The landline clicks off. Pansy sighs, picks at her cuticles and bites her lip.

"Whoa, are you actually…" Justin gasps. "You're…concerned for another human being? This is astounding! Luna, are you seeing this?"

"Don't tease her," Luna says, but she's giggling.

Pansy groans, throwing a cushion at Justin, who catches it right before it knocks over his beer can. "Hey, watch it," He says seriously. "This equipment isn't cheap, you know."

"Whatever. Can I go?" Pansy asks.

"Why? Something up with the boyfriend?"

"Something's definitely 'up,' but it's hard to get a straight answer out of him," Pansy replies. "I don't know how long I'll be gone for."

Justin exchanges a look with Luna, gold-rimmed glasses reflecting the lamplight. "You know what? I think we're good here. The program's basically running without me at this point."

"What're you here for, then?" Pansy asks cheekily.

"I know it's a lot to ask from you, but don't be a smartass. I'm saying you can leave!" Justin beams, and Pansy suspects it's more at the prospect of being practically alone with Luna than Pansy helping her boyfriend.

"Alright, I get it." Pansy laces up her boots, throwing on another coat over her leather jacket and a black scarf. She pauses at the door. "Thanks, Justin."

"No problem. Now go before I have a heart attack from your politeness." Justin waves her off. As the door closes, he kisses Luna gently on the nose. "Just you and me, princess."

Luna smiles, embracing him. The two, entangled in the warmth of their joint solitude, are oblivious to a wretch's world crumbling a few feet away.

"Harry dearest, I'm waiting for you to fuel my narcissism."

A grin creeps across Harry's lips at the sight of him, the product of confidence, bleach, and dye, posing before him like an enthusiastic model. Draco's hair is evenly, bright blue - Harry wouldn't have been able to tell it apart from a professional job.

"It looks amazing. You matched your sweater."

"I did, didn't I?" Draco smirks as he settles himself onto Harry's lap. A pale hand reaches up, mussing his dark hair as he leans in for a kiss.

I could stay like this forever.

December whirls in full force outside the window. A copper dragon roars in miniature on top of the bookshelf. Blankets in shades of gray, red, and green, ward off the chill. Harry feels warm, his fingertips threading through the short strands of Draco's hair, lips brushing against his neck…

Harry opens his eyes, suddenly remembering.

"My little blueberry."

"Huh?" Draco laughs, hands halfway up his shirt.

"You're blue, like a blueberry." The words are robotic, recited, nothing like they sounded the day Harry spoke them.

"I look nothing like a blueberry." Said with a chuckle, good-natured, but not without bite.

This is the Draco Harry loves. This is who he misses, who was taken away from him with a couple of fancy electrodes and a broken heart with nothing to lose.

Nothing, except for you.

"Blueberry." A nickname, used sparingly, privately. "Draco. I can't lose you."

Who called Draco Blueberry? Harry wonders. Villainous invisible girl. DON'T YOU DARE-

Bright eyes clear as pools. Harry can see all the way to the bottom. "What's wrong?" Draco asks.

The sunlight from the window shudders from the abnormality of his off-script speech.

"I'm scared." Harry's voice comes in a trembling whisper, as if he's the one disappearing. He interlaces his hand with Draco's, skin against skin. Draco, straddling him, is warm, sensual, and reassuring.

So what if this is my imagination. It feels real enough.

"Of what?" He cups his face, fingers brushing against dark stubble. "Harry, love, you can talk to me. About anything."

"I'm scared of…" Losing you forever. But if Harry says it aloud, then… "I'm sorry I ever hurt you, Draco. I want to make this work."

"So do I." That's Draco's mistake, making a false promise, and the reality of it all crashes upon Harry. Draco doesn't want to make this work.

You erased me. You looked up a goddamn facility and erased me.

"How could you do this to me?" Harry whispers, and he's crying now, tears slipping through Draco's fingers. "I love you!"

I love you, too.

