Muggle | 𝐹𝑟𝑒𝑑 𝑊𝑒𝑎𝑠𝑙𝑒𝑦

Chapter 81

"Wh-what?" Harry stuttered as all of them stared down at me.

"He's not going to be there, Harry. Sirius is safe!" I said again. "This is just a dream —"

"You don't understand, Lexi!" he said, growing irritated. "It was just like Mr. Weasley!"

I shook my head, at the verge of tears. "Harry, please listen to me. Voldemort is only making you see this!"

"But what if he isn't!?" he retorted. "Look, you've made mistakes before; on the night Mr. Weasley was attacked, you said Mrs. Weasley was going to send us a letter, but she didn't. You said that Mr. Weasley was going to stay at St. Mungo's until after Christmas, but he returned the next day. What if you're mistaken about this one too!?"

"But I'm not! Harry —"

"I can't risk it, Lexi! He's the only family I have left!" he shouted, and then sighed, saying more calmly yet ever so sternly, "You can't stop me from going."

     "Fine," I huffed. "But you can't stop me from coming either!"

     "But — Lexi," Hermione started nervously. "You can't do any magi —"

     "Yeah, but I know a hell lot more than you all."

     Harry, Ron, and Hermione shared a look as if to say I had a point. Knowing that there was no quit in me, they nodded, following Harry towards the Thestrals, who helped them get on them.

     "Aren't — aren't we going to wait for Neville?" I asked hesitantly, being the only one left on the ground along with Harry, who was trying to help me up on the Thestral.

     They all turned to look at me with surprise once again. "Neville?" Ginny raised a brow. "Why? Was he supposed to be here with us?"

     "Look, we don't have time," said Harry sternly. "We need to get to Sirius. Right now."

     He didn't give me time to protest as our Thestrals started flying and shot up to the sky, taking us to London.

All the way there, I kept thinking of why Neville hadn't turned up that at last, it hit me.

It was the Butterfly Effect.

Just like Hermione had said, by warning Dumbledore about Mr. Weasley, he managed to save him earlier than what was meant to. Therefore, Mr. Weasley didn't stay at St. Mungo's until Christmas as he was originally supposed to.

In the books, now I remembered vividly, Harry, Ron, and Hermione were supposed to see Neville there, who was there to visit his parents.

Perhaps that moment was supposed to give Neville the push and to bring him to the realization that he had to fight this war, to avenge his parents, who were tortured into insanity by Death Eaters.

Although even now that I had realized my mistake in meddling, I could only hope that the consequences to that wouldn't be too bad.

By the time twilight had crept through the sky, we had reached London and all the while I tried to find the reason as to why I was going with them, being helpless when it came to magic.

But at last, we reached the Ministry and walked through the visitor's entrance and followed Harry toward the Department of Mysteries.

He reached out for the door but I grabbed onto his shoulder, stopping him. "There's still time to go back," I whispered.

But as if he hadn't even heard me, he shrugged me up, opened the door, and so we all walked inside after him, coming upon a dim room with many corridors and countless doors.

"This way," said Harry, running through a corridor, knowing it would lead him to where he had been dreaming about for months.

The next room we entered was filled up with shelves after shelves, containing lit globes which I knew to be prophecies.

"Aren't you going to take your wand out?" asked Luna as she walked alongside me, who had her wand raised just like everybody else. "It might come in handy."

I decided to remain silent and not answer her. This was not the time to explain to her how I had no magic.

"He's right down at the end," said Harry. "You can't see properly from here..."

And he led us forward between the towering rows of glass balls, some of which glowed softly as we passed them.

"He should be near here," whispered Harry. "Anywhere here... really close..."

"Harry..." I whispered softly, my lips trembling.

"What?" he snarled.

"Sirius isn't here."

Nobody spoke. Harry ran up the space at the end of the rows, staring down them. Empty aisle after empty aisle flickered past.

"Look, we still have time to leave," I said, trying to get his attention. But he was still searching.

"Harry?" Ron called.

"What?"

"Have you seen this?" said Ron.

"What?" said Harry, but eagerly this time.

"It's — it's got your name on," said Ron.

I looked around anxiously, for any sign of the many Death Eaters that I knew surrounded us.

Harry moved a little closer, looking at the glass orb that he was talking about.

"What is it?" Ron asked, sounding unnerved. "What's your name doing down here?"

I started to turn around to check behind me, but my eyes widened as I saw that Harry had already reached out for it.

"HARRY, NO!" I screamed, but it was too late.

He had already picked it up.

And then, from right behind us, a cold voice said, "Very good, Potter. Now turn around, nice and slowly, and give that to me."