Twenty-Four Hours

Twenty-Four Hours

Chapter Fourteen

By Michelle Malfoy

"I'm not used to you being like this," Harry confessed to Michelle.

"Like what? Not evil?"

"No," he said with a laugh. "Seventeen. You were ten, you know. Or at least, I thought you were. You seemed to be. Does that make sense?"

"Yes," she said with a giggle.

Hermione and Ginny walked in a moment later. "Harry," Ginny said with a nod. "Michelle."

"Hey," Michelle greeted them.

"I loved him," Hermione sobbed. Only then did Harry and Michelle realize that she was crying. "I loved him soooooo much. But he had to go. Why did he have to die?"

"Ron?" Michelle asked stupidly.

"Yes," Hermione said, agitated. "I loved him!"

"He died honorably," Ginny assured her. "I loved him too, and so did Harry, if it comes to that. We have a battle to fight, Hermione, and sitting around sulking and wailing isn't going to win it for us."

"We do," Harry whispered.

"Do what?"

"We have a battle to fight. And we don't have Dumbledore, or McGonagall... she's working too hard as Headmistress now. Even Snape, he's dead."

"Varossa?" suggested Michelle.

"She'd make everything worse," Ginny scoffed.

"We need a leader," Michelle said, and everyone turned to Harry.

"Hey, don't look at me! I have no experience with fighting, at least, not that I can build a leadership on. I can't fight tons of Death Eaters, sneak into their castle..."

Everyone turned to Draco. "Me?" he squaked. "Why me?"

"You have experience with the way their minds work," Harry supplied.

"You know how to get into their lair," Hermione added.

"You do too," pointed out Draco. "You walk up to the front door, and knock." Michelle snickered, but Hermione looked stern. "But Potter - sorry, meant Harry - should be the leader. And I'll be, the, uh, Person-Who-Happens-To-Have-A- Key-To-The-Dark-Lord's-Castle-And-Dungeons- But-Since-Potter's-The-Leader-We'll-Just-Knock. 'Kay?"

"No," everyone chorused angrily.

"Fine, fine, keep your hair on," Draco muttered. "Michelle! That was rude!"

"T'was not," Michelle whined, lowering her middle finger. "Okay, maybe it was. But whatever. And don't call him the Dark Lord; he's You-Know-Who now. Or Voldemort." She winced as a searing pain ignited from her stomach into the tips of her fingers.

"Ouch!" Draco hastily rolled up her sleeve and noticed, that though the Mark had never been on her arm - it had been on Draco's - her usually creamy pale skin was rather red.

"Michelle?" asked Harry curiously. "What on earth is going on?" Michelle showed him her arm and knew that he would know the difference between the reddish smear on her arm and her usual cream-white skin.

"Draco?" asked Hermione. "Is yours burning too?"

"That's just it; it's not," Draco sighed. "Oh, jeez... Michelle, you'll have to Apparate to where he is."

"You can't apparate on Hogwarts grounds!" hissed Hermione.

Michelle ignored her. "But... I don't really support them, do I?"

"Of course not, Michelle," Draco replied, stroking her hair. "Don't say anything of the sort to them, of course. Play along like nothing's wrong."

"Don't let her go, are you mad?!" Harry exclaimed to Draco.

Everyone ignored him; since Harry was romantically involved with Michelle, it would not be fair to say that he was exactly rational when it came down to a life-or-death situation on her part.

"Please," Harry begged, "let me come along too. I'll never forgive myself if she - if she dies, and I wasn't there to help her."

"Are you mad?" Draco asked. "You can't possibly help her by revealing to the Dark Lord and his Death Eaters that you - love her, and that you're there! They'll kill you, or use you as bait for Michelle and me to join him."

"I don't care! You know I'm sensitive where Michelle is concerned. She can't... die. I love her, Malfoy, can't you see that? I want what's best for her, and that does not involve her death. In any way, shape, or form."

Draco seemed to be considering this. However, when someone spoke, it was not Draco. "Let him go," Hermione said softly. "If he loves her all that much, let him go. You know what he's like when someone he's close to dies. Sirius... Ron... even Cedric, and he wasn't close to him at all."

"I can't," Draco said. "I love her too, she's my sister, after all. I want what's best for her too. Just because you think you're in love with her doesn't mean you're the only one who cares about her," he hissed to Harry.

