Christmas came and went. I was still slipping information to the Order, but I was now able to do so less and less due to my presence being requested by Voldemort for patrolling the ministry. Voldemort was much more secretive than the order and I had ever thought or anticipated, because even the Death Eaters had no idea about most of his plans until they were finally included in them.
Snape was suspicious of me, but having a soft spot for Draco, and I thought seeing him spend most of his time clung to my side made him keep his mouth shut.
I continued to visit Fred every chance I got, even if only for a few minutes. Sometimes I would even get the opportunity to give George a hug.
Luna Lovegood was imprisoned at the Manor because of her fathers political dissidence. Shortly after her Dean Thomas and a goblin named Griphook were also captured and put into the dungeons. This was bad because my food rations had to be cut a considerable amount to ensure that the amount of food I took was not suspicious. Fred clearly noticed, because every time I snuck over to him he would force feed me as much food as humanly possible.
February Thirteenth, Luna's birthday. I remembered because her father used to send her obnoxious singing birthday cards, that could be heard from the Slytherin table. I stuffed a cookie into a small bag, alongside a necklace I plucked out of my jewelry box. I haven't been wearing necklaces because I still had my ring on a chain discretely tucked away under my shirt, which happened to be my only sense of true comfort while staying at the manor.
I carefully crept downstairs and into the basement dungeons under my invisibility cloak. To my greatest relief, I did not see any Death Eaters lurking around the halls while making my way down the narrow corridor to the dungeons.
Lumos
I whispered, a bright light illuminating the dark and musky dungeon. I could see Luna curled up in a corner, and humming to herself.
Happy birthday to you...
It was barely audible, but it still fell on my ears like a deafening crash. My heart ached for the poor girl, celebrating the start of her adulthood in a dungeon.
"Happy birthday Luna." I said, as she turned around to face me.
In the darkness I could see tear stains lining her usually plump cheeks, which were now sunken in, the light blush she usually carried now completely gone.
I stretched out the small baggie with her cookie and necklace.
"It isn't much, but I reckoned it's better than nothing." I tried my hardest to let out a warm smile.
Luna too began to break into a smile. She slowly stood up and walked over to me, pulling me into a tight hug.
"Thank you Y/n." She mumbled into my shirt.
"You'll get out of here. I promise." I said softly, gently stroking her matted and unkempt hair.
We stood there for a moment, and I could feel Dean and Ollivander's eyes on us. Griphook was fast asleep, his snores echoing through the chambers.
"I need to go now, I hope you like your present." I said, as Luna finally took the gift.
She nodded a thank you, and I threw on my cloak, going upstairs.
~~~~
I heard a commotion outside , and to my horror I discovered Harry, Ron, and Hermione dragged in by Fenrir Greyback, who had been allowed Death Eater robes in exchange for the violence and brute strength he provided, and Scabior, a low level snatcher. Harry's face was badly swollen and bruised, making him barely recognisable. Next to them stood Narcissa, an unreadable expression on her face.
"I know 'e's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im!" Piped up Scabior. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And this 'ere, see the girl? The Mudblood who's been traveling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am -"
Narcissa bent down and squinted at Harry's distorted face.
"Bring them in," she said.
Harry and the others were shoved and kicked up broad stone steps into a hallway lined with portraits.
"Follow me," said Narcissa, leading the way across the hall. "My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know, and Y/n here happened to be a member of the order before joining, so we can get two expert opinions."
The drawing room dazzled after the darkness outside; if it had not been for the circumstances, I would think I'd have felt at ease. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, more portraits against the dark purple walls. Two figures rose from chairs in front of an ornate marble fireplace as the prisoners were forced into the room by the Snatchers.
"What's this?" Drawled Lucius, and Draco looked panicked next to him.
"They say they've got Potter," said Narcissa's cold voice. "Draco, come here."
Greyback forced the prisoners to turn again so as to place Harry directly beneath the chandelier.
"Cheshire?" Greyback rasped.
