Fic: Everything Forgotten (To Memory), part 5

[icmezzo_archive]

FIC: Everything Forgotten (To Memory), part 5

Gift for:  envy_venis
Summary: Harry couldn't remember and Draco knew too much. Or was it the other way around?
Rating: NC-17
Disclaimer: All Harry Potter characters herein are the property of J.K. Rowling and Bloomsbury/Scholastic. No copyright infringement is intended.
Thanks: To my delightful prereaders and betas sapphirescribe, otta_ff, saltygoodness24, twilightmundi, and arcadianmaggie, I offer you endless thanks and epic squishes. xoxo

Here's the conclusion of Everything Forgotten. Thank you for reading. I hope you enjoyed!

 

Part 5

 

It seemed as though Harry rarely left the Manor after that. He didn't want to, and Draco never seemed to nudge him toward the Floo.

They read the paper together, worked together, used the Pensieve, and talked. They discussed Dumbledore, and the trials, the intricacies of house elf grammar, and the merits of essence of dittany in powdered form. Unless, of course, they didn't feel like talking, in which case they simply busied themselves with their tasks and minded their own business, except to glance at each other once in awhile. Or, at least, Harry looked at Draco. But he was pretty sure he caught Draco's eye on him a few times as well.

There was definite pressure to continue to come up with new memories to share, and it was getting harder and harder to remain objective as he watched. But he had to try. After all, if they ran out, Harry'd have to admit why he was spending all his time with Draco regardless. No, best to keep coming up with new ones. He even tried once to pass off his own daydreams as one of Draco's memories, but Draco gave him a look afterwards and suggested Harry keep his imaginings of the Slytherin Quidditch locker room to himself, thanks ever so.

After spending five days straight with Draco, being with him morning until night and only Flooing home to sleep, Harry found himself in a bit of a predicament.

Namely, he found himself leaning longingly against the door to the loo.

Since Draco was showering on the other side, it wouldn't have been proper for Harry to get any closer.

Instead, he rested his cheek and hands against the wood, and listened to the sounds of the water as it poured from the showerhead and landed, presumably, on Draco's smooth white skin. If he was a droplet of water, that's where he'd aim, at least. Yes, he'd go right for Draco's forehead, so as to touch as much of his skin as possible on the way down. He'd slide slowly over Draco's eyelids and then his nose, curl over the swell of his lips, then run along his chin, down the exquisite angles of his neck with a slight detour to his shoulder. He'd then make his way down Draco's chest and the flat plane of his abdomen before slowing up to glide over the length of his prick, pink and heavy between his legs.

And if he had to fall from there down to the shower floor and into the drain, well, it would have all been worth it, Harry decided. He hoped the water knew just how lucky it was.

Oh yes, Harry was officially a mess if he was envious of water, for Merlin's sake.

This was bad, Harry thought, closing his eyes. He couldn't continue like this. He wanted to share more than past memories; he wanted to make new ones, and do so with Draco beside him.

Harry swallowed. It was time to tell Draco.

As he listened to Draco turn off the water, clean now after their impromptu Quidditch match, and Summon a towel, he formed a plan.

That night, when Harry got into bed, he wanked once more to the memory of when he and Draco had fucked.

Then, with all of the Gryffindor courage he could muster, he isolated the new memory—the one of him touching himself while watching their past—and with shaking hands, placed it into a vial he'd readied on his nightstand.

~oOo~

Harry's nerves put him on edge the following day, and while he was certain Draco noticed, they proceeded with their usual arrangement: working together on the Manor in the morning as they discussed some aspect of their past (Snape, this time). Then in the afternoon, they watched in the Pensieve all of the memories that had popped up during the morning.

Afterwards they ate dinner with only minor interruptions from Mipsy and took a walk through the Manor grounds, stopping to pick a few herbs that Draco needed for his potion supply closet. The gardens were impressive now that they were growing happily again after Harry's relentless weeding spells and Draco's careful pruning. In fact, the Manor as a whole was in good shape these days. Draco was barely casting any more glamours, and while the furnishings may not have been as glorious as they once were, considering the state of the Malfoy coffers and the lack of house elves, it was looking altogether decent and liveable and there wasn't actually much more for them to do. Harry tried not to think about that too much.

