Chapter 3: Crookshanks

Hermione was in the kitchen, reading the Daily Prophet when Harry returned from work. He was holding a large paper bag in his arms and Hermione guessed from the meal plan stuck on the refrigerator that it contained Indian food.

"Hey. How was the animal shelter?" Harry asked as he began unloading the bag and pulling out plates and utensils.

"It was good. How was your day at work?" Hermione found the casualness of the conversation odd, since in her memory the last real conversation she'd had with Harry was a bad fight, then she hadn't seen him for a week while she'd been in Australia, then this morning she'd given him a hug. But from his perspective, he saw her every day and had been living with her for over a year.

Harry told her a little about the goings-on in Auror Office, then stopped talking when he came to the table holding out two plates. "Which one do you want?"

Hermione bent forward and inspected both dishes. "Is this some sort of test?"

"Kind of."

"I'm assuming I've had both of these before…?"

"Yeah."

Hermione smelled each dish and went for the green one, which seemed slightly more appealing, leaving Harry with the orange one. Harry smiled as he took a seat next to her at the head of the table. "Did I pick right? Do you like that one? I don't mind switching."

Harry shook his head. "About a year ago we discovered this new Indian place a few blocks away and ordered an obscene number of dishes, like eight or nine. We wanted to try everything at once so you wouldn't forget which was your favorite. We had leftovers for days."

Hermione laughed. "Yeah. I bet."

"Anyway, that Saag was your favorite and now, no matter what I order for myself, you always pick the Saag. A part of you remembers."

Hermione looked down at her plate, then took a tentative bite. It was delicious, but the rush of memories she'd expected to reappear in her mind as she ate this familiar dish did not come. That had been a sort of stupid expectation. "It's very good," she said, trying to hide her disappointment. "Thanks for picking it up. What do I owe you?"

"Owe me?"

"Money."

Harry waved her off.

"Oh. I guess I don't have money, since I don't have a job." Hermione looked down at her plate, embarrassed.

"Before you start thinking you're some big charity case, let me reassure you that you do have money - you do a number of jobs that pay decently well, considering, but I would never let you give me any of it - though you've offered like a million times."

Hermione cocked her head, intrigued by his mention of jobs that she did that paid money. Then she thought of that list of accomplishments Luna mentioned that Hermione had hidden from herself and scowled. Would it have been so hard to leave that one list behind? Then she wouldn't feel so useless or be surprised anytime someone mentioned her managing to be productive in this new life.

Harry, as if sensing her thoughts, said gently, "I know it's surprising to think you can get things done with your memory loss, but you're actually quite impressive, better than most unencumbered wizards. I'd made a list of everything you've done in the past two years and I think it helped you to see it every morning, but…" his voice trailed off.

This was Hermione's opening, if there ever was one, but she was hesitant to take it. She remembered her note about Harry not liking to discuss her 'one day at a time' challenge and even Luna had confirmed there was something there, though she hadn't given any hints as to what it could be. But Hermione had to know. This mystery that seemed to include Harry had been eating away at her all day. And why all the secrecy? That part made no sense.

"You mean to say I had a list of accomplishments I read every morning, but now it's gone. I hid it as part of this 'one day at a time' challenge for the month of August."

Harry dropped her gaze and focused hard on his plate. "Yeah," he replied in a strained voice.

Hermione almost stopped pressing then, almost. But her desire to get answers was stronger than her desire to avoid an uncomfortable conversation right now.

"I can tell from my notes that his new challenge has been a big mystery to me for the past few days. But I learned a lot more about it today. Apparently, it was Luna's idea."

Harry's head snapped up. He looked just as surprised as she had been. That was interesting. "Luna?" he asked. Hermione could see him making a mental note to talk to Luna later.

"Yeah. Luna," she confirmed.

"But, I thought you decided this Monday during your month-end review. You didn't see Luna Monday."

"Apparently, I did."

"When? What time?" he pressed.

Hermione shook her head. "She didn't say."

Harry was thinking as he tapped his fork on his plate. She wondered what he was trying to figure out. "Harry. Did we talk that day? I'm sure we did. What do you know about all of this?"

Harry pushed his plate away, then leaned back in his chair. He sighed heavily. "Yeah, we talked," he said flatly, keeping his eyes on his plate. "It was my birthday and you woke up really early and made a huge breakfast." Hermione saw him smile slightly at the memory.

"Then I went to work and you said you were going to start your monthly review. After work I checked in on you and we - uh - talked about what you'd learned. There was no mention of a challenge at that point - so I'm guessing Luna stopped by after."

Hermione shifted her chair closer to Harry. She was silently willing him to look at her, but he kept his eyes down. "Harry. Uh - was I upset when we talked? Because Luna said when she checked in on me I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown."

Harry closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "A nervous breakdown?" he nearly growled the question. "And then what?" His eyes snapped to hers and they were fierce and angry. "Luna swooped in and saved the day? Told you to erase everything I'd given you to make your life happier and easier and told you to embark on this bloody challenge?"

Hermione got the sense that whenever Harry met up with Luna to ask her about this, there was going to be a lot of yelling, which Hermione didn't think was fair to Luna, since Luna had said Hermione had gone more extreme with the whole thing than Luna had ever intended.

"Luna said I did it wrong," Hermione explained. "I wasn't supposed to erase everything. I was just supposed to remove anything biasing me to - I don't know - act or feel a certain way - which, honestly, I'm not sure what she meant by that. And then, I was supposed to take time to reflect at the end of each day. It was just meant to be a sort of reset for the month."

Harry snorted. "A reset? You reset every day."

"Yeah. I said the same thing."

Harry pushed back from the table and grabbed their plates without even checking to see if Hermione was done. He put them in the sink and set up a washing spell, but he didn't return to the table. Instead, he stayed at the counter, gripping the edge of the surface tightly. Hermione went to his side and carefully placed a hand on his back.

She winced when he flinched at her touch. She was regretting bringing all of this up and wished she could take it back. Harry was clearly hurting but she had no idea why.

