I'm revamping this story. I found a few mistakes I couldn't let myself overlook and changed its formatting rules again, so my old section breaks disappeared. Now we have the o's. I don't really like them, but I think won't take out the ability to publish a string of 'em, so in they go. I can't decide if it annoys me enough to go back and fix all my stories or not….

oooOOooOOooo

NOTICE: THE EPILOGUE CHAPTERS GET A YAOI/SLASH WARNING! IF YOU DON'T LIKE, DON'T READ! Nothing too explicit, but it may be enough to startle the more timid. Please only read the rest of this if you understand this warning. Flame liberally if you are stupid.

Here it is! The first part of the epilogue sort of chapters! Yay! Umm, this is going to be a little weird. Most of this is going to be disjointed and some of it will be from the other Harry's point of view, and some from other peoples'…. These will also (more likely than not) be much less developed. It is not a sequel, but a wrapping up of ideas that I have associated with this world.

This first part starts up with the "real world" Harry (called, from now on, "Harry") right after the last chapter. I can't decide how detailed I'm gonna get with this, but I had to write his conversation with Draco, so it obviously needed something to lead into it…right? Enjoy. ^_^

oooOOooOOooo

After ushering Harry into the kitchen, James called, "Lily!" As he walked by the window into the dining room he paused, looking outside. His brow furrowed and he opened his mouth a little, but chose not to speak.

Noticing his father's odd behavior and thinking of the other Harry crouched in the bushes, Harry said, "Dad?"

James glared out the window for a few seconds before pulling the blinds and looking at son. "Yeah?"

"I—"

"I'll get your mother." Continuing through to the next room, James called again, "Lily?"

Shit. Harry opened the refrigerator just to be doing anything.

"Harry? Harry!" Lily flew in from the hall and threw herself on Harry. His bad ankle shook as he hugged her back. He was so relieved to see her, to know she was alive and all right.

It was actually his insistence that his mother was not dead that had made Ron and Hermione think he was crazy. Everything else they said he would get over when his memories came back, but he and Ron almost exchanged punches over this. He had known she was alive. There was no way he wouldn't know if something terrible had happened to her….

When Lily let him go, there were tears on her cheeks. "What happened?"

Harry looked at her. He supposed he should have tried harder to come up with an alibi. He knew he was supposed to have been at Ron's house….

"When you didn't come home we called Ron and he said you'd left his house. We had everyone looking for you."

Harry sighed and shifted his feet . This was going to be hard. What should he say? Something close to the truth would probably be best…. "I don't remember a thing," he finally answered.

Lily looked skeptical.

James was still very quiet and he kept glancing at the covered window. There was an odd look on his face as he looked at his son's arm (which was still scarred from the burn Mrs. Weasley had not been able to heal completely) and—more disturbingly—his forehead.

They'll notice the scar is gone.

Not noticing any of these things, Lily pressed heedlessly, "Nothing?"

"A little, I guess, but nothing that makes any sense. I was going somewhere with Ron, but after that it's pretty much blank."

Still unconvinced, Lily said, "Well, we should get you to a doctor. Your ankle is pretty badly swollen."

"It's not as bad as it looks. I think I just slipped and hit my head."

"Just!"

Walking around them to open the hallway door, James said, "Just get him into bed for the moment. I'll get some ice."

Shaking her head, Lily put an arm around him, said, "You're so thin. You haven't eaten anything, have you?"

"Not for a couple days," he admitted.

Aside from several scraps Severus had sneaked to him, Harry hadn't had much substantial to eat the entire time Voldemort had him imprisoned. Thinking of those very long months, he shuttered. In some ways, he resented the other Harry for not erasing his memories like he was supposed to. It would have been much easier to get back to normal life if he didn't have to keep thinking of that other place.

Once Harry was helped into bed, James walked in with a Ziplock bag of ice cubes. He handed it to Harry and said, "Should I call Doc?"

