(Y/N)'s POV

Part of me wanted to stay inside the tent and pretend I didn't hear the voice outside and that Harry hadn't been foolish enough to utter the word, but the sound of approaching footsteps told me otherwise.

I looked to Hermione and mouthed the words "Can we dissapparate?" she shook her head slowly, A chill traced its way from the back of my neck all the way to the bottom of my spine like electricity.

I pointed my wand at the tent walls, waiting for the unknown attackers to reveal themselves, but to my shock, the tent was torn to shreds in front of our eyes.

As the scene in front of us was cleared of the scraps of cloth I counted at least twelve people, each pointing their wands at the four of us. My heart was in my throat as I saw one I recognised hanging in the back, strolling up to us.

As the leader was leant alongside a tree, drumming his fingers and his wand across the trunk. His yellow teeth visible even from this distance, the person I assumed was second in command addressed us

He eyed each of us, luckily for us Harry's face was obscured by me being in front of him. The first words out of the mans crooked mouth made me sick. Anger consumed me entirely when he looked Hermione up and down, leering at her.

He took a deep inhalation of breath and said "'Ello Beautiful" in a sickeningly playful tone. Despite the situation we were in, despite being outnumbered, I wasn't letting that slide, my body seemed to agree, and I lashed out before I could think.

"Goodbye Ugly" I said, putting my wand level with his chest and hitting him with a knockback jinx, he flew a few feet into the air, landing against the tree his boss was leaning against with a crunch and a snap.

In the second before his friends could react, I ran my wand across the air in front of us. A wall of fire ten feet high sprouted from the floor and separated us from what I could only assume were Snatchers, absorbing any spells that passed through it.

In the next breath, all four of us had turned and broken off into a sprint. I heard the same voice, calling out to his comrades, "Well don't hang about, snatch 'em."

We sprinted through the forest as quickly as our feet carried us, as we did, I felt like I had a very narrow field of vision. I saw thin trees dart past my eyeline, I saw Hermione and Harry in front of me and Ron only feet in front of them.

I heard the "Snap!" of spells hitting the trees behind me and the whipping noise that I associated with most spellcasting, but there were only a few times I took energy away from my legs to counter-attack.

I took one breath to turn my head and almost blindly send a severing charm behind me, either it hit a tree that fell on someone or hit someone directly because I heard a dull thud afterward as something heavy fell on the leaves beneath us.

As I continued to run, my lungs felt like they were about to burst, and as I heard the footsteps approaching me from behind at a rapid pace, I knew it was pointless, there were too many and we were too unprepared.

Skidding to a sudden stop, I turned fully, using the hover charm to throw a piece of broken log at the Snatcher closest to me, it hit him in the chest like a truck and he crumpled. But they just kept coming, like bugs out of the woodwork.

The Snatcher that was chasing after Ron was gaining on him, so I used the leg-locker curse to bind the pursuers feet together and he hit the dirt hard. So now he had some breathing room, he too turned and fought back, taking down several Snatchers in quick succession.

A stunning spell whizzed so close to my ear that it started to ring, and I countered with a full body bind. I tried anything; any spell I'd ever learnt that could help even in the slightest.

I set them on fire, blasted them away, cut lumps off them, I made their eyes swell, I even encased their heads in several vegetables, but they just kept coming.

As a last attempt to conceal us, I shouted "Fumos" and whipped my wand around my head, my wand spewed smoke from the tip like a fog machine and I turned back to run towards the others under the cover of the smoke.

I made it back to Hermione, whose head was on a swivel as she let off potent blasting curses and generally wrecked the forest but from through the smoke charged the remainder of the Snatchers. I tried to fight them off for as long as I could.

"Depulso!" I managed to catch one as his stunning spell went wide of me and sent him flying. "Incarcerous!" I wrapped one with chains. As I got desperate, my spells became more destructive, I stopped thinking of consequences.

"Reducto" I blew apart a nearby tree when I missed a Snatcher, "Diffindo!" I caught him in the wand arm with that one and he fell over in pain. "Confringo!" I cast between two running at me, they both dived and narrowly avoided it, but one had his robes set alight.

I was just trying to figure out an escape plan when I saw Hermione do something surprising and it distracted me enough that the Snatchers got the edge and all managed to stun me simultaneously.

Harry's POV

I saw Hermione point her wand, not toward the pursuers, but into my face; there was a bang, a burst of white light, and I buckled in agony, unable to see. I was confused, why had she done it, why had she attacked me?

I could feel my face swelling rapidly under my hands as heavy footfalls surrounded me. "Get up, vermin." Unknown hands dragged me roughly off the ground. Before I could stop them, someone had rummaged through my pockets and removed the blackthorn wand.

I clutched at my excruciatingly painful face, which felt unrecognisable beneath my fingers, tight, swollen, and puffy as though I had suffered some violent allergic reaction.

