PART TWENTY-FIVE:<br><br>“We’ve been seeing entirely too much of one another lately, my dear,” said Madam Pomfrey to Genevieve as she was conducted her into the hospital wing. Genevieve gave her a bewildered glance as she was led to a bed for an examination. Lupin stayed close by her the whole time.<br><br>Genevieve didn’t know what to think about this man who had been clinging to her side since he and the others had found her. On one hand, it was a little odd to have a total stranger treating her the way he did and looking at her the way he was -- she knew she must have meant the world to him, yet she had no recollection of it. On the other hand, it was strangely reassuring having him near her. From time to time, she’d feel his stare on her and the hairs on the back of her neck would stand up and a tingle would begin to tremble straight down her spine. <br><br>As Madam Pomfrey shined her wandlight into one of her ears and examined it closely, Genevieve’s mind wandered back to that dream she’d had right before she awoke to witness the murder of that haggard old crone. She imagined herself dancing beneath the moonlight with this man they called Lupin. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--><i> Try to remember</i><!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, she urged herself, trying to inspire a memory. She wanted to lean towards him to ask if they’d ever danced before, but the sharp poke the nurse gave her in her stomach jarred her from her contemplation.<br><br>“Does that hurt?” asked Madam Pomfrey.<br><br>“It does <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--><i> now</i><!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->,” muttered Genevieve, rubbing the new ache in her abdomen gingerly and glaring back at the nurse.<br><br>Lupin scowled at Madam Pomfrey. Snape, who was standing a few feet away next to Professor McGonagall, gave Genevieve a distinct look of approval. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--><i> The girl’s still got her spunk</i><!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->, he thought. <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--><i> That’s a good sign.</i><!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> <br><br>“Enough of this poking and prodding,” McGonagall said impatiently. “What’s your diagnosis, Poppy?”<br><br>“Well, she seems healthy enough,” Madam Pomfrey began. “All except the amnesia you mentioned, Minerva. The strongest of witches and wizards have adverse effects to such powerful curses as the Imperius and the Cruciatus, even when only exposed to them for short periods of time. And compounded by the fact that she had just come off of the very potent Draught of Living Death, she was in no shape to handle them, for however long the time period was. It actually surprises me that amnesia is the only thing we have to contend with.” She gave Genevieve a very sober look. “I’ll administer some of the Mandrake Restorative Draught straight away in order to hopefully get this girl recuperated as soon as possible.” She took out a vial of the potion and ordered Genevieve to drink it promptly.<br><br>Genevieve eyed the concoction with much trepidation. She’d been pretty flexible up until this point, allowing herself to be led blindly to the infirmary in the huge castle by three total strangers, where a stern nurse proceeded to examine her from head to foot, but drinking a vial of this suspicious-looking tonic was another story. It bubbled and was a nauseating color, not to mention the fact that it smelled like old socks. She scrunched up her nose and pushed it away.<br><br>“Drink it,” said Lupin to her in a soft voice. “It’ll help you. With any luck, it’ll help you get your memory back.”<br><br>Had these words come from any of the other people in the room, Genevieve probably would have scoffed at them and told them to drink the nasty potion themselves, but hearing Lupin say them was comforting. She found herself trusting him – believing him above the others. If he said it would be OK, for some reason, she could believe him and know that it would be. She held her nose and slowly gulped the sickening liquid down her throat. With a strained final swallow, she finished it off and made a face.<br><br>“Water!” she wheezed at Madam Pomfrey, who scurried away to fetch a glass for her.<br><br>“Good girl,” said McGonagall, relieved that she’d choked the draught down.<br><br>Lupin hugged her cautiously, not wanting to alarm her. He was sensitive to the fact that she was still unsure of everyone, but to his surprise she hugged him back. He pulled back after a moment and looked into her eyes.<br><br>“Everything will be fine,” he said soothingly, as he stroked her hair.<br><br>Madam Pomfrey returned with a tumbler of water and handed it to Genevieve. Then she directed a firm address at Lupin, Snape and McGonagall. “Don’t make me have to tell any one of you twice that this girl needs rest.” She shot a stiff glance at Lupin. “I recommend you leave her to relax while the draught does its work.”