Power of Love

CHAPTER 9 - SHADOWS AND LIGHT

The next two weeks passed in a blur. Concentrating was difficult, but Hermione kept Ron to a strict study schedule so that they would have time to review everything they needed to know for their NEWTs. With Quidditch training several times a week, spending time with Susan, and his prefect duties, Ron was nearly able to ignore his gnawing feeling of anxiety during the day. He would often lie awake until the wee hours of the night, however, wondering where Harry was and what he was doing. On more than one occasion he cried silent tears into his pillow. And he'd never admit it to the other boys in the dormitory, but he had taken one of Harry's favorite jumpers and hidden it under his pillow so that he could remember the sweet, musky scent of Harry. The jumper offered precious little consolation to him in the middle of the long, dark night, though.

When they had some free moments together, Ron, Hermione and Ginny did their best to concoct Harry-sightings that they passed along to the other Gryffindors, to the Hufflepuffs through Susan and to the Ravenclaws through Anthony. The Slytherins were suspicious, but they didn't want to appear too interested in Potter, and mostly saved their snide comments for times when Ron and Hermione would be sure to hear them.

Hermione was furious that she had not gotten permission from McGonagall and Snape to make the Polyjuice Potion, which gave them the distinct impression that whatever Harry was going to do would happen soon. However, as days dragged on, and Hermione read about more Death Eater attacks in the Daily Prophet, the stress of waiting was taking its toll on her as well. Several times Ron had to remind her that it was not Anthony's fault that Harry was gone, and that she might want to go a little easier on him.

Ginny also seemed to be having a hard time, which was mostly due to the fact that she had no role in the big plan except to be the left-behind girlfriend. Although she was normally very social, with lots of friends in the other houses, she was now keeping to herself, spending time with Ron and Hermione and the Quidditch team.

Ron had asked Ginny several times what Harry had told her the night before he left, and she refused to say. It was sweet, actually, that Harry had made a special point to tell her how much he valued their friendship, and how glad he was that they'd gotten closer this year. Ginny knew that she came second to Ron in Harry's heart, and she was disappointed about it, but he had gone out of his way to make her feel special - like she really mattered to him - and that had been more than she hoped for. It was no big deal, though. She just didn't feel she needed to share their private conversation with her brother, especially when not doing so annoyed him.

* * * * *

One blustery evening, the Gryffindor Quidditch team was making a valiant attempt to practice, but there was very little value in training with the wind was blowing so hard. It was nearly impossible for anyone to fly straight, and the Chasers were no longer able to complete any passes. Much to the relief of the other players, Ron finally cancelled practice for the day and the Gryffindor team headed back to the castle.

"I hope it's not this windy when we play Ravenclaw," moaned Ginny, who was clutching her robes tightly around her.

"Even if it is, we'll still win. We're so much better than they are," shouted Ron above the roar of the wind. He wrestled open the heavy wooden door and held it for his teammates. He followed them inside and the wind slammed the door shut behind him. They bantered jovially all the way up to Gryffindor Tower, enjoying their last few minutes of relaxation before they returned to the grind of their studies.

Natalie and Ginny were first through the portrait hole, and had gone halfway across the common room when a loud thud caused them to quickly turn around. Ron was lying face down, right inside the doorway.

"Having a little trouble walking, Ron?" teased Ginny. When he did not look back at her, she ran over to him, worried that he might actually be hurt. "Are you okay?"

"Isis," Ron whispered. "Find...Hermione."

Ginny looked around. There were only few students in the common room besides the Quidditch team, all of whom were looking at her as if awaiting instructions. "Could you please move him?" she asked, turning to Sloper and Kirke. They nodded and managed to heave Ron onto the nearest couch without dropping him.

Meanwhile, Ginny ran up to the dormitory to see if Hermione was there. Fortunately, Hermione was packing her book bag to go to the library. The two girls hurtled back down the stairs and rushed to where Ron was lying, his eyes closed and his lips moving ever so slightly, as if murmuring to someone that no one else could see. As Hermione knelt down next to the couch, Ginny said to the others gathered there, "He'll be fine. You don't have to hang around. Last time this happened it was all over in a couple of minutes."

