Misplaced Memories - Chapter 4/10
**Posted early because I love you (and I've had a bit of a crappy day, and you guys always make it better!)
"You know who's behind Harry's attack," Draco stated, calling on his acting skills to appear calmer than he felt.
Blaise crossed his legs and settled back into the chair looking slightly impressed. "So do you - you just don't know it yet."
Draco stumbled out of the Floo network still wearing his pyjamas. He only slowed his frantic rush toward Harry's room when the smooth chill of marble on his bare feet became too much to ignore.
Shoes.
He had a hurried debate with himself about whether or not to stop by his office for the spare pair he kept, or just charge ahead, cold feet and sanitation be damned. Professionalism and a shred of remaining sanity won out as he took the first left and passed a young witch he didn't know pushing a potions trolley toward the lab. She gasped, startled as he ran by, but to Draco's relief, she didn't trigger the alarms.
He pressed his palm to the door of his office and it opened silently for him. The room was dark, but the light from the hallway was enough to do the job. A quick glance up to the portrait on the back wall revealed a peaceful countryside, but no Severus.
Shoes on, and pyjamas hastily transfigured, Draco turned to leave. A man stood silhouetted in doorway. Before Draco could speak, the figure quickly stepped inside and pulled the door closed, plunging them both into darkness. Draco dove blindly toward the desk, hoping he had judged the distance correctly - not that it would offer much protection if his attacker started throwing curses.
"Lumos," said the intruder.
As the room filled with a soft glow, the calm, almost bored tone of voice triggered Draco's memory. He tried to steady his rapid breathing and chanced a peek around the side of his hiding place. "Blaise?"
Blaise was dressed from head to foot in black, and Draco noticed that he was now bald, but the look suited. Even with light shining out from his own wand, Blaise, with his dark skin and frozen posture seemed to almost disappear into the shadows behind him. "We need to talk."
Draco brushed himself off. His ring gently pulsed with warmth, reminding him why he was standing in his office in the middle of the night. His irritation grew.
"Poor time for a dramatic visit, Blaise. I need to check on a patient, and then you can talk all you like."
"This concerns him," he said, helping himself to a chair.
Draco righted his own chair and studied his former schoolmate with new scrutiny. He thought briefly about calling for the Aurors or possibly Severus, but changed his mind as an idea made its way into his thoughts. Once a Slytherin…
"You know who's behind Harry's attack," Draco stated, calling on his acting skills to appear calmer than he felt.
Blaise crossed his legs and settled back into the chair looking slightly impressed. "So do you - you just don't know it yet."
Draco drew his wand and stood to leave as he took the bluff one step further. "If you're done talking in riddles…"
"He needs to be stopped, for his own good if nothing else."
Suddenly confused, Draco dropped his guard. "Harry? Was this an attempt to…"
"No, no. I don't believe it's anything personal-although…"
"Begin making some sense, or I'll have Aurors down here before you can…"
"It's Gregory."
Draco blinked. "Goyle? He can't walk and whistle a tune. What makes you think he's the one?"
"He told me - practically shouted it to the towers. We had business a while back, and he'd had a pint or two."
Draco lowered his wand and sat on the edge of his desk. He doubted Goyle was capable of planning an attack, but since it was the first lead to surface, Draco decided to hear Blaise out. "He's leading the Red Masks?"
"No. Yes." Blaise shrugged. "It's hardly even an organisation, just four or five idiots who have too much time on their hands and share his thirst to continue the war as best they can."
"Sounds like a pile of Doxie Droppings. Why would they…"
"How would I know? Between you and me, his broom never did fly straight. More than a few flobberworms have been missing from his barrel since your husband…"
"And where do you stand, Blaise? If I recall correctly, your family was conveniently missing at all the trials."
"I told you - I want Goyle stopped. I like my life and my endeavours to be organised. War is untidy and bad for business. Besides, he's an embarrassment - always has been, and you know it! ”
Draco swallowed and tried to rein in his anger. Blaise's less than legal business had been a thorn in Harry's side for nearly four years. Worse than the legal issues, were the injuries and poisonings Draco dealt with as a result of Blaise's livelihood.
“And how is the underground blood-potion trade treating you?” Draco asked flatly.
Blaise exhaled and ran a hand over his smooth head. “This isn’t about me, Malfoy. True, Potter and his friends make it hard for an alternative business man to turn much of a profit at times, but after reading about his condition in the Prophet, I thought you had a right to know which direction to point the Aurors.”
"You could be working with Goyle, using his underlings and Harry's injury to draw the Aurors away from paying too much attention to your own interests." Draco waited, his anger simmering, but Blaise refused to bite at the bait.
"I would have thought you'd be more grateful for my part in helping your husband."
"I am grateful, grateful I'm not obtuse enough to swallow your story whole. I haven't seen you in years, Blaise, and yet here you are with a helpful hint served up on a plate of what, compassion for Harry Potter? How do I know you're not the one behind the new masks and not Goyle?”
"You don't." Blaise stood, eyes showing emotion for the first time. "Take it or leave it. If you consider that I entered a hospital crawling with Aurors to give you this information, that might help you believe my motives." He paused and lowered his voice. "True, I won't be buying any Potter memorabilia, but you and I were good friends once. I regret that some of our choices have sent us in different directions."
Draco took a deliberate step forward. "If you were involved, and Harry doesn't make a full recovery, the Aurors will be the least of your worries." His threat delivered, he stepped around his former friend and out of his office without caring if Blaise stood there all night.
~*~
Harry listened to the soft rustle of leaves while his mind took its time remembering how to open his eyelids. He ached, but it was manageable, pushed down and muffled, and made infinitely better by the calming nature sounds and the warm hand wrapped around his own.
He opened his eyes and blinked a few times to focus. Hundreds of wispy willow shoots, heavy with green and yellow leaves swayed in a breeze he could see and hear, but not feel. He caught glimpses of a perfect blue sky and pale spring sun through the greenery, but the warmth of it never reached him.
