"Aha!" said the voice, as Harry grabbed his glasses and fumbled until he found his wand. He was in the Gryffindor common room. A very young Sirius Black had shaken his shoulder. "And you kept saying they're only for reading!"
"Sirius!" he said loudly.
"Shut it, Jim!" he heard behind him. He turned around and noticed a boy who looked a bit like Neville scowl at him, then pull his face into his pillow and turn over.
"Seriously, Jim," came from a young Remus Lupin, lying down and just visible past Sirius. "This is early, even for you!"
With those words, Harry remembered what had to be going on. He desperately tried to recall what Hermione had told him about these situations. For one thing, if you try to read something more complex than a "Give Way" sign, you'll wake up for sure. You shouldn't do what he was doing, dwell on it being a dream, but he had no choice for the moment. So, okay, no reading. It felt like trying to hold a soap bubble in your hands, but he was going to try. What else? Keep it as simple as possible. So, maybe just Sirius and Remus?
"I planned on a run around the lake. Anyone up for it?" Harry asked. As he prepared to run, he saw Sirius staring as he transfigured running shoes out of an old pair of trainers. He paid it little mind, focusing on how to get the most information without disrupting the flow. It turned out, for some reason, both Remus and Sirius wanted to come along.
After their first lap, which had been quiet except for a few quips he'd tried to play along with, Harry struck. "I have ..." he got out, "A confession."
"You beat up Snivvy, we know," said Remus, sounding bored. "You nailed Evans?" asked Sirius. Apparently, the glare he got for that was not out of character for James.
"No," said Harry. "I've lost most of my memories. And I seem to have acquired something. Divination, being a Seer - I'm not sure." After a bit, he got out, " So, I'd like you to help me. I am going to minimize the issue, I want you two to cover for me. Don't tell Peter, I don't think he'd handle it well. Don't tell Evans, I'll do it in due time."
"Prongs, not funny," said Sirius.
"I know it's not. Do I keep a journal?" asked Harry. "Also, what am I normally good or bad at?"
At this, Remus looked worried, and Sirius said, "If you're sincere, you need to visit Cassie in the infirmary." Remus corrected him. "Cassie's gone, remember? This year Dumbles replaced her by moving Poppy Pomfrey up." Dumbledore had been feuding with the Black parents last year, and started acting mistrustfully to Cassie Black. One of Sirius's good relatives, she'd decided a Healer couldn't work under such conditions, they explained to Harry. Short of breath, it took them another lap to do it. Harry asked them to coach him until after lunch, then accompany him to the infirmary.
Breakfast was a quiet affair. Harry had a notebook and biro he found in James' night-stand. He asked his two friends who everyone was, and wrote their names and descriptions down. He carefully avoided reading back what he'd written. He told the two Marauders his condition had affected his reading. Go with the flow he remembered as Peter approached them. Apparently, he was still gutted over bodging up a Charms test. An anecdote about cheering Peter up in their sixth year that Sirius told him about suddenly sprang to mind.
"Cheer up, Pete," Harry said, jovially. If he could go with the flow and still get in a little nastiness for Wormtail, he would. "You didn't exactly bodge it up, certainly you can do better than a 71 1/2, but ..." he began, only to have the other three go silent.
"Is this the thing you were talking about, Jim?" Sirius began. Remus, however, cautioned him to silence. Unfortunately, Harry wasn't getting it. James and Sirius had teased Wormtail, because the test had more riding on it than Peter's fragile self-esteem. Apparently, a seventh-year named Rosmerta who was already working at the Three Broomsticks had agreed to go to Hogsmeade with Peter if he'd gotten at least 80 points. A pretty, but unassuming girl, she had no issue with the less flashy boys like Pettigrew, but didn't want him to be a slacker.
Nevertheless, they'd managed to coach Peter into a 90 on the next Charms quiz. And James had talked Rosmerta into giving Peter another chance. She wouldn't have listened to Sirius, who had a bad reputation among the Hogwarts girls. But this was before all that. In his clueless state, Harry asked, "What?"
"We get the tests back this morning, Jim," Remus explained. Oops.
Later, in Charms, they all stared at Peter's 71 1/2. They swore Peter to secrecy, at which Harry cringed internally, and he gave him a limited explanation of his condition, downplaying it quite a bit. As they were leaving Charms, Harry decided he needed to play along a bit more as Wormtail's friend. "Sorry, Pete. This was about Rosmerta, right?" he asked, which brought his friends to a halt. Peter was looking both embarrassed and angry, and Remus and Sirius were obviously baffled. Feeling he was in for a penny, Harry went in a pound. "Don't worry so much - I'll be able to talk her around, and if you truly study with us, you'll get 90 points next time."
