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Chapter Text

Sunlight shoved its way through the windows and unto the bed, getting into his eyes. He tried to reach up a hand to block it out but his arm wouldn't lift. He tried again. His arm was responding but it couldn't lift except for the smallest bit off of the bed underneath him. He risked opening his eyes to look at what was restraining him but shut them immediately as the sunlight burst into his sight. He groaned at the pain that exploded in his head.

"Harry?" a raspy voice asked, squeezing his hand. "You moved. Are you awake?"

He groaned again at the voice. "Loud," he complained.

"You are awake!" The squeeze came at his hand again and the voice sounded happy. "Do you want me to get Madam Pomfrey?"

Who? "Who?"

"Madam Pomfrey." The voice paused and gripped his hand tightly. "Harry, are you all right?"

He blinked his eyes open and then shut them again. "The light's too bright," he said, "and could you at least try to talk in normal levels?" His head was pounding. "Is Madam Pomfrey a sister?" He frowned. That wasn't the word he was thinking of. Not that he could think at all with the way his head refused to stop threatening to explode. "You called me Harry." This man had called him Harry. Like it was his name. He didn't know his name. What was... He tried to yank his hands up again but they stayed securely in place against the bed linen. "Why can't I move?"

"Calm down, Harry," the man said softly. He sounded worried. "I'll get Madam Pomfrey, she'll check you out and then we can go home. Will you be all right alone for a minute while I get her?"

"Why can't I move? I want to be able to move," he said. He didn't know why he wanted to be able to move so desperately but he couldn't be tied down, he couldn't. "Let me up!"

"Calm down," the man repeated. "I'm undoing the restraints, you were having spasms while unconscious, that's why they're there. To protect you." The man uttered a word that he recognized as Latin and the restraints were gone. "It's all right, Harry. You're safe, Voldemort is dead." The man took his hand again and held it tightly.

He wasn't safe. He wasn't. He was confused and he was... god, what was wrong with him? "Who?" He wasn't even sure which who he was asking about at this point.

"Voldemort," the man repeated. "Do you... remember anything, Harry?"

"Is... no, who's Harry?" That seemed to be the most important point. He pulled his hands to his chest, all but yanking his hand away from the man's, and rubbed his wrists carefully.

"You are." The man sighed. "You don't remember anything, do you?"

He blinked and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, considering that question. "I... no... I, uh, remember how to speak and I know you were using Latin for... something. I just... I have no idea who you are, or who I am, and did I hit my head? I hit my head right? I have amnesia?" That was all right. Amnesia usually went away. He'd remember whom he was in awhile. Everything would be fine.

"You have amnesia," the man sighed, still sounding worried. "You've been... ill. Let me get Madam Pomfrey. She'll be able to tell us more, all right?"

"I... all right," he agreed. "Uh, who are you? Just... you know, so I don't have to say 'hey, you' or something..." It was really disconcerting, he decided, that he didn't recognize someone that knew him. Awkward maybe. Right, it felt awkward.

"I'm Sirius." He paused and said another Latin word. "I've dimmed the lights. Do you think you could open your eyes again?"

He nodded and groaned, regretting it, before opening his eyes. "My head still hurts...," he commented, "but the light *is* better."

The man - Sirius - looked rumpled and tired. There were circles under his eyes and his clothing - some sort of black dress - was creased and wrinkled with mud stains on them. He nodded slowly. "Madam Pomfrey should be able to fix that up in no time." He smiled weakly. "I'll be right back, all right?"

"All right..."

Sirius reached out and gently smoothed his hair from his forehead. "I'll be back." He turned and jogged away, heading toward the door. When he opened the door a burst of noise flooded into the room. Sirius stepped outside and shut the door firmly behind him.

He -- his name was Harry, apparently -- laid there, slowly testing what did and didn't hurt to move, out of some compulsion to do so, -- had he been hurt like this before? -- and recognised that except for his head, he felt fine.

After a few minutes, Sirius walked back in the room, with a woman trailing behind him. "He says his head hurts. And he can't remember anything," Sirius informed her hurriedly.

Immediately the woman -- what had the man, Sirius, called her? -- moved to his bedside and took one of his wrists, muttering something in Latin -- he thought it was Latin. He blinked as a number popped in and out of the air.

"Uh, I think... um...," he started. All right, he wasn't going to admit to seeing things, he just wasn't.

"Yes?" the woman prompted.

"My head hurts," he said.

"Give me a moment," she replied. She drew a stick -- a wand, he thought suddenly -- out of her pocket and held it over him, saying a series of words that he was certain were Latin. The second word meant 'breathing', he thought.

"You're checking to make certain I'm not hurt anywhere else? I'm not. I checked," he said.

"You always do, Mister P -- did you notice anything wrong?" Did his surname start with P?

"No, except my head."

"Yes, we'll deal with that first," she agreed walking over to a cabinet and pulling out a bottle of green-blue liquid. The man looked concerned, hovering at the end of the bed.

"Poppy?" he asked quietly. "Will that fix the amnesia as well?"

The woman transferred some of the liquid to a small cup and swirled it. She appeared satisfied as she brought it over to him and turned to the man. "Mister Black, we will discuss that later. As for this, it's merely a pain-killer." She handed him -- his name was Harry, he reminded himself -- the cup and he took it. "Drink that, all of it." He sniffed at the liquid. "Oh, for goodness' sake, it's not poisoned. Drink it!"

He winced as the raise in her voice made a stab of pain go through his skull and drank the liquid. Almost immediately his head felt better. "Uh, wow, thanks. My head's... better. Uh, Sirius? He said your name is Madam Pomfrey?"

