RISE OF THE FALL | R.B.

LVI.

Disclaimer: The Harry Potter World belongs to J.K. Rowling.

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CHAPTER LVI.

She didn't expect it; she really didn't.

She supposed the Death Eaters were smarter than she believed them to be.

It was just an investigation mission. She'd been looking around for any clues of Death Eater activity in the area.

Ariel and Caelum were at Potter Mansion. They hadn't wanted her to go—they had cried and screamed as she had left. They'd clung onto her and refused to let go until Remus came and took them away.

She hadn't want to leave them, either. But she had a job to do, and she wasn't going to slack off.

She would return back to them—that was what she had told herself as she left the upset screams of her children behind, apparating away.

She had been distracted by some burn marks she'd found on one of the building walls, and so by the time she'd heard the footsteps behind her, it was too late.

She'd turned around, pulled her wand out, but before she could react, a spell struck her and knocked her back.

Time seemed to slow. Her heart pounded, and her vision became shaky and unclear.

She fell to the ground, and suddenly found herself unable to move as a blurry, unrecognisable figure muttered an enchantment, and then she felt her eyes close without her willing them to do anything.

Then she lost track of her thoughts.

***

When she woke up, she didn't open her eyes.

She allowed herself to attempt to detect any sounds nearby, and caught nothing. She then realised she was cold—shivering. She was lying on something hard and uncomfortable, and she felt a throbbing pain in her arm.

At last, quite scared of what she would see, she opened her eyes, and was met with the sight of a grey ceiling.

She slowly forced herself upright even though her back was extremely sore, and her gaze darted to where the pain was on her arm, and there was a long gash there.

And then she saw the chains that were tied around her wrists, attached to the concrete of the wall. She tugged on them, testing their strength—and they clanked against the ground that she winced.

She wondered what had happened.

Her thoughts then flickered to where she was.

The image of a blurry figure looming over her and casting a spell over her was vaguely imprinted in her memory—but she did not recognise the figure.

Then she looked around the space she was in, and realised that she was in a prison cell.

Her breathing quickened as she heard footsteps approaching.

"Filthy half-blood," A vaguely familiar, snarling voice said, echoing against the walls.

Reia's thoughts started to race as she desperately tried to recognise who the voice belonged to—but by the time she figured it out, the figure was already at the entrance of her cell, breaking open the lock with her wand and stepping inside.

It was Bellatrix Lestrange.

Her curly hair was wildly strewn around her face, and her expression was one of cruelty. Her wand was held in her hands, and for a brief moment her gaze flickered to Reia's swollen belly.