Obliviate

Obliviate - Chapter 5

Another evening without anything to do meant another boring, lonely night reading a book by the fire. Or rather, that's what it had meant in the past. Ever since Albus Dumbledore, the odd man who lived in her fireplace, had unexpectedly entered her home a few weeks ago, Nora had avoided lighting any fires when at all possible. Sitting in her comfy chair and relaxing in the warmth of the fire was half the novelty of staying home in the first place - now that she was afraid to use the fireplace, the prospect of reading in her bedroom was quite dull indeed.

Nora looked disapprovingly at her watch. It was seven o'clock. She sighed and tapped the face, hoping the arms would magically wind around and right themselves to a more suitable hour. It couldn't really only be seven - there wasn't anything to do! A slight frown spread across her lips and she stared dejectedly at her reflection in a mirror hanging on a nearby wall.

"Nora," she said wearily to herself. "You're twenty years old and living on your own. Why aren't you out partying?"

Silence followed her question and served as a sour reminder that she was alone.

She wandered over into her sitting room and fell back into her favorite armchair, drawing her knees up to her chest and resting her chin atop the backs of her hands. What was she doing with herself?

Nothing.

Somewhere along the way in her teens, her conservative mother had convinced her that pursuing a higher education was a waste of time and that she should stay close to home. Nora had protested strongly in the beginning but she had gradually lost the war of attrition. Although they had both lived under the same roof, the battle had been fought on her mother's home turf; every day the woman had found a way to sneak in a jab against Nora.

"Nora," she'd say, "you wouldn't ever leave your dear old mother here to look after herself, would you?"

She had played the guilt card against her daughter brilliantly, especially since Nora didn't want to study just anywhere - she'd wanted to travel, to see the world, to be somewhere else and immerse herself in an entirely different culture. France, Egypt, Japan, Brazil, America - it wouldn't have mattered where. Just so long as she was somewhere outside Britain. But fate had had something else in mind for Nora, and two and a half years later, she found herself not in Paris or Kyoto, but instead living in a flat barely a mile away from her mother.

How quickly the hopes and dreams of youth could be crushed by the depressing confines of the real world. Sometimes Nora wished she could go back to the days when she was fifteen or sixteen, the days when her war hadn't already been lost and when she might have had even a marginal say in her future.

Those days were gone. She was an adult, living alone now, albeit within arms reach of her mother's flat. But she was finally on her own, which meant it was up to her to make decisions for herself. So what was she going to do?

While she and her mother didn't always see eye to eye on many subjects, they had always managed to put aside their differences one day of every week and go to church. And so at the moment, being an active church-goer and volunteer was the only thing Nora had in her life besides her mother and her job working retail.

However, those things could only take up so much time on their own; the rest of the time she wasted lazing about her house aimlessly, hoping, wishing, dreaming that a knight would come riding into her life to sweep her off her feet and take her away from her dreary existence.

Fleetingly and ever so tantalizingly that knight had rode into the picture in the form of a poor yet handsome young man with amnesia who just so happened to be in one of the hospital wards she used to visit.

James. James Evans.

Just thinking about him made her feel dizzy. He had been a shimmering light in the distance for her, a sparkling, tangible hope. James hadn't been quite hers yet, so he hadn't been something her overbearing mother would've been able to wrench away from her.

Yet he had still managed to be pulled out of her life despite that fact; except this time instead of her mother interfering with her life, it had been that odd fellow Albus Dumbledore. She supposed she couldn't complain - after all, he had been very generous with his payment and she was poor and uneducated, living modestly on her own....

"Perhaps it's time to go spend some of my earnings," she stated to the empty room.

"An excellent idea, if I do say so myself."

Apparently the room was not as empty as she'd thought it was. Her eyes flicked over to the hearth, taking in the fact that where once there had been ash and dust lying behind a closed gate, there was now that unnerving green fire burning bright as if it had been there all along. Slowly she turned around in her seat to see the damnable fireplace creature himself, standing tall in her kitchen in his brilliant violet robes. He regarded her with a slight smile and she felt uneasy in his presence. Weren't intruders supposed to make one feel afraid? Dumbledore had this insufferable ability to make her feel comfortable no matter what. She quickly tore her gaze away from his captivating blue eyes, fearful of any mind games he might be trying to play on her.

