What's in a memory?

Chapter Fifteen 

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Meanwhile Draco was trying to continue his evening routine, whilst Harry was getting lost in the past. Draco needed to remain in the present.

He continued to prepare dinner, and asked Teddy to join him. Determined on having a relaxed evening off.

"Is dad not joining us?" piped up Teddy. 

Or not.

"He'll join us when he's done in the study." Draco explained.

"Oh, can I go see him?" Already standing from the table, Teddy prepared to leave.

"No."

Draco regretted how it sounded the second it left his mouth.

"I mean to say, he's busy doing work. He doesn't want to be disturbed."

Draco felt bad, Teddy only wanted to check on Harry after not seeing him for over a week.

Draco had tried to take Teddy into the hospital to visit Harry before he awoke from his comatosed state.

Draco remembered as Teddy had cautiously entered the room.

"When will he wake up?" He had asked taking hold of Harry's hand.

"Soon." Draco whispered. Despite knowing it wouldn't wake Harry.

"But when?"

We..." His mouth was so dry as he answered. "we don't know."

Teddy's eyes became wet.

"Will he?" Teddy whispered, as he looked helplessly down at the clasped hands.

Draco watched as Teddy's hair darkened in colour, a sure sign of his distress.

"Yes!" Draco immediately answered. Not quite believing it himself.  "Harry'll never leave us. Never."

Then with a wink,  "I'd kill him before he tried."

Teddy laughed a syllable, before his downcast eyes returned to Harry's recovering body.

Unable to bear witness any longer. Draco approached.

"Come here, he'll wake up." Embracing his son tightly. "Soon. I promise."

That was the last time Teddy properly saw Harry, so Draco could understand why Teddy was so eager to replace that.

"Let's eat first. Dad will join us when he's finished."

Teddy looked reluctant, he tossed a glance back to the door, as if wishing Harry would suddenly emerge and wrap him up in his arms.

"Okay." Teddy acquiesced and sat back down.

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Dinner, was a quiet affair. Harry was always the bold bosterious one out of the bunch. Draco engaged in polite conversation as he was trained brought up to do.

He'd been trying to break the habit but would revert without his husband's goofy behaviour as support.

Dinner started and finished with nothing important to note.

"Do you want some ice cream for dessert?" Draco asked once they finished. 

"Is Dad dying?" Teddy was figeting, drawing circles onto the tabletop. 

"What?" Truly caught off gaurd. Draco looked up into Teddy's scrunched up face.

"You can tell me." Teddy was clearly determined to get answers, but his face cringed like his bravery was an act. His hair darkened in colour.

Draco tried to gage what was going on in Teddy's head. 

"No. He's not dying."

Teddy looked down at the wooden table, Draco flicked his wand and the dishes whooshed into the sink. Teddy continued to look at the table, hidding his eyes away from Draco, but his hair flickered red. A clear indication that he was feeling more than he was letting on.

"Why would you say such a thing?"

Draco knew he was a rational healer who believed in science, medicine, and magic. But even speaking the words aloud seemed dangerous. As if tempting the universe somehow.

"No." He repeated firmly. "No. He's not."

Teddy glared at Draco, his hair flashed a brighter red. 

"Then what aren't you telling me?" Teddy shouted angrily. 

"Teddy!" He warned.

"No. I know there's something. You wouldn't let me see him and now, he's allegedly 'working' in the office and now you're offering me ice cream!" His hair flaring red and orange, like a living flame.

Draco held his breath. He wished he had his husband holding his hand through this.

Letting it out in a sigh. Draco steeled himself. "You're right."

Teddy, instead of deflating, renewed his energy.

"Godric, so he is" He stood with nervous energy. "Oh Salazar, he's dying." He said under his breath. His hair fading dull grey tones.

Draco moved around the table to come closer. "No, he's not. I swear it. He's not dying."

"You can't fix him, can you?" Teddy didn't appear to hear him. He was pacing holes into the tile. 

"That's why: he was sent home. Why: the papers made a fuss of it. Why: I wasn't allowed to visit him again." Teddy began hyperventilating.

Draco could see the spiral.He needed to stop it in it's tracks.

Like this,Teddy was so much like Harry, It was scary.

"Teddy breathe." Grabbing hold of his shoulders.

"You can't fix him. You fix everyone!" His hair dark one minute, then a vibrant firetruck red. "Why can't you fix it!"

"Teddy, calm down. Dad is fine. Harry is fine. Breathe. Teddy.  Focus on me. everyone is fine. No one is dying."

"But-" He whimpered.

"Teddy." Then enveloped him in a hug. Teddy breathed in his father's familar scent. Slowly releasing tension, folding himself up in his Papa's arms.

