A/N: As anyone who has read my other stories has probably gathered I love Lockhart. Which is why I suppose all my stories are about him to some degree. If you don't like Lockhart then you probably won't like this story....Also just a warning, I am writing him in a way that some people will probably consider OOC. However, I like to believe that everyone has the capacity for change......

You Weren't in Love with Me

Chapter One

I've Been Very Lonely

"I've been very lonely, I did not think I could go on

I was caught - in memories, and dreams I should have won"

- Billy Field

I stared at myself in the small mirror above my chest of drawers and smoothed my hair down for the hundredth time that morning. This was the moment I had been waiting for – my first day of Healer Training. Seven years of always trying to be the best at everything, excel at every subject and now I was finally here, beginning my new career. Why did I feel so nervous then? I had topped my year and been the first person to receive their letter from St Mungo's saying that I had been accepted, but still I couldn't get rid of the twisting feeling deep in my stomach. You're going to be fine I told myself inwardly, but the brown eyes staring out at me from my mirror didn't reflect the confidence I wanted. Sighing I turned away and took my new robes off the hook on the back of the door where I had hung them in anticipation the night before. They were pale blue with the Healer emblem, a wand and a bone crossed, stitched in white on the front. When you graduated you were promoted to wearing royal blue robes, but trainees like me were designated by the pale blue of their uniform.

As I slipped on my robes I started thinking about the moment, two years ago, when I had suddenly decided I wanted to be a healer. I could still vividly see Ron's pale face and the trickle of blood running down one cheek. At first I had felt paralysed but I had somehow wiped out my intense fear and summoned all my metal powers into helping him. It had been as though all of a sudden my mind became calm and I was unaware of my surroundings. I was able to fully focus on what I needed to do to save Ron's life. Later, talking to Professor Dumbledore, he had mentioned that had it not been for my quick thinking and calm spell work, Ron would had died.

'I hope very much Miss Granger, that you are not going to ignore this strong hint on your future career," he had said with an unexpected large smile.

My career? I had always known I wanted to do something worthwhile, but exactly what I wasn't sure. It was true that Harry and Ron may have laughed at SPEW, but in my opinion it was a lot more relevant than some dumb game on broomsticks that they were always obsessing about. Dumbledore's comment had me puzzled though. What was he implying?

"St Mungo's could use a witch like you," he added with a twinkle in his eye. "That was an exceptional Coniunctio charm you worked. Even Madame Pomfery said she couldn't have done a better job".

All of a sudden I knew what I was going to do. I was going to be a Healer! Not just a healer I amended to myself but the best Healer St Mungo's had ever seen. It was amazing how everything suddenly seemed to fit.....I had looked at the pamphlets for Healer Training in fifth year of course, when we had our careers talks, but somehow I had been so caught up in the events of that year, with Harry and everything that had happened at the Department of Mysteries that it hadn't been the right time to think properly about my future.

Now here I was, two years later, about to start what I considered to be the most important journey of my life. I walked over to the small fireplace opposite the little kitchen that occupied my one room apartment which I was renting in London to be near St Mungo's. Briefly the thought of Ron again crossed my mind. Following the terrifying events which had led me to save his life we had started a relationship at the beginning of seventh year and he had always talked about us moving in together when we finished school. It was crazy really, Ron had been the last person I would have expected to go out with, and it had been a bad mistake. I still felt the terrible guilt of telling him that I didn't love him in the way he wanted. He was one of my closest friends, we had been through so many things together, but I wasn't attracted to him like that. Sighing again as I picked a pinch of floor powder out of the small bowel I kept next to the fireplace, I reflected on how my two relationships had simply been an extension of a close friendship. Viktor and I had dated for awhile, although I had never told Ron that. For some reason he had always had a violent dislike of Viktor.... What would be it be like to truly be in love withy someone? I wondered as I threw a pinch of floo powder onto the fire. Stepping into the flames I pushed such inappropriate thoughts out of my head and said in a loud voice

"St Mungo's".

Gilderoy Lockhart leaned his elbows against the small window sill and gazed down into the drizzly grey street far below. A few Muggles moved, small as ants from this height, scurrying to arrive on time at whatever strange jobs they did during the day. Finding nothing in the dismal scenery below to take his mind of his problems, Gilderoy raised his eyes and contemplated his reflection in the dirty glass of the small window. His hair, once styled into luxurious blond waves now fell limply to his shoulders, a tangled fringe falling over one eye. His eyes were still the same amazingly vibrant blue which they had always been, but Gilderoy neither noticed nor cared. Slowly he moved one hand up to the glass to touch his reflection, and then abruptly ran his hand over the pane, smearing the dirt and causing his image to disappear.