"Headmaster," she said calmly, "I wasn't expecting to see you so soon...."

Actually, Nora hadn't expected to see him ever again. She had only assumed Dumbledore had held the same assumption.

"My dear Nora," he replied genially, smiling more widely and stretching his arms out in a gesture of openness and trust. "It seems that events beyond my control have conspired to have us meet again."

Typical, she thought. He knows full well what he's doing.

"What do you want this time?" she asked bluntly, not caring for this façade of familiarity and friendship.

His eyebrows arched up in surprise and he placed a hand delicately over his chest. "Why must we dispense with the pleasantries this time around? Come, let me offer you a cup of tea...."

She resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Three times he had arrived unannounced, uninvited, in her hearth in a magical swirl of emerald flame and sparks; three times he had proceeded to offer her tea. In her own house.

"No thanks," she answered sweetly, waving a hand in front of her. "Please," she said, feigning tiredness as she faked a yawn, "let's just get down to business."

Dumbledore peered at her for a moment, unblinking, unmoving, still caught midway in the motion of waving his hand about to conjure up a tray of tea. At last an easy smile broke out across his face and his posture relaxed as he strode over to where she was sitting.

"Of course," was his simple reply. He stopped a polite distance away from her and suddenly his appearance was grim and his voice was grave. "Nora," he closed his eyes and paused. Whether or not the expression was genuine, it had worked and she found herself moving closer to the edge of her seat, anxious to hear what the old wizard had to say. "I'm afraid I haven't been completely honest with you."

Immediately her eyes hardened and her mouth set itself into a thin line.

But there was an earnestness, a twinge of regret, an overwhelming sense of fatigue - there was at least something so subtle in his demeanor that she felt herself wanting to believe him. Yet, at the same time....

Dumbledore sighed and suddenly the steadying aura of invincibility and confidence around him vanished and he appeared to be nothing more special than a frail old man wearing a quirky purple bathrobe. His gaze wandered over to the ailing fire, which had reverted back to its normal hues of crimson and orange and looked just as tired as he. With a casual grace he pointed at the flames and they sprang back to life, dancing spiritedly in place.

"This is going to take some time," he warned.

Nora raised her chin slightly. "Start at the beginning."

He nodded and after another moment's pause, he said, "I am going to tell you the story of a remarkable child by the name of Harry Potter."

* * *

James and Luna leaned back against the thick trunk of a towering oak tree situated in the middle of a vast, grassy field. It was neither too hot nor too cold where they were and a slight, sweet breeze tickled the leaves hanging over them and brought a calming sensation over him. Overhead, the sky hung precariously between afternoon and twilight - one side was awash with vibrant, brilliant colors which made it appear as it were on fire and the other was a deep, violet-cerulean canvas sprinkled with glittering stars and faintly shining nebulae. Through some trick of magic, a divine, shimmering ring circled the sky, stretching from horizon to horizon. Two moons sailed along the sea of stars impossibly close to the planet, each with swirling rings of their own.

As strange as it seemed to him, this was Luna's bedroom. She had explained to him that her mother had done the unique enchantments on it herself before she had passed away, and she'd simply never had the heart to change it from the way it was. He silently agreed with her decision.

After a while of not saying anything, James broke the silence.

"It's beautiful, Luna. It really is." He tore his gaze away from the stars for a moment to shoot a sidelong glance her way. "I could spend hours out here just staring at it."

"Yeah...." she replied, sounding preoccupied. "I always come out here when I need to relax." Luna sighed as she idly played with a strand of her long blonde hair. She lowered her voice as she said, "Are you... are you ready to talk now?"

James snapped out of his stargazing and looked at his feet.

"You don't have to say anything if you don't want to," she said quickly, pulling her eyes from him.

"No, I need to come clean and tell you the truth." James sighed and laid his palms out flat and open in front of him in an expression of resignation. "Luna," he started, still staring at his hands, "I don't remember who I used to be."

Luna eyes showed sympathy and she cautiously touched his arm to let him know she was there for him. "That's understandable. You've been through so much, it's only-"

He shook his head, realizing she had misunderstood him.

