Merci pour les revues! I'm especially glad that there are people put there who love this story enough to be searching for it. Sorry that I haven't updated in forever. I've been really busy with other things, but hopefully I will be able to finish this by the end of the summer. I hope that you all like this chapter. And for those of you who are sick of Harry/Alexandria, it'll come to an end within the next few chapters.
The Memory That Was Forgotten
Two weeks later, on the fourth of October at around seven-thirty, Jaida said the password that would allow her entrance to Draco's room. Before dinner, he'd sent her a note with Goyle asking that she meet him in his room afterwards and had also told her that he wouldn't be joining her for the evening meal. Knowing that Pansy Parkinson would use Draco's absence as a golden opportunity to make the meal a nightmare, Jaida had opted to sit with her brother and sister at the Gryffindor table.
As she stepped through the door, she saw Draco with his back slightly turned to her as he sat before his oak wood desk reading what seemed to be a letter. Not wanting to disturb him, Jaida watched as his facial features changed with every word that he read, wondering all the while what it was. She could find out in an instance, but not wanting to intrude on his privacy, she didn't. It wasn't until Draco had finished reading the letter that he turned completely and saw her standing before the closed door.
"How long have you been standing there?" he asked. He sounded antsy as if he didn't want her to know what was really going on.
Jaida shrugged. "No longer than a minute."
"Evanesco." With one word, the letter disappeared and Draco motioned her towards him. "I have something for you."
Jaida walked across the room to him, and it came as no surprise when he pulled her down into his lap. For what seemed like three minutes, Draco just stared at her as he ran his hands through her hair and laid his hand protectively on her arm.
Jaida watched him as he did so and knew that something was amiss. This wasn't the first time that he'd done something like this, and she was just about ready to seek other methods of finding out what really was wrong. It bothered her when he acted this way and it did little to ensure that he trusted her when he gave her brief responses that did nothing to satisfy her concern.
"Draco, what's wrong?" She whispered. She watched as Draco ran his hand up her arm and placed a finger over her lips.
"Shh."
As his face came closer to hers, Jaida closed her eyes knowing that he was going to kiss her. She never opened her eyes during their kisses to see if his were as well. She didn't trust herself if she found out that she was allowing herself to fall for him, while he treated her like some prize. It wasn't as if she thought this-she knew better than that from their time spent together-it was just that there were always whispers amongst the other Slytherin girls, and the more that she heard was the more that she became bothered.
His lips brushed against hers quite softly at first and gradually, the pressure increased as he slowly used his tongue to pry her lips apart. She gave in almost instantly, always hungry for his kisses, and tilted her head slightly as it deepened. As always, Jaida immediately began to feel the effects of having Draco toy with her, and soon her breaths became short and her head began to spin as the heat quickly spread through her body and threatened to make her delirious. She moaned softly, which only served to turn Draco on even more, and soon his hands were traveling up her knees, towards her inner thighs, and finally, into her knickers. Jaida struggled not to let out a loud moan as Draco's hands ran through her curls and divided her legs, slipping a finger inside. Unknown to most (as they preferred to believe otherwise), Draco was the first person that Jaida had allowed to get this far with her and though she didn't know why, she was glad that she'd waited and not succumbed to the pressure so many months before. She honestly cared for Draco, that much was clear.
Before she could stop herself, Jaida broke away from the kiss and bent her head so that she could kiss Draco's neck. Draco wasn't one to show immediate emotions, but it wasn't long before the magic of her tongue caused his breaths to become shallow as well. She knew that she'd have to work extremely hard to get him to moan, and that was exactly what she was trying to do. She felt as he turned the chair slightly and used his free hand and unbutton her blouse. In seconds, Draco's hands were cupping her breasts and as she pulled away to allow him to have access to them, the door to the room opened, causing both of them to freeze. At first, Jaida had no idea as to whom the intruder was, but as soon as the expensive perfume hit her nostrils, she knew that Pansy Parkinson was in the room.
"Shit!" Draco cursed. In the blink of an eye, he'd removed his hands from her completely and had her blouse buttoned.
"Draco, darling..." Pansy sang. Jaida closed her eyes and groaned inwardly as she tried her hardest to not hex Pansy for what she'd done.
