Title: Whisper of a Dance Forgotten

Author: Warwithheaven

Rating: R

Warnings: AU, character death, torture (in past and is hinted at in this chapter), angst, language

Disclaimer: Not mine, nor will it ever be mine. All belong to Rowling and whoever else has there hands in it.

Author's Note: Sorry it has taken me so long to update. Life happened and I had to do a lot of editing but this chapter has still not been sent to my wonderful beta IGToW. I have reposted the Prologue and Chapters One and Two. It is really just a few grammatical errors and a few dialogue changes that I did. (I made Snape a bit more… well mean and sarcastic I suppose you could say.) Sorry for all of the mistakes in this chapter and I will try to get the next one up as soon as I possibly can!

Chapter Three: Whispers of a Memory

It was raining.

Harry sighed and pressed his forehead to the cool glass of the window, his warm breath causing it to fog. He hated weather like this for it always made him think to much about things that he would rather not think of.

"I thought you weren't supposed to be out of bed, Potter." A voice stated calmly from behind him. "You're going to reopen all of those wounds and then were would you be?"

Harry sighed and tightened his grip on the windowsill. "Where I should have been if Snape hadn't healed me." Harry growled slightly in the back of his throat. "What are you doing here anyway Malfoy?"

Malfoy shrugged even though Harry couldn't see him, and walked over to Harry, his black cloak billowing out behind him. So not to startle the other boy he moved slowly but still Harry tensed.

"I won't hurt you, Potter." Malfoy whispered as he watched the flashes of lightening in the distance. Harry blinked and looked blankly at Malfoy. When no answer was forthcoming from the other boy, Malfoy continued, "I think you need to sit down. I don't think walking around will help your wounds heal." Gently Malfoy took Harry by the arm and, without a whisper of protest, led him slowly back to his hospital bed. Harry's body trembled with each step he took and his breathing became shallow and erratic. "Honestly Potter, how did you make it over there in the first place?"

"I don't know." was Harry's simple response.

Malfoy sighed and gently rearranged Harry so that he was leaning more of his weight on him. When they made it over to the bed, Harry ungracefully fell onto the crisp white hospital sheets with a moan of pain. Malfoy shook his head and brought the blanket up to Harry's chest. He then sat on the fluffy green chair that Dumbledore had conjured earlier that day when he had visited, and stared at Harry with his perfectly shaped eyebrow raised.

Harry watched his flowing movements, somewhat confused, and asked, "Promise?"

Malfoy cocked his head to the side and said with a small smirk, "Promise."

Harry fell asleep under the watchful eye of Draco Malfoy but when he woke up the next day, Malfoy was no where to be seen.

Harry opened his eyes but quickly closed them as he was assaulted by bright sunlight. He heard a quick patter of footsteps and the swoosh of curtains being shut before he opened his eyes once more. Harry blinked several times so he could see clearly but then realized that his glasses were gone. Confused, Harry tried to remember what had happened and then he recalled the incident at the Three Broomsticks. Sitting up quickly, Harry asked, "Snape? Malfoy?"

"Sorry Mr. Potter, but they aren't here." A woman's voice called from his left.

"Madame Pomfrey?" Harry squinted his eyes so he could see more than the blurred outline of the woman who was walking towards him. When she was close enough she slipped glasses over his ears and up his nose and then reached for Harry's arm that was lying limply at his side.

Harry studied at the woman beside him. She was short and plump like Madame Pomfrey and had stern look on her face like Madame Pomfrey, but she wasn't Madame Pomfrey at all. Harry jerked his arm away and asked, "Who are you?"

"I'm Abigail Pomfrey, sister to 'Madame Pomfrey'." the woman said as she tried to grasp Harry's arm once more. Throwing the covers off, Harry rolled out of bed and moved across what he now noticed was the hospital wing in Hogwarts. "What are you doing! Where are you going, Potter!"

Harry opened the door that led out into the hallway, not looking back, and walked quickly and silently through the halls. He ignored the whispers of the paintings and didn't notice that he passed several students who stood in shock at the appearance of the Boy-Who-Lived.

'You're panicking Potter. Slow down. Breathe.' Harry's steps quickened. 'I'm at Hogwarts. I'm safe.' Harry thought to himself. He couldn't kill that little voice in his head that kept saying, 'Safe? You call this place safe! He killed here! This place is nothing more than a haven for corrupt people and horrible incidences.'

