Written for the QLFC, Finals

Team: Pride of Portree

Beater 2 Prompt:(scenario Character A wakes up with no memory of who they are or where they are. It's up to Character B to help them.)

Optional Prompts:

2. (dialogue) "Perhaps you'll take me out one day - or do I have to make an appointment?"

3. (dialogue) "Wow, this is a rather inappropriate time to drop by."

6. (object) Piano

Word count (not including AN): 2018

Obviously AU

And finally, thank you to my teammates/betas over the past season! I've enjoyed writing with you!

Memories

Stretching, I ease out of bed and pad across the floor. As if by routine, I wash my face and brush my teeth, drying my face with a towel hanging by the sink. Damn. I feel like I've been run over by a lorry! The thought stops me, and I wonder for a moment if I am coming down with the flu. Shrugging, I walk back to the bedroom to ready myself for the day. However, I am stopped short by a terrifying thought.

Where in the hell am I? I look around frantically, trying to understand my surroundings. I rush to my closet, recognizing none of the clothes hanging in there. The books on my shelf are familiar, but the shelving itself is not. When I turn back to face my bed, I freeze.

Who the hell is in my bed? I wrack my brain for an answer, but none are forthcoming. Of course, it makes sense that I don't remember the man in the bed. I don't even remember my own name! I rush back to the bathroom and look into the mirror.

Brown, frizzy hair...ugh...I definitely need to find some better conditioner! Pretty okay skin. No need for glasses. Teeth are decent. I stretch to get a better look at my body. Not going to win any beauty contests, but it'll do. I look around to see if I can find anything with my name on it.

Towels have GW on them. G...G...Gertrude? Ugh, I hope not! Gretchen? Glenda, the Good Witch of the North? I make myself giggle at that thought. Finding nothing that can tell me my name, I ease back into the bedroom and rummage through the bedside table.

"Hermione? You up already?" The red-headed man in the bed feels around, looking for me, I assume.

Wait. Hermione? I would have never thought of that name.

"Uh, yeah? I've been up a while…" I trail off.

My bedmate looks confused. "Hermione? Are you okay?"

Not wanting to show any weakness, yet at the same time, needing answers, I shrug. "I, uh, I don't know. I didn't even know my name was Hermione until you said it." Close to tears, I whisper, "I don't know who you are, or who I am. Who am I?" I softly beg.

His brown eyes widen. "You...you don't remember who you are?" Quickly, the man stands and makes his way over to me, wearing only his boxers. "Love, why—" Before he reaches me, he realizes his state of undress and mumbles something under his breath. Suddenly, to my surprise, his trousers fly across the room into his waiting hand.

I scream only seconds before blacking out.

Seemingly minutes later, I wake up again in my (my?) bed. Mr. Magic is standing over me, fully dressed and obviously distressed.

"Hermione! You're awake. Thank Merlin!" He goes into the bathroom and returns with a glass of water. "Here, drink this." I take the water and then look back at him.

"I have even more questions now than I did before you woke up." I'm a bit perturbed by now; I don't like not knowing things.

The man nods and sits down in the chair close to the bed. "Sure thing. First question?"

"Who am I?" I need to know.

"Your name is Hermione Jean Granger-Weasley. You're twenty-seven years old, and you're an attorney at the Ministry. You advocate for the rights of magical beings."

You've got to be kidding me. "Magical...beings?"

He nods. "You're a witch. Magic, werewolves, wands...Merlin himself...are all real." He looks as if he has given this speech before. "Next question?"

"And you are?" I figure I can deal with the whole magic situation later.

"I'm George Weasley. I'm your husband." He turns to look out the window, and I notice that he is missing an ear, a fact I missed earlier due to my minor breakdown. "We've been married just over three years."

I reach down and play with the beautiful wedding ring I have just noticed. "What happened to me, George?"

George reaches up and wipes his face with his hand. He looks as if he could cry. "I wish I knew, Hermione. I truly do." He reaches over and grabs my hand. "I'm going to call Harry and Ron. They will figure something out."

A short time later, two men walk into the living area where I'm sitting. George had gone to "Floo" them and fill them in.

The first one I notice has the same shocking red hair as George. Must be related. He's tall and has striking blue eyes. The other guy is the epitome of a quiet storm. Shorter than the redhead, the raven-haired man has emerald-green eyes and a faint lightning-bolt scar on his forehead.

"Harry, Ron," George greets as he stands to shake their hands. The taller man turns to me.

"Hermione? What happened?"

George sighs. "Ron, if we knew that, we wouldn't have called you two for help. She doesn't know," he stresses as if Ron were a child.

The one I assume is Harry holds his hand up. "Whoa, George. We know this is stressing you out, but relax. We just want to help."

I speak up. "I woke up and discovered I had no idea where I was, who I was, or even with whom I share my bed. I'm completely clueless."

Harry sits beside me while Ron takes the armchair across from us. Harry asks, "What is the last thing you remember?"

I close my eyes and think. "Waking up this morning. I acted routinely, I guess, until I realized I had no memory as to where I was and what I was doing."

Ron looks at Harry. "We need to make sure she hasn't been Obliviated. And if she has, we have to figure out who did it."

