Memory Madness

Memory Madness

Chapter 6:

    At Harry's exclamation, Dumbledore quickly nodded to Sirius, who got up and left the hut to bring in the Slytherin. Dumbledore then turned back to Harry, who watched as Sirius took the blond boy by the shoulder and guided him away from the window.

    "Do you remember Mr. Malfoy, Harry?" Dumbledore asked slowly. Harry shrugged helplessly, he couldn't explain how he'd known the boy. The name just flew from his mouth and his mind had simply been overwhelmed at the sight of a person he was sure he remembered strongly. It was all very confusing. Harry's head was hurting, but it had been before he thought about this new development anyway.

    Sirius firmly led the perplexed boy in to the hut. Malfoy was squinting disbelievingly at Harry. Harry noted that the boy also wore the robe-like clothes as Sirius and Dumbledore did.

    "Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said solemnly, "a little late to be out for a walk, don't you think?" Malfoy shifted uncomfortably.

    "I was - well, I was going to your office just a short while ago, Professor, but - when I got there, you were in a meeting from the sound of things...and I heard you say that Potter was alive and back! I just - I wanted to see that for myself, Professor." Malfoy shrugged a little carelessly. Dumbledore nodded slowly.

    "Well, now that you know, we would all appreciate it if you kept this quiet, Draco," he said. Malfoy looked slightly surprised.

    "You mean you are actually going to try to keep the return of the famous, wonderful Harry Potter a - a secret?" Malfoy spluttered disbelievingly, with a slight smirk. Harry frowned a little - this conversation was suddenly making less sense. There was obviously something he didn't know. Not only that, but Harry was also getting the impression that this Malfoy person was not all that nice. He couldn't help but wonder why he would remember him so much if he was just a snotty mean person.

    "For a time, yes," Dumbledore replied patiently.

    "Whatever for?" Malfoy asked, one eyebrow raised. "I would've thought that Potter couldn't bear to wait to get his adoring fans back", he added snidely.

    Harry now looked completely bewildered. What on earth was that snotty blond kid on about? Sirius looked suddenly uncomfortable and Dumbledore also looked a little uneasy.

    "Mr. Malfoy," Dumbledore said quietly, "perhaps we ought to explain. Harry here has no memory." Harry felt ever so slightly insulted, though he couldn't have explained why. He supposed it was true, but said so bluntly - well it sounded a little like an insult to him. Memories were so important. Harry knew that now. They were things that could completely define one's character - for the better or for the worse, he added, glancing at the blond boy.

    Malfoy frowned at the headmaster. "No memory? But-" and he seemed at a loss for what to say. Dumbledore nodded solemnly. Malfoy eventually spoke again. "So-" he paused to point a finger at Harry "- he remembers nothing? He doesn't remember the Wizarding world? He doesn't remember his pathetic Gryffindor friends? Nothing about being The Boy Who Lived? Not even... Quidditch?" Malfoy looked truly shocked.

    Sirius had been trying to motion the boy to be quiet while listing the things Harry did not remember, but that had obviously gone unheeded. It didn't really matter though - for Harry had been lost in his thoughts and didn't really take in much of what was happening. He was, in fact, more concerned with his growing aches and pains. He felt so - drained! He had certainly pushed himself hard today, and was feeling progressively worse.

    In answer to Malfoy's questions, Dumbledore nodded gravely and the blond Slytherin mouthed wordlessly for a moment.

    "So you see why we wish to reacquaint him with the castle and his past before we have his return made public?" Dumbledore said calmly. Malfoy looked thoughtful and nodded seriously in reply.

    Dumbledore then suggested they all made their way up to the castle. He led the way out of Hagrid's hut, and was shortly followed by Sirius, Harry and Malfoy.

    Harry was trying very hard not to grimace as he walked up the grassy slopes to the magnificent castle. Every movement was more painful than the last. Sirius and Dumbledore seemed to be discussing something quietly just ahead, and Malfoy, funnily enough, was walking along side him casting him half curious, half awkward glances.

    Harry stiffly pushed his glasses up his nose. Malfoy carefully cleared his throat.

    "So - I don't suppose you remember me then," he said as though it was a question. Harry bit his lip, contemplating how to explain his reply.

    "I - I knew your name - before it was spoken back there. When I saw you at the window - I'm not sure - I think I recognised you..." he trailed off with a weak shrug. Malfoy looked like he was amused.

