Series Summary: There are moments in our lives that have a major impact. The interactions, the adventures, and the love, all make up who we are. But when Harry can't remember those moments with YN, they are both left wondering what that means for themselves and their relationship.
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Author's Note: This is more of an "original story" since the Harry in this series isn't based on real life, in terms of fame and career.
I need to shout out @a-strange-familiar for sending me the concept and allowing me to write this series.
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Series Warnings: Some explicit language, car accident, hospitalization, memory loss, mention of medications, ex-girlfriend, mention of medical issue (father), alcohol consumption, lying, jealousy, mention of mild depression, mention of blood, and A LOT OF ANGST
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If you like what I post, and want to just send some extra support, I have a ko-fi account. Even the smallest amount is greatly appreciated. There is no obligation or expectation to donate, because I am honestly just so grateful that you're here! 💗 Bee xx
hi tumblr. i’ve never written for harry potter but i was bored and re-reading all of my favorite stories on good old fanfiction.net, which turned into finding a whole bunch of tumblr blogs that were filling the sirius&harry shaped hole in my heart and then i got cocky and started word vomiting and now here we are. probably won’t do more with this; i have commitment issues
this is inspired by/a continuation of The Persistence of Memory by neutral, they’re such a wonderful writer, with the most beautiful stories (i believe they were my first introduction to the whole sirius&harry universe. what an excellent can of worms to open!). sadly they haven’t updated in many many many years so im considering their fics to be abandoned. that means my imagination is filling in the blanks!
When they finally find Harry, he’s all skin and bones, blind in one eye, and remembers nothing. Nothing and no one, and it hurts Sirius more than any curse, any knife, any Bludger to the head ever could.
His eyes, Lily’s eyes, look at Sirius’ and there’s none of the warmth or fondness or life that Sirius had seen whenever he’d made eye contact with Harry those frustratingly few times in the six months before he disappeared. Instead, they’re utterly empty, no recognition or familiarity, blank in a way that all too well resemble his dead mother’s when Sirius stumbled over her that night, open and staring at the rotating stars that Sirius himself had charmed onto the ceiling a few days prior to help lull baby Harry to sleep. Dead dead dead with nothing left and utterly ripped apart and all alone and empty and please just leave me for dead dead dead like them like everyone-
No. Not dead. Every day Sirius forces himself to see that one small truth, the astronomical blessing, the miracle that’s almost too big to wrap his head around. After everything, Harry is not dead. The Boy-Who-Lived continues to breath while Voldemort does not, at the cost of his memory and half of his sight, the cure for both ailments beyond the current ability of any of the Healers.
Sirius knows that something’s there though. There has to be. Harry wouldn’t have called himself James, couldn’t have chosen his father’s name to be his own while he was at the orphanage if there wasn’t the thinnest thread connecting him back to his former self. Sirius holds onto this belief with everything he has. It’s probably the only thing keeping him from giving in to the urge to send an Avada Kedavra straight to his own chest in an effort to combat the constant feeling of failure that rooted itself deep into his chest the moment Harry was declared missing after the Third Task.
For some unknown reason, Harry’s allowed to stay with Remus and Sirius when he’s released from St. Mungo’s. Sirius finds it comical how an injured amnesiac is permitted to be under the care of a werewolf and a ex-convict when said teenager certainly wouldn’t have been able to before this whole disaster started, memories and body intact, although the lack of exoneration on Sirius’ part probably would have contributed. Still, Sirius almost laughed when Dumbledore told him that Harry would be returned to Sirius and Remus’s care once the Healers deemed him healthy enough to leave, although he quickly sobered when the head Healer chimed in with all of the health benchmarks Harry had yet to pass.
Eventually Harry’s injuries are healed (well, all those that can be healed) and his weight gets back to slightly unhealthy-underweight instead of scary skeleton-underweight. When they finally move back into Remus’ house, Sirius finds that Harry moves around the rooms like a ghost, barely saying anything. He has none of the confidence he had on the Quidditch field or any of the comfort Sirius imagined Harry would have had in the home they shared if they had actually lived together from the start, godfather and godson, father and son, like James and Lily had intended, like he himself had wanted for thirteen aching years.
