A/N: Don't own any of this. Just an idea I got after listening to a few songs. Just writing it as I go along. Enjoy.

She was running again, away from all the screams and bodies but it seemed the farther she ran, the more of these she encountered. She tripped and fell, her face tingling in dull pain as she turned over on her back. She tried to stand again but a boot was shoved into her throat. Her eyes traveled up the legs of her assailant and the rest of their body until they landed on the face.

He had platinum blond hair and bright gray eyes. His expression was one of loathing and smugness. "Quite the compromising position you're in here." he said, his voice dripping with malice. "But, no matter. You shall not remember it either way." He held a stick in his right hand and was pointing it directly at her. His face softened for a moment and despite her gasping for air, she felt so confused.

"I'm sorry." was all he said before a rush of noise filled her ears and a bright green light clouded her vision and everything went black.

She sat straight up in her bed, sweat drenching her entire body. Her breathing was heavy as she glanced over at her alarm clock and noticed the time was 6a.m. The first rays of morning were beginning to peak through her bedroom. She ran a hand through her wild hair and tried to steady her breathing. She'd been having the same nightmare and other similar ones for the past six months, ever since her first day working at Phoenix Unlimited in New York City. No one knew about her dreams, and she wanted to keep it that way.

After a few more moments of trying to compose herself, she finally rose from the bed and went into the bathroom to shower. She scrubbed hard at her skin as she always did when she showered after waking up from her nightmares. The sun was halfway up when she finished getting dressed for work. There was no time for breakfast and besides, she doubted her stomach could handle it after the dream she'd had.

The walk to her job was relatively short, it being that it was a five minute walk from her apartment to the Phoenix Unlimited tower. It was tall and made almost entirely of glass and steel, giving the impression that it was always shimmering. It made her smile slightly as she walked inside.

"Good morning, and welcome to Phoenix Unlimited. The current temperature outside is 60 degrees with a 20% chance of rain and a high of 85 degrees. Please enjoy your day." The automated system that was programmed to welcome and give a weather report was now set to go off every 30 minutes throughout the day.

Despite the early hour, there were many people in the lobby of Phoenix Unlimited getting into the many elevators to their designated floors. She stepped into a relatively empty one and pressed the button that would take her to the 37th floor where all the assistants for logistics management, marketing, and CEO were stationed. Her desk was all the way at the back of the somewhat crowded room that contained about ten desks.

"Good morning, Jean." A coworker whose name she never could place said to her as she walked over to the coffee machine.

"You're here early, Ms. Black." Someone else observed as she got settled in at her desk.

"Yeah, well, I just wanted to get a head start on all the paperwork and appointments so it doesn't get too bad later. I'm sure Mr. Bradley will be grateful. " Jean said with a smile. Her eyes wandered over to the small mirror she always kept beside her desk. She very quickly assessed her appearance.

Her hair was in a slightly haphazard ponytail and she wasn't wearing as much makeup as she usually wore today. There were still dark circles under her eyes and she felt like she hadn't slept a single hour the previous night. If the nightmares continued, she was sure she would never be able to sleep again.

"She's not here at the moment. She must have only just left." A man with black, messy hair and emerald eyes said as he walked around Jean's apartment.

"Bit plain, isn't it? Not like her." His companion, a taller man with fire red hair and hazel eyes replied as his eyes wandered around the scantily furnished apartment.

The walls were stark white and there were no decorations or pictures on them. All that could be seen in the living room was a sofa, television, and lamp. There was a small table off to the side closest to the kitchen. Her bedroom only contained her bed and a lamp and her medium walk-in closet didn't appear to have nearly as much as it should inside.

The tall man with black hair picked up a piece of mail he saw on the counter in the kitchen and read out loud the name on it. "Jean Black. Is that what she's calling herself?"

The other man shrugged and sat down on the sofa. "That's how they set her up here. Maybe they wanted to remember as little as possible. Memory charms aren't always permanent, depending on the intent of the person that cast it."

The black haired man looked at his friend, a slightly surprised look on his face. "True, but we still don't even know who cast the oblivion charm on her to begin with. There was so much going on."

Silence engulfed the apartment for the first time since the two men had entered Jean's apartment. They were both caught up in their own thoughts before either spoke again.

"Should we take action tonight?" The red haired man asked, his voice sounding cautious.

His companion shook his head. "I don't think we should. At least not now. We should see how she's living her life. We'll give her a week and have constant surveillance on her. She's gotten along this long without our help. She'll be fine."

"Harry, it's been nearly 9 months since she's been...herself. We're lucky St. Mungo's was able to rehab her enough in those 3 months to get her functioning this normally. I want my friend back."

"I know, Ron." Harry replied, his voice taking on a tone of sadness. "I know. But, trust me. We'll do it soon. If we do it now she could get overwhelmed and that...wouldn't do us any good."

Ron sighed in response and ran a hand through his hair, keeping his eyes closed. "What if she's happier? What if we just shouldn't even-"

"Ron, we won't know any of that until we tell her. She may seem happy right now, but I know she isn't. Memory or not, she probably has nightmares of the war and nothing to explain them. If she were...herself...I think she would want us to tell her." Harry said as he stared out of the window.

"Is there any way to get her memory back?"

His question was met with silence for a few moments before Harry was able to answer. "I don't know. You remember what happened with Lockhart. There's no telling, honestly. But telling her is...if we tell her, something might trigger, and that could either be good or bad."