My eyes had been reduced to slits through which I could barely see; all I could make out were the blurred shapes of four or five people wrestling Ron and Hermione too.

A figure was casting spells beside them, blazing heat from the tip of their wand brushed my face and made my eyes water, then several streams of light hit the figure who collapsed.

The next thing I knew, we were all dragged through the woods by invisible ropes on the ends of the Snatcher's wands. Back to what remained of the tent. Then the scene was swarmed by others who had given chase.

At first, I thought they were searching the figure I had determined was (Y/N), but then the leader he had jinxed walked over to him. After several grunts of pain, I realised they were kicking him, I tried to call out for them to stop but the breath wouldn't form.

Hermione screamed, "No! Leave him alone, leave him alone!" "Your boyfriend's going to have trouble talking his way out of this one" said the horribly familiar, rasping voice. "Delicious girl . . . What a treat . . . I do enjoy the softness of the skin. . . ."

My stomach turned over. I knew who this was: Fenrir Greyback, the werewolf who was permitted to wear Death Eater robes in return for his hired savagery. "Search the tent!" said another voice.

"Get — off — her!" Ron shouted. There was the unmistakable sound of knuckles hitting flesh, Ron crumpled, but then another howl of pain hurt my ears, but not from Ron.

The head Snatcher who was kicking (Y/N) was hopping on one foot, "'e's gone and bit me! You vermin!-" the end of the sentence punctuated with another kick to the downed (Y/N).

Then the leader bent down to his level and spat in his face with a disgusting sound. "Yeah, tha's 'im Greyback. No doubt" he said, putting his face closer to (Y/N), I heard a scream and a wail, my stomach hit my knees.

The Snatcher yelled out, "MY EYE!" "Better learn to keep them to yourself mate" I heard (Y/N) cackling despite several loud thumping sounds that interrupted it and the sickening splatter of blood that I heard after.

I was thrown face down onto the ground. A thud told me that Ron had been cast down beside me. I could hear footsteps and crashes; the men were pushing over chairs inside the tent as they searched.

"Now, let's see who we've got," said Greyback's gloating voice from overhead, and I was rolled over onto my back. A beam of wand light fell into my face and Greyback laughed. "I'll be needing butterbeer to wash this one down. What happened to you, ugly?"

"Oh look...he's...found a mirror" said a weak voice beside me. Followed by several thuds and more sobbing from Hermione. Because of that, I did not answer immediately. "I said," repeated Greyback, and I received a blow to the diaphragm that made me double over in pain, "what happened to you?"

"Stung," I muttered. "Been stung." "Yeah, looks like it," said a second voice. "What's your name?" snarled Greyback. "Dudley," I choked out. "And your first name?" "I — Vernon. Vernon Dudley." "Check the list, Scabior, and fix the eye." said Greyback.

I heard him move sideways to look down at Ron, instead. "And what about you, ginger?" "Stan Shunpike," said Ron. "Like 'ell you are," said the man called Scabior. "We know Stan Shunpike, 'e's put a bit of work our way." There was another thud.

"I'b Bardy," said Ron, and I could tell that his mouth was full of blood. "Bardy Weadley." "A Weasley?" rasped Greyback. "So, you're related to blood traitors even if you're not a Mudblood."

"And I know this one..." said Greyback in a horridly sinister singsong voice, "The little raaat~" There was a loud stomp and a crunch of bone, followed by a horrible gurgling sound. "This one'll fetch a pretty penny; it seems everyone's looking for you."

"And lastly, your pretty little friend . . ." The relish in his voice made my flesh crawl. "Easy, Greyback," said Scabior over the jeering of the others. "Oh, I'm not going to bite just yet. We'll see if she's a bit quicker at remembering her name than Barny. Who are you, girly?"

"Penelope Clearwater," said Hermione. She sounded terrified, but convincing. "What's your blood status?" "Half-blood," said Hermione. "Easy enough to check," said Scabior. "But the 'ole lot of 'em look like they could still be 'ogwarts age —"

"We'b lebt," said Ron. "Left, 'ave you, ginger?" said Scabior. "And you decided to go camping? And you thought, just for a laugh, you'd use the Dark Lord's name?" "Nod a laugh," said Ron. "Aggiden."

"Accident?" There was more jeering laughter. "You know who used to like using the Dark Lord's name, Weasley?" growled Greyback. "The Order of the Phoenix. Mean anything to you?" "Doh." "Well, they don't show the Dark Lord proper respect, so the name's been Tabooed. A few Order members have been tracked that way."

"Tell me, do you normally go out camping with Ministry fugitives Barny?" asked Fenrir with a snap of his teeth. He dragged (Y/N) over in front of us, "Do you know who this is? His face is plastered all over."

"Be didn' no, said he wah Mc...Mclaghgen." The larger crowd jeered, some shouting or laughing. "Yes, I bet he did. We'll see. Bind them up with the other two prisoners! And make sure to keep that one alive!"

