Work Text:
Title: The Obliviation Cure
Series: Trope Bingo 2020
Bingo Square: Amnesia
Fandom: HP
Note: This is a completed one-shot. There will be no more added to this.
Summary: Maybe Lockhart could actually be useful.
Alice blinked and looked at her hands in her lap. She was in a hospital room and not a private one. She wasn’t sure what had happened.
She and Frank were in hiding at Longbottom Manor with Frank’s mom as their Secret Keeper because Dumbledore had told them that Neville might be the child spoken of in a prophecy about Voldemort’s defeat. Neville just had his first birthday last week. Had there been an attack? Why was she in the hospital?
As she tried to gather her scattered thoughts, she heard a male voice intone, “Obliviate!” She turned her head and saw a blond man in a hospital gown holding a wand at what appeared to be a furry female sitting in a bed. As Alice watched, the man turned to the next bed and again cast “Obliviate!” This time the victim was an older man who looked vaguely familiar to Alice.
The blond man turned around and cast again at the end next to Alice. “Obliviate!” She looked over and what she saw shocked her. It looked like her husband, Frank. But he looked terrible, his skin was shallow and sagging, and his hair was limp and thin. He was wearing a hospital gown and blinking and shaking his head.
The blond man turned away from Frank and towards the next bed, and Alice felt a surge of overwhelming anger. This man had just obliviated her husband! And he wasn’t stopping.
She didn’t know why he was doing this, why the healers weren’t here, why the man was in a hospital gown instead of robes. Was he an escaped patient? Or just trying to blend in to do his horrid deed?
Alice didn’t particularly care. She was an auror, on leave or not, and she wasn’t about to let this criminal get away with his behavior.
As she gathered herself to leap out of bed, her muscles shook. She felt frail. Alice assumed whatever attack had happened must have been brutal to have her feel so weak. But she wasn’t about to let that stop her from doing her job.
The blond man might be a Death Eater or just a run of the mill criminal or an escaped, insane mental patient. Regardless, he couldn’t be allowed to continue his evil. As he turned away to face the beds on the opposite side of the room, he passed by the foot of Alice’s bed.
Alice took a deep breath and threw herself on him. They fell to the floor, and Alice tried to wrestle the wand in his hand away. Her arms were too weak and weren’t working right. And her wandless magic was never very good - except for one particular spell.
Alice placed her hand right in front of the man’s eyes as he rolled them over and pushed her to the floor. She closed her eyes and shouted, “LUMOS!”
Even through her eyelids, she could see the brightness of the lighting charm, and she heard and felt the man fall off of her and scream.
Alice muttered, “Nox” and opened her eyes. The blond man was lying on his back, his hands rubbing at watering eyes as he rolled in place and whimpered. His wand was on the floor next to him.
Alice picked it up - it responded sluggishly with a few limp sparks, it wasn’t a good match, but it would do - and she flicked it towards the man. “Incarcerous!” Ropes twined around the man, still whimpering from the overpowered light charm.
Alice pushed herself to her feet and held onto the end of the closest bed. A voice, weak and threads but unmistakable to her ears, echoed across the room. “Alice?”
She looked over at the man who must be Frank. Whatever had happened to them, whatever new curse the Death Eaters had used on her beloved husband had undoubtedly been powerful.
She limped over to his bed. “Frank. You look, horrible darling.”
Frank grinned weakly, “S-so do y-you, s-sweetheart. Y-your h-hair. It almost l-looks w-white.”
Alice reached up and pulled a hank forward so she could see it. It wasn’t exactly white, but it was faded and lank, much like Frank’s own. She looked at him. “I don’t know what we got hit with, Frank. I don’t even remember leaving the manor or any kind of attack. But it’s almost like an aging potion gone wrong. You don’t look twenty-three.”
Frank shook his head. “Well, you d-don’t look t-twenty-one. You l-look m-may-be f-forty?”
A scratchy male voice from across the room interrupted them. “That would be because you’re both in your mid-thirties now. I don’t know what I am doing here in the hospital. Last I recall I was at work at the ministry. But you were both attacked in mid-November of 1981. Most adults know the story. You were in hiding, but when young Harry Potter destroyed You-Know-Who, you dropped the Fidelius. We all thought we were safe. But you were attacked by the Lestranges and Crouch, Junior. They crucio’ed you into insanity.”
Alice shook her head, wishing to deny the dry recitation of facts and hoping she wasn’t about to get worse news. “And our son? Neville?”
