The star, his moon and their comets

CHAPTER 157 Malfoy Manor

April 5th, 1998

Emma

The night air was thick with tension as Emma and her companions were escorted to Malfoy Manor by the Death Eaters. The path to the manor was shrouded in darkness, illuminated only by the faint glow of wands and the eerie moonlight filtering through the clouds.

The imposing silhouette of Malfoy Manor loomed ahead, its grandeur juxtaposed against the sinister atmosphere of the night. The manor's ancient walls seemed to whisper secrets of a dark past, and the group's footsteps echoed ominously on the cobblestones as they approached.

The Death Eaters maintained a tight grip on their captives, their faces hidden behind masks that added to the sense of foreboding.

Emma's heart raced with a mixture of apprehension and anticipation as they neared the imposing gates of Malfoy Manor.

The walk felt endless, each step accompanied by the weight of uncertainty and the knowledge that they were entering the lion's den.

The air crackled with tension, and Emma couldn't help but steal glances at Draco's home, wondering what awaited them within its walls.

As they reached the imposing doors of Malfoy Manor, one of the Death Eaters raised a gloved hand and knocked with a heavy thud.

"What is this?" The cold voice of a woman pierced the air as they entered, demanding to know their purpose.

"We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" Greyback's voice rasped, filled with a mixture of anticipation and menace.

The woman's voice turned questioning, seeking to identify the intruders. "Who are you?"

"You know me!" Greyback's response dripped with resentment. "Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry and Emma Potter!"

With a rough grip, Greyback seized Harry and forcibly turned him to face the light, causing the other prisoners to shuffle around to adjust to the sudden movement and brightness.

Emma's eyes widened as she recognized the woman before her—it was Narcissa, Draco's mother.

A fleeting moment of confusion flashed across Narcissa's face, barely noticeable amidst the chaos. "Bring them in," she said.

Emma and the others were shoved and kicked up broad stone steps into a hallway lined with portraits.

"Follow me," said Narcissa, leading the way across the hall. "My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays as well as Octavia Rosier. If that is Harry and Emma Potter, they will know."

The drawing room dazzled after the darkness outside; even with her eyes almost closed Emma could make out the wide proportions of the room. A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, more portraits against the dark purple walls.

Bellatrix Lestrange stood there, her presence commanding attention as she surveyed the newcomers with a mixture of curiosity and malice. The tension in the room was palpable, amplified by the uncertainty of what awaited them.

Bellatrix's voice cut through the tense air as she demanded, "What is this?" Her eyes, sharp and calculating, fixed on the group of prisoners brought into the drawing room.

"They say they've got Potter," said Narcissa's cold voice.

Harry, Emma, and the others stood under her scrutinizing gaze, feeling the weight of her presence like a heavy shroud.

Emma took a deep breath, trying to maintain composure despite the fear that clenched at her heart.

Narcissa excused herself, leaving to find Draco and Octavia Rosier. Emma's heart raced with anticipation and anxiety, knowing that their fate hung in the balance within the walls of this imposing manor.