And So Life Goes On...

Part of "The Aevum Series"

Chapter Eleven
Ceasefire

"We're sorry, Harry," Hermione whispers, reaching out to him again like she had done before in the past when he refused to take it. He wants to go into her arms, but it's hard knowing what she has done. It's even harder looking Ron in the eyes, Harry reflects, when Ron, unlike Hermione, went along with the whole thing without even trying to help him. "I tried my best but... we were all under an oath. And we did think it best for you to forget all the horrible atrocities in your life. We just--just wanted you to be happy again."

So they had fabricated a lie, a new life.

"Harry," Ron begins, looking awkward with his pale face and too red hair, "I'm not sorry for what we did because I definitely think your life has been too hard, and I wanted just once for you to have a normal life. I'm sure you don't remember all the times that we've been through, but we have been best friends for the longest time--we go back so far that you're like my brother--and..."

Ron clears his throat and tries again. "And you always used to tell me that you wanted a normal life after Sirius died. How you wished you'd never been in the magical world, then Sirius would have been safe and he wouldn't have died because of you. I... tried to tell you that it wasn't your fault, but it never worked. Remus though helped you a lot through that, but when he too was gone--you sunk even deeper into your depression and I couldn't reach you. No one could.

"Merlin Harry," Ron says, running his hand violently through his hair, "do you know how much it hurt me to see you in such pain and I could do nothing?"

"And he wasn't the only one," Hermione adds in soft voice. "We both stayed up long nights while you locked yourself up in the Room of Requirement, and we were so scared that you'd do something to yourself. You don't understand how useless, what terrible friends we felt like. I--" her voice cracks as she sobs. "I..., I didn't know what to do."

"Neither of us did," Ron murmurs, his voice more in control though his eyes are just as watery as hers. "And after Remus died, you shut us out though we always tried to let you know that we were there for you."

"You were there in body, but you had withdrawn from us," Hermione croaks. "But you had someone that you could turn to. A lover, we always thought, because after two years, you started almost smiling. You almost looked happy, but there was always an uncertainty in your eyes though it slowly vanished the more years that passed. Whoever it was that saved you, we're thankful."

"Yes," Ron agrees. "Very thankful."

Harry doesn't know what to do or to say. Their words, so honest and so earnest, he wants to believe. He wants to open his arms and embraces them both, but still he can't find it in his heart to forgive them entirely. Hermione, he almost can. Ron though... he doesn't know what to do. Ron has been his best friend since forever, and yet Ron should have known even better than Hermione that he is strong and could have faced the reality.

What he wishes for doesn't mean he really wants it. It's only a mere wish, a fantasy, a dream--not a reality. Somehow they made it into one. But whose idea was it? Dumbledore's? Ron's? Or maybe Hermione's? Who's the one that was responsible? That's what he wants to know.

"Who?" Harry asks, trembling and shaking. "Who decided?"

"I did."

Harry snaps around and drops his jaw and cries, "Not you! Not you, not you, please not you..."

"Harry, wake up!" Draco exclaims, both hands on Harry's shoulders, holding him down against a bed, his bed. But how did he get to his bed? His last memory was of white, white tiles and blurring walls. "It's a dream, a nightmare, whatever. Snap out of it!"

Harry wants to say it wasn't a nightmare, though it wasn't a dream either. Not pleasant enough, but he cannot find his voice. His throat is too dry, parched like he had been in a desert too long without water. He opens his mouth and shuts it.

"Severus!" Draco shouts. "Get in here! Harry's woken up and needs the potion!"

What potion? Harry doesn't want a potion. He doesn't, he doesn't, he doesn't.

"He's hyperventilating, Severus!" Draco yells, still holding him down--not letting him be. "Get your bloody arse in here!"

Harry wants to shake his head, but he can't move. He feels too exhausted and yet his body is trembling, shaking, moving out of control and overpowering his fatigue. His eyes finally focus on Draco's concerned face, his pale skin and his anxious eyes. He tries to say no but nothing comes out. No potion, he wants to say, no no no...

The door flies open and Severus storms in, a vial in hand. He pushes Draco away, but not violently. It's one of urgency instead. They must have stopped fighting, Harry muses, glad but also confused. Hadn't they been bickering when he had passed out? However long that was...