"I hereby christen Sixth Year as "Potter's Year of Mystery," Sirius said. They all laughed, which broke the tension.
"You really think so?" Peter got out, quietly. Harry nodded.
Charms class had been a review with Harry having the test right in front of him, but Transfiguration - James' best subject - would be a problem. Harry was far more of a Charms person, anyway. "Prongs, let's step it up and get to Minnie early, and tell her about your memory," Remus suggested.
Harry had already noticed that their Marauder nicknames, and the title Marauders itself, were never used publically. James or Jim, Remus or Reem or Remo, Sirius, Siri. Peter or Pete. Lily Evans was always called Evans and she always called them by their last names. Even Remus, with whom she'd apparently shared prefect duties last year, and would again this year. The teachers were usually called by their last names, Snape was always Snivelus or Snivvy. McGonagall was Minnie, and Dumbledore was Dumbles. The Muggle Studies teacher, something of a bigot, wasn't pleased about not being called a professor by students who were overly polite to house-elves.
Harry decided there was no harm in guessing when he was in the year. It felt like the first day of classes, since Sirius hadn't known about Poppy Pomfrey. That was probably a good thing.
"Professor McGonagall," Remus got in before Sirius could queer the pitch. "James is going to have to go to the infirmary after lunch, but we wanted to tell you before class."
McGonagall looked concerned, but said nothing.
"I've been losing memory, basically," Harry said. "Particularly in Transfiguration. I'll have to work really hard to get it back, and it seems to come and go, but we didn't want you thinking I was skiving off or pulling a prank."
"That's dreadful news, Mr Potter," McGonagall said. "And yes, your reputation precedes you. Exactly how much has this affected you?"
"Think of a very average, perhaps even a bit lazy Transfiguration student sliding into Sixth Year Transfiguration in a mediocre fashion, but still getting an EE on his OWLs?" Harry decided to say. "But I will work hard to catch up. I just can't be an O+ whenever these ... memory lapses happen."
At that, Sirius and Remus were muttering to each other, something about "our projects are ruined." McGonagall agreed Remus and Sirius could quietly help Harry out in this class, provided he reported back after Poppy Pomfrey examined him.
Harry didn't have the nerve to tell her he couldn't read. Even if it was just Dream-McGonagall. He decided to bite the bullet when class started, let the effort wake him up, and hope he "returned" to this sort of dream sometime soon. He pledged to write the dream down when he woke up and ask Hermione all about it. She was already fascinated by the human mind, having an unusual specimen herself.
However ... "I can read!" Harry exclaimed, sitting up straight abruptly and turning to Remus with a huge smile. Walcott McLaggen nearly fell out of his seat laughing. Several of the girls in class giggled. "I can read!" he whispered to Sirius, who only looked quite concerned.
Harry was familiar enough with Hermione's notes that he was able to create a reasonable facsimile of their style and organization. He hung on every word McGonagall said, and the other students noticed Remus and Sirius sharing a desk with James, and him consulting them in whispers.
His wand felt wonky, his magic felt odd, and a bit weaker than he was used to. It reminded him of getting the basics of wandless magic over the last year. He put in more effort than usual, and got his usual casual results. He wasn't bad, not enough to stand out.
In Herbology, it turned out he was almost exactly as good as James, who was on his way to being a top student in every class. Fortunately, the subject hadn't changed in twenty years. Pomona Sprout was already the teacher. Harry scored a point James wouldn't have by remembering all the trivia Neville had gone on about concerning the Mimbulus mimbletonia. Ironically, very much like Ron in their time, the last time they'd been at the Three Broomsticks, Peter had sulked for half an hour because Rosmerta didn't laugh at his joke about the hag, the healer and the Mimbulus mimbletonia, so apparently, he had a bit of a complex about the plant. Harry had one he brought to and from Hogwarts, because their murmuring could help you sleep. The crooning noises they made when touched were a bit suggestive (leading to the aforementioned joke) and sudden movements toward them led to a Stinksap counterattack, but Harry had placed his in just the right place in class for them to hear its soothing murmuring in appreciation of the way the light fell on it.
