Clichés, Kisses and Killing

Clichés, Kisses and Killing.

Chapter 10: The Beginning of the End.

'I'll love you more with every breath

Truly, madly, deeply do

I will be strong I will be faithful

'cause I'm counting on

A new beginning

A reason for living

A deeper meaning.'

Truly Madly Deeply - Savage Garden.

"Well, well, well. Potter, you've got a little more than we reckoned, haven't you?" Voldemort's eyes became more slitted than usual. "Gives me a lot more to take." He smiled cruelly and took a step forward, recovering from his shock of a few moments ago. "I must admit you have shocked me a little though, I never imagined you'd have so much of Dumbledore's power behind you."

"It's my power not Dumbledore's," Harry spat back fiercely, his earlier disbelief gone and some of his courage returning.

"Foolish boy. I've been fighting that old man since before you were born, don't you think I know exactly what his power smells like, what it feels like?" Harry froze at the words and Voldemort laughed viciously. "You can't win a fight unless you know your opponent, child."

"You can if you have more power than them." Everyone stared at Hermione, shocked by her violent words, and Voldemort's eyes narrowed yet again.

"Brave words, little Mudblood. Try not to speak again, whore, I'd hate to have to kill you before I get the pleasure of killing your boyfriend in front of you." Hermione shrank back slightly and Ron started forward, until Harry stuck one hand out behind him almost imperceptibly.

"Leave him," he whispered.

"Wise advice, Potter, tell your friends to steer clear of me, after all, I can't reach them if you're in front of them, can I?" Voldemort's mocking voice set Harry's teeth on edge and his hands automatically curled into fists. "Stupid child. You think your little show with the Dementors has proved anything? They are still mine to control, mine to use as I crush your useless existence into nothingness."

Harry could still feel the Dementors presence in the back of his mind, and was vaguely aware of holding them still. He realised they were poised and waiting for the command from the one who was controlling them. And that thought froze Harry down to his toes.

From the one who was controlling them.

"What did Lucius just say about stupidity?" A smile spread slightly across his mouth and Voldemort faltered for a split second.

"What, boy?"

"Stupidity is never accepted, I think that's what it was. Well I think you should start paying attention to him."

As Voldemort watched, Harry raised his right hand and closed his eyes. When he opened them again, blue fire glowed inside the green. A surge of something that felt almost like wind blew across the room and the Dementors were suddenly in action.

The Death Eaters fell as they were attacked suddenly, giving them no time to conjure up anything against the merciless assault. Harry watched Voldemort closely as the Dark Lord narrowed his eyes and stared across the hall, his supporters falling like ninepins to the Dementors' attack.

He made no move to help. He didn't try to stop the vicious, silent killers; he simply watched them. And then he turned his head and glared straight at Harry.

Suddenly a deathly hush fell over the whole hall and the Dementors froze, as if a button had been pushed. It was as if some invisible power was drawing everyone's eyes to the end of the room, and there, on a raised dais fixed on the far wall, stood a tall, thin woman with a long sheet of pale blond hair and robes of a silvery blue colour. Harry felt like he had to suck in his breath as she took several steps down off the dais and glided seamlessly across the floor.

To everyone's surprise she moved straight up to Draco and gripped his face in one hand. By the look on his face, Draco was obviously surprised by the woman's strength

"Draco, it seems an age since I last saw this face. You have grown so very much."

"Well I was about two years old, if I hadn't grown I think we'd all be worried." Dead silence followed this comment, most people, Harry estimated, surprised that Draco could still make flippant remarks with his face in the grip of someone who was obviously a startlingly powerful witch. It was to the surprise of everyone when she threw back her head and laughed.

"Ah, Draco, its so refreshing to see such dry wit in young people these days. So many of them are such simple creatures. I see you have not let yourself sink to that level. I do hope you retain your parents' pride and their disdain for such monotonous existences. Don't reject their principled influence."

