The Burden of Memory

Authors Note: Thanks to my brilliant beta Alexandra. This is one of the few stories I'm writing that isn't taking a nasty turn, (at least not soon) so I hope you are all enjoying it.

Chapter 11 Means to an End

“Do you think it’s wise to begin with something so traumatic?” Lara asked. She had insisted on being present while Harry and Draco went into the pensieve memories, not that she could have done anything if something went wrong.

“I think it’s wise to view the memories in the order Malfoy wishes to view them. If he wants to see how his friend dies, then so be it,” Harry repeated for what felt like the fifth time already.

“I just worry that it will be too much for him,” she replied.

“Why would it? He’s already lived it once, how traumatic could it be simply remembering something that had already happened to him?” Harry asked.

“Hey, I’m still here,” Draco interrupted; looking fairly angry that everyone was ignoring his input.

“I’m sorry,” they said in unison just as the fireplace flashed green, surprising them all.

Ron stepped out and paled when he noticed Draco sitting with Lara’s hand on his leg. “I heard you invited the ferret to stay!” he shouted. “How could you, Harry?”

Harry rolled his eyes. “I’m sure Hermione explained everything perfectly and I’m sure you’re also aware that your arguments on the fact won’t sway my decision.”

It wasn’t lost on Harry that Draco visibly relaxed as Harry said these words and he actually moved Lara’s hand from his knee.

Ron only huffed and crossed his arms in defiance.

“Lara, maybe you should take Ron to your flat and explain things and then maybe you could take him to lunch,” Harry offered, thinking that should keep them out of the way for a few hours at least.

Draco smiled slightly and surprisingly, Lara did to. “I think that’s a good idea,” she replied, getting up and grabbing Ron’s hand.

She pulled him swiftly from the room and Draco sighed in relief.

Harry shot him a perplexed look and Draco blushed. “I feel… weird now.”

“You’ll have to explain better than that if you want me to understand you, Malfoy,” Harry said with a laugh.

Draco rolled his eyes but nodded. “I like her, I really do… but part of me feels like maybe I just asked her to marry me because I was scared. She and Henry had been so nice to me, and I didn’t know who I was, and I didn’t recognize anyone.”

“And now?” Harry asked, prompting him for more information.

“Well, now I’m beginning to feel like I have a chance at finding out who I am and what happened to me. I have you…” he began and then looked startled. “And my parents,” he finished quickly.

Harry thought about that briefly. If there was anything he could do to get Draco to break things off with his cousin then Harry had to do it, no matter how potentially embarrassing it might be.

“I think I have a memory that I need to show you first then. It’s one of mine, and it won’t help you remember anything about yourself, but it might help you with your current dilemma,” Harry offered.

“Whatever you think,” Draco replied.

Harry took a deep breath and held his wand to his temple. He thought of the specific memories he wanted and pulled them gently from his mind and placed them in the pensieve. He offered his hand to Draco, who looked hesitant at first but finally took it. “When I count to three, stick your head into the liquid as if you wanted to look under its surface. You’ll feel a disorienting pull and then you’ll find yourself somewhere else altogether. No one else will be able to see or hear you, so don’t panic, okay?”

Draco nodded.

“One… two… three.” The boys simultaneously put their faces into the swirling silver liquid and it sucked them in quickly. Harry was fairly used to the sensation, since his sixth year lessons with Dumbledore, and he was ready when Draco lost his balance and nearly toppled over.

He caught the boy easily and smiled at Draco’s sickly expression. “It’ll pass,” he said and Draco nodded slowly, and after taking deep breaths some of his color returned.

The scene playing out in front of him seemed like another time. Two oafish looking people were moving about a small kitchen and a fat child came in whining about breakfast, not that he needed to eat, obviously.

Draco didn’t understand the relevance or even who these people were until the man went over and unlatched a small door under the staircase. A young Harry climbed out stiffly and set to work immediately preparing food.

“The ending won’t make sense without the back story,” Harry told him.

Draco only nodded, fascinated by this glimpse into the boy’s life, something he felt certain no one had ever really shared with him. Rage filled him at the thought of these lumbering people keeping Harry in cupboard, but he knew there was nothing for it. All these things already happened and Draco couldn’t change that. It made it more impressive that Harry was such a strong person, though.

The large man spent the entire time bellowing orders at Harry and demeaning him in front of the other two. He could see Harry’s shoulders stiffen, but the boy had no reaction other than that.

The scene shifted in front of his eyes and suddenly a tiny Harry Potter was wandering aimlessly through Kings Cross station looking up at the markers by the terminals. He stopped in between nine and ten and looked curiously back and forth between them. His face formed into a frown and he asked a nearby gentleman for help, but the man just got agitated and walked away. It was then that the younger Harry turned around listening intently to another conversation.

Draco saw a portly red-haired woman surrounded by loads of children. She greeted Harry and helped him onto the platform.

“I made friends with Ron on the train that day, as you recall,” Harry said, and Draco nodded. “It was the first time anyone had really been nice to me, aside from Hagrid of course,” he continued.

