Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter!

Chapter Twenty-Seven: The Truth
……………………………………………………………

'One,' Harry says as they walk.

'What?'

'There's only going to be one peg,' Harry says. 'Don't you see? Voldemort isn't an idiot. He knows that the more people there are at the end, the better the chance that they'll get the Horcrux.'

He feels like an idiot, because he hadn't thought of that. It makes perfect sense, of course. But … does that mean Harry has to go on by himself? In this DEATH TRAP?

Oh, Merlin.

He doesn't really know what to say to Harry then. "Good luck" doesn't seem appropriate. "Don't die" doesn't feel right, either.

'D'you think Hermione's okay?' he asks.

'Of course she is,' Harry says, and doesn't sound sure. 'I mean ... she was okay enough to argue with us about going back, wasn't she?'

'Yeah,' he says. 'Yeah, she was. Still …'

He doesn't finish his sentence, because he feels Harry's hand on him, telling him to stop.

'This is it,' Harry says.

Sure enough, a single plank appears, taunting them with everything it symbolizes.

He curses and looks at Harry, and even though he knows that this has to happen, that it has to be Harry who goes on (not just because he is the "Chosen One", but also because he has a better chance of actually getting the Horcrux and making it back alive), Ron doesn't want him to. He'd much rather go along, because, as much as he hates the idea that they have to go through this trouble of finding these Horcruxes, he hates the idea that Harry, ultimately, has to do it alone even more. It's just not fair that one person should be burdened with so much.

'Wish me luck, I guess,' Harry says, and then makes to move forward.

He can't stop himself; before he even realizes what he is doing, he is reaching out and hugging Harry, something that he can't remember ever doing before.

Harry hesitates for a moment before awkwardly putting an arm around him, and they embrace like brothers, because that's what they are, what they have always been.

And it feels as if he is seeing everything for the first time, here, in this dark, smelly old tunnel. Harry has always been just Harry in his eyes. But there is no such thing as "just" Harry. This boy, the one he split a bag of Every Flavoured Beans with on their first train ride to Hogwarts and who was Captain of the Quidditch team and who dated his baby sister … this boy is going to save the world.

He knows this, of course. He has always known this. But he hadn't realized it until just now.

This is sort of like the first time he looked up and saw Hermione as something other than his sometimes-annoying, too-smart-for-her-own-good best friend.

He lets go of Harry, feeling like an even bigger idiot now, because he's probably just given Harry the impression that he doesn't think Harry will make it back.

And maybe he won't.

'Good luck,' he says, and then watches as Harry crosses the plank.

……………………………………………………………

The man who spent his days wearing someone else's face crept out of his room, clutching his wand tightly, and went outside. He looked around; making sure his houseguest hadn't stirred and followed him outside to see what was going on. Upon seeing that he had managed to slip away undetected, he Disapparated with a Crack!

'I've been waiting,' said a voice. A man stepped out of the shadows.

'I know, Lucius. But I had to be sure that Weasley was asleep before I left. Wouldn't want him to get suspicious, would we?' He sighed and looked around. 'Is it safe?'

'Of course it is,' said Lucius. 'Now, give me your progress report.'

……………………………………………………………

'This is ridiculous,' he declares.

'Yeah, well … We can always take matters into our own hands,' Fred says in a low voice.

'What d'you mean?' he asks.

His brothers exchange glances and George beams. 'We can take the Muggle car. We can fly to Harry and rescue him ourselves.'

'You think?'

'Harry can be here by morning,' says Fred.

'HARRY'S COMING?'

'Keep your voice down, Ginny!' Fred hisses.

'You said Harry was going to be here in the morning!' she squeals.

'He's not coming here at all, because you're obsessed with him and he hates you,' George tells her.

Ginny's mouth falls open in shock, and then, before the tears come, Fred says, 'Go to bed!'

His sister is gone now, and Fred and George are looking at him with identical glints of mischief in their eyes.

'We're going to be in a load of trouble when we get back,' he says, as if this is a reason not to go. But it's Harry, and Harry would do the same thing for him.

'Yeah,' Fred says with a smile.

'Let's go,' says George.

……………………………………………………………

'It isn't working, you say?'

'No, Lucius. I don't think it is.'

'Well, that just won't do,' said Lucius.

'I know. But I've tried everything. There's nothing we can do to keep him from remembering.'

Lucius smirked. 'There is one thing,' he said.

