Do You Still Believe?

The times we've lost can be repaired
So be prepared
The moments we burned into our minds
Yeah we'll be fine
-- A Skylit Drive - City on the Edge of Forever
-o0o-

Considering the mechanics of Apparation, Draco was hardly expecting to actually find himself standing in a damp graveyard, surrounded by the ghostly echoes of witches and wizards long dead. A dark shape huddled nearby, looking for all the world like a lost child, or a broken puppet whose strings had been cut.

"Potter?" he ventured, stepping forward. The other man spun around, grief burning in his eyes and his wand drawn.

"Bad form to sneak up behind an Auror, Malfoy," Potter said tonelessly, but the fierce light in his eyes didn't fade. "What the hell are you doing here?"

Draco raised his hands, proving that his wand wasn't within reach. Having startled Potter in the midst of what was likely a very private, personal moment, he doubted that being unarmed would keep him from being hexed, if Potter was pushed enough, but he resolved not to push more than he had to. "I was... worried about you," he offered, realising it was true as he said it. Potter's eyes narrowed.

"Pull the other one," he hissed dangerously. Draco lifted his chin up a notch.

"I'm telling the truth. You have a reputation for being on time, and it's now nearly eleven o clock, and you weren't in. No one would tell me where you were, but they revealed what day it was, and that you were always gone on this day." He closed his eyes, mustering the strength to push out his next words. "I didn't realise," he said. "It must be hard, coming here alone. We've never been friends," he opened his eyes, noting that the wand had been lowered, but Potter quaked with an effort to keep still. Whether he was trying to keep from fleeing, or attack, Draco didn't know, but he was aware that this was a crucial step in their partnership, as well as his plan to restore the Malfoy name to it's untarnished place in society. He soldiered on, pushing his personal feelings about such a Gryffindorish movement to the back of his mind, where they could be dealt with later. When in Rome, do as the Romans do went the old saying, and it held true. When dealing with Gryffindors, do as they do.

"We've never been friends," he repeated. "But we're partners now. And we share something beyond a fantastic dislike for one another." He walked forward slowly, and knelt beside the grave, reading over the words. "We've lost our friends." His fingers reached out on their own, trailing over the engraved statements before him. "Crabbe - in the Fiend Fyre - and Goyle... it was stupid. He fell off his broom while they were... fleeing the Dark- ... fleeing Vol...Voldemort." The name took an embarrassing amount of effort to push past his lips; even eight years later, he was petrified of the Dark Lord, and the things he'd done and seen.

Potter knelt slowly beside him, head bowed. "I didn't know," he said quietly, and they remained there for another hour, not moving or speaking, lost in their own private thoughts.

-o0o-

"I have been informed that you are a cubicle tyrant." Malfoy said amiably, following Harry away from the cemetary, and towards the pub he visited each year after the graveyard visit.

"Excuse me?" He paused for a moment, slightly stunned by both the tone of voice and arch words. Malfoy waggled a finger at him.

"You heard me. Tyrant. Of the cubicles. I refuse to work with dead people leering over me. So I made some changes." His tone was still easy and light, but Harry heard the challenge in them. Malfoy made like he was trying to be friends, but underneath it, his opinion of Harry was still desparingly low. For some reason, that was comforting. At least something had stayed the same; there was still something familiar to hold onto in the madness that his life had become over the last eight years. Feeling decidedly nonconfrontational, Harry meekly shrugged.

"Fine," he said simply, and ducked through the doorway to the pub.


-o0o-
Sorry these are so short. ;; Sometimes I get to writing and it flows like water over a cliff, and then other times, it flows like honey running uphill. This is one of the honey moments. The story refuses to advance any quicker. I'm doing my best.

Re: Tom Felton: He's written several songs, to my knowledge. I found four of them on Youtube (or rather, three, and a medley) and eleven on itunes. I'm always the last person to know anything, it seems. ;; But he does have a scrumptious accent. I keep picturing him in the first two movies, when I hear him singing with his deep voice and adorable accent. It's such a funny contradiction. I'm now waiting (im)patiently for my taxes to come in so I can buy the songs off itunes. *poor*

alientheet: Of course not. x3 He's on a mission. Ee, thank you for reviewing.

thrnbrooke: you're so amazing. i'm playing favourites here, definitely, but you've always been one of my favourite reviewers. Even after two/three years I'm still a fan of your reviews. I'm glad you're still around, even if I left for a while. It just wouldn't be the same without you reviewing for another chapter every time I update. Harry gets some of his own back, about the cubicle, even if it does frustrate him that he can't get rid of Draco.

bloodsoakedninja: You are quickly becoming one of my favourite reviewers. I love hearing from you.

SP777: Your wish is my command, darling. An epic screaming fit it shall be. x3 I'm glad you're enjoying it! More than I could possibly say. But probably not as much as I'm enjoying writing it~

Sisely: Bit of a story, there. XD My friend told me he had a Twitter, so I looked it up. People mentioned someone named Jade, and I wanted to know who that was, so I went to his Wikipedia page, and at the bottom, it has a link to his Youtube account, where he's uploaded some of his songs. He's also got two 'albums' on itunes.