And So Life Goes On...

Chapter Thirteen
Moving On

"Harry, can I ask you a question?" Teddy asked.

Harry looked at him and grinned. "Of course you can." He placed his pawn on a white square. "What's on your mind?"

"It's about your friends."

Harry watched Teddy moved his black knight three spaces to capture his pawn. "What about them?" Harry asked carefully, not really sure what Teddy was going after. Or what he was thinking. Either way, he didn't think it was good because Teddy was frowning and not concentrating. It didn't take Teddy much thought to beat him, Harry thought with a wince. He was pretty pathetic at chess, though it could just be that Teddy was very, very good.

"I like Hermione."

Harry smiled and moved his bishop to a black space. "That's not a question."

"I know." Teddy grabbed his own bishop and moved it next to Harry's. "I don't know what I think about Ron."

"How much of the conversation did you overhear?" Harry asked bluntly, thinking it best just to get everything out in the open. He knew all too well how things went if they were kept secret. Secrecy just grew and grew until it suffocated what it was supposed to save.

"I didn't intend to hear it," Teddy whispered, staring hard at the board. "I just heard it for some reason."

Harry wondered if there was some sort of Listening Charm that could be cast with accidental magic now that he realized there were a lot of extraordinary things about Teddy that could be attributed to magic. Some of the weird things that happened in the shelter when Teddy was around, they must have been magic and not flukes. The first thing that he remembered was how sometimes Teddy hissed, "Yesss..." or how things changed mysteriously after he had been there. No wonder, Harry reflected, he had instinctively gravitated to Teddy. They were much more alike than they knew.

"It's okay," Harry said because it was. He really didn't mind having Teddy listening in. He trusted Teddy as much as he trusted anyone. "What did you want to ask me?"

"Magic, it's real, isn't it?" Teddy said in a burst. "I could hear the spells and you said something about an Enlargement Charm. Then your friend, Ron, said something weird like it. And I do stuff that's weird and unexplainable, but it's not because I'm a freak--is it? It's because of magic. Magic's real. And you're just like me..."

There was desperation in Teddy's voice to belong and to be something that wasn't anything like the freak his Uncle said he was. Harry wanted to tell him that everything was okay, and that magic was okay, but he wasn't so sure himself. Was magic okay when it could be used to steal someone's memories? To alter someone's life? To make what he thought was real all one elaborate lie?

"Harry?" Teddy cried. "You are like me, aren't you?"

"Yes," Harry said. "I am."

"And magic is real?"

Harry nodded. "It's real."

"Harry?"

"Yes?"

Teddy raised his eyes away from the chess pieces. "How could you forgive them?"

-

At 6:00, Harry goes home. He rides the train back and gets off at his stop. He walks a few blocks until he reaches his flat. He pauses when he arrives at the door, wondering if he should go in. He doesn't really feel like dealing with either Severus or Draco. He doesn't know what to do about them, knowing they are expecting an answer from him. They want him to choose, but he can't.

He turns around and puts his back against the wall, sliding down to his bottom. He tucks his legs underneath his arms and leans his chin against his crossed arms. He stares at the gray floor and wonders if it might have been better if he never knew any of this at all. But then... he'd be lost. And yet--is it so good to be found?

-

Harry opened up his eyes and groaned, the light streaming through the blinds was far too bright. He grabbed his glasses off the stand next to his bed and put them on. He focused his eyes on the clock that said 7:30. It was way too early to be up. It wasn't as if he had anything to do. It was Sunday, even the shelter wasn't open. Harry sighed and then held his breath when he heard familiar voices talking softly amongst themselves just outside his room.

"I think he should go away," Draco stated firmly.

"Haven't you learned from your mistakes yet, Draco?" Severus snapped. "Running away doesn't solve problems, it exacerbates them."

"Sometimes you just need to get away from things, away from your problems."

"Perhaps, but this time it would be a mistake."

Harry heard Draco laugh harshly. "You're not referring to Harry, are you?"

It wasn't hard to imagine the intensity of Severus' eyes knowing he would be looking at Draco, seeing through him. "Don't you think you've run long enough?"

"What choice do I have?" Draco shouted more than questioned. "I couldn't stay in the Wizarding World, you know better than anyone that I couldn't." He paused, the silence unnerving. What was Draco doing? Harry wished he knew. "I don't even know how you managed to stay, spy as you are. Don't people shout and send you Howlers that deride your name and family? How can you stand it? The despicable and callous things people say? How do you deal with it when you are nothing of what they say you are?"

"You learn to ignore them as if their existence is of no consequence," Severus snapped, though it wasn't as unkindly as it could have been. Harry recognized the control in his tone, Severus' attempt to try and reach Draco. Did Severus reach for him the same way once? Perhaps. "I thought there was a strength of character in you that even your father could not destroy, but it seems I was wrong if the pitiful opinions of others could sway you to abandon the Wizarding World."