"Shut up, both of you!" Michelle screamed. "I'm seventeen years old and I can make my own decisions!"

Draco and Harry both swiveled around to stare at her. She was fuming. "Get your Invisibility Cloak," she said to Harry. Silently, he took it from Hermione. "Hold my hand, but the moment we get there, let go. And don't trod on anyone's feet. Be very, very careful." She turned to Draco. "You stay with them, okay? If your Mark burns... well... leave them here." At Hermione's and Ginny's protests, she said, "I'm only bringing Harry because he's in a very serious problem. If his anger proves to be unresolvable by most parcelny - except, apparantly, mine, then I need to be with him at all times."

Hermione sighed. "You're right. Go."

* * *

"Michelle," Lucius drawled. "Thank you for finally arriving." Michelle's eyes met his and their identical expressions of loathing could each have murdered the other if looks could kill.

"Come with me," he ordered. She followed him in silence, Harry trailing behind her. "Enter," he commanded, indicating a room. She did so warily and, to her horror, the ground beneath her split open. She fell, Harry clutching her arm, and then found herself in a cage. The cage then disappeared and Michelle was instead chained directly to the wall.

The dream, both Harry and Michelle thought in unison. Harry leaned over to touch her, but he felt a hand on his shoulder. Voldemort.

"Did you think," he whispered, "that after sixteen years of near-immortality, I would lack the ability to see through Invisibility Cloaks?"

Harry was desperately thinking of Ginny, who had, after all, rescued him from his last two encounters with Voldemort. "Michelle," Lucius said, "I am ashamed in you. What is it that I have always taught you?"

"To love is to be a slave to the one you love," she recited, "and to be loved is to be their master."

"And Harry Potter," Lucius added, "was probably the worst choice. Or rather," he said, a nasty grin spreading on his face, "the best."

Voldemort touched Lucius's Mark on his arm and whispered, "Draco Lucius Malfoy, Dylan Adam Burkhard."

Dylan appeared first, his dark hair plastered to his forehead with sweat. His turquoise eyes gleamed brightly as they scanned the room. "Master," he said, kneeling before Voldemort. "Mr. Malfoy." He nodded to Lucius, who nodded back.

"You have experienced an Initiation before, is that correct?" Voldemort asked Dylan. Dylan nodded. "Please fetch us Veritaserum and then assemble the chairs in the Meeting Room correctly. Then fetch... ah, about forty muggles or mudbloods."

"Yes, Master," Dylan said, kneeling once more and kissing the hem of Voldemor'ts robes.

As he walked out, he spotted Michelle. "My Lord, if I may speak?" he asked, spinning around.

"You may," Voldemort said in a bored tone.

"Who is to be Initiated?"

Voldemort and Lucius glanced at each other. That was all the information Dylan needed, in his opinion. "Michelle," Lucius finally answered.

"I am not!" Michelle shrieked. The voice sounded more like a six-year-old's and not a seventeen-year-old's.

"Oh, but you are," Lucius said softly. "Unless you want us to kill Potter."

Just then, Draco Apparated into the room. "Father, my Lord," he said, addressing the two men before him. He glanced at Dylan, who was now a foot from the doorway, and called him back by use of parcelny. Dylan, he thought fiercely, don't ask me how I'm doing this, but it's Draco, and I need you to do something to that Veritaserum! If you don't, Michelle will be officially Initiated, and she loves Potter. I can't let either of them die.

Dylan froze. He turned around slowly, gazing at Draco. Draco gave the younger boy the smallest of nods and Dylan nodded back. Then his eyes flicked to Harry, chained next to Michelle. Oh, god, Draco thought, to Michelle this time. Didn't I warn you? Didn't I? You shouldn't have brought him, Michelle.

"My Lord?" Draco said to Voldemort.

"Ah, Draco," Voldemort greeted him. "Your father requested a... meeting with you." He walked out, allowing his footsteps to echo loudly throughout the corridor.

"Draco!" His father's voice rang out through the room. Draco looked up and was surprised to find himself chained to a wall, his hair dirt-streaked and tearstains on his clothes.

"Yes, Father?" he asked lazily.

"Excuse me? You are not to use that tone of voice with me," Lucius ordered. "Try it again."

