What's in a memory?

Chapter Seven

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The next day there was an alert.

!Harry Potter spotted, at St.Mungos!

The Saviour of the wizarding world, Harry J Potter, senior Auror and defeater of The Dark Lord found!

More on page 6.

Draco was pissed, all day he kept pacing around, muttering under his breath.

Harry watched him pace during breakfast when the post first arrived. He watched Malfoy pace during visitor hours while playing chess with Ron. Later, when drinking tea with Hermione, there was Malfoy still pacing.

Finally, in the early afternoon Malfoy stopped, instead turning to some people in the hall.

"How did this happen!" Harry heard through the doorway, though he couldn't see Malfoy, he'd know his shrill anywhere.

"We assure you we have this floor guarded." Harry could make out the profile of the broad gentleman, dressed in black robes, he had at least one pierced ear and a strong london accent.

"Not well enough" The blond sniped.

"Only people with authority-" His deep tone travelled further than Malfoy's and Harry heard it easily.

"I don't care, I want to take him home."

"Draco, I don't think we should-" This voice was female, quieter but commanding.

"I want to take my husband home" Harry shivered at the term once more. He wasn't sure he could ever get used to the idea. Malfoy's husband.

The reply was lowered so Harry couldn't hear her concerns but Malfoy's voice echoed back with ease:

"I'm a healer, it's not like there won't be someone there. I will monitor him. I don't want another slip up."

"Draco, be resonable." Her tone was short but patient.

"No. I won't. This" there was a shuffle of the paper -The newspaper, Harry assumed-"Should never have got out. Someone on your staff leaked it."

"Draco-"

"My husband has a right to privacy."

"We can assure you that-"

"I will sign the discharge myself, if I must."

There was more muttering from the female, Harry strained to hear.

"Fine then. If you're sure, let's get him home."

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"So I'm supposed to just go home with Malfoy?"

"Draco" Hermione interjected from behind her book. She's been doing that recently, correcting whenever Harry called Draco by his surname. Harry doubted she even knew she did it, as she was probably too absorbed by "Magical healing: Post-head trauma" a volume she was reading. 

"Mate, it's not like he's gonna do anything"

Harry wasn't so sure, with the way Malfoy was lately.

He seemed so highly strung and to have taken the article so personally. ('It should never of happened. We need to be more careful Hermione. no more press!').

Harry supposed it was because it happened in Malfoy's workplace that it felt worse for the blond.

Harry had become resigned to the publications by now.

Harry would have assumed his partner, whomever it was-be it a man or woman- would have been used to the constant threat of publicity which seemed to follow him. 

But Malfoy seemed personally threatened by this article which itself had very little information pertaining to Harry's current predicament. 

If Malfoy was really his husband, wouldn't he be used to their life on the front page?

Wouldn't the Malfoy Harry knew from school, relish it? 

Like this, stomping up and down the halls, seething about Harry's wellbeing and protection, he was practically a stranger. 

And Harry was meant to go home with him? 

Whatever look Harry had on his face, made Ron add:

"Plus, it's Grimmauld Place, you know? I mean, you remember Grimmauld, right?"

"Yes Ron" Harry was exasperated.

Harry also had this to contend with, Ron asking inane questions .Of course he remembered Grimmauld Place.

"I'm surprised stuck-up Malfoy -”

“Draco” Hermione chirped behind the next thick tome.

Ignoring her interjection, Harry continued “-Stuck-up Malfoy would agree to live there. wouldn't he prefer some, some Manor or something"

"Nah, he's pretty chill."

Then there was this. Ron defending him, Malfoy for fuck's sake. 

Malfoy at Grimmauld Place. Harry's home. He couldn't picture it.

At Harry's skeptical look, Ron continued:

"I mean, sure. At first he was a little... disgruntled. Like, not about the manor, don't think he could give a shit. And I mean Grimmauld's got plenty of space." Ron shrugged, "He just whined about finding a place for the two of you. Right Hermione?"

"What?" Startled out of her reading; she had a glazed look for a second before clicking back into the real world. "Oh, yeah. Arguments about where you'd live."

"Really?"

"Yes Harry. It mattered to Draco that you get your own place when you agreed to live together. Do you understand nothing?"

Harry clearly didn't.

Then or now, he didn't understand any of that.

He glanced to see if Ron "got it".

"He didn't want to live in the house of Black" Ron said with a decisive nod.

Hermione elaborated, putting her book to one side, "Because he wanted to start a new life; one seperate from all that heritage nonsense."

