Worth the Effort

Chapter 1

Hermione stared at the promise ring on her finger. She wouldn’t cry; she couldn’t. He promised to come back to her, if it was at all possible. He promised to exchange this ring for an engagement ring. She’d tried to talk him into marriage before the showdown they all knew he would face. He’d refused.

“I know you want to get married, love. I’d like nothing better. I just can’t make promises to you that I don’t even know if I can keep. I won’t do that to you. I love you so much, Hermione. You are the only one I’ll ever love. Just please don’t ask me to do this…not yet…”

She truly thought she’d feel something when he died, like a piece of her heart being ripped from her chest, yet she hadn’t. That was why she fought so hard against the Ministry for wanting to declare him legally a war casualty. She couldn’t feel him dead. She’d never lost someone close to her, so maybe you didn’t feel it when they died. At the urging of her friends and family she’d finally relented.

All through the funeral, she stared at the casket, knowing it was empty….just like her heart. She never heard any of the service, she just sat and stared. It wasn’t until Ron gently tugged her arm that she realized it was over. It’s been two months since he disappeared. She’d never known a mere sixty days could last so long. Even though it was still only afternoon and a host of people were downstairs, she fell into her childhood bed, only to jump right back out and run to the loo due to nausea.

“Poor thing,” clucked Mrs. Weasley as she looked toward the ceiling to indicate the woman upstairs. “She just isn’t adjusting to the loss well, is she?”

“I worry about her,” Ron replied. “She’s tough, though. With a little more time, she’ll be fine.”

“I wonder about that…” said Mrs. Granger. “Normally I’d agree with you, but the hold that boy has on her. Since she started that school, he’s been in her head, and then later her heart. I just don’t know…”

Arthur Weasley popped his head into the fire. “Ron!” he called. “Remus Lupin has regained consciousness. He’s ready to talk. We’ll finally find out what happened that night and find closure with this one way or another!”

Ron raced up the stairs to find the other remaining third to their trio bent over the toilet. “Hermione, are you alright?” he asked gently.

“I’m not sure anymore,” she said evenly, laying her head against his shoulder. “I can’t eat. I can’t sleep and when I do I have these awful nightmares. I’ve been getting sick every day for a week now and I can’t seem to care about anything.” She raised her head and looked him in the eye. “I just want to know what happened to him. I get these strange dreams where I see him. I see him and he screams to me and calls my name. I just want some closure. I need to know one way or another. Ron, I can’t go on like this…”

Ron patted her on the back a bit and stroked her hair. “I came up to tell you that Remus is awake and wants to talk to us. Did you want to come along?”

“Of course!” she said. “Let me just freshen up a bit and we can go.”

The couple entered the dungeon of St. Mungo’s Hospital for Magical Maladies and Injuries and found where Remus was being kept. He’d been unconscious since that fateful night and due to his lycanthropy, he has been sheltered in a secure room in the furthest section of the hospital.

Upon entering, Hermione saw that Lupin looked sicker than ever. She sped over to the bed and engulfed him a tight hug.

“Let me look at you…” Lupin said weakly. “You haven’t been eating…or sleeping. He wouldn’t want this, Hermione. You have to join the land of the living. I’ve been there; I know.”

“What happened to him, Remus? Is he truly gone?”

“I’m sure he is…I’m sorry.”

For the first time since the battle tears rolled down her cheeks. “What happened?” she asked not sure if she really wanted to know.

“I didn’t hear all that was said. Harry and Voldemort’s wands were locked together in a duel. They were shouting at each other. Harry tried to taunt Voldemort into possessing him, like he had at the Ministry. Voldemort refused. Harry called him a pathetic coward and taunted him a bit more harshly. Voldemort took possession of him and Harry pointed his wand at his own chest. He told Voldemort that all of the horcruxes had been destroyed and that he was next. “I shouted, ‘NO!!!’, but Harry just looked at me and smiled. Then he…then he….” Remus’ voice cracked with emotion. “He cast the Avada Kadavra on himself…” Remus sobbed loudly for a long time holding Hermione as she did the same. As the sobbing faded to silent tears, Remus went on, “I raced over to him as he fell to the ground. He seemed so very lifeless before they both disappeared…I found both wands and Harry’s charred glasses where he’d fallen, but there were no bodies…I’m so sorry, Hermione. I wish I’d have done more, but I can’t even think what I could have done…”

“You did your best, I’m sure, Remus. He could be very stubborn when he wanted.”

Remus nodded, “What about you?” he asked her. “Are you going to be all right?”

“I think so,” she answered. She stood silently for a few minutes. “He’s dead,” she told herself resolutely. As if steeling herself, she stood from the bed. Ron had stayed quiet through the ordeal, but his face showed signs of recent crying as well.

“Are you ready to talk to the Aurors, Remus?” asked Ron. “I can have my father tell them to give you a bit…”

“Send them in,” he answered with a sigh. “Best get it over with…”

Hermione was silent on the way home. When they reached her flat, she begged off further conversation without having to lie about being exhausted. Ron was hesitant to leave her alone, but she convinced him that she’d be fine.

Once he left, she allowed all of the emotion she’d kept a tight rein on loose. After casting a silencing charm, she raged at Harry as she picked up one item after another and heaved it across the room. By the time she was finished the top floor flat was nearly obliterated. Large holes were left in the walls that, without the charms she’d cast, would have granted? passersby the ability to view the tornado inside. Between the accidental magic that escaped her and the damage she willingly caused, there was nothing left intact.

Spent from her outburst, she lay down surrounded by debris and fell asleep. The nightmare began almost immediately.

Harry sat in a rusty metal cage. Upon seeing her he rose. “Hermione, love, you found me!” he said with a grin. “I knew you would…” The grin faded as she came toward him.

“What are you waiting for?” he asked strongly. “Let me out…” She stood silently in place staring at him. “I’m not mad, Hermione, I promise you that, just let me out and we can talk...”

She remained where she was unable to move, to speak, to react in any way. His temper rose as he beat at the metal bars. “LET ME OUT! HERMIONE!! I’M NOT MAD!! YOU FOUND ME SO LET ME OUT!!” He repeated this over and over and she was frozen in place with her eyes streaming.

Ron heard the whimpers as he approached her door. He Apparated inside. Seeing the destruction, he began to search for her quickly. He followed the sound to her bedroom. “Hermione, love, wake up…” he coaxed reaching for her.

She gradually opened her eyes and looked up at her friend. “He’s really gone?” she asked softly.

“Yes. He is,” Ron agreed. “Are you going to be okay?” Ron looked around at the devastation.

“I need to talk…” she said.

“You talk while I listen and see if I can put this back to rights,” he said as he glanced around.

“I’ll probably destroy it again…” she said with resignation.

“Well, then I’ll fix it again. It’ll be less enjoyable if everything’s already trashed…” he teased gently.

She smiled a small smile and sat up. “I dreamt about him again…” she said at last.

“I could tell,” Ron answered. “What was the dream about?”

Hermione relayed the all of details of the dream. “What does it all mean?”

“Well…Trelawny’s Dream Oracle would most likely tell you that you are going to suffer a disfiguring accident, but I think you just need to let him go…”

“Don’t you think I’ve tried?” she asked.

“I would hope you have, but you’ve been so closed off…”

“I’m pregnant, Ron. I found out for sure this morning…”

“Oh, Hermione!” Ron exclaimed rushing over to hold her. “You didn’t have to worry on your own. I would’ve understood...I would’ve helped…”

“I wasn’t sure. I’ve suspected for a couple of weeks, but…with the funeral and everything else, I had to just…I don’t know…cope with everything before I told anyone.”

“Have you made any plans? Any decisions?” he asked stroking her hair.

“No, I don’t know what to think. On the one hand, I’m thrilled that there’s a piece of him going to be with me always, on another, I am furious with him for what he did…” Her hands waved as she talked. “Then again, I’m terrified about raising a child alone or if I even want to…also, I’m so confused I don’t know which way to turn…”

Ron kneeled down on one knee. “If you’ll have me, I’d like to marry you…We could build a life together and raise our family…”

“No!” Hermione stopped him. “I won’t do this. I made the decision to make love with Harry, when even he was hesitant. I may not know much but I know that I won’t raise a child in a loveless marriage…” She looked at Ron’s hurt face and she softened. “I didn’t mean it like that and you know it. I love you and you know that, too, but I’m not in love with you any more than you are with me. We can hardly be in the same room for ten minutes without arguing! I appreciate the offer, really I do. I’m touched that you’d make that sacrifice for me, but you and I both know that it wouldn’t work. Remember back in sixth year what a nightmare that was?”

Ron smiled. “You were mental then. Hell, we were all bloody mental that year!”

Hermione gave a small laugh. “True, but it did lead me to the happiest times of my life. If we hadn’t gone on our adventure with Harry, think of what we’d have missed out on. If that bastard hadn’t chosen the easy way out, then…”

Ron blanched. “You don’t really think that’s what happened, do you? You think he killed himself on purpose?”

Hermione shrugged. “What I do know is that he cast that curse. Even if he was making the ultimate sacrifice…well it didn’t turn out too well for his mum when she tried that, did it?”

“She allowed Harry to live. That was worth it, wasn’t it?” Ron couldn’t believe her cynicism.

She shrugged again. “I don't know,” she answered. “I want to believe that he had a wonderful plan that went badly, but I can't. You heard Remus. Harry smiled at him. He knew exactly what he was doing, I think.”

Ron stared at her disbelievingly. “You've got this all figured out, do you? Well, I think you're wrong there. I trust my best friend more than that."

"You can be naive, if you want, Ron. I begged him to let us go with him that last day. Why do you think he refused? Why do you think he was so adamant?"

"Hmmm," said Ron, "Let's think...maybe because, number one, he's got a 'need to play the hero' complex a mile wide and number two, in case you've forgotten, bloody You-know-who was there!"

"I'm well aware of that, Ron," she said exasperatedly.

"Well, my theory is that he, as usual, had some half-baked plan that didn't work out. I mean, think about it...he's beaten that curse before. He may have thought that he was immune..."

Hermione sighed heavily. "Maybe you are right. It makes sense, but…”

“But nothing,” said Ron. “Just have some faith.”

“I can‘t promise anything. Everything is so jumbled up. I can’t get past how desperately he didn’t want to get married and how rough things have always been for him. You can’t deny, if you were in his shoes, the thought wouldn’t cross your mind…”

“Cross, maybe,” said Ron. “Linger and become a plan? Harry? Never!”

“How do to you know that for sure?” she asked. “How do you know what he was thinking? Maybe he thought he’d seen enough people die that are close to him. You know he took Dumbledore’s death hard…not to mention Sirius…the others…”

“Yes, but he bounced back each and every time. He’s a survivor, Hermione. He may not talk about it, but he dealt with it his own way. He wouldn’t stuff it like that if there were any other way…”

“I think, like with so many other things, we’ll have to agree to disagree on this.”

They talked for many more hours, yet resolved nothing. Hermione swore Ron to secrecy about the baby until she was ready to deal with the idea. Ron again tried to convince her to marry him, which she refused.

“It’s late. You should get some rest…” he suggested.

“You don’t need to stay, Ron. I’ll be fine…”

“I’ll stay anyway. Maybe I can be of some help. Harry used to appreciate my presence when he had nightmares…”

Finally, she relented and lay down on her newly repaired bed and fell into an exhausted sleep.

The next morning, Hermione awoke early and got herself ready for work. “I’m going into the office for a bit, Ron. It’s been ages since I’ve been there.”

Ron grinned up at her from the sofa in her bedroom. “That’s my girl,” he said proudly.

**************************************************************************************************

In the two years that had passed since Hermione’s breakdown, Ron Weasley had become quite the businessman. Between helping Hermione and being busy growing his career, he’d left no time to cultivate other relationships. One sunny afternoon, he strode confidently into the restaurant where he was to meet his Muggle business associate. He found Steven Johansson immediately and approached the table. He greeted the man with a firm handshake. Sitting down, he quickly scanned the menu for something he recognized.

Looking across the table toward his associate to begin the meeting, he glimpsed an unmistakable face in the distance. “Harry!” he said breathlessly as he rose from his seat.

“Excuse me?” said Mr. Johansson in confusion.

Ron apologized to his colleague and returned to his seat. By some miracle he was able to negotiate favorable terms while his eyes never left the laughing raven haired man in the corner.

******************************************************************************************************

“So how is your first trip back into the real world, Trey?” his companion Teresa smiled.

“It’s a bit odd,” Trey answered. “I wonder if I’ve been here before, if I’ve got a place nearby…it’s…discomforting.”

Teresa laughed. “You’ll remember soon enough. Trey…I wanted to thank you for your help with Old Man McGinty. He doesn’t mean any harm. He just gets…”

“Confused?” Trey offered. “Well, I know all about that, don’t I? I’ve been a bit confused myself now and again….” Teresa smiled at him. “I didn’t murder that man. I mean, I would know that, right? I’d know if I’m a killer, wouldn’t I?”

“If we thought for a moment that you were a cold-blooded killer, you’d have never gotten the day pass. Until we get your memory back, we won’t know what happened to that man. It’s all so strange the way the two of you just showed up like that.”

“I wish I could remember…” he said sadly.

“I know you do, Trey,” she consoled. “We’re doing everything we can to help you…”

“Has no one asked after me or looked for me?”

“No one...” she answered. “I’m so sorry…”

Harry had had enough of talking gloom and doom. Changing the subject, he said, “So you want to hear the trick to getting Mr. McGinty to put his clothes back on?” At the nurse’s nod, he lowered his voice to a whisper, “He fancies Mrs. Campbell. I told him that he truly needed to bathe if he was wanted to impress her. He was mortified and just got dressed again…”

After several more stories of escapades at St. Joseph’s, Teresa asked flirtatiously, “What else should we do on your free day?”

“Fancy a walk?” he asked. “After being there for so long, I think I’d like to walk about and enjoy the freedom, even if it is only temporary.”

“Then a walk it is…” she answered.

After spending the afternoon window shopping, the couple returned to the Center. Trey thanked her for a lovely time and for the new trainers she’d purchased for him. “I know I’ve got money…at least I think I do. When I get my life back, I promise to repay you…”

“There’s no need,” she answered. “You’ve helped me often enough that they should just allow you to fill that empty post…”

“That won’t happen,” Trey answered sadly. “I’m still a patient. Even after I’m released, I’ll likely not be hired…anywhere. The headaches alone will put some people off.”

“They’ve been better with the medication, haven’t they?”

“Better, but still debilitating. See? I’ve been reading. I’m sure I’m just being impatient, but I hope they taper off soon. Besides, I’m so disorganized. I can’t find anything these days, it seems.”

Trey, listen to me…” she began. “I know the doctor has talked with you about this, but don’t be so hard on yourself. So, you’ve reached a plateau in your recovery. That doesn’t mean that you are stuck with things the way they are. You’ve made steady progress. Be proud of that. I know I am.” He watched as she closed his door and came toward him. She wrapped her arms around him and raised her face in expectation of a kiss.

Trey gave her a quick hug and turned away. “I can’t,” he said regretfully.

***********************************************************************************************************************

Ron Apparated back to his office and dropped off the forms and took the rest of the day off. He went immediately to the Ministry to see his father.

“Come in, son. To what do I owe the unexpected pleasure?” Arthur Weasley queried as Ron stepped into the room, his face ashen.

“It’s Harry, Dad…” Ron began.

Mr. Weasley looked at his son sympathetically. “Yes, it’s been difficult. I knew it would be hardest on you and Hermione…”

“I saw him…today…” Ron admitted.

“I’m sure you think you did, Ron. We see lost loved ones from time to time, but it turns out to be someone else.”

“It’s not like that, Dad. I really saw him. I know it was him!” Ron retorted.

“Tell me what happened…” said Mr. Weasley. “Start from the beginning and don’t leave out a single detail…” Ron told him about seeing Harry from across the restaurant. “And you are absolutely positive it was him…”

Ron nodded with a wide grin. “I’m sure of it.”

To Ron’s surprise his father didn’t look pleased. In fact, he looked distinctly displeased. “I must alert the Ministry,” stated Mr. Weasley. “Ron, it is very important to keep this to yourself.”

“I’m telling Hermione, Dad. She needs to know.” Arthur bowed his head as he knew there would be no dissuading his son.

“Please make sure it is of utmost importance that she not tell anyone. The Ministry will let you know when it will be no longer classified.” With that he opened the door and departed.

Ron was left in confusion as to why his father wasn’t happy that the man who he’d once called as good as a son was not dead. He gave his head a mental shake and went to find Hermione.

He Apparated into Hogsmeade and walked up to the school. He found Hermione in her office.

“Ron! What a pleasant surprise!” she said beaming. Then she saw the look on his face and sat down. “What is it? Is Andrew okay? Tell me!”

“Andrew is fine, but I did come to talk to you about something, though,” Ron began. “I had lunch today at a Muggle restaurant in London. I saw Harry, Hermione! He’s alive!”

Once again he was not given the reaction he‘d expected. She looked almost angry. “Oh, I see,” she said in a clipped tone. “Anything else?”

“Hermione, don’t you get it? The man you fell in love with and the father of your child is still alive! I’d think that garners a bit more than an ‘I see,’ doesn’t it?”

"I'm not sure that it does actually,” she said vehemently. "He's as dead to me as he ever was."

Ron looked at her incredulously. "You can't mean that..."

"I assure you that I do. He tried to off himself to get out of his responsibilities. You can't expect me to get excited that he's surfaced again."

"I thought we agreed that it wasn't on purpose and this proves it! He'd never have taken his own life, Hermione. He wouldn't!"

"I never agreed to anything other than to quit hearing about him. I have my reasons for believing otherwise, as you well know."

Ron pulled her into his arms in a friendly hug. "I just thought you'd want to know, love. I didn’t mean to upset you..."

"I'm not upset," she said evenly. "That would indicate interest on my part..." They talked about nothing of importance for awhile more before Ron took his leave with an agreement to stop by to visit Andrew another day.

Ron arrived at the Burrow late that evening in response to a request from his father. “What's up, Dad?" he asked upon arriving.

"Son, tell me again about seeing the Potter boy..."

"The Potter boy?" Ron asked confused. “What’s going on? Since when has he…”

“Ron,” his father interrupted. “I can’t discuss the particulars with you. I just need you to tell me again exactly what you saw…”

Ron related the story a second time. “Can you find him?” he asked.

“We’ve traced for his magical signature, but he apparently isn’t using magic. Of course this could just turn out to be someone who looks amazingly similar…”

“Dad, I told you. I saw the scar. It is him.” Ron slammed his hand down on the counter. Mr. Weasley looked at the ceiling as if willing his wife not to wake.

“I know that, son,” he whispered. “I just wouldn’t put it past the Dark forces to attempt a ruse like that. Send the Ministry on a wild goose chase in order to hide what they are planning.”

“It sounds as if you think that Harry might have some part in that…” Ron

“Can you prove he doesn’t? Ron, be reasonable. You know as well as I that we have to check out all of the possible options.” Arthur looked at his son, almost willing him to see his side of things.

“If you think that Harry would have anything to do with Death Eaters, then you are sadly mistaken. Look at it from another point of view. I saw how it bothered him that no one believed him that You-know-who had come back. Did he say ‘piss off’ to all of you then? No. Even I believed for a bit that he put his name in for the Tri-Wizard Tournament. When are we ever going to quit doubting him?”

“But, Ron…” interrupted his father.

“No, let me finish,” Ron answered. “He’s done more for our world than anyone and rather than, for Merlin’s sake, be a bit appreciative, you lot are ready to string him up again! I’m sorry I ever came to you with this. I thought, wrongly, I suppose, that you’d be happy he’s still alive.” Having said his piece, Ron left for home.

Ron had heard nothing more about Harry or anyone sighting him in the next two weeks. He’d attempted to get Hermione to soften her stance, as well, but gave it up as a bad job.

On Sunday, his father showed up at his door, pounding impatiently. Ron opened the door and his father rushed in. “Ron, I’m glad you are home. We’ve located Harry. He’s been in a Muggle mental institution. I just thought you should know that we are going to extricate him tomorrow.”

“So he is mad after all…” said Ron incredulously. “I need to tell Hermione…”

“I’m not sure that’s the best idea,” Arthur replied. “You know how she is…”

“She should still know. If he’s dangerous, like you think he is, then she needs to be aware.”

Hermione opened her door to see her frantic best friend on the other side. “Come in, Ron, and tell me what’s wrong…”

“They’ve found him, Hermione…” Ron panted.

“And I need to know this….why?” she asked with a derisive tone. “I’ve made my views very plain on this…”

“I think he’s dangerous, Hermione. He’s been in a Muggle mental ward for over two years! Even Muggles wouldn’t do that if there wasn’t something seriously wrong with him…”

“Well, aren’t you the loyal friend? What happened to ‘Just have some faith, Hermione,’? Did that all but disappear once the word, ‘mental’ was used?”

“I don’t know what to think anymore…I just don’t know…” Ron said with his head bowed.

Hermione raised his chin with her hand. “What I know is that I want some answers from him and I intend to get them. I still think he’s a coward and cannot be trusted, I still believe I deserve some answers…Are you coming with me?”

Ron shook his head. “I can’t, Hermione. I just can’t. I would rather remember him for who he was than some raving lunatic…”

“What if they’ve got it all wrong?” she asked softly. “What if the only reason he was there was that he was confused? Maybe he thought they were magical and started spouting off about wands and duels and people who turned into animals. That would qualify him a bed in a mental hospital in the Muggle world. Don’t you think?”

“You could be right, but I don’t want to take that chance…I’ll come with you, but, please, don’t force it.”

Chapter 2

The raven haired man struggled to open his eyes. His head pounding, he squinted to try to see his surroundings. Sweat plastered his clothing to his skin. He noticed he was face down, suspended. Something was preventing him from moving his arms …hands …legs …head. His glasses were shoved roughly on his face. All he could see was what looked like a hospital bed below him by about 20cm. He attempted to look over to see who was with him. A man’s tree trunk legs wearing what looked like a mint green uniform came into view. He tried with difficulty to turn his head.

“He’s waking,” stated green legs to someone else beyond the patient’s vision.

“Where am I?” the patient asked feebly. Tears formed in his eyes. His voice gained strength until he was shouting. “Please just let me go! I don’t know who you are! I didn’t kill anyone. Please!”

“You aren’t going anywhere until we get to the bottom of this, so just sit tight and answer our questions,” the burly man answered.

The patient gave a moan of terror before resuming his screaming, “I don’t know who you are! Please just let me go! Can someone help me?” Tears coursed down his cheeks.

“Is all of this necessary, Minister?” said another voice beyond the patient’s sight.

“Yes, Arthur,” stated the person referred to as Minister. “Until we get all of the facts and run the tests, we have to assume the boy is dangerous.”

A scuffle was heard from a distance. “Get her out of here!” called Green Legs rushing from his station beside the bed.

“Harry!” cried a feminine voice. “Let me see him!”

The patient didn’t know who ‘Harry’ was but he sensed this woman might be there to help him. “Ma’am? Please get me out of here!” he sobbed. “Help me, please. Just let me go! I’ll be good, I promise! Please, just let me go!”

He heard the woman’s shouts fade into the distance and realized that he was alone against these men. They weren’t going to allow anyone to come to his aid. He struggled against the bindings with all of his might and to his great surprise they disappeared. He fell to the bed with a thump. Having lost his glasses in the fall, he looked around as he cowered to the corner like a frightened child.

“He’s free!” shouted a blurry figure from across the room. He heard, “Stupify!” and the world faded into darkness.

“Let go of me!” shrieked Hermione as the burly Healer pushed her into an office. “Let me see him! What’s wrong with him?”

“Settle down, little lady,” the man said. “He’ll be fine. We just need some answers…”

“He was terrified! Don’t you know who he is?!!?” she retorted angrily.

“We know exactly who he is! He’s the man that disappeared with You-Know-Who! Surely you can see the seriousness of this!”

“Let me speak to Arthur Weasley! He’ll get Harry out of here!”

The man gave a hearty chuckle. “Who do you think brought him in?”

Hermione gasped and fled. Apparating quickly to Ron’s office, she collapsed on him in tears.

“Hermione? What’s wrong?” he asked gently, patting her on the back.

“It’s Harry! They’ve found him. They’ve got him bound at St. Mungo’s. He’s terrified, Ron! We’ve got to help him!”

“So they got him out, did they?” Ron growled.

“What is wrong with you?” Hermione knew she hadn’t gotten through to him the night before. She asked incredulously, “Honestly, Ron, you don’t think, after all these years, that Harry…our Harry, is a threat? That he’s dangerous?”

