❝I'm in a box. But I'm the one who locked me in, suffocating. And I'm running out of oxygen.❞
( deathly hallows )
( plot credit: -patronus )
( r. allen book one )
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CHAPTER THIRTEEN. YOU KNOW
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They Apparated to the Malfoy Manor. Rosalie had been there many times before, but it felt so different this time. The three reeked of betrayal, because of her, and she felt it. It was everywhere, and their glares at the back of her head weren't helping the situation. She led the inside, but the guilt inside her told her to stop, to fight, and to get out of there. But she couldn't, she'd be considered a traitor and they would kill her. They were just outside the gates, others would see, and she would instantly be killed.
But why couldn't they see? Why couldn't they see that Rosalie didn't want this? She had been the one to try and help them through everything, to make sure they didn't get caught, but they did. Of course they did.
And against her better judgement, she opened the gates for them and led them inside the Manor. How she wished things were different...
She took Harry herself to the gate, pressing his face against the it as Bellatrix looked at them confused. She lifted up his hair, letting the older woman see what was the scar but damaged slightly. She had a wicked grin on her face as she whispered to this behind her, "Get Draco."
They were rushed inside the Manor. It seemed so dark now. Two years - maybe three by then - it was so much lighter, there was more joy. It wasn't overflowing with joy, there were no vibrant daisies awaiting them when they arrived, but it was happier and livelier. How the war - how Voldemort - had changed things with his stay there.
Once inside, Bellatrix took Harry and made Draco and Rosalie looked at him. She had a twisted grin on her face as she pulled at his hair to lift up his head. "Well?" she asked her nephew.
With a grimace on his face, Draco replied, "I can't be sure."
Lucius walked over to his son, Rosalie noted the haggardness of his appearance, remembering that only two - maybe three - years ago he looked so proud and stood so tall. Everything in this place crawled with bad memories of her past - of everything she hated about herself.
"Draco. Look closely, son. If we are the ones to hand Potter over to the Dark Lord....everything would be forgiven. All would be as it was, you understand?" Lucius whispered.
"Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy," one of the Snatchers yelled to catch his attention.
"You dare to talk to me like that in my own house?" Lucius questioned back, his voice raising with every word he spoke.
His wife walked over to him, touching his shoulder and hissing, "Lucius," a warning for him to stop. She brought him back as Bellatrix grabbed Draco's arm.
"Don't be shy, sweetie. Come over. Now, if this isn't who we think it is, Draco, and we call him, he'll kill us all. We need to be absolutely sure," Bellatrix told him in a sickly sweet tone.
