Prophecy 472

Prologue

Cover by pxrfectly_sxrene

The weather had been horrible all day, and the boots of Auror Harry Potter left a trail of wet footprints as he walked quickly down the marble corridor. The dark interior of the Ministry of Magic had changed little since the end of the Great Battle three years earlier, though most of the staff inside the building were indeed new. The wizarding world was a different place now, more hopeful and open minded since the end of Tom Riddle's reign of terror. But that didn't mean there wasn't still evil to be fought.

Harry had spent the last three years training, working, fighting and tracking down every last known death eater that had plagued the magical communities of Britain and beyond. He'd been promoted early and often in his career and currently led one of the most skilled auror teams the defense department had ever known. They'd been set to go out on one of their most dangerous missions yet, but there was a problem. There was always a problem.

"You want to tell me the meaning of this?" Harry stormed into the small holding room, where a lone figure sat in a chair front and center. His ginger hair matched the shade of red his face was quickly becoming. He was a few inches taller than he had been during his last years at Hogwarts and had grown wider and leaner throughout his chest and arms. But it was the same temper underneath.

"Give me a break," Ron Weasley shouted back. "You think I have any bloody idea what's going on here?"

Harry looked down at the sheaf of papers handed to him earlier that day by his boss, Auror Department Head Robards. The papers were meant to explain why Ron had been barred from this particular mission, but Harry couldn't make any sense of it. Scanning the notes, he read something about failure to pass mental inspection.

"Mental?" Harry said quietly to himself.

"Is that what they said?" Ron shouted, throwing his hands over his head in exasperation. "Mental my arse. You should have got a look at the git they had administering this test. He kept going on about 'Look into the light son' and 'Hop around on one foot and touch your nose.' I think they need to get him checked out next, if you ask me."

Harry gave his friend a bemused grin. In the ten years the two had known each other, Ron had never failed to pinpoint the ridiculous in a situation.

"Hello boys," said a loud voice from behind Harry. Both men turned to see Robards walk into the room, closing the door behind him. He carried a hefty stack of papers and conjured up a chair to sit in front of Ron in the center of the room. Harry leaned casually against the wall, curious to learn what Robards had discovered.

"It seems we have a bit of a problem here, eh Ron?" Ron nodded in response, keeping his mouth shut lest he blow up again in front of his department head.

"They say he's not fit for his mission," Harry said. "Which is frankly unacceptable. As you know, this next job is equally important and dangerous, and I need Ron with me on this."

"I agree Potter. And no one's saying Ron's not fit. We all know the two of you are the best pair we have on the job."

Harry nodded, feeling no need to balk at the compliment. Both he and Ron had earned their reputation, not least of all because of their work destroying the seven horcruxes that led to the fall of Tom Riddle. To this day, the wizarding world was still writing books and engaging in debates on the efforts of Harry Potter and Ron Weasley, asking the same question over and over: How did two boys, all by themselves, finally manage to kill Voldemort?

"We've found a blockage somewhere in the cerebrum of Ron's mind," Robards continued. "It's an unnatural block, something that could have only been done by magic."

"You mean someone's messed with my brain?"

"That explains some things," Harry joked quietly. Ron scowled at him.

"Precisely," Robards said. "It's contained in the memory center, but it's not like any memory charm I've ever seen. It's some complicated wand work."

Ron looked deep in thought, as Harry tried to puzzle out what this could mean for his friend.

"What will we do?"

"Well, we'll keep Ron here for a few days until we can break the enchantment, then I think everything should be fine."

"Right," Ron said. "Then I'll remember whatever it is I've been made to forget?"

"Exactly."

Harry continued to peruse the idea. It didn't sit right with him. Who would go after Ron's memory, and what could they have possibly altered? And why?

"Sir," Harry said slowly, "whoever's messed with his memory, how would we go about finding and punishing them?"

A brief frown passed over Robards' face as he considered it.

"I'm not certain Potter," he said finally. "Whoever did this, they went to a lot of trouble to cover something up. I've not seen magic this intricate in some time. It took a person of incredible intelligence to do it."

●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●○●

The tea kettle whistled from the small kitchen and the young woman moved briskly to the stove. Walking with the kettle over to the cupboard to retrieve a cup, she passed her open window and took a moment to admire the view of the green hills and rocky cliffs outside. The scenery in Cornwall was beautiful, and she was once again pleased she had chosen the tiny village of Tintagel to settle down in.

She walked into the sitting room of her small cottage, scanning for a book to read. The walls were crammed with books on shelves and she would sometimes read several a day. Her job at the town library kept her well stocked with reading options, a good thing as she had little else to entertain her. Certainly none of the electronics like televisions or DVD players that were common in the other muggle homes in her village. Not that she had many neighbors. Her little home was tucked well out of the way of the town's high street, and she liked it that way.

She settled in on the sofa with a book she knew well and read often. Skimming her fingers over the title, "Hogwarts: A History," she felt her breath hitch for just a second before she regained her composure. While reading this particular title was sometimes difficult, she liked keeping just one reminder of the wizarding world nearby; she had no other keepsakes to remind her that she had once belonged to a great, magical world. No flying owls delivered post to her door, no dishes cleaned themselves in the kitchen. In fact, she didn't even own a wand anymore. It had been three long years since Hermione Granger had uttered a spell, the most difficult spell she had ever had to cast.

A/N: Thanks for reading and please vote and comment!