The hand pulled away quickly, and Harry turned his head to see Draco pushing his chair back a little from the bed.
"I like the new ceiling," Harry said, coughing afterward. His mouth felt like it had been recently filled with sand.
"Here. Have some water. Slowly." Draco glanced upward. "Thought you might like a change of scenery when you woke up."
Harry watched as Malfoy took a seat again. There was something off about the wrinkled uniform and hastily buttoned white cardigan, but they seemed to match the tired eyes and the sleep crease on his cheek left by the imprint of a blanket - or fingers pressed into skin.
"You slept here?" Harry rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and suddenly wished he had clean teeth or a plate of sausages. He couldn't decide which urge was more immediate.
"They called me in when you were in crisis. I didn't want to leave in case there was a second wave," Draco said, waving his wand to check Harry's vitals. Numbers and strange symbols appeared on the wall beside the bed.
Harry forgot the sausages when Draco rolled his neck back and rubbed out the kinks. It had been a rough night for them both.
"Thank you."
Draco wore a tired, but honest smile. "It's my pleasure."
Harry was suddenly glad that the old Harry and Draco had put aside their differences and become friends. He just wished he could remember more.
"I recovered a good chunk of memories last night, but I'm not sure I want to do that again if it's going to hurt so much," Harry admitted.
Draco stopped recording the medical information and gave his full attention back to Harry. "How much have you remembered?"
"End of the war, maybe a month or two more." A sharp, short burst of pain forced his eyes closed as memory he'd already recovered came back with vivid clarity. He felt the cold, damp ground under his dying body as a woman whispered against his ear. Harry forced his eyes open and grabbed Draco's hand. "Your mother, Draco, she… In the forest, she saved me. She saved everyone."
Draco moved his free hand to the water glass, but Harry waved him off. The urgency of the memory faded, and he suddenly felt strange and immature for grabbing Draco. There was a gentle squeeze just before Harry let him have his hand back.
"I never knew if it was an act of bravery or self-preservation. I suppose it doesn't matter now."
"She was willing to betray him for a hint that you were still alive." Harry stopped for a moment when Draco looked away. "Maybe we're not supposed to understand it. I think it's just what mothers do."
Draco shrugged and gave Harry a hint of a smile. "Perhaps you're right. I'm convinced all mothers become a different breed of creature when their children are threatened."
Harry nodded and gave Draco's words some thought. He tried to picture his own mother protecting him. He wondered if she had time to realise that she was only thing left standing between her enemy and her son. She gave him life - more than once, and she had been there with him - even at the end. He knew there was no point in wondering 'what if' when it came to the life he'd been dealt, but he still felt guilt and emptiness for the price she had paid.
With the war memories still fresh in his mind, he wondered if his older self still carried the weight of all the other souls who'd fallen during the last battle.
He finally rolled toward Draco and stuck an arm under the pillow. He didn't know what to think of their conversation or his wandering thoughts. He was tired enough that he thought he might be dreaming it all up, though he was fairly sure it was real.
Draco was another mystery he couldn't quite figure out. One day he was just a Healer, next he was an old enemy, and now… "You said we eventually become close friends. Did your mother bring us together?"
Draco's smile held a touch of sadness. "In a way, I suppose. You testified on her behalf, and I began to understand who you really were, even back then. You challenged me to become my own man and badgered me into becoming someone who was worth a second chance."
"Do you miss him - the other me?"
Draco inhaled slowly and took a minute before answering. "Yes, and no. He's here - he's you - but a version of you I don't get to see very often. I imagine it's much harder from your end, getting tossed around your own timeline without warning."
"Most of the time it's not too bad," Harry said, watching Draco swirl out a few notes on his pad. "The memories were coming a few at a time, and it wasn't so hard to manage, but last night I thought it was going to kill me. There was just too much information pouring in all at once and the pain was so bad. It felt like my head was splitting."
Draco paused the quill and touched Harry's hand briefly. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. I should have been."
"It's ok," Harry said, looking up again. For the first time, he truly saw the concern of a friend reflected in the tired eyes staring back at him. He spread his fingers, slowly and waited. Without comment, Draco curled his fingers into the waiting spaces. It was new, and probably not professional in the least, but it filled the loneliness, even if it wasn't going to last. "You're here now. What happened, anyway? Why was it so bad this time?"
"I'm afraid that might be my fault," Draco said quietly, staring down at their hands. ”The brain is a strange animal. By giving you one of my memories, the other Healers and I believe that it disrupted the order your mind had set up to cope with this situation."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "There was an order?"
Draco chuckled. "Maybe one that doesn't make sense to us, but it certainly let us know that my memory wasn't welcome in your head - at least not yet. I'm sorry."
"It's all right. Don't blame yourself." Harry rubbed at his eyes with his free hand and sank deeper into his pillows. He looked up and watched the blue sky sweep in and out of the sway of the willow. The forgotten ring on his chest grew warm. He played with it through the fabric. Malfoy cleared his throat. When Harry looked up, Draco was intently studying the water tray.
"You're my friend, so you know about this ring, right?"
Draco swallowed. "Harry, it's really not my place to…"
"Do you know whose it is?"
"It's yours," Draco said quickly, reclaiming his hand. Harry felt the warmth run away from his skin. Draco looked up at the door, but Harry captured his hand again before he could make a polite escape.
"Nice try. I mean, yes, I know it must be mine now, because I'm wearing it, but I took it off the chain earlier and tried it on. It doesn't fit any of my fingers."
Draco tugged gently, but Harry refused to release the hand. Draco exhaled and closed his eyes as if gathering strength. "Harry, this isn't something we should discuss right now. I really shouldn't have…"
"I don't have any memory of it, so I know I must get it after the war, but before my accident," he said, taking a moment to catch Draco's eyes. The raw emotion he saw before Malfoy shut it down was shocking. Draco's hand slid from his as he wondered if he'd taken his questioning too far. "I'm just really curious about it, that's all," he finished flatly.
"It saved your life," Draco whispered to the floor.
"It's got a tracking spell or something, right? It got so hot when I was in the cave, but I'm guessing it was some sort of a warning system."
