Memory Loss (Harry Potter Drarry slash)

17: [And so the Tables Were Turned 6] I Will Do Anything to Get You Back

Darkness. Silence. Cold. Inner cold. A soul-cold. His soul had an emotional cold caused by betrayal. He felt numb, sedated ... yet he was wide awake. It was as if he was falling through an eternal spiral of pain, just falling, falling, falling ... deeper into nothingness. Into despair-and longing.

He longed to feel Harry's arms around him once more, longed to hear his dark, sexy, semi-hoarse voice whisper obscene invitations in his ear, longed to be kissed, to be touched, to be loved ...

He dreamt strange dreams at night, and even though they were no nightmares they still depressed and frightened him. He dreamt that he was home again, that Harry had apologised and that everything was fine again. They had their own bodies again, and they had their new baby-a beautiful little boy with thick, blond hair just like his father's. They were talking again-about everything, sharing everything-and they were making love again, sometimes tenderly and gently, and sometimes it was just plain hard-core sex. Sometimes it was rather kinky, even-but still nice.

All nice. They were nice dreams, yet he felt betrayed by them because they did not show him the truth; they showed him a reality he wanted and desired, it was not the true reality.

"I hate you," he said aloud to the empty room.

He was not sure whether it was directed at Harry or at himself-or at them both. All he knew was that he had a strong hatred inside of himself, and it was impossible to deny it.

"I hate you."

The silence became oppressive sometimes, but when it did, he would simply pull the quilt up over his head and pretend that he was somewhere else. Later, when the fear had subsided, he would pull the quilt back down and continue to stare up at the curved ceiling.

Sometimes he forgot to eat, but he did not care much. For each day that passed, he hoped that Harry would come to get him, and for every day that he did not come, he hated him a little more.

"I hate you ..." Tears came to his eyes, and his voice sounded whiny and silly. He snivelled and closed his eyes. Oh, he missed James. He missed his baby, his wonderful little baby ...

He wanted his baby back.

He wanted his body back so Harry would love him again.

"I hate you, I hate you, I hate you ... I love you ..."

A tear fell down onto the pillow.

And as the sun set and the last light faded around the edges of the boarded-up window, Draco fell into a troubled sleep.

"I miss you ..."

________________________________

"Tell me already!" he yelled at her indifferent face. "Tell me, for fuck's sake! Where - is - he?!"

Her eyes were as cold and disliking as they had been for the past week. She stubbornly turned away. "I've already told you a hundred zillion times-I - don't - know."

He slammed his fists down into the table. "Liar! Tell me!"

"I don't know where he is! He just left without saying a word about where he was going, and how am I supposed to know how my deranged brother's mind works? You should find it easier to solve that puzzle because you're the one who made him go insane!"