The DADA classroom was empty as Harry's classes had been cancelled. Draco took him there to teach him some simple spells.

"Okay, simple stuff. Now, don't try too hard, all right. You won't need to. You're pretty powerful."

"Am I? I guess that's good to know."

"Yeah. So let's try Lumos! That will give you light."

"Oh Latin. I get it." Harry fisted his wand like a child might and said, "Lumos!"

The wand tip burst with light, startling him. "Hey, pretty neat."

"Isn't it? Have a clue how to snuff it out?"

"Snuffious?"

"That's not even a word, you git. If you remember Latin, then think of something."

"But I don't really know Latin, do I?" He considered. "If lumos is light, then maybe…nox?"

The wand light vanished.

"Wow. I guess I do know Latin."

"Pretty good, Harry. But it isn't always so simple. Now watch me move my wand." Draco stepped toward the desk and aimed at a parchment lying there. "Wingardium leviosa."

The parchment rose slowly into the air and hovered.

Wide-eyed like any Muggle, Harry stared and smiled. "Let me try," he said eagerly.

Draco lowered the parchment and stepped back. "Easy now," said Draco. "Just swish and flick the wand smoothly, gently."

Harry made the incantation and the parchment rose the first time. "Hey, this is easy."

Easy. Ten years worth of magic to be relearned. How easy was that going to be, Draco wondered.

After an hour of Harry picking up about thirty new spells, Draco called a halt. "Do you remember everything you learned, Harry?"

"Yes. Aren't I supposed to?"

"Yes, I just hoped you wouldn't forget it again." So he could relearn without losing it. That was a mercy.

They both sat in silence, Harry twirling his wand and Draco just staring at the floor. "By the way," said Harry suddenly, "What's your surname? I didn't catch it before."

"Malfoy."

"Draco Malfoy." Harry tried out the syllables, whispered the name a few times almost in fear that he might forget them, and then nodded to himself.

"I don't suppose that sounds familiar to you?"

"Nope." Harry went back to twirling his wand. "So I teach, do I?"

"Yes, but…understand that you won't be able to teach again until you relearn what you've forgotten."

"Oh yes. That makes sense, of course. I hope I haven't put anyone out too much. I can't help but feel that this is my fault somehow."

"Don't feel like that, Harry. It isn't."

He shrugged. "So what about you? Do you teach?"

"Yes. I teach Potions."

"No kidding? That sounds really interesting. You're good at it… Stupid question, of course you would be. I take it you're a powerful wizard."

"Uh huh. And so are you. The most powerful wizard, as a matter of fact."

"Me? That can't be right. I don't feel particularly powerful."

"Well you are."

"Hey Draco. You don't suppose that's why this happened to me, do you? Someone trying to take out the most powerful wizard, take away his magic?"

"It has occurred to me."

Harry stared thoughtfully into space when he suddenly sat up. Draco turned to look and saw Serenity Hudson standing in the doorway.

"Oh! Har-Professor Potter! Everyone said you were sick. I hoped you were all right."

He looked at Draco. "Serenity Hudson," Draco prompted quietly.

"Well, Miss Hudson, I guess I've been out of sorts. My classes are going to be cancelled until further notice, I'm afraid."

"That's too bad. I wondered why-" She shot a glance at Draco and another meaningful glance at Harry. Curious at the interplay, Draco stood.

"Is there something you wanted, Miss Hudson?"

"Well…I was wondering if I could talk to Professor Potter alone, sir."

"Professor Potter isn't up to it." He stood his ground, looking as intimidating as he could.

It worked. "Oh well, then. I hope you're feeling better soon, Professor. I'll…be going now."

"Thanks, Miss Hudson," said Harry. "See you later."

"She's certainly dropping by an awful lot," said Draco with a scowl.

"Worried about this, probably." Harry lifted the parchment with her application.

"Oh, I see."

"So I'm really hot stuff, eh?"

