I know it's been way too long! But thanks to TJ's review, I got the courage to take this up again and finally finish what I had started. I worked on this all week, put a lot of effort in it, so I hope you all like it! And if you want to, please leave a note to tell me what you think!

Enjoy!

Chapter 10
Last Kiss

"There, there. It's not really goodbye, after all."

-Dumbledore-

Harry burried his face in his hands. He was sitting next to the Vanishing Cabinet in the Room of Hidden Things. Today had passed like a blur. Having to work alongside Malfoy had been torture. He'd refused to talk to him, and the blonde quickly understood the message. It felt wrong to push him away, but then again, he didn't want to get closer to him either.

The more memories he got back, the more uncomfortable Harry had started to feel. At first, the emotions he experienced in his dreams had made him confused about Malfoy. He'd started to notice things about him that he hadn't noticed before. He started spending time with him, time that he actually enjoyed. And then the worries had come. Were the emotions he felt real? Would Malfoy still like him, even when he acted different than before? Would it ever be the same? And finally, Harry realized he should take a step back. Figure out what he really wanted not what he remembered.

Harry sighed. Did all of this make sense? Had Hermione been right about taking a step back? Harry squeezed his eyes shut and smashed a box from the desk next to him. Lucius was the cause of all this misery! If he hadn't erased his memory he wouldn't feel like a complete stranger in his own body. Harry opened his eyes again, and stared at the Vanishing Cabinet. Was this where it all had started? Was this where he had gotten to know Malfoy better, where he'd started to understand his side of the story and realised he wasn't like his father?

He heard footsteps behind him and looked up. It was Malfoy. The last person he wanted to see.

"What are you doing here?" Harry asked. He noticed his tone was cold and angry. Maybe because he felt cold and angry.

"I thought I might find you here." Malfoy approached him cautiously, as if he was a savage.

"Why?"

"You haven't spoken to me all day, Potter. What's the matter? Have I said something wrong?" Harry thought about the day in the Boathouse. "Fuck it, Potter. Honestly, sometimes I really don't care whether you get our memories back. I just want you back."Even though Harry didn't feel like chasing his memories either, something in that sentence had made him tense. He wasn't the 'Harry' Malfoy had known before. He made different decisions, thought different things. He didn't love Malfoy. He couldn't force himself to love him like he had done before. All he'd ever known was hate for the man – until Hermione and Ron had told them otherwise. But even then, his feelings for Malfoy felt distant and complicated. That wasn't love. It couldn't be.

And he realised that once Malfoy found that out for himself, he wouldn't want him anymore. Malfoy would hate him again, like he used to hate him during Hogwarts. Like Harry used to hate him.

"No. I…" Harry trailed off and looked at the black triangle-shaped cabinet. Malfoy had fixed it to bring the Death Eaters into Hogwarts and to kill Dumbledore. How could he be trusted? Harry also remembered helping the blonde fix the cabinet, and meeting with Dumbledore and Malfoy in the Headmaster's Office to talk about Voldemort's task and killing one of the most important men in Harry's life. Which one was the real one? "I can't do this anymore," Harry spoke at last.

"Do what?" Malfoy's voice sounded desperate, as if he was trying to hold on to something that was fading already.

"I can't love you like I did before, Malfoy. I tried. It just doesn't feel right."

"You don't have to, Potter. We can just start from square one again." Malfoy took a hesitating step forward, as if he wanted to cross the distance between them, but he didn't touch him. His shoulders hung down, as if the weight of the world was pressing down on them.

"There is no square one. Do you think I don't see your longing looks? I can't live up to the person I was before. There's too much going on lately." Harry threw his arms in the air, feeling frustrated.

"Then what do you want to do?" Malfoy's eyes were watery grey pools as he stared at Harry.

"I don't know. I want to be on my own and figure it all out. What it all meant. How it continues. In two weeks' time, Hogwarts will be filled with new students, lessons will start again. There is no room for this. I have to think about what I'm going to do with my life."

"So you don't want me to be part of it?" The question hung in the air like a poisonous wave.

"No. I don't." Harry looked at his feet, unable to meet Malfoy's silver gaze.

"Then this is goodbye?" Malfoy gritted his teeth to avoid his lips from trembling, but Harry heard the shakiness in his voice.

"I think it is", he whispered in reply. Tears were forming in his own eyes. He didn't know why it hurt so much, or why he felt as if he was making the biggest mistake ever, but when Malfoy turned around, he didn't call him back. He didn't run after him to stop him from disappearing out of his life for good. He just stared at the Vanishing Cabinet.

When he was positive that Malfoy had left, Harry got up. Tears were streaming down his face, and he could hardly see the cabinet through the blurry wave. Then Harry hit it. The pain that streamed through his hand made him feel alive and numbed the pain he was feeling in his heart. He hit again. The Vanishing Cabinet shook unstably as Harry continuously lashed at it, until the wood splintered and it gave away. Harry continued smashing and kicking until he run out of energy. There were no tears left.