"He looks like he's in a trance," said Sloper. "Is it some kind of Dark magic?"

Ginny was startled at how close to the truth his comment was. But she shook her head and lied, "No, he's always done this, ever since he was little. We're not sure what it is, but it comes and goes." Her nonchalance about the whole episode assuaged their concerns for their friend, so the rest of the Quidditch team disappeared up to their dormitories to change clothes.

"Ron, can you see where he is?" whispered Hermione after they'd gone. "Can you tell what the trouble is - like you could last time?"

Ron's breathing quickened and he said, "It's dark.... Lots ... of people ... surrounding ... him." They saw Ron's lips move as he mouthed, "Don't be scared. I'll protect you."

Ron was comfortable enough, but he did not feel as strong a connection with Harry as he did the last time. He supposed that was because Harry was far away, or perhaps Harry was concentrating on all those people surrounding him. The last time, Harry had sent a thought telling Ron what was wrong, but now, there was no such message. All Ron could see in his mind's eye were shadows of people against a light background. Ron opened his eyes and saw Ginny and Hermione staring at him expectantly. "I think ... he's ... in danger ... but ... not ... being ... attacked."

Ginny looked relieved, but Hermione was still concerned. She said to Ginny, "We can't very well leave Ron here in the common room. We don't know how long he's going to be like this. And what if he shouts out Harry's name or something? I think we should take him to the hospital wing."

"Can't ... walk," protested Ron.

"I'll move you, just like we practiced in class." Hermione stood up, removing her wand from the inside pocket of her robe. "Ginny, you get the door. Mobilicorpus." Ron was lifted off the couch and moved to an upright position. Hermione pulled him forward with her wand, as if there were invisible strings between Ron and the end of it. Ron was hovering upright, several inches off the floor. If anyone passed them, they would look like a strange spectacle indeed. Ginny was in the lead, Ron was hovering, seeming nearly as tall as Hagrid, and Hermione followed behind with her wand arm outstretched and a determined look on her face.

Madam Pomfrey dashed out of her office as they entered the dormitory area of the hospital wing. "Good heavens," she gasped. "It's happening, then. Professor Dumbledore told me to watch out for you, Mr. Weasley. Bring him along here, to the back. We'll give him some privacy."

Hermione moved Ron to the farthest bed in the dormitory and gently deposited him there. Madam Pomfrey fussed about, trying to make him comfortable. She drew the curtain around the bed so that no one would be able to see him. Ginny and Hermione pulled chairs close to the bed and waited with anticipation.

Now that he was relaxed again, Ron tried once more to focus on Harry. If he listened very hard, he was sure he could hear an echo of Harry's voice, but the words were jumbled and he could not understand them. The shadows around him were moving too, but Harry did not seem to notice them. The cadence of Harry's jumbled words hinted that he was speaking with controlled anger - deep, low and forceful - a voice that demanded attention from anyone who heard it. Ron focused with all his might, but still he could not hear the words.

"How ... long ... has ... it ... been?" asked Ron.

Ginny looked at her watch. "About twenty minutes." She reached over and patted her brother's hand. She felt so helpless, knowing that Harry was in danger and completely unable to do anything to help him. She wondered where Dumbledore was, and whether Harry being surrounded by a lot of people was part of this great plan. She watched Ron resting with his eyes closed, a deceptive look of serenity spread across his face.

Suddenly, Ron's fists clenched and Ginny and Hermione watched him grimace. His lips started moving, and they assumed he was sending words of encouragement to Harry. A cold sweat broke out on his forehead, and he was getting agitated. Ginny wiped his face with a cloth that Madam Pomfrey had left behind, but it appeared to irritate him, so she stopped.

The connection with Harry had strengthened with no warning to Ron. Suddenly he heard Harry's voice in his head telling Ron that he loved him and that he thought about their last night together every day. "Isis is protecting me," said Harry's thoughts. "Voldemort tried Avada Kedavra and I lived again. He's livid, and it's all thanks to you. Ron, I owe you my life. I love you so very much." Ron focused his thoughts and in his mind he told Harry that he loved him, and that he would protect Harry, no matter what happened.

