𝐑𝐄𝐖𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐑𝐒-ℍ𝕒𝕣𝕣𝕪 ℙ𝕠𝕥𝕥𝕖𝕣❥

𝐎𝐎𝐓𝐏 𝟑𝟑

Harry's mind was racing. The Death Eaters wanted this dusty spun-glass sphere. He had no interest in it. He just wanted to get them all out of this alive, make sure that none of his friends paid a terrible price for his stupidity and that Emily got home safe to her fathers.

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.

"You need more persuasion?" she said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Very well- give me my niece," she ordered the Death Eaters beside her. "Let him watch while we torture this girl. I'll do it."

All of the others moved forward slightly, Harry could hear shuffling in the distance and a cry. Hermione and Ginny let out a gasp as they saw Emily thrown over to Bellatrix, blood trickling done her face that mixed in with the tears.

Harry couldn't take his eyes of Emily, her face held a look of horror and shock whilst her body shook slightly, her hands trembling at her sides. Harry kept his eyes on her, the prophecy held up to his chest. "You hurt her, and I'll smash it into pieces," he told Bellatrix. "I don't think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?"

She did not move; she merely stared at him, the tip of her tongue moistening her thin mouth, her hand clasped around Emily's neck.

"So," said Harry, "what kind of prophecy are we talking about anyway?"

He could not think what to do but to keep talking. Tears still falling from Emily's eyes, he could feel one of the other's quickened breath on the back of his head. He was hoping they were all thinking hard about ways to get out of this, because his mind was blank.

"What kind of prophecy?" repeated Bellatrix, the grin fading from her face. "You jest, Harry Potter."

"Nope, not jesting," said Harry, his eyes flicking from Death Eater to Death Eater, looking for a weak link, a space through which they could escape and grab Emily. "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-"

"Shut your mouth!" Bellatrix shrieked. "You dare speak his name with your unworthy lips, you dare besmirch it with your half-blood's tongue, you dare-"

"Did you know he's a half-blood too?" said Harry recklessly. Hermione gave a little moan in his ear and Emily closed her eyes, wishing it could all just end. "Voldemort? Yeah, his mother was a witch but his dad was a Muggle - or has he been telling you lot he's pureblood?"

"STUPEF - "
"NO ! "
A jet of red light had shot from the end of Bellatrix Lestrange's wand, but Malfoy had deflected it. His spell caused hers to hit the shelf a foot to the left of Harry and several of the glass orbs there shattered.

Two figures, pearly white as ghosts, fluid as smoke, unfurled themselves from the fragments of broken glass upon the floor and each began to speak.

Their voices vied with each other, so that only fragments of what they were saying could be heard over Malfoy and Bellatrix's shouts.

". . . at the Solstice will come a new . . ." said the figure of an old, bearded man.
"DO NOT ATTACK! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!"
"He dared — he dares —" shrieked Bellatrix incoherently. "— He stands there — filthy half-blood —"
"WAIT UNTIL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!" bawled Malfoy. ". . . and none will come after . . ." said the figure of a young woman.