    "So you sort of remembered me then?" he chuckled a little. "Well - I'm really flattered," he added sarcastically. He wasn't being bitterly sarcastic though, it just sounded as though he was highly amused. Harry couldn't help but think that this was a very complex person.

    "Where exactly did I know you from?" Harry asked, his curiosity getting the better of him. Malfoy squinted thoughtfully.

    "I used to make fun of you and your friends," he replied with a wide smirking smile and raised eyebrows. Harry snorted. He knew he shouldn't find it funny - knew he probably despised this person - but he couldn't help but find Malfoy's manner funny.

    "Well - do you still make fun of them?" Harry inquired, frowning. Malfoy shrugged in the same careless manner as before in the hut.

    "No, not really. I think it got a little boring after you disappeared. I didn't have a nemesis anymore. And then there was my father..." Malfoy cut off, brow furrowing. Harry changed the subject, sensing his discomfort.

    "So - I was your 'nemesis', was I?" he asked, amusedly. Malfoy gladly took up the subject.

    "We did rather have it in for each other," he stated. "But the whole thing was - childish - really. My father had a great influence on what I thought and said. I had a head full of ideas he had put there. It took me a long time to catch on to the fact that - those ideas were wrong." Malfoy was almost talking to himself. Harry supposed that if he had been more aware, he wouldn't have been happy about what he was telling him. Malfoy seemed to be a private person.

    They had reached the front doors now, and Harry turned his attention to the Entrance Hall. The place was very grand. It was truly a wonder. He gaped as he turned slowly on the spot, looking around at the portraits, tapestries and the grand staircase.

    Sirius and Dumbledore watched silently. It was as though he was seeing the place for the first time, when he had in fact considered the place as more his home than Number Four Privet Drive, where he grew up. Malfoy had quietly bid the two adults goodbye and left down towards the dungeons.

    "Come this way, Harry," Dumbledore carefully led the dumb-struck boy towards his office.

*~*~*

    Sirius was getting a headache. Dumbledore had been talking for over an hour now. He was trying to tell Harry about his complicated life. As for the boy - Sirius was worried about him. He hadn't looked up from his lap for ages. Sirius would occasionally bend forward to catch a glimpse of the boy's face. The magnificent emerald eyes looked - blank. As though he was looking at something in another time and place.

    Sirius had to admit he was still completely overwhelmed with everything. It was so hard to believe Harry was right there in front of him. It was even harder to take in the fact that he had lost his memory. But what completely threw Sirius off was the fact that he had recognised Malfoy! He hadn't recognised Dumbledore, or Hagrid, or him, but he had known Malfoy a split-second after seeing him. Well - knew his name at least - and probably had a vague recollection of him. But even so - he wished Harry had remembered him. Then again, they had only met a few times. He can't have big a very big part of Harry's every day life.

    Dumbledore was speaking quieter now. He was leant forward and if Sirius had not been caught in his thoughts, he would still not have been able to hear what the old wizard spoke of while explaining Harry's past to him.

    "And so we all feared you were dead," Dumbledore finished softly, just loud enough for Sirius to hear.

    Sirius glanced up to see Harry unmoved. He felt fidgety. He was worried about his godson, but knew better than to try to break the forbidding silence that had descended in the Headmaster's office.

    Dumbledore looked sadly at the fifteen year old and eventually took the boy's shoulder and spoke. "Harry..?" Sirius watched as Harry slowly raised his head to meet Dumbledore's gaze.

    "- And there was me thinking being a wizard must be so wonderful..." he said tonelessly. Sirius almost lost his control then. He wanted to make Harry happy - he wanted to talk things out with him - He wanted to go back in time and stop Harry from ever going in to the maze for the Third Task!

    Dumbledore looked stricken at Harry's words, but before he or Sirius had collected themselves to speak, Harry was gone. He rushed out of the room, leaving the heavy office doors to close behind him.

    Sirius slumped in his seat, utterly defeated and Dumbledore rubbed a hand over his face wearily.

    "I have failed him, Sirius," Dumbledore said, finally. Sirius couldn't hide his surprise.

    "What?!"

    "I could have prevented all this from happening..." Dumbledore sighed, shaking his head.

