Malfoy Manor.

The Snatchers were taking them to Malfoy Manor. They had Disapparated, all of them squeezed tightly against each other, and landed in a country lane. One of the Snatchers strode to the gates and shook them.

'How do we get in? They're locked, Greyback, I can't – blimey!'

He whipped his hands away in fright. The iron was contorting, twisting itself out of the abstract furls and coils into a frightening face, which spoke in a clanging, echoing voice: 'State your purpose!'

'We've got Potter!' Greyback roared triumphantly. 'We've captured Harry Potter!'

The gates swung open.

'Come on!' said Greyback to his men, and the prisoners were shunted through the gates and up the drive, between high hedges that muffled their footsteps. There was a ghostly white shape above them, and Hermione realised it was an albino peacock. Light spilled out over all of them.

'What is this?' said a woman's cold voice.

'We're here to see He Who Must Not Be Named!' rasped Greyback.

'Who are you?'

'You know me!' There was resentment in the werewolf 's voice, 'Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!'

Greyback seized Harry and dragged him round to face the light, forcing the other prisoners to shuffle round too.

'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 travelling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well! 'Ere, ma'am –'

Hermione saw Narcissa Malfoy scrutinising Harry's swollen face. Scabior thrust the blackthorn wand at her. She raised her eyebrows.

'Bring them in,' she said.

Hermione 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.'

The drawing room dazzled after the darkness outside; even with his eyes almost closed Hermione could make out the wide proportions of the room. 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 is this?'

The dreadfully familiar, drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy fell on Hermione's ears.

'They say they've got Potter,' said Narcissa's cold voice. 'Draco, come here.'

Hermione snapped her head sideways and looked directly at Draco. He was slightly taller than last year, when she last saw him. He rose from an armchair, his face a pale and pointed blur beneath white-blond hair.

Greyback forced the prisoners to turn again so as to place Harry directly beneath the chandelier.

'Well, boy?' rasped the werewolf.

They moved around then and Hermione could no longer see Draco. She allowed a tar or two to slip and trembled against the ropes.

'Well, Draco?' said Lucius Malfoy. He sounded avid. 'Is it? Is it Harry Potter?'

'I can't – I can't be sure,' said Draco. Hermione squeezed her eyes shut at the sound of his voice as another tear slipped down her cheek.

'But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!'

'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.

'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.

'There's something there,' he whispered, 'it could be the scar, stretched tight ... Draco, come here, look properly! What do you think?'

'I don't know,' he said, and Hermione heard footsteps as he moved away from them.

'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. Hermione was nearly thrown off her feet as the Snatchers forced the prisoners to swivel around again, so that the light fell on her instead. She heard a sharp intake of breath and forced herself not to look up.

'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?'

She looked up at him then and nodded slowly. Nothing could help them now.

'I ... maybe ... yeah.'

'But then, that's the Weasley boy!' shouted Lucius, striding round 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, 'It could be.'

The drawing-room door opened behind them. A woman spoke, and the sound of the voice wound Hermione's fear to an even higher pitch.

'What is this? What's happened, Cissy?'

Bellatrix Lestrange walked slowly around the prisoners, and stopped on her, staring at Hermione through her heavily lidded eyes.

'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: Hermione 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 –'

Hermione tuned out the Death Eater and looked around the room before her gaze rested on Draco. He was looking at her his eyes filled with fear and regret as he stared at her. She watched as his mouth moved and she smiled slightly.

I'm sorry. I love you

'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 Hermione's limited line of vision.

'What is that?' she heard her say.

'Sword,' grunted an out-of-sight 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: Hermione knew that 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 Hermione knew, 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. Out of the corners of her eyes, Hermione saw Bellatrix 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, his wand held out in front of him, projecting an invisible and irresistible force.

'Reckon she'll let me have a bit of the girl when she's finished with her?' Greyback crooned, as he forced them along the corridor. 'I'd say I'll get a bite or two, wouldn't you, Ginger?'

Hermione whimpered as she was thrown on the floor. She closed her mind hoping what Harry had taught her would stick.

'Where? Where did you get the sword?

'I don't know'

'CRUCIO'

She screamed then as the pain spread through her body, setting it on fire.

'HERMIONE! HERMIONE!'

Ron. She could hear. She need to tell him to stop. If he kept shouting, they'd kill him too.

'HERMIONE! HERMIONE!'

