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HP Chapter 137: Beyond the Veil (Part 1)
🕑 Added 2025-10-17 15:41:58 +0000 UTCSuddenly, dark figures emerged all around them, blocking every escape route on either side. Eyes glinted from within the shadows of their hoods, and twelve wands, their tips glowing ominously, were pointed straight at their hearts. Ginny gasped and froze.
"Hand it over, Potter," drawled Lucius Malfoy, his voice slow and deliberate, palm outstretched.
Harry’s heart sank. They were surrounded, and outnumbered two to one.
"Give it to me," Malfoy repeated.
"Where’s Sirius?" Harry demanded.
A few Death Eaters chuckled. To his left, a shrill female voice rang out triumphantly from among the dark-cloaked figures.
"The Dark Lord always knows best!"
"Always," Malfoy murmured in agreement. "Now hand me the prophecy, Potter."
"I want to know where Sirius is!"
"I want to know where Sirius is!" the woman mimicked in a mocking, sing-song tone.
She and the other Death Eaters advanced a few steps closer, now only feet away. The light from their wands was dazzling.
"You took him," Harry said, ignoring the rising panic and the dread that had lingered ever since they'd first entered Row Ninety-Seven. "He's here. I know he is."
"Aww, poor baby had a bad dream and thought it was real," the woman cooed in a sickly-sweet baby voice. Harry could feel Ron shifting beside him.
"Don’t do anything," Harry muttered under his breath. "Not yet, "
The mocking woman burst into harsh, rasping laughter.
"Hear that? He’s giving orders to the other kids! Like he thinks he’s going to fight us!"
"Oh, you don’t know Potter like I do, Bellatrix," Malfoy said softly. "He has a great weakness for heroics. The Dark Lord knows this well. Now hand over the prophecy, Potter."
"I know Sirius is here somewhere," Harry insisted, though his chest tightened with panic, making it hard to breathe. "I know you’ve got him!"
More Death Eaters burst into laughter. The woman laughed loudest.
"It’s time you learned the difference between dreams and reality, Potter," Malfoy said coldly. "Now give me the prophecy, or we’ll use force."
"Then go ahead!" Harry snapped, raising his wand to his chest. Beside him, Ron, Hermione, Neville, Ginny, and Luna raised theirs too.
Harry’s stomach clenched. If Sirius really wasn’t here, he had just led his friends into danger, for nothing.
But the Death Eaters didn’t attack.
"Hand over the prophecy. No need for anyone to get hurt," Malfoy said icily.
Now it was Harry’s turn to laugh.
"Oh, right! Sure!" he said. "I give you this prophecy, and then what? You just let us walk out of here nice and easy?"
Before he’d even finished speaking, the female Death Eater shrieked, "Accio proph!--"
But Harry was ready. He bellowed, "Protego!" before she could finish the spell. The glass orb slipped slightly from his fingers, but he caught it just in time.
"Ooh, he’s clever, our little Potter," the woman hissed, her eyes blazing within the hood. "Fine then, "
"I told you not to do that!" Lucius Malfoy snarled at her. "If you break it! "
Harry’s mind raced. The Death Eaters wanted this filthy glass orb. He didn’t care about it. All he wanted was to get everyone out of there alive, to make sure his friends didn’t suffer for his mistake.
The woman stepped forward, separating from the others and pulling back her hood. Azkaban had left Bellatrix Lestrange hollow-cheeked and gaunt, but her face burned with a kind of wild, fanatic excitement.
"Need more persuasion, do you?" she panted. "Fine. Grab the little girl!" she ordered the others. "Let’s show him how we treat brats. I’ll do the honors."
Harry saw the others begin to close in on Ginny. He stepped in front of her, blocking her path and raising the prophecy orb protectively to his chest.
"You try to hurt any of us," he said to Bellatrix, "and I’ll smash this thing. I bet your master won’t be too happy if you come back without it."
She didn’t move, just stared at him, eyes locked, licking her thin lips.
"So," Harry said, "what’s so special about this prophecy anyway?"
He didn’t know what else to do except keep talking. Neville was trembling beside him, their arms touching. Someone behind him was breathing quickly against his neck. He hoped the others were also thinking of a way out, because his own mind was blank.
"What kind of prophecy?" Bellatrix echoed, her twisted smile fading. "You’re joking, Harry Potter."
"No, I’m not," Harry said, eyes scanning the Death Eaters for any weakness or gap they could exploit. "Why does Voldemort want it so badly?"
A few of the Death Eaters hissed.
"You dare speak his name?" Bellatrix growled.
"Of course," Harry replied, gripping the orb tighter in case someone tried to summon it again. "Yeah, I say it. Vol—"
"Silence!" she shrieked. "How dare you say his name with your filthy, half-blood tongue, "
"Did you know he’s a half-blood too?" Harry interrupted calmly. Hermione whispered something frantically behind him. "Yeah, his mum was a witch, but his dad was a Muggle. What, did he tell you he was pure-blood?"
"Stupe—"
"No!"
A jet of red light shot from Bellatrix’s wand, but Malfoy deflected it. It missed Harry by a foot, striking a shelf nearby. Several glass orbs shattered.
Two ghostly, pearl-white figures rose from the shards, swirling in smoky patterns. Their voices echoed, overlapping with the shouts of Malfoy and Bellatrix, though Harry could only catch fragments.
"…The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches…"
"Don’t attack, we need the prophecy intact!"
"He dares, he dares, " Bellatrix screamed incoherently. "Standing there, filthy little, "
"Wait until we have the prophecy!" Malfoy barked.
"…Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies...…"
The ghostly figures faded into mist and vanished, leaving only shards of glass. But they gave Harry an idea.
