tw: blood + fighting/violence
early update & short(er) chapter because i'm bored ANYWAYS enjoyy :)
\ wherein they kick ass /
"PHEOBE, WE CAN'T GO flying to the Ministry just because you heard your boyfriend's voice in the fire!"
"And we aren't! We're going flying to the Ministry because I know what happens next this chapter!"
"Okay, number one: the hell do you mean chapter? Number two: why didn't you deny it when I called him your boyfriend?"
"Is this really the time?" Pheobe sighed, dragging a hand down her face as Remus crossed his arms.
"Here we go," Professor McGonagall sighed.
"Pheobe, please do not tell me that you're dating the son of James Potter."
"I think we both know the answer to that."
"No, you don't understand, he will corrupt you- it won't be the first time a Potter has corrupted a nice, innocent ginger!"
"It's not natural color!"
"And he's not natural! He's- he's abnormal"
"Moony!"
"There's been a message," announced a booming voice from upstairs. Pheobe didn't hesitate before sprinting up the stairs to the guest bedroom, where Phineas Nigellus's portrait resided.
"Harry?"
"Severus Snape," Phineas deadpanned, McGonagall and Remus walking in quickly.
"Well, go on, then, what's his message?"
"He says that Harry Potter says 'she's been taken'."
"Who?"
"She."
"Me," Pheobe sighed, "fuck, he thinks I've been taken."
"Please explain for those of us who didn't time travel from the future," Remus said impatiently.
"Well, since you asked so nicely." Pheobe scoffed. "We've got to go to the Ministry! Harry thinks Voldemort kidnapped me!"
"And how are you so sure that you're the 'she' he was talking about?" Remus asked suspiciously.
"Oh, well, if you think it might be Romilda Vane, then by all means!"
"You've got her temper, you know."
"What, the woman who faked her death, Obliviated herself, and went back in time to restart her family?"
"No, the woman who chose to have you become part of her already-very-large one."
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The Ministry was usually a place where people were talking about their weekends or mornings with their coworkers during their breaks while they drank warm, bitter coffee before heading to their respective floors to do their work for the day. Overall, a lively and chatty place.
But on that dark, gloomy night, it was anything but.
Pheobe, Remus, Tonks, Sirius, Kingsley, and Moody, Apparated to the Ministry, the 'Crack!' echoing around the empty halls.
"Where are they?" Remus said with furrowed eyebrows.
"Department of Mysteries," Pheobe said instantly.
"And just how do you know that?"
"Stop doubting me! Let's go!" and before anyone could protest, Pheobe rushed off, forcing the adults to follow.
The six of them rushed down three flights of stairs (which was definitely hard for Moody, who hobbled the whole time) and heard the sound of shouts and screams coming from behind one of the doors.
"--that's not just Harry in there," said Remus, his face growing pale.
"I think I hear my wicked excuse of a cousin in there. Fuck, I can't wait to kill Bella," Sirius said darkly, sprinting forwards and shoving the door open, the five others right on his heels. Pheobe realized they were several feet above the fighting wizards and witches, and saw Lucius Malfoy turn around from where he had been hovering over Harry threateningly and raise his wand, but Tonks quickly sent a Stunning Spell right at him.
Harry dived off the dais he had been standing on and the Death Eaters surrounding Harry and Neville were distracted as they stared up at the members of the Order and Pheobe, who were raining spells down upon them, jumping step to step towards the sunken floor. Pheobe watched as one of her Stunning Spells narrowly missed Bellatrix Lestrange and sighed in annoyance.
"Are you okay?" yelled a voice as Pheobe's gaze flicked to Harry pulling Neville up, who had a bloody nose but looked determined.
"YEAH- NOPE NO NOT ANYMORE."
The stone floor between them had just exploded as a spell hit it, leaving a crater right where Neville's hand had been only seconds before; both scrambled away from the spot, then a thick arm came out of nowhere, seized Harry around the neck and pulled him upright, so that his toes were barely touching the floor. Pheobe's eyes widened in shock but suddenly there was a streak of red going past her ear, and she ducked to see a Death Eater aiming their wand at her.
"Expelliarmus!" Pheobe shouted, pointing her wand right back, and watching with a sort of grim triumphance as his wand flew out of his hand, but it all backfired when he decided that his wand was no longer necessary and started running towards her. The brunette, dearly wishing she had learned some form of martial arts when she was younger, ducked out of the way and kicked the Death Eater in the leg, watching him double over and groan in pain.
