Adult-FanFiction.org : Harry Potter

Nothing, Everything	By : Sasunarufan13 Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 10224 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter nor make profit of it. J.K. Rowling owns it.

Chapter List
- 5
- 6
- 7
Author's note: A couple of scenes in this one gave me quite a bit of trouble when writing them *sweatdrops* I hope it isn't too noticeable which ones they are *winces*
Thanks to the following reviewers: SickPuppy; Book_addict_89; JennivieveH (Glad to hear that!)
Warnings: Hm, nothing that really requires a warning I think; except some time skips
I hope you'll like it!
Chapter 6
"So have you remembered anything at all regarding your relationship with Mister Potter?" Silver inquired, turning the parchment and jotting down something else.
"No, nothing," Draco answered clipped.
It was a bit more than a month since he had woken up after the attack and Silver had invited him for a check-up. The Healer had cast several spells and aside from the persisting amnesia he didn't suffer any aftereffects of the attack.
"Well, it's been only a month," Silver muttered, writing something down. Dark brown eyes lifted from the parchment and fixated him with a studious look. "How are you and Mister Potter getting along, considering the circumstances?"
"Well, I suppose," Draco replied stiffly, wanting nothing more than to return to Malfoy Manor to brew the rest of the Muscle Relaxer Draught.
"Have you discussed your relationship?"
"We've had a talk about it, yes."
Silver raised an eyebrow, leaning back into his chair. "Overall, how are you settling in? Are there any problems with taking up your daily life?"
Draco released his breath slowly, crossing his legs. "I didn't lose all my memories," he reminded the Healer. "Just the ones dealing with my relationship with Potter, so it's not like I have any trouble going back to my daily life."
"How are your friends and family dealing with this?"
"They are under the impression that it's their right to stick their noses into my business," Draco replied coolly; his hands tightening around the arms of his chair.
Since Potter's birthday two weeks ago they had remarkably well refrained from urging him to talk more with Potter. It was as clear as day, however, that they expected him to remember something every time he saw them; 'subtly' asking him how he and Potter were doing. It was becoming quite aggravating. They seemed to think his amnesia would be gone from one day to the next and they had the gall – at least Pansy did; Blaise to a lesser degree – to look disappointed when he gave them vague answers to their questions.
No, he and Potter hadn't discussed their relationship in more detail since the party.
No, they hadn't discussed the baby yet either.
Yes, he was certain that he still remembered fuck all about his relationship with Potter.
He wished they would finally stop badgering him about it. It hadn't been even two months – couldn't they just give him a break?
"I'm sure they mean it well," Silver murmured, frowning at whatever he was reading in his notes.
Draco sneered; he didn't care whether they meant well – he just wanted to be left alone and not have to answer questions about Potter every damn time he saw them. You'd think they were the ones in love with the speckled git.
"I have a suggestion," Silver said, placing his notes abruptly on his desk.
Draco quirked an eyebrow. "What?"
"In some cases, it helps amnesiac patients if they see the memories they lost. Like pictures for example. They can help kick the part of the brain in gear where the memories are stored," Silver explained. "It's not a sure-fire way of getting your memories back – it might not even work, but it's worth a try."
"I already looked at some pictures and I remembered absolutely nothing," Draco retorted, shaking his head.
That earned him a contemplative look. "Have you tried viewing memories in a Pensieve?"
"No, I haven't," Draco admitted begrudgingly.
The Healer nodded. "You might want to give that a try then. It's possible that viewing the memories will bring forth the ones you lost."
"So it's not a permanent loss?" Draco asked sceptically.
Silver paused and cocked his head thoughtfully to the right. "I'm not entirely certain," he admitted and a vague hint of annoyance tainted his voice. For someone who always managed to find the answer to any illness plaguing a Malfoy, Draco's memory loss must be aggravating him now. "It hasn't been two months yet since you woke up and regaining memories can take days to weeks to months to sometimes even years. Sometimes they are indeed completely lost, but I wouldn't say with certainty that that is the case for you, Mister Malfoy. Viewing memories in a Pensieve would be a good start."
