Harry Potter and the Simulacrum Seal

Chapter Twenty-Four: The Defector

George had been serving as Voldemort's unwilling assistant. The blackboards lining the walls on either side of Voldemort's chambers were thick with symbols George had scratched down in white chalk with the threat of his brother's demise hanging over his head.

The Dark Lord rarely stirred from his chair. George quietly suspected that he couldn't.

He ate, slept, and worked. The arithmantic equations and runic sigils Voldemort was working with were completely new to George. He'd never been great shakes at arithmancy - hadn't even bothered with it after his third year - but for once he could see a purpose for those silly academic equations. He'd picked up more about arithmancy and runes in his weeks with Voldemort than he had in years at Hogwarts.

George could tell that he was working on something practical - and not only practical, but different, even creative.

Whatever else one could say about Lord Voldemort, he was bloody brilliant. He was sewing half a dozen branches of magic together with needlepoint precision. When he was in a rare good mood or, more often, when he was pensively considering his next stitch, he would think aloud and even explain parts of what he was doing to confirm them to himself.

George had thought he was clever, but he couldn't hold a candle to such a mind. If it was taking Voldemort months to figure out this spell, it would surely take almost anyone else innumerable years.

He just wished he could understand what Voldemort was trying to do. Bits and pieces made sense, but not the whole picture. He was sure that it had something to do with the prophecy; no matter how crowded the blackboards became, there was always a space for the prophecy to be written in bold, curvy letters.

Once, when Voldemort was particularly thoughtful, George had heard him whisper, over and over, one line:

Neither can live while the other survives.

Other than that, he knew that it reeked of Dark magic, and thus it couldn't bode well.

Yet he couldn't bring himself to rebel - not when Fred's life was at stake. If he could keep Fred alive just a while longer, maybe, just maybe, they'd both be rescued, and they could leave this terror behind them.

Three days before, the writing had stopped. Voldemort's plan was complete.

He'd expected to be killed now that he was useless, and his only hope was that he could die alongside his brother in a relatively painless way; the Killing Curse would do nicely.

He prayed for that as he was dragged to the door of Voldemort's apartments. Though he was a Gryffindor, he couldn't help but fear death a little - but he was also proud and refused to show his fear to the slime around him.

The first thing he noticed was that the ever-present skeleton hanging above Voldemort's throne, usually the first sight to greet him, was gone.

Then he turned his head, and the next horrible thing he saw was Ginny.

'George!' said Ginny, surprised. 'Are you all right?'

'Yeah,' he managed to choke out, frozen in place by the shock of seeing his sister here of all places.

Ginny tried to move toward him, but her arms were held tightly in place by Death Eaters. She struggled angrily against them; after she kicked one in the shin, he let go, and the other barely managed to keep her back.

Voldemort, with a long-suffering sigh, pointed his wand at her, and Ginny was momentarily paralyzed. The Death Eaters re-established their grip.

'Such a touching reunion of siblings - but why did you bring her to me? I do not require her for some days yet.'

The Death Eaters froze in fear. 'We...we thought you needed her now, my Lord. You said to bring one of the prisoners -'

George knew Voldemort's moods well enough from constant exposure to see that he was even more irritable than on average.

'You thought wrongly, fool. If I needed her, I would have sent for her. Take her to the dungeons, and bring me the other one.'

As they dragged Ginny toward the door, she struggled again. Glaring at Voldemort, she yelled, 'You're not going to lure him into a trap! Harry's not as stupid as you think he is!'

Voldemort held up his palm, and the Death Eaters holding Ginny took it as a cue to stop moving. 'Harry Potter is precisely as stupid as I think he is. If he were any cleverer, he would have seen this coming.'

'You know you're going to lose, don't you?' Ginny retorted haughtily, her lip curled in disdain. 'You always lose to him.'

George was expecting an outburst, but instead Voldemort appraised her. George could see that he was deep in thought, as if Ginny were some magical mystery he was intent on sorting out.

'Charming,' he said with a sneer, waving to his Death Eaters to continue taking her out the door.

But before they could leave, someone else barged in, nearly running right into George.

'My Lord!' cried Snape, falling immediately to his knees. 'Please, excuse the interruption, but I must speak with you on an important matter!'

'Snape!' snarled Ginny. She tried to lunge at him, but the Death Eaters held her back. One of George's guards moved to help, and it took all three to keep her from Snape, who was ignoring her.

'Am I the only one here who knows how to use a wand?!' complained Voldemort, voice raised in anger.

