Feeling the walls for he hardly knew what, knowing in his heart that it was useless.

“What else did you take, what else? ANSWER ME! CRUCIO!”

Hermione’s screams echoed off the walls upstairs, Ron was half sobbing as he

pounded the walls with his fists, and Harry in utter desperation seized Hagrid’s pouch

from around his neck and groped inside it: He pulled out Dumbledore’s Snitch and shook

it, hoping for he did not know what – nothing happened – he waved the broken halves of

the phoenix wand, but they were lifeless – the mirror fragment fell sparkling to the floor,

and he saw a gleam of brightest blue –

Dumbledore’s eye was gazing at him out of the mirror.

“Help us!” he yelled at it in mad desperation. “We’re in the cellar of Malfoy

Manor, help us!”

The eye blinked and was gone.

Harry was not even sure that it had really been there. He tilted the shard of mirror

This way and that, and saw nothing reflected there but the walls and ceiling of their prison,

And upstairs Hermione was screaming worse than ever, and next to him Ron was

bellowing, “HERMIONE! HERMIONE!”

“How did you get into my vault?” they heard Bellatrix scream. “Did that dirty

little goblin in the cellar help you?”

“We only met him tonight!” Hermione sobbed. “We’ve never been inside your

vault. . . . It isn’t the real sword! It’s a copy, just a copy!”

“A copy?” screeched Bellatrix. “Oh, a likely story!”

“But we can find out easily!” came Lucius’s voice. “Draco, fetch the goblin, he

can tell us whether the sword is real or not!”

Harry dashed across the cellar to where Griphook was huddled on the floor.

“Griphook,” he whispered into the goblin’s pointed ear, “you must tell them that

sword’s a fake, they mustn’t know it’s the real one, Griphook, please –“

He could hear someone scuttling own the cellar steps; next moment, Draco’s

Shaking voice spoke from behind the door.

“Stand back. Line up against the back wall. Don’t try anything, or I’ll kill you!”

They did as they were bidden; as the lock turned, Ron clicked the Deluminator

and the lights whisked back into his pocket, restoring the cellar’s darkness. The door flew

Open; Malfoy marched inside, wand held out in front of him, pale and determined. He

Seized the little goblin by the arm and backed out again, dragging Griphook with him.

The door slammed shut and at the same moment a loud crack echoed inside the cellar.

Ron clicked the Deluminator. Three balls of light flew back into the air from his

Pocket, revealing Dobby the house-elf, who had just Apparated into their midst.

“DOB – !”

Harry hit Ron on the arm to stop him shouting, and Ron looked terrified at his

mistake. Footsteps crossed the ceiling overhead: Draco marching Griphook to Bellatrix.

Dobby’s enormous, tennis-ball shaped eyes were wide; he was trembling from his

Feet to the tips of his ears. He was back in the home of his old masters, and it was clear

That he was petrified.

“Harry Potter,” he squeaked in the tiniest quiver of a voice, “Dobby has come to

rescue you.”

“But how did you – ?”

An awful scream drowned Harry’s words: Hermione was being tortured again. He

Cut to the essentials.

“You can Disapparate out of this cellar?” he asked Dobby, who nodded, his ears

Flapping.

“And you can take humans with you?”

Date: 2015-12-11; view: 714