HP: Alliances 5
Harry was half asleep when Draco threw open the curtains and practically jumped on top of him. He had blood running down his face but he didn't seem to notice or care. "Harry! Wake up."
"You're bleeding. You hurt your head, that's not good. You have a head injury."
"I'm fine," Draco shook his head and blood splattered over Harry's sheets. "I was walking by the lake and I slipped. I hit my head. And I remembered. All of it." He slid onto Harry's lap. And the blond slowly rubbed himself against his lover. "Forgive me? I've been an idiot. I've always loved you. Please, Har-"
Harry couldn't help but be thrilled as Draco spoke and then a voice broke into their talk, "Harry?" He looked around but saw no one and then the voice spoke again. It was Draco's own voice. But Draco was sitting on his lap smiling. And Harry's own happiness ebbed away.
"This isn't real." He spoke with certainness. "This is a dream."
Draco studied him for a moment before saying. "Don't wake up." He never ceased rubbing against Harry. "I love you; he doesn't. Stay here with me. You've tried so hard. You deserve a reward."
"You aren't real. I have to wake up. He needs me." Harry tried to push Dream Draco off his lap. Hurt flashed across the fake Draco's face that looked so real it caused Harry to feel guilty. The dark boy pulled the dream version of his lover back more firmly onto his lap. The blond was still rocking against him. Harry loathed his body for reacting but couldn't stop. "I love you, Draco. But you are only a dream. Let me go back to the real you. Let me prove I love you. If I stay here I won't really be helping you at all."
"Please! He doesn't even know you. He doesn't want you. I do." He kissed Harry on the mouth. Draco's breath was becoming short as he moved against Harry. And Harry himself could hardly think. "Your Draco never does that. Didn't he say it was too intimate? And now he doesn't even know that does he? He just figures he can't cross some line by kissing you. But I can." And with that they both came violently.
Harry had tears rolling down his cheeks. "This is only my mind. You aren't anything other than my mind. I need to wake up." He pushed the dream version of his lover off of his body. He looked at the boy who was also crying. "You're just pretend. But I'm still sorry. Because even though you're not real I still feel like I'm abandoning you for someone else. And thank you: I know you're trying to help. I know it would be so easy and nice to stay here with you. Getting kissed, and held, and fucked into oblivion, and being told that I'm loved. But I do love the real you and I need to go back. Even if he, the real you, doesn’t know or love me. Because I love him. So now I'm apologizing to and thanking my own mind. And I must be going crazy." He kissed the boy on the lips, "Thank you."
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Harry was screaming his name. It was starting to freak Draco out. So he approached the bed slowly, "Harry?" he asked but Harry didn't respond. He threw the bed curtain back and studied the sleeping boy. Reaching out he went to shake the boy awake. But the minute he touched Harry's skin he was pulled into the dark boy's mind. He watched the dream unfold and stood dumfounded. And when the dream ended he found himself sitting on the edge of Harry's bed looking into blue eyes.
Shaking his head Harry's eyes reverted to green and he said softly. "You shouldn't really touch me when I'm sleeping. I'm a natural mage and my body lets off excess magic while I sleep to get rid of some of it. That can do some weird stuff to a conscious body: Like pulling them into my dreams. I'm sorry. Everybody, including you yourself, have been putting so much pressure on you to remember stuff. And I tried so hard to not add to that."
"You've been doing a good job," assured Draco. "I don't understand why you love him." He'd been saying that a lot over past days as people told him stories about his old life.
Sighing Harry said, "I wish you wouldn't refer to yourself in the third person. Stories don't do you justice. You're a good person, no matter what."
"He wouldn't even kiss you, Harry," they were both aware of how low the blow was and neither tried to speak. Finally Draco said, "I don't understand. That's the main reason I want my memories. I want to know how you ever saw any good in me."
In a brittle, snappy, tone Harry said, "Don't stress on my account. Heaven forbid you get your memories back for yourself!"
