Persistence of Memory

Persistence of Memory

Chapter 6

"Shop with a window... Shop with a window," Ron muttered to himself, traipsing about the streets of Hogsmeade in no particular direction.

After awaking from another nap in the pub, Ron thought it best to actively seek out Harry and Hermione. He felt rather bad for not going with them. It wasn't Harry's fault he was a nutcase and Ron should have been more supportive, being his best friend and all.

Ron shivered and stopped walking. He peered down the alleyway and caught sight of what must have been a recently opened shop, as Ron hadn't seen it before, though it seemed quite dirty and decrepit. Ron wandered down the alley, his eyes darting from side to side in the darkness. The shop was suspiciously ominous and had a very large bay window on either side of the half-open door.

"Huh. Shop with a window."

Ron pushed the door open and stepped inside. The shop was deserted, yet someone had definitely been there recently. Dusty footprints trailed off to the right.

"Harry!" Ron called, his voice echoing through the spacious room. "Hermione! Anyone here?"

Not one sound answered his calls. Ron shut the door behind him and ventured further into the dingy shop. A cauldron plummeted from a shelf above his head and something large and furry jumped onto his back. Ron screamed and attempted to knock off the monster in blind panic before he recognized the stocky red feline.

"Crookshanks," Ron breathed in relief. "What are you doing here? Where's Hermione, boy?"

Crookshanks leaped off Ron's shoulder and onto a counter top. He stared at Ron with his unblinking cat eyes. Ron sighed. He was trying to pry information out of a bloody cat.

"Fat lot of good you are," he grumbled.

Crookshanks seemed to take offence. He meowed loudly and ran off behind a tall bookshelf. Ron glanced around the room, hoping to see some sign of where his friends had gone or what they had found. He refused to let himself think of the possibility that You-Know-Who had been there waiting for them. Ron walked behind a shelf of glass jars with detached fingers in them, swallowing thickly when one twitched violently.

"What?" Ron mused aloud, spying Hermione's bright yellow cardigan draped over a rickety chair. He walked over to pick it up. When his fingertips touched the material, he felt something pressing against his leg.

"Crookshanks, stop scaring me," Ron demanded of the stupid cat.

Crookshanks didn't move. Ron flung the cardigan over his shoulder and reached down to smack Crookshanks, but he wasn't there. Instead, a severed arm appeared to be grabbing Ron's leg. Ron shut his eyes and backed away in horror, ramming his back against the bookshelf and knocking a few trinkets to the floor. After the clattering ceased, Ron forced himself to open his eyes.

"Oh, no... no..." Ron whispered to himself.

The severed arm wasn't severed after all, but still firmly attached to Hermione's prone body. Crookshanks was sitting on her stomach with her broken wand in his mouth. He looked up at Ron with big, sad, murky green eyes.

"Hermione," Ron dropped to his knees beside her and shook her gently. "Wake up, Hermione... please."

Ron ran his fingers over Hermione's cheek. Her face was ice cold and ghostly white. Ron whimpered and hugged himself, his eyes locked on his dead friend. Crookshanks wandered over to Ron and licked his shoe. Ron shifted his eyes to the cat.

"Oh, God, Crookshanks... What happened? What happened?" Ron cried, grabbing the cat and squeezing him a bit too hard. Ron rubbed Crookshank's rust-coloured head as the cat nuzzled against him.

After Ron had calmed down a little, Crookshanks struggled out of his embrace and trotted across the room near a staircase. He meowed piteously and tilted his head to the side. Ron slowly got up from the floor and carefully stepped over Hermione's body, laying the cardigan on top of it. He made his way around tables and shelves to Crookshanks, very afraid of what he might see.

"W-what is it, boy?"

Crookshanks meowed again and rubbed up against someone's boot. Ron gulped and stepped closer. He broke down into tears as Harry became visible. Ron reached out and grasped Harry's hand, which was stiff and lifeless. Ron picked up Harry's mangled glasses and held them out before him. He took his wand from his pocket and tapped them. He placed the repaired glasses on Harry's face.

"That's better," Ron sniffled. He wiped his nose and made his way out of the shop to find a professor; preferably McGonagall, as the Headmaster had not travelled to Hogsmeade with the students.