Finally, when it was late and time for Harry to leave, he removed the vial which held his memory from the night before, and, when Draco wasn't watching, left it on the table with a little note.

"I remembered one more," it said.

He Floo'd home immediately afterwards, his face crimson and his stomach tied in utter knots, wondering when Draco would find the note, and how he'd react. It was a distinct possibility Harry had just ruined absolutely everything.

He was pouring himself a glass of wine and planning to sit on the sofa with a small fire and the day's issue of The Daily Prophet, when he heard an owl pecking at his window pane.

Harry gave a treat to the owl, a brown spotted one he didn't recognize, and gathered the missive from her leg before releasing her again for her return journey.

He held the note and held his breath as he opened it, assuming the worst.

He was half-afraid Draco would yell at him for his stunt or for abusing his access to Draco's memories. Or worse, that Draco would try to reject him gently, but cease wanting to spend time with him.

Gods, Harry was nauseous and...sweating? Yes, definitely sweating. And he almost couldn't bear to even open the message for fear of what it would say. Bloody hell, what had he been thinking, leaving that vial for Draco?

He closed his eyes as he broke the seal and unfurled the small scroll.

When Harry finally looked at it, it didn't contain Draco's neat print. It was actually a sheet of St. Mungo's stationery. Sighing with relief, Harry charmed a small fire in the fireplace and sat down on the sofa with his note.

Sipping at his wine, he read it. When he was finished, he crumpled it into a little ball and tossed it into the fireplace.

He let out a deep sigh.

So that was that, then.

The room was silent but for the crackling of the fire. Staring at it, Harry let memories wash over him, one by one. His memories. Draco's memories. Did it even matter any longer whose were whose? They were a giant jumble in his head, but he found he no longer cared.

After significant research, the Healers at St. Mungo's have come to the conclusion that the effects of the misfired Obliviation spell are both permanent and irreversible, the note had said. Barring any future findings, we are terminating our research and will consider the case closed.

Irreversible.

But not necessarily irreparable. Or, at least Harry no longer felt broken.

At least not yet, he thought, his mind immediately returning to thoughts of Draco.

Harry watched the flames lick at the logs in the fireplace as his mind travelled to events he'd witnessed, a few he hadn't, and even more so, what he hoped lay ahead.

It was a full two hours later—quite late really—when Harry heard another owl peck at his window. This time, though, it was a Malfoy owl.

He read the note she bore: "I'm at your door and Muggles are staring at me. Let me in?"

Harry snorted, despite the nerves and heat that flaring in his belly. Leave it to Draco to owl instead of ringing the doorbell or knocking. He went to the door, his heart pounding.

"Well!" Draco huffed as he entered. "The nerve!"

"I..Oh. Er..." Harry stammered and he felt his face heat. "Sorry."

Draco spared him a glance. "What in Merlin's name do you have to be sorry about? Didn't you get your letter?"

"My...letter? Oh, you mean from Mungo's? Yeah. Got it. Burned it." Harry shrugged and gestured to the fire, not at all interested in discussing the letter, though this apparently went unnoticed by Draco, who promptly began ranting about it.

"The utter nerve of them, just giving up like that!" Draco paced around the room, punctuating his remarks by waving his copy of the letter around in the air. "I have every intention of marching straight into Mungo's tomorrow morning and telling them that they'll cease their research when I tell them t—Wait." Draco paused and looked at Harry. "Aren't you upset about it?"

Harry shrugged, sitting down on his sofa. "It's not so bad. At least, I hadn't thought so, not anymore..."

"Yes, well," Draco paused for a moment. "That may be true, but it's the principle of the matter, after all! Healers shouldn't simply stop researching whenever they feel like..."

