Ron's POV

"Harry?" came a whisper through the darkness. "Ron? Is that you?" I stopped shouting, the singing from above had finally stopped. There was a sound of movement close by, then Harry turned, and I craned my neck enough to see her. "Harry? Ron?" We peered through the dark "Luna?"

"Yes, it's me! Oh no, I didn't want you to be caught!" "Luna, can you help us get these ropes off?" said Harry. "Oh yes, I expect so. . . . There's an old nail we use if we need to break anything. . . . Just a moment . . ."

Hermione screamed from overhead, and I could hear Bellatrix screaming too, but her words were inaudible, I looked between Harry and Luna, urging them to hurry so we could get out of here and help her. We couldn't waste any more time. I called out to her again.

"Mr. Ollivander?" Luna began saying. "Mr. Ollivander, have you got the nail? If you just move over a little bit. . . I think it was beside the water jug. . . ." She was back within seconds. "You'll need to stay still," she said, digging at the rope's tough fibres to work the knots free.

From upstairs they heard Bellatrix's voice. "I'm going to ask you again! Where did you get this sword? Where?" "We found it — we found it — PLEASE!"

Hermione screamed again; the sound made me even more anxious to leave and, in my hurry, I moved our restraints. "Ron, please stay still!" Luna whispered. "I can't see what I'm doing —"

Those words filled me with inspiration, "My pocket!" I said. "In my pocket, there's a Deluminator, and it's full of light!" After a few seconds of shuffling about the Deluminator had sucked from the lamps in the tent flew into the cellar.

Unable to re-join their sources, they simply hung there, like tiny suns, flooding the underground room with light. "Oh, that's much easier, thanks, Ron," said Luna, and she began hacking at our bindings again. "Hello, Dean!"

From above came Bellatrix's voice. "You are lying, filthy Mudblood, and I know it! You have been inside my vault at Gringotts! Tell the truth, tell the truth!"

Another terrible scream "HERMIONE!" "What else did you take? What else have you got? Tell me the truth or, I swear, I shall run you through with this knife!" Her screams filled me with fear, but worse than that was the silence from (Y/N), what had shut him up?

"There!" Our ropes came loose, but before we could do anything we were stopped in our tracks. We heard footsteps approaching, I clicked the Deluminator once more and we were told to line up at the back of the cellar.

I looked at Harry, he shook his head so I complied, then Pettigrew scurried in backed by two Death Eaters, I was worried this was it, but the two behind him chucked a body to the floor. Pettigrew started forcing us to line up at the back of the cell.

It was (Y/N), beaten and bloodied again, he must not have given them what they wanted, I was in the middle of wondering which of us would be next when the two Death Eaters turned around and walked out, Pettigrew raised a wand at each of us and backed out slowly with them. But then it all went bad

(Y/N) stood up shakily, looking half dead, bleeding from his face and said one word "Hermione!" he hobbled over to the door just in time to make a grab at Pettigrew.

He held onto Peter's shoulder like it was a lifeline and tried to wrestle for his wand, Pettigrew was rooted to the spot, squealing in terror, "I'll kill you!" (Y/N) threatened.

I was going to rush forward and help but Pettigrew managed to free himself another Death Eater came down the stairs, "Crucio!" he cast on (Y/N) who immediately collapsed, but just as quickly he rose again, teeth gritted.

Pettigrew made a frantic attempt to force the door closed (Y/N) got to the other side, gripping the bars, trying to force it open, "Let her go!" he said maliciously, he had almost began to pry it open when the Death Eater cast "Flipendo!"

(Y/N) was catapulted back, hitting the back of the cellar. The door slammed closed and magically locked as we went to (Y/N)'s side. I could tell by his eyes he could barely hear us, he was only thinking of Hermione, and how he could get to her.

Before we got to him he turned in to his Animagus form, even it looked beaten and bloody, missing a paw, but he charged the door, trying everything he could think of to force it open.

Repeatedly the animal slammed against the bars, biting and clawing at the iron and brick alike. We didn't dare try to stop him; it was the first time I'd ever seen an Animagus look like a wild animal.

It was Luna that finally got him to stop, she stood between him and the door. Her hands were shaking, but she placed one on his head and he was a bloke again.

"Hermione...they still have..." whatever influence he was under, wore off and he all but collapsed into her arms. It was only then I noticed the amount of blood that he had been trailing behind him.

He had deep wounds on his back and sides that came from his tussle with Greyback, each of them spilling blood, the Death Eaters hadn't even bothered to heal them. This reinvigorated me to find a way out, he didn't have much time left.

Thanks to his efforts I knew the door was pointless, so I began running around the cellar, looking up at the low ceiling, searching for a trapdoor. I started trying to Disapparate without a wand like Hermione always did, but a voice distracted me.

"There's no way out, Ron," said Luna, watching but not lifting a finger to help. "The cellar is completely escape-proof. I tried, at first. Mr. Ollivander has been here for a long time, he's tried everything."

We listened on in horror as the torture continued, I was still trying to find a way out, but I was coming up blank, we were running out of options and Harry had started pleading with some glass like a lunatic.

"How did you get into my vault?" we heard Bellatrix scream. "Did that dirty little goblin in the cellar help you?" "We only met him tonight!" Hermione sobbed. "We've never been inside your vault. . . . It isn't the real sword! It's a copy, just a copy!"