Without warning, Draco used his feet to turn the chair to face her, catching her completely off guard.
"As you can see, Pansy, my darling is in my arms."
The look on Pansy's face was priceless and Jaida tried her hardest to not laugh. Instead, she buried her head in his chest and allowed her dark curls to hide her smile. Even if he was only doing it to annoy Pansy, she liked being called his. Before Pansy could recover however, Draco spoke up.
"I'm busy Pansy, what is it that you want?"
Pansy's face regained its colour as her pupils grew slant. "I'm going to tell Professor Snape!"
Jaida looked up suddenly as she knew that she could get into serious trouble for being caught in such a position, and by a prefect no less. Draco however, seemed positively unmoved.
"Very well, Pansy. And while you're doing that, I'll be in here changing the password to my room so that you can never trespass again!"
Pansy stomped her feet on the ground looking very much like a spoilt child and made a sound which resembled that of banshee. "Go to hell, Draco Malfoy! You and your little half-twit!"
Draco's lips formed into an icy smile. "Trust me Pansy, we'll be seeing you there. Now get out of my room before I hurt you."
If looks could kill, Pansy would have killed them both. With the swish of her flowing robes, Pansy Parkinson was gone and Jaida heard Draco sigh. He shifted slightly and eased her out of his lap then took up his wand and went outside. When he returned, she had more than suppressed her urges for him and he could tell this. She knew that he was upset because they were disturbed, but as usual, Draco didn't show it. Instead, he went over to his bureau and opened one of the smaller drawers.
With her back turned to him, Draco snuck up behind her and she felt something cold against her skin. Looking down, she saw a thin platinum necklace with a small dragon pendant. She held the back of her hair so that Draco could hook the necklace and raised her hand to eye the pendant. It had emerald eyes and greatly resembled the one that was on her ex-house's banner. Draco turned the chair slightly so that she was facing him and pulled her up slightly.
"D-"
"Shh."
Once again, Draco placed his fingers to her lips. She was about to tell him that he didn't have to go out and buy her anything, but she knew that he didn't want to hear it. Draco Malfoy never did anything without seriously thinking it over, especially when it came to buying gifts. Unknown to her, she was the first woman besides his mother that he'd ever thought of purchasing anything for, and to actually go out of his way to have it specially made... that really said something about him. In his usual silent manner, Draco was officially branding her as his. The next day as Jaida walked through the halls, the others would see the chain and whisper knowing the same thing as well.
When Draco kissed her, it wasn't to attempt to turn her on once more (which he could), it was to make it official, almost as if the two were signing a mutual agreement. He didn't know why, but there was something about Jaida that kept him wanting more. He said all of that and more with the single kiss.
Jaida left shortly after, and it was only then that Draco remembered the situation that was at hand. Seeing Jaida had made him forget all of his problems, and for that brief period of time that there were together, he was able to do away with his worries. Now as he said the word that would make the letter from his father reappear, Draco sighed as he sank into his chair and read it for the fifth time. Unlike the first letter, this one was short and precise, exactly the way that Lucius Malfoy always conducted his business. As always, the letter was written in code.
October 4th, 1996
Draco,
This is the first time in your entire existence that I have ever allowed you to have a choice in any matter. You have one month in which to make your decision as to the situation at hand. Do not let me down.
Father
With the flick of his wand, the letter turned to ashes before his eyes. He called for a current, which carried the ashes out of his room and towards the Forbidden Forest. Once that was done, he retreated to his bed knowing that he'd get little to no sleep as he pondered what was to be done.
*
As Draco's head fell softly against his imported pillows, Harry Potter made his way through the dungeons towards Professor Snape's office. He was going because of his Occlumency lessons, and he was counting down to the days when Snape would say that he no longer needed them.
Over the past month, determined to "overcome his fear" as Moody had put it, Harry had become stronger with each lesson and there wasn't a night that went by that he fell asleep without first clearing his mind. He'd gotten so skilled at it that he found himself doing it in the day as well, selecting only thoughts that were relevant at the moment, and leaving the others at the back of his mind and out of harm's way.
Snape no longer used his wand to try and retrieve his thoughts, but rather did it as Voldemort, by channeling him and always at moments when Harry least expected it, such as now. He had barely made it through the door before Snape attacked. Though he was prepared, Snape's effort allowed him access to a part of his memory that he never knew existed.