Picking the medical journal back up, She added almost as an afterthought, "Not to mention, dealing with Wallburga's homophobia."

Hermione cringed. It was Ron's turn to glance at Harry to see if he understood.

Harry tried not to groan. He hadn't lost that much. He remembered that;

How Sirius' mother's portrait would yell everytime Hermione entered the home, Wallburga would cry aloud about 'disgraced blood' setting foot in 'her' home.

And whenever Harry brought back a date. 

Or whenever the Weasley family would visit. 

("Disgrace to the name of Black!" She'd shriek bloody murder.)

Harry also cringed, and tried to right the conversation. 

"Yes, Ron, I remember her too." Harry sighed, so Malfoy didn't want to move in.  But he did.

"So-so why would he... you know, move in if... if it bothered him so much" Harry struggled to find the right words.

Thankfully, Hermione knew what he meant though, she always knew.

"He loves you Harry" Hermione stressed and Harry did his best not to wince at the words.

Remembering all to vividly Draco leaving after the topic was brought up.

Harry was not ready to face such huge statements or declarations.

Unfortunately Ron furthered: "Yeah, Gross as it may seem, she's not wrong Harry. Ferret's head over heels for you."

Harry frowned, it was still difficult to hear. He tried to compartmentalise that aside until he could deal with it.

Preferably at a later date, when he was alone. 

Or maybe never. 

Resolute to change the direction of conversation back to safer waters, Harry asked, "But why Grimmauld Place?"

If Ron noticed the sidestep, he didn't call him out on it. "Well, As I recall you fought pretty hard about it, since y'know Sirius left it to you."

"Oh." Yeah, maybe that made sense. "So he just moved in?"

Malfoy -Draco, his mind reminded him. Sounding strangely of Hermione- entered, leaning casually against the doorframe. All elegant and relaxed, with a lazy smile.

"Pluh-lease, you all but begged me"

Harry froze.

This was the first time he'd seen Draco out of his healer scrubs.

That is to say, he wasn't naked.

Godric, Harry flushed again at the thought of a naked Malfoy.

No, Malfoy was wearing muggle clothes. He was casually dressed in ripped black jeans and a blue button down which brought out the flecks of colour in his silver eyes.

God, he's beautiful. Harry shut that thought down as quick as it came. But not quick enough to stop the blush that flooded his face.

Harry was staring.

Malfoy looked good.

Where did he even get Muggle jeans that tight? It was sinful, it was dreadful...

Ron coughed. Malfoy similarly came out of his daze. (Harry had no idea how distracting he could be. Draco mused, righting himself again).

"It took a lot of negotiation but we got there." Draco elaborated. Harry was entranced with each move of his lips, before he quickly looked away. 

Stop it. You don't want to send mixed signals he reminded himself sternly.

Thankfully Ron spoke up:

"Didn't you guys almost break up?" Ron said nonchalantly, continuing to fill the remaining possessions into Harry's duffle.

"Wait, we did?" Eager for more information. This was the most Harry had heard about his 'relationship' and he wanted to know more.

How? When? What kind of a relationship was it? 

"It was all about priorities Potter and your incapacity to share." The blond remained upright while Harry's head spun with unanswered questions.

"My- My Incapacity?!" Harry wanted to laugh. The thought that perfect only child Malfoy, would be calling him high maintance! That Harry was the one unable to share!

"Yes. But once you explained that this was not a reflection on me, but about losing your connection to Sirius. I graciously changed my perspective. And I would've moved in much sooner had you actually told me why you loved that grubby old place so much."

"Oh"  It was all Harry could manage out, what with the limited air. There was a breathtakingly fond look on Malfoy's face, Harry found it hard to breathe. Draco just looked so lovely, and handsome.

It was messing with Harry's head.

It might even be illegal to go around looking like that. Maybe, Harry should ask Ron to arrest him. Yes, send him far away to Azkaban. So Harry wouldn't have to look at him anymore. Harry wouldn't be so bloody distracted all the time and he wouldn't have to deal with the conflicting feelings about Draco. And those goddamn eyes!

And Harry could have a thought again. 

Harry momentarily forgot that his best mates were in the room. 

"But it looks so much better now mate." Ron said, completely unaware of Harry's struggle.

When Harry finally had the courage to look away, he saw that Ron was delicately placing Harry's favourite photoframe in the packed clothes. It had a golden trim and held two photos: one of his parents dancing, which he got from Sirius' collection, and a photo from eighth year with Ron, Hermione and himself all wearing graduation robes, smiling at the camera, Hermione positively beaming with pride.