----

Ron ran from the Dark Arts shop, his wand still in his hand in case the Dark Lord saw fit to return before he made it back to the pub. In the alleyway, he spotted a scarf on the ground that he hadn't noticed on his way through before. Hermione and Harry had not been wearing scarves. Ron took a deep breath and walked semi-calmly over to the gold and burgundy scarf. Lying not two feet from it was the body of Colin Creevey. Ron felt himself about to faint until he heard Ginny's scream from out in the street.

"Ginny," Ron gasped and raced out of the alley, nearly tripping over Colin's leg.

When he reached the mouth of the alley, he saw two people standing outside Zonko's down at the end of the street. Ron ran as fast as he could to reach them. Ginny came into view, standing opposite Seamus, who had his wand out and was pointing at her. Dean's motionless body lay between them. It hadn't been You-Know-Who at all.

"GINNY!" Ron shouted, waving his arms and trying to get his legs to move quicker. "GINNY! Seamus, don't do it!"

Ron's foot came in contact with a large chunk of stone sticking out of the street. He tumbled and skidded across the road, skinning every bit of exposed flesh. Ron scrambled back to his feet, wincing in pain.

"Avada Kedavra!"

"NO!" Ron wailed.

Ginny flew back a few feet as if she'd been hit by an invisible battering ram. Seamus stood over her with a nasty smile on his face. Ron shouted in fury and ran to them. He knocked Seamus to the ground and snatched the wand away from him, flinging it over by Dean.

Seamus blinked in bewilderment and looked up at Ron, who immediately punched him in the face, breaking his nose.

"Ow! R-ron, what're-"

"Shut up!" Ron screeched, wrapping his hands around Seamus's neck. "I'll kill you, you bastard! How, how c-could you do that!? G-Ginny and Dean and Hermione and Colin and Ha-Harry!"

Ron let go and sat on the ground, his strength depleted. Seamus coughed and tried to sit up. Ron crawled over to Ginny and laid his head on her stomach. He clutched her rapidly-cooling hand as tightly as he could manage without breaking the delicate bones.

Seamus sat up slowly and stared at Ron and Ginny. Ginny was clearly dead. How the hell did that happen? The last thing Seamus knew, Dean had been hit by a curse and Ginny had screamed.

"Ron? W-what happened? How did...?"

Ron snarled and pounced on Seamus, knocking him back on the ground.

"How?" Ron shrieked. "You did it! You killed my sister!"

"What? I-I... N-no... I di- I didn't, I-" Seamus frowned in thought. He could see himself holding out his wand and using the Killing Curse on Ginny, but it was dream-like and foggy. He must have done it if Ron had seen it, but Seamus couldn't remember consciously committing the act.

----

Dean moaned and propped himself up on his elbows. His head felt as if it had been crushed. He slowly opened his eyes and surveyed his surroundings in puzzlement. A red-haired girl lay on the ground behind two boys who appeared to be fighting. The taller one had a crooked stick pointed at the other. Dean was about to ask them if they could tell him where he was and how he got there, but another boy arrived. The shorter boy paled visibly at the sight of him.

"Ron, no!" the new boy yelled, prying the stick from the tall boy's hand.

"He killed Ginny!" Ron shouted back, sniffling a bit.

"I know, but you can't kill him, Ron! You'll only end up in Azkaban too. Ginny wouldn't want it that way," the blond boy said quietly, patting Ron on the back and smirking subtly at the pale boy.

"He's the one doin' it all!" the sandy-haired boy accused. "Ron, I didn't kill 'em! Well, I-I did do Ginny, but I swear i-it wasn't me... N-not really-"

Dean let his attention drift from the arguing trio and looked at the girl on the ground. She must have been Ginny. She didn't seem dead, really. Just sleeping peacefully, her hair pooled out around her head in a lovely, yet somewhat dingy, halo. Dean wondered if they were perhaps playing a game. Surely, this Ron character couldn't hope to kill the boy with a stick. Dean observed them a moment longer, and then decided it was certainly a game. After all, the boy who had 'killed' Ginny was sporting little horns.

