The next morning, Harry woke to the sun shining through the solitary window, and the fire still smoking. He smiled sleepily and snuggled closer to the warm body next to his. Draco was on his side, facing the brunette. He was close enough that Harry didn't need his glasses to see the soft rise and fall of his pale chest, the peaceful expression on his face. He lifted a hand to delicately push a strand of blonde hair off his lover's forehead. A soft smile tugged at the corner of Draco's mouth.
"It's rude to stare." He muttered sleepily.
"It's rude to be as beautiful as you." Draco opened one eye to look at Harry. "How am I supposed to get anything done when I could be looking at you?" Draco snorted and yawned, which turned into a stretch. Harry admired the pale, muscular length of his lover, and then checked his watch.
"What time is it?" Draco asked as he rubbed his eyes.
"Shit. It's bloody 10 AM!"
Both boys scrambled out of bed, into their clothes, and to their classes.
For Harry, everything was getting back to normal. Draco at his side, the other Slytherins minding their own business, and his grades as average as ever.
For Draco, everything was just beginning to make sense. Harry Potter was actually quite an alright bloke, he had a makeshift family that he'd never experienced before, and nobody seemed to think of him as a villain anymore. After all, if the Chosen One fell in love with him, there had to be SOME redeeming qualities about him.
Harry's words echoed through his head almost constantly. I love you because you are just like me. Was he like Harry? Was Harry like him? Were they as similar as Harry seemed to think?
Sure they both had abusive childhoods, unfair responsibilities, and people they would do anything to protect. But would they make the same choices in the same situations? He wished he had his memories back. He wished he knew Harry as well as Harry seemed to know him. It bugged him that he was at a disadvantage of sorts. Harry knew what sex with Draco was like, but Draco didn't know what sex with Harry was like. He didn't know his likes and dislikes, his favorite sweets, his secret desires. And yet Harry seemed to know everything there was to know about Draco.
He decided to make a trip to the Headmistress's office to ask for guidance.
"Ah, Mr. Malfoy. How can I help you?" McGonagall's sweet old voice sounded once Draco stepped into her office.
"Hi, Headmistress. Um… I just had a few questions. Well… A lot of questions, but I won't ask them all."
"Of course, any way I can help." She offered him the seat across from her desk. Dumbledore's portrait behind her was empty. He sat and sighed.
"I'm sure you know about my… Predicament."
"Yes, Madame Pomfrey told me. Unfortunate, that."
"Is there any way to reverse the spell? Or trigger the memories to come back?"
"Oh, there are plenty of possibilities. But it would be much easier if we knew exactly what Longbottom cast. Are you interested in trying to regain your lost memories?"
"Yes. Very much so."
"Then perhaps I shall call Mr. Longbottom out of his class and ask him personally."
"Would you?"
"Certainly." McGonagall enchanted a small excuse note to find Neville's current professor, and he walked through the door not five minutes later, sweating nervously. "Ah, Mr. Longbottom. Come, we just have a few questions for you."
"Oh, uh… Sure." Neville came to sit beside Draco in another chair that had appeared seemingly out of nowhere.
"I'd like to know exactly what spell you cast on me so we can figure out how to undo it."
"My sparring partner ducked! I swear I didn't do it on purpose!"
"Just give us a general gist of what you incanted, Mr. Longbottom." McGonagall intoned.
"Um… Well, I was reading out of a spell book, but I-I don't think I said it right. It was a form of obliviate, but it was supposed to cure someone of madness."
"Ah, obliviate amente."
"Oh, that's how you say it? I'm pretty sure I said amante…"
"That would be the problem. Learn your enchantments well, Mr. Longbottom, so as to ensure we avoid this nature of problem in the future. Yes?"
"Yes, Headmistress." Neville bowed his head apologetically.
"You may return to class, Mr. Longbottom."
"Thank you. I'm really sorry, Draco." The blonde in question inclined his head in assent, and Neville stood to leave.
