Chapter 9: Brogan


"Physically, he's fine," Avery was saying but Ginny was only half-listening. She felt numb inside. As though nothing could penetrate the deep reservoir of darkness inside of her – the sunlight was gone – as though someone had just turned it off. She'd been so elated – she'd found him! They'd succeeded! And now, now it was almost as though she wished they wouldn't have bothered. Having him lost in another dimension had to be less heartbreaking than this.

The way his eyes looked at them without really seeing them.

The way he'd pulled away from Harry.

The way he'd pulled away from her.

Before opening the portal, Ginny had foolishly thought it would be hard for them to be reunited and continue on as before. She realized she'd been an idiot worrying about it. Because really, in the end, all that mattered was getting Brogan back to where he belonged, and everything else would have just solved itself, eventually. But this…him not remembering them, this was genuine anguish. And she had no idea how they were going to cope.

Harry, of course, was assuming it was temporary. And maybe it was. Or maybe Ginny had just screwed something up so completely with the spell that Brogan was now broken. She was sure it was her fault. Didn't it have to be? Brogan and Harry both had trusted her to get it right, and she'd stupidly…arrogantly assumed she could pull it off with no issues. Oh, sure, little Ginny Weasley could open a bloody portal and get her lover back. Sure. No problem. Easy-peasy, wasn't it?

Ginny knew her current level of self-loathing was dangerously high, so she decided to push it down inside of her to get rid of it. It could just exist in that pit of darkness she had now. That sounded right. She tuned back into what Avery was saying. They'd contacted her and only her – they didn't want other people to arrive and confuse the issue. They hadn't even told Kath or let her see him. The other woman was downstairs, probably wondering what was going on as George was doing as well, judging by the perplexed look Ginny had caught from him. But right now, all that mattered to Harry and Ginny was Brogan's well-being, which was apparently fine if you just ignored the fact that he had absolutely no memory of the entire last year. He couldn't even remember meeting them. That was the most heartbreaking thing of all. They'd got him back physically but lost their lover and their friend in one double whammy.

"I've treated people with amnesia before, of course, but in those cases, it was due to a faulty memory spell, or there are even some potions that can cause temporary attacks of it. I have a fair understanding of mind-magic, but I think, if he doesn't start to remember things in about a week or so, we should contact a specialist from St Mungo's," Avery finished saying, her eyes somber.

"We don't want-"

"I know, Harry. I'll make sure the person is very discreet. You have my word. In fact, I'll start making inquiries as soon as I get back. And…with the confused state Brogan is in now, I…I can't believe I'm saying this, but I do not think you should tell Solace. At least, not yet."

"But he'll know," Ginny said, interrupting. "Harry told him what we were planning and when. He'll want to know what's happened. Everyone will want to know."

"Well, everyone can go to hell," Harry said stubbornly. "I don't want the herd descending on us, asking a million questions and scaring him off. His relationship with Solace, the way it used to be, at least, can't be good for Brogan to deal with on top of everything else. Think of it, Gin, Brogan doesn't know he made up with his father. He's going to lose it when we tell him."

"Let me deal with Solace, then," Avery said, nodding in agreement. "No, I won't tell him exactly what has occurred, because…well, I think we all know why." She paused, and the three of them exchanged awkward looks. Ginny could just imagine Solace's pleasure at realizing Brogan could remember everything but them and their relationship. He'd probably be elated.

"Sol will just have to stay out of it," Avery continued, sounding as though she'd convinced herself she could keep the elder Caley away from his son if she needed. She gazed at Harry and Ginny. "I recommend you two just talk to Brogan. Emotions are the key to memories. I'm not sure why he's blocked, but the fact that he knows who he is is actually a good sign. I'd be more worried if he didn't know who he was at all. Get him talking, remind him of the way it was with…the three of you. And then get him back to the Abbey. He seems almost desperate about it. If he feels safe and secure, which is what the Abbey represents to him, he might relax a bit. And that can only be a good thing when you're dealing with missing memories."

She finished by suggesting certain potions they could get to help Brogan access his lost year, and Harry started making a list, so they could ask Kath if she had them on hand. Ginny excused herself and knocked on the door to the bedroom, where they'd left Brogan. He'd wanted to be alone, but Harry had not wanted the other man to sulk by himself, and they'd compromised by sticking him in their bedroom for Avery's check-up.

She heard a muffled 'come in' and turned the knob. He was lying back on the bed, but Brogan sat up when he saw that it was her. She tried to ignore the stabbing pain in her heart with the complete lack of recognition on his face as he watched her.

"I thought you were the Healer coming back. Has she left?"

"She's about to," Ginny said, looking around for a place to sit. She decided to sit at the other end of the bed. She'd noticed Brogan seemed skittish if either she or Harry moved too close to him, for some reason, or tried to touch him. "She's giving us a list of potions you can take that might help you…with your memory."

Ginny tried to make her voice sound optimistic, but even she thought she sounded a bit accusatory. Brogan merely observed her in that guarded yet pointed way that she'd forgotten he had.

"You're the Heir, aren't you?"

Ginny started, almost hopping off the bed, the question seemingly coming out of nowhere. She'd not expected it, but she reckoned that for him – for the point of time he thought he was at, it made perfect sense. She met his eyes and nodded.

"I was. I mean, I still am, I suppose. But Aine…that's all been dealt with."

Brogan nodded, his eyes never leaving hers. Again, she had forgotten how intensely he could stare when he was trying to sense someone. "And me going into this portal you two pulled me out of, that was the answer, was it? That was my prophecy? That I had to…sacrifice myself?"

Ginny shook herself. She finally realized how many questions he must have; he couldn't even remember finally hearing his own prophecy. "We can go over everything that's happened if you want. But Harry didn't want to bombard you with too many things at once."

"Harry Potter."