"No, Luna," he interrupted. At that moment in time, James felt very small and alone as he gazed up at the living mural that was the sky and he wondered if there was anyone out there who had ever been in the same predicament as he. It also didn't help him at all that he still felt that Screaming Banshee wreaking havoc with his senses, playing with his center of balance and giving him a headache. "I mean I don't remember anything at all. I don't remember who I am." He gestured feebly as he continued, "As far as I know, I'm James Evans, not this famous bloke Harry Potter. I...."

He looked to her for support and felt a minor tinge of pain when he saw she looked slightly suspicious.

"You mean you don't remember anything at all?" she asked bluntly, her eyes narrowing slightly.

James shrugged helplessly and then he drew back from her as she suddenly huffed and crossed her arms over her chest, turning her head the other way.

"Luna?" he said, reaching for her arm but thinking better of it. "What's wrong?"

After a short moment of hesitation, she responded, "Of all the people I know, I never thought that you'd end up just like everyone else."

Just like everyone else...? What is she talking about?

"I thought you were different from all the rest," she went on, "but I was wrong." Her words sounded bitter and a little more than resentful.

James felt his head swirling. What was she going on about? "Luna, I-"

"Stop it, Harry!" she shouted, turning on him and he finally saw that she was crying. Luna shakily brushed a stray tear from her cheek. "Everyone else makes fun of me - they steal things from me, they make fun of how I look, they ridicule my father's paper... and now you're doing it, too, trying to convince me that you don't know who you are-"

"LUNA!" he yelled desperately, cutting her off. "I'm not lying to you!"

She sniffed once but she didn't say anything. James took that as a cue to keep talking.

"I am not making fun of you - I wasn't lying when I said I don't know who I am. I don't know how to do magic and I didn't even know who you were until tonight." He spoke evenly, softly, not wanting to scare her off or upset her more. "Luna, the reason I'm here is because you told me we're friends. And I'll tell you something," his voice became slightly louder, "I do not lie to my friends."

James peered at her carefully, trying to tell what she was thinking, but her face was unreadable. After a long while, she took a deep breath and looked him in the eye.

"So you really can't remember?"

"Not a thing," he whispered solemnly.

"Okay," she answered quietly, nodding her head slowly. Luna rose to her feet. "Follow me, I have something else to show you then."

* * *

They crossed the empty field without saying a word to each other. Their path eventually brought them to the edge of a forest and they disappeared into the trees. He kept catching fleeting glances of what looked like glowing fairies dancing in and out of his peripheral vision. James eventually gave up trying to get a decent look at them and focused solely on following Luna, who was marching forward, winding in and out of the trees and the undergrowth with ease compared to how clumsily he was trouncing about, constantly being tripped up and slowed down by low lying branches.

At last she came to a stop in a tiny clearing where a silver cauldron rested on top of a stone pedestal. An ethereal light shone down from above, illuminating it, and James saw there was glowing writing engraved along the sides, but it was in a language he could not understand.

"This is a pensieve," she explained patiently, pointing at the shining vat. "It holds memories... and because you can't seem to recall your own, I'm going to share some of mine with you." Luna extended a hand to him and pulled him forward. "Come closer, there - that's good."

James gasped as he looked inside and saw silvery wisps spinning along the inside, lit up by some magical internal light.

"Now be sure to hold on to my hand tightly... good." She regarded him seriously and he felt his pulse quicken as their eyes met. "This is going to feel a little... odd."

Then for the second time that night, James felt the earth slip away from under his feet and he was tumbling into oblivion once more. This time, however, the disorientation didn't last nearly as long. Instead of finding himself in a foyer, James saw that he was standing in the compartment of a moving train. Looking around, he saw there was one more person in the room with him-

"Luna!" he exclaimed, surprised at seeing her sitting on the seat so calmly, reading what appeared to be an upside down magazine. She didn't move or acknowledge in any way that she had heard him. James raised a brow and waved a hand in front of her face. She didn't blink.

"She can't hear you," he suddenly heard Luna's voice right by his ear. He twisted around and nearly fell over when he saw Luna standing right behind him.

"But- but you're-" he stammered, pointing wildly back and forth Luna and Luna.

"Harry, relax," she said as she smiled. "As I explained, we're in a memory right now."