"That's right. I am Poppy Pomfrey. I'm your attending... medical caregiver. Tell me, what *do* you remember?"

He blinked. "Uh, nothing?"

Madam Pomfrey nodded and held up her hand, three fingers extended. "How many fingers am I holding up?"

"Three."

She took two down and said, "Please follow my finger with your eyes."

He did as she commanded, slightly confused.

"Just checking the tests we performed," she explained. "You don't have a concussion."

"Um, this is a really stupid question, but... what happened?"

Sirius sat down in the chair next to the bed and took one of Harry's hands in his own. "That's, um, a long story." He looked at Pomfrey. "Can I tell him?"

Pomfrey shook her head. "Best not quite yet. He might remember on his own." She looked down at him. "For now, I think it's best you go eat something and then go back to sleep. I'll have the... staff bring something up for you to eat."

"All right?" He chewed at his lip. He wasn't really hungry but for some reason he thought that arguing with her would be a pointless exercise. "Uh, where am I?"

"At your school," she replied vaguely. "It really is best if you're not overloaded with details at this point. I know you're confused, but it's bound to confuse you further if you're told and you still can't remember."

"Uh, but my name is Harry, right? That's what... Sirius said." He trusted Sirius. Sirius seemed nice and he was worried about him.

Madam Pomfrey looked disapprovingly over at Sirius and replied, "Yes, your name is Harry. Harry Potter."

Sirius smiled at her sheepishly. "Sorry, I didn't know. Er, do you think...?" he trailed off and nodded toward the door.

She nodded briskly. "Yes. I will be back with food in a few minutes. Do not get out of bed. Call if you need anything, either Sirius or I will respond. If I find you wandering around you will be restrained again. Do you understand?"

Harry -- his name was Harry, he repeated to himself -- nodded. "Yes."

Sirius squeezed Harry's hand. "I'll be right back with that food, all right?"

"All right."

Pomfrey surveyed him one more time, before turning and exiting the room he was in. Sirius stood, following her out of the room.

* * *

After a bit, Sirius came back into the room carrying a large tray full of soup and sandwiches. He set the tray next to Harry's bed. "It's *good* to see you awake. Soup first?"

"How long was I out?" Harry asked. He looked at the food and his stomach rolled. "I'm not hungry."

"About a week," Sirius answered immediately, before wincing. "And you have to eat, Poppy's strict orders, and it'd take a stronger man than me to disobey her." He picked up one of the sandwiches and took a bite. "It's good."

Harry looked at the food and smiled weakly. "I think I'll throw up if I try to eat. Just watching you eat is making my stomach turn."

"Oh. Try just a little?" he coaxed. "If you do throw up, that's easily cleaned up."

He made a face and covered his mouth with his hand. "Take it away, please?" he said, his voice muffled by his hand.

Sirius set the half-eaten sandwich back on the tray and pulled out a wand. He pointed it at the tray and it disappeared. "All right." He reached out to smooth Harry's hair. "It's gone."

Harry blinked. "How did you do that?"

"It's, um...," Sirius shifted, not meeting his eyes and looking uncomfortable. "It's part of what Madam Pomfrey doesn't want me to talk about to you."

"Magic, it's magic," he said firmly. He knew that. Magic was real. He knew that.

Sirius gave him a brilliant smile. "Exactly, magic. Do you remember anything about magic?"

He shook his head, considering this. "No. I just... it's magic." He didn't know how he knew it was magic.

Sirius's smile dimmed slightly. "Well, it's a start. Do you, er, want to go back to sleep? Or rest some?"

He shook his head again. "Not sleepy." Sirius's hand brushed his fringe back from forehead and Harry blinked up at him, noticing for the first time that the room was really fuzzy even though his head felt better. "Uh, do I wear glasses?"

"You do." Sirius patted his clothing a bit and pulled out a pair of glasses. Sirius handed them to him. "Here they are."

Harry put the glasses on and smiled. "Wow, not fuzzy."

Sirius laughed. "Usually a good sign."

Harry smiled back. "Yeah." He bit at his lip and examined the man. "Can I have a mirror?" He had no idea what he himself looked like.

Sirius cocked his head to the side, considering. "Can't imagine why Poppy'd object to that." Sirius pointed his wand at his hand and a small hand-mirror appeared. "Here you go."

Harry took it gratefully and pushed himself up into a sitting position. He looked at his reflection. Black hair, green eyes, glasses, a scar on his forehead. None of it looked familiar. He might as well be looking at a stranger. He glanced over at Sirius, disappointed, and his brow furrowed. "Um, you're not my dad, are you? I mean..." Sirius hadn't said he was his dad and he would have if he was, wouldn't he?

Sirius laughed softly. "No, I'm not your father."

"Oh, all right." Harry didn't know why he felt relieved. "I'm at my school?"

"Yes, it's a boarding school." Sirius pointed at the mirror. "Do you need that anymore?" Harry shrugged. "No. Are you my professor then?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, I don't work here."

"Oh, then, you're...?" That didn't leave a lot of options. Harry considered. In fact, that didn't leave many options at all. "Oh. Never mind. Where are my parents?"

Sirius winced and made the mirror disappear with a wave of his wand. He put the wand away and took Harry's hand. "They died when you were little."

"Oh." Harry chewed on his lip. Suddenly he didn't feel the urge to ask anymore questions except... "What happened to me?"

"What do you mean?"

"People don't just randomly lose their memories and this scar," he gestured to the barely healed scar on his forehead, "looks recent."

Sirius winced again. "The scar isn't recent, you've had it since you were a baby." Sirius sighed and his thumb gently rubbed Harry's palm. "You were in... a fight."

