Leave the Past Behind, H/D [R] - Part 3/3
Title: Leave the Past Behind - Part 3
Summary: When Harry is sent undercover to get Draco's testimony against two suspected Death Eaters, he finds Draco living as a Muggle with no memory of his past. Harry, determined to find out who did this to Draco, finds himself enthralled by the magic of the Isle of Skye and fascinated by the stranger he thought he knew.
~ * ~ * ~
When Harry returned to the hotel after a much-needed walk to clear his head, Draco was there waiting for him.
"Come on in," he said, and opened the door to let Draco go in ahead of him. At least this time the place was tidy. Not that it made any difference now.
Harry offered him the chair, but he remained standing and glared at Harry. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Er."
Draco clenched his teeth. "When I told you I didn't know who I was, that I didn't remember any of my past, why didn't you say something then?"
"I --"
"I trusted you. I told you something I hadn't told another living soul. I trusted you enough to show you my journal, to tell you everything."
Harry shuffled his feet and stared at the floor. The silence screamed in the small quarters, crushing Harry with its weight. But what could he say? He had no excuse, no defence. Anything he said now would only be self-serving. He'd played his role well - too well - and he'd crossed a line. And the time for coming clean had long since passed.
"You knew who I was the whole time. You knew that I desperately wanted to connect with my past. That I felt vulnerable without that connection. And what did you do?"
"Nothing," Harry mumbled.
"Oh, no," Draco argued. "If you'd have done nothing that might have been forgivable. But no. You had to string me along, give me hope, make me believe that you wanted to help me. That you gave a shit about me!"
"I do, Draco. Really I do."
"Stop calling me that! That's not who I am! I'm Thomas."
Harry swallowed. He'd really cocked this up. "Thomas. Sorry. I didn't mean to --"
"You didn't mean to what? To make me think you cared only so you could arrest me for something I don't even remember doing?"
"I'm not going to arrest you."
"No?" Draco cried. "Why should I believe you? Every word out of your mouth has been a lie, since the day we met."
"No, it hasn't. I swear it hasn't."
"Oh, wait. That's right. We've known each other for years. Were you this honest with me at school? Or did I always have to watch my back then too?"
Harry considered that rich, coming from Malfoy of all people, but he thought better of expressing that view. No point sending him right round the twist. He was already teetering close to the edge as it was.
"Tell me something, James. Harry. Whoever the fuck you are. Was it worth it? Did you have a good laugh at my expense? Are you satisfied that I've paid for whatever the hell I did back in school? Can you leave me alone now?"
"I want to help you," Harry said.
"No!" Draco held up a hand and shook his head, his eyes closed as though to bolster his strength. "Get away from me. Get out of this town, get off this island, and never come back. Just leave me in peace."
"But, Draco. Thomas. Let me help you."
His laugh felt like a slap in the face. "Don't do me any favours, Potter."
For a brief moment, Harry thought Draco had remembered. The way he'd spit out Harry's name sounded eerily familiar. But the look of anguish and pain in his eyes belied his outrage. Harry had hurt him. Deeply. And now he never wanted to see him again.
~ * ~ * ~
Harry Apparated straight to St Mungo's after Draco left. He found Hermione in her office, evidently finished with her rounds for the day.
"Hermione, you have to help Draco."
She pursed her lips, crossed her arms, and lifted her chin. "No, I don't."
"Then help me." He pulled her hands free, grasped them, and looked hopefully into her eyes. "Please."
She pulled her hands from his grasp and made to say something, but Harry stopped her.
"If he regains his memory, perhaps he'll have something of worth to tell us about the remaining Death Eaters." Her shoulders relaxed marginally. "That's why Kingsley sent me to investigate Malfoy in the first place." Not that Harry gave a toss about what Draco could tell them at this point. He just wanted to help him piece together his life.
If Hermione knew what he was thinking - which was quite likely - she didn't let on. She began shuffling papers around on her desk as though searching for something, but she didn't fool Harry. He willed himself to remain patient, to give her the time to rationalise why she was about to help the former Slytherin who had never been anything but nasty to her. He sat back, remained quiet, and kept his face blank.
When she stood up and walked to her filing cabinet, her back to him and her expression hidden, he knew she was in. Not looking at him, she said, "Fine. But I'm only doing this for you."
"I know."
"Not that I have any idea why you would want to help him."
"I told you."
"I know you a little too well for that, Harry."
"But you'll still help him?"
"No." She turned around and gave Harry that look she always gave him or Ron, when she didn't agree, but humoured them anyway. Rather like an indulgent parent might give a child when they knew he was about to make a huge mistake. "But I can't seem to say no to you, can I?"
Harry picked her up and spun her around, kissing her on the forehead after he placed her back down on the ground. "Thanks, Hermione. You're the best."
"Yeah, yeah." She grinned back. "Now, tell me all you know about Draco's case."
Harry told her all he knew, and left with a spring to his step. If anyone could help Draco, Hermione could. Or, if she couldn't help him herself, at least she could figure out who could.
~ * ~ * ~
"I need to see Draco," Hermione told Harry two days later. "We can set up portkeys for him to come to the hospital for tests. I've done all I can from what you told me, but now I need to see him to determine what the problem is."
"The problem is he's lost his memory."
She sighed and rolled her eyes like she used to do back at Hogwarts. "I need to determine if his condition is as a result of neurological trauma, some sort of infection, a curse, or some more benign magic."
"Benign magic?"
Again with the eyes. "Yes, Harry, magic. Remember second year, Professor Lockhart? A strong Memory Charm can work wonders."
Harry opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. He hadn't thought of that. Why hadn't he thought of that?
Because he hadn't believed Draco when he'd told him in the first place. Then he'd got to know him. Draco looked and acted perfectly well otherwise. He seemed well-adjusted, happy even. Oh, God. Why hadn't he considered that Thomas might not be Draco after all? He was, of course, but if he'd been cursed, he might actually be a completely different person. He acted like a completely different person. Harry had convinced himself that it was the real Draco, just removed from all the prejudice and rivalry of his past, but what if ...
Harry was an idiot. "Can a Memory Charm wipe out a person's entire history?" he wondered aloud. "Wouldn't that be dangerous?"
Hermione nodded. "You saw what happened to Lockhart."
"But that was because of Ron's faulty wand." Harry fought against the looming panic. "A properly-cast Memory Charm couldn't do that, could it?"
"Not a conventional one, no. But you've seen the effects of alterations made to charms, the compounded results when spells are supplemented with potions, or the power of Dark Magic."
"You don't think this ... that he might have been ...?"
"No, Harry, I don't think anything of the sort," she said. "In fact, I don't know that his memories are even lost. That's why I have to see him."
"I don't think he'll agree to it. You should have seen his reaction when I Apparated us from that cliff."
"Honestly, Harry. If you didn't know about magic, had nearly been hit by a car, then hurtled over a cliff, only to find yourself safe in a room halfway across the island, I think you might react similarly." She smirked. "Don't you?"
He shrugged. "I'd probably think I'd gone mad."
"Precisely. He's had some time to digest what you told him. And, from what you told me, he wants to get his memory back."
Harry recalled how broken Draco had looked when he'd first confided in Harry. "Desperately."
"Good. Then he shouldn't put up too much of a fuss when I ask to speak with him."
Harry laughed. "Considering how mad he was with me for lying to him, I'd be surprised if he let us in." Harry eyed her knowingly. "You don't believe he's lost his memory at all, do you?"
"I have no reason to doubt you, Harry."
"But you don't believe him."
"I haven't seen him, so I can't say one way or the other."
Harry nodded. "Fair enough.."
~ * ~ * ~
Harry stood facing Draco's cottage, Hermione by his side. He let out a sigh, braced himself, and knocked.
When Draco opened the door, Harry lifted a hand to pre-empt any argument Draco might put forward. "Thomas, this is Hermione. She's a Healer." At his confused look, Harry elaborated. "A magical doctor. She has done some research on your condition and has asked to see you. I won't be involved at all, but I know how much this means to you. Please don't let your anger with me prevent you from getting the help you need."
Draco narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "Do you know me too?"
She nodded. "Yes. We all went to school together."
"And you're his friend?"
"I am."
"Don't let that --" Harry began, but Draco's glare stopped him mid-sentence.
"You're a doctor?" She nodded. "And you think you can help me?"
"Memory Charms are common, as are curses," Hermione explained. "I haven't seen anything present quite like how Harry describes your condition, but I did some research and there is some precedent for this. As you can imagine, I can't diagnose you without first running some tests."
He considered her words for a moment, then nodded. "You have sworn an oath of some sort, to help people?"
"I have."
"And you won't discuss any of this with anyone?"
"I will consult with other Healers," she said. "I am, as you can imagine, still fairly new at my profession, and this goes beyond my area of expertise." When Draco said nothing, she added, "But I won't talk about your case with Harry. Or anyone else that isn't on staff at the hospital."
Draco nodded curtly. "Very well."
Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "You mean you'll agree to talk with me?"
Draco frowned. "That's what you're here for, isn't it?"
"Well, yes, but --"
"But you didn't expect me to agree?"
"No, I didn't."
"Because of Harry?"
"Because of our past."
Draco folded his arms and leaned against the doorjamb, smiling sadly. "If I knew my past, I suppose I might be wary." He glanced at Harry, then back to Hermione. "I'm angry with him, there's no question about that, but I've thought about things and I can't say that I don't trust him. He seems rather the trustworthy sort. Despite recent revelations, I don't think he'd do anything to intentionally harm me. So ... I suppose that means I trust you."
Harry smiled. "That's great, Draco!"