Draco ripped himself away from her hand so fast Harry almost didn't see it. His face contorted into an ugly expression and he sneered at her.

"I'll reject whatever parts of my parents I fucking well want," he hissed. "Their influence isn't principled, it's sick and it's fascist. This whole system is bullshit, and you're the worst perpetrator. You stand for something that stands for cruelty and you parade as someone spiritual. I've been told that I'm a disgrace to my family and to this...this farce of an organisation, but if I'm completely honest, there's nothing I'd rather be. As I told my father, if anyone is a disgrace, it's you people, and it is especially you." His eyes bored straight into her face, which remained passive, a mild smile stretched across it. "The great Morienda Enfero, ladies and gentlemen. Yes, that's you, the great fucking cold-blooded murderer."

And for the first time, her eyes showed some sign of having heard exactly what he was saying. She opened her mouth and the voice that emerged was no longer serene and calming, but had transferred to a harsh hiss that made her sound truly like a member of Voldemort's unit.

"Don't raise your voice to me, child, you know nothing of what I have done, or what I can do. But if you continue to show me this insolence you will be a first hand example of what I can do." Draco held her gaze and they could see her gradually become angrier as he deliberately refused to acknowledge her importance. She opened her mouth to speak but was cut off as someone else spoke instead.

"Leave him, my sweet, he is going to be punished for his misdemeanours." She turned to look at Voldemort as his eyes bored across the room, still concentrating only on Harry.

"Oh God," Harry whispered, as he realised this was it.

This was when his life would take its most important turn.

This was when it would end, or start anew.

Breathing out, he stole a glance across at Hermione. Or rather at the broken shell that had been his beautiful, vibrant girlfriend. And his resolve was set.

Someone would die here tonight, but he was going to make damn sure it wouldn't be him until he had had his revenge.

*~*~*~*~*

Draco knew this would be the end of some people, he could quite simply feel it buzzing in the air as the entire room blazed into action. And from the corner of his eye he saw his father storm his way towards the group, towards his son in particular.

But then Draco realised his mistake. For Lucius was not aiming for Draco at all, but for someone very close to his heart.

"Draco!" Ginny's scream ran through his brain like a sliver of ice and Draco turned to see his father drag her off across the room. Pushing her up against a wall, he gripped her face and stared down at her, his mouth moving slightly to form words that Draco couldn't hear.

Not that he cared what was being said, he just wanted Ginny out of his father's grip as her face was frozen in an expression of pain and pure terror. His wand was out before he knew it, and his feet were taking him across to face the one person he had always feared above anyone else.

He didn't even have time to think of a curse he just barraged Lucius on to the floor, pushing him away from Ginny with all his strength.

"Get the fuck away from her."

"Stop tainting your life with such scum, boy," Lucius spat as he rose off the ground, looking far too graceful as he did it.

"She is the only thing that's worth shit in my life, father, and you won't touch her with your filth. She's too pure for your foul, polluted moral fibre to understand." Draco could see the anger building behind his father's gaze; he'd seen it countless times before, and in his mind's eye he could see parts of his childhood flashing before him. The first time he had ever disobeyed his father's orders, taking his broom out age ten and being subjected to the Cruciatus curse until he had screamed for mercy. The first time he had spoken out of turn, after seeing Lucius strike his mother twice across the face, and his consequent punishment for not seeing that his father was always right.

"Did I not teach you right when you were growing up, child?" He took a step closer to Draco's shaking body. "Did I not show you the right path?" He took another step and Draco had to fight himself not to back away.

"No," he spat. "You never taught me the right path, father. You taught me your path, and that is about as far from the right path as you can get. I tortured other students through my younger years, just because you told me what was right and wrong. But your reasoning is fucked up."

"Don't you dare use that language when you talk to me, Draco!" Lucius spat out his son's name and Draco flinched as if it had hit him with a sharp slap. "You are a useless son, boy, a useless human being, good for nothing. You are a pathetic excuse for a son. And I have never been so disappointed and ashamed that I could produce something so disobedient and inadequate."