Pheobe suddenly found herself watching Dolohov approach her, his long pale face twisted with glee.
"Black, how I have wanted to do this for ages," he sneered, before making a slashing movement with his wand just as a voice bellowed "PROTEGO!"
Pheobe felt something streak across her face, like a blunt knife, and the force of it knocked her sideways as she fell onto the rubble, but the Shield Charm had stopped the worst of it.
"You're okay, you're okay!" Harry yelled, pulling Pheobe to her feet just as Dolohov raised his wand again. "Accio proph-"
Sirius had hurtled out of nowhere, rammed Dolohov with his shoulder, and sent him flying out of the way. The cloudy glass ball Harry had been holding flew to the tips of Harry's fingers but he had managed to cling on to it. Now Sirius and Dolohov were dueling, their wands flashing like swords, sparks flying from their wand-tips--
Dolohov drew back his wand to make the same slashing movement he had used on Pheobe. Springing up, Harry yelled, "Petrificus Totalus!" Dolohov's arms and legs snapped together and he keeled over backwards, landing with a crash on his back.
"Nice one, James!" shouted Sirius, forcing Harry's and Pheobe's heads down as a pair of Stunning Spells flew towards the teenagers. "Now, I want you to get out of--"
The three of them ducked again; a jet of green light had narrowly missed Pheobe. Across the room the brunette saw Tonks' wand fly out of her hand and Bellatrix, triumphant, running towards the fray.
"Take the prophecy, grab Neville and RUN!" Sirius yelled, dashing to meet Bellatrix. Pheobe did not see what happened next: Kingsley swayed across her field of vision, battling with the pockmarked and no longer masked Rookwood; another jet of green light flew over Harry's head as he and Pheobe launched themselves towards Neville--
"CAN YOU STAND?" Harry bellowed into Neville's ear, as Neville's legs jerked and twitched uncontrollably, due to a Tarantallegro curse from Dolohov. Pheobe huffed before grabbing one of Neville's arms and pulling him up as Harry did the same with Neville's other--
And then, out of nowhere, a man lunged at them: all three fell backward, Neville's legs waving wildly like an overturned beetle's.
"The prophecy, give me the prophecy, Potter!" snarled Lucius Malfoy's voice to Harry, and Pheobe felt the tip of Malfoy's wand pressing hard between her ribs all of a sudden. "Or I hurt the girl."
"Get- the fuck- off!"
"NEVILLE, CATCH!"
Harry flung the prophecy across the floor, Neville spun himself around on his back and scooped the ball to his chest. Malfoy pointed the wand instead at Neville, but Harry jabbed his own wand back over his shoulder and yelled, 'Impedimenta!'
Malfoy was blasted off his back. As Pheobe scrambled up she looked around and saw Malfoy smash into the dais on which Sirius and Bellatrix were now dueling. Malfoy aimed his wand at Pheobe, Harry and Neville again, but before he could draw breath to strike, Remus had jumped between them.
"Round up the others and GO!"
Pheobe and Harry seized Neville by the shoulders of his robes and lifted him bodily on to the first tier of stone steps; Neville's legs twitched and jerked and would not support his weight; Harry heaved again with all the strength he possessed and they climbed another step--
A spell hit the stone bench at Pheobe's heel; it crumbled away and she fell back to the step below. Neville sank to the ground, his legs still jerking and thrashing, and he thrust the prophecy into his pocket.
"Come on!" said Harry desperately as Pheobe quickly stood back up and attempted to regain her footing, hauling at Neville's robes. "Just try and push with your legs--"
They gave another stupendous heave and Neville's robes tore all along the left seam--the small spun-glass ball dropped from his pocket and, before any of them could catch it, one of Neville's floundering feet kicked it: it flew some ten feet to their right and smashed on the step beneath them. As the three of them stared at the place where it had broken, appalled at what had happened, a pearly-white figure with hugely magnified eyes rose into the air, unnoticed by any but them. Pheobe could see its mouth moving, but in all the crashes and screams and yells surrounding them, not one word of the prophecy could she hear, although Harry seemed to hear clearly, his face paling by the second. The figure stopped speaking and dissolved into nothingness.
"I'b sorry!" cried Neville, his face anguished as his legs continued to flounder. "I'b so sorry, Harry, Pheebe, I didn'd bean do--"
"Doesn't matter!" Pheobe shouted, "Just try and stand, let's get out of-"
"Dubbledore!" said Neville, his sweaty face suddenly transported, staring over Harry's shoulder.
