HP: Alliances 8
Yawning, Draco looked at Harry's watch. The face read, "NOW: Seventy-eight hours 'til the Locusts return. LATER: Even less time." He needed to find Madame Pomfrey. There was only seventy-eight hours left until the students descended on the castle. He wanted his memories back and could only think of one way to do it: Borinthem's Prosfatem. The potion was dangerous. None had been brewed in close to a hundred years and it needed to be done by a woman. The potion was a volatile cure-all. It could fix anything that the imbiber wanted changed but only if the person had "pure motives." Pure meaning focused. If the drinker wanted to fix her ugly nose but also hated her thighs her legs were liable to fall off while her nose remained deformedly large. It was considered a poison because it could prove deadly to the unfocused mind.
But Draco had always been driven and focused. Desperation was fueling him now and he knew it would work. He knew his magic and his mind and knew that he was very capable of being single-minded. The problem would be in convincing Madame Pomfrey to brew the practically illegal serum. Softly he called Harry's name, "Harry? I have to go talk to Madame Pomfrey. Will you still be here in an hour?"
Harry looked at his watch tiredly. The face had changed and now said, "NOW: it's ten, you lazy bastard, get out of bed."
"No," said Harry as he shook his head, "I'm gonna go talk to Blaise. Meet me there later? Wait, do you want me to come with you?"
"No, I'm fine. I'll meet you. Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for last night."
"No. Thank you. I'm sore in all the right places."
"I meant because you took such good care of me."
"Co, you don't need to thank me for that. Maybe for the amazing orgasm but not for being
nice-ish."
"It wasn't nice-ish, you were. . . mine. And I felt safe. I was scared witless and you made me feel like I was in control."
"I just want you to be happy. I want you to be comfortable until you find your feet."
"Thank you." He leaned in and kissed his dark lover.
"Stop saying that." Harry laughed, "Go to the infirmary. Find me when your done."
"I love you. I'll be at least an hour."
"I'll see you then."
________________________________________
A slow, warm shower was exactly what the medi-wizard ordered. He let the hot spray loosen the knots in his muscles as he slowly washed himself. After he turned the water off he stood in the steam just breathing for a few minutes before reaching for his wand to cast a drying spell.
"So I'm guessing last night didn't work."
"No," Harry sighed and smiled sadly at the mirror. "No one ever promised it would."
"I'm sorry, Har."
"He doesn't call me that." Draco had come up with the shortening once Harry had started calling him Co. The blond had expected that the pet name would annoy Harry and thus force the boy to stop calling him Co. But Harry had liked it. Outside of "boy" and "you" Harry had never had a nickname. Some people had called him Har in the past but they'd never substituted it for his name so completely as his Co did. Now even Remus generally addressed him as Har. When people called him by his lover's pet name it made him feel powerful as if the whole world knew who he belonged to. Of course, no one outside of a very select few knew who had christened him with the moniker.
"You look tired."
"I'm still having the dreams." He had realized that the Draco he spoke to nightly wasn't
the product of his mind. He was too cutting, too demanding to be some figment of his own mind. Voldemort was fucking with him.
"Where's Co now?"
"Gone to investigate a way of getting his memories."
"Poor boy."
"Yeah."
"Why aren't you with him?"
"He didn't want me to go."
"Oh," said the mirror in a knowing voice.
"Yeah. I'm gonna go see Blaise."
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"He's gonna pull through."
"I hope so."
________________________________________
Blaise was still asleep in bed so Harry just climbed into it with him, "Wake up," he spoke
none too softly directly into Blaise's ear.
"'M wake!" he said groggily as he jumped up.
"Hi."
"What the fuck, Harry?"
"I wanted to talk to you."
"Where's yer boy?" he asked as he rubbed his eyes.
"Finding a cure for himself."
"So last night didn't work?"
"Does this whole fucking castle know we had sex last night?"
"Well if they didn't they do now. Stop shouting. Are you alright?"
"No, I'm not. My lover doesn't know me. We made love and he still doesn't know me. Now he's decided he loves me even though he doesn't know me. So when he does get his memories back he's gonna be angry because he's being saying he loves me, and telling me the little he remembers about his family, and he kisses me. Once he remembers himself again I think he's going to be defensive and embarrassed. He may very well leave me."