Draco pulled up short. What? He looked at Harry. Oh. He was referring to his wizard's status. "Er…you are very famous, actually."

"I'm a little young to be famous. What am I famous for?"

"Killing the most evil wizard to come along in a hundred years."

Harry closed his mouth, smile fading. "Oh," was all he said. After a pause, "I don't suppose you were kidding about that."

"No."

"Oh." His brows rose. "Wow. No wonder everyone wants to help me. I wish…I could help, too."

"Just get better, okay?"

"I'll…try."

Draco didn't like the confusion on Harry's face. He almost liked it better when Harry wasn't concerned. Now he was looking a bit guilty. "It must be time for lunch. Let's go to the Great Hall and get something."

Harry said nothing but followed Draco docily down to the bottom floor. When they entered through the staff room, the students in the hall quieted. The teachers looked up with concern on their faces.

"Aw'right there, Harry?" said Hagrid.

Harry looked up surprised at the large man and tried to smile congenially. He almost tripped over Flitwick since he was still looking up, and he mumbled a "beg pardon" to him, trying not to stare. Draco sat him down next to him, and named off the teachers quietly to Harry. The two kept to themselves and ate silently, Harry asking a question or two as they came to his mind. When they'd eaten their fill, they returned to the DADA classroom and found Ron and Hermione waiting for them.

"How are you doing, Harry?" asked Ron.

"Everyone keeps asking me that," said Harry, a little edgy. "I don't know how to answer it."

"Sorry," said Ron. "It's just that people care, you know."

"I know. I'm sorry, Ron. I just…It's getting a bit frustrating. Before, I was fine, and now I'm beginning to feel like I'm missing something really important. And it's not fair. I want to teach my classes, but I don't remember what I'm supposed to teach and I don't even remember any of my students. It isn't very fair to them either, is it?"

"Don't get upset, Harry."

"What do you mean? Of course I'm upset! I don't even remember you two, and you seem like you're really important to me. How do you suppose that makes me feel seeing how you don't even know how to act with me? And Draco here. He's been patient all day, and I know there's something he's holding back from me. I…I don't like this. I want…I want it to go back to the way it was."

"And we will do that, Harry," Hermione cut in. "But it may take time. I've been researching memory curses, and they can be pretty tricky things. We might be able to try a few experiments with a Pensieve to see if Harry's memories are really gone or only suppressed. But we still need to discover what happened in the first place to affect a real recovery."

"Is there any way I can help?" asked Harry anxiously.

She looked at him sadly. "I don't see how when you can't remember."

* * *

The three tossed ideas back and forth and Harry merely watched them. They bent their heads together in earnest discussion when Draco mentioned someone named Voldemort. Mention of that name seemed to cause undue concern on everyone's faces and Harry knew he immediately didn't like that person, whoever he was.

He glanced from one face to another, but always, his gaze seemed to travel back to Draco. Draco had an interesting face. He was handsome. He supposed that was obvious to anyone. He liked his eyes, how light they were, like a cloudy sky but how suddenly dark they could get when he was angry…and he got angry on a fairly regular basis. He could feel Draco's magic and wondered if that was part of his being this great wizard and all, though he couldn't seem to feel the magic of others. Maybe Draco was pretty powerful himself and that was why his magic seemed to flow outward toward Harry, almost as if it were sitting very close in his chest. He also liked the way Draco's hair fell in a fringe over his eyes. One might consider it sexy, if one…well, liked men.

He stole a glance at Hermione. She was nice-looking in her way. She had a lot of hair, he noticed, and she seemed pretty smart and pretty much in control. He liked that about her. He supposed she was attractive. But with that thought his eyes traveled back toward Draco. Draco was pretty attractive. That was odd. Was Harry one of those blokes who preferred men? It seemed to be tipping that way. He didn't want to think about that. Didn't he have enough problems right now?

He looked down at his hands, thumbing the ring on his left hand. Ring? He examined it. A gold ring, with what looked like the Slytherin snake attacking the Gryffindor lion. No wait. It wasn't attacking the lion. It was only wrapped around it. Embracing it? Some sort of club ring?

