Twins of Terror

"So, what's Hogwarts like?" Eveyln asked the older girl.

"Oh, incredible," Hermione replied, tossing her hair. "But full of secrets." She lowered her voice. "We started a club. Dumbledore's Army, it's called. Anyone trustworthy on the Light side can join."

"Light side?" Evelyn asked, her brow furrowing. "So there must be a Dark side as well."

"Oh, there is," Harry assured her darkly. "Voldemort- stop flinching, Ron- is the Dark Lord, as they call him. His minions are called Death Eaters. They're all- including Voldemort- from Slytherin House. They have what we call the Dark Mark on tehir arms. If Voldemort touches one Death Eater's Mark, all of the others' burn and they know they have to join him."

"You know him personally?"

"He killed my parents," Harry half-whispered.

"I'm sorry," both twins murmured. "We'll join, don't worry. What sort of things do we learn in the club?"

"You'll be behind everyone," Ron commented, ignoring Dylan's question. "Hermione'll have to give yeou private lessons, eh, Herm?" Hermione flushed and slapped her boyfriend's hand.

"He thinks just because we're going out, compliments will actually get him somewhere," she explained mock-scornfully.

"You seem to be quite a strong friendship trio," Dylan obseved. "Can I join? If I'm in Gryffindor, that is." Ron shrugged, surprised with Dylan's abrubtness. Hermione shrugged as well, but Harry closed his eyes and sighed wistfully.

"And me!" Evelyn insisted. Hermione smiled and nodded much more enthusiastically, glad to have a girl in the Trio- er, quintet. Ron immaturely stuck out his tongue to Evelyn's scowl.

"Are you muggle-born?" Dylan asked Ron, searching for good conversation.

"Only me," Hermione replied cheerfully. "Harry's a half-blood, famous as can be, and Ron's a pureblood."
"And I," came a drawl from the doorway, "am a very respected pureblood. Unlike Weasley."

"Who's that?" Evelyn whispered, eyeing the silver blonde-haired, gray-eyed boy.

"Draco Malfoy," Hermione hissed back. "Mr. I'm-super-rich-bow-down-to-me. Mr. I'm-the-son-of-Voldemort's-right-hand-man. Mr. I'm-probably-going-to-be-the-next-Dark-Lord. Mr. I'm-so-hot-and-I'm-a-sex-god."

"So true," Draco sneered. "But I'm also Mr. I've-just-been-appointed-to-capture-Harry-Potter-and-nothing-will-stop-me." Hermione's eyes widened and she immediately moved to block Harry from view. Draco only laughed. "Stupefy!" he yelled, waving his wand at the girl. She and Harry instantly fell backwards in a dead faint.

Ron stepped forward next. "Stupefy!" he shouted at Draco, but all that happened was a tremor of intense hate in the air.

"Crucio!" Draco yelled. Ron fell to the ground, writhing and shrieking in pain. Again Draco laughed, not only amused but enjoying what he was seeing, as if it was a form of entertainment.

Then his gaze fell upon the children. "Ah..." he hissed. Deadly quiet followed his words. The twins were afraid to move, scared that Draco would shoot another curse at them. Finally Ron got up, and he looked determined to save his friends before something awful happened.

"Hartetto!" Draco suddenly whispered, and each of the as-of-yet conscious people were suddenly tied very tightly to a strong boulder. "Visionela!" he cried, and it was as if each of the three were blind, for everything went black. "Silencio!"

Now Evelyn was really afraid. Obviously Draco didn't mind hurting people- a lot- to get his way. If he was truly determined to bring them all to Voldemort, she had no doubt that he would do it. "W-w-what are you doing with us?" she stuttered, petrified.

"Oh, you'll see," Draco told her, grinning evilly. "But you'll wish you hadn't."

* * * * *

A glimmer of hope formed in Evelyn's mind as she heard Hermione stir, then sit up. "Hartetto!" Draco yelled, and she and Harry were bound to a boulder back-to-back. A moment passed and an odd hissing sound met their ears. Another moment, and the six of them were rushing through space in a whirl of color and sound.

And then it stopped.

Blinking, Evelyn found that although she and her friends were in a dungeon cell, she could see and speak again. Thinking back, she realized that although Draco had cast the Silencing curse on her, she had still been able to speak. That was odd, but it did not qualify as 'urgent,' and she had silently decided only to think about urgent things.