"Yes. Your job - your future occupation - comes with its share of danger. The ring connects you to the person who gave it to you and alerts them if you're seriously injured or, Merlin forbid, dead." Draco paused and took a few more deep breaths. Pink blotches were showing along his collar. "He or she was probably worried enough about you on the day you vanished that the rings called out to each other. That’s how the Aurors were able to find you under the rubble."
Draco tapped his wand on the bedside table. A small glass half-filled with a light blue liquid appeared. "To prevent future headaches," he explained.
Harry nodded, and then returned to his questioning. "So, where are they?"
Draco busied himself with re-buttoning his cardigan properly. "They, who?"
"Come on, Draco! Where's the person who saved my life? If they care about me so much, where have they been?"
Draco finished his fiddling, but took his time looking back to Harry as he picked up the potion. "His work is nearly as demanding as yours. He's been close, but the situation is - difficult. Nearly impossible," he muttered the last two words under his breath.
"He?" Harry asked, taking the cup.
"Drink. Yes, 'he'. Not what you were expecting?"
It tasted like lavender, honey and something bitter underneath the sweet. "I'm not sure." He set the empty glass down and pulled the ring out from his collar to study it. "It looks so much like a wedding band, I thought that it might have belonged to one of my parents."
"Perhaps it did."
"Hmm…" He studied the bit of gold in his hand and thought that it was probably the most beautiful thing he owned. Harry blinked. "Malfoy, what was in that potion?"
"Rest, now. I'll be back in a few hours."
The light glinting off the edges of the ring became a blurred, soft glow as Harry turned it round and round. He stared at it until his eyelids refused to work. His head and hands followed next, flopping back down to the bed without his permission. Before Harry fully realised what was happening, there were soft fingers tucking the ring away, and warm blankets tugged up under his chin. As the potion pulled him away from Draco, Harry thought he felt the brief press of a kiss against his temple.
~*~
He was warm - warm and very aware of his nose pressed into equally warm skin in the dip where neck and shoulder met. It presented a wonderful place to explore. Inhaling, Harry discovered a delicious spicy-soapy scent that seemed to be the exact recipe for lifting his cock and making him several degrees warmer.
He ignored the fact that he was probably dreaming, and explored the rest of the body spooned in front of him. He liked what his fingers discovered: smooth skin that was soft at the base of the ribs and then stretched tight over a hipbone. He ran his touch up and back a few times, tracing the contours. He smiled when he brushed a ticklish patch of skin and made his partner twitch.
Why can't all my dreams and memories be like this one? Harry thought as he opened his mouth to the skin under his lips, knowing - somehow - that he was welcome to dive into his research without being denied. As if reading Harry's mind, his partner moaned, deep and low.
A man.
Harry slipped his hand up and across an abdomen that made his own muscles tighten in response, and spread his fingers over a decidedly masculine chest. It wasn't as strange or foreign as he thought it would be - holding a man against him - in fact, there hadn't been any other experience in his life, that he could recall, that compared to how amazingly right he felt at the moment.
"Harry, touch me," whispered the voice. It was familiar, and yet he'd never heard it sound this way - so breathless. Perfect. Harry tried to lift his head to get a better view of the man, but his hand was caught and pushed down to exactly where he had hoped it's journey would end. Their entwined fingers worked in unison - sliding and tightening while Harry closed his eyes, and tried to catch his breath. He could feel his cock pulsing, wanting the same attention, but he focused instead on the body under his fingers. He wanted nothing more than to take his time with the man who was hungry for his touch - the man breathing out his name.
He nudged a knee and rolled forward, releasing a hiss when his cock slid into the warm place between two strong thighs, high enough to deliver the message without any misinterpretation.
The man pushed back into the contact uttering a chain of swear words that made Harry smile through his haze of arousal.
As Harry sucked on the tender skin of his partner's neck again, the man rolled his head back, breaking the contact, searching for Harry's mouth with his own. Harry knew it couldn't be a comfortable position for the other man, but he lost that thought when their mouths finally slid together.
The kiss was like finding a safe place to hide during a storm. It was a wet, hot conversation that didn't require words.
He wanted to look - wanted to know who was sharing his bed, his soul, his everything, and yet somehow, he didn't need to confirm his suspicions. Harry knew who he wanted it to be. He knew who it had to be.
He broke the kiss gently, but pushed the man onto his back with a force that spoke of how much Harry wanted him. Out of the corner of his eye, something glinted. It was lying on the pillow just above a pale shoulder - looped through a chain Harry had missed finding on his first exploration.
A ring.
The moment his fingers curled around it, Harry woke up. Panting, alone and harder than an oak, he swore loudly at the night scene above his bed. When a few concerned faces poked around his door, Harry grabbed a discarded sheet, curled onto his side to hide the problem between his legs and quickly tried to invent a reasonable explanation for his outburst.
~*~
Draco woke up on the leather loveseat in his office. He stood and stretched out the stiffness as best he could while trying to figure out just when he'd fallen asleep. He'd spent half the night sitting up with Harry, and nearly three more hours discussing Blaise's information with Harry's team of Aurors. He remembered it all wrapping up around five-ish and popping into his office before heading home for a few hours.
At least that had been the plan.
Through tired eyes, Draco squinted up at the snitch-shaped clock Harry had given him three Christmases back. Half eight. He knew he couldn't run on three hours of sleep, potions and adrenaline much longer. He felt like he'd been caught off-guard by a bludger or four. The past twenty-four hours had been professionally challenging and emotionally draining, but he didn't want to go home for some much needed sleep without checking in on Harry again, even though he hoped the beautiful idiot was still sleeping with the aid of the potion.
Draco knew something was off the moment he entered the room, and yet he tried a 'good morning' regardless, but Harry - awake and frowning - ignored the greeting and crossed his arms over his chest. Draco glanced quickly at the night report in his hand. It didn't mention anything of note in his absence except for one minor outburst of swearing, but with the heat of Harry's eyes tracking his every move, Draco knew the game was up.
