A/N- Ok. Well, here is the next chapter. Thanks for all the reviews, by the way.
Speak
Chapter Two
I climbed inside Dr. Granger’s car, freshly dressed in a pair of baggy pants and a T-shirt. It was several sizes too big for me, but I didn’t care. I was just glad to be out of that horrible hospital gown. I sat in the passenger seat, staring through the windshield, while Dr. Granger walked around and slid inside.
“So, I have a Jane Doe with me,” she said, starting the car. “Since Jane’s my middle name, I’ll just call you . . . Kendra, ok?” she told me while merging into the traffic of the city.
“Ok, Dr. Granger,” I replied. “Kendra’s a nice name.”
“Let’s get one thing straight,” she said, looking at me while she was stopped at a red light. “We’re going to be living together, probably for a while. I want you to call me Hermione,” Dr. Granger said, with a serious look on her face. “Merlin, what have I gotten myself into?” she asked herself, turning right onto another street.
“What, is this a new experience for you?” I asked, trying to take away at least some of the tension from the car ride. The seconds felt like hours, and none of this small talk was helping. I had forgotten how to make small talk.
“Yes. I used to be an Auror, but since Harry defeated Voldemort, there haven’t been many Death Eaters to catch. So, I decided to use the little tricks I learned during the war to become a Healer instead. Since I’m new, though, the other healers have taken it upon themselves to ‘test’ me all month,” she said, voice heavy with bitterness.
“Auror? Death Eaters? Voldemort? What’re those?” I asked, feeling very confused. For some reason, the word ‘Voldemort’ made me feel very angry, violent, and sad. ‘Why, though?’ I thought to myself. No answer arrived, and I hit my head against the window. ‘Damn memory loss!’
“Never mind. Anyway, amnesia is a hard thing to get; you must have been in some sort of accident or trauma to get it,” Hermione said, giving me the impression she was trying to change the subject.
“There are three types of amnesia: one is anterograde amnesia, which occurs when a patient cannot retain any new memories. This type of amnesia usually occurs after a brain injury, which forms the cut-off point for memories.
“The second one is retrograde amnesia, which I am praying you don’t have. It is seen when, following a trauma, the patient is unable to recall important memories and information from before that event. There is no known cure.
“The third, which I’m hoping you have, is transient global amnesia. It only lasts for a short period of time, but affects a large portion of past memories.”
“How do remember all that?” I asked, amazed. Of course, I should not have been talking. I couldn’t remember anything - even my own name.
Hermione blushed. “I had to learn it all in order to become a Healer, and I love to read. It’s sort of . . . a hobby for me.” I was about to ask more about the different cases of amnesia, but she pulled into a parking deck and unbuckled her seat belt. “We’re here.”
Hermione led me up an endless flight of stairs, in a double-digit door, and down the hall to the end room. She dug around in her purse for her keys while I looked around the hall, feeling slightly uncomfortable. She finally found them and stuck them in the lock, showing me inside.
Hermione’s apartment was very small, but it had an incredible amount of books. I liked that. Maybe I used to like reading?
‘Well, at least I’ll have plenty of things to do when I feel bored,’ I thought, picking up the nearest one, which was called Potions for the Everyday Healer.
I looked more around the apartment. It was very messy, but more of the ‘I don’t have enough room for all this crap’ messy than slob messy. Cluttered, I guess you could say. There was a kitchen, a living room with a TV and a lot of movies and books scattered around the couch and floor, and an open door that I could see held a bathroom (cluttered, of course). Two other rooms that had closed doors were on the side of the room, both on opposite corners of the wall.
“It’s not much,” she said, climbing over a stack of what looked like reference books expertly. “I just needed a place to stay until I make enough to afford a better place. My friends offered to lend me money, but I just couldn’t accept it.” She looked a little bit embarrassed from the thought. I wondered why, but she changed the subject before I could speak. “You can sleep in the room on the left. You can probably see where everything is, so there’s no need for me to show you around. You should lie down for a while and rest; I’ll make some lunch.”
‘Yeah, because I haven’t gotten much sleep the past twenty-one years,’ I thought (The doctors had told me right before I left). I didn’t dare say anything like that to Hermione, though, especially since I was staying at her apartment. So I just nodded and walked over to my new room.
It was a pretty small room. It was furnished with just a bed, a desk, and a couple of - you guessed it! - bookshelves. ‘This woman must really love reading!’
I laid down on the small bed, sighing. I hadn’t thought I was tired, but it turns out that the Sandman can be pretty sneaky. I soon fell into a deep sleep.
A/N- The next chapter we get Lily’s first flash back! Woohoo!
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