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The Persistence of Memory	By : stacygalore Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male Views: 1069 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter, nor do I benefit financially from the complete desecration of J.K. Rowling's characters.

Chapter List
- 1-The Persistence of Memory
- 2-Chapter 2
- 1
- 2
�The Persistence of Memory�

By Stacy Galore

A/N: As always, my gratitude goes out to Megan and
Felena, my lovely betas who also happen to be my wonderful friends. Special thanks go out to Daniel, for
his encouragement and his insistence that I finalize this chapter, which had
been sitting idly on my hard drive for months. I penned one line particularly for Jenniffer, and I think
she�ll be able to recognize it right away. Chapter 3 is currently in the works. Let�s hope it doesn�t take me months to
finalize it. If you�re reading
this on ff.net, the problem with the lost quotation marks and apostrophes has
been fixed (I hope).

Chapter 2

Being in love with
someone and loving someone are two very different things. It�s the difference between infatuation
and sincere affection. When you�re
in love with somebody, you could
spend days with that person and it would feel like seconds transpiring softly
as sand through fingers. You could waste a whole weekend in bed with somebody
when you�re in love. When you love someone, you could waste an entire lifetime, and you
would feel every beautifully painful second of it.

If being in love is
ecstasy, then Love is agony.

At least, for Draco Malfoy, it is.

No one really knows which one they are in until they�re
threatened with the prospect of loss.
For most, this prospect doesn�t present itself right away. But for Draco and Theodore, it had
always been there. He knew that it
would all have to end, for Draco�s life had been predestined, and there was
little room for Theodore. So from
the very beginning, Draco understood exactly what he felt for Theodore, and
never once allowed himself to say it.
Because speaking it aloud would make it all the more real and all the
more painful when it ended.

But, really, Draco didn�t have to verbalize it.

�Mmm.
Beautiful,� Draco groaned pleasurably against Theodore�s lips.

He had let himself in to Theodore�s flat, passing through
the wards he had put on the door himself.
Theodore was sitting on the sofa in his usual state of repose, with his
legs sprawled out across the cushions and a book in his lap. He closed the book, tilted his face to
meet Draco�s, and blessed Draco with a warm smile, a smile that Draco had seen
so rarely up until six moths ago.
Despite it�s new prevalence, Theodore�s smile still managed to be
disarming. It always inspired a
one-word compliment and a kiss.

Draco could feel Theodore�s lips still curving into a grin
against his. �And?� prodded
Theodore jokingly.

He ghosted his lips from Theodore�s mouth up to his cheek
and mumbled, �Flawless,� before gracing him with another kiss, and then another
compliment. �Perfect.�

These were words, up until recently, Draco would only ever
use to describe himself. It should
have said something about what Draco felt for Theodore that he was now
assigning these words to him honestly, without any ulterior motives� well,
almost none.

�Come off it, Draco.
I�m not nearly as gorgeous as you,� replied Theodore. As Draco kissed him, he could sense the
warmth in Theodore�s cheeks, indicating that he�d made him blush.

Draco drawled sarcastically, though playfully, �I never said
gorgeous, did I?�

Theodore chuckled.
�Right. You didn�t. That�s reserved for you.�

Draco pulled back slightly to admire Theodore�s face, the
back of his hand slowly caressing down his cheek. �Today, you can have it.� He leaned back in to press his lips to the spot his hand had
just vacated on Theodore�s face, mumbling a quiet moan, �Gorgeous.�

Theodore leaned away from him with a sharply raised eyebrow,
regarding Draco suspiciously. �Is
something going on, Draco?�

�No, not really.�
Draco shrugged casually.
�Why do you ask?�

�You�re laying it on rather thickly, Malfoy. You�re not one to shower anyone with so
many compliments unless you�re buttering them up for something.�

�For sex, maybe,� Draco joked. He kept his tone light to hide the nature of his true
intentions. �But really, I just
thought you looked particularly nice tonight.�

Theodore smiled again and made Draco feel terribly guilty
for being less than honest.
�Thanks. I figured I�d get
all �prettied up� for our date tonight,� he said, sarcastically.

