The CRACK that resounded as Dobby vanished was loud, seeming to fill in the small quarters. There was a thump upstairs, as if someone had stomped, and then a shout.

"What was that?" someone shouted above them, muffled. Rane, Harry and Ron all shrank, staring at the ceiling warily.

"Think they heard Dobby," Ron muttered.

Harry nodded, staring up.

"Okay, so besides Bellatrix, who's up there?" Rane asked, low.

Harry and Ron glanced at each other.

"Dunno," Harry whispered. "We only saw them for a moment, really . . ."

"Wormtail, for sure," Ron said. "Greyback. The Malfoys, all three of them."

"All three of them? Besides Lucius?"

"Yeah, and Narcissa and Draco."

"Draco? Who's Draco?"

"We go to school with him," Ron said.

"The one I wrote to you about, Rane," Harry added. "Last year."

"Shit." Rane sucked in a breath, feeling a surge of dread. "The kid with the vanishing cabinets."

Harry and Ron were nodding. Rane looked at them worriedly, silent, pursing her lips. The idea of a kid no older than Harry and Ron in the midst of a firefight was chilling.

"What?" Harry was looking at her, his eyes wide.

Rane shrugged, shaking her head. "I mean, if I go up there firing off spells he's liable to get his jackass head blown off -"

"And?" said Ron, sounding uncharacteristically cold.

Rane looked at him with surprise. "That's a hell of a thing to say about your classmate, Ron -"

"He's a Death Eater, Rane, that's why he's not at Hogwarts," Harry said. "He's one of the reasons why Dumbledore isn't here -"

"Yeah, but he's just a kid," Rane interrupted harshly. "Have you ever done anything stupid? You feel like you were born with stellar judgment?"

Harry was silent, but both he and Ron looked resentful. Rane looked between them for another moment, chewing her lip.

"You guys are both going with that house elf when he gets back."

"Dobby," Harry supplied, giving her a cool glance, "and no, we're not."

"Yes, you are." Rane turned her face back to him, her eyes hard. "If I get hurt or killed while I'm trying to get to Hermione, those guys are going to come down here for you, and neither of you -"

"You're not going to die!" Harry said sharply, giving her an alarmed look.

"Rane, there are loads of them, you can't take them all," Ron interrupted. His tone was remarkably stoic.

"Don't be stupid," Harry added.

Rane opened her mouth to protest this further, but before she could speak, another long, harrowing scream echoed from upstairs. Ron and Harry froze, staring at the ceiling. Ron's face was deadly white.

"I swear, you guys are the worst," she muttered, pulling her wand out. "Have either of you got a wand? Or anything?"

"No," Ron said, shaking his head.

"Alohomora," Rane muttered, aiming her wand at the door. The lock remained where it was, motionless.

"It's enchanted from the outside," said Ron grimly. "Dean said that they'd already tried to get out with Luna's wand before they found out she still had it . . . "

"Shit. Okay." Rane was biting her lip. "We'll have to get out the stupid way, I guess. You guys get on either side of the door. If more than one comes downstairs you might need to jump them. Y'all think you can do that?"
Ron and Harry glanced at each other, smirking.

"Rane, if you only knew the sort of rubbish we've been in the past few months," said Ron, shaking his head.

Rane snorted. "Well, that makes me feel better. Go on, you guys."

Ron and Harry positioned themselves, both crouched, tensed to spring. Rane lifted her wand, aimed it at the barred doorway with one eye clenched shut, and shot a blast of white light. It struck its mark with a resounding clang, as loud as a belfry, spraying sparks across the stone floor. Above them, the muffled conversation suddenly came to a halt.

"The cellar!" someone hissed.

"Draco - no, call Wormtail!" a voice echoed. "Make him go and check!"

Footsteps crossed overhead quickly, followed by the creak of a door and the rapid padding of someone descending the stairway. Rane tensed, her wand still raised towards the door.

"Stand back," said a wheezy voice behind the door. "Stand away from the door. I am coming in."