"Open your mouth, Harry," Severus says gently, uncorking the vial.

Harry doesn't. He wants to push the vial away that is pressed against his chapped lips, but he cannot move anything voluntarily. Instead Severus opens his mouth for him and pours the bitter liquid down his throat. Harry gurgles, trying to spit it out, but Severus massages his throat with his fingers and he swallows.

No, no, no... Harry thinks and then stops when the darkness takes him.

Harsh, cold fingers rub his throat, then latch on, squeezing him--suffocating him. Harry's eyes roll open and he sees Severus, his lover. He wants to open his mouth to say something, but his jaw is slack and he can't. He can't even really move his body, only a fraction of an inch. It's like he's been drugged, but why?

"Harry," Severus whispers, "you're awake."

Yes, obviously, Harry thinks. He must be if his eyes are open, staring a hole into Severus' being. If he could but whimper, maybe he could let Severus know through pathetic noises that he isn't feeling well. But he can't even do that. He is unable to do anything.

"Open your mouth," Severus commands not unkindly. "You need to take your medicine."

Is that what Severus was doing? Stroking his throat as if he were trying to suffocate him? Trying to get some of the potion down his throat? But why? Is it to heal him or is it to harm him? Harry doesn't know. Is this like the pills he's been taking, something he thinks that'll make him better, but will only make things worse? Is Severus trying to steal his memories away from him again? Isn't once enough?

"If you can't, I'll do it for you."

Harry wants to shake his head, wants to say no, but Severus forces his mouth open--though it's not like he can really resist--and pours a liquid that looks the same color as the pills he's always taken. The taste isn't the same, but why would it be? The gel coating would cover and disguise the taste, and a nagging part of his mind says: it looks the same.

"Now that's a good boy," Severus murmurs, stroking his throat and getting him to swallow. Harry blinks once from the pure shock of having Severus calling him 'good boy.' That isn't like Severus, Harry thinks before he drifts off.

"Don't, don't, don't," Harry mumbles underneath his breath, while twisting and turning under the covers. "Don't do that. I thought you were good. I thought I could trust you. Why? Oh why? Oh Merlin, why?"

Draco is shaking him, trying to wake him. He feels jostled and lurches, almost falling out of bed if not for Draco. "Harry," Draco murmurs, touching him gently with his hands, "are you all right?"

"Yes," Harry manages to rasp. "Better."

"That's good," Draco whispers, his hands drifting lightly over Harry's nightshirt. "That's very good." His fingers ghost over Harry's throat not as provocative as it is curious. "I can't wait until you get better." Draco leans over and whispers, "We'll have so much fun, you and I."

Harry's eyes widen when he understands the implication. "What?"

Draco cups Harry's face and caresses it gently. "If you used to be Snape's lover, I'm sure you're a good fuck. But as interested as I am in fucking your arse," Draco murmurs, his fingers tracing Harry's lips, "I'm much keener on what your name will do for me. Severus wasn't wrong, you know, I do want you to reestablish me in the Wizarding World."

"Use," Harry croaks. "Me."

"Yes," Draco says, "yes, you've got it my dumb little Gryffindor. You got it in one. I am using you, though I'll have a lot of fun doing it. Too bad you can't go back to Snape now, having cut all ties with him when he really did feel something for you." Draco's fingers leave Harry's face feeling colder than it did before. "I'm not sure he loves you, but he does feel strongly about you. It could be love," he muses. "After all, what do muggles say? 'There's a thin line between hate and love.' Maybe it really is a thin line, a now nonexistent line, but you, my Harry, chose me." Draco bends his head down and kisses Harry. "Aren't you so happy?"

Harry shoves with all his might, trying to get away from Draco and it works with a surge. He feels someone being pushed away and he hopes it's Draco. He doesn't want that little bastard near him. How could he use him like that when he has begun to trust Draco? But then that only makes sense, Harry thinks with a low moan. It all makes sense because Draco is a Malfoy and that's the way Malfoys are.

"Harry," he hears Draco's low, hoarse voice as if he's in pain, "you're having a nightmare. It's okay."

