Diffraction Patterns (I Don't Know How to Forget You)

Chapter 5: Diffraction

"Matter feels, converses, suffers, desires, yearns and remembers."

------------------------------------------------------------------------

Draco was all nerves and tension as he traipsed across the grounds. It was dark; the moon was no more than a soft sliver in the sky. Muscle memory guided him as he wove between the trees, stepping over thick roots and avoiding stray branches. It was time to talk to Harry. The very thought sent a veritable tidal wave of anxiety bursting through him, but he needed to know. He thought he might go mad, analyzing every little thing Harry did in an attempt to understand how he felt. And what if tonight his mind offered up a different memory, and they were able to erase his Mark? What if this was the end of their meetings? He couldn't bear the thought of parting without at least trying, as best he could, to convey his feelings.

Draco hadn't realized he was holding his breath until he stepped into the clearing and it blustered out of him. There, sitting by the emerald blanket, was Harry...and next to him was Granger. Draco stopped short. Her presence felt wrong. All wrong. This was supposed to be their place, and now she was invading it.

Harry must have sensed his trepidation, because he jumped to his feet and strode over. "Hey," he said, a soft smile on his face.

"Hi." He continued to stare at Granger.

"Hermione came to help," Harry said. He stood so close that Draco could smell the fresh, clean scent of laundry on him—and then he reached out for Draco's hand. Wondering if he had just walked into some bizarre hallucination, Draco hesitated before taking Harry's hand.

Calmly as possible, Draco managed to ask, "Help?"

"With your Mark. I told her what's been happening." When Draco frowned, he said quickly, "I didn't tell her everything. I just said you have a memory you don't want to erase."

"Well." He took a deep breath, steadying himself. "I guess that's alright."

"She only wants to help. I promise."

It was difficult to ignore that little prickle of mistrust. But Harry's open, eager face was reassuring. "Fine. But you could have warned me."

"It was a last-minute thing. I know it's a lot. But please trust me."

Harry led him to the blanket. Granger, to his surprise, did not look at their linked hands; instead, she smiled sympathetically at Draco. "Hi."

"Hi."

"Go on, Draco, lay down," Harry said. He withdrew his hand and placed it on Draco's back, gently urging him forward. Feeling very foolish—and vulnerable—Draco crawled onto the blanket. He arranged himself as comfortably as he could while Harry took his spot next to Granger.

"So." Granger had a book in her lap, and she began flipping through it. "Harry's given me some of the details. There's a memory you don't want to erase. Is that right?"

"Right."

"Mmm." She reached back and pulled out her wand. "Do you mind if I give us some light?"

"Go ahead," he grunted.

"Lumos." The light from her wand was so strong that Draco shielded his eyes, squinting.

"How has your Mark been?" Harry asked.

"Alright."

"And you slept okay? After last night?"

He hadn't. Not really. His dreams had been filled with terrible, haunting eyes and a brutal voice urging him to be quiet. But he didn't want to reveal that to Granger. Instead, he merely shrugged. Harry frowned and opened his mouth to speak, but fortunately, Granger cut him off.