The Burden of Memory

Authors Note: Thanks to my betas, Shannon and Alexandra who are awesome. I also had some extra feedback from Jayficlover who requested this fic in the start. Yay Team Awesome!

Chapter 13 Wrong, Right or Technicality

“Thanks for meeting with me, Harry,” Henry said quietly.

Harry looked around his uncle’s office with great interest. On every surface were pictures of his children and his late wife. Lara was by far the majority of the faces shining back at him through the glass frames. It was obvious, just with one glance in this room, how much the doctor adored his daughter.

“Of course, sir. I’m always just a minute away if you ever need anything,” Harry replied, and it was true. It took him less than a minute to walk to the same apparition point that Hermione had just been complaining about a couple days ago.

Henry smiled, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “I trust Mr. Malfoy is safe?” he asked.

“I left him with Hermione, and Ron is out with Lara,” Harry replied, knowing that the doctor was more concerned for the safety of his daughter and not so much for Draco.

The doctor nodded and relaxed slightly, leaning back in his chair just a tad. “I heard my daughter mention this friend of yours quite a few of times. He sounds like a decent young man”

Harry smiled widely. “I’ve known Ron since I was eleven. There is no one in the world I trust more than him and Hermione.”

“He seemed to be quite taken with Lara when I met him. Am I mistaken?” his uncle cut to the point, a small smile indicating he already knew that he wasn’t. “You think he is better suited for her than Mr. Malfoy?”

“I do, but not for the reasons you might think,” Harry started hesitantly. “I think I may have… overreacted… a little when I first saw him.”

Henry chuckled. “Really? You think so?”

Harry blushed slightly before continuing. “Don’t misunderstand me, the Malfoy I know isn’t by any means a nice guy. He’s just not as bad as I originally made it sound. Hermione’s worried though that there might be some sinister reason for his turning up here like this. So far we haven’t uncovered anything to prove or disprove her theory, but when it comes to Malfoy, nothing would surprise me at this point.”

His uncle seemed to be considering this and they both sat in silence for a few moments.

“How well do you know Draco’s father?” Henry asked suddenly.

Harry winced slightly. “Well enough.”

“You wouldn’t give him the same trust that you’ve extended to his son?” the doctor asked, looking more curious than Harry felt comfortable with.

“It’s a bit… complicated” he said at last with a sigh. “Where Draco may have had poor intentions, he often didn’t actually commit the crimes he was meant to, and those he did, he did to save his parents lives. Lucius on the other hand, was a true Death Eater, and did many horrible things that I’m aware of, and I’m sure even more that I’m not. No matter his apparent politeness the other evening, no sir, I do not trust him,”

“Politeness?” Henry replied sarcastically, a frown forming on his usually calm face.

Harry laughed darkly and nodded. “Believe me, sir. That was Lucius on his best behavior.”

“How did you find yourself mixed up with people like him, Harry?” he asked, still appearing distrustful.

“The Malfoy’s were the right hand of Voldemort, and Voldemort killed my parents and then sought a vendetta with me. It was rather unavoidable,” he replied with a shrug.

“And you still offer his son a place in your home? You still offer to help him?” Henry goaded, on the verge of getting angry.

“Sir, why did you ask me here? Is there something I have done?” Harry asked tentatively, not even sure he wanted the answer.

Henry let out a deep breath Harry hadn’t even realized he had been holding. “No, Harry. It’s just… Lara is still set on Draco, even after her days spent with Mr. Weasley. I’m getting worried.”

“What exactly is worrying you?” Harry asked.

“She’s no longer focusing on her career, which she used to. I don’t want her to get hurt,” the doctor explained. “I don’t trust his family, and I’m not even sure I trust him any longer.

“I’m sure she hasn’t told you this,” he continued, “but when her mother was killed, Lara was the one that took it the hardest. Kept to herself for the longest time. Vane and I did whatever we could to bring her out of that state, but she was never truly back to her previous self. Then Draco appeared and she looked so happy… I didn’t want to spoil it for her”

“I understand,” Harry nodded, grateful the man had chosen to confide in him with all this. “Well, I know why I don’t trust Lucius… but why don’t you trust him?” he wondered out loud. He was perfectly happy with the idea of Henry breaking up Lara and Draco, but he was curious at the man’s odd behavior.

