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┄┄ .•* 𝐂𝐇𝐀𝐏𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝟖 *•. ┄┄

𝐟𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐚 𝐠𝐨𝐨𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐜𝐤

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They Disapparated, pulling the prisoners with them. Hermione felt her magic slip onto her stomach as they did so, and as they did she had to try hard not to throw up.

The prisoners lurched into one another as they landed in a country lane.

One of the Snatchers strode to the gates and shook them.

"How do we get in? They're locked, Greyback, I can't—blimey!"

He whipped his hands away in fright. The iron was contorting, twisting itself out of the abstract furls and coils into a frightening face, which spoke in a clanging, echoing voice. "State your purpose!"

"We've got Potter and Black!" Greyback roared triumphantly. "We've captured Harry Potter and Hermione Black!"

The gates swung open.

"Come on!" said Greyback to his men, and the prisoners were shunted through the gates and up the drive, between high hedges that muffled their footsteps. Hermione saw a ghostly white shape above him and rolled her eyes as she saw the albino peacock. The prisoners were pushed over gravel.

Light spilled out over all of them.

"What is this?" said the cold voice of Narcissa Malfoy who glanced at Hermione, and for a split second she looked terrified.

"We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" rasped Greyback.

"Who are you?"

"You know me!" There was resentment in the werewolf's voice. "Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter and Hermione Black!"

Greyback seized Harry and dragged him around to face the light, forcing the other prisoners to shuffle around too. And then grabbed Hermione's arm, claws digging into her skin, and jerked her towards them. Hermione cursed under her breath.

"I know 'es swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im!" piped up Scabior. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And this 'ere, see the girl? Then, she's Black, who's been traveling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am ."

Hermione saw Narcissa Malfoy scrutinizing Harry's swollen face. Scabior thrust the blackthorn wand at her. She raised her eyebrows.

"Bring them in," she said.

Hermione, Harry, and the others were shoved and kicked up broad stone steps into a hallway lined with portraits.

"Follow me," said Narcissa, leading the way across the hall. "My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know."

The drawing room dazzled after the darkness outside; it was huge. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling and more portraits against the dark purple walls. Lucius and Draco rose from chairs in front of an ornate marble fireplace as the prisoners were forced into the room by the Snatchers.

"What is this?"

The dreadfully familiar, drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy fell on Hermione's ears.

"They say they've got Potter," said Narcissa's cold voice. "Draco, come here."

Hermione did not make a move, she merely looked down making her hair cover her face in order to not draw attention to herself. She saw from the corner of her eye as Greyback forced the prisoners to turn again so as to place Harry directly beneath the chandelier.

"Well, boy?" rasped the werewolf.

"Well, Draco?" Hermione heard Lucius Malfoy. He sounded avid. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

"I can't—I can't be sure," said Draco. He was keeping his distance from Greyback.

"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!"

"Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv—"

"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope Mr. Malfoy?" said Greyback menacingly.

"Of course not, of course not!" said Lucius impatiently. Hermione heard as Lucius Malfoy walked towards Harry and her breath hitched slightly.

"What did you do to him?" Lucius asked Greyback. "How did he get into this state?"

"That wasn't us."

"Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me," said Lucius.

"There's something there," he whispered and Hermione figured he was looking at Harry's forehead. "It could be the scar, stretched tight...."

"Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?"

"I don't know," he said, and Hermione took a peek and saw as he walked away toward the fireplace where his mother stood watching.

"We had better be certain, Lucius," Narcissa called to her husband in her cold, clear voice. "Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord... They say this is his" ¨—she was looking closely at the blackthorn wand— "but it does not resemble Ollivander's description... If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing... Remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"

"What about Black, then?" growled Greyback. Harry was nearly thrown off his feet as the Snatchers forced the prisoners to swivel around again so that the light fell on Hermione instead.

Hermione's head was pulled up, revealing her face in the light of the chandelier as Greyback grabbed her head.

She clenched her jaw and saw both Narcissa and Draco hesitate. Lucius Malfoy didn't. He took a stride her way, his eyes glinting.

"It is her, we have Hermione Black!" he shouted, and then his eyes widened as walked over to face Ron. "But then, that's the Weasley boy! It's them, Potter's friends—Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name—"

"Yeah," said Draco again, his back to the prisoners. "It could be."

The drawing room door opened. A woman spoke, and the sound of the voice made Hermione's blood boil.

"What is this? What's happened, Cissy?"

