Harry Potter: The Forgotten Chronicles- Book 7

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

As the Snatchers approached the towering iron gates of Malfoy Manor, Evelyn's heart hammered wildly in her chest. The imposing stone walls seemed to loom larger with every step, each one drawing her closer to a nightmarish repeat of past horrors. Memories of her previous torture surged, intensifying her panic and making her breath come in short, ragged gasps. The oppressive weight of her fear was almost unbearable.

"No" Evelyn whispered, her voice trembling and desperate. Her attempts to break free were futile; the Snatchers' grips were unyielding, and every plea she made was swallowed by the night as the gates loomed closer.

Scabior, his face twisted with disdain, raised a hand to silence her. The heavy gates creaked open, revealing the menacing figure of Bellatrix Lestrange emerging from the shadows. Her eyes, cold and calculating, swept over the captives, sending a shiver down Evelyn's spine. The aura of menace surrounding Bellatrix was palpable.

With a cruel smirk, Scabior stepped forward and shoved Harry's face up to the gate. "Take a good look, Bella," he sneered. "This one's supposed to be famous—scar and all."

Bellatrix's eyes flickered with both recognition and interest as she took in Harry's swollen, distorted face. Her gaze then turned to Evelyn, who was roughly shoved forward by Scabior. He grabbed a fistful of her hair, yanking her head back to expose her face. "And here's a familiar face," he mocked, his voice dripping with derision. "Daphne Greengrass, isn't it?"

Evelyn's stomach churned as Bellatrix's gaze locked onto her. The intensity of Bellatrix's stare was almost more than she could bear, her skin crawling as she fought against the Snatcher's iron grip. Desperation gripped her as she searched for any potential escape, but the strength of their hold was unyielding.

Bellatrix's lips curled into a cruel smile as she stepped closer, her eyes narrowing with a mixture of curiosity and malice. "So, you've come back to us after all."

The Snatchers roughly dragged Evelyn and her friends through the gate and into the foreboding interior of Malfoy Manor. The cold, gothic architecture of the manor seemed to close in around them, amplifying their sense of dread and helplessness. Each step inside the manor felt like a step further into their uncertain and grim fate, the reality of their dire situation sinking in with each passing moment.

As Bellatrix led them through the grandiose halls of Malfoy Manor, the sound of her footsteps echoed ominously against the marble tiles. The once familiar, opulent surroundings now felt cold and threatening. The portraits lining the walls seemed to watch with disapproving eyes, their subjects frozen in disdainful expressions.

They were ushered into a lavish drawing room where Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were seated, their faces reflecting a mixture of surprise and curiosity as the group was brought in. The room, with its rich tapestries and dark, polished wood, felt oppressive and stifling under the weight of Evelyn's mounting anxiety.

Bellatrix's voice cut through the tension. "Get Draco," she commanded with a flick of her wrist.

Evelyn felt her world tip. The words reverberated through Evelyn like a physical blow. The thought of Draco—alive, but under such grim circumstances—was almost too overwhelming to process. The frantic rush of emotions was nearly suffocating. Her breaths came in sharp, ragged gasps, and she fought to steady herself, clutching her arm tightly to quell the trembling. Each step they took closer to the manor seemed to magnify her dread.

Lucius's eyes narrowed as he studied Bellatrix and the captives, a cold scrutiny in his gaze. Narcissa's expression was a stark contrast; her eyes were soft, and Evelyn thought she detected a hint of something like pity or concern. Narcissa's gaze flickered towards Bellatrix, a look of wary resignation crossing her face, before she turned and ascended the stairs, her footsteps echoing faintly as she disappeared from view.