Draco stared down for an instant, his fury rolling up inside him in waves as he fought not to just swing his fist into his father's face. He looked up to see Ginny pressed against the wall watching them both in fear and his father still staring fixedly at his stony, wrathful face. When he spoke the rage in his voice made his words shake as they fell from his lips, as fast as he could so he wouldn't lose his nerve halfway through.

"I'm not a pathetic excuse for a son, father," he spat viciously. "In fact, I'm a fucking miracle because I have taken the curse you have given me and have borne it well since the day I came into this world."

"And what curse would that be, exactly?" Lucius' voice was low and dangerous.

"The name of Malfoy. You gave me this name and people have feared me, worshipped me, and hated me for it. And none of it is my doing. I lived up to their expectations and I tried to live up to yours. But, let's face it, I never will. Not until I become the same, heartless bastard that you are. Not until I hate everyone who's different and poor and brave and everyone that fights for something good purely because it isn't evil. You fight for power, and it's not even for anyone but yourself. You fight for yourself, and you enjoy it immensely because you like to see other people in pain. You are a sick, twisted, sadistic, power-obsessed bastard. And if anyone here is a disgrace to their magic and to the world they live in, it's you."

Having finished his tirade, Draco stood and stared at his father, his chest heaving up and down under his grey jumper. Lucius' lips curved bitterly into something that half-resembled a smile.

"Draco, you might try to be different from your family, but you never will be. You might try to bury yourself in weakness, parading as goodness by screwing the first thing that comes along," his eyes flickered over Ginny, "but you'll never kill that underlying evil. Trust me. Now," he said huskily as he pulled out his wand. "Kiss good bye to your girlfriend, boy, because it's someone's turn to die."

"I don't think so." Lucius turned fully to face Ginny as she spoke, openly shocked at the gall she had, the courage to contradict him.

"I beg your pardon," he practically whispered.

"I won't be dying here today, not at your hands, you disgusting human being, if you can still be called that."

And with that, she swung at him with all her strength. The flat of her hand came into total contact with the right side of his face, and his face instantly snapped to the side. Grabbing his wand, Ginny backed away from Lucius, who was radiating anger like it was heat. She flung it in Draco's direction and he scrabbled to catch it as his father swung round to stare at him.

"Give it to me." Draco shook his head and fought again not to take a step back. "Give me my wand, useless boy. Or you will pay a deep price for your disobedience."

"No. I don't care about your 'deep price'. Don't you get it yet? I couldn't give a damn if you send me to hell and back, father. I don't care what you say because you no longer have your hold over me." He allowed the left corner of his mouth to curl up slightly, a smug grimace-like smile that reminded Ginny, uneasily, of the old Draco.

"Don't be a fool."

"I am not a fool!" He was practically screaming. "I am no fool, not like you. Now, if you don't start saying something nice to me your days will end here, old man."

"I'm your father, Draco, I'm no old man. I'm not trying to ruin your life; I'm trying to make it better. I'm looking out for your best interests, because you're my son. No matter what foolish exploits you get up to it is my unfortunate duty to try and regulate you. Now stop this ridiculous behaviour and give me back my wand."

Draco stared at his father's outstretched hand and tried to think clearly for a few minutes in all the mayhem that was going through his mind. He raised the wand and pointed it straight at his father's heart. Lucius stood stock still all of a sudden and he almost seemed to stop breathing.

"Maybe I can prove myself to you this way." A number of curses were spinning through his brain, and he couldn't quite decide if he had the courage to use the one he knew would free him from Lucius' grip forever.

"Draco! Do something!" Ginny's scream broke through his thoughts and his head snapped up. He found himself staring straight into his father's burning grey eyes, so every like his own, and opened his mouth.

"Draco..." Lucius said warningly.

