His brain was slowly shutting down. It started with him forgetting what he ate in the morning, and then it progressed to the day of the week. Following that was his grandkids' birthdays, the month, the year, his name, what happened in his youth, and then he forgot-
Forgot-
Errr…
What couldn't he remember?
He forgot what he forgot.
If he never remembered what he forgot, does that mean that he never forgot it in the first place?
But he forgot something.
And he forgot whether or not he forgot it and noted that if he forgot that he forgot it then it was possible that there was never anything to forget in the first place.
So he forgot that he forgot something he forgot and he was unsure whether or not he forgot it.
He felt like he was forgetting something.
He let out a long sigh.
Oh dear.
Ohhhhh dear.
He was confusing himself.
(Didn't he always?)
Shut up, brain, he thought, you aren't helping.
So he forgot-
Okay.
You know what?
Forget it. Forget that he ever had this mental conversation. This was going absolutely nowhere.
(And he forgot what he was talking about forgetting in the first place.)
(What?)
(T-)
(Shut up brain this conversation is over.)
(Oh really? Make me.)
He rubbed his temples.
What the bloody hell was going on.
He was arguing with himself and losing.
Oh joy.
Small crack I felt like doing.
I don't own Harry Potter.
