M e m o r i e s . o f . m e...

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C.h.a.p.t.e.r.1 - the incident...

//The wind rushed to his face, blowing his thick, dark hair backwards. He sped up, the Firebolt in his firmly gripped hands shot up a few dozens feet, bringing him farther from the ground of Hogwarts. He jerked his broom around, causing it to twirl with an amazing grace. The dark-haired boy smiled, his emerald eyes twinkling in the bright sunlight, and with a sudden change of mind he pointed the tip of his broom down to the ground, and soon both him and his Firebolt were speed-rocketing down to earth with an inhuman speed. Merely inches away from touching the ground, he brought his broom up to a jerk and made a breath-taking save. With a satisfied grin, the boy returned to fly casually around the Quidditch pitch, relaxing as he did.

As if on instinct, he felt the hair behind his neck prickled, and turned around. Rushing towards him was a Bludger, fast and unstoppable. His eyes widened, and without time to move aside, the ball caught him full on the head.

The hands holding the Firebolt loosened, and soon he was falling down to the ground, his body numbed with shock and pain.

When he'd stopped falling, his body had felt like many shattered pieces. His head felt broken, and his chest hurt, as if a boulder was pressing him down, unable him from breathing. It was painful, his whole being throbbed as if thousands of needles were prickling him.

Then he heard a voice. A distant, familiar voice in which he couldn't put his finger onto where he'd heard it before. With much effort and pain, he opened his eyes, and the last thing he saw was a pair of glowing silver before he passed out.//


He woke up, feeling queasy and foggy. His head ached, and his chest hurt whenever he breathed. The voices he had heard as he came out of his sleepiness stopped, as if sensing his movement. When his eyes slowly opened, there were many people all around him, their faces worried.

"Harry!" a girl came over to him, her chestnut eyes filled with worries and relieves and tears. "Oh! You're awake!"

He winced as she put her arms around him.

"Hermione, you should let Harry rest," an old man said gently, his blue eyes twinkled, reflecting relief, also.

The girl called Hermione quickly pulled away, wiping her eyes with the back of her hand. "Sorry, Harry. I'm just so happy you're awake..." she smiled suddenly, "but you're okay now. I'm so glad."

A tall boy with red hair came over to her side, looking down at him with concern, like the rest of the people there. "Yeah, mate, you're okay now?"

He looked around at all of them, blinking slowly. They were all smiling at him kindly, except for a greasy, tall man with a nasty look, waiting for him to speak. He opened his mouth, then shook his head, noticing that his voice wasn't working properly, and tried again.

"Where am I?"

The smiles faded, and worries filled their faces again.

The red-haired boy came closer to him with hesitation. "Harry, mate, you feeling alright?"

He looked up at the tall boy, curious. "Are you talking to me?"

Hermione burst into tears, and the tall boy quickly embraced her.

A short woman came over to his side, wearing a white dress. She looked slightly panicky, and touched his hand carefully. "Mr. Potter, do you know who I am?"

He studied her face, there were lines on her forehead, and he chuckled quietly, seeing a small mold on the side of her temple. Then, after a moment, he shook his head. "Who are you?" he asked.

A tall woman, thin and strict looking came towards. "Then do you remember who you are?"

He paused, trying to think with his blank mind, and shook his head again.

Hermione turned to him, her eyes red, and hold his hands in hers. "Harry, it's me, Hermione Granger, remember?"

The name sounded awfully familiar to his ears, but where had he heard it before?

"You keep calling me Harry," he stated quietly. "Is that my name?"

Her lower lip trembled, and the tall boy had to pulled her into his arms again. "Ron, he doesn't remember," she sobbed.

"It's okay, Hermione, we'll figure this out," the redhead said, looking over to the woman in the white dress. "Madame Pomfrey, can't you do anything?"

The old man now spoke up, looking grave. "No, I'm afraid Madame Pomfrey cannot do anything. It appears that Harry has amnesia, and this is not a sickness or injury. We cannot do anything but wait to see if he will regain his memory loss."

