M e m o r i e s . o f . m e...
* * * * * * * * *
C.h.a.p.t.e.r.3 - the meeting...
March, 1996...
The darkness seemed almost overwhelming as he ran past the rustling trees, feeling hundreds of invisible eyes upon him, laughing with mirth, with glee, with anticipation, of him. The leaves and broken branches under his feet snapped and cracked, as if protesting, as if telling him that it was no use running, and that he should give up... because the Dark Lord won't let him get away.
Not this time.
A vine, out of the sudden emptiness and eerie silence whipped out and curled around his right foot. Caught by the unexpected harshness of it around his ankle, the thorns digging into his flesh, he cried out and fell.
The bangs on his forehead was blown back, revealing a lightning-shaped scar, burning as if it was newly branded and brought a strangle cry out of his throat. The pain was intense... it was overwhelming, bursting with such power of hatred that he felt he could just die right then.
He lay there, face buried in his injured arm, tired and very much lonely, in every sense of word, waiting for his fate. It was over. He would never be able to see Hermione and Ron again. He would never be able to say goodbye to his friends, never...
A hand, a cold, rough hand, grabbed him by his arm and pulled. Harry jerked back instinctively, looking up as his own hand reflexively reached for his wand, and realized that it was taken away from him some time ago.
"Potter! Stop fooling around and let's go!" the voice was urgent, annoyed, and desperate.
Harry's eyes were wide as he croaked out, "P-Professor Snape?"
"No time for talk, let's go!" Snape growled, looking back behind him as if worrying something might jump out at him.
"Why?" the emptiness in Harry's voice shocked Snape into silence. "Why should I run away from him again? He would get me back, like last time, and this time. I'm so tired, I don't want to run anymore."
The slap that whipped across Harry's face echoed through the forest, receiving angry screeches and howls from within. Harry stared at the angry Professor as red, imprinted fingers appeared on his cheek, and the blood sipped out and slowly down to his mouth. Then the shock of it vanished just to replace by anger. "How dare you...?"
"You stupid, blind fool! After all your mother and father did for you, you're going to sit there and let the Dark Lord kill you? After all the Order did to protect you! After all we went through just to prevent the Dark Lord from getting his hand on a useless Gryffindor! You're just going to sit there like a nice little boy waiting for death!" Snape glared at Harry with such ferocity that Harry jumped back, but what more, was the words that hit him much more than the physical slap did: "I'm very disappointed in you."
Snape was disappointed in him, Harry thought in wonder, meaning that even though Snape hated him, wanted him gone from his eyes, like to torment him, Snape has faith in him. Meaning Snape has never doubted him, even though he liked to tell Dumbledore that every chance he got.
The man sneered and made to walk away, having enough of the Gryffindor already, and gave out a cry.
"Professor Snape!?" Harry shouted, climbing up to his feet and ran to the dark-haired man. He noticed with horror that the back of his cloak was slashed, and there was blood oozing out from it, drenching the cloak.
Harry whipped around, quick as lightning, and saw, in the clearing, a figure with blond hair, smirking at him.
Lucius Malfoy.
The raging storm flaring in the emerald eyes was the only evident as to what Harry was feeling right then.
As if in slow motion Harry saw Lucius raised his wand in a circle, and a slash across that, as his mouth opened and closed in the process of forming a spell.
A blinding red light burst out from the tip and shot through the icy air like knife through butter, toward him. Harry stood on his ground, every ounce of him surged with anger. How dare he?
The spell, inches from Harry, disappeared in a swish of gray smoke. Lucius's eyes widened with disbelief. A cruel smile passed Harry's face, and he raised his hand, palm up, and they saw a globe of fire burning there.
And in a casual movement, he threw it at Lucius Malfoy.
"Potter!" Snape's voice sounded a distant away as he fell backwards, drowning in the darkness of his mind.
P.a.R.t.T.h.I.r.T.e.E.N.d.O.n.E
November 8, 1997...
Harry woke up, drenched in sweat and panting heavily. He raised a hand to his forehead, and felt it stabbing pain into his head. When Harry looked into the mirror the other day, he saw a scar shaped like lightning on his forehead, and had asked Ron about it, but Ron refused to answer him.
Grabbing the glass of water on his bedside table, Harry drowned it down in one gulp. The pain throbbing in his head was fading quickly, and soon he wasn't sure if it was there at all.
Harry fell back on his bed, staring at the ceiling. That was a very strange dream, even though he didn't remember much of it. All he knew was that he was there, and he did something horribly wrong.
But why?
