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Ethereal Desire	By : Etherea Category: Harry Potter > Slash - Male/Male > Harry/Draco Views: 9460 -:- Recommendations : 0 -:- Currently Reading : 0
Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, nor any of the characters from the books or movies. I do not make any money from the writing of this story.

Chapter List
- 6
- 7
- 8
Ethereal Desire

Author: Etherea.

Rating: M (Sexual Situations and Foul Language)

Disclaimer: Blah, blah, blah. Don�t own, don�t sue. I am
penniless. In fact, I�m at the very verge of being kicked out of my house, so
yeah� you got the idea.

Author Note: So� Finally! It�s been quite a long time since the
last update. I�m really, really sorry, you guys. Regrettably, my life has been
going through some rough waters, and writing has been very difficult.
Nevertheless, here I present to thee ED, Chapter Six. Another long
chapter. Lots of explanations and even more questions arise... or so I think.
Unbeta-ed as of yet. I didn't want to make you guys wait any longer... I just
hope it's not too terrible! Also, I wanted to thank you all, from the bottom of
my heart, for such wonderful reviews. Your words have certainly helped me go
through some of my days, and I really, really appreciate it. So, keep
them coming! �cheeky grin�

In another note, I
guess I need to warn you first: There is some lemony action in this
chapter! It�s not really graphic or anything (I�m reserving the more
�heated stuff� for later on �when you read this you�ll understand why). Anyway,
I hope you won�t end up hating me after reading this chapter� What can I say?
The characters have a mind of their own sometimes. Oh well! I won�t babble anymore.
On with it!

Oh, oh� Wait! I
wanted to dedicate this chapter to Elder Amelia, from Adult Fan Fiction. Your
words meant a lot to me, honey. They made my whole week! Thank you so much!

And� thanks to
Enchant and the Seraph for Beta-ing this chapter! LOVE YOU GIRLS!

Enjoy! ;)

��

Ethereal Desire

Chapter Six

A Long Road Lies Ahead

�Severus, Draco, please, take a seat. I�m
afraid this is going to be a long talk.�

Draco stared at Dumbledore with angry
eyes for a few moments before directing the glare at his godfather. Severus
wore the same baffled �and somewhat aggravated- expression he had been sporting
for the past five minutes, so Draco didn�t find any reassurance from that side;
not that he was looking for it. Wondering if he would be regretting his
decision in the near future and trying to push aside the alarm bells going off
inside of him, he followed the Potions Master�s example and took the proffered
seat, although not without making it clear with his deep scowl that any
nonsense whatsoever from the old batty wizard and he�d be very glad indeed to
call off this recent, fragile truce. Dumbledore, to his merit, didn�t seem to
even notice the blond man�s silent threat.

�Tea, anyone?� The Headmaster had
conjured a tray with tea things and a basket full of pastries and such out of
thin air and was now pouring the hot, aromatic liquid into three cups. Before
Draco could object, there was a steaming cup before him on the desk and an
assortment of biscuits on a small plate right beside it.

�Eat, child. You must be starving,�
Dumbledore said kindly and Draco was somewhat taken aback with the old man�s
light-hearted demeanour after everything Draco had thrown at him� Not that he
regretted any of it, all the same. Albus Dumbledore had yet to explain a lot of
things, but to tell the truth Draco was too tired, too sick of everything to
argue anymore. Begrudgingly admitting to his stomach�s rumbling, he took the
cup in his hands; secretly relishing the warmth spreading from his fingers to
his arms, noticing just then how cold he really was. He took a drink of the hot
liquid and felt its light ginger flavour soothing him from the inside out, but
he still stopped the little sigh that threatened to escape his lips. He opened
his weary eyes �realising only then that he had closed them- to find the
Headmaster chuckling softly over his cup of tea.

�I never thought I�d see my office this
topsy-turvy again, but I suppose it�s been understandable in both cases. Fortunately,
there are very few things in life that can�t be fixed,� the old man said with a
hint of mystery, smiling gently at the blond opposite him.

�Albus, stop stalling and get on with it!�
Severus� tone was firm, if not a little exasperated. Dumbledore looked up at
him and shook his head slightly, apparently amused by the Potions Master�s
impatience.

�Very well,� he conceded as he returned
the cup to its saucer and folded his hands on top of his desk. �What I�m about
to tell you, Draco, is very difficult, maybe even impossible to believe, but
you have to promise me you�ll listen and try to trust me... But first, I must
ask you to answer a few private questions, if you�d be so kind.� Dumbledore�s
blue gaze was fixed on the blond; there were no signs of his copyrighted
playfulness now. Draco�s eyes narrowed, already feeling suspicious.

�Why should I answer your questions? Why should I trust you? You haven�t given me any
reason whatsoever to do so, and just because you pulled one of your tricks and
saved me from prison doesn�t mean that I��

�Child, your mother told me you�re
experiencing Animus Salutor. May I inquire when exactly the Visits started?�
the old wizard asked, not waiting for Draco to finish his diatribe. The blond
felt his brain suddenly halt all its processes and spool back. What the Hell�? He glared fiercely at
his godfather, but Severus looked as
puzzled as he was �never mind the sudden scowl at Draco�s accusing eyes. The
blond wasn�t deterred, though.

�Why did she tell you about that?! What
does it have to do with anything?!�
he snapped at both men as he put his cup down a little too harshly.

�I know it doesn�t make any sense to you
right now, but I need you to answer me so I can explain what�s going on.�
Dumbledore sat back in his chair, looking intently into the young wizard�s
eyes. Draco felt quite helpless for a second or two; this was certainly not a
subject he wanted to discuss at the moment �least of all with the man sitting
in front of him. He glanced warily at his godfather and noticed the almost
imperceptible nod of his head. Realising that he should give in if he wanted
some answers, he closed his eyes again. This
isn�t quite a square deal, he thought begrudgingly.

He took a deep, calming breath and let it
out slowly. �The first Visit occurred two weeks after graduation. Since then,
they have happened randomly. Sometimes, days would go by, even weeks without
having one; sometimes he would show up every single night for a fortnight� even
during the day at times.�

�He?�
Severus asked shrewdly, one elegant eyebrow raised. �I was under the impression
that you didn�t know��

�Believe me, some things are easy to
figure out,� Draco spat, his cheeks blushing a deep crimson. He felt like a
specimen on display and was starting to regret his decision. He grabbed his cup
and took a hasty sip of his tea to cover his uneasiness.

�I see... Do you have any idea why the
Visits started in the first place?� The old man asked affably as he brushed
pastry crumbs from his cindery beard, making it look like they were discussing
something as inconsequential as the weather� which Draco found quite annoying,
to say the least.

�If you know anything about Animus
Salutor, then you should know there�s not much information lying around about
it,� he said between gritted teeth; his cold eyes fixed on the Headmaster�s
face, searching for some clue as to where this� interrogation was leading, but was unsuccessful. �The few books
I�ve found explain the basics, that�s all; and to tell the truth, I don�t see
what else there could be about it. As for these questions, I still don�t
understand what they have to do with you forging my Mother�s memory,� he added
curtly, not trying �and not wanting- to hide his exasperation.

�Believe it or not, my boy, there is a connection between what you�re
experiencing and your inability to remember your Mother�s memory.�

�My inability?�
Draco asked with narrowed eyes, but Dumbledore ignored him and stood up from
his desk, letting out a little sigh. Stormy-grey and jet-black eyes followed
him as he made his way to the opposite wall of the room, things settling in his
wake, until he reached a broken shelf that righted itself in a flash; books and
other paraphernalia flying to accommodate themselves on top of it. In a matter
of seconds, the room was once again in impeccable order, with no signs
whatsoever of the earlier disruption.

�For you to understand Animus Salutor,
Draco, it�s important that you know what it is and how it works, of course, but
even more so, that you realise what it means,�
the purple-robed wizard said as he flicked his wand in indiscernible patterns
and a small door, just like a cupboard, appeared behind the shelf.

�I know
perfectly well what it all mea�� Draco started, aggravated, but Dumbledore held
a wrinkled hand up for silence and the blond didn�t have any other choice but
to close his mouth. His godfather�s glare wasn�t exactly supportive either.

�No, I don�t think you do, my boy, or you
wouldn�t have bitten Harry�s head off like you did this afternoon,� the old
wizard said airily as he searched for a particular book in his collection, his
purple-cloaked back pointedly facing his companions.

Surprisingly, it took more than two
seconds for this statement to permeate Draco�s bewildered brain. He stuttered a
little before he was able to form a coherent sentence.

�What!? What does Harry bloody Potter have to do with this?�

Although his face was set in an indignant
scowl, Draco knew that his initial hesitation gave too much away, and he hated
himself for letting his guard down like that. Dumbledore noticed, of course,
and he regarded the blond with a knowing smile before he locked the cupboard
again and moved back to his chair holding a tattered, brown leather-bound book
in his hands. He placed it on the desk near the blond wizard.

�Now, Draco, before I move on to the
facts, I need you to be completely honest. With yourself,� he added at Draco�s
annoyed face. �Can you really deny that Harry is involved in all of this?�

The blond aimlessly pondered what to say
for what seemed like an eternity. To be honest with himself �and damn the old
coot for it- he had to admit that he didn�t believe in mere coincidences or
lucky chances. Everything happened for a reason, no matter how hidden,
insignificant, or devious; everything had
a logical explanation. But the truth was that he didn�t know how he could explain what had happened today with
Potter without wandering into strictly forbidden territory; without sailing
into a sea of possibilities that were simply too surreal, too� absurd for him to even consider them. So
the matter still remained, unaddressed and unresolved: Was he truly prepared to
be honest with himself and face the facts? Did he really want to know what was
going on? Could he really accept the
truth, as unlikely or unthinkable or... horrifying
as it might be?

He finally decided to evade the
question.

�I understand your intentions,� he said
coldly. �But right now, all I want is an explanation and you are the one who
seems to have it; so until you decide to speak straightforwardly to me, I can�t
reach any conclusions.�

�Fair enough,� Dumbledore conceded after
a short silence. He waved his wand in different patterns -plates and cups
vanishing as he did so- before settling comfortably in his long-backed chair. �Animus
Salutor is a very special magical event. It happens only in the rarest of
cases, but its connotations are quite important indeed.�

�I think that much is pretty clear��
Draco drawled, and Dumbledore gave him a pointed look, silencing him in a
flash. The blond suppressed the urge to roll his eyes, settling with clenching
his jaw instead.

