The Potter Twins and the Deathly Hallows {7}

26. Wait For Me

Father pales at the mention of his name and scurries forward slightly, his stature reminding me horribly of Wormtail. "H-He escaped, my lord," Father says quietly, barely able to get the words out at all.

"Escaped?" the Dark Lord repeats in a humiliating imitation of Father's fear. "Well, that just won't do, will it, Haylee? To have one Potter Twin without the other..."

Haylee glares back at him unwaveringly, though I can tell by the way her shoulder shake with each inhale and exhale that she's terrified, and her scar is still causing her immense pain. And yet, despite her fear, there is an unsettling sense of familiarity between her and the Dark Lord which sends chills down my spine; it's not just that they know each other, it's as if they understand each other without having to speak a single word.

"One is better than nothing, my l-lord," Father stutters, not daring to look up from the marble floor.

"The war could have ended here tonight if it weren't for your blunders!" the Dark Lord snaps, gazing around the room with a bloodthirsty stare which I can't help but flinch underneath. "But one is better than nothing, yes," he adds mockingly, his eyes lingering on me, "and watching your son squirm when I kill her almost seems punishment enough."

And with another malicious laugh, he crosses the floor, so he's standing directly in front of Haylee, pressing the tip of his wand into her ribs.

"Haylee Potter," he says slowly as if this is the last time her name will grace his lips, "the first time I tried to kill you, you were only an infant. I felt no remorse then, and I feel none now." His eyes travel upwards to her scar. "And this time, Lily and James Potter are not here to save you." And he presses a single finger to her scar, holding it in place until she finally relinquishes a pained and terrified sob. He laughs softly and says, "Avada --!"

I squeeze my eyes shut, my insides freezing over as I await the killing blow which will kill me as surely as it does her.

"My lord, please!" Mother cries out from beside me; I open my eyes, my heart racing so erratically I fear it might kill me. The Dark Lord has turned to face us, Haylee's confused and terrified expression behind him mirroring my own.

"Narcissa?" he says warningly.

She swallows and plasters an evil sort of smirk onto her face. "Apologies for my brashness, my lord, but have you not considered the girl's prophecy?"

"What of it?" he questions harshly. "Draco tried and failed to convert her, and so she will die by my hand."

"I know, my lord," Mother continues, her voice quivering ever so slightly. "My only fear is that killing Potter prematurely, while her brother is still free, might spell your doom. Would it not be smarter to keep her alive and try to convert her? And if she is truly set on her loyalty to Dumbledore, then we can use her to lure the boy back to us."

A gasp escapes Haylee's mouth, but I seem to be the only one who hears it. I know exactly what she's thinking; she'd rather die here and now if it meant Harry would be safer.

While He remains silent, deep in contemplation, Bellatrix gives another wicked laugh. "You always were a pacifist, Cissy," she says, her signature smirk returning to her lips as she positions herself on the Dark Lord's right side. "The Potter bitch is finally in our grasp, and there's no one here to save her! We'd be fools not to kill her now and be done with it -- my lord, her brother would be so devastated he might do the job for us and kill himself --!"

"No!" the Dark Lord snaps, and Bellatrix cowers. "Narcissa is right."

I feel Mother's shoulders relax, and she lets out a breath I didn't realise she was holding. The Dark Lord walks in a slow circle around Haylee, surveying her like a professional Quidditch player would survey their new broom.