Disclaimer: I own none of these characters. And I highly doubt I'll invent any, because I have no reason for doing that… so you can safely say that none of these characters, settings or things belong to me. They are property of a certain J.K. Rowling, and whomever she decides can share them. Which is, unfortunately, not me.
Spoilers: Books 1-5.
Pairings: H/Hr, with one-sided R/Hr (on the part of Ron, of course), and eventual R/L and N/G. Unless something in my plans changes, which I highly doubt, since I actually have it pretty much planned out for once. First time for everything…
Summary: The final battle leaves Voldemort destroyed, Hermione comatose- and Harry with no memory of her whatsoever. As she lies unconscious, conflicting stories from every side make a confused Harry unsure about whom to trust- and will Hermione be able to deal with things when she finally awakes? H/Hr, one-sided R/Hr, with eventual R/L and N/G.
A/N: Well, lookie here, I finally came up with a new idea. And it's a series this time! Whoopie. Thanks to the nice reaction to my first fic- it made me blush somewhat. Anyway, this idea might be a bit… off the wall, but things like this will never leave me head until I've tried them out and seen a reaction… so here it is. I guess you could call the plot a cross between Harry Potter, and the movies Memento and Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind (both of which are big favourites of mine, so watch 'em). I steal things. I even stole the title, which comes from a Travis song. The lyrics don't really fit, but the title does. Anyway, I'm rambling… read and review, and depending on a reaction, I'll continue or not. Flames are welcome, because it often gets quite cold in this house. Oh, and this hasn't been proofed besides by me… so sorry for any mistakes I missed.
Love Will Come Through Chapter 1: Gone
His hand rested on the cold stone of the windowsill, staring out at the dark woods, which glowed under the blue moonlight. The moon was perfectly round, and he heard a faint howl from the woods, making birds fly up from the branches toward the gleaming lake. He frowned to himself, pulled the thinly paned window closed, and turned back to watch over this girl- woman- that he apparently knew so well.
He pale hands, not matching the skin on her rosy cheeks, lay above the sheets, her arms hidden by thick black school robes, which looked the same as his own. Her eyes were tightly shut, but her face was soft and smooth, a delicate creamy skin glowing in the light making ghostly shadows across the room. Her face was framed by sleekly shined hair, which, he noticed with interest, was starting to become frizzy in places, as though reverting to it's normal state.
She laid silently, unmoving- not even her eyelashes flickered. He ran a hand through his messy black hair in frustration, wishing someone would explain to him what was going on.
His last memory, before being here, was of a flash of violent orange light, directed at the heart of a tall, white-skinned man who's eyes were red slits. Bodies of people seemed to lie all around them, but he remembered hearing someone fall to the floor behind him. A second before his own wand had set the jet of light, Voldemort- for he recalled this… person as being he- had flicked his own wand, although it had seemed to have no effect. And then the man had fallen himself, and Harry, exhausted, had fainted himself, only to wake up in the school hospital wing with a woman he barely recognised talking to him as though he'd been there twenty times this year already, lying in a bed next to this girl, who he was apparently supposed to know.
He had told Ron- for he remembered this fiery red head as being his best friend, although he suddenly found memories to back this up lacking- that he had no idea who the girl was, and Ron, eyes wide, had rushed from the room, and had been gone ever since. Leaving Harry utterly bewildered, being given the charge of looking over the girl, who was no lying comatose, while Madam Pomfrey- for this was her name, he had finally remembered- searched for any sort of cure. Every now and then she would return, mutter words over the girl while waving her wand, then sigh and return to her office.
Harry, still bewildered over the girl in the bed, had watched the sun set slowly as he waited for Ron to come back, every now and then glancing at the girl in the bed, who hadn't moved an inch. No one would tell him what was going on- there was no one to tell him.
As he looked away from the girl again and his gaze moved back to the window, he heard the door at the other end of the room click open, and he swivelled around, seeing Ron trailing behind three adults- the first he vaguely remembered to be Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher; the second, a greasy, sallow-skinned man he knew as Snape, who glared at him, though Harry had little idea of why; and the third, the auror Tonks, who today wore dark black hair and dark blue robes, looking surprisingly normal.
"How are you, Harry?" asked Tonks, as McGonagall conjured four chairs out of mid-air, and they all sat down; Ron looking extremely worried, and avoiding Harry's gaze.
Harry shrugged. "Fine. Can you tell me what's going on?" he asked pointedly, deciding it was best to get straight to it.
They all looked around at one another, with the exception of Ron who just stared at Hermione's frozen hand. Tonks grimaced, Snape looked merely bored, and McGonagall straightened up in her chair even more than Harry thought was possible and stared at him.
"Do you remember where you are?" she finally asked, surprising Harry.
"What's that got to do with anything?" he snapped, immediately regretting his rudeness as she stared even more forcefully at him.
Snape rolled his eyes. "Just answer the question, Potter, we don't have all night."
Harry glared at him; it was obvious this man loathed him, and he was starting to tell the feeling was mutual. "Hogwarts," he replied, looking away from Snape.
McGonagall didn't make any movement. "Do you know who we are?"
Harry fought the urge to roll his eyes. "You are Professor McGonagall, Transfiguration teacher; Professor Snape, Potions teacher; Tonks, metamorph; and Ron, Weasley, my best friend."
"Ex best friend," Ron muttered, and Harry frowned. McGonagall ignored Ron and looked back to Harry.
"Who is the headmaster of Hogwarts?" she asked.
"Dumbledore," Harry answered immediately. He frowned as they all looked between each other again. "What?"
