Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter.
Thank you to J.K Rowling, for allowing me to build sandcastles on her beach!
A/N: This will probably be a multi-chaptered fanfic, it depends if you guys enjoy it, and if I like writing it!
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The first thing that I notice when I wake up is that I've got the feeling I've been asleep for a long time.

I come to slowly, squinting in the dim light of the room.
Reaching up to rub my eyes, I frown as I touch glasses; I never fall asleep with my glasses on, not even when I'm really tired.
I'm cold, I must have kicked off the duvet in the night, and I roll over, but there's no one there.

Wait.
Should there be someone there?

I sit up, all grogginess gone, but I can still feel my hesitation, settling like a thick fog of confusion across my mind.
I'm fully-clothed, shoes and all, lying on a bed that's unfamiliar and hard. I'm in a room, small and bare, except for a bed and a table with what looks like a glass of water set upon it. There's not a window, so the room is lit by what I'm guessing is a light under the bed.
Where am I?

I rack my brain for why I'm here, and I can't remember anything, so I start to panic, but then some things start to come back to me.
Simple things, things that I'm certain are true.
My name is Marlene McKinnon. I'm 19 years old. I wear glasses.

They're simple, I know them like I know how to breathe.
Then they are other pieces of information, ones that normally would sound crazy but I know are true, just like I know that my name is Marlene.
I'm a witch. I'm also an Auror. I went to Hogwarts, and I was a Gryffindor along with…with…
With who?

Trying to keep my breathing steady, I look down at what I'm wearing, a pink top and leggings, with a pair of worn grey trainers, and I reach up to touch my hair, which is up in a messy bun, with several long pins shoved into it. Comfortable clothes.
I hear a noise and reach for my back pocket automatically, then feel a flicker of panic. My wand's not there.

I scan the room, and then stand up, and walk over to the door, which is huge and wooden, with a large silver knob, and a lock with no key. Reaching for the knob, I'm unsurprised as it fails to open.

Voices.
Echoing as if through the walls.
My first instinct is to shout for help, but something stops me.
If they've locked me in a room, I doubt they're friendly.
I run over to the right wall, climbing onto the bed, press my ear to the wall, but I can't hear them properly.
Then I have an idea.

The liquid in the glass is clear, and odourless, but then so is Veritaserum, and that's not exactly something I want to be drinking. Instinct tells me to pour a little bit of the liquid on my little finger, and see what happens. Usually I would just throw the water away, let it sink into the carpet, but I'm thirsty, and who knows how long I'll be stuck in here. After waiting for what feels about a minute, my finger is fine, so I drink it down, smiling because it's water, just water, and these people, whoever they are, don't want to poison me at all.

I press the glass to the wall and go to listen but I'm crippled by something.
Something beautiful and vivid and painful.
A flash of memory.
A boy, handsome and laughing. A kiss on the Astronomy tower. A glimpse of star. A name.

"Sirius…"
I'm talking out loud to myself, willing for more things, willing to remember more, but my stupid brain, it just won't remember…

Shaking my head and willing myself to focus, I press my ear to the base of the cup and listen. I can't hear exactly what they're saying, but I can hear the voice, deep, calm and reassuring. I recognise it, I know I do, and it's so annoying because I can't think of who it is and, and...

Kingsley Shacklebolt!
That's who it is.
I've got a name now.
So my memories are coming back, albeit slowly.
That's at least slightly reassuring.

He's saying something quietly, soothingly, and I'm remembering more, like that he was in Gryffindor too, and he was in the year above me and he was friends with...with...but I can't remember any more.

Then someone else speaks, and their voice is raised, and he's angry, voice pained and weary. This time I recognise the voice straight away, and there's a memory again, and it's bright and clear, like it happened recently.

"Are you sure you don't want to come?"
It's a boy, a boy with brown hair and brown eyes, and he's speaking in the voice I recognised, but here he sounds happy, teasing.
"I don't fancy seeing Moody yell at you for missing shifts. Ask Sirius, he might go with you."
I look different too, maybe I'm younger, no, I'm happier, and I'm laughing.
Then he comes through the door, Sirius, and he's looks so good it hurts, in his favourite leather jacket.