“Well, haven’t you changed your tune…Look, I don’t know what to think, Hermione. All I know is that he disappeared with Voldemort and showed up in a place for nutters. For all we know, he could be dangerous!”

“You really don’t believe that! Here’s what we’ll do. Let me see if your mum can watch Andrew, then you and I will go and see him. After all we’ve been through; we at least owe him that.”

“I know it’s a shock seeing him so upset, but I think you had it right the first time. We should keep our distance…”

Hermione grinned at him. “Is ickle Won-Won scared?” she teased.

“It won’t work, Hermione. I’m not going!”

“You are going or else you’ll never forgive yourself for letting me go alone!”

“Please don’t do it, Hermione…” he pleaded.

“Will you go with me?” she asked.

“Alright, I’ll go!” he shouted.

A balding man with hair a mixture of red and gray approached the bed. “Harry, we need to talk to you…”

“Who are you? Why am I here? Why can’t I move?” came the feeble response.

“We have you immobilized so that you cannot hurt yourself or anyone else. No one will hurt you. I just want to ask you some questions.” The patient nodded. “My name is Arthur Weasley. Do you remember me?”

“No. Do I know you?” the black-haired man replied. “Do you know me?”

“You don’t know?” asked the older man, “Maybe you’d better start at what you do know…”

“Why should I tell you anything?” scowled the patient.

“Harry, I’m here to help you…Just start at the beginning…I’m doing the best I can to get you out of here. I need your help to do that. First off, what did they call you? At the institution, I mean.”

“Trey,” he responded. “They called me Trey. I was officially known as John Doe number 3. That got shortened to Trey.”

“May I call you Trey, as well?” the older man asked. “Good…good, please call me Arthur.”

“Alright, then…Trey, what is the first thing you remember?” Arthur asked, his quill scratching against parchment.

Trey got a faraway look in his eyes as he spoke softly. Sweat trickled down the side of his face in spite of the chill he felt. “I woke up in a hospital. I was strapped to a bed. After I was examined, a shrink came to talk to me. He said that I was found in a park, naked and unconscious. He said I wasn’t alone. He said I was clutching the body of a middle aged man. He said I had been unconscious for ninety days. He explained everything to me when I woke up.”

“Did you remember anything about the past at that point?” Arthur probed.

“No, I didn’t know who the man was. They showed me pictures….pictures of him…me. I didn’t remember any of it.”

“What did the dead man look like?”

“Well, rather similar to me, I suppose. He had black hair...” Trey answered.

“Do you know anything about the scar on your forehead?”

“No, but I have a matching one on my chest…” Trey answered, pulling the neck of his gown down to reveal a very red lightning bolt-shaped scar below his neck.

Arthur smiled at him. “We’ll talk more later, Trey. Let me speak to the others and see about getting you out of here…Finite.”

Trey felt himself be released and sank back into the pillow. His mind racing, he fell into an exhausted, uneasy sleep.

Trey opened his eyes and found a woman looking at him. “It’s you…” he mumbled to himself.

“Hello…Trey. How are you feeling?” she asked.

“Who are you?” he said groggily.

“My name is Hermione …Hermione Granger. You and I went to school together. This is a friend of yours. His name is Ron,” she explained.

Trey looked over to see a red-haired man scowling at him and nodded. He felt the hatred from the man wash over him like a heat wave.

The woman spoke again. “Trey, is there anything that you can remember that could help us? We want to get you out of here and take you home. What I need you to do is answer all of their questions the best you can. Keep yourself as calm as possible, alright?”

“Hermione, don’t baby him…”

“Look at him, Ron. Can’t you see the fear in his eyes? Can’t you see his confusion?”

The other man scoffed. “What I can see is a bloody good liar and an actor!” he snarled as he swept from the room.

“Har…Trey,” Hermione said gently. “The Healers have some tests they want to run. They won’t hurt you. They just want to see what you can remember. Healers are the doctors in our world. They are here to help you.”

Trey nodded. He didn’t understand what ‘world’ she referred to, but the sound of her voice was soothing to him, so he would do as she asked.

After what seemed like hours later, the woman came back. Trey was physically and mentally exhausted. He wasn’t sure what those little sticks were that kept being pointed at him; he knew he didn’t like it, though. It wasn’t painful; in the way that static electricity isn’t painful. It felt like electrical charges all over his body. He felt as if he’d never screamed so much in his life.

“How are you feeling?” Hermione asked tenderly.

“Tired,” he croaked in a raspy voice.

“That’s to be expected,” she said with a light tinkling laugh.

“Where’s that fellow….?”

“He’ll be along in the morning,” she answered. “I have good news for you. The Healers have determined that besides your memory loss, there is nothing wrong with you. You can leave here in the morning! Isn’t that wonderful?” Trey nodded skeptically. “Don’t worry about anything, Trey. I’ll take you home with me and answer all of your questions there, alright?” Trey nodded again. “Now drink this. I’ll stay with you until you fall asleep.

He drank the unknown beverage in one sip. “Thanks,” he breathed as his eyes fell closed.

“Harry…Trey, please wake up.” Hermione whispered in the darkness. “We have to get you out before the press finds out you are here.”

Trey’s head felt oddly fuzzy. He had a strange metallic taste in his mouth. Reaching for his glasses, he looked at her. Her eyes were red with fatigue and worry. He didn’t know why the press would matter, but decided that since she was the nicest person to him since he’d arrived, he’d go along with what she said.

She turned toward the window as he dressed in strange clothing she’d brought him that miraculously seemed to fit perfectly. “I’m decent,” he called and she spun toward him.

She smiled. “Ron got us a Ministry car. He’s waiting downstairs.”

Trey was apprehensive about leaving with this Ron person who spent the evening scowling and grumbling at him, calling him a liar. Yet, he decided that if ‘Ron’ was his ticket out of this place, he’d take it.

“Where are we going?” he asked as they descended the stairs.

“Your…my house,” she corrected herself. “I’ll answer all of your questions when we get there.”

The couple exited the hospital. They met Ron looking sheepish beside a long black car. “Har…Trey…” he said. “Sorry about last night, mate. I should have believed you. It was just a shock at first, you know? I promise to try harder. Okay, mate? Good, now let’s get you home.”

Trey had never seen such a crazy driver and made a mental note to never ride with Ron again if he could help it. It seemed as if they were going the speed of light. Cars, bushes, even buildings seemed to jump away in fright as they sped down the motorway.

They reached a neighborhood that seemed a bit rundown. Hermione handed him a piece of paper and told him to think about what was written. Trey jumped back when a house appeared where none stood before. He was starting to believe that he was insane with all of the strange things that he’d seen since he regained consciousness.

Several people were there to greet him. Several called him ‘Harry’ and were quickly corrected by Hermione. He met Remus Lupin, who embraced him with tears in his eyes. An odd looking woman named Tonks shook his hand, and then, to his surprise, swatted him on the bum. Trey made a mental note to avoid her. The woman who was introduced as Ron’s mum hugged him so tightly he couldn’t breathe, and then walked away, mumbling about him needing to be fed. Trey looked at Ron, who rolled his eyes.

After the largest meal Trey ever remembered, not that it was a stretch, the group retired to the den to talk. Hermione spoke first. “Trey, I know you have many questions. Let me tell you what we know, then you can ask anything you’d like. I know all of this seems strange to you. Just, please hear us out…” Trey gave an uncertain nod.

“You lost your memory in a fight with an evil person, Voldemort, who was trying his damnedest to kill you and vice versa. We’ll first need you to verify that this is the dead man you showed up with in that park.” Harry looked at the picture of a young Tom Riddle. He felt fairly certain this was the same person as the doctors had shown him before.

Remus told Trey the story of his life, of magic and of his battles with Voldemort and his Death Eaters. Trey stared stony faced as he listened and tried to understand. Finally, Remus concluded and asked if Trey had any questions. Trey thought he had about a million questions, but didn’t know where to begin.

“By magic, you mean like a magician?” he queried.

“Not exactly,” explained Hermione. “A magician is a non-magical person, we know as a Muggle, who does sleight of hand. We are talking about real magic. Tonks, show him.”

Tonks screwed up her face and changed her facial features and her hair to look quite like Hermione. Trey gaped at her. She then hoisted Ron up by the ankle with a spell. Ron screamed, which gave Trey a laugh. “You are a wizard, Trey. You can do magic, too.”

“How?” he asked.

Hermione gave him a packet which contained another wooden stick, a watch and a few other personal items. “These are your things. We got them from the Muggle hospital. This is your wand,” she said pulling the stick out and handing it to him. Trey didn’t understand it, but the wand in his hand felt like he’d found a long lost friend.

His stupor was interrupted by Mrs. Weasley asking, “Where’s Andrew?”

“He’s staying at my mum’s tonight. I’ll fetch him in the morning,” Hermione replied. “I have a feeling this could take awhile…”

Trey looked at her. “Whose house is this?” he asked.

“It’s yours, Trey,” she told him.

Trey screwed up his face, “But it’s so dark. I lived here and…liked it?”

Remus laughed. “Well, you never got around to doing much actual living here yet. We’ll get into that whole thing in a bit.

Trey’s eyes grew wide as the fire roared to life and people stepped out of it. He recognized Arthur from the hospital. He didn’t recognize anyone else. When Arthur walked over and kissed his wife on the cheek, Trey was able to put together that Arthur was Ron’s dad and the girl was probably Ron’s sister. He appreciated the fact that finally something made sense to him. Everyone seemed so serious. He couldn’t believe they would be playing a huge joke on the amnesia patient. Although what they were saying seemed so unreal.

Remus continued. “Ron and Hermione are your best friends from school. You went to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.” Remus continued telling Harry about his years at school. Ron filled him in on the misadventures. Hermione told him about the Dursleys, where he spent his holidays. Trey listened intently. It sounded like a dark fairy tale. He found it very hard to believe that they were giving him his own life history.

Trey sat in his bed late that night thinking over all he heard. The one thing that he picked up was that without a doubt, beyond the people in this room, he was completely alone in the world. He missed Teresa, the nurse at the hospital that had befriended him. He was told that thanks to a few well placed charms, she wouldn’t remember him. Shivering, not with cold, but sheer panic, he huddled under the heated blankets. He remembered the familiar feeling when he held his wand. He wished he had that feeling again. He instantly sensed the wand slide into his hand and felt the tension ease from his body.

When he finally fell asleep, he dreamed of a woman, the woman he now knew as Hermione. He’d dreamed of her before not knowing who she was. In the dream she was leading him through a dense forest. A sense of fear and doom filled him. He awoke in a cold sweat as they reached the clearing. The vision faded away quickly.

At breakfast, Mrs. Weasley seemed to know what he liked without him saying so. Remus had said he would work with Trey on his magical abilities. Trey reminded himself that magic was normal to these people and tried to school his face to give him a calm exterior. Hermione winked at him letting him know he wasn’t as successful as he’d hoped. Trey asked more questions, but soon realized that the answers were confusing him as much or more than before he’d asked.

After he’d eaten, Ron took him to play Wizard’s Chess. Trey assumed he’d played before, since he’d caught on so easily. Ron’s sister Ginny seemed very nervous around him. He tried to figure that out however, he gave it up as a bad job. There was so much that he didn’t know.

Hermione left and returned with Andrew, who turned out to be a young toddler who looked just like his mother. Hermione took the baby into the bedroom to change him. Trey asked where the boy’s father was and was greeted with open stares. Trey cursed himself under his breath. Obviously, since they had just come through a war, the boy’s father must be dead. “I’m sorry,” he said. “I shouldn’t have asked.” He ducked his head in shame.

“It’s alright, dear,” said Mrs. Weasley. “You didn’t know. Hermione has refused to say who Andrew’s father is, so we can’t answer that question.”

Trey mulled over that thought. He couldn’t remember Hermione, except for in his dreams. He seemed to trust her and if this was a window to his past, he trusted her now. He rose to find her.

Locating her quickly, he said, “He’s a beautiful boy. You must be proud of him.”

Hermione smiled at her son warmly as he babbled away. She responded, “Yes, I am. I almost feel sorry for him, though. He had to get my bushy hair, the poor thing. If I don’t keep it cut short, it’s horrible. Isn’t it, Tiger?” She blew on his tummy as the boy giggled. “Want to hold him?”

Trey nodded and picked him up quickly, zooming him through the air like an airplane. Andrew laughed and chortled. The three went back downstairs, where Ron again seemed to be glowering at Trey with the boy in his arms. “Here let me take him,” said Ron with a distinctly false cheerfulness. Trey gave up the boy with confusion and put it down to something else he’d need to figure out.

Hermione took Trey aside into a deserted room. “How are you settling in?” she asked. “I know this is difficult for you, Trey. Is there anything I can help explain?”

Trey didn’t know how to answer her. There were loads of things he’d like an explanation on and didn’t know where to begin. “Ron,” he said at last. “He seems to be put out with me occasionally. What have I done?”

Hermione sighed. “You always did ask hard questions, Harry. Sorry, I mean, Trey…”

“It’s okay, apparently, my name is Harry, so I’d best be getting used to it…” he said with a smirk. “It may just take a bit before I answer. I’m used to Trey.”

“About Ron,” she said carefully choosing her words, “things are a bit complicated with him. He’s very protective of me, like you were. While you were gone, he wanted to protect me well enough for both of you.”

“He’s in love with you…” Harry replied. “Is that right?”

“Well, yes and no,” she responded. “He and I were together for a short time, while the three of us worked for the Order. We decided that we don’t work as a couple, to which you were greatly relieved.” She gave a brief chuckle. “It’s not that you were against us by any means. It’s just that, well, you may have noticed that Ron and I don’t exactly see eye to eye on a great many things. We bicker constantly anyway and it was worse when we were together. We embarrassed you profoundly as our arguments got more personal.”

Harry understood what she was saying. He’d witnessed the squabbling since he’d arrived. It comforted him to know that something that made him uneasy now was something that had always made him uneasy. It felt like a connection to a past he couldn’t remember. “What about the girl, Ginny, is it? What’s her story? She seems to regard me with contempt.”

Hermione let out a deep breath. “The truth is that you and Ginny had kind of a thing back in sixth year at school. You broke up with her before we left on our mission. I don’t know if you or she thought at the time that the break up was permanent, but she brought a date to her brother Bill’s wedding, and things were kind of strained between you after that. She doesn’t know what to say to you now. It’s all very complicated and confusing, even to those of us who can remember it.”

Harry smiled. “I’m glad I’m not the only one confused, then. Who else have I wronged and need to be wary of?”

“Well…I’m not really sure. I mean anyone can have someone angry at them for one reason or another. You’ve certainly made enough enemies on the Dark side, but the Death Eaters are all in prison. After you killed Voldemort, they gave themselves up in droves. There’s one thing we haven’t talked about with you yet. Harry, you are famous in our world. You’ve defeated the most evil wizard in history. When word spreads that you are alive, your life will be unrecognizable.”

“You mean like it is now?” he said with a smirk.

“Well, yes, I mean for example, next month there is a magical holiday. It’s Harry Potter Day. There are feasts, parades and parties in your honor. How do you think you’ll handle that?”

“I’ll ignore it, I suppose. I can hide out here, can’t I? Remus said this place was Unplottable.”

“That’s true, but the Ministry will want to award and honor you. They don’t take ‘No’ for an answer.”

“They’ll have to, Hermione. I’m not going to strut around and receive praise for something I don’t even remember doing…absolutely not. I may have been in a mental institution for the last…however long I was there, but I’m not a nutter!” Harry exclaimed, his voice rising.

“We’ll think of something. Don’t worry. Listen, I’ve got your old school trunk at Mum’s, want me to bring it to you? It might help to look over some of your own things…”

“Yeah, okay. That sounds like something productive.”

Lunch was a boisterous affair. Harry met Fred and George. He felt comfortable with them almost immediately. Mrs. Weasley kept giving them an evil stare, as if she expected them to do something horrible at any time. Ron called him over and explained about the joke shop and the tricks of the twins.

“I’ll keep my guard up, then,” Harry said.

“So, Trey…” said George.

“You can still call me Harry,” Harry replied with a grin. “I need to get used to it again, so just prod me if I don’t respond.” He looked over and saw tears in Mrs. Weasley’s eyes.

“Alright, then,” replied Fred. “Did you meet any interesting Muggles in that hospital you were in?”

“Besides the man that thought he was a chicken?” laughed Harry. “Not really. There was this one nurse who was very nice, but I really wasn’t allowed to talk to anyone else.”

“Was that the one that you went to the restaurant with?” asked Hermione with a fake casual voice.

“Yes, that was Teresa. How did you know I went on a day pass?” he asked in return.

“That’s the day that Ron saw you. That’s how the Ministry knew you were alive,” replied Mrs. Weasley.

Hermione excused herself, saying she had to get Andrew home and into bed. After giving Harry yet another scowl, Ron went with her.

“Did I say something wrong?” Harry inquired in amazement.

“No, dear,” replied Mrs. Weasley. “I think those two are just having a bit of trouble adjusting to the fact that one member of the trio had an adventure that they weren’t a part of. You three were so very close in school. Just give them some time. They’ll come around.”

Hermione stepped through the fireplace at her house. Her Mum came hurrying toward her. “Is everything alright, Darling?” her mother asked, seeing Hermione’s eyes red-rimmed and puffy. Ron followed. Seeing Hermione, he took her in his arms. She broke down on his shoulder.

Mrs. Granger stroked her hair as Ron held her. “Being silly…” Hermione croaked through her tears. “Feeling sorry for myself, when he doesn’t remember anything, much less us….”

“Plus,” added Ron, “it may not mean anything. I saw them talking and laughing in a restaurant. It’s not as if they were snogging or anything….Let me take Andrew up. You stay and talk to your mum.” Ron carried the boy up the stairs to get him ready for bed. Hermione smiled at him in thanks.

“He misses her,” Hermione stated sadly. “I can tell…”

“Well, of course he misses her,” concluded Mrs. Granger. “After your dad died, that was the loneliest feeling in the world, and I had you to keep me company. Imagine how he must have felt. He was injured, couldn’t remember who he was or anything about himself. I don’t find it at all surprising that he was friendly with and misses a nurse who talked to him and took care of him. She was all he had in the world.”

Hermione straightened her face into a look of determination. “You should have seen him, Mum. When I first saw him at St. Mungo’s, he sounded so very frightened. They had him all tied up like a criminal. He was crying and begging to be freed. I swore to him in my heart that I’d do anything he needs me to do, whatever it takes for him to be happy…’

“Well, keep in mind the consequences of ‘doing whatever he needs’,” her mother cautioned. “You need to think about what you need, as well.” Hermione rolled her eyes at her mother and retreated upstairs to oversee her son’s bedtime routine.

Ron was still waiting when she came back down. “Want to talk about it?” he asked.

“There’s really nothing to talk about. He sees us both as his friends from school. I have to keep that in mind. He doesn’t know about the rest and we can’t tell him. We have to keep it a secret until he’s ready.”

“You don’t think he and that nurse…” Ron added quietly.

“I don’t know,” she replied. “It’s something we have to think about. If they did have a relationship, then we need the Ministry to step in. Imagine if she is pregnant and can’t remember how…”

“I could talk to him, you know, man to man…” suggested Ron.

Hermione sighed heavily. “Just don’t push him. You know how he gets if he thinks he’s being interrogated.”

“I was thinking earlier,” Ron stated. “Maybe it’s crazy, but what if you were right…he simply doesn’t want to remember. We both know he didn’t have such a great childhood. His school years weren’t the best, either, with You-know-who after him…”

“It’s like you told me. He’d remember us, Ron. He wouldn’t give up, not the Harry we know.”

Hermione returned late that evening with Harry’s school trunk. The house was deserted, except for Harry sitting and staring into the fire. “Hey,” she called softly as she entered the den. “Where is everyone?”

Harry shrugged. “Mr. and Mrs. Weasley went home, as did everyone else. It’s just me here.”

“I’m sorry, Harry. If I had known you’d be alone, I’d have come sooner,” Hermione offered.

Harry looked at her with a small smile that didn’t reach his eyes. “You didn’t have to come back. I’ll be fine. Besides, you have a son that needs you.”

“You need me, too,” she explained. “Andrew is sleeping, so Mum can handle him. I wanted to talk to you. I wanted to let you know that you aren’t alone. We’ve been friends for a long time, and while I know that you can’t remember that, I was thinking that maybe you still needed a friend.”

Harry smiled at her genuinely. “Thanks, Hermione. I was feeling a bit down. I appreciate your coming back.”

Hermione was shocked at his words, but kept her face passive. The fire roared to life as Ron stepped through it. “…Didn’t feel much like apparating,” he said as he entered. “Ready to wade through your old school trunk?”

Harry grinned and nodded. Ron went over to the bar and poured them each a large drink. “This might take the edge off a bit, mate,” he said handing the glass to Harry.

“I’m really not supposed to drink with the medications I’m on, the chemist told me,” Harry replied. Ron winked at him. “Well, I suppose a bit wouldn’t hurt.”

A few hours and many mugs later, the two men were giggling over the contents of Harry’s trunk. Hermione finished her one cocktail, and then abstained. She found herself reminded of the few times in the past when Harry was truly carefree. She started thinking about what he might have been like if he hadn’t had to face the hardships and burdens he’d endured. She caught Ron’s eye, he nodded to her. She made her goodbyes and left via the floo.

“So, tell me about this nurse…” laughed Ron, who wasn’t as inebriated as he let on. “She certainly was pretty, what I saw of her.”

“She is,” agreed Harry, who gave up his position in the floor and moved clumsily to the couch. “I’m finding it difficult knowing I’ll never talk to her again.”

“You two were very close, were you?” probed Ron.

“Yeah. She was like the only one who would talk to me. I mean really talk. The other nurses, I think, were a bit frightened, what with all the “appearing out of thin air, clutching a dead body” stuff. Teresa got me that day pass, you know. I don’t think I’d have been allowed to leave without her help.”

“So, that day…the two of you had a regular date, then?” Ron asked.

“No, it wasn’t like that. I mean, in the sense of having lunch and going to the cinema, you could call it a date, but she was my friend.”

“Do you love her?”

Harry breathed heavily. “I’m not sure where this conversation is going and I’m not sure I’m at all comfortable discussing Teresa with you, Ron. No offense, but if we used to talk this way in the past, then I’m sorry, but it’s like I only met you a few days ago. Hermione told me I dated your sister for a time, but I really don’t feel comfortable talking about this. I’m sorry.” Harry rose and made for the stairs.

Ron apparated to Hermione’s, where she was waiting up for him. “How did it go?” she asked before he was barely in the door.

“We still don’t know anything,” replied Ron. He related the conversation to Hermione. “I need to talk to my dad. I’m sure there’re Ministry guidelines for this sort of thing.”

Hermione nodded. “I just need to get my mind around the fact that I’ve lost him and that we’re only friends.”

“Just tell him that Andrew is his, Hermione. He’ll do the right thing.”

“No, I won’t trap him. He doesn’t remember me and he doesn’t remember us. It would be unfair to all of us, especially Andrew, if Harry came to us out of guilt. I won’t do that to my son!”

“Why all the secrecy? You think no one has asked if I know who the father is?” Ron asked.

“Ron, we’ve discussed this. Can you imagine what Andrew’s life would be like if it were known that he is Harry’s son? Especially now!”

“I still say you should have married me. Everyone thinks him or me is his father anyway. I’d be a good father to him…” Ron said softly.

Hermione’s eyes filled with tears she refused to let fall. “I know you would, Ron. I love you, truly I do, but I’m still not in love with you any more than you are in love with me. I want it all. That may be selfish, but anything else would be shortchanging all of us. Please keep my secret…please?” Ron nodded his consent, before leaving her with one last hug.

Chapter 3

Within a few days Hermione was tired of her mixed emotions regarding Harry. She was tired of Ron’s waffling as well. She decided to put a stop to it once and for all. She arrived at his flat unannounced and knocked at the door. “Are you alone?” she called through the closed door.

“Just a minute,” he answered. A few seconds later the door swung open. “Hermione, what an expected surprise…” he said teasingly. “I suppose you’ve come to talk about Harry…”

“Yes, Ron, I have. May I come in?”

“Of course,” Ron answered picking up scattered clothing from around the drawing room.

“No need to pick up for me. You did give Luna my love, did you not?”

Ron reddened. “How did you know?”

