~*This is SLASH, remember? You do? Good.*~

PAIRING: Harry/Draco
RATING: PG-13

SUMMARY: After losing his memory, Draco Malfoy gains friendship from Hermione and Ron and a bit more from Harry. /SLASH/

DISCLAIMER:

Starlight, star bright,

These characters, I don't own, right?

But I wish I may,

I wish I might,

Borrow them for my fics tonight.

AUTHOR'S NOTES/SOMETHING POINTLESS: Yeah, forgive bad spelling and grammar. And redundancy (if it doesn't fail to show itself). I just can't help it! It's… fun. Hehe.

//…// - Draco's widdle thoughts, if any

~*…*~ - side comments from me, if any

\\…\\ - Harry's widdle thoughts, if any

R&R: I'd appreciate it if you did, and probably wouldn't mind if you didn't. The only damage it would do is lower my self-esteem ten notches. But hanging out with my friends already does that, so… it's no biggie.

DEDICATION: Dedicated to… Dedicated to… Who was I planning to dedicate this to again? Ah, never mind.

TITLE: Lethe

Fallen in the River Lethe,

Precious few; forgotten, lost…

Chance to live the Life anew,

Risen from the Blackened Frost.

The verse was clutched tightly in one pale fist. Eyes were closed, and the only implication of a life was the sound of shallow breathing. Strands of hair— more silver, than blonde— were scattered about a pallid face. Lips were pressed into a thin line, no more a frown than a smile…

***

His forehead was sweating, a fierce pain attacking his head. Harry lay in his bed, eyes hardly daring to close, afraid the action would magnify the angry throbbing in his skull. Although it wasn't his scar that was stinging, he felt a sensation of dread that something would, or had happened. Something bad, of course, or he wouldn't be worrying like he was. He sighed, getting up and untangling himself from scarlet sheets. His mouth was dry; he needed water. He strode over to a desk holding a pitcher, grabbing an empty cup from his bedside table along the way. He almost tripped on a stray shoe, having neglected to put his glasses on. One step. Two step. Three step. His feet were standing about two inches away from a mahogany base. A hand reached out to grab a sparkling crystal handle. Fluid ran from a spout, filling the container with some H, 2, and O. Harry took a sip from its rim.

The glass is now half empty.

His eyes widened as he stirred the contents. The water was shining in waning moonlight, and was starting to colour… Shock was swimming in emerald pools. He gasped and shuddered involuntarily.

"Draco…?"

There was a loud crash.

Broken…

A thousand tiny shards scattered. Some flew to opposite corners of the darkened dormitory. Others skipped across the floor, before losing momentum and coming to a halt. The rest— the majority— settled silently on the shimmering lakes at his feet.

It was gone, but the image of his archenemy— and, though ironic, dream lover— smiling at him from the depths of transparent liquid was clearly imprinted in the recesses of his memory.

***

The body moved, flinching as if in intense pain. Knuckles were white from constant clenching. Nearby, a goblet rested. Having been knocked over, the icy-blue liquor it held was seeping into a seemingly forgotten strip of parchment… Staining the lettering… But in the shade of blood…

"Everything has a price."

TBC...

Right... Sucky, isn't it? ^_^