Word Count: 924

~ Chapter 17 ~

What is your most treasured memory?

The middle of the night found Harry sitting in the living room, a cup of tea in one hand as he flipped through a book propped up on his thigh. He wasn't surprised that he'd woken sweating and panting.

Despite the attack being little more than kids with a grudge, it was still an attack, and it had caused an uncomfortable reel of flashbacks to haunt his dreams.

Kingsley's letter had been brief and to the point. Harry had been seen—his disillusionment charms had never been the strongest, and they'd had the misfortune to travel over a patch of wizard-owned land that had been mapped in a similar way to the Marauder's map.

They'd thought to scare him, aiming for fear not death, though Kingsley was pushing for attempted murder regardless. If Harry had fallen from his broom, or been hit with a spell in the air, he could have easily died.

Draco had been surprised that the attack hadn't been aimed specifically at him, and he'd been even more surprised when Harry wasn't particularly angry about it. As far as Harry was concerned, it was people being stupid, and they'd undoubtedly learn their lesson when the Aurors and the Wizengamot was done with them.

He was almost to the end of his book when he heard footsteps on the stairs. He wasn't surprised that Draco was up either; it had seemed to scare him more than it had Harry. Then again, given that Draco had lived among those that wore those masks, it wasn't hard to understand.

Draco shuffled into the living room and looked utterly unsurprised to see Harry already there.

"Do you want more tea?"

Harry glanced at his cup to see how much was left—not a lot—then drained it and handed it over to Draco. "Thanks."

"Uh huh. Next question is about your most treasured memory. Indulge me, Potter, I need some happiness."

Harry snorted, but nodded as Draco wandered off in the direction of the kitchen.

His most treasured memory… he wasn't sure he could just pick one. Two were coming to the forefront of his mind, and he considered which was the happiest. He twisted his lips thoughtfully.

When Draco returned with two steaming mugs, he wasn't any closer to a decision.

Draco curled up in the armchair, both hands wrapped around his mug. "Treasured memory, go."

Harry chuckled. "I can't decide between two, so either you go first, or I'll have to tell you both of them."

"Tell me both," Draco requested softly.

"The first is when Hagrid came and liberated me from the Dursleys. We were in this mad little hut, on a rock in the middle of the sea—my uncle decided to try and outrun the letters, it was a disaster—and Hagrid got mad because my uncle made a derisive comment about Dumbledore. Hagrid gave my cousin a pig tail, and then took me out of there to Diagon Alley.

"For about a week, I wondered if it had all been some crazy fever dream."

Draco chuckled. "Hagrid gave your cousin a pig tail? Why?"

"Dudley was always overweight, and if there was food around, he'd eat it. Hagrid brought some sausages with him, and Dudley ate them. Hagrid told me later that he'd actually meant to turn Dudley into a pig, which… it's probably for the best that he didn't."

Draco shook his head. "And your second memory?"

"Finding out that Sirius was innocent," Harry said with a small smile. "That I had family, real family, that cared about me… that was amazing to me. For a little while, we'd thought that maybe I could go and live with him, but… it all turned into a shit-show, and Sirius had to stay on the run. It still… it was still a lot, to know that there was an adult out there that cared for me, you know? Someone who'd be in my corner regardless of the circumstances."

"I'm sorry you didn't get to experience having a home with an adult who loved you," Draco offered after a moment. "I'm sorry for your loss, Potter."

Harry swallowed thickly. "Thanks."

Draco's lips tilted up slightly. "My memory is the Christmas before I went to Hogwarts for the first time. My mother was so happy that year, but also she pulled out all the stops because she figured it was the last Christmas of me being a child. I think maybe she was worried that I'd want to start staying at Hogwarts for the holidays or something, I'm not sure.

"Anyway, that year, she helped me decorate the tree instead of using magic to get it perfect, and she baked cookies with me, and I remember her singing Christmas carols while we did it. It was the best month of my life. Even my father wasn't quite so cold, that year."

Harry smiled. "That sounds amazing. I'd never had a real Christmas before Hogwarts. I was in awe of the decorations, and I don't think any child has been as shocked as I was to realise that I had presents on Christmas day."

"That's the saddest… but quite possibly the most adorable thing I've ever heard, Potter."

Harry felt his cheeks heat, and he took a sip of the still-hot tea to hide it. "What's the next question?"

Draco shook his head. "Not one I want to answer when I'm still coming off a nightmare. We can pick up later."

Harry nodded, leaning his head back. "Whatever you want."