seven days lost

.

"If you're asking why this happened, all I can tell you is that it was an unfortunate accident. Very unfortunate and not at all your fault, Harry," she said softly, her voice extra soft, "but it's all right , we will be with you."

"But—but, you said I'm 24 years old, so what am I doing? Can I go to work in this state?"

Hermione and Ron looked at each other for a second, before the latter immediately said, "Well - you don't have to go to work, Harry, we'll just go."

"But……"

"Don't worry, you just need to rest at home, we will take care of you." Hermione said softly.

Harry bit his lower lip. For some reason, he didn't like what they were saying.Although he still can't accept that he suddenly grew up to 11 years old, he doesn't want to be protected by them like a porcelain doll.

Still nodding silently, he finished his breakfast a little stiffly - it was as delicious as he'd expected, but Harry wasn't in the mood to enjoy it at all.

Hermione and Ron told him a few more words and went to work at the Ministry of Magic.Harry declined Mrs. Weasley's offer, and went back to his room and sat quietly on the bed.

He stared at the window for a long time, from where he used to be able to see the goblins in the garden and the mountain road beyond.He looked at his hand, and it was indeed different from what he remembered—the palm was much wider, and thin calluses had grown on the fingertips.He looked at his legs, and he had to admit that he had grown a lot taller.

Is it true that as they said, so long time has passed, but he has forgotten everything?But what happened all these years, when did he become like this, and how long did they take care of him?Harry had so many questions he wanted to ask, but didn't know where to start.

He scratched his hair irritably, and suddenly, he remembered something - Hermione said that his memory can only be retained for one day, that is to say, tomorrow he will forget what happened today.

How is this possible?This is so ridiculous, he can feel that the memory just now is lying in his mind - how can the memory disappear for no reason?He remembers everything that happened, like yesterday, when he—

Harry froze in place.What happened yesterday?His mind went blank.The day before yesterday, the day before yesterday, and a week ago, his memory seemed to start working from waking up this morning... No, this is impossible, he clearly still remembers—he clearly remembers what happened during last summer vacation, he still remembers Ron and the others—

What else?A small voice asked from the bottom of my heart.Nothing else.

Harry grabbed the fabric on his knee in a jiffy, clutching so hard his knuckles turned white.He finally felt fear.

"Ding Lingling! Ding Lingling!"

Startled, Harry stood up abruptly.He felt something vibrating in his pocket, and he reached into it tremblingly.He touched a cold cuboid, its four corners were rounded, and it was very comfortable to touch.Harry took it out. It was a small instrument with a small screen in the middle, and the screen was blinking non-stop.

Harry stared at it in horror, not knowing what it was or why it kept vibrating.He saw the words on the screen: "Therapist."

Something flashed through his mind, Harry opened its flip cover, and a larger screen and a keyboard full of various buttons appeared in front of him.The original design on all the buttons has been wiped off, leaving only a green design.

With a strange intuition, he pressed down on the pattern.The instrument immediately stopped vibrating.Suddenly a sound came from inside, and Harry almost threw it out.

"Hello, hello?" said the voice. "Is this Harry Potter?"

Harry stared at it for a moment, then slowly brought it to his ear.There was an electromagnetic hissing sound and an imperceptible breathing sound from inside.

"Hello? Can you hear me?" The deep voice continued.Harry felt familiar now, as if he had heard it somewhere before.

"Uh, hello? I'm Harry Potter." Harry said cautiously.

The man seemed to be relieved, and continued: "Mr. Potter, hello, I am Draco Malfoy, your therapist."

"Draco...Malfoy? Therapist?" Harry frowned, he tried hard to search for the name in his mind, but he failed, and the title of therapist was also very strange, "Who the hell are you ?”

"I'm your therapist, and I've been treating your symptoms for the past few days." The man said, "I gave you this phone, and it has my number stored in it, and you noted 'therapist' .”

"Hmm..." Harry was still a little puzzled, "But my friends didn't tell me that I was receiving treatment."

