Never A Memory

~Dancing in the Rain~

The Minister's Suite...
***

Draco took a step forward, his heart pounding in his chest. Harry’s face was guarded and he would not look at him.

“You’ve been thinking a lot about us,” Harry said, keeping his gaze averted. It wasn’t a question, and they both knew it. “I have been too.”

Draco paused, hating the sound in Harry’s voice. “Have you changed your mind?” Draco watched a muscle work in Harry’s jaw. “About what you said yesterday?”

Harry stiffened. “You still don’t get it. My mind has nothing to do with what I said yesterday.”

Draco slid his hands in his pockets and gazed at the far wall. Watching Harry refuse to look at him was too much. “I know.”

“Do you?” Harry retorted shortly. “’ Responsibility, duty, dignity’,” Harry quoted. “’Fear makes you weak, anger makes you strong’…’everything else is weakness’…I don’t want to hear any more of your bullshit, Draco.”

Draco lifted his chin, his grey eyes burning indignantly like fired coals. “I was trying to protect you.”

“I told you once, Malfoy; I don’t need your protection,” Harry grated through clenched teeth. “That’s my job—“

“It won’t always be,” Draco interrupted without thinking what he was saying through. Draco hesitated. “Given that we survive this, my case will be closed, Auror. It won’t be your job anymore. Then what? We ride off into the sunset on a white horse? Give me a sodding break, Potter.”

“I’ve never really been fond of horseback riding,” Harry remarked, still gazing off into someplace Draco couldn’t see. “You think we’re ‘absurd’, and it may be true, but there are stranger things than two people falling in love.”

Draco’s breath caught in his throat and he felt every muscle in his body freeze. There was that word again. Love.

Wô ài nî. I love you.

Could he say it? Could he believe it? Is it worth it?

Is it worth it to try?

“I have a different understanding of things, Potter.”

~*~

The noise was horrendous. Piercing grey eyes managed to tear themselves away from the bubbling, foul-smelling brew in the cauldron and glance irritably towards the window. It was freezing outside. And now it was raining. Why couldn’t it snow when it was cold like this? Why did it have to rain?

Big, fat drops of water continued to pound the roof and walls of his charmed hut relentlessly. Taunting him, teasing him. Beckoning to him.

~*~

Harry snorted. Draco found he didn’t like it when he did that. It always meant the young Auror wasn’t taking him seriously.

“My mother loved me,” Draco murmured, nearly choking on the word. “In her own way. But even she was cruel. She loved my father. She was blinded by it.”

Something softened in Harry’s demeanor. “Love doesn’t always blind, Malfoy.”

“I do not think that’s true,” Draco argued in a soft voice. “When I’m with you, all I can see is you. When you’re gone, you’re all I think about. I do not want to be molded by what I feel for you. I want to hold on to at least a little of myself.”

“Did your mother change?” Harry asked, glancing at Draco out of the corner of his eye.

Draco frowned. “If the rumors are true; no, I think not. It’s hard to say for sure, I was not alive back then.”

Harry nodded and looked away again. “I’m not Lucius, Draco. I wouldn’t let anyone hurt you like your father hurt your mother.”

“I know that.” Draco bit his lip and walked quietly into the kitchen, taking a seat at the table. After a moment, Harry did the same. “You said something yesterday that…I didn’t know before. You said that happiness doesn’t just happen to anybody. It’s something you have to choose into.” Draco paused, seeing Harry finally look up at him. Draco gazed at Harry for a long time before saying: “I didn’t know you could choose out of Slytherin until you did with the Sorting Hat. I was always taught that some things were just…as they were.”

~*~

The hours dragged by, as they always did, one into the other. Minutes ticked by in a slow, monotonous drone, and still it poured. The rain drops hammered his hut, and he simmered in his frustration. He glared again towards the sound of rain. It rang in his ears, driving him mad. His hands shook as the they knotted the frayed ends of his robes, giving his split and raw fingers something to do as the cauldron continued to bubble and stew.

Taunting, beckoning, ceaseless rain. The dreary world outside mirrored the color of his eyes. He wanted to go, but a splash of red petals against his mother’s cold, dead hands prevented him. He once enjoyed the rain. He once hoped for overcast skies and the angry roll of thunderheads. They used to match the turmoil in his soul, the need for cleansing, the want for change. Storms always seemed to leave rebirth and destruction simultaneously in its wake. But it had been raining that day too. And rain lost the excitement in him. It meant something different now. It meant grief and guilt and sworn vengeance.

