CHAPTER 29

I wake up in the room that once belonged to my mother and father. Three days. Three days was all it took for me to allow Bellatrix back into my life completely. I have a problem, and I know it. Severus will be so disappointed in me. Guilt washes over me at the thought of him and how he will no doubt recognize immediately that I have allowed myself to be won over once more by my mother, but I try to force that down for now, staring at the ceiling and pretending that Severus and Bellatrix don't actually hate each other.

No one in my life will actually be happy for me if they find out that Bellatrix and I have finally put everything behind us. Well, Narcissa might be. She wants both Bellatrix and me to be happy, so she'll be pleased at the thought that we've repaired our broken relationship, especially since she was so bothered by everything I confessed to her that she told Bellatrix about it. My eyes drift to the window. Would it ever be possible for Mum to turn her back on the Dark Lord completely for me? She seems to be fighting it right now, particularly allowing him to kill me, but what would happen if she decides that I am more important?

The sun is rising, and I look to the other side of the bed where Bellatrix is sleeping. Despite trying as hard I as could last night to stay awake, I fell asleep while we were talking. We had simply been lying on the bed, discussing our vastly different childhoods and trying to put our differences behind us for good, and I fell asleep. Either she fell asleep in here as well or she simply chose to stay in here with me.

No matter which it was, I don't mind. It feels . . . well, I don't know how it feels to know that my mother and I are finally going to be all right. Perhaps I can actually be happy with her as my mother instead of constantly fighting her. I'm reveling in this new possibility when her eyes finally open and find me staring at her. She almost flinches. "How long have you been up?"

"Not long, but I would like some breakfast soon."

She sits up. "After you fell asleep last night, I made us some Danishes for breakfast."

I smile broadly at her. "You learned to make them? When?"

"A few months back," she says vaguely. "Once you've perfected the tarts—"

"After my fiasco yesterday?"

"You'll figure it out. And once you do, I'll teach you to make the Danishes."

Before I have a chance to say anything else, she gasps, grabbing my arm with one hand and holding a silver bird skull necklace with the other, her eyes frantic. "Aurelia—"

"What's happened?"

"We have to go. We have to go now." With a quick wave of her wand, our bags gravitate toward us. Once they're both in her hands, she grabs my arm, and we Disapparate. Right back to her room in Malfoy Manor.

"What's going on?" I ask again.

She holds up the necklace. "Cissy has contacted me. Something's happened." Her hands grab my face, and she stares intently into my eyes. "Listen to me." I keep my eyes trained on hers, my heart beginning to pound a bit too quickly in my chest. "I love you. I do. But I need you to stay in here."

"Here?"

"Don't leave this room. It does not matter what you hear, you must stay in here. It's for your own safety." Her eyes are glossy. "Please. Don't leave this room. I will come retrieve you as soon as I can."

I nod slowly, confused and kind of concerned by whatever might be happening that is causing her so much distress for my safety.

Mum kisses my forehead. "Stay safe."

She tries to dash out of the room, but I grab her arm. "Give me my wand."

Without thinking, she hands it over, then rushes from the room.

I lower myself onto the foot of the bed and contemplate my choices. If Bellatrix has been called back to the manor in such a hurry, something bad has happened. Perhaps with Voldemort? Could something have happened to him? Does Harry finally have everything it'll take to destroy the Dark Lord once and for all? I need to know what's going on but don't want to anger my mother right now, and she specifically told me to stay here. For my own safety.

My own safety. That means Voldemort is probably somewhere in the manor and will likely not be happy to see me wandering around. But I don't care right now because I simply have to know what's happening—I am sick of being blindsided by people because they want to keep things from me "for my own safety."

This frustration, along with impatience and a pounding heart, takes control of me, and against my better judgment, I cast the Disillusionment and Silencing Charms over myself and leave my mother's room, my last bit of uncertainty slowly dissipating as I make my way out of the basement. Knowing how this place works, where the Death Eaters convene when something happens, I head for the drawing room, the room in which almost every important thing is handled. I sprint through the manor until I catch up with Bellatrix, and though she can neither see me nor hear me, I still find my breath slowing and quieting and my footsteps being gentler on the stone floors just in case, staying a small distance behind her lest she sense my presence. I slide into the drawing room when she steps into it.

"What is this?" she asks as she enters the room. "What's happened, Cissy?" I follow closely behind her as she makes her way around a group of prisoners, a few Snatchers surrounding them, guarding their captives. Part of me wants to know whether any of them were involved in Ted Tonks's death so that I might avenge him in Andromeda's name, but that thought is fleeting and is quickly replaced with panic. In the drawing room of Malfoy Manor, with Voldemort probably on his way with the joy of victory bursting in him, is none other than the Golden Trio themselves. Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

Bellatrix watches them. "But surely," she says, her voice low and intimidating, "this is the Mudblood girl? This is Granger?"