It breaks Sirius’ heart, utterly smashes it, to see Harry walk around as if he’s avoiding broken glass, to see him turn his head completely whenever someone says something on his left side due to his blind eye, to see him jump whenever someone says anything at all, to see Harry look at him with blank confusion whenever Sirius brings up a memory they’ve shared in the past year in a feeble attempt to restore the loss that the Healer’s couldn’t (not that they had many interactions but a memory is a memory and the recollection of seeing Harry in the cave during that Hogsmeade visit will fuel his Patronus for the next ten years goddamnit). The implicit trust Harry had in Sirius, the way that he instinctively turned to him for anything and everything just because Sirius was his godfather, the one person fighting in his corner and looking out for him- that’s all gone. Sirius has no idea how to get it back, and he hates himself for it.
He voices all of this one night at the kitchen table over a half-empty bottle of firewhiskey, long after Harry has gone to bed, to Remus, who sighs and buries his face in his hands like he has too many times in the past month.
“He’ll get there,” Remus says tiredly, his voice muffled through his fingers. “Eventually he’ll get comfortable with the house. With us. With you. And the healer’s are working on the blindness. Last I checked they felt promising about the newest potion.”
Sirius relishes the small blaze of hope that fires through his entire body at Remus’ words. Too often over the past year he has spent all his time drowing in his own guilt and despair. The fleeting bits of good that have sprung up in the past couple of months have been a life raft, and Sirius clings to this latest one with all of his strength. Yet something still bothers.
“And his memory?” Sirius asks, wanting Remus to provide all the answers as he has so many times before.
Remus sighs again. “If all else fails, we make new ones. New memories with Harry. You’re still his godfather. I’m still his... whatever. Family friend. You’re still something to him, Sirius. I can tell.”
For once, Sirius decides to take a leap of faith and trust Remus completely, without abandon. Because giving up on Harry, whether or not his godson knows him or not, was never an option and especially not with this .
Series Summary: There are moments in our lives that have a major impact. The interactions, the adventures, and the love, all make up who we are. But when Harry can't remember those moments with YN, they are both left wondering what that means for themselves and their relationship.
Chapter Summary: This is (again) from Harry's point of view. Harry is at a crossroads now and he knows that whatever decision he makes, someone will end up being hurt.
Thank you to @runway-to-my-aid and @behindmygreyeyes for the brainstorm sessions for this chapter!
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Chapter Warnings: Some explicit language, ex-girlfriend, mentions of cheating, ANGST
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It's been a week since Harry has seen YN, and while he would like to say that time is exactly what he has needed to get clarity on this entanglement of his mind, he can't. If anything, it's only made things more difficult. Besides a doctor's appointment and a midday meetup with Tabitha, he has been sitting in his childhood home and alone with the tormenting confusion he has been so desperate to resolve.
He thought the familiarity he feels with Tabitha would instantly make her the one he chooses, but the guilt he is experiencing over the situation with YN has caused him to wonder why he feels it so deeply. He knows that the memories his mind has hidden away would answer that question, but he doesn't know where to find that lock box in his brain. Hell, he doesn't even know if he has the key.
As selfish as it probably is, he can't help but pity himself for how unfair this is on him. At least YN knows how she feels. At least Tabitha knows what she wants. Everything else, the things that change everyone's lives from here on out, are all on him and he has never felt his life more turbulent than it is right now.
He can't decipher what's holding him back. Does he actually want to be with Tabitha, or is the comfort just too difficult to give up? She is sociable and determined, both good qualities that he admires. She is someone he knows, someone he can understand, someone he would be able to jump back into a relationship with. However, even though she stated she wanted what they once had, there hasn't been an extraordinary amount of effort put into rebuilding anything. She can become distant, he has experienced that before, always attributing it to her busy schedule. However, there is a little frustration in Harry, thinking that she should at least try to work this out if it's what she wants. Then again, he could simply be reading too much into all of it due to the stress he is experiencing.