Harry thought, and that man... he looked awfully like Draco... who was he? Harry closed his eyes, feeling very dejected. He didn't know why he couldn't remember. It has been a week already, ever since he first woke up in the infirmary and saw all those people. From what Madame Pomfrey said the last time he went to have a check up in the hospital wing, he should have at least gotten some recollections of his past back, but he couldn't remember anything, much to his frustration. He saw some glimpses of his old time, but he couldn't exactly put them together and pull his memories back to him. All Harry knew was what his friends told him, and had simply accepted it as the truth.Looking over at the Snitch clock, he noticed that it was seven and in one hour it was time for breakfast. Sighing, Harry sat up and got out of bed.
After a quick shower by himself (since it was too early for anyone to be awake), Harry stood in front of the mirror with a towel around his waist, staring at his reflection. His bright green eyes stood out vividly, large and childlike, and his unruly hair stuck out in every direction, curling slightly around his neck at the end, bangs falling to the sides of his face to curve at his cheekbones. A straight nose and pinkish lips looking rather timidly. The lips curved into a smile. As a seventeen-year-old, he looked just like a little boy, slender and leaned. A Seeker built, like Ron said. He suddenly remembered Draco, although a bit taller than him, was slender like him as well.
Draco was another confusion as well. He obviously didn't hate Harry like he kept insisting he was. And Draco was getting friendlier towards him, even looked worried during Potions the other day when he threw up, but he would not admit it. Why wouldn't he? Harry wondered. Ron was always so hostile around Draco, and Hermione kept making faces when he talked about the blonde. Harry wished he knew what had happened to make them hate each other so much. If he could only remember...
Just then the door into the bathroom opened, and Harry turned his head around, just to see Seamus, holding a towel and his school robes in his hands.
They looked at each other.
Seamus' eyes traveled down Harry's chest, stopped at the waistline, and looked up into Harry's eyes again.
They blushed.
"Oh, um, sorry, I - I..." Seamus stammered, gesturing to Harry and himself. "I didn't know... I thought - I mean - I didn't think - I..."
"Um, it's okay, Seamus," Harry said hastily, seeing Seamus' flaming cheeks turning redder. "I shouldn't have taken that long for a shower. I'm done now, erm, I should go."
Seamus nodded dazedly, moving aside so Harry could walk out, or rather, run out and closed the door behind him, sighing.
When he looked up, his dorm mates were watching him; Ron pausing in the process of pulling his shirt on, Neville stopped trying to find his books, and Dean froze while tidying his bed...
Harry turned red. Why did I forget to bring a set of robes along with me? "I... er, um, just got out of shower, and um, forgot to bring my clothes with me, but..."
Dean was by his side in an instant. "Harry, Seamus didn't... do anything to you, did he?" he asked hesitantly.
Ron came over to him. "If he did, then we'll kill him!" he said venomously and made to take down the door separating him and the Irish boy.
"No! He didn't do anything, honest!" Harry said loudly. "Ron, really."
Ron looked doubtful, but didn't press the subject, much to Harry's relief.
When they came down to the common room, Hermione was waiting for them, sitting on an armchair and reading on a thick book. She smiled at Harry when the dark-haired boy came down, jumping out of her seat.
Hermione raised her eyebrows when Seamus brushed past her, practically breaking his neck running out of the tower. "What's up with him?" she asked when Ron and Harry came over.
"Ohhh, he must have done something! Otherwise he wouldn't be looking guilty and running like that," Ron growled, cracking his knuckles.
"No, Ron! He didn't!" Harry protested. Ron was so much like an overprotective brother that it was scary sometimes.
"Care to share?" Hermione poked Ron on the ribs.
Harry explained to Hermione on their way to the Great Hall for breakfast, while Ron adding a few inappropriate words now and then, much to Hermione's disapproval. Harry watched as the two of them bickering at each other. Even though they both sounded annoyed, they still had a loving, passionate air to them. Harry's eyes adverted down, and saw their joined hands. Why would they do that? Harry thought curiously. Now that I think about it, I did see lots of people do that, too.
Harry fell into steps with Hermione, eyeing her with interest. "Hermione, why do you hold hands with Ron?" he asked.
Hermione watched Harry's face, giggling. "Oh Harry, I forgot how clueless you are about these things."
"Well, answer him, Hermione," Ron said, rolling his eyes.
"Holding hands," Hermione emphasized, raising their entwined hands, "means that you like each other very much."
"Oh, um," Harry bit his lower lip, then stepped between both of them, and hold one of their hands in his. "Like this?"
Ron and Hermione laughed out loud. "Harry, honestly!" Ron said.
Hermione's laughter quieted, and she looked at him with sad eyes. "I just want you to get your memories back soon. There's so much you've forgotten. It's like I'm with you but not you at all."
"Hermione," Harry said quietly, wishing he could do something about it. He hated it when his friends were like this, depressed because of him.
"It's not your fault, Harry," Hermione said quickly. "Don't worry yourself about it. I just can't help it sometimes, you know?"
Harry's eyes were sparkling and he squeezed both of their hands, nodding.