Ron looked at him, his blue eyes unhappy. "Do you remember anything at all, mate?"

"No," he spoke softly, wondering why these people kept asking him the same question all over again.

The guy named Ron suddenly looked angry, cracking his knuckles menacingly. "Malfoy! I'll kill him! I'll kill him! He's not going to get away from doing this to Harry!"

Harry backed away without knowing why, his green eyes fearful.

"Mr. Weasley!" the strict woman said sternly. "Keep your temper in control! This is the infirmary, not a battle ground! I do not tolerate that kind of behavior in front of a patient!"

Madame Pomfrey nodded in agreement.

"Sorry, Professor McGonagall," Ron muttered, then his eyes blazed with fierceness. "But I won't forgive Malfoy! I'll find him! That dirty little --"

"I ask that you keep your mouth close in the meanwhile, or I will take points away for speaking unacceptable language," drawled the greasy-haired man.

Ron glared at him.

The old man stood up, and all attentions turned to him. "Severus, please call Mr. Malfoy to my office immediately. I will need to speak with him." His blue eyes were soft when they looked at him. "Rest, Harry. I will speak with you later."

With that, the old man walked out, followed by the very nasty-temper man, whom he assumed was Severus.

Everyone, to his very discomfort, looked at him again. Then Madame Pomfrey cleared her throat. "Enough for today, everyone. Mr. Potter needs rest. You can go now, that means you too, Mr. Weasley and Miss Granger," she added, seeing that they were about to protest.

Professor McGonagall briskly walked out, after sending him a sympathetic look. Ron and Hermione reluctantly went, but not after Hermione bent down and gave him a kiss on the cheek. Ron put an arm around her, whispering comforting words as they went.

Finally, he was able to be alone to himself, only to be confused more by those words they were saying.

Who was he, and where was he? They said this was the infirmary, but why was he in the infirmary? He looked around at the room, desperate for an answer. How come he didn't remember anything? Who were those people? How come they were so worried about him?

He lay down, his head was hurting him more as thoughts passed through his head in confusion. Eventually, he fell into a slumber, woken now and then just to see a few blurry sights in front of him.

In his dreams there were flashes of people, green lights and slithering something in darkness. He tossed and turned, then, upon seeing a red-haired woman screaming, he woke up with a start.


He was sitting on the bed, a cup of water in his hands, watching the people there with interest. They all seemed to know him, waving their hands ans sending him a greeting now and then. All he could do was smile at them, hoping they would tell him who they were.

Then Hermione and Ron came, and a bunch of other people, too.

"Hey Harry, how are you feeling?" Hermione said, touching his forehead.

"He doesn't have a fever, Hermione!" Ron said moodily, crossing his arms.

He wondered why Ron was always so bad-tempered all the time. "I'm fine, thank you," he answered Hermione.

A girl with red-hair came forth, looking worried. "Harry, it's me, Ginny," she said softly.

"Ginny?" he cocked his head, trying to remember. "And I know you?" he asked hesitantly.

Ginny looked as if she would cry, but she just nodded at him. "I'm Ron's sister."

He looked at Ron, and noticed that they did kind of look like each other. "Oh."

A boy with blond hair and another black boy appeared. "Harry, I guess you don't remember me, huh?" the blonde said, a humorless smile on his face.

"Seamus, stop that," the black boy hissed. "You'll upset him."

Seamus looked away.

He looked at Seamus with something akin to sadness on his face. "Sorry I don't remember," he said quietly.

Hermione and Ron glared at the blonde, then Hermione turned to him. "You have nothing to apologize of, Harry," she told him reassuringly.

"You shut up, Finnigan," Ron scolded. "We have enough trouble already without you upsetting Harry, too."

Seamus looked at Harry apologetically. "Sorry, Harry. It's just that... I'm shocked you don't remember."

He looked confused, and with an exasperate sigh Ginny snapped, "Oh, he has this stupid crush on you, Harry!"

"Crush?" he asked.

They all looked at each other, then, coming to a conclusion, Hermione explained to him, "That means Seamus likes you."

