Confident | Fred Weasley

Chapter 110 | The Cellar

One Day Earlier

Sarah's screams were suffocated in the vacuum of apparition. The damp, dimly-lit underground station melted away into swirling black. Sarah drank in the last sight of Fred, twitching on the ground in agony. She squinted as the image faded rapidly, praying that she saw someone getting up to help him.

In the blink of an eye, it was gone, replaced by a pair of wrought iron gates and a stone wall. Sarah blinked away her tears, peering at the grand, imposing manor house beyond. A grand driveway led up to the doors, lined with tall yew bushes, neat garden work and stone fountains. Amongst the greenery were albino peacocks, crowing and wailing. Even with the late afternoon sun shining, the building was still foreboding and grim. Around the manor, the countryside of fields and trees sprawled for miles.

Montague smiled at her nastily, "Welcome to Malfoy Manor. Enjoy the sunshine whilst you can. You won't be seeing it for a while."

Sarah, having recovered from the severe winding, could have snapped back. Yet, still in the clutches of two other Death Eaters, she didn't open her mouth. She feared if she did, she would burst into tears properly. She couldn't get the image of Fred's stomach pouring blood from her mind. Instead, she looked away from him, focusing on a peacock drinking from one of the fountains instead.

"Enough, Montague," Dolohov snapped impatiently, "Let's get her inside and be done with it."

The others agreed. Sarah focused back on Dolohov, watching as he saluted the gates. Sarah committed that to memory, just in case she was to ever got out of here. Dolohov clearly thought otherwise, or he wouldn't have done that in front of her.

Sarah stifled a gasp when the Death Eaters passed through the gates as if they were made of smoke. Pushed forwards by the Death Eaters, she, too, felt the cold, unsettling feeling of passing through the gates.

The gravel crunched and rolled under Sarah's trainers as she was marched to the front door. Her stomach twisted the closer they got to the building, knowing what—or who—was waiting for her inside.

The front door swung open on its own accord, and the group stepped into the entrance hall. The hallway had to be twice as large as hers at home. Dimly lit by floating lanterns, a magnificent woven carpet covered the majority of the stone floor. The walls, dark in colour, were lined with portraits that stared as she was dragged past.

Dolohov led them to a door opposite. With no hesitation, he twisted the handle. Sarah was led into the drawing room, the most extravagant room in the house. The ceiling rose up high, and two crystal chandeliers dangled down below. At one end was an aged pipe organ, and at the other, a handsome, marble mantlepiece with a gilded mirror hung above it. More portraits, all pale faces and blonde, lined the walls. Crushed velvet sofas were organised around the fireplace, which flickered dimly.

People, mere shadows in the dim light, lounged on the sofas. Narcissa with her straight back, Lucius staring at the parquet floor and Draco with his bouncing knee. The two others were Bellatrix, her hair wild and curly, and her husband, Rodolphus.

"Lestrange," Dolohov announced himself, "We've got the girl."

Bellatrix stood up, her face illuminated by the fire. Her eyes, dark with madness, flashed orange.

"The girl?" She asked, stepping towards them. "What girl?"

Sarah's blood ran cold as Bellatrix approached. Another step, and Bellatrix's eyes widened in delight.

"Ah, yes! That girl!" Bellatrix cackled. "Where's her wand? Give me her wand!"

One of the Death Eaters passed it over. Sarah's heart panged when Bellatrix took it. She had never been so far from her wand before. For a moment, Sarah thought Bellatrix would snap it in two. Instead, Bellatrix examined it closely, before she smiled manically at Sarah.