𝘒𝘦𝘦𝘱 𝘛𝘩𝘦𝘮 𝘈𝘭𝘪𝘷𝘦 •°𝘛𝘩𝘦 𝘗𝘰𝘵𝘵𝘦𝘳 𝘛𝘸𝘪𝘯𝘴

[88]

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

She looked frail.

She looked more fragile than glass.

And in that moment Harry hated himself more than he ever did, because he failed Sara, failed the person who gave him a home since they were both born.

Her hair stuck to her head and she was limping slightly as she walked, needing Malfoy's help to do so, but she still had that proud air to herself, her head was still held high.

Sara was still his brave and strong sister.

Lucius looked at her expectantly as Narcissa rushed to her son's and Sara's side, guiding them slowly towards Harry, Ron and Hermione.

Hermione whimpered slowly and she froze in place as she studied Sara even further, the slow approach of the three giving them all anxiety.

Ron seemed disappointed in himself for failing his brother's love so easily to let her turn out like that.

But Sara's steps didn't falter as Draco helped her to her knees in front of Harry; she betrayed no emotion, her face blank as she stared at her brother.

Bellatrix's hold on Harry's hair became harsher and her twisted grin even brighter.

Lucius approached them, putting a hand on Sara's shoulder; Draco flinched.

"Well, Potter, is this your brother?"

The minutes ticked by slowly as Sara looked and looked and looked some more at her brother, the look in her eyes so haunted that Harry thought he would crumble from her stare alone.

"No," her tone was convincing, loud and clear; Lucius stepped away from her, his eyes narrowing to slits.

Lucius ripped up his sleeve, the dark mark a vibrant black against his skin.

"STOP!" shrieked Bellatrix, "Do not touch it, we shall all perish if the Dark Lord comes now!"

Lucius froze, his index finger hovering over his own Mark. Bellatrix strode out towards one of the people Sara believed was a Snatcher. She had heard about them from Draco, how they captured muggleborns that ran away. There was also Greyback in the room, looking at Hermione like she was his next meal; Sara wanted to boil him alive.

"What is that?" she heard Bellatrix say over the anger blinding her vision.

"Sword," grunted an out-of-sight Snatcher.

"Give it to me."

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

There was a bang and a flash of red light; Sara saw the Snatcher fall back from the impact of the stunning charm. There was a roar of anger from his fellows: Scabior drew his wand.

"What d'you think you're playing at, woman?"

"Stupefy!" Bellatrix screamed, "Stupefy!"

They were no match for her, even thought there were four of them against one of her: She was a witch, as Sara knew, with prodigious skill and no conscience. They fell where they stood, all except Greyback, who had been forced into a kneeling position, his arms outstretched. Bellatrix was upon the werewolf, the sword of Gryffindor gripped tightly in her hand, her face waxen. "Where did you get this sword?" she whispered to Greyback as she pulled his wand out of his unresisting grip.