they were running. running through the darkened halls of the department of mysteries;
dusty glass orbs shattering around them, deafening crashes, and quick flashes of blood.
harry risked a glance over his shoulder to make sure his friends were all okay, and he was
partially satisfied to see dolohov’s pursuit hindered by a nice spell from luna. feeling his
breath stinging his lungs like fire, he forced his legs to carry him faster, faster, through the
never ending rows of prophecies.

in the distance, harry could distinctly hear wafting voices, all ethereal, all disembodied,
rambling off the predictions they never had the opportunity to make. there was a shudder.
it couldn’t have been an earth-quake, but that’s what it felt like as rows upon rows of
shelves came down around their heads. it looked like there was nowhere to turn, nowhere
to stay safely out of harm’s way. to think, after facing the dark lord four times so far, he
would die in a deserted ministry department because some glass fell on his head…



the prophecies must have caused a ripple effect when they hit the ground, that was herm-
ione’s theory. but if that was the case, time had actually rewound itself and stuck them in
the year 1010. ron seemed to think there was another room of penseives, full of old mem-
ories they were stuck in, but even so… no one knew how big of a rift the destruction at the
ministry of magic caused. because unknown to them, they weren’t the only time period affected.



GOODRIDDANCE
i hope you had the time of your life.