Never A Memory

~How You Remind Me~

Part I



"Never made it as a wise man...

...Couldn't cut it as a poor man stealin'...

...Tired of living like a blind man...

...Sick of silence without a sense of feeling...

...And this is how you remind me...

...This is how you remind me..." ~Nickleback



The next morning...

~*~



"Has he eaten?" Draco asked Slightly, sipping thoughtfully on a cup of tea.



Slightly shifted nervously and Draco shifted his overbearing gaze to rest directly on her. "Well?"



"Slightly wanted to make sure Master had some breakfast," Slightly squeaked, wringing her hands.



"You have yet to offer him breakfast?"



"Master, Slightly thought--"



Draco cut her off with a flick of his wrist. "I should flog you, Slightly," Draco said quietly, his heart not really in the words he was choosing. "Potter is the Master of this house and we are but guests. Do you understand?"



"Slightly understands, sir," Slightly murmured, hanging her head, her large pointed ears drooping.



"You will offer him meals first, is that clear?"



"But sir--"



"Slightly!"



"Slightly understands, sir," Slightly said, her large luminous eyes filling with tears. "Slightly will do what Master commands. Slightly is sorry for vexing Master."



Draco looked back at his tea. "That'll do, Slightly."



"Slightly thanks Master," Slightly whispered before disappearing with a pop and leaving behind a trail of dusty magic.



Minutes later, Slightly returned, once again looking like she was on the verge of tears.



Draco, who had not moved, finished his tea before turning to the worried house elf. "What is it, Slightly?"



"Slightly asks Harry Potter if he would like breakfast like Master said," Slightly squeaked shrilly. "But Harry Potter does not want breakfast from Slightly! Harry Potter tells Slightly he is not hungry, sir!"



Draco heaved a sigh. "Slightly, bring a fruit bowl and some biscuits to wherever he is--"



"The study, sir."



"Thank you; and a pot of tea," Draco finished, throwing on his robes. "I'll be in there shortly."



"Yes, sir." With a pop, Slightly disappeared, eager to do her Master's bidding.



Tiredly, Draco made his way down the hall towards the study. He had not slept more than few hours combined and when he did sleep; his dreams were filled with strange images he did not recognize. So troubled by his sleep and agitated by his wakeful thoughts, rest seemed a foreign thing to the Malfoy heir.



He suspected that the little incident the night before had been a bit brash on his part and alienated Harry even more. This, of course, was what he had been trying to avoid. He wanted...well, Draco wasn't sure he knew what he wanted but he did know he didn't want this; the ever present, oppressive and heavy tension. It was sticky and unnatural, but the strangeness of it all was, regardless of how angry or upset Draco made Harry, if they were in the same room, his scar did not hurt at all. The tension he felt in his lungs, making it hard to breathe, while his scar seemed to be satisfied with it.



Draco had no clue why he kissed Harry bloody Potter. Harry was right; Draco could have explained his point perfectly well without kissing him.



But he wanted to. And so he did.



A part, Draco thought, was that homosexuality was fiercely frowned upon in pureblood Wizarding circles, specifically because there was still no magic that would allow same sex partners to reproduce solely of themselves and adding a third party put the baby at too much risk to be a half-blood. Of course, it was not uncommon for married aristocrats to take lovers, no matter their gender, and a blind eye was turned to it as happened often when purebloods decided to indulge their senses. However, as a primary relationship, homosexuality was considered as disgraceful as being a Muggle-loving Blood-Traitor.



This was exactly why Draco leaned towards it.



If there was anything that pleased Draco more than having a row with Harry Potter, it was finding a new way to piss off the pureblood circles who had tried to mold him into a hateful little copy of his father, Lucius Malfoy.



Technically, since Pansy Parkinson, Draco had not been romantically involved with anyone...ever. And, perhaps, Pansy didn't even count because while Draco held a large amount of affection for her, their relationship and engagement had been arranged at their infancy. Pansy had never had a problem with accepting things as they were and threw her whole heart into their engagement, but Draco, being what he was, managed to shred her heart into pieces before he even left Hogwarts by being increasingly shallow and cold towards her.



Draco wasn't sure what it felt like to be emotionally attached to someone, unclear if he had felt that way about anyone in his life, the way Pansy had felt for him. And while Draco was an adventurous flirt, he never made emotions and sex a priority in his life, contrary to outside suspicion.



Harry, on the other hand, was the embodiment of everything forbidden to him. It was a lovely little cherry on top that Harry was assigned to protect him and had to remain in the house with him for another week and a half or so. And, really, there was nothing else to do but torment The Boy Who Always Fucking Lives.



