Green eyes opened, glaring at the large red numbers of the clock.
"Stupid alarm clock," he grumbled as he reached over and turned it off.
Rolling out of bed, he grabbed a towel and headed into the bathroom. He turned the shower on and stepped back, allowing it to heat. As he began to undress, he caught his reflection. The reflection of a stranger.
Yes, Harry Potter was nineteen years old and could not remember a single detail of his previous seventeen years. Oh, he had pictures of course, and the accounts of his relatives, the Dursleys (whom Harry had disliked from the moment they had reluctantly identified him) but his own memories were virtually nonexistent. The doctors said he was nearly dead when he was brought in and it was perfectly natural that he sustain a temporary case of amnesia. Harry laughed somewhat bitterly and finished undressing, tossing his clothes into a pile on the floor.
Harry sighed as he let the warm water run over him, his mind struggling to find the answers hidden in his memories. Answers such as where the lightning shaped scar on his forehead came from. Harry shook his head and drove those thoughts from his mind. He would be late if he didn't hurry.
~*~
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the messy raven locks slipping easily through his fingers. He glanced around as he walked, looking for some clue to his life, hoping that maybe today he would see something that would trigger it. He shook his head.
"It's useless," he whispered to himself, dropping his head.
The impact of hitting another body and then cold concrete jolted him back to reality. Looking up, he met two startled silver eyes.
"Potter."
Harry's eyes widened as a single name flashed through his mind.
"Malfoy?" he said, his tone questioning.
Draco arched one eyebrow, "Who else would it-!"
He didn't finish. Harry had hugged him so fiercely that he could hardly breathe.
"Potter, what are you doing?" he demanded, silver eyes glinting dangerously as he pried Harry from him, standing and brushing himself off. People had been staring.
Harry jumped to his feet, bag forgotten at his feet, "I remembered something!" he exclaimed.
Draco's eyes narrowed in confusion, "What the hell are you talking about, Potter?"
Harry looked around as if realizing for the first time that they were in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Um," he spotted a café, "Come on, I'll explain in there."
~*~
Ten minutes later, the two boys sat across from each other at a small table in the café. Draco blinked unbelievingly at Harry as the boy related what had happened from the time he had awoken in the hospital until the time he had run into Draco.
"So," he paused, "You don't remember anything?"
Harry nodded.
"Not Snape, or Quidditch or Hogwarts...nothing?"
This was unbelievable.
"Nothing," Harry confirmed, "But," he paused, his eyes looking straight into Draco's with such intensity Draco was having trouble breathing again, "You do. And I want you to help me. I want you to help me remember."
~*~
"I hate him," Draco thought to himself as he lounged in his apartment that night, "I hate him."
He closed his eyes. Intense green orbs stared back at him.
"Damn it! I hate him!" Draco yelled.
But, if I hate him, why am I helping him get his memory back...and why can't I get his eyes out of my mind?
Draco had agreed to help the other boy regain his memories. Why, he wasn't sure but he knew it had to have something to do with those bewitching green eyes of his. Draco groaned and buried his head in his pillow.
"What is wrong with me?" he whispered to no one in particular, his voice muffled by the pillow.
~*~
Harry had decided not to go to class that day and had spent the day wandering around London trying to get Draco Malfoy out of his mind. This proved to be a very difficult thing indeed. After all, the boy simply oozed sex appeal and Harry was not nearly as immune as he should have been. All he saw when he closed his eyes was platinum hair and silver eyes. No Harry Potter was most definitely not immune to the charms of Draco Malfoy.
"Stupid alarm clock," he grumbled as he reached over and turned it off.
Rolling out of bed, he grabbed a towel and headed into the bathroom. He turned the shower on and stepped back, allowing it to heat. As he began to undress, he caught his reflection. The reflection of a stranger.
Yes, Harry Potter was nineteen years old and could not remember a single detail of his previous seventeen years. Oh, he had pictures of course, and the accounts of his relatives, the Dursleys (whom Harry had disliked from the moment they had reluctantly identified him) but his own memories were virtually nonexistent. The doctors said he was nearly dead when he was brought in and it was perfectly natural that he sustain a temporary case of amnesia. Harry laughed somewhat bitterly and finished undressing, tossing his clothes into a pile on the floor.
Harry sighed as he let the warm water run over him, his mind struggling to find the answers hidden in his memories. Answers such as where the lightning shaped scar on his forehead came from. Harry shook his head and drove those thoughts from his mind. He would be late if he didn't hurry.
~*~
Harry sighed and ran a hand through his hair, the messy raven locks slipping easily through his fingers. He glanced around as he walked, looking for some clue to his life, hoping that maybe today he would see something that would trigger it. He shook his head.
"It's useless," he whispered to himself, dropping his head.
The impact of hitting another body and then cold concrete jolted him back to reality. Looking up, he met two startled silver eyes.
"Potter."
Harry's eyes widened as a single name flashed through his mind.
"Malfoy?" he said, his tone questioning.
Draco arched one eyebrow, "Who else would it-!"
He didn't finish. Harry had hugged him so fiercely that he could hardly breathe.
"Potter, what are you doing?" he demanded, silver eyes glinting dangerously as he pried Harry from him, standing and brushing himself off. People had been staring.
Harry jumped to his feet, bag forgotten at his feet, "I remembered something!" he exclaimed.
Draco's eyes narrowed in confusion, "What the hell are you talking about, Potter?"
Harry looked around as if realizing for the first time that they were in the middle of the sidewalk.
"Um," he spotted a café, "Come on, I'll explain in there."
~*~
Ten minutes later, the two boys sat across from each other at a small table in the café. Draco blinked unbelievingly at Harry as the boy related what had happened from the time he had awoken in the hospital until the time he had run into Draco.
"So," he paused, "You don't remember anything?"
Harry nodded.
"Not Snape, or Quidditch or Hogwarts...nothing?"
This was unbelievable.
"Nothing," Harry confirmed, "But," he paused, his eyes looking straight into Draco's with such intensity Draco was having trouble breathing again, "You do. And I want you to help me. I want you to help me remember."
~*~
"I hate him," Draco thought to himself as he lounged in his apartment that night, "I hate him."
He closed his eyes. Intense green orbs stared back at him.
"Damn it! I hate him!" Draco yelled.
But, if I hate him, why am I helping him get his memory back...and why can't I get his eyes out of my mind?
Draco had agreed to help the other boy regain his memories. Why, he wasn't sure but he knew it had to have something to do with those bewitching green eyes of his. Draco groaned and buried his head in his pillow.
"What is wrong with me?" he whispered to no one in particular, his voice muffled by the pillow.
~*~
Harry had decided not to go to class that day and had spent the day wandering around London trying to get Draco Malfoy out of his mind. This proved to be a very difficult thing indeed. After all, the boy simply oozed sex appeal and Harry was not nearly as immune as he should have been. All he saw when he closed his eyes was platinum hair and silver eyes. No Harry Potter was most definitely not immune to the charms of Draco Malfoy.