"What?"
"DUBBLEDORE!"
Pheobe turned to look where Neville was staring. Directly above them, framed in the doorway from the Brain Room, stood Albus Dumbledore, his wand aloft, his face white and furious. Pheobe felt a kind of electric charge surge through every particle of her body--they were saved.
Dumbledore sped down the steps past Neville, Pheobe and Harry, who had no more thoughts of leaving. Dumbledore was already at the foot of the steps when the Death Eaters nearest realized he was there and yelled to the others. One of the Death Eaters ran for it, scrabbling like a monkey up the stone steps opposite. Dumbledore's spell pulled him back as easily and effortlessly as though he had hooked him with an invisible line--
Only one pair was still battling, apparently unaware of the new arrival. Pheobe saw Sirius duck Bellatrix's jet of red light: he was laughing at her.
"Come on, you can do better than that!" he yelled, his voice echoing around the cavernous room. Bellatrix cackled suddenly.
"You're right! I can!" and then, she turned to Pheobe and raised her wand, shooting a jet of light before the girl could even comprehend what was going on.
And it hit Pheobe, and there was pain, like a thousand knives stabbing her over and over and over again, and it was fourth year all over again, and Cedric's dead body was laying three feet away from her-
Bellatrix screamed triumphantly but Pheobe could barely hear it, her heart pounding in her ears as she screamed in pure pain, feeling like it would've hurt less to have dropped dead.
"STOP IT!"
"EXPELLIARMUS!" Shouted multiple voices all at once, five wands aimed at Bellatrix, but the woman cackled and dodged the spells and, if possible, made a way to increase the pain. Pheobe screamed even louder, wishing she would pass out, wishing the endless pain would stop, wishing that someone would save her.
The members of the Order quickly realized using magic wasn't getting rid of the Lestrange and Pheobe vividly saw someone run and punch Bellatrix in the nose, blood gushing out as Pheobe's vision grew blurry and she felt the world start spinning, the pain finally fading but the memories still vibrant.
But Bellatrix, albeit the bloody nose, wasn't done. She aimed her wand at Pheobe one last time.
"OBLIVIATE!"
There was a moment of pure silence before Pheobe's fell, her head hitting the floor with a loud thump, and Sirius tackled Bellatrix to the ground.
"HOW-- DARE-- YOU!" he bellowed, throwing punches this way and that, but it was too late, the damage was done.
Harry sprinted to Pheobe as fast as his legs would carry him and bent over the girl, panting in fear and exhaustion.
"Pheobe," he whispered, shaking her, "Pheobe, please, please."
"Harry?" Pheobe murmured softly. Harry's heartbeat slowed down just the slightest as he sighed in relief.
"Hi, love."
"Hi," Pheobe said, her eyelids drooping, "don't look so scared, stupid, you can't lose me that easily."
"I'll hold you to that," said Harry, a tear spilling out of the corner of his eye out of pure exhaustion and happiness.
"Are you leaking?" Pheobe squinted at him, brushing away the tear.
"Yeah. I'm leaking." the boy noticed how much energy it was taking her to stay awake for him, and was beginning to worry, for he didn't know how long it would take for the effects of Bellatrix's curses to start working. "Pheobe, Pheobe, you've got to try to stay awake, we'll get you to St. Mungo's in no time, I promise."
"Okay. No rush." said Pheobe, "although I think I'm also leaking."
"Not from your eyes," Harry began to smile, before it completely dissipated when Pheobe held up a hand covered in dark red liquid.
"I don't know where it's coming from. It hurts. Can I just take a nap?"
"No, love, you can't, you've just got to hold on a little bit longer, it's- it's gonna be okay," said Harry, fighting the tears as he gently tried to find where it was coming from, and found a deep gash on the back of her head.
"I'm tired."
"I know, but you- you've got to hang on-" said Harry, his hands shaking as he lifted his head and looked for the other members of the Order. Everyone was gone. It was just them. "SOMEONE HELP! PLEASE!" Harry shouted, begging for help, but nobody came.
"Harry, I'm just gonna take a super duper quick nap, okay? Like, five seconds, I promise."
"Pheobe, you can't leave me," Harry said, his voice trembling, "we haven't even gone on our first official date as boyfriend and girlfriend yet."
"This is our date. I had fun kicking Death Eater's asses with you," Pheobe said faintly.
