#pensieves

Ron interrupted before Draco could reply, “Remember Malfoy if you use these memories in any way to hurt him you will be sorry.” He gave the blonde a pointed look, “Harry has had a tough time after the war and if you end up leaking anything, and I mean anything at all, you will be on the receiving end of my wand, and I know some pretty mean hexes.” 

“Wouldn’t dream of it Weasley,” it was the next head auror he was talking to after all. “Just left Lovegood know that she’ll be expecting me.” 

And that was how he ended up in this current situation having tea with the Ravenclaw in her clinic. He sipped his earl grey tentatively as she came back to the room with a box full of Harry’s pensieves.  

She smiled sweetly before setting them down on the long table. 

“These are all the memories he pensieved while he was in Indonesia. He visited quite a handful of times you know. Something about it kept pulling him back in.” 

She levitated their cups as she made her way out of the room, giving him some privacy to focus. Before she closed the door she turned back to him to give him a warning. 

“Draco, as one healer to another I know you wouldn’t do anything to hurt a patient. But know that we would never betray Harry’s confidence and given your history I’ll have you know that a lot of people care for him. Don’t betray his trust, Draco.” 

He nodded in agreement and when she left, he slowly poured the bottles into the pensieve, the newest model allowing multiple memories to be viewed at once. If he was being honest with himself he was a bit anxious to know what his old rival’s been up to. Sadly, he acknowledged that his old obsession with Potter back at school was making a comeback. As he was pouring out the last bottle he couldn’t help but notice a note attached to the label. 

‘Loving can hurt, yet loving can heal and mend your soul. Remember to keep your love in these photographs, Harry, and they’ll help lead you home.” 

Obviously one of Lovegood’s encouragements he mused as he poured the last one in. He stared at the pensieve for a beat longer before plunging in. 

He expected a warm sunny beach, or yet a luxurious hotel for Potter to be relaxing in. What he wasn’t expecting was to see children in poverty in a small room. They were huddled over small books and there was an adult at the front speaking. With a small jolt he realized that this was a classroom. He searched around for Potter before finding him next to a little girl around the age of 5 or 6. He had a small piece of parchment out and it looked like he was trying to draw. 

He spoke to the girl quietly before presenting her with what he drew, earning him a delighted smile. He watched the memory continue as the group of students eventually moved on from their school day and watched Potter instead. Salazar, since when could Potter draw? As Potter finished yet another art piece a small memory made him remember that Potter was friends with Thomas, who was now a famous artist in England. He wondered if Thomas ever gave his friend lessons. This might’ve been a year or two after the war since Potter didn’t look like the scrawny teen he once knew. Actually, judging from the state from when he was admitted to St. Mungo’s, all the traveling clearly benefited him deeply. 

Another memory and they were in a more public area, but this time Potter looked closer to when he just finished the war. Here, Potter was speaking with an old man, deep in conversation. A turn of his head showed a different group of kids, yet their situation didn’t seem any different from the group in the previous pensieve. After a while, he saw Potter hesitantly approach and open a bag, giving the children and their parents some basic necessities like soaps he got from his hotel to small snacks from a local vendor. He proceeded to sit down when he was done and engaged in small talk with the locals, the man he was speaking to earlier leading the conversation. He watched Potter slowly grow more relaxed and laugh more freely. At some point he moved on to entertaining the children. Draco watched on until the sunset before shaking his head reminding himself that he was on a mission. 

More memories afterwards showed more of the same thing. Occasionally Potter would spend some time for himself but he would always move on to the streets to engage with the locals. A lot of the pensieves had the old man from the second memory. 

Potter drawing, Potter handing out whatever he could spare, smiling, laughing, and surprisingly even dancing to the song some local street band was playing. Apparently his dance skills have improved quite a lot since their fourth year. 

Eventually he came across a memory that stood out in more details. You could tell with the more vivid colors in the pensieve that this was quite an important memory to Potter. 

“Have you found her yet?” he asked after a small woman entered back into the room with the old man Draco nicknamed Rani. 

“We think she wandered too far under the bridge. It’s getting late and she still hasn’t returned,” the woman replied shakingly. “If something happened to my daughter…” she trailed off but the silence filled in what she was trying to say. 

He watched Potter get up from where he was sitting. “I’ll find her.” 

