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Chapter 39 'The Lightning-Struck Tower'

Chapter 39 ‘The Lightning-Struck Tower’

Standing against the ramparts, very white in the face, Dumbledore still showed no sign of panic or distress. He merely looked around and said, “Good evening, Bellatrix,” as Bellatrix entered the astronomy tower, dragging along Evanna who kept resisting her hold.

There was yelling from below, rather louder than the last. Evanna looked nervously over her shoulder, then at Dumbledore and rested her worried pleading eyes on Draco.

Draco had not spoken. His mouth was open, his wand hand trembling. Evanna thought she saw it drop by a fraction.

“Well done, Draco,” Bellatrix whispered in Draco’s ears and his mouth knotted involuntarily.

“Draco, don’t…” Evanna breathed.

Draco acted like he hadn’t heard anything and Bellatrix whispered something under her breath and an ear-splitting scream left Evanna’s mouth as the cruciatus cruse did its work.  Agonizing pain went through Evanna’s body and she fell to the floor with a loud thud. Though the curse lasted for not more than a second but it was enough to leave Evanna breathless.

Draco’s head snapped to where Evanna had fallen. He looked down at his body and then again at Evanna in shock.  Evanna looked in his eyes pleadingly but he abruptly averted his eyes.

“Draco, get it done with,” Bellatrix snarled loudly as she saw them exchanging looks.

Before Draco could react, sudden footsteps were thundering up the stairs and a second later Draco was buffeted out of the way as four people in black robes burst through the door on to the ramparts. Evanna’s eyes stared unblinkingly. She gazed in terror upon the four strangers. It seemed the Death Eaters had won the fight below.

A lumpy-looking man with an odd lopsided leer gave a wheezy giggle.

“Dumbledore cornered!” he said, and he turned to a stocky little woman who looked as though she could be his sister and who was grinning eagerly. “Dumbledore wandless, Dumbledore alone! Well done, Draco, well done!”

“Good evening, Amycus,” said Dumbledore calmly, as though welcoming the man to a tea party. “And you’ve brought Alecto too… charming…”

The woman gave an angry little titter.

“Think your little jokes’ll help you on your death bed, then?” she jeered.

“Jokes? No, no, these are manners,” replied Dumbledore.

“Do it,” said the stranger standing nearest to Evanna who had managed to stand up. He was a big, rangy man with matted grey hair and whiskers, whose black Death Eater’s robes looked uncomfortably tight. He had a voice that Evanna knew she had heard: a rasping bark of a voice. She could smell a powerful mixture of dirt, sweat and, unmistakeably, of blood coming from him. His filthy hands had long yellowish nails.

“Is that you, Fenrir?” asked Dumbledore.

“That’s right,” he rasped, “Pleased to see me, Dumbledore?”

“No, I cannot say that I am…”

Fenrir Greyback grinned, showing pointed teeth. Blood trickled down his chin and he licked his lips slowly, obscenely.

“But you know how much I like kids, Dumbledore.”

“Am I to take it that you are attacking even without the full moon now? This is most unusual… you have developed a taste for human flesh that cannot be satisfied once a month?”

“That’s right,” said Greyback. “Shocks you, that, does it, Dumbledore? Frightens you?”

“Well, I cannot pretend it does not disgust me a little,” said Dumbledore. “And, yes, I am a little shocked that Draco here invited you, of all people, into the school where his friends live…”