"I really can't be sure, but I don't think that's him." I said, knowing that this conversation could get me killed, and praying Draco would lie as well.
"Well, Draco?" said Lucius Malfoy. He sounded avid. "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"
"I can't - I can't be sure," said Draco, shooting me a frightened glance. He was keeping his distance from Greyback, and seemed as scared of looking at Harry as Harry was of looking at him.
"But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!"
Harry had never heard Lucius Malfoy so excited.
"Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv -"
"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" said Greyback menacingly.
"Of course not, of course not!" said Lucius impatiently, approaching Harry to examine him himself.
"What did you do to him?" Lucius asked Greyback. "How did he get into this state?"
"That wasn't us."
"Looks more like a Stinging Jinx to me," said Lucius.
His gray eyes raked Harry's forehead.
"There's something there," he whispered, "it could be the scar, stretched tight. . . . Draco, Y/n, come here, look properly! What do you think?"
Draco's expression was full of reluctance, even fear.
"I don't know," he said, and he walked away toward the fireplace where his mother stood watching.
"We really can't be sure of who this boy is." I shrugged.
"We had better be certain, Lucius," Narcissa called to her husband in her cold, clear voice. "Completely sure that it is Potter, before we summon the Dark Lord . . . They say this is his" - she was looking closely at the blackthorn wand - "but it does not resemble Ollivander's description. . . . If we are mistaken, if we call the Dark Lord here for nothing . . . Remember what he did to Rowle and Dolohov?"
"What about the Mudblood, then?" growled Greyback. Harry was nearly thrown off his feet as the Snatchers forced the prisoners to swivel around again, so that the light fell on Hermione instead.
"Wait," said Narcissa sharply. "Yes - yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?"
"I . . . maybe . . . yeah."
"But then, that's the Weasley boy!" shouted Lucius, striding around the bound prisoners to face Ron. "It's them, Potter's friends - Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name - ?"
"Yeah," said Draco again, his back to the prisoners. "It could be."
"Cheshire it's them, is it not?" Narcissa turned to stare daggers at me.
"I think- I mean- maybe." I stuttered.
Suddenly the drawing room door opened.
"What is this? What's happened, Cissy?" Bellatrix jeered.
"But surely," she said quietly, "this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"
"Yes, yes, it's Granger!" cried Lucius. "And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"
"Potter?" shrieked Bellatrix, and she backed away, the better to take in Harry. "Are you sure? Well then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!"
She dragged back her left sleeve: I saw the Dark Mark burned into the flesh of her arm, and knew that she was about to touch it, to summon her beloved master -
"I was about to call him!" said Lucius, and his hand actually closed upon Bellatrix's wrist, preventing her from touching the Mark. "I shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority -"
"Your authority!" she sneered, attempting to wrench her hand from his grasp. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius! How dare you! Take your hands off me!"
"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy -"
"Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy," interjected Greyback, "but it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold -"
"Gold!" laughed Bellatrix, still attempting to throw off her brother-in-law, her free hand groping in her pocket for her wand. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his - of -"
She stopped struggling, her dark eyes fixed upon something to the side of her. Jubilant at her capitulation, Lucius threw her hand from him and ripped up his own sleeve -
"STOP!" shrieked Bellatrix. "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"
Lucius froze, his index finger hovering over his own Mark. Bellatrix strode out of Harry's limited line of vision.
"What is that?" he heard her say.
"Sword," grunted a Snatcher.
"Give it to me."
"It's not yorn, missus, it's mine, I reckon I found it."
There was a bang and a flash of red light: the Snatcher had been stunned. There was a roar of anger from his fellows: Scabior drew his wand.
"What d'you think you're playing at, woman?"
"Stupefy!" she screamed. "Stupefy!"
They were no match for her, even though there were four of them against one of her: She was a witch, as I had learned, with prodigious skill and no conscience. They fell where they stood, all except Greyback, who had been forced into a kneeling position, his arms outstretched. Bellatrix was now bearing down upon the werewolf, the sword of Gryffindor gripped tightly in her hand, her face waxen.