The Great Hall was as noisy in the morning as any other time of the day. Harry's eyes immediately traveled to search for Draco, and found him sitting next to a black-haired boy, talking and laughing with each other. Harry's heart did a funny flip when he saw Draco, but he frowned deeply and felt very disappointed when Draco didn't even look at him. Silently he went with his two best friends over to the Gryffindor table.
They were a bit early today, and there weren't many in the Great Hall, much to Harry's relief, since they all seemed to have the tendency to stare at him at every chance they got. Harry ate breakfast and spoke with the friendly Gryffindors. Seamus wouldn't talk to him, and Harry wondered if he'd offended the guy in any way. Ginny was very excited today for some strange reason, because she wouldn't stop talking, until Ron told her to shut up that she did and went away to another two girls named Parvati and Lavender and started talking all over again. There was this one specific boy that carried a camera with him and kept asking Harry if he could take pictures of him. Hermione told him to go away and he did, sullenly.
Harry, on his part, couldn't help but stealing glances over to the Slytherin table. He still couldn't figure out why Draco was ignoring him, or why he looked so indifferent, as if nothing in the world mattered to him. Harry didn't think he make Draco mad, because if he did, then he must have forgotten it. God, he hoped not. He didn't want to forget anything that got to do with Draco, because... well, just because.
Harry had gotten used to seeing lots of owls swooping down on their heads every single day. Hedwig did a few times, just because she wanted to eat breakfast with him. Harry smiled. He was really fond of Hedwig. She was so lovely and sometimes, she looked as if she knew what he was thinking. Today Hedwig visited him, but she surprised him with a letter tied to her leg. Harry looked at Ron and Hermione, who urged him to open the letter to see who it was from.
Harry obeyed, and after he finished reading, he looked at them with a confused face. Hermione studied his face for a moment before taking the letter and read it herself. It said, in quick, cursive letters:
Old place. Same time.
Snuffle
"Harry," Hermione whispered, leaning closer to him while folding the paper neatly, "Snuffle is your godfather. His real name is Sirius."
"Really? I have a godfather?" Harry asked, his face brightened considerably.
"Shh, not too loud," Ron hissed.
"Why not?"
"Because, Harry," Hermione explained slowly, "they think that Sirius Black, your godfather, is a convicted murder when he's not."
"But why would they think that?" Harry's question held a bewilder tone to it.
"I can't explain here, Harry, they'll hear us," Hermione said, pulling him up. "Let's go back to the common room, I'll tell you there."
Harry nodded and the trio left the Great Hall, with Harry not knowing that a pair of eyes was watching him, loneliness and regret glowing in the depths of their eyes.
Half an hour later as Harry and his two friends walked out into the open daylight, Harry was feeling nervous. He was told that Sirius loved him very much, and that he was Harry's parents' best friend, and that they found out Sirius wasn't a murderer in their third year. They also told him many other things, too. Like how Sirius nearly died in their fifth year, when he fell into the arch, but luckily he grabbed onto the curtain and was saved. Harry was surprised to hear that he cast one of the Unforgivable Curse on the person that pushed Sirius over the arch. He seemed so violent then, Harry thought...
Harry walked past the Quidditch pitch, where a flash of image passed the emptiness in his mind. Across the Forbidden Forest, he felt the pull of its mysterious darkness drawing him closer, and they finally stopped in front of the tree that Hermione called the Whomping Willow.
"Ron, go on," Hermione said, and Ron stared at her.
"What?! Why me?" he asked indignantly. The Whomping Willow did not leave a very pleasant memory in his mind.
"Because I'm a girl and Harry doesn't know how," Hermione said matter-of-factly, smiling sweetly at her boyfriend.
Ron grumpily stepped toward the tree, ducked under a branch, taking care not to touch it, and pressed gently to a certain spot.
The tree suddenly stood straight up, frozen. Ron nodded to both of them and they walked past him into this dark passageway. Ron was quick by their side, and they hunched together as they walked, with Ron bumping to the rough surface above him now and then.
They stopped in front of a door, and Hermione raised a hand to push it open.
Harry squinted his eyes, peering into the darkness until he became used to it, and it was then something jumped onto him, huffing and licking his face madly.
That was when he panicked.
Large, gleaming eyes... flying... a black dog between the students on the stand... a cave with a man... long hair... straight nose... mischievous eyes...
Harry stared up at the man that was in his head a moment before, now shaking his shoulders roughly, watching him with worries. Behind him was Ron and Hermione, looking wary and concerned. Harry struggled to stand up, and the man helped him. "God Harry, you scared the heck out of me," he said, putting a hand to his chest. "Not hurt, are you?"
Harry shook his head. "N-no, I'm okay."
