-Summary: Harry loses his memory after Sirius' death -
he remembers nothing but his life at Privet Drive and the magic he's learned.
Once he re-meets everyone, his life is turned upside down... Rated R, Boy/Boy
love, Language, etc.
-Pairings: Harry Potter/Draco Malfoy
-Author Notes: Sorry this one's a bit short, and I kept
changing the title. It's staying the way it is now. (Named after my favorite
Judas Priest song.) This is my first time writing a fanfic, so it's bound
to not turn out right - read and review anyway. I'll take ideas for later
chapters too, if you have any. Thanks for reading! :)
***
A boy with raven black hair and glasses opened his bright green
eyes and glanced nervously around at his surroundings. Where was he? It
reminded him of a closet - small, dark, with an odd sharp scent here and
there. But why would there be moths in here? There didn't seem to anything
in here, but then again, he couldn't see anything. Or maybe... he saw something
shining a few paces away on the ground, and decided to see what it was.
He stood up and immediately banged his head on the ceiling, quickly cursed
under his breath, and sat back down on the floor. I feel like an animal,
he thought, as he crawled the few feet to the shiny pink object. Once he
got there, he sat back on his haunches and reached his hand towards the
tiny gleaming square on the ground - once he touched it, his mind cleared
of his surroundings and in his head, he saw a giant pink Drooble's Best
Blowing Gum wrapper. He tossed it away and stood halfway up, feeling around
the walls and corners, trying to find a way out of here.
"This doesn't feel like my closet at home, so where the hell am
I?" sighed the boy.
A deep, slow, calming voice answered him right away, "You're in
St. Mungo's, Harry." Somehow this voice was familiar to the boy - was that
his name, Harry? He had to find a way to get out of here. He shook his
head and whispered, "What happened?"
The voice drifted back to him, "You watched your godfather die,
Harry. You went nearly insane with grief. You even tried to put an unforgiveable
curse on someone. Lashing out at your friends, your family, your professors...
if we didn't move you here, Sirius wouldn't be the only one dead."
Harry felt a pang at his heart. He didn't know this 'Sirius',
so why should he care so deeply whether he was alive or not? He had to
keep this man talking so he could figure out where the door was. He mumbled
and blurted out, "But I don't know that person. Why don't I remember it?"
"You were so violent, we decided to erase your memory of all that
had happened that night in the Department of Mysteries. Unfortunately,
your mind was so far gone, it erased itself of your life at Hogwarts. You
don't remember a single person there, do you Harry?" questioned the man.
Harry thought as hard as he could. "Was Dudley one of them?"
"No," sighed the man. "I was afraid this would happen... you're
going to have to be re-educated all over again, I'm sorry to say."
Harry knew this stuff though! He could remember them, but had
no idea how they had gotten there. He sputtered, "Educated for what? I
know spells and stuff, I just don't remember anyone or anything that happened
there. Can't I just start where I left off?" He didn't know if he had any
friends or not, but he assumed he didn't, just like it was at Privet Drive,
so he wanted to be finished with this 'school' as soon as possible. Then
he could go and live by himself, and not have to worry about anyone else.
"This term is already 2 weeks started. If it's really what you
want, Harry, we'll get you back in time for you to not miss very much at
all. Would you like that?" the man said.
Harry felt like he was being talked to as though he was a child.
He was starting to dislike this man, whoever he was. "Yes, please," he
replied, with a hint of annoyance in his voice. He had never felt anger
or sadness like this at his home on Privet Drive, even though the Dursleys
treated him like yesterday's garbage. He felt empty, like nothing could
be his anymore. He felt completely and utterly alone. Reaching to the floor,
he grabbed the gum wrapper and put it in his pocket. It was the only thing
he could hold on to, and a reminder of his misfortune.
And for this, he began hating everyone he met.
