[HP] Three thousand days of innocence

"S-dissociative fugue?" Ginny repeated. "No, I'm afraid I haven't."

"It used to be called psychogenic fugue, but that term is no longer used." Dr. Walcott looked sadly at Draco, then at Ginny with his tired brown eyes. "People with dissociative fugue experience psychological trauma, not physical trauma; they're forced to re-live a traumatic experience, or have an intense, emotionally draining event; that sort of thing. That kind of person craves To free themselves from extreme pain and anxiety, they will try to distance themselves from the trauma as much as possible. To do this, the brain basically reboots itself."

"What does that mean?" Ginny asked, frowning.

"Dissociative fugue is characterized by being far away from home and familiar places. A person enters a fugue state and memories are suppressed; he leaves his original place and never looks back; he pretends to be someone else. These are protective of the patient A defense mechanism against trauma. A fugue state can last from a few days to a few months, after which it is over with no recollection. From the time we found Ben, I would dare say he has been fugue for months .”

"My God," Ginny said softly.It made sense - Nearly Headless Nick had seen him in June, and Draco hadn't been to the hospital in London until November...

Mrs Walcott came in with a tray of chocolate biscuits.She put the biscuit on the little coffee table between them and sat down again, but no one took it.Draco's eyes were lifeless, and the hand Ginny held was limp.She could feel his pulse on his wrist.

"I can't identify myself," he said hoarsely, avoiding their eyes. "So the hospital staff did it for me. They checked my clothes for tags, but they were handmade and had no obvious markings. I had nothing in my pocket. Before the emergency room nurse found me, No one remembers seeing me, so no one knows where I come from. Searches of dental records or fingerprints have been fruitless. The only thing left to do is put my picture on the TV news and hope someone will recognize me."

"You don't remember anything?" Ginny said softly.The idea is puzzling.What would she do if she had no memory of anything from the past?

"It's not that I don't remember anything, it's just that I don't remember anything that would help us find his family or friends," Dr Walcott said. "He can recall four things—right, Ben?"

Draco nodded stiffly. "I speak French and Italian fluently," he said. "I still remember a train station, wearing greaves, and a huge white bird."

"You may vaguely remember seeing Ben on the BBC evening news," said Dr Walcott. "He was showing up for several nights in a row, and we left the hospital phone number in case anyone could provide information. In the meantime, while we waited for news, we worked with Ben to help him regain some memory - any memory - to help He easily returned to his normal life."

"Something weird I can't do or remember," Draco said, covering his face with his hands. “I don’t know how to use the TV or the phone, and I don’t remember major events—like the death of Princess Diana, the fall of the Berlin Wall, or even the latest movies.” He grunted in pain. "Can't remember birthdays, friends, school, my favorite color. I don't know why I'm fluent in two foreign languages."

"Actually, we tried to send messages to France and Italy," said Dr. Walcott, rocking slightly in his seat. "His accent is so pure and his knowledge of colloquialism is so comprehensive, we think English may not be his mother tongue."

"The only mystery we have solved is his memory of the train station," Mrs Walcott said. "I showed him a lot of pictures of domestic train stations and he recognized King's Cross as the one he remembered."

Ginny swallowed.Platform nine and three quarters...

"We've got everything covered," Dr Walcott said. "We were confident that someone would see Ben on the news and recognize him - an old classmate, a sibling, someone would come forward and recognize him. There were hundreds of phone calls, all claiming to know who he was. "

"Someone must know him?" said Ginny, who already knew the answer.

"They were carefully screened and some were allowed to meet him," Dr Walcott said. "We set up a small room in the hospital and had them meet him in twos and threes - most of them just took one look at him, realized he wasn't their brother or friend or anything, and left quickly. ...some people insisted that he was who they thought he was, but by then, his story had gained national attention, so we filtered out those who just wanted a few minutes of fame." The doctor sighed, looking sadly at his wife. "A few even provided dental records for comparison, but—"

"It doesn't match," Draco said, with a distinct tremor in his voice.Ginny looked at him, noticing that his eyes were brighter than usual.She squeezed his hand, but he still didn't want to look at her.

"We're trying to find medical records that match the old scars on his body," Dr. Walcott said softly, looking at Draco lovingly. "Ben has a long, thin scar that runs from his right collarbone to his left hipbone, and he has badly burned his left upper arm with damaged skin. The injuries looked professionally treated, so we thought there would be a record. But again It's nothing."

"Ben had been in hospital with us for six months at that point, no one knew his identity, we needed to do something, he couldn't be stuck in hospital for the rest of his life on NHS money."

"How did you get the name Ben Hamilton?" Ginny asked Draco.

"Not long after he arrived, one of the orderlies started calling him Benjamin," Dr. Walcott explained when Draco didn't answer. "There was a guy she met in college who looked like him, called Benjamin. Eventually, we all started calling him that. The last name Hamilton comes from a character in East of Eden, which a doctor lent to Ben. book of."