Harry couldn't listen to Draco. He felt more and more as though he ought to find a medium-to-large sized hole to curl up in and hide for six months or so. Harry looked at Draco, who was still complaining about the state of the wizard healthcare programme, the lack of dedication of the current staff of Healers, and even Harry's dining table, as he stubbed his toe on it once when he marched by.

Harry sighed. Either Draco hadn't seen Harry's vial or he hadn't felt like watching the memory. Or, worse even, he had watched it, been completely uninterested or even disgusted, and had decided the only course of action was to ignore he'd ever seen it. Gods, what had Harry been thinking?

"...half nine should work, I'd think, unless they're even lazier than I imagine. Shall I meet you outside, then?"

Harry looked up. Draco had stopped his pacing and was apparently looking for some sort of response. "Tomorrow?" Harry finally asked.

"No, I thought we'd wait a week before confronting the Mungo's Board of Directors," Draco said.

Harry sighed again, more loudly this time. "Fine. Half nine tomorrow. See you there."

"Excellent. I'll just be going then."

"Okay." Harry got up and showed Draco to the door.

"Goodnight, Harry," Draco said, his voice slightly teasing. It struck Harry as odd, considering that Draco had spent the last 20 minutes ranting about what he apparently considered a grave injustice. At that point, however, Harry had moved from mortified to exhausted, and he couldn't be bothered to return Draco's smile.

"Yeah. All right. 'Night." Harry shut the door and promptly banged his head thrice against the nearest wall.

With a groan, he gathered his remaining energy and moved to extinguish his fire and put away his newspaper, deciding that bed was the only possible place for him at that point.

It wasn't until he'd flicked off one of the lights that he noticed something shiny sitting on his table. Rubbing his eyes, Harry moved to look closer.

A vial.

A vial holding a memory. With a little note tucked beneath it.

Harry's stomach leaped into his throat. He flicked back on the lights, his exhaustion completely forgotten. Swallowing, he slowly reached for it and unfolded the note.

"I remember too,"it said.

Harry felt like he couldn't breathe.

Could it be that Draco had...used their memory as well?

Without another thought, he grabbed the vial and jumped into the Floo.

"Draco? Draco? Are you here?" Harry called out as he stepped out of the fireplace and into the Manor.

Mipsy Apparated in with a crack. "Oh, Mr. Harry Potter, sir! Mipsy is very sorry, sir, but Master Draco is in his private quarters. Mipsy believes him to be polishing his wand at the moment, but Mipsy shall let him know that Harry Potter is here. It isn't to be taking him very long usually," she nodded. "Unless you is wanting to be helping him with his wand, Mr. Potter, sir?"

"Er, no. I'll just wait. Thank you, Mipsy."

"No need to wait, I'm right here," Draco said, entering the room. "You may go, Mipsy, but thanks ever so for entertaining Harry." He rolled his eyes at her.

She smiled brightly as she Apparated away, chattering all the while.

"I suppose you'll be wanting to use the Pensieve?" Draco asked, leading the way to its storage space after Harry nodded. When they readied it, Harry pulled the vial from his pocket.

Draco cleared his throat and turned to go. "I'll just let you watch then. We can talk later."

"Wait," Harry said, reaching for his arm. "No. Don't go."

"Don't you want to, ah, watch?" Draco asked.

"Oh, I definitely do," he said. "But I want you to watch with me."

Draco hesitated, biting his lip as Harry poured out the contents of the vial.

"Ready?" Harry asked.

Draco swallowed audibly. "All right," he said, as Harry pulled him into the Pensieve to watch.

It took Harry only a moment to recognize Draco's memory. It was bright and new, having only occurred the day before, and, after all, Harry'd been listening from the other side of the door...

Water ran down Draco's face as he opened his mouth to the spray, running his fingers through his hair as he rinsed it free of suds. Taking the soap in his hands, he ran it over his body, washing himself free of the sweat and dirt that had accumulated from playing Quidditch with Harry.

