Remember Me

Cassandra folded her arms tightly around herself, studiously ignoring the dreary hospital pyjamas she was wearing. It was night-time. Outside the window it was pitch black, with a half-moon sending tendrils of light across the sky.

Someone snored loudly in the next bed. Cassandra had to strongly remind herself that she mustn’t go and hit him.

Faint voices could be heard from outside.

“Okay, I know, I know.”

“Blimey, Hermione, we’ve been through this a hundred times!”

“Yes…I’ll do the window.”

Cassandra peeked round her curtains. The windows, which had been shimmering with glass, were now blank and empty. A cold wind whistled inside the room.

Cassandra drew the curtains back across her bed and lay down again. Everyone else in the room was asleep. They’d come and fix the window in the morning.

Noises were coming from the window, as if someone was being hit against a brick wall.

“Ron!”

“Sorry, mate.”

Cassandra lay in her bed, listening hard. Part of her wanted to get up and see what was going on, but it was cold out there, and her bed was warm and cosy.

There was a soft ‘flump’ and the strange noises stopped. Cassandra raised her eyebrows and closed her eyes.

A padding noise. A slight creaking of the floor. A rustling noise and suddenly the air was colder than it had been before.

Cassandra’s eyes snapped open. A strange boy was looking at her with an odd expression of happiness and wariness. He had messy black hair which fell over his eyes slightly, round glasses which hid green eyes and looked a little too thin.

“Hi.”

She raised her eyebrows. “Wrong person.”

Cassandra made to draw the curtains back but the boy held them open, a slight shadow of a grin playing around his mouth.

“No! No, I’m here to see you.”

Cassandra glared at him. “Okay. Wrong time. Visiting hours are from nine to five and this is eleven at night.”

The strange boy, however, did not leave. Instead, he sat down on her bed and smiled at her. He looked a bit embarrassed, as if he didn’t know what to say. They stayed in silence for a few moments. Cassandra kept up a long glare at the boy, while he kept glancing to the door, the windows and back to her.

“Well?” asked Cassandra when the silence had gone on for long enough.

“Well what?”

“Well, what the hell are you doing here?”

The boy’s cheeks darkened. “What d’you mean? I’m here to see you.”

Cassandra closed her eyes and pressed her palms against them. “Why?”

“We’re friends,” muttered the boy awkwardly.

“Friends? Oh sweet!” Cassandra said sarcastically. “So, friend, can you start by telling me your name?”

The boy grinned. “Harry.”

Cassandra’s temper began to grow. She had had enough of this, enough of strangers coming into her room, saying that they were her friends when in reality she had never seen them before in her life.

“Right! Well, now that’s sorted, maybe you can-“

“Do you really not remember me at all?”

Cassandra stopped mid-sentence and stared at Harry. Remember him?

“What d’you mean?”

“Cass,” Harry said, leaning forwards slightly. “C’mon. You’ve got to remember.”

Cassandra stared at him, completely confused. Remember? But…there wasn’t anything to remember. And yet he seemed so sure. Sure that he knew her, but she had no memories of him. She had never met a guy called Harry.

Harry’s shoulders slumped and he leant back, running his hand through his hair, exposing his forehead. And then Cassandra saw it.

“What’s that on your head?”

Harry glanced at her, frowning. His hair fell over his head again.

“What d’you mean?”

“Look, on your head, right there.”

“What?”

“Show me!”

She leant forward and brushed the hair off his face. Her eyes fell upon the lightning-scar on his skin. A fain fluttering, as if something was waking up, batted its wings in the back of her brain. Cassandra stretched out a finger and traced the shape of the scar gently.

And suddenly, without any warning at all, her brain ached horribly, feeling as if it was stretching against the walls of her skull.

Pictures came to her in her mind.