"It looks recent," Harry said, frowning, "and it feels sore. A fight with who?"

Sirius shot a worried glance at the door. "A man named Voldemort. It was a magical fight. He, er, gave you that scar. I reckon it might heal up now with him gone."

"I won?" Harry asked, disbelieving. Certainly didn't feel like he'd won. "You won." Sirius looked as if he had more to say, but stopped.

"I reckon you can't tell me why we were fighting in the first place?" Harry laid back down.

Sirius simply shook his head. "I get the feeling I've probably told you too much already by Poppy's standards. Anything safer you want to talk about?"

No, he wanted to remember whom he was fucking talking to and what he was talking about in the first place. He sighed and squeezed at Sirius's hand. "Like what?"

"Your favourite colour?" Sirius offered weakly, smiling.

Harry smiled just as weakly. "Sure."

"Is blue ringing any bells?"

Harry bit his lip. "Uh, no?" He paused. "I remember what blue looks like, though, don't worry."

Sirius grinned. "That's probably a good sign."

"But... so, blue's my favourite colour?"

"No, it's green actually."

Harry frowned and pushed his nails into Sirius's hand. "Don't confuse me." Sirius looked down. "Sorry. It was worth a try."

Harry released his grip on Sirius's hand and smiled softly. "I'll tell you as soon as I remember anything. So, uh, can you tell me where I live? When I'm not at school, I mean."

"You live with me, we've got a house. In Scotland." Sirius looked back up at Harry and returned the smile.

Harry blinked, holding the smile, and shifted his gaze down at Sirius's hand in his. What exactly was Sirus to him? "Oh. Uh, so, what year is it? And how old am I?"

"It's 1998. May. Your birthday's July 31st, so you'll turn 18 in a few months."

"Oh! So, are you my guardian then?" That'd explain it. After all, someone had to have raised him after his parents died.

"Not legally, no. The Headmaster of the school, Dumbledore, is your legal guardian. And you lived with your Aunt and Uncle until this last year when you moved in with me." Sirius paused. "That was probably more information than I should have given you." He frowned and shot another glance at the door.

"I should probably stop asking questions, huh?" Harry asked. He didn't want to though. He wanted to know, now, what was going on and what had happened and how he was going to get better. "Uh, just one more. You talked to the... sister? Or is she a doctor? No, there's a word for this... mediwitch! Right. You talked to the mediwitch. Whatever happened to me, can she reverse it?"

"Poppy says time is the only cure since we don't know exactly what happened with Voldemort's spell to cause the memory loss in the first place." Sirius sighed. "There's spells we could try, but they're risky and without the cause we can't be sure they'll do more damage."

"Oh. Then... what's going to happen?" Harry asked quietly.

"She'll keep you here and we'll sort things out as they come. You'll have plenty of visitors to keep you company," Sirius assured him. "Well, if Poppy lets them in, of course."

"Visitors I won't recognize," Harry pointed out, turning onto his side so he was facing Sirius and burying his face in the pillow as well as he could.

Sirius reached out with his free hand and stroked Harry's hair. "True. But it might help. And they've been worried about you. Especially Ron. I'm sorry," he finished quietly.

"I.. will you tell them first? That I won't... know them? Please?" He turned his face into Sirius's touch. "I -- I think I can trust you, right? You're -- you're important to me somehow." If he could only remember how.

"It's fairly useless for me to say that you can trust me, Harry," Sirius said. "Trust is in the actions, not words." He sounded as if he was speaking from personal experience - and a bad one at that. "But I'll do my best to be trustworthy," Sirius promised. "I'll tell the ones who need to know." Sirius squeezed Harry's hand. "So you remember feelings, even if you don't remember people? The associations are still there?"

Harry nodded slowly, his glasses becoming dislodged in the action, and he reached up a hand to straighten them. "I... when I saw Madam Pomfrey I knew... you listen to her. She's... for some reason I knew arguing was pointless. When I look at you I feel... safe? Good. The associations for good, at least." He frowned. "I don't remember anything about you, though."

Sirius nodded slowly. "That'll help a lot, I think. Even if you don't remember us, you'll be able to pick the ones who care from the ones who don't." He shot another glance at the door and sighed.

Harry chewed his lip. "You can go, if you want. Talk to everyone or... get some rest. You look like you've barely slept in, well, a week. Eat something? I'll be fine on my own. Promise not to wander off."

Sirius shook his head. "If you don't mind, I'd rather stay. But..." he stroked Harry's hair a final time before pulling back. "Whatever you're comfortable with."

Harry frowned. He wanted Sirius to continue stroking his hair. "No," he said quickly. "It's fine. I just... you keep looking at the door."

"Oh!" Sirius laughed and shifted in the chair, scooting closer. "No, I don't want to leave. I'm just wondering how long Poppy will be able to restrain people from bursting in."

Harry smiled. "Good." After a moment the rest of the statement caught up with him. "Restraining people?"

"There's a lot of people who care about you, Harry. Most of them are camped outside that door."

"Oh. I... I reckon I don't mind if they come in?"

"Poppy didn't even want to let me stay once you'd woken up. She told them no visitors until tomorrow." Sirius laughed unexpectedly. "It will be interesting to see if anyone tries to sneak in tonight anyway."

"Oh, so, it's just us for tonight? You are staying, right?"

"If you want me to." Sirius looked down and to the side, before his eyes drifted back up to meet Harry's. "I could understand if you didn't feel comfortable."

Harry bit his lip. He wasn't sure what he felt or if he was missing anything or what Sirius was to him but he knew that he wanted Sirius to stay. "No, please, stay?'