�In the beginning, Wizards and
Non-magical people lived in perfect harmony. The two groups respected each
other�s ideals and customs and were eager to learn from one another, to help
each other to the extent of their capabilities. It was a rewarding symbiosis,
and everybody was satisfied with the way things were... That is, until the seed
of greed was planted, and our differences started to be seen as threats on both
sides. Eventually, our big, happy family grew alienated. Each group followed
the wrong leaders; empires were built, and with them, the necessity to conquer
and defeat the minorities, the potential liabilities, became unavoidable. The
bridges between our two cultures were burned, and the persecution of what until
then had been an ally started; no one paying heed to our common origin and the
ties of friendship and respect that had once bound us.�

Draco was tempted to snap something along
the lines of his school days thankfully being over, but the piercing blue stare
held him in place.

�The segregation and the hatred reached their
peak during the Middle Ages. The most important Muggle power of the time, the
Church, tried to erase all bonds between us. The Inquisition was ruthless in
its methods, making non-magical people even more scared and wary of our kind
for fear of their lives. On our side, wizards and witches were being killed
without remorse. Those that managed to stay alive went into hiding and resolved
to ban any contact with the Muggles. But neither group predicted that a more
powerful, unstoppable force would thwart their plans: Love.�

�Does everything have to be a melodrama
with you, Albus?� the Potions Master scowled, obviously unimpressed by the
Headmaster�s little speech. Dumbledore looked affronted for a second before
shrugging off his former employee�s smart comment. He directed his total
attention back to Draco, who was visibly clinging to some innate sense of
propriety not to snap at him. Again.

Patience,
my boy. This is merely the beginning, the
Headmaster thought tiredly; his calm countenance not betraying an ounce of his
inner apprehension.

�This, Draco,� he continued, �is how
Animus Salutor was born; how exactly, nobody knows. Lovers who were forced
apart because of their different backgrounds found a way of being together, no
matter the distance between them. It happened mostly in mixed couples: a wizard
or witch and a Muggle; but there were records of the phenomenon happening
between purebloods and half-bloods or Muggleborns, in which case their families
forbade their union. Was the inherent magic in one or both of the parties
involved an important factor, I do not doubt it. Is magical prowess needed for
it to happen, I do not believe so. Maybe we, humans as a whole, simply
underestimate the power of our own emotions and feelings.�

�Wait� Are you trying to say�?� Draco
didn�t know what to say or how to react. Each one of the old man�s words felt
like knives going down his throat. He turned towards his godfather, but
Severus� face was a blank mask again and it was obvious that the acidic Potions
Master had decided to stay out of it this time. A little late for that, Draco thought bitterly. Dumbledore merely
continued his explanation as if the young wizard hadn�t uttered a word.

�Sadly, before the phenomenon was
thoroughly researched, it was considered �unforgivable� by wizards and Muggles
alike. In Wizarding society, every single book or document regarding Animus
Salutor was destroyed; the mere concept that true love between a wizard and a
Muggle could exist was simply abhorrent, and therefore, everything that proved
otherwise was deemed forbidden. But it was even worse for the Muggles. Not
being able to explain or understand the nature of the Visits but realising
their �magical� inherence, the ruling power condemned it as evil. Those foolish
enough to admit ever experiencing the phenomenon were persecuted, tortured, and
killed as heretics, and soon enough, Animus Salutor ended up recorded in Muggle
books as the worst of �demonic possessions�, in which a demon, or the �devil�
himself, had carnal interactions with a man or a woman�which, of course,
couldn�t be further from the truth.�

�Incubus and Succubus,� the Potions
Master muttered. �They are demons that appear to oblivious maidens and men at
night, according to Muggle theologians. I always wondered if those Muggle
legends had some magical origin, but I never imagined it was Animus Salutor
that spawned them.� There was something in his tone that hinted that that
wasn�t the only thing running through his mind at the moment.

�It wasn�t Animus Salutor that spawned
them, but people�s ignorance and intolerance,� Albus stated with a hint of
sadness in his voice. �Fear can taint the purest of things, and it was Fear
that made people, Muggles and wizards alike, deny the phenomenon so vehemently;
to the point of outlawing it. Today, only few know of its actual existence, and
for those who do, it�s mostly from personal experience, for they have acted as
Hosts; like you, Draco. But there�s a remarkable difference between you and all
of them, my boy�� Dumbledore trailed off; his face settling into a concerned
expression as he looked intently at the blond. �They all knew who their Other
Part was.� Those words hung in the air, oppressive and heavy, for long moments.

�No� That�s� that�s impossible! That
can�t be��

Draco barely noticed that it had been he
who had spoken. He was shaking his head; his eyes not really focusing on
anything. That didn�t make any sense! It had to be a lie; another one of this
bastard�s schemes. This couldn�t be true, goddamn it!

Soon enough, confusion and incredulity
merged into anger.

�I don�t believe you. I don�t know what
you�re trying to achieve with all of this, but I won�t fall for it, do you
understand? I�m sure Mother didn�t tell you anything; you just ripped the
information from her under Veritaserum, didn�t you? I don�t care what you�ve
done for me, and I hate that I was so na�ve as to confide in you!�

�Draco, please,� Severus interjected,
�just let Albus finish whatever it is he needs to say. If you don�t want to be
treated like a child then stop acting like one!�

�The Hell
I will! So I can hear more lies, you mean!?� the blond spat; eyes narrowed and
nostrils flaring. �You�re completely mistaken if you think I�m going to believe
this!�

�I never said it would be easy, Draco,
but I did think you would be more open to my explanations. Maybe it was na�ve
on my part; I thought I had seen
enough proof today. I was wrong. But Severus is right. Everything which has
been started must be concluded� for better or for worse,� Dumbledore muttered,
and his dejected tone placated Draco somewhat. He watched the old wizard open
the brown book and start going through its yellowing pages, finally stopping
somewhere in the middle. He skimmed whatever was written for a short moment
before he deposited it on the table once again, still open.

�Like I said, Animus Salutor is not an
isolated event; it�s a consequence of something much, much greater. It�s a
tool, so to speak; the last resource of a bond that needs to be fulfilled. It
is, Draco, what has kept you both alive. If the bond between you two weren�t so
strong, if the love you two shared wasn�t so powerful as to overcome the spell
cast upon you, I don�t believe you would have survived these last three years.�

Despite his conflicting emotions, Draco
felt an iceberg settling in his stomach. What in Hades� name was the man
talking about? He let his thoughts known, and Dumbledore pointed at the book.
The blond glanced questioningly at his godfather, but Severus merely raised an
eyebrow at him. Can you handle it?
his onyx gaze said. Draco picked up the book, anger and dread competing as he
did so, and read:

Nesci Amator

Latin. Exact Translation:
�Ignore (forget) the one that loves you�

157 A.D.

One of the most
accomplished spells of the time, Nesci Amator was considered to be an
infallible measure against infidelity. Very dark in nature, it is meant to
erase a specific lover from one person�s memory.

Nesci Amator tracks the
very start of the profane relationship and eradicates every single detail of
its evolution without endangering the memories of parallel events in the
recipient�s life. The victim will still remember the targeted person, but will
forget any complex feelings ever experienced towards them. Namely, the
recipient will not remember ever having an affair with said person, but will
maintain the knowledge of their acquaintance until the moment it started being
of a more intimate nature.

This particular trait makes
the spell not only a means of revenge against the unfaithful spouse, however, as
it is quite probable that the targeted party, once he/she has suffered the
rejection of the oblivious victim, will feel exactly as the caster felt when
discovering their forbidden liaison. Of course, the whole �infidelity context�
is merely a guideline of sorts. It was used by all kinds of parties in every
possible circumstance: political advantage, monetary gain, judicial matters�
namely, in any situation where there was a conflict of interests; a way of
�disapparating� a person out of the portrait without recurring to more drastic
measures.

As an historical anecdote,
some scholars still claim that one of Henry the Eighth�s closest counsellors
used to hire a dark wizard to cast the spell on the King whenever he fancied
himself �in love� with a commoner, as it seemed that the King�s unmatched
libido was considered a threat to the Muggle Crown. Regrettably, the
unfortunates were always led to their death, thus these allegations are solely
speculative and not to be taken seriously.

The efficiency of the spell
was confirmed in eighty nine percent of the cases; a very high rate taking into
consideration the rather delicate manipulations the recipient�s mind was
subjected to. Only eight out of a hundred cases resulted in extreme brain
damage, insanity, or total amnesia, but these unlikely occurrences were proven
to be related to an error in the casting of the hex, a very complex and
demanding procedure, and not the magic involved in the spell itself. However,
it is important to point out a minority of cases, around a three percent, in
which Nesci Amator seemed to be somewhat ineffective. Some attributed this
mishap to the presence of a particularly strong bond between the recipient and
the target, but these hypotheses were never corroborated...

Draco stared at the page for who knows
how long, feeling bile rise to his throat. His mind was swirling with
incoherent thoughts, but for some reason he couldn�t find the strength to give
them voice. Willing his hammering heart into control, he finally looked up at
the two wizards watching his every move.

�What the hell does this mean? What does
it have to do with me?� he said in none so gentle tones, nearly throwing the
tattered book over his head. Gratefully, Severus took it from his hands before
he could vent his frustration on it and started reading its contents himself,
though not before glaring icily at his godson for such barbaric treatment
towards an innocent.

