Found, Never Lost

Chapter 14: Looking at Each Other

Tuesday, June 21, 2004

Botanical Garden Berlin, around 11:00

"Sorry," Harry muttered for what must be the twentieth time since they'd entered the greenhouse and told himself that their excursion might be more enjoyable for Draco if he didn't get run over each time he stopped to take a closer look at a plant or study the metal name stake next to it.

Not that Draco was complaining.

Judging from his abrupt changes in direction and those unexpected stops that led to the frequent collisions between his back and Harry's front, he seemed to forget at times that Harry was even there. And that was generally fine with Harry, who was having a hard time focussing on the here and now after the bumpy bus ride they'd had to endure to reach the Botanical Garden.

They'd been bounced around for a good ten minutes, finding themselves in frequent need to hold on to each other's sleeves to stay on their feet, and the almost constant physical contact had wreaked havoc on Harry's ability to string coherent thoughts together. Of course, it didn't improve his concentration that he kept thinking about the previous night; or that with every time he stumbled into Draco, it became harder to keep his hands to himself - which was why he finally shoved them into his pockets.

And he still had to fill Draco in on what Hermione had told him on the phone earlier.

"Penny for your thoughts, Potter."

Well, his run this morning had not resulted in the answer he'd hoped for, but he thought he had at last figured out the "Potter" thing: Draco seemed to use it when he needed to keep Harry at a distance. Oddly enough, it also appeared to be his equivalent for "mate", a word that apparently didn't belong to the vocabulary of elitist pure-bloods like the Malfoys because Harry had never heard Draco call anybody "mate". Still... he wished Draco would say his given name more often...

"Harry?"

"Huh?" He looked up to find Draco gaze at him with a slight frown on his face.

"You're 'spacing out', as you so eloquently put it the other day. What's the matter?"

Harry shrugged. "Nothing. Just thinking."

"You must have a lot on your mind. You've hardly said a word these past twenty minutes."

There was only a hint of sarcasm in his tone, and the way he studied Harry's face did all kinds of things to Harry except improve his ability to think; otherwise he might have pointed out that Draco hadn't said much of significance either... unless one counted plant names or the occasional lecture on some potion or other.

Pull yourself together!

If only he could get his thoughts into something resembling order and concentrate on what he needed to say to Draco instead of what he wanted to do with him! Maybe he shouldn't have told Hermione so much this morning. No matter how he looked at her comments, they'd sounded encouraging to him and now they kept replaying over and over in his head.

I had a feeling this might happen... suspicions about his motives... indignant about your girlfriend... If you want to be together... We'll help you...

He quashed a frustrated growl and pushed his hands deeper into his pockets.

Just get it over with!

He took a deep breath.

"I need to tell you something. But not here."

The gardens were unexpectedly crowded for a workday. There always seemed to be people in earshot, which was the main reason why he found it difficult to talk to Draco - that and the fact that he preferred watching Draco over recalling the last minutes of his conversation with Hermione. A prickling sensation slithered across his body every time Draco gently rubbed a leaf or touched a flower with his long, slender fingers...

He narrowly avoided another collision when Draco stopped to open a door and let them out of the greenhouse. Squeezing the bridge of his nose, he sharply called himself to order while he looked around, trying to recall what part of the gardens they were in.

"Let's get away from the masses." He gestured at a small path to their right, obscured by tufts of tall grasses. "This way."

If he remembered correctly, it led to a relatively secluded spot off the main footpaths, which - if they were lucky - would offer more privacy. He wondered why he hadn't thought of it right from the start, but then again, he'd been content to trail behind Draco and hear him talk about herbs and potions and the greenhouses at the Academy.

It was good to see Draco so relaxed, almost happy, and to notice little things about him: the way he tilted his head to look at something, the expression on his face when he caught an interesting scent, how the sun reflected off his hair, the way his lips moved when he read a name plate, how carefully, almost reverently, he touched the plants...

"So what did you want to tell me?"

Harry startled a little as Draco's question reached into his reverie.

The path was too narrow for them to walk side by side, and Draco's voice sounded odd coming from behind him. Almost disembodied...