Brogan said Harry's name as though trying it on for size. Ginny was unaccustomed to the dull, cold sound of his voice. Usually, whenever Brogan said either of their names, it was always infused with great affection and warmth. It was a tiny difference, she reckoned, but noticeable. Or maybe her heart was just tormenting her.

"Harry Potter is…is my friend and apparently in charge of my wellbeing?" Brogan muttered out loud to himself, shaking his head as though that was the strangest thing of all.

"He was…is…more than that. We both were, Brogan. You have to understand. It's been as difficult for us to come to terms with what's happened as much as it has been for you. We just want you to be okay and to remember the last year. So much has happened between the three of us, you…you have no idea."

He stared at her, his blue eyes full of questions. Ginny swallowed roughly as his eyes traveled over her – she tried not to flinch when the expression on his face didn't warm as she expected. Still, when he finally brought his gaze back to hers, she was unsurprised to see the dark blue dilation of his eyes. Apparently, he still thought she was attractive. That was something. She ran her hand through her hair and didn't miss the way his eyes followed her movements. Perhaps she could remind him. Sexual arousal was an emotion, wasn't it?

"I don't…I don't even know you. Or him. This is…this is maddening," he said, finally looking away. "And I don't believe you know me very well to even...it's just…impossible. No one could care that much about me."

"We do know you, though. You love black coffee. At any time of the day or night, you drink it like it's going out of style. You don't like sweets, but you'd walk across hot coals for some of Mrs McNamara's Barmbrack, which even influenced me to learn how to make it, by the way. You made sure we understood that we had to have it with tea. And you have a ticklish spot right below your ribs, on your left side. You're sensitive to soft voices in your ear and certain words when you're…." Ginny paused and cleared her throat awkwardly as she felt her face heat. She began again. "You have a charming singing voice, even though it embarrasses you, and you read to us sometimes, and we love it. You're very clever, and you're so very funny, so dry. You make us laugh a lot and often. And you hate to give speeches, and you loved your Mum so much. You've told us so many stories about her, Brogan. And you love red hair. You love my red hair, and you love Harry's eyes, and Merlin's beard! We just wanted you back! We missed you terribly….it was…losing you…it's been.…"

Ginny paused, suddenly feeling as though her emotions were pushing at her from all directions. She realized she'd leaned closer to him, and he'd pulled away as though frightened at her intensity. She reluctantly sat back and took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. She hadn't meant to say all that, and she hadn't meant to scare him. Ginny stared down at her hands as they sat awkwardly in her lap. She'd probably scarred him for life or something. How weird would it be to have someone list all the things they loved about you, and yet you couldn't even bloody remember them?

She became aware of his hand moving closer to hers a moment later and held her breath. He eventually reached out and took hold of it, and she was surprised by its warmth – he was so cold acting — she'd just assumed his hands would be as well. But as he squeezed her fingers, she felt the calmness he was giving her edge the anxiety back. She glanced up at him, and his eyes were still distant, but there was more understanding in them. But he pulled his hand back as quickly as he had offered it, and they didn't say anything for a long moment. Ginny wasn't sure they'd have spoken again if Harry hadn't knocked and opened the door just then.

"Everything all right?" Harry asked, coming into the room. Ginny noticed him rubbing his bracelet, so she assumed he'd felt her emotional avalanche a moment ago.

Ginny glanced at Brogan, who was studying Harry, his mouth set in a firm line.

"I got a bit emotional," Ginny said, pulling her eyes away and meeting Harry's gaze. "He, um…"

"He did his Brogan thing. I felt it," Harry said, nodding. He moved closer to them. The three of them looked at each other awkwardly, and Ginny felt out of sorts and held out her hand to Harry. Brogan watched them, his eyes landing on their joined hands. He looked between them, frowning.

"Go ahead and ask your questions, Brogan," Harry said softly. He used his wandless magic to transfigure one of the tables into a very familiar-looking sofa. Ginny immediately recognized it from her birthday and felt her skin heat, and if Brogan sensed her sudden change in mood, he did not indicate it.

Harry nodded at her and pulled her to him, settling back against the sofa. She nodded and rested her head on his shoulder, and they both looked at Brogan.

"How…how did you sense she needed you?" Brogan finally asked. "Are you…an Empath like me?"

Harry shook his head. "No, but you help us with that. But more about that later."

"She just proved you two know me pretty well," Brogan said, frowning.

"Did she?" Harry said, smirking at Ginny. He turned back to Brogan. "And how did that make you feel?"

"To be honest? Confused out of my mind. This is such…this is a complete brain-bash. You two are expecting me to have all this familiarity with you, and…before today, I'm pretty sure I've never laid eyes on either of you."

"It's a good thing for me that I don't feel that way. I didn't like you very much the first time I met you. You looked entirely too cool and handsome, and you flirted with Ginny rather shamelessly. I wanted to pummel you, actually. But I got over it."

Ginny could only marvel at Harry and his calmness. And his cheek.

Brogan blinked at Harry like an owl, confused. "Why didn't you then? I mean, if I did…if I was all those things. I mean, I've spent half of my life waiting to meet Aine's Heir, so I can imagine I was probably a cocky sort of git about it."

"Let's just say she convinced me I was acting like a prat," Harry said, nodding at Ginny. "She always loves to tell me when I do that."

Ginny snorted and gave him a fond smile. Brogan looked uncomfortable again and looked away.

"What is it, Brogan?" Ginny asked, trying to sense his emotions.

"It's just…unnerving. This whole thing is…you two are obviously very much a couple, so I, er, don't understand how you know me so well. I mean, we were friends, yeah, I get that we were, but…."

Ginny met Harry's eyes, and he shrugged, indicating that he was leaving the decision up to her. Brilliant. Ginny took a deep breath and looked at Brogan. Well, Avery had said emotions were connected to memories.

