Holler with laughter at the pathetic fate of Harry

Harry face look down at Voldemort feet as Bellatrix laughed the loudest, a high, piercing shriek of pure, unadulterated joy. "Look at him! Look at the great Potter! Crawling like a dog! Oh, this is better than I ever imagined!" She clapped her hands, a child delighted with a new, cruel toy.

Lucius Malfoy maintained a semblance of dignity, but a thin, cruel smile played on his lips. His wife, Narcissa, stared with a frozen, unreadable expression, her hands clenched so tightly in her lap that her knuckles were white.

Rose finally reached the head table. She stopped, her forehead nearly touching the polished wood, her entire body rigid with humiliation.

"Look at me," Voldemort commanded.

Slowly, painfully, Rose lifted her head. Her green eyes, once so full of life and defiance, met his red slits. They were dull, vacant, and filled with a bottomless sorrow.

Voldemort's smile widened. "The prophecy is broken. The Chosen One is nothing more than a bitch on a leash." He reached down a pale, spindly hand and grabbed her chin, forcing her head up higher. "You have pleased me greatly tonight, Rose. Your submission is... exquisite."

He released her chin and looked back at Greyback. "She has been properly greeted. Now, I believe it is time for her reward. For her service. Take her right now."

Greyback grinned, a flash of white teeth in the dim light. "With pleasure, my Lord." He roughly grabbed Rose by the hair, pulling her near the front of the room.

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