Dylan, however, was much more oblivious to what was going on. Draco was pacing up and down from outside the cell, looking amused at the other five. He was stroking his impossibly smooth blonde hair, which only frustrated Evelyn. Then the door to the dungeon opened, and the scariest person known to Earth walked in. It was only due to the fact that Evelyn was so shocked that she didn't scream. That shock wore off quickly, however, and she shrieked so loudly that Draco casted the Silencing spell again.

"No, no, no, Draco," the man insisted. He whispered the countercurse. "Scream all you like, girl. The only people who will hear you are my followers, and I highly doubt they'll come to your rescue."

Evelyn felt a rush of hatred run through her veins. "Evelyn, is it not, Draco?" Draco nodded.

"Yes, sir. And her brother Dylan." He pointed to the eleven-year-old boy looking disgusted.

"But of course. The Twins of Terror. Take their wands." Draco did so, reaching into each of their pockets in turn and snatching up the long, thin, new wands.

"We can't even do magic!" Dylan shouted indignantly. "What, you thought we'd do some wacky magic like he did to Ron?"

The man ignored him. "By the way, children, I have not yet introduced you to my Master," Draco commented. "This is Lord Voldemort, the Dark Lord. You shall call him Master."

"No I won't!" Evelyn cried, shocked.

"You most certainly will," Draco told her. "Or face the consequences."

"And what would that be?" Hermione asked, rolling her eyes.

"Death," Draco said simply, "would not be enough for me, nor for my Master. We have decided upon a suitable punishment and will not resort to killing until after you have fulfilled all possible uses."

Dylan looked around, searching for a way out of this horrible nightmare. "Do we have a choice?"

Draco looked at him like he had three heads. Then he glanced at the Dark Lord and seemed to develop an idea. "Yes," he told the boy slowly. "You can join us, after taking the Tests." Dylan bit his lip, thinking. "Well?"

What felt like a lifetime passed after Draco's statement. A glare that could slice a hair and burn through adamintine shot through Draco's silver-gray eyes. Finally, Dylan swallowed uncertainly. "All right, Master," Dylan replied. A surge of power ran through his veins as Draco snapped his fingers and Dylan's bindings released Dylan and wrapped themselves tighter around Ron and Evelyn. Draco held out a hand to help up his newest colleague, and Dylan took it.

"Come," the Dark Lord instructed, leading his young followers out of the dungeon, locking the door behind him.

* * * * *

It was a warm room, far more comfortable than the dungeons. There were twenty-two large green armchairs all facing one throne-like chair, two chairs next to it on the left and one chair next to it on the right. However, upon entering the room, Draco conjured up another and positioned it next to the throne on the right. Voldemort touched something on a statue's arm and suddenly, one-by-one, masked people began to appear and sit in seemingly random armchairs.

A man that could only be Draco's father appeared, and sat next to his son on the left of their master. A woman sat next to Dylan up in front, and the rest of the Death Eaters filed into the room until every seat was taken. "Good afternoon, everyone." Draco's father's cold voice rang out across the room. "I am glad you have attended this meeting."
"You are about to witness the Testing of one new Death Eater- a Mudblood named Dylan Burkhard. Although it is against our beliefs to accept a Mudblood into our society, we have made an exception for Dylan and will permit him to join. He has been socializing with Harry Potter." All of the Death Eaters murmured to one another, clearly doubting Dylan's loyalty. "However, we will see just how loyal he is when faced with The Most Difficult of Challenges."

"The Most Difficult of Challenges," Draco echoed softly. "As I am sure you know, that is our name for Betrayal, Disloyalty, and Backstabbing." Dylan's mind raced. Surely they didn't expect him to betray his friends! "Now, we will give him the Testing." He levitated Dylan's chair so that it was in front of all the others', facing Voldemort.

The said Dark wizard stood up and stared at Dylan, red eyes boring into Dylan's own blue ones. Without waving a wand, he hissed something inaudiable and Dylan's whole body began to glow with a silvery green light. "As I suspected," the Dark Lord announced. "This boy is destined for Slytherin." A murmur rushed around the room. A Mudblood, destined for Slytherin? Impossible!

"Veritas!" the Dark Lord whispered, then turned his gaze towards the boy. "Do you get flashes, surges, if you will, of power? Of desire for control, the ability to do what you like?"

"Yes," Dylan replied robotically, as if he could not control his words.

"I see. Lucius?" Draco's father stepped forward, ready for his question.

"Are you prepared to be loyal to the Dark Lord alone, to follow his commands as though set in stone?" he asked smoothly.

