Misplaced Memories - Chapter 5/10
Well, dear readers, here we are at the half-way point. Buckle-up. This ride is a bumpy one.
*hugs*
"Harry, some space - please."
The suggestion made sense in his mind, but his body rejected the idea. Harry pressed a little closer, rested his head on Draco's shoulder and took a few more deep breaths with his nose buried in the weave of the warm cardigan. He didn't know what to do with all the emotions and impulses stirred up by the simple act of breathing. He tried again to let go and silently asked his magic, and whichever gods were listening, to help him get a hold of himself. The unexpected answer came with a flare of heat that escaped through his hands, melted into the wall and sprouted ties that wrapped gently, but firmly around Draco's wrists and ankles.
Harry shoved his face into the base of Draco's neck and inhaled. It brought the dream back with striking detail. He moaned, loving the way it felt to finally connect, to feel a heart pounding so close to his and to bathe in the heat radiating off them both. Draco froze under him as Harry experimented, brushing his lips lightly over the warm skin. It was a hundred times better than the dream.
“Perfect.” He smiled as Draco shivered.
"Harry, some space - please."
The suggestion made sense in his mind, but his body rejected the idea. Harry pressed a little closer, rested his head on Draco's shoulder and took a few more deep breaths with his nose buried in the weave of the warm cardigan. He didn't know what to do with all the emotions and impulses stirred up by the simple act of breathing. He tried again to let go and silently asked his magic, and whichever gods were listening, to help him get a hold of himself. The unexpected answer came with a flare of heat that escaped through his hands, melted into the wall and sprouted ties that wrapped gently, but firmly around Draco's wrists and ankles.
"Potter," Draco warned, his voice low and controlled.
"I know!"
He tried to even out his breathing, rein in his magic and step back, but the more he tried, the more Draco's warmth and scent surrounded him, filling his head with images that were both arousing and aggravating. He closed his eyes and the reality of the bone-deep loneliness he suddenly felt, made his heart ache strangely. He slid his cheek along Draco's jaw and took another deep breath "Fuck, Draco, you smell so much like the man from my dream."
Draco dragged in a few breaths before speaking again.
"You never mentioned another dream." Draco turned his head away, but the action of revealing more of his neck drew Harry in like a magnet.
"I was angry, remember? I thought I might have been seeing things - like the dream was a side effect of the potion. Whatever it was, it felt so real." Harry got a jolt of arousal as his mind replayed some of the very best images.
He pulled his head up slowly and studied Draco's face until he had his captive's full attention. There were so many answers hidden behind those grey eyes, an intimacy stronger, deeper than good friends. Much more. Half of him wanted to release Draco - and his fingers tingled with the unspoken command - but there was also a voice that urged him to take advantage of the golden opportunity laid out in front of him, strapped to the wall. He knew without hesitation that he was the stronger man - magically and physically - regardless of his mental age, but he also had a feeling that Draco had cards he had yet to show as well. Still, Harry couldn't pass up the chance to see if he could press Draco for a little more information. Also, the sight of Malfoy, pink-flushed and at Harry's mercy created too tempting a picture to ignore.
"It was a memory, wasn't it?" Harry asked, lowering his mouth again to whisper against Draco's ear. "My body knows you. I can feel it."
"It's alright," Draco said, quietly. "Breathe, Harry. Just listen to me and try to stay calm. You've been though a lot in the past few days. I'm in contact with you the most, so, naturally you've become accustomed to…"
An image from the end of the dream resurfaced, and Harry ignored the words to run a hand slowly over Draco's chest, stealing away whatever he'd been trying to say. Harry paused once he felt the tell tale bump he had hoped would be there. He levitated it out from Draco's shirt until it hovered between them, still attached to the chain.
"The man I dreamt about had a ring just like yours."
"It's a gold band, Potter. They are all relatively similar." Draco's voice was steady, but a thin sheen of perspiration appeared on his brow.
Harry couldn't stop his fingers from wrapping around Draco's jaw, or pull his eyes away from a face he seemed to truly be seeing for the first time. It was difficult for a moment to connect the man in front of him with the Malfoy Harry knew from the past. There was a maturity reflected in his tired eyes, an entire life there that Harry wanted to know about.
"Who gave this to you?"
"I've told you more than I should have already. Harry, this is more complicated than you know," Draco said, confidence flowing back into his tone. "Please don't push this. You still have a chance to let me go without incident."
Something about the way Draco could maintain authority while being the one trapped against the wall made Harry smile. "I have a theory," he said, releasing Draco's face. He took a step back. His own ring slithered out of his shirt and hovered next to Draco's. With another thought, the ties binding Draco melted out of existence. "Give me your finger."
