(Please apply to all future chapters because I am hopelessly lazy) Disclaimer: If you recognize it, it belongs to the lovely JK Rowling. Anything else belongs to me. There is no profit being made from this work.

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February 6, 1980

In a sterile room bathed in the cold light of a February morning, a young woman opened her eyes. The light burned, so she snapped them shut again, but in the sweet relief of darkness, she became aware of an uncomfortable sensation in her throat. Gagging and coughing, she pulled a plastic tube from her throat. As she stared down as the object she had extracted from her esophagus with horror, she became aware of her surroundings.

She was on a narrow bed with crisp white sheets and side rails, and there were some sort of electronic screen with flashing lights that were beeping away beside her.

Where was she? What was this place?

"H-" She tried to call for help, but her voice didn't seem to be working.

Frantic now, she tried to push herself from the bed, but was met with resistance from her hand. She hurriedly ripped the strange needles out and had just managed to sit upright when a trio of people came rushing into the room.

"There there, dear," crooned one of the people. She was a woman with salt and pepper hair and kind blue eyes. "Just relax now. Don't want to strain ourselves, do we now?"

Who are you? The young woman wanted to ask. Where am I?

She opened and closed her mouth, only a croaking sound coming out, and her eyes darted back and forth between the trio of women in pastel colored outfits forcing her back into the bed.

No! She thought. She didn't want to get back into bed. She wanted to get out of there!

"Miss, you need to relax now," one of the other women spoke sternly.

"Now you just take a little rest," the first woman spoke again. "And you'll feel better when you wake up."

She felt something poking into arm, and everything began to fade to blurry darkness.

.

The next time she opened her eyes it felt more natural, like waking from a quick nap. Before she even had a chance to react, a straw was shoved between her lips. Quickly realizing what was happening, she sucked greedily at the plastic tube, draining the cup of water in seconds.

"There now, missy, don't want to make yourself sick," came a smooth voice from her bedside.

There was a man in a white cloak - no coat, her brain corrected - sitting beside her, holding the now empty water cup in his large hands.

"Feeling better now?" He asked. His voice was deep and rumbling, and she instantly felt safe.

She nodded. "Yes," she croaked out. Her voice seemed to be working better now. "Where am I?"

"Well, missy, you're in the hospital - Western General in Edinburgh."

She looked around at the spotless room. The walls were a muted shade of green, everything else in sight was white except for the dark blue shirt and trousers set the man at her bedside wore and his dark, dark skin. Was this a hospital? Something wasn't right. This wasn't like any hospital she had ever been in, but when she thought harder about it, she realized she couldn't remember ever being in a hospital at all. In fact, she couldn't remember much of anything.

"What happened? What am I doing here?" She was beginning to panic, and as she felt her heart begin to pound in her throat, a beeping coming from her left picked up pace. Startled, she looked at the strange contraption making the noise. It seemed to be tracking her heartbeat. How odd.

"We were hoping you could tell us. Young couple picked you up on the side of the road about a month ago and brought you here. This is the first time you've been conscious since they pulled you out of the divider."

A month? She had been unconscious for a month? But why? And why couldn't she remember?

"But I can't remember anything," she said dejectedly. She felt like she had failed, being unable to recall what had happened to her.

"Don't worry missy, I'm sure it'll all come back in no time. For now, you just rest. I'll have a nurse bring up the clothes you were wearing when they found you - maybe that'll jog your memory," he got up to leave, but then paused, as if remembering something. "And I'll be back this afternoon. There are a few more things we should discuss concerning your health."

She nodded absently, leaning back against the pillows. She was exhausted, but found herself unwilling to sleep. She had been asleep for so long - even if she couldn't remember it, her body could feel it. She felt as if she existed only in that moment, in that hospital bed. She had no past, and could see no future. She let her head turn to the side, gazing out the window at the bleak view of streets covered in dirty snow and people hunched inward from the cold. A single tear fell down her cheek. She felt so alone.

