"She's about to wake up. You all need to leave."
"We're not going anywhere," said Harry firmly.
"That's right," said Ginny.
"Absolutely," said Mrs Weasley. Mr Weasley put an arm around her shoulders and gave her a squeeze.
The healer frowned and tried to make himself seem taller. Difficult, given the company.
"You have to-"
"I'm happy to wait in the corridor," said Charlie, "I don't know her all that well,"
Ron glared.
"C'mon, you'd better show me where to go," Charlie clapped a calloused paw on the healer's skinny shoulder, steering him out of the room.
"Is that really a good idea?" whispered Ginny, "I mean we don't know-"
Hermione opened her eyes.
Everyone froze anxiously.
She blinked. Inhaled sharply, and in one flurry of movement sat up and started frantically feeling around the hospital bed, never taking her eyes off them.
"Hermione?" Harry took a step towards her, "Are you-"
"Come any closer and I'll hex you into next century," she croaked.
Harry paused.
"Hermione?"
"Who the hell are you?"
"Uh-" Harry exchanged looks with the others, words dying on his tongue, "Um. I'm Harry."
Hermione cast him a truly terrifying crocodile smile.
"Well, Harry, I strongly recommend you don't come any closer unless you wish to lose both your legs and your small intestine,"
"Is there a spell for that?" George tipped his head, curious, and then took a hasty step back as Hermione turned to look at him.
"Of course," she said, "There's another that removes all your teeth and repositions them elsewhere. Arteries. Eyeballs. That sort of thing,"
"No wand," Ginny muttered.
Hermione gave a short laugh.
"You think I need one? Convenient, I'll admit. But not necessary."
"Oh dear. Oh dear, oh dear." Mrs Weasley looked on the verge of tears, "Not the best person to obliviate. My dear, we're your- well, we don't mean you any harm. You had an accident- memory charm- you don't remember?"
Hermione narrowed her eyes.
"Well, if I'd had a memory charm accident, I'm hardly likely to remember it, am I?"
"Of- of course, dear, it's just- do- do you recognise anyone?"
Hermione glared round at them.
"How do I know it was an accident?"
"What?"
"How do I know you didn't do this on purpose?"
"Wha- we didn't do this!" said Mrs Weasley, horrified, "As though we would ever-"
"You would say that," said Hermione, repositioning the hospital pillows behind her back more comfortably, "Tell you what. Prove it. I'll listen to anyone who will hand over their wand."
She folded her arms and looked round.
"I-" Harry stepped forward.
"Not you," she snapped, "I don't like you. You're…" she wrinkled her nose, "earnest."
Everyone exchanged uneasy glances.
Ron sighed.
"Tactical error, you know," he said, tossing his wand onto the bed, "As soon as you ask for one, it just proves you can't do wandless magic,"
"Faulty logic," said Hermione, holding Ron's wand in her fingertips. "It just proves I want a wand. Right. The rest of you, out. If you genuinely don't mean me any harm, you'll do it. And if you do mean me harm- well, I now have a wand-"
"Interesting that you remember magic," said Mr Weasley suddenly.
"I'm muggleborn, not stupid," said Hermione tersely.
"Yes, but don't you see that means that-"
"OUT!" Hermione flicked a shower of sparks at them.
"Geez," said Ginny, "Good luck," she grabbed Harry's arm and towed him towards the door.
"Shout if you need us," said Mr Weasley.
Ron nodded, and ran a hand through his hair anxiously.
The door closed behind them, and Ron looked down at her. She was regarding him thoughtfully, rolling the wand through her fingers, feeling all the flaws in the wood and the carving. Not homicidal. Ron dragged a chair over and sat down beside the bed.
"Hey,"
"So what happened?"
"You got in the way of a Death Eater's spell,"
She frowned.
"Death eater? What kind of ridiculous name is that?"
Ron cracked his knuckles uncomfortably.
"Fair point. They're all nutters. Evil nutters."
"I see."
"He was aiming for you. You're- kind of the brainbox of the operation. Strategically, memory charm was a good way to go."