Someone yanked me up by the hair, dragged me a short way, pushed me down into a sitting position and started binding me back-to-back with other people. A body was thrown harshly into view and sprawled out in front of me. I was still half blind, barely able to see anything through my puffed-up eyes.

When at last the man tying them had walked away, I whispered to the other prisoners. "Anyone still got a wand?" "No," said Ron and Hermione from either side of him. "This is all my fault. I said the name, I'm sorry —"

"Harry?" It was a new, but familiar, voice, and it came from directly behind me, from the person tied to Hermione's left. "Dean?" "It is you! If they find out who they've got — ! They're Snatchers, they're only looking for truants to sell for gold —"

"Not a bad little haul for one night," Greyback was saying, as a pair of hobnailed boots marched close by and they heard more crashes from inside the tent. My scar started to burn and flashes of Voldemort passed by my eyes.

"A Mudblood, a runaway goblin, three truants and the catch of the day. You checked their names on the list yet, Scabior?" he roared. "Yeah. There's no Vernon Dudley on 'ere, Greyback." "Interesting," said Greyback. "That's interesting."

He crouched down beside me. Greyback smelled as he had done at the top of the tower where Dumbledore had died: of dirt, sweat, and blood. "So, you aren't wanted, then, Vernon? Or are you on that list under a different name? What House were you in at Hogwarts?"

"Slytherin," I said automatically. "Funny 'ow they all thinks we wants to 'ear that," jeered Scabior out of the shadows. "But none of 'em can tell us where the common room is." "It's in the dungeons," I answered clearly.

"You enter through the wall. It's full of skulls and stuff and it's under the lake, so the light's all green." There was a short pause. "Well, well, looks like we really 'ave caught a little Slytherin," said Scabior. "Good for you, Vernon, 'cause there ain't a lot of Mudblood Slytherins. Who's your father?"

"He works at the Ministry," I lied. I knew that my whole story would collapse with the smallest investigation, but on the other hand, I only had until my face regained its usual appearance before the game was up in any case.

"Department of Magical Accidents and Catastrophes." "You know what, Greyback," said Scabior. "I think there is a Dudley in there." "Well, well," said Greyback, and I could hear the tiniest note of trepidation in that callous voice.

I knew that Greyback was wondering whether he had indeed just attacked and bound the son of a Ministry official. "If you're telling the truth, ugly, you've got nothing to fear from a trip to the Ministry. I expect your father'll reward us just for picking you up." "But," I protested, my mouth bone dry, "if you just let us —"

"Hey!" came a shout from inside the tent. "Look at this, Greyback!" A dark figure came bustling toward us, and I saw a glint of silver in the light of their wands. They had found Gryffindor's sword.

"Ve-e-ry nice," said Greyback appreciatively, taking it from his companion. "Oh, very nice indeed. Looks goblin-made, that. Where did you get something like this?" "It's my father's," I lied, hoping against hope that it was too dark for Greyback to see the name etched just below the hilt.

"We borrowed it to cut firewood-" " 'ang on a minute, Greyback! Look at this, in the Prophet!" "''ermione Granger,' " Scabior was saying, " 'the Mudblood who is known to be travelling with 'arry Potter.' "

My scar burned in the silence, but I made a supreme effort to keep myself present, not to slip into Voldemort's mind. I heard the creak of Greyback's boots as he crouched down in front of Hermione.

"You know what, little girly? This picture looks a hell of a lot like you." "It isn't! It isn't me!" Hermione's terrified squeak was as good as a confession. " '. . . known to be travelling with Harry Potter,' " repeated Greyback quietly.

A stillness had settled over the scene. My scar was exquisitely painful, but I struggled with all my strength against the pull of Voldemort's thoughts: It had never been so important to remain in my own right mind.

"Well, this changes things, doesn't it?" whispered Greyback. Nobody spoke, I sensed the gang of Snatchers watching, frozen, and felt Hermione's arm trembling against mine.

Greyback got up and took a couple of steps to where I sat, crouching down again to stare closely at his misshapen features. "What's that on your forehead, Vernon?" he asked softly, his breath foul in my nostrils as he pressed a filthy finger to the taut scar.

"Don't touch it!" I yelled; I could not stop myself; I thought I might be sick from the pain of it. "I thought you wore glasses, Potter?" breathed Greyback. Seconds later my glasses had been rammed back onto his face. The Snatchers were closing in now, peering at me.

"It is!" rasped Greyback. "We've caught Potter!" They all took several steps backward, stunned by what they had done. I was still fighting to remain present inside my splitting head, I could think of nothing to say.

I fully regained my sense of self as I heard the Snatchers mumbling ". . . to the Ministry?" "To hell with the Ministry," growled Greyback. "They'll take the credit, and we won't get a look in. I say we take him straight to You-Know-Who."

"Will you summon 'im? 'ere?" said Scabior, sounding awed, terrified. "No," snarled Greyback, "I haven't got — they say he's using the Malfoys' place as a base. We'll take the boy there." I knew why Greyback was not calling Voldemort.