"A copy?" screeched Bellatrix. "Oh, a likely story!" "But we can find out easily!" came Lucius's voice. "Draco, fetch the goblin, he can tell us whether the sword is real or not!" Harry dashed across the cellar to where Griphook was huddled on the floor.

"Griphook," he whispered into the goblin's pointed ear, "you must tell them that sword's a fake, they mustn't know it's the real one, Griphook, please —"Someone was scuttling down the cellar steps; next moment, Draco's shaking voice spoke from behind the door.

"Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don't try anything, or I'll kill you!" We did as we were told; as the lock turned, I clicked the Deluminator and the lights whisked back into my pocket, restoring the cellar's darkness.

The door flew open; Malfoy marched inside, wand held out in front of him, pale and determined. He skirted around the motionless (Y/N), "What's wrong with him? Move him!" Luna was the first to say something.

"We can't, he's too injured and we don't have wands, if we do, he could die." "You think I care! Just get him out of the way!" He kicked (Y/N) in the cheek and something unexpected happened.

(Y/N)'s POV

The last thing I remember was Hermione's face as I was dragged off into the dark. I vaguely remembered seeing Luna too, I hope she wasn't being tortured too, I couldn't live with myself if that was the case.

My dream was strange, I was in a dark room, surrounded by nothing. But as in most dreams, it was perfectly logical that I was here in my mind. For some reason I was hyperaware of what I had to do to escape the dream and help Hermione.

I sat cross legged on the floor of wherever the hell I was, as if this act alone would put me in a meditative state and before I even realised I was doing it, I was searching in the darkness, hoping to make a connection with her.

I knew it was impossible, even for me, my powers couldn't fix everything. But there was a burning desire in my heart to tell her that everything was fine, that I was coming.

A sharp kick dragged me awake, I wasn't in the shining white room anymore, quite the opposite, the room I found myself in was dark and dingy, as my eyes adjusted, I was finally able to make out the shape of the person above me.

He retreated, a goblin at his side. "Malfoy!" I shouted almost pleadingly, not caring what he could do to me since he was in possession of a wand, more concerned with Hermione, I ran up to him.

"Draco, let her go please, please I'm begging you, tell them to stop, I'll tell you anything you want. You can kill me if you want just bring her down here." He frowned at me and pointed his wand threateningly.

"You don't scare me Malfoy. You aren't like them. For goodness sake, you're still scared of werewolves! You don't have to act like them" I said, trying to appeal to his humanity. He sneered at me. "She doesn't deserve this, please!" It seemed my pleas fell on deaf ears. A wand pressed to my stomach. "Everte Statum"

I was launched off my feet again, hitting my already opened back against the wall, but that was nothing to me now. I quickly found my feet and charged back at him, ready to snap his scrawny neck if it got me to Hermione faster.

He seized the little goblin by the arm and backed out of the room before I could reach him. The door slammed shut and at the same moment a loud crack echoed inside the cellar, but I wasn't focused on that. I was too busy trying to beg Draco.

"I saved your life, you owe me!" I collided with the door again, begging. "I saved your life! YOU OWE ME! Please just let her go! Don't do this." I cried, tears spilling out of me as he retreated up the stairs

I shouted out in frustration. I heard Ron click the Deluminator. Three balls of light flew from his pocket, revealing Dobby the house-elf, who had just Apparated into our midst.

Footsteps crossed the ceiling overhead: Draco marching Griphook to Bellatrix. Dobby's enormous, tennis-ball-shaped eyes were wide; he was trembling from his feet to the tips of his ears. He was back in the home of his old masters, and it was clear that he was petrified.

"Harry Potter," he squeaked in the tiniest quiver of a voice, "Dobby has come to rescue you." "But how did you — ?" An awful scream drowned Harry's words: Hermione was being tortured again.

He cut to the essentials. "You can Disapparate out of this cellar?" he asked Dobby, who nodded, his ears flapping. "And you can take humans with you?" Dobby nodded again.

"Dobby, get me upstairs, just get me upstairs right now!" I demanded, ignoring Harry's plan, Dobby looked torn between the two options. "Harry Potter?" he said in confusion.

"Right. Dobby, I want you to grab Luna, Dean, and Mr. Ollivander, and take them — take them to —" "Bill and Fleur's," said Ron. "Shell Cottage on the outskirts of Tinworth!" The elf nodded for a third time.

"And then come back," said Harry. "Can you do that, Dobby?" "Of course, Harry Potter," whispered the little elf. I crouched down and snatched the nail from Luna, hiding it in my closed fist, readying it as a weapon for what was to come.

As Dean and Luna protested leaving, then left anyway, I formed a plan, a plan to make the best out of what I had, which was not a lot of time, but one spell that could light this whole house up.

"Winky!" I called out commandingly, I heard a little 'pop' and spun around, and I was face to ears with Winky the house elf, her little red nose almost gleaming in the darkness, she let out a little wail and I quickly rushed to cover her mouth.

"Shhh! Quiet Wink" I said but I couldn't help but smile. Seeing her even in these circumstances was like a fog was lifted from my mind, seeing her brought me peace. Her eyes welled with tears, "Master (Y/N)" she croaked before pulling me into a scrambling hug.

