The Forgotten

A/N:  This is based on the movie the Forgotten.  Don’t worry about my other stories, they will all be equally updated.  Unlike some, I am able to multi-upload!  Lol, just kidding but I am a very good multi-tasker!  Here we go!

Disclaimer:  Harry Potter is not mine.  Neither is the Forgotten.

The Forgotten

Chapter 1: Letting Go

I turned a few more pages in the worn, aging tome.  A tear slipped its way across my cheek, making a small trail towards my chin.

“Sam,” I whispered, tracing the frayed edges of the pictures I was looking at.  I looked up, into the eyes of Albus Dumbledore.

“How long?” he asked in a gentle voice.  “How long since your loss?”

“Fourteen months, two weeks, and three days.  I could tell you down to the exact hour and minute if you wanted me to.  I just can’t let go,” I responded warily, softly closing the book shut and laying it on a nearby table.

“You have to try, Ginevra.  I am not telling you to forget your son completely, but I am telling you to stop revolving your world around his death.”  He leaned towards me and took my hands in his.  “For the sake of you and those around you, Ginevra, you must try.”

I leaned back and shut my eyes, willing the tears threatening to spill to go away.  I reached to the table right next to me for my mug of coffee.   My hand met emptiness.

“Where’s my coffee?” I asked, looking around to see where I placed it.

“You didn’t have a coffee today,” he responded.  “I offered you one but you said no thanks.  You had a coffee yesterday, though,” he responded.

“But I can still taste the coffee in my mouth,” I argued.  I’m positive I just had a coffee sitting here.”  Albus looked at me funny before nodding his head “No”.

I sighed and gave up my argument.  “I’m leaving,” I responded, grabbing my purse and car keys.  I found driving much more entertaining than apparating.

“You are making progress, Ginevra.  Same time tomorrow, please,” he responded, his age-laced face crinkling into a smile.  I shook his hand before making a beeline straight towards the door.  Making sure my coat was wrapped tight around me, I opened the door and welcomed the crisp November air.

“Goodbye, Albus,” I said before shutting the door softly behind me.  I was fiddling with my car keys, not even realizing the car in front of me was not mine.

“Excuse me, miss.  Can I help you?” the lady inside the car asked.

“Um, my car was parked right here,” I responded, pointing to the space she was occupying.  I parked it here an hour and a half ago.”

“What kind of car was it?” the woman asked.

“A blue Mercedes,” I responded, still utterly confused on how my car could’ve “magically” moved…excuse the pun.  Even though I lived in an entirely magical community, no wingardium leviosa is powerful enough for a two ton car!

The woman pointed behind me, to a spot about four parking spaces away.  “Oh, terribly sorry,” I responded, turning around and walking briskly away.

“I forget all the time,” the woman responded as I turned away.  I mulled over that statement for a moment, before clearing my mind of all thought.  All that could be heard in the quiet streets of Balame were the soft click-clack of my heels on the pavement.

A soft breeze blew by me, tousling my cherry red hair.  The wind nipped at my lips, nose, and cheeks, turning them numb.  I pulled my coat collar up around my face, to shield me from the wind, with no avail.  I fumbled with my car keys and drove the key into the lock as my cellular phone went off.  I abandoned my difficult task of opening the car door and started a new one: digging through my purse.  I acquired my cell phone with ease and flipped it open.

“Hello?”

“Hey babe,” came a voice I knew all too well.

“Hey sis.  I’m just coming home.  I’ll be there in a few minutes,” I responded to my adopted younger sister, who I currently lived with.  I was sixteen when my parents adopted her, and she was seven, so as I was 27 now, she was 18 and just fresh out of Hogwarts.

“I’m making dinner tonight, just to give you some time off your feet.  I just wanted to make sure you’d be home soon since I’m almost finished,” she replied.  I could hear the banging of metal pots and pans in the background, and then a soft obscenity.

“Lauren!” I scolded.

“Sorry, I keep forgetting pot handle cooling spells, so I have to do without them!” she defended herself.

“Metalmorsus,” I sighed.  That had to be the fiftieth time I’ve told her.

“Yea, sorry.  Thanks!”  I heard her whisper the incantation and the breathe a sigh of relief.  “That’s so much better to my hands.  So, have you made any progress?” she asked uneasily.

“That’s what he says,” I muttered back.

“Good for you, babe.  I have to go, but I’ll see you in a few, Gin.  Bye!”

I muttered my goodbye, placed my cellular back in my purse, and rested my forehead in my palm.  My sister was something else.  I grabbed my keys from the lock, opened the door, and slipped myself inside.  I flung my purse across the passenger’s seat, started my car, and was on the road in seconds.

I loved living with my sister, but sometimes I would get lonely.  My ex-husband, Harry (yes, I finally started dating the Boy who Lived!) and I both made a mutual agreement after our…loss, that I would be better off alone.  He and I both agreed we needed different things, and he didn’t need me moping about everyday.

I came to a stop a block before my house, at a stoplight, reminiscing about memories past.  My son, Sam, had been my loss.  I remembered the day I let him go, and I have kicked myself so many times about my bad judgement.

“Mom!  Mom!  You gotta catch up!” Sam yelled, his backpack bouncing upon his back.  He turned his head and motioned me forward with his hand.  I chuckled and quickly followed him, watching him twist and turn throughout the halls of the airport.