"It's the best idea," Lily answered, though she sounded as if she wanted to say something more. She was glaring at Harry like a vulture scrutinizing a limping calf. "I—"

"Lils," James said quietly, "let it go."

Feeling a bit guilty and surprised at his parents' mild reactions, Harry said, "I'm really sorry I worried you, Mum. It's better now though."

Leaning over, Lily hugged him tightly. "Don't ever do anything like this again. I couldn't take it a third time."

He hugged her back. "Neither could I," he assured her.

Wiping tears off her cheeks, Lily started out of the room. James stayed for several seconds, watching Harry closely.

Not having ever been particularly affectionate with his father in any sense beyond watching games together, Harry felt very awkward as he said, "I'm sorry I worried you, too, Dad."

"Harry—" James paused, seemed to think better of what he was going to say, then shook his head. "Just be careful from now on, OK?"

Harry nodded.

Though he still had that strange look on his face and his eyes raked his son's forehead as though desperate to see something there, James said no more.

He liked the other Harry better, Harry thought, pouting a little. Sodding suck up.

oooOOooOOooo

Harry was confined to bed for the following two days mostly out of Lily's insistence. She didn't want to risk him hurting himself any more than he already had. This would have left Harry extremely bored if Ron and Hermione had not paid him a visit as soon as they learned he was back.

After hanging up from talking to Ron, Harry lied in bed expectantly, leafing through a new soccer magazine as he waited for them to arrive. When the doorbell rang, he set the magazine aside and pushed himself up and waited. He knew his mother hadn't left for her study group yet and would let them in.

"Do you think he's all right?" Ron's whisper carried up the stairs along with the thumping of footsteps.

"'All right' like what?" Hermione's bristling voice replied. "I'm sure he's not disfigured, or anything."

"Dunno." A pause. "And why'd you bring those?" Ron sounded slightly disgusted.

"Harry'll want to catch up what he's missed, I'm sure."

Good old Hermione. Harry had been very anxious about his marks in school and he felt a swell of appreciation and affection towards her for bringing his work.

There was a knock on the door.

"Come in."

The door eased open and Ron and Hermione entered quietly.

"How are you?"

"Dead bored," Harry answered.

Ron was still glowering at the pile of books Hermione was setting on the desk. "Hermione's fixed that for you."

Grinning, Harry said, "Excellent."

"Everyone's said you can turn in your assignments when you go back and Remus said to tell you he'd stop in this afternoon," Hermione relayed. When she finished, she sat on the bed by Harry and hugged him. "I was really—"

"Worried. I know. So was everyone else." A swell of guilt flooded him. These were his best friends and he felt like he should tell them everything. At the same time, he knew he would never tell them any of it. Instead, he said, "I'm fine, I promise."

"I'm not covering for you any more, though, mate," Ron said. He shook his head. "Every fucking time."

Hermione glared at Ron.

"I almost got into a lot of trouble. Barely convinced them I had seen you Friday and Saturday, but that you were gone Sunday."

"Sorry about that. Obviously, things didn't go the way I planned."

Still glaring, Hermione said, "It was irresponsible, whatever you did." She eyed the burn on his arm.

Cutting off the question that was sure to come next, Harry said, "Unfortunately, I have to agree-" he kept his tone light, "as I don't have a clue what I did do."

"Not at all?"

He shook his head. Changing the subject, Harry said, "Catch me up on stuff. How's school?"

"About the same as last week," Ron said dully.

"Really, it's true." Hermione sat on the edge of his bed. "Exams are still far enough away that no one's having fits."

"Hermione's already started studying, of course."

She glared at Ron.

Secretly thinking that he would join her manic study sessions for once, Harry asked, "And soccer? How's the team?"

"All right. We lost on Saturday. Draco was sick, or something, so he sucked, but it was mostly because we were down three players. Creepy finally got busted for missing too many practices. Teddie and Seamus got suspended for one game for skipping out on a meeting for that orientation thing." Ron sneered pointedly, "That one was Snape's own doing. He doesn't care if the team suffers at all."