The outline of a ruined steeple against the smoke-filled sky... the stench of charred flesh heavy in his nostrils, screams piercing his ears...a shadow rising... "You're on your own, Potter. No ghosts to help you this time."

It's nothing, he told himself resolutely and swallowed, nothing but a memory.

There was only the slight problem that this memory shouldn't be there! Inhaling deeply, he covered his face with both hands, pressing his fingertips hard into the skin to push back the presence he felt hovering in his mind, just beyond the reach of his consciousness, threatening to drag him under-

A painful kick against his left heel, accompanied by a loud, "Oy!" and followed by, "Watch it, Potter!" alerted him to the fact that this time he had stopped unexpectedly. Fortunately, it also jolted him back into reality.

To hell with it. What difference did it make when or where he said what he needed to say? He turned to face Draco.

"I have to go to London," he blurted out, "Hermione is going to owl me a Portkey as soon as she can. Tomorrow, most likely."

"What? London? Why?"

Under different circumstances, he would have found it amusing to watch Draco gape and fumble for words. As things were, he was busy trying to ignore how close they were standing and what it was doing to him.

"She thinks there could be something wrong with my memory block. She wants me to get it checked," he said tersely before he turned back around and slowly resumed walking, wondering if he should tell Draco about his latest... recollection. Decided not to.

Maybe it was just my imagination.

"Something wrong with your memory block? Why? What did she say?"

Draco's voice was coming from his left now. The path was still too narrow. Harry could hear the rustle of Draco's jeans as he walked, feel his body warmth... He'd always been so much warmer than Harry... Close, so close...

Not close enough.

Harry returned his hands to his pockets.

"Nothing specific, really..."

She had launched into a lecture on Memory Charms and their general long-term effects, but he had realised fairly quickly that she was worried about something. It hadn't taken him long to get it out of her, and although he still wasn't too clear on the details, the fact that she'd been borderline distraught had been reason enough for him to be amenable to her suggestion.

"She thinks that this... 'flashback' yesterday means the memory block could be damaged. I guess it's... I don't know... leaking or something." Now that he'd started talking he wondered why he hadn't done it sooner. It felt good to get this off his chest. "She wants me to see an old professor of hers. Apparently he's the Memory Charms expert in England."

Draco made a sceptical noise. "Sounds fishy, if you ask me. Memory blocks don't leak and they certainly don't get damaged, not unless someone tries to break them."

"I asked her about that, but she said she doesn't know enough about Memory Charms." Harry shot a quick sideways glance at Draco, who was looking at the ground, his hair falling forward, concealing his features.

"Did she mention anything to you when you talked to her yesterday night?" His stomach squirmed at a memory of Draco's hair soft against his face... his hand clutching Harry's to his heart...

"No. She said something about the spell affecting a larger area and something about it suppressing emotions. But she didn't mention any problems with the memory block itself."

"She probably didn't want to alarm you. She said you sounded a little... panicked when you rang her."

Draco gave him one of those looks but only made a noncommittal noise.

"So where are you going to meet this professor?"

"Grimmauld Place."

"That gloomy shack you talked about the other night? Why there?"

"We can't meet at Hermione's because Ginny's staying with her at the moment. And I don't want to show my nose anywhere near Wizarding London. Not yet, anyway. Grimmauld Place is unplottable and far away from Diagon Alley, so it's the logical choice."

Harry glanced at Draco again, not sure what to say next. He was very ambivalent about this whole London business. He had looked forward to exploring Berlin with Draco. There were so many things to see and to do... Like curl up on the couch together and watch videos...

"I'm... sorry," he said quietly, noting that he felt distinctly unhappy right now. Unhappy and cheated - out of interesting times.

"Whatever for?" Draco sounded... Harry wasn't sure exactly how he sounded except that it wasn't upset. Strangely enough, that didn't make him feel better.

"Because I wanted to do stuff with you." He shrugged and almost left it at that, then quickly added, "Remember that classic concert the girls were talking about Saturday? The open air at the Forest Theatre? That sounded interesting."

"And? Why can't we go? It's on Thursday, isn't it?" That sounded puzzled. "It cannot take long to check a memory block. Granger's probably got her knickers in a twist about nothing, anyway. We'll just go see the old geezer and Portkey right back."