"Where did you get this sword?" she whispered to Greyback as she pulled his wand out of his unresisting grip.
"How dare you?" he snarled, his mouth the only thing that could move as he was forced to gaze up at her. He bared his pointed teeth. "Release me, woman!"
"Where did you find this sword?" she repeated, brandishing it in his face. "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"
"It was in their tent," rasped Greyback. "Release me, I say!"
She waved her wand, and the werewolf sprang to his feet, but appeared too wary to approach her. He prowled behind an armchair, his filthy curved nails clutching its back.
"Draco, move this scum outside," said Bellatrix, indicating the unconscious men. "If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."
"Don't you dare speak to Draco like -" said Narcissa furiously, but Bellatrix screamed,
"Be quiet! The situation is graver than you can possibly imagine, Cissy! We have a very serious problem!"
She stood, panting slightly, looking down at the sword, examining its hilt. Then she turned to look at the silent prisoners.
"If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed," she muttered, more to herself than to the others. "The Dark Lord wishes to dispose of Potter himself. . . . But if he finds out . . . I must . . . I must know. . . ."
She turned back to her sister again.
"The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think what to do!"
"This is my house, Bella, you don't give orders in my -"
"Do it! You have no idea of the danger we are in!" shrieked Bellatrix. She looked frightening, mad; a thin stream of fire issued from her wand and burned a hole in the carpet.
Narcissa hesitated for a moment, then addressed the werewolf.
"Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback."
"Wait," said Bellatrix sharply. "All except . . . except for the Mudblood."
Greyback gave a grunt of pleasure.
"No!" shouted Ron. "You can have me, keep me!"
Bellatrix hit him across the face; the blow echoed around the room.
"If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next," she said. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them - yet."
She threw Greyback's wand back to him, then took a short silver knife from under her robes. She cut Hermione free from the other prisoners, then dragged her by the hair into the middle of the room, while Greyback forced the rest of them to shuffle across to another door, into a dark passageway.
I remained standing with Narcissa in the Drawing Room. She looked at me with a curious expression, and followed out of the room after Bellatrix.
I couldn't go down to the dungeons, lest I had no other choice other than death.
A terrible scream echoed out from the room Bellatrix was now in.
"You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"
Another terrible scream -
All the while Ron was screaming for Hermiones name.
"What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"
Hermione's screams echoed off the walls, and pierced my soul. I couldn't just stand there, and so I ran down to the dungeons.
"How did you get into my vault?" they heard Bellatrix scream. "Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"
"We only met him tonight!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault. . . . It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"
"A copy?" screeched Bellatrix. "Oh, a likely story!"
"But we can find out easily!" came Lucius's voice. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"
I quickly ran back into the drawing room before they could spot me missing.
Draco rushed past me, his face paler than I thought imaginable.
I took the opportunity and followed him down, into the unusually dark dungeons.
"Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!" Draco's voice shook as he unlocked the door.
He seized the little goblin by the arm and backed out again, dragging Griphook with him. The door slammed shut and at the same moment a loud crack echoed inside the cellar.
I heard a click and saw the lights turn back on, revealing Dobby the house-elf, who had just Apparated into their midst.
"DOB - !"
Harry hit Ron on the arm to stop him shouting, and Ron looked terrified at his mistake. Footsteps crossed the ceiling overhead: Draco marching Griphook to Bellatrix.
Dobby's enormous, tennis-ball-shaped eyes were wide; he was trembling from his feet to the tips of his ears. He was back in the home of his old masters, and it was clear that he was petrified.
"Harry Potter," he squeaked in the tiniest quiver of a voice, "Dobby has come to rescue you."
"But how did you - ?"
An awful scream drowned Harry's words: Hermione was being tortured again. He cut to the essentials.
"You can Disapparate out of this cellar?" he asked Dobby, who nodded, his ears flapping.
"And you can take humans with you?"
Dobby nodded again.
