Harry broke into a run as soon as he stepped out from behind the gargoyle standing watch by the entrance to Dumbledore's office. One thought was foremost on his mind – Get to Lucius. He had little idea of what he wanted to do more than hurt him, but it was a fire in his marrow that propelled him forward. The thudding of his feet on the stone floor was echoed only by the blood rining in his ears.
Lucius Malfoy. Malfoy. Malfoy!
"Andromeda!" he hollered at the portrait of the fat lady. She swung her frame open to allow him entry but Harry pushed through roughly, slamming her into the other side of the wall.
"Now that was uncalled for!" the portrait hissed, flustered. Her frame was shaking for the force."Where are you going in such a hurry, young man?" But Harry was already half way up to the sixth year boys' dormitory, bounding up the stairs two at a time. "Honestly!" she exclaimed, closing herself gently. "Teen boys these days!"
Most students were in classes and had vacated the dormitory. Harry yanked back his bedcovers back to reach for his invisibility cloak and broom, but they were gone. Cursing, he wrenched apart his bed, his trunk, but to no avail – the treasures were gone. Harry screamed inside, running his fingers through his hair. What do I do now?! He thought. A sense of urgency temporarily paralyzed his thought.
The Marauder's Map! But what good will that do me, how will I get to Lucius? He paced the room, feeling frantic. Draco . . .
He wrenched the parchment from its hiding place between an old Transfiguration textbook and ran off in search of Draco Malfoy. "I solemnly swear I up to no good," he whispered, jogging through the common room as he tapped the map with his wand. It revealed itself to him quickly, as if tuned into his hasty state. Harry pressed a hand against the portrait doorway as his eyes quickly scanned the map. Spotting his quarry, he said "Mischief managed," and pocketed the handy tool.
Hiding behind a tapestry in front of the Charms classroom he had spotted Draco within, Harry arranged himself flat against the wall. After twenty minutes he head the first students leave. Amidst the chatter and hubbub, Harry re-opened the map in his cramped hiding space. His plan was to follow Draco to lunch, stick him in the back with his wand, pull him into an empty cupboard and extract the secret to entering Malfoy Manor safely. If that was possible. Which probably wouldn't be easy, but at this point Harry told himself that a full body bind and some slow torture would be a necessary evil. In any case, the plan collapsed like a dwarf star because Draco seemed to have other plans. While Professor Flitwick and the sixth year Ravenclaws and Slytherins sauntered on their pretty way to lunch, the Maurader's Map showed Draco still seated in the classroom. Harry waited five more minutes, then resolutely put the parchment away and, wand aloft, entered the room. As soon as he had passed the threshold, the heavy door closed behind him with a determined thud. On guard, Harry advanced into the room. Draco was perched on the Professor's desk, wand twirling between his pale fingers. His other hand rested, fist clenched, at his side.
"Looking for someone, Potter?" A smile danced sourly on his lips.
"Yeah," the dark-haired boy answered quietly. "I am."
The smile disappeared. "Come here, Potter. I have something for you."
"Like fun you do!" he scoffed, giving his wand a test flick.
"Put that away."
"Why should I trust you?"
"You shouldn't." Draco flinched slightly as Harry stepped closer towards him. "But I know what you want and I will give it to you."
"You couldn't begin to fathom what I want!" Harry spat. Draco wrinkled his nose, then stretched out his hand, holding his palm out to Harry.
"Floo powder," he said quite calmly. "Use the direction, Malfoy Manor. You'll arrive in a hearth with a grate. You'll have five seconds to deliver the password or the grate will move forward and crush you against the back of the fireplace. For security purposes." The blonde's mouth curled up in a smirk. "The password is Ophiuchus. Once you give the password, the grate will slide away and you are free to roam about my house as you please. Whether my father is there or not –," he pronounced the word harshly – "I cannot guarantee."
Harry had not lowered his raised arm. "Why are you telling me this?" he queried.
"Because there is only one person in this world I believe deserves to die, and he is . . . not you," Draco managed to recite calmly. "After everything I've heard about what he did – to Granger – do you think I am proud?" His eyebrows narrowed. "Do you think I respect him? Everyone knows of course! Marietta Edgecombe's Aunt works at St. Mungos, she blabbed. No surprise there, of course." He glared at Harry. "I am ashamed to be a Malfoy." His eyes were cold, his voice seductive. He held out the fistful of powder again, gesturing towards his peer. "Go on, Harry." He pointed at the fireplace behind him with his wand, the snake offering the apple. "I know you don't trust me, but you want him dead as much as I do, I think . . ."
