Harry and Amelia Potter

7.21

"Check the list." He tells one of the other Snatchers. "And you, ginger?"

"Stan Shunpike." Ron coughs out.

"Like 'ell you are. We know skinny Stan. Try again." Greyback, his boot to Ron's neck, presses harder.

"Weasley..." then he makes up a first name. "Barney Weasley."

"Weasley, eh? Wouldn't be related to that blood traitor Arthur Weasley, would you?"

"Piss off!" He coughs. I can't help my anger as it boils in my veins.

"Arthur Weasley's ten times the wizard you are!" I shout. The wizard holding me back tightens his grip and points his wand to my neck.

"Worth ten times you if I can find him. Wasn't you that tipped him off, was it?" I stay mute. Scabior turns to Hermione.

"How 'bout you, lovely? What do they call you...?"

"Penelope Clearwater. Half-blood." Scabior strokes the nape of Hermione's neck, then takes her hair in hand, sniffs it.

"You smell like vanilla, Penelope. I think you're going to be my favorite." Scabior admires Hermiones beauty.

"There's no Vernon Dudley on 'ere." One of the Snatchers says. Reluctantly, Scabior turns from Hermione to Harry.

"Hear that, ugly? The list says you're lying. How come you don't want us to know who you are? Hm?" Greyback questions my brother.

"The list is wrong. I told you who I am-" Scabior puts a finger to his lips, silencing wand probing Harry's face more closely. Eyeing his features, then glances over at me.

"Change of plans, boys. We won't be taking this lot to the Ministry."

I don't want to know what he has planned for my friends and I.

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Scabior and the others escort Harry, Ron, Hermione, and I past the yew hedges. I eye the white peacock, looking like a ghostly lawn ornament.

"What did Hermione put on us?" Harry whispers to me.

"A Stinging Jinx." I whisper back.

"How long will it last?"

"Not long."

Harry glances down, sees his glasses cupped in Hermione's palm. As he slips them into his pocket, the group suddenly slows. Up ahead, on the other side of the gate, Bellatrix, Lucius, and Narcissa approach.

Scabior grabs Harry and I's arms, pushing our faces up to the iron bars. Bellatrix steps close.

"Show me." She tells him.

Scabior reaches out and pushes our hair off our foreheads.

Bellatrix points her wand, illuminating our skin. Slowly, she smiles.

Despite the swelling, one intriguing feature can be seen. Our scars, in the shape of a lightening bolt.

As Bellatrix leads the procession inside, she speaks to Narcissa. "Get Draco."

Narcissa eyes her sister briefly, warily, then strides off, toward the brightly-lit room ahead, where her husband Lucius stands, cradling a nearly-empty wine glass.

"Why Draco?" Lucius asks. Narcissa passes her husband without a word.

"Just sit back and watch, Lucius. Hm? Pour yourself another glass of wine." As Bellatrix passes, she flicks her finger off the rim of his glass. She turns, eyeing the four of us. "Where'd you find them?"

"In the North Forest." Scabior tells her.

Wormtail quietly enters the room. As Harry and I eye him, Bellatrix pauses, studying our scars again.

"Lovely scarf, Scabior. Though I'm not sure it's your color." Bellatrix smirks.

"It's not mine."

"You don't say." Her eyes slide, catch him looking at Hermione.

"Fancy her, do you, Scabior? Can't say I blame you. Maybe we'll work out a little reward for you, hm? That is, assuming all is as it appears. Ah, Draco. Come here, darling." From the shadows at the far end of the room Draco separates from Narcissa, steps cautiously forward. "My friends here say they've got Harry and Amelia Potter. Seeing as they're old school chums of yours, I thought you could confirm the fact for us." Draco stares at Harry and I. "Well...?"

"I can't... I can't be sure." Draco says, glancing at Harry, his gaze then landing on me.

Lucius steps forward, wine glass sloshing. "Look close, Draco. If we're the ones who hand the Potters over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiven. Do you understand..."

"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught them, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" Scabior says menacingly.

"Of course not." Bellatrix's eyes hardening. "Narcissa. Tend to your husband." Lucius staggers back nervously next to his wife and she leans into Dracos ear. "Don't be shy, sweetheart. Get up nice and close."

Bellatrix nudges Draco forward until he's only inches from my brother and I.

"What's wrong with their faces?" He asks.

"What is wrong with their faces, Scabior?" Bellatrix repeats the question.

"They came to us that way. I reckon they'd picked it up in the forest."

"Or ran into a Stinging Jinx." Bellatrix, eyes flashing, steps up close to Hermione. "Was it you, dearie? Give me her wand. We'll see what the last spell was." Hermione looks alarmed as a Snatcher steps forward.

"What is that?" Bellatrix's tone is quietly murderous. She pushes past Scabior and Greyback, steps before another Snatcher. Hermione's beaded purse dangles from one hand. In the other, he holds the Sword of Gryffindor. "Where did you get that?!"

"It was in her bag when we searched her. Reckon it's mine now." He smirks.

Then quick as lightning, Bellatrix stuns the Snatcher and catches the sword as he drops. Scabior wheels.

"Are you mad!" Scabior shouts. Bellatrix drops him to his knees before his wand escapes his cloak. He bellows in fury. "How dare you! Release me, woman!"

Bellatrix stares at him, eyes full of fire, then flicks her wand and he slumps forward, wincing. "Go. Go!"

Scabior eyes her resentfully, then exits with Greyback and the others. Bellatrix turns.

"Wormtail. Put these three in the cellar. I want to have a little conversation with this one. Girl to girl."

As Wormtail jerks them away, Ron's eyes flash with panic, meeting Hermione's. She mouths: "It's okay."

Wormtail prods Harry, Ron, and I down a steep flight of stairs and slams the door. Ron throws himself against it, turns to Harry and I.

"Harry! Mia! What're we going to do? We can't just leave Hermione alone with her!"

"Ron? Mia? Harry...?" A sweet voice questions.

I peer into the small, shadowy space below, senses movement. "Luna...?"