Remember when I loved you-drarry story

Chapter 3

Forgotten memory
Harry jolted awake, feeling horribly off-kilter, to the sound of blankets rustling and hasty shuffling. The room was dark and unusually dimly-lit, with the chandelier flickering feebly overhead. There was a wet, bitter chillness in the air that he quickly associated with the foggy, frigid, extremely early hours of the morning. Shivering involuntarily, he fumbled and groped in the dark for his warm, thick blanket for several minutes, until quiet little thuds of footsteps and a sudden, sharp noise of a crash made him blearily look around, his mind still half-asleep.

Initially, for a few, quiet moments, he couldn't recall anything at all, and he felt too sluggish and drowsy to even make sense of his immediate surroundings. Another silent crash and tiptoeing noises of hurried footsteps trickled into his ears, and he groggily opened his eyes again to stare up at the ceiling of the Room of Requirement. His blurry vision promptly focused on the beautiful silver chandelier, and he blinked repeatedly in utter confusion and bewilderment.

Then, suddenly, without even a warning, a gust of cold, biting air brushed against his manly bits, and a growing awareness of his own nakedness overpowered him.

A shocking realization gripped him. With a loud gasp, he bolted upright and gaped in horror at his scantily-clad body. "What the . . ."

For a moment, he just sat there without moving a single muscle, his eyes wide, his body stock still, as if he were nothing but a sturdy pillar made of meat. Then, he slowly looked up with his mouth agape, letting out a reflexive (and embarrassing) squeak when his horrified eyes met Draco Malfoy's startled grey gaze. Their eyes locked, and Harry's whole world came crashing down around him.

Malfoy swallowed thickly, looking fearful and unsettled and agitated, as if he'd been dreading this very moment. He was fully clothed, but he looked dishevelled and messy. It was evident that he'd been hastily pulling on his clothes to leave as quickly as possible. He stilled like a statue when he saw Harry wide awake and sitting rigidly erect like a fucking pole, utterly naked, with not even a single piece of fabric to cover his dignity.

Malfoy turned hastily, his cheeks as vividly red as freshly-bloomed roses. His shoulders were stiff, and his pale fingers slightly trembled as he pulled on his school robes properly, unable to bear looking at Harry. His arrogant manners and bold, impassive attitude had completely vanished, and his usual, effortless elegance was nowhere to be seen. Instead, his hands shook, and his movements were tense and awkward, as if he'd suddenly forgotten how to use his arms and limbs naturally.

Harry gaped at him in complete and utter shock and bewilderment, his throat fully squeezed shut. There was a profound, unbearable and unbreakable silence for a long time, and Harry quietly drowned in his misery. He waited, waited, and waited some more for Malfoy to say something, anything, but Malfoy wasn't even looking at him.

Harry's thoughts spiralled, and his feelings sloshed around in his chest. He could hardly stand to even be in the same room as Malfoy. Little, tiny bits and disturbing chunks of memories slowly pieced themselves back together in his mind, enough to give him a nearly-clear picture of the current, terrifying circumstances. Surely, Malfoy remembered what had happened?

With an immense amount of regret and guilt, Harry recalled seeing Malfoy weeping in the girls' bathroom. He'd felt bad for Malfoy, and he'd tried to comfort him. Completely forgetting why he'd been stubbornly tailing Malfoy in the first place and barely even caring, he'd suggested drinking in the Room of Requirement.

Harry clearly remembered entering the room and sitting down to drink. He recollected the rich, earthy scent that had consumed his senses, the noise of the cauldron as it hissed and sizzled, and the way Malfoy had looked sitting in front of the fire, his face all flushed, his hair all messed up, and teardrops clinging to his eyelids — after that, everything else was blurry and disconnected. He'd been incredibly drunk, and he could already feel the hangover coming on. His recollection was missing important bits here and there, significant moments, and especially the more intimate memories, which he knew must have to do with him waking up stark naked in bed.