Magic? || Years 5-7

The Department of Mysteries: Year 5

Harry walked over to another door, pressing his hand and pushing.

The door didn't move.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked, looking over his shoulder.

"It's... locked..." Harry replied, throwing himself against the door.

The door didn't move.

"This is it, then, isn't it?" Ron exclaimed, joining Harry in his attempt to barrel the door down. "Bound to be!"

"Get out of the way!" Hermione snapped sharply, pointing her wand at the door and narrowing her eyes. "Alohomora!"

The door didn't move.

"Sirius knife!" Harry pulled it out from his robes, sliding the blade between the crack of the door and wall. Amisty watched curiously as he ran it all the way down and then flung himself against the door again.

The door didn't move.

And, quite shockingly, the blade had belted into a disfigured silver blob off the end of the hilt. Amisty took a step back.

"Right, we're leaving that room," Hermione declared with a strong sense of finality.

"But what if that's the one?" Ron whined faintly, staring at the closed door longingly.

"It can't be, Harry could get through all the doors in his dream," Hermione replied shortly, marking the door with her fiery X.

"You know what could be in there?" Luna beamed as the wall began to spin once more.

"Something blibbering, no doubt," Hermione muttered under her breath.

Neville laughed nervously.

The wall slid to a halt, and Harry, his pace increasing with desperation, pushed open the door.

"This is it!" He breathed as if he couldn't believe his eyes.

The room was gleaming with a soft, silver glow. Clocks covered the room from floor to ceiling in between the rows of bookcases and desks, filling the room with an echoing, continuous tick. A massive bell jar stood at the far wall, the light source of the room.

"This way!" Harry called out, leading the way at a ferocious pace down the narrow pathway between the numerous desks directly toward the bell jar. As they got closer, it looked like the jar was full of sparkling wind.

"Oh look!" Ginny exclaimed in wonder, pointing at the center of the jar. A beautiful, intricate egg floated at the bottom. As it floated upwards, the egg began to crack and then shatter entirely, morphing into a glittering, colorful hummingbird, before falling back down and reversing the cycle.

"Keep going!" Harry insisted, pressing forward.

"You dawdled enough by that old arch!" Ginny spat back, following with an annoyed expression as they pushed through the next door.

"This is it," Harry repeated, his voice shaking slightly with adrenaline. "It's through here -- "

Amisty pulled out her wand, anxiety spiking in her chest now that the realism of the situation had set in. Harry looked back at them, his eyes shadowed and expression firm, before turning back and pushing the door open.

The next room looked like the ceiling never ended, filled with shelves that reached upwards and crammed with dusty, glass orbs that gleamed faintly, reflecting the dull, blue flames of the candles set at wide intervals. When Amisty breathed, a cloud of steam wafted into the cold air.

Their footsteps sounded thunderous in the silence.

"You said it was row ninety-seven," Hermione whispered to Harry, who was peering around at the various shelves.