Chapter Twenty-Three
It's All Coming Back to Me Now

It was pitch black, all around them. For a moment, Harry was worried that he might have gone blind, but then he could see his own hands as he felt his way through the darkness and he discarded the idea. Still, it was completely black all around him and he was alone.

Or so he thought.


He turned around at the sound of his love’s voice and his eyes widened when saw Draco stand there, his body fully healed and his eyes alive. Harry ran to him, surprised at how light his body felt and took Draco in his arms, his mind on nothing but the blonde before him. They met in a searing kiss, hungrily devouring each other. Their tongues fought in a war of dominance, with Draco seeming to come out the victor. When they parted at last, they were both panting heavily.

“I thought I’d lost you…” Harry mumbled into Draco’s hair.

“I told you, I’m not going anywhere away from you,” Draco replied, holding Harry just as close.

“Never leave me,” Harry said, holding onto the blonde tightly. Then he looked around them and asked with a frown, “Are we dead?”

“Don’t know,” Draco admitted and added, “I hope not. This place is too boring to spend the rest of eternity here.”

Harry stared for a moment at him, before he began laughing, his heart light. There was no way that he could ever be unhappy as long as he was with Draco, whether they were dead or alive – or something completely different.

Draco took his hand and began walking. They walked for what Harry believed to be several minutes – he wasn’t sure; they could have been going forever, or have just started walking for all that he knew. Nothing changed and time didn’t seem to exist. No matter how long they continued to walk, they were greeted with nothing but inky blackness.

“Hello!” Draco suddenly shouted into the darkness.

The sound didn’t echo. In fact, it just sort of died down, as soon as it left the blonde’s mouth. The blonde in question didn’t look very happy about the fact that no one answered his yelling.

“This is boring,” he concluded a moment later.

Harry smiled slightly at him and sat down on the ground. It was an odd feeling, he decided, to sit down in all this blackness. It felt sort of like sitting on nothing, as the dark just continued on beneath him, as well as above and around him.

“Then stop doing it,” he replied calmly to Draco. “I can think of several things that I would rather be doing with you right now.”

The blonde sat down next to him, and Harry wrapped his arms around the smaller body. “Oh really?” Draco asked, looking up at him coyly.

“Yes,” Harry said and grinned as their lips met again. “Oh yes…”

They were both about to lose themselves in one another when a sound rudely interrupted them.


They broke apart and turned around to see what had made the noise.

About fifty feet away – although Harry couldn’t be sure at all that that was the distance, as the darkness had no points of reference at all – stood two young men, both very familiar. One tall man with a mass of unruly black hair tied back in a messy ponytail, with his arms around a smaller blonde.

“But – you’re us!” said Draco, frowning.

Harry could see them now, as they stepped closer. It was indeed their mirror images – their older selves, not the younger. Harry had become used to the image of himself as twenty-three years old in the past three months and it was all there on these two people, from the hair to the eyes to the body and even the scar on the other Harry’s forehead.

“Well, that is almost right,” the other Draco said with a small smile. “I am you, seven years into your future.”

It was then that Harry and Draco looked down at themselves. Both took a sharp intake of breath as they saw that they were back in their sixteen-year-old bodies. They were smaller, skinnier, and both missing the long hair and tattoo. Harry knew that it wouldn’t be long before they would both have the two latter back; it represented them too much now for it to not be there.

“I know you’re full of questions,” the other Harry said, interrupting Harry’s train of thought, “But please, just let us explain for we haven’t got a lot of time.”

Draco was about to ask something anyway, but Harry put his hand over his boyfriend’s mouth, stopping him. Draco glared at him, but the Boy Who Lived ignored him. He nodded to their other selves to continue.

“You were taken to the future because the fates felt your relationship was progressing too slowly. You needed to be together, as Healers and as lovers, for history to work as it should. It’s quite complicated to explain, but it has happened many, many times before; Draco and I were both taken when we were your age, so that our relationship would progress as it should.”

“It happens every seven years, in a never-ending circle,” the other Draco continued. “In seven years, you will be in our place, giving your younger selves this same speech and your younger selves will have gone through the exact same thing that you just have.”

Harry and Draco both stared at their older selves unbelievingly. It had certainly sounded like English, those words that the elder Draco had just said, but neither of the younger had understood a word of it.

“What happens now, then?” Harry asked after several moments of silence, deciding that perhaps it didn’t matter if he didn’t understand.

“You will be returned to the right time,” the other Harry replied. “You won’t remember everything that has happened; we can’t have you know that much of the future. You will get back to your own time and as far as I recall, you will be fairly disoriented. You will, however, remember your love for each other.”

“In seven years, when this has happened again, you will get your memories back on what happened in these three months,” Draco said, “just like we have.”

“Where have you been?” the younger Draco asked. “I mean, while we lived in your bodies, where were you?”

