I'm pretty sure I haven't updated in a while, and I'm sorry. Kinda.

Because it turns out holding out for a week will not get me reviews, which I wasn't expecting anyways.

Still, it would've been nice, because the past week has been hell.

And no one will like this chapter because I give a few monologues that really only restate the story from their points of views, which I'm sure can't be too interesting.

So if you don't like my story, I'd love to know why.

If you do, I'd love to know why (so I can bake you a cookie and pronounce my love to you.)

Sitting in the Headmaster's office, Hermione was unsure of whether she should have told Malfoy that Dumbledore wanted to see the Heads that morning.

She was quite sure that, had it been Dumbledore's intent to invite the both of them, he surely would have informed Malfoy himself.

Wouldn't he?

Hermione shivered. She hoped not.

Dumbledore, who had left after momentarily asking her to wait while he attended to an errand, had not given Hermione any hint of why she was there at all.

Waiting, she tried not to let her attention wander into what she supposed would be the topic of Dumbledore's interrogation.

So far as she was concerned, she had only lost memories of Malfoy.

And even after she had left his room just hours before, she had been sure that she couldn't be missing much.

If she was supposed to let Dumbledore figure out what she had lost…

An odd grip of fear and distrust unexpectedly gripped Hermione's stomach, assuring her that she would not want these memories to be dissected.

Trying to get over her bout of what must have surely been sickness, from skipping breakfast and surely dinner before, and from nearly throwing up when she had returned to her room, Hermione sat up and vowed to look in the library but not very hard.

Was it really worth the trouble just to get back memories of Malfoy?

Frowning and pinching the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger, Hermione tried to ignore what she herself had said just the night before, to Malfoy, who didn't help at all.

She wasn't sure why she was remembering her lost memories; surely she was not supposed to 'recover' so soon.

Déjà vu, something Hermione had never felt very strongly before, so unlikely was she to associate any kind of feeling with any situation, was now confronting her in a terrifyingly overwhelming wave of migraines.

All she really needed was a clearing potion, and, ironically, to stay away from the sure catalyst of this distress, Malfoy.

Surely there was some way she could continue her duties as Head Girl without confronting him?

It was only two weeks into the school year.

So far she hadn't had any classes with Malfoy, even though her N.E.W.T. classes should involve him.

She frowned.

Was he in any of her classes?

For some dangerous reason she could not clearly remember the drama that usually ensued during her classes.

She remembered the material, studying it before each lesson, but she could not recall what she had done during the class, or how she had performed.

Hermione sighed and laid her head to rest against the wall behind her.

I guess he's in my classes after all.

-

Landing abruptly, Ginny nearly tumbled off her broom as she ran clumsily to Hermione, who was laughing with her arms open, having fully witnessed Ginny's double take and squeal when she realized that Hermione was watching her from the grounds far, far below.

Only hardly taking notice of the fact that Harry trudged off, away from both of them, to the locker rooms, silently looking at the ground in front of him, Hermione enveloped Ginny in a hug and briefly raised her head from her best friend's shoulder as she heard an awkward throat clearing.

Ron was looking away, towards the lockers the other Gryffindors had retreated to, but it did not seem as if he wanted to follow them.

Instead, when Ginny backed slightly out of the way and Ron looked to Hermione, his face turning red and immediately looking at her shoes, he began to speak quickly, in reminiscence of how he would have spoken shyly years ago, and Hermione felt herself almost surprised that his voice did not crack characteristically.

"I don't really know what's going on, and I'd kinda like to know, but I'd also like to say I'm sorry we haven't really hung out. In… in a while. And I hope you're okay, and I'm glad you guys are good again, and I don't know what Harry's fucking problem is but…"

Hermione, glancing to Ginny as the younger sibling rolled her eyes fondly, enveloped the stumbling boy in a hug, and although his face turned a deeper shade of red his arms embraced her and as she seemed to get more comfortable in his arms he, too, softened.

Ginny, watching with feigned annoyance, tapped her foot. "So are you going to get us into Hogsmeade or not? We both know you can."

Smiling but ready to reprimand, Hermione turned from Ron, who muttered "That wasn't why I was glad to see you…" even though Hermione didn't seem to hear.

-

"Unpleasant."

Walking into the common room, instinctively looked back to Ginny-

She seemed pale, hesitant to enter the room.

For of course the last time this had occurred…

Gently taking her hands in theirs, Hermione and Ron silently walked Ginny to her dorm, where she seemed able to breathe.

Ron, who had seen her room but not the common room, remained just outside her door, looking from one far end of the room- Zeus' abandoned room, which no student had the heart to enter- to what surely must have been Draco's room, so symbolically hidden in the shadows of the bright room- while Ginny talked herself into reality by chitchatting to Hermione about how passionately she had obviously redecorated her room.

Smiling softly as he entered the room, shutting the door behind him, it was obviously to Ron that Ginny and Hermione needed to do something he, as a man, had never found a purpose for- and spend the entire night talking, catching up, and painting each other's nails.

But more pressing was a subject he wasn't sure either were ready to discuss.

And as Ginny's dialogue died down, Hermione's glance to Ron told him that she knew, as well.

With a minute clearing of her throat, Hermione settled herself on the bed next to Ginny and Ron slowly sat down into a stiff armchair- just like her, across from her bed.

Taking a deep breath, Ron knew that Hermione was nearly about to tuck her hair behind her ear when some minor part of her must have remembered the impossibility of this comforting and subconscious action.

Pulling at the bedspread between her knees, Hermione was obviously trying to figure out how to start.

Ginny, placing her hand softly on Hermione's, took a deeper breath and kept her eyes closed as she confessed her side of the story.

"Harry and I were on the Quidditch pitch, and he was flirting again. I know I've said it doesn't affect me anymore, but… it does. And when I decided to wait for him outside the locker rooms and he didn't show, I decided to peek in there, just to… And it was empty but he was, he was crying and I didn't know what to do. So I just held him and asked him to tell me what was wrong, you know?" Licking her lips, Ginny glanced to Hermione- who was gazing out a window, knowing the end to the story she needed to hear, to her brother, who was started to look apprehensive as to what could have happened so significant that afternoon. "And he started telling me god-awful everything and then he tried to cover it up, tried to be macho and cover his tears, but I told him to fuck his pride and he, he got mad and said it was all he really had, that flirting with me was just because he couldn't open up to anyone else because he knew they wouldn't accept him and that he knew I didn't either. And when I told him I did he didn't believe me and then he grabbed my hand and shoved a pipe in it and looked at me and…" Ginny paused in her story, but only glanced to her hand, flexing the fingers that made the choice for her, seemingly unaware of the tension emanating from her audience. "And he told me he didn't know what else to do, that he didn't want his emotions to control him but he didn't want to be controlled voluntarily, either, said he was 'no masochist.' And I fumbled with it and stared at him but it just made it worse for him to see my astonishment. So he got shook up and pushed me against a wall-" tension- "and told me I didn't know him, that no one did, and he looked at the pipe and started telling me how relying on it just made him codependent on a sadist that would never fail him, and I tried to touch him, tried to say he was right, but