Forgotten Memories

Y/N’s ears rang as the hat called Ravenclaw and she was blinded when the hat was taken off of her head. Blinking the stars from her eyes, she stood up and headed to the table second from the left to take a seat. The students at the table were sitting down politely clapping and quite a few students stood up to shake her hand. Y/N’s mind was racing, she couldn’t think straight. Her breathing was shaky and shallow, quick breaths were being taken every half second. Her eyes were darting all around and her pupils were dilated. It wasn’t the fact that she was sorted into Ravenclaw that had her nearing a panic attack; no, it was the information that the Sorting hat had revealed to her that made her whole world fall apart. Everything around her seemed to disappear, the people who looked at her with concern turned into blurry faces in the background. Y/N remembers feeling this way before; she remembers knowing the feeling so well, it would smile at her and greet her like an old friend every time they met. It confused her, why would she know what it felt like to have her whole world crash and burn in the blink of an eye? Her hyperventilating started escalating, the voices and noises around her all mixed together, nothing made sense, no one said anything that made sense, what is happening?

Y/N’s head snapped up and her eyes zeroed onto the person sitting next to her. They had put their hand on her shoulder and said something with an alarmed expression. Y/N hadn’t heard what they said. “Wh-what? I’m… sorry, I didn’t hear you. Please repeat yourself.” She stuttered out, trying to seem as composed as possible—even speaking was impressive, her current state of mind left no room for communication, yet she had spoken.

They sighed with a worried look and repeated what they had said, “Are you alright? Your breathing, it was… so ragged. You sounded as if you had just run a marathon, and your pupils, they’re dilated, most of your eye is just pupil. Merlin’s beard, what happened?” Their voice was calming and had a Scottish accent to it.

“I… I don’t know. One second, I was sitting on the stool with the Sorting hat on my head, and the next it felt like everything I knew was false, like my life has been a lie this entire time.” Y/N barely breathed out, taking quick breaths in between every other word. The person put their hand on Y/N’s back and rubbed it in a comforting manner.

“I know it’ll be hard, but I need you to take deeper and slower breaths.” They said, and so Y/N did. “That’s it, good job. Now I need you to name five things that you can see.”

Y/N’s eyes darted around her again, “I, I see a kid on the stool at the front, the Sorting hat, golden plates and goblets, the night sky, and you.”

The person gave Y/N an encouraging smile and began to speak again, “Wonderful, please name four things that you can touch.”

Y/N had started calming down a bit. She took a deep breath and started carefully feeling around her, “I can touch my hair, the wool of my robes, the wood of the table, and your hand.”  She said as she gently grabbed the person’s hand.

Their smile grew as she started slowing her breathing to a steadier pace, “You’re doing so well, keep going. Name three things you hear.”

Y/N felt more at ease with the person's comforting smile and caring touch. “I can hear your voice, the Sorting hat, and Professor McGonagall.”

“Amazing, what are two things you can smell?”

Y/N took a deep inhale through her nose, “I can smell the faintest hints of daisies, your perfume? And I can smell the burning fire of the candles.”

They laugh and confirm her theory, “Yes that is indeed my perfume. Lastly, name one thing you can taste.”

At this point Y/N had calmed to a point of a steady heart rate and steady breathing patterns. “I can still taste the chocolate frog I had on the train ride here.”

They beam at Y/N, “I am so proud of you. What’s your name? I’m Cho Chang.”

Y/N smiled back at Cho, albeit her smile was significantly smaller than the beaming girl’s smile. Y/N finally looked back to the front and paid attention to the names being called. Hermione’s name had been called before hers, Hermione ended up in Gryffindor.

“Potter, Harry!” McGonagall had called.

Y/N had heard everyone around her start whispering around her about Harry. If she had almost had a panic attack from anxiety of being sorted, she can’t imagine how Harry is feeling right now. Everyone around you whispering your name as your future is determined by a dusty old, patchwork hat. That is absolutely traumatising. Harry sat there with the hat on his head for a good bit of time, it looked as if he was talking to the hat, mouthing things and whispering. Which was weird to Y/N, considering how she just spoke to the hat with her mind rather than verbally speaking. After a while, the Sorting hat yelled out, ‘GRYFFINDOR!’

To be honest, Y/N was pretty disappointed that Harry wasn’t sorted into her house, but it made sense. It seems like she was destined to be alone, and Cho was just a quick glimpse of what she could have had if her fate wasn’t determined by the Sorting hat. The Gryffindor table was full of students in red robes who stood up and started screaming and clapping as Harry walked to where Hermione was sitting, along with Fred and George. Some students shook Harry’s hand with reverence as he passed them. Y/N assumed the respect just comes with being “The Boy Who Lived” but that’s just a guess.

Once everyone was sorted an old man in long robes stood up and walked to the podium at the front, right behind the stool. The old man started speaking, “Welcome!” he started, “Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!” The old man sat back down, and everyone clapped and cheered. Y/N assumed he was the headmaster, only the headmaster could receive huge applause after such a dumb speech.

