The Unclear
The uncertainty of memory was an insufferable nuisance. His impatience boiled, staving off the chill as he roamed the recesses of his mind.
The figure in the distance was blurred, but it was the only discernible object; the center of his attention.
She was always his focus.
It seemed that even in the haziest corners of his memory, he could sense her. Always there, always taunting and teasing, always driving him mad.
In vain, he tried to touch the curls dripping down her back.
Always there but never in reach.
Draco remembered but couldn't see.
Lost in fog.