Ravenna C. Tan: Amnesia 4 (Draco/Harry, PG)
Title: Amnesia, Pt. 4 of 6
Author: ravenna_c_tan
Rating: PG (this segment)
Prompt Set: 50.1
Prompt: #26 "Friends"
Word Count: 2118 (this segment)
Summary: Harry's friends lend a hand in recovering his lost memory. Part 4 of 6, completed.
Warnings: None in this part.
Beta-reader: miraba
Notes: A six-part fic, each one for a different prompt in my 100quills prompt table.
Previous Chapters: Blank, Who?, Parents
Current Chapter:
I woke up in the morning with no guardian in my room. My wand was on the night table and I didn't remember my dreams, only the feeling they gave me of my mind being whole. Before dropping off to sleep last night, I had read some of Malfoy's book on magical mind maladies, and although I didn't understand a lot of the more technical points, one thing did sink in. Our minds don't like having things wrong with them, and we each have a natural ability to cover over the problem, or to even become blind to our own problems, because we cope better by pretending that everything is working correctly.
I knew my memory had been blanked out by some kind of dark curse. If there was any chance of getting it back, I had to remember that. If I just acted like the hole wasn't there, I might get used to it and it would be that way forever.
Familiar things, familiar people, they were supposed to help bring the memories back. They had some case studies of people who were complete amnesiacs, but just the right trigger brought it all back. One fellow who had lost his memory in the war against Grindelwald regained it all when he was given a toy cat he had played with as a child. A witch who had lost hers because of a cursed object got hers back when she was taken to her husband's grave. I got out of bed and examined the room. My bedroom. I opened the top drawer of the dresser and looked at the balled up socks. The drawer below it was stuffed with jumpers that were clearly mine because they had my initials on them. T-shirts, jeans, the drawers had lots more clothes that looked like the ones Kingsley had brought me to wear in the hospital. My clothes. I got dressed, vaguely disappointed that I hadn't hidden anything in the sock drawer, the discovery of which would be a secret talisman to unlock my past. Yeah, right. Well, maybe I had somewhere better than a sock drawer to hide things in, anyway.
I went next to a tall wardrobe and opened it. Inside were drawers and a bar on which were hung shirts and trousers, neatly pressed. I ran my hand on the flawless white linen of a shirtsleeve. I pulled it out by the hanger and looked at it. This couldn't be mine. The sleeves were too long. I looked at the trousers, too. Too long for me. The drawers held more socks, undershirts... did I have an older brother or something?
A gentle knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
"Come in," I said, and turned to see a brown-haired witch with a wide smile on her face, followed by a red-haired wizard who was holding in his smile while looking at me with concern. "Let me guess. Ron, and..." I felt my mind falter. "Damn it. I remember you from the hospital. Molly told me..."
"It's okay, Harry," the witch said, taking me by the hands and then hugging me tightly. "It's Hermione," she added, seemingly not the slightest bit chagrined. "And it's really great to see you, even if..."
"Even if you don't remember a bloody thing!" Ron strode forward and shook my hand, then pulled me into an embrace, too.
"Good to see you guys, too," I answered. These two did feel very familiar. Comfortable. No strange hostile feelings. Though nothing came flooding back, either.
"Mum's making lunch," Ron said then. "Downstairs."
"Lunch?" I shook my head to clear the last of the sleepiness from it. "I slept a long time."
"Sleeping's supposed to be good for you," Hermione said, as we trekked down to the kitchen.
Soon, my brain was beginning to feel as full as my stomach, as we were halfway done with our sandwiches and Hermione was still talking. Apparently she'd read not only the whole book I had upstairs, but a few dozen others, too, about memory loss and magic. I shot Ron a look when it seemed like she was never going to run out of steam and he responded with a quiet, "Oh, yeah, mate. She's always like this. You'll get used to it."
Which comment caused Hermione to break off and make a face at us. "Now, Harry, I've devised a lesson plan for you." She pulled a notebook out of her bag and put it on the table. "I consulted with the Hogwarts curriculum and depending on how fast you go..."
"Enough talking, Hermione. Can't you see he's itching to just try something?"
I had my wand in my hand.
