What's in a memory?

Chapter Eleven

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At some point, Harry was stirred and he yawned out his goodnights. Too tired and too relaxed to think. He automatically walked into the nearest bathroom, sleepily brushed his teeth and accioed some pyjama bottoms.

There was one awkward moment when Harry ran into Draco on the way out. Harry panicked internally, as he stood there shirtless in front of his former/future lover.

Christ, this is confusing. 

Draco stepped aside, Harry muttered a quick 'Sorry' all the while keeping his eyes on the floor. As soon as Draco closed the door behind him, Harry darted upstairs (as quick as he dared) to the safety of Sirius' room. 

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While asleep, Harry's brain ran rampant.

Harry didn't remember how he got there, but he suddenly stood in a dark, leafy-green forest. Just trees and shrubbery surrounding him for miles. 

Rain pouring in sheets from above, when dream Harry looked up, he couldn't see beyond the treeline; they were just so impossibly large. 

Shadows at every twist and turn as Harry stumbled around. 

Dazed in the world he found himself in. He only had one thought, Run.

And so he dreamt he was running.

His heart beating hard. His chest tight with the exertion. His muscles tense as moved, dodging trunks and vines. Running in the hope he'd get out of this hellish dark place.

Struggling and lost and all alone.

Shivering in the rain as he ran for miles. Hoping; hoping beyond hope that he'd find salvation. 

He was lost. He felt like he'd been running for hours and all he could see was more forest and dark.

But Harry kept running, despite the cramps, despite the voice in his head saying he'll be 'stuck here forever'.

Thousands of miles of running in the dark wood, desperately trying to find something.

Something important.

Something Harry desperately needed.

By the end of the dream, he'd found it.

Somewhere he was warm. Somewhere safe.

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When Harry woke in the middle of the night, he was a little groggy. Unaware of anything but his own internal clock.

Too early.

He snuggled closer into his pillow, willing for the good part of the dream to continue.

Wanting to prolong the secure feeling, wanting to stay in the safe, warm place he'd found.

As he burried his nose into the surface of his pillow, he noted that it smelled amazing. He nuzzled closer. Harry sleepily tried to find the exact scent and struggled. It smelled like comfort. It smelled like home.

Harry drifted off again blissfully unaware of what he'd done.

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Now the brain is a mysterious place, with many hidden rooms and concealed corners. 

Somewhere in a small crack, buried somewhere safely stored within the deep recesses of Harry's mind, there was a conscious part that knew where Harry was meant to be; Where he'd feel most content and where his body would get the most rest.

His body moved subconsciously whilst Harry dreamt.

Running and running until he found his home, somewhere where he was warm and safe.

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Harry stretched out as he silently awoke. He absently noted that he'd moved in the night and was now plastered to the mattress, face turned to the side. He was pleased to find he slept really well. Although now that he was awake he'd lost the dream entirely.

The comforting feeling remained and the homely smell lingered. 

Harry found that he was spread over the bed, sprawled ontop of his pillow. He found that the pillow itself was firm... and breathing?

“What're you doing, Love?” his pillow muttered.

Harry opened his eyes.

He was greeted with a view of an expansive pale chest, decorated with crossing silver scars.

Harry yelped, scrambling away, and falling off the side of the bed.

“Harry?” Draco's bleary-eyes looked down at him, unfocused and still half asleep.

“What're doing on the floor?” He slurred then unceremoniously fell back.

Harry was horrified to see the halfnaked blonde spread his hand out then proceeded to pat the bed in the universal gesture of 'come here'.

“What the fuck?"

He must of said that aloud.

He hadn't planned to.

But he must've as Draco suddenly sat up, eyes now flashed in recognition as he looked down at Harry on their bedroom floor.

Gone was the beautiful lax face and his expression became alarmed.

“What are you doing?” He queried. 

“Did you bring me here?” Harry acused. One finger raised, still sitting on the carpet.

“Huh?” The blond rubbed the sleep dust from his eyes.

“Did you do this?!” Harry whisper-yelled.

He didn't need Hermione or Godforbid, Ron, walking in on the two of them right now.

He'd have thought Harry slept in here.

Which Harry supposed he had, but not intentionally.

Crap, Malfoy must've...

"Did you bring me here?"  Harry raised his voice as much as he dared. 

Draco slowly blinked back into consciousness, finally processing what was happening. What Harry was asking.

“Merlin Harry, just calm down” Draco said, sounding exhausted, now flattening his behead.

“Did you?” Harry stood now. He needed to know whether this was all some nefarious plot set up to...  something him? 

Because Harry was certainly confused, but mostly angry. Ron said he'd be safe here with Malfoy. 