What shook Draco, however, was that Harry Potter actually kissed him back. He hadn't expected that. Draco had fully expected to be thrown off and hexed until his insides turned blue. But Harry had not only kissed him back, but he had taken over the kiss completely until Draco bit him.



What that meant almost frightened him. Not because it would throw Draco flirting with The Boy Who Lived into a completely different ball park, but because Draco knew that no one scares Harry Potter like Harry Potter scares himself.



And what could Harry possibly be telling himself for kissing Draco Malfoy, of all people on this planet, when just the mere sight of one another had been enough to turn each other's stomach, once upon a time?



Draco paused outside the study and took a deep breath.



~*~



"No, really, I'm not hungry," Harry tried to tell Slightly as she stood atop his paperwork, trying to hand him a large bowl of fruit.



"But Master insisted Slightly bring you breakfast!" Slightly squeaked as frustrated tears ran down her face.



"Yes, that's very...kind of him," Harry said, stumbling over the word in reference to Malfoy. "And, really, thank you, but...no."



"But Master insisted!" Slightly squeaked, stomping her foot and shoving the bowl back into Harry's face.



"Slightly, that's quite enough," Draco said, leaning on the door frame with a bemused expression on his face. "Just leave it on the table."



Slightly immediately scrambled to comply and Harry turned to look at Draco. Something awful passed behind Harry's beryl eyes but it vanished before Draco could name it.



"Good morning," Harry said, his voice flat and emotionless.



"Is it?" Draco said with a sarcastic smile.



Harry shrugged and looked back at his paperwork, resting the tips of his fingers flat against one particular scroll. "I'm filing a transfer today."



"What?" Draco snapped, his eyes suddenly going wide and his casual demeanor slipping. "Why?"



Harry swallowed and refused to look up. "Last night, I acted unprofessionally. There are well-equipped Aurors who can handle your case better than I."



"You must be joking," Draco said, incredulous. "You’re going to run away? I thought heroes never ran away."



"I'm no hero," Harry answered, his voice quiet. "I can survive against incredible odds, but that doesn't make me a hero. You need someone who will handle your case responsibly."



"I'm not interested in having my case transferred, you coward," Draco hissed, suddenly angry. "It shouldn't matter what goes on here, Potter. It's only you and I."



"What do you want from me?"



"Really?"



"Yes, really."



"I want you to stop holding me in the past."



Harry finally looked up at Draco, the vulnerability in his green eyes almost too much for Draco to bear.



"When you stop holding me in the past," Draco continued, "things like last night won't seem so terrible. You and I both know this has nothing to do with me being your 'case'."



"I can't--"



“You can’t, what?” Draco interrupted, clenching his fists. “Snog your old school rival? Get too close? Have a little goddamn fun? Let yourself believe I may not be as terrible as you once thought? What, Potter? I really want to understand this one, mate, because, frankly, I’m not the only enigma here!”



Harry pressed his lips into a thin line and did not answer. He watched Draco fume silently; his gray eyes blazing, his casual grace rigid and uninhibited, and he wanted to shout. Shout what, Harry didn’t know. It’s been days since he brought Draco here but not that many. Under a week, and he had managed to create yet another mess with Draco.



Briefly, Harry thought of Cruent and a vortex of buried emotion began to spin beneath the surface. With Cruent, Harry knew he wasn’t understood. In all honesty, Cruent was just a regular fuck; it was just unfortunate that Cruent brought his feelings into the mix.



People looked at Harry and they saw this…this icon. Harry Potter, The Boy Who Lived, even without the lightening bolt scar, Harry had to hide beneath piles of paperwork and odd jobs as an Auror to be able to keep his life relatively quiet. Harry had become resigned to the fact that when people looked at him, they would always stare, they would always assume, and they would never, ever see him as the person behind the celebrity.



The mad thing was, Draco Malfoy NEVER did that. Not once in the entire time he’d known Draco had he ever treated him like glass or stared at him in awe. In fact, Draco had made it a priority to remind him—and everyone within earshot—that Harry Potter was just a scared, lonely boy underneath the fame of a lightening bolt scar. Once, Harry had hated him for this; now, he was second guessing himself.



It was too much to take in and the night before certainly didn’t help.



Trick was, Harry couldn’t stop thinking about it. And that definitely made doing his job less than simple.



But, really, when was anything simple when it concerned Draco Malfoy? The more Harry tried to figure him out, the more confused he became.



Suddenly, Draco surged forward and violently shoved the bowl of fruit off the table. Immediately, Harry was on his feet, hands clenched at his sides, determined not to be sucker punched into another snog session with the Malfoy heir. Slightly stumbled around their feet, trying to get the mess cleaned up as quickly as possible so she could make a hasty retreat.



