Author's Note: Alright, this story is back by popular demand. I'm hoping I still have an audience after so long. I am dreadfully sorry I neglected this story but SNaV (my other fic) was really clouding up my mind. Sorry to those who have no use for Hermione and Draco fics and didn't take to that one.
Anyway, this story is back with a vengeance. I hope to continue it to it's end AND finish SNaV as well. I apologize for any inconsistencies this new part of the story may have with the old one. Like you all know, it's been a long time.
Thank you to any of the old fans who are reading this for putting up with me, and thanks to any new readers who are taking the time to check this out. For anyone interested who doesn't know about this, I have an online journal (www.deadjournal.com/~kittenxmmx) that you may want to check out. If you do, leave a comment to let me know you're reading!
Anyway, now that I've babbled, onto the story! I hope you all enjoy the fruits of my twisted imagination.
"Hold me down - all the world's asleep
I need you now - you've knocked me off my feet
I dream of you - we talk of growing old
But you said please don't
Slide in baby - together we'll fly
I've tried praying - and I know just what you're saying to me
Now that you're mine
I'll find a way
Of chasing the sun
Let me be the one that shines with you
In the morning when you don't know what to do
Two of a kind
We'll find a way
To do what we've done,"
~Oasis, Slide Away
Could this be Harry's revenge? Draco wondered. He wandered alone through the halls, absently running his hands over his skin, feeling simultaneously dirty and glowing.
It made since. After all the hell Draco had put him through, it was perfect. In one night, Harry had turned the tables. He had Draco in the palm of his hand and was free to crush him if he so desired. But would he? Would he destroy Draco?
It was a sickening feeling to be at his knees in front of Harry. Anger bubbled in his gut. At himself for letting this happen, and at Harry for never hinting at his true character. How had Draco missed the evil in him? The destructiveness? One would think he'd be able to detect someone of his own moral fiber.
Draco came upon the door to the bathroom and opened it, creeping into the darkened room. He magically lit a single candle and enchanted it to follow him as he made his way across the green marble floors to the silver lined bathtub. He slowly turned the knobs and filled up the sunken bathtub.
He removed his clothes and bundled them up, but on second thought took them over to the fireplace across from the tub. The coals were still smolder from someone's late night bathing and it didn't take more than a minute to get the fire roaring again. Standing naked before the blazing flames, Draco tossed the clothes in like a ceremonial sacrifice, mentally cleaning himself of the memory of the pleasure this night had brought him. From now one, who wouldn't indulge in silly fantasies about the Golden Boy. He would never again consider any kind of relationship with him, as maybe he once had.
From this second forth, Harry was the enemy. Somehow, Draco would bring him down.
But right now he needed to wash away the smell of him and the feel of him. He sank down into the steamy water, letting his head go under, closing his eyes and letting his senses go dead. He let his emotions go dead. His sympathies. His compassion.
All he felt was hate.
He hated the fucking golden boy. He hated him with all his being. And he was going to do something about it.
*~*~*
Harry scrambled down the hall, half tripping and dropping the pile of books held loosely in his arms. Cursing, he bent to scoop them up, gathering a few pieces of escaped parchments. He resumed running, feeling tired and flustered. Very strange indeed. Last night was fuzzy to him. He'd awoken this morning, nude in his bed with not much idea of how he'd gotten there. He'd had a strange, bitter taste in his mouth. He tried to remember the night before. He remembered up until dinner time when Draco had stromed out of the Great Hall, but after that was a mystery. Had he fallen asleep early or something?
Suddenly his lips started to tingle. He remembered something. A feathery memory tickled him. A warm sensation filled his stomach.
He felt…something. Just something. He didn't know what. He had the distinct feeling that something had happened. He felt the presence of a memory that wasn't quite accessible.
Oh well, he thought. He couldn't remember and it probably wasn't important anyhow. He must have came back from dinner and been stressed about what happen to Draco and gone to sleep. No big deal. Right now, though, he was going to be late for Potions and that was something he really needed to worry about.