"Me too. But we need to have a proper one. Where do you want to go?" he swiped at his eyes so she wouldn't see his tears.
"...dunno.." Pheobe said, beginning to drift off.
"Pheobe?"
"...yeah?"
"I love you."
"I love you too. Can I sleep now?"
"Yeah. You can rest now."
"Okay. Tell my grandma I love her."
"Your grandmas are both dead."
"I know. It's a joke."
"Oh."
Pheobe wasn't quick to tease him about it this time, and finally let her eyes close slowly, exhaling deeply.
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They reached Hogwarts just as the sun was rising and rushed the kids to the Hospital Wing, giving Madam Pomfrey a right scare to see six teenagers, each one either bleeding, hobbling, or passed out.
"And what's happened to this one?" sighed Pomfrey as she closed the curtains around Hermione's cot, having finished with her, Neville, Ginny, Ron, and Luna, and turning to Pheobe.
"Cruciatus...and Obliviated."
"Cruciated?" Pomfrey grabbed a variety of potions, staring at the girl, "well that's quite, quite unfortunate, oh dear, oh dear."
"Will you be able to wake her up?" Pomfrey furrowed her eyebrows at Remus, Tonks, and Kingsley.
"Thank you, respected Aurors and Mr. Lupin, for believing in my Healing capabilities, and now I request you to kindly get out."
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HE WHO MUST NOT BE NAMED RETURNS
'In a brief statement on Friday night, Minister for Magic Cornelius Fudge confirmed that He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named has returned to this country and is once more active.
'"It is with great regret that I must confirm that the wizard styling himself Lord--well, you know who I mean--is alive and among us again," said Fudge, looking tired and flustered as he addressed reporters. "It is with almost equal regret that we report the mass revolt of the dementors of Azkaban, who have shown themselves averse to continuing in the Ministry's employ. We believe the dementors are currently taking direction from Lord-- Thingy.
'"We urge the magician population to remain vigilant. The Ministry is currently publishing guides to elementary home and personal defense which will be delivered free to all wizarding homes within the coming month."
'The Minister's statement was met with dismay and alarm from the wizarding community, which as recently as last Wednesday was receiving Ministry assurances that there was "no truth whatsoever in these persistent rumors that You-Know-Who is operating amongst us once more."
'Details of the events that led to the Ministry turnaround are still hazy, though it is believed that He Who Must Not Be Named and a select band of followers (known as Death Eaters) gained entry to the Ministry of Magic itself on Thursday evening.
'Albus Dumbledore, newly reinstated Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, reinstated member of the International Confederation of Wizards and reinstated Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, has so far been unavailable for comment. He has insisted over the past year that You-Know-Who is not dead, as was widely hoped and believed, but is recruiting followers once more for a fresh attempt to seize power. Meanwhile, the "Boy Who Lived"--'
"There you are, Harry, I knew they'd drag you into it somehow," said Hermione, looking over the top of the paper at him.
They were in the hospital wing. Harry was sitting on the end of Pheobe's bed, listening to Hermione read the front page of the Sunday Prophet. Ginny, whose ankle had been mended in a trice by Madam Pomfrey, was curled up at the foot of Hermione's bed; Neville, whose nose had likewise been returned to its normal size and shape, was in a chair between the two beds with Ron in a chair next to him, and Luna, who had dropped in to visit, clutching the latest edition of The Quibbler, was reading the magazine upside-down and apparently not taking in a word Hermione was saying.
"He's the "boy who lived" again now, though, isn't he?" said Ron darkly. "Not such a deluded show-off anymore, eh?"
He helped himself to a handful of Chocolate Frogs from the immense pile on his bedside cabinet, threw a few to Harry, Ginny and Neville, and ripped off the wrapper of his own with his teeth, the deep welts on his forearms prominent in the light.
"Yes, they're very complimentary about you now, Harry," said Hermione, scanning down the article. "'A lone voice of truth ... perceived as unbalanced, yet never wavered in his story ... forced to bear ridicule and slander ...' Hmmm," she said, frowning, "I notice they don't mention the fact that it was them doing all the ridiculing and slandering in the Prophet ..."
She winced slightly and put a hand to her ribs. Dolohov had used a curse on her when she and the others had arrived at the Ministry, before the Order and Pheobe, which had caused, in Madam Pomfrey's words, 'quite enough damage to be going on with'. Hermione was having to take ten different types of potion every day, was improving greatly, and was already bored with the hospital wing.
