The Epyliptical Charm
by Krista Jones
Chapter One; Delving into Deep Waters
Harry woke up in a house he didn't recognize, with a room he didn't remember and a picture of himself with a girl next to his bed whose face didn't quite register in his mind. He stared at it for a moment before vaguely realizing that he needed to get up and get dressed to check out his surroundings. He didn't have a clue about them. Sighing in frustration, he got out of the bed. Looking around, he realized that the house must be new. Everything looked like it had just been bought, or painted, and even the sheets smelled fresh. Getting dressed with the clothes he'd figured he must've left on the chair, he opened the door. Everything was clean and new. The walls were a fresh color of sky blue, and the ceiling white. Walking down the stairs, which were lined with old portraits of people Harry didn't recognize, he got to the first floor, and heard voices coming from another room. He entered the kitchen, which was painted a warm, honey color, and saw the source of the talking he'd heard. There was the girl from the picture, her hair pulled up, a gorgeous gold necklace with an 'H' charm hung from her neck, a beautiful, yet simple, diamond with a gold spun band was on her left ring finger, and she had an apron on, making breakfast, and there was another man sitting at the table speaking with her.
"Harry! How pleasant to see you!" the girl said excitedly, seeing him when he walked in. The man at the table stood up walking over to him and embraced him.
"Good to see you up and about, mate!" the man said enthusiastically. Harry took in all of their features like he had never before seen another human being. The man, about 6 feet tall, had tousled red hair and freckles with dancing blue eyes that seemed to light up at the sight of Harry. He was thin, but a little more muscled than Harry remembered.
"Wait, remember?" Harry thought idly. He didn't know this person, yet he seemed familiar. Turning to the girl, who was about 5 feet and 7 inches tall, had curly and frizzy brown hair and hazel eyes that also seemed to light up at the sight of Harry. Her figure was lithe and attractive, and she looked sort of cute in an apron. Harry felt a tinge of pink spread across his cheeks.
"Oh come now Harry, there's no need to be blushing," the girl said as she flipped a pancake in the pan. She was smiling warmly and most invitingly now, and Harry felt the urge to hug her.
"But I don't know her... Or him!" Harry thought, feeling distinctly odd. "Er, excuse me if I sound odd, but who are the two of you? You seem to know me very well, but I have no recollection of you," Harry said, finally. He felt a little better. But the girl's smile quickly faded to a hurt look of shock and sadness, and the man's face quickly fell into a frown.
"Harry, it's us. Ron and Hermione," the man said, his voice faltering slightly.
"Er, I'm sorry, but your names aren't ringing a bell. In fact, no one's names are really ringing a bell right now," Harry said softly, "Everything is just, melded together... Hazy in my mind." Harry watched Ron's face sag at this statement. He knew he had somehow hurt these two people. Especially the girl, whose face looked like he'd just broken her heart into a million pieces. Seeing this made Harry's face contort with an attempt to comfort her.
"It must be the after effects of the battle with Voldemort. After he killed him, the memory curse must have decreased in power so that he only felt a hazy recollection of his memories," the girl said, her face lifting a bit, "Maybe we should call Professor McGonagall?" she suggested hopefully.
"Yeah... Yeah, I think we should," Ron said. He left the room, leaving Harry and Hermione together awkwardly in the kitchen.
"You really don't remember me Harry?" Hermione asked. Her voice was thick with hope and sadness, and Harry couldn't help but lean in to comfort her. He placed a comforting hand on her shoulder, and tried to sound like a good friend.
"I'm really sorry, er, Hermione, but I don't remember anything at all right now. You all have me confused. Who is Voldemort, and why was I battling him? And did I really kill someone?" Harry spoke softly. His tone of voice caused Hermione's face to fall, and he immediately felt guilty. "I'm sorry..." he added again hurriedly, seeing her face fall.
