A/N: So, hopefully, people will stop hating me since I'm posting this chapter... O:) I'm sorry I left the last one on such a cliffhanger, but as you'll see, all is explained. I hope you don't mind the change of POV. Tell me what you think. It's going to have a ton of typos, I'm sure, as I typed this as fast as was humanly possible (on my dad's insanely small laptop), and I'm sneaking on (which is hard to do when you share a hotel room with your parents). On the plus side, Barcelona's awesome! ALSO, I dedicate this chapter again to xErised. Her fanfics are more than amazing, and you should go read them. I'm a terrible person and I have been lacking to do that. But, yes, they are a bundle of awesome. I hope you guys enjoy it. Rate and review. :)
Harry's POV
My dreams were plagued with images that didn't make sense. My nemesis took the spotlight. There was something about them that scared me, too. He wasn't shown as some horrible monster or even the bastard he was. My mind made everything about him attractive, from his white-blond hair to his stormy grey-blue eyes. But Draco's lips weren't enticing and his smile wasn't enigmatic. He was self-righteous and looked better as a ferret. I wished I could burn my mind, separate myself from that. I swore it wasn't me. I was just infected with something. I would never think these things in my right mind. But part of me didn't believe that, and I began to hate Draco even more.
"Mr. Potter, are you alright?" I opened my eyes and looked up at the blurred figure hovering above me.
"I'm fine. Never better. Where am I?" I tried to sit up, but found that my arms weren't willing to move. "Erm, I can't move my arms."
"That's usual after a coma. You should regain movement in a few minutes." I gulped. What?
"A coma?"
"You've been in a coma, Mr. Potter. For quite some time now, too." I racked my brains trying to remember what I was last doing. The only thing that came to my mind was a Quidditch tournament that was sure to have been weeks ago.
"The last thing I remember was a Quidditch tournament. Did I fall off of my broom?"
"A Quidditch tournament? I believe the last time you had a Quidditch tournament was quite a while before…the incident."
"The incident?"
"Oh, dear. This is going to be difficult to explain, and I don't want to overwhelm you. Some patients have memory loss when they regain consciousness, but, on the positive side, most of them do remember what happened within a few weeks time." This wasn't possible!
"I'm sorry, but I don't have memory loss. I can't have memory loss. Where am I?" I felt my fingers twitch, and my arms slowly regained feeling. I reached over to the small table beside me and found my glasses lying there as if I had left them. Perhaps I had. A lady with a kind face and short brown hair came into focus. She was giving me the most concerned expression.
"You're in Saint Mungo's."I felt my face heat up. This was just getting worse and worse.
"What happened before I got here? Why am I here?" She looked sceptical, like she didn't want to tell me something. At last, however, she sighed and gave me a grave expression.
"You were attacked by Lucius Malfoy..." Had he just attacked me in broad daylight? Was he that much of a sick bastard? Surely he was locked up by now. As if reading my mind, she continued, "...after you followed Draco Malfoy to their Manor."
"Why would I do that?" This didn't make any sense, but I couldn't imagine why anyone would lie to me about something like this. Her face darkened, and she didn't reply. "Why in the world would I do that?" I found myself glaring at her even though I knew it wasn't her fault.
"You followed Draco because..."
"Because?"
"Because you were in love with him and wanted to stop his dad from hurting him." I gasped and felt a shiver pull its way up my spine.
"I do not love Draco Malfoy." Oh, I almost felt guilty for talking to this lady with so much venom in my voice. But I had to make it clear that I did not want to be associated with him. She had to be making this up. It still seemed like too much of a coincidence, though. This hit far too close to comfort after what I had dreamt. Perhaps she had taken a peek somehow and was now just humouring herself. But her face seemed fat to kind to ever do that.
"I'm just saying what you said." She backed away slightly.
"I would never say that. I mean, unless I was under the effect of the Imperio. You know, that would explain the memory loss." It seemed like a desperate attempt to convince myself, but it had to be true, didn't it? I couldn't like a Malfoy – a Slytherin and a guy!
"I don't think so. The boy did seem sincere. He came to your bed crying."