Harry opens his eyes to the blinding though dim lights. Everything's a blur in front of him that he doesn't even see where Draco is. Probably on the ground somewhere, but how had he had enough power to push the blond away? He still feels weak and helpless--and drugged. Harry bites his lip hard. What the fuck had Severus given him? Was all that his ex-lover had said a lie?

"Where's Severus?" Harry demands in a rasp. "Where is he?"

"I'm here," Severus croaks from a distance that sounds similar from Draco's but in another direction. "My presence has been," he says then pauses and lets out a haggard breath before he starts again, "disturbing you so I've kept away."

"What did you give me?" Harry's not screaming, but he feels like he is almost there. He's so afraid, so mistrusting, so unaware of whom he can trust. Were those visions reality or nightmares? Draco said nightmares, but they had felt so real. "Are you trying to poison my mind again?"

He doesn't hear Severus approach, only the sound of the older man dropping to his knees next to his bedside. When he turns to Severus' direction he can make out an outline of a sallow blob with black circles for eyes and a nose protruding in a blur.

"No," Severus says softly and reaches over for something on the side table, "I'm not." Severus places his glasses into his hands. "Neither is Draco."

Harry puts his frames on and blinks until everything shifts into focus. When had they reached a truce? This is all very strange, very weird when only moments before Harry had heard them shouting at each other, exchanging insults as if there was no tomorrow. It was as if he was... in another time all together.

"We want you to get better," Draco adds.

Harry stares at them in disbelief, not quite comprehending how so much could change in a few hours... or maybe a day, but they were acting like they were almost friends. In his dreams, his nightmares, they had been enemies to one another and himself. So why are they so friendly now? He cringes back, trying to shrink into his bed. Are they collaborating against him? Trying to throw him off the mark by acting as allies rather than enemies? Is he supposed to be glad that they've resolved their difficulties and forget that they seemed to hate each other?

Oh god, oh Merlin, he thinks, I can't deal with this but I must.

"Harry?" Draco murmurs. "You do believe us, don't you?"

Instead of glancing at Draco, Harry looks directly at Severus. He has to know, and Severus better answer. "What did you give me?"

"A potion."

Severus' response infuriates Harry. It wasn't like Severus to deliberately misunderstand his question. Harry knows, staring into those dark eyes, that Severus understood but doesn't want to say anything. The idea, the twinge of doubt that has been building since he was forced to swallow that potion escalates and surges. How dare he!

"What potion?" Harry says with a sharpness that reminds him of Severus. "Just a potion? Are you sure you're not trying to manipulate my mind into forgetting everything again? How do I know it wasn't you? I only have your word! Your say! Not theirs! Maybe it's you that wanted me to forget. You because you don't want me anymore and this is your way out. Sneaky, clever, sly Slytherin," Harry rasps, "aren't you, Severus, my love?"

"Harry, for Merlin's sake," Draco snaps, "it was a stabilizing potion because your magical aura was going crazy. It was to help you, you bloody git. As much as I hate to say it, Severus did a good thing by giving you that potion. And it's not like I'd let him do anything to harm you! If there's anyone you can trust, Harry, it's me."

But Harry isn't looking at Draco. He stares at Severus, at his lover, daring him to deny or confirm what Draco had said. Why Draco is helping Severus, Harry doesn't know, but that doesn't matter because regardless of Draco's words--if he can even trust him--it's Severus that needs to speak.

"Say something," Harry says with an edge. "Now!"

Dark, familiar eyes bear down on him, sucking him in like a relentless vortex. "I could want you as you are now."

Harry hears Draco's gasp, but he doesn't turn. He keeps his gaze locked onto Severus'. Their eyes, black against green, are dueling. Harry wonders if it used to be this way or if this is something new instead.

"I thought you said you didn't want him!" Draco exclaims furiously. "I thought you said this wasn't the Harry that you feel anything for! I thought... I thought he would be mine."

Neither Harry nor Severus answer. Instead Severus says, "Your memories will return, Harry, because your magic is coming back." The older man pauses and steps forward out of the shadows. "Soon you'll be yourself again."

"But he won't!" Draco shouts, and Harry finally looks away from Severus. "He won't be the same because he's not that Harry anymore. Are you, Harry?" Draco says earnestly, his silver eyes filled with an emotion that is heated and not chilled. "You're different and you don't hate me anymore, and unlike him," he spits, "I could love you."

