The Last Kefsen by Jardyn39
Chapter 4: Memories
"I should introduce myself, my name is Harry Potter. Who are you?"
Harry felt pretty stupid saying this to Hermione. He wondered how she would react.
"Well, I must say, I thought it would take you much longer to figure me out!" she said smiling.
Placing the vase gently on the bedside table and holding out her hand she continued, "My name is Jen, and I took this form from your memories. I can only assume the shape of females and frankly, there was not a lot of choice."
"My memories?" asked Harry shaking her hand. Jen looked, sounded and acted exactly like Hermione. And yet.
"Yes. Everything here is from your memories. Do you like the room? It took ages to find the wallpaper! I had to settle for that sample you covered your history textbook with when you were in Primary School!" Jen said brightly, looking around. "It was much easier when you were asleep. I knew at once when you were awake because of what appeared next door a moment ago."
"What did you mean not a lot of choice?"
"Well, I suppose you had better come and see," and with that Jen crossed back to the door and beckoned Harry to follow.
Harry stood and pulling on a dressing gown draped over the end of the bed, he followed.
He was standing in a large high rectangular room that had many rows of timber shelves on three walls from floor to ceiling. On the far wall was a large ornate fireplace with a roaring fire. The wall appeared to be covered entirely with gilt framed pictures and photographs. In the middle of the room were two large red leather comfortable looking settees facing each other, a large timber writing desk, a large plain dining table and a small coffee table. The only door lead back to the bedroom and there were no windows. The floor was covered with a rich burgundy carpet and lanterns hung from the plain white ceiling.
Like the bedroom, the air smelled fresh and comfortably cool. He looked behind him. The door from the bedroom had gone. There were only shelves like the rest of the rear wall. He looked down and realised he was now wearing the jeans and tee shirt he had when he arrived at Grimmauld Place.
A movement across the ceiling caught his eye and Harry thought he saw, for just a moment, a shadow that looked like a large pair of eyes with half moon spectacles looking down at him. When he looked again properly there was nothing there except indistinct shadows.
Harry looked back to Jen and asked, "Did you make this room too?"
"Oh no," she replied smiling, "this room was all your making."
"No doors?"
"You won't have any problem leaving when you're ready, I expect. Come and sit."
Harry walked over and sat at the end of one of the settees nearest the fire. Harry could see the pictures clearer now. They were all pictures of the people in his life. A lot of small framed pictures seemed to be jostling for a position but hanging in pride of place directly over the fireplace was a large ornately framed painting that was completely blank. Immediately surrounding the large fame were medium sized frames with moving paintings that appeared to be of all the people he felt closest to, the Weasleys being prominent. Harry noted that these were not just people: Hedwig, Fawkes, Crookshanks and Buckbeak were all there too.
Away from the central group of larger paintings hung a single large painting with a black frame. This was a painting of his parents who were holding each other and were quite still.
Another painting of the same size caught his eye. The frame changed colour constantly, perhaps reflecting Harry's own raw emotions. The painting showed Sirius the man sitting with his dog self, both looking away from him. The frame was moving, almost imperceptibly slowly, towards his parent's painting.
Harry felt Jen sit on the other end of the settee and turned back to face her. She was sitting cross legged facing straight towards him, clearly waiting for his full attention.
"I am the Dyvarow Pensevyges Jentyl Blejen of the Dyagha-Toellwisk Tribe," said Jen and seeing Harry's eyebrows raise continued "Dyvarow Pensevyges Jentyl Blejen," she said slowly, "is old Cornish and literally means Immortal Princess Graceful Flower and Dyagha-Toellwisk means fearless and disguised. Just call me Jen."
"It's nice to meet you, Jen," Harry said smiling. He was a little relieved because he knew he would have difficulty remembering her full name. "Are you really an immortal princess?"
"We do live a long time, Harry, but no we are not truly immortal. And no, I'm not a princess. It's just a name," Jen finished looking away with a slight blush that made Harry wonder if she was telling him the truth.
"You, well actually, we appear to be in a coma, Harry. What you see, hear and feel around you is just a representation. I think your mind needed something real to hang onto, to make sense of things, while you recover."
"I'm imagining all this, and you?"
"You're imagining all this," Jen said smiling and extending her arms out, "but I'm not imaginary. What do you remember of our little encounter?"
Harry thought back and then suddenly remembered.
"You? You attacked me! You are that acromantula that attacked me!" Harry said angrily.
"I'm not an acromantula, but I did attack you. You surprised me and I attacked out of instinct, I suppose. I'm sorry, Harry," and before Harry could respond Jen leapt from the settee and yelled, "Argh! SORRY? Me? How weird is that? WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?"
