The first thing Harry noticed when he woke was the throbbing in his head.
He blinked his eyes open to sunlight streaming in from the window. He thought it was a bit odd how the weather had been so nice lately for a British autumn.
He brought a hand up to his aching head. He couldn’t recall the last time he’d had such a tormenting headache. He stretched and turned in bed to see if Draco was still asleep, but found his side empty. This happened more and more lately, Harry would wake up to see Draco had already left, the sheets long gone cold. He was worried that Draco wasn’t getting enough sleep, and his increasingly darkening under-eyes and agitated behaviour lately only served to prove his point. Harry’d been wanting to talk to him about it for a while, but somehow he could never get the chance.
His head was killing him. He really ought to get up and take a pain potion or something. He blindly searched for his glasses on the bedside table, but they weren’t there. That was strange. He couldn't remember where he’d left them.
He heaved himself out of bed and tried to steady himself on his feet after a bout of dizziness hit him. He ambled out of the room, then trudged downstairs to get the potion from the bathroom.
As he walked down the steps, he noticed a light rustling sound coming from the drawing room. Harry smiled to himself.
He carefully tiptoed towards the room to not startle Draco. When he looked inside, Draco was sitting on an armchair, legs crossed primly one over the other, and the morning paper covering his face.
“Morning, love,” Harry said.
The paper was lowered slowly. Dull grey eyes stared back at him, almost like there was no life left behind them. Draco smiled only with his mouth, sickly sweet.
“Harry. What are you doing up?”
“Thought I heard you in here,” he came closer. “Have we got any pain potion left? Got a massive headache,” he asked, fiddling with the edge of Draco’s newspaper.
His eyes caught on the picture printed on the front page. Weirdly, the man on it looked a lot like Draco. He tried to focus his eyes to read the headline. And that’s when he remembered.
Harry Potter’s Husband Declared Official Number One Suspect of His Murder
Draco’s eyes followed his to the paper, then back to his face. Hollow smile intact, he said, “You should go back to bed, love.”
Harry remembered. He stepped back, and nodded. He remembered now. He walked back up the stairs, into his room, and got back into bed. When he woke up again, he would forget, and it would start all over.