The name rang a bell with Draco and suddenly a giant man with a long shaggy brown beard filled his minds eye. “The gamekeeper,” Draco said with a triumphant grin.

Harry nodded and smiled as well. “He’s the one who took me away from the Dursley’s, those people you just saw. They were my real family, but the Weasley’s became more of a family to me than the Dursley’s ever had been.”

The scene faded away into Harry’s first visit to the Burrow. Everyone was friendly and accommodating and Harry was treated like a normal boy, just like one of the other children. Draco watched the real Harry’s face as the scene played out. It was alight with emotions of joy and a twinge of what he suspected was regret.

“You miss them, but why? You’re still friends with Ron, obviously…” Draco began.

“You’ll see,” Harry laughed bitterly.

The scene shifted a few more times, each depicting a time when Harry felt at home with the Weasley’s and then it suddenly focused in on the youngest girl Weasley. Harry was snogging her senseless in what could only be the Gryffindor common room.

Draco looked over at Harry, waiting for an explanation, but he only held up his hand to signal that Draco should wait.

It was suddenly a funeral, and though Draco recognized Hogwarts, he didn’t know whose funeral. There were dozens of people there, and Harry sat next to Ginny. He was breaking up with her, telling her he was about to leave and that he wouldn’t put her in danger.

“Even then I knew things would never work between us,” Harry whispered beside him, a thick tear streaming down his cheek. “I thought I loved her, but it was just the idea of her I was in love with,” he added bitterly.

Draco nodded, understanding now why Harry was showing him this. The scene shifted again and they were in a small flat. Ginny was sitting on the sofa sobbing and Harry was at the other end of the room, arms crossed in front of his chest defensively.

“I don’t know why you can’t just be normal,” she cried. “Everyone else is moving on, but no, not you. You still make yourself suffer.”

“I’m not making myself suffer, Gin,” he yelled. “I am suffering. I feel stuck here, don’t you understand?”

“You mean stuck with me, don’t you?” she growled. “Go on and say it, Harry. You don’t love me.”

Both Harrys took a deep breath simultaneously. “I don’t love you,” memory Harry said.

“So it’s true? You like men?” she whispered, clearly shaken.

Harry winced beside him and the memory Harry made a similar face. “Yes,” he replied, his tone as quiet as hers was. “I’m attracted to men. I wish it weren’t true, but it is.”

“If you wish it weren’t true, then prove it: stay with me. You’ll learn to love me, you used to…” she sobbed.

“I can’t use you that way, Gin. I should have stayed away from the beginning, let you live your life. I saw you as a way to get what I always wanted,” he said.

“And what’s that?” she spat.

“A family. Your parents were always so nice to me, your whole family accepted me when my own didn’t and-“ Harry began, but Ginny’s shrieking voice cut him off.

“You dated me to get closer to my family? You’re a sick fuck, Harry Potter. You go through this whole charade, dating me, proposing, and the day before our wedding I catch you making love eyes with Seamus Finnigan. All this pretense, just to get in better with the Weasley family?” she hollered.

“I wasn’t making love eyes at Seamus,” Harry laughed beside him, and Draco grinned. In spite of the tense situation unfolding before them, Harry was making jokes.

“Ginny, just listen to me. Don’t you understand how I was brought up? The Dursley’s-“ he began, but again she cut him off.

“Harry I loved you, and nothing the Dursley’s ever did gives you the excuse to treat me this way,” she cried. “We were supposed to get married, we were supposed to have kids and live happily ever after, but no, you’d rather fuck… Draco Malfoy than me,” she shouted in anger.

Both Harrys turned red. “I forgot she said that,” the Harry beside him whispered. “She was just reaching for names that would make me angry, not because we ever…”

Draco’s lips formed into a wide grin. “So you and I were never together?”

Harry’s eyes went wide. “Merlin, no. I mean, not that you aren’t attractive… I mean, to someone I’m sure, but not me… I mean…” Harry stammered until he finally gave up and just rubbed his temples between his fingers.

Draco chuckled and went back to watching the scene unfold. Ginny was packing a bag and Harry wasn’t trying to stop her, which looked like it pissed her off even more. “I don’t understand you, Harry.”

“I think that’s the problem,” memory Harry muttered.

She huffed and levitated her bag over to the fireplace and with a green ‘whoosh’ she was gone.

A moment later, Harry and Draco were being shoved roughly from the pensieve into Harry’s flat. Draco was less wobbly coming out but Harry still had to steady him.

“So you left her?” Draco asked.

“Well, she technically left me, but it amounts to the same thing,” Harry said with a casual wave.

“The night before your wedding?” he asked.

Harry winced. “I’ve always had an issue with bad timing.”

Draco nodded in understanding. “I can see that about you.”

Harry smiled and slugged him lightly in the shoulder, and Draco made a big show of it hurting far more than it ever could have.

“Thanks for showing me that,” he whispered at last. “I know it must have cost you something to show me such personal memories.”

Harry shrugged. “Whatever helps you,” he replied, and for the first time, he realized he meant it. He wanted to help Draco through this and he wanted him to be complete again. Whatever Harry could do to that end, he would.

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