The Choices We Make ∆ Harry Potter Sister

Chapter 5.14

Ellie steeled her spine. She wouldn't shake, she wouldn't show weakness. She could not afford to be a fawn. No, here amongst the damned and the ruined, she was the face of Death. Death is not kind, it is ruthless, conniving, cunning. Xenyk's words rang true in her ears. Kindness was a luxury she craved for, but could not afford. Ruthless was what the blood in her veins demanded her to be. Conniving and cunning were her allies and friends she kept close to her heart in order to win the war.

She nodded once at Narcissa and climbed down the stairs, with a little too much swagger in her steps. She made sure the sleeves of her jacket was still rolled up to her elbow, and she brandished her wand carelessly in her left hand. If she was to put on a show, she should give all of her. She could deal with her brother's hatred after everything was over, if not, who said she would live long enough to ponder?

Once she stood into the vast room of what once perhaps a grand study, she felt her breath caught in her throat. Ron was badly bruised, on his knees with a split lip and what ought to be a black eye. Hermione was whimpering slightly, also on her knees, as a snatcher tugged none too gently on her hair and a quiet whimper escaped her lips. Harry, well, not running to her brother's side and freeing his bond was all she could do. His face was swollen in all the wrong places, as if he had run into a beehive, but she would recognise her brother from miles away. He didn't have his glasses, and was slightly squinting at her approaching form. She thanked all holy beings for his nearsightedness, she needed a few more seconds of ignorance before she saw her brother fall apart. Before she tear him apart.

"Well, Potter?" inquired Bellatrix.

To his credit, Harry did not deign a reply, not even a grunt. She knew her brother, though, and the panic in his eyes told her enough. He was not Harry Potter, or at least he pretended not to be Harry Potter. Bellatrix did not recognise him, and Narcissa- she had failed to inform her sister that she knew all too well who was kneeling in her manor.

So Ellie took a step forward and stood on Bellatrix's side, exactly on her side, reminding the deatheater that she too was one, that she was on their side. "I see three filthy renegades in front of me. What of it?"

Ellie willed herself to remain steady as shock and betrayal flashed across all three Gryfindors in front of her. Ron and Hermione must had not seen her then, or had hoped their sight failed them. She suspected it was the later as hot, white rage flashed across Ron's face and fear, true fear was written all over Hermione's face. The Gryffindor witch had disliked her for most of the years they had known each other, but not once had she feared Ellie. Feared for her brother, yes, but not her. As for Harry- words failed her. He had recognised her voice, and thick as he might be, he had realised she was there for all the worst possible reason.

Bellatrix must have asked her something, something that she had missed entirely. Whatever it was, she had two galleons on the table to confirm her brother's identity. She cocked her head to the side, taking inventory of what was laid in front of her. She needed something, anything to keep her brother at an arm's length, and her eyes landed on something at the far end of the room.

"Family reunion will have to wait, Bella."

Ellie didn't wait for a reaction as she strutted across the room with whatever false confidence she wore on her sleeves, and snatched a sword from the snatcher standing next to the door. He made to protest, but one glare from her silenced him. One glare and a swift flick of her wrist. She tried the weight of the sword in her hand, turning and twisting it like she had seen knights do in the movies, and let the tip of the sword drag across the wooden floor as she returned to Bellatrix, leaving a long trail of scratch in her wake.

Bellatrix was heaving as heavily as a wolf ready to pounce. When Ellie at last stopped a step away from where Bellatrix stood, she handed the sword with the tip pointing straight to the deatheater's heart.