I Will Remember You

The Girl Under the Hood

The girl was right in front of Harry. All he had to do was reach out and take off her hood, but he was afraid. As soon as the merchant described the way he'd found her, Harry had begun to suspect that she might be someone he knew - maybe even someone that he knew very well.

He even had a suspicion about who she might be, but he didn't want to get his hopes up; she might have been just a girl who was passing by after the battle. But she was screaming Ron's name, and lying on top of his corpse,' Harry thought doubtfully.

"You can take the cloak off," he said to her softly, but she didn't move or speak. He took an uncertain step towards her, but stopped at a couple of feet away.

She didn't draw back, so he took another slow step in her direction. He didn't want to scare her, but she seemed to be either unaware or apathetic about what was happening around her. With one more step he reached her, his face just a few inches away from hers. He still couldn't see her, though, and he needed to know.

He raised his hands and grasped the edges of her hood. Very slowly he slid it off. And then he felt like everything stopped dead - his heart, his breathing, the whole world - when his eyes met two chocolate-brown ones. They were cold and empty, as if all the life had been stripped from them.

Her face was white; her bones were clearly visible under her skin. A mass of bushy brown hair fell all around her face. It was dirty and longer than Harry remembered. Her face, like her hands and feet, was covered with bruises and small wounds.

Harry couldn't speak for several minutes. He just stood there in front of her and gazed at her. She didn't move at all.

"Hermione," he breathed. She didn't so much as blink. He reached out one hand and touched her cheek. It was cold under his fingers. She was like ice; but she still didn't move.

Harry felt a surge of conflicting emotions pass through him. Anger. Happiness. Fear. Shock. Anger. He snatched his hand back. Hermione just stood there, as motionless as ever.

Harry backed out the door without looking away from her. He closed it behind him and leaned against the wall, breathing heavily. Turning his head, he saw the merchant's door. He ran down the hall and banged on it furiously.

"Open the door, you bastard," he yelled.

A moment later, the merchant opened the door with that same slimy smile. "Ah," he said sweetly. "What did she do? I told you that she was stran-"

But before he could finish his sentence, Harry punched him in the nose, hard. He flew backwards, landing on the floor. Harry grabbed his cloak and dragged him back to his feet. "What did you do to her?" he demanded.

"W-what do you mean?" asked the merchant, lifting both hands to his face. His nose was bleeding freely.

"You said you saved her life, but she's covered with bruises and cuts. She's skeleton-thin and she won't talk, she won't even move. What did you do to her?" asked Harry, still shouting.

"I-I - all I did was a Memory Charm," the merchant stammered.

"And why she is covered with wounds?" Harry asked angrily, pulling the merchant's face even closer.

"Y-you have to understand, there aren't many girls left since the Battle. I-I'm a man, I've n-needs -and she is particularly pretty," stammered the merchant.

"Pervert," Harry spat, horrified. "And why doesn't she react or speak when she's spoken to?"

"I-it must be the Memory Charm," answered the merchant in an unconvincing tone. "I-I'm sure that if you go back to her, she will be more favorably disposed towards you with time."

Harry knew that a Memory Charm didn't have that effect on people, but he was worried about leaving Hermione alone for too long. So he let go of the man's cloak, dropping him back onto the floor. With a final angry glare, he left the room and hurried back to his own.

***

The merchant crawled to his bed and struggled to climb onto it. When he had finally managed to pull himself up to sit on the bed, he shot an evil look at the door Harry had just exited from.

"Fool," he said out loud, smirking. "You shouldn't have done that to me." He touched the blood under his nose. "You are going to pay for it, oh yes you are. You will come to the same bad end as the others."

He closed his eyes and cleaned his bleeding nose with his wand. 'Slave,' he thought, 'speak, move, eat, drink. Do whatever he pleases, but when night falls, do what you know you must to do.' Then he opened his eyes and laughed evilly.

***

When Harry entered his room, he was surprised to see that Hermione was sitting on his bed, staring at the floor disinterestedly. Harry walked to the bed and sat next to her. She turned to face him, her cold, empty eyes filled with pain.

"Hermione," he said. Hermione gave no sign that she understood. He thought that her odd behaviour might be due to the Memory Charm - Lockhart didn't know who he was either, he remembered.

"Do you know your name?" he asked her. She shook her head. "What did that man call you?"

"Who? My owner?"