"Maybe he really loves you."
"No, it's gratitude and relief. Not love. I don't like him saying it. It's like a knife twisting because it isn't real but I can tell he believes it is. It's painful."
"Har."
"I know. Bugger me, I know."
________________________________________
"Hello?" called Draco as he pulled open the infirmary door.
"Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey smiled, "what can I do for you? Our physical therapy session is scheduled for three."
"I was actually hoping we could talk."
She heard the seriousness in his tone and motioned to her desk. "Please sit down."
"I'd rather stand, thank you. I um, I was hoping you'd be willing to help me with my memory problem." He'd been over using the word hope. It made him feel nauseous just thinking about it. The one thing that didn't escape from Pandora's box was hope. It remained trapped inside because if it was loosed upon the world it would run out. And then where would the world be? Hope was a sick thing really. It made people believe in lost causes. Lost memories.
"How exactly?" she asked.
"I was hoping you would brew me a dose of Borinthem's Prosfatem."
"Draco! That's illegal."
"No, it's not illegal to brew it. It's illegal to administer it to a second party. It's illegal to prescribe it to a second person. It's not illegal to supply it to someone. You aren't to know my intent."
"This is dangerous."
"I know, I'm not doing this rashly. I've been thinking about it since the moment I woke up. I tried conditioning and familiarity. I really put in an effort. But the medi-wizards said my memories would start to fade. And it's been three weeks. I'm getting scared."
"Three weeks isn't enough to destroy your memories."
"Please."
"Borinthem's Prosfatem works from motives. What are yours? And fear, Mr. Malfoy, isn't good enough."
Draco just looked at her for a moment and then said, "I don't know who I am. Everyone's coming back and I feel naked. I need this. Harry's been great but I don't get it. What the hell did he ever see in me? From everything I've heard I've been a right bastard. I need to know who I am."
Acting with the aplomb of a trained health professional Poppy pretended not to be shocked at learning about the apparent relationship and instead said, "Are you doing this for Mr. Potter?"
"No, he's just the catalyst. He doesn't know what I'm doing. Please. I'm focused and I know the risk."
"I'll need some form of parental permission."
"Well, see, I would ask my father. But I don't think he'd say yes as he doesn't seem to like me much at the moment."
"Mr. Malfoy, I need written permission from an adult to allow me to give you this."
"What if I write a statement and have Professor Snape sign it? I've been told that he's my godfather."
"That would suffice."
"Thank you. I'll go to him now. Can you start the potion? I know it takes an age to brew."
"Eighty hours. You can come after the feast and take it then. But you can't have it without the note."
"Right. Thank you for this."
They exchanged some pleasantries and neither paid much attention to what they were saying. Poppy was thinking about the possible consequences of the potion while Draco was mentally writing the note he would have Severus sign. He left after a few minutes and went back to the tower for some parchment. He dictated his statement to a self-writing quill as his fine motor skills weren't up to writing level yet. Everyday he went to physical therapy with Madame Pomfrey and he was improving but it was slow going. If the potion worked correctly he would revert back totally to the physical and mental state he had been in before he'd gone into the coma. He looked over the parchment and was quite pleased with the statement.
To Whom it May Concern,
I, Draco Malfoy, asked Poppy Pomfrey to brew me Borinthem's Prosfatem. She was reluctant to do so but, as I am fully aware of the risks and possible ramifications, she agreed. I will administer the potion to myself. No one will be involved in that process save for me. Any negative repercussions resulting from this event are wholly my fault and responsibility.
Draco Malfoy
The dungeon made Draco distinctly unsettled. He didn't like the cold, dark, echoing maze. Even after being shown Snape's office twice it still took him twenty minutes to find the damn place. Once inside the room he felt ill. The man intimidated him and he was slightly worried about asking him to witness the note. Smiling nervously at his godfather he said, "Hello, Professor."
"Dragon, hello. You don't need to call me professor when we're alone." The blond had been told that he'd known Severus forever but the man's easy intimacy made Draco uncomfortable, "What do you need?"
"Well. Uh, I was wondering. . . hoping that maybe you'd, um, witness this for me? Just write that you're aware of the events and sign it? Please." He thrust the parchment at
Severus and looked away, not wanting to see Snape's inevitable anger.