Hesitantly, Harry lowered his wand. "Hurry up, Potter my bloody arm is tired," said Draco impatiently. His nemesis held out his hand and the Malfoy heir poured the shimmering dust into it. Harry stepped into the fireplace. "Malfoy Manor," he enunciated and dashed the substance to the ground.
As Draco had described, Harry came out in a cold stone hearth closed off with a thick metal grate. The grate began moving towards him as soon as his feet hit the ground, moving soundlessly, sinisterly forward in its tracks. As a quaint little touch, the grate was equipped with some rather prickly looking spikes. "Ophiuchus," said Harry hastily. The grate immediately stopped, squeaking slightly. It didn't seem like guests used this entrance very often - Harry had to squeeze past stacks of pots and pans blocking his exit before he emerged into the kitchen proper. Stepping into the room, he perused his surroundings with wand at the ready. It was a long kitchen, twice as long as it was wide. The floor and walls were black marble, giving a semblance of elegance, but copper pots and wooden bowls piled around almost as high as the ceiling belied the idea that the kitchen was a place the Mafoys spent quality time. After circling the room once, Harry turned to progress into the mansion. A dark hall stretched itself languidly down the middle of the building. Harry traversed its length slowly, poking his head into the many sitting rooms, libraries, smoking rooms and guest rooms. It all appeared to be empty. No wizards, no house elves, even. At the end was a large chamber used presumably for entertaining if Harry could tell anything by the severe seating which banked a low ebony coffee table in the left half of the room. The right wing was occupied by a large dining table, a gleaming chessboard suspended in game on its surface. A dark green rug swathed its floor and a fire crackled at each extremity of the room. Harry stepped into the light.
Tied to a high-backed chair in the middle of the space, his eyes registered a figure with longish red hair. "Ginny?" he gasped, rushing towards her. The girl's head was slumped over her knees, her hair a waterfall down to her toes. Harry cupped her chin with one hand and pushed her hair back with the other. His wand fell absently to the floor as he gasped and let go of the delicate head – it had no face.
"I've been expecting you," drawled a familiar voice. Harry's neck cracked as he snapped around to face his adversary. Lucius Malfoy stood in the doorway with his wand aloft, robed in deep blue. He looked like an ink spot on the flickering yellow wall. Harry groped along the floor for his wand, attempting to maintain eye-contact with the older man.
"On your left, Potter." Harry glanced down and grasped the wood with his hand. He tremblingly raising it level to Lucius' own. "You don't have it in you, Potter," he whispered, taking a step towards the boy. "You're not a killer. You're too . . . weak." He paused. "After all the fun I had with your lithe little friend, I thought you'd be rather more friendly towards me.
"You." Harry was seething, his fingers white around his wand.
"You're not a killer, much as you want to be," he smirked. "Perhaps you should try being more of a lover – like me. I'm sure you could teach the Hogwarts girls a thing or two, given time. Perhaps you just need an apt instructor, like Miss. Granger did . . ."
Harry's eyes were swimming with his fury. He felt he energy sizzle through his veins, through his wand. Before he had even said it, Lucius looked stunned. But he did say it, and the words coursed through the room as the breath rushed out of his body. "Avada Kedavra!" he bellowed.
Harry shuddered as Malfoy fell down like a rag doll. He, too, collapsed - sobs wracking his body. He had murdered another human being. All his hate and range had fled with the act, leaving him totally empty. He felt like a child, he felt destroyed.
"Well, well, Potter. I must admit, I didn't believe you could do it. I am impressed." Harry raised his head. The disembodied voice belonged to a pale, deathly thin man before him. Seven Death Eaters stood in a semi-circle around one figure, obscenely snake-like yet anthropoid. "Congratulations," whispered Lord Voldemort. Harry's spine tingled at the sound of his cold voice. "I admire your lack of formality. I assure you I will reciprocate. "Avada Kedavra!" he hissed, before Harry Potter even had a chance to raise his wand, before he had a chance to speak, before he had a chance to forgive himself – the Boy Who Lived, died.
The Dark Lord surveyed the two bodies on the floor – one dark, one light. One young, one old. He stepped over his former servant and turned over Harry's body with his foot. "Surprisingly easy," he sniffed. "The boy was too weak to even put up a fight." He faced his remaining servants. "Nott!" he called. "Send his body to Albus as a mark of my regard."
"Yes, my Lord," he intoned, going up to Harry's body and hooking his hands under the lifeless arms before apparating away.
"Bellatrix."
"Yes, my Lord."
"Inform your sister that she is now a widow," he said casually. The woman nodded. "Tell her not to mention anything to young Draco." The side of the Dark Lord's mouth twitched upward. "I shall inform him myself when we pay Hogwarts a visit."