The three Death Eaters all reached for their wands at once, leaving Ginny free for about a second before Voldemort hit her with another spell that stopped her in her place. She growled in frustration as she shot a hateful glare at Snape.

'You're so very popular, Severus. You must tell me how you manage to win so many friends - but first, please explain to me why there are a half dozen people in my room uninvited. Are you quite sure the new recruits you have guarding my door are up to the task?'

Snape stayed silent. George had to give him credit for brains.

'As for your "important matter", I don't intend to discuss it. Your concern for my health is unnecessary. I am fully prepared to face Potter. You are all dismissed - except for you.'

Voldemort's eyes fell on George. He knew this was the end but tried even harder not to show it in front of Ginny.

When they were alone, Voldemort rose from his chair with some effort, pushing himself up with his arms instead of using his twisted legs. George had a fleeting thought of attempting to overpower him.

'I wouldn't recommend it,' Voldemort warned him.

George was getting bloody tired of Legilimency - but Voldemort, however weak physically, was still a very powerful wizard with a wand in his hand.

'You wonder why your sister is here.'

'No,' answered George, his anger stupidly rising to the forefront at the thought of Ginny. 'I know why she's here. You want to lure Harry in.'

Voldemort chuckled without humour. 'And you think that would work, do you? He didn't come for you. Why would he save her?'

George didn't answer. He'd learned that Voldemort preferred monologues.

'Tell me, does he care for her? My spy at Beauxbatons claims that he visited her there. It is a long journey to take for someone who means nothing to him - but he had other reasons for being in France...'

Now that he was used to being on his feet, Voldemort was able to slowly pace the room. 'Perhaps Severus is correct,' he said quietly, with clear reluctance. 'Yes, perhaps this is too rash...and yet...'

He turned to George, and with the force of Legilimency, he boomed, 'Does he love her?'

'I don't know,' answered George, with no choice but to be honest because of the damn Legilimency. 'It isn't the sort of thing someone else can say for sure.'

Voldemort scowled. 'I do so hate basing my plans on other people's thoughts. I intend to make my own judgment on the matter.'

He dug deeper into George's mind, and George fell to his knees. It was one of the worst intrusions he'd suffered. His memories were torn from him and examined, going back further and further until Voldemort had seen every time George had witnessed Harry and Ginny together.

When it was over, he didn't get up for a long while, and Voldemort did not speak to him.

Some time later - George didn't know how long - heard a tentative knock on the door as if it were made with a sledgehammer. He whimpered and covered his ears.

'Ah yes, the boy.'

George looked up in confusion and noticed Voldemort's eyes wander to a long table on the far side of the room. The skeleton was there.

The door squeaked open, and Voldemort nodded the Death Eaters in. With them was a young man George recognized - Dean Thomas. At the sight of Voldemort, his eyes widened in fear as George's once had.

'Take Weasley and leave that one here with me.'

They levitated George back to his cell. He'd been so prepared for death that it was disappointing to remain alive.

***

Harry returned to Grimmauld Place sore, exhausted, impressed - and proud. Scrimgeour had been the Head of the Auror Office before his appointment as Minister for good reason. Though he still didn't like the man, his skill was undeniable.

And that had made defeating him, after long hours of no-holds-barred duelling, all the more satisfying.

Scrimgeour had beaten him a fair few times before Harry had improved enough to score a defeat of his own, but the Minister had been shocked at his own defeat - and he'd immediately started to address Harry with more respect in his tone. Harry reminded himself to thank Mad Eye and Remus for all their long hours of work training him; it seemed like they would pay off.

'Wow,' said Harry as he stood in the doorway. The house was full to bursting and very noisy. The entire Order was gathering battle supplies and inductees with fervour for the upcoming battle while Harry trained.

Several pairs of eyes caught sight of him, and he decided to make his escape before they came over. He hadn't been in a talking mood lately; he was far too worried about Ginny.

And there was Ron to consider.

Since Ginny and Dean had been abducted three days before, Ron had been terse, even with Hermione. He helped the Order with unstoppable energy borne of anger, but at night, alone, Harry had seen him sit on his bed and stare at his wand.

That was when Harry had done something he still felt a tug of guilt for. Remembering what Hermione had said, he had used Legilimency on his best friend.

Ron hadn't even noticed; his feelings were boiling at the surface, easy to sense. The blast of hatred had shocked Harry deeply. He'd thought there would be despair at Ginny's capture, but instead Ron was thinking back to his duel with Snape and wishing furiously that he'd managed to kill him after all.