The last year had been one of strange revelations for Gilderoy. One of the newly graduated healers at St Mungo's, a young man by the name of Finnegan Paige, had taken a strong interest in Gilderoy's case. Hailed to be the most promising healer the hospital had seen since Madame Hoodwinkle, inventor of the Angustus potion for relief of allergic reactions to common potion ingredients, had retired some forty years before, Finnegan had spent hours of study on reading up about rehabilitating people who, like Gilderoy, had had their memories affected. He had come across some ancient spells and remedies in his search through the vast archives of the London Wizarding Library, which he had used to try and help Gilderoy. Following the events surrounding the chamber of secrets Gilderoy had gradually been regaining some of his memories, nbut Finnegan had been sure there was a way to help him recover fully. What the young healer had not realized was that Gilderoy, far from behaving strangely, had always had a strong passion for himself. His conceited and superior attitude, while marked by significant memory loss, was nothing new. Disturbed that someone could be so overly obsessed with themselves, Finnegan began with a series of mind enhancing spells, to delve into Gilderoy's past and see if there was anything which would account for such behavior.

Other healer's had criticized and even laughed at his attempts, saying that it was best to leave things alone and there was no point in trying to change who a person was, even if they were a self-centered git who couldn't remember their own name half the time. Although quiet and studious, Finnegan was not one to give up and he continued his daily 'therapy' sessions with Gilderoy. What came about however was not what he was prepared for and now he wondered if maybe the other healer's had been right an it would have been best to leave things alone.

Gilderoy moved over to his bed and sat down, his hands folded in his lap, unmoving. Finnegan would be coming in later to check on how he was today, but it would be just like any other day Gilderoy thought, full of loneliness and apathy. Staring down at his hands but not really seeing them Gilderoy's thoughts turned to what had happened to him over his time with the healer. He remembered the time Finnegan had made him relive his worst moments of his childhood, when his father had constantly put him down, telling him he was worthless and that he would never amount to anything. His sixteenth birthday...his father presenting him at breakfast with a mirror as his present and telling him to look into it....

"That's your best asset. The only thing that's going to get you anywhere boy. Lucky you inherited one thing of worth from your old man eh? Pity you didn't also get my superior brains or charm," Gilderoy's father had said sweeping his thick blond hair back from his brow and laughing loudly..

"You haven't got anything else that's worth a hoot that's for sure, so get used to that mirror boy, and make the most of what you see".

Those were memories that Gilderoy had long forgotten, or as Finnegan said, repressed. Day by day Gilderoy was forced to remember everything, wiping memories of wizards to take credit for their work, pretending he had done all the amazing things in hi books, his time as a teacher at Hogwarts.... The self realization that had come as a result of this had crushed what little self worth he had ever possessed. Far from being self absorbed, Finnegan had realized, Gilderoy's attitudes had arisen from a deep need to prove himself someone of worth, to prove himself to his father. Now with this total revelation Gilderoy, while having his memory back fully intact, had become a different person.

"What is the point of going on?" he had asked Finnegan at their last meeting. "I'm useless, good for nothing, I have no talents, no friends...no where to go...".

Finnegan was deeply disturbed by the change he had worked in his patient, and wouldn't allow Gilderoy to leave St Mungo's for fear he would be unable to cope, or worse yet try and end his life....". He hoped desperately that Gilderoy could overcome his past and move ahead with his life, although he admitted that having been such a celebrity was going to make things difficult. Who would employ someone who was so well known for having spent the last 5 years in St Mungo's after falsifying all their written works?

Gilderoy's thoughts focused on what Finnegan had said the last time they had spoken.

"I just wish there was someone who you could meet, who would accept you for you and help you get over this depression and lack of self confidence...," Finnegan had said reflectively as they drank a cup of tea together.

"You mean a relationship? With a woman?" Gilderoy said with a rueful laugh. "It may be hard to believe but I've never had a girlfriend. Sure there seemed to be many women who wanted to go out with me but something always held me back....I was afraid I suppose".

"Afraid that you weren't really good enough for them and when they got to know you they wouldn't like you?" Finnegan asked gently.

Gilderoy sighed deeply and replied "I suppose so. Anyway who's going to want me now? It's useless, everything's just plain useless," he said abruptly standing up and walking over to the window.

"Gilderoy, I know you won't believe me but you have so many things going for you. You're a really good person to talk to and when you aren't feeling so down you have a sharp wit that I enjoy very much".

Gilderoy however, appeared not to be listening as he started through the window into the street below.

A sharp rap on the door broke Gilderoy's thoughts and he stood up to see who was wanting to see him at such an early hour. Finnegan smiled broadly at him when he pulled the door open.

"Good morning," the healer said in what he hoped was a cheerful voice. "I' thought I'd jut stop by early today to let you know that we have a new trainee healer starting today and as I'm going to be the one orienting her to the hospital I thought I might bring her down to meet you later. Get you to see a new face and all that".

Gilderoy walked back over to the window and once again stared out. He spent a lot of time gazing at the street below.

"What ever you think Finnegan," he said softly.

Finnegan sighed and turned to leave. He felt guilt that it was he who had brought this change in Gilderoy about. But would he really have been happier living out his days with no memories and running after every visitor to give them his autograph? Well some thing certainly needs to be done to help him now Finnegan thought despondently. But what?

Suddenly without realizing why he was doing it, Gilderoy turned fro the window and called out to Finnegan's departing back

"What's he name?"

Startled Finnegan turned around.

"Hermione Granger".