The werewolf might be allowed to wear Death Eater robes when they wanted to use him, but only Voldemort's inner circle were branded with the Dark Mark. Greyback had not been granted this highest honour.

My scar seared again ". . . completely sure it's him? 'Cause if it ain't, Greyback, we're dead." "Who's in charge here?" roared Greyback, covering his moment of inadequacy. "I say that's Potter, and him plus his wand, that's two hundred thousand Galleons right there, plus the Aurors boy!"

"But if you're too gutless to come along, any of you, it's all for me, and with any luck, I'll get the girl thrown in!" Through the stabbing pain that danced across my body and radiated from my forehead I saw the figure placed in front of me starting to rock back and forth in an effort to free themselves.

As the pain subsided and my ears stopped ringing I was met with a barrage of curses and foul threats towards them all. Greyback and Scabior both stepped into view as (Y/N) threatened them with everything under the sun.

I saw now that Scabior's right eye had a deep gouge just underneath it and the whites of his eye had become a deep red. "Gag 'im." Called Scabior to a subordinate. But Greyback gripped (Y/N)'s face and muttered something to him. Something I didn't catch.

Then Greyback held up a hand, "You can gag him, but I'll shut him up for a while. Make sure he doesn't die after." (Y/N)'s screams intensified as a gag was placed on him, Greyback dragged him off, (Y/N) returned after several minutes of grunting and shouting off in the distance.

Greyback and several other Snatchers had taken turns beating him. He wasn't moving at all and his whole body seemed to be bloodied. I couldn't even tell if he was breathing, panic flooded my body and I heard Hermione weep from beside me.

"All right, we're in! And what about the rest of 'em, Greyback, what'll we do with 'em?" "Might as well take the lot." "We've got two Mudbloods, that's another ten Galleons. Give me the sword as well. If they're rubies, that's another small fortune right there."

The prisoners were dragged to their feet. I could hear Hermione's breathing, fast and terrified. "Grab hold and make it tight. I'll do Potter!" said Greyback, seizing a fistful of my hair; I could feel his long yellow nails scratching his scalp.

"On three! One — two — three —" They Disapparated, pulling the prisoners with them. I struggled, trying to throw off Greyback's hand, but it was hopeless.

Ron and Hermione were squeezed tightly against me on either side, and (Y/N) was over Greybacks shoulder, I could not separate from the group, we lurched into one another as we landed in a country lane.

My eyes, still puffy, took a moment to acclimatise, then I saw a pair of wrought-iron gates at the foot of what looked like a long drive. I experienced the tiniest trickle of relief.

The worst had not happened yet: Voldemort was not here. He was in some strange, fortress like place, at the top of a tower. How long it would take Voldemort to get to this place, once he knew that I was here, was another matter.

One of the Snatchers strode to the gates and shook them. "How do we get in? They're locked, Greyback, I can't — blimey!" He whipped his hands away in fright.

The iron was contorting, twisting itself out of the abstract furls and coils into a frightening face, which spoke in a clanging, echoing voice: "State your purpose!" "We've got Potter!" Greyback roared triumphantly. "We've captured Harry Potter!" The gates swung open.

As Voldemort's anger dug inside me, my scar threatened to burst with pain, I wrenched my mind back to its own body, fighting to remain present as the prisoners were pushed over gravel. Light spilled out over all of us.

"What is this?" said a woman's cold voice. "We're here to see He Who Must Not Be Named!" rasped Greyback. "Who are you?" "You know me!" There was resentment in the werewolf 's voice, "Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harry Potter!" Greyback seized me and dragged me around to face the light.

"I know 'e's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'im!" piped up Scabior. "If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'is scar. And this 'ere, see the girl? The Mudblood who's been travelling around with 'im, ma'am. There's no doubt it's 'im, and we've got 'is wand as well!"

"Follow me," said Narcissa, leading the way across the hall. "My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harry Potter, he will know." The drawing room dazzled after the darkness outside; even with my eyes almost closed I could make out the wide proportions of the room.

A crystal chandelier hung from the ceiling, more portraits against the dark purple walls. Two figures rose from chairs in front of an ornate marble fireplace as the prisoners were forced into the room by the Snatchers.

"What is this?" The dreadfully familiar, drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy fell on my ears. If Draco couldn't confirm my identity, he could. "They say they've got Potter," said Narcissa's cold voice. "Draco, come here."

I did not dare look directly at Draco but saw him obliquely: a figure slightly taller than he was, rising from an armchair, his face a pale and pointed blur beneath white-blond hair.

"What is that!" he pointed a long finger, Narcissa seemed to notice it too, "How dare you bring something like that into my house!" she said shrilly. "'I's the Aurors boy miss. The one from the prophet, 'e was with Potter" said Scabior.