"You-Know-Who's Last Attempt to Take Over, pages two to Jour, What the Ministry Should Have Told Us, page five, Why Nobody Listened to Albus Dumbledore, pages six to eight, Exclusive Interview with Harry Potter, page nine ...Well," said Hermione, folding up the newspaper and throwing it aside, "it's certainly given them lots to write about. And that interview with Harry isn't exclusive, it's the one that was in The Quibbler months ago ..."
"'Daddy sold it to them," said Luna vaguely, turning a page of The Quibbler. "He got a very good price for it, too, so we're going to go on an expedition to Sweden this summer to see if we can catch a Crumple-Horned Snorkack."
Hermione seemed to struggle with herself for a moment, then said, "That sounds lovely, Luna."
"So, anyway," said Hermione, sitting up a little straighter and wincing again, "what's going on in school?"
"Well, Flitwick's got rid of Fred and George's swamp," said Ginny, "he did it in about three seconds. But he left a tiny patch under the window and he's roped it off--"
"Why?" said Hermione, looking startled.
"Oh, he just says it was a really good bit of magic," said Ginny, shrugging.
"I think he left it as a monument to Fred and George," said Ron, through a mouthful of chocolate. "They sent me all these, you know," he told Harry, pointing at the small mountain of Frogs beside him. "Must be doing all right out of that joke shop, eh?"
Hermione looked rather disapproving and asked, "So has all the trouble stopped now Dumbledore's back?"
"Yep," said Neville, "everything's settled right back to normal."
"I s'pose Filch is happy, is he?" asked Ron, propping a Chocolate Frog Card featuring Dumbledore against his water jug.
"Not at all," said Ginny. "He's really, really miserable, actually ..." She lowered her voice to a whisper. "He keeps saying Umbridge was the best thing that ever happened to Hogwarts ..."
All six of them looked around. Professor Umbridge was lying in a bed opposite them, gazing up at the ceiling. According to Harry and Hermione, she had been carried away by centaurs, and Dumbledore had strode alone into the Forest to rescue her from them; how he had done it--how he had emerged from the trees supporting Professor Umbridge without so much as a scratch on him--nobody knew, and Umbridge was certainly not telling.
Since she had returned to the castle she had not, as far as any of them knew, uttered a single word. Nobody really knew what was wrong with her, either. Her usually neat mousy hair was very untidy and there were still bits of twigs and leaves in it, but otherwise she seemed to be quite unscathed.
"Madam Pomfrey says she's just in shock," whispered Hermione.
"Sulking, more like," said Ginny.
"Yeah, she shows signs of life if you do this," said Ron, and with his tongue, he made soft clip-clopping noises. Umbridge sat bolt upright, looking around wildly.
"Anything wrong, Professor?" called Madam Pomfrey, poking her head around her office door.
"No ... no ..." said Umbridge, sinking back into her pillows. "No, I must have been dreaming ..."
Hermione and Ginny muffled their laughter in the bedclothes.
"Speaking of centaurs," said Hermione, when she had recovered a little, "who's Divination teacher now? Is Firenze staying?'
"He's got to," said Harry, 'the other centaurs won't take him back, will they?"
"It looks like he and Trelawney are both going to teach," said Ginny.
"Bet Dumbledore wishes he could've got rid of Trelawney for good," said Ron, now munching on his fourteenth Frog. "Mind you, the whole subject's useless if you ask me, Firenze isn't a lot better ..."
"How can you say that?" Hermione demanded. "After we've just found out that there are real prophecies?"
Harry's heart began to race. He had heard the prophecy when it broke and heard the voice telling him that he had to be either the murderer or the victim when it came to Voldemort, that there was no other way.
He hadn't told Ron, Hermione or anyone else what the prophecy had contained. Neville had told them it had smashed while Harry and Pheobe were pulling him up the steps in the Death Room and Harry had not yet corrected this impression. He was not ready to see their expressions when he told them what he had heard
"It is a pity it broke," said Hermione quietly, shaking her head.
"Yeah, it is," said Ron. "Still, at least You-Know-Who never found out what was in it either--"
"Yeah, but it would've been good if we knew before him," Ginny frowned.
"Yeah..." Harry looked over at Pheobe, who still hadn't woken up, the girl looking so peaceful that she could have been mistaken for sleeping. "Has she moved or anything?"
"Hm? Oh...no," Hermione said, her voice growing quieter, "she's alive, though. That we know for sure."
"So, so what, she's in a coma?"
