Disclaimer: Like I said in the notes which one would assume you haven't read yet. I first saw this concept in a Star Trek episode.

Forgotten Atlantis

"Have you thought about using the room to fight Voldemort?" Hermione asked.

"What do you mean?" Harry replied.

"I mean, think about the room providing you with something that will help you."

"Couldn't hurt," Ron added his own two cents. "Let's try it." The trio went to the room and entered after making the necessary preparations. "What is it?"

"It looks like a box," Hermione said with a frown. "Open it Harry." Harry walked open to the box and began opening it.

"What's in it?"

"I see . . ."

IIIIIIIIII

"Wake up husband," a woman's voice said softly.

"Hwa . . ." Harry looked up to see a lovely girl of about his age regarding him with a serene gaze. "Husband?"

"Since this morning remember," she asked with a grin. "Get up."

"Where am I?" Harry looked around in confusion. "Who are you?"

"You're home husband," the woman said softly. "I'm your wife, Adrianne don't you remember?"

"I . . . don't remember," Harry gasped. "Where are Ron and Hermione?"

"I don't know those names husband," she said. "Who are they?"

"They're my friends at Hogwarts," Harry explained.

"I don't know any Hogwarts either," she said with growing concern. "Rest husband, I shall return soon."

"What's happening?" Harry muttered to himself. The woman returned a few minutes later with an older man.

"How are you feeling?" The old man asked. "Does your head hurt?"

"I'm feeling confused," Harry replied. "The last thing I remember, I was at Hogwarts with Ron and Hermione."

"It's just like I told you," Adrianne said. "He doesn't remember anything."

"And there have been no blows to the head?" The old man said. "Odd . . . perhaps . . . hmmm. Well, I see no damage that could explain the loss of memory. Perhaps he had an odd reaction to something he ate or maybe it was all brought on by stress."

"So he's going to be ok?"

"He should be," the old man agreed. "Stay with your husband Adrianne, make sure he knows how much you love him, and tell him about his life. We can only hope that his memory will return in time."

"But what about these strange people and places?"

"I would guess that his brain is trying to find a way to fill the emptiness," he ventured with a frown.

"Thank you," she said. The woman turned away and returned to her spot at Harry's bedside. "We met when we were small children and . . ." She talked to him for several hours, she told him about their shared childhood, about the time they'd spent growing up, and about the day he'd finally asked for her hand in marriage.

"I don't remember any of that," Harry whispered. After hearing her story, a seed of doubt had been planted. Maybe everything he knew was a lie, maybe . . . maybe it had all been some sort of fever dream.

"That is fine husband, I shall remember for both of us."

"But what about . . . what about magic?" Harry asked nervously. "Was that all a dream too?"

"Magic is no dream husband," she said with a smile. "It's all around us, the force that keeps our society running."

"Where's my wand?"

"Wand?" She asked in confusion. "What's that?"

"It's what you use to channel magic," Harry replied. "You know?"

"I don't," she said quickly. "Magic needs rituals to be channeled. It takes a long time but the result is usually worth it."

"Show me," Harry demanded.

"You're still too weak."

"Show me," Harry persisted.

"Yes husband," she agreed unhappily. "Wait here and I shall bring you something to study."

She brought him the materials and Harry spent hours poring over them, those hours turned to days, the days to months, and the months to years. He studied until he was ready to collapse, he studied until he knew more about their system of magic then the greatest sages. It was all for one purpose, to find a way home. As he did this, there was one constant in his life, his 'wife.' She refused to leave his side and devoted herself to aiding him in his self appointed task.

"What now husband?" She asked after he had studied everything he could find.

"I need to go to the mainland," Harry croaked. "I need to look for Hogwarts."

"Still looking for that place?" She said hotly. "Is it . . . yes husband." She caught herself and returned to her normal manner. "If you say you must."

"And after I get back," Harry took a deep breath. "I was thinking of building another room."

"Why?"

"I was thinking that we could have a baby," Harry said hopefully.

"Oh husband," she said joyfully as she threw herself into his arms. "I've been waiting years to hear that."

