Next part! I know I'm not updating regularly like I used to, but I'm trying everything I can to continue this story, in between all the things happening in life. I hope you like the chapter, and thank you for all the reviews! You rock ^-^

Chapter 9
Step back

"And now everything just feels disconnected"

- Harry Potter, Deathly Hallows -

Harry tried to push Malfoy off, but since they were both hiding under the Invisibility Cloak, he couldn't get rid of the blonde. They were standing near the Library, in a quiet corner. Harry had wanted to go see Hermione, when Malfoy had pulled the Invisibility Cloak over his head. He had gone and got it out of Harry's trunk, but it was impossible to remain angry for long.

"Stop it," Harry whispered, a smile from ear to ear giving away his amusement.

"Come on, Potter. You know you want it," Malfoy whispered seductively. His long fingers had found their way under Harry's shirt, goosebumps making Harry's body alert.

"Someone might hear us." Harry looked around the corridor, which was deserted apart from one student turning around the corner.

"They won't. Come here," Malfoy muttered. Harry couldn't keep his hands off the boy any longer. Harry massaged Malfoy's shoulders and leaned in to capture his lips. When Malfoy pushed him up against the wall, a deep moan escaped from Harry's mouth. The Invisibility Cloak was too small for the two of them. Their legs were probably showing, or some part of Harry's elbow, but right now, the only thing on Harry's mind was the boy in front of him. He deepened the kiss, their tongues meeting gently, but urgently.

It was hot under the Cloak. Their kisses became more and more intense, their surroundings dissolving. Soon, Harry's clothes were unnecessary. He tugged at Malfoy's shirt, trying to get it off without the Cloak slipping off of them. His heart was beating so loud he was afraid that everyone inside the Library would hear it.

"We should go somewhere else," Harry managed to whisper in between a kiss.

"Shush," Malfoy replied. He was fumbling with Harry's trousers. His hands slipped down his pants, and Harry let out a deep moan, leaning into Malfoy's strong chest. The blonde was everywhere around him, and Harry found it hard to control his breathing.

"Harry? Is that you?" Hermione asked. Harry pushed Malfoy's hands away, horrified. This could not be happening. Hermione should be studying in the Library, not catching them snogging in the hallway.

"Er… Hermione?" Harry pulled the Invisibility Cloak of his head and faced his friend's questioning face.

"What are you doing? Is Draco underneath that Cloak?" She sounded an awful lot like Molly Weasley catching Fred and George in one of their pranks.

"No," Harry lied unsuccessfully.

"You two need to get a room!" she reprimanded, rolling her eyes. "Whatever it is you need to do, don't do in it the hallway, Harry. You should know better." And then she marched off.


Harry turned around in bed. He dreaded getting up and going outside finishing up the Viaduct especially after having another one of these dreams. The day before, he and Malfoy had met up in the boathouse, but it hadn't turned out like Harry wanted. Maybe it was the part of Snape that had made him tense. Or the way Malfoy had talked about their memories, to which Harry couldn't relate anymore. Either way, Harry had left. He was constantly moving back and forth between confusion and recognition, and it was tiresome.

Harry knew his dreams revolved around his memories, and he dreamed about the blonde almost every night. Nevertheless, the memories didn't feel like they were his. It was as if he was looking through someone else's eyes, like reading a book. He knew exactly which emotions the main character had, he experienced them so vividly that it could have been his. But it weren't.

Spending time with Malfoy had been more fun that he could ever imagine. But was he enjoying it because of his memories, or because he really liked Malfoy? Did he spend time with the blonde because he didn't want to catch him crying in a corner again, or because he really wanted to spend time with him?

Harry heaved himself out of bed. Facing Malfoy today would be hard enough as it was, let alone be reminded of the disappointment in Malfoy's voice in the boathouse. He stumbled down the stairs and met up with Hermione.

"Good morning, Harry." Hermione was already reading a book. Harry's mind protested heavily against any kind of effort, and he gave the book a short glare.

"Morning."

"What happened between you and Malfoy last night?" she asked. Hermione never failed to notice something. She looked up from her book, giving him an expectant look.

"Why?"

"I saw you following him right after he left the table. Did you have fun?" Hermione assumed they had been fooling around, like that time she'd caught them tickling each other. Or like the dream he'd had tonight.

