Challenge: Post War#55: One of the boys loses their memories and the other much teach him who he is and what they were to each other.
Summary: My name is Harry.
Word count: 5185
Disclaimer: Harry was not permanently harmed in the writing of this fic.
Beta Thanks: kanoei - she awesomely turned this right around so that I could post before my travels
It was a dream. A snake, no a man like a snake attacked him with bright green light. Red piercing eyes bored through him. Screaming, he thrashed from side to side in the hospital bed and nearly tore his IV out. Two orderlies and a nurse had to restrain him.
He bolted upright and opened his eyes. His eyes darted around the room and tried in vain to focus. His breathing was heavy and erratic.
“It’s all right luv,” an older woman said in a soothing tone. “You’re in the hospital. We’re going to take good care of you.”
He relaxed slightly. The nurse adjusted the bed so that he could sit up against it.
“Here, put on your glasses,” the orderly said as he placed them in Harry’s hand.
He didn’t remember wearing glasses. Just the same he put them on and then he could see. He looked around the room. There was another bed, but it was empty. As he took in the surroundings, he noted that nothing seemed familiar.
The nurse wrapped a strange band around his arm and it tightened as a nearby machine beeped and flashed numbers. She stuck something else in his ear and that beeped as well.
“I’ll be done in a minute,” she said.
After, she scribbled something down on a clipboard that hung on the end of his bed.
“What’s your name, luv?” she asked in a motherly tone.
He opened his mouth to speak and became frightened when he was unable to answer.
“I don’t know.”
Sympathetically she looked at him and asked, “Do you remember how you got here?”
He thought hard but nothing came to mind. He shook his head.
“Would you like to use the loo?” she asked.
He nodded and she helped him walk to the bathroom. After relieving himself, he spent a few minutes looking in the mirror. Anxiety flooded through his veins as he realized that he didn’t even recognize his own reflection. He splashed cold water on his face and the nurse helped him back to the bed.
“Well you lay back and rest. I’m going to get the doctor.”
A short time later, the nurse came back with some water to drink and some crackers to eat. She told him that lunch would be soon and if he stomached the food, they would be able to remove the tube out from the back of his hand. Again, she asked him his name and simple questions like what year is it and how old was he, but he could not answer. She also told him that he was found wandering the streets of London late the previous night. He had a few small cuts and collapsed when the police tried to question him. She left him with instructions to try and get some rest and that the doctor would be along soon.
It didn’t take too long before he fell asleep and slipped into another dream. Only this one was somehow comforting. There was a young red haired man. The man was lying on his side and smiling at him. The man ran his hand along his arm and seemed to be whispering soothing words. He was startled from the dream when someone came in with a lunch tray.
Soon after lunch, the nurse removed the I.V. and he met Dr. Ellis. She was a tall middle-aged woman who wore her hair up in some sort of twist. She seemed nice enough and asked him all sorts of ordinary questions about himself and his family that he couldn’t answer.
“Unfortunately, you were found without any identification,” she explained. “Your clothes are here in this bag, just jeans and a black t-shirt. Nothing noteworthy. The only possessions that you had were these.” She reached under the bed and pulled out a small white plastic bag and removed two items. She handed him a small patch that had a crest with a lion on it and a stick that was perhaps ten to twelve inches long.
He studied them carefully.
“Do you recognize them?” she asked.
He shook his head.
“Well, hang on to them. Maybe you’ll think of something. Most of the time with amnesia patients your family comes to find you and your memory returns quite suddenly. In the meantime, why don’t you look through this and see if anything seems familiar.” She handed him the day’s newspaper and told him to have the nurse come and get her if his memory returned.
He scanned the paper. He seemed to remember how to read. He skimmed through articles about all sorts of places and people that were unfamiliar. Then on the third page he read a short article about a prince. He found himself reading the name over and over.
He finally said it out loud, “Prince Harry.”
His heart pounded. He was certain. He hit the buzzer for the nurse.
When she arrived a few minutes later, he simply stated, “My name is Harry.”
After the elation wore off, Harry kept reading and hoping to further jog his memory. An orderly came in the afternoon and took him for a wheelchair ride to his MRI test. Harry had no idea what it was going to be. It turned out to be a very stressful half hour in a tube while they took pictures of his brain. Harry closed his eyes and pictured the young red haired man staring at him with bright blue eyes. Sadly by the time dinner rolled around, Harry had remembered nothing else.
