The Greatest Kind of Magic

11. The Lost Day

"...There was the trace of a ward on the library door. Whoever did this obviously planned it."

"But who would do something like this? Albus, you don't think a student..."

Where am I?

"Minerva, you and I both know that children are capable of terrible things..."

"Whoever did this is not a child, he's a monster."

Hurts... Everything... hurts...

A sigh; the voice, lowered in sadness: "No, Minerva. There are no monsters - only evil, that makes human beings do monstrous things..."

Liam groaned. His entire body was aching. Worse still, there was a pain on the inside, a horrible, dull pain gnawing at the inside of his chest, like knowing that something terrible had happened, but being unable to grasp what it was.

He opened his eyes slowly. He was expecting to see the red canopy of his bed, but instead was looking at a high, strangely familiar ceiling...

The hospital wing.

Somehow, with this knowledge, his pain doubled. He cried out, waking up fully.

Immediately, Madam Pomfrey was by his side, cup of potion in her hand. "Now now, easy there Mr Grady, you've had a rough night..."

Rough night?

He looked around wildly, taking in the neatly-made beds, Madam Pomfrey, and Professors Dumbledore and McGonagall, standing behind her. His stomach twisted unpleasantly.

"...Drink this, it'll help the pain..."

Liam accepted the cup gratefully, and took a few gulps. He shuddered at the taste, and the cup slipped from his shaking fingers, spilling the rest of the potion all over the bed.

"What happened?" he asked shakily, as Madam Pomfrey cleaned up the potion with her wand. "Why... How did I end up here?" Even as he asked, it hit him that he really didn't know. The pain in his chest seemed to worsen at this realisation.

"You were attacked," said Professor Dumbledore quietly.

The pain in Liam's chest was now a rising panic, because he could not remember being attacked. It began to dawn on him that in fact, he could not remember anything that had happened the previous day. And yet, he knew there was a day there, he knew that time had passed. But try as he might, he could not remember it.

Dumbledore sat down next to Liam, and looked into his eyes. Liam could not hold that gaze for long. The headmaster seemed to be looking right through him, into the very depths of his soul, and Liam was terrified that the turmoil there would come spilling out.

"A memory charm," concluded Dumbledore. "A clumsy one, at that."

"Can't you break it?" Liam begged desperately.

"I'm sorry, Liam, but it is too dangerous. It could damage your memory permanently."

"But I can't remember what happened to me! I... d-don't know..." he broke off, feeling sick.

"I'm sorry, Liam," said Dumbledore gently, placing a hand on Liam's shoulder. "All we know is that you were attacked in the library - we don't know by whom. They did not use Dark Magic. You will be fine - Madam Pomfrey says you can leave the hospital wing tonight."

"But..."

"Please. Just rest. I have called your parents - your mother is on her way to see you."

"Professor," said Liam urgently, seeing that the headmaster was about to leave. "What did they do to me?"

Dumbledore paused: he seemed to be considering Liam's question. Finally, he answered: "They used a few hexes to hurt you - the worst was a fire spell. Then they cast a memory charm and left you there."

Liam knew it was not the whole truth. "That's not it! There's more, I know there is!"

Dumbledore sighed. For a moment, he looked incredibly old. "Liam - I don't know exactly what happened to you. Madam Pince found you when she went to open the library. You had obviously been attacked, but we have no idea by whom. I'm sorry I cannot tell you anything else."

Liam clenched his fists in frustration, struggling against the rising panic. But he knew there was no point in trying to pry more information out of the headmaster.

Dumbledore prepared to leave, but McGonagall held back. She looked at Liam and pursed her lips. "Grady," she said, in a reluctant tone, "in light of this mishap as well as your recent bout of illness..." she paused, as if bracing herself for something unpleasant. Liam was terrified of what she might say - was there anything worse that could happen to him today? "...I excuse you from doing the latest two essays. You need not hand them in."

