Chapter 9
When His Memory Got Erased


It was a week after the funeral, and Remus could feel the sadness growing inside him, increasing with each passing minute. Every day without Sunday just reminded him of how much he missed her, and although it is said that time heals all wounds, his just grew deeper and deeper, searing in pain.

“How you doing, mate?” James hand on his back and the cool wind of his voice distracted Remus. He looked up, and shrugged.

“I know what you mean.” James sat down next to him, folded his arms over his eyes, and sighed. “When will this feeling ever end?”

Remus didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. The heavy atmosphere, and the air that grew too thick to breathe. This happened every time they thought about her, talked about her.

“I have to go back to Sunday’s house today,” Remus said. His voice was sandpaper from the under-use of it.

“Oh?” James lifted his hands and opened an eye. “What for?”

“I have no idea. Her parents sent over a patronus, saying I have to meet them.”

“I wonder what the meeting could be about.”

“I have a feeling it’s about her will.”

“You think she actually wrote one?”

“Well, she knew she was dying, so why wouldn’t she have?”

James frowned. “What do you reckon she left you with?”

Remus felt tears sting the backs of his eyes, and he hastily cleared his throat, and stood up. “I wish she didn’t leave me at all.”

---

The first thing that Remus noticed was that the house was dark. Pitch black. It was around seven o’clock in the evening, and all the lights were off. He extended his arms in front of him, and groped around, trying to feel the corner of a table, the whisper of carpet under his feet. Suddenly, the lights flashed on, and Remus, surprised, doubled back in surprise, shielding his eyes. When they adjusted to the light, he lowered his hands and stared.

He saw Sunday’s parents, with Ella doubled over, a handkerchief over her mouth. Sunday’s dad rubbed a big hand around in circles on her back. In the middle of the room, was a big wooden table, with one golden box sitting on top of it. Behind the table, was an old wizard, who’s beard rested on his chest, and a long wand in his hand.

“What’s going on?” Remus asked.

“Remus? You’re Remus, correct?” The strange man asked. His voice was booming and powerful. Despite his nervousness, Remus nodded.

“Answer my question.” Remus looked at Ella, who caught his gaze and then burst into fresh tears. “What’s going on?”

“Remus, my name is Klaus. But you will call me Mr Smith.” He extended his hand, and Remus grasped it. He shook firmly.

“Mr Lupin, I work for the Ministry of Magic, in a special Department called The Department of Memories. I’m here to talk to you about Sunday.”

“What about her?”

“Well, when she found out about her...illness, she decided that, when she goes, the journey will be a painful one, not only for her, but for the people she’ll have to leave behind.”

“I don’t understand.” Remus looked around nervously. “You’re not making sense.”

“Please, Mr Lupin. Anyway, she came to the Department of Memories, and she signed...” He pulled out a long scroll of parchment from his pocket and set it on the table. Remus peered at it, not interested in all the terms and conditions, and breathed a small sigh as he saw her familiar swirly writing. “This is a contract.” He finished.

“A contract for what?”

Mr Smith gestured at the gold box. “Do you see that?”

“Yes.”

“Inside this box is all the evidence of Sunday. Birth certificate. Death Certificate.  All of her clothing. All her furniture. Everything that she has ever touched. Every memory that anyone has ever had of her.”

“And?”

“You see, Sunday realised that her sudden death is going to be a shock to her family and friends. So she decided...to erase herself from everybody’s minds. If nobody remembers her, how can they miss her?”

“Is this for real?” Remus yelled, facing Sunday’s parents. “Is this true?” When they said nothing, her turned back to Mr Smith. “How come I have never heard about this ‘Department of Memories?’”

“Well, the only people who do know of it are the people in the Ministry, who are under oath, and the people who sign the contract, who all eventually die.”

“Please don’t do this. I don’t want to forget her. I want to remember Sunday.” He turned to Ella and Sunday’s father. “Come on! Stop him! Don’t you want to remember your daughter?”

“I’m sorry, Mr Lupin, but I have no choice. She signed the contract.” He picked the gold box off the table, and hovered his wand over it.

“NO!” Remus roared. But it was too late. Mr Smith tapped the box. Remus’ mind was blank. He had no idea where he was. “What am I doing here?” He asked

Mr Smith smiled. “What, indeed?”

---

“Remus!” James called. “Where have you been, mate? We’ve been looking all over for you!”

“I have no idea.” Remus scratched his head. “I was in some house, and this Mr Smith guy put me on the Hogwarts Express.”

“What?” Lily asked, coming up beside James. “That’s so weird.”

“I know right?” Remus laughed. “Well, it’s late, so I’m going to sleep.”

“Really?” Sirius ran up to them and pouted. “We’re just about to go and beg the house elves down in the kitchen to give us something to eat.”

Remus shook his head. “Nah, mate, I’m too tired.”

“Suit yourself.”

Remus climbed up the marble steps, opened his bedroom door. He brushed his teeth, changed, and snuggled into his bed. Something bit into his wrist, and when he looked down, he saw he was wearing a watch. He took it off, wondering where he got it, and set it onto the bedside table. There were some words etched into the back of the watch face.

To Remus,
Forever.
Love, Sunday.
Remus leaned back into his pillow, frowning. Who in the world was Sunday?

---

Author's Note: Ooh. And the drama heightens ! A review is muchly appeciated, as always. Criticism is welcomed with open arms.