"Well, come in then, don't just stand there," he ushered them in the room and closed the door behind him. He then walked over to Harry and sat down next to him on the battered, old bed. "So, I heard you got bashed on the head by a Bludger and lost your memories?" he asked conversationally, and Harry took a liking to this man immediately.
"Yes, I did," Harry said quietly.
"Dumbledore told me about your... unusual sickness," he started.
"It's not a sickness," Hermione interrupted. "He has an amnesia."
The man waved a hand at her dismissively. "Whatever. Um, could you two go away for a bit so I can talk to my godson for a while?"
Hermione and Ron looked at each other and nodded at him, walking out and closing the door behind them.
When they were gone, the dark-haired man looked at Harry, and pulled him into his arms. "I am so sorry, Harry. I failed James and Lily again. I am a horrible godfather. I've neglected you for the past twelve years, and another five years running around leaving you in the hands of those evil people."
"It's not your fault," Harry protested, not knowing who was 'evil' and guessing that this person was Sirius. "You couldn't have done anything, you were locked away in Azkaban. And if you didn't hide, you would be dead by now."
Sirius pushed him away slightly to look in his eyes. "You remember, Harry?"
Harry shook his head. "No, Hermione and Ron told me."
Sirius's face fell, but he brightened up a bit. "It's okay! I'm here, so I could help you as much as I can now!" Sirius studied him for a long moment, which made Harry very self-conscious of himself. "You've thinned a bit since the last I saw you. Eating normally, Harry?"
"Er, yeah, I am," Harry answered hesitantly, wondering when was the last time they'd seen each other. "Three meals a day."
Sirius chuckled. "So, how's your classes? Get good grades? Make good friends? Learn more stuff?"
"Um, my classes are okay. They are quite interesting, actually, but the Potions Master is a bit... mean," Harry told him honestly.
Sirius's face changed into one of disgust. "Snape? He's one horrible person, or animal, whatever. I don't like him, no one liked him, but he saved your life, so I guess that counts for something."
"He did?" Harry asked, interested.
"Yeah, in your sixth year. You got captured by Voldemort, and he was the one who went and got you back. Although how I don't know, because no one knew where you were. Perhaps he was plotting something..." Sirius said suspiciously, even though that it was nearly half way through Harry's seventh year already. "Well, he lost his job as the double agent for Dumbledore because of it."
"Why?"
"Because one of Voldemort's supporter found out his real identity," answered Sirius.
A pull, like a string tied around his memory guiding it towards him, tugged at the back of his head, and he frowned, trying to remember. Flash, a tree - another flash - running - another... falling... a fire ball... a blond man...
"Harry?"
Harry jumped slightly, looking back at his godfather. "Yes?"
"You alright, kid? You looked pretty out of it," Sirius said, a note of worry held in his voice.
"Yes, I was just remembering something," Harry said absently.
"Um, alright," Sirius said slowly.
Harry smiled at him, and he smiled back, weakly. Then...
"Okay, that's it!" Sirius cried. "Look here, Harry, I'm not good at this kind of things, so tell me if I do anything wrong, okay?"
"You didn't do anything wrong, Sirius, really," Harry reassured his godfather.
Another moment of silence passed, and this time, it was Harry who spoke. "Um, Sirius, can I ask you something?" he asked timidly.
"Of course! I'll help you the best I can," Sirius said enthusiastically.
Harry smiled brightly at him. "Oh, okay! Um, what does it mean when your heart thumps really fast and you get really hot?"
Sirius stared at him...
And burst out laughing. "Harry! That's the funniest thing I've ever heard!" Then, seeing the blushing face of his godson, Sirius stopped laughing. "You're not joking, are you?"
Slowly, he shook his head.
"Good god Harry, you really lost all of your memories," Sirius said in astonishment.
"Um, if you can't answer, than that's okay," Harry said quickly, blushing redder.
"No NO! I can answer, I mean," Sirius said hastily, and then sighed. "I'm really not good at this kind of thing. Wish Remus's here."
"Who's Remus?"
"Oh, a friend of mine, and your parents," Sirius replied.
"Really? Can I see him?" Harry asked excitedly. Ever since Hermione told him that his parents died along time ago, he couldn't help but want to find out as much as he could about them, but he kept having the feeling that he'd upset his friends by asking them about it.
"Er, sure, I think," Sirius said hesitantly. "He's out on some business for a few days, but if you really want, I could ask Dumbledore and let you stay over for Christmas break. It's next month anyway. Then we all can see each other."
Harry grinned brightly at his godfather, and gave him a big hug. "Thanks, Sirius."
Sirius looked surprised, but returned Harry's hug. "You know, you really change, Harry," he said after a while.
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, looking at Sirius with confused eyes.
"Well, before, you were very much to yourself, and you prefer as less human contact as much you could. You rarely talk to me at all," Sirius told him.