The night came and Harry slept with the stick and patch clutched in his hand and dreamt of the redhead watching over him.
Harry woke somewhat disoriented, but fairly quickly remembered the events of the previous day. Disappointed, he remembered nothing else. After a long shower, he felt refreshed although tentative about facing the day. He had this overwhelming feeling that he was lost.
He had scrambled eggs for breakfast and pondered if he liked them. After staring at the lion patch and the stick for a long while, he pulled on a hospital dressing gown and decided to go for a walk. Harry found a small sitting room with several patients. He did a double take when he saw a redheaded man sitting at a table with a chessboard. The man was far older than the man in his dreams. This man was perhaps even his father’s age whoever that may be and he had noticeably less freckles than the man from his dreams.
“Hi,” Harry said as he approached the man.
“Hi there. Do you play?” the man asked hopefully.
“I’m not sure.”
The man smiled and asked, “Are you all right?”
“I have amnesia,” Harry stated.
“Oh. Well, sit down and let’s see what happens. I’m Stephen by the way.”
Stephen opened by moving his King’s Pawn out two spaces. Harry mirrored the move. Several moves later, Harry remarked, “I guess I know how to play chess.”
“The mind is a fascinating thing,” offered Stephen and then took Harry’s Knight. “Although, I’m sorry to say, you’re not very good.”
Harry played and lost three games before returning to his room for lunch.
Dr. Ellis stopped by in the afternoon and they talked for a while. She asked him lots of questions about school, friends and family. None of which he could answer. He told her about the red haired man and how he played chess in the morning. She smiled and seemed to think it a good sign. He wasn’t sure why, but he held back on telling her about the snake-man dream. The hospital was in touch with the police about missing persons and hopefully someone would come looking for him. His MRI showed no brain damage. He could stay another day, but then would be transferred to another facility if his memory didn’t come back or they couldn’t locate his family.
Shortly after the doctor left, Harry found himself fixated on the stick and lion patch. He picked up the stick and waved it around playfully. There was a bright light as Harry had the oddest sensation of being windswept. In fear, he dropped the stick. He took a deep breath and muttered to himself, “I’m afraid of a stick.”
He picked it up and then placed his two worldly possessions on the tray table and stared at them. His head began to hurt, but no thoughts or images were coming to mind. Feeling utterly lost and alone, he suppressed the urge to cry.
Shortly after dinner, there was a loud tapping at the window.
“What the?” Harry said as he approached the window to find a large white owl tapping its beak furiously against the glass. The animal was looking him in the eye and flapping its wings wildly. It was just too bizarre and on top of that it was still quite light outside. Owls came out at night. Didn’t they?
He opened the window and the owl flew in and settled on his shoulder hooting away excitedly. The owl must know him. Perhaps it was a pet? He held out his arm and it jumped to it and stared at Harry’s eyes.
“I’m sorry,” he said with affection. “I don’t remember you.”
The owl hooted as if it understood. Harry was beside himself. Then abruptly the owl flew about the room and swooped down across the tray table. It picked up the lion patch in its talons and then headed for the window.
“Hey, that’s mine,” Harry yelled in vain as the owl flew off into a bright blue sky. Harry picked up the stick, his last possession, and held it tight to his chest and began to cry.
“Who am I?” he yelled so loud that a nurse came to check on him. With soothing words, she settled him into the bed and somehow managed to pry the stick from his hands. She gently placed it on the tray table and encouraged Harry to close his eyes and rest. He fell asleep dreaming again of the red haired man smiling at him and stroking his face.
There was a loud tapping noise again. Opening his eyes, Harry saw that the white owl had returned. It was dark outside. He went to the window and let the bird in. She hooted several times and flew in circles around his head.
Noticing that her talons were empty he said, “Hey, where’s my patch that you stole?”
Out of nowhere, there was a tall red headed man standing in front of him. He had a strange shimmering cloth draped over one arm and an odd looking broom in his hand.
Harry stared in shock and tried to speak, “How…Where did you…?” Harry recognized him as the man from his dreams.
“Harry!” the young man said and flung his arms around Harry.
Harry thought about what the doctor had said, how family usually shows up looking for you and take you home and then your memories return.
Just then the man placed his lips to Harry’s and began to kiss him on the mouth.
Harry stiffened at the contact. “No, this isn’t quite a family kiss,” he thought.