"Oh," he said, understood. He smiled at Seamus. "I like you, too, Seamus."

Seamus gaped at him, and Ginny seemed to be unable to stop giggling. The others just stared at him, until they broke into laughter to.

"Oh, Harry," Ginny gasped, "it seems that you've not only lost your memories, but your knowledge of that kind of things, too!"

He decided not to ask them what they meant by that.

"What are you doing here?" he asked.

"We're here to help you remember, Harry," Ron said seriously.

They all nodded. "Professor Dumbledore told us that it helps if we show you things and places, but since Madame Pomfrey refused to let you get out of the infirmary, we'll try our best to help," Hermione explained, taking out something from her bag and gave it to him.

He hold it in his hands, and realized that it was a cloak. Smooth and fine as silk, soft and weightless. He brought it to his face, and inhaled deeply. Suddenly, an image shot into his mind, then another, and another...

//Screaming book... a mirror with people inside... three-headed dog... dragon... walking in the moonlight, two people by his sides...//

"Harry, HARRY!" someone was yelling, shaking him, but their voices were so far away...

His eyes snapped open, and he saw that they all were looking at him worriedly. He realized with a jolt that he was shaking all over, and seemed to be unable to stop. "S-sorry," he said, still shaking.

Hermione brought him into a hug, patting his back soothingly. "You okay, Harry?" she asked gently.

He nodded, looking at her, his eyes still fearful and shocked. "What... happened?"

Ginny has tears in her eyes when she said next, "You were screaming, and jerking around as if someone was trying to hurt you... it was..." she broke up, and Ron hugged her.

"I saw a dragon... then there was a mirror," He looked at Hermione, grabbing her arms, "there were people inside it. A woman with red hair, and a man... he looked... like me," he finished softly.

"The Mirror of Erised," Ron said wonderingly. They all looked at him questioningly. "The Mirror of Erised shows you your deepest and most desperate heart desire," Ron told them. "Harry found it one night when he was walking around the school wearing the Invisibility Cloak." He adverted his eyes at the cloak in Harry's hands.

His eyes lowered to the cloak. "Then who were those people?"

"They're your parents, Harry," Hermione said in a tight voice.

His voice was soft when he asked, "Why aren't they here with me, then? Where are they?"

They all seemed to have trouble answering him. Finally, Ron spoke, replying to his question as if it was the hardest thing he'd ever done. "They're dead, Harry."

"Dead?" he asked blankly.

Hermione nodded, tears filled her eyes again.

"So I won't see them ever?"

Hermione was sobbing uncontrollably as she nodded again. Seamus and the black boy seemed to have problem speaking, opening and closing their mouths. Ginny just cried into her brother's arms, and Ron looked as if he was torned between anger and sadness.

"When were they... when did they die? Why did they...?" but he couldn't seem to speak. His breathing was contricted, and he tried to take in deep gulps of air.

"Harry, Harry!" Hermione stood up, holding to his shoulders. "Madame Pomfrey! Something's wrong with Harry! Madame Pomfrey!"

The nurse was quickly at his side, tilting his head up and speaking very fast to the others. "What happened?"

"We were just talking... about Harry's parents, then he just..." Ron explained, then trailed off, staring straight ahead, towards the door. "MALFOY!" he shouted in rage, making to lung at the boy standing at the door.

"Ron! NO!" Hermione yelled, trying to pull him back. Ginny and the others two just stood there, glaring at the person called Malfoy.

"Mr. Weasley, I ask that you control yourself," appeared besides the pale boy was the old man with long, white hair.

Ron restrained himself from killing Malfoy, but just barely.

Meanwhile, Harry had gotten his breathing under control, much to the nurse's relief. She turned around, gave Malfoy a disapproving look, then nodded to the old man.

"What is he doing here, Professor Dumbledore?" Ginny asked, shooting Malfoy a nasty look.

"Mr. Malfoy is here with me to clear up some things," Dumbledore said, and from the tone of his voice, they knew that he would say no more.

