Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or any of the related characters. The Harry Potter series is created by JK Rowling. This fanfiction is intended for entertainment only. I am not making any profit from this story… As always…

PS: This is chapter 6. As I'm still a student and the new term's about to start, it's quite difficult for me to continue writing. Perhaps this is the second to last or the last chapter…

Chapter 6

Confirmed now - they did find the sword in the woods where they were camping.

Now there is only one thing left.

True or fake?

Ashamed though I was to admit it to myself, it was true that I couldn't discern between a true sword and a fake sword. Besides, the most I could see of the sword in her memory was that ginger holding it. She did not have any particular ideas or feel any strong emotions towards the genuineness of the sword.

I should have questioned the blood traitor first… But never mind it now…

The goblin.

I stood up and pointed my wand at the goblin leaning against the doorframe.

Crack!

"What was that?" shouted Lucius. I looked around, alarmed. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?"

I stopped in my tracks, listening for any more noises. Nothing was making a sound.

Not even the Mudblood.

It could just have been something breaking… But that sound, that very sound had struck me as a much more ominous thing - someone Apparating or Disapparating.

"Draco - no, call Wormtail!" Lucius was saying, "Make him go and check!"

As Draco got to his feet and went off to find Wormtail, I gazed in panic at the goblin. I had wasted so much time… And what if… What if by some miracle Potter had managed to escape?

Wormtail came out of a broom cupboard, panting slightly. Without I word, Lucius pointed a finger at the cellar. Wormtail hurried towards the passageway at once.

"You had trained him well, Bellatrix," said Lucius lazily. I did not answer. I was still looking at the goblin, a thousand thoughts running across my head…

I must hurry up.

"Rennervate!"

The goblin woke. He peered warily at me for a second and then closed his eyes, slumping back onto the ground. I kicked him to the middle of the drawing room, next to Mudblood who shifted her head to look at the proceedings.

"What is it, Wormtail?" called Lucius.

"Nothing! All fine!" was the reply.

I frowned as Lucius smiled knowingly. There have been too many interruptions tonight, and there must not be any more.

"Goblin!" I stated, resuming the authority of my voice, "I am going to ask you a question, and I expect you to answer truthfully. If you don't," I directed my wand at the Mudblood, "Watch."

"Crucio!"

The room was refilled with her fresh screams, as every corner of my mind, every trouble in my brain, every worry about the Dark Lord, about Potter was wiped blissfully away. So melodious was the sound that for that instant I forgot where I was or what I was doing or the urgency of my present situation. I even forgot who I was… I burst out laughing, for I could not control myself; I could not be myself anymore… I was not Madam Lestrange… I was Bellatrix… His Bellatrix…

But no…

The goblin.

The Mudblood.

She's about to break!

"PLEASE!" she begged as I lifted the curse, "PLEASE! KILL ME!"

Ignoring her as I always had, I turned to the goblin, "If you don't, you will be like her."

The goblin did not flinch or show any signs of struggle. He simply looked up at me and said, "What is your query, Madam Lestrange?"

Don't call me Madam Lestrange… I hate that name…

With a flick of my wand, I slashed a deep cut across his face and he fell onto the carpet, howling in pain. "I want you to tell me whether this is the true sword or a fake," I said clearly and coldly, handing him the sword.

The goblin took it without a word. He clutched it in his long-fingered hands, stroking it, tapping it with his knuckles. I waited impatiently, and so did Greyback, who had leapt up, watching the Mudblood with an almost obscene expression.

"Well?" I asked after several minutes, "Is it the true sword?"

"No," said the goblin, "It is a fake."

"Are you sure? Quite sure?"

"Yes."

Finally…

"Good!" I turned to the Mudblood, who was not moving, and said in a triumphant voice, "And now, we call the Dark Lord!"

I stretched out my left arm. The Dark Mark, though dark, stood out so brightly against the blinding light from the chandelier. He will come… He will come to me… I am his most faithful…

Greyback's grunts cut off my dreams. Oh yes, I had forgotten.

"And I think," I glanced at Greyback, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

I wheeled about, but before I could hold my wand steady again there came another shout, and the dusty form of the Weasley boy materialized out of the dark passageway.

"Expelliarmus!"

My wand flew out of my hand and was caught by Potter, who had sprinted upstairs as well. Around me, jets of red lights soared between wand tips, mingled with cries of spells and yelps of pain. Lucius had collapsed under Potter's wand. I searched in my pocket for any spare wand, but there was none. Instead, my fingers closed upon the sharp blade of the silver knife.

I seized my chance. As Potter rolled behind a sofa for shelter, I slid across the smooth marble floor of the drawing room. The Mudblood was lying just feet away…

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"