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CHAPTER FIVE: Magical Revelation

Rose sat alone in the otherwise empty canteen, a hot drink in her hands. The other children had slipped into groups comforting each other elsewhere on the hospital grounds: Albus with Lily and Hugo, James with Martin and Emily. Her dad had done his best for her, like he always did, but even that hadn't been enough. She'd always felt closer to her parents than to her brother and cousins, which was perhaps why she'd had such a hard time handling their separation. The last summer was the first time she'd been close to her mother in over a year and now…

"Rose?"

She looked up in surprise at the voice and found herself face to face with Scorpius. Her…well, her boyfriend, she supposed, not that either of them had been comfortable enough to admit that. "What are you doing here?" she asked. "How did you know?"

"Your dad flooed my place. Said you might need a friend."

For a moment, Rose was surprised. Ron had never been entirely happy about her befriending a Malfoy. Then she remembered that he'd always known what to do to make her happy. "He was right,"she said quietly.

Scorpius sat down opposite her and took her hands. "I wish I could say something that could make it better."

"You being here makes it better." Rose shook her head. "I'm just scared that she won't ever remember me."

James came in and stopped a short distance away. Rose reflected that he was like her in a way. Being the oldest child in their respective families had caused them to distance themselves from the others, as a result of which they'd never really been close to anyone their own age until they'd met Scorpius and Emily, although at least James had always had Martin as his best friend. And, ironically, he'd always been a bit protective of her, maybe because there was no-one else who would be. But whereas she'd always been close to her parents, he'd always had a tempestuous relationship with his. Until Ginny died. She knew he regretted the fact they hadn't been close at the time. It made her relieved that she and Hermione were on good terms. Then she checked herself. Hermione wasn't dead. Whatever happened, she was better off than James.

"I just wanted to see if you were all right,"James explained.

Rose nodded. "I am now."

James looked at Scorpius and she knew that he understood. "I'll see you later then."

"What treatments can you offer?"Harry asked Manoharan as they walked through the corridors.

"In terms of improving patients' condition, I'm afraid there's nothing we can do,"Manoharan answered. "We can, of course, offer full care for those afflicted."

"Hermione doesn't need a carer,"Harry protested. "She's lost her memory, that doesn't mean she can't look after herself."

"She's lucky that you believe that. And, of course, she's lucky that her memory is still functioning normally. In some cases, the damage is permanent."

"Hey, you there!"a superior-sounding voice called out suddenly.

Harry turned to face the caller and looked in shock as he realised who it was. "Lockhart."

Gilderoy Lockhart, once Harry's Defence Against the Dark Arts teacher, came striding down the corridor towards him, an imperious look on his face. "You there! Young man. Do you know who I am?"

"Yes,"Harry answered.

"Good." Lockhart's expression suddenly changed to one of childlike puzzlement. "Could you tell me?"

One of the nurses appeared. "This way, Mr. Lockhart. You know you shouldn't be out of bed."

"What?" Lockhart allowed himself to be led away. "Yes, of course. I'm an important man, I need my rest."

"One of our most extreme cases,"Manoharan explained once Lockhart was out of earshot. "He's been here for nearly thirty years and we've never been able to do anything for him. We had hope a few months back…"

Harry turned to her, suddenly interested. "Why, what happened?"

"A research spellcaster, Harriet Kenwood, attempted to find a way to cure him. She claimed she was making some progress but then…"

"Where is she?"

"She's a patient here. We found her with her memory erased. Just like your wife."

Harry sensed there was more to the story but his thoughts were slipping back to Lockhart, the failed hero who had received adoration for taking the claim for others' successes, wiping their memories to prevent them contradicting him, and to what the last thirty years of his life had been. It was when Lockhart had tried to use one of his memory charms on Harry and Ron that it had backfired, erasing his memory. And with it, he'd lost everything: No adoring fans, no friends or family. Just a lonely hospital bed.

But Hermione wasn't like that. She had friends and family, people that loved her. People that loved the real her, not some fake image. And even if she never remembered that, never accepted him as friend or family, Harry was determined she was never going to end up like Lockhart.

Harry re-entered the room where Hermione was resting. "Hermione, I need to tell you something."

Hermione looked at him cautiously. "This sounds like bad news."

"Not bad news exactly. But it's something you might find…" – Harry struggled to find the least threatening word possible – "…confusing."

"I don't remember anything so I'm not sure what else could confuse me."

"You're a witch."

Hermione, as predicted, looked confused. "I…dance around a fire chanting?"

"No, you're an actual witch. You can do magic. There's a school, a special school, which teaches children to use magic, it's where we met. There are lots of families made up of witches and wizards but sometimes there's a child born to a non-magic family who can do magic. You were one, my mother was another."

Hermione shook her head. "You're making this up."

Harry took out his wand. There was a jug of water and an empty cup next to Hermione's bed. "Wingardium leviosa." The cup levitated in the air. Harry manoeuvred it round so it floated in front of Hermione.

Hermione stared at it in disbelief. "It's a trick."

"How? There's no wires or magnets. You can even take it."

Hermione reached out and grasped the cup, turning it over in her hand as if trying to work out another explanation. Finally, she looked at Harry. "It's true?"

Harry nodded. "Levitation Charm. One of the easiest spells. You want to try it?" Hermione nodded cautiously. Harry took out the wand he'd retrieved from the honeymoon cottage. "This is your wand. No-one really understands it except wandmakers but wands are loyal to their owners. You do your best magic with your own wand."

Hermione took the wand and pointed it at the cup. "Wingardium leviosa,"she stated. Nothing happened. "See, I can't do it."

"You can't do it because you believe you can't do it,"Harry insisted. "You were the first person in our class to master it!" He saw she was starting to look nervous and put his hand on hers. Then he realised that was too intimate a gesture and took it away again. "I'm sorry. Look, I think I can talk the healers into letting you come home with me. Would you be all right with that?"

Hermione thought for a moment, then nodded.