Draco shut his eyes, pinched the top of his nose between his brows, and took a deep breath, perhaps to prevent himself imploding. "I still want nothing to do with you," he said through clenched teeth. He turned to Hermione. "You may come in."
~ * ~ * ~
More than a week passed and Hermione hadn't contacted Harry with any news.
He'd tried to reach Draco, but received no response. He'd phoned, left messages, sent a letter, and even risked an owl late one evening, but it had come back unopened. Two days ago he'd stopped his pathetic attempts at communication. Draco knew where he was and how to reach him. And Hermione would have said something if Draco had stopped going to his appointments at St Mungo's, so he could always reach Harry through Hermione.
Draco didn't want to talk to him. That was clear. And Harry didn't blame him. Not one bit.
Harry retreated to work. He spent most waking hours at the Ministry and did his best to avoid Kingsley, for fear his boss would ask again how things were progressing with Draco.
Unfortunately, since a handful of cases that remained open at his desk were those of suspected or confirmed Death Eaters, he had to endure references to Malfoy Manor and Lucius Malfoy, not exactly helpful when he was trying to put the man's son out of his mind.
Harry's nerves were shot and he found himself snapping at everyone around him; people had taken the hint and now granted him a wide berth.
"Oi, Harry!"
Harry grunted a response to Ron.
"Full of sunshine and roses again today, I see."
Harry gave him a two-fingered salute.
"Right. So what'd you say to Cook?" Harry shrugged. "You had her on the verge of tears, you know."
Harry put down his quill and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry."
"Not me you need to apologise to," he said. "But I'll take it since I'm sure you owe me a half-dozen or more from earlier in the week."
Harry rolled his eyes and picked up his quill again.
A few blessed moments of silence passed before Ron cleared his throat. In response to Harry's questioning look, he said, "Talk to Hermione."
Harry shook his head. "You know how she gets," he said. "She'll bite my head off if I interfere or try to press her into telling me something she can't."
"You mean like you're biting everyone's head off here?"
"Very funny."
"No, it's not," Ron said. "And I can't say I understand why you're letting Malfoy's situation get to you so much, but if you don't go see her now, I can't guarantee you won't end up seeing her as a patient after someone realises they've had enough of your shite and hexes your arse."
Harry crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.
"And that someone might even be me."
"Fine," Harry said, picking up his quill once more. "After work."
Ron snatched the quill from his hand. "Now."
"But I --"
"In case you'd forgotten, Malfoy is work. You're following up on one of your cases, plain and simple."
Harry opened his mouth to argue but Ron cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Get out of here before someone sends you out."
Harry slunk from the room, grumbling under his breath, but secretly relieved to have an excuse to check on Draco.
~ * ~ * ~
Hermione greeted him with a smile and motioned him into her office. "Hi, Harry." She smirked knowingly. "I'm surprised it's taken you until now to come talk to me."
"You are?"
She laughed. "I've known you since we were eleven. Patience isn't exactly your strong suit."
"No, I guess it isn't," he said. He tried not to reflect on the past when his impetuousness had caused others harm. "So how's Draco?"
"Take a seat." She indicated a chair in front of her desk and he sat down. She leaned against the desk but remained standing. "I know you want me to tell you everything will be fine, but I can't do that, Harry."
His stomach clenched. "He still can't remember?"
"You know I can't discuss his case with you," she said. "But you can try talking to him directly."
"I tried that, but he won't answer me."
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "What?" he finally asked.
"You've fallen for him, haven't you?"
Well. He shouldn't have been surprised. "Er ..."
"Oh, Harry. What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't really thinking, truth be told."
She snorted. "No shit."
"Hermione!"
"Oh, please." The corners of her mouth twitched. "But seriously, Harry. Malfoy? It can't end well."
Harry dragged his hands through his hair and groaned. "I know. It already blew up in my face."
"Well, you lied to him."
"I know."
"How did you expect it to end?"
"I never expected it to begin in the first place!" It was true. He had gone to Skye on a standard mission. Okay, it was Malfoy, so nothing about it was standard. But still. He'd gone there with the intent to investigate and report back. Perhaps get some information out of Malfoy in the process. Maybe convince him to answer some questions at the Ministry. He certainly hadn't planned on ...
"Is it serious?"
Was it? He'd nearly responded automatically with a resounding no, but something stopped him.
"Oh, Harry."
The words hung in the air. How did he feel about Draco? "No," he finally said.
Hermione raised a sceptical brow.
"But I think it could be," he admitted. "Everything I feel now is clouded by ... well, everything. We got together under false pretences. He doesn't know me at all. Hell, he doesn't even know himself." She reached down and squeezed his shoulder. "But the time we spent together was great. We became close, and ..." His words drifted along with his thoughts.
Silence filled the room for a few minutes before Hermione whispered, "You didn't ...?" Her blush spoke volumes, communicating her thoughts to make up for her inability to say the words.
"No!" Harry assured her. "I couldn't. Not ever. Not under those circumstances." He didn't bother to mention how close he'd come to doing exactly that.
"Good, because that would be wrong."
"I know."
"But you wanted to," she said.
"Oh, yeah." He looked up to see her smirking. "Definitely."
"And he wanted to?"
Harry smiled before he could catch himself. "Yes." His smile slipped away. "But not anymore." He clenched and unclenched his fists. He'd handled everything so poorly. "Not ever."
"If that's true, can you blame him?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No."
Hermione pushed away from her desk abruptly. "When was the last time you tried getting in touch?"
"A couple of days ago, I guess."
"You might want to try again."
"But --"
"I can't discuss a patient's progress with you, Harry. You know that."
"Even as the Auror investigating a case?"
"If the Ministry wishes to consult the hospital about a patient, they'll have to have a properly-executed warrant to obtain information." Her eyes pleaded with him. "Talk to him," she said.
He turned to leave.
"Oh, and Harry?" He turned back and she winked. "You know what they say. Never say never."
~ * ~ * ~
A half hour later, he found himself aboard the ferry heading for Skye. He could Apparate directly over, but he needed the time to think. Okay, he was stalling, but in his defence, he was using the time to think. Could there really be a chance? He wanted there to be, desperately, but who was he kidding? Even before he'd lied to Draco, they'd had history. Bad history. A friendship between the two was unlikely, never mind something more. No matter what had transpired between them recently. Armed with the slightest optimism thanks to Hermione's words, Harry hoped this meeting wouldn't be their last.
Hermione's other words - Can you blame him? - edged their way to the forefront of his mind. He tried to put himself in Draco's shoes. Waking up, alone, with no memories of who he was or how he'd got there. Reading a book that told him some of what he needed to know, presumably written by his own hand, yet completely foreign. Surrounded by unfamiliar faces, he'd been drawn to the familiar - magic - even if he hadn't known why. Months later, someone comes along and there's an inexplicable connection.
In a world where he knew no one and could trust no one - he couldn't even trust his own mind - the one person that anchored him ...
Oh, God. What had he done?
His hands began to sweat as he approached Draco's cottage; he wiped them on his trousers, shook off the snowflakes that had gathered in his hair and knocked. When the sound of footsteps broke the silence, Harry willed his breathing to slow. His stomach shifted uncomfortably and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.
The door opened, and as soon as Draco saw him, his soft features hardened. And still he looked gorgeous. Harry wanted nothing more than to take him in his arms.
"Potter." Draco stood blocking the opening and crossed his arms over his chest. "Come to arrest me now?"
What? Harry almost laughed as he processed this. Was that the reason Draco hadn't returned any of Harry's calls or messages? "No, I'm not going to arrest you."
"Oh, really?"
Harry suppressed a smile. "Really."
"Then why are you here?"
Harry glanced around and shuffled his feet in the snow that was beginning to gather on the porch. "May I come in?"
"That depends on why you're here."
"Because I wanted to see you."
Draco snorted. "And I'm supposed to believe you?"
"It's the truth."
"We've known each other for how many years now? Oh, yes. I remember it all very clearly now. I offered you my hand in friendship back when we were kids and you dismissed it." His jaw tightened as he paused. "At no point in all the years since did you ever want to see me." He uncrossed his arms and held up a finger on one hand, pointing to it with the other. "You've wanted to watch me, follow me, chase me, and sometimes stalk me." He counted each statement off on his fingers. "And always you wanted to catch me doing something wrong. Listen to what I said. Hide in the shadows. Now we're adults, you chose to hide in plain sight. And yet still you watched me, listened to me, spied on me. And you expect me to believe, after all this time, after all these years, you just want to see me? Spare me, Potter."
"Draco, please."
"No, Potter. Don't bother pretending that you spent those three weeks with me for any other reason than your job. So, if you're not going to arrest me, we have nothing more to say to each other."
He stepped back and began to close the door, but Harry stuck his foot inside. "I'm sorry," he said.
"I don't believe you." Draco glared down at Harry's foot.
Harry followed his gaze and realised he was still doing what he always did. Pushing his way into Draco's life, whether he wanted him there or not. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
Draco laughed derisively. "You didn't hurt me, Potter. You played me. There's a big difference. In order for you to hurt me, I'd have had to give a shit in the first place. I just wanted a fuck and you were there."
Harry removed his foot, turned around, and walked away. He didn't look back when the door slammed shut.
~ * ~ * ~
He returned to work with a renewed sense of purpose and became almost obsessive about his cases. It felt good to have focus again. If people avoided him now more than ever, so be it. He didn't need the distractions anyway. Ron had asked Harry what was wrong, but Harry had brushed him off with everyone else. He didn't want to talk about it.