"It's working," he said to Ginny and Hermione in a barely audible whisper. "He ... lived ... again." Ginny squealed, and Hermione clapped her hands. Both girls were literally on the edge of their seats, as if they were watching a particularly exciting Quidditch match rather than a boy lying in his bed.

Ron focused on Harry and his love for Harry. Oh, Isis, get him through this! Then it came, another message from Harry. "Dumbledore is here, right on cue. Get ready, Ron. Here we go!" It was nearly impossible for Ron to focus any harder, but he tried with all his might. He was getting tired, but his best friend and lover was about to vanquish the most evil wizard of the age, and just the thought of it gave Ron renewed strength.

Ron spoke aloud, "He's ... about ... to do it." Ginny held Ron's hand, as if somehow her magic could pass through to Harry as well.

Ron could see a picture in his mind again - still very vague, but enough to know that battle lines were being drawn. Some time passed - Ron didn't know how long. He saw what he thought to be Harry's hands holding a glimmering white orb the size of a Bludger, with a translucent light shining from it, like one of the Muggle light bulbs he had seen in his father's garage. The hands threw the orb and it landed at someone's feet and shattered into a million pieces. The light from the orb was blinding, and Ron cried out. Impulsively, he covered his eyes with his hands, although it did nothing to stop the blinding light in his head. Ron felt a surge of energy rush through his body, and then he fainted.

Ginny screamed, and Madam Pomfrey came running over. She checked Ron's breathing and pulse, and muttered something under her breath. Aloud she said, "What happened?"

Ginny was unsure how to respond, but Hermione answered, "Ron had a sort of connection with Harry. He told us that Harry was about to do something, and then he just sort of screamed and passed out." Madam Pomfrey looked worried, but she said nothing to them. Instead, she left quickly.

"What do you think that was?" asked Ginny.

Hermione looked sadly at Ron, and then at Ginny. "I don't think we have any way of knowing until he wakes up."

Madam Pomfrey was back a few moments later with what appeared to be ordinary smelling salts. She held them under Ron's nose for a moment, and he woke up, coughing.

"What happened?" asked Ginny and Hermione at the same time.

Ron closed his eyes, inhaling the fresh air deeply. When he opened them again, he said hoarsely, "There was a flash of bright light and then our connection broke. I have no idea if Harry's alive or not. I think maybe the light was a weapon, and Harry threw it and meant for it to explode."

"So we wait some more," said Hermione glumly. She and Ginny sat with Ron for a while, before returning to Gryffindor Tower. None of them dared to speak their worst fears, but they knew they were all thinking the same thing. There was nothing more they were going to learn tonight. Maybe there would be something in the Daily Prophet in the morning.

* * * * *

Many hours later, in the middle of the night, Ron was awakened by six or seven people who showed up in the hospital wing unexpectedly. Madam Pomfrey had pulled back his curtains so he was only partially hidden from view. Ron tried to sit up to see what all the commotion was about, but thought better of that idea when the room started spinning. Instead, he lay back down and strained to overhear their conversation.

"What are his symptoms?" Ron heard Madam Pomfrey ask.

Dumbledore answered, "He hasn't been conscious since it happened. I doubt it was the blast, though. It shouldn't have caused him any harm. What I fear is damage through his scar when Voldemort was destroyed." Ron was shocked as he realized that it was Harry who had been brought in.

"He's really gone, then, Professor? For good this time?" asked Madam Pomfrey excitedly.

"It certainly appears so. There were about fifty witnesses, including myself, who saw him disintegrate. One can never be absolutely positive, of course, but I should need to see some strong evidence to convince me otherwise," said Dumbledore.

Ron could hear some shuffling, and a muttered "Sorry," from an unknown voice. It was quiet for a while, and then he heard Madam Pomfrey say, "He seems all right other than the loss of consciousness. I recommend letting him wake on his own, rather than forcing the issue through magical means. If he's still comatose in a day or two, there are other things we can try."