I squeezed her tightly, almost too much, as if she would disappear if I didn't, she sobbed into my ear. "I is worrying about you...and then you is calling Winky, and Winky is dropping everything to come and help, even, even when...."

"They is saying bad things, they is saying Master (Y/N) is a bad boy!" she said, tears spilling down her face, "They is saying you has been doing bad things." She shook her head, her bat ears almost slapping me in the face. "But I is saying they is wrong, I is knowing you is a good boy, a kind boy!"

I pulled out of the hug, "I missed you so much Winky, I was so worried, but right now, I need you to do something for me." She nodded, "Anything!" "I need you to take Harry and Ron to Shell Cottage in Tinworth, and then come back to me."

"Like hell!" said Ron, "That's not happening, you can't just storm up there by yourself" Even Winky seemed tentative. "You have to." I said, my strength beginning to fade a little. "Why, is it your turn to play the returning hero now?" Ron spat my words back at me.

"Nothing like that. If You-Know-Who is coming, you're all in danger if he sees any of us, we're dead. Harry especially." They went to argue, "So, when he comes, I'm going to get Hermione out with Winky and light this whole place up with him inside."

"Then all you have to do is hunt the Horcruxes as he reforms. Like with Quirrell" Suddenly, to my surprise, Harry hit me, "Stop talking rubbish! That isn't happening! You think we would ever let you; you think Hermione would?" "We get her together!" called Ron.

"He's coming soon Harry, you know that better than anyone, and if he gets here, game over, I'm half dead already, I'll just slow you down" "Why are you trying to do this?" asked Harry. I took a deep breath and tried not to let tears fall.

"Because you're my family, and I'm not letting my family go running off and getting themselves killed anymore" "I've already lost one brother, I'm not losing two more!"

I pointed to Winky, "So go on, get somewhere safe. I'll send Hermione after you in a couple of minutes" "Oh shut up you prat! That's never going to happen" Ron shouted, ignoring me.

"What was that?" shouted Lucius Malfoy from over their heads. "Did you hear that? What was that noise in the cellar?" Harry and Ron stared at each other. "Draco — no, call Wormtail! Make him go and check!"

Footsteps crossed the room overhead, then there was silence. We knew that the people upstairs were listening for more noises from the cellar. "We're going to have to try and tackle him," Harry whispered to Ron and me.

"Winky, stay hidden unless we're in trouble ok?" She nodded and there was a little 'pop' again and she was gone. "Leave the lights on," Harry added. We heard someone descending the steps outside the door.

I laid down on the floor again beside the door and they backed against the wall on either side of it. I gripped the nail between my middle and ring finger, ready to attack.

"Stand back," came Wormtail's voice. "Stand away from the door. I am coming in." The door flew open. For a split second Wormtail gazed into the apparently empty cellar, ablaze with light from the three miniature suns floating in mid-air.

Then Harry and Ron launched themselves upon him. Ron seized Wormtail's wand arm and forced it upward; Harry slapped a hand to his mouth, muffling his voice. I stumbled to my feet, ready to stick him with the nail.

Silently they struggled: Wormtail's wand emitted sparks; his silver hand closed around Harry's throat. "What is it, Wormtail?" called Lucius Malfoy from above. "Nothing!" Ron called back, in a passable imitation of Wormtail's wheezy voice. "All fine!"

Wormtail's silver hand wrapped around Harry's neck tighter, Harry struggled for a breath but said "You're going to kill me? After I saved your life? You owe me, Wormtail!"

The silver fingers slackened; Harry's pleas worked better then mine. Harry wrenched himself free, astonished, keeping his hand over Wormtail's mouth. The ratlike man's small watery eyes widened with fear and surprise.

He seemed just as shocked as Harry at what his hand had done, at the tiny, merciful impulse it had betrayed, and he continued to struggle more powerfully, as though to undo that moment of weakness.

"And we'll have that," whispered Ron, tugging Wormtail's wand from his other hand. Wandless, helpless, Pettigrew's pupils dilated in terror. His eyes had slid from Harry's face to something else. His own silver fingers were moving inexorably toward his own throat.

"No —" Harry said, in my shock, I dropped the nail and rushed to help save the man I was ready to kill mere seconds ago. The silver tool that Voldemort had given his most cowardly servant had turned upon its disarmed and useless owner.

Something about it was so pathetic, so timid, I had to help, I was compelled to. Pettigrew was reaping his reward for his hesitation, his moment of pity, he was being strangled by his own hand.

"No!" Ron had released Wormtail too, and together we all tried to pull the crushing metal fingers from around Wormtail's throat, but it was no use. The only thing equal in strength to it was my own prosthetic, which was nowhere to be seen.

Pettigrew was turning blue. "Relashio!" said Ron, pointing the wand at the silver hand, but nothing happened; Pettigrew dropped to his knees, and at the same moment, Hermione gave a dreadful scream from overhead.

Wormtail's eyes rolled upward in his purple face; he gave a last twitch and was still. We looked at each other, I bent down and closed his eyes, grabbing the nail again, then detaching the silver hand and stashing it away in my belt, I couldn't risk using it now, but it may come in handy later.

"Give me the wand" I whispered to Ron, knowing I was a better fighter, He looked at me angrily, "So you can top yourself with it? Not bloody likely!"

