Chapter IV. Realization

"I need a word with you, Potter."

Harry was coming off the Quidditch field after another late evening practice, something he had picked up from former Captain Wood, who would have had the team out 24 hours straight if he could. Now that he was Captain, he understood Oliver's enthusiasm. Of course, Harry felt free on the Firebolt 4, completely in his element. It was the only place he felt comfortable in his own skin. And for now, that skin was soaked. A light rain had begun to fall during practice, and after several hours, Harry was dry no more.

"What about?" he barely glanced at Draco. He had been pushing the thoughts out of his mind that came to him now on a regular basis, memories he could not possibly have. It was bad enough to have his own, but Draco's too?

"What kind of spell did you curse me with, Potter?" Draco spat at him. "Trying to make me think you have it tougher than I? 'Show him how misreable your life is, make him grateful you saved him, appreciate what he has and all that rot.' Is that what this is? Well, fine. You made your point. Now make it stop!"

Harry stopped in mid stride, broom hanging from his hand, and turned slowly toward Draco.

"I wish I could," he whispered.

"Then do it!" Draco yelled.

"You don't understand," Harry's voice now rose. "I don't know what I did. The spell was supposed to put us both back up on the tower, but I got it wrong, said the wrong word, and I don't remember what I said or how to change it. All I remember is us falling into that cloud. And for your information," Harry cried as he leaned forward, "I don't enjoy having your memories either!"

Draco opened his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing would come. Harry was having HIS memories? What had he seen?

Harry turned to walk off, he was tired, he was dirty, and he needed a shower.

"Potter!" Draco cried after him. More softly, "wait."

Harry didn't look at him. "What?"

"Look, I'm...well, I didn't know, O.K.? I thought you did it on purpose. I'm..."

Harrry faced him.

Draco's voice softened. "I'm sorry, alright?"

Harry nodded. Was there anything to really say at this point?

"So what do we do now?" Draco asked.

"I've been going through some of the books in the library, and I found the spell I wanted to perform that night. I should have said "Reversio."

"Obviously, you didn't", Draco pointed out.

"Obviously." Harry mangaged a weak smile. "But as to what I did say, well, there are hundreds of variations, and so far, none of them say 'will reverse memories'. 'Course, some of them are a bit vague too, so who knows?"

Harry sat down next to the wall, pulling his legs up to him. "Do you remember anything about the fall?" He asked Draco.

Draco slid down the wall next to him. "Not really. I remember falling, and you holding me around the waist, but.... A short flash went through Draco's mind. He saw himself, standing on the tower, saw him starting to jump.

'No', he thought, 'Not Draco, not my Draco...'

My Draco?

"Malfoy," Harry half-shouted. "Are you alright?"

Draco dared to glance toward Harry. 'Uh, yeah. I'm fine. Just trying to remember, that's all."

"Any luck?" Harry asked. He was leaning toward Draco, searching for...for what? Draco swallowed hard. Don't think about it, he told himself. This was part of the reason you were on that tower, remember?

"No."

Harry started to get up off the floor, he was getting cold, and was still soaking wet. "We can look in the restricted section tomorrow," Harry offered. "There must be a book somewhere..."

Harry froze in mid-sentence. He was looking at a book, some book, held in his hand. He was barely aware of his surroundings, green velvet curtains pulled tight around the ancient four poster bed.

"Mmmmm...."

Harry was lying on silver sheets, his head thrown back in ecstasy as he slid his already wet hand up and down his throbbing cock.

Draco's cock.

Another few strokes, a glance at the book, and he came with a soft cry, sticky cum coating his fingers.

"Harry..."he whispered.

The voice wasn't his. He had never heard Draco's voice so soft, so sensuous... Harry picked up the book, a scrapbook. It was filled with dozens of photos, of articles from the Daily Prophet, anything and everything about The-Boy- Who-Lived. "Oh, yes..' he moaned." Harry..."

"Potter? Potter!" This time it was Draco's turn to shock Harry back to the present. Harry didn't move. He was all too aware of Draco, searching his face for answers. "I'm...I'm just tired, long day. I'll talk to you tomorrow." He turned toward Draco. "We'll get it fixed. It'll be alright."

Draco's face eased. "O.K. See you tomorrow."

Harry carefully pushed himself up from the floor, and headed for the showers.

He definitly needed one now.

End of Chapter IV.