At the very least, Harry's declaration distracted Hermione from her grief, for a moment. She shook her head at him impatiently. "That's ridiculous," she said. "I think I'd remember if Ron and I had ever been a couple, Harry. That's not the sort of thing I'd for…"

Her words trailed off as Harry looked at her meaningfully, and it suddenly dawned on her that there was – quite recently – a block of events that she couldn't recall. A patch of time missing from her memory. Her eyes widened as she realized what Harry's look meant…and what he was insinuating.

A shiver passed through her, raising goose bumps on her arms. He didn't…he couldn't mean…

Suddenly desperate to know what he meant, Hermione opened her mouth to question him. "What are you -"

"The corridor outside the Gryffindor common room isn't really the place to be discussing this, Hermione," Harry interrupted, shooting a sideways glance at the Fat Lady, who was unabashedly eavesdropping.

"Oh, don't let me stop you," she said, waving a hand at them as if they should pay her no mind.

Harry rolled his eyes and took Hermione by the arm, leading her away.

………

A short while later, a winded Hermione followed Harry up yet another flight of stairs. "Are we…going where I think we're going?" she panted.

Harry nodded, finally arriving beneath the trapdoor that led to one of his classrooms. He mounted the ladder and pushed the door open, helping Hermione up into the room once he'd stepped off. "It's the only place in the entire school that I can think of where no one's going to possibly come stumbling in on us," he explained.

Hermione stood up, dusting off the front of her robes as she looked around at the Divination classroom, wrinkling her nose. It had been four years since she'd set foot in this room, and she hadn't really missed it…or the arduous journey up from the castle proper. The room was chock full of divination articles…crystal balls, fortune telling cards, a container of tea leaves. The decorations were gaudy and looked like cheap theatrical props to Hermione. Her impatience with the subject – and its professor, Madame Trelawney – had caused her to walk out of a class for the first and only time back in third year.

Harry looked around too, not missing the irony. This was a room from which Professor Trelawney insisted that she could sometimes peer into the future. Now, Harry was going to help Hermione catch a glimpse of her past.

After briefly glancing around the room, Hermione ignored her surroundings in favor of regarding Harry. He could see that she was wavering between skepticism and uncertainty. He knew she was skeptical by nature, being a firm believer in fact, evidence, and what could be scientifically proven. But the intangible hope Harry offered made her uncertain.

"I don't want to misunderstand," Hermione said hesitantly, finally broaching the subject. "Are you saying that…I mean, you're talking about what happened with the Lotus Lepus, aren't you?"

Harry nodded. "I am."

"And," Hermione continued, still probing the waters, "you're saying that in the short amount of time that I can't remember…"

"You told Ron you loved him," Harry finished, finally laying everything on the table.

Hermione blushed. "I…how would you…I mean, I don't think I'd…," she stuttered.

Seeing her inability to believe, Harry started offering what she needed: evidence. "I saw it myself," he told her, stopping her mid-stammer. "After we got you back. We were in the infirmary, and you were nearly unconscious, but you said it. And Ron wasn't surprised; he knew, by that point, because you'd told him earlier."

Hermione's eyes were wide as she listened to Harry describe events that she'd been present for, but had no memory of. Even with his eyewitness account, it was difficult to believe that what he said was true. Because if it was, and Ron cared for her too, as Harry claimed, then why had he been avoiding her all week?

"And Ron told me, while we waited for Madame Pomfrey to mix up the antidote," Harry went on. "He said that you were afraid to die without ever having told him the truth, and so you told him you love him. Just like when you told me."

This last sentence snapped Hermione out of the trance she'd been in while listening to this new version of history. "When I told you what?"

Now it was Harry's turn to blush. "When you told me…oh, you don't remember that either, do you?" Harry realized. When Hermione only arched an eyebrow at him expectantly, he cleared his throat, understanding a little better, now, why Ron had chosen to keep the truth from her. It was ruddy hard to tell someone that something emotional had happened between you when they couldn't remember a word of it.

