The sun was rising over the mountains and casting golden hues on the treetops surrounding the battle-worn school grounds. Harry could scarcely take it all in. He moved quickly across the courtyard covered in rubble and searched for a way out. He had no idea where he was or where to go, he only knew he needed space to think and steady his nerve. Perhaps if he returned to the place where he had first awoken there would be some clue as to why he was there and what happened to him.

Harry stopped on the open lawn and looked around. There was a lake, the forest, and a ragged garden with some sort of hut nearby. Everything looked abused by destructive forces. What happened here? he wondered. He felt he should know. He felt he was wrapped up in it all without knowing why. He just wanted answers!

"Harry?" A thin voice carried on a cool breeze.

Harry glanced back to see two forms advancing from the open doors of the massive castle. One was the bushy-haired girl who had hugged him first; the other was the red-headed bloke. He wracked his brain for any memory of the two and came up blank like everything else.

"Harry! Are you alright?" They moved alongside him with expressions of confusion and concern. One of them touched his arm which caused Harry to react, backing away from them toward the nearby lake shore.

"You're missing your own party, mate."

"Hush, Ron! Harry, no one blames you if you're not in the mood to celebrate. Things have calmed down now. Come inside and rest." The girl stepped forward before stopping abruptly in hurt amazement when Harry put up a hand between them and backed further away. "What's wrong?"

"Don't— Whoever you are, don't, please."

Ron looked offended by this. "What are you playing at? Don't talk like that to Hermione—"

"It's alright," Hermione interrupted him. "You're in shock, Harry. You've been through a lot."

"Have I?" Harry snapped while glancing around looking for an escape again. "What exactly have I been through?"

"You defeated Voldemort," Ron said while pointing back at the castle. "You were there, remember? It was two minutes ago. You saved my mum."

"You saved all of us," Hermione added. There were fresh tears in her eyes mixed with apprehension. Ron may not have understood Harry's odd behavior, but she was beginning to and it worried Hermione a great deal. "What happened in the forest? What did Voldemort do to you? He said you were dead."

"Voldemort?" Harry asked breathlessly. Didn't they get it? "I don't know who that is! I don't know your mum," he gestured to Ron. "I don't know you!" This time he included Hermione in his wave. "I don't even know who I am!"

"What?" Ron was baffled by this. "You're joking. He's joking!" He didn't seem to think that it was the time or the place for jests. "You've gone mental, that's what."

"Ron—"

"No, Fred is dead! All these people are dead, for him, and he's having a laugh."

"I'm not!" Harry argued. "I'm sorry, but I'm not. Whoever died, whoever Fred is—"

"Whoever Fred is?" Ron snapped and looked ready to hurt him before Hermione stepped in.

"Alright!" she ended it. "Go inside," she ordered Ron. "You should be with your family. Tell Ginny we found him. Go, Ron!" She insisted on his attention and cooperation.

"Right," he muttered with a dark look at Harry as he left.

Hermione waited until he was out of earshot before addressing Harry once again. "Tell me what you remember."

Harry shrugged and shook his head with exhaustion while trying to recall the timeline of events which had led him there. "I woke up in the forest. This man in a robe—"

"Voldemort."

"Yeah, I suppose. This Voldemort, he was there with some others."

"The Death Eaters."

"Right, sure." These names meant nothing to him in his stress. He didn't give himself time to discover if they held any significance. "They took me here. I wasn't dead, not ever." At least he didn't think so. "I don't know. I can't remember what happened before waking up. There was some light, I think? A voice…"

"A voice?" Hermione looked intrigued through her concern. "What did it sound like?"

"I don't know. Soothing, I guess."

"Wizard or witch?"

"What?"

"Male or female?" she clarified.

"Male," he answered with assurance for the first time. It was definitely a male.

"What did he say?"

Harry shook his head again. "I don't remember. It was in a bright place, but I can't remember what it looked like."

Hermione frowned while trying to understand what was happening to him. "Harry, this is bad. You can't remember anything? Nothing at all before the forest?"

"Just the light and the voice."

The fear in her eyes caused his panic to rise once again. This girl, this Hermione, covered in dust, scarred from battle, with so much compassion for his plight. She must have meant something to him. She must be important, but he didn't know why. He really wished he knew why.