However Snape's anger did not arrive. He read the note and asked, "You know it could kill you? Or wipe your mind blank?"
"Yes."
"Does Harry know about this?"
"No- please, don't tell him. I don't want to be any more of a worry to him."
Snape cocked a single eyebrow, "Mr. Potter and I don't really speak to one another. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes."
"Because, if you've had second thoughts I'll take the fall for you, you won't have to look like a fool. Sometimes people get caught up in things and then feel stupid backing out. You don't have to lose face. I'll tell Poppy I won't sign this and she won't give you the potion." Snape spoke with such ease and he sounded so much like a parent that it made Draco wonder about their relationship. Had he ever been his father's son? Or had he been designed in this man's image?
"I want to do this," Draco hoped his voice was solid.
Severus nodded and signed the paper. He cast a finishing spell upon the parchment so that it could not be tampered with, "Good luck, Dragon."
"Thank you," Draco smiled and really meant it.
________________________________________
He was really excited. He was going to tell Harry and Blaise that there was an end in sight. Bouncing into the Slytherin common room Draco felt happier than he had since he'd woken up in the hospital. But as he bounded towards the dorms he heard Harry's voice and halted. He heard Harry say that he didn't believe Draco's love and that he feared Draco's memories returning. Finally he heard Blaise say, "Har."
"I know. Bugger me, I know," said Harry and he sighed, "I'll stop bitching. I just want him to be happy again. He can either get his memories back and be comfortable with who he it or he can just forsake them and move on. I want him to not be having cold fits and be worrying about every little thing he says or does. I want him to be confident enough to fuck me through the floor or leave me. I just want him to be okay."
Clearing his throat Draco walked slowly towards the room and walked in with a smile on his face. His glee from earlier was no longer present but he wasn't mad at Harry. The boy was only worried about him. And even though he had heard Harry worrying about kissing he clambered over the bed and snogged him slowly. Blaise made a gagging noise and Draco reach behind himself blindly to whack his friend. Despite Harry's unease he stroked Draco's face.
"Hey you," said Harry as he broke away, "how'd it go?"
"I'll get my memories back after the feast. So, what have we been talking about?" he asked looking between his lover and friend.
"You. Always you," Harry answered honestly, "happy?"
"Very. I didn't want to wait three days though."
"Sorry, love, maybe it's like buying a weapon."
And Draco thought Harry was exactly right. In so many ways.
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But Draco had always been driven and focused. Desperation was fueling him now and he knew it would work. He knew his magic and his mind and knew that he was very capable of being single-minded. The problem would be in convincing Madame Pomfrey to brew the practically illegal serum. Softly he called Harry's name, "Harry? I have to go talk to Madame Pomfrey. Will you still be here in an hour?"
Harry looked at his watch tiredly. The face had changed and now said, "NOW: it's ten, you lazy bastard, get out of bed."
"No," said Harry as he shook his head, "I'm gonna go talk to Blaise. Meet me there later? Wait, do you want me to come with you?"
"No, I'm fine. I'll meet you. Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"Thanks for last night."
"No. Thank you. I'm sore in all the right places."
"I meant because you took such good care of me."
"Co, you don't need to thank me for that. Maybe for the amazing orgasm but not for being
nice-ish."
"It wasn't nice-ish, you were. . . mine. And I felt safe. I was scared witless and you made me feel like I was in control."
"I just want you to be happy. I want you to be comfortable until you find your feet."
"Thank you." He leaned in and kissed his dark lover.
"Stop saying that." Harry laughed, "Go to the infirmary. Find me when your done."
"I love you. I'll be at least an hour."
"I'll see you then."
________________________________________
A slow, warm shower was exactly what the medi-wizard ordered. He let the hot spray loosen the knots in his muscles as he slowly washed himself. After he turned the water off he stood in the steam just breathing for a few minutes before reaching for his wand to cast a drying spell.
"So I'm guessing last night didn't work."
"No," Harry sighed and smiled sadly at the mirror. "No one ever promised it would."
"I'm sorry, Har."