"I was?" astonishment was clear in Harry's voice. "Sirius, was I... really violent, then?"
"What makes you think that?"
"I don't know..." Harry said slowly. "Hermione told me that I did an Unforgivable at this person who nearly killed you."
Sirius laughed. "Don't worry about it, Harry. Anyone would've done it, I mean, that person was really evil, and hurt a lot of people, so it was okay, and you didn't really hurt her."
"I didn't?"
"No, the only way to hurt a person using the Crucio is to want to do it and enjoy seeing the person being hurt. You didn't," Sirius said, smiling fondly at Harry, "and that what makes all the different."
Sirius's words lifted Harry's mood a bit. "So, Harry, back to the matter of the heart," Sirius said, almost gleefully, rubbing his hands together. "Heart thumping and feeling very hot, you say? Well, besides having a flu, the only way you could feel like that is because you like someone."
"Like someone?" Harry said, not really understanding. "But I like Ron and Hermione and you and the others, but I don't feel like that."
"Dear god, Harry, not like that!" Sirius exclaimed, laughing. "Meaning you have a crush on this one only specific person, meaning you fancy this person..."
"Oh..." Harry said, realization dawned over him.
"Yeah, so tell me, who is it?" Sirius asked, clapping Harry's shoulder.
"Um, it's Draco," Harry answered truthfully.
There was a moment in which the silence stretched as if eternity.
"WHAT?" Sirius cried. "Not that son of Lucius Malfoy?!"
"Who's Lucius Malfoy? But Draco's last name is Malfoy," Harry said.
"Bloody hell, Harry," Sirius said faintly. "I really wish you have a flu now."
"Why?" Harry said, startled.
"Draco Malfoy is not exactly the right person for you to have a crush on," Sirius said, sighing. "How long have you feel like this?"
"Um, for a few days now, after I talked with him on the Quidditch pitch, really," Harry said, remembering Draco's face, soft and glowing in the dark.
"What did you two talk about?"
"The night sky," Harry replied, smiling slightly. "He looked really worried at me for some reason, and then..."
It's fate...
Harry's eyes were heavy, eyelashes lowering. It was what Draco said, but was it really fate that they were enemies? Or was it because...
"Harry?!"
Sirius's voice brought him out of his reverie, and he smiled. "Now don't ask if I feel okay, because I will leave if you do," Harry warned.
Sirius looked at his godson for a moment, then grinned, messing up his hair. "Well, then, I won't ask. But it's really amazing how you can guess like that."
Harry just laughed at him.
P.a.R.t.F.o.R.t.E.e.N.d.O.n.E
Since today was Saturday and there were no classes, Draco decided to take a walk around the lake. It was a gray day, with specks of white clouds upon the stormy sky. It was getting colder into November, and Draco's mood was as cold as the weather itself, if not more.
Draco stuffed his hands into the pockets of his robe, watching the withering grass as he walked along the edge of the lake. When Harry entered the Great Hall that morning Draco had immediately sensed out the gaze Harry gave him, but he didn't return Harry's look. Perhaps he didn't want to, or perhaps he was afraid of what would happen if he did.
He wasn't stupid. He saw the way he changed when he was around Harry, even if the Gryffindor didn't notice - didn't understand.
This wasn't supposed to happen. Everything was supposed to be as it was before. They were supposed to hate each other, to be enemies. Everything was perfect before. He didn't want any changes. He couldn't have any changes.
Draco knew what was expected of Harry, the Boy Who Lived. What was expected of him. There were risks that he couldn't take.
There were obstacles.
Ever since he first met Harry Potter in that robes shop years ago, Draco knew right away that he was different, otherwise he wouldn't have spoken to him at all. Even though Harry was scrawny and was wearing clothes many sizes too large for him, there was a glow around his body that drew his attention. The round, old-fashioned and broken glasses that framed his large, green eyes, staring at everything in awe. And the hair... Draco smiled slightly at the memory ... the untamable hair that stuck up in every direction, unlike Draco's neat, slicked back hair.
Now thinking back, Draco thought he sounded very spoiled (which he was, and still is) and arrogant. No wonder Harry looked a bit annoyed at him. Then on the first day of school, Draco overheard the Weasley twins talking about Harry Potter being on the train. Father had told him to make friends with Harry Potter before hand, saying that it'd do them good if Voldemort comes back, which he did.
Draco had no intention of making friends with Harry Potter, and every intention of finding that boy with bright green eyes, but he couldn't disobey his father, so grumpily he went, his two companions tagging along with him.
What that shocked him into delight was that Harry Potter was the boy he met in the robes shop.
He had been very excited, ecstatic, even. He wanted to know that boy, become friends with him, talk to him, play Quidditch with him, to do everything with him. He thought up many things they could do together, and now that he was Harry Potter himself, then everything was perfect.
Except that it wasn't.