It meant unshed tears. It meant loss.

Still, it rained.

~*~

Harry nodded slowly, thinking he understood; if just a little bit.

“And at Number Twelve Grimmauld Place,” Draco continued, his voice scarcely more than a whisper, “I tried something new. I tried letting go and letting you in. Happiness seemed to come naturally, didn’t it?’

Harry nodded again.

“It always seemed so natural for you,” Draco murmured. “Natural to laugh, natural to joke, natural to befriend people. It wasn’t though, was it? The Scar was driving you mad. I saw the growing darkness in your eyes and the lengthening of time between your smiles, and I wondered if you were giving up. I wondered what it would take to make you smile. And then I convinced myself I didn’t care. I had bigger problems.”

~*~

He had to go out into it. He needed the Leerdog Root. It was time for the new ingredient.

“Xiàn zài jî diân?” he muttered to himself, checking his time piece. He had been doing that a lot lately: Whispering to himself in the darkness, just to make sure he was still there. Just to make sure he wasn’t fading away.

He couldn’t wait any longer. He had to go get it. It was still raining. Ceaseless, beckoning, very, very cold.

A splash of red and his guts twisted in on themselves. A swirl of black, and his blood boiled with wrath. He stood, not bothering to dust off his pants. He had learned vanity got him nowhere here long ago.

Besides, he would be cleansed soon enough. Scoured, and wet, and frozen. He had to go. He had to get it. If he failed now, there would be no point.

~*~

“I don’t want to be the reason you don’t smile, Harry,” Draco muttered brokenly, his voice catching in his throat. “But I cannot promise you I’ll make you happy.”

“You can’t,” Harry said simply, his voice equally as quiet. “It’s something that I’ll have to choose into. It can be effortless, Draco. That’s what I’ve been trying to tell you.”

Effortless. Draco looked away. Nothing was effortless.

~*~

It was cold. His breath came out in white, cloudy gasps and freezing water bit at his exposed skin, clawing at his pores and driving the bitter chill down to his very core. He trudged through the mud, getting soaked with each step, and finally reached the spot.

He shivered violently as he bent to collect the Leerdog Root and then forced himself to run back to the hut in time to place the plant into the cauldron.

Inside the hut, it was warm. Inside the hut, it was dry.

He watched with shrewd grey eyes as the Leerdog Root disappeared into the boiling brew and yearned to go back outside. The cold was calling to him. The rain wanted to kiss his flesh. The wind wanted to whisper something sacred to his soul.

He glanced at the door. He must be mad.

~*~

Is it worth it to try?

Is it worth it?

Draco stared into Harry’s green eyes, the Auror's face no longer guarded, but open. There was an invitation there. Draco imagined Harry holding out his hand, though, really, he wasn’t.

I love you. Why couldn’t he say it? What was wrong with him?

Was he broken?

Draco stood and turned away.

~*~

He stood in the rain, shivering so violently he could barely breathe; his teeth chattering so hard his jaw hurt. He lifted his face to the weeping heavens and felt the wet, freezing rain pour over his face. He lifted his shoulders, letting his robes slip over his arms. He kicked off his shoes and felt the cold mud between his toes.

Water snaked down his bared arms, washing over his scars, soaking through his tattered shirt. He was part of it now. He was enveloped by it. There was nothing separating him from the storm. It wasn’t as loud outside as it was inside.

He felt the thunder rumble in his soul, he felt the lighting strike in his heart, and there was no difference between his own tears and the ones falling from the heavens.

~*~

Harry stood but did not go to him. He stood on the other side of the kitchen table and waited.

Draco gazed at his hands. “I was never supposed to come back, Harry. I never thought I would get a second chance. I never really thought of it as a second chance until yesterday. Not really. I thought maybe I was living in some sort of strange, surreal dream. Maybe that’s why it’s easier to believe it wasn’t real.”

Say it. Say it. Say it.

Draco turned back around, his pale pointed face pallid against the feverish, vulnerable look in his eyes. “But it was real. I know that.” I won’t say I’m sorry. Not again.

