𝐄𝐃𝐄𝐋𝐘𝐍 ⦊ 𝘩. 𝘱𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 ✓ {editing}

― 17 | PROTEGO

Her shoulders slumped forward as Luna nodded. "Yeah, she did, but it didn't work. Mr Ollivander says that there's probably an enchantment on the cellar to prevent Kreacher from hearing her call."

"Oh, for god's sake!" Hermione huffed, throwing her hands up into the air in frustration. "But there must be something!" 

Ron's eyes widened. "There is," he exhaled, and he spun on his heels to face Harry. "The mirror. Harry, get the mirror." 

"Huh?"

"The two-way mirror Sirius gave you," Ron said, and as Harry seized Hagrid's pouch from around his neck and groped inside it, he explained, "Lyn never brought it with her when we left. She was worried about what would happen if it got confiscated, so she gave it to Kreacher for safekeeping."

Fingers finally wrapping around the cool glass surface, he pulled it out, but with shaky hands, it slipped past his fingers and fell to the ground, shattering into pieces. Cursing a few of Uncle Vernon's choice swear words, he crouched down and picked up the larger of the shards, hissing as a sharp edge cut into his skin. Please, please, please still work, he prayed as he stared into his own reflection. 

"Kreacher?" 

Nothing happened.

He swallowed thickly and tried again. "Kreacher?" 

Meanwhile, upstairs in the drawing room, Griphook furrowed his eyebrows in deep thought as he held the sword of Gryffindor in his long-fingered hands.

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

Griphook contemplated for a moment, but before he could respond, a loud CRACK echoed from below. 

"What was that?" Lucius asked. "What was that noise from the cellar?"

"Draco, go—" Bellatrix began, but Narcissa cut her off, hand tightening around her son's shoulder. "No. Make Wormtail go and check." 

"Fine." Impatience rang in Bellatrix's voice. "Draco, grab the girl. Wormtail, go downstairs." 

Edelyn felt the tension in her body dissipate slightly as much softer hands reached out to hold hers against her back. 

"You—" Bellatrix turned her attention back to the goblin. "Speak."

"It..." Griphook paused. "It is a fake." 

"Are you sure? Quite sure?" 

He nodded. "Yes."

Relief broke across Bellatrix's face. "Good," she said, then with a flick of her wand, she slashed a deep cut into Griphook's face; Edelyn flinched as the goblin dropped with a yell at the witch's feet. 

"And now," Bellatrix spoke in a voice that burst with triumph, "we call the Dark Lord."

A sharp breath nipped at Edelyn's neck and she could feel Draco stiffen from behind her; she imagined from behind her blindfold Bellatrix pushing back her sleeve and touching her forefinger to the Dark Mark.

"Your boyfriend Potty's in for it now," Bellatrix spoke, and Edelyn clenched her hands into fists, a burning sensation now plaguing her lungs from the relentless pounding of her heart in her chest. "And now that we've got him where we want, there's not much use left for you, is there?" She brushed her wand tip against the bite mark on Edelyn's neck and leered, "Perhaps Greyback could finish what he start—"