"Draco!" screamed Ginny.

And a weight hit him from behind, sending him flying to the floor. The wand flew from his hand and skidded across the floor, sliding to a halt at Lucius' feet.

"No!" Ginny made a leap for the wand and Lucius reached out and grabbed her hair as she sprung, catching her before she got to it and forcing her to stand upright, her head pulled way back so she could look straight up at his cold face.

"Well, you tried, Weasley, that's what matters." Lucius started to laugh as he reached down and picked up his wand. "Oh wait, what am I saying? That's not all that matters, because now you and my useless son are going to die slow and painful deaths." He continued to laugh as Draco struggled against his captor on the floor.

"Hello, young Malfoy," a voice breathed in his ear. He recognised it instantly as a Death Eater that his father had often had round for dinner when Draco had been growing up. The thought that this man had seen him and been in his house when he had been small and innocent was sickening, and he fought not to turn and spit in his face.

"Gabon, isn't it?" He struggled more, trying to free some part of himself. He opened his mouth to attempt to distract his captor in some way when he looked up to see that Ginny was still held by her hair. Fury coursed through every corner of his body and he continued to try and wrench himself free, no words could even hope to form in his mind, he just had to try and get to her.

"No, please. Please don't," Ginny sobbed up at Lucius. He slid his arm around her waist, the one holding his wand, and she slapped him away, sending his wand skidding across the floor again as she did.

"Stupid whore," Lucius spat. He slapped her face hard and she stumbled back against the wall. He approached her and pinned her up against it with his body. "Maybe I should teach you a lesson again, yes? Would you like that?" he hissed. Tears began to slide down her cheeks again, making small rivers down her face.

"Please," she whispered.

"Please?" He laughed at her. "Please? You'd like me to? I always knew you were a whore, girl, no matter what my stupid son thought. You'd have anyone going. Sometimes twice," he hissed into her ear.

Draco was still struggling, redoubling his efforts to try and loosen Gabon's grip. He had seen his father's wand go siding across the floor and that was his target, Lucius obviously thinking he wouldn't need it at this precise moment. Draco looked up and saw his father's hands sliding further down Ginny's body, her eyes closing as her body continued to shudder with sobs.

"Ginny!" he screamed. "Get off her, you sick bastard!" Lucius ignored him totally and he kept fighting Gabon's grip.

With one huge yank, he managed to get a part of his arm free, up to the elbow, and he drew it back and slammed it into Gabon's face, leaving him to loosen his grip on Draco's hands entirely. Scrabbling across the floor, he reached out and closed his hand over his father's wand. Turning, he screamed the only words that were in his head.

And Lucius dropped to the floor like a stone.

*~*~*~*~*

Harry was unsure when his entire world had begun to run in slow motion. All he could see in his line of vision was Voldemort. Around him, things seemed to be going mad. People were running and screaming and fighting.

But all he could see was the man that had killed his parents.

The man who had enslaved and killed people he loved.

The man who had destroyed the will of the only girl Harry had ever loved with his body and soul.

He had pushed Hermione out of the way as soon as the fighting had broken out, and now she was huddled on the floor, Ron standing in front of her to stop anyone going near her.

Harry slowly started towards his target, and saw that Voldemort was only concentrating on him too.

"So, Harry, we meet once again to see who is the stronger."

"Well, you've never had much luck with that, have you? All these years and a little Muggle-born can still manage to defy you."

"Yes, I admit, you've been lucky. And I have had so much misfortune when it comes to you. I never quite understood it. How one little Muggle piece of filth could cause me so much trouble when I was the most powerful wizard this world has ever seen. Very puzzling."

"Not really. It's quite simple. You aren't the most powerful wizard this world has ever seen. That wizard is Albus Dumbledore. And, by the way, I'm less Muggle than you are."

Voldemort's breath hissed out between his teeth and he suddenly flashed his wand across, pointing it at the floor. Before Harry had realised what was going on, Hermione was gripped in his thin, bony fingers.