The redhead pulled back at Harry’s unresponsiveness and looked him in the eyes, studying him carefully. “What’s wrong?” he asked full of concern.
Harry stared at the rich blue eyes staring at him. He remembered the dream and those blue eyes watching over him and comforting him. Harry realized that although he was frightened, it was of not knowing and not of this man.
“I have amnesia,” Harry said softly.
“I don’t remember.”
“Don’t remember what?” the other man asked urgently.
“Anything,” Harry stated.
“I need to get you out of here. Grab your wand,” the man said and nodded at the table where Hedwig was sitting next to Harry’s wand.
“My what?” Harry asked completely confused.
“Never mind.” The man extended his hand holding a stick and said something that Harry assumed was another language. Harry’s stick flew to the man’s hand.
“Here hold this,” the man said to Harry holding out the broom.
Hesitantly, Harry took the broom in his hand and then felt the other man slip his arm around his waist.
“Hedwig, go home,” the man commanded quietly.
As Harry watched the owl fly back out the window, he felt a strange tingling and pulling sensation. His stomach lurched. He closed his eyes for a moment and when he opened them he was in a dark room still holding the broom and the man’s arm still about his waist.
“HERMIONE!” yelled the redhead.
Harry was trembling with fear and confusion.
“Merlin, you must be freezing,” the man said to Harry. He steered him over to the sofa and sat him down. The man then grabbed a nearby afghan and wrapped it around Harry.
HERMIONE!” he yelled again.
A woman with long curly hair wearing bedclothes came rushing down the stairs. “Ron, what are you yell-“ She turned her attention to Harry. “Harry!” She ran to him and threw herself on top of him.
Harry froze up in her arms. Pulling away at the strange contact, she eyed him curiously.
His stare in return was empty.
“Hermione! He doesn’t remember,” Ron stated.
“I have amnesia,” Harry said trying to be helpful.
Ron explained, “I found him in a Muggle hospital.”
Hermione looked at Harry and then back to Ron before she said, “Ron, start from the beginning, please.”
Ron was about to speak when Harry interrupted him, “I hate to be a bother, but who are you?”
Ron and Hermione each shot Harry an incredulous look.
Taking a seat next to Harry on the sofa, Hermione introduced them, “I’m Hermione and this is Ron. We’re your best mates and this is your house.”
Ron sat on Harry’s other side, “And we’re gonna get you through this.”
Harry listened intently as Ron explained something about a battle and that he had been looking for him. Everyone else had thought him dead, but Ron knew he had to be alive. He explained that the owl, named Hedwig, was Harry’s and she had come to Ron with the Gryffindor patch.
“See,” Ron said pulling two patches from his pocket. “This one is mine and this one is yours. We always keep them in our pocket for luck.” Ron handed a patch back to Harry. Harry clutched it tightly.
Ron continued, “So, I grabbed your broom and invisibility cloak and followed Hedwig. She led me right to you, mate.”
Harry stared in disbelief.
“Harry,” Hermione asked tentatively, “do you remember magic?”
Harry shook his head.
Ron pulled Harry’s stick out from his pocket and asked, “This is your wand, Harry. You’re a wizard, a very powerful wizard.”
Harry blinked several times unable to process what they were saying. Finally he said, “They found me with that stick.”
“Wand,” Ron corrected.
Harry looked at him confused. “So you know who I am?” Harry asked, startling Ron as to how little of the conversation he understood.
“Oh, Harry,” Ron said sadly.
“What’s my full name? I only remembered that my name is Harry.”
“Potter. Harry Potter,” Ron answered softly, his eyes filling with tears.
“Oh gosh, Ron,” Hermione said, “I better go fetch Kingsley and get a Healer over here.”
She got up and headed to the fireplace. “I’ll be right back.’
Harry nearly fell off the sofa when she disappeared into flames.
“Would you like some water?” Ron asked.
They sat in silence for several minutes while Harry drank down a glass of water.
“You don’t have to be afraid, Harry. Not anymore,” said Ron trying to reassure Harry.
Hermione returned with Kingsley Shacklebolt and Healer Amoram who often helped the Order.
The Healer cast many charms and after she was fully satisfied, she stated, “It’s not a spell or a curse. These things can happen after stressful situations. I suspect it’s his reaction to the traumatic experience. His memory will come back. It just might take a little time. Keep talking to him and tell him about his life. Something will click.”
