Torture warning! I chose to include Hermione's scar, bite me. Hope y'all enjoy this chapter and sorry I used dashes as line breaks (can't figure out how to do it on lol)
"Wait," called Bellatrix. "Leave the Mudblood." Her voice rang clear throughout the drawing room, stopping Hermione dead in her tracks.
Her heart dropped to her stomach. Bellatrix Lestrange was infamous for her torture techniques, having driven Neville Longbottom's parents to insanity. And while Harry was off limits, there was nothing barring Bellatrix from doing her worst to Hermione.
Besides her, she heard Ron let out a yell, fighting against his bonds.
"NO! Take me, take me instead!"
Bellatrix threw her head back, cackling, as her hair seemed to electrify around her.
"You'll get your chance soon enough. Blood traitor's next to Mudblood in my book." She laughed, rotten teeth twisted into an unwelcome imitation of a smile.
Greyback dragged her to the center of the room, depositing her in the center of the carpet. She only vaguely heard Harry and Ron yelling behind her, the blood rushing to her ears blocking out their frantic voices. She gazed horrified at Bellatrix, who was suddenly the only thing she could see.
She was standing over her, wand twirling lazily around her fingers. Her eyes were wild, unhinged, as if she was a lioness basking in the fear of her prey.
Bellatrix laughed, softly, the harsh noise reverberating. Hermione whimpered. Bellatrix's eyes flashed, revelling in her power. She moved to circle around her, forcing Hermione to crane her neck up to keep her eyes fixed on her form.
She moved to push herself up to a standing position, but Bellatrix tsk-ed, suddenly looming over her.
"Oh, no, no, Mudblood," she drawled. "You're going to stay right there." She grabbed Hermione's chin, jerking her neck upward, and stooped down to be eye level with her.
"Now, you're going to tell me exactly where you got this sword," she growled, punctuating each word with a jab to Hermione's throat with her wand. Hermione gasped, unable to breath.
"Please, no, we found it-"
"LIAR!" bellowed Bellatrix, releasing Hermione from her grip. Her head hit the floor with a thump, a new ringing piercing through her ears. The room swam in circles above her, the chandelier created a cascade of light all too bright. She screwed her eyes shut, begging for her eyes to cooperate, when, without warning, her body erupted in the most excruciating pain she had ever felt.
She was on fire, as if every limb on her body had been severed off. Her nerves were magnified to new heights, thousands of needles piercing straight through her body and pinning her to the floor. A wretched scream tore from her throat, complete darkness engulfing her. She couldn't see, every cell in her body focused on the immeasurable pain.
Her vocal cords strained as every jerk of Bellatrix's wand caused a new wave of hurt to flow through her body, creating sensations she never thought possible. And suddenly, just as it began, it stopped, Bellatrix towering over her menacingly. She lay twitching on the flood, nerves firing with every movement.
"Filthy Mudblood, where did you get this sword? It was in my vault, what else did you take?" Bellatrix growled, a panicked look in her eyes.
She shook her head frantically, opening her mouth to deny her they had been in her vault, when the pain washed over her body again, somehow worse than before. It was as if the momentary release had shocked her body, amplifying the torture tenfold.
Another cry ripped its way out of her throat, muscles stiffening painfully under Bellatrix's wand, before the pain stopped once more.
Hermione gasped out. Bellatrix's face was looming over hers, a single finger scraping its way over her face.
"Let's have some fun, shall we, Mudblood?" Bellatrix whispered maniacally, grabbing hold of her hair and giving it a sharp pull. She whimpered, head still tender from when she had fallen over.
Suddenly, something cool touched her forearm. Bellatrix had pressed a knife into her skin, carefully dragging it across her arm. Pain exploded across her arm, as if the Cruciatus curse was centered over her arm. Involuntarily, she buckled, Bellatrix's knife plunging deeper into her skin. She could feel the warmth of her blood rushing down to the floor, staining the Malfoys' carpet red.
I hope it doesn't come out, she thought, vaguely, before Bellatrix made another stroke with her knife, wrangling a new scream out of her.
Behind her, Draco stood with a deathly grip on the sides of his armchair, his already pale face several shades lighter. He flinched almost imperceptibly with each new scream that pierced the air, but it was enough.
Narcissa's eagle eyes narrowed in onto him, darting back and forth quickly between him and Granger. She stepped closer to him, placing a dainty hand firmly over his. She shook her head once - a small and sharp movement.
His mother always sought to comfort him. When Charity Burbage had dropped dead onto his dining room table, throat slit cleanly in the air, it was his mother who had thrown her hand onto his knee, stopping his knee-jerk reaction before it even happened. And here she was now, making sure he knew to control himself.
Granger shrieked again as Bellatrix etched her last stroke into her arm. She sat up, a smile twisting onto her face as she admired her work. A single, hateful word radiated upwards, stark against the paleness of her skin: in crooked letters, Mudblood.