The only one who would have the suitable memories that he had lost, was Potter. Draco couldn't say he was looking forward to asking him about them.
"There are three owls waiting for you," Father mentioned offhandedly when Draco walked past the living room.
Draco paused in front of the doorway. "Anyone known?"
"Two owls I do not recognise, but the third one belongs to Potter," Father replied without looking up from the document he was reading. His tone was neutral, not giving anything away. "How was your visit with Healer Silver?"
"Fine. There are no other effects from the attack and I still don't remember anything," Draco answered, studying the older blond carefully.
"That's a shame," Father murmured and he sounded partly genuine, partly gleeful.
"You and Potter don't get along, hm?" Draco remarked, quirking an eyebrow.
So far Potter's interaction with father during their weekly lunch had been rather stilted and both seemed to prefer not acknowledging each other. It was a stark contrast with how Potter acted with mother; the two of them shared such a close bond, it could rival that of Draco's relationship with the older woman.
Dark grey eyes looked up at him. "As your mother would say: the history between us cannot be easily forgotten," he retorted, flipping the page he had been perusing. "He and I will never see eye to eye, I'm afraid."
Draco had lost all his memories of his relationship with Potter, but he had no trouble imagining that his father had been far happier when he had heard Draco's intention to court Astoria Greengrass than he had been when he had heard of his engagement to Potter. Not that Draco could really blame him for that.
"I'm going to check the post. I'll be here brewing for the rest of the day," he informed Lucius and the older blond nodded in acknowledgement; his attention fully focused on the document again.
Two tawny brown owls were waiting patiently for him on the perch near the door of the backyard. One carried a letter from a Mediwizard of Saint Mungos, requesting an additional batch of the stronger version of the Sleeping Draught. The other owl had a letter from an Irish Potions Master, containing the information of a couple of apothecaries which sold the more obscure ingredients. He sent a letter of thank you with the second owl and gave the letter of his agreement with the order to the first, who softly hooted before following the other owl outside.
"Now where's Potter's owl?" he murmured with a slight frown, noting the absence of the third owl.
Potter no longer had his snow white owl; instead he had acquired the complete opposite of his first one. His owl now had a striped black and white breast, vent and belly while the rest of his body was a sooty black colour. The first time Draco had encountered it in the house, the bird had scared the crap out of him when he had found it staring back at him from its cage with deep, reddish brown eyes.
The owl was nowhere near the perch or in the rest of the hallway and the frown on his face deepened. Where on earth could that owl be?
"Kin!" he called out and snapped his fingers.
Instantly a house elf with a long, pointy nose popped into existence in front of him. "Yes, Master Draco Malfoy?" he said, staring up at his master with dark brown eyes.
"Where's Potter's owl?"
Kin blinked. "Master Potter's owl is waiting in Master Draco Malfoy's lab, sir."
"What on earth is it doing there?" Draco asked perplexed, ignoring for the moment how the house elf was calling Potter his master.
Kin rubbed his hands together nervously. "Master Potter's owl always sits there when he comes with a message for Master Draco Malfoy, sir."
"Fine, you can go back to your previous task," Draco muttered, already striding towards his lab before the house elf had bowed and disappeared.
Candles lit up the darkened room automatically when he descended the steps and he found Potter's owl indeed waiting for him on an empty worktable, staring at him intently.
"All right, what do you have for me?" Draco sighed, holding out his hand.
What could possibly be this important that Potter couldn't wait until tonight to tell him about it?
The owl promptly stuck out his leg, offering the letter to him. Keeping a wary eye on the sharp beak, Draco accepted the letter and watched how the owl hopped over the table and then flew to the back of the room where …
Oh, that explained why Potter's owl waited here instead of on the usual perch. Draco hadn't noticed it before, but at the back of the lab there was a perch with a small bowl of owl treats attached to it. Right when he took his wand to levitate the perch upstairs – potions labs were supposed to be hygienic to prevent interference with foreign substances, damn it. Owl perches and treats weren't allowed to be near any potion ingredients – he caught the shimmer of the charm meant to create a barrier between the lab and the perch.
