Just Like Heaven

Chapter Two:

'Hate and War'

A/N: Okay, so it's been years since I've touched this story and I am trying my hardest to do it justice and pick it up where it left off! Also, I couldn't find a song to really match...and I promise an update within 24 hours and a much better chapter! Enjoy and please review! :)

Hate and War

Hate and war - the only things we got today

An' if I close my eyes

They will not go away

You have to deal with it

It is the currency

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"It's our second day back and he already gives us two assignments? This is madness!" Ron exclaimed, slamming his Potions texts down on the library table. He received hushes and glares from the nearby working students.

The Trio had proceeded to the library during their free period just after lunch, even Ron knew that if he didn't stay on top of his homework this year he might as well just drop out as it is. Begrudgingly he got to work beside Hermione who was happily taking notes and studying from her Arithmancy text, she didn't have Potions this year, much to the boys' dismay.

"Honestly, 'Mione, you couldn't just look this over to see-" Ron was immediately met with her rolling eyes.

"I have my own homework to do, Ronald,"

Harry smirked. Although he always prefered to be alone these days, it was only with these two that he could still feel a glimmer of happiness or a cinch of hope and reason. His Potion assignments were the furthest thing from his mind. It was announced yesterday that Godric's Hallow was on a type of quarantine; Death Eaters were making it their nest and there had been one of the largest casualties to date. As many times as Dumbledore urged Harry to focus on his studies and not to worry, he had to worry. Even with Remus reposted as the Dark Arts Professor also continuously reminding him he was safe at Hogwarts he knew two things; that it wasn't true and his safety wasn't what was important to him anymore. Members of The Order were being injured daily it seemed, Muggles were being slain at the hands of rogue Death Eaters. Even the Muggle world was starting to notice something wasn't right. Harry had the ability to put an end to it, he just hadn't quite figured out how.

"Don't you have some sort of special class with Trelawney today, mate?" Ron asked Harry suddenly.

"Nah, we're not starting till next week. And please, don't remind me, all I need now is another class," Harry groaned.

Hermione huffed, "It's not just another class, Harry! She's teaching you the art of wandless magic! One day it could save your life," she added.

Now it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes, "It's Wandless Healing," he corrected her before returning down to his first of the dreaded Potions assignment.

Not even ten minutes had passed of actual work amongst the three of them when they heard a commotion erupt from the hallway. There was all sorts of bickering and yelling back and forth and upon hearing a name being mentioned in a slur of remarks, Harry didn't know why but he immediately bolted from his seat towards the corridor. Ron and Hermione along with other curious, confused students were not far behind.

Harry's heart dropped as soon as he saw the scene. Crabbe, Goyle and Theodore Nott all stood hovering over a slouched Malfoy who was swearing beneath his breath. The blonde spat onto the floor at Nott's feet, blood mixed with saliva, as he slowly rose to stand. Pansy Parkinson stood not far from the scene, arms crossed with a smug smirk on her face. "You're a pathetic traitor, Malfoy!" Goyle venomously barked. Harry stood frozen for a moment, confused. It wasn't news that Malfoy was no longer the 'Slytherin Prince' he had once been but he didn't know he had fallen this far from grace.

"No, you are the traitor, Goyle. And you, Crabbe, and Nott and Pansy! You are all so fucking blind, sodding brainwashed is what you are! By a Half-Breed nonetheless!" he growled back, his fists were clenched at his sides as visibly shook with anger, there was an obvious bruise popping up beneath his right eye that was slowly swelling itself shut.

The other Slytherins weren't too pleased with his response. Crabbe mumbled an incoherent insult to him before bringing his fist full force into Malfoy's upper stomach. The blonde was knocked back to the wall behind himself and slumped onto the floor. You would think it would have stopped, but Malfoy lolled his head upwards with a weary smirk and opened his mouth to no doubt make another snide remark.

Harry couldn't watch anymore. For some reason he felt obliged, he couldn't quite place what pushed him to stand between the Slytherin's. He now found himself facing four red-faced junior Death Eaters. "Got Potter fighting for you now?" Goyle chortled.