Some time later, the nurse with the salt and pepper hair came bustling into her room, a plastic tub in her arms. She placed the tub on the bed and settled herself in the chair.

"How're you feeling dearie?" She asked kindly, her blue eyes sparkling. "I'm Nurse Begbie, by the way."

"I'm feeling alright." It wasn't a lie. Physically, she felt just fine. "It's nice to meet you Nurse Begbie." She didn't introduce herself; after all, she didn't even know her own name.

"Well, dearie, I've got the things you had on you when you were brought in. Would you like to take a look?"

She eyed the bin warily. Would this tell her what she had forgotten?

"Yes," she replied with a definitive nod of her head.

For the most part, the contents of the bin were wholly disappointing. There was a pair of expensive looking boots in a scaly leather neither she or the nurse recognized, a wool coat, a jumper, and a pair of trousers. There was nothing in any of the pockets. It was the items in the little plastic bag, kept separate from everything else however, that gave her pause.

First, there was a ring. It wasn't just an ordinary ring; it was ornately carved silver with a trio of diamonds. There was something to the style of it, and the pattern of wear on the bezel that indicated it was generations old. It was an engagement ring, and a precious one at that. Cautiously, as if she were afraid it were cursed, she slipped it onto her third finger on her left hand; it was a perfect fit. So she was engaged. She kept the ring on.

Second, and far more precious if only for the secrets it revealed and hinted at, was a note scrawled on a piece of paper in a looping, feminine script.

Marlene -

I've taken your man out to help me pick gifts for the other boys. He just looked so bored when I stopped by - you know how Sirius gets when he's stuck in the flat for too long. He says he loves you. Don't worry, I'll have him back soon.

xx Lily

She gasped. Marlene.

"My name is Marlene," she said with certainty, meeting Nurse Begbie's blue eyes with her own chocolate brown. "I can feel it."

.

She had a name. She had a name! It was Marlene. And it felt wonderful. She would never take having a name for granted ever again - not that she could explicitly remember ever taking it for granted, but that didn't watter. It was the most magnificent feeling she could possibly imagine.

And to make her mood glow even brighter, somewhere, she had a Sirius. There was a Sirius, and they lived together, but he didn't like to be stuck inside for too long. They were in love, and his ring was on her finger. Somewhere, somebody knew who she was, and they loved her for it.

She spun the ring on her finger, smiling.

"Well hello there, Miss Marlene. Somebody looks happy." It was the doctor with the deep voice and dark skin that made her feel safe.

"I am," she replied sincerely. "I have a name!

"So you do. Well, Marlene, I'm pleased to make your acquaintance," he smiled and held out his hand. "Doctor Fletcher at your service."

She shook his hand firmly, still with her silly-stupid grin painted on her face.

"So, Marlene," she sighed as he spoke. She loved hearing her name. "We've got a couple of things to discuss."

She nodded her head, causing her freshly-washed blonde hair to shimmer.

"Well, you'll be happy to know that all those tests and scans we've put you today had a purpose." She was happy; they had been endlessly tedious. "As far as we can tell, you're in perfect health. Not even any residual issues from being in a coma for twenty-five days, which is very remarkable. You're something of a miracle, little missy. "

She sighed happily. She felt perfect, but the nurses had warned her that there could be problems, especially with her brain.

"We still don't know what caused the coma, or why you seem to be missing your memory, but we're working on it. Sometimes, things like this happen and they can't be explained, and one day you might wake up with all your memories back." He smiled reassuringly.

She grinned wistfully back at him. She wanted her memories back. She was happy that she had a name and a Sirius, but she wanted more. Who was she really? She had no idea, but she was sure she would be impossibly happier if she knew.

"And now comes the big news." He took her hand. "Miss Marlene, you're about eight weeks pregnant."

Marlene felt the sudden urge to clean out her ears.

"I'm sorry, I just..." She paused. She had only gotten a name that morning, and now she was getting a baby? "What?"

