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Chapter 5 : Oblivion
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Thanks so much Schultz. @ TDA for doing this great, great, great chapter image!
“Please, I know you're really good at Memory Charms, and-”
“No, Willow. I'm not going to do that,” I stated resolutely. No way in hell was I going to do that to Willow. It could go horribly wrong. She could end up forgetting more than just James laughing at her.
“I love him, Fi. James, I mean. I love him more than I care about myself.”
Poor Willow. I didn't know what I'd have done if Louis had rejected me like that. Louis Weasley meant everything to me. He was a part of me. I suspected it was the same with James, for Will.
“I'm sorry Willow,” I insisted, “it's not right. It's dangerous. I couldn't do that.”
“Okay,” Willow said. I frowned. Usually she was about as stubborn as a donkey stuck in mud. James had really hurt her.
She turned away, probably so I couldn't see her eyes fill with tears. I started walking back to Charms.
“I'm sorry,” she said.
“It's okay,” I comforted, turning back to her, “I know how you feel.”
“Obliviate,” she whispered, pointing her wand at herself.
Her eyes glazed over, as she fell to the floor.
“Willow? Willow! WILLOW! Wake up, please, wake up.” I shook her. She didn't wake.
“Stupid, Willow. What did I tell you? Please, please, wake up.”
Nothing was very clear to me when I woke up. It was a haze, and there was something not quite right. Like a little slither of information, receding from my grasp. I tried to get out of the bed, but I was strapped down.
Only there were no straps.
“Ah... you're awake.” A woman bustled her way into my vision. “Now, I have a few questions I'd like you to answer.”
“Okay,” I whispered. I was steadily becoming more and more freaked out.
Where am I? Who is she? What am I doing here?
“We'll start off with an easy one, shall we? What's your first name?”
“... I don't... know.”
Who am I?
“Not to worry, dear. Do you remember anything? Anything at all.”
I shook my head frantically, and attempted to get up. I failed.
A strange look crossed the woman's face. She walked out of the room, which I realised was actually long, and filled with beds, like the one I was in.
I watched the woman, who was talking to a black haired girl with a worried expression. Then the girl left, and I found myself drifting into a dreamless doze.
I awoke with a pounding headache, and an aura of confusion. A stack of cards and a jumble of gifts were heaped, next to a sleeping, blonde-headed girl of about sixteen. I stared at her, hoping to maybe jog my memory. She must know me, if she was sleeping on a chair beside my bed.
“Willow...? Are... you awake?”
I looked around, thinking perhaps she was talking to someone else.
“Stay awake,” she ordered. “I'm going to get James and the rest.”
I shrugged, and began to study patterns on the ceiling. That became boring, quickly, so I picked up a booklet that was labelled 'Hogwarts School Newsletter', by 'Kate Skeeter'.
Is that a school?
Am I in a school?
I read a few articles, steadily becoming more and more confused. There was one about a supposed 'hook-up' between Professor Flitwick and Professor McGonagall, and one about a poor pregnant chick, by the name of 'Willow Evergreen'. Eventually, I figured that it was for a school project or something, for a fantasy world, maybe in English class. Magic didn't exist, and it was mentioned, along with wands, and broomsticks, frequently in the newsletter.
“Huh,” I murmured to myself.
I wondered how exactly the pictures inside were moving.
But maybe that was normal. Maybe I'd been in a coma or something for years and years, and technology had advanced to be able to widely produce things like that. The portrait across the room was in motion, too. I was so immersed in my own train of thought that I didn't notice a white-blonde, too-thin girl walk in.
“Hey Willow,” she said, supposedly to me. She caught the look on my face.
“Do I know you?” I was curious. I couldn't recall having seen her before.
“Oh-my-gosh! Willow! I'm like, your best friend forever!”
“Nope. Don't remember you.”
“So you really don't remember? Anything?”
“I really can't.”
“Well, you're Willow Evergreen. And you like, got pregnant with James Potter's baby, because he got you drunk at a party. Then those girls; Bella Flint – who's like, half Deatheater – and Sophia Lovegood, with the whole Weasley and Potter family, they like, knocked you out and killed your foetus thing and then made you forget everything! And I'm your best friend, Kate. Kate Skeeter.”