Leaving Wormtail's body on the floor behind us, we ran up the stairs and back into the shadowy passageway leading to the drawing room.

Cautiously we crept along it until we reached the drawing room door, which was ajar. Now we had a clear view of Bellatrix looking down at Griphook, who was holding Gryffindor's sword in his long-fingered hands.

Hermione was lying at Bellatrix's feet. She was barely stirring, the others pulled me back so I didn't rush to her and we could remain hidden. "Well?" Bellatrix said to Griphook. "Is it the true sword?" "No," said Griphook. "It is a fake."

"Are you sure?" panted Bellatrix. "Quite sure?" "Yes," said the goblin. Relief broke across her face, all tension drained from it. "Good," she said, and with a casual flick of her wand she slashed another deep cut into the goblin's face, and he dropped with a yell at her feet.

She kicked him aside. "And now," she said in a voice that burst with triumph, "we call the Dark Lord!" And she pushed back her sleeve and touched her forefinger to the Dark Mark.

"And I think," said Bellatrix's voice, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her." Greyback smiled with an almost howl and took a step towards her.

"OVER MY DEAD BODY!" I growled, going utterly berserk and forgetting I had no wand. I burst into the drawing room; Bellatrix looked around, shocked; she turned her wand to face me, but Ron was too quick.

"Expelliarmus!" he roared, pointing Wormtail's wand at Bellatrix, and hers flew into the air and was caught by Harry. I jumped on top of Greyback, who thrashed and turned as I wrapped my forearm around his neck.

Using my remaining hand, I began stabbing his face over and over with the jagged nail. He writhed in agony as I plunged it into his face again, until he collapsed.

Harry yelled, "Stupefy!" and Lucius Malfoy collapsed onto the hearth. Jets of light flew from Draco's and Narcissa's wands; Harry threw himself to the floor, rolling behind a sofa to avoid them. "STOP OR SHE DIES!"

I froze in place, still clinging onto a downed Greyback. I turned to see Bellatrix was supporting Hermione, who seemed to be unconscious, and was holding her short silver knife to Hermione's throat.

"Drop your wands," she whispered. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!" My nail dropped and clattered on the floor, which now ran red with Greyback's blood, Ron stood rigid, clutching Wormtail's wand. Harry straightened up, still holding Bellatrix's.

"I said, drop them!" she screeched, pressing the blade into Hermione's throat: I saw beads of blood appear there. "All right!" Harry shouted, and he dropped Bellatrix's wand onto the floor at his feet. Ron did the same with Wormtail's. Both raised their hands to shoulder height.

"Good!" she leered. "Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Your death approaches!" "Now," said Bellatrix softly, as Draco hurried back to her with the wands. I saw he was holding my wand too and suddenly a new anger burst forth.

"My mother bought me that wand!" I snarled in my head. "Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Draco takes care of Miss Mudblood." At the last word there was a peculiar grinding noise from above.

All of us looked upward in time to see the crystal chandelier tremble; then, with a creak and an ominous jingling, it began to fall. Bellatrix was directly beneath it; dropping Hermione, she threw herself aside with a scream.

The chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and chains, falling on top of Hermione and the goblin, who still clutched the sword of Gryffindor. Glittering shards of crystal flew in all directions: Draco doubled over, his hands covering his bloody face.

Ron and I ran to pull Hermione out of the wreckage, Harry took his chance: He leapt over an armchair and wrested the wands from Draco's grip, pointed all of them at a staggering Greyback, and yelled, "Stupefy!"

The werewolf was lifted off his feet by the quadruple spell, flew up to the ceiling, and then smashed to the ground. As Narcissa dragged Draco out of the way of further harm, Bellatrix sprang to her feet, her hair flying as she brandished the silver knife.

"Dobby!" she screamed, "You! You dropped the chandelier — ?" The tiny elf trotted into the room, his shaking finger pointing at his old mistress. "You must not hurt Harry Potter," he squeaked.

"You stupid elf, you could have killed me!" she said in what seemed to be genuine shock. "Dobby never meant to kill, Dobby only meant to maim or seriously injure." As I lifted Hermione in my arms and hurried over to Harry, I couldn't help but smile.

"Kill him, Cissy!" shrieked Bellatrix, but there was another loud crack, and Narcissa's wand too flew into the air and landed on the other side of the room. Winky stood with the others, her hand glowing with magic.

"You dirty little monkey!" bawled Bellatrix. Winky scowled and let out a 'humph' noise, then stuck out her tongue like I taught her to. She stood behind Dobby.

But she became overcome by anxiety for attacking a witch and gripped my shirt hem, as a way of asking forgiveness. Its what she always did when she was worried she hadn't done her duty.

I smiled at her and winked poking my tongue out of my lips to make her laugh and put her at ease. She let out a little smile and looked to the floor. Ignoring Bellatrix berating her.

"How dare you take a witch's wand, and you!" Bellatrix pointed to Dobby, "how dare you defy your masters." Dobby looked at her defiantly, "Dobby has no master!" squealed the elf.

"Dobby is a free elf, and Dobby has come to save Harry Potter and his friends!" "GO!" Harry yelled and we all joint arms, he was hoisting the groaning goblin, who still clung to the sword, over one shoulder.

Harry seized Dobby's hand and we spun on the spot to Disapparate. As we did, I thought I saw a flash of metal, but assumed that it was a part of the fallen chandelier spinning past my eyes.