'CRUCIO'

Hermione screamed again as Bellatrix cackled.

'HERMIONE! HERMIONE!'

'I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?'

'We found it – we found it – PLEASE!' Hermione screamed again as a sharp pain went through her arm.

'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, another explosion of pain.

'HERMIONE!'

'What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!'

Hermione was screaming again and the knife moved over the skin on her right arm.

'What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!'

Hermione's screams echoed off the walls upstairs, upstairs Hermione was screaming worse than ever

'HERMIONE! HERMIONE!'

'How did you get into my vault?' she 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!'

Draco moved out of sight of his parents as the tears slipped down his cheek. This was his fault. It was all his fault.

He went down the cellar quickly, but quietly. Just in time too as that was when he heard it.

'Griphook,' came the voice. Potter. 'you must tell them that sword's a fake, they mustn't know it's the real one, Griphook, please –'

He was going to fix this. Or at least try. He scuttled down the cellar steps and spoke, his voice shaking, behind the door. 'Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!'

The door flew open; and he marched inside, wand held out in front of him, pale and determined. 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.

He ignored the sound and shoved the goblin against the wall. 'You need to tell them it's a fake. Tell them it's a copy or they'll kill you.'

The goblin's eyes widened at his words before he nodded. Draco pulled away and marched him to his aunt.

As he slushed the goblin towards Greyback, there was a loud crack for the cellar.

'What was that?' His father shouted. 'Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?'

'Draco – no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!'

Footsteps crossed the room, then there was silence. They were listening for more noises from the cellar.

'What is it, Wormtail?' called Lucius Malfoy.

'Nothing!', came his voice, 'All fine!'

Draco smiled slightly. Weasley was good at something after all. That was not what Wormtail sounded like but his father seemed to believe it.

Draco watched as his aunt handed the Sword of Gryffindor to the goblin. He heard some noise by the door of the drawing room and glanced there to see Potter and Weasel watching them. Potter spotted him and Draco brought a finger to his lips. He nodded in response as Draco turned back to face the Death Eaters.

Belatrix looking down at the goblin, 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?'

Draco waited, holding his breath.

'No,' said the goblin. '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, 'we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her.'

'NOOOOOOOOOOOO!'

Weasley had burst into the drawing room; Bellatrix looked round, shocked; she turned her wand to face Ron.

'Expelliarmus!' he roared, pointing Wormtail's wand at Bellatrix, and hers flew into the air and was caught by Potter, who had sprinted after Weasley. Draco needed to put on a show. They couldn't know he wasn't in their side. Lucius, Narcissa, Draco and Greyback wheeled about; Potter yelled, 'Stupefy!' and his father collapsed on to the hearth. Jets of light flew from his, Narcissa's and Greyback's wands; Potter threw himself to the floor, rolling behind a sofa to avoid them.

'STOP OR SHE DIES!'

Panting, Draco turned around to see Bellatrix 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!'

Weasley stood rigid, clutching Wormtail's wand. Potter straightened up, still holding Bellatrix's.

'I said, drop them!' she screeched, pressing the blade into Hermione's throat: Draco saw beads of blood appear there.

'All right!' Potter shouted, and he dropped Bellatrix's wand on to the floor at his feet. Weasley did the same with Wormtail's. Both raised their hands to shoulder height.

'Good!' she leered. 'Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!'

Draco moved towards them slowly as Potter watched him. He shook his head slightly as he grabbed the wands.

'Now,' said Bellatrix softly, as he hurried back 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 them looked upwards 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.

As Weasley ran to pull Hermione out of the wreckage, Potter took his chance; he leapt over an armchair and headed towards Draco, who handed him the wands, trying to be discreet, nodding once.

"Tell her I'm sorry. Tell her I love please, Potter", he whispered.

Potter had nodded and pointed all of the wands at Greyback and yelled 'Stupefy!' The werewolf was lifted off his feet by the triple spell, flew up to the ceiling and then smashed to the ground.

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!' Potter yelled, throwing one of the wands to him; then he bent down to tug the goblin out from under the chandelier. Hoisting the groaning goblin, who still clung to the sword, over one shoulder, he seized Dobby's hand and he spun on the spot to Disapparate.

Draco watched, frozen from shock as a blur of flying silver, that would be Bellatrix's knife flew across the room at the place where the love of his life was vanishing.

I'm so sorry Hermione. I love you