'Yes, but … I thought that was our last resort. The Dark Lord said –'

'I am aware of what the Dark Lord said. However, if Weasley is getting his memories back as rapidly as you say he is, I see no other option. How can we use his strength to our advantage if he starts to regain his identity halfway through our "training program"? We must do it.'

'Fine. I'll do it as soon as I get back to the house. Weasley's staying with me – I mean, Joe – after all. It's the perfect opportunity.'

'Excellent,' said Lucius. 'You should go now. The sooner we get rid of this problem, the better. Am I right, Amycus?'

Amycus Carrow grinned and took a swig of the potion he carried with him. He braced himself for the feeling he had become somewhat used to over the passing weeks. He no longer cringed at the potion's taste, and he no longer doubled over as the first wave of burning hit him. When the transformation was complete, his nose had shrunk and his eyes had become slightly more spaced apart, changing to a light green. His hair had grown longer, thicker and curlier than before, turning a very light shade of blonde. His jaw had squared slightly; his cheeks now appeared less hollow, his eyes less sunken in.

He cleared his throat.

'You're very right,' said Amycus. His accent was nearly gone now, and his voice was different, not as deep and certainly not as aggressive. 'I must be off.'

Lucius nodded curtly.

With that, Joe Disapparated away from the place Amycus Carrow had Apparated to mere moments before.

……………………………………………………………

'We won!' he yells as Harry enters the common room. 'Four hundred and fifty to a hundred and forty! We won!' He waves the cup around, feeling proud because he actually contributed to this victory, because this is one thing that Harry hasn't held his hand through.

But Harry isn't looking at him. It's not really clear who he's looking at, really. It looks like it might be … no, Harry isn't allowed to look at Ginny with that expression …

The next few seconds happen in slow-motion, it feels. He isn't sure what is going on. Harry is kissing his sister, right out in the open, for all of Gryffindor to see. He is so bloody confused. Who would want to kiss Ginny? Well, other than Dean … and Michael … and … okay, so maybe he's noticed that his baby sister has attracted some attention. But since when is Harry interested in her? And why hasn't Harry ever said anything before? They're supposed to be best mates.

He looks around the room and sees that everyone is watching them. Dean looks about ready to wring Harry's neck and Hermione is grinning from ear to ear, as if she has been expecting this all along. Why does nobody ever bother to clue him in on these things? Lavender is looking wistful, as if she misses snogging him like that. She looks up and catches his eye, so he looks back at Harry and Ginny, to avoid having to get into a discussion with her. He doesn't want to get back together with her. He doesn't even know why he bothered with her in the first place.

Harry finally pulls away from Ginny and looks up. He doesn't know what he will do when their eyes meet. He isn't upset. He's sort of relieved, in a way. Harry is decent. Well, Dean is decent, too. But Harry would be better for Ginny because … because he's Harry. It isn't a good logic but it makes sense to him, so when Harry catches his eye, he half-nods his approval. When they leave – he doesn't think he wants to know where they're going and what they're going to do when they get there – he sits with Hermione and listens to her babble on and on about how she's caught Harry staring at Ginny twice this week and that she just knew this would happen eventually.

'Hermione,' he says, and she stops her rant to look up. 'Quit talking about Harry and tell me about how spectacular my saves were.'

He is only half-kidding and Hermione must know that, just like she knows everything else there ever is to know about him, because she smiles warmly and says, 'You were spectacular, Ron.' —

Ron awoke and sat up in his bed, then abruptly fell onto his back again, as images of another life hit him like a wall: An awkward-looking house just outside of Ottery St Catchpole; a small girl with red hair, crying because her brothers teased her; flying in a car with twin redheads; a castle with trick stairs and ghosts and talking portraits.

A boy with messy hair and glasses, one who had more courage than Godric Gryffindor himself and who spent almost as much time in the Hospital Wing as Madam Promfrey.

And a girl.

A girl who smiled at him almost as much as she shouted, who lectured him until he thought he'd go mad. A girl who never got anything less than "Outstanding" on every essay she ever turned in. A girl he loved more than anything else in the entire bloody world.

He heard a creak and his eyes flew to his door just in time to see the knob turn.

'Joe?' Ron rasped, forcing himself to sit up. 'Thank Merlin you're here. I … what're you doing?'

Joe smiled eerily and lowered his wand. 'I thought I heard you cry out. I came to see if everything was okay. Is everything okay?'