We disappeared into the unknown; but I wasn't worried, I had everything, Hermione was safe, so were all my friends, hopefully Greyback would do me a favour and succumb to his wounds. And all at the cost of a few beatings and a metal hand.

We hit solid earth and smelled salty air, I could see the tide coming in nearby and it was beginning to get dark.

My knees almost buckled because of the extra burden of carrying Hermione in my arms. I could still feel Winky attached to my side. "Dobby, is this Shell Cottage?" Harry asked.

I felt a pull on my clothes, I turned to look down at Winky, wondering what she had to say, what I saw put me in a state of shock. It was like taking an extra step on the stairs amplified by a million.

She was looking up at me with her large pleading eyes, while holding a wound on her front that was spilling blood from her abdomen. The blood stained her dress and she made a whimpering noise.

"How?" I thought as she stumbled backwards and I noticed that Dobby had been hit in the chest with a silver dagger, it had passed through him into her. They had both been struck by the same dagger.

I rushed into action, my instincts kicking in and my body overcoming the shock as Harry noticed too. "Dobby?" he said in shock, shouting "DOBBY!"

Sliding on his knees to catch him as Dobby fell to one side. I looked between the two elves, rooted to the spot. Not knowing which to help. But I knew I had to decide. Quickly.

Triage dictated that I should have treated Dobby first, he was the most gravely injured and the most at risk of serious injury, but from what I could tell, both injuries were life threatening, and as much as I hated it, my heart took over my head.

As much as I told myself that it was because she had a higher chance of survival in any case, I know that wasn't the reason. I couldn't lose Winky too, I don't know if I could ever. And as much as I hated myself for it, she came first regardless in my eyes.

I hoped that it wouldn't matter, I hoped I could move fast enough to save them both "Ron! Take her!" I said, dropping Hermione gently into his arms before he was ready, my mind was racing, and the clock was ticking.

My eyes drawn to Hermione's unconscious form, then it hit me. "Please, let her have it." I begged, begged inside my head that I would be quick enough to find what I was hoping to.

Who I begged I wasn't quite sure. I don't even know why I thought to do it, as if it would help. I knew she had the purse, she had to. She was too smart not to have hidden it somewhere.

"If I were Hermione and I was trying to hide something, were would I put it?" I looked to Winky and Dobby again and it occurred to me "Socks."

I pulled the beaded handbag out of its hidden spot and rooted about it for the dittany. Diving next to Winky to heal the slash that was across her stomach as blood pooled out of her, staining her dress.

She was sobbing, wheezing, tears spluttered out of her eyes. "Master (Y/N)..." she said shakily, as if it was a question as to what was going on. I looked into her eyes, trying to ease the pain however I could. But she was utterly terrified, confused and panicking.

"Wink, this is going to hurt, but I'm going to help you okay, we can do this together" I tried to comfort her, she let out a little nod and then a ghastly wail as I dripped the dittany across her skin, the wound closed just enough.

I yanked the wand out of Ron's hand as he sat there gormless, holding Hermione but unable to help in any other capacity. Speeding through the words that Snape had taught me for healing.

She was still weeping as I started the process, but as her wound knitted closed she passed out. "Mobilicorpus" I watched as she floated off the ground and rested. "Dobby — no — HELP!" Harry bellowed toward the cottage, toward the people moving there, then to me "HELP!"

I crawled over to him quickly. But as I saw the wound, I realised how bad it was, my heart dropped at the sight of the silver. I realised the seriousness of the situation as I looked in Dobby's fading eyes.

My wand traced down his body to the point of the blade that was still resting in his abdomen. I looked into his eyes, then to Harry, unable to do anything, even if I had gotten to him first the damage was too extensive, even for dittany.

Regardless of the horrid voice in the back of my head taunting me, telling me it was a waste, I attempted to heal the wound, hoping against hope that I could relieve the elf enough that he would pull through, that by some stroke of luck or one in a million magic, it would work.

But despite my efforts, luck and time weren't with us. "Dobby, no, don't die, don't die —" Harry cried, the elf's eyes found him, and his lips trembled with the effort to form words.

"Harry . . . Potter . . ." And then with a little shudder the elf became quite still, and his eyes were nothing more than great glassy orbs, sprinkled with light from the stars they could not see.

A dread hung over us all in the hours that followed. A gentle hand led me to the residence close by as Winky awoke again and I carried her inside, Ron had already led Hermione into the cottage.

Bill and Fleur's cottage stood alone on a cliff overlooking the sea, its walls embedded with shells and whitewashed. It was a lonely and beautiful place. But I couldn't take in the scenery.

I was right, after the numbness of the adrenaline high wore off and I pushed my way into Shell Cottage, I was done. The pain that passed through my body was unbearable.

It felt like the slashes across my back were living entities, constantly biting into my flesh and drilling deeper, so deep I felt as if they had begun to gnaw on bone, I felt as if my skin was about to tear off whenever I made the mistake of moving.

The only thing that kept me upright and conscious was a mixture of grief and guilt. Swirling around my body. I felt like I was being pulled along without my brain's input, like I was sleepwalking. It was my fault, all my fault.