"What's with all the secrecy?" Hermione whispered. "It doesn't make sense. Just tell me what's going on so we can fix this, whatever's upsetting you."

Harry sighed and turned to face her, leaning his hip against the counter. He reached out and placed a hand on her shoulder, rubbing his thumb along her collarbone. He kept his eyes on his hand as he said, "Honestly, it wasn't always like this."

Hermione waited patiently for him to continue. When he finally looked up at her, his eyes were sad.

"You didn't remember things but when we talked about the time you'd forgotten, nothing was off limits. Then, one day, you decided there were parts of your life you wanted to hide. And - it caught me off guard. I honestly didn't know the right thing to do. Should I tell you? Was that fair? This is actually a point of contention between our friends."

"It is?"

Harry was looking back at his hand now, which was still on her shoulder. He used it to brush her hair back, then he slowly trailed his fingers down her arm, stopping to grab her hand. "Luna and Neville agree with me," he continued. "Ron and Ginny don't."

Hermione wanted him to expand on that but could tell he wasn't going to. She wondered who she would have sided with. And what was she hiding? And why?

"When did this happen?" she asked.

"January."

Hermione raised her eyebrows. That was longer than she expected. Had this secret she was determined to keep from herself driven a wedge between her friends? She hoped not. But it was clearly putting a strain on Harry. That was bad enough. "And if I asked you to tell me now, would you?"

Harry pushed his thumb into her palm and she got the feeling he was trying to tell her something with the gesture. "Are you?" He paused to take a deep breath. "Are you asking me to tell you?"

Hermione nodded, completely caught up in the intensity of his gaze. Then, suddenly, Harry dropped her hand and turned back toward the counter.

"I'm not going to tell you. Of course you want to know right now. You're curious and can't stand not knowing the answer to every question. But when you did know everything, you didn't want to remember." Harry gave her an apologetic look. "I think I have to honor that Hermione's wishes. I'm sorry."

Hermione reached for Harry's hand. She linked their fingers together, then covered them with her other hand. "How bad is it?" she whispered.

"It's nothing bad," he replied, talking down to their hands. "Just...hard for you to come to terms with, I think."

Hermione could tell by the finality in Harry's tone that this conversation was over. She made a mental note to take copious notes about their conversation tonight so she'd never have to put him through this again. They stood there for several moments, holding hands, until Hermione said, "Harry?"

"Hmm?"

"Luna said there was a photo album I used to look at every morning."

"Yeah. I made it for you, so you could see undeniable proof that your life was varied, and full, and that you still had rich relationships with all your friends."

Hermione smiled at that. How sweet of him. "I don't know where the album is now, obviously. But I was wondering, do you have any photos of me since my accident anywhere else? I'd really like to see some."

Harry cocked his head as he considered her question. Then he pulled his hand out of her grasp and grabbed her elbow. "Yeah. Come with me."

Hermione followed Harry to the first floor where one of the bedrooms had been converted into a study. "This is my home office," he explained. Harry looked around the desk and reached to the back to grab a picture frame, which he handed it to Hermione.

"This was taken a few months ago."

Hermione studied the scene. It was Harry, Ron, and her in front of a lake. They were all smiling and after a few moments, Harry dropped her into the water. She retaliated by pulling him in after her. Hermione couldn't help but laugh as she watched the photo for several more loops.

"I love this," she said after a while. "We all look really happy."

"Yeah. We were really happy. Are really happy," he amended.

Hermione looked up from the photo at Harry. "You know what strikes me as odd about this?"

"Let me see if I can guess." Harry leaned forward and looked at the picture. "I think I know," his eyes snapped but to meet hers.

"Have I told you before? Because if so, that's cheating."

He smiled. "No. You haven't. Can I guess?"

"Sure."

"No jealous Ron?"

Hermione smiled and looked back down at the photo. "Exactly. You know me too well, Harry. It's eerie."

Harry just shrugged. "Ron has moved on. You put that in your notes, right? His dating record is actually quite prolific."

"All that my notes said was that he and I are not together and that he's in between girlfriends, or something like that."

Harry snorted but didn't say anything. Hermione looked back at the photo and after a few more moments, Harry asked, "Are you jealous?"

Hermione considered this seriously. She imagined Ron snogging someone else. Not in school, or back at the time of her accident, but now, if she were to see him today. Would she feel jealous if she saw that?

"No," she concluded as she handed the photo back to Harry. "Are there any other pictures?"

Harry put the photo down and handed her another picture from his desk. "This is the only other one I have in here. But you remember this night."

Hermione smiled at the memory. It was the night they'd received their Order of Merlins. "My memories from this night are very blurry," she said as she recalled all the wine she'd drunk.

"Yeah," Harry said with a laugh. "Mine too. Oh. I have one more recent photo." He pulled his wand out of his pocket and summoned something. A minute later, a picture frame floated into the room and dropped into Harry's hands.

"Here."

"Teddy Lupin," Hermione said as soon as she saw the picture. She, Harry, and a small blue-haired boy were eating ice cream in Diagon Alley. She could feel Harry's eyes on her and she wondered if he too, was remembering their argument from before she'd left for Australia.

When Hermione looked up at Harry, her eyes lined with tears. He shook his head. "Every time you see Teddy, without fail, your head goes there," he mumbled.

Hermione wiped her eyes with the back of her hand. "You're a Legilimens now?"

Harry ignored the question. "Hermione. We've rehashed this several times already and I don't want to talk about it tonight. I've forgiven you."

"Ironic."

"I know. You always say that."

Hermione looked at the photo again, then placed it on the desk next to the other two. She saw that Harry was looking at the photo of them getting their Order of Merlins. His jaw was tight and this time around, she was pretty sure she knew what he was thinking.

Hermione placed a hand on his cheek and turned him so he was facing her. "You've forgiven me, but have you forgiven yourself?"

He gave her a small smile. "I'm getting there."

"I wouldn't have made a difference if you'd have been there. I was determined to try anything to restore their memories."

Harry grabbed her hand and pulled it down from his face. "Yeah. You tell me that a lot. So does Ron."