"You drugged me!" Harry accused.
Fortunately, all of Draco's sleepless hours had given him time to think up the response he knew he would need. "You were in pain and recovering from trauma. I was doing my job - putting the interest of my patient first."
"Fuck off, Malfoy! You knocked me out instead of changing the subject like a normal person!"
Draco spent a thought on fabricating something technical to baffle Harry into submission, but the truth seemed easier. "I… Perhaps."
"Well?" Harry asked, giving him a look that he'd used countless times in their relationship. It meant that Draco had about a minute to explain himself before Harry decided where he would be sleeping that evening. It was so familiar that Draco nearly smiled - and would have - if he hadn't been so exhausted. He sat down in the chair that was still pulled up next to the bed.
"After your backlash, I thought it best that I didn't offer any new information. I apologise for the lie, and I'll admit that ethically, I did make a poor choice, but believe me when I say I did it to protect you."
Harry relaxed his arms and studied a stray thread on the coverlet - his anger seemed to have gone somewhere else for the moment. Draco tried to decide if the mood change was drastic enough to record. He didn't want to search for a symptom behind every reaction, but sometimes in his line of work, the insignificant revealed more than the obvious. From this point on, he wouldn't take any more chances with Harry's life.
"Is it because of the hand-holding thing?" Harry half-heartedly offered, interrupting Draco's thoughts. "That was nice, but I can live without it if it makes you uncomfortable. It was just good to hear something more about my life. Knowing there's someone out there who loves me, who saved my life - that meant a lot to me. But not having him here…"
"Harry, he's… I'm sorry." Draco looked down and swallowed. It was hard not to confess everything to this Harry. He was so close, nearly the same as the man he loved, but not close enough to risk everything. "I can't say anything more."
"It's just a few questions," Harry whispered. "I'm not asking for the entire book."
Draco looked up and tried to mask his grief with a half-smile. "I believe that you deserve to know, and you will, just not yet."
"Maybe it will help trigger a new memory..."
Draco slipped back into Healer mode. "…Which could cause another episode." He ignored the look Harry gave him. "Seeing as the last one was incredibly dangerous and has yet to be analysed, I'm sure you can understand why I want to tread lightly." Draco kept his voice low. Can we at least agree that my concern is for your safety and well-being?"
"Yeah, I know." Harry pushed back the covers, and sat up facing Draco. "How close are we?"
"To what?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Our friendship, you idiot."
Draco shook his head in mock-disbelief. "Was I not clear on why we're not talking about personal details right now?" He looked up in time to see Harry press his lips together, the way his Harry would do on the odd occasion when he was nervous. Draco watched those lips until a hand landed on his knee.
"Because if we're close, this must be hard on you too."
Draco tried to find the will to get up and walk away. He'd done it only hours before - granted, he'd had to drug Harry to do it - but it had been the best thing for the both of them, according to the weary voice in the back of his mind. Another part of him wanted to stay, to look up and search the eyes he knew for hints that Harry had remembered more than he was letting on.
The slow stroke of Harry's roaming thumb chipped away at Draco's resolve and turned the internal warning bells into a tolerable melody. He needed to either move away or move closer, but he wasn't sure which would be more damaging. He settled on taking Harry's hand in his own, and sharing some of the truth.
"It was horrible when you vanished. They found you quickly enough, considering, but for the people who care for you, it wasn't fast enough. Knowing that you're alive and safe now makes the rest easier to deal with."
"Everyone's been so great - Ron's family and everybody here, but there still feels like so much more is missing. I feel… I don't even know what to call it - cold - hollow, maybe?"
Draco's heart broke to hear the words. With a silent wish that there was more he could do to fill the emptiness, he asked, "Would you like to talk about it?"
"It feels like I know everything and nothing at the same time. I have to re-learn and re-live everything all over again. The worst part is knowing that everybody else knows who I'm friends with, what I do for a living and who I become, but I just get - crumbs!" Harry took his hand away and settled back against the headboard. A new indicator light began pulsing on the wall as Harry voiced his final question to no one in particular. "Don't I deserve to know?"
Draco wanted so badly to reach out, but he stayed where he was, allowing Harry the time to rant if he needed to. He helplessly watched as Harry's cheeks showed signs of rising colour and his hands fisted the sheets. The indicator light changed from white to orange and blinked faster.
"Oh, but it's all for my own good, of course!" Harry continued, slight bitterness creeping into his tone. He got to his feet, looking angrier by the second. Draco pushed his chair back to make room, only half-startled by the outburst. All at once the bed shot backward and every sensor in the room abruptly petered out. Suddenly Harry was all Draco could see - leaning in, hands planted on the arms of the chair. The intensity of emotion took Draco's breath away. The anger he had seen just a moment ago had been replaced by an unfamiliar, predatory leer that made Draco's skin crawl. He fought the impulse to call for help, and then wondered if that would be a costly mistake.
Harry closed the distance until only a few inches separated them. Draco's heart thundered as he was studied at close range. A vivid image of a hawk and mouse came to mind.
"Isn't it odd that I don't know where I live, but I can do this?"
One quick gesture and the door vanished. Another smooth, dipping sweep of Harry's hand and Draco's chair went the way of the door. Before he realised he should be falling, Draco found himself up against the wall with a warm body pressed against him. His breath rushed out as his mind spun. He tried to push away, but Harry was caged around him so tightly he couldn't raise his arms.
Gone was the childlike Harry of only a few days ago, swapped with someone closer to his own Harry, and yet still worlds away. A strange blend of panic and arousal pushed away any clarity of thought. Draco's body thrummed with the electricity of Harry surrounding him, and it warred with the annoying voice of reason telling him that this Harry was probably emotionally unstable, and he’d best call for help as soon as possible.
Draco was half-listening to see if anyone had noticed the door had gone, but knowing Harry's magic the way he did, he knew the Aurors in the corridor were probably unaware of the change. They would be seeing whatever Harry wanted them to see.
~*~
Thank you for your comments and your love for H/D!
