Memories

Chapter Two

"What is this?!"

"Harry if you don't calm down -"

"How am I supposed to calm down?" asked Harry, breathing fast and shallow. "What's going on?!"

"We've been trying to figure that out, Harry," said Doctor Wallace calmly. "The reason why we haven't stopped your breathing machine in this past year and a half is because we've had sudden happenings in here."

"L-like what?" Harry uttered nervously.

"You know that unusual brain activity?" asked the nurse. "Sometimes - I would walk in here and everything around you would be floating."

"Floating?"

"Yes, floating," said the nurse. "And it happened more than once, too. And more than once you opened your eyes - but you wouldn't respond to us - there's been no -"

"T-that still doesn't explain what's going on," said Harry nervously.

"We don't know and we may never know if you don't get your memory back," said Doctor Wallace.

"But we have to release you soon," said the nurse.

"Release me - but I-I have no where to go!" said Harry.

"We figure you could start with the photo," said the Doctor. "But we can't keep you here any longer, Harry."

"B-but -"

Suddenly, the medicine cups, the wand, and various other items began to float around them. An odd pair of headphones with a round attachment soared past Harry, while a pen flew around Nurse Emma's torso, then in a high arc over the bed.

"Harry - you're doing it again!" said Doctor Wallace, going pale.

"I - I -"

Many pops sounded, and other men, dressed in . . . robes?

They all wielded wands, and two of them grabbed Harry, despite his protests.

"What's going on?!" he asked. "Who are all of you?! What's going on?!"

"No time to explain, Mr. Potter," one of them said. "We'll fill you in later."

They forced something into his hand, a . . . . paperweight?

And as he felt his body begin to disappear, he saw a glimpse of another man in front of the fearful doctor and nurse cry, "Obliviate!"

There was a very sharp pull behind his navel, he was rushing through a violent whir of colour, the two men beside him, and even as he tried to yell, the sound never escaped his lips.

Thud!

Harry fell to a floor, hard.

"We're sorry, Mr. Potter," said one of the men, helping him to his feet. "This way."

They were inside a vast hall. It was so big - and beautiful. A . . . what was it? A splendid hall with hard wood floors and a powder blue ceiling, and golden symbols were floating about on it.

And halfway down the hall was a . . . a fountain. A group of golden statues were assembled inside of it, but Harry only got a glimpse of them, because the men holding him dragged him into a corridor off the hallway, and up a wide set of marble stairs.

Harry's bare feet grew cold against the smooth marble, the men's heels clicking and echoing.

A few minutes later, just as Harry started to lose his breath, they reached a landing.

He was lead to a vast oak door, and one man urgently knocked.

"What's going on?" asked Harry, slightly breathless, beginning to feel woozy. "Who are you people?"

But at that moment, the door groaned to an open, and a young man appeared.

He was tall, with dark hair and a round, anxious face. He seemed to be in his early twenties, wearing . . . were those robe as well? In a deep velvet blue.

"What's the -?" he began.

But he stopped immediately, his eyes widening at the sight of Harry.

"Merlin!" he gasped, going pale. "H-Harry? I-I-is that you?"

But Harry stared back, confused.

Who was this man?

"M-M-Minister!" said the young man. "M-Mr. Weasley - quick!"

"Don't shout, my dear boy, what's going -"

Another tall man appeared. He wore a set of satin black robes, and horn-rimmed spectacles. What was left of his hair was red, flecked with gray.

He immediately paled at the sight of Harry, a hand to the side of his face, and he swayed slightly on the spot.

The young man caught him and led him back into the office.

"Bring Harry in," he said, looking over his shoulder anxiously.

The men guided Harry in, seating him in a high-backed chair.

"Will somebody please tell me what's going on!" Harry said loudly. "Who are you people? Where am I? Why'd you kidnap me from the hospital?!" When they didn't say anything, simply staring at him, stunned, he began to lose his temper. "WELL?!"

The balding man turned to Harry, his glasses off and tears sparkling his brown eyes.

"You don't know who I am, Harry?" he asked.

"No," said Harry at once.

The man closed his eyes.

"Do you know what's happened to him?" he asked. "Macmillan? Taylor?"

"No, sir," they answered him.

Harry stared between every one of them, deeply confused and wanting answers now. Doctor Wallace and the nurse seemed to know so much already - why'd they take him away from the hospital in the first place?

And where was he? Who were these strange people that seemed to know who he was and all about him?

Pop!

Harry gave a start as a wizard appeared out of thin air on his left.

"Here, Minister," he said. He was holding that plastic box.

"Hey!" Harry said indignantly.

They ignored him, and all lapsed into silence.

Mr. Weasley looked inside the box, taking folded robes out of their plastic packaging, a frown on his lips. He unfolded the robes and dug into the pockets.

"Do - do you remember this, Harry?"

He drew out a silver, three-diamond ring from the pocket.

"No," said Harry simply.

Mr. Weasley set the ring on the desk, looking at Harry over his horn-rimmed spectacles.

"That, Harry, is a ring you intended to give a young woman I know," explained Mr. Weasley.

"Then you know Ginny?" Harry asked.

"You remember her?" asked Mr. Weasley anxiously.

"It's the woman in the photo!" said Harry.

"What photo?"

"This photo, sir," said one of the men, holding said photo.

Mr. Weasley took the photo with a furrowed brow, and his frown deepened.

"How - how do you know that woman?" asked Harry as the silence became too much. "How do you know about the ring?"

Mr. Weasley sighed.

"That woman is my daughter," he said. "And you intended to ask her for her hand in marriage. But you came to me first - you asked for my permission - and our family's blessing. . . Naturally, I gave it to you. . ."

"She was supposed to be . . . ?"

"Your plan was to ask her when you got back from the Last Battle - but of course you never came back . . . and she . . ."

"She what?" asked Harry.

Mr. Weasley took a deep breath.

"I think you ought to come with me, Harry."