Doctor Fletcher patted her hand soothingly.

"You're going to have a baby, Marlene. Now I know this is a lot to take in, but you have options..."

But Marlene was no longer listening. A baby? A BABY?! She couldn't do this. She didn't even know how old she was! She didn't know where she lived, or what her last name was, or how she'd ended up in the hospital. How could she take care of a baby? Her breath started to come in gasps, and her vision blurred at the edges. She couldn't get enough oxygen. Everything was spinning...

"Miss Marlene? Marlene?" The Doctor's worried voice did nothing to calm her.

"I - I -" She gasped. "I can't - can't do this."

"Marlene!" A sharp voice immediately drew her attention. It was Nurse Begbie. When had she gotten there? "Marlene, you need to calm down now. Can you take a deep breath?"

The Nurse placed her warm hands on Marlene's narrow shoulders, forcing eye contact.

"Take a deep breath, dear. Breath with me," she ordered, though her voice was soft. "In. Out. In. Out. Come on."

And Marlene did. In. Out. She could do this. It was okay. It was all going to be okay...and she felt her heart rate slow, and her hands stopped shaking, and she found there was plenty of oxygen to be had.

"That's a good girl," Nurse Begbie smoothed Marlene's hair back from her now damp forehead. "Feeling better now?"

She nodded, not quite trusting herself to talk. The nurse made to move back, but Marlene grabbed her and with crushing strength, keeping the older woman near.

"What do I do now?"

.

February 7, 1980

The morning of the following day, Marlene sat patiently waiting to receive something called an "ultrasound." Doctor Fletcher had told her that there was a good chance her memories would return soon, seeing as she had only woken up the day before. If they did, she could make her decision about whether to keep the baby or not based upon that. If she didn't get her memories back...things would be more complicated. No one knew what would happen yet.

The ultrasound technician entered the room with a smile on her pretty face. She was young, though not as young as Marlene - not that she knew her age, exactly.

"Hello, I'm Doctor Sanders," she said gently. "Now lets take a look at your little one, shall we?"

Marlene didn't answer. She wasn't sure if she could speak. This was all far too much, far too quickly. Doctor Sanders spread a cold gel on her stomach, but she barely reacted, too caught up in her thoughts.

She was staring intently at the opposite wall, letting the doctor do her work, when she heard it. At first the sound didn't even register, it was just another thing on the long list of items she was choosing not to think about, but slowly, the fluttering sound that filled the quiet room drew her attention.

"Is...Is that...?" She was at a loss for words and comprehension dawned.

"That's your baby's heartbeat, Marlene," Doctor Sanders said encouragingly, smiling brilliantly.

"Oh," Marlene gasped. "Oh my."

She felt something warm on her cheek, and bringing her hand up she was surprised to find her face streaked with wetness. She was crying. She had no idea who she was or what her future held, but she wasn't alone. There was a life inside her, and it had a heartbeat that could fill an entire room with sound.

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February 14, 1980

A week later, Marlene moved into the spare bedroom in the modest, but comfortable home of Nurse Begbie - or Fiona, as she had insisted she be called. Fiona's youngest son had moved out to attend a university in America the year prior, and the matronly nurse seemed thrilled to have another young person to look after.

"Only temporary dear", Fiona had assured her as they drove through the suburbs of Edinburgh on their way from the hospital. "Your memories will come back, and we'll have you back to that Sirius of yours in no time."

The woman's kind words had filled Marlene with slight reassurance, but as the first week out of the hospital turned into a month, and one month turned into four, she couldn't help the confusion and melancholy that seemed to have settled in her bones. It was like someone had gone through her mind and weeded it like a flower bed. She knew English, quite a bit of Latin, and even some French, she had discovered. Most things were as easy as breathing, but others gave her pause. The first time she had ridden in an automobile, she was overcome with fear as if she had never done so in her life. And when she discovered Fiona's television, she had needed to ask her hostess what is was and how it worked. When asked if she knew how to cook, she promptly replied that yes, she did, without even needing to consider it, but when she entered the kitchen, she found herself entirely unfamiliar with the tools and appliances, but unable to put her finger on what exactly was lacking.

