Disclaimer: All Harry Potter series are the legal right granted to Mrs. Joanne Kathleen Rowling. I own nothing; I am simply borrowing her story and plot, twisting it into one of my own forthe entertainment of others as well as mine. No money is intended to be made out of any my fan-fic/s.

Authors Note: This fic is being revised, changed, spell and grammar checked, so its sequel, F.T.F will be on hold while I finish it. Sorry for the inconvenience!

On with the story!

Enjoy!


The Vicis Clock

By Abay


PROLOUGE


If the muggles, whom colonized the area of Little Whinging, Surrey, would have peered out from behind their fine and exquisite curtains, they might have noticed a short, skinny boy with messy jet black hair, mount a broom with an owl on his shoulders.

"Go on Hedwig," he said to the snowy white owl as though he was speaking to a human, as though the owl could actually comprehend him. "Take me to the Ministry of Magic."

But the owl, Hedwig, either refused to listen or just didn't understand, because she simply stayed put on his shoulders, looking quite headstrong indeed. The boy however, Harry Potter, continued to speak to the owl nevertheless, trying to coax it into listening to him.

"Come on Hedwig! Please. Take me there before anyone notices anything!"

Stubbornly, Hedwig simply hooted a 'no' to him, and flew up to the street lamp, completely ignoring Harry's desperate pleas of help. Heaving a sigh, the boy got off his broom mumbling under his breath, and then he looked left and right scanning the area around him, as though expecting someone to jump from behind, ready to strike him.

"Listen Hedwig," he said raising his voice so she could hear him. "You don't understand. I haven't got anyone left here. I don't have parents... Dursley's hate me ...and …and Sirius...I need him Hedwig, I need my godfather…" he said quietly, trailing off, and lowering his head, biting back tears, as he clutched on to his broom like his whole life depended on it.

Hedwig sensing his fears immediately flew by his side and nipped his ears in a comforting sort of way, trying to reassure him that everything was going to be alright. The boy looked up at her, his magnificent emerald eyes filled with pain and sorrow… too much pain and sorrow for a sixteen year-old, and in a low, wavering voice he said:

"I have to save him Hedwig… he can't be gone… he's not gone… I have to… "

Looking into his eyes, Hedwig hooted in defeat. It ached her to see him in pain. The boy, Harry, smiled gratefully at the owl, for the first time he had smiled in weeks,mounted his polished-up broom, andpulled out a silky, velvety, silver material fromwithin hiscloak.

Harry looked left and right once again, just to make sure that no one was on his tail, and when seeing the streets quiet and deserted, he quickly draped the material over him, and in an instance, his whole body and broom vanished. Not seeming to find this startling in the slightest bit, Hedwig, though reluctantly, took off at her masters orders.

As Harry grabbed the lever of his broom, and pulled it upwards, he felt his heart was frantically beating as he flew into the night air. He was actually doing this! He was going to save Sirius! He was going to have his Godfather back!

How, he had no idea, but he was going try, he would do anything to have his godfather back, and as those thoughts crossed his mind, his heart started to overflow with joy and happiness, a feeling that was strange to him for too long, and the empty hole in his heart was disappearing as hopeful thoughts took its place.


Hour after hour wisped away, cold wind slapped across his frozen face causing him to shiver from head to toe, and no matter how many times he wiped the fog away from his glasses, they somehow seemed to be getting foggier by the minute, obscuring his sight, and Hedwig was constantly altering her course. He didn't know how long he was flying but their flight was appearing to go on ceaselessly when suddenly light erupted from the horizon. The sun was rising.

At the dawn of the sun Harry started to panic. He needed to hurry up before the Order notices his disappearance, and as though Hedwig heard his very thought, she dived down and Harry descended after her, letting the ice-cold wind pierce him across the face…but he did not care…he was going to see Sirius! He was going to have his godfather back!

Now, he could see tops of buildings, street lamps, television wires, and chimneys, until he finally he reached the familiar shabby offices, and the old telephone box.

Gracefully, he touched right in front of the telephone box, and dismounted his broom rather clumsily, for it seemed that his limps were still frozen cold.

"Listen Hedwig," he said taking off the hood of his invisibility clock, so that she could see him. "I don't want you going for help. Go back to the Dursley's alright, and stay there."

Narrowing her grey eyes at him, she ruffled her wings, and puffed up her chest angrily, but he knew, that although Hedwig disliked his orders completely, she would follow them.

Turning to the old telephone box, he felt his heart thump wilder against his chest—this was it, this was it! His godfather was only a few floors beneath his feet! Without any apprehension, Harry opened the grungy, un-kept, red door as Hedwig took off, stepped inside, and with shivering hands he grabbed the receiver, dialed the numbers six, two, four, four, two, and watched as the dial whirred smoothly into place.

"Welcome to the Ministry of Magic. Please state your name and business," a cool woman's voice said filling the box.

He had just opened his mouth to declare to the woman that he was Harry Potter, but held back his tongue as he realized how foolish that move would be. Although he hated being so, he knew that he was famous among witches and wizards from around the world, and surely, with no doubt, his name would attract too much unwanted attention. And besides, he told himself, the order will track me easily back here if I did...