Draco forced a smile as he absentmindedly smoothed down the
collar of Theodore�s tee shirt and superfluously fluffed his dark hair. �That�s quite lovely of you, but
entirely unnecessary. We�ll be
dining at The Manor tonight with my mother. Although, it doesn�t hurt to look good for mum.�

Flattery did little to soften Theodore. He looked both scandalized and
smug. �I knew it! I knew you were plying me with
compliments for a reason.�
Theodore rose from the couch and started swiftly towards the closet,
rifling through the shirts hanging on the rack. Apparently, his tee shirt and jeans weren�t presentable
enough for Narcissa Malfoy.

�I�m not lying,� Draco said with a slight smirk. He snaked his arms around Theodore�s
waist from behind as he frantically sifted through his clothes for something
else to wear. �I�d much rather
stay here and do terrible things to you.
But mother invited us over last minute. And she was very insistent. You know how she gets.�

A pout was forming on Theodore�s lips as he cursed under his
breath. Draco attempted to kiss it
away, but Theodore turned around and placed a hand on his chest to keep Draco
from advancing. He spoke softly
with a tinge of disappointment, �She still doesn�t know. Does she?�

Draco shook his head slowly. �At least she�s still pretending not to know.�

Still soft-spoken, Theodore asked, �Are we ever going to
tell her?�

Draco answered with another question. �If your gran were still alive, would
you tell her? Will you ever tell
your father?�

Theodore sighed and paused to think about it for a brief
moment, eyes cast downward. His
answer was a solemn, noncommittal shrug.

Draco met Theodore�s eyes, explaining gently what they both
already understood. �Theodore,
unlike you, I�m still deeply entrenched in our world. I still have a family to which I�m obligated. My father is already halfway towards
Death�s door and it would kill him if I admit to such a thing.� The more Draco spoke, the more Theodore
looked unhappy. Draco pulled him
into an embrace. �But don�t you
dare think for a second that I�m ashamed of you.�

�Fine. Whatever,� Theodore sighed somberly against Draco�s
ear. Just from his voice, he could
tell Theodore was still pouting.

He took Theodore�s face in his hands and locked eyes with
him – silvery grey meeting ice blue. Draco knew that Theodore was one of the few people who could
read the secret emotions hidden behind his otherwise cold stare. His mouth formed the words, �I swear, I
am not ashamed of my feelings for you, Theodore,� while his eyes declared his
love. Draco paused, waiting for a
response, hoping he wouldn�t have to utter the words he felt in his heart in
order to make Theodore believe it.

Theodore gently curled his hands around Draco�s wrists and
let his eyes fall. As his thumbs softly caressed Draco�s skin, he whispered,
�If you�re not ashamed, then why won�t you tell me what those feelings are?�

Draco took his hands away from Theodore�s face and let his
arms drop to his sides. �You of
all people should understand why.
You�re a purveyor of words, Theo.
Once they are written, once they are spoken, they become fixed.�

Theodore finished Draco�s thought, offering his own
explanation with a slight tinge of bitterness, �And you don�t want to become
entrapped within the word. You�re
afraid speaking it will give it weight and meaning.�

Draco gently pulled Theodore flush against him with a hand
on the small of his back. He
hooked a finger under Theodore�s chin, bringing their lips close together and
uttered quietly, �Tell me, Theodore.
Do you honestly believe this has neither weight nor meaning?� Draco pressed a kiss upon his mouth,
softly at first, waiting for Theodore�s assent before deepening it.

Theodore shook his head slowly with a wry grin. �You�re so full of it, Draco.�

�Am not,� Draco replied playfully before nipping Theodore�s
bottom lip. Draco slipped his
hands over the back of Theodore�s trousers, caressing his backside through the
fabric, and whispered hotly into his ear, �When I fuck you, Theodore, do you
really believe it�s meaningless?�
His grip tightened suddenly, eliciting a soft gasp from Theodore. �Because if that�s what you think, then
I�m doing something wrong.�

