In Greek mythology, Lethe, known as the river of forgetfulness, is one of the five rivers of the Underworld. Spirits of the dead were required to drink from it to forget their past existence. Lethe was also the goddess or personification of oblivion, with whom the river is often identified.
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d r a c o
My mother had not asked a rhetorical question. She waited patiently for my answer. "I think you should ask yourself what it would make you if you didn't," I said coldly.
"You speak of love but you barely understand it," my mother rasped. "Perhaps you can tell me, then, my darling Draco. What would that make me if I didn't?"
"A coward," someone else spoke for me.
We turned in surprise. It was Susan, her wand pointed surely at my mother. I thought I had heard wrong, but she spoke again, her voice clear and orotund.
"You got Draco into this mess all those years ago because you haven't the guts to stand up for what's right, not even for your own son. And now, you are willing to murder your daughter-in-law and grandson for a sniveling louse who doesn't give a fuck about you. I say that makes you a coward, Narcissa. What do you think?"
My mother jutted her jaw proudly. "I don't have the power to stop this. And you, girl, are a fool to think if you do. You all are!"
"Expelliarmus!"
My mother deflected the spell easily, and the hall lit up with red and green as they broke into a duel. Narcissa was quick, but Susan was incessant, her wand slashing through the air repeatedly. Her tiny figure never seemed to tire as she threw her arm outward again and again, unstopping. Each step she took forward forced my mother to move one step back.
I was about to intervene when the door burst open. A man stood there. No - a boy. Tall, dark, and monstrous in build. I knew him instantly. My mother had shown me pictures years ago. His face had been in the Daily Prophet for the past weeks. Barnabas Abigor.
Before I could react, Hannah jumped in front of me. "Confringo!" It collided with his Killing curse, one spell causing the other to disappear. He began to rain attacks on us, and the crackling snaps of spells exploded in the air as Hannah rallied him.
"Find Angel," she ordered me, blocking another curse. "Go! Now!"
I forced myself to run. Out the room and up the corridor. I was not thinking, but there was no need to. This used to be my house; its ways were burned into my memory like the stars in Angel's eyes.
She would be somewhere in the West wing, I was sure of it. I wanted to laugh at how predictable my father was. He would be there to greet me. He would tell me how futile all this was, and that nothing we could do would stop him from getting what he wanted. I would tell him to shut the fuck up, and then I would kill him. And I would bring Angel home as the Manor burned behind me.
These thoughts whirled about in my head when a voice from behind halted me in my tracks. "Draco Malfoy?"
A girl with dark hair stood at one of the doors I had just passed. Her green eyes were pink and sore, like she had just been crying. "Who are you?" I demanded. She darted forward and took my hand. "Come with me."
We flew past the hall of never-ending portraits towards the library. But instead of going in, she stopped right outside. Then, waving her wand in front of the empty wall next to the entrance, she recited a spell.
The shape of a door began to take form. The indentation of the wood became more prominent, and a doorknob faded into sight. Downstairs, the faint sounds of the orchestra carried on. "You don't have much time," the girl whispered. "Hurry."
I opened the door without stopping to think about what I would find behind it. It was a room, or what seemed to be the bare bones of one. A bed stood horizontally against the far wall, but it was so dark I could barely make out the figure that lay upon it.
Gripping my wand tighter, I approached slowly. The room smelt heavily of flowers, cinnamon apples, and the strange but distinct scent of something silvery.
The figure turned at my presence. "Draco?"
My name, soft as petals floating down a stream. I would know the way she said it even if I had been blind.
Upon seeing her face, I felt several things at once. Relief. Guilt. Regret. Self-hatred. Love. Her belly was more swollen than I remembered. I took her face, pressing my lips to the top of her head. "Angel, I thought I would never find you. We have to go, now."
Her shackles cracked with a touch of my wand and I attempted to pull her away. To my surprise, she resisted, tugging her hands away from mine. "Wait, Draco, what are you doing here?"
"Wh- what do you mean?" I stammered. "I've- I've come for you!"
She sighed, almost apologetically. "You shouldn't have. You'll only get hurt."
I did not understand. "What are you talking about? Hannah and Susan and Lorcan are here. We have to hurry!"
"No, Codrus will be back soon."
"Which is exactly why we have to go now!" I said irritably. She still did not budge. "Draco," she said slowly. "I'm... I'm with Codrus now."
Whatever she was saying simply ricocheted off my brain. "Angel, look, I'm sorry about what happened, alright? I never meant to hurt you. I promise we'll talk about this when we get home."
She shook her head, speaking even slower this time, with purpose. "Draco, what we had is a thing of the past. I'm with Codrus now. He's not going to like it if he sees you here. Please, go home. "
I paused as the words finally started to permeate my consciousness. "What are you saying?" I breathed.