He entered the room and dropped his books next to a sleeping Ron. His head shot up, his hair plastered to one side of his forehead.
"Huh?" he gasped, blinking and looking around. His eyes focused on Harry and he frowned.
"Why'd you wake me up?" he demanded.
Harry shrugged, "I didn't mean to. You tired too?"
Ron nodded, "Spent all night finishing up that essay for Herbology. I'll tell you, it was a bitch. Had to fill up five rolls of parchment," he shook his head, "I had to write really big."
Harry slapped his forehead, "Damn it, I didn't get that done."
Hermione, overhearing them from her seat just across from them, turned and shook her head. "Harry, that's a big part of our grade in that class. How could you have forgotten to do it?"
Harry went silent.
"Well?" Hermione asked, raising one eyebrow.
"I…I guess I was occupied by something else," Harry stammered, feeling even more confused. Why had he gone to sleep when he knew he had homework to do? He suddenly thought of Malfoy started to scan the room for him.
"What could so important that you'd risk destroying your career as a student?" Hermione demanded haughtily.
Harry's eye's fell on the Draco's empty seat. Was he skipping again? His eyes darted around the room again.
"Well, Harry?"
There. There he was, seated all the way across the room. He had his head lowered over some book, with his hair falling over his face. Funny, Draco didn't strike him as a reader. And what in hell was he doing over there? If Harry didn't know better, he'd say he was avoiding him. Was he embarrassed about last night? Or could it have something to do with the faint memory that was nagging Harry in the back of his mind, seeming just out of his grasp?
"Harry, what in hell are you looking at? Are you going to answer?" Hermione interrupted.
"Huh?" he asked, snapping his head back to Hermione.
She narrowed her eyes at him, "You've been acting weird, Harry."
"I…"
Suddenly, there was a bang. They all looked forward to find Snape frowning at his desk, whapping his wand onto his desk.
"I'll have all of your attention now," he growled, eyeing Harry.
Harry closed his mouth and shifted forward. Snape continued to stare at him for a few seconds before turning away. Harry snuck a look over at Draco.
To his surprise, the boy was staring back with a look of malice on his face. Startled, Harry mouthed 'what?' Draco turned, sending his hair fanning out like a white halo.
A strange feeling settled in Harry's stomach. Something had happened last night…
*~*~*
"Harry, would you listen to me for two seconds?" Hermione snapped, walking hastily after Harry as he stalked across the grounds. He waved his hand at her absently.
"Not now," he muttered.
"No, now! I want you to tell me what's going on."
"Nothing is going on. I just need to go do something."
Hermione darted in front of him and put her arm on his shoulder, stopping him. She glowered at him, her black coffee eyes ablaze. There was no ignoring Hermione. She just wouldn't have it.
"I want you to sit down and tell me what's going on," she repeated.
"No. You wouldn't understand. Anyway, I don't even know what happened. I can't remember."
"Can't remember what? What on earth are you babbling about?" she asked.
"I don't know. Just forget it."
"No!"
Harry chewed his lip and looked at her. She stood a head below him, petit and curvy. Her frizzy hair had turned thick and luxurious over the years and her face was soft and feminine. Still, her good looks increased her popularity with the boys. Frankly, they were terrified of her. Hermione was a force to be reckoned with, that was for sure.
Harry sighed. "Hermione…it's a long story. I can't tell you here."
She frowned and though for a moment. "Well, can you tell me later at the Three Broom Sticks? We could sneak off before dinner."
Harry nodded, just eager to get away from her, "Sure. Fine. I'll see you there."
She looked at him again, her eyes searching. Then she nodded once and turned on her heel and took off.
Well thank God for small miracles anyway.
Now, back to the matter at hand. Harry had to find Draco. And he had about a half an hour to do so before he had to met Hermione.
He turned in a circle, trying to figure out where Draco might go. Well, considering the look he shot Harry this morning, probably someone he thought Harry wouldn't be. Hmm…
"Crabbe, shut it, would you? Honestly, what are you on about?"