"What? No," Draco refused, crossing his arms.
Harry held out his hand and watched as the rings slipped through their chains and drifted down onto his waiting palm without Draco's permission. When he looked up, Draco's eyes were narrowed, but he stayed silent as Harry reached to untangle his arms. When Harry's ring slid perfectly home on Draco's third finger, Harry felt his heart give an extra thud.
He wasn't surprised when the other ring was a perfect fit on his own hand. "You're him. You stubborn ass! Why couldn't you just tell me?"
Draco refolded his arms, tucking the ring out of sight. For the first time, Harry saw a flash of the Malfoy he remembered from Hogwarts, but in an instant it was gone again, replaced by someone who was busy avoiding Harry's eyes.
Harry waited, but when no answer came, he took a deep breath and tried again. "I had a strong feeling it was you, but I didn't know for sure. I know I'm not going about this the right way, but I won't sit here while my whole life's being kept from me. I'm collecting the pieces, trying to wait, like you all want me to, but I can't. Draco, you know I'm not set up that way." He looked down at the space between them and felt the heat of Draco's skin leaving him. He held his ground, but laid his left hand over the place where Draco's arms crossed. His ring picked up the light and brought a weary smile to his face.
"Didn't think I'd notice that you knew more about me than anyone else: how I take my tea, my favourite food, what I like to wear? Our rings fit each other, Draco. I should hate you for all of the lies, but I can't right now." The ring grew warm on his finger. "You saved my life." Haunted eyes met his, telling Harry he wasn't the only one that felt the pulse. "This just feels right. He slid his way along Draco's arm and under the crook of an elbow until the rings brushed against each other and grew warmer still. "You feel right."
Draco's voice was a broken whisper when it came. "Harry..."
"Why didn't you just tell me how close you were to him - to me?"
"Is that what you would have done, had our roles been reversed?" Draco asked, leaning his head back against the wall.
Harry stroked the fingers under his, and couldn't stop his other hand from moving to Draco's shoulder. His fingers wanted to touch that delicious neck, but he held back - barely. He took it as a good sign when Draco didn't push him away.
"I asked you first," Harry said.
Draco closed his eyes for a moment and then inhaled slowly. When he released the breath, Harry noticed another story written across Draco's brow - the one that told of many hours of missed sleep, silent grief and a touch of bitterness. Still, it didn't take away the excitement of Harry's recent discovery. He could almost wait for more answers if it meant they could spend the next few hours kissing the pain away, curing the ache he knew they both felt.
"You had the memories of a ten-year old Muggle when you woke up. How do you think that would have gone over? Welcome to St Mungo's, Master Potter. My name is Draco Malfoy, and I'll be your Healer and - oh yes - husband for the duration of your stay!"
Relief flooded through him. married! It was better than permission. Without thinking, Harry pulled off his jumper and banished Draco's clothes from the waist up for good measure. When the warm skin of their chests connected at the same time as their lips, Harry knew there was no better medicine in the world.
Draco gasped in surprise at the contact and made an attempt to say something, but Harry pressed in again until his mouth made sure Draco's had something better to do. It was brilliant. He didn't know where to touch first, but his fingers burned with an urgency he'd never felt before. They moved on their own up Draco's throat and into the warm, fine hair. He closed his fists and pulled back firmly, letting instinct take over. Draco's eyelids closed and a moan escaped his lips. Harry could only stare at the picture they made. It was beautiful, familiar, even though he couldn't ever remember touching Malfoy this way.
As the pause lengthened, Draco's eyes opened and Harry suddenly remembered they had a bed nearby. Before he could stop the words, they tumbled out. "I thought it was just a dream, but I hoped it was real. Fuck, Draco, you were so beautiful naked. I want you."
Draco fought to control his breathing as he latched onto Harry's forearms. "Gods, I want…" He opened his eyes, but it took a second for him to focus. Then Harry saw the answer written all over Draco's pained expression. "No, we can't. At this point in your recovery, you haven't - you've never..." He freed one of his hands and gestured at their bodies.
Harry tried to control his frustration, but he'd heard enough no for a lifetime. He didn't want to force the issue, but his body was done with the chatter and was more than willing to tie Draco to something else in order to prove just how much he didn't need a Healer's opinion at the moment.
"I don't care if my brain hasn't filled in all the gaps yet. I'm still him - me, and we're together, right?"