Draco hummed and hushed Teddy's shaky breaths and worries. 

Once Teddy was suitably calm. 

"But I do have something to tell you." Draco kept his voice as calm as possible. 

Trying his best to assume his Healer personna. But finding it difficult to speak that way to family.

"You just said-" Teddy whined. 

"Nobody is dying. We are doing everything we can to help Dad. He will get better.  He's just confused, Ted. Do you remember the healers saying he was hurt on the field?"

"uh-huh"  nodding against Draco's chest.

He was dreading the next part.

"Well, when he woke up he was a little confused. Because his head was injured."

"Injured?" Teddy pulled away. 

"Yes. We couldn't tell when he was asleep. But when he woke up, he told us that he's... forgot some things."

"What kind of things?" Teddy looked up at him.

Draco found he was at a loss for words.

"Does he remember me?" Teddy asked desperately.

Instantly Draco answered. "Yes. He does. He could never forget you. He loves you."

Teddy's hair flickered a hundred colours, obviously overwhelmed.

"I'm just letting you know, in case he's a little... different. If he forgets himself. It has nothing to do with you. He still loves you. "

"Is that why he was acting weird earlier?"

Draco winced.

"It is." He said tentatively. 

Teddy was quiet for a moment. Then he looked up, "Will he get it back?"

Draco emphatically nodded.

"I'm doing everything I can to get it back."

"And you're the best." Teddy nodded solemnly.

He had been told this repeatedly by Harry whilst growing up. ('You're papa's the very best healer there is. The very best! he would whisper anytime anyone had gotten sick. And they had always gotten better).

Draco faltered a little, but tugged Teddy close.

"And I'm the best. We're gonna get it back Teddy."

"Promise?"

Draco paused looking into his son's knowing eyes...

"I promise." 

He sighed.

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After Draco had sent Teddy up to bed. He curled up in the lounge with a cuppa and a new book. Trying to take his mind off of promises that healers didn't make (But papa's did), and of husbands' buried deep judging a lifetime of memories in pensieves  but a few rooms away. 

Luna had recently published a book on her travels, and Draco promised to give it a read. The problem was that he felt too agitated to focus on the book, and instead decided to try some mindfulness first.

He started with focusing on tensing and releasing his muscles, stretching them out. Rolling his joints before zoning in on his breathing, inhaling slowly and deeply, releasing calmly, steadily, intentionally.

His body, magic, and mind settled, he threw a blanket over his legs and flipped over the cover page. Finally ready to get lost in someone else's words, and out of  his own head.

Draco was completely entranced. Luna always had an eloquent way of phrasing things; that paired with her quirky perspective on the living world and her out of the box thinking led to an interesting read. 

Draco was on 'Chapter 9: Wrackspurts Dispute in Germany', when Harry appeared at the door. 

"I'm sorry."

The words drifted across the silent gulf between them.

Draco looked up, seeing Harry shuffling from foot to foot. Such a familar gesture of Harry's that his heart ached. 

"I was about to take a break" Draco bookmarked the page and sat up. 

"No, I'm..." Harry had a pained look on his face. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"Are you okay?" 

Harry nodded. 

"Did you watch them all?"

Harry hummed an affirmative.

"Fuck" Harry's eyes were shiny with tears. He gave the room a once over. "Is Teddy asleep?" he asked urgently.

"Yeah. He's up in his room." Draco budged up. Silently inviting Harry over.

Harry took tentative steps towards the sofa, and curled up on the right hand side. Taking care not to disturb Draco's nest of blankets.

"Is there anything you want to ask?" Draco stretched his long arm behind the headrest. 

"It's just...a lot" Harry leant forward, elbows on resting on his knees, and scrubbed his face. 

Draco leaned closer, his elegant long fingers reaching out in practiced motion begining a reassuring neckrub. 

Harry tensed for half a second, before relaxing into it.

They stayed like that for a while.

Harry's eyes closed leaning into Draco's comforting touch. Draco continuing to massage and soothe his tense muscles.

Time passed by like that.

Draco grateful to be allowed this closeness with Harry. Harry feeling relief under his husband's touch.It was a welcome distraction from the overwhleming feelings the memories created.

A moan slipped from Harry under the sweet pressure and release from Draco's massage.The blood rushed to his face in flames, he hadn't meant to.

It just felt so nice. 

So right.

His moan rang out into silence. Draco's fingers momentarily paused, then slid further down working lower on his back. 

Harry drew closer. Like a choreographed dance he half remembered and his body yearned to know.

The comfortable silence wrapped around them. Only disturbed by the crackle and hiss of the fireplace, and Harry's soft, compliant moans.

