Remember Me

It was deeply, horribly dark.

They had been taken down to the dungeons and left there. They had no wands, and the door was locked. There was no way of escaping.

A while ago, some men had come down to take Harry. They had no way of knowing what had happened to him.

If Voldemort had come to Hogwarts, there was very little chance that Harry would still be alive.

The walls closed in on them, acting like Dementors in the way they sucked any happy thought from the room.

Cassandra pressed her back against the wall and hugged her legs. Stupid, stupid of them, to visit Professor Garino. How stupid to trust someone they didn’t know.

Dean was at Hogwarts, she thought. If only he could come down here and unlock this damn door.

The walls seemed to squeeze tightly, the darkness compressing. A long forgotten memory rose up in her mind. She was three years old. Her house had suddenly fallen. She was lying trapped under bricks and rubble. It was so dark. Dust filled her throat and choked her lungs. She called for her mum, she called for her dad but they did not come.

Cassandra tightened her arms around her legs, her breathing speeding up. It was so dark, she couldn’t see. The room was so small. They’d run out of oxygen. They’d leave us here in this dungeon and never let us out.

I’m going to die.

“Guys?” she said, hating how her voice shook. Her breathing was tearing at her throat, coming out harsh and erratic.

“We’re right here, Cass,” said Hermione soothingly.

Cassandra focused on calming her breathing, yet the walls still caved in on her. It felt as if bricks were weighing down on her again, trapping her so she could not move.

“Wonder what’s happening,” said Ron. He sounded scared too. “It must have been an hour.”

“I’m sure Harry’s fine,” said Hermione, though her voice trembled slightly. “We would know if…”

“If anything happened to him,” said Cassandra.

“How do we know something hasn’t already happened?” yelled Ron. “How do we know Voldemort isn’t already here?”

Hermione made hushing sounds. “Ron, calm down, I’m sure everything’s alright.”

“Bloody hell, Hermione, Harry could be dead for all we know, don’t you care about him!”

Hermione gasped. “Ron, of course I care about Harry! You think I’m not worried? How can you even say that?”

Ron groaned in frustration. “Sorry, sorry.”

There was a thumping sound as Ron sat down again and sighed.

Cassandra, meanwhile, couldn’t concentrate on Harry. Claustrophobia was beginning to set in, terror running long fingers up her neck. It was the rubble pressing down on her that she could feel. She could have been three again, scared and crying. She could hardly breathe! The room was stuffy and small. Surely they’d run out of oxygen. She couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t breathe…

Hermione and Ron were discussing something eagerly, but she couldn’t hear it properly, couldn’t concentrate. The panic had driven everything else out of her mind, leaving it empty and blank.

The minutes ticked by. Cassandra pushed herself deeper into the corner. The stone grated on her back. She had grown much thinner from weeks of little to eat.

They stayed there for what seemed like hours. No one spoke much. There seemed nothing to say, so they sat there in silence and worried.

Cassandra tried to ignore the fact that she was hungry, thirsty, terrified for Harry and really, really needed the toilet.

Suddenly, there was the sound of footsteps from behind the door. All three of them automatically tensed.

“Seamus, go back with Dennis.”

Ron and Hermione looked around excitedly, though they couldn’t see in the gloom. Ron crossed over to the door.

“Yeah, okay. Tell Neville that Grimstone’s been doing that again.”

There was the sound of two pairs of footsteps tiptoeing away. Someone walked past the door and coughed, stifling the sound quickly.

“Oi!” yelled Ron, pounding on the door.

Outside, the very air seemed to freeze, then came a hesitant, “Ron?”

“Yeah, it’s me, mate.”

Dean frowned. “Ron? Is Cass with you? Where are Hermione and Harry? God, you have no idea what happened to Hogwarts after you went, Professor Grimstone-“

“Dean, can you let us out first and we’ll talk about this later,” groaned Ron.

“Sorry.”

There was a whispered, “Alohomora!” and the door sprang open. Pale, greenish light flooded the little dungeon.

“Thanks,” muttered Ron, getting out with some difficulty and bumping his head on the low doorframe.

Hermione burst out, her hair frizzy and wild. “Dean, what were you saying about Grimstone? And have you seen Harry anywhere?”

Dean frowned at the sight of them. They both looked worse than they realised, thin and covered in dirt and dust. “Are you sure you’re alright?”

“Fine, fine,” said Hermione distractedly.

Dean nodded and peered into the dungeon. He blinked with surprise. “Cass, you okay?”

Cassandra swallowed down the tightening feeling in her chest and nodded, slwoly coming out of the dungeon. "Hey, Dean."

Dean shook his head slowly. "I thought...I thought you'd lost your memory?"

"Oh, you know, got lucky," grinned Cassandra sarcastically as she straightened up shakily.

Dean looked Stunned.

"Well, be happy, Dean!" Cassandra snapped, grinning at her friend. "Or are you saying this is a really big disappointment?"

He grinned. "Come here," he said, holding out his arms and she bounded into them, hugging him tightly.

Dean smiled. “So what are you doing here?” he asked Ron and Hermione over Cassandra’s head.

Ron rolled his eyes. “You think we wanted to come back here? And then lock ourselves in a dungeon for fun?”

Dean grinned. “I kind of guessed that you didn’t. Nah, I thought that was Grimstone. Was it?”

Ron and Hermione exchanged a glance. If Professor Grimstone had taken to locking students up in dungeons…

“We came here with Harry,” explained Ron. “This old git told the Death Eaters where we were and then took us here. We’ve been locked in here for ages.”

“So where’s Harry?” asked Dean, looking confused.

As he spoke, there came the pounding of hundreds of footsteps from upstairs and a weak cry of pain.

Cassandra’s eyes snapped open and she jerked away from Dean. “Harry,” she muttered.

She ran up the corridor, Ron and Hermione close behind her. Dean ran slightly behind, trying to get over the sudden appearance of his friends who had been missing for months, trying to work out what was happening to Harry and trying to forget about the way he had just held Cassandra.

Emerging from the dungeons and appearing in the Entrance Hall, all of them stopped at the sight that met their eyes.