"It's not what you think, Hermione."

"What am I thinking?"

"I didn't snog him or anything. We just talked for a bit and then I left. It's too much. I can't do this, 'Mione. I just can't."

"Do what, Harry? What's bothering you?" Hermione put down the book and slowly took Harry in. She had a way of looking at you that made you feel like she was seeing right through you.

"Malfoy. I'm confused all the time. I can't tell the difference between what's real and what's not. I think I just need a break from it all."

"I thought you two were catching up."

"We were! That's not the point, Hermione! It's just, one moment I want to kiss him senseless and another moment I want to snarl at him for being him. It doesn't make any sense. I keep having these dreams that feel like memories, but they're not mine. And if they were mine, why are there other memories in my mind that have replaced them up until now? I'm tired of trying to find out which of the emotions I'm feeling are mine."

"They're all yours, Harry. I don't know how it works for you, but like I said, normally someone does not recover his memories unless the caster gives them back. To make sure the subject doesn't think he forgot about something they replace the memories, but slightly modified. What Lucius did to you wasn't easy. He replaced all your memories of Malfoy for resembling moments. So yes, the memories are yours, Harry. They're just slightly changed."

"So, I need to find out which ones are changed and which ones are not." Harry looked puzzled. How was he going to do that? Did he want to do that?

"I'm not sure. I had expected that you'd get them back while time passed. In fact, I thought you were doing better."

"I'm not. It's getting worse. The more dreams I have, the more confused I get." Harry let his shoulders hang, his face saddening. He didn't want to disappoint his friends, nor Malfoy.

"Dreams? You have dreams?" Harry shrugged in reply. "You didn't tell me about that!"

"I know. They're about Malfoy. And I don't feel like talking about them. First I thought I was confused, but then I realised they must be memories. But I don't know what to do with them. The longer I'm around Malfoy, the more dreams I have."

"Oh, Harry. I didn't know. Draco told me you were improving. Maybe you need to take a step back for a while."

"How? Malfoy's always around."

"Maybe he has to give you some time and stay away." Harry thought about that for a while. It was a comforting thought, but then again, he didn't want Malfoy to stay away. He'd become so used to his presence that it would feel strange not to have him around. Ron came bouncing down the stairs and met up with them, cutting off their conversation.

"Ready?" he asked impatiently. Harry and Hermione got up to join Ron and headed for the Great Hall together. There were still so many questions unanswered, and all Hermione had done was make Harry doubt even more.

Malfoy was already sitting at the Gryffindor table. Harry felt a familiar tug in his stomach upon seeing the blonde head. He took his seat next to the Slytherin and grabbed the pumkin juice. "Hi Malfoy," Harry greeted.

"Hi, Potter." Just the sound of Malfoy's voice caused a whole string of confusing feelings and images to rush through his body. Harry took a sip from his juice. He was waiting for Malfoy to say something about the day before, but instead, the man started talking about Hogwarts. "Are you looking forward to coming back for an eight year?"

"I think so. It's not like we have much choice right?" Harry hadn't really thought much about his last year at Hogwarts. Before the War, finishing school wasn't important enough to make it to the list of 'subjects to worry about', so it hadn't really crossed his mind.

"No. We don't. It'll be good to fall back in the old routine before moving on to different lives." Malfoy spooned some eggs and bacon onto his plate and offered the bowl to Harry, which he refused with a curt shake of his head.

"I don't think it'll resemble the old routine. It's filled with terrible memories. Especially now that we've been around here fixing everything." A lot of students had passed away during the War and would never be able to return to Hogwarts. The school itself would never be the same again after being demolished. And without Dumbledore, Hogwarts couldn't really feel like Hogwarts. Harry reached over for the cereal, trying to stop his thoughts.

"Maybe, but there's hope, Potter. Hope for a future." A future. Was that why Malfoy had brought up next year? To talk about their future together. Harry didn't say anything and started eating. He was drowned in his thoughts, a cloud burst of suppressed concerns flooding his brain. He'd been so caught up with finding out why his friends thought he was dating Malfoy that he'd forgotten to think about everything else. But now that the end of the reconstruction was nearing, it all came back like a sledgehammer blow.

Maybe it would be better to take a step back. Better for both of them.

To be continued…