"Right. Dobby, I want you to grab Luna, Dean, and Mr. Ollivander, and take them - take them to -"
"Bill and Fleur's," said Ron. "Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth!"
The elf nodded for a third time.
"And then come back," said Harry. "Can you do that, Dobby?"
"Of course, Harry Potter," whispered the little elf. He hurried over to Mr. Ollivander, who appeared to be barely conscious. He took one of the wandmaker's hands in his own, then held out the other to Luna and Dean, neither of whom moved.
"Harry, we want to help you!" Luna whispered.
"We can't leave you here," said Dean.
"Go, both of you! We'll see you at Bill and Fleur's."
I stood there, relieved they had a way out.
"Go!" Harry beseeched Luna and Dean. "Go! We'll follow, just go!"
They caught hold of the elf's outstretched fingers. There was another loud crack, and Dobby, Luna, Dean, and Ollivander vanished.
"What was that?" shouted Lucius Malfoy from over their heads. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"
"I'm sorry I couldn't help you." I whispered.
"Trying to cover for us was enough." Harry nodded at me.
"Draco - no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"
Footsteps crossed the room overhead, then there was silence. I knew that the people in the drawing room were listening for more noises from the cellar.
"We're going to have to try and tackle him," he whispered to Ron. They had no choice: The moment anyone entered the room and saw the absence of three prisoners, they were lost. "Leave the lights on," Harry added, and as they heard someone descending the steps outside the door, they backed against the wall on either side of it.
"Stand back," came Wormtail's voice. "Stand away from the door. I am coming in."
The door flew open. For a split second Wormtail gazed into the apparently empty cellar, ablaze with light from the three miniature suns floating in midair. Then Harry and Ron launched themselves upon him. Ron seized Wormtail's wand arm and forced it upward; Harry slapped a hand to his mouth, muffling his voice. Silently they struggled: Wormtail's wand emitted sparks; his silver hand closed around Harry's throat.
"What is it, Wormtail?" called Lucius Malfoy from above.
"Nothing!" Ron called back, in a passable imitation of Wormtail's wheezy voice. "All fine!"
Harry could barely breathe.
"You're going to kill me?" Harry choked, attempting to prise off the metal fingers. "After I saved your life? You owe me, Wormtail!"
The silver fingers slackened. Harry had not expected it: He wrenched himself free, astonished, keeping his hand over Wormtail's mouth. He saw the ratlike man's small watery eyes widen with fear and surprise: He seemed just as shocked as Harry at what his hand had done, at the tiny, merciful impulse it had betrayed, and he continued to struggle more powerfully, as though to undo that moment of weakness.
"And we'll have that," whispered Ron, tugging Wormtail's wand from his other hand.
Wandless, helpless, Pettigrew's pupils dilated in terror. His eyes had slid from Harry's face to something else. His own silver fingers were moving inexorably toward his own throat.
"No -"
Without pausing to think, Harry tried to drag back the hand, but there was no stopping it. The silver tool that Voldemort had given his most cowardly servant had turned upon its disarmed and useless owner; Pettigrew was reaping his reward for his hesitation, his moment of pity; he was being strangled before their eyes.
"No!"
Ron had released Wormtail too, and together he and Harry tried to pull the crushing metal fingers from around Wormtail's throat, but it was no use. Pettigrew was turning blue.
"Relashio!" said Ron, pointing the wand at the silver hand, but nothing happened; Pettigrew dropped to his knees, and at the same moment, Hermione gave a dreadful scream from overhead. Wormtail's eyes rolled upward in his purple face; he gave a last twitch, and was still.
"Follow me." I hissed to Ron and Harry, who were now frozen in shock. "Your life depends on it."
I motioned for them to go after me and began to quietly run up the passage way into the drawing room, leaving Wormtails lifeless body behind me.
We crept along the narrow corridor until finally reaching the drawing room door, which was ajar.