"Yes, Father?" Draco asked, this time with a hint of amusement in his voice.

"You find this funny?" Lucius asked disbelievingly. "And I suppose you'll find this funny too... Crucio!" And Draco felt the pain of the Cruciatus Curse and the utmost hatred for his father welled up inside... he wanted nothing more than to murder his father... slowly, to cause more pain. But, of course, he could not do that while chained to a wall.

"Yes, actually," Draco admitted. "I think I do."

"Stop being defiant," Lucius commanded. "Or I shall have to inflict punishment upon... her." He pointed his wand at Michelle, chained to the wall on the other side of the room.

"Yes, Father," Draco agreed quickly. His voice carried no trace of laziness, amusement, or any other emotion that Draco showed frequently.

"Now," Lucius said, pleased to have Draco under his control. "Turn your wand on Potter. Murder him. NOW." Draco stared at his father, but he wasn't really seeing him, not really. He was looking through Lucius rather than actually seeing him. His eyes were fixed on Michelle, who would face punishment if he did not obey. Michelle shook her head frantically, her mouth forming the words 'Don't do it!'

"What are you doing?" Lucius demanded. "I believe I asked you to perform Avada Kedavra on Potter. Do so. Now."

Draco whimpered softly as his father shoved his wand into his hand. "It's your choice," Lucius stated quietly. "You may either murder Potter or let me murder your beloved sister."

"Does she mean that little to you?" Draco asked, horrified.

"I have an heir right here," Lucius pointed out, placing a hand on Draco's shoulder. "There will be no difference in anything regardless of whether she lives or dies."

"A father is supposed to love his children!" Draco was screaming now, begging his father to understand, to pity, to see his mistake. But that was not the kind of person Lucius was.

"Crucio!" Lucius hissed for the second time that day. But this time, the wand was directed, not at Draco, but at Michelle.

"Please, Father, no!" Draco screamed, writhing to escape his bonds as he heard Michelle's screams piercing the atmosphere. "Father, please!"

Lucius ignored his son's desperate pleas, and continued casting the Cruciatus Curse on his daughter. Draco began to scream louder than he thought possible; his shouts were echoing through the castle and he heard glass shatter.

"Kill him," Lucius murmured in Draco's ear. "Kill him or I will kill her."

And Draco refused.

"Avada Kedavra," Lucius murmured.

"Wait!" Harry yelled. The green light on the end of Lucius's wand deflected as Harry yelled. "No, don't kill her, please! Malfoy - kill me - you can't just let her die!"

"Don't be a prat, Harry!" Michelle yelled. "Draco, don't kill Harry. Kill me!"

Draco looked from Harry to Michelle and suddenly knew what he had to do. "Father," Draco said softly, "I've made my descision."

"Oh?" Lucius asked in surprise.

"Yes." Draco looked his father straight in the eye. "I've sort of wanted to do this for a long time," he said, stalling. "And it's odd; I've never been able to look you in the eye before. I was always too short to see you on eye level. Except now, you know, I can see the coldness in your eyes. I've always been able to feel it, to know it was there. Everyone knows you're bitter, and they sort of imagine the chill of your glares. But," Draco said, "enough with the stalling. You've always told me that a Malfoy never rambles. So here it is, Father." He took out his wand and, directing it straight at Lucius's heart, shouted, "AVADA KEDAVRA!"

Lucius fell backwards and his body fell to the floor with a loud BANG. "There was a spell cast on him when he was younger," Draco said softly, "that would allow almost all of his long-term magic to be reversed when he died. In other words," Draco began to explain, but he never got to finish it, for Ron and Snape suddenly arrived in the room.

"Ron?" Harry breathed.

"Shut up," Snape said. "Move, Weasley. I know this castle, and the Dark Lord will be able to detect that his servant is dead. We've been watching this whole scene from up above."

"Who would've thought?" Ron muttered.

Snape unbound Harry quickly and then Michelle. He looked at the dead body of Lucius Malfoy one last time before leaving.

* * *

Hermione and Ginny, who had known the password enabling them to Apparate, were now walking through the corridors of what had once been known as Riddle Castle. "Dylan," Ginny breathed as she stumbled and tripped over Dylan's foot. "You can get us out!"

"No, I can't," Dylan said. "Just like Malfoy can't, and Michelle can't. I was sent to fetch her Veritaserum. You'd better hurry." He showed no trace of being surprised of their arrival.