It was me that led to Hermione being tortured, it was me who dragged Winky into my problems and almost got her killed, it was me that had let Dobby die. These thoughts seemed to propel me as I glided across the room to meet the others, not really present.

I laid Winky onto an armchair as she fell asleep, she had been curled into me since Dobby's passing and over the course of our walk into the cottage, the tears and the drain of the injury had exhausted her.

I stumbled up the stairs to the guest bedroom, Hermione was laid there with Fleur and Ron watching over her. I could barely talk, my lungs and throat were shot, but they didn't need an explanation, "She'll be fine, with rest" I couldn't do anything else but nod.

Bill pulled me away from the others into the bathroom alone so he could clean my wounds, that was when it all took a toll, I collapsed, my knees buckling under me.

Bill managed to catch me just before I hit the tile and it was a joint effort from both of us to perch me on the edge of the bath. It was then I noticed the blood, almost all my clothes were stained red, emanating from the deep crimson patch on along my back.

That wasn't even the bit that hit me the most, what did was the blood that had dried and became a layer that encased my hand and the worst thing was, I didn't know whose it was, Greybacks, Dobby's or my own.

It wouldn't wash off, as I ran water over it again and again, it just never seemed to fade, the water traced my fingers but it was like an ink that had seeped into my skin. The thought worried me more than anything.

"Bill." I said vaguely, in what was barely a voice, "Bill, it won't come off...why won't it-" I began to panic, but he grabbed my wrist to stop me, "Never mind that now. Take your shirt off, we need to get you fixed up."

I did as he said simply because I was told to, I had no emotion left in my body, no thought deemed it fit to pass through me, as I went to pull the item of clothing over my head.

It felt as if I had been set on fire, as if my skin had gone taught and had torn apart, after that I knew it had to be bad. "Good lord" Bill stuttered out as I dropped the remains of my shirt to the floor.

I couldn't see the damage, but I could almost feel it, the air racing to the wounds seemed to paint an outline around the cuts. I was ill, terribly ill as soon as air hit my skin the shock took hold of me, all the blood loss seemed to grip me, I felt weak and frail, almost toppling over whenever I wasn't supported.

I was fading in and out of consciousness and there were white spots in my vision, It occurred to me I could still die from these wounds, and the panic of that thought didn't help.

"I know what these are (Y/N)...from experience. What happened?" "Fell" was all I could croak out, not wanting to worry him. He disappeared soon after that, coming back with some sort of mixture that did nothing to soothe my pain.

It ended up becoming a two-person job and poor Fleur had to be dragged in to help. "oh mon Dieu! I will get ze dittany" I was too sickly to say something funny. After thirty seconds of fumbling, the familiar hiss of dittany traced my back, mixed with something else.

I'm sure two days ago, this would have been beyond agony and I would never be able to sit through it like I did now without squirming and writhing. But the concept of agony meant nothing to me now, it had lost all meaning to me in the past few hours.

It seemed to barely sting, as if my body barely registered it, at first I thought it was simply because of the numbness in me that followed Dobby's death, but maybe I had burned out my nerves or something, or maybe a small part of me felt like I deserved the pain.

Fleur and Bill both agreed I needed a bath or shower to wash myself off, and while I was perfectly capable of doing it myself, they insisted otherwise. Both looking at my injuries and my lack of a hand, "I'm not an invalid" I protested, but Bill stayed in the room as Fleur went to tend the others.

"Wait..." I said weakly, my throat dry and sore, I rustled in my belt and she let out a squeak, turning away and covering her eyes I tapped her on the shoulder with the sleeping draught I had grabbed and said, "For Hermione."

She seemed to come to her senses as she realised I wasn't stripping off in front of her and she had misread my intention, looking over the bottle she nodded, taking it and quickly darting out of the room to avoid any further embarrassment.

I thought a bath was a bit much, so we compromised and I sat in the bathtub, still half clothed, as Fleur repaired the damage to my shirt, and Bill ran water across my back and any other injured parts of me, to 'soothe' them.

"No offence, but of everyone in this house, you were not my first pick for the person giving me a sponge bath." He sighed, "Well, it's not exactly a sponge bath first off, second, I'm afraid we're both going to have to just get over it" he said, sounding tired and drying off a blood-soaked towel with his wand.

"If it makes you feel any better, you made top five." "It doesn't." he said as he ran the showerhead over my back and blood seeped into the drain. "What happened?" he asked, as much as it pained me not to be able to vent, I kept my mouth shut, "Tripped down the stairs."

"What about Hermione, or the goblin? Did they trip too?" he all but growled, I imagine not being told anything would be frustrating, but it wasn't my place to tell him regardless.

"Something like that. They were very slippery stairs" He looked at me with an angry intensity in his eyes. "Did it bite you?" I shook my head, "Your lucky, claws are less likely to transfer it."

"I bit it though." I confessed, he was dumbfounded, "You what!" "I bit it's cheek and stabbed it in the face with a nail." I said, trying to keep the hint of pride out of my voice.

"What in the name of Merlin, possessed you to bite a werewolf!" I shrugged, "I was angry, and so was he. Felt natural at the time." He looked worried so I shook my head, "I'll be fine."

"Yes, I thought the same thing, look where that got me." I scoffed, "Yes Bill, you seem to be doing so terribly in life." Yet again, he sighed, "If it didn't bite you and it wasn't transformed, you have less of a chance of being infected."