There was a murmur of agreement from the ensemble, and Dumbledore said, "Yes, there's little we can do tonight. Severus, would you be so kind as to show our guests to their accommodations while I have a word with Madam Pomfrey?"

Snape's voice was easily recognizable now. "Of course, Headmaster. Then I'll be in my quarters if any further assistance is needed. Come this way, please." Ron heard several sets of footsteps move toward the door and then fade away.

"Now, Poppy, how is our other patient?" said Dumbledore, coming into view of Ron's bed. "Awake, I see. My apologies for waking you, Ron."

Ron sat up quickly, holding his head in his hands in an attempt to keep from passing out. "Professor Dumbledore, what's wrong with Harry? Is he going to be all right?" Madam Pomfrey pushed him back onto his pillows, and he did not protest.

"We cannot assess his condition until he awakens. In the meantime, we need to be extremely proud of all that Harry, with the aid of his Protector, was able to accomplish, even if we do not yet know the price he paid. Voldemort has been destroyed, and at last count, twelve Death Eaters were taken into custody."

"Was Wormtail one of them?" asked Ron.

"I'm afraid Peter Pettigrew met a very unhappy fate. When Voldemort learned he had broken into Hogwarts without permission, he was tortured until he died - a very slow, painful death," said Dumbledore, shaking his head as if he were truly sorry about this.

"Harry will like that," said Ron, decisively.

Dumbledore stared at him, then smiled slightly as he looked over the top of his glasses. "I take it you did not sustain any lasting damage during the time you were channeling Isis?"

"I don't think so. I'm just really weak, that's all. Professor Dumbledore, while I was, er, channeling Isis, I saw something that looked like a white ball of light. Was it Harry who was holding it?" Ron looked up at Dumbledore anxiously.

Dumbledore nodded. "Yes. Interesting. You must have been able to see what was happening from Harry's point of view."

"I guess so, but I couldn't see very well. Only shadows and light. So, what was that ball of light, sir?"

Dumbledore smiled. "That orb was a weapon of my own invention, which the Department of Mysteries has been developing for nearly twenty years. The substance in the orb is always fatal to those who follow the Dark side, but it is harmless to the rest of us."

"What was it?" asked Ron in amazement.

"Love. Love proved to be Voldemort's downfall and love is what saved Harry. Never underestimate its power, Ron. Love is the strongest magic we have." As Dumbledore turned to leave he said, "I am as proud of you and Harry as I could possibly be. It is an amazing feat that our side suffered so few losses, which would not have been possible had you and Harry not shown the courage you did. Wizards everywhere owe the two of you their gratitude. Please know that you have mine."

"Thanks, Professor. You must have had a very good plan. I think we owe you our gratitude too, sir."

"Thank you, Ron. It did work out rather well."

"Er, Professor Dumbledore, if it's all the same to you, I'd just as soon not have my role in this made public - at least not yet. It could lead to some, er, embarrassing questions," said Ron, feeling grateful that his flushed face could not be seen in the dark.

"I understand. We'll discuss what we shall tell the masses with Harry when he wakes up, shall we?" Dumbledore's eyes caught the moonlight shining in the window, and Ron could see his amusement.

"Yeah, that sounds good. Goodnight, Professor."

After Dumbledore left, Ron tried with all his might to stay awake to worry about Harry. But it was a losing battle and he fell asleep within minutes.

* * * * *

The first thing Ron realized, when he woke the next morning, was that he was able to sit up in bed without wanting to retch. It was a great improvement. He couldn't find his watch, but from the angle of the sun's rays pouring through the window near his bed, he thought it must be close to mid-morning. Ron peered around the partially drawn curtain hiding his bed, and saw Madam Pomfrey cheerfully fussing with someone's bedding. He'd forgotten - it was Harry!

