Edge Of Gravity

Author Note: Press Pass is the first chapter of Part Two of Edge of Gravity, which is several hours after the last chapter. I was going to start another story for Edge Pt.2 but I decided just to continue using this one. Also, I would like to take the time to thank all my reviewers. You have given me inspiration, and egged me on when I thought I wouldn\'t be able to continue with Edge. Thank you all!

Press Pass

There was a whirlwind of contagious excitement in the room, as warm false smiles were passed among the crowd. The faces were pale and indistinct except for the layers of thick makeup decorating each with a character that was not their own. Each were hungrily munching down on the quickly assembled buffet that was no more than half-stale muffins, a pile of boxed doughnuts, and coffee that was on the thick side. That however didn\'t deter anyone in their frenzy for free food, they shuffled around it like hummingbirds to honeysuckle.

Their voices were full of sharp, biting lopsided compliments that were raising higher the more sugar that wound its way through each of their systems. Even the silent equipment men exchanged glares with each other, snarling under their breaths about some sharp movement the others made to cut them off from the ever-steady flow of thick coffee.

He watched with little interest, while they dropped balls of napkins to the ground where they kicked in a unconscious soccer matches that no ever won. His attention was more on the guards surrounding the room, who were currently eyeing everyone with the little badges around their necks, such as the one he had on at that moment. The five letters were making all seven visible and three blending guards all the more rigid in their stance.

PRESS. The word could invoke fear into the strongest soul, knowing that a single word typed down could leave them in ruins. It was something that he was accustomed too, a lifestyle that left you playing on the edge of criminal and solicitous god. He like the rest of the beautifully painted hyenas knew this fact, and used it every turn for their advantage.

He was uncommonly good at my job, a respected reporter among twitching hellhounds who craved the blood of the descent and lapped at the hands of the hated. Perhaps that was why no one had come to bother him, sitting on his flattened cushion foldout chair. His distance noticeable to everyone, even his cameraman who had elbowed his way through the crowd to snatch three doughnut, which had undoubtedly been touched by a least a dozen of the flawlessly manicured fingers.

But he was not their for a thick cup of coffee this time, nor to wait in nervous anticipation for the Prime Minister to address the crowd with unquestionably the same answers that had been stated nearly a hundred times in the past. He was sitting in his flat cushioned foldout chair patiently to watch for the younger Wizard rubbing the tip of a thin piece of wood between his fingers, eyeing the entire room with a disgusted disdain.

His obvious repulsion stemming from the Muggles who happily disliked everyone around them, while seeing how much food they could devour simply because it was free. A quick smirk crossed his face, before he rose to shuffle over to the younger man. The press pass on his chest glossy new, that he himself had laminated only an hour ago.

“Dennis, you might want to hide that better before the Prime Minister comes out.”

The short young man pushed the tip of his wand deeper into his sleeve before looking up, his face twitching as he shifted uncomfortably in his seat. “Is it…” Dennis looked through his mousy brown bangs, eyeing the group with apprehension. “Are they always like that?”

He lowered his voice, but he doubted that they could hear him above the grinding teeth.

“Unfortunately…yes.”

“I just don\'t see how you do it, Colin.” Colin Creevey smirked down at his little brother, before taking a new seat beside him. Dennis loosened his ramrod straight posture to slouch against the cold metal back of the chair, before looking at Colin. “I\'m about to jump out of my bloody skin.”

Colin bumped his brother\'s shoulder, causing the boy to smile despite himself. “It has its perks.” A small argument grew in octave, causing the plain-clothed guards to propel forward, but remain outside the argument. The two cameramen snarled at each other, one actually stomping his feet before their reporters snapped them back in line. They exchange one last glare but shuffling after their reporters, like obedient puppies.

Colin smirked at the scene, knowing that if the guards had not been so obvious the fight would have continued until the Prime Minister stood on the podium. “Put it away Dennis, the guards are too on edge to allow an actual fight.”

Dennis Creevey blushed slightly, shoving his half-exposed wand back up his sleeve. “Sorry, just been a wee bit jittery lately.” He sighed, lowering his head to rest his chin on his chest. “With the raids…”

“Shh.” Colin hushed his little brother; a wide false smile plastered itself on his mouth as a guard stealthily took a position beside them. “Now, you mustn\'t concern yourself over this so much. The Prime Minister has taken adequate measures, it\'s nonsense that you heard anything when we were coming in.”

Dennis narrowed his eyes before looking up at his brother, who was mouthing \'rookie\' to the guard who swept off, jogging to speak rapidly to a head guard. They buzzed about suddenly, even the plain clothed guards dropping the farce to take up position while another guard jogged from the room. “Why in the hell did you do that?”

Colin lounged back in his seat, smirking at the way the men jogged about the room with a anxious urgency that the group of reporters took no notice too. “You can never be too safe, Dennis.”

Dennis eyed his older brother, noticing the extra guards filling the room. In the open doors, they could both see men jogging about, talking rapidly to each other, and talking on their radios. “Yeah, but how the bollocks am I to relay the message to Shacklebolt now?”

“Owl?” Colin grinned but let it drop quickly seeing the way Dennis deflated beside him. “Don\'t worry Dennis; the guards are probably going to grab you in a couple of minutes.”