Those are the words he wants to hear. But it doesn't matter if they're true or not, because Draco's lips, his voice, his eyes, have dissolved into nothing.

Pansy can handle an angry, sad, tired, or confused boyfriend. Only a few weeks into their relationship, however, she doesn't think she could handle all those emotions at once.

Unfortunately for her, that's exactly what her boyfriend is, when he's tipsy.

"Fucking finally," Draco Malfoy says, without venom, when he opens the door.

"Uh…hi." Pansy frowns as he turns away, running a shaking hand through his pink hair, leaving her to close the door. "Jeez. What's up with you?"

"What's up with me? What's up with me?" The question seems to be one that he's asking himself, as he wanders into his bedroom with Pansy on his heels. "Great question. For Christ's sake, Pansy…" Draco groans, pressing his hands into his face as he flops onto his bed. "Everything is wrong with me!"

"Oh…" Pansy nervously taps the floor with the toe of her boot. She feels ill-equipped to deal with whatever crisis seems to be occurring. "Blueberry, what's wrong, exactly? Did something happen? Are you sick?"

"I just…I don't feel right." Draco removes his hands from his face, staring at the ceiling. His grey eyes are glassy. "I feel depressed, out-of-place, like I'm getting old too fast - I need a drink-"

"Wait." Pansy grabs his arm as he sits up. She catches a whiff of whiskey. "You're not making any sense. Just stay there." She takes his hands in hers, rubbing her thumbs gently over his knuckles. "It's okay. Breathe."

And he does, slowly, eyes closed, body trembling.

Her voice, soft, continues, "You're safe here. We're both safe. Keep breathing, Draco."

Pansy waits a few moments before pressing her lips to his hands. Draco's eyes open, and he smiles.

"You know how to make me feel better, darling. Not many people do."

"Yeah, well." Pansy clears her throat, unsure how to reply.

"I'm glad you're here." Draco leans down to kiss her forehead. "Sorry I had to drag you away, I know you were doing your job."

"It's no problem. They didn't really need me, anyway."

Pansy glances at her backpack, propped against the bed. She remembers what she has rattling around.

"I've got something for you," She says. Draco tilts his head. "Early Valentine's gift."

"Oh, you didn't-"

"I wanted to," Pansy interrupts. She unzips the bag halfway, concealing its contents from view. Her hand closes around a small, smooth box. "Here."

Draco takes the gift. "What is it?"

Pansy grins to hide her ignorance. "Open it and see." She hopes it's something good.

The box, pale green, is lined with velvet. Inside lies a silver clasp, in the shape of a dragon, its eyes set with sapphires. A piece of ear jewelry, maybe, Pansy thinks - she's never seen anything like it.

Luckily, Draco's eyes light up. "Wow, that's…interesting."

"Do you like it?" Pansy asks nervously.

"Yes. Yes, it's exactly the kind of thing I like." Draco smiles. "Thank you."

Pink hair, vaguely British, and obsessed with dragons. Pansy thinks she couldn't have snagged a more interesting person. And here he sits, thanking her, wrapped around her little finger.

Pansy slides her hand to the back of his neck and pulls him in for a kiss.

He tastes of sweet liquor, fingers tangling in her hair. Draco pulls Pansy up to meet him, and she straddles him, lost in his mouth and waist. Her hands rest on the waistband of his jeans. She fumbles with the zipper.

Draco gasps, almost soundlessly, and holds her back.

"What?"

"Erm…" There's something off in his gaze. Draco's hands clench as they fall to the bed. He glances away, thinking. "The Charles River is frozen this time of year."

Pansy's brow knits. "Huh?"

"Let's go!" Draco forces a manic smile. "Let's go, now, just the two of us. The stars are so clear there, and the ice is still and empty… It'll be nice."

The Charles River. It rings a bell. Pansy's eyes slide towards her backpack. She's sure she can find something to help her. "Alright."

It's still and beautiful and quiet, and you can see the stars much better there.