    "No, you couldn't have," Sirius said earnestly. "You had no idea what was going to happen - none of us did. Don't blame yourself for this. We just need to think about what we do here and now." Sirius trailed off, glancing at the office door, wondering where Harry could have gone in a castle he didn't recognise. Dumbledore put on one of his thoughtful expressions. "Should I go and find him?" Sirius asked haltingly, when Dumbledore had still not said anything.

    "No, I think not, Sirius, at this late hour he shouldn't be in danger of meeting anyone." Dumbledore shook his head gently. "He must be awfully confused. I had very few good things to tell him. He grew up with a family who didn't understand - or even want to understand - him. He was hunted by Voldemort since he arrived at Hogwarts. The only good things I can put in mind at the moment were his best friends and Quidditch." Dumbledore sighed heavily.

    Sirius stared at his hands. "And he will go through this alone," he murmured. "If we have to keep him secret for the time-being he will not have many people to talk to..." Sirius sighed worriedly.

    Dumbledore, however, looked ever so slightly triumphant. Sirius raised an enquiring eyebrow and the old wizard explained.

    "He *shall* have someone to talk to - someone his own age, but who is already informed of his return. This someone could also use a friend about now, he has been having a hard time too..." Dumbledore was interrupted.

    "Stop talking in riddles, Dumbledore! Who do you mean exactly?" Sirius blurted out, a suspicion forming in his mind.

    "Draco Malfoy," Dumbledore said. When Sirius snorted and wore a grimace, Dumbledore went on. "Believe it or not, Sirius, he has changed. It surprised me at first - I believed he was going to follow his father's ways. But from what I can gather - at the end of the summer, Draco saw his parents arguing. His father got angry and cursed his mother. Draco jumped in to help, and turned his wand on his father to defend her. It started a rift between the two that eventually led to Draco's turning his back on his family completely. Barely two weeks ago, Draco came to me and told me his father had asked for him to join the Organised Death Eaters, as he referred to it. He said he refused to, but might need to be allowed to stay in the safe walls of Hogwarts from then on."

    Sirius was stunned. "That was - a brave thing for him to have done," he commented. Dumbledore nodded seriously.

    "He is now cut off from his family completely - even his mother." Sirius frowned a little, thinking back to when they had been approaching the castle, and he had looked back to see Harry talking to Malfoy.

    "But he looked perfectly happy when he was making his way to the castle," he said. Dumbledore sat back, smiling ever so slightly.

    "When he was talking to Harry, yes. But that is the happiest I have seen him since he was disowned," he said. "I believe they could make very good friends, Sirius. They both have their own issues to deal with - but it would be a help to young Draco if he had a friend in Harry. His Slytherin friends are all alien to him now. And Harry needs a friend too. It may be a while before he remembers enough - or feels ready enough - to come out in to the public eye."

    Sirius nodded. It made sense. It wasn't how he'd like it exactly, but it could work. With a sigh, he sat back, blinking tiredly, hoping for the best.

*~*~*

    As Dumbledore finished telling him all about his past, the first thing Harry felt was that he had to get out of there. So he did. He said something to them - though his mind had been struggling so much with all the information that he couldn't remember what it was - and then he left as quickly as possible.

    He wandered for what could easily have been hours, but for someone who had as much to think about as he did, it seemed only minutes.

    Every corridor looked the same as the one before, every staircase seemed to go up, every portrait moved, and with every step he took, Harry felt worse.

    He eventually came to a tower. It had a view of the grounds and the forest, and looking up, Harry couldn't count the number of twinkling stars. It was the astronomy tower, though Harry didn't know it at the time.

    Sitting in a corner, he stared up at the sky and ignored the pain he felt while he let his thoughts whirl.

    From the sound of things, being as wizard wasn't all that great if your name happened to be Harry Potter. He had grown up with people who didn't like him, and then when he got away from them to come and be a wizard at Hogwarts he always found himself in trouble and seemed to have had a load of near death experiences.

    Charming, he thought wryly.

    There were things that fascinated him about his past too though. The idea of Quidditch - a sport played on flying broomsticks - certainly caught his attention. And he had been told the names of his best friends. Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger. They really did exist.

    He shuddered when he thought of the pain he must have caused them though. They were the best friends of someone famous who got caught up in awful things. He must have caused them worry. Then he supposedly died! It must have been awful...

    Harry was just wondering what their reactions would be if they saw him again, when his odd dream from a while back came to his mind. He'd seen Ron in a kitchen - a kitchen that belonged to (what did he call his home?) - The Burrow - that was it.