The most disconcerting part of all was that she felt as if her personality had been stripped bare. She was Marlene, but she could feel that she was only herself unshaped by the many experiences of the life she could not recall. She felt like a ghost - only the faintest outline, the bare bones of who she should be. She was a colorless imitation of a person, lacking the vibrancy of a personal history.

All she had was her position bagging groceries at a market down the road and the little life growing inside of her. But very soon that life would be a person - a baby with no more history than Marlene. What did she - only a phantom masquerading as a person - have to offer to a child who she would be expected to help grow, and learn, and become when she had done none of those things herself? Her life would begin with her child's, she supposed. They would become people together.

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October 21, 1980

Marlene sat tucked into the window seat, enjoying the afternoon sunshine beating through the glass and warming her face and making her hair shine golden. When she got a moment of peace - which wasn't often these days - it was one of her favorite places to pass the time. She liked watching all the people - mostly Fiona's neighbors who she had become familiar with over the past several months - going about their little lives. She envied them. They all seemed to have so much life. They had so many stories to tell, so many relationships with the people around them, so many rich memories stored in their lucky heads. But Marlene felt as if her own mind, her own identity was as much of a blank slate as her baby daughter's.

A baby daughter that seemed to be awakening from her nap, if the cries from the upstairs floor were anything to go off of.

Smiling wryly to herself at the strength of her child's lungs - maybe she got that from her father? - Marlene disentangled herself from her nest of blankets and pillows, deposited her empty teacup in the kitchen sink, and went upstairs to retrieve the little girl.

Baby, darling, sweetheart, love, angel, as she referred to her child, was howling something awful by the time Marlene made it upstairs and into the little bedroom that was rather cramped even with a single bed, nightstand, crib, and little dresser being its only contents. Her daughter slept well and often, thank goodness, and cried little, thank heavens, but when she decided to make some noise - well, it was certainly impressive.

"Shhh," Marlene cooed, scooping up the wailing infant. "Mum's here. It's alright, angel."

She rocked the little girl back and forth, whispering sweet nothings into her ear, and the cries subsided rather quickly. Sighing, Marlene gazed down into her daughter's now calm and inquisitive face. At ten weeks old, born after thirteen grueling hours on the eleventh of August, her little one was surely the loveliest thing she had ever seen. With dark brown, almost black hair and eyes that were quickly fading from blue to gray, the little girl looked nothing like her blonde-haired, brown-eyed, freckled mother, but she was beautiful. Sometimes Marlene thought she might be biased towards her darling angel, but did it really matter? She thought her daughter was absolutely perfect, and that was the most important thing.

Noticing the unfortunate smell lingering in the air, Marlene sighed and set about changing the nappy. That was certainly one part of motherhood she could do without. Just as she was finishing up, she heard the familiar sound of the door opening downstairs and Fiona bustling around in the kitchen.

"Sounds like Auntie Fiona's home!" She exclaimed excitedly before pressing a kiss to her daughter's soft stomach, inhaling her pleasing baby scent.

She scooped up the little girl, earning an excited coo in response, and made her way downstairs.

"Have a good shift, Fiona?" She said by way of greeting as she entered the kitchen where the older woman was enjoying a glass of the fresh lemonade Marlene had made that morning.

"Always dear, always," Fiona replied. She had an unfailing positive nature. Even if she lost a patient - or more - it was always a good shift. When Marlene had asked her why it was "always" good, the kind nurse had replied that no matter what loss she witnessed in the hospital, there was always life and joy as well.

"Good. How's this batch?" Marlene inquired, nodding her head towards the glass of lemonade. "I added less sugar this time, and a little mint."

