AN: Finally, an update! This chapter was hard to write, I had a hard time describing some things involved in the story. But nevertheless, please leave reviews!

Also, THANKS FOR THE REVIEWS! I FEEL SO TOUCHED! THANK YOU FOR YOUR SUPPORT!

BTW: The first part, the one that is italicized, it is based on Hermione's point of view, but only the first part and the ones italicized.

Enjoy!

After that night, everything changed.

I can only remember bits of what had happened after Draco woke up: Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall were holding me tight while Madam Pomfrey made me drink a liquid that made me somewhat calmer… and the last I saw of Draco was his retreating back accompanied by Professor Snape.

Ginny, Ron and Harry had to go back to the common room, while Fred and George went back to the Burrow.

I stayed there the rest of the night, silence enveloping me, while I kept breathing deep breaths, Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall just watched in silence.

It wasn't easy, that night was the hardest night for me. I still clearly remember all the memories that flashed back from that horrible magical screen, and I remember clearly how Draco would scream and writhe in pain, and how I desperately tried to comfort him even if I knew he did not know I was there for him.

All my attempts were in vain, I already knew that. And until now I still think about that night when Draco's eyes finally met mine after a night of desperation, and how I knew he had forgotten me the moment he spoke.

And until now that night keeps appearing when I sleep, and I wake myself up with my own wails and pleads that had come exactly as they had the night Draco was healed.

It has now been a month, and my first month at Hogwarts was not easy.

I can not tell if it is from plain coincidence or bad luck, but all my Gryffindor classes are always, always with the Slytherins.

This means that every waking hour of the day I see him. And to increase my isolation, I see him in all his gorgeousness, with his white blond hair that reminds me so vividly of the Burrow, his silver eyes that reminds me of the locket that rests on my chest, and his scent that reminds me of summer love.

I see him all the time, laughing and smiling at the jokes of his friends, and of people who admire him. He has grown more handsome, they say. And he walks the halls as if there is nothing wrong with his life; he walks without so much as a thought of me.

His very presence has never made me feel more and more lonely.

"Hello Potter, Weasel, Beaver. It's fun to have double potions with the Slytherins, don't you think?"

He is his same, natural arrogant self again. He still calls me a Mudblood, although when he expects my retort I simply bow my head and walk away, because each time he calls me a Mudblood, I remember how he used to call me Mione, -when he was still the Draco I knew.

"Where are you going Mudblood? Off to the library again because your imaginary friends are waiting? Are they beavers!?!" He said one time as I made my way to the library.

Harry punched him for me.

Even his friendship with the Weasleys and Harry was gone.

I knew that this would happen. I knew ever since the night he lost his memory that once we went back to Hogwarts, he would forget everything that had happened during the summer. The summer fun, the summer time, the summer love.

And yet as summer passed by, I couldn't help but feel a certain pang of hope that he would still remember me even if he was cured, because I believed that it would be the ultimate test. He would remember me, remember loving me, which would be a medical miracle.

But that night, that unforgettable night, when he spoke, immediately I had no choice but to cry, because the hope I was building since the summer proved to be useless. Understand that I believed in a false hope.

And now, I see him more, I see him every time, I see him being looked at by all sorts of girls, I see him look back at the girls with his usual proud face, and I see him happy without so much as a trace of wondering what ever happened to him during the summer.

Please understand that the more I see him, the more I feel like I could never get him back.

And so I continued to dream those horrible dreams, I continued to breakdown when his smell wafted to me, or when his eyes would look at me whether to insult or to humiliate… but I have never missed him so much as that one night, when I awoke, breathing heavily, searching for Dumbledore:

"Hermione!" Ginny said. "Are you okay?! Geez Luiz you'll wake everyone up if you continue screaming like that!" She said as she turned on the lights and approached Hermione.

The other girls in the dorm were still sleeping, thanks to the Muffliato spell.

"Dum-Dum-" Hermione was saying.

"Dumb? Who's dumb?" Ginny asked bewildered.

Hermione shook her head. "Dum-ble-dore!" She said. "I need Dumbledore!"

And Hermione hastily wore her slippers and retorted every one of Ginny's protests, then made her way through the door, rushing for the Headmaster's office.

The corridors were silent, everyone was asleep. Not even Filch was awake to patrol for rule breakers, and the only thing Hermione could hear was her heart that pumped full of adrenalin and excitement.

Dumbledore… need… Dumbledore…

Finally she reached the stone gargoyles, and hastily said "Earmuff". She inwardly thanked herself for overhearing the password from Filch.

