Shampoo

Chapter Nine - The Ministry of Magic

Harry was pale as a ghost when he returned to the Gryffindor common room. Hermione and Ron were alone, as Ron had driven off Hermione's new admirers in a fit of rage.

"What's wrong?" Hermione asked after taking one look at Harry's face.

"What's a Horcrux?" Harry countered.

Hermione was puzzled. "I've never heard of it."

"Neither has Malfoy. I have to go to the Ministry of Magic."

He related his conversation with Snape.

"But, if Voldemort wants you to go get the Prophecy..."

"He wants me to go on his schedule, not mine. It's possible I'll have to deal with Death Eaters guarding it, so I'll have to be prepared for anything."

"Well, we're coming with you," Ron said and Hermione nodded.

Harry nodded and sighed. "We'll leave right after dinner. I want to get there after the Ministry closes so we don't have to answer any questions. Hermione, see if you can find anything on Horcruxes in the meantime."

"How do you plan to get there?" she asked.

"Fly."

She blanched. "On... on brooms?"

"We have a shortage of hippogriffs at the moment," Ron pointed out.

Hermione shuddered. "Brooms sound better, actually."

Hermione spent a fruitless afternoon in the library searching for any reference to Horcruxes. Even Irma Pince, the librarian, looked at her blankly when she gave up and asked directly.

She met Harry and Ron at the top of the Astronomy Tower. Draco Malfoy was waiting for them, broom in hand.

"Decided to try for it, eh?" he said. "I'm coming with you."

Harry and Ron immediately protested, but Hermione asked, "Why?"

"I have my reasons."

"Plan to snatch it for your Death Eater friends, most likely," Ron spat.

Draco ignored him.

"Nice hair, Granger. You suck at flying."

Hermione blushed. "I know."

"You can ride with me."

"Oh, right! So you can throw her off over the lake or some sharp rocks?" Ron yelled.

Draco snorted.

"Where have you been, Weasley? Granger and I are very close, now." He stepped over to Hermione and threw an arm over her shoulder. "Very close. Didn't you tell them, honey?"

He nibbled her ear and Hermione blushed while Harry and Ron gaped at them in disbelief.

"I'll ride with Draco," she said lamely.

"He's not coming."

"I'll keep an eye on him," she promised.

"I'm sure you will," Draco purred.

Thankfully, Harry decided not to argue; he merely hopped on his broom angrily and soared over the parapet. Ron glared and followed.

Draco stepped over his broom and Hermione tentatively stood behind him.

"I really hate this," she said.

"Hold on tight."

The broom rose, lifting her off her feet and she flung her arms around Draco's waist. She pressed her cheek into his back and closed her eyes tightly as the wind whistled through her hair.

They flew for what seemed forever. Hermione's hands were nigh frozen, but the rest of her was warm from Draco's body. She didn't open their eyes until they began to descend.

They stopped in an alley and Ron led the way to the Ministry of Magic's visitor entrance--and ugly red telephone booth.

"We have to go inside," Ron explained. "Fred and George came this way once and told me how it works."

Harry and Ron entered the booth, followed by Hermione. She looked expectantly at Draco.

He sighed and forced himself inside, making sure he wrapped himself around Hermione in the process. His hands managed to slide into places where they ought not and Hermione felt herself blushing profusely in the close quarters. Malfoy also trod on Ron's foot, most likely on purpose. She felt he was having a bit more fun than the situation warranted.

Ron dialed a code and a voice said, "Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business."

"Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger, and... Draco Malfoy. We're here to obtain a Prophecy." Four badges popped out of the machine. Hermione looked at her badge. It read: Hermione Granger. Prophecy Retrieval.

"Thank you. Visitors, please take the badges and attach them to the front of your robes."

The floor of the elevator began to descend and the voice continued, "Visitors to the Ministry, you are required to submit to a search and present your wands at the Security desk, which is located at the far end of the Atrium."

The elevator halted and the door opened.

"The Ministry of Magic wishes you a pleasant evening."

They entered the Atrium, which was deserted, and walked quietly to the Security booth. As they approached, Hermione saw that the security guard was sleeping soundly.

"Should I wake him?" Harry asked and propped his broom against the counter.

"Great idea, Potter. Let's waste as much time as possible and alert as many people as we can. Give the Dark Lord plenty of time to send along his followers."

Harry glared at Draco, but bypassed the Security booth to enter an empty elevator. He looked at the buttons in puzzlement.

"Which floor?"

Draco reached past him and pressed the nine button.

"Department of Mysteries," he said dryly. "Some raid. You don't even know where you're going."

"It's not a raid," Harry protested. The elevator opened and he called out excitedly that it was exactly like his dream. Draco yawned. Hermione rubbed a temple that had started aching.

They entered a dark circular room that began to rotate as soon as they shut the door behind them.

Harry swore.

"It will be nearly impossible to find our way out of here in a hurry," Hermione said glumly.

"I'll know the right corridor when I see it," Harry explained. "We'll just have to try some doors."

"What kind of stupid place is this?" Draco snarled. "What's the bloody point of having a room with randomly moving unmarked doors? How do people work here? The inefficiency alone is mind-boggling. I've got to speak to my father about the utter lack of logic--"

"Just open a door, Malfoy," Harry said.

The first room was full of brains floating in a tank of glittering green liquid.

"I vote we leave Weasley here to pick out a new brain. Choose wisely, Weasel, even though you haven't much to work with. Maybe with your new brain..."

