It was within one second in battle and Harry forgot everything, falling from his broom into oblivion. When he woke, he didn't know who he was. Trying to think of his name, he came up with Martin Wright, the name of a muggle he had known as a small child.

Looking around, he noticed he was in a forested area, greenery surrounding him in vivid color, brighter than what he had seen around Privet Drive. The wind seemed to play a tune, but when he listened closely, he could hear actual music in the distance. As he hummed along, Harry, or rather Martin, rose from the forest brush and walked toward the attractive tune.

With each step the music turned into melody, which turned into voices singing and when Martin had gotten close enough, he could hear laughing and the clicking of feet. Peeking through the trees, he saw people dancing and walking from carts and booths, immersed in games and festivities.

This was a local festival near Draco Malfoy's mansion, a festival for muggles that he attended every so often just to sneer and jeer, knowing how much better he was than the rest of the attendants. That year was one of the few years he did so, and what a pleasant surprise it brought him.

Swaying just beyond the trees, Martin was humming along to the sweet tune being played when someone tapped on his shoulder. Startled, Martin turned around to see Draco. "What are you doing here, Potter." Draco spat. Martin's eyebrows knitted together in confusion, "Who's Potter.. and have we met?" Martin asked.

Draco laughed, assuming Martin was joking, but after a few moments, his laughter faded and Martin was still staring at him in confusion. Draco was now confused as well. "Who might you be?" He asked. "Well, My name is Martin Wright, not Potter if you'd like to know!" He said in a happy chirp. Martin Wright? Who's… Merlin's beard! They jinxed him! Draco thought. Martin smiled, asking "Who are you?"

"I'm Draco Malfoy." Draco said, shaking hands with Martin. "Do you dance?" Martin asked as he tapped his foot upon the smooth stone path. Draco had always found Harry to be physically attractive, and this Martin character seemed a much more personable type, without a history of the two of them, a fresh start; he nodded and Martin took his hand, leading him to the larger area of the stone floor.

The music was loud and course through their hands and Martin took lead in the dance. I never knew Harry, err, Martin was such affine dancer. Martin lifted and landed his feet the way his parents had taught him since he could walk. He was prim, proper, but swayed to the music with an air of spontaneity. He spun Draco around and around in the dance, dipping him low by the small of his back almost the dance floor.

The music slowed and Draco took Martin's hand dancing him away into the forest where he'd landed. Martin felt as though he knew Draco already, but he did not know why. A memory flashed before his eyes, many memories. He froze and let them flood in, memories from the time when he was trying to see what Draco was doing in the Room of Requirement. He did not see anything of Ron, Hermione or anyone else. The only memories were of Draco. The memories made him feel so close and yet so far from Draco.

Facing the present once more, Martin felt gravity again in a way that felt almost bitter. "Draco?" Martin said in a small whisper. "Yes, Martin?" Draco said, something off hidden in his voice, almost sounding like concern. "Did I know you before today?" he asked his voice distant. Draco sighed. Well there went that fun. "Draco, was I in love with you?" Martin asked curiosity evident in voice.

"What?" Draco asked, heat flushing his cheeks. "Why would you think that?" Martin looked to the forest brush once more. "I don't really know. I had flashes of something running through my head just now. I was looking for you all over the place. I was trying to find you and I was staying up late in halls of a place that looked like a castle looking for you.

"You were?" Draco asked his throat clenching. Martin looked up, "Yes. It felt as though I had some strong connection to you. Am I wrong?" Martin asked. Draco looked into Martin's brilliant emerald green eyes and smiled. "I don't really know, Martin." Draco said, unsure of what Harry had been thinking of him when nobody else knew.

"Let me try something." Martin said, "I don't usually do this with strangers, or rather, at all, but I feel compelled to." Before Draco could even ask what Martin's intentions were, Martin's lips were upon Draco's. If not for the pleasure of the feeling, Draco would have pushed him away. He wasn't gay after all. I mean, sure Harry, or Martin or whoever was pretty for a boy, but he didn't feel sexually attracted to guys.

Draco gave that thought a goodbye as he slid his arms around Martin's back, shutting his eyes. Martin's arms magnetized the crook of Draco's neck and his fingers entwined in Draco's silky platinum hair. Martin tilted his head and licked Draco's lips, his heart beating a mile a minute. This feels so right. He thought as Draco licked the tip of his tongue.

