The Girl Who Hid | ✓

|137| Dobby, A Free Elf

Cautiously we crept along the corridor until we reached the drawing room door, which was ajar. Now we had a clear view of Bellatrix looking down at Griphook, who was holding Gryffindor's sword in his long-fingered hands. Hermione was lying at Bellatrix's feet. She was barely stirring.

"Well?" Bellatrix said to Griphook. "Is it the true sword?"

I waited, holding my breath, fighting against the prickling of my scar.

"No," said Griphook. "It is a fake."

"Are you sure?" panted Bellatrix. "Quite sure?"

"Yes," said the goblin.

Relief broke across her face, all tension drained from it.

"Good," she said, and with a casual flick of her wand she slashed another deep cut into the goblin's face, and he dropped with a yell at her feet. She kicked him aside. "And now," she said in a voice that burst with triumph, "we call the Dark Lord!"

And she pushed back her sleeve and touched her forefinger to the Dark Mark.

At once, I felt as though my chest burst open and I leaned my hand on the wall, trying to catch a breath while not making any noise. Fury flowed through my body and I knew we were in trouble. Then I heard,

"And I think," said Bellatrix's voice, "we can dispose of the Mudblood. Greyback, take her if you want her."

"NOOOOOOOOOOOO!"

Ron had burst into the drawing room; Bellatrix looked around, shocked; she turned her wand to face Ron instead —

"Expelliarmus!" he roared, pointing Wormtail's wand at Bellatrix, and hers flew into the air and was caught by me, who had sprinted after Ron. Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, and Greyback wheeled about; I yelled, "Stupefy!" and Lucius Malfoy collapsed onto the hearth. Jets of light flew from Draco's, Narcissa's, and Greyback's wands; Harry tackled me to the ground and we rolled behind a sofa to avoid them.

"STOP OR SHE DIES!"

Panting, I hid my own wand under my sweater and peered around the edge of the sofa. Bellatrix was supporting Hermione, who seemed to be unconscious, and was holding her short silver knife to Hermione's throat.

"Drop your wands," she whispered. "Drop them, or we'll see exactly how filthy her blood is!"

Ron stood rigid, clutching Wormtail's wand. I straightened up, still holding Bellatrix's.

"I said, drop them!" she screeched, pressing the blade into Hermione's throat: I saw beads of blood appear there.

"All right!" I shouted, and I dropped Bellatrix's wand onto the floor at my feet, keeping my wand hidden. Ron did the same with Wormtail's. All three of us raised our hands to shoulder height.

"Good!" she leered. "Draco, pick them up! The Dark Lord is coming, Harry Potter! Maisey Potter, your deaths approach!"

I knew it; my scar was bursting with the pain of it, as was Harry's, and I could feel Voldemort, and I could see no way out. There was no way I'd be able to Stun four people without getting Hermione killed.

"Now," said Bellatrix softly, as Draco hurried back to her with the wands, "Cissy, I think we ought to tie these little heroes up again, while Greyback takes care of Miss Mudblood. I am sure the Dark Lord will not begrudge you the girl, Greyback, after what you have done tonight."

At the last word, there was a peculiar grinding noise from above. All of us looked upward in time to see the crystal chandelier tremble; then, with a creak and an ominous jingling, it began to fall. Bellatrix was directly beneath it; dropping Hermione, she threw herself aside with a scream. The chandelier crashed to the floor in an explosion of crystal and chains, falling on top of Hermione and the goblin, who still clutched the sword of Gryffindor. Glittering shards of crystal flew in all directions: Draco doubled over, his hands covering his bloody face.