94 Diagon Alley

It's up...

A raider strode forward and shook the iron gate.

"How do we get in? The door's locked, Greyback, I can't- ah!"

He shrank back in fright. The wrought iron was deforming, the abstract curling figure contorted into a ghastly face that said in an echoing metallic voice, "Say the purpose of the visit."

"We've got Potter!" Greyback snarled proudly, "We've got Harry Potter!"

The door opened immediately.

"Follow!" Greyback said to his men. The prisoners were pushed through the gate and onto the driveway, their footsteps muffled by tall hedges. Harry saw a ghostly white shadow over his head, and then saw that it was a white peacock. He stumbled and was pulled up by Greyback. Now he lurches on his side, tied back to back with four other prisoners. He closed his swollen eyes, letting the pain of the scar overcome him for a moment, wondering what Voldemort was doing now, if he knew Harry had been caught.

The light shines on all.

"What's the matter?" a woman asked in a cold voice.

"We're here to meet You-Know-Who!" Greyback replied gruffly.

"Who are you?"

"You know me!" There was resentment in the werewolf's voice. "Fenrir Greyback! We got Harry. Potter!"

Greyback grabbed Harry and dragged him over to face the light, forcing the other prisoners to follow suit.

"I know his face is swollen, ma'am, but it's him!" Scabio said. "If you look closer, you can see his scars. And here, look at this girl , the same Mudblood who's been with him all the time, ma'am. It's him without a doubt, and we've got his wand! Here, ma'am—"

From the gap between the swollen eyelids, Harry saw Narcissa Malfoy examining his swollen face. Scabio shoved her the sloe wand. She raised her eyebrows.

"Bring it in," she said.

Harry and the others were pushed and kicked up the wide stone steps and entered the hall with portraits hanging on both sides.

"Follow me," Narcissa said, leading them through the hall. "My son Draco is home for Easter. If it's Harry Potter, he'll know it."

After spending a long time in the dark outside, the lights in the living room are dazzling. Harry's eyes were almost closed, but he could see the spaciousness of the room. Crystal chandeliers hang from the ceiling and more portraits hang on the dark purple walls. Two figures rose from the seats in front of the ornate marble fireplace as the prisoners were forcibly pushed in by the searchers.

"What's going on?"

A dreadfully familiar languid voice crept into Harry's ears, it was Lucius Malfoy. Harry panicked now, as if there was no way out.

"They said they caught Potter," Narcissa said in a cold voice, "Draco, come here."

Harry dared not look Draco in the face, and squinted to see him: a figure slightly taller than him rose from the armchair, a pale, spiky blur under pale blond hair face.

Greyback pushed the prisoner around again, so that Harry would stand directly under the chandelier.

"How is it, boy?" the werewolf growled.

Harry was facing the mirror on the fireplace, a large gilded mirror with a delicate scrollwork on the frame. Through the gap in his eyes, he saw himself in the mirror for the first time since leaving Grimmauld Place.

His face was huge, bright and red, all facial features distorted by Hermione's spell. Black hair fell to his shoulders, and there was a black shadow around his mouth. If he hadn't known he was standing here, Harry might have wondered who was wearing his glasses. He made up his mind not to speak because the sound would definitely expose him. Draco approached, Harry still avoiding eye contact.

"How is it, Draco?" asked Lucius Malfoy eagerly. "Is that so? Is that Harry Potter?"

"I can't—can't be sure," Draco said. He kept his distance from Greyback, and seemed as afraid to look at Harry as Harry dared to look at him.

"Look carefully, look! Come closer!"

Harry had never seen Lucius Malfoy so excited.

"Draco, if we handed Potter over to the Dark Lord, everything would be forgiven—"

"I hope we don't forget who caught him, Mr. Malfoy?" Greyback threatened.

"Of course not, of course not!" said Lucius impatiently. He approached Harry himself, the usually listless pale face so close that Harry could clearly see the details of that face through the crevices of the swollen eyelids. Harry's swollen face was like a mask, and he felt like he was peeking out through the cage bars.