Sirius grinned at him. "Of course. I think at this point I've become a permanent fixture in the room."

Harry nodded. After a few moments of silence, he yawned. "Uh, I'm sort of sleepy... just a bit. Maybe I should take a nap, like Madam Pomfrey said? You look like you could use one as well..."

Sirius nodded and leaned over to kiss Harry's forehead. "Get some rest. I'll be here when you wake up."

"Shouldn't you sleep as well?" Harry bit at his lip. "The chair isn't very comfortable."

"I will, I just wanted to wait until you'd gone back to sleep."

"I... it's all right. You can lay down now." He continued to bite at his lip and then, after a moment, scooted over so there'd be enough space in the bed for two. He wasn't certain what Sirius was to him, but... Sirius obviously had no problem with touching and it was comforting.

Sirius studied Harry for a moment before speaking, "I don't want to crowd you. Not when you don't remember me."

"I remember I feel safe with you," Harry said. "I don't mind, really. I'd just... feel better if I knew you were sleeping as well."

Sirius nodded slowly and climbed into the bed. He took care not to touch Harry other than their joined hands. "Go to sleep," Sirius smiled.

Harry nodded and yawned again sleepily. "All right." Reaching up with his free hand, he removed his glasses and stretched over Sirius to set them on the table next to the bed. Settling back in to his spot he kissed Sirius's cheek lightly, the same way Sirius had kissed his forehead, and closed his eyes. "Go to sleep."

"You first," Sirius said quietly. He settled on his stomach and squeezed Harry's hand.

Harry squeezed back and scooted in a bit so he was leaning against Sirius's side, their hands trapped between his chest and the side of Sirius's. He pulled the blanket up around him from where it'd been kicked to the bottom of the bed and sighed sleepily. "Sleepy."

"Rest. I'll be here."

"All right." Harry yawned again and drifted off into sleep.

Ϟ

He groaned and yawned, attempting to shift his position -- his arm felt cramped -- as he reached up with one hand to rub the sleep out of his eyes. When that was done he opened his eyes and looked around, trying to move again. After a moment he realised that the reason he couldn't shift was because there was an arm around his waist and his memory of the night before -- what little memory he had left -- came rushing back in images. Amnesia, headache, a man named Sirius, who he trusted even though he couldn't remember why, that seemed very close to him. Harry, his own name was Harry; he needed to remember that.

As he tried to push against the arm wrapped around his back, the grip tightened pulling him closer to the warm body. He sighed and unclenched the death grip Sirius had on his left hand. After his hand was free he decided that it wouldn't hurt to lie there a bit longer. Sirius looked like he needed the sleep.

His movements seemed to wake the other man up slightly. "Harry?" Sirius blinked slightly and released his grip on Harry to rub his eyes. "All right?" Sirius sat up and looked down at him.

He -- Harry -- nodded. "I'm all right. Go back to sleep? I didn't mean to wake you."

Sirius shook his head. "No, I'm fine. Are you feeling better? Think you could do with some food?"

Harry groaned and hid his face in the pillow. He felt Sirius reach out and touch the back of his head. "I'll take that as a no. It's Madam Pomfrey you'll have to convince." Sirius shifted and his weight left the bed.

Harry sighed. "Where are you going?"

"Moving to the chair, that's all." There was the sound of a body flopping down next to the bed.

"Oh. You don't have to. You still look tired."

"It's your bed, you need it more than I do." Sirius sighed quietly. "I reckon I should get Poppy now that you're awake.

Harry frowned. "Then use the bed over there?" He pointed. "Because I really don't think I do."

Sirius smiled at him. "I'm fine, really. Do you need more sleep?"

"Not sleepy."

"All right. I'll get Madam Pomfrey; she wanted to know when you woke up. I'll be right back, all right?"

Harry chewed on his lip. "Sure."

Sirius stood and reached out to touch the back of Harry's hand. "Do you remember anything?"

After a moment Harry sighed, watching the hopeful expression on Sirius's face. "No. The only thing I remember is last night." He paused. "Can you hand me my glasses?"

"Sure," Sirius grabbed the glasses off the nightstand and handed them to Harry. He looked down at himself and sighed, before casting a spell that wiped the dirt off his clothes and freed them of wrinkles. "I'll be right back," he repeated, before heading to the door and leaving the room quickly.

Harry put his glasses on slowly and turned onto his back, looking over at the door Sirius had exited. Sirius obviously cared about him, a lot, and he felt... something for Sirius, a confusing something. He sighed and decided that, since his memory was going to come back any time now, it wasn't important at the moment.

Sirius came back into the room, followed by the woman from the night before and an old, white-haired man. Sirius was carrying a tray of food. The old man smiled at Harry. "It's good to see you awake, Harry. We've all been quite worried about you." He noticed Sirius send a dark look at the old man before he sat the tray on the nightstand.

"Hope you don't mind me eating, Harry?" Sirius asked, sitting down in the chair and starting on a sandwich. "Help yourself, if you want one."

Harry shook his head. "I... they're not making stomach turn like last night." He watched Sirius's expression lighten and sighed. "I reckon I could try one..." He pushed himself up into sitting position and gingerly took the half a sandwich Sirius offered him. Madam Pomfrey looked on approvingly and the old man surveyed the scene. Harry frowned and took a moment, biting into the sandwich to cover up his silence, to analyze his own reaction. He liked this man, he was certain of it, but he didn't trust him, not at all. Especially not like he trusted Sirius. Slowly, he chewed his bite of sandwich and swallowed. "Uh, sorry, but you are?"

