Diffraction Patterns (I Don't Know How to Forget You)

Chapter 4: Collapse

"Right. But you felt panicked?"

"Yeah. Just...really unwell."

"I'll ask Hermione again," Harry said, a doubtful look on his face. "We can skip tonight, if you want. Give you a break."

"We're almost done." Draco nodded towards his arm. "I'll be fine. Go on."

He hardly flinched at the cold press of Harry's wand on his skin. "Ready?" he asked. Draco nodded. Harry took a deep breath, as though steeling himself, and then said, "Three...two...one..."

He was back in the cellar with Ollivander. There came another crash from upstairs. Draco crouched down and shook his shoulder. "Please, wake up," he said, his voice cracking. "Please."

By some miracle, Ollivander stirred.

"We have to go upstairs," Draco said. "Please. He's angry."

The elderly man shook his head, groaning. "Thirsty."

"Right. Right." Even as he heard his aunt shrieking for him upstairs, Draco conjured a little goblet and filled it with water. He held it up to Ollivander's lips, nearly missing in the dark. He drank greedily, spilling half of it down his front.

"Easy," Draco muttered. "Easy."

They both reacted as they heard the Dark Lord's voice. Ollivander choked on his water while Draco's breath caught in his throat. "He just wants to ask about the wands," Draco said weakly. "That's all, and then I'll bring you back here...and then I'll bring you something, something to eat..."

He gripped Ollivander's arm, which had become so thin that he feared it might snap beneath his fingers. "Up, come on, get up, please..."

Draco eased out of the memory as though awakening from a dream. Ollivander's dirty, broken face disappeared as he blinked up at the sky.

"It was the same memory," he said. He flexed his fingers—he swore he could still feel the touch of Ollivander's frail arm. "Wasn't it?"

Harry was silent for a moment as he twisted his wand into Draco's Mark, muttering. The pain pinched at him, but it wasn't unbearable. Finally, he pulled his wand away and replaced it with his warm, gentle fingers. "Yeah, it was," he said. "The one we didn't erase before."

"I thought so."

"How do you feel?"

"Not bad," he said truthfully. "Maybe it's easier, when you've already seen the memory before."

"Maybe." Harry was tracing little figures on his arm. "You got through it this time. I'm glad."

"So am I."

Harry shifted, and his leg came to rest against Draco's. "Check your Mark. Does it look any different?"

Reluctantly, Draco pulled his arm away and held it a few inches from his face. "Not really."

"Next time, it'll change. Don't worry."

Draco thought it would be terribly presumptuous to place his arm back on Harry's lap, and so he brought his hands to rest on his stomach instead. Summoning his courage, he said quietly, "Let's go again. Another one."

"What?" Harry said, surprised. "You can't be serious."

"I can do it. I feel fine."

"Draco, no."

"But we already saw that one! And my Mark looks the same. It didn't bother me, I swear."

Harry's apprehension was written all over his face. In a soft voice, he murmured, "I don't want to hurt you."