Draco's pride was hurt, and all the things he thought they could do together were shattered to many pieces and vanished when Harry rejected his friendship. He couldn't believe Harry rejected him, for a Weasley. He couldn't believe that when he was so honestly wanting to be friends with him, he refused... for a Weasley. It stabbed a pain straight to his heart, and that was when it changed. He realized then that they couldn't be friends, and his father's words came back to him...
If he ever rejected your friendship, then you can never be his friend. You will be his enemy.
And Harry's enemy he became. He'd spent every year trying to get in Harry's way, trying to get him in trouble, even though he failed every time.
It was he who asked his father to help him get into the Quidditch team as a Seeker. Draco didn't like his position at all, simply because he thought he was a better Keeper, but Harry was a Seeker, therefore that made him want to be one as well. Beating Harry at Quidditch was the goal Draco had been trying to achieve every since he first played against him. So far it didn't work.
As time went by Draco noticed something else that was different. He no longer wanted to outdo Harry, and that all the things he done to Harry was to get the Gryffindor to notice him. He realized that during the summer before sixth year, when his father was arrested to Azkaban.
Oh, Draco absolutely detested Harry at that moment, because his father, even though a Death Eater, was a good father, and Draco thought he had lost his father forever (but he didn't). He spent his every waking moment hating Harry and every sleeping moment dreaming about what he would do when he get his hands on Harry, and that was to beat him senseless until he beg and plead for mercy.
Near the end of the summer, his hatred for Harry still didn't waver, and to his horror Draco found that he couldn't stop thinking about him.
Harry was his obsession, and coming to that realization was as painful to him as when he lost his grandmother when he was five.
Draco had made himself believe that the only reason why he was so obsessed with Harry was because Harry was his enemy. Draco spent his sixth year making himself believe that he hated Harry, that Harry was the one who took his father away from him, that Harry always beat him at everything, that Harry was his family's enemy...
It worked. He totally and firmly believed that he hated Harry, until... well, until the incident a week ago.
Harry was like a completely different person. At first Draco didn't think much of it, but then it was Harry's words that made him question his feelings all over again.
I don't want to be your enemy
, Harry had said, and for a heartbreaking moment Draco forgot that Harry has an amnesia. The bitterness in him rose to surface at those words... of course you want to be my enemy, he had said, because what other reason would Harry refuse his friendship all those years ago?... you want to be my enemy from the start...It was excruciating to relive the things he'd long forgotten, and it was even more so when he has to go through all the questions of doubt he thought he had gotten over with. Why was it that whenever you thought you had gotten over it, it came up and ruin your life again?
The civil conversations with Harry, no matter how short, imprinted in his mind like many scars. Unfadable because of the person he was speaking to, unwanted because of the pretense he had to uphold.
And then, he realized that, after all this time believing - pretending to be Harry's enemy, what he wanted was what he could never have.
Harry's love.
P.a.R.t.F.i.F.t.E.e.N.d.O.n.E
The enchanted ceiling in the Great Hall was a color of grayish-black, indicating that it will rain any moment soon. Dinner was almost over, and Ron, along with Hermione, had stopped eating some time ago to speak with Harry.
"Now Harry, if he dare trying to hurt you, remember the hex I taught you," Hermione said seriously.
"Yeah, and tell us, so we could go and tell Dumbledore," Ron added.
"And don't you worry about one thing he'll say, it's never true, anyway," Hermione told him as an afterthought.
Harry nodded absently, his mind elsewhere. After the talk he had with Sirius, he was very unsettled. He didn't understand how having a crush on Draco was a bad thing. If that was the case, then does Seamus having a crush on him consider to be a bad thing as well? From the way everyone acted and teased Seamus about it, he didn't think so. So why would Draco be an exception?
"Harry, are you listening to me?" Ron's voice finally registered in his mind.
"Yes," Harry said quickly, "of course I was."
"Dinner's almost over," Hermione said, standing up, and so did he and Ron. "Be careful around Malfoy, Harry, don't ever turn your back when he's there. And remember..."
"The hex you taught me, I know Hermione," Harry said, smiling at Hermione. "Thanks."
Hermione nodded at him, waving him out of the Great Hall as she saw Draco standing up on the other side, walking out swiftly.
Harry said goodbye to both of his friends and exited after Draco.
After the double door closed behind him, Harry saw Draco standing against the wall, his arms crossed and face cast down. Draco was determined not to look at him, even when Harry was standing next to the blonde.
"Hello," was Harry's quiet greeting.
"Hi," Draco muttered back.
"Um," Harry said, feeling very awkward, "where are we going?"
Draco didn't reply right away. Instead, he looked up at the ceiling, then back down to his hands, took a deep breath, and looked, for the first time throughout dinner, at Harry.