�That, I believe, is the answer to some
of your questions, Draco,� was Dumbledore�s quiet, thoughtful statement. �Of
course, I would have to perform a test to confirm my theory, but I�m quite
confident my reasoning is correct. It�s needless to say that it�s up to you to
accept this as the truth, my boy. I can only hope that you see I�m not lying to
you. I, just like Severus, mean only the best for you both.�

�Please, drop the plurals already!� Draco
resisted the urge to pull at his hair. �I�m the one caught in the middle of
this! I don�t see anybody here but me being lied to...�

�This certainly explains a lot,� Severus�
drawl interrupted him; the Potions Master was looking at Dumbledore. �I studied
this spell a long time ago. Voldemort was fascinated with the psychological
effects it had on the victims; not to mention the fact that it was supposed to
�annihilate� Love. He thought that was quite� interesting, to say the least.�

�I don�t find that hard to believe,� the
old wizard said with a joyless smile. �Tom always got it wrong. People�s minds
and memories, even their lives, can be tampered with. People�s hearts, their
feelings� that�s a completely different story.� Draco looked from one wizard to
the other with his mouth open; incredulous at their apparent disregard for what
he was saying, or thinking, or feeling,
for that matter.

�Albus, just perform the test and get
this over with.� Severus gestured towards Draco. �Never mind him. He�ll never let himself see the
truth even when it�s biting him on the arse.�

�I�m here, you know?� Draco said
furiously. �I can decide for myself, Gods damn it! And the answer is no!! I don�t want any bloody test! This
is all rubbish!� Severus clenched his jaw; eyes narrowed.

�I thought you wanted to know the bloody
truth. You�ve whined and moaned about life being so unfair to you, and yet you
get to finally have the answers you�ve been looking for and you are so scared you won�t let yourself take the
chance.� Draco was nearly gaping now, outraged, but no words left him in his
indignation. Severus gave him one final disappointed look before he nodded at
Dumbledore; putting the old, brown book carefully on the desk.

The old wizard stood up from his chair,
moving to stand before the blond in a ruffle of purple robes; his wand out.
Draco took in the polished tool and stood abruptly, taking a few steps away
from the wizard and taking out his own wand, which had fortunately been
returned to him after the hearing was over. To no small relief.

�You�re not doing anything to me! Step back!�

�Have I ever given you any reason to
distrust me?� Dumbledore asked, ignoring the blonde�s sharp glare. �I promise
you, child, I�m not going to hurt you. I�m just going to� open your eyes,� he
said, holding his hands calmly in front of him with inquiring eyes shining on
his face and his wand concealed between his palms; looking very much like a scorned
child instead of the powerful, magnanimous wizard he surely was.

Draco knew in that moment that there was
no other choice but to relent; not this far in the game. Too many doors had
been opened, too many doubts raised. He knew he would not be able to live in
peace now; even with his reputation and his wealth apparently �restored�
�although, he didn�t want to think about the price he had had to pay for those,
either. Nevertheless, he had been given a choice; a choice to understand what
was truly happening to him. So far, nothing made sense, and Dumbledore�s
approach was only making it harder for him. Worse yet, if he wanted to be as
objective and reasonable as he knew he had to be, he had to admit that this
whole situation didn�t revolve around him alone. Even if he refused, Draco was
sure that that wouldn�t stop Dumbledore; not when it also concerned his idiotic
Wonder Boy. And, wanting or not wanting, Draco had to find out the truth. He couldn�t keep denying the obvious
anymore.

In short, he was screwed.

The blond lowered his wand, feeling
miserable and overwhelmingly tired and looking very much so, and wishing he had
never woken up that morning. �What do I have to do?�

Dumbledore smiled, satisfied.

�Just sit down, close your eyes, and
follow my lead,� he said cryptically. Draco did as directed, trying to ignore
the wild pumping of his heart. He took several deep breaths and forced himself
to relax, as impossible as that seemed.

At first, he didn�t feel anything; just
Dumbledore�s calm, soothing presence beside him; which, to tell the truth, was
sort of a surprise in and of itself. He could tell the old man was muttering
something but he couldn�t make out the words. Then, he felt a white light
engulfing him completely; he could sense its brightness even with his lids
closed, but it didn�t hurt his eyes. He felt it permeating every part of him,
sinking deeply through him, wrapping around his hesitant thoughts.

Catch
the snitch, Draco. He heard Dumbledore�s gentle
voice inside his head, and he was about to ask the old wizard if he had finally
lost his bloody mind when the image of a golden, silvery-winged little ball
appeared before his mind�s eye, fluttering barely out of reach. He felt himself
�that is, his mental self; he
wouldn�t know how to describe it- stretching out his arm towards it, Seeker
reflexes aflame, but just as he was about to close his fingers around it, the
blasted thing started racing forward, away from him, but �most abnormally-
pulling him along for the ride.

That�s when everything went wild.

All of the sudden, he was racing down
memory lane. Literally. All around
him, there were snaps and flashes of past experiences; things he had
practically forgotten. His whole childhood passed before his eyes �or rather, he ran through it. Everything was there: his mother�s voice when she sang
lullabies to him in his bed; his father patient frown as he taught him to fly
his broom; his lonely days in the manor as an only child, with no friends to
play with, killing his time reading and drawing in his bedroom. His birthday
parties, filled with children he didn�t really know and didn�t want to do
anything with; the death of Titus, his pet snake, and how much he had cried
when he had found him dead in his cage; the episode with the helishopters; the time he exploded his
toilet with a modified dungbomb and his mother�s subsequent fit�

But that didn�t seem to be what the
snitch was searching for -if it was
looking for something, as he presumed- because it did a twist and a turn, Draco
being dragged along, and then it was flying down different paths, different
times; dodging memories that popped up before them, all from different epochs
in his life: Hogwarts, his time as a spy, his seclusion in Greece. It kept
going up and down, turning here and there in this strange maze that was his own
mind, until it found an individual tunnel �Draco didn�t even know if that
description made any sense-; one that felt� isolated from all the others. Or
maybe not �isolated� per se, but it
was somewhat separated from the rest of his memories. They started towards the
tunnel, and suddenly, the golden snitch disappeared. Finally, it seemed he had
gotten to wherever he had to go. The �guided tour� was over.

See
for yourself, my boy. It was Dumbledore�s voice
again; resonating all around him. He took a cautious step forward, curious of
what he would see; curious of what his own mind had kept so� guarded, so
protected from the rest of the world, even himself.

The moment he �stepped� through, he was
assaulted by thousands of flashes of memories. If he hadn�t known he couldn�t
faint inside his own head, he certainly would have. Of utter shock.

It was his mental �archive� of Potter. He
had a whole bloody compartment of his mind entirely devoted to Harry sodding
Potter! He was perversely fascinated and horrified at the same time. What did
this mean? Was he obsessed with the idiot or something? Gods! What is wrong with me!?

He went through his memories, completely
amazed by the amount of detail in each one of them. That day when he had first
laid his eyes on the bound-to-be Gryffindor at Madam Malkin�s Robes for All
Occasions; how utterly� intrigued he
had been about that scrawny, small, visibly lost boy with eyes of molten jade
and hideous baggy clothes that couldn�t conceal his fearless spirit; how
intimidated Draco had felt by him and how he had tried to overcome those alien
feelings by flaunting his money and the power of his family. All those nights
he had spent thinking about him were there, as well; all those sleepless hours
he had spent racking his brain, wondering who that boy was and if he would have
the chance to meet him again, maybe even be his friend, just to have all his
petty illusions shattered with that fated meeting at the Hogwarts Express one
month later: the milestone of a decade of grudges and bad blood, the most
painful rejection he had ever suffered in his whole life. Just seeing that
moment again, so vivid and real, brought back the bitterness, ruthless and raw,
to his heart.

Every glare, every insult, every fight
was carefully stored here; even little details he couldn�t have ever imagined
he knew about, like the way Potter�s eyes seemed to turn a brighter shade of
green when he smiled �how bloody pathetic was that?- and the fierce lines of concentration that decorated his
brow whenever he sped towards the snitch. His knobbly fingers and their
clumsiness when chopping Belladonna root; the way his hair stuck up at odd
angles, making him look as if he had just been devilishly snogged; the way his
cheeks and neck would flush with passion and anger every time they crossed an
oath or two in the hallways...

The night in the Forbidden Forest
during first year popped up� Gods!
How bloody confident Potter had seemed whilst Draco had been on the verge of
wetting his pants! And they both had
been eleven years old! Even today, Draco still considered that night a slap to
his face. It was the very first time he had had to admit to himself what an
important ally he had irremediably lost and how hard he would have to work to
be in the same league as Potter. The Hippogriff farce, the Dementor Prank, the
Inquisitorial Squad, the Quidditch Captainship� it had all been for the same,
utterly pointless and moronic reason: a desperate need to feel Potter�s equal,
to know he was worthy, even when Draco knew, deep down, that he wasn�t; that he
never would be.

As everything turns out to be when put in
the right perspective, facing his own thoughts about the Gryffindor was not
easy in the least. There was so much envy, so much jealousy, so much
unnecessary loathing� But at the same time, there was so much restlessness, so
much hopelessness, so much� wanting
to be acknowledged by him; to be noticed, no matter how. Harry Potter
personified everything Draco ever wanted to be �powerful, cherished, admired-
at the same time as pointing out all of Draco�s faults just by contrast. Draco
realised he had merely followed the only role left to him where Potter was
concerned: while Potter was the hero, everyone�s favourite, the one destined to
live with the princess of the tale happily ever after, Draco was the evil
counterpart, the villain, the scoundrel; just because that was the only way
Draco could ever be on the same level as Potter. Not quite by him, but still� facing him, challenging him, opposing him. It
didn�t matter. At least Draco was there, with
him, somehow�

Gods! I�ve always�

I am�

Draco broke into a run down the long
tunnel; trying to get away from his memories, trying to escape his own
feelings. Out! I need to get out! Get me
out! But there was no response. He was surrounded by memories of Potter:
Potter sitting by himself under the shade of a tree by the lake, Potter
grinning over his goblet of pumpkin juice at the Gryffindor table, Potter�s
face in Umbridge�s office after they had raided the D.A., Potter�s eyes when
Draco had threatened to take revenge on his father�s name� He couldn�t block
them; he couldn�t stop them from popping up before his eyes. So he ran, away
but at the same time into more memories of tangled raven-black hair and
haunting emerald eyes. He ran and ran, thinking that there was no way out; that
he was locked there forever and nothing could ever stop him from drowning in
memories of Harry Potter, from sinking into the sweet misery of what he would
never have�

His breath caught in his throat, and he
stopped dead in his tracks.