"Uh, after you were bitten, and we realized you were poisoned, I said I'd come back to get the antidote," Harry said, feeling his face burn. When Hermione nodded to show that she knew this part, he continued. "And…well, you could tell that I was feeling bad about it…having gotten you bitten and all…and I think you were afraid that by the time I got back you'd already be…"

Harry paused, surprised at how quickly the anxiety and guilt had come back to swamp him, just from remembering the moment in the woods when they'd shared that look, both of them thinking that they might not ever see each other again.

Hermione's face softened. She might not be able to remember, but she could imagine what Harry must have felt, worried that he wouldn't be fast enough to save her. And suddenly she realized what she would have told him, then…what she would have wanted him to know, if she were to never see him again.

Observing the distress on his face now as he recounted it, Hermione touched his arm, stopping him. "It's all right," she said. "I…I know what I would have said."

Harry nearly collapsed with relief. Blimey, he was no good with this touchy-feely stuff. Still, something in his heart loosened when he realized she did know, and that she'd meant it.

He straightened, clearing his throat again. "Right," he said. "So…knowing that -"

"I would have told him," Hermione realized, seeing it in her mind. "You're right…I would have."

She looked up now, the faintest shadow of a smile hovering on her parted lips. "I told him?" she asked, a bit breathlessly.

When Harry nodded, Hermione exhaled sharply, her stomach suddenly tied up in knots. "And you said he…he feels the same way?"

Harry nodded again, and Hermione's smile bloomed into one of wonder. "He loves me," she said ecstatically, and everything was immediately all right again. There was no other girl he loved. He did have the relationship skills of a mushroom! She did know him! "Well why didn't he just tell me so?!" she demanded, turning away, obviously intending to go hunt Ron down again.

Harry reached out, hooking her elbow. "Because it's more complicated than that," he said.

When Hermione questioningly turned back to face him, Harry went red again, releasing her. Oi, this was the really hard part. But he knew he couldn't just send her back to Ron with only half the story; that would be a recipe for disaster.

"You see," he started nervously, "there…uh… Well, a little more went on than just…talk."

Hermione blinked. Someone had left their textbook on the table at the front of the room, and Harry was fidgeting with it, lifting the cover, letting it fall, lifting it again. He seemed very fixated on it, and Hermione found that it was suddenly easier to watch him fiddle with the book than it was to stand there and wait for him to say what she suspected he was about to say. "How…much more?" Hermione asked, not looking at him.

Harry didn't notice that she wasn't looking at him, because he was still staring determinedly at the book as if it were the most fascinating object he'd ever encountered. "Um, quite a bit more," he said. Lift…fall. Lift…fall. "Pretty much all the more you could get, actually," he clarified. He felt that he'd be able to support his own solar system before long, what with all of the heat his head was radiating.

Hermione, on the other hand, had paled. Her heart was pounding, and all she could hear in the sudden silence of the room was the thunder of her pulse in her ears. After several long moments, she started to get dizzy, and realized she hadn't taken a breath since Harry's awkward revelation.

She inhaled now…a great, ragged breath. It helped bring her back to herself. She looked at Harry, who was watching her now, from the corner of his eye. "We…?"

Harry bit his lip, but maintained eye contact and nodded. In the face of her obvious shock, he felt like he should say something more. "Ron was afraid you'd…regret it or something. And then the antidote took your memory away entirely, and…well…"

Hermione couldn't believe it. She couldn't believe that something so monumental had happened, and she couldn't even remember it. She couldn't believe Ron hadn't told her. And most of all, she couldn't imagine how painful this past week must have been for him. The utter tragedy of the entire sequence of events struck her then, bringing stinging tears to her eyes.

Harry misinterpreted them. "M-maybe I shouldn't have said anything," he stammered. "I promised I wouldn't…"

Hermione shook her head, interrupting him. When she could speak again, she said, "No. I'm glad you did. I needed to know. God, this must have been so hard on him."

Relieved that she wasn't upset with him, Harry asked, "But now you can go find him, right? And tell him you know?"

Hermione frowned. "I know, but I still don't remember," she clarified. "Even if Ron and I got together now, he'd still remember everything I can't, and that would be…difficult. For both of us."