"Sod off, Scarhead," Malfoy snapped with the little energy he had left. Harry just glanced over his shoulder quickly before returning to the other Slytherin's.

"Unless you four want to duel with me, I would recommend leaving. Now," Harry had withdrawn his wand and made it blatantly clear he was ready to use it, having it already pointed at Nott's chest.

The four Slytherins glanced waywardly at the wand before scuffing. "You're lucky you have that thing on you, Potter. Next time you won't be so lucky," Nott led the group away.

Harry watched until they rounded the corner at the end of the Hall and then turned around to Malfoy who was unsuccessfully attempting to stand on his own. There was a small cut beneath his eye where the swelling was continuing, a small line of blood trickling out of the side of his pursed lips. Harry automatically reached out to touch the blonde's eye, he scowled and turned his head.

"I said fuck off," he hissed.

"Malfoy, what was that all about?" Harry was down to his classmates level now, crouching before him with a mix of concern and confusion writ in his eyes.

Draco was equally confused. Ever since their conversation in London they had been on better terms than ever before, but that wasn't saying much. They still held a discontent for the others presence. Why was he here, seemingly caring? Why did he even butt in where he certainly didn't belong? Just like he had in Diagon Alley.

"Honestly, Potter, not everything is your business," Malfoy snarled, he finally spotted his salvation hurrying down the corridor, cloak billowing behind him. It was Blaise Zabini, the only ally he had left in Slytherin.

Without being able to even justify the action to himself, Harry suddenly reached his hand forward and this time actually touched the cut below Draco's eye without the immediate recoil. Warmth erupted from his fingertips and sent tingling shivers throw Draco's body.

"What in Merlin's name do you think you are doing, Potter! Get your filthy half-blood hands off me!" Malfoy snapped, Blaise at his side now helping him to stand. "Please, stay the fuck away from me," he added as his house mate helped him limply down the hall towards the dungeons.

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Harry was distracted the rest of the day. He had deducted what the warmth in his hand upon touching Malfoy was; that Healing magic Dumbledore wanted him to hone. But the question was why did he have the unshakeable urge to use it on Malfoy of all people? Why did he feel the need to step in and defend him...twice?

It was all tangled in the brunette's head. He knew that the Slytherin had never been and didn't seem likely to ever be within the ranks of Death Eaters, but why the sudden turn against him? Why did all the fellow Slytherins despise him now that his Father was imprisoned? Did he play a part in his own Father's imprisonment? Surely, not. Or may. He still acted like the prat they all knew but there was never that familiar venom in every word and the consistant snarks had slowed down to a bare minimum. Maybe the War wasn't as black and white as Harry had always been led to believe it was.

"Harry, you have to eat something," Hermione interuptted his line of thoughts. Although they initially questioned his motives of the earlier scene, when they saw he honestly had no answer to give them his friends had left it at that thankfully.

"I'm not really hungry, 'Mione," he mumbled.

Ron, between forkfuls, asked, "Is it about that Malfoy thing? Just forget about the ferret,"

But Harry couldn't. Malfoy had skipped the final class which they had together, Advanced Defence Against the Dark Arts, and hadn't shown up to dinner either that night. A quick glance across at the Slytherin Table confirmed that Blaise Zabini was there, though, conversing with some other Seventh Years.

"It's not. I just can't stop thinking about that Potions assignment...after what happened I couldn't get any of it done," he lied and gathered his shoulder bag from underneath the table, "I'm gonna go up to the library while I still can before curfew, get as much work done as I can," without waiting for a response, he stood and turned on his heel to leave the Great Hall.

With all the bustle of students, especially still excited First Years, Harry couldn't concentrate. He couldn't find that peace and quiet in his head he longed for. It wasn't just Malfoy or the recent news of Godric's Hallow but something else that was irking him he couldn't quite place. On his way into the Entrance Hall, a few of the younger students still not used to The-Boy-Who-Lived presence whispered as he walked by. He thought he'd get used to it, or at least they would, but a new batch of students meant a new batch of eyes to stare at him.