"Well, it's true."

Harry continued to watch her and she was unsure what to say. Before she could decide on something, Harry pulled her into a hug. Hermione felt immediately better and felt Harry relax too. He must have needed this as much as she did.

"Is it always like this between us?" she asked. "So heavy - with me trying to forgive you for that fight and prodding you about painful secrets day after day. How do you stand it?"

"Things are rarely this heavy between us. Don't worry." He pushed her back and grabbed her arms. "Do you know what we need?"

"What?"

"A good hour or two spent heckling amateur chefs."

"That means absolutely nothing to me," she admitted.

Harry smiled knowingly. "It will in a few minutes. Come on."

He left the room and she heard him turn the telly on in the other room. She slowly made her way to the sitting room to join him but was hesitant. Was that it? Heaviness gone, just like that? Or was Harry just burying his feelings to make her feel better? She was worried it was the latter.

"Get over here, Granger! If you're late I'm going to have to dock points."

"From your own house?" Hermione asked as she entered the room.

"Ah - no - I've re-sorted you into Slytherin. It all started when you developed an obsession with green things. The color you chose for the library, the Indian food, there are several other examples. Then, I noticed you've become excessively manipulative, too."

Hermione nodded thoughtfully as she took a seat next to Harry on the sofa. "But Slytherins hate Muggleborns," she pointed out.

"They're reformed, or, at least they're pretending to be. I wouldn't say they welcomed you with open arms, but they did give their begrudging acceptance to the change."

Hermione let out a small laugh and rolled her eyes. "I think I'm okay with forgetting I'm in Slytherin. I'm going to let that one go, tonight."

Harry smiled and turned back to the telly.

"Was that the thing? What I've been hiding from myself?"

Harry elbowed her side playfully. "Yep. You figured it out. You're good."

Hermione smiled and elbowed Harry back. "Can I have some of that blanket?" She motioned down at the blanket Harry had draped over his legs.

"Sure. Here, take some." He moved an inch of the blanket onto her leg.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "I thought Gryffindors were supposed to be chivalrous. I'm over here shivering and very sad from my memory loss condition and all I'm asking is for you to share your blanket with me."

"Uh huh. There's that Slytherin manipulation I was talking about." Harry made a big show of shaking out the blanket and putting a generous amount over Hermione's legs before settling back into his seat. "Better?"

Hermione nodded and they started watching a cooking show. Hermione was surprised to find the show very entertaining. She and Harry were directing the chefs around and calling out spells they should use to make it easier to get their meals cooked in the allotted time. Harry was right, she already felt loads better. But there was still a slight ache in her chest that she couldn't quite place.

During one of the commercials, Hermione sidled closer to Harry and laid her head on his shoulder. "Is this okay?" she asked.

"What?"

"Me smothering you. I just feel...it's hard to explain. Actually, I'm sure you know why I'm feeling off and I don't want you to guess this time."

"Okay," he said simply.

"You do know, though, don't you?"

Hermione felt Harry turn his head to look at her but she kept her eyes forward. "Know what? Why you feel empty, right now?"

Hermione nodded as tears sprung into her eyes. That was the perfect word for it. Empty. Damn, Harry had become some sort of Hermione expert.

"Hey." Harry pushed her up and Hermione tried to blink back her tears before turning to face him.

"You see how the fire is casting a glare on the screen?"

Hermione nodded.

"Why don't you put it out?"

Hermione moved to grab her wand from the table but Harry placed a hand on her arm. "Without your wand," he instructed.

"I can't do that. The most amount of wandless magic I can do is Summon my wand from a few feet away."

"That's the most you could do. Try it. Really."

Hermione tried once and nothing happened, predictably. She moved to grab her wand again and Harry stopped her, again. "Actually try," he insisted. He told her to close her eyes and positioned her hand for her, then walked her through some breathing exercises. She tried two more times before she managed to put out the fire.

Hermione beamed back at Harry. "Oh, my God! I did it!"

"I know. Thanks. I can see much better now." He unmuted the television and turned back to the show. When Hermione settled back against Harry's side, he raised his arm up and wrapped it around her.

"I don't mind being smothered," he said simply before turning back to the telly.

Hermione couldn't focus on the cooking show. She was still exhilarated after having performed that complicated bit of magic. And Harry had known that that was exactly what she'd need to feel better.

"Words cannot adequately express the levels of gratitude I feel toward you, Harry," she announced.

He nodded and she thought she saw a hint of sadness pass across his eyes, but it was gone before she could wonder more about it.

The next Saturday, Hermione was sitting on her bed, chatting with one of her oldest friends.

"You know, when I saw you had a page in my stack of summaries alongside all my friends and my parents, I laughed out loud. Here, let me read it aloud to you and you let me know if anything's incorrect."

Hermione summoned the stack of parchment from the desk and flipped to the correct page. "Okay, here it goes."

Crookshanks

Crookshanks is still alive and well. A few months after the accident, Ron, George, and Ginny scoured the forest near the Burrow for him, believing he'd ended up there after the attack following Bill and Fleur's wedding. They found him after weeks of looking but apparently, couldn't get Crookshanks to go away with them.

They brought you to the forest instead and when he saw you, Crookshanks bounded into your arms. You brought him back to London but he didn't like being cooped up indoors. After a few days, he escaped. Luckily, you didn't remember and Ron, Harry, and Ginny kept his escape from you. But every few weeks, he stopped by to say hello and would stick around for a day or two.

I suspect he knows about your condition and understands. Also, I'm sure you'd be impressed to know that after you moved out of Ron's flat into Grimmauld Place, Crookshanks knew where to find you. He's as clever as always.

"Well?" Hermione turned to Crookshanks, who was lying on the bed next to her. "Is it accurate? Would you like me to make any changes?"

Crookshanks increased the volume of his purrs and Hermione took that as a sign that the summary was just fine. She returned the stack of parchment to the desk and laid down on the bed next to Crookshanks.

"Okay, Crooks. I was thinking we could go to Diagon Alley today. What do you think?"

