Katie.

The air didn't just shift—it cracked.

Like a storm breaking open the sky, or a scream that hadn't found its voice yet.

I didn't even see where it came from. Just the flash of runes burning white-hot beneath Adrien's feet, the way her body stiffened—and then the silence.

Not around us.

Her.

"Adrien!" I shouted—but her lips were moving, her eyes wide, and nothing came out.

The net dropped.

Magic-bound, hunter-woven. Ministry-funded, Snatcher-forged. I recognized the weave as it snapped between trees like a metal scream—too fast, too coordinated, too late.

Three of them Apparated from the ridge. Four more from the woods behind.

I spun, wand high, fire flaring to my fingertips.

"Protego!" My shield snapped up just as a stunning curse hit. It cracked across the barrier like thunder, but I held—just barely.

Adrien went down hard, fighting through the seal crawling up her throat. Her hands sparked violently as her magic rebelled against whatever curse was slamming into her bloodstream. She clawed against it, silent and furious, teeth bared as she tried to get to her feet.

But the spell was brutal. Targeted.

A curse built to burn through Muggleborns.

And she was choking.

"No—" I growled, magic surging as I turned, planting myself over her. A wave of mirror-flame exploded out of me, sending two masked bastards flying backward. I didn't care if they got back up. I just needed a second. Just needed her to breathe.

But my knees buckled.

Shit. That flare—

My body didn't just burn. It caved. Like I'd torn something in me loose.

Another Snatcher closed in, fast.

I raised my wand—and froze.

Not from fear.

From the freezing charm already curling up my spine.

My fingers locked.

My mouth dried.

Chains clicked, sharp and tight, as they shackled my wrists behind my back.

"Adrien—" I choked.

I saw her crawling toward me, crawling through the net, into the dirt, through blood.

Adrien gasped—more reflex than breath—choking on air she couldn't draw. Her throat was sealed by that cursed silencing charm, magic clawing under her skin like it wanted to tear out through her ribs.

Caleb was beside her in a blink.

"Hang on," he said, voice low and steady. Urgent. Convincing. His fingers tore at the enchanted net tangled over her back, burning his palms as the fibers resisted. Adrien writhed under it, barely able to move, her body spasming with magic that couldn't find an outlet.

"Got you," he murmured. Soft. Reassuring.

Then—

Click.

A sharp, metallic crack—familiar. Final.

Adrien's body jolted. Her arms were behind her back.

And Caleb was the one who'd put them there.

The hunter cuffs snapped closed.

She screamed.

Soundless.

The glowing metal seared her wrists, and she arched off the ground like the pain alone could tear her free. I smelled it—flesh and magic and burning betrayal. Her mouth opened wide, eyes wild, her back bowing, and still no sound left her throat.

Not just agony. Not just confusion.

Betrayal.

She locked eyes with him, trembling. Bleeding. Still gagged by the silencing curse, but the word on her lips needed no sound:

You.

My pulse snapped.

Caleb stepped back, hands raised like he was still playing a part. Still acting like we were too blind to see it.

But we saw it.

Oh, we saw it.

I saw it in his jaw, clenched too tightly. In his eyes, flinching when they met mine. In the way he couldn't even look at her fully.

He hadn't just sold us out.

He'd known what it would cost. And he did it anyway.

Even after all this time.

Even after everything we shared.

He'd gotten attached—and still chose to gut us.

"No." My voice cracked like lightning. "No, no, no—Caleb, what the fuck did you just do?!"

He didn't flinch. Didn't move.

Snatchers circled in now, their wands lowered just enough to look cocky. Confident. Like the real threat was already neutralized.

And it was.

"Don't fight it," Caleb said quietly. Not cruel. Not triumphant. Just... resigned. "This is the only way she lives."

Adrien bucked again, bound hands clawing at the dirt, her magic flaring like a supernova, trying to melt through the cuffs. Her mouth was open in a raw, broken scream—but she had no voice. Just blood bubbling at the corners of her lips.

She looked like she was dying.

And he just watched her.

Not even like a stranger.

Like someone watching something unravel.

My magic surged again—mirror-flame crackling down my arms—but the freezing charm still coiled tight around my spine. I couldn't breathe. Couldn't move. Shackled. Powerless.

And still—

Furious.

Caleb crouched beside Adrien now, staying just out of range. Her entire body shook with pain and rage, every breathless snarl daring him to get closer.

He reached out.

And I snapped.