"Let's go up to the drawing room for this," Hermione said, with a glance at Mrs. Weasley. "Thanks for lunch, Molly!"
"Anytime, dears. Do give a shout if you need any help."
In the drawing room, Hermione put a single quill in the middle of the tea table, then indicated I should sit in the chair. I sat down and stared at the quill. Could she have used magic...? "So, how did you know?"
"How did I know what?"
"Yesterday, I tried to levitate a quill. Just to see if I could."
She and Ron exchanged a glance. "That's really interesting, Harry," Hermione said, pulling a wingback chair closer and sitting in it. "I think it means you must subconsciously remember something."
"Why? Kingsley levitated me, so I figured if he could do me, something light like a feather should be easy."
"It was the very first lesson we ever did in charms," Hermione went on, as if I hadn't spoken. "And it was one of the first spells you got good at. I don't think it was a coincidence. So what happened?"
"Oh, er, with the feather?" I felt my cheeks reddening.
"Yes, with the feather..."
"Oh, I, um, set a pile of parchment on fire."
Ron burst out laughing at that.
"Oh, like you've never done that, Ron," Hermione scolded. Then she turned to me again. "First off, don't hold your wand too tightly. This charm works best with a swish and flick motion..."
Well, with just a little prompting, it turned out I could do it. In fact, within an hour I had not only levitated the feather, but the table, and even the couch with Ron lying on it. When I let Ron down, Hermione declared the lesson a success. "Good work, Harry. Now take a look at this." She pulled out a copy of her first year Charms text. "I think you should be able to master everything in the first year curriculum within a month. In your lesson plan I've marked the spells you're most likely to find useful right away, though, in case you want to start with those."
Then she pulled out what looked like a small crystal ball. "And this will help you get caught up on current events." She put it in my palm, tapped it with her wand, and said "Relectus." The ball flared brightly and what looked like a page of the Daily Prophet flickered in the air in front of me. "It's a Re-reader. It's got every issue of the Prophet from the past five years in it. It starts automatically with the earliest one, and you can search it. You can get the instructions by saying 'Relectus Doctrina.'"
This was better than any history book. I put it down on the table, the flickering projection of the paper steadying as it came to rest. "That's brilliant, Hermione. Thanks."
"I wanted to bring you something, too," Ron said. "But they made me wait."
"He's not ready for that yet, Ron." Hermione looked at me. "Sorry, I know you hate it when we talk like you're not here. But you're not ready to try flying yet, Harry."
"Flying?" Just saying the word made my heart leap.
"I've got your broom," Ron explained. "You lent it to me a while back. And I think it's probably one of the things that's going to jog your memory best. You're a brilliant flyer, Harry. The best. And you always said you felt... the most like yourself on your broom. No cares, no worries..." He realized he was babbling and sank back onto the couch. "I thought we could go back to the Burrow and give it a try."
I looked at Hermione. "Why wouldn't I be ready to try it? Is it hard?"
"Not for you, it's not," Ron said.
Hermione shot him a look. "Well, you did progress much faster today than I thought you would... but still, Harry. Aren't you tired?"
"I slept twelve hours last night. I'm not the slightest bit tired." That wasn't actually true. All the levitation had made me a little fatigued, though it didn't show. "Where's the Burrow?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Wow, you really don’t remember anything. Right now, we're in the middle of Muggle London, can't just go flying about on a broom here where we might be seen. But the Burrow's out the country." Then seeing the question on my face he added. "But just a quick trip by Floo. C'mon, Hermione. We can nip over there, give it a try, and be back here for supper."
"Oh, all right." She stood up. "But let's not overdo it, okay? And don't be disappointed if it doesn't work the first time," she said as we trooped down to the kitchen to use the grate there.
Ron snorted. "Just because you couldn't even get your broom off the ground for the first ten minutes doesn't mean Harry'll be like that..."
But he broke off as I shushed him. There were voices coming from the kitchen. I sidled up to the door, which was open slightly, and tried to look in. I could see Molly Weasley, sitting at the table with a pot of tea in front of her. She was holding someone's hand, someone who was out of my view.
"There, there, dear," she was saying. "Surely it's just a matter of time?"