Ron wanted to tell him. He wanted to tell him everything about the dreams, about Hermione and Harry and Ginny.

But he was hesitant. He didn't know if he could trust Joe. And it was terrible, really, because Joe hadn't ever been anything but overly friendly to him. He'd showed Ron around town and helped him come up with a background story for when people asked where he'd come from. Hell, he'd let Ron live with him.

Still, he couldn't deny the fact that something about Joe didn't sit well with him, had never really sat well with him.

'Ron?'

'Huh?' Ron asked, snapping out of his thoughts. 'Sorry, what?'

'I asked if you were okay. Honestly, you're acting all spotty. What's going on?'

Ron shrugged. 'Nothing,' he said, deciding that it would be easier if he didn't tell Joe anything. If he told his story, he would have to spend quite a bit of time explaining everything. He wouldn't be able to make a move until morning, maybe even later than that. If he didn't, he could leave a note saying goodbye and slip away. He would get back home faster that way.

'You're sure?'

'Yeah,' he said.

They stared at each other for several long moments until Joe nodded, said goodnight, and left.

And although Joe had said he was going to bed, Ron didn't hear the sound of retreating footsteps down the hall. He grabbed his wand off the nightstand and climbed out of bed, and before he'd even realized what he was doing, he was arranging his pillows to make it look as though he was still under the covers, and then creeping across the room and standing in the corner, hidden by the shadows.

He wasn't sure what he expected, but when Joe opened his door and crept back in a little more than half an hour later, a part of him wasn't surprised. He held his breath and watched as Joe pointed his wand in the direction of his bed and whispered 'Avada –'

'Expelliarmus!' he cried. Joe's wand flew onto the bed and Joe spun around, his eyes wide and his mouth hanging open in shock.

Did that really just happen?

It must have. The only other option was that Ron was going crazy … and he didn't like that idea one bit.

Joe had tried to kill him. Why?

Joe dove to the bed and grabbed his wand before Ron could react.

'Who – who are you?' asked Ron. Joe said nothing. 'You called me Ron. How did you know –?'

'Can't you guess?' questioned Joe. 'I'm the reason you're here.'

Ron's head was spinning. 'You – your name isn't Joe, is it?'

'You've finally figured it out, have you?'

'Who are you?' Ron demanded.

'Does it matter?'

'Yes,' Ron growled, gripping his wand. This was the man who'd taken him away from his family. All this time, he'd pretended to be Ron's friend. 'I want to know who I'm about to murder.'

The other man laughed. 'You think you'll murder me? I could kill you without even batting an eye.'

'Probably,' said Ron, thinking logically for possibly the first time in his life. 'But you've had more than a few opportunities before now. You must have been keeping me around for something.'

'I was, yes. But you are no longer needed.'

'But I was needed before,' he urged. 'I want to know why. And I want to know what's changed.'

'The war is over,' said the other man. 'The Dark Lord has emerged victorious. You are of no use to him anymore.'

The Dark Lord? It made sense, of course. Who else but You-Know-Who would go throw all the trouble of sending Ron halfway across the world, when he could've just killed him and been done with it?

But You-Know-Who hadn't won. He couldn't have won. This man was lying. He was messing with Ron's head … and it was working.

'He won, huh?' Ron said, stalling as he tried to come up with a plan, a way out. 'I don't believe that for a minute.'

'It doesn't matter what you believe. You'll be dead soon, anyway. The Dark Lord has given the order, and I will follow through with it.'

'What, he's not going to do it himself?' Ron asked, feeling the panic rising inside of him. 'Oh, I suppose he's too busy off somewhere killing all the Muggles and good, honest wizards. Tell me, though. Once he's killed everyone who isn't good enough, do you think he'll be satisfied? No. He'll start picking off his followers.'

'Then I will die with honour, because I have served my Lord.'

'I don't think you'll be so honourable when you're staring down the end of Voldemort's wand,' Ron taunted.

'Do not say his name!'

'Why not? He's only a person, after all … nothing special about him whatsoever,' Ron said, realizing for the first time why Harry and Hermione and Ginny always said his name. 'Did you know that he's a half-blood? His father was a Muggle. Makes him a right foul hypocrite, wouldn't you say?'

'SHUT YOUR MOUTH!'

'Why? What're you going to do?' asked Ron. 'Take me away from my friends and family? Hold me hostage? Try to kill me? You've done you're worst already. And you've failed.'

'Come here.'