Professor Dumbledore walked toward Harry, Malfoy close behind him. Ron tensed when the pale boy came close, but he didn't do anything.

"Good afternoon, Harry," Dumbledore beamed at him, and he relaxed slightly. "I'm Professor Dumbledore," he introduced himself. "I hope you are well?"

"Yes, thank you, sir," he said politely.

"Good, good," he smiled kindly, and stepped aside, so that Malfoy came into view. He could see the boy better now. He was average height, with light blond hair and silver streaks. His face was pale, and eyes that were silvery gray...

//Those eyes looked down at him like silver stars upon the darkest night, and it was the last thing he'd seen...//

"Draco Malfoy," he whispered softly, eyes misted over, "has silvery gray eyes."

All his friends, or he assumed were his friends, widened their eyes at him. Dumbledore looked a bit surprised, then smiled brightly. "You know this boy in front of you, then, Harry?"

He looked at Dumbledore, smiled back, and shook his head. "No."

"But Harry," Ginny protested, "you called his name just now."

"Did I?" he asked, geniunely surprised.

"Yes! You said Draco Malfoy has silvery gray eyes," Ron pointed out, wondering why his best friend would notice that kind of thing.

He paused, thinking. "In my dream... there was a boy with silvery gray eyes... he was looking down at me..." he shook his head, and noticed that everyone was staring at him. "Sorry, I didn't mean to..."

Dumbledore patted his shoulder lightly. "No problem, my dear boy." Then, he gestured to the others. "I want to have a word with you all."

Dumbledore turned to leave, but Ron stood where he was defiantly. "I'm not going to leave Malfoy here alone with Harry. Hasn't he done enough damage to Harry already?" Ron glared at Malfoy, who watched him coolly through his long eyelashes.

He wondered why Ron was always glaring.

"Trust me, Mr. Weasley. By my word, Mr. Malfoy will not do a thing to Harry," Dumbledore said happily.

"That's right, Weasley. I won't do a thing to Potter here," Malfoy drawled, glancing at him.

Ron clenched his fists angrily. "You -- "

"Enough here," Dumbledore interrupted cheerfully, "let's go." They all left, with Hermione giving him a encouraging smile, and he smiled back at her, waving.

He realized then that there wasn't anyone in the room. Some beds had their curtains drawn, but other than that there were no one in here. He looked up at Malfoy, who was glancing down at him in a very menacing way. He backed away unconsciously. Malfoy seemed very unfriendly.

"It's not my fault you lost your memory, Potter," Malfoy said finally, sneering.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean that you were too stupid to dodge that Bludger," Malfoy snapped. Harry flinched at the harsh tone; Hermione and Ron didn't snap at him like Malfoy did. "It's bloody your fault you fall from your broomstick so don't try and blame it on me, Potter."

"I'm not blaming it on you," he protested, taking a small gulp of water. Malfoy looked at him with that sneering face again. He didn't like it. "Why do you keep sneering?"

Malfoy seemed at loss at his question. "Why do I...?" he spluttered.

But then Harry asked another question. "Why do you call me Potter? Everyone else calls me Harry." Then without waiting for an answer, he asked another, "Why do you act so unfriendly? Did I do something wrong to you before?"

"Shut up, Potter!" Malfoy snarled, and with a start, he quieted.

"I'm sorry," he said, his voice barely above a whisper. Malfoy looked shocked at his apology.

"Sorry?" Malfoy asked incredulously. "Why would you say sorry?"

"Because I made you mad," he answered easily.

Malfoy was at loss for words. "L-look, Potter, I don't know what you're playing at, but it won't work on me, understand? I - I hate you!"

His eyes widened, green eyes were ever more greener. "Hate? Why?"

"Because we're bloody enemies!" Malfoy raged, losing his temper at last.

"How can we be enemies when I don't hate you?"

"Because you don't remember you hate me, that's why!"

He looked at Malfoy through dark eyelashes, eyes shimmering. "S-so we were enemies?"

"We are enemies!" Malfoy corrected, wishing he was somewhere else and not here, facing a crazy Potter.

