ch. 11

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"I think you know exactly what I want," Harry said evenly, looking Draco Malfoy square in the face. The Slytherin's expression gave away nothing.

"And I think you know that the wandfire and commotion will have registered on the wards. We'll be having company very shortly."

"Then I suggest you tell me what I need to know, or your 'company' will find your dead body on your billiard room floor."

"I'm not an expert Legilimens, Potter," Draco said coolly, looking unfazed by the death threat. "Perhaps you'd like to enlighten me." Harry felt his ire begin to rise.

"Where is she?" He gritted out through clenched teeth.

"Where is who?" Malfoy parroted back, the corners of his thin lips twitching in amusement. In a flash, Harry was across the room, wrenching Malfoy's head backwards, and jabbing his wand into the other man's jugular.

"You're obviously not taking this as seriously as you should."

"You won't do anything to me," Malfoy said in a superior tone. "You're too noble, too soft, and too bloody Gryffindor."

"What have I left to lose?" Harry hissed in his ear. "Answer me that. You and your cohorts have taken everything that mattered...everything. You can believe that I mean exactly what I say... I will kill you if you don't tell me what you know about Bellatrix Lestrange and what she did to Hermione."

"I haven't seen Aunt Bella in over five years, before your werewolf killed her. And what - you think I've saved the moldering corpse of the Mudblood down in my wine cellar or something?" Malfoy said in a disbelieving voice, sputtering a little as Harry jabbed the wand more forcefully into the side of his neck.

"Dolohov told us you were there," Harry bluffed. "What was that object you tossed to Bellatrix? Portkey to your lovely villa here? Do you know what will happen to all of your precious influence and family fortune if the fact that you've harbored a known high-level Death Eater for five years becomes common knowledge?" An unpleasant laugh escaped Harry's lips. "Scrimgeour would disavow you so fast your head would spin."

"You're lying," Malfoy said, though his aura of arrogant calm was less convincing than it had been previously. "Dolohov has told you nothing. He wouldn't - " He broke off suddenly, looking unsure as to what it was safe to say.

" - betray you?" Harry finished for him. "He sang like a phoenix. Spilled his guts to be spared the Kiss. I can offer you the same."

"Your precious Mudblood is dead, and - " Malfoy broke off with a cry of pain, as Harry released the back of his neck and slammed his open palm into the Slytherin's patrician nose. Malfoy's arms pinwheeled outwards, as he was flung back from the force of the blow, knocking over a stone half-column on which stood a exquisite statuette, which shattered all over the floor. He lay stunned among the shards, blood from a laceration staining his silvery hair and rushing copiously from both nostrils.

"Get up!" Harry snarled, circling around him and using a Mobilicorpus spell to lift him to his feet. Malfoy looked skewers at the Auror, while he gingerly daubed blood from beneath his broken nose. "While we're repaying debts from sixth year, remember Sectumsempra? Would you still have women falling all over you if I scar up your face? P'raps a lightning bolt?" He traced the shape in the air with his wand. Part of him wanted to recoil from the violence, but a larger part of him delighted in the fear that flashed across Malfoy's face.

"You're mad!" He exclaimed, obviously meaning it as something derogatory, but Harry smiled at him.

"Yes, I am. Now, you're going to tell me what you did to Hermione or I'm going to start breaking fingers." He spewed a low-level Reductor that only barely missed Malfoy's sleeve to show that he meant business. "And then you're going to tell me where I can find Bellatrix Lestrange."

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