Time Astral | Sirius Black

22||The Illusion

April 25th, 1996

Harry was fuming, striding beside Hermione and Ron after a chat with Cho.

She was getting on his nerves like no other, always insisting he had something going on with Hermione and crying for minutes after that.

"Dumbledore will be back before long," said Ernie Macmillan confidently on the way back from Herbology.

"They couldn't keep him away in our second year and they won't be able to this time. The Fat Friar told me . . ." He dropped his voice conspiratorially, so that Harry, Ron, and Hermione had to lean closer to him to hear, ". . . that Umbridge tried to get back into his office last night after they'd searched the castle and grounds for him. Couldn't get past the gargoyle. The Head's office has sealed itself against her." Ernie smirked. "Apparently she had a right little tantrum . . ."

"Oh, I expect she really fancied herself sitting up there in the Head's office," said Hermione viciously, as they walked up the stone steps into the entrance, hall. "Lording it over all the other teachers, the stupid puffed-up, power-crazy old —"

"Now, do you really want to finish that sentence, Granger?"

Draco Malfoy had slid out from behind the door, followed by Crabbe and Goyle. His pale, pointed face was alight with malice.

"Afraid I'm going to have to dock a few points from Gryffindor and Hufflepuff," he drawled.

"You can't take points from fellow prefects, Malfoy," said Ernie at once.

"I know prefects can't dock points from each other," sneered Malfoy; Crabbe and Goyle sniggered. "But members of the Inquisitorial Squad —"

"The what?" said Hermione sharply.

"The Inquisitorial Squad, Granger," said Malfoy, pointing toward a tiny silver I upon his robes just beneath his prefect's badge.

"A select group of students who are supportive of the Ministry of Magic, hand-picked by Professor Umbridge. Anyway, members of the Inquisitorial Squad do have the power to dock points. . . . So, Granger, I'll have five from you for being rude about our new headmistress. . . . Macmillan, five for contradicting me. . . . Five because I don't like you, Potter . . . Weasley, your shirt's untucked, so I'll have another five for that. . . . Oh yeah, I forgot, you're a Mudblood, Granger, so ten for that . . ."

Ron pulled out his wand, but Hermione pushed it away, whispering, "Don't!"

Wise move, Granger," breathed Malfoy. "New Head, new times . . . Be good now, Potty . . . Weasel King . . ."

Just when they were out of earshot, Hermione and Ron started conversing anxiously with Ernie, who was now joined by Fred and George.

But Harry wasn't listening. No, he couldn't listen. Something was wrong, something was very wrong -

Harry gasped, his knees buckling as he fell down, his scar suddenly hurting -

I need that Prophecy

You'll have to kill me

Harry tried to breathe, tried to force air into his lungs but he couldn't, he couldn't - his chest was burning -

Oh, I will. But first, you will fetch it for me

CRUCIO

Harry's breathing went rapid and Hermione, finally noticing, knelt down in front of him - calling the others to stop fighting but he couldn't hear - his eyes -

CRUCIO

Sirius was screaming, he was screaming and Voldemort stood with a wand outstretched -

97, prophecy. That was all he saw before his vision returned and he found Hermione, Ron and the twins before him.