"So, like I said before, Ben spent six months in the hospital unrecognized," the doctor continued. "It's clear he can't stay indefinitely and it's not just for financial reasons. Our hospital specifically has a petition to Parliament to be treated like other migrants who come to our country and want citizenship. We wanted him to be naturalized. Two months later the petition was passed, giving him special leave. My wife and I voluntarily paid the fee and Ben became a British citizen on 7 July."

"But—you told me it was your birthday."

"Yeah, I made it my birthday," Draco said, finally meeting her eyes.His eyes were full of anxiety, melancholy and deep depression. "I think it's a good fit."

"Yes." Ginny murmured.

"Ben lives with us," Mrs. Walcott said, smiling at Draco; he smiled back at her. "We did everything we could to help him start a productive and normal life."

"He showed an interest in cooking almost immediately," Dr Walcott said. "So I spoke to my old friend from college, Samuel Grayson, who I knew had a restaurant in London and we got Ben a job as an assembly line chef."

"That's when I went to France and Italy," Draco said. "Learn more about cooking. I don't want to go to culinary school because I already owe the Walcotts a lot—"

"We'd be happy to pay you, dear Ben," said Mrs. Walcott, with tears in her eyes. "We'd do anything for you." Draco smiled brighter.

"When I got back, Peter and Lucy introduced me to their nephew John, who rented a flat with Simon in London and needed a third roommate," Draco said. "That's all I've ever known about life."

"But I've never heard of memory loss being permanent," Ginny said to Dr. Walcott. "Isn't Ben going to think about it again?"

"That was our original wish," agreed Dr. Walcott. "In most cases, yes, with dissociative fugue, with time and treatment, the patient is able to regain most or all of the memories that preceded the fugue state. But because it's been eight years, Ben can't Can't think of anything except his—"

"King's Cross, Greaves, White Bird," Draco recited.It sounds like he says that a lot.

"Yes." The doctor nodded. "Other than those three things, he can't remember anything - so, sadly, he seems to be one of the few who never regained his memory."

Ginny's mind was racing at a thousand miles an hour, trying to figure out what she had just learned.He doesn't remember the war, or his part in it.do not remember.She was suddenly and acutely aware of how many memories she had of her own life: Bill helping her ride her first broom; her mother telling her fairy tales before she went to bed; Raco's childhood was completely gone, along with Crabbe and Goyle, Pansy Parkinson and Blaise Zabini, Snape, Malfoy Manor, his parents... as if these things It never happened, as if he had fallen entirely from the sky, barefoot, and alone on the snow-covered streets of London.

"There," said Mrs Walcott. "Now we're done spoiling it—" the others chuckled softly—"let's go to the Lane for lunch, shall we?"

Brighton was still as beautiful as Ginny remembered, but she didn't care.The Walcotts had been chatting, trying to keep Ginny with them, but Draco seemed to be sinking into the abyss of self-loathing and depression, as he had barely spoken a word all day.After lunch, they wandered the Lane for a few hours, then bought tickets to the Royal Pavilion and toured the ornate rooms and corridors.Ginny bought little presents for Luna, Ron and Hermione in the gift shop, and when they went to the pier, she ate her first Brighton candy in 20 years.

The weather all afternoon was very cooperative with them, clear skies with no clouds to block the sun.When they got home, Mrs. Walcott cooked them a nice dinner when they got home that night, and the four of them played some Muggle games that Ginny had never heard of: Monopoly and Scrabble.Draco had let them all lose badly, and when he took the last of Ginny's fortune with a smile, she thought he might have recovered from his earlier anxiety.

That night, however, as Ginny brushed her teeth and got ready for bed, she couldn't help thinking about her case.Draco was now wanted for assault and murder, and who knew what other trumped-up charges - and he knew nothing about war.How was he going to stand trial, accept or deny guilt for things he didn't even remember?What would become of him in the hands of the Wizengamot and the ruthless wizarding public?

When she came back, she found Draco already lying on a single bed in the guest room, with his back to her. "Ben," she said.

"Good night, Ginny," he murmured.

She felt very depressed.Ginny made up her mind, and instead of going to her own bed, she climbed onto his bed and hugged his broad back tightly.His body was like a furnace, emitting heat.

"Hey," she said softly. "I know you must be having a hard time today—"

"is it?"

There was a long silence.Ginny wished he would talk again, because she really didn't know what to say.

He turned to face her at last, his gray eyes silvery in the moonlight. "My first memory," he said hoarsely, "was looking for food in the trash. I was cold, confused and alone..." He looked away. "They -- tried everything to jog my memory. I was hypnotized, anesthetized and nearly killed -- but I couldn't remember anything. I couldn't remember anything."

Ginny's lips trembled, her eyes filled with tears, and she hugged him as tightly as she could. "I'm sorry," she said softly. "I'm very sorry."

"I remember a stupid—damn bird," he choked out. "But I don't remember my mother?"

He hugged her and buried his face in her shoulder.His silent tears soaked her shirt, and she drifted off to sleep.