Harry made his trip to the mainland and learned much about the conditions outside his home, he did not however learn any clue as to the location or fate of his lost friends or his school.

Harry returned and his wife bore him a son who she insisted on naming him Myrddin after the stories he'd told of a great wizard from his . . . dream? Being a father agreed with him, and a few years later he had a daughter to keep his son company.

Fatherhood did not slow his pursuit of magic and Harry passed that love on to his children. Myrddin shared his father's intrest in magic and took to his studies with a frightening intensity. Harry's daughter on the other hand was fascinated by the stories he told her about magic wands and she became determined to make her father's dream a reality.

The next few decades were the happiest of Harry's life, it seemed that nothing could go wrong until war came to destroy his idyllic life.

"I just don't think that fighting back is the answer," Myrddin argued. "Father, we should run. I've read your notes and I know that the mainland has good land for growing crops. We could live in peace."

"For a few years," Harry allowed. "Until they caught up to us."

"But father . . ."

"I'll make my stand here," Harry said firmly. "I'm too old to run off to start a new life. Take your sister and her family and go with my blessing." Harry regarded his son with an unreadable look.

"If you're staying then so am I," Myrddin said stubbornly.

"You have a responsibility to your sister and your nephew," Harry said. "Ollivander is only five years old."

"But father . . . "

"Like I said," Harry tried again. "You can go to the mainland and you will escape the war for a few years, unless I stop them here."

"Yes father," he agreed finally. "What about mother?"

"Your mother," Harry sighed. "Your mother is staying with me, she won't leave and . . . and it wouldn't matter anyway."

"What do you mean father?"

"She's been sick," Harry explained sadly. "She wouldn't have long anyway."

"That's why you won't leave," Harry's son said with dawning understanding. "You want to die with mother."

"I'd rather not live without her," Harry allowed. "Go son, it won't be long before their fleet arrives and if you wait too long."

"Farewell father," Myrddin said firmly. "I will make you proud."

"You already have son," Harry said. "You already have."

Harry's prediction proved accurate and the enemy fleet arrived just days after what was left of his family escaped to the new land.

"Wife," Harry greeted the love of his life.

"Husband," she gasped. "What is it like outside?"

"Their armies are marching through our city," Harry said tightly. "Our people are being killed."

"The children?"

"Are safe," Harry assured the woman. "Safe and I shall keep them safe. I'm going to stop them."

"Keep our children safe," she whispered her last words.

"I shall, my love." Harry agreed as he began to draw power from his surroundings. Harry unleashed his power onto the land he'd grown to love, sinking his island home and destroying the enemy fleet.

"So now our story is at an end Husband." Harry looked up to see his dead wife smiling down at him.

"Wife," Harry said with a smile. "I had hoped to meet you on the other side."

"I am sorry husband," she said sadly. "Our people were at an end and we needed to find some way to insure that we would be remembered. Myrddin took his group to the mainland but it was decided that a more complete record should be left."

"No . . ."

"Yes husband, you were given the experience of one hundred men. All distilled into a single life."

"Who were you?"

"Your wife," she said with a weak smile. "Forgive me husband, and farewell."

"No," Harry gasped. "NOOOOOO."

"Madame Pomphrey, he's waking up."

"How are you doing Mr. Potter?" The healer asked. "Mr. Potter."

Harry looked at the ghosts of his past with dead eyes. "I need a parchment and a quill."

"Harry what . . ."

"I need to write it before I forget," Harry said with tears flowing down his cheeks. "Please."

AN: Yes I stole this story line from a Star Trek episode, one of the better ones too. And no this is not plagiarism, if it were then there would be no story that wasn't. This is an idea I had for a prologue, one thing I never liked about that episode is that they never revisited it. They never seemed to admit that giving a man a family and then ripping it away is an extremely cruel and traumatic thing. So what now? Harry is depressed, he's lost everything. What does he care about Voldemort and everyone else? It would be like going away from home for fifty years and returning to your old life again. No idea of where to take this but I will mention that Voldemort should beware, Harry has the knowledge and power needed to destroy all of the wizarding world. All he needs is a reason to unleash it on Voldemort and his Death Eaters.