She turned to look at Crookshanks and he just turned over onto his back. She took the opportunity to rub his belly.

"Harry's playing Quidditch for most of the day but before he left he said there's some fundraising ball tonight. You were there, you heard. I was thinking I could go get a new set of dress robes. I checked the closet and all I have are the same formal clothes I remember from before my accident."

Crookshanks cocked his head at her.

"So, yeah. Diagon Alley. I'm scared, which is why I'd love the company. I'm not quite sure if I have a vault anymore, but we can search the house for money, or at least a vault key, before we go. What do you think?"

Crookshanks turned over and placed his head on his paws, then meowed softly.

"Yeah. I know it's not necessary to get new clothes and it would be easier to wait for Harry to return - but - I don't know - I'm not a child. I am a very capable witch who has accomplished wonderful things in adversity and this - going outside and buying something for myself - this I can do."

Hermione and Crookshanks were not able to find any money in the house, not even with the help of several Summoning Charms. Though she did find her vault key in the drawer of Harry's study. She had no idea if there would be any money in the vault, but reasoned Harry probably wouldn't keep her key if the vault were empty.

At Gringotts, the goblins glowered at Crookshanks and Hermione was ready to defend his presence there, but the goblin guiding them to her vault didn't say anything. She had set up her account just before leaving for Australia with the award money that went along with receiving the Order of Merlin and the money her parents had saved for her growing up. Hermione was expecting to see that same amount of money in the vault, maybe with a slight dent to cover her expenses since the accident.

But her vault had grown in size. She tried to quiz the goblin about where the money had come from but he stayed stubbornly silent. Hermione piled some money into her bag and she and Crookshanks went to a clothing store next. Crookshanks was not allowed inside this time so Hermione instructed him to play around on the street while she was buying her robes.

A moment later, he was chasing several mice he'd spotted across the way. Hermione took a deep breath and entered the store. The trip was uneventful and besides a small chat with the saleswitch about whether she should go with formal robes or a gown ("If I was your age and had that figure, I'd go with a gown."), Hermione hadn't had to speak with anyone.

She was currently in one of the dressing rooms trying to decide between a deep blue gown that had little sparkles along the bottom that looked like stars or a green, flowy gown with small detailing along the skirt that looked a bit like leaves.

"Did you see her? Hermione Granger?"

Hermione started at the sound of her name. She strained her ears and heard a second voice join in.

"Yeah, I did. Crazy, right?"

Hermione picked up her wand and was about to cast a Silencing Charm when she heard the first voice say, "I can't believe she lives like that. I would have poisoned myself by now."

Tears sprung into Hermione's eyes and she slowly lowered her wand.

"It's not all bad," the second witch chimed in. "She's with Harry Potter, isn't she? He's so impressive. Handsome, too. Also, I'm pretty sure he has loads of money. She certainly could have done worse than him."

"They're not together. He's, like, her keeper. I think she saved him in the war and he owes her a life debt or something."

"Ugh. Poor Harry Potter. Hasn't he been through enough? Now he's stuck with his nutter friend for the rest of his life. What I wouldn't give to show him what kind of witch he really deserves…"

The witches laughed while Hermione was fuming, barely able to contain the magic crackling angrily just under the surface of her skin. While still wearing the blue gown and holding her wand, Hermione opened the door to her dressing room and knocked on the closed door to the left.

One of the witches, with blonde hair and a horse-ish face, cracked open the door and her eyes widened in shock when she saw Hermione.

"Sorry to barge in," Hermione started in a tone that made it clear she was not sorry. "You have no idea what you're talking about and I'd appreciate it if you could stop spreading lies. Also, for the record, Harry wouldn't date either of you. He probably wouldn't even spare you a second look. And lastly, maybe I don't remember things but at least I'm a nice, caring person. If I was as foul as the two of you, then I'd seriously consider poisoning myself."

The second witch, a fairly pretty girl with mousy brown hair, tried to recover. "Oh, uh, I think maybe you misunder-"

"Spare me. I have amnesia, I'm not daft."

As Hermione turned to leave one of them called, "That's a really nice dress." And that's when Hermione decided to go with the other dress.

Hermione and Crookshanks went to lunch in the Muggle world, so Hermione wouldn't have to deal with any more gossip. Back at home, Hermione tried to distract herself from that awful conversation she'd overheard by reading while Crookshanks slept on her lap. When she heard Harry return and start a shower on the floor below, she decided to start getting ready, too.

She kept tearing up as she applied her make-up, making it extra difficult, so she gave it up and decided to leave it for the end. As she worked on her hair – re-curling as much of it as she could reach with her wand to make it look more polished before she pulled it over her shoulder, she kept glancing up at Harry's words on the mirror, which were the only thing keeping her from bursting into tears.

Being your friend isn't work, babysitting, a chore, boring, or repetitive. I love having you in my life and would be lost without you.

Just as Hermione was putting the finishing touches on her make-up, Harry called from the stairs. "Hermione! Are you almost ready?"

"Be right there!" she called back.

Harry was waiting for her in the main hall when she descended the stairs a few moments later. His eyes widened when he saw her and he broke into a warm smile. "You got a new dress," he said as he appraised her. "It's lovely. Also, green." He shook his head and smiled inwardly.

Harry looked dashing in a set of dark grey dress robes and a light blue shirt and tie. His hair was up and out of his face these days and the new style paired with his clean-cut facial hair made him look a lot older. He'd admitted to her this morning that he was still trying to shake the "Boy Who Lived" title and was trying to show the world that he was a grown man now and all that drama from his past was behind him.

His green eyes were sparkling brighter than normal as she stopped in front of him and said, "Hi. Did you have a good day?"

"Yes. My team won. How was your day?"

Hermione tried to make her face blank, but she wasn't quick enough. Harry picked up a hand and stroked her cheek, his eyes filled with concern now. "What happened?"

"It's nothing." Hermione tried to turn away but Harry caught her arm.

"Tell me."

Hermione waved him away. "It was just these stupid witches at the store. I overheard them talking about me and they were nasty. I shouldn't be letting it get to me."