“He seemed very familiar to me, Harry. I think…” his voice trailed off and he shook his head.

“Trust me, uncle. There is nothing you could say that would make me think ill of you. Even if you’re wrong, anything that has you this worked up is worth investigating right?” Harry asked.

“I think he might have had a hand in my wife’s death,” he said at last.

Harry sighed and nodded. “I had a sinking feeling that the attack on your home was more than just burglars. If it was Death Eaters, then no doubt Lucius could somehow be involved. I just don’t know how to prove it.”

Henry’s eyes widened. “So you knew? You knew it was a possibility and still you let them into Lara’s home?”

Harry shook his head, his mind filled with panic. “No, I didn’t have any real suspicions until I spoke with Vane afterward. I wouldn’t have put Lara in danger like that, I promise you.”

Henry took a calming breath and nodded. “Why would someone like this Voldemort, want to kill my wife?”

“I can’t even begin to speculate, but from the sounds of things they weren’t just after your wife,” Harry replied.

“That’s true. Lara was pretty badly hurt, but I was only knocked unconscious,” he added.

Harry groaned. “With your permission I can have Hermione research it. She can check several Ministry departments for information.”

“Please, have her look into it. In the meantime, can you please try to keep Lara and Draco apart?” he asked tentatively.

Harry laughed. “Already on it, sir. They haven’t been alone once. Speaking of, unless there is something else, I should probably get back.”

“No, Harry, you have been of more help than I have a right to ask. I’m genuinely happy to have found you,” he said with a smile.

Harry winced. “Don’t say that just yet.” The doctor shot him a puzzled expression and Harry continued. “Sir, what if you were attacked because of me?”

“Harry that’s nonsense. We only just met you,” Henry replied with a laugh.

“But what if… what if Voldemort knew of our connection before we did? I would hate to think that more people, people I didn’t even know at the time, were killed because of me,” Harry sighed. It took him a lot to push past the guilt he felt whenever he thought about the war. He wasn’t sure if he could take another tombstone looming over his conscience.

The doctor got up and placed a gentle hand on Harry’s shoulder. “Harry, even if that was the case, it was still no fault of yours. You can’t change your blood.”

Harry shrugged, not ready to accept that comfort just yet. “I appreciate the sentiment, but let’s just wait until we know something. You might feel different then.”

“I won’t, Harry. You’re a good man. Nothing this research provides will say any different,” Henry said. “Now. Go and protect my daughter,” he added with a laugh.

Harry nodded and left the doctor’s office quickly, avoiding the nurses who had crushes on him and walking briskly back to the apparition point.

--

A violent crash from the general vicinity of his flat made Harry run double time up the stairs, bursting into his flat. A quick survey revealed a toppled over bookcase as the source of the noise and a flailing Draco underneath of it.

“What the hell happened up here?” Harry asked, rushing to Draco’s side and levitating the bookcase from his frail looking body.

“There was a man… a wizard. He was here and shot a spell at me. I ducked and it hit the shelf instead, sending it careening at me,” he panted.

Harry was on full alert, searching the flat for anything off, something that might lead him to a suspect, but he found nothing out of place, and no one was still there.

“What did he look like?” Harry asked as he made his way back to where Draco was still laying limply on the floor.

“Dark hair; though not as dark as yours. He was tall and very thin. He had a jagged scar on his wand hand, and his robes were black. He wore a mask though, so I couldn’t see his face,” Draco added.

“Perfect,” Harry hissed. “I’m finally free of the Ministry and now I have to move because of Death Eaters.”

“Where are we moving?” Draco asked, still unmoving on the floor.

“We aren’t moving anywhere. In fact, you should probably be going back to the manor,” Harry huffed, recalling his conversation with his uncle. It would be best all around if Draco weren’t staying with Harry. Then Lara couldn’t talk to him, Henry didn’t have to worry about him and Harry didn’t have to think about him naked.

“What?” Draco exclaimed. “But you promised to help me with my memory,” he added, trying to get up only to cry out in pain.

Harry was beside him the next instant, his whole mind riddled with concern. “Are you okay?”

