Clichés, Kisses and Killing

Clichés, Kisses and Killing.

Chapter 4: A Discovery Only Takes A Moment But Can Change A Lifetime.

These shoulders hold up so much, they won't budge,

I'll never fall or fold up

I'm a Soldier.

'Soldier' - Eminem.

Harry had chosen to walk behind the crowd of Hogwarts students, and he needed no words to hurry them up at all. They were hurrying along the road as fast as their feet could carry them, except, he noticed a few of the older ones who were beginning to lag back a little bit. He waited until they were slowing directly in front of him and then he spoke sharply.

"If you don't hurry it up, it'll be daylight before we get there." They turned slightly and Harry recognised several Slytherin fifth-years.

"Awww," one of them said, pouting. "Is little Harry Potter afraid of a few Dark Wizards? That's funny," he sneered, "I thought you were meant to be fearless, having faced Voldemort all those times. Maybe you just wish it was daylight, Potter, afraid of the dark as well?" Harry's temper boiled over and he stepped forward as the little group stopped.

"Listen to me, you useless little shit. If you don't get moving, I'll make sure you never see daylight again. And if you don't believe me, I'd love to give you a little taster right now." He fingered his wand restlessly and smiled without any pleasure. "Now move." The dark-haired, cocky Slytherin didn't budge an inch and Harry snapped. He flicked his wand and the Slytherin was suddenly in the air and his mouth had been shut quite firmly. Harry raised his eyebrows at the rest of the group and swayed his wand a little, making the boy in the air sway as well. "Will you move now?"

They moved. And who would have thought Slytherins could move so fast when they were scared?

*~*~*~*~*

"Now, you will all stay precisely here, okay?" Hermione paced up and down on the train platform as she spoke to the collected students. "You will wait here, right here, until the train comes. And then you will get on the train and you will stay on the train until it stops at the correct stop. Is that clear?" Harry was very shocked at how much she resembled Professor McGonagall at that particular moment.

Then he shuddered. The thought of Hermione as McGonagall was really quite terrifying, especially after what he and Hermione had just done. Harry still smiled as she finished and spoke quietly to the few sixth-years who had not gone to the Astronomy Evening. She walked up to Harry and looked him straight in the eyes.

"We should get back now." He nodded wordlessly and she took a deep breath. Harry stepped forward and spoke loudly to the Hogwarts students as they sat or stood on the platform, looking at him with trust.

"We are trusting you to do what we say. And this isn't a game, you lot, it isn't fun at all. This is serious. There are people back at school who have been attacked and we don't know what has happened to them. We don't want more of that happening." He stared down the rows of nervous and frightened looking people, no, children, he corrected inwardly. "Please do as we say. If you don't, we can't guarantee that you'll see your old lives again. Now, we're going back, and I'd just like to say that I've loved my time as your Head Boy, no matter how short that time was."

He turned away and walked past Hermione, hearing her fall into step behind him, and started to walk a little faster. They got round the first bend away from Hogsmeade and then Harry slowed slightly so Hermione could catch up. She fell into step beside him and they walked in silence until they reached the gates to Hogwarts. Harry reached out and took her hand.

"Whatever happens, get yourself out of here if it goes wrong."

"Not without you." He looked across at her with a pained expression and she stared back. Harry dropped her hand and walked through the gate.

*~*~*~*~*

The Astronomy Tower stairs were in disarray. Hermione tiptoed among the rubble with Harry by her side and tried not to disturb anything too big. The heavy wooden door at the top had been blasted open and they could see that there was no one inside the large circular room now. Harry was the first through the door and he saw a pile of something that looked suspiciously like people up against one wall. Hermione tentatively made her way over to it and laid her hand on the top of it. She withdrew it with a jump and then turned around and threw up violently against the wall. Harry rushed forward and gently stroked her back.

"What is it?" Hermione stood up and dabbed at her mouth with the back of her hand.

"It's cold."

"Did you see-?"

"No, I'm not going to look again."

"We have to look, Hermione. You know we have to." She nodded so slightly that Harry almost missed it, and then coughed. Harry went over to the bodies and took one gently in his arms. He almost passed out when he felt the dead weight and the low temperature, but he managed to keep his head and placed the body on the floor. Hermione turned to look and closed her eyes immediately.