Hermione smiled at his obliviousness. “First of all, I know you and Luna have been seeing each other; she told me about a month ago. Secondly, you only hesitate to open the door to me, if there is someone you are shooing out via the Floo. And thirdly, either you have started donning ladies’ lingerie…” she pulled a camisole from the pile of laundry in his arms. “…or she was the one exiting before I came in…”

“Alright, so she was here,” he admitted. “I like her, Hermione. She understands about you and me, plus asking you to marry me again was her idea. She knows what we mean to each other and is willing to take a chance on me anyway…”

“I hope everything works out for you, Ronald, but I did come to talk about Trey…I mean Harry.”

“It helps me to keep them separate. Trey is a stranger and decidedly not the best friend I lost…”

“I know that and that’s one of the reasons I came to talk to you. You have to remember that it’s the same person! Whenever he says something Harry would have said, you treat him like your long lost brother, but if he says something different, you scowl and grumble as if he were some interloper. Don’t think for a minute that he hasn’t noticed…”

“What do you want me to do?” he asked. “He’s not the friend I lost. He’s some new person trying to worm his way into our lives…”

“That’s just it!” she said vehemently. “If you think about it, he was reasonably happy in that hospital and we dragged him away from that. If he seems torn, it’s because he is. He’s trying to remember who he was and how he fits into the scheme of things here. We need to help him with that, not grumble because he gets it wrong…”

“You sure are singing a different tune these days,” Ron reminded her. “What happened to ‘That would require interest on my part’…”

“I was wrong and I admit it. There. Are you happy?”

“I still think he could be dangerous, Hermione. He was in a mental institution…”

“You know all about that, Ron. He was there because he showed up clutching a dead body. He didn’t know how it happened and didn’t remember his past. Of course they wouldn’t just let him walk free. We know at least the why, and we remember who he is. He passed all of the tests with flying colors. Why is that not good enough for you?”

“Dad and I think he’s hiding something. Did you ever stop to think that just maybe he’s faking the whole amnesia thing?”

“I cannot believe you just said that…” said Hermione warningly.

“Or what about, since he cast the killing curse on himself and came out alright, why not a few memory charms…He’s got Lockhart as an example….”

“Or maybe,” stated a furious Hermione. “You are feeling a bit jealous that he’s back. You were happy he was gone, weren’t you. You’re just looking for a way to get rid of him again so that he’s not tramping on your turf…”

“I think you’d better leave, Hermione, before I say something I might regret…”

“Just think about what I’ve said…”

“I will, if you think about how you’re being blinded by the fact that your lover is back and that you can’t see past it!”

“That’s low, Ron, really low. The fact is that my ‘lover’ isn’t back. What we’ve gotten back is a man who is struggling to make sense of what’s happened to him. If you can’t see past your own insecurities to see that, then I suggest you just stay away!” She turned toward the door.

Ron, in an attempt to get the last word in, shouted, “That’s exactly what you are hoping for, isn’t it?”

Hermione visited Grimmauld Place every day after work. Sometimes she brought Andrew, other times she left him with her mum. She hadn’t spoken with Ron in over a week, which bothered her. Usually they patched up their spats after only a few days.

On Thursday night, she arrived to find Harry thrashing around in his bed, hands clenched in his hair. She quickly brought him a cold compress and talked soothingly to him in low tones. Harry, who was barely coherent, submitted to her assistance without protest. When he quieted, she called Madam Pomfrey at Hogwarts for advice. After brewing the suggested potion and dosing him with it, she held him as he slept.

The next morning, he awoke. His eyes were almost wild looking as he prepared for the day. He found Hermione in the kitchen sipping a cup of tea.

“Good morning,” she said softly to him.

“Hi,” he returned even softer, pouring himself a cup of tea as well.

“Are you feeling better?” she asked.

He nodded gently. “I suppose I should have mentioned that I tend to be prone to migraines since the accident or whatever…”

“Your eyes, they…Are you still in pain?” she asked.

Harry smiled. “…much better, thanks. That concoction you gave me really helped…much better than the injections I’m used to…Thanks.”

“What did you have planned for today?” she asked, noticing his affected speech.

“Remus coming…Ron said…Mrs. Weasley…”

“Maybe you’d best get some more sleep,” she suggested.

“M’fine…” he answered laying his head on the table top.

“Rough night?” asked Remus as he walked through the door, smiling sympathetically.

“Not bad…no needles….” Harry replied not lifting his head from the table.

“He’s fighting off a migraine,” Hermione explained. “I got the potion instructions from Madam Pomfrey.”

“I’ve noticed he has them a few times a week,” said Remus. “I came to see if he wanted me to take him back to St. Mungo’s…you know…see if they can find something to help…”

Harry quickly straightened; his wide eyes full of terror. “No…NOT GOING!” He leapt off the chair and raced for his bedroom.

Remus sat down as if nothing out of the ordinary had occurred. “What was that about?” Hermione asked in disbelief.

“Let’s just say he’s a bit leery of going back there. I don’t blame him. They truly put him through the paces last time he was there…”

“I remember,” she said.

“I’ve suggested it several times and he was thinking it over, but possibly I should have refrained from mentioning it again when he was feeling poorly.” Remus rubbed a hand across his face. “I wish I knew how to help him…”

Hermione laid her hand on top of his. “You are trying; that’s what counts. It was a good idea to bring it up when he might be more open to getting help. It could have gone either way…”

“I should have realized and done something sooner, Hermione. I knew when he hit that cave that…”

“Cave? What cave?” she asked.

“When he cast the Killing Curse on himself, he was blasted against the side of a cave and fell to the ground. I didn’t want to go into detail with you before. I thought he was dead! There was no point in putting you through more suffering…”

“Tell me everything that you can remember, Remus, please…”

Remus cast a Silencing Charm on the room. “I arrived in the forest. I was angry that Harry had given me the slip. I saw only the back of his head through the trees and saw the glow of his wand locked with Voldemort’s. Harry was taunting him, like I said before. I’ve never seen such…I don’t know…I don’t know whether to call it courage or stupidity…”

“They both describe him accurately…” Hermione added.

“Then Voldemort was gone and Harry was writhing in pain; kneeling on the ground. I went closer. Harry was saying these horrible things to me in Voldemort’s voice. I knew that Voldemort was possessing him. Harry looked up at me and said in his own voice, ‘If this doesn’t work, Remus, tell her I’m sorry…’ and he aimed the wand at his chest and cast the curse. Through the blinding light, I saw him be blast through the air and into the side of the cave. When the light faded, I saw him. He was…he was bleeding from his nose, mouth and ears. His eyes were open, lifeless. I turned toward the school and signaled for help. When I turned back, he was gone…They both were gone.” Tears rolled down his face as he continued. “I should have realized…We could have found him…”

“Don’t blame yourself, Remus. We all failed him. I’ll help you get him to St. Mungo’s. Then we’ll know if he will get his memory back. In the meantime, I’ll go talk to him.”

She found Harry pacing like a caged lion in the room he’d been given. “I shouldn’t be here…I should just go back to St. Joseph’s or…or…far away from this place…”

“Please don’t do that…” Hermione said soothingly. “I know this is hard for you and we aren’t making things any easier, but please know we are trying…”

Harry stopped and looked at her. “Are you?”

“Yes, Harry, we all are. I’m sure it doesn’t seem like it, but…”

“No, that’s not what I meant…it’s just…well…” He stopped and ran a hand through his messy hair. “It’s all so confusing. That one man…Remus? He wants me to wave this stick about, expecting something to happen and it doesn’t. That Ron fellow stares at me like I’ve stolen his bicycle or something and is trying to catch me out on it…” Harry sighed deeply. “The only person who seems not to be disappointed in me is Andrew. It’s rather daunting, don’t you think?”

“No one is disappointed in you…” she said softly; however she did make a mental note that he seemed to have bonded with his son.

“No one has said as much, but I can feel it, Hermione. Everyone, including you, it’s like they are waiting for me to do something spectacular…to live up to the glory that was Harry Potter, and I’m not that man. I don’t know that man…How am I ever expected to compete with that?”

“That’s just it, Harry. You are that man. You just can’t remember him…”

“And there’s a good chance that I’ll never remember him. I’m Trey. I’m really starting to regret saying I’d accept being called Harry. There’s so much baggage that comes with that name. I can’t deal with it all. And I’m not sure I want to. Look, I don’t mean anything bad against you and your friends, but I think it’s best if I leave here.”

“She won’t remember you, Harry…”

“Who? Oh, you mean Teresa?”

Hermione nodded. “I know you miss her…”

“It’s not even that so much, really. It’s just….” He paused and turned toward the window and let out a deep breath. “I was in a mental institution. I could deal with that. I’d look around and see people who were truly mad and it would make me feel sane…sort of. She knew that and would talk to me. She made me feel like I was sane in a way. That I was there because of some weird circumstance and it would all get worked out…”

“And it’ll work out here! Just give it a chance…please! You were there for about two years. You can’t expect to adjust in just a couple of week’s time. This all seems strange to you. I know that. I wasn’t born into this world either. I had to adjust as well, so I know a bit about where you are coming from. You’ll see. Just give it a bit more time…please?” She looked sideways at him.

He nodded before adding, “I’m really tired. I think I’ll lay down for a bit…”

She turned the bed down for him as she said, “I came up here to talk to you about getting help for your migraines, but that conversation can wait until later, alright?”

He closed his eyes. “I look forward to it…” he said with all of the sarcasm he could muster.

Hermione returned to her mum’s house to find a lovely bouquet of flowers waiting for her. She slit open the enclosed envelope to read:

I’m sorry. I don’t want to fight with you. I’ll try to be better around him for you because I miss both you and Andrew. And no, Luna is not making me write this…She may have made a suggestion that I felt was acceptable, but…

I’ll go talk to Harry after work tonight. Meet me for lunch tomorrow?

Ron

Hermione smiled and sent an owl note accepting his lunch invitation. Mrs. Granger was feeding Andrew in the kitchen when Hermione walked in.

“Did you forgive him?” Mrs. Granger asked her daughter with a smile.

“Yes, the flowers are lovely…besides, Ron has always had a blind spot where Harry is concerned. He holds him in such high esteem that he tends to unconsciously take it as an insult when Harry fails. I can’t even begin to explain it, but that’s just the way it is.”

“Sounds complicated…” Mrs. Granger observed.

“It’s not really. I mean, we’ve known each other for so long that it’s natural. Now, it’s as if Harry changed the rules of the game with his injuries. Ron is taking a bit more time to adjust, that’s all.”

“What about Harry?” she asked. “How is he adjusting?”

Hermione thought for a bit, and then answered. “He’s always been complicated. I know he’s terrified of it all. I mean he doesn’t remember doing magic and he’s more than a bit intimidated by the whole ‘The-Chosen-One’ thing. He’s afraid; more afraid than even he will admit that he’s not that same person. He told me that he knows we are disappointed in him and that’s the furthest thing from the truth…”

“Is it really?” Mrs. Granger probed.

“Of course, Mum,” she said, disbelieving. “How can you say that?”

“You go over there every night and come home frustrated. I don’t know if it is frustrations with him or with yourself. Give yourself some time, love. It’ll all work out. You’ll see. I know that you’ll have the family that you’ve dreamed of. It’s only a matter of time.”

“But…that’s not…” spluttered Hermione. “He needs me, Mum. I know he does. He’ll talk to me when he won’t talk to anyone else…”

“Then what are you waiting for? I’m not sure it’s very good for him to bumble around that house alone and from what you’ve told me, not very safe, either. Go to him, Hermione. You’ve said he clung to Teresa because she was his constant. It sounds to me like he needs one right about now.”

Hermione quickly packed a few things for herself and for Andrew. She shrunk his cot and put it in her pocket. She grabbed a few of her first year spell books and was ready to go. Arriving back into the kitchen, she hugged her mother. “You’ve done so much for me,” she said tearfully. “Even when everyone was badgering me about Andrew’s father, you never even asked…”

“I never had to…”

“Why not? Andrew doesn’t favor his father at all…”

“Hermione, give me a little credit, please…I’ve heard nothing but ‘Harry says’ and ‘Harry did’ since you were eleven years old. When you thought you lost him, it devastated you. Now comes the hard part. You have to help him find his way back to you. I don’t mean his memory, either; just show him the love and admiration you have for him and he’ll see he can do no better…”

Hermione gave her mum a tight squeeze. “You are indeed the best Mum on the planet. Have I told you that?”

“Only when you want something... Now go before I get weepy…”

Ron Apparated to Grimmauld Place with a sense of hesitancy. He knew he hadn’t been much of a friend to Harry, but he was doing the best he could. Yes, he’d promised to try harder for Hermione and he would, but he couldn’t shake the feeling that Hermione was in for a fall. He met Luna there and accompanied her to the door. They quietly went in through the hall and into the drawing room. “Harry?” Ron called.

Harry came into the room with a tray of sandwiches, which Ron eyed appreciatively. “Hello, Ron. I was just about to have dinner. Remus sent plenty. Can I bring a plate for you and…?”

“I’m Luna,” she greeted him. “I would say, ‘Welcome back’ but you aren’t really, are you? I’ll just have to make do with “Pleased to meet you…”

Harry smiled genuinely. “Pleased to meet you, too, Luna,” he replied. Ron summoned two more plates from the kitchen. “Oh, I keep forgetting you can do that…”

“Have you tried any magic yourself?” asked Ron.

“Remus has come over to test me, but nothing’s happened. Maybe I just don’t have it anymore…”

“That’s nonsense!” said Luna. “You just aren’t in touch with your inner magic essence.”

Ron rolled his eyes at Harry who grinned back. “Luna has a unique look on things. Since we’ve been dating, I’ve learned to just let her get on with it…”

Harry’s eyes went wide. “You and Luna?” he asked with disbelief. “I thought you and Hermione…”

“Ronald and Hermione are more like siblings than anything else,” Luna stated. “People assume there’s more because they are so close, but can you imagine…well I suppose you can’t at that…but the two of them bicker constantly. They’d never last an hour as lovers…” She continued, “Now that that’s settled, let’s get back to your magic. Have you tried many spells? Are you getting the incantation correct and the wand movements?”

“Remus says I am,” he replied.

“Let’s see it…”

Harry picked up his wand and gave a perfect ‘Swish and Flick’ while saying, “Wingardium Leviosa” and watched for something to happen. When nothing occurred, his shoulders slumped in defeat.

Luna asked him, “What did you expect to happen?”

“Remus said that the pillow will float up in the air or something…”

“And did you expect that to happen?”

He didn’t know what she meant so he asked her, “What do you mean?”

“Magic isn’t all about wand movements and incantations. Most adults don’t even say the easier incantations anymore, just the wand flicks. I’m a Ravenclaw, so be prepared to try several hypotheses and experiments…”

Ron clarified, “Ravenclaw House was the clever house at school. They were the most intelligent of the lot.”

“What was I?” Harry asked seriously.

“We were Gryffindors!” stated Ron proudly with his chest puffed out. “We were the brave and courageous house.”

“I’m not feeling very courageous these days,” Harry admitted.

“But you are!” exclaimed Luna. “You’ve been dropped into an entirely new world with all of us doing things that are supposed to be impossible. How can you feel anything but brave?”

Harry smiled. “I’ll try to remember that.”

“And I believe that may be part of the problem. You don’t believe it is possible, so it isn’t. Did I mention that Gryffindors are known for stubbornness, too?”

Harry looked at Ron who agreed, “She’s right, mate. That’s part of the reason I came over here tonight. I wanted to apologize…again. I haven’t been a very good friend to you. In my defense I’d like to add that I was trying to keep Trey separate from Harry. Trey’s a pretty cool bloke, but I’ve missed Harry for so long…”

Harry smiled before getting back to work. “Wingadium Leviosa!” Still nothing happened.

“Keep practicing,” said Ron. “I never got spells on the first try either. The only one in our class that did was Hermione.”

“Did someone call my name?” Hermione asked as she entered through the fire carrying her son. Andrew spotted Harry and squealed with delight. “Someone’s glad to see you…” Hermione handed the boy over to Harry, who twirled him around and tossed him into the air before putting him down.

“Harry,” Hermione started. “I need to talk to you about something…You see, I don’t think it is productive for you to spend so much time here on your own. If it’s alright with you, I’d like to take one of the spare bedrooms for me and Andrew until you get used to things.”

“That’s a wonderful idea!” cried Luna nudging Ron hard in the ribs.

“Right,” said Ron with quite a bit less enthusiasm. “Really good idea…Er…Hermione can I have a word with you in the kitchen…”

Ron and Hermione went into the kitchen, leaving Harry and Luna alone. “I’ve got questions, if you don’t mind…” Harry said.

“Please, feel free to ask me anything. I have to warn you, though. I tend to be a bit more honest than is generally acceptable…”

“Perfect,” Harry said. “I’m looking for answers not platitudes. Who pays for this house and where does the money come from?”

“Who paid for your hospital care?” Luna asked in return.

“I believe it was a social program. I was technically a ward of the government.”

“Both Ron and Hermione are footing the bills here…” At his disapproval, she continued, “No, allow me to finish…You were a very wealthy young man. When you started your trek to take down You-know-who…”

“Who?” Harry asked, “Voldemort?”

“Yes,” stated Luna. “He is more commonly known as You-know-who or He-who-must-not-be-named. Anyway, you had arranged that if anything were to happen to you, then Ron and Hermione inherited your estate. Ron spent a bit of it when he got his flat, but he’s been paying it back monthly. I believe Hermione might have borrowed a bit after the baby was born as well.”

Meanwhile, in the kitchen Ron and Hermione were discussing Ron’s concerns about Hermione staying with Harry. “What exactly are you trying to accomplish?” Ron asked heatedly.

“Just what I said,” she answered, “I want to help him adjust. Honestly, Ron, I thought you were over this misplaced jealousy…”

“I’m not jealous!” he countered. “I realize he’s helpless in our world right now and you want to help him, but why do you have to move in? Why can’t someone else?”

“What are you afraid of, Ron?” she asked him.

“I don’t want you to be hurt, like I said. I know you still love him. What happens if Trey doesn’t return that love?” Ron paused and looked at her sincerely. “Look, I’ll be the first person buying drinks if it works out, but have you thought about what happens if it doesn’t? I remember how it was after we lost him, Hermione. I never want to go through that again…”

“By works out, do you mean he gets his memories back or adjusts to our lifestyle?”

Ron shrugged. “I don’t know what I mean, actually. I mean it’s only been a couple of weeks that he’s been here. I think we all need time to adjust…”

“Exactly,” Hermione agreed. “That’s precisely why I moved in here, to help him adjust…”

Ron put his arms around her. “I only want to see you happy, that’s all. If he’s still hung up on that Muggle; that could make things a bit trickier…”

She leaned into him. “I know…” she breathed. “I’m not going to worry about that, though. It’ll be fine. You’ll see…”

At that point, the couple in the kitchen heard a yelp from the drawing room and hurried out to see what had happened. Luna wore a smug look, while Harry was backed against the wall as if he’d seen a ghost. A vase sat shattered on the floor.

“Is everything alright?” Hermione asked gently.

“Ronald, Hermione, I’d like you to welcome back Harry Potter…”

Just then the fire roared to life and Ron’s parents came through. Mrs. Weasley brought an assortment of treats with her, including Harry’s favorite treacle tart. “Harry, dear,” she greeted him, giving him a hug with her free hand.

Arthur eyed Harry critically before extending a hand in greeting. “Settling in alright?” he asked and received a nod in return. “Good…good.”

Hermione made a mental note to ask Ron what was up with his father, although she now knew where Ron’s ambivalence came from. The fire roared to life again as more people entered. Harry looked at her questioningly before it came to her. There was an Order meeting tonight. She edged over to him to explain.

“You don’t have to stay. You could watch Andrew for me, if you want,” she said knowing that Harry would be the main topic of discussion. “I can explain later…”

Harry nodded and retreated up the stairs and into the room Hermione and Andrew were using. Exhausted, he laid on the bed beside the cot containing a sleeping little boy.

Chapter 4

Harry awoke to find a woman standing over him in the darkness. “Teresa?” he asked.

“No, it’s Hermione. The meeting is over and you can come have pudding if you’d like…”

“Hermione…” he breathed. She was struck by the fact that the way he said her name now with so much uncertainty sounded eerily similar to the way he’d said it when they’d made love.

She shook the thought from her head. “I’m here,” she answered before taking his hand and leading him down the staircase. They again joined Luna, Ron and the others in the drawing room. Harry chose the squashy chair closest to the fire, while Hermione kneeled beside him.

Finally, Mr. Weasley spoke. “Harry, we have concerns that we need to address with you…”

Harry asked, “Why?”

Mr. Weasley was taken aback at the question. “Well…er…you can certainly understand that what we want is what’s best for you…but we must also consider what is best for the entire wizarding world.”

“What does that have to do with me?” he asked a bit more firmly.

“Harry…” Hermione took over. “You’ve suffered a major head injury…one that probably should have killed you. You have lasting repercussions from that…”

“So…” he shrugged like an insolent child.

The guests all looked at Remus, who was making a face as if to say, “This is what I was talking about…”

Mrs. Weasley handed him a plate of the tarts she’d brought. He took a bite and closed his eyes in ecstasy. “This is really good! Thank you…er…Ma’am.”

Arthur continued again. “We need to ask you some questions…and a few might be a bit uncomfortable for you…but by law, we have to know…”

“Why,” Harry asked again.

“Our world is kept hidden from the Muggle world. We have laws to enforce that…”

“What does that have to do with me?” he asked.

Ron said, “Let me try…Mate, it’s like this…You were in the Muggle world for nearly two years…”

“So…” he shrugged.

The rest of the group looked at each other in helplessness.

“So, what Ron is getting at,” began Tonks, “is that we need to know if you’ve done anything illegal according to our laws.” When Harry, among several others made motions as if they were going to object, Tonks continued quickly, “Not on purpose, of course, but we need to know so that we can to take action to protect you, if we need to.”

“Protect me from what?” Harry asked confused.

“Let’s just worry about that if it comes to it…” said Remus in a calming voice. “This might sound strange, but you’ve said you spoke many times with a Muggle psychiatrist. Did you in any of those conversations mention magic or being a wizard?”

“No, I mean, how could I? I didn’t know it existed until I was taken from there…”

“Good…good,” stated Mr. Weasley. “Did you at any time use any magic, even if accidentally, in front of any Muggles?”

“I can’t do magic. I keep waving the stick around and nothing happens…”

“Sometimes if you are really angry or scared, a wand isn’t necessary to do magic…” said Hermione carefully. She noticed that he was getting agitated and laid a hand on his arm. He rapidly pulled his arm away.

“I don’t remember,” he said. His knees were bouncing up and down slightly as he looked from one person to another.

“That’s fine,” said Mr. Weasley. “We can find out in other ways…Now, Harry, you mentioned a nurse…a Teresa that spoke with you extensively. Is that correct?”

“So…” he shrugged as if he was buying time to avoid the question.

Remus took over. “Did…er…anything…occur…with her that might compromise our security to the point where we would need to take action?” Harry looked at Remus as if he were a complicated puzzle.

“What he’s getting at, Boy,” said Alastor Moody, “is did you go out with the nurse socially?”

“I had a few day passes with her, yes.”

“What did you do on those dates?” Moody asked.

“I don’t remember…” said Harry honestly. His knees were literally jumping by this time. He wrapped his arms around his stomach which made him look like a finely wound top.

Suddenly, he unwrapped his arms from his stomach and clutched his head, screaming in pain.

Moody cast ‘Mobilus Corpus’ after stunning him. “Let’s get him back to St. Mungo’s…” Moody grab Harry’s floating still body and went outside to Apparate them both to the hospital.

Hermione had tears rolling down her cheeks as she confronted the others left in the drawing room. “He isn’t ready for all of this…he’s just barely getting by and we’ve just made it worse. Can you imagine how he’ll be when they revive him? He’s going to run…”

Mr. Weasley laid a comforting hand on her shoulder. “We won’t allow that to happen, Hermione. But maybe you should be there when they revive him in any case.”

Even with Hermione talking to him, Harry was so agitated when he was revived; the Healer stunned him again right away. Hermione sat right beside him as he lay quietly. His eyes, wide and crazed, were the only sign that he was awake.

“I’m so sorry, Harry,” she said as she stroked his hair. “I’m sure that felt like an inquisition to you. They just needed to know if more memory charms were needed to maintain secrecy. No one meant to hurt you…”

Ron stuck is head in the door. “How is he?” he asked.

“I don’t know, really. The Healer didn’t say much. He seems calm enough but take a look at his eyes. He must be going through his own private hell right now…” she answered.

