Magic? || Years 5-7

The Scar: On the Run

With a peal of high-pitched, manic laughter, Bellatrix pranced around the room.

"And I think," Bellatrix said, gleeful and menacing, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

Before Amisty could scream—

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

A blur of ginger hair bolted into the drawing-room. Red-faced and furious, Ronald Weasley emerged from the shadows.

"Expelliarmus!" he bellowed, sending Bellatrix's wand flying in a high arc above their heads and landing in—

"Stupefy!" Harry yelled, a jet of scarlet erupting from the wicked tip.

Lucius Malfoy went caterwauling into the empty hearth, smears of old ash and embers leaving grey stains all over the fine fabric of his robes. Jets of light flew and bounced around the room, everything blurring, spinning, twisting—

"STOP OR THEY DIE!"

The world froze.

Amisty scrabbled at the arms around her chest, eyes wet with panicked tears at the teeth poised by her throat. Hot breath puffed across her deck, bloody and foul, a wry chuckle vibrating against her back. Across the room, Bellatrix held the blade of her knife to the underside of Hermione's chin.

"Drop your wands," Bellatrix said, barely more than a whisper. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

Neither boys moved. Harry straightened up from behind the couch, fingers white around the hilt of Bellatrix's wand. He made a move to cast, and Greyback growled in warning, a breadth away from sinking his teeth into Amisty's flesh. She whimpered, trying to jerk her head away in vain.

"I said, drop them!" Bellatrix shrieked, droplets of blood dripping down from behind her knife. Hermione hardly stirred.

"All right!" Harry shouted, angry, a little desperate too as he tossed the wand at his feet. Ron followed suit. They raised their hands in surrender.

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

Mouth a grim line, Harry didn't bother with a response. His fingers twitched, his body trembling with adrenaline and fury, but he remained still. A head of pale platinum darted forward, scooping up the discarded wands with trembling hands and a bowed back.

"Now," Bellatrix said, head cocked to the side, "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."

"And this one?" Greyback said, ever greedy, giving a silently crying Amisty a shake.

Bellatrix mulled this over for a moment, tapping her bottom lip.

"Have your fun," she said, at last, dismissive even as Amisty gave a strangled noise of protest. "She's of little use now, anyway."

The low rumble of Greyback's pleasure was muffled by a strange grinding noise from above. Amisty tipped her head back, vision still blurry, just in time to see the magnificent chandelier swinging above them tremble, then fall. Bellatrix screamed, dropping Hermione and flinging herself to the side. It was an explosion of crystals and glass and chains, smothering Hermione and the goblin, shards flying every which way.

Harried footsteps, someone running. The tinkle of shattered glass being brushed away. A heavy thud, a scuffle off to the right, the whistle of a spell by her ear.