He imagined Harry clinging to his broomstick as he whipped through the air, his thighs tense around it and his expression serious as he sought out the Snitch. He was sweaty and gorgeous, and Draco imagined what it would be like to have those thighs gripping him just as mercilessly.

Draco used the soap to wash his prick, semi hard already from thoughts of Harry. He couldn't help it, he had to wank if he wanted to stay in control around Harry the rest of the day, or so he told himself. He ran his hand over his cock, slicked with water and soap, as he tilted his head back into the spray and gave in to Harry's memory of them together.

Kissing in the foyer. Touching for the first time, the heat and saltiness. The desperation and madness of it. How Harry fucked him, watching as first his fingers, then his prick entered Draco, pressing into the fierce heat of him.

Harry's mind swam as he watched the scene unfold before him. Half of him couldn't help but contemplate all that this memory could mean for them, while the other half of him couldn't stop watching as the water poured over Draco's long, lean body, his skin glistening in the spray. Harry wanted him so badly it physically hurt. If only he could just reach out and touch—

Harry yelped as Draco suddenly pulled him from the Pensieve.

"What? Why'd you?" Harry asked, confused. "Draco?"

They were both breathing heavily.

"Harry," Draco said, his voice strained. "I can't watch any more. I can't. I need you. I need you." He pushed the Pensieve away and crawled over to Harry, kneeling before him, resting his hands on Harry's shoulders and placing his forehead against Harry's own.

Harry gasped, threading his fingers through Draco's hair. He was beautiful. "Gods, I need you too, Draco. So badly."

Pulling Harry up to his knees as well, and then tightly against him, he murmured "Kiss me," his mouth ghosting over Harry's.

Harry removed the last of the distance between them, and when their lips finally met, it took Harry's breath away. Draco's lips were soft and his mouth was warm, and Harry never wanted to let go.

Draco slid his hands to Harry's shoulders and pushed him back, gently lowering him to the plush carpet and falling on top of him, covering Harry's body with his own. Harry groaned as Malfoy rocked his hips forward and traced the line of Harry's jaw with his lips.

"Make a new memory with me?" Harry breathed.

Draco arched an eyebrow.

Harry grinned and curled his fingers through Draco's hair, pulling Malfoy towards him for another kiss and laughing when Draco failed to keep a straight face.

Harry reclaimed Draco's mouth then and their smiles turned to soft moans as they tasted each other's lips. Harry swiped his tongue against the back of Draco's teeth, shivering when Malfoy raised his shirt and rubbed his hand over Harry's nipple.

Arching to pull his shirt over his head, Harry moaned as Draco explored the newly exposed skin along his throat, his collarbone, his chest, writhing as Malfoy eventually closed his mouth over his nipple. Settling between his parted legs, Draco pulled his own jumper over his head and then continued licking and sucking as he moved down Harry's torso, placing open mouthed kisses along the lines of his abdomen, pausing only to undo his zip and urge Harry's trousers down. Malfoy continued to trace the ridges of Harry's hips, and finally, suck along the skin of his inner thighs. Malfoy mouthed his erection and Harry could feel the hot wet heat through the thin material of his pants.

"Please," Harry groaned as Draco slowly peeled off his pants and tossed them aside as he nuzzled the crease of Harry's thigh. This was new; there were no memories to carry them away now. They'd never kissed or touched with any sort of tenderness, and Harry was lost in the swirl of new emotions.

When Draco licked the underside of his prick, Harry groaned and reached for the blond hair that haunted his dreams, carding his fingers through it, knowing that Malfoy'd hate it being mussed but not caring in the least. Draco sucked the head of his cock into his mouth, and Harry fisted his hair tighter as he cried out.

Draco bobbed up and down and licked along the length of him, and Harry cursed, and pulled Malfoy's head from his prick. "Not yet, I don't want to...not yet. Okay?"

Draco nodded and slithered his way back up along Harry's body until Harry felt his lips once again against his own. The weight of Draco made it real, Harry thought. It wasn't a dream or a memory. It was him and Draco, and it was real.