"No, Harry, it's not your fault," Hermione replied wearily. "Yes, you battled Lord Voldemort. He was, er, a very evil person, and you were prophesized to be the only one who could kill him Harry. And you did. The problem was, just before he died, he'd sent a memory wiping curse at you. Except we don't think it worked very well, because you wouldn't even know who you are if it had hit you the way it was sent. We think when he died, a lot of his magic drained from the curse. Ron's gone to get parchment to send Professor McGonagall an owl to see what's wrong with you. You may have to go and visit St. Mungo's." Hermione put a weak smile on her face. Her pain was still rather evident, though she made efforts to hide it.
"I understand," Harry said, confidently, "But I have another question." he said, rather awkwardly.
"What is it?" Hermione asked softly.
"Were we close? I mean you and me? You seem pretty thrown aside that I can't remember you... And it really hurts me inside to see that look on your face every time you glance at me. Please tell me the truth," Harry asked. Hermione's eyes opened wide in shock. "It's a change from the heart broken look I've been getting..." Harry thought.
"Well..." Hermione began to reply, but Ron walked in the room with a quill and parchment, sitting down next to the two at the table.
"What were you two discussing?" Ron asked, while beginning to write to McGonagall.
"Harry was just asking about his battling Voldemort," Hermione replied smoothly. Ron recognized nothing that told him she may be hiding something from him, so he said, "Oh, okay," and kept writing. Harry however, looked at her questioningly for a moment over Ron's back, but said nothing. When he caught her glance, she looked away, and he could swear he saw a tear in her eye.
"Well, I'm going to send this to the Professor. I'll be right-" Ron began, but was interrupted.
"There will be no need for that, Mr. Weasley." a tall, older woman said, who seemed to have appeared out of nowhere.
"Oh, hello Professor," Hermione said, smiling.
"Hello Miss Granger," the woman said. Harry gathered that she must be Professor McGonagall, from the greeting she received and the way she spoke. "Mr. Potter?" she asked. Harry looked at her dumbfounded for a moment, then replied.
"Er, yes?" he felt stupid at the moment.
"Er, Professor, he seems to have lost his memory," Ron stated. "Here, you can read this, it's easier than telling you." he said, handing her the letter he'd written concerning Harry.
"Yes, I see..." she murmured."Well, you can go to St. Mungo's and get a potion that will restore you within two weeks, or you go and find out how long it will take for your memory to restore itself. Harry?" McGonagall stared at him sternly.
"Well, it doesn't appear that I have a choice, seeing as St. Mungo's seems to be the place to go..." Harry said. "I'll get going as soon as Hermione and Ron are ready." he replied honestly. "Gee that gaze is familiar..." he thought about the look he'd gotten from the Professor, who disappeared upon hearing his decision.
"Can you still apparate, Harry?" Ron asked.
"Er, I don't think so, not right now," Harry replied wearily.
"We'll take the floo network, Ron," Hermione said rather quickly.
"Can't you just hold him close and apparate him there like you did when I got hurt? It's faster!" Ron protested.
"No, Ron, Harry wouldn't like that very much..." Hermione started, but Harry cut her off.
"Oh, no, I know I've traveled that way before," he said, "But I don't remember who with..." Harry trailed off. Trying to remember, but failing, and his face fell into a light frown.
"Then it's settled," Ron said happily. "We'll leave when I get dressed properly, and when Harry combs his hair."
"Oh, it doesn't comb out, er, Ron... Aunt Petunia's tried several times, to no avail," he said, grimacing. He remembered not liking her, or his Uncle Vernon, and cousin Dudley. The Dursleys never were very kind to him.
"You remember your aunt?" Hermione asked curiously. She had an odd expression on her face.
"Yes, vaguely," Harry replied.
"He lived with the Dursleys for seventeen years, Hermione," Ron said gently, "Sure he'd remember them a little."
"I know," Hermione quietly.
"Are we going to leave soon?" Harry asked innocently, breaking the silence.
"Sure, mate, just lemme get dressed," Ron replied, smiling sheepishly. He turned to go to his room and change his clothes, and Hermione followed suit. Harry sat in the kitchen, waiting.