A/N: A new story to add to my HP collection. It's about an Amnesiac Death Eater who runs into the Golden Trio during the Deathly Hallows. Let's see what happens.
Chapter 1
He opened his blue eyes. He was staring at the clear night sky. It was cold, very cold. He sat up, looked around, and saw that he had been lying in an alley, on the snow covered ground. He didn't remember how he got there, nor did he remember where he was. Come to think of it, he didn't even remember who he was. His head was also pounding and there was a ringing in his ears. He began to stand to his feet and felt a surge of pain in his abdomen. He groaned and lifted up his shirt, which revealed a large purple and black bruise over the left side of his ribs.
The blue eyed man ignored the pain and leaned back, where his hand touched something. He grabbed what his hand was touched it and examined it. It was a twelve inch long stick, no a wand. But how did he know it was a wand if he didn't remember anything. The man tightened his grip on the wand, and stood up, stifling a groan from the pain in his ribs. A second later, the man began limping towards the end of the alley as so many questions plagued his mind.
A minute later, the blue eyed man stumbled onto the sidewalk, nearly tripping, but falling against a large sign. He pushed off the sign and looked at it which read: Welcome to Godric's Hollow.
So I'm in Godric's Hollow, he thought. Strange name for a village.
Suddenly, a door burst open, a light shined on the blue eyed man and loud laughter was heard. The man shielded his eyes from the light and quickly ducked back into the shadows. He watched as two drunken men stumbled out of what looked to be a pub, both holding onto one another and walking down the street, away from the blue eyed man. The man stumbled out of the shadows, stepped forward, and nearly tripped, landing on a post. He looked up at the post. It was a street post with the name Ash Street.
Pushing off the street post, the blue eyed man limped across the street; every step was pain, but running into someone made it a lot worse. He groaned when he bumped into the person and was pushed back.
"I'm sorry," he said, taking a step back, looking at the shorter person, but not being able to see who they were. The person violently hissed back, and then slowly turned, and began to walk away. The blue eyed man stared at the person, and couldn't help feeling that that person was up to something that wasn't good. So, holding in his pain, he slowly followed the person down the street.
Minutes later, the shadowed person led the blue eyed person to a graveyard where they soon stopped and stared into the graveyard. The man stopped, and hid behind the tree, wondering what they were doing. They were staring right into the graveyard. The man turned his eyes towards the graveyard and began to quickly scan the place. And soon enough, he saw them; a man and a woman, standing in front of a grave. He watched as the woman pulled something out, a wand, and watched as she waved it and a reef was conjured in front of the grave. There weren't just an ordinary man and woman, but a witch and wizard.
Magic, he thought. They used it with that wand, which means, I can too with my wand.
The man looked back at the two, who seemed to be talking to one another, but he couldn't hear them. The couple began to leave the graveyard, and once outside the gate, the blue eyed man blinked, and they were gone. They disappeared, but how? With more magic? He turned back towards the person to the shadows who began to walk, so he turned and followed after them, as sneaky as possible. Minutes passed by as the blue eyed man watched as the person walked under a light, showing him that it was a woman. He continued to follow her down the street and then stop at a house as he hid behind a large tree. This wasn't like any other house on the street. Most of the cottage was still standing, though entirely covered in dark ivy and snow, but the right side of the top floor had been blown apart. The blue eyed man turned to the woman who seemed to be staring into the space in front of her. She raised her hand, and sort of waved towards herself.
What is she doing? He thought, and then a voice surprised him.
"Are you Bathilda?" someone said. The man froze and looked around, searching for the person who had spoken, but there was no one else around. But the woman nodded and waved again, still puzzling to the blue eyed man.
A second later, the woman turned and began to hobble on back the way she had come. The blue eyed man waited until she passed, and waited a bit longer, and then began to follow her once more. She led him past several house, and then finally turned at the gate. He waited and watched as she walked up the front path and up towards the door, to which she opened. She stepped back as if waiting for someone to walk in and the walked into the house herself. The blue eyed man then slowly and quietly walked up to the house, and up to a window.
He peaked into the darkened house. He couldn't see much, but he could now see three figure standing close to one another. She was by herself, where did the other two people come from? Were the invisible before?
