Harry opens his eyes.

He immediately goes to the foot of his bed, finding the paper that he knows would be there. He unfolds it, reading the beautiful writing.

"We all,
In our lifetimes,
Are struck by amnesia.
I did forget what is love,
Until I met you.
I forgot poetry,
How to read,
And how to write.
You taught me,
In your words,
And in your language.
Now,
I read and write,
Love and forgive.
The things I had forgotten,
You left them with me,
And left me."
-Shantanu

Harry is breathless. Who had he hurt so deeply? He desperately wants to know.

He feels sick to his stomach. He had left this person, and he feels horrible about it. He wishes he could know who it was.

He crams the paper underneath his pillow, his stomach and heart hurting.

He decides not to go to class today, instead curling up in a ball on his bed and crying over lovers he'll never love and friends he'll never know.