Liam let out the breath he'd been holding. Weak with relief, he nodded silently. McGonagall nodded back, and her tight lips turned up slightly in the corners. "Get well soon, Grady. You are really falling behind."

Liam nodded again, not knowing what to say. He knew he should be grateful, but all he could feel was a horrible, sickening terror. When the professors left, and Madam Pomfrey bustled off to attend to another patient, he rolled over on his side and hugged his chest, drawing his knees up to form a tight little ball.

They won't tell me what happened to me, but I know it was bad, I can feel it. Jesus, I've never been so scared before. I don't know what they did to me...

And try as he might, he could not dig up a single clear recollection of the previous day. He knew there was time there, he could feel the space of it in his mind, but he could not reach inside. All that remained was a lingering, but powerful impression of pain and fear. Not knowing what had caused it, however: that was the worst feeling of all.

What am I doing in this place... Dave, Jessie, Sarah - where are you guys? I'll come back and you'll all have changed, and I'll be an alien, just like I am here... Jesus, why does this shit keep happening to me? Dementors, the fire, now this... It was never so hard before, I had a normal life. What did I do? What did they do to me? God, if only I knew what they did to me...

He realised he was crying, and he tried to push it back, terrified that someone would hear. He forced himself to keep silent, but the tears wouldn't stop. He did not want anyone to know, hell, he didn't want himself to know, how scared and lonely and lost he was feeling. So he held on tight, and though he cried for a long time, and though every stifled sob felt like a knife twisting in his chest, he never made a sound. Not one.

***

Later, people came to see him, one after another. Tara came first, and Liam spoke to her briefly, though later he couldn't remember what he said. Eventually, the little girl left, confused and worried.

Soon afterwards, Harry showed up with Ron and Hermione. Liam did not want to talk. Worse, he was afraid they would ask him questions, and he knew he could not face that. So he closed his eyes and pretended to be asleep, so the trio left, talking quietly to each other.

No sooner had they gone, Ellie came in. Liam would have talked to her, but he remembered the fight. He still felt guilty about what had happened, and he couldn't face that any more than he could face questions about what had happened to him. So he pretended to sleep again, and Ellie too eventually left, though she stayed with him much longer than the others had done.

Then, for a while Liam was alone, and he had almost drifted off to sleep for real, when he heard soft footsteps that announced another visitor. Just leave me alone, he thought weakly. I just want to be alone.

"Liam?" It was Ginny's voice. "Are you awake?"

Liam didn't move, didn't open his eyes. He waited for her to leave, like the others, but she did not. She stood there for several minutes, and then Liam heard the scrape of a chair on the floor, and the rustle of Ginny's robes as she sat down.

"I don't know what happened to you, but I know how you feel," she said quietly. "It feels like your life has fallen out of your control, and it's terrifying. You keep imagining what you might've done - or what's been done to you. And you try to remember, but it's always just out of reach. And it feels like you're falling apart."

Stunned, Liam opened his eyes to stare at her. "How did you know I lost my memory?"

"Your sister told me."

Liam said nothing. A minute, maybe more, passed in silence. Finally, Ginny asked, "How much did you forget?"

"All of yesterday," Liam replied tonelessly. "And I can feel it there, I know that a day has passed, but I can't remember any of it."

Ginny hesitated. "Well... At breakfast, Ron got a pea stuck up his nose," she told him. When Liam made no response, she continued. "Hermione yelled at him for being childish, and then used some kind of spell to get it out. It popped out, and flew across the table and landed in Lavender's milk. Lavender screamed, but Harry and Ron were laughing, and you were too, you saw the whole thing. Then Hermione yelled at all of you, she said you had no respect, how can you be so childish at a time like this. And I was mad at you all too, because I kept on thinking of Melanie." Ginny hunched her shoulders as she mentioned her dead friend; her face tightened.

"Ginny..." began Liam, but she was already speaking again.

"...So I left breakfast, and I didn't see you again until Transfiguration. But then in Transfiguration, you sat next to me, and Colin Creepy tried to ask me out again. I was trying to turn him down politely, though really I wanted to scream at him, how could he be so insensitive? But then you just muttered, 'Can't you just get a hint, mate!'"