The office swam around him before he was engulfed in new scenery. Before him, a woman with beautiful red hair lay sobbing on the floor. In an instance, Harry knew that it was his mother. From somewhere in the room, a voice hissed and his mother looked up. Seeing her with the pained expression on her face caused a tiny pang in Harry's heart as he reached out to her, but in vain. She looked straight passed him at whatever it was that lay behind him.
Turning, he saw that it was an overturned crib and that a younger version of himself lay screaming on the floor as he reached out to his mother. A figure in a black hooded cloak raised a pale arm and Harry saw his wand's brother. His mother ran towards the crying infant, pleading with the hooded stranger to take her instead as she did so, and he saw the flash of green light. A surge of anger went through Harry and Lily Potter vanished as he hit the cold dungeon floor. In no time, Snape was before him with an outstretched arm. Almost helplessly, Harry took the hand and allowed Snape to lead him over to a nearby chair.
Countless emotions ran through him as the image repeatedly attacked his mind. He didn't remember such a vision, but knew that he'd had to have witnessed it or else it wouldn't have popped into his head. Snape hadn't been there on the night of his parents' murder, and he knew that even if he had been, the Professor didn't hate him that much so as to send such haunting images to his head.
"Potter!" Snape called.
Harry looked up only as a reflex, as he hadn't really registered what was going on. He kept seeing the image of his pained mother as she lay sobbing on the floor and wondered where his father had been. Deep within, he knew the answer; James was already dead.
"You don't remember that, do you?" Snape asked.
Numbly, Harry shook his head before once more lowering it. He wondered why he hadn't remembered such a thing, and better yet, why he was remembering it fifteen years later.
"Potter."
Harry wordlessly looked up at Snape.
"I'm going to go and speak to Professor Dumbledore about what I saw." It was more of an announcement than anything else, and Harry knew that even if he had wanted to keep the image to himself, he'd have to kill Snape before that happened.
"Do you need to go to the infirmary?"
Harry shook his head and looked down at his hands. He swore that they looked just like his mother's.
"Then I suggest that you go up to your room and try to get some sleep. We'll resume later after I've discussed this with the Head Master." Snape went over to his desk and before he could say another word, Harry dragged himself up out of the seat and left.
As he walked towards the Gryffindor tower, it seemed as if all the life had been sucked right out of him. Before his very eyes, the colour was draining and he was left in a gray haze. The only thing that he could see was his mother's red hair as she covered his infant-like face. In the corners of the hallway, he saw the hooded figure with the raised wand and when he blinked, he saw the green light that marked Lily's death. He now understood how Mrs. Weasley's had felt that day during the summer before his fifth year as she attempted to get rid of the boggart.
He shivered slightly and tried his hardest not to breakdown. He would deal with this once he was safely in his bed with the curtain shut. There, he would put a silencing charm around his bed, so that he could block out the noises around him as well as prevent his roommates from hearing him should he cry. As he reached the portrait, the blood in his head began to attack the corners of his brain, and Harry grimaced knowing that he really did need to get to his room.
"Password..." the Fat Lady trailed off as she saw Harry's expression. "What's wrong love?"
"Blast-Ended Skrewts." Harry replied dully.
The Fat Lady nodded understanding that he wasn't in the mood to speak with anyone and slowly revealed the entrance to the Gryffindor common room. Surprisingly, as Harry stepped through, he found that the common room was fairly empty, except for a few first years that didn't look up as he entered, and Alexandria Megghross, who did. From the expression on her face, Harry knew that she could tell that something was wrong. She looked as if she wanted to wanted to rise and ask if something were amiss, but at the same time, didn't want to disturb him, should he want to be alone.
"Where's Hermione?" He asked as he reached her armchair. Alexandria looked a bit put down at the mention of Hermione and though he knew why, he was in no mood to start taking everyone else's feelings into consideration. He just wanted to know where his best friends were. He didn't want to speak to them, but seeing his mother like that made him want to at least make sure that they were safe.
"She's asleep; she went up to the room over half-hour ago."
Harry nodded knowing that she'd gone to bed immediately after he left for Snape's office.