"We"? There went Harry's heart again, doing its slowing-down-et cetera routine.

"You want to come with me?"

"Why not?" Now Draco sounded amused. "The war is over. You can take me to your charming ex-headquarter without having to kill me. Unless you'd rather keep the place to yourself, that is."

"No, of course not," Harry said hastily, "that's not what I meant."

"What did you mean, then?"

"I thought that maybe you'd rather... go home."

"With 'home' you mean Wiltshire, I suppose," Draco replied tensely after a brief pause, and the edge in his voice made Harry think of him holed up at the Manor with Narcissa Malfoy again. "Why would I want to do that?"

"I don't know. Check on things?"

"I told you I'm not needed there right now."

Which reminded Harry of another question that had popped into his mind during his morning run.

"What do you do at home all day, if you don't mind my asking? It's just you and your mother, isn't it?"

"Most of the time, yes. Our solicitor drops in from time to time, or a business partner. - And if you as much as think you're sorry, I'll dump you in that lake over there."

"Why..." Harry blinked, then laughed. "Okay, you got me. Guess I might as well go ahead and jump in. Although I was more thinking of..."

"Don't!"

He had to turn around to look at Draco, because Draco had stopped and was now standing in the middle of the path, glaring at him - sort of.

"What?"

"Don't say that either!"

"Say what?"

"That you were worried."

Now he definitely felt caught out! He ran a hand through his hair, slightly embarrassed, yet unable to keep the grin off his face, and he could see that Draco's lips were quirking as well, although Draco was much better at controlling his facial features than he was.

"So much for trying to be subtle."

Draco rolled his eyes, and the look on his face reminded Harry so much of the seventeen-year-old Draco that he felt sorely tempted to grab him by the shirt, pull him close, kiss him wildly... Imagining Draco's expression if he actually did something as bold as that made it impossible to stop grinning.

"You? You are about as subtle as a broomstick," Draco declared, trying to look superior, but Harry could tell that he was about to lose the battle against his facial muscles, which were tugging mightily at the corners of his mouth.

Still smirking, Harry turned around again.

oOoOoOoOoOo

Draco watched Harry disappear around the bend and gave himself a moment to get his face under control.

Stop grinning like an imbecile! he told himself sternly. Something's not right here. Get a grip and use your brain!

Unfortunately, he wasn't operating at full intellectual capacity at the moment. Every time Harry had bumped into him, it had taken more willpower to keep from turning around and grabbing him. Add the fact that he'd been putting up with recurring and persistent erections for the last twenty-four hours - without the prospect of relief at that! -, and he also ought to be cranky. Instead, he felt pleasantly dazed and almost as if he were floating - not usually a symptom of sexual frustration.

And here he was with his mind in his pants again!

He shook his head and rubbed his face.

Think!

London. What was up with that trip to London? He found it hard to believe that Granger really knew so little. Protective as she may be of Harry, she wouldn't have ordered him to London the next day unless she was worried. Which meant the situation must be worse than she'd led Harry to believe. Chances were that she'd made light of the matter in order not to upset Harry.

If only he had an idea what the problem could be!

"Draco?"

The sound of Harry's voice from somewhere ahead made him realise that he was still standing in the middle of the path. He instructed his feet to start moving again.

Damn! What had Granger said about memory blocks? She'd asked what they'd done and talked about all day... Wait! Hadn't she said something about stress possibly triggering a flashback? But that didn't make sense. Harry must have been in other stressful situations and conversations over the past few years, and apparently nothing like this had ever happened. So it had to be something else... Deep in thought, Draco wandered around the corner.

It took him several seconds to notice that Harry had led them to a lovely spot: They were standing in a gazebo overlooking the lake that Draco had glimpsed through the trees earlier. A light breeze rippled the water, dragonflies were darting back and forth among the reeds, a group of turtles was resting on a log, basking in the sun. It was such a peaceful, pleasant scene that it seemed to quiet the constant roar of the city around them simply by its existence.