On the other hand, does he want to be with YN, or is he just feeling guilty for being so hesitant with someone who has been so kind to him? It really is amazing the effort she has put into helping him with everything, not just physically, but mentally and emotionally too. She's been abundantly supportive. However, he wonders if it's only due to the accident and his injury. What would happen if they start over again and it isn't as good as it is being made out to be, or he can't be who she expects him to be? What if he doesn't like who she knows him to be?
He finishes his morning coffee and decides that a distraction is something he desperately needs. It's possible that it could help clear his mind, since constantly letting his thoughts and feelings run rampant, yet trying to make sense of them all, is hardly the best technique. An idea pops in his head, and it is something that he knows will, at the very least, allow his mind to temporarily focus on anything but his current turmoil.
•••
"Alright everyone, I know you're excited that Mr. Styles is here, but we are still running class as usual." Sarah states to the students. "Jeremy, come on… just sit down. Drummers keep the beat, man, be a leader."
Harry chuckles as he watches his students compose themselves and get back to their lesson. Edison Academy of Arts was at the top of Harry's list in terms of a career. He loves the structure they implement, allowing him to stay with the same students throughout most of their time at the school. This means, much to Harry's immense pleasure, that he knows the kids in his class. The missing memories are not keeping his love of music and his class from him, and considering everything else he has forgotten, the relief he feels about that fact is overwhelming.
"What've you lot been working on?"
He listens as his students perform pieces they've been practicing, and beams with pride. Finally, he feels some uncomplicated joy. Finally, there is something he does remember and knows that he still has. Finally, there's a moment in his life, since the hospital, where he feels balance and stability.
The bell rings to dismiss for lunch and Harry says goodbye to each student as they walk out. Sarah suggests they go to the teachers lounge to eat but Harry timidly asks if they can stay in the room, not wanting to ruin the peace he feels by getting overwhelmed with questions from the other teachers, as well-intended as they would be.
"So, why are you at your mom's?" Sarah asks, taking a bite into her sandwich and staring at him with an expectant expression.
"Bloody hell, y'just gonna dive right into it, hmm?"
She chuckles as she finishes the food in her mouth, wiping off her hands and staring straight into his eyes. "Well, yeah. What else would we talk about?"
"Literally anything else." He responds, sending her a glare before looking down at his own food and sighing. His moment of joy and balance is quickly dissipating. "I dunno what to say."
"Alright." She states, suddenly softening her tone and her expression. "We don't have to talk about it."
"S'just… I feel like I'm fucked either way."
"What do you mean?"
Her brows quickly furrow in confusion, and Harry's body tenses with the realization that Sarah might not know the details of the situation he is in. The situation he has put both himself and YN in. In fact, as far as he knows, none of his mutual friends with YN know what has been happening.
"Umm… shit." He runs the back of his neck, hoping that the motion will bring him some kind of comfort, or help him to disappear and avoid this conversation. "I… have been having a hard time… choosing…"
"Choosing what…?" The stern expression still plastered all over her face.
"Choosing… who I want to be with…" He admits, immediately dropping his gaze out of shame, as his chest tightens.
Sarah doesn't immediately respond, continuing to stare with the confused expression that had appeared a few moments earlier.
"Like… between YN and… who?"
Harry knows and loves Sarah, and Mitch, and trusts them with so much in his life. He has kept all of this from everyone, but Sarah is someone he does feel he can confide in about this.
"And Tabitha."
She suddenly sits up straight in her chair and presents shock throughout her features. They know him well, more than most of his friends do, but this is something that he is concerned could potentially strain the close friendship they've all had. Because, as much as he knows they love him, it has been made very clear that they love YN just as much.
"You can't be serious, Harry." She shakes her head in disbelief. "Why… why is she even an option?"
He sighs and clears his throat, wishing some sort of residual effects from the accident would cause him to pass out, or combust if possible, and take him away from this awkward conversation. But, as close as they are to YN, he feels as if she can understand his need for familiarity.
"I just know her. Y'know?" He shrugs, looking up to see her understanding, but being met with an even sterner look.
"No! I don't know!" She scolds, causing Harry's body to tense completely, and his breath to momentarily leave his lungs. He was not expecting her to be so upset. "It's stupid!"