"The three of us grew very close, Brogan. First friends, and then, well, better friends, and then finally…." Ginny shrugged at him and tilted her head at him. He frowned, still looking confused and a bit skeptical. She decided to figure out if he could get any sense of his previous feelings for them.

"What do you feel when you look at me?" she asked, changing the conversation for a moment. "And be honest."

Brogan gazed at her again, his eyes traveling over her in that way he had, as though he could solve the mysteries of his missing memories by just drinking her in.

"You're…very…erm," Brogan glanced at Harry, who only nodded his head encouragingly. "I think, I'm not sure, but in another life, I could see myself fancying you. You're sort of…well, I have a type, I reckon."

Brogan's cheeks blushed, and he looked down, embarrassed. Ginny felt a bit of warmth in her heart. Maybe this could work.

"And when you look at Harry?"

Brogan raised his head sharply and shook it. "I, um, that is, I don't think of blokes that way. Sorry," he added as an afterthought to Harry.

Ginny glanced at Harry to gauge his reaction. If he was disappointed, he did not show it. She decided to challenge Brogan's response to see if he even had an inkling of what he'd felt.

"Oh, but you do think of Harry that way, Brogan. You really, really do. Quite enthusiastically, actually. In the early days, I got quite jealous of you myself."

Brogan's mouth fell open as though in shock. But instead of insisting she was wrong, he asked a more interesting question. Ginny thought it might be a good sign. "You were jealous of me? Come on."

"It's not outside the realm of possibility, you know. Honestly, your self-confidence is terrible, and I'd forgotten that," Ginny said, glancing at Harry, who nodded.

Brogan gave them a funny look, half-exasperation and half-disbelief. "You're telling me that you actually feared I'd…" he paused and gestured at Harry. "I just can't, that's just…what? You're mental. This is mental."

Ginny slid off the sofa and sat down next to Brogan on the bed. She bit her lip and leaned as close as she dared. She felt a minor success when his eyes fell to her lips, and a faint blush appeared on his face in response.

"It's not mental. You're very fit, you know, and we really like you. In fact, we love you. The both of us."

"This is insanity," Brogan said, his voice hoarse as he licked his lips.

Ginny stopped herself from kissing him – she just couldn't force the issue. She knew it, and she was pretty sure Harry knew it. Brogan had to remember or, at least, want what they wanted. Suddenly, Harry moved off the sofa and joined them, settling on the other side. He held up his hands to indicate he wasn't going to touch the other man, and for the first time, Ginny saw the pain in Harry's eyes, but it was only briefly. She realized he was using his Occlumency shields to keep his real feelings hidden. She wondered how torn up inside he was.

"You're important to us," Harry said now, his voice soft. "I never thought I would ever feel the way that I do about you, but I do. And we're not trying to alarm you or send you screaming into the hills, Brogan. We understand this is…this is pretty heavy stuff to learn. But if you feel anything familiar about us or even just about Ginny, then…that's a good sign. It means your memories are still there, somewhere. They're just hidden. And I can survive with hidden. Because it beats losing all hope that you can't remember how much you mean to us. How much you mean to me."

Brogan winced at Harry's words and abruptly stood up. He glanced at Ginny, an apology on his face.

"I need…I need to just…I'm going for a walk. Is that okay? It bloody well better be, no, don't…no."

He stepped away as Harry attempted to go with him and backed out of the room slowly, reminding Ginny of a caged animal, and she felt her heart break a bit. She took hold of Harry's hand, and they watched as Brogan left the room, clearly wanting to be as far away from them as he could be.


"Do you think I overdid it?" Harry asked Ginny, the silence between them finally getting to him. Ginny gave him a sympathetic look.

"I do think it was the both of us combined," she said, pulling him back down to the bed. She shifted, and Harry climbed in next to her. She wrapped her arms around him, and he felt comforted. But his heart was still shattering inside him.

"Harry, you love with all your heart, and that is one of the things I adore about you," Ginny said, squeezing him briefly. "But maybe, just…ease off the need to tell him how much he means to us. He's right. This is a brain-bash, and I can't even imagine what he's feeling right now."

Harry frowned as he looked down at his bracelet. Ever since they'd physically got Brogan back, Harry's sense of him felt muted. It was different from how it had felt before. Then it had been distance and time playing havoc with the link. Now everything just felt…off. He honestly had no clue how the other man was feeling, although judging by the look on his face as he'd left, it wasn't anything favorable. Harry sighed. He was happy they had succeeded, but his heart was full of pain.

"I suggest we do as Avery said and get him back to the Abbey. He'll know it and feel calmer, most likely," Harry said now. Ginny nodded.

"He'll take comfort there," she agreed. Silence filled the spaces between them again. Ginny eventually sat up and looked at him. "Should one of us go and find him?"

"Let him be," Harry said after thinking about it. "He…he's right. He needs to be alone, right now. It's what I would want, anyway."

"He can't sense us anymore, did you notice?" Ginny said after a moment.

Harry nodded. Yes, he had noticed. And he assumed that was why the link felt off between the three of them. What did it mean? Were the bracelets not connecting them? Had it destroyed their state of True Grace or whatever? Had Brogan's Empath abilities weakened?

"Or, I reckon," Ginny continued. "He could be but not sharing it. But I don't feel him the same way. How is it with your bracelet?"

"There's a sense, but it's muted and off. I felt more connected to him when he was stuck in another dimension."

Ginny frowned. "Have we royally screwed up, Harry? Have we made things worse? I feel…I feel as though I've just ruined everything."

"What? What do you mean? We did this together, Gin. You didn't do anything to cause this."

Ginny looked worried and bit her lip, not meeting his eye. "Maybe I did, though, Harry. Maybe I ruined something or didn't do something right or-"

"Listen to me. You did not cause this. And even if you had…we will not get bogged down in what haves and could haves, Gin. We have to move forward and fix it, not get stuck in the past. Right?"