"Madam Pomfrey doesn't know," Ron said grimly, "but they're going to take her to St. Mungo's today."
"Harry," Hermione said suddenly, "what- what happened to Pheobe?"
"Er, Stunning Spells and...stuff."
"No," Hermione scoffed, "Stunning Spells don't do that to you." Harry slowly looked up at Hermione, his green eyes dull.
"Cruciatus curse. And then...she was Obliviated." Hermione's face promptly went pale.
"What?!"
"And it's not the first time she's been Cruciated, mind you," Harry said, reaching over and picking up Pheobe's cold hand. "Last year, third task."
"That was what happened to her?!"
"Yeah." Harry muttered numbly.
That seemed to be a common occurrence. The world was going numb, the pain was numb, and Harry's heart was going numb.
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"Hey, you're Harry Potter, right?"
"Guess so."
"Well, Dumbledore's asking for you."
"Tell him to bugger off."
"Can't do that, really, but he said he thought you'd say something along those lines, so he told me to tell you that she's awake."
Harry sprung out of the squeaky couch and was already running faster than he had ever before to the Headmaster's office, where he saw the headmaster himself standing directly outside the statue of a gargoyle, with Ron, Draco, James, Ginny, and Hermione by his side.
The last few days had been ridiculously hard without Pheobe, and all of them could agree, waiting impatiently for the news that she was awake- although they didn't know for sure that they would even get the news. School was barely feeling like school anymore, anyways, now that the final exams were over, but while everyone else was outside, enjoying the sunny weather and their last days of school, the six of them had been no less than miserable.
"She's awake?" Harry said, out of breath, to which Dumbledore nodded.
"Yes. I've brought a Portkey, assuming all of you would want to visit her."
"The fuck we do," Draco muttered under his breath as Dumbledore produced a tattered old notebook and held it out.
"I believe I don't need to explain how this works." said the old man, and he was right, for everyone immediately grabbed onto the notebook, ready to see Pheobe again.
When the world stopped spinning and they were inside of St. Mungo's, Dumbledore didn't waste any time, walking off and leaving the students to run after, up three flights of stairs and down four halls, past fifteen doors and then turn right twice.
It was strange that they were able to remember it in such detail despite how stressed they were.
"I shall wait outside, although I do recommend you to go in one at a time, so you won't overstimulate her."
"I'll go first," said Harry instantly. Draco looked like he wanted to argue, but ended up sighing under his breath and nodding.
"Make it quick." was all he said. Harry nodded back and walked up to the door, gently pushing it open to see her sitting there calmly, her red hair faded and her grey eyes bright against her pale skin, but she was in a much better state than before.
"Othello," Harry cracked a grin, making her jump in surprise and look over at him, and he somewhat agreed with the face she made once she scanned his appearance. Her tentative loss had shaken him roughly. "Yeah, I know, I'm a state. How're you feeling? You okay? We've all been worried sick-"
"--sorry, do I know you?" she asked finally, her long fingers tapping at her book.
"Do you-? Have you lost your- oh." Harry took a step back. "I'm- I'm so sorry. I'm Harry Potter."
"Oh. I'm Pheobe Weasley. Or so I've been told. Did we know eachother? Before the accident?"
"The accident?" Harry repeated, scanning the room for any sign to make sure Pheobe still knew magic existed, trying to hold back tears because god damn it, she didn't remember him. He thought he lost her, found out he didn't, only to realize that he really had lost her.
"The one involving...what was it? Sticks that shoot out magic sparks," she gave him a small smile and he couldn't muster up the energy to force a fake one back, because inside his heart was shattering, shattering into a million different pieces, all of them screaming her name.
"Yeah, we knew each other. We were really close. I don't want to take up too much of your time, though, there's a lot of other people waiting to see you."
"Okay. I'll see you later, then?"
"..later, yeah."
"It was nice meeting you." Harry couldn't bear to say anything back and walked as normally as he could out of the room, where the others were waiting anxiously, Dumbledore nowhere to be seen.
"How is she?" Hermione asked finally.
"She doesn't remember," said Harry, his voice breaking.
"Doesn't remember what?" James said cautiously.
"Doesn't remember anything. None of it. Not a single fucking thing." their faces went white.
"None of it," Ginny repeated, her hands trembling.
"You're telling me she- she's forgotten all of us?" Ron asked shakily.
"yeah."
gonna publish the next chapter later today/ early tomorrow dont hate me 💃💃