"Bathilda?" The blue eyed man heard someone say, sounding like a man. He looked at the shortest figure, who nodded. Bathilda? He thought. Now, why does that name seem familiar?
Bathilda shuffled past the other two, pushing past the other person aside as though she had not seen them, and vanished into another room. The couple followed. The blue eyed man took this time to move to the door, slowly open it, and quietly as possible, enter the house. Once inside, a foul odor hit his nostrils, one he felt smelt like death itself. It was horrible.
"Harry, I'm not sure about this," The Blue eyed man heard, sounding like a woman.
"Look at the size of her, I think we could overpower her if we had to," The man said, "Listen, I should have told you, I knew she wasn't all there. Muriel called her 'gaga.'"
"Come!" The blue eyed man heard Bathilda call.
"It's okay," The other man said reassuringly.
The blue eyed man stood at the entrance of the sitting, and peeked in, and just as he did, a candle was lit giving off some light. He could finally see the people. There was a balding, middle-aged Muggle man, and who looked to be his small and rather mousy wife. And the other woman was small, and old. Her eyes were thick with cataracts and sunken in folds of transparent skin, and her whole face was dotted with broken veins and liver spots. He wondered how she was even still alive looking like that.
Soon, the fireplace was lit by the mousy woman, and the balding man was confronting the older woman. "Mrs.—Miss—Bagshot?" he said, and his voice shook slightly. "Who is this?"
So, her name is Bathilda Bagshot, he thought. Where do I know that name?
"Miss Bagshot?" The man repeated, and he advanced with a picture in his hands. "Who is this person?" He asked her, pushing the picture forward. She peered at it solemnly, then up at man. "Do you know who this is?" he repeated in a much slower and louder voice than usual. "This man? Do you know him? What's he called?" Bathilda merely looked vague. "Who is this man?" he repeated loudly.
"Harry, what are you doing?" his wife asked.
"This picture, Hermione, it's the thief, the thief who stole from Gregorovitch! Please!" he said to Bathilda. "Who is this?"
Gregorovitch, now there's another familiar name, but I can't be sure, the blue eyed man thought.
"Why did you ask us to come with you, Mrs.—Miss— Bagshot?" The woman called Hermione asked. "Was there something you wanted to tell us?"
Giving no sign that she had heard Hermione, Bathilda now shuffled a few steps closer to Harry. With a little jerk of her head she looked back into the hall. "You want us to leave?" he asked.
She repeated the gesture, this time pointing firstly at him, then at herself, then at the ceiling. "Oh, right ... Hermione, I think she wants me to go upstairs with her."
"All right," said Hermione, "let's go." But when Hermione moved, Bathilda shook her head with surprising vigor, once more pointing first at Harry, then to herself.
"She wants me to go with her, alone."
"Why?" asked Hermione, and her voice rang out sharp and clear in the candlelit room.
Why indeed, the blue eyed man thought.
The old lady shook her head a little at the loud noise. "Maybe Dumbledore told her to give the sword to me, and only me?"
"Do you really think she knows who you are?"
"Yes," said Harry, looking down into the milky eyes fixed upon his own, "I think she does."
"Well, okay then, but be quick, Harry."
"Lead the way," Harry told Bathilda.
The blue eyed man watched as the man named Harry and Bathilda walk out of the room, leaving the woman named Hermione by herself. He waited, wondering if he should make himself known to the woman at the moment. It may scare the woman who would probably attack him with magic. So, for now, he waited. He wanted to know what the old woman was up to, and he knew it wasn't good. He didn't know how he could tell, but he just knew.
Suddenly, there was a thump, coming from upstairs, and then another, and another, and then, a shout. He turned to see the woman run out of the room, and he took this time to quickly follow her through the sitting room and up some stairs. He stopped at a room and looked inside. It was dark, but he could make out what was happening. A giant snake was attacking the man, and the woman through a curse at the snake which released the man.
Suddenly, the snake struck towards the woman who dived aside with a shriek, shooting a curse, but it was deflected and struck a nearby window, causing it to shatter. Frozen air filled the room, even the blue eyed man could feel it.
Then there was a loud bang and a flash of red light, and the snake flew into the air, smacking Harry hard in the face as it went, coil after heavy coil rising up to the ceiling. The man named Harry raised his wand, but as he did, he grabbed his forehead, groaning in pain. "He's coming! Hermione, he's coming!" He yelled as the snake fell, hissing wildly. Everything was chaos; it smashed shelves from the wall, and splintered china flew everywhere. While grabbing his forehead, the man named Harry tackled the woman to the ground.