"Ease up, Sarah. I remember being with her, and loving her. It's hard to give up the relationship I remember being in."
She scoffs, causing a slight frown to form on Harry's face. He understands her closeness to YN, but she knows Tabitha as well, and he's not asking her to choose between them.
"Okay, so what about YN? You said you're having trouble choosing… so, what about her?"
"YN is…" He pauses, really wanting to be thoughtful about his answer. Not just because he is explaining it to someone who is friends with her, but also because he wants to understand it for himself. "Comfortable… in the way that… that we were able to just hang out and it was good. We didn't, like, have to do anything fancy."
That may have been the first time Harry was able to articulate his feelings and reasoning for wanting to stick around YN.
"Yeah." Sarah responds, a subtle smirk appearing on the side of her mouth furthest from Harry. "That's YN."
"That's what I've been told." He replies, wishing that his memory wouldn't have been taken and he remembered, if only for the reason that this entire situation could be so much easier. He takes a big sigh. "Why does this have to be so difficult?"
Her demeanor quickly changes, at a pace that almost shakes Harry in his seat. She leans forward, the most unreadable expression on her face, and he shifts uncomfortably in his seat.
"I don't know, Harry. I honestly don't know what's wrong with you!"
"What the hell is that s'pose to mean?"
"I just don't understand why this is even something that's confusing to you."
"Because I only remember loving Tabitha…"
"Right. But you also broke up with her…"
"I know. Well, I don't know, but I've been told." He sighs and spins one of the rings on his finger. Everyone remembers this, everyone remembers the hurt and heartbreak he supposedly went through with Tabitha. Everyone except him. "But it's what I know, or remember. I wish I remembered YN, but I don't. Tabitha feels… safe…"
"Safe? What the fuck? She cheated on you!" Sarah states blankly, causing Harry's entire body to freeze. He knows they had some issues at times, every relationship does, and the week before that Christmas Gala had been a bit rough, but this is not something he ever thought possible. He's not even sure Sarah has her facts straight.
"What?... No… She-"
"Didn't you talk to her about this? YN said you met up with her to clear things up!"
He thinks back to that day in the cafe, sitting across from Tabitha, and hearing her explain what happened between the two of them.
"She said I broke it off."
"Yeah, you did. Because she cheated on you." She replies sternly, not necessarily towards him, but seemingly towards his ex.
"She said… fuck… she said I didn't like her working so much-"
"Kudos to her, that isn't completely untrue. But it was because she was fucking her coworker."
What Harry had been worried about with Tabitha, what he had been trying to push aside and blame on the stress of the situation, was all starting to culminate into one big knot in his stomach. He expected sadness to fill him up, but instead it's a pool of anger. She hurt him, then lied about it, and then tried to convince him that they were good together… that they would be good together again.
He immediately stands up, not even feeling fully in control of his body. He thought he knew Tabitha, he thought he remembered Tabitha, he thought his feelings for her were valid and reciprocated. And now, if anything, he feels like an idiot.
"What are you doing?" Sarah asks timidly, a friendly concern apparent in her voice.
Harry's mind is racing, to the point that he doesn't even have a clear answer. Everything since the accident is replaying in his head, and it fuels his anger even more, leaving him unable to solidify any sort of plan before he grabs his things and pushes the chair in.
"Dunno. But I'm going to see her." He growls, quickly glancing at Sarah to see her nod, and turning to leave. "Thanks Sarah."
"I'm always here for you Harry."
•••
After charming his way past the receptionist, Harry stands in front of Tabitha's office door, doing what he can to regulate the rhythm of his chest due to his rapid breathing. He decides she doesn't even deserve the decency of a knock, so he grabs the handle and swings the door wide open.
"Harry!" Tabitha exclaims, a similar shock to Sarah's instantly plastered all over her face.
"You cheated on me." He states, not asking and giving her a chance to deny it.
"Harry…" She begins to reply, motioning him to close the door and sit in the chair on the opposite side of her desk. Harry's body is so tense that he almost doesn't move from his spot, but he isn't one to make a scene in such a public place, so he gives her this one courtesy.