"What if he can't ever remember us, though?" Ginny asked, her voice small. Harry lifted her chin so he could see her eyes.

"Then we make him fall in love with us all over again. We be his friend and support him and…."

"Harry, we can't make him fall in love with us. No one can do that."

"That's not really what I meant. I just…" Harry paused and sighed, feeling his sadness start to overwhelm him. Ginny's brown eyes were wide and dark – and he could see how much she needed him to be the positive one this time. "We are Harry Potter and Ginny Weasley, and we know that man – we know him very well. We just have to remind him what a catch we are."

Ginny shook her head but then made a half-snort sort of sound and her eyes filled with humor finally. Harry touched her cheek, and he leaned forward to kiss her.

"Don't blame yourself for something that we can't change. I won't stand for it."

She nodded, and he wasn't sure she'd heard him, but Harry let it drop. A weariness overtook him, and he suddenly wanted to do nothing but sleep.

"Nap?" Ginny asked, a knowing look on her face.

"Nap."

"What about-"

"He knows where the room is."

Ginny nodded, and Harry curled around her as they settled on the bed. Yes, they would have to trust that Brogan would still be there when they woke up. And that he willingly wanted to talk to them some more.


In the end, Brogan did not go far. He made his way to the McNamara's garden, which was behind the inn. He'd spent many happy times in the garden, whenever he'd visited in the past. Perhaps that is what drove him there now.

His heart was still thumping panicky in his chest; he could not, would not accept what Harry and Ginny were trying to tell him. He just couldn't. It flew into the face of everything he thought he knew about himself. And yet-

He could admit a particular fascination with Ginny Weasley- she was the Heir, after all. Hadn't he spent his whole life wondering about her? Even if she'd always been a nameless, faceless person. Hadn't he always thought they would be together, and now, it seemed they had been, and he'd missed it all. Typical. Brogan had never once considered himself lucky, and now he had proof. The universe had a seriously fecked-up sense of humor. He'd give it that.

But what about Harry Potter? He could sense no lie in the other man – no deception. And what would the point be anyway? Why would anyone lie about that? Had they all been together? They must have been. Because even without searching his failing memories, he could see the earnestness in the couple. He could sense the truth behind the words they hadn't actually come out and told him.

So what did it mean? If they had been together – if they had been as close as Ginny indicated, why was Brogan now wholly clueless? What was the point? He had to assume they'd all been happy if the feelings he'd been sensing empathically were any indication. Was this just another way for life to fuck him over? Or was it something else? Something to do with Aine, perhaps. They'd said he'd been taken care of by her, within the Well. They'd said the old witch had saved his life. But why? Why was he so special? Furthermore, why would Aine even care? He was the last descendant, which sort of implied he was it – end of the bloodline, end of the road, and end of the fucking empathic abilities. Finally.

A noise startled him, and he turned to tell Harry (or Ginny) to give him a fucking minute when the words died in his throat.

"Kath? Is that you?"

She gave him a tentative smile. "I thought I saw you go by the kitchen window. Oh, Brogan! They did it! They said they were going to, of course, but I didn't actually, oh, Merlin's pants, you're a sight for sore eyes!"

She ran to him and practically knocked him down with her enthusiasm. Brogan took a moment to hold her close to him, suddenly relishing in the fact that here was a face that looked familiar. Here was a person who knew him! Better than that, here was a person that he knew just as well.

He pulled back and looked at her – it'd been a while, and she had grown into a lovely lass. He'd always had a bit of crush on Kath.

She narrowed her eyes as he continued to stare at her. "What's wrong? Why are you looking at me as though you haven't seen me in years? I admit I'm amazed you're walking around down here. I can't believe Harry and Ginny left you out of their grasp! George and I thought we wouldn't see any of you for days!"

Brogan sighed and felt any lightness he'd just experienced drift away on the night air. He covered his face with his hands, and Kath immediately became concerned.

"What's wrong? Come here, sit down. You can tell me. Did…did the three of you have a row? I know Avery was here. She didn't find anything wrong with you, did she?"

Brogan lowered his hand as she led him to the table. He felt a lump form in his throat.

"So…even you know about the three…of us?"

Kath blinked at him in confusion. "Yeah. You told me about them yourself, you git. Brogan, what is going on?"

"I have no memory of…them," Brogan tilted his head back towards the inn. "I've never laid eyes on them before today."

Kath sat back, looking for all the world as though he'd just told her he was the Czar of Russian Wizards.

"But…you're you! I mean, you obviously know who I am, and you know who you are-"

"Apparently, I've blocked out the entire last year. Meeting them, going to Scotland, being friends with them and…." Brogan paused, shaking his head. He couldn't talk about their supposed relationship out loud. It was too inconceivable. He didn't meet Kath's eye as he continued. "I also helped defeat Voldemort, and I can't even remember doing it. Isn't that just brilliant?"

An expression of disbelief crossed Kath's features. It was then followed by what only Brogan could call a look of utter heartbreak. For him.

"No! You don't remember anything? Nothing at all? But…oh Merlin, Ginny must be crushed and poor Harry!" Kath suddenly looked aghast at the idea of the couple experiencing any pain. Brogan pursed his lips and didn't say anything, and he didn't need to, apparently as a moment later, Kath caught his eye.

"Of course, I feel for you too, Brogan. But you don't realize…when it happened, when they lost you, it was hard on all of us, of course, but Merlin's beard, they love you, Brogan, so much."

"So I've been told," Brogan said without thinking, not hiding his tone. Frankly, he was tired of hearing the same refrain. Mostly because he couldn't conceive of it. People didn't love him. Not really.

Kath took hold of his hand and squeezed it. "You probably don't want to hear this, but I have never seen you as happy as you were with them, and that is the truth. It helped soften the blow to my ego."