I felt sick.
“Is Bella Flint... does she have black hair?” I asked, apprehensively. Kate nodded. “And... Sophia Lovegood; blonde?”
“Yes,” Kate replied solemnly.
“She... said she was going to get James and some others. Is James the one who knocked me up?”
“Yep. Now, listen to me. They may sound like they're telling the truth, and they'll deny everything over and over again, but you mustn't believe them. Got it?”
“But, if you're my best friend-”
Kate pulled a pained expression. “I am your best friend.”
“-why did you write that article? In that newsletter thing.” From what I could tell, the article had a nasty, spiteful edge. And apparently it was about me, written by my best friend. She laughed.
“Oh, that!” she exclaimed, picking up the newsletter. “Oh, I wrote that when I was completely mad at you!”
“Why was I mad at you?”
“Willow,” she said, sadly. “I don't know if you want to hear this, but I... didn't agree with some of the choices you were making. You wanted to have an abortion. So I was being a bitch, really.”
An abortion? I would never have done that! Would I?
I didn't know. I didn't know anything.
“Right, I'm going to go now,” Kate said, with grin on her face. Probably happy that I was alive and alright.
“'Kay,” I murmured.
Oh my god. Evergreen was such a loser. And gullible, that's for sure. Although; I did have fantastic acting skills.
I smirked. Kate Skeeter was the best liar. Like, ever.
Green had it coming. She shouldn't have tried to upstage me in public. She'd been a total bitch, and I wasn't going to hang around for karma to bite her. I wasn't that sort of person.
I sauntered out of the Hospital Wing casually, and almost ran straight into Flint, Lovegood, Thompson, and the whole Potter/Weasley family. Plus a few others.
I smirked. Evergreen wasn't going to like them one little bit.
“Skeeter,” Lovegood stated.
“What the fuck have you done?” Lily Potter had a mouth on her, alright. Only an itty-bitty fourth year, too.
“Oh, you'll see,” I winked. “Green isn't going to like you guys, at all.”
“You fucking little bitch!” Lovegood slapped me, hard. I reeled back, in shock. How dare she? How dare she!
“Whore,” Rose Weasley spat in my face.
“You sleazy little, cowardly, sorry excuse for a witch!” Roxanne Weasley, that time.
Why were there so many bloody Weasleys and Potters? And Scamanders, for that matter!
James, Albus, Lily, Fred, Roxanne, Dominique, Louis, Hugo, Rose, Molly, Lucy, Lysander, Lorcan...
So many bloody people.
“I don't know what the fuck you've done, Skeeter, but I'm going to skin you alive, cut out your vital organs and hang them from the Astronomy Tower,” Thompson was a Slytherin, alright.
Then, Flint sent a curse at me, causing me to fall to the floor rigidly.
My eyes widened considerably when a large horde of angry people entered the hospital. I hoped, for a second, that they weren't there for me, but then they crowded around my bed.
The blonde that had been beside me when I woke up was sobbing. She was really pretty, but her face was red and blotched.
The others stood there, pale-faced and sombre.
“Willow... I'm so sorry...” trembled a tall guy. I didn't recall seeing him before. Messy black hair, brown eyes. Nothing registered as familiar.
“James,” sobbed the girl, who must be whom Kate called Sophia Lovegood, “shut up. She doesn't remember anything.”
“What the fuck did that Skeeter whore tell you?” a tall, skinny girl with black hair, freckles and vicious green eyes demanded. “I want to know what she said, so I can justify skinning her and hanging her organs from the Astronomy Tower.”
Aggressive much? What does she mean by 'Astronomy Tower'?
“Kate told me the truth. And I hate all of you, but especially you, James. For what you did to me. And I'd,” I choked on a wild sob, “like for everyone to leave, right now.”
“I'm so sorry, Willow. I know, what I did... was horrible, and I don't deserve your forgiveness.”
