Disclaimer; ADULT THEMES AND SOME MILD ADULT LANGUAGE.

Copyright;
Harry Potter and all related characters are the property of JK Rowling
This story alone, is my creation.

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Chapter 10 - Eve Of War.

Men never do evil so completely
and cheerfully as when they do it
from a religious conviction.

Blaise Pascal - 1623-1662

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Harry entered the sitting room at 12 Grimmauld Place, the green flames dying off as he stepped out onto the plush red and gold carpet. Taking his robes off, he hung them on a twisted hand protruding from the wall near the door, the hand closing as he placed the cloak on it's fingers. With a shudder Harry turned to Hermione who had been sat on the sofa.

"I hate that thing, I wish I could have ripped it out when I renovated but there's some sort of sticking curse on it, bloody thing." He stepped over to the high back chair and sat down.

"How'd it go?" Hermione was trying to act nonchalant.

"Well, they weren't too keen but they agreed, if only the two." Harry said picking up the cup of tea Hermione had just poured.

"Thanks Harry." Sipping her tea she thought for a moment. "Do we have to tell Ron?"

"Hermione Granger, how could we not tell him?" His voice was scalding. He had grown up a lot since leaving school. "He'd never forgive us."

"I suppose." She wasn't convinced, she didn't want him to get hurt. Ron may be useless with a wand but he still tried. She looked toward the portrait of Remus, who was sleeping. "Does he still turn?"

"Who?" Harry glanced round to the sleeping Remus. "Yes, last night he howled like there was no tomorrow. I wish he'd bugger off to Hogwarts on a full moon."

"Harry, how could you?" She smiled. "How's Ginny?"

"She wants to go shopping next weekend, with you." Harry said.

Hermione looked uncomfortable, how could see go shopping with her boyfriends sister and sleep with another man behind their backs. There was another reason Hermione didn't want to go, Ginny still hadn't learned how much information was too much. Hermione had almost choked on her chips when Ginny decided to 'let slip' that Harry liked to tie her up and stick feathers in a place that did not need dusting. Standing in front of one of her oldest friends, seeing ripping apart a feather duster wile naked was not a nice image and one she really didn't want right now. She was glad when Harry spoke again and pulled her mind away from that sordid and rather erotic image, she wondered if Draco had a father duster, or two?

"Why are we helping Malfoy? I know he's not wanted anymore but he still a twat."

"Harry, he's not the same person he used to be, and Blaise isn't... ok, maybe Blaise is but they haven't done anything wrong and they need our help."

Harry turned to face the portrait of Remus, sleeping against the frame, the snow capped mountains glistening in the soft moonlight that flooded his picture.

"So, we're all set. I have to get back to the hospital, I'll let Draco know." Hermione turned to leave. She would go to work and after spending to night with Ron, she'd already arranged this, he was taking her to a musical. He'd gone out of his way to find the Theatre Royal and pay for tickets by hand with muggle money, she couldn't say no, it wasn't fair.

"Hermione? Do you know what you're doing?"

"What do you mean?" He couldn't know, how could he? 'Act casual was all she could think.

"I know you've been visiting him, you've been there rather a lot." Harry turned and faced her. "Do you know what you're getting into?"

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It had been three days since his Father had arrived and Hermione had left. Blaise still lay in his bed and the procession of former death eaters that now trampled through his house made him feel both nostalgic and uneasy. His Father had not listened to him when Draco had warned him about people coming and going at all hours. For just over a year there had only been Blaise and him coming and going from the house, Draco chose to miss off the part about all the prostitutes, and if there was suddenly mass movement in and out the house the neighbours would notice. Lucius had picked up on the word 'neighbours' straight away.

His Father had changed, he wasn't the same man Draco knew. His eyes were always glazed over and filled with a faraway look. His voice had become cracked and empty, it used to be strong and full of life. Draco noticed that his father hadn't changed since his arrival, the rags he wore had started to smell. Draco missed the old days, he missed how it was only a month ago. The house belonging to him and Blaise, the stream of women coming for Blaise and Hermione coming for him, now, there hadn't been a single prostitute in weeks and Hermione hadn't shown up either. Draco had taken to spending most of his time in the kitchen or his room with Blaise. This became both uncomfortable and cramped at times. They had gotten used to having a whole four floors and now, now they had one room and one bed. Draco had taken to sleeping on the sofa that lay in one corner of his room. After the incident when he had woken up with Blaise' arm round him and then realised they were both stiff as poles. Draco had jumped out of bed so quickly he had ran straight into the bedside table. It hurt so much he didn't know if it would ever get erect again.