Brogan stared at her, not understanding what she meant. Kath shook her head and waved her hand as though it didn't matter. She released his hand and studied him.

"What are you going to do? Are you going to try to get the memories back or…can you even do that? What did Avery say?"

"Not much, really. I'm physically okay, and it's this that's broken." Brogan tapped his head and made a face. "I want to get back to the Abbey and just…be around people I know. Erm, well, I suppose it's been a year, and everyone has moved on, haven't they? Good God, this is maddening!"

"Kath?"

A male voice called out, and Brogan turned to see a stocky man with hair the same shade as Ginny's come into the garden. His face cleared when he saw them, and he gave Brogan a wide smile.

"Brogan Caley! As I live and breathe. Damn, I knew Ginny could pull it off. Mad power that one, always has been a wild card."

The man joined them at the table after clapping Brogan rather heartily on the back and sat down next to Kath, still smiling.

"George," Kath said, her voice cautious. Her eyes flicked at Brogan, and then she turned towards the other man, placing a hand on his chest. Oh, so it's like that, Brogan thought, picking up the thread of Kath's feelings.

"He doesn't remember the entire last year," Kath said now, softly. George blinked in between them, the smile running away from his face.

"What?"

"I don't know who you are, and I don't know who Harry and Ginny are," Brogan said, already hating the dead sound to his voice. He really needed to not be around people for a bit. It was getting too overwhelming, all the changes to what he thought he'd understood about his life.

"No, come on, mate, not…." George looked at Kath, who nodded her head with a somber motion. George gazed at Brogan. "Bloody hell, what an utter cock-up."

"That sums it up nicely," Brogan said dryly and then looked away.

"Erm, this is George Weasley, Ginny's brother. One of them. We're erm, well, he's been helping Da and me with the inn," Kath said after a moment. Brogan nodded his head and then stood up.

"Nice to meet you, uh, well, you know what I mean. Right, well, I think I'm going to go back to the room," Brogan muttered and stood up before either of them could stop him. George Weasley still looked as though he was in shock, and Kath just gave him a sad smile.

Brogan headed back towards the inn, thinking he might see if Torin still had whiskey flasks hidden around the place. He felt as though he'd need something stiff before even attempting another conversation with anyone else.


Harry realized it was pretty early when he awoke. Ginny stirred gently beside him and then was silent. He kissed the top of her head and then extricated himself, slipping quietly out of bed. Not only had they both fallen asleep in their clothes, but they'd seriously crashed out. Harry wandered into the en suite, and the lights flared into being, causing him to mutter nonsensically until his eyes got used to it. He reckoned that they had been pretty knackered, what with opening the portal and…everything after.

Thinking of Brogan and where he might have ended up, Harry quickly washed his face and brushed his teeth. Feeling slightly more awake and, therefore, more human, he slipped into the bedroom. Harry made for the sitting room, wondering if Brogan had asked for his own room. Harry briefly wondered if he could cast a Locator spell in theirs and see if it would still work in the regular Muggle part of the inn.

But he needn't have worried; Brogan was on the settee, long legs stretched out in front of him. Harry paused, taking him in, feeling his heart suddenly in his throat. Surely it was a good sign that Brogan had come back to them, right? He'd consciously decided to sleep on their settee and not find his own room. Harry tried not to get his hopes up.

"You can turn on a light if you want," Brogan's gruff voice startled him out of his reverie, and Harry jumped. A moment later, he heard Brogan snicker in amusement. A light flickered on, and Harry saw that Brogan had not been sleeping at all, judging from his disheveled appearance and bloodshot eyes. The other man looked like utter shite.

"You're pretty easy to startle for being The Boy Who Lived," Brogan deadpanned as he sat up, leaving Harry room to sit. After waiting for a beat, Harry sat down but made sure to keep his distance as a courtesy.

"Wait, they probably don't call you that anymore, do they?" Brogan asked, watching him. "Is it the Man Who Conquered the Dark Lord or some such thing now?"

"It's just Harry, and I've always been just Harry. At least, to anyone that mattered."

Brogan stared at him until finally looking away. Harry sighed and ran his hand through his hair, feeling nervous. He'd been in better control yesterday, and sleeping had dulled his Occlumency skills somewhat.

"I'm sorry I…I'm sorry I ran away earlier. That was…not great of me," Brogan said, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

"I can imagine it was overwhelming. I mean, it is overwhelming. Knowing you've lost a year of your life and…well, all the other stuff. We're sorry for our part in that, by the way. But Avery suggested we appeal to the emotional stuff first, to try to jar your memory."

Brogan nodded and didn't say anything, looking at the floor. Harry hummed and tapped his fingers on his leg in frustration. How could he not know how to speak to Brogan? When they had both shared so much?

"It's frustrating for you, I know. I feel it," Brogan said, voice soft. He glanced at Harry and looked away again. "I can…well, it's amazing how well I can sense you. It's bloody unnerving, really."

Harry felt a spring of hope bloom in his chest but took a deep breath to steady himself. "So…you can still feel us? We, I mean, Ginny, wondered if perhaps you couldn't anymore."

"I feel everything from everyone a million times," Brogan said, voice sounding low. "But I admit, it's…it's rather keen with you two."

"It's because of that," Harry said, nodding at Brogan's tattoo. He held up his hand so that Brogan could see his bracelet. "We don't know why yours is a tattoo now, by the way. But it was a bracelet like ours, and it helped to link the three of us. But we were connected pretty good by Aine before that."

Brogan stared at his wrist as though he hadn't noticed the tattoo, and Harry swore in his head. He'd managed to overwhelm him again.

"What…what are they?" Brogan finally asked. His voice sounded strained.