James observed the memory-Luna closely as she flipped a page in her magazine, completely oblivious to the two extra occupants in the compartment. "Just which memory is this, exactly?"

Luna's smile became even broader.

"Why, it's the first time I ever met you."

And then the compartment door slid open and three people casually stepped in, passing right on through James and Luna as if they didn't exist. There was a tall, slightly awkward-looking boy followed by a noticeably younger version of himself, and backstopping the group was a shorter girl with long, straight red hair.... Something inside him stirred at the sight of her and he struggled to think of who she was. Beside him, Luna poked his shoulder and whispered, "That's Ginny."

"Hi, Luna," the red-head said. "Is it okay if we take these seats?"

James turned to regard the memory-Luna, who looked up at the sound of her voice and nodded.

"Thanks." Ginny smiled at her and began moving her trunk up into the overhead luggage rack. James couldn't take his eyes off of her. The way she moved, the way her hair flowed so elegantly down her shoulders....

"...and you're Harry Potter."

At the sound of Luna's voice, he jumped a little and shifted his eyes back to the scene unfolding before them.

"I know I am," answered the memory-James.

The lanky boy chuckled and then the scene before him became fuzzy and distorted, as if he was watching events happen through an unadjusted camera lens. Their voices faded away, becoming lower and lower in volume until James couldn't determine what they were saying any longer. He looked at Luna in alarm and she just shook her head calmly. "I'm calling up a new memory. Don't worry."

Within moments the train compartment was gone and they were standing in the stone hallway of what looked like a castle. Dozens of portraits hung from the walls and James saw that in all of them the pictures were moving. The younger memory-Luna walked into sight, carrying a stack of papers. Upon closer inspection, he saw that they were lists of missing books and other belongings.

Then from around the corner came... himself.

"Hello," said the younger Luna.

"How come you're not at the feast?" he heard himself ask.

"Well, I've lost most of my possessions. People take them and hide them, you know...."

While she spoke, James noticed his memory-self begin to frown and his brows came together in concern. He felt Luna lean close to him again and whisper, "This is the first time I realized that you actually cared about what happened to me."

James' eyes flicked over to where she was standing, serenely watching the memory unfold. She smiled at him then, but it was a sad, apologetic smile. "I'm sorry for overreacting earlier tonight. I'd like to think I've become a bit better with people over the last few years, but sometimes...."

He smiled at her reassuringly, patting her on the back.

"It's okay, don't worry about it."

"Thanks," she said. Luna closed her eyes and the memory shifted again. This time he spotted Luna immediately. She was sitting up on a stone wall along the edge of a courtyard, reading another upside down magazine. For a few long moments, nothing happened. Fluffy snowflakes drifted down slowly from the sky and he saw teenagers all wearing sharp uniforms milling about the courtyard, some taking the time to catch snow on their tongues or fall back and make angels.

"This is Hogwarts," he heard the real Luna explain. "The wizard school we all went to."

James was still watching the memory-Luna when he heard laughter from off to the side. Turning quickly to see the commotion, he wasn't surprised to himself again, except this time he was flanked by a tall, lanky red-headed boy and a smiling, bushy-haired girl. All three of them had their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders as they strode through the courtyard.

"Did you see the look on Malfoy's face?" the taller boy blurted out, barely able to suppress his chuckling.

"Ron," the girl said, mock seriously, reaching around with her free arm and giving him a playful punch on the shoulder.

"Hermione!" he responded indignantly, still grinning. "What's that on your face?"

"What's what on my face?" she asked.

"That!" he exclaimed as he picked up a handful of snow and tossed it at her, missing by a few inches.

"Hey!" her cheeks were flushed and her eyes were glaring at him but a broad smile was spreading out across her face. She quickly retaliated, picking up a handful of snow and successfully mashing it into Ron's hair.

James saw himself pull his arms from around the two and step in between them.

"Now, now, you two, you better settle it down before-"

He didn't get a chance to finish his sentence because both Hermione and Ron had both chosen that same moment to chuck snowballs at him, which he managed to dodge just barely in time. The younger James dropped down into a crouch and his lips curled up into a smirk.

"That's it, you're both done."