Say it. Say it. Say it.

~*~

He began to move, spinning in the mud, in the rain, faster and faster. Heat warmed his blood, flooded his muscles. He twirled, around and around. He fell.

Mud on his face, mud in his hair, mud everywhere. He stood up and began to spin again, flailing his arms wide, his eyes crazed, a smile beginning to curl his lips. He jumped, kicking his feet, spraying mud in every direction. He fell again.

Pain shot through his shoulder and he groaned. He was slower to get up this time. He had to do this. Something was breaking. He finally got his feet under him

~*~

“It was real,” Draco repeated.

Harry continued to wait. He wasn’t holding out his hand, but he may as well have been.

Say it. Say it. Say it.

Draco opened his mouth, but the words caught in his throat. He tried again but closed his eyes. He struggled with some internal battle Harry could not help him with. Harry waited, holding his breath, his heart pounding in his chest.

“Wô ài nî.” The foreign words escaped Draco’s pale lips in a ragged gasp. “It is worth it. Wô ài nî.”

Harry didn’t speak Mandarin but it was enough. He was in front of Draco in three quick strides, pulling him roughly into his arms.

Wô ài nî. I love you.

~*~

Spinning, faster and faster, he suddenly broke into a run. He stumbled, a laugh escape his throat. His pale hair was soaked and sticking to his face and neck, his clothes seemed to be painted on his body, and his feet felt like blocks of ice. He ran.

He ran until his chest hurt from the freezing air he sucked into his lungs, he ran until his muscles burned from exhaustion, he ran until his mind swam from the cold. And then he ran some more.

He laughed again, the sound free and unfettered. Something broke. Something shattered. He spun again, his arms flailing, rain and cold, and mud everywhere. He was the storm. He would leave rebirth and destruction in his wake.

He was free.

He laughed and laughed.

He wasn’t mad. Not really.

He was free.

And very, very wet.

He stumbled again and fell to his knees, laughing the entire way down. He laughed until he wasn’t cold anymore. He laughed until the noise in his soul subsided. He laughed until the clouds parted and the sun peeked through.

Then, through the steam and fog, he made his way back to the hut.

~*~

Harry kissed him softly as Draco’s arms came up and wrapped around his neck. Harry sucked Draco’s lower lip into his mouth and nibbled on it with his teeth, slowly, carefully, before releasing it and kissing him again. He moved his mouth over Draco’s, his movements gentle and loving. His tongue caressed Draco’s, unpretentious and unhurried, carefully mapping out the cavern of Draco’s mouth. He brought his hands up to cup Draco’s face, fingers feather light on the Slytherin’s skin. Draco shivered under his touch, his eyes opening slightly to watch Harry as the Auror kissed him.

Harry’s eyes were closed, his lashes a stark sweep of black against his cheeks. His features were relaxed and genuine. His dark messy hair framed his beautiful face and Draco was suddenly overwhelmed by the feeling that bubbled up inside of him.

This was different. This wasn’t like the way they had kissed before. Their Scar did not interfere. There was no spark of swirling magic. There was no binding tension. This was just them. This was their own passion, their own touch, their own need.

And, Merlin help him, Draco liked it this way better.

Harry moaned into his mouth as Draco began to return the kiss, brushing his own tongue up against Harry’s, dancing and battling for control. Their kiss deepened; Harry’s fingers dug into Draco’s hair, Draco clutched at Harry’s robes, trying to bring them closer together.

Draco unpinned the collar of Harry’s robes and pushed them off his shoulders, moving his fingers lower to undue Harry’s pants as he panted under Harry’s talented mouth. He felt Harry smile against his lips and kiss him again as Harry began to return the favor. They undressed one another slowly, passion setting their blood afire, desire making their heads swim.

Draco shivered as Harry traced one finger down his throat and over his collarbone. The hand traveled lower, twirling small, invisible patterns on the skin of Draco’s quivering abdominal muscles. The fingers brushed lightly against the bobbing head of Draco’s straining phallus. The blond Slytherin grabbed his hand, breaking away from the kiss, and led them both into the bedroom. Harry grinned and Draco froze, entranced.

He had caused that smile. It was for him.

Harry dipped his head for another slow kiss after closing the door, gently pushing Draco onto the large bed. Harry moved above him, pressing his own erection into Draco’s thigh, moaning as their bodies made contact. Harry shivered as Draco ran his fingers down his spine.