The snake reared again, about to attack. The man was groaning in pain, on top of his wife who was unable to aim at the snake. "Harry, I can't see the snake!" the woman cried.
The snake lunged, and the blue eyed man took his chance, and ran into the room, pointing his wand at the snake. He didn't know how, but he just said the first thing that came to his mind. "Confringo!" he shouted. The spell flew around the room, exploding the wardrobe mirror and ricocheting back, bouncing from floor to ceiling; He covered his face, but still felt some glass cut his uncovered skin, like his hand or face, or neck. He could also feel his clothes tear.
The blue eyed man looked for the snake and then saw it staring right at him, and suddenly his left arm burned with hot pain. Quickly ignoring, he ran to the fallen couple and helped pick up the man named Harry.
"Come on!" he cried. "We have to get out of here!" Hermione nodded and stood up, and grabbed onto him.
"This way," she said, and led him towards a window.
"Are you mad!?" the blue eyed man growled. "We're on the second floor!" But he was ignored, and with great strength, pulled both men, jumping through the smashed window, and suddenly twisting into midair.
A second later, the blue eyed man fell to hard, snow covered ground, pain soaring into abdomen. It didn't help when the man named Harry fell on top of him.
"Harry!" the woman named Hermione screeched, pulling Harry off of the man. The blue eyed man groaned in relief and sat up, shocked to see that both persons physical features had changed. They weren't an old middle-age couple, but a young adult couple. The young woman had brown bushy hair, brown eyes, and peach colored skin. The young man had raven colored hair, pale skin, and when the woman opened his eye lids, he had green eyes.
"Thank you," Hermione said, glancing at the blue eyed man, who was now standing over them, holding onto his left arm that was still giving off a small burn.
"No problem," he replied, and then said in an instant, "Polyjuice potion." He remembered something. It was a potion that gave you the ability to change into another person.
"What?" Hermione said, looking up at him.
The blue eyed shook his head. "Nothing," he said.
"What's your name?" She asked, tending to the now unconscious Harry.
I don't know, he thought as he scratched his left forearm. But I can't tell her that. I have to tell her something. Anything. "Ash," he answered. "Just call me Ash."
"Well, Ash, thank you for helping us out back there," Hermione said and then stood to her feet. "Could you keep an eye on him while I put up a few spells?" Ash gave a nod and kneeled next to Harry while Hermione began walking around, waving her wand, and whispering incantations.
Ash looked down at the unconscious man, well, young man, who looked to be no older than seventeen or eighteen. Not like Ash knew what his age was either, he couldn't remember anything since he woke up in that alley back in Godric's Hollow. Ash looked back down at Harry's face, catching a glimpse of something on his forehead, under his bangs. He brushed the bangs aside, revealing a lightning bolt scar. He raised his eyebrow at it, thinking nothing of it, and then brushed the hair back where it was.
"Could you help me put him in the tent?" Hermione spoke from, appearing next to Ash.
"Tent?" Ash replied, turning towards Hermione, and then saw a tent already set up behind her. "Okay," he said. Ash stood up, swished and flicked his wand at Harry who immediately began to levitate. Whoa, interesting, He thought to himself as he began levitating Harry towards the tent.
Once inside, Ash was amazed and in awe when he saw that the tent was bigger on the inside, not going unnoticed by Hermione. He then levitated Harry over to a bed, and released the charm on him. "What happened to him?" he asked.
"It's complicated," Hermione answered, sitting next to Harry and touching his forehead.
Not as complicated as what I'm going through, he thought. "Try me," Ash said, scratching his left forearm.
"Honestly, I shouldn't tell you," Hermione replied, looking up at Ash. "It's not my story to tell." Ash nodded in understanding. He turned, a little too fast, and hissed in pain, grabbing onto his abdomen.
"Are you alright?" Hermione asked.
"I'm alright," Ash replied with a reassuring smile. "Just a little bruise."
