Harry felt two things. He felt mighty stupid and now had a sore head. The man he believed to be Dumbledore stood over him with a deepening scowl. Make that three things: He was now suddenly scared.

"I take it you're Albus Dumbledore."

Dumbledore's bushy brows rose slightly. "Come now, Harry. I don't think you took that great a tumble."

"Er…it wasn't the tumble, sir." He pushed himself to his feet and helped Draco up before he leant down to retrieve the book. "It's just that we needed this book."

"His memory has been cursed, Albus, by something my father made six years ago. He can't remember a thing. Only his name."

"My dear boy!" He enclosed Harry in a bear hug. The beard tickled his face and smelled vaguely of chocolate. He pushed Harry back and looked him over. "And what makes you think the charm came from this book?"

"Hermione figured it out, sir," said Draco, "and my father is helping with the rest."

"I see. Is Hermione here now?"

"No. She's at Malfoy Manor. That's where we were heading back to."

"And who, may I ask, is teaching your classes?"

"Arthur Weasley is teaching Potions and Ron is teaching Defense."

Dumbledore crooked a brow at that but said nothing. He gazed at Harry over the rims of his half-moon spectacles. "When did all this occur?"

"Saturday," said Harry. "I guess when Arthur Weasley brought me a box of Unfixables. That's when I touched the bloody thing. I guess. I don't remember, of course."

"Of course. Harry, I am very sorry to have been away. But there are still Dark wizards in the world and they must be kept an eye on. I was called away to Europe to question…a suspicious person. Had I known, I could have returned immediately to help. What is his condition, Draco?"

Dumbledore's blue eyes held nothing now but sympathy. Harry understood.

"Harry remembers his name, that he's a wizard, and all about Hogwarts, but that's all. Though he is relearning his spells and is a fast learner. We Apparated here, as a matter of fact."

"I had wondered." He clutched his hands over his long robes. "He recalled nothing else?"

"Well, I did remember about someone named Quirrell and I guess Voldemort."

"And nothing about-" The old wizard didn't seem to know how to say, but he darted a glance at Draco. Harry reddened.

"Er…no. But…I'm relearning that, too." And he offered a smile, one to Dumbledore and a quite different one to Draco.

Dumbledore coughed lightly into his hand. "So I see." Fawkes flew down and alighted on his perch. "I see that Fawkes has been helping you so there is little I can fault you in terms of this little larceny. Of course you wouldn't have broken into my private study if it hadn't been extreme circumstances."

"Oh no, sir!" they both reassured.

"Of course. Well. Shall we all go to Malfoy Manor, then, and see what can be done?"

Harry felt ten times better that Dumbledore was coming with them. He knew Lucius Malfoy couldn't pull any fast ones with the old wizard around.

They all Apparated at once back to the manor, and their loud pop startled not only Hermione but Narcissa and Lucius as well.

Lucius positively paled upon seeing Dumbledore. His lip pulled up in a sneer. "Dumbledore. What a…surprise."

"Lucius. It has been a long time. Many changes, no? You must feel quite lucky to have a son-in-law like Harry. He was, after all, the most sought after bachelor in the Wizarding world. So fortunate your son caught his eye."

"Yes. Fortunate."

"Gives you a chance to make up for all those hard feelings you harbored for Harry for all those years. And now it looks like one of your cruel tricks has caught up with him. How kind of you to offer to make things right."

"This Weasley woman was rather insistent."

"Ah, Mrs. Weasely. Hermione. So rude of me not to have greeted you right away. How are you fairing?"

"Quite well, Professor. We're all worried about Harry, though."

"Quite right. Harry, dear boy. Have you the book?"

Harry handed it to the old wizard and Dumbledore opened the large heavy covers. "Which spell was it now, Lucius."

Hermione held up her copy. "It's on page two hundred and forty-four. It's torn out of the library copy."

He smiled at Hermione and turned to the appropriate page. His smile immediately faded. His gaze shot up from the page and pinned Lucius. "You used this spell?"

Lucius pulled his collar away from his neck with a trembling finger. "I was doing what the Dark Lord wanted me to do. Since I was not allowed to kill Potter I was doing my best to make it easier for the Dark Lord to do so."

Draco shook his head. His face was stricken. Clearly he remembered quite well his wanting to help his father in this endeavor.

Harry looked away from Draco. "So…so how hard is it to reverse?"

Dumbledore shook his head. "Harry, it cannot be reversed. This spell is so intricate, so interwoven into your psyche, it would do great damage to you should we try to undo it. I'm afraid your memories are gone for good. I'm sorry."

