Unrequited Love (Drarry Fanfic)

Chapter Nine - Not Even Enemies

Harry woke with a rush of nausea that sent him lurching over the side of his bed; a bucket already in place, he spilled his guts as cleanly as he could. Wiping his mouth, he leaned back, and Madam Pomfrey greeted him with a small "morning Mr Potter, how are you feeling?"

"quite well after that, actually.'

"Good, drink this.'

Harry obliged and drank the potion, wincing at the bi tter taste, but he felt refreshed after swallowing.

"thank you," he exasperated.

Harry then stayed in the hospital ward until lunch because Madam Pomfrey insisted he must. And those couple hours alone gave Harry more than enough time to realize he had no recollection of the night before, or more specifically, no memory of the party. Rubbing his temples slowly, Harry tried to grasp any memory, but it only frustrated him.

Madam Pomfrey bustled back in, and the young boy gave her a sizeable fake smile, hoping she would see that he was fine and ready to be discharged. She sighed and looked at him with contemplation. "you know I'm keeping you here as a punishment. I'm well aware that you aren't ill anymore, Mr Potter. But you did indeed drink an unknown potion. I should be telling your house, professor." she clicked her tongue and walked closer. Harry twiddled his fingers nervously. Right... that's why he was here; he drank something unknown. Was that why he couldn't remember anything?

"What possibly made you think that was a good idea anyway? did one of your friends dare you? were you trying to impress a girl. If you tell me, I might consider not reporting you." she smiled, but it didn't make Harry feel much better. Even if he wanted to tell her the truth, he couldn't.

Why he drank that potion is as much of a mystery to him as it is to her; Harry thought being dared sounds plausible, trying to impress a girl?... yeah, not so much...

"I.. was trying to impress a girl," he laughed insincerely, hoping she would believe him.

Exhaling slowly, Madam Pomfrey seemed pleased enough with the answer, "alright, well, you are just a boy after all. But.. I'll tell you a secret, girls aren't impressed by boys who are stupid. It's only other boys who find those dares amusing, so unless you're trying to impress a boy, I'd consider not acting that way in the future," She chuckled to herself before finally approving Harry to leave.

"Right, I will keep that in mind.." reaching the door, Harry looked back at Pomfrey. "Madam? are there any potions that cause memory loss?"

The older women's eyebrows furrowed together, and she stood quickly and met with Harry at the door.

"Are you experiencing memory loss, Potter, because if you are-"

"no, no, it's just for a project, th-thanks again. I should get to lunch. My friends are probably wondering where I am and that project,. Yeah I should really get started on it.. uh, bye!" biting his tongue, Harry hurried off before Madam Pomfrey could pull him back inside.

In his common room, Harry stiffly found a spot to sit. Sliding down upon the armchair, he shut his eyes just as he felt a headache reaching around his skull again.

At least appreciating the room's silence, since this was the weekend, most people were out in the courtyard, still sleeping or wandering around the school with friends. Harry's mind drifted back to last night's events. Harry could barely grasp a few very distant memories, mainly from the start of the night; perhaps recalling these would unlock a few more. He remembered arriving, dancing with a girl, talking with Fred and George, and some mindless chatter with a few classmates, and something else, Malfoy. The clearest memory left behind is Harry looking at Malfoy across the room, watching him drink, smile and laugh, thankfully in this memory Draco was far away from him, beyond touch.. erm then everything goes hazy. Guess that's not very much at all, Harry groaned, frustrated with himself. He must have done something foolish to end up where he is. Thinking harder, all that was left were Blurry images of one of the school hallways, red hair.. probably Ron. Blonde hair? Sweet smells and wetness? blonde hair made him nervous, but his only memory was watching Draco across the crowd, he wasn't near him Harry reminded himself. Harry pulled his knees to his chest and shut his eyes harder; something else... subsided from the night, feelings. He had feelings still lingering in his chest. Nervousness, excitement, embarrassment and wanting. But what he wanted, Harry obviously couldn't remember, only that he wanted it, really bad. It's like when you walk into a new room and suddenly forget why you went in there; you feel you needed to, wanted to, but the reason and what you were looking for has vanished from your mind. Gods, it was frustrating.