seven days lost

I smiled at him—even though nothing happened today that would make me happy.

"Are all therapists like you?"

"What?" He didn't seem to hear clearly.

"Always pack yourself tightly."

He turned his head and glanced at me, the corners of his mouth raised slightly, but it was not obvious.

He was probably smiling, I'm not sure.

Draco took me to a small booth nearby and sat down. He took out a thin stick from his pocket - let me call it that - and waved it lightly, and the surroundings lit up.

"What is this?" I asked.

"what you mean?"

I stretched out my hand to take the thin stick in his hand, his hand flinched slightly, but he didn't push me away.So I got it smoothly, held it in the palm of my hand and looked at it carefully under the light.

I touched it and waved it like him, and finally came to the conclusion that it was just an ordinary stick.

I returned the thin stick to Draco, who kept looking at me strangely.

"Why can you use it to conjure light?" I asked, pointing to the lights that glowed around me.

Draco folded his hands, and he pursed his lips, seeming to consider how to explain.

"Tell me about how you feel today. What did you remember when you woke up today?"

"...I don't know," I replied truthfully, "I don't remember anything, I don't know who I was. Everything I know is from Mrs. Weasley, and from Saw it in the diary. I don't remember it all, I don't feel it."

"Do you remember that you are Harry Potter?"

"I remember, but it's just a name. I mean, even if you told me I was called something else, like...Percy, Dumbledore, I wouldn't feel it."

"You remember Percy and Dumbledore?"

"I didn't think of Percy, I just saw his name in the room at the Burrow. But I did think of Dumbledore, I think he was the Headmaster of Hogwarts."

"You remember Hogwarts too?"

"I only know that I went to school there, but I—I don't know the specific situation. Mrs. Weasley told me that the current Headmaster of Hogwarts is Professor McGonagall, and she said that Dumbledore has retired... But I don't believe it." I clenched my fingers, "I don't believe he's retired."

Draco didn't speak.He turned his head, moved his forearm on the table, and turned his head again.

"Is that what you wanted to talk to me about on the phone?" he said slowly. "You think they're cheating on you?"

"Yes," I paused, "I know they want to protect me, but I don't want to keep doing this."

"So, can you recall your feelings for Dumbledore? I mean, now that you remember something about him, maybe you can still catch something along the lines of that feeling."

I started to think back according to his words, I thought about the crimson coat of arms on the wall, the rusty "Gryffindor", and the conversation between Ron and Hermione... I tried to capture my emotions in memory , which is quite difficult for me, because those memories have become very blurred.

I closed my eyes, as if standing in the dimly lit room again, staring at Ron's leaving back, and Hermione's flushed face... Something was struggling deep in my brain, like something bubbling in magma Dead fish... In the solemn and cold courtroom, rows of condescending government officials in black uniforms surrounded them, their faces blurred into identical sculptures in the shadows; I looked to the right and saw a The old man looked ahead seriously, and the blue veins on the back of his pale and thin hands were very clear... When the picture turned, I yelled at the white-haired old man, turned my head and walked away, putting my hand on the doorknob... In the cold and dark cave, the damp wind blew across my neck. I flinched and took a step forward, but was immediately grabbed by a hand.I turned my head to look at him, and the old man looked back at me, his blue eyes filled with silver light.He spoke, and the old voice floated in the silent night:

"Harry, you must let me drink this bowl of water later... No matter what I say or how I beg you, you will force me to drink it, you understand?"

"I see." I heard myself reply.

I opened my eyes suddenly, breaking free from the icy sea water in a thrill.He grasped Draco's hand firmly, his knuckles turning white.

"No, no," I stared at the table, I felt a hot breath buried in my chest and couldn't exhale, "No... no... no..."

"Potter..."

"I... no... no..."

I don't know what else I yelled, or what embarrassing thing I did, I can't remember.My brain was burning like hell, like a circuit board was blown.I figured I must have scratched Draco's hand so badly, but he didn't complain, and didn't ask me right away.

After I finally calmed down, he looked at me, his pupils flickering with faint light.

"how do you feel?"

I looked down and I saw our hands holding each other.His hands were long and pale, with a mature beauty.My hands are much more ordinary, long and thin, with thin calluses and cleanly clipped nails.

"I see, it's a wand." I looked up at him, "but I don't have one."

"what?"

"My wand is missing and they didn't give it to me."

The corners of Draco's eyes seemed to twitch, and the hand I was holding seemed to be clenched into a fist, but in the end it just curled up for a moment and then straightened.

"It's normal. It's for your safety. Many patients will lose control of their magic power. Taking away the wand is a protective measure." He replied slowly.

He tried to pull his hand back, but I held it tight.

"I'm going to be okay?" I asked, but it didn't sound like I was asking him.

"You will," he said. "You will."

"I'm thinking of Dumbledore, I'm thinking. I really..." I couldn't finish.How could I forget all this?How could I forget such a person?How can I forget these things that are deep in my bone marrow, they wrap me like melting pains, make all the cells in my body tremble and tremble, it is almost unbearable...

"Potter, this kind of reminiscence is not a very good experience, if you don't want to continue-"

"No, it's impossible." I stared at him. "Impossible. I have to think about it."

Yes, this is my truth, what I really want to do.I have to think about it.Forgetting is a cruel sin, how can I forget?

Third day

The weather on the third day, June 6: cloudy to sunny

I woke up very late this morning, and it was almost ten o'clock when I woke up.I thought it was over, Aunt Petunia must be scolding me again, and Dudley must have smugly eaten my breakfast.

But when I sat up, I realized something was wrong.The room was huge—compared to my tiny attic—and very foreign.I remember that the bed in my little attic was narrow and hard, and the quilt was the same old patched quilt Dudley had used before, and an old wooden table was facing the window, and I could see the silent Privet Drive from outside.

I jumped out of bed and stomped on the ground with my bare feet.I can't find that loose board where I used to hide my textbooks and letters and food from friends because Uncle Vernon hated seeing anything magical and I had to Complete summer homework.

Have they discovered my secret base and filled it up?But why is the attic like this?Uncle Vernon never wanted to spend a penny on me, and I don't believe he'd be merciful enough to fix up my attic.No matter how hard I thought, I couldn't find a suitable explanation. Just as I was about to go out to wash up, the door opened, and a strange woman pushed in.

It took her a long time to explain it to me—I didn't have to live in that little attic anymore, and I didn't have to suffer from Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia's eyes anymore.

I was taken in by the Weasleys, it sounds weird, why did they take me in?When I asked such a question, Mrs. Weasley's eyes turned red instantly, and she let out a sob.

"Oh, Harry, you're our friend, and of course we'd like to take care of you."

"Ma'am, what did you mean just now that I have amnesia?"

"Yes, child."

"I'm sorry, I can't remember who you are...I mean, I gave you all such trouble..."

"No, don't bother, Harry. We will always take care of you and treat you like our own son." Mrs. Weasley took my hand, and her hand was very warm.I smiled at her, but it was a bit bitter.

Why is this so?Why did I become their friend, and why did I lose my memory? I couldn’t judge whether her words were true or not. I felt terrified. What should I do?

I got a call in the afternoon and I just realized I had a cell phone in my pocket.Dudley used to have a cell phone too, because Aunt Petunia was always worried that her chubby son would be targeted by bad guys.I want to tell her no, I'm afraid it will be very difficult to drag him away with his small whale weight.And that mobile phone was quickly broken by Dudley and thrown in an abandoned warehouse. I could still see its screen glowing with a strange green light occasionally when I passed by there.

I connected to the phone, and on the other end was a stranger