The gargoyle sprang to life, ("Why are you here so bloody early?") and Hermione rushed through the elevating steps, knocking on the door with such force.

"Come in, Ms. Granger." The calm voice spoke.

Hermione opened the door, walked inside shaking, she was trying to contain her excitement and nervousness.

"Sit down, and good morning by the way." Dumbledore spoke, smiling and handing her a chocolate frog. Hermione glanced at the clock, it was now 2:00 am.

"How did you know I would come?" Hermione asked.

Silence.

"Why did you come?" Dumbledore asked her, looking at her with his piercing blue eyes, and biting off the head of a chocolate frog.

Hermione took in a deep breath. She looked back at the Professor sitting calmly across her. She picked her words carefully, so that she didn't seem crazy or absurd, but be able to convince the intelligent man before her.

"I was dreaming, dreaming again of that night when everything happened…" She began. Dumbledore nodded in acknowledgement.

"…then I heard you, you were calling me, and somehow, I was aware that you were calling me, and so I woke up, and when I did, all I knew was that I had to go to you. You called me for a reason." She finished, waiting nervously for his reply.

Dumbledore smiled. He didn't say anything, but retrieved a curious looking silver stick from his desk drawers.

"This," He said as he flashed it in front of Hermione, "is Gistenled's Stick of Dreams." He said, ignoring Hermione's face at the sound of the weird name.

"You blow it, like a candle, and whatever you so greatly desire at the moment, will make itself be realized by whoever is in a way associated with what you desire. In my case, I wished that you would join me now, so I blew this stick, and my desire that you visit me made itself shown to you, because you are involved. And you realized this desire of mine, which is why you joined me now." He finished, caressing the silver stick.

Hermione's heart raced. It skipped beats. It was pumping in an irregular manner. Is this what can make Draco remember….?

And instantly, as though Dumbledore could x-ray her mind, he said, "This stick only grants small and simple desires. Desires that could not, in any way, drastically change the future, or the present.

It is like an ingenious new way to communicate, it is only used to let someone know one's favors, and it is up to the person if he or she will do something about it. In your case, you had a choice not to come here, even if you did realize my desire. I also vaguely remember me blowing this stick to let my mother know I wanted chocolates for my birthday… and lo and behold, she gave me a gigantic box of chocolates, sweets and cakes." Dumbledore said, with a dreamy smile on his face.

"This is also how I let some of my teachers know the new password if ever I am too lazy or tired to go and look for them." Dumbledore added with a faint blush.

Hermione nodded. "Professor…?" She wanted to ask if she could use it, make Draco wake up, tell him she wanted a dramatic sorry and come back to me scenario. She smirked.

"You will get to use it after I show you what I have to show you." Dumbledore answered her. "And in any case, what you're thinking of is way beyond subtle desires and wishes." He said, chuckling. "You can't command, nor control, you can only show, let someone know."

Hermione closed her mouth, blushing hard.

"Now." Professor Dumbledore started. "I want to show you something Hermione." He said, as he walked towards a nearby closet and retrieved a familiar looking stone basin.

He placed it at the desk, and resumed his old position.

Hermione watched in anticipation.

Dumbledore drew out his wand, dipped and circled it in the swirl of silver substance, immediately the substance swirled and circled avidly, dazzling Hermione in luring silver blurs.

Dumbledore nodded towards Hermione, and Hermione lunged in head first.

She landed at exactly the same room she was in, except someone else was there, someone who made Hermione give a short gasp.

Dumbledore landed next to her seconds after.

"…and when she reads, oh, you should see her when she reads!" He was saying, stroking his hair.

Hermione was holding her breath.

"How is she when she reads?" A second voice said, and Hermione whirled around to see an identical Dumbledore sitting behind the desk.

"Hmmm." The real Dumbledore said. "I didn't notice that's how I look like right now. I should start trimming my beard…."

Someone sighed. Hermione didn't dare believe her ears. "…she reads and she becomes the most beautiful person in the world… and she smiles and laughs and crinkles her nose as she reads… and it makes me… makes me admire her even more…" He said, stroking his white blond hair again.

Hermione wanted to faint.

"Is that why you've come here, Mr. Malfoy? To tell me how Miss Granger reads?" The pensieve Dumbledore asked.

Draco smiled. "No, not really. I just wanted to talk to you about her, I've seen you and my father converse in a dream once, and somehow I knew you were already aware of our romance." He said, his silver eyes twinkling.

"I see…" The pensieve Dumbledore replied.

"You see the wonders of the Gistenled's Stick of Dreams? Amazing! He actually responded and believed…" The real Dumbledore said.