Kingsley and Hermione agreed that it was in Harry’s best interest to keep his condition quiet. Ron and Hermione would stay with him and Kingsley would do his best to keep everyone away with the exception of the Weasley’s.
After Healer Amoram and Kingsley left, Hermione asked Harry, “Do you remember anything? Anything at all?”
Harry told them about his dream of the snake-man.
“That was Voldemort. You defeated him,” Hermione responded.
Turning his attention to Ron, Harry explained, “And I’ve been dreaming of you. You were watching over me.”
The edges of Ron’s mouth quivered and his eyes filled with tears. He nodded once at Harry and then abruptly left the room.
Harry could hear the sobs from the kitchen.
Hermione gently patted Harry’s knee. “He’s very worried about you. We both are.”
“Are you hungry?” she asked.
Harry shook his head.
Hermione gave him a faint smile and then seemed to get an idea. “I’ll be right back. Okay?”
A few minutes later she returned with a large book. “This is your photo album. Here take a look,” she said placing it in Harry’s lap.
When he turned to the first picture, Harry gasped. “The pictures are moving,” he said in awe.
“Magic, Harry, magic.”
Composed, Ron rejoined them and they spent the next few hours going through the photo album and Hermione telling him who all the people were. Harry was saddened to hear that his parents were deceased. He carefully studied the pictures of Ron. He loved the stories of Hogwarts and Quidditch. They seemed like fairytales to Harry: distant places and imaginative stories.
Hermione sensed this and said, “It’s real, Harry.” She eyed him carefully, “you don’t believe, do you?”
“Well, Ron did appear out of nowhere and I was transported here.”
“But you still don’t quite believe,” Hermione said half questioning.
“I want to,” Harry whispered.
Ron held out Harry’s wand. Tentatively, Harry grasped it in his hand.
Holding out his own wand, Ron quietly said, “Lumos.”
In amazement Harry stared at the light emanating from the end of Ron’s wand.
After a few seconds, Ron said, “Nox.” The light went out. “Now you try.”
Harry tried it, “Lumos.” He gasped when the wand lit up. He stared at it for almost a minute before he whispered, “Nox.”
Harry tried it again, “Lumos.”
“Harry,” Ron warned.
“Sorry. It’s just really cool.”
All three of them laughed together.
“Oh, gosh, it’s after midnight,” Hermione exclaimed when she caught sight of the clock. “We could all use a good nights rest. Maybe you’ll feel different in the morning.” She addressed the last part to Harry.
“Come on with me,” Ron said standing up, “I’ll show you to our room.”
Without giving it a second thought, Harry followed Ron up the stairs. Ron first pointed out the bathroom and then gestured down the hall to the bedroom.
As he entered behind Ron, Harry studied the large room bathed in candlelight. It was simply furnished with king size bed, two nightstands, two dressers and two large trunks.
Ron went to one of the dressers and pulled out a set of pyjamas. “I’ll just take these and go,” he said nervously. “Yours are in the bottom drawer if you want to get out of the hospital clothes.
Harry glanced at Ron and then around the room at the furniture. Next he looked over at the open closet and noticed two distinctly different sizes of shoes on the floor.
“We share this room, don’t we?” Harry asked.
Harry looked over at the bed and asked straightforward, “We share the bed?”
“Yes, but I’ll sleep in another room tonight.”
“So we’re a couple?”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t think ahead on this,” Ron said uncomfortably.
“But we are.”
Harry blinked several times. He kept his eyes on Ron who seemed frozen where he stood. Catching sight of a photograph on top of Ron’s dresser, Harry walked over to see it closer. He glanced at the picture of the two of them sitting together with huge smiles on their faces. As he picked it up, he watched the animation more closely. Ron had his arm around him and he would lean over and kiss his cheek or snuggle closer.
“When was this taken?”
Harry stared at the picture. Nothing came to mind. When he looked over at Ron, there were tears rolling down the other man’s cheeks.
“I’m sorry I don’t remember. I wish I did.”
Ron nodded and made to leave.
“Stay with me?” asked Harry quietly.
Ron turned to face him, “I’m not sure if that’s such a good idea.”
“I know this is going to sound strange, but although I don’t remember you or us or even myself, I feel as if I do. You’ve been watching over me in my dreams and I liked the way it felt.” Harry took off the hospital dressing gown before going to the bed and getting under the covers. “Lie next to me, like in my dream.”