A little bit of time passed as Y/N ate quietly. She paid no mind to anyone around her, and Cho was kind enough to offer her input on some things at Hogwarts. Turns out Cho is older than her by a year. Y/N took quick glances at Harry from time to time, mentally wishing him the best in Gryffindor. One of the times she looked at him, he was holding his scar and it looked as if he was saying ‘ouch’. Y/N looked in the direction he had just turned away from, a professor in a turban—Professor Quirrell, as she had learned from Cho—and a professor with chin length greasy black hair—Professor Snape, his name also introduced by Cho—were talking with each other, Quirrell’s turban facing Harry’s direction while Snape was looking straight into Harry’s eyes. At first glance, one might think the cause of pain in Harry’s scar was Snape, but Y/N knew better than that. Just because he looks like an awful person, doesn’t mean he would harm children so directly in public. Plus, she already had dirt on Quirrell that made her suspicious of him. That turban couldn’t have just been there for religious reasons, Quirrell was hiding something. How did she know that? The voice that came from beneath his turban at the Leaky Cauldron was obvious proof that turban wasn’t for religious practice at all.

A little bit later, Dumbledore stood up again. He started his start-of-term speech. “First-years should note that the forest in the grounds is forbidden to all students. And a few of our older pupils would do well to remember that as well.” Dumbledore glanced at the Weasley twins and Y/N giggled at the insinuation.

“I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used in between classes in the corridors.”

“Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madam Hooch. And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a most painful death”

Dumbledore’s whole third-floor corridor spiel confused everyone except the teachers at the High Table. What is in the third-floor corridor this year that would lead to a gruesome death?

Dumbledore cleared his throat and said, “And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song! Everybody may rise.” Dumbledore flicked his wand, and sparks flew out of it and into the sky, where words were displayed. “Everyone pick their favourite tune and off we go!”

The whole school began to sing along with the words, minus a few people who didn’t feel like singing it—Y/N being one of them.

“Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts, Teach us something please, Whether we be old and bald Or young with scabby knees, Our heads could do with filling With some interesting stuff, For now they’re bare and full of air, Dead flies and bits of fluff, So teach us things worth knowing, Bring back what we’ve forgot, Just do your best, we’ll do the rest, And learn until our brains all rot.”

The song was disturbing, in a way. ‘Learn until our brains rot’ who came up with that? The song finished and the student body quieted down once everyone finished their tunes. The Weasley twins—cheeky as they are—were singing slowly, like they were reciting a speech to a room full of toddlers. Dumbledore played into their antics and conducted their last lines, clapping loudly—he was one of the loudest people clapping—when the twins finished. Dumbledore said something about the beauty of music before telling the students to head off to bed.
“All right everyone; follow me,” A girl with long, curly hair said to the people in Ravenclaw, “welcome to Ravenclaw house, the house of wisdom and wit. Don’t get those two confused; wisdom and wit are two different meaning words. Wisdom shows experience, having wit shows quick mindedness. I am Penelope Clearwater, one of Ravenclaw’s prefects.”

Penelope led the Ravenclaws up quite a few flights of stairs and to an eagle door. “This is the door to the Ravenclaw common room; you will have to answer a riddle to enter.” She cleared her throat and knocked at the door.

The door asked, “I am easy to lift, but hard to throw. What am I?”

Penelope stood there for a little bit and scratched her chin, and then she answered. “You are a feather.” The door simply just closed its wingspan and opened up. Penelope stepped inside and everyone followed her. Y/N was awed at the eagle statue and astronomy related wallpaper in the Ravenclaw common room. Penelope led everyone up the stairs to the right as she said, “As we head up these stairs, there are a few things I want you first-years to note.” She said as the group of students reached the top. There was a statue of a woman and the entire first room of the common room was full of students standing and talking, as well as sitting on couches and stray chairs.

“The girls' dormitories are straight and to the right. The higher levels are dedicated to the older students, year sevens. The younger pupil’s dorms are lower, with first years being at the bottom of the staircase. The boys’ dormitories are straight to the left and the same rules are applied; lower years at the bottom, higher at the top. There are no protections against going to the opposite gender's dorms, but that’s because we expect all students of Ravenclaw to be intelligent and make smart choices, such as to not go into dorms you don’t belong in. With that, I bid you all goodnight.” Penelope concluded her speech with shooing everyone off to bed and heading down the stairs to her own dorm.

Y/N walked down the stairs herself and to the dorm marked as the first-year dormitories. There, she greeted the people that will be her roommates for the rest of the school year. Their names were Leanna Finley, Padma Patil, and Natalia Reyes. All of them had their own traits that made them distinctive from each other; Natalia had short, brown, curly hair and olive coloured skin, and her eyes were a lighter colour. Padma had long, dark hair, and her skin was a tawny brown colour. Her eyes were almond shaped and dark. Leanna was fair skinned, had freckles, dark eyes, and blonde shoulder-length hair.

“I call this bed!” Leanna yelled, her Irish accent getting thicker with her excitement.

“This one’s mine!” Natalia giggled as she flopped onto one of the beds closest to the door.

Padma just rolled her eyes at her roommates and sat herself onto the bed next to Leanna’s. Y/N just took the remaining bed and sighed out of relief. “My back is actually killing me.” She grunted as she adjusted herself on her bed.