“The Healer wants to talk to us in his office…” Hermione followed him out of the room.

The Healer ushered them into the office. “I know you have questions, but let me tell you what I see,” he said. “Your friend had a very serious head injury. The fact that he was unconscious for so long indicates that the chance of a full recovery is very small. He is exhibiting some of the classic signs associated with an injury such as he had. While I don’t think it will get worse, I’m not confident it will get much better. We have potions and charms to help his headaches, if you can get him here for them. His short term memory is spotty at best and his long term memory, semantic memory and episodic memory are difficult for him.”

“Will they get any better?” asked Ron.

“We don’t know that. We hope so, but giving you false hope is not going to be helpful for anyone involved. He’s going to need constant supervision as soon as he is released. Miss Granger, you live with him, is that correct?”

“Yes,” said Hermione.

“If it is within your means, I’d recommend a live-in nurse. While he seems healthiest while playing with your young child, we don’t want him to forget he’s an adult…”

“Is that likely?” asked Ron.

“Possible…” replied the Healer.

A few days later, Hermione was able to take Harry home. She’d taken another leave of absence from her job at the Ministry to take care of him. One morning after visiting her mum, Hermione arrived back to Grimmauld Place to find it empty. Frantic to find where Harry had gone, she Floo’d Ron to help her find him. After spending hours Floo-calling friends and searching on foot Ron decided to check the attic. There he found Harry staring out a window. “Harry!” he cried. “I’m so glad to see you! What are you doing up here?”

“I got lost…” Harry said quietly.

“You could’ve shouted at us. We would have found you.”

“That makes sense…” Harry replied with a nod of agreement.

Ron led Harry back down to the drawing room, where Hermione threw her arms around him. “Where have you been?” she cried. “We were all worried…”

“He couldn’t find his way,” said Ron. “I found him staring out the window up there.”

“Harry! That could have been dangerous for you!” said a shocked Hermione. “What if you’d gone out into the street?”

“I got a little disoriented. It’s not that big of a deal…” replied Harry.

Remus came in and visibly relaxed when he saw Harry. Something shot out from the end of his wand and disappeared through the wall. “What happened?” he asked.

“Harry got lost and…” Ron looked over at Harry who was glaring at him. “…and we found him in the attic. It’s no big deal…”

“Has this happened before, Harry?” Remus asked.

“I get a little disoriented sometimes, yeah, but this is a really big house. Who wouldn’t lose their way a bit on occasion?” Harry looked at them all challengingly. “I don’t need a minder…”

“No one is saying you do, but please shout for one of us next time, alright?” Hermione said as she released him.

“I’ll try to remember…” he agreed resignedly. “I’m tired. I think I’ll kip for a bit…”

Ron followed discreetly behind saying he had to use the loo. Once he returned, he joined Remus and Hermione in the kitchen. “He found his bed okay,” he said.

“What are we going to do, Ron?” she asked. “His short-term memory is spotty at best. His retrograde amnesia isn’t improving and it’s like he’s in complete denial that anything is wrong. Sometimes I can’t even hold a conversation with him. He gets distracted or irritable with me. You saw him the other night. If he can’t understand what you are saying, he just says, ‘Why?’ or ‘What’s that got to do with me?’ It’s so very frustrating.”

“How is his magic coming? Anything yet?” he asked Remus.

Remus shook his head. “I don’t know why, either. The magic is there, he just can’t access it. I’ve seen him do accidental magic on occasion, but that’s all. Hermione, I know you want to take care of him, but maybe we should think about another option…”

“I won’t have him committed to St. Mungo’s. It’ll drive him mad. What if we hired another nurse for him?”

“That might work,” replied Remus. “I’ll check into it and get back to you…” Remus made his preparations to leave, while Hermione served tea.

“When you moved in here, did you expect all of this?” Ron asked concerned.

“Maybe not all of it, but I did my research and knew it wouldn’t be the same as it was before…I just…”

“Didn’t think you’d end up minding a grown man…” Ron finished for her.

“I love him, Ron. I’ll do whatever it takes…” she swore.

“I know you do. I think I’ve known it since before you and I tried to make a go of it. Is there anything I can do to help you?”

Hermione shook her head. “He’s safe. He’s alive and we’re going to help him get better.”

Ron placed his hand on Hermione’s. “You heard the Healer. He may not get any better. Can you handle him like he is, long-term?”

“I know he’ll never be completely better, but I’m optimistic that we can help him get some improvement, possibly substantially. I’ve got the information the Healer gave us. Eventually I’ll have him back in for treatments. Besides, he gets on so well with Andrew. Maybe that will give him enough incentive to not be as depressed…”

“Yeah, I can see that,” said Ron with a warm smile. “Who can stand being depressed around him?”

Harry woke an hour later. Ron had gone home and Hermione was preparing dinner. “Something smells really good…” he said as he entered the kitchen.

“Have a nice sleep?” Hermione asked.

“Yeah, I’m feeling loads better…Listen, I’m sorry if I was a bit out of sorts earlier…I just…”

“No matter,” she answered. “If getting a bit turned around is the worst thing to happen today, then I’d suppose we could call it a good day…”

“There are so many things that are just out of my reach, Hermione. The harder I try to grasp them; the more confused I get…”

“Then don’t try so hard,” she stated evenly.

“Yeah, that’s easy to say…”

“Well, why don’t you go and get Andrew. He needs to wake up soon anyway. Then we’ll have a nice dinner, alright?”

Harry brought Andrew down, while Hermione served plates. Harry tried to cut Andrew’s meat into fine pieces. He found, however, that his fingers wouldn’t cooperate. Hermione didn’t say a word, but just took over the task as if she didn’t notice. She cut Harry’s into pieces as well.

“I could’ve done it…” Harry complained.

“I know you could have,” she answered. “I’m just so used to doing it that it’s just natural…instinct, even.” She smiled at him, hoping he believed her. “I’d like for us to talk after Andrew goes to bed…if you want to...”

Harry beamed at her. “I’d like that…thanks”

Andrew took a bite of his ham, and said, “Mmmmmm…” before offering Harry a piece. Harry returned the favor with a bit of mushy peas. The two took turns feeding each other until Andrew’s plate was empty. “Narwon?” he asked his mum.

“Another what, love?” she asked. Andrew pointed a chubby finger toward the mashed potatoes and then the ham. Finally when the boy was getting full, he played with his food more than ate it. “You ate so well tonight,” she told her son. “I think you like being around Harry…” then to Harry she said, “He normally isn’t a very good eater. It isn’t a pleasant experience. You are a good influence on him.”

“At least I’m good for something,” stated Harry as he stood to move his dishes to the sink.

Hermione looked at him sympathetically. “You are good for loads of things. Don’t be so hard on yourself…”

“Why?” he asked.

Knowing he was losing the conversation, she switched. “Did you want to help give Andrew his bath? Maybe he won’t fuss so much if he has you there…”

Hermione joined Harry in the large drawing room and sat with him on the couch by the fire. “Do you have a headache?” she asked him.

“It’s not bad,” he answered. “I’ve had worse.”

“Harry, our world has potions that can assist with those. We have charms and spells that may even make them go away. Would you like me to check on that?”

Harry shrugged. “If you want…” He looked in her eyes briefly before returning his gaze to the crackling fire.

She slid closer to him and wrapped his arm around her. He quickly pulled his arm away and attempted to surreptitiously move away from her. “What’s wrong?” she asked trying hard not to feel hurt.

“I don’t want to touch you,” he answered honestly.

“May I ask why not? There’s nothing wrong with comforting a fellow human being…”

“Do I have to remind you that I can’t remember my past? No one has said much of anything about my personal life. All I hear about is what a brave soul I am and my life at school. What did I do for fun? Was I dating anyone? Was I married? Did I even want to be? Did I have a girlfriend? Was I a virgin? These are things I can’t remember…and I must because I can’t see myself moving on if I don’t.”

“Stay right here a minute…” she told him grinning. She rose from the sofa and ran up the stairs. Returning quickly, she sat back down by him holding a photo album. “These are wizarding pictures, so don’t be alarmed if they move. These are pictures that could answer those very questions. I have to first ask if you want those answers…”

“Why wouldn’t I? I mean if I can see myself I might possibly remember. I want so badly to remember.”

“These pictures may reveal information that you aren’t ready for. They may make you feel differently about a lot of things.”

“That would be my problem, wouldn’t it?”

She opened the cover of the book. “So, you never had a relationship with that nurse?”

Harry looked up from the picture of himself, Ron and Hermione apparently laughing at something out of the view of the lens. “Teresa? No. It’s like I told you…and her, come to think of it, until I know about the past, the future doesn’t matter.”

“You mean that she wanted a relationship with you…”

“I don’t know about that…” he said carefully not really sure why he needed to be careful. “She and I went out a handful of times. If she saw it as dates, I don’t know. I saw it as supervised outings. I mean, I knew if I wanted to kiss her, it wouldn’t be rejected, but…”

“You didn’t…”

“No, I didn’t. I’m not a cheat. Until I know I wasn’t involved with anyone before I left…”

“You think you were?” she asked.

“I’m not sure, and I don’t know how, but I feel like there was someone…”

Hermione turned the page and revealed a picture of an unguarded moment. In the picture Hermione appeared to be studying, however it was obvious she was daydreaming or reliving a glorious memory, while Harry was standing off to the side watching her with a small grin. The love he had for her shining in his eyes.

Harry snapped his head up from the book and looked at her. “It’s you…” he said, his eyes wide with realization. She smiled as she faced him. He gently lowered his lips to hers.

Almost at once, the fire roared to life. The couple on the couch sprang apart as Ron stepped into the room. Hermione glared at him before tempering her expression.

“Hey, guys,” Ron greeted. He looked from Hermione to Harry and back again. Seeing the photo album on Hermione’s lap, he added, “Oh, pictures!” and sat down between them.

Hermione jumped up like a startled cat and ran to her room. Returning, she had a different photo album in her hand. “Let’s look at this one…” she suggested.

Hours later, after Harry had long since gone to bed; Ron and Hermione were talking in the kitchen over a cup of hot chocolate. “So…er…did I interrupt anything earlier?”

Hermione got a glazed look in her eyes. “It was wonderful, Ron…” she sighed.

“He didn’t…er…you know…” Ron sputtered.

“Not like that, silly,” Hermione chided gently. “We were talking…just talking. He said he knew almost nothing about his personal life and that he can’t think of a future until he knows more about his past. He never even kissed that nurse! He said he could feel that there was someone waiting for him. He doesn’t remember who or how, but knew he’d be cheating if anything happened with her. Ron, don’t you see what this means?”

“I know what I think it means. What do you think?”

“To me, it means the memories are still there. He just can’t access them. Yes, I know it isn’t much, but I’m feeling a bit more optimistic that his memory will return in time.”

“He still has big problems, Hermione…”

“I know…the mood swings, irritability, disorientation and all that, but for the first time, I feel like he could remember me…that, in time…lots of time…we’ll have him back!”

“I hope you are right. I want that more than anything, not only for you, but for Andrew. But if it doesn’t happen, I don’t want to see you hurt. Will you talk to me? I’ll try to play devil’s advocate…”

“You’re truly a good friend, Ron.”

“Just be careful, alright?”

“He kissed me, Ron…”

“I assumed that when I came in…”

Hermione gave him a quick glare before saying, “He was talking about how he felt there was someone in his life, so he wouldn’t look at anyone else. He looked at a picture, said, ‘It’s you’ and kissed me. I really think he’s going to remember me…”

“For your sake, I hope so.”

Chapter 5

The only sounds permeating the small kitchen was the subtle ticking of the wall clock and the occasional clinking of silverware as the occupants picked at their plates. Each made an attempt to make the other think they were actually eating, unaffected. Both failed.

“Do you regret it?” Harry asked, not lifting his eyes from the plate in front of him.

“I wouldn’t say regret exactly…” Hermione replied. “I mean it was bound to happen sooner or later….What about you? Is it a repulsive thought that you and I were together?”

“No, not at all,” he answered. “It makes my attraction to you make that much more sense. Not that it isn’t logical…I mean look at you.”

“You’ve found yourself attracted to me?” she asked flirtingly.

“Yes,” he said with a sly grin.

“Maybe, we can explore that….later”

“I really have to have a minder…” he said with a sigh unaware he was changing the subject.

Hermione groaned. “Not a minder, a nurse. You won’t go to St. Mungo’s, so we’re bringing it to you.”

“This person is going to live here?” he asked. “And stay with me and Andrew while you work…”

“Yes, we talked about this,” she said trying to keep from becoming irritated.

“I don’t like it…” he grumbled.

“You don’t have to like it,” she replied. “It’s just the way it’s going to be.”

“Shouldn’t Andrew be up soon?” he asked.

“I took him to my mother’s this morning.”

“Why?” he asked.

She smiled knowing he was losing his concentration. She was surprised he’d stayed with it for so long.

The young nurse arrived promptly at noon. Hermione showed her around, leaving the introduction to Harry for last. As expected, Harry was polite, but yet not cordial.

“Mr. Potter, it is indeed a pleasure to make your acquaintance. I’ve heard so much about you…”

“Thank you,” Harry responded. “I’m sure that will be an advantage for you…”

“I’ll be home by five and if you need anything, just floo my office…”

The nurse left to accustom herself to the house. She knew of Harry’s tendencies and needed to know where to look for him should he get confused.

“Please don’t leave me,” he begged Hermione. “I don’t like her.”

“Give her a chance, Harry,” Hermione persuaded. “She’s had experience in this kind of thing in the Muggle world. You’ll be fine.” Harry scowled. “Now give me a kiss and I’ll be back soon.”

“I could get used to this….” Harry said as he wrapped his arms around her.

“If you could remember it…” she teased.

“You never did say whether or not I’ve ever…” he said as he bent down to hover his lips enticingly close to hers.

“We’ll have to discuss that later, if you’re good.”

“Yes, Mum,” he said with a teasing pout before his face fell. “It seems like that doesn’t it? Like you’ve got two children rather than one? I mean, you moved in here and I was supposed to watch Andrew while you worked and help you with him. Maybe you should rethink this…”

“I don’t need to rethink anything,” she said frankly. “Now kiss me before I have to go without one.”

Harry soon adjusted to the nurse being around. She took him through some memory exercises, physical therapy and basic magic. She noticed that he was weaker on his right side, so she had him try his wand in the other hand.

“Look!” he shouted. The nurse looked up from her parchment and saw that he was able to elevate a feather a few centimeters off the table.

“Very good, Mr. Potter!” she said. “Now try to lift it higher…”

Harry tried again and still a few centimeters were all he could manage. He released the spell and threw his wand against the wall. Flinging himself on the sofa, he with a look dared her to speak.

“I’ve been a nurse for awhile, Mr. Potter. Temper tantrums don’t faze me, nor does glaring. Go get your wand and start again…” Harry rose and walked across the room. By the time he’d gotten there, he’d forgotten why he’d come. He looked at the nurse. “Pick up your wand, please, Mr. Potter and bring it over here.”

He did as she asked and returned to the chair. “What would you like me to do?” he asked.

“Levitate the feather, please. Do you know the spell?” Harry shook his head. She told him the spell and the wand movement. “Now try with your left hand….”

Again he was able to lift the feather by casting the spell with his left hand. “I did it!” he said excitedly.

“Yes, you did. Congratulations. Now try again and lift it higher…” After about fifteen minutes of practicing the levitating spell, Harry was exhausted and attempting to clutch his head without the nurse seeing. His sweat soaked shirt clung to his chest. “You’ve made excellent progress, Mr. Potter…”

“Please, call me Trey…”

“Alright, thanks, Harry. You’ve made excellent progress today and I’d like you to go and take a bath and then rest before Miss Granger comes home.”

The nurse came up to check on Harry after a few minutes. He wasn’t in the loo or his room, so she began her search for him. She found him on the fourth floor in a vacant bedroom with what looked like straw and droppings on the floor.

“Hello,” he said casually. “May I help you?” He was crouched in a corner tugging on his hair.

“I think I can help you, Harry. Take this potion….there’s a good boy….” Once he’d drained the glass, she offered him a hand up and sent him into the loo down the hall.

“This isn’t my bathroom,” he complained. “Whose house are we in?”

“This is your house, Harry. We’re just on a different floor.” She waved her wand at the large tub and when it had filled, tossed a powder in. “There, your bath is all ready and I’ve added a relaxant to help you sleep…I’ll be back in about twenty minutes, if you aren’t out by then.”

“I don’t have a watch…”

“Just do your best…” she smiled. At his surprised look, she said, “I’m only going to knock, Harry. Your virtue is safe with me.”

“Am I?” he asked.

She responded, “Are you what? Virtuous or safe…”

“Virtuous…”

“Yes, I’d have to say you are…” She smiled at him and left the room.

Hermione arrived home to find the nurse preparing dinner. “Oh, you didn’t have to do that, Kate…”

The nurse chuckled. “I find it easiest to think that if I want to eat, I have to cook. Anyway, your Harry had a good day today. I was hoping to discuss it with you before he awoke.”

“Certainly,” said Hermione. “And we can share cooking duties…”

“Excellent, Miss Granger,” Kate smiled. “It seems the span of time that Mr. Potter can concentrate is ten minutes. After that, he tends to wander. He has pronounced weakness on his right side, so I had him try to cast spells with his left hand. He was able to levitate a feather a short distance briefly. Magic is very draining for him, so advanced spells are out of the question for the time being.”

“Will that always be the case?” Hermione asked.

“That only time will tell. My theory is that his magic is overextending itself just with the healing process. There’s not much left over for spells and charms. After approximately seven minutes, he loses his ability to concentrate and can’t get it back until he’s rested. He gets irritable, forgetful and disoriented. After completing the spell successfully a number of times, he addressed himself as Trey, became agitated when I asked him to try again and lost his way to the loo…”

“So in essence, we just need to limit questionings and exercises to five minutes and gradually increase as he’s successful…correct?”

“Correct. However, I do caution you that there will be plateaus and regressing until such time as he is as good as he will ever be. I foresee a time when soon, while I’m here to supervise, Harry will be able to care for your son for limited time spans. As for the future, I can’t say. It would depend on how much he improves.”

“I understand. My mum has no trouble with watching him…”

“Yes, but Harry needs to be made to feel useful. He knows he can’t work and feels he’s being a burden on you. That is contributing to his depression. Besides, the boy will hit terrible twos soon and we can’t have a tantrum contest…”

Hermione chuckled. “That’s what it seems like sometimes, doesn’t it?”

“He, also,” said Kate, “seems to need reassurance that he was a good person. Have you noticed that?”

“Yes, I have,” Hermione replied. “I think it stems from when he killed Voldemort. He struggled with the idea when he first learned of the prophecy, as we all did, but Harry...it affected him differently. He went a bit mad in our sixth year…in a kind of ‘it’s not real if I don’t let it be’ way.” Harry came into the kitchen with a strange, dazed look on his face. “Are you alright?”

“I just had a strange dream, that’s all. I’m fine,” he said quietly.

“Tell me about the dream, Mr. Potter…” suggested the nurse.

“There were these fat people…they were shouting at me…” he began. “I don’t know who they are but they absolutely loath me…”

Hermione gasped. “Describe them…”

“The older man had a bushy moustache, while the younger was almost piggish looking. The woman was slim and appeared almost regal in an ‘I’m better than any of you’ manner…I don’t understand why I would dream about them.”

Hermione walked over and touched his arm. “That was your mother’s sister and her family. They raised you…”

Harry sighed and rubbed his head. “But why did I dream that they hated me? It makes no sense…”

Pulling his hand away, Hermione took over by running her fingers through his hair. “They were afraid of magic, Harry. They weren’t very nice to you. The important thing is that you remembered something. It wasn’t a pleasant memory, but at least it’s something.”

Kate nodded her agreement with a smile. “Your exercises seem to be working quickly, Mr. Potter. That’s excellent news…”

“Call me Harry…please…” he told the nurse.

“Thanks, Harry. I’d like you to keep a journal with you at all times. Anything that might be a memory needs to written down. We can discuss it and decide if it truly is a memory. Then, you’ll have a record to reference. Does that sound agreeable?”

“Yes, it makes sense to me…” Harry responded. “Where’s Andrew?”

“He’s still at Mum’s. I was just about to go and get him.”

“You just needed to get the report, first. I understand…” Harry said with an embarrassed smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes. “You know I worry about you. I know Andrew is fine at Mum’s. I wasn’t sure what I’d find here…”

“I was pleasant, wasn’t I Kate?” Harry smirked.

“You were much better than I expected, Harry. In case like these a pattern is usually much more difficult to distinguish, however you seem to have a timetable about things. It makes my job a whole lot simpler…”

“Glad to oblige. Now, Hermione, if you would, please, go and get him. I’ve missed him today.”

Hermione beamed at him. “I’ll just do that…” She kissed his cheek and went out to Apparate to her childhood home.

“Harry,” said Kate. “What we’ve learned today is that your limit for concentration is about ten minutes, and your magical limit is nearer to seven. How that helps us is it enables us to schedule your therapy in those increments, thereby maximizing our time. Tomorrow, we’ll work on meditation so when you feel yourself losing track of a conversation, you can excuse yourself to prevent overload.”

“You could tell all that from what we did today?” he asked.

“Yes and if my timing is correct, I’ve got less than a minute to finish, so try to stay with me…Once you’ve reached the end of concentration ability, you become either irritable, confused or lost. If you try to overcome that, you get a headache. The severity depends on you. I have potions to help with all but the worst of them, so let me know.” She looked at her watch and back at Harry. She could see a spark of confusion beginning in his eyes, so she finished rapidly. “I can help you, Harry. You just have to let me.”

“Why?” Harry asked.

“Because I said so, now let’s head into the drawing room and rest our minds for a bit while I finish dinner.”

“Why?” he asked as she led him over by the fire.

“Because I said so...”

Harry stared at the fire until Hermione and Andrew arrived through it in a whirl of emerald flame. The boy ran over to Harry, shrieking, “Da!” Harry scooped him up and began bouncing him on his knee. Hermione went down to the kitchen to help with dinner. When she returned, her son and his father were having a crawling race on the floor.

She watched them silently for a few minutes silently until it dawned on her the reason Harry liked to be around the tot so much. They had similar attention spans. It fit with what Kate had told her. The two on the floor quickly forgot about the race and began stacking blocks. “Hey, guys,” she said. “Is anyone hungry?”

“Me!” giggled Andrew as Harry tickled him. The boy’s flailing legs knocked over the small tower they’d quickly built.

Hermione picked up her son and left the room with Harry trailing behind. “Harry, you used to be a wonderful cook. Did you want to try it again sometime? Planning meals and things would give you something to do…”

“You aren’t afraid I’ll burn down the house?” he asked.

“You wouldn’t on purpose, I know that, but Kate can help. It might be fun for you.”

“I’d better decline for now, I think, maybe later when I’m better.” Harry turned at the staircase and took a step to climb the stairs.

“Dinner is this way…” Hermione stated. “Or if you were going to wash up, you can do that in the kitchen as well…”

“Yeah, okay, thanks,” Harry replied.

The meal was a pleasant event. Harry wasn’t required to talk much. He busied himself with assisting Andrew. Hermione marveled at the way the two got along. It seemed like for the first time in quite awhile, she could enjoy her dinner without worrying about her son

Harry awoke with a massive migraine that no potion could relieve. His screams awoke everyone in the house, including Andrew, who was voicing his fright and displeasure loudly.

Kate attempted to talk Harry into returning to St Mungo’s to no avail. His anxiety at the thought increased the pressure within his head until he was sure it would burst. Hermione had cast a silencing charm on Andrew’s room and got the boy back to bed. She stayed with him as he slept. Her heart cried out for her to go back to Harry, but she knew her child must come first.

At long last, Harry quieted and fell into an exhausted sleep. Kate was sure he was still in agony, but too tired to react. She resolved to help him, whether he refused it or not. He needed to be in the hospital and she’d get him there, even if she had to stun him.

After a few nights of the same, Kate noticed that using magic was what was causing the migraines. She ended the magic lessons and everyone, except herself, slept peacefully.

The next morning, being Hermione’s day off, Kate went to discuss her patient with her superiors at the hospital. Having grown up hearing about ‘The-boy-who-lived’ her heart ached at the realization of the prognosis should her instincts prove to be correct.

She returned back to Grimmauld Place with a heavy heart. She found Harry happily chasing the small boy. Hermione was watching and laughing. The tall, red-haired man and his girlfriend were visiting as well. Harry looked like he hadn’t a care in the world.

“So this is what you get up to when I step out for a bit…” Kate teased.