Hermione's body shuddered as Voldemort's long fingers caressed their way down her cheek. Harry's throat constructed as he watched his girlfriend's body fight to stop the quivers of fear running through it. Forcing her eyes open, Hermione tried to plead with Harry not to take the bait Voldemort was offering. Her gaze darted to Ron on the floor, knocked over by Voldemort's curse, and saw a small movement in his legs. It gave her some strength. She had to save the two men in her life she needed most of all.

"Get your hands off me!" she shrieked, trying to slap his hands away. Voldemort didn't even flinch at her violent escape attempts, he continued to look straight at Harry.

"Are you going to save her, Harry?"

"No! Harry, don't listen to him, don't let him distract you!" Hermione screamed.

"Be quiet, disgusting Mudblood," he hissed. "I have no time for heroics. I'm trying to see how far we can stretch Dumbledore's golden boy. Do you think he'll give up his wand for you?"

"I don't care! I'd never want him to!" She began to fling herself about and Voldemort couldn't ignore her this time. She tried to push herself forward and out of his grip.

"Do you honestly think killing her will make the slightest difference?" Harry's voice cut through all the noise and sliced like a knife through Hermione's fear-clouded mind. She stared at him.

"I've lost my mother, my father, my godfather, and so many others," he continued. "Would it really make much difference if you kill another? Would I really care? My life is one big funeral and I'm the centrepiece on the coffin. The knowledge that I'm going to have to die doesn't even bother me, because I'm too used to it. Too tired of it. You might think parading Hermione up and down in front of me is going to help, but you're wrong."

"What are you blathering about?" Voldemort snapped. "Don't try and trick me into believing you feel nothing for this girl. I can feel your emotions in the air, I can see the disgusting stench of your love for her, it's practically dripping off you," he hissed. "It's what your parents reeked of as I killed them. The revolting stink that oozed around their faces, their hearts, as I wiped their lives away. That same thing that kept you from harm on that night."

"And that is something you'll never understand, never in a million years. You have power, and hatred, and dozens of minions, but you have no one. You don't feel love. You don't feel the comfort, or enjoyment, of simply being with someone. You may be the more powerful wizard here, and you may even win this fight. But I would rather lose to you and die right here, right now, than ever sacrifice my humanity, you sick, twisted, evil son of a bitch!"

And just as Harry finished, Ron came out of nowhere and flung himself into Hermione, knocking her from Voldemort's grip. They slid across the floor, knocked over a Death Eater and came to a halt fifteen feet away from where Voldemort and Harry stood.

"Crucio!" Harry's wand shot a jet of light at Voldemort just as he had lifted a bony hand to point it at Ron.

Harry watched in satisfaction as the skeletal body writhed in pain and screamed. However, Voldemort threw off the curse after only a few moments and Harry threw another and another until Voldemort was forced to throw up a bubble-shaped shielding charm.

"Not so strong now, are you old man?" Harry whispered to himself. But he paid dearly for his moment of distraction as Voldemort struck out, broke his shielding charm, and sent a curse flying at Harry.

Falling onto his back, Harry felt the shock reverberate up to his neck and when the pain kicked in his spine felt almost numb. It was a few seconds before Harry could focus on what Voldemort was doing, but through a blur of pain in his mind he saw his enemy's wand rise and point directly at Ron and Hermione.

"Protego!" His wand flashed out faster than he would have thought possible and he screamed the first thing that came into his fear-addled brain.

A shield jumped up in front of Ron and Voldemort's curse bounced off, flying across the room. He twisted quickly to stare at Harry, and began to advance on him. Harry scrambled to his feet as fast as his protesting spine would let him and faced his adversary straight on.

"No 'Avada Kedavra' then?"

"Give me a minute," Voldemort hissed.

As he stood head to head with a man that half the world feared more than anything, Harry began to wonder why. Look at him, he's only skin and bone, he pondered, he probably couldn't push me over.