Not understanding that his words would control him, bind him to his own statement, Dylan confirmed.

Next Draco walked up. "Dylan," the boy spat, "will you socialize with Harry Potter against my master's will?"

"No," Dylan replied, oblivious to the world around him.

"Finite incantatum," Draco whispered, and Dylan felt the real world rush into his head, realization at what he had just done flowing into his mind.

"Morsmordsdre!" the Dark Lord hissed, staring at Dylan's unmarked forearm. Dylan shut his eyes; the pain was terrible, blinding in fact, and he just wanted to stand up. He supposed this was another way to do what Draco had done to Ron, but he would not cry out. It took him a moment to realize that the piercing shrieks he heard were actually coming from him.

Finally, the pain ended. Dylan glanced at his arm, wondering what Voldemort had done to it. With a jolt of horror, he realized that it was what Harry, Ron, and Hermione had told him about- the Dark Mark. Dylan couldn't keep himself from flinching, but knew that he had to be impassive. Show no emotion, he thought. He wasn't sure whether or not he was staying as a Death Eater or being a spy- no thoughts seemed to come to him, he just went with the flow.

"Draco, please show the boy to his room," Mr. Malfoy snapped. Draco, scowling, led Dylan up three flights of stairs into a very cold, black room.

"Don't bother escaping," Draco told the boy. "We've locked it in eight different ways, and the charms surrounding this castle are very powerful. We don't trust you, of course, because we know none of Potter's goody-goody friends would ever join the Death Eaters."

He paused for a moment to let this sink in. "Your first task will indeed be the Most Difficult of Challenges. You will be instructed to assure them that you are only spying on us. After a while, you will give them false information on what's going on, and they will be convinced that it is the truth. Finally, you will be instructed to kill your sister. Once you've done that, little boy, you will be accepted into our little ring."

Draco smirked at the stunned-looking child. "W-w-why do I have to kill her?" Dylan asked, horror-struck.

"Pure amusement, I suppose," Draco replied cheerfully. "She is a Mudblood, after all," he pointed out.

"So am I!" exclaimed Dylan anxiously. "Kill me, and put her to whatever use you want to put her to!"

"Dylan, you volunteered for this."

"So?"

"Live with it, all right? Believe me, being a Death Eater has its perks. Complete power... you'd never imagine what we're able to do. Not just killing and torturing, manipulating and punishing too."

"The difference is..." Dylan prodded the other boy.

"Look, I understand how you feel. I know how it feels at first, nerve-wreaking and confusing and just plain scary. It's tough dealing with my father and my Master, believe me. But our goal is- and always has been- to defeat Harry Potter."

"Harry?" Dylan asked, astounded. "That teenager I met in the broom store? What does he have to do with anything?"

"Potter? Oh, he has to do with everything." And so Draco launched into a highly fabricated tale about Harry Potter and his past.

"... and there was that time his girlfriend slapped me. I was bleeding for months! And know why she did it? 'Cause I asked her to please pass the salt!" Dylan sucked in his breath, shocked that Hermione would overreact so.

"Wow. And they looked totally innocent." Draco humphed indignantly.

"See, Death Eaters can have fun too! And when you start school, I'll sort of 'adopt' you as a kind of apprentice. I'll watch you, show you around, and make sure you have plenty of friends. Just make sure you watch your back."

* * * * *

"How could he do that?" Evelyn demanded for the sixtieth time, once again struggling with her chains. "He's not like that, you know!"

"I only knew him for about ten minutes. I never would have guessed that he'd be a Death Eater," Ron muttered hollowly.

"He's not! It's some enchantment. Dylan would never do that!" she exclaimed angrily.

"Maybe not under normal circumstances," Harry told her. "But there's a theory. Whenever a Death Eater wants a follower and touches his arm, flashes of power and glory run through his head until he gives in. Maybe that's what Dylan saw."

"Or maybe," suggested Hermione, "he was so madly in love with Draco that he didn't realize what he was saying."

Harry and Ron gaped at her, although their views of Hermione were limited due to the chains. "Only kidding," she assured them, giggling. Suddenly they heard a scraping sound coming from the doorway.

"What's that?" Hermione demanded. Nobody answered.

"Shut up for a second," a voice hissed. Hermione looked stunned, as if nobody had ever told her to shut up.

"Who the fuck's there?" Harry growled, clearly fed up with the scraping and secrecy. He did not usually swear, but he felt that the circumstances called for it.