That almost sounds normal, like the Draco Harry knows now. Actually he has the feeling it is rather like the Draco he knew before too, though this one doesn't hate him anymore. And well, Harry glances back to Severus, this man--his former lover--what to do about him? Actually, Harry's eyes shift briefly to Draco and then anywhere but at the two of them, what to make of both of them?

He can still feel his anger simmering underneath the surface, eager to leap up, grab a hold of him and unleash its fury on anything, anyone in its path. Harry is sick and tired of hearing them bicker over him. He doesn't need that, what he needs are his memories and magic. This frustration that he feels building inside him makes him want to latch onto his rage, wrap it around him, and let it comfort him. Let it scream at Draco and Severus, especially at Severus. Harry can't really blame Draco; Draco didn't know. But Severus he can blame and even if Severus has done a good thing--many good things--it was not enough.

"Harry?" Draco says, moving toward him and reaching out with his hand.

Before Draco could touch him, Harry slaps his hand away because he doesn't want to be touched by him after that nightmare. And Harry suddenly feels what Severus said: that his magic is coming back. He feels that if he wants to, he can use his innate power to push his magic out and force Draco away. Something tells him this isn't normal or common. But then, when has he ever been normal?

"What's wrong?" Draco asks. "Harry?"

"SHUT UP!" Harry screams, letting his fury take over, letting it rush out though he kept the power he felt at his fingers harnessed. "Don't talk! Don't speak! Don't say anything at all. Do you understand me? I need--"

"Draco has never been one to keep his mouth shut," Severus muses aloud with a wry tone. "He thinks that everything that comes out of his mouth is what he wants it to be. He doesn't ever think, he just--"

"YOU TOO!" Harry roars, almost letting his magic out--almost losing it enough to slam Severus against the wall but he suppresses it. He could kill both of them if he wanted, he thinks, even without his wand... He snaps his head toward Severus and demands, "Where's my wand?"

Severus' eyes study him impassively for a moment before he says, "Your irrational anger reminds me of your immature 5th year self, and I do not speak to children of matters of importance."

"Me, a child?" Harry cries, laughing hard in a crazy, wild way. "Me? No," he says, shaking his head and lifting his hands to point at both Draco and Severus, "not me. It's you two that have been acting like children." It's when he says it aloud that he realizes that he's been thinking this deep inside, so far into the abyss that he can't even recall having thought it. But he does feel it now, feels it even stronger when he considers the way they bickered and argued in front of him such a short time ago.

"Immature, self-consumed children who only considered what you wanted instead of me!" Harry shouts, his face hot and his heart pounding. "Did you ever consider my feelings when you were talking about me as if I were a piece of meat to be owned and bartered with words between you two? I don't know why I sat there, crouched there and listened to it. Why I even wanted to help you!" Harry screams, jabbing his finger in Severus' direction. "When you never helped me!"

Severus goes pale. His sallow skin washes out, turning it into an even more sickly color. It's such an odd look for him that Harry can almost believe again that maybe Severus did want to help him, but if he did, wouldn't he have done more? There had to be a way around the spell, hell even Draco was a way around the spell since he wasn't under the oath! Had Severus or Hermione ever thought of that?

"Why didn't you do more?" Harry demands, pointing an accusing finger at Severus. "Why?"

"The oath."

"You said it was to protect me and my happiness!" Harry cries. "But did you ever think of how miserable I was, not knowing who I was? I used to cry at night in my bed all alone, wondering who the fuck I was because I couldn't remember a bloody shitty thing about my life. Even these bad memories, of you, of my life, of everything are nothing compared to not knowing." Harry glances toward Draco. "You could have found a way to tell me."

"But I couldn't!" Severus snarls. "I was specifically under oath not to mention anything to you or anyone else." Severus looks meaningfully to Harry. "And despite my every doubt you'd be unhappy not knowing who you were, from everything that I could see--when I saw you--you did seem to be happy, Harry."

"But I wasn't." Harry almost wants to wallow in his thoughts, about how lost and depressed he felt when he had no idea who he was. It was as if no one understood what he was going through at the time. It was as if he was alone. Until Hermione gave him a purpose in his life, all he had been doing was crying in his room and then putting on a brave face whenever his friends visited. "I wasn't."