Ginny's posture seemed to relax a little; the corners of her mouth twitched with a suppressed grin. "I don't think you meant to say it out loud, but Colin heard, and he went off in a huff, and I actually laughed, for the fist time since Saturday, and then I felt bad for laughing, but at the same time, I sort of felt better. McGonagall came in and we had to transfigure worms into lizards. You tried, and yours took on lizard shape, but it had no bones, it just sort of flopped on the table. And you said "Hell, I'm never gonna get the hang of this, might as well just drop me to first year now," but McGonagall said you should try harder, so you did and you got a lizard with bones in it. It was still sort of soft and slimy, but it was by far the best bit of Transfiguration you've done."

Liam had sat up in bed, and was listening with rapt attention, absorbing every word that Ginny uttered. He still could not remember the events she described, but as she talked, he found himself recalling feelings and impressions, pleasant ones, which gradually began nudging away the horror and pain.

"Nothing much happened at dinner, but afterwards, we worked together on our Transfiguration essay. You also practiced transfiguring things, though it didn't always work. You did manage to transfigure your book into a bat, only then we couldn't transfigure it back, and we had to get Hermione to help us. It flapped around the ceiling, and she had to chase it around before she managed to aim a spell at it. By the time she got it back to its normal form, it was time for the DA meeting, and we all went together. Luna met us just outside the common room, it was freaky really, like she just knew we would appear. But maybe she was just waiting outside the door, I don't know. We got there early, and you were asking about the Room of Requirement, which is where DA meetings are - it's this great room, which only appears when you really need it, and it'll be equipped with exactly what you need. Then people arrived, and we had the meeting. No one could hear Harry, so you whistled, it was so loud, and then everyone listened..."

She recounted everything she could remember about what was said at the DA meeting. Then she went back and described what they had for breakfast, lunch and dinner, and what coat Professor McGonagall was wearing, and what they said to each other as they worked on their essay. Liam drank it all in, though many of the details were ones he would never have noticed, or remembered, himself. Finally, Ginny seemed to run out of breath, and she stopped. "Does that help?" she asked.

When Liam managed to find his voice, he replied, "Yes. You have no idea. Thanks so much."

There was a pause, as Ginny seemed to consider something, her eyes downcast and her face serious. Finally, she looked up again, to meet Liam's gaze. "Liam," she said cautiously. "There's something else that happened at the DA meeting. It was before the meeting started, actually."

"What?" he asked, apprehensive.

"Oh, it's not anything bad, don't worry." She smiled, though it seemed strained. "You see, when we were telling you about the Room of Requirement, Ron mentioned the Chamber of Secrets. He probably shouldn't have done it, because it's not a nice story, and it's to do with me, and I didn't want to bring it up - but it was unfair to you, so I promised to tell you later."

Liam listened silently, wondering why she was telling him this.

"And I know you don't remember me promising you, but I did promise, and I'm going to tell you."

"You don't have to if you don't want to," Liam assured her. "Like you said, I don't even remember you promising me."

"Yes, but... I want to tell you. Sort of. Well, maybe I don't, but I think I should. Look, just be quiet and listen."

So she told him, about the Chamber and the attacks and the Basilisk and Tom Riddle. It was not a smooth tale - she kept stopping and pausing, and going back to events she had forgotten to mention. Liam could see she was not happy talking about this, but once she started, she did not seem to want to stop. Eventually, her tale was over, and Liam was staring at her in stunned admiration, his own troubles temporarily forgotten. "And you... you were only eleven?" he asked finally. "You were possessed by... You-Know-Who... when you were eleven?"

Ginny nodded, swallowing. "And that's why I know what it's like for you - I know just how scary it is, not to know what's happened to you or what you've been doing. That's why I wanted to tell you."

Liam shook his head in disbelief. "Jesus Christ." Then, a truly disturbing thought occurred to him. "Hey... you don't think that's what happened to me?"

