A Stolen Past

A Bumblebee

Harry spent the next week at the Burrow with Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, waiting impatiently for Ron and Hermione to return from school, and for Dumbledore to bring word of his efforts to expose Dolores Umbridge. He had been furious when the old Headmaster had explained to him that extracted memories were inadmissible in court, and that the Dursleys - as Muggles - would not be allowed to testify (though Harry doubted that they would have done so willingly anyway). Nevertheless, as he was unable to do otherwise, he spent his days helping Mrs. Weasley around the house, writing letters to Ron and Hermione, and wishing he knew what Dumbledore was up to.

One week after Harry's visit to Privet Drive, Mr. Weasley came home from work dragging a large trunk and a birdcage. Harry immediately went to help him carry them inside.

"Can I help you with those, Mr. Weasley?" he asked.

Mr. Weasley smiled knowingly at him. "I should be asking that question of you - after all, they do belong to you."

Harry looked more closely at the trunk and the cage, and it suddenly struck him that they were the same trunk and cage he had seen himself carrying in his aunt's memory. "Where did you find them?" he asked in disbelief.

"Let's get them inside, and I'll explain everything."

After hastily depositing the trunk and cage in the living room, Harry hurried into the kitchen, where Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were waiting. Mr. Weasley had a jubilant expression on his face, and seemed extremely keen to tell his story. Without saying a word, Harry sat down across from him and waited for him to begin.

"Amelia Bones, the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, gave me your trunk and Hedwig's cage, Harry. Dumbledore convinced her to raid Dolores Umbridge's home and office. Your things were hidden in her house. Your wand and everything else are inside your trunk - we don't think anything is missing."

"But- what's that mean? Will I be getting my memory back now?" Harry asked hopefully. It was nice to have his trunk back, but it contained possessions that he didn't even know he had. His memory was far more important than anything he could possibly own.

Mr. Weasley's face fell. "Er- Not exactly," he said. "Unfortunately, Minister Fudge claims that she's been framed so, although he allowed your property to be returned, he's doing his best to prevent charges being brought. I'm afraid that not even Dumbledore will be able to restore your memory without Umbridge's wand, and until she's convicted, we can't lay a hand on it."

"What?" Harry demanded. "You mean I'm stuck with no memory of my friends until some stupid politician decides to do the right thing?" He didn't know much about politics, but he had often heard his uncle complaining about how long it took politicians to get anything done, and he didn't have that kind of time. He had half a mind to storm out of the house in search of Umbridge that very minute, but unfortunately - fortunately for her - he had no idea where she could possibly found. Otherwise, he would already be on his way to steal her wand himself. .

"Well, I might not have put it exactly like that, but... yes," replied Mr. Weasley. "I'm sorry, Harry, but it looks like it's going to be a slow process."

"Great," Harry grumbled. "Perfect. I'll just keep marking time until somebody who apparently hates me decides she wants to be nice and let me get on with my life." Fuming, he pushed himself up from the table, knocking his glass to the floor and shattering it in the process. With a wave of his hand and a muttered, "Reparo," he restored the broken glass and stormed out of the room.

Twenty minutes later, there was a knock on Ron's bedroom door. Harry, who was stretched out on Ron's bed, ignored it. He was still stung by the injustice of his situation, and he didn't feel like talking to anyone just yet. The door creaked open, but still he didn't look up.