Griffin Blakes is your average teenage witch attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. She is a lot of things... but sneaky is not one of them. So what is she going to tell her three best friends when she starts to fall for the enemy? An...
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{Griffin}
"WHAT IN the bloody hell... ?" Ron gaped at Luna, Harry, and Neville while they saddled onto their thestrals' backs. The only problem was it looked like they were floating in midair. "How are we expected to fly on creatures that we can't even see?" I faintly asked. Apparently, that specific species was only visible to those who had witnessed a death.
"Oh, it's very easy," Luna waved her hand, sliding off the horse and walking over to help us. I nervously followed her instructions, wounding my fingers around the invisible steed's mane and holding on tight. Harry spoke the destination out loud and suddenly, all seven of us were lifted into the sky.
"Oh my god-!" Oxygen immediately left my lungs and I screwed my eyes shut, too frightened to look down.
Wind blew through my lightly curled hair and I felt my legs press against -what I assumed to be- the horse's sides. A minute later I risked a peek and found that we were soaring over Hogsmeade. Then rolling mountains, forests, more towns.
I heard Ron scream, "This is bloody mental!"
Dusk fell soon enough. I avoided looking around for long periods of time because the deadly height, mixed with no visible support, scared the living shite out of me.
At last, we arrived at the Ministry of Magic. The main lobby was empty as we ran across its floors, passing mantelpieces that lacked fire and stations that were likewise empty. The gang piled inside the nearest lift and brought it to the Department of Mysteries.
The gate -clanked- open and I froze.
Harry looked at me. "Do you recognize-?"
"Yeah," I breathed.
We faced a stretching corridor. It was dimly lit but still reflected against the polished walls and black tiled floor. I felt a cold, empty breeze and knew I had stood there before. Yes, this was the place that had plagued my dreams for so many nights, it was practically ingrained into my subconscious. And there, located at its very end, was an innocent door. It had a golden doorknob.
"This is it," Harry said. He swung it open and dark shadows swallowed us whole.
Everything was still. It was so, so quiet that I was almost afraid breathing would be too loud. "Lumos," a few of us whispered and light seeped out of our wands' fine tips.
Towering shelves were all any of us could discern for as far as the eye could see. They were littered with rows of crystal balls, packed together in no distinguishable pattern. "We're looking for ninety-seven," Harry stated, pointing to the numbers labeling each row.
"Harry," Hermione called out. He had walked far ahead of us in search of that number, but now stood motionlessly.
"Sirius should be here," he said with a strained voice. "He should... be here."
