Shifted: Book Two

Chapter Thirty Seven - Warning

Sirius stood in the centre of a dark room, lit by a few foggy blue lights. He stood with his hands behind his back, surrounded by strong black shelves, storing thousands and thousands of crystal ball-like orbs. It was cold, freezing, in fact. And Sirius wasn't alone.

"I need that prophecy", a haunting voice echoed, his tone snarled like a ghost.

Sirius, with a fearless, yet hopeless expression, remained still, examining his surroundings, particularly looking at a cerulean globe stacked on a shelf a little further in front of him to his left.

"You'll have to kill me", Sirius said greatly.

"Oh, I will. But first, you will fetch it for me", the voice spoke again, as it's owner revealed itself from the shadows.

Almost camouflaging in, a long, pitch-black shroud emerged into the lighter areas of the room, and the skeletal, chalky face unmasked itself. It's eyes were darkened, it's nostrils were slitted, and it's head was completely bald. It's slender arms slipped out the sleeves of its cloak and its claw-like hands revealed its weapon, presenting a bone-like wand, punctured with dark spots. It's nails were long too, grey and cracked, but pointy and sharp enough to dig into the skin of its victims. It's razor-sharp teeth would grind and it's tongue would hiss as a snide voice escaped the mouth where dark smoke and fire would breath out of. It was no one other than Voldemort.

Without hesitance, he pointed his wand at Sirius.

"Crucio!", Voldemort said, somewhat calmly, as he watched Sirius' body jolt and electrocute with millions of poisoning bolts running through his veins.

Sirius groaned, holding his own body and trembling in agony, though it was useless, for Voldemort didn't stop there. He repeated his spell, causing Sirius to collapse to the ground in such physical pain he had never felt before. He shrieked and screamed in torment, sweat dripping from his brow as his skin began to tarnish, sucking the life out of the tortured man. His body weakened, and he no longer had the strength to comfort his own limbs, they staggered lifeless, with no control or health.

The image Hazel's mind was being consumed by switched to-and-fro, from Sirius' dying body in the ground, surrounded by glowing, blue spheres, to the polished, tiled walls of the Ministry's Department of Mysteries, where Lucius Malfoy and Minister Fudge were seen speaking to one another very closely, almost whispering. Then, her mind took her to the glowing globe, the one Voldemort was after, then back to Sirius' perished body again, as it laid on the ground like a fallen statue.

Hazel's mind crumbled, and she was brought back to her reality, surrounded by students, who were still applauding Fred and George's amazing stunt. She panicked and looked over at Harry, who's face was in complete shell shock.

"Sirius", Hazel and Harry said in sync, their eyes widened with concern.

Hazel, Harry, Hermione and Ron immediately dashed into the school whilst everyone continued to finish celebrating outside, their hearts raced rapidly as they desperately needed to think of a way to help Sirius. They made their way to the moving staircase, waiting for the steps to guide them to the right door impatiently.

"I saw it. It's just like with Mr Weasley", Hazel said, clutching her chest as the stairs slowly moved to one door.

"It's the same door we've been dreaming about. I couldn't remember where I'd seen it before-", Harry said, as the four ran up another flight of stairs before it changed its direction.

"Sirius said Voldemort was after something. Something he didn't have the last time and it's in the Department of Mysteries!", Hazel added, as the next flight of stairs navigated slowly to the door they needed to get to.

The pair were out of breath, tired and worried.

"Please, just listen", Ron said, stopping everyone in their tracks as they stood in front of the door, off the staircase, for it continued to move in different directions.

"What if Voldemort meant for you to see this?", Hermione suggested, a great, worrying glare dawned on her.

"What if he's only hurting Sirius because he's trying to get to you both because he knows you'll protect him?".

"So what if he is?", Hazel said, fumbling her fingers with agitation and impatience.

"We're supposed to just let him die? Hermione he's the only family I've got left", Harry said, turning back around and sprinting out the door, Hazel, Hermione and Ron swiftly following behind.

"What do we do?", Ron asked, as they dashed down the hallway.

"We'll have to use the Floo Network", Harry replied, hurrying into a room round the corner.

"Floo? I've never travelled by Floo", Hazel said, slightly anxious.

"Well, this is your chance to use it", Harry said back, as the four entered their common room to quickly change into looser fitting clothes.

"Umbridge has the chimneys under surveillance", Hermione said in a concerned tone.

"Not all of them", Hazel responded confidentially.

Hazel threw on a pair of black flares and a white, collared polo underneath a mocha, oversized jumper. Once the four had quickly dressed into something less recognisable as their school uniform, they made a run for it into another room, and not just any room; Umbridge's office.

"Alohomora", Hermione whispered, picking the lock of the door as it swung open, welcoming the Gryffindor's into Umbridge's pink-infused workplace.

"Alert the Order if you can", Harry said, looking at Hazel, Hermione and Ron, who stood behind him.

"Harry, you're not going alone", Hermione demanded, taking a step forward closer to him with furrowed brows.

"Are you mental? We're going with you", Ron added.

Harry snapped back in urgency and impatience.

"It's too dangerous", he stated, avoiding eye contact with his three friends behind him as he watched the fireplace light up with bright, fern and sea foam flames.

Though she appreciated the chivalrous manner, Hazel though Harry was out of his mind. Harry sighed and continued searching the room, inspecting Umbridge's fireplace.

"When are you going to get it into your head? We're in this together!", Hazel said, kneeling down beside him and staring into his worried eyes; two pools of earthy leaves sunk to the rim of his glass eyes like moss sticking to mountain rocks.

She placed her hand on his knee as the four Gryffindors crouched down by the fireplace, though they all were quickly interrupted by a squeaky voice everyone could recognise.

"That you are", the woman's voice spoke, as the four turned around to find Umbridge's flustered, and rather dusty, face squirm with agitation.