Ron scrambled out of bed, nearly falling over due to the weakness of his knees. As he approached Harry's bedside, he stopped dead in his tracks. Harry was lying on his back, his jet-black hair flying wildly across the freshly fluffed pillow. He wore no expression, and his usually sensuous lips were pressed gently together forming a straight line across his narrow face. The most startling thing, however, was his scar. Where it had once been faded to the point that it was hardly noticeable to the casual observer, it was now nearly black, and jutting out from the alabaster skin of his forehead. Ron examined it more closely and saw that it was as if the skin had been re-injured in exactly the same spot, and had scabbed over.

Madam Pomfrey caught Ron's eye and saw the look of horror on his face. "He hasn't woken yet, but I imagine he'll have quite a headache when he does. Are you feeling better today, Mr. Weasley?"

"Huh? Er, yeah. Loads better, thanks. Madam Pomfrey, how long do you reckon he'll be like this? He's not, er, brain-dead or anything, is he?" Ron could barely bring himself to say the horrible things his mind was thinking. What if Isis had saved Harry's body, but not his soul? He'd be no better off than if one of those dementors had gotten hold of him. What if Harry never woke up?

"We've seen some movement during the night, so it appears he has some brain function. That's a good sign. Really, if it weren't for the change in his scar, I would guess that he was just very, very tired. Whatever happened last night seems to have drained all of the magical energy from both of you. The only way to get it back is with the passage of time." Madam Pomfrey walked over to where Ron had been sleeping and retrieved his wand from among his things. She handed it to him. "I'd like to see if you've gotten all your powers back. Please try a simple spell."

Ron pointed his wand at the empty water glass on the table next to Harry's bed. "Wingardium leviosa," he said. The glass rose about six inches off the table before Ron was too weak to hold it there, and it went crashing to the floor. Ron moaned as the shards of glass skittered across the floor, but Madam Pomfrey walked over to the bed.

"Did you see that? When the glass dropped, he winced. And look at his eyes move!" Ron watched Harry's eyeballs dart back and forth behind his closed lids. "He's not in a coma, just a deep sleep. That's a relief!" she said. She turned back to Ron and scolded him, "I can see you're not quite as well as you let on. Back to bed with you. Now!"

"Can I move over here, next to Harry?" pleaded Ron, as she repaired the broken glass with a wave of her wand.

Madam Pomfrey initially refused his request, but as she had no real reason to keep them apart, in the end, she capitulated. She conjured some breakfast for Ron to eat in his new bed, and moved his belongings while he ate.

Ron was just finishing his last bit of toast when he heard a voice say, "Mmmm. That smells delicious."

"Harry!" exclaimed Ron, shoving his breakfast tray aside. In a flash, he was out of his bed and sitting on the edge of Harry's. "I'm so glad you're all right!" Ron grabbed Harry's hand, but was taken aback by the strange look on his face.

Harry pulled his hand away and looked confused. "I'm sorry, but do I know you?"

Ron's face fell. What kind of a cruel joke was this? "Very funny, Harry. Of course you know me."

"Harry? Is that me?" Something in his expression told Ron that Harry was most definitely not joking. His eyes were darting nervously from Ron to the door and to the rest of the room.

"Yes," said Ron quietly. "You're Harry Potter. I'm Ron Weasley. We're best friends."

"Oh," said Harry, obviously disturbed by this news. Harry saw his glasses sitting on the nightstand and put them on. He and Ron shared an uncomfortable moment of silence until Madam Pomfrey came running over.

"You're awake at last!" she said, bursting with energy. "Congratulations, Mr. Potter, on a job well done!"

"Sorry," said Harry, "but what did I do?"

Madam Pomfrey looked confused until Ron said, "He doesn't seem to remember anything, not even his name."

"Oh dear, this isn't good." She began to ask him a battery of questions designed to determine the extent of his memory loss. After half a minute, it became clear that he didn't remember anything about Hogwarts and his last memories were of living with the Dursleys.

Ron interrupted. "Do you remember going to the zoo with your cousin Dudley?" Ron remembered the story of the trip to the zoo because it was apparently the first time Harry had ever spoken Parseltongue.

