An ear shattering, yet slightly muffled noise of an explosion suddenly rang out; something had just rocked the Ministry to its very foundations, causing Dolohov and Avery to stumble and lose their footing.
Oleandra, who'd already thrown to the floor as a result of blocking Dolohov's Curse, was comparatively less affected by the localized earthquake— seeing an opportunity, she swept Dolohov's legs right from under him, before leaping to her feet.
"Stupefy!" Oleandra shouted. "Stupefy!"
Two jets of red light burst out of Oleandra's wand.
Avery keeled over and went out like a light; the first Stunner having stricken him squarely in the chest. However, Dolohov rolled to the side, resulting in the second shot missing and leaving a scorched mark on the stone floor instead of Stunning the man.
"Crucio!" Dolohov growled.
"Prote—" Oleandra began chanting, before letting out a short curse. "Oh, Hel!"
Oleandra immediately aborted the Shield Charm she'd been about to perform and ducked— Unforgivable Curses pierced through most magical shields like hot knives through butter.
Crackling red lightning shot out of Dolohov's wand, just barely missing Oleandra and charring the wall behind her.
"Confringo!" shouted Oleandra, aiming at her opponent's feet, before following up with a, "Petrificus Totalus!"
Dolohov dodged the first spell, but the goal had never been to turn him into a fine red mist— the Blasting Curse exploded at his feet, pelting him with stone shards. The resulting shockwave also sent him reeling— stunning him long enough for the Full-Body Bind to land.
Unfortunately, Oleandra didn't have time to gloat over Dolohov's frozen body, since the others needed her. She quickly turned on her heel and pushed open the door to the Room of Doors— and strangely enough, counting the door which Oleandra had just opened, all but two of this room's twelve doors were wide open.
Upon closer inspection, the circular room was riddled with holes and scorch marks, and a few bodies littered the floor (thankfully, all belonging to Death Eaters). There was a small pile of bodies lying at the foot of a certain door— evidently, Astoria, Tracey and Harry had made their last stand there, using the doorway as a chokehold.
As Oleandra gingerly stepped over the unconscious bodies of the Death Eaters to pass through said doorway, a niggling feeling of déjà vu began to wash over her.
"The Space Room?" Oleandra muttered to herself. "What in the world happened here…?"
An anti-gravity field had previously been active in this room, but it no longer seemed to be working. Oleandra could now walk normally across the floor, which was covered in rubble; it appeared as though the room's model of the solar system had been blasted into smithereens.
Whereas before, the Space Room had been dimly lit by the light of the stars in the backdrop, it was now plunged into total darkness. The stars all seemed to have gone dark, which probably explained why Oleandra's runic magic was still remaining dormant here.
Out of the corner of her eye, Oleandra caught a glimpse of light deeper into the room. She cautiously drew closer to the source of the light, noting that all around it, there was a certain wrongness in the magical colours that her Mystic Eyes could perceive.
An enormous hole had been blasted into the Space Room's walls— space-time itself was bending around its edges. Oleandra didn't know if this strangeness had anything to do with the Space Room's uniqueness or it was all part of the magic that allowed the Ministry to occupy less space on the outside than it did on the inside.
Whatever it was, she had no intention of touching it.
A flicker of movement suddenly caught Oleandra's attention— something on the other side of the hole had just moved. The dark, swirling colours in this void were making it difficult to see just what was happening, so Oleandra deactivated her Mystic Eyes, to check if she'd be able to see better this way. And to her surprise, it worked.
People appeared to be battling on the other side— the Room of Death, judging by the Gate sat upon its dais, in the middle of the room. Indistinct figures milled around it, red and green blips of light continuously flashing between them. Judging by the number of red lights compared to the number of green ones, the Death Eaters appeared to be losing.
!!!
"YOU KILLED HIM! I'LL KILL YOU!"
A heart-rending scream had just shattered the silence of the Space Room. Oleandra turned on the spot and stared at the exit, pricking up her ears. Running footsteps, growing closer… and then growing fainter.
That had been Harry's voice, hadn't it?
"Harry, wait!" came Astoria's voice, from right outside the Space Room. "I said, wait!"
There was no way that Oleandra could mistake her younger sister's voice for anyone else's. Oleandra immediately ran for the Space Room's exit, but as she emerged from the doorway, she ploughed right into someone else, and they both fell over, their wands flying out of their hands.
Seeing stars floating in front of her eyes, the dazed Oleandra felt around for her wand, only to feel something wrapping around her throat, attempting to garotte her…
"Daphne, stop!" came Tracey's voice. "You're choking Oleandra!"
The pressure around Oleandra's neck lessened, allowing her to draw breath.
"Daphne?" Oleandra wheezed, holding her throat as the world gradually came back into focus. "How the Hel…?"
"There will be time for questions later," said Daphne, glaring at her twin sister. "You've got a lot to answer for, but for now, we have bigger fish to fry. Our stupid little sister has run after Potter— we need to stop her before she gets herself killed, or worse."
"Agreed," said Oleandra, as she staggered to her feet.
"I think she went through there," said Tracey, pointing out the exit.
Oleandra swiftly crossed the Room of Doors and reached the exit, and from there, she retraced her steps until she reached the lifts, followed closely by Tracey and Daphne. Oleandra mashed the 'up' button, and as if sensing the urgency of the situation from the rapid button presses, a lift soon presented itself. Oleandra quickly climbed onboard, slamming her fist on the 'Atrium' button.
Feeling Tracey's hand sliding into hers, Oleandra squeezed it tenderly, her gaze still fixed on the walls of the lift's shaft, which appeared to be rapidly moving behind the grille doors, from her perspective. After what seemed like an eternity, the lift's grilles slowly slid open, revealing the tasteless décor of the Atrium.
The three girls rushed out, only to be met with a strange sight.
Astoria and Harry were huddled behind the golden Fountain of Magical Brethren, an amorphous blob lying at their feet in a boneless puddle. At their side stood a tall man with a full head of curly golden hair, who was wearing a bone-white mask.
"I have heard of you," a chillingly calm voice spoke up. "To the best of my knowledge, one such as you ought to have no stake in this, so I shall give you one single chance. Turn over the boy and the prophecy, and I shall spare you."
That voice, those eyes, that face like melted wax— it was one that Oleandra had seen many times in her nightmares. The three girls' hearts sank— that was Voldemort, it just had to be!
"Ah, yes," the masked man replied cheerily. "If you had asked for my autograph, then I would have gladly acceded to your demand— but I'm afraid I must decline. A certain person asked me to protect this young man, you see."
The masked man raised his wand, but just as quickly as he had done so, he lowered it again.
"Oh," he said quietly. "Well, this certainly is embarrassing."
Completely out of the blue, the masked man lunged at Harry and grabbed him by the wrist, before Disapparating away with him, just before the green light of Voldemort's Killing Curse reached them.
Whomst'd've?