"Crying? The only reason he'd cry was because I didn't actually die."
"I don't know, Mr. Potter. Maybe you shouldn't be so quick to judge." She seemed to be unsure of what to say. "In any case, I have to go attend my other patients. You just calm down and don't do anything rash, alright?"
There was no other explanation. I had to have been under the Imperio. Still, I saw the glance she threw behind as she exited the room. Whoever the Healer was, obviously she didn't feel like she could trust me. I had to get back to Hogwarts and discuss this with Ron and Hermione. It was all just a mess, a misunderstanding. I even now saw him tattooed on my eyelids when I closed my eyes, like a phantom image. I swore the imagined scent that currently filled my nose was his. The ghost touch of a pair of lips was his, too. How far had I gone under the influence of that curse if he now tormented me this much?
I put on a faux-smile as she walked into the room. "Uh, I see you're feeling better already, Mr. Potter."
"Quite." Gods, I sounded so formal. "Do you think it's possible for me to go back to Hogwarts to talk with Draco and my friends? The memory loss will be a hassle, but I'm sure I can deal with it. And in any case, they'll only help explain what happened to me." She was going to see right through me; I just knew it. I sounded so fake and manipulative, even I wanted to through up.
Instead of narrowing her eyes in suspicious, however, she merely smiled and nodded. "I'm glad to see you've handled this maturely. However, I'm not sure if we'll be able to get you out of here today. I'm sure you'll be back at school by tomorrow for sure, alright?" I nodded and gave her my sweetest smile, revolted at myself for lying so much.
xXxXxXxXxXx
We had gone over a few other things before she felt it was safe o send me back to Hogwarts. They had shown me the scars on my face. They didn't surprise me, and the description that had given me in preparation made me think it was going to be something horribly misshapen. If I could deal with a bold lightning bolt scar on my forehead, I could deal with a few faded criss-cross lines.
They said that it was good I still knew who my friends were. I could trust Malfoy according to them, but Pansy was someone to stay away from. Although I didn't say it, I was planning to stay equally far away from both of them. I wasn't going to trust Malfoy, no matter what they told me. The only person I had any potential of falling in love with was Ginny, and I would have even doubted it if they had told me that I was dating her. I continued to ignore the flashes of Malfoy that invaded my mind, and just nodded at whatever they told me.
With a final good luck, they decided it was time for me to immerse myself in my old, normal life. I eagerly agreed. I was homesick for the old, mysterious castle filled with magic that still made me feel a childish delight. I couldn't wait to see Ron and Hermione. I wondered what had happened in the meantime. I could picture Hermione forcing me to do homework the moment I got there. She would hand it to me and start a rant on how many important things I'd missed while Ron rolled his eyes and sighed. I couldn't wait.
They came with me to McGonagall's office, making it impossible to explain anything to her. I wanted to ask her what the hell had happened that led up to the whole Saint Mungo's ordeal. I figured that she could give me an honest answer. I wasn't about to start questioning her with a Saint Mungo's Healer still keeping watch over me, though. McGonagall, however, gave me a rare smile, and I nearly fainted with shock when she hugged me.
"I'm so glad you're alright." They told me I could leave, and as I was exiting the office, I heard them mutter something about my memory loss to her. I scowled. The last thing I wanted was for her to think I was crazy or addled.
The halls were empty, which I found convenient as it kept unwanted attention away from me. I could deal with stares tomorrow. Today I was just going to focus on Ron and Hermione. When I came to the Portrait with the password McGonagall had told me, the Fat Lady smiled and welcomed me back. As she opened, however, the smile on my face slid off. In the Gryffindor common room sat none other than Draco Malfoy. What was he doing here? Had everyone gone mad? Did they truly trust him? I wanted to protest or say something, but with all eyes on me, I froze up.
Unfortunately, not everyone stood in place. Malfoy scrambled to his feet and flung himself at me. His arms wrapped around me and tears appeared in the corner of his eyes. From his mouth came the most absurd stream of nonsense. I stood there until I regained my composure and the shock faded away. With a rough shove, I pried him away from my body. "Get off of me. What the fuck are you doing, Malfoy?" I'd never seen anyone's face change from happiness to depression as fast as his had.