“WHAT?” Dennis screamed loud enough to make the entire table of \'vultures\' turn towards them. Their eyes narrowed, several turned their noses up in the air trying to smell the story but turned away eventually to get in as many glowers as they could before the press conference began.

“Relax Den, they are going to bring you in front of Kingsley…” His younger brother loosened slightly, letting out a sigh of relief. “Eventually.”

Colin shrugged, when Dennis turned wide eyed to him, his mouth hanging open in horror. “Eventually?” he whispered, pulling the tip of his wand from his sleeve to rub it in a nervous manner. “You mean…they think…I wouldn\'t…I mean I\'m here to protect…”

“Relax, they are…” Colin fell silent suddenly, as his cameraman bounced up to him. His eyes darting about in their sockets, either from a sugar rush or he had some important news to report. “What is it, Boris?”

The overweight man jiggled in front of them, wires and cords wrapped around him for one purpose or another. His face a natural red and strangled _expression was enough to make you sit on the edge of your seat with nervousness. Oddly bright blonde locks, and burnt brown of his eyes made him seem all the more puffy. “The Prime Minister will be out in a moment.” He voice was deep but annoyed the ear just as much as a high-pitched squeal.

“Set up and I will be moment.” Colin sighed, knowing that he was usually the first to set the trend of being prepared but he wanted to reassure Dennis that he was only joking. “Dennis, I…”

Colin jerked to his feet, looking about the room to find his missing brother. His cheeks drained color, had they come and taken him for questioning. They…He couldn\'t let…The bright pop of camera flashes blinked in the room, blinding him momentarily. Boris grabbed his arm, dragging him towards the middle of the crowd. His camera set, and his index cards of question pressed into his palm. “Dennis,” he mouthed, looking about the room instead of at the Prime Minister who was moving at a turtle pace up to the podium.

“Prime Minister, are the raids on the Ministry believed to be terrorist acts?” a woman reporter barked beside his ear, making him grimace at its unimportance. That question had been asked at least a hundred times, and it was always the same textbook answer.

“We believe that this is the act of a small terrorist group…blah, blah blah.” Colin knew the answers like the back of his hand, rewording the question them didn\'t make the reply different. Even though he knew they were all salivating for the Prime Minister to break down, and reveal all the Ministry\'s secrets. Like a politician would break down in front of reporters.

For the first time in his professional career as a reporter, he didn\'t give a damn about out scooping his fellow hellhounds. Dennis could possibly be taken, and being interrogated by the Ministry guards at this very moment. And pulling his wand was worthless since most of them were Wizards, who had stuck to their assigned position given by the Wizarding Ministry before it fell.

“Ask something,” Boris snarled, hitting his shoulder that caused him to round and stare down his overzealous cameraman.

“Boris…” Colin fell silent, seeing the mousy brown mop of hair through the crowd. Looking at Boris, then at his note cards, then back out through the crowd he decided. He dropped the cards on the seat, and muttered for Boris to keep filming before he pushed through the crowd. “Dennis.”

Dennis stood at the back of the room, bouncing from foot to foot. His eyes were shining brightly, with obvious accomplishment. “Colin, why aren\'t…”

“Where were you?” Colin couldn\'t keep the scolding tone out of his voice, frowning at his little brother. “I was worried.”

Dennis looked at Colin for a full minute before grinning like a idiot. “You know you sound just like Dad.”

“Pillock!” A couple of stray press pass personal frowned at him but quickly turned back to their own business when he frowned back. He finally decided to ignore the slow moving offended persons, to stare down at Dennis. “Now, where were you?”

“Shacklebolt saw me come in; he was only able to get away a few minutes ago.” Dennis grinned, trying to hold back laughter. “I relayed the message a few minutes ago.”

“Oh,” was all that Colin was able to get out, frowning to himself. Britain\'s most accomplished reporter at a lost for words. He turned to the crowd, seeing Boris flounder behind his camera, looking about the room for signs of him.

“You had better get back there.” Dennis sighed, crinkling his nose at watching Boris\'s red face turn crimson.

Colin turned his back on the crowd to look at his little brother, smiling down at the mousy haired young man. “Are you going to stick around for awhile?”

Dennis grimaced once more in Boris\'s direction, before smirking up at his brother. “Of course, I wouldn\'t want to miss your chewing out.”

Colin grimaced at that, knowing that Boris would blabber about this to the entire newsroom. “I\'m just glad I have a contract,” he groaned, not sure if he should try and push back through the crowd. “Oh, bollocks it. You want to go for a late breakfast?”

“What about Boris?” Dennis leaned over to stare at Boris, whose face had gone purple. He was actually looking at the index cards, going a purple-green.

“He can wrap up.” Colin smirked, throwing his arm around his brother. “Besides, this isn\'t exactly breaking news.”

Dennis smiled at Colin, bumping his head against his brother\'s shoulder. “I thought everything was breaking news to your type.”

Colin thought for a second, biting his lip as they walked passed a group of guards who eyed them with nervous energy. “Am I that obvious?“

Dennis shook his head. “Yes, Dennis you always have been..”

Colin punched his younger brother\'s arm, while guards rushed passed them. Their faces were thick with tension that would probably not leave for a couple of days. He felt a slight guilt, looking through his lashes at the man jogging passed them. “Pillock,” he whispered, not sure if he was talking to himself or Dennis.

Either way it made Dennis burst out laughing. “Now, you sound like Mum.”