"I'm saying I want to stay. You really... shouldn't have come."
It was impossible to explain what I felt then. A pain in my chest, so immensely excruciating that death would have been a friendly welcome. But I remained where I was, just managing to squeeze the words from my throat. "I'm here now. I'm here with you."
There was a brief flash of something across her face, but it was gone as quickly as it came. "Draco, please. Enough."
I stared at her. Brown eyes had once looked at me like all the galaxies had been shrunken down and set within my being. Now, they were empty, glazed like a window in a storm. There was something wrong. She had forgotten.
"What... what's wrong with you?"
"Amortentia," the girl's voice came from behind me.
"What?"
"It's Amortentia," she said again. "She knows who you are, but doesn't remember the feelings she had for you."
"Why? Who's given it to her?"
"Codrus."
I wanted to fly into a rage. I wanted tear Angel from her bed and wrench her along with me, out of this damned place and back home where we belonged. Instead, I took a deep breath and steadied myself. "Angel, four years ago, we danced in the Astronomy Tower. That night, I promised that I would come back for you, no matter what. Nothing has changed. I came back for you then, and I've come back for you now. Come home."
"Draco, I'm so sorry." Angel's lip trembled. "Please just go home. Tell him to leave, Morie, before Codrus comes back."
I turned back to the stranger, the girl she called Morie. "How? How can I make her remember?"
"I don't know," she croaked.
I knelt by her bed, clasping her hands in mine. "Angel, I love you. And- and you said you loved me too. You said you loved me more than the stars. Do you remember? You have to remember for me now. Please..."
Her dilated pupils darted across my face as she struggled. My mind reached into its deepest crevices, pulling out every memory I had with her. From the very first time I saw her in the train to Hogwarts to the run-in at Hogsmeade. Intrigue. Adoration. The night she pointed out the constellation of Ophiuchus to me. Yearning. The night she fell asleep after we have had too much Firewhiskey. Dancing in the stars. Our wedding day. Christmases and hot chocolate. Love. So intense it could move mountains if I wished it to.
I concentrated on all these feelings as I stared into her eyes. I have never tried Legilimency like this before, and I prayed to Merlin it would work. But perhaps ex-Death Eaters did not deserve the great wizard's pity, because Angel's face remained blank. Needles jabbed my throat and tears threatened to spill.
Just then, Hannah burst into the room. "There you are!" she cried. "We've managed to restrain your mother and Barnabas, but we have to go now, before the rest of them come!"
I barely heard her. There was only Angel and the emptiness behind her eyes. I swallowed the lump in my throat and tried again. "You don't love him, Angel. He's poisoned you. What you're feeling for him isn't real."
Susan approached. "What's happening, Malfoy?"
"Amortentia," the girl informed them from behind. "She doesn't remember."
"Wait a minute! You! I saw you downstairs!" Hannah said, directing her wand to the girl. "You're with them, aren't you? You're a bloody Death Eater!"
"Abbott, stop," I spoke up finally. "She's with me. She... led me to Angel."
Susan knelt down beside me. "She might not remember you, but she remembers us, surely! Angel," she said. "You remember me, don't you? And Hannah. We're best friends. And you work with Lorcan at the Ministry."
"I know," said Angel.
"Listen, Lucius wants your baby, and we can't let that happen, alright? So we have to go. Come."
I thought Susan's coaxing would have done the trick. But Angel shook her head once more, with finality. "You can't be here, Suze. And I don't want to leave. Please, just go. Tell Draco I don't want him to come back for me."
"Bones, do something," I begged. "You have to."
Susan's eyes wide with panic. "The only antidote is a potion. There's no spell to reverse the effects of Amortentia."
I remembered what Slughorn had said that one day in Potions class. Amortentia, the most powerful love potion in the world.
And here was what I understood about love: If one were to ask what the difference between a memory and a photograph was, I would have said that a photograph captures the image, and a memory captures a feeling.
Love and memories do not exist as separate wholes. They mingled, interwoven like threads on the loom of a weaver. How was it possible to love someone if you do not know who they are or how they made you feel? And so illustrates the sheer power of the intangible.
The only things of true value I ever owned were the memories I had created with Angel. They hung heavy within me, solid and resplendent as the finest gold, even the not-so-good ones. And then I realised I had been wrong about everything.
Memories were nothing. They were simply a thousand moments and feelings existing within our minds in tiny, little bubbles, so easily blown away with the wind, so effortlessly destroyable. They had no strength, no power. After all, it would only take a liquid of roots and animal eggs and pearl dust to rot them all away.
And once they go, so would all the emotions that had come along with them. In that moment, I thought there was nothing worse than existing as only one half of a memory.