𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐠𝐥𝐨𝐫𝐲 | 𝐝.𝐦.

fifty nine

The dungeon's gate closes with an awful groan that the iron hinges make, and then, a clang against the wall. Footsteps from above fade into oblivion.

"Hermione!" Ron is yelling, fists unrelentingly banging against the gate. "Let us out! Let us out, do you hear me!"

A pulsing headache punctures where Betty's temples lie. Aside from Ron's screaming colliding together with Hermione's cries above, the foul smell that floods the basement also makes her head hurt more.

Harry is pacing the floors of the dungeon, kicking the water that floods over his shoes with such unjust. But he is quiet, unlike Ron, as if he is figuring out a plan to get them out of the prison. He takes out a shard of glass that he has hidden in his socks.

"Ron, it's no use," Betty says, massaging her head. "They won't listen to you."

The ginger-haired boy drops his fists, fury practically rolling off his shoulders. "I suppose you'll know that clearer than any of us, won't you? How long have you been staying here - fraternising with the enemy?"

She has expected this animosity - but it still doesn't lessen the heavy blow that hits her when he actually speaks, especially when he is glaring at her as if she were to blame for their state now.

"I wasn't - never mind," she heaves out a heavy sigh. "I told you everything last year. If you'd use your bloody brain to figure out why I'm here - you should also discover that it wasn't my choice in the first place. I'm just like the rest of you!"

"Oh, yeah. Just like the rest of us," Ron retorts, lifting up his hands over his head with pure sarcasm. "Look at what you're wearing, Betty. Do you really expect us to believe that you're a prisoner here?"

Betty's gaze falls to her own body, then she crosses her arms over her chest, feeling mildly out of place. "Ron, I - "

He shakes his head dismissively before she can ever phrase out her defence. "Oh, save it. Harry and I aren't daft. I saw the way you were clinging onto Malfoy when we came in. I can't imagine how many more secrets you've been keeping from us."

Frustrated, the girl rakes her hands through her hair, almost wanting to pull a whole scalp's full of hair out.

"I haven't been keeping secrets, Ron!" she gushes out, "I haven't seen you three in ages. Can you blame me for not owling the latest news to you guys?"

"About what? That you're now in cahoots with death eaters?" Ron drawls, a dark look hovering his features. "That you're one of them - no different from the people up there torturing Hermione."

Betty feels a lump swelling in her throat. "Ron, you know that I'm not like that - "

However, the girl is cut off by the other boy present in the basement. "Alright, alright, enough." He has finally decided to intervene before the useless bickering happening behind him can escalate further.

His face has stopped its swelling, looking impeccably like it did before. The only thing Betty finds different about him is a poorly-shaven beard that is dotting his chin and upper mouth.

"Now's not the time, alright?" he continues, stowing away the broken piece of mirror he has been staring into the past few minutes. "Ron, we need to focus on a way to get out here - get Hermione out of here - "

"Harry?"

A dreamy voice resounds in the basement. Luna steps out slowly from behind a pillar, looking faintly joyed to see Harry and Ron. Following behind her, is Mr Ollivander.

"Luna?" Harry's voice is blanketed with pure surprise. "What are you doing here?"

"Oh, even your best friend's here, Betty. Your best friend's been held prison in this very manor you've been living in," Ron begins again, as if he has regained his energy to be infuriated. "And you've still got the mood to dance around with Malfoy, out of all others."