"I'm not as strong as you are!" Draco shouted. "And despite your unfavorable thoughts on my father, he wasn't a cruel man to me. He might have been to others, but he did love me in his own way. He--"

"He raised you to be weak," Severus said sharply. "And when you didn't follow through with his plan for your life, you showed a strength I didn't think you had! You were becoming someone, Draco, who you could be proud of. Though I must say, I realize now that your apparent strength was only due to your father's imprisonment in Azkaban, because at the first hint of a challenge, a difficulty, you gave up."

"I had no fucking choice!" Draco screamed. "Do you think I wanted to serve that madman? He destroyed my family! He twisted my father into something I didn't recognize after my fourth year! If my mother's sanity could have been saved in any other way, do you think I would have turned to him?"

"Why did you not trust me?" Severus asked and Harry was certain he heard an odd earnestness in his voice. "I told you to wait!"

"How was I supposed to know Harry would defeat him? The war had been going for so long and was heading to such dire straits that I couldn't even hope that it would end, much less for a hero to deliver us!"

"But he did."

"Yes," Draco agreed softly. "He did."

"You should have stayed afterwards."

"No, I couldn't," Draco said. "Everyone was looking for a scapegoat and who better than the son of Lucius Malfoy? I'm notorious, Severus, you know it. You are too. But you are Dumbledore's pet salvation project and that has saved you from the hell that I live in. If I had stayed, I would have been treated like the lowest of low, and my pride just couldn't take it."

For a moment, there were no voices. There was only the dull hum of everyday noises. There was only the roaring of his own heart beating.

"Answer me this, Draco," Severus finally said. "Do you still have your precious pride?"

-

"So there you are," Draco says and stands besides the opened doorway with his hands on his hips, looking like a disapproving mother. "I was worried about you."

The words sound strange coming out of Draco's mouth, especially when he remembers how Draco used to insult him, torment him and get him in trouble, how he always managed to get under his skin. But here Draco is, standing there with nervous energy, worried about him. Harry doesn't know what to make of him, what to do. Or what to do about Severus. It's all so confusing.

"Harry," Draco says, "are you going to sit there all night or are you coming in?"

Harry doesn't want to go in. He doesn't want to face either of them. He doesn't even want to know why Severus isn't out here, snapping at him to come in. Maybe Severus is waiting for him to come inside. Or maybe Severus doesn't care about him anymore. After all, he's not the Harry that Severus fell in love with. He knows this now. He's not that Harry.

"I'm not, I'm not, I'm not," he chants softly only to himself. "Not anymore."

"Harry?"

He doesn't answer.

-

"Watch where you're going you clumsy imbecile!" Draco sneers, his nose flaring and his eyes derisive.

Harry lifts his tired eyes to look at the familiar arrogance, though it's not quite what it used to be. Draco has changed and so has he. He's not the same boy that Draco once knew. Nor is this Draco, Harry reflects, the same. But then having a father locked in Azkaban and a mother going mad will do that to a person, he guesses. He almost feels sorry for Draco, but he knows that's not what the young man wants. There's no pity for a Malfoy. There's too much pride for that. If it were a year ago, or maybe more, Harry knows he would have retaliated by pushing Draco away, but he's too exhausted now to care. Life has no meaning for him anymore and Draco's not important enough to conjure any emotion within him.

"Potter, I should have known," Draco sneers, his steely eyes looking up and down Harry like he's art or a piece of meat. "Only you could be this inept."

Draco's words go in his ears and they go out. Harry really doesn't pay any mind to them because they're rather meaningless when he thinks about the war that's going on and the people that are fighting and dying. Like Remus, he thinks immediately with a gut wrenching pain, who is already gone. Harry wishes--Merlin, how he wants everything to be over and done with! Only a little bit more than a week to go, school will be over, and he'll never have to see Draco or anyone like him again. It's over. It doesn't matter.

Harry shrugs his shoulders and walks away without saying a word.

-

He eventually gets up and goes into his flat. He doesn't really have much of a choice. Draco won't leave him alone and the whole reason Harry was outside was to be alone. Now that it has been taken away from him, there is no reason not to go inside the comfort of his home. His home, he thinks as he steps in. Is this really his home? Did he ever have a home? Number 4 Privet Drive was certainly never his home, but is his flat a home?

Glancing around the room, noting the bland furnishings, and the distinct lack of a personality, Harry not only wonders if this is home, he wonders who he is. He had always thought that when he regained his memories he would immediately remember who he was--who he is. But it's simply not that simple. He has regained a good deal of his memories, with small and large gaps in different places in his timeline, but most of it is back... yet he doesn't have any better idea of who he is. All he knows for certain is that he isn't the same Harry anymore. But he isn't entirely different either. He still understands things about his past and his memories, because he can relate to them in a way that only the old Harry could.

