The tension inside the safe house was suffocating. Everyone knew Bellatrix was coming it was no longer a question of if, but when. Despite the protective wards and constant vigilance, an uneasy feeling settled over them, as if a storm was brewing just beyond their reach.

Sirius paced near the fireplace, his frustration barely contained. "We need to move Harry somewhere safer. St. Mungo's is too exposed, and even here, we're playing a dangerous game."

Remus, seated near the map, nodded. "Agreed. If Bellatrix has even the slightest idea where we are, she won't hesitate. She's waited long enough."

Frank, standing at the edge of the room, crossed his arms. "It's not just about Harry anymore. If she's willing to go this far, she won't care who gets caught in the crossfire." His voice was firm, but there was a lingering weight in his tone.

Harry, listening from his spot near the window, finally spoke. "She's already made it clear what she wants." His voice was quiet but unwavering. "Me."

Sirius turned to him, frowning. "That doesn't mean we're handing you over, Harry."

Harry shook his head. "I'm not saying that. But we can't just keep running. Bellatrix will keep coming, and eventually, someone's going to get hurt because of me."

Neville, standing beside Frank, took a step forward. "That's not your fault, Harry. We all know what's at stake."

Doctor Stevan, who had been silent until now, finally interjected. "Harry, your body is still weak. Your magic is drained, and you haven't had enough time to fully recover. If she gets to you now…" He trailed off, his meaning clear.

Harry looked at him, then at the rest of the room. "Then we make sure she doesn't."

Sirius sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. "We need a plan. A real one."

Remus studied the map. "We move Harry. But not where she expects. Somewhere even the Death Eaters wouldn't dare to go."

Sirius frowned. "And where exactly is that?"

Frank exchanged a glance with Neville before answering.

"Somewhere Bellatrix fears."

Meanwhile…

The air in the ruined manor was thick with tension. Bellatrix sat in the center of the room, her fingers idly twirling her wand as the Death Eaters whispered among themselves. The anticipation was palpable.

Rodolphus stepped forward, his voice low. "Are we ready?"

Bellatrix's lips curled into a cruel smile. "Oh, we've been ready for years."

A low chuckle rippled through the gathering, but there was an undeniable edge to it an undercurrent of something close to fear.

Amycus Carrow sneered. "Potter's weak. He barely survived last time."

Bellatrix's smile widened, slow and deliberate. "Yes," she murmured, stepping forward, the tip of her wand dragging lightly along the surface of the wooden table before her. "He is wounded. He is tired. He is waiting for us to come for him."

Her fingers tightened around her wand. "And we will."

There was an expectant silence. The gathered Death Eaters were waiting for something more for orders, for a sign.

Rodolphus crossed his arms. "The Order won't just hand him over."

Bellatrix let out a breathy, amused laugh. "Of course not." Her voice was almost playful. "They'll fight. They'll struggle." She lifted her wand, absently flicking it toward a long-abandoned chair. It exploded into splinters. "But they cannot hide him forever."

Alecto Carrow, who had been leaning against the far wall, finally spoke. "If we make a move too soon, they'll just run again."

Bellatrix whirled on her, eyes gleaming with something wild. "Run where?" she asked, voice sharp. "The Order is predictable. They move him like a pawn on a chessboard, shifting from safe house to safe house. But no matter how far they run, they must stop somewhere."

She exhaled, her expression shifting from manic amusement to something almost terrifyingly calm. "And when they do…" Her voice was barely above a whisper.

Silence.

Rodolphus was the first to speak. "Do you know where they're taking him?"

Bellatrix let out a slow, satisfied sigh. "Not yet." She ran a finger along her wand, a wicked smile creeping across her face. "But I will."

Amycus leaned forward, intrigued. "How?"

Bellatrix turned away from them, walking toward the window. She placed a pale hand against the cracked glass, staring out into the darkness beyond.

"The Order is full of bleeding hearts," she murmured. "And Harry Potter? He attracts them like moths to a flame." She tapped her nails against the windowpane, her expression unreadable.

"They will make a mistake." She turned back to face them, her eyes glinting with something dangerous. "And when they do, we will be ready."

Her grip tightened on her wand.

"This time, there will be no escape."