"They are called the Ophidian Armilla, and they helped us defeat Voldemort. Mine has green eyes, see?" Harry held out his bracelet, the emerald stone of the snake eyes glittering in the half-light of the room. Brogan leaned closer to him, and Harry got a whiff of that citrus scent he loved so much. He swallowed roughly.

"And Ginny's are chocolate brown, and yours was…sky blue. The bluest…blue…." Harry paused, glancing up into the eyes he remembered so well, not wanting to scare the other man into pulling away. They weren't touching or anything, and yet Harry felt drawn in. But then, of course, he did. This was a person he loved, a person he wanted to touch more than anything to welcome him home. Harry wanted nothing more than to put his lips against Brogan's and just…as though sensing his need, Brogan sat back, and the moment was broken.

Harry swallowed and did the same, pretending nothing had happened. He almost laughed out loud at his own foolish voice – nothing had happened. He was sure Brogan had absolutely no clue how sweaty Harry's palms were or how frantically his heart was beating. He pushed the feelings away and tried to get a grip on himself. Throwing himself at Brogan would probably not gain him any points at this stage.

"How do they, erm, work?" Brogan asked after a moment, a stillness in his voice that made Harry frown.

"Well, as far as we know, they give me – I'm the Master of them, extra power when I need it. That helped against Voldemort, as you can probably guess. But we all got something from it. Ginny can cast wandlessly, but only defensively. You can cast wandlessly too, if you need to." Brogan shifted at his words, looking shocked.

"Um, you also have to use my glasses, usually, but…your eyes are fine, aren't they?" Harry peered at Brogan, realizing the other man hadn't needed his glasses in the Well whenever they'd visited him.

"My eyes? They're fine. But you…you can see without your glasses because you're borrowing my ability to see?" Brogan sounded dumbfounded.

"That was how we assumed it was working," Harry shrugged. "Ginny also got a touch of your Empath ability. You got…well, we were calling it Weasley bravado because her family never lacks nerve. She also has a theory that you can fly better than you used to, but you never wanted us to test that."

Brogan had started to look a bit green at the idea of flying and calmed after Harry said the last part. The other man's eyes flickered with humor.

"I reckon you…know I don't like to fly all that much."

"It may have come up, once or twice," Harry said, unable to keep his grin from completely breaking out across his face. Brogan chuckled, and for a moment, it felt good between them, and Harry could almost pretend the last 24 hours hadn't happened the way they had.

Brogan sobered and nodded towards the bedroom. "How long have you two been a couple?"

Harry paused, unsure about the change in conversation but went with it. At least Brogan was showing interest in the past. That had to be a good sign, didn't it?

"A year or so. We were friends first, and we got together last summer. Erm, we're already bonded, by the way."

Brogan raised his eyebrow at that information. "You're both so young."

Harry shrugged. "Just the first bonding and…well, at the time, having a homicidal maniac on my back, it felt like an important step to take. I love that girl like breathing."

Brogan nodded as though he understood. "Um, I'm sorry, but..how did…how did I even enter into this? Into whatever it was between the three of us. This is what I can't wrap my head around, you know? I'm just…not that important."

Harry swore, which caused Brogan to look startled.

"First, stop that. We'd almost broken you of your habit of discounting yourself, and it's doing my head in to hear you revert to it. Secondly, it just…happened. I mean, okay, some circumstances led to us growing closer but…basically it went like this. You fancied Ginny, then you fancied me, which threw me for a loop at the time, by the way, but…Aine wanted us to be together, I think. In retrospect, I reckon it was always building towards something between us, but we didn't realize until…after. And it happened naturally, too. We didn't all just sit down, take our clothes off and decide. Well, we did, but not like you think."

Brogan had raised an eyebrow at him as he spoke and then shook his head when Harry was finished, clearly amused. Harry finally heard himself laugh, surprised at himself, and he smirked at Brogan.

"Love the way I tell a story?"

"Aye, that was…very insightful. Without really telling me anything."

"Meaningful and flowery speech will have to come from the redhead after she wakes up, I'm afraid," Harry said, musing to himself.

Brogan sighed and ran his hand through his hair, and Harry felt his heart catch at the familiar gesture.

"What's wrong?" Harry asked. "I mean, other than the obvious."

Brogan gave him a surprised glance and then shrugged. "Just…feeling a bit..out of sorts. I'd like to, well, no, it's silly."

"You'd like to take a hot bath, wouldn't you?" Harry asked knowingly.

The look on Brogan's face was pure comedy, and Harry couldn't resist grinning back at him. He wondered if Ginny was up yet and stood.

"Let me see if sleeping beauty is awake, and you can use the tub in the loo. It's amazing."

"No, don't wake her because of me. It can keep. I should get my own room." Brogan frowned to himself, and Harry felt him retreat into himself. He desperately wanted to keep the easy camaraderie that had started to blossom between them going; it had almost been as though the old Brogan was there.

"Nonsense, if the two of us get too much rest, we honestly don't know what to do with ourselves. And honestly, you should have had a proper cleaning as soon as we got back, but…let me just go and see if I can wake her. Why don't you order some coffee and tea to be sent up? Also, something to nosh. Ginny's probably famished." Harry hoped that the promise of fresh coffee would motivate Brogan to acquiesce. After a beat, Brogan nodded and looked around for the telephone. Harry glanced at his watch and hoped it wasn't too soon for the kitchen to be open. He felt as though he needed some coffee to fortify himself as well.


It was pretty amazing to Brogan how more like himself he felt just by taking a bath. He finished washing and then sighed as he lay back against the side of the huge, extremely comfortable bathtub. He'd once seen the tubs in the Nuala wing of the Abbey, and it reminded him of those tubs, albeit much smaller in scale.

He hadn't realized it with everything else going on, but he'd felt grimy. As though he hadn't had a proper bath in a year. He then figured that was probably close to the truth. He had no memory of existing in the Well, but he assumed it had been without some of the finer aspects of civilized life.

