Remember when I loved you-drarry story

Chapter 9

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"What?" asked Professor McGonagall, looking shocked. "Don't you remember everything, Potter?"

Harry shook his head in puzzlement. "No?" he said meekly, feeling his heart sink.

"Ah." A look of swift realization dawned on Martha's wrinkly face. "Well, I didn't expect this, but it's quite alright. Don't worry. Just a small side effect." She smiled sympathetically. "It seems like your memories have barely begun to come back, Mr Potter, whereas Mr Malfoy's memories have been gradually returning ever since the stasis charm on the pregnancy wore off. It looks like the paternal bond's activation made it return even faster for him. Almost a quarter of it had already returned, so it was quite easy to joggle out the rest of it. Some people are also naturally resistant to any memory spells — which appears to be the case with you."

Harry stared at Martha. "What — what does that actually mean?"

Professor McGonagall looked appalled and terrified. "Martha, does this —"

"Does this mean I'll never get them back?" Harry choked out fearfully, his hands shaking. Desperation crawled up his throat, making it hard to breathe. Would he never get to the bottom of this? Would he never find out the reason behind Malfoy's anger? Was he destined to be in constant pain and confusion? How could he live without knowing his own fucking daughter?

Martha let out a small laugh and shook her head. "No, Mr. Potter. You misunderstand me. Not everyone has the same brain structure and make-up. For some people, the spell doesn't work instantly, but I assure you that there is no need to worry. Although it's unexpected — I just cast quite a powerful memory-extricating spell — it's in no way unheard of. In fact, it's a common reaction among people with naturally strong, formidable mental barriers. Their brains are fundamentally impervious and automatically reject all attempts at manipulation, whether good or bad — and of course, I had to struggle for quite a while to lock your memories in the first place."

Harry felt strangely weightless, as if he were floating through a dreadful nightmare. "What does this mean?" he repeated shakily. "I still don't quite understand."

"It means that this is natural and completely alright. For now, I've done all I can. Your memories should be back in a day or two," said Martha gently. "Make sure to drink plenty of water, and rest as much as you can. You might feel excessively sleepy and tired for a while."

Harry's chest squeezed painfully, and his gut roiled in terror. "What if . . ." he said, struggling to swallow. "What if they're not?"

Martha looked at his frightened face with a blink and let out a soft, exasperated huff. "My dear boy, don't worry so much. The initial spell was merely a weak, temporary spell," she divulged reassuringly. "It doesn't have the slightest capability to erase your memories forever. Your memories are hidden somewhere within your own mind. They will be back, but if you keep stressing yourself out by overthinking it, they will take longer to manifest. If you just relax and remain calm, I daresay, they will be back within a day or two at most."

Looking completely unconcerned and unbothered, Martha turned to McGonagall and glanced at the clock, squinting her eyes. "Now, Minerva, I must really be off," she announced. "I can't afford to stay any longer. I've finished the job I was asked to do, so please do not contact me again." She glanced at Harry's devastated expression regretfully and leaned in to whisper, "Poor boys. I shouldn't have —"

Professor McGonagall cleared her throat loudly. "I see. Thank you for coming all this way, Ms. Mayfield. You should be on your way."

Martha pursed her lips into a thin, hard line and glanced at Dumbledore's empty portrait. "Whenever they find out, I hope they never forgive me," she murmured quietly before stomping away to the fireplace.