"Well, but what can you do about it?" Harry said. "It was either let you die, or cure you and erase your memories. There was no choice." He stopped, taking in her expression. Familiar with the pensive, calculating expression on her face, he grew suspicious. "Hermione," he said slowly, "what are you thinking?"

Hermione chewed her lip thoughtfully. "I'm thinking," she said finally, "that we need to do some homework. Come on."

………

The library was deserted. Considering that it was a Saturday afternoon, Harry wasn't surprised. Still, habit had them speaking only in whispers as he followed Hermione back into the stacks.

She led him confidently to a long aisle back near the restricted section. "Are we going in there?" Harry asked, alarmed. Not that he'd never been in the restricted section before, but his previous journey had been under the cover of night, and his invisibility cloak. He knew Hermione was determined, but he couldn't believe she'd just march right into the most forbidden area of the library in broad daylight.

"Of course not," Hermione said, relieving him of his worry. "What we need is right here."

She reached up high, prying a thick, dusty volume from its place on the shelf and pulling it down. Harry wondered briefly if the book shouldn't have been in the restricted section after all, because once she had it, Hermione held it briefly to her chest and looked around nervously, as if afraid they'd be caught with something they shouldn't have.

Intrigued despite himself, Harry followed her to one of the window-lit, secluded alcoves. Each was recessed into the wall, affording the users some privacy, and contained a table with two chairs. Hermione deposited the book on the tabletop, and opened its cover. Harry took a seat next to her as she eagerly scanned the table of contents.

When Hermione found the chapter she sought and began flipping through the pages, Harry's curiosity got the better of him and he reached out to lift the cover from the table top enough to read the title: "The Healing Wizard's Complete Guide to Potions, Poultices, Antidotes and Magical Vaccines."

Harry started to get that suspicious feeling again. "Hermione," he started.

"See, the problem was the antidote," she interrupted, finding the page she wanted. She began to read from the book; her lips silently mouthed the words as she traced her place from line to line with a finger.

"Without the antidote, you would have died," Harry countered.

"Let me rephrase," Hermione said, not looking up. "The problem was the particular antidote Madame Pomfrey used. I remember that Hagrid's book mentioned several cures for the poison of the Lotus Lepus. Surely amnesia isn't a side effect of them all."

"It isn't," Harry said, "but the Excido Remedy is the only one that's one hundred percent effective."

Hermione blinked and looked up at him, appearing impressed. "How did you know that?"

Absurdly pleased that he knew something Hermione hadn't, Harry was vague with his answer. "Oh, I just…picked it up somewhere."

"Well then," Hermione said, burying her nose again in the book, "did you also pick up the fact that the second-most commonly used antidote is ninety two percent effective?"

"No," Harry had to admit, "I didn't." But he found himself interested in learning more about it. "Ninety two, eh? That's not too bad."

"No," Hermione agreed, reading on. "And when it works, there are no side effects at all; no memory loss. However, it has absolutely no effect on eight percent of the people who drink it."

Harry frowned, remembering Madame Pomfrey's automatic refusal to use either of the other two antidotes. "But then why isn't it ever used instead of the Excido Remedy? I'd think people would be willing to consider an alternative to memory loss."

"Oh," Hermione said, making a face. She nudged the open book over a little, so Harry could see the illustration.

"Oh," Harry echoed, grimacing. "Ugh."

"Hm," Hermione said, pulling the book back in front of her. She read the caption. "Apparently that's very rare."

"Still," Harry said, looking a bit green, "now I understand why Madame Pomfrey never considered using it. What's that one called?"

"The Mesonychoteuthis Hamiltoni Essence Antidote," Hermione read. "It doesn't quite trip off the tongue as fluidly as 'Excido', does it?" She wrinkled her nose delicately. "The 'essence' – and I don't even want to know what part – is from the so-called 'colossal squid', which was first discovered in nineteen twenty five."

"Oh," Harry said, "well that explains the picture."

Hermione continued reading. "Actually, all three of the remedies have similar ingredients, and…oh, that's interesting."