"Orientation?" Harry asked.

Ron and Hermione shared a look and Harry glared.

"I told you guys, my memory's a bit shit. Either explain or don't, but quit acting like I'm three."

"Sorry," Ron said sheepishly. "They got picked to help in the orientation for the first years as sport reps. Nothing too huge, but for some reason Snape seems to think it's important they do it. Coach Hooch never would have killed us in a game over something so stupid."

"Yeah." Harry threw his magazine aside. "Wait. Coach Hooch never would have—What happened to Hooch?"

The two shared another look and Hermione shook her head.

Harry glared again. There seemed to be some very important things the other Harry forgot to mention….

"Snape's been coaching. Remember? Budget cuts? You were pissed about it?"

Falling back on his bed, Harry covered his face with his pillow and yelled until his throat felt raw. This couldn't get worse.

"All right, mate?"

Throwing his pillow across the room and sitting up, Harry ran his hand through his hair, making it stand up even more. He looked around. This was going to take some serious fixing. With Hooch he could have just explained that he felt better and he'd be back on the team. Snape, though….

I wonder where my chem grade is, he mused distractedly. He eyed the pile of textbooks. "Let's go out for food. I need to chill for a while." He stood up and pulled at his T-shirt restlessly.

Ron smirked. "You might want pants."

Harry looked down and was surprised to realize he still had his sweats on. "Yeah. Wait downstairs. I'll be there in a minute."

Looking worried, Hermione stood and led the way out of the room.

Harry dressed quickly then left the room as well. This was too much to take in. Fortunately both of his parents were out—Lily to her session on campus and James to a brunch/meeting sort of thing with the office. This left no one to tell him he couldn't go out.

He walked carefully downstairs. His ankle (which had been stomped on by the short, fat man with a strange, metal hand) wasn't broken and felt mostly better, but he was still favoring it. Harry shivered as he recalled the incident and wondered, not for the first time, if maybe he hadn't really hit his head and been dreaming.

You don't get scars in your dream, he told himself, looking down at the burn on his arm. A different man gave him that…Severus. He shivered again as that memory returned.

After days of isolation, the harsh light that fell on Harry when the door opened blinded him. Pulling his hand up to his eyes, he peered up. A person entered the room. It took a moment for his eyes to adjust, but he recognized the man who stood over him.

"Severus!" Despite his weakness from hunger, he pushed himself up and stumbled towards the man. "Thank God, Severus!" Before he reached the man another figure entered: the white man with red eyes. Gagging at the sight of him, Harry put Severus between the two of them. "Sev." His voice shook.

"Severus," the red-eyed man hissed, glaring down at Harry, "he must be taught a lesson."

"S-Severus," Harry whimpered. He wanted to go to the man but the cold distance with which Severus was staring down at him made him barely dare look him in the eye.

There was a moment when Severus looked like he wanted to help. His dark eyes softened a little. Then he took a wand from his robes and pointed it at Harry. Harry lifted his arm to shield himself. Pain like he had never felt ripped through his flesh. It stun and burned, and made his eyes water. He screamed and crumbled, cradling his arm carefully.

High, cold laughter came from some place very far away. "Are you scared, Harry Potter? Did you still believe he would protect you, even after what you saw on the tower?" Long, cold fingers curled into Harry's hair and yanked his tear-stained face upwards so he couldn't help but stare into those glowing, inhuman eyes.

"He has always been mine and always will be."

Shaking his head as he walked into the living room where Ron and Hermione were waiting, Harry said, "Ready?"

"Yup. Where you wanna go?"

Harry shrugged and pulled the door open. "Pizza sounds good." Stepping out into the warm sunlight felt good and he sighed as some of his depression faded.

As they walked down the street Ron and Hermione argued about classes and every now and then Harry would ask if he didn't know what they were talking about. They reached the pizza place about half an hour later.

Pushing their way into the crowded restaurant, the three scanned the room for a table. Spotting one, Ron pointed and said, "I'll save it while you guys order. Anything without olives is fine by me."