    Some of the things Ron said had not made sense to him at the time but... Ron had thought he was dead!

    Harry's eyes widened as realisation hit him. That had happened! He had really appeared in that kitchen! He'd really talked to Ron. He'd even seen Hermione. But that was how they were now! It wasn't an old memory - it was only about a week ago!

    Magic must have had something to do with that then, he surmised, head feeling rather foggy.

    Dumbledore had talked about the teachers who knew he was there. One professor, by the name of Snape, sounded most disagreeable. The one who was Sirius' friend, and also a friend of his father when he was alive, sounded nice, and Harry wouldn't mind meeting him. But he just felt so - lost. He knew nothing about himself. How was he meant to act? How had he acted before? How was he meant to be Harry Potter if he couldn't remember enough about his life to fit in an egg cup?

    Harry sighed aloud. He hated to admit it but he felt scared. He was scared that he would let everyone down - again. He let them down when he disappeared, and if he came back but was not all he used to be...he would be failing again.

    Even if Voldemort hadn't managed to live through the encounter (which was, according to Dumbledore, public opinion), did it really mean he had been the victor of that battle? He was sent in to a coma, and lost all of his memories.

    He rubbed his freezing arms, his teeth chattering a little. It was not the ideal time of year to sit star-gazing. He stood, feeling that he ought to try to go back to the office - and apologise for leaving so hastily. He had to reach out and grab the wall to steady himself.

    He walked for a long time, but his legs were protesting and he stumbled many times. He stopped in front of a statue of some kind, holding on to it, trying desperately to stay upright. But his legs crumpled beneath him with no warning and he bit his lip as though trying to contain the pain he felt. The last thing he saw was the statue moving aside, then all was black.

*~*~*

    When he next opened his eyes, the first thing Harry noted was how bright everything looked. In fact, it was too bright for him to keep his eyes open for more than a few short seconds. The second thing he noticed, was how painful everything felt. He was sore and achy all over and when he tried to move his hand, it sent a jolt of pain all the way up his arm. He bit his lip.

    Something blocked the light, so Harry cautiously opened his eyes and saw the blurry outline of someone standing over him. He slowly became more aware and heard this person speaking in a frenzy.

    "...Oh my days! I can't - I mean...we all thought - Oh my days indeed!" was the first thing he caught clearly. It was obviously a woman from the sound of her voice. Then this lady gasped, seeing he was awake. "Oh my..." she said hushedly. "P-Potter? Are you awake?"

    He nodded ever so slightly, and then felt the lady put his glasses on. Everything came in to sharp focus, and he saw the woman more clearly. He was sure he had seen her before, he just - couldn't recall where. Like everything else, he thought dejectedly.

    "That is Madame Pomfrey, Harry," a soft voice said to his left. Harry started, and then hissed in pain. He squinted at the person who'd spoken. It was Dumbledore, looking weary and concerned. Next to him, Harry saw Sirius wringing his hands slightly as though he was itching to do something but didn't quite know what.

    Madame Pomfrey had started fussing about Harry's bedside, and she was muttering things under her breath, occasionally glancing at Harry and clucking her tongue and shaking her head.

    "Umm. I - I'm sorry I left last night," Harry said carefully, looking very sorry and a tiny bit embarrassed. Dumbledore just announced that he had no reason to be sorry and Sirius had nodded his head in agreement. "But I still shouldn't have," Harry insisted. "I suppose I was just - overwhelmed a little. I mean - it sounds like I had a very - eventful - life..." Harry trailed off, feeling uncomfortable.

    "Forget about last night," Dumbledore said, waving a hand. "You did what could well be expected. What worried us was coming out of my office to find you unconscious at the entrance."

    Harry would have shifted uncomfortably if he was more able. "I just couldn't stay standing any longer..." he tried to explain. Sirius was biting his lip so hard Harry was sure it must hurt badly.

    "He wasn't fit enough to walk about so much," Madame Pomfrey said, standing by Harry's bedside table. "He can't have been healing for long enough. How long was it then, Harry? Four weeks? Five perhaps?"

    Harry frowned a little. "I was only awake for about three...I think." Madame Pomfrey dropped a glass bottle she had been opening.

    "What?" she cried, looking at Harry as though he'd been speaking another language.