A male voice answered. "Do you really believe that?"
"I think it's entirely too soon to give up, " she said. "Harry's always come through before."
"You should have heard what my father's ghost said. My mother, too. I can't go back there tonight, Molly. As far as they're concerned, this is the best thing that ever happened to Harry. And me."
Molly patted the hand. "Poor Harry's just confused is all..."
"Confused? He hates me! He attacked me last night, Molly and it's just a good thing he hasn't remembered any of his spells or he would have probably split me open like he did Sixth Year."
My hair stood on the back of his neck. So that was Malfoy in there. And I had attacked him once before? When we were in school? What really gave me goose bumps, though, was the sound of Malfoy crying. I felt like someone were reaching into my chest and squeezing my heart.
I glanced back at the other two, who stared at me with these dumb, stricken looks. I had the same look on my face, I think.
The sound of a chair scraping the stone floor drew my attention back to the kitchen. Malfoy was speaking again. "I know it's not a good idea for me to stay here. I'll just pop upstairs and grab some clothes, and then I'll... I'll go to the Leaky Cauldron for a few days."
"If you're sure..." Molly started to say, but the crack of Disapparition cut her off.
I waited a few seconds before pushing the door open, though I was at a loss for what to say. Malfoy confused me utterly and Molly obviously was being nice to him, so I couldn't very well go on a tirade about him, could I? Should I apologize for attacking him? I couldn't figure it out.
Fortunately I had friends to come to my rescue.
"Hi, Mum," Ron said. "Um, we're just off to the Burrow for a bit."
"Yes," said Hermione. "Harry's absolutely speeding through Charms and we wondered if maybe your garden would be a better place to practice. More room, you know."
"Well, you know best, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'm going to put supper on here, so be back in time for that. Arthur and Kingsley are joining us and that should be good for Harry, don't you think, Harry?"
"Um, brilliant. See you then." I gave Mrs. Weasley a peck on the cheek like the one Ron gave her earlier. Then after a quick explanation of how the Floo network worked, because I didn't remember, off we went.
--
Next Prompt: Picture. Wizard photographs don't lie.
Author: ravenna_c_tan
Rating: PG (this segment)
Prompt Set: 50.1
Prompt: #26 "Friends"
Word Count: 2118 (this segment)
Summary: Harry's friends lend a hand in recovering his lost memory. Part 4 of 6, completed.
Warnings: None in this part.
Beta-reader: miraba
Notes: A six-part fic, each one for a different prompt in my 100quills prompt table.
Previous Chapters: Blank, Who?, Parents
Current Chapter:
I woke up in the morning with no guardian in my room. My wand was on the night table and I didn't remember my dreams, only the feeling they gave me of my mind being whole. Before dropping off to sleep last night, I had read some of Malfoy's book on magical mind maladies, and although I didn't understand a lot of the more technical points, one thing did sink in. Our minds don't like having things wrong with them, and we each have a natural ability to cover over the problem, or to even become blind to our own problems, because we cope better by pretending that everything is working correctly.
I knew my memory had been blanked out by some kind of dark curse. If there was any chance of getting it back, I had to remember that. If I just acted like the hole wasn't there, I might get used to it and it would be that way forever.
Familiar things, familiar people, they were supposed to help bring the memories back. They had some case studies of people who were complete amnesiacs, but just the right trigger brought it all back. One fellow who had lost his memory in the war against Grindelwald regained it all when he was given a toy cat he had played with as a child. A witch who had lost hers because of a cursed object got hers back when she was taken to her husband's grave. I got out of bed and examined the room. My bedroom. I opened the top drawer of the dresser and looked at the balled up socks. The drawer below it was stuffed with jumpers that were clearly mine because they had my initials on them. T-shirts, jeans, the drawers had lots more clothes that looked like the ones Kingsley had brought me to wear in the hospital. My clothes. I got dressed, vaguely disappointed that I hadn't hidden anything in the sock drawer, the discovery of which would be a secret talisman to unlock my past. Yeah, right. Well, maybe I had somewhere better than a sock drawer to hide things in, anyway.