“Slightly,” Draco growled. “Leave it.”



Slightly immediately dropped the bits of pineapple she had gathered and disappeared with a loud pop.



“What’s the matter, Malfoy?” Harry murmured. “Don’t like being ignored?”



“Of course not,” Draco bit out. “That’s not so unnatural, is it? Though, I must say, it’s not nearly as bad as being abandoned. You must know all about that, wouldn’t you, Potter?”



“Shut up, Malfoy.”



“First your parents—“



“Malfoy, you have no right—“



“And then Cho and Sirius—“



“I’m warning you—“



“And of course, Dumbledore, who knew the exact hour of his death but never bothered to let you in on the little secret.”



“Stop—“



“And whatever happened to Ginevra Wea—“



Harry’s fist plowed into Draco’s face so hard, he was knocked to the ground. Staring up at Harry from the floor, Draco wiped the blood from his mouth and smiled. “Yes, you know all about being abandoned, don’t you?”



“This is why I can’t do your case anymore, Malfoy!” Harry all but shouted. “Look at us! It’s like Hogwarts all over again!”



Draco slowly got his feet, tenderly probing the gash on the inner side of his lip with his tongue. “Yes, it is. Your problem is that you’re liking it too much.”



Harry clutched at his hair. “Malfoy—“



“Admit it, Potter,” Draco sneered. “For some reason or another, you wanted to be here because you knew it would spice up the otherwise dull life you’ve created for yourself. That you knew I wouldn’t treat you like you were made of glass.”



“Malfoy—“



“And you are STILL denying the Slytherin in you!” Draco clasped his hands in front of him and batted his lashes. “Oh, please, Sorting Hat,” Draco mocked, “not Slytherin. Oh, please not Slytherin!”



“Well, it did wonders for you, didn’t it?” Harry shot back.



Draco snorted. “Right.”



“Really,” Harry said, the cruelty at his core bubbling up. “You got yourself landed in a House that celebrated a false purity, you surrounded yourself with people who claimed to be your friends but weren’t, you managed to get the Dark Mark slapped on your arm—“



“Potter,” Draco warned.



“AND you managed to get your mother killed, cause the murder of Albus Dumbledore, get exiled, and get YOURSELF cursed into the next life on some fool’s mission to try to be like me!” Harry finished with a shout, his voice suddenly raw.



Draco’s eyes went emotionless and he reached for his wand. Before he could have out with it, Harry had the tip of his pressed against Draco’s throat.



“Go ahead,” Harry said quietly. “Give me a reason to hex you. I really could do without the aggravation.”



Draco hung his hands limply by his sides. “I guess that’s it then,” Draco murmured. “Harry Potter, mad with envy because Draco Malfoy got to kill Voldemort. I wonder how that would look in the Daily Prophet?”



Harry drew his brows together in a severe frown. “I didn’t mean—“



“But it’s the truth, isn’t it?” Malfoy whispered. “Just like, for the briefest of moments, when the Dark Lord marked me, I felt powerful. I, Draco Malfoy, was the youngest Death Eater of my age. I was almost proud to have been so trusted with the assassination of the mighty Albus Dumbledore. It means we’re human, you and I.”



“Voldemort’s death was owed me,” Harry suddenly hissed.



A manic glint suddenly exploded behind Draco’s gray eyes. “And he’s dead!” Draco shrieked. “Isn’t he! And instead of being grateful to me for saving your arse, you want to send me off to some other Auror like a pair of used trainers! You owe me a life debt, Potter! A life debt!”



Harry nodded and looked away. Slowly, Harry lowered his wand and set it aside. “I’m sorry, Malfoy; but I can’t let this continue.”



Draco tiredly ran a hand through his hair, suddenly looking spent and vulnerable. “Fine; I’ll just…you know…” Draco turned and left the study.



Harry bit his lip, his heart screaming to go after him and say…something, and his mind sternly telling him to leave it be. After all, it was just Malfoy. Right?



Harry clenched and unclenched his fingers before suddenly springing into action. Walking quickly, Harry stepped out into the hall and stopped short when he saw Draco leaning heavily against one wall, his shoulders quivering and his back facing Harry.



Harry reached out a hand. “Malfoy?”



“Don’t,” Draco bit out, his voice cracking.



Harry touched Draco’s sleeve and Draco shoved him off. “Potter, really, don’t you think we’ve said enough?” Draco whispered and when he looked up, Harry saw the most unnatural thing in this world.



Silent tears streamed down Draco’s pale face and he looked so wretched Harry’s heart felt like it was going to shatter.