Ron gulped and hesitantly sat on the edge of the bed.
“Lay on your side.”
Ron took off his shoes and lay on top of the coverlet facing Harry.
“Prop your head up with your elbow, yeah, like that.”
Harry yawned and then the two fell into a long comfortable stare.
“You were talking to me,” Harry added as his eyes began to droop.
“What was I saying?” Ron whispered as he gently removed Harry’s glasses.
“I don’t know, but it was comforting.” Harry took his glasses from Ron and placed them on the nightstand on his side of the bed.
Harry closed his eyes and listened to Ron tell him that everything was going to be all right. He fell fast asleep in minutes.
When Harry awoke in the morning it was to the sound of Ron’s loud snores. Ron had changed into his pyjamas and joined Harry under the covers. Harry liked the warmth of his body so close to his own. He closed his eyes, snuggled closer and fell back to sleep. When he awoke a second time, Ron was gone.
Harry took a shower and found himself a pair of jeans and a t-shirt. He could smell breakfast cooking as he made his way downstairs. Hermione and Ron were seated at the table eating as an older woman hummed happily over the stove. She turned to him as he cleared his throat.
“Oh, Harry dear, we were all so worried,” she cried out as she pulled him tonight to her bosom.
“Errr,” Harry said softly.
She released him and studied him carefully, “You still don’t remember do you?”
He stared at her blankly and then looked sadly over at Hermione and Ron. He shook his head.
“That’s my mum,” Ron said.
“Oh. Hello Mrs….Mrs…” Harry was stuck. He looked over at Ron and Hermione, who seemed to be on the verge of tears again.
“Weasley,” Mrs. Weasley said definitively. “Molly Weasley, but you just call me mum.”
“Mum!” Ron exclaimed.
“Well I’ve been meaning for him to start,” she declared to her youngest son. “Now’s the perfect time.”
“Okay, Mum,” Harry responded tentatively.
“Now sit down,” she ordered, “and eat some breakfast.”
She placed a plate overflowing with sausages, eggs and toast. Harry began to eat rather quickly. He hadn’t realized how hungry he was.
Mrs. Weasley happily patted him on the shoulder and said, “Don’t worry dear, it will all come back. You’ll see. I’m going to go home and leave you kids alone to talk. Come to the Burrow for lunch. Perhaps it will help you remember.”
“All right Mum,” Ron answered. “And thanks for breakfast.”
“Yes, thanks,” Hermione added.
“Me too,” Harry stated with a mouth full of eggs.
The three spent the rest of the morning walking around Number 12 Grimmauld Place looking at magical items, books, photographs, really anything in an attempt to jog Harry’s memory. When Harry saw the Wizard’s chess set, he told them about the red haired man in the hospital and how he knew how to play. Ron played a quick game with him. Harry’s eyes nearly popped out of his head the first time one the pieces took on a life of its own.
They had lunch at the Burrow with Ginny and the twins. The twins were even on their best behaviour around Harry. After lunch everyone thought that a pick up game of Quidditch was in order. Ron Floo’d back to Grimmauld place to get his and Harry’s brooms. When Ron reached the Burrow’s makeshift pitch, he found Fred trying to teach Harry how to mount a broom.
“Oi, try this one mate. Your Firebolt is the best broom of the lot,” Ron called out.
It took Harry several tries, but he finally got the broom to take flight. After only a few minutes in the air he was flying as fast and diving as hard as Ron had ever seen him. Ron looked over to Hermione and nodded happily.
Harry landed next to them and exclaimed, “Wow, that’s amazing!”
“You look like your old self out there,” Ron said.
“All of a sudden, I just knew. I didn’t remember. I knew. It was like how I knew how to play chess or how I…” Harry looked at Ron thoughtfully. “How I know you.”
Hermione looked at Harry thoughtfully and said, “I’d like to try some more spells. Why don’t you get out your wand.”
“I left it at our house.”
Hermione gave a long sigh, “Harry, first rule of being a Wizard: always carry your wand.”
“Where’d you leave it?”
“On the nightstand.”
Hermione offered, “You boys fly for a while. I’ll go back and get it.”
After an afternoon of flying, swimming and Harry easily mastering every simple spell that Hermione had him try, they had supper at the Burrow. Bill and Fleur joined them as well. Harry was having trouble keeping everyone’s name straight. The evening was spent listening to more tales of Hogwarts and learning to play exploding snap.