Harry had stepped up to the balustrade of the gazebo to lean against one of the wrought-iron pillars that supported the roof of the little building, and for some reason the question why he had left last night sidled up to Draco's mind again.

He hoped that the simplest answer was the correct one: that Harry had been too embarrassed to stay. If memory served him correctly - and he was pretty sure it did -, Harry had not only helped him to bed, he also hadn't made much of an effort to get out of it. At least not until very late at night or very early in the morning.

However, there was, of course, the possibility that Harry had thought he was hugging his girl-... bed-... roommate. Draco gritted his teeth and refused to dwell on such an unpleasant thought. It was unbecoming for a twenty-four year old wizard to be jealous of a Muggle. For whatever reason. He had to hand it to the woman, though: she must be a strong person to let him stay at her flat with Harry, whom she obviously cared for a great deal, knowing about his and Harry's intimate relationship in the past.

What had she said? "I hate to get in the middle of things"? Draco remembered how odd he'd felt under her scrutiny. He shuddered inwardly, then pushed the thought aside. Maybe she knew more than he did, and maybe she didn't. It wasn't important, because she wasn't here with Harry - he was.

"It's a surprise."

Draco smiled. He was sure Harry had taken him here because he thought the gardens would be interesting for Draco - and they were. They could not compete with Prague, of course. Heck, even Hogwarts had more impressive greenhouses. And the whole Botanical Garden would fit easily into a corner of the Malfoy estate. But it was quite an accomplishment for Muggles to accumulate such a variety of plants and keep them alive without the help of magic. It was obvious that loving and knowledgeable hands were at work here. He had told Harry so and Harry's face had lit up with pleasure and his smile had caused Draco's insides to do several double flips...

London! he reminded himself and bent his musings back to where they'd been before he'd stepped behind Harry and become distracted. He sat down on one of the benches that lined the balustrade and glanced at Harry, who still stood there, hands shoved into his pockets, apparently lost in thought. Great! Here they were. Together. In the middle of a cheerful day. In a lovely spot. Brooding. Just great! Draco wished he had a clue what was going on in Harry's head. Although, what he should really concentrate on was his own head.

What had he been thinking of? - Right: memory blocks and stress. - What could have brought on this flashback and, not to forget, Harry's strange unconsciousness or whatever it had been? He stared at the water, glittering in the sun. Tiny waves were lapping at the narrow strip of sand that surrounded the lake. From time to time, movements beneath the surface caused circles to ripple across the water. A distant part of his mind noted that he was getting a little drowsy while another part seemed agitated by something. Odd. He blinked slowly. Sleepiness was creeping closer... sleepiness... sleep... sleeping... Sleep?

The voice in the back of his mind was clamouring for attention now, and suddenly he sat bolt upright. Of course! He should have thought of it right away - yesterday night, as a matter of fact: Why had Harry taken that soporific?

"Why couldn't you sleep yesterday?" he blurted out.

"Huh?"

Harry turned his head and looked at him with an expression that clearly said his thoughts had been far away.

"You made yourself a cup of tea last night, remember?"

"Of course. What about it?"

"Did you know it was a sleep aid?"

"Yes. Why?"

"Why couldn't you sleep?"

To his bewilderment, Harry quickly averted his eyes, an embarrassed look flitting across his face. He turned around and sat down sideways on a bench opposite Draco, facing away from him, flexing and stretching the fingers of his folded hands. He remained silent for so long that Draco was seriously wondering what in Merlin's name was going on in the man's head. He was just about to give in to his impatience and ask when Harry cleared his throat.

"I was thinking about what I'd do if I were to move back to England." - Well, that was certainly unexpected. He couldn't see what was so embarrassing about it, though. - "So I thought... Well, it was more an idea, really..."

Harry raised his hand to run it through his hair and Draco caught himself wishing he could snatch it to prevent the nervous gesture - or to pull it to his face and press his cheek into it. He blinked. What was his world coming to? Next thing, he'd be wanting to sit in Harry's lap! He wondered how Harry would react if he actually did something so daring and pressed his lips together to stifle the snicker that was welling up inside him at the thought.

"Actually, it was something I thought of for a long time after your father's trial."