"Harry, I'm sorry. /I didn't mean for you to get hurt. I swear I didn't know you were going to follow me." Oh, he was pitiful.
'Sure you didn't. You probably just put me under the Imperio. And now you've tricked my friends and stolen them away from me. Ron, Hermione, tell me you don't believe him." I gave them desperate looks, but they just met me with as confused expressions as everyone else.
"Harry, I preformed a spell on him. He's not guilty of hurting you. And we talked about this. You told me you were in love with him." I flushed with anger.
"What did you do to everyone? I'm sure you and Voldemort are having a good laugh about this."
"You think I...used the Imperio on you?" He looked more like he was about the throw up than cry by this point. Since when had he become such a good actor? "I love you. I swear I never meant for this to happen. I swear on my mother's grave. You have to believe me."
"You sick fuck, she isn't even dead."
"Actually, she died while you were in a coma, Harry," Ron mumbled.
"Please, believe me or remember or whatever it takes. Please, Harry."
"Stop calling me by my first name. And get off of the floor and stop grovelling. You look absolutely pathetic." He didn't get up, but his stare turned completely void. I wasn't sure which was worse.
"Draco?" Zabini asked. Zabini – why was another Slytherin in here? Surely this was proof that they were the mad ones!
"I'm okay, Blaise." I wasn't sure if I'd ever heard anyone speak in a more robotic and less emotional voice. His acting skills were truly fooling everyone!
"What did you do to him? I've never seen him cry. He's too fucking proud for his own good, and you've broken him or fuck knows what!" Zabini took a step toward me, but Dean put a hand on his shoulder. At least someone had common sense. I waited for Dean to slap him or do something that vaguely resembled a normal action toward a Slytherin.
"Please calm down. Don't do anything rash." He wrapped an arm around Zabini's waist. That was it. I had officially lost faith in humanity. Everyone had lost their minds.
"Get off of me, Thomas." He started to weakly struggle against Dean's arm, but released slightly as Dean spoke.
"I don't like what he's doing to Malfoy either, but there's nothing we can do." Dean shot me a glare.
"What I'm doing? When did I become the bad guy?" No one answered, but Dean placed a kiss on Zabini's neck. I gagged. "Are you two going out?"
"Yes, we are. And you've become the bad guy since you've started hurting people I care about and making comments like that," Dean mumbled. Others nodded in agreement.
"I can't believe you guys. I'm going upstairs." As I headed up, people rushed to Malfoy's aid.
xXxXxXxXxXx
When I woke up the next day, I could remember a little more. I had forgotten to do my Potions homework because of the Quidditch match, and Snape had given me hell. It wasn't much, but it was at least something. The others remained just as cold to me, though. The only thing Ron would say to me was that Malfoy had gone back to the Slytherin dormitory so that I wouldn't have to worry about him getting in my way. It was accompanied by an angry glare, and that was that. He was the last person I would expect to vouch for Malfoy. I felt like it was going to be difficult adjusting to classes today.
Worst of all, my dreams veered off into the ones I'd had before I had woken from the coma. Malfoy weaselled his way into the confines of my mind. Every detail about him attracted me like the opposite pole of a magnet. He filled my mind with sweet pictures of him in his wonderful pale glory. His hands merely brushed against mine, and his eyes dangerously smouldered. I felt like he was trying to read my soul, which was, of course, all ridiculous and frustrated me to no end. I figured this was all probably due to everyone trying to convince me we were in love.
Luckily, when I went to the Great Hall, Malfoy was nowhere to be seen. Unfortunately, however, Zabini was also seated at the Gryffindor table. It was awfully quiet, and I felt horribly uncomfortable. It only made matters worse when Parkinson decided to waltz over.
"You know, Potter, I never expected I'd be complimenting or congratulating you. If anything, I'd usually see myself sending a hex your way."
"Why in the world would you want to compliment me?"