Harry lowered his eyes. So that was it. He'd never remember even fleeting things about his parents, or his godfather, or learning his first spells, or his days becoming friends with Ron and Hermione. He'd never remember his first painful stirrings of feelings for Draco, or when he proposed, or their wedding, or their wedding night. He'll never know what conversations they had or sorrows they shared. It didn't seem fair. Draco was burdened with all of it, including Voldemort, but he couldn't remember a thing. Well, at least he was in love with Draco and they could build new memories. But how long would it take to relearn all his magic? How long would it take before he could teach his classes again? Would it take months? Years? Would Dumbledore coddle him that long?

"Well," he began. He shrugged. "It can't be helped, I guess."

"What a minute!" Draco pulled on the old wizard. "Is that it? You can't help him? Can't Father do something about it?"

"It's possible since your father was the caster of the curse that he might have been able to disable its affects, but Draco, he isn't alive. An enchanted painting, though it has the memories of the deceased, cannot perform as the deceased. He is not a living wizard anymore. No wand, no real magic."

Harry grabbed Draco's shoulders. "It's all right. I'm all right. Like I said, I'll make new memories, and I'll work hard so that I can get back to my classes. And if I can't, I'll do something else at Hogwarts. Maybe I can be your assistant or something. Would that be all right, Professor?"

"Stupid Gryffindor," hissed Draco. "If you weren't so damned reckless you would have known better than to tackle those damned things by yourself. You're always doing dangerous things!"

"That's not really fair. How do I defend that-"

"Everything you do is reckless. That invisibility cloak, Apparating to Dumbledore's office, running headlong into trouble. It's so typical of you. Like the time you put your name in the Goblet of Fire. That was the stupidest-"

"I didn't put my name in the Goblet of Fire! That was Barty Crouch, Jr. I didn't have anything to do with-" Harry froze. Wait a minute. The image of the Goblet of Fire spewing out his name in a flurry of red flames flashed across his mind. He saw himself in the first task, then the second. A searing pain like he used to experience with Voldemort's scar blasted his forehead and he doubled.

"Harry!" Hermione grabbed him and he raised reddened eyes, looking at her. He saw her but also the image of her on a train, the Hogwarts Express. She was much younger, hair bushier. It was their first year, their first encounter!

"What's wrong with him?" He heard Ron's voice in his mind and pictures of Ron, the Burrow, his brothers, Ginny Weasley-it all came rushing at him as if it had been stoppered, waiting for release.

Images flooded his mind, reaching back to his earliest memories, like flipping the pages of a book. It made him suddenly sick. His head was spinning. He grabbed for something and encountered a hand. He took it, grasped it, felt the warm comfort of it and knew instantly it was Draco. "Harry." Draco's voice flushed him with a thousand more images and emotions long denied. He longed to say something. He longed to throw himself into his arms and tell him how sorry he was for hurting him. But he couldn't. So many images burst through his brain it was overwhelming. He made one futile attempt to rear up and climb back into something normal when his forehead crackled with pain again. He fell over and would have hit the ground if Draco hadn't caught him. Then darkness.

* * *

"I think he's coming around," said a woman's voice. Harry lay on a soft bed like a cloud and didn't want to rouse himself. He felt like he's run a very long race and was finally allowed to stop. He wanted to roll over and go back to sleep or oblivion or wherever it was he had gone, but someone was leaning close and he could feel the heat from him and a familiar spicy cologne and he knew he wanted to open his eyes for him. When he did, his eyesight was blurry. Someone had taken his glasses, yet the face of his husband-though out of focus-was unmistakable.

"Draco," he whispered, and reached up for him.

He felt Draco's lips descend. "Harry," he said breathlessly. "Are you okay?"

Harry nodded. "Where are my-" But Draco was handing him his glasses. He looked up at Hermione and Dumbledore. He was in his room at Malfoy Manor. He recognized the canopy above the bed. "What's going on?"

"Don't tell me you don't remember?" cried Draco, his voice raised an octave.

"No, hang on." Harry felt his thrumming head and sat up. He cast his legs over the side of the bed. "I forgot everything, right? I have a feeling that wasn't a dream."

"No, it bloody well wasn't." Draco slid onto the bed beside him. "What do you remember now?"

Harry thought a moment and a slow smile spread on his face. "Everything." He locked eyes with Draco. "I remember everything. It's back. All of it."

Draco heaved a great sigh and held Harry's hand tightly.

"But how can this be?" asked Hermione. "Professor Dumbledore just got done telling us that it couldn't be reversed."

"I think it has something to do with Voldemort," said Dumbledore.

They all said it at once: "Voldemort?"

He lifted Harry to his feet and walked with him back down the corridor to the painting of Lucius and Narcissa. The two in the portrait were straining to see them approach.

"You told me yourself, Harry," said Dumbledore, nodding a greeting to the painting. "The only thing you could remember from your past was the first instance you met Voldemort. That is, when you were older than a baby."