'I need out.' Harry thought to himself. 'Out out out out out.' He was wrong before; he couldn't handle this. Shaking, Harry traveled well-known paths to the front of the front of the school but he never made it.

"Potter, may I ask what you are doing out of the hospital wing." Harry stilled and looked to his left. Malfoy was standing there with his arms crossed and his nose slightly tilted up. Behind Malfoy stood a wizened Albus Dumbledore, who was watching Harry with a small smile.

"I'm sorry to ask this of you, Harry, but you have to."

"I have to? I don't have to do anything, Dumbledore, and a will not being doing that!"

"You have to. No one else will."

"NO! Sirius isn't a traitor!"

Harry eyes never strayed from the face of his old headmaster. Memories of blood and mangled bodies flashed through his mind like a sick Muggle horror film. "O Merlin, I'm so sorry." Harry whispered. Dumbledore's smile faded as Harry crumbled right in front of him. "I didn't mean… I didn't want…"

"Harry it's all right—" Dumbledore started but was cut off with a frantic yell.

"Dumbledore, Potter left the hospital wing!" Abigail Pomfrey shouted as she hurried as fast as she could down the stairs. Harry flinched at he voice and began to back away from everyone.

Malfoy, seeing that Harry was about to run for the hills, walked slowly towards the frightened man. With every step he took, Harry would twitch and take a step back.

"You promised! Do NOT get near me, Malfoy! YOU ARE HURTING ME!" Harry hysterically bellowed at the approaching blond.

"Potter, listen to me. We're getting out of here."

"Can't… my legs…"

"Don't complain, Scarhead."

"Shut up… you stupid Ferret."

Malfoy froze mid-step with one hand reaching out towards the man in front of him. "How am I hurting you, Potter?"

Harry fell to his knees and grasped his head in pain. "Stay away! Please just go away!"

"Hmmm, Mr. Potter! You're still alive and breathing I see! How utterly delightful!"

"Mr. Malfoy, your son has returned from Hogwarts. He comes bearing news of Dumbledore and the Order."

" I suppose we shall leave our play for another time Potter. Don't die while I'm away, Potter, or I might just have to amuse myself with your little Mudblood friend of yours."

"Stop! STOP!" Harry screamed as he fell to his knees. The paintings began to shake on the walls causing each of their subjects to flee in panic. Then the vases and the statues began exploding with their pieces seemingly flying directly at the other three occupants of the room.

"We need to sedate him! Get Severus and a Quiesco potion!" Dumbledore told Malfoy as he shielded them from the flying pieces of stone and porcelain.

Malfoy, with one last glance at the crumbling man in front of him, dashed down the hall and into the dungeons. He could still feel the vibrations of Harry's magic several stories underground and figured that Snape could as well.

He slid as he turned the last corner to the potions classroom were he knew Snape was teaching fifth year Hufflepuffs and slammed open the large wooden door. Startled, the Hufflepuffs screamed and Snape pulled out his wand and aimed it towards the intruder.

"Draco, what's—"

"Potter…Quiesco…magic…" Malfoy said inbetween breaths.

"Stop working on your potions and stay in the classroom." Snape growled at his class as he unlocked a cabinet with a wave of his wand and pulled out a purple vile. Without a second look at the class, he swept out of the room with amazing speed with Malfoy right on his heels.

They reached Harry not a minute later and found the corridor completely destroyed. Paintings were torn into pieces, states and vases were broken, and there were several holes in the wall where strong magical blasts had blown away at the stones. Dumbledore was standing close by with Abigail, a sad look marring his usually jovial face.

"Headmaster?" Snape asked.

Dumbledore nodded and Snape moved like a panther stalking its prey towards the fallen man. Shielding himself from most of the flying debris, Snape got within several feet before he was forced to his knees by the power that emanated from Harry.

"Do not… please…" Harry whispered hoarsely as his eyes caught hold of Snape's.

Growling, Snape crawled the last few feet and forcibly opened Harry's mouth so he could pour the potion down his throat. Harry swallowed enough that the outbursts of magic began to weaken and within a few minutes they disappeared entirely.

Exhausted, Harry stayed kneeling in front of Snape with his head down for several minutes before whispering, "Sorry."