"Oh no," Harry said sadly. "They don't let me go to fun places like the zoo. I always have to stay with Mrs. Figg, who likes cats."

Ron said quietly to Madam Pomfrey, "I think he was about ten when he went to the zoo. Mrs. Figg is a real person, and she does like cats, so that's probably true."

Ron's presence on Harry's bed seemed to be upsetting Harry, so he got in his own bed again, but couldn't keep from staring. What a nightmare! Harry was alive, but he had no memory of the last seven years!

Madam Pomfrey conjured Harry some breakfast and then went off to summon Professor Dumbledore. The two boys sat silently in their respective beds as one ate breakfast and the other pondered their unfortunate situation.

The initial shock of finding out about Harry's memory loss had worn off, and Ron was left with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach. The way Harry looked at him was devastating - there was no emotion behind his eyes. Harry didn't seem particularly worried that he had no memory. He was just interested in breakfast! What happened to his Harry - the one with the sultry smile and sparkle in his deep green eyes, who loved to laugh and wore his emotions so easily? Ron buried his head in his hands, hoping that he'd look up and discover it was all a bad dream.

Instead, the doors opened and Hermione and Susan entered the room. They greeted Ron, who watched as Hermione suddenly realized that Harry was in the next bed.

"Oh, thank goodness you're okay! We were so worried," she gushed, as she ran over to his bed and put her arms around him. She, too, knew something was wrong when Harry didn't return the embrace.

Harry looked at Ron. "I take it we're friends too, then?"

"Best friends for seven years. The three of us have been inseparable. Her name is Hermione Granger." Ron watched Hermione's jaw drop as she realized why Ron was telling him this.

"You mean, you don't remember anything? Not even Ron and me?" she said in disbelief.

Harry shook his head. "I didn't even know my own name until Ron told me." He looked at Susan, who had sat down on the end of Ron's bed without saying a word. "Do I know you too?" he asked.

"I'm Susan Bones. I'm Ron's girlfriend. Of course we know each other, but not that well." Susan felt awkward looking at him, so she turned her attention to Ron. She kissed him on the cheek and said, "I had no idea anything was wrong with you until Hermione told me in class this morning. Are you going to be all right?"

As Susan and Ron talked, Harry turned to Hermione, who was still perched on the edge of his bed. "I feel a little silly asking this... er ...Hermione, but do I have a girlfriend?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "You've been going out with Ron's sister Ginny for about four months. You'll see her later. She said she was going to visit Ron at lunch time."

As he was talking to Susan, Ron heard Hermione say Harry was dating Ginny. Merlin, what a disaster! As if it wasn't bad enough for Harry to see Susan kiss him, Ron would never be able to explain to Harry that his relationship with Ginny was a total sham. Inside he wanted to scream - the thought of losing what he had with Harry was becoming too much for him. For a brief moment he wished that he, too, had lost his memory so that he wouldn't have to feel the pain of this loss.

Ron looked toward the door as it opened again. Professor Dumbledore hurried over, a broad smile on his face, and his eyes twinkling merrily as ever over his half-moon glasses. He stopped in front of Harry's bed and grinned. Harry looked at Dumbledore with anticipation, knowing now that he should recognize this kindly man who was greeting him with such fondness, but feeling strangely void of emotion.

"Harry, welcome back to Hogwarts! You have been away for about three weeks. I am Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster. I understand that you have sustained some memory loss. Would you mind if I asked you a few questions?"

Harry said, "All right," but glanced uncomfortably at his audience. Hermione noticed this immediately and suggested loudly to Susan that they visit again after lunch. Susan gave Ron a hug and followed after Hermione reluctantly. Professor Dumbledore did not draw the curtains around Harry's bed, but instead sat in a chair between his bed and Ron's, effectively blocking Ron from Harry's view. It was almost as if Dumbledore felt that Ron had a right to hear what was being said as much as Harry had a right to some privacy.