I glance over at Narcissa, Draco, and Lucius, each of them experiencing completely different emotions. Draco looks feverish, Narcissa is as cold as stone, and Lucius smiles with an unbridled thrill. "Yes, yes, it's Granger!" Lucius rejoices. I want to kill him. "And beside her, we think, Potter! Potter and his friends, caught at last!"

I lose my breath. This can't be happening, this can't be happening. I need to Apparate to Hogwarts to warn Severus that the worst has happened, but I am rooted on my spot, frozen in fear as the truth rams into me: if they're caught and killed, my life is as good as ended. My chest constricts.

"Potter?" my mother shrieks, backing away to drink in the sight of the captives. "Are you sure? Well, then, the Dark Lord must be informed at once!"

No please. Please don't do this.

I can't breathe.

She pulls up the sleeve on her left arm to reveal the Dark Mark that was burned into her arm so very long ago. I want to take her face in my hands and beg her not to do this, plead with her as her daughter who will die if the Dark Lord arrives now. I need to stop her. How could I have been so stupid to think she actually wanted to help me? I'm an idiot. What does she think will happen to me when Voldemort returns and finds Harry here? Does she think he'll set me free because of his joy? No, he might even decide to keep me from returning to Hogwarts in order to speed up all of his plans if Harry is finally out of the way. Bellatrix gets ready to summon her master when Lucius grabs her arm. "I was about to call him!" he roars. My mother fights to touch the Mark. "I shall summon him, Bella, Potter has been brought to my house, and it is therefore upon my authority—"

"Your authority!" she scoffs, still trying to wrench her hand from him. "You lost your authority when you lost your wand, Lucius. How dare you! Take your hands off me!"

"This is nothing to do with you, you did not capture the boy—"

"Begging your pardon, Mr. Malfoy," the werewolf Greyback says, "but it's us that caught Potter, and it's us that'll be claiming the gold—"

"Gold!" my mother laughs cruelly, still attempting to free herself from my uncle, her free hand searching for her wand. "Take your gold, filthy scavenger, what do I want with gold? I seek only the honor of his—of—"

She pauses, her eyes on something, and I follow her gaze. The Sword of Gryffindor. How is this possible? Severus said he was going to . . . well, he never said what he was going to do with it. But how is it here? How do they have it? Why did I never follow up with him to see what the plan for the sword was?

My chest aches, and I press my hand against it. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

Lucius takes his opportunity and rips his sleeve up to display his Mark.

"STOP!" Bellatrix shrieks. "Do not touch it, we shall perish if the Dark Lord comes now!" A sudden silence freezes all of us, all of us besides my mother, who strides forward to the man with the sword. If Voldemort arrives here in a fit of fury—well, I don't want to know what he might do to me just because I happen to be in the vicinity of something bad that happened. He knows he can't trust me. "What is that?"

"Sword," the man grunts.

"Give it to me."

"It's not yorn, missus, it's mine. I reckon I found it."

With a swift motion, she whips out her wand and Stuns him, sending him flying through the air with a flash of red. The rest of the group attempt to avenge their unconscious mate, but they are no match for her. I sometimes forget how powerful she is, and by herself she soon has all of them on their backs. Except Greyback who kneels before her. He must know how important Bellatrix is to the Dark Lord and must therefore believe that she has reason to be acting this way.

I start trying to take slow, even breaths through my nose.

"Where did you get this sword?" she whispers to the werewolf as she pulls it from his hands.

"How dare you?" he snarls as he gazes up at her, baring his pointed teeth. "Release me, woman!" Well, maybe he doesn't respect her as I thought—she must have him controlled just as easily as she controls everyone. That's almost worse.

"Where did you find this sword?" she repeats, wielding it in his face. "Snape sent it to my vault in Gringotts!"

"It was in their tent," Greyback relents. "Release me, I say!"

My mother waves her wand, and the werewolf springs to his feet. He does not approach her but rather lurks behind an armchair, his nails clutching onto it. "Draco," she says, "move this scum"—she indicates the unconscious Snatchers—"outside. If you haven't got the guts to finish them, then leave them in the courtyard for me."

Narcissa quickly jumps to defend her son. "Don't you dare speak to Draco like—"

"Be quiet!" Bellatrix erupts. Did she suspect that she might lose her temper with everyone? Is that why she wanted to keep me out of here as long as possible? "The situation is graver than you could possibly imagine, Cissy!" Perhaps she is not as angry as I thought. Why would she bother using Narcissa's nickname if she were truly furious? I do not understand her. "We have a very serious problem!" Her eyes stare at the sword, her hand examining the hilt. "If it is indeed Potter, he must not be harmed." Her voice is subdued, almost chillingly so, and something about it sets on end the hairs on the back of my neck. "The Dark Lord wants to dispose of Potter himself. . . . But he if finds out . . . I must . . . I must know. . . ." Her eyes meet Narcissa once more. "The prisoners must be placed in the cellar, while I think of what to do!"