"Um, pardon me..." Dean started, struggling to get up from the ground. Ron and the blond stared at him with shocked expressions, though the latter's seemed rather forced. The boy with horns looked relieved.

"Dean!" Ron yelped in surprise. "You're alive!"

"Of course he's alive!" the horned boy commented. "He'll tell you what 'appened! It 'ad to be the Imperius Curse, it did. N-Neville killed 'em all, didn't he Dean?"

Dean felt somewhat uncomfortable with them all looking at him expectantly. He scratched his ear and avoided eye contact.

"Er, would... Would I be this 'Dean', then? I, um... I don't... Where are we?" Dean asked, trying to remember anything familiar about the strange people who seemed to know him.

"No, no, this is not happenin'!" Horn Boy screeched and stomped his foot.

"It makes perfect sense now," Blondie said, holding up a finger. "Seamus couldn't bring himself to kill Dean, but Dean saw him kill the others so he had to be dealt with somehow."

"R-right," Ron agreed, narrowing his eyes. "He was jealous of Ginny. I mean really jealous. I caught him in Dean's bed at least four times."

"B-but we were jus' talking!"

"Shut up, Seamus! You know it's true. You were so envious of my sister you could scream. You fabricated all these pathetic stories to draw attention to yourself because you couldn't fathom that Dean might have found someone else to devote his precious time to," Ron stated, his eyes watering.

Dean shook his head. He didn't recall any of that. Has to be a dream, he thought and wandered away from the odd scene, pinching his arm.

----

Narcissa and Severus sat at an outside table near the Three Broomsticks drinking their seventh and twelfth bottles of firewhiskey, respectively. Professors Sprout and McGonagall had left Hogsmeade earlier with the students. However, some certain troublemakers hadn't shown at the appointed time and Severus had been nominated to wait for them. Narcissa offered to stay as well, for fear the Potions master might curse them all should they return.

"Bloody Gryffindors," Severus grumbled, firewhiskey dribbling out of the corner of his mouth.

"Oh, they're not all bad," Narcissa argued. "That Neville's a sweetheart."

Severus choked on his whiskey. "Longbottom!? What in Merlin's name is wrong with you, woman? Ugh, Longbottom," Severus said disdainfully, shuddering.

Dean Thomas emerged from an alleyway to their right looking quite lost and frightened. He noticed the professors and wandered up to the pub, slightly apprehensive.

"H-hello," Dean greeted, waving a little and trying to smile.

"You're late, Thomas," Narcissa sneered. "Where are the rest of those hooligans?"

"Thomas?" Dean questioned, massaging his temple. "I thought... They said my name was Dean... I'm so confused. Do you know where I live?" he snivelled. "Can I go h-home now?"

Severus eyed the boy with well-disguised concern. Dean might be a useless Gryffindor, but he wasn't one to pull pranks of this calibre. Come to think of it, half of the missing students were not likely to forget when they were meant to return to the pub. Potter and Weasley, maybe, but Granger would have certainly informed them. Severus cleared his throat and put on his best encouraging smile, which closely resembled his degrading smirk.

"Your name is Dean Thomas. This is Hogsmeade and you do not live here. You attend Hogswarts School and coming here is an excursion that the students are allowed to take on certain weekends. I cannot take you home at this juncture, but we'll get this all straightened out after we see the Headmaster."

"Hogwarts? Hogsmeade? What kind of names are those?" Dean asked suspiciously. The strange cloak-clad people were probably from some sort of religious cult.

"I'll explain it all in detail later, but I need to know where the other students are."

"Er, there were three boys down by a shop called Gonzo's... an-and a dead girl. Well, they said she was dead and they mentioned other dead people, but I didn't see them," Dean stated. "I don't think they were really dead. You can't kill people with li'l sticks... can you?"

Severus and Narcissa exchanged worried glances and drew their wands. They instructed the bewildered Dean to stay inside the Three Broomsticks and headed for Zonko's.

Half-way to the shop, they spotted Longbottom and Weasley walking towards them. Weasley had his sister's body in his arms and Longbottom was dragging an unconscious Finnigan along the street by one foot. Needless to say, it was not what Severus and Narcissa had been expecting.

