Name

Disclaimer: Harry Potter\'s universe is the sole intellectual property of JK Rowling, and I make no money from my dalliances in it.

I woke up in a hospital ward one day. That’s all I remember.

I know for a fact that I have been in this ward for a long time. I just don’t remember how or when I got here.

I know for a fact that I have amnesia because I don’t remember anything before waking up. I have general knowledge, but faces and history hold no value in my mind.

I know my amnesia is recurring. This morning I wake up with a piece of paper on my night stand in my handwriting that tells me of the previous day’s events and my thoughts on it.

I see a ledger on the floor when I go to stand, and pick it up. I see that other papers are in there about other days. I read a few of them and realize I have a steady visitor. He always makes me nervous because he never talks, but when he comes I feel like silence is better than talking.

I begin to feel annoyed at reading this and decide today we will talk. Apparently I decide this every day.

I write a bit on a fresh piece of paper and wait for him to come. It is evening when he does appear and I note the time. I write down what he looks like for future reference. He sits down at a small table and avoids eye contact with me.

I open my mouth to speak, but I seem to have trouble. I realize suddenly that I would feel bad if I talked, and that I shouldn’t, but the earlier frustration comes back and I become determined.

“Who are you?” I ask with a croaky voice. I suppose I haven’t talked in a while.

He looks at me with mild surprise and gives me a small smile.

“I am Severus.”

I am confused by this and continue, “Why am I here?”

He looks away and his lips barely move as he tells me.

“You were in a misfortunate circumstance.”

I am not very satisfied with this answer, but I try to think about why he would not be open with me. I don’t know why he visits me every day, but I try to come up with answers. Did he do this to me? Is he lying?

“Why do you visit me?” I notice my voice is becoming less scratchy.

“Because you remind me.”

“Of what?”

“Of a time when I was happy, and, sometimes, of why so many of my years were not sacrificed in vain.”

I listen to him speak and I am entranced by his voice, but I am saddened by what he says even though I don’t know why.

“Did you do this to me?” I ask him quietly, almost afraid of the answer.

He pauses for a moment, running his thumb over his lips, “Yes.”

“Why?”

“Because you did horrible things.”

“What did I do?”

“You killed people.”

“Why did I do that?” I am thinking this conversation is not going to be very productive because any thoughts I have will be lost in the morning.

“I don’t know.”

“Will I be like this for the rest of my life?”

He pauses again. I can tell he doesn’t want to continue talking, but I can also tell that he feels guilty and he will indulge me.

“Theoretically…yes. That is what everyone has voted on. There are ways to reverse your condition, but…never mind.”

I go to sit down at the table with him. He adjusts his position. I intuitively assume it’s a defensive posture, but I am not bothered by this.

“You visit me every day for…as far as I have read in my notes, so I assume we knew each other well, and I am sorry I caused you the misery of seeing me like this. Even though I don’t know what I was like before. I don’t even recall my name…”

I ponder on this point for a moment. I really don’t know my name. He must.

“What is my name, by the way?”

He looks suddenly sad and shakes his head, “I cannot tell you.”

He stands up and leans over to kiss my forehead. I feel slightly indignant at being denied my name, but there are many things I don’t understand about where I am.

He is nearly to the door when I stand and walk over to him. I circle him and throw my arms around his neck. He hugs me back and after a time I release him. He closes the door behind him but not before looking at me longingly.

There is a click and once again the room is silent. I am tired and decide to lie down.

An orderly enters with my dinner. I eat it under his supervision and I am curious again.

“What is your name?”

He gives me a slightly hostile look, but answers me anyway.

“Neville Longbottom. You know, we went to school together. I would even go so far as to say we were friends after sixth year. Before it happened.” he appears to hesitate, but keeps going, “I can’t believe you did it. Why did you kill them? They were your best friends, Draco!”

He covers his mouth and runs out, forgetting the door behind him.

Suddenly I remember it all. The years in St. Mungo’s, and the events before it. I murdered Ron, Hermione and Harry just after the fifth anniversary of Voldemort’s demise. I was going to kill Severus after I found out he was responsible for my father’s execution, but the trio got in my way.

Severus placed on me the most powerful memory charm in existence because he could not bear to kill me. No one would kill me outright, and blamed Severus for making them suffer me to be alive.

The only weakness to the charm is that its victim will remember everything if he hears his name.

Pity, really, the entire circumstance. Severus and I were engaged for nearly a year when I found out.

I sigh and shake my head sadly. Oh well, a debt is a debt. I write my name in the corner of my ledger where the ink blends in with the leather in case I end up back here.

A grin crosses over my face and I plot my revenge. Now, to get out of here.