Harry gave her a wide grin. “Can I help it if he’s more fun than you are?” Kate stared at him as he resumed his fun with the boy before she retired to her room.

Hermione shared a smile with Ron, who whispered, “I’m starting to see Harry in him. He hasn’t changed.”

“He has,” corrected Hermione, “but not as much as you and your dad thought.”

“How is doing…really?” asked Luna.

“He has good days and bad days…” she answered. “His headaches are worse. His disorientation is about the same, but now we know what to watch for so that he doesn’t get too far gone…”

“I’m so sorry, Hermione…” Luna uttered quietly.

Hermione smiled. “Don’t be. I’ve got him back. That’s what’s important.”

Ron lowered his voice even further. “Have you told him about…” He gave a subtle nod toward the boy. “Does he know?”

“No, it’s just too hard, Ron. He’s only got a limited time of coherence before he loses it. I can’t just drop that on him and leave it. When he gets a bit better, I’ll tell him.”

After dinner Hermione took Andrew up to bed. Harry wrapped his arm around her as she sat next to him. When the conversation proved too confusing for him to follow, he distracted himself by nuzzling Hermione’s neck until he was mentally ready to rejoin.

Ron looked at Hermione strangely. It was odd seeing his friend act so childishly. Before he could ask her about it, she gave a shake of her head, silently begging him not to. She mouthed toward Ron, “I’ll tell you later…”

“Kate seems nice,” said Luna.

“She’s alright, I guess,” Harry replied. “I’d feel better if I didn’t know she was watching me all the time. I’m getting better though, so I can’t complain.”

“Hermione said that she’s got you doing a bit of magic now. Congratulations,” said Ron.

“Yeah,” Harry grumbled. “It’s really hard, but I can do a bit of it…Want to see?”

“NO!” shouted Hermione. “I mean…I’m so comfortable right like we are. I don’t want you to get up…”

Harry smiled at her and kissed her temple. “Alright,” he said. “I won’t move then.”

Harry lost track of the discussion soon after that and fell asleep on Hermione’s shoulder. Ron levitated him up to his bed. Upon his return, he saw that Kate had joined the group. He sat back down by Luna, who leaned against him comfortably.

“I waited until Harry was asleep to come down,” Kate began. “I’ve talked to the Healers and wanted to discuss our findings with the both of you.”

“What’s wrong?” asked Hermione immediately.

“Magic can cure many ailments in our world. I began to get concerned when the pattern showed that his using the slightest bit of magic caused him such horrendous headaches. We need to him at the hospital to know for sure, but we think his magic is what’s keeping him alive. This coincides with the fact that such a powerful wizard can only perform the most elementary spells.”

“What does this mean?” asked Luna. “What is going to happen to him?”

“I hate to speak without knowing for sure. I’ll need to run some tests, but the Healers agree that at this point that he’s like a Muggle time-bomb. The magic he redirects outwardly as in casting spells means less magic is holding him together. He is slowly regaining his memories bit by bit in his dreams. That’s where the trouble lies. As his semantic memory is regained, he will know all of the magic he is capable of. His short term memory is about as good as it is going to get, so we are afraid he will cast spells that could kill him. He won’t remember that he’s not supposed to. That includes accidental magic, as well.”

Hermione gasped. “Can’t we have his magic bound so that he can’t cast the more complex spells?”

“We’ve thought of that, but it would also bind the magic that is trying to heal his damaged brain. We haven’t thought of any options yet, but our best guess is that he’s got only a few more weeks before he regains the memories that will be dangerous for him.”

“What do we do?” asked Ron. “Memory charm? Would that help?”

“That is what we are looking into and like I said, we need to run tests, but he’s so against the hospital, we’re afraid that the accidental magic will manifest itself and we are done before we ever get started. We’ll lose him before we can figure out how to help him.”

“That’s unacceptable,” Hermione stated. “I’m not losing him again. I won’t!”

Tear stains were evident on every face as they talked. “What if we Confund him?” asked Luna. “He’d not be able to discern where we were taking him.”

Hermione answered, “That’s an excellent option, but temporary. He’ll come out of it and we’ll be back where we started, and with the added challenge that he’d feel betrayed. Right, Kate?”

“What about everyday activities?” asked Ron. “Will any of those prove dangerous for him, even without magic?”

“Most should be alright. Is there a specific activity that you are questioning?” inquired the nurse.

Ron’s face turned a brilliant shade of red. “He and I were talking the other day. He admitted to having certain…er…dreams about…er…someone. He thinks they are a fantasy. I don’t know. Since you say his memories are returning in his dreams, and if he were to…act on these memories…”

“He’s had dreams about sex?” Hermione asked. “He told you that?”

“Actually, what he said was that he’s been having dreams about you, Hermione. I read the sex part between the lines…”

“What did he say exactly?” Kate asked.

“He asked if I thought Hermione fancied him still. He said that he’d had dreams about her. He wouldn’t say what happened in these dreams; he just got a goofy smile on his face…I could be reading more into it than there is, but, I got the distinct impression that he was trying to see where he stood with her and if a pass would be rejected.” He looked at Hermione who was wearing a small dreamy-eyed smile.

“I can ask the Healers if it would cause him any harm. In the meantime, we have to assume it will because of the magical properties of sex,” replied Kate.

“When did he talk to you about me?” Hermione asked.

“The other night, when you went to your mum’s with Andrew. We had a few drinks and talked some guy-talk. Why?”

“It just seems odd, that’s all,” she replied. “He keeps asking me whether or not he’s a virgin. Maybe he’s just figured it out is all…”

“Speaking of strange, Ron’s told me stories of how Harry used to wander the halls at night and stayed up so late. While I realize he’s hurt, but isn’t it odd that he sleeps so much?” asked Luna.

“When we were looking for the horcruxes, he’d take loads more watches than we did,” observed Hermione. “I know he’s always been a poor sleeper, but now you mention it…”

“Maybe he just needs it to heal…” offered Ron.

“Or maybe…” added Kate “…he’s wanting his memory back so badly that he’s trying his best to aid in that. I’ll keep an eye on that and let you know.”

The group talked a little more before calling it a night. After Ron and Luna left, Kate went up to her room across from Harry’s. Hermione returned to her own room she shared with Andrew.

Chapter 6

Harry had come to love weekends. It meant Hermione and Andrew would be most likely spending the day with him. Kate was fine as a companion, but it felt odd to be an adult with a minder. He knew she was a nurse; however the lessons made it seem more like he was being treated as a child. He missed practicing magic. He didn’t understand why they’d stopped. He knew there was a reason for it, but he couldn’t remember what that was.

Harry peeked into Hermione’s darkened bedroom. He saw her there sleeping, her face lit by the light of the breaking sunlight. She looked so very beautiful, so peaceful. The lines of worry that usually marred her face were gone. Knowing he was the cause of those lines, he resolved to work harder at getting better.

He looked across toward the cot where Andrew was quietly playing and smiled. Andrew looked up and saw him and beamed back at him. Harry held a finger to his lips, and then pointed at the sleeping woman in the bed. The child returned the gesture and raised his arms to be picked up. Harry walked in and lifted the boy, stealthily grabbed a few necessities and closed the door quietly behind him.

“Mum seepin,’” said Andrew as Harry carried him toward the loo.

“Yes, she’s tired. We should let her have a lie in,” responded Harry.

Harry quickly changed and dressed the squirming boy before heading down to the kitchen. Placing the boy in the highchair, he grabbed a handful of cereal and put it on the tray. He knew he only had a few more minutes before he would become distracted and mentally cursed his limitations. I should have left him with his mum, he thought to himself, I can’t watch him properly.

Kate entered to find Harry struggling to maintain clarity. “I can take over for now, Harry. Clear your mind…that’s it…just drift…you’ll be back with us in a few…”

Harry did as he was told. After a few minutes he opened his eyes. “Thanks,” he mumbled.

“No problem,” the nurse answered as she began to prepare breakfast. “What does this strapping young lad want for breakfast this morning? Toast…kippers…an omelet, perhaps?”

“Nothing for me, thanks…” said Harry glumly.

“You’ve got to eat something, coffee and toast? Tea?”

“Nothing, thanks,” Harry said more sternly and slammed from the room.

Hermione bustled into the kitchen, frantically looking for her son. Her features softened upon seeing his jelly-smeared face.

“Mum seepin’,” he said around the bits of toast he was chewing.

She raked a loving hand through his hair and found more jelly. “Yes, I was. Andrew must have been up early this morning…”

Andrew grinned and picked up another bit of toast as Kate explained, “Harry changed him and brought him down.”

“Is that safe?” Hermione asked, not really wanting to hear the answer. While she greatly enjoyed having a lie in, she didn’t want to endanger her son or cause his father any problems.

“He did fine,” Kate reassured her. “He had his nappy changed and dressed him. He must have felt himself slipping because he put him in the chair and gave him some cereal to occupy him until he could gather himself.”

“Where is Harry now?”

“If my guess is correct, he’ll be in his room feeling sorry for himself…”

Hermione looked toward the ceiling. “I’d better…”

“No, your omelet is ready. The worst thing you could do right now is baby him. He’ll come to his own realizations and come back down. Or a more probable scenario, is that he will have forgotten why he was upset and he’ll come back and join us as usual.

At that point, Harry strode through the door. “Good morning,” he called as he poured himself a cup of coffee. Taking a sip, he grimaced. “Do I normally drink this stuff?”

“No, Harry, you are more of a tea drinker. You like tea and pumpkin juice in the morning…” stated Hermione. “I’m the one that likes coffee.”

“Makes sense,” he said as he glanced around. “Er…”

“I’ll get it for you,” said Hermione rising. She added, “You can get the juice from the fridge…”

“Yeah, I’ll do that…” Harry said as he walked to the refrigerator. He looked inside for a long time.

“I just love that blue pitcher, don’t you?” Kate said.

“Yes, it has to be the nicest pitcher for pumpkin juice! The others I tried just didn’t keep it chilled as nicely.”

Harry spotted the blue jug, grabbed it and closed the door. He poured himself a large glass and drained it. “This is good!” he said wiping his mouth. “Have I had it before?”

“Yes,” stated Kate. “I believe it is a staple for all Hogwarts students…”

“Hogwarts is where we went to school, Harry…” explained Hermione in response to his confused look.

“Oh, that’s the place with the four poster beds, right?” Harry remembered aloud.

Hermione beamed at him. “Yes, it is!”

“I had a dream,” Harry explained. “Ron was there, right? His bed was across from mine.”

“I believe it was, Harry! That is so amazing!” Hermione gushed excitedly.

“What?” asked Harry. He had no idea what she was talking about. He figured he must have missed something again.

“Nothing,” Kate said in a casual tone. “We were just discussing your dream about Hogwarts…” then to Hermione she mouthed, “Too much…it overwhelmed him.”

“Hogwarts?” asked Harry. “What in the bloody hell is a Hogwarts?”

“Buddy Bell!! Buddy Bell!!” gurgled a giggling Andrew.

Hermione placed her hand over the boy’s sticky mouth to indicate he wasn’t to repeat it again.

“Hogwarts is where you went to school, Harry…” Kate explained in a tone that indicated that she would accept no foolishness.

“I don’t remember it…” admitted Harry.

“None of it?” asked Hermione as she got Andrew from his chair. She led the boy over to the sink and washed his hands and face with a flannel she kept there.

Harry thought hard and wondered why he couldn’t remember a school he’d supposedly attended.

“That’s alright, Harry,” soothed Kate before Harry could get upset. “I’m sure it’ll come to you later.”

“Why?” Harry asked clearly lost.

“Because I said so,” answered Kate. She served him his omelet and toast and directed him to sit.

Harry sat at the table and stared at the omelet. He picked up his fork and attempted to cut into the fluffy eggs. His fork slipped and the omelet slid into his lap. He swore viciously. Hermione cupped Andrew’s mouth before he could repeat it. Harry slid the plate hard away from him and stomped angrily from the room.

“What did I do wrong?” Hermione asked Kate. “It started so well…”

“Just remember not to baby him,” stated Kate. “I know it’s difficult, especially since you are used to dealing with Andrew, but Harry is an adult. You don’t have to praise his every accomplishment. Right now it confuses him and later he’ll distrust any praise.”

“How do I help him? How do I avoid…” she pointed at the mess the spilled food made.

“Maybe for the time being, cut it for him before you give it to him, but apologize, saying that you are accustomed to doing so for Andrew,” she clarified. Kate cast a warming charm on her own food and went to look for Harry. She found him on the top floor staring at the steps leading to the attic. “Did you want to explore the attic today? That sounds really interesting…”

Harry shrugged. “I got lost…”

“You haven’t eaten yet. Hermione is making you an omelet. Does that sound good?”

“Sure,” he sighed. “Might as well eat…”

Kate led Harry back into the kitchen where Hermione was scooping the omelet back onto Harry’s plate. “Thanks, Hermione,” he stated. “You didn’t have to cook for me…”

“It was no trouble at all,” she said following Kate’s cue. She cut the omelet into bite sized pieces. “Oh, I am sorry, Harry. I wasn’t thinking and started cutting it for Andrew, but he’s already eaten. Did you want me to make you another one?”

“No, this is fine,” Harry replied. “I have a bit of trouble anyway. Thanks.”

Harry ate while Andrew straddled his leg, as Harry gave him a ride up and down. The childish laughter filled the kitchen as the adults ate.

“Are we going to practice magic today,” Harry asked Kate once they left the kitchen.

“No, today is Saturday. We’ve no lessons planned,” she replied.

“I believe I’d like to visit my mum this afternoon,” Hermione said. “Would it be alright if I left Andrew here with you and Kate, Harry?”

“Sure, we’ll be fine,” answered Kate. “Will you be gone long? I was hoping to get some shopping done later…I can do it another day, if you’d like.”

“No, I think an hour or so should do it,” Hermione replied. “Why don’t I go now so you’ll have more time?”

Hermione arrived at her mother’s. Over tea and biscuits they discussed the changes in Hermione’s life. “I don’t know how to help him, Mum,” she cried. “If I don’t figure it out, I’ll lose him again.”

“Tell me what’s happening, Hermione dear,” her mother said smoothing her hair. “Maybe we can figure it out together…”

Hermione sobbed as she told her mother the latest of Harry’s prognosis and symptoms, his reluctance to go to the hospital, and all of the things she was facing with him. “It’s just so hard, Mum. I don’t know if I’m strong enough. In a way, he’s worse than Andrew. He just doesn’t remember from one minute to the next. Sometimes he’ll remember something from the past in his dreams, but in five minutes he has no idea what we were talking about. He gets lost in that house constantly. I am so grateful for Kate. I must have been mad to think I could have helped him on my own.”

“Maybe a smaller house would be better…” offered Mrs. Granger. “I’ve been to that house, remember? Five floors are a bit much for anyone. Take a bit of his savings and get something less overwhelming…”

“I don’t want to touch his money. He’ll need it…”

“…To live on and that is exactly what you are helping him do…besides that house is depressing enough, even for people who aren’t fraught with it. Find something cheery…”

Hermione’s face lit up. “You are undoubtedly the best…” She hugged her mother before making preparations to leave.

When she arrived back at the house, she asked Harry to watch Andrew for her while she chatted with Kate. “My mum suggested we find a smaller house or maybe a flat in order to give Harry less to wander about in. What do you think of the idea?”

Kate grinned. “I think it is wonderful! And I have the perfect solution, I think.” Hermione raised an eyebrow in anticipation. “My grandmother’s house is just like you are describing. It’s airy and cheerful. There’s plenty of room…and since she passed, it’s sat empty. I was planning to sell it. I just haven’t had the time. What do you think?”

“I think we’ll need to take a look at it…” Hermione grinned.

The two women went back into the playroom. They found Andrew riding again on Harry’s back. Harry was rearing like a hippogriff as Andrew held on laughing. Andrew yawned as Harry let him down gently.

“I’ll put the boy to bed while you two talk,” offered Kate.

“What’s up?” Harry asked almost harshly. “Not that I’ll remember it anyway, but please go ahead…”

Hermione led him into his bedroom and closed the door. “I’ve got an idea,” she began. “What do you think of living somewhere else…somewhere smaller?”

“Why?” asked Harry. Hermione couldn’t tell if he were truly asking or if she should let him rest a bit before proceeding. The latter sounded like a better option so she led him to his bed. “Lets’ just relax for a bit, and then we can talk…”

“Alright,” he said as he crawled under the blankets. She joined him and wrapped her arms around his shoulders. He kissed her gently. “Do you miss him?”

“Miss who?”

“Your Harry,” he said sadly. “I’ve tried to be him for you but I can’t. I’m Trey. I’m afraid that Trey is all I’ll ever be…”

“Don’t be ridiculous,” she chided tenderly. “You are one and the same, no matter what label you put on yourself.”

“I don’t want you to leave me…” he admitted.

“That won’t happen,” she responded pulling him closer.

She leaned her forehead against his. “We were thinking that a smaller house might be easier for you. Would that bother you?”

“No. I think this place has sentimental attachment for Harry, but it doesn’t for me…”

“Would you want to sell it?” she asked.

“I don’t think so,” he answered. “Maybe one day I’ll remember some things and regret not having it. I know we need the money, but…”

Hermione shushed him. “You’ve got plenty of money,” she said. “You are quite wealthy, as a matter of fact….”

“I am?” he asked as he struggled to maintain his attentiveness.

“Yes, you are.” She kissed him again. “We can talk about that later as well. Why don’t you rest for a bit?”

“Stay with me?”

“Let me check on Andrew and I’ll be right back.”

When she returned Harry was already asleep. She noticed his journal on the desk and brought it with her to his bed. As if noticing she’d returned, he rolled onto his side and curled into her.

She marveled at the detail of his writing. Some pages were his same spiky scrawl, while others were more haphazardly written as if by a child. He’d arranged the pages into separate lists. One page read: ‘Things I remember from childhood,’ another said: ‘Did this really happen?’ She read the headings quickly before stopped and read carefully the page titled, ‘Questions I shouldn’t ask.’

1. Who is Andrew’s father and why is he not in his life?
2. Why did I kill that man?
3. Where are my parents?
4. When am I going to be well enough to leave here to go out in public?
5. Did Hermione really love Harry and can she love Trey?

Hermione made a mental note to answer his questions as soon as was practical. She banished the book back to the desk and pocketed her wand. She was heartened to know that he’d noticed Andrew’s lack of paternal influence. She’d been sure it never crossed his mind. With resolve she snuggled into him and fell asleep as well.

She awoke to find she was lying on top of a still sleeping but obviously aroused Harry. She moved to get away, but found herself trapped by his arms. “Harry,” she whispered. “You need to let me go…”

“This is nice, though,” he mumbled.

“It’s very nice,” she answered, “but that doesn’t make it right.”

Harry’s eyes flew open. “I-I’m s-s-sorry,” he stammered, his face red. “I was dreaming and…I’m sorry.” He released her at once.

“Don’t be,” she said softly. “It was very nice, but also dangerous. Maybe one day soon we can explore this, just not now, alright?” He nodded and pulled the pillow over his face. “I think,” she said with a wink, “if you want to hide the evidence, you should move the pillow lower…”

He responded by throwing it at her. She giggled as she left the room.

Kate had returned and was starting dinner. Hermione thought she seemed upset. “Is everything alright?” she asked.

“You tell me…” Kate responded tersely.

“Have I done something?” Hermione tried again.

“We need to run tests, Hermione. I thought you understood that.”

“I do understand that. What’s the problem?”

“It is considered unethical to sleep with a man as mentally challenged as Harry is. In fact it’s quite dangerous. I realize he’s very attractive and I’m sure you treasure your little trip down memory lane, but sex right now can kill him!”

“I didn’t have sex with him,” Hermione snapped. “We both stayed fully clothed, I assure you.”

“You are playing with fire and I don’t want my patient to be the one getting burned…”

Hermione softened. “Kate, please listen to me. I’ve listened to everything you’ve said as well as done some research on my own. He seemed very vulnerable when we went into his room. I held him and comforted him. We fell asleep, that’s all.”

“So nothing happened?”

“No, nothing happened. I awoke in a compromising position, still fully clothed. I convinced him to let me go and told him that we can’t until he’s better. I’m telling you this because you need to know that my commitment to Harry is for a lifetime. I’m not some hormone-ridden teenager who cannot control herself. I know the risks and quite frankly, I’m a little insulted that you think so little of me.”

Kate grinned widely. “Forgive me for doubting you…”

Hermione returned the smile. “Nothing to forgive…. It’s nice to know that you care so much for him. We are on the same team, now let me tell you about his book…”

As they were talking, Harry entered and poured himself a cup of coffee. He scowled as he asked, “Do I normally drink this? It’s horrible…”

Kate and Hermione suppressed a chuckle at his expression. Hermione said, “No, you hate it. Your tea is in the yellow teapot…”

“I should put a note on this then so I don’t have to taste it…” He shuddered.

Kate and Hermione shared a look. “That’s a brilliant idea,” said Kate.

Hermione took over, “We can label things to remind you where to go…”

“And what things are…” added Kate with excitement.

“So you won’t get lost or distracted!” Hermione finished. “Just think of it, Harry. If you want something to drink, just look for the note to find your favorite.”

“Or if you need to use the loo, it’ll say that on the door…”

“That could work…” Harry responded noncommittally.

Kate jumped up and grabbed her wand. “Let’s get started!” Hermione followed her out of the room.

“We’ll still need a smaller house, but this should help in the meantime…” said Hermione.

“I can show you the house tomorrow. Should we take the Knight bus?”

Hermione scowled. “No, it’ll take longer, but I’ll borrow Mum’s car. I want to avoid subjecting Harry to the chaos as long as possible. Did you see the Prophet this morning?”

“Yes, I did. It’s as if the wolves have scented their prey. Who is taking care of the fan mail he’s been getting?”

“That would be Ron and Luna. Harry’s post is being directed to Ron’s flat and they share the task of opening it and responding.”

Harry entered the drawing room and stammered, “Er…I…er…”

“Need some help, love?” Hermione asked. However Andrew made his presence known and Kate was left to assist Harry.

“What happened?” she asked.

“I was hungry…” Harry stated as if that explained everything.

Kate walked into the kitchen expecting to find a major disaster. Instead she found it in the same lived-in state in which it was left. “Was there a problem?”

“I wanted something and…it’s hard and crunchy…salty…”

“You wanted some crisps?” Kate asked.

“Crisps?” echoed Harry. Kate got the crisps from the cupboard and handed them to him. “Yeah…thanks.”

Kate smiled. Harry followed her out, loudly crunching. Hermione looked at them questioning. “Any trouble?”

“No,” answered Kate. “He just couldn’t find what he was looking for…”

Andrew came over to share the crisps with Harry. He scuttled up into his lap and the two immediately began a contest to see who could crunch their crisps louder. Hermione asked Kate, “Why do you respond, ‘Because I said so,’ to him when he asks why?”

Kate chuckled. “It’s his defensive mechanism. He loses the conversation and asks, ‘Why?’ to put the ball back in your court. Explaining further only confuses him more, so I use the old parental standby. It doesn’t matter what you answer; you could say anything at all. It would make no difference. He’s finished anyway…”

“How do you know he’s not really asking?”

“Look in his eyes,” Kate responded. “They’ll have a far away look if he’s distracted. He’ll be looking right at you, if he’s not.”

“I’ll have to keep that in mind….”

After Andrew’s bedtime came the discussion Hermione dreaded. “Harry,” she began. “I’d like to talk to you about something…” Harry looked at her intently. “Kate and I think a smaller house would be a bit easier for you. Her grandmother’s house is vacant and from what she says, would fit the bill. We want to take you to look at it, but we don’t want to cause you unnecessary stress.”

“What’s stressful about looking at a house?” he asked.

“Well, the Daily Prophet, our newspaper, has gotten wind that you are back. They have been relentless in trying to find you…”

“Why?” Harry asked.

Hermione looked deep in his eyes before answering. “Remember I told you that you are famous in our world? This is a part of that. The Ministry wants you for publicity and the public wants to see you. If this house weren’t Unplottable, you’d have been found already…”

“…so can’t Remus make a new house Unplottable?”

“I can certainly ask him, if you’d like. What I need to know is: are you okay with changing houses?”

Harry chuckled. “Do you really think it matters? I can’t usually remember where I am from room to room, much less house to house…”

Hermione smiled at him warmly. “Will you be alright going to look at it in the morning?”

“I don’t see a problem…”

Hermione took a deep breath before continuing, “Can we stop by St. Mungo’s afterward and let the Healers see if they can do anything to help you?”