A teary-eyed Ron described the shop where he found Granger, Potter, and Creevey. He continued to explain the situation, with a few anti-Seamus interjections from Neville. Narcissa stayed to comfort the boys while Severus collected the bodies. The Headmaster would certainly not be pleased. Not to mention now that Potter was dead, Voldemort could easily take over the Wizarding world. Severus planned on handing in his resignation as soon as they returned to the castle and rejoining the Death Eaters. He always found it prudent to be on the winning side.

Epilogue

Seamus flinched as a heavy barred door shut somewhere down the hall. He huddled in a grimy corner and stared at the cracks in the floor. It was very chilly in his tiny Azkaban cell. Seamus suddenly wished he'd worn his mother's Argyle socks like she'd suggested repeatedly.

He quickly pushed thoughts of his mother out of his head as his entire being seemed to freeze. The Dementors were exactly as everyone had described. They sucked any remotely happy memory right out of his head and made him feel horrible and absolutely alone.

No one had believed him when he'd accused Neville of the murders. They'd asked him why the last spell performed with his wand had been the Killing Curse while Neville's had been a harmless 'Wingardium Leviosa'. Seamus had no answer. He still wasn't quite certain it wasn't all in his head. Eventually, he had confessed to every one of the killings, if only so he wouldn't have to think about it anymore.

He tried to conjure up a picture of a smiling Dean in his mind, but it faded before it came into focus. Seamus settled for an angry yelling Dean as he often did. He'd decided that memories of Dean telling him off or completely ignoring him were better than no memories of Dean at all. Unfortunately, thinking of Dean led to thinking of Neville and what the evil psychopath had done. If the Dementors ever left the prison again, Seamus would break out and give Neville what he deserved. Until then, he was semi-content to prepare his ultimate revenge.

----

"There's an extra few galleons in there," Neville said, handing Malcolm a small velvet sack full of money, "for a job well done. It didn't work out like I'd originally thought, but that was a nice save with the Imperius Curse."

Malcolm nodded his head and stuffed the sack into his pocket. "Pleasure doin' business with you, Mr. Longbottom."

Neville and Malcolm parted ways and headed to their separate common rooms, never to interact with each other again. Neville sighed with slight disappointment, fingering the ancient Dark Arts book in his bag. He had very much wanted to try something more interesting than a nightmare potion on Seamus, but now he'd have to pick a new victim. After Trevor's death, Neville had a driving initiative to gain knowledge of any Dark Arts material he could get his podgy hands on.

He entered the Gryffindor Common Room, nodding to Lavender and Parvati who were sitting on the sofa and flipping through some magazine or other. Neville trudged up to the boys' dormitory and found Ron sitting on his bed, sniffling softly.

Ron turned a page of his photograph album and smiled sadly as he watched Harry and Hermione wave up at him from the picture. The next page had a large photo of Fred, George, Percy, Ginny, and himself in their Hogwarts uniforms. Ginny was standing between the twins and grinning happily.

"It's not fair!" Ron slammed the book shut and flung it across the room. It landed with a soft thud on the empty bed that used to be Dean's. Dean was now in St. Mungo's probably helping Gilderoy Lockhart sign autographs for non-existent fans.

"Why did they have to die!?" Ron wailed. He buried his head in his lumpy pillow and sobbed.

Neville scowled, sitting down on his bed. Ron had been crying for a month straight and it was beginning to get on Neville's nerves. He pulled out a box from under his bed and picked up Trevor the Second, his old and mouldy Chocolate Frog.

"What say we try that blindness curse on him tomorrow, Trevor? What; you don't think that's evil enough?"

Neville frowned at Trevor. The frog just sat on Neville's hand, slowly melting. Neville placed Trevor in his other hand and licked the chocolate goo off his palm.

"I thought we'd start off slow... The Cruciatus Curse? No, Trevor, that's where I messed up with Seamus. I shouldn't have used something that damaging first... Yes, I did want to drive him insane, but not that quickly... Oh, shut up, Trevor! You're not helping."

"Neville," Ron spoke up from two beds over, "who are you talking to?"

"I-I wasn't talking, Ron," Neville said delicately. "Perhaps you're hearing voices."