Harry felt a shiver run down his back. It was Hermione's voice, and yet it was different. It was as cold and empty as her eyes were. She sounded dead. He nodded, trying to look calm.

"He called me 'slave'," Hermione replied.

"But didn't he give you a proper name?"

Hermione shook her head again.

"I know what your name is," said Harry, smiling. "It's Hermione."

"How do you know?" she asked, looking him in the eye for the first time.

For a moment Harry thought he saw a flicker of life in her face.

"Because we were friends. We went to school together - do you know what a school is?" he added, seeing her quizzical look. She shook her head. He thought for a moment. "It's a place where children learn things."

"What did we learn?"

Harry stared at her, trying to figure out what was going on. He wasn't sure if the more she spoke happier he was, or if the happier he was, the more she wanted to speak. He couldn't tell if she was really interested in their conversation, or if she was just trying to please him.

"What did we learn?" she repeated, snapping Harry out of his thoughts.

"A lot of things," he replied. "Potions, Transfiguration, Charms, everything that would have been useful for our future and our careers. You and I worked together, too. We worked with Ron - do you remember Ron?" he asked hopefully.

She shook her head again.

"He was our best friend," Harry said miserably. She might not remember Ron, but Harry remembered too well.

"He was? Is he dead?" she asked. Harry nodded. "How?" she asked, lowering her voice.

Harry stood up quickly. He hadn't told anyone about what had happened during the last Battle. It hurt too much.

Hermione started to shake, and Harry realized that she thought she had made him angry, and she was frightened.

"I'm sorry," she said in an imploring tone of voice, "I-I'm sorry. I didn't mean to displease you." Then she threw herself at his feet.

Harry looked down at her, bemused. After a moment, he stooped and took her by her arms, drawing her gently to her feet. She was sobbing quietly.

"Hermione," Harry said, caressing her dirty hair, "you didn't displease me. It's just something I'm not ready to talk about, okay?" Hermione nodded and wiped the tears from her cheeks, still sniffling a little.

"Well, I think that you need to take a bath. How long has it been since you had one?" he asked, smiling.

Hermione shrugged. "I don't think I've ever taken a bath - what is a bath?"

Harry was startled by her question, but replied, "Well, you wash yourself with water and soap to the dirt off of your skin and your hair - do you want to take a bath, then?"

"Yes, can you show me how it works?" Hermione asked.

Harry flushed red. "N-no, I can't. But all you have to do is sit down in warm water. If you want I can get it ready for you," he stammered.

Hermione nodded, so he went into the bathroom to fill the tub. Hermione followed him, and watched Harry turn the water on.

"Oh, I almost forgot. There's no hot water, we'll need a bit of magic to heat it up," he said, returning to the bedroom to grab his wand.

"Magic?" asked Hermione curiously.

"You know what magic is, don't you?" asked Harry, fearing the answer. He didn't want to frighten her by doing magic if she didn't know what it was.

To his surprise and relief, Hermione nodded. "I know what magic is, but my owner said that only he could do magic."

Harry felt his anger rise once again. "He lied. This world is full of wizards and witches that can do magic. You can do magic yourself." He kept his eyes on the tub, watching the water rise.

Hermione looked like she wanted to ask something else, but she didn't have the chance because Harry had closed the tap and was muttering a charm to heat the water.

"Here you are," he said cheerfully. "You can take off that dirty cloak and then you can undr-" he stopped, shocked. Hermione had taken off her cloak and was standing in front of him, completely naked. He turned away quickly as soon as he recovered from the shock.

"S-sorry," he mumbled, "I-I didn't know that you - but didn't you wear anything else under the cloak?"

"No," she answered simply.

"And don't you have other clothes?"

"No. My owner threw them away."

"Okay, okay. I'll go look for something that you can wear. Take your bath in the meantime," he said hastily, passing by her with his eyes closed, feeling about for the door.

When he passed her, Hermione said, "Thank you." A second later, she added, "You didn't tell me your name, yet."

Harry realized that she was right; it must have slipped his mind, or else it hadn't really sunk in that she didn't remember who she was. "My name is Harry," he said. "Harry Potter."

"Well, thank you very much, Harry Potter," she said.

Harry left the bathroom and closed the door behind him, his heart beating furiously. He waited for his pulse to return to normal before heading for Tom's room. Maybe the innkeeper could lend him some clothes for Hermione to wear.