Harry shook his head, trying to make sense of all of it. "But what does that-?"

"Your magic is trebled, Harry. Your own magic, Draco's…"

"And Voldemort's."

"You are already a very powerful wizard." He turned to Lucius with a mischievous smile. "Did you know that, Lucius?"

"So I am told," he sneered. "Repeatedly."

"Add onto that Draco's and Voldemort's and I fear that very few hexes can get through so much power. It acts like a shield."

"But I did forget everything."

"For a time. I am forced to use a Muggle metaphor that I'm sure you will understand. You see, the curse acted much like a bullet, and your combined magic like a bullet proof vest. Though the bullet cannot penetrate the vest, it pacts a wallop and often sends the recipient into a brief period of unconsciousness with the pain of impact. There is some bruising, but he recovers. I believe your trebled magic acted in this way and the reason you remembered Voldemort no matter how vaguely was because his magic is very powerful in itself and could not be denied. It made itself known to you, even as unclear as it was."

"First time the old bastard did a damned thing for me."

Dumbledore smiled. "Quite. Well now. All seems to be back in order. I expect you two to be back at Hogwarts to resume your classes and spare your students anymore instruction from our well-meaning Weasleys. Lucius, thank you for your help. Will there be any repercussions from our destroying your hexed object?"

"No. It didn't seem necessary."

"Indeed not. Very effective magic. You are to be congratulated, but then again, you were always very good in Charms."

Lucius graciously inclined his head.

"And thank you, too, Hermione for your hard work. No doubt it was you who found the spell book in question." She reddened and laughed giddily. "Well now. Shall we rescue the students?"

He tucked his arm into Hermione's. "Farewell Lucius, Narcissa. Pleasant speaking with you again." The sentiment was clearly not mutual on Lucius' part and he kept silent. Dumbledore glanced at Harry. "I trust you and Draco can Apparate into Hogwarts on your own, though I would appreciate it if it wasn't into my study."

"Of course, sir," said Harry contritely.

A loud crack and they were all back at Hogwarts in the entry hall. "Hermione, be so good as to collect your family and have them meet us in my office. The password is Sticky Buns."

He did not motion to the boys but they knew to follow him and soon they were traveling up the griffin stair and into his office. Dumbledore moved slowly around his desk and sat in his throne-like chair. Harry noticed that no chairs were conjured for Draco or himself.

The old wizard folded his hands together and rested them on the parchment-covered desk before him. "Now, gentlemen. Before the Weasleys arrive, we need to discuss discipline. My office-indeed the offices of all the teachers here-are locked with special passwords. There is a reason for that. We all have secrets. Some are quite necessary as you in your own experience can well agree." Harry reddened. There had been a time when he and Draco had not made their orientation nor their relationship known to the Wizarding world at large. Even Dumbledore hadn't known. "So you will appreciate my…concern…that you chose to violate the sanctity of my office, good intentions aside."

"Sir, I am so sorry for doing that," said Harry. "There really is no excuse. And it wasn't Draco's fault because I forced him. Literally. He didn't have a clue that I was going to do that."

The old blue eyes flicked once toward Draco and then back to Harry. "I see. Well. Mr. Potter. You are no longer a student here. You are an adult and a teacher. What sort of punishment, then, do you think is mete?"

"P-punishment? Er…I don't…know…"

"I know you enjoy helping Hagrid and though Mr. Filch is perhaps not your favorite person, helping him seems a bit too much like detention. Ah. I think I know. This is a very interesting and instructive incident, wouldn't you say? Losing your memory because of carelessness. I think it would make a very interesting feature in the Daily Prophet. I think I will summon Rita Skeeter. Does that seem like punishment enough?"

Harry groaned. It certainly did. "Yes, sir. It may even be a little too cruel."

Dumbledore chuckled but said nothing. A knock on the door made them all turn and Dumbledore called out for the Weasleys to enter.

Arthur looked a bit ruffled and his knit waistcoat was stained and smoking with chemicals. Ron seemed weary but the two of them greeted Harry with backslaps and handshakes. "Are you really back to snuff, mate?" asked Ron.

"Yeah. All the memories are back. How're my classes?"

"They're all right. I think they know more than I do. What have you been teaching them, Harry?"

"Oh, loads of stuff we didn't have in school. I want them prepared."

"'Constant Vigilance!'" laughed Ron.

Draco was eyeing Mr. Weasley. "I'm almost afraid to ask," he said, staring at Arthur's ruined waistcoat.

"Oh we all did very well, very well indeed. You have a bright bunch there, Draco. And they all like you very much," he added, somewhat surprised. Draco tried to hide his warm smile of satisfaction but Harry caught it.

"That covers everything, I think," said Dumbledore.

"Not everything," said Hermione, worry marring her features. "What about Serenity Hudson?"