"No... I mean, Dumbledore said it was a memory charm, didn't he?"

"Yes, but..."

"Dumbledore is usually right about stuff like this. And also, you said you can feel that there's a day there - well, I could never feel that. I'd... wake up, and I wouldn't know how I got to where I was, and I'd wonder where all the time went..." She shuddered. "It was so... horrible."

Liam, though he couldn't help feeling relieved, mentally kicked himself for being so stupid. And what was he doing, feeling sorry for himself, when Ginny had gone through that when she was just eleven? "Ginny, I'm sorry. You... didn't have to tell me that. But I appreciate it."

"Don't say sorry. You always apologise for stuff that's not your fault. And like I said, I wanted to tell you. It was hard, that's all."

Liam smiled, actually smiled. "Well, thank you, then. Are you gonna tell me I shouldn't say thank you?"

"No," she replied, and smiled back. "You're welcome."

Liam realised that he was feeling much better. The pain from his injuries was almost gone - clearly, Madam Pomfrey's potion was taking effect. The gnawing sick feeling was still there inside, because he still did not know what had happened to him, and it still scared him. But with Ginny there, it was not so bad.

"You know what I don't get, though?" he asked her after a while. "Why my rogue magic didn't help me. I mean... whatever it was that happened to me, it must've been pretty bad, or I wouldn't be in the hospital wing. And every time in the past that I've been in real serious trouble, something would happen to get me out of it. It's never failed me before."

Ginny considered this. "Maybe because you're doing so much wand magic, that you can't do it anymore?"

"I don't think so. I'm still hopeless at wand magic, for the most part."

"But you have been using it. Whether or not you're good at it doesn't matter."

"Yeah, but surely it wouldn't disappear after just a month? And... Harry mentioned that he still made stuff happen, even after five years at Hogwarts. Small stuff, mind you. But still."

"Well... maybe you did make something happen, but it didn't help you. Like, maybe you made a window explode somewhere else in the castle, or something."

"But it usually does something to help me!"

"Really? Every time?"

Liam remembered Davey's party. Bottles and windows smashing, but the girl still bleeding on the floor. "Not every time," he said. In fact, he realised with sudden clarity, the times I've really needed it, it's failed me.

***

Jeremy was drifting on the edge of sleep, his semi-conscious mind throwing up images of fire and blood and leering faces. He struggled desperately to get away, but they followed him to whatever mental recesses he could find, and always, always, he heard Grady's voice, screaming obscenities and then, silenced.

With a wrench, Jeremy pulled himself awake, though the dreams remained, haunting the edge of his memory. Not bloody dreams, it really happened... I did that...

His eyes snapped open. He wanted to see the outside world, to get away from the horror behind his eyes. Still, the memories pursued him, but the images were not quite so vivid when pasted over the grim vaulted ceiling...

Why is the ceiling so close?

The Slytherin dormitories were dim, murky rooms, with gloomy stone walls and ridiculously high ceilings. And yet here was the ceiling, just several feet above Jeremy's face, and he knew that if he stood up, he could touch it.

But standing up, it turned out, was not as simple as it sounded. Not a single muscle in his back or arms or legs would respond to his command. He couldn't even turn his head. He flicked his eyes from side to side, hoping to see what was going on. On the edge of his vision, he saw the figure of Kenneth Bauer, stiff as a log and floating just under the ceiling.

It was only then that Jeremy began to scream, hollering for help at the top of his lungs.

But try as he might, not a single sound came out.

***

Severus Snape frowned and grunted in contempt as he put another cross on the parchment. "Pitiful, Potter," he muttered. "Why Dumbledore makes me put up with you is beyond my understanding."

He read for another minute, then threw the paper down in disgust. "Mugwort!" he raged. "Mugwort? Even Longbottom got this right! Of all the idiotic, ignorant, arrogant..."

There was an urgent knocking on the door.

"What is it?" barked Snape.