"Did you...did you bite him?" Draco stared at Greyback. "What you think I go around biting everyone I find? This one's too old, too hard to break." "So, you um...killed him?" said Draco, sounding shaken. "Don't think so." "It looks like a corpse to me!" said Narcissa.

Greyback chuckled, throwing (Y/N) off his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. There was a wet slap that accompanied it, like raw meat. Narcissa gasped as (Y/N) opened his eyes, looking around frantically. Then Greyback cursed him and he collapsed.

"See, he ain't dead yet, still got some life in him. Tried fighting, we had no choice but to...subdue him." Barked Greyback. "You should heal him!" cried Draco, there was a second's pause, "We don't want him dying on our floor, do we?"

"Who cares about him? Potter's all we need" "Well, the Dark Lord disagrees" said Narcissa, "Well, he won't be much use to anyone if he dies, will he?" said Draco.

"Do you really want to make trouble for him Mother? You know what he said about this one!" Draco insisted, "So be it, untie him and-" "-Never mind that! Is it Potter?" Lucius insisted.

'Well, boy?' rasped the werewolf. I was facing a mirror over the fireplace, a great gilded thing with an intricately scrolled frame. I resolved not to speak, for my voice was sure to give me away; I still avoided eye contact with Draco as he approached.

(Y/N)'s POV

I woke up briefly after I felt like I was shoved into a tunnel headfirst, I noticed that I was swaying and I couldn't feel my feet underneath me, before I could understand that I was being carried, I was gripped by unconsciousness again.

The words kept ringing in my ears, the hot breath in my ear that made me absolutely repulsed, the victorious tone that lay just beneath the surface of his smirk still making me want to vomit.

I couldn't forget the words, the horrible words whispered in my ear by the man I despised more in this moment then any of the people I've ever hated before.

The next time my eyes opened, it was to a face, a pale face, one that I had seen before, in a shop somewhere. In the dizzying motion of prying open my eyelids, the features of it were lost to me, two voices from miles away were arguing.

Suddenly I fell off a mountain, falling for what was at least a million miles before I hit the floor, which was a dazzling white. So white in fact it left sparkles in front of my eyes. I turned my face away.

Then I saw a woman's face looking down at me. In a flash, pain coursed through me and I was asleep again. Everything that happened next came to me in waves, "Well, Draco?" "Is it? Is it Harry Potter?"

"I can't — I can't be sure," said a remarkably familiar voice that was garbled by the ringing in my head. "But look at him carefully, look! Come closer!" Why were they talking so loud? Some of us were trying to sleep!

The loud voice said "Draco, if we are the ones who hand Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything will be forgiv —" "Now, we won't be forgetting who actually caught him, I hope, Mr. Malfoy?" said Greyback menacingly.

I take it back, the time for sleep is over, someone let me up, I had to kill that man's voice. The pale face was peering at me again and then moved away from my eyes. "Wait," said a girl voice sharply.

"Yes — yes, she was in Madam Malkin's with Potter! I saw her picture in the Prophet! Look, Draco, isn't it the Granger girl?" "I . . . maybe . . . yeah." "But then, that's the Weasley boy!" shouted the loud voice.

A loud voice from faraway said "It's them, Potter's friends — Draco, look at him, isn't it Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name — ?" "Yeah," the familiar quiet voice said, "It could be." "That one is that meddlesome Aurors boy, isn't he?" the quiet one said "Yeah, that's him"

"What about the Mudblood, then?" growled Greyback. I knew that voice to but the name that passed his lips reminded me of the words and a rage as hot as the sun began to scream out of every cell in my body, the words fuelled the fire behind my eyes, they echoed in my head.

The voice of Fenrir Greyback, sneering at me as I was captured. "I wonder...will she fight me too?" The iteration of the words seemed to send adrenaline coursing through me, my eyes opened wide and my injuries were forgotten.

I didn't know what was going on or where I was. But I didn't care, in that moment, all I cared about was snuffing the life out of Greyback's eyes and enjoying it as I did. I was going to find Greyback's voice and kill it!

Turning my head slowly to stop the motion blur and I adequately made out the shape of Greyback amongst the rest of the hazy blurs. I knew it was him because he was a head taller than anyone else in the room and about twice as wide, but most of all because he smelled like an old dishrag dripped in grease.

I waited for a second to gather my strength. Made easier, much to my surprise by the familiar looking blur bending down to me and what felt like a warm bath washing over me from his wand.

When I felt strong enough, I forced myself to my knees, ignoring the cries from my body and instead focusing on the rage in my heart. My legs were jelly and I couldn't find my footing, but using all my strength, I charged Greyback.

Charged was a strong word, I was so disoriented that I just kind of headbutted his chest. Nevertheless, it seems the shock of the moment was effective enough to give me the element of surprise and we were knocked tumbling to the floor.

He was bigger than me, and no doubt stronger than me by a wide margin especially when I was in this state, but I wasn't trying to hurt him, I was trying to kill him. Mirroring a situation I found myself in my fifth year, I rained down punches on him, not to his face, to his throat.

