𝐢 𝐰𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐭𝐨 𝐫𝐞𝐦𝐞𝐦𝐛𝐞𝐫 𝐦𝐞.

3.

Dumbledore took the boys inside and led the path with a fast pace - especially considering his advanced age. Draco and Harry followed him anxiously, while Ron and Hermione made their way back to Herbology class.

When the man stopped walking, Draco seemed a second away from throwing up. Harry wasn't much better: he was barely even blinking. They were both way too nervous to break the silence, so Dumbledore ended up being the one to do it.

"So, boys, I believe you both have done some previous research regarding this powerful object?"

"Hm, not really, professor." Harry said, embarrassed.

"I see."

They were standing in front of a sort of basin, which seemed to be made of some kind of metal and contained different symbols and stones.

"Well, one simply siphons the excess thoughts from one's mind, pours them into the basin, and examines them at one's leisure. It becomes easier to spot patterns and links, you understand, when they are in this form."

"So basically," Draco started "we are going to watch our own thoughts-"

"Or memories."

"Or memories" he continued "as if we were a spectator?"

"That is correct, Mr. Malfoy."

However, there was an important factor missing in that equation.

"Professor?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"What if... What if one happens to not fully recall the memory they want to take a look at?"

Draco gave him a nervous look, while Dumbledore stared at both of them, his suspicions growing even more.

"Interesting question, Harry. Well, memories are memories, no matter what. They are still inside of you and the pensieve will certainly understand that."

"Right."

"So, who is going first?"

Silence.

"Mr. Malfoy, let's begin with you." Dumbledore decided.

"Why me?"

"You should focus on the memory you want to see." He ignored Draco's question. "and do as I say.

"Wait!" Harry shouted, out of nowhere.

Draco had a sudden flashback.

He remembered entering the Gryffindor dormitory, Harry's hair looking perfectly messy in front of him. The room was empty, except for the two of them, who quickly placed themselves in what Draco thought to be Harry's bed.

They were both... laughing?

That wasn't the weirdest thing, though. After they had laid down, Draco remembered...

He remembered staring into the already familiar yet unreachable emerald eyes that had been placed in front of him. And Harry was doing the same, something new glimmering in his eyes.

For a split second, their lips almost touched. However, Harry's voice suddenly made Draco become still.

"Wait." He said. Draco wasn't even blinking: his body was alert, watching for Harry's every move. "What are we doing?"

"I'm not sure." Draco answered, in a barely audible whisper.

They were silent for a bit, most likely reflecting upon what they were about to do. Or about what they had done already. How had they gotten there?

Even so, Draco wasn't ready to let it go.

Hence, he pushed Harry's chin just enough so that'd the boy would be facing him and made use all of his drunken strength to let out the following statement:

"It feels right, though. D-doesn't it?" - He stuttered during the last part.

Draco Malfoy couldn't believe the position he was in, and neither could Harry. However, he didn't feel any different.

"Yeah. I guess it d-does."

In a matter of seconds, their lips began approaching again, yet the rest of the night was still a blur.

Draco didn't wait for Harry to finish his sentence. In fact, he ran out of Dumbledore's office as fast as he could, while trying to find a single logical answer to his new acquired memories. Still, only one word came to his mind.

Fuck.