The man smiled. “He’s at Hogwarts now. You hid him, and they didn’t even see him from what the reports said. He’s in his second year? Third? I’m not sure.”
Frank cleared his throat. “W-what year is it?”
The man tilted his head. “Unless I’ve been here longer than I know, it is October 1993.”
The furry woman laughed. “Wrong! I didn’t do this to myself until August of 1995. Don’t recall anything after that.”
Alice hummed under her breath and pointed to the man, still whimpering and blinking watering eyes tied up on the floor. “First thing I recall from being here was hearing him walking around obliviating people. I know he hit both of you and my husband.”
The man looked down at the blond prisoner. “Hmm. Gilderoy Lockhart. The fraud seems to have accidentally found a cure for prolonged Cruciatus exposure on the mind - memory erasure back to before the point of the curse being applied. It wouldn’t cure the physical issues, but you are both long over those problems - the tremors and muscle tears and bone fractures. He obliviated himself by trying to use a broken wand to Obliviate some children at Hogwarts in the spring of 1993. And ruined his entire life. He was exposed as a fraud who stole people’s memories and accomplishments and published as if they were his doings. He now he’s solved a major Mystery.”
The man looked across the room at Alice and Frank. “I apologize. I work in the Department of Mysteries, and I find research into magic fascinating.”
Alice nodded. “So, it is at least August of 1995?”
The furry woman shook her head. “September. It was the 31st of August when I performed my experiment. And I am sure that wasn’t today.”
Alice nodded. “Alright. So, Frank and I have lost at least 14 years, and you, mister mystery, lost at least two years.”
The man chuckled. “Again, my manners are terrible. Broderick Bode.”
The furry woman smiled. “My name’s Millisant MacMillan.”
Six of the other seven patients who had been quiet until now spoke up with their names and the last date they recalled. Alice did the math in her head and told them all, “Well, we now know it is currently at least late November 1995.”
Frank nodded, “W-We also know that the Obliviate curse can c-cure many m-mind problems, as I recognize this ward, now. Or, r-rather, I recognize the hallway outside that door window. This is the J-Janus Thickney Ward, and it is for long-term, untreatable p-patients with some form of insanity. L-Lockhart was totally obliviated, though he seems to have retained enough knowledge to be a danger. Alice and I were Cruciatus victims. I s-suspect that Millisant had the mind of an animal as well as the body we see. And so on.”
Broderick nodded. “A fine summation from two wonderful former aurors. I don’t know what landed me here, but considering my work, it could be any number of things. And I believe this ward had at least five other victims of the Cruciatus curse. It could be more. But the Obliviates have undone all of that. Marvelous. Simply marvelous.”
Alice smiled at the older man, fondly. “Now, we just have to figure out what happened to the healers and -“
The patients all looked toward the door as it clicked and opened. A woman in healer's robes backed in, pulling a cart. As she backed into the room, she spoke cheerfully, “Good afternoon, everyone! Just look at the lovely Christmas presents that have been delivered for you all.”
The healer turned around and screeched, “Gilderoy! What happened?”
Alice spun the wand in her hand and smiled. “Leave him be for now. We have questions and need answers, largely thanks to Lockhart and whoever allowed him to get hold of a wand. Number one being: What is today’s date?”
The healer stared at the wand pointed at her. “December 24.”
Alice smirked, “And the year?”
“1995.”
“Well, 14 ½ years for us, Frank. I suggest you go get your superiors. This ward is going to be emptying out pretty soon.”
The healer nodded and backed out of the ward, tripping over the cart as she went, knocking several things to the floor. Millisant got out of bed and reached to pick them up when Frank barked out a harsh, “Stop!”
Millisant backed away, and Frank pointed to the potted plant she had been about to grab. “Th-that’s d-devil’s snare! It will k-kill you if you touch it and w-wake it.”
Alice shook her head, “What kind of hospital is this? No supervision of dangerous patients, letting spell-damaged patients have a wand, delivering deadly Christmas gifts without realizing it, possibly assisting in an assassination thereby. Can you see a tag, Millisant?”
The furry woman leaned over, carefully not touching the plant. “I think it says ‘Bode’ on it.”
The older man sighed. “What a stupid way to go that would have been. Assassinated due to hospital incompetence in checking holiday presents.”
The others all nodded.
Frank glanced out the door. “B-brace for impact. H-healers incoming!”