"I am Albus Dumbledore, Harry, the Headmaster of this - your - school," the old man answered. "Do you feel up to a few visitors?"

Sirius froze and glared at the old man. "You can't be serious, Albus, he can't answer any questions like this!"

"Visitors? I mean, so long as they knew I couldn't remember," Harry said, confused.

Madam Pomfrey came over the other side of the bed and started to run the wand above him again. She hummed. "Physically, aside from the memory loss, he's in perfectly fine condition." She glared disapprovingly at Dumbledore.

"Yes, that's actually the point," the man said. "Once it's demonstrated that Harry *can't* remember, they'll leave."

"Oh, yeah, they'll leave," Sirius said sourly. "And print whatever wild story they make up first." Sirius looked over at Harry. "You're famous, Harry. Albus wants you to talk to some reporters."

"I... why? I can't tell them anything?" Harry asked, watching the two men. "Can't you just tell them that, uh, Headmaster?"

"You don't have to," Sirius said firmly.

The headmaster nodded slowly. "You will have to face them, Harry. When you're ready."

"When my memory comes back," Harry replied firmly. "So, you know, I can actually remember what I did."

The headmaster looked at Sirius. "Did he have his wand with him when you reached Harry?" Sirius shook his head and went back to his sandwich.

"Wand. Right. I'd have a wand. I can do magic," he frowned and paused. "Right?"

"You can," the headmaster confirmed. "This is Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. You are a student in your last year here."

"And that's enough!" Madam Pomfrey said suddenly. "Harry may have one visitor at a time and your time is up Headmaster. Please send in Ron when you leave." She pointed to the door and then looked at Harry. "If you feel up to it, dear."

Harry took another bite of his sandwich, which was slowly being finished, and nodded. "All right," he said after he had swallowed.

"Ron's your best friend," Sirius said quietly as the headmaster nodded at Harry, smiled, and left. He looked at Madam Pomfrey. "Are you sure this is a good idea?"

"No, honestly, I'm not. If Harry had suffered a memory charm backfiring I would be able to fix that. However, the charm he -- you, that is," she turned to Harry and started talking to him instead of Sirius. "The charm you were hit with, from what we can tell, wasn't meant to erase memories. At least, not originally. It was distorted by something you did, I believe. However, as we can't find either your wand or Voldemort's, it's likely they were both destroyed in the blast that knocked you out, we can't figure out what he did or the distortion thereof, unless you remember. Of course, if you remember we won't actually need to know."

Harry bit his lip. "Well, I will remember, won't I? I mean, this is just temporary probably, right? Most charms are temporary."

"We can hope but without knowing what was done I honestly can't promise you will remember on your own. That's the only reason why I'm allowing your friends around. I'm hoping it will jog your memory, so to speak," she explained calmly. "If you don't remember, however, I'm certain your friends will be very supportive. I know Sirius here will and Remus Lupin, your favourite professor."

The door opened and a redhead who looked about his age poked his head in. The redhead grinned widely at him and stepped in. "Harry!"

"Harry," Sirius introduced him, "this is Ron Weasley."

The redhead walked up to the bed, smile dropping. "You don't remember?"

Harry frowned, then forced a smile on his face, as he looked over the redhead. Tall, lean, lots of freckles. The association of affection that he reckoned meant 'friend' to his memory-less brain. "Uh, no. There was an accident. At least, that's what they tell me. You're my best friend?"

The boy nodded, looking aggravated. "I can't believe you really don't remember! Especially with Hermione -"

"He doesn't remember," Sirius cut the boy off quietly.

"Who's Hermione?"

"She was our friend, Harry," Ron said furiously. "And you can't remember her!"

Harry shrunk back and looked at Sirius for help. "I wish I could. I didn't mean to forget. It was an accident. Something happened... I can't even remember my own name. I didn't want this," he tried to explain. He frowned and then blinked, looking back over at the redhead -- Ron. "Was?"

Sirius looked warily over at Madam Pomfrey. "She was killed two months ago, Harry. Ron, calm down."

"He doesn't remember! Anything!"

Sirius looked at Harry and saw something in his expression. He stood and guided Ron to the door, talking quietly to him. Harry caught the words "come back later." Ron left, still looking furious. Sirius turned back to Harry. "Sorry about that. It's been a bad couple of months. No more visitors today?"

Harry shook slightly. "I -- I want to remember."

Madam Pomfrey huffed. "Well, after that -- display. It can't get worse. The rest of the Weasley family is here. To help with putting things back together and they were waiting for you to wake up. Molly Weasley, that'd be Ron's mother, will still want to see you. The woman refuses to believe me when I say you're physically fine." She huffed again. "It's up to you Mister Potter."

Harry managed to still his shaking limbs and nodded slowly. "Sirius?"

"I know you want to remember, Harry," Sirius took Harry's hand and sat on the edge of the bed. "Molly's a bit like a surrogate aunt for you, if you did want to see someone else. I'm sure she's taking Ron to task for reacting that way right now."

"I... all right," he said, nodding again slowly. "Just for a bit."

Madam Pomfrey nodded sharply. "I have some things to attend to. I will send her in on my way out. No longer than fifteen minutes, Mister Black. Understood?"

Sirius looked over at Madam Pomfrey, seeming vaguely insulted. "Of course, Poppy. You know best." Sirius squeezed his hand and turned to wink at him.

"I still remember your antics with Mister Lupin, Mister Black," she warned him and, after running a set of spells on Harry once more, left.

A few minutes later a plump, friendly looking woman in a yellow and green robe -- they were called robes, Harry thought -- hurried into the room. "And don't you move a muscle, Ronald Weasley!" she said right before the door snapped shut behind her.

