Word Count: 590

~ Chapter 18 ~

What is your most terrible memory?

It wasn't until night had fallen that they came back to the questions. Harry was tired, but not tired enough to sleep, and they'd curled up on the sofa together.

Harry bemoaned the lack of a TV, and then spent an hour explaining what exactly it was that he was missing to a fascinated Draco.

"When this is all over, I'm totally taking you to the cinema," Harry told him, forcing himself not to think that it sounded like a date. It wouldn't be a date, right? Just… two friends meeting up.

That was all.

Right?

Draco had readily agreed with a small smile on his face at the thought.

"So, what's the next question," Harry asked, leaning his head sideways on the back cushion of the sofa, so he was facing Draco.

Draco's face fell. "Can we just not?"

"It's up to you," Harry replied gently. "But we have to push through that one if you want to finish the list, right?"

Pursing his lips, Draco nodded. "What's your most terrible memory, Harry?"

Harry winced. "Ah."

Smiling tightly, Draco shifted slightly. At first, Harry wondered if he was uncomfortable with their proximity on the sofa, but Draco had shifted closer.

"Wanna go first?" Draco asked.

"I… yeah. I can do that," Harry said, nodding. It wasn't like he had to think about it, despite the horror in his past. "I always thought that my most terrible memory would be watching Sirius fall through the veil, but it's not. The worst was standing in the basement of Malfoy Manor, listening to Hermione scream for help."

Draco looked paler than Harry had ever seen him, and he seemed to be shaking slightly beneath the blanket. Harry reached out and squeezed his hand; Draco squeezed back and didn't let go.

"The one thing I've been scared of since… since first year really, was putting Ron or Hermione in a situation they could be hurt in, and hearing her screaming, in so much pain…" Harry shuddered. "That was the worst thing I've ever heard."

Draco nodded. "Turns out we have this in common. That's my most terrible memory too. I just… that was the first time the war felt really real for me. And I know that sounds stupid, because of everything I did in sixth year but… Granger always seemed so untouchable. She was smarter than me, she was popular, and she was friends with you, and to watch Bellatrix torture her like that—" Draco shook his head. "I felt sick for days."

Harry hadn't been expecting that, but he was oddly glad that he knew now. Knew that Draco truly regretted what had happened, what he'd done and what he'd seen. Harry had thought that he did, but this seemed more… conclusive, he supposed.

"She's fine, you know? Did a little therapy immediately after the war, but she's had the scar removed and she's doing okay. Doesn't even really have nightmares about that anymore."

Draco nodded slowly. "I… thanks. For telling me that. I don't think I'll ever be able to forget the sounds she made, but I'm glad… I'm glad she's okay. I really am."

Harry smiled slightly and squeezed Draco's hand.

They sat in silence for a little while, until it was getting hard for Harry to keep his eyes open. He thought about going to bed, but knew he wouldn't sleep well.

Instead, he shifted slightly on the sofa and closed his eyes.

He didn't let go of Draco's hand.