Lola remembered something. That was great. Cormac's reaction however, to the memory, wasn't so.
"What? How could you—" Cormac turned on the lights and paused from attacking her lips. "That—What did you remember?"
She blushed, her eyes casted down and fumbled with her fingers. "I remembered you, uhm, kissing me."
"Kissing you?" He sounded baffled.
She nodded. It was so awkward talking about it with him, even though she shouldn't be, being married and all.
"What did I look like?"
Her brows furrowed. "I saw a bright mop of hair, kissing me, downwards, down there…"
He looked shocked. "I did that?"
"Unless that wasn't you?" She looked back up to him.
"No, that wasn't me." He stood up and started pacing himself across the room. "Are you sure this is a memory?"
"Then what else would it be?"
He chuckled. "I don't know maybe a figment of your imagination?"
"Imagination?" Her brows knitted together. "I'd be imagining someone doing things to me down there?"
"Well sure, why not?"
"At this time? At this point? In my situation?"
"I mean it could be, yeah?" He huffed. "What else do you remember?"
"Nothing else, it was just for a moment and then when I opened my eyes, it was gone."
Cormac pivoted and resumed pacing. His face was of confusion and contempt, his fists closed and knuckles almost white. He looked as if he was trying hard not to burst out. But of what? "So that was it, you didn't remember anything else?"
She nodded again.
Pivot. Pacing.
"You alright? You don't seem to look too happy about this." She said as her head slightly shook.
Cormac stopped dead on his tracks and then looked at her. His eyebrows shot upwards and then said, "Of course I am, this is your memories coming back. Why wouldn't I be?"
It didn't seem too convincing especially when he was continued pacing around the room, his face deep in thought.
"If it wasn't you who, erm, did that…" Her cheeks started to warm up with the thought of her first recovered memory. "Then who could it…"
"I should ask you the very same question yourself. Then again you wouldn't know the answer too." He paused and looked at her again. "Do you?"
"I wouldn't be asking you if I did."
"Well then, I guess that's the end of that." His eyes went round and then said, "I almost forgot, I have to make you drink something." He opened the top shelf of the dresser and closed it again. He strode to her and sat beside her, taking whatever it was in his hand to hers. "I'd like you to drink this."
She opened her palm and found a small vial with blue liquid inside. "What is it?"
"It's your medicine, for your repressed memories. It'll help you get them back."
"This will give me back my memories?"
"I hope it will."
She looked up at him. "You're a doctor?"
"No, I get that from a real doctor. Now go on, I want to see you drink it, and then we can go to bed."
She held the vial with her thumb and index finger and smelled it. It was odorless. The color however, was a very deep shade of blue. She looked back at Cormac.
"Go on, drink it."
Lola drank and felt the liquid pass through her throat. It caused a burn that spread through her chest, she had to rub it, hoping it would make her feel better.
"There's my good girl. Now let's get you to bed, shall we?"
She lied down, the pillows almost drowning her head, hoping more memories would come back to her in her dreams.
"Good night Lola." He caressed her face and then left the room.
Progress. Great. Let's hope there's more tomorrow.
There was nothing.
It went on for several days. On the fourth day she woke up, she turned to face the roof and tried to regain a dream or a memory she could have recovered from her sleep. There was still nothing. She let out a sigh that blew her messy hair out of her face. The sun was intensely bright, the windows welcoming them openly inside the room. It must have been around noon. As she moved to the edge of the bed to get up, she saw the vial with blue liquid again with a note underneath it.
Lola,
Here's your dose for the day. Drink up! I'll be at work. Be home at 7.
C
"Oh." She said. She was wondering what he did for a living. He had stayed with her for days and nights, never leaving the house. It made her curious as to how he came to afford such a house when he didn't seem to work.
She held the vial in her palm and looked at it. "If you're supposed to make me remember, how come nothing's happened?" She said to it. She was very certain that what she saw that night was a memory, quite audacious, but a memory still. Surely it was a start of everything coming back to her.
Her feet felt for her slippers and stood up, the vial dug deep in her palm. She walked about the room to the window and opened it. The wind was warm and strong as it kissed her face. There was still nothing but their house in sight.
She had so many questions inside her head that needed answers and she bet her memories would have been bigger help. She opened her palm and looked at the vial again. Then she had an idea. What did she do that day that could have possibly triggered a memory? Only two things came to mind, one was kissing her, er, husband Cormac, and two was drinking the vial.
What if she kissed him again? He wasn't available at the moment. She also didn't want to seem to keep jumping on him for the wrong purpose. Most of all, she wasn't so certain if she wanted to do it again. It felt… odd.
Lola released the cork and paused. Surely missing one dosage would not be such a loss? She didn't drink it before she had the memory. What if it did the opposite and suppressed it? She had to try every possibility.
