The Hideout – Finalizing the Plan
Bellatrix stood at the head of the table, her wild grin illuminated by the dim candlelight. Her fingers traced the tip of her wand as she addressed the men before her Rodolphus, Rabastan, Rookwood, and Barty Crouch Jr.
"Potter is weak at night." Her voice was silk, but there was a dangerous edge beneath it. "He thinks he's safe, wrapped in that old house, surrounded by his precious Order." She sneered. "But he forgets… He's not the only one who knows how to slip past defenses."
Rookwood, always the strategist, leaned forward. "You're certain?"
Bellatrix's smile widened. "You doubt me?"
Rookwood held her gaze. "Breaking into Grimmauld Place is no small feat."
Rabastan scoffed. "Neither was breaking out of Azkaban, and yet"
Bellatrix let out a short, sharp laugh. "Exactly." She turned to Rookwood. "You forget, darling… We were the Dark Lord's most loyal. He told us secrets he wouldn't even share with the rest." Her eyes darkened. "And I happen to know a way into that house."
Rodolphus finally spoke. "Then we take him when he's least expecting it."
Bellatrix nodded. "We go at night. We don't give him a reason to run. We don't let him fight." She licked her lips. "We go in, we take him, and we disappear before the Order even realizes he's gone."
Barty's grin was unsettling. "And then?"
Bellatrix leaned forward, her voice a whisper. "Then… we show him what true pain is."
At Grimmauld Place, the air was thick with unease. The escape of Bellatrix and her followers had everyone on edge.
Moody had stationed additional wards, Kingsley had reinforced the Fidelius Charm, and Tonks had set up protective enchantments around Harry's room.
"We're not taking risks," Moody barked, stomping around the war room. "They want Potter, and they'll come for him." His magical eye spun wildly. "So he doesn't leave. At all."
Harry sat stiffly at the table, arms crossed. He hated this. Hated feeling like a prisoner in his own safe house.
"I can still fight," he argued.
"No one's saying you can't," Kingsley replied calmly. "But this isn't about a duel, Harry. This is about them getting their hands on you."
"They won't," Ron said firmly. "Not with all of us here."
Hermione nodded, though her fingers fidgeted against the pages of a book she wasn't reading. "We just need to stay vigilant."
Harry clenched his jaw. He hated waiting. He hated not knowing when they'd strike.
And that was exactly what Bellatrix wanted.
The house was quiet.
The only sound was the faint crackling of the dying fire in the sitting room. The wards shimmered faintly around the walls, undisturbed.
Inside his room, Harry was asleep, the weight of exhaustion finally dragging him under.
Then
A single whisper of air. A ripple in the wards.
Bellatrix Lestrange stepped through the shadows, her wand gripped tightly in her hand.
Behind her, Rodolphus, Rabastan, Rookwood, and Barty followed silently, slipping into Grimmauld Place as if they belonged there.
The wards hadn't screamed.
The Order hadn't stirred.
Because Bellatrix knew the magic protecting this house and she knew how to break it from the inside.
They moved quickly. Up the staircase, past the darkened corridors, toward their prize.
She could hear his breathing now. Slow. Unaware.
Bellatrix's lips curled.
He never even saw them coming.