There was silence fore a few moments. Not even Dumbledore dared to say anything that might cause more damage than what was already done.

"You will be fixing all that you have destroyed Potter." Snape growled as stood up and wiped his black robes clean.

Harry lifted his head up and frowned.

"Severus! He will be no such thing! He needs to return to the hospital wing at once!" Abigail said and before anything else could be said or done, Harry was on a stretcher and on his way back to the hospital wing.

"How about a few lemon drops before we start cleaning up?" Dumbledore said smiling slightly.

Harry was lying in his hospital bed surround by Dumbledore, Snape, Malfoy, McGonagall, and Abigail Pomfrey, while pretending to be asleep.

"It seems that Mr. Potter here has tried to inflict several memory charms on himself over the past several years. Most seemed to have failed completely while some didn't cover up all of a particular memory that he wanted to be gone. For some reason his magic seems to fighting off the memory charms like it is a disease and seems to have created an immunity to a few particular charms." Abigail said.

"Is that even possible?" Malfoy asked, his voice showing the doubt of the possibility of it actually happening.

"Well, there have been a few documented cases over the centuries that describe wizards and witches growing immune to certain spells. It is rare, yes, but it isn't impossible. For instance, in 1455 a witch in what is now France, was discovered to be immune to a spell which allowed her float to reach objects on bookshelves that she couldn't reach. In Canada in 1877 there was a wizard that was unable to cast any kind of eyesight charm on himself. Supposedly the charm worked well for the first few months and then its potency decreased with each use of the charm." Harry heard the turning of pages and then she continued, "There are several other cases but I won't bore you with the details."

"How many times have you calculated that Mr. Potter has used these charms?" Dumbledore asked.

"Well, when I did the initial scan I found close to three hundred but when I ran the scan several more times the numbers just kept increasing," Abligail sighed. "From the last scan, I found close to two thousand and most were cast within the last several years. It seems that Potter had to reapply them almost daily so he wouldn't remember."

"Idiot boy! Common sense was something he never possessed. He is improvident enough to succeed where the Dark Lord failed." Snape loudly snapped.

"Be quite Severus! Harry needs all the rest he can get." McGonagall hissed at Slytherin's Head of House.

Harry wanted to lash out at all of them at his point. 'It is my mind not yours! I can bloody well coat it with memory charms if I so please! It what has kept me kind of sane all of these years.' Harry thought.

"That explains why he seems to get all moody all of a sudden, doesn't it? Once the charm wears off he is suddenly reminded of all the things he wanted to forget about right? That was why he fainted in the Three Broomsticks and why he lost control of his magic?" Malfoy thought out loud.

"You are quite correct, Mr. Malfoy. And it seems that being confronted with certain people speeds up the process of the memory being uncovered, just like in the hallway when he was probably remembering his time with Lucius Malfoy." Dumbledore said.

No one but Harry noticed the soft sigh of sadness and disappointment that escaped Malfoy at that statement. Before Harry could evaluate way why that sadness bothered him, Abigail continued, "The question is what are we going to do about it? We can't let him suffer through all of that and possibly hurt himself and others around him."

Harry heard Dumbledore let out a defeated sigh. "We do nothing."

"Albus! There has to be something we can do!" McGonagall argued.

"There is nothing we can do. The memory charms are fading with time and reapplying them would only make things worse in the end. The dear boy has to deal with his past sometime and now is the best time to do it in." Dumbledore said.

"What do you mean now is the best time to do it in?" McGonagall asked. "If you're talking about those creatures that keep showing up and those disappearances then now is not a good time. The boy has enough on his plate as it is and I refuse for you to put more of a burden on Harry's shoulders."

"Harry will you do me a favor and hand me that quill over there."

"Sure thing Hermione."

"How come I am the one doing all of the research? You could at least look through one book."

"Mmph. I sorry, didn't I tell you? I can't read."

"That was the most idiotic thing you could have said. Don't worry, I won't burden your shoulders with anything else."

"Thanks!"

"Harry snap out of it!"

Harry groaned and clutched his cheek where he'd been slapped. "What the hell was that for?"

"That was for scaring the crap out of me! It felt like the bloody building was going to fall down!"

"Good Merlin, Malfoy! Stop your screeching! It hurts my ears." Harry tried to stuff his head under the pillow hoping to hide from Malfoy and the others in the room.