She turned the vial and let the liquid pour out, to the grass outside the window. She looked as the earth engulfed the liquid that was supposed to be for her. Not a single ounce of regret came to her.
"Right." She said to herself as she walked out of the bedroom. "What should I do today?"
Everything was illuminated from the night before, and she could see everything. The thing was, there wasn't a lot to see. There were no frames and very little ornaments, too dull for her taste. And this was supposed to be their house? It looked like they just moved in. The dust on the woodworks however said otherwise.
She made an audible sigh that echoed around the house. She was completely and utterly alone.
When she got downstairs she caught sight of the clock on the wall. It was a quarter to noon. Her feet led her to the kitchen and made herself brunch. The cupboards were filled with food and condiments, another sight that they've been there long. They must have thought it was more important to stack up the kitchen rather than any other room in the house. She made a small chuckle at how she could remember how to make scrambled eggs for breakfast when a few nights ago she can't even remember her name.
ooooo
Draco forgot the last time he went camping.
He assumed he was around thirteen or fourteen. His father said that they should camp out of the woods while they went hunting. Lucius figured it was a test of masculinity, the ability to hunt innocent prey and turn them into macabre decorations in the manor.
One thing he remembered so well was that he didn't like it. Not one bit.
First, because it was so far from the comforts of his own home, his own bed, his own fireplace, and most of all, his own bath, special mention on the shower.
Second, he didn't like incessantly hearing his father's arrogance. "Those insipid mudbloods use a so called gun when they hunt, it was said to fire a small metal bullet to their prey in a matter of seconds, depending on the distance. It's the closest thing they have to our magic. Well, they could try." He would say. "Go on Draco, put your wand to use. We don't spend galleons on you to slack on your magical skills."
Third, he didn't find the point of chasing over some small, furry or prancing animals. They meant nothing to him.
And now here he was, camping once again, this time on his own. He (still) didn't have the comforts and his father's arrogance, but he was chasing someone that meant to him.
Surely that was enough to stay in the woods.
He had built a little home-like tent in the middle of where the deluminator brought him next. It was in the middle of the woods again, this time not barren. He could hear rustles made by small, furry or prancing animals during the day. This time he let them live. At night, the cicadas and owls would lull him to sleep as the fire slowly stopped burning. He made a point to go through the woods during both times of day, just to see if there was something amiss. If the deluminator brought him here, surely she was around here somewhere.
He was hoping he wasn't looking for a corpse this time.
He would still hear her voice, of her still calling out his name. He would remember exactly when and what moment did her voice come from, that was a little game he played. That and it sucking and giving out light to his fire. Potter never mentioned that. He had to keep himself company, or else he'd go completely bonkers.
That night he heard a ringing sound that made him stop dead on eating his dinner. It was his Muggle phone, ringing. It was deep in his duffel bag, and he had to throw several, if not most, of his clothes before he got it and flipped it open.
"Hello?"
"Draco? It's me, Caroline."
"Oh. Why'd you call? Has she—"
"No, she hasn't." He heard an audible sigh. "I called because I wanted an update, you know, on her whereabouts."
"I'm on it, don't worry."
"Where are you finding her now? Shouldn't we start calling the police?"
He stepped out of his tent. "I'm in the middle of the woods, actually. And no, don't."
"The middle of the—how do you get reception then?"
"I'm… lucky I guess?"
"What network are you using?"
"I, I don't know. But never mind that. Caroline don't call the police alright? We're going to find her. I'm going to find her."
"Alright." He heard the bustle in the café. "It's just that it's been almost two weeks, you know? And I'm alone in the shop with his vapid, uncultured teenager—"
"I can hear you!" Someone shouted far from the phone.
"Oh just get back to work will you? I can say whatever I want about you because I pay you and I'm having an emotional crisis right now!" Caroline shouted, Draco had to move the phone a few inches away from his ear. "Oops, I yelled at your ear, didn't I?"
"A little." He replied. "She'll be alright, I promise. Just… don't tell the police and, er, keep the business going. She'd want her job when she gets back."
Caroline scoffed and sniffled. "Like I'd give her the job back, leaving without a two weeks' notice."
"It's not like she wanted to leave anyway, if that's any consolation." Draco looked at his shoes as it kicked several pebbles.
"Just get her home Draco, okay? Get her home breathing and in one piece or I will kill you myself." She warned.
"All right already don't lash out on me. I'll get her to contact you as soon as we find her, yeah?"
"Yeah, bye."
Draco closed the phone and went back to the tent. His dinner long forgotten, he cleaned it up and went to his bed. He took the deluminator out of his pocket and waited for her voice. She shouted his name this time, but not out of fear, but out of ecstasy. This made Draco chuckle. He knew exactly when that happened.
Another update! I got a little distracted by YouTube videos in the middle of writing so it took a little longer. Surely you can't hate me for that. Tell me what you think!