"What did you do to him?" Lucius asked Greyback. "How did he do it?"

"We didn't do it."

"It looks like a stinging spell to me," Lucius said.

His grey eyes scanned Harry's forehead.

"There's something there," he whispered, "probably a scar, tight...Draco, come here and take a good look! What do you think?"

Harry saw Draco's face close to him, next to his father's. The two faces were very similar, except that the father was uncontrollably excited, and Draco's expression was reluctant, even a little scared.

"I don't know," he said, and walked towards his mother, who was standing by the fireplace watching.

"We'd better figure it out, Lucius," Narcissa said clearly to her husband in her cold voice, "after you're absolutely sure it's Potter, then summon the Dark Lord...they Said it was his—" she was examining the sloe wand, "—but it wasn't like Ollivander described...call the Dark Lord for nothing if we're mistaken...remember how he treated Rolle With Dolokhov?"

"That's not his wand." Draco said coldly, standing away, "His wand is a few inches longer—and it's cheap holly."

"What about this Mudblood?" Greyback roared. The arresters spun the prisoners around again, letting the light on Hermione, and Harry nearly fell over.

"I don't know that kind of person." Narcissa narrowed her eyes in disgust, with an expression that looked exactly like her son.

But Lucius Malfoy raised his eyelids and glanced at Hermione: "Draco, look, is this Miss Granger?"

"I...probably...yeah." Little Malfoy didn't look up. "I'm not sure, I never deal with them."

"Then that's the Weasley boy!" cried Lucius, striding around the bound prisoner and standing in front of Ron, "It's them, Potter's friends. We—Draco look, isn't he Arthur Weasley's son, what's his name—"

"Well," Draco added, turning his back to the prisoner, "maybe, I don't know."

The living room door behind Harry opened. A woman's voice pushed Harry's panic even higher. "What's the matter? What happened, Cissy?"

Narcissa kept Draco behind, the boy seemed to be hidden in a dark corner at the moment, unable to see his expression at all.

Bellatrix Lestrange walked slowly around the prisoners and stopped to Harry's right, staring at Hermione through her swollen eyelids.

"Ouch," she whispered, "isn't that the Mudblood girl? Isn't that Granger?"

"Yes, yes, it's Granger!" cried Lucius. "We think she's Potter next to her! Potter and his friends, finally caught!"

"Potter?" Bellatrix screamed, stepping back, looking Harry up and down, "Are you sure? Then, the Dark Lord must be notified immediately!"

She stroked her left sleeve and Harry saw the Dark Mark scorched into the flesh on the arm and knew she was about to touch it, summoning her beloved Master—

"I was just about to summon him!" Lucius said, grabbing Bellatrix's wrist, preventing her from touching the Dark Mark, "I should call him , Bella. Potter was brought to my house, so I should have the right to—"

"You have rights?" she scoffed, trying to shake his hand away. "You lose your wand, and you have no rights, Lucius! How dare you! Get your hands off it!"

"It has nothing to do with you, it's not you who caught the boy—"

"Sorry, Mr. Malfoy," Greyback interjected, "but we caught Potter, and the bounty should be ours—"

"Bounty!" Bellatrix laughed, still trying to get rid of her brother-in-law, groping for her wand in her pocket with the other hand, "Take your gold, dirty Dirty scavengers, what do I want gold for? I'm only after honor—"

She stopped struggling, her dark eyes staring at what Harry couldn't see. Seeing her surrender, Lucius excitedly shook off her hand and rolled up his sleeves—

"Stop it!" Bellatrix screamed, "Don't touch it, if the Dark Lord comes now, we'll all die!"

Lucius froze, his index finger dangling over his Dark Mark. Bellatrix strode out of Harry's limited line of sight.

"What is that?" he heard her ask.

"Sword." An out-of-sight searcher muttered.

"Give it to me."

"It's not yours, ma'am, it's mine, I found it."

Boom, accompanied by a red light, Harry knew that the searcher was dragged