The Girl Who Hid | ✓

|151| The Twins Who Lived

The smell of the forest filled my nostrils. I could feel the cold hard ground beneath my cheek, and my hand laying on something warm... Harry's hand, I supposed. Every inch of me ached, and the place where the Killing Curse had hit me felt like the bruise of an iron-clad punch. I did not stir, but remained exactly where I had fallen, with my right arm bent out at an awkward angle, my left hand on Harry's, and my mouth gaping.

I had expected to hear cheers of triumph and jubilation at our death, but instead hurried footsteps, whispers, and solicitous murmurs filled the air.

"My Lord...  my Lord..." It was Bellatrix's voice, and she spoke as if to a lover. I did not dare open my eyes, but allowed my other senses to explore the predicament. My hand was stabbing my elbow, where it lay hidden in my sleeve.

"My Lord..."

"That will do," said Voldemort's voice.

More footsteps: Several people were backing away from the same spot. Desperate to see what was happening and why, I opened my eyes by a millimeter.

Harry laid next to me "dead", but I could not see him for I was looking to the right. Voldemort seemed to be getting to his feet. Various Death Eaters were hurrying away from him, returning to the crowd lining the clearing. Bellatrix alone remained behind, kneeling beside Voldemort.

I closed my eyes again and thought about what I had just witnessed. The Death Eaters had been huddled around Voldemort, who seemed to have fallen to the ground. Something had happened when he had hit Harry and me with the Killing Curse. Had Voldemort too collapsed? It seemed like it. And three of us had fallen briefly unconscious and had now returned...

"My Lord, let me —"

"I do not require assistance," said Voldemort coldly, and though I could not see it, I pictured Bellatrix withdrawing a helpful hand. "The twins...  Are they dead?"

There was complete silence in the clearing. Nobody approached us, but I felt their concentrated gaze; it seemed to press me harder into the ground, and I was terrified a finger or an eyelid might twitch.

"You," said Voldemort, and there was a bang and a small shriek of pain. "Examine them. Tell me whether they are dead. The girl first."

I did not know who had been sent to verify. I could only lie there, with my heart thumping traitorously, and wait to be examined, but at the same noting, small comfort though it was, that Voldemort was wary of approaching us...

Hands, softer than I had been expecting, touched my face, pulled back an eyelid, crept beneath my shirt, down to my chest, and felt my heart. I could hear the woman's fast breathing, her long hair tickled my face. I knew that she could feel the steady pounding of life against my breast.

"Is Draco alive? Is he in the castle?"

The whisper was barely audible; her lips were an inch from my ear, her head bent so low that her long hair shielded my face from the onlookers.

"Yes," I breathed back.

I felt the hand on my chest contract; her nails pierced me. Then it was withdrawn. She had stood up.

"They are dead!" Narcissa Malfoy called to the watchers.

And now they shouted, now they yelled in triumph and stamped their feet, and through my eyelids, I saw bursts of red and silver light shoot into the air in celebration.

"You see?" screeched Voldemort over the tumult. "Harry Potter and Maisey Potter are dead by my hand, and no man alive can threaten me now! The Chosen One and the Powerful One, dead! Watch! Crucio!"