Draco took him by the arm and jerked him around so that they
were both facing the long mirror that hung in Theodore�s closet. It was actually a tiny room Draco had
turned into a walk-in-closet when he was horrified to discover that Theodore
kept his clothes, even his nice designer pieces, folded in trunks. Draco stood closely behind Theodore,
staring intently at the reflection of his lover from over his shoulder. Theodore caught Draco�s intense eyes in
the mirror and took the corner of his bottom lip between his teeth – one
of his coy mannerisms that Draco found terribly arousing. Whenever Theodore did this, Draco
always had the urge to kiss him hard, to scorch away all pretense of timidity,
to inspire Theodore to use those teeth more purposefully on him. Draco didn�t break his gaze into the
mirror as he took Theodore�s face in his hand, turned it to meet his, and
devoured his lips wetly. Draco�s free arm snaked around Theodore�s waist and
crossed over his abdomen as he held him in a tight embrace while drinking in
the delicious sight of them kissing in the mirror.

From this unique vantage point, Draco was able to study how
Theodore kissed. He had certainly
become accustomed to what it felt like, but not to what it looked like. The sight of Theodore�s tongue slipping
ever so slightly from his mouth to subtly lick Draco�s lips before closing over
them was almost as delightful as the way it felt. He let his eyelids flutter closed for a moment as he took in
a quivering breath, tasting the now familiar flavor of mint shrouding a faint,
underlying flavor of cigarettes.
He involuntarily released the breath as a soft moan, and when he opened
his eyes, Theodore was looking at him with a slight smirk playing on his wet
lips.

�You see?
Meaningless,� Draco teased, letting a hand wander down to Theodore�s
lap. �I feel nothing,� he purred
as he stroked the outline of Theodore�s growing arousal through his trousers.

A cheeky grin quirked the corners of Theodore�s lips. �If you keep at it, Malfoy, I�m sure
you�ll feel something.

�Yeah, I�ll bet,� said Draco in a low drawl as he turned his
face slightly to kiss the side of Theodore�s neck.

By the time they arrived at Malfoy Manor, they were
sufficiently late for dinner.
Draco kissed both of Narcissa�s cheeks and apologized, without any real
remorse, �Sorry we�re late, mum.
Theodore was having a bit of a wardrobe malfunction.�

That wardrobe malfunction, of course, being that Theodore
couldn�t keep his trousers on, thanks to Draco. The thrill of fucking Theodore against the mirror still
colored Draco�s cheeks a faint pink, long after the fact. He couldn�t wipe the smirk from his
face just thinking about it – about how deliciously pliant Theodore was
in his hands, and how perfect their bodies looked together, interlocked like
puzzle pieces. For every one of Draco�s curves, Theodore had a complimentary
crevice.

Horrified, Draco thought he saw his mother regarding
Theodore with a knowing gleam in her eye.

�Oh, really, Theodore?
Well, you look quite nice.
It was worth the effort.�
She said, not bothering to hide the insincere inflection in her haughty
voice, as Theodore greeted her with an air-kiss for each cheek.

His mother hooked an arm into Draco�s. He led them off to the dining room,
Theodore following close behind.

Narcissa spent the first two courses of dinner catching up
with Draco, or rather, fussing over him, while Theodore ate quietly with an
amused grin on his face.

�You look tired, Draco,� said Narcissa, her tone more
accusatory than concerned. �Are
you getting enough sleep? It�s too
noisy at your townhouse in London.
Perhaps you should consider moving back into The Manor.�

Draco sat up straighter in his chair, shirking off any
notion that he was tired. �I�m
fine, mum. I just had a long
day.�

In fact, Draco was positively spent. He usually liked to take a nap after a
good, vigorous shag, but their evening schedule would not allow it. Draco generally avoided such strenuous
activity before going out at night, but he couldn�t help himself. Sex in front of a mirror was just too
alluring for a narcissist. Draco
found himself blushing again and threw a furtive glance at Theodore, who smiled
knowingly at him as he ate a baby carrot with a faintly suggestive flair.