"What do you think, Harry?" asked Hermione.

He snapped his head up. "Sorry? I wasn't listening."

She looked at the other men. "You know, it's late. Maybe we should be turning in. Minerva gave us guest quarters here, so we'll see you two in the morning."

"I have classes," said Draco.

"What about Harry's classes?" asked Hermione. "He may have to cancel them for a long time."

"I'll take them," said Ron.

Hermione and Draco stared at him.

"What? I can teach a Defense class. I learned a lot of things, too, you know, when we were looking for the Horcruxes. And at the Ministry, as well."

"We'll talk to McGonagall before turning in," said Hermione, "and see what she says. I'm sure she'll be grateful for the help." That last bit seemed to reassure a ruffled Ron.

Draco walked with them to the door and Hermione turned to Draco with a meaningful glance at Harry. "Isn't there something you have to tell Harry?" she whispered harshly, but Harry heard anyway.

"Thanks, Hermione," he said with gritted teeth. His shoulders stiffened as he walked back up the DADA stairs. "Come on, Harry."

Harry followed through the interesting study full of odd objects and numerous books on the subjects of spells, blocks, and hexes. A painting of dueling wizards slid aside when Draco said out loud, "Gryffindors rule!" revealing the cozy apartments that Harry understood to be his.

Draco stood undecided in the middle of the room as Harry settled down on the settee. He looked up at Draco expectantly.

He moved to sit beside Harry but then thought better of it and sat in the wingchair. "Um…I don't quite know how to say this."

"We're friends, aren't we? You can tell me."

"We're a little more than friends."

"We must be flatmates. There's an awful lot of clothes and stuff in here. Two tooth brushes. I'm pretty sure I don't need two. Except…" Harry looked around for a second bed.

Uh oh.

Draco watched Harry as it began to dawn on his face. "You mean…we're…more than flatmates, then?"

"Yes," Draco said, softly. "Actually…" He toyed with a ring on his finger, turning it in his fingers. It flashed gold in the hearth light. It looked familiar. Harry got a sinking feeling in his chest. "To tell you the truth…um…we're…married."

"Married. To whom?"

"To…each other."

It took another moment before Harry's stomach dropped. "I'm married…to you?"

"Yeah." Draco turned away and headed for the little sink alcove. He dropped to a shelf below and brought out a bottle. It looked alcoholic. Harry thought that was a good idea.

"So…so you mean I'm…I'm…"

Draco poured two glasses of something caramel-coloured and handed one crystal tumbler to Harry. "Gay."

"Right." Harry took the glass and knocked it back. Whatever it was burned on its way down but once it made it to his stomach it started to worm its way immediately into his veins and spread throughout his system. He sank down to the settee again and held the glass in both hands. Shyly he looked up at Draco. He was still standing near the wingchair. He looked like he didn't know where he was supposed to go. "So…I'm presuming I'm in love with you and you're…in love with me? Right?"

Draco didn't look at Harry. His eyes were shining as he nodded.

"When…when were we married?"

"Four weeks ago."

Harry jumped to his feet. "Four weeks!" Oh no. This was horrible! Draco tried to control his face but he was obviously losing the battle. Without thinking Harry rushed him and took him in his arms. He held Draco, who seemed stiff and unresponsive…for a moment. Finally, he melted into Harry's embrace as if he hadn't been there in a very long time. Harry whispered to his neck. It was a nice-smelling neck. "I'm so sorry."

"Can't be helped," he croaked and then pushed Harry back. He drained the liquor in his glass and leaned against the chair.

Harry tried to remember, tried very hard. He knew the feelings must be there somewhere. How could they just disappear like that? He wanted to kill whoever was responsible; whoever made Draco wear that face of utter defeat. He was certain Draco was a great guy. Why else would he have married him? Harry took another swallow of the liquor and then set it down. He was suddenly very tired. But when he looked at the one bed, he felt weak in the knees.