When, after a few weeks of this, Kingsley approached him and told him he needed to spend a little less time at the office and a little more time at home, that his drive, though appreciated, would only lead him to burn out, he nodded and left Kingsley's office. He covertly shrank the files he was currently working on, stuffed them in his robes, and gathered his things to leave. As he passed by Ron's desk, he muttered, "Satisfied?" Ron's pink ears confirmed what he already knew.
Harry began working from home that day. He went into the office for his usual hours, still working ten each day, knowing it would be too obvious that something was up if he worked any less than that, and volunteering to go into the field whenever anyone was needed, whenever possible without Ron. Then he spent another six to eight hours poring through files at home. He collapsed into bed each night and rose at the break of dawn each morning. And if visions of blond hair and grey eyes haunted his dreams, there wasn't much he could do about it.
During waking hours, he had no time to think of anything but work. Which was just as he wanted it.
A few weeks later, however, the next suspected acquaintance of Lucius Malfoy was arrested, and Kingsley wanted Draco brought in for questioning. Again. Harry's protests, that the man deserved to live his life away from the shadow of his father's deeds, fell on deaf ears. And if Harry didn't go, someone else would. Someone that didn't know Draco. Or worse: someone that did and wanted to see him pay.
When Harry had returned from Skye that last time, he'd sent Draco one more owl, this time on official Ministry parchment. He'd stated that, now Draco had his memory back, he was wanted for questioning in two pending cases. Draco had voluntarily appeared at the Ministry two days later, solicitor at his side, and had submitted a statement. He allowed Fletchley, the Auror charged with those cases, to ask his questions, and had left without Harry even knowing he'd been in the building.
Harry wondered absently if Draco would talk to him now.
He went home that night for the first time in weeks without any files. His thoughts, given free reign, returned to Draco, and inevitably to his case. Harry hadn't thought about it since he'd last seen Draco.
He'd let his emotions take over, and hadn't finished investigating what had happened to Draco. Even though it wasn't an official case, Harry had promised to help him, and he'd dropped the ball. A fresh wave of guilt washed over him at the realisation. Once they'd hit a dead end in the investigation, Harry had turned his focus to helping Draco regain his memory. But when Harry had visited Draco, he'd been so devastated by Draco's words that he'd simply left. Merlin, he was an idiot. He hadn't even asked Draco if he remembered what had happened or who the man was. For all Harry knew, the man had tricked or manipulated or Imperiused Draco into withdrawing his funds.
Ron had reached a dead end when investigating the unknown man on the ferry, the one that had checked in as Thomas and set Draco's life on Skye in motion. But Draco had his memory back now. Harry could ask him about the man, maybe start the case up again. Then he could find the bastard and make him pay for what he'd done to Draco.
With renewed determination, Harry prepared for his trip the next day. He went back to the Ministry to retrieve Draco's file, then spent a few hours perusing it and making notes. He needed to be careful; he didn't want Draco getting the mistaken impression that he was the one under investigation rather than the person who'd injured him. But Harry wouldn't hide the fact that the Ministry wanted to question him again. He had learned that lesson.
~ * ~ * ~
Harry Apparated directly to Draco's house this time. Draco answered and once again blocked Harry's way. "What do you want this time, Potter?"
"May I come in?" he asked.
"What do you want?" he repeated.
"The Ministry sent me."
"Hmm. So shall I let you in or slam the door in your face?"
Harry shrugged. "Whatever works for you, I suppose. But if you don't speak to me, they'll just send someone else."
"Lucky me." He stepped aside and motioned Harry to enter. "What do they want now?"
Harry took a seat on one of the sofas. He shut out the memory of what had happened here the last time. "There's a new case."
Draco sat on the other sofa. "There's always a new case."
"I know. I told Kingsley that we couldn't keep doing this to you, every time they bring in someone that might have had a conversation with your dad sometime in the past."
Draco gave a wry grin. "And what did he say to that?"
Harry scowled. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"Lucky me," he said again.
"What I suggest to you is to have your lawyer find out all he can about the case, consult with you, and then you can come in and give a statement." He said nothing. "It won't stop them asking you again next time - obviously - but it will mean they'll be off your back sooner rather than later. Maybe buy you some solitude until the next arrest." He tried to lighten the mood a bit. "And they have to run out of your dad's associates sometime, right?" Draco's look made Harry wonder just how many palms Lucius had greased over the years. "Eventually."
Draco crossed his legs and rested folded hands upon his lap. He said nothing, merely stared off into space, his mood unreadable.
"The last time I was here, I didn't get the chance to ask you what you remember."
"Everything," he replied.
Harry nodded. "No missing time, no gaps to fill?"
"Nope," he said. "But then Granger would have already told you that, wouldn't she?"
Harry shook his head. "She didn't tell me anything."
"You expect me to believe you just happened to show up at my house within a day of me regaining my memories?"
Ah. "Hermione told me to come see you, but she didn't say why. I had gone to see her, to find out how you were doing, and she told me to ask you myself."
"She said nothing about my case?"
"Nothing," Harry said. "In fact, she told me I'd have to bring a warrant if I wanted any information from her."
"Hmm. I think my respect for her just went up a notch."
"She gave you her word that she wouldn't discuss the case with me, and she kept it," Harry said. "Besides, she swore an oath, and she wouldn't break that just for me."
"That's refreshing, especially since you seem to be rewarded for breaking the rules at every turn." Harry made to argue, but Draco added, "Or at least you aren't punished like the rest of us mere mortals."
Harry chose to ignore his taunts. "Will you let me help you get to the bottom of what happened?"
Draco looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean someone wiped your memory. Don't you want to know who did that and why?"
"I already know."
Anger boiled up inside Harry. "Hermione knew this, but didn't bring it forward? She should have told me if she knew something about a crime."
"There was no crime," Draco said.
"What?"
"I hired him to do it."
Harry stared at him, stunned. "Why?"
"I guess I'd reached a point in my life where it just wasn't worth it anymore. You know, carrying around all that baggage. I wanted a way out, and I had the money to do it."
"But--" Harry couldn't imagine willingly letting someone poke around in his mind. "What if you couldn't have retrieved your memories? What if it was permanent?"
Draco sat forward and smiled sadly. "That's what I paid for," he said. "I never wanted to remember."
"But surely you had some good memories? What about your mother?"
Draco cringed. "I was in a bad place. I didn't want to go on, and besides killing myself - something that would have been the ultimate insult to my mother - I didn't know what else to do."
You could have come to me, Harry thought, but then realised how ridiculous that was. They hadn't exchanged a civil word the entire time they'd known each other.
"Are you sorry you did it? Got your memory back, I mean?"
He shook his head. "No. I had no idea how vulnerable I would be." He clenched his fists. "I never want to feel that way again."
Harry smiled. "Good."
"I did keep a few memories," he said. "Left them at Gringotts. I suppose I figured, on the off chance I was found, I ought to have some link to my past. Some way to arm myself against whatever I'd have to face."
That made sense. It also explained why he'd left some funds there. A back-up plan.
"I'm sorry about everything," Harry said. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, eyes fixed on the coffee table. "I never meant for any of this to ... well, for things to get so complicated." He looked up and caught Draco glancing in his direction, before he went back to staring at a point above the mantle. "I never meant to hurt you," he said.
Draco's head whipped around and he glared at Harry. Harry raised a hand. "And even if you weren't hurt, I'm sorry about everything." He took a breath and decided that wasn't right at all. He threw caution to the wind and decided to put it all out there. "Well, not everything, really, because I rather fancy you, and I'm not sorry to have discovered that. Even if nothing will ever come of it, I'm glad to have had the chance to know you without the complications of our past."
Draco's glare had lessened into more of a curious stare, and he tilted his head slightly, as if trying to figure out the oddity before him. But he still said nothing.
"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"
Draco smirked. "Never."
Relieved at finally breaking through, Harry trudged on. "I really did just want to see you the last time I came here. To see how you were doing."
"I know."
"You knew? Then why?"
Draco ran his hands through his perfect hair and sighed heavily. "Because what if I was wrong? What if you were still playing me?"
"I was never playing you."
Draco glared at him.
"Not after that first day."
Draco stood, body rigid, arms hanging stiffly by his sides. "And here we were, doing so well with the truth."
Harry reached for his arm and held him there. "I know I never told you who I was or what I'd originally come to Skye for, but ... besides that, everything I said was the truth."
"You expect me to believe that?"
Would Harry believe him if the tables were turned? "No, I expect you to tell me I'm a liar."
Draco's mouth twitched. "And then what?"
"And then I expect you'll tell me that you'll never believe me, unless I prove it."
"And what will you say to that?"
Harry stood up and took Draco's face in his hands. "Nothing." He brought his lips to Draco's, gently at first, then a bit more insistently when he didn't meet with resistance. He kissed one corner, then made his way to the other, promising with every press of his lips never to deceive Draco again.
Harry had never initiated a kiss between them. Until now. Perhaps that was part of the reason Draco hadn't believed him. Harry had wanted to kiss him, plenty of times, but not with the lies between them. But now there was nothing to stop him. And he never wanted to stop kissing Draco. Not ever.
Draco's arms gradually wrapped around Harry's back and he drew their bodies together. Harry first nibbled then trailed Draco's lips with his tongue. When Draco's lips parted with a whimper, Harry slipped his tongue inside the welcoming warmth of Draco's mouth and knew at once he was where he belonged. He could never willingly give this up. How he'd ever questioned his feelings for Draco he didn't know. Sure, he'd fallen for Thomas, but he'd known he was Draco all along.