Harry reached down and palmed Malfoy's cock through the coarse material of his trousers.

"I want to taste you," Harry breathed, rolling Draco over until he was beneath him. "I want to taste you, and then I want to fuck you."

"Gods, yes," Draco moaned, pulling Harry's arse towards him, so they could rock against each other.

Harry paused to unbutton Draco's trousers, urging him to raise his hips so he could remove his remaining clothing, and then wrapped his hand around Malfoy's cock.

Memories were great, he decided, but actually feeling Draco's heat and hardness in his hand was exponentially better. As Harry stroked him lightly, he saw Malfoy's grey eyes darken with need, and Harry could resist no longer; he ran the flat of his tongue over the head of Draco's prick, moaning at the burst of sharp flavour before he took the length of him deep in his mouth, sucking as he pulled back again. Malfoy grunted and panted below him as Harry licked along the sensitive flesh and buried his nose in the blond curls.

Releasing Draco, Harry sucked his finger in his mouth, moistening it.

"Harry," Draco gasped. "I swear on the name of Salazar Slytherin, if you stop I'll hex your arse so—ungh."

Draco's threat was forgotten as Harry pressed his finger and found the puckered skin of Draco's arse. He slipped it in slowly while he ran the flat of his other palm over Draco's cock and balls, before finally leaning in and kissing the tip of his cock.

Removing his finger, Harry looked up innocently. "You were saying?"

"Fuck, just put your fingers in me, will you?"

Harry chucked and summoned the oil as he nibbled at the skin on Draco's hip before grabbing the jar as it flew towards him. "I'll do better than that," he said, sliding a slicked finger, then two, into Draco, twisting them.

As he pressed his fingers into Draco again, his mind flashed to a memory, Draco's memory, of the last time they did this, angry and heated and intense, and suddenly Harry remembered how Malfoy'd felt as Harry fingered him. Harry curled his finger and Draco's breath came in sharp, short gasps. Harry smiled, knowing from the memory just how much Malfoy had liked that. The memories had given him that.

Harry dropped his forehead to rest on Draco's thigh and closed his eyes while he slowly moved his fingers in Draco's arse. Merlin, it was twice as intense, knowing how it felt from both sides. To touch and kiss and fuck and hold, all the while knowing how Draco felt as he did each of those things.

"Fuck," he whispered, his voice strangled.

"I know," Draco breathed. "I know."

And he did. Draco knew how he felt as Harry fingered him, and also how Harry felt doing it; how both then and now Harry couldn't stop staring at the ring of pink flesh that stretched under his touch.

Draco reached down and grabbed Harry's shoulder, grounding him. "Harry, I need you to fuck me now."

Harry nodded, and knelt between his legs, bending them up and apart so he could see the hole, slicking his cock and pressing the head to Draco's flesh and slowly entering him until they were as close as they could possibly be.

Draco gasped and Harry knew the burn Malfoy felt, but also the exquisite fullness of it. He bent to kiss Draco, wrapping his arms around him and pulling him tight to his own chest. Malfoy arched into the kiss with a whimper as he moved slightly over Harry's cock. The sound made Harry's hips jerk involuntarily and they both hissed in response.

Harry began to move slowly, intentionally, though the heat and agonizing tightness made him nearly insane with desire. He slid his hands over Draco's flushed damp skin, until he eventually returned to his knees and raised Malfoy's legs to fuck him even more deeply.

No secrets. No lies. All was laid bare between them and Harry gave Draco everything he had. He clasped Draco's hand in his as he poured every emotion into the thrust of his hips.

"Draco," he choked out. "I need..."

Draco wrapped a leg around Harry's hip and grasped at his sweat-slicked skin to pull him closer, deeper. His fingernails scraped down Harry back, certainly marking him. Harry bent down to lave the scars he'd left on Malfoy's chest long ago.

