A young woman made her way down the busy London sidewalk taking great care not to bump into anyone as she passed them. She occasionally looked up to see the dark grey clouds overhead that was hiding the sun from view.
Ironic really, maybe she'd have even found it humorous long ago, because she hadn't seen the sun in quite some time, not really.
The wind was blowing her hair into her face making her swat at it with her hands every few seconds, Damn, I knew I should've put my hair up today, this is ridiculous. She could've used a spell, or even apparated, but thought it would be a waste of time. She was almost there anyways.
She turned the corner of a small furniture store where a grizzled old man was talking with a small boy who looked to be around 8 or so and her destination was revealed. Towering above all the other smaller building around it and looking out of place as the only one seemingly abandoned, stood ST Mungos. The red brick was fading due to the weather's elements and even she had to admit it looked rather lonely. This was the place she had been coming to every single day for the past 3 years. The bitterness that accompanied why she even had to come here everyday in the first place surrounded her, suffocating her.
It never got any easier.
She walked up to the building and passed through the window with the dummy, unnoticed by the muggles outside, and appeared in a brightly lit waiting room.
The atmosphere of the hospital was rather subdued today, lucky for her because that meant she didn't have to wait, and made her way to elevator at the end of the room.
Once the elevator clanged open she stepped inside and pushed her finger on the fourth floor button. Usually she took the stairs to give her time to think, but when she did, it always left her feeling depressed.
Well, more depressed she thought.
The doors opened and she stepped out into a hallway. She made the same trek to the overseer's station to let them know she was visiting, and then she started to make her way down the long hallways to Ward 11.
Panic usually set in by Ward 3 and by Ward 7 she usually just held her breath. By the time she reached Ward 10 she had completed her "calm down you can do this" mantra to prepare her for the heartache she felt everytime she came here. She stopped in front of the door to Ward 11 and hesitated only briefly before knocking.
"Come in," she heard the voice call from behind the door.
She opened the door and walked into the room, letting the door close itself softly behind her.
She didn't immediately look at the person she knew was sitting at the desk who had been looking out the window moments before she had knocked. Instead, she looked around the room to take in her surroundings, as she always did when she came here.
The room had the look of a long term patient as his own touch could clearly be seen around the room. The walls were covered in pictures of various people important to the man, she herself was in many of them. A book, "Quidditch Through The Ages" was laying open on the bed that was against the far wall. The whole room was rather dimly lit but the healers say he liked it that way.
Finally, she turned to him.
Harry Potter sat staring at her with the same curious expression he always did when she first arrived. She almost broke down right there at the look he gave her, a look that use to show recognition.
"Hey Harry," she said shakily, "The nurses are saying that you're doing a bit better today."
"Yeah I feel loads better today. They haven't even had to knock me out yet," he said proudly with a smile. Usually he became uncontrollable, his mood swings erratic, and the healers would have to subdue him. She had been here plenty of times for that and was always left shaken in the aftermath of it.
This was all Voldemort's fault she thought bitterly. He had filled Harry's head with so many horrible memories before being defeated that it had broken his mind. He was a shell. He was plagued by nightmares every night and never recognized anyone that visited him. The healers said there was a small portion, minuscule they said, that was left undamaged. At first she held onto that like a lifeline, hoping that he could be cured, or that he could at least remember everyone, remember her. But it had been 3 years and no recognition had flashed in his eyes when she came to visit. No sign at all that he recognized her for who or what she had been to him.
"Bean?" Harry said breaking her out of her thoughts.
She looked up to see Harry holding out a Bertie Bott's Bean to her.
"Sure," she said with a smile as she took the proffered bean, and sniffed it before popping it in her mouth.
"Mhm, Butterscotch," she said.
"That's your favorite," Harry said, "I myself like the peppermint or treacle tart but Butterscotch is okay."
"What did you say?" she said not daring to believe it.
"I like peppermint?" Harry said
"No before that."
"Oh," he laughed, "I said that butterscotch is your favorite."
She was starting to get excited. Maybe she would be able to break through to him little by little after all, "How do you know that?"
"Um," Harry look confused for a second and she almost crossed her fingers hoping he would remember something else but she was dissapointed when he replied, "I don't know. I feel like it's an obvious answer like it's just something you know and you've never questioned it.
Her heart sank.
You should've known better than to get your hopes up, she scolded herself, You know he is irreparable.
"Are you okay?" he asked, "You seem kind of sad."
"No I'm fine," she smiled gently even though she wasn't, "Just a little tired."
Every time she came in he asked that question and every time her answer was the same.
"Can I tell you something without you thinking I'm crazy?" Harry asked.
"Sure, fire away," she replied.
Well," he started, "Sometimes I get this feeling like I know you. Like I knew you before this hospital, before my accident."
"Do you now?" she asked, "And why is that?"
"I don't know, he said slowly, "Call it intuition. It's like all my memories are being thrown around in a blender and I can't grab a hold on any particular one. Believe me I try, I know there is a lot of things I don't remember."
"Well just keep trying, she said with a smile, "You'll get one eventually."
Yeah, maybe."
The lapsed into a comfortable silence sitting side by side and she closed her eyes. She could almost pretend that the bed they were sitting on wasn't a hospital bed. She could almost pretend that she had her Harry back and everything was as it should be.
She slipped her hand inside his and surprisingly he didn't flinch away or try to remove it.
They sat there, for what seemed like an eternity to her, but was really only ten minutes when a nurse knocked on the door quietly and walked in.
She took a look at their entwined hands and smiled before saying, "I hate to ask you to leave Miss but it's almost time for his potions. I'll let you say goodbye."
She backed out of the room with another smile and closed the door.
"Well guess I gotta go," she said with a laugh, "Wouldn't want to get chucked out by force."
"Yeah," Harry laughed but she could tell something was bothering him now.
"Are you okay Harry?"
"Yeah," he replied, "Just tired I guess."
The fact that he used the same excuse she did not 20 minutes ago was almost laughable... almost.
She didn't want to leave but knew she had to. She felt like if she could just spend more time with him, she'd be able to help him remember something, anything.
"I'll see you tomorrow Harry," she said as she stood up, bent over and kissed him on the cheek.
Before she could even see his reaction or hear his reply she opened the door and was gone.
I watched as the beautiful red-headed woman that comes to see me everyday exited the hospital and walked down the street. I knew who she was. In this moment, I remember. I remember everything. I remember what happened to me. I know this won't last long, it never does. Usually only a few minutes at most. I take pleasure in it though because for the time being, I can remember what it was like to hold her in my arms.
I wondered how life could be so cruel as I leaned against the window, wanting to cry but not letting myself, as I watched Ginny Weasley walk away from me.
Some people have the ability to walk into the deepest corners of their mind, and come back unchanged... But I'd lose myself to the darkness. I did lose.