In front of him, there was a black� wall.
It was so tall he couldn�t see where it ended, and as solid as diamond and
steel. It reeked with so much evil and hatred Draco could almost taste it. It
was calling him, taunting him to try and knock it down if he could, if he dared. Draco knew he had to get to the
other side, but the wall was too tall, the darkness too thick. He held out a
hand to touch it and he felt a bolt of incredible sorrow flash across his heart
the instant he got close to it. But he had to try; it was imperative that he
reached the other side.

He took a tentative step forward, feeling
the air abandoning his lungs with every inch he covered. He swallowed hard and
closed his eyes. Just do it. It�s only a
few more steps! He gathered all his courage, all his strength, and launched
himself against the wall.

The moment his fingertips grazed the hard
surface, he felt a sharp, overwhelming pain in his core; he was being ripped in
two. His fingers dug into the hard steel, and it was as if they were being
burned. He couldn�t breathe; everything was spinning wildly around him. When he
thought he couldn�t take anymore, he saw
them.

Glimpses, flashes; glimmering pieces of
memories were hidden behind that wall. They all rushed before his wide,
frightened eyes; lingering for the feeblest of moments before they disappeared
into the dark abysm surrounding him. He tried to hold on to them, but there was
nothing he could do about it; they all vanished, leaving him empty and
withering in sorrow and pain. The darkness was mocking him, laughing at him.
His blood ran like ice in his veins, and he was assaulted by horrible despair.
He knew he had to hold on; he had to resist� But the darkness knew he couldn�t,
that he didn�t have the strength to knock down the wall, and so it kept on
laughing, guffawing loudly in his ears, Unworthy�
Don�t deserve him� Fool� And Draco didn�t want to listen to it, but he knew
it was true. Gods, it was so true�

He collapsed onto the dark floor; his
memories out of his reach forever.

I
can�t� I don�t have the strength...

And the darkness laughed even louder,
spitting cold in his bones and pain in his heart. A disgrace� Worthless� Better off without you�So weak�

I
can�t do it� I�m too weak�

I�m
sorry� I�m so sorry�

After that, the darkness took over
completely and he knew nothing more.

��

�Open your eyes, my boy. It�s over.�

Dumbledore�s voice. Dumbledore�s office.

�What..?� Draco tried to sit up, but his
head felt as though it was about to explode, and he collapsed onto the chair
once more. Did he pass out? �What happened�? How long...?� he croaked. His
throat was a sandbank.

�Twenty minutes, maybe less. Take it
easy, Draco,� Severus said as he pressed a glass to his hand as he sat in his
chair. Draco brought the glass to his lips and downed its contents in two
gulps, feeling the slightest hint of valerian on his tongue. A mild sedative.
So they thought he was going to snap again, did they?

�You did well, Draco. I�m proud of you,�
Dumbledore said as he took his seat. There was a kind smile on his face. �My
suspicions are confirmed. Nesci Amator was cast upon you two.�

�You mean..?� Draco asked; he hadn�t even
thought of the possibility. Dumbledore pushed his half-moon spectacles over his
nose. �What would be the point of going through all that trouble to make you forget if there was going to be a
loose end?�

The blond remained thoughtful for a
moment.

�There was� a black wall,� Draco
muttered, grey eyes unfocused. �In the tunnel� in� Potter�s tunnel� and I
couldn�t� I knew it was all there, behind it� The visions I had seen were there
too� they are memories, I� saw them, but I couldn�t keep them �� he trailed
off, trying to digest what he had seen. Suddenly, his eyes opened wide as he
made sense of what he had just said. �There�s a wall in my head! There�s a
bloody wall in my head!�

�Calm down, my boy. What you saw it�s not
quite� real,� Dumbledore chuckled softly. �Everything you experienced �the
tunnels, the wall� even the snitch, was part of the spell I used to map your
memories. It was merely your subconscious trying to show you what is happening
inside your head in a way you could understand. Look at it as trying to discern
the meaning of a dream. Your mind suggests the symbols, but it�s up to you to
read them.�

�You were there,� Draco said lowly,
feeling violated in the most intrinsic way. �You saw it happening, and you didn�t
help me! Even when I asked you to get me out!�

�I showed you the path, yes,� Dumbledore
conceded, �but I didn�t push the memories forward.� He sat up in his chair,
arms folded over the desk. �It is your
mind, Draco. It showed you only what you
wanted to see. The minute you reached the place you were looking for, you were
on your own. I couldn�t take you away from it anymore than I could tell you
what to think. The only thing I could do was record your progress, which is
what the spell was meant for, and let you figure things out on your own.�

Draco rubbed his face tiredly. The old
coot was right. He had entered the
damn tunnel after all; he had
followed his curiosity. But how was he supposed to know..? How could he have
known

what he�d see there? He wasn�t prepared
for it! Hell, he wasn�t prepared for anything anymore!

Dumbledore must have read his thoughts
�as he always seemed to do- because he let out a long sigh before he spoke
again. �As I had predicted, there�s a wide gap in your memory, Draco; I�m
guessing of several months� maybe more than a year. Your subconscious showed it
to you as a �wall�, but it�s, in fact, a rupture in your trail of reminiscence
your brain can�t breach. Also, you were able to feel the nature of the spell;
your subconscious doesn�t understand the lack of information but it knows the
source �the cause, so to speak, at least indirectly. That, in itself, is very
important. If it wasn�t for the bond, you wouldn�t
be able to realise that there has been a disruption at all� even at an
unconscious level.�

�But� that doesn�t make any sense! I
remember everything I�ve done in the past! Well� everything except yelling at
my mother!� Draco said, exasperated and confused. He vaguely wondered if the
valerian essence was working at all� Maybe he was beyond help at this point;
chemical or otherwise.

�There are several types of Memory
Charms,� Severus said as he pinched his nose. �Obliviate is, perhaps, the most simple and efficient of all. It
erases every single thing stored in the short-term memory, which is what makes
it such a powerful tool for the Obliviators, but it can also access information
in the long-term memory storage, so it is possible to manipulate one�s memory
of the past. However, Obliviate can�t
single out information. It wipes out the complete line of reminiscence without
discriminating any details. The main difference between Nesci Amator and other
Memory Charms is that it uses specific feelings to locate and pinpoint which
memories it must erase; conscious
feelings�� He trailed off for a second or two, scratching his chin as he
pondered something. �The only reason I can think of why you can�t remember that
conversation with your mother is because your love for Potter was the strongest
thing in your mind at the moment, and the spell read it as a relevant factor
and wiped out the complete event. There�s the possibility that other memories
such as that were erased as well.�

To the older men�s surprise, Draco let
out a bark of laughter.

�You do realise how hilarious that sounds,
don�t you? Whatever I did in the past with Potter, it was certainly not about love�
Maybe lust or something, but even that
I find bloody ridiculous.� Draco couldn�t believe he had managed to say those
words without sounding the least unsure of himself.

�Yes, just as I find it quite ridiculous
how you two were at the very verge of snogging each other senseless in a public
lavatory and made it look like you wanted to slit the other�s throat open,� the
Potions Master hissed; obsidian eyes locked with narrowed grey. �Deny it all
you want, Draco, but deep down you know it all comes down to Potter. With you,
it always does. You�re just too
stubborn to accept it,� he said between gritted teeth.

�Boys, boys! Your bickering is hardly
necessary at the moment!� Dumbledore shook his head slightly, amused, whilst
the two former Slytherins glared at each other. �However, Severus does have a
point. What bothers you more, Draco? Knowing that your memory has been
modified, or admitting to yourself that you�re bonded to Harry; that you two
once shared something special, as unlikely as that sounds to you now?�

Draco was about to answer, but the old
wizard didn�t let him. �This whole ordeal only proves that our hearts always
know where we belong, no matter if our foolish minds can�t remember. I�ve
sensed the nature of the bond you two share, and it�s very powerful indeed.
Just the fact that you�re experiencing Animus Salutor says as much.�

Dumbledore regarded the blond with a
candid smile when he noticed that Draco couldn�t seem to find anything to say
to that. �Whoever did this to you, they never expected your love to be so pure,
so great. That was their mistake. And that fact is, gratefully, your salvation.
You can�t keep denying what your heart desires, Draco; it would be against your
very self to do so. I understand how terrifying this must be for you, but the
only thing you can do about it is to follow your heart. I know how difficult
that is for you Slytherins; always so cold and wanting to be in control of
everything in your lives.� Dumbledore looked at both of them over his half-moon
spectacles with twinkling blue eyes.

�Let�s say I am... willing to go along with this,� the blond finally said, letting out
a long exhalation. �Is there any way to reverse the spell?� Severus glanced
briefly at the old man.

�I�m afraid that�s impossible to tell at
this point. When you told me about the �visions� I had thought it could be a
possibility, taking into consideration how powerful you two are. We know the
answer to that now. I imagine the bond tried to preserve some memories, but how
many and for how long...� The Potions Master couldn�t look at his godson�s
face.

�Oh, that�s simply marvellous!� Draco spat, standing up from his chair. He felt like a
Dragon locked up in a tiny cage. He felt helpless, and he hated it. �I had a
piece of my mind ripped out of me and the only lead I have to figure out what
really happened is a spell created by hysterical women two thousand years ago,
which can�t be reversed? What the
hell am I supposed to do now? Surely it�s very easy for you to sit in front of
me and bombard me with all these theories and facts! But what about me? All of the sudden I�m bonded to
Harry sodding Potter and I can�t even
remember why or how! I denied my family, I turned my back on everything I knew,
and I don�t have a bloody reason for it! Can you even begin to imagine what that feels like?� Gods! Why didn�t they try Avada Kedavra instead! the blond thought
as he tried to will his breathing pattern back to normal. He was failing
miserably.

�Draco, don�t focus on the things you�ve
lost; it will only get you down when you need all your strength. Think instead
of everything you�ll gain.� Dumbledore offered with a smile. �We all lose special
moments in our lives, but it�s the new ones, the events that await for us
tomorrow, that truly keep us going.�

The blond knew that those words were
meant to be a balm for his tumultuous soul, but for some reason they didn�t
work out very well.

