I Can’t Remember Anything

"That red light wasn't a prank, Dumbledore!" gasped one of the portraits, clutching its chest. "It was definitely dark magic—I thought I was going to vanish!"

"Don't worry, I'll have you all restored," Dumbledore said soothingly.

Harry suddenly asked, "Was the red light a spell, or something else?"

Percy froze, his face showing shock and disbelief as he turned to Harry.

The Weasley twins also stiffened, while Ron stood dumbly by, murmuring words of comfort to his sister.

The portrait hesitated, glancing at the five conspicuous redheads nearby. "I… I don't know. But it was vivid—bright, dazzling red."

Percy let out a small sigh of relief.

The Weasley family's hair wasn't bright enough to match the description; theirs was a darker, golden-brown shade of red.

Dumbledore snapped his fingers.

With a sharp pop, a house-elf appeared before him.

"Did you notice anything unusual?" Dumbledore asked gently.

The elf trembled, its voice tinged with shame. "N-no, we didn't see anything. The students all returned safely to their dormitories. As for the young Ravenclaw witch…"

"We saw her go into the hall, but we didn't see her come back out."

The elf tugged at its ears, its expression pitiful.

Harry was taken aback.

He had experienced firsthand how unnervingly effective house-elf surveillance could be. And there were more than just a few elves in the castle.

How could they have missed something like this?

"Their magic is unusual," Dumbledore explained, noticing Harry's confusion. "But it's also limited. Wizards who underestimate them may regret it, but… they're bound by their nature."

"They serve wizards and are vulnerable to their spells. A single Confundus Charm might be enough to blind them to certain things."

In his explanation, the word slave remained unspoken, but the implication hung heavy in the air.

Defeated during ancient wizarding wars, house-elves had been bound by magical oaths and bred over generations to willingly serve wizards—willingly and eagerly, even.

It was a fate more complete and bitter than that of centaurs or goblins.

Harry's brow relaxed slightly. "So it seems Voldemort's magic has recovered to a certain level."

The Weasley family collectively shuddered.

"At least there's some good news," Dumbledore said with a faint smile.

Harry nodded. "He hasn't left the castle, and he's already showing impatience—making a move during Christmas."

"And Miss Crovatt is out of mortal danger," Dumbledore added.

Harry turned his attention to Ginny. "Ginny, is there anything you want to tell us?"

Her behavior from the start had been odd.

She acted as though she was unaware of what was happening—unfamiliar, even, with the events around her.

When Ron reassured her that their family, being pure-bloods, wouldn't be targeted like Colin, she seemed confused.

As if she didn't know who Colin was.

Or why being pure-blood mattered.

"Ginny's just a first-year girl!" Percy exclaimed, his tone unusually sharp. "She couldn't have done this—she doesn't even know enough spells to… to—"

"Calm down, Mr. Weasley," Dumbledore interrupted, raising a hand to placate him. "Let's hear what Harry has to say first, shall we?"

Percy took a deep breath.

Ginny looked uncertain, her face pale.

"Don't worry, the Headmaster is here," Harry said, his tone steady. "He might be unreliable with little things, but with big matters, he's dependable."

"Dumbledore is the greatest white wizard alive. He can solve any problem. But right now, Hogwarts' problems need just a little help from you."

Ginny shook her head. Her pale face grew even whiter, and she clenched her fists before summoning her courage. "I… I don't know anything."

"I just woke up in bed one day, and it was Christmas. The last thing I remember was getting off the train, and then suddenly… it's Christmas. I don't remember the past three months at all."

Percy went as pale as Ginny.

The twins clenched their teeth.

Ron fumbled with his wand, his hands shaking. He pulled it out, realized it wasn't needed, and awkwardly shoved it back into his pocket.

"Did you lose your memory right after returning to the dormitory?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow.

Ginny hesitated before nodding. "Yes, I definitely remembered everything this morning."

"Just now?" Harry pressed.

"But when we had lunch, I touched you, and there wasn't anything wrong."

Percy and the twins looked baffled.

Ron pulled them aside and hurriedly whispered about what he knew of Voldemort and Harry's connection—what had happened at the end of their first year.

Dumbledore's expression darkened, though his tone remained soft, almost consoling. "It might not be possession. Ginny, have you come into contact with anything unusual?"

Ginny furrowed her brow, thinking hard. "That day, Dad had a fight with Malfoy at Flourish and Blotts. When we got home, I found an empty book in my schoolbag…"

"You should have told Dad immediately," Percy interrupted, unable to contain himself. "Mom's said it a hundred times—anything, anything suspicious must be reported!"

"I thought it was just a second-hand textbook… and it felt comforting," Ginny said, her voice trembling. "So I brought it to Hogwarts."

"The professors said there was nothing wrong with it, so I…"

Her voice trailed off, her face clouding with confusion.

"I can't remember how I used it."

"Is the book still in your dormitory?" Harry asked.

Ginny shook her head. "Just now, I realized it's gone—along with my memories."

Dumbledore's expression darkened further, his face nearly stormy.

"Search every dormitory of the remaining students," he ordered a nearby house-elf. "Look for a book with no writing inside."

The elf shivered. "We… we don't have the authority to search the students' belongings."

"This is a direct order from the Headmaster," Dumbledore said firmly.

With a pop, the elf disappeared.

Ginny's eyes brimmed with tears. "Is it me? Did I do all these things? Am I going to be expelled?"

"No, Ginny, this isn't your fault," Dumbledore said gently, placing a hand on her head. "Voldemort's magic is something very few can resist."

"You're an innocent victim, manipulated by forces beyond your control."

Percy's fists clenched. "Malfoy! He slipped that thing to Ginny! No wonder he was acting so smug that day—I should've punched him harder!"

"I need to tell Dad."

"I'll contact Mr. Weasley myself," Dumbledore said. "Professor McGonagall will bring you to my office later. For now, go back to the common room. I'll have the house-elves bring food to you there."

He turned to Harry. "Harry, that includes you."

"I know you've realized something," Dumbledore said quietly.

"Yes," Harry admitted. "But I need to see it for myself before I can confirm what I suspect."

Dumbledore's voice held a note of pleading, faint and vulnerable.

It made Harry's chest tighten, as if he were plummeting from a great height into an abyss with no end in sight.

He nodded, his hand brushing over the scar on his forehead.

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Powerstones?

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