Harry's sarcasm cut through Draco and he spoke softly and deliberately. He chose his pronoun carefully when he said, "From everything I've heard so far: I treated you like a whore and you thought of me as your boyfriend. So honestly wouldn't you want to distance yourself from that? Wouldn't you want to understand it?"
"You didn't treat me like a whore. You wouldn't kiss or tell me that you loved me. But you went to a muggle movie theater and held my hand in a scary film. You'd laugh at stupid jokes I told. You cried in front of me, which I don't even think Blaise has seen since you were little. You switched sides in a bloody war for me." He swallowed when he realized that he was rambling and more slowly he said, "Think about the little things you do remember from your childhood. Do you really think you would blithely give away your love? I don't know if you loved me. And it doesn't really matter, because you made me happy and safe. Everyone expects me to die for the cause. But you," he rolled his eyes at his own corniness, "You expected me to live in spite of it. You said I had to stop being a moony git, put aside writing my will, and go to bed with you."
"I did?" asked Draco somewhat wondrously. It was the first explanation anyone had given him that had even slightly made sense.
Nodding Harry said, "It was quite a good speech actually." He patted the bed next to him and said softly, "You look tired, the effects of residual magic can do that."
"I've had a thought," said Draco as he fell back against the bed next to Harry. "I want my memories back, school's starting in three days and I don't want to be the only person who doesn't really know me. You said you'd do anything to help me," Harry nodded remembering the talk he had had with Draco a few days before. "I want to sleep with you. They keep saying that old familiarity will help." Harry pulled up the covers to let Draco slide under, "No," he said softly blushing, "I meant that I want to go to bed with you." Harry dropped the covers and just studied Draco's face unable to reply.
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Voldemort laughed, "How sweet. He thought it was his own dream." Lucius stood at his master's elbow sneering as he watched the dream play out on the mirror. "Well that is useful. I thought you foolish when you did not kill your son while you had the chance. But, oh, how grand. Harry Potter has a very simple weakness: your son." He cackled with joy at his skillful manipulation. He had skimmed the boy's insecurities, placed them into the vesicle of a dream version of the boy's lover, and watched as Potter fell to pieces.
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"You're bleeding. You hurt your head, that's not good. You have a head injury."
"I'm fine," Draco shook his head and blood splattered over Harry's sheets. "I was walking by the lake and I slipped. I hit my head. And I remembered. All of it." He slid onto Harry's lap. And the blond slowly rubbed himself against his lover. "Forgive me? I've been an idiot. I've always loved you. Please, Har-"
Harry couldn't help but be thrilled as Draco spoke and then a voice broke into their talk, "Harry?" He looked around but saw no one and then the voice spoke again. It was Draco's own voice. But Draco was sitting on his lap smiling. And Harry's own happiness ebbed away.
"This isn't real." He spoke with certainness. "This is a dream."
Draco studied him for a moment before saying. "Don't wake up." He never ceased rubbing against Harry. "I love you; he doesn't. Stay here with me. You've tried so hard. You deserve a reward."
"You aren't real. I have to wake up. He needs me." Harry tried to push Dream Draco off his lap. Hurt flashed across the fake Draco's face that looked so real it caused Harry to feel guilty. The dark boy pulled the dream version of his lover back more firmly onto his lap. The blond was still rocking against him. Harry loathed his body for reacting but couldn't stop. "I love you, Draco. But you are only a dream. Let me go back to the real you. Let me prove I love you. If I stay here I won't really be helping you at all."
"Please! He doesn't even know you. He doesn't want you. I do." He kissed Harry on the mouth. Draco's breath was becoming short as he moved against Harry. And Harry himself could hardly think. "Your Draco never does that. Didn't he say it was too intimate? And now he doesn't even know that does he? He just figures he can't cross some line by kissing you. But I can." And with that they both came violently.
