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A cupboard filled with darkness. Rolled in a ball on the ground, a small boy bites his fist. There’s a furious shout at the door: “Remember no one will ever want you!"

A hand grabs Draco’s, holds it tightly. 
Ripples surround them; the scenery shifts to familiar corridors.
Draco winces. 

"Like anyone would ever want to be close to you, Potter", his younger self spits with a sneer of disgust.

Ripples again. 

In a battered tent, a famished-looking boy sits in a corner. His green eyes are haunted, his hand clutching a paper, his voice a lonely wreck.
“Figures I’d be "The most wanted", now.”

This time, it's Draco’s hand which tightens.
More ripples.

"I’m sorry, Harry. I can't want you the way you want me.”

Draco remembers the scandal: Ginevra Weasley’s coming out, her ex-fiance’s questioning. The hand in his shakes. He squeezes it.

Now an agitated Harry Potter cries at the fireplace, surrounded by torn up remnants of the Prophet .
"It's useless, Hermione! They all want a story with the Chosen One. No one ever wants me ."

Ripples. They’re at the Ministry.

“Disappointed, Malfoy?”
“Why would I? Haven’t I just been paired with the Boy Wonder everyone wants in their team?”
Harry laughs, and now Draco hears the self-deprecative tone he couldn’t understand at the time.

A light breaks through more ripples, the shine from rings reflecting in his own tears.
"Do you, Draco Lucius Malfoy, want to take Harry James Potter in your life forever?"
Draco hears himself answer “I do”; sees the love on his face as he slips the ring on his husband’s finger.

"Why are you showing me all this?" Draco asks, voice choked by the image from earlier that day.
Harry’s eyes are wet but his smile is bright.
"Now we know our destination, I wanted to show you my part of the journey.”

The Pensieve releases them and they stay in each other’s arms, warm, comfortable, wanted .