The Burden of Memory

Authors Note: I know I made everyone angry with the last chapter, and yes I really wish I could have seen all your faces when I introduced Vane instead of Draco and then when I let the meeting of Draco happen in only the last seconds of the chapter. I did give you all exactly what you asked for though. lol. Have I mentioned I looooove a cliffhanger? Hopefully this will be more fulfilling for you all. ;) Thanks again to Alexandra who suggested an extra bit I put into Harry's ranting.

Chapter 6 Friend or Foe?

“Harry? Snap out of it,” someone was yelling in his ear. He couldn’t tell who, though. His attention was one hundred percent focused on the man who had just walked through his cousin’s door. The person that his newly acquired family had been fawning over for weeks, the man who had the audacity to ask for Lara’s hand in marriage, the man who had carefully eluded meeting Harry until this very moment, for Merlin only knew what twisted reasons.

“Malfoy,” he spat. “What the hell are you doing here?”

The man’s smile faltered and he looked around the room. Finally it seemed to dawn on him that Harry was onto his game, but he played dumb. “Me? Do you know me?” he asked.

“You know him, Harry?” Lara asked with a mixture of excitement and concern for Harry’s look of obvious distaste.

“Oh I know him alright,” Harry sneered. “He’s a Death Eater.”

There were gasps and several mumbled responses to the revelation, for all in the room could understand the implications of Harry’s accusation.

Suddenly the animosity for his childhood rival, the feelings that he had let dissipate after the war, all resurfaced with blinding speed. He leapt for Malfoy’s arm, pulling up the sleeve to show the now faded tattoo on his arm. “This is the dark mark,” Harry spat. “Do you still plan to marry a murderer dear cousin?” he fumed.

Lara’s eyes were wide. “You… you’re certain?” she asked.

Harry nodded curtly. “This is Draco Malfoy, his father was Voldemort’s right hand man, his Aunt killed my godfather and tortured my best friend, he nearly killed our headmaster as well as another student and Ron in our sixth year, not to mention he’s been a right pain in my arse since I turned eleven. He’s evil incarnate and he’s probably faking this amnesia bit,” Harry added with an indignant huff.

He heard the soft voice in the back of his mind chastise him for leaving off important bits about Draco never having actually killed Dumbledore and that the headmaster was willing to provide the boy protection even then. He also failed to acknowledge that Draco protected him at Malfoy manor, his mother saved his life during the war and the fact that if it weren’t for Draco and his wand, Harry would have lost to Voldemort in the end.

No one was speaking; they were all looking from Harry to Draco and back again, waiting for Draco to dispute the charges.

He didn’t.

“It sounds as though this man knows me, but I assure you I don’t recall him. Did you say my name is Draco?” he asked, his voice casual and undisturbed.

Harry groaned. Even as a fake muggle amnesia patient Malfoy was insufferable. “Yes,” he bit out. “Did you ignore the bit where I told you that you were evil?”

Draco shook his head. “No, I didn’t ignore you, I just don’t understand. I haven’t the foggiest who any of those people are that you named off, and I don’t remember any of the acts of violence you claimed I performed.”

“Claimed?” Harry shouted, leaping for Draco’s throat.

It was too much. He had put his past with Malfoy behind him. Harry saved his life during the war and Narcissa saved his. He felt in a way that they were even, but it didn’t erase everything he had witnessed. Now he was moving in on him again. Lying to people that he loved, threatening to take them away from him. After everything Harry had lost, he wouldn’t lose his new family. Especially not to Draco bloody Malfoy.

Henry interceded and pulled Harry away from Draco’s throat. “Harry, he said calmly. Whatever this boy did to you is in the past. I assure you he’s not faking his memory loss. I’ve done multiple CT scans myself and I’ve seen the trauma.”

“And you think none of that could be faked with magic?” Harry didn’t know that it could, but by the frown on Henry’s face neither did he.

Vane interjected on his father’s behalf. “I think what’s important here is that we know who he is now. We can contact his family and go from there,” he stated evenly.

Normally Harry would be impressed by the man’s level head, but right know Harry just wanted to strangle someone, preferably one obnoxious blonde. He took several deep calming breaths and let them out slowly. “I’m going to floo Hermione. She’ll know how to contact the Malfoy’s,” he said at last, and was a bit upset to hear the collective sigh spread through the room at Harry’s proposed departure.

Maybe he had gotten carried away, and Merlin knows he didn’t wish to spook his new family with his outburst, but this was Malfoy. The bane of his existence, and memory loss or no, they had no idea what they were dealing with.

--

“I’ll be there in a minute,” Hermione stated plainly.

He had reluctantly given Hermione his floo address after explaining the situation to her. She insisted she get to see Malfoy for herself before making an attempt to locate Lucius and Narcissa.

She had never heard of a spell that would fake brain trauma on muggle machinery, but didn’t overrule some other option, like a potion or glamour. There was a distinct possibility that he was faking, and Harry wasn’t going to let him get away with it if that were the case.

It just seemed all too convenient that Draco was brought to that hospital and assigned to his uncle, and only the day before Harry found out about them for himself.

Hermione was stepping into his flat a moment later and throwing her arms around him. After nearly suffocating him in her wild auburn hair she pulled back and wagged her finger at him. “I can’t believe it took a Draco Malfoy sighting for you to finally floo me,” she chastised.

“It’s a bit more complicated than a sighting, Mione, and we both know why I don’t visit more often,” he replied tersely.

