Stylistic Harmony

Chapter Thirty Two
It had been two weeks since she had left Hogwarts, two weeks she had been without Draco and Blaise, her patience was wearing thin. Christmas was looming, but not one person around was in the festive mood. The Order were frantic, reports were coming in thick and fast from all sources, something huge was happening. Hermione stood in the kitchen, watching the people buzzing around her, all of them clutching various pieces of parchments, owls were flying around her head constantly. No-one really knew what was happening, only one word and one number were getting through. Endgame7. Every single report that was coming in said that one phrase. The seven, they assumed referred to the seven Horcruxes, but the word was a mystery. She had heard it before, the password to the Slytherin common room, of course she didn't tell anyone that. It was much more fun watching their constant failed attempts at deciphering its meaning. Even she didn't know its entire meaning, and that frightened her a little. Though the end of the conflict between good and evil would mean that her and Draco could be together, it still petrified her that she could lose him. If his side found out what he did, and what he wanted, he would be killed on the spot, and then they would come for her. She turned as someone tapped her on the shoulder, it was Lupin needing her help with yet another communication from various Aurors stationed around the country where Death Eater activity was rife. This one was the same as the others, some garbled information, then ENDGAME7, scrawled in black letters across the parchment. Frustrated she shouted at her former Professor,
"Its all the same! There's no new information coming in! What's the fucking point of sitting around here staring at pages and pages that all say the same bloody thing!" Everyone in the kitchen turned and looked at her, all of them slightly taken aback by her outrage. The room began to shake with her anger. She could feel Harry and Ron's accusing stares at her, glaring back, she screwed up the piece of parchment and threw it in the air, where it promptly caught fire. Swivelling on her heel, she strode out from the room. Those left in her wake watched as the parchment fell to floor, as nothing but ash.
She stormed up the stairs and went to her room, the door swung open before she touched it, her power blowing it open for her. She kicked it shut behind her with her heel. The world in her head was darkening, she felt the walls closing in on her. She couldn't stand much more of this. Harry and Ron always watching her, waiting for her to slip up, or waiting for something that would tell them of her true allegiance. She knew they didn't trust her, they wanted to, but right now they didn't. She desperately wanted to see Draco, almost to the point that she had packed her bag ready to find someway to get to him, but she had no idea where to go. She couldn't be certain that they had gone to the Manor, for all she knew they could be anywhere. She had had no reply to her letter, so she wrote another after a week and a half of not hearing from them. She didn't receive a reply to this one either, though she wasn't sure whether letters from unauthorised sources would get through. She paced up and down, racking her brains for some hope in this mess of an existence. Tap. She spun around, tap, Draco's owl, at her window. That answered her question about them not being able to get letters to her. She tore across the room and wrenched the ancient window open, almost pulling it from its hinges, the owl hopped in and stuck its leg out obediently. She pulled the letter from its leg and opened it, there was a huge ink blot on the page, she shook it. The blot began to swirl, words, penned in Draco's elegant script, began to form in front of her eyes, she read them quickly.

Hermione,
We're back at the Manor. I'm going crazy. I miss you everyday. You're letter was a Godsend, I was, well lets just say I've been pretty much a mess without you. Blaise has had to stop me jumping on a broom and scouring the countryside for you. He's sleeping next to me now. He misses you to, he doesn't show it but I know. I feel it in him everyday. Be careful Lover, the Dark Lord is readying his army, he's planning an assault. I can't tell you where, we haven't been told yet. Keep searching for the final Horcruxes, God knows we could use your insider knowledge. I promise that we'll come back to you. Be patient Angel, we'll be together again soon.
All my love,
Draco

It was short, but it filled her heart, they were alive, and they working tirelessly to finish this and get back to her. She stopped, there was a post-script, added after the letter was written. It was in Blaise's hand, the words forming out of a blood red ink spot, it said three things.

ENDGAME7-HOGWARTS.TONIGHT

The parchment fell from her hands, realisation spread through her. The Slytherin password, to the House dormitories, within the school, and the seven wasn't the number of Horcruxes. It had been seven weeks to the day since the first attack. This was the second wave. She tore from the room and burst through into the kitchen. The whole buzz in the room stopped, everyone turned to look, she said breathlessly,
"Its Hogwarts. They're going to attack the school. Tonight."