Granger whimpered achingly, clearly seeing the word at the same time.
Bellatrix lent back over, knife poised against the open wound. Tantalizingly, she began to trace the wound, extending her lines to mar more of her skin. Her wicked eyes gleamed over her.
"Now, Mudblood," she spat, still dragging the knife. "Where did you get the sword?"
"Please, please," she gasped. "It's a fake - not real." Bellatrix stilled, allowing the knife to leave her forearm.
"If you're lying, I'll kill you where you lie."
She shook her head vigorously.
"I'm not - I wouldn't"
Bellatrix stood, turning to face him.
"Draco, fetch the goblin."
Draco gulped. Narcissa whipped her head towards Bellatrix indignantly.
"You will not speak to my son like that in my house!"
Bellatrix snarled, ready to retort, but Draco was already moving to the cellar, heart pounding in his throat. She was doomed. He didn't know what significance that sword held to his aunt, but if he knew anything about Granger, it was that it was real. He had no idea how they managed to steal it, but there was not a doubt in his mind it was goblin-wrought.
The goblin would only confirm that to his aunt, leaving Granger to bleed out onto his carpet. He couldn't let that happen. Granger was - Granger was the girl he'd tormented since he was eleven, but he didn't want her dead.
It was too much, the vendetta the Dark Lord expected him to hold against Muggles. He'd seen Granger in the classroom, had to grudgingly admit she was better at magic than he was. If a muggle-born was at the top of the class, it was obvious to anyone with half a brain that muggles had to have some redeemable qualities. By no means did he want to associate with them, but to want them exterminated?
He'd made his mind up before he reached the door out of the drawing room.
The second the door was closed behind him, he burst into a run, rushing down the stairs to the cellar. He burst in front of the bars barring the prisoners from leaving the cellar, coming face to face with Potter and Weasley's horrified expressions.
He watched as their faces contorted into hatred, Weasley opening his mouth in anger, but he cut him off quickly, desperate for time.
"There's a hidden door directly in the center of the wall behind you. Rap it three times, say Malfoy, and it'll open a tunnel that leaves out of the grounds. Once you make it past the 100 meter mark, you should be able to apparate out. Leave Granger to me."
Potter's slack face stared back at him.
"Why would we ever trust you, Malfoy?" gritted out Ron, face reddening by the second.
He growled expasteradly.
"What choice do you have right now? Give me the goblin." he said.
Griphook stepped forward, and ignoring the duo, he continued.
"Bellatrix is going to ask you if the sword is real, you need to lie. Under no circumstance can you reveal the truth. In return, I'll return everything goblin-made in the Malfoy vault to Gringotts. Deal?"
Griphook beady eyes shined, the promise of purging the extensive Malfoy vaults of its treasures too enticing to resist. He gave a nod, and Draco turned back up to look at Potter, who was regarding him suspiciously.
"I'm going to open the door now. You need to leave, now, before they notice you're gone," he said, suddenly fishing into the pockets of his robes. He had taken to stashing an extra wand on him at all times, aware that Voldemort was prone to asking for other's wands. His hand closed around the wand, shorter than his own, and he thrust it through the bars at Potter's face.
"Take it," he growled. Potter just stared at him.
"Malfoy, what is this?" he said, slowly. Draco put a hand to his head, tempted to rip his hair out. Trust Potter to be the only person in existence to deny a wand while behind bars.
"I think you can trust him, Harry," came Luna's voice over his shoulder. "He's been quite kind to us."
Dean snorted.
"I don't know if I'd ever call Malfoy kind," he said.
"Oh, but he has been," said Luna, drifting over to tug the wand out of Malfoy's hand. "He brings us extra food at night. We should go now."
Weasley spluttered at this revelation, but Luna was already moving towards the back of the cellar, searching for the hidden door. She tapped thrice, and a large slab slid over, revealing a blank stretch of hallway. She turned back to the cellar, a light smile gracing her features.
"Where should we apparate to?" she asked.
"Shell's Cottage," interjected Ron quickly. "It's a safe house run by the order."
Luna nodded, moving towards Ollivander. She slung her arms over the frail man, helping him up and disappearing into the darkness. Dean followed her, leaving just Potter, Weasley, and the goblin in the cellar.
"We're not leaving Hermione," said Potter determinedly. Weasley nodded vigorously beside him.
"Fine," he breathed out. "But we have to move. Stay behind the door, I'll get Granger down to the cellar."
The cellar door swung open, and he steered Griphook out, taking the steps two at a time. He entered the drawing room again, grunting out an excuse over Potter refusing to cooperate. Granger still lay twitching on the ground, Bellatrix pacing next to her.
"Finally!" She strode over to where the sword lay on the ground and thrust it towards Griphook. "The sword, is it the true sword?"