Just then the door swung open and a Death Eater marched in, holding what appeared to be a little girl. She was screaming, and the Death Eater was bellowing. "NOBODY DEFIES THE DEATH EATERS. YOU WILL LEARN NEVER TO DO THIS AGAIN... but it's quite unlikely that you'll have the oppurtunity." He hurled her into the cell, snapped his fingers to ensure that she was chained, and slammed the door.

The girl screwed up her face as if trying to remember something, and then, suddenly, her hair changed to pink and she appeared to be a young adult rather than a four-year-old. "Tonks!" Harry cried, pleased to see his friend. "How'd you get here?" Tonks looked at her feet but did not hesitate to tell him.

"I heard you were missing, and the most likely place you could be would be... here. Voldemort's castle- although only Dumbledore and the Order know this- was inherited from his father. It used to be called Riddle Castle, but now it doesn't have a name. After he came of age, he claimed it his own and with time put every Dark spell to ensure his privacy."

"So how'd you get caught?"

"I disguised myself as a little girl thinking- foolishly- that they wouldn't imprison a toddler. When they heard Harry swearing, they pulled off the Invisibility Cloak I borrowed from Moody, and saw... me." Hermione pursed her lips, but her face was filled with hatred. "Hermione, it's okay. We can plan together now." Tonks then realized something.

"Hey, do you think if I transform, I might break through these chains?" Tonks asked. Ron looked up hopefully.

"Won't work. Unbreakable, even by magic, unless it's the person who originally enchanted them," Harry sighed. Ron returned to looking at his feet.

"Hey, who're you?" Tonks asked Evelyn. Harry introduced her and explained about what Dylan was doing. "So that means you won't be able to start school, then?" Tonks asked sympathetically. "Don't worry. Hogwarts isn't all it's cracked up to be. And we'll get out of here in time for you to start there. No problem, right, Harry?"
Harry bit his lip. He was not one to give someone false hope, but knew that Evelyn might prove to be a powerful weapon if she only had hope to base her fighting on. "Sure. No problem," he said. "Tonks... do you have your wand?" The said girl reached into her pocket and presented her wand. "What's in it?"

"Raven tail feather- very rare. Thirteen inches, holly. Why?"

"Evelyn, what's in yours?"

"Unicorn tail feather, eleven inches, willow."

"Hermione?"

"Raven tail feather, eight inches, oak. But Draco took it."

Harry gasped. "Try Tonks's wand."

Hermione obeyed and pointed the wand at Evelyn. "Wingardium Leviosa!" Evelyn did not move. She pulled off her shoe and tried again, this time pointing the wand at her sneaker. "Wingardium Leviosa!" This time, her shoe went floating high, high into the air. "Finite Incantatum." The shoe fell down and landed gracefully in her hand.

Harry smiled. "Let's give Evelyn some lessons in magic, shall we?"

* * * * *

"No, no, no. It's Croo-cee-oh. Try it again."

"Crucio!" The boy called Gregory Goyle writhed with pain and shrieked in anguish.

"Look away when you want to stop it, okay?"

Dylan looked away, satisfied with the boy's pain.

Very good, Dylan," Draco told his 'apprentice.' Dylan smiled, pleased with the compliment.

"Now onto the second Unforgivable. This one's the most fun, you can do anything with it."

"Like what?" Dylan asked, enthralled.

"Well, you can make someone do anything you want. Here's the incantatium, listen carefully. Im-peer-ee-yo. Say that."

"Imperio! Like that?"

"Yes. Just like that. Now remember that like in all Dark Magic, you have to keep eye contact and feel pure hatred, the desire to cause pain and enjoy it. And with this one, you have to think very hard on what you want the person to do. Let me tell you, it helps wizard bank robbers when they steal from muggle banks. Try it on Vince." Vincent Crabbe approached the two and stood emotionlessly in front of them.

"Imperio!" Dylan hissed in the 'Evil Overlord' voice Draco had taught him. He thought very hard on what he wanted the thug to do: Sing London Bridge is Falling Down and snog Draco. He repeated that thought over and over again until Vincent launched into the song, finished it, and jumped on top of Draco, kissing noisily. Dylan made sure to keep eye contact with him, because he did not want it to end so soon.

Finally he looked away and Draco stood up, brushing invisible dust off his robes. His face was filled with mock anger and hatred, but Dylan saw through it and knew that his friend was proud. "Very good. I didn't get it on my first try, believe me. Now here's my dad's favorite curse- guess what it does."