Now we had a clear view of Bellatrix looking down at Griphook, who was holding Gryffindor's sword in his long-fingered hands. Hermione was lying at Bellatrix's feet. She was barely stirring.
"Well?" Bellatrix said to Griphook. "Is it the true sword?"
I held my breath as to avoid any extra noise.
"No," said Griphook. "It is a fake."
"Are you sure?" panted Bellatrix. "Quite sure?"
"Yes," said the goblin.
Relief broke across her face, all tension drained from it.
"Good," she said, and with a casual flick of her wand she slashed another deep cut into the goblin's face, and he dropped with a yell at her feet. She kicked him aside. "And now," she said in a voice that burst with triumph, "we call the Dark Lord!"
And she pushed back her sleeve and touched her forefinger to the Dark Mark.
"And I think," said Bellatrix's voice, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."
"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"
Ron had burst into the drawing room; Bellatrix looked around, shocked; she turned her wand to face Ron instead -
"Expelliarmus!" he roared, pointing Wormtail's wand at Bellatrix, and hers flew into the air and was caught by Harry, who had sprinted after Ron. Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, and Greyback wheeled about; Harry yelled, "Stupefy!" and Lucius Malfoy collapsed onto the hearth. Jets of light flew from Draco's, Narcissa's, and Greyback's wands; Harry threw himself to the floor, rolling behind a sofa to avoid them.
I managed to slip into the drawing room unnoticed due to the commotion, and took a stand at Draco's side.
"STOP OR SHE DIES!"
I saw Harry peer around the edge of the sofa. Bellatrix was supporting Hermione, who seemed to be unconscious, and was holding her short silver knife to Hermione's throat.
"Drop your wands," she whispered. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"
Ron stood rigid, clutching Wormtail's wand. Harry straightened up, still holding Bellatrix's.
"I said, drop them!" she screeched, pressing the blade into Hermione's throat: Harry saw beads of blood appear there.
"All right!" he shouted, and he dropped Bellatrix's wand onto the floor at his feet. Ron did the same with Wormtail's. Both raised their hands to shoulder height.
"Good!" she leered. "Draco, Y/n, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"
I picked up Bellatrix' wand, and Draco grabbed wormtails.
"Now," said Bellatrix softly, as Draco hurried back to her with the wands, "Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."
At the last word there was a peculiar grinding noise from above. All of us looked upward in time to see the crystal chandelier tremble; then, with a creak and an ominous jingling, it began to fall. Bellatrix was directly beneath it; dropping Hermione, she threw herself aside with a scream. The chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and chains, falling on top of Hermione and the goblin, who still clutched the sword of Gryffindor. Glittering shards of crystal flew in all directions: Draco doubled over, his hands covering his bloody face.
Ron dragged Hermione from under the chandelier, as Harry took his chance and wrestled the wands in Draco's hands, and I slipped him Wormtails.
As Narcissa dragged Draco out of the way of further harm, Bellatrix sprang to her feet, her hair flying as she brandished the silver knife; but Narcissa had directed her wand at the doorway.
"Dobby!" she screamed, and even Bellatrix froze. "You! You dropped the chandelier - ?"
The tiny elf trotted into the room, his shaking finger pointing at his old mistress.
"You must not hurt Harry Potter," he squeaked.
"Kill him, Cissy!" shrieked Bellatrix, but there was another loud crack, and Narcissa's wand too flew into the air and landed on the other side of the room.
"You dirty little monkey!" bawled Bellatrix. "How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?"
"Dobby has no master!" squealed the elf. "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"
"Ron, catch - and GO!" Harry yelled, throwing one of the wands to him; then he bent down to tug Griphook out from under the chandelier. Hoisting the groaning goblin, who still clung to the sword, over one shoulder, Harry seized Dobby's hand and spun on the spot to Disapparate.
Before they fully disappeared I saw Bellatrix' dagger pierce the small house elf. I was left alone in the room with Narcissa, Draco, and Bellatrix. We stood silently, knowing that Bellatrix was about to face the great danger of Voldemorts anger.