the hallows - f. weasley

- c h a p t e r - s e v e n t e e n -

 Gemma heard someone's wand go off–making Harry gasp in what sounded like pain and shock just before three people grabbed her and tried to wrestle her outside the tent.

She screamed and thrashed her arms around–her hair flying around as she tried to get any kind of hit she could on her assailants.

"Get—off—her!" Ron was shouting at someone, only to be punched from outside.

Hermione screamed instantly, "No! Leave him alone, leave him alone!"

"Your boyfriend's going to have worse than that done to him if he's on my list," A horrid and disgustingly familiar voice hummed. "Delicious girl...What a treat...I do enjoy the softness of the skin..."

"Search the tent!"

"A LITTLE HELP HERE!" One person holding Gemma called–struggling against her desperate movements.

Gemma's thrashing legs were caught, and she shrieked again as she was finally pulled out of the tent and into the open.

She had come out just as Harry–whose face was puffy, bare of glasses, and nearly unrecognisable–said, "I—Vernon. Vernon Dudley."

Gemma saw the back of the same Death Eater that nearly killed her last school term, and she struggled even more as he demanded, "Check the list, Scabior..." He still hadn't turned to her and her captures, who were tiring at her fighting. "And what about you, ginger?"

Gemma heard Ron reply, "Stan Shunpike."

"Like' ell you are," A man answered–probably that Scabior man. "We know Stan Shunpike,' e's put a bit of work our way."

Gemma heard knuckles hit flesh before Ron choked out, "I'b Bardy. Bardy Weadley."

"A Weasley?" Fenrir rasped–sounding like he was very very hungry. "So you're related to blood traitors even if you're not a Mudblood. And nearly lastly, your pretty little friend..." Gemma fought even harder as the werewolf moved to Hermione like a wolf toward a helpless lamb.

"Easy, Greyback," Scabior called over the sneering of the other Death Eaters.

"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," Hermione answered immediately–sounding terrified.

"What's your blood status?"

"Half-blood."

"Easy enough to check," Scabior muttered. "But the' ole lot of 'em look like they could still be' ogwarts age—"

"We'b lebt," Ron called out–his words slurred.

"Left,' ave you, ginger? And you decided to go camping? And you thought, just for a laugh, you'd use the Dark Lord's name?"

"Nod a laugh. Aggiden."

"Accident?"

"You know who used to like using the Dark Lord's name, Weasley?" Fenrir growled viciously. "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. We'll see. Bind them up with the other two prisoners!" But then there was a terrible moment when the people holding onto Gemma called out, "Oy! We have one more!" as Fenrir lifted his nose to the air and snarled, "I smell...a wolf pup..."

His glowing eyes turned and found still thrashing Gemma in the arms of the Death Eaters.

When their eyes clashed, Gemma knew it was over for her.