Harry's jaw tightened. "What did they say?"

Hermione shrugged, trying to play it off as nothing. "They just said if they were me, they'd kill themselves."

Harry sighed, then closed the distance between them. He raised his hands to her face and began gently stroking her cheeks with his thumbs. "Hermione. Your life is 1000% worth living. You're healthy, capable, beautiful, powerful, brilliant, beautiful-"

"You already said that one," she pointed out.

"Well, you look really good right now."

Hermione smiled, then leaned forward and dropped her head against Harry's shoulder. "I'm sorry. I know you're right. I just - it's hard because I don't get any time to get used to this condition. I have to start over each day."

Harry pulled a hand up and began rubbing the top of her back. "I know. And when idiots add their views into the mix, it's especially hard."

Hermione hummed in agreement.

"Do you know what you told me, once?" he asked.

"What?"

"You said you hated the view many people have that just because someone is a little flawed, they shouldn't be alive. You said that's simply not true. The conversation was sparked by an Auror who lost both his legs, last year. He was severely depressed and tried to off himself a few times. He's much better now and has learned that there's a lot more to life than walking around on your own legs."

Hermione nodded but kept her head down. She wasn't ready to let go of Harry yet.

"During that same conversation, you brought up Neville's parents. They've gone completely mad, but they still love each other and seem happy. And they know when Neville visits and when he doesn't. You pointed out how you didn't think their life wasn't worth living."

Hermione lifted her head and looked at Harry. "But I don't remember my life, Harry. I don't want to die, I agree with you there, but I can't live the life I'd always wanted for myself this way. Can you really live meaningfully without remembering it?"

"Yes," he said insistently. "And, also, you do remember. Maybe not in the traditional sense - but you know. Believe me, I've been with you the whole time. You aren't the same person now you were six, twelve, or eighteen months ago. You're changing, growing, living - and it's worth it."

Hermione smiled. She felt a little lighter as the weight of the words she'd heard earlier finally began to leave her.

"Did you get any names? Or can you give me a description of these witches? Something I can use to find them and, you know," Harry raised his eyebrows menacingly.

Hermione leaned back and crossed her arms. "One of them seemed really interested in showing you a good time. If you do find her, are you planning to ask her out?"

The look on Harry's face made Hermione laugh out loud. He smiled when he saw her laughing, then held an arm out for her. "Ready?"

Hermione nodded and placed a hand on his arm so he could Apparate them away.

Hermione lunged herself at Ron as soon as she saw him in the ballroom. "You're safe! Thank God," she cried as she tightened her arms around his neck.

Ron snaked his arms around her middle and picked her up. "You greet me like this every time and I love it every time," he said as he kissed the side of her head.

After he put her back down on the ground, he placed his hands on her arms and took in her appearance. "You look incredible. That's a new dress, right?"

She nodded and Ron looked over her shoulder at Harry and mouthed, "Green."

Hermione turned around and saw Harry grinning. "Yes, my dress is green. What's the joke here?" she asked, annoyed.

"Come on. Let's dance," Ron said, still laughing as he pulled her to the dance floor.

After placing her hands on Ron's shoulders, Hermione took a moment to study him. His hair was a little shorter and less messy than she remembered. He'd also gained a little weight, but they all had. They'd been close to starving near the end of the war. Everything else about him looked the same. He was smiling widely at her, his blue eyes twinkling.

"Okay. Tell me why it's funny that my dress is green."

"Harry has a theory you're a Slytherin, now. And when it's up to you to pick out anything with a color, you tend to always pick green. Though, if I remember correctly, your favorite color is gold."

Hermione opened her mouth to retort when she noticed a deep gash along the back of his neck, just under his ear. She traced it with her finger. "Ronald! What is this?"

"I know. Close one, right?" he said flippantly.

Hermione pushed him back and fixed him with a stern glare. "You better not go turning into Moody."

"I bloody well plan to keep this very handsome face intact," Ron replied with a grin. He pulled her back into his arms and continued moving them around the dance floor.

"Why do you have to do dangerous fieldwork? Why can't you just do administrative stuff around the Auror Office like Harry?"

Hermione remembered seeing a note at the bottom of the summary about Harry that clarified that Ron was an Auror who worked in the field while Harry did administrative work around the office like helping with training and setting up schedules.

"I like the fieldwork," Ron shrugged. "It's fun and it's not all bad. You worry too much."

"And what about Harry? He didn't like it? I can't see him preferring working behind a desk to being near the action."

"He was really good at it, but the demanding schedule was hard for him. But he really likes the job he has now and he wouldn't have gotten it if he hadn't stepped back from working in the field."

Something occurred to Hermione then and the words she'd heard in the dressing room earlier came back into her mind. Poor Harry Potter. Hasn't he been through enough? Now he's stuck with his nutter friend for the rest of his life.

Hermione stopped in place and Ron looked down at her curiously. "You said Harry didn't like the schedule. Was that because of me?"

Ron shook his head and pulled her back into his chest. "Don't worry about Harry. He's fine, happy, content, and he loves living with you. Let's talk about something else. Tell me about your shopping trip."

"Bad topic. There were nasty, gossipy witches. Tell me about your day, instead. Did you win?"

"Ack, no. Ginny was there which is not fair. We even had her team play one chaser down and they still won."

Hermione smiled as she thought of Ginny. Hermione wished she were here. She'd loved to hear what Ginny had to say about those witches from the store.

"Hey." Ron's voice cut into her thoughts. "Do you want to tell me about the gossipy witches?"

Hermione plastered a smile on her face. "No, I'm good. Really."

Ron nodded and started to tell her a story from the Quidditch match but they were interrupted by Luna who said she wanted to re-introduce Hermione to Rolf.

"Go ahead," Ron said, leaning in to give Hermione a quick kiss on the cheek. "I'll see you later."

After passing several dances with Rolf, Hermione took a break to go to the loo. Rolf was quiet-mannered and straight-laced, not at all the person she imagined Luna ending up with. He was also exceedingly polite and seemed to have infinite patience, which probably served him well when dealing with Luna. And it was clear by the way he talked about her that he was head over heels in love with her.

