A/n: Been in a bit of a writing slump lately since I found out my cat got put down and no one thought that would be a good thing to let me know about until a week later because "we thought you knew," as if I have physic powers and can read minds. (Which, mind you, would be super cool). Then I went on a school trip and got nothing done, and now I'm binge-watching the entire fourth season of Stranger Things so there has been absolutely no progress on the story in the last few days. Now I have to study for my first ever exam so I am BUSY. Updates might slow down a little for the next while. Anyways, I hope you enjoy the chapter!
Harry was sitting on the red armchair, a brown quilt draped over the back of it just like Draco had been draped over his own chair at first when he plopped down into it. The quilt appeared rough and Draco could see the tufts of fabric emanating off of it as if someone had pulled out different parts of it at random.
He thought it added something inexplicably homey to the room, even though the decorum of it didn't match it much at all—except for the fact that it had a bit of yellow in it which resembled the crackling fireplace to the right of both of them.
He sat up in his chair slightly when Harry started talking.
"I kind of forget where I left off last time," he chuckled softly—awkwardly.
Draco thought back to the last time they were in there and he too sat up in his chair, since he knew that if he laid back down then he would be even more tempted to fall asleep.
They both sat silently, thinking.
"Oh! I remember now. I was talking about how I survived the killing curse when I was one."
Draco blinked and thought that if anyone else heard that sentence they would have had a spontaneous heart attack.
"Yes," he drawled. "I think I remember that little part of the story." As if it hadn't haunted my thoughts for the few days preceding that meeting.
Harry smiled and sat cross-legged to begin his story again.
"So, Voldemort, the bad guy—" Draco rolled his eyes— "shot the curse at me, but it rebounded."
"How?" Draco couldn't help but cut in.
"My—" Harry said, voice on the edge of breaking. "My mother's love protected me. So," he laughed humorously, "I guess I didn't really survive the killing curse at all. My mom took the fall instead."
"I'm sorry," Draco said earnestly, with sadness hinted at in the corner of his tone.
"It's too late now. She's already gone."
He took a deep breath.
"Anyway, I lived, yada yada yada....boring details here, boring details there and here I am."
Draco blinked harshly in the low light of the room.
"Um."
Potter laughed. "I know. I'm a great storyteller if you can tell."
"Clearly," Draco muttered with a small smirk that threatened to peek out.
"I mean, there is some more stuff in between that, obviously. Like, for example, the Dark Lord was said to be defeated but then he appeared on the back of my professor's head in first year and I had to fight him. And then the thing in second year...Ya, that's a whole other tale."
Draco's brain momentarily short-circuited.
"He...What?"
"Yep. head all misshapen and gnarly and everything."
Draco had a hard time understanding what was happening.
"You...you mean to tell me the man who killed your parents is still alive?" He half-whispered. "And stuck on the back of a professor's head? Where is this professor now?!"
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Please Be There If I Remember
Fanfiction"Mr. Malfoy, where are you going? You just woke up from a great fall after all, I'm sure your friends can come here, instead of you going to them." Who was Malfoy? Oh right, it was probably him. A little bit late, he realised that he should have tol...