'What will Voldemort think when he finds out that his servant was bested by a Weasley? I bet that'll really stick in his side. You're lucky you won't be around to witness it firsthand.'

'Come here.'

'Why?'

'Because we are going to duel,' said the other man … the Death Eater. 'I assume you understand what that entails. I certainly hope you are better than your pathetic father was, at any rate.'

Ron tensed. 'What did you say? What about my dad?'

The Death Eater laughed sharply. 'Oh, don't worry. Your father is with your dear old mum now.'

'My mum?' Ron repeated, and he could hear the fear in his own voice. 'What happened to my parents? What did you do to them?'

He was met with a sneer.

'Tell me!' Ron demanded. 'Tell me right now.'

'I would like to tell you that they went peacefully but … well, I wouldn't want to lie to you. Their deaths were rather messy.'

Ron was choking on his own panic. His parents? This was a lie. They couldn't be dead!

'Your mother didn't even have to die,' the Death Eater continued. 'She was trying to save that brat … the other bitch with red hair.'

'Ginny is not a bitch!'

'Ah, yes, Ginny,' he said. 'That was her name. I vaguely recall Potter screaming it. But does it matter? She's not really anything now,' he gloated. 'I was aiming for the Mudblood, see. But I hit the littlest Weasel instead. Don't worry, though. Severus took care of the Mudblood. Got the wolf, too, he did.'

Ron's knees suddenly felt weak. Oh, no. Oh, Merlin. This wasn't happening. This was a bad dream. This was … no. He was going to wake up and it was going to be the morning of Bill's wedding, and he would have time to save everyone.

'You're a liar,' he said, because it couldn't be true. His parents and Ginny couldn't be dead. Hermione couldn't be dead.

'Don't call me a liar.'

'Then don't lie!'

'Shall we settle this with a duel?' the Death Eater challenged. 'Unless you don't think you can keep up.'

'Is that how Voldemort does it, then? Makes his Death Eaters do all of his bidding?' asked Ron. 'Well, I wouldn't expect anything else from him.'

'The Dark Lord is the greatest wizard in the world and –'

'HARRY POTTER IS THE GREATEST WIZARD IN THE WORLD!'

'Harry Potter was a silly boy who thought he could beat the Dark Lord at his own game,' the Death Eater said calmly, pointing his wand square at Ron's face. 'He failed miserably, of course. Nobody goes up against the Dark Lord and lives to tell about it for long.'

'Harry couldn't have failed,' Ron said. 'I would know. It would be all over the papers.'

'It only just happened,' he said, unfazed. 'I expect the Ministry in London doesn't even know it yet. Oh, I would love to be there when they discover that their beloved Harry Potter is dead.'

'Harry Potter isn't dead.'

'Oh, but he is. I had the pleasure of witnessing it myself. He took an awful long time to go, but he is dead, nonetheless. Now,' he said brightly. 'We duel.'

Ron didn't know what to believe. The only thing he knew was that he definitely wasn't getting out alive unless he fought.

If Hermione and Harry and his family were gone, though … did he really want to live? Then again, this man could be lying to him. And as long as there was the hope that his loved ones were all still alive and well, Ron would fight.

'Fine,' he said. 'But we're skipping the pleasantries.'

'Oh, but I do so enjoy those,' the man said dryly. 'Taran—'

'Protego!' Ron said instantly. 'A-Avada –'

'Crucio!'

Ron was not aware that he collapsed on the floor. He was not aware that he was screaming at the top of his lungs. All he knew was that this pain was a million times worse than anything he had ever imagined or experienced before. Harry wasn't kidding when he said it would make someone pray for death. Had Ginny felt this? Oh, he hoped not …

The curse was lifted, thankfully, almost as quickly as he was subjected to it.

'You know, Weasley,' said the man, 'I had always pegged you as someone who followed the rules of fair play. Let me make something clear: you do not attempt Unforgivables, and I will not perform Unforgivables. Not until I've have my fun, at least. Do we understand each other?'

Ron grunted and got up off the floor. 'No deal. Give me your worst.'

He took off into a run. He was being chased by an angry Death Eater who wanted nothing more than to throw the Killing Curse at him and be done with it. The scariest thing, by far, had to be the fact that Ron was nearly positive he could kill almost as easily as the man in the next room.

'Stupefy!'

'Protego!' Ron yelled, spinning around just in time to see the Death Eater come into the room after him. 'Reducto!'