Harry smacked his forehead. "Oh bugger! I forgot!"

"Serenity Hudson?" asked Dumbledore.

Harry turned to the old wizard again. "She came into the classroom when I was assessing those Unfixables that Mr. Weasley brought and she touched one. It turned out to be a…a love charm and I'm afraid she's fixated on…well, me."

Dumbledore's beard riffled and it took a moment for Harry to realize that he was laughing. "Oh Harry. I see you have some work left to do. Never mind about the interview. I think this is punishment enough."

* * *

Harry paced in his office. The box of Unfixables was still there, though the now harmless iron and the dangerous snow globe had been removed. The innocuous-looking mug sat in the middle of Harry's desk. All morning between classes he'd been examining it, taking apart the magic that coalesced over it, but he couldn't quite manage to disengage it like he had done to the iron. The wireless continued to make raspberries at him and no silencing charm he knew would shut it up.

There was a knock on the door and a very shy Serenity Hudson peeked in. "You wanted to see me, Harry."

"That's 'Professor Potter', Miss Hudson. And yes, come in."

"Why are we playing this game, Harry? You know what we are to each other."

"We are teacher and student, Miss Hudson. I hope we are also friends. But be assured, we are nothing more than that."

She merely giggled.

Harry's stomach ached. "Okay." He sat again and stared at her over the mug. "Do you recognize this?"

"Yes," she said barely blinking at the mug. "That's the thing I touched that you said was hexed. But it wasn't, Harry, because nothing's happened."

"Professor Potter! Now then. You mean to tell me you don't notice these feelings you have…" He cleared his throat. "F-for me?"

"I've always had a bit of a crush on you. All the girls do."

Harry's eyes widened. "Thu-they do?"

"Of course. All the teachers here are so old. You and Professor Malfoy are a breath of fresh air. There's a fair number with a crush on him, too, but they're mostly Slytherins."

Harry's collar felt tight. "O-kay. So you're telling me you don't feel strange or different."

"No." She leaned forward. "Since you're teaching classes again I guess you're feeling better. So we can meet at the greenhouse like we planned."

Harry reared back. "No! Miss Hudson, we are going to do nothing of the kind! Now…focus!"

She sighed and placed her hands in her lap.

Harry ran his wand over the mug for the hundredth time. He waved it over Hudson and recognized the same tendrils. He tried a few things but they weren't working. This was getting him nowhere. He got to his feet, angrily aimed his wand at the mug, and yelled, "Extinguere!"

The mug exploded into a thousand little pieces. Hudson screamed. When the dust settled Harry stared at Hudson. "Sorry about that. You all right?"

Hudson wiped at her uniform and brushed small shards from her hair. "What did you do that for?"

"When all else fails, destroy the bugger. How do you feel?"

"I'm all right, sir. No damage."

"I mean…how do you feel?"

She looked up at him with large expressive eyes. "I don't know what you mean, sir."

"I mean…" He walked around the desk and sidled up to her and in a seductive voice asked again, "how do you feel, Serenity?"

She drew back, casting her arms protectively over her chest. "Professor Potter!"

Harry smiled and patted her shoulder. "Excellent. That's all, Hudson."

Her face was red and she stared at Harry with dawning understanding. "Oh Professor! I'm so sorry! I'm…I'm…"

"It's all right Hudson. Not your fault."

"But Professor! I…I…Oh!" She burst into tears and stood up. Before she darted away, she grabbed her application from his desk and high-tailed it out of the office. Harry jumped to his feet and almost started after her but thought better of it. He sat back down with a whoosh of relief and cleaned away the rest of the shards with a vanishing spell.

The wireless sent him a raspberry. "Oh shut it!" and he waved his wand over it. Remarkably, that seemed to do the trick.

* * *

Draco was about to turn the corner in the dungeons when instinct made him pull up short. He heard two students talking, and though any other teacher might have considered it less than polite to listen in, the Slytherin in him had no such qualms. He hung back and listened. It was Felicia Rosencrantz and Serenity Hudson.

"So are you better now?" asked Rosencrantz.

"Oh Felicia! I'm so embarrassed! How can I ever face him again?"

"You'll get over it. I'm sure he has."

"But I mean! The way I acted. And oh my God! I kissed him!"

Draco stiffened and scowled. He will not hex her, he will not hex her…

Felicia giggled. "Yeah. You did. So give over. How was it?"

"Felicia! I'm embarrassed here!"

"I know, I know. But come on. How was it? This info is gold, you know. You must be the only girl to ever kiss Harry Potter."

There was a long pause and this time it was Hudson's turn to giggle. "Well, it was brilliant, actually. Professor Malfoy is so lucky!"

Draco leaned against the stone wall and smiled. He certainly was.

The End


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"The Evil That Lies Within"

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