"This is madness," Harry said.

The young wizard raked a hand through his already messy hair and continued pacing restlessly in front of the desk at which Hermione was working.

"Yes, you've told me so four times in the past ten minutes," Hermione said with a little exasperation. Her sarcasm was due in equal parts to Harry's persistence in doomsaying, her impatience to regain her memories, and the stifling heat in the Potions classroom. Some prankster must have performed a spell that would leave the room baking like an oven over the weekend, intending for it to be an unpleasant surprise for Professor Snape on Monday morning. She and Harry had set up their base of operations here nearly an hour ago (the only other place they'd have access to all of the ingredients they needed was the infirmary, but Madame Pomfrey's presence there ruled that option out), and they were both already soaking with perspiration. Now, Hermione took a break from her creation long enough to scoop her long, thick hair up off her neck and secure it quickly into a messy bun near the top of her head, where it rested in a little ball of heat against her scalp.

Marginally cooler, Hermione grasped a test tube containing a dull, brown liquid and measured a small amount of it out. She added the measurement to one of the two beakers at the center of the table. One was the base for the Mesonychoteuthis Hamiltoni Essence Antidote; the other was the base for the Excido Remedy, which Hermione had decided would be wise to have on hand in case things didn't go as well as she hoped.

"Well it is!" Harry insisted. "I can't believe I'm still here watching you do this. I can't believe you're seriously considering fatally poisoning yourself so you can get a memory back!"

Now Hermione pinned him with a look. "Well it's a pretty important memory, don't you think? Besides, you're getting all upset over nothing." She indicated the potion she was currently mixing. "The Mesony…Mesonychoto…oh, you know what I mean, is perfectly safe – "

"Yeah, except for the point zero zero zero three percent of the population it turns into a weird, squishy hybrid squid thing," Harry interjected.

Hermione went on as if she hadn't heard him, " – and if worse comes to worse, and it doesn't work, well… If that happens I can always take the Excido Remedy again. I have to at least try it, Harry. It's too important not to."

Harry didn't like this plan. He really didn't like it. He had visions of trying to haul a transformed Hermione up to the hospital wing, with her many tentacles waving wildly. He thought furiously, trying to find a way to make her see reason.

"How can you do this to Ron?" he rounded on her. "I don't think he'd want you taking this risk, Hermione. After everything he went through to save your life…what if the worst happens? Or what if it doesn't work, and he's got to stand by and watch you lose your memory all over again when you have to take the Excido Remedy? Do you really want to put him through that again?"

Now he had Hermione's attention. "No," she said resolutely. "I don't want him hurt. And that's why we're not going to tell him."

Harry squinched his eyes shut and pinched the bridge of his nose between his thumb and forefinger. "You two are killing me, you know, with your 'We can't tell Hermione' this, and your 'We're not going to tell Ron' that."

Now Hermione looked at him sympathetically. "I know we've both put you through the wringer this past week, Harry, and I'm sorry. I wish there was another way, but there isn't, and I can't do this on my own. Once the potions are ready except for the last ingredients, we can go back down to Hagrid's under your invisibility cloak, and let the Lotus Lepus bite me. I wish we could have just brought it back up with us, and do it all right here to save time, but we don't have a cage. Plus, I don't want to put you in any danger through prolonged exposure, so it's safer to just go down than to try and transport it anywhere.

"Anyway, the poison takes effect nearly instantaneously, and I'll have a hard time staying upright. I'll need your help getting back up here to take the antidote."

Harry shook his head disbelievingly. "Do you hear yourself?" he wanted to know.

"I can't do it without you, Harry," Hermione said gravely. "You're in a position to stop me, but I'm asking you not to."

Now she asked him earnestly, "Don't you see? If this works, it would solve everything!"

"If it works," Harry pointed out. When Hermione only gazed back at him hopefully, he sighed hugely and gave in. "I can't believe I'm going to help you do this."

Hermione beamed at him, so happy that she came from around the desk and threw her arms around his neck. "Thank you, Harry. I mean it. This means so much to me."

"Don't thank me," Harry said crossly, as he half-heartedly hugged her back. "I'm an idiot for letting you talk me into this. If you turn into a colossal squid, Ron's going to kill me."

………

Using the invisibility cloak that he'd inherited from his father wasn't quite the thrilling adventure it once was. For one thing, every time he used it he seemed to be taller, and he spent the whole time hunched over enough so that his disembodied feet weren't visible to anyone he might pass. It was too physically uncomfortable an experience now to be really enjoyable.

