Voldemort was ecstatic, well part of him was. The rest of him was still furious at being forced to undertake this job himself. Still, he had done it. He and his Death Eaters had managed to sneak into the Ministry completely undetected. He was still incredibly annoyed at the incompetence of his minions. Damn them, damn them for not being able to retrieve one little prophecy. If they had been more competent he would not have been forced to come here himself. Still, that no longer mattered. He was here now and soon he would learn the full contents of the prophecy. The prophecy that had been the reason for his downfall all those years ago. The prophecy that he had yet to learn the full meaning of. Soon he would know, he would learn what the future held in store. Then there would be nothing and no one who could stop him. He would rule Britain and crush his enemies into dust.
He glided silently past towering shelves covered with small, dusty glass orbs. They glimmered dully in the light issuing from more candle-brackets set at intervals along the shelves. Like those in the circular room he had passed earlier, their flames were burning blue. The room was very cold. He looked at the end of the closest row. Beneath the branch of blue-glowing candles protruding from it glimmered the silver figure fifty-three. Not much further to go, he thought. The prophecy he was after was in row ninety-seven. Finally, he came to the row he sought and strode down it, peering at the tiny little yellow labels as he passed.
Then, he found it, there it was, right there on the shelf. He read the yellowish label affixed to the shelf right beneath the dusty glass ball. In spidery writing was written a date of some sixteen years previously, and below that:
S.P.T. to A.P.W.B.D.
Dark Lord
and (?)
His wand flicked out as he cast a series of ward detection charms. The security around the prophecies had been impossible to breach, at least by his minions, which was the reason he was here. Still, according to the information he had obtained so far, the prophecy should be readily accessible to the individuals they referred to.
His readings came back and displayed themselves as a set of glowing misty symbols. Hmm, what was there...Not much really, Just a couple of wards - There was the rather interesting ward which made the orb impossible to pick up. This was linked to an identity discerning ward which seemed to control it and enable and disable access to the orb as required. Also bundled in was a rather nifty madness-inducing curse set to inflict anyone who got past the other wards.
The Identity Ward might be problematic, he thought. After all, the prophecy was not labelled as Lord Voldemort or even Tom Riddle. It simply said 'Dark Lord and (?)'. Would the ward identify him as the Dark Lord the prophecy pertained to? Could any Dark Lord pick it up? Why on earth had they not labelled it with his proper name. At the very least, they could have written You-Know-Who if they were too terrified to write down his proper name. What on Earth was wrong with the useless...lazy...son of...frigging bureaucrats. Couldn't even label a prophecy correctly.
Well, there was only one way to find out, he thought as his hand reached out, moved forward slowly and...and…plucked the prophecy from its shelf. He heaved a sigh of relief. It seemed that the ward had indeed identified him as the one the prophecy referred to. Now to listen to it...he raised his wand and prepared to activate the orb.
Sirius Black grinned into his mirror as he saw the Dark Lord gripping the prophecy in his hand. He had added a few additions to the Hall of Prophecies. One of them had been another set of triggers built right on top of the existing security system. Being a marauder had really paid off there. He had hidden his spells well, barely existing, there was just the thinnest, tiniest, slenderest thread of magic leading from the ministries wards to his triggers. Hidden so well, that even the Dark Lord had missed them.
His triggers had been set to do a series of tasks as soon as the identity-discerning ward identified Lord Voldemort. The first task had been set to activate a communication mirror hidden among the shelves. This had notified Sirius who had pulled out his own mirror just in time to see Voldemort lifting the prophecy orb.
The second activated a few other things. There were quite a few items that Sirius had shrunk and secreted around the room the night he left England for good. He had shrunken down and hidden several things in dark dusty corners where they had lain undisturbed for all this time. Now they started expanding. Enlarging themselves back to their original sizes. Spherical shapes were popping into existence all over the room.
The final task had been to activate a charm very similar to that used by a certain red-haired woman whenever she wanted to send a message to any of her children that had not been behaving in the manner that she expected. Similar - in precisely the same way that a Howitzer is similar to a BB gun.
Just as Lord Voldemort was about to tap the dusty orb that was clutched in his hand with his wand, the final trigger activated and Lord Voldemort heard a sound. A sound that blared forth from every surface within the room. A sound that drove him to his knees as his ears exploded with pain and every bone in his body vibrated along with the sound waves. A voice, which could have been mistaken, just based on sheer volume alone, with the voice of god said -
....
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