Ever since then, Harry had searched his own heart for those feelings. He was furious that Ginny was being used like this, and he wanted to teach Voldemort a painful lesson. Yet he couldn't find the sort of hatred Ron had for Snape within himself...not even for Voldemort.

Harry saw Voldemort as a sickening, despicable creature who needed to die. But there was a difference Harry hadn't considered enough before between wanting a person dead and wanting to kill a person the way Ron did.

Harry was afraid that he wouldn't be able to kill Voldemort - not because of lack of skill, but because he didn't hate him enough to be his murderer.

He decided to do the only thing he could think of: ask Hermione for advice.

She was in her room; potion fumes wafted under the door. He didn't know what she was concocting, but it smelt like rotten eggs.

He knocked on her door. 'Oh, come in!' she yelled in frustration.

Harry hesitated, wondering if he should come back another time - or maybe never. But Voldemort would take advantage of his doubts in battle if he didn't settle them now; he knew that this was the wise, if awkward, course.

The potion was close to boiling over; Hermione saw Harry and Vanished the potion with a wave of her wand.

'There you are! How was it?' She scowled, no doubt thinking of Scrimgeour.

Harry shrugged. 'It was okay. He's not so bad.'

'Good; we need him.'

'What are you working on?' He approached the cauldron.

'Oh...well, to be honest, it's a complete mess, and it was silly of me to try...I'm lucky I didn't blow the house up...' Hermione looked away in embarrassment.

'What is it?'

'It's supposed to be Felix Felicis.'

Harry grinned. 'That's a brilliant idea!'

Hermione looked down sadly at her cauldron. 'Honestly, Harry, it would be stupid of us not to take it. I can't believe Voldemort won't have thought of it - and he has Snape.'

Harry frowned; that hadn't even occurred to him. He realized how lucky he was to have a brain like Hermione's on his side. 'Why don't you ask Slughorn for help? He'd make us some.'

'Slughorn's moved again, and he hasn't left a forwarding address. The Order thinks he may have left the country.'

Harry sighed; of course Hermione would have tried to get his help already. 'Aurors have to get good marks in Potions to enter training - maybe Tonks could help.'

'I want to do it myself,' she said stubbornly. 'If I can't, then I'll ask her, but I feel useless enough as it is. I can't help you, I can't help Ron with his problems -'

'Er, yeah, about that,' muttered Harry. 'We need to talk about Ron. He'll try to kill Snape again if he sees him. I'm not against Snape dying, but...'

'I know...I don't want it to be Ron either. It would change him too much.'

Harry was shaken by her words. Change him too much? Does that mean she won't see me in the same way if I kill Voldemort? Will I be a different person - a worse person?

'On the other hand, I suppose we can't afford to be squeamish now. Our enemies won't be.' But Hermione sounded saddened, and Harry was sure she didn't really mean it.

'I'm supposed to murder Voldemort,' said Harry bluntly. 'I don't know if I can do it. I mean, I think I can, but I don't know if I have it in me to...you understand, right?'

Hermione looked at him in utter amazement, as if it actually hadn't occurred to her before. 'That's not murder, Harry! It's self-defence! He's tried to kill you time and time again!'

'But this time I'm seeking him out.'

'Still, it's not - oh Harry, it's not the same at all!' she protested strenuously.

'It feels the same to me.'

'You won't technically kill him,' Hermione reminded him. 'The locket Horcrux and Nagini are still out there.'

'That's not the point,' he argued. 'Once those are destroyed, he will be dead, and I'll be the one who killed him.'

'No one will shed a tear over him, except maybe Bellatrix Lestrange! He'd kill you if you had the chance!'

'Snape would kill me if he had the chance too.'

Hermione's voice wavered. 'It's...it's just not the same.'

But Harry wasn't sure - and Hermione didn't sound sure either.

***

Ginny had been counting the days. It was Christmas now.

She hadn't seen Voldemort since her arrival. Dean and George weren't nearby, either. Dirt clung to her hair and her robes, and the terrible cold slipped through her winter cloak. Meals were regular, at least, if not appetizing - she'd given up her hunger strike under threat of Imperius.

Voldemort wanted to keep her alive. Ginny found that more disquieting than if he'd tortured or killed her outright. She was sure that she was going to prove a liability to Harry, and she would never forgive herself if something happened to him because he'd tried to save her.

