We land in a country lane next to a pair of wrought-iron gates at the foot of a long drive.

Peacocks squawk loudly around us as we are shunted up the driveway, staggering and falling until we eventually arrive at the huge gothic manor house.

The front door immediately opens and Narcissa stands at the threshold, glaring down at us.

"What is this?" she says coldly.

"We're here to see He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named!" rasps the snatcher holding me.

"Who are you?"

"You know me! Fenrir Greyback! We've caught Harriet Potter!"

Greyback seizes me and drags me round to face the light, forcing the other prisoners to shuffle round too.

"I know she's swollen, ma'am, but it's 'er! If you look a bit closer, you'll see 'er scar."

I can see Narcissa scrutinising my swollen face. I hold my breath, praying she won't recognize me. And if she does? She used to like me - but enough to save me?

"Bring them in," she says.

I find myself being shoved and kicked up broad stone steps, into a hallway lined with portraits.

"Follow me," Narcissa says, leading the way across the hall. "My son, Draco, is home for his Easter holidays. If that is Harriet Potter, he will know."

My heart starts to thud maddeningly against my ribcage, wondering how Draco will react.

As we enter the large drawing room, two figures rise from chairs in front of an ornate marble fireplace.

"What is this?" Lucius drawls.

"They say they've got Potter," Narcissa says coldly. "Draco, come here."

I do not dare look directly at Draco as he approaches. Greyback forces me forward, placing me directly under the light of the chandelier.

"Well, boy?" The werewolf rasps.

I feel Draco's eyes on me, almost hear him shuddering in revulsion at the state I'm in.

"I can't- I can't be sure."

"But look at her carefully, look!" Lucius says excitedly, rushing over to join us. "Come closer!"

Suddenly Draco is so close that I can see his pale face in sharp detail even through my swollen eyes. I feel his hot, nervous breath hit my face as he studies me, his silver eyes meet mine, his pupils expanding in recognition. I silently beg him not to give me away, praying with my eyes as my heart beats noisily beneath my chest.

He frowns slightly. "What's wrong with her face?"

He lifts his hand, his fingers hovering near my cheek as though he's about to touch it. My breath hitches.

But then he quickly drops his hand, swiftly stepping back.

"Like I said," Draco says, turning away. "I can't be sure."

He walks briskly back to the fireplace, making it clear he is done here.

"Oooo, what's going on here? A party? Without me?"

Anger instantly boils my blood at the sound of my godfather's killer. If only I had my wand on me, then I'd lift it right now and perform my first kill.

Instead I have to stand here and listen to Bellatrix get all bratty about us stealing the Gryffindor sword from her. What fucking planet is she on?! Not the same one I'm from, that's for certain.

"Take the prisoners down, Draco," Bellatrix orders. "But leave the Mudblood, she and I are going to have some fun girl on girl time."

I'm pretty sure Bellatrix's idea of fun 'girl on girl time' is not what could be classified as normal - or even sane.

Draco is back by my side in an instant, grabbing my arm and trying to coax me along. But I refuse to budge, not wanting to leave Hermione with his psycho aunt.

"Come on." Draco grits, tugging my arm harder.

Bellatrix is now dragging a screaming Hermione by her hair across the room and I feel a sickness swoop low in my stomach. I can hear Ron shouting behind me, his voice loud but terrified, begging Bellatrix to leave Hermione be and take him instead.

When I refuse to leave with Draco yet again, he grabs my waist and throws me over his shoulder.

I pummel his back with my fists, but he doesn't even flinch as he strolls across the room to Ron and grabs him roughly by the scruff of his neck, dragging him along with us.

"Put me down you fucker!" I scream as Draco takes us from the room and down the hallway.

"HERMIONE!" Ron shouts, struggling under Draco's firm hold, his feet slipping and sliding on the marble floor. "HERMIONE!"

But Draco says nothing, determinedly continuing his journey through the manor, down some stone steps, until we finally reach a door which he kicks open with his foot, tossing Ron inside so that he lands sprawled down on the floor.

Draco, however, doesn't let me go until he shuts the door behind us, locking it with his wand.

When he does put me down, I instinctively lunge at him, wanting to cause him immense pain.

"How could you!" I scream as he grabs my wrists, restraining me from hitting him.

"For fuck's sake, Harri," he seethes. "What did you want me to do? I'm trying to stop you from getting yourself killed here!"

His silver eyes pierce mine but they are not angry, just desperate. I relent and sob, and Draco lets go of my wrists and pulls me to him, wrapping his arms tightly around me as he holds me flush against him.

I don't realise how much I need a hug until this very moment, and I cling to his back, his shirt bunched in my fists. He still smells like Draco, and for a split second, I'm back in the Slytherin common room, happy and content with my friends.

But Hermione's screams bring me instantly to the horror of the present. Ron is now sobbing, curled up on the floor at our feet, the sound of Hermione in pain reducing him to an inconsolable mess.

"I can get you out of here," Draco murmurs in my ear as he holds me tight. "I'll take you somewhere safe."

"We're not leaving without Hermione." I say without hesitation.

Draco stiffens. Hermione's screams get louder.

"Harri, please. Bellatrix can't be stopped."

"And when she finds out that you've freed me, what will she do to you then?"

Draco swallows. He lets go of me, looking away. "They're going to call You-Know-Who and hand you straight to him, you do know that, don't you?"

"I'll be fine. I've already faced him countless of times. He's not very good at killing me."

"Will you fucking listen to yourself?!" Draco snarls smashing his fist against the wall by my head. "I saw him feed one of our professors to his pet snake at our dinner table! This is not some dance off with Krusty the Klown - he is absolutely fucking mental!"

"I know that!" I hiss. "That's why I'm out there trying to end him. But not at your expense! Not at anyone else's expense. Now I'm going to find a way to get to Hermione and then I'm going to take back the sword and get us the fuck away from here."

"We can help you there."

I whirl around to see Luna, Dean and an old man step out of the shadows.

I look back at Draco, my eyebrows raised.

"I told you," he shrugs, "absolutely fucking mental."

******

In the end, Dobby comes to our rescue. He takes Luna, Dean and Ollivander to Bill and Fleur's house whilst Ron and watch Wormtail kill himself and then storm the drawing room to rescue Hermione and the sword.

In the chaos of the crash of the chandelier, I run to Draco and beg him to come with us.

"I can't, Harri," he says, regret in his eyes, "you know I can't."

I glance down at the wands in his hand: the ones Bellatrix had made him take from Ron and me. Making a snap decision, I snatch them from him and run, yelling sorry as I do so.

And then I'm clutching Ron, Hermione, a goblin and Dobby. The last thing I see before we disapparate is Bellatrix's dagger flying towards us through the air.

*****

The first thing I notice is the sea. It invades me: the smell, the sound and the touch.

I close my eyes, immersing myself in the pure tranquility of it.

"Harri?"

Dobby voices my name like a question.

I open my eyes and turn towards him.

"DOBBY!"

The elf sways slightly, stars reflect in his wide shining eyes. Together, we look down at the silver hilt of the knife protruding from the elf's heaving chest.

"Dobby - no - HELP!" I bellow to anyone that might hear. And I lunge towards him but he collapses upon the sand before I can reach him.

Frantic, I pull his frail body into my arms and cradle him to my lap. His eyes find mine, and his lips tremble with the effort to form words.

"Harri... Potter..."

And then with a little shudder the elf becomes quite still, and his eyes are nothing more than great, glassy orbs sprinkled with light from the stars they can no longer see.

Fucking Bella.

*****