Amnesia

The air was sultry and stuffy. Clouds of smoke were hovering everywhere, but she didn't mind, as her eyes were almost closed by now. Her whole focus was on the Whiskey glass in front of her. She stirred it with the straw, her head resting on her right palm, and watched the cubes of ice dance around.

The loud, monotonous din of the music kept roaring in her mind.

'What, all alone?' someone suddenly roared near her.

She started up, and it took her some moments to focus on the man next to her.

'Yeah,' she yelled, but the young man just kept staring at her blankly. No surprise, as her voice was hoarse and surely not loud enough to drown out the loud music. It seemed as if the last few hours, which she had dedicated herself to alcohol and screaming the songs' lyrics, had affected her voice rather badly and more than she had thought.

The blue eyes of the man were still piercing her. She was sure she knew him. If only she had drunken less alcohol! Then she certainly would remember his name.

At last, when she remembered that she had not yet responded, at least not comprehensibly, she nodded.

'Fancy a dance?' the man screamed. Again, it took her a moment just to understand the question. Then she nodded once more.

He pulled her up - they both ignored the fact that they knocked down the desk and shattered the whiskey glass - and dragged her onto the dance floor. Only now, that she had to stay upright, she realised the level of alcohol in her blood. It wasn't exactly dancing what she did, rather staggering, but the blue-eyed guy didn't comment her dancing style.

All the faces rushing past her, the rays of light that bolted through the darkness, the heat rising in her - finally she sank into the arms of her dancing partner.

Her feet just wouldn't carry her anymore, and someone had shoved her right into his arms. So quickly... Smiling he helped her up and both of them stumbled away from the dance floor. Exhausted, they sat down on two chairs and laid their heads on the tabletop to rest. Happily she closed her eyes to relax for a few seconds.

'You tired?' She heard his voice, all of sudden quiet and gentle. Yet she was able to hear him. Strange. She opened her eyes and saw that he had leaned closer to her.

She merely moved her head.

He seemed to interpret that as a yes. He lowered his head, even closer to her now. 'You know, we could go...'

He placed his hand on her waist.

Once again, she closed her eyes and imagined for a moment it would have been him who had touched her like that. She felt a pleasant tingle in her stomach.

But it wasn't him - he had forgotten how she was for a long time now - didn't care whether she felt good or bad - had lied to her - excluded her from his life...

She reopened her eyes and saw his extraordinary blue ones.

A familiar face...

It couldn't be too bad then, could it?

For a last time, she nodded and he smiled broadly.

'Are we gonna go to your or my place?'

She lifted her head and turned his, so she could whisper, 'Your's.'

He helped her to stand up and together they left the Leaky Cauldron. It was pleasantly chilly out there, with a clear sky. Street lamps bathed everything in their yellowish light.

She leaned on him.

'Is it far?' she asked, snuggling up to his shoulder.

'No... My apartment's just round the corner.'

'Good,' she said. 'Will you guide me?'

'Gladly.' Pulling her to himself, he laid his arm on her shoulders. 'Like this?'

'Yeah, like this...' she said, leaning onto his warm torso. 'It's good this way...'

****

It was the sun that woke her up the next day. And her thick head. Pressing her fingertips against her temples, she started massaging them. When it wouldn't improve, she got up. She had to lean on the bedside table until she could see clearly.

Then she startled.

Damned. Damned. She wasn't at home. Neither was this her boyfriend lying in the bed. Her boyfriend did not have dark hair. Neither had he such broad shoulders.

And she was - naked. At once she forgot her headache - how could she possibly have done this? To accompany a complete stranger to his apartment and maybe even to...

No, she couldn't have done that. Her common sense should have forbidden her! She - the perfect! Who had never done something rash! She, who always knew everything and was always able to advise everyone - she?

No, that wasn't her. That was what she showed the world. But really she was -

No, don't think about it. Don't lose your self-control. No more alcohol, never! She was happy, she had a boyfriend...

... whom she cheated on. Bloody, what should she do?

The man on the bed moved.

Now, she had to go. And simply act as if she would have never been here. Just go home, to her friend, who waited for her... Where were her clothes? Over there, in the corner - yes, her skirt, her blouse...

She started getting dressed at once.

'Whacha doin'?'

She winced when someone behind her yawned.

'I'm going,' she said while she buttoned up her blouse.

'Why? Didn't you like it, yesterday? You're sure you don't want a tea or something?'

'No, thanks. I'll just go, right?'

She turned for the door and froze.

One catastrophe was followed by the next! Yet again her head started throbbing. For heaven's sake, not him!

Theodore Nott, son of a Death Eater - well, good looking son -, was sitting on the bed, completely uncovered, looking at her with his bright blue eyes.

Of course she knew him, how wouldn't she? At Hogwarts he had been in the same year as herself, only he had been a Slytherin. She had barley noticed him in her first years, few did. But in the last school year he'd had girls for every day of the week - he'd been in the Slytherin Quidditch team, top pupil in Slytherin... And now she was this Sunday's breakfast pie for him.

But Theodore seemed to be no less surprised than her. All of a sudden, he leered and got up.

'Well, well, whom do I see? Gosh, I didn't recognise you yesterday - you neither, did you? Funny how alcohol can change our principles, Mudblood.'

'Please, put on something,' she said and threw her pullover at him.

'You didn't mind during the night, did you?' His eyes gleamed - not malicious, rather challenging. 'But if you give me your pullover, I should give you something, too, shouldn't I? Out of pure courtesy.'

Now he was mocking at her; laughing he threw a green-silver Slytherin tie at her. She caught it.

'I'll go,' she repeated approaching the front door. Theodore, however, barred her way.

'No need to haste, little Gryffindor,' he said. She didn't like the way he stressed her former house at all. That something in his eyes had changed, and she liked it even less. 'No need to haste - you know, I could kill you?'

She rolled her eyes. 'Yes, of course I know, and that you wouldn't be punished, that you could make me disappear - but be warned, I'm not bad at jinxes and hexes as well!'

'Of course you're not,' Theodore answered. 'Head Girl, best N.E.W.T-results since - what, fifty years?'

'But what use was it? I've slept with Theodore Nott, one night, have cheated on my boyfriend, betrayed my friends, made all my enemies laugh at me - I don't want to be the poor little girl that needs to be protected! I want to live my life just like I want to, I do not want to be lied at nor betrayed, just because someone thinks I can't cope with the truth! I can defend myself if I want to!

'And now I'll go!'

She left Theodore Nott's apartment with a determined expression, careful not to walk to fast or to slow, but as soon as she had reached the staircase and could no longer be seen by him, she broke into a run. She ran down the stairs, through the front door of the house and was out in the street.

Suddenly she heard a voice. 'Granger, look out!'

Still running, she turned and saw Nott standing at a window in the fifth floor. He was staring hostilely at her.

A sudden roaring of an engine, and less then one second later she felt a fierce pain on the left side of her torso. She fell to the ground and her head hit the hard asphalt. Everything went dark.

Hermione Granger was unconscious.