"No," I rasped. "Don't touch her—don't you fucking—"

He took her chin between two fingers. Tilted her face up toward his like she was something delicate. Like he wasn't the one crushing her.

"I always did like you feisty," he murmured, his voice a smirk dipped in venom. "That part was real, babe. Guess I just needed you cuffed to finally get a word in."

Adrien jerked like he'd slapped her. Her whole body lit with white-hot magic—and the cuffs burned hotter, glowing bright red as if forged in Hell itself.

She screamed—choked on it, really. Her throat gave nothing but a gurgle of blood, her mouth open wide, the sound stolen by the curse, but the anguish in her eyes—

It was the worst thing I've ever seen.

"You sick son of a—" My voice cracked in fury. "You're supposed to be my brother!"

Caleb stood slowly. Casual. Cold.

Like he hadn't just shattered the strongest person I knew.

Like he hadn't just proved he was just the knife we handed the map.

Adrien bucked again and rolled onto her side, trying to crawl toward me, bound wrists scraping, magic still sparking around her like a dying star. Her blood left a trail—thick, red, wrong.

And me? I fought to reach her.

My chains burned against my skin. The curse dragged me to my knees. My spine screamed. My body screamed.

And then—

I screamed, "You were supposed to protect us!"

She writhed forward again, bleeding, crawling through her own pain.

I reached for her—shaking, sobbing—but the Snatcher yanked my chain again and slammed me back.

"No!" I screamed, throat raw. "Adrien—!"

A wand tip lit up.

I didn't even get to see her face.

The light exploded.

And the world—

Went black.

_____

I don't know how long I was out.

But I woke to cold stone biting into my spine and the heavy throb of magic gone dull in my veins. My wrists ached like they'd been bound, but no cuffs remained.

Just the absence of my wand—And the crushing weight of everything I couldn't protect.

My head throbbed. My limbs ached. My magic buzzed like static beneath my skin, agitated and trapped, screaming without sound.

I sat up too fast and nearly collapsed again, vision spinning in and out. The air was damp, stinking of mildew and iron. My hands hit rough stone—no shackles, no bindings. But the feeling of being trapped was everywhere.

My wand was gone.

And the silence that met me wasn't empty.

I blinked, adjusting to the flickering candlelight—and froze.

I wasn't alone.

Across the cell, huddled near the far wall, sat four familiar figures.

Ron. Pale, bloodied, grimy—but breathing.

Harry. Alert despite exhaustion, eyes already locked on mine.

Luna. Serene, her head tilted in that dreamlike way that made no sense in a place like this.

And beside them, shaking and skeletal, was Garrick Ollivander.

My stomach dropped through the floor.

Adrien wasn't here—she wasn't here.

Panic surged so fast it stole the breath from my lungs.

"Where is she?" My voice tore from my throat, cracked and too loud. "Adrien—where the fuck is Adrien?!"

Harry stood instantly, as if bracing for impact. "They brought you in alone. You were unconscious. You're the first one they've thrown down since Luna."

I shook my head, disoriented, heart thundering against my ribs. "No. No, she was there—she was right there. Caleb had her—he had her, I saw—he was holding her—"

"They didn't bring her down here," Ron said, voice low. He looked older than he had just months ago. "And Hermione—Hermione's not here either."

The silence dropped like a bomb.

"What do you mean she's not—" I choked on the rest. My fingers curled into the stone beneath me, digging in until the skin split. "Where is she?"

"We don't know," Luna said softly. Distantly.

My breath hitched. My heart went still.

Adrien was gone. Hermione was gone.

And I was kneeling on cold stone in a goddamn basement, surrounded by ghosts wearing familiar faces and the echo of mistakes I couldn't undo.

The terror that gripped me wasn't just fear.

It was failure.

Rage.

Grief.

Because I should've stopped him.

Caleb.

That smug, silver-tongued, backstabbing piece of shit.

I saw it.

I saw it.

The hesitation. The flicker of guilt. The soft touches and careful words. He got attached—and he did it anyway.

My hands curled into fists, nails slicing into my palms until I felt blood. The cold stone beneath me blurred as tears welled, hot and sharp.

If Adrien was gone—if she was bleeding, or broken, or worse—it wasn't just on him.

It was on me. And I didn't know if I'd ever forgive myself for that.

A quiet rustle broke through the ringing in my ears.

Harry stepped forward, his movements careful. His voice low. "Katie... what's the last thing you remember?"

I blinked up at him, heart pounding. "The Bell. Godric's Hollow. We found a carved rune—then... the air shifted. We were ambushed."