"Yes - no. You have no idea of the…"
"I've got more than a good idea." He shoved his hips forward and felt a rush of power as he watched Draco's composure crumble. "I've been hard since that dream and it wasn't nearly as amazing as having you here, now. It's not advanced potions, Malfoy. Want to bet I can figure out which part goes where?"
As if a demonstration was needed, Harry dove in and kissed Draco passionately in an attempt to put an end to the protests. For good measure, he reached down and gripped Draco firmly between the legs. The sounds of surprise and pleasure that came from them both, made Harry feel invincible. He wasn't playing fair, he knew, but as the seconds ticked on, he could feel Draco yielding, submitting and falling into a rhythm that was quickly picking up speed.
Draco's left arm slid up and around until the faded Dark Mark rested across Harry’s shoulders. The memory of their first duel slipped into his head, along with another image - one he definitely hadn't seen before. It was a picture of Draco, body flushed with arousal, stretched out on a bed - their bed - with his arms resting above his head, the skull and snake plainly in view.
Then Harry remembered something else he could do.
It was nearly impossible to describe the transformation from speaking English to Parseltongue - it was more than a language, it had weight, texture. He slipped into it like a warm bath - a second skin.
"It was an accident the first time. I spoke to the mark just to see what would happen."
Draco gasped for air like a drowning man and clasped Harry's face in his hands.
"Nothing happened to the snake, but you got so hard. I remember what you looked like." Harry smiled at the memory while massaging Draco through his trousers. Draco moaned wet kisses against the side of his mouth. "All mine.
"Harry, oh, fuck!"
"Mmm… Why did we wait so long to get together?" Harry wondered, moving his lips until they brushed the shell of Draco's ear. "Think what we could have been doing instead of hating each other all those years."
For a few blissful moments, Draco was his completely. Harry closed his eyes and let their bodies take over. He moved instinctively, pulling Draco closer, touching all the right places without questioning how he knew what he was doing. Acting on impulse, he Apparated them the short distance to the bed. Unsteady from the unexpected side-along, Draco stumbled, but Harry was there and ready to guide him onto the covers.
Draco took in their new location and stopped his climb onto bed. "Harry, wait." He rubbed a hand over his forehead. "Gods, I'm going to kill myself for this later."
"No regrets, here. Come on, Draco," Harry urged.
"No, I meant…" Draco regained his footing and pushed back from the bed, holding a hand up between them. "I need my clothes. I can't think," he said, as his gaze landed the side table where his abandoned wand rested.
For once, Harry wasn't quick enough. He reached out, unable to stop, aching to touch Draco again, needing to finish what they'd started.
The Shield Charm Harry hit wasn't going to keep him away for long, but it sent an insulting message. Wasn't there some unwritten rule about drawing a wand on your spouse? Irritation ploughed its way through the dissipating fog of arousal. His magic responded, pooling close to the skin - angry and itching to be released. The small table beside Draco collapsed in on itself, as if crushed by an invisible fist. Draco kept his eyes on Harry.
"Calm down. I just needed some space to think."
"Fuck, Draco! Why are you fighting me?"
"Because you’re not healed - not fully. It's not right for me to throw your safety away because I miss you so much it hurts. I almost killed you with one fucking memory. If you don't let up soon, I'll probably give in - but it won't be good for either of us in the long run. If you're hurt as a result of this, I'll never forgive myself."
Through the cloud of emotions, Harry caught a glimpse of himself in the forest, standing before Voldemort, ready to sacrifice everything for the people he loved. He wondered where that Harry had gone and why Draco was now holding the moral compass in their relationship. He didn't know what he was doing. As fast as it had come, the anger rolled away, leaving him cold and confused.
"What if you leave now and I die anyway?" he asked quietly.
"Harry, that's not…"
"No, wait. Hear me out. You're right - no one knows what's going to happen. I might become your Harry tomorrow and everything goes back to the way it was. But what if it doesn't? What if we don't have much time left together? You said it yourself; nobody's seen anything like this before."
"Not until now, but that's not the point. Magic is forever changing and throwing us into new situations. There's no need to fear the worst, but there's also a world of reasons why this - as much as we both want it or how good it feels- shouldn't go any further." After a moment, he lowered his wand.
Harry took a few steps forward, but kept a respectful space between them. "I know I'm risking a lot, but don't you think I deserve this? Don't we? What if you never get him back or if I don't live past tomorrow? I don't want to die without being with you." The urge to touch Draco wouldn't leave him. He fought it for a moment, but then a hand wrapped around his own. Draco was looking at him with so much love and grief it made Harry's heart ache.