�That�s exactly my point! Tomorrow! What
am I going to do tomorrow!?� He threw
his hands up in exasperation and let them fall on his thighs with a loud
�snap�. �I know what a bond of this kind means; I know my bloody life depends
on finding a way to be close to him! But how in Hades� name am I going to do that!? I can�t just show up at Potter�s
house and tell him �Oi Mate! You will never believe this, but you are, in fact,
my Soul Mate. Neither you nor I can remember, but that�s highly irrelevant. Oh,
right� I forgot. We need to shag or we both could die!��

�Well, the phrasing is not quite subtle,
but I truly believe that Harry will be more receptive than you imagine,� the
old man chuckled slightly; Draco was appalled to realise how annoyingly easy it
came to the old coot. �You have to remember, Draco, he�s going through the same
thing you are going through... except perhaps that he probably doesn�t
understand a knut about what�s happening to him. It�s your job to help him see
the truth.� Dumbledore�s eyes were twinkling wildly.

�Oh, but of course!� the blond snorted.
�I guess he will just forget the fact that he�s engaged to Ginny Weasley! I�m
sure he won�t mind throwing his perfect little life away to accommodate me,� he added with a caustic sneer.

�Potter�s
engaged to Ginevra Weasley?� Severus actually smirked at that.

�Don�t tell me you didn�t know�The
wedding is supposed to be the social event of the year. Their story is quite
the fairy tale, it seems,� Draco scowled from his spot by the large window,
feeling a bolt of insane jealousy in the pit of his stomach and hating himself
for it. Right in that moment, he wondered if he had read his own emotions wrong
and it hadn�t really been envy that
he had felt when he had read that news... but he realised then that he would go
completely mental if he started psychoanalysing every single emotion he had
felt towards Potter during the last three years.

�Well, well... I guess it won�t be such
an easy task for you after all,� Severus smirked. �But look on the bright side.
You can take it as a test of your legendary powers of persuasion,� the pale man
added with a drawl; earning himself another glare from Draco, which he
absolutely ignored. The Headmaster had the grace to look downcast.

�That certainly makes things more
complicated, yes,� he said as he twirled a silver strand of his beard between
his fingers. None of the three wizards said anything for a while. It was Draco
who finally spoke, giving voice to his thoughts.

�About that book� it didn�t actually
explain the procedure for the Nesci Amator spell. Where can we find a book that
does? Maybe there�s a way to reverse it that you don�t know about.� He didn�t
want to feel hopeful, but hope seemed to be the only thing he had right now.

�Nesci Amator is an ancient spell,�
Severus answered. �I know it was described thoroughly in a fifteenth century
dark grimoire, the Chartae Nefasti, or �Unholy Letters�. There were
only five copies made of that book. The original is being guarded in the
Department of Mysteries...�

�Don�t tell me,� Draco interrupted in a
dejected, flat tone. �The original is completely inaccessible and the copies
are lost.� Severus didn�t respond, which was enough response.

�Well, somebody found one,� Draco said with narrowed eyes; hands held
tightly behind his back as he looked out the tall gothic windows. �I need to
take a walk,� he informed in crisp tones after a short pause, turning on his
heels to leave the round room without more protocol. Dumbledore�s voice stopped
him before he could reach the door.

�Wait a second, my boy.� He walked
towards the blond, rummaging for something inside his robe pockets; Draco
wondered how many things the old man carried around in his clothes. Albus
produced a black book, and with a smile, offered it to the blond. Draco took
the book hesitantly, looking quizzically at the Headmaster.

�Let�s just say it has been stray for far
too long,� the old man said cryptically, winking at him in the same fashion he
had done in the courtroom.

Draco didn�t reply. He merely nodded
before opening the great oak door, stepped out, and closed it firmly behind him
without a backward glance.

��

�Are you sure it was the right thing to do?�

Minutes later,
Albus and his former Potions Master were the only occupants in the round
office. Fawkes had arrived shortly after Draco�s exit �the phoenix detested
Portkey travels, and always took the chances for a nice flight around. The
Headmaster was now petting his familiar and offering him nice treats for his
outstanding performance that morning in the courtroom, which the bird accepted
gladly. Severus, for his part, was standing by the large windows in the same
spot his godson had occupied moments before, looking at the sun setting behind
the faraway mountains; his hands behind his back and his face settled in a
slight frown.

Albus looked up
at his prot�g�. �Time is the only one that knows the answer to that question,�
he responded to the black-haired man�s back. �Either way, something had to be
done; it has been too long already... I fear for their wellbeing,� he added
thoughtfully.

�I just hope
this won�t destroy them instead,� Severus said wearily, rubbing the bridge of
his nose. �I know Draco. He won�t stop until he finds out the whole truth. What
worries me is Potter. The Gods know I�m having trouble coming to terms with
this, and I�m not even in the middle of it. I don�t want my godson to suffer
more than he already has, goddamn it!� Dumbledore appeared at his side and
placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder.

�We must have
faith, Severus. In the darkest of nights, the stars are always shining, even if
they�re hidden behind the clouds. Their love is great. It will find a way.�

�Do you have any
idea of who could have done it?� Severus asked flatly, his eyes set on the
darkening horizon.

�Your guess is
as good as mine, Severus. At this point in time, we may never know. They had
many adversaries during the war; they still do,� the old wizard admitted. �But
right now, the most important thing is having the boys understand what is
happening to them and how they cope. The rest will be sorted as it comes,� he
mused, watching the wandering students return to the castle for dinner.

�The thing is,
and Merlin help me, Albus, but I think that what happened to them was for the
best.� Severus turned to look at his Mentor
for the first time; lines of apprehension marring his pale face. Albus smiled
at him in understanding.

�The risks they would have come across if
they�d been together during the last days of the war would have been great,�
the older wizard conceded, �but I think that they were prepared to face them.
We only have a vague idea of how long they�d been together before their
memories were modified, but it surely was long enough for their relationship to
grow and their bond to settle... not to mention that they managed to keep their
affair a secret during the entire time. They knew the stakes, but they also
knew what they were doing. I am sure they would have been alright,� Dumbledore
finished firmly.

�Did they, really?� Severus asked, his
eyes unreadable, as he turned to look out the window again. The Headmaster knew
exactly what he had meant, and regarded his prot�g� with a raised eyebrow
before releasing a long sigh.

�I figured something was going on with
Harry, but as with many other things, I just allowed him his privacy, hoping
that he�d come to me whenever he felt ready. It was a part of his mind he protected
at all costs, at all times. I tried to reach it during Occlumency lessons on a
few occasions, but he had placed enough barriers to mark it as forbidden
territory, and I couldn�t just rip the information out of him. It wasn�t until
one night that I caught him running back to Gryffindor Tower
minutes after I had seen Draco sneaking into the dungeons that things fell into
place. The need for secrecy, the wariness... it all made sense,� he finished in
a tone hinting regret.

�Then you must have known that something
had happened to them,� Severus stated in a harsher tone that he intended; his
jet-black eyes locked with blue. �You didn�t think that they should be
together, did you?� He made it sound like a question, but it was truly a
statement.

�Did I fear at the time that their
relationship could endanger both of them? Of course I did, but I didn�t believe
Draco was not worthy of Harry, if that�s what you�re thinking. My mistake was
to think that what they had was a fleeting, juvenile crush; that they were
merely experimenting as it�s so natural amongst teenagers.�

�They were
not normal teenagers,� Severus said
between gritted teeth.

�Certainly not. But didn�t they, didn�t we want them to have a normal
adolescence, even when they were growing up in a world at war, when they had
been burdened with such hard responsibilities?� The Potions Master only made a
noncommittal sound, but Dumbledore knew that Severus realised he was right.

�When things got back to normal �when
Harry stopped guarding himself against me, that is, I thought it was because
whatever they had had was over, and the most logical explanation was that my
previous suppositions had been correct. It wasn�t until Narcissa told me about
Draco�s Visits that I realised how wrong I had been and that something terrible
had been done to the two of them, but I couldn�t make out what exactly it was
at the time.�

�Hence the memory,� Severus muttered out
loud, realising just then that his anger wasn�t directed at Albus but at the
helplessness of the situation, and he sighed, exhausted. He hated feeling
powerless, which was exactly how he felt right now, knowing that his godson�s
life had been thwarted so ruthlessly; being unable to come up with any
solutions but -just like Dumbledore had said- giving time to Time and having
faith it would all turn out alright. Draco was right. He couldn�t begin to
imagine what must be like to have a part of one�s soul torn away like that.

�Narcissa was an intelligent woman, but
you knew that already,� Albus said with a swift glance in the Potions Master�s
direction. Severus� face remained a mask of stone. �However, I do wonder now
what would have happened if the disclosure of that memory hadn�t been
necessary.�

�Well, taking into consideration today�s
spectacle, I think it would have been only a matter of time before they��

�Don�t confuse knowledge with acceptance,
Severus.� At the perplexed �although unmistakably annoyed, if that was even
possible- frown on the Potions Master�s face, Dumbledore elaborated, �Right now,
Draco knows the truth. He knows that
Harry is his Soul Mate, and he knows that he must be with him because his life
depends on it. But he hasn�t truly accepted
it. What he said was quite right. He has suddenly found himself with this
profound revelation but he truly doesn�t understand it. How could he, when he
can�t remember what made him fall in love with Harry Potter in the first
place?� He gave a wry chuckle, which surprised the Potions Master somewhat.
�Right now, they are puppets, Severus. They�re being manipulated by a bond that
needs to be fulfilled but with implications they can�t really see; not until they truly open their
hearts and find the motives that made their former selves give in to each
other. They will have to literally
fall in love all over again. And until that happens, everything that Animus
Salutor stands for between them will be completely irrelevant.�

�I thought you said that their love was
great enough to find a way,� the black-haired wizard stated dryly.

�Oh, but it is! They just haven�t
realised it yet,� the old man said with a wink. Severus suppressed the desire
to roll his eyes at the batty wizard. A walking contradiction if he ever met
one. His pale face suddenly turned serious, almost troubled.

�Albus� Do you think..?� He couldn�t
finish his question. He felt he was betraying the memory of the only woman he
had ever loved just by thinking about it, but doubts were sneaky serpents.
Gratefully, Albus didn�t need elaborations.

