A/N: Wow you guys really hated that chapter huh? Well, the ending, at least. I'm sorry I highlight/deleted all of Hermione's good Malfoy memories. Later, it will all become clear. I assure you. I promise you. So everyone loves Draco and Hermione, Luna and Harry, and Ginny and Blaise? Good, I do too. I was never a big Ron fan, so I guess that's why he's always the bad guy here. But don't worry. You'll feel for Ron later. But not right now.

Disclaimer: Yeah, don't make me say it.

Chapter Eleven: Paradise Lost.

Draco Malfoy slowly backed out of the hospital wing and flew up stairs and behind tapestries and past students still slowly milling their way back to their dormitories. When he uttered the ridiculous password that neither of them had changed, he felt his throat tighten. But he wasn't going to cry. Malfoys were not supposed to cry.

He just mentally deleted all the times he had cried in front of Hermione. She didn't remember anymore anyway.

He slowly trudged up to her room and opened the door, smiling at the book she had left on her couch and all the girly products all over the floor. He shut the door softly behind him and leaned against it, much like she had done when she had kissed him for the last time. Would she ever kiss him again? Probably not.

He was back to being Mal-ferret. He was back to being the prejudiced Death Eater to her now. He slowly slid down the wall to the floor, tears sliding down his face and onto his black silk shirt. He didn't sob, he didn't whine. He just stared at the wall, the tears leaving their tracks all down his face.

He loved her. He loved her more than he had ever loved anyone in his entire life, except maybe his mother. He wrapped his arms around himself and tried to imagine that he was holding her again. That he was holding her like she did for him when he had that nightmare. He took a deep, shaking breath and let it out, letting the continuous tears slide over his parted lips. He crawled into bed, where he had been sleeping since she so nervously had asked him to do on the first night back at Hogwarts.

He stared at the canopy on the bed, letting his mind wander like he usually did before he fell asleep. But sleep never came. He wished for it to claim him, to whisk him away to a distant world where Hermione Grangers could never lose their memories and Ronald Weasleys never existed. He wished to go back in time to earlier that night, when she had snuck a kiss to him in the middle of the crowded dance floor. He wished to be anywhere but here, mourning the loss of a girl he had hated for six years. The girl he had loved.

A knock came at the portrait hole. Draco covered his face with the pillow and ignored it. It came again, louder this time. He muttered curses into the down pillow and swung his feet to the floor, ignoring the fact that he was still fully dressed and his face was pink from all the tears.

He stood at the portrait hole, wondering if they were bringing Hermione back here to sleep. How was he going to break it to her that they had been sleeping in the same room for almost two months?

"Malfoy come on! I know you can hear me! I want to help you!"

Great. It was Potter.

Malfoy wiped his eyes furiously and swung the portrait hole open. "What do you want, Potter?"

"I want to help Hermione get her memories back."

Malfoy rolled his eyes. "Why? Don't you want her to never remember anything good about me? It would be so much easier for you and the Weasel if she just forgot me."

Harry let himself in and took a seat on the couch. "I saw your face back there Malfoy. You like her. I'll help you."

"I don't like her Potter," Malfoy spat at him, taking a seat on the far side of the room, as far away from Harry as he could get.

"Don't give me that bull, Malfoy."

"You don't know anything about us." Malfoy said, crossing his arms over his chest.

Harry leaned forward. "Then why don't you tell me?" he said.

"Why would I tell you anything?"

"Because I can help you."

"Elaborate."

"Hermione doesn't know you're a decent guy. Granted, I don't either, but she used to think you were. Now, she wants nothing to do with you. She doesn't want to see you or talk to you. How do you expect to get her to remember anything when she doesn't even want to see your face?" Harry leaned back, satisfied that he had made his case.

Malfoy mimed coughing so he could wipe a stray tear off his cheek.

"Potter, I didn't like her. She saved my life and cared for me all summer. She gave up being with you and the Weasel just to make sure I was going to be ok. She befriended my mother, my house elf, and even me." He took a deep breath. "She helped me through nightmares, she helped me through werewolves, she helped me through everything. She was like my guardian angel. I didn't like her, Potter. I loved her."

Harry's expression didn't change, but his mind had frozen. This was something he had never expected. Draco Malfoy was in love with his best friend. And she probably used to feel the same way. No wonder it looked like he had been crying.

"Malfoy, have you been crying?" Harry asked, wishing he could use his wand to shine light on his face.

"Tomorrow, we'll meet in the Library to find out what's happened to her," Malfoy said, completely ignoring his question.

"I have classes tomorrow."

"I'm skipping mine."

Harry nodded, then made plans to meet Malfoy in the library at 8 o'clock the next morning. Malfoy insisted.

*********

"Ginny, I need to ask you a favor."

"Yes, Blaise?" she said, leaning against the wall in front of the portrait hole.

"I need you to help Hermione remember Draco as a good guy," he said.

"Why?"

"Did you see his face? Come on, Gin. For me," Blaise said, kissing her cheek.

She pulled away. "You're going to have to come up with something better than you," she said petulantly, putting her hands on her hips.

"Do it for Hermione."