Ron leaned in, brow furrowed. "Snatchers?"

"Ministry-funded," I said, the words sharp and bitter. "Hunter net. Adrien took the first hit—some kind of silencing curse, specifically designed for Muggle-borns."

Luna's soft voice turned unexpectedly cold. "Those aren't standard."

"I know." I shook my head, throat tightening. "She tried to fight. She was fighting. But then—" I swallowed hard. "Caleb... he tore the net off her. Like he was saving her. Like he cared. And then he—he snapped the cuffs on her wrists."

My voice cracked. The memory split me open again.

Harry's jaw clenched. His voice was quiet, but deadly. "He sold you out."

"He played us like a fucking symphony," I whispered. "Acted like we were family, again. Like he cared."

The silence was thick, heavy with understanding.

I wiped at my face with shaking hands. "Where are we?"

Harry hesitated.

Ron said it for him. "Malfoy Manor."

My stomach dropped. The breath I tried to take refused to come.

No.

That wasn't possible.

That wasn't—I looked around again.

The flickering sconces. The damp stone. The chill seeping into bone.

"The dungeon," I said quietly.

The stone. The magic in the air. The way the walls seemed to hum with old, dark history.

But it wasn't the walls that turned my blood to ice.

It was the math.

I looked around again. Ron. Harry. Luna. Ollivander.

Adrien wasn't here. Hermione wasn't either.

And they were the only Muggleborns in our entire crew.

The realization hit like a knife.

They weren't here—Because they weren't welcome here.

"Shit," I breathed. "Shit—shit. That's why they're not down here."

Harry's gaze darkened. "I know."

"They took them. The only Muggleborns." My heart crashed against my ribs. "They're torturing them, aren't they?"

Ron didn't answer at first. He just let out a slow, heavy breath. "We haven't heard anything. Not yet, anyway..."

I staggered back, spine slamming into the cold stone wall. My legs gave out beneath me. I slid down, breath catching halfway up my throat, trembling so hard I could barely see.

I'd let her walk into it.

No—I led her into it.

I opened my mouth. No words came. Just silence. Just guilt. Just the sound of my heartbeat clawing its way up my throat.

Harry stood in front of me, close but not close enough to touch.

"What happened to you?" I rasped after a moment, voice thin and shaking. "How... how did you even end up here?"

Ron exchanged a glance with Harry before answering. "We were caught near the edge of the Forest of Dean. Snatchers cornered us—about six of them. We tried to run, but Hermione was the one they really wanted."

My breath hitched.

"She hexed Harry's face to distort it," Ron added quietly. "Tried to keep them from recognizing him—jury is still out on that—dumbasses."

Harry's jaw tensed. "They brought us in thinking they'd won the lottery—'the Chosen One' handed to them. Took our wands. Tossed us down here."

"Fuck..." I huffed, burying my face into my knees as I pulled them to my chest.

I stayed like that for a while...just long enough to realize time didn't move the same down here.

No windows. No clocks. Just the steady drip of water from some unseen crack in the ceiling and the occasional rustle of movement as someone shifted against the stone.

I don't know how many hours passed. My knees had gone numb. My spine ached. But none of it mattered—not compared to the way my mind kept spinning, replaying everything.

Adrien's face.

The cuffs.

The scream that never made it out of her throat.

And Caleb.

Caleb.

The way he looked at us right before he stepped out. Cold. Hollow. Like someone who still thought he was doing the right thing.

The hatred was burrowing deep now, thanks tot the silence.

At some point, Luna rested her head against my shoulder. Ron had drifted into a light, fitful sleep. Harry hadn't sat down once—he just paced, pacing like he could walk us straight through the walls if he tried hard enough.

No one spoke. No one asked me again what happened.

They didn't need to. It was written all over me.

Then—

Boom.

The sound tore through the manor—violent, sudden, thunderous. Dust rained down from the ceiling. Stone shuddered beneath us.

Ron jolted awake. Luna sat up. Harry went rigid.

Another blast, farther this time—but unmistakably above us.

"What the hell was that?" I breathed, scrambling upright, my heart kicking against my ribs.

Harry's wand was already in his hand. "Someone's upstairs."

I stared at the ceiling, eyes wide, pulse roaring in my ears.

Someone was fighting.

And somewhere up there—Adrien might still be breathing.

Or bleeding.

Or—I didn't let the thought finish. Because the only thing louder than my guilt was the sound of war starting above us.

And for the first time in hours...I didn't feel powerless.

I felt ready.