I went next to a tall wardrobe and opened it. Inside were drawers and a bar on which were hung shirts and trousers, neatly pressed. I ran my hand on the flawless white linen of a shirtsleeve. I pulled it out by the hanger and looked at it. This couldn't be mine. The sleeves were too long. I looked at the trousers, too. Too long for me. The drawers held more socks, undershirts... did I have an older brother or something?
A gentle knock on the door interrupted my thoughts.
"Come in," I said, and turned to see a brown-haired witch with a wide smile on her face, followed by a red-haired wizard who was holding in his smile while looking at me with concern. "Let me guess. Ron, and..." I felt my mind falter. "Damn it. I remember you from the hospital. Molly told me..."
"It's okay, Harry," the witch said, taking me by the hands and then hugging me tightly. "It's Hermione," she added, seemingly not the slightest bit chagrined. "And it's really great to see you, even if..."
"Even if you don't remember a bloody thing!" Ron strode forward and shook my hand, then pulled me into an embrace, too.
"Good to see you guys, too," I answered. These two did feel very familiar. Comfortable. No strange hostile feelings. Though nothing came flooding back, either.
"Mum's making lunch," Ron said then. "Downstairs."
"Lunch?" I shook my head to clear the last of the sleepiness from it. "I slept a long time."
"Sleeping's supposed to be good for you," Hermione said, as we trekked down to the kitchen.
Soon, my brain was beginning to feel as full as my stomach, as we were halfway done with our sandwiches and Hermione was still talking. Apparently she'd read not only the whole book I had upstairs, but a few dozen others, too, about memory loss and magic. I shot Ron a look when it seemed like she was never going to run out of steam and he responded with a quiet, "Oh, yeah, mate. She's always like this. You'll get used to it."
Which comment caused Hermione to break off and make a face at us. "Now, Harry, I've devised a lesson plan for you." She pulled a notebook out of her bag and put it on the table. "I consulted with the Hogwarts curriculum and depending on how fast you go..."
"Enough talking, Hermione. Can't you see he's itching to just try something?"
I had my wand in my hand.
"Let's go up to the drawing room for this," Hermione said, with a glance at Mrs. Weasley. "Thanks for lunch, Molly!"
"Anytime, dears. Do give a shout if you need any help."
In the drawing room, Hermione put a single quill in the middle of the tea table, then indicated I should sit in the chair. I sat down and stared at the quill. Could she have used magic...? "So, how did you know?"
"How did I know what?"
"Yesterday, I tried to levitate a quill. Just to see if I could."
She and Ron exchanged a glance. "That's really interesting, Harry," Hermione said, pulling a wingback chair closer and sitting in it. "I think it means you must subconsciously remember something."
"Why? Kingsley levitated me, so I figured if he could do me, something light like a feather should be easy."
"It was the very first lesson we ever did in charms," Hermione went on, as if I hadn't spoken. "And it was one of the first spells you got good at. I don't think it was a coincidence. So what happened?"
"Oh, er, with the feather?" I felt my cheeks reddening.
"Yes, with the feather..."
"Oh, I, um, set a pile of parchment on fire."
Ron burst out laughing at that.
"Oh, like you've never done that, Ron," Hermione scolded. Then she turned to me again. "First off, don't hold your wand too tightly. This charm works best with a swish and flick motion..."
Well, with just a little prompting, it turned out I could do it. In fact, within an hour I had not only levitated the feather, but the table, and even the couch with Ron lying on it. When I let Ron down, Hermione declared the lesson a success. "Good work, Harry. Now take a look at this." She pulled out a copy of her first year Charms text. "I think you should be able to master everything in the first year curriculum within a month. In your lesson plan I've marked the spells you're most likely to find useful right away, though, in case you want to start with those."
Then she pulled out what looked like a small crystal ball. "And this will help you get caught up on current events." She put it in my palm, tapped it with her wand, and said "Relectus." The ball flared brightly and what looked like a page of the Daily Prophet flickered in the air in front of me. "It's a Re-reader. It's got every issue of the Prophet from the past five years in it. It starts automatically with the earliest one, and you can search it. You can get the instructions by saying 'Relectus Doctrina.'"
This was better than any history book. I put it down on the table, the flickering projection of the paper steadying as it came to rest. "That's brilliant, Hermione. Thanks."
