SNEAK PEEK! Hey everyone, here's a little preview of the sequel to Stylistic Harmony. I would be really grateful if you would let me know what you think. AND also whether anyone has any suggestions for a good title? I'm all out of inspiration for that one! lol! much love sarah x

The war had raged for years now, she had lost count of how long it had been. Time was obsolete to her, everyday was a struggle to keep going. Neither side had advanced, neither had the upper hand. It was an endless string of fruitless battles, where the casualties mounted every time. The dead were never forgotten, but in a way never remembered. They became just another expendable asset. There wasn't time to mourn. There was to much to do, Harry and Ron still had not found the final Horcrux, that one final piece of Voldemort's soul. Harry had become a hero, as has been predicted, but as a man, he had hardened, the loss of Ginny to the enemy had destroyed him and he had built an icy wall around himself that no-one could penetrate. He had sworn vengeance on the one that had stolen her from him, Blaise Zabini, but he had disappeared, for going on two years now. Rumour had it that he had seconded himself and Ginny to the mountains in Italy, his homeland, but searches had been conducted and nothing was found. Hermione hadn't heard from him since that night at Hogwarts. Just another person who had abandoned her. She was surprised herself that she was still standing, but her strength had won out, her will to live. Not that you could call her life living. Everyday she locked herself away with her books, researching, scouring every inch of what seemed like every book ever written to find that last clue, the one that would lead them to the Horcrux and the conclusion of this bloody war. Not even Ron, her husband, could get through to her, not that she thought of him that way at all. A marriage of convenience. After that night at Hogwarts Harry had given her a choice, stay and be loyal, marry Ron, pop out a couple of mini wizards and live her life with them, or leave and get an Avada Kedevra in the back. She chose the former, though the mini wizards were not going to happen. She couldn't stand having Ron touch her, every thing about him made her sick to the stomach. She was trapped by a loveless marriage, with no where else to go. Draco was dead, she had nothing.

"RED!" He yelled up the stairs,

"WHAT?!" Came the reply, he huffed,

"CHRIST WOMAN, COME THE FUCK ON! WE'RE GOING TO LATE!" Blaise Zabini, six years out of school, as handsome as ever, stood in the hall of a vast mansion home, waiting for his wife to finish doing her hair or whatever the fuck it was she was doing. He drew out a cigarette from his pocket and bought it to his lips, flaring it up immediately with a flick of his finger. He dragged the smoke into his lungs, hoping to ease the stress of the fact that the Dark Lord was going to have his balls if they didn't get going sooner or later. After all it was them that had requested the meeting, and to keep him waiting, well, was the ultimate insult. A movement at the top of the stairs drew his gaze, and there she was, his beautiful wife. Formerly the daughter of a blood traitor, the girlfriend of a hero, now was the wife of one of the most wanted men in the country, the Dark Lord's right hand man, or one of them anyway. No matter how annoyed he was at her, he couldn't hurry her along now, the sight of her still made his breath hitch in his throat. She descended the grand staircase and sauntered into his waiting arms, where he bent his head and too her lips in a searing kiss. The length of time she had been with him did nothing to diminish the fact that he could still kindle the fire that raged within her, he was her everything and she would not for one second think of having it any other way. He drew back and whispered huskily,

"As much as I'd like to ravish you right here my darling, we have to go. Mustn't keep the Dark Lord waiting, oh no." She tilted her head back towards the staircase,

"He not coming then?" Blaise shook his head, and said nothing more. Their host wasn't exactly a hot topic of conversation, Blaise didn't like to talk about him or talk to him even. Any conversation that was had usually ended in a slanging match and he really didn't have the energy for that this morning. He held out his arm for Ginny, who took it willingly and they both apparated out to meet their Lord. Landing with practiced elegance in the courtyard of the centuries old castle that was their new Headquarters, the Riddle house had been destroyed in a battle past. The castle was magnificent, situated in some ancient place in the heart of the Romanian countryside, it was the relic of a time past, the home of some centuries old warlord. Now it was seeing another battle, one of greater magnitude, of more import. Blaise looked around him, scurrying towards them was Wormtail, still alive, unfortunately, but still as pathetic as ever. He bowed low, his nose almost banging the floor, then straightened, not meeting Blaise's gaze though, the rat was too afraid of him to have the audacity,

"Mister Zabini, Madame, welcome back. The Dark Lord is awaiting you in the West library." The only drawback to the castle was that it was like a fucking maze, it was West this and East that, the North bloody tower. He needed a fucking map every time he came here. They walked in the vague right direction, before Wormtail piped up again, "He was expecting three of you." Blaise grimaced, and said,

"Yeah well, he's just going to have to deal with two of us." Wormtail said nothing more, from what he knew of Zabini's host, was that the man did things on his terms or not at all, summoning him wasn't worth shit anymore. Thankfully the rat led them to the correct door, knocking three times before leaving them, and scuttling off into the darkness. The door creaked open and Blaise and Ginny stepped through it into the vast library. The Dark Lord emerged from the shadows, looking less human then ever, the years of constant battles had worn him and his remaining humanity was dwindling by the day. However, he still held a commanding presence. Blaise inclined his head in a sort of bow, and Ginny bent her leg and curtseyed gracefully. Voldemort's features cracked an admiring smile,

"My dear Ginny, how beautiful you look, and Blaise, it has been too long, you look well," He looked past them, as if expecting someone else to appear, then when they didn't, he frowned, "I take it you are here without..."

"He didn't feel it necessary for him to accompany us," Blaise cut him off before he could finish, risky, but he couldn't give a fuck about being rude. Voldemort, however seemed unfazed by the interruption,

"Ah well, I hear you have some news for me?" He gestured for them to take a seat on the sofa, before seating himself on the armchair by the flickering firelight, Blaise lent forward and said,

"We have a lead. But its tricky, it'll take us back to London. With the Ministry rebuilt, it'll be harder for us to slip by unnoticed. I wasn't sure whether you would want us to proceed, considering the risks, and..." he trailed off, Ginny took his hand, then spoke herself,

"What he means is, our illustrious host has voiced certain concerns about the validity of the information, and he's not sure whether its worth it." Apparently that was the wrong thing to say, for the Dark Lord rose and drew himself to his full height,

"I am tiring of his insubordination! It has gone on long enough! I tolerated it for this long because of the importance that he has to my cause, but no more! You can tell him that if he is not standing in front of me first thing tomorrow morning I will have his head. Do I make myself clear?!" Blaise and Ginny nodded, Voldemort sat again, his demeanor shifting faster then lightning,

"Good, now, my dear friends, you shall go to London. Stay undercover, unseen. Carry out my orders, and take back what is mine. Keep it safe, and bring it to me." He stood up again, then left them sitting there. Blaise stood up and paced,

"Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck." His mind was on two things, how the fuck they were going to steal something from right under Potter's nose and what the fuck was going to happen when they got home and told him what Voldemort had ordered. Ginny apparently had the same thing in mind, for she said,

"He is not going to like this." Blaise looked at her and smiled darkly, taking her hand they apparated out to face a dragons wrath.