Courage

-78-

"You need more persuasion?" she said, her chest rising and falling rapidly. "Very well — take the smallest one," she ordered the Death Eaters beside her. "Let him watch while we torture the little girl. I'll do it."

Layla felt the others close in around Ginny; she stepped sideways so that he was right in front of her, and raised her wand.

"You stay the hell away from my sister, the lot of you!" she yelled, putting emphasis on the word 'sister' as her protective instincts kicked in.

"Ooh, aren't you a fiery little thing?" said Bellatrix, a wide grin taking form on her face. "I can take you, little girl."

"You'll have to smash this if you want to attack any of us," Harry spoke up. "I don't think your boss will be too pleased if you come back without it, will he?"

Bellatrix did not move after that.

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

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

"Nope, not jesting," said Harry. "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. "Yeah, I've got no problem with 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—"

"He's a half-blood too," said Layla in a 'duh' tone. There were only a few things she was truly scared of, and a bunch of wizards in cloaks, following a bald, nose-less man aren't one of those things. "From what I've read, his mother was a witch but his dad was a Muggle — or has he been telling you lot he's pure-blood?"

"STUPEF—"

"Protego!" yelled Harry, quickly jumping in front of Layla. "Hurt her and I'll smash this thing!"

"DO NOT ATTACK ANY OF THEM! WE NEED THE PROPHECY!" screeched Malfoy.

"She dared — she dares—" shrieked Bellatrix incoherently, "she stands there — filthy half-blood—"

"WAIT UN'I'LL WE'VE GOT THE PROPHECY!" bawled Malfoy.

"You haven't told me what's so special about this prophecy I'm supposed to be handing over," he said.

"Do not play games with us, Potter," said Malfoy.

"I'm not playing games,' said Harry. Layla then felt a quick pain on her foot, causing her to inhale sharply. She saw that Harry, who was still stood protectively in front of her, and dug his heel into her toes.

"What do you want? This isn't the time, dude," she whispered to him quietly, annoyed.

"Dumbledore never told you the reason you bear that scar was hidden in the bowels of the Department of Mysteries?" Malfoy sneered.

"I — what?' said Harry. "What about my scar?"

"Answer me, Potter. What do you want?" whispered Layla more urgently.

"Can this be?" said Malfoy, sounding maliciously delighted; some of the Death Eaters were laughing again, and under cover of their laughter, Harry hissed to Hermione, moving his lips as little as possible, "Smash shelves—"

"Dumbledore never told you?" Malfoy repeated. "Well, this explains why you didn't come earlier, Potter, the Dark Lord wondered why—"

"—when I say now—"