"But..." he spoke, his voice quieter than before, so that Malfoy had to lean closer to hear, "I don't want to be your enemy."

There was a long silence.

"Of course you do," Malfoy's voice was bitter, "you do want to be my enemy from the start."

"I - I -" he didn't know what to say.

"Look, we're enemies. I'm happy with that and I'm sure you were, too, and still are if you didn't lost your memories. I'm happy with hating you, and I don't ever want to change that."

"So you're happy with hating me?" he asked, honestly wanting an answer.

Malfoy opened his mouth to say yes, but nothing came out. Was he really happy with hating Potter? No, he didn't want to hate anyone, except perhaps Weasley.

"Malfoy," he said, and Malfoy looked at him, "Ron called you Malfoy. Is that your name?"

"No," the blonde said, a hint of bitterness in his voice. "My name is Draco Malfoy, but you Gryffindors are all mighty and high that you can't be bothered with calling my name -"

"Draco," he said happily, and the pale blonde stared at him, unbelieving at what he had just heard. "I'll call you Draco."

Draco was about to say something to that when they heard a shout outside. The blonde smirked, "Look like Weasel's in one of his rages again."

"Ron?" he said, frowning slightly. "He always looks angry and bad-tempered." Then he chuckled. "Hermione stops him from yelling always."

"It's amazing how Granger can stand Weasley as her boyfriend."

"Boyfriend?" he asked curiously.

"Don't tell me..." Draco said cautiously, then sighed when he saw the blank look on his face. "Oh, bloody hell. You don't even remember what the term means."

"Isn't Ron everyone's boyfriend?" his honest question nearly made Draco laugh, but his next question did throw Draco off. "He's my boyfriend. Aren't you my boyfriend, too?"

"Me...?" Draco laughed, "Are you out of your mind, Potter? Of course not!"

"But you're a boy, and a friend..."

"I'm not a friend," Draco said quickly.

"Why not?"

Draco had no idea how to answer that. "Can you stop asking stupid questions, Potter?! It's annoying!"

"S-sorry," he looked at Draco with wide eyes.

Draco sighed deeply, and gracefully fell down on a chair.

"Why are you here? You don't look like you want to visit me," Harry stated.

"No, like I'd ever. The bloody old fool wants me to stay here for some crazy reasons of his," Draco muttered.

"Dumbledore? He's not a fool..." he protested.

Draco glanced at him. "Of course, to you he's not. You're always his little Golden Boy."

He gasped, a flash of image crossed his mind.

//People around them, watching, shouting of curses and hexes... sparks in the air... boils apearing on someone's face, a girl with her teeth growing...//

His eyes were opened before he knew it, and Draco Malfoy was standing in front of him, his face troubled. "Potter! What's up with you?!"

"MALFOY!" it was Ron, slamming the door open and running towards Draco before anyone could stop him.

"Weasley!" Draco yelled, trying to pry Ron's hands off his neck. "Let go of me!"

"Ron! No! Ron, stop!" Hermione ran in, panicked.

"What did you do to him!" Ron snarled, his hand tightened.

He scrambled off the bed, the cup of water in his hands dropped, unnoticed, on the floor. He pried Ron's hands away successfully, partly because Ron was surprised seeing him there, helping Malfoy, partly because Hermione took his arm and pulled him back.

"Draco, you okay?" he asked as the blonde rubbed his neck angrily.

Hermione's eyes widened at him saying Draco, Ron just turned green at that. Ginny paled visibly, and Seamus and Dean were just gaping at him with disbelief.

Draco, noticing the reaction of the Gryffindors, smirked. Turning to him, the blonde said sweetly, "I'm fine, but my neck does kind of hurt."

Seamus's eyes narrowed when he saw his crush looking concerned at his all-time enemy. Malfoy was milking it for all it worth! "Madame Pomfrey can fix it," he said, genuinely worried, looking at Draco's neck, which was imprinted with fingers that had grabbed his throat before.