"I think you've got it down. This is the best yet," Fiona said warmly before taking another sip and letting out a tired sigh.

Her baby started to fuss and root into Marlene's chest, so she unbutton her blouse and shifted aside her bra, and the little girl began to suckle happily.

Fiona smiled fondly at the picture they made, Marlene looking down adoringly and stroking her daughter's dark hair.

"So does the little love have a name yet?" The older woman asked Marlene goodnaturedly.

It was a daily ritual, asking if Marlene had named her daughter. Her doctors and nurses had been thoroughly perplexed when Marlene had put down her daughter's name as "Jane" on her birth certificate and firmly informed them that she would be changing it just as soon as she got her memories back. But her daughter had been born in August, and it was now mid-October, and she had still not decided on a name. Marlene felt so lost, so empty without any sort of history to call her own, and because of this she had become overwhelmingly attached to giving her daughter a family name, or at least one that had some significance to the little girl's heritage. But Marlene had woken up in the hospital for the first time eight months before, and her identity - and by extension her daughter's - remained just as much of a mystery as it had been then. So everyday Fiona asked if the baby had a proper name, and everyday Marlene replied "Not yet." But today was different...

"Actually, I've been thinking about that," she replied.

Fiona's eyebrows rose nearer to her salt-and-pepper hairline. "Oh? And what have you been thinking about since August instead, missy?"

"That's not what I meant," Marlene rolled her eyes at the older woman's teasing. Careful not to disturb her daughter too much, she reached for a stack of books on the little table between them.

"Astrology books? Please don't tell me you're going to name the poor thing Stardust..."

"And what if I am?" Marlene challenged, raising a one blonde brow for a moment before winking at Fiona's disbelieving face. "So anyway, I've been thinking about...about Sirius."

She looked nervously at Fiona, but the older woman said nothing, so Marlene picked up the first book in the stack and flipped it to a page she had previously marked. Marlene knew Fiona did not approve of her holding onto the idea of the mysterious "Sirius" mentioned in the note from "Lily" that had been found in the pocket of Marlene's clothing when she arrived at the hospital. After all, it had been months and the authorities had had no luck in tracking down any Sirius at all, not to mention one that had claimed to be missing a Marlene. But Marlene was unable to explain the warm feeling she got somewhere near her heart when she heard the name, or the way she looked down into her daughter's eyes and knew she got them from her father.

"Sirius is the name of a star - the dog star. It's the brightest star in the sky..." She trailed off wistfully before shaking her head to clear her thoughts. "Anyway, it's part of the Canis Major constellation, so I was thinking about naming her after one of the other stars."

She was rather proud of her idea, and was hoping that Fiona would approve of it as well. Wordlessly, she slid the book across the table to the other woman and pointed to the labelled diagram of the constellation in question.

In an effort to forestall revealing her choice, she shifted the baby in her arms so she could rebutton her blouse.

"So, er, what do you think of the name Adara? I'd call her Addie for short of course because Adara is rather a mouthful. Adara is the second brightest star in the constellation you know, and the twenty-third brightest in the sky and -"

"Marlene, relax dear," Fiona interrupted with an indulgent smile. "I think Adara is a lovely name, and Addie suits our little angel perfectly."

Marlene let out a deep breath of air, relaxing. She was glad Fiona approved. Aside from her daughter, the kindly nurse was the most important person in her life at the moment.

"Good, great! I..." She looked down into her daughter's silvery eyes. "Adara, huh? What do you think, little Addie? I think your daddy will love it, don't you?"

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December 21, 1980

Marlene tossed restlessly under the thick quilts on her narrow bed. She had been unusually exhausted all day, Addie had gone down easily, and it was the Winter Solstice - the longest night of the year with so much darkness to be used for sleep. But Marlene just could not relax.

She flipped onto her stomach, smooshing her face into the pillow. She rolled onto her back, trying to calm her breathing. Huffing angrily under her breath, she dragged her hands over her face. It was late, so late, and with a four month old child, sleep was precious. This was just absolutely unacceptable. Taking deep breaths, she set about counting the the pockmarks in the plaster of the ceiling.