Ron knew how much they meant to him, so he was diligent in packing it without the use of spells. Harry really had the best friends.  

"You'll love it." Hermione gave him a reassuring smile, collecting her small library and placing it into her enchanted bag. "The house is so much brighter since the changes you two made."

The words sank in. Grimmauld Place. Changed. 

Harry tried not to allow that to upset him. Hermione told him he'd love it. He trusted her.

But he didn't trust... 

"I'm guessing you redecorated." Harry stared pointedly at the gorgeous blond. That's my husband? an unhelpful voice chimed, sounding so hopeful. Harry mentally boxed that away.  

"A little." His ex-nemesis just gave a little shrug which made Ron burst into laughter.

"Right, a little."

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The house was unrecognisable to Harry.

If not for the original structure, he wouldn't be able to tell. It hardly resembled the dark, gloomy townhouse that Harry remembered. Harry had to double check the street sign just to make sure.

The first noticable change was the door: Gone was the flaky black paint and serpent knocker. It was now replaced with a sleek blue gloss and a brass hoop hanging beneath the number twelve. 

Harry quite liked the change, though he wouldn't have ever thought that the hidden door needed a fresh coat. Who would even see it anyway?

Harry was lead up to the door, through the creaky gate -which was now oiled and had lost it's whiny screech- on the way up Harry saw potted plants decorating the concrete steps.

"Prepare yourself"

It was predetermined that Malfoy would lead the way, followed by Ron and himself, with Hermione trailing behind. When they were all in the storm porch, Draco raised his hand, his ring still glinting in the fading sunlight, and with a wave he unlocked the magical door.

The wards shimmered a little before granting him access.

Malfoy had clearance to Harry's home.

As Ron stepped in after the sytherin Harry wondered, Maybe this is an alternate universe and I've just stumbled upon it.

Hermione gave him a gentle squeeze. He used that to ground himself and bravely followed after the duo. 

Inside was immaculate.

There were no cobwebs or dark shadows. The familar musty scent no longer hit his senses as he walked in.

If outside was unrecognisable, this was impossible.

Gone was the threadbare carpet which crunched underfoot, it was instead replaced with light pine floorboards and a tasteful rug that Harry presumed Malfoy picked out.

From above, the grand chandelier had been fully restored and was now gleaming throwing light onto the green painted walls.

Someone had hung up a set of pegs for cloaks, so Harry shucked his off and hung his onto the first peg.  

This is crazy.

The shadows that caused Harry's heart to race, (dreading the unknown, even in his own house), were banished.

Harry tried to reconcile it with the home in his mind. The one he remembered. Trying to piece the two images together, to coexist, with little success.

It was like a new home, entirely. He hoped Sirius wouldn't mind. 

It took a while for Harry to settle his nerves enough, to wait until the pounding in his ears receded, before he noticed it. 

It's quiet.

It took Harry a moment, but this biggest change shook Harry to his very core. The feeling was akin to the one he had when his name flew out the cup before tri-wizard tournament.

He hadn't been prepared for this. 

The portraits were gone.

All down the corridor, the walls were free of the proud Black relatives that used to torment Harry daily.

Filled with disbelief, his hand moved on it's own accord. He ran his hand on the smooth walls- half expecting to find a disillusionment charm, and feel the gilded frames underneath his fingertips- but found the surface devoid of the dreadful potraits.

Harry felt overwhelmed, grateful but overwhelmed. 

"What about the sticking charm?" Harry asked. He was unsure where to look first.

This was his house? 

"What, oh, that!"Ron answered, toeing out of boots. "A salve was invented which helped remove them a couple years ago. Still a bitch though."

"One of my proudest accomplishments" Hermione preened in Harry's ear.

"Sorry?" Harry must've lost the thread of conversation along the way.

"Inventing the spell solution to finally get rid of that nasty woman." Hermione huffed, hanging up her cloak.

"My wife, brilliant, isn't she?" Ron basked, with a grin so huge it threatened his entire face.

Malfoy spoke up from the other end of the hall. "Yes, yes. You're a genuis-we're forever grateful-blah blah - Afterwards, all it took was a couple of brutes to come rip them down."

"Hey!" Ron Half-heartedly shoved Mal- Draco- into the wall. Hermione chuckled from behind Harry who stood dumbfounded in the centre as Draco headlocked the slightly taller man.

"Took some hours but you and ginger here" Draco gave a brotherly ruffle to Ron's hair, releasing him- "removed the lot that weekend." Draco laughed. So care free, before nudging Ron back and forth lovingly.

"Right." Harry was completely baffled by what he was seeing.

