AN: Hi everybody. Firstly I want to apologise for not updating this story over the past few weeks, unfortunately I broke my laptop keyboard. Specifically my spacebar which made writing almost impossible. Now it's fixed and I am back to writing which I have missed dearly!

-MP-

Chapter Twenty Four: Green Leather

Easter had quickly faded into May and the warmer months were soon approaching; Harry had spent the few days after Hermione's exploration of Minerva's memory reeling from the revelations it brought. The downside was even with the intensity of the experience, he didn't feel remotely closer to understanding what everything meant.

With each day that passed he couldn't shake the feeling of being stuck in a loop, as if he was trying to finish a puzzle without all of the pieces. He tried his best to fulfil his obligations at work and spend time with Ginny, but he struggled to stay fully in the moment with his mind constantly wandering off elsewhere.

Luckily, Ginny had taken a step back from court reporting, choosing to go part time and spend the rest of her contracted working hours covering Quidditch matches again which meant she spent more time away from home than before. Giving him a much needed reprieve from the tension that tugged between them.

Another weekend had rolled around and Harry had awoken on Saturday turning himself towards where his wife usually lay. He reached across and felt the empty space, the cold of the sheet below contrasted against his warm palm, he was glad that Ginny was pursuing what made her truly happy but he couldn't deny the longing an empty bed at night gave him. He couldn't help but wonder whether he had bestowed a similar feeling upon Ginny far too many times over the years.

He sighed heavily, thinking ahead to the first task of the day and that was to visit Minerva as he hadn't returned since he and Hermione had experimented with memory magic. Despite the slight apprehension in his stomach he was glad to be seeing her, needing to see her face now more than ever.

A short time after Harry had gotten up and ready for the day, using his wand to help him complete various tasks including a charm to wash his dishes, knowing that if he didn't Ginny would be furious with him. As he placed his last dish into the sink and waved the tip of his wand over the water, he smiled as he thought of Ginny. Her long red hair draped either side of her face, with her intense brown eyes burning into his and she told him off for his household laziness. Thinking to himself how much he couldn't wait to see her in the evening. Hoping that unlike his past behaviour, that she would indeed be home again.

-MP-

Harry made his way to Minerva's ward, pushing open the double doors to be greeted by the usual hustle and bustle of the ward's day. The patients engaging in different activities or striking up conversation with each other as a means to pass time.

He looked around, scanning the room for Minerva but didn't spot her straight away, causing his eyebrows to knit together the beginnings of concern. Amidst his search he came across Lockhart, currently distracted in the corner working with one of the medi-witches on his quill skills. Instantly Harry's brain thought back to Lockhart's comments about memory magic. What had he meant? Did he understand what he was saying fully?

Harry shook the nagging thoughts out of his mind and concentrated on locating Minerva, after casting his gaze hastily around the room until it met her bed he realised she wasn't in it. A half smile lifted lips knowing that she was probably up to something she really shouldn't be.

The Janus Thickey ward was largely one self-contained room, aside from the separate bath and shower facilities. However, there were several storage cupboards which were supposed to remain locked but that proved difficult when dealing with patients and their sometimes uncontrolled or unpredictable magic.

He walked around the room giving each of the storage cupboard doors a quick wiggle until he found one that was unlocked, he opened slowly to reveal a cupboard which contained medical supplies such as bandages and slings and in the corner stood one surprised looking witch!

Harry grinned instantly on the sight of Minerva hiding in the cupboard, her wand held delicately in her hand as she performed various transfiguration spells on the objects in the room.

"Harry!" She called in surprise, her eyes wide but unafraid.

He walked over and gently wrapped his fingers around her wand before sliding it out of her hand. "Hello Min." He beamed.

She smiled back and the pair exited the room and headed to the bed which she slept in, tucked away in the corner with a large array of books surrounding and placed upon every available surface.

As they both walked, Harry twirled Minerva's wand between his fingers. It was long, with a dark wood handle, rounded and sturdy with an amber gem twinkling at the end. The main length of her wand was much darker, almost black all the way to the elongated tip. It was beautiful, Harry thought, and he deeply missed the beautiful magic it had once helped its owner to produce.

Sadly, as Minerva climbed onto her bed, Harry locked the wand back away in Minerva's private storage before joining her as he jumped onto the end of the bed.

"How're you feeling?" He asked, surveying his former teacher carefully to assess her condition.

Minerva folded her arms tightly against herself. "If you must know, I am rather bored." She quipped, allowing some of her familiar Scottish brogue to coat her voice.