Thankfully, Narcissa did not catch the silent exchange
between the two young men, but Draco�s reaction didn�t go unnoticed. �Are you getting ill, perhaps? You look a bit flushed.�

�No mum, I�m fine,� assured Draco, before taking a sip of
Chardonnay. �It must be the wine.�

Narcissa nodded, sipping daintily from her own crystal goblet,
�Hm. Yes. It�s quite nice. But go easy on it before the main
course, lest you get ill, Draco.
You know alcohol goes straight to your head if you haven�t eaten.�

Draco saw Theodore biting back a chuckle. He said impatiently, placing the glass
down on the mahogany table and pushing it away, �I�m fine mother.�

Narcissa continued to pry, �You look thin. Is that house elf of yours not feeding
you properly? Shall I have him
replaced?�

Draco gazed down at his salad, which looked entirely unappetizing
at the moment despite it being his favorite (endives with crumbled goat cheese
and walnuts, drizzled with balsamic vinegar.) He inhaled deeply through his nose, and exhaled slowly
through his mouth to steady his nerves, upon which his mother was treading on
the last of. �Mother, I assure
you. I�m fine. I�m healthy, I�m eating well, and I�m
sleeping well. In general, I�m
living quite well, mum. Please,
stop fussing.�

�Yet no girlfriend to speak of, hm?� It was more of a blunt statement of
fact than an inquiry on his mother�s part.

The salad suddenly became exceptionally appetizing. Draco occupied his mouth with a large
bite before answering. �My love
life is not up for discussion, mother.�

Narcissa sighed, �Oh dear. I take that as a no.�
She turned to Theodore and implored, �Can�t you help Draco with that?�

�With his love life?
Oh, I have, Mrs. Malfoy,� replied Theodore with a smug grin on his
face. Draco nearly choked on a
walnut. �I�ve taken him out
several times. Introduced him to plenty
of pretty, young, women.� He
wasn�t lying. Draco and Theodore
went out in muggle London together quite often. Draco had met a number of Theodore�s female friends who
might be considered attractive.

Narcissa raised a hopeful eyebrow. �And?�

�Apparently, nobody�s good enough for your son,� said
Theodore. This was also not a lie.

She snorted primly. �Of course. Draco is an exceptional young man. He�s the most eligible bachelor in Wizarding England, and
quite possibly, all of Europe.�
Narcissa gave Theodore a stern, haughty look. �You were introducing
Draco to the right sort, I hope.
Pure-blood, well bred.
Marriage material.�

Draco knew Theodore was shit at lying, so he quickly cut
in. �Of course, mother. You think Theodore would align himself
with any other sort of women?�
Definitely. The sort of
women Theodore befriended these days was decidedly muggle, more likely than not
a lesbian, and had at least one body part pierced or tattooed.

�I would assume not,� Narcissa answered her son, then
returned her attention to Theodore, �You�re from a fine family, Theodore. I doubt you�d sully the prestigious
House of Nott by consorting with the dregs of society.� Then she pierced him with a meaningful
leer before reclining back in her chair and gesturing to the house elf to serve
the next course. She sipped her
wine. �I read your novel. You�ve got quite an imagination,� she
said casually, yet with a noticeably astute undertone.

Draco scrambled to get Theodore out of the hot seat. �Doesn�t he, mum? I often wonder where Theodore gets his
ideas. They�re so far off from his
reality. Right, Theo?�

It was like they were children again. Draco was putting words in Theodore�s
mouth to keep from getting in trouble with his mother. Though as boys, Draco was usually
unconcerned for Theodore. Now he
feared for them both.

�Right. Pure
fantasy,� said Theodore, smiling slightly, though looking down at his salad.

Narcissa grinned – toothy and shrewd, juxtaposed by a
honey toned voice. �How clever you are, Theodore. Surely you must have
a girlfriend.�

The knuckles of Draco�s hand were white as he gripped his
water goblet so tightly that it was on the verge of shattering. He prayed to the gods that Theodore
could keep lying. Narcissa likely
saw through the lies, but at least lying kept discussion of the real issues at
bay.