“Are you sure?” Rani asked as the Gryffindor walked towards the door. “Jakarta is a very friendly city but Naya is young and easy to prey upon.” 

“I’ll be back by tomorrow at best,” he hitched his backpack over his shoulder. “Give Indah my love and tell her I’ll try visiting soon.” 

He followed Potter through the pensieve once he left, watching as they passed barracks, railroad tracks and bridges. Eventually he watched Potter pass under a bridge before a small ambush took  place, Potter’s attackers shielding a small child behind them. 

He watched at the last second as Potter got hit square on the chest, which barely fazed him, before he threw an Expelliarmus and stunned him. Once it was over and he got Naya back to his mother, Draco replayed the fight scene over again and watched as the attacker fired the spell, noting the color and making out the incantation. 

He watched Potter one last time, all relief and smiles showing in his face as he watched Naya reunite with her mother. Ever the heroic Gryffindor still. He briefly wondered if these people would miss him if Potter- he shook himself from these thoughts and he resurfaced from the pensieves. 

He found Luna Lovegood watching him softly before nodding to herself and helping pack back the memories. A look behind her at the window told Draco that it was already night. 

“Thank you for letting me borrow the pensive Lovegood,” Draco said while slowly moving the contents to their original bottle, “I think I got what I needed for Potter’s case.” 

“He was quite happy wasn’t he,” she spoke out of the blue, “I think he truly needed that after the war and all.” 

“He did look...rather well, yes,” he agreed, unsure of where the conversation was leading. He may have wondered about Potter in the past but it never got him anywhere. He didn’t realize how much he missed the git until he saw him basking in the joy of just spending time with others and engaging in their culture. He wondered what else he had missed with Potter’s life and suddenly he was a bit too keen to find out. 

“I think Harry needed to see that the world wasn’t all that bad after Voldemort was gone. But even though he didn’t find exactly that, I think it makes him happy. Being part of their lives and doing what he can. Humans lead such intricate lives,” she paused appearing to be in deep thought. “I secretly think that if it was all sunshine and rainbows like Harry wanted to find, he would’ve gotten bored after a while you know? Life can only be good when you see the bad too. And in all his pensieves he saw a mix of both. Poverty with a sense of community. They had the simple pleasantries he couldn't have afforded here.” 

Draco thought back at the Potter he knew from Hogwarts. He thought back to all the bitterness and jealousy that he felt when Potter was always the one in the spotlight. Even with everything going on at school, the git just wasn’t able to have a normal year. He reflected back to what Lovegood said about simple pleasantries. He knew all too well what that felt like after the war. Those were some dark days before he was finally able to apprentice as a healer when Penelope Clearwater decided to give him a chance.  

They finished in silence as Draco bottled up the last of it. 

However before he left, Luna sent him off with a message, “When Harry finally wakes up, give him my love will you?” 

He was already on his way before he could tell her about the low chances of Harry’s survival, yet he didn’t doubt Luna’s words. And for Merlin’s sake when did he start referring to her as Luna? 

Entering St. Mungo’s was a blur or pressure and distress. Him and his team worked hard to form some sort of antidote potion (a counter spell wasn’t made yet), and the whole time he couldn’t stop worrying about the git. He knew as a healer it was his job to remain calm and collective for the efficiency of the case, but he really needed Potter to wake up afterwards. Although they still didn’t see each other much, Draco was determined to fit himself into Potter’s life. There was just no way he couldn’t when he recalled what Potter was like in Jakarta. He wanted to know how he changed and all the ways he could smile and bring joy to people’s faces just by engaging in small talk or dancing without a care in the world. 

He thought of all the things this would change for them as they fed Potter the potion, and he thought of all the things he needed to say as Potter slowly awakened after a few hours. 

“Malfoy?” Potter stated groggily as he sat up, “God, I remember the last time I was here. Do you need me to do those annoying question checks to see if I’m fine?” 

Draco felt the corner of his lips quirk up as he scribbled Potter’s new status on his notes. “Yes, Potter. Not even the boy who lived can escape standard check ins, no matter how annoying they are.” 

He looked up just in time for Potter to let out a fond sheepish grin. “Yeah I reckon so, though I have no idea what you could possibly ask me.” 

A beat of silence was shared and Draco felt a swell of anticipation for what he knew was going to come. He could tell Potter knew too just by reading his face. He was always an open book.