Chapter Trigger Warnings: torture

Chapter 123:

Identification Dodging

If it was miserable at the manor before, now it was downright dreadful. Especially given the ever–increasing visits by the "higher ranking" Death Eaters, and by the Dark Lord himself. The Dark Lord was becoming more – well, unstable wasn't the word for it.

She was serving all…ranks, all sorts. Even those Mr. Malfoy claimed were "far beneath proper pureblood society" – he didn't seem to care about…lending her out to them. Them, on top of her regular duties and the bond's seemingly increasing demands…she was outright exhausted.

As she was bringing a tray up to the office, she felt a burning on her mark, so suddenly and so fiercely that she dropped the basket and bent over in immediate pain. She found the bond mark and pressed into it. For once, she couldn't even tell who was summoning her. So she simply pressed into the bond mark as a whole and hoped it would take her where she needed to be.

She landed hard on the marble floor of the former ballroom – now turned into a larger drawing room. She looked up, blinking blearily, and froze. The room was filled with people. Some she expected – all three Malfoys, Bellatrix, Greyback, and a few she hadn't – some Snatchers and worse – three very familiar Gryffindors.

"Her? Your pathetic servant girl?"

"She's spent the past years at Hogwarts. Even befriended Potter – supposedly," Lucius replied, though to whom he was replying to, she couldn't fully say.

Suddenly, she felt nails in her hair, dragging her to her feet. She scrabbled for footing as she was pulled forward, underneath the chandelier – directly in front of Harry.

"Identify him."

"I can't, Sir. Not with his face like that, Sir."

"For Merlin's sake, can't someone in this bloody house do something right?"

"You know better, girl. Come on then, identify them. Properly. Is it or isn't it?"

She swallowed hard. Ariella felt her insides twist. "Yes. It's them."

She could hear arguing behind her. Over what, she couldn't say. It wasn't clear. She tried her best not to make eye contact with them. As the screaming continued – mostly Bellatrix, she realized – Ariella tried to back away.

She didn't make it far before her back met with a pair of legs. She chanced a glance up, allowing herself to feel the briefest moment of relief. He wasn't looking at her. But as Greyback began escorting Harry and Ron down towards the dungeons, she saw him – as discreetly as he could – gesture towards the stairs. As she began to get up, she felt something poke her back. Causing as little attention as possible, she felt behind her, pulling a key from his pant leg. She slid it into her sleeve and obeyed.

She caught Mr. Malfoy eyeing her, but luckily, he said nothing as she descended the dark, steep stairwell, grabbing the lantern on her way. She unlocked the heavy cellar door, pushing it open.

She found six pairs of eyes staring at her.

"I'm sorry. I didn't want to."

"It's not your fault. You didn't have a choice."

"Ron, your sister's okay, by the way. Thought you should know."

He nodded to her. "Thank you.

They heard Hermione scream again. Ariella leant against the door, pushing it wider.

"You'd better go. I'll try to start the fireplace in the hallway next to the drawing room. Just tell me where," she said, just as she heard footsteps behind her. She closed it again, locking it and inching into a side alcove in the stairwell, making it just as Draco's pale face came into view. She stepped out behind him as he spoke, reopening the cellar door despite him being perfectly capable himself.

"I need the goblin. Now. Don't try anything."

He gave her a curt nod to her and dragged the little goblin by the arm out of the cellar and up the stairs. He ignored the cellar door.

"I'll go ahead to open the fireplace," she said, just as Hermione screamed again.

Harry and Ron to pushed past her up the stairs towards their friend, Ron shouting after her "Shell Cottage!"

She moved as quickly as she could, hearing Luna, Dean, and Mr. Ollivander behind her. It wasn't far, but she still hoped she would be quick enough to be of use.

She could hear shouting continuing upstairs. She was scared, but knew she had an unofficial job to do. She knelt before the fireplace and grabbed the basket of floo powder, waiting as ready as she could for the escapees.

Or she was when Wormtail around the corner and advanced on her. She felt the metal hand closing around her arm. She winced, barely cutting off a yell.

"What do you think you're doing, girl?"

She whimpered involuntarily. She could hear outright fighting now. The metal arm was tightening. She began to see spots.

Suddenly, he dropped her. She blinked, looking up to see Luna holding the fire pick and standing over them. Dean was right behind her, supporting Mr. Olivander.

Ariella grabbed a handful of floo powder and threw it into the fireplace, yelling only as loud as she dared "Shell Cottage!"

The fireplace foared to life, allowing the first three guests to pass through. She then turned, pocketing some extra floo powder into a pouch and, making sure that Wormtail was unconscious, and that the fireplace was open, she made her way back to the main gathering room.

Peeking inside, she saw that Bellatrix held a blade to Hermione's neck and was in the middle of ordering Harry and Ron to drop their wands, which Draco picked up. As quietly as she could, she crept towards where Harry hid behind an armchair. She slid the bag into his hand – just in case – before moving to remove her shoe. The servant knew she would pay for what she had done, and what she was about to do, but right now…right now, there were more important things.

She threw the shoe at Bellatrix. It wasn't hard, but it was enough to get her to release Hermione. She caught a glimpse of Ron going to help Hermione as she ducked back down. Harry went the opposite way to…well, she didn't know what.

She heard frantic footsteps and removed her other shoe and threw that, too, hoping to buy them some more time. The noise of voices, overturning furniture, spells – of the fighting in general – was overwhelming.

"Where's the key?" a voice suddenly whispered in her ear. She whipped around to find her young master, pale, cut up, even trembling a bit, but safe, next to her. She slid it back to him. He nodded in relief.

"You obeyed. Good," he said curtly, before standing tall. She couldn't tell for whose benefit those words were for.

Suddenly, a loud crack filled the room. She winced.

"Where is he?"

Terror filled her. She knew that cold, enraged tone.

"My Lord, he was here, with his blood-traitor and Mudblood friends."

"I'll ask again, Lucius. Do not try my patience. Where is Potter?"

"Gone, my Lord. He escaped."

If she thought the noise, the fear was bad earlier, it was nothing to what the Dark Lord unleashed at those words.