He didn't know whether it had been him or Potter who had set up the charm, but he supposed this meant his potions weren't in danger of being contaminated at least. He wasn't particularly happy with it, but at least the charm kept his lab safe.
Putting his wand away, he turned his attention to the letter in his hand and opened it. It was not a letter, but more a short note.
Draco
Something came up, which connects to your case. I'll be later home tonight.
There's still some shepherd's pie left from last night that you can warm up tonight for dinner.
Love
Harry
Well, that would guarantee him a couple of more peaceful hours to brew then. He wasn't about to complain about that, given the new orders he had just received.
"No reply," he told the owl when the bird stared at him expectantly.
Instead of flying away, however, the owl's stare seemed to intensify and he hopped onto the table again, spreading his wings a bit.
Draco snorted, vanishing the short note. "You're just wasting your time now. There's no reply."
The owl hooted softly in reproach, but he simply turned around and ignored it, walking to the shelf where he stored his cauldrons.
One more angry hoot and then the owl was gone and Draco could finally brew in peace.
He only became aware of how much time had passed since he had entered his lab when he was distracted out of his contemplation of the potion by a loud grumble. He blinked and halted the ladle right above the cauldron as another grumble resounded. With a grimace, he lowered the ladle on the workbench and used a Tempus Charm to check the time.
A quarter to eight. Fuck, no wonder his stomach felt strangely hollow. He hadn't had anything to eat or drink since that quick lunch right before he had returned to the manor.
"Guess I'm done for today," he muttered and set about cleaning the table.
A sample of the potion he was trying out was poured into a copper vial and put away in one of the lower cupboards. The rest of the potion was vanquished and the cauldron and the rest of the instruments were thoroughly cleaned before they were put away in their respective places.
After dousing the lights and spelling the door shut, he told his parents goodbye, ignoring mother's raised eyebrow when she caught sight of the time.
When he arrived at the house, he was surprised to see that there were no lights on anywhere. Sure, given that it was August it was still plenty light outside, but the house tended to get pretty dark around this hour.
"Potter?" Draco called out, removing his robes. There was no answer; only silence greeted him.
So he wasn't home yet then.
He warmed up the left-overs of the shepherd's pie and sat down with it at the table to read the Evening Prophet while ignoring the penetrating gaze of Potter's owl. It figured he would have an owl like that.
There was not something really newsworthy in the paper; there was talk about a wizard named Art Greenling wanting to run for the position of Minister of Magic, but even the paper doubted he would stand a chance against Kingsley Shacklebolt. He would have if it had still been Fudge, but Shacklebolt was too popular and too effective at his job for Greenling to be a threat to him.
He was just putting the dirty dishes into the sink when the fireplace in the other room flared to life loudly; the flames sputtering and crackling noisily, followed by some stumbling and a soft curse.
"Draco?" Potter called out as the noise of the flames died out.
"In the kitchen."
Potter entered the kitchen with a weird look on his face, still clad in his Auror robes. "The cases are all connected," he announced out of the blue, striding over to the kettle to make some tea.
"Didn't you already know that?" Draco raised an eyebrow, leaning back against the sink.
"We were around ninety percent sure, yes," Potter replied, waving his hand in the air before pointing his wand at the kettle to heat up the water. "But after today we're completely certain."
"Any particular reason for that?"
"You want some tea as well?" was the distracted question and Draco hummed affirmatively. Two cups were placed on the counter, joined by some teabags, sugar and milk.
"You remember we've been talking to the victims of the cases we suspected were similar to yours?" Green eyes regarded him expectantly before they glanced away when the kettle whistled, steam gently rising in the air.
A moment later the scent of raspberry and blackcurrant tea rose up and a cup was pressed in Draco's hand.
"Yes, did they mention something new?"
Potter rolled his eyes and snorted, leaning against the counter while blowing softly over his cup. "Most of them weren't really forthcoming with their information, not even when we showed them their testimony. Of the eleven other victims only four of them admitted that they lost memories of their romantic partner. One said he wasn't interested in anyone and six others claimed they just had lost some memories of a family member." It was clear from his tone that he didn't believe the other victims at all.