Sat now in the kitchen, Draco tried to keep his mind on his cheerios that he was chasing round with his spoon. The house was quite, he could hear Big Blonde and Jugson snoring in the back room. His Father was pacing in the study, he had hardly slept in three days and had not left the study. Draco was scared. His Father had never been like this before, he seemed on edge or on the edge ready to drop off. What had his father concocted? Didn't his father realise that the Dark Lord was dead and gone? Why was his father so blinded that he couldn't see the world had changed?

Draco heard the post hit the floor in the hallway. Post? He hadn't been expecting anything. Draco dropped his spoon into the bowl as he realised it was Hermione. He tried not run but his feet wouldn't slow down, he didn't know whether it was because it was letter from Hermione or because it was just a way to distract himself. Draco pulled himself to a stop as he saw the figure at the end of the hallway, those rags drifting round the skeletal form and those bony fingers reaching down to pick up the letters that had fallen through the, 'letter box'? His Father would see the letter, he would find out that he had been seeing Granger, his Father would kill him.

Draco watched, his breath caught in his throat as his Father stood up, not straight, his father hadn't stood up straight since the last time Draco saw him before he was arrested. His Father was turning towards him now, Draco went cold, this was it.

"What are these?" Lucius seemed confused.

"They're letters, Father." Draco stepped forward.

Lucius scowled at Draco. "Don't be stupid boy, letters are delivered by owl, not pushed through a hole in the door."

"It's how muggles have them delivered. Its' not a quick but..." 'Shut up Draco'.

"There's one here for you? What muggle writes to you?" Lucius turned the brown envelope over in his hand, his eyes piercing and cold.

Draco collected himself, could he do this? He would have to try, he had never lied to his father before but this was not his father. This was a creature, a creature that had the form of his father but nothing inside was vaguely reminiscent of the man he had been. "It's the only way for Herm...ia to get in touch with me."

"Who is Hermia?" His eyes narrowed on Draco, his mind twisted round this name, he could not think of any pureblood girl called Hermia.

"She was that girl who was in my bed when you arrived." Where the hell had that name come from? Draco didn't want to know, all he cared about was getting his father to believe it. Holding his hand out for the letters he looked at his father. This withered creature was so far removed from the man he grown up with, he knew this man could never be his father again.

Lucius ripped open the letter with his long, sharp fingernails, scattering the envelope across the floor in pieces. Unfolding the parchment he read it.

Draco wanted to run, he couldn't lie now. All Draco could think of was what a stupid bitch Hermione was, who the hell would sent him a letter when his father was in the house?

"Who is Green wings?"

"Me, it's my name." Thank you Hermione, she had used the coda, why hadn't he known she would. "I can't use my real name in case someone sees it."

Draco was not expecting it when his father handed him the letter. He glanced his eyes down the letter, it seemed normal enough, he couldn't see a rhyme but he would have to look later. Turning from his father, Draco walked up the stairs, his father must have been satisfied with his explanation. Running into his room he closed the door, Blaise was sitting on the edge of the bed, the cover pulled round him.

"Am I gonna get any clothes?"

"I'll sort you some out, I'll get some later." Draco ran over to the table and laid the letter out on it. He couldn't see anything special in it, just the same normal stuff.

My Darling Green Wings,

I need to see you,
I miss you much and you must
understand that I yearn for you to be
on top of me, taking me, ready
or not, I know we'll
find one and other to be
the best that there
is, and take one another to midnight
ecstasy. I hope to stay
in your arms laying in
that soft and warm bed
with you deep in me, in that dark room.

Your,

Lady In Red

I know how you hang,
on my last word.

"What the fuck is she on about?" Draco couldn't understand why Granger was sending him such a letter now. Didn't she realise how bad it was here? Why should she, she wasn't here.

"What's wrong, mate?" Blaise had stood up and, holding the sheet round his waist, walked over to Draco and was now looking over his shoulder.

Draco stood up, throwing the letter down the table, it didn't make any sense. "What the hell is she on about, mate? Right now I don't need fucking love letters, I need a way out."

Dropping on the bed Draco thought of the last time she had been there, they had made love passionately. He had made love to her as if she was the only person in the world and now, it would be the last time he would ever have sex again. "I know you hang on my last word... Who the fuck does she think she is?" Kicking the side table Draco stood and looked out of the window across the sea. It was an odd sight, the skies were swarming with seagulls, all of them diving into the cold grey waters. "I'm glad she enjoyed it but she didn't have to write to me and tell me."

Blaise was reading the letter himself, he couldn't understand what Granger was doing. He always thought she was so clever but to do this, to write to his mate while Lucius was in the house. Pulling the sheet tighter around him, the soft cotton cool against his skin. He could remember the last time he had felt something cool against his skin. He was on top of her, Sugar's soft skin brushing against him, her hot breath on his neck. She had such a lovely body and her strong thighs had felt so soft against his ears. His groin was starting to get hot, he could feel the blood rushing to it, he couldn't do anything. He couldn't ask Draco to leave, not now. Looking down at the letter Blaise read over it. Event he letter made his heart beat quicker, he knew that he couldn't stand up now, he didn't want Draco to see the mast that was sticking up. He may be close to Draco but that would be a little too much closeness for either of them.