The hours-long drive is tense and silent. Pansy watches the town, then the dark countryside pass by. Draco's eyes are fixed on the road. Pansy manages to retrieve a page, torn at an edge, covered in someone else's scrawl, with a sketch of two people lying down, holding hands, gazing at the heavens.

Eternity passes, but eventually Pansy finds herself on a slippery shore, clutching Draco's hand.

"Small steps," he says, pale eyes luminous in the moonlight.

Pansy fights back her shivers and protests to join him on the frozen river. She gazes upwards but can hardly see the stars for the memorized words on her tongue.

"I could freeze to death out here with you."

Draco looks at her.

"I could freeze," Pansy continues, voice hollow, "And that would be all right. This might be where I die, anyway. And what better place than-"

"Stop."

"I could freeze to death out here with you," Harry says, breathless in the open air, the black, incomprehensible abyss, studded with jewels.

Draco snuggles closer, lilac hair peeking out from his green winter hat. "You're so dramatic," He says sleepily.

"I could freeze, and that would be all right. This might be where I die, anyway. And what better place than this?" Harry throws up an arm, scooping up starlight. As his hand falls, Draco catches it, leather glove curling.

"It's beautiful," He agrees. Their entwined hands lay over Harry's heart.

"This is one of my favorite memories," Harry says under his breath. The cold ice stiffens his muscles, chill piercing through his heavy coat. "I wish I could keep it."

He holds on to Draco until he fades.

The heel of his hand presses to his temple. He sits up, snow dusting his jacket. "This isn't right."

Pansy sits up, forehead creasing. "Blueberry, what's-"

"Leave me alone." Draco stands, shoving his hands in his pockets, shuffling off back towards the trees.

"Draco!"

Rain patters softly on the windowpane. A space heater sits on the floor of the apartment, blankets are piled messily, and candles glow on the shelves.

Draco, in a T-shirt, and Harry, in boxers, lay in each other's arms.

Without his glasses, Harry sees Draco as a blur, only able to focus on one feature at a time. His eyes, constant as an overcast sky. His lips, swollen and parted. The marks blooming like red and purple blossoms on his neck.

"Well, Potter." A smirk rests in the corner of Draco's mouth.

Harry grins impishly. The taste of him is still heavy on his tongue. "Well, Draco?"

A pause. Draco runs his fingers through Harry's hair. "You try so hard," He murmurs. "No one ever does, for me."

Harry traces his pale collarbone, listening to his still-shaky breath. "They should."

"It's more than sex for me." Draco touches his jaw, turning his face. "I mean…I know you know that already, but…" He wets his lips. "I want you to know how much you mean to me. You're everything I never thought I deserved, Harry Potter."

"You do." Harry brushes his thumb along Draco's cheek, and is only half-surprised to find a tear. "Christ, Draco, you deserve more than I could every give to you."

"It's okay." A smile, small, reserved for moments just like these. Moments that Harry wishes he could have a million of. "You're plenty for me."

If only I knew how much love I'd have for you. I would have held you much sooner.

Yet the years in England, the ocean between them, the painful efforts with women, then men - it made Draco who he is. Harry cherishes every inch of his past and present, every goddamn, miserable, witty, angry, pompous, aggravating, beautiful inch.

"I'll never leave your side." He won't break the promise. Not this time. Now, Harry adds another condition. "Anyone could take you to the ends of the earth, and I'd bring you back."

Draco scoffs quietly. "Who would take me?"

"Doesn't matter."

It doesn't matter how many people hold me down and pick you out of my brain. I'll come back for you, Draco. I swear I will. I'll put an end to all this.

The kisses are far from perfect, clumsy in their softness. Harry thinks it doesn't matter what Draco tastes like. His tongue, his lips, his dexterous hands laying bare, are all Harry knows.

Let me breathe you in. I'll take you with me.

The sheets are cozy, warm, and empty. Harry hands close around rosy fabric and air. "Draco?"

