∆

KEEPING UMBRIDGE AND HER STUPID SQUAD AWAY proved to be one huge fail and a humiliating damp on what we thought was a clever plan. It all unraveled faster than I could blink.

One moment, Rose was trembling at my side, her nails digging crescents into my palm as I tried to calm her down; the next, a jinx seared the air past me, catching me square in the chest.

The floor rushed up, cold stone against my cheek. I blacked out for a heartbeat - two, maybe three - before awareness slammed back, and with it came the weight.

Hands like iron clamped down on my wrists, pinning them to the ground above my head. I blinked hard, vision swimming, only to see none other than Draco Malfoy looming over me.

His pale hair fell forward, his lips curved in that infuriating smirk he always wore when he thought he'd won.

"Get off me!" I hissed, thrashing. His grip only tightened, though it wasn't enough to really hurt me. Oddly, it felt like he was keeping himself from doing so.

All around me was chaos. Hermione was caught in Pansy Parkinson's clawlike hold, Ron was disarmed and struggling against two hulking shadows that had to be Crabbe and Goyle, and poor Rose—Rose was locked down by Zabini like some animal pressed into a corner.

Harry was thrown to the floor with such force I swore I heard his head crack against the stone. His glasses slid askew, his green eyes wide and frantic as he looked around, only to see all of us bound or restrained, our wands gone.

Stolen. Tucked neatly into the Inquisitorial Squad's robes like trophies.

How did we let this happen?

My head pounded. I couldn't even remember exactly how I ended up in Malfoy's grip, only fragments: a flash of green, Rose's panicked voice in my ear, the world tilting sideways. Then nothing. Then this.

And Malfoy had the nerve to look smug about it.

Calling me the M-word last year had been one line too far. Now he was holding me down like a prize catch for that toad in pink? Malfoy was setting whole new records in loathsome.

The door banged open, and there she was. Umbridge. Short, squat, pink-clad, and beaming like Christmas had come early. She clapped her pudgy hands together as if this were a delightful little tea party instead of an ambush.

"Who were you trying to contact?" she asked Harry in her simpering, high-pitched voice, the words coated in sugar and venom.

Harry glared at her, his chest heaving.

I smirked before he could answer, my voice ringing out. "He'd never tell you a thing."

Umbridge's beady eyes snapped to me, narrowing. The sugary tone slipped, replaced by a sharp bark: "Mr. Malfoy, it would do you well to shut Miss Evans's lousy mouth."

I bared my teeth in a grin. "Make me."

The look she gave me could have curdled milk. She sniffed, straightening her cardigan, before turning to her squad. "Well? Fetch Professor Snape for me, quickly."

Harry's face tightened with panic. "No -"

"Very well, Potter." Umbridge crouched slightly, her eyes glittering like a predator's. "I have been patient enough with you."

The door creaked again. Snape swept in, all black robes and shadows, his face a mask of bored disdain. He didn't even glance at us - just Umbridge. "You wished to see me?"

"I have just caught Potter trying to communicate with someone in my fire," she said primly, her voice oozing false authority. "I require Veritaserum."

Snape's expression didn't flicker. His voice was flat. "It appears I cannot help you. You used the last of my store interrogating Miss Chang."

Harry lurched forward, voice hoarse but desperate. "He's got Padfoot! He's got Padfoot at the place where it's hidden!"

That was awfully smart, I almost cheered Harry on for such a brilliant wordplay. And here people thought he was stupid? He was very smart when it really counted, he said that knowing Snape would understand - 

"Padfoot?" Umbridge repeated suspiciously, her eyes darting between Harry and Snape. "What does he mean, Severus?"

Snape's voice was smooth, unbothered. "I've no idea."

And then, without another word, he turned and left.

Umbridge rounded back on Harry, her voice sickly sweet again, her wand gleaming in her hand. I ignored her, focusing instead on Malfoy's grip around my wrists. It was like being caught in a vice. I twisted, pulling, trying to wrench free, but he only leaned in closer.

"Quit struggling, Lily," he muttered, his breath hot against my ear.

I scoffed. "The more you talk, the harder I'll hex you once I'm free."

His grip tightened. "The more you struggle, the harder it'll be for you."

"You don't get to call me by my first name, Malfoy. You don't get to hold me here. You don't get anything. Let me and my friends go."

"I can't." His voice was quiet. Almost regretful. Almost.

But then I saw the look in his eyes - satisfaction - and the ember of pity I might've had snuffed out. He was still Draco Malfoy: a bully, a coward, and a willing puppet for the likes of Umbridge.

I turned my head away from him - just in time to see Umbridge raise her wand.

"Crucio!"

The spell slammed into Harry. He convulsed violently, his body arching, his scream tearing the air like fabric ripped in two.