Not sure which was weirder, that this was his house or that they were not wrestling each other to the ground.

After a few minutes of gentle roughhousing, Harry's brain had finally convinced himself this was not a mirage of some kind, three sets of eyes landed expectantly on him.

Harry was unsure what they wanted from him, so he offered "Erm, well it looks great?" 

"Anything familar about it Harry?" Their gleeful eyes shining with hope.

"Erm, no... I mean... it's a hallway."

Their faces fell.

Harry felt the need to... to try, for them.

"It smells nice, sort of cinnamony-spice though."

It was a bit intense, reminded him of Autumn which was weird as it was June. But it was nice all the same.

Malfoy squinted his eyes as if he knew what Harry was trying to do. There was a tense moment where he thought the git would say something, but he didn't.

His eyes conversed, "You don't have to make anything up Harry to appease us." 

After a brief awkward moment, under intense silver eyes. Draco cleared his throat, "I'll go fetch some tea then."

Harry released the air in his chest.

I know you, rattled again in Harry's brain, as he watched Draco walk away.

"I'll come with you. Harry look around, see if anything triggers a memory." Hermione ordered before, she too, trailed downstairs towards the kitchen.

"Dude." Ron said watching Harry enter the first room. It used to be the drawing room.

But was now converted into some kind of home office.

It was tidy and organised, Harry doubted it was his own.

Unsure what to do, he walked over to the hearth, Yep...same hearth. 

He could feel Ron's gaze on him.

"Are you just gonna watch me, look at stuff?" Harry glanced at the empty mantle.

Odd, where's the photos?

Ron said, more to himself than to Harry, as if reassuring himself, "Nah, it'll come back. Took Jean and Bill a while though."

"What did you just say?"

"I mean, the minds a tricky thing but memories aren't just gone-gone, you know?"

"No, I meant the part about Hermione's parents."

"Oh, that it took a while? Yeah, like two years of intense therapy. Man, Hermione hardly slept trying to figure it all out."

"They... They got it back?"  Harry persisted feeling something tight in his chest. It felt like hope.

"You don't remember that?" 

Harry rolled his eyes, "Obviously not."

Ron glared at him, before refocusing his attention. Ron was busy imagining what it must be like to see your home with new eyes. Would he like it? Harry used to love it in here, watching Draco work on his research papers. He use to sit on the small sofa, feet propped up and use to pester Draco until he took a break. Ron was so distracted he almost missed Harry's:

"You're serious right?"

"About what?" Ron was so lost. It didn't help that Harry's back was facing him.

"The memories, Ron. They got them back?" Ron heard Harry's voice crack.

He didn't want to lie to him.

"Well, not everything, some things are still hazy but like, enough."

It was rough, those months where Hermione was more focused on research than her own NEWTS was intense.

Their courtship had mostly taken place in the library: stolen moments of kisses, sneaking snacks past Madam Pince, and just genuinely enjoying each other's company, together, over thousands of books.

Harry's voice was so quiet, Ron strained to hear it over the London traffic. "So, so there's hope?" Harry sniffed loudly, like he was trying not to cry or something.

"Woah, did you really think that there wasn't?Harry, there's a fuckton of research being done and a whole team of aurors and healers behind your back looking into this spell."

Ron grabbed Harry's shoulder, and applied tight pressure. "Of course there's hope. Do you think Draco would be standing upright if there wasn't?" Ron used the leverage to turn Harry round to face him again. Looking deep into his eyes hoping the words were sinking in.

There's hope Harry. We haven't given up, so you can't. Harry there's hope.

"Huh. I just figured that since they sent me home" Harry shrugged, his eyes downcast on the cream rug and Ron could see this was upsetting Harry more than he was letting on. 

Ron resumed his look around the room, searching for something strong to trigger Harry's memories.

"You were discharged for your safety, Harry. Draco was worried that someone was leaking to the paper. That fans would show up next, you know? Can't have them suffocating you whilst you're trying to recover." Harry smirked a little, Ron let out a huff of breath – a half laugh.

"Then there's always whoever did this, coming to finish you off, it was just too dangerous, you know?"

Ron turned back to admiring the mantle. So he didn't see Harry's jaw drop.

He most certainly did not know.

It didn't even occur to Harry that there'd be wizards tracking him now he was an auror. He'd always imagined it the other way around. Finding them. But, it just occurred to Harry that he's just painted a bigger target on his back. Like having a thousand Voldermorts tracking him down to stop him interfering with their nefarious plans. Like, having hundreds of eyes watching him. again.

Ron, as if sensing Harry's change, refocused on Harry.