"Alright," Hermione tried to think. "Right, well, there has to be a solution to this. Maybe Voldemort cast some sort of spell on you. Maybe an intensely strong obliviate spell. No, that would have worn off by now, wouldn't it?" She was talking to herself, and Harry didn't feel he should interrupt. "It would have ended once you killed him."

Killed him. Harry suddenly recalled what he had done. The thought made him feel sick, and he looked down at the pair of wands still in his hands before dropping them on the ground. The action caused Hermione to look up and cease her reasoning.

"Who, exactly, did I kill?" he asked carefully.

"The darkest wizard of all time."

Harry nodded without fully comprehending the enormity of this. "Am I…a wizard?"

"One of the best," she responded.

It was all so surreal. What was he supposed to say to that? "I need to go," he stated suddenly and turned around. He had seen a gate. That would be a way out.

"You can't!" Hermione stopped him desperately. "Harry, please. Where would you go? Everything you have is here. Please. Just wait until we can figure this out. There has to be a way, and here, here you have everyone who loves you."

"Yeah, but I don't know who they are!" Harry looked at her and the imposing castle behind her.

"But you will," she insisted. "Just stay for now, alright? For now."

It took him a moment to respond, but when he did, Harry nodded and gave in to her request and walked slowly back up the hill to the courtyard.

Hermione stooped down, picked up the pair of wands in the grass, and turned to follow.

Inside the castle foyer, noise from the Great Hall sounded muffled through the half-closed doors. Hermione looked in but motioned for Harry to stay put. "Maybe you should go upstairs and rest," she advised him.

Harry looked at the wide staircase. "Go where, exactly?"

"The common room," she responded before realizing what he was asking. "Oh, right. You don't remember that either?"

His expression encouraged her to assume that he knew nothing.

"I'll show you." She led the way up the stairs. "You do realize how strange this is for us, don't you?"

"I hadn't given it much thought." There hadn't been time with all the stress that came with not knowing who he was.

"Harry!"

They stopped and looked back as someone appeared in the doorway of the Hall. It was the redhead who had been kind enough to kiss Harry in the celebration earlier.

"Ginny," Hermione acknowledged her and turned back to head her off. "I told Ron to tell you—"

"That you found him, yeah I know. What's happened?"

"I'll explain when I get back. I'm going to take him to the common room."

"Why?" Ginny demanded with her gaze on Harry. She didn't know what was going on with him, but she didn't like it. "Are you alright? Ron said you were acting odd. You left your Invisibility Cloak." She held it out for him to take, but Harry did not move from where he stood several steps up with his hand on the banister.

"I'll explain later," Hermione repeated and took the cloak for him.

"Harry," Ginny pleaded for him to look at her. Ron was right; there was something very wrong with him. "It's alright now. Voldemort's gone."

Harry took the cloak as Hermione climbed the stairs and handed it to him. He dropped his gaze without replying and focused on the shimmering material slipping through his fingers. It made him invisible? That was useful.

"We need to go." Hermione pushed him along as others near the door of the Great Hall began to notice he was there. "Cover for us, Ginny," she instructed. "Give me some time, please?"

Ginny didn't seem thrilled with the request, but she backed off and turned to give an excuse for those wishing to congratulate the hero of the day.

"Put it on." Hermione indicated the cloak. "That way we won't get delayed."

They quickly made their way up numerous flights of stairs in the semi darkness. Torches sat cold and unlit in their brackets and very few windows allowed in sunlight from outside. Hermione stopped in front of a framed portrait of an enormous woman as Harry pulled the cloak free from his face. Much to his alarm, the painting instantly began to praise him for his results in the duel against Voldemort. Hermione quickly cut her off by shouting a password at the lady who abruptly sloshed half a glass of wine down her frills and lace.

The portrait swung open, and Hermione pulled Harry by the hand through the hole behind it. It was lighter in the common room, a warm, comforting glow which swirled in streams of dust mites and beamed across worn carpets. There was a lumpy sofa in the middle of the room which looked inviting.

"Sit." Hermione instructed.