Again, with that fucking cellar. Breathe, breathe, breathe. You're not the one going in it.

"This is my house, Bella, you don't give orders in my—"

"Do it!" Narcissa should stop trying to stand up to her sister. It's a horrifying thing for me to see Mum snap at her like that. "You have no idea the danger we are in!" A bolt of fire burns a hole in the carpet from her outrage, or her fear. Something is very wrong with the way she's acting. It makes me feel afraid, like something truly horrible will happen soon. If Bellatrix is this frightened, what does that mean for the rest of us?

Narcissa hesitates, but only for a moment, before addressing the werewolf. "Take these prisoners down to the cellar, Greyback."

"Wait," my mother says sharply. "All except . . . except for the Mudblood."

The werewolf grunts with pleasure.

"No," I breathe, but no one can hear me. "Mum, please."

"No!" Ron shouts. "You can have me, keep me!"

My mother strikes him across the face, the blow echoing through the room. "If she dies under questioning, I'll take you next." My heart speeds up, aching in my chest as I struggle to breathe. I have to do something. I have to do something now. "Blood traitor is next to Mudblood in my book. Take them downstairs, Greyback, and make sure they are secure, but do nothing more to them—yet."

She tosses the werewolf his wand before drawing a silver knife and cutting Hermione free from the bindings. Still trying to catch my breath, I stumble backward to get out of her way as she drags my friend by the hair to the middle of the room. I try to look Draco in the eye, but he is unaware of my presence, just as the rest of them are. I need him to see me. Or understand somehow that I'm here. I need someone to stop this.

I have to stop this.

"HERMIONE!" Ron's voice screams from the cellar. "HERMIONE!"

My only hope is that if Luna is still in the cellar then she will be able to help Ron and Harry conjure up a plan. There's nothing I can do from here. There's really nothing I can do at all. Not without risking my own neck, and I'm not willing to do that right now. I cannot go through another round of torture—I just can't do it.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

"Where did you get the sword?" my mother asks her.

Hermione doesn't answer.

I want to stop this. I want to run, escape, warn someone, kill someone. Anything to make this stop. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

"Crucio!" Hermione erupts in pain, screaming for mercy, screaming for help, just screaming. How can you sit here and watch this when you know what it feels like to be on the receiving end of that curse from her? "Where did you get the sword?"

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

I sink to the floor and bury my face in my hands. I want to lose my eyesight, my hearing, my consciousness. I want to evaporate, to get out of here by any means necessary. But I won't let myself, and I don't know why. All I know is that I can't leave the room. I can't leave her alone. Even though I'm not doing anything, I can't leave. Breathe, breathe, breathe.

I reach into my pocket and pull out the vial of potion Severus brewed for me. Don't take it yet. Wait until you cannot breathe at all.

"I'm going to ask you again!" Bellatrix shouts. "Where did you get this sword? Where?"

"We found it—we found it—PLEASE!"

My breaths are short and shallow. My friend. This is my friend, and I am doing nothing as she is being tortured by my mother. Slowly, I force myself to stand and carefully walk over to Draco. I reach out for his hand but stop. Would he make a big deal about this? Or would he be discreet? Would he know that it's just me?

"You are a lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it!" my mother roars. "You have been in my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"

Bellatrix slices Hermione's arm and casts the Cruciatus Curse. Hermione shrieks again, and I close my eyes, trying to calm myself down. Breathe. They can't know you're here, or they'll punish you. They'll take you away from Severus. They'll lock you up in the cellar. Breathe. Stay calm. Stay quiet. Stay out of the way.

"HERMIONE!"

This time, I do not stop myself. I grab for Draco's hand. He does not so much as glance at me—he's too busy staring at the floor, trying like I am to ignore Hermione's pain—but his hand clasps around mine. "Breathe," he mutters, hardly audible. From the unsteadiness in his hand, I can only assume that he's struggling as much with this right now as I am.

"What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!" Another slash, followed by Hermione's cries of agony. Please stop, please stop! You don't have to do this! You don't have to be like this! "What else did you take? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!"

Hermione erupts, her voice shrieking out for mercy. This Cruciatus Curse is nothing like when I used it against Umbridge. It was almost entertaining then—but this time . . . this time it's at a whole new level. Bellatrix is truly a master of it, and I try to force myself not to remove the Silencing Charm and cry out for her to stop.

