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Beyond The Morning	By : dictalicence Category: Harry Potter > General > General Views: 1891 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
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Chapter
2

�. . . take me to the p whe where you
go,

where nobody knows if it�s night or day
. . . �

- Oasis, Don�t Look Back In Anger
-

Three
days after. October 2004. The wizarding section of London.

The ministry was in an uproar following the
brutal killing of the Longbottoms�. Even after the announcement that Neville
was to be given a hero�s burial was not enough to placate his grieving family.
After having gone through the initial anguish of bereavement, the Longbottoms
were good and mad and screaming for the blood of whomever did this, effectively
placing Cornelius Fudge in the hot seat.

>

Skeeter, in her usual over-the-top,
more-sensationalistic-lie-and-less-than-factual-truth style of reporting had
been determined to dig up the wounds of the past and displayed them all for all
the wizarding world to see. In her article, she had portrayed Neville out as a
dashing white knight, bravely (and recklessly) charging into the thick of
trouble when the sad reality was that, although he had been a good Auror, much
of his experience had been off the field, not on.

Alas, poor Neville with all his
shortcomings had been loved, hor. Ar. And the outrage of his friendood ood as
testament to further that proof.

Hardship does bring people together where
ease does not, and most long-standing alliances are formed out of the necessity
of the moment rather than out of friendship. Evenly tly though, the members of
the said treaty end up being thrown together enough times for a long period of
time that they thus become inseparable friends and by extension, allies.
wa
was the case of Harry Potter, Ron Weasley, Neville Longbottom and Draco Malfoy.
The latter was only given admittance after much suspicion and distrust, in
particular on Ron�s part, given the romantic attachment he had to Weasley�s
only sister.

�The bloody fool�s been trying to worm his
way out of the problem for nearly a decade, Potter!� Draco Malfoy shouted
angrily, slamming his copy of the Daily Prophet down on the Potters� breakfast
table.

Running his hand through his tousled light
blonde hair, he kicked his chair back before crossing his arms and staring
angrily at the paper before him. �How can you sit there so calmly eating your
bleeding toast as if nothing had happened?� he demanded, standing up and beginning
to pace.

Harry Potter looked up and soberly watched
his friend attempt to wear a hole through the kitchen tiles. �Because there�s
nothing we can do now but wait, Draco.�

�Well I�m bloody sick and tired of waiting.
While the ministry�s sat on their collective arses, those bastards are out
there killing innocent people!�

�Will you shut up and sit down. You�ll only
hurt yourself. You know the ministry�s not quite convinced that this really is
the work of the Dark Lord.�

�Voldemort? Of course it�s not Voldemort,�
Draco snapped. �It�s his frigging death eaters that are doing the deed, not old
snake face. After all,� he continued bitterly, �why do the dirty work yourself
when you can get others to do it for you?�

His handsome face was twisted with emotion,
rage flushing his otherwise pale cheeks a becoming shade of red. �And you, you
don�t seem to care!�

Harry had had enough. Rising so abruptly
that his chair fell over, he slammed his palms on the tabletop in thinly veiled
fury.

�Care? You have no idea how much I dl'>do care! Neville was my friend, too, in
case you have forgotten. We were friends long before you decided to change
sides, long before when you were still daddy�s little darkling!�

As if he�d been slapped, Draco�s fury
evaporated, and it seemed that he�d shrunk as he leaned his back heavily
against the wall. �That was a low blow, Potter,� he said quietly, recovering
some of his earlier composure.

�I�m sorry. Really, I am, but you were
being an impossible prat, Malfoy.� Harry said, his boy�s face troubled.

Six years hadn�t done muchchanchange
Harry�s facial topography. His hair was still an unruly mess of black and he
still needed to wear glasses just to see what was in front of him. Although
Potter had grown taller, leaner and was built with that slight musculature
ideal for being a seeker, essentially he still was the same boy who had
graduated from Hogwarts six years ago.

�I know I haven�t been a saint all my life.
Merlin knows I did my fair share of tormenting Longbottom. But I never would
have done anything like this. Never. Neville didn�t deserve that, Harry. And
Padma,� he added. �The only thing Padma did to get involved was to marry him.
Why did they have to kill her as well?�

an>

�Oh I don�t know. Perhaps to leave no
witnesses?� Both men turned towards the doorway, where the petite almond-eyed
girl finished her sentence with a humourless laugh. �It is standard Death Eater Procedure, after all. Can�t see how you
missed that.�

Both men were quiet. �I�d hate to think how
Parvati is taking all of this in,� Draco finally said, breaking the silence.
�Gods, Ron must be having a devil of a time.�

�I know, Draco. I know.�

�That moron Fudge is going to be the death
of us all,� Cho Potter said, walking into the room. When she first read the
of
of the Longbottom�s deaths, she had burst into tears, and no amount of her
husband�s attempts at soothing her worked. She had retired to an adjacent room
where she mourned her friend quietly, and over time, that grief had worked
itself into a righteous fury. She approached Draco and laid her hand softly on
his shoulder. �How is Ginny?�

The blonde man slid to the floor, folding
his arms over his knees and laying his head on them. �She�s all right.� he took
in a deep breath. �Or at least she says she is. Can�t really tell. Ron�s still
with Parvati. What about you? Are you all right, Cho?�

�I�m fine. Draco, what�s bothering you?�

�Aside from having one of my friends dead?�
When Cho made an attempt to answer, he quickly added �That was rhetorical, by
the way.�

�Fine,� said Cho brusquely. A psychological
profiler/counsellor at St. Mungo�s, she recognised a coping mechanism when she
saw one. Draco was turning back to the brattish ways of his childhood as his
own way of compensating for the blow they all had suffered. �Be like that, but
at leaive ive me the courtesy of answering. What�s on your mind?�

�Hmmm. Nothing much. I�m just thinking of
the fact that my father is throwing a grand masked ball for Halloween. And
unfortunately I have to attend it. I have to spend the entire night, smiling
like I really meant it, acting as if I was happy to bere.ere. Smiling at a
crowd of fucking Death eaters and socialising with the same bastards who killed
Neville,� he raised his head at �Th �That�s what�s bothering me, by the way.�
He added sardonically before getting up and walking out of the room, wandering
into a narrow hallway next to the staircase.