In addition, he'd donned the cloak this time pretty much against his better judgement. He still felt that this plan of Hermione's was extreme, but once she became fixated on something there was no talking her out of it, as he and Ron both knew from vast personal experience. It was better that he go along to try and keep her from getting into even more trouble than she had planned for herself.

The vague thought that many of his previous exploits with the invisibility cloak had also been for less than wise pursuits crossed his mind, but since those were all things he'd needed to do, he was unable to examine the comparison objectively and so settled his mind by discarding it.

And so it was that Harry found himself making the journey to Hagrid's hut for the second time that day. This time he made it in a painful stoop; the scarcity of coverage the cloak provided forcing him to shuffle along directly behind Hermione, running into her frequently. The jostling caused him a bit of consternation, as it was much harder to ignore the fact that Hermione was a pretty, shapely girl when her body kept bumping into his. Of course, he didn't feel that way about her emotionally - she was one of his best friends! - but he was still a member of the male gender, for Merlin's sake.

Still…Harry thought it would probably be a good idea to tally this one up under the "Things we're not telling Ron" category.

Glad that she couldn't see his embarrassed flush, Harry gritted his teeth and forced his thoughts back to the matter at hand…namely, Hermione's act of raving lunacy.

Hoping to avoid contact with Hagrid all together – she felt quite guilty for the way she'd manipulated information out of him earlier – Hermione led Harry around the hut toward the area Hagrid called his 'back yard'.

Since his hut stood at the termination of a clearing that gave way to the Forbidden Forest, Harry thought that Hagrid might consider the woods part of his 'back yard', too. Fortunately for them, however, he and Hermione wouldn't have to brave the thick wood. They found what they needed in a large pen that was nestled right up against the rear of Hagrid's house.

The Lotus Lepus sat very still on its haunches, ears swiveling delicately toward the sound of their approach. Unlike humans, and other creatures that spent more time as predators than prey, hares have wide-set, nearly opposite-facing eyes. Evolution had designed this feature to allow them (and quite a few other species) to be able to see danger coming from both the left and the right. When it could spot no movement at all in its impressively wide field of vision, the Lotus Lepus seemed to relax.

Unseen, Harry and Hermione were able to creep directly up to the side of the pen. Now that they were moments away from carrying out Hermione's plan, Harry's second thoughts were getting the best of him. "I can't believe you're actually going through with this," he hissed, shaking his head. "I can't believe I'm letting you."

"Relax," she whispered back, "it'll all be over, soon." Quickly, before Harry could change his mind, Hermione snaked a hand out from beneath the cloak and reached into the cage.

The sudden appearance of Hermione's hand out of thin air startled the Lotus Lepus, and its reaction was typical of any wild creature: it bit her.

Hermione gasped, instinctively yanking her hand back. But her mission had been accomplished. She didn't need to see the two fresh puncture wounds on her forefinger to know the Lotus Lepus had injected its poison into her bloodstream…she was already feeling sleepy.

She sagged. Cursing, Harry wrapped an arm around her waist to support her. He frantically draped the cloak so that it fell seamlessly around them, again, and turned back toward the school. Now that it was done, he felt an overwhelming sense of urgency to get back and get the antidote into her before she succumbed to the poison.

Hermione yawned, and tried to keep up with Harry. It was difficult to think past the sudden bank of fog wrapped around her brain, but she struggled to remain focused on the objective, and get back to the Potions classroom.

The trek back from Hagrid's hut was long and arduous, and took an eternity. Hermione simply couldn't move very fast when she was battling sleep with every step. She walked as if intoxicated, weaving drunkenly back and forth. Harry had his hands full keeping her going in the right direction, and realized she hadn't been kidding when she'd told him she couldn't do it on her own. He spared a moment to be thankful she was too smart to try it without help.

Finally, they made it back to Hogwarts. They passed only a few students in the corridors…luckily, the Potions classroom was not in one of the more heavily trafficked areas.

It seemed to Harry as if ages had passed since they'd left the classroom, but he was surprised to discover it had really been less than an hour. The room was still empty, still hot, and the potions remained undisturbed on the table in front.

Harry lurched with Hermione into the classroom, attempting to close the door with his foot. After a moment of fumbling, however, he cursed again and gave up. Leaving it open a crack, he stumbled forward with Hermione, finally able to let the invisibility cloak slip off of them.

Feeling as if her legs were made of putty, Hermione was grateful when Harry dumped her into the chair before the table that held the potions. Either the repeat exposure of the poison was effecting her more quickly this time, or Harry just wasn't as wonderfully distracting as Ron had been.