Without thought or conscious effort Harry's top was magicked away. Allowing more access for the nimble dancing fingers as Harry's core pulsed with magical energy. And Draco's balletic hands kneaded and roamed the entirety of Harry's tense upper body. His healing, loving hands precise and diligent in their movements.

Languid. Relaxed. Like molten caramel. Harry found himself, leaning back, embraced between Draco's strong thighs. 

A cacoon of love and wellbeing enfused him. 

He reached up and idly played with Draco's silver locks.

All at once, all awkwardness took flight like a phoenix from the ashes of what had been. 

A dam in his mind shattered, Harry opened up-

Questions, thoughts, feelings: All laid bare. 

Sometimes tumbling and turbulant, sometimes delicately whispered, a steady stream of consciousness pouring from Harry's injured mind.

A weight lifted- shifted inside- dissolving with each tender ministration from Draco. 

Out of nowhere, Harry suddenly asked, "Did they really do a play about the war?" turning his body, tilting his eyes up at his husband, a mortified expression on his face.

Unable to help himself, Draco laughed, raising a mischievous eyebrow. 

Of course Harry would ask that.

"Indeed they did." Draco relished the grin he bestowed upon Harry's horrified gaze. "And it was comedy gold!" 

"The terrible musical rendition of the 'Oh-so-Great Saviour and his noble friends'" Harry's eyes shut in abject horror.

"A bloody musical!?" he gasped as Draco animatedly continued, clearly enjoying himself.

"The kid playing Harry had this ghastly mophead wig that kept falling over his eyes."

Harry grasped at his head, instinctively flattening his wayward curls. 

The gesture so Harry. So achingly familar to Draco of Harry's Hogwarts days.

He laughed again. Running his delicate fingers through Harry's hair reassuringly. Untangling Harry's own knotted fingers. 

"Deerheart, stop that! I love your hair. It's part of your charm." He grinned down at his devastingly hot partner, threading his hand through the black mane.

"But, alas, it is a fashion disaster, none-the-less. And the school knew it." He winked. A hot, cheeky wink that made Harry's throat inexplicaplibly dry.

And then a truly free, happy laugh that made Harry melt into Draco more.

God, he's beautiful. 

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Later that night, they had repositioned together, amongst the blankets and cushions, on the floor. Harry leaned close, listening to Draco's soothing tone and joyous laughter as he recounted tales.  Harry felt calmer, relaxed, and he just wanted to hear more.

More of the life they shared.

More of the happiness post war.

More of his beautiful husband's voice.

As time passed they began leaning into one another. Harry found Draco's solid presence and his homely scent more than welcome. He began tilting inwards, itching for more of Draco's warmth, more of his voice, just ... well, more.

Draco smiled as Harry leaned into his shoulder, then curled shyly onto his chest. 

He wrapped his arm tighter around Harry and whisper promised he'd hold him as long as He needed, as long as he was allowed. He'd be Harry's anchor in this world. Gladly accepting that as his mission in life. If the fates put him on this earth solely to be Harry's... he reflected quietly, he could ask for nothing more.

Harry snuggled -Because that's what it was at this point- into Draco's chest and breathed in and out, feeling completely at ease. With Teddy upstairs and Draco underneath him, Harry felt at home for the first time since the incident.

"What were you reading?" He mumbled into Draco's shirt.

"Oh" Startled from his reverie in the best way. Draco's chest vibrated as he answered, "Luna's new book"

"Luna wrote a book?" Harry breathed. Pleased for his friend's success but tinged with sadness that he forgot. 

"Oh yes. Her and Neville have taken Flourish and Blotts by storm." 

Wow. 

"Will you read me some?"

"Of course, darling."

Curled up, under the firelight. Draco began to read. His soothing tones, the rumble of his chest, his perfect -riddiculously crisp- pronouncation of each constanant and syllable. The way he rolls his 'R's and seemingly purred his words, had Harry enthralled. Draco could be reading anything at this point -even the seven hundred quidditch fouls or Binns' history notes- and Harry would still fall deeper under his spell. 

Draco kept his reading even and precise. Practically vibrating each time Harry absently brushed or caressed him. Everytime He huffed a breath or breathed out a soft sigh just made Draco want more.

So he read on and as the night wore on-  Harry snuggled ever closer, tighter until eventually he was lying on Draco's lap, gazing into the firelight. 

It's crackle punctuating every sentence. The smell of Draco overriding every word. And his perfect, calming voice washing over Harry's every thought. 

Harry seemed so peaceful that Draco had wondered if he had actually drifted off. Understandably so, after the emotions of the day. "Harry?" He whispered. 

"Yes?"

"I thought maybe you were sleeping, you were so still." Harry shook his head slowly

"I was thinking...Maybe... We should ... go to ... our bed?" He murmered haltingly. Leaving the question hanging in their newfound peace. 

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