The door swung back, and before Rane stood a squat, rat-faced man with wispy hair and small, watery eyes. She had the space of a moment to take him in; he was clad in Death Eater robes, though they looked dingy and not very well cared for. On one side he held a wand loosely; the other hand seemed to be encompassed in a silvery, shining spell of some kind. Wormtail, Rane had no doubt.

For a moment he simply gawked at Rane, his mouth slightly open, as if unable to comprehend what he was seeing; a girl in bed shorts, boots and a tank top, wand outstretched and dark hair falling from the loose knot it was tied into, standing in the dungeon of Malfoy Manor without explanation where its prisoners should be. Before he could so much as lift his wand, however, both Harry and Ron had lunged at him from either side with their full weight. Ron clamped his hand over Wormtail's mouth as Wormtail latched onto Harry's throat with the silvery hand he bore. Rane lunged at his arm at once, attempting to drag it away, but there was absolutely no give; it was like trying to move solid rock. Wormtail's wand clattered from his hand as Ron wrestled with him, still spraying silvery sparks.

"What is it, Wormtail?" Lucius Malfoy's voice echoed from upstairs.

"Nothing!" Ron cried in a high falsetto, "all fine!"

Rane pulled her wand, jabbed it at Wormtail's throat and clutched at his robes with her free hand, staring at him with wild eyes. "Let him go, you fucker, you let him go!"

Harry's face was turning red. Rane felt a touch of panic.

"Let him go!" she hissed, jamming her wand into Wormtail's throat. He gagged, staring between her and Harry with large eyes. She dragged her nails across Wormtail's forearm, drawing blood in beads, staring at Harry's reddening face desperately. "Jesus Christ, you're killing him, you son of a bitch -!"

"You're going to kill me?" Harry croaked, dragging at the silvery hand with his fingers. "After I saved your life? You owe me, Wormtail!"

The effect was instantaneous. The silvery fingers around Harry's throat loosened, then relinquished their hold. And then, as Ron snatched up Wormtail's wand from the floor, the hand was moving towards its owner's throat, inexorable and almost lazy. Rane recoiled, staring in horror.

"No -"

Harry had leaped to the fore, attempting to pull the hand back, but it was useless. Rane tripped to her feet, her wand lowered. Wormtail was watching the silver hand's advent with helpless fascination, like a rat before a snake; Harry's attempts at preventing its movement were fruitless, and before Rane knew what was happening, the fingers had closed around Wormtail's throat.

"No!" Harry said, alarmed.

"Relashio!" Ron said, aiming his wand, but it was useless. And now the fingers were tightening, and Wormtail's eyes were bugging, his skin turning first red and then purple . . .

Rane stood, grabbed at both Ron and Harry, yanked them to their feet by their shirt collars and dragged them a step back. Wormtail continued to croak below them, writhing on the floor hideously. Rane couldn't imagine what was happening, but she thought she had a theory: a dark spell, turning on its master, a form of retribution after a betrayal, was what her heart told her.

"Don't look," Rane breathed, but of course none of them could look away. The time seemed to stretch into strings, until Hermione screamed from above them, startling them from their reverie. By then, Wormtail's purple face had ceased its twitching, and he had become still.

Harry made as if to kneel before Wormtail, but Ron reached out and jerked him back.

"Leave him, Harry," he said coldly, staring down at Wormtail with clear distaste. "Come on. Hermione."

Rane cast one final, disturbed look down at the body on the floor, the stepped around it and followed Ron and Harry up the stairway through the door that had been left ajar by the deceased Death Eater.

THE scene in the drawing room of Malfoy Manor was just as dire as Rane had feared. Hermione lay on the floor, motionless except for the quick rise and fall of her chest with her breath. A goblin was near at hand, grasping a ruby-crusted sword and studying it with apparent concentration. The shuffling motion of others was audible just out of sight. As she crouched in the hallway shadows with Ron and Harry, however, she found she could not tear her eyes away from Bellatrix Lestrange.