Chapter 5
"You know who's behind Harry's attack," Draco stated, calling on his acting skills to appear calmer than he felt.
Blaise crossed his legs and settled back into the chair looking slightly impressed. "So do you - you just don't know it yet."
Draco stumbled out of the Floo network still wearing his pyjamas. He only slowed his frantic rush toward Harry's room when the smooth chill of marble on his bare feet became too much to ignore.
Shoes.
He had a hurried debate with himself about whether or not to stop by his office for the spare pair he kept, or just charge ahead, cold feet and sanitation be damned. Professionalism and a shred of remaining sanity won out as he took the first left and passed a young witch he didn't know pushing a potions trolley toward the lab. She gasped, startled as he ran by, but to Draco's relief, she didn't trigger the alarms.
He pressed his palm to the door of his office and it opened silently for him. The room was dark, but the light from the hallway was enough to do the job. A quick glance up to the portrait on the back wall revealed a peaceful countryside, but no Severus.
Shoes on, and pyjamas hastily transfigured, Draco turned to leave. A man stood silhouetted in doorway. Before Draco could speak, the figure quickly stepped inside and pulled the door closed, plunging them both into darkness. Draco dove blindly toward the desk, hoping he had judged the distance correctly - not that it would offer much protection if his attacker started throwing curses.
"Lumos," said the intruder.
As the room filled with a soft glow, the calm, almost bored tone of voice triggered Draco's memory. He tried to steady his rapid breathing and chanced a peek around the side of his hiding place. "Blaise?"
Blaise was dressed from head to foot in black, and Draco noticed that he was now bald, but the look suited. Even with light shining out from his own wand, Blaise, with his dark skin and frozen posture seemed to almost disappear into the shadows behind him. "We need to talk."
Draco brushed himself off. His ring gently pulsed with warmth, reminding him why he was standing in his office in the middle of the night. His irritation grew.
"Poor time for a dramatic visit, Blaise. I need to check on a patient, and then you can talk all you like."
"This concerns him," he said, helping himself to a chair.
Draco righted his own chair and studied his former schoolmate with new scrutiny. He thought briefly about calling for the Aurors or possibly Severus, but changed his mind as an idea made its way into his thoughts. Once a Slytherin…
"You know who's behind Harry's attack," Draco stated, calling on his acting skills to appear calmer than he felt.
Blaise crossed his legs and settled back into the chair looking slightly impressed. "So do you - you just don't know it yet."
Draco drew his wand and stood to leave as he took the bluff one step further. "If you're done talking in riddles…"
"He needs to be stopped, for his own good if nothing else."
Suddenly confused, Draco dropped his guard. "Harry? Was this an attempt to…"
"No, no. I don't believe it's anything personal-although…"
"Begin making some sense, or I'll have Aurors down here before you can…"
"It's Gregory."
Draco blinked. "Goyle? He can't walk and whistle a tune. What makes you think he's the one?"
"He told me - practically shouted it to the towers. We had business a while back, and he'd had a pint or two."
Draco lowered his wand and sat on the edge of his desk. He doubted Goyle was capable of planning an attack, but since it was the first lead to surface, Draco decided to hear Blaise out. "He's leading the Red Masks?"
"No. Yes." Blaise shrugged. "It's hardly even an organisation, just four or five idiots who have too much time on their hands and share his thirst to continue the war as best they can."
"Sounds like a pile of Doxie Droppings. Why would they…"
"How would I know? Between you and me, his broom never did fly straight. More than a few flobberworms have been missing from his barrel since your husband…"
"And where do you stand, Blaise? If I recall correctly, your family was conveniently missing at all the trials."
"I told you - I want Goyle stopped. I like my life and my endeavours to be organised. War is untidy and bad for business. Besides, he's an embarrassment - always has been, and you know it! ”
Draco swallowed and tried to rein in his anger. Blaise's less than legal business had been a thorn in Harry's side for nearly four years. Worse than the legal issues, were the injuries and poisonings Draco dealt with as a result of Blaise's livelihood.
“And how is the underground blood-potion trade treating you?” Draco asked flatly.
Blaise exhaled and ran a hand over his smooth head. “This isn’t about me, Malfoy. True, Potter and his friends make it hard for an alternative business man to turn much of a profit at times, but after reading about his condition in the Prophet, I thought you had a right to know which direction to point the Aurors.”
"You could be working with Goyle, using his underlings and Harry's injury to draw the Aurors away from paying too much attention to your own interests." Draco waited, his anger simmering, but Blaise refused to bite at the bait.
"I would have thought you'd be more grateful for my part in helping your husband."
"I am grateful, grateful I'm not obtuse enough to swallow your story whole. I haven't seen you in years, Blaise, and yet here you are with a helpful hint served up on a plate of what, compassion for Harry Potter? How do I know you're not the one behind the new masks and not Goyle?”
"You don't." Blaise stood, eyes showing emotion for the first time. "Take it or leave it. If you consider that I entered a hospital crawling with Aurors to give you this information, that might help you believe my motives." He paused and lowered his voice. "True, I won't be buying any Potter memorabilia, but you and I were good friends once. I regret that some of our choices have sent us in different directions."
Draco took a deliberate step forward. "If you were involved, and Harry doesn't make a full recovery, the Aurors will be the least of your worries." His threat delivered, he stepped around his former friend and out of his office without caring if Blaise stood there all night.
~*~
Harry listened to the soft rustle of leaves while his mind took its time remembering how to open his eyelids. He ached, but it was manageable, pushed down and muffled, and made infinitely better by the calming nature sounds and the warm hand wrapped around his own.
He opened his eyes and blinked a few times to focus. Hundreds of wispy willow shoots, heavy with green and yellow leaves swayed in a breeze he could see and hear, but not feel. He caught glimpses of a perfect blue sky and pale spring sun through the greenery, but the warmth of it never reached him.
The hand pulled away quickly, and Harry turned his head to see Draco pushing his chair back a little from the bed.
"I like the new ceiling," Harry said, coughing afterward. His mouth felt like it had been recently filled with sand.