Harry waited a moment for Jen to calm down before asking, "Er, okay you're sorry. Why is that weird?"
Jen was pacing the room now, quite distracted, just as he had seen Hermione do on countless occasions. She suddenly stopped and looked at Harry with a rather cold expression.
Harry felt a little unnerved to see Hermione look at him like that.
"Harry, I am a Kefsen not an acromantula. We are predators. I hunt, kill and consume any living thing. I am ferocious. I fear no creature. I show no mercy. I do not apologise! I do not say sorry!" Jen announced regally, advancing slowly on Harry.
"I'm sorry, but I've never heard of a Kefsen before. So what happened then?" he asked.
"Well," Jen said composing herself and brushing back Hermione's long bushy hair, "as I said I'm not an arachnid. I only took that shape because they are the only other living creatures I've had any contact with for a while."
"How long were you locked in that room?" asked Harry, almost afraid to hear the answer.
"I don't know. Many years I think. I almost got out once, several years ago, but I was caught and the wards that imprisoned me were increased. I've been so lonely," Jen said sadly.
Harry was horrified to think that any creature could be treated so cruelly.
"You can change shape?" Harry said quickly as Jen was clearly upset at being reminded of the time she spent alone.
"I could, but I was very weak when you found me. I've gradually forgotten the other forms I used to enjoy taking. It's much easier with a living animal to copy from."
"So are you like a boggart?"
"A BOGGART?! How dare you! A boggart is a miserable creature that uses its crude shape shifting abilities purely as a defensive mechanism," Jen said indignantly.
"I'm sorry! I didn't mean to offend you!" said Harry quickly.
"Well," Jen said a little coyly, "actually we are distantly related and actually my recent existence has been as miserable as a boggart." She gave a small embarrassed smile.
"I attacked you simply because I thought you were one of my captors. I wanted revenge. I think that is what kept me alive all these years."
Harry nodded in understanding.
"When I attacked you, I read your mind. I was looking for a way to defeat you. I don't look for fears like a boggart. Fears can be overcome. Fears are fine for a boggart because all it wants is for you to run away. As I wanted to kill, I needed something more," continued Jen, and Harry thought how strange it was to her such words in Hermione's voice.
"Of course, I found your weakness, didn't I? Do you remember?"
Harry nodded slowly as he recalled the moment the figure appeared.
"I managed to change form, weak as I was, and started to attack you. Then something strange happened. You attacked me back!"
"Me? How?" asked Harry in surprise.
"No idea. It was something, kind of an energy, from within you. I suspect," pondered Jen "that it was an autonomic defence. Strange."
"What's strange?"
"Well, you have no memory of learning how do defend yourself like that, at least no memory that I could find. I think that either a charm was placed on you to defend you or …"
"Or what?" he prompted.
"Well," continued Jen, "when I looked at you the moment before I attacked, looking at your soul I suppose, I saw something. I've never seen it in anyone else, but it was like you had a shadow. Like another soul, but that can't be right, can it? I also got the impression it was constricted by something. Even so, it still managed to defend you."
"How could I be constricted?" asked Harry intrigued and he thought how Jen appeared to have more in common with Hermione than just her identical looks.
"No idea, but it is rather useful. If you or your shadow could retaliate automatically very time you got emotional, how many innocent casualties would there have been?"
"Fair point," conceded Harry. "So have you been through all my memories?"
"Oh no, I just sort of dipped in, you know. Do you remember the form I took when I changed?"
"Let's not talk about that right now," Harry said defensively.
"Okay. But I think we do need to discuss what we are going to do about your memories."
"What's wrong with my memories?"
"Well they are a bit disorganised aren't they? Honestly, I'm surprised you can remember anything! We should make time to do some revision too! You know you could have done much better in your History of Magic OWL and I think we should get ready in case you need to do a re-sit," Jen said quickly, and Harry was then positive it wasn't just Hermione's appearance that she had adopted.
"Revision?" Harry asked incredulously. "I am on my holidays, you know? Besides, I might just decide to stay in a coma. It's not like I've got much to wake up for is it?"
"But you wouldn't miss the start of term, Harry!"
Harry smiled at her shocked expression. He thought that was a very Hermione thing to say.
"Besides," Jen begun as she looked up to the large painting over the fireplace. Harry followed her gaze and was not too surprised to see a familiar figure amble into the frame and beam down at him. "You have no secrets from me now."
"Come on you," Jen said going over to the bookshelves which had a haphazard assortment of files and box folders. "Let's make a start. While we're sorting these out you can talk to me about Sirius. You'll soon feel better, I promise."