Like Severus...

It's easy to forgive Severus, knowing how hard Severus is on himself and knowing that even if he doesn't love him anymore, he would still try his best for him. After all, Harry remembers how Severus saved him time and time again when Severus hated him. And Harry knows without a doubt that even if Severus doesn't love him anymore, he certainly doesn't hate him.

Harry's eyes drift around the room, wondering why Severus isn't popping out from some dark corridor--if there is such a thing in his flat--to berate him for sitting outside in the hallway when he should be inside. But Severus isn't anywhere in the main room that he can see... actually.

"He's not here," Draco declares. "He left a few hours ago to deal with Dumbledore and company."

How did Draco know he's looking for Severus? Is he that obvious? "Oh," Harry says.

"Your friends stopped by and asked if he would help them convince Dumbledore not to interfere," Draco continues and runs a hand messily through his hair. "I guess he really does care about you."

Yes, Harry thinks so too. Sitting outside, without anyone around, had given him the quiet space he needed to really think. Things had started to add up. The doubts he felt about Severus have ebbed away. He is now absolutely certain that Severus cares about him. Love is a different story, but he can't blame Severus for falling out of love with him, since he's the one who's changed, not Severus.

"Are you going to keep staring past me all night as if I don't exist?"

Harry jerks his head slightly until his eyes focus on Draco. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be sorry," Draco responds, stepping toward him and for once not looking too sure of himself. "None of this is your fault."

"I'm the one that was curious, that wanted to know."

"I tempted you."

Harry wants to deny it, but it's hard. Draco had tempted him. But it's not right to blame Draco when he's the one who asked. "I don't know what to do."

"Life is never easy," Draco remarks, slumping onto the couch at the midway point. "If it was, then--it wouldn't be the mess it is--would it?" He sighs. "For what it's worth, I'm glad I ran into you."

Harry swallows hard, his throat really dry. "You are?"

Draco nods slowly. "Yes."

"Can I ask why?"

Draco turns to him sharply. "You can't guess?"

"I want the answer from you."

"The entire story?"

"Yes."

"It's long," Draco warns.

Harry shrugs. "We have time."

-

"Why did you forgive them, Harry?" Teddy asked. "I wouldn't have."

Harry sighed and moved a rook forward a few spaces so it could capture a pawn. "I want to forgive them."

"But you said you forgave them," Teddy protested.

"I did," Harry agreed and tapped the board. "Are you going to move?"

Teddy scowled and moved his bishop without really looking at the board, capturing Harry's rook with it. "There!"

Harry frowned and studied the board before moving the knight over a few spaces to capture another pawn. "The idea of forgiveness, even saying it, is easier than actually meaning it."

"So you didn't mean it?" Teddy asked, swooping his queen down in a good position that forced Harry to move his remaining rook if he wanted to save it from certain death. "Is that what you're saying?"

"I want to mean it," Harry stated, thinking that Teddy was far more perceptive than a boy his age should be. "I want to be able to forgive them."

"But you can't," Teddy remarked, moving his queen in the opposite direction of Harry's last move and nailing his knight. "Check."

"Not yet at least."

"Are you going to move?" he taunted back at Harry.

Harry scooted his king to the only place he could, right smack next to Teddy's knight. "I wonder how many moves it'll take you to win," he mused aloud.

"Three," Teddy answered. "Well, two now," he said after he placed his rook directly in front of Harry's king. "Check."

"You're too good at this game," Harry remarked, pushing his king over a space and knocking Teddy's knight out.

"Better than your redheaded friend?"

"Maybe," Harry answered after a second's pause. "I played him when he was already 11, and you're at least as good as he was at that age, maybe even a little better. Right now though, I think he's better than you. He's got more years of experience and well... he should know more and be better."

"But," Teddy began and Harry mentally braced himself, recognizing the tone in Teddy's voice as something that could cut deeply, "shouldn't he have known better then? The redhead and the lady? Shouldn't they have realized you would want your memories and your life even if it was painful?"

"They wanted to protect me," Harry murmured, though his protest sounded weak. "They wanted me to be happy. They thought I was."

"But you're not," Teddy said. "Are you?"

Harry watched as Teddy captured his last knight, one move away from end of the game. "I'm happy here."

"Really?" Teddy's voice sounded incredulous, like he couldn't believe what Harry was saying.

"Yes," Harry stated earnestly, having no choice but to put his king in a dead square. "Of course, I am."