"Oh my God. It's Professor Trelawney. Oh my God." Hermione was starting to hyperventilate and Harry quickly took her by her shoulders and dragged her to the window to take deep breaths and try to calm herself down. She gripped the stone windowsill with white hands and opened her eyes with a resolute face.

"I want to see the other ones." Harry nodded and she turned around before him. He heard her small cry and turned himself to find her staring at the body the removal of Professor Trelawney had uncovered. It was a body that had long, red curls messily draped across its face and a pale green robe. Harry echoed Hermione's cry and they both closed their eyes to shut out the horrendous view of their friend's body.

"That's it. They're not here, so they must have taken the rest of the school, so they'll probably be in the Hall or somewhere like that. I'm going to find them."

Hermione was still staring and then she nodded firmly and turned to look at Harry. Their eyes burned with identical flames of anger. She turned around, whipped her wand out of her sleeve, and started down the steep stairs. Harry followed, both their minds set on one thing. The vengeance they were going to inflict on whoever had done this to their friends, and especially whoever had slaughtered Ginny Weasley.

Hermione crept along the corridor to the Great Hall and Harry was close behind her. She stood up straight as she reached them double doors, and, with a flick of her wand, opened them.

The sight that reached their eyes was not one that they had expected. Sixth- and seventh-years were sitting at some of the tables, staring down, and it looked like there were a few less than had gone to the Astronomy evening. Harry ran his gaze down the tables until he reached several Gryffindor students and found Ron's unmistakable red hair. He was about to call out when there was a sound like a whip crack and the Hall transformed.

None of the actual furniture changed, but there were suddenly double the amount of people in the room. Harry's eyes widened as he saw that all the Slytherins had appeared, as well as many other, older, people, who he definitely recognised. And at the front of the Great Hall, where Dumbledore always stood, was none other than Lord Voldemort, his slitted red eyes and grey face displaying something that could resemble a smile.

"You," Harry said simply.

"Harry Potter, the very man I'm here to see," Voldemort hissed.

"Yes. You have me now, you can let everyone else go." A shiver of laughter swept through the assorted Death Eaters and Voldemort sneered.

"Bravery, Mr Potter, how typical. Can't you ever think of anything but everyone else?"

"I think about how I can kill you sometimes, does that count?" Voldemort's face twisted as he hissed out some laughter.

"Yes, and that's all those thoughts will ever be. Thoughts. Now shut up, you foolish little boy, and admit defeat before I kill one of your little friends."

"You've already killed one of my friends," Harry spat.

"Ah, yes, the little Weasley. Pity she didn't put up more of a fight, really." Hermione started forward and Harry grabbed her arm. "Oh, look, it's the Mudblood girlfriend." Hermione's breathing was fast and Harry tried to pull her back.

"Why can't you just take me?" Harry's question was, again, amusing to the Death Eaters. And when he glanced closer at the crowd of assorted evil-looking people, Harry noticed Malfoy standing right up at the front of the crowd, next to his father and some other Slytherin seventh-years. For an instant, Harry's thoughts went back to Ginny. Had Malfoy known about this all along? Had he planned it all to get rid of Ginny, had he helped to kill her? Snapping back to what was going on, Harry took a step forward.

"I'll go wherever you want, and you can do what you want to me, just take me." Voldemort raised his hands and clapped once, keeping eye contact with Harry. The hangings in the Great Hall changed to a black and green pattern, the Dark Mark black as night against the background.

"You have no idea how long I have wanted to do that." He stared down at Harry and stepped off the raised teacher's platform. As he walked towards Harry and Hermione at the end of the Hall, he spoke in his low, hissing voice. "I like Hogwarts, Harry, it reminds me of what I can have now your bumbling old fool of a headmaster has been disposed of." Harry's jaw set hard. "But, believe me, I have a much better place for you. And if I had wanted only you, I would have taken only you, you pathetic child. Don't presume to think you are the only thing I want. I'm going to make your life so terrible that you'll wish your parents hadn't bothered seventeen years ago. I need your friends to do that." Harry's eyes widened and Voldemort stopped walking, five feet in front of him, his black cloak swishing around his legs. "Now, I'll see you at home." He raised his hand to Apparate and then stopped. "That's my home, by the way, not yours. You're going to have to do a few jobs for me."