Harry kissed his neck, his blood hot and racing through his veins. Harry traveled lower, leaving a trail of searing kisses on Draco’s pale throat and shoulder. Harry paused, listening to Draco’s breathing turn ragged beneath him. His own breath was coming in short gasps.

Heat gathered in their groins as Harry shifted his hips, forcing their erect shafts to rub against one another. Draco’s eyes fluttered closed and he sucked in a sharp breath, the sensation from his aching cock shooting up his spine and spiking at the ends of his fingers and toes.

Harry laid his cheek on Draco’s chest and traced one finger down his lover’s left arm, brushing his fingertips lightly over the scars on the inner part of his forearm. He gently lifted Draco’s arm and shifted his torso so he could press his lips against the scars.

As Draco watched, unbidden tears pricked his eyes and he had to blink them away. Draco sat up, forcing Harry to prop himself up on his knees. Draco stared down at the Order of the Phoenix tattoo inked into the flesh of Harry’s chest. He had never dared to touch it before, thinking Harry wouldn’t like it. But he reached out and traced the stark black lines with his index finger.

Their eyes met.

Abruptly, their slow lovemaking shifted into passionate need. Draco grabbed the back of Harry’s neck and slammed their lips together, causing their teeth to clash painfully. Draco pulled Harry back down on top of him, pushing his hips into Harry’s. Harry growled into Draco’s mouth and rutted violently back against him.

No magic sphere enveloped them. No Horcrux tension muted out their cries and buzzed loudly in their ears. They could hear very pant, feel every touch, taste every bead of sweat. Draco bit down on Harry’s lip, tasting blood. Harry slid his hands under Draco’s firm buttocks and squeezed tightly. Draco arched up, moaning, Harry gasped as another wave of pleasure swept through his limbs as their shafts pressed against one another. Draco reached between them and wrapped his fist around Harry’s hard cock, causing Harry to throw his head back as the friction sent skittering waves of sparks throughout his nerve endings.

Harry pulled his hands back, gripping Draco’s hip with one hand. With the other, he scooped up the salty drops of precum that was beginning to gather on both their purpling heads with his fingers. He brought his hand up to his mouth, but Draco snatched his wrist and led Harry’s fingers into his own mouth. Draco rolled his tongue over the pads of Harry’s fingers, tasting their co-mingled fluids and soaking Harry’s fingers with his own saliva.

Harry watched, open-mouthed and entranced, as Draco worked his lips over his fingers, feeling Draco’s silky tongue sliding over the digits of his hand, twirling and sucking.

“Merlin, you’re good at that,” Harry breathed as he withdrew his hand from Draco’s mouth and lowered his soaked digits between them, lifting Draco’s hips with his other hand. Draco smirked and his eyes twinkled mischievously as he wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist. Harry pressed a slick finger against Draco’s puckered entrance, probing gently until the finger slid inside. Harry bent to recapture Draco’s mouth as he worked the finger inside, pulling it in and out until he could slip another finger in. Draco moaned into Harry’s mouth as Harry’s fingers worked inside of him, his own hand continuing to pump Harry’s phallus until Harry found it too hard to concentrate on what he was doing.

Draco released his hold on Harry’s cock as the Auror began positioning himself above Draco’s stretched entrance. Harry pressed his lips against Draco’s temple as he entered his lover in one swift motion. “I love you,” Harry gasped into Draco hair.

Draco clutched at Harry’s back, digging his fingers into the Auror’s flesh, the pain slowly easing into pleasure as Harry waited for the Slytherin to adjust. Finally relaxing, Draco tightened his legs around Harry’s waist, urging him to move. Draco pressed his mouth against the hollow of Harry’s throat, whispering "Wô ài nî" over and over as Harry pulled out until only his head was inside Draco, and then thrust back in.

Harry dipped his head and kissed Draco’s already swollen lips fiercely, doing his best to keep his thrusting pace even and unhurried, despite the urge to slam into his lover until he cried out, until he could say those words in English. Harry reached between them and gripped Draco’s cock, pumping it in time with his hips, wanting Draco to feel what he was feeling as he moved inside of him.