"I understand - probably more than you know, and you're right, none of this is fucking fair, but I won't be responsible for hurting you again." He looked down at their entwined fingers and smiled. "Besides, you're still missing eight more years of memories. For all you know, our marriage is in ruins and I could be a cheating cad with a Pepper-Up addiction."
"But you're not. Something tells me Hermione and the Weasleys wouldn't leave me alone if you were. Stop trying to scare me. I've known you nearly all of my life. I probably know you better than anybody else."
Draco squeezed his hand. "Yes, you will, just not yet."
"You talk too much, Malfoy," Harry said with a smile, pulling Draco close again. He was willing to put the almost-fight out of his mind when Draco's hand landed on his chest, pausing their reunion.
"And you never listen, Potter."
Harry chuckled to himself and gave Draco what he intended to be one last embrace. It slid quickly into something not so innocent as soon as Draco's scent surrounded him once more. Harry felt Draco tense up as his lips wandered again over a warm, exposed shoulder and up the side of that glorious neck, but he pressed on, hoping that Draco would give up on the idea of protecting him, or that at least he would allow Harry to give him one memory that was just theirs - something that he would never forget.
"Why do we both hate Halloween?"
"What?" Harry asked, half-ignoring Draco - distracting himself with the curve of a warm back under his fingers. When his hand was gently tugged away, Harry lifted his eyes.
"Focus. What's my favourite film?"
"That's not… Shut up. You're ruining the mood." Harry reached for the smooth ridge of Draco's hip that was peeking out at him, but he was stopped again.
"Why did I become a Healer, Harry?"
He'd had it with distractions. He understood being cautious, and he wasn't keen on enduring another memory backlash, but Draco was his, and all this talking wasn't getting them anywhere. He tried for a seductive smile as he sank again into Parseltongue.
"I don't really care at the moment," he said, punctuating with soft kisses. "Shut. Up."
Draco shuddered and closed his eyes as all the blood rushed away from his face. A few deep breaths brought some colour back, and unfortunately for Harry, Draco seemed to gain control over himself again in record time. Long fingers wrapped around Harry's jaw, holding his attention.
"When did you fall in love with me?"
"Draco that's not…" Irritation crept up again, but he told himself to ignore it. He was trying - knowing that he couldn't lose his temper again, and yet Draco's questions were really getting under his skin. He leaned in for another kiss. "You know I don't remember any of…"
The fingers tightened their grip a fraction, forcing their eyes to lock again. "When, Harry?"
"We don't have to be in love to fuck!" Harry yelled, knocking Draco's hands away. With the next breath, he stole Draco's wand and had him trapped up against the wall once more. It felt good to be back in control, and he inwardly applauded himself until he caught the lack of emotion in Draco's eyes.
"Emergency Relocate requested: Malfoy, six, twenty-five," Draco said, calmly.
"What?"
Draco ignored the question as he turned his eyes to the empty wall next to him. "Bring the door back, Harry."
Harry's mind tried to drive him into action - warned him he had better say something to keep Draco from leaving the room, but an ache was creeping up his chest and into his jaw and the words took so much effort to push out. "Draco, no. I'm sorry. Stay."
"Harry, I can't - if not for your sake, then for mine. I need to wait for him."
"I can be him for you. Why can't you just pretend?"
Draco swallowed as a tear escaped. In that instant, Harry knew that he'd said the wrong thing, but it was too late to take it back.
A bland, female voice floated around the room."Granted, Healer Malfoy. Destination?"
"My office."
"Approved. Emergency Relocate in four, three…"
"No, look!" Harry pushed Draco's wand forward in desperation, tears burning in the corners of his eyes. "Here, take it! I'm sorry! Don't go!"
Draco avoided his gaze and placed one hand on the wall while the other came up to catch his wand. "No, I'm sorry, Harry. Please don't blame yourself. I think it's best if Healer Attwood takes over as your primary Healer from this point on."
"…two, one."
"Draco!" Harry yelled, but it was too late, he was alone in his room - his cell. Anger mixed with a thousand other emotions as he made short work of destroying everything in his room with magic that lashed out from him like the snapping, wind-battered willow branches on the ceiling. The summer setting had been replaced with a silent storm that seemed to be projecting Harry's anguish.
"FUCK!"
With every crack, rip and explosion, he allowed both his magic and fury to flow without restraint, but there was only so much damage he could do in the small space, and eventually, his strength ran out. By the time the Aurors had found a way into the room, Harry was unable to do anything except lie in the pool of water, porcelain and mirror glass at the base of the ruined bathroom sink.
As they worked around him, talked to him, bound his bleeding hands, his mind cruelly provided a loop of Draco's departure. He shook from the cold water, the overexertion and from the massive gash in his soul.