The Death Eater ducked and the curse soared past him, knocking out a large portion of the wall.

Ron lived with Ginny and his mum long enough to know when to run, and so he ran out of the room and hid around the corner, throwing a Trip Jinx at the Death Eater as he rushed by.

'Enough playing around,' he snarled. He threw out a curse that Ron had never heard before. Ron jumped out of the way and watched as the couch behind him was sliced in half.

'Expelliarmus!'

The Death Eater's wand flew out of his hand and they both lunged for it. But the Death Eater was quicker, and he grabbed the wand before Ron could reach it.

'Incendio!'

The curtains behind Ron caught on fire and Ron had half a mind to put them out, but then there was another spell fired at him, and all he could think to do was protect himself.

He couldn't seem to think of a spell, though, and briefly wondered why he had to pick now, of all moments, to forget everything he'd learned in the DA.

He did the only thing that seemed logical – he threw out his fist and let it connect with the other man's face.

Soon, they were both punching and kicking, rolling around on the floor. Ron couldn't figure out why anyone would ever duel with wands, because it was so much more satisfying to simply beat your fists against your enemy.

After the other man got in a few good shots, Ron was starting to think that maybe wands were safer, after all. He got up, too focused on getting away to notice how he wobbled on his feet, and clutched his wand tightly.

In school, whenever Malfoy had challenged him, Ron hated backing down. In any situation, really, he hated giving in, accepting defeat. But now, against someone who was far more experienced and who wouldn't hesitate to cause him unimaginable pain, all he could do was wait for a chance to hightail it out of there.

And he had always secretly yearned for a chance to prove himself, for something he could do without Harry, but this was not the time to have pride, and even someone as stubborn as him could see that.

He cast a Bat-Bogey Hex, hoping for the chance to run away while his opponent was distracted. But Ginny had always been the expert on that, not him. The jinx was weak and barely anything happened.

'Furnunculus!'

'Impedimenta!'

'Protego!'

'Crucio!'

Ron didn't remember running down the corridor and into the kitchen, but he was glad he did. He dove behind the table and it was blown apart by the curse.

He jumped up from behind the remains of a chair and saw that his opponent's hair had become a different colour. The Polyjuice Potion he took must have been wearing off. The man doubled over and Ron saw his opportunity.

'Locomotor Mortis!'

The Death Eater never saw it coming. His legs locked and he collapsed, his mouth an 'O' of shock. He started to shout something – probably the Killing Curse – but Ron, for once, was faster.

'Stupefy!'

The Death Eater's eyes fluttered shut and Ron finally felt his knees go weak. He dropped to the floor and pulled himself over to the Death Eater, grabbing his wand. He snapped it in half, the only thing he could think of that would protect him if, for some reason, his enemy was to wake before Ron was ready.

'Incarcerous,' Ron choked out. He waited a moment and made sure that the man could go nowhere before saying, 'Ennervate.'

The Death Eater's eyes slowly popped open, and he struggled against the bindings, but he didn't move. Ron examined his face. He had seen him before – they had had brief encounters during the Battle at Hogwarts and, now that he thought about it, at the wedding, too – but Ron did not know this man's name.

'I've got you,' Ron panted. 'Now, you're going to answer my questions.'

'I –'

'Silencio. I don't want to hear it. You'll answer my questions with the truth, and I'll consider letting you live,' Ron said. 'First off, what use am I to Voldemort?'

He lifted the Silencing Charm.

'I … I don't know.'

'Yes, you do!' Ron yelled, and then punched him.

The Death Eater fought against the invisible ropes for a moment before stilling. 'I don't know anything,' he maintained.

'You're a liar,' Ron said.

Shite, this wasn't going to go anywhere. Ron needed to get this bloke to talk. He needed … Veritaserum.

He had lived with Joe – no, it had never been Joe, he told himself – long enough to know where certain potions were kept. Now that he thought about it, it was the same place his mum kept them.

His mum didn't have Veritaserum in her collection, of course, but she didn't have much of anything, other than minor first aid potions, to begin with.

He got up and rushed to the cupboard that the potions were stored in, and was shocked by how many of them looked as if they housed Dark contents. How had he not picked up on the hints before? What kind of person kept such things lying around the house?

After rummaging through them for a moment, he thanked Merlin that he'd paid a little bit of attention in at least a few Potions Classes, because he was able to recognize Veritaserum fairly easily.

