Remember Me

“Sit still, Ron,” said Hermione, who was holding her wand in one hand and a small potion bottle in the other, standing over Ron with a very Mrs Weasley-ish expression on her face. “How can I cure these if you keep moving?”

Ron sighed, and surrendered to Hermione’s Healer attempts with a groan. “I can’t see why I can’t just go to Madam Pomfrey,” he said as Hermione rolled up his sleeve to reveal three deep cuts in his arm. Harsh, red rope marks were imprinted on his skin from where he had been tied to the chair.

“Ron, you know that’s not sensible,” said Hermione as she dropped potion onto his wounds. “Professor Grimstone will have taken over now…and Madam Pomfrey’s in enough danger as she is, helping you would only put her in more…”

“Okay, okay, I know.” Ron sank a few centimetres lower in the chair, his face set in a painful grimace.

They had been so sure that the arrival of Dumbledore would make everything better in the recent battle; sure that Dumbledore would drive out the Death Eaters and that all of them would be put into Azkaban.

It hadn’t worked out quite like that.

They had underestimated the numbers of the Death Eaters, and this included Malfoy, and the many Imperiused students. By the sheer size of them, the relatively puny numbers of the Order were useless. Dumbledore was now on the run. Most of the Order was in St Mungo’s. Professor Grimstone had control of Hogwarts.

Harry sat in the common room, a feverish desperation to do something, anything pulsing through his veins, but his body was heavy, and did not want to move. Guilt and sadness had weighed him down. Everything had turned out so wrong, and Grimstone was in charge of Hogwarts, which meant that he, Harry, was no longer safe here, for Voldemort could appear at any moment.

And he could not look at Ron without guilt flooding through him. It was his entire fault, that his best friend had been captured in this way. Harry had trusted Professor Grimstone, thought he was in the Order, and thought he was trustworthy…

And look what he had done to Ron.

“What happened to you?”

Ron and Hermione, who had been chatting quietly, looked up at the sound of Harry’s voice. Ron shook his head slowly.

“Mate, it’s nothing. Just forget about it.”

“I can’t!” said Harry. “Look, you’ve obviously been tortured or something, you have been for weeks, and it’s because of me! Why? What did he want to know?”

Hermione stared at Ron, her face a mixture of interest, concern and tenderness. Harry suddenly felt very left out.

Ron shifted awkwardly on his chair. “It was the prophecy again,” he muttered. “You-Know-Who really wants to know it. He thinks that once he knows what it says, he can kill you.” He glanced up at Harry. “I didn’t tell him.”

Harry looked down. He felt nothing apart from the hot, bubbling guilt. Dimly, he heard Hermione start to treat Ron’s cuts again.

Of course Voldemort would have tortured his best friend for information about the prophecy, Harry knew better than anyone that Voldemort was hungry for the information. Ron hadn’t given it to him. A wave of thankfulness washed over Harry.

Harry had never thought that Hogwarts would be like this. No Dumbledore. Death Eaters in charge of the school.

And…no Cassandra.

Again, the guilt flooded him. She had lost everything, who she was, all her memories, because of him. Harry knew how badly the memory charm had affected Lockhart. If Cassandra turned out to be anything like that…if she never got her memory back…

The common room, although full, was not cheerful anymore. It was as if a Dementor was hovering in the corner. Cassandra’s fate had affected them all badly, and the recent battle, the loss of Dumbledore and the Death Eater’s in charge was fresh in everyone’s minds.
Harry was vaguely aware of something small and soft rubbing his hand. He looked down and saw Cassandra’s kitten, Yolanda, which she had stolen from the Transfiguration class what seemed like years ago. Yolanda mewed loudly and crawled up into his lap, and Harry tickled her head gently.

Hermione and Ron were watching Yolanda too. A small tear broke free from Hermione’s eye.

“Where’s Cass now?” asked Ron as he hoisted himself high in his seat.

“At St Mungo’s. Special ward,” replied Hermione, as she wiped her eyes hurriedly. “She’ll never…never have all her memories again, they said. Apparently she didn’t even recognise Debbie when she went in to see her. And Cass’ll…” she trailed off.

“Like Lockhart?” asked Harry. “Will she have to stay in St Mungo’s?”

Tears flowed from Hermione’s eyes again as she nodded.

All three of them watched Yolanda digging her claws into Harry’s hand. He gasped as pulled it away from the kitten.

“Looks like Yolanda’s channelling Cass’s vicious personality,” grinned Dean as he and Seamus sat down next to Harry. Dean too looked sad. Harry remembered how close Dean had been with Cass.

Dean snorted. “D’you remember when she tried to make Yolanda mate with Crookshanks?”
Seamus laughed, and Ron let out a small smile.

“And when she put Crookshanks on trial because he refused the fish she offered him and she didn’t think he was a normal cat?”

Hermione looked a little annoyed at this memory.

“Oh, and d’you remember on the Quidditch pitch, when she interrupted that flying class because of that escaped Bludger?”

“And when she flooded the Charms Classroom and lessons had to be stopped for the whole day because she overdid that Aguamenti charm, remember?”

“And when she dressed up as Professor Trewlaney for the day.”

“And her imitations of Snape!”

The memories flooded on, and drove the sadness away for most people. Dean, Seamus, Hermione and Ron were smiling at things Cassandra had done, things which made them laugh. But for Harry it just made it all worse.

They were talking about Cassandra’s life because she had just had it taken away from her. Cassandra didn’t even recognise Debbie. And it was Harry’s fault, Harry’s fault because he knew wherever he was was dangerous for others, because of who he was, because Voldemort wanted to find him. But Harry had been selfish enough to stay at school, endangering so many people, endangering his friends.

He couldn’t do that anymore.

Harry stood up, and Ron and Hermione looked at him, but he ignored them. He ran to the dormitory and started pushing some of his possessions into a rucksack. He had to leave Hogwarts now. For the safety of Ron and Hermione, for everyone in the school. He had to find Voldemort, and fight him, alone. It had never seemed more real to Harry, the danger of Voldemort, then when he sat there on the floor, pushing clothes into a rucksack.

“Harry?”

He looked around. Ron and Hermione were there.

“What are you doing?”

He turned his back to them. “Nothing.”

“Harry, please don’t act stupid with us,” said Hermione. “You’re packing.”

Harry whirled round and faced them. “Don’t you understand?” he said angrily. “This is all my fault. Look what happened to Ron! Look what happened to Cass! It’s because of me! It's all because of me! It's too dangerous for you all while I'm here!”

“Mate, it’s not like that-“ began Ron, but Harry interrupted.

“I don’t want to do it this way anymore!” he roared. “All it does is make you care too much, and then it hurts when goes wrong! You’ve got to keep away from me!”

“Harry-“

“I’m doing this for you!” Harry yelled. Why didn’t they understand? “Keep away from me!”

He flung himself down on his bed and drew the curtains tightly around, breathing heavily and listening to the sounds of Hermione leaving.