~*~
Chapter 6
*hugs*
"Harry, some space - please."
The suggestion made sense in his mind, but his body rejected the idea. Harry pressed a little closer, rested his head on Draco's shoulder and took a few more deep breaths with his nose buried in the weave of the warm cardigan. He didn't know what to do with all the emotions and impulses stirred up by the simple act of breathing. He tried again to let go and silently asked his magic, and whichever gods were listening, to help him get a hold of himself. The unexpected answer came with a flare of heat that escaped through his hands, melted into the wall and sprouted ties that wrapped gently, but firmly around Draco's wrists and ankles.
Harry shoved his face into the base of Draco's neck and inhaled. It brought the dream back with striking detail. He moaned, loving the way it felt to finally connect, to feel a heart pounding so close to his and to bathe in the heat radiating off them both. Draco froze under him as Harry experimented, brushing his lips lightly over the warm skin. It was a hundred times better than the dream.
“Perfect.” He smiled as Draco shivered.
"Harry, some space - please."
The suggestion made sense in his mind, but his body rejected the idea. Harry pressed a little closer, rested his head on Draco's shoulder and took a few more deep breaths with his nose buried in the weave of the warm cardigan. He didn't know what to do with all the emotions and impulses stirred up by the simple act of breathing. He tried again to let go and silently asked his magic, and whichever gods were listening, to help him get a hold of himself. The unexpected answer came with a flare of heat that escaped through his hands, melted into the wall and sprouted ties that wrapped gently, but firmly around Draco's wrists and ankles.
"Potter," Draco warned, his voice low and controlled.
"I know!"
He tried to even out his breathing, rein in his magic and step back, but the more he tried, the more Draco's warmth and scent surrounded him, filling his head with images that were both arousing and aggravating. He closed his eyes and the reality of the bone-deep loneliness he suddenly felt, made his heart ache strangely. He slid his cheek along Draco's jaw and took another deep breath "Fuck, Draco, you smell so much like the man from my dream."
Draco dragged in a few breaths before speaking again.
"You never mentioned another dream." Draco turned his head away, but the action of revealing more of his neck drew Harry in like a magnet.
"I was angry, remember? I thought I might have been seeing things - like the dream was a side effect of the potion. Whatever it was, it felt so real." Harry got a jolt of arousal as his mind replayed some of the very best images.
He pulled his head up slowly and studied Draco's face until he had his captive's full attention. There were so many answers hidden behind those grey eyes, an intimacy stronger, deeper than good friends. Much more. Half of him wanted to release Draco - and his fingers tingled with the unspoken command - but there was also a voice that urged him to take advantage of the golden opportunity laid out in front of him, strapped to the wall. He knew without hesitation that he was the stronger man - magically and physically - regardless of his mental age, but he also had a feeling that Draco had cards he had yet to show as well. Still, Harry couldn't pass up the chance to see if he could press Draco for a little more information. Also, the sight of Malfoy, pink-flushed and at Harry's mercy created too tempting a picture to ignore.
"It was a memory, wasn't it?" Harry asked, lowering his mouth again to whisper against Draco's ear. "My body knows you. I can feel it."
"It's alright," Draco said, quietly. "Breathe, Harry. Just listen to me and try to stay calm. You've been though a lot in the past few days. I'm in contact with you the most, so, naturally you've become accustomed to…"
An image from the end of the dream resurfaced, and Harry ignored the words to run a hand slowly over Draco's chest, stealing away whatever he'd been trying to say. Harry paused once he felt the tell tale bump he had hoped would be there. He levitated it out from Draco's shirt until it hovered between them, still attached to the chain.
"The man I dreamt about had a ring just like yours."
"It's a gold band, Potter. They are all relatively similar." Draco's voice was steady, but a thin sheen of perspiration appeared on his brow.
Harry couldn't stop his fingers from wrapping around Draco's jaw, or pull his eyes away from a face he seemed to truly be seeing for the first time. It was difficult for a moment to connect the man in front of him with the Malfoy Harry knew from the past. There was a maturity reflected in his tired eyes, an entire life there that Harry wanted to know about.
"Who gave this to you?"
"I've told you more than I should have already. Harry, this is more complicated than you know," Draco said, confidence flowing back into his tone. "Please don't push this. You still have a chance to let me go without incident."
Something about the way Draco could maintain authority while being the one trapped against the wall made Harry smile. "I have a theory," he said, releasing Draco's face. He took a step back. His own ring slithered out of his shirt and hovered next to Draco's. With another thought, the ties binding Draco melted out of existence. "Give me your finger."
