Slytherin's True Heir (Remember me 2)

Attack On the Ministry

We flew through the gathering darkness; My face felt stiff and cold, legs numb from gripping the Thestral's sides so tightly, we were deaf from the thundering rush of air in our ears, and mouth was dry and frozen from the cold night wind. It felt like we were flying forever. It was impossible to hear each other so we flew in silence. As a bright orange lights grewing larger and rounder on all sides; we could see the tops of buildings, streams of headlights like luminous insect eyes, squares of pale yellow that were windows. Quite suddenly, it seemed, they were hurtling towards the pavement gripping the Thestral's maine tightly and braced for a sudden impact, but the horse touched the dark ground as lightly as a shadow. Slowly Harry landed followed by Ron who landed a short way off and toppled immediately from his Thestral on to the pavement.

'Never again,' he said, struggling to his feet. He made as though to stride away from his Thestral, but, unable to see it, collided with its hindquarters and almost fell over again. Never, ever again ... that was the worst--'

Hermione and Ginny touched down on either side of him: both slid off their mounts a little more gracefully than Ron, though with similar expressions of relief at being back on firm ground; Neville jumped down, shaking; and Luna dismounted smoothly.

'Where do we go from here, then?' she asked Harry in a politely interested voice, as though this was all a rather interesting day-trip.

'Over here,' he said. He gave his Thestral a quick, grateful pat, then led the way quickly to the battered telephone box and opened the door. 'Come on!' he urged the others, as they hesitated.

Ron and Ginny marched in obediently; Hermione, Neville and Luna squashed themselves in after them.

'Whoever's nearest the receiver, dial six two four four two!' he said.

Ron did it, his arm bent bizarrely to reach the dial; as it whirred back into place the cool female voice sounded inside the box.

'Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business.'

'Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger,' Harry said very quickly, 'Ginny Weasley, Neville Longbottom, Alexandria Eastwood, Cedric Diggory and Luna Lovegood ... we're here to save someone, unless your Ministry can do it first!'

'Thank you,' said the cool female voice. 'Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes.'

Badges slid out of the metal chute where returned coins normally appeared. Hermione scooped them up and handed them mutely to Harry over Ginny's head; he glanced at the topmost one, Harry Potter,Rescue Mission.

'Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium.'

'Fine!' Harry said loudly, as his scar gave another throb. 'Now can we move?'

The floor of the telephone box shuddered and the pavement rose up past its glass windows; the scavenging Thestrals were sliding out of sight; blackness closed over their heads and with a dull grinding noise they sank down into the depths of the Ministry of Magic.

A chink of soft golden light hit their feet and, widening, rose up their bodies.

'The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening,' said the woman's voice.

The door of the telephone box burst open; Harry toppled out of it, closely followed by Neville and Luna. The only sound in the Atrium was the steady rush of water from the golden fountain, where jets from the wands of the witch and wizard, the point of the centaur's arrow, the tip of the goblin's hat and the house-elf's ears continued to gush into the surrounding pool.