Wait a minute…as distracting as….

When Harry bent to assess her status, he was startled to see that her cheeks were wet. Worriedly, he wondered if she was regretting her impulsive actions. Damn it, he knew he should have tried harder to talk her out of it!

"Hermione?" he asked.

But when she looked up at him, her eyes were full of wonder, as well as tears. "Harry," she breathed, a tremulous smile quivering on her lips. "Oh, Harry. I remember!"

Despite his anxiety, Harry couldn't resist returning Hermione's wide, joyous smile. She was completely transformed. While it was clear that sleep still tugged at her, she looked as if she could defeat the poison in her blood through sheer happiness. There was a light in her eyes that Harry had never seen before. When she closed them tightly, concentrating intently on the memories that came trickling back to her, more tears slid down her cheeks. "Oh, Ron," she whispered, remembering.

"This has got to work," she said, opening her eyes again and focusing on Harry. "It's got to."

"Right," Harry said, moving to the potions on the table. He indicated the beaker containing the dull, brown liquid. "This is the squid one, right?"

Hermione's smile dimmed a little, nervously. "Let's not call it that right now, what do you say?"

Harry admired her ability to joke in the face of the risk she was about to take. His own nerves were on a razor edge. He glanced at the stock of ingredients still left from what she'd gathered. "All right," he said, ready to start mixing, "which one's s the last ingredient?"

Hermione battled a yawn and pointed to a test tube containing a black substance that looked like ink, to Harry. "It's pre-measured," she managed, and he nodded, dumping it in. He mixed it quickly with a glass wand stirrer.

The potion began to bubble and hiss as the chemical reaction took place. Within a few moments it had turned frothy, and was emitting a faint, fishy odor. Hermione indicated that it was all right to lift.

Finding the glass of the beaker a little warm to the touch, Harry picked it up and brought it to Hermione. He knelt before her, offering her the potion and – for whatever it was worth – his support.

Hermione took it gravely, peering into the depths of the brew as if hoping to see there the outcome of drinking it. Finding nothing but foam and bubbles, she resolutely brought the glass to her lips anyway.

She shared a brief, nervous look with Harry, and then downed the noxious-tasting liquid.

Harry assumed it was noxious, anyway, from the face she made when it reached her tongue. She didn't let it stop her, though, and he watched with mild fascination as she chugged the entire contents of the beaker. When the last, gritty drop had been consumed, she uttered an inarticulate cry of disgust and flung the beaker down, smashing it upon the stone floor of the classroom. Harry might've laughed at her extreme reaction if he weren't so jumpy with anticipation.

He watched her closely, unsure of what would indicate a good reaction to the potion. Tentacles would be a bad sign, he knew, but thankfully he didn't see any yet. So far, at least, Hermione was beak and suction cup free.

She sat motionless in the chair, seeming to wait for some sort of response from her own body. The level of her concentration was a tangible thing; Harry could feel her silently urging the potion to work. She hovered, tormented, over the line between ecstasy and despair. The tension oppressed them, smothering them. Finally, there was movement.

She yawned.

As if she could take it back, or at least deny the irrefutable truth by keeping another yawn from escaping, Hermione's hands flew to her mouth in horror. "No!" she cried, "no…it isn't fair!" Her eyes filled again with tears, and she jumped up, racing to the table.

Harry followed her, fretting. Naturally he was very sorry it hadn't worked; he'd hoped for everyone's sake that it would. But now, with Hermione gripped by desperation, he worried about what she might do. As far as he was concerned, the most important thing now was to make certain she took the Excido Remedy immediately. It was the only option she had left. It was undeniably tragic that she would have to lose her memories again, but Harry's priority had to be Hermione's life. To his way of thinking, this was what Hermione had truly enlisted him for…to look out for her best interests and keep her safe, even if he had to go against her wishes to do so.

And so he dogged her steps as she returned to the table. He watched carefully as she frantically sorted through the ingredients. "I must have made a mistake," she said, crying. "I…I didn't measure the Essence correctly, or…or the delay was too long before we added it, and it lost potency, or…"

"Hermione," Harry interrupted. He tried to keep his voice gentle, out of sympathy for her situation, but he couldn't quite mask the urgency. "You didn't do anything wrong. I watched you and double checked everything, remember?" Here he indicated the open book Hermione had brought with them from the library, and to his dismay she turned to it immediately, frantically flipping through the pages, apparently still hoping she'd missed something.