"You do love her then?" The pensieve Dumbledore asked.

Draco shook his head in laughter and amazement. "Professor… why ask..." He trailed, his silver eyes burning with sincerity. "I love her more than I've ever loved any other girl before. I love her more than anyone could ever imagine. I love her to the point that I write for her constantly, every night, all the time." He said with his handsome voice.

Hermione swore she stopped breathing at that moment.

She felt a pat on her shoulder. She looked, and saw the real Dumbledore looking at her, a smile on his face.

She couldn't believe what she was hearing.

"You love her to the point that you write for her, constantly, every night, all the time?" The pensieve Dumbledore repeated.

Draco nodded. "She's the first one I've ever written poetry for. I love her too much that I just need to get it all on paper, to record and to make verses for her, because the time we spend together isn't enough to show her how much she means to me." He said simply.

Hermione wanted to faint now. Lord, are you there? I feel like I'm in heaven… She thought stupidly.

The pensieve Dumbledore simply nodded. Draco continued on. "She already read one, actually. I'm just not sure if she was ever aware." He started. "She read something about Jane, caused a bit of a problem actually, but she never seemed to realize she was Jane." He said.

This time Hermione had to clutch on to Dumbledore to prevent herself from fainting. She had butterflies inside her stomach by the way. She couldn't breathe.

"Jane?" Dumbledore asked. "But her name is not Jane."

Draco smiled. "Yeah, her name's Hermione Jean Granger." He smiled even more. "I just mixed up her middle name so it wouldn't be too obvious. I knew somehow she'd stumble across it, and I didn't want her to have an idea first. So I wrote Jane. But now we're at Hogwarts, and Slytherin common rooms and Gryffindor common rooms are separated, I changed everything back to Hermione." He said.

Someone was breathing really, really deeply, and really, really slowly.

The real Dumbledore looked around, only to see that the real Hermione was concentrating very hard to breathe. He smiled.

"I see… and where do you write whatever it is you write for her?" The pensieve Dumbledore asked.

Draco smirked. "In a little brown leather notebook. It's bewitched, it only reveals itself to the person it was written for. I bet Ginny couldn't see and read anything when she opened it, but Hermione could. Everything was for her." He smiled, winking at Dumbledore.

Hermione jerked. He was so handsome. He was beyond handsome.

"I see…" Dumbledore smiled. "When do you plan to give it to her?"

Draco hesitated, then answered, "I'll give it to her when it's full of all the poetry I can write for her. I'll give it to her when it is sufficient enough to give her an idea of how much I love her, and I'll give it to her only when it is full of my love for her, so that when she reads it she is reminded of me, and thus she shall never forget me." He said, looking straight at Dumbledore, so the headmaster could see that he was sincere.

"I think, it is time to go back now." A voice beside Hermione said, and soon the boy she loved was lost in a whirl of silver, and she was back at the same office again.

Hermione was too quiet to say anything. For a whole month, she suffered from Draco's coldness and the loneliness that was brought by their forgotten love. But right now, she just saw a Draco she knew before, a Draco that was full of love, of unforgotten love.

"He told me that right before the Welcome Feast." Dumbledore said quietly. "I thought it fit to show you this just now, because I believed that if I showed you sooner, you would still be very vulnerable from the recent events. I wanted to give you time… although I understand it is still, very painful." He said softly.

Hermione nodded.

"I understand why you had to call me in the middle of the night, while everyone else sleeps." She said quietly.

Dumbledore said nothing, but carefully handed Hermione the silver stick that made someone be aware of one's desires… desires and wishes that were simple and subtle, desires that did not do drastic changes to the future nor the present, because it could be regarded or disregarded by the receiver at any moment… yet wishes that when acknowledged by the receiver, gave the sender of the wish some sense of contentment.

And she understood why it had to be during the early morning, while everyone was asleep, while everyone dreams… while he dreams.

-So that there would be no distraction, and so he could hopefully receive and acknowledge the subtle wish in privacy.

And so she blew on the stick, making it know of her simple desire, hoping that the receiver would acknowledge her subtle wish…

...And somewhere inside the Slytherin dormitory, Draco Malfoy awoke, his silver eyes wide open, and he thought for a moment.

He hesitated for a moment before making any action. Should he do anything? It was just a dream….

And after some moments, Draco Malfoy sat up from bed, and started rummaging inside his trunk.

He looked for it, wondered where it had gone… and finally, after minutes of looking, he retrieved a little brown leather notebook he had not opened, read nor written on for one whole month.