"Well, well, well." Voldemort stood before them, flanked with his Death Eaters. Michelle remembered her line of the will - Michelle, you will defeat all the Death Eaters (excluding your father) due to an impromptu decision.

As Voldemort approached the five children like a wolf admiring its prey, Harry instinctively shot out his arm the way he might to catch the snitch and pulled Michelle towards him. "Well," Draco said, "this seems to be developing into a distinctly boring situation."

"Silence, you traitor," a voice came from behind a hood.

"Well said, Mr. Smith," Voldemort praised his Death Eater. "Shall I award you the honor of torturing him?"

"The descision is, as always, yours, My Lord," the boy said faithfully.

"Well then. I think not, that we shall have this 'final battle' here and now. And then, Zacharias, then you may torture them."

"We aren't going to lose!" Michelle shrieked, and plunged her hand into her pocket.

"NO!" Hermione yelled. "It's a trap, don't you see? They have this Reversal Spell guarding them - like a force field, only it repels the spell back to the caster. Like what happened when you were one, Harry."

"Hermione," Ginny murmured, "that was your line of the will. And... Draco did his already. He defeated his father."

"Finite Incantatum," Hermione muttered, pointing her wand at the Reversal Spell. A faint silvery blue glow disappeared from the air in front of them, and when Hermione stuck her hand out, she no longer felt as though a wall of glass stood before her.

"Three - two - one!" Harry yelled, and the children launched into battle while Snape attempted to hide himself from the Dark Lord.

Michelle was fighting off three Death Eaters at once before she knew it. Harry was fighting Voldemort and the best thing to be said was that he was not losing horribly. Hermione was battling Mulciber and Dolohov while trying to protect Ron. Ron was meanwhile battling fiercely with Peter Pettigrew. Ginny was hitting countless Death Eaters with multiple hexes.

Suddenly Michelle realized something. She could never defeat the Death Eaters by use of magic. She was mainly studying on a first-year level, although she had taken some classes on a seventh-year one. So she raced away from the Death Eaters, shrieking "Come and get me!"

They raced after her, trying to stun her. But Michelle jumped onto the windowledge and began grabbing heavy items and Banishing them towards the Death Eaters. Suddenly, she noticed a muggle item sticking out of Hermione's pocket. A flashlight. Death Eaters were not used to muggle-created light.

Michelle, of course, knew virtually nothing about muggle artifacts either. However, she had enough common sense to scream, "NOX!" and then, after about twenty minutes of pitch-blackness in which many Death Eaters crashed into each other, she flipped the on button of the flashlight and began shining it directly in the eyes of random Death Eaters.

They collapsed and fell to the ground, and Draco and Ginny were running around, "Avada Kedavra"-ing the blinded Voldemort supporters. Harry and Voldemort were still heavily engaged in battle. "Harry," Ginny yelled, "there's one over there we can't get!"

Voldemort knew that it was likely that Harry would dash over and do whatever his little friends asked him to do. So he let his guard down. That, of course, was a mistake.

"Imperio!" Little Ginny knew the Unforgivable Curses from her time with Tom. She knew every single rule and necessity about them, so Voldemort knew that she would not screw up. After all, he had been the one to teach them to her.

Give up, she begged to him in his mind. She repeated the phrase first slowly, then quicker, for she did not want that 'other voice' a.k.a. his conscience (if Voldemort even had one) to open up in the back of his brain.

"I GIVE UP!" Voldemort yelled, dropping to his knees before Harry.

Harry surveyed him coldly, then kicked him onto the floor, Harry's foot resting on Voldemort's chest.

"Do it, Harry," Ginny said. "It was in Dumbledore's will... he'd have wanted you to."

"We're all depending on you, Harry."

Neither of the girls' voices - first Ginny, then Hermione - convinced him that it was the right thing to do. But one thing did.

Michelle approached Harry and wrapped her arms around his neck. She closed her eyes and watched him follow suit. Then they kissed - slowly, at first, and Michelle kissing solely to irritate the spectators (Voldemort in particular), but then faster, and more passionately. Finally, they broke apart and Harry was the first to break the silence.

He directed his phoenix feather wand at his parents' murderer and whispered, "Avada Kedavra."