Harry and Hermione approached the counter.

A girl with a high, bleached ponytail looked at them in very bored way. "What can I get you?"

"A large pepperoni and green peppers, and three Cokes," Harry said.

"And an order of cheese sticks," Hermione added, fishing her wallet out of her purse.

"Don't worry about it," Harry said. "I've got plenty." It had actually surprised him greatly to find so much money stashed in his dresser: it seemed as though the other Harry hadn't taken much advantage of his generous allowance. All the better, Harry figured, since it was supposed to be his money in the first place.

Pushing her money back in the bag without question, Hermione leaned against the counter and looked across at Ron.

Harry smiled a little as he looked around the room. His smile fell when he saw Draco and Pansy sitting together by the window. What was he doing with her? Annoyance and jealousy swelled inside him, along with the desire to go over and hug Draco. To kiss him. Harry's stomach ached with it.

Frowning, Hermione said, "You do still plan on staying away from her, don't you?"

"What? Who?"

"Pansy."

"Oh. More or less. When did she and Draco start spending time together?"

He tried to sound nonchalant, but Hermione eyed him shrewdly. "When did you care what Draco did with his free time?" She took the Cokes and moved down to get straws.

"It's just odd. After the fight they had last year." It was a weak cover, but it was better than nothing, and at least a partial truth.

When Pansy had discovered Draco and Harry were dating she'd been furious with both of them. There were a few weeks when Harry thought she might tell everyone about them, but in the end she calmed down, though she never quite forgave Draco. She probably also realized she'd be hard-pressed to prove it: Harry and Draco's public relationship was one carefully crafted over several years, portraying nothing but the deepest loathing. They'd even gone far enough as to get into physical altercation. There was one time he thought he'd broken Draco's nose by accident. Somehow it all seemed so stupid now, and Harry regretted it.

Sighing, Hermione said, "If you must know, they have a project together in European History. I'm working with Marcus." She pulled a face and nudged Harry towards the table where Ron was waiting. "They're probably just meeting for that."

"Yeah," Harry said slowly. He kept watching Draco as he went to sit and only looked away when Ron said, "What'd you get?"

Hermione answered and handed him his drink, then sat beside him.

Harry sipped from his drink and plotted out his conversation with Draco. He couldn't tell him the truth: that would sound crazy. And they'd have to meet. No way was he doing this over the phone. Harry pulled out the cell phone that had been on his desk when he got home. How the other Harry had convinced his parents to buy him a phone when he himself had not managed to was beyond him, but he was grateful. Punching in Draco's number, he typed out a text message.

"What are you doing?"

"Just checking to see if Dean and Seamus are free this weekend. I thought we might see a movie, or something," he lied easily, still typing with his thumb: hey sexy. can we meet sometime this week?

A moment passed and Harry laughed at something Ron said as he watched Draco take his phone out of his jacket. Draco said something to Pansy, who looked at Harry. She was glaring at him as Draco typed into his phone.

A second later Harry's phone started vibrating. He flipped it open: I guess. Friday, after practice. Usual place.

"Are they free?" Ron asked. "I wouldn't mind seeing that action flick again."

Harry typed ok then looked at Ron. "That was Seamus. He won't know until tomorrow. Said to get back to him."

The conversation turned to holiday plans as Hermione talked about the universities she was going to visit with her parents over vacation.

The waitress showed up a minute later. "Pepperoni and green peppers with a side of cheeses sticks?"

Harry looked up at her—she was a cute brunette—and nodded, smiling. "Here."

She set the food on the table, passed out forks and piled napkins in the middle, then walked away.

Feeling properly hungry for the first time in days, Harry dug into the cheese sticks ravenously. For a long time he just listened to Ron and Hermione talk. He was busy thinking about Draco and wondering what he should say when they met.

oooOOooOOooo

Harry stayed home from school for the rest of the week. His parents discovered he'd gone out and Lily had yelled herself hoarse and grounded him for a month (a punishment Harry knew she wouldn't stick to once she'd calmed down).

