3: [Memory Loss 3] I don't even know your name

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Draco came to several hours later, and the first thing he became aware of was the immense pain in every limb and every muscle of his entire body; the second thing was the alarming dizziness when he tried to sit up. His left eye was swollen shut, and he was bleeding from two cuts in the forehead. His right wrist was broken.

Must have fallen on it when I fainted, he thought grimly. He was surprised to be alive despite his father's words. But on the other hand, the old man had said that he knew something worse than death, and Draco did not doubt it. His father was a cruel man, capable of anything.

He gazed around at his surroundings. Two men were watching him, apparently waiting for him to wake up. He wondered where they had taken him; he did not recognize the place, which meant that he was not at the Manor anymore.

"Welcome back, Draco," one of the men said, the bigger of the two. Draco recognized his voice, but he could not quite place it. "Your father has ordered us to take care of a little something for him."

"Oh, really?" Draco croaked. Blimey, his throat was burning!

The smaller man laughed. "Yes, we have distinct orders to cast a Memory Charm on you-"

"-to make you forget your little boyfriend," the bigger man finished. "And then ... we have orders to kill him."

Draco felt fear wash over him. No ... anything but that ... not Harry ...

He wanted to hit them, kick them, kill them, whatever, but he could not even muster enough strength to lift his own head. All he could do was to watch as the two Death Eaters raised their wands. He closed his eyes as a pure reflex.

The bigger man was the one who spoke: "You won't remember anything about your precious Potter, and you certainly won't ever meet him again. You're condemned to forever live in oblivion."

And then they both cast the spell.

"Oblivius!"


______________________________________________


She watched over him every day and did not leave his side for a minute, not even to eat or to go to the bathroom. Ron brought her food from the kitchen, so romantically loyal despite the fact that he neither could nor liked to cook, and she easily managed her toilet duties by using a spell on herself that effectively drained her of all excessive fluids and emptied her bowels.

She was worried about him. The only movements he made were the mechanical fluttering of his eyelashes when he blinked and the automatic rise-and-fall rhythm of his breathing. He never ate, never slept. Not for three whole days.

It became more obvious now than ever how much Draco must have meant to him; something they had all strongly doubted during the past two years. It simply seemed too absurd to be true, their love for each other. But now Hermione had become a believer. When she saw the agony and the emptiness in Harry's eyes, she knew in her heart that Draco had been his entire life.

They had been inseparable, and now it seemed as if they were forever separated by death.

The hours that went by were all the same; nothing could distinguish day from night anymore. Every minute was the same minute, and every second was the same second. They were caught in a time loop, forever condemned to live through the same hideous moment.

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