On her way back from the loo, Hermione recognized Harry and Ron talking in low tones in one of the side halls. She went to join them but stopped when she heard her name.

"So…you brought Hermione tonight," Ron was saying.

"Shut up," Harry snapped back.

Hermione was alarmed by the harshness in his tone. What was going on here? She pressed her back up against the wall and turned so she was hidden by a large pillar.

"I could have brought her," Ron was saying. "I'm not dating anyone right now."

"It's hard for me to keep up with your endless stream of girlfriends," Harry replied bitterly.

Ron sighed. "I'm not going to apologize for being young and having fun like a normal bloke our age. Something you could-"

"Not now." Harry cut him off. "Hermione's so worried about repetitive conversations, but the most repetitive conversation in my life is this one, with you and Ginny."

"Why are you doing this to yourself?" Ron asked, his voice concerned.

When Harry replied, his voice was muffled and Hermione guessed he was covering his face with his hand. "I date the witches you set me up with, one date every two weeks, like we agreed, precisely so I don't have to listen to this."

Harry stormed out of the hall and marched toward the loo. Hermione pressed herself further against the pole and saw Ron reappear, but he went the other way into the ballroom.

Hermione stayed there for a while, trying to puzzle through what she'd heard. Ron was upset because Harry had come with Hermione tonight. Why? He didn't seem jealous, just concerned for Harry. And Harry said he'd agreed to go on dates every few weeks to shut Ron up. Why?

"Ah, Hermione."

Hermione jumped and turned to find Kingsley Shacklebolt standing in the hall. "Oh. Uh. Hello...Kingsley," she added quickly. Then, she wondered if that was too informal when she caught sight of the familiar insignia on his robes. "I mean, Minister. Right?"

"Don't worry about formalities with me. I wanted to tell you that there's another case in the office you might be interested in. There's a poor witch being tried for defending herself against her husband. He's a Pureblood and she's Muggleborn, so you know how that can go and without his support she can't afford a lawyer. It's the type of case you've seen before. And won," he added with an encouraging smile.

Hermione had no idea what to say. Kingsley obviously had previous interactions with her and was asking her to do some work. But even if she agreed now, she wouldn't remember agreeing. He had to know that. And was he implying she should serve as someone's lawyer? She'd be awful at that, wouldn't she?

Just then, she felt a hand around her waist. "Hello, Kingsley."

Hermione let out a sigh of relief when she saw Harry. He looked down at her and winked.

"Harry. I was just telling Hermione I have another case. I'll send over the details with an owl Monday."

"Perfect. We'll look for it."

"Also," Kingsley leaned in closer so as not to be overheard. "I needed to meet with you about a sensitive matter. Will you be in the office Wednesday?"

Harry shook his head. "I was planning to work at home this Wednesday, but I can stop in for a few hours. I'll check with your assistant for the best time."

"Perfect. I'll leave you two alone." Kingsley patted Harry's shoulder and nodded to Hermione before going in the direction of the loo.

Harry turned to face Hermione but didn't take his hand off her waist. "Hey. Where have you been?"

"Oh. Dancing with Rolf. Then, uh, Kingsley found me. Is that - um - ?"

"You work with the Magical Law Enforcement office regularly," Harry explained. "You help with the cases assigned to Ministry-appointed lawyers, since they usually don't get much attention. You do pretty much all the job of a lawyer without actually being one. I have a giant stack of legal texts and binders about it in my office. I'll show you after he owls."

"And Kingsley, you, we, trust him?"

Harry nodded. "There's still corruption at the Ministry, but not as bad as before. And Kingsley is one of the good ones. If you want, I can remind you about it in the morning so you can review the legal texts before he owls."

"I can make a note for myself. You don't have to do everything for me," she replied. The words came out harsher than she'd meant them to.

Harry stepped back and dropped his hand from her waist. "Right," he said, looking a little wounded.

Hermione was about to apologize, but before she could he held out his hand for her and bowed slightly. "Will you dance with me? You're my date, but I've barely seen you all night."

Hermione thought of his conversation with Ron again. Harry looked fine, happy even, and all the anger and bitterness she'd heard in his tone earlier seemed to be gone. "Of course," she said as she placed her hand in his. "Sorry about that. I didn't mean-"

"Don't worry about it."

Harry guided her back into the ballroom and they passed most of the first song in silence. Hermione's mind kept replaying his conversation with Ron, then she remembered what the witch at the dress shop had said about her. About how she was holding Harry back. She wanted to ask Harry if she was keeping him from dating, and if that was why Ron was upset, but she was too afraid to hear the answer.

So, instead, she asked another question she didn't want to know the answer to. "Are you there every morning?"

Harry looked down at her, confused. "Where?"

"At Grimmauld Place, waiting for me. Waiting to see me and reassure me that everything is going to be okay."

"Yeah," he shrugged. "The letter is good and all, but it's also good for you to see someone you trust, first thing. It starts the day off right."

"And that's why you're not a field Auror? Because the schedule didn't give you the flexibility to always be there for me."

"Who told you that? Ron?"

"Just tell me. Am I keeping you back?"

Harry grinned at her. "Yeah, you're keeping both of us back. You're very hard to move around this floor. Can you stop trying to lead?"

Hermione sighed and knew she had her answer. She was the reason he'd never become an Auror, like Ron. So, her accident hadn't just crushed her dreams, but Harry's as well.

"Hey."

Hermione looked up and saw Harry looking at her seriously.

"Has it occurred to you that maybe it was important for me to see you every morning not for your benefit, but for mine?"

Hermione shook her head. "What?"

"Have you considered that maybe in this world where people I don't know want to shake my hand, pat me on the back, and tell me things about myself they've decided are true - but aren't - that maybe it helps me to start my day with someone who loves me for being Harry, and not Harry Potter?"

Harry pushed Hermione out into a twirl and when he pulled her back into his chest, he held her closer so that their faces were just inches apart. When he spoke again, it was a whisper.

