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"Harry Potter?" I look down, and I see a disheveled house elf with his large bat ears thrown into his face.
"Dobby? How'd you get down here? There are anti-apparition spells, aren't there?"
"House elves have different magic, Harry Potter, wizard magic doesn't affect us." I grin, never more grateful for this, until I hear a call from upstairs.
"Pettigrew, go see what that was." We don't have much time, so I make a quick decision.
"Dobby, how many people can you get out of here at once?"
"I think four, Harry Potter, would be all I could do."
"Then take Luna, Dean, Griphook, and Ollivander. Ron and I will stay here, we have to get Hermione." Dobby looks like he's going to argue, but he nods and swiftly grabs them all and pops away, just like that. I don't know where he's taking them, but anywhere is better than here.
The door opens, and my heart sinks when I realize it's too late to turn the lights off. It's Pettigrew, the murderer, a man who I hate more than anything, who looks very shocked to find us untied. He takes his wand out and hurries down the stairs, pointing it at both of us, his silver hand gripped around it tightly. I continue to stare at him with hate, because the man who killed my parents might kill me right now, and I at least want to die fighting like they did. There's another scream from upstairs, Hermione's, but this time it comes as a relief. She's still alive, maybe Dobby can save her.
When she screams, Pettigrew drops the wand in shock. I don't run for it, he's closer, but strangely he doesn't lean down to get it. He just stares at the hand, eyes widening, as it shakes. He looks like he's fighting, although what I cannot tell.
Soon it becomes clear to me, as the hand draws closer to him, although he's sweating in a struggle. He's turning on himself, or at least the silver hand is. It reaches his neck, gentle fingers slowly wrapping around, a steady grasp despite the trembling man.
"Please, Harry." He gasps as the hand starts to choke him. I could stop it, I bet, but instead I watch coldly as the grip tightens. I have no regret when he falls to the ground, and I move to grab his wand when the silver hand dissipates into thin air. Just like that, the third Marauder is dead.
There's another loud pop, and Dobby has returned, although this time he's not alone. I recognize him in a flash, it's Draco. I don't know why he's here, but I'm immediately scared for him. I've never been so glad, and so unhappy to see him at the same time. I know we don't have much time before they send someone else, so I grab Dobby, Ron, and Draco to run up the stairs. Hermione's in trouble, there's not time for anything except to fight.
"Why are you here?" I ask urgently as we run.
"Because I'm not letting you go this easy." He replies evenly
We push through the now unlocked door, and spells start flying immediately. Ron runs to find Hermione, and I just try to protect Draco. Although he clearly doesn't need my help, he smoothly dodges every spell, a fierce look in his eyes. I realize what it must be like for him, fighting to escape his own home.
I see a flash of red, and know that Ron's returned. He's half carrying Hermione, who, despite her state, seems to be maintaining a shield charm while Ron fights people off. Bellatrix runs after them, and I know we don't have a shot against her if Sirius didn't.
"Dobby!" I call, and he grabs Draco and I roughly as Hermione and Ron reach us. I feel him getting closer, Voldemort, and I realize they must have summoned him. Dobby begins to pull us away, his elfish form of apparition taking place. But then I see her, Bellatrix, throwing something silver, a flash that is pulled in with us.
We arrive on a beach, and I have one second's relief to breath in the sea air, before looking around for the others. Ron is beginning to sit up as well, with Hermione sprawled across him. Dobby is obviously dizzy, stepping in circles with his large head wobbling. I'd laugh, except then I see him. Draco hasn't gotten up, he's face down in the sand. I quickly kneel next to him, gently turning him over.
Sticking out of his stomach is Bellatrix's silver knife, having missed her target but hitting someone who got in the way. I call out for help, and gently try and take the knife out.
"Draco!" There's blood, a lot of blood. It looks almost silver in the moonlight, and I pull his head onto my lap, wand hovering over his stomach. I'm not a healer, I don't know what I'm doing, I just know he has to be okay. We both made a promise, he'd better keep his end of it.
Sorry for the cliffhanger, reviews are loved!