So what if Voldemort could throw spells well? Harry was the best damn wizard in his class. He'd done things in his life that barely any young wizards had done. He'd been through things most people wouldn't even dream of facing in their entire lives. He would get through this too.

And he would win.

Casting a shielding charm around himself, he began to throw curses at Voldemort as fast as they came into his head. His shield, glowing a faint red colour, protected him from anything Voldemort tried to throw back, but he was aware it wouldn't last as long as he needed it to. The power he was throwing into his attacking curses was draining too much from him to keep the shield up for too much longer.

When it fell, he wasn't quite expecting it, and a curse from Voldemort shuddered its way through his already aching body. His body was strained, not used to the constant power that was coursing through it. Since the beginning of their battle, he had felt his body struggling to keep up with the speed of his magic, it reminded him again how fragile he was when compared to Voldemort's experience-strengthened body.

But when his eyes fell on Hermione, being guarded by Ron as she whimpered on the floor, his resolve hardened and he threw up another shielding charm, ready to throw fresh curses at his enemy.

He had to keep fighting for her. She had been the strongest person he had ever known, the most intelligent witch he'd ever seen handle a wand. And she had been reduced to almost nothing, to someone unaware of their beauty, their strength, and their potential. The thought of it sickened him to the deepest depths of his soul.

He felt no compassion for a single one of the people he was fighting. He could have killed them all in one second and not blinked. Maybe he would feel different if he wasn't burning with rage, maybe he would regret it one day if he led them all to their death, but he had no doubt at that single moment that they deserved death, and much worse.

Energy poured out of him and he sucked in breath, readying himself for whatever Voldemort tried to throw at him. A powerful blow hit him in the abdomen, even through his shield, and he almost buckled but managed to stay upright. His head was pounding now, but he continued nonetheless.

He felt another curse rip through his concentration haze, and his knees weakened for an instant, alerting him to the fact that he was slowly becoming more fragile to Voldemort's unceasing attacks.

Hermione.

He shot another curse, and Voldemort buckled slightly.

Ron.

A second wave of strength hurled itself through him and he pushed towards his enemy with his mind, his eyes closing as he almost cried out and felt every muscle in his body scream.

Sirius.

His eyes snapped open.

Dad.

He felt something build up behind his eyes.

Mum.

A surge of fury raged through him and he howled as he threw his hands forward.

"Crucio!"

Voldemort's spine bent backwards and he seemed to rise off the floor as the full force of Harry's curse hit him square in the chest.

"Hurt like I've hurt, you bastard," Harry hissed. His hands were shaking at the sheer force of his hatred and he looked surprised as Voldemort began to leave the floor, rising above the events of the room in a bright red ball of light.

Time seemed to slow for Harry as he concentrated on his curse, pulsing it through Voldemort's body until his brain felt like it was overheating. There was a noise above the pulsing of blood in his ears, and he suddenly realised it was screaming.

It took him a few more moments to realise it was his own voice, and his throat was burning from the force.

And suddenly, a weight lifted from his shoulders. Looking up, he realised it was because Voldemort had stopped fighting. His curses had stopped, and there was no more resistance to Harry's storm of magic that had surrounded the now-frail body.

There was an eerie silence, and Harry realised it was because he had stopped screaming.

He had one single moment of clarity, and he knew exactly what he was about to do. He remembered his conversation with Dumbledore at the end of fifth year, and shut his eyes.

"Avada Kedavra," he whispered.

There was an instant of still silence and then the room was full of light.

It centred on Voldemort for what seemed like an age to Harry, and then suddenly released him with a blinding flash, exploding into a million colours.

And from then on for Harry, there was only darkness.

*~*~*~*~*<>*~*~*~*~*

Well, there it is. Chapter 11 should be up and running as soon as possible, hopefully without such a whacking great cliffhanger at the end!!!