Natalia looked at Y/N and scrunched her eyebrows, “What are you, an old man?” she laughed as she spoke. Y/N glared at her with amusement and sat up.

“Yeah okay, whatever you want to think.” Y/N giggled back at her.

“I’m exhausted, I’m going to sleep.” Padma groaned. All the girls nodded in agreement.

After changing, Y/N collapsed onto her bed and bundled up into the warm covers. A chorus of “Goodnight” was heard from all of the girls as they all closed their eyes and readied themselves for the first day of school.

“Happy Eighth birthday, Riddle.” Mrs. Rosehearts says monotonously. She glanced at Y/N and glared at her.

“Happy birthday older brother!” A younger Y/N said with a smile.

Y/N’s eyes widened as she watched from the mirror attached to the mantle of the fireplace. Looking at a smaller version of her was so strange; this version was so much smaller than she currently is. The Riddle she had seen in all her other dreams was about the age of twelve, but now he was smaller and looked so much more innocent.

“This year’s birthday cake is a low-sugar recipe made with nuts and lecithin-rich soy flour to improve your cerebral function.”  Riddle and… Y/N’s (?) Mother said. Y/N was surprised; why did she understand everything Mrs. Rosehearts said? She didn’t remember learning anything about biology or enough about scientific terms to know what her—other mother? —was saying. Now, Y/N had never thought this could happen, but what if this was her previous life? Or what if she dimension hopped, and she couldn’t remember how it happened? What if everything that she is remembering was something she actually learned in this dimension, information her brain retained and stored for long-term, but she couldn’t remember short-term? Y/N shook her head and held it as she felt a headache coming on, this was too much for her to handle, and she needed a break.

Besides being confused on why she understood so much, Y/N was genuinely disgusted on how policed Riddle’s diet seemed to be. How is one so okay with causing their child so much turmoil when it comes to dieting? Doesn’t Mrs. Rosehearts understand that this could trigger an eating disorder later in life? She seems to be smart, so why can’t she understand?

Y/N’s younger version looked at riddle with shimmering eyes. She looked at him with empathy. That pulled at Y/N’s heartstrings, her younger self experienced this pain and turmoil.

Riddle looked at Y/N, and then back at Mrs. Rosehearts. “Thank you. But, mom… Just once, I’d like to try one of those tarts covered with bright-red strawberries…”

Younger Y/N’s eyes widened at his words. A moment later, Mrs. Rosehearts face grew extremely red, and she started yelling. “Absolutely not! Those tarts are monstrously unhealthy. I might as well feed you poison!”

Y/N fumed from behind the mirror, she was feeding him poison. She was poisoning him with awful ideals and morals. Those children weren’t being treated right. Y/N was baffled and enraged; she couldn’t believe her younger self actually experienced this. The words being spoken by Mrs. Rosehearts all blended together as Y/N’s head was flooded with questions and angry thoughts.

There was a ripple and Y/N was presented with a new scene. The two Rosehearts children were sitting at the same dining table where Riddle’s birthday happened, sitting with stiff posture reading thick books while taking notes. A sudden noise of tapping on the window was heard through the room. Riddle and Y/N looked up and at each other before turning their attention to the window where the tapping was coming from. Y/N stood up and walked towards the window. Trey and Che’nya were standing outside knocking on the glass. Y/N opened the window to hear Trey exclaim, “Whoa, they heard us!” with a big grin on his face.

Che’nya chimed in and said “Hey, come play with us!” while waving and beaming at the two Rosehearts.

“Who are you?” Riddle asked in an accusatory tone.

“I’m Che’nya, and that’s Trey. Let’s all play croquet! Oh, but it’s LOTS of fun!” Che’nya basically screamed at the two inside the house, mainly directing his words to Riddle.

Riddle shook his head and tutted, guiding Y/N back to the books they were previously reading “We can’t. We’re supposed to be doing independent study, and we have a lot of homework to do.”

Che’nya rolled his eyes and replied to Riddle, “’Independent study’ means you pick what to do, right? My grandpa says play is a form of study!”

Trey also spoke, pleading with the children, “Just play with us for a little bit!”

Riddle caved. “O-okay… just a little, though!”

Blinking her eyes open, Y/N sat up and wiped her tired eyes. She woke up with a headache, her dreams were revealed to be memories, and it was all too much for Y/N to process. So, she just pushed the thought to the back of her mind for now. She stretched her arms above her head and got ready for the day, sliding the covers off of her body and getting out of bed, Y/N heads up the stairs to the washrooms and draws a bath. Shampoo and Conditioner were provided, as well as body wash. After washing up Y/N put her school robes on and put her hair in a low ponytail. Since school started, she saw no point in doing her hair up fancy, as the day would just be too eventful for her hair to stay neat. She does the rest of her getting ready routine and heads down to the Great Hall where she grabs breakfast, drinking pumpkin juice and eating toast, along with some other food items.

The bell chimes and signals for the first passing period of the day to begin. Y/N stands up and walks out of the Great Hall and to the first class of the day: Transfiguration with the Hufflepuffs.