The Day After

"Is that my name?"

6 hours after the Incident

The true meaning of that sentence hadn't hit him this morning. He had been so naïve. He had watched her with tearful eyes as her clouded gaze swept over the room. He had realized, of course, that her memory had been suppressed beneath layers of poison induced haze, but had not really grasped at the thought until they had come in.

Harry James Potter and Ronald Arthur Weasley had entered the infirmary at approximately 3 p.m. and Draco's heart broke the minute she recognized them.

"Harry Potter! Ronald Weasley!" she cried.

They moved closer to embrace her, but something stalled them. He hadn't caught exactly what it was, but it had been something she said. He scowled, confused. He should have been paying more attention!

Then he heard her repeat it, minutes later.

"I know you from the newspapers! You're the boy hero and you're his best mate! It's absolutely splendid to meet you." She laughed. "I would tell you my name, but you seem to already know it. Besides, I don't really remember it all that much." She pouted then, but one look in the mirror made her laugh harder.

At that moment, his heart had clenched and reformed, bringing him back to painful reality. "Harry," he called, careful to not let years of hatred show. "Can I speak with you?"

Harry hesitated, malice in his gaze. "Why should I, Mal—"

Draco cut him off. "Please, Harry, it's Draco. We wouldn't want lovely Hermione thinking we hate each other all of a sudden." He clenched his fists. "So, can I please speak with you now? Alone?"

Harry's face blazed red in anger before he stepped forward. "I'll be back, you two." He looked pointedly at Ron. "Don't do anything stupid."

With that said, Harry exited the infirmary, Draco close at his heels. "What do you want, ferret?"

Draco scowled. "She's been poisoned."

Harry's eyes blazed. "Who did it?"

"My mum…"

Harry sputtered and cursed. "You do realize I'll kill her, don't you?" He stepped forward. He was a couple inches taller than Draco's 6'2" height. "And if you stand in the way—I'll kill you, without any hesitation, despite the feelings of friendship you and Hermione shared."

"No need to go all protective." Draco fumed. "My mum is dead—suicide…and that's not why I asked you here, Potter." He grabbed the taller boy's shirt collar. The muscles in his forearm twitched. "I think I know how to fix her." Harry's eyes lit up, but Draco was not finished. "And you're not going to like it at all."

Harry shook his head. "If it saves her, I'm sure I can deal with it."

"Even if it means letting her fall in love with a ferret?" Draco questioned.

Harry sighed, drooping his head. "If it saves her…I can deal with it." He repeated, not daring to look into Draco's questioning eyes.

"What about, Weasley?" Draco asked, already expecting the answer.

"He'll deal with it, or he'll lose her. It's simple." Harry's tone changed. "But if you hurt her in any way, or if this is just some sick joke, I will come after you, and even Fawkes will not be able to save you."

6 hours later

They had left hours ago, but Draco could still feel their presence in the dark Head's common room. Both of them had made the air in the room hostile. Stupid Harry Potter and Mr. Red Riding Hood. They had never stopped their relentless questioning and Hermione had been so flustered, while he had been merely annoyed.

Now the air had finally calmed and the inhabitants of Room 519 had finally settled into some semblance of peace. (A/N: Draco was born on the 5th of June, 1980 and Hermione was born on the 19th of September, 1979 bwahaha!)

Hermione sat next to him, curled in the corner of the couch, absorbed in a romance novel she had picked from her private collection. The title read: Pride and Prejudice: by Jane Austen. It seemed that she hadn't forgotten her habits or her likes and dislikes and she certainly hadn't forgotten about magic.

It was as if the people of her life had been erased from her memory, leaving behind only faded scars. He knew this because, even though she did not "know" him, she still felt extremely uncomfortable, and sometimes terrified, when Ron touched her. Memories of their encounter yesterday…The memory made him flinch. He had a sudden urge to protect her from some unseen evil.

"Hermione, are you okay?" he queried, breaking the awkward silence in the room. She glanced up at him with a smile, but it didn't reach her chocolate eyes.

"Were we in love, Draco?" The question sounded so innocent.

Draco's breath caught and then he let it out in a huge sigh of suffering. "No, Hermione, but I think we were getting there." He felt tears prick his eyes. He held them back, embarrassed by their existence.

"I'm sorry," she murmured.

"Why?"

"You loved me, but I forgot you, like I hadn't even known you. It must hurt so badly." She scooted over, snuggling into his chest. "I'm so sorry."