"Kills," Dylan mock-drawled.

"Right in one!" Draco told him mock-cheerfully. "This incantatum is a little bit more difficult, though. Av-ah-dah Ki-dav-era. Try that."

"Avada Kedavra," Dylan enunciated.

"Good. Now try it on this spider." Draco pulled a small spider out of a jar and placed it on the table.

"Avada Kedavra!" Dylan hissed. Nothing happened. "Avada Kedavra!" he hissed again. Nothing happened. "Avada Kedavra!" The spider seemed to die on the spot, shocking Dylan that he had mastered the curse.

"I can't believe you're only eleven," Draco commented. "You've mastered the three Unforgiveables in... ten minutes, I believe." Dylan smirked at him.

"And how long did it take you, Mr. Malfoy?" he asked, looking sarcastically interested. Draco mock-scowled at the boy, pretending to be upset, but seemed to snap out of it.

"Let's go taunt the prisoners," he suggested, pulling a golden key out of his pocket. Dylan smiled evilly and rubbed his hands together in an expression of mock greed. "Oh, move it already!" Draco groaned, and pulled his comrade out of the room.

* * * * *

"Malfoy," Harry spat. The pale blond boy only gazed at him, like a vulture spotting its prey.

"Potter," Draco finally hissed. "Welcome... home. I daresay you'll be here for a while." He knew he was being melodramatic, but he didn't care, especially when the other boy began to breathe unhealthily heavily, clenching his fists in anger. "I'm sure you'll find it interesting to learn that this is the very place we captured Arthur Weasley in before we introduced him to our Nagini," he informed Harry.

A surge of hatred spread through Harry's body. Hatred of Death Eaters, Voldemort, and evil in general. Dylan walked up to the cage and saw his sister's wide brown eyes. For a moment he felt sorry for her, but he remembered his new friend and snapped out of it. "Evelyn," he hissed in that new voice he had been taught. "Are you aware of the company you are sitting in?"

The girl cocked her head in wonder, seemed to realize something, and then raised her chin defiantly. "Yes," she told her brother simply.

"And yet you do it anyway?" Draco asked her, raising his trademark eyebrow. "God, Dylan, I'm glad she's not my sister."

Dylan smirked at her and felt a compelling urge to stick out his tongue. He mastered the impulse, however, and launched into more conversation. "Hermione Granger." He filled the two words with utter loathing although he only knew the girl through friendship, and not even much of that. Draco flashed him a smile, and this egged Dylan on. "Mudblood, aren't you? Told me that yourself. Bet you wish now that you hadn't, eh?"

"We have horrible torture designed especially for you, too" Draco commented to Ron. "And think of what your dear father would say when we subject you to the Imperius Curse and force you to betray him. Tsk, tsk, tsk."

"You wouldn't," Ron tried to scoff, but it came out sounding just as worried as he felt.

"Oh, yes I would," Draco assured him nastily. "And I will, too, if you don't do exactly what I say, exactly how I say it."

Hermione caught on first. "I know what you're after, Malfoy," she snapped. "You can torture me all you want, but I won't tell you what you want me to."

"No, no, no," Draco replied, smiling evilly. "No, it's Potter I'm after. We have a long list of questions to ask him under the influence of Veritaserum, don't we, Dylan?" The younger boy bit his lip but nodded, determined to keep his cool act of confidence on.

"Forget it, Malfoy," Harry told him quickly. "Go ahead and kill me, if you want. I won't tell you that. I won't!"

"Oh won't you?" Draco asked innocently. "I'm not sure you understand your options here, Potter. I bet by the time we're halfway done you'll wish death was an option, but unfortunately it isn't."

Harry spat. "No, no. Your spitting days are over, Potter. Now is the time to make a hero's- excuse me, I meant moron's- choice. You can either suffer Veritaserum and every question we throw your way, or-" he paused for dramatics- "it is up to my Father and Master to decide your fate."

Harry coughed, but it sounded suspiciously like "fathead." Draco seemed to catch that, because he lost his temper. He plunged into his pocket for his wand and brandished it in the air. "Crucio!" he shouted, pointing the wand directly at Harry's chest. He kept eye contact with the writhing, shrieking boy as Harry broke into sobs.

"Stop it!" Evelyn yelled, struggling with her chains. "Stop it now!"

"Dylan?" Draco called to his partner without breaking eye contact with Harry. "Teach her a lesson, will you?"

Dylan approached his sister cautiously. "Sorry," he muttered, but he pulled out his new wand.