On Thursday Remus stopped in to see Harry and talk to him about class.

"I won't sugar-coat it," he said, looking old. "You're not doing very well. I know these two weeks aren't your fault, but—"

With a smile, Harry pulled the pile of finished Civics work out of his book bag and set it on the table in front of the man. "All caught up." He grinned.

Remus frowned and eyed him warily. He flipped through the pages and, at length, said, "I'll look over this tonight and give you a call if there are any problems. Do you have any questions?"

Harry shook his head. He'd done the chapters the previous day. Civics was one of the easier subjects because he didn't have to figure anything out, like math of chemistry. All he had to do was read and fill in the blanks.

"All right. Well, we'll see what this looks like. You'll still have to work hard to get ready for the exam, though," Remus added as though clinging to a carefully planned lecture.

"I should be all set for it." Harry laced his fingers behind his head and smiled winningly.

Still not looking entirely convinced, Remus asked if James was home, then went into his friend's office when Harry said he was there.

He must have been terrible, Harry mused, thinking of the other Harry. But that should catch me up a bit. He stood and went to the garage to get a soccer ball then went out back.

Despite his confidence with his makeup work, Harry was still agitated about his overall grade and kicking the ball around usually helped him relax. He dribbled back and forth for half an hour. Stopping the ball under his foot, Harry looked up at the sky. It was clear, crisp blue in one direction; hazy and pink in the other. Almost dinner time.

The back door opened and James stepped out. He hadn't talked to Harry much over the past couple days: he'd been very busy at work. "There you are."

Looking at his father, Harry asked, "Wanna kick the ball around?" He was still annoyed that James seemed to favor the other Harry and wanted to do something to get back on his good side.

James smiled. "Sure." He closed the door. "For a few minutes."

The two played a short skirmish in which the space between the garden wall and the shed was their common goal: whoever got the ball in scored. James took the first three points easily.

"How's that ankle?" James taunted with a grin.

"Fine." Harry answered. He darted forward and scooped the ball away from its resting place at the far end of the yard from the goal and started down the lawn keeping close to the garden. He was slower than he used to be. Not that he'd ever been good at getting points up on his dad, but he normally would have scored something by now.

Harry faked right, kicked the ball pasted James, then looped him to catch it and run out the goal.

After he kicked it into the shadowy space, he turned to James, grinning. "How's that knee?" he taunted back.

Taking the challenge for what it was, James grinned as well and started in earnest. They were outside for over an hour and Harry was just pulling even in points at 13 to 14 when the back door opened again.

Lily stood on the step looking horrified at them. "James, be easy!"

James was running Harry against the garden wall, all thoughts of injured ankles pushed from his and Harry's minds. Harry took advantage of James letting up to take the ball and make a long shot at the goal. James stopped it short and, laughing, said, "Oh, no you don't." He made the pass himself and Harry, still behind his father, could do nothing to stop it.

Harry swore but didn't really mind.

"It's time for dinner," Lily called, her voice laced with disapproval.

Still grinning, James clapped Harry on the shoulder. "Looked good for someone who hasn't been on a field in so long."

Putting his hands on his hips and watching James retrieve the ball, Harry said, "I'm thinking of asking Sev if I can get back on the team. There are still a few games left."

Though he looked as though he wanted to say something else, James just nodded, beaming proudly.

"Wash up, you two," Lily instructed, closing the door after they were inside. She went to set the table and serve out the food.

Whatever wall had formed between James and Harry seemed to have broken. They talked through dinner as thought nothing had changed since before the accident. Things became a little awkward when James suggested they visit Sirius after dinner and check on the car.

"It's just about done. Shame not to finish it before school is out."

Harry nodded, musing bitterly that he hadn't gotten to do more of the work on it. He didn't like the idea of getting dirty working on a car, but it was something he'd anticipated since he learned the car was his.