“I’m sorry,” Draco continued and his voice sounded like it was holding back a torrent of emotion. “For Dumbledore. Really, I am.”



“For fixing the closet in the Room of Requirement?”



Draco laughed through his quiet tears and the despair that reflected in them. “No…that he had to die at all.”



Harry tried to step forward, hand stretching forward, but Draco pushed himself off the wall and backed away. “I managed to destroy the one man who would have been powerful enough to save my mother.”



Harry had not actually thought of it like that, and the revelation that this was how Draco felt came crashing down around him.



“I could have used the Time-Turner,” Draco continued softly, the tears falling faster and his voice becoming strained. “But Dumbledore said there was a price to be paid. There’s always a price for a lesson learned. I never asked him to save my mother; and he may have, if I had. But I didn’t.”



Draco smiled his cruel smile. “I understood. A price had to be paid. Narcissa Malfoy, a martyr to my soul. And me,” Draco raised his dull eyes to Harry’s. “To yours.”



Harry shook his head slightly. “I don’t understand.”



“Dumbledore explained the horcruxes to me and I unraveled the riddle concerning you. I knew a price had to be paid for the demise of Voldemort. I couldn’t let it be you.”



“Why?” Harry breathed. “Merlin save me, why?”



“Because you’re right,” Draco said with a little half-smile. “No one would have missed me.”



“I didn’t mean…”



“Don’t lie to me,” Draco admonished softly. “Yes, you did. And everyone would have missed you. You were brave and true and victimized…it was better this way.” Draco suddenly buried his face in his hands. “I’m not supposed to be alive, Potter. Do you understand? I’m not supposed to be here! What the hell am I supposed to do or think? You tell me, Potter, what I am supposed to feel!”



Harry felt lost. “I don’t know, Malfoy; I just—“



“Don’t,” Draco said again. “Just…don’t. Do us a favor, will you, Potter?” Draco murmured, backing further down the hall.



Harry raised his chin, his eyes trying to see him through the shadows.



“Disappear,” Draco said as he vanished among the darkness of the hall.



You are a right prick, Harry told himself, wondering if it was possible to feel any more wretched.



~*~



a/n: It's late and I've been working on this damn thing all day, minutes at a time. Please forgive any grammatical errors or strange spelling of things. I'll fix it all on the morrow. :-P



Jan (Part One): Ha ha, Ron and Harry are not only partners, but they've been best mates for years. All best friends have a good hearty row once in a while. Good news is, their quick to make up. :-P



Jan (Part Two): lol, thank you! The smutness is starting. :-P Thanx for your review(s)!



Addy: Why, thank you! Guess you'll just have to wait and see, eh? Hope you liked the chapter!



Anon: ha ha, yeah, that part was fun to write. Thank you for your review! Hope you liked the update. Oh, and I absolutely luuuurv TS Eliot!



(*blinks* whew I'm tired)



Zypher: Did you? Ah, well. Maybe I just wasn't paying attention, lol. Thank you! Erm...in my stories, they're all gay, babe. :-P Hope you enjoyed the update.



Thrnbrooke: Thank you! Hope you liked the update!



Wizli: *laughs* Hope you enjoyed this one too; loaded with all sorts...of stuff. It's leading up to some pretty heady material, so reign in, lol. Oh, yeah. Kinky, says you? Just gettin' started, says I. Thanx for your review!



Kittycat30: Thank you!



Smokey: Thank you!



Snakevamp: Yeah, man. As this chapter touches on, there's a ton of grief and survivor's guilt that they're both dealing with. Tons of crap to work through. Good on you for look past the smut! Thank you for the review!



Bena24: Thank you!



Graballz: Lol, thank you! Oh, and I reviewed your fic! It was really good. I loved how it was all dialogue and then all those wonderful afternotes on the play. Good stuff, man. Thanx for referring me!



Dark_Samira: Thank you for your review! I hope the beginning of this chapter cleared up a lot for you. I think you were on the right track and, really, it can be interpreted so many different ways, and no one answer would be incorrect. It could be symbolic of Draco's rebellion, it could be purely a way of Draco making his point about purebloods not really being pure at all (which isn't entirely true; just true for him) , or he could be making up reasons for kissing Harry because he doesn't want to admit to himself that it was JUST because he wanted to. And, I believe there could be more intrepations, as well. None of which would harm the plot, flow, or overall story. :-P



No pity required, babe. Feel free to ask any questions anytime!



a/n: The How You Remind Me Part II is headed to a place that's a teensy bit dark. If the bloodplay in the last chapter made you squeamish or uncomfortable, you may want to wait for the chapter after the next, m'kay!



You guys rock! Thanx for reading! I'm going to bed.