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CHAPTER TWENTY EIGHT

-: third year :-

── IN WHICH SHE REALISES

. . .


"Expelliarmus." The mass-murderer croaked, as if he hadn't spoken to anyone in a while - which was more than likely true. He was pointing Ron's wand at them, and Harry, Hermione and Marlie's wands flew out of their hands and into his. 

Then, Black stepped towards them, eyes fixated on the twins, flicking back and forth from Marlie to Harry every so often. "I thought you'd come and help your friend - both of you," he said hoarsely. "Your father would have done the same for me. Brave of you not to run for a teacher. I'm grateful... it will make everything much easier..."

Marlie could hear ringing in her ears as she stared at Black. How could he talk about their father like that? When it was his fault that he had died - how could he. But it seemed Harry was a lot more likely to act on the burning anger within him, and he started forward.

"Harry you utter idiot-" Marlie grabbed onto the back of his jacket and tugged him back, Hermione and Ron doing the same when they could reach.

"No, Harry!" Hermione gasped in a petrified whisper.

Ron,however, spoke to Black. "If you want to kill Harry and Marlie, you'll have to kill us too!" he said fiercely, though the effort of standing upright was draining him of still more color, and he swayed slightly as he spoke. 

Something flickered in Black's shadowed eyes. "Lie down," he said quietly to Ron. "You will damage that leg even more." 

"Did you hear me?" Ron said weakly, though he was clinging painfully to Harry to stay upright. "You'll have to kill all four of us!"

"There'll be only one murder here tonight," said Black, and his grin widened. It seemed, amongst the disarray, nobody really paid attention to details. 

"Why's that?" Harry spat, trying to wrench himself free of Ron, Marlie and Hermione. "Didn't care last time, did you? Didn't mind slaughtering all those Muggles to get at Pettigrew... What's the matter, gone soft in Azkaban?" 

"Harry!" Hermione whimpered. "Be quiet!" Harry looked back at Hermione, then his sister, who didn't have something to say for once, and watched as she stared at Black, anger burning in her eyes but no words leaving her lips.

 The Potter boy looked back at Sirius. "He killed our mum and dad!" He shouted, and with a huge effort he broke free of Marlie's, Hermione's and Ron's restraint and lunged forward. 

Perhaps it was the shock of Harry doing something so stupid, but Black didn't raise the wands in time — one of Harry's hands fastened over his wasted wrist, forcing the wand tips away; the knuckles of Harry's other hand collided with the side of Black's head and they fell, backwards, into the wall.

"Harry stop it." Marlie yelled. Hermione was screaming; Ron was yelling; there was a blinding flash as the wands in Black's hand sent a jet of sparks into the air that missed Harry's face by inches; Harry felt the shrunken arm under his fingers twisting madly, but he clung on, his other hand punching every part of Black it could find. But Black's free hand had found Harry's throat.

𝘁𝗶𝗻𝗸𝗲𝗿𝗯𝗲𝗹𝗹, draco malfoyWhere stories live. Discover now