Draco held his regal posture until he was out of sight, then he sped up, stumbling up the stairs, cane clutched uselessly at his side, his vision blurred with tears he refused to shed. Now Harry's friends were back and what Draco had thought was friendship-maybe-more was reduced once more to "nothing" in his mind. So much for what Harry'd said about hating him. Or maybe he really didn't hate him anymore. Maybe meaning nothing to Harry was worse than being hated by him. It wasn't nothing to Draco.
He passed his room almost without realising it, feeling the pulsing pull of the false Remembrall in his mind. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad, forgetting. Maybe without his memories he could start over, could live within his limits because he didn't know anything else. He wouldn't remember the things he'd once done that he could do no longer.
Once he reached the attic, he stumbled to the far corner and stared down at the heavy wooden chest, watching his hand reach out again as if it belonged to someone else. It would be so easy. All he had to do was lift the lid, reach inside...
In the end he couldn't do it. His memories of Potter, of the past several weeks of growing closer to him, were too precious; he couldn't give them up. He collapsed in a heap beside the chest, fingers splayed helplessly on the floor. He wanted to cry, to release some of the pent up emotions thundering through him, but his eyes remained stubbornly dry. It felt like a storm was raging inside him, threatening to rip him apart. The storm passed as quickly as it had come on, leaving him feeling wrung out and numb. He didn't have the energy to move as he felt sleep rushing up to claim him.
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Only Ash Remains
FanfictionOne year after Harry defeated Voldemort at the Battle of Hogwarts, he still has no idea what to do with his life. He's been living at No. 12 Grimmauld Place with Hermione and Ron, but they've spent the past few months on an extended stay in Australi...