"Oh, of course. Because you didn't tell them, we've been meeting privately."

"I didn't tell them?" Harry repeated. "Why?"

"You have your own considerations," Draco said, "and it was your decision not to tell them."

Harry didn't speak.He can't remember what happened before, so whatever he tells himself, he can't verify it's true.

"Why are you calling me?" Harry asked.

"We have a meeting today," Draco replied, "at two o'clock in the afternoon, at the coffee shop on Nars Street next to the Burrow, and I will pick you up then."

"...How do you prove that what you said is true?"

"You have a note in your pocket with this written on it."

Harry reached into his left pocket, and his fingertips felt a small folded square.He unfolded it, and there was a line of small words written on it: June 6th, at two o'clock in the afternoon, coffee shop, meeting with Draco Malfoy.

It is indeed his word.

Harry put the paper back into his pocket, already convinced in his heart.

"Okay, but I might not be able to get out," Harry glanced at the door, "Mrs. Weasley is still inside."

"It's easy to fix. You can go out the back door of the house, which is behind the boxes of quilts in the warehouse on the first floor. The key is in a small box on your bedside table."

"Oh...well. I see." Harry nodded half-understanding.

"Call me when you come out. My number is in the address book. Do you know how to open the address book with your mobile phone?"

He asked the question so deftly that he seemed to have said the same thing many times before.And Harry was embarrassed to find that he really didn't know what to do.

"Sorry, I don't know."

"After hanging up the phone, press the green pattern on the phone's keypad to enter the address book, and then press it again to dial my number. Any questions?"

"Uh...not anymore. Thank you, Mr. Malfoy." Harry scratched his hair.

There was a beeping busy tone on the phone, Harry put it down and looked at it carefully.

He had a personal therapist and didn't tell Ron about them, he thought, why?Maybe he should meet with him and ask him that question in person.Of course, he still has countless questions to ask.

Harry pressed the button with the green pattern, and sure enough, he found the address book. There was only one number in the address book.He opened his bedside table and found a small wooden box among a piece of waste paper. Inside the box was a small key covered with copper rust.

He took the key out and tried to remove the patina with his nails, but his nails were clean.

Mr. Weasley, Ron, and Hermione didn't come back at noon, and Harry and Mrs. Weasley finished their lunch alone.He has been absent-minded, constantly thinking about Draco's words, and looking forward to the upcoming meeting.

Draco Malfoy, that's a strange name.Who is he?How did I know him?Suddenly a picture flashed through Harry's mind.It was a mass of collapsing stones, rising black smoke, screams and cries, and some kind of sharp whoosh, and he was falling, falling, falling smoothly to the ground, and he was about to stand up. Leaving, the wrist was grabbed at once.He turned around, and in front of him was a young blond boy, his face was covered with sweat and dust, but his eyes were very bright.His lips opened and closed, as if to say something, but the memory gradually became light and thin, ungraspable.

Harry blinked; he was sitting at the table again, facing a bowl of pumpkin soup.

Draco Malfoy.He'd seen him, but back then he wasn't some kind of therapist, just a normal kid.

Harry walked out of the kitchen and tiptoed into the warehouse on the ground floor.The light in the warehouse is dim, there is almost no place for people to stand inside, and there are piles of old clothes, old shoes, old textbooks and old blankets everywhere.Harry sneezed and slowly squeezed his way through the narrow opening.He found the big box containing the bedding in the corner against the wall, and moved it away with difficulty.A small wooden door appeared in front of him.

With a deep breath, Harry took the key out of his pocket and inserted it into the keyhole.The wooden door creaked and slowly opened.

Harry stepped out, closed the door behind his back, and took the phone out of his pocket.

The coffee shop where they meet is on the corner of the street.The store was extremely crowded, and the owner built a small open-air pavilion outside the store. Many couples sat at the round table drinking coffee and listening to music, and the bright sunshine in the afternoon fell on them.

Draco sat him down at an empty round table.big parasol overhead