Bellatrix Lestrange walked slowly around the prisoners, and stopped, staring at Hermione through her heavily lidded eyes, "But surely," she said quietly a grin falling on her face, "Little Miss Black has graced us with her presence."

"I wouldn't quite use grace to define my presence here," Hermione snarled at her.

"Yes, yes, it's Black!" cried Lucius, "And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"

"Potter?" shrieked Bellatrix, and she backed away, to better take in Harry.

"Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once! If it's not him then Cousin Dearest will do!"

She dragged back her left sleeve: Hermione saw the Dark Mark burned into the flesh of her arm, and knew that she was about to touch it, to summon her beloved master—

"I was about to call him!" said Lucius, and his hand actually closed upon Bellatrix's wrist, preventing her from touching the Mark. "I shall summon him, Bella. Potter and Black have been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority—"

"Your authority!" she sneered, attempting to wrench her hand from his grasp. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"

"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy— "

"Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy," interjected Greyback, "but it's us that caught Potter and Black, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold—"

"Gold!" laughed Bellatrix, still attempting to throw off her brother-in-law, her free hand groping in her pocket for her wand. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his—of—"

She stopped struggling, her dark eyes fixed upon something Hermione could not see but knew exactly what it was. She closed her eyes and let her fingers run through her stomach. She was about to get tortured.

Jubilant at her capitulation, Lucius threw Bellatrix's hand from him and ripped up his own sleeve—

"STOP!" shrieked Bellatrix, "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"

Lucius froze, his index finger hovering over his own Mark. Bellatrix strode out of Hermione's limited line of vision.

"What is that?" she heard her say.

"Sword," grunted an out-of-sight Snatcher.

"Give it to me."

"It's not yours, missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it."

There was a bang and a flash of red light; Hermione knew that the Snatcher had been Stunned. There was a roar of anger from his fellows: Scabior drew his wand.

"What d'you think you're playing at, woman?"

"Stupefy!" she screamed, "Stupefy!"

They were no match for her, even though there were four of them against one of her: She was a witch with prodigious skill and no conscience. They fell where they stood, all except Greyback, who had been forced into a kneeling position, his arms outstretched. Out of the corners of her eyes, Hermione saw Bellatrix bearing down upon the werewolf, the sword of Gryffindor gripped tightly in her hand, her face waxen.

"Where did you get this sword?" she whispered to Greyback as she pulled his wand out of his unresisting grip.

"How dare you?" he snarled, his mouth the only thing that could move as he was forced to gaze up at her. He bared his pointed teeth. "Release me, woman!"

"Where did you find this sword?" she repeated, brandishing it in his face, "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

"It was in their tent," rasped Greyback. "Release me, I say!"

She waved her wand, and the werewolf sprang to his feet but appeared too wary to approach her. He prowled behind an armchair, his filthy curved nails clutching its back.

"Draco, move this scum outside," said Bellatrix, indicating the unconscious men. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."

"Don't you dare speak to Draco like—" said Narcissa furiously, but Bellatrix screamed.

"Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!"

She stood, panting slightly, looking down at the sword, examining its hilt. Then she turned to look at the silent prisoners.

"If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed," she muttered, more to herself than to the others. "The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself... But if he finds out... I must... I must know...."

She turned back to her sister again.

"The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!"

"This is my house, Bella, you don't give orders in my—"

"Do it! You have no idea of the danger we're in!" shrieked Bellatrix. She looked frightening, mad; a thin stream of fire issued from her wand and burned a hole in the carpet.

Narcissa hesitated for a moment, then addressed the werewolf.

"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback."

"Wait," said Bellatrix sharply. "All except for Little Miss Black. All He needs is her mind."

Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.

"No!" shouted Ron and Harry at the same time. Each with a different version of, "You can have me, keep me!"

Bellatrix hit Ron across the face: the blow echoed around the room.

"If she becomes useless under questioning, I'll take you next," she said. "Blood traitor is next to Family Blood traitor in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them—"

She threw Greyback's wand back to him, then took a short silver knife from under her robes. She cut Hermione free from the other prisoners, then dragged her by the hair into the middle of the room, while Greyback forced the rest of them to shuffle across to another door.

"Let go of my hair, you bitch!" Hermione snapped as she struggled against Bellatrix.

"It's my pleasure, cousin."

Bellatrix threw her roughly on the ground and without hesitation as if just to put Hermione down she screeched, "Crucio!"