But Draco had fallen for James, a voice reminded him. Reluctantly, Harry grasped Draco's shoulders and pulled away. "Draco, wait."
Draco's body went rigid and his eyes turned cold. "Change your mind, Potter?" he snapped. "Suddenly remember who you were with?"
"Yes," Harry whispered.
"Right." Draco shoved Harry away. "Get the fuck out of my house and never come back.
"No, wait, Draco. Let me explain."
"I get it, Potter. Really I do." He marched to the front door and flung it open. "You wanted to be sure that I knew exactly who had screwed me over. Just to be sure. To make my humiliation complete. Well, mission accomplished." He waved his arm towards the door. "Now get out."
"No!" Harry drew his wand and with a flourish the door flew from Draco's grip, banging shut. Draco opened his mouth and with another wave of Harry's wand he fell silent. He turned towards Harry, arms flailing wildly, and Harry raised his arm. "Don't make me tie you down."
Draco charged him.
"Have it your way," Harry said, and a moment later a fuming Draco was glaring at Harry, strapped to a chair with invisible bonds.
"I'm not enjoying this, I'll have you know." Draco glared some more and Harry stifled a chuckle. "Okay, maybe a little. But just give me a chance to explain." Draco's glare threatened to bore a hole through the centre of Harry's forehead. "I'll be quick. Then I'll let you go." Draco huffed and stomped his foot.
"Right. Well. Here's the thing. I've ... I'm not very good at this. Words, I mean. In fact, I'm pants at it." A grunt from Draco's direction brought his focus back. "Sorry." Draco rolled his eyes.
Harry began to pace. "Look, I like you. Really like you. I think that's rather obvious. But before, every time you kissed me, I had to pull back. I couldn't go any further, shouldn't have even kissed you in the first place, not when you had no idea who I was." Harry stopped pacing and looked down at the carpet, unable to face Draco. "Merlin, you had no idea who you were. It wouldn't have been right."
He chanced a glance at Draco then. He was still glaring, but the edge had worn off slightly. "At first you were understanding, but then each time it was harder for me to pull away, and you started to get annoyed with me. Still, though, you were great. And then I knew. I couldn't keep lying to you. That day the car nearly hit us, I had planned to tell you everything. But then ..."
Draco's glare had faded to a slightly annoyed stare by now. Harry took that as a good sign, so he carried on. "But now, well, now there are no lies between us, nothing to stop me from ... well." Draco's expression turned exasperated. "Except you."
Draco's face darkened once more. "But not the way you think," Harry was quick to add. "See, I knew who you were the whole time." Harry approached the chair and slid Draco's left sleeve up, running his finger gently over the Dark Mark. "It doesn't suit you," he said, looking into Draco's eyes. "When I fell for you, I knew exactly what that meant. But you didn't. You didn't fall for me. You fell for James." He tried not to sound like a wounded puppy, but he didn't think he succeeded.
Draco shook the chair in frustration, but Harry just waved his hand. "I know I told you that was me. And it was. It is. This is really who I am. But you didn't know that at the time, and --"
Draco's foot banged once more and his increased movements nearly lifted the chair off the floor. He was glaring again.
"Promise you won't attack me?" Harry asked. Draco shook his head. Harry chuckled. "Oh, right. Honesty." Draco shook the chair and Harry relented. "Okay, okay."
He waved his wand and the bonds holding Draco and the Silencing Charm lifted.
"Potter, you complete idiot!" Not exactly the words Harry was hoping for, but fair enough. "I know who you are now, don't I?"
"Er ..."
"And I've known for months."
"I suppose."
He stood up, fists clenched, arms by his side, barely restraining himself. "So, don't you think that it's possible that I've already come to terms with all this - who you are, who I am, and what that means?"
"But you said --"
"I was lying. Obviously." Harry's heart skipped a beat. Draco brushed off his clothes, as though the spell had left behind a film of dirt. "It wouldn't do to have you believe you got to me."
"No." Harry suppressed a grin. "That wouldn't do at all."
Draco walked towards Harry. "So."
"So," Harry said. He didn't resist when Draco pushed his hand down; instead, he holstered his wand and wrapped his arm around Draco's back.
Draco leaned in, his breath brushing Harry's ear. "Are you planning to keep pushing me away, Potter?" He took Harry's earlobe gently between his teeth, sending shivers down Harry's spine.
Harry shook his head a fraction, not wanting to dislodge that wonderful mouth. "No."
"Mm. That's good." He nibbled Harry's ear some more, then his tongue joined in and sent fresh shock waves directly to Harry's groin. "Because I don't know how much more of that I could take." He chose that moment to run his hands down Harry's back, grasp his arse, and grind their burgeoning erections together.
Harry ran his hands through Draco's hair and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. It was all tongues and teeth and passion and Harry never wanted it to end. He could lose himself in the taste, the feel of Draco.
Who was he kidding? He was already lost.
They rutted together like teenagers, and in a way that's how Harry felt with Draco. Out of control, completely caught up in the moment. Without so much as a touch of Draco's hand, Harry felt his orgasm building. "Oh, God." A few more thrusts and Harry tumbled over the edge, followed shortly afterwards by Draco.
"Well," Draco panted, "that would have been embarrassing if we hadn't both ..."
Harry captured his mouth in another kiss, not quite ready for this encounter to be over, despite the current state of his pants. Embarrassing to be sure. "Mm."
"Potter," Draco said. Harry ignored him and kept kissing him. "Harry."
Harry stopped. "Say that again."
"What?"
"My name."
"Potter."
Harry glared at him.
"Harry."
"I like it when you say my name."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You're such a girl."
Harry kissed him again, more forcefully this time, and ground their groins together, reminding him clearly that Harry was anything but a girl.
"Ew!" Draco grimaced as he pulled back. "Honestly, Potter. Can't you do something about this mess?"
Harry chuckled and waved his hand, wandlessly clearing it away. "Now who's the girl?"
"Show off."
"Oh!" Harry said. "I forgot. I have something for you."
He released Draco from his grasp, but not without giving him a parting kiss. He retrieved his bag from where he'd left it, just outside the doorway, and brought it inside. At Draco's questioning look, he shrugged. "I didn't know how you were going to react, so I thought it best not to bring it in with me."
With a smile, he handed Draco a rectangular box. Draco frowned, then seemed to register the possibility. "It's not ...?"
"Open it."
"It is," he said as he stared down at his old Hawthorn wand. He frowned when he looked up at Harry. "You had this the whole time?" he asked.
"Actually, the Ministry took it as evidence after the war," Harry explained. "I simply retrieved it before I came to see you that last time."
Draco removed it from the box and sparks flew out the end. "I thought they'd destroyed it." His face lit up as the magic coursed through him. Harry remembered that feeling well, the first time he'd held his own wand after repairing it. Like a long lost friend coming home. As he watched Draco's face become more animated with every spell he cast, objects circling the air around him, Harry grinned. No, it was more than that. It was like a part of him had been missing, like he'd only felt whole again when they'd been united once more.
Draco twirled the wand between his fingers and all the objects returned to their places on the shelves. He stalked towards Harry, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "You left this outside, where anyone could pick it up?" he asked.
Harry raised his hands in surrender. "I concealed it and cast charms on it so no one could pick it up. No worries. I wouldn't have risked it falling into the wrong hands."
"And you left it outside because ...?"
"Well, I wasn't sure if ... well, in the interest of honesty, I wasn't sure that you wouldn't have used it against me, once you got hold of it."
"You should trust your instincts," Draco said. And before Harry knew what was happening, he saw his own wand fly out of its holster and into Draco's hand. Then he felt the cold tendrils of invisible bonds wrapping themselves around his arms and legs. Harry tried not to panic, tried to gauge what was going through Draco's mind.
"Draco?"
Draco grinned, his eyes twinkling and his wand twirling between his fingers. "Yes, Harry?"
"What are you doing?"
"Why, I thought that was rather obvious," he said, his voice teasing but dark. "One would think a big, strong Auror like yourself could figure it out."
Harry opened his mouth, but at once his voice was cut off and he felt himself lifted into the air and levitated down the hall. When he landed on the bed, the bindings pulled his arms and legs taut, the other ends presumably wrapped around the four posters of the bed.
Draco stood at the end of the bed, a feral grin on his face, the wand aimed menacingly at Harry.
Harry's mind flashed images before his eyes, each one successively worse. Something tickled the back of his mind. How was this even possible? That wand should still show its allegiance to me, shouldn't it? Maybe that allegiance only carried as far as preventing his death. Harry calmed his breathing and willed his heart to slow down. Not that he thought for a minute Draco would kill him. But still. He pulled on the bindings. Good to know he couldn't. Not with this wand anyway. Then again, he must have another one here somewhere.
He looked around for a way out of the situation when Draco climbed onto the bed, crawling up Harry's body. He smirked. "Turn and turn about. It's only fair, isn't it Potter?"
Harry's heart threatened to burst from his chest. Fuck it if this predatory Draco wasn't the hottest sight he'd ever seen.
Draco leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear, "I never promised not to attack you," he said, then trailed his tongue along the lobe, then the inside of Harry's ear. Harry's cock gave an appreciative twitch. Draco chuckled. "Now that I've got you here, Harry, whatever am I going to do with you?"
Harry moaned and relaxed into Draco's touch. Anything you want, he thought. Anything at all.
~ FIN ~
Summary: When Harry is sent undercover to get Draco's testimony against two suspected Death Eaters, he finds Draco living as a Muggle with no memory of his past. Harry, determined to find out who did this to Draco, finds himself enthralled by the magic of the Isle of Skye and fascinated by the stranger he thought he knew.