"What is?"

"More on why they're never used," Hermione answered. Then she read directly from the page: "But perhaps one of the biggest reasons the Excido Remedy is exclusively used as the antidote to the poison of the Lotus Lepus, is because it is the least dangerous. The Mesonychote – ahem, yes, that one…and the Phlogiston Cure are both less effective. In addition, victims who have ingested the Phlogiston Cure can never again take the Excido Remedy."

"Why not?" Harry wanted to know.

"It's the ingredients," Hermione said, her brow furrowed in concentration. "They react to each other, and all of them have long lasting, permanent effects upon the person ingesting them. The Excido is the mildest, and as long as you take it first, you could conceivably take all three remedies in a row. But if you try to take it after ingesting the Phlogiston…"

"Yes?" Harry asked.

"You'll die," Hermione replied, turning the page. "So that's why healers always give the Excido Remedy. It's the only one that always works, and they don't have to worry about any kind of reaction. The other two antidotes appear as remedies only because they pre-date the Excido. They're never used for it anymore."

Harry pulled the book over to him as Hermione sat there chewing on her lip, looking off at nothing in particular as she mulled it all over. He stared uncomprehendingly at the unfamiliar words in front of him for a moment before he realized he was looking at the ingredients for the third antidote. The one Hermione hadn't detailed. As Harry scanned the page, he learned that it was the most unstable of all of the antidotes. It only worked about half the time, and even then it wreaked absolute havoc on the victim's nervous and respiratory systems while simultaneously 'burning' the poison out of the victim's bloodstream through a high fever.

Harry watched with growing horror as the victim in the illustration writhed in agony on a hospital bed. The man appeared to have no control over his limbs as he jerked in spasmodic response to the pain he felt, and he gasped as if he couldn't get enough air. On the edges of the picture Harry could see nurses fluttering around, but whatever they were doing wasn't fast enough to save him. The dying man shuddered one final time, and then was still.

With a feeling of foreboding, Harry slowly looked up at his friend. "Hermione, why are we researching antidotes to a poison you've already been cured of?"

When Hermione only looked back at him carefully and said nothing, Harry reached out and grabbed her arm. "I know where you're going with this, and I don't like it."

Hermione patted the hand on her arm. "It's only research," she reassured him. "What I really want to know more about is the poison itself. But the only book I've found that covers it is in Hagrid's private collection. Remember? I returned it to him before we went off looking for the Lotus Lepus that day."

Good, Harry thought to himself. He suddenly didn't want her to find out any more about the Lotus Lepus, it's poison, or antidotes that were nearly as dangerous. "So there's only one thing you can do," he said, thinking that now she would go and tell Ron she knew the truth.

"Right," Hermione said, with an enthusiastic nod. "We'll go and see Hagrid."

………

Though it was still bitterly cold outside, the snow had melted with a mid-week bout of sunshine, and they had a much easier time of getting down to Hagrid's hut than they had the previous Saturday before. Harry followed along behind Hermione, nearly dreading the visit with Hagrid because he was worried about what Hermione might learn from him.

Inside, Harry gave Fang a quick scratch behind his ears and perched on the edge of the sofa, watching Hermione warily.

For her part, Hermione graciously accepted Hagrid's offer of tea, and sat at his table as if she hadn't a care in the world. For all his anxiety over her motives, Harry couldn't help but admire how composed Hermione was. She projected a calm, nonchalant façade, when he knew underneath she was trembling with anticipation.

" – never would 'ave forgiven myself if we hadn't a' gotten to ya in time," Hagrid was saying. The half-giant was practically wringing his hands in distress over his own perceived accountability in Hermione's poisoning. "It was wrong 'a me to send you three out there after the Lotus Lepus alone," he declared.

Hermione took a sip of her tea for appearances' sake. "It's not your fault, Hagrid," she said.

"No," Harry piped in, "it's mine. She never would have been in danger at all if I'd bothered to pay attention when she was trying to tell me about the poison." He looked at Hermione grimly. "I've learned that lesson, at least."