Draco nearly doubled back at the expression Harry was giving him. Wide, confused eyes, silently asking why Draco was avoiding him, asking if Draco know how much he was upset because of it? The sadness on Harry's face was so plain that Draco almost sais sorry.
"Where do you want to go?" Draco asked instead, looking away.
Harry ignored Draco's question, and purposely stepped in front of Draco. "Are you avoiding me?" he asked, hurt visible in his voice, his eyes searching Draco's face.
"No, I'm not." Draco was disgusted at himself once the words left his mouth. I'm such a liar.
"You're lying," Harry said.
Draco didn't even bother to defend himself, and his silence was all that Harry needed. "Why are you avoiding me?" Harry asked in a small whisper. "Did I - if I did anything wrong, then you should tell me so I..."
"NO! No, you didn't do anything wrong," Draco said hurriedly. "Really." I'm the wronged one here.
Before Harry could ask another question, Draco grabbed his hand and pulled him away from the Great Hall. "Come on, Harry, we can't stay here or else people'll see."
Harry didn't even listen, his attention was on the pale hand that hold his.
Holding hands means that you like each other very much
.Draco was holding his hand, Harry thought in wonderment, does that mean that Draco likes...? Harry didn't finish his thought, because something Draco said had finally passed through his head.
Draco called him Harry.
Harry raised his head to look at Draco's face, smiling to himself. Draco is holding my hand and he called me Harry. A funny feeling fluttered in his stomach, and he couldn't help but let out a giggle.
Draco turned to look at Harry. "What's so funny?"
Harry shook his head, still giggling. "Nothing," he smiled cheerfully, unconsciously leaning closer to the blonde.
"Alright," Draco said doubtfully, and then, he told Harry, "I've decided where we should go to."
Harry's smile was brighter than the sun as he nodded at Draco, who was curious at his sudden change of mood, but all the same feeling pleasantly warm inside at that smile, directed at him.
A few minutes later they were standing before the Forbidden Forest, with Harry sending Draco a questioning look.
"This is the Forbidden Forest," Draco said, gesturing to the darkness behind the trees. "I think you had some really unforgettable, or otherwise," he added as an afterthought, "memories that connected to it."
Draco took a step closer to the forest, guiding Harry along with him. Harry didn't question the blonde, but followed him, holding his hand all this time. Draco noticed Harry's hand in his was sweating, and jumped slightly. Harry's hand... in his? Glancing down, Draco groaned mentally. When did he take Harry's hand? And why didn't Harry say anything about it? Now that he thought about it, why would Harry let him...? Out of the corner of his eyes Draco saw the other, face illuminated in the dark with a glow that seemed to be coming from within.
Harry's hair was gently blowing back along the night's breeze, leaving his infamous scar unobscured to those who look.
Draco was mesmerized by Harry's eyes, glowing a mellow green color, and with the glasses over them, the eyes were glazed over as if in a daze. Draco didn't speak and continued to watch Harry.
Harry, meanwhile, was caught in flashes of his past. A blond boy holding a lamp... slithering cloak that hisses that him in a breathy whisper... his scar is in pain... a man with four legs, clopping towards him... another image... spiders everywhere, a familiar redhead walking along him, following the crawling creatures... large eyes blinking at him... more spiders rounding on both of them... a screeching noise, then a car... he gasped back as more images followed... a werewolf dashing off behind the trees of the forest... dragons breathing fires, chained and controlled by a dozen men... a giant tied to trees, howling and struggling against its bond... centaurs aiming their arrows at them, very unfriendly... a toad-faced woman screaming as she is carried by one of the four-legged creatures... fleshless, black skin clinging to every bone on the horse-like creatures... bending to lick at a freshly cut meat, leathery wings stretched widely...
Harry was sobbing, Draco noticed, but he wasn't screaming like every other time he remembered something. The Gryffindor's hand was sweating like mad in his, and other hand was raised to his face in a gesture of defense, as if blocking something foul away. Harry was muttering something, his eyes shut tight, and Draco, alarmed, grabbed his shoulder and gave a violent shake. "Harry!"
Harry's eyes snapped open in shock, his lower lip trembling as he stared up into Draco's worried eyes. "Harry...?"
Without a word Harry stepped forward, let go of Draco's hand, and pressed his forehead to Draco's chest.
A twinge of feeling tugged at his heart at Harry's action, and Draco was left frozen to the spot. He stared far ahead, feeling Harry's hands gripped at his cloak, feeling the other boy's shoulders shook silently. Incoherent thoughts passed through his head in a haze, and he knew he has to pay attention to them, but how can he when all of his attention was on Harry?
It took a few moments for Draco's arms to work properly, and once his senses came back to him, without a hesitation Draco raised his arms and put them around Harry.
It felt odd, not just because this was the first time he had ever tried to comfort someone, but because it was Harry he was comforting. Harry wasn't that short and small, but he fitted in Draco's arms as if he was made to be hold by him, only him.