"What? No," Draco refused, crossing his arms.
Harry held out his hand and watched as the rings slipped through their chains and drifted down onto his waiting palm without Draco's permission. When he looked up, Draco's eyes were narrowed, but he stayed silent as Harry reached to untangle his arms. When Harry's ring slid perfectly home on Draco's third finger, Harry felt his heart give an extra thud.
He wasn't surprised when the other ring was a perfect fit on his own hand. "You're him. You stubborn ass! Why couldn't you just tell me?"
Draco refolded his arms, tucking the ring out of sight. For the first time, Harry saw a flash of the Malfoy he remembered from Hogwarts, but in an instant it was gone again, replaced by someone who was busy avoiding Harry's eyes.
Harry waited, but when no answer came, he took a deep breath and tried again. "I had a strong feeling it was you, but I didn't know for sure. I know I'm not going about this the right way, but I won't sit here while my whole life's being kept from me. I'm collecting the pieces, trying to wait, like you all want me to, but I can't. Draco, you know I'm not set up that way." He looked down at the space between them and felt the heat of Draco's skin leaving him. He held his ground, but laid his left hand over the place where Draco's arms crossed. His ring picked up the light and brought a weary smile to his face.
"Didn't think I'd notice that you knew more about me than anyone else: how I take my tea, my favourite food, what I like to wear? Our rings fit each other, Draco. I should hate you for all of the lies, but I can't right now." The ring grew warm on his finger. "You saved my life." Haunted eyes met his, telling Harry he wasn't the only one that felt the pulse. "This just feels right. He slid his way along Draco's arm and under the crook of an elbow until the rings brushed against each other and grew warmer still. "You feel right."
Draco's voice was a broken whisper when it came. "Harry..."
"Why didn't you just tell me how close you were to him - to me?"
"Is that what you would have done, had our roles been reversed?" Draco asked, leaning his head back against the wall.
Harry stroked the fingers under his, and couldn't stop his other hand from moving to Draco's shoulder. His fingers wanted to touch that delicious neck, but he held back - barely. He took it as a good sign when Draco didn't push him away.
"I asked you first," Harry said.
Draco closed his eyes for a moment and then inhaled slowly. When he released the breath, Harry noticed another story written across Draco's brow - the one that told of many hours of missed sleep, silent grief and a touch of bitterness. Still, it didn't take away the excitement of Harry's recent discovery. He could almost wait for more answers if it meant they could spend the next few hours kissing the pain away, curing the ache he knew they both felt.
"You had the memories of a ten-year old Muggle when you woke up. How do you think that would have gone over? Welcome to St Mungo's, Master Potter. My name is Draco Malfoy, and I'll be your Healer and - oh yes - husband for the duration of your stay!"
Relief flooded through him. married! It was better than permission. Without thinking, Harry pulled off his jumper and banished Draco's clothes from the waist up for good measure. When the warm skin of their chests connected at the same time as their lips, Harry knew there was no better medicine in the world.
Draco gasped in surprise at the contact and made an attempt to say something, but Harry pressed in again until his mouth made sure Draco's had something better to do. It was brilliant. He didn't know where to touch first, but his fingers burned with an urgency he'd never felt before. They moved on their own up Draco's throat and into the warm, fine hair. He closed his fists and pulled back firmly, letting instinct take over. Draco's eyelids closed and a moan escaped his lips. Harry could only stare at the picture they made. It was beautiful, familiar, even though he couldn't ever remember touching Malfoy this way.
As the pause lengthened, Draco's eyes opened and Harry suddenly remembered they had a bed nearby. Before he could stop the words, they tumbled out. "I thought it was just a dream, but I hoped it was real. Fuck, Draco, you were so beautiful naked. I want you."
Draco fought to control his breathing as he latched onto Harry's forearms. "Gods, I want…" He opened his eyes, but it took a second for him to focus. Then Harry saw the answer written all over Draco's pained expression. "No, we can't. At this point in your recovery, you haven't - you've never..." He freed one of his hands and gestured at their bodies.
Harry tried to control his frustration, but he'd heard enough no for a lifetime. He didn't want to force the issue, but his body was done with the chatter and was more than willing to tie Draco to something else in order to prove just how much he didn't need a Healer's opinion at the moment.
"I don't care if my brain hasn't filled in all the gaps yet. I'm still him - me, and we're together, right?"
"Yes - no. You have no idea of the…"
"I've got more than a good idea." He shoved his hips forward and felt a rush of power as he watched Draco's composure crumble. "I've been hard since that dream and it wasn't nearly as amazing as having you here, now. It's not advanced potions, Malfoy. Want to bet I can figure out which part goes where?"