His mind turned to the two people that were just outside his door, probably tucking into the breakfast he'd ordered. Ginny had been more than willing to vacate the bedroom so he could enjoy the tub, and he had a feeling she enjoyed a good soak herself now and then. Suddenly Brogan had the strangest sense of déjà vu as he sat up in the tub. It was as though he'd just sort of remembered something without actually remembering what it was. Shaking his head, he finished up and then got out – his fingers were turning wrinkly. It had been a long bath.

He was unsurprised to see one of his shirts and clean clothes waiting on the bed for him. He had the idea that Harry and Ginny had many of his personal belongings, and he still couldn't quite come to terms with that and what it meant. Brogan knew he was not the sentimental type, at least, he hadn't been before (too much like his Mum, he supposed), but he also knew that whatever he'd had in his previous life, he would have bequeathed all of it to the people most dear to him. Apparently, that had been Harry and Ginny. Or perhaps Harry and he had just enjoyed sharing clothes since they were roughly the same body type.

After he was dressed, right down to his favorite pair of trainers, he felt a bit more able to approach the day and whatever it wanted to throw at him. Or he would, as soon as he got some of that coffee into him. He hoped they'd saved him some.

When he entered the sitting area, he found them on opposite ends of the settee, Ginny with a book, and Harry appeared to be going through some photos and putting them in a large blue album. Ginny smiled at him when she looked up, but her eyes soon drifted back down to whatever she was reading. Harry met his gaze and then tilted his head to the left, and Brogan noticed they'd set the food tray on the desk. He quickly made his way over to the gleaming silver of the carafe of coffee. He'd caught the smirk on Harry's face as the other man had watched him but didn't say anything.

Once he had a nice cup poured and had taken a small sip (The Wayfaring Stranger had a deliciously strong brew), he grabbed some eggs and toast from the tray and looked around, trying to figure out where to sit. The obvious choice was in between the two people on the settee, and he almost did it, but in the end, he sat in the chair on Ginny's side of the room and settled in. He set his plate of food on the small table next to him and closed his eyes as he took another drink of coffee. When he opened up his eyes again, Brogan was under the distinct impression they had both been watching him. Ginny's mouth was twitching in amusement, and Harry looked far too pleased about something. Brogan decided he didn't want to know and tucked into his breakfast. He ate much quicker than he usually would because he realized he was absolutely starving. He was on his second helping of everything when Harry cleared his throat, peering at him.

"I trust that second cup of coffee has kicked in, yeah? Feeling more like yourself?"

Brogan pursed his lips and almost didn't answer out of spite but then felt childish. He didn't miss the way Ginny's eyes seemed to laugh at him, either.

"Okay, you know my no-talking before the second cup, rule, I'll give you that. What did you want to talk about?"

Suddenly growing somber, the two shared a glance, and Ginny closed her book, setting it on the table. She bit her lip, which Brogan recognized as the guilty, nervous gesture it was. Again, that sense of not-quite remembering something came back to him.

"I discovered while you were taking a bath that I may have…inadvertently, of course, but…." Ginny glanced at Harry, biting her lip even harder. Harry nodded encouragingly at her to continue. She sighed and then gave Brogan what he could only call a blazing look, as though she thought he might start a row over what she was about to tell him.

"I botched it, Brogan. Don't listen to Harry say it was the both of us," she raised her hand as her partner opened his mouth to interrupt. She glared at the other man and then looked back at Brogan. "It was all me, this time. My utter cock-up of a mistake. I forgot the potion for Remembrance when we opened the portal. Furthermore, I'm afraid I misunderstood the purpose of it. I thought it was for us," she paused and pointed in between them. "And that we didn't need it. But it was for you. I left it behind the day we opened the portal, and I think…no, I know, that's why you're having memory problems. I'm so sorry, Brogan. I'm a total idiot. I owe you and Harry a huge apology."

Harry scooted over and tsked at her, wrapping his arm around her. Ginny hung her head, and Brogan thought she might cry, but when she lifted it back up a moment later to look at Harry, he saw that her eyes were remarkably dry. Brogan didn't know what to make of her confession. He hardly thought he was in a position to get angry – yes, he was upset he'd lost a year of his life, but she'd rescued him from a life of hanging around another plane of existence and given him his life (what there was of it) back. How could he be angry?

They both looked at him as though expecting some sort of reaction, and eventually, Brogan shrugged. He gazed at Ginny and saw that she was worried about his response.

"I…well, I don't know what to say. I mean, I feel that out of this whole thing, you two are the ones who got short-changed. You wanted the person that you loved back, and you got me, instead—someone who doesn't know either of you. But I'm here, alive and not stuck somewhere, so…I can't be too angry, Ginny. And if the other me, the one with all the memories, was here, then I am fairly sure he wouldn't want me to be."

Brogan took a deep breath. Talking about himself as though he were another person was decidedly odd, but that is precisely how it felt. He was himself, but he wasn't. Even he knew that. At first, Brogan had fought against any connection to the two people sitting opposite him, but now, a day and a half later and he knew the truth. It was clear they knew him and knew him very well indeed. It was also clear they had a strong affection for him, even. And he didn't know how to feel about that. He already knew he was attracted to Ginny on a primal, basic level. He was a man, and she was a lovely woman. What he didn't understand was the whole thing between him and Harry. He had never fancied a bloke before, and even though he didn't think there was anything wrong with it, he still couldn't quite see it. Or feel it. Not yet, if ever.

"Always so diplomatic," Harry murmured now, voice full of affection.

"We are going to work on getting your memories back, Brogan. I don't care what it takes," Ginny insisted. "Now that you're back, you can help me, even. This one is a lost cause."