"Have you thought that perhaps - in this life that is filled with a lot of sadness where I mourn all the things we've lost and still struggle with flashbacks and nightmares - that maybe, I like starting the day with someone who's thrilled to see me, every time?"

Hermione's eyes were filled with tears by now and she dipped her head into the crook of Harry's neck as they swayed in place. As she stood there, trying to swallow back tears so as not to mess up her make-up, she caught a whiff of Harry's scent and was overcome with a feeling of familiarity. The sensation filled her up unexpectedly (since she hadn't realized until then how empty she'd been feeling), and she was hit with a rush of emotion that made the tears she'd been struggling to hold back finally fall.

When Harry realized she was crying, he pulled her into his chest and began walking her out of the ballroom. He took her to the dark hall, where he'd been talking with Ron earlier and wordlessly offered her a handkerchief.

"How do you always know the exact right thing to say to make me feel better?" Hermione said as she wiped away her tears.

"This is you feeling better?" he joked.

Hermione gave him a small, teary smile.

Harry leaned his back against the wall and smiled over at her. "I've had loads of practice," he said, answering her previous question. "Whenever I say the wrong things, you forget, and then I get a chance to tweak it the next time until I get it just right."

Hermione's face fell and Harry nudged her side. "That was meant to make you laugh. I'm kidding. We've never had this conversation."

Hermione leaned against the wall next to Harry. "I find it hard to believe I've never brought up the topic of you not being an Auror because of me."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "You've brought this up before but I've never answered it quite like that."

Hermione sighed and leaned her head back against the wall. "Oh, Harry," she whispered. "It's so much. So much to come to terms with in such a short amount of time. So many facts, but more than that, so many emotions. I can't even - properly explain."

Harry turned to face her. "You don't have to explain. I know."

Hermione kept her gaze on the ceiling. Maybe he thought he knew, but how could he possibly understand?

"I know what it feels like to have no control over your life," Harry continued. "To have to put your trust in things and people that you have no way of verifying, but go along with because you have no other choice. To feel like other people are pulling the strings. I know how hard it is and I know the only way I got through it was with friends who loved me unconditionally and helped me as best they could. You did it for me, now it's my turn. And I love helping you, truly."

Hermione turned to look at Harry. They stood there for several moments, staring at each other as the music played faintly from the ballroom, but Hermione wasn't hearing it anymore. Harry reached out and took her hands and she linked their fingers together. Her heart was pounding hard and as she looked in his eyes, she could see that he did understand her. This was a feeling she hadn't received from Ron.

Ron was sorry for her. Ron loved her and wanted her to be happy. But Harry, Harry knew. Maybe that was why she lived with Harry and not Ron.

It was Harry who broke the trance. If it had been up to Hermione, they probably would have stayed there staring at each other while holding hands for the next hour. Harry stepped back and dropped one of her hands as he sighed heavily. "Come on. We both need a drink," he muttered, pulling her back to the ballroom by the other hand.

"Or ten," Hermione added as she followed him.

Harry turned back, smiling over his shoulder. "Is this going to be a repeat of the night we got our Order of Merlins?"

She shrugged. "Would that be so bad? It was a fun night."

Hermione was not drunk, just pleasantly tipsy. A fact she'd just informed Ron of for the tenth time.

"Yeah, yeah," he muttered as he pulled Hermione toward the Apparition point. He had both Harry's and her cloaks draped over his arm and looked behind him, probably to ensure Harry was following them.

"I know you're not drunk, but the smell of your breath says otherwise and I'm not going to let you splinch yourself." When they reached the end of the hall, Ron turned to Harry and said sternly. "You stay here. Actually-" he reached into Harry's pocket and grabbed his wand.

"Hey!" Harry began to protest.

"If you weren't drunk, you'd have stopped me. I'll come back for you."

Ron grabbed Hermione's arm firmly and turned on his toe. They reappeared on the doorstep of Grimmauld Place. Ron removed the wards quickly and told her to go inside and wait for him to get Harry.

Hermione hid behind the door and when the boys appeared in the hall, she jumped out and yelled, "Boo!"

She was sure she hadn't really surprised either of the boys, but Harry still let out an elaborate, girlish scream, which caused Ron to roll his eyes and Hermione to laugh so hard, she nearly fell over and had to catch herself on the wall.

"It's not fun being sober when your friends are drunk," Ron grumbled. "Why didn't you tell me you were planning to drink half the bar? I would have joined you!"

Harry had crossed the hall and pulled Hermione up off the wall. He was half holding her up but she could feel him swaying on his feet and kept a hand on the wall to balance both of them. "We didn't drink half the bar!" Hermione argued. "Only, like, a quarter."

She looked over at Harry and he nodded eagerly, then leaned into her and added, "Maybe a third."

Hermione burst into laughter again.

"Bloody hell. Okay, you two, off to bed. Can you make it up these stairs or do I need to levitate you?"

"We can walk up the stairs!" Hermione countered. "We're not drunk just-"

"Pleasantly tipsy. Yes, I've heard. Go along then. Show me how well you can walk."

Hermione extricated herself from Harry, then went to the stairs and started walking up, slowly, taking it one step at a time. When she was halfway, she turned to Ron. "See?" She raised her hands over her head. "No hands!" She went to take her next step and nearly fell, but caught the railing again, just in time.

Ron nodded and said sarcastically, "Very convincing. Let's do it with our hands, this time. Okay?"

Hermione stuck her tongue out at him.

Harry had an easier time making it up the stairs. When he reached her, he placed a steadying hand on her arm while also gripping the railing tightly. "I've got her. See?" he said over his shoulder.

"Okay…" Ron said reluctantly. "Don't do anything you're going to regret," he called after them as they continued to slowly make their way up the stairs. "And I say that to Harry, since, well, Hermione won't remember."

Hermione thought this was exceedingly funny and began to laugh again as she took the final few steps to the top of the landing. She turned around and gave Ron a proud smile. "I made it!"