Draco and Blaise had been holed up in the library researching for what seemed like to them a decade. It had been a useless waste of time and Draco was getting frustrated. Most of his days were spent in a drunken haze, he had smoked more cigarettes then he cared to count. His nights were spent in similar fashion, though he locked himself in his Father's study and tore the room to pieces before rebuilding it again the next morning so he could repeat the process that night. After a week of this same routine his drunken outrages worsened, he'd tear the study apart, then start on his Father's room. Then he'd tear out the house broom over his back vowing to not stop until he had found her. Blaise had had to practically drag him back by his hair. Which of course had led to blazing rows between the two of them, and that usually led them to Draco's bed, where their anger would burn and dissipate into raw, unadulterated lust. Usually Draco was the instigator, his need for some connection to Hermione was all consuming, and Blaise was his only link, when they fucked Draco could still feel her in his veins, in the power that radiated when they came. Blaise let him work out his frustrations, his love for Draco Malfoy outweighing any reason. He missed Hermione to, but he couldn't let it show, he had to be there for Draco. He was barely functioning. Drunk all day, destroying the house. He was worried. Then another letter arrived from her, it was addressed to Draco. Blaise thanked the Gods, if anything would snap him out of it, it was this. He went to the study during one of Draco's more violent rages, and tentatively knocked on the door, he was received in a less then friendly way,
"FUCK OFF." Blaise growled then kicked the door down,
"I AM NOT GOING TO TOLERATE THIS ANYMORE MALFOY! You've got to stop this, you're killing yourself!" His reply was a smack to the face before he was slammed up against the wall, one hand wrapped around his throat,
"I TOLD YOU TO FUCK OFF!" Blaise looked in his eyes, the charcoal grey had burned to black, and his lover had become unrecognisable. Blaise struggled, he twisted to pull the letter out of his pocket, he waved it in front of Draco's face. The blond stopped, and let him go, grabbing the letter from his grip. Blaise fell to the floor choking, he looked up, Draco's now grey eyes were scanning the text quickly. He dropped the parchment in front of him, then looked down at the dark haired man, who despite having been attacked chuckled,
"You gotta stop doing that to me man. I don't know that my lungs can take it. Smokings a killer you know," Draco smiled a little, Blaise indicated the letter, "What did she say?" Draco bent and picked it up, then read,

Draco,
I don't know how much more of this I can't take, not knowing if you're alright or not. I lie awake at night wishing you were next to me. Please Baby, let me know you're okay. Somethings going to happen, I can feel it. I'm scared Draco, please, please promise me you'll be careful. I don't know if you'll be able to get a letter to me. Order HQ is in London, but I can't tell you where. Just try and send me a letter, please, so I know. I love you.
Yours forever,
Hermione

Blaise pushed of the floor and stood, then came to stand by his friend,
"Well, at least we know where HQ is. Do you think you're owl will be able to find it?" Draco turned to him and nodded. Blaise smiled, then said, "So, will you stop this now? You can't keep doing this, its self-destructive, and its not helping. Come on, you've not eaten for days, let me cook you something." They made their way to the kitchen. Draco slumped in the old armchair that sat in the corner. His eyes were faraway, and he could hear Blaise talking to him but he didn't react. Just sat and stared into the fire. He didn't register when the famous Zabini spaghetti carbonara was set down in front of him. Blaise snapped his fingers in front of Draco's face,
"Hey! Eat up before it gets cold." Reluctantly he began to spoon forkfuls into his mouth. They didn't say a word to each other throughout the entire meal, when they were done Blaise said quite sternly, "Draco, please, talk to me. I know this is hard but you can't walk around here raging. Then sitting here like a fucking zombie. I can't stand seeing you like this." Draco chuckled,
"What am I supposed to do Blaise? We're no closer to finding the Horcruxes. Without them, we've got no hope of destroying Voldemort. I promised her Blaise, I promised her that this world would be ours, and I've let it slip. We should never have left her behind. Now she's back with Potter and Weasley, they'll poison her against us. They'll take her back." Blaise let out an exasperated huff,
"For fuck's sake, do you really think that little of her?! After all we've been through she would not just give up!" Draco sat forward, a grim look on his face, his anger was stirring again,
"Don't you dare accuse me of not thinking about her, she's all I fucking think about! I just know her alright, she's too smart, she'll figure out that they were right all along or something. I couldn't stand it, seeing her with them. Fighting for them. And what if........" He trailed off, hanging his head in defeat. Suddenly he realised what this was all about, he raised from his position by the fire and came to sit in front of the armchair, he put his hand on Draco's thigh, looking up into his eyes,
"What if she stops loving you? What if you lose her?" Draco looked up at him and smiled grimly, Blaise nodded, "I thought as much. You can't fuck me around Malfoy, I've known you too long. I thought I knew you better, this isn't the person I grew up with. You're stronger then this. Show her that, she needs you to stay strong for us. She didn't fall in love with either of them, she fell in love with you. She's smart enough to know that you're the better choice. You're going to write her back and tell her that. Understand?" Draco laughed lowly, leaned down and kissed Blaise lightly,
"I understand you sentimental wanker. Now, you coming upstairs? Or do I have to screw you on this nasty cold stone floor?" Blaise grinned, the spark was back in Draco's eyes, he stood up and pulled the blond up with him, kissing him harshly. Pulling back he grinned,
"Abso-fucking-lutely."