"I've never seen Malfoy like this. I thought I was going to have to try extra hard to make his life miserable after you came back, but you seem to have done the job for e. He's acting like some lovesick, heartbroken, overly hormonal teenage girl, and it's actually quite wonderful. What'd you do to him? What's your secret?"
"I don't know whether this is part of your plan to make everyone pity Malfoy, but you should seriously consider fucking off."
"Oh, Potty has an attitude. Maybe you do have some Slytherin in you, after all." With that, she walked away. Absolutely everyone at the table was giving me the most horrible glares.
"You guys are ridiculous. I'm leaving." I figured that no one would be in the library during breakfast or classes. I planned to skip, at least for today. I had gotten enough stares in the Great Hall, and the last thing I needed now was more attention. Upon entering the library, however, I noticed I wasn't the only one with this idea.
"Harry." I'd never seen Malfoy look like more of a mess in my life.
"Just go away. And stop calling me that.'
"You know, I wanted to keep on calling you Potter, but you made me call you Harry." It was disturbing watching him. It was almost as if he believed what he said. Almost.
"Stop lying!"
"Quiet!" shouted Madame Pince.
"Remember, please." I shivered at the desperation in his voice and turned away to go to the Gryffindor common room. When I got there, I curled up into a ball on my bed. Soon enough, I felt myself drifting into sleep again.
When I woke up somewhere around dinnertime, an angry Hermione stood glaring at me. "I don't know why you're insisting on acting like a complete prat. Everyone's angry at you, and I won't even go into the rumours people are starting to spread."
"Don't tell me that you're on Malfoy's side too?" I groaned.
"Of course I am! And if you really can't remember what happened-"
"Just leave me alone, Hermione." The last thing I needed was a speech on morals from anyone who was friends with Malfoy.
"Fine. Here's your homework." She dumped several books on my bed. "Most of the teachers are letting you off easily due to the whole memory 'memory loss' issue. I don't think it's fair." I opened my mouth to protest, and she hurriedly continued. "But Snape says you're to come to his office at seven today to serve detention."
"Detention?" I could immediately tell I'd get no sympathy from her and didn't bother elaborating. I merely sighed and asked, "What time is it now?"
"Six-thirty."
"Oh, bother."
xXxXxXxXxXx
"Mr. Potter, You're five minutes late." Snape didn't even both looking up from his desk.
"Hermione just woke me up half-"
"I don't care to hear what Ms. Granger did or didn't do. Or for that matter, any of your excuses." He continued scribbling on a sheet of parchment. If he would at least have some respect to look up at me... Why was I even here? Any other person would have been given time. Precious Malfoy wouldn't have gotten a detention. I scowled.
"I just got out of a coma in case you didn't notice." My anger probably was a bit much, but at the moment, I could care less, and I had been provoked, after all.
"I don't care if the world is ending. You would still come to my class until it did."
"You wouldn't say that if I were dear, little Malfoy," I spat. I could tell that was the wrong thing to say the moment it left my mouth. Snape's beady black eyes finally glanced up at me, and he stood up, practically pushing the desk away with the force and speed.
"You've pushed your luck more than I'll allow He's lost his status, fought against his father, lost his mother, and endured weeks of humiliation and distrust for you. The least you could do is attempt to accept it. You stand around acting like you're better than him because of a few more scars on your face. He would have given anything to have been in a coma instead of you. I wish he would stop pining after you and making a fool out of himself, but I know that's not the way love works. Just like your pathetic excuse of a father." Before I could help myself, think over what he had said, I blurted out a response.
"Like you could ever love anyone. You're soulless." In that second, his face drained of all colour. His hand reached for his robes to pull out his wand, but just in time, his arm dropped to its side.
"Go. You'll have to serve your detention another day." I had never heard his voice like that, and dared not disobey him. Running out of the room, I threw a final glance back to find him collapsed at his desk with a pained expression on his face. For the first time, as awful and impossible as it was, I felt guilty.
I ran to Lupin's immediately after I'd shut the Dungeon door. I couldn't believe I had forgotten him. He didn't like Malfoy. Even if Ron wasn't on my side, Lupin was an adult, and he was reasonable enough to see the truth. The moment I knocked on his door, a "come in" followed.
