Chapter 18: True Colors

"You remember the wizarding world?" I asked, about to cry with relief.

"I know how things are supposed to be," Draco said, his silver eyes less terrified than I'd seen them all day. "I can't remember anything about me or the people I knew. I was afraid that whatever happened to me screwed up my head completely. Whenever I felt confident in the way something worked, Cora would grimace and say, 'Actually…' My mind was filled with nonsense and I was lost in an alien world."

Placing my hand gently on his arm, I looked deeply into his eyes. "You're not mad. If you have any questions you can ask me. Meanwhile, I'm going to be looking into restoring your memory."

He searched my face. "You're serious? This isn't some elaborate prank?"

"I swear." I looked at the clock. "It's late, but we need to get back in England as soon as possible. I'm going to go check out and then we'll leave."

In the hotel lobby I was greeted by an attendant staring at the computer. I doubted she was actually awake. Clearing my throat, I said, "Excuse me." When she didn't stir, I raised my voice a bit. "Excuse me!"

She startled. "Wha- I mean, how can I help you?"

"I'd like to check out. I understand I may have to pay for an additional day. That's fine," I said.

The girl blinked. "Ma'am, it's ten-forty-seven at night."

"I'm aware," I said. "Something came up, and I need to check out as soon as possible."

"Okay, let me get this taken care of," she said, typing away at the computer.

As I stood there, I wanted to slap myself. It was doubtful, but if the Death Eaters had even one person that was halfway decent at finding information in the Muggle world, then I was done for. Blaise's inclusion in the discovery of Draco's "body" would be enough to make them suspicious of the truth of Draco's death. With my name found in Pocatello, it wouldn't be hard for a Death Eater to come and ascertain that Draco Malfoy was very much alive.

Drat. After years of security I was starting to get sloppy about covering my tracks. While the girl at the desk typed away, I snatched a nearby piece of hotel stationary and scribbled a quick note to Hazel, asking her to book a hotel room under my name in decent-sized cities all over America, one per night for the entire week. Hopefully that would look like I was touring America, helping out their various branches of MACUSA like I'd told everyone I was. Slipping the note into my pocket, I vowed to send it to Hazel the second I had access to an owl.

Once I had officially checked out, I practically sprinted up the stairs to find Draco waiting, awkwardly holding my bags. "You really packed light for America, didn't you? I seem to recall witches being more high maintenance than this."

I just smiled. "Never mind that, we need to get you clothes and toiletries and whatnot, but we need to go to a place where you won't be recognized."

"And why shouldn't I be recognized?" Draco asked, crossing his arms.

"I'll explain it once we're back in London, safe behind wards," I said. "For now, please just trust me."

Draco nodded and took my arm when I offered it. I glanced around to make sure the hallway was empty before apparating, the familiar sensation only slightly uncomfortable.

I assumed apparating fell in the category of things Draco remembered. His only reaction to it all was to look around skeptically at the Walmart I had apparated us into.

"We need to get you clothes and such," I explained. "This is a Muggle store."

Draco raised his eyebrows. "Are you sure this store has what we need?"

"Yeah, it's got everything," I said, internally snickering about the thought of Draco Malfoy wearing polyester.

"They don't have robes here," Draco noted, craning his neck to look at the clothes section.

"You'll have to wear Muggle clothes for a while. We're both too well-known in the wizarding world," I explained, still smiling a bit.

"I'm trusting you for now, but I expect a very thorough explanation of everything," Draco said, allowing himself to be dragged into the store.

While I stocked up on clothes that were simple (and cheap) like sweatpants, tee shirts, and basketball shorts, Draco somehow managed to sniff out the most expensive clothes in Walmart (which meant cotton button-up shirts and second-rate slacks).

After conceding that Draco could have two sets of nicer clothes, I tried to make quick work of all other necessities: socks, deodorant, shoes, and to my mortification, underwear.

Draco clearly enjoyed my embarrassment. "How do you know they'll fit?"

"You know resizing charms," I said staunchly. "Do you have anything you want to eat? I need groceries as well."

He thought for a moment. "Whatever your favorite pudding is. Americans just don't know good pudding."

I nodded and began collecting what groceries I needed. Draco seemed fascinated by the conveyor belt when we checked out, and then questions of how my card gave the store money, and thankfully the disinterested clerk just handed me my receipt and all but shooed me out of the store.

Laden with rustling bags, the two of us walked behind some dumpsters where we were sure not to be seen. Once more Draco took my arm, although there was some difficulty with the absurd amount of stuff we had.

After a moment of internal debate, I apparated to my house rather than my flat. Back home it wasn't night, but early, early morning; the sun hadn't even thought of making an appearance yet.

I was exhausted as I unceremoniously dumped all of the shopping bags on the floor of the living room. Draco set his bags down with a great deal more care than me. He looked around with wide eyes. "Is this a Muggle home?"

"No, this is my house. I have a few Muggle things in here like the television, but from what I've observed it's like most wizard homes," I said. "Why do you ask?"

Draco hesitated. "It feels wrong for a magical home to have so much… color."