Dumbledore asked about Harry's scar, and any other areas of his body that might be feeling pain. Ron was relieved to overhear that Harry was weak, but otherwise fine. Dumbledore asked Harry whether he remembered specific events, or feelings, or people. All of the questions were answered the same way - Harry had no recollection of anything. Ron heard Dumbledore ask if Harry remembered seeing lights: green, blinding white, anything. Ron could almost overhear Harry's brain trying to crystallize a vague thought.

"For some reason, when I think of green light, I remember my parents. But they died, didn't they? In a car crash, I think." Harry blinked hard, obviously trying to make some pieces fit together that didn't quite work.

"Yes, Harry, they are dead. But they did not die in a car crash. They were murdered many years ago by a Dark wizard named Voldemort." Dumbledore saw what he thought was a faint glimmer of recognition at the mention of Voldemort's name, so he paused. When he saw no further reaction, he said, "You did not know this, of course, until after you were accepted to Hogwarts, but the curse that killed your parents issues a distinctive green light."

"A Dark wizard? There are no such things as wizards. My Uncle Vernon says all the time that believing in things like wizards and sorcery is for the weak-minded who refuse to live in the real world," said Harry.

Ron was glad that Harry couldn't see him, as it was taking every ounce of energy for him to stifle his laughter. Dumbledore had forgotten to mention that the name of the school was Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, and that all the students were witches and wizards, including Harry himself. Ron lay quietly, anxious to hear how Dumbledore was going to handle this.

"Yes, there are some people who refuse to believe it, but the fact is, that we do exist. We are all wizards and witches here at Hogwarts. You don't remember this, but you happen to be one of the most powerful young wizards in this school."

Harry stared at Dumbledore, not believing him, yet desperately wanting to. He opened his mouth to speak, but was suddenly at a loss for words. This elderly gentleman had no reason to lie to him, and there was something about him that made Harry feel he could trust him.

"Harry," said Dumbledore softly, "I know this is difficult for you to believe, but you have just been through a terrible trauma which has damaged your brain's ability to retrieve your memories. I would like your permission to search your mind to see if the thoughts are still there, as I suspect, or if your memory has been wiped completely clean."

"What do you mean 'search my mind'? Are you saying that you can read my thoughts just by looking at me?" asked Harry, skeptically.

"It is a magic called Legilimency. It is not a common ability, but I have some skill in the area, and using it will allow me to determine whether it is even possible for you to regain your lost memory. It will not be painful, although it is possible that some of your memories might be. If you would like me to stop at any time, you may say so." Dumbledore gazed kindly at Harry.

"All right, then. If you think it will help," said Harry apprehensively.

Ron couldn't see anything from his bed, but he lay there quietly listening as Dumbledore uttered, "Legilimens." Ron heard nothing else, although he discovered he was anxiously holding his breath while straining to keep quiet.

Harry was amazed that, as he stared into this old man's eyes, he was able to see snippets of his memories that became suddenly familiar as he watched. He was sitting next to Hermione in a dreary dungeon as a professor was sneering at him with a malevolent glare.... He was running full speed down the hill from the castle to the lake, the whole school watching him. The stitch in his side was excruciating as a middle-aged wizard in horrid black and yellow robes blew a whistle, and he removed his shoes and socks and started chewing on some dried weeds.... He was cowering in his cupboard under the stairs at Privet Drive as Uncle Vernon pounded on the door.... He was kissing a pretty red-haired girl in the middle of a library, feeling surprised and pleased, and when they broke off the kiss he said, 'I'll get it for you - I can reach....' Soaring through the air at top speed, he was flying toward something gold, urging his broom all the way. He could see out of the corner of his eye that someone else was approaching. He reached out his hand and grabbed a flying golden ball out of the air, and the crowd in the stands below erupted cheering madly.... He and Ron were entering a cozy room with a fireplace and a four-poster bed with royal purple curtains. No - I'm not sure why, but you can't see this! He was surrounded by fifteen dark, hooded figures while a gaunt, pale man turned to face him and a horrific snake-like nose and red eyes were staring him down. He felt energy and love and heard a voice saying, 'I love you, Harry, and I'll protect you.' The snake-man pointed a wand at him and hissed, 'Avada Kedavra' and a green light flashed at him...