"Move out of the way!" Madame Pomfrey snapped moodily. "Mr. Weasley! Twenty points from Gryffindor! I'm sure Professor McGonagall told you that there are no fighting permitted in the infirmary! Now out! OUT! All of you!"

Hermione went over to him, turning him around so she could look at him. "Why were you screaming, Harry?"

"Screaming?" he said, not understanding Hermione very well.

"Yes, you were screaming. That's why Ron lost his temper like that," Hermione told him gently, smiling in a way she hoped was reassuring him.

"I... saw people in my mind. There was a girl... looked like you, her teeth was growing... then Draco was there, he was yelling something." He gulped, his face paled. "I was yelling, too. There were sparks everywhere..." he shuddered.

Hermione turned to Dumbledore with a worried face. He shook his head at her, gesturing for her to go with the others before the nurse lose her temper again. That was the first time they'd seen Madame Pomfrey take points away.

Hermione left him. "Rest, Harry. We'll come and see you again."

"Kids today! Have no self-control at all! No wonder I have so many patients in here!" Madame Pomfrey ranted angrily. Then, to Draco, she ordered, "Sit still, and you can go when I say so."

With that, she left.

He went back to his bed and sat down, pulling his knees up and wrapped his arms around them. "I'm sorry Ron did that," he spoke at last, "he is rather protective of me."

"You always apologize for everything, don't you, Potter?" Draco scowled, clearly not in a good mood. "If Weasley doesn't stop being like that people will think he has a crush on you soon!"

He giggled at that. "Ron doesn't have a crush on me, Seamus does."

Draco's eyes widened at that. "Finnigan?" the blonde threw back his head and laughed. "Who'd have thought! But then again, it's rather obvious..."

"How so?"

"Well, he never seems to notice anyone else but you. He tries to spend as much time as he could with you, and he stares at you a lot," Draco ticked off his fingers.

"How do you know that? Were you watching him?"

"NO!" Draco said, shocked that Harry would think something like that.

He smiled. "Then were you watching me?"

Draco had no answer to that, and glared at Harry, who just smiled at him.


After Dumbledore asked everyone to leave the infirmary, closing the door behind him, the headmaster told everyone to enter the small office next to the room, and from there proceeded to explain to them what he'd observed so far.

"What's are you doing, Professor?" Ron asked angrily. "You can't leave Malfoy alone with Harry! He could do anything to Harry!"

"Ron!" Hermione admonished. "Don't be rude!"

"It's all well, Miss Granger," Dumbledore chuckled. "Mr. Weasley is just concern for his friend, and that is very understandable, but I'm afraid... without Mr. Malfoy's help, Harry wouldn't be able to regain his memory loss."

"What do you mean, Professor?" Ginny gasped.

"I'll let Madame Pomfrey explains the first part," Dumbledore said, smiling at the nurse.

"Mr. Potter's condition is not a normal one. He seems to have lost his memory, but he also seems to want to lose his memory," Madame Pomfrey said slowly, and Ron interrupted.

"But he can't be! Harry doesn't want to lose him memory!"

Hermione glared at him. "Ron, shut up!"

"Sorry," he muttered.

"Mr. Potter has experienced a very damaging hit on the head when that Bludger connected with his skull, and also when he fell," continued the nurse crisply. "The fall has broken a few of his ribs and his left leg, but I've fixed that. With a memory loss as great as Mr. Potter's, I should suggest that he be removed to St. Mungle..."

"But he can't!" Hermione protested while Ginny gasped out loud.

"It can't be that serious!" Seamus spoke up, very worried.

"Yes, it is," Madame Pomfrey snapped, "now do stop interrupting me or I will stop explaining and return to my patients." They all shut up.

Satisfied, Madame Pomfrey carried on, "However, since we've seen new developments, Mr. Potter will be staying here."

"New developments?" Ron asked suspiciously. "What kind of new developments?"

Madame Pomfrey gave Dumbledore a look, and the old man cleared his throat. "Ah, yes. Harry doesn't seem to remember anyone of us," he seemed to be unable to carry on. The others waited for him expectantly, but Hermione was thinking, putting two and two together, and came up with an impossible solution.