176, 177... and eventually, her eyes slid shut...

.

December 24, 1970

Marlene was watching a girl of about sixteen with lovely golden hair the texture of silk piled on top of her head. She stood in front of a gilded mirror. They were in an enormous bedroom furnished grand furniture, fine linens, and expensive looking decorations. Everything glittered in the candlelight.

"Hey Marl?" The girl called, catching Marlene's eyes in the mirror. "Will you do up the buttons for me?"

"Sure," Marlene replied, sliding off the bed and straightening her white and gold brocaded dressrobes.

The older girl was wearing a more mature version of Marlene's outfit, and in the reflection of the mirror, it was obvious that they were sisters. They had the same hair, the same dark brown eyes, delicate features, and smattering of freckles on their noses.

"Merrick! Marlene!" Called a boy's voice as the doors to the bedroom were thrown open. "Are you two ready yet?"

"Michael! I'm not dressed yet!" Wailed Merrick.

"Relax, Mer. Don't be so stuffy. Here," he withdrew a wand from the folds of his own fine robes, and with one flick, the remaining buttons did themselves up and Marlene smiled gratefully, glad that her task had been completed for her.

At that moment, three more boys came barrelling into the room, howling like barbarians. The first boy, who looked to be about twelve, had a plush dragon clutched in his hand held high above his head, and his twin brother was keeping the third and much younger boy from reaching the toy.

"Michael!" The youngest boy whined. He was even younger than Marlene. "Mack and Mal took Dragon again! Make them give it back!"

"Only if you stop whining, Max," Michael said sternly.

"Ok," Max relied in a normal voice. "I'll stop."

Michael nodded. "Mack, Mal, give Max the toy back. I wish you two wouldn't antagonize him like this. Can't you stick to tormenting each other?"

Mackenzie and Malcolm exchanged a conspiratorial glance before shaking their heads quickly at their older brother and sprinting back out of the room.

Max began to cry in frustration.

"Maxwell, don't cry. Your face will be a mess for the ball," Merrick said, coming over to wipe her brother's tears.

The little boy's lip trembled, so Marlene leaned over and whispered in his ear, "Shall we go after them?"

He brightened up instantly and grabbed Marlene's hand before dragging her to the door. They only made it around the next corner of their manor's winding corridors before Merrick and Michael caught up to them, however.

"Marlene!" Merrick scolded. "You will be at Hogwarts next year, and a young lady does not go tearing about the house as if she were raised by werewolves."

"But -" Marlene protested, desperately wanting to go get into a tussle with her older twin brothers.

"Why don't you come with me, and we'll ask Mother if she'll lend you her ruby comb for your hair? And Michael and Maxwell will go deal with the twins," Merrick offered with a smile.

Marlene pouted a bit, but clasped hands with her older sister and allowed herself to be led off in the opposite direction.

"How about we go show those two who's boss? I'm the only one allowed to use a wand, after all," Michael's voice drifted behind her.

.

December 22, 1980

Marlene shot up in bed so quickly she saw stars. What the bloody hell was that? Was that a memory? Were they using magic?

And that was the first night.

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And that was the first chapter.

A/N: Ok! So, this is obviously AU. Marlene has survived the attack on her family, and she and little Addie are stranded in the muggle world. I tried to keep this first chapter moving quickly and stick to the important stuff. The chapters will be getting longer after this as well.

A note about Marlene's memory loss - it's not your run-of-the-mill the mill amnesia, and you'll find out where it came from in the next chapter or the one after that. So don't expect it to be medically correct.

Also, I've spent very little time inside of hospitals, so that bit at the beginning might seem very inaccurate. If any of you have suggestions on how to make it better, let me know.

If you liked it, please drop me a review! I'd love to get some feedback.

xx thebluefeather