Author's Note: This is my standard disclaimer of not making any money off of this fan-fiction. Thanks for letting us play with your realm, JK.
I couldn't blame him. He tried to save me.
We both saw the knife coming straight for his chest and I could tell he flinched in fear.
I'm not sure how I knew, but I knew he was about to do his type of apparating to get us out of Malfoy Manor.
But he took that extra moment to spare his own life.
And that's why I'm here, locked away in the dungeon, probably to be tortured to the brink of insanity like the Longbottoms before I'm executed.
It's dark in here; I bet Ron used that device from Dumbledore. Apparently there were others down here, including a goblin.
It would be like Harry to go back and save everyone, even after what happened in the Department of Mysteries.
And yet, I'm here. Alone. With the dead body of Wormtail to keep me company.
Footfalls alerted me of someone coming down the stairs, but as I was behind bars, there was nowhere I could really hide.
"Granger." The voice was flat and raspy; and I could tell it belonged to someone as resigned as I was in this war. Lights came on, and it was almost too much for my eyes.
As she came down the stairs, the poise and grace she had stood starkly against the tattered and spell-torn robes she wore. Her robes were supposed to be pale blue, but now were stained with the brown of drying blood.
Her ice-blue eyes met mine, and the sheer flatness of them made the floor drop out from beneath me. Those same eyes were dead as they stared at me as Bellatrix tortured me. She had just stood there and watched helplessly as her deranged sister had her way with me in front of everyone.
"Forgive me if I don't offer my condolences, Mrs. Malfoy." I said, mustering the last of my Gryffindor Bravado. If she was going to hex or kill me, I'd rather have her be angry at me than look so broken.
"That was my son's wand. That it worked well enough for you to have done that is just..." She seemed confused and disgusted. "unexpected."
I had sliced the man in half with the Sectumsempra curse. I only regret having done it so low on his abdomen that it bisected his colon. The smell was probably going to haunt me for the rest of my life.
"So what's to happen with me? Azkaban? More torture by your sister? Or is it too much to ask for a swift death?" My voice quivered as I asked. I didn't want to die, but what else could happen? You-Know-Who was on his way and angry, Harry had said.
"The Dark Lord is very angry over the loss of Potter, and not so much over my husband. In fact, he is quite... 'fascinated' with you." She said the word with a bit of disgust, but I could have sworn she had pity. "My son's wand had switched allegiances to you apparently, and with it, you have claimed certain spoils of war."
"I had heard that wands choose their wizards, but what other spoils of war are you speaking of?"
"You defeated my husband on his own land in a duel. Pureblood tradition states that you claim all that was his."
My mind flashed through the entire ordeal. Dobby and my boys attacked, I got away from Bellatrix, and Dobby took one step to the left as the knife severed his arm and they all disappeared. I fell upon a severed arm and a wand was pressing between me and the floor, and I used it to cleave Lucius in half. The wand was mine. The duel was mine. The Manor was mine.
"Including his wife."