Ginny had to get out before that happened. She just needed to figure out how.

A clank of metal sounded - it wasn't at all like Bellatrix banging her head against the bars. Then a door opened and shut, and soon Ginny heard footsteps coming closer.

She was unsurprised to see a Death Eater and was almost relieved if it meant an end to her boredom. Besides, she had a better chance of escaping when she was outside the locked cell than in it.

To her dismay, instead of the Death Eater taking her away, he stepped in her cell himself and sat cross-legged on the floor. Ginny stiffened and sat up straight, wondering what was going on.

'Hello,' said the Death Eater as he removed his mask. Ginny recognized him immediately, and her eyes narrowed in suspicion.

'Malfoy.'

Draco Malfoy wouldn't meet her eyes. 'Weasley,' he muttered without his usual venomous intonation.

'What do you want?'

'Do you know what's going to happen to you?' he asked. 'Has the Dark Lord told you anything?'

Ginny paused, wondering if she could somehow obtain his wand. His position wasn't defensively solid; he'd have a hard time moving if she jumped on him and tried to wrench the wand away. On the other hand, he was larger and better fed.

And he seemed to be reading her mind, because he looked at her crossly and directed his wand at her.

'No,' she replied finally, realizing that escape was unlikely now. 'Do you know anything?' If Malfoy was willing to share, she'd take any information she could.

'Not much...except...'

His eyes met hers, and she was surprised at the desperation she saw there. 'It's something horrible.'

'I figured as much. This is Voldemort we're talking about,' she muttered flippantly.

'Don't say the name!' whispered Malfoy in immediate terror.

'I'm not frightened.'

'You should be.' Malfoy was adamant.

'Why are you here?'

He sized her up for a moment before he seemed to make a decision about talking to her. 'I need to know about the locket.'

Ginny's head snapped up. 'The locket? Slytherin's locket? That's right, you took it. You...you didn't give it to Vol - him?'

'No.' He shifted, uncomfortable on the hard stone that Ginny had become used to - or maybe uncomfortable for another reason. 'I should have, probably, but...it seemed important.'

Ginny couldn't believe this opportunity had dropped into her lap. She knew that she could be a help to Harry after all. Why would Malfoy be talking to her unless he was already wavering in his faith?

'This is important. If you have it, you must give it to Harry.'

Draco snorted. 'I'm not going to just give it to him. I want guarantees. How important is it to him, anyway?'

Though he was rude, Ginny detected desperation. She decided that she could afford to play hard to get. 'How much can I trust you?'

He rolled his eyes and snarled meanly. 'I can take the information I want from you if you won't give it to me.'

Ginny's anger sparked, but she cooled it. Perhaps she couldn't push him very far yet. Smiling serenely, she said, 'All right, I'll trust you.'

The statement obviously took Draco aback. 'Really?'

'You wouldn't be here if you wanted to give it to You-Know-Who,' she pointed out, trying to sound unaffected even though she was bursting with urgency. 'You'd have done it already.'

Draco squirmed, but he didn't disagree.

Ginny realized she had to give away some information to gain his trust. She didn't like revealing details about the Horcruxes - it wasn't her secret, it was Harry's. But she was sure that Harry would tell him if it meant getting the locket in the end.

'The locket is a Horcrux - it holds a piece of You-Know-Who's soul inside so that he won't die if his mortal body is destroyed. That's how he was able to return. He stored several of them in secret places, and Harry's managed to eliminate...I'm not sure how many.'

'So if they're all destroyed, he'll die?' Draco sounded hopeful, which made Ginny hopeful about her chances for success.

'No - after the Horcruxes are gone, Harry still needs to defeat him.'

Draco's hopeful look drooped. 'There's no chance of that.'

'Harry will defeat him eventually,' Ginny said with certainty that she didn't have to fake. 'He's managed to at least come off even every time they've met in battle, and he's been training really hard.'

'The Dark Lord is no pushover,' muttered Draco. '...But on the other hand, he's become really weak. You saw him.'

'What's happened to him?' She couldn't help but be curious. Whatever was making him look so decrepit, it had to be a new development; she was sure that Harry didn't know.

'I don't know. He won't say. I think Snape knows, though.'

'Snape,' spat Ginny as if his name were a curse.

Their shared dislike of Snape forged a momentary bond - until Draco looked away again, his face drawn with guilt. 'There's a battle happening soon. If Potter defeats him then, I'll give him the locket.'