Harry had tears rolling down his cheeks. "This is only my mind. You aren't anything other than my mind. I need to wake up." He pushed the dream version of his lover off of his body. He looked at the boy who was also crying. "You're just pretend. But I'm still sorry. Because even though you're not real I still feel like I'm abandoning you for someone else. And thank you: I know you're trying to help. I know it would be so easy and nice to stay here with you. Getting kissed, and held, and fucked into oblivion, and being told that I'm loved. But I do love the real you and I need to go back. Even if he, the real you, doesn’t know or love me. Because I love him. So now I'm apologizing to and thanking my own mind. And I must be going crazy." He kissed the boy on the lips, "Thank you."
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Harry was screaming his name. It was starting to freak Draco out. So he approached the bed slowly, "Harry?" he asked but Harry didn't respond. He threw the bed curtain back and studied the sleeping boy. Reaching out he went to shake the boy awake. But the minute he touched Harry's skin he was pulled into the dark boy's mind. He watched the dream unfold and stood dumfounded. And when the dream ended he found himself sitting on the edge of Harry's bed looking into blue eyes.
Shaking his head Harry's eyes reverted to green and he said softly. "You shouldn't really touch me when I'm sleeping. I'm a natural mage and my body lets off excess magic while I sleep to get rid of some of it. That can do some weird stuff to a conscious body: Like pulling them into my dreams. I'm sorry. Everybody, including you yourself, have been putting so much pressure on you to remember stuff. And I tried so hard to not add to that."
"You've been doing a good job," assured Draco. "I don't understand why you love him." He'd been saying that a lot over past days as people told him stories about his old life.
Sighing Harry said, "I wish you wouldn't refer to yourself in the third person. Stories don't do you justice. You're a good person, no matter what."
"He wouldn't even kiss you, Harry," they were both aware of how low the blow was and neither tried to speak. Finally Draco said, "I don't understand. That's the main reason I want my memories. I want to know how you ever saw any good in me."
In a brittle, snappy, tone Harry said, "Don't stress on my account. Heaven forbid you get your memories back for yourself!"
Harry's sarcasm cut through Draco and he spoke softly and deliberately. He chose his pronoun carefully when he said, "From everything I've heard so far: I treated you like a whore and you thought of me as your boyfriend. So honestly wouldn't you want to distance yourself from that? Wouldn't you want to understand it?"
"You didn't treat me like a whore. You wouldn't kiss or tell me that you loved me. But you went to a muggle movie theater and held my hand in a scary film. You'd laugh at stupid jokes I told. You cried in front of me, which I don't even think Blaise has seen since you were little. You switched sides in a bloody war for me." He swallowed when he realized that he was rambling and more slowly he said, "Think about the little things you do remember from your childhood. Do you really think you would blithely give away your love? I don't know if you loved me. And it doesn't really matter, because you made me happy and safe. Everyone expects me to die for the cause. But you," he rolled his eyes at his own corniness, "You expected me to live in spite of it. You said I had to stop being a moony git, put aside writing my will, and go to bed with you."
"I did?" asked Draco somewhat wondrously. It was the first explanation anyone had given him that had even slightly made sense.
Nodding Harry said, "It was quite a good speech actually." He patted the bed next to him and said softly, "You look tired, the effects of residual magic can do that."
"I've had a thought," said Draco as he fell back against the bed next to Harry. "I want my memories back, school's starting in three days and I don't want to be the only person who doesn't really know me. You said you'd do anything to help me," Harry nodded remembering the talk he had had with Draco a few days before. "I want to sleep with you. They keep saying that old familiarity will help." Harry pulled up the covers to let Draco slide under, "No," he said softly blushing, "I meant that I want to go to bed with you." Harry dropped the covers and just studied Draco's face unable to reply.
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Voldemort laughed, "How sweet. He thought it was his own dream." Lucius stood at his master's elbow sneering as he watched the dream play out on the mirror. "Well that is useful. I thought you foolish when you did not kill your son while you had the chance. But, oh, how grand. Harry Potter has a very simple weakness: your son." He cackled with joy at his skillful manipulation. He had skimmed the boy's insecurities, placed them into the vesicle of a dream version of the boy's lover, and watched as Potter fell to pieces.
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