"Mudblood. Now everyone who sees you will know what you are." There was such pleasure in Bellatrix’s voice, such pure joy; the witch was barking mad and it was terrifying. Hermione choked and sobbed, coughing up blood and snot. She was going to die. She knew it. She lay there limply between the endless rounds of cruciatus and cutting, wishing for it to just end. Her vision had gone dark around the edges, black dots flashing, the shreds of her mind focused on one thing now. The person she hated most in the room. Draco Malfoy. He was so tall; he loomed above her, standing close to Bellatrix as the mad witch had insisted he do.