�Maybe the question is not what I think,
but what you think, instead?� he
asked in turn. The Potions Master�s only response was to go back to his quiet
contemplations, missing the slight frown that graced the Headmaster�s brow.

A not so uncomfortable silence settled
between the two wizards after that, broken only by the occasional trills coming
from Fawkes� perch. Outside, the sky had turned a purplish blue and the torches
inside the office and the ancient fireplace were now lit, bathing the round
office in soft caramel hues. It wasn�t until the magical clock on the wall
chimed the time for supper that either of them spoke.

�Dinner is about to be served. Will you
and Draco be joining us, Severus? I believe there�s blueberry pie for dessert
tonight.�

The Potions Master was taken away from reminiscence,
and clearing his throat, he shook his head hastily. �No, we must get going; it
was a trying day. Thank you for the offer, though,� he said casually as both
wizards walked towards the door. Dumbledore didn�t miss the uncharacteristic
glimmer in his obsidian eyes, but just as so many other times, refrained from
inquiring on his findings. Severus Snape was a very private man, and it wasn�t
in Albus� place to deny him his secrets.

�Very well. I think you�ll want to go
looking for Draco in the rose garden. Have a good evening, Severus.� The old
wizard placed both hands on his shoulders. �And don�t worry too much, young
man. That�s my job.�

Despite the conflicting emotions inside
his chest, Severus did roll his eyes at the old batty wizard this time.

��

The long, softly lit corridors appeared
unchanged before his eyes. The same solid, ancient grey stone decorated floors,
ceilings, and walls, and every now and then he would find an enchanted suit of
armour gracing a corner or feel his progress being watched by the countless
portraits hanging around him. The tall gothic windows beheld the same scenery
of the school grounds. The magical staircases still played their thoughtless
games, twisting and changing their course at the least expected moment, and the
air still resonated with the indiscernible murmurs of hundreds of students
going about. Hogwarts was exactly as he remembered it: firm and imposing but
strangely welcoming at the same time.

However, as he walked through the old
hallways of his youth, turned at hidden doorways, and carefully stepped over a
tricky step or two, he couldn�t prevent a strong feeling of alienation from
overwhelming him. This had been his home for seven years; the place where he
had grown, where the person he was now had been originally sketched and
moulded; the place that had housed so many of his dreams, victories, and
disappointments� and yet, Draco realised, it all felt so distant now; so
disappointingly foreign and out of reach, as if the boy that had walked these
grounds ten years ago had been somebody else. Ironically enough, every corner,
every nook, every turn brought back a memory. Hogwarts was the greatest
monument to his past; a reminder of all those things he had once taken for
granted and that he now knew were never coming back.

His feet carried him to the main doors of
their own volition. He passed several students in his wanderings, but he was
too absorbed to notice the questioning glances and disguised pointing in his
direction. It wasn�t until he found himself deprived of the soothing warmth of
the magical castle and he noticed the soft twilight stretching from the west
that he realised he was outside, on the serpentine path leading to the
greenhouses, and that night was rapidly approaching. How long had he been
drowning in melancholy? It was certainly very un-Slytherinish of him, and he
couldn�t prevent a wry smile from sneaking to his lips at the thought.

He looked around and caught sight of the
ivy-covered iron fence several feet from the path and the precious bushes
splashed with tiny specks of red, white, and yellow beyond it, gleaming with
pearly hues in the last rays of the day. Without a second thought, Draco made a
beeline towards the wrought iron gate; it creaked and sheered as it opened,
betraying its years. Entering the green sanctuary, he took a seat on one of the
white marble benches scattered around the rose garden and sat facing the sunset
amongst the delicate rose buds. Their strong essence flooded him, bringing a
sense of familiarity he hadn�t felt since he had left the Headmaster�s office.
The birds sang their goodnights to one another as they flew away looking for
shelter, and the tall willows protecting the secret spot from the outside world
rocked languidly with the breeze, creaking and whistling with age. It was a
beautiful nightfall, and he felt, for the first time that day, at peace.

Draco took out the black book from his
robe pocket. On closer inspection, he realised it wasn�t a book, but a journal.
It wasn�t very old, but it showed signs of continuous and careful ownership. He
noticed the lock was a magical one, and without hesitation, he took out his
returned wand from his robe pocket and muttered �Alohamora�. As expected, there was a soft �click�; an honest
invitation for him to go on and peruse its pages.

His hands shook slightly as he opened it,
and he could feel his heart racing inside his chest, but he was not deterred.
The first page was blank, so he turned to the next. This one was, like its
precedent, all white parchment; and the next, and the next, and the one after
that. Draco felt a strange sense of disappointment taking over. The whole book
was blank; there were no signs of it ever knowing ink or charcoal. He held it up
and shook it, feeling sceptical and pessimistic already.

From
somewhere in its middle, a white envelope came fluttering down onto the floor.

The blond picked it up, frowning. It
didn�t have any markings either. Curiosity getting the better of him, he tore
the edge and took out a folded sheet of parchment. He opened it up and nearly
fell off of the bench, feeling tears rushing to the corners of his eyes without
notice.

On the pristine whiteness of the parchment,
written in golden ink that was practically invisible in the scarce light, was
his mother�s handwriting, tarnished by weakness and disease:

My Dearest, my All, my Little Dragon,

If
you�re reading these lines, it means Albus Dumbledore has kept his promise. I
am forever grateful for that. But at the same time my heart cries, for I
couldn�t be the one to carry you through these trying times. How I wish I could
be there for you right now, my Love...

There
is so much I have to tell you I don�t even know where to begin. I only hope
that once this humble letter is finished, you will be able to find it in your
soul to forgive me. I want you to be
certain, to be absolutely sure, that for everything I did or didn�t do my only
reason was your protection; please, don�t condemn a mother for wanting to keep
her only son out of harm�s way. Now I know that my decision has caused you
incredible pain and that will haunt me for the rest of my days and beyond. Once
again, my Child, I ask for your forgiveness.

You
were so, so happy, Draco. Before him, you never smiled. I can go as far as to
say that you didn�t smile even in the privacy of your own thoughts... but that
all changed when he came along. Your smiles told of joy and fulfilment, of
companionship, of completion. You smiled like you were the bearer of the most
amazing, beautiful secret in the world. Your eyes had never shone like that,
and I could tell, just by one look, that he was the most important thing in
your world. He was the light shining down your heart, and you were resolute to
do anything to keep that light alive... even risk your own life. That was how
great your love for him was; how I wish I had let myself see it back then.
Today, all I have left is my guilt and regrets.
Nothing I did prevented you from being taken from me in the end, and
instead, you were the one who had something so special and priceless taken
away.

I
sinned of omission, my Son. I let my own fears and selfishness get in the way
of your happiness. A mother should never have the right to decide her child�s
destiny like that, but I was scared and helpless. I thought I had the right
reasons at the time, but now I know they were all excuses. Every time I talked
to you I could see how hollow you were, how desolate, how empty. And even when
I knew the truth, even when I knew I was the one that could save you so much
pain, I said nothing, thinking that it was for the best; hoping you�d move on
with your life, oblivious to the horrible damage that had been done to you. Of
course, I couldn�t have been more misled.

Still,
the day you came to me asking about the Visits I held my tongue. I saw your
despair, your fear, your confusion, and yet, I didn�t give you the only answer
you should have gotten from me: the truth. I was terrified to realise the
gravity of the damage that had been inflicted upon you; even when I knew you
were in love with him, I had never imagined you had found your Soul Mate. It
was such a powerful revelation that I found myself at a loss as to what to do.
What could I have said to you, my Love? How could I tell you that you had been
wounded so deeply, when you yourself didn�t know it? What was kinder: to lie to
you and let you have hope for the future, or to break your heart with a truth
you wouldn�t understand? Praying that I was doing what was best for you, I
chose to lie and keep you in the dark until the day it would be inevitable to
face the facts that would come; a day I hoped I would be able to see so I could
tell you to your face why, with my silence, I was an accomplice to those who
hurt you... But now I know I won�t be granted that chance, and that, my Son, is
my penitence.

Instead,
I only have these meagre words to express how sorry I am. I should have pushed
aside my reservations and let you decide your fate, no matter how much pain it
could have brought you. I feel so irreparably torn inside for having doubted
your strength, your inner light. You�ve always, always made me proud, Draco,
and I should have trusted without a doubt, I should have remembered, that there
is nothing in this world that can keep you from what you want. It was this
unwavering resolution that brought you two together, and I am certain that it
will be this outstanding trait of yours that will show you your way home once
again: right by his side.

I�ve
been keeping this journal safe for nearly two and a half years, now. It has
remained a candle in times of uncertainty, giving me strength whenever I ran
out. It is a statute of the power of Love and the wonderful things it creates
and nourishes; a reminder that, when one feels strongly enough, when one loves
deeply enough, nothing is impossible. You have taught me that.

Due
to the intimate thoughts recorded, its owner thought it wise to protect it with
special charms; I�m sure you�ll figure out a way to access its contents. I
denied you the answers once, my Son; something I�ll regret until my time comes.
Now, I�m returning to you one of the keys to your heart, hoping it�s not
already too late, and that it will give you some of the answers you�re looking
for. The other key, the most important one, is right within you; you just have
to want it found. And when you do find it, you do whatever you have to, my Son.
Nothing can separate what Love has brought together. They tried to break you,
but they didn�t know the power within you, Dragon. Do not let them win! Fight
for what�s meant for you and for you alone!

It�s all about Love; nothing else matters. I
understand that now.

Sincerely,

Your Mother.

A warm, round tear crashed with the
softest of sounds onto the white parchment, smearing the ink and leaving a
golden stain where the word �Sincerely� had once been. His heart ached so much
he thought it would burst open. Surprisingly, he wasn�t angry or disappointed
at his mother�s words. All he could feel was that unfathomable emptiness he had
felt since he had learned about her death. He held the letter to his chest,
pretending that by touching something she had held in her hands he could feel
her; imagining that it was her gracious, delicate frame he was holding instead,
smelling her sweet perfume, and resting his face in the soft curls of her hair;
pretending, for one last time, that she had never left.