No, he thought shaking his head. He wasn't going to make it easy for anyone to know where he was.

"John... err…..ah, Skitter! Err...ah, here to...visit the... Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office!" he stuttered, remembering the first time he came here with Mr. Weasley.

"Thank you," replied the woman's brisk, business like voice. "Visitors please take the badge and attach it to the front of your robes."

A badge slipped out of the metal chute, and Harry picked it up reading: John Skitter, visit to Misuse of Muggle Artifacts Office, but contrary to his orders, Harry completely disobeyed the rules and chucked the badge out of a broken hole in the telephone box.

"Visitor, you are required to submit to a search and present your wand for registration at the security desk, which is located at the far end of the atrium."

Then, the floor of the telephone box started to shudder and sink to the ground, and remembering that he was supposed to be invisible, he quickly pulled up his invisibility clock's hood on. Slowly, a golden light started to illuminate his feet and rise slowly up from his legs to his torso, then blinding his eyes with the intensity of the light. The door sprang open with a creek and as soon as Harry's eyes became adjustedto the blinding light, he stepped out.

"Have a nice day, and thank you for visiting the Ministry of Magic."

Harry let his eyes travel across the atrium, studying his surroundings, and he saw, to his disappointment, that it was filled with witches and wizards, running all over the place. Some seemed to be pouring over the stacks of parchments in their hands; others were screaming directions to an official looking group, whom appeared to be Aurors. Other lower ranking Aurors were patrolling around, checking suspicious people with suspicious items. Two men at the far corner seemed to be having a shouting match too. In short, there seemed to be absolute mayhem in the Ministry.

It was no surprise to him that the Ministry would be crowded at this time of night, because now, the Ministry was well aware of Voldemorts' return, late as it might have been, but he wished that it would have been a little less crowded.

As stealthily as he could, Harry dogged between people and walked through the gates into the hall beyond trying not to bump into other people or poke them with his broom, and as he reached the elevators he waited silently for a lift to come by the chattering crowd.

Although many lifts descended clattering and jangling as they did so, Harry didn't step into any one of them. The lifts were too crowded; he would unquestionably attract unwanted attention, and so he would wait, for the right opportunity.

After long minutes of waiting, of dogging, and jumping here and there to avoid colliding into people, a lift descended, and a group of three wizards entered the lift. Praying that no more people would enter along with them, Harry wiped his hands on his robes as they started to get sweaty with anticipation and dashed inside the lift along with the men.

A big bearded wizard, that Harry remembered from his first visit here sighed and leaned against the wall.

"Never thought Fudge would put all these lives at stake just to keep the peaceof his mind," he said rubbing the temple of his head tiredly.

"None of us did, Bob," replied a black man, with a deep, strong voice.

"Not to mention the way he disgraced Dumbledore and Potter!" said the third wizard, his fiery red hair resembling his anger.

"He's afraid if you ask me," the black wizard said conversationally.

"Afraid?" cried the red haired wizard angrily. "Afraid! We're all afraid of what You-Know-Who's capable of, but we've got to fight! There's no hiding from him Charles!"

"I know, David, I know," sighed the black wizard, Charles, as he rolled his eyes. "I was just saying that he wasn't man enough to face it. That's all."

"So, who'd you reckon the next minister will be," Bob quickly asked, clearly trying to stop the other two from bickering at each other.

"I don't know Bob. Not a lot of Wizards are willing to take the job. To risky you know. With You-Know-Who and his followers running around killing people," mumbled Charles as he fidgeted un-comfortably, and then added in an undertone. "You remember what happened in the first war, when Minister Eastwood was murdered…I was there you know, I was the one who found him in the office…Still have nightmares about that day I do…"

"Yeah, I've seen his picture on the Daily Prophet. Barbarians is what they are, those Death Eaters, couldn't even leave him in peace after they killed him…don't know how they twisted his head all the way—Oh, sorry Charles," Bob said apologetically, as Charles shuddered involuntarily.

"I heard Amelia Bone's willing to take the risk," David said continuing on. "Perfect for the position if you ask me. She had experience with You-Know-Who in the first war. I swear I never saw that witch rest when he first rouse, that woman was always willing to help. And Amelia's fair," he added as an after thought.

"Yes, she would do well," Bob agreed, but there conversation was cut off by the relaxed woman's voice.

"Level four, Department for the Regulation and the Control of Magical Creatures, Incorporating Beast, Being and Spirit Divisions, Goblin Liaison Office and Pest Advisory Bureau…"

"Alright, this is our stop. Better hurry up, that fire-breathing-chicken grew a good ten feet yesterday."

He watched, huddled in the corner of the elevator, despite the specious room he had, as the men stepped out of the lift, but Harry didn't dare to press the button number nine, fearing that his cover would be exposed, until the three men were out of sight, and after what seemed an hour of time, the lift jangled to a stop and the cool woman's voice came.

"Department of Mysteries…"


A.n: Please, please review, I would love your opinions!