Drawing in a ragged breath, Malfoy fisted Harry's hair, pulling his head up so their lips aligned. "Please, Harry." Draco brushed his lips up against Harry's, lightly, barely touching them.

Harry licked at his bottom lip before kissing him desperately.

He knew then that he'd been wrong all those years ago. Kissing was more than he ever imagined it to be. Or, at least, kissing Draco was.

"Please, Harry," Draco breathed. "Fuck me."

Harry pressed him into the floor and gripped his hips as he began to fuck Draco quickly. Malfoy grunted in response and Harry watched greedily as Draco reached down and took himself in his hand, stroking his prick as Harry slid in and out of him. He swiped some of the wetness from Malfoy's cock with his finger, sucking it into his mouth as Draco watched through hooded lids.

When Harry bent down to kiss him again, Draco tensed and came, crying out Harry's name against his mouth as he tensed and jerked. Harry slowed his pace and held Malfoy as he came apart in his arms, kissing his throat, his eyelids, his chest before finally reaching for Draco's cock and stroking it, milking the last drops from the tip before tracing his fingers through the thick whiteness that had coated their bellies and bringing the salty bitterness to his tongue.

As the tension left Draco's body, Harry kissed him and then began fucking him in earnest once again, adopting a rhythm that quickly brought him to the edge of his own release. Shuddering, Harry slid as deeply as he could into Draco and let his orgasm wash over him, spilling into the tight heat before finally falling back down against Malfoy and allowing their mouths to meet once more.

He rolled off Draco then, lying on his side to face him. Harry felt Draco's breath dancing across his lips and he smiled, content. Draco returned his own soft smile.

Harry threaded his fingers through Draco's.

"I don't wanna have to remember the past to feel your arms around me," Harry said softly. "And I don't want to have to turn to a memory just to know what it's like to kiss you."

Draco cupped Harry's face in his palms. "Yes, Harry, I understand. You'd rather not use a vial when you could be fucking my arse. Now, please. Less talking, more kissing."

Harry snorted. "That's not exactly what I—"

"Kissing, Potter."

"But I just—"

Draco rolled his eyes and pulled Harry tightly into his arms. "Potter. Kisses."

When Harry opened his mouth to protest again, Draco cut him off with a lingering kiss that erased every other thought from his mind.

Harry's heart soared.

And it was better than any memory.

 

Comments

[appleling.livejournal.com]

*fans self* Wow, I didn't even know it's possible but reading it for the second time definitely makes this fic a hell lot hotter than the first time I read this! I bookmarked this fic, because I suspect I'll definitely want to come back and read it again! For the third time and then... mooaaaarrr!

[icmezzo.livejournal.com]

Ha! Thank you! I'm so glad you enjoyed it even more the second go around. Sweet!!! *dances*

[thrnbrooke.livejournal.com]

That was fantastic!!!! I couldn't stop reading!!!!

[icmezzo.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I'm delighted that you enjoyed it. :)

[lijahlover.livejournal.com]

This was such a gorgeously detailed and perfect story. I was delighted with every brilliant part.

I remember this being posted with the fest going on, but the length kept me putting of reading it.

I decided to go ahead and I am so happy I did, the imagery was done so well I felt like I was in the room with them.

Thanks for sharing this with us envy_venis was very lucky to get this as a gift :)

[icmezzo.livejournal.com]

Oh, thank you so much for the kind words, and I'm so glad you were able to take the time to read it now, if not during the fest. I know it was a bit long, but I'm glad you found it worth the time in the end.

Thanks for reading! <3

[lijahlover.livejournal.com]

I found it hard to keep up with the m-preg and smooch fest both going. That is why I like it when it is over and people start posting their stories later.

[icmezzo.livejournal.com]

Agreed. I was trying to keep with both and I fell behind myself. Oh well, lots of new fic is hardly a bad thing! :)

[lijahlover.livejournal.com]

Oh no it is a great thing :)))))))

[birdsofshore]

*melts from the hotness*
This was FANTASTIC, I adored it. I am so glad you reposted it as I missed it during Smoochfest. I think the title and summary made me think it was going to be more serious or angsty than it was, but when I saw it reposted on your journal I wanted to read it straight away.

