"Push the memory to the front of your mind." Harry instructed. "It will make it easier, so there's no mistake."
I shuddered as I pulled up the image of Goyle dying. My fault . Fuck, my fault. "So I won't remember it at all?"
"Not a thing." He promised, his wand touching my temple, and I felt the slight pull of his magic.
It didn't hurt at all as he pulled out the memory and I stared at the white wisp dangling from his wand like it was a snake. The pain in my chest receded as I watched him cast it off and it dissipated into the air. Marsh water rushed into the tent as my magic failed.
"Fuck." Harry turned away from me, casting the water back before it could soak the tent fabric beneath our feet.
I watched him as I ran through my memories. I knew Goyle Snr. was dead. I was positive we had killed him... I remembered capturing him and then... nothing. I shut my eyes, thinking. "We couldn't use this spell on others–the blank spot in my memories–it's so obvious."
"Yes, because I just yanked out a memory and you were awake the whole time. If I took it while you were sleeping and cast a confundus? Or even a low level memory charm? You'd just think you'd forgotten." He faced me tapping his finger on his chin and speaking in a higher pitched tone of voice. "Hmmm, how did Goyle die again?" Harry laughed, pushing back his long hair.
I looked away from him, back towards the marsh I could see from the open flap of the tent. I fucking hated marshes. I hated it here.
"We've been here long enough. Let's move."
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40 Days
FanfictionRon left November 15, 1997, and was gone for 40 days. Each day that passes, the locket wears down Harry, peeling back his layers, revealing aspects of his personality that Hermione had never before seen. Harry Potter the boy from the cupboard under...