The door opened to admit Samuel Wong, the Slytherin fifth-year prefect. "Sir," panted Wong, who had obviously been running. "You'd better come... Something's happened..."

"What happened, Wong? I haven't got all day!"

"In the dormitories... You'd better come..."

Snape pursed his lips and stood up. This had better be important, he thought. He set off briskly towards the Slytherin dungeon, Wong jogging to keep up. "We don't know how it happened..." panted the prefect. "We just woke up, and they were like that... We didn't know what to do..."

They stopped outside the bare, damp stretch of wall that didn't mark the entrance to the Slytherin common room. "Wizard Pride," barked Snape, and the wall slid open. He stepped inside, and followed Wong down the narrow stairs to the fifth-year boys' dormitory.

The dormitory was as it had always been - a long, gloomy room, with cast-iron four-poster beds lined up against one wall.

"Well?" he asked, becoming angrier by the minute. "What's the problem?"

"Look," said Wong simply, and pointed up.

Snape followed his gaze, over the green canopies of the beds, over the serpent carved into the wall above them, over the bare, grey stones...

Jeremy Leighton and Kenneth Bauer were floating just under the ceiling. They were completely immobile, their legs straight, their arms by their sides, stiff as logs.

"It's not just them," said Wong. "All the sixth-years are like that, and one third-year. And some of the girls, too, apparently."

Snape grunted in response. "Get Flitwick," he ordered the prefect. Then, as an afterthought, he added, "And McGonagall. I can't go into the girls' dormitories."

It took the three professors almost an hour to get all the floating students back on the ground. They did not respond to the standard counter-spells, and it took a lot of complicated wand-work on Professor Flitwick's part, before they were all mobile again. McGonagall removed the silencing charms. As she did, she could not help noting that out of the fourteen students, seven were the children of convicted Death Eaters, while most of the others came from backgrounds that were dubious at best.

She knew there was no point in asking them what had happened, though she tried anyway. All any of the Slytherins would say was, "We woke up like that."

When the professors finally left the Slytherin dungeon, Flitwick immediately went in search of Dumbledore. The Headmaster would certainly need to know of this latest development.

When he was gone, and McGonagall had checked that the hallway was empty of students, she turned to Snape. "You do know what this looks like, don't you?"

"Rogue magic," Snape replied shortly. "What of it?"

McGonagall clicked her tongue impatiently. "You know perfectly well, what of it! You must have heard about Grady?"

"Yes, I have. Dumbledore has told me everything. So what?"

"Severus..."

"You can't prove anything. That's the trouble with rogue magic. You can never really tell who's responsible."

McGonagall wanted to stamp her foot in frustration, but of course, she restrained herself. "Severus, sometimes I wonder, whose side are you on? Grady was hexed to within an inch of his life! And he's the only student in this school that's capable of this kind of rogue magic!"

"Yes, but that still does not implicate the Slytherins. All it does is get Grady into trouble for attacking them!"

"Severus, you and I both know who attacked whom. I can't believe you're taking this so lightly! We're not talking about a simple jelly-legs jinx here!"

Snape stopped, and sighed, and turned to face her. "Yes, and that's the problem. They were cunning enough not to use any Dark Magic, not even a common jinx - they used ordinary household hexes, which they might have used to light a fire or cut a sheet of parchment. Even if we took their wands, and used the Prior Incantato, all we would see would be a bit of fire, and the trace of a slashing hex. We would not see what - or whom - they were used on."

McGonagall frowned. As much as she hated to admit defeat, Severus was right. And yet, she knew those Slytherins were responsible for the attack; she knew Liam's rogue magic had carried out an odd sort of revenge - but there was no way to prove it. The injustice of it all was infuriating.

"Keep an eye on that lot, Severus," said McGonagall sternly. "There might mot be any proof, but we both know they did it. There will be more trouble from them, you mark my words." She paused, but Snape made no reply.

McGonagall pursed her lips, but made no other outward sign of her frustration. "I'm going to talk to Dumbledore," she said finally. "He will certainly not let this matter rest."