I barked a laugh at that. "You may just be a bit biased on that."

He frowned. "What do you mean?"

"Well, you grew up in Malfoy Manor, yeah? I've been inside and I've never seen a place with less color. I think someone even magically changed the color of the book covers to be black. It has beautiful gardens, but inside is so completely black and gray that I begin to half-wonder if I've gone color blind. Then at Hogwarts you were in the Slytherin house, and the common room and such are in the dungeons so there's not much light. I also half-wonder if your father helped decorate in there too. There might be a bit of green…" I trailed off, trying to recall the specifics of the Slytherin common room.

"What I'm hearing is two cases where I'm right in saying your house is strangely colorful," Draco said with a smirk.

"I could name a dozen magical families whose houses are at least as colorful as mine, if not more so," I defended.

"Let's hear it then," he challenged.

"The Weasleys. Any of their children. Harry Potter. Lavender
Brown. Neville Longbottom. Minerva McGonagall. Shall I go on?" I said, raising an eyebrow.

He held up his hands in surrender. "I know when I'm beaten."

"Good. If it's unsettling I can spell the decorations in your room to be black," I offered.

"No, I didn't say that I don't like it. I just find it… odd. In a good way," Draco hurried to add.

I chuckled. "I think we're both exhausted. I'll show you to your room." At Draco's reproachful look I said, "I know I promised an explanation, but this is a long story. It's quite complicated, and we are both clearly not functioning at our highest level. I swear, the second you're ready for the story I will tell you as much or as little as you want."

Part of Draco clearly wanted all of this information immediately, but he hesitantly nodded. "I think I'm going to pass out the moment I sit down," he confessed. "That's fair enough."

Something in me threw all previous plans to the wind. I originally thought to stick him in either Harry's room or Ron's room. (The boys had unofficial rooms for when they stayed over, but Ron's remained largely untouched save for when I went and burned every possession he left behind. Harry didn't like my flat as much because he was left with a couch rather than an entire room. Both rooms were on the other end of the house so they couldn't lecture me on how late I stayed up.)

Instead, I found myself leading Draco to the room right across the hall from mine. It hadn't had an occupant the entire time that I had owned the house. Upon seeing the room I had decided to decorate it with dark wood furniture and forest green decor. As with all of my rooms, the walls were dominated by large bookcases stuffed almost beyond capacity.

Draco looked around. "It's still a lot of color, but I like it."

"Oh, don't be dramatic," I said with a yawn. I summoned his newly purchased clothes and directed them into the drawers of the massive oak dresser. "I imagine you're rather exhausted. Here are your bedclothes. The bathroom is next door. If you need anything don't be afraid to wake me. Chances are I'm already going to be awake. My room is across the hall. Did I already say this? I feel like I already said this."

He fingered the plaid pajama pants in agitation. "Thank you."

I cocked my head at him. "Are you okay?"

To be fair, it was an incredibly stupid question. Neither of us looked okay. Draco had dark bags under his eyes, those same eyes that held a conflict he didn't fully understand. I'm sure I was a nightmare to behold. My hair felt like prime avian real estate, and the threat of Death Eaters hung over my head. It would be a long time before either of us could be described as okay.

Draco hesitated before talking. "You hinted that I was kind of a terror to you when we were in school."

"I would just like to point out that I did punch you in the face," I said with a smile.

"But if we hated each other so badly then, why are you going to such lengths to help me?"

It was a fair question, and one that had haunted me since I had begun on this crusade. "Part of it is because everyone deserves to have someone willing to search to the ends of the earth with them. But I've seen how hard you've worked to become a better person and put your mistakes and prejudices behind you. And now Draco Malfoy is standing in front of me with no memory of any of those things. This version of you should get the opportunity to choose how you're going to live your life. There are a lot of reasons, I suppose. I could try to explain it for hours, but at the same time words can't really explain how or why I feel the overwhelming urge to help and protect you."

When I realized exactly how much I had said, I drew into myself a bit. "Sorry, I'm rambling. Ron always hated when I did that. I can-"

"I'm not Ron," Draco interrupted. "I may not remember him, but I can tell he's a bloody fool because I could listen to you talk for days."

His silver eyes bore into mine and I felt… unsettled. The memory loss had to have also done something to Draco's personality or perception, because it felt like Draco Malfoy was flirting with me.

"You must be exhausted," I said, ignoring the slight blush I felt on my cheeks. "Just knock on my door if you need anything. Tomorrow I'll explain the entire story to you, just like I promised."

Draco nodded and disappeared, leaving me to wonder about his mental condition. Tests would have to start tomorrow. I also had to wonder why I felt so unsettled and the tiniest bit… bereft.


A/N: Hey guys, I'm alive! I just got home from a family reunion in New Mexico. It was great, and I jumped right back into the swing of things. I'm still working two jobs, so new chapters won't be as consistent as I like. Thanks for waiting patiently, everyone. As always, please follow and PLEASE review if you have anything at all to say it. Sorry this chapter is a little short, we'll see what this summer brings. You're all my insptiration.