"No!" My throat ripped with the word. I thrashed wildly in Malfoy's grip, my shoulders screaming, my wrists burning, but I didn't care. "STOP! Please - stop! Let him go!"

Harry's cries echoed in my skull. My stomach twisted, bile rising in my throat. Malfoy's grip was iron. I fought harder, my chest heaving with panic, until I thought my arms might snap.

And then finally, the screams stopped.

Umbridge lowered her wand, her lips curling in self-satisfaction. Harry sagged to the ground, sweat-soaked and trembling, his face white as parchment.

"Perhaps I went with this the wrong way, hurting you is too easy and might mess up your memories you won't be able to answer my questions!" Umbridge then turned to me with a sinister grin and pointed her wand. "Crucio!"

The curse hit me square in the chest.

It wasn't like being burned, or stabbed, or frozen - it was everything at once. A storm of knives, fire, and lightning racing through my veins, twisting every muscle into knots, tearing me apart piece by piece and then stitching me back together only to rip me again.

My own scream tore out of me before I could stop it, high and raw, scraping my throat until I thought it might bleed.

It felt endless.

No amount of imagination, no whispered story about the Unforgivable Curses, could ever have prepared me for the reality. My vision burst into stars. My lungs refused to work properly.

My back arched violently against Malfoy's hold before I collapsed flat again, every nerve in my body shrieking.

I dimly heard voices - Hermione's frantic scream of my name, Harry shouting, furious and broken - but their words melted into the white noise of my own agony.

And then, just as suddenly as it began, the spell lifted.

But it didn't stop. The pain lingered, coiling inside my skin, gnawing at my bones. My whole body trembled violently, each breath shallow, my stomach heaving as if I might vomit right there on the stone floor.

I couldn't stop shaking. Couldn't move. Couldn't think beyond the memory of that pain.

Umbridge's voice floated somewhere above me, distant and muffled, as though underwater. She was barking orders, dragging Harry and Hermione out with her, triumphant. Rose's gasp cut sharper, clearer: "Lily!"

I forced my eyes open, my head rolling weakly to the side. Rose was still trapped under Zabini's bulk, her face blotchy with fear, her eyes wide and glassy.

She thrashed against him, her voice hoarse from screaming my name. That desperate, frantic sound pushed through the fog in my mind like a spark catching tinder.

Move.

I flexed my fingers. It felt like trying to lift weights a hundred times my size, but I managed a twitch. Then another. Slowly, painfully, my senses trickled back.

With a guttural breath, I pushed myself upright, every muscle protesting. My heart hammered as I sucked in one sharp, steadying inhale. My voice cracked but carried as I shouted, "Accio wand!"

The familiar weight of my wand smacked into my palm, and something inside me steadied.

I didn't waste a second. A jet of red light shot from my wand and sent the first Slytherin who dared aim at me flying across the room. They happened to be pinning Ginny down, and she rolled free with the grace of a cat, snatching her own wand back before firing a jinx that caught Pansy in the chest.

Pansy screeched, tried to counter, but Ginny was faster. The spell hit; Pansy crumpled, clutching at her face.

"Nice one!" Ginny barked, already spinning to deflect another curse.

I ducked instinctively as Goyle's wand flared, his hex sizzling overhead. My hair crackled from how close it came. Fury surged through me, blotting out the last lingering edge of pain. I fired back, a binding jinx that wrapped Zabini from throat to ankle, pinning him like a hog-tied beast. Rose stumbled free, coughing, but already her wand was in hand.

"Try me, you bastard!" she spat, whipping her wand with surprising ferocity. Her curse caught Goyle in the side, sending him sprawling. He hit the floor with a thud that shook the desks. His limbs twitched once - then stilled.

The room descended into absolute chaos. Spells zipped and cracked like lightning. The smell of scorched wood and burnt fabric filled the air. My ears rang from the shouts, the screams, the impact of magic slamming into walls.

But then, slowly, the noise died down.

One by one, our captors fell. The Slytherins were sprawled across the floor, unconscious, bound, or groaning in pain, their wands scattered like broken toys.

All except one.

Draco Malfoy.

He was still standing, just barely, though his face was pale, his eyes darting nervously between me, Rose, and Ginny. Neville and Luna were making sure the Slytherins were truly incapacitated by now. His wand hand trembled, and for the first time, I saw the crack in his mask of arrogance.

And I had my wand pressed directly to his throat.

Malfoy swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing against the tip of my wand. He raised both hands slowly in mock surrender. His gray eyes flickered with something - fear, maybe, or anger - but I didn't care to figure it out.

Behind me, Rose nodded, brushing her tangled hair from her face, her chest still heaving. "He's the only one left to handle."

