They were sitting in one of the rooms of the Department of Mysteries. On the table was an elaborate structure of mirrors, lamps, and magnifying glasses, a time-turner held up on a flimsy wheel. It was the only surviving model: there may have been others, but they weren’t able to find them. It obviously didn’t work: no matter how many times Voldemort turned it, the time-turner remained just an amusing pendant. Now the wizard was studying the runes that covered its thin edges: he was fully focused on the meticulous process, while Harry sat nearby, twirling his feet. There was a lot to see in the Department of Mysteries, and he would have liked to go for a walk, but Voldemort, fearing that he might accidentally die somewhere, kept him by his side.