"What's going on?" Hermione asked for the umpteenth time that evening. Harry hadn't said much during lunch at the Great Hall, and afterwards, they'd got the afternoon off. Harry had gone outside to the Quidditch pitch to clear his thoughts. The Quidditch pitch was looking really nice already. When he'd gotten back, Hermione had looked at him with a knowing look – and Harry knew it was only a matter of time before Hermione found out the cause of the matter.

"You've been weird all evening. You hardly ate! There were pork chops and I know you love pork chops, Harry." Hermione had been pretending to read a book, casting sideward looks every 30 seconds to see if Harry was about to say anything yet. Harry sighed in reply.

"I just wasn't hungry, that's all." Harry stared at the fireplace, fumbling with his robes.

Ron looked up from his chess board, shooting Hermione a tired look. "Leave him alone, Hermione. He's just tired. It's been a rough few weeks for all of us." Ignoring Ron completely, Hermione inspected Harry's face for any signs that might help her investigation.

"It had nothing to do with Malfoy sitting at the Slytherin table?" Hermione quirked an eyebrow and it seemed like she could see straight through him. She put down her book and turned towards him, whereby Ron faced her back. The Redhead shot him a compassionate look, rolling his eyes demonstratively to indicate he found Hermione equally annoying. That didn't stop the smartest witch of Hogwarts. "Harry. You can tell me if something happened."

"It's nothing. Malfoy and I are taking a step back, that's all." Saying it out loud made it sound definite and cold. If this was really what he needed, why was he feeling so uneasy? Why was his stomach so upset?

"How did he take it?" Hermione's concerned gaze made Harry's eyes fill with tears, and a lump was forming in his throat. He didn't want to do this. Why couldn't she just drop it and leave him be? Harry merely shook his head in reply, unable to put Malfoy's reaction to words. "Well, he likes you, Harry. Of course he wasn't jumping to hear the news. But it'll give you the time to work things out for yourself. You should give him some time to get his head around that too."

"Yeah. You're right, 'Mione. It just didn't feel right. It doesn't feel good now either, but at least I've got a choice. It felt like I was living someone elses life."

"Malfoy will understand." Hermione's kind brown eyes tried to reassure him. Harry averted his gaze and stared back into the fire. He wasn't so sure of that. Malfoy was devastated. The way his silver eyes had darkened with sadness tore Harry's heart up. Harry could only imagine how it would feel like to have someone you love say they don't want to see you anymore. Harry had only lost people that loved him until the end. Nobody had ever stepped up to him to tell him that they didn't want anything to do with him anymore. That must've been a real blow in the face.

Ron got up and nudged Harry. "Come on, mate. Let's go play some Snappoker or Gobstones or something. It'll get your mind off of things." Harry gratefully followed his best friend up the corridor to the Boy's Dormitory. This was exactly what he needed right now.

Harry tiredly rubbed his eyes. He hadn't been able to sleep tonight. Malfoy's reaction at the room of requirement was constantly replaying in his head. Now that he was free of the Malfoy curse, he couldn't stop wondering about it. He'd hoped that once he stopped searching after his own memories, they wouldn't haunt him anymore. But they kept coming. And the worst part was, he could no longer blame it on Malfoy. He was doing this to himself.

"Harry. You should eat." Hermione looked at him intently from across the Gryffindor table. Ron was stuffing himself with everything he could find and only stopped for a short moment to look at the two of them before continuing. Harry poked his cereal. He wasn't hungry. He'd much rather go back to bed than spend the day on the construction site with Malfoy.

All of a sudden a big brown owl flew into his bowl of cereal, spilling the milk everywhere. Harry just swallowed back a word that would've earned him a ten minute rant from Hermione and offered the owl a dark glare. Hermione shook her head in disbelief.

"That was worse than Errol," Harry grunted. He untied the letter from the paw of the creature, but it wouldn't fly away. Who would send him a letter? Perhaps the bird was so stupid that it had delivered the post to the wrong person. Harry folded the note open and saw a neat handwriting.

It was from Malfoy.

Dear Potter

I will be honest with you. I miss you. I have loved you for quite some time and it is not easy to deal with the fact that you do not feel the same about me.

However, I have behaved like a complete fool and I apologize if I might have offended you in any kind of way. I am sorry for my inappropriate reaction yesterday.

Love,

Draco

Harry read the note twice to let the message sink in. The fact that the owl didn't move meant that Malfoy had told the bird to wait for a reply. But what should he say to that? I'm sorry too? I have no idea why I said that?

The bird pecked at Harry's hand for a reply, all the while, Hermione was observing him attentively.