“I think I’m broken,” Draco groaned.

Harry rolled his eyes, but the concern never left them. “What specifically do you think is broken?”

“I don’t know. I hurt all over,” he whined.

Harry gently lifted Draco’s shirt revealing the faint outlines of bruises that would get worse, fast. They were already starting to color in on Draco’s pale skin and they were only minutes old.

Harry levitated Draco back to his bedroom and placed him gently on the bed. “Can you move enough to get undressed?”

Draco’s eyes went wide. “Potter, this isn’t the time for-“

Harry laughed and held up a hand. “I just need to check over your wounds.”

“Right. Sorry,” Draco replied, looking suitably chagrinned. “I don’t think I can move that much though.”

Harry took a deep breath and tried to concentrate as a healer would, as opposed to acting like someone who found Malfoy a delicious morsel to lick all over. Shaking the thoughts away, he pulled Malfoy’s shirt carefully from his body, and unbuttoned his trousers, sliding them from his pale legs.

His entire body was riddled with bruises from having the bookcase fall onto him. Harry placed his fingers gently over a particularly nasty bruise on his hip. “Does this hurt?”

Draco winced. “No,” he hissed.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Liar.”

“Look, isn’t it bad enough that I have to lay here half naked, do I also have to admit my injuries to you too?” he asked. “Maybe you should just take me to Doctor Evans,” he suggested.

“Why would it be any different telling me where it hurts?” Harry asked impatiently. He knew Henry would be hesitant to see Draco again, let alone treat him.

“Trust me, it’s different,” he groaned.

“But why? I can heal you faster than he can. How would it be better to go and see him?” Harry asked, not understanding what little Draco gave in the way of reasoning at all.

Draco sighed and closed his eyes. “Harry,” he began, and Harry drew a sharp intake of breath at the name. “Do you like for people with whom you are attracted to see you so weak and vulnerable?”

“Well, no, but… oh. Really?” Harry stammered, not quite believing his own ears.

“I thought we’ve been over this?” Draco asked with an amused smile.

“You mentioned several days ago that you might have thought about it. I hardly took that to mean that you were actually attracted to me. And you haven’t said a word since. I assumed you were just confused,” Harry said with a shrug.

Draco laughed and winced for the movement. “I am… very confused. I try to think about my fiancée, but thoughts keep drifting back to you,” he whispered.

Harry blinked rapidly. “What… what is it you’re saying exactly?” Harry asked, his voice deep and breathy.

Draco rolled his eyes and smiled. “I’m saying that maybe you should kiss me.”

Harry’s lips were on his a second later, pressing them both into the mattress. Draco’s mouth was firm and yielding beneath his own, he tasted like warm sunshine, and just touching him made him feel like he was flying. The only other boy he had ever kissed was a muggle he met in a bar shortly after he broke up with Ginny. This was nothing like that was.

This was intimate.

Draco’s tongue flicked into his mouth and a deep moan vibrated between them. Harry didn’t even know who originated the sound, but it didn’t matter. His mind was spinning with hundreds of reasons he shouldn’t be doing this, but none of it was enough to make him stop.

The latch on his apartment door alerted them to someone arriving and Harry cursed under his breath. “I really need to start locking that door,” he groaned, pulling away from a surprised looking Draco. His lips were red and slightly swollen and Harry longed to kiss them again.

“Oh, my,” Lara exclaimed from the doorway. “What happened?”

She rushed to Draco’s side, running delicate fingers over the bruised flesh.

“Someone attacked him while I was with your father earlier today,” Harry said. “I was just about to start casting some healing charms.”

“I should take him to father,” she said quickly, but Harry shook his head.

“I’ve already been over this with Draco. I’m healing him with magic, it will be much faster, and he’ll probably even be healed by nightfall. The sooner he’s healed the sooner we can track down who did this,” Harry huffed.

She took a deep breath and nodded. “You’re right. I’m sorry. I was just stopping by before my shift to see if you needed anything,” she added, turning her attention onto Draco.

“I’m fine,” he replied. “Harry will take good care of me,” he added, and couldn’t seem to keep the blush from reddening his cheeks.