"But from what you told me and your injuries, it's a toss up at this point." "Do you feel any different?" I thought for a minute, closing my eyes and focusing on how I felt. I shook my head, for the first time since we entered the room, Bill smiled "That's brilliant."

"Lupin told me that if you were infected, you'd know. Like a gut feeling I suppose" he shrugged and left me alone to clean the rest as he helped Harry with something he was doing outside.

Whenever water droplets passed across my face, tears joined them, I was openly sobbing as it traced down me. I didn't know Dobby very well, but I knew he didn't deserve that, I should have tried harder, I should have been faster. I'd failed someone again.

Within the hour, my wounds were 'healed' or at least closed, stitched closed magically, now tracing my hand across my back was like running my fingers across a chain link fence. I swung the shower curtain across only to find my newly washed and repaired shirt waiting for me.

Putting it on made the tiredness hit my body more than anything, like putting on fresh pyjamas, something about it made me sleepy. I passed by a window and saw what Harry was doing in the garden and my stomach dropped.

He was digging a grave for Dobby; Bill was helping him. Conflicting thoughts ran through my head, I wanted to go and help him, to ease some of the burden he had taken on, but another side of me felt unworthy of doing so, as if me digging his grave was an insult.

I gritted my teeth and stumbled out of the house to join them taking over for Bill, who I urged to go and rest. I took the shovel from him and started digging as best I could.

It was quite difficult to do one handed, I used my forearm to stabilise the shovel and my feet to drive it into the earth, but I was determined. Harry and I dug in silence for a long while.

Every time we dug deeper into the dirt, I felt worse about what had happened on the beach. I remained quiet until the tension took over me and I just couldn't handle it anymore.

Every time Harry looked in my direction, I felt like he was judging me for my failure, blaming me for making this grave necessary. "Harry..." I said timidly, feeling as if I was that little kid on the Hogwarts express all those years ago, nervous about saying the wrong thing.

"Don't." He said softly, in a sort of quiet anger and my heart sank, "You tried, I know you did, that was all I would ask...I know he wouldn't blame you, and I won't either. So don't blame yourself."

With that, the silence came over us again. But not blaming myself was easier said then done, as much as I had lectured Harry about the pointlessness of 'what if's' when Mum died, there were still hundreds of them floating around my head.

We lost track of time. The darkness had lightened a few degrees when we were joined by Ron and Dean. "How's Hermione?" I asked hoarsely "Better," said Ron. "Fleur's looking after her." I nodded.

"You should go and see her." Offered Harry, "You have done enough" I know he didn't mean it as a passive aggressive barb, but that's what it felt like, "No, it's fine, she's resting. Best not to wake her" I urged, wanting to distract myself with this rather than another failure.

Dean and Ron did not protest. They jumped down into the hole with spades of their own, and together we worked in silence until the hole seemed deep enough.

Harry wrapped the elf more snugly in his jacket. Ron sat on the edge of the grave and stripped off his shoes and socks, which he placed upon the elf's bare feet.

Dean produced a woollen hat, which Harry placed carefully upon Dobby's head, muffling his batlike ears. I didn't have any extra clothing to give but tore off the arms of my newly cleaned shirt and fashioned a scarf to wrap around his neck.

"We should close his eyes." Said Luna's voice from close behind us, turning, I saw them all, Bill was wearing a traveling cloak, Fleur a large white apron, Hermione was wrapped in a borrowed dressing gown, pale and unsteady on her feet.

I slowly wrapped my arm around her to steady her, reluctant to even look her in the eyes, I didn't know what I would do if I looked at her now and saw the hatred and disdain in them, even though the feelings were well justified and I deserved it.

But when I did, when concern for her well being compelled me to like eyes with her, I found none of it, not a drop of ill intent, no hatred, no malice, just the same eyes I fell in love with, if a bit more tired. Truly, I didn't deserve someone as amazing as her.

A small smile tugged at her lips as I wrapped an arm around her and she leant against me. I almost became tearful at the sight, an emotion made ever stronger by the feeling of Winky pressing her head against my hip.

Luna, who was huddled in one of Fleur's coats, crouched down and placed her fingers tenderly upon each of the elf's eyelids, sliding them over his glassy stare. "There," she said softly. "Now he could be sleeping."

Harry placed the elf into the grave, arranged his tiny limbs so that he might have been resting, then climbed out and gazed for the last time upon the little body. He stepped back with great effort and pursed his lips together in an attempt to stay composed.

"I think we ought to say something," piped up Luna. "I'll go first, shall I?" And as everybody looked at her, she addressed the dead elf at the bottom of the grave.

"Thank you so much, Dobby, for rescuing me from that cellar. It's so unfair that you had to die, when you were so good and brave. I'll always remember what you did for us. I hope you're happy now."

She turned and looked expectantly at Ron, who cleared his throat and said in a thick voice, "Yeah...thanks, Dobby." "Thanks," muttered Dean.

"Cheers Dobby" I choked out, forcing myself not to add an 'I'm so sorry' on the end and trying even harder not to crumple into anxious and upset giggles.

Winky piped up, her voice breaking with tears and emotion, "Dobby...is...was a good elf, a kind elf and was Winky's friend even when she betrayed her master. I is thanking him for that. He was a free elf...in lots of ways." Harry swallowed. "Good-bye, Dobby," he said.