Ginny dropped her hands. "Aww, you got me."

Blaise laughed and kissed her quickly before walking away before an angry Gryffindor could come out of the portrait hole and curse him.

********

"Malfoy, you look terrible," Harry remarked, grabbing a book and sitting down.

Malfoy just sneered at him and grabbed another book. Of course he looked terrible. He hadn't slept all night. He couldn't bring himself to do anything. Everything he did reminded him of Hermione! He was lucky he had managed to take a shower and get dressed without thinking of the way Hermione brushed her teeth like a mental patient or how she always managed to take a shorter shower than he did.

He flipped through the book, reached the end, and threw it on the floor. Madame Pince hissed at him, and he ignored her, grabbing another five books and flipping through them in quick succession. Harry was still on his first, reading a passage. Malfoy glared at him.

"We don't have all century Potter," he snarled. "I would like for Hermione to get her memory back before I die."

"Shut up Malfoy. I might have found something."

Malfoy stood up so fast his chair clattered to the floor. Madame Pince flared her nostrils. He ran to Potter's side of the table and leaned over, scanning a passage about Memory Charms. When cast, the caster could set the charm not to happen for a short amount of time.

"Like a ticking time bomb," Potter mused.

"But it's only for a short amount of time. It had to have been.—" Malfoy thought back to what had happened. "She took Weasel to the hospital wing before me! It was the Weasel!"

Harry shook his head. "Why would Ron put a memory charm on her?" he asked reasonably.

"Hello! I stole his girlfriend! If he removes all of her memories, she'll come running back to him, which I'm sure she's already done." A disgusted look crossed his face for a second, then it passed.

Harry just stared at the book. He was thinking of Ron's weird behavior throughout the school year, being polite at dinner, being less then respectful to Hermione's feelings, acting way more courageous and less than admirable. There was a chance that he could have done it, but something else was up with him. He just couldn't quite put his finger on what.

"Come on, Potter. You know I'm right."

"Right about what?" said a serene voice. Harry turned around and wrapped an arm around Luna, who smiled.

"Right about what?" she asked again.

"Malfoy thinks Ron was the one that cursed Hermione."

Luna nodded. "That makes sense. I mean, she did like Draco, so he could have done it to get her back."

Harry stared at her. "Maybe you have a point," he said slowly.

Malfoy raised his arms, exasperated. "I just told you that! She has a point, but I don't?"

Harry walked out and Luna turned to Malfoy. "I'm the girlfriend. I always have a point." She smiled, then let her smile slide off her face. "Draco, I know you liked her too. I'm going to do whatever I can to help her remember you, ok?"

Malfoy felt the sudden urge to hug her. Why he ever called her Loony, he would never know.

Then she started waving her hands around his face. "Wrackspurt got you?"

Oh, yes. That was why.

*********

"Ginny, I told you, I don't remember!" Hermione said, exasperated. She twirled a piece of blanket around her forefinger until it turned purple, then released it.

"You took Malfoy to the Halloween ball, Hermione," Ginny said for the umpteenth time.

Hermione made a face. "Why?"

"Because you like him!"

She looked affronted. "I most certainly do not!"

Ginny looked maddened. "Yes. You. Do! You spent the summer at his house, tending to his wounds, you took him to the Halloween ball, you kissed him!"

Hermione fake gagged.

"Just LISTEN to me!" Ginny threw up her hands and Blaise came to her side, rubbing her shoulders affectionately.

"Calm down, Gin."

"I can't do this right now. I just can't. I saw Malfoy today, Hermione. He looks terrible. Harry told me he was crying last night. He loves you and you can't even remember why." She choked on her words, like she herself wanted to cry.

Hermione just stared at her, confused.

Harry and Malfoy walked in behind Ginny, and Hermione had to admit, Malfoy did look terrible. He had bags under his eyes, his normally bright white skin looked waxy. His eyes were bloodshot and his hair was ruffled. She could just barely make out some stubble on his jaw.

"Hermione, we know what happened to you," Harry said. "It was a memory charm set on a time scale."

Hermione sat up straighter. She loved to hear theories. "Ok. So how do we fix it?"

Malfoy spoke up. "Normally, there's a memory that you lost that stands out the most. If we help you remember it, then it should trigger all the other memories that were erased."

Hermione stared at him curiously until he looked away. There was no smirk, no sneer. Just sadness.

"Why are you so sad?" she asked him. He looked up at her for a second, then fled the scene. Ginny followed him, casting a dark look back at Hermione as she did so.

"Harry, I don't understand! They keep telling me I liked Malfoy, but I don't remember! I'm dating Ron! I love Ron! Why is everyone trying to keep us apart?" she buried her head in her pillow, and Harry laid a hand on her shoulder.

"You and Ron broke up last night when he attacked Malfoy," he said slowly.

"What?"

"You like Malfoy."

"You too!"

"Hermione Jean Granger!" Harry bellowed, making her flinch. "I would never lie to you! Draco Malfoy loves you! I'm going to need you to remember that, or you might never get your memories back!"

Hermione just gaped at him. "I'm going to have to ask you to leave," she said, and turned her back on him.