"And Ron?"
"Ron's out with Luna, Harry, you two left together."
Harry had completely forgotten everything that had occurred since the moment that he'd entered Snape's office.
"Harry what's wrong? Why do you look as if your entire family has just died?" Alexandria got up from the armchair and gave him a concerned look.
Harry looked up at her with the same expression that he'd given Snape after he'd pulled him back to reality. "They have."
Alexandria looked at him confused. "Harry, what are you talking about?"
My mother..." He looked directly into her blue eyes for the first time since he'd entered the common room. "I just saw her die."
"But Harry, I thought that your parents died when you were a baby... I don't understand."
"They did... It was just a memory... A memory that I'd forgotten that I'd had."
For the first time since he got into the room, Alexandria looked at him as if she really understood what he was going through. She no longer looked wildly confused, but bore a look of clarity on her face. Harry did not want to hear her say that she was sorry.
"Listen, I'm going to go to bed, okay?"
Alexandria nodded slowly. "Sure, I have an assignment to do anyway."
Harry gave her one last glance before walking away. He knew that she was a bit hurt that he didn't want to talk to her, after all, they had been acting like a couple ever since the Hogsmeade weekend, it was just that it wasn't official. But as much as he liked Alexandria, he didn't want to talk about his feelings with her, or anyone else for that matter. He wanted to sort them out on his own and since the next day was Saturday, he knew that he didn't even have to get out of his bed.
When he got to his room, he found that the lights were out, which meant that Neville and the others had gone to bed, something that he was glad for. Without even changing his clothes, Harry kicked off his sneakers and crawled into his bed. After whispering an Anti-Sound charm, Neville's snores immediately ceased and before he could stop himself, Harry began to cry.
Just as Draco had done a little over an hour ago, Harry closed his eyes knowing that he would get little to no sleep that night. Finally, the two had something in common.
*
-Where's Draco? Why isn't he at breakfast?
The same reason why Harry isn't at breakfast. Family problems.
-He's thinking about them right now. Hasn't slept all night.
I know, Draco's doing the same thing.
-I just wish that I could do something to help him, but Harry wouldn't even talk to me last night. He asked about Hermione and Ron then he went off to bed.
The same with Draco. I was trying to talk to him last night, because I knew that he'd gotten another letter, but he refused to say anything to me.
-Well at least he went as far as to claim you as his. Despite the fact that we act as if we're a couple, technically, we aren't.
Maybe he doesn't want to have another person stressed out about him.
-I don't understand you.
Look at it. Ron and Hermione are his best friends, so he already has people who are constantly worried about him, maybe he doesn't want to add someone else to the mix.
-Shouldn't that decision be left up to me? I would be the one who'd be worrying, not him. And it's not fair for him to just lead me along like this and then just conveniently drop me. Don't my feelings count?
Love is pain.
-Well if this is even an ounce of what that sort of pain will be, you and I are better off out of love.
Keep telling yourself that until you find that you've already fallen in love and it's too late to escape.
-Whoever told you that?
Maman.
-When did this happen?
When I wrote to her.
-You wrote to her about Draco? Why?
Well who else was I supposed to consult? She did after all marry a Death Eater even though she disapproved of what he did.
-Yes, but wouldn't she be a last resort? Like when you're already in too deep and really need advice.
You already know me enough to even ask that. Anything I do, I do whole-heartedly. Consider my actions as a minor indication as to how it feels to be stuck in quick sand.
-Hhmmm... I just hope that the two of them pull out of their respective funk and not become emotionally scarred from this.
That's all we can do.
-What?
Hope.
*
Early the next morning, Harry could be seen dragging his feet as he made his way towards the Head Master's office. He'd intended on spending the entire day in bed as he'd done previously, but Professor McGonagall's visit to his bedside proved otherwise. Shortly after pulling him from his bed, McGonagall saw to it that Harry did in fact make it to the showers and was currently walking alongside him as they approached the stone gargoyle.
"Chocolate Frogs." She said.
The stone gargoyle jumped aside resulting in the wall splitting open and the moving stone staircase appeared.
"Go on, Mr. Potter. I won't be coming with you."