She huffed at him. “Well, the flat is nice, Harry and… well I’ve been talking to Ron, and he says you’re really happy now, what with finding Lara and your uncle. I just wanted to you know that I won’t give you away again. I only ever wanted you to be happy. Before I thought that you were running from the war. I thought that facing things would help, but apparently running was the right thing to do,” she added with a grimace.

Harry smiled. “Thanks, Mione. I am happy, and you’re welcome here anytime,” he said. She looked like she might hug him again so he interrupted her. “Lara’s flat is just across the hall. Malfoy’s there.”

She nodded briskly and they set out across the corridor.

--

Draco Malfoy.

The name clicked in his mind like a puzzle piece falling into place. He felt the haziness inch away from that part of his mind, followed closely by the space occupying the name Harry. He could almost say the whole name from memory, but something kept it locked away, just outside of reach.

He had been familiar though. The moment he had walked into the room and seen the boy, he knew. Draco knew the person he was supposed to be would know the other boy.

Those green eyes, they were the ones he dreamed about. They were the same shade and held the same depth of thought and emotion that attracted his buried memories to the surface.

Everyone was staring at him. This family he had adopted all thought he was the thing that Harry had accused him of.

Death Eater.

That name cleared away more space in his mind, but that space contained only pitch-black dark. The kind you’d never see even in the purest of nights because the light of just one star would be too much for it to withstand.

The door clicked open and everyone was on edge again. Harry came back in, toting a girl he suspected to be this Hermione character he had mentioned. Who would name their child Hermione was beyond him, but then, his name was Draco, so what could he say?”

She looked at him and nodded at once. “It’s him no doubt, right down to the trademark Malfoy smirk,” she said brightly.

She then whirled around and offered her hand to Lara and Henry and the other man Draco hadn’t been introduced to yet. She hesitated at his hand and blushed furiously as he took hers and held it up to his lips.

Romantic Mudblood.

The thought came to his mind unbidden and he nearly choked on it. He didn’t even know what it meant, but it left a foul taste in his mouth.

Harry was still watching him, and he tried to avoid the emerald gaze, but found it too compelling to look away for long.

“So, Malfoy, anything coming back to you yet?” he whispered while Hermione and the others chatted.

“Feelings,” Draco responded. “I know I am who you say, the name feels right. I feel yours too, Harry,” he said.

Harry flinched and Draco gave him a perplexed look. “In school you always called me ‘Potter’,” he said in answer to Draco’s look.

“Potter,” he repeated. “Yes, you’re right. That does feel better,” he said with a smile.

Harry smiled back and then apparently realized something else and frowned.

“Did we really treat each other so formally,” he asked.

“It’s not a sign of respect,” Harry scoffed. “We’ve hated each other since we met,” he added.

Draco blinked and rolled the word ‘hate’ around on his tongue. “No, that can’t be right. It doesn’t feel right. You may have hated me, but I didn’t hate you.”

A perplexed look made Harry’s green eyes glow. “I assure you, Malfoy. You hated me. Ever since that first day in Madame Malkin’s, when we got our Hogwarts robes, you’ve been a right prat.”

“Robes?” he asked. The thought of it gave him shivers because it went along so well with the nightmares he had been having, the same ones he had passed off as the ranting of a crazy man.

“We’re wizards, you and I, surely you remember?” Harry prodded.

Draco shook his head. The words all made sense and fit securely in place with other remnants of memories Draco had picked up over the past few weeks. He didn’t want that life though. Whenever he tried to think too hard about it, it hurt him. It was like a sharp pain twisted through his heart and soul and left him feeling broken.

He wanted no part of his past life.

“Speaking of, where have you been hiding your wand?” Harry asked. His tone seemed casual, but Draco could see in his eyes that the boy didn’t believe him. He didn’t think Draco was sick at all, and thought he was faking his memory loss.

Draco knew those eyes. He could read every emotion that flickered through them.

He rummaged in his pockets and pulled out a stone and a gold coin and held them out to Harry. “This was all they found on me when I was brought into the hospital, along with the clothes I was wearing, which Henry says were burnt to a crisp.”

Harry held out his palm and accepted the small items. “This is just a galleon, wizard money,” he added at Draco’s confused look. “This other though…” his voice trailed off and his eyes went wide.

“How did you get this?” he demanded.

“The rock?” Draco asked, confused again. He hadn’t a clue why Harry should be so bent out of shape over a small stone.

“This is the resurrection stone. I tossed it into the Forbidden forest after the war. How. Did. You. Find. It?” Harry shouted.

All eyes were on them again, and both Henry and the other man tensed as if waiting to break apart a fight. “I didn’t know what it was. I still don’t, should I?”

Harry huffed and closed his palm around it, shaking his head. He turned away and walked over to Hermione, showing her the stone. There were whispered conversations and Draco was starting to get worried.

What would happen to him if they decided to throw him out? What if they thought he wasn’t worth the trouble any longer and went on Harry’s word alone? He had to get someone else on his side, someone he trusted.

“Lara,” he whispered.

She came to him at once and pulled him into a hug. “I’m so sorry, Dor… Draco. I know this must be difficult,” she cooed.

Draco relaxed in her arms, trying to ignore the angry glares being shot at him from across the room by Harry.

“Hermione says she knows how to get in touch with your parents. As soon as they learn where you are, I’m sure they’ll be here,” she said.

This bit of information didn’t make him feel better. Something deep inside said that he wanted to keep his parents far, far away, though he didn’t know why.

Authors Note: I think you all know by now my love of reviews