Another week passes, somehow. I spend another afternoon with Weasley and in the end we have a solid plan for a few potions for his shop. The research at St Mungo's is going well, too. Preliminary results are promising and we should be able to move to patient trials soon. Unfortunately I don't think the potion would be good for her though, the witch who is always on my mind, even if she's lost her memory: the target vector for the potion is aligned to other kinds of curses.

I see Augusta Longbottom again to deliver the potions I have brewed for her, but she won't tell me anything more, saying it would endanger too much if she tried to reveal anything.

The Hair-ologist… I'm so close to figuring it all out but yet it doesn't help since I miss one tiny piece of the puzzle, it seems. I go to her again in the middle of the week, once again relishing in the feeling of her hands in my hair as all my stress from the week seems to melt away. Afterwards, I ask if she wants to have dinner. She freezes.

I haven't even thought it through, I was merely thinking about wanting to spend more time with her. I completely ignored the fact that she wouldn't see to eat, either. Somehow her blindness has ceased to register. Still, my blunder leaves me scrambling to catch up. "I was thinking of take-away again, or I could cook something, even."

To my relief she nods. "In that case, yes. Perhaps Indian again?"

I agree and execute the plan. Soon we're seated in her tiny kitchen again with a couple of dishes and hot naan. Being a wizard is definitely a plus when it comes to getting take-away. Somehow it's easy, with her. We start talking about the latest research, in Potions and Charms, and she's quick to pick up on the concepts. I tell her about George Weasley and the potions I create for him, and she even laughs when I describe the intended effects.

I feel light-headed, almost, when I leave and head for the workshop again. As if I've found something I didn't realise I had lost. A few of her comments led to new ideas for my research, new concepts I'm certain will make a difference to the potions' efficacy. Her mind seems to slot right in with mine, effortlessly picking up the pieces I offer and making them into a better whole.

Later that evening, however, I'm struck by a thought that won't let go. I know it's true, and I cannot understand how. Have I fallen for this strange witch, whose face I still cannot see, whose past is hidden not only from me but from herself as well?

It isn't until late that same night that I question why I didn't push harder at Hogwarts. Phineas knew something, he probably even knew her name, and Miss Lovegood too seemed to have more information. Was that too an aspect of the geas? Making sure no one thought to look for her, to find out the truth?

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

A few days later I hiss and mutter a curse as the brass disc I keep in my robe pocket heats up with such intensity I think it will leave a mark on my shirt. I quickly cast a stasis spell on the potions I am working on and Apparate away so fast I almost miscalculate the landing, arriving a foot or so too high.

The door is ajar and I hear some noise from inside. Pulling out my wand I carefully open the door a bit wider. I still don't see anyone.

"Why won't you treat me like you did Harry?" A male voice, rather whiny. "You have to! Mum said you owed her!" I hear something crash, the tinkle of falling glass and something heavy, a shelf perhaps.

I barge inside, wand raised, and immediately cast a Stunner at the male who falls like a log. Red hair, freckles. A Weasley. The youngest male, by the looks of it. Scanning the room I don't spot any other immediate threats, reinforce the Stunner with a Petrificus Totalus and locate the witch who has ducked behind the counter. I go to her and pull her up, anxious to see if she's been hurt.

"Are you okay?"

She nods and a quick check confirms that she appears unharmed. Before long the Weasley stirs and sits up slowly with a groan, pressing a palm to his temple. I guess he hit something on the way down, not that I care overly much.

"Snape?" he says and flinches visibly when seeing me.

Well, who else, dunderhead. "Obviously."

"What are you doing here?"

"The bigger question is what are you doing here? Clearly you are unwanted."

He looks up at me, his cheeks flushing a rather unflattering red, and flinches when I raise an eyebrow at him. I must admit, it does feel good to still wield that power over former students. Especially when they were as obnoxious as this specimen.

"Mum said she should help me out," he insists. "I was here earlier but she just wanted to wash my hair. Mum says she has to help me."

It takes all I have to remain still and calm. Occluding against Albus was never this bad, even when he was at his most obnoxious. I just want to strangle the immature, entitled idiot. "You have no right to demand anything from someone like her."

He struggles up on his feet. The boy is tall, taller than I am, and with the beginning of a beer gut. "Oh yeah? That's not what Mum said. She helped Harry and Ginny to get famous, George has the shop, but what about me? I'm slaving for my brother and have to…" He cuts himself off with a shake of his head. "Mum owes me for what she's made me do, even if it's nice and all to have all those witches, but I want fame too, Snape, and if this witch owes Mum for getting her powers then I should get something for it."