They were weak, and had little to no power to them, but they were something, I had run through this scenario in my head hundreds of times. What I would have done if I could do it over back then with Dolohov, so even in the state I was, nothing was pulling me away this time, as I heard the shuffle of feet behind me I latched on.

I vaguely heard the creak of a door and a cartoonishly witch like cackle, as hands rushed to separate us, I latched my teeth onto the first piece of Greyback I could find. As much as I wanted to, I couldn't reach his throat, so I settled for his cheek.

I wanted to be an animal I wanted to rip and tear at his face for what he had dared to say to me, but my head was pounding too much so I remained human. Not that it mattered, either way his screams of agony still filled the room.

As I continued to bite down, Greyback had enough sense to start raking my back with his claw like nails since his wand was knocked out of his reach. I'm sure the pain would be unbearable once my brain comprehended it.

I heard screams of the woman looking me in the face earlier and exclamations of shock from everyone else. "Curse him!" One cried. Sets of arms tried to pry me off him, but I remained rooted, hooked on by my teeth.

Greyback's claws stopped raking me to try and push me off. It finally ended when a concussive blast hit me in the side, I tumbled off Greyback and blood filled my vision. I spat out the piece of flesh I had in my mouth and swayed to my hands and knees.

I went to dive on the prone figure of Greyback again as he clawed at the hole I'd left in his face. Before I could there was another cackle and a blast hit me, I fell towards the floor, my head bounced off the stone and I couldn't recall anything after that.

My eyes were forced open for me, I don't know how much time passed since I attacked Greyback, but I was in a vastly different situation. A sharp pain stung my cheek, the taste of copper was in my mouth and the rest of me felt almost numb, as if I were floating.

I found myself tied to a chair in the same room I was in earlier. Black ropes bound my forearms to a chair. Figures looked on in the mid distance, but Bellatrix Lestrange was smirking back at me, "There's a good boy, wake up, wake up, you don't want to miss the show."

She was dancing around the room almost as If she were a child. But my thoughts weren't on her, I was still in fight mode, my eyes were darting about expecting Greyback to jump out of the shadows and attack me at any moment.

"You recovered fast scum; I'll give you that. Maybe that's why he wants you." She muttered, more to herself then me, "Well, it's good genetics see" I smirked. She mimed throwing up to her onlookers, the Malfoys. "Surely you spout nonsense! Bloodlines must be kept pure and strong!"

I chuckled through the pain in my head I could feel a lump where I hit my head earlier, "Yeah, most of the time I do, and from the looks of most of your mates, they prefer keeping family close too if you know what I mean, it explains a-"

"Crucio!" called Lucius Malfoy, I couldn't do anything but scream in horror. The pain was agonising. But still weak compared to the torture I had endured before, as this thought passed my mind. Bellatrix unsheathed a knife and I instantly understood what was happening.

"Now you're awake, you're going to answer a few questions for me-" "-uhhh...let me think. Yes. No. Always on black...42...only on Tuesdays...It's a sled." I answered, "Can I go now?" I mocked, she pouted

"If you don't feel up to it, I can go call your friends from the other room and see if they cooperate, the Mudblood is right outside with Greyback, while he licks his wounds." She goaded me. I went to fight against my binds only to notice I was missing my hand.

"Really?" I said, staring at it. "Sorry dearie. Who knows what tricky things it could have done?" "Yeah, I could have shoved it up your aaahhhh" I said as she slid a knife across my chest. "First question, how did you create your pathetic charm against the unforgivable curses?"

"If it were pathetic, why would you ask?" I smirked at her and she slid the knife across my fingers, cutting about halfway through each digit. "I can do this all night if I have to, just make it easier on yourself."

"Fine, first off, what you need are three mice, a pumpkin and a-" she dug the knife into my shoulder. "Try again." "Ok, but before that, Kiss called; they want their clothes ba-" My voice shattered into a scream as she used the torture curse on me. Yep, that was the real deal, almost as bad as Noseless himself.

"Is that Potter downstairs?" she asked, "Potter, never heard of him. He a friend of yours?" I said as she hit me and tasted blood in my mouth. "Being loyal to Harry Potter is going to get you killed one day."

"Maybe, but until then-" I spat some blood in her eyes and cackled as she recoiled, she stepped back and wiped it off with a snarl. Raking her sharp nails across my face, just missing my eyes. It stung like hell, but I could still see, barely, whenever I blinked the blood out my eyes.

I was going to use that as an opportunity to grab for my belt, but the binds were too tight, we had spectators and I could barely see. There was no way I could reach it from the position I was sat in.

Bellatrix didn't even seem to care that I spat at her, she simply wiped her face, that wasn't right, why would she just let that go, I'm surprised she wasn't cutting pieces off me right now. Instead she smiled and nodded.

