chapter three

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chapter three

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Miss Elora Cram,

I would like to formally apologize for my role in upsetting you during my visit a few weeks ago. Upon reflection, I've come to the understanding that the news I delivered may have been harder to hear than I had anticipated. It was never my intention to upset you, and I hope your opinion of me has not suffered.

My regrets are not the only reason I am writing you today. It has been a week into the school term and I am sorely missing your presence and assistance in my hospital wing. I would like to offer you the opportunity to return to Hogwarts and act as my healing assistant. I ask you this out of complete flexibility, if you do not feel up to returning, I completely understand and will not press the matter. I do, however, think that it may help your memory if you are in a place that you spent a significant amount of time in.

I hope you consider and accept this opportunity, whether that be now or at a later date.

Regards,

Madame Poppy Pomfrey

Matron at Hogwarts Witchcraft and Wizardry.

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I slam the letter on the kitchen table in front of Christina, who's sat reading over some paperwork. She jumps slightly at my sudden appearance in her kitchen, furrowing her eyebrows at the letter in my hands.

"Right there," I point to the end of the second paragraph, giving Christina a moment to read. "... it may help your memory if you are in a place that you spent a significant amount of time in." I repeat and Christina sighs, "She says it right there. Madame Pomfrey is a healer, a healer that I know you respect, and she says I should be in a place I spent a significant amount of time in."

"You are in a pl-"

"Christina, think about it! If I'm correct, I've been at Hogwarts for ten months out of the year since I was eleven. And I went through my things, all the items you claim came from my room, are old, and haven't been used in what seems like years." I snatch the letter back from her.

"Elora that is enough," Christina tries again, she doesn't look and stares solemnly at the table.

"I'm the amnesiac Christina, but even I can see that this isn't my home anymore." My voice is firm, with more courage than I had felt in the weeks since my return home. Day in and day out I moved around the house, doing the same things and feeling the same emptiness and isolation. I was drowning in an isolation created by my mind. "I'm never going to remember what happened to me if-"

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