'Draco, he can't win unless the Horcruxes are destroyed. All Harry can do is force Voldemort from his mortal shell - and then it would only take a few committed Death Eaters like Snape to resurrect him. They won't make the mistake of thinking he's gone for good this time - he's probably already got everything set up so he'll come back almost instantly after a mortal defeat.'

Draco was quiet as he considered his words, and Ginny stayed silent, allowing him to think. There was nothing more she could think of to convince him.

In a voice laced with terror, Draco finally spoke, 'If I were to give Potter the locket, I would still need guarantees.'

'He'd give you almost anything for it,' answered Ginny without hesitation.

'I'd take no less than clemency for me and my parents - and protection.'

'Done.'

Draco blinked. 'Seriously?'

'He doesn't like any of you, but defeating You-Know-Who is more important. Scrimgeour's practical - he'd agree too.'

Ginny wasn't as sure as she sounded, but now that she had Draco thinking seriously about it, she had no intention of posing any further obstacles to him.

'I...I need to think.'

'Take your time. I'm not going anywhere,' she joked.

Draco twitched, and Ginny examined his expression sharply. He knew more than he was letting on.

'I'll think fast,' he said as though it were a concession, and then he was gone.

***

Tonks and Hermione grinned gleefully over their small cauldron of dancing gold Felix Felicis, watching drops of it leap into the air and plop back down.

Harry couldn't be as enthusiastic. If it was true that Voldemort would likely take some as well, this would only make the two sides even in the upcoming battle.

'Get some vials, Harry!' ordered Hermione.

Harry couldn't help but grin at the command, and he mock-bowed as he backed out of the room, earning a lightly reproving glance from Hermione.

As he searched for vials, he came across Mad-Eye Moody - though it seemed more like Moody had come across him.

'The potion finished yet?' he asked gruffly.

'Yeah,' Harry replied.

He was of the same mind about it as Harry. 'It'll keep us on equal footing at best.' He stared through Harry with his magical eye. 'You should take some now.'

Harry frowned in confusion. 'The battle won't start for another twenty-four hours.'

'You should take a dose now, a dose when that runs out, and another right before the battle.' Moody sounded very sure of himself.

'It's toxic,' argued Harry. 'Can I take that much without -'

'It won't harm you if you take the proper dosage,' interrupted Moody. 'I know you're not fool enough to let Felix Felicis make you cocky. The dose for the battle is only to counteract the Felix Felicis that the other side's sure to take. This is when it will matter. Luck in the preparation for the battle is nearly as important as luck in the battle itself.'

Harry could see his logic - and even if then Felix Felicis ended up doing him harm, it wouldn't kill him as fast as Voldemort would if Harry was without it. 'Okay, but I need to find some vials for Hermione.'

'I'll see to that.' Moody reached into his robes with a gnarled hand and smoothly pulled out an empty vial from one of his deep pockets. 'Take this now and fill it up for yourself before anyone else gets a drop. You need it more than anyone.'

As soon as Harry swallowed his first mouthful, his eyes glided to the dirty window - and he gaped as he saw who was outside.

***

Draco startled Ginny awake. 'Let's go!'

She looked up at him blearily. 'What?'

'Let's get out of here! Take me to Potter, wherever he is!'

She immediately woke up fully, realizing that this was her chance to escape. She was surprised that Draco intended to save her - but then she remembered that he wouldn't know how to find Harry without her.

'I won't leave without George and Dean.' She desperately wanted to get out before Voldemort's plan was enacted - and she knew it would be soon - but she couldn't leave them behind with a clear conscience.

'Your brother's gone - I don't know where - and Thomas is dead.'

Ginny's breath caught at the last. Dean was dead. And where could George be?

'We need to leave quickly! I've Stunned the dungeon guards, but they won't stay that way.'

Reluctantly, Ginny agreed to go.

He grabbed her arm and dragged her out of the cell; Ginny hadn't realized until then how weak her legs were now. Soon enough the blood returned to them, and she was keeping up with Draco with some effort.

They didn't encounter any Death Eaters on the way out; she wondered how Draco had managed that. Fresh air filled her lungs, but she had no time to breathe deeply.

'The Apparition barrier is further out,' he told her.

They broke into a swift run, the cold winter winds pounding in Ginny's ears.

And then Ginny's feet were dragged up into the air, and she went boomeranging backwards toward the Death Eater compound. Draco turned around and stared, an expression of utter horror on his face.