"You'll never get away with this!" Pansy shrieked from where she was bound on the floor.

Ginny, wand still alight, glanced at her and snorted. "Watch me." With a flick, she shut Pansy's mouth with a spell that left the girl clawing at her sealed lips, her eyes wild with panic.

The silence was almost satisfying.

I turned back to Malfoy, my hand steady, my wand unwavering. My voice came out low, rough from screaming but laced with iron. "No hard feelings," I told him, tilting my head. "But I just got tortured, Malfoy. And my hands are aching for another one of these."

"Another one of wha-" Before he could finish I had swung my arm and my fist had already collided with his face, I felt some bones in my fingers crack but the pain was almost never there compared to what the Crucio felt like. 

Malfoy stumbled back, clutching his face, eyes wide with shock more than pain. Blood blossomed at the corner of his mouth. For once, he had nothing to say.

"Need me to help with that?" Rose asked lightly, gesturing at my bruised knuckles. Her wand hovered over my hand, ready.

I exhaled shakily, flexing my fingers, the pain pulsing. "Yeah. Please."

A warmth spread through my hand as Rose murmured the spell, the ache ebbing instantly. My fingers straightened. Whole again.

"Let's get out of here," Neville said suddenly, his voice steady but urgent, eyes scanning the wreckage of the room.

"Yeah," Ron agreed, his jaw set tight. His fists clenched around his reclaimed wand.

We all looked at each other - Rose, Ginny, Neville, Ron, Luna, me - our faces bruised, our robes scorched, our breaths ragged. But our eyes burned with the same determination.

∆

We finally reunited with Harry and Hermione. There wasn't time for embraces or relief, only sharp nods of acknowledgment, adrenaline still buzzing in our veins from the chaos back at the castle. We huddled quickly, whispering in urgency, trying to decide the fastest way to London.

The answer came from the most unlikely of us. Luna's soft voice cut through our frantic brainstorming: "We can use the thestrals."

My head whipped toward her.

The word hung heavy in the air, strange and eerie. I felt a cold weight in my stomach. Thestrals - creatures visible only to those who had seen death. Harry gave a short nod; Neville agreed, and Luna smiled faintly, calm as ever.

But for me? The air tightened around my chest. I squinted into the night sky as we made our way outside, my fingers brushing the rough bark of the Forbidden Forest trees. I saw only emptiness. A harness suspended in midair, shifting slightly, as if pulled by invisible hands.

I still couldn't see them.

The thought of climbing onto an unseen, skeletal, winged beast was enough to make my pulse stutter. My grip on my wand tightened, slick with sweat.

"You'll ride with me," Harry insisted firmly, his hand already finding mine. He didn't give me the chance to argue, just offered a small, reassuring squeeze.

I forced myself to nod. "Alright. I'll... manage."

The ground seemed to tilt as I swung a leg over the empty air, settling carefully behind Harry. My hands clutched the fabric of his robes as the unseen creature beneath us shifted restlessly, its breathing raspy and real though my eyes refused to confirm it.

And then we were off.

The night air whipped across my face as the thestral launched into the sky. My stomach lurched violently at the sudden drop, the castle shrinking below us. The wind howled in my ears, colder than I expected, carrying the scent of pine and earth.

I buried my face against Harry's shoulder and tried not to think about the nothingness beneath me.

It felt endless. An eternity of rushing clouds and starlight, of my heart battering against my ribs, of holding on for dear life.

And then, suddenly, the air shifted - thick, heavy, pressing. London loomed below.

We landed hard, stumbling off the invisible beasts onto cold stone. Every instinct in me screamed to turn back, to run, but there was no choice anymore. We had come this far.

Inside, the stillness was suffocating. No guards, no workers. Just our footsteps echoing as we followed Harry deeper and deeper into the labyrinth of polished black corridors.

The Department of Mysteries.

The name itself raised the hair on the back of my neck. The air was cooler here, stale and faintly metallic, like secrets long locked away. Our group stayed close, but not so close we'd trip over one another, our wands drawn, eyes flicking nervously to every shadow.

Harry gripped my hand like a lifeline. His thumb brushed against my bruised knuckles, and his frown deepened. I knew what he was thinking, but he didn't say a word. Not now.

Finally, he stopped before a door. His breath hitched slightly, and his eyes sharpened. "This is it."

My pulse quickened. I didn't ask how he knew, I trusted him.

"Stay close," he whispered.

We stepped inside.

The door slammed shut behind us with a deafening bang that made me flinch. My head whipped back, but the door was gone. No, not gone, just disguised, blending seamlessly with the walls of the vast, circular chamber.

Dozens of doors stretched around us in a perfect circle. All identical. All closed. Blue flames flickered in sconces along the walls, casting an otherworldly glow that danced across our faces.