Immediately he said, "Shit. Are you freaking out? Do you need me to get Draco?" Then before Harry could beg him not to worry anyone, he yelled out, "Draco! Hermione!"

Harry tried to stop the spiral. "I'm fine" he whispered out with all the air trapped in his lungs "Just hadn't thought about it s'all."

"What?"

"I just thought being auror would help people, and get dark wizards off the street. I hadn't even thought about... " The black dots were back, dancing in his vision.

The silent kind of freak out where his breathing was still steady. An eerie sort of calm seemed to wash over his body, as his mind spiraled out of control. 

"Mate, it's okay. There's protocols in place. You're completely safe"

Suddenly thundering footsteps, and two blurry bodies burst into the room. 

"Hey what's happened? Are you okay?" Draco asked, frantic. Harry could see hope and fear in his eyes as Draco looked at Harry, scanning him for answers.

"I'm. I'm Fine, just. thinking." Harry was starting to feel disoreintated again. Light headed from the ratio of breaths taken per spinning thought. 

"Any memories?" Hermione's voice broke through.

"What?" He felt in a fog, unable to see anything past the black dots. "Oh. Not yet." His voice took on that strange deatched quality.

"Yeah, no. We were just talking about why Harry left", Ron went on to say, "It wasn't really explained to him."

"For good reason." Seethed Draco. "He wasn't supposed to be worrying about it. I have it under control."

Momentarily broken out of worst case scenarios, Harry grunted out, "Hey Malfoy, leave it. It's good I know." And then back to foggy emotional turmoil and twisted calm "I just assumed there was nothing the healers could do."

"Oh, Harry" The headshake, the sigh from both Malfoy and Hermione.

"Well, there is. There are so many avenues Harry." She pipped up, sounding so cheerful compared to the echo in Harry's head.

Harry couldn't hear the desperation. But it was there. Hermione was just as eager for Harry to hold on as the rest of them were. This wouldn't work if Harry lost faith this early on in treatment.

"I know that now" His voice still sounded strange as Harry tried to give her a smile.

God, She had one of those faces on, like those teachers from primary school, so.... sad? Pitiful? Disgusted?

Was she disappointed in Harry too?

Harry hated Hermione looking at him like that, like he was headed into the First Task with the Horntail all over again. His nerves couldn't take it.

"Do you want a cup of tea?" Draco asked at last, but glanced at Harry a second too long, his fingers twitching as if he wanted to reach out to him. 

Harry shuffled back. 

"I think I'm just gonna lie down, if that's alright with you guys?"

"Of course  / yeah mate!"

Draco however remained silent.

"Okay well I'll just... just head up" Harry willed his tired feet to move. He stumbled slightly and fought to right himself.

"Do you need me to-" Malfoy started for him, hand outstretched.

Harry recoiled, fighting for each step. "No, I got it. You guys can just-"

Harry stopped, he didn't know what they'd do? It was still so weird that they all hung out. "-do you?" He finished lamely.

"Sleep well Harry" Hermione took Draco's still outstretched hand and gave it a squeeze. Draco's eyes flickered to her before they returned inexorably back to Harry.

Those eyes froze Harry. What should he do? What did Malfoy want from him?

"Rest up mate, we'll be downstairs if you need us" Ron calmed, slinging his lanky arm over Hermione.

So the three were connected together. Harry on the outskirts as if looking in. A trio, the blond, the brunette and the ginger. And Harry ached to feel unstuck, to move. But he was so tired and confused, he hadn't been left alone all day. As much as he wanted to learn more about this strange trio, the dynamic the four of them shared, he was desperate for some time to think. To rest.

"Right. I'll just..." 

Draco hadn't said anything, not since Harry refused his help. But Harry figured he didn't need his permission, it was his house after all and left.

As he shut the door he heard:

"Did you take the photos down?"

"Yes, I didn't want to overwhelm him"

Harry paused.

"Patients usually need to time to adjust, and I didn't want to thrust it all upon him. He needs to be comfortable and grounded in what's familar. I figured it was the least I could do."

"That's so kind Draco."

"Yeah man, I can't imagine how rough this is for you."

"Well it's no picnic" an undignified snort came out. "But Harry comes first."

There was some shuffling before Harry heard Hermione say, 

"Oh Draco, come here." 

Harry's brain felt fried. He couldn't deal with this information. Draco had thought about so much more than Harry realised. He'd been trying to aid his recovery in so many small ways.

Harry staggered down the hall towards the stairs.

What else had he missed?

That his husband was dealing with for him.

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