"Here. Have some water. Slowly." Draco glanced upward. "Thought you might like a change of scenery when you woke up."
Harry watched as Malfoy took a seat again. There was something off about the wrinkled uniform and hastily buttoned white cardigan, but they seemed to match the tired eyes and the sleep crease on his cheek left by the imprint of a blanket - or fingers pressed into skin.
"You slept here?" Harry rubbed the sleep out of his eyes, and suddenly wished he had clean teeth or a plate of sausages. He couldn't decide which urge was more immediate.
"They called me in when you were in crisis. I didn't want to leave in case there was a second wave," Draco said, waving his wand to check Harry's vitals. Numbers and strange symbols appeared on the wall beside the bed.
Harry forgot the sausages when Draco rolled his neck back and rubbed out the kinks. It had been a rough night for them both.
"Thank you."
Draco wore a tired, but honest smile. "It's my pleasure."
Harry was suddenly glad that the old Harry and Draco had put aside their differences and become friends. He just wished he could remember more.
"I recovered a good chunk of memories last night, but I'm not sure I want to do that again if it's going to hurt so much," Harry admitted.
Draco stopped recording the medical information and gave his full attention back to Harry. "How much have you remembered?"
"End of the war, maybe a month or two more." A sharp, short burst of pain forced his eyes closed as memory he'd already recovered came back with vivid clarity. He felt the cold, damp ground under his dying body as a woman whispered against his ear. Harry forced his eyes open and grabbed Draco's hand. "Your mother, Draco, she… In the forest, she saved me. She saved everyone."
Draco moved his free hand to the water glass, but Harry waved him off. The urgency of the memory faded, and he suddenly felt strange and immature for grabbing Draco. There was a gentle squeeze just before Harry let him have his hand back.
"I never knew if it was an act of bravery or self-preservation. I suppose it doesn't matter now."
"She was willing to betray him for a hint that you were still alive." Harry stopped for a moment when Draco looked away. "Maybe we're not supposed to understand it. I think it's just what mothers do."
Draco shrugged and gave Harry a hint of a smile. "Perhaps you're right. I'm convinced all mothers become a different breed of creature when their children are threatened."
Harry nodded and gave Draco's words some thought. He tried to picture his own mother protecting him. He wondered if she had time to realise that she was only thing left standing between her enemy and her son. She gave him life - more than once, and she had been there with him - even at the end. He knew there was no point in wondering 'what if' when it came to the life he'd been dealt, but he still felt guilt and emptiness for the price she had paid.
With the war memories still fresh in his mind, he wondered if his older self still carried the weight of all the other souls who'd fallen during the last battle.
He finally rolled toward Draco and stuck an arm under the pillow. He didn't know what to think of their conversation or his wandering thoughts. He was tired enough that he thought he might be dreaming it all up, though he was fairly sure it was real.
Draco was another mystery he couldn't quite figure out. One day he was just a Healer, next he was an old enemy, and now… "You said we eventually become close friends. Did your mother bring us together?"
Draco's smile held a touch of sadness. "In a way, I suppose. You testified on her behalf, and I began to understand who you really were, even back then. You challenged me to become my own man and badgered me into becoming someone who was worth a second chance."
"Do you miss him - the other me?"
Draco inhaled slowly and took a minute before answering. "Yes, and no. He's here - he's you - but a version of you I don't get to see very often. I imagine it's much harder from your end, getting tossed around your own timeline without warning."
"Most of the time it's not too bad," Harry said, watching Draco swirl out a few notes on his pad. "The memories were coming a few at a time, and it wasn't so hard to manage, but last night I thought it was going to kill me. There was just too much information pouring in all at once and the pain was so bad. It felt like my head was splitting."
Draco paused the quill and touched Harry's hand briefly. "I'm sorry I wasn't here. I should have been."
"It's ok," Harry said, looking up again. For the first time, he truly saw the concern of a friend reflected in the tired eyes staring back at him. He spread his fingers, slowly and waited. Without comment, Draco curled his fingers into the waiting spaces. It was new, and probably not professional in the least, but it filled the loneliness, even if it wasn't going to last. "You're here now. What happened, anyway? Why was it so bad this time?"
"I'm afraid that might be my fault," Draco said quietly, staring down at their hands. ”The brain is a strange animal. By giving you one of my memories, the other Healers and I believe that it disrupted the order your mind had set up to cope with this situation."
Harry raised his eyebrows. "There was an order?"
Draco chuckled. "Maybe one that doesn't make sense to us, but it certainly let us know that my memory wasn't welcome in your head - at least not yet. I'm sorry."
"It's all right. Don't blame yourself." Harry rubbed at his eyes with his free hand and sank deeper into his pillows. He looked up and watched the blue sky sweep in and out of the sway of the willow. The forgotten ring on his chest grew warm. He played with it through the fabric. Malfoy cleared his throat. When Harry looked up, Draco was intently studying the water tray.
"You're my friend, so you know about this ring, right?"
Draco swallowed. "Harry, it's really not my place to…"
"Do you know whose it is?"
"It's yours," Draco said quickly, reclaiming his hand. Harry felt the warmth run away from his skin. Draco looked up at the door, but Harry captured his hand again before he could make a polite escape.
"Nice try. I mean, yes, I know it must be mine now, because I'm wearing it, but I took it off the chain earlier and tried it on. It doesn't fit any of my fingers."
Draco tugged gently, but Harry refused to release the hand. Draco exhaled and closed his eyes as if gathering strength. "Harry, this isn't something we should discuss right now. I really shouldn't have…"
"I don't have any memory of it, so I know I must get it after the war, but before my accident," he said, taking a moment to catch Draco's eyes. The raw emotion he saw before Malfoy shut it down was shocking. Draco's hand slid from his as he wondered if he'd taken his questioning too far. "I'm just really curious about it, that's all," he finished flatly.
"It saved your life," Draco whispered to the floor.
"It's got a tracking spell or something, right? It got so hot when I was in the cave, but I'm guessing it was some sort of a warning system."