Harry complied by sinking onto the cushions and dropping his weary head against the backrest. He watched with a sense of awe as she pulled out her wand and instantly started a fire in the cold grate beneath the mantle. The ease of her actions reminded him of the exciting charge he received while using a wand earlier that morning. Was he really a wizard? It made sense, he supposed. Those words, those spells he had so easily recalled, they had to come from somewhere.

"So, where are we?" he asked when Hermione turned away from the fireplace. "What is this place?" He gestured to the castle in general. He didn't know the right words to describe it, but it seemed like a stronghold of some fashion. Did all wizards and witches reside there to protect themselves from other evil wizards?

She sat down beside him on the sofa. "It's a school. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry."

Hogwarts. The title filled him with the same sense of hope as hearing his own name spoken to him. "Do I go here?"

"You did." She nodded and pulled her hair out of her face, tucking a strand behind her ear.

Harry studied her carefully. He wanted so much to find something familiar in her face. "Did you?" he asked.

"We started together, years ago." Hermione smiled fondly. "You, me, and Ron. Ginny too, a year after."

"Ginny…"

"Your girlfriend? The one who brought you the cloak…"

"Right." He got it now. "That would be why she kissed me."

"Yes." Hermione laughed. "That would be why."

They fell into awkward silence for a moment.

"I'm sorry," Harry apologized after a while. "I'm trying here."

"I know," she assured him before reaching for his hand and squeezing it tightly. "We'll figure this out, Harry. I promise. But—" she got to her feet, "right now you need to rest. Are you hungry? I can find you something from the kitchens. I should go and explain a few things to the others, but I'm sure Kreacher would be willing to bring you a sandwich."

"What's a creature?" Harry asked and immediately was surprised the sudden arrival of a small, wrinkled being with a snout for a nose. The crack of sound which announced the house elf's arrival caused Harry to yell in alarm and jump off the sofa before colliding into Hermione in his effort to place her between him and the elf.

"You called, Master Harry?" Kreacher asked with an awkward bow.

"It's okay," Hermione assured Harry. "They're really quite lovely when you get to know them."

"I'll bet," he muttered weakly.

"Kreacher, could you be so kind as to bring Harry something to eat? What is the state of the kitchens?"

"They are in full working order," Kreacher croaked with a stiff nod.

"Excellent, thank you. When you are able, please bring Harry a sandwich and some pumpkin juice. Is that alright?"

Kreacher bowed in Harry's direction once more and vanished with another crack.

"Are there more of those?" Harry asked once he was gone.

"Yes, many more." Hermione directed him back to the sofa again and prepared to leave the common room. "Sleep, Harry. I'll be back with Ron as soon as I can. I may stop at the library first. Hopefully most of the books are intact. There's got to be something in there that can give us a clue as to what happened to you." She stopped at the portrait hole and glanced back. "Sleep," she repeated. "Maybe that's all it would take to get your memory back."

Harry hoped she was right and had no trouble complying.

There was a great deal of hushed conversation going on in the room. It interrupted his deep sleep and caused Harry to startle awake. He had the disorienting sensation of having awoken with no memory again before images of Death Eaters, Voldemort with a wand, and headless snakes abruptly flashed before his mind's eye. He blinked and looked around. The common room was darker but the fire was still blazing. Several of the chairs were filled with figures deep in discussion around him. Harry glanced at several and discovered with a sinking feeling that he still did not know who they were. He quickly looked for Hermione and found her standing nearby talking to that girl Ginny. Your girlfriend, he reminded himself. It was a strange thought he didn't have time to dwell on. Both girls looked at him at the same moment and realized he was awake.

"Harry!" Hermione crossed the room with Ginny close behind. The entire group turned and looked at him, immediately jumping in to give their encouragement and well-wishes to Harry.

"How are you, son?" A wizard in disheveled robes reached for his hand for a vigorous shake.

"Take it easy, Arthur." A witch with a beaming smile moved in next. "Harry, dear, Hermione filled us in. I cannot hardly believe it. No memory at all?"

"Mum, let the man breathe," Ron muttered from his chair near the fire. He met Harry's eye without a smile before sharing a cautious glance with Hermione.

Each of the faces which sat before Harry had a look of weary despair mixed with relief. They all appeared to have been through a great ordeal and seemed merely to be resting before moving on to the next crisis.