He went back to where he'd left the Death Eater and was more than a little relieved to see that he hadn't escaped somehow. Ron knelt down and, after a struggle, poured a liberal amount of the potion into the man's mouth. The man wouldn't swallow, however, and Ron was forced to plug his nose – if the man wanted to breathe again, he'd have to swallow sometime.

The man put up a valiant effort, but, eventually, he swallowed.

'What is your name?' Ron asked, after giving it a moment to kick in. He tried to remember everything Harry had ever told him about the encounter with the fake Mad-Eye Moody after the Triwizard Tournament.

'I won't – I – no –'

'What is your name?'

'I … Amycus Carrow.'

'Who are you loyal to?'

'Th-the Dark Lord.'

'Did he tell you to kill me tonight?'

'Indirectly.'

'What does that mean?'

'I have been meeting with Lucius Malfoy once a week to update him on our progress.'

'So … Malfoy gave you the order?' asked Ron.

'Yes,' said Amycus.

'Why didn't you just kill me in the first place?'

'We – he wanted to use you,' Amycus said.

'Who is he?'

'The Dark Lord.'

'And how did he plan on using me?'

'The Imperius Cruse. I was instructed to erase your memory and then put you under the Imperius.'

'If you had succeeded, what would you have made me do?' Ron inquired.

'I was to train you to fight for our side,' gasped Amycus. 'We were going to use you to hurt Potter.'

'Hurt him how?'

'Attack him. Make him think you'd turned to our side,' said Amycus. 'Make him weak, both physically and mentally. The Dark Lord would do the rest.'

Ron paused for a moment. 'Is Harry Potter dead?'

'He is still alive.'

Ron sighed in relief. 'Is the war over?'

'No. It is far from over.'

'Why did Lucius Malfoy order you to kill me tonight?'

'I realized that you were remembering more and more, and that your mind was working against the Memory Modifying Charms we'd preformed. When I passed my concerns on to Lucius, he said that we couldn't take the chance. He told me to eliminate you.'

'A-are my parents dead?'

'No.'

'What about my sister? Ginny?'

'She is alive.'

'My brothers? They're alive?'

'All of them.'

'And Hermione?' asked Ron, knowing that the next answer he received would be the most important one.

'I don't know who that is.'

'I – the Mudblood,' he said, cringing. 'You said Snape killed her. Is that true?'

'No.'

'You lied, then?'

'Yes.'

Ron took a moment to collect himself.

'You said your name was Amycus?' he asked.

'Yes,' said the Death Eater.

'What did you do with the real Joe, Amycus?'

'Joe is dead,' said Amycus.

'Who killed him?'

'Keeping him alive grew to be too difficult. I killed him last week.'

'Did you like that?' asked Ron. 'Did you enjoy killing him?'

'Yes, actually, I did.'

'You sick fuck!' Ron cried.

He looked around, trying to come up with more questions to ask. He noticed that the fire had nearly reached the doorway to kitchen. He didn't have much time left. Deciding that it wasn't worth the risk, he stood up.

'That's about all I want to know,' Ron said.

Ron wondered how he should deal with this situation at hand. If he let Amycus go back to Voldemort, he'd be chained up and tortured to insanity before Ron got back to The Burrow.

But Ron hated this man. He hated him more than he'd ever hated anyone else in his entire life. And didn't someone as terrible as this deserve that sort of end?

Still, he couldn't let Amycus go.

Voldemort would punish him – probably extensively. But Voldemort might give him the chance to redeem himself. He might make Amycus do something huge to prove himself again … and Ron couldn't let him hurt anyone else. Ron knew who the target would be next time and he'd sooner die than have Hermione go through this.

That, really, was what it came down to. It was between Hermione and this stranger.

In his mind's eye, he could picture Hermione, lying in the Hospital Wing after the Department of Mysteries. He could hear Harry's voice echoing in his head, saying, When Dolohov hit her with that curse … I thought she was dead, Ron. I really did.

And although Dolohov had been the one to hurt Hermione that time, he wasn't the only one who'd wanted to. This bloke clearly didn't object to torturing Ron and killing Joe. What would he do to Hermione – the one with the Muggle parents, the one they probably considered a "weak, little girl" – if he had the chance?

He took one last look around and then Disapparated to the safe outdoors, away from the fire, knowing that Amycus had no way of escaping, and knowing that he'd be halfway home by the time anyone discovered that there had been a fire at Joe's house that night.

……………………………………………………………

Ah, the moment we've all been waiting for.