Hermione screamed and wriggled under the excruciating pain of the curse. She felt her bones on fire and needles being pricked everywhere along her body and all Hermione could do was beg in her mind for it to stop, gasping for air as she clutched her stomach.

After a few seconds, Bellatrix stopped the curse and stood over Hermione. A leering smile on her face, though Hermione could see the tension on her face.

"Where did you find the sword?" she asked, sweetly deranged.

Hermione spat at her.

Bellatrix crucio'd her again and this time it took her more than a few seconds to let her go. Hermione could only cry in agony. "Where did you find it?!" she shrieked.

"Where did you find it? The sword only shows itself to Gryffindors," Hermione bit back, keeping her strength out of spite for her relative. Out of the corner of her eyes saw Draco come into the room again, his eyes widening in her direction just as Narcissa gripped tightly to his arms. "Wales!" Hermione screamed as another Crucio washed over her; Draco stiffened as he heard the location of the safe house Hermione had granted him access to. The curse stopped. "It was safe in Wales!"

"Liar!" Bellatrix snarled as she hit Hermione with the curse again.

Hermione's scream tore out of her more painfully this time, as she felt magic being drained off her, and then her hands came to her abdomen again as she shook her head, urging herself to feel... something. Tears nearly fell out of her eyes. Please, no, she begged in her head.

"You're lying, filthy Blood traitor, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"

Hermione screamed as she was yet again hit by the torture curse. She gasped when she felt the pain go away again and tried her best to look defiantly at her deranged cousin. "Bit tiring this whole Cruciatus business, don't you think Bella?"

Bellatrix shrieked. "What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!"

Hermione did her best to laugh and clap her hands—though it looked like she was merely letting them fall against each other silently. Draco looked at her as if she was the mad one. "Good Bella you're learning! That's a good alternative, you got a switch things up, don't want to get your prisoners used to—"

Before Hermione could even finish a scream fell out of her lips as she wriggled on the floor; Bellatrix had lost her patience. Hermione continued to provoke her. "Bella I just told you! You have to switch things up!"

"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"

Hermione's screams echoed through the walls and she could hear Harry and Ron scream for her.

"How did you get into my vault?! Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

"We only met him tonight, you bitch!" Hermione said trying hard not to sob through the pain. "We've never been inside your fucking vault... It must be a copy."

"A copy?" screeched Bellatrix. "Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily!" came Lucius's voice. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

Bellatrix then nearly fell over her and pulled her left arm to the side, dagger in hand. Hermione screamed as she felt it pierce her skin.

"You had so much potential," Bellatrix said maniacally as she carved out Hermione's arms slowly but surely getting every last bit of pain she could out of her. "A Black with foreknowledge nonetheless. Had you been less like your mutt of a father, the Dark Lord could've claimed you as his."

"Voldy can go right ahead and fuck himself—" Hermione gasped as she felt the blade pierce deeper before Bellatrix slapped her.

"How dare you?!" she shrieked. "How dare you insult Him?!"

"How dare you be a hypocrite?" Hermione said and a deranged laugh fell from her lips as she fought through the pain. "You fuckers are following around a Half-Blood and talk of purity?!"

"You look like your mother when you're in pain," Bellatrix said with a cackling laugh as she ignored Hermione's comment, the only sign of acknowledgment being the pressure of the cursed dagger against her skin. Hermione screamed again. "She was screaming too when she died!"

Hermione felt herself stiffen at the words. Hatred fueled her being. "You killed her?"

Bellatrix looked at her with a sickening grin, "I wish I had! Filthy Blood traitor. She had potential too but wasted it on your filthy blood traitor of a father."

Hermione did not scream this time as Bellatrix carved into her skin no matter how much she wanted to. She let her head fall to the side and she saw Annora appearing, paling at the sight before her. She must've been with her dad. They must've been with Sirius, that's why they weren't there to know and warn her dad.

Hermione shook her head at her mother looking pleadingly at her. She couldn't call her dad; if her mom told him, he would come barging into the manor and get himself killed. A nod from her mother and Hermione sighed in relief just as the Goblin was dragged through the room.

Bellatrix roughly grabbed her chin and pulled her face to look at her dark eyes. "I will break you, cousin, and when I do you'll beg for mercy."

Hermione sneered at her. "Likely story," she said sarcastically, her voice raspy from screaming.

Bellatrix roughly threw her head back on the ground and stood up.

