Written for Hogwarts, Charms A3 - Write about AU where a character wakes up with memory loss.


Green. It flashed in Lord Voldemort's eyes as he pointed his wand at the baby in the crib. The little boy, who had been born at the end of July one year ago, was surprisingly calm. Lord Voldemort shook his head in near regret. What a waste of a wizarding child…

But the power he had over the helpless boy was enticing; Voldemort wasted no more time in whispering the two words that had killed its mother and father. The words had barely left his mouth when -

Pain. More pain than he had ever felt in his life. He could hear screaming - was it the boy, Harry Potter, or was it him who was screaming? He could hear a woman screaming too, what was she saying?

"Not Harry, please! Take me instead..."

"Harry -"

"Harry, Harry, it's just a nightmare!"

"Harry!"


"Harry!"

Harry Potter swam into consciousness without opening his eyes. His wrists ached as he moved his fingers. The effort made him wince, and he quickly became aware that he was drenched in sweat.

He groaned and tried to move his arm, but that was another poor choice; pain immediately shot up to his shoulder and he cried out.

The girl's yells abruptly stopped. Immediately after, pressure was lifted off of his legs, one of which was frozen in the air like he'd been kicking (and not very lightly, either).

Suddenly, hair tickled his bare chest and neck. "Harry?" a girl whispered anxiously.

Harry groaned again. "...Ron?"

It was a stupid question, because Ron was obviously not a girl. But Harry, with the jumbled thoughts pressing on all sides of his head, couldn't think of anyone else who would be with him now. He knew that he was back in the tent because beneath his body, he could feel the mattress of the tent's small bed. Good. So they - he and Ron - had escaped the snake.

The snake! Harry stilled as memories surfaced one after a demanding other, each struggling for his attention. Visiting his parents' graves in Godric's Hollow. Meeting Bathilda Bagshot, who wasn't Bathilda at all, she'd been dead and controlled by Voldemort's snake, Nagini. Voldemort himself had arrived at the scene just as Harry and Ron had jumped out the window… Harry could remember things shattering, a spell ricocheting off the walls, Lord Voldemort seeing them escape just milliseconds in time…

"Harry!"

But the voice was definitely not Ron's, Harry's befuddled mind could tell that much. It was with all his strength that he forced his eyes open.

A girl's face, frozen with fright, came into focus above him. He blinked several times as she nearly collapsed on top of him in relief, saying, "Thank God, Harry. Harry…" to herself. Frizzy brown curls framed her face, slick with sweat.

Under the thin blanket that covered his torso and down, Harry searched his pockets for his wand. There was a bubble of panic when he discovered it was nowhere to be found. His eyes darted to the nightstand at the foot of the bed. He squinted, trying to see if his glasses were there.

The girl must have noticed, because she instantly reached over and grabbed his glasses. She handed to him, but when he tried to sit up, she pressed a hand on his chest.

"Stay down," she said urgently. "You still have to rest, your wounds are still healing, Harry…"

He could see cool rags on the bedside table, and he didn't doubt that this girl had been taking care of him for all the time he'd been unconscious. There was genuine concern in her voice as well, and something about it was so comforting that he allowed her to push him back down.

That was, until he remembered Ron.

Harry shot up, ignoring the girl's cry and the pain in his ribs. "Is Ron okay?" he asked, glancing wildly around the tent. His heart lurched. Ron's bed was empty. "Where - we both got away, didn't we? Where is he? I don't see him."

"Harry -"

Harry turned to the girl. "Well?" he demanded. "Where is he?"

The girl's brown eyes were wide. When she finally spoke, there was a measured calm in her voice that he could tell was forced. "Harry," she said quietly. "Lie back down, please. Your wounds -"

"I don't care! Where is he, is he alright?"

"Harry!" the girl snapped. "We nearly died. Is now really the time to bring up that - that -" She seemed to render herself speechless, and Harry glanced at her to see tears forming in her eyes.

"Who are you?" Harry said sharply, lifting his legs over the edge of the bed. He winced in pain but kept an eye out for his wand. "What have you done with Ron?"

"What?" The girl stared at him. "Harry -"

"Where'd you come from?" Harry demanded. Now that he'd gotten used to the throbbing pain all over his body, it wasn't so bad, and his head began to clear up. He glared at the girl, who obviously knew his identity, with suspicion.

The girl kept on staring at him. She, evidently perplexed, hesitantly reached for his hand but pulled back as he shifted away.

"Harry," she said slowly. "It's me. Hermione. What are you talking about?"

He glared at her impatiently. She didn't seem to be an enemy - her left forearm was very much bare, and Harry was nearly certain she'd been the one to nurse him back to health - but where was Ron? Where was his partner in the Horcrux Hunt, his partner that had stayed with him from the beginning to now?

"Ron," he said, fighting to control the sharp edge in his voice. "He escaped too, didn't he?"

"Escape what?"

"The snake!" Harry shouted. "Ron's okay, isn't he?"

The girl - Hermione - frowned at him and put a hand on his shoulder. "Harry, are you feeling alright?" she asked, answering neither of his questions. "I think you need to rest a little more. Dinner's almost ready, I'll bring it over soon, just rest till then -"

If she was here, she had to know where Ron was. Harry's heartbeat thudded away in his chest as he thought about Voldemort seeing Harry and Ron twist and disappear in midair, out of his reach. Ron had definitely escaped with Harry, so where was he now?

He must have said the last part aloud because the girl said reprovingly, "Harry, you seriously need some rest. You're obviously mixing up the past few months. Ron" - her voice broke slightly, and Harry wondered why - "isn't here. He wasn't with us when we went to Godric's Hollow."

She said all this very soothingly, and it would have calmed him if it wasn't all bollocks.

"Us?" he repeated. "You weren't there. Who the hell are you, anyway?" The girl physically recoiled as Harry continued with increasing panic, "Where did you come from? How did you find us?"

"I don't understand, Harry," the girl squeaked. She gripped his arm. "It's me. Hermione. Why are you - what are you talking about? Why do you keep mentioning Ron?"

Harry wrestled his arm out of her tight grip. "Who are you?" he asked roughly. "Where's Ron?"

She was already lifting her wand by the time Harry spotted her frightened, hurt look. His last thought before the Sleeping Charm hit him was that he wondered how she could have possibly gotten past all of their tent wards when she seemed nothing more than an ordinary girl.


A bit of a rushed ending, I know. I have the intention of writing another chapter to tie this up better - but that's for after I get back from my hiatus ;)