His older self gave him a small smile. “We’ve been here. Time doesn’t exist here in this realm, so to us, we’ve only been here for a few moments.”

The older Harry looked at the younger pair and said, “Now, we have to leave you and you have to go back. You will be returned to three days after you left, so you will wake up in the Hospital Wing. You’ve been unconscious for these three days.”

“You won’t remember anything of the conversation you’ve just had with us either,” the other Draco said. At their startled looks – and annoyed, as far as Draco’s look went – he added, “You will remember in seven years, when you’re in our bodies. We will be returned to our own bodies now.”

The other Harry smiled at them. “Oh, and congratulations Harry – you caught the snitch.”

“Hey! Wait,” Harry said, but they were fading away, and didn’t respond. More to himself than to his older self, he asked, “Did Draco survive? Did Ron and the others?”

Draco smiled softly at him. “We’ll find out in seven years, Harry,” he said, taking Harry’s hand in his own.

“Seven years…” Harry muttered. His voice was devoid of malice, however; he moved closer to Draco, his heart beating rapidly in his chest. They wrapped their arms around each other, drawing and giving support.

“Farewell, Harry, farewell, Draco…” were the last whispered words heard from their older selves, before they faded away completely. The darkness surrounded them again and the two boys found themselves holding on to each other even tighter. Some part of Harry recognized this, although he didn’t know from where. The feeling grew stronger when a wind blew up from nowhere, ripping at their clothes. They shut their eyes tightly and concentrated only on holding on to the other, when a force stronger than anything they’d ever experienced before, ripped them apart and threw them away from each other.

Suddenly, Harry was alone in the darkness. He had no time to ponder, however, because something shook the darkness and a light blinded him.

He felt no more.

Harry’s head throbbed.

He flexed his hands and tried to move his legs, but noticed that all of his muscles were throbbing painfully. He moaned pitifully and the very next moment, he heard footsteps. A strong sense of déjà vu surrounded him and it became even stronger when someone said,

“He’s waking up!”

Madame Pomfrey, he knew; he’d listened to it enough times before.


Now that sounded like Ron – although not like Harry was used to, a part of his brain said. It was Ron, but not quite… He couldn’t put his finger on it.

Slowly opening his eyes and taking in his surroundings, unclear without the help of his glasses. Glasses? Did he need glasses still? Of course he did, he’d always needed glasses. Right?

“Good afternoon, Mr Potter,” said Madame Pomfrey with a small smile, handing him his glasses.

He saw both Ron and Hermione stand next to Madame Pomfrey, their eyebrows knitted with worry. Harry was puzzled; Hermione and Ron looked exactly as they should – yet at the same time they didn’t. It was the same strange feeling that he’d had when he had heard Ron’s voice. Professor Dumbledore stood behind Harry’s two best friends, watching him.

“Welcome back, Harry,” he said. His eyes twinkled merrily and Harry wondered what the Headmaster was playing at.

“I imagine you’re quite sore,” Madame Pomfrey said, cutting off Harry’s train of thoughts. “That fall was awful and I am so glad that neither you nor Mr Malfoy suffered any permanent damage. That sport is just begging for injury…”

Madame Pomfrey continued to mutter about what a horrible sport Quidditch was, but Harry had stopped listening.

Mr Malfoy…


“Where’s Draco?” Harry asked, his voice sounding strange and off to his own ears. He tried sitting up, but Hermione placed a hand on his shoulder and held him down.

“He’s over there,” she answered, pointing at the bed next to Harry. “He’s still unconscious; has been for three days.”

“You’ve been unconscious for these three days.”

Where had he heard those words before? They seemed distant, like a dream of sorts. His feelings for the boy on the bed beside his, however, felt like anything but a dream. Strong and raw they were and Harry knew without a doubt that he loved Draco. He expected himself to be revolted, but found nothing but warmth in his heart. Something told him that he had already fought too hard to be with Draco once – although he couldn’t remember, for that was another dream – and he did not need to do it again.

This time when he tried to get up, he didn’t let Hermione stop him. Instead he stood, on unsteady feet, and stumbled over to the bed where Malfoy – no, Draco – lay. His head was spinning and he wondered if he would faint, still he managed to reach the bed.

The boy on the bed matched the sheets in colour; white. Dark circles were beneath his eyes, a heavy contrast to the otherwise so pale skin and his cheeks were sunken in. His breathing seemed uneasy, heavy yet at the same time hollow. He looked small and fragile. An image flashed before his eyes…

He was holding Draco tightly and the boy – no, young man, for Draco was no longer a boy – looked up at him.

“I love you… Harry,” he said, and them the eyelids closed over the grey orbs as Draco gave into unconsciousness.

