Malfoy Manor was a ghostly shape in the night, whipped by torrents of rain. Lightning touched down on a hill in the distance, and several seconds later, thunder rattled the windowpanes at the same moment that the front door slammed open.
"Incoming!" shouted the man at the head of the group, a hulk of a Death Eater with shaggy blond hair. He jerked his head at the black-clad people behind him, and two of them broke off, dragging a third person, her hands bound behind her back, between them.
She stumbled into the light of the hallway, wet curls plastered in streaks across her face. She was soaked to the bone, hollow-cheeked, and mud clung to her in gritty patches: a sight Malfoy Manor had seen a lot of, these past months.
The prisoner straightened and said, "I tell you, my father will hear about–"
"Won't work," someone said, emerging from one of the doors to the hallway. "Remember you. Head Girl, you was. Mudblood." He gestured to the Death Eaters holding her with meaty fingers. "This way."
"Goyle," Penny growled, catching sight of the speaker. "You were always a–" Her voice cut off as a Stinging Hex whipped the backs of her calves.
"Keep walking," advised the blonde Death Eater.
With the encouragement of a few more Stinging Hexes, and the unyielding arms of the Death Eaters holding her, they forced her through the house and down, down into the dark of the cellar. Only when their footsteps had receded did she let her breath shudder in her chest. She had been caught. Three months since Harry Potter died and those left behind lost hope, and she had been caught.