"Harry is still restricted," Lily said sternly.

"Aw, Lils. It's not like he's going out with friends."

"Yeah, Mom," Harry added, making a face. "What do I want to hang around Uncle Sirius for? It'll be punishment enough."

Lily frowned deeply but James was smiling even more.

"Honey." James nudged her in the arm.

"Fine! He can go work on that car!" She fumed for several minutes then said softly, "It was good to see you out playing. It's been a while."

Surprised but pleased, Harry said, "It's been a while since I felt up to it." He paused to eat some potatoes. "That reminds me though. If I'm gonna ask Severus if I can get back on the team I'll need to do that soon. Can I go up to the school Friday to see him?"

Debating, perhaps realizing that her restriction was shattering around her, Lily finally nodded. "All right."

oooOOooOOooo

Friday crawled slowly towards Harry, his meeting with Draco looming like a dark shadow. When Friday morning finally arrived he was no closer to knowing what he was going to say to Draco, and he'd just given up. The right words would come when they were needed, he was sure of it.

Harry spent most of the day pacing and straightening things in his room. He tried to do some home work, but it was no good. At one o' clock he gathered what he had done of his Chemistry and shoved it in his book bag. He might as well give it to Severus for grading since he had to see him anyway.

Leaving the house, Harry walked towards Eldwood, taking several shortcuts through yards and down a narrow way behind the convenience store by the park: he arrived at one-fifteen. More than enough time to talk to Severus while practice finished up.

Following the shouts and whistle blasts around the school building, Harry stopped when he saw his team on the field before him. There had been times over the past few months—many of them—when he was sure he would never see this again. He thought he would die—thought he had died. A wave of gratitude washed over him.

Harry made his way towards a lonely figure near the bleachers who was reading from a sheet on a clipboard. "Professor," he called. Harry had been forbidden from his first year to call Severus anything other than "professor" at school, but he did slip frequently.

Severus looked up. "Your mother said you were feeling better." He didn't look particularly pleased or concerned to see Harry.

Ignoring the familiarly cool tone, Harry said, "Yep. And guess what?"

Severus sighed. "I don't want to play your idiotic games Potter. Either tell me why you're here or go away."

Smiling, realizing how much he missed the man and wondering if he would really risk his life to save him the way the other Severus had, Harry said, "I want back on the team."

"My roster is full." He turned away from the boy.

"But—"

"No buts, Potter. You did not take your position when it was open and there is no need for mid-season tryouts."

"There are, too!" he argued with a glare. "Creevy's off the team. There's an opening. I'll try out if you like, but I'd think you'd let me on and make life easier for yourself."

Severus looked as though he had something sour in his mouth. His eyes shifted to look into Harry's.

Harry worked to suppress a grin. He was going to say yes….

"I told you your managing would be subject to grades staying where they should be. Not only are they not where they should be," he jabbed the clipboard at Harry pointedly, "but you have missed several practices and games in row. And with the physical trauma you have suffered, I question the wisdom of letting you play. I would be loathed to take part in further injuring you." Severus peered at him benignly.

Harry glared. "If I pull my marks up by report?"

"But then there'll only be two games left."

Biting back his annoyance, he said, "Scouts go to the last couple games, too."

"Ah. And here is the truth. You have lounged around all season and you hope to come in at the last minute and take scholarships from other, more deserving players?"

Harry finally exploded. "Like you give a damn about the other players!"

"Tone, Potter."

"Tone, yourself," he snapped, pulling the completed chemistry work out of his bag and dropping it on top of the clipboard. "There. Every piece of work I've missed except one take-home quiz. I'm not slacking off!"

The two stared at each other fiercely for several seconds. Severus's eyes flickered to the papers. "You have become ambitious," he observed slowly. There was something regretful in his voice.