Harry was exhausted by the time they returned home. He tried not to stare as Ron changed into his pyjamas, but the young man seemed to draw his attention. When they climbed under the covers, Harry snuggled up to the other man’s body.
Leaning into Ron’s neck Harry whispered, “I may not remember you, but my body does.”
Ron felt Harry’s erection pressing against his thigh. He nervously responded, “I’m not sure this is such a good idea.”
“Why not?” asked Harry as he gently nibbled on Ron’s neck.
“Oh,” Ron took a deep breath through his nose and wriggled under the touch of Harry’s lips against his skin.
“Hmmm?” Harry questioned again.
“Nothing is coming to mind, but I’m sure Hermione would have a list.”
“Thankfully she’s not here.” Harry boldly ran his palm over Ron’s crotch.
“Oh, Harry, you’re not playing fair.”
“I’m not playing at all.”
Any shred of resistance left in Ron’s body evaporated as he covered Harry’s mouth with his own in desperate desire. They kissed like it was the first time and for Harry it was.
Without any inhibition, Harry reached inside of Ron’s pyjamas and stroked his erect cock. Ron moaned and jerked his hips at Harry’s touch. All the while they kissed and pressed their bodies close together.
“I want to fuck you,” Harry declared half growling.
Ron’s cock twitched in Harry’s hand as Ron moaned, “You’re killing me.”
“Can I?” Harry breathed against Ron’s skin.
Ron peeled off his bottoms and then reached for his wand. “There’s a lubrication spell,” he explained to Harry.
While Ron cast the spell, Harry stripped off his pyjamas. It only took a few moments for Harry to work in two fingers and resume stroking Ron’s penis. Ron could barely speak the lubrication spell with his wand pointed at Harry’s throbbing cock.
Wasting no time, Harry climbed on top and pushed himself inside. Ron moaned and wrapped his legs around Harry’s waist.
“Go slow. It’s been a few weeks,” Ron said in between heavy breaths.
Just a half dozen thrusts or so and both of them came with guttural moans.
A quick cleaning spell and a few minutes later, Harry was curled up against Ron’s side. Harry had a sated smile plastered on his face. He traced his finger around Ron’s nipple and said, “I guess there’s something else besides chess and flying that I remember how to do.”
Ron let out a long sigh and said, “You’re different like this.”
“It’s hard to explain. I saw it all day. You’re still you, just a little lighter perhaps. You always had so much to deal with, so much of the world to shoulder. I suppose this is how you would be without all that.”
“Mmmmm,” Harry responded sleepily. “Ron?”
“What happens if I don’t get my memory back?”
“But what if-”
“Harry, you’ll remember.”
“And if I don’t?”
Ron thought about it for a moment, “Doesn’t matter. Either way, it’s all the same.”
Harry smiled at that idea. Ron pulled the blankest over them and they soon fell asleep.
In the morning, Hermione burst into their room yelling, “Come on you guys, it’s almost noon.”
“Don’t you ever knock?” Ron yelled with Harry splayed across his bare chest tonguing his nipple. A single sheet draped about their waists.
Her eyes went wide when she realized what she had walked in on. “Ron!” she exclaimed. “I don’t believe you.”
“How dare you!” Ron retorted.
Harry turned and faced Hermione, “Don’t yell at him. It was my idea.”
Hermione regained her composure and explained, “I just don’t think that it’s such a bright idea to jump into bed together. You don’t even remember him.”
“I remember enough,” Harry replied.
Ron calmly asked, “Hermione, do you remember the first time Harry and I kissed?”
“No,” she answered somewhat confused.
“Funny, I do, “ Ron said staring her down.
A moment of silence passed and then Hermione started to giggle. Soon it turned into a hearty laugh and Ron was laughing just as hard along with her.
“What?” Harry asked not understanding.
Ron smiled wide and replied, “I have never bested her with words, ever.”
Harry looked over at Hermione and back to Ron. And then he said, “Sure you did. Remember when she walked in on us that first time. She called us rabbits and you said that she was just mad cause we had figured out something without her help.”
Both Hermione’s and Ron’s eyes went wide. They stared at Harry in amazement.
“What else do you remember?” Hermione asked excitedly.
Harry paused to think. A smile crept across his lips and spread to his eyes.