He beckoned me towards the gate of the plane, and I scooped him into my arms before he could run into the plane.  I kissed him all over.  His cheeks, his nose, his eyes, his forehead, his head, and his ears.  He jokingly complained I was embarrassing him.  I let him down, giving him one last kiss before he ventured out towards his death.

Another tear escaped my eye as I remembered my last few moments with him.  I was so carefree, so fun-loving just a year ago.  Then everything changed.

I realized I was at my home, and quickly parked my car.

“Lauren?” I called as I entered my home, throwing my jacket across the couch.  I took in the heavenly scent of pasta and meat sauce, my baby sister’s specialty.

“Hey Gin.  Dinner’s just about ready!  Come in and get settled!”  I cracked a small smile, and walked towards the entrance of the kitchen.

My eye, however, was caught by the picture sitting on my dining table.  It was of me, Lauren, and Sam, when he was seven, or at least it was supposed to be.  Instead, it was just me and Lauren sitting there, smiling and waving.

My eyes narrowed and I snatched the picture up, storming into the kitchen.  “Is this your idea of a joke?” I spat.  She looked up from the contents of a pot she was stirring, and her eyes darted to the picture in my hand.

“What are you-“ I pressed the picture into her face.

“You think you can erase my son from my life?  Like he was never there?  The hell with that!”  I slammed the picture onto the floor, turning sharply.

“But-“ she started uncertainly, but that was all I heard.  I stalked back into the living room, seized my coat, and fled out the door while attempting to put it on.  I wrapped it around me nice and snug, but it didn’t seem nearly as cold as it was before.  I stalked across the street, making a beeline for the park that my son used to play in when he was just a tot.

I opened the gate; it made a loud, screeching, metal-hitting-metal type sound.  I was surprised to see, as I drew near to the swings, that I was not the only one there.  There was a man, about a year or two older than me I’d say, sitting there with a small bottle of fire-whiskey sitting in front of him.

“Hello,” I greeted him.  His head snapped up and I recognized instantly.  His daughter Emily had been in the same plane crash that had killed my son.

“Hello,” he greeted, standing and wiping himself free of dust.  “What are you doing here?”

“I just needed to get away,” I commented, wondering if he knew who I was.

“Do you know me?” he asked.

“Maybe,” I replied swiftly, sitting in the swing he had previously been occupying,

“Well, want to come back to my house?” he slurred slyly, walking away, but keeping eye contact with me.

“Goodbye, Draco,” I responded, disgusted at my old acquaintance’s behavior.

“Ah, You do know me.  That’s why you won’t come,” he said, winking.  I rolled my eyes, watching him swiftly walk away.

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About half an hour later, I retreated back to my apartment.  I stopped by Lauren’s room, watching her sleep for a few moments.

“Please don’t ask me to forget him,” I whispered softly, knowing she most likely wouldn’t hear me.  “I don’t want to forget.”  But my words were lost with the wind.

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The next morning, I woke up to find Lauren had left for work at a nearby wizarding pub.  I didn’t have work today, so I silently crept out of bed.  My fingers grasped the edge of my nightstand, trailing along the cherry wood.  I slid on a pair of jeans, and a white long-sleeved shirt.  I then brushed the knots out of my hair, as I did every morning, and slipped on a pair of socks.  I walked out of my room and swiftly crept to my son’s room.  Nothing in it had changed a bit since his death, and I mean nothing.

It was slightly dusty, but still, everything reminded me of when Sam was still alive.  When I could hold him in my arms, wipe away his tears and scare off all his fears.

I opened a large drawer in his bureau.  It was filled with magical photo albums and muggle videotapes of my child.  No one could touch them unless they knew the incantation, so I could always make sure my fondest memories of my baby were safe.

I picked up one of the old books .  “Massamamore,” I whispered, touching my wand to the lock of the book.  I opened it and turned to the very first page.

It was blank.

I turned another page, thinking that maybe the pictures simply fell out.

It was blank.

I started to panic, flipping through the pages one by one, lines of confusion etching themselves into my face.

They were all blank.  I ran back to my room and grasped my cellular phone, immediately dialing Lauren’s number.

“WHAT KIND OF SAICK CREATURE ARE YOU?” I screamed when she answered her phone.  “YOU CANNOT NOT ERASE HIM FROM MY LIFE!  I WILL NOT LET YOU!”  I hung up the phone, before she could say anything.  I paced around the floor of my bedroom a few times, my kitten Ameilia watching my peculiar behavior. 

I was suddenly startled as my house door slammed shut.  I sprinted to the staircase, standing at the very top of the steps, watching my sister walk into the room with a man I knew very well: Albus Dumbledore.

“Ginny!”  she sighed with relief when she saw me.  “Come down here, we have talking to do!”

I silently crept down the stairs, unnerved by the fact that they were watching me very intently, indeed!  Lauren motioned for Albus to sit in one of our living room chairs, and he did so not before offering each of us a fireball, his new candy obsession.  I declined though, too nervous to eat.

“Lauren, why are you trying to erase my son?” I pleaded with her, a fiery gleam in my eye.

“That’s just the thing, Ginny,” she responded quietly.  “You have no son.”

A/N: Part one of The Forgotten!!!!  Update probably later tonight peoples!  I love my public!

P.S. Review if you dare! Muahahaha!