"Yes, except there's no such thing,"
Ron frowned.
"Um… what?"
"No such thing."
Ron ran a hand through his hair again.
"What is it?"
He gave a short laugh.
"Traditionally, you don't like to be contradicted."
She narrowed her eyes at him.
"The memory charm seems to have taken your memory of memory charms," he said apologetically.
She looked down at her hands, as though making a mental inventory of the cuts and scrapes there. She sighed and looked up at him again.
"So, how long have we been together?"
"What? Oh, you mean you, me and Harry? Since first year. Well- since the mountain troll anyway."
Hermione's eyebrows shot up.
"That idiot? I would never- I mean I would never anyway, but- that idiot? Who does he think he is, saviour of the universe?"
"Ah…um… sort of. He's also one of your best friends. Me being the other one. Ron," he said, realising she wouldn't know. He held out a hand awkwardly. "Not another saviour or anything, just a- a friend."
She frowned at him. Ron gave up on the hand shaking offer and scratched his knee instead.
"We are dating though, right?"
"What?!"
She was looking at him anxiously.
"We are though, right?"
Ron gaped. And gulped.
"Uh, no. Not exactly."
Hermione raised an eyebrow at him.
"No. Not at all."
Ron was quite convinced he was beetroot. Certainly his face was on fire.
"Oh," she sounded disappointed. "Why not?"
Ron blinked.
"Uh… well… um…"
Her grey eyes never wavered.
"You clearly fancy me. Do I not fancy you? I think I would you know. You're sort of…" she tipped her head to one side, "appealing."
Ron opened his mouth and shut it again. This was not going to plan.
"Um… thank you?"
"It's an observation, not a compliment."
"Oh." Ron swallowed.
Hermione was still studying him.
"So that was your family. The ones with the matching hair."
"Uh, some of them, yeah." Tactful topic change, thanks.
She nodded.
"So… your 'friend' has an accident and your family turns up in order to worry about how you're coping. Are you sure we're not dating?"
Argh! So persistant.
Ron gave a reluctant laugh.
"No, we're not dating. But if you get your memory back, I swear I'll ask you out."
Hermione blinked.
"What if I don't?"
Her eyes were so serious.
"Uh… you will." He laughed again- but it sounded hollow. "Of course you will."
She looked sad.
"So… I'm not her then."
"Who?"
"The Hermione you're in love with,"
Ron flushed scarlet again.
"What- don't- I mean-"
"It's ok," she said quietly.
"No- it's- look, you're still you," Ron waved a hand desperately, "It's just, you know, it'd be weird- you don't even remember me- I wouldn't want to be taking advantage…"
Hermione raised an eyebrow skeptically.
"You know I wasn't kidding about wandless magic,"
"You don't even remember memory charms," protested Ron.
She held out his wand.
Ron frowned.
Hermione made an exasperated sound, took his hand and curled his fingers around his wand.
"No wand. See?"
She cupped her hands and a little blue flame fluttered and sparked into life.
Ron found his eyes were darting back and forth between her told-you-so expression and the flickery blue light.
"How are you doing that? I mean, I know you're brilliant, but wandless magic is pretty bloody unusual,"
Hermione sighed, closed her hands over the blue flame and snuffed it out.
"What do you think I've spent the past seven years working on?"
"Well- homework," said Ron, "And defeating Voldemort. Which we did, by the way. Well, Harry did. And we helped. Well you did all the research and Harry did the heroic stuff, and I-"
"Of course I was doing homework," she rolled her eyes, "But didn't you ever wonder what my motivation was?"
"Errm…" Ron frowned. The desire to do vast quantities of homework was unfathomable and hence not worth thinking about. "Not really. I suppose I kinda got the impression you thought of knowledge as power and a useful tool against you-know-who,"
She frowned.
"Who?"
"Voldemort. You know."
She shook her head.
