Memory Loss (Harry Potter Drarry slash)

4: [Memory Loss 4] Once a Malfoy, Always a Malfoy?

"What's this name you're always calling me?"

Breakfast was sheer pain for Harry, because each minute that ticked by made him recall even clearer what he had lost and might never regain. This should have been a pleasant meal savoured in their own apartment-they should have been living their dream, the dream that they had shared for two years at Hogwarts. So many hours had been spent planning their future together-the Auror training and everything-and Harry refused to admit that it had all been in vain.

They would get there, eventually. At least he had the comfort of knowing that one Draco Malfoy was trying to surface-but it was not his Dracums.

Do you know who I am?

Those six words still played on his mind. Those six words had come straight from the Draco Malfoy that had enjoyed mocking him in the school corridors, the Draco Malfoy that had provoked him into losing his position on the Gryffindor Quidditch team in their fifth year, the very same Draco Malfoy that had been relied upon by his cruel father to become a vicious, blood-thirsty Death Eater. It was the wrong Draco, but it was an advancement nonetheless.

He poked his fork into the boiled egg in front of him. "Hmm?" he mumbled absent-mindedly.

The blonde wolfed down another sandwich. "That name-what was it? Dennis?"

"Draco."

"Yeah, that's the one. What is it?"

"What do you mean?"

"Well, why are you calling me that?"

"Because that's your name-Draco Malfoy. That's your name."

"Is it really?" the blonde wondered thoughtfully. "Doesn't sound right."

"Well, it is."

"I guess. If you say so." He took another bite of his fourth sandwich. Still had the same appetite, apparently ...

Draco noticed that Harry was looking at him with a depressed look on his face. "What?" he queried. "Why are you looking at me like that? Am I offending you or something?"

Harry quickly shook his head. "No. No, you're not offending me, it's just ... I miss you. The real you. The person you were when you left me."

The blonde stared at him for a while. Then, he said, "Well, if I left you as you say, what is there to miss? Shouldn't you be angry with me or something in that case? Or at least cry."

"I did my crying already. And it wasn't like that ... You didn't leave me leave me, if you know what I mean. You just ... left me. There were things you needed to sort out, and I couldn't help you with that. You wouldn't let me."

Draco swallowed the last bit of his sandwich and drank two deep swigs of milk. "Your hallucinations are actually starting to intrigue me," he said in an amused tone of voice. "Never know what you're going to tell me next."

He started to make himself a fifth sandwich. Just butter on his bread.

Hermione came in from the living room. "Good morning," she said, and yawned. "Sleep well, Draco?"

"Like a baby." At first he did not reflect much over his choice of words, but then he obviously remembered what Harry had called him that very morning and grew pale. He looked down at the table.

Hermione sat down next to Harry and began to make her own sandwich. She was just about to say something else when a loud Pop! interrupted her and Ron came into the room.