Theodore�s face lit up with a smile, though he didn�t dare
look at Draco. �There�s somebody
very special in my life.�

�Ah. How
wonderful for you.� Narcissa�s
shrewd grin softened slightly. �I
can tell from your face that you�re quite smitten with her.�

�I�m hopelessly in love,� said Theodore. Then, damn it, Theodore bit the corner
of his bottom lip to keep his smile from spreading further and Draco nearly
lost it. He thought of all manner
of horrible things to prevent himself from smiling – dead kittens,
Voldemort alive and well, his favorite Paul Smith suit irreparably stained with
red wine.

�That�s great news.
I�ll expect wedding bells to chime soon. You�re not getting any younger and I�m sure your father is
itching for grandchildren.�

That killed it, for both Theodore and Draco. The mention of Theodore�s father always
dampened his mood. Surely,
Narcissa knew from the high society grape vine that Theodore had been estranged
from his father for years.
Bringing him up in the same conversation as weddings and grandchildren
was no doubt a carefully hidden jibe at the two young men. Mother always knew what to say to make
Draco feel eternally guilty.

Draco spent the rest of dinner engaging his mother in a
discussion about renovating the East wing of the house. It was something he couldn�t care less
about, but knew it would keep Narcissa off the topic of his or Theodore�s personal
lives.

Finally, dessert came.
�Darling, why don�t you bring some cake up to your father. I�m sure he�d like to see you,�
suggested Narcissa.

Draco felt awful for not mentioning his father once the
entire evening. �How is he?�

Lucius Malfoy had been ill for quite some time. His short stint in Azkaban had left him
severely weakened, both physically and emotionally. He became prone to long bouts of sickness, exacerbated by
depression. Lucius had been plagued
with pneumonia for weeks and was bed-ridden at the moment, cared-for around the
clock by a live-in healer. Of
course, Narcissa was a formidable nurse as well. But nobody seemed to tackle the issue of Lucius� mental
health, which surely must have been impacting his physical health. Draco hated
to see his father, who he once worshiped as the regal, Malfoy patriarch,
weakened to this extent. Draco
avoided seeing him as much as he could, unable to deal with the pain of
confronting the shell of his former idol.

�Healer Ming started putting a smidge of opium in his
tea. It�s ameliorated his mood
swings slightly.� Narcissa handed
him a plate of cake and nudged him on.
�Go. I�ll keep Theodore
entertained.� Draco left
reluctantly as his mother rounded on Theodore and asked him about his plans to
write more books.

Draco knocked on the door of his father�s bedchamber. An ageing witch with a tight black knot
of hair answered the door and whispered, �Mr. Malfoy. It�s been a while.
Your father has been asking about you.� She ushered him in.

�How�s he fairing?� Draco asked.

�The same. You
should visit more. It makes him
happy,� she answered with a gentle smile.
Draco doubted that was true.
With that, she left Draco alone with his father and Suraya, their Afghan
hound that lay at the foot of the bed.
Lucius generally didn�t allow the dog to sleep on the bed. The fact that the dog was curled up
over Lucius� feet did not bode well for his father�s loneliness and health
condition.

He sat upright against the headboard with a tray on his lap,
sipping tea. Draco approached
slowly and sat in the chair beside the bed. �I brought you some cake to go along with that tea, father.�

Lucius glanced to the plate suspiciously. �What sort of cake?�

Draco answered, placing the plate neatly on the tray,
�Coconut.�

�I think I�ll pass, Draco.� Lucius look displeased with more than the cake. �What have you been doing, son? You haven�t been around in weeks.�

Draco shrugged.
�The usual.�

�A whole lot of nothing, then?� Narcissa had an uncanny way
of making a question sound like an accusation and Lucius�s ability to do so
also came tipped with poison. The
guilt factor had already come into play within the first few seconds of their
conversation.

�Father, I-� Draco began, but Lucius answered for him.

�Let me guess.
You�ve been cavorting around London with that Nott boy, squandering my
money on frivolity and expensive muggle clothes.�

Draco hated how his father continued to call Theodore �That
Nott Boy� as if they were still children.
He opened his mouth to retort, but was again halted by his father�s
overbearing personality.