The question was how to communicate it.
"You want me to give you this orb," Harry said, still stalling for time, "but you haven’t even told me what makes it so important." He subtly shifted his foot sideways, trying to touch one of the others.
"Don’t play games with us, Potter," Malfoy warned.
"I’m not," Harry replied, inching his foot further until he felt someone’s toes, Hermione’s, judging by the gasp behind him. He stepped down hard.
"What is it?" Hermione whispered almost inaudibly.
“Dumbledore never told you the reason for that scar?” Malfoy sneered. “The truth lies right here, in the Department of Mysteries.”
"My, what?" Harry asked, momentarily thrown off. "My scar?"
"What is it?" Hermione whispered again, her voice more urgent.
"This is rich," Malfoy said, grinning under his hood. Some Death Eaters laughed again. In the cover of their laughter, Harry moved his lips and barely whispered: “Smash the shelves, ”
“Dumbledore never told you?” Malfoy repeated. “That explains why you took so long to get here. The Dark Lord was surprised, he thought your curiosity would drive you to seek out the truth…”
“Wait for my signal, ”
“…thought you'd come running the moment he showed you where it was hidden in your dreams. Thought you’d crave the full prophecy, ”
“Really?” Harry said, trying to sense Hermione passing the message along. He had to keep the Death Eaters distracted. “So he wanted me to get it for him? Why?”
"Because only the subject of a prophecy can retrieve it, Potter. That's something the Dark Lord learned the hard way."
"So he couldn't take it himself," Harry said slowly, "and needed me to do it for him? What’s it about? Why does he care?"
"It’s about the two of you, Potter. You and him. Haven’t you ever wondered why he tried to kill you when you were just a baby?"
Through the slits of Malfoy’s hood, Harry stared into his pale gray eyes. Was this prophecy the reason his parents had died? The reason he had a lightning bolt scar? Were all the answers held in this single, dust-covered glass orb, no bigger than a Snitch?
"Someone made a prophecy about me and Voldemort?" Harry said quietly, eyes locked on Malfoy, his grip on the orb tightening. "And now he’s using me to get it because he can’t? Why not just come himself?"
"Come himself?" Bellatrix shrieked with laughter. "When the Ministry still denies his return? You think he’d walk right into their trap while they’re still hunting for my dear cousin? Exposing himself to the Aurors?"
"So instead, he sends you to do his dirty work," Harry said. "Just like he sent Sturgis to steal the prophecy... and Bode?"
"Exactly, Potter," Malfoy said smoothly. "But the Dark Lord knew you weren’t foolish enough to, "
"Now!" Harry shouted.
Five voices rang out behind him: “Reducto!”
Five jets of light flew in five directions. The shelves exploded, toppling under the impact. Hundreds of prophecy orbs shattered. Pale, ghostly figures spiraled into the air, whispering in a chaotic chorus as glass and splinters rained down.
“Run!” Harry shouted.
He grabbed Hermione’s robes and dragged her forward, shielding his head with his free arm. Shards of glass and chunks of shelves crashed down around them.
A Death Eater lunged through the dust; Harry slammed his elbow into the masked face. Screams, crashing wood, and disembodied voices filled the air.
Harry saw a clear path ahead. Ron, Ginny, and Luna dashed past him, arms over their heads. Something heavy struck the side of his face, but he kept running. A hand grabbed his shoulder,
“Stupefy!” Hermione yelled.
The grip released instantly.
They reached the end of Row Ninety-Seven. Harry turned right, sprinting at full speed. Behind him, he heard footsteps and Hermione shouting at Neville to keep up.
A door stood ajar ahead, the one they’d entered through. Harry could see the glow of the time room’s glass dome. He leapt through, turned back, and slammed the door shut behind them. The prophecy orb was still clutched tightly in his hand.
“Colloportus!” Hermione panted, slamming it shut with a magical squelch.
“Where are they?” Harry gasped.
He’d thought Ron, Luna, and Ginny were ahead, waiting, but the room was empty.
“They must have taken a wrong turn!” Hermione said in a frightened whisper.
“Listen,” Neville whispered.
Footsteps and shouting echoed beyond the sealed door. Harry pressed his ear to it and heard Lucius Malfoy bellowing:
“Forget Nott, I said leave him! His injury means nothing compared to losing the prophecy. Jugson, back here, everyone, pair off and search! Do not harm Potter until we have the orb. The rest, kill if needed! Bellatrix, Rodolphus, left corridor! Crabbe, Rabastan, right! Jugson, Dolohov, straight ahead! Macnair and Avery, search here! Rookwood, take that side! Mulciber, with me!”
“What do we do?” Hermione asked Harry, shaking.
“We can’t stay here waiting to be caught,” he said. “First, away from the door.”
They crept past the softly glowing dome where miniature birds hatched from tiny eggs and circled the clock, then ran for the far end of the room, toward the door to the circular hallway.
Just as they neared it, something huge and heavy slammed against the door they’d sealed.
“Stand back!” a rough voice shouted. “Alohomora!”
The door burst open. Harry, Hermione, and Neville dove beneath a nearby desk. Two Death Eaters stormed in, black robes brushing the floor.
“They must’ve run straight to the Hall,” one muttered.
“Check under the desks,” said the other.
Harry saw knees bend. He pointed his wand from under the desk and shouted, “Stupefy!”
Red light hit the nearest Death Eater, who toppled backward into a grandfather clock, knocking it over. The second one leapt aside, dodging the spell, and aimed his wand at Hermione as she crawled out for a better shot.
“Avada—”
Harry lunged forward, tackling the man by the knees and sending him sprawling. Neville, in a panic, flipped the desk and shouted, “Expelliarmus!”