The whole premise was so clever and effective. I loved Harry trying to be honourable but finding himself unable to resist looking at the memories. And the pathos of Draco's unhappy memories was beautifully done.

Oh and the CLOWNS! HAHAHA! Clowns deserve no less than torment. And "Master is having relations with Harry Potter, sir!" *dies happy*

[icmezzo.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much for taking the time to read, and I'm glad you enjoyed it. I never meant to make it sound like an angst fest, but I'm afraid it was a common reaction to my summary. Must improve my synopsis writing for future fics, I suppose!

LOL. Yes, those poor Muggle clowns. As you can imagine, both the clowns and the Mipsy moments were good fun to write.

Thank you for the lovely comments! xoxo

[icmezzo.livejournal.com]

Thank you for the kind comments. I'm so glad you enjoyed.

In terms of other stories, I have a few others in this fandom (I arrived here by way of another). I really just started writing HP this year, so there's only 3 so far, but definitely more to come. Some in the works already. Harry and Draco have stolen my heart entirely!

Thanks so much for reading. <3

[avioleta.livejournal.com]

I read this -- I did! And I loved every bit of it. Between back to school and BB and SBS and now the rec letter extravaganza of 2012, I've hardly had time to drink wine, much less pay attention to the important things in life (i.e. fic). A travesty, that. But I've been meaning to comment on your fic for ages b/c it was so lovely but haven't felt that I've time to do it right. Draco/Harry is not my preferred pairing, but I understand why it is so appealing when reading pieces like this.

To begin with, your premise was perfect. Both the decline of Malfoy Manor due to post war prejudice and hate and the botched Obliviate (so Malfoy) were plausible and perfect starting points. So often I feel that I read the same HP plots again and again, regardless of pairing. But you've managed to incorporate magic here that is both unexpected, appropriate, and so entirely believable in the situation you've created.

Then, your characters are spot on. Always. No matter what you write, you've got such a deft hand at developing character skillfully, adeptly, and seemingly effortlessly! Here, you reveal both Harry and Draco (opposites, surely but perfectly suited for each other regardless) indirectly though pitch-perfect dialog and character interaction. I love how Harry is so Harry. He is so often presented as the bumbling hero who inexplicably loves Draco in spite of everything. Here he is...well...perfectly Harry. I love how he doesn't once consider Draco's feelings when their memories are switched. Everything surrounds his own issues, which, really is Harry to a T. Yet, still, he demonstrates that laudable Gryffindor integrity b/c heaven forbid he infringe upon the privacy of someone he can't help but infringe upon.

And your humor! I always love your humor. But in a story like this where things could quickly become angsty and horridly serious, you manage to use humor (that is appropriate for each character's personality) to keep things from digressing into something too heavy.

There were so many details I loved about this story. It took me far too long to read, but once I did find the time (after having it open in my phone for days and days and days), I read it straight through.

You did a beautiful job. I know how difficult and stressful it can be to venture into a new fandom -- with characters you love but worry you won't be able to do justice to. You, my dear, have done brilliantly. Drarry is lucky to have you. But you know that!

Wonderful. I look forward to anything and everything else you choose to write.

*hugs you*

[icmezzo.livejournal.com]

You are way too generous, but I've already read your kind words more than once. Thank you, dear friend, for your support and for reading, even though you are busy and don't even necessarily love the Drarry ship. (Friends read weird pairings for friends! :P )

Again, thank you, and I'm glad it read as honest and true to character, and yes, God forbid I attempt to write something without humor. The world would surely end. That and I'd be horribly bored. :)

To more ever more Snarry and Drarry and tales that need telling,
-ICM <3

[avioleta.livejournal.com]

To more Snarry/Drarry writing!
It was such a lovely fic. I'm only sorry it took me so long to get to.