Lucius froze, his index finger hovering over his own Mark. Bellatrix strode out of Harry’s limited line of vision. “What is that?” he heard her say. “Sword,” grunted an out-of-sight Snatcher. “Give it to me.” “It’s not yours, missus, it’s mine, I reckon I found it.” There was a bang and a flash of red light; Harry knew that the Snatcher had been Stunned. There was a roar of anger from his fellows: Scabior drew his wand. “What d’you think you’re playing at, woman?” “Stupefy!” she screamed, ”Stupefy!” They were no match for her, even thought there were four of them against one of her: She was a witch, as Harry knew, with prodigious skill and no conscience. They fell where they stood, all except Greyback, who had been forced into a kneeling position, his arms outstretched.

Chapter 2