Bill raised his wand, and the pile of earth beside the grave rose up into the air and fell neatly upon it, a small, reddish mound. "D'you mind if I stay here a moment?" Harry asked, none of us had any reason to protest.

As Harry joined us again, Bill was explaining what had happened to the Weasleys, as Ron had now been identified by the Death Eaters. "Lucky that Ginny's on holiday. If she'd been at Hogwarts, they could have taken her before we reached her. Now we know she's safe too." He looked around and saw Harry standing there.

"I've been getting them all out of the Burrow," he explained. "Moved them to Muriel's. The Death Eaters know Ron's with you now, they're bound to target the family — don't apologise," he added at the sight of Harry's expression.

"It was always a matter of time, Dad's been saying so for months. We're the biggest bloodtraitor family there is." "How are they protected?" asked Harry.

"Fidelius Charm. Dad's Secret-Keeper. And we've done it on this cottage too; I'm Secret-Keeper here. None of us can go to work, but that's hardly the most important thing now."

"Once Ollivander and Griphook are well enough, we'll move them to Muriel's too. There isn't much room here, but she's got plenty. Griphook's legs are on the mend, Fleur's given him Skele-Gro; we could probably move them in an hour or —"

"No," Harry said, and Bill looked startled. "I need both of them here. I need to talk to them. It's important." Authority was in his own voice, conviction, as if he knew something we didn't, we all turned toward him, looking puzzled. "I'm going to wash," Harry told Bill, "Then I'll need to see them, straightaway."

After his departure, I started doing what I could to help Bill and Fleur as they tended to the injured, I treated Mr Ollivander and any injuries Ron had from the battle, after that I spent a few more minutes of peace sat beside Hermione's bed, holding her hand.

I knew I could never apologise enough, and that I was to blame for what happened to her, so I hoped comforting her as she recovered would be the first step of my penance. She had assured me she was fine and just needed rest.

We heard Harry outside. "I need to speak to Griphook and Ollivander," Harry said. "No," said Fleur. "You will 'ave to wait, 'Arry. Zey are both ill, tired —"

"I'm sorry," he said without heat like earlier, "but it can't wait. I need to talk to them now. Privately — and separately. It's urgent." "Harry, what the hell's going on?" asked Bill.

"You turn up here with a dead and injures house-elves and a half-conscious goblin, Hermione looks as though she's been tortured, (Y/N) looks worse off than I did after meeting Greyback and he and Ron both refused to tell me anything-"

"We can't tell you what we're doing," said Harry flatly. "You're in the Order, Bill, you know Dumbledore left us a mission. We're not supposed to talk about it to anyone else." Fleur made an impatient noise.

Finally, Bill said, "All right. Who do you want to talk to first?" Harry hesitated. He knew what hung on his decision. "Griphook," Harry said. "I'll speak to Griphook first." "Up here, then," said Bill, leading the way.

The door to the room we were in creaked open, Harry peered around it, "I need you two and Ron as well" he called to us. I looked to Hermione, silently asking if she was up to it, she nodded.

"How are you?" Harry asked Hermione. "You were amazing — coming up with that story when she was hurting you like that —" Hermione gave a weak smile and I winked at her.

"What are we doing now, Harry?" Ron asked, running up the stairs to join him. "You'll see. Come on." So, we all followed Bill up the steep stairs onto a small landing.

Three doors led off it. "In here," said Bill, opening the door into his and Fleur's room. It too had a view of the sea, now flecked with gold in the sunrise.

Harry moved to the window, turned his back on the spectacular view, and waited, his arms folded, Hermione took the chair beside the dressing table that I sat on; Ron sat on the floor.

Bill reappeared, carrying the little goblin, whom he set down carefully upon the bed. Griphook grunted thanks, and Bill left, closing the door upon us all.

"I'm sorry to take you out of bed," said Harry. "How are your legs?" "Painful," replied the goblin. "But mending." He was still clutching the sword of Gryffindor, and wore a strange look: half truculent, half intrigued.

"You probably don't remember —" Harry began. "— that I was the goblin who showed you to your vault, the first time you ever visited Gringotts?" said Griphook. "I remember, Harry Potter. Even amongst goblins, you are very famous."

Harry and the goblin looked at each other, sizing each other up.  the goblin broke the silence. "You buried the elf," he said, sounding unexpectedly rancorous. "I watched you from the window of the bedroom next door."

"Yes," said Harry. Griphook looked at him out of the corners of his slanting black eyes. "You are an unusual wizard, Harry Potter." "In what way?" asked Harry, rubbing his scar absently. It always makes me nervous when he does that.

"You dug the grave." "So?" Griphook did not answer. "Griphook, I need to ask —" "You also rescued a goblin." "What?" "You brought me here. Saved me." "Well, I take it you're not sorry?" said Harry a little impatiently.

"No, Harry Potter," said Griphook, and with one finger he twisted the thin black beard upon his chin, "but you are a very odd wizard." "Right," said Harry. "Well, I need some help, Griphook, and you can give it to me."

The goblin made no sign of encouragement but continued to frown at Harry as though he had never seen anything like him. Then Harry said the last thing I ever expected him to ask a former Gringotts goblin. "I need to break into a Gringotts vault."