As if a demonstration was needed, Harry dove in and kissed Draco passionately in an attempt to put an end to the protests. For good measure, he reached down and gripped Draco firmly between the legs. The sounds of surprise and pleasure that came from them both, made Harry feel invincible. He wasn't playing fair, he knew, but as the seconds ticked on, he could feel Draco yielding, submitting and falling into a rhythm that was quickly picking up speed.
Draco's left arm slid up and around until the faded Dark Mark rested across Harry’s shoulders. The memory of their first duel slipped into his head, along with another image - one he definitely hadn't seen before. It was a picture of Draco, body flushed with arousal, stretched out on a bed - their bed - with his arms resting above his head, the skull and snake plainly in view.
Then Harry remembered something else he could do.
It was nearly impossible to describe the transformation from speaking English to Parseltongue - it was more than a language, it had weight, texture. He slipped into it like a warm bath - a second skin.
"It was an accident the first time. I spoke to the mark just to see what would happen."
Draco gasped for air like a drowning man and clasped Harry's face in his hands.
"Nothing happened to the snake, but you got so hard. I remember what you looked like." Harry smiled at the memory while massaging Draco through his trousers. Draco moaned wet kisses against the side of his mouth. "All mine.
"Harry, oh, fuck!"
"Mmm… Why did we wait so long to get together?" Harry wondered, moving his lips until they brushed the shell of Draco's ear. "Think what we could have been doing instead of hating each other all those years."
For a few blissful moments, Draco was his completely. Harry closed his eyes and let their bodies take over. He moved instinctively, pulling Draco closer, touching all the right places without questioning how he knew what he was doing. Acting on impulse, he Apparated them the short distance to the bed. Unsteady from the unexpected side-along, Draco stumbled, but Harry was there and ready to guide him onto the covers.
Draco took in their new location and stopped his climb onto bed. "Harry, wait." He rubbed a hand over his forehead. "Gods, I'm going to kill myself for this later."
"No regrets, here. Come on, Draco," Harry urged.
"No, I meant…" Draco regained his footing and pushed back from the bed, holding a hand up between them. "I need my clothes. I can't think," he said, as his gaze landed the side table where his abandoned wand rested.
For once, Harry wasn't quick enough. He reached out, unable to stop, aching to touch Draco again, needing to finish what they'd started.
The Shield Charm Harry hit wasn't going to keep him away for long, but it sent an insulting message. Wasn't there some unwritten rule about drawing a wand on your spouse? Irritation ploughed its way through the dissipating fog of arousal. His magic responded, pooling close to the skin - angry and itching to be released. The small table beside Draco collapsed in on itself, as if crushed by an invisible fist. Draco kept his eyes on Harry.
"Calm down. I just needed some space to think."
"Fuck, Draco! Why are you fighting me?"
"Because you’re not healed - not fully. It's not right for me to throw your safety away because I miss you so much it hurts. I almost killed you with one fucking memory. If you don't let up soon, I'll probably give in - but it won't be good for either of us in the long run. If you're hurt as a result of this, I'll never forgive myself."
Through the cloud of emotions, Harry caught a glimpse of himself in the forest, standing before Voldemort, ready to sacrifice everything for the people he loved. He wondered where that Harry had gone and why Draco was now holding the moral compass in their relationship. He didn't know what he was doing. As fast as it had come, the anger rolled away, leaving him cold and confused.
"What if you leave now and I die anyway?" he asked quietly.
"Harry, that's not…"
"No, wait. Hear me out. You're right - no one knows what's going to happen. I might become your Harry tomorrow and everything goes back to the way it was. But what if it doesn't? What if we don't have much time left together? You said it yourself; nobody's seen anything like this before."
"Not until now, but that's not the point. Magic is forever changing and throwing us into new situations. There's no need to fear the worst, but there's also a world of reasons why this - as much as we both want it or how good it feels- shouldn't go any further." After a moment, he lowered his wand.
Harry took a few steps forward, but kept a respectful space between them. "I know I'm risking a lot, but don't you think I deserve this? Don't we? What if you never get him back or if I don't live past tomorrow? I don't want to die without being with you." The urge to touch Draco wouldn't leave him. He fought it for a moment, but then a hand wrapped around his own. Draco was looking at him with so much love and grief it made Harry's heart ache.
"I understand - probably more than you know, and you're right, none of this is fucking fair, but I won't be responsible for hurting you again." He looked down at their entwined fingers and smiled. "Besides, you're still missing eight more years of memories. For all you know, our marriage is in ruins and I could be a cheating cad with a Pepper-Up addiction."
