ruins ; harry potter [1]

sixteen ; the department of mysteries

The ride to the Department of Mysteries was agonizingly cold. Freezing wind whipped Diana's hair into her face, drying out her eyes and blowing hair into her mouth. She gripped the Thestral's neck tightly, pulling herself closer as if trying to absorb heat emanating from the creature. She was behind the rest, keeping watch and making sure no one fell. Periodically, she'd take a look behind her just in case—she knew she could never be too careful. Especially for what she's about to be getting herself into.

A pit of anxiety gnawed at her stomach. She knew, whether Voldemort had taken Sirius or not, something bad was awaiting them at the Ministry, and in the back of her mind, she wondered if she was even prepared.

She knew someone would be waiting for them. Whether Sirius was even there or not, she knew this was a ploy to lure them to the Department of Mysteries, and it worked. What would be waiting for then in the darkened halls? Death Eaters? Her father?

Eventually, all of the Thestrals started to dive headfirst to the ground—she clung tightly and closed her eyes and for what felt like years, she was free-falling on top of the Thestral until they landed roughly, causing her to get bucked off and land hard on the pavement.

She got up slowly, flexing her muscles and stretching her back. She watched as the others stood up, too, rubbing their arms through the cold and brushing their clothes off.

"Never again..." said Ron weakly, leaning on a wall. "Never again...that was the worst..."

Luna asked where they were going next, and Harry led them to a red phone booth down the road. They left the Thestrals to forage for scraps in the nearby dumpsters and they all squashed themselves inside. It was an incredibly tight fit, and Diana wondered how they all even managed to fit inside.

"Whoever's nearest to the receiver, dial six two four four two!" Harry said, and Ron twisted his arm oddly to be able to punch in the numbers.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger," Diana quickly listed, "Luna Lovegood, Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, and Diana. We're here to save someone, unless you idiots can do it first!" She felt odd listing only her first name, but she brushed it off. After all, it was a secret she was much too used to hiding.

Badges for each of them appeared in the metal chute where coins usually were discharged, and they passed them out.

"Badges, are you bloody kidding me?" Diana muttered, fastening her badge onto her shirt more ironically than any other reason.

"Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

"Fine!" Harry said loudly. "Now can we move?"

The floor of the telephone box shuddered and they slowly moved downwards into the ground. The Thestrals slid out of sight and they plunged below the surface in darkness. Finally, as they entered the Ministry, light emerged from the bottom and grew until they could finally see the Atrium. Diana had been here many times, but this was the first she had ever seen it so empty. They exited the telephone box and they toppled out. Their footsteps echoed annoyingly through the silent lobby, causing Diana to shush them quietly. The echo made her nervous; she was worried they would alert others to their presence if they were too loud.

"Come on," Harry said quietly and lead them through the deserted Atrium to the elevators, where they all clambered inside. Harry pressed a button and the golden grilles clamped shut before they lurched downward, deeper and deeper until they slowed to a stop at floor number nine. The lift was noisy, and Diana clenched her wand in her left hand tighter.