"Tabitha, you told me that I broke up with you. You told me that it was my decision. You told me that I insisted we were different people and that I ended what we had!"
"Yeah." She shrugs, her elbows resting on her desk and her chin propped up by her fists. "It's true…"
"Except you left out the most important part!" He growls, his palms clenching tightly into fists in his lap. Suddenly, for the very first time since the accident, something pops into Harry's mind that he didn't realize was even there to begin with. "It was Devin, wasn't it? It was your boss, Devin!"
She lets out a sigh and his anger rises as he notices a subtle roll of her eyes.
"Yeah. It was."
"I can't fucking believe this." He runs his hand through his hair, shaking it in disbelief. What surprises him about the gesture is that it's not due to her actions, but instead due to how easily he trusted her without question. He just let his desperate desire for normalcy and familiarity blind him from the reality of what their relationship had become. He hid their recent hangouts from his friends, not wanting them to convince him to do otherwise, but he never stopped to think about why he was afraid of them attempting doing so.
"Geez, Harry, what do you want me to say?" She snaps, causing Harry's eyes to send her a heated, piercing glare. She's so casual about this, as if she picked up the wrong kind of cereal from the grocery store.
"How long? I just wanna know how long you were seeing him while we were together."
His knuckles turn white as he grips on to the armrests of the chair. Not that he remembers everything, but he is certain he has never been this angry before, ever. She used him, she took him for granted, and betrayed him. And as he waits for her answer, he feels rage as she bites her lip as she ponders his question and prepares her answer.
"Six months."
"Oh for fucks sake, Tabitha! We were together for just over a year!" He exclaims, once again uncontrollably shooting straight up from the chair. "And for almost half of our relationship you were fucking someone else... Wait…"
A sensation runs through Harry's brain, almost like the tiniest spark has just ignited inside and it almost drops him to the floor. Suddenly, a picture runs through his mind and his heart almost stops beating.
"It was the Christmas Gala…" He almost wants to cry. Not because of the words he is about to say, but because of how he is even capable of saying them. "I found out at the Christmas Gala. That was the night we broke up."
He has finally remembered something.
"Harry… look… yes, I made a mistake, but I still think we can be together again…" She smirks, standing from her own chair and slowly making her way around the desk. She reaches out to grab his arm. "I can end it with him if yo-"
"You're still with him?" He begins to shout, no longer caring about the discretion he wanted to give her earlier. "God you're unbelievable! You're so fucking selfish!"
Suddenly, something else pops into his head. It's not a memory that had once been hidden, but it's of something he had recently experienced. It was of YN. She had never once been selfish since the accident. She took care of him, she never hoarded his time, and she waited as she hoped he would regain his memories and come back to her. As if he didn't already feel like an idiot before, he feels like he didn't even deserve a brain at this point, because he clearly hadn't been using it at all. His chest quickly tightens as he moves out of Tabitha's reach and towards the door. He hurt the one person who, as far as he knows, has never hurt him. Not like this. Definitely not like this.
"Whatever this was going to be, it's not." Harry replies, swinging the door open once again and stepping out, clearing his throat in hopes that he will be loud enough for her coworkers to pick up on. "Try not to sleep your way too high up the corporate ladder, yeah?"
With that, Harry turns around and heads out of the building, feeling another sort of contradictory emotion as he walks a few paces down the street and presses his back against the wall. He is proud of himself for what happened, no longer feeling inferior to the person he was once with, and giving her exactly what she deserves. But there is a hurt there. A hurt, not because of Tabitha, but because of YN. Because he hurt her. Because she deserves way better, and he wants her to know it.
•••
He didn't waste any time heading over to the flat. He doesn't know what he is expecting, except maybe a door slamming in his face, and he doesn't even know what he will say, but he wants YN to at least know that he is sorry for putting her through all of this.
The closer he gets to the building, the more he thinks about how amazing she has been to him, and how comfortable he has actually been with her. He probably won't stop scolding himself for how he let someone from his past, someone who really wasn't good for him, enter back into his life and overshadow everything YN had been giving him.