Rane had met her face to face only once - the night Sirius had died - but she found that the merest details of her countenance were as intimately familiar to her as Rane's own, as if burned into her brain. Bellatrix stood over Hermione, her wand grasped loosely in one long-fingered hand, her heavily lidded eyes sparkling malevolently down at the goblin from beneath clouds of thick black hair. Her mouth was wide, painted red and oddly lascivious. It was impossible not to see Sirius in her features; they could have been siblings, albeit separated by several years. The dark good looks that had inhabited Sirius's features rested in Bellatrix's as well. It was strange, looking at her, so evocative of the man she'd murdered . . .

Rane felt Ron's hand grasp her forearm and tensed, glancing at him. She realized with a jolt that she had already gotten halfway to her feet, as if her body were prepared to attack before her mind had even fully arrived there. She settled back, unnerved, feeling her muscles trembling slightly. Her heart was beating much too hard.

"Well?" Bellatrix said abruptly, making all three of them jump. "Is it the true sword?"

The goblin holding the sword cast another look down at it, then turned his strange eyes back up to Bellatrix.
"No," he said in his gravelly voice. "It is a fake."

"Are you sure?" said Bellatrix, breathing quickly. "Quite sure?"

"Yes," said the goblin.

Bellatrix's face seemed to relax. She loosed a high-pitched, cold laugh, straightening, and then suddenly flicked her wand casually at the goblin, who fell to the floor, blood dashing from his face, the sword clanging to the floor. Harry and Ron both jerked impulsively at Rane's side. Bellatrix kicked the goblin aside, where he writhed near the fireplace, groaning and clutching at his maimed cheek. She looked around her, eyes shining.

"And now," she said in a tone full of cold victory, "we call the Dark Lord!"

AFTER that, things began to happen very quickly. Rane found later that she could not recall all the details; it seemed to merge into color, and motion, and rage.

The first thing that happened was Harry, halfway collapsing at their sides. His eyes rolled halfway up, and his mouth turned down as if in agony; Rane turned to him in alarm, reaching out and grasping him beneath the armpits, so that he fell fully into her with all of his not-inconsiderable weight.

And then, before any of them could address this:

"And I think," Bellatrix said, "that we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want."

"NOOO!"

Before Rane could do anything, Ron had burst out of hiding, Wormtail's wand held before him, his eyes blazing. Rane and Harry both leapt to their feet. 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 - all of them had been out of sight of Rane - wheeled about; Harry yelled, "Stupefy!" and Lucius Malfoy collapsed onto the hearth. Jets of light flew madly from all of their wands.

Rane stepped out of the shadows, shielding Harry, and dragged him behind a sofa in one swift motion. Even as they passed behind it, the sharp sounds of spells hitting the cushions was loud, sending stuffing flying into the air, smoking.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

Panting, Rane and Harry peered 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. Harry made a quick motion as if to leave their cover; Rane jerked him back down roughly.

"Drop your wands," said Bellatrix, eyeing Ron. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is."

Ron stood silent, breathing heavily, glaring at Bellatrix with a hot-blooded audacity that made Rane feel a surge of fierce affection for him. Bellatrix jabbed the dagger into Hermione's neck, gripping a handful of her hair in the other hand. Beads of blood appeared at the dagger's point.

"I said, DROP THEM!" she said loudly.

Ron reluctantly bent and lay Wormtail's wand on the floor.

"Pick them up, Draco," Bellatrix snapped at once. The boy she was addressing - a blonde-haired young man with a pointed face, standing between the unconscious Lucius and Narcissa, who was clutching at him with desperate terror - jerked, looking frightened.

"And YOU, behind the sofa, Potter!" Bellatrix added, jerking her head towards Rane and Harry. "YOU, STAND UP WHERE WE CAN SEE YOU!"

Harry began to stand, but Rane was faster. She rose slowly, stepping out from behind the sofa slowly, her wand held before her. Bellatrix locked eyes on her, clearly surprised to see anyone but Harry. Rane held her ground.