"He doesn't call me that." Draco had come up with the shortening once Harry had started calling him Co. The blond had expected that the pet name would annoy Harry and thus force the boy to stop calling him Co. But Harry had liked it. Outside of "boy" and "you" Harry had never had a nickname. Some people had called him Har in the past but they'd never substituted it for his name so completely as his Co did. Now even Remus generally addressed him as Har. When people called him by his lover's pet name it made him feel powerful as if the whole world knew who he belonged to. Of course, no one outside of a very select few knew who had christened him with the moniker.
"You look tired."
"I'm still having the dreams." He had realized that the Draco he spoke to nightly wasn't
the product of his mind. He was too cutting, too demanding to be some figment of his own mind. Voldemort was fucking with him.
"Where's Co now?"
"Gone to investigate a way of getting his memories."
"Poor boy."
"Yeah."
"Why aren't you with him?"
"He didn't want me to go."
"Oh," said the mirror in a knowing voice.
"Yeah. I'm gonna go see Blaise."
"Harry?"
"Yeah?"
"He's gonna pull through."
"I hope so."
________________________________________
Blaise was still asleep in bed so Harry just climbed into it with him, "Wake up," he spoke
none too softly directly into Blaise's ear.
"'M wake!" he said groggily as he jumped up.
"Hi."
"What the fuck, Harry?"
"I wanted to talk to you."
"Where's yer boy?" he asked as he rubbed his eyes.
"Finding a cure for himself."
"So last night didn't work?"
"Does this whole fucking castle know we had sex last night?"
"Well if they didn't they do now. Stop shouting. Are you alright?"
"No, I'm not. My lover doesn't know me. We made love and he still doesn't know me. Now he's decided he loves me even though he doesn't know me. So when he does get his memories back he's gonna be angry because he's being saying he loves me, and telling me the little he remembers about his family, and he kisses me. Once he remembers himself again I think he's going to be defensive and embarrassed. He may very well leave me."
"Maybe he really loves you."
"No, it's gratitude and relief. Not love. I don't like him saying it. It's like a knife twisting because it isn't real but I can tell he believes it is. It's painful."
"Har."
"I know. Bugger me, I know."
________________________________________
"Hello?" called Draco as he pulled open the infirmary door.
"Mr. Malfoy," Madame Pomfrey smiled, "what can I do for you? Our physical therapy session is scheduled for three."
"I was actually hoping we could talk."
She heard the seriousness in his tone and motioned to her desk. "Please sit down."
"I'd rather stand, thank you. I um, I was hoping you'd be willing to help me with my memory problem." He'd been over using the word hope. It made him feel nauseous just thinking about it. The one thing that didn't escape from Pandora's box was hope. It remained trapped inside because if it was loosed upon the world it would run out. And then where would the world be? Hope was a sick thing really. It made people believe in lost causes. Lost memories.
"How exactly?" she asked.
"I was hoping you would brew me a dose of Borinthem's Prosfatem."
"Draco! That's illegal."
"No, it's not illegal to brew it. It's illegal to administer it to a second party. It's illegal to prescribe it to a second person. It's not illegal to supply it to someone. You aren't to know my intent."
"This is dangerous."
"I know, I'm not doing this rashly. I've been thinking about it since the moment I woke up. I tried conditioning and familiarity. I really put in an effort. But the medi-wizards said my memories would start to fade. And it's been three weeks. I'm getting scared."
"Three weeks isn't enough to destroy your memories."
"Please."
"Borinthem's Prosfatem works from motives. What are yours? And fear, Mr. Malfoy, isn't good enough."
Draco just looked at her for a moment and then said, "I don't know who I am. Everyone's coming back and I feel naked. I need this. Harry's been great but I don't get it. What the hell did he ever see in me? From everything I've heard I've been a right bastard. I need to know who I am."
Acting with the aplomb of a trained health professional Poppy pretended not to be shocked at learning about the apparent relationship and instead said, "Are you doing this for Mr. Potter?"
"No, he's just the catalyst. He doesn't know what I'm doing. Please. I'm focused and I know the risk."
"I'll need some form of parental permission."
"Well, see, I would ask my father. But I don't think he'd say yes as he doesn't seem to like me much at the moment."
"Mr. Malfoy, I need written permission from an adult to allow me to give you this."
"What if I write a statement and have Professor Snape sign it? I've been told that he's my godfather."
"That would suffice."