Draco understood the dilemma. "I'll go back to my old rooms. You needn't worry."

"No, that's not fair to you. You live here, too."

"I don't have any right to do that right now."

"No, Draco. Look, you take the bed and I'll sleep on the settee."

"No, Harry. These were your rooms to begin with. I'm the one intruding."

"I refuse to kick you out."

"You won't have to. I'll go."

"Draco, you're not leaving."

"Well…we can't-" He dropped his gesturing hand to his thigh. He looked at the bed with a forlorn expression. "You take the bed. I'll conjure another one for me."

"Are…are you sure? It's a big bed. I…I w-wouldn't mind…" But there was enough strain in his voice to belie that. Draco wasn't stupid. He raised his wand and another smaller bed appeared in the far corner under the window.

"You're such a Gryffindor," he said under his breath, and began to take off his shirt.

Harry wandered toward the wardrobe and opened a drawer. He pawed a few things, none of which looked familiar. "Do I have…pajamas?"

"No," said Draco, sitting on his conjured bed to remove his shoes.

Harry licked his lips. "I see."

"I'm going to sleep in my shorts. I suggest you do the same."

"Right. Good idea." He headed toward the bathroom and stopped in the doorway. "Um…which toothbrush is mine?"

Draco had a pained looked on his face and Harry cringed. Yes, he couldn't even remember which toothbrush was his, let alone his love for this man; this very handsome and patient man. Well, he guessed he was gay. Else why would the thought of Draco in the big bed with him give him a reaction in his trousers?

After Harry finished his evening ablutions, he crept over to the big four-poster. Draco was already in his conjured bed and he had extinguished the candles. Harry saw his features lit by moonlight filtering in from the diamond window panes. His eyes glittered and his blond fringe looked blue in the faint light. Harry looked away and pulled the covers back, stripped off his dressing gown, and slipped under the covers. "G-goodnight, Draco."

"Goodnight, Harry. I lo-" He sighed. "Good night."

Harry hunkered down under the blankets and turned his head into the pillow. It smelled like Draco. He never felt so low in his life. At least, he didn't think so. When he moved he inhaled the other odors from the bed. The sheets smelled vaguely like sex and sweat and he wondered if the last time they…well, did it, was right before he lost his memory. He wished he could remember! He lay awake looking at the ceiling and wondered what kind of kisser Draco was. Then he wondered what kind of kisser he himself was. He wondered a lot of things, inhaling the various aromas from the sheets and wondered, mostly, if he'd ever remember. He thought he would at least like to remember about Draco. He owed him that. And the more he thought of the man breathing but certainly not sleeping in the dark corner, he thought he should very much like to know what brought them together and under what circumstances they fell in love. Two teachers. Two young wizards. One of them (Harry) very powerful, killer of a great evil. Was it that which brought them together? He thumbed the ring on his finger. Since Harry was the Gryffindor he guessed that Draco was the Slytherin. A strange match. It must have been an exceptional love, and he desperately wanted to know.

In the morning after very little sleep, they both rose from their beds. Draco looked over at Harry and smiled weakly. "Do you mind if I bathe first. I've got classes this morning."

"Not at all," said Harry, retrieving his glasses. He stayed in bed, trying not to watch Draco, bare-chested, walk to the bathroom. At least Harry had good taste in men, even if he couldn't remember sex with them. At all. He felt foolish and coy. Great. A virgin all over again, he thought.

Just how patient was Draco going to be?

He liked Draco but he certainly wasn't in love with him. And that was horrible because only two days ago he knew he must have been.

The only thing he vaguely remembered was that turbaned chap and he had the feeling it had something to do with that Voldemort they mentioned last night. He concentrated and tried very hard to remember anything at all. A dark chamber. Fire. A mirror. The turbaned man and…another face. Something about another face. But that was all. He couldn't remember what was said and what happened. Was it something recent or a long time ago? He tried to get the images straight in his mind so he could tell Draco.