The tight heat that enveloped Harry’s cock quivered and Draco gasped when his lover's phallus found Draco’s prostate. Harry shifted so he could thrust into that spot every single time. Harry worked his mouth lower as Draco’s fingers tangled in his black locks.

“Wô ài nî.”

Harry’s mouth latched on to one hardened nipple. He sucked on the little nub, sunk his teeth into it, swirled his tongue around the nipple until his lover was moaning uncontrollably, his cock thrusting into that tight heat, his hand working his lover’s hard shaft. Draco gasped as he moved to the other nipple, Harry’s pace becoming faster and more erratic, the heat gathering storm clouds in their bellies.

“Wô ài nî.”

Harry growled, slamming harder into him. Draco cried out, seeing stars. “Wô ài nî!”
Harry lifted his head and gazed down into Draco’s lidded-grey gaze as he labored above him.

Terrible love shown in Harry’s pleasure-clouded eyes.

Draco swallowed and bit his lip, desire, pleasure, and fear blurring his vision, sensations too many to name overwhelming him.

The hand gripping Draco’s hip wrapped around his pale shoulders, and Harry drew him up and held him close. Harry pressed his face into Draco’s neck as he slammed roughly and quickly into Draco, whispering indiscernible words against his flesh. Draco clung to Harry’s back, crying out as he came, climactic pleasure shuddering through his body as cum sprayed between them and poured over Harry’s hand. Harry thrust twice more, his hips jerking violently, and he bit into Draco’s neck to keep from screaming as he shuddered through his own climax.

Harry all but collapsed and Draco held him close.

“I danced in the rain once,” Draco murmured much later, after they had descended from their climactic bliss and cleaned up. Harry’s head, which rested in the crook of Draco’s arm and shoulder, shifted as he peered up at Draco with disbelieving green eyes. “In the Tien Shen Pass.”

“Really?”

“Mmhmm. I’d always wanted to, but…well, it’s was never something a Malfoy would do. So I never did.” Draco glanced down at Harry and smiled. “I told Dumbledore once, about wanting to do something crazy like that.”

“What did he say?”

“He laughed in my face.”

Harry loosed a laugh of pure delight, the sound deep and rich and completely unrestrained. Draco smiled again, cherishing the sound of it before continuing. “He laughed because he thought it was absurd that I thought it was absurd. I understood that after I had done it.”

“How was it?”

“How was what?”

“Dancing in the rain?”

Draco curled his lip. “Incredibly cold. And wet.”

Harry laughed again.

“I ended up getting really sick,” Draco went on to say. “There was fluid in my lungs, my throat was on fire, everything hurt like shite. And, Merlin, the headaches were murder. Eventually, I used the time-turner to go back to Dumbledore and ask him for medicine.”

“I take it he gave it to you?”

“Mmhmm.”

Harry shifted, tossing a stray lock of jet-black hair from his eyes. “I miss him.”

Draco closed his eyes so Harry couldn’t see the pain in them. “Me too.”

They were quiet for a long time, drifting into the lull of beckoning sleep as the minutes ticked by.

“Something broke inside of me that day,” Draco whispered into the gathering darkness, listening to the sound of Harry’s steady breathing, certain his lover had fallen asleep. “After all of this, I’d like to do it again.”

Draco thought he could hear the sound of rain and smiled sleepily, dropping a kiss on top of Harry’s black locks.

“Wô ài nî means I love you,” Draco murmured.

“I know,” Harry whispered back.

~*~


A/N:

Wô ài nî "I love you" Mandarin. A Chinese dialect 'most likely' spoken in the Tien Shen Pass.

Xiàn zài jî diân? "What time is it?" Mandarin. A Chinese dialect 'most likely' spoken in the Tien Shen Pass.

Paige: Thank you so much. I hope you enjoyed the update!

Queen Boeadicea: (Both Reviews) Thank you so much. For some odd reason, I really felt the need to drive that point home. Happiness doesn't come to those who deserve it, it comes to those who choose to feel that way. Very perceptive of you to point out that Draco was never taught that.

*smiles* Yeah, I think it was sweet of him too. I think that Severus understand and cares for his godson alot more than anyone gives him credit for. And it's good for Harry that he has friends who pay close attention to what's going on with him.

Thank you so much for your reviews and I sincerely hope you enjoyed the update!