He likes the comfortable nights they spent having dinner together, watching a show or reading books. Even though they were often on opposite ends of the couch, it always felt easy, and natural. He likes the way she looks at him with a little sparkle in her eye, shying away when he meets her gaze, which he realizes was her way of not forcing herself back into his heart. He likes the way she got excited about the littlest things that meant so much to them, even if he couldn't remember. He definitely regrets snapping at her that night it started raining. He likes how she is so passionate about her work, but never lets it take over her life. He likes how she, from what he's been told, encourages him with his own passions, especially with music. He likes how she gets along with his friends, having made them her own, and bringing a few others into their tight knit group.
He likes YN.
Not for the first time today, he feels like an utter fool. From day one of waking up in the hospital, she has been there for him, and he didn't even give her a full chance. He would say he has been missing out on all those good things, but truthfully, he hasn't. She has been doing them for him the entire time, and he took it all for granted. It wasn't his intention, but it also wasn't right. So no, he wasn't missing out, but he wasn't experiencing it to the fullest. He was too scared to allow himself, which in hindsight seems ridiculous. There's a reason his mum, his sister, and his entire friend group love her so much and tried so hard to get him to see why. Because she was so good. She was so good to him and for him, yet he has been anything but good to her.
He is so deep in his thoughts that he doesn't even realize he is standing in front of the door to the flat. He raises his fist up, no longer having keys to what was once a shared space, but stops and runs his hand through his hair. He doesn't even know what to say, and he doesn't even know if he deserves the chance to anyway.
He takes a big inhale and slowly breathes out, trying to ground himself before he hits his knuckles against the door and waits anxiously for a reply.
He didn't know if he expected YN to be home, but he didn't necessarily expect to see the person that answered his knock.
"Oh god." Adhira states.
"Hey. I know… I mean… I'm sure I'm not anyone's favorite person, but is YN here?" He mutters, suddenly feeling less enthusiastic and confident about this interaction.
"No."
"When will she be back? I just… I have a few things I want to say."
"She's not coming back for another week."
"A week?" Harry replies with a loud, shocked tone. "Where… where did she go?"
"She went to visit with her parents for a bit." Adhira sighs, her gaze flickering all over his figure as he begins to fiddle with his rings, then rub the back of his neck. "Come… come in, Harry."
She moves to the side as Harry walks through the doorway and into the flat. He knows it hasn't been long, but nothing has changed. Even with all of the things he has taken to his mum's, it still looks like the place they had apparently made their home, together. The coffee machine that admittedly didn't make as good of a latte as Way Cup, a few framed photos of them together throughout the last two and a half years, and as he looks over to the couch, he notices his favorite blanket sprawled across the back of it.
"So… are you staying here?" He asks, eyes still fixed on the couch.
"No… I just came to get the mail." She replies. He had forgotten to take the blanket as it had been tucked away out of sight. But seeing it laying out there in the living room, now knowing Adhira wasn't using it, means that YN has been, and the guilt he feels for everything will be what stops him from taking it back. "What are you doing here Harry?"
His eyes snap back over to be met with Adhira's questioning look and he knows the pain he has caused YN has also spread to her friends. Their friends.
"I want to tell her that m'sorry."
"Okay… Sorry for what?" She replies, crossing her arms across her chest. He senses her caution, and her guard of YN, and he can't blame her. She is testing him, to see if he truly knows what he is apologizing for.
"For how I treated her. For how I took her for granted. For how I couldn't make a decision, and it hurt her." He actually feels mildly proud of how quickly and effortlessly he was able to explain himself. With how jumbled his thoughts have been over the past few weeks, this is the clearest he has felt in a long time.
"Okay…"
"Look, Adhira, I told Tabitha we weren't going to be anything. And even if YN never wants…" The sadness he suddenly feels when he begins to make his statement is a little out of left field. He had only just recently realized, or rather acknowledged, that he likes YN, but the thought of her never wanting to see him again made his breathing race faster. He knows he doesn't deserve a chance to start things over with her, but he is now discovering that he wants that chance. "If she never wants to see me again… I just want her to know that I know I fucked up, and m'sorry."
Adhira stands there for a moment, studying his face as he shifts his weight between his legs, unable to stand still for more than just a few moments with the amount of anxiety flowing through his veins.