Harry looked vaguely affronted but then nodded his head. "You two are the brains in this threesome, that is true. I'm just here for the good looks and not the good books."

Ginny snorted at him, and Brogan gave a slight smile, but he was sure they could tell his heart wasn't in it. Something Ginny had said was tugging at his consciousness….

"Do you have the potion now still? Do you think I could take it and see if it works?"

Ginny blinked at him in astonishment. "I..er, well, yeah, it's probably in our bag, somewhere, but…I'm not sure if it would work now. I mean, should you take it without talking to Avery or another Healer?"

"What's it going to do? Make me forget even more?" Brogan asked, suddenly warming to his idea. What if that was all there was to it?

Harry and Ginny exchanged a long look as though in silent communication with each other. He wondered if the couple did that a lot and if the him with all the memories had ever felt left out. Brogan marveled in surprise at how his old self hadn't gone around feeling like the proverbial third wheel all the time. He had studied his fair share of couples in his sad and lonely life, and Brogan could see Harry and Ginny were one of the closer, more intense ones. Or maybe that was just a case of the outsider looking in at something he had never felt. Or, he had, but now couldn't remember. He'd been a part of whatever it was they had or so they claimed. Brogan shook his head to chase away his thoughts. If he kept thinking about it, he was going to go crazy. He knew that.

"Let's head back to the Abbey later today and contact Avery from there? Before we do anything. Will that work?" Harry asked, watching him.

Brogan finally nodded in agreement. He supposed he shouldn't be in too much of a hurry to make his condition worse, after all.


Michael stopped at the café near the bookshop to get a cuppa to go and a bite to eat. It was brisk and cool this morning, as though Ireland hadn't just celebrated the Summer Solstice a few days prior. He gripped his to-go cup in his hand and wished he'd thrown a robe or jacket around his shoulder before he'd left his flat.

When he reached The Broken Quill, he was surprised to find it already unlocked. He knew Sean had returned from Lough Gur late the night before and hadn't expected the man to even make an appearance in the shop until later. He wondered briefly how it had gone and if Sean had even attempted to get the bracelets back.

Michael didn't understand the shopkeeper's insistence at owning the things again. But who was he to question things? Sean had never steered them wrong, as long as he had known him. If he wanted their group to concentrate on the Armilla, then that is what they would do. It was that simple.

There was a light on in the back, and Michael called out his greeting, setting his cup and bag of food on the counter. The shop didn't open up for another hour, but he liked to come in early and get organized, settle the bills and get the post ready if they had any. If he'd known Sean was going to be up and about, he would have brought another coffee.

When no noise or acknowledgment came from O'Brien, Michael put the post down and wandered towards the back office. When he entered the room, his mouth fell open. There were books and papers everywhere – more so than usual – which was saying something because Sean was one of those booksellers that never got rid of anything. Usually, the office was neat and orderly, but it looked like a cyclone had blown through it right now.

Sean was asleep in the chair, looking as ragged as Michael had ever seen him. He was torn between waking the other man up or letting him get rest. He decided that if he had fallen asleep in an uncomfortable chair, he'd want to be awakened as soon as possible. His neck hurt just thinking about it.

He leaned forward and touched Sean gently on the shoulder. There was the strong smell of something almond-like and…something…electric. That was the only way he could describe it – it was sharp and crisp, almost like a burnt match that had been struck briefly and then suddenly put out again. Michael shook his head, suddenly feeling light-headed.

Sean made an almost animal sound as he awoke, and for the briefest moment in time, Michael felt as though his world had tilted on its axis and everything blurred in front of him except the being that he thought was Sean O'Brien, but somehow suddenly wasn't. Michael's eyes watered and burned as Sean gazed back at him. But before his brain could make sense of what his eyes were telling him, Sean did a sweeping movement with his wand, and everything looked normal again. Michael immediately stepped back, removing his hand from the other man's shoulder.

"Michael," Sean said, his voice rough and low.

"Um, sorry, boss, you looked uncomfortable."

Sean ran a hand down his face and stared back at him with bloodshot eyes. But they were human eyes and not some weird creature's eyes. Michael wondered if the café had spiked his tea without telling him. Weird creature eyes. Where had that come from?

"What time is it?" Sean asked, sounding like himself again. He looked around his desk and started pulling papers together. Michael watched for a beat and then looked at his watch.

"Half-past 8."

"Dinner time or…?" Sean stopped what he was doing and blinked rather owlishly at Michael.

"What? No. It's the morning. Jeebus, what happened in Lough Gur? Have you been up since you left?"

Sean looked momentarily relieved and then frowned. "There was…a complication in Limerick. I've been researching it most of the night, I'm afraid." He gazed at Michael for a long moment as though not seeing him, his mind apparently elsewhere.

Michael released a deep breath, suddenly understanding. When something happened that Sean didn't understand, he often threw himself into research mode, sometimes forgetting what day it was while he read for hours and hours. This apparent mental break was nothing more than that.

"Well, whatever it is, I'm sure you'll suss it out in no time," Michael said, taking a drink from the cup that was still in his hand. He made a face, as it had already started to go cold, and he knew he'd have to warm it up with his wand in a few. When Sean still didn't say anything, he tried a different tack.

"A complication as in they were unable to get Caley back or something else?"

"No, they got him back," Sean said, voice sounding far away. "But his…his bracelet has done the oddest thing, Michael, and I don't know what it means. And that bothers me. It bothers me a lot. Come on. We have research to do. We won't be opening the shop today. Call who you need to."

Sean stood abruptly and moved past him, and Michael suddenly had a bad feeling about the rest of his day. There was nothing that aggravated yet motivated Sean O'Brien more than not knowing something. And he usually wouldn't rest until he'd found his answers.

o-o-o-o-o

Author's note: and the plot thickens… muahahaha also, sadness. :( Poor Brogan. Poor Harry & Ginny!