"And you don't believe them, because …?" Draco trailed off with a light frown.
Had these few years of being an Auror already made the dark haired man as paranoid as Moody had been?
"Because I could see they were lying through their teeth. They clearly didn't get the same lessons as you and some other Purebloods did," Potter stated matter-of-factly and before Draco could demand he explained what he meant with that remark, the younger man continued, "Sure, they didn't lie about the part of them being a family member, but they weren't just a family member. They're talking about their boyfriends and girlfriends."
"What makes you think that?"
"We'll have to interview those six again to confirm our suspicion, but it was the visit we got today and the four other testimonies which make it clear that the cases are all connected – even if some don't want to be honest."
"Still waiting for that explanation, Potter."
Potter sipped from his tea, before returning the cup to the counter and crossing his legs. "All right, so we already have four people admitting that they lost their memories of their romantic relationship, just like you," he stated, looking at Draco pointedly. The blond wizard merely stared back blankly.
"Anyway," Potter cleared his throat and went on, "A few hours ago we got a visit from a woman named Madeline Rook. She's a friend of Jonathan Passer – the victim who said he wasn't interested in anyone. It was the only one my team and I had an argument about, because while he gave the same description of the attackers are you and the rest, he didn't appear to have lost any memories."
"Then why include him in the list?" Draco inquired, sceptic about the reason.
"Because he actually does fit the profile! The only reason why there's no mention of a romantic partner being forgotten is because there hadn't been a relationship to speak of!"
"Then he doesn't fit the profile. If one of the criteria is forgetting your romantic partner and he wasn't in a relationship, he can't fit the profile," Draco argued and scoffed, crossing his arms. "I expected better from an Auror."
"Let me finish," Potter retorted sharply. "This is where Madeline Rook comes in. She was there when we interviewed Passer. Passer has apparently been in love for months with a woman from the Blackwood family. He had his entire courtship planned out and had told his friends he would soon initiate the courting. A couple of days later he was attacked. Rook realised something was off when Passer hadn't mentioned anything about Blackwood for several days afterwards. When she confronted him about it, he claimed not to know who she was talking about. She showed him the plans he had made, but he couldn't remember a single thing about them."
"But why attack Passer? I don't even recognise his name," Draco murmured, trying to recall whether he had ever heard one of the Death Eaters mention a name like that. While having fallen out of the Dark Lord's grace soon after the war really broke out, he thought he would have recognised a name like that.
"He was suspected of being a Death Eater. None of the Aurors assigned to his case ever managed to prove it, though," Potter admitted, picking up his cup again. "But apparently the suspicion was a strong enough reason for whoever is behind these attacks," he added, frowning heavily.
"So what? This group is going around attacking Death Eaters or suspected ones and coming up with nothing better than to remove memories of their relationships?" Draco wondered aloud.
What was the point of that? Sure, attacking out of revenge – misguided or not- that he could understand, but why remove the memories of a romantic relationship? What was the whole point behind that? What did they have to gain by doing that?
"Apparently. Why they do that is something we still don't know – and probably won't know until we catch whoever is behind this," Potter said frustrated and ran a hand through his hair. "We're going back to the six other victims tomorrow. Maybe we should focus on the people who knew about their relationship and could have a reason to harm them for it."
"You're going to interview the Weasleys as well then?" Draco smiled sharply, raising an eyebrow.
"Don't be ridiculous!" Potter snapped, glaring at him. "None of them would ever do something like that."
Personally Draco thought that the remaining Weasley twin might be capable of doing something like that. From what he had heard the older man never had quite recovered from losing his twin brother during the war.
People had done worse things for lesser reasons after all.
Tense silence reigned for a while before Potter sighed, his shoulders slumping a bit. "So, how did your check-up go?" he questioned, voice forcibly light-heartened.
Draco shrugged, putting his nearly completely drained cup in the sink. "It went well. There are no other side effects aside from the amnesia. Now if you don't mind, I have to check a few more books for my potion before I go to sleep."