Griphook, who was holding Gryffindor's sword in his long-fingered hands, and Bellatrix stood at Hermione's feet. Hermione could barely move a finger. She felt drained of magic. But still, she fanned out her hand that rested on her abdomen, pulling the fabric of her shirt up... she couldn't feel anything. She didn't even feel her own magic.

"Well?" Bellatrix said to Griphook. "Is it the true sword?"

"No," said Griphook. "It is a fake."

"Are you sure?" panted Bellatrix. "Quite sure?"

"Yes," said the goblin.

Relief broke across her face, all tension drained from it.

"Good," she said, and with a casual flick of her wand she slashed another deep cut into the goblin's face, and he dropped with a yell at her feet. She kicked him aside. "And now," she said in a voice that burst with triumph, "we call the Dark Lord!"

And she pushed back her sleeve and touched her forefinger to the Dark Mark.

"And I think," said Bellatrix looking down at Hermione with bared teeth, "when the Dark Lord is finished with you, he'll surely hand you over to Greyback!"

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Ron had burst into the drawing-room; Bellatrix looked around, shocked; she turned her wand to face Ron instead.

"Expelliarmus!" he roared, pointing Wormtail's wand at Bellatrix, and hers flew into the air and was caught by Harry, who had sprinted after Ron. Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, and Greyback wheeled about; Harry yelled, "Stupefy!" and Lucius Malfoy collapsed onto the hearth. Jets of light flew from Draco's, Narcissa's, and Greyback's wands; Harry threw himself to the floor, rolling behind a sofa to avoid them.

At that moment Hermione's hair was yanked by Bellatrix and she pulled her into a sitting position, as she held the dagger to her throat.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

Panting, Harry peered around the edge of the sofa. Ron froze where he stood.

"Drop your wands," she whispered. "Drop them, or we'll see her bleed to death at my feet. Killing Hermione Black is as good a replacement as killing Sirius Black."

"You can't kill me!" Hermione gasped, "You already called Tommy! He needs me alive."

"If he has Potter then you won't make a difference."

Ron stood rigid, clutching Wormtail's wand. Harry straightened up, still holding Bellatrix's.

"I said, drop them!" she screeched, pressing the blade into Hermione's throat: Hermione felt beads of blood run down her neck.

"All right!" Harry shouted, and he dropped Bellatrix's wand onto the floor at his feet, Ron did the same with Wormtail's. Both raised their hands to shoulder height. Hermione was too weak to roll her eyes.

"Good!" she leered. "Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"

"Now," said Bellatrix softly, as Draco hurried back to her with the wands. "Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes a first sniff of Little Miss Black. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."

At the last word, there was a peculiar grinding noise from above. All of them looked upward in time to see the crystal chandelier tremble; then, with a creak and an ominous jingling, it began to fall. Bellatrix was directly beneath it; dropping Hermione, she threw herself aside with a scream. The chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and chains, falling on top of Hermione and the goblin, who still clutched the sword of Gryffindor. Glittering shards of crystal flew in all directions; Draco doubled over, his hands covering his bloody face.

As Ron ran to pull Hermione out of the wreckage, Harry took the chance: He leaped over an armchair and wrested the three wands from Draco's grip, pointed all of them at Greyback, and yelled, "Stupefy!" The werewolf was lifted off his feet by the triple spell, flew up to the ceiling, and then smashed to the ground.

As Narcissa dragged Draco out of the way of further harm, Bellatrix sprang to her feet, her hair flying as she brandished the silver knife; but Narcissa had directed her wand at the doorway.

"Dobby!" she screamed and even Bellatrix froze. "You! You dropped the chandelier—?"

The tiny elf trotted into the room, his shaking finger pointing at his old mistress. Hermione smiled as she let her head fall on Ron's shoulder.

"You must not hurt Harry Potter," he squeaked.

"Kill him, Cissy!" shrieked Bellatrix, but there was another loud crack, and Narcissa's wand too flew into the air and landed on the other side of the room.

"You dirty little monkey!" bawled Bellatrix. "How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master!" squealed the elf. "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

"Ron, catch—and GO!" Harry yelled, throwing one of the wands to Ron; then he bent down to tug Griphook out from under the chandelier. Hoisting the groaning goblin, who still clung to the sword, over one shoulder, Harry seized Dobby's hand as Ron seized his other, and spun on the spot to Disapparate.

Before they disapparated though, Hermione used the final bit of magic she could muster and flicked her wrist as the blue flying silver of Bellatrix's dagger flew across the room and turned to the other side.

With that Hermione let the darkness take over as they disapparated.

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