"What?" Harry exclaimed, frustrated by both of them.

"Who's it from?" Hermione pointed with her fork to the letter.

"Who do you think?" Harry grumbled sarcastically. "You have a quill?" Hermione searched in her handbag for a second then handed him a brown quill and a bottle of ink, a knowing look on her face.

"Thanks," Harry muttered darkly before starting to write.

Dear Malfoy

I'm not sure what to write. I don't hate you or anything. I just need some time to figure things out for myself. I didn't mean to hurt you.

Harry

He quickly attached the note to the owl's paw again, which was moving impatiently, so it took a lot longer than it would have when Hedwig was still alive. A painful pang sliced through his heart as he thought of the first birthday present he'd ever had. When he needed to send an owl now, he always used Ron's owl. And when the Owlery would be open again, he could always use an owl from there. Hermione had offered to give a new one, but Harry refused. There would only be one Hedwig.

He put his spilled cereal aside – Hermione quickly cast a charm to rinse the bowl, as if to save the House elves some work – and he filled his plate with eggs and bacon instead. He started nibbling on some toast and spooned his eggs in his mouth as he waited for a reply. If there would be one. He cast a quick glance backwards to the Slytherin table to where Malfoy was sitting, but he couldn't distinguish if he was writing back or not. The only thing he saw was a floating white mop of hair.

He kept himself busy while waiting for an answer, which was very odd, as he didn't even know if the blonde would reply. He didn't even know if he wanted a reply. Before he could decide whether he expected Malfoy to write him back or not, the owl landed on the table again. Luckily for Harry, the bird had left his eggs alone.

Harry quickly detatched the note and fingered it open.

Harry

I'm glad you replied. I thought you'd be too stubborn to do so, but you surprised me. I'm really sad about this whole thing, especially because I know my own father did this to us.

The only thing I desperately want before we say goobye forever is kiss you one last time.

Would you do me that favour?

Draco

Harry got goose bumps all over his body. The thought of kissing those pink lips made his heart speed up. A pleasant stir in his belly told him something was definitely wrong with him. Was he looking forward to this? Dreams and memories flooded his brain, making his mind go fuzzy.

Harry wanted to curse Malfoy. It was all his fault! This entire situation was completely his fault. How did he even manage to actually write such things down? Harry could hardly think them. His thoughts were unordered and it was impossible for him to concentrate on the breakfast anymore. He quickly wrote the words 'fine' down and sent the owl back.

"What does he want?" Hermione asked.

"Nothing," Harry lied. The girl could see straight through his lie, but didn't question it any further. His stomach was turning with nervousness as he saw the owl fly off again. He wished he hadn't eaten all those eggs, but it was too late now.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Malfoy get up and leave the Great Hall. It was as if Harry had just swallowed a bag of ice cubes. Shakily, he got up. His nerves were killing him and Harry didn't even know why. It was worse than having his name pulled out of the Goblet of Fire. He walked all the way to the Entrance. It felt as if everyone was staring at him, knowing he was going outside the Great Hall, to not only kiss a boy, but a former Death Eater as well. When he had finally reached the big doors, his legs felt like jelly. Malfoy was waiting there for him. His eyes were as wistful as a sad cloudy day. Harry's heart sank into his stomach. He couldn't do this. This would make everything worse.

Malfoy reached out for him, gently grabbing hold of his arm. His eyes were fixed on Harry's lips. Harry licked them nervously, then started leaning forward. Their lips touched and Harry slowly closed his eyes, the last thing he saw were blonde eyelashes fluttering shut. The spot where Malfoy's hand way laying was scorching. His touch was tender and sweet. His lips tasted like freshly baked croissants and something that could only be defined as Malfoy. Automatically, Harry lifted his hands up to Malfoy's shoulder, slowly caressing the collarbone, following the trail inside his neck. He then moved up Malfoy's muscular neck, his hands meeting the soft silk hair. He enjoyed the texture while their lips kept grazing. Malfoy's hand slipped around Harry's waist, his fingers crawling under his shirt and touching his bare skin. Harry pulled Malfoy's hair softly, a moan slipping from his lips. He leaned in closer, their chests touching. He could feel Malfoy's hardness through his pants. The kiss deepened and...

Then Malfoy pulled away. Harry opened his eyes, meeting watery pools of grey.

"That was... amazing," Malfoy whispered sombrely. His words were hardly audible. If Harry hadn't been standing this close, he wouldn't have heard what he was saying. "Goodbye Potter." His voice broke in the last sentence.

Harry was left dumbfounded in the Entrance as Malfoy descended to the Dungeons. His body was still racing because of the aftermath of the excitement. Everything calmed down slowly. As everything turned back to normal, it downed on him. This was their last moment. Their last goodbye.

This was what he had wanted.

To be continued...

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