~ * ~ * ~
When Harry returned to the hotel after a much-needed walk to clear his head, Draco was there waiting for him.
"Come on in," he said, and opened the door to let Draco go in ahead of him. At least this time the place was tidy. Not that it made any difference now.
Harry offered him the chair, but he remained standing and glared at Harry. "Why didn't you tell me?"
"Er."
Draco clenched his teeth. "When I told you I didn't know who I was, that I didn't remember any of my past, why didn't you say something then?"
"I --"
"I trusted you. I told you something I hadn't told another living soul. I trusted you enough to show you my journal, to tell you everything."
Harry shuffled his feet and stared at the floor. The silence screamed in the small quarters, crushing Harry with its weight. But what could he say? He had no excuse, no defence. Anything he said now would only be self-serving. He'd played his role well - too well - and he'd crossed a line. And the time for coming clean had long since passed.
"You knew who I was the whole time. You knew that I desperately wanted to connect with my past. That I felt vulnerable without that connection. And what did you do?"
"Nothing," Harry mumbled.
"Oh, no," Draco argued. "If you'd have done nothing that might have been forgivable. But no. You had to string me along, give me hope, make me believe that you wanted to help me. That you gave a shit about me!"
"I do, Draco. Really I do."
"Stop calling me that! That's not who I am! I'm Thomas."
Harry swallowed. He'd really cocked this up. "Thomas. Sorry. I didn't mean to --"
"You didn't mean to what? To make me think you cared only so you could arrest me for something I don't even remember doing?"
"I'm not going to arrest you."
"No?" Draco cried. "Why should I believe you? Every word out of your mouth has been a lie, since the day we met."
"No, it hasn't. I swear it hasn't."
"Oh, wait. That's right. We've known each other for years. Were you this honest with me at school? Or did I always have to watch my back then too?"
Harry considered that rich, coming from Malfoy of all people, but he thought better of expressing that view. No point sending him right round the twist. He was already teetering close to the edge as it was.
"Tell me something, James. Harry. Whoever the fuck you are. Was it worth it? Did you have a good laugh at my expense? Are you satisfied that I've paid for whatever the hell I did back in school? Can you leave me alone now?"
"I want to help you," Harry said.
"No!" Draco held up a hand and shook his head, his eyes closed as though to bolster his strength. "Get away from me. Get out of this town, get off this island, and never come back. Just leave me in peace."
"But, Draco. Thomas. Let me help you."
His laugh felt like a slap in the face. "Don't do me any favours, Potter."
For a brief moment, Harry thought Draco had remembered. The way he'd spit out Harry's name sounded eerily familiar. But the look of anguish and pain in his eyes belied his outrage. Harry had hurt him. Deeply. And now he never wanted to see him again.
~ * ~ * ~
Harry Apparated straight to St Mungo's after Draco left. He found Hermione in her office, evidently finished with her rounds for the day.
"Hermione, you have to help Draco."
She pursed her lips, crossed her arms, and lifted her chin. "No, I don't."
"Then help me." He pulled her hands free, grasped them, and looked hopefully into her eyes. "Please."
She pulled her hands from his grasp and made to say something, but Harry stopped her.
"If he regains his memory, perhaps he'll have something of worth to tell us about the remaining Death Eaters." Her shoulders relaxed marginally. "That's why Kingsley sent me to investigate Malfoy in the first place." Not that Harry gave a toss about what Draco could tell them at this point. He just wanted to help him piece together his life.
If Hermione knew what he was thinking - which was quite likely - she didn't let on. She began shuffling papers around on her desk as though searching for something, but she didn't fool Harry. He willed himself to remain patient, to give her the time to rationalise why she was about to help the former Slytherin who had never been anything but nasty to her. He sat back, remained quiet, and kept his face blank.
When she stood up and walked to her filing cabinet, her back to him and her expression hidden, he knew she was in. Not looking at him, she said, "Fine. But I'm only doing this for you."
"I know."
"Not that I have any idea why you would want to help him."
"I told you."
"I know you a little too well for that, Harry."
"But you'll still help him?"
"No." She turned around and gave Harry that look she always gave him or Ron, when she didn't agree, but humoured them anyway. Rather like an indulgent parent might give a child when they knew he was about to make a huge mistake. "But I can't seem to say no to you, can I?"
Harry picked her up and spun her around, kissing her on the forehead after he placed her back down on the ground. "Thanks, Hermione. You're the best."
"Yeah, yeah." She grinned back. "Now, tell me all you know about Draco's case."
Harry told her all he knew, and left with a spring to his step. If anyone could help Draco, Hermione could. Or, if she couldn't help him herself, at least she could figure out who could.
~ * ~ * ~
"I need to see Draco," Hermione told Harry two days later. "We can set up portkeys for him to come to the hospital for tests. I've done all I can from what you told me, but now I need to see him to determine what the problem is."
"The problem is he's lost his memory."
She sighed and rolled her eyes like she used to do back at Hogwarts. "I need to determine if his condition is as a result of neurological trauma, some sort of infection, a curse, or some more benign magic."
"Benign magic?"
Again with the eyes. "Yes, Harry, magic. Remember second year, Professor Lockhart? A strong Memory Charm can work wonders."
Harry opened his mouth to respond, then closed it. He hadn't thought of that. Why hadn't he thought of that?
Because he hadn't believed Draco when he'd told him in the first place. Then he'd got to know him. Draco looked and acted perfectly well otherwise. He seemed well-adjusted, happy even. Oh, God. Why hadn't he considered that Thomas might not be Draco after all? He was, of course, but if he'd been cursed, he might actually be a completely different person. He acted like a completely different person. Harry had convinced himself that it was the real Draco, just removed from all the prejudice and rivalry of his past, but what if ...
Harry was an idiot. "Can a Memory Charm wipe out a person's entire history?" he wondered aloud. "Wouldn't that be dangerous?"
Hermione nodded. "You saw what happened to Lockhart."
"But that was because of Ron's faulty wand." Harry fought against the looming panic. "A properly-cast Memory Charm couldn't do that, could it?"
"Not a conventional one, no. But you've seen the effects of alterations made to charms, the compounded results when spells are supplemented with potions, or the power of Dark Magic."
"You don't think this ... that he might have been ...?"
"No, Harry, I don't think anything of the sort," she said. "In fact, I don't know that his memories are even lost. That's why I have to see him."
"I don't think he'll agree to it. You should have seen his reaction when I Apparated us from that cliff."
"Honestly, Harry. If you didn't know about magic, had nearly been hit by a car, then hurtled over a cliff, only to find yourself safe in a room halfway across the island, I think you might react similarly." She smirked. "Don't you?"
He shrugged. "I'd probably think I'd gone mad."
"Precisely. He's had some time to digest what you told him. And, from what you told me, he wants to get his memory back."
Harry recalled how broken Draco had looked when he'd first confided in Harry. "Desperately."
"Good. Then he shouldn't put up too much of a fuss when I ask to speak with him."
Harry laughed. "Considering how mad he was with me for lying to him, I'd be surprised if he let us in." Harry eyed her knowingly. "You don't believe he's lost his memory at all, do you?"
"I have no reason to doubt you, Harry."
"But you don't believe him."
"I haven't seen him, so I can't say one way or the other."
Harry nodded. "Fair enough.."
~ * ~ * ~
Harry stood facing Draco's cottage, Hermione by his side. He let out a sigh, braced himself, and knocked.
When Draco opened the door, Harry lifted a hand to pre-empt any argument Draco might put forward. "Thomas, this is Hermione. She's a Healer." At his confused look, Harry elaborated. "A magical doctor. She has done some research on your condition and has asked to see you. I won't be involved at all, but I know how much this means to you. Please don't let your anger with me prevent you from getting the help you need."
Draco narrowed his eyes at Hermione. "Do you know me too?"
She nodded. "Yes. We all went to school together."
"And you're his friend?"
"I am."
"Don't let that --" Harry began, but Draco's glare stopped him mid-sentence.
"You're a doctor?" She nodded. "And you think you can help me?"
"Memory Charms are common, as are curses," Hermione explained. "I haven't seen anything present quite like how Harry describes your condition, but I did some research and there is some precedent for this. As you can imagine, I can't diagnose you without first running some tests."
He considered her words for a moment, then nodded. "You have sworn an oath of some sort, to help people?"
"I have."
"And you won't discuss any of this with anyone?"
"I will consult with other Healers," she said. "I am, as you can imagine, still fairly new at my profession, and this goes beyond my area of expertise." When Draco said nothing, she added, "But I won't talk about your case with Harry. Or anyone else that isn't on staff at the hospital."
Draco nodded curtly. "Very well."
Hermione's eyes widened and her mouth dropped open. "You mean you'll agree to talk with me?"
Draco frowned. "That's what you're here for, isn't it?"
"Well, yes, but --"
"But you didn't expect me to agree?"
"No, I didn't."
"Because of Harry?"
"Because of our past."
Draco folded his arms and leaned against the doorjamb, smiling sadly. "If I knew my past, I suppose I might be wary." He glanced at Harry, then back to Hermione. "I'm angry with him, there's no question about that, but I've thought about things and I can't say that I don't trust him. He seems rather the trustworthy sort. Despite recent revelations, I don't think he'd do anything to intentionally harm me. So ... I suppose that means I trust you."
Harry smiled. "That's great, Draco!"
Draco shut his eyes, pinched the top of his nose between his brows, and took a deep breath, perhaps to prevent himself imploding. "I still want nothing to do with you," he said through clenched teeth. He turned to Hermione. "You may come in."
