Harry Potter and the Secret Treasures

There was no communication, and the battle started immediately, with spells flying, but it ended immediately.

In this small space, the Death Eaters who were ambushed had no advantage at all and could not possibly be a match for the Order of the Phoenix.

Harry saw Malfoy evade another spell, and Bellatrix hid behind a tall Death Eater, allowing four spells to hit the human shield in front of her, and the Death Eater was blasted away, collapsing backward toward the bell jar behind him.

Harry expected to hear a clunk, for the man to hit solid glass and slide off the jar onto the floor, but instead, his head sank through the surface of the bell jar as though it was nothing but a soap bubble and he came to rest, sprawled on his back on the table, with his head lying inside the jar full of glittering wind.

Then, that head began to change.

For a moment, everyone stared, openmouthed, appalled, at what was happening to the man’s head.n/ô/vel/b//in dot c//om

It was shrinking very fast, growing balder and balder, the black hair and stubble retracting into his skull, his cheeks smooth, his skull round and covered with a peachlike fuzz…

A baby’s head now sat grotesquely on top of the thick, muscled neck of the Death Eater as he struggled to get up again.

But even as they watched, their mouths open, the head began to swell to its previous proportions again, thick black hair was sprouting from the pate and chin…

Over and over again, time worked its way upon his head and he made sounds of pain.

Sirius waved his wand, and a burst of red light stunned him, ending his pain, but the magic continued.

“Drop your wands, or I’ll give you a taste of this,” Sirius shouted to the remaining five Death Eaters.

Bellatrix did not put down her wand. She slowly walked backwards into the darkness, looking for a suitable spot.

Above her head were rows of hourglasses.

“How did you know about our operation tonight?” Malfoy did not move but also did not lower his wand.

“Tonight’s operation? I don’t know anything about that. This was always the plan to lure you out of your lair. You’ve failed!” Sirius sneered. “Now, drop your wands, and I’ll make it easier for you.”

“We haven’t failed!” Bellatrix said fanatically.

“My dear cousin, you need to learn to recognize reality,” Sirius replied sarcastically.

“Stupid, the Dark Lord’s more powerful than you imagine, you cannot possibly…”

“Really?” said Sirius. “Then, where is the mighty Voldemort? He doesn’t even dare to come here at all!”

“Do you really think so, Black?” said a cold voice.

Harry raised his head suddenly, and he saw the tall, thin man wearing a black mask, with a snake-like, pale, and gaunt face. The slitted, scarlet eyes were staring at them. Voldemort was standing there at the doorway, his wand pointed at them.

“Master, you’ve come, Master!” said Bellatrix ecstatically, quickly crawling to his feet.

Sirius’s wand wavered but he did not cast a spell. He pulled Harry quickly back, retreating into the crowd.

The others did not cast spells either; they all stared at Voldemort.

Voldemort’s sudden appearance invigorated the remaining Death Eaters, while all members of the Order of the Phoenix were wary.

They were no match for Voldemort. As Harry and Sirius retreated into the crowd, Harry saw Lupin, Moody, Tonks, and Kingsley. Once through the door, he could no longer see Voldemort but could hear Bellatrix’s cries and Voldemort’s cold, piercing voice.

“Quiet, Bella!” said Voldemort terrifyingly. “I will deal with you all later! Do you think I came to the Ministry just to listen to your sniveling apologies? We must not fail again. I need to obtain that crucial prophecy. Before making the final decision, I must know the prophecy, even if I have to retrieve it myself…”

Harry couldn’t hear the rest of the words, and he was led by Sirius into another room.

The room was high as a cathedral and full of towering shelves covered in small, dusty glass orbs.

They glimmered dully in the light issuing from more candle brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Like those in the black, circular room, their flames were burning blue. The room was very cold.

“Harry, go find the prophecy orb. It’s in row ninety-seven, then get out of here with it,” said Sirius quickly. “We can’t let him get that prophecy. We have to buy time. Dumbledore will be here soon.”

“Sirius, what’s going on?” Harry asked.

“I’ll explain later. They can’t hold off Voldemort for long. There’s another door here; once you get the prophecy sphere, run out through that door,” said Sirius. “Row eighty-five … Row ninety-six … here’s row ninety-seven. Look for your name, Harry, hurry.”

They went on down the long alleys of shelves, the farther ends of which were in near total darkness.

Harry heard the sound of fighting coming from the door. He focused on the tiny, yellowing labels stuck beneath each glass orb on the shelf. Some of them had a weird, liquid glow; others were as dull and dark within as blown lightbulbs.

Then, on the dusty shelf, he saw his name.

It was a small glass sphere that glowed with a dull inner light, though it was very dusty and appeared not to have been touched for many years. Through this glimmer, he could see the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball. In spidery writing was written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that:

S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.

Dark Lord

and (?) Harry Potter

“That’s it, Harry,” said Sirius. “It’s about your prophecy sphere, pick it up.”

Harry had many questions and looked at Sirius, who still had the appearance of the Death Eater.

He hesitated, then reached out and took hold of the dusty little ball. He had expected it to feel cold, but it did not. On the contrary, it felt as though it had been lying in the sun for hours, as though the glow of light within was warming it.

“Sirius, this…”

Before Harry could finish his words, a flash of ghastly green light streaked before his eyes.

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