The rain thickens. The space heater turns off. Harry is cold, and alone.

"No. No, Draco!"

With his glasses back on, he can see the darkness in high definition.

"Please…Please, Patil, stop this. Stop it, please! I want to go back!"

He's curled in the blankets, in the snow. In the stars and sky.

"I WANT TO GO BACK!"

It's getting harder and harder to remember the precise blue shade of Draco's eyes.

"Please, I…"

He stands next to the round table in Dr. Padma Patil's office. She looks up at him, apologetic.

"I'm sorry, Mr. Potter, I thought you knew what you were signing up for."

The office is dim. Harry sees another version of himself, the day he recorded a tape for Patil. The past Harry sits as still as a statue, unaware of the people talking next to him.

"Can't you reverse it? Or at least stop it?"

Dr. Patil shakes her head grimly. "I really do apologize, Mr. Potter. This is not an easy procedure, emotionally. It will end, though. I can promise you that."

"No, it…it can't end!" Harry shouts in frustration, pulling at his hair.

Someone in a white lab coat comes in and grabs a stack of files. Their face is shadowed by dark, shoulder-length hair. "Sorry, 'scuse me."

"Hey! Who's that?" Harry cries.

"Oh, that? That's…" Dr. Patil shudders, and her reassuring voice changes to Draco's for a moment. "Pansy, darling Pansy."

"Pansy." Harry's jaw clenches. "You motherf-"

"Harry!" Draco, dressed for winter, appears at his side. "You're all wound up. What's wrong?"

"Draco!" Harry pulls him close, wrapping his arms around his waist, face buried in his lavender-scented hair.

"Oh - showing affection in public, are we?" Draco snickers, ruffling Harry's hair. "I'll let it slide for now." He kisses him on the cheek.

"Thank God." Harry never wants to let him go. "I thought you were gone."

"There's still time." Dr. Patil's voice, restored to its normal stern reassurance, cuts through their embrace. Harry breaks apart from Draco but keeps a tight hold on his hand. "You've known each other for…oh, what was it?"

"Since dear old '88," Draco replies, quirking an eyebrow at Harry.

"Twenty years is a lot to work through," Dr. Patil says, nodding. "I'm sure you'll think of something."

"We will." Brilliant, confident Draco doesn't lose his unfazed smirk. He has no idea what's coming.

Harry's not sure he has any idea, either.

The floor begins to tilt. The frozen Harry at the table disappears in a puff of smoke. The building trembles beneath them, and the lights flicker. Dr. Patil's brow furrows as her chair slides to the wall. "I may be a figment of your imagination, Mr. Potter," She says, voice wavering like radio static, "But that can't stop me from wishing you luck."

"Thank you." Harry squeezes Draco's hand. "Come on."

This is my mind, Harry thinks. Mine and mine only.

"There's a door in this wall," He says, pressing a hand against the plaster. The building groans; Draco clings to him, shifting to accommodate the slant.

"No, there isn't," Draco says, but Harry fumbles for the doorknob. A door is where it wasn't before. "Oh. How the hell did you…?"
"No time." Harry flings the door open with one hand and holds Draco with the other. "Jump!"
"Wha- AHHHHH!"

The void swirls with snowflakes. Harry cradles Draco close as they fall, wind whistling against their ears. Draco has stopped screaming, but he breathes rapidly, wide-eyed. The descent shows no sign of ending.

Then Harry feels it, like a million digital eyes watching them. Then tendrils of data begin to tug, gently, at Draco's coat.

"Back off," Harry growls.

The fall suddenly stops with an uncomfortable lurch. Harry stumbles forward, knees hitting a park bench. The momentum carries his torso over the top, and it's like he's been sucker-punched - Harry groans, catching his breath.

"I remember this," Draco says conversationally, and Harry, clutching his stomach, gets to his feet.