The room seemed to hum faintly, as though alive, shifting with each breath we took.

"Brilliant," Ron muttered under his breath, his voice dripping with sarcasm.

We began to move, cautiously, the circle of doors watching us like a hundred blank eyes. The silence was thick, clinging. My free hand hovered near my wand, knuckles white.

Every step took us closer. Closer to Sirius. Closer to whatever trap Voldemort had laid. Surely it couldn't be as simple as walking in and finding him. Nothing about this night had been simple.

And deep down, I think we all knew it was only going to get worse.

We didn't even make it out of the hall.

One second, Harry was clutching the glowing sphere in his hand, his breathing shallow and ragged. The next, shadows spilled into the room - long, sweeping cloaks and gleaming silver masks cutting through the dim light. Death Eaters. At least a dozen of them, fanning out like wolves closing in on prey.

I froze, my heart slamming against my ribs as the circle tightened around us. My wand felt slippery in my palm. I understood what cornered really meant.

"Very good, Potter," a low, drawling voice sneered from the darkness. A figure stepped forward, pale-blond hair spilling over his shoulders, silver mask glinting in the faint light. Lucius Malfoy. His cold eyes locked on the orb in Harry's grasp. "Now hand it over."

Another laugh followed - high, sharp, and unhinged. Bellatrix Lestrange. She prowled forward like a predator, her wild hair a halo of shadows. Her eyes glimmered with a manic light as she circled Neville, pressing the tip of her wand against his throat.

"Give it to me, little baby Potter," she crooned, her voice mocking and sing-song. "Or perhaps I'll make this one scream instead?" She jabbed Neville's jaw with her wand, and he winced, his face pale.

"Don't hurt him!" Harry barked, his voice breaking with desperation.

The Death Eaters surged forward, forcing us to our knees, each one grabbing hold of us before we could react. I felt a pair of gloved hands clamp around my arms, shoving me down hard onto the cold floor.

The prophecy's glow reflected in Harry's glasses as he shook, his knuckles white around the fragile orb.

"No, Harry!" Hermione whispered urgently beside me, her captor's hand tangled in her hair.

"Quiet, Mudblood," the Death Eater holding me spat in my ear.

My stomach twisted, but I forced myself to look up. At Harry. At Neville. At all of us. We were seconds away from being broken. But hope finally struck.

A spell shot across the room, bright and furious. The Death Eater holding Ron was blasted backward. Shouts erupted, curses whizzing through the air like a storm of light.

The Order had arrived.

Remus. Sirius. Tonks. Moody. Kingsley. The sight of them hit me like air in my lungs after drowning.

"Lily!" Remus's voice rang out as he ducked under a streak of red light, deflecting another curse. He was suddenly at my side, blasting my captor off me. I gasped and staggered to my feet, my knees shaking.

"You alright there?" His eyes flicked to me, steady, concerned.

"Almost lost me," I admitted breathlessly, my wand clutched tight.

He gave a faint smile before it vanished at the sight of another spell heading for him. I shoved him instinctively, raising my wand. "Expelliarmus!" The Death Eater's wand flew from his hand, clattering across the floor.

But the room was chaos. Flashes of green, red, blue. Screams. The air thick with smoke and dust, curses ricocheting like lightning in a storm.

I caught sight of Rose darting away from the fight, her face set with determination. Panic rose in me. Where the hell was she going? My feet itched to follow, but a jet of red light missed me by inches, singing the air near my face.

"Focus!" Remus barked, deflecting it. His eyes softened a fraction, voice dropping. "I'll be fine here, Lily. Go. Find Harry. Get out. Let us handle this."

Reluctantly, I nodded, backing away, weaving between duels. Tonks caught my eye, grinned fiercely, and winked before blasting a masked man off his feet.

And then the doors burst open.

Dumbledore.

The sight of him - tall, commanding, power radiating off him like a tidal wave - made hope surge in my chest. If he was here, surely, surely we would win.

The tide seemed to turn. Death Eaters stumbled back, caught off-guard, pressed harder by the combined force of the Order.

Across the chaos, Sirius laughed, his voice loud and reckless. "Is that the best you've got?" he taunted, trading blows with Malfoy, his dueling elegant and brutal all at once. "Nice one, James!"

I almost smiled, until the air went still.

Bellatrix.

Her cackle cut through the din as she raised her wand, and time slowed. A flash of green erupted, streaking across the chaos. Sirius didn't see it. He was too busy laughing, dueling, living.

"SIRIUS!"

∆

And a cliffhanger, are we all okay? You should go hydrate, and take care of yourself during these difficult times. thank you for still reading this story and staying to witness Harry and Lily's adventures.

It's so close to ending however. . . just two more years!