"No more games. Tell me or I skin you alive" she said, placing the knife on the inside of my right thigh. "Watch where you're putting that thing lady, I have a girlfr-" I caught myself, but it was too late.

Bellatrix smiled with glee and her eyes sparkled with sickening inspiration. "No, no! I'll tell-" I was hit with a curse and everything went black. As I awoke again, I lamented opening my big mouth and tried to find some way to escape.

But all that was dashed when I saw the person opposite me, bound by ropes and on her knees. Hermione was scowling as she watched Lestrange cackle and giggle at my face of recognition. "Well, you lot aren't very progressive, I was talking about the ginger one."

"Count your blessings scum. If it were up to me, I'd let our dear old Fenrir have you both. But alas, the Dark Lord wants us to keep you whole, well, mostly" she sneered towards my hand. A grin crept across her face.

She got close enough to me that I smelled her horribly chemical smelling perfume. "The Mudblood however, things aren't looking good, you see, after what you did, Greyback, well he is not very. Happy. With. You." She poked my chest with a knife. "Wants to take it out on her since he can't have you."

"That's right. It was quite the effort for a bottom feeder like him, but he has his uses, so we kept him on a tight leash, so to speak." She pointed behind Hermione, "He's prowling behind those doors waiting to see which one of you I throw to him."

"Even in the state you left him in, I'd hate to see how he vents his rage." She tutted, "Nasty business werewolves, they do tend to leave quite a mess. Maybe I'll get you to clean it up" she cackled at the thought.

"No, please!" I begged, swallowing my pride for Hermione's sake, but then it hit me. She wouldn't care about Greyback or his revenge, she'd kill us both if she had the chance. She was trying to scare me into giving something up.

"Now here is how this is going to go, I'm going to ask you both some questions-" "Why don't you ask Yaxley how that worked out for him? Oh wait..." she turned and glared at me, pointing her wand at me "Does anyone here know how to do a séance?" I finished.

"Didn't mummy ever teach you not to interrupt people when they are speaking!" she shrieked, but to my horror her wand hand moved to Hermione, "Crucio!" Hermione's screams filled the air, I think it was the worst thing I had ever heard. I tried to weaken my restraints with no luck.

"Now, as I was saying, I'm asking the questions here, and for each answer you give me I don't like, the other will suffer" Her eyes turned to me, "Just to make sure you are paying attention, Crucio" she cursed Hermione again.

I struggled against my restraints again, "Understand?" "YES! YES! I UNDERSTAND! Stop please STOP!" I cried, begging her, the joy in her eyes was horrifying, "What about you Mudblood? Understand?" Hermione nodded with tears rolling down her cheeks.

"First off boy, and remember to answer quickly, the Dark Lord is curious as to how scum like you is able to counter the killing curse?" "I made a charm last year" I said quickly as she tilted her wand to Hermione's chin.

"How?" "I modified the shield charm, used some other spells and tried to combine them. Fiendfyre, a Patronus and Protego." I know it was a risky lie, those were only the basics of the spell not the finished product, but I knew if Voldemort could get through it, it was rendered pointless.

"What's the incantation? "It hasn't got one!" "Lies...Cruci-" "-It's not a lie. I couldn't think of one! I don't know how!" she sighed, "Fine scum, I'll believe you. But what did I tell you about interrupting me?"

"Crucio!" she said with pleasure in her voice, and yet again Hermione screamed. I begged her to stop, I couldn't even think, guilt wasn't the right word. It was so much worse than that, some horrible emotion that was a thousand times worse sat in my chest, stealing the oxygen away from me.

"Good. Now scum, that boy in the basement, it's Potter isn't it." "No, it's just some bloke, we haven't seen Harry in months, we didn't want to go to Hogwarts because well...this" I gestured to my restraints.

She let out a slow laugh, "Met him while you were camping, did you?" I nodded, she got in my face this time, as if trying to read a lie on my face. Then a smile twisted her face and her voice became triumphant

"What's the tagalongs name then?" my blood went cold, the temperature of my dropping further and further with every 'clack' of Bellatrix's shoes on the stone floor as she strode up to Hermione, wrenching her up by the hair.

She placed the blade under Hermione's throat, and I think my heart stopped for a moment. I didn't know, I didn't know what fake name Harry gave, I was being beaten to a pulp as he gave it, I didn't hear it.

My eyes darted around frantically as I tried to recall, thinking back in between the beatings, hoping to find a name on the tip of my tongue. "What's his name? Last chance or I send her to Greyback in pieces."

I was shaking, I wanted to vomit, I looked at the panic in Hermione's eyes and I didn't know what to do, I looked at her as her eyes pleaded with me, begged me to find the name.

Then it came, floating into my mind as if on a breeze, Hermione's voice entered my ears. "Vernon! Vernon Dudley!" I called out and I heard the voice that had fluttered into my head let out a relieved sigh. Bellatrix wasn't impressed. She sneered at me.