"I wanted to bring you something, too," Ron said. "But they made me wait."
"He's not ready for that yet, Ron." Hermione looked at me. "Sorry, I know you hate it when we talk like you're not here. But you're not ready to try flying yet, Harry."
"Flying?" Just saying the word made my heart leap.
"I've got your broom," Ron explained. "You lent it to me a while back. And I think it's probably one of the things that's going to jog your memory best. You're a brilliant flyer, Harry. The best. And you always said you felt... the most like yourself on your broom. No cares, no worries..." He realized he was babbling and sank back onto the couch. "I thought we could go back to the Burrow and give it a try."
I looked at Hermione. "Why wouldn't I be ready to try it? Is it hard?"
"Not for you, it's not," Ron said.
Hermione shot him a look. "Well, you did progress much faster today than I thought you would... but still, Harry. Aren't you tired?"
"I slept twelve hours last night. I'm not the slightest bit tired." That wasn't actually true. All the levitation had made me a little fatigued, though it didn't show. "Where's the Burrow?"
Ron rolled his eyes. "Wow, you really don’t remember anything. Right now, we're in the middle of Muggle London, can't just go flying about on a broom here where we might be seen. But the Burrow's out the country." Then seeing the question on my face he added. "But just a quick trip by Floo. C'mon, Hermione. We can nip over there, give it a try, and be back here for supper."
"Oh, all right." She stood up. "But let's not overdo it, okay? And don't be disappointed if it doesn't work the first time," she said as we trooped down to the kitchen to use the grate there.
Ron snorted. "Just because you couldn't even get your broom off the ground for the first ten minutes doesn't mean Harry'll be like that..."
But he broke off as I shushed him. There were voices coming from the kitchen. I sidled up to the door, which was open slightly, and tried to look in. I could see Molly Weasley, sitting at the table with a pot of tea in front of her. She was holding someone's hand, someone who was out of my view.
"There, there, dear," she was saying. "Surely it's just a matter of time?"
A male voice answered. "Do you really believe that?"
"I think it's entirely too soon to give up, " she said. "Harry's always come through before."
"You should have heard what my father's ghost said. My mother, too. I can't go back there tonight, Molly. As far as they're concerned, this is the best thing that ever happened to Harry. And me."
Molly patted the hand. "Poor Harry's just confused is all..."
"Confused? He hates me! He attacked me last night, Molly and it's just a good thing he hasn't remembered any of his spells or he would have probably split me open like he did Sixth Year."
My hair stood on the back of his neck. So that was Malfoy in there. And I had attacked him once before? When we were in school? What really gave me goose bumps, though, was the sound of Malfoy crying. I felt like someone were reaching into my chest and squeezing my heart.
I glanced back at the other two, who stared at me with these dumb, stricken looks. I had the same look on my face, I think.
The sound of a chair scraping the stone floor drew my attention back to the kitchen. Malfoy was speaking again. "I know it's not a good idea for me to stay here. I'll just pop upstairs and grab some clothes, and then I'll... I'll go to the Leaky Cauldron for a few days."
"If you're sure..." Molly started to say, but the crack of Disapparition cut her off.
I waited a few seconds before pushing the door open, though I was at a loss for what to say. Malfoy confused me utterly and Molly obviously was being nice to him, so I couldn't very well go on a tirade about him, could I? Should I apologize for attacking him? I couldn't figure it out.
Fortunately I had friends to come to my rescue.
"Hi, Mum," Ron said. "Um, we're just off to the Burrow for a bit."
"Yes," said Hermione. "Harry's absolutely speeding through Charms and we wondered if maybe your garden would be a better place to practice. More room, you know."
"Well, you know best, Hermione," said Mrs. Weasley. "I'm going to put supper on here, so be back in time for that. Arthur and Kingsley are joining us and that should be good for Harry, don't you think, Harry?"
"Um, brilliant. See you then." I gave Mrs. Weasley a peck on the cheek like the one Ron gave her earlier. Then after a quick explanation of how the Floo network worked, because I didn't remember, off we went.
--
Next Prompt: Picture. Wizard photographs don't lie.