"Wait!"
Holding back a sigh, Draco turned to face Potter, who was worrying his lower lip between his teeth. "What?"
"I, eh, there might be something that could help your amnesia," Potter started nervously, tapping his fingers against the counter. "What if – what if I put some memories of us in a Pensieve and you could look through them? See if maybe that might spark something?"
Draco stiffened. "Did you talk to Silver?" he asked sharply, anger spiking at the thought of Potter going behind his back to talk to his Healer.
Potter looked taken aback; his emerald green eyes widening a tad. "What? No! Why would I have - "
"Then why suddenly this suggestion if you didn't - "
"Hermione has been doing some research!" Potter cut him off exasperatedly. "We had lunch together today and she suggested that we could try putting memories in a Pensieve and see if that would trigger anything. What the hell does Silver have to do with this?"
"He suggested the same thing today," Draco answered stiffly, pursing his lips.
"Oh." Potter licked his lips and asked hopefully, "Well, what do you think of it? Do you want to try it out?"
"I suppose; it can't really hurt anyway," Draco muttered and left before Potter could insist they try it out now.
He had better things to do than stuff his head into a Pensieve to look at memories he had no interest in.
A couple of days later, on Sunday, Draco took a short break from entertaining Teddy by retreating to the room he had dubbed his bedroom now to read some correspondence of potential customers.
A knock on the door broke through his focus and he blinked, looking up from a letter of a witch requesting a love potion. "Yes?"
Potter opened the door and remained hovering in the doorway – without Teddy.
"You're sure it's safe to leave Teddy downstairs on his own?" Draco questioned, placing the letter next to him.
The dark haired man shrugged. "He's looking through a picture book now; he'll be distracted for a while," he told the blond and then his demeanour changed, his arms coming up to hug himself, resting on top of his stomach – which had become bigger now that Draco had a good look at it. "Eh, I put the memories into a Pensieve."
"Oh." Draco blinked, thrown off guard by how quickly Potter had managed to get his hands on a Pensieve and fill it with memories.
"Yes, so, eh, you can watch the memories if you want to," Potter continued, audibly nervous.
"I'll do it later," Draco said dismissively, turning his attention to the next letter waiting for him. Perhaps that one would offer him a more interesting potion to brew than the love potion.
He had thought Potter would return downstairs, but of course the younger wizard had to defy his expectations once again and remained standing in the doorway.
"Do you need something else?" Draco asked, a tad impatient.
Potter took a deep breath, seemed to steel himself and replied, "I have my next check-up for the baby on Thursday afternoon at two o'clock. We'll find out whether we're going to have a girl or a boy then. I'd like you to come with me."
Grey eyes stared at the man in front of him for a while and Draco mulled it over, checking mentally what kind of commitments he had for the upcoming week. There was nothing urgently to be done on Thursday he realised; he still had some brewing planned, but nothing that had an immediate deadline.
"Fine, I'll come with you," he muttered, not having any good reason to decline.
The warm smile he received in response made him feel quite funny for a while – he wasn't entirely certain whether he liked that.
Bloody Potter.
"Come on, where is it?" Draco muttered annoyed, pacing back and forth along the shelves, trying to find the elusive potions book he had been searching fruitlessly for, for the past twenty minutes. He checked his watch briefly and clucked his tongue; his irritation rising up a notch.
It was already a quarter past twelve and he still needed to pay and eat lunch before he would have to go to Saint Mungos to join Potter for the check-up. Mother would kill him if he didn't show up now. Last time he had had the excuse of being attacked and unconscious, but he had no such excuse now.
Where was that bloody book?!
"Draco? Is everything all right?"
Starting at the unexpected voice, he whirled around, ignoring the dark muttering of a wizard behind him.
Astoria stood at the beginning of the aisle; blue eyes gazing at him in surprise.
AN2: So what do you think of it? I hope it wasn't too bad!
Please leave your thoughts behind in a review; should you spot any mistakes, please point them out to me!
I see you all in the next chapter, which will be posted on the eleventh of August!
Cuddles
Melissa
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Nothing, Everything