Harry peered at him appraisingly. Had he liked the other Harry better as well? No. Why would he? Severus hated students who didn't study and work hard to get decent grades. Harry's anger melted as he realized he'd just yelled at a man who did not appreciate being yelled at. "I know I've had a bad start, but things are better now." Pleading, he pressed, "Just let me play. I'll still manage equipment if you want, but I—"

"That's enough," Severus said, taking the home work and dropping it carelessly in a heap on the lowest rise of seats. "Detention, I think, for your tone and disrespect. Two evenings starting this Monday. And I think a Saturday suspension will do as well."

Feeling he'd earned it with his temper, Harry asked lowly, "If I serve those, do I get my spot on the team?"

Severus studied him for a moment. "You will not be captain."

"That's fine."

"And I think you would do well to apologize for your outburst."

"I'm sorry."

Another moment passed in silence.

"Please, Severus."

Casting about, Severus looked away from Harry's eyes. He studied his face and frowned. He scrutinized the rest of him more closely, his gaze falling heavily upon the stretch of scarred flesh on his arm.

Harry shifted to hide the burn. "Professor?"

"I will check these papers. If they are enough to raise your grade to Exceeds Expectations, I will consider. And it will depend upon your attitude in your detentions. Am I clear?"

Relief swept over Harry and he smiled despite himself. "Yes. Thank you."

"Don't thank me yet," the man answered darkly.

Harry took his bag and went to the bench by the practice field. He tossed it on the ground and sat heavily. He'd love to see the stat book and find out who was leading—besides Draco, of course.

Thinking about Draco again, Harry felt his skin grow warm. He watched the other boy on the field. He ran hard towards the goal Ron was protecting, his arms and legs pumping furiously, the tendons and muscles on his limbs straining and glistening with sweat. He was beautiful.

Better than the other Draco any day, he thought. Once more he slipped into memories of the other world. If he had been disappointed to find Severus willing to hurt him, Draco's betrayal was the worse.

"Get off me, Potter!" Draco yelled as Harry threw himself towards the familiar boy.

But this was Draco! He had to be good!

Draco knocked him to the floor and kicked him away. "Think I'm a school chum?" he spat in disgust.

The men in cloaks and hoods laughed as Harry stared up in disbelief. His Draco was here in this hell, but he was one of the evil ones? The ones who hunted him? No. It was impossible.

Pushing the memory away, Harry chose, instead, to think of the moment Draco revealed himself to be a spy. Harry had been starving. He'd been in that dark room alone for what felt like years. Then there came a whisper at the door:

"Potter! You're still alive, right?"

"D-Draco?" Harry's mouth was parched. He could barely speak and his felt like he was working sand down his throat as he swallowed.

"I brought you food and drink." Small, flattened packages were passed below the door. "The food's not the greatest, but it's the best you'll get. Snape sent it."

Scurrying forward, Harry collected the paper-wrapped gifts. He tore into them and devoured the food hungrily. A thin canteen that seemed to be made of fabric was squeezed in next. Harry drank the water so quickly that some of it sloshed down his front. He didn't care: it felt so good to have the cool on his bare chest and in his stomach.

"Now listen," Draco whispered at the keyhole. "The Dark Lord is trying to starve you into telling him what you know about the Order. He plans to question you in two days. I'll come back with more food before then, but I want you to be warned: you must not say anything! Snape and I will be in the room when it happens. We won't let things get out of hand, but you have to understand, we can't stop him from torturing you a bit."

A whimper came from Harry's throat against his will. He dropped the canteen, suddenly unconcerned with drinking. He might never drink or eat again and not mind it. Wasting away slowly seemed nothing compared to what Draco was telling him would happen. The last time he'd been in the same room as the red-eyed man had been terrible….And what sorts of torture was in store for him?

"Harry," Draco said a little more loudly. "You have to trust us and you have to stay quiet! Do you understand? A lot of people will be—" Draco stopped talking.

Fear gripped Harry. "Draco?" he croaked. "Draco?"

"Shh! Someone's coming. Hide the papers!" There was scrambling in the hallway and footsteps, but the door did not open.