"Dumbledore died a year ago, Harry," replied Tonks, looking worried. "Don't you remember, you and Her-"
"Thank you, Nymphadora," McGonagall said quickly, cutting her off and making her growl quietly in annoyance. "Harry, I am the headmistress of Hogwarts now. Voldemort killed Dumbledore a year ago. You were there," she added, looking immensely worried.
Harry stared at her. "Well, why don't I remember then?" he said, panic rising in his voice. "Why do I barely remember any of you? Why do I know Ron is my best friend, yet I have barely any memories of him? Why can I hardly remember anything that's happened over the last two years?"
Snape rolled his eyes again, and McGonagall sighed. Harry closed his mouth, glancing at Ron- who was still staring intently at the bed sheets.
"Harry, do you know who this is?" McGonagall asked quietly, gesturing at the girl in the bed. Harry shook his head, frowning.
"Should I?" he asked in bewilderment. Ron had stopped playing with the bed sheet and was looking at him incredulously. "What?" he asked again.
Even Snape was looking disconcerted now. McGonagall looked as though she was trying to speak, but Tonks got there before her.
"Harry, don't you even know her name?" she pressed, looking oddly desperate.
Harry sighed. "No. Anyone going to tell me, or do I have to guess?" he said sarcastically.
Tonks stared at him. "Harry, I… I…"
Ron cut her off, surprising everyone. "Harry, her name is Hermione. She's been your best friend since first year, and your girlfriend for the last year. You're desperately in love with her, she with you, and you've been practically ignoring me because you spent every bloody second with her. She was with you when you fought Voldemort- she's been by your side for so much of your time here that most of your memories here are gone because she was in so many of them."
Harry gaped at him. Snape was looking like he'd never seen Ron in his life before, and even McGonagall was looking shocked.
"You mean… I love her? But I don't even know who she is! I think I'd remember her if I loved her, don't you?" he said, looking up at McGonagall.
She shuffled uncomfortably. "Harry… just before you cast the spell to destroy Voldemort, did he… did he do anything?"
Harry shrugged. "Well, I heard a thump behind me- I suppose that was her?- then he sent a jet of white light at me, but it didn't do anything…" he trailed off, staring at her.
"Harry… that was a memory charm. Voldemort focused on all your memories of Hermione, the woman you love… and took them all away. It was probably the worst thing he could have done to you. Besides killing you, of course, but you were in control. He knew he was gone… so wanted to ensure he didn't leave you… unscathed."
Ron was staring determinedly at the floor, and Harry gaped at McGonagall. "So… I knew her? I loved her? And I… I don't remember? Any of it?"
McGonagall brushed a tear from her eye. "Apparently not," she whispered.
"I thought you could break memory charms," Harry said quietly, staring down at the girl on the bed, who he had known so well. He couldn't believe that this girl had been his best friend for seven years, his girlfriend- and he couldn't remember her at all.
McGonagall sighed again. "You can- but Voldemort was one of the most powerful wizards ever, and it's practically impossible to break his spells. Besides, breaking them can cause severe damage to your brain- don't you remember Bertha Jorkins?"
Harry nodded, remembering being questioned by Dumbledore after he had returned from the maze, remembering Cedric's limp body, remembering Crouch… "So… what? If she ever wakes up, she'll remember, won't she? She'll know everything, but I won't. What I supposed to do? I can't go on like I remember, because I can't. I don't even know what her voice sounds like…" His brow furrowed. "How do I know you're telling the truth? How do I know that we were together?" he said in an accusing tone.
Snape rolled his eyes and began to speak, but was cut off by Ron. "Look in your inside pocket," he said quietly.
Everyone watched as Harry reached inside the inside pocket of his robes, and pulled out a circular golden picture frame. He looked at the picture in amazement.
It was him, standing in the snow with a wide grin on his face- and next to him, it was her… Hermione, with an equally wide grin, snowflakes smattered over her hair, and a hand around his waist. He watched, transfixed, as in the picture, he turned and kissed her lightly on the lips, and she closed her eyes as she returned it happily.
Harry's eyes were wide with tears as he lowered the picture and stared at Ron. "It's true," he whispered. "But… why can't I remember? Why don't I remember her at all? Why did this have to happen to me?" he shouted, making Snape roll his eyes again.
Tonks stood up. "Harry, calm down. We'll… we'll work through this. But… please, trust me when I say that you did love her, very, very much."
Snape stood up. "I have to go," he said suddenly, and without another word swept from the room. Harry swore he heard him mutter something about 'stupid lovesick teenagers' before the door closed behind him.
Harry looked back at Tonks. "So… every memory of her is gone?" he asked.
McGonagall nodded. "Even the ones where she wasn't important- if she was there, the memory has gone. And because so much of your time was spent in her presence… quite a lot of your memories appear to be gone," she said sadly. Tonks looked at Harry in sorrow, and Ron kept his staring contest with the sheets up valiantly.
"So what am I supposed to do?" Harry asked. "If I can't remember-"
McGonagall cut him off swiftly. "Harry, we can't break the memory charm. But we might be able to rebuild some of the memories- the ones you shared with someone else. Ronald, Ginny and Neville have all offered to help you remember- we can use a Pensieve occasionally, so you can view those thoughts- and they'll talk to you, about what you can't remember. But obviously, the best person to help you remember is Hermione herself- but until she wakes up, you'll work with Ronald, Ginny and Neville, and… well, we'll see what happens." She stood up, but turned back before she reached the door. "I'm sorry this had to happen to you, Harry. I saw what you two had… and that's a horrible thing to lose."