�Honestly, son, how do you expect to find a wife if you hang
around him all the time? It�s
obviously not attracting the right sort of attention. Why not be seen with that Zabini fellow? He always has a different, attractive,
pure-blood witch on his arm every time I encounter him at social
functions. I�m sure he�s got a few
girls to spare.�

�I�m doing just fine, father,� said Draco through pursed
lips.

�Well I�m not, Draco. Look at me,� he gestured dramatically
and exaggerated, �I could keel over and die tomorrow and-�

Draco reached out and took his father�s hand gently. �Don�t
talk like that, father, you�re not going to-�

�Die tomorrow?
Hm. Well, I�m sure you�d
just love that.� He dropped his
son�s hand and crossed his arms over his chest.

Draco glared.
�No, I would not.�

�You�re doing an awful job of showing that your father
actually matters to you, Draco.
You�ve done absolutely nothing to uphold the name I�ve made for us, done
nothing to ensure the future of our bloodline.�

Lucius swished his wand and vanished the tray from his lap,
which was a good thing, because Draco felt like flinging it across the
room. Of course, it didn�t matter
to Lucius that Draco was happy for the first time in years. It didn�t matter that he was finally
living independently as an adult.
All that fucking mattered to Lucius Malfoy was their name. His son�s wellbeing was
inconsequential. Draco couldn�t
speak. His hands were balled up
into fists.

Then Lucius� tone softened. He placed a hand on his son�s shoulder. �I know I�ve expected quite a lot from
you, son, and you have lived up to my expectations spectacularly. But now, all I want from you is to find
a good wife and produce the Malfoy heir before I pass on. That�s hardly unreasonable. Is it?�

Draco knew that there was no other answer to that question
except the one his father wanted to hear.
He sighed heavily. �No,
it�s not.�

Lucius pat his son on the back. �Good boy. Your
mother and I have been discussing good matches for you.�

Draco�s head snapped up in alarm. �You what?�

�I know arranged marriages have gone out of fashion, but
that doesn�t mean we can�t help the process along. We�ve compiled a list of witches from good stock.�

�Father,� Draco admonished.

Lucius held up a placating hand. �Don�t worry, we�ve weeded out the less than attractive
ones. I can assure you that
they�ll all be to your liking.� He
took out a small piece of parchment from inside his brocade dressing gown and
handed it to Draco.

He scanned down the thankfully short list and looked up with
a skeptically raised eyebrow.
�Marcelline Flint? Marcus�
little sister? What is she,
twelve?�

Lucius chuckled.
�She�s just a few years younger than you. But your mother assures me she�s a lovely young woman. Graduated Beaubatons with honors two
years ago.�

Draco picked out a familiar name and bristled slightly. �Astoria Greengrass.�

�What a beauty, that one, eh?� Lucius said with a whistle.

�Yeah, I know,� Draco said blandly, �I dated her a few years
ago. She�s gorgeous, but she�s
awful when she�s drunk.� He
shuddered at the memory of holding back Astoria�s hair as she hurled her dinner
into the Thames after a night of clubbing with Daphne and Blaise.

�We�ll have to work on that. But she�s still a promising prospect,� said Lucius.

�Alright. I�ll
keep them all under consideration.�
Draco tucked the parchment into the inside pocket of his blazer, knowing
he�d tear it to shreds as soon as he got home.

Lucius ruffled Draco�s hair affectionately. He and his mother were the only people
allowed to trespass upon his heavily guarded blond locks. �That�s my boy. Now tell me. Been to any good quidditch matches lately?�

By the time Draco escaped, dessert was finished in the
dining room. Narcissa was sipping
tea and reading a magazine. She
gestured to the patio on the other side of the louvered doors. �Theodore�s outside having a smoke. How�s your father?�

�He�ll be fine, mum.�
He kissed her forehead and gently rubbed her back with a reassuring, yet
feigned, smile. �Everything�s
going to be fine mum.�

He walked out onto the patio to stand next to Theodore, who
was leaning on the stone ramparts, looking out over the wide expanse of grass,
flicking ashes to the lawn below.
Draco inhaled the evening spring air and gazed up at the glittering
night sky. �I never noticed how
much brighter the stars are above Malfoy Manor until I lived in London. The city lights drown them out.�

Theodore blew out a plume of smoke and answered
distantly. �Yeah.�

Narcissa peeked her head through the glass doors. �I�m going to bed, boys.�

Draco scurried to the doorway, kissed his mother goodnight,
and thanked her for dinner.
Inwardly, he thanked the gods for a second away from his parents. Theodore waved his gratitude and his
evening tidings from the railing.
When Draco returned to Theodore�s side, he sighed heavily.