Harry snapped around, looking for the source of the familiar voice. He spotted Draco standing next to the stone wall of the castle with Crabbe and Goyle, looking irritated.
"Hey, Malfoy," he called before he could stop himself.
Draco shot him a death look and promptly dismissed Crabbe and Goyle before hurrying off himself.
"Wait!" Harry called lamely, wondering why he was running after the blonde boy. Well, he knew he had to find out what had happened between them. The memory was ever present in his mind, but none the less still unattainable. Why on earth couldn't he remember? He was convinced now that something was up.
"Malfoy!"
Malfoy pulled to a stop and paused before he flung himself around to face Harry. He looked Harry over in one quick sweeping glance and let his eyes settle on Harry's. He seemed to be searching for something on his face.
"Malfoy, I wanted to ask you…" Harry began.
Draco cut him off, "What do you remember about yesterday?"
Harry's mouth dropped open, "That's what I wanted to ask you. I can't…I don't know what happened yesterday and for someone reason I feel like…"
"Do you remember what happened at dinner?" Draco asked slowly, as if talking to a five year old.
"Well, yes…"
"And after?"
"That's were it gets fuzzy. I think maybe I fell asleep, but-"
"Well, you probably did," Draco snapped. Harry noticed that the boy looked somewhat relived. Draco shifted the books in his arms and Harry notised the one he'd been reading in Potions. His eyes went to the spine, trying to read the fading gold title. Draco noticed and readjusted so Harry the book was no longer in view.
Harry stared at Draco a moment, looking into his silver eyes. He felt a sudden jolt, as if he'd been pitched into the air momentarily. A picture came to form in his mind. He saw Draco with a damp face, glittering in candle light. He felt a rush of emotion and then another picture came to him, this one bringing a blush to his face.
He saw himself rocking up and down over top of a pale, lithe body. White hair was spilled into his hands. The head turned and Harry saw a pair of storm cloud colored eyes.
The same eyes he was looking into right now.
Draco's face twitched and he backed away.
"Goodbye, Harry," he said hastily, then he turned and dashed away, across the grounds.
Harry stood, frozen in fear. He felt what it may have been like to stand at the scene of a crime. He knew something had happened here, but what?
What, what, what?
WHY couldn't he remember?
*~*~*
"You can't remember anything?" Hermione asked, squeezing her mug between her small hands.
Harry had already decided not to tell her about the brief memory he'd had while looking at Draco.
He shook his head.
Hermione scowled into her butter beer. "It has to be some kind of potion," she said.
"What?!" Harry nearly shouted.
"Someone gave you something to wipe out your memory of the night," Hermione said, sure of herself.
"Why? Why would someone do that?"
She shrugged, "You said yourself that you felt like something happened."
Harry's mouth dropped open but no words came. He shook his head in disbelief. What could have happened that would prompt someone to do this? He suddenly felt panic grip him.
"Hermione, you have to figure out what they used. You have to help me figure this out."
She nodded and placed her hand over his, "Of course, of course. I'll do whatever I can."
Harry nodded, for once not feeling at all comforted by his friend.
*~*~*
Draco leaned on the window sill of the open window, feeling the cool breeze of the approaching winter. The air smelled fresh and summery still, but he knew it wouldn't for long.
It was dark out. Not quite night, more like twilight. The stars were scattered about.
Draco's thoughts were on Harry.
What he'd done was wrong. For the first time in his life, he felt the wrath of guilt.
But it had to had to be done. It had to. He hadn't had a choice. He couldn't be at the mercy of anyone. He simply couldn't live that way, not even for one day. So he'd done what he had to.
So why then did it feel so criminal? Why had his stomach seized up at the sight of Harry looking confused and worried? Why did he care?
It wasn't because of Harry, he told himself. In fact, he'd been telling himself that over and over again all night. But it was the truth.
But then, the truth was so complicated now…
.