"I imagine this is hard for you." Ron's mother sat beside Harry on the sofa. "We want you to know we are here for you, just as you've always been there for us. Whatever you need, dear, anything. Any questions you have, we will answer them until this is straightened out."

Harry sat up straight in his seat and darted glances at all of them. "Alright," he began. "Who are you?"

A young man with a missing ear, who was obviously another member of the same family, chuckled in his seat across from Ron. "You were right," he told his brother. "He has lost his marbles."

"Oh, George," their mother scolded. "This is no laughing matter."

"Nothing is now, mum," he responded with his head down.

They moved on from there to each re-introduce themselves to a long-time friend. They told him the stories of how they had met, what they had gone through in their fight against Voldemort, and broke the news that the Dark Lord had murdered his parents so many years before. It was a lot for Harry to take in all at once. There were moments where things they were saying had a ring of familiarity, like fresh déjá vu, which he would lose instantly as they doused him with a stream of more details.

"There has to be a solution to this," Hermione voiced at one point. "When I was researching removing the memory of me from my parents' minds, I also looked up how to reverse the spell. Wouldn't it work in this case also?"

"It's possible," Arthur agreed.

"Let's have it then!"

"Now hold on, Molly," he stopped his wife. "We don't know that it will work for certain. This is different. As far as we can tell, Harry hasn't had a spell put on him. It seems as if the effects of Voldemort's killing curse cause it. We could do a great deal of further damage if we are not careful."

"Then what?" Harry asked. "What do we do?"

"There are some potions and poultices that may have some effect," Arthur considered their options thoughtfully. "It will take some experimenting and a great deal of research."

"Which cannot be done tonight," Molly ascertained. "Arthur? Shall we go home or find beds here for the night?"

"I think home would be best. We can make arrangements for Fred tomorrow. Percy, will you be coming with?" He asked another one of his sons standing silently behind George's chair. Percy nodded and agreed to come. "Good! Harry, Hermione, you are welcome to join us also."

"Thank you, Mr. Weasley," Hermione nodded. "That would be nice."

Harry looked uneasy. He had begun to grow comfortable in the shelter of the common room. He wasn't sure if he liked the idea of going to some another new place to encounter more strange happenings.

"Come along, Harry," Molly encourage him as everyone got to their feet.

"It's alright." Hermione nodded when he looked to her. "We'll go to the Burrow. You've been there before, many times."

"It's home, Harry, my boy." Arthur clapped him on the shoulder. "A strong cuppa and one of Molly's biscuits, that's all you need."

"A bottle of firewiskey more like," Ron muttered.

"I'm with you on that," George agreed before they passed out of the portrait hole on their way out of the castle.

Harry didn't think he could experience anything worse than what he had gone through already that morning until he had to apparate. The whole twenty-second ordeal was enough to make him want to lose his memory all over again. Harry gripped tightly to Hermione's arm as she turned on the spot outside the Hogwart's gates and sped them spinning to a location far from the school. When they landed, Harry stumbled and withheld the urge to vomit.

"Are you alright?" Hermione held him upright.

"I'm fine," he murmured and took a steady breath before letting go and looking up at the Burrow standing like a crooked tree growing out of the marshy ground. "This is a house?"

"It's home to us." Ron stepped up beside them. "It was to you once too." He left them to follow his parents and siblings inside. Molly and Arthur used their wands to light lanterns and candles which quickly cast warm glows through the many windows.

Hermione passed Harry a reassuring smile. "He's still trying to adjust to this," she referred to Ron. "Just like you. Just like all of us. He lost one of his brothers last night. He didn't expect to lose his best friend too."

"I'm sorry."

"Don't be," she told him. "It's not your fault."

"Feels like it."

They nearly entered the house when Harry was stopped by Ginny taking his hand.

"Hold on," she told him and waited until Hermione had disappeared inside before leading him a few steps into the privacy of the garden.

An uneasiness slipped into Harry's stomach once again. His palm began to sweat, and he wished she would release it so he could tuck his hand safely away.

"I wanted a moment," Ginny began while leaning in to intimate levels of discomfort for Harry. "I wanted to tell you…well, last night I thought I would never see you again. With everything that's happened, that's the one thing I couldn't let myself think of. When I saw Hargid carrying you, when Voldemort said you were dead… Merlin, Harry, I thought that was the end. First Fred, then you. I couldn't take it. Whatever happened to you in the forest is not as terrible as the alternative. You'll get your memory back, I know it." With that, she slipped a cool hand on the back of his neck, drew him in and kissed him deeply. It was a kiss to stir emotions and encourage a flashback to their recent past.