He noticed Sirius biting his lips to hold back a grin. "Molly." he nodded to the woman.

She walked over to him and engulfed Harry in a hug. "I'm glad you're all right, dear." She pulled back and began patting him down, checking for injuries.

"Uh, thanks?"

"Whatever are you thanking me for?" she asked, pulling the blankets up around his chin.

Harry blinked at her and pulled the blankets back down. Sirius seemed to be losing the battle not to grin. "Uh, for the concern? Um. I have amnesia. That's why, er, Ron is upset. I think."

She smiled down at him and patted his shoulder, sitting on the edge of the bed opposite Sirius. "I'm Molly Weasley, Ron's mother." He looked over at Sirius. "And you stop laughing, Sirius Black, I remember Bill's stories about you and your friends."

Sirius held up his free hand in a peace-making gesture. "You'll hear not a peep out of me, Molly. Promise." He made an 'X' over his heart. She shook her head at him and turned back to Harry.

"Are you feeling all right, dear? Other than the obvious, of course." She pushed the fringe of Harry's hair out of his face.

Harry nodded slowly. "I wish I could remember, but I'm not in pain or anything..."

"It'll come back to you, I'm sure," she said confidently. Sirius moved to take another sandwich and Molly spotted the plate. She reached out and smacked Sirius's hand lightly. "That's for him, stop being a glutton."

Sirius sent Harry a wry look. "Of course." His voice rose slightly in imitation. "You're too thin, Harry, you have to eat more! How are you going to settle down with a nice girl if you don't eat!"

Molly raised her eyebrows at Sirius. "What was that about 'not a peep'?" she asked before laughing.

"Uh, so, I, um, like girls? Er, do I have a girlfriend..." Harry trailed off, embarrassed. "Just, so, you know, if I do I won't be a complete idiot about it."

"You actually don't date," Sirius informed him.

"And I don't nag like that either," Molly laughed.

Harry blinked. "I don't date?" He frowned. Things would be so much easier if others weren't so vague. "Uh, what do I usually call you? Mrs. Weasley?"

Sirius shook his head. "No, you were too busy to date, Harry. And there were other issues, but time was the problem."

"You generally call me Mrs. Weasley," she answered. "Though I'd answer to Aunt Molly." She smiled kindly at him.

"Oh," Harry said, biting his lip. What sort of other issues? "But I do like girls?" There. If he liked girls then that would answer the question. He had the sudden desire to laugh. God, he had to ask about his own sexual orientation.

Sirius eyed Molly a bit before answered. "You're attracted to both men and women."

Molly leaned over Harry and patted Sirius on the shoulder. "Don't worry about it. I gave up on the idea long before Ginny did." She looked at Harry. "Ginny's my youngest, a year younger than you. She had a bit of a crush on you."

Harry continued to chew his lip and frowned. Now he was more confused then when he'd started. "Oh." They lapsed into silence.

"Now," Molly said, brushing Harry's fringe back again, "is there anything you'd like me to bring? Clothes? Books?"

"Uh, clothes, maybe?" He shifted. "The hospital gown isn't very comfortable."

Molly laughed. "They never are, dear. I'll have Ron get some of your things from your trunk in the dorm. There's no telling how long Poppy will keep you here."

Harry turned to Sirius. "You said we could go home after? When she let me go?"

Sirius gave him a small smile. "That was before you had amnesia. Or before we knew, at least. Poppy wants to keep you under observation for another day or so. If nothing comes back within 48 hours, we get to go home."

"Uh, when it is? I mean, I can't go to class like this, I reckon. Right? Will I have to, um, do the year over? Or is the year over already? You said it was May?"

"The year ends in just a few weeks, Harry, I wouldn't worry about doing it over." Sirius paused. "Well, unless you wanted to. And it's May 17th."

"The 18th, actually," Molly corrected him. "It's a Monday."

Harry blinked. "All right..."

"You're pretty much done already," Sirius explained. "You've taken your N.E.W.T.s, so it's pretty much just filler until the year ends."

"And victory parties," Molly put in, "though I suspect you'll be wanting to skip those."

Harry nodded. "I just want to go home," he said quietly.

Sirius nodded and squeezed his hand. "Right. Will do. Even if I have to smuggle you out under Poppy's nose."

Molly laughed. "I'm sure she's ready for your tricks."

Harry squeezed Sirius's hand back and looked over at Molly. "Thanks. For the clothing. Uh, you don't have to though, bother Ron. He seems pretty... shaken up."

Molly smiled painfully. "It's been a hard year for him, dear. He'll come around. He doesn't mean to take it out on you, really. It's just to him; it's like losing his best friend all over again. Especially without Hermione there to catch him." She shook her head. "Don't mind about the clothing. He'll be happy to help. Really." She patted Harry on the shoulder and stood. "I believe I've stayed longer than Poppy wanted me to. Let me know if you need anything, dear." Molly smiled at both Harry and Sirius and walked toward the door.

"Bye," Harry said softly.

Sirius sighed and glanced at the door. "I know I probably shouldn't do this, Poppy won't be pleased, but is there anything you want to know? You deserve answers and I hate seeing you so confused."

Harry jumped at the chance, quickly asking, "What happened to me? Who's Voldemort? Why were we fighting? What happened to me?"