"Neville!" Draco called out right before the Gryffindor left the room. They both turned to face each other. "I… Forgive you." He tested the words out on his tongue. Neville looked shocked, and then alarmed, and then relieved. He actually smiled.
"Thanks, mate." Draco smiled awkwardly back as Neville left. When he turned back to McGonagall, she was arching an eyebrow at him over the top of her glasses.
"What? I don't want people walking on eggshells around me." The Headmistress smiled, but didn't say anything further on the subject.
"I'll do some research into how to reverse this specific spell, and I'll get back to you when I find either a solution or an obstacle. How does that sound?"
"Great. Um, one more thing, Headmistress."
"Yes?"
"Do you think Harry's affection is wasted on me?" She knew him better than he did, he was sure. She seemed to consider this.
"I think Harry's affection is wasted on anyone who does not appreciate what it means to be adored by the savior of the world." Draco looked at his lap as he turned her words around in his head.
"Thanks." He stood and turned to leave. However, since he was trying out saying what he was feeling, he paused and turned one last time. "McGonagall?" She raised her eyes from whatever she had resumed working on. "I'm sorry for being such a twat." Her eye twinkled and she smiled warmly at him.
The rest of Draco's classes passed in a haze. He was contemplating what McGonagall had said, what Harry had said, what he had said to Neville. He wasn't lying. He didn't blame Longbottom for his aim, and he didn't believe McGonagall deserved the shit he'd put her through in his schooling. It was just what his peers expected of him.
But the more he thought about it, the more he thought 'my peers can go fuck themselves.' He never felt like he could be vulnerable around other Slytherins, because of his name, because of who his father was, because of his economic status. And being vulnerable around Harry was like relaxing after a lifetime of being tense. Harry didn't mock him or judge him when he bared his soul. He loved Draco.
For a long time, Draco thought nobody would ever love him except for his mother. And even her love was a cold love, a tough love. She would sneak him food when his father sent him to bed without food, she would pick out his ties for important occasions, and she risked her life to save his! But Harry's love was warm and sincere and so solid, he felt like he could just reach out and touch it if he wanted. His mother's love was always just outside of his reach, never tangible enough.
That night, he walked up to the top of the astronomy tower for the first time since… The last time. He looked out over the Black Lake, breathed in the night air, and thought. Was he unable to kill Dumbledore because he was weak? Or was he just too good, as Harry thought? He wanted so badly to live up to Harry's perception of him, but Harry saw something in him that Draco had never been able to see. Where he saw cowardice, Harry saw strength. Where he saw shortcomings, Harry saw talent. Where he saw scars, Harry saw proof of his survival. And he loved him.
Harry eventually found him.
"This is the last place I'd thought to look for you." Harry approached Draco and looked out in the same direction. "Want to talk?"
"I went to McGonagall's office today."
"Oh?"
"We figured out what spell Longbottom cast on me, and she's gonna look into a counter spell."
"That's fantastic! So you decided you want your memories back?"
"I wish I knew you as well as you know me. It's… Frustrating." Draco turned to lean against the balcony wall. "The only memories I have of you are bad ones. Breaking your nose… The bathroom… The Manor…"
"Don't think about that. We'll just have to make new memories."
"How?" Draco asked hopelessly. Harry thought.
"Why did you come up here? Surely this place holds bad memories for you."
"I… Don't know. I feel like I'm never done apologizing."
"Well, why don't we make some better memories here? Remember that night when you came up here, and I found you…" Harry took Draco's hand and assumed a ballroom position. "…and we danced under the moonlight?" He smiled up at Draco, and he couldn't help but return it. They were swaying, almost dancing. Draco reluctantly played along.
"And then I dipped you…" He dipped Harry as he said this, and they both chuckled. "And then I kissed you." Harry's laughter quietened as Draco leaned down just a bit more and connected their lips.
When they finally broke apart and stood, Draco's heart was a bit lighter than it had been.
AN: Airen Desu, this is a work in progress! Be sure to follow the story so you're notified when I update! ^^