"You followed the instructions exactly," he tried again. When she didn't respond he grasped her shoulders, turning her to face him. "You did everything you could, Hermione. But it's over, now. It didn't work…you must just be one of the eight percent it doesn't work for."

"No!" Hermione shouted, trying to pull away from him. Trying to deny his words. "We can't have gone through all of this for nothing! There's got to be another way."

Harry shook her a little. "There is no other way, Hermione. You're still poisoned. You've got to take the Excido now, quickly."

To his relief, she stopped struggling and slumped a little at the reminder. He hated to see the utter loss of hope on her face, but he was too glad that he'd finally gotten through to her to wonder at the suddenness of her transformation. "Come on," he said gently, "sit down. I'll add the last ingredient and bring you the potion."

Without another word of protest, Hermione let him lead her back to the chair. She sat numbly, and her quiet suffering broke Harry's heart. He tried to ease it as he turned back to the table. "I know how awful this is for you," he said, picking up the last ingredient for the Excido Remedy and adding it to the potion. "But if it's any consolation at all, I swear I'll never tell him. Ron doesn't ever have to know you remembered. It won't be the ideal situation, but at least he won't have to know he almost had a chance to get everything back. And maybe…maybe some day, after it doesn't hurt as much, he'll be able to tell you what happened in the woods himself."

He watched as the potion turned a bright green, and began to fizz. He remembered from when Madame Pomfrey prepared it in the infirmary that this reaction meant it was ready. He picked up the beaker, turned back toward his silent friend, and stopped cold.

Hermione was standing again. Her eyes were apologetic, but determined. And she was pointing her wand at him.

"I'm sorry, Harry," she said sincerely. "But you're better at Defense than I am, and I knew my only chance was to take you by surprise."

Harry didn't understand. The image of Hermione standing there, tired but resolute, pointing her wand at him was completely baffling. "What are you doing?" he said, dumbfounded. "I don't know how much time you have left. You've got to drink this."

Hermione shook her head slowly, never taking her eyes off him. "I'm sorry, I can't do that."

"What do you mean, you can't do it?" Harry demanded. "You've got no bloody choice!"

"You're wrong," Hermione said, her eyes flicking quickly toward "The Healing Wizard's Complete Guide to Potions, Poultices, Antidotes and Magical Vaccines", which was still resting open on the table beside him. "I've got one choice left."

Harry looked down to see the last page Hermione had flipped to before allowing him to lead her away. And just before he realized what he was looking at, he remembered thinking that she flipped so frantically through the pages because she thought she'd missed something. She hadn't. She'd been looking for another way, and now he knew. He just knew.

"Hermione, you can't!" he cried. "Are you out of your mind? Didn't you see the illustration?"

"Yes, I can," she answered calmly. "No, I'm not. And yes, I did. My choice, Harry."

"You can't be serious."

Hermione's expression was wry. "I'm deadly serious."

"Are you mad? The Phlogiston Cure only works about half the time! And even if it doesn't kill you, if it doesn't work you're dead anyway, because you won't be able to take the Excido Remedy again."

"I'm fully aware of the possible outcome, Harry," Hermione said as gently as possible. "Please believe that if I had any other choice, I wouldn't do this. But now that I've remembered…I can't voluntarily give up my memories again. I've got to exhaust my options."

When Harry looked as if he might make a move for his own wand, Hermione spoke quickly. "You almost had me convinced, you know. I think if you hadn't mentioned Ron, I would have gone ahead and taken the potion. I'm not stupid, Harry, and I don't want to die. But when you started talking about how he would never know that I remembered…and how someday, maybe when it didn't hurt so much, maybe we could still have a chance together…that's when I realized I wasn't willing to place my faith in a maybe."

"It's not worth your life," Harry declared.

Hermione never wavered. "It's worth a chance," she replied. "Now," she continued, "as you've said yourself, I'm rather low on time, at present, and I'll need much of what I've got left to mix up the Phlogiston Cure. And I'm afraid I can't do that with you in here, Harry. I know you too well…you'll try to stop me, and I can't allow it."

When Harry took a step toward her, Hermione raised her wand higher, thrusting the point at him threateningly. "I mean it, Harry! Merlin knows I never imagined I'd be pointing a wand at you, and I'm not happy about it, but I will have to stop you if you make a move."

Harry halted. He couldn't believe this was happening. He couldn't believe Hermione had gotten the drop on him. He couldn't believe what she was about to do. This was Hermione! Intelligent, reasonable, practical Hermione. His friend.