He didn�t
think he had ever needed her more.

Draco stayed like that for awhile, drowning
in his thoughts and silent tears. Night had finally arrived and behind him the
castle�s windows were alive with light and activity. The air was chilly and
somewhat humid, and he knew there would be a ghostly fog that evening,
concentrating the aroma of the roses in the small garden. One by one the stars
would appear on the black canvas; the full moon would shine upon the timid
flowers and leaves, making them look like crystal and turning that corner of
the world into something out of a fairy tale. He knew all that because he had
been in that garden on a night like this, not so long ago, and it had been
perfect; perfect because it had been just the two of them and the wind, the
moon, and the stars witnessing the one event that had changed his life forever.
The one moment he couldn�t remember but for a faded notion of it ever
happening; like the last traces of a dream before coming fully into
wakefulness�

It was Potter.

It had always been Harry
Potter.

All those nights
of sweet misery, of sinful abandon; all those nights he had been killed by
pleasure to be resurrected by hope... He
had been the one responsible. It had been his
voice inside his head, telling Draco he was all he wanted; telling him it would
always be just the two of them. It had been his
hands that had touched his body with so much need it burned his flesh. It had
been his mouth that had searched his
so desperately; plundering, conquering, claiming...

It was Harry
Potter the one he had secretly loved and longed for all this time. The same man
he hated with a vengeance; the very man he had always blamed for so many wrongs
in his life� Only it wasn�t really that black and white with them, was it? It
wasn�t simple like that; things had never been �simple� between him and Harry
Potter. And it wasn�t only discovering -or finally acknowledging- that Harry
Potter was his Soul Mate� or that he had always meant everything in Draco�s
life. That was only the tip of the iceberg. The truly important matter lay
beneath, submerged in complete darkness. Who knew what was lying under the
surface, waiting to be brought back to the light? What if it wasn�t worth
remembering? Even worse yet, what if it was?

Why? Why had he... had they had their memories erased? How many
things couldn�t he remember? How� important
were they? In his life of lies and disappointments, how many special things had
been taken away from him? Could it be possible that he had been forced to
forget the only beautiful moments he had ever had in his entire life?

�Draco...�

The blond turned around and saw his
godfather approaching, wand alight and held up before him. Severus wore a
hesitant expression that was certainly unbecoming of him, and it made Draco
smirk for some reason. The Potions Master stopped beside him, eyeing the blond,
the open journal on his lap, and the letter in his hands, but refrained from
speaking.

�She knew about it.� Draco waved the
letter in one hand, sniffing and wiping his tears with the other. To Hell with
being demure.

�May I�?� Severus asked in a cautious
tone, and Draco nearly rolled his eyes. He handed the letter to him, and
Severus read it under the light of his wand. After a couple of seconds, Draco
thought he heard a sob coming from his godfather, but the pale man concealed it
by clearing his throat.

�I had
thought...�

�That she had been the one who did it?�
Draco offered. �It crossed my mind, too; what with that bloody memory... She
must have figured out the spell that was used to know I wouldn�t remember that
particular conversation.� He paused for a few seconds as he stared at the
journal. �I would have preferred it if she had been the one who did it,
though,� he added in a flat voice. Severus was surprised by the admission, and
his puzzlement showed in his deep frown.

�Draco, you
don�t really mean that,� he said, clenching his jaw.

�Of course I do! If it had been her, at
least I would have known why she did
it! She wouldn�t have meant to hurt me; she would have done it to protect me, however
sick or twisted that could have been. But it was somebody else, and I don�t
have enough fingers on my hands and feet to count the possibilities! How am I
supposed to fix this mess if I don�t have a culprit or a motive or a bloody
clue as to where to start looking for any of them!?� He brushed his long hair
back with his hands before settling his irises of steel on his godfather. �All
I know is that whoever did this had too much at stake or thought that Potter
and I being together was too much of a threat to attempt something like that.�

Severus� eyes
narrowed dangerously in the light of his wand.

�Are you suggesting I have something to
do with this?� His voice was low, and it dripped liquid nitrogen.

�I have to consider all the
possibilities, don�t I? Wouldn�t you do the same in my position? I mean, I was
a spy at the time; I was collecting important information, and it was highly
audacious of me to go around sleeping with the Golden Boy whilst mingling with
Death Eaters,� Draco drawled. �Too much of a liability, don�t you think?
Besides, you seem to know a lot about
Nesci Amator.�

�I would never...� The Potions Master�s face was the epitome of indignation,
and Draco waved his hand tiredly, as if his godfather�s antics bored him.

�I know you didn�t do it, Severus. You
are quite the Slytherin, but you forget I can read you like a book. You
wouldn�t be able to lie to me like that,� the blond said casually, and Severus
didn�t know if he should feel cross or relieved by the statement. �In fact, I�m
sure you didn�t even know about Potter and I... Am I correct?� he added with a
sly smirk.

Feeling at a loss for words, Severus
settled with a curt nod of his head, and Draco smiled wickedly.

�I figured as much... You see, I, on the other hand, am way better at
subterfuge.� The Potions Master really tried to scowl at that, but the
affection hidden behind his godson�s sneer was his undoing.

�Oh, shut up, you demonic brat!� he said,
suppressing a laugh, as he grabbed the aforementioned demon by the shoulder and
commandeered him upwards. �It�s late. We should go now or Dixie
will have our heads.�

�She�ll want to have your head, you mean?� the blond retorted, his voice ringing with
innuendo, as he grabbed the dropped journal from the ground and brushed dirt
from the back of his robes. Severus, by now immune to Draco�s ability to turn
the tables on anyone, merely scowled half-heartedly; feeling a flicker of hope
for the first time since he had arrived at the Headmaster�s office. His godson
was strong. He would be fine.

�I was wondering when you�d come up with
one of your infamous remarks,� he drawled, giving Draco his letter as he pushed
the iron gate open for his godson to pass. The blond took the proffered sheet
of parchment, put it inside its envelope, and tucked it in his robe pocket.

�Well, I couldn�t resist. You should have
seen that one coming. Don�t tell me you�re getting too slow for me! Or should I
say, too old?� There was the most angelic �and completely false- smile on his
face.

�You never give up, do you?� Severus
mock-hissed as both men started down the path to the gates, their wands
lighting their way. Draco frowned, and his godfather sensed a sudden changed in
the atmosphere.

�I don�t have that luxury, do I?� he said
briskly; his mercury gaze firmly locked forward.

Neither of the two men said a word after
that last comment, but a tacit agreement had been settled between them; one
neither of them needed to voice out loud to make official, as it had always
been the only way for them: Draco would not rest until he found all his
answers, and Severus would be right there to see him through, no matter how
unbearable the burden proved to be.

Soon enough, they reached the gates and stepped
out of the warded grounds. After a shared nod, both wizards disappeared with
two simultaneous �cracks� into thin air.

��

Harry Potter was one of the most powerful
wizards in the world, but today he decided he was going to skip the
uncomfortable �albeit practical- use of Apparition in favour of a long and
hopefully relaxing walk home. Luckily, he had decided to wear Muggle clothes
underneath his Auror robes that morning.

If he had thought that the Ministry had
been in mayhem after Draco�s hearing, he wouldn�t know how to describe the
environment on its second floor; more specifically, in the Department of
Magical Law Enforcement. There had been �and probably still were- reporters
everywhere, taking declarations from every single person in an official uniform
about the �Malfoy Magisterial Mistake�, as they had baptized Draco�s unfair
trial and apprehension; Harry guessed that Luton
and his lapdog of an assistant might be halfway across the globe by now. The
fireplaces linked to the Department �and to the rest of the Ministry, for that
matter- by the Floo Network had collapsed by mid-afternoon; they�d even got
international calls from South America, for
Merlin�s beard! There were hordes of owls perched on the windowsills of the
surrounding buildings; he hadn�t seen so many birds since his first letter from
Hogwarts, and even that paled in comparison. It had been an amazing sight, and
he had had to bite his tongue to keep from laughing his arse off in his
superiors� faces as they rushed to and fro to contain the mess they had
created. In for a Knut, in for a Galleon; that should teach the bastards a
lesson.

But as much as he had been up to his neck
with things to do that afternoon, it hadn�t done a thing to qualm his
asphyxiating anxiety.

The streets of London were always busy no matter the time of
day, and he found the urban activity unexpectedly soothing. People came and
went about their own business; some were rushing home, some were heading for
work, and some were just wandering around, enjoying a night out in the city.
The traffic was hectic, as always, and the air was filled with all kinds of
sounds. It was the distraction he needed, watching this semi-chaos going on
around him instead of focusing on the turmoil of Big Bang-ish proportions
taking place inside of him.

He crossed one street after the other,
counting the buildings, the traffic signs, even the stalls on the sidewalk just
to keep his mind occupied. The jacket he was wearing kept the night chill at
bay but didn�t do anything for the cold interred in his bones, in his soul. The
sky was slightly cloudy; it would probably rain later on that night, but for
the raven-haired Auror there was a hurricane already lashing at his heart,
drowning him in doubt and confusion.

Harry firmly believed in instincts. In
fact, he didn�t think he would be alive today if it hadn�t been for his �lucky
hunches�, and thankfully, he had always had the sense to follow them, even when
he encountered opposition on all sides. Granted, most of them always resulted
in a life or death situation, but the important matter was that he had always
been on the right track; the bonus action pack was just part of the job of
being the Wizarding World�s Designated Saviour. But right now, there was none
of that unwavering confidence he had felt on those occasions. Right now, and
probably for the first time in his life, he was torn between following common
sense and going for what his heart was dictating to him. He was used to those
two options never being one and the same, but in this case, the gap between
them was so wide it bordered on irrationality.