    "I did the Physiotherapy exercises in the night when they didn't know," Harry said. "They didn't think I could walk at all - but I was pretty sure I could. You see, I had to escape that place. I wasn't sure where I'd go, but when I did get out - later the same night I walked for the first time - I met Mr. Black and he took me here." Harry smiled at Sirius a little.

    "But - three weeks?" Madame Pomfrey was looking shell-shocked.

    "It seems to me," Dumbledore said thoughtfully, "that Harry's hasty recovery was thanks to magic." Harry gaped up at the old wizard.

    "But - what do you mean, sir?" he asked, haltingly. He didn't understand the magic business, but surely he had to say something and wave a wand to make it happen?

    "Some of your magic helped you along the way - and probably rushed things. I see no other way to explain your seemingly speedy recovery and recent collapse." Dumbledore glanced at Sirius when he had finished. "Sirius and I gave this a little thought early this morning. We believe it might be possible that after the fight with Voldemort, you may have more magical ability."

    Harry just frowned, he was getting a headache.

    "You'll need bed rest," Madame Pomfrey told Harry, looking a little worried about something. "Then you'll be fine in a few days."

    Immediately, Harry had a strong feeling that what she said was a lie. The feeling came with a strangely dizzy sensation. It was as though he just - knew. He couldn't explain it though.

    "You're lying," he said tonelessly to the nurse. She blinked surprised and regarded him with wide eyes. And Harry knew what he said was true. She had been lying. He wouldn't just be fine in a few days with some rest.

    Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat and collected herself a little. "Just - drink this," she stuttered, handing him a goblet.

    As Harry took it, he touched her hand, and felt like he'd been electrocuted. He saw a flash, and was suddenly looking around the infirmary at night. There were lamps on the walls which shed a warm glow across the castle stone, but the atmosphere in this room was not as warm by a long shot. People were worried, confused, and tense.

    There was a kind-looking lady with brilliant red hair standing next to a tall young man with the same unbelievable shade of hair. A girl Harry recognised as Hermione was standing by the window, and Ron sat close by her looking anxious.

    He could also see Madame Pomfrey running about as he took the scene in. A younger girl than Ron but with the Weasley hair was lying on one of the beds. Harry felt inclined to refer to her as Ginny.

    Hermione walked over to Ron's side and gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm sure he's fine," she said softly, voice wavering slightly as though she didn't believe herself. Ron nodded absentmindedly. "What did Dumbledore say exactly?"

    "He said the Cup seems to have been a Portkey. Moody was seen trying to sneak away from the pitch, and was brought to Dumbledore. Dumbledore questioned him - and Moody turned in to Barty Crouch Junior. He was a big supporter of You-Know-Who. He rigged up the Goblet to take Harry's name and planned the Portkey to take whoever touched it first straight to Him... and he tried to make sure Harry touched it first..." Ron stopped talking. Hermione had been looking more and more worried all through the tale.

    "And Dumbledore just said to wait in here?" She asked nervously.

    "Yeah, he's trying to find out where the Portkey took Harry and Diggory," Ron said softly. "But - Hermione, I've never seen Dumbledore look so bad. He looked so - anxious. He - he isn't sure it'll turn out right - he isn't in control this time!" Ron's voice had risen with his fear.

    Hermione shushed him gently, and put an arm around him. She told him it would be okay, and Ron closed his eyes, looking defeated. Eventually she tried to lighten the mood a little.

    "Can - can you believe Ginny fell asleep?" she giggled half-heartedly. It made Ron smile though.

    "She probably worried herself to sleep," he said, looking at the red haired girl with a fond smile. After a few minutes of silence, Hermione smiled softly to herself.

    "He'll be back soon...you'll see, Ron. Harry'll be back in no time, don't worry."

    The image of the two friends melted away before Harry's eyes, and he looked around to see Sirius sitting next to him looking desperately worried.

    "He's been lying frozen like that for five minutes...what's happened? What's wrong?" Sirius was saying feverishly. Harry turned his head to him quickly, and Sirius nearly fell off his seat in surprise. Then the dark-haired man looked too relieved for words.

    Dumbledore was looking pensive. Harry was breathing fast and was white as a sheet, bewildered by what he had seen. Sirius was asking Harry over and over if he was alright, and all Harry could do was nod dumbly. Madame Pomfrey started fussing, then when he was checked over she gave him the goblet again and this time he drank it and found himself falling asleep.