"Ah, Harry, I was wondering when you'd come knocking on my door. It's not a good way to start off by missing classes." He grinned, and I felt at east right away. Obviously, someone was going to be on my side.
"It's been hectic. I can't remember anything, and people have been trying to tell me crazy things. I'd blame it on Fred and George, but the jokes are a bit too cruel to be coming from them."
"Jokes?" He raised an eyebrow sceptically.
"Everyone's been telling me that Malfoy has some sort of a disgusting crush on me." I shook my head, but Lupin's expression only hardened.
"They aren't jokes. So, then, I guess the rumours are true. I'd thought you'd know better and realise the truth." No, Lupin couldn't be on Malfoy's side as well! I let out a frustrated cry.
"I thought you'd understand. He's deceived you, too?"
"You're only deceiving yourself. You loved him, too."
"He can say he loves me, and I might doubt it, but that – you can't believe that too, can you?" Anyone could tell that part was a lie.
"I can see how this came be difficult for you to believe, but obviously I'm not going to convince you. You'll just have to remember by yourself. It's probably best you go to bed." He looked at me with sad eyes. "Goodnight, Harry."
"But-"
"Goodnight."
xXxXxXxXxXx
The following day, I woke up remembering a little more. Other than the one time Hermione had woken me up, every time I slept, I remember a little more. Something it was only a part of a day, and other times it was two days. After the second day, I'd come back, Malfoy began sleeping on the cough in the Gryffindor common room. I took a habit to ignoring him and getting to the Great Hall before anyone else woke up. I managed to remain on polite, but cold terms with everyone except for Zabini, Dean, and the other Slytherins. While Dean and Zabini gave me cold glares and the silent treatment – Hermione told me that they wanted to do much worse, but Malfoy wouldn't let them – the other Slytherins now had this odd thing where they pretended to worship the ground I walked on and gave me some giggly compliments. It was obvious that they were only doing it to irritate and make fun of me, and quite unfortunately, it worked well.
The teachers were cold to me as well. Snape didn't have another outburst, even when I came to serve detention for the second time, but he did give me an unannounced quiz on everything I'd missed within a week of my arrival. I, of course, got pity from no one. Lupin and I didn't even talk much, and when we did, he gave me this pitying expression constantly, which only really irked me. Professor McGonagall and Hagrid even refused to talk to me other than to ask if I'd remembered. Professor McGonagall told me that Dumbledore had wanted to talk with me about it, but she had insisted that there was nothing to do and we'd just have to wait until I remembered.
As for Malfoy, other than sleeping on the couch, he generally stayed out of my way. /There were occasional times where I'd find him staring at me, and I had to convince myself that there was no sincerity in his miserable gaze. The only times he spoke was to ask me once in a while whether I remembered. I assumed he took my prompt walking in the opposite direction as a no. Sometimes I found myself doubting whether I was right in my assumptions. I always managed to convince myself that I was.
Overall, though, I'd never felt more lonely and abandoned at Hogwarts.
xXxXxXxXxXx
About four weeks after I'd come back, I was restless and found the common room crowded with people, including Dean, Zabini, and Malfoy. I edged away, deciding that since I didn't have homework, I might as well go to bed early. Tonight felt different, though. I felt like I was on the verge of discovering something big. So, while I lay in bed in a pitch black room, my anxious mind kept me awake. Even after person after person came upstairs – during which time I pretended to be asleep – and the room filled with other people's snores, I stayed awake, glaring at the ceiling. By the time I fell asleep, it had to have been well past four in the morning.
I woke up with a start and jumped out of bed. It was later than usual, and by the look of the mostly empty beds, I had to assume that some people had left to go have breakfast already. Although I was in nothing but my boxers, I ran downstairs to find the common room empty except for Draco. It seemed that he had just finished putting on his robes, and still had the most adorable half-asleep expression on his face. The moment he saw me, however, he turned around and headed toward the portrait. Running behind him, I grabbed him by the wrist. He turned around, staring at me in shock. A wide smile spread across my face.
"I remember."