Hermione stopped Ron from hexing Draco and after a hissed shouting match, they returned to the dark room and Hermione marked the one they'd opened. The next door revealed an amphitheatre-like space with a stone archway in the center. A ragged black cloth veiled the doorway and moved slightly as though with a breeze. It was very cold.

"What is this place?" Harry asked in a stage whisper.

"Are we sightseeing now?"

Harry slammed the door.

"Someone remind me why Malfoy is here."

The third door refused to open by any means, but the fourth brought a gasp from Harry.

"This is it!"

The room was full of clocks of all types and sizes. A freakish bell jar in the corner contained a seemingly endless floating chicken-or-the-egg cycle.

"Anyone want a Time-Turner?" Draco asked, examining a glassed-in shelf.

"NO!" Harry and Hermione said emphatically.

Finally, they entered a huge, high-ceilinged room with hundred of shelves that held small, dusty glass balls.

"Row ninety-seven," Harry said and marched down the rows with determination.

"He might want to pretend someone is here that wants to kill him," Draco commented mildly. Hermione dashed after Harry, wand out and wary of danger.

They located the correct row and shelf without interruption and Harry stared at the dusty globe for a long moment. He reached up and lifted it down.

"Accio Prophecy," said Draco. The globe flew out of Harry's hand and into Draco's. Without a pause, Draco smashed it hard against a wooden shelf.

"...power to vanquish... seventh month dies... other survives..." The broken words moaned out of the globe and were gone.

"WHAT DID YOU DO THAT FOR?" Harry screamed.

"Because I knew you wouldn't." Draco grabbed Hermione's hand. "Let's get out of here!"

They raced for the exit just as masked Death Eaters began to materialize behind them. They made it to the clock room with jets of spell-light blasting by them. Hermione slammed the door and sealed it while the others continued to the rotating room. Luckily, the sigils still burned on the doors they had marked. Hermione made another on the door that shut behind her and they waited as it spun.

"Everyone open a different door," Draco ordered.

"Here!" Hermione yelled, recognizing the corridor revealed by her door just as a nearby door blasted off its hinges.

They ran into the elevator and waited breathlessly as it slowly rose.

"I can't believe you smashed my Prophecy," Harry huffed around breaths. "You're such a bastard."

"I know. But, you'll thank me, later," Draco said calmly.

When they exited into the Atrium, Hermione sealed the elevator doors after pressing every single button. It wouldn't slow the Death Eaters for long.

They grabbed their brooms and ran for the exit, but the security guard was now awake.

"Hey!" he yelled. "What you doing 'ere?"

They halted in their tracks, not because of the guard, but because Voldemort had suddenly appeared, blocking the exit.

"Going somewhere, Potter?" he hissed. Harry and the others backed away slowly. "Give me the Prophecy."

"I can't. Malfoy smashed it."

Voldemort's snakelike eyes fixed on Draco.

"Son of Lucius. Is it true?"

Draco nodded. "I was trying to get it for you, oh Reptilian One. I had it in my hand. Right here!"

"And?" Voldemort asked.

Draco shrugged. "I tripped. Tatty old carpets they have down there in the Department of Mysteries. You'd think with their ridiculous budget they could afford decent rugs. And would it kill them to dust once in awhile? It's appalling."

Voldemort wasn't the only one staring at Draco in befuddlement.

"Enough!" the Dark Lord yelled just as the elevator doors exploded outward to expel a hoard of Death Eaters. Draco sighed.

"You might want to teach them about doors. I don't think they quite understand the concept."

Before Voldemort's henchmen could surround the party, another group Apparated into the room. Magical jets of light exploded everywhere as the Order of the Phoenix engaged the Death Eaters. Harry's party took refuge behind a fountain with a huge statue in the center.

"We should Apparate out of here," Draco said to Hermione. She glared at him.

"I can't leave Harry and Ron!"

"It was just a suggestion."

"Why did you smash the Prophecy, anyway?" she asked as Draco flicked his wand. A chunk of marble that had been whistling toward them sailed off in another direction.

"What good comes of knowing the future?" Draco asked. "If the stupid prophecy said the Dark Lord wins, what would you do, Potter? Throw yourself off a cliff?"

"Of course not."

"Why not? If the future can't be changed, why fight it? Besides, most prophecies are ridiculously cryptic and only make sense when you look at them in hindsight. This way, neither you nor Voldemort know what the future brings, so you can gamely fight on without preconceptions."

"What do you care?" Harry asked and ducked as a burst of purple light flew over his head and singed the topmost bits of his black hair. "Why aren't you over there with your Death Eater friends?"

Draco snorted. "Honestly, can you see me covering this gorgeous face with a tacky old mask? I think not. And look what they did to my arm!" He yanked up a sleeve to reveal the Dark Mark tattooed on his forearm. "A little present from my father. He drugged me one night and I woke up with this. He thought I'd be pleased." Draco's grey eyes glittered with rage.

A face popped around the side of the statue with mask askew. Hermione yelled a spell and the man toppled backward out of the fountain. Draco went on.

"As if I'd actually be happy with this ghastly tattoo! Even if I had planned to mar my perfect skin with something as permanently scarring as a tattoo, I sure as hell wouldn't have chosen a putrid skull vomiting up a snake. I would have preferred something smaller and more tasteful, like Sex God written in tiny runes on my left buttock..."

"You're betraying your father and Voldemort because of a tattoo?" Ron asked incredulously.

Draco glared. "This has caused me great emotional trauma. How am I supposed to go about shirtless and display my fabulous physique, now? It's a bloody tragedy."

Dumbledore chose that moment to finally appear.