He gave Ginny one last sympathetic look before he took off again. Before the next spell could reach him, he had Apparated away.

Ginny was paralyzed in place, levitating inches of the ground. She stared into Voldemort's angry, sneering face. She thought she saw pain there, too - his legs seemed to be shaking from the effort of standing.

Then her eyes fell on Lucius Malfoy, who had taken off his mask and was staring in shock at the spot where his son had Apparated.

'It seems we have a defector, Lucius. You know what to do about that, don't you?'

'Yes, my lord.' His voice was raw.

Snape came up from behind Malfoy. 'My Lord, perhaps it would be wise to take the Felix Felicis I have brewed to assure that future escape attempts will be unsuccessful.'

Ginny could tell before Snape finished that Voldemort had no intention of complying. 'I don't require luck. Felix Felicis turns men into fools - and as I've already told you, there are too many delicate magical processes at work for me to add another unnecessarily. I will take no potions - not for luck, not for strength.'

'Potter will no doubt -'

'I don't want to hear it!' Voldemort bellowed, and Snape quailed at his anger. 'Why are you still here, Malfoy? Go kill your errant son before I decide to hold you and your wife responsible for his actions!'

Malfoy bowed and departed. Ginny was dragged back to the dungeons.

***

Harry had been expecting - stupidly, he realized - that his presence would go unnoticed by Malfoy until he was close enough to aim a spell. He hadn't had his Invisibility Cloak nearby, and he had no idea how long Malfoy would be loitering near Grimmauld Place - so he'd gone out the door, depending (already) on the luck of Felix Felicis.

But Draco had noticed Harry as soon as he was across the threshold of Grimmauld Place, and he'd stopped in his tracks instead of running or Apparating away.

'Potter?'

Harry realized by his shocked tone that Draco hadn't expected to see him here.

With his wand raised - Harry had no doubt he was more than a match for Malfoy now - he asked, 'Why are you here?'

Draco stared in confusion. 'I don't know. I wanted to find you. I guess I got lucky.'

'Do you have a message from your master?' spat Harry. 'Is he backing out?'

Draco smirked. 'Not likely. I have something for you - you know what it is. I want to make a deal.'

Harry's first thought was Ginny, but then he realized with sadness that Draco must mean the locket. 'Oh...sure. What's the deal?'

'I need protection. Voldemort knows I've betrayed him. I also want you to swear your people won't hurt my mum or dad. When this is over, the three of us can leave the country - I don't care anymore as long as we survive.'

There's something different about Malfoy, he realized. He seemed sad, older, tired. Like me.

'Why shouldn't I take the locket and let you answer for your crimes?'

'Because I'm not dumb enough to have it with me. As soon as my parents and I are off this Merlin-forsaken island and hidden somewhere Voldemort can't get us, I'll give you the locket's location.'

'I won't help a murderer escape from his crimes,' said Harry, his voice dripping with disgust.

'I'm not a murderer!' he yelled in protest. 'I haven't killed anyone!'

Harry was struck both by his honesty and by how much not being a murderer seemed to mean to him. 'And what about your mum and dad?'

'You know about my father...but my mother, she would never...'

'Then I'll help you and your mum. You can even stay with me until we can find a way to get you both safely out of England.'

'This isn't a negotiation. Take it or leave it, Potter.'

Draco's hand tightened on his wand, but Harry didn't move to threaten him. Draco Malfoy had made one critical mistake in the negotiations: he'd told Harry that Voldemort knew of his betrayal. That meant Malfoy had no other hope - so he'd take the deal Harry gave him.

'Then I'll leave it. I won't give refuge to a murderer.'

There was an obvious twinge on Draco's face. Harry suppressed a smile - when it came to choosing between his own life and his father's, he had no doubt which would win out.

'You can't be serious. You need the locket.'

'Not really,' said Harry, shrugging nonchalantly. 'I can always get it from you after I beat Voldemort tomorrow. After he's gone I, the Order, and the Ministry can devote all our resources to finding you and the locket to make sure he never returns.'

Draco blanched. 'You wouldn't.'

Harry kept his face neutral, neither confirming nor denying. 'This isn't a negotiation. Take it or leave it, Malfoy.'

Fear crossed Draco's face, but it quickly turned to simmering hatred. 'I don't have a choice, do I?'

'No. Go get the locket while I get Remus. He'll need to give you an invite inside.' With a piercing, angry expression of his own, Harry added, 'And then you can tell us everything you know about Voldemort's plans for tomorrow.'