Martin pressed his body against Draco's and deepened the kiss, coaxing Draco's mouth to open and allow his tongue to explore. Draco fell deeper and deeper into the touch and sensation, feeding off of Martin's kiss. His pulse was pounding and their teeth were gnashing, tongues fighting passionately.

Martin broke free to breathe and Draco brought his hands trailing up and down Martin's spine as he lowered his head, nipping lightly at Martin's neck. "Draco…" Martin said his voice low and gruff, full of lust. Draco's heart beat faster and he licked Martin's neck from collar bone to jawline. Martin shuttered and ripped Draco back up to his mouth, entering another passionate, needy kiss.

I don't even know him, yet I know him like the back of my hand. Martin thought, bending fully and hungrily into kiss after kiss, his body warming against Draco's. "I love you." He stated in a low tone, his voice a whisper of a moan. Draco froze and looked into those brilliant green eyes once more. "Harry…" Draco said, his voice full of longing.

Martin began to see things once more, the people he knew. His friends, Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, the Burrow, his name. I'm Harry Potter. He thought. "D-draco. I know who I am. I'm Harry." He remembered everything.

Draco froze, holding Harry close. "Harry, please…" he whispered, his heart dropping to his feet. Harry looked to Draco, feeling conflicted. He could remember faces and names and his identity, but he didn't remember what his and Draco's relationship was. He knew he had a strong connection and relationship with him, but he didn't know whether or not he was friend, foe, or love interest. "Who am I to you, Draco?" Harry asked.

Draco loosened his iron grip on Harry, pulling himself back enough to look into the pair of lively green eyes before him. How does he not know we are destined enemies? How could he forget? For whatever reason, I can't be happy enough! Draco thought. "Harry…" he sighed, pressing up against Harry once more. Harry felt his heart flutter, but he was still confused, his question not being answered. "You didn't answer my question." He tried to say in a firm tone, only to sound as flimsy as he felt.

"If I answered your question, it would ruin everything." Draco said sadly, his lids drooping, his eyes unfocused. His breathing was hot and moist upon Harry's neck, sending shivers through Harry's body. Draco wrapped his arms up and around Harry's neck, his fingers delving into the mass of black, unkempt curls upon Harry's head.

Breathing heavily, Harry looked into the sad silver eyes staring into his. Draco felt his breath across his mouth, they were so close, their bodies glued against each other. "Draco…" Harry whimpered quietly, his voice full of need and confusion. Draco whispered "Shhhhh." And nestled his soft lips against Harry's.

They entwined in yet another kiss, tongues sweeping one another slowly, not in aggression and lust as before, but in thorough and concise enjoyment. They tasted each other's mouths, smiling and being as close as possible. This is perfect. Draco thought, almost as an unintentional curse.

Mid-snog, Harry remembered the last of everything he had forgotten, the truth behind his and Draco's relationship. We hate each other. He thought, feeling the lips upon his become colder and snakelike as his mind altered the reality of who Draco was once more. As the judgment and pain settled in fully, Harry spat upon Draco, wiping his mouth of the vile creature that had just latched upon him.

"What the Hell was that, you mangy git!" Harry said, glaring at Draco. Draco fell back into his prim and smug personality. "You're the one that forced me into it! Why would I ever kiss a halfblood breed like you? You are far below my standards, Potter." Draco said with a sneer. "You will never change, Draco. I'm leaving and don't expect anything like that ever again. You took advantage of me and I will never forgive you! I'm going to find Ron and Hermione. Accio: wand!" Within seconds, Harry was headed off into the graying sky with Draco calling out in a sour tone, "That's right, run you coward! See if your blood traitor and mudblood friends are looking for you!"

As Draco saw Harry flying out of sight, he slumped against a pine trunk and fell to the forest floor. Holding his knees to his chest tightly, he breathed shakily, tears coming in a downpour. He began to shake and wanted to curse Harry's name, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. After a few minutes of sobbing, Draco whispered, "No Harry, it's you that will never change."

Fallen asleep in the forest, face covered in dried tears, Draco slept the cool winter night through. His father did not come looking and his mother was far too busy to think of her son. Draco for one moment with Harry had not been alone, but in exchange for the love and desire he never knew he had for the supposed enemy he'd always had, he was left even more alone and empty than beforehand. His heart was ripped out and never again would Draco Malfoy be the same person with the same passion and fire, jest and creativeness.

After Harry Potter ripped out his heart, Draco was nothing but a pale shell of a wizard, his soul being left behind in the forest clearing for eternity.