The memory fades, and I'm left with more questions than answers.
Still, now I know who he is, the owner of that voice.
"Remus Lupin," I test the name on my tongue, and it sounds right, familiar.
Remus Lupin. One of my best friends.
But who is Moody?
Missing shifts?
How do I know Sirius?
Are we friends?
Are we more?
Why am I here?
And why can't I remember the answer to any of these questions?

The voices from the other side of the wall have got louder, so I don't need the cup anymore to hear Remus shouting.
"Why can't I see her? This is stupid!"
"Albus-"
"To hell with Dumbledore! She must be terrified. What was that spell anyway?"

Then their voices quieten down, and I can no longer hear them, but my mind's still racing.
I slip my shoes off and sit down, cross-legged, on the floor, folding my glasses on the floor in front of me so that the room goes fuzzy.
Pressing the heels of my hands to my eye-lids, I watch stars explode in front of my eyes and let go as I start to feel a bit nauseous.
Blinking quickly to clear my vision, I shove my glasses back on my face and lean back against the bed. The wall is dark-grey, nearly black, and the colour jolts something else in my mind.

"Black. Sirius Black."
He's sitting next to me in a cosy room, and there's a cat curled up in my lap as he plays with my hair.
"Sounds kind of poetic, don't you think, Mar?"
"I suppose. But then your name would have to be poetic, wouldn't it? You couldn't be satisfied with a normal name like mine."
"No," He agrees, and I lean back into him. "but then your name isn't normal."
"Really? It sounds normal to me."
"Nah. Your name could never be normal, love. And you know why that is?"
"Why's that?"
"Because it's your name, and you are far from normal."
We're both smiling, and the cat purrs louder as I scratch behind its ears and chip in with my own response.
"Besides, normal's a setting on a washing machine."
We both laugh, and I'm smiling as the memory fades.

So now he has a last name. Sirius Black.
I miss him, I realise, sitting on the floor, staring at the wall.
I miss Sirius Black and that night curled up in the Gryffindor common room.
I miss him.
I miss Sirius Black.
And I don't even know who he is.

I have to get out of here.
Now.

I'm standing up before I know where I am, and I start to shout, hitting the wall with my fists.
"Remus! Remus! HELP! Hello? Somebody? HELP!"
They've gone silent when I stop yelling, and at first I think they've heard me, but then they start talking again, and I realise that they must have been thinking. I may not remember much, but I know Remus. Deep in my gut, I know that he wouldn't ignore me like that.
So they can't hear me.
So this room's been soundproofed.
So they can't hear me.
So I'm stuck here.

I'm so angry, so upset, so frustrated, that I start to cry.
Pulling my glasses off once again, I wipe my eyes and rub my aching head, closing my eyes and leaning back against the bed.
Against the blackness, I can see faces, faces and places and memories, flickering across my mind's eye like a broken tape, whirring faster and faster until they're blurring and I can no longer make out any of them. My head gives a painful stab behind my eyes, and I bite my lip to keep from crying out, not wanting to show weakness even though I'm alone.

There's a memory, just out of reach, tantalisingly close, close enough to touch, and I can tell that it is important, but I can't reach it. All I've got is a face, Sirius' face, contorted by fear, yelling, shouting something, speaking to me, but I can't remember what he said, or what it means.
It's hopeless.
I'm hopeless.

The voices fade completely, and I hear a door slam.
Instantly I'm on my feet, running up to the door, banging on it, yelling for help.
There's no answer, no sound of footsteps.

I focus on the door in front of me, willing it to open, trying to force it with my mind.
Nothing happens.
The spell comes to me, and I speak it confidently, despite my lack of a wand.
"Alohomora."
Nothing happens.
Groaning, I flop back down on the bed, and then shoot back up again into seating position as I hear a noise.

I hold my breath.
And the door creaks open.

What do you think will happen? Where is she? What's going on? Why can't she remember anything?
Let me know what you think! All reviews are appreciated! Any ideas, suggestions, etc. Let me know.
I love to hear what you guys want to happen, and what you guys think!

Happy reading,
She-who-loves-fanfiction xx