"Why did you cut it off with Tabitha?" She asks.
"Some things were bothering me. And then Sarah told me that she cheated on me, and I was done."
"You didn't know she cheated on you?" She replies, a wide and seemingly mildly judgemental look on her face.
"No. She lied to me. But I don't wanna get into that. I just wanna talk to YN."
"Well, she's not here. But I don't know if that's a good idea. I think she needs… space… and her own time to think about what it is that she wants now."
Harry's heart stops for a moment. Maybe it's too late. Maybe she already doesn't want to see him anymore. He can't blame her, he did this to her to a much deeper degree, and this is his consequence. But his mouth drops open and he can't hold back what he says next.
"We're supposed to be together." The sentence rolls out, one similar to what she had said to him, that he is supposed to want her.
"This isn't an obligation, Harry. She doesn't want to be that!" Adhira throws her hands down to her hips. "And she doesn't want to be your second choice."
"She's… she's not!" He shouts, instantly becoming aware of his volume and clearing his throat as he tries to compose himself. "I want… I want to be…"
The words get stuck in his throat as his mind begins to swirl again. All the positivity and small amount of hope he had been feeling have disappeared, like his memories, potentially along with his chance to make things right with YN.
"Be with her?" She asks, only being met with a nod. "Harry, she was hurt by not being remembered by you, then she was hurt by not being chosen by you…"
"I know." He lowers his gaze to the ground, feeling as if his body could follow along with it.
"I'm just saying that I don't want to see her get hurt again." She explains, Harry quickly gazing up to see her softened features.
"And I don't want to hurt her again." He whispers. He begins to feel hopeless, and helpless. He shouldn't have hurt her in the first place, it was unintentional, but he doesn't want her to go through anymore. The accident in itself was enough for her to have to deal with, but the stress, the nightmares, and his indecisiveness piled on top was just cruel, and it was his fault. He wants to make things right between them, but he doesn't really know how, and now he definitely doesn't think he deserves the chance to. Because he doesn't want to fail her anymore. "I should… I should go."
"Harry… I'm just-"
"No, s'alright. I get it."
He shoves one hand in his pocket and the other one throws up a little wave.
"Oh. Wait. I've got something for you." Adhira quietly states, jogging into YN's bedroom and returning with two shoeboxes in her hands. "I, umm, I was cleaning her room and found these in the back of the closet… they have your name on them."
He grabs the items and opens the lid of the box on top, seeing a stack of his writing journals inside. They are filled with all sorts of melodies and lyrics for songs, something he turns to a lot when he needs to express himself or an idea just pops in his head. He has a feeling that there is a decent amount in there about Tabitha, but probably way more about YN.
"Thanks." He mumbles. He should've known things would end up this way, without either of the people he had been torn between, even though there was really only one good choice in the first place. He doesn't pity himself. This is what he deserves- slinking out of his old flat, literally caring all of his feelings with him.
•••
A knock on his old bedroom door awakens Harry from a sorrow-induced nap. He honestly never thought he'd feel this low, especially about someone he still doesn't remember before the accident, yet here he was. He hasn't stopped thinking about how truly idiotic he has been, not truly giving his supposed relationship with YN an actual chance. Hindsight is evil in this case, as he becomes so aware of how amazing YN was to him. She really is someone who is beautiful inside and out.
"Harry?" Anne's voice vibrates through the door, pulling him further out of those sleepy, regretful thoughts.
"Come in, Mum." He replies, sitting up and scooting to the edge of the bed.
Anne opens the door with a hot cup of tea in hand, making her way to sit next to her son and offering it to him, which he gladly accepts.
"What's going on, sweetheart?" She asks softly, placing her hand on his shoulder. "You've been grumpy since you moved back, and mopey since you got home today."
The comforting beverage in his hand serves another purpose, keeping Harry from throwing his hands up to his face. Instead, he looks quickly over to his mother, and then straight down to the ground.
"I fucked up."
"How so?" She asks lovingly, though he is fully aware that she can sense some of what is to come in this conversation. Not the details, but certainly the underlying tone.