I'm channeling my inner Hermione, Harry thought. And it works
His "Hermione Notes" for Charms, Transfiguration and Herbology raised Remus' eyebrows after he asked to see them. "Well, if we didn't know you were obsessed with Evans before, Prongs," he said quietly, "we'd know based on this alone. When you explain your problem to her, you should show her these."
Sirius just laughed.
Harry had held himself back from looking around, from taking in as many details as his mind could conjure up, but frankly, he was beginning to think nothing would wake him up. Perhaps that was what Andromeda's necklace did; it kept you dreaming. According to Hermione, dream sleep was the best sleep, and if you weren't sleeping enough to dream, you weren't sleeping enough, period.
"I'll go with that," Harry said. Remus assumed he meant the discussion with Evans, and said, "Well, I can see you take everything literally, but honestly? It couldn't hurt."
At lunch, Harry approached ... well, his mother. "Lil ..." he started to say, but her eye twitched slightly and he changed it to "Miss Evans, can I speak with you for a second?" Something about how tentative he was made the girl nod her head toward the seat opposite her.
Remus sat next to him, and Sirius at the end of the table. They didn't say a word.
"I just didn't want you to think I am pranking anyone," he began, so quietly she probably had to strain to hear him. "Umm, something has happened to me, and it's going to affect my schoolwork."
"Potter, why are you telling me?" she asked, archly.
"Umm? Why?" that was a stumper. It wasn't like he hadn't, according to Sirius and Remus, been chasing her for at least four years. "I guess - because you'll really notice, and I didn't want you thinking I'd suddenly become lazy or was disrespecting the classes."
"Assuming I believe you, what's the problem, Potter?"
"Well, I couldn't read for a while, but now it's just some loss of memories."
A hint of concern came over her features. "Memories?"
"Yes," Harry said. "These are my notes, it's how I remember things."
Lily looked a little angry. Apparently, the resemblance to her note-taking was profound. It smacked of James' obsession with her, which she'd clearly hoped he'd overcome.
"And you're copying me, why?"
"Because," Harry answered, never having raised his voice much above a whisper, "I don't remember how you take notes. I remember hardly anything about you. I didn't even know where I saw how to take notes. I'm struggling with my classes, and I'm struggling with my memory, and I'm not doing anything to make you angry with me."
Harry still didn't know how much time he'd have with this simulacrum of his mother, but he knew for sure fear of looking vulnerable wouldn't rob him of what he did have.
"Why haven't you gone to the infirmary?" Lily asked.
"I will, right after lunch," Harry replied. "I wanted Siri and Remus to coach me before I went. Things are not good here, Miss Evans. Not good at all. The Slytherins would love for one of us to be handicapped. They'd know just how to take advantage of that."
Harry could see Lily was about to reflexively defend them. She had, he decided, been indoctrinated in the "both sides are always to blame, and just as bad" myth by Dumbledore. It almost never started out that way, but tended to even out like that if a conflict went on for multiple generations. But that was all Harry would concede to the idea - really, it was suicidal idiocy.
But then, Lily slumped. Not only were the Slytherins every bit as bad as James, Sirius, Remus and Peter had been telling her, it was only by the grace of the savage beating of the worst ringleaders - which she had suspected the so-called Marauders of being involved with, to her great displeasure - that they weren't much, much worse. And Lily obviously knew it now.
"So," she continued, changing the subject, "then, these notes ..."
"They're what will enable me to at least resemble my performance last year, including when taking my OWLs." One of the few things he remembered about his father was his turn-around in Fifth Year, and tying with Lily Evans in scoring ten Os on his OWLs, with Lily having an O+ in Charms and Potions, and James an O+ in Transfiguration. According to Sirius, It was during Fourth Year that James decided to excel even in the classes where he was bored stiff.
To Lily's visible shock, Harry was able to explain the reasons for structuring the notes the way he did. He merely repeated what Hermione had taught him when helping him cram. Clearly, I am building Lily out of Hermione, a girl I am interested in. Not exactly healthy he thought. Come to think of it, if his wand was odd, if his magic was wrong, then he was in the same boat as Hermione, who had acknowledged Harry was noticeably more powerful than her. He would have to use ingenuity and elbow grease to make up for the lack.
"You said you don't remember anything about me?" Lily suddenly asked
"Not much," Harry dead-panned. "Let me think. Your conversation with Snape where you called him out on Mulciber. Umm, speaking of him, he dropped a branch on Petunia with magic, that helped estrange her from you ..."