He walked on past and made his way for the stairs. He took a long flight up and passed the floor the library was on and continued until there weren't anymore stairs left to take. With a mind ful of nothing he wasn't going to get any work done on his Potions assignment this much he knew. Harry had no plans on where to go but he found himself on top of the Astronomy Tower, peering over the edge that overlooked the Black Lake bathed in the moonlight hanging fresh overhead. He dropped his shoulder bag to the floor and leaned with both elbows propped on the stone ledge, pondering.

"Wish you were here, Sirius," Harry thought aloud to himself, "You'd help sort this out, I know you would. You would make sense of Malfoy for me and you'd force Dumbledore to see that I'm not a child who should be studying and doing useless assignments. I should be out there with The Order, doing what I can to help find Voldemort, I know you'd at least understand that," he sighed and picked at a loss piece of gravel on the edge of the stone.

"I could tell you where Riddle is, but it will not do you much good, Potter,"

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Draco sat with his legs dangled over the edge of his four poster bed, the black and dark green sheets tucked perfectly in their place as he did every morning upon waking. Blaise Zabini was sitting cross-legged ontop of his pillow, his tanned fingers flipping through the pages of his Potions text.

"Blaise, I am perfectly fine to be on my own, you know," Draco drawled with a half-smirk at his only friend.

Blaise shrugged, barely looking up from his text, "I know. Just thought you could do with some company after what happened," he paused in his work to look Draco seriously in the eyes, "You should really talk to that prat of a Headmaster to arrange a different living arrangement. I wouldn't trust these boys in my sleep,"

"What sleep?" Draco returned and sighed, "I place a Protection Charm every night, you know that,"

"Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson may be thick as rocks but Nott will figure out how to disarm it one of these nights...soon," he warned before returning back to his work, he knew there was no convincing Draco in his ways especially if it meant asking the Headmaster for help.

"So be it, I will be waiting for him when he does,"

"Them, Draco, them. They aren't stupid enough to ever go at you alone, they know individually they're no match but together..." Blaise couldn't concentrate, he had a real concern for his housemate that worsened with how flippant Draco acted towards his safety. "They really have it in for you, Draco. Who knows what exaggerations or lies they're parents and Riddle are feeding them about you and your family. I'm surprised what happened today only happened once, and you're lucky Po-"

"Do NOT even say it, Zabini," Draco hissed. He was unwilling to admit any kind of appreciation for Harry having stepped in. It made him look so weak, so vulnerable, he hated it. "Besides, I think it is you that has to worry about safety more than myself. Your alliance to a traitor of the madman will do you in soon enough,"

Blaise chuckled, "Everybody has known since First Year my family is neither here nor there, we praise Pureblood breeding but do not stand behind useless murdering though we won't fight against it, either. It is a blessing to have never have had a side picked for me," he admitted, suddenly looking across the room at the heavy, orante clock hanging overhead the doorway leading to the Common Room. He swung his legs off the bed and sprang to stand.

"Feeling alright enough for dinner, then? You seen right back to your pompous self," he smirked.

Draco shook his head, the little bit of platinum fringe he had falling from behind his pointy ears, "No, you go on, I have a few things I need to tend to,"

"Suit yourself," Blaise shrugged and before he left the room he peered over his shoulder back at his friend, "Be careful," he added and left.

He had already finished all the assignments given in the first two days back, there was really nothing for him to do. Sometimes he just needed to be alone, away from it all to think. There was still so much uncertainty left to his discovery at the beginning of the summer holidays. Just after his Father was imprisoned, something totally unexpected happened to Draco and he couldn't control it. His Mother was there when it happened, she told him a truth that shattered his world, his outlook on his family, what he had been raised to believe. Though he could ignore it and the feelings that came along with it, he knew he was headed towards an inevitable end soon, or a strange new beginning he wasn't quite pleased to embark on. Other than his parents, Severus was the only other person aware of his condition...of what he was...but Draco wasn't ready to talk to him, yet, as the Potion's Professor offered months prior. He wasn't ready to face it, or learn of the consequences of himself that were to come. He wasn't ready to die.

Draco found himself walking without thinking, his arms crossed behind his back as he fingered the Malfoy signet ring. As much as he loathed his Father and despised his Mother's secrecy and recent actions, he was still a Malfoy. Still stood for the Pureblood way of life, as hypocritical as that was.