Harry blinked at the Professor instead of responding and stepped unto the ascending staircase. Dumbledore stood talking quietly to a baby Fawkes who seemed to have just been re-born from his ashes. Harry looked up at the portraits on the wall and found them all to be very much awake and staring intently at Harry. Perhaps they'd overheard Snape's discussion with him, either way, Harry knew that they'd found some way to be well informed as they always were.
"The plate, Mr. Potter." Dumbledore barely looked up from Fawkes as he pointed to a gold plate and goblet that sat on his desk.
Without being given further instructions, Harry nodded and obediently ate the food. He didn't taste anything that entered his mouth; he was just carrying out the mechanisms that he'd been introduced to since birth. When he was finished, the plate and goblet vanished and he looked up to see Dumbledore seated before his desk looking quite cheerful.
"Now, Mr. Potter, let's get down to business."
Harry nodded and sat up in his seat. He felt exactly as he had on the night that Sirius had died, as if a parasite were slowly eating away at his insides, determined to cause as much pain as it could before doing so.
"Professor Snape has informed me that during your Occlumency lesson, you bore witness to a memory that you seem to have forgotten."
Harry nodded at the carpet, noticing that the red was just a few shades darker than his mother's hair.
"Now as much as I know that you'd like to wallow away in that bed of yours, forgetting the world and focusing only on what you saw, I simply cannot allow it. You have to get rid of that memory."
Harry looked up suddenly. "What?"
It was the first time that he'd spoken in almost two days and he dared not imagine the pain that he would have felt had he not drank pumpkin juice before doing so.
"I know that you don't want to, but you've got to get rid of that memory, Harry, at least for now."
"No." Harry stood. "That's not fair."
"I understand that you would rather keep it as it's one of the few that you have of your parents, but at this time in your life Harry, you simply cannot handle it. I'd think that the fact that your one-year-old brain realizing this so many years ago, would be enough for you to understand as well." Dumbledore said rather calmly.
Harry sat down in his seat in defeat as Dumbledore went on.
"Imagine if you were to have been hit with such a memory when you next meet up with Voldemort, Harry. What do you really think would have happened?"
Harry shrugged as he stared down at the carpet.
"You would die, Harry. He would have you at your weakest moment, and He'd use it to eliminate you." Dumbledore answered for him. "We cannot let that happen."
Harry unconsciously ran his hand through his hair and sighed. "Then what do you suggest that I do? Have my brain store it to another location until I may take it out again and properly examine it?"
He didn't mean to sound like a spoilt child, but he wasn't sorry for his remark either. He was tired of being told how to live his life and how to handle his emotions. When would he get to be a normal teenager?
When Voldemort is dead...
"No, Mr. Potter, I do not expect you to do that." Dumbledore slowly rose from his desk. A few seconds later, he returned with a box and handed it to Harry.
Harry opened it and found that inside was a brand new Pensieve. "You want me to store my memory away in this until after I've defeated Voldemort?"
"I'd like you to do that as well as continue your Occlumency classes with Professor Snape. We cannot risk another one of these images appearing when they may work against you." Dumbledore returned to his seat and watched Harry.
"I know that you don't want to, Harry, but it is for your own good. Emotions are very dangerous things if they are not kept in check, and as you can see, you do not handle stress very well. You have to be ready for anything, Harry, and that includes making a few sacrifices."
Harry stared at the Pensieve for a while, his mother's face in his mind all the while.
"Whenever you're ready, Harry." Dumbledore said softly.
Harry nodded and closed his eyes. He knew that he really had no choice. What Dumbledore had said was right. He couldn't afford to have things like these occur when next he met up with Voldemort, nor could he afford to let his emotions get the best of him as he'd done over the weekend.
If he were to be successful as Moody had said, he had to overcome his fear. He knew that after everything was over, if he wanted to, he could gain back the memories and deal with them then, but right now, he simply couldn't afford to have them decimate all the hard work that he'd done over the past few weeks. Finally, he looked up at Dumbledore.
"I need to store something else in there."
Dumbledore gazed at him, quite curious as to what else could be causing Harry problems.
"The night of-of Sirius' death, I need to store it in there. It's been causing problems for me since the beginning of the summer." He whispered.
"Problems?"
"Problems." Harry nodded. "Headaches, insomnia... Problems."