A delicate, gray-blue peeks through winter blanketing the sky. It takes a moment for the scenery to become familiar to Harry. Lush trees, their leaves in shades of orange, yellow, red, and green rustle in the autumn breeze. Birds chirp among the branches, but Harry can hear the telltale sounds of a city, too - cars honking, the footsteps of pedestrians.

Draco speaks Harry's thoughts aloud. "Central Park. That was a nice trip."

"We can't stay here." Panic, suffocating panic, spurs Harry to move, grabbing Draco's wrist.

"Potter!" Draco splutters as he nearly trips over an uneven section of sidewalk - a root forced its way beneath it. "Harry!"

They scatter a group of pigeons, sprinting between the trees.

"I need to get you away from here," Harry says, panting. He glances back at Draco, bemused, dressed in the cream-colored sweater and black jeans he wore the Saturday they were in New York City.

"What? Why?"

"Come on!"

Cracks grow in the cement beneath them, but Harry presses on, gritting his teeth and praying for solid ground.

The stone walkway turns to smooth tile. A clatter sounds as Draco hurriedly drops the handle of his suitcase. This must be when we went to Philadelphia to visit Dudley, Harry realizes. The train station's monitors for departures and arrivals flash aberrantly, from white to green to red.

"Harry, seriously-"

The memories rush by almost faster than Harry can register them, the clueless, content faces of past Harrys and Dracos blurring. Slow-dancing to Frank Sinatra in a candlelit apartment. Draco dropping off coffee for Harry at the police station's admin office. Frantic, angry sex on the kitchen counter. Draco falling asleep on Harry in a taxi, both stoned out of their minds after visiting Hermione and Ron. Sharing each other's ice cream cones in snowy weather. Draco coming in with muddy boots after Harry specifically told him not to. Candles blown out after a Back to the Future marathon.

"Stop it!"

Draco shoves Harry onto the damp, leaf-covered ground. Harry sits up immediately, heart pounding.

"Draco, we have to…" Harry's cut off by a kiss, shallow, and so sugary-sweet it leaves him dizzy.

Draco's frowning when he pulls away, kneeling next to Harry. "That was awfully cliché. But it was either kiss you or slap you, and I figured we'd be better off with the former."

Only Draco Malfoy would use "the former" in casual conversation. Harry almost cries, but he throws his arms around Draco instead, burying his face in his green cardigan.

"I love you," He murmurs.

Draco tuts, but he returns the hug. "I love you, too, you nut. Now calm down and tell me what's going on before I lose my bloody mind. Please." Harry's smile is hidden in his lover's shoulder, noticing, not for the first time, how Draco's accent comes out when he's upset or worried.

Harry pulls away, breathing in the autumn chill. Aspen, birch, and oak change from sturdy trunks to dainty twigs and colored leaves as they reach the sky. A few logs, blanketed in moss, line the path, which overlooks a small town. A church, a crowds of houses, a gas station, and a large factory stand in miniature below.

"Vermont," Harry says.

Draco rolls his eyes. "Yes, yes, we know. You were going to explain."

Harry sighs, hands falling to the leaves. "There's a place called Lockhart. They do…memory erasing."

He's sure that Draco, as a part of his mind, must know all this already. But Harry takes comfort in his apparent ignorance. He needs the time to talk, to gather his thoughts.

When Harry has finished, Draco doesn't speak for a long while. He looks out towards the town, facing away from Harry. For a moment, his image flickers, then returns to solidity.

"I think you just blew through a whole damn month of memories, Potter," Draco says, judgement painting his voice. Harry doesn't mind it. "Slow down, would you?"

Harry nods. "I'll try."

Draco turns to look at him. The sun is setting; the rosy light shines right through his face.

The fear in Harry's chest is growing familiar. Draco can sense it before he says anything.

"I'm disappearing." He sounds resigned. "I'll see you somewhere else, darling."

Harry takes deep breaths and closes his eyes. "See you." When he opens them, the stars are out. Draco is gone.