"Professor Dumbledore! It can't be!" the witch gasped.

Dumbledore beamed at her. "Always the clever one, aren't you, Miss Granger?"

Hermione flushed red, while the others now turned to her. "What do you know, Hermione?" Ginny urged.

"Harry," she said, seeming at loss for words, "you see when Malfoy came in. Harry didn't recognize any of us, but when he saw Malfoy..."

Realization dawned over them and Ron gave a outraged shout. "It's impossible!"

"It is not impossible, Mr. Weasley," the nurse snapped.

"But when we asked if he remembers Malfoy, he says no," Ginny said reasonably.

"It's because he doesn't want to remember his past," Hermione told them with a sad voice.

"Why doesn't he?" this time it was Dean who spoke.

Ron and Hermione looked at each other, and Dumbledore's eyes saddened. "When a person has been through too much, sometimes it's better to let go," Dumbledore said quietly.

They all were quiet, then suddenly Hermione gasped. "Madame Pomfrey! Why was Harry... I mean... what happened that made Harry gasp for air like that?"

"Oh, that," the nurse sighed, "Mr. Potter loses all of his memories, so basically, he is living his childhood and innocence all over again. So of course, when you told him about his parents, he'd have trouble taking it in, resulting in the constriction of breathing. I have always known he was delicate."

"Harry is NOT delicate!" Ron yelled.

"Harry is the strongest boy I've ever met," Dumbledore stated firmly.

Madame Pomfrey looked at all of them, then to Dumbledore.

"So..." Seamus said slowly, "does that mean that Malfoy has to help Harry recover his memories?"

Dumbledore's silence was enough to confirm their suspicion, much to their indignation and disappointment.

"Why him?" Ron said bitterly. "Why couldn't it be anyone of us?"

"There must be a reason why Harry remembers Mr. Malfoy, Mr. Weasley, and we will never know that reason until Harry recovers," Dumbledore told them, his blue eyes troubled.

"We don't trust Malfoy," Hermione voiced everyone's thought.

"I know, but he's the best bet we've got."

Hermione opened her mouth to ask something, when there was a scream coming from the infirmary which sounded a lot like Harry's.

"HARRY!" Hermione stood up abruptly, causing the chair to fell over.

Ginny gave a small squeak, and that was when the bushy haired witch noticed that her boyfriend had dashed out of the office. No doubt, to kill a certain blond boy.

With a sigh, she and the others ran after Ron.


Lucius Malfoy slammed his fists down on Dumbledore's desk, furious. It was the evening the day after the realization of Harry's incident. Dumbledore had explained to Draco about Harry needing his help, and the blonde was outraged. Sure, it was his fault that he sent off that Bludger and caused Harry to lose his memory, but telling him to help his arch-enemy was out of the question. Therefore, Draco Malfoy owled his father to help him with the situation.

Now, Lucius and Dumbledore were in the headmaster's office, trying to have a civil conversation.

"I don't believe I understand you very well, Dumbledore," Lucius said through gritted teeth.

"And I believe I have made myself clear enough," Dumbledore replied calmly. "Young Draco Malfoy is the only one who can help Mr. Potter regain his memory loss..."

"It is not of his concern if Potter went and lost his memory. I will not allow my son do... do such... absurb thing!"

"Draco is the cause of Mr. Potter's amnesia. You know very well as I do that if Mr. Potter does not regain his memories, Draco could be in much trouble with The Department of Mysteries..."

"Are you threatening me, Dumbledore?" Lucius hissed.

"I am merely telling you what you've known all along," Dumbledore answered him.

Lucius's nostrils flared while his fists clenched painfully. Then suddenly, his body relaxed, and he leaned back, straightened himself up and smiled dangerously. "No matter what you say, my son will not lower himself to such Gryffindors. I will personally have a word with Fudge." With that, he turned and walked briskly out of the office.

Dumbledore looked after him sadly, shaking his head.


c h a p t e r . o n e . e n d...

* to be continued in chapter 2 - the arrangement *

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