Griphook stepped out from behind him, surveying the polished silver of the sword. There was a brief moment of silence, his eyes flashing over the glimmering rubies, before he lifted his head. Mouth turned downward, he gave a decisive shake of his head.
"No, a fake."
"Positively?" she prompted, the air pulsing with magic around her. His sharp teeth bared as he sneered.
"A rather poor one, at that," he said.
Bellatrix visibly deflated with relief, tension draining from her face. Draco studied her. The sword was important to her, or, rather, to the Dark Lord.
"Good," she said, slashing her wand and leaving a gash of blood along the goblin's face. "Now, we call the Dark Lord!"
She ripped her sleeve up her arm, revealing a glaring Dark Mark. She pressed her forefinger down, laughing triumphantly. Draco winced. This complicated things.
"And, now, I think we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, if you please," she said, waving an indifferent hand towards Granger.
"NOOOOOO!" Weasley burst into the drawing room, tackling Greyback, who had been closest to the door. Potter sprinted out behind him, scooping down to retrieve a wand off the body of a snatcher.
Bellatrix spun in shock, reacting too slowly to avoid being disarmed by Potter. Her wand flew into the air, and Potter quickly tossed it over to Weasley.
Making a quick decision, Draco stunned his father in the back, watching him collapse on the hearth, and whirled around to face his mother, staring at him thunderstruck. He had to do it - if they found out he had let them out of the cellar, he'd be punished, made an example out of by the Dark Lord. Bellatrix wouldn't hesitate to make him her next victim.
The flash of spells whirled around them as Greyback dueled Potter, a red beam of light narrowly avoiding hitting Draco in the head.
He shook his head, unable to explain to his mother what he had just done, but was saved from explaining when Bellatrix's voice rang out through the drawing room.
"STOP OR SHE DIES!"
Her knife was pressed to Granger's throat, small droplets of blood already glinting along the sharp blade. Her head lolled at her side, seemingly unconscious as Bellatrix threatened her life.
"Drop your wands," she whispered. "Drop them, or she dies"
Potter and Weasley stood rigid, wands pointed at Bellatrix.
"I said, drop them!" she screeched, pulling Granger closer to herself.
They dropped their wands, hands raised in the air, but Draco clutched his harder, inching around the coach to get closer to Bellatrix. Only his mother had seen him stun his father. If he could just…
He stopped. A light creaking was coming from above. He glanced up at the crystal chandelier, shocked to see a house-elf sitting atop the extravagant frame. Not just any house-ef, but Dobby, his old servant, was dutifully unscrewing a bolt. His eyes widened in realization just as the chandelier gave a tremendous shudder and began to crash. Thousands of crystals came smashing down, an explosion of glass littering the air.
Bellatrix shrieked and threw herself out of the way, pushing Granger down to the floor. Instinctively, he shouted.
"ACCIO GRANGER." She shot towards him, barely avoiding being crushed by the massive chandelier. Her body collided with his, sending them flying backwards into the wall, glittering shards of crystal piercing them both. He hissed as he brought his hands up to cover his bloody face.
Potter and Weasley had dived in his direction as the chandelier had come down, and were now crowded around Granger. He heaved her small frame off of him, depositing her in the arms of Weasley.
"Draco!" Bellatrix screamed. "Blood-traitor! You dare help them?"
Greyback growled, lunging at them arms outstretched, but was repelled by some sort of invisible shield. He doubled over on the ground, stunned. Dobby walked into the room, bat-like ears bouncing wildly.
"You shall not harm Harry Potter!" he squeaked.
Bellatrix growled.
"You insolent monkey! Kill him, Cissy!" But there was a deafening crack, and his mother's wand was thrown into the air and into Dobby's outstretched palm.
"How dare you take a wand from your master!" she shrieked.
"Dobby has no master! Dobby is a free elf and has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!" the little elf retorted. He grabbed hold of Potter's wrist, who frantically fumbled to take hold of Granger. Draco quickly mirrored him, summoning Griphook's unconscious form into his grasp.
"Shell's Cottage, Dobby," he heard Potter whisper, and suddenly the world around them was spinning out of view. He saw the frozen figure of his mother, pale in the aftermath of destruction, and the flash of silver of his aunt's knife, flying across the room towards their disapparating forms. It whirled through the drawing room, desperately trying to reach them before they vanished.
The drawing room disappeared, and suddenly Draco was being jostled through space, tightening his grip on the goblin's leg. His head was knocked into Weasley's, noses colliding, and his hand jerked Granger forward, sending them spinning in the air.
And as suddenly as it began, it stopped, and his knees struck the earth, a battering of salty air assaulting his senses. He blinked.
Impaled in his stomach was Bellatrix's silver knife. He groaned, barely registering Potter's frantic movements. The sky was going dark, twinkling stars fading out of existence. With a shudder, his eyes rolled back into his head, falling backwards onto the sand. They had arrived at Shell Cottage.