Was James always such a drama queen? Weren't most guys supposed to be arseholes in that sort of situation?
They all left.
Someone was standing in front of me.
She claimed to be a teacher, but no teacher would be caught dead wearing such attire. As far as I knew, cloaks and pointed hats were extremely last millennium.
And no teacher would claim to be a witch, teaching magic at a school for witchcraft and wizardry.
No teacher would claim that I was a witch.
No teacher would claim that I had made myself forget everything with a spell.
And no teacher would claim that my father was dead.
“Your brother is at your home now. No one else knows about this, but your father was killed by Scorpius’ grandfather, Lucius Malfoy. He escaped Azkaban – a wizarding prison – a week ago. You’ve been unconscious for two weeks.”
“Oh,” was all I could muster. Pathetic.
“The Christmas holiday starts in a week. We’re going to keep until then, and see if you remember anything over that time.”
I didn’t remember, though. I tried as hard as I could, but nothing even seemed the slightest bit familiar. I looked at the school records in my free time. I couldn’t attend classes, due to my inability to understand anything that was being taught, so I had a lot of free time. According to the detention records that Filch, the sort of cleaner, found for me, I’d been a real troublemaker. I was also a good ‘Beater’, whatever the hell they did. It was something to do with broomsticks. Probably.
Kate was by my side 24/7. I found myself despising her, and wondering what sort of person I’d been if I could have been her friend. Also, my other supposed friend, Tanya Zabini gave the impression that she hated my guts.
I spent a lot of time in the library, reading up on everything about magic that I could. It was fascinating.
Sitting in the library, being a loner was kind of becoming ‘my thing’. Madame Pince, this strange, old sharp woman who happened to be the librarian, didn’t like me much, for some unknown reason.
I walked into the library, heading for my favourite table with my endless supply of sticky-note pads that I’d found in the Gryffindor Tower, and a thick, dusty book. However, my table was occupied.
“Hi. I’m James,” said James.
“Hi. I’m Scorpius,” said a blonde, tall guy. Wasn’t he the guy whose grandfather killed my Dad?
“Hi. I’m Dom,” said a girl whose face looked so caked in make-up that it was difficult to make out her nose.
“Hi. I’m Albus, James’ brother,” said a dark haired, green-eyed guy of about fifteen.
“Hi, I’m Louis,” said a guy, who had Sophia Lovegood sitting in his lap.
“Hi. I’m Eloise,” said the girl who’d threatened to kill Kate and hang her organs up.
“Hi. I’m Fi… Sophia Lovegood,” said the girl who was sitting in Louis’ lap.
“Hi. I’m Roxanne,” said another chick, “and we’re kidnapping you, so come along quietly, and nobody gets hurt.”
“Are you sure brooms can actually fly?” I asked, nervously.
“Relax, Will. You’ll be fine, flying is instinctual,” Roxanne told me bracingly.
“For the most part, anyway,” Louis called.
These people, who had done something unspeakable to me, actually expected me to fly. Up there. On a piece of wood. They were fucking crazy.
“Besides, you might… it might trigger a memory. You loved flying more than anything else.” Sophia was using past tense.
“Fine,” they handed me a broom, “I’m going up.”
I kicked off.
Flying was absolutely amazing. I stopping ascending about 30 metres up, and waited for them to join me.
“I... I used to be afraid of heights, I think,” I hesitantly told them.
“Yeah, you did,” confirmed Sophia. “Up until second year. And you were a fantastic flyer. They put you on the team pretty much straight away.”
“It was just a feeling I had,” I had to almost shout, as the wind whipped around me.
“Well, that's a good thing. Maybe you're starting to remember,” Louis Weasley did a loop-de-loop. Show off.
“UM... I HAVE A QUESTION, ELOISE?” I yelled at her.
“WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOU GOT TOLD THAT YOUR FATHER WAS DEAD AND YOU COULDN'T EVEN REMEMBER HIM?”
I couldn't see her face.
I am so, so sorry for doing this.
Ugh, I hate myself.
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I don't know why this is happening!
Feel free to yell at me.
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