"How are you so well versed in Legilimency? My family excel with the field and yet your tainted cesspool of a bloodline seems to have mutated in some way to steal it."

"It is a perversion of powers you have no right to hold. You use inferior magic to try and stand against the Dark Lord, but in his eyes, you are nothing!" I couldn't help but roll my eyes, "Yes, so he's told me."

"Are our lines related somehow? Not by blood of course, I would never allow such filth" she said the phrase with disgust in her voice. I wanted to say I hoped not. Instead settled for, "I don't think so, but I don't know. I could just do it since I was a kid, like some wizards can do other magic easily."

"There seems to be quite a lot of things you don't know, so I wonder, is it ignorance or...reluctance?" she slid the blade of her knife across Hermione's cheek. "That's all I know I swear. Why would I lie?" I cried at the sight of Hermione's blood.

"But you have been telling me lies, haven't you?" she said in a tone like she was telling off a child who had been caught doing something naughty. At first, I feared for Hermione, I had been caught out, but it seems I had answered all the questions she needed.

"Now, let's give the Mudblood some incentive not to do the same shall we?" she smiled wickedly. She looked over her shoulder. "Crucio" I felt as if rusty nails were dragging their way across every inch of my skin, as if my flesh were peeling off and set on fire all at once.

I screamed until my lungs gave out, my cries only ever drowned out by Hermione pleading for her to stop or Lestrange giggling and laughing at my pain. This went on for minutes at a time, she only stopped occasionally to make sure Hermione was watching.

After a while I couldn't form coherent sentences, but if I could I'd be telling her to kill me and just end this. My mind must have begun cracking, because for some reason, unbeknownst to me, I closed my eyes and started singing. At first in my head.

Old songs my brother listened to, or songs my Dad sang along with on the radio. It was as if singing would drown out the pain, I imagined they were singing with me, that I was far away from here, singing my heart out and having the time of my life.

"-Bardot, Budapest, Alabama, Krushchev, Princess Grace, Peyton Place, trouble in the Suez!" Then, letting go completely, I screamed it at the top of my lungs, "We didn't start the fire! It was always burning. Since the world's been turning!-"

Bellatrix seemed to find it amusing at first, it spurred her on to keep going. It went on for so long I couldn't even remember why I started singing, but song after song, her frustration became more evident.

I remembered my Mum discovering muggle music and pretending not to like it, even as she sang with me in the kitchen. "-Oh, I wanna dance with somebody! I wanna feel the heat with somebody! Yeah, I wanna dance with somebody! With somebody who loves me!-"

It went on for a while, "-There is a house in New Orleans! They call the Rising Sun! And it's been the ruin of many a poor boy, dear God, I know I was o-" I was stopped by a punch to the diaphragm that robbed me of breath.

Sanity seemed to return to me in that moment, so I asked Lestrange, "Was my singing that bad?" and I noticed finally that there were two others in the room, stood either side of me. Before I could realise why, they started.

As Lestrange cursed me again, the two thugs seemed to have been instructed to beat the life out of me. So, my second near death beating today, the only reason I had survived up until now was people healing me, so I was never given the release of death.

After a few more minutes. Lestrange and the other Death Eaters finally stopped, they must have remembered they weren't meant to kill me. Or at least that's what I thought. Until I got enough sense back to realise someone was talking, screaming for them to stop.

"I'll tell you anything, just don't kill him, please, please, just stop!" My vision returned to me as I risked opening my eyes and what I saw broke my heart. Lestrange was glaring at me, but I didn't care about that.

Hermione was looking at me, tears in her eyes, her wrists red and bloodied from fighting her binds, but closer to me then she was before, she had tried her best to struggle free and stop Lestrange to no avail.

My head was foggy, my ears were ringing, blood pooled in my mouth and my eyesight was shaky. She was close to breaking, I could tell, even now, I had to stop her, otherwise this was all for nothing, I tried to speak but only a cough and blood passed my lips.

"Oh, lookie here, lover boy is trying to say something, c'mon, get it out" Said Bellatrix with glee, she put a knife to my throat, but I didn't care. If we gave anything up, it was over. This was bigger than us, bigger than Harry even, if Voldemort killed Harry here then there was no hope.

Lestrange forced my head up by pressing the knife to my chin and forced my eyes open so I could see Hermione again. I began to lose consciousness again, but she slapped me awake.

I looked at Hermione eye to eye and tried to reason with her as best I could. Only one thought came to mind, only one thing that could stop her in her tracks and keep her lips sealed, even if it meant I died.

"...Don't... be a prat" I said with all the strength I could muster. Bellatrix pressed her knife deeper into my throat, enough to draw blood. I could hear Hermione sob but from what I saw she understood.

Bellatrix pouted, "I think the Mudblood and I should have some alone time together, it's her turn to answer some questions." she said with a smile, I tried to protest but she just cursed me again and another Death Eater punched me in the face and dragged me out of the room.