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It had been four hours since he had come upstairs with the letter. Draco now watched the sea roll as he thought about the letters they had sent to each other, could there be a clue in one of them. "I can't believe Granger would write a letter that made no sense, for Merlin's sake, even if there was a secret message, you think she'd have at least written a clue. Stupid bitch."

"What I don't understand." Blaise had read the letter over and over and he couldn't see anything that would indicate a message. "Why has she written this at the bottom? It fits perfectly with the rest of the letter."

"Oh, I know you hand on my last word, what a fucking horrid, lovey dovey, statement." He knew she was trying to say some thing but what? "You hang on my last word, please. I'm going to be sick" Draco wanted to scream, he was so frustrated. His father had become a empty shell who thought it was right to hurt those around him just as much as those he hated, his best mate had become a prisoner and Granger, the smartest person he knew had become a drivelling idiot. It was then he realised it. "Blaise, read out the last word of every line."

"Wings, you must be ready we'll be there midnight stay in bed room... Merlin's saggy left testicle." Blaise was amazed. "You must be ready, we'll be there midnight, stay in bed room. That's the message."

"She's coming here, at midnight?" Draco was confused.

"Not she, we?" Blaise was just as confused. "Draco, mate. You think that she's got a few people together to help us get out?"

"Who would help us?" Draco knew the answer, no one. Why was he getting so enthusiastic, there was no one coming to save them, not one person in the wizarding world cared about them and only Hermione knew where they were. "There's no one coming, no one would help us, Blaise."

"No." Blaise turned to face Draco, the sheet pulling on his a little. "But there are people who would help her."

This was true, she had lots of friends, and there were lots of people who would help her, but if she told them what she was going to do, would they still help her?

"Draco!" Jugson called from down stairs. "Draco! Get down here."

"I have to go, mate." Draco didn't want to leave the room, he didn't want to leave the room.

"Just be back for midnight." Blaise didn't know if he should believe it or not, but he supposed it would be better to believe in hope than lose himself in despair , which was all he had left in this room. Glancing up he watched Draco leave the room and close the door, locking it behind him. There was another six hours till midnight.

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Lucius stood by the window, his twisted figure picked out by the setting sun. The room was full, at least ten men now stood with evil intent where, only hours ago, two had laid with pleasurable intent. The room smelt of stale sweat and the scent of old clothes clung in the air as Draco walked in.

"Hello Draco." Said a voice beside him.

"Nott." Draco couldn't believe it, Theodore Nott was in his house. Looking round Draco could see a few he knew. Jugson was stood near the cabinet, Big Blonde was by the window with Lucius. Yaxley was sat on the sofa and Nott was stood by the door, Roockwood and Rosier drifted round the room. The rest of the room he did not know and he didn't really want to know. He couldn't understand it, this should be everything he wanted, this should be perfect.

"Welcome everyone." Lucius didn't turn round. "I am glad our Lords call still has power. There is much we must discuss, much I have thought. Though, there is someone here that our Dark Lord would not have in his midst, One here who should not be. Someone here ran from the service of our Lord. Someone here ran screaming and so should not be here." Lucius turned slowly, his wand held tight and the look he held twisted his face into a distortion of pure evil.

For a split second Draco saw his Lucius' eyes flash toward him. But they weren't looking at him, they were looking behind him, behind him toward...

"Theodore Nott."

Draco span round, Nott was staring in disbelief and horror. He was pushing himself up against the wall near the doorway as Lucius stepped toward him, those rags like deaths shroud, his face almost a skull with it's flesh hanging from it. "You ran when your Lord needed you? You ran screaming like a child."

"Mr Malfoy, please, Mr Malfoy.." Nott was punishing himself so hard up against the wall Draco was sure he was going to go through it.

"I am your Lord... Avada Kedavra!"

The curse hit Nott in the head and he fell to the floor. Draco turned slowly from the body of his dead class mate. His father had gone mad.

"You will follow me now, the reign of the New Dark Lord, shall begin tonight."

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Author's Notes:

Well, hope you liked it, getting a little more twisted, ain't it?...

R&R, let me know what you think.

May I thank everyone who had reviewed so far; MatoakaWilde, xx-mrs-Emmett-xx, LUVYDUVY, Dracrashed, PotterEntourage, reader101 & my greatest critic Orbthesela. Thank you all for your continuing support and reviews, keep them coming.

And to Orbthesela, sorry hun, I just had to kill Theodore.

Beta's note:

That's ok, we hate Nott, that's why we keep killing him, although next time it's Blaise's turn, he hasn't done it yet...