The room was dark, cold. The only light emanated from the few flickering candles set into the walls. There was a huge oval table in the centre. Six men and one woman sat around it, the seven chosen. At the head of the table sat a figure so pale, so gaunt, one may think him a ghost. But, there he sat, flesh and blood, not human, not inhuman, hovering in between. The Dark Lord Voldemort, his red snake eyes ever watchful of his 'trusted' servants. The seven around the table were his inner circle, the ones he trusted most, though his pride and cleverness disallowed him from fully trusting any other living thing, save his skulking python. He began to speak, his voice a hoarse rasp, that raised the hairs on anyones neck,
"My loyal servants," he looked to them in turn, "Severus, Lucius, Carlo, Rodolphus, MacNair, Nott and lastly Bella, my lovely Bella." The seven rose and bowed their heads in reverence, Voldemort waved his arm and they sat. He continued, "Tonight we will begin the second wave. Tonight shall be my greatest triumph so far. I am entrusting you, my most trusted servants, to lead the assault. You shall be the Generals my army. Tonight Hogwarts will burn to the ground. We triumphed when Dumbledore was slain, now let us destroy everything he worked for. The school shall be cleansed, mudbloods, half-bloods, blood traitors, they will perish in fire. Then, then my friends, we can re-build, in my name." The seven clapped politely, they were in awe, this plan, it was genius. Voldemort turned to Lucius and Carlo, "Lucius, Carlo, your sons, they are still in place at the school?" Lucius shook his head,
"I am afraid, they are not my Lord. We received word from one of our spies from the defunct Ministry, that Aurors raided the Heads Rooms at he school on Potter's orders. Draco and Blaise escaped thankfully. I believe that they are residing in the Manor. I can have them summoned here immediately if that is what you wish?" Voldemort waved his hand, in disagreement,
"There is no need, I shall summon them when I call to order my army. They are to have the honorable positions of leading the younger ranks that are already in place at Hogwarts. They shall be instrumental in the destruction of that establishment." Lucius and Carlo nodded, and said their thanks. Lucius privately resolved to write to Draco and remind him of his duty towards his Lord. The boy had been unpredictable of late, leaving school then returning unexplained, sending his wife of to the mental ward. Something had happened to his son whilst he had been incarcerated, Lucius feared that if Draco became uncontrollable, it would not bode well for those that had slighted him. The meeting continued, matters such as tactics and instructions for entering the school. The candle light flickered over the Dark Lord's features, casting a sickly glow on his pale face. His face cracked into an evil smirk, that even had his servants quaking in fear. Pulling his wand from his robes he cast his Dark Mark into the sky, whispering the incantation for calling his Death Eaters to him. Calling them to his service for this most important mission. And the name for this particular mission. The word, ripped from Snape's head through Occlumency, a long used password for the Slytherin dormitories, his snakelike hiss rasping it out,
"Endgame."