Now Lily was genuinely upset. "I have talked about neither of those with you. Were you stalking us? Did you beat that out of him?"
Sirius intervened at that point. "Roll up your sleeves, Jim," he said. Harry saw that he had scars all along both arms. "Now lift up your shirt a bit." More scars covered his belly, up past his navel. "They go all the way up his chest. He has them on his legs, too," Sirius added.
"Evans, it's no good pretending Jim isn't in the right here," Remus said, earnestly. "With how close he came to killing Jim, he's extremely lucky to be alive."
"If it had been me, he would not be," Sirius said, giving Lily a very intense look. She looked uncomfortable.
"And no, that's not how James ... knows things," Remus said. Now he was looking uncomfortable. He beckoned Peter over, who sat next to Lily.
"Tell Miss Evans about the test, Peter, if you would be so kind," Remus requested.
"H-hi there," Peter stammered. "Well, it was ... it was weird. James was already acting really, really weird, and then he came out with my test score in Charms, before we'd even gone to class to get them. Then he knew I had a ... sort of bet going with Rosmerta, and I hadn't told anyone at all about that. Then ..."
"Wait," Lily interrupted. "He predicted your test score?" Peter nodded.
"Well," she mused, "he could have snuck into Flitwick's office - you're all good at that. And with whatever he uses to be invisible, and with a silencing charm, he could have eavesdropped on Rosmerta and Pettigrew."
Harry realised he couldn't really prove her wrong. It wasn't like he remembered a lot of events during his parents' sixth year. Wait. What had Kettleburn said in second year? This might or not be the year he lost a leg-and-a-half. In any event, it had been the first day of Care class for some years. Harry resolved to not only come early to Care today, but leave early and dash over to look over any Care classes he could this week. Had it already happened, Kettleburn would be in St Mungo's, and there would have been an announcement
"Are you still with us, Jim?" Remus asked, quietly.
"You've reminded me of something, Miss Evans," Harry said. "There's misfortune brewing for the Care of Magical Creatures teacher, and I am going to catch every class, even if it makes me late for my own, so thank you for reminding me."
A blonde-haired girl sitting next to Lily had leaned over until she could hear Harry a bit. She looked a bit embarrassed when Harry stared at her. Then she stared at her friend, as Lily introduced her as Alice Diggory.
"Oh my," she said, "I thought I, uh, overheard you saying you couldn't remember things. So it's true?" to which Harry nodded.
"Well," Alice said, "that's really awful. Were you ... cursed or something?"
"I don't think so," Harry said. "It doesn't feel like a curse. I've been cursed a lot."
Lily was in analytic mode all of a sudden. "Well, if that's so, then perhaps the effects have accumulated ..."
"I'm not sure, but I think it's ... it's a bit more unusual than that, Miss Evans," Harry said. "The memories being gone seem to go hand in hand with all the things I suddenly know for no reason."
"Tell me something about myself!" Alice exclaimed, excitedly.
"Umm, I have no idea what I should or shouldn't already know, Miss Diggory," Harry said, candidly. Then, sotto voce, he continued, "You're thinking of marrying Frank Longbottom, and if you have a boy, you are fond of the name Neville, Frank's mother Augusta doesn't approve of you ..."
Alice's face flushed. "Really, Frank Longbottom?" Lily asked her. Alice gave a tiny nod.
"You're becoming scary, Potter," Alice said, in a whisper.
"Welcome to Potter's Year of Mystery," Sirius said. His tone was both joking and sympathetic.
Harry had been eating steadily, and Remus and Sirius had wolfed down their food already. The after-lunch classes wouldn't start for a while, but Remus, Sirius and Harry told the girls and Peter it was time for them to take James to the infirmary.
"So ... Potter ..." Lily said, tentatively. "You forgot a lot about me, does that mean ..." Harry nodded.
"But I feel like my memories will come and go. And in the meantime, I will read my journal, and when my memories are around, I am sure I will go back to being as obsessed as ever. Right now, I am only concerned with my classes and not showing weakness to the Slytherins. In fact ..."
Lily looked puzzled, but her posture showed some anticipation.
"Can I study with you and Miss Diggory? It would really help. I'm kind of the weakest link right now, and the other three and Frank have a lot on their plate."
Lily looked at Harry suspiciously. Then her eyes met Alice's, and that girl nodded. "Alright," she said.
And with that, they left for the infirmary.