Dumbledore nodded. "I'm glad to see that you can now recognize problems when you have them. But why would you wait for four months before telling anyone of these problems?"
"Because I didn't want to worry anyone." Harry admitted. Now that he thought about, he realized how stupid it sounded. Whether or not it would cause people to worry wasn't the issue at hand, it was his well being.
"Harry, I want you to promise me something." Dumbledore said softly, but quite seriously. "I want you to promise me that no matter what is wrong with you, that you will not hesitate to speak to someone. It doesn't have to be myself or Professor McGonagall, but it has to be someone-preferably one who can help you with the problem, of course."
Harry nodded running his fingers along the edge of the Pensieve as he did so.
"You have to let people in, Harry. A man is not an island, he doesn't stand alone."
Harry looked up at Dumbledore then and looked him in the eyes as he nodded. "I promise."
"Good." Dumbledore stood. "Now on with the proceedings."
Harry stood and placed the Pensieve on the desk.
"Now in order to do this, you have to first think of the memory that you'd like to extract..."
Harry carefully followed Dumbledore's instructions and within minutes, the memories resembled nothing more than a silver substance as they swirled around in the Pensieve, not quite a liquid, but not quite a gas either. Once he was finished, he stepped back and sat down. To Harry, it felt as if a huge weight had been lifted from his shoulders and he began to wonder why he ever questioned Dumbledore's intentions in the first place. Never before had Dumbledore failed him or led him into harm's way; he most certainly knew that now.
Half-hour later, he found himself stepping through the portrait hole into the Gryffindor common room.
He knew from both Hermione and Ron's visits to his bedside that morning that they were in the library doing some last minutes assignments and knowing that he had some of his own to do, decided to go and join them. On his way back down the steps however, he ran into Alexandria who as it seemed, was returning from there with a pile of books in her hand. She looked rather surprised to find that he was up and out of his bed and it suddenly occurred to Harry that besides the three professors, she was the only person that actually knew why he'd taken to bed.
Ron and Hermione had simply assumed that it had been Sirius and had spent the twenty minutes of their visit to his bedside trying to tell him that it was okay to have these feelings and that it would be okay. He'd wanted to tell them that none of them had had to watch the ones that they loved most die, but had chosen not to knowing that he would only hurt their feelings. Now that he was standing before Alexandria, he wondered why he hadn't used that opportunity to clear up his friends' misconceptions.
"Are you okay now?" Alexandria asked. Harry could tell from the look on her face that she wasn't quite sure whether or not it was actually okay to talk to him. He didn't really blame her, after the way that he'd treated her the other night.
"Much better." He admitted.
"Okay." She started towards the girls' staircase and in turn, Harry started towards the portrait hole. Suddenly, Dumbledore's voice appeared from the back of his mind.
"You have to let people in, Harry. A man is not an island, he doesn't stand alone."
He turned just in time to catch Alexandria before she reached the top of the stairs.
"Alexandria."
She turned slowly, her curls sweeping the wind as she did so. "Yes, Harry?"
He lifted his foot about to climb the stairs when he remembered what had happened the last time that he'd tried to do that. Alexandria smiled knowingly and after laying her books down, began to descend. Once she stood before him, Harry decided that it was now or never.
"I wanted to tell you..." Harry trailed off not quite knowing how to put it.
"Yes, Harry?" Alexandria said softly. Somehow, she seemed to put him at ease and Harry knew that what to do.
"I just wanted to apologize for being a prat the other night."
Despite the fact that a group of first year girls were currently watching the two with amused looks on their faces, Harry did what he wanted to do.
Alexandria nodded, and before she could turn to once again ascend the stairs, he pulled her closer and kissed her. He could tell that she was a bit surprised that he'd done so, but almost immediately, she began to loosen up and was responding to his touch. The kiss was short, because they were after all, standing in the midst of all who were in the common room, but it was long enough to have the effect that Harry had been hoping for.
"See you at lunch," he whispered.
Alexandria smiled before turning to go upstairs. Harry watched as she ascended and waved before continuing to the library, ignoring the giggling girls as he did so.
Dumbledore was right, at some point or the other, he'd have to learn to let someone in. He just hoped that by doing so, he wouldn't be putting her at risk.
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