Memory
PG
Draco's POV. HPDM forever.
Remember when the grass felt so good between your fingertips, beneath your hands?
When your feet was wrapped in fresh dewy air, when they touched the clear pearls on the soft, green blades?
It was a fine day, wasn't it? It was a day full of worries you were made to forget. Everything was working like a beautiful musical cliché. But nobody cared about that because it didn't matter. It didn't matter like how you felt.
Or remember how you took a picture of a sunrise? Couldn't wait for the Polaroid to show the colours. Couldn't wait to see the great orange in the sky. I was next to it, you decided to make a memory with your camera. But it looked nothing like the real thing, when you held it up to see. It didn't matter, because you know in your entire lifetime, you've caught a sunrise.
Or remember when I broke two toes from kicking that stone pillar when we went to a museum in London, and I kept making so much bloody noise that the nurse gave me anaesthetics, just because? You said the doctor hated me because I was such a prick answering questions, but it was funny anyway.
I'm sorry, I've got a bad memory, and I only remember because you keep telling me these things again and again. But it doesn't matter that I can't remember any of these things with crystal clear precision.
Because I was with you.
And that's all that matters.