Between Fine Lines

Fifteen

When Kreacher first apparated into The Forest of Dean, the sun was just beginning to rise into the sky, a few nearby birds sat chirping in a tree, but the rest of the area had an eerie silence over it. He peered around cautiously, remembering Hermione's words as he walked through the forest, attempting to follow the tracking device that seemed to be leading him to an empty piece of trees.

Kreacher's eyes narrowed, watching as a small, fluffy gray creature ran by his feet. He deemed the animal as one of low intelligence and continued his steps, his gaze coming upon a small ripple in the air. Unless you knew the wards were there, or were a house-elf (lucky for Kreacher, it was both), you would have never seen the ripple the magic made. Kreacher reached out a hand slowly, satisfied when his hand went through it with ease, walking into the wards to find the tent that Hermione had described before he left.

Kreacher picked up his pace, walking carefully into the tent, his eyes scanning all of the items that were strewn about, multiple books open and marked upon the wooden table. There was a clattering noise near the bathroom and Kreacher moved to hide behind one of the chairs, carefully peering around it, his eyes widening as he watched Regulus stomp out of the bathroom.

He looked disheveled, like he hadn't slept the whole night, his clothing a mess, with blood on his palm and Kreacher's eyes darted to the table of books before looking at Regulus once more.

"Master Regulus," Kreacher moved from his hiding spot, greeting his old master with a warmth in his voice he hadn't used in years. Regulus jumped, his tired eyes looking down to the floor at the sound of his name and Kreacher watched as the young man fell to his knees in front of the elf, putting his hands on Kreacher's shoulders. "You found me," he informed the elf with a small smile, squeezing Kreacher's shoulders lightly. "How?"

Kreacher held out his small hand, Hermione's bracelet in his palm and he watched his master pale in the face. "Where is she?" he questioned, voice filled with urgency. "Is she alright? How did you find her?"

"Kreacher was summoned by the youngest Malfoy, Master Regulus. The mudblood Granger-"

"No," Regulus corrected him sternly, pointing a finger at the elf. "You do not call her that word ever again, do you understand me?"

Kreacher dipped his eyes to the floor and gave one singular curt nod in understanding. "...Miss... Granger..." he paused, trying to get used to the proper words. "She is alive, she sent me to find you. I cannot take you to where she is, no apparating in for wizards ."

"Malfoy Manor, I'm not even surprised," Regulus muttered. "Okay, we can send the other elves to pack all this up." Regulus stood up, snatching his wand off the table and healing the cut on his hand. "Take me back to Grimmauld Place. If you're here, that means Sirius is home."

Kreacher reached up for Regulus' hand, gripping it tightly as he snapped his fingers, apparting them back to Grimmauld.

—-

"Hermione... Hermione, wake up."

She wasn't sure when she had fallen asleep again, but her back ached from the tile floor, despite the few blankets that Draco had sneaked down into the dungeon for them. She gave a small groan as she sat up, trying to remove some of the dull pain that had resided itself in her spine overnight as she rolled her shoulder.

"Bellatrix is back," Dean whispered and those three words had Hermione wide awake and jumping to her feet just as fast as she began to hear footsteps above them. The cell door opened and a man she did not recognize walked in, his wand pointed at the group of them. "You," he pointed his wand at Hermione. "Up you go with me."

Hermione looked at the others, hoping her facial expression showed one of confidence and unworry as she looked at Luna and Dean before slowly moving to the stairs, the deatheater's wand in her back the whole time.

Hermione quickly surveyed the room, her eyes briefly catching Draco's as he stood to the back of the drawing room with his mother and father, a different type of nervous expression on each of their faces. When her eyes settled upon Bellatrix Lestrange, there was a rage that filled inside of Hermione as thoughts of Frank and Alice Longbottom entered her mind.

She watched the tall witch eye her, her long black curls whipping around her face as she circled Hermione like a hyena circling its prey.

"Why do you look so familiar?" Bellatrix questioned out loud, her wand dragging slowly along Hermione's cheek. "What's your name?"

"Penelope Clearwater," Hermione answered immediately, trying to keep her voice even.

A man in the other corner cleared his throat, "Unlikely. We caught ourselves a Penelope Clearwater the other night, so you may want to try that again," he raised a brow as he leaned against the table against the wall.

"Liar!" Bellatrix shouted, pointing her wand directly at Hermione's face. "I'm not lying!" she insisted. "Did you ever consider the girl you caught is actually the one lying and using my name?" she tried, looking at the snatcher she now recognized from the other day, one of the ones who had been taking orders from Scabior.

Bellatrix spun to look at the man, sending a stinging hex in his direction, the vase next to him shattering as he jumped out of the way. "Leave! You're useless!" she screamed at him. The man was quick to scamper from the room, not wanting to find himself at the end of Bellatrix's wand again. The death eater turned her head to her family, a wicked grin coming upon her face, showing off her rotten teeth as her eyes landed on Draco.

"Draco.. Do you recognize this witch?" Bellatrix questioned and Hermione watched Draco's hand tighten around his wand, which he still kept pointed at the floor.

"Don't think so," he began. "Didn't know we added somebody to the dungeons, the snatchers seem to throw anybody down there now," he scoffed a bit, trying to play off Hermione being a stranger.

When the door to the drawing room creaked open, Hermione looked at the person who entered and felt like her stomach and its little contents were about to come up her throat.

Peter Pettigrew was a man she had only ever encountered once as a human, and then for three whole years he had been a rat, Ronald's rat, constantly around them in the Gryffindor Common Room.

"You found them!" he exclaimed, his beady eyes widening in glee as he glanced upon Hermione, who had begun slowly backing up from Bellatrix. "Where are the other two? Shall I summon the Dark Lord?"

Bellatrix spun on her heel, wild eyes as she looked upon Peter with intrigue. "Do no such thing! Who have we found? How many others?" she questioned curiously.

"That girl... that's Hermione Granger-Harry Potter's best friend," Peter gave a grin just as wicked and rotten as Bellatrix's and Hermione's eyes darted to Draco's face, who looked like he was trying to do everything in his power not to throw up.

"The mudblood!" Bellatrix launched herself at Hermione, grabbing her by the jacket and pulling her closer. "You filthy liar! Where is the boy?" Bellatrix questioned, her face inches from Hermione's.

"You do not have Harry Potter?" Peter questioned with intrigue. "The Dark Lord will be disappointed when he finds out you have failed to collect all three."

Hermione watched Bellatrix's face as her furrowed brow and angry gaze slowly retreated, her hand loosening its grip on Hermione's jacket. She shoved Hermione to the ground, spinning on the heel of her boot to face Peter again.

"You dare call me a failure?" she questioned loudly. "Let's see how those words work for you when you're dead," she sneered and Hermione watched as the Avada flew out of Bella's wand, hitting Peter square in the back as he attempted to run like the coward he was, falling over to the floor with a thud, dead.