~ * ~ * ~
More than a week passed and Hermione hadn't contacted Harry with any news.
He'd tried to reach Draco, but received no response. He'd phoned, left messages, sent a letter, and even risked an owl late one evening, but it had come back unopened. Two days ago he'd stopped his pathetic attempts at communication. Draco knew where he was and how to reach him. And Hermione would have said something if Draco had stopped going to his appointments at St Mungo's, so he could always reach Harry through Hermione.
Draco didn't want to talk to him. That was clear. And Harry didn't blame him. Not one bit.
Harry retreated to work. He spent most waking hours at the Ministry and did his best to avoid Kingsley, for fear his boss would ask again how things were progressing with Draco.
Unfortunately, since a handful of cases that remained open at his desk were those of suspected or confirmed Death Eaters, he had to endure references to Malfoy Manor and Lucius Malfoy, not exactly helpful when he was trying to put the man's son out of his mind.
Harry's nerves were shot and he found himself snapping at everyone around him; people had taken the hint and now granted him a wide berth.
"Oi, Harry!"
Harry grunted a response to Ron.
"Full of sunshine and roses again today, I see."
Harry gave him a two-fingered salute.
"Right. So what'd you say to Cook?" Harry shrugged. "You had her on the verge of tears, you know."
Harry put down his quill and ran a hand through his hair. "Sorry."
"Not me you need to apologise to," he said. "But I'll take it since I'm sure you owe me a half-dozen or more from earlier in the week."
Harry rolled his eyes and picked up his quill again.
A few blessed moments of silence passed before Ron cleared his throat. In response to Harry's questioning look, he said, "Talk to Hermione."
Harry shook his head. "You know how she gets," he said. "She'll bite my head off if I interfere or try to press her into telling me something she can't."
"You mean like you're biting everyone's head off here?"
"Very funny."
"No, it's not," Ron said. "And I can't say I understand why you're letting Malfoy's situation get to you so much, but if you don't go see her now, I can't guarantee you won't end up seeing her as a patient after someone realises they've had enough of your shite and hexes your arse."
Harry crossed his arms over his chest and scowled.
"And that someone might even be me."
"Fine," Harry said, picking up his quill once more. "After work."
Ron snatched the quill from his hand. "Now."
"But I --"
"In case you'd forgotten, Malfoy is work. You're following up on one of your cases, plain and simple."
Harry opened his mouth to argue but Ron cut him off, his tone leaving no room for argument. "Get out of here before someone sends you out."
Harry slunk from the room, grumbling under his breath, but secretly relieved to have an excuse to check on Draco.
~ * ~ * ~
Hermione greeted him with a smile and motioned him into her office. "Hi, Harry." She smirked knowingly. "I'm surprised it's taken you until now to come talk to me."
"You are?"
She laughed. "I've known you since we were eleven. Patience isn't exactly your strong suit."
"No, I guess it isn't," he said. He tried not to reflect on the past when his impetuousness had caused others harm. "So how's Draco?"
"Take a seat." She indicated a chair in front of her desk and he sat down. She leaned against the desk but remained standing. "I know you want me to tell you everything will be fine, but I can't do that, Harry."
His stomach clenched. "He still can't remember?"
"You know I can't discuss his case with you," she said. "But you can try talking to him directly."
"I tried that, but he won't answer me."
She looked thoughtful for a moment. "What?" he finally asked.
"You've fallen for him, haven't you?"
Well. He shouldn't have been surprised. "Er ..."
"Oh, Harry. What were you thinking?"
"I wasn't really thinking, truth be told."
She snorted. "No shit."
"Hermione!"
"Oh, please." The corners of her mouth twitched. "But seriously, Harry. Malfoy? It can't end well."
Harry dragged his hands through his hair and groaned. "I know. It already blew up in my face."
"Well, you lied to him."
"I know."
"How did you expect it to end?"
"I never expected it to begin in the first place!" It was true. He had gone to Skye on a standard mission. Okay, it was Malfoy, so nothing about it was standard. But still. He'd gone there with the intent to investigate and report back. Perhaps get some information out of Malfoy in the process. Maybe convince him to answer some questions at the Ministry. He certainly hadn't planned on ...
"Is it serious?"
Was it? He'd nearly responded automatically with a resounding no, but something stopped him.
"Oh, Harry."
The words hung in the air. How did he feel about Draco? "No," he finally said.
Hermione raised a sceptical brow.
"But I think it could be," he admitted. "Everything I feel now is clouded by ... well, everything. We got together under false pretences. He doesn't know me at all. Hell, he doesn't even know himself." She reached down and squeezed his shoulder. "But the time we spent together was great. We became close, and ..." His words drifted along with his thoughts.
Silence filled the room for a few minutes before Hermione whispered, "You didn't ...?" Her blush spoke volumes, communicating her thoughts to make up for her inability to say the words.
"No!" Harry assured her. "I couldn't. Not ever. Not under those circumstances." He didn't bother to mention how close he'd come to doing exactly that.
"Good, because that would be wrong."
"I know."
"But you wanted to," she said.
"Oh, yeah." He looked up to see her smirking. "Definitely."
"And he wanted to?"
Harry smiled before he could catch himself. "Yes." His smile slipped away. "But not anymore." He clenched and unclenched his fists. He'd handled everything so poorly. "Not ever."
"If that's true, can you blame him?" she asked.
He shook his head. "No."
Hermione pushed away from her desk abruptly. "When was the last time you tried getting in touch?"
"A couple of days ago, I guess."
"You might want to try again."
"But --"
"I can't discuss a patient's progress with you, Harry. You know that."
"Even as the Auror investigating a case?"
"If the Ministry wishes to consult the hospital about a patient, they'll have to have a properly-executed warrant to obtain information." Her eyes pleaded with him. "Talk to him," she said.
He turned to leave.
"Oh, and Harry?" He turned back and she winked. "You know what they say. Never say never."
~ * ~ * ~
A half hour later, he found himself aboard the ferry heading for Skye. He could Apparate directly over, but he needed the time to think. Okay, he was stalling, but in his defence, he was using the time to think. Could there really be a chance? He wanted there to be, desperately, but who was he kidding? Even before he'd lied to Draco, they'd had history. Bad history. A friendship between the two was unlikely, never mind something more. No matter what had transpired between them recently. Armed with the slightest optimism thanks to Hermione's words, Harry hoped this meeting wouldn't be their last.
Hermione's other words - Can you blame him? - edged their way to the forefront of his mind. He tried to put himself in Draco's shoes. Waking up, alone, with no memories of who he was or how he'd got there. Reading a book that told him some of what he needed to know, presumably written by his own hand, yet completely foreign. Surrounded by unfamiliar faces, he'd been drawn to the familiar - magic - even if he hadn't known why. Months later, someone comes along and there's an inexplicable connection.
In a world where he knew no one and could trust no one - he couldn't even trust his own mind - the one person that anchored him ...
Oh, God. What had he done?
His hands began to sweat as he approached Draco's cottage; he wiped them on his trousers, shook off the snowflakes that had gathered in his hair and knocked. When the sound of footsteps broke the silence, Harry willed his breathing to slow. His stomach shifted uncomfortably and his heart threatened to beat out of his chest.
The door opened, and as soon as Draco saw him, his soft features hardened. And still he looked gorgeous. Harry wanted nothing more than to take him in his arms.
"Potter." Draco stood blocking the opening and crossed his arms over his chest. "Come to arrest me now?"
What? Harry almost laughed as he processed this. Was that the reason Draco hadn't returned any of Harry's calls or messages? "No, I'm not going to arrest you."
"Oh, really?"
Harry suppressed a smile. "Really."
"Then why are you here?"
Harry glanced around and shuffled his feet in the snow that was beginning to gather on the porch. "May I come in?"
"That depends on why you're here."
"Because I wanted to see you."
Draco snorted. "And I'm supposed to believe you?"
"It's the truth."
"We've known each other for how many years now? Oh, yes. I remember it all very clearly now. I offered you my hand in friendship back when we were kids and you dismissed it." His jaw tightened as he paused. "At no point in all the years since did you ever want to see me." He uncrossed his arms and held up a finger on one hand, pointing to it with the other. "You've wanted to watch me, follow me, chase me, and sometimes stalk me." He counted each statement off on his fingers. "And always you wanted to catch me doing something wrong. Listen to what I said. Hide in the shadows. Now we're adults, you chose to hide in plain sight. And yet still you watched me, listened to me, spied on me. And you expect me to believe, after all this time, after all these years, you just want to see me? Spare me, Potter."
"Draco, please."
"No, Potter. Don't bother pretending that you spent those three weeks with me for any other reason than your job. So, if you're not going to arrest me, we have nothing more to say to each other."
He stepped back and began to close the door, but Harry stuck his foot inside. "I'm sorry," he said.
"I don't believe you." Draco glared down at Harry's foot.
Harry followed his gaze and realised he was still doing what he always did. Pushing his way into Draco's life, whether he wanted him there or not. "I'm sorry I hurt you."
Draco laughed derisively. "You didn't hurt me, Potter. You played me. There's a big difference. In order for you to hurt me, I'd have had to give a shit in the first place. I just wanted a fuck and you were there."
Harry removed his foot, turned around, and walked away. He didn't look back when the door slammed shut.
~ * ~ * ~
He returned to work with a renewed sense of purpose and became almost obsessive about his cases. It felt good to have focus again. If people avoided him now more than ever, so be it. He didn't need the distractions anyway. Ron had asked Harry what was wrong, but Harry had brushed him off with everyone else. He didn't want to talk about it.