With a 'pop' he was gone and then Harry felt a tugging at his navel, like he was travelling by Portkey, and he was suddenly being pulled away from Hogwarts and dark magic was surrounding him, filling him up so that he knew nothing else but unconsciousness.

*~*~*~*~*

When he came to, Ron was sitting above him, staring down. His forehead was creased and his red hair was sticking up at all angles. The relief in his eyes was obvious as Harry opened his eyes and tried to sit up.

"Ron? What's going on?" Ron helped him into a sitting position and leaned him against the wall behind him.

"We're at Voldemort's castle."

"What?" Ron didn't repeat himself; he just reached for a goblet of water by the side of him and gave it to Harry. As Harry drank, Ron explained.

"We were taken when you were taken, but they put you under somehow and that was two days ago. They took Hermione, Harry, and they took Lavender and Parvati and all the women they liked the look of. But they took Hermione first, they just grabbed her, and I couldn't stop them. She was screaming, Harry, and I couldn't do anything." Ron cradled his head in his hands and started to cry.

"Oh, Jesus. Ron, don't." Harry put his arm around Ron's shoulders and then noticed, over Ron's back, that they were in a large kitchen. There were Hogwarts' students everywhere and some of them were hazarding glances over at Harry and Ron, but some of them weren't bothering. Harry tried his hardest to comfort his best friend, but he couldn't think of anything to do. Suddenly, Ron pulled back, sniffing, and rubbed his eyes.

"Sorry," he mumbled.

"No problem."

"I just...I keep thinking about Ginny. Is it true, Harry? Is she dead?" Harry opened his mouth and found that he couldn't form the right words. He settled for a sad nod. Ron's eyes closed and his breath hissed out of his mouth.

"I don't understand, though. She was with us, and then I lost her, and then you came in and you said that she was dead to...to him." Harry nodded and looked down at his hands.

"I'm sorry that you found out like that. I thought you would have known. Hermione and I, we...we found them all at the top of the tower. Professor Trelawney, and then Ginny, and then we went down to...to the Hall." Ron nodded wordlessly. "I'm sorry," Harry repeated uselessly. He looked around the room again and decided to change his line of thoughts, or at least try to. "What are we doing down here?"

"We're waiting on them. They're having a feast tomorrow night, and we prepare and we cook and we wait on them." Harry frowned. "We aren't allowed to speak to them unless we are specifically asked to. We're not allowed our wands either. They already took yours," he added, as Harry checked his clothing.

"So, basically, we're their prisoners. And we can do absolutely sod all about it." Ron nodded miserably and Harry sunk back against the wall, his head in a whirlwind of thoughts.

"Harry Potter!" Harry looked up from the pot he was stirring furiously and caught sight of a man in a long dark robe at the door to the kitchen. "Report here immediately!" Harry went over to the door and stood in front of the man, searching inside the hood for anyone he would recognise.

"What?"

"You, boy, have been chosen to wait on Voldemort himself tomorrow night, and you will be very grateful for this honour." Harry was about to scoff at this but he caught sight of another Death Eater behind the one he was talking to. This one had Ron's arms behind his back and was twisting furiously until the redhead's face was screwed up in silent pain. "Of course, you can deny this honour, and no harm will come to you." Harry really didn't like the way he said you.

"I'd be honoured," Harry spat through clenched teeth. Ron was thrown onto the floor face first and Harry knelt down to help his friend into a sitting position. The two Death Eaters swept out and several people gathered over them to see if Ron and Harry were all right.

Since he had woken up, everyone had been so glad that Harry was not injured, or anything else hideous, that they had been in reasonably high spirits. He was amazed at their sheer acceptance of the situation and the way that nobody blamed him the way he blamed himself.

His responsibility to be 'The Boy Who Lived' had almost gotten him killed on several occasions, but he had always tried, and nearly always managed, to keep his friends safe. Despite their best efforts. He was carrying a huge weight on his shoulders and he despised it. He hated it for what it had done to his family, and for the way it had made him live, and for the way it constantly put himself and his friends in danger. He hated it, but he had to carry it. And that one fact was the part about it that he hated most of all.