"Yes. Just two more flights to go. I'll see you two at the Burrow tomorrow. Drink water!"

"Yes, yes. Bye, Ron!"

"Bye!" Harry added.

Once Ron had closed the door behind him, Harry turned to Hermione and asked seriously, "Do you think we can make it up these stairs without dying?"

Hermione laughed again. "Wouldn't that be ironic? The boy who lived; killed by a flight of stairs."

Harry had wrapped his arm around her and was guiding her across the hall to the next flight of stairs. "I don't think they'd cite the stairs as the cause of death," he said thoughtfully. "Perhaps the excess amount of whiskey flowing through my veins. Or maybe the witch who fell on top of me and crushed my wind-pipe."

"Shh." Hermione pressed her finger to his lips. "I need to concentrate." Harry nodded seriously and they were quiet as they ascended the next flight of stairs.

"Whew!" Hermione said when they reached the top. "Here we go. Harry Potter safely delivered to his room. No untimely deaths tonight."

Harry shook his head. "No. I need to deliver you to your room. I'm the chivalrous Gryffindor and you're the lady."

Harry motioned for her to go ahead of him on the stairs. "And as I was informed by Ron," she said slyly, "I'm a Slytherin now."

Harry let out a laugh. "Yes. Exactly."

Now that they both had the hang of it, they made it up the next flight of the stairs without issue. When they reached Hermione's door, Hermione turned and leaned with her side against the wall. Harry stood opposite her, mirroring her pose.

"Hi," Hermione said softly.

Harry smiled back at her. "Hi. That was fun."

"It was."

Harry reached out and grazed his hands along the skirt of her dress. "You look beautiful. Have I told you that?"

She nodded. The laughter from just a few moments ago was gone and everything was serious now. She was reminded of that time at the end of a first date when both people are wondering if they're supposed to kiss each other. As soon as the thought entered her mind, she had an overwhelming urge to lean in and kiss Harry.

That sobered her up. She straightened quickly, which caused her head to spin, making her stumble. Harry caught her arm. "Are you okay?"

"I - yeah."

Harry placed her back on the wall and as he pulled his hand away, she remembered the conversation she'd overheard him having with Ron. How inconvenient. She'd been drinking tonight in an effort to forget that conversation and here it was, back in her mind.

And because her head was spinning from too much wine and the sight of Harry's eyes boring into hers was intoxicating, she said, "You don't date because of me."

Harry stepped off the wall. "What?"

"I heard you talking to Ron," she explained. "He was annoyed you brought me tonight and he wants you to date. But you don't want to. Why not?"

Harry shook his head and leaned against the wall again. He rested his head against it and sighed. "Are you really asking me this right now? Dressed like that, when I've had three - maybe four too many drinks?" He paused to give her a sad smile. "If you're not careful, I might just tell you the truth."

"Tell me," Hermione whispered.

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath.

"I'm going to forget in a few hours," she pressed.

Harry opened his eyes and said, "Slytherin," under his breath before taking a step closer to her. He picked his hand up and traced his finger along her jaw.

"Are you going to tell me what that conversation with Ron was about?" she breathed.

"I'm telling you right now. Don't pretend you don't understand."

Harry moved his finger down her neck, along the neckline of her dress, then over to her shoulder before feathering it down her arm. Hermione's entire body lit up in reaction to his touch. When he reached her hand, he picked it up and placed a soft kiss on her knuckles.

"You like me," she said tentatively.

Harry raised his free hand and placed it on the side of her neck, snaking his fingers behind her head and burying them in her curls. "Like you?" he said softly. "I wish. I love you, Hermione."

Harry let the words hang in the air for an uncomfortable amount of time. Hermione was speechless. She had no idea what to say to that but she wasn't surprised by his admission. Hadn't he been telling her this all night? With every look, every touch, even his words of reassurance from earlier.

"I love you," he repeated. "Utterly, completely, painfully. And I can't stop. Even if I could figure out how, I don't think I would. You're...everything."

Hermione looked down. She couldn't hold his gaze anymore. The raw emotion she saw in his eyes seemed closer to torture than love and she shouldn't bear the thought that she was the one causing that pain.

Harry dropped his hands and took a step back. "That's the big secret," he said simply.

"What?" she asked, looking back up at him, confused.

"The dark, scary truth that you forget every time you learn. The thing that nearly drove you to a nervous breakdown and caused you to start this bloody challenge."

"So, I - I've known this?" Her head was spinning and she didn't know if it was from the revelation or the alcohol.

Harry was back in front of her, touching her again and she immediately felt more at ease. He had placed a hand over her heart. "You know it here. Come on, Hermione. You weren't surprised."

Tears started falling down her face. She grabbed his hand and dropped her head. She had already known. He'd obviously told her before and although she'd forgotten the truth in her mind, it had settled in her heart. How many times had it happened?

And he said she let herself forget. She could tell that tore him apart. Hermione was hurting him by forgetting. Why? Why would she keep hurting him over and over again? No wonder Ron was angry when he saw them at the ball together. He must know.

"I'm not going to forget," she declared. "I don't want to forget."

"Then don't." Harry leaned forward and placed a soft kiss on her cheek. "I dare you to remember," he whispered. "But I know you won't." She could feel his warm breath on her face and it sent chills down her spine.

The next moment, he stepped back, leaving her feeling cold and alone. He gave her a curt nod, then turned toward the stairs. He wasn't walking in a straight line but wasn't stumbling as much as earlier. She guessed their conversation had sobered him up, as much as it had her.

Hermione watched him disappear down the stairs, then listened as he reached the hall below her, crossed to his room, and closed the door of his bedroom behind him. She let out a long breath she hadn't realized she'd been holding.

Then she raised her hand to her cheek and pressed her fingers to the spot where he'd kissed her. She could almost feel his lips there and she was sure that tomorrow, long after the memories of the moment had disappeared, the feeling of his kiss would remain.

A/N: Oh man. Poor Harry. Thanks for supporting this story, even though this part is a bit sad. Thanks also to my beta reader, Lancashire Witch.