"I'm glad," Teddy said. He moved his queen into position that trapped Harry's king utterly. "Checkmate." Teddy looked up, his blue eyes meeting Harry's green ones. "You make me happy too."

-

"It begins when I went away. Remember that week I was gone?" Draco says.

Harry takes a seat next to Draco on the couch. He definitely remembers the week Draco had been gone. He'd wanted so badly for Draco to come back, to be there, so he could have someone to talk to that wasn't involved in the mess. But Draco was away, and he'd been stuck having to decide whether or not he could trust Severus. In the end, it hadn't been so bad--he reflects--but at the time, it had been draining.

"I do," Harry says.

"In the week I was gone, I realized I never hated you," Draco confesses, his eyes drifting over Harry's face like a caress. "I did envy you though. I wanted to be you, and I wanted to be with you. I was obsessed with you." His silver eyes pin Harry's. "And I want you now more than I ever did then."

Harry feels his heart pounding. "Draco..."

"Hush, Harry," Draco says, pressing his fingers over Harry's lips, "just listen. I know this is a lot for you to take all at once, your memories and what your friends did to you, and now this revelation about me. I don't know what you remember about me, but from the nightmare you were mumbling and whimpering about, it's not hard to guess the memories aren't good. But even then, back in school, I was infatuated with you.

"I don't even know when it started, and I don't know why I never recognized it." Draco runs his hand through his white-blond hair, in anxiety or frustration, Harry isn't sure. "I... I should have known the reason why I looked at you, watched you all the sodding time was because I was obsessed with you, not because I hated you. But I was blind, and if only I wasn't such a fool maybe you would have chosen me instead of Severus."

Harry leans back against the couch. He doesn't know what to think, how to feel, or what to say. But he guesses it does make sense--what Draco's saying--if he thinks about it. The memories he does have of Draco, he can remember Draco staring at him--not in a hating kind of way, but more in a trying to memorize everything about him way, a devouring way.

"I thought about you the entire time I was gone," Draco murmurs, lowering his hand. "It drove me crazy and it was so unprofessional. I was on a business trip, I shouldn't be thinking about anything but what I needed to get done and yet the only thing that was on my mind was you, you, you."

Harry starts shifting around in his seat, not really uncomfortable but just needing to do something. Draco's words are making him feel antsy, and he knows that the time is coming faster than he'd like--Draco wants something from him that he's not sure he can give.

"Harry," Draco begins, "do you understand?"

Does he understand? He understands what's coming. But does he understand Draco?

"Harry, at least, answer me this..."

Harry looks at Draco, at Draco's pale face and burning eyes. "Answer what?"

"Do you love Severus?"

Of all questions, Harry doesn't expect this. He doesn't know what to say. He can't even begin to think about Severus when Draco's here, and Draco's the one that matters right now. But he ought to think of Severus in context with Draco. It's impossible to separate the two of them. One invariably affects the other. Harry digs his nails into the cushion of the couch. Merlin, what can he say?

Does he love Severus?

"I don't know."

Draco's eyes depart his face, looking elsewhere. "I think you do love him still," he murmurs in a detached voice. Harry picks up a particular note in the tone that suggests Draco's been thinking about this for quite a while, but hasn't wanted to say anything. "If you didn't, you wouldn't demand if he loved you in the past or not. I think somewhere inside your heart," he says, raising his hand to his own heart, "you still feel deeply for him because the old Harry did and you and he are one and the same."

"I..."

"But even if you still do love him," Draco continues, his eyes shifting back to Harry, "do you think it's possible that you could love me? That you could love me more?" He sighs and his hand drops from his chest. "I'm tired of being alone, of running away. Because Severus is right, I've been running for too long and that I ought to stop and face my demons. But I'm not strong, and I never have been--not like you or him. I need someone to help me, to stand next to me, and I want that someone to be you."

He takes a ragged breath. "I know it's selfish, wanting you to help me. If there's anyone that needs help, it's you. But you have no idea, since you lost your memories, how it feels to be shunned from the only life you've known. Until I ran into you again, Harry, I didn't even think I could ever have my life back. But if you can regain your memories and your life after all you've been through, can I not do the same?"

Harry's eyes are wet. He instinctively reaches out to Draco, wraps his arms around him, and holds him. Harry doesn't know if he's holding Draco because Draco needs it or if it's because he needs it for himself. It doesn't matter anymore, he thinks when Draco's arms cling tightly to him. Nothing matters except this, this mutual comfort.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," Draco cries, tears soaking Harry's shirt, "for everything. Sorry for the way I treated you in the past, sorry for the slap, I'm just so sorry for putting my burden on top of your own. I'm sorry."

Harry's hand reaches up to stroke Draco's smooth, silky hair. "It's okay."

He doesn't know what to do, but Draco needs him and in a way--it's good to feel needed.