Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. I wish I did as does everybody else.

Summary: Harry is attacked in Private Drive. He wakes with no memory. The Dark Lord is very pleased with this new development. Will Harry ever get his memory back?

Chapter Two

Slowly Harry opened his eyes. He was lying on hard ground which he realized to be concrete. He had a horrible headache. One that felt like someone was hammering your head. Looking around, he could see a bare room.

Where am I? He thought.Thing's were blurry. He couldn't think too clearly. Come to think of it he couldn't even figure out who he was. All he knew was he was in a concrete room that had very little light and that his head hurt. Reaching up he gently touched where his head hurt. He winced as he touched a really tender area. Bringing his hand back down he looked at his hand. There was red sticky stud there. Blood. He thought.

The was a loud clicking and a door opened. Light bathed the room making his wince even more. It made his head pound more. Finally, after the people entered the room, and the door closed he opened his eyes to look at them.

He counted five people, all in black robes. One stepped closer and Harry got a better look at him. He looked monstrous. He had slits for eyes. Looking closer he could make out red eyes. The man sneered at him as he came closer.

"Well, well. What do we have here?" The man said mockingly.

"Who are you?" Was the only thing the boy could think to say.

"What do you mean, Brat?" The monstrous man said.

"Who are you?" The boy repeated. "What do you want?"

The man stepped closer. "What are you playing at!"

The boy didn't answer this time. The man stepped even closer and brought a skinny pale hand up forwards the boy's face. For a moment he thought he'd be hit, but the man grabbed his chin and looked at his face. A moment later he took his hand away.

"Crabbe! Clean him up, and figure this out. I want you to report to me when your finished!" The man said as he stalked out of the room.

The man whom Harry assumed to be Crabbe stepped closer and knelt down to Harry's level. Harry noticed everyone else left the room and the door again closed. He heard a clicking sound again and then the only sounds he could here were coming from the man in front of him.

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Two hours later Crabbe stood up and knocked on the door to be let out. He had spent the past two hours speaking with the boy and cleaning and healing his wounds.

Once the door opened he stalked out of the room and went to the main room of the house. It was a large, old mansion.

Entering the main room he could see the Dark Lord sitting at the table. The Dark Lord looked up as he entered.

"What were your findings, Crabbe?"

"I healed his injuries. I have spoken with him." Crabbe began.

"And what did he say." The Dark Lord asked, genuinely curious. "Why does he claim not to know who I am."

"I have spoken to him about that." Crabbe continued. "In my opinion he has amnesia."

"No memory? Of anything?" The Dark Lord asked shocked.

Crabbe nodded. "Yes. No memory of magic. No memory of where he grew up. No memory of his friends. No memory of anything. His first memory he can tell me of is waking up here."

The Dark Lord stayed quiet for a moment. He motioned for Crabbe to sit down at the table with him. After Crabbe sat down the Dark Lord finally voiced his thoughts.

"Do you believe he will get his memory back?"

"With the type of injury he sustained, I would say its possible either way. He may recover his memory and he may not. Only time can tell."

"If he did recover his memory, when?"

"Honestly, any time. It could be days, months, years, or never. Only time can tell." Crabbe answered honestly.

The Dark Lord again stayed quiet for a few moments.

"What if I trained him." The Dark Lord questioned.

"What do you mean, my Lord?"

"Trained his like us. Like my protégé?" The Dark Lord asked.

Crabbe thought a moment. It could work, so long as he didn't gain his memory back. "For now, as long as he did not get his memory back, I think it could work. He would still essentially be the same person, though. Same habits. Same traits. He just doesn't know anybody, or anything about himself."

"But it could work?" The Dark Lord asked.

Crabbe nodded. "I believe so, yes."

The Dark Lord again stayed quiet. After a moment he spoke again. "Set him up in a room. A comfortable room, mind. How often does his injury need to be examined?"

"For now I would like to check his injuries to make sure they are healing properly once a day at least. His apatite might not be very good for a while though."

"Why is this?" The Dark Lord asked.

"Well, two reasons. Because of his head injury, and because of the shock of not having a memory. Emotionally that has to be difficult to handle." Crabbe reasoned.

The Dark Lord nodded in understanding. "Would there be any other complications because of his head injury?"

"Dizziness, headaches, throwing up. Possible some weakness." Crabbe listed out. "All of this would last for about two weeks."

The Dark Lord again nodded. "Get him set into a room comfortable. Notify me when you are done."

Crabbe nodded and left the room.

Lord Voldemort sat there in his chair thinking of the latest developments. Now, I can train him as my own. I may not have to kill him. Maybe, I can get him to believing he is one of us, and always has been. Lord Voldemort smiled. This is better than I could have hopped for.

End Chapter Two.

A/N: I hope you all like the new chapter! I had fun witting it! Please Read and Review!

In this story Crabbe is a healer. He is certified.

Next Chapter: Harry wakes up.