Draco's stomach lurched a little at the unexpected mention of Lucius, but it wasn't as bad as earlier this morning. He raised an eyebrow at Harry, waiting for him to continue.

"I had... expected to see you at the Ministry," Harry said quietly. "Did they not call you as a witness?" He had turned his head and was looking at Draco, one foot on the bench, left elbow propped up on his knee, his chin in his palm - all relaxed inquisitiveness.

Draco shook his head. "I was already in Prague when the open conflict started," he replied, surprised that he actually felt quite calm, "and before that, I was bonded to you, so the Wizengamot assumed that nobody on Father's side would have told me anything anyway - or so our solicitor said. He advised me to stay out of the country. He thought it would be better if I didn't draw attention to myself."

Too bad that that didn't keep the paper from dragging me - us - through the mud, he thought grimly. Thanks to Pansy and her resourceful owl, he'd got his hands on the occasional Prophet while in Prague and was quite familiar with some of the tripe that rag had spread about him and Harry. Not that he necessarily wanted Harry to know this... But they'd been talking about something else, anyway.

"So what was the brilliant idea that kept you awake last night? A plot to keep Father in Azkaban by putting him in charge of it?"

Not a bad idea, come to think of it!

For a split second, Harry gave him a very gratifying incredulous stare, which quickly morphed into a mischievous expression. "He'd probably come up with all kinds of innovative methods to keep the prisoners, erm, occupied."

"Occupied? I dare say they'd be gainfully employed - gainfully for Father, of course."

They both sniggered, and all of a sudden Draco felt as if something in his heart had shifted. He had no idea what it was, but the change left him feeling peaceful. And when he thought about it, much later, he realised that this was the moment an old wound old finally closed and began to heal.

"Anyway," Harry continued, "I had an idea that there should be a place for Muggle-born children where they can learn about the Wizarding world before they go to Hogwarts. You tried to explain it to me, back in school, but I always thought you were... I don't know... exaggerating, I guess. Or that it was just some argument Voldemort used to manipulate people. But I heard it in so many trials - it seems that many of the pure-blood families are still afraid of Muggle-borns. I still don't understand why, but maybe a prep-school would show the... conservatives that our side makes an effort to bridge the gap."

Draco was listening with a growing feeling of unreality, all but gawking at Harry.

"I beg your pardon, but did you basically just say that... Father's side had a point?" he finally interrupted, unable to keep the incredulity out of his voice.

Harry chuckled. "I guess I did. In a way. Just like you basically said yesterday that our side had a point, remember?" He turned serious again and looked at Draco. "So where does that leave us?"

Draco couldn't decide whether there was more emphasis on the word "leave" or "us".

He shrugged.

"Somewhere in the middle, I suppose."

"Exactly. Gryffindor and Slytherin working together, remember?"

"Of course I remember. How could I ever forget Zabini and Weasley becoming study buddies? Or Granger and Pansy conspiring to get us to dance at that ball." Draco made a face. "Very disturbing. Traumatised me for life."

Harry grinned. "No it didn't. You were just too stubborn to admit that I was right when I said it was possible."

"Maybe I was." Draco sighed. "Different priorities, remember? Inter-house cooperation wasn't on my list. I was too busy trying to figure out what was in my family's best interest instead of concentrating on what was best for me." Or us, he thought. He stood up to put his hands on the balustrade and look out across the lake.

"And busy staying on top of your studies. And preparing for N.E.W.T.s. And dealing with your housemates. And constantly watching your back - and mine. And I'm probably forgetting any number of things here," Harry commented dryly. "You had a lot to deal with. Don't beat yourself up over the past."

The past...

Draco let out a deep breath. At Harry's last remark, something that had been lurking at the back of his mind since Friday night suddenly jumped forward.

"For what it's worth, Harry," he heard himself say, "I'm sorry you had to... go without me. I wasn't... I couldn't make up my mind to... stand up to Father, I guess." You were the only friend I had who never asked for anything in return. Or reminded me that I owed him. And I let you down. "I should have been a... better friend." Less of a coward.

For a while there were only the little noises of the lake, the rustling of the rushes, frogs croaking, birds chirping, a fish jumping after an insect.