"That's a bit of a long story," Sirius sighed. "I was actually hoping you'd ask something else first." He moved off the bed and pulled the chair close, sitting down in it. "Voldemort was born several years ago, somewhere in the 1930s as Tom Riddle. He grew up in an orphanage until he was eleven and was told that he was a wizard." Sirius leaned back in the chair. "That's when magical education starts - when you're eleven. He came to Hogwarts and started hating Muggles. Maybe he hated them even before then. So Voldemort grew up and decided to launch a revolution - separate the magical and Muggle worlds completely, because Muggles were dangerous. This escalated - it happened about twenty years ago - until you were born. There was a prophecy that you'd defeat Voldemort finally. So he targeted you and your parents. Killed your parents when you were one. Tried to kill you and failed. He didn't die, but lost his body. Took him thirteen years to get a new one. And he still came after you, over and over. Until this last attack. Now he's gone for good."

Harry blinked again and slunk down on the bed, pulling his knees up his chest. "Oh," he said quietly. "Uh, did I -- well, everyone's acting like -- that is -- he's dead, right? Who killed him?"

"You did, Harry."

Harry chewed at his lip and slunk down farther. "Oh. You'd think I'd remember that at least," he commented.

"I actually hope you don't remember that, Harry," Sirius said. "Killing is - even when necessary - something I don't want you to have to experience."

"I already did," Harry said, his voice rising. "Even though I don't -- can't -- remember it, I did it. I did it."

Sirius looked away. "I know," he said softly. "And you have no idea how much I regret that."

"I should be able to remember something like that!" Harry said, bordering on shouting. "I should! I should be able to remember I killed someone and my friend's dead and -- who you are. All of it! And I can't. Why can't I remember?" He rocked slightly back and forth, trembling from head to toe.

Sirius quickly moved to the bed and hoisted Harry up, pulling Harry into his lap and holding him. "I don't know why you can't remember. But we'll sort it out, one way or another. It's going to be all right."

"Promise?" Harry all but whispered, burying his face in Sirius's chest.

Sirius hugged him tightly. "Promise. We'll work it out."

Harry took a deep breath and forced himself to stop shaking. He reached up, righted his glasses, and blushed. "Sorry."

"No need to apologize," Sirius didn't let go. "It has to be overwhelming. *I'm* sorry, I shouldn't have dumped all that on you."

"I asked."

"And I should have known better. All right now?"

Harry nodded slowly. "Yes."

Sirius stroked Harry's hair and pulled back to looked down at him. "Anything else I should tell you? Or that you want to know?"

"I... don't know," he replied quietly.

Sirius nodded. "All right. You've probably had your quota of distressing revelations for the day anyway." He smiled.

"Well, you could tell me something not distressing?"

"Well," Sirius considered. "Where to start? You're famous. And rich. A great wizard. You've got a lot of people who care about you and will care about you even if you don't remember who you are. You're alive."

Harry smiled and leaned into Sirius's chest. "Good to know it's not all bad memories."

"No, not hardly. Just been a hard year on all of us. There's plenty of good in there."

Harry's smile widened. "Uh, my family? You said my aunt and uncle raised me? Are they here?"

Sirius stiffened. "No, they aren't." He paused, looking worried. "You didn't get along with them very well. They weren't exactly nice people."

"Oh," Harry replied quietly. "You know, I'm just going to stop asking questions now if that's all right with you."

Sirius nodded and set his hand on Harry's head. "All right. I understand." He ruffled Harry's hair. "Do you want to rest some more?"

"Not tired," Harry replied. "Just... I don't think I'm up to seeing anyone... not new I reckon."

"Don't think Poppy would let anyone in," Sirius observed.

"Good."

"What do you want to do, Harry?"

"I want to go home," Harry said firmly.

"Now?" Sirius asked.

Harry nodded. "I know... I'm not allowed, but... I just..." he trailed off.

Sirius shook his head and smiled. "No, if you want to go now, we'll go. Can you give me about ten minutes to get some things we'll need to get past Poppy's guard?"

Harry nodded. "Really? I mean, shouldn't we listen to Madam Pomfrey? I want... but... all right. I'll be here when you get back." He smiled.

"We probably should listen to her, but I don't see how it makes any different where you recover if there's nothing physically wrong." Sirius ruffled Harry's hair again and shifted Harry off his lap, standing. "I'll be back as quickly as I can."

Harry nodded, still smiling, and sat back against the pillows. "I'll be here."

Sirius smiled back and left the room at a jog.

Harry watched the door anxiously.

After a while, the door opened and shut quietly, but no one was there. "Ready to go?" Sirius's voice asked from nowhere.

Harry blinked. "Where are you? And I need clothes, don't I?"

There was rustling and Sirius appeared, holding a cloak and a bag. He grinned. "I've got clothes right here, and you have things at home. Come on, stand up."

Harry shifted and dropped his legs over the side of the bed before setting them carefully on the floor and standing up. Immediately he grabbed at the edge of the bed, his legs wobbling beneath him. Sirius frowned and rushed towards him. "I thought she said I was all right?"

"You have been unconscious for a week, I reckon it makes sense you'd be a bit unsteady." Sirius wrapped an arm around Harry's waist, holding him up. "Hmm, we may have to scrap this plan and come up with a new one."

Harry frowned. "No. I don't want to stay here. I'll be fine. Just getting on my feet was a bit of a shock," he said insistently. "Give me a few minutes to get use to it."

"All right, but if you start having problems, tell me."

Harry nodded and took a couple of steps, Sirius moving with him. His legs shook a bit but he didn't feel like he was going to collapse and he pushed Sirius's arm away after a few moments, taking a couple of steps by himself, making certain to stay close to the bed. After a few minutes he felt as he could go ten feet without collapsing and he nodded. "All right. Ready. How far do we have to walk?"