"But you're not. Something tells me Hermione and the Weasleys wouldn't leave me alone if you were. Stop trying to scare me. I've known you nearly all of my life. I probably know you better than anybody else."
Draco squeezed his hand. "Yes, you will, just not yet."
"You talk too much, Malfoy," Harry said with a smile, pulling Draco close again. He was willing to put the almost-fight out of his mind when Draco's hand landed on his chest, pausing their reunion.
"And you never listen, Potter."
Harry chuckled to himself and gave Draco what he intended to be one last embrace. It slid quickly into something not so innocent as soon as Draco's scent surrounded him once more. Harry felt Draco tense up as his lips wandered again over a warm, exposed shoulder and up the side of that glorious neck, but he pressed on, hoping that Draco would give up on the idea of protecting him, or that at least he would allow Harry to give him one memory that was just theirs - something that he would never forget.
"Why do we both hate Halloween?"
"What?" Harry asked, half-ignoring Draco - distracting himself with the curve of a warm back under his fingers. When his hand was gently tugged away, Harry lifted his eyes.
"Focus. What's my favourite film?"
"That's not… Shut up. You're ruining the mood." Harry reached for the smooth ridge of Draco's hip that was peeking out at him, but he was stopped again.
"Why did I become a Healer, Harry?"
He'd had it with distractions. He understood being cautious, and he wasn't keen on enduring another memory backlash, but Draco was his, and all this talking wasn't getting them anywhere. He tried for a seductive smile as he sank again into Parseltongue.
"I don't really care at the moment," he said, punctuating with soft kisses. "Shut. Up."
Draco shuddered and closed his eyes as all the blood rushed away from his face. A few deep breaths brought some colour back, and unfortunately for Harry, Draco seemed to gain control over himself again in record time. Long fingers wrapped around Harry's jaw, holding his attention.
"When did you fall in love with me?"
"Draco that's not…" Irritation crept up again, but he told himself to ignore it. He was trying - knowing that he couldn't lose his temper again, and yet Draco's questions were really getting under his skin. He leaned in for another kiss. "You know I don't remember any of…"
The fingers tightened their grip a fraction, forcing their eyes to lock again. "When, Harry?"
"We don't have to be in love to fuck!" Harry yelled, knocking Draco's hands away. With the next breath, he stole Draco's wand and had him trapped up against the wall once more. It felt good to be back in control, and he inwardly applauded himself until he caught the lack of emotion in Draco's eyes.
"Emergency Relocate requested: Malfoy, six, twenty-five," Draco said, calmly.
"What?"
Draco ignored the question as he turned his eyes to the empty wall next to him. "Bring the door back, Harry."
Harry's mind tried to drive him into action - warned him he had better say something to keep Draco from leaving the room, but an ache was creeping up his chest and into his jaw and the words took so much effort to push out. "Draco, no. I'm sorry. Stay."
"Harry, I can't - if not for your sake, then for mine. I need to wait for him."
"I can be him for you. Why can't you just pretend?"
Draco swallowed as a tear escaped. In that instant, Harry knew that he'd said the wrong thing, but it was too late to take it back.
A bland, female voice floated around the room."Granted, Healer Malfoy. Destination?"
"My office."
"Approved. Emergency Relocate in four, three…"
"No, look!" Harry pushed Draco's wand forward in desperation, tears burning in the corners of his eyes. "Here, take it! I'm sorry! Don't go!"
Draco avoided his gaze and placed one hand on the wall while the other came up to catch his wand. "No, I'm sorry, Harry. Please don't blame yourself. I think it's best if Healer Attwood takes over as your primary Healer from this point on."
"…two, one."
"Draco!" Harry yelled, but it was too late, he was alone in his room - his cell. Anger mixed with a thousand other emotions as he made short work of destroying everything in his room with magic that lashed out from him like the snapping, wind-battered willow branches on the ceiling. The summer setting had been replaced with a silent storm that seemed to be projecting Harry's anguish.
"FUCK!"
With every crack, rip and explosion, he allowed both his magic and fury to flow without restraint, but there was only so much damage he could do in the small space, and eventually, his strength ran out. By the time the Aurors had found a way into the room, Harry was unable to do anything except lie in the pool of water, porcelain and mirror glass at the base of the ruined bathroom sink.
As they worked around him, talked to him, bound his bleeding hands, his mind cruelly provided a loop of Draco's departure. He shook from the cold water, the overexertion and from the massive gash in his soul.
~*~
Chapter 6