When, after a few weeks of this, Kingsley approached him and told him he needed to spend a little less time at the office and a little more time at home, that his drive, though appreciated, would only lead him to burn out, he nodded and left Kingsley's office. He covertly shrank the files he was currently working on, stuffed them in his robes, and gathered his things to leave. As he passed by Ron's desk, he muttered, "Satisfied?" Ron's pink ears confirmed what he already knew.
Harry began working from home that day. He went into the office for his usual hours, still working ten each day, knowing it would be too obvious that something was up if he worked any less than that, and volunteering to go into the field whenever anyone was needed, whenever possible without Ron. Then he spent another six to eight hours poring through files at home. He collapsed into bed each night and rose at the break of dawn each morning. And if visions of blond hair and grey eyes haunted his dreams, there wasn't much he could do about it.
During waking hours, he had no time to think of anything but work. Which was just as he wanted it.
A few weeks later, however, the next suspected acquaintance of Lucius Malfoy was arrested, and Kingsley wanted Draco brought in for questioning. Again. Harry's protests, that the man deserved to live his life away from the shadow of his father's deeds, fell on deaf ears. And if Harry didn't go, someone else would. Someone that didn't know Draco. Or worse: someone that did and wanted to see him pay.
When Harry had returned from Skye that last time, he'd sent Draco one more owl, this time on official Ministry parchment. He'd stated that, now Draco had his memory back, he was wanted for questioning in two pending cases. Draco had voluntarily appeared at the Ministry two days later, solicitor at his side, and had submitted a statement. He allowed Fletchley, the Auror charged with those cases, to ask his questions, and had left without Harry even knowing he'd been in the building.
Harry wondered absently if Draco would talk to him now.
He went home that night for the first time in weeks without any files. His thoughts, given free reign, returned to Draco, and inevitably to his case. Harry hadn't thought about it since he'd last seen Draco.
He'd let his emotions take over, and hadn't finished investigating what had happened to Draco. Even though it wasn't an official case, Harry had promised to help him, and he'd dropped the ball. A fresh wave of guilt washed over him at the realisation. Once they'd hit a dead end in the investigation, Harry had turned his focus to helping Draco regain his memory. But when Harry had visited Draco, he'd been so devastated by Draco's words that he'd simply left. Merlin, he was an idiot. He hadn't even asked Draco if he remembered what had happened or who the man was. For all Harry knew, the man had tricked or manipulated or Imperiused Draco into withdrawing his funds.
Ron had reached a dead end when investigating the unknown man on the ferry, the one that had checked in as Thomas and set Draco's life on Skye in motion. But Draco had his memory back now. Harry could ask him about the man, maybe start the case up again. Then he could find the bastard and make him pay for what he'd done to Draco.
With renewed determination, Harry prepared for his trip the next day. He went back to the Ministry to retrieve Draco's file, then spent a few hours perusing it and making notes. He needed to be careful; he didn't want Draco getting the mistaken impression that he was the one under investigation rather than the person who'd injured him. But Harry wouldn't hide the fact that the Ministry wanted to question him again. He had learned that lesson.
~ * ~ * ~
Harry Apparated directly to Draco's house this time. Draco answered and once again blocked Harry's way. "What do you want this time, Potter?"
"May I come in?" he asked.
"What do you want?" he repeated.
"The Ministry sent me."
"Hmm. So shall I let you in or slam the door in your face?"
Harry shrugged. "Whatever works for you, I suppose. But if you don't speak to me, they'll just send someone else."
"Lucky me." He stepped aside and motioned Harry to enter. "What do they want now?"
Harry took a seat on one of the sofas. He shut out the memory of what had happened here the last time. "There's a new case."
Draco sat on the other sofa. "There's always a new case."
"I know. I told Kingsley that we couldn't keep doing this to you, every time they bring in someone that might have had a conversation with your dad sometime in the past."
Draco gave a wry grin. "And what did he say to that?"
Harry scowled. "I'm here, aren't I?"
"Lucky me," he said again.
"What I suggest to you is to have your lawyer find out all he can about the case, consult with you, and then you can come in and give a statement." He said nothing. "It won't stop them asking you again next time - obviously - but it will mean they'll be off your back sooner rather than later. Maybe buy you some solitude until the next arrest." He tried to lighten the mood a bit. "And they have to run out of your dad's associates sometime, right?" Draco's look made Harry wonder just how many palms Lucius had greased over the years. "Eventually."
Draco crossed his legs and rested folded hands upon his lap. He said nothing, merely stared off into space, his mood unreadable.
"The last time I was here, I didn't get the chance to ask you what you remember."
"Everything," he replied.
Harry nodded. "No missing time, no gaps to fill?"
"Nope," he said. "But then Granger would have already told you that, wouldn't she?"
Harry shook his head. "She didn't tell me anything."
"You expect me to believe you just happened to show up at my house within a day of me regaining my memories?"
Ah. "Hermione told me to come see you, but she didn't say why. I had gone to see her, to find out how you were doing, and she told me to ask you myself."
"She said nothing about my case?"
"Nothing," Harry said. "In fact, she told me I'd have to bring a warrant if I wanted any information from her."
"Hmm. I think my respect for her just went up a notch."
"She gave you her word that she wouldn't discuss the case with me, and she kept it," Harry said. "Besides, she swore an oath, and she wouldn't break that just for me."
"That's refreshing, especially since you seem to be rewarded for breaking the rules at every turn." Harry made to argue, but Draco added, "Or at least you aren't punished like the rest of us mere mortals."
Harry chose to ignore his taunts. "Will you let me help you get to the bottom of what happened?"
Draco looked confused. "What do you mean?"
"I mean someone wiped your memory. Don't you want to know who did that and why?"
"I already know."
Anger boiled up inside Harry. "Hermione knew this, but didn't bring it forward? She should have told me if she knew something about a crime."
"There was no crime," Draco said.
"What?"
"I hired him to do it."
Harry stared at him, stunned. "Why?"
"I guess I'd reached a point in my life where it just wasn't worth it anymore. You know, carrying around all that baggage. I wanted a way out, and I had the money to do it."
"But--" Harry couldn't imagine willingly letting someone poke around in his mind. "What if you couldn't have retrieved your memories? What if it was permanent?"
Draco sat forward and smiled sadly. "That's what I paid for," he said. "I never wanted to remember."
"But surely you had some good memories? What about your mother?"
Draco cringed. "I was in a bad place. I didn't want to go on, and besides killing myself - something that would have been the ultimate insult to my mother - I didn't know what else to do."
You could have come to me, Harry thought, but then realised how ridiculous that was. They hadn't exchanged a civil word the entire time they'd known each other.
"Are you sorry you did it? Got your memory back, I mean?"
He shook his head. "No. I had no idea how vulnerable I would be." He clenched his fists. "I never want to feel that way again."
Harry smiled. "Good."
"I did keep a few memories," he said. "Left them at Gringotts. I suppose I figured, on the off chance I was found, I ought to have some link to my past. Some way to arm myself against whatever I'd have to face."
That made sense. It also explained why he'd left some funds there. A back-up plan.
"I'm sorry about everything," Harry said. He leaned forward, resting his elbows on his thighs, eyes fixed on the coffee table. "I never meant for any of this to ... well, for things to get so complicated." He looked up and caught Draco glancing in his direction, before he went back to staring at a point above the mantle. "I never meant to hurt you," he said.
Draco's head whipped around and he glared at Harry. Harry raised a hand. "And even if you weren't hurt, I'm sorry about everything." He took a breath and decided that wasn't right at all. He threw caution to the wind and decided to put it all out there. "Well, not everything, really, because I rather fancy you, and I'm not sorry to have discovered that. Even if nothing will ever come of it, I'm glad to have had the chance to know you without the complications of our past."
Draco's glare had lessened into more of a curious stare, and he tilted his head slightly, as if trying to figure out the oddity before him. But he still said nothing.
"You're not going to make this easy for me, are you?"
Draco smirked. "Never."
Relieved at finally breaking through, Harry trudged on. "I really did just want to see you the last time I came here. To see how you were doing."
"I know."
"You knew? Then why?"
Draco ran his hands through his perfect hair and sighed heavily. "Because what if I was wrong? What if you were still playing me?"
"I was never playing you."
Draco glared at him.
"Not after that first day."
Draco stood, body rigid, arms hanging stiffly by his sides. "And here we were, doing so well with the truth."
Harry reached for his arm and held him there. "I know I never told you who I was or what I'd originally come to Skye for, but ... besides that, everything I said was the truth."
"You expect me to believe that?"
Would Harry believe him if the tables were turned? "No, I expect you to tell me I'm a liar."
Draco's mouth twitched. "And then what?"
"And then I expect you'll tell me that you'll never believe me, unless I prove it."
"And what will you say to that?"
Harry stood up and took Draco's face in his hands. "Nothing." He brought his lips to Draco's, gently at first, then a bit more insistently when he didn't meet with resistance. He kissed one corner, then made his way to the other, promising with every press of his lips never to deceive Draco again.
Harry had never initiated a kiss between them. Until now. Perhaps that was part of the reason Draco hadn't believed him. Harry had wanted to kiss him, plenty of times, but not with the lies between them. But now there was nothing to stop him. And he never wanted to stop kissing Draco. Not ever.
Draco's arms gradually wrapped around Harry's back and he drew their bodies together. Harry first nibbled then trailed Draco's lips with his tongue. When Draco's lips parted with a whimper, Harry slipped his tongue inside the welcoming warmth of Draco's mouth and knew at once he was where he belonged. He could never willingly give this up. How he'd ever questioned his feelings for Draco he didn't know. Sure, he'd fallen for Thomas, but he'd known he was Draco all along.