"Here's the plan. You wear the cloak - it'll keep you invisible. We should be able to just walk right out of here. You need to at least get out of the Infirmary on your own power before I can try and do any sort of magic to help you out." Sirius turned to the bed and started rearranging the covers so it looked like someone was still sleeping there. "Once we get outside of the castle, we'll both have to squeeze under the cloak. Then it's a simple matter of Apparating home." He sighed. "I almost wish I'd opened the Floo connection from Hogwarts, it would be much quicker."

Harry nodded and picked up the cloak from where Sirius had set it down, pulling it over himself. "Am I invisible?"

"All but your feet," Sirius grinned and walked over, adjusting the cloak so that it covered Harry fully. "Try and walk quietly," he said to the space Harry had occupied. "And if you can without being detected, hold onto my robes, so I know you're still there." He smiled. "Ready for your great getaway?"

Harry snickered and walked over, grabbing the sleeve of Sirius's robe. "Yes. I'm not getting dressed first, the gown and trousers will do."

Sirius laughed. "Oh! Sorry, didn't even think." He rummaged in the bag and pulled out a robe for Harry to wear, holding it out. "How's this?"

Harry pushed the cloak off and grabbed the robe. After a minute he flushed, "Uh, are there, um, any pants in there?"

Sirius held out the bag. "I pretty much just grabbed things at random. You've got clothes at home, so I didn't think much of it."

Harry rummaged through the bag until he came across a pair of boxers and set them on the bed. Tugging the shirt off he pulled the robe over his head and then discarded the trousers and put on the boxers. In less than a minute he was dressed and ready. He glanced anxiously at the door. "Let's go." He picked the cloak back up and shoved his hospital wear under the blanket. He pulled the cloak over his head. "All right?"

"Can't see you at all," Sirius grinned and moved to pick up the bag, shouldering it. Sirius took a deep breath and opened the door, Harry following. Outside there was a large group of redheaded people, including Molly and Ron Weasley, sitting in a circle of chairs talking quietly. Near them was a tired-looking man with graying hair. He stood and walked over to Sirius. Sirius smiled at him and took his hand, quickly letting go. There was a flash of paper that the man concealed almost instantly. "Didn't grab enough clothes on the first trip. Tell Poppy I'll be back, will you, Remus?"

The man nodded. "Of course." Sirius smiled at him and started walking out of the Infirmary proper.

Harry followed carefully, touching Sirius's arm every couple of seconds, until they were out of Hogwarts castle and then the grounds. As soon as they were he leaned against Sirius and caught his breath. "Wow. That seems like a really, really long walk," he said quietly.

Sirius turned and felt until he removed the hood of the cloak. "Going to be all right?" he asked.

Harry nodded softly. "Yes. That was the hard part, right?"

Sirius nodded. "We've got a bit farther to go before we get past the Apparation boundaries, but yes, that's the hard part." He took the cloak and folded it, putting it away in the bag. Sirius pointed his wand at Harry. "Mobilio corpus. Just rest, I'll do the rest of the work."

Harry shook his head at the weird feeling. "No, I'll walk. That feels... wrong."

Sirius stopped and cancelled the spell. "Are you sure?"

Harry nodded. "Yes." He smiled reassuringly at Sirius. "Let's go."

Sirius continued to watch him dubiously. "All right, but we're taking it slowly." He started walking, keeping close to Harry's side.

Harry walked along with him, waiting for Sirius to say when.

"All right. We can Apparate now." Sirius paused. "This is going to feel a little weird. You'll probably be a bit nauseous."

"All right," Harry said carefully.

Sirius nodded. "All right, here we go." He placed his hand on Harry's shoulder, raised his wand and said the spell.

Harry's stomach jolted as they appeared on a beach and he groaned.

Sirius steadied him. "I did warn you," he said a bit sheepishly. "Do you need to sit down?"

Harry shook his head and looked up. His eyes went slightly wide at the sight of a large, brown and green two-story house set up a few hundred meters on the beach. "This is where we live?" he asked. "It's nice."

Sirius beamed at him. "It is." He took Harry's hand and tugged gently. "Come on, I'll show you around."

Harry smiled back and followed, keeping hold of Sirius's hand. "All right."

The reached the house quickly and Sirius tapped the door with his wand, unlocking it. "It's fairly large. The living room, kitchen, library and dining room are down here," he said pointing toward each room in turn, "the game room, storage and bedrooms are all upstairs. There's a bathroom on both floors." He grinned. "I doubt you'll get lost."

Harry smiled. "All right. Can I go somewhere to rest? And you need some sleep as well." He frowned at Sirius, looking him over once more. There were still bags underneath his eyes and the sleep he had gotten the night before didn't show at all. "All right?"

Sirius nodded. "The bedroom's this way." He started toward the stairs.

Harry followed Sirius up the stairs happily, yawning widely.

"Funny how tired sleeping for a week makes you," Sirius joked. He led the way down the hall and stopped at the end, opening the door. He stepped in the bedroom and sat the bag to the right of the door. "Want anything to eat first?"

Harry considered that for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I just want to sleep." He looked around the room, hoping he would remember something. He sighed when nothing came to him. It was just a room. A bed, a nightstand, a desk, some books. It could have been anyone's room. He yawned again.

"Get some rest and call me if you need anything." Sirius grinned a bit sheepishly. "I think I'm going to grab a shower and some food."

"All right," Harry agreed. "I'll see you later." He stepped into the room fully and started to pull his robe off. "Thanks." The robe came off and he walked over to the bed, pulling back the covers, and climbed in. "Don't forget to sleep," he said.

"Course not. Feel free to explore a bit, when you wake up. Sleep well." Sirius turned toward the door.

Harry turned on his side and pulled the covers over himself. A few minutes later, he was asleep.