"What exactly did Molly Weasley say?" I have stepped closer, without meaning to. My wand is pointed straight at his throat.

"Piss off, Snape! I won't tell you anything. Besides, this witch isn't worth it. She's just a fraud."

He edges sideways to the door and flees. I let him go, he's not worth the trouble. A few more pieces of the puzzle, anyway, and seeing the Hair-ologist in the vicinity of the Weasley has been illuminating. Almost painfully so, and almost literally. I look at her and it is as if the fog is clearing.

"I know who you are," I breathe. She freezes, I still cannot see her face through the Glamour. I know, I just know it. How could I forget her? How could everyone forget her? "Hermione Granger. You are Hermione Granger."

She shakes her head but the Glamour slowly fades, showing her face. She's gaunt, her hair is matte and frizzy which seems rather ironic given what she does for a living, and she has dark circles under her eyes. It is apparent that she still cannot see me, however.

"I don't know who that is," she insists. "I fear you are mistaken, Master Brennus."

I shake my head even though she cannot see it. "No, you're Hermione Granger, Gryffindor, my former student, called the brightest witch of your age, always annoying me with too-long essays and trying to answer every single question. Don't you recall any of it? You called me Professor the first time I came here."

She shakes her head again and pulls herself up straighter. "No, Master Brennus. You are mistaken. Please leave."

I try to make her remember, I tell her stories of herself as a student as they come up, about her studies and her friendship with Potter and the war. It is no use. Eventually I have to admit defeat, frustrated and worried about the fact that even knowing her name wasn't enough to break the geas. She stands there, shaking her head, and just repeats that I need to leave, until I do with a last long look at her before she shuts the door and casts a Nox, making it impossible to see her through the window.

~oo~oo~oo~oo~

Something is obviously still missing, still wrong. The geas is not lifted. I have no idea what to do, and am completely swamped with work, brewing more in a week than I did in two months last year. A few days pass where I barely sleep and don't remember to eat, spending all the time brewing. I have to find an assistant, but I have no time to search for one or conduct interviews. I also don't want to go after Molly Weasley or her youngest son before having more facts. Then there are the Potters but I doubt they'll have anything more to add, even if I do remember the name now.

I try to contact her via the brass disc again but it lies passive, inert, cold against my palm. Muttering a curse I have to go back to the potions I'm working on.

As I work another thought strikes me. Miss Lovegood was one of my most… unique students, but her mind was sharp. Correcting her Potions essays was something I usually saved for late evenings after a glass of wine to put me in the right mood. Anyway, she did say something else. Say her name and proceed in the usual way, like in the old tales. What could that mean?

The next morning as I go downstairs to open there is someone outside the door already. It's Miss Lovegood, wearing a bright fuchsia-coloured hat with what I think is swan and dove feathers fastened haphazardly to the top. I raise an eyebrow at her but let her in with a nod and lead her to the office. With a wave of my wand the kettle is set to boiling, and two cups with Muggle tea bags levitate over to the table doubling as dinner table and writing desk.

Once seated she waits for me to speak.

"Miss Lovegood."

She nods. "Professor. Time is running out. Have you solved it yet?"

I pour water over the tea and sit back, pinching the bridge of my nose in a vain attempt to stave off the impending headache. "No. I know her name but that didn't help matters much."

"Her full name?" She looks at me with those large eyes and a vague smile.

That caught my attention. No… I hadn't. Did I know her middle name? "Her middle name… was it Jane?"

"Almost. Jean."

That smile of hers is unnerving. I still don't think adding her middle name would be enough to break the curse. "Proceed the usual way, you said last we met. What do you mean?"

She sips her tea. "Oh, well Professor, I think there are plenty of such examples in tales. You'll know if you look deep inside yourself, and I can't tell you more."

If she couldn't, who would? I cannot go back to Augusta at least, the Potters are out of the question, Weasley is of no use, but perhaps there is one place where I might figure it out. I nod sharply and rise, before remembering I do have a guest of sorts.

"Go, Professor. You don't have long. I'll take care of the shop for you." She has put the cup down and rises as well.

I raise an eyebrow at her again. Oddly enough I do trust her, somewhat. "Try not to scare all of them away, I do need the business."

She follows me out to the store and checks the till and shelves. "Don't worry. I'll clean out the Nargles and Wrackspurts too so you'll have more people wanting to come inside. Say hi to Narcissa from me."

I haven't told her where I'm going, but it doesn't matter much. I nod in response and swirl away in a Disapparition.