Memory Loss (Harry Potter Drarry slash)

14: [And so the Tables Were Turned 3] One-Way Ticket to St Mungo's

When Draco woke up that morning, he had no idea that he later that day would witness his beloved Harry being hit with the death curse, and for a few naïve hours he thought that this was a quite good day. Sure, they still had not found James, and the boy certainly had not returned of his own accord, but Draco felt optimistic about this day. Something good was going to happen.

Although, Piper soon crushed that feeling by giving him some really bad news.

"Where's Harry?" Draco asked her as he looked through that afternoon's owl post. Hmm, a letter from Neville Longbottom ... interesting ...

He expected her to reply 'He's at school, remember?' or something of the sort, but instead he got a hasty, "He's gone to his old dorm at Hogwarts to collect James before Lord Pywercaseley finds him and makes him his own private slave much earlier than was originally intended."

Draco blinked at her for several seconds. Then, he said, "Huh?"

"He's gone to his old dorm at-"

"I know what you said! But what do you mean, 'to collect James before Lord Pywercaseley finds him?'"

"Somehow, Pywercaseley found out that James was at Hogwarts and decided to strike once he's unprotected by you guys," Piper said, and stuffed her mouth with tomato salad.

All the strength drained out of Draco. His hands were shaking. "Py-Pywercaseley's after my son? And Harry went over there all by himself? Is he mad?!" He hurried to the fireplace.

Piper looked after him. "Hey, where're you going?"

"What do you think? I'm going after him, of course!"

Draco wondered why Harry always had that annoying and infuriating need to protect him all the time-was he not a man?! He could look after himself, and Harry knew that! Only two years ago he had killed sixty-seven Death Eaters in one swipe, for crying out loud! And Harry thought he wasn't focused enough to go after one man!

Oh, I'll kill the bastard when I find him! he thought furiously, and slammed a fist of Floo powder down into the fire. I'll bloody make him see that he's a fucking moron for making such decisions without me! Who does he think he is!?

Draco stormed up to Gryffindor Tower, shaking with anger and humiliation, and fortunately the portrait hole was already open-otherwise he might have been stuck there for an eternity trying to figure out the password. When he had run up the stairs to his and Harry's old room, he noticed that Professors McGonagall, Snape, and Sprout were standing just inside the doorway, looking at something with terror in their eyes.

Draco frowned and turned his head in the direction of their stares - and gasped.

Harry was by their old bed, protectively holding little James in his arms, and in front of him was Lord Pywercaseley, who had raised his wand and was just uttering the death curse, the worst of the Unforgivable Curses. Draco felt as if time had stopped and everything was moving in slow motion, as if the air had turned into invisible syrup, and he screamed. Could not control himself. "Nooooo!"

It could not be true-it must not be true! He could not lose his Harry, not now, not like this, absolutely not like this ... no ... no ... no!

He watched Harry fall backwards, but for a moment he appeared to be floating in mid-air, a surprised and terrified look in his lovely green eyes, before he slammed into the wall behind him and fell to the floor, all the time with a firm grip on James to prevent him from getting hurt in the fall. When it was all over, Pywercaseley barked out a demonic, deranged laugh. With confident steps, he walked up to the limp Potter with the intention of grabbing the boy-but then James hiccupped again and disappeared.