Chapter Twenty Five

A/N: Thank you to RoseGranger for reviewing the last chapter.

Scarlette stood at the top of the spiral staircase that led down toward the dining hall, from where a number of voices were drifting up to her. There were too far away for her to be able to distinguish the words they were saying, but she could certainly recognise the familiar lilts of her family. And of her old friends.

Unable to resist the temptation any longer, the young woman began to descend the staircase, taking each step with extreme caution and a lack of speed, so that she could lessen the sound her heeled shoes made as they came into contact with the ancient stone of the staircase. She had heard a couple of voices, but she could never tell how many were actually present in the room and were merely remaining silence. For all she knew, the Dark Lord himself could be present.

Finally, she reached the bottom of the staircase, and though she did not emerge fully, she moved aside enough so that she had a clearer view of the drawing room.

There were eight figures that she recognised in the room, along with a couple that she vaguely recognised, and some that she had never seen in her life, but Scarlette's mind was too addled by confusion and shock to care about the strangers. It was the three young adults stood between her mother and the strangers that she was interested in. They were here. They'd been caught.

The young woman felt her heart sink as she realised what this would mean. If Harry, Ron and Hermione were here, then her mother would soon summon the Dark Lord, and her uncle would do so if her mother was not quick enough, and they were doomed. The War would be over soon, but it would not be the Order of the Phoenix and their sympathisers that would be the victors of it. The Dark Lord would be victorious at last.

Unfortunately, in her eagerness to gain more details of what was going on, Scarlette did not look where she was going, and her hand on the bannister dislodged a stone that had come loose from it. It went clattering to the floor, and the sound echoed across the room. Every eye in the drawing room turned to the staircase, and, knowing that there was no good hiding any longer, the brunette stepped into the light.

"Ah, Scarlette, darling!" Bellatrix exclaimed, her face lighting up with a mischievous glee at the sight of her daughter. Forcing a smile onto her face, Scarlette approached the woman, stopping once she had reached her left hand side, just a few feet away from where her aunt, uncle and cousin stood by the fireplace. She locked eyes with Draco for a second, before turning back to her mother. "Look who we found strolling around in the woods."

Knowing that she was being prompted to do so, the young woman turned, and she met the gaze of three people that she had used to call her friends. Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Hermione Granger; the three people most desired by the Death Eaters, and now here they stood, captured, preparing to face the victorious wrath of Lord Voldemort. As she read the expressions of her mother and uncle, Scarlette supposed that she should be more jubilant at their capture, but she could not bring herself to rejoice in the capture of three people that she had been so close to in the past.

"Harry Potter. The boy who survived the Killing Curse." Bellatrix spoke, a reverence in her voice similar to her tone when she addressed Lord Voldemort. However, when she spoke to the Boy Who Lived, the reverence was merely mocking and nothing more than that. "And just look at you now, all of you. Trapped, scared, cowering in front of the big bad Death Eaters, just waiting for the Dark Lord to finally take his revenge. There's no saving you now, you know. It's only a matter of time."

Unable to prevent herself, Scarlette breathed a sigh, though she was able to conceal it well enough for it not to catch her mother's attention. She knew that Bellatrix would never allow them to escape, not when she could claim the glory and the Dark Lord's high favour from their capture; they had no hope. Except, perhaps... her.

She had known that this time would come one day, the time to prove which side she was really a part of; the Death Eaters or the Order of the Phoenix. The two were mutually exclusive, after all, and as opposing sides, there could not be one without there being the other as well. She could choose fight alongside her family, and uphold the ancient values and traditions that had been held up by dozens of generations of Purebloods; or she could choose to fight for the cause that she believed in, for the rebels trying to rid the world of an evil, twisted megalomaniac. It was her decision to make now; the Dark Lord, or the Boy who Lived.

Scarlette had no chance to even consider the two options before her mother pulled her from her thoughts, pulling her wand from its place on her belt and twirling it slowly between her fingers, a sadistic grin lighting up her features. It was only now that her daughter had become a little worried. Whenever her mother smiled in such a way, the result was never a good one, and almost never a clean one either. And when she retrieved a dagger from its belt as well, the young woman, although she was not shocked, could not conceal her horrified gasp.

"Mum, I really don't think you should do this." she told the woman, trying to hide the worry and fear in her expression, though she doubted she had done so successfully. For a moment, Bellatrix stood staring at her daughter, eyebrows raised, before she smiled at the girl, a smile more akin to the ones they shared when they were alone.

"No, Scarlette, you're absolutely right. I shouldn't." she said, and the whole of the rest of the room fell silent. They knew that Bellatrix's sudden change of heart was too good to be true. But there was not long to wait before they discovered the truth, as the woman offered the knife to her daughter and Scarlette's heart dropped into her boots. "But you should."

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