After a long time, Draco emerged from the bath in his dressing gown. Harry tried not to think of the fact that he probably wasn't wearing anything at all underneath it. "I've remembered something, Draco. It's not much, but-" Draco was instantly at his side, sitting on the bed in front of him.

"What? What did you remember?"

Draco smelled very good. It was quite distracting. "That turbaned chap. I remember a dark chamber and fire and a mirror. And something weird about another face. Is this something real or is it a dream?"

"Is that all?"

"Yes, I'm afraid so."

Draco slumped. "Yes, it was real. But it happened a long time ago. About ten years ago."

"Must have been important, though, for me to recall it."

"Yeah. It is important. And it may help. Thanks for telling me, Harry."

Then they both realized where Draco sat and he hastily slipped off the bed.

"I guess I'll take my bath now."

Draco stood before the wardrobe and faced Harry. "Will you be all right today? I won't be able to be with you all day, but Ron and Hermione should probably be here soon. They'll take care of you."

"I'm not an invalid. I've only forgotten things. I still know my way around Hogwarts."

"I'm sorry, I just-"

"You care. I understand. Thanks. But I'll be fine."

Draco nodded. "Yes. You're Harry Potter, after all. You've escaped scrapes and cheated death more than anyone has a right to."

"Then I'll get out of this, too, won't I?"

Draco's expression wore one of hope…for a moment, before it sunk into despair again. A smile tugged at one side of his mouth then stilled.

* * *

Ron and Hermione arrived in time for Ron to excuse himself to run off to teach Harry's classes. That left Hermione alone with him and they considered one another silently.

"Who is Voldemort?" asked Harry suddenly, breaking the silence.

Hermione jumped a little. "I suppose you heard us discussing it last night."

"Hard to avoid."

She firmed her mouth to a grim line. "Well! I think we'll need to sit down for this. It's a long story."

She started with that faint scar on Harry's forehead. She told him it never used to be so faint and explained how he got it; about his parents (so that's who James is, he mulled); about the Death Eaters and Voldemort's reign of terror, the war, and Harry's part in all of it, since first year through the day he slew him.

Harry just sat, numb and disbelieving. It was like some fairy tale. These kinds of things didn't happen in real life, did they? He was glad he didn't remember most of it. It all sounded horrible. How had he withstood it? All the deaths, all the horrors, the fears. And he was only a kid at the time. What a bastard this Voldemort was!

"But where does Draco come into it? Weren't we best mates in school, too?"

Hermione hesitated. "I…think I'll let Draco tell you about that."

"Is it something bad?" he asked softly.

She couldn't seem to stop herself from nodding slightly.

"We weren't…friends?"

She wouldn't say.

"Were we…enemies?"

She lowered her eyes.

Harry threw his head back and glared at the ceiling. This was getting more and more complicated. Just who the hell is Harry Potter?

"But we're not enemies now, right? I mean…we're married," he said with a blush. "He told me last night."

She darted a glance at the second bed and reddened. "No, you're not enemies now. You haven't been for several years. He loves you very much. I've never seen you happier."

Harry broke out in a sweat. His palms moistened. "Hermione, I don't remember any of it. I feel so badly for him. I wish I could remember!"

"You will, Harry."

"But what if I never do!"

She sighed. "I should think that depends on you."

"What do you mean?"

"Well, I suppose you'd just have to start again. If you wanted to, that is. Of course you are married to him, and that in itself is very complicated magic."

"I want him to be happy."

She cocked her head and looked at Harry. "You know, I never believed in fate before. Of course, I never knew prophesies could be true, either. But perhaps you are fated to be with Draco. You still seem somehow drawn to him. Maybe your love is so strong in you that it can't be entirely erased."

"Do you think I could fall in love with him again?"

"You can certainly try." She looked at the second bed again. "Are you attracted to him?"

Harry felt his face grow warm. He lowered his eyes. "Yes. He's…pretty hard to ignore."

