Chapter Thirty-Seven: Closer

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A/N: Disclaimer: Some of the quotes in this chapter are pulled straight from book seven, as there is again some overlap between canon and the fic here. Any quotes pulled from the book are not my writing, and not owned by me.

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Sound exploded as soon as their feet touched the cobblestone streets of Hogsmeade village. Hermione gasped, clutching Harry and Ron closer as they tried to discern where the sound was coming from, and what exactly it was.

Death Eaters burst from the doors of the nearest buildings, vicious looks of triumph present on their cruel faces.

"It was an alarm, they knew we were coming, they had to have been warned," Hermione hissed to the two of them, her voice masked from the swarming Death Eaters by the screams still sounding through the streets.

Ron swore.

The Death Eaters couldn't see them, but that was a small relief considering it was only a matter of time before they stumbled upon the trio with how many there were present, and with the quickly decreasing temperature and increased feeling of dread creeping its way through her, Hermione could only assume they had dementors ready to search them out.

They were trapped.

~.~.~

"It is time."

Bellatrix was positioned halfway up the staircase inside the entrance of Malfoy Manor, Draco's parents at her side and just a step below. Lucius looked out upon those gathered, his usual condescending sneer in place. His mother stood impassive next to his father, staring but not really seeing the crowd in front of them. Bellatrix stood, imposing as always, fitted black robes swaying around her where she stood, as though they too were anticipating the coming fight as she surveyed the crowd like they were her subjects. Her voice, made magically louder to carry over the hundreds of supporters that gathered at the manor, silenced the buzzing chatter that had been floating amongst the gathered since the Dark Lord's followers had begun arriving.

"You have been called here to serve. The time has come for you to fight for your Lord, to fight for our rightful place, free of filth."

Her wide eyes glittered with excitement as she called out to the crowd of people here to fight. They filled the entryway, the nearest rooms, and spilled out of the front door onto the manor grounds beyond. Draco stood further back against a wall, tucked into the shadows afforded him by the imposing marble staircase beside where he leaned. His eyes scanned across those gathered, those so prepared to fight. He had to hold in a snort as he took in those who mingled among the wizards - werewolves, vampires, all manner of dark creatures, stood at attention before him. Happy with the lies the Dark Lord had fed them, of a world where they didn't have to hide their darker desires. Any currently here were stupid enough to believe that they wouldn't be considered filth along with the muggleborns, too blinded by their sadism to realize that once the Dark Lord won, they would be seen with as much derision and condescension as any who wasn't a pureblood, loyal witch or wizard. They would fall and feel his wrath just as surely as those they were prepared to fight against.

Draco's stomach turned with disgust as he turned his attention back to his aunt. She was captivating, terrifying, glowing with a manic devotion that told any who looked upon her that she would burn the world down for her master. Draco knew the look well enough for fear to begin creeping down his spine as he thought of all the people who would have to face her and likely not come out of it alive. You'd think it was Christmas morning rather than the calm before the storm that would unleash all manners of hell upon them and those they were fighting, with the look of pure joy currently on her face.

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