Suddenly, I'm frozen by a feeling of hysteria. I fall to the floor, not sure if I should laugh or cry. I do know this isn't normal, though. "H...he...help!"

George jumps up and grabs me in his arms. "What's wrong? She looks like she's being cursed! Can you two reverse it?"

The two men point their wands and say something. I finally calm down enough for me to sit up. "What the hell was that?" I look between my husband and the others.

"A tickling charm?" Ron suggests.

Harry looks concerned. "This is baffling. George, I'd take her to St. Mungo's. If they can't do anything, call Poppy. We've got to get to the bottom of this."

The young Healer looks at his notes. "Hmm...So you don't remember anythingbefore this morning, Mrs. Weasley?"

I shake my head. "Nothing at all. It's like I woke up this morning for the first time."

He nods. "I'm going to be honest: this is a rare case. Can't say I've seen anything like it before."

I stand quickly. "You mean you can't do anything for me?" I feel George grab my hand, trying to calm me down. I sit down slowly.

The Healer smirks a bit; he seems very sure of himself. "I need to run a few tests, but I think I have an idea what's going on." He waves his wand over my body and nods. "Head on home. I'll Floo over in a bit if that's okay."

Later, sitting in the living room with George and waiting on the Healer, I begin to process the information that's been given to me today. George Weasley is my husband, and he is probably as distraught as I am. "George?"

Distracted, George looks at me. "Yeah, love?"

"Tell me about us."

Smiling, he grasps my hand tighter. "This is a bit strange, but gladly." He clears his throat. "Well, we went to school together. You were a perfect little prefect, and I was a mischievous troublemaker. You pretended to hate the pranks that Fred and I set upon the school, but…"

"Fred? Is he another brother of yours?" I ask innocently. However, I can tell immediately that my question isn't so innocent. The corners of George's mouth drop at the mention of Fred.

"Fred was my best friend. My twin. He...uh...he was killed in the battle at Hogwarts your seventh year."

Oh. George just sat there, staring blankly at nothing at all. I feel terrible, bringing up such awful memories for my husband, and I'm amazed at how well I'm taking the news of a battle at my school. I slowly reach out and run my hand down his face. "I'm sorry, George."

"You helped me get through it, Hermione. Without you, I would have folded into myself. But you…" He looks at me so tenderly I catch my breath. "You saved me, Hermione. Thank you again." Without thinking, I kiss the corner of his mouth, and he smiles. He slowly goes in for another kiss, silently asking for my approval, which I shyly give.

At that moment, however, the Floo activates, and the Healer strolls out of the fireplace, realizing that he has interrupted something intimate. "Wow, this is a rather inappropriate time to drop by. Have you recovered any memories yet, Mrs. Weasley?"

"Not yet, doctor. I was hoping you have some good news?" I suggest.

"Actually, my hypothesis was correct. Did you know you're pregnant?" he asks innocently.

Pregnant? I shake my head. "I don't think I did." Pregnant?

"Wha-What does that have to do with her memory?" George looks shocked.

The Healer smiles. "The baby is undoubtedly powerful, and with his core forming and adjusting, you, Hermione, are unfortunately the closest recipient. It should stabilize very soon. Congratulations, you two." He turns to leave.

"Wait!" I stand quickly. "What about my memory?"

The Healer shrugs. "Because it was cast in utero, the spell should wear off within the day. If not, come back and see me." He disappears into the fireplace.

I look at George. "A baby? You had no idea?"

George just stands and stares at me for a moment. "I hadn't the foggiest." He then grabs my hand and pulls. "Follow me."

The two of us enter a room with a small black piano in the corner. George sits on the bench and tugs me down beside him. Suddenly, he begins playing a beautiful melody, unfamiliar to me, but what isn't today?

"What's the name of this one?" I ask, enjoying the music, which is stirring familiar emotions in the back of my mind.

"It's not named. I played it at our wedding for you, and since, I've only ever played it for you. It's your song." He gives me a soft look as he plays. "I'm so full of emotion right now that I can't process it properly. Exactly the reason I took up piano."

Slowly, as we sit there long into the night, memories trickle in, and I savor the feeling. Goofing off with Harry and Ron at Hogwarts. Summers at the Burrow. Our first kiss. Our wedding. I begin humming with the music.

"Royce Prewitt Weasley."

George's head jerks up, and the music stops. "What'd you say?"

"The baby's name. The doctor said that it's a boy. Let's name him Royce Prewitt Weasley. Just like you said you'd want to name our first boy. Right?" I grin as he realizes my memories have returned.

He reaches over and kisses me softly. "You're back?"

"For now. No telling how long Royce will let me stay."

"Well then, in that case, perhaps you'll take me out one day - or do I have to make an appointment? You have been quite busy lately."

I laugh. "Me take you out? Aren't you supposed to take me out?"

"Of course not! One-" he counts the reasons off on his fingers, "-you make more money than I do. Two, I just found out I'm going to be a father! And three, I'm the best shag you've ever had." He grins as if he has cracked the best joke yet.

I shrug. "I can't fault you there. Let's go now. I'm starving!"