Rubble was lying around her, bricks pressing down on her limbs. It hurt so much. She couldn’t breathe, only dust was filling her lungs. She called for her mum, she called for her dad, but no one came, and the only sound was her chocking and screaming and crying, and hot salty tears flooded her face…

She was sitting in her bedroom, surrounded by toys, hiding in a cardboard box. She was playing with her imaginary friend. She had heard Debbie and John talking about him, and she knew he was the same age as her, so that boy had become her companion for all of her adventures…

Debbie and John had bought her a new toy broomstick and she was flying around the living room, yelling in delight, with John cheering her on and Debbie running all over the room, trying desperately to save the furniture…

Debbie had just given her a wand for the first time and she was waving it around happily, loving the rainbow-coloured sparks that flew out of the end. Debbie was laughing, and John and his friend Sturgis were grinning at her happiness…

Debbie had set her some work to do, and Cassandra was groaning, annoyed, as Debbie urged her on, saying that it was important for the OWL’s. Cassandra was saying, once again, about Hogwarts and how wonderful it would be to go there this year, as they were holding to Triwizard Tournament there and Debbie was, once again, refusing…

She was sitting in the Great Hall with Harry, Ron and Hermione. The three of them were laughing at an incident that happened in Charms the other day. There was a relaxed, friendly feeling in the air, the kind that happened when good friends were together…

She was scared, frightened, and didn’t know what to do. People were duelling and the Three Broomsticks was full of smoke, dust and jets of light. People everywhere were screaming curses. Her and Harry were crouched behind the bar, and she somehow felt stronger, knowing that he was scared too. She wasn’t expecting it, but suddenly Harry leant forwards and pressed his lips on hers and he was kissing her and she was kissing him back, and it was wonderful, soft and gentle, but fuelled by desperation and fear…

Cassandra slowly came back to the present. Her hand was still on Harry’s scar. Harry was still looking at Cassandra. Her eyes had gone wide and he saw, for the first time, flickering of something other than blankness in them.

She dropped her hand slowly, and then, suddenly and so quickly he wasn’t ready, flung her hand back and hit him on the cheek. His hand flew to his face.

“What was that for!?”

“For being such an idiot, Potter!” she yelled.

Hope rose in Harry. He hadn’t told her his surname…

“Cass? You remember me?”

“Of course I do!” she screamed. “And why didn’t you come back earlier, Potter?”

“I…sorry…”

“So you should be!” She was louder than he had ever heard her before now. Joy was bursting in front of him like a giant bubble.

“IDIOT!”

Cassandra reached for her wand and shot a jinx at him. Harry grunted, feeling as if he had been punched in the stomach and flew against the room, smashing against the wall and sinking to the floor. Cassandra leapt out of bed and crouched down next to him.

“You idiot, Harry!” She was smiling now, and suddenly her arms were round him tightly. But as Harry hugged her back, he could hear footsteps running from outside the ward, and he suddenly realised that the other occupants in the beds had woken up and were staring at him and Cassandra with shocked faces. Cassandra had shouted so loudly.

“Cass, let go, I’ve got to go!”

“Oh, what happened? After all that? Is Ron alright? Hermione? Are you okay? Have they caught Professor Grimstone? And Malfoy, what’s happened to him and all the Imperiused people?”

“Cass, let go!”

He tried to push her off, but then the door burst open.

“It’s him, it’s Potter!”

Harry sat frozen, for a second, then pushed Cassandra off him and ran the length of the room to the window, Stunning Spells rushing after him. He leapt out of the window and felt, with relief, Hermione lowering him gently to the ground by magic. As soon as his feet hit the ground he sprinted away, calling to Ron and Hermione to follow him.

Thudding footsteps behind them told him that people were running after them. Red streaks of light flew through the air, and he, Ron and Hermione sent other spells after them.

They ran and ran, their hearts beating fast and their breath coming in short gasps. The people chasing them were fast, but they had the advantage of youth on their side and sprinted away from St Mungo’s as fast as they possibly could.

“I think…I think they’re gone,” panted Hermione a long time later, bending over and clutching a stitch in her chest.

“How did they see you?” asked Ron. “We planned everything out.”

Harry grinned, sitting down with his back to a tree trunk.

“She remembers.”