"Well," said Bellatrix after a moment, her voice quiet. "Rane Roth. Isn't that your name, dearie?"

"That's my name," said Rane, very quiet.

"She's from the Order!" Greyback said from the other side of the room, glaring at her. "Let me have her!"

"Hush!" Bellatrix said sharply. Her eyes had not wavered from Rane's. "I want her for myself. She's got a bit of . . . Oh, an axe to grind with me, haven't you, dear?"

"Let her go," Rane said softly. Her wand had not wavered from Bellatrix, but now it was shaking slightly. She had not felt such anger surging through her since her childhood, and she could feel her control over herself slipping. If Ron, Hermione and Harry were here when she lost it . . .

"Oh, she's angry," Bellatrix said, her voice lithe and joyous, and loosed a tinkling laugh. "How dear she is! Still so upset about my dear cousin, I suppose? Oh, Severus told us all about your little tryst," she added, smirking. "He says you've an awful time keeping your filthy half-blood temper under control. Is that true, Rane?"

Rane was trembling so severely now that she could barely keep her wand trained on Bellatrix. The light around her was beginning to rise . . . She could feel her eyes flickering . . . And now, Bellatrix's smile was beginning to sag a little -

Suddenly, there was a strange, creaking sound above them. Rane and Bellatrix both looked above them. Dobby was sitting on the chandelier above them, both hands on the chain. He was unscrewing it, and Rane had the space of a mere moment to realize it.

She threw herself aside. Bellatrix did as well, dropping Hermione where she had stood. The chandelier fell with a tinkling, deafening crash. Rane dashed forward, wasting no time in scooping Hermione into her arms and dashing back towards Ron, who was still staring at this sudden cacophony with clear shock. Harry had thrown himself out from behind the sofa and tackled Draco, and as Rane watched, he wrested the wand from Draco's hand, staggering backwards. Narcissa clutched at her son, dragging him away from the fray, her face pale and harried. Greyback lunged towards Rane, his face transported with rage, but Rane aimed her wand at him and in a bright red flash of light he was lifted off his feet and thrown against the far wall, where he fell into a heap, motionless.

And amidst the chaos was Dobby, who with a wave of his long-fingered hand disarmed Narcissa, glaring at her with a fiery hatred that Rane had not suspected. Bellatrix, who had at last staggered to her feet, stooped, snatched Greyback's wand from the ground and aimed it at Rane, but Rane aimed her own.

"EXPELLIARMUS!" she screamed, so loudly that the cords on her neck stood out. The rage she felt was almost insurmountable, and she could feel the pulsating power beneath her skin, ready to burst out. Bellatrix's wand flew from her hand, clattering to the ground some ways away. Bellatrix turned to Rane, her face transported with fury.

"FILTHY HALF-BLOOD!" she shrieked at Rane, her face reddening. "A PROPER MATE FOR SIRIUS, WEREN'T YOU? AND A PROPER MOTHER FOR HIS FILTHY MUDBLOOD BROOD -"

"SHUT THE FUCK - UP!" Rane screamed. Her wand sprayed silvery violet sparks from its trembling tip. "YOU KEEP HIS NAME OUT OF YOUR MOUTH -!"

"Rane!" Harry hissed at her from her side. "We have to go, forget her -!"

"You!" this was Narcissa, glaring at Dobby, who stood in the center of the room, his ears flattened. "YOU! You dropped the chandelier!"

Dobby leveled a trembling finger at Narcissa, his eyes cold.

"You will not hurt Harry Potter!" he said loudly.

"You dirty little monkey!" Bellatrix shouted at him. "How dare you! How dare you take a witch's wand? How dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master!" Dobby cried. "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to free Harry Potter and his friends!"

Before Rane could act further, Harry had grasped her, Ron and Dobby, and in a swirl of darkness the five of them Disapparated on the spot with Harry's pilfered wand, to where Rane did not know.