“No!” Harry said loudly, shaking his head at the image before his eyes. He saw the reality before him; the pale, small boy, and he knew that he had to do something.

…Healer’s energy…

Harry didn’t know what the voice in his head was, or how he knew what to do, and he didn’t care. His body, no, his whole being, told him to put his hands on Draco’s chest and forehead, to heal him. He wanted nothing but to see those eyes open and looking at him again, even if it was only to glare at him. Still, he knew that Draco wouldn’t glare.

Somehow, he just knew.

He felt the energy pass through his own hands, into Draco’s body and saw the immediate effects it had. The blonde boy’s breathing evened out into something that seemed more like sleep than unconsciousness. Then, with a final push of energy – Healer’s Warmth, he knew – Draco’s eyes opened slowly.

His eyes were unfocussed at first and as he tried to gain focus, he looked around himself wildly. Harry thought he looked even more vulnerable than before.

“Harry?” he asked finally, when his eyes stopped on the Boy Who Lived.

Behind him, Harry heard Ron mutter about why Malfoy suddenly called Harry by his first name. Hermione replied to him that she didn’t know – and then she went on about how Harry had just healed Malfoy. Dumbledore stood silent, watching and Harry just knew he had a smile on his face.

Harry himself knew without knowing why the blonde called him ‘Harry’ rather than ‘Potter’.

“Are you okay?” he asked softly, pulling a lock of blonde hair out of Draco’s face. He wondered how it would look if it were long.

“Sore,” Draco replied, seeming to know just like Harry did, what was happening, without actually understanding at all. “You?”

“Tired,” Harry replied. “I just did something to you… healed you, I think… It was a bit tiring. I should probably sleep some more…”

“You are welcome to share my bed anytime,” Draco grinned at him.

Behind them, they heard Ron gasp in shock at the genuine smile on Draco’s lips. Neither Ron nor Hermione moved to interrupt the two boys on the other bed, however.

Harry blushed slightly at Draco’s words. “For now, I think I am content in just doing this,” he said and bent down to meet the blonde’s lips in a soft, promising kiss. Memories flared as they embraced and they remembered the relationship that had grown in three months when they’d been somewhere else than here. They remembered nothing of the surrounding circumstances; anything that wasn’t related to their relationship had fallen away in a white fog.

But when they broke apart, Harry caught a glimmering around Draco’s neck. He moved his fingers and found a silver chain with a small, silver dragon on it.

Draco’s brow furrowed. “I remember… but not really, at the same time,” he said. He in turn took Harry’s hand in his own, touching a golden ring that had suddenly found its way onto his finger. Harry looked just as confused as Draco had.

“There’s something about it,” he said softly. “But I can’t quite recall…”

Draco’s grey eyes met Harry’s green. “I think I love you,” he said.

“I think I love you too,” Harry said and bent down to kiss Draco again.

One day, the two boys would regain their memory of exactly what had happened in the three months they’d spent away from this reality. But for now, they were perfectly content just re-discovering each other, feeling and touching anything and everything. Harry moaned into the kiss and Draco followed, deepening it, tongues battling for dominance with none coming out the victor and neither caring one bit.

Behind them, Hermione conjured up a chair for Ron to sit down on, just before he fainted.

But when you touch me like this
And you hold me like that
I just have to admit
That it's all coming back to me
When I touch you like this
And I hold you like that
It's so hard to believe but
It's all coming back to me

-- “It’s all coming back to me now” -- Celine Dion --

The End.

© Cosmic, 2003
Started: October 27th, 2002
Finished: December 25th, 2002
Edited until: June 5th, 2003

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Author's Notes: …and that is the end of this epic! Glad you stayed with me all the way to the end… through tears, laughter and other lovely emotions (and lots of “You are EVIL!” exclamations…) :)

I hope that you liked the way I ended it. Like it says above, I finished this story back in December 2002; it was finished before I started posting it. It has been a lot of fun to read all the theories on how and why Harry and Draco were brought to the future – or if it perhaps was a memory spell? I had so much fun writing this story; I’m glad you’ve enjoyed reading it.

I hope that there aren’t any lose ends, other than those I chose to leave open. Feel free to point out anything you feel isn’t disclosed, and I will try my best to explain my thoughts on why I wrote what I did.

I would appreciate long reviews on this last chapter; reviews on the story as a whole. What could have been better? What did I do well? Of course, any reviews, long or short, are much appreciated.

I thank every single one of you who have reviewed this fic. I have tried to respond to all of you; if I have missed you, I’m sorry. Just know that I really, truly appreciate your feedback.

If you are interested, the list of sources I’ve used for this story is posted on my site. Names, information on guns, etc is in that. The author’s notes here on will be replaced with some other stuff… If you want to read the old author’s notes, go to my site.

From the bottom of my heart, a great, big, huge THANK YOU to all my readers.



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