But Draco had fallen for James, a voice reminded him. Reluctantly, Harry grasped Draco's shoulders and pulled away. "Draco, wait."
Draco's body went rigid and his eyes turned cold. "Change your mind, Potter?" he snapped. "Suddenly remember who you were with?"
"Yes," Harry whispered.
"Right." Draco shoved Harry away. "Get the fuck out of my house and never come back.
"No, wait, Draco. Let me explain."
"I get it, Potter. Really I do." He marched to the front door and flung it open. "You wanted to be sure that I knew exactly who had screwed me over. Just to be sure. To make my humiliation complete. Well, mission accomplished." He waved his arm towards the door. "Now get out."
"No!" Harry drew his wand and with a flourish the door flew from Draco's grip, banging shut. Draco opened his mouth and with another wave of Harry's wand he fell silent. He turned towards Harry, arms flailing wildly, and Harry raised his arm. "Don't make me tie you down."
Draco charged him.
"Have it your way," Harry said, and a moment later a fuming Draco was glaring at Harry, strapped to a chair with invisible bonds.
"I'm not enjoying this, I'll have you know." Draco glared some more and Harry stifled a chuckle. "Okay, maybe a little. But just give me a chance to explain." Draco's glare threatened to bore a hole through the centre of Harry's forehead. "I'll be quick. Then I'll let you go." Draco huffed and stomped his foot.
"Right. Well. Here's the thing. I've ... I'm not very good at this. Words, I mean. In fact, I'm pants at it." A grunt from Draco's direction brought his focus back. "Sorry." Draco rolled his eyes.
Harry began to pace. "Look, I like you. Really like you. I think that's rather obvious. But before, every time you kissed me, I had to pull back. I couldn't go any further, shouldn't have even kissed you in the first place, not when you had no idea who I was." Harry stopped pacing and looked down at the carpet, unable to face Draco. "Merlin, you had no idea who you were. It wouldn't have been right."
He chanced a glance at Draco then. He was still glaring, but the edge had worn off slightly. "At first you were understanding, but then each time it was harder for me to pull away, and you started to get annoyed with me. Still, though, you were great. And then I knew. I couldn't keep lying to you. That day the car nearly hit us, I had planned to tell you everything. But then ..."
Draco's glare had faded to a slightly annoyed stare by now. Harry took that as a good sign, so he carried on. "But now, well, now there are no lies between us, nothing to stop me from ... well." Draco's expression turned exasperated. "Except you."
Draco's face darkened once more. "But not the way you think," Harry was quick to add. "See, I knew who you were the whole time." Harry approached the chair and slid Draco's left sleeve up, running his finger gently over the Dark Mark. "It doesn't suit you," he said, looking into Draco's eyes. "When I fell for you, I knew exactly what that meant. But you didn't. You didn't fall for me. You fell for James." He tried not to sound like a wounded puppy, but he didn't think he succeeded.
Draco shook the chair in frustration, but Harry just waved his hand. "I know I told you that was me. And it was. It is. This is really who I am. But you didn't know that at the time, and --"
Draco's foot banged once more and his increased movements nearly lifted the chair off the floor. He was glaring again.
"Promise you won't attack me?" Harry asked. Draco shook his head. Harry chuckled. "Oh, right. Honesty." Draco shook the chair and Harry relented. "Okay, okay."
He waved his wand and the bonds holding Draco and the Silencing Charm lifted.
"Potter, you complete idiot!" Not exactly the words Harry was hoping for, but fair enough. "I know who you are now, don't I?"
"Er ..."
"And I've known for months."
"I suppose."
He stood up, fists clenched, arms by his side, barely restraining himself. "So, don't you think that it's possible that I've already come to terms with all this - who you are, who I am, and what that means?"
"But you said --"
"I was lying. Obviously." Harry's heart skipped a beat. Draco brushed off his clothes, as though the spell had left behind a film of dirt. "It wouldn't do to have you believe you got to me."
"No." Harry suppressed a grin. "That wouldn't do at all."
Draco walked towards Harry. "So."
"So," Harry said. He didn't resist when Draco pushed his hand down; instead, he holstered his wand and wrapped his arm around Draco's back.
Draco leaned in, his breath brushing Harry's ear. "Are you planning to keep pushing me away, Potter?" He took Harry's earlobe gently between his teeth, sending shivers down Harry's spine.
Harry shook his head a fraction, not wanting to dislodge that wonderful mouth. "No."
"Mm. That's good." He nibbled Harry's ear some more, then his tongue joined in and sent fresh shock waves directly to Harry's groin. "Because I don't know how much more of that I could take." He chose that moment to run his hands down Harry's back, grasp his arse, and grind their burgeoning erections together.
Harry ran his hands through Draco's hair and pulled him in for a bruising kiss. It was all tongues and teeth and passion and Harry never wanted it to end. He could lose himself in the taste, the feel of Draco.
Who was he kidding? He was already lost.
They rutted together like teenagers, and in a way that's how Harry felt with Draco. Out of control, completely caught up in the moment. Without so much as a touch of Draco's hand, Harry felt his orgasm building. "Oh, God." A few more thrusts and Harry tumbled over the edge, followed shortly afterwards by Draco.
"Well," Draco panted, "that would have been embarrassing if we hadn't both ..."
Harry captured his mouth in another kiss, not quite ready for this encounter to be over, despite the current state of his pants. Embarrassing to be sure. "Mm."
"Potter," Draco said. Harry ignored him and kept kissing him. "Harry."
Harry stopped. "Say that again."
"What?"
"My name."
"Potter."
Harry glared at him.
"Harry."
"I like it when you say my name."
Draco rolled his eyes. "You're such a girl."
Harry kissed him again, more forcefully this time, and ground their groins together, reminding him clearly that Harry was anything but a girl.
"Ew!" Draco grimaced as he pulled back. "Honestly, Potter. Can't you do something about this mess?"
Harry chuckled and waved his hand, wandlessly clearing it away. "Now who's the girl?"
"Show off."
"Oh!" Harry said. "I forgot. I have something for you."
He released Draco from his grasp, but not without giving him a parting kiss. He retrieved his bag from where he'd left it, just outside the doorway, and brought it inside. At Draco's questioning look, he shrugged. "I didn't know how you were going to react, so I thought it best not to bring it in with me."
With a smile, he handed Draco a rectangular box. Draco frowned, then seemed to register the possibility. "It's not ...?"
"Open it."
"It is," he said as he stared down at his old Hawthorn wand. He frowned when he looked up at Harry. "You had this the whole time?" he asked.
"Actually, the Ministry took it as evidence after the war," Harry explained. "I simply retrieved it before I came to see you that last time."
Draco removed it from the box and sparks flew out the end. "I thought they'd destroyed it." His face lit up as the magic coursed through him. Harry remembered that feeling well, the first time he'd held his own wand after repairing it. Like a long lost friend coming home. As he watched Draco's face become more animated with every spell he cast, objects circling the air around him, Harry grinned. No, it was more than that. It was like a part of him had been missing, like he'd only felt whole again when they'd been united once more.
Draco twirled the wand between his fingers and all the objects returned to their places on the shelves. He stalked towards Harry, a dangerous gleam in his eyes. "You left this outside, where anyone could pick it up?" he asked.
Harry raised his hands in surrender. "I concealed it and cast charms on it so no one could pick it up. No worries. I wouldn't have risked it falling into the wrong hands."
"And you left it outside because ...?"
"Well, I wasn't sure if ... well, in the interest of honesty, I wasn't sure that you wouldn't have used it against me, once you got hold of it."
"You should trust your instincts," Draco said. And before Harry knew what was happening, he saw his own wand fly out of its holster and into Draco's hand. Then he felt the cold tendrils of invisible bonds wrapping themselves around his arms and legs. Harry tried not to panic, tried to gauge what was going through Draco's mind.
"Draco?"
Draco grinned, his eyes twinkling and his wand twirling between his fingers. "Yes, Harry?"
"What are you doing?"
"Why, I thought that was rather obvious," he said, his voice teasing but dark. "One would think a big, strong Auror like yourself could figure it out."
Harry opened his mouth, but at once his voice was cut off and he felt himself lifted into the air and levitated down the hall. When he landed on the bed, the bindings pulled his arms and legs taut, the other ends presumably wrapped around the four posters of the bed.
Draco stood at the end of the bed, a feral grin on his face, the wand aimed menacingly at Harry.
Harry's mind flashed images before his eyes, each one successively worse. Something tickled the back of his mind. How was this even possible? That wand should still show its allegiance to me, shouldn't it? Maybe that allegiance only carried as far as preventing his death. Harry calmed his breathing and willed his heart to slow down. Not that he thought for a minute Draco would kill him. But still. He pulled on the bindings. Good to know he couldn't. Not with this wand anyway. Then again, he must have another one here somewhere.
He looked around for a way out of the situation when Draco climbed onto the bed, crawling up Harry's body. He smirked. "Turn and turn about. It's only fair, isn't it Potter?"
Harry's heart threatened to burst from his chest. Fuck it if this predatory Draco wasn't the hottest sight he'd ever seen.
Draco leaned down and whispered in Harry's ear, "I never promised not to attack you," he said, then trailed his tongue along the lobe, then the inside of Harry's ear. Harry's cock gave an appreciative twitch. Draco chuckled. "Now that I've got you here, Harry, whatever am I going to do with you?"
Harry moaned and relaxed into Draco's touch. Anything you want, he thought. Anything at all.
~ FIN ~