James watched in amazement as a snowball fight of epic proportions erupted between them. Eventually, other students entered the fray and the scene dissolved into a cloud of white before coming back into focus. This time they were in a rather normal-looking bedroom. He noticed there were two extra mattresses laid out across the floor, and judging by the various tote bags and general clutter of makeup materials scattered about on the dressers and the floor, he was in a bedroom being shared by three girls.

"This is the Burrow," Luna said. "I was invited here the summer before my sixth year at school...."

Suddenly three girls walked into the room. James recognized them all - Luna, Hermione, and Ginny. Luna and Hermione stood on either side of Ginny, who was keeping her lips pressed together tightly in a failing attempt to keep from smiling.

"Ginny," Hermione said slyly, giving the younger girl a knowing wink. "Come on... you can tell us."

She shook her head, a playful smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

The memory-Luna folded her arms across her chest.

"I know who it is," she stated conversationally. Hermione's and Ginny's eyes went wide at this new proclamation. "But I won't say anything unless it's okay with you, Ginny."

They all looked anxiously at her as she bit her lip. Then she nodded at the other girl. Luna drew out the suspense only a heartbeat longer before she grinned and said, "It's Harry Potter."

Hermione squealed and enveloped Ginny in a great bear hug.

"Oh, I always knew you two would get together!"

Luna poked James in the side.

"She's talking about you," she supplied, giving him a wink.

"I- me..." he stuttered, staring at the dazzling red head dancing around in front of him. "Her?" he finished weakly.

Luna nodded. She pursed her lips and looked up, trying to recall something.

"I think we have time for one more memory."

The bedroom was gradually replaced by a kitchen full of quiet, somber-looking people. Standing in the middle he instantly noticed himself, wearing a grim expression on his face but exuding a quiet sense of inner strength he didn't know he possessed. On either side of him were Hermione and Ron, who he observed were holding hands as they stood before the crowd, lending support to their friend. While many of the faces were unfamiliar to him, James saw others he knew in the assembled group of people: Luna, Ginny, that tall awkward boy, and others whose faces he recognized from the massive snowball fight at Hogwarts.

"We're at the Burrow again, Harry," murmured Luna. "This happened after Bill and Fleur's wedding... when you left to go find the Horcruxes...."

His memory self cleared his throat. While from the front he appeared determined and completely confident in himself, James saw behind his back his hands were fidgeting nervously.

"First, I want to congratulate Bill and Fleur one more time...."

Amidst polite applause, James tilted his head towards Luna.

"Where did we go to?"

"To bring the fight to Voldemort," she said in hushed tones, giving him a grave look. In the background, James heard himself droning on about magic and evil but all of his attention was focused on Luna now. "You, Ron, and Hermione found him, Harry. The three of you ended the war."

"I..."

Luna gently placed a hand over his shoulder.

"You don't have to say anything. I think you've seen enough for now."

James felt the world shifting again, yet no new scene began to fade into sight before him. Rather, his view of the kitchen became smaller and smaller, as if he was being pulled away from it at an incredible speed. The scene eventually vanished and in its place was nothingness. James frowned. Darkness? What was this...?

"Harry, you have to pull your head out of the pensieve," he heard Luna say playfully.

He leaned back, blinking in the sudden light and gave her a sheepish smile.

"Let's go somewhere else, there really aren't too many good places to sit around here and talk."

As he followed her on the way back out of the forest, he thought back upon what he had seen in the pensieve. Most noticeably he'd seen himself, but he'd also seen his friends. Ron and Hermione, and his girlfriend, Ginny.

I have friends! What will they say to me when we meet? I wonder when the last time I saw them was...?

"Luna," he said, smiling dreamily to himself as he thought of his friends, "do you know where Ginny is?"

She froze in her footsteps, not bothering to turn around and face him.

"Or Ron or Hermione, for that matter," he amended quickly, scratching the back of his neck. "I think it would help me remember better if I could see them, too. What do you think?"

Luna slowly turned around. There was an indescribable, unreadable look on her face and James felt uneasy staring at her so he averted his gaze to the ground.

"Er, I mean, I'm not saying it's not enjoyable to be spending time with you, of course-"

"Harry," her voice sounded hoarse and pained and she had closed her eyes. She shook her head back and forth as she stepped closer to him. Luna reached a hand out and held his. "I hate being the one to tell you this, but they're... they're dead."