He may not have his Father's hand pushing his back all the time, or his Mother constantly Owl Posting gifts and letters daily or all the sons and daughters of Death Eaters kneeling at his feet, but he was still Draco and most importantly he was still a Malfoy. His bloodline may have been a lie, but there were still truths in it he could live by. There was still his arrogance, his self-righteous attitude, his feeling...no his knowledge that he was better than all those around him. It would be a fight for him to give all of that up, just because of what had occured in the recent months did not mean he was a different person. Though, Draco feared, he was growing up and out of certain things he wished he could hold onto.

The narrow staircase that climbed its way up the Astronomy Tower had a cool chill to them, it felt like he was back in the dungeons. He had left the Slytherin Common Room when it was light and the sky was now darkened as he peered out one of the windows he passed by. The days were getting shorter, that meant his time was running out. Nine months left and counting.

It was still dinner time and afterwards most students either retired to the library or Common Room so he had expected to be alone up in the reaches of the Tower. At last, he heard a voice talking to themselves as he neared the landing. For some reason, he couldn't help but smirk at the sound of its familiarity. Draco immediately straightened his posture, he stopped and listened intently.

"You would make sense of Malfoy," What did he mean by that? Draco thought, what was there to make sense of? He was flattered the Golden Boy couldn't seem to think of much else but was still lost as to what he was on about. "...doing what I can to help find Voldemort," Draco's attention perked at this. He may not be a cheerleader for the Muggle born but he certainly would do what he could to thwart that bastard of a Half-Breed.

"I could tell you where Riddle is, but it will not do you much good, Potter," Draco stepped out onto the landing now, arms crossed at his chest now as he raised a thin eyebrow at Harry who jumped at the sound of his voice.

Harry stood upright and fixed his glasses upon his nose, stumbling ever so slightly as he did. Always such a baffoon, Draco thought bemusedly to himself. "Eavesdropping on me now, Malfoy?" Harry asked and then blushed in realization, "How, er, much did you hear?" he mumbled.

The pure joy Draco felt at the embarassment Harry felt was unexplainable, but it rushed through him like lurid fire. He even felt, Merlin forbid, giddy, at the sight of the raven-haired boy blushing before him. "Enough," he responded, deepening the rouge of the Gryffindor's cheeks. Draco felt even more satisfaction, inexplicably.

Draco could see that Harry was mentally squirming, uncomfortably, and stood with an unwavering stare. He couldn't give this up if he tried, it was too satisfying. He waited patiently for the boy to speak again, his words were shakey. "Er, what's this about Voldemort? I thought you weren't a Death Eater, how in the world would you know where he is? And why would you be willing to help me?" Harry asked, he leaned his back against the ledge now of the Astronomy Tower, the distant flap of owl's wings not too far in the distance was their only accompanyment.

"His name is Tom Riddle, not Voldemort. You are just giving him the power he wants by using it. It is also not you I want to help, be sure not to confuse that ever again, Potter," Draco said sternly, "I have nothing but ill contempt for that...thing who calls himself a Wizard and if you are balmy enough to attempt in anyway to bring him to harm, I will do what I can to push you and all the silly little Order in the right direction," he finally took his intense gaze off the boy, peering out over the brunette's shoulder to the dark sky and the Black Lake that lay beneath it. "Like I said, even if I told you, it will not do you or the Order much good,"

"Why not? And how the hell do you know about the Order?" Harry questioned, a puzzled look strewn across his face.

Draco chuckled darkly, "Are you that much of a fool, Potter? You really think that out of hundreds of Death Eater's not a single one has ever heard word of a silly little secret order? They have known of it for decades. The only trouble has been discovering its Secret Keeper, the Order's hideout. Just the same complications Dumbledore and his army have had with locating Riddle," he stated this all like it was common sense, news to Harry and most certainly news to the Order this would be. Harry felt uncomfortable now, he knew who the Secret Keeper was, he knew where the Order held themselves, why wasn't Malfoy asking him?