"Yes. Your job - your future occupation - comes with its share of danger. The ring connects you to the person who gave it to you and alerts them if you're seriously injured or, Merlin forbid, dead." Draco paused and took a few more deep breaths. Pink blotches were showing along his collar. "He or she was probably worried enough about you on the day you vanished that the rings called out to each other. That’s how the Aurors were able to find you under the rubble."
Draco tapped his wand on the bedside table. A small glass half-filled with a light blue liquid appeared. "To prevent future headaches," he explained.
Harry nodded, and then returned to his questioning. "So, where are they?"
Draco busied himself with re-buttoning his cardigan properly. "They, who?"
"Come on, Draco! Where's the person who saved my life? If they care about me so much, where have they been?"
Draco finished his fiddling, but took his time looking back to Harry as he picked up the potion. "His work is nearly as demanding as yours. He's been close, but the situation is - difficult. Nearly impossible," he muttered the last two words under his breath.
"He?" Harry asked, taking the cup.
"Drink. Yes, 'he'. Not what you were expecting?"
It tasted like lavender, honey and something bitter underneath the sweet. "I'm not sure." He set the empty glass down and pulled the ring out from his collar to study it. "It looks so much like a wedding band, I thought that it might have belonged to one of my parents."
"Perhaps it did."
"Hmm…" He studied the bit of gold in his hand and thought that it was probably the most beautiful thing he owned. Harry blinked. "Malfoy, what was in that potion?"
"Rest, now. I'll be back in a few hours."
The light glinting off the edges of the ring became a blurred, soft glow as Harry turned it round and round. He stared at it until his eyelids refused to work. His head and hands followed next, flopping back down to the bed without his permission. Before Harry fully realised what was happening, there were soft fingers tucking the ring away, and warm blankets tugged up under his chin. As the potion pulled him away from Draco, Harry thought he felt the brief press of a kiss against his temple.
~*~
He was warm - warm and very aware of his nose pressed into equally warm skin in the dip where neck and shoulder met. It presented a wonderful place to explore. Inhaling, Harry discovered a delicious spicy-soapy scent that seemed to be the exact recipe for lifting his cock and making him several degrees warmer.
He ignored the fact that he was probably dreaming, and explored the rest of the body spooned in front of him. He liked what his fingers discovered: smooth skin that was soft at the base of the ribs and then stretched tight over a hipbone. He ran his touch up and back a few times, tracing the contours. He smiled when he brushed a ticklish patch of skin and made his partner twitch.
Why can't all my dreams and memories be like this one? Harry thought as he opened his mouth to the skin under his lips, knowing - somehow - that he was welcome to dive into his research without being denied. As if reading Harry's mind, his partner moaned, deep and low.
A man.
Harry slipped his hand up and across an abdomen that made his own muscles tighten in response, and spread his fingers over a decidedly masculine chest. It wasn't as strange or foreign as he thought it would be - holding a man against him - in fact, there hadn't been any other experience in his life, that he could recall, that compared to how amazingly right he felt at the moment.
"Harry, touch me," whispered the voice. It was familiar, and yet he'd never heard it sound this way - so breathless. Perfect. Harry tried to lift his head to get a better view of the man, but his hand was caught and pushed down to exactly where he had hoped it's journey would end. Their entwined fingers worked in unison - sliding and tightening while Harry closed his eyes, and tried to catch his breath. He could feel his cock pulsing, wanting the same attention, but he focused instead on the body under his fingers. He wanted nothing more than to take his time with the man who was hungry for his touch - the man breathing out his name.
He nudged a knee and rolled forward, releasing a hiss when his cock slid into the warm place between two strong thighs, high enough to deliver the message without any misinterpretation.
The man pushed back into the contact uttering a chain of swear words that made Harry smile through his haze of arousal.
As Harry sucked on the tender skin of his partner's neck again, the man rolled his head back, breaking the contact, searching for Harry's mouth with his own. Harry knew it couldn't be a comfortable position for the other man, but he lost that thought when their mouths finally slid together.
The kiss was like finding a safe place to hide during a storm. It was a wet, hot conversation that didn't require words.
He wanted to look - wanted to know who was sharing his bed, his soul, his everything, and yet somehow, he didn't need to confirm his suspicions. Harry knew who he wanted it to be. He knew who it had to be.
He broke the kiss gently, but pushed the man onto his back with a force that spoke of how much Harry wanted him. Out of the corner of his eye, something glinted. It was lying on the pillow just above a pale shoulder - looped through a chain Harry had missed finding on his first exploration.
A ring.
The moment his fingers curled around it, Harry woke up. Panting, alone and harder than an oak, he swore loudly at the night scene above his bed. When a few concerned faces poked around his door, Harry grabbed a discarded sheet, curled onto his side to hide the problem between his legs and quickly tried to invent a reasonable explanation for his outburst.
~*~
Draco woke up on the leather loveseat in his office. He stood and stretched out the stiffness as best he could while trying to figure out just when he'd fallen asleep. He'd spent half the night sitting up with Harry, and nearly three more hours discussing Blaise's information with Harry's team of Aurors. He remembered it all wrapping up around five-ish and popping into his office before heading home for a few hours.
At least that had been the plan.
Through tired eyes, Draco squinted up at the snitch-shaped clock Harry had given him three Christmases back. Half eight. He knew he couldn't run on three hours of sleep, potions and adrenaline much longer. He felt like he'd been caught off-guard by a bludger or four. The past twenty-four hours had been professionally challenging and emotionally draining, but he didn't want to go home for some much needed sleep without checking in on Harry again, even though he hoped the beautiful idiot was still sleeping with the aid of the potion.
Draco knew something was off the moment he entered the room, and yet he tried a 'good morning' regardless, but Harry - awake and frowning - ignored the greeting and crossed his arms over his chest. Draco glanced quickly at the night report in his hand. It didn't mention anything of note in his absence except for one minor outburst of swearing, but with the heat of Harry's eyes tracking his every move, Draco knew the game was up.