Harry shouted, "NO!" His breathing was labored and his heart was racing. He knew what that green light meant. Dumbledore ended the spell immediately and Madam Pomfrey came running from her office. Dumbledore eyed him with concern and uttered some calming words as Harry caught his breath and began to settle down.

"Were you able to see your memories?" asked Dumbledore finally. "I counted seven, including the one you kept me from seeing."

Harry thought about what he had remembered. Yes, there were seven scenes he could make out quite distinctly. He nodded.

Dumbledore turned to Madam Pomfrey. "Poppy, would you be so kind as to contact Healer Wilkes at St. Mungo's and ask him if he would be willing to see a patient here at Hogwarts in strict confidence?"

"Yes, Professor Dumbledore. I'll ask him at once," she answered, and returned quickly to her office.

"Harry," said Dumbledore, "I believe your memory is still intact, but that you have lost the ability to recall things at will. Those last four memories you saw all happened during this school year, and the last one occurred yesterday, just moments before the blast that killed Voldemort. We have asked a memory charm specialist to assess you and determine what course of treatment is advised to get you back to normal as soon as possible."

Harry was finding this whole episode a little overwhelming. How was this man able to see his memories? And why did he seem to know so much about him? "Sir," Harry asked, "What happened to cause my memory loss? Was it this blast you spoke of?"

Dumbledore paused, considering how best to answer this question. It seemed fair to tell Harry of his accomplishments, yet he didn't want to plant any false memories either. "You have been the focal point of a great battle to rid our world - the wizarding world - of a powerful evil force that threatened our way of life. The blast occurred when you used a magical weapon to defeat him. I believe your memory loss occurred when the connection you and he shared was broken by his death."

"We were connected? How?"

Dumbledore pointed at Harry's forehead. "The scar was given to you by Voldemort when you were a small child, and it created a connection whereby you and he could read each others thoughts and emotions." Harry touched his scar, and it was very tender.

"Voldemort!" Harry said suddenly. "He was that snake-like man in that memory, wasn't he?" Dumbledore nodded. "And I...killed him?" asked Harry.

"You dealt the final blow as part of a plan that was carried out by a hundred people over the course of twenty years. Your friend Ron was involved as well, and is probably the sole reason you survived that final memory you saw. Only a handful of people know that it was his job to protect you." Dumbledore smiled as Harry looked over at Ron, who was trying not to appear too interested in their conversation. Of course, he was hanging on every word.

"Thanks," said Harry to Ron. Ron smiled and nodded. He was grateful to Professor Dumbledore for explaining his role as Protector to Harry. Even if Harry didn't remember that they were lovers, he would at least know that Ron cared about him enough to save his life.

Madam Pomfrey appeared from her office again. "I've just reached Healer Wilkes by floo. He can be here at eight o'clock this evening." She turned to Harry. "Do you need anything, dear?" Harry shook his head. "And you, Mr. Weasley?"

"Just the loo," Ron said. Madam Pomfrey helped him out of bed and Harry watched as they tottered down the hall.

When he was out of earshot, Harry asked, "Professor, why is Ron here? Was he injured in the blast?"

Dumbledore said, "No, he was here at the time of the blast. He is here because the force required to protect you from Voldemort drained him of his energy. He will make a full recovery."

"But you said his job was to protect me. Why wasn't he with me?"

Dumbledore sighed, once again wondering how much to say. He glimpsed the Tyet of Isis charm. "He was able to channel protective magic through the charm which is hanging around your neck. It was empowered to create a special bond between you and Ron." Dumbledore stood up to leave. "Now, Harry, if you'll excuse me, I have a few matters to attend to. Try not to worry too much about your memory - we shall do everything in our power to put things right."

Harry watched as Dumbledore shook hands with Ron who was making his way back to bed. It was awfully tiring to end up in the hospital without a clue about anything while everyone around you knows your life's history. Harry put his glasses on the nightstand and rubbed his eyes. He fell asleep within minutes, never knowing that Ron was anxiously waiting to talk to him.