"Malfoy, if you think I'm bonkers enough to buy anything you tell me-"

"Like I said, I hate that rat bastard, Potter. He is a filthy Half-Breed that does not deserve the air he breathes. If you or any Order member can steal that breath from him once again, I would be indebted for what he has made of my family and the Purebloods of our race," Draco spoke with venom, his distaste was clearly shown.

"I-I'm a Half-Blood," Harry stated.

Draco rolled his eyes, "Harry Potter's a half-blood?! Merlin, why did nobody inform me?" he sarcastically said, "Do you really think I am that thick? Honestly. There is a difference between a Half-Blood who is who he is and a Half-Blood who pretends to be a Pureblood. Who parades around doing a song and dance about lineage that he has no right to do. He may be an heir of Slytherin but that does not mean his blood is not thoroughly tainted,"

Harry looked down at his feet now, pondering all what he was receiving, "Wait...why would telling us where he is not do us any good?"

"Are they not training you to think better than that, Potter?"

The boy blushed again, "They're not training me at all," he admitted. This came as a shock to Malfoy, he paused only for a moment before collecting himself although all he could think is how extremely idiotic it was that they weren't drilling The-Boy-Who-Lived daily with the brutal training he would need to survive this War. Maybe it wasn't just Draco whose time was running out, counting down. What was Dumbledore and the Order playing at, were they really going to just use Potter as bait in the end?

"The wards around where Riddle is disallows anybody without a Dark Mark to enter or leave. Other than Dumbledore himself there is not a Wizard or Witch powerful enough, or at least not in allegiance with the Order, that could disarm their wards. Riddle himself never leaves, the higher ranking Death Eaters rarely come and go," Draco explained.

Harry was quiet as he listened, an immediate thought entered his head. He knew somebody who was brandished with a Dark Mark that could easily enter...but then wouldn't he have informed Dumbledore of this location already? "If somebody entered with the Dark Mark, would it be easier to disarm the wards from the inside?" Harry asked slowly, his mind suddenly racing with ideas. He suddenly felt useful with this new found information.

Draco smirked, "There we go, Potter, now you are thinking like a soldier,"

Harry frowned in response, shaking his head ever so slightly, that's not what he wanted to hear in the slightest. "Tell me, Malfoy. Tell me where he is,"

"I will. If only you tell me why," Draco said, he was standing beside Harry now, looking past him and over down at the Black Lake. Every once and awhile there would be a movement of the water, a small splash, a Grindylow or Merperson not far below the surface. "Why do you want to know, why do you want to help, when all that waits for you is death?"

"I need to try," Harry didn't wait to answer, "I need to try to help. I need to try to stop somebody else from dying and if that means that I snuff out...I don't care, my life is worthless compared to..." he trailed off, his eyes suddenly looked burdened, sad and old all at once. Draco found himself frowning, being torn at the look behind the emeralds.

"I will tell you, but please do me the favour of keeping me out of it. I do not need Gryffindorks riding my back from now on, having to deal with you is plenty enough," Draco drawled.

Harry smirked at that, he still sounded like the Malfoy he knew, but there was an obvious difference - the biggest one being that here they were, conversing almost civilly. Draco exchanged the location of Voldemort, he even added the names of the Death Eater's who would most likely be stationed there. Harry wasn't about to question any of it or its validity, that would be for Remus and the Order to decipher. He took it all down on a spare bit of parchment he had stashed in his shoulder bag. When they were done exchanging information, Draco turned on his heel to leave. There was no purpose for them to converse anymore.

"Thanks, Malfoy," Harry called after him, "Your eye looks much better, Pomfrey must have patched you up quickly," he added.

Draco barely looked over his shoulder at the boy, "You did, not Pomfrey. See you later, Potter, and try not to get killed," with that, Harry was alone in the Tower again. He stood confused, slightly lost for thought or word. Whatever just transpired between them was odd, but it wasn't quite unusual considering what happened in London in the summer.

Harry hurried himself down to Professor Lupin's office after a few minutes, making sure he waited long enough not to bump back into Malfoy on his way. The Professor was just about to retire when he entered, the parchment clutched in hand.

"Remus, I know where Voldemort is!"

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