945As awareness returns to me, my nostrils are immediately assaulted by the smell of antiseptic and my eyes reel from the blinding white light.
A small part of me can't help but feel that I'm too young to recognise the hospital wing this readily. This is, what, my fourth time here? Though the amount of time I spent here with Hermione while she's been petrified probably helped burn the smell into my memory.
Why am I here, anyways? The last thing I remember is going into the Chamber of Secrets. Lockhart tried to wipe my memory, and then…
I don't remember.
I know… something happened. Something that was extremely important.
…And I have absolutely no idea what it was.
Feeling less bleary-eyed, I grab my glasses from the bedside table and look around. Most of the beds are still occupied by petrified students, with Hermione's form occupying the bed to my right. I stare across the aisle at the familiar orange hair splayed out on the pillow.
Ginny!
I went into the Chamber to rescue her, and she was there, and…
I still can't remember the rest.
But she's alive, right? She's got to be alive!
I try to pull myself out of bed, but stagger as the headrush hits me.
How long was I out, anyways?
I push those thoughts to the side as I rush over to Ginny's bed. I need to make sure that she's okay.
A shrill voice stops me before I can get there, though.
"Mister Potter! What are you doing out of bed!?"
I know better than to get on Madam Pomfrey's bad side, though I suspect the number of times I've needed medical attention has already landed me on said side.
"I just… I needed to make sure she's okay."
Her glare continues to rest on me.
"She is fine. You will not be if you don't get back to bed before I can look you over!"
"Yes'm." I mutter as I head back to my bed.
For a healer, she really is quite scary.
Madam Pomfrey begins waving her wand over my body in her usual diagnostic pattern. I can vaguely make out her muttering about "strange residual magic, but nothing definitive". As Madam Pomfrey finishes her scans, Dumbledore walks in.
"Dumbledore?" I ask. "You're back?"
Dumbledore smiles, eyes twinkling. "Indeed, Harry. It would seem that Lucius Malfoy had blackmailed the rest of the board into suspending me, but they decided to stand up to him. So yes, I have been reinstated."
That… doesn't make me feel as happy as I would have expected. I feel more annoyed about it than anything. Weird.
"Professor," I ask, "what happened in the Chamber of Secrets?"
His expression grows solemn. "I was hoping you could tell me that, Harry. It was several hours after the cave-in occurred before young Mister Weasley was able to get help. By the time the staff made it down to the Chamber, there were no signs of any perpetrator. You and Miss Weasley were lying in the centre of a ritual circle, though the whole thing had been burned apart by basilisk venom, preventing us from determining what its purpose may have been. Can you tell me what you remember?"
"I… I don't remember. I know we needed to get down there to rescue Ginny. Hermione left us a message that the monster was a basilisk, and the reason no one died was because no one had seen it directly."
"Yes, it was a stroke of genius that allowed Miss Granger to determine the monster's identity. I suspect that her muggle upbringing makes it easier for her to shed preconceptions that those of us raised with magic would have. Many would write off a basilisk as being the monster's identity since no one had died, and not think to look further."
Dumbledore was really getting on my nerves, and I had no idea why. He was acting the same way he always had, so why was it bothering me so much?
"After that, Lockhart used Ron's wand to try and wipe our memories, but the spell backfired through Ron's broken wand and it caved in the ceiling. I kept walking until I made my way to the inner chamber. I remember seeing Ginny's pale form lying on the ground and worrying that she was dead, and… that's the last thing I can remember before waking up here."
"That is indeed concerning." Dumbledore says. "Do you suspect that your memories may have been tampered with in the same way that Lockhart attempted?"
I shrug. "No idea, professor."
"If you wouldn't mind, I could try and check for any signs of such tampering." He explains. "It would require me to look around in your memories a bit, which is something I would rather not do without your permission."
I don't want that manipulative old bastard in my head!
...Damnit, why is he pissing me off so much? Maybe it's for the best that I let him take a look around. Perhaps there's something else wrong with me besides the fact that I can't remember things.
"Uh, sure, just try not to look around too much."
Dumbledore smiles, twinkle re-emerging in his eyes. "I wouldn't dream of it, Harry. Just maintain eye contact with me for a moment."
I feel an odd sensation of something moving around in my head, in a bizarre, non-physical way. After a moment, the sensation vanishes and Dumbledore steps back.
"There's no sign of any conventional external tampering or memory charms. It's quite unlike anything I've ever seen. Miss Weasley has already checked positive for memory charms, though hers encompass a variety of events over the course of the whole year. Whoever was responsible did a very good job covering their tracks, and I fear they may have truly eluded us. This is quite the Riddle we're faced with."
I feel a flash of recognition at the word "Riddle", but it quickly fades back into annoyance. I actually find myself surprisingly unconcerned that the culprit got away, too. I know Dumbledore said there was no sign of tampering, but I still feel like something's not right in my head. I consider mentioning it, but decide against it. That said, I do still have one concern…
"Professor, is the school still going to be closed?"