He put his arms, tentatively, around her. "How do you know I loved you?"

She sighed. "Because I feel safe with you, Draco…" She opened her book again, showing him a sentence. He couldn't describe it. "Do you see?" she asked. "Love radiates off of every word in his sentence, yet it is not a proclamation."

He nodded. This Mr. Darcy certainly had a way with words.

"You are very much like him, Draco." She prodded, snuggling, if possible, even closer to him. "You say that I did not love you and do not admit that you love me. I know for a fact that one of them is false. You did and do love me." She said, with finality. "The question is: will we ever find out if the other was a lie?"

He was about to answer but something stopped him. What if Hermione loved me? The idea made the pain in his heart even more unbearable, so words were a loss to him. By the time he had composed himself enough to speak—Hermione had drifted off to the world of dreams.

He sighed and grabbed a blanket from the back of the couch, throwing it over the both of them. She sighed when the warmth enveloped her and Draco was met with a sense of peace as he too fell asleep.

8 hours later

Draco awoke to the sound of fists on wood. "Bloody hell," he moaned, rising from the warmth of Hermione's embrace. She moaned at the loss of contact and opened her eyes.

"Come back…" she whined, still delusional from sleep. "You were so warm…I'm so cold." She laughed at the absurdity of it. She made a heart with her thumbs and pointer fingers. "You complete me." This made her laugh harder, before exhaustion won out and the darkness claimed her fragile mind.

Draco yawned, aching for the warmth and the protection of sleep again. He growled then, remembering the horrid sound that had awoken him. He trudged to the oak door, pulling it open with a scowl.

"What do you want?" he snarled, not even looking at the visitor. That is, until the said visitor stepped on his sock-clad foot. "Bloody hell!" he wailed, looking down. He was met with an eyeful of red hair. "She-weasel?" he asked, still staring at the crown of her hair.

She glanced up, hazel eyes filled with tears. "Where is she, ferret?"

"Who?" he asked, already knowing the answer, but unwilling to let her know of Hermione's condition.

"My best friend! Pomfrey said you took her from the infirmary last night and brought her here. But instead of being in her room, she's in the common room, with you!" She spat, covering his naked chest with spittle. He groaned in disgust.

"She's sleeping. Come back later." He snarled.

"Wake her up then! I want to see her!" she fired back.

"It's bloody 5 in the morning, you she-devil! She needs to recover!" he growled.

"I don't care!" she answered.

"Some friend you are! She was sick, you blooming idiot! Leave her be!" he spat, nearly laughing when her face flamed.

That was before she broke into tears. "Some friend I am…" she moaned, before turning and barreling down the corridor. He nearly called after her, but he heard Hermione call out to him.

"Draco? Are you coming back?" She sounded desperate. "Because if you're not, I'm starting a fire. It's bloody freezing!" He could almost hear her teeth chattering.

"How about both?" he offered.

"Perfect," she answered. "But you get to make the fire. I'm horrid with matches."

2 hours later

HERMIONE GRANGER: POISONED

Written by reporter, Belladonna Maltriev, of the Daily Prophet

Hermione Granger, Head Girl of Hogwarts and best friend to Harry Potter has been poisoned this morning by the estranged widow of Lucius Malfoy, one of the head Death Eaters who recently perished in Azkaban prison. Most know her as Narcissa Black Malfoy.

Her son, coincidentally, was also present at the scene but was there on Hermione's behalf. He was the only one protecting her. The highly respected nurse of Hogwarts, a Madame Pomfrey, was absent, but was seen in Hogsmeade later that day with a Professor McGonagall and Professor Sprout. Hermione's recovery is coming along well but an anonymous source has claimed that the once loved Hermione has lost all memory of any people whom she may have known. It was suspected to be the use of the Forgetfulness potion mixed with deadly asphodel extract, but it is only a theory.

We all have her in our hearts.

If you have any information, contact the Daily Prophet.

Everywhere in Wizarding London, people were intrigued at the unknown news, but in Room 519, the paper was met with a scowl and a toss to the garbage. Draco was not pleased. Gossip was a good motivator, yes, but not when he and those closest to him were involved. No…Draco was not pleased at all.

------R & R-----

This is sort of the prologue…Ha…sorry if I left you hanging on the prequel to this. I truly am. But, alas, it needed to be done.

(cries) Please review! I don't want people abandoning me!

I'll update soon, lovies!

-Darkness-