"Hindsight is always easier than foresight," Harry finally said. "We had no choice. Neither one of us. Or if we had, we didn't see it. The question is, what would you do in that sort of situation now."

His voice was very soft. And although Draco felt quite distracted by the fact that it was also very close behind him, he couldn't help noticing the irony in all this; because if it were up to him, he'd be in "that sort of situation" soon enough. Of course there was no knowing what would happen when he turned around, but he knew what he wanted to happen. Pick up the pieces and go home, he thought, then wondered for a split second where that line had come from. Although it really didn't matter, because if this was life giving him a second chance, he would have to make up his mind. And this time there could be - would be - no turning back.

If I could change the past, I would...

Was he ready to choose? Today? Right this minute? Jump off the cliff or walk along the coastline, so to speak? If one didn't know what awaited at the foot of the cliff, did the route matter? Neither was easy. One of them, however, would be fast.

I wish I could be far away by then...

He straightened up and leaned against the pillar. Merlin, it was hot all of a sudden! He could feel sweat trickling down his scalp. Slipping both hands into his hair, he lifted it off his shoulders to let the slight breeze reach his neck.

"Getting warm?"

Oh yes, definitely! - No wonder, considering the kind of images that were currently floating around in his head and what they were doing to him!

He nodded.

"Why didn't you tie it back?"

"I didn't expect it to get so hot."

No kidding!

"I think I have a rubber band somewhere..."

Draco glanced over his shoulder to see Harry fish around in his wallet, then hold up a thin ribbon.

"Do you always bring hairstyling implements when you go places?"

Harry laughed and Draco had to look away again.

"Most of the time. Comes from living with a chaotic musician, I s'pose."

"Nobody can possibly be as chaotic as you," Draco said mechanically, too preoccupied to put even a playful bite into it.

"I'm not chaotic. I'm just messy. Or used to be."

Harry's voice was even closer now, and Draco crossed his arms, trying to maintain a nonchalant posture despite the mad beating of his heart.

"I didn't bring a brush, though."

Close, so close... Draco squeezed his eyes shut and swallowed hard. It was a miracle that he was still standing - thanks only to the pillar, no doubt.

"D'you... Here, let me..."

Harry lightly touched Draco's hair, and speaking became impossible. All Draco could do was nod and try to brace himself, but even knowing what Harry was about to do couldn't prepare him for the emotions that slammed into him when he felt Harry's hands slowly comb through his hair: heat and desire and need and... resentment towards chaotic musicians and anybody else Harry might have done this to in the past, which was absolutely ridiculous, of course, because Draco had probably done more things to a greater number of people than Harry had, but still...

He closed his eyes as he felt Harry's fingers slide along the side of his neck, one ever so lightly touching that particular spot behind his ear. It might have rested there for the briefest moment before rejoining the others, and Draco's heart was doing its best to jump out of his ears. This was agonising and infuriating and felt absolutely wonderful, and part of him loved the suspense while another part wanted to bark at Harry to quit teasing him already and put his mouth where his fingertips had just been.

Maybe he could help things along... lean back into the touch... just a little...

"Better?"

Harry was done gathering his hair and tied it at the nape of his neck.

Damn!

Draco forced his voice to cooperate. "Yes. Thank you." And thank God he'd had the common sense to buy loose fitting jeans! He wondered briefly how Harry could stand wearing such arse-hugging trousers. Not that there was anything wrong with his arse...

"I like your hair long," Harry said quietly and Draco felt a shiver wander down his spine, "it suits you."

"I was thinking of cutting it again. People keep telling me I look like Father," Draco replied a little unsteadily.

"Hmm... My ex-father-in-law..." Harry chuckled. "Good-looking man. Too bad his character is somewhat, erm-"

"Ugly," Draco completed the sentence wryly. "You can say it, it's the truth."

"Actually, I was more thinking along the lines of 'misguided'. And you're not your father, Draco."

Harry hadn't moved, was still standing right behind him, and suddenly Draco was tired of waiting and hesitating and dancing around each other. He hadn't time for this. They'd go to London tomorrow and God only knew what would happen then.

Stepping off the cliff it was!

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