Harry pushed the paper scraps into his pockets and hid the canteen in a pile of rags in the corner. Scared and somehow hungrier than before, Harry curled up against the wall farthest from the door. He felt heartened at Draco's encouragement, but he wished he did not have to face a questioning. He felt Draco and Severus should have little to worry about, though, because he did not know enough about this order of theirs to cause trouble….

"Balls, Potter!"

Harry looked up, brought back to the present by Severus's impatient call.

"If you're going to hang around, you're going to be useful."

With a sigh, Harry stood and picked up the mesh bag and began gathering the practice equipment. It was a bit humbling: this work was usually left to underclassmen who didn't make the team, but who wanted a leg up for next season. Like Dennis Creevy.

When everything was picked up and put in the shed, Harry took his bag and ducked behind the bleachers. Draco would wait for everyone else to leave, so he knew he had a few minutes before he'd come. Harry sat and waited.

It felt like hours passed before Draco put his face around the end of the bleachers. "Not this usual place," he said with annoyance. "I meant the new usual place. Out front."

Harry frowned. "We never meet out front." He climbed to his feet and dusted off the seat of his pants.

Draco frowned as well.

Harry shook his head and muttered, "Doesn't matter."

Draco stared impatiently. "So, what did you want? After your disappearing act."

Harry looked at Draco for several seconds. Being this close to him and smelling the clean scent of his familiar body wash was intoxicating. All he could manage to say was, "I've missed you so much over the last few months."

"You could have seen me any time you wanted," Draco answered coolly.

Harry didn't say anything for several seconds. "Draco, I couldn't remember very much after the accident. I couldn't even remember my parents for the most part. When I saw you, I was just reacting to how you were treating me because I didn't remember that we were dating."

Draco looked skeptical, his arms crossing over his chest almost involuntarily.

"I know it sounds insane," Harry admitted. "I would think so too. When I found out we were dating I didn't know what to think. It took a while to adjust to the idea. Not because I didn't like it, but because it seemed to go against everything else going on in my life."

"I get that you went through something traumatic. I know we're playing the sympathy game and I agree that, for once, you deserve it. But this is too much, Harry."

"Please, just listen. You said you'd listen."

Sighing, Draco said, "Fine."

Harry took a deep breath and let it out slowly. He was about to say something he had sworn to never say to anyone, no matter what. The previous months had given him a lot to think about, though, and he was ready to be honest with Draco and himself. He looked Draco in the eye. "I love you."

"Fuck you." Draco started to walk away.

Grabbing for Draco's arm, Harry fumbled for a moment before he caught hold of him and pulled him to a stop. "Draco, I do." He pulled the other boy around so they were facing each other. "I know it's crazy, and I know—"

"You don't know anything!" Draco yelled, wrenching his arm out of Harry's grasp. "All you know is that you can do whatever you want and then everyone forgives you! I can't do that, Harry. And now this," he spat.

"It's true," Harry pleaded. "I've missed being with you so much I couldn't stand it." He felt tears welling in his eyes, but he made no move to stop them from spilling down his cheeks. Dignity be damned, he needed Draco to understand that he meant it! "I love you. I always have—yes, even when I was being a bastard to you. I'm sorry, but please believe me."

Shaking his head, Draco said, "No. I'm sorry, but not this time. Nothing has changed."

"Everything has changed!"

"You have not changed!"

Harry went silent.

Draco sighed. "I'm sorry," he said sincerely, "but I have to go now."

Harry did not try to stop the other boy leaving. He couldn't. He was frozen in place watching the only person he really cared about walk away from him. For a moment he hated that other Harry for doing this. He wished they'd never switched places.

But then I wouldn't have this chance, he thought. I'd be dead and it wouldn't matter how much Draco loved me. But I have a chance now.

Steeling his resolve, Harry scrubbed the drying tears off his face and started on the long walk home. He would prove that he had changed. He'd learned that some things were worth sacrificing everything to get and he would do anything to make Draco realize he was telling the truth this time.

TBC