"Draco isn't a man who likes being ignored. He comes by that honestly, at least."

"Should I…I mean, do you think he'd welcome my…advances?"

"Well like I said. He's very much in love with you. And I know from a few hints here and there that you have a very…um…vigorous…relationship."

Harry's blush deepened. Blimey! This was getting embarrassing. He didn't know if it would be easier knowing Hermione well or thinking of her as a stranger while discussing this.

"I meant whether I should start dating him, not throw him down and shag him!"

It was Hermione's turn to blush a deep red. "Oh."

"I mean, I have to get to know him. I'm sure that in time, I might feel the same way. I hope." Although it is sort of moot, he thought, since he was already married to him. And he had the sense from Hermione's description that such a thing in the Wizarding world was fairly permanent.

"You certainly don't have to leap into anything right away. Not until you're comfortable with it all. Besides, first things first. We have to determine what happened to you and that might help us with the next step. All right?"

"Yeah. First things first." Except he couldn't stop thinking about a half-naked Draco strutting across the room as he had this morning. And the smell of those sheets and what they must have been doing on them. He wanted to know. He really wanted to know.

Much later Hermione kept dropping hints that she wanted to run off to the library to look up a few things and Harry was getting exasperated. "Then go, already. I don't need to be babysat. I want to wander off on my own anyway. I'm feeling a bit stifled in here."

Hermione looked worried. "I don't like leaving you alone. Draco may not like it."

"Bollocks to what Draco wants. I'm my own man, aren't I? And I want to get some fresh air. You go to the library. I promise not to get into any trouble, okay?"

Of course, Harry had no idea what got him into this trouble in the first place. He suddenly wanted to get out more than anything, and all but pushed Hermione toward the door. "Go. I'll be just around the lake."

"Okay. But check in in an hour, okay? Please, Harry?"

"I promise. Now go!"

* * *

Serenity Hudson was a bit confused. Normally, she wasn't confused at all. She considered herself quite a good student, top in most of her classes, and Prefect in Ravenclaw. And she'd always been attracted to Harry Potter. What girl hadn't? He was young, handsome, a hero. Of course, they knew he was gay, helped him and Draco when the Ministry was coming down on them, danced next to them at the now infamous Yule Ball, and even went to their wedding. So it came as no surprise that despite all of this, one should develop a crush on him. Except that this was no crush. This was passion. Fully-fledged, deeply felt, all-encompassing, on-the-verge-of-obsession Love. And Harry felt it, too, or he wouldn't have kissed her that day.

She sighed. But Harry had disappointed her. He was supposed to meet her in Greenhouse Three and he never made it there. She had waited two hours for him and was in quite a state at the end of it. She ran into her best mate Felicia Rosencrantz who stopped her, appalled at her tears, but she couldn't, wouldn't explain and escaped into Ravenlcaw's common room.

Later, of course, she realized that Harry was sick because he'd cancelled all his classes. And when she went to see him, that Professor Malfoy was there standing guard over him. He looked all right. He didn't seem sick. But surely she could get a message to him.

"Serenity! Are you mooning again?"

Serenity turned to Felicia coming up behind her. Felicia just didn't understand something like a Great Love. If she did she wouldn't ask these silly questions. "I'm not mooning. I'm thinking."

"Well there's a lot of sighing involved-hang on! You've got a bloke!"

Serenity couldn't help smiling. "Maybe."

"Girl, tell me! Who is it?"

"I…can't really say. I shouldn't."

"Shouldn't? He's older, then? Got a girlfriend already? Oh come on, Hudson. Give over."

Serenity looked both ways down the corridor, grabbed Felicia's arm, and tugged her into a nearby empty classroom. She got up close to Felicia and smiled into her friend's face. "Actually, he's a teacher."

"What? You're joking. Who? They're all ancient."

"Not all."

Felicia screwed up her face in concentration, clearly going through all the possible combinations…when light dawned. And then her brows lowered. "Wait a moment. Are you saying what I think you're saying? And if so, you are mad. He's gay."