*~*~*~*~*

Draco Malfoy leant back against the cool grey-stone wall of his bathroom and took the towel offered by his house elf. He hated throwing up. Ever since he had been little he had hated the way it made him feel and the way it displayed pure human weakness. But he hadn't been able to stop himself this time, not with all the thoughts of Ginny Weasley running around his head, not with him remembering how small her waist was, how he had wanted to spend his life with her, and how soft her curled hair had been when he had run his fingers through it, or how.... He moaned and leaned over the toilet bowl again.

"Shit," he whispered into his hands as he rocked back on his heels. He took the offered towel again and swept the house-elf aside as he clambered to his feet and stared in the mirror.

How could she be dead? He had thought of little else since his discovery of that fact in the Great Hall, even though it meant he had to hide his real thoughts from his father and Voldemort. And even though he had to pretend he didn't care and get on with it, he thought about her every minute he could. He couldn't stop thinking that he was never going to be able to live that lifetime with her that he had allowed himself to begin to think about. The fact was, he hadn't seen her killed, despite being up at the tower when they had attacked. He had obviously already left when someone had cursed the girl to her death. That singular thought had plagued him even more than anything else. Maybe, just maybe, he would have been able to do something to stop it.

But deep in his heart he knew he wouldn't have been able to do anything in front of them all. His other thoughts had been mainly concentrating on why it had been done. She probably just spoke up against someone, he thought. God knows, she had a strong enough will. He smiled slightly at the thought.

"Draco!" He was suddenly shocked out of his memories of the red-haired girl by his father slamming into his room.

"Coming, Father!" He jumped away from the sink and hurried into his bedroom, straightening his robes. Lucius Malfoy was standing by the door, tapping his wand impatiently against his leg as he waited for his son.

"Come, Draco. We are to go and see the Lord." He nodded and pointed his wand hurriedly at his mouth before he left, and with a muttered 'Freshauras', he went after his father, his breath fresh again. Lucius was striding along and Draco quickened his step to keep up and then settled into step beside his father, his long legs keeping to the long strides. Lucius spoke as he walked.

"We have to see the Lord, he has a plan for the Potter boy that involves the Weasley child."

"Ron?"

"No, the other one, the girl." Draco almost fell flat on his face.

"The girl?"

"Yes, boy, I presume you know what a girl looks like. God knows, you need to if you're going to produce anything that vaguely resembles an heir. Which, by the way, you need to do, so you should start looking for a woman with good hips instead of just anything that will touch you." Draco felt a burst of anger for his father and then remembered Ginny.

"So, Voldemort has plans for the little Weasley girl?"

"Yes," he replied with a long sigh.

"But I thought she was dead."

"Get one thing straight, boy. No one dies around here without a reason." Draco nodded at his father and then stared ahead, his head whirling, as they reached the main room of the castle, their Lord's throne room.

"Lucius!" Voldemort's hissed word resounded around the high-ceilinged room and Draco took a deep breath as he prepared to speak out to his master.

"My lord," his father said, "what great deed did you call on us for?" Draco swallowed loudly as he took a step forward.

"Lord, if I may speak?" He didn't dare look up as he bowed a little to show his inferiority.

"The boy Malfoy? What could you want with me?"

"The Weasley girl, my lord, she is something I...desire." Draco heard Voldemort take a few steps towards him, his cloak sliding on the stone floor.

"Really? Stand up." Draco straightened. "And, why, boy, would you want Muggle-loving scum like that?"

"Her brother has been plaguing me since my first year at Hogwarts. I would love to get back at him and at her through the best means available." Draco smiled slyly, marvelling at his own acting talents, and faced his lord straight on.

"Indeed. Well, I don't see why you can't have a little fun with her. After all, she is only a toy in my game with Potter. I was going to make her free meat anyway." Draco's heart began to pump wildly, making his breathing irregular. He swore at himself inwardly, and prayed he could stop it. "Very well, Draco, you may be taken to her room, and you may...have some time with her."

With a very evil little smile, Voldemort turned around and headed back to his throne, where he settled briefly. "Now, about my plan."