"Thank you. I'll go to him now. Can you start the potion? I know it takes an age to brew."
"Eighty hours. You can come after the feast and take it then. But you can't have it without the note."
"Right. Thank you for this."
They exchanged some pleasantries and neither paid much attention to what they were saying. Poppy was thinking about the possible consequences of the potion while Draco was mentally writing the note he would have Severus sign. He left after a few minutes and went back to the tower for some parchment. He dictated his statement to a self-writing quill as his fine motor skills weren't up to writing level yet. Everyday he went to physical therapy with Madame Pomfrey and he was improving but it was slow going. If the potion worked correctly he would revert back totally to the physical and mental state he had been in before he'd gone into the coma. He looked over the parchment and was quite pleased with the statement.
To Whom it May Concern,
I, Draco Malfoy, asked Poppy Pomfrey to brew me Borinthem's Prosfatem. She was reluctant to do so but, as I am fully aware of the risks and possible ramifications, she agreed. I will administer the potion to myself. No one will be involved in that process save for me. Any negative repercussions resulting from this event are wholly my fault and responsibility.
Draco Malfoy
The dungeon made Draco distinctly unsettled. He didn't like the cold, dark, echoing maze. Even after being shown Snape's office twice it still took him twenty minutes to find the damn place. Once inside the room he felt ill. The man intimidated him and he was slightly worried about asking him to witness the note. Smiling nervously at his godfather he said, "Hello, Professor."
"Dragon, hello. You don't need to call me professor when we're alone." The blond had been told that he'd known Severus forever but the man's easy intimacy made Draco uncomfortable, "What do you need?"
"Well. Uh, I was wondering. . . hoping that maybe you'd, um, witness this for me? Just write that you're aware of the events and sign it? Please." He thrust the parchment at
Severus and looked away, not wanting to see Snape's inevitable anger.
However Snape's anger did not arrive. He read the note and asked, "You know it could kill you? Or wipe your mind blank?"
"Yes."
"Does Harry know about this?"
"No- please, don't tell him. I don't want to be any more of a worry to him."
Snape cocked a single eyebrow, "Mr. Potter and I don't really speak to one another. Are you sure you want to do this?"
"Yes."
"Because, if you've had second thoughts I'll take the fall for you, you won't have to look like a fool. Sometimes people get caught up in things and then feel stupid backing out. You don't have to lose face. I'll tell Poppy I won't sign this and she won't give you the potion." Snape spoke with such ease and he sounded so much like a parent that it made Draco wonder about their relationship. Had he ever been his father's son? Or had he been designed in this man's image?
"I want to do this," Draco hoped his voice was solid.
Severus nodded and signed the paper. He cast a finishing spell upon the parchment so that it could not be tampered with, "Good luck, Dragon."
"Thank you," Draco smiled and really meant it.
________________________________________
He was really excited. He was going to tell Harry and Blaise that there was an end in sight. Bouncing into the Slytherin common room Draco felt happier than he had since he'd woken up in the hospital. But as he bounded towards the dorms he heard Harry's voice and halted. He heard Harry say that he didn't believe Draco's love and that he feared Draco's memories returning. Finally he heard Blaise say, "Har."
"I know. Bugger me, I know," said Harry and he sighed, "I'll stop bitching. I just want him to be happy again. He can either get his memories back and be comfortable with who he it or he can just forsake them and move on. I want him to not be having cold fits and be worrying about every little thing he says or does. I want him to be confident enough to fuck me through the floor or leave me. I just want him to be okay."
Clearing his throat Draco walked slowly towards the room and walked in with a smile on his face. His glee from earlier was no longer present but he wasn't mad at Harry. The boy was only worried about him. And even though he had heard Harry worrying about kissing he clambered over the bed and snogged him slowly. Blaise made a gagging noise and Draco reach behind himself blindly to whack his friend. Despite Harry's unease he stroked Draco's face.
"Hey you," said Harry as he broke away, "how'd it go?"
"I'll get my memories back after the feast. So, what have we been talking about?" he asked looking between his lover and friend.
"You. Always you," Harry answered honestly, "happy?"
"Very. I didn't want to wait three days though."
"Sorry, love, maybe it's like buying a weapon."
And Draco thought Harry was exactly right. In so many ways.
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