You take that back, I am anything but dramatic!

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I've lost track of how many endless days I've been trapped here now. The grounds outside are blanketed in snow, the only indication of time's passage in this windowless room. I'm listlessly reading a novel Draco brought when he suddenly bursts through the door, breathing hard.

"Potter's here."

I shoot to my feet, book tumbling forgotten. "What? How?"

"Snatchers caught him, Granger, and Weasley," Draco explains hastily. "They haven't been recognized yet. But you need to escape with them when you can. I've sent word to your father."

Hope and fear war within me. "What's the plan?"

"Come down for water in ten minutes. I'll create a distraction for you all to get out." Draco clasps my shoulder. "This is it, little cousin. Stay brave."

I nod, new resolve steeling my spine. This nightmare is nearly over.

Ten agonizing minutes later, I creep downstairs, breath held. Murmured voices reach me - Aunt Bella's chillingly gleeful, Uncle Lucius' doubtful, others anxious and greedy. I strain to hear Harry's familiar cadence but only catch indistinct words.

Rounding the corner, I find the Bellatrix standing there with her wand on Hermione's throat. Dread curdles my gut. We're out of time.

I catch Draco's eye where he hovers tensely. He gives an almost imperceptible nod. Heart lodged in my throat, I raise my voice to carry, "Auntie, I'm parched. May I have some water?"

Distracted, Bellatrix glances at me in irritation before flicking her wand carelessly to summon an elf. I hold my breath, praying she'll take the bait.

After a too-long pause, she turns back to Harry dismissively. "Call him, Draco." 

"Well, boy?" Lucius demands sharply when Draco hesitates. I meet his eyes, communicating silently. Do it now.

With a burst of force, Draco shoves me hard into the Bellatrix, sending bodies crashing like dominos. I grab Hermione's hand and run to where Harry stands with Ron, Luna, and Mr. Ollivander. Chaos erupts. Harry snatches stolen wands off the floor, firing hexes towards our attackers. I grab Hermione's arm, lunging for the stairwell. We nearly make it before Aunt Bella's screech halts us.

"STOP THEM!"

The front door creaks open, backlit figure coming into focus through my tear-blurred eyes. My breath catches...but it's not Charlie stepping out, it's Dad.

I run into his open arms and cling fiercely. Dad checks me anxiously for injuries, regret etched on his face. "I'm so sorry, little moon," he whispers.

"I'm okay, Dad, really," I assure him. Having his solid presence here is balm enough for now.

Mum rushes out next, crushing me in a desperate embrace like she's afraid I'll vanish. I let her hold and fuss over me, knowing she needs this reassurance.

When she finally releases me, I glance around hopefully for another familiar face. But Bill, Fleur, and Mum are the only ones here. My heart sinks even as I scold myself to be grateful for those who did come.

Still, I can't help asking Mum in a whisper, "Where's Charlie?"

Her eyes soften knowingly and she squeezes my hand. "He's away on Order business, love. But he'll be back before long, I'm sure."

I nod, trying not to let my disappointment show.

Later in the evening, I curl up on the lumpy couch with my worn copy of Twisted Games, losing myself in the familiar pages. Upstairs, I can hear the muffled voices of Harry, Ron and Hermione speaking with Mr. Ollivander. But I let their conversation fade into background noise as I immerse into Bridget and Rhys' tragic world.

Lyra || Charlie Weasley ||Where stories live. Discover now