"May I see?" Hermione asked, holding her hands up towards his shirt. Ash didn't reply, but gave a nod. Hermione continued to grab his shirt and lift it up. She gasped at what she saw; the bruise, which was even more larger than before. "I can help with that, and the small cuts," Hermione said, dropping his shirt and began digging into her bag. She then pulled out a bottle of something and a small jar of something else.
"What's that?" Ash asked, taking a seat.
Hermione lifted the bottle first. "This is for your cuts," she said, pulling out the cork and a rag, pouring some clear liquid on the rag and handed it over to Ash. "Here, dab this over your cuts," she informed. Ash nodded and did as told. Hermione then opened the small jar, revealing some kind of orange cream. "And this is for your ribs. Lift up your shirt," she said, using her hand to scoop up some cream.
"Oh, I can do that," Ash insisted, dabbing his cuts.
"No, it's okay," Hermione replied, looking at Ash. "I'm happy to do it." Ash nodded, pulled off his jacket and hoodie, and lifted his long-sleeved shirt where the bruise was. Hermione reached over and touched his bruise with the cream.
Ash jumped a little. "Cold," he murmured. Hermione smiled a little and continued to smear the orange cream over his bruise. Ash sighed in relief, the pain instantly dissolving. "That feels better," he said. Hermione finished, and wiped her hands clean as Ash dropped his shirt.
"What were you doing in that house?" Hermione abruptly asked. "Excuse my intrusion, but if you hadn't been there, we may have been snake food."
"No, it's okay," Ash replied with a shake of his head. "That woman, that Bagshot lady. I bumped into her and I couldn't help feel that she was up to something, so I just followed her, and I guess that was the right thing to do." Hermione nodded. "And what about you? Why were you two there?"
"Well, to be honest," Hermione started, grabbing a piece of cloth, and dropping it in a bowl of water. "I can't really tell you. Not with Harry's permission really. But all I can say is that we had thought that Ms. Bagshot had something for us to help our cause against you-know-who."
"Er, who?" asked a puzzled Ash, putting his hoodie back on.
"You-know-who," Hermione repeated, placing the wet cloth on Harry's forehead.
"No, I'm sorry, I don't know who," Ash replied with a puzzled expression.
Hermione turned to him with alarmingly look. "You can't be serious, can you?" she said. Ash only stared back at the young girl, having no idea what to really say. He really didn't know who she was talking about, but apparently she expected him too. He might as well tell her the truth. "I'm sorry, I'm confused here," Hermione continued. "You don't know you-know...er...Tom Riddle?" Ash shook his head. "What about what's going on in the magical world?"
"Why? What's going on?" Ash asked, utterly confused, though it wasn't his fault. He had amnesia.
"The War Against V...Tom Riddle," Hermione answered, looking at Ash trying to figure if he was joking or something. "The Ministry of Magic run by evil Death Eaters, Hogwarts School run by Riddle's right hand?" Ash shook his head, having no idea what she was talking about. "Where have you been for the past year?" she asked in exasperation.
"I..." It was the moment of truth. Should he tell her the truth or come up with another lie. "I...don't know," he finally answered, standing up and walking to the center of the tent with his hands on his. Hermione curiously followed him.
"What do you mean?" she asked.
Ash dropped his hands to his side, sigh in exasperation, and turned towards the brown haired girl. "I don't remember anything until a couple of hours ago," he revealed to her.
"Are you saying that you have amnesia?" Hermione asked, walking up to Ash.
Ash nodded with a heavy sigh. "Yeah," he said, scratching his left forearm. "I woke up in an alley with bruises and pain. I don't remember what happened to me or how I got there," he explained, scratching his left forearm. "And why does my arm itch!"
"Here, let me," Hermione said, holding out her hands. Ash raised his left arm, turned it over, and watched as Hermione lifted his sleeves. She gasped in horror and took a few steps back. Ash stared down at his arm, at the black tattoo that was engraved on it. It was a skull with a snake flowing out of its mouth. And then something entered his mind, like a flash of some kind of memory.
He was kneeled down on a stone cold floor, shirtless, and in front of someone standing there in dark robes. "Give me your arm," it said with its wand raised. Ash raised his arm, and then, black energy soared from the black robed man and into Ash's left arm, who screamed out in pain. And when it was done, he was marked with the black tattoo.
And then he was back in reality. He blinked several times and looked towards Hermione who had her wand trained on him. He gulped. "I'm guessing this is something bad."