“Merlin, no Harry.” Malfoy defended, offended that his husband thought so low of him. "As if I'd ever take advantage of you".

“Then how?” 

“I don't know," Draco suppplied  "It was probably some kind of automatic reflex. Muscle memory must've...” Draco yawned. Stopping the rest of his hypothesis. 

“What, it brought me to your bed-?” Harry scoffed.

“-Our bed-” Draco ammended with a sigh. Flopping back, staring up at the celling decorated in constellations. 

“-To what? cuddle?!” Harry said incredulously. 

“I don't know, Harry." Draco rubbed his face again. "That's the best answer I've got before I've had my morning coffee.”

Harry stared at him in disbelief.

Draco shrugged phsycially though internally he was upset at this set back.

This was not how Harry's first morning was supposed to go, Draco thought to himself.

He was further displeased that his dream had ended. It was drifting away from him as hard as he tried to remember, it slipped.

Draco was only left with the feeling that it was a good dream before Harry started making a ruckus.

Draco flipped the duvet down and stood. Accepting that the day had started whether he liked it or not.

It was at this point that Harry's brain exploded.

Harry had been reeling the entiety of the last two minutes.

But when Malfoy stood, Harry could have sworn that the last two of his remaining brain cells had died.

For as Draco stood there, stretching, Harry could see all of his glorious physique illuminated by the morning sun. 

He glowed.

He shone.

Hell, he was light himself.

Harry's jaw dropped as his eyes fixed on the Adonis before him.

Bedhead like a halo. His pale skin like marble. His muscles toned as if carved in all his beauty.

He was unbelievable as his silver scar lines glinted in the light.

He was beyond stunning; He was magnificent.

If Harry had imagined what his husband might look like, everything paled in comparison to this.

Harry was torn between running out of here, screaming and knocking Malfoy back into bed. History be damned.

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In the end, Harry high tailed it out of the room as fast as his legs would allow. Locking the door to Sirius' room, and breathing heavily on the determinedly 'safe' side. 

God, that was Harry's husband?  

An unhelpful part of his brain told him to run back and snog Malfoy senseless. 

I'm so lucky. A gleeful voice chimed. 

Another unhelpful voice told him, it was "a death eater for crying out loud. Do you even have morals?"

I mean, it's Malfoy. 

Get a grip of yourself. 

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The morning, despite Harry's pleas, continued.

Harry's mood was like a swinging pendulum. And he had a headache from all the to-and-fro. 

After a speedy shower, Harry trudged downstairs, dreading whatever was waiting him. 

“Good morning Harry.” Hermione greeted as he entered the kitchen. She was dressed in a blue dress and wearing sensible footwear. Looking as if she'd already had her morning coffee and completed several tasks.  Knowing Hermione, she probably had.

Harry grumbled in reply. Sitting down at the table and watching as Hermione rushed around completing domestic chores and cooking.

He was surprised when she leaned over the table, giving Ron a kiss on the cheek, before handing out plates. 

She used her wand to float items onto the table. All of the dishes looked delicious and had steam billowing out of the crockery.

A full english breakfast, by the looks of it. 

Ron, of course, dives straight for the food, quickly fixing himself up a plate.

Nice to see his apetite hasn't changed.

Ron offered the baked beans to Hermione who politely shook her short curls. Her hair was as unkempt as ever, as if she hadn't combed all sorts of flattening, anti-frizz potions into it. She twirled it into a bun, before she dived with equal enthusiasm, as her husband had to his food, into her morning crossword.

“You alright there mate?” Ron took a breath between bites.

His table manners haven't improved either, Harry thought, as he brushed the spat crumbs off his face.

“Arm's not causing you any trouble, is it?” Hermione perked up, worry bleeding into her voice. "Did you not sleep alright?" Chewing on her bottom lip.

“Was it more nightmares?” Ron inquired as he started on another piece of bacon.

“The healing potions should be an effective enough pain killer.” Hermione debated aloud,with herself.

Harry just groaned into his folded arms.

He truly loved his friends but he'd like a quiet morning after everything; to just digest everything. 

Ron noted Harry's bad mood and tried a new thread of conversation.

“Hey, guess what?" He smiled, then immediately answered himself, "Teddy's back today, that'll be good, right?” 

Teddy.

Teddy who is now ten although Harry's last memory of him was him being two years old.

Teddy who would visit on weekends with Andromeda.

Who pointed at every black haired boy and would gleefully shout “Harry!”

Who was showing accidental magic and careless use of his metamorphigus abilities at eight months old.

Last Harry remembered, He was so proud of Teddy for kicking a stationary football.

Harry took him out for ice cream that afternoon at Fourtescue's and went into visit George afterwards.