"With YN. I was such an idiot." He replies, trying to take in a few breaths to keep himself and his thoughts together. Everything has been racing the last few weeks, and he reveled in the slightest relief he had from it as he made his way to the flat today, only for it to be snatched away from him and replaced again by the swirling tornado inside his mind. "I was too scared to try and make it work."
"Why?"
"Honestly, dunno. Afraid of the unknown maybe." He shrugs, disappointed in himself for how he handled it all. "And I let the familiarity of… Tabitha… keep me in that state of fear."
"Tabitha?" Anne replies, a bit of a hiss behind her words. "Harry… no…"
"I know. I know. It was the relationship I could remember, so I grasped onto it. But it was so stupid. I was so stupid." He winces, partially at the recollection of his poor choices, but also in anticipation of a scolding from his mum. Instead, there is silence, which causes him to look over to her. He can see her opening her mouth slightly, only to stay silent, and it makes him feel even worse that his own mother doesn't even know what to say. "Oh god… did you know? Did everyone know?"
"Know what?"
"That Tabitha cheated on me?"
Anne pulls her lips in and Harry notices an apologetic look in her eyes. His stomach knots tighter the longer she stays silent.
"Fuck! So… that means YN knew too…"
Harry suddenly feels as if he's been punched in the stomach as he watches Anne nod, painful to the point that he curls over himself, bending at the waist and almost dropping his cup of tea. YN never said anything about it, though to be fair, she also didn't know that he had been hanging out with Tabitha until recently. But even still, she didn't acknowledge it. No wonder she kicked him out. "I hurt her, Mum. Fuck. Now I dunno if I can make it right."
She places a hand on his thigh and gives it a couple of pats, something she had done throughout his childhood when they were engaged in a serious conversation.
"Harry…" She sighs, turning her body slightly more towards his and giving him a small smile. "I talked to her yesterday…"
He straightens up, unsure how he feels about the statement she just made. Is he hopeful that the connection they have with each other could give him a shot at making things right, or is he afraid that she is now cutting ties with anyone that has a connection with him?
"Y-you did?"
"Yes." She nods, giving his thigh another pat, which only causes his uncertainty to rise to the next level. "I probably shouldn't say anything."
He drops his head. That doesn't sound like a statement that would be positive for him, and he squeezes his eyes shut, letting in a large amount of air into his lungs to attempt to stay somewhat stable.
"Okay." He sighs.
She removes her hand from his thigh and begins to fidget with the hem of her jumper, clearly being the influence of his own nervous habit.
"She still loves you, Harry. Of course. But you're right, she is hurting." She states, looking to Harry with a complicated expression- compassionate yet concerned. "Do you have your memories back?"
He shook his head, furrowing his brow at the reminder of the only lost one he has managed to regain. "Only one, of the break-up with Tabitha."
"So… you want to work it out with her… even though you don't remember her from before?"
"Yeah." He softly mumbles, surprised at how well she communicated that statement. He hadn't thought about it like that. It made a smile form on his face, knowing that it means he truly does like YN, but it quickly disappears knowing that it might not matter anymore.
"Well, maybe not all hope is lost. Give her some time."
He nods, but his stomach turns in knots again and his heart sinks. He told her that he needed time, which created this painful position he finds himself in now. Time wasn't what he should've asked for, and if she ends up needing it herself, he is afraid that it won't end the way he hopes it would.
~~~~~
Series Masterlist
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This is Harry. The love of your life. The man who dragged you outside into a storm because you told him you'd never been kissed in the rain. The man who learned to make your coffee order just so that you could stay just a few extra minutes at home with him before heading to work. The man who sat on the bathroom floor with you, all night, holding you while you cried.
He means everything to you. Everything.
So... how can what they're saying be true?
How can it be true that you mean nothing to him, because he doesn't remember you?
On a chilly day in October, Draco kisses Harry goodbye before he goes on yet another dangerous, undercover mission with the Aurors.
And then Harry doesn't come back.
Only Draco believes that Harry isn't dead, and pours himself into finding his husband despite his friends' pleas to move on and grieve properly. What he finds at the end of that work, though, is not at all what he wanted.