He had returned to work that afternoon
after his short �and in retrospection, rather uninspiring- �talk� with Draco
feeling as if the world had suddenly been turned upside down. He had followed
his so-called instincts and gone after the blond Slytherin, not giving a damn
about what he was doing or what it could possibly mean. He had just wanted to
see Draco; to tell him all those things that had been swirling in his mind
since the disclosure of the memories; hell, since the moment he saw him
entering that courtroom. Harry hadn�t really expected anything to happen.
Granted, it would be completely hypocritical of him if he denied that he had
wished for another opportunity to touch him, but he had known that it was out
of the question. He couldn�t just� reach out and grab him �unless he wanted to
find himself crippled all of the sudden. Besides, it was wrong; so wrong on so many levels that even wishing for the opportunity was unforgivable. Harry was quite aware
of that. But he had touched Draco. As
if it were the most natural thing to do, he had reached out and grabbed his arm, overwhelmed by the
need to have the blond near him for just a few more seconds.

It wasn�t just the need, per se, that mattered, although, it made
things more clear now. It was what he had felt
with that most feeble, most innocent of touches. Was it that he had finally
taken his mind out of the gutter in that moment to realise it, he didn�t know;
but he was sure that Draco had felt it, too. Harry had seen it in the blond�s
face; the same incredulity, the same astonishment. Of course, before he could
even begin to rationalise what had just happened, Draco had to be Draco and pull a Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde
on him, leaving him in that alley to rack his brains about what he could have
possibly done to ensure such a reaction and to ponder until insanity everything
that had just happened.

Perhaps that
was it. He shouldn�t have thought that
much.

There had been so much, and yet so little
in that touch, that he was sure it couldn�t be normal. �Normal� was a slight stirring in the groin when seeing a
nicely-toned body. �Normal�
was a fluttery feeling in one�s stomach, or even a soft blush on the cheeks. It
wasn�t normal to feel your whole body
being shocked by a thousand watts, or knowing exactly what the other person was
thinking, or feeling that you had to be close to said person or you were sure
you would die of want. No. It was certainly not
a normal attraction that was going on between him and Malfoy... After all, he
couldn�t be considered one of the most powerful wizards of the age if he wasn�t
able to notice the subtle energy fluctuations that occurred between two bonded
partners.

Now, that was the eye of the storm, so to
speak.

He spotted the small pub across the
street from his apartment building and decided to go in for a beer� or four. He
knew he shouldn�t drink when he was in such a mental state, but the circumstances
virtually compelled it. He entered the Irish tavern and headed towards the bar,
finding an empty stool in the farthest corner. He had been there a couple of
times before, and he found the cheery atmosphere of the small pub quite
appealing. A box placed on the opposite side of the bar was showing a football
game, and there were a few patrons gathered around it, holding their beers and
shouting with and without reason. Several tables were already occupied even
this early (it was only eight o�clock) and Harry guessed correctly that the
place would be packed within the hour. Once, he would have scowled at the
thought, but today he found that the last thing he wanted was solitude.

Harry ordered his beer, downing it in
just a few swigs the second the bartender had placed it in front of him. A
jukebox was playing some oldie in the background, and he wondered what was it
with pubs like this one to always have both a TV set and a music system on at
the same time. He pointed at his empty bottle and the bartender replaced it
with a new one, which also received the same treatment as its predecessor.

As predicted, more people started to show
up after Harry�s third beer... or was it his fourth already? Couples, mixed
groups, and the occasional lone wolf made their way towards the
quickly-vanishing empty seats. The group around the telly had broken off after
the game had ended and had taken their commentary to their respective tables.
The music was loud and strumming and people�s voices and laughter were starting
to rise under the effects of their spirit of choice. All the while, Harry
concentrated on numbing his brain, which was relentlessly revolving with
thoughts of Draco Malfoy.

Draco Malfoy. Just
thinking about that name made his head spin.

Out of its own volition, his traitorous
mind started to conjure images of the blond Slytherin: Draco lying on his back,
gloriously naked; his luscious mouth swollen from kissing and nibbling and his
eyes half-closed and glassy with want. Harry could see him throwing his head
backwards, biting his lower lip hard in need; exposing the delicate column of
his throat that just begged for Harry�s attention. His silvery-blond strands
cascaded around his face and shoulders in delicious disarray, compelling Harry
to run his hands through those silky locks, to drown in Draco�s unique scent.
He could hear the blond moaning as Harry trailed his tongue down his flushed
neck, the hollow spot between his sharp collarbones, the hard planes of his
chest; tasting the intoxicating mead of Draco�s lustful sweat. He could feel
the blond arching under him, releasing the most wonderful cries as Harry teased
a rosy, erect nipple with his teeth; played with the soft, golden curls below
the blonde�s navel; ran his nails over that sensitive spot on his side; bit
hard on a pale shoulder as he thrust deeper, harder, faster inside of
him...

Harry opened his eyes to the amused look
on the bartender�s face and the charged atmosphere of a crammed-full pub. He
was painfully hard and not just a little drunk, and he couldn�t bring himself
to wonder what he had done or said to earn himself the glass of dry scotch the
man had placed before him with a knowing smirk on his face. To tell the truth,
he didn�t give a damn. He downed the contents in one gulp, feeling the hard
liquor burn a path down his throat as he asked for the tab. A couple of minutes
later he found himself out in the cold night, feeling no better than he had
when he had entered the pub.

He crossed the street and went straight for
his apartment building. The concierge eyed him curiously as he stumbled towards
the elevator and pushed the button for his floor. Once outside his apartment
door he fumbled for keys he couldn�t find, and without further ado he muttered
an unlocking charm. He closed the door behind him with a bang, turning on the
lights as he walked into the living room... to stop dead in his tracks.

�Hello,
Harry,� Ginny said from the couch; her face unreadable.

�Ginny? What...What are you doing here?�
Harry croaked out as he tried to cover his surprise by taking off his jacket
and dropping it over the kitchen counter. Ginny didn�t seem to register the
thoughtlessness of his question.

�I Floo-ed the Ministry, but they said
you had already left. I was worried. Where have you been?� She stood up,
walking towards her fianc�; her chocolate gaze fixed on him.

�I� I stopped for a few drinks on my way
home,� Harry stuttered. �It has been a trying day.� He couldn�t find anything
else to say.

�You forgot to call. And you�re drunk,�
she said in a tone that implied disappointment. She stopped in front of him,
crossing her arms over her bosom, and Harry was assaulted by a wave of guilt
when he remembered his broken promise. He couldn�t look her in the eye.

�Yeah,� he said eventually; although,
which statement he was admitting to, he didn�t know. Harry braced himself for
the explosion that was guaranteed to occur. He was somewhat inebriated, but he
wasn�t so drunk as to delude himself into thinking that Ginny was not aware of
everything that had transpired that day.

However, the shouting fit he had expected
never came. Instead, Ginny�s mouth was suddenly searching his desperately, and
her soft curves were flush against him. One of her hands found its way down his
front, rubbing his aching need though the rough material of his jeans whilst
the other tangled itself in his hair, pulling at the black locks. Harry
couldn�t stop the guttural groan that escaped his lips.

�Oh, Circe, Harry! Where were you? I was so
worried!� she gasped between their frenzied kisses, and the lust dripping from
her voice sent a bolt straight to his groin. �Take me, Harry. I want to feel
you. I need you,� she moaned against his ear; her hands now pulling at his
shirt.

�Oh, Ginny...� Harry responded by
grabbing her roughly by the sides and holding her up, placing her legs around
his waist as he pushed her against the wall; tugging her skirt up and over her
thighs. Ginny managed to remove his shirt and started attacking his neck and collarbones,
sucking roughly to leave a mark as she ran her nails down his back. Harry could feel the blood rushing from his
head and down his body to flood through his throbbing member. He knew he
couldn�t wait any longer. Ginny pushed back to look at him with wanting,
demanding eyes, and all he could do was sink into that familiar pool of desire
and want; the only thing he could make any sense of in his shattered world. He
opened his jeans� button and zipper with shaking fingers and, without
hesitation, buried himself deep inside her welcoming heat. He didn�t want to
think anymore; he just wanted to let go and feel.

Harry closed his emerald eyes at the
well-known sensations, to the wave of simple pleasure hitting his spinal chord;
relishing in the safe haven he was being provided with as Ginny�s moans and
cries resonated loudly in his ears with each one of his hard, desperate
thrusts.

But that was
a mistake...

Inside his head, delicate curves gave way
to sharp angles and chiselled planes; red curls turned into silvery-blond
locks, and brown eyes glowed startling grey. The hands that were trailing
heated paths over his shoulders and chest were no longer small and gentle, but
strong and determined. The legs around his waist urging him deeper and faster were
long and slender, and every inch of flesh he reached was firm and hard beneath
his fingertips. Then, he was no longer in his living room, and it was not Ginny
in his arms. Draco Malfoy was looking up at him, mercury eyes locked with his
as he moaned and panted; the most delicious smirk Harry had ever seen etched on
his parted, swollen, bitten lips.

Fuck me, Harry� Fuck me hard� I want you all� Yes�
Just like that� Oh, fuck!

�Gods!� Harry yanked his eyes open at the
same time his body crossed the edge of release. He came hard, furiously. His
whole body was shaking, racked by the powerful wave of his orgasm. His eyes
rolled to the back of his head; his heart was hammering in his chest and he was
breathing in between short, painful gasps. He was being thoroughly kissed by an
agile mouth, and his ears gathered the soft, intermittent words: �Yes, baby�
Gods, that was good� Oh, Harry��

His heart froze in his chest. He looked
up to see the sedated, chocolate gaze of Ginny as she leaned her head against
the wall. Her dress was ripped open and her legs were practically dangling
around his waist. �I love you� Oh, how
much I love you,� she murmured; still lost in her afterglow.

Harry brought his arms around her lithe
frame and held her fiercely against him as if she were a lifeline, feeling
dread and despair spreading through him. His eyes stung with unshed tears and
he shivered, helpless and confused. His breath caught in his throat as she
pulled back and planted her feet on the floor with a smile, offering her hand
to him. He took it without a second thought, and she led them into the bedroom,
muttering a spell to turn off the lights.

She softly pushed him onto the mattress,
magically removing both of their clothes clothes and getting them under the
covers.

�I�m staying
with you tonight,� she said with a sly grin.

He didn�t question her decision; he
didn�t even ask if it was wise, or if her parents would agree, as he would have
done another time.

Harry just let her do as she pleased that
night, because, for the love of all that was holy, he didn�t know what to do
anymore.

��

TBC...
- 6
- 7
- 8
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Ethereal Desire