a/n: I am VERY sorry that I'm so bad at keeping to my stories. I have oft-heard from my good friend, hence named Padfoot, that she forgets what my stories are even about by the time I get over myself and update them. (though maybe this isn't so reliable, as I have reason to doubt her memory skills to begin with ahemangstysnapeficahem) Shutting up.

Her arms moved up, down, round and round as she spun in the rays of light that bathed her mysteriously from the heavens above. Her dark brown hair rippled out behind her, whipping crazily about her head. Crazily, beautifully. Beautifully, crazily. Then the girl in the yellow dress tripped over a rock clumsily and fell, laughing before she hit the ground with a loud "Mmph!"

"See, dancing's not bad at all, Roy!" she called, laughing again, all the time laughing. The boy with the wavy blond hair and the forget-me-not blue eyes smiled shyly, and declined the cleverly hidden invitation.

"That was more twirling without control than dancing, besides," he said, smiling a bit. His cheeks felt hot. Why these feelings, these feelings now? He had known her five years. Five years! He was twelve, and he was feeling odd…

And now the boy was sixteen, and she was walking beside him, walking walking walking through the halls of the mansion, her hand in his so they didn't lose each other in the dark. Their excitement was tangible, the kind when you're doing something you shouldn't. They were almost to the place, and for the first time she would see what he thought…

The blond boy hit a cold, stone ground, and started to cry out, but stopped himself. It's cold, cold here, and the words were in his head, the words he spoke. And the boy felt fear, but something else too…he felt freedom, and loss. Loss and freedom. He knew he had to do something, something to get everything back…something to get her…

Elleyne stood by Gilderoy, watching his breath in his sleep, and she wondered what it was that he dreamed after all. She had come to work early, though not by much. All the same, Brodyn was pleased. Good, let him be.

Gilderoy twitched, and Elleyne looked down. He hadn't needed his sleeping draught for a while, supposedly because he had stopped having the dreams. But Elleyne had a strong suspicion that he had them anyway, and either wasn't disturbed by them, or didn't tell anyone.

Gilderoy's eyes snapped open, so suddenly that Elleyne jumped a bit. He seemed not to know where he was at first, sitting up, blinking, and then lying down again. Finally, he appeared to grasp his senses again, and noticed her there.

"Have you been dreaming again?" she asked.

"You remind me of someone…" Gilderoy murmured. She supposed he still wasn't completely conscious. She put a hand on his shoulder gently, and he seemed to see her anew.

"Oh yes, hello!" he said, smiling the slightest bit. Elleyne repeated her question.

"No, no. Well, yes…but…but they're very clear dreams, you know…Ad Loell, she once told me that dreams could be clear like that. But she doesn't understand how…personal they are. I think…Elleyne, you know what I think?" His voice was a confusing mass of excitement and apprehension.

"What do you think, Roy?" she asked, waiting patiently for him to come to.

"I think…I think they're memories, that's what I think!"

Elleyne wasn't expecting this.

"Yes!" Gilderoy said, louder than was necessary, thrusting his hands into the pockets of his rumpled lilac dressing gown and leaned forward with a crazy light in his blue eyes.

"Memories," he stated, seeming to enjoy the sound of the word.

Elleyne knew she should be doubting his mental stability, and part of her was; but the greater part of her wanted to know more.

"What have you been dreaming…or, remembering? Is there anything you know about yourself?"

Gilderoy became quiet, sort of subdued, even. "Yes, but there are so many things I don't know…it's not very clear."

"What do you know?" Elleyne's heart rate had sped up in spite of herself. She knew that she would believe him now, no matter how ridiculous anything he would say might sound. She found herself once again stepping out of her role as a Healer, and into the role of Elleyne Anderson, who was sincerely interested in the person in front of her. What Gilderoy had to share might be something no one had ever known; after all, all he had done during his time as a celebrity was lie.

Gilderoy's face took on an uncharacteristic shadow. "I remember him," he said, "And I wish I didn't. I don't really understand him, except that I was scared of him, and I still am." His voice had diminished to a whisper.

"Who is he?" Elleyne pressed gently.

"I don't know."

"Okay, okay…remember anything a bit more pleasant?"

A pause came, heavy and still. And then---

"I liked to paint, I remember that. No, actually I loved it. I liked to draw, too. First, actually. And then I started to paint. I was really young, and I wanted to be an artist. But I don't think I ever was…" He looked troubled.

Elleyne didn't question him any further.

"There was one more thing!" he said. "There was someone….someone who…I think that if I found her I could understand everything. All I can remember came back to me through dreams, and that's all I have. Nothing is…" He jerked his hand out of his pocket, and waved it in frustration.

"Nothing triggers anything else," Elleyne whispered.

"Yeah. Yeah, that." She could tell he didn't really understand what she meant, but she had caught a glimpse in her mind's eye of what it might be like to experience this phenomena, and she didn't need anyone to tell her how uneasy it could make someone feel.

"All these snatches of memory, and nothing to glue them together. Right, Roy?"

"Yes! Yes!" His mouth transformed from a frown to one of his prize-winning grins. Those grins were worth even a dip in her pay.

"You keep remembering to call me Roy."

"Yes, I do. I won't forget. Now, were you talking about someone who could help you with your memory?" Elleyne prompted, feeling a bit like a psychiatrist.

"Did I say that?" He was lost in thought for a moment. "Oh yes. There is someone, and…she…"

"She's a woman," Elleyne said helpfully.

"No, she's a girl."

"Well, she'll likely have grown up a bit…"

"She's the key to everything," Gilderoy said, falling back on his bed and staring at the ceiling. He seemed completely in awe of an invisible something in the air.

Elleyne was skeptical, but intrigued all the same.

"Do you remember her name?"

"No," Gilderoy breathed, still staring at the ceiling. "She had brown hair though. It was a good shade of brown."

"Roy…you're talking silly now. How can we possibly find someone if all we know about them is that they're a female with brown hair!"

Gilderoy sat up. "You're going to find her?"

"Well…I didn't say that."

But at the end of the day, Elleyne requested two days off. Brodyn was not amused.

"Why?"

"Family matters."

"What's the matter with your family, Anderson? You never talk about them."

"My mother is not feeling well," Elleyne said, using the darkest tone she could muster. Brodyn flinched back from her.

"Alright, alright. You can have a day…"

"Two."

"…."

"She's very ill."

"Fine, two," Brodyn snapped.

"Thank you," Elleyne said. She had some major research ahead of her.