My gaze flicks from the Dark Lord to Bellatrix. Both faces show the same look of incredulous surprise. Bellatrix throws her arm up and her voice falters at the last word, but the curse has already left her wand. It doesn't quite miss me, but doesn't really hit me either. Instead, it grazes my rib cage just below my armpit. The fabric of my long-sleeved top sizzles as a part of the curse seeps through. The rest of it slams into the shelf behind me, accompanied by a massive blast of dark magic.