His eyes revisited the heavens as he mused fondly, �Remember
the last time we were stargazing at Malfoy Manor?�

The memory was bittersweet. It was late in the summer before his fifth year at
Hogwarts. That was the night that
decided the next ten years for Draco and Theodore. He and Theodore had a row after a fencing match in which
Draco implied Theodore wanted him.
Theo avoided Draco for weeks after that incident. But he knew Theodore couldn�t avoid him
much longer and expected him to show up with his father that night. Lucius was hosting a very important
meeting. Narcissa concocted an
excuse to get the boys out of the house.
Draco lay on the great lawn atop a wool blanket, stared up at the sky,
and awaited a meteor shower that would never come. But he wasn�t really anticipating the sight of falling
stars, he was looking forward to spending the evening with Theodore.

In the weeks leading up to that night, Draco couldn�t stop
thinking about Theodore, about how they nearly kissed – about how
Theodore�s body felt pressed up against his, staining Draco�s white fencing
uniform with blood, imprinting his subtle heat upon his skin like a
memory. Draco�s desire for
Theodore had been gnawing at him all summer until he resigned to do something
about it. It was forbidden, it was
disgusting, and it didn�t make sense.
But Draco knew he couldn�t go on without getting what he wanted. And what he wanted more than anything
was to snog that boy senseless. He
promised himself he�d only let it happen once, just to satisfy his teenage
urges and his curiosity.

When Theodore came close enough to kiss, Draco felt
something unexpected. He could
feel it tingling throughout his whole body, making him sweat in the balmy
evening breeze. In that instant,
Draco knew he wouldn�t be able to stop with just one kiss. He wanted to tear Theodore�s clothes
from his body and ravage him right there on the lawn. He found himself unbearably hard inside his trousers. Draco understood that he was not
emotionally equipped to deal with what these feelings meant, and thus also
understood that he couldn�t allow even one kiss. But it was too late.
Theodore�s lips were already upon his. It took all of Draco�s resolve to keep still, to not kiss
back, to not pin Theodore to the ground and devour every inch of his body.

What Draco didn�t know at the time was how much it would
hurt Theodore to reject him like that.

�How could I forget?�
Answered Theodore, sounding bitter.

�We could make amends, you know,� proposed Draco with a
smirk, snaking an arm around the small of Theodore�s back, �I�m sure with a
well placed disillusionment charm we could fuck on the Great Lawn undetected.� He ghosted his lips on Theodore�s neck
and murmured, �Beneath the stars.
It�ll be brilliant. I�ll
even let you top.�

Theodore wrenched himself out of Draco�s arms and spat
quietly, �Fuck you, Malfoy.� He
flicked the butt of his cigarette off the patio and turned to go, leaving Draco
astonished. �I�m going home.�

Draco clamped his hand around Theodore�s arm to keep him
from departing. �What the fuck is
your problem, Theodore? I�m sorry
I dredged up the past. I didn�t
know it would upset you so much.�

Theodore glared at him, eyes glossy with un-spilled
tears. The pain and regret in his
blue eyes startled Draco. �You�re
unbelievable, Draco.
Un-fucking-believable.�
With that, Theodore yanked out of Draco�s grasp and stormed down the
steps of the terrace. Draco was
too stunned to follow right away.
He watched Theodore tromp through the grass towards the gates before
scuttling down the stairs after him.

�Don�t, Draco,� called Narcissa. Draco stopped short, flung around, and looked up to see his
mother standing on the balcony of her bedroom. �Let him go, darling.
It�s for the best.�

Draco turned to the darkened grounds, eyes quickly scanning
the lawn. Theodore was gone.
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The Persistence of Memory