“So that’s what this house thing is about…a ruse,” he snarled. “No thanks, I’m not going back there.”

“If it were a trick, I wouldn’t have talked to you about it….” She leaned over and kissed him soundly. “I’ll use any means I have to in order to help you.”

Harry snorted. “I know I don’t remember stuff sometimes, but I’m fine, really I am.”

Hermione decided that the only way to get his agreement was to play dirty. She climbed into his lap. “This afternoon you made it clear that the idea of the two of us engaging in a physical relationship appealed to you as much as it appealed to me. What I’m asking you to do is to find out once and for all from the Healers if that is possible. I’ll go with you and stay by your side….” She quickly finished seeing that his was reaching the end of his concentration. “Please do this for me, Trey….I don’t want to trick you into going, but I swear to you, I will if it is necessary…” She had used his former name on purpose, making it plain that it was him she wanted, whether or not he remembered being Harry Potter.

He kissed her again before agreeing. “Don’t let them tie me up, please?” His voice sounded small and scared. She nodded her agreement before resuming the kiss. She only hoped he remembered approving the hospital visit. She ran her tongue across his lips to beg entry. He complied readily.

As his hands slid down her back, her guard raised. She nonchalantly moved his hands to a better location. His right hand slid to her stomach and began inching up her torso. “Harry, no,” she said firmly against his lips. She slapped at his roaming hands. It felt almost as if she were wrestling an octopus. “Harry, stop it,” she told him more sternly.

“Why do we have to stop?” he demanded flopping back against the couch cushions. “Tell me that…please.”

“We have to stop because it could be dangerous for you. You aren’t feeling well enough…”

Harry grinned at her. “I’m feeling pretty good about now…”

Hermione laughed. “Alright, Mr. I-Can-Handle-Anything, what did we have for dinner? No? How about, what was your best subject in school? Still nothing? What was your mother’s name?”

“You don’t play fair…” he grumbled. “I just…”

“You just want to make love and I want that, too. We just have to wait until the Healers say that it won’t hurt you…”

“I hate Healers…” he scowled.

“I know you do, love. We can continue this if you promise to behave…”

“Why?” he asked losing attention.

“Because I said so…”

Chapter 7

In the early morning hours, Hermione arose to find Harry awake and staring into the now cold fireplace. “Are you alright, Harry?” she asked as she padded over toward him.

He shrugged. “I…can’t…remember…”

“How are you feeling?”

“Tense…afraid….don’t know why…”

She was unsure if it was better to leave him oblivious to the reason behind his discomfort or to tell him again of the plan. “I can understand that…” she said soothingly.

“Can you?” he asked plaintively.

“Yes, I can. You are tired of putting on this brave front when really you’re frightened that you can’t remember things. You can’t remember any of us all of the time and are afraid to show it.”

“I don’t forget you…” he admitted. “At least not who you are…”

“I know that, love. Hermione is a really hard name and you remember it so much of the time. In fact, I can’t remember a time when you’ve not remembered it…”

“Sometimes when I’m really messed up, I’ll avoid saying any names. I can’t get them wrong then…”

“Alright, here’s a little test. I’ll give you a name and you tell me who it is…alright?”

“Okay, but…”

“I know. You aren’t able to do this for very long…I promise if you start having trouble, I’ll stop…agreed? Okay, then Ron…”

“He’s the tall, ginger-haired fellow. He was my friend in school?”

“Yes, he was. What else?”

Harry’s face screwed up in concentration. “He’s got a large family. He dates Luna and works at the Ministry?”

“Is that everything?”

“That’s all.”

“Nicely done. How about Remus?”

“He’s my friend. He’s a bit hairy and tired looking. He’s a good teacher, too bad I was such a rotten student…”

“You weren’t a bad student. Now, anything else?” Harry shook his head. “What about Andrew?”

Harry’s eyes were losing their focus as he struggled to answer. “He’s so sweet. He’s your son. And…and…and…”

“You did fine,” Hermione said as she ran her hand through his hair. He rested his head against her palm. “Don’t worry about anything; I’ll be there for you…” Harry reclined back against the cushions and fell asleep. Hermione covered him with a blanket before she padded back up the stairs to her own room.

The next morning, Harry awoke in a terrible mood. His head was throbbing and he was tired. He was having trouble remembering the slightest things. Kate and Hermione had posted signs on all of the doors. He found the loo alright for once, but lost his way back to the kitchen. He did remember to shout, however. “Where the bloody hell did you move the kitchen?”

Ron came barreling up the stairs. “Easy, mate,” he said. “You’ll wake the ghouls in the attic…”

“Very funny, Ron,” Harry chided.

“No,” Ron corrected. “I was serious…” Harry followed Ron down to the kitchen. He went straight to the coffeepot and started to pour a cup, when he read the note: ‘Harry, you don’t like this. Try the yellow pot…’

He poured a cup from the yellow pot and drank, closing his eyes against the soothing taste. “That’s really good,” he said. “Thanks.”

Kate was making bacon, sausages and toast for breakfast. She set out an extra plate for Ron, who going to assist with Harry, leaving Kate and Hermione free to look over the features of the house. They neglected to remind Harry of the visit to the hospital, which was Ron’s real reason for joining them.

“Why is everything so small?” asked Ron, who received a glare from Kate in response.

“Because the invalid can’t cut his own food without making a mess,” grumbled Harry as he served himself some eggs.

“You are not an invalid, Harry,” Ron replied. “Do I smell scones?”

“Learn to keep your gob shut and you just may get some…” complained Kate.

“Sorry,” mumbled Ron. He looked at Harry who was still scowling. “Where’s Hermione? I thought she was coming with us…”

“She took Andrew over to her mum’s,” replied Kate. “She’ll be back shortly, and then we can go.”

Harry pushed the food around on his plate, not eating a bite. He almost smiled as Ron snuck sausages onto his own plate from Harry’s. He liked Ron he decided. He couldn’t remember why he was supposed to be leery of him, so he decided to not worry about it.

Hermione raced back into the kitchen panting. “Are you ready to go, Harry?”

“Where are we going?” he asked.

“To look at a house…”

“Don’t we have one?” Harry asked.

“We might like a bit of a smaller house. So… that…Andrew doesn’t get lost…”

Harry’s face showed panic. “Don’t leave me…” He jumped up and threw his arms around her.

“I’m not,” she smiled. “If we decide to move, you are coming as well…”

Harry looked at her in a distrustful manner. “Why?”

Hermione smiled sweetly at him. “Because I said so…”

“Alright,” he replied as he followed her out of the house. When they got into the car, Ron helped Harry with his seatbelt, as he’d nearly strangled himself with it. He then cast a Disillusionment charm on Harry. Harry spent the entire trip staring at different parts of his body as they took on the look of various parts of the car.

Soon they had arrived. Ron unbuckled Harry as Kate and Hermione exited the car. Hermione looked at the quaint bungalow and grinned. Kate returned her smile as she unlocked the door. The house had only one floor and the exterior made it look much smaller than it actually was. The entrance hall was painted a bright sunny yellow and opened into a cozy drawing room. The sunlight shone through the windows and brightened the entire room. Hermione loved it already, even though she’d been there mere minutes. Every room had sunlight streaming in the windows, aided by magic, Hermione supposed.

She liked how the bedrooms were clustered together at the back of the house. Each room was a sort of wedge shape and was connected by a keyhole-shaped hallway. “This is perfect!” Hermione exclaimed. “Harry will love it!” It was then she noticed that Harry had not followed them inside. “Ron!” she called as she hurried back out of the house. She found Ron standing over Harry who was fast asleep in the grass by a small pond.

“Is he alright?” she asked.

“Yeah, he’s fine. I hit him with an Impediment Jinx. He dropped and went to sleep…He’s mental…”

“He didn’t sleep very well last night. I found him still awake at five this morning. He must have only slept a couple of hours….”

“That’s the Harry I used to know!” cried Ron. “Maybe he’s getting back to normal…”

“That’s just wishful thinking, Ron,” she stated mournfully. “He’s different than he was. He might not get any better than he is right at this very minute…I’ve come to terms with that and I believe you should, too. We’ll know more after his tests, but this could be as normal as it gets…”

“But he’s…”

“Shush!” Hermione admonished not wanting Harry to hear. “Let’s take a walk…” The pair walked around the garden. Hermione let Ron vent and just listened passively. When he was finished, she laid a hand on his arm. “I know it’s very hard. He’s stubborn and prideful. Being so weak is killing him as sure as him using magic is. You need to learn to fake it, Ron. Pretend that it’s normal for him to drink a cup of coffee every morning then complain that he doesn’t like it. Pretend that everyone forgets how to get to the loo. He can’t get any better if he is so depressed. You did a good thing that night you came over to talk guy-talk with him. It made him feel normal and that’s exactly what can help him now. He’s going to be very upset once we get to the hospital. He doesn’t remember he’s supposed to go. He’s going to feel betrayed and frightened. I need you to be the one on his side. He needs an advocate. Be the loyal friend that you’ve always been to him.

“Even if I have to fake it…” Ron finished for her.

“Now you’ve got it,” she smiled. “Let’s wake him up and show him the house.”

When they got back to the pond, Harry had decided to go in the water fully dressed. Ron waded in after him and brought him to the shore. Luckily, the water was only chest deep. Ron cast a drying charm on them both, which Harry pronounced, ‘cool’ and led him into the house.

“What do you think, Harry?” Hermione asked expectantly. “Could you be comfortable here?”

“If you like it,” Harry answered evenly. “Whatever you and Andrew want is fine…”

“Andrew and I want you to be happy,” she answered him. “Which bedroom did you want?”

“It doesn’t matter. I won’t be living here for long…”

Hermione was used to his gloomy proclamations by this time. “Well, while you are here, which do you prefer?”

Harry chose the red painted bedroom. “See?” Ron said. “Once a Gryffindor, Always a Gryffindor!” Harry hadn’t the foggiest what he was talking about, so he smiled at the tone Ron used. The room had its own bath and French doors opened out onto a terrace overlooking the garden.

Hermione and Kate agreed readily on a price before signing papers to buy it. Kate had placed several butterbeers in the fridge, just in case. She gave them each one. “I like this stuff!” Harry pronounced upon tasting it.

“You always have, mate…” said Ron. Harry smiled at him.

Soon all of their business had been concluded. Hermione was a bit disappointed that Harry hadn’t shown more enthusiasm about their new home. She hid her frustration and decided to deal with it later. She justified to herself that in his current mood, his reaction to butterbeer was surprising.

They arrived at St. Mungo’s quickly. Ron grabbed Harry’s arm and tugged him from the car. Fortunately for them, Harry was drawing a blank on what this building was. Harry followed along quietly. Hermione thought he was a bit too quiet given his reaction to suggestions of coming here before.

“What is this place?” Harry asked.

Hermione answered matter-of-factly, “It’s a hospital. Remember? We talked about some tests the Healers were going to run? Kate worked here before she came to live with us…”

“What tests?” Harry asked in a panic. “Who is getting tested?”

“The Healers want to see if they can help you, Harry. We talked about it last night. I promised you then and I promise you now, that I’ll stay with you. I won’t let them tie you down unless absolutely necessary…”

“Who gets to decide what’s necessary?” Harry’s voice cracked in sheer terror.

“I will,” stated Hermione firmly. “If they suggest it, and if I agree, I will talk to you and tell you why. Is that fair?”

“Fair?” Harry nearly screamed. “You’re just trying to get rid of me! You lied!” He began clutching his head in agony.

Hermione spoke in a firm yet soft voice. “Harry, please settle down. I didn’t lie to you. I told you all about this, remember?”

“Liar!”

Ron stepped between Harry and Hermione. “Harry? Trey? Hermione isn’t lying, mate.”

“And why should I believe you?” Harry panted. “Who are you people?” Harry slid down the wall, still grasping his head. Kate hit him with the Petrificus Totalis jinx. Harry stiffened as Kate levitated him and started down the hall. Ron held Hermione back.

“Are you alright?” he asked her.

She wiped her face and nodded. “I’ve got to go with him. I promised.”

She and Ron followed Kate into the lift. When they arrived at Ward Forty-nine, Kate lowered Harry onto the bed. “Are you going to be good?” she asked him. Harry shot daggers at her in return. He fought against drinking the calming draught she offered, however being petrified made his struggle useless. Soon he looked very relaxed, though still holding his head. Hermione, Kate and Ron worked together to remove his clothes and get him into a gown.

The Healer came in and examined him thoroughly. He called Kate into the hall to discuss her findings and compare them with his. Hermione went to Harry’s side and stroked his hair. He leaned into her palm and gave a little moan of pain. She whispered in his ear that she was there and wouldn’t leave. He closed his eyes and leaned against her stomach. Ron brought her a chair which she sat on and pulled him into her arms.

“Is he calm now?” the healer asked as he preceded Kate into the room.

“I think so,” Kate answered. “I gave him a calming draught. He was hysterical…”

“I don’t blame him,” the Healer answered. He took Harry’s face in his hands and spoke directly to him, looking him in the eye. “Mr. Potter, when you were here before, we were under the impression that you may have been cursed. When those tests came back normal, we allowed you to leave. Now we know that your behavior is caused by head trauma, we can maybe help you with that. Do you understand what I am telling you?”

Harry looked at him blankly. The Healer released Harry, who promptly fell asleep, and ordered Kate to write down what he was saying in order for Harry to read it later. Kate got out a Quick-Quotes Quill and set it to write as the Healer spoke. “Now, I’ve examined you magically and your magic is taxed to the limit. It’s taking every gram of your magic to keep you alive, like Kate suggested. What we need to do is help that along. I’d feel better if you were admitted, but I know that isn’t an option. I’m ordering you a very strong analgesic potion for your headaches.”

“What side effects should we watch for?” asked Hermione.

The Healer grinned. “You’ll know. As the headache lessens, he’ll feel as high as a kite…almost giddy even, for a few hours. I can’t do anything about his memory, but Kate tells me it is returning bit by bit. What worries me is his short-term memory. I can’t heal it without damaging some other part of his brain. With luck, it may get better on its own; I doubt it, but look who we are talking about….”

“So, what you are saying is that he’ll likely remember his past in time, but the present will be shaky for him…” Ron summarized.

“Exactly, Mr. Weasley, it won’t get any worse, but I don’t think it’ll get much better. I’m going to curse him before you go. It’s an experimental use of nearly a dark curse.” Hermione and Ron gasped. Kate laid a hand on Hermione’s arm. “What it is designed to do is not exactly bind his magic, but prevent his magic from manifesting outwardly. In other words, he’ll still have his magic, but he won’t be able to cast spells or even perform accidental magic. All of his considerable magic will be used within to aid in healing. But like I said, the short term memory is about as good as it is going to get…”

“Will he be able to lead a productive life?” asked Hermione.

“If you are asking if he’ll be able to work, the answer is no. However, if you are asking if he can lead a normal life and do normal things, then the answer is probably.”

“Will this curse affect his sexuality?” Kate asked with a wink toward Hermione. Ron made himself busy by studying his shoes.

“In a way, yes, but it’s not a bad thing. He can experience sex without the magical exchange…like a Muggle, perhaps.”

“But it wouldn’t be dangerous for him…” asked Hermione.

“No, not at all,” the Healer answered. “It won’t be as fulfilling as magical sex, but Muggles don’t seem to mind and Harry, here, won’t know any difference for quite awhile, if ever.

“What about the depression? Isn’t this news going to make things worse for him?”

“It depends, really,” answered the Healer. “I’m sure you lot can find enough things to keep him occupied? He can be trusted alone with your son for no longer than ten minutes at a time. The notes you’ve thought of is an excellent idea. Each little step toward independence is a step away from depression. You’ve noticed that he sleeps more…that is to be expected. If he can’t sleep, give him a mild sleeping draught. We don’t want to use the Dreamless Sleep Potion, since that is the very way his memories are returning.”

“So, in time, he’ll remember everything from his past?” asked Ron excitedly.

“I hesitate to say everything,” the Healer responded. “I don’t think he’ll remember the days before and after the final battle with You-know-who, but from what I’ve heard, that isn’t exactly a negative. Now, I’ve got more patients to see. Kate has my notes and can answer most of your questions. If not, send me an owl. For now, take this man home…Kate has all of the potions you’ll need. I’d like for you all to step right outside for a minute while I administer the curse…”

“I promised him I’d stay with him…: Hermione objected.

“Kate will be with him. He won’t be awake.”

Hermione ruefully left behind Ron and waited in the hall. After a few minutes, Kate retrieved them to assist in getting Harry dressed and ready to go. They returned to find an extremely groggy Harry. Ron hoisted him over his shoulder with a shrug, (‘it’s faster this way…’) and carried him out to the car.

Once back at Grimmauld Place, Ron once again carried him. Hermione followed as Ron deposited Harry on his bed. Hermione motioned Ron toward the desk and showed him Harry’s journal. Even though it was an invasion of Harry’s privacy, she felt that Ron should read it in order to understand what his friend was dealing with. Ron picked up the book and sat by Harry’s bed to read it. Tears coursed down his cheeks as he read. Seeing it in print made him realize how very hard Harry was trying to get better and more importantly, how badly he was struggling.

Hermione retrieved her son and arrived back before dinner. Harry was still sleeping. Ron met her in the drawing room after she had put Andrew down for his nap. “Tell him…” Ron stated almost angrily. “Give him something to cling to.”

“I will, Ron, soon, I promise.”

“Why have you kept it from him all this time? I never thought you to be possessive…”

“It’s not that, really!” she argued. “It’s just…” Hermione sighed deeply. “What if it backfires? What if it makes him feel worse that he can’t care for his own son? I don’t want to add to the things he feels depressed about.”

“Hermione, you have his dream…the same dream he’s had since we met him…you’ve made it come true. He has a family. Andrew already calls him, ‘Da’. How long before he figures it out on his own. He’s probably figured it out quite a few times, come to think of it…” Ron chuckled.

“That’s not funny!” Hermione complained through giggles of her own. “I can’t believe we are laughing about this…”

“You know…” smirked Ron. “We could take the mickey out of him constantly and he’d never realize…Think about it. He’d get angry, then forget five minutes later…”

“You wouldn’t!” Hermione said astonished.

Ron grinned, “No, probably not, but it’s quite the intriguing thought….”

Ron left for a bit to fill his parents in on Harry’s latest saga. Mrs. Weasley made him another treacle tart for Ron to bring back. He was almost back in time for dinner.

It was taking all of Harry’s energy to not fall back to sleep with his face planted in his stew. Hermione was insistent that he needed to eat. He propped his head on one arm and stared at the bowl in front of him.

“He should be in bed…that curse is very powerful…”

“He needs to keep his strength up,” Hermione replied. “He hasn’t eaten all day.”

“He’s not eating now,” observed Ron. “He’s just kind of looking at it…”

“Da eat, too…” coaxed Andrew.

Harry smiled at the boy before attempting to pick up his spoon. After two near misses, he abandoned the effort and stared some more. Hermione offered him a bite of her stew. He knew he should do something, but couldn’t think of what that might be…

“Open your mouth, Harry,” Hermione requested. He complied. After a few more bites, his eyes closed more until they could have used floss as a blindfold. Ron levitated him back upstairs and into bed fully dressed.

Harry awoke early the next morning and immediately began writing in his journal. He read the previous entries and finally began putting the pieces of his own personal puzzle together. He dressed and found the door marked, ‘Loo’ and went in to ready himself for the day.

He surprised Kate upon entering the kitchen. “I wasn’t expecting you up and about today, Harry,” she mentioned.

“I’m fine,” he said. “Feeling much better...” He looked at the notes on the two pots and poured himself some tea. Kate poured him a glass of pumpkin juice, which he downed quickly. Helping himself to bacon and toast, he ate quietly.

Hermione came in and kissed him on the top of his head. “Good morning,” she called as she poured herself some tea. Harry smiled back at her and continued eating.

“Are we going to be doing lessons today, Kate?” he asked.

“For a bit,” Kate responded. “We need to start deciding what you’ll want to pack as well.”

“Pack?” Harry asked.

“We bought a smaller house, remember?” prompted Hermione.

“No, but I’m sure it is fine. When can I see it?”

“We’ll take you there later today, if that’s alright?” Kate suggested.

“That’s fine, of course. I’ll be in my room until you are ready to start lessons, alright?”

Kate nodded her assent. Harry kissed Hermione’s cheek on his way out. “Did you get the rest of the signs up?” Kate asked. “He seems to be in a better mood this morning and I don’t want to lose it. His success rate is highly dependant on his disposition…”

“No, I…” Her words were cut off by the sound of her name being called by Harry. She raced out to find him looking around. He appeared more to be in deep thought than confused.

“Which way is my room?” he asked. Hermione showed him and while she was there she conjured a note for his door. It said, ‘Harry’s Room’. When she was finished she heard Andrew waking as well. “Want me to dress him?” Harry asked.

“That would be helpful, thanks,” Hermione beamed as she started back down the steps.

Harry brought a still yawning Andrew into the kitchen and put him in his chair. “Oh, good, bacon and toast!” Harry said as he poured himself a cup of tea. He served himself another plate and began to eat. “This is really good. Thanks, Kate.” He pronounced as Kate served him another glass of pumpkin juice.

Kate and Hermione shared a smile, but didn’t dare say anything as they sipped their coffee.

Harry was getting frustrated. Kate was working with him on his fine motor skills. She’d conjured a series of Muggle washers, bolts and wing nuts. He was supposed to pick up a bolt, add a washer and then put on the nut. He was concentrating as hard as he could, but he never really managed to get one correct. “Bolt, washer, nut…you can do this…bolt, washer, nut…” he told himself aloud.

“That’s right, Harry…bolt, washer, nut…” Kate repeated. He tried again and forgot the nut this time. “Let’s move on to something different and come back to this…” Kate suggested.

“NO, I want to get it!” Harry protested. After several more minutes, Harry’s concentration faltered. He growled in frustration after trying to pick up a bolt to chuck it across the room and not being able to.

“Harry, let’s move onto something else, please…” Kate said again. “But first I want you to clear your mind….that’s it…think of a time when you are happy. It doesn’t have to be real….you just need to escape into that time” Harry’s face relaxed into a complete picture of peace. “Tell me what you see…”

“I see me and I’m flying…I seem to be riding…something…it looks like a broom? That can’t be right…”

“Don’t worry about what is right or wrong, Harry….just escape…now tell me more…”

“I feel the wind in my face. I’m smiling. Hermione is in the stands cheering and…Ron is on another broom grinning at me…we seem to be wearing some sort of uniform and there are others dressed like us, only some are wearing a different color.”

“Okay, are you ready to come back and work some more?”

Harry nodded, opened his eyes, and smiled. “What was that?” he asked.

“I believe you were thinking of quidditch. It’s a sport in the magical world. You were very good at it…”

Harry’s smile turned into a wide, almost cocky, grin. “I’m good!” he said with pride.

Kate chuckled. “Back to work, Mr. Quidditch Star…I’m going to show you some pictures and I want you to tell me who it is. If you know more about it, tell me that, too. What we are trying to accomplish is to train your mind to look for things in alternate ways. For example, you remember where the kitchen is, but you’ve forgotten how to get there, you follow Hermione’s notes, right?”

“Right,” Harry answered.

“You learned another way to reach your destination. What we need to do is to get your mind to operate the same way…we’ll leave mental notes for your brain to follow to reach your memories. That way, once you’ve healed as much as possible, you’ll have a new way already established to go around the damaged area and scar tissue to access your thoughts. What we hope to gain by this is to lessen or possibly eliminate your inability to concentrate. Are you ready?”

“Just a second, please,” Harry said. He closed his eyes and let her words sink in. He, then, saw himself flying again. When he was prepared he opened his eyes. “Ready,” he said and received a wide smile in return.

Kate wanted to praise him on his capacity to realize he was losing concentration and taking steps himself. She didn’t say anything, though. She’d wait until he was finished. She held up a photograph.

“That’s…er…just a second…it’s a wand. It’s used to channel magic. I’ve got one.”

“Correct,” Kate stated before holding up another picture.

“That’s an owl….” Harry said.

“Whose owl?”

“Ron’s?” Kate shook her head. “Hermione’s? Yours? Errrrr….Mine?”

Kate nodded. “Know anything about it?”

“Well, if I can’t even remember I’ve got one, how can I remember anything about her?”

“Oh, so she’s a girl, is she?” Kate replied with a grin.

“Yes, and her name is…her name is…her name is…She’d be right put out with me if she knew I couldn’t remember her name. I mean I’ve only had her…” Harry’s eyes lit up. “…since Hagrid bought her for my eleventh birthday!”