Harry's eyebrows rose in surprise. "Bored?" He questioned, as he bathed in the warmness of the voice he missed, the voice he hadn't truly heard in many months.

"Well these buffoons have anything fun under lock and key!" She huffed. "They're adamant we will just blow ourselves up at the nearest opportunity!"

He paused as he stared at Minerva, her confidence was much more familiar to him than any of her previous behaviour since she fell ill. "Min…" he said in a whispered voice, unsure on where to go next due to the confusion he was suddenly stuck with. That was until he laid his eyes on the green leather book on the nightstand, the photo album he had given to her the previous week.

"Did you get a chance to look at the book I gave you?"

This time it was Minerva's turn to fall into silence, she seemed tenser than she had in the previous moment. Pressing her back against the pillows behind her.

Harry's confusion deepened, perhaps he was pushing too hard. He reached out and gently placed his hand on her leg to reassure her. "Min?" He coaxed, by soaking his words in a soothing tone.

Her eyes darted up and met his, their startling green on full display. "Yes I did." She said simply.

"And?" Harry replied.

Minerva reached over and pulled the green book from the night stand and flipped it open to one of the pages, the page in particular was holding a photograph of herself and Albus Dumbledore. They appeared to be somewhere in the Scottish highlands, they twirled each other around in their arms as their smiles beamed towards the camera. Looking completely content and joyous in the moment, Harry watched them dance and twirl thinking fondly of the happiness they shared then and how unfair it seemed in their current situation.

"Who is this man?" She questioned sharply, her finger tapping against Dumbledore's face.

Harry kicked off his shoes and folded his legs to cross them on Minerva's bed, realising this was about to be a longer conversation than he had anticipated.

"That's Albus Dumbledore."

Minerva's eyes drifted down the book; he could see her eyes trailing the movement in the image.

"Do you remember?" He whispered, keeping the gentle tone to his words.

Her eyes immediately darted back to his. "No." She said adamantly, as she turned away from Harry's gaze.

"Min, it's okay if you don't remember. I'm not going to be angry, it's just that you seem a bit… I don't know… different?"

Her shoulders drooped down, perhaps in exasperation or defeat. Harry didn't know, but he knew in his heart he wanted to soothe whatever was causing her to be upset.

She pulled the book closer to where she sat, and her hands returned to exploring the page, letting her fingers trace the figures as they moved continually around the picture.

A long silence grew between them, Harry decided to remain quiet as he let Minerva ponder her thoughts. As they got to know each other better over the years, he discovered with a brilliance such as her's that sometimes it was better to let it work rather than to interrupt. He could appreciate that his previous memories didn't directly apply to whatever Minerva was going through now, but he did know how difficult it could be to process emotions you don't understand and that sometimes a person needs some room to breathe.

"I don't remember this picture." She added, finally breaking the quietness of their shared space.

He instinctively felt his hand squeeze her leg gently, empathetically. "That's alright."

She looked back up searching for his eyes, perhaps there was slight glistening in her own but she needed the comfort of Harry's before she continued.

"I've seen the man before… I think… that's all…" Her hands twirled in motion, as if she was physically trying to process her thoughts, her stammering words indicating the trouble she was having.

"When you and Hermione came to visit me and I fell asleep. I remember seeing that man… but it doesn't make any sense."

Harry's brows furrowed deeper, he was unsure whether Minerva would have been aware of the magic Hermione had performed let alone remember it clearly.

"What doesn't make sense?"

Her hands steepled together, her focus steadfast on Harry as she tried to describe further. "I saw him…. And Hermione… but they were…. They were running from something or chasing each other? I'm not sure."

"I'm sorry Min, I'm not sure I quite follow." His eyes kept wandering to the steepled position of Minerva's hands, it reminded him of Dumbledore and it struck him how much he missed him in this moment. He would understand the complicated situation he had found himself in, he would know what to do next and have already thought of the next ten steps he needed to take.

Minerva's expression hardened as she addressed Harry. "Please, don't think I'm crazy because what I am about to say, does in fact, sound crazy."

"I won't." Harry said resolutely. "I promise…" He gave Minerva a playful wink, easing some of the tension that was building during the conversation.

She nodded before she continued to speak. "I saw both Hermione and that man… Dumbledore in my head. I don't understand what you and Hermione did when you put me asleep but I do remember hearing all the screaming, there was shouting… and everything seemed to get darker and darker. I could hear a loud stamping sound over and over again but I couldn't tell where it was coming from. But then suddenly I heard more shouting, there were two voices and all of these lights but when they start to run…..that's when..."

