Third Year, April 20th

Mia wandered into the library, careful to make as little noise as possible.

Uncle James had given her the Marauder's Map, but Claire had the Invisibility Cloak. People could still see her.

She just hoped Alex would be able to see her. He'd been disappearing lately. Saying he was going to study, but he wouldn't be anywhere she or Patrick could find him.

Mia tip-toed through the shelves in the library. If the librarian caught her, she'd have another detention. Which would mean eight detentions so far after Easter Break. It was only April 20th.

She found Alex half-asleep at the back of the library, surrounded by books, on the floor. He was leaning up against a shelf twenty feet tall, two feet away from the magically-propelled ladder that allowed students to get up to the top stacks of books. Mia'd caught Joseph Corner looking up her skirt when she'd used the ladder to reach the book on Polyjuice she'd needed. Unfortunately, it hadn't been for Potions class, which had earned her one of those eight detentions.

Mia had just been thankful she'd worn pretty knickers that day.

She crouched down next to Alex and shook his shoulder gently. His head flopped forward. Mia sighed, gave it up as a bad job, and sat down next to him. The title of the book in his lap caught her eye. "How to Remember the Un-Rememerable." She scoffed. That wasn't even a word. Then she looked even closer at the passage his hand slightly covered. Mia lifted his hand off the page.

"When attempting to remember things about people who have been very important in one's life, particularly parents, it is best to..."

Oh. The realization dawned on Mia. He was trying to remember his dad.

Sympathy for her best friend washed over her. Alex's dad had been killed in a convenience store shooting when he'd been only two. Except Mia had overheard her mum and Martha talking about what really had happened – he'd killed himself. Mia had never told Alex that.

But Alex had often told her that what he wished most was to remember him. Even though his mum, Martha, had married Mia's Uncle Fred four years ago, Alex wanted his dad, not a step-dad.

Mia ran a hand through Alex's hair, gently waking him up. For some reason, he always woke up when someone ran their hand through his hair. He loved that feeling, too. It calmed him down, made him relax, helped him fall asleep, and made him wake up when he was asleep.

Alex shifted slowly as his eyes fluttered open. "Wha-?"

"Hey," Mia said quietly.

"What time is it?" Alex yawned.

"After midnight."

Alex's head slumped back against the shelves. "Let's just sleep here, then."

Mia smiled to herself and leaned against the shelf next to him. "Whatcha reading?"

Alex scoffed, eyes still closed, body still slumped against the books. "Like you didn't look."

Mia was quiet for a few moments. "Did it work?"

Alex sighed and rubbed his eyes with his hands. "No. I couldn't remember anything." His face crumpled. "Why can't I remember anything?"

"I don't know." Mia shook her head. "I wish I could help."

Alex was silent for a few minutes. Mia could feel his body shaking as he tried to contain his sobs. Thirteen year old boys weren't supposed to cry. They were supposed to be strong, unfeeling, above everything that caused feelings.

Mia wrapped her arms around her best friend. "It's okay. Let it out."

Alex did. His tears began to soak Mia's shirt as she held him, rocked him like a baby, rubbed his back. She murmured, "It's okay, it's okay," over and over again, knowing that nothing she did, nothing she said, would make it okay.

Finally, Alex took three shuddering, heavy breaths and twisted slightly out of Mia's grasp, rubbing his eyes. "Sorry," he rasped.

"Don't be. What are best friends for?"

Alex attempted a grateful smile. It turned out more watery than anything else. "I just want to remember him. He was my dad. I should be able to remember. The only thing I do remember is Mum sobbing at his funeral. And a laugh. I don't even know if I'm making it up, but sometimes when I dream about him and mum, I hear this laugh. It's a man's laugh; it's loud and cheerful, verges on a Father Christmas kind of laugh."

Alex looked away from Mia, careful not to show her even more vulnerability. "I just wish I could hear him laugh."

Mia pulled him back into her so she could hug him. She had to hold him, try to make him feel just a little bit better. He let her hug him.

"One day," Mia murmured, "you'll figure out how to retrieve every memory anyone has ever had. You'll figure out how to get all the memories of your father back out of whatever deep crevasse of your brain they're hiding in."

"You promise?"

"I promise."

I want to say thank you sooo much to all the people who have reviewed this story! I appreciate so much. Please keep reviewing! It always makes my day.