As she left Snape and hurried to the headmaster's office, McGonagall could not help thinking that Hogwarts was slowly slipping out of the teachers' control. The war had seeped in through the castle walls, and the school was becoming another battleground.

***

Mrs Grady arrived around lunchtime. Ginny had been ushered unceremoniously out of the hospital wing several hours before, and Liam had fallen asleep. He was awoken quite suddenly by his mother's tight, desperate hug. "Oh Liam... My poor boy... what did those monsters do to you?"

"Mum," he panted, trying to disentangle himself from her embrace, "I'm all right. Really! Mum... you're... hurting me..."

She let go immediately, and Liam took a deep breath. He silently thanked Ginny for her visit - he was calm enough now to reassure his mother believably. "Mum, it's really not so bad. I don't know why they made such a fuss. It was just a fight." He felt a little guilty for lying, but this was one of those times when telling the truth was completely out of the question. Mum would have a heart attack, he thought grimly.

"Just a fight? Then why are you in the hospital wing? Oh Liam, I'm so sorry I made you come here... I had no idea, I never realised that I'd be putting you right into the heart of danger!"

"Mum! I told you, it's not..."

But Mrs Grady was not listening to a word he said - it seemed she had been preparing this speech in her mind, and was determined to get it out, no matter what. "Liam, I made you come here because I thought you would be safer, and because I wanted you to learn magic. But it seems that nowhere is safe, and Hogwarts is the worst place of all! I should have known it would be the first place hit. After that pub burned down - I was so terrified that you might have been in there! Thank Merlin's fortune that Tara is too young to go there..."

"Mum..."

"No, Liam, let me finish! I realise now that you'd be much better off back at Stonewall High. In fact, I'm thinking of transferring Tara there, as well."

Liam sucked in his breath. This, he had not expected. He thought his mother would rant for a while and then burst into tears and probably complain about the running of the school, but not this.

Back to Stonewall. Back to Davey and Sarah and Jessie and jokes and football. Back to my keyboards, my guitar, my lessons. Going to parties, movies, working at McDonald's, studying maths and history and English...

Just like old times.

For a moment, he was tempted. Then he shook his head, to clear the illusion. No, it would not be just like old times. It would never be just like old times, ever again. Too much had changed; too much had happened to him. Somehow, somewhere along the line, he had become involved. The magical world had taken him in, and given him a part in it. Yes, that was it: he was a part of something now, that was bigger than homework, bigger than football, bigger even than music. The war of the wizarding world was here inside Hogwarts, and he, Liam had a part to play. He couldn't turn his back on it now.

"Mum. Listen. You're overreacting. I had a fight, and it got out of hand - you know what magical duels are like, and I can't defend myself too well, yet. And the attack on Hogsmeade - well, that was bad, but I'm all right..."

"You were in hospital for four days!"

"That was pneumonia! That had nothing to do with the attack! Look, Mum, you can't send me back! And Tara would kill herself before she'd go to a Muggle school! We're wizards, we can't be forced out of Hogwarts!"

Mrs Grady shook her head in disbelief. "But I thought you'd want to go back!"

Liam sighed. "I do. But... I want to stay, too. I've made some friends here, and I actually like learning magic, I'm finally starting to get better."

"What about your old friends? What about your music?"

Liam steeled himself, taking a deep breath. "I can see them in the holidays," he said. "And music - well, it's not like I was learning much of that at Stonewall anyway. I can always... get back to it later."

It was the hardest thing he had ever had to say. A part of him screamed, Don't do this! This is your chance, you can go back, you can do what you've always dreamed of! Your music, Liam! Don't turn your back on the one thing that keeps you together!

I'm not turning my back, he thought defiantly, though that other part of him was screaming in protest. I can still play. And I'll get back to it, once this is all over. I will. I promise.

"Liam... are you sure about this?" asked Mrs Grady.

Liam nodded, though it hurt him more than he could have ever imagined.

There was no going back now.