Minerva exhaled, her shoulders falling down and her back arching forwards as if something weighed her down. "Then it goes black again, I remember nothing except I wake up here to lots of Medi-Witches and I still don't bloody know who I am."

Harry's eyes were as wide as saucers as he took all the information in, his mind attempting to process what Minerva had said alongside the brief notes that Hermione had given him.

"I told you it would sound crazy." She sighed, looking away from Harry completely.

Immediately Harry interrupted her thought in disagreement. "No.. no.. not at all Minerva. I'm just trying to make sense of what you said."

"Make sense?" She scoffed. "Don't be ridiculous, it's clearly something I've dreamt up with this broken brain of mine." As she finished her sentence she rapped her knuckles against her head as if to indicate its density.

"Now that is silly." Harry answered sarcastically, grabbing her hand and lowering it back down to her lap.

He pointed at the green leather book which was still open on the page with Minerva and Dumbledore's photograph.

"and you saw this man?" He asked, pointing to the image.

Minerva nodded. "Yes, he was shouting some of the time."

"Well that's…" Harry stopped himself, feeling distinctly unsure on how much he should reveal to Minerva.

"Well that's what?" She retorted instantly, her eyes burning with anger that was beginning to rise within her.

Was it anger at Harry, or her situation. She wasn't sure, but what she did know since her last visit from both Harry and Hermione was that a gnawing feeling of anger had risen it's ugly head one too many times, sometimes it almost felt like it was out of nowhere. Seizing her thoughts… squeezing her mind and pushing all of her other emotions out of the way.

"Minerva…" He said slowly, a serious expression forming on his features. "That man that you said you saw, that you heard speak… the very same man you are seen dancing with in that picture."

He tilted his head towards the photo album one last time.

"That man is dead."

Minerva gasped and pushed the book roughly away from herself. Words tumbling from her lips without her knowledge, as if the thoughts were falling out of her.

"What?" She countered, her shock evident from her every movement. "Brilliant. So now not only am I locked up in the Thickey ward for the rest of eternity, I am also losing my marbles. Just.. brilliant!" Minerva was exasperated, her arms gesturing upwards wildly.

"That…" Harry stated boldly. "Was not what I was going to say."

He had managed to catch her attention again, her stoic features of her high cheekbones and tight thin lips focused fully on the younger man before her.

"What were you going to say then? The dead man isn't really dead?"

Harry laughed. "Oh no, not that either." He shook his head lightly. "He's definitely dead, trust me."

Minerva's eyebrow arched as his reply, but he cast her aspersions aside with a brief comforting smile.

He lowered his voice so it was barely above a whisper and waved for Minerva to lean in closer to make sure she could hear him, he didn't want to risk anybody hearing what he was about to say next.

"What I do think however, is perhaps, your memory issue wasn't the result of suffering a bad bout of Dragon Pox but instead somebody was tampering with things they shouldn't."

The pair sat back and resumed their more natural seating positions. Minerva looked intrigued and full of questions, but clearly was holding herself back from what she really wanted to say. Taking in Harry's theory and processing it within her own mind.

"You think?" She asked, in an almost brave manner.

"I can't prove anything yet, but yes."

Minerva smiled, a rare sight for anyone to see but had been more than rare since her admission into hospital. Just the sight of it caused a bubbling feeling in Harry's stomach, desperate to hang on to it for as long as he could.

"But…" He emphasised. "I don't know for sure yet so it's best we don't get our hopes up."

She nodded in response. "I understand, Harry."

Harry relinquished his grip on her leg and he took the photo album back to look through the photographs. He might not remember them first hand but seeing them still gave him that warm feeling of nostalgia. He lingered on the ones that featured either Min or Albus, especially Albus, because most recently he missed him too. His wisdom, sensibility but most of all – his calm.

"Also, Min, it's best we keep this chat between ourselves for the time being."

Her eyes had wandered to the green book also, "Mhm.." she mumbled in response as Harry turned the page to reveal another photograph of Albus and Minerva, this time in France visiting Albus's old friend Nicholas Flamel.

Minerva cocked her head to get a better view of the picture, the corner of her lips tugging into an upwards expression.

"What?" Harry found himself questioning, amused at the antics of his former professor.

"Nothing." She bantered casually. "He's just a very handsome man."

Harry even though he was an adult and well into his thirties, he still decided to feign a disgusted expression and pretended to gag. Minerva shoved him playfully, before the pair descended into a shared laugh, a laugh that was genuine and bolshy the sound of which filled the room around them. Harry had been missing that most of all, and couldn't help but think of a time where he would be able to hear it everyday and not inside the walls of a hospital.

-MP-