“That’s enough for now, Harry. You did really well today!”

“No, you can’t stop now! I remembered something!” Harry protested.

“We are taking this slowly, Harry.”

Harry laid a hand to his temple. “I don’t want to go slowly! I want to remember everything!”

“No, we’ll go at the pace I set, just don’t expect to make this kind of progress every day, alright? Now how bad is your headache?”

“It is fine,” he answered removing his hand self-consciously.

“I’ll put it another way, Mr. Macho, if I were to put the analgesic potion on the table in front of you, would you drink it?”

Harry lowered his eyes to the floor and mumbled, “In a bloody heartbeat…”

“You don’t have to be so stoical with me, Harry. I won’t judge you,” Kate said as she went to get the potion.

When she returned, Harry was looking through the pictures intently. She could see by the perspiration beading on his face that she should have taken them with her. He was overdoing things and was suffering for it. She placed the potion in front of him, which he grabbed and drank immediately. He made a face as he swallowed the bitter liquid before letting his head drop onto the table. He didn’t move until he was called for lunch.

Hermione stopped home on her lunch break to drop off Andrew. “Should I take him back to Mum’s?” she asked Kate.

“No, I can help watch him, just like we discussed….”

“Shush!” Harry said from his spot which he hadn’t moved from.

Kate pointed a thumb toward Harry. “Someone tried to overdo while my back was turned…He’ll be fine in a bit. I gave him his potion a while ago.”

“Da seepin’…” Andrew said softly, “Shhhhhh!” He put his little index finger to his lips.

Hermione and Kate smiled at him. “Why don’t you lie down for a bit, Harry,” Hermione whispered. “When your feeling better I’m sure Andrew will still want to play…”

Once Harry left, Kate called Hermione over to talk softly. Hermione put Andrew in his highchair and gave him some vegetables to eat while they talked. “You would have been so proud of him, Hermione….” Kate began. “I was just amazed. If I explain why we are doing an exercise, he picks up on it quicker. He recognized when he was getting distracted…PLUS, he remembered a bit from his first year!”

Chapter 8

Harry went up the steps forgetting where he was headed. He saw the door marked ‘Harry’s Room’ and went inside. He fell across his bed and closed his eyes. Everything seemed too loud…and too bright. He flung an arm over his eyes. The pain began to lessen as he drifted off to sleep. A short time later he bolted awake. After taking the steps several at a time, he bypassed the final flight and vaulted the handrail. Landing gracefully on the floor, he saw Andrew clapping at him. He bowed to the boy before scooping him into his arms.

“Harry!” shouted Kate. “Give Andrew to me!” Harry laughed and ‘flew’ Andrew through the air. Andrew chortled with delight.

“He’s fine…look!” Harry laughed.

“You are not fine and I don’t want to tell his mother that he got hurt, so give him to me now!”

Harry pouted and put the boy down. Andrew clung to Harry’s leg and started jumping. Harry saw that this looked like big fun and joined in. “We need music!” he shouted.

Kate joined in the laughter and put on the WWN. Harry did a fine pirouette before leaping around the room in a caricature of ballet. Andrew danced in place, while Kate stood back and watched. She had a hard time reconciling the persona of Harry Potter and this man who was putting his all into entertaining his son. She’d come to the conclusion that Andrew was Harry’s long before Andrew started calling him, ‘Da’. The fact Hermione never corrected him strengthened that theory.

Hermione came in. Her jaw dropped at the sight. Harry came toward her in a Pas de Chat and lifted her above him and spun around. “Harry! Put me down this instant!” she shouted through her laughter. He complied. Hermione raised an eyebrow at Kate who confirmed that Harry was indeed feeling the effects of the potion.

Harry pulled her into his arms and kissed her thoroughly. When he finally released her, she cleared her throat as a way of stalling for time, and said, “Well aren’t you in a mood this evening!”

“These two have been dancing non-stop since about two this afternoon,” Kate explained. “Some young man is going to be dead on his feet as soon as he gets a little dinner in him…”

“Ah,” said Harry with a rakish smirk, “Monster goes to bed early leaving more playtime with Mommy…Go me…”

“He is not a monster…” Hermione complained, intentionally ignoring the rest of Harry’s statement. “Anyway, I’m going to start dinner…Any requests?”

“Yeah,” said Harry. “Let’s have pork chops…no goulash…no hamburgers…no pasta…no…”

Hermione interrupted him. “Why don’t I just find what’s in there and prepare that…”

“Excellent idea,” said Kate with a chuckle. “I have a feeling that he’ll eat whatever is placed in front of him…”

“I don’t like coffee…” Harry called to her retreating back before turned to grin at Kate and said, “I remembered that….”

“Well done,” Kate returned.

During dinner, Hermione had never heard such foolish giggling since sharing a dorm with Lavender and Parvati. The fact that it was coming from Harry and Andrew made it even odder. It was almost as if they were telling jokes to each other telepathically. Kate and Hermione remained silent giving each other significant looks every so often. Soon Andrew began to tire. He dozed off several times before Harry’s snickering awoke him. Hermione washed his face and hands and carried him up to bed.

She meant to have a serious discussion with Harry this evening. It didn’t appear that was going to happen. Returning to the drawing room, Kate approached her. “He seems to be coming out of it. I set him to washing the dishes. That should keep him out of trouble for a bit.”

“Thanks, Kate,” Hermione said with a hug. “You’ve been unbelievably helpful throughout all of this. I really appreciate it.”

“In any case, before you give me too much credit, I’ve had a soft spot for Harry since I heard his story as a child. I had a bit of trouble separating the man from the legend at first.”

“I wish you could have met him before he was hurt. He was such an amazing man…”

“He still is,” Kate corrected.

“I-I didn’t mean…”

“I know you didn’t, but if he had heard you, it could set him back…”

“I’ll try to be more careful…”

Harry quickly crossed the room. “I think I’ll head up, too,” he said tiredly. “It’s been a long day.”

“I’ll come up with you…” suggested Hermione.

“No, I’ll be fine” he stated firmly. “Don’t worry about me.”

Hermione looked at Kate who shrugged as if to say, ‘I tried to warn you…’

Hermione knocked on Harry’s door. He beckoned her in. “Harry, I’m sorry…”

“For what?” he asked quizzically.

“…for what I said. I didn’t mean to imply that…”

“See… Hermione…the thing is…about my …er…problem is that I don’t remember things. I remember being angry, hurt even, I just don’t know why. It seems a bit silly to be angry for no reason, so I let it go…”

“You were hurt by something I said. I told Kate that you were amazing before your accident. You took it as my saying I don’t think you are amazing now. That’s not the case. I…”

“What are we doing here, Hermione?” he asked.

“I’m trying to talk to you.”

“I don’t mean that and I think you know it. Why did you move in here? What are we doing? I mean, if we’ve talked about this before, I’m sorry I just can’t remember it…”

Hermione let out a deep breath. “I’m here because you needed me…”

“I have a live-in nurse…”

“Let me finish, please…” He nodded never taking his eyes from hers. “You needed me for someone to cling to when nothing else made sense. I needed you for the same reason. I missed Harry, but I enjoyed getting to know Trey. I wanted my son to get to know his father. And I wanted his father to remember how much I loved him…Andrew is your son.”

Harry sat down on the bed. “I think I knew this…Let me show you…” Harry reached over and grabbed his journal off the nightstand. “I was close to realizing it on my own. Every page has a mention of Andrew’s father…” Then it sank in. “I’m a father…I have a son.”

Hermione smiled and joined him on the bed. “Yes, you do.” Harry grinned at her.

“So it wasn’t only a fantasy…just a dream…”

Hermione laughed silkily. “Well, I think that would depend on the dream, wouldn’t it?”

Harry reddened as he grinned. “You’ll need to remind me about Andrew. My memory isn’t what it once was…I don’t want to forget.”

“If I had known you would have taken it so well, I would have told you sooner...”

“Why wouldn’t I have taken it well?” Harry asked.

“Well, you must admit, you’ve been a bit down on yourself. I thought it might have had a negative effect.”

“I can see how you might think that. I mean what kind of father can I be? I can only focus for a brief amount of time…”

“You seem to be doing okay right now…”

“It’s taking everything I’ve got, I assure you. I’ve only got a bit more before I lose it, so tell me again, alright?” Harry closed his eyes and let his mind rest. Hermione pushed him back until he was reclined and laid her head on his shoulder.

When Harry awoke the next morning, he looked across and saw the sign on Andrew’s room, ‘Your son, Andrew’s Room’. He grinned and made his way to the loo.

He entered the kitchen to find it packed full of people. “Harry, dear,” called a woman with red hair, “Come eat some breakfast. You’ll need your strength today…” She walked over and engulfed him in her arms.

Harry looked at Ron. “Today?” he questioned.

“You are moving to the new house you bought, remember?” answered Ron.

Harry’s wide eyes found Hermione’s. “We’re moving…as in leaving…from here?”

“Yes,” she answered.

Harry attempted to let the idea sink in. He strolled over the counter and poured a cup of coffee, sipped and grimaced. He’d forgotten to read his notes.

“Coffee really is an acquired taste,” said Luna attempting to cover his error.

An older, balding red-haired man put his arm around Harry and asked for a private word. “I misjudged you,” he said seriously. “I’d like to apologize…”

“You misjudged me?” Harry asked while trying to figure out who this man was. Obviously he was related to Ron, just like the hugging woman in the kitchen.

“Yes, when you first came back. We were a bit… harsh in our treatment of you and I’m sorry. We had no idea that your trouble stemmed from an injury…”

“Well that’s the thing about my particular problem,” Harry noted. “First, I haven’t the foggiest idea who you are, and secondly, I don’t remember any offensive behavior, so it’s all good, right?” He grinned widely at the man.

“I’m Arthur Weasley…Ron’s father. My wife, Molly, is cooking breakfast…”

Harry extended his hand, still smiling, “Pleased to make your acquaintance, Mr. Weasley. Please don’t be offended if I don’t remember…”

“Call me Arthur; please…” he responded pulling Harry into a hug. “You’re a good man, Harry.”

“I’m starting to believe that…” Harry smiled.

The two men returned to the kitchen. Mrs. Weasley poured Harry a cup of tea. “Thanks. Breakfast smells wonderful…” he said.

“Can’t start the day right without a hearty breakfast, I always say…” Mrs. Weasley answered as she set the tray of sausages on the table.

Hermione took several and put them on her plate before cutting them into tiny as well as slightly larger pieces. She tipped the smaller bits onto Andrew’s tray and slid the larger on Harry’s plate.

Kate hastily made conversation before Harry could get embarrassed. “Ron,” she said. “I never had the chance to show Harry the house yesterday. Want to tell him about it?”

“He just saw it last week and…oh…” Ron stopped and looked down at his lap. “It’s really nice, Harry! It’s got a pond in the back and the bedrooms are all….”

“Excuse me, please…” Harry interrupted as he made a hasty exit. Ron ducked as his mother, Hermione, Kate and Luna all reached over to slap him.

“I forgot, alright?”

“Don’t worry,” said Kate. “He’ll be back in a few minutes. He probably won’t remember…”

Just then, Harry strolled back through the door. He walked to the coffeepot and poured himself a cup. Hermione took it from him. “Thanks, I love it when you bring me coffee. Shall I return the favor?” She winked at him and poured him a cup of tea.

“Thanks. Breakfast smells wonderful…” he said.

Hermione cast a warming charm on his plate then returned to her seat beside Andrew.

“Da hungy?” asked Andrew offering Harry a bit of his toast.

“Da is very hungry,” Harry replied. He accepted the toast and gave Andrew a spoonful of his porridge. Ron gave Hermione a knowing grin. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley looked to be in shock.

“Let Daddy eat his own food, Andrew,” admonished Hermione. “You eat yours…”

“Da’s better,” Andrew complained.

“That’s alright, Hermione. I can share…” Harry said. He gave the boy a sip of his pumpkin juice.

After breakfast, everyone started helping to get ready for the move. Harry’s things were easiest since all he had was his trunk. Ron and his father shrank Andrew’s cot and toys and packed them into one box. Mrs. Weasley and Kate helped Hermione. Soon everything was ready to deliver to the house.

“Did Remus get the charms in place?” Hermione asked Mr. Weasley when the others had left for the new house.

“He’s there now. He wanted to make sure that everything was child-proofed and well, you know…”

“That’s very sweet of him. He feels so bad that he couldn’t help Harry, but we didn’t know. None of us did.”

“I wouldn’t worry too much. He’ll see how well Harry is doing now. That’s what’s important. The problem is I’m not going to able to put the Minister off for much longer. Have you decided what to do?”

“I’m not putting him on show,” Hermione answered adamantly. “He’ll only get confused. The last thing he wants is pity. You saw him this morning.”

“True,” Mr. Weasley agreed. “Notify the Minister and tell him that Harry would only agree to see him privately. That may appease him a bit…”

Kate had taken a Disillusioned Harry in her car, while the others Apparated. She spent the trip preparing for his new home. “Now, don’t be alarmed if you can’t find everything right away. We’ll put up signs like before. We just won’t need so many.”

“I’m sure I’ll be fine,” Harry responded in a tone that sounded like he wasn’t very sure at all.

“I know you will be. It might be a bit scary at first, but you’ll soon see that this house will be easier to find your way. There’s only one floor.” Harry nodded and continued staring at the passing scenery.

They arrived at what looked like an empty park. Kate met Harry on the sidewalk and handed him a slip of paper. “Memorize this and then concentrate on it,” she instructed him. “The house has been made Unplottable. Remus is the secret keeper.”

Harry nodded, even though he didn’t understand it. He read the paper over and over until it disintegrated in his hand. His eyes grew wide as the paper turned to ash. Kate asked him to think about what the paper said, but it was gone. She told him to stay put and she’d be right back. She disappeared into nothing. It was a little unsettling being in this strange place by himself, so he climbed back into the car.

Kate came out with an older man. “I’m sorry, Harry. I should have realized…” she said.

Harry got back out of the car. “Harry,” the man said, “I want you to grip my arm tightly. I’m going to Apparate you into the house. After that, it will recognize you and you can see it. Alright?”

Harry looked at him blankly. “You’re going to what?”

“Just hold onto my arm and don’t let go…It’s not an altogether pleasant feeling, but it does the job. Off we go now…”

Harry felt a squeezing sensation and before he knew it he was inside the sunny house.

“Oh, Harry dear! You made it. We’ve all been so worried!” Mrs. Weasley said giving him yet another squeeze.

Hermione came up to kiss his cheek. He slyly turned his face at the last second to meet the kiss.

“None of that now…” Ron complained. “Think of Andrew…”

“How do you think Andrew came to be, Ronald?” asked Luna.

“Don’t remind me…” Ron grumbled. “Who can forget that night…”

“Er…me…” Harry admitted bashfully, which was followed by a few uncomfortable chuckles.

“Let’s get this house whipped into shape, shall we?” decided Mrs. Weasley.

A few hours later the house was charmed clean and decorated. They’d moved some of the furniture they’d need from Grimmauld Place. Harry stood in the hallway that led to the bedrooms and grinned. Facing him was a door marked: ‘Harry’s Room’, next to it was Kate’s room. On the other side of Harry’s was Hermione’s room, with Andrew’s room adjoining. The fourth bedroom was made into a library for Hermione’s assortment of books, with the remaining bedroom set up as an office of sorts for Harry.

Harry walked through his room, looking it over carefully while his friends watched. He opened the door leading to the garden and grinned. “This is brilliant!” he proclaimed.

“I’m glad you like it,” Hermione said as she put her arms around him.

Ron made a quick errand to pick up pizzas and beverages, ale for the men and soft drinks for the ladies. Hermione allowed Harry to give Andrew a bit of her orange soda in a spill-proof cup. “More, pees,” he asked as he handed the cup back to Hermione. Soon the excitement was too much for the little guy and he dozed off in his chair. Taking Andrew’s cue, the guests said their goodbyes and left.

Harry stared off into space trying to get his bearings. Hermione led him to his room. “You did remarkably well today,” she told him. “I don’t think anyone noticed when you drifted away from the conversation…”

“You could tell, though…” Harry replied.

“I can always tell.” She followed him to the bed and lay down beside him. “I’m sorry you don’t remember the first time we made love…”

“There are loads of things I don’t remember, but that one has to be the one that comes to mind as regret.”

She pressed her body closer to his. “Maybe one day soon we can recreate the memory so you can hold onto it…”

“How soon?” he chuckled.

“Soon…” she breathed before capturing his lips with her own.

He pulled her on top of him. “How soon?” he asked again.

She gave a small gasp as she felt the reaction she was having on him. “Very soon…I hope…We’ll talk more after your Healer appointment…”

“When’s that?”

“Tomorrow. I won’t be able to come with you but Kate will be there and Ron is available should you feel you need him there. Will you be alright?”

“I’ll be fine, I promise…”

^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^^

Kate Disillusioned Harry again before driving him to the city. “Are you sure you don’t want me to call Ron?”

“I’ll be fine,” Harry replied.

Kate parked the car and led Harry through to the hospital. Once there, she removed the Disillusionment Charm. They had used a private entrance before, though this time came through the public foyer behind Purge and Dowse Ltd. Almost immediately Harry was recognized and surrounded by autograph seekers and well-wishers, some with strange protuberances who were obviously there for medical attention.

Harry clung tight to Kate’s hand. As the excited throng pressed in on him, Harry became separated from the nurse, who immediately went for help. As Harry became more disoriented, he froze, clutching his aching head.

“Back off, you lot!” came a shout from afar. “Let the man breathe…”

Ron battled his way through to Harry. “Need some assistance, mate?” Harry tried to smile but his focus was diminishing. Ron wrapped an arm around his friend. Brandishing his wand threateningly, he pushed his way back through the crowd.

Kate met them once they’d gotten clear. “I couldn’t hang on,” she said breathlessly. “The guards are coming…” She looked at Harry’s dazed expression. “I’ll get Hermione here…”

Harry awoke to the sound of his name being called. “Harry…Trey…Harry…He’s coming around.”

He opened his eyes to see Hermione standing over him with a worried expression. “Hi,” he said weakly. She smiled at him soothingly. “What happened?”

“We forgot that the entire wizarding world is clamoring for a glimpse of ‘The Chosen One’…” Remus said from his other side.

“Really?” he asked, “Who’s that?”

“That would be you, mate…” Ron answered. “It’s been that way since first year, either they want to mob you or maul you…just depends…”

“I would ask why I haven’t noticed it before,” Harry grinned, “but for all I know I could very well have…”

“We kept you away from the public,” Hermione responded. “You aren’t ready for that yet.”

Ron snickered as Remus asked, “Has he ever been? He’s downplayed his fame as long as I’ve known him.”

“When can I get out of here?” Harry asked.

“You need to see the Healer yet,” stated Hermione. “Kate went to let him know you are awake. Is your headache better?”

“A bit…” Harry lied.

The Healer entered and asked everyone to leave in order to examine Harry, who tensed at his words. “Alright, one can stay…”

“We’ll be right outside,” said Remus, who opened the door for Ron and followed him out.

“That must have been some scene in the hallway to make you lose consciousness like that…” the Healer observed.

“He has the same reaction to Dementors…” offered Hermione.

“De—What?” asked Harry.

Hermione gave him a look to say she’d explain later. “I’ve noticed that reaction since our third year. I’m sure he was terrified…”

“Security will escort him out, so don’t worry there. You can use a portkey, if need be…” changing the subject, the Healer asked, “Tell me about your therapy with Kate…”

“I remembered a few things, like my owl and I can usually remember my son…She has me look at pictures and tell her everything I can think of. It’s quite interesting, actually. I can’t do that one game. I get all messed up. I’m supposed to put the thing on the thing then add this other thing. I just can’t do it…”

“Are the bolts difficult, or is it trying to remember what goes where?” the Healer asked.

“All of it…” Harry replied. “It’s so difficult to focus and remember what goes where and then to get my fingers to work properly. I mean, we try it every day, I think. It seems like it anyway. I don’t think I’ve improved on it at all.”

“That’s true,” agreed Kate. “Most of his memory enhancing exercises go well, but add in fine motor skills and he’s done for. I taught him how to meditate when he loses concentration. He took it to the next level by himself. He recognizes when he’s losing track and can take corrective action.”

“That’s excellent!” said the Healer. “I’m impressed. Shall we take a look here and see how you are healing?”

The Healer pointed his wand at Harry’s left eye and mumbled an incantation. Harry tried to squint, but was prevented. The Healer looked closely into the eye before releasing the spell. He did the same with the other eye. Just then a noise sounded from the hall.

“I’ll see whomever I choose now out of my way…” The door burst open as Rufus Scrimgeour strolled through.

“I tried to stop him, Hermione…” said Remus. “He wouldn’t listen.”

“Minister,” began the Healer with a barely contained rage. “As if you couldn’t tell, I am examining a patient. You have no business here…”

Harry looked up at the intruder with red blurry eyes. “I’m here to see Mr. Potter, and since I was not granted audience prior, I took steps myself. I’ll only be a moment…”

“NO,” shouted Hermione. “I will not allow this now! Minister, please, if you have one shred of decency, leave before I have security called.” She looked at Kate knowingly before Kate slipped from the room.

“What’s wrong with him? Is it true that his brain has been addled?” asked the Minister ignoring Hermione’s request.

“I won’t discuss a patient with you, Minister. You know the rules about confidentiality…”

“Yes, yes, well, I can see there’s something wrong with him. He’s not said a word since I’ve arrived….”

Hermione willed Harry to speak, but just lay on the bed blinking. “Harry, please tell the Minister that you are alright…then maybe he’ll leave!”

“I’m fine, sir…” Harry croaked. “Thank you for your concern…”

Scrimgeour smiled at him, not that he could tell. “Very good…very good… So that means you’ll be in fine shape to be present on the day we officially recognize you…very good indeed.”

“I’m fine, sir…” Harry repeated with what looked like intense concentration. “Thank you for your concern…” Scrimgeour’s mouth dropped open.

“Now as he’s said, he’s fine. I’d like to get back to my examination…Minister, if you please…”

Kate came back in with two burly security wizards. “I have all I need to know…” the Minister said breezily. “Good day to you…” With a swish of his robes, the Minister was gone.

“I don’t like this…” Hermione told Kate. “There’s no telling what he will do…”

The Healer finished the examination quickly. “I didn’t go as thorough as I’d have liked, but I think Mr. Potter has had all he can take for one day, don’t you think?” Hermione nodded. “We can reschedule for next week. I’ll give you a portkey to my private office. That should eliminate some of the trouble….Kate?” The Healer left the room with the nurse explaining as he went what therapies he’d like her to try with Harry.

Harry lay almost catatonic, breathing rapidly. Hermione scooped him into her arms and rocked him back and forth. “Just escape, Harry. You don’t have to come back until you are ready…”

Kate returned. Upon seeing the comfort Harry was receiving, she came close and spoke softly to him. “Fly fast and free, Harry. Take your broom as high as you can go…”

After a few minutes his breathing returned to normal. He opened his eyes and looked at the two of them. “Thanks,” he murmured. “I guess I needed to check out for a bit…”

“Your eyes are still red from the spell,” Kate noticed handing him his glasses. “Is your sight returning to normal?”

“A bit…” Harry lied.

“Let’s get you home,” suggested Hermione. “I brought your invisibility cloak. We can get you out of here without anyone noticing.”

Ron and Remus were waiting outside. Remus took Harry’s arm and led him through the hospital. Ron, Kate and Hermione went separately, knowing that if they were waylaid, Remus would get Harry away without incident.

They were correct. Masses of people, hearing Harry was at the hospital, turned out to see him. Upon Ron and Hermione’s appearance, they pressed forward hoping to catch a glimpse of Harry. Remus used the back entrance where another swarm was waiting. When the gathered crowd saw that it was just him, they returned to speaking among themselves, waiting for the next person to leave.

Remus got Harry into the alley and summoned the Knight bus. He gave enough money for two people, to the confusion of the young man collecting. “Just in case I forget to pay another time…” Remus explained. The man accepted the sickles and showed him to his chair. I’d like it if I could have one extra, to prop my feet. It’s been a long day already…”

“You paid for two, I reckon,” the young man agreed.

Kate pulled up in front of the house worried about what state she’d find her charge in. Ron and Hermione had apparated back. She walked in the door to find Harry, Ron and Andrew playing an exciting game of ‘Simon Says’, with Hermione playing Simon.