"No!" Evelyn shrieked. "No, don't! Please! Dylan! Please, Dylan!" Dylan looked at her, examining her from head to toe. "Stop! This is wrong! You're totally abusing your magic and--it isn't right! What would Mom and Dad say? This is absolutely deranged and, deep inside of you, underneath this 'I don't care, I'm a bad boy' disguise, you care about hurting people! You always have! Now stop it right now!"

For a moment Dylan's expression softened, but he glanced at Draco. Draco was still torturing Harry, and he caught the unsure expression on Dylan's face. "She's trying to get to you, Dyl. Don't fall for it; she'll turn around and stab you in the back soon enough."

Gulping, Dylan took out his wand. "Cru---" he began, but a voice from the corner came in.

"Am I interrupting something?" the cold voice of Lucius Malfoy asked from the doorway, scanning his two followers and their victims. "I see you have learned our three most fundamential curses, Mr. Burkhard. Very well done, very well done indeed. And now... on to our Plan." He turned his ice-cold stare onto Harry. "Mr. Potter. Once again, you have fallen into our trap. Congradulations."

Harry, for the third time that day, spat. "Wow," Draco drawled. "Glad to see you're excersizing your saliva, Potter."

"Be quiet, Draco," Lucius snapped. "Now. I suppose you are aware of your choices." He pulled a small glass vile out of his robes and waved it in the air. "This," he informed the boy, "is a particularly strong version of Veritaserum." Harry stared at it and, to his horror, recognized it from his fourth year of school when Dumbledore gave some to Moody- a.k.a. Barty Crouch.

Tonks, now invisible, gasped. As an Auror, she clearly recognized it also. "Now, Harry," Lucius drawled. "It's either the Potion... or the Mudblood." As Harry tried to decipher the man's words, Tonks walked over to Harry and put her arm on his shoulder. She whispered something in his ear, and Harry nodded very slightly.

"Veritaserum," Harry muttered. He sat very still as Lucius handed Dylan the potion to give to Harry.

"Open wide, Potter," Dylan sneered. "Here comes the train..."

The potion tasted horrible; the smell and taste of blood filled Harry's lungs along with the taste of garlic and other awful things. Along with that came a terrible feeling in the pit of Harry's stomach, as if his whole mind was wiped clear of everything.

"Potter," came a voice in Harry's mind. "Can you hear me?" It was the cold, slightly drawling voice of Lucius Malfoy.

Harry nodded, bound to the truth. "Good. Now tell me what I want to know. Tell me what I need to know."

"No," Harry told him simply. "Veritaserum makes me tell the truth, and I'm saying that I don't want to tell you a thing, thanks."

"Let me rephrase," came that horrible voice again. "Tell me or the Mudblood gets it." And Harry saw, out of the corner of his eye, Lucius approach Hermione with his wand.

"No!" Harry shouted, and Lucius stepped backwards. "I'll tell you." And he did. He told everything he knew, from his Occlumency lessons to the D.A.'s meeting place to the Order and everything he knew about it. He told Lucius about Tonks, how she was a Metamorphomagus. He spoke for hours, but his voice was as neutral as if he had been simply talking to Hermione on a nice spring day in the Great Hall about something as unimportant as Hogsmeade.

"Stop." Harry stopped talking. "Where is the Order of the Phoenix located?" Somewhere in the back of his mind, Harry tried to resist. But his gaze fell upon Hermione, and he knew that she would be tortured if he did not answer.

"Twelve Grimmauld Place, London." Lucius smiled wickedly.

"Finite Incantatum, please," Hermione begged. "There's nothing more he can tell you, just stop!"

Lucius ignored her. Just then a small girl entered the room and all eyes fell upon her. "Michelle," Lucius called to the nine-year-old. "Come in, come in. We're just interrogating the prisoner, feel free to watch." The girl did so and sat comfortably in a leather chair that popped up out of nowhere. "Would you like to ask him some questions?"

Michelle nodded. "What is your weak point?" she asked.

"Ooh, very good question," Draco told her gleefully.

"Dementors," Harry croaked. "That, and seeing my friends tortured."

"How many O.W.L.'s did you get?"

"Seven."

"What would be worse than Death?"

"Seeing Hermione and Ron die. Seeing Lupin die. Being your slave. Losing the Battle. Being a Death Eater. Being captured and tortured... oh wait, that already happened."

"Finite Incantatum." The spell ended, and Harry instantly collapsed into unconsciousness.