"You drugged me!" Harry accused.
Fortunately, all of Draco's sleepless hours had given him time to think up the response he knew he would need. "You were in pain and recovering from trauma. I was doing my job - putting the interest of my patient first."
"Fuck off, Malfoy! You knocked me out instead of changing the subject like a normal person!"
Draco spent a thought on fabricating something technical to baffle Harry into submission, but the truth seemed easier. "I… Perhaps."
"Well?" Harry asked, giving him a look that he'd used countless times in their relationship. It meant that Draco had about a minute to explain himself before Harry decided where he would be sleeping that evening. It was so familiar that Draco nearly smiled - and would have - if he hadn't been so exhausted. He sat down in the chair that was still pulled up next to the bed.
"After your backlash, I thought it best that I didn't offer any new information. I apologise for the lie, and I'll admit that ethically, I did make a poor choice, but believe me when I say I did it to protect you."
Harry relaxed his arms and studied a stray thread on the coverlet - his anger seemed to have gone somewhere else for the moment. Draco tried to decide if the mood change was drastic enough to record. He didn't want to search for a symptom behind every reaction, but sometimes in his line of work, the insignificant revealed more than the obvious. From this point on, he wouldn't take any more chances with Harry's life.
"Is it because of the hand-holding thing?" Harry half-heartedly offered, interrupting Draco's thoughts. "That was nice, but I can live without it if it makes you uncomfortable. It was just good to hear something more about my life. Knowing there's someone out there who loves me, who saved my life - that meant a lot to me. But not having him here…"
"Harry, he's… I'm sorry." Draco looked down and swallowed. It was hard not to confess everything to this Harry. He was so close, nearly the same as the man he loved, but not close enough to risk everything. "I can't say anything more."
"It's just a few questions," Harry whispered. "I'm not asking for the entire book."
Draco looked up and tried to mask his grief with a half-smile. "I believe that you deserve to know, and you will, just not yet."
"Maybe it will help trigger a new memory..."
Draco slipped back into Healer mode. "…Which could cause another episode." He ignored the look Harry gave him. "Seeing as the last one was incredibly dangerous and has yet to be analysed, I'm sure you can understand why I want to tread lightly." Draco kept his voice low. Can we at least agree that my concern is for your safety and well-being?"
"Yeah, I know." Harry pushed back the covers, and sat up facing Draco. "How close are we?"
"To what?"
Harry rolled his eyes. "Our friendship, you idiot."
Draco shook his head in mock-disbelief. "Was I not clear on why we're not talking about personal details right now?" He looked up in time to see Harry press his lips together, the way his Harry would do on the odd occasion when he was nervous. Draco watched those lips until a hand landed on his knee.
"Because if we're close, this must be hard on you too."
Draco tried to find the will to get up and walk away. He'd done it only hours before - granted, he'd had to drug Harry to do it - but it had been the best thing for the both of them, according to the weary voice in the back of his mind. Another part of him wanted to stay, to look up and search the eyes he knew for hints that Harry had remembered more than he was letting on.
The slow stroke of Harry's roaming thumb chipped away at Draco's resolve and turned the internal warning bells into a tolerable melody. He needed to either move away or move closer, but he wasn't sure which would be more damaging. He settled on taking Harry's hand in his own, and sharing some of the truth.
"It was horrible when you vanished. They found you quickly enough, considering, but for the people who care for you, it wasn't fast enough. Knowing that you're alive and safe now makes the rest easier to deal with."
"Everyone's been so great - Ron's family and everybody here, but there still feels like so much more is missing. I feel… I don't even know what to call it - cold - hollow, maybe?"
Draco's heart broke to hear the words. With a silent wish that there was more he could do to fill the emptiness, he asked, "Would you like to talk about it?"
"It feels like I know everything and nothing at the same time. I have to re-learn and re-live everything all over again. The worst part is knowing that everybody else knows who I'm friends with, what I do for a living and who I become, but I just get - crumbs!" Harry took his hand away and settled back against the headboard. A new indicator light began pulsing on the wall as Harry voiced his final question to no one in particular. "Don't I deserve to know?"
Draco wanted so badly to reach out, but he stayed where he was, allowing Harry the time to rant if he needed to. He helplessly watched as Harry's cheeks showed signs of rising colour and his hands fisted the sheets. The indicator light changed from white to orange and blinked faster.
"Oh, but it's all for my own good, of course!" Harry continued, slight bitterness creeping into his tone. He got to his feet, looking angrier by the second. Draco pushed his chair back to make room, only half-startled by the outburst. All at once the bed shot backward and every sensor in the room abruptly petered out. Suddenly Harry was all Draco could see - leaning in, hands planted on the arms of the chair. The intensity of emotion took Draco's breath away. The anger he had seen just a moment ago had been replaced by an unfamiliar, predatory leer that made Draco's skin crawl. He fought the impulse to call for help, and then wondered if that would be a costly mistake.
Harry closed the distance until only a few inches separated them. Draco's heart thundered as he was studied at close range. A vivid image of a hawk and mouse came to mind.
"Isn't it odd that I don't know where I live, but I can do this?"
One quick gesture and the door vanished. Another smooth, dipping sweep of Harry's hand and Draco's chair went the way of the door. Before he realised he should be falling, Draco found himself up against the wall with a warm body pressed against him. His breath rushed out as his mind spun. He tried to push away, but Harry was caged around him so tightly he couldn't raise his arms.
Gone was the childlike Harry of only a few days ago, swapped with someone closer to his own Harry, and yet still worlds away. A strange blend of panic and arousal pushed away any clarity of thought. Draco's body thrummed with the electricity of Harry surrounding him, and it warred with the annoying voice of reason telling him that this Harry was probably emotionally unstable, and he’d best call for help as soon as possible.
Draco was half-listening to see if anyone had noticed the door had gone, but knowing Harry's magic the way he did, he knew the Aurors in the corridor were probably unaware of the change. They would be seeing whatever Harry wanted them to see.
~*~
Thank you for your comments and your love for H/D!
Chapter 5