Harry followed Draco, touching his arm.
�She was only trying to help.�

�I know. I�m sorry,� said Draco, standing
still, hanging his head.

�Do you want us to go with you?�

Draco spun around and snapped at him;
�Potter, sometimes that famed Gryffindor stupidity of yours simply astounds me.
Are you really this dense or are you actually making an effort at it? If I
walked in there with you, it would make no difference whether or not I went in
there as a Ministry Auror or as a happy Death Eater and offered Voldemort the
prized calf. Fattened to boot. You would be walking to your death, you daft
git.�

If Harry was stung, he certainly was doing
a damn good job of hiding it behind a goodly amount of forced cheer. �All right
then. You don�t have to get so touchy about it. When�s it to be? Do you need
any back up? Cho could --�

�Cho could stay here and watch Ginny,�
Draco finished coldly. �I don�t want anything happening to her, or to my
child.� He opened the door to a room where a very pregnant Ginny Weasley lay
dozing on the narrow guest bed. The angry lines of his face softened with the
loving yet sad smile directed at the sleeping woman. �Gods, I wonder what that bastard is up to. He knows what I am
now and who I�m with and still he hasn�t made a move.�

Harry�s eyebrows shot clear up to his
hairline. �He does? Then I�m surprised papa Malfoy hasn�t disowned you or cut
you off without a single knut. It�s just not his style.� He stepped back as
Draco shut the door and walked back to the living room.

�Yeah, he�d just as soon as barge in and
shoot a couple of Avada Kedavra�s our
way.� He stopped, noticing Harry�s wince. �Sorry. Anyways, I suspect his
reticence regarding the matter of Virginia and I has a lot to do with Snape.�

�Snape?� Harry made a face. �What does that
greasy git have to do with you?�

�Hey, don�t knock the man Harry,� Draco
warned smoothly. �He isn�t half as bad as most people make him out to be. Well,
maybe to you he is, but then you�re a bloody Gryffindor. He�s never been anything but kind to me, though.�

��Course he is. You�re a Slytherin, Malfoy,� said Harry lightly,
placing emphasis on Draco�s house in retaliation.

�Thank you for that unnecessary reminder of
my oh so glorious school days, but aside from that, Potter, he�s also my
godfather.� Draco tried hard not to laugh at the look of shock on Harry�s face.
�Ginny and I actually went to him initially and he had a talk with my father on
our behalf.�

�Wha - how did that happen?� sputtered
Harry.

�He and my oh so esteemed sire were good
friends. Still are, matter of fact. So I figured if anybody had a chance of
talking some sense into him - and coming out of that talk alive and in one
piece - it was Snape. Nevertheless, it came as a big surprise that my dear old
dad wasn�t out gunning for my blood.�

�Oh that�s rich, Snape�s your psychopathic
father�s best friend. I can see the resemblance now. All the more reason not to
trust him.�

/p>

�Leave it to a Gryff to always look at the
bad side of a Slyth. Before I came to Hogwarts, Snape always used to pop around
for a cuppa. He�d show me how to do some of the simpler potions and other sorts
of magic and Muggle things my father refused to teach me. Until now I still
can�t quite understand how they can be friends when they�re completely opposite
as night is from day.�

Harry harrumphed. �Charming story, but in
the bastard�s immortal words to �Mione, �I fail to see the difference�.�

A silence came over the room and as if he
had suddenly became aware of what he just said, Harry�s face fell and he looked
at the pattern of the living room rug underneath his shoes. Draco sensed his
friend�s unease and told him softly; �Harry, it wasn�t your fault. It wasn�t
anybody�s fault. You just went out of touch, that�s all.�

�I don�t know where she is anymore. I don�t
know how she is or if she�s even alive. Best friends don�t do that.�

�No, they don�t,� agreed Draco heartily.
Harry glared at him.

�Thanks, but you�re not helping,� said
Harry caustically. Draco shrugged his broad shoulders.

�Knowing Granger, she�s probably having the
time of her life holed up somewhere with books and more books,� said Draco
dryly. �Besides, she�s got Krum to keep her company.� He waggled his eyebrows
suggestively.

�Oh gods, that is disgusting. Now I have
that image permanently ingrained in my mind.�

�Glad to be of service. Took your mind off
her for a moment though, didn�t it?�

�You are a sick bastard, Malfoy. Really you
are. But thank you for the effort, no matter how perverse or repellent it may
have been. But what makes you so certain she�s fine right now?� Harry insisted.

�Believe me, Potter. If anyone could make
it through the big bad world with the greatest of ease, it�s Granger. Hey, you
wouldn�t happen to have some Tequila, would you?�

�Drowning our sorrows now, are we?�

�These days Potter, we take anything we can
that drives the pain away,� he clenched and unclenched his right fist, studying
the lines of his palm in a manner reminiscent of Sybill Trelawney. �Even for a
short while. Besides,� he grinned, brightening up. �I need to get myself
royally drunk before I can start planning on what to wear to that wretched
ball.�

**
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Beyond The Morning