“Simon says…..Jump up and down…” The participants followed her instructions, with the exception of Ron who stopped every few minutes to take a swig of his ale. Harry had a carefree look on his face as he rapidly hopped in place. Remus looked on smiling from the couch.

“You lot look like you are having loads of fun.” Kate said announcing her arrival.

“Yes, I figured our patient needed a little toddler time to take the edge off things…”

“Harry doesn’t have to worry about forgetting the instructions,” Remus added, “because he’s doing what everyone else is doing.”

“I wish I’d thought of it…” Kate praised with a smile. “You lot are going to put me out of a job…”

Author’s note: This is the last chapter. I’d like to thank Jax for her wonderful work as beta, Terri for her inspiration and IzzieQ, my own personal cheerleader. I couldn’t have done it without you. Thank you to all of you who have stuck with me on this. Thanks for reading and for the reviews. Your encouragement keeps this nervous writer posting.

Chapter 9

Hermione dragged herself doggedly into the kitchen. The sun had barely risen and it had been a long night. Between Harry’s migraine and the subsequent side effects, she decided that euphoric behavior while hilarious in the mid-afternoon was decidedly less so at four in the morning. Plus with Andrew getting the sniffles, she knew she was in for a long day. She waved her wand at the coffee and teapots to get them going. She carried her cup to the table just as the post owl delivered her morning news. Having placed a Knut in its pouch, she took a sip of her much awaited coffee. She sprayed the mouthful across the room as her eyes widened at the headlines:

“Harry Potter sighted at St. Mungo’s for treatment of madness

‘No wonder he hasn’t confirmed his appearance for the HP Day celebration...’ says Minister of Magic. Exclusive Story, see page 4”

As she hastily flipped pages while muttering expletives, Kate walked in to join her. “What’s got your wand in a knot this morning?” she asked. Hermione showed her the front page. “Merlin’s Beard!” Kate cried as she stared at the written words.

“We can’t let him see this…” Hermione said rapidly. “He’ll react badly...I know he will…” She got up and started pacing while reading the story to herself. Every once in awhile, her mumblings were punctuated with savage swearing. “That bastard! He’s got no right…and…and…and…that BASTARD!” She handed the paper to Kate.

Kate read the story as well. “It could be worse, I suppose. I mean. Ok, Harry was being examined and his eyes were red. He did sound a bit off, but all in all, the Minister could have noticed much more that could be damaging to Harry’s reputation.” Hermione snorted in derision. “I mean it, Hermione. Let’s look at this optimistically. Scrimgeour could have noticed that Harry didn’t recognize him. I mean, their arguments were almost legendary. He could have noticed that he can’t remember from one minute to the next what he’s supposed to be doing, or that he checks out of conversations regularly. That would be devastating. Everyone now thinks that Voldemort hit him with a lasting Confunding Curse that the Healers are curing…”

“Maybe you’re right…” Hermione agreed. “I just hate to think what this will do to him…”

“What makes you think it will do anything to him?” Kate responded. “Has he ever cared what the press has said about him?”

“No, but…”

“Has he ever been that sensitive?”

“No, but…”

“Has he ever given a damn about what other people think of him?”

“No, but he’s fragile right now…” Hermione retorted.

Kate chuckled. “His health might be a bit fragile; his memory, too, but he’s also very proud, arrogant almost. I think he’s going to care as much about this as he cares what kind of impression he made on the Minister. Don’t baby him, Hermione. Let him get angry. Allow him the same feelings as we all have…He deserves it, don’t you think?”

Hermione stared into her empty coffee cup. “I know you’re right, of course…It’s just so very difficult. I mean I prayed for him to come back to me. My prayers have been answered, but at a price. Yes, he’s getting much better, but is it worth it… for him… for me?”

“What are you saying, Hermione?” Harry asked as he entered the kitchen. “Are you going to leave me?”

Kate shifted uncomfortably in her chair. As much as she didn’t want to hear the conversation she knew was coming, as Harry’s nurse, she had to stay.

“Of course I’m not!” Hermione huffed. “Please don’t make asinine assumptions based on a conversation you walked into the middle of…”

“Ah,” said Harry reaching for the coffeepot. “I see…”

“And you don’t like coffee!” she shouted.

Harry slammed the pot down hard. “Alright, here’s the deal…” He walked over to the table and sat down facing her. “Maybe I didn’t hear the entire conversation, but what I did hear was that my…issues…are getting to be too much for you. I am getting better, but apparently much too slowly for the perfect Hermione Granger. I can’t keep at this for very long, so to make it short, go back to your mother’s. Think things over and let me know when or if you feel I’m ‘worth it’ to you…If I need to learn to live alone, then let me do so sooner rather than later…” Harry swept out of the room without a backward glance.

An astonished Hermione looked at Kate who was struggling to keep quiet. “Hermione,” she began. “What do you want, really? Is it for Harry to be the way he was? Because I can tell you right here and now that it isn’t going to happen…”

“You both misunderstood me. While I’d love for him to be all better, I’m realistic. That’s where the concerns come in. Take a look down the road a few years and you’ll see what I mean. Our plan was to get married and have two or three more babies. That won’t happen now. He’s got plenty of money, but that won’t be enough for him. Like you said, he’s prideful. He won’t be able to hold a job and that will kill him. I can’t watch that. He won’t be happy and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it….” Tears of frustration rolled down her cheeks.

“Have you talked about that with him?” Kate asked.

“No, I keep waiting for him to bring it up, but….” Her eyes lit up as if something had just dawned on her. “But he has memory problems and probably thinks we’ve discussed it…” She slapped a hand against her forehead. “Has he discussed it with you?”

“Yes, as a matter of fact, he has…” Kate responded. “I know you’ve seen his journal.” Hermione nodded. “He’s remembered quite a bit. He’s taking his memories and writing them into lists and outlines, then filling in the blanks as he remembers them. He’s writing a book, Hermione. He wants the public to know the truth about his godfather, his life, everything. Ask him about it. He’s really a good writer.”

Hermione beamed. “Thank you for telling me, Kate. In case I forgot to tell you, you’ve been a really good friend through all of this. I really appreciate it…”

“I’ve enjoyed it myself. And you are right, Harry was and is amazing…While we are on the subject and we don’t need to talk about it now, but I’ve been preparing Harry for when I leave. He won’t need me around the clock soon and I’m looking forward to getting back to my own house. That’s probably why he reacted the way he did.”

Just then Harry walked into the kitchen. Hermione jumped up and fetched him a cup of tea before he could go to the coffeepot. “Thanks, Hermione,” he said accepting the cup.

Harry sat down and grabbed the newspaper. Kate and Hermione tensed as he scanned the front page. He looked up to find them both staring at him expectantly. “This is good, right? Better than the truth?”

Kate let out a breath that she did realize she was holding. “We think so…”

“Alright, then…It’s done, isn’t it?” he replied. He rinsed his cup and placed it in the sink.

Once he’d left the room, Kate turned to Hermione. “See what he did there?” she asked. “He felt anger and was looking for a reaction from us. He realizes that some of his emotions get confused, so he looks to see if anyone else is angry. He’s still angry, although he’s probably forgotten why by now; but since we weren’t angry he left to deal with it on his own. That should make arguing with him interesting…One of us should go and talk to him. Shall I, or would you rather have a go at it?”

“I’ll go…” said Hermione. “I suppose I need the practice…”

She found Harry in his room. “Can I have a word?”

“Okay, yeah…” he answered.

“I’m sorry about the newspaper. “It’s alright if you’re upset about it…”

“Oh, that…” he shrugged, “…what difference would it make?”

“The difference is that it would be an honest emotion. I, myself, had a right tantrum when I read it and it wasn’t even about me.”

“All right,” he admitted, “I’m angry. I had forgotten why, but I knew I was. I appreciate you reminding me, so that now I can be angry and know why. Is that better?”

“You tell me,” she suggested. “Would you rather be angry for a reason or just be angry? It makes no difference to me either way…Or…” she smiled slyly, “You can give me a proper ‘Good morning’…”

He grinned as he approached her. Lowering his lips to hers, he heard a whimper from the bedroom across the way. He swore softly.

“We seriously need to think about a nanny…” she groaned.

Kate’s last duty as Harry’s full-time nurse was to accompany him to his appointment at St. Mungo’s. Andrew was staying alone with his nanny, Lizbeth, who was a young witch who had recently left Hogwarts. She and Harry arrived at a hidden door in the back of the hospital. Security wizards were waiting in case of trouble; luckily there was none. Kate took the Disillusionment charm off of Harry and led him to an examining room.

After a thorough and exhausting assessment, the Healer smiled. “Harry,” he began. “I’m really happy with your progress. I feel that the time is right to release your magic again.”

Harry looked at him with a confused stare. “We bound your magic to aid the healing process of your brain. I feel I can safely say that you are ready to rejoin the magical world…”

“That’s wonderful news, isn’t it, Harry?” Kate beamed. “We can start working on spells again…won’t that be wonderful?” Harry smiled blankly. He hoped Kate would explain it once they got home.

“How’s the book coming along?” the Healer asked politely as a distraction. As he spoke he silently cast the charm freeing Harry’s magic. Harry stared open-mouthed as his magical aura swirled around him.

Kate answered the Healer. “It’s just about finished. He needs to fill in some more blanks first, but the main part of the story is finished. He’s moved into some fiction, as well…”

“Good…good…” responded the Healer. “Kate, before you leave, make sure he still has good control. He’ll be a bit wild for a bit until he gets used to it.”

When Kate and Harry arrived back home, she let him rest for a bit before getting down to work. She explained again about magic and reminded him that she and Hermione use it all the time. Andrew was even starting to do a bit accidentally on occasion. He surprised himself by remembering the categories and several spells, but the first practical application was a disaster. She’d had him attempt to light a candle and he’d nearly torched his office.

Seeing the flames, Harry was reminded of the end of his sixth year and pointed his wand at the fire and called, “Aguamenti!” It was as if his wand had turned into a high pressure fire hose. Harry struggled to hang on to the wand.

“Finite!” shouted Kate. The room and its occupants were drenched. She gave her wand a complicated little wave and hot air poured out of it. She aimed it at herself, Harry and the rest of the room. Steam arose as fabric and paper dried. “Now, then…” Kate said in a voice full of false patience. “Let me handle the accidents; you concentrate on control. Let’s try it again…Remember: Think small. Maintain your focus on control.”

“I’m losing focus, Kate. I can’t do this just now…” Harry complained.

Kate looked at her watch and was stunned to notice that Harry had maintained his concentration for nearly a half hour. She smiled warmly at him. “Sounds like a good time for a break then, wouldn’t you say?”

“I wouldn’t say no to a bite of lunch either…” Harry smiled.

“Shall we see how Lizbeth and Andrew are getting along?”

Kate and Harry arrived in the kitchen to find Andrew raising a fuss as he obstinately refused to eat. “Da!!” Andrew shrieked as he spotted Harry.

“Andrew likes whatever Harry’s eating better than his own food,” Kate explained. “It’s easiest in the long run to just let Harry feed him…”

“Is that safe?” Lizbeth asked. “I mean….” The nanny blushed a bright red.

“It’s a valid question,” Harry answered. “The safety of my son lies in your hands and I appreciate your candor. It is perfectly safe for me to share my meal with Andrew. I am forgetful, not barmy. While I may attempt to feed him twice or something, I can be trusted with him. I can even watch him briefly if there’s something you need to do…”

Lizbeth smiled gratefully at Harry. “I meant no disrespect…”

“I know that,” he returned. “This all new to you and most of the time it’s new to me, too, but if we work together, he’ll be fine.”

Harry sat down with the plate of sandwiches he’d made. He took a bite before offering it to Andrew, who ate the rest eagerly. Harry helped himself to another. “Crisps?” He offered the bag to the young boy, who took as large of a handful as he could manage.

“You really are amazing with him,” said Lizbeth. “I’m sorry I doubted you…”

“Giving a boy junk food isn’t exactly “Father of the Year’ stuff…I do alright…” Harry said before grabbing a second sandwich from the plate.

When lunch was finished, Harry returned to the office while Kate remained behind to speak to Lizbeth. When she returned to the office, she saw that Harry had much greater control than before and didn’t seem to be struggling half as much. It was then that she noticed his wand laying on the floor. “Harry…” she called. Harry looked over at her. While he did so he lowered his hands causing the nine feathers he was levitating to float gently back onto the table. “You aren’t using your wand,” she said astonished.

“Er…yeah…I forgot…” he stuttered in return.

“Well, whatever works, I always say, but most wizards can hardly do anything without a wand to focus the magic.”

“Well, far be it from me to do anything the normal way…” he groused. His eyes lit up. “It was so much easier this time!” He picked up his wand and positioned it in his right hand. “What if I hold it…like so…then… ‘Wingardium Leviosa…’ The feathers all rose. Harry looked like a kneazle with a bucket of cream.

“Hey, with a slight repositioning of your hand, no one will notice you aren’t using your wand…very ingenious, Mr. Potter!” Kate praised. “Just wait until Remus can see what you can do now!”

“Who?” Harry asked.

“Remus Lupin…He’s a friend of yours. He’s going to helping you along with your magic.”

“Is he the kindly looking bloke…a bit peaky…sort of…hairy…?”

“Very good, again!” said Kate. “I think that photo album you made is helping more than you realize…” Harry returned her grin. “I think that’s enough for today, though. You look like a nice flight would do you good. Come sit over here…close your eyes…”

When Hermione got home from work, she found Harry sleeping in his office with his son curled up next to him. She went to look for Kate. She located her in her room packing. “I’m really going to miss you around here…” she said.

“Well, silly, it’s not like I’m turning him loose forever. I’ll be back every weekday for a couple of hours at least.”

“I know,” Hermione replied, “but it won’t be the same. You’ve been a true friend.”

“Just because our living arrangement is ending, there’s no reason that the friendship we’ve established has to.”

“I know that and I’m just being silly. Are you leaving after dinner then?”

“Yes, I am. So what are you going to do with that handsome man all to yourself…wink, wink, nudge, nudge…?” Kate smiled slyly.

Hermione reddened and gave a snort. “I only wish…I never knew him to such a prude…”

“It’ll all work out, I promise. It was just awkward for him with me in the next room. He looked at me as an authority figure. It happens all the time. Trust your instincts, Hermione. If you have any trouble, just Floo…”

“What if he has a really bad migraine again?” She paced around the room anxiously. To cover her nervousness, she started helping Kate to pack.

“You know all of the potions by heart. Keep a supply of the ones he’ll need.” Kate stopped packing and looked at her friend. “It’ll be fine, I promise. He’s come a very long way.”

“I know that, truly I do, but with you gone and me working…I just worry, that’s all.”

“You love him, it comes with the territory. And just think there’s no madman trying to kill him anymore. Keep the signs up, encourage him to get his books published, keep an eye on him and everything will turn out.” She gave Hermione a reassuring hug.

Dinner that evening was a subdued affair. Harry, who’d forgotten about Kate’s imminent departure, was very quiet. He had a feeling changes were coming and was uncomfortable with it. Hermione distracted him by rubbing his leg under the table, while Andrew gurgled in his chair nicking from Harry’s untouched plate.

“Harry,” Kate began, “I’m leaving right after dinner back to my flat. Is there anything you need to talk about before I go?” Harry shook his head. “Good, just remember I’m only a Floo away. If you need me, just call, alright?” Harry shook his head again. Kate shared a look with Hermione. Andrew, who was having less fun since his father wasn’t eating, raised his arms toward Harry. Harry scooped up his son and held him close.

“Can you help me with my things, Hermione?”

“Yes, yes of course…” Hermione replied as she followed Kate from the room.

“He’s going to be withdrawn for a bit until he gets used to Lizbeth being here and me gone. Don’t be alarmed if he regresses as well.”

“What can I do to help?”

“Give him a distraction. Let him know that changes aren’t necessarily bad.”

“You are suggesting that I seduce him…”

Kate feigned a shocked look before she smirked. “Did I say that? Besides can you think of a better distraction?”

After Kate had gone, Hermione went to Harry in the drawing room. He’d given Andrew his bath and put him to bed. Now he was absently staring into the fire. Hermione sat on the arm of his chair. “Want to talk about it?” she asked.

“Talk about what?”

“Kate’s leaving…”

“She left? When will she be back?”

Hermione realized that Harry had overdone things and needed to rest his mind. “Why don’t you take a few minutes to yourself and we can talk later, alright?”

“Don’t go…” he said sounding as if he were a small boy rather than the adult he really was.

“I’m not going anywhere…” she replied as she slid closer and kissed him. Lifting her head, she said, “Lie back now. Take a nice long mental flight. I’ll still be here when you return.”

Harry laid his head back against the soft cushions. He closed his eyes and soared through the sky. The confusing thoughts melted away. As his mind cleared and he felt himself return to the present, he opened his eyes to see the love of his life kneeling on the floor between his legs.

“I wanted to relax you further...May I?” she asked giving him a look that left no doubt as to her intention.

“I…but…Andy…Lizbeth?” he sputtered.

Hermione giggled softly at his stammering. She knew it was in response to her forwardness rather than caused by his injuries. “Lizbeth has the night off and will be back in the morning. And Andrew is in bed, thanks to you. Am I missing anything?” Harry shook his head. “Good, now that is settled, want to stay here or go to the bedroom?”

“Go…” he mumbled. She led him by the hand into his room before gently pushing him backward until he sat on his bed. She kneeled at his feet and unbuttoned his trousers. He stilled her hands and pulled her up to him.

“What’s wrong?” she asked feeling a little hurt, “Don’t you want to?”

“Are you barking?” he asked in astonishment as he grinned at her. “It might be a bit overused in my case, but I can’t remember ever wanting anything more…I just…I mean, I can’t…Well, I don’t want to take advantage of you, do I? I mean, actually I’m not sure what I mean, but I’m just…Are you sure about this?”

“Honestly, Harry,” she laughed. “I’ve come in here every night to make myself available to you. I’ve done everything but spell it out. Don’t you remember that?”

Harry blushed as he reached to check his journal. “Oh…” he said when he returned his gaze to her.

“Let me see…” she teased.

“No, I…well…alright.” He handed the book to her before walking over to the window. She scanned the pages, reading how he reminded himself not to risk losing her by making a move that might be unwanted. He’d written about her visits, kisses and how much he wanted to make love to her. Seeing his feelings in the messy handwriting he’d had since his injury meant more to her than she ever thought possible. She knew that it didn’t matter whether he ever remembered their time together. The Harry that he was now loved her. Tears glistened in her eyes as she followed him. Overcome with emotion, she launched herself at him and kissed him fervently.

She pulled her wand from her pocket and cast a silencing charm on the walls before sliding back to her previous position on her knees. “Shall I continue what I started?” she purred as she tugged mischievously on his open fly.

“Er…no,” he said. “Not just yet…I…damn…”

She decided to play even more unfairly. She walked to his trunk and took out his invisibility cloak. “Where did you go?” he asked as she covered herself with the cloak.

“Follow my voice…” she said from the opposite side of the room. As he came closer, he reached for her. She darted away.

“I can’t see you…” he complained. She gave him a hint by tossing her blouse and hitting him square in the face. He caught it, sat on the bed and looked around enthusiastically for her. She giggled as she awkwardly removed her lacy bra. She dropped it right in his lap and scampered away.

He laughed as he reached out for her clutching his prizes. He felt the other side of the bed lower and turned that direction. “You cheat…” he whispered.

“I’ve only just begun…” she replied in a silky voice as she wrapped the legs of the jeans she was wearing only moments prior, around his waist. She moved away from the bed a second before he reached for her.

He heard her husky snigger coming from the door to the loo and he followed it. His arms stretched before him as he felt around for her. He then felt silky-smooth lips kissing a trail up his inner thigh. He grabbed at the cloak and removed it just as her mouth had reached its goal. He flung the cloak away and rested his hands on her shoulders, closing his eyes against the sensations that coursed through him. “You are trying to kill me…” he whimpered.

She laughed softly as she stood to face him. “No, I just remember what you like and want to remind you...”

He smiled. “You have me at a disadvantage then, don’t you?”

“I’m sure you’ll figure out something…” she teased. He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed nibbling at her neck as he progressed. “And that’s a very good start…”

Ron arrived early the next morning to take Harry to the Quidditch match at Hogwarts. He looked from Harry to Hermione and back again as he helped himself to breakfast. Harry finished quickly and returned upstairs to get ready. “Are you alright?” Ron asked Hermione once they were alone.

“Couldn’t be better…” she said dreamily.

“Anything you’d want to share?” Ron prompted with a knowing grin.

“It was wonderful, Ron…Just like before, but then again altogether different. I can’t explain it…but for the first time, I truly feel that it’s all going to sort itself out…”

“And he’s okay with everything?”

“Yes, he’s adjusted to his limitations well. Just keep an eye on him today. His right side is still very affected. His wand work isn’t improving, but he more than makes up for it with wandless magic. If there’s any trouble, stay on his right side…”

“Yes, mum. I’ll watch out for him.” Ron rolled his eyes. “It’s just a school Quidditch match, Hermione. He’ll be fine.”

Hermione smiled. “I know…” Just then Harry returned with a dressed Andrew in his arms. Hermione turned her attention to her son. “Good morning, love,” she cooed as she served him his bacon and eggs.

Harry put on his traveling cloak and readied himself to leave with Ron. Hermione made sure the cloak was fastened properly before she allowed him to kiss her goodbye.

“Be a good boy for…L-l-l…your minder, alright?” He kissed the boy’s cheek and the two men left.

“I do hope they’ll be alright…” she sighed. She assisted her son before getting ready for work. Lizbeth arrived back in plenty of time to help.

Harry arrived home much later than Hermione anticipated. He and Ron were heard singing long before they entered the house. They staggered through the door arm in arm.

“How was the match?” Hermione asked.

“It was brilliant!” exclaimed Harry. “They flew so fast and the one chasing the…the…thing…He was amazing!” He slid down the wall and rested his head on his arms.

Ron giggled drunkenly. “He mostly watched the Seeker, if you can imagine it…You aren’t angry with me, are you, Hermione?”

Hermione smiled. “No, honestly Ron…you’ve only been planning since our fifth year for the two of you to watch a match and then get filthy pissed after…I’m just glad nothing happened.”

“Of course nothing happened,” Ron snorted. “I mean, okay, he zoned out a couple of times and did his ‘Why?’ routine, but all in all he did really well. He acted a little weird about his invisibility cloak though. Strange, that…”

The Minister of Magic smiled at the gathered crowd, but, of course, on him it looked more like a grimace. “Welcome,” he began, “Welcome to the Fourth Annual Celebration of victory against Dark Forces, formerly known as Harry Potter Day.” A loud cheer went up. “Our guest of honor, Mr. Harry Potter himself, and I wholeheartedly support the change in the name because it reflects the cooperation and sacrifices we all faced to bring about the end of the war. It’s been two years since he was returned to us and our first opportunity to show our appreciation. Our guest of honor, who is now a best-selling author, has declined to give a speech, but I’ve convinced him to give us a wave…Mr. Potter, if you please…”

Harry walked up to the stage, grinning widely as he waved to the assembled group. His war medals glittered from the front of his dress robes. As he descended the stairs he was quickly surrounded by autograph seekers brandishing copies of the book, ‘Choosing What’s Right over What is Easy-Learning from Past Mistakes by Harry Potter’. He gracefully declined to sign, still being a bit touchy about his messy left-handed scrawl. He rejoined his wife with a kiss on the cheek and placed a hand on her gently rounded stomach.

“Do you need to get away for a bit?” she asked him. “I can cover for you…”

“Thanks,” he smiled. “I’ll be right back…” Harry snuck into the men’s room and sank to his knees. When he opened his eyes a few minutes later, he saw Ron standing guard over him with his wand raised. “Hey, mate…” he said as he got to his feet.

“You should’ve asked me…” Ron grumbled. “I’d have come straight away…”

“Bloody likely, that!” Harry laughed. He assumed a falsetto voice, “Go with me to the loo, Ron, we can powder our noses…”

“Er…maybe not…” Ron grinned. “Fred and George would have fun with that…”

“Who stayed with Hermione? That lot out there is a bit rowdy. I don’t want her hurt, nor the baby…”

“Mum is with her. She’s fine. You know how Mum is fussing over pregnant women…drove Luna mad, I tell you…”

The two men left the bathroom laughing and joking. They found the rest of their group easily. “Are you alright, Harry dear,” asked Mrs. Weasley concerned. A sleeping Andrew was in her arms.

“Fine, thanks,” he responded with a loving look at his wife, and then his son. “Never better…”

Finite