"Well, whatever he is, he is still mad for me. We kissed."

"You didn't! You're a liar, Serenity Hudson!"

"We did. And he lets me call him 'Harry'. In private, that is."

Felicia stared. It wasn't the happily conspiratorial face Serenity was expecting.

"Well, if you don't like it Rosencrantz, you know what you can do about it."

"Yeah. Go tell someone." She whirled around.

Serenity grabbed her. "No you don't. You can't! He'll get into trouble."

"Serenity, I can't begin to tick off what's wrong with all this. He's a teacher, he's gay, he's married…"

"None of that seems to matter."

Felecia looked long and hard at Serenity. It made her a bit nervous. "Serenity, are you all right? You look…flushed."

"It's love. I knew you wouldn't understand. You have to be in love to know what it's like."

Felecia frowned. "You're a nutter, that's what you are."

"But you'll be a good friend and you won't tell, right?"

"Well…" She toed the floor and dug her hands into the pockets of her robes.

Serenity threw her arms around her. "Thanks, Felecia! You really are my best friend!" Over her shoulder she saw Harry out the window, strolling alone by the lake. "Oh! I gotta go! Bye!"

"What about class?" Felecia called after her, but she was already down the stairs.

She ran. She just knew Harry would want to see her and they could be alone. There were plenty of places along the lake where the forest encroached on the shore, enough to afford a secluded spot.

She was nearly there but also out of breath. With her last ounce of air, she called out, "Harry!"

He turned and stopped, surprised to see her. She flung herself into his arms and kissed him soundly on the mouth. He clutched her but didn't return the kiss like he had last time.

She slowly drew away and pouted. "You didn't meet me at the greenhouse like you said you would."

"Oh…s-sorry. I must have forgotten."

She took his hand and swung it between them. She smiled. "I forgive you."

He looked down at their hands clasped together. "Er…Miss Hudson-"

"What happened to calling me 'Serenity'?"

"Look, I'm a little confused here." He peeled his hand from hers. "I'm married, you know. To a man," he whispered. "That most likely means I wouldn't really be interested-that is, with my orientation the way it is, I…Are you sure I was supposed to meet you?"

She planted her fists at her hips. "Harry, if you are having second thoughts, I think you should know, that I am thoroughly and completely in love with you and I have no intentions of giving you up. So you'd better Just. Get. Used. To it." She punctuated each word with a finger to his chest, forcing him backwards until his shoes got wet in the lake.

"How…how long has this been going on?"

"You're so silly! Only since Saturday. Why did we wait so long?" She gathered the material of his robe in her fists and drew up his body, her face close to his. He smelled so good, like something fresh and delicious.

"Saturday? We didn't…I mean, we haven't…you know."

She laughed hysterically. "Are you kidding! You little devil, you! I'm barely sixteen, you know. I know a lot of girls in my year are a bit easy, but not me. This is a Special Love; a Deep Love. Sex just mucks it up, don't you think?"

He looked relieved, which annoyed her a little. She rather hoped he'd plead the other way.

"Look…S-serenity." He pulled her fingers from his robe and backed up again. This time he was standing in a few centimeters of water. "I haven't been feeling well lately. Had to c-cancel classes and all. So I think we should just…cool things down for a bit. Okay?"

She pouted but stepped back. "A Tragic Love. Oh yes!" She took a deep breath. This was truly, truly romantic. "Yes. I agree completely. We'll just look longingly across the room at one another and do a great deal of sighing."

"Yes," he said backing away out of the water. "Sighing. Lots of sighing."

"The torment will be exquisite."

"Exquisite torment. Yeah. Well. Must go. S-see you." He turned abruptly and hurried up the path back toward the castle.

Serenity watched him go. She almost lifted her hand in a wave but no. It would be far more tragic if she simply let him go. She sighed.

Perfect.


On to Chapter Five
"Clues"

Back to Chapter Three
"Remembrance"

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