"Wow." Ron let out a breath. "Ok, well, stands to reason if you don't remember me and Harry, you wouldn't remember Voldemort either. Basically, big bad guy intent on mass destruction and slaughter, who did a whole heap of dark magic and rendered himself subhuman and had to be got rid of."
Hermione's expression was troubled.
"Are you saying we killed someone?"
"No. Voldemort had destroyed himself long before we turned up. Do you remember horcruxes?"
Hermione's eyebrows shot up.
"Oh dear."
"Yes." Ron scratched his head. "Look, I know you probably want to know what you don't remember, but I don't know where the gaps are. Think you could fill me in on what the last seven years were like for you?"
Hermione was frowning again.
"You think it's only the last seven years of my memory that are custard?"
Ron shrugged.
"I'd love to say that if you remember magic it stands to reason your memories must be ok up until at least the Hogwarts express, but but it doesn't, and actually, I really don't know much about your life before Hogwarts. I know your parents are dentists, I know you've been on family holidays to France, and I know you went to muggle school but…" Ron shrugged again, "I can only help with the last seven years."
Hermione bit her lip.
Ron rubbed the back of his neck and shifted uncomfortably in the chair. She looked so… real.
She was real.
She was Hermione. Just… with bits missing.
But it didn't feel like there were bits missing. It seemed like her. Just… Ron couldn't put his finger on it. She was thinking, the way she always thought, that intense distant expression, like something was happening far away or in another universe and only she could see it. So brilliant, so strong… so mortal. Wandless magic or no, there was no way he was leaving her vulnerable and wandless in a hospital ward with Death Eaters on the loose.
"I felt sad when you mentioned my parents," she said quietly, "Are they dead?"
Her steady grey eyes were suddenly boring holes into his skull.
"No," he said quickly, "They're fine- just got a few memory problems too."
She blinked.
"I see,"
"Yeah."
Hermione lapsed back into silence, back into that intense otherwhere.
Ron flipped his wand through his fingers a few times and tried not to say anything.
Finally, she took a breath, like she was just waking up.
"I think I'd better rest now," she gave a small smile, "Could you send that healer back in?"
Ron felt his throat close up in panic. He was being dismissed. He was being sent away. He was being- a complete git. She must be exhausted.
"You trust him?"
"No, but I can tell you trust me, and I notice you made up your mind to leave me with your wand."
Ron pulled a face.
"Legilimency?"
She grinned.
"Nope. You're just super easy to read. You got mildly reluctant and then sort of noble and then determined in quick succession, and you were looking at your wand. Well you were looking at me, and then you were looking at your wand. And besides, even if you weren't thinking exactly that, I still want your wand. It's got a good feeling."
Ron passed her the wand.
"It's new," He said, "I might be a bit overly attached to it. Olivander's been teaching me."
Hermione sighed.
"I remember Olivander," she said wistfully, "He was such a sweet old man,"
"Mmm," Ron didn't think now was the time to reminisce about Olivander, especially if he was still a sweet old man in Hermione's memory.
"Thanks," Hermione said, rolling his wand between her fingers again, "Come tomorrow?"
Relief flooded through him.
"Of course," he said. "Sleep well,"
Hermione cast him an amused look.
"Oh I'm not going to sleep," she said, "I've got seven years worth of memories to run through,"
"Right," said Ron drily, "Of course- homework."
The amused look deepened into a grin.
"Have you ever wondered where magic comes from? Or what it is exactly? It might be a touch perverse, but I can't help but think this is a unique opportunity to answer some fairly fundamental questions,"
Ron found he was grinning back at her.
"In between solving the mysteries of the universe," he said, "Could you spare a thought for the reversing obliviation? I'd really like to ask you out,"
Hermione cast him a look from under dark lashes.
"Ask away,"
"Not while you can't remember me,"
"Spoilsport."
"Minx."
"Ooh, you never would've said that to the old me,"
"The old you would never have indulged in flirting,"
Hermione was grinning.
"The old me probably had better things to do,"
"Definitely," said Ron, feeling strangely buoyant and off balance, "The old you was busy saving the world."