"For exactly how long have you been eavesdropping on our conversation, Potter? I see you haven't developed any sort of etiquette over the years either." Snape said as he positioned himself by Harry's bedside.

"It wasn't eavesdropping since you were in the same room I was, now was it?" Harry hissed while sitting up in bed.

"Please, gentlemen, stop your bantering. I will assure the both of you will have plenty of time for that later. Now we must discuss Harry's memory problems first." Dumbledore said. Harry glanced at Dumbledore and felt slightly guilty for the stress that he must have put on the older wizard now and in the past seven years.

"There is nothing to discuss, Dumbledore. What I did was in the past and you basically found out the reasons why I did it. End of story. The end." Harry pulled his legs over the side of the bed and stood up on his shaky legs. "Now I want to know why you sent me that letter and what that thing was on the train."

"All in good time, Harry. I will explain everything once everything is settled." Harry glowered at the smiling Dumbledore, not amused at all by the situation. "I want you to regain most of your memories and deal with them before we conti—"

"I will be resuming my use of the memory charms." Harry flatly stated as he gently pushed by the blond Slytherin.

"Absolutely not! You don't know what kind of damage that has done to your brain and what kind of damage could occur onc—"

"I understand, Pomfrey, but this is something I will not budge on."

"Very well then." Dumbledore said.

"Albus you can't be serious!" McGonagall exclaimed.

"He is an adult, Minerva, he can very well do as he pleases." Dumbledore said sadly.

"This is utterly ludicrous! The boy will become nothing more than a drooling puddle of flesh if he continues this." Snape said as he crossed his arms angrily.

"I didn't know you cared, Professor." Harry said, a small smile gracing his lips for the first time since this had started. Snape huffed and glared at the other man on the opposite side of the bed.

"Honestly, the both of you act like three year olds." Malfoy said from where he stood beside Harry.

"And you don't Mr. Malfoy?" Abigail said. Malfoy opened and closed his mouth a few times before he sneered at the woman. Abigail turned back to the Headmaster and said, "I would like to keep Potter here until later on tonight so I can run a few more tests but then after that he is free to go."

Dumbledore nodded, "All right. Whenever he is ready Malfoy and Snape can show him to his room, since he is just right down the hallway."

"What?"

"Don't get lost Potter. I am wasting enough time as it is by having to take you to your rooms." Snape snapped as he glided down the hallway, his black teachers robes flowing out behind him.

"You don't have to be so rude." Harry replied as he stuffed his hands inside of his pockets. The dungeons were just as Harry remembered them.

Dark, wet, and overflowing with Slytherins.

"Don't look so glum, Potter. You reapplied the charms and all those horrid memories are gone for the moment." Malfoy said. Harry turned his head and glared at the blond.

"Not all of them, or else I wouldn't remember anything at Hogwarts at all."

Before Malfoy could reply, Snape barked out, "We are here."

All three of them stopped in front of a portrait that looked out of place in the dark and gloomy dungeons. The painting was of a beautiful witch sitting on a windowsill looking out over the ocean before she turned and looked at the three men. Floor length brown hair flowed to the floor in curls and curious blue eyes studied each of them in turn before she asked, "Can I help you, sirs?"

"Crusaders." Snape said.

The woman's eyes widened and she quickly stood up. "Oh! Of course!" The painting swung open quickly and almost hit Harry but Malfoy pulled him back.

"This is your room Potter. Good night." And with that Snape walked down the hallway and faded into the shadows.

"My! He is quite rude, isn't he?" The women in the painting observed.

"Sirius, please, tell me you didn't kill him." Harry begged as he stood before his godfather.

"Kill who?" Sirius asked, a bewildered looked gracing his face.

"Weasly."

Sirius' laugh echoed strangely in the empty Great Hall. "Me? Kill Charlie? They've been putting crazy notions into your head again, Harry." Sirius reached out to wrap an arm around Harry's shoulder but Harry pulled away. "Harry?"

"I never said it was Charlie. No one but Dumbledore, Mrs. Weasly, and I know that he was killed." Harry pulled out is wand and pointed it at his godfather. "I trusted you and you killed him! Was killing Charlie your primary goal? Or was Snape and Malfoy?"

"All of them—"

"No!"

Harry woke up covered in sweat in the large canopy bed that took up most of the room.

"Shit."