“I know he will,” she said, turning and beaming at Harry. She leaned in and pecked him on the cheek. “He’s the best long lost relative a girl could ever ask for,” she teased and ruffled his hair on her way out.

Draco waited until he heard the click of the door and smiled up at Harry. “Where were we?” he asked.

Harry sighed and backed away, beginning his healing charms. “Seriously?” he groaned. “If feel like such an arse. She thinks she’s marrying you, you know? It’s not right.”

Sighing from both frustration and relief of his wounds, Draco let himself sink deeper into the bed. “You’re right, as usual. I’ll just tell her when she gets back in tonight.”

Harry shook his head. “We can’t. She would be so heartbroken. Did you hear what she just said? I can’t just ignore her expectations.”

“So what, I could break it off with Lara and you still wouldn’t be with me?” Draco asked incredulously.

“I can’t hurt her like that. And let’s not forget that you have no memories, when you finally get them all back you’ll most likely discover your abhorrent hatred of me as well as the fact that you’re straight!” Harry replied, trying to stay calm, but not really succeeding.

“How can you say that? If you can change your feelings about me, then why can’t I do the same?” Draco asked.

Harry finished his healing spells and leaned against the bed, happy to note that most of the discoloration was already gone. “We tried to kill each other once. Well, I wasn’t trying to kill you, but I almost did anyhow. But you… you really wanted nothing more then to see me writhe in pain,” Harry whispered.

Draco blinked and nodded. “I remember. Sixth year, right?” he whispered, shaking his head. “Merlin, that mindset seems so far away now, like someone else’s.”

“That’s probably only because you can’t recall everything else. But once you do, once you remember all the reasons you hate me… what’s going to keep you from slipping back into it?” Harry asked.

Draco shrugged. “Nothing I guess… unless you give me a reason to have different feelings for you.”

Harry chuckled. “You think it’s that simple? You think memories you make with me over a few weeks will cancel out memories you’ve had of me for seven years?”

“You have, haven’t you? And you remember everything,” Draco replied.

Harry sighed and crawled into bed beside Draco. “I haven’t gotten over everything, and some of my excuses sound weak even in my own mind,” he whispered.

Draco twined his fingers through Harry’s and frowned. “Like what for example?”

“Like your entire sixth year for instance,” Harry chuckled. “I didn’t really see you after the night that you almost killed the Headmaster. Not until the day we were captured and brought to the manor.”

“Maybe that was the time I decided I was gay?” Draco teased.

Harry rolled his eyes. “Right.” He looked over at Draco and ran a tender hand across his cheek, pushing back a tendril of pale blonde hair as he did. “I think that it’s more likely, you’re just afraid I won’t keep helping you unless I feel some sort of deeper attachment.”

Draco didn’t say a word to contradict it, so Harry nodded and smiled. “I won’t go anywhere. I promised to help you, and I will.”

“A little while ago you were ready to send me home,” Draco pointed out.

Harry grimaced. “Sorry about that. I was a little angry. I promise not to threaten that again, though. You’ll be welcome here as long and you want to stay, and I’ll keep helping you until your head is full to bursting with memories.”

“Okay, fine,” Draco agreed and cuddled up beside Harry, wrapping an arm around the other boy’s torso. “But that’s not the reason I kissed you,” he added quietly.

“Technically I kissed you,” Harry chuckled.

“Still, it was my idea,” he said, rolling his eyes despite them being closed. “I like you, Harry.”

“I like you too, Draco,” Harry whispered back. He hadn’t realized how easy it was to call him that until just then, how smoothly and freely it fell from his lips. He also hadn’t realized how much he liked Draco calling him by his given name until that moment. Surrounded with words of endearment, he could almost pretend it was someone altogether different than he had gone to school with.

He could let himself imagine that it was someone who wasn’t stricken with memory loss, and wasn’t engaged to his cousin, and didn’t have a vendetta against him several years in the making. And this person just happened to share his home, his bed and maybe even his heart.

Even though his mind screamed at the wrongness of it, Harry pulled the covers over them and drifted to sleep, curled around this beautiful stranger, who just happened to be called Draco Malfoy.

Authors Note: heeehee. Cute fluffiness. Please review and you'll get...er... a gold star