"I..." Severus begins and stops. "I'm sorry."

Harry looks at Severus, looks into those dark eyes and sees a true apology in them. He tries to see if it's just a clever manipulation, but he can't imagine Severus saying sorry for show. He knows the man too well, even if he doesn't quite remember knowing the man. The dark eyes seem to penetrate into his being, studying him as much as he is trying to study Severus.

"The wand," Draco says, interrupting the momentary silence. "Harry's wand. Where is it, Severus?"

Severus shifts his eyes to Draco and narrows them. "The matter does not concern you."

"But it concerns Harry," Draco responds nonchalantly. "And he did ask you." He turns to Harry and smiles a little. "You do want to know, don't you?"

The smile is more bewildering than it is comforting, if it was supposed to be. Harry isn't sure though. It's too small, too sly-like to be reassuring. Maybe it's meant to be something else, but what? Harry bites the inside of his mouth. If only he could sense things, know stuff about Draco like he just does for Severus.

"I do," Harry states firmly, looking from Draco to Severus. "Draco's right. Where is it?"

For a moment, Harry thinks Severus is going to evade the question again but the older man snaps instead, "Who do you think has it?"

The tone is familiar, and it washes over Harry like a tidal wave. The feelings, Harry realizes, the sensation that he knows Severus is only getting stronger. Severus is right then. His memories will return with his magic. But how long? Will it be like the flashbacks he had? And if so... were the nightmares reality then? But the Draco one doesn't make sense, as it couldn't happen yet. Draco said himself that he hadn't seen Harry in a long time. Though the other one about Severus could be. It isn't all that sinister, when Harry thinks about it. It just seems bad when...

"Harry," Severus says sharply, "do not tell me you do not know whom I speak of."

Harry snaps out of his thoughts and stares at Severus. He doesn't even need to think of an answer. Only one makes sense. "Albus."

"Yes," Severus agrees. "Albus."

"I want it back," Harry declares. "I want my life back."

"Then," Severus begins with a far from pleasant look on his face, "you must be ready to face them."

"What? Them?" Harry looks at Severus with no comprehension. What is he talking about? Why would he have to face anyone but Albus? Unless...

Severus opens his mouth to speak, but Draco beats him to it. "They know, Harry. They found out the day after you collapsed in the bathroom."

"Today then," Harry says, looking toward Draco who shakes his head. "Yesterday?"

"No," Severus says and Draco echoes. Severus glares at Draco before continuing: "You have been out for a week, Harry. They found out the Friday when you didn't show up for the usual get together."

"Oh Merlin," Harry cries, dropping his face down into his hands. A week has gone by, an entire week when he thought it had only been a day or two. How could time pass that fast? Is that why then... Harry jerks his face up and stares at the wall because it's easier. "Is that why you two are getting along better?" he asks sharply. Now it starts to make sense, how the two of them could go from hating each other to actually getting along if that much time had gone by. But still... "What happened then? What made you two be civil to each other?"

"Time helps," Draco admits, "and the fact that your friends came down on us like we were lepers contaminating you also pushed us into more friendly territory with each other. As much as I might dislike Severus, he is a far lesser evil than Granger or Weasley. You might want to consider your friends more carefully, Harry, as they're the ones that helped put you into this situation. If I were you, I'd run away with me and forget they ever existed. We could go anywhere, you know, see extraordinary places--magical places. You and I."

"And what would be the point of that?" Severus inquires piercingly. "He's already been forced to run from his true life, why would he ever want to run voluntarily from it when he has a chance to regain it? Despite what those ignorant prejudiced idiots think of the Dark Arts, there is nothing for him to be ashamed of. Nothing!"

Draco snorts and before he can say anything that will dissolve the civility between the two of them, Harry says, "He's right. I need to face them."

"If you're sure," Draco says, "I won't stop you."

"As if you could," Severus sneers, "stop him."

"You are the most--!"

"SHUT IT!" Harry yells. "Stop it! I can't think with you two arguing, and I need to. Either be quiet or get out."

"I'm staying," Severus declares.

"And so am I."

TBC