"It's no one's fault!" Hermione said forcefully. "If anyone's to blame, it should be the author of that book you lent me, Hagrid. I read it cover to cover, and there was no mention of the disruptive field around a Lotus Lepus that prevents people from apparating. I've half a mind to write to the author and tell him how derelict he was in his duty to accurately inform the readers.

"But anyway," Hermione said, setting her tea aside and re-focusing, "I was wondering if I might get a little more information about the Lotus Lepus. There are no books about it in the Hogwarts library, and the one I've already read is obviously woefully inferior. But then I realized that no one would know more about it than the Care for Magical Creatures professor!"

Harry could have sworn that Hagrid nearly blushed from the flattery. He puffed up a little, increasing his already hefty frame. "Well…ahem…well, what is it you wanted ta' know?" Hagrid asked.

Hermione primly folded her hands in her lap. "Well," she answered, "as someone who's experienced it first hand, I'm curious about the poison itself, and the Excido Remedy in particular. For instance, how does the antidote counteract the poison?"

Hagrid settled into a protesting chair and stroked his beard thoughtfully. "Well, the Excido's an inhibitor, yer know."

Hermione put on an expression of polite inquiry. "An inhibitor?"

Hagrid nodded, and took a long sip of tea from a cup that looked quite tiny in his massive hand. "You see, all three a' the antidotes ta' the poison a' the Lotus Lepus have different ways a' stoppin' it. One burns it out a' you. That one's not much fun, I've heard. Another one…the squid one nobody can pronounce…eliminates the poison by consumin' it. What's different about the Excido Remedy is that it doesn't actually get rid of the poison."

Drawn in despite himself, Harry asked, "What do you mean? You mean the poison's still there, inside her?"

"Yep," Hagrid nodded, "it's still in there. Now, yer probably envisionin' great masses of liquidy poison just floatin' around in 'er blood stream, but you've got ter remember it t'was just a small, minute amount of poison that was injected with the bite. And the Excido Remedy just sort of…well, negates its effects."

Now he looked at Hermione. "So really, you've got both the poison and the antidote in ya' at all times. But there's nothin' ta' fear, because they counteract each other, ya' see? They cancel each other out, and so it's like you've got neither."

"That's fascinating," Hermione said, and Harry could see the excitement now beneath her unruffled exterior. "Now, you said that it's an inhibitor…is that what it does to the memories, too? Or are they…are they destroyed?"

Harry must have been the only one to catch the slight, fearful pause when Hermione spoke of her memories being erased, because Hagrid replied immediately. "Oh, aye, they're still in there, too. It's just that while the Excido's in equal er' greater ratio ta' the poison, you can't get at 'em.

"But when ya' consider the awful things that can happen ta' you with the other two antidotes, a few missin' hours isn't really such a bad thing, now, is it?"

"No," Hermione said faintly, hardly aware of what she was saying. "Not at all."

They stayed a few minutes longer before leaving, with Hermione gradually turning the conversation toward more trivial matters. Harry was sure her expert handing of the discussion was to assuage any suspicions she might have raised with her questions…much like throwing sand over your tracks to keep anyone from knowing which way you've gone.

Outside, Hermione's composure slipped, cracking open to reveal her fervor over what they'd learned. She grabbed Harry's arm and dragged him away, heading back toward Hogwarts. "Did you hear that?" she said excitedly. "The memories haven't been erased; they're still there!"

Apprehension gripped Harry in its tight claws. "I have a sinking feeling I know where you're going with all of this, Hermione," Harry said darkly, "and I'm totally against it. It's too bloody risky."

Hermione, however, saw a clear path, now. Her goal was a bright, shining star, and all she had to do was set a course and follow it.

"I can get my memories back, Harry," she said breathlessly. She stopped and looked up at him. Her hair was frizzy and out of control, and her eyes were sparkling with an excited, youthful vitality. Harry couldn't help noticing how alive she looked in that moment, and felt a chill of premonition shiver through him. Hermione didn't seem to notice. She went on, and while what she said sparked dread in him, it came as no surprise.

"All I have to do is get poisoned again."

.