Breathe, breathe, breathe. You're not under her curse. Don't draw attention. Don't give her a reason to Cruciate you again.

She doesn't lift the curse, and my friend's screams become more and more unbearable. I tighten my hold on Draco, and he returns the favor.

"HERMIONE! HERMIONE!"

"How did you get into my vault?" Bellatrix screams. "Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?"

"We only met him tonight!" Hermione sobs. "We've never been inside your vault. . . . It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

"A copy?" Bellatrix screeches. "Oh, a likely story!"

"But we can find out easily!" Lucius says. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!"

Draco glances at where he assumes I am standing, his eyes apologetic as he releases me and runs to the cellar and returns moments later with the goblin. For good measure, Bellatrix hits Hermione with the Cruciatus Curse once more and moves on to the goblin. "Is the sword a fake?" she asks him.

He stays quiet.

A flash of silver, a grunt of pain, and I realize she's cut him in the face.

There is a loud crack! "What was that?" Lucius shouts. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?" He looks around at us. Bellatrix ceases her torturing. "Draco—no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"

Draco releases my hand again and follows his father's orders. Wormtail enters the room and rushes to the cellar.

No longer able to take it anymore, I drink the calming potion and stuff the vial back into my pocket. Breathe. This isn't happening to you.

"Is the sword a copy?" Bellatrix asks the goblin, calming slightly. Then she grabs Hermione by the hair again, causing more screams, and throws the girl at her feet. Hermione does not move. "Well?" she repeats to the goblin. "Is it the true sword?"

"No," he answers. "It is a fake."

"Are you sure?" Bellatrix pants. "Quite sure?"

"Yes."

Relief floods my mother's face. "Good." She slashes another deep cut on the goblin's face. He falls to his knees, and she kicks him aside. "And now," she says, her voice openly triumphant, "we call the Dark Lord!" She touches her index finger to the Dark Mark.

No, please, I can't face him right now.

"And I think," my mother continues, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want to."

I cry out as the same time there comes a loud, "NOOOOOOOOOOO!" as Ron and Harry burst into the drawing room. "Expelliarmus!" Ron roars. He has someone's wand, and I have a feeling Wormtail is probably dead down in that cellar. My mother's wand leaves her and enters the air, only to be caught by Harry, who then Stuns Lucius before Draco or Narcissa can do anything.

I rush to the edge of the room and throw the Shield Charm over myself. Heaven forbid something ridiculous happen to me when I'm just standing around. Spells fly through the room, colored flashes lighting the area ominously. Harry falls to the floor and rolls behind the sofa to avoid the attacks from Greyback, Narcissa, and Draco.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

Bellatrix now supports an unconscious Hermione in her arms, a knife to the girl's throat. "Drop your wands," she whispers. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is." Neither of the boys listens, as they are clearly trying to devise a plan. "I said, drop them!" Blood trickles from Hermione's throat.

"All right!" Harry shouts, dropping Bellatrix's wand to the floor.

"Good! Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!"

I need to leave.

"Now," she continues, "Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."

Her words claw at my heart. How can she allow the werewolf to do something like that to Hermione, a girl the very age of her daughter? Does she not have a heart?

A peculiar grinding noise catches my attention. The crystal chandelier hanging above Bellatrix creaks and jingles. My breath catches when it falls, but Mum drops Hermione and jumps to safety with a yelp. Why are you worried about her safety after what she's just done? The chandelier shatters as it falls atop Hermione and the goblin.

Draco's hands cover his bloodied face, small cuts from the shattered glass spreading red across his pale skin. Harry leaps upon his opportunity to wrench the wands away from him. Then he Stuns Greyback with all three of the wands now in his possession, throwing the werewolf into the air and back to the floor. Narcissa drags Draco from further harm, and I slide along with him, trying to get away from the action of this fight. Narcissa aims her wand at the doorway. "Dobby!" she screams. "You! You dropped the chandelier—?"

Dobby points a shaking finger at Narcissa. "You must not harm Harry Potter," he squeaks.

"Kill him, Cissy!" Bellatrix roars.

But, with a crack, Narcissa's wand flies into the air and lands on the other side of the room. "You dirty little monkey!" Bellatrix shrieks. "How dare you take a witch's wand, how dare you defy your masters?"

"Dobby has no master!" he squeals. "Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!"

"Ron, catch—and GO!" Harry tosses his friend a wand. Ron grabs Hermione; Harry grabs the goblin; and they both seize Dobby's hand. As they Disapparate, a flash of silver glides through the room and into the Disapparating group. My mother's knife disappears with them, taking what's left of my spirit and my hope. I know from my own experience that her knife must have done something to at least one of them.