"You're bluffing," Harry said. "I know you wouldn't hurt me, Hermione."

The problem with that statement was that there were plenty of spells she could cast that wouldn't hurt him…just immobilize him. And they both knew it.

Hermione seemed to be reading his mind. When she looked at him, her expression was knowing. "You're right: I wouldn't hurt you. And…I meant what I said in the forest, Harry," she said, startling him. "I need you to remember that. And if this doesn't work, I need you to…I'll need you to tell Ron that I love him."

Harry stared at her helplessly. He couldn't make a move to stop her, or she'd take him down. But he knew if he didn't go for it, she'd herd him out of the room, lock the door, and take the Phlogiston Cure anyway. He had to at least try.

"I will," he said, and sprang.

Hermione was tired; the poison of the Lotus Lepus was trying to drag her under at every moment. And she was emotional; tears blurred her eyes, and the wand shook slightly in her trembling hand. On top of her fear over the risk she was about to take and the fear of losing Ron, she was also feeling quite guilty for holding Harry up at wand-point. Harry was hoping that these factors – in combination with the promise he threw in to surprise her – would be enough to negate the advantage she had over him by already having her wand out.

They weren't.

The next thing Harry knew, the door to the Potions classroom was slamming shut from the inside, and he himself was outside, lying on the floor of the corridor. He could vaguely recall a bright burst of light, and remembered the sound of glass breaking as the Excido Antidote fell to the floor, smashing.

Harry pounded his fist on the cold stone once, furious with himself, and then immediately jumped to his feet. He knew that behind the heavy classroom door Hermione was already mixing up the Phlogiston Cure. Even if he could get in to stop her, she'd still be dying from the poison of the Lotus Lepus. He needed more Excido potion, and quickly. His only chance was to get it, then return to the classroom and make her drink it before it was too late.

There was only one other room in the school that had the ingredients he needed, and Harry set out for the infirmary at a dead run.

………

For the first time in a week, Ron hurried.

Ever since that fateful moment in the infirmary last Saturday, Ron hadn't felt lively enough to hurry anywhere, unless it was to run away from Hermione, and all of the memories she didn't share with him.

He'd been lost in a sea of misery all week, able to dwell only upon what he'd lost. Now, though, he was kicking himself a little for the conversation he'd had with Hermione that afternoon. He hadn't been able to come completely clean with her, and that was one thing…but for the life of him, he couldn't figure out why he'd told her he was in love with someone.

It was true, of course, and he supposed he'd been trying to stick as close to the truth as possible, but when he thought about it later he realized how it must have sounded to Hermione. He knew she was the one he was talking about, but how was she supposed to know that?

She didn't, of course. And when that occurred to him, later, he realized what she must have thought…that he was in love with someone else.

This was where the kicking started. Because he knew how she felt about him. Just because she couldn't remember having ever said it, didn't mean she didn't still feel it.

And so, horribly afraid that he'd hurt her, Ron had gone looking for Hermione for the first time since all of this started. He hadn't any idea what he would tell her when he found her…at the very least, the misunderstanding had to be corrected. And as he wandered, he'd begun to wonder if maybe Harry hadn't been right all along…maybe he should have just told Hermione right away. She deserved to know the truth, didn't she?

He was mulling these thoughts over in his mind as he headed toward the library, when he heard someone running down the corridor behind him. And this was no 'I'm late for class, so I'd better hurry' trot…this was a full-out, 'get out of my way!' run. The kind of run that meant something serious.

Curious, Ron turned to see what was going on, and was utterly surprised to see Harry barreling at him, at top speed. The look on his face screamed 'Emergency!', and Ron felt his pace pick up. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong. He stepped in front of Harry to get his attention.

Harry nearly crashed into him. As it was, he veered off at the last second, trying to go around, and ended up colliding with the wall. He careened off, stumbled a few steps, and nearly fell. It wasn't until Ron caught him that he realized who he'd nearly mown down. "Let me go," he said urgently, gasping for air. "I've got to get to the infirmary."

A wave of premonition washed over Ron. "What is it?" he demanded. "What's wrong?"

Harry clenched his eyes shut. The second-to-last thing he wanted to do in the world right now was put Ron through this, but he couldn't very well keep him out of it, now. There was no way to spare him from knowing, and honestly…he might be able to help. And so he said it.

"It's Hermione. She's in trouble," he panted.

When Harry turned to resume his marathon run to the infirmary, Ron fell in with him immediately. "Is she all right?"

"No," Harry answered truthfully, rounding the corner. "She's dying."