Godfather [harry potter fanfiction]

3 | Close Rescue

A reminder: for the following chapters, forget about all what really happened in canon. So that you don't get confused, just imagine it as a whole new battle (created by me).

**Meanwhile in the Department of Mysteries***

Danger was rotating around the helpless teenagers from every side, with the sounds and urges of at least a dozen of Death-eaters searching for them. They were all hidden in one room out of the hundreds available, away from reach and thankfully together.

Minutes ago, they had miraculously escaped from being in the clutches of those who never knew any mercy, as they breathlessly ran in a long dark corridor up until they found themselves right in front of a grande door. Harry's shaky hand reached to the, almost freezing, doorknob before frustratedly realizing it was locked. He was saved by Hermione's fearfully determined voice, "Oh move over, Alohomora," enchanting the door to open on its own accord.

Studying the surrounding he found himself in, Harry took everything in: the numerous, dusty shelves -towering around the corners of the room- had, from top to bottom, glowing bright blue glass balls, which were similar to the one clutched in his own fist, with his own and Voldemort's name carved on its surface. But what he found more intriguing was a ragged veil hanging from an ancient archway.

Absentmindedly handing Ron the warm circular prophecy, Harry tiptoed closer to the said veil that sort of inhaled and exhaled nothing but smoke. What caught him off guard were the faintly soft, almost inaudible, whispers erupting from what he presumed to be people hiding beyond the veil's curtain.

Luna was the only one, however, to spin her head as the urging sound of those whispers became more desperate in calling him away.

Luna stood in a dreamy trance, temporarily forgetting all about the surrounding danger, as she was caught under the veil's influence with those whispers echoing in her ears.

Something inside Harry, a nagging voice, made him fear this veil more than anything. He couldn't put his hands on the underlying reason behind such a fearful loathing reaction to, what seemed to be, a harmless object.

Desperately wanting to get away from it as much as possible, Harry, without another glance, silently seized a handful of Luna's robes and slowly dragged her backward, away from the veil.

The six teenagers were safe, at least for now, but they feared their camouflage wouldn't last for long. The frantic footfalls and the ragged breathing of the deatheaters, from behind the closed door shielding them, sent shivers down their spines.

They all wore identical frightened faces, terrified that even a single shaky breath would give them away at some point- at any point. Without an agreement, they kept themselves completely silent, not even daring to whisper.

A few of the many thoughts that were racing in Harry's mind at the moment were tormenting... One, it was a trap and he fell for it. Two, they were hopelessly caged, with no way out. Three, they were helplessly outnumbered and overpowered.