<br><br>“As you wish,” said McGonagall obediently. “I’ll inform Dumbledore of her condition. I’m sure he’ll want to see her, but I’ll advise him to wait a while.”<br><br>Snape nodded and said, “I’ll go with you.” He looked over at Lupin, who was still sitting next to Genevieve. “Remus, are you coming?”<br><br>“Wild horses couldn’t drag me out of here,” he replied, looking at both Snape and Madam Pomfrey in a challenging manner.<br><br>“Fine,” said Madam Pomfrey haughtily, “but if you get that girl riled up, you’ll regret ever setting foot in my infirmary!”<br><br>Lupin knew she meant every word she said. He nodded in agreement and she left reluctantly after Snape and McGonagall.<br><br>“Thank you for staying,” said Genevieve quietly, once they were alone. “I was a little scared of staying here by myself.”<br><br>“Like I said before, wild horses couldn’t have dragged me away.” He squeezed her hand tenderly. <br><br>“This must be really strange for you,” she started.<br><br>“Strange for <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--><i> me</i><!--EZCODE ITALIC END-->?” he asked, baffled. “I’d wager it’s far stranger for you, being without your memory. I couldn’t even begin to imagine what that’s like!”<br><br>“I just mean it must be a little odd for you that I’m not familiar with you at all. We were evidently … well, close.” She looked down at his hand, which was still clutching her own. His other hand was resting on her knee.<br><br>“Does it bother you?” he asked, suddenly very aware that maybe his actions were a little overwhelming for her. He let go of her hand and backed away a bit.<br><br>“Actually,” she began to say, “it <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--><i> doesn’t</i><!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> bother me. Isn’t that unusual? You’d think it would, but for some reason it doesn’t.” She grabbed both of his hands and brought them to her face. “I <!--EZCODE ITALIC START--><i> want</i><!--EZCODE ITALIC END--> you to touch me.”<br><br>His hands caressed her face, tracing over her features adoringly. He skimmed his fingers lightly across her lips as if to beg her for an invitation to taste them. She sighed at the sensation and that was invitation enough for him. He slowly moved in close, still cautious not to upset her if she had any apprehension about going any further. If there was any uneasiness on her part, it was well disguised. She moved in closer as well, and they met in a slow, sweet kiss. She parted her mouth, enticing him to deepen their kiss. Oh, dulcet rapture, being in his embrace, having his hands touch her, his mouth taste her. Why hadn’t she requested those people leave before, so that she could have discovered this ecstasy earlier?<br><br>Much to her dismay, Lupin began to withdraw. “Are you remembering anything?” he asked her, sure that she must have been, if she was so willing to be so intimate with him.<br><br>“No,” Genevieve admitted sheepishly, her cheeks now flushing. She realized what he was thinking. “But there is one thing I should mention. There’s this dream I had. You were in it. It was the only thing I remember before …” her voice trailed away. Talking about the gruesome scene was still very disturbing for her. <br><br>“Before that murder you saw, right?” he asked cautiously.<br><br>She nodded.<br><br>“What was the dream about?” he inquired.<br><br>“You and I danced,” she said with a half-smile. “Have we ever danced before?” she asked him suddenly, remembering wanting to previously. “It seemed so familiar when I dreamt it.”<br><br>“We have,” Lupin said, remembering the night they’d danced in the enchanted dining room very vividly. He smiled broadly at the recollection.<br><br>“Were we underneath a moonlit sky?” she asked hopefully.<br><br>“I’m afraid not,” he said forlornly. He realized that her dream was a sort of mismatched tangle of memories – nothing concrete, but it did give him a glimmer of hope. He was in the dream, as was the moon. She was definitely correlating and gathering the significance of the two, if not in her conscious mind, then in her subconscious. “What else was there in the dream?”<br><br>“A tree,” she said matter-of-factly. “A huge tree that grabbed me and tied me up in its boughs.” She furrowed her brow as she thought of the violent tree.<br><br>The glimmer of hope was suddenly gleaming brighter. He chuckled softly, as he understood that the tree in her dream was none other that the infamous Whomping Willow.<br><br>“Does all of this make any sense to you?” she asked him, begging for some enlightenment.<br><br>“A little bit,” he laughed. “Your slate hasn’t been completely wiped clean,” he said as he kissed her forehead. He held her closely and stroked her hair again. “Why don’t you get some rest? I’ll stay here with you while you sleep and when you wake, we’ll reminisce. I’m sure you’ll be recalling all of those things you’ve forgotten very soon.” <p><center><img src=
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