Harry had to keep hold of Teddy's hand the whole time, lest he touch a display. (Weasley Wizard's Wheezes isn't exactly the safest place for a toddler but George always brightened up at Harry's godson's presence).

But Teddy wasn't two anymore...

He was ten.

Harry'd virtually no idea how to deal with a ten year old.

He hadn't spent time with primary school kids since he was one...and even then he wasn't an expert.

He's fairly certain that not all ten year olds had to cook two meals a day, and clean the entire house whilst the others fucked off to the park, or theme party.

What do normal ten year olds do?

Dudley went around terrorising his peers.

Godric. Harry hoped Teddy didn't grow up like that.

Yes, it seems Harry had no idea how to interact with a Teddy who was most likely no longer content to sing wheels on the bus, or play hide and seek...

Did see a lot of him? Was he a good godfather?

Harry's breathing turned rough. 

Harry wasn't prepared to see Teddy.

Teddy was small, carriable, loved tickles and stories. Teddy, was squishy faced and curious.

Harry stared at his best friends' bewildered expressions and he remotely nodded at the question.

Sure, Harry will be happily see his godson, but would his godson be pleased to see Harry?

Did he know of the accident? Had Andromeda told him? Was he aware that Harry had forgot everything from the last eight years?

Practically the entirity of Teddy's childhood.

Harry suddenly lost his appetite, delicately pushing his plate away.

Hermione looked displeased at that, she was gearing up to 'mother' him into eating something.

But it was at this point that Draco entered the kitchen who was thankfully now washed and fully dressed.

Harry flushed red remembering this morning.

That's one way to wake up, Harry supposed. Screaming and acusing your husband of kidnapping you for a nighttime cuddle.

Harry tries not to be obvious as he watches Draco forgoe the stacks of bacon for a cup of black coffee.

“Morning” he addressed the room with one of his 1000 watt smiles, before slurping down the bitter liquid. 

Harry grimaces.

Disgusting.

Desperate to distract himself from watching Draco's Adam's apple bob, Harry chose to watch as Ron continues to wolf down his mountain of food, and slurp on his sweetened tea. 

Four sugars, which is equally as disgusting to Harry.

“Morning Draco, did you sleep well?” Hermione shifted, so she could see him better.

“I-” Draco met Harry's gaze before looking away, “It was fine.”

“You weren't struggling without...”

Everyone heard the unspoken ending to her question. 

“No. It was fine.” Draco stressed, again. Sitting down at the head of the table. Pulling out a section of the newspaper, Hermione wasn't using.

Phew, Harry didn't have it in him to look up anymore, and despite not feeling hungry, Harry started plating up some breakfast.

Using that to justify avoiding everyone's eyeline.

Harry wished he was far away.

Keeping his eyes low, he plated up everything carefully. 

Draco watched him warily from his chair. Wishing that this morning hadn't happened. Everything would be fine now. He knew that there was no way Harry was going to eat that stack of baked goods, but watched, silently, as Harry plated it all. 

Wishing he could defuse the tension, he turned to the others.

Hermione resumed her scribbling on the paper and Ron continued to stuff his face. 

“So when's Teddy coming home?” Ron asked. Taking a snacking break to suck down his cuppa with an obnoxious slurp to punctuate his words.

“Oh, about noon" Draco replied. "Andromeda wanted to stop by mum's before dropping by.” Draco said between delicate sips of his own brew.

It was Harry that spoke this time: "Home?” 

“What?” He was so quiet, Draco was uncertain that Harry had spoken at all.

“You said, home?” Harry braved looking at the blond. 

"I did...” He answered cautiously, thrown off by the dazzling glare.

“So, he lives...?”

“Here, Harry where'd you think Teddy'd live?” Hermione answered putting the newspaper down,. Ron continued to munch. Draco held Harry's gaze, desperately absorbing as much as he could.

“Well, he was with...with his grandmother, you know, Andy..." Harry muttered out.

He felt kind of stupid now, why would Andromeda still be caring for him now that Harry's out of training and education, he supposed it made sense for Teddy to live with him.

“Harry, we've been trying not to overwhelm you with too much information all at once.”

“But?”

Harry just wanted to know whatever they were tiptoeing around, this time. He was fed up by all the small snippits of information he was getting. He'd much rather it all at once, so he no longer felt the bubbling fearful anticipation anymore.

“But," She continued, "You should know that Teddy is not just your godson...”

“Ok-ay?”

What does that even mean? 

“Well, he lives with you and Draco, and your his... well, guardians.” She concluded, with a sheepish smile.

Quick as a whip, Harry blurted. “What both of us?”

Instantly, Draco stood up. Knocking the table a little as he did so and swiftly exited the room, leaving his steaming coffee behind.

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