Memories

Chapter Four

Ginny felt so faint.

There he was: breathing, blinking, living -- beautiful Harry. And he was staring straight at her.

She couldn't help but take firm hold of the door frame to keep her steady. She pinched her thigh hard with the other hand.

She flinched with pain.

This was reality.

Then what was she doing? She should be in his arms right now -- kissing him -- telling him she loved him.

Pushing her away from the door, Ginny went to him, still very unsteady on her feet. The entire time he stood still, watching her intently. Her parents remained silent. She could see tears brimming her mother's eyes, at least from the corners of her vision.

A sob caught in her throat as she finally collapsed against him, crying uncontrollably into his chest.

It was really him. This wasn't another one of her dreams. He was really here -- her Harry.

"Ginny. . ." idly she knew her father was speaking to her.

She drew away slightly to touch his face, to feel his inky-black locks, to stare up into the depths of his jade eyes.

A gentle hand was place on her shoulder. "Ginny." Her mother.

Ginny stared up at Harry, who was still incredibly immobile. "I -- I can't believe its you," she managed, her voice thick with tears. "I've missed you so much -- you've no idea what it's like. . . Harry -- where've you been?"

He did not answer, nor did he move.

She frowned.

She could sense something was . . . not right. She felt odd . . . like he was a stranger. What was wrong with him?

There was no sparkle in his eyes, or a grin curving his lips. He didn't shift like he normally did, or constantly adjust his glasses when nervous.

He looked empty. He felt empty.

"Harry?" she asked.

"Ginny, dear," her mother began to tug at her sleeve.

Ginny only dug her fingers into his T-shirt.

"You're Ginny, right?" he had finally spoken.

She just stared at him, trying to process what he was asking.

"Of-of course I'm Ginny -- Harry!"

He bit his lip, reaching down into his pocket. "I believe this is yours," he said, showing her a silver, three-stoned ruby and diamond ring.

Ginny took the ring from him, now trembling from head to foot.

She recognized it as one she'd seen a year and a half ago while she was out with Harry. She thought it was gorgeous, but they apparently didn't have the money for it.

"Harry?" she asked. "What's going on?"

"Ginny -- we -- you need to sit down," said Mum.

"Why -- what's going on?" demanded Ginny.

"Dear he -- he doesn't remember you. He doesn't remember anything," said Dad gently.

Ginny took a step away from him. "What?"

"Nothing," whispered Mum.

Ginny bit back a sob. "You don't remember me, Harry?"

His brow furrowed as she shook his head.

She let out a strangled son, allowing her father to put his arm around her.

"I'm sorry, Gin," he whispered against her ear.

She had lost him all over again.

*~*~*~*

Harry followed the family members at a distance.

The young woman named Ginny was leaning on her father for support, an occasional sniff coming from her.

He had a bad feeling in his stomach -- as if he'd done something very wrong. Perhaps it was.

Harry and the others made it to the end of the hall, but Molly held him back.

"Dear, you'll have to stay here," she said. "I'll stay with you."

"Okay," murmured Harry.

She crossed her arms across her chest, looking at him thoughtfully.

Harry stared back.

Her chocolate brown eyes were still red. She brushed impatiently at her grey-flecked red hair, stray tears falling from her eyes. She looked like a kind woman, with a good heart and a great amount of patience.

"Do you remember anything at all, Harry?" she suddenly asked.

Harry was startled, but obliged to her, closing his eyes. . .

He thought long and hard, willing just one thing to come back to him -- just one memory. Anything. . .

Green

. . . Why would he remember green?

"Just . . . flashes of bright green," he said slowly, opening his eyes.

A hand went to her mouth. For a moment she was utterly silent, her eyes darting here and there, as if trying to piece something together.

"It's a start," she said in a hollow voice.

*~*~*~*

Adrian gasped. "Shut up, Fred Weasley! All right -- you're gettin' a beatin'!"

Ron laughed as his brother began to cower, his new fiancé Adrian stood up to punch him. Hermione looked disapproving but Seamus just chuckled, a hand in hers.

Ron couldn't believe he'd finally popped the question. He'd been planning on this for two weeks now. Looking for the right ring -- when to ask her -- what to say. Where to ask her.

He and Adrian didn't want to tell anyone of it just yet. They wanted to wait for the right moment. So she wore the small diamond of the ring under her finger.

A muffled whimper came through the room, and everyone went quiet.

The kitchen door opened. Ginny and Dad came in, his father holding his little sister under his arm.

Ron took one look at her face and went pale. He'd seen that look so many times before. The last time was particularly painful.

"What's wrong?" he asked, getting to his feet.

"Ron -- I think you should sit down," said Dad, his voice weary.

Ron did not move. "Why?"

A dozen questions raced through his mind as he watched the two of them, the looks on their faces. "Just sit."

The youngest son did not listen. He strode to his sister, taking her in his arms. She broke down the moment he did, clutching at him, her face buried in his shoulder.

Dad threw Ron a pleading look, but the young man stood his ground, clenching his jaw. He sighed, turning to the rest.

"I don't know how to put this," he addressed the room at large. "But . . . Harry is alive."

There was a collective gasp swept about the room. Every face went pale, every person went still. No one seemed to breathe.

"Where is he?" Ron finally asked, his voice faint.

He felt considerably weaker, but stood still and tall as he waited for his father's answer.

"He's right outside the kitchen," he said.

Another collective gasp and the family was suddenly getting to their feet, rushing to the door.

"Wait!" said Dad, blocking them. "There's something you should know."

"What?" Fred asked impatiently.

Hermione had tears in her eyes, leaning on Seamus for support. Adrian had come to stand next to Ron and Ginny, stroking Ginny's hair as her sobs began to abate.

"He . . . doesn't have his memory."