"Those who have mastered Legilimency are able, under certain conditions, to delve into the minds of their victims and to interpret their findings correctly." For Iris Potter, these words defined her whole life. Born with a natural talent for Legilim...
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Black shapes were emerging out of thin air all around them, blocking their way left and right; eyes glinted through slits in hoods, a dozen lit wand tips were pointing directly at their hearts. Ginny gave a gasp of horror.
"Where's Remus and Sirius?" Harry asked immediately, holding his wand out in return.
The group of teens closed in tightly together. Iris could practically sense the fear radiating off of them.
"It's time you learned the difference between reality and dreams, Potter—" Lucius smirked. "You saw what the Dark Lord wanted you to see. Now give. That. To me... No one needs to get hurt," said Malfoy coolly.
It was Harry's turn to laugh.
"Yeah, right!" he said. "I give you this — prophecy, is it? And you'll just let us skip off home, will you?"
The words were hardly out of his mouth when a female Death Eater shrieked, "Accio Proph —"
Iris was ready for her. She shouted "Protego!" before the woman had finished her spell, and though the glass sphere slipped to the tips of Harry's fingers he managed to cling on to it.
"Oh, she knows how to play, little bitty baby Potter," she said, her mad eyes staring through the slits in her hood. "Very well, then —"
"NO!" Lucius Malfoy roared at the woman. "If you smash it — !"
Iris's mind was racing. The Death Eaters wanted the prophecy. Iris knew she couldn't let them get it, but her first priority was her friends. She just wanted to get them all out of this alive, make sure that none of them paid a terrible price for her stupidity...
The woman stepped forward, away from her fellows, and pulled off her hood. Azkaban had hollowed Bellatrix Lestrange's face, making it gaunt and skull-like, but it was alive with a feverish, fanatical glow.
Iris could feel Neville's arm pressed against hers; he was shaking.
"How come Voldemort wants it?"
Several of the Death Eaters let out low hisses.
"You dare speak his name?" whispered Bellatrix.
"Yeah," said Harry, maintaining his tight grip on the glass ball, expecting another attempt to bewitch it from him. "Yeah, I've got no problem saying Vol —"
"How dare you besmirch his name— YOU FILTHY HALF-BLOOD," Bellatrix shrieked.
Iris grabbed the back of Harry's jacket as a warning to stop testing them.
Lucius sharply commanded the witch to calm down before answering Harry's question, "As those who died trying to acquire it for the Dark Lord learned— prophecies can only be retrieved by those about whom they are made."