It was a great kiss, but for Harry it did nothing but make him more nervous than he already was. Pulling away first, he disappointed her with his expression of distress. "I'm sorry," he said quickly. "I can't." It wasn't right. Whatever history they shared, whatever feelings Ginny had for him, he had just met her. He didn't feel comfortable with any of it.

Dropping her hand, Harry excused himself quickly and stepped inside.

Mrs. Weasley was a gracious host and she knew what Harry needed to make him feel at home. He was shown to the bathroom to freshen up with the promise that tea would be waiting when he was done. He was grateful for privacy and a place where he could think.

Standing under the spray of a hot shower, he ran through all of the information he had received about his past. Despite hearing that Voldemort had killed his parents along with almost every meaningful person in his life, Harry couldn't stop the nagging, gut-twisting feeling of guilt he carried for killing a man. Hermione and Mr. Weasley had tried to make him see that his actions with the wands simply allowed Voldemort's curse to rebound on himself. It was nice to hear, but didn't make Harry feel better. He couldn't get the sight of that skeletal, serpent face lying vacant on the floor out of his head. Less than twelve hours of recall and all his memories were plagued with horror.

Not all, he thought after toweling dry and facing his reflection in the mirror. There was Ginny's kiss, which was something even if he didn't know how to feel about it. Although she would probably never do it again after how he had reacted. Harry replaced his glasses and frowned at himself while examining the face he knew was his but felt was a stranger. He ran a hand through his damp, scruffy hair with a heavy sigh and tried to think positively.

There was the knowledge that there were so many standing by him. That was encouraging. They wanted to help him fix his memory as much as he did and seemed to have faith that they would be able to do it. Past or no past, he was grateful to have friends. Especially Hermione, who had been an even greater help and comfort from the start. If all witches were like her, he could see why he chose to live in the wizarding world. Perhaps chose wasn't the right word. Did he choose it or did his powers choose him? That was one of the many things that weren't clear with the rushed explanation he had been given about his history. He had so many more questions and no energy to ask them.

Hanging up his towel to dry, he dressed in the clean t-shirt and jeans Hermione had magically pulled from her amazing bag of tricks she carried around. He hadn't bothered asking how she came to have so many of his things inside of it, but he was grateful to her once again. When he had undressed for his shower, he also found a moleskin pouch hanging from his neck. It did not contain as many items as Hermione's bag, but it was surprisingly roomy for something so small. Everything inside appeared old, broken, and unusable. He had no idea what to do with them or why he had found the need to carry around a splintered wand.

"Add that to the questions for Hermione," he said to himself, replacing the moleskin around his neck and leaving the bathroom to join the others for tea.

Outside on the landing, the sound of voices carried up the stairs from the kitchen. Harry stopped and listened.

"It won't do him any good to know," Molly argued with whoever sat around the table listening. "Some memories are worth forgetting altogether."

"But they're his family, Molly," Arthur objected.

"And when will he ever see them again? When would he want to? A ruder bunch of Muggles, I've never heard of."

"Muggles or no, Harry has a right to know the sort of people who raised him. It's not you're decision or mine."

"He should know, Mum," George agreed with his father.

"Why, so he can meet them and receive more abuse from the dunce-head Dudley?" Ron backed his mother.

"They're adults now," Hermione put in her two cents. "Things are different."

"Right," Ron snorted sarcastically. "Very different. He knows nothing, Hermione. Why enlighten him?"

"Alright," Arthur ended the argument. "There's plenty of time to figure this out later. For now, let's just be supportive. Can we agree to that?"

Murmurs of agreement rippled around the table before Molly offered to pour out the tea.

Harry pulled the bathroom door closed with enough force as to warn them of his arrival on the stairs. Covering his frustration with a blank expression, he stepped into the kitchen and ignored the guilty faces staring back at him.

"Have a seat, Harry!" Molly said warmly. "Let me take those dirty clothes and wash them for you, dear. Time for tea everyone!"