"Ah, well in that respect, we are lucky." He says, his smile returning. "The DMLE is currently in contact with a parseltongue-fluent cursebreaker in India. They plan on entering the chamber and killing the basilisk. Assuming they are successful, which I have all confidence they will be, then the school will remain open."
Well, there was that, at least. Not being able to come back to Hogwarts would honestly be one of the worst things I could imagine. I'm just glad it won't come to pass.
"Well, I think that about concludes our business, Harry. If anything comes to mind about what happened in the Chamber, anything at all, please let me know."
Another tinge of annoyance runs through my head when he speaks. I consider asking him about my weird anger, but…
No.
A voice in the back of my head tells me that that is a very bad idea.
And really, it probably is. So many problems could be avoided if Dumbledore was less afraid to take action
The remainder of the term proceeds as normal, though several aurors are stationed around the school, monitoring for any potential activity from the basilisk or the return of the Heir. The petrified students are restored with minimal fuss, much to my relief. It's nice to be able to talk with Hermione again. I enjoy Ron's company, but Hermione's insightfulness can be really useful.
"So what's bothering you, Harry?" Hermione asks. "You've been brooding all week."
I sigh. "That's part of the problem — I'm not sure what's wrong. I've been feeling really easily irritated — mostly by Dumbledore — ever since I went down to the Chamber. I can't remember what happened there, and even though Dumbledore said there were no signs of memory erasure, I feel like I'm missing something. I can't shake the feeling that something really important happened down there, and it affected me somehow."
"Well," Hermione begins, and I can already tell it's going to be a rant, "Maybe you should try looking at the muggle side of things. Dumbledore was likely only checking for magical signs of memory erasure, but there are plenty of mundane ways that could affect your memory, like a repressed memory that could have been a result of something traumatising happening to you. I have plenty of books on the subject, and I could send you some over the summer if you'd like to look into that side of things, and perhaps seeing a therapist could help, although you may run into issues with that since you wouldn't be able to talk about magic, but if you could figure out allegories for the stuff you deal with at school then it could work."
I shake my head at her usual rambling. It's amazing how much one misses the small things about their friends when they're not around. Listening to one of Hermione's heated rants is the most normal I have felt in months.
"Thanks, Hermione. And thanks for listening. Send me those books, if you can."
A grin lights up her face at the prospect of getting other people to read. Her passion for books is quite singular.
With that out of the way, I continue wandering around the castle before returning to the common room. Since it's currently in that midday period between lunch and dinner, most people are out and about, leaving the common room mostly empty. One figure, though, catches my attention.
Ginny Weasley is sitting by herself in the corner, eyes unfocused. It's clear that this has affected her worse than it affected me.
"Hey," I say as I sit down next to her, "Is everything okay?"
She gets the same wide-eyed and nervous look she had when I first went to the Burrow this summer. At first, I think that her schoolgirl crush is going to win out, but she eventually averts her eyes and shakes her head.
"Do… Do you want to talk about it? I can't remember anything that happened down in the Chamber either. Maybe talking to each other about it will help?"
Ginny mutters something under her breath that I don't catch.
"I'm sorry, what? I couldn't hear you."
"I said 'at least you only forgot what happened in the Chamber'." She huffs "Whoever erased my memory took out whole chunks from the past year. I remember that I was isolating myself from everyone but I don't know why. I remember being consumed with dread but not over what. I remember feeling so alone and empty without any reason why. Even now, I still feel alone and empty even with my family doing their best to offer their support. My memory is filled with gaps and it feels like a part of me is missing."
"Oh." I say, struck by just how badly she's taking this. "Is there any chance of recovering your memories?"
She shakes her head again. "According to the mind healer I'm seeing, whoever did it was good. Apparently, faulty memory charms can be reversed and even a well-executed conventional memory charm can be undone with some extra effort, but this one scrubbed them clean from my head with no remnants. There's no chance of recovering them."
"That sucks. I'm really sorry."
"Thanks. And I'm sorry, too. I shouldn't have bothered you with my stupid crush this year." She gives me a small smile, but I can see that there's no emotion behind it.
Ginny gets up and leaves without saying anything while I ponder her words. I don't think I'd realised just how hard it was for her, or how much of her memory was erased. Whatever issues I'm dealing with pale in comparison to hers.
The remainder of the year passes in a blur. I beg Dumbledore not to send me back to my relatives again, and he refuses again. Exams pass without fuss, though the answers to the written questions come to me more easily than I'd expect. The practical components of the tests are even easier than last year, despite the advancement of the content.
The ride on the Hogwarts express passes as normal, though the mood is less jubilant than last year, since no one knows if the school will actually stay open until after the aurors try and kill the basilisk. Hermione is blustering about exams, as usual, while Ron is looking like he would rather be talking about anything but exams, also as usual.
Everything happens as it should, at least until that evening when I get back. After Vernon finishes locking my school supplies in my old cupboard, I move up to my room just to avoid their company for as long as I can manage. It's only after I shut the door and lie down that I hear a feminine voice echo in the back of my mind.
Good, you're finally alone and out of the old goat's hair. I was starting to feel stir-crazy in my isolation.
A/N: Obliviation is fucked up, huh?