Draco didn't say anything, not a word of comfort, not a sound, because somehow, it felt as if it wasn't enough. So Draco just hold him, running one hand through Harry's thick, soft hair, a gesture he'd wanted to do for such a long time, but not knowing why, and down his back in a soothing manner. He breathed in deeply, mesmerized by Harry's scent, a faint morning fragrant mixed with the smell of his shampoo. If this could only last forever...
Gradually Harry's sob quieted and the shaking stopped, but Harry didn't try to pull away, nor did Draco let Harry go.
They stood there in silence, silhouetted against the eerie darkness, neither moving nor speaking, just standing there, just feeling content being with each other.
It was some time later that Harry broke the silence in a cracked voice. "All the things I've seen... in my head, they were terrible. The faces... the things that happened... the creatures... all of them were so..." An intake of breath, followed by a shudder, and Draco found himself tightened his arms around the other boy.
He had never given a thought to what that Harry must have been through. He had always believed that everything happened in Harry's life was perfect... everyone praised him for something he did when he was one year old, friends who stood by his side, a headmaster that looked over him, but the way Harry reacted to his memories, the way he had been just then, made Draco think everything over.
Draco patted Harry's head, a gesture so unfamiliar yet so right. "You're okay, Harry," Draco said in a breathy voice, watching as a puff of cold air formed as he spoke.
"No," Harry said tightly, "no, I'm not okay at all. I don't know who those people are, I don't know what happened to cause the things I saw, and I have no clue as to why it's not alright to have a crush on you."
Draco's hand stopped dead midway down Harry's back as each word Harry spoke made itself understood in his mind. ... not alright to have a crush on... "W-what?" Draco croaked out, grabbing Harry's shoulders with shaky hands and made the Gryffindor look at him in the eyes.
Harry couldn't be serious, he just couldn't
..."Draco...?" Harry said nervously, seeing the disbelief clearly on Draco's face, his dark stormy eyes wild with emotions.
"You said... was it true, Harry? Do you really..." Draco couldn't finish the sentence, and instead stared at Harry as if willing the question into Harry's head, as if willing Harry to answer him with completely truth.
Harry seemed to understand, and nodded. "Yes," he whispered, eyes casting down, and in a unfocused whisper, he added, "very much."
The sounds that was heard in the night seemed to maximized ten times louder as Draco's hands slipped down Harry's shoulders, brushing against the cloak Harry was wearing. The gray eyes were darker than ever, frosted over as they stared past Harry, at something invisible. His heartbeat was pounding deafeningly in his ears as Harry's confirmation repeated itself over and over again in his mind.
No,
he thought wildly... desperately, this cannot be true. This cannot be...When Draco spoke next, his voice was even and calmer than he felt. "The two hours are up, you can go back to the Gryffindor Tower now."
Without waiting for Harry, Draco turned sharply, and strode swiftly towards the entrance into the castle, leaving the Gryffindor there, stunned at his actions, watching his retreating back.
The rain had finally poured.
P.a.R.t.S.i.X.t.E.e.N.d.O.n.E
c h a p t e r . T H R E E . e n d...
* to be continued in chapter 4 - the misunderstanding *
* * *
A/N: Well, what do you know, I finished this chapter so quickly! After I told you guys this chapter won't be out as fast because of school, I looked back at the calendar, and guess what? School won't start until another week! So here I am, writing my second A/N and saying how much you all had inspired me to write this chapter more quickly. Have you noticed something? Chapter three is longer, with only four parts. At this rate, I might be able to finish a story I work on out of the dozens I've been writing for the past one and half years. I've written over twenty stories of Harry/Draco and I haven't finished one, except the one-shots I wrote. And I remember I did write this one James/Lily story, my first work, and finished it! Except I lost it, :( Well, in the next chapter Draco will think it over, and Hermione and Ron know about this crush Harry have on Draco, and their reaction? Oh, just peachy... not! I'm thinking of putting in a little hint of what happened in their sixth year. Oh, and if you want to ask if it's just the memories-less Harry that has a crush on Draco, or the not memories-less Harry that has a crush on Draco, that'll have to wait, 'cause I'm not answering :p But I did drop hints like mad in all three of the chapters (mostly this chapter).
No promises on when the next chapter will be out, hopefully soon. Oh, and I also have another story I'm working on, Roses and Thorns, but right now I have writer's block, or rather, I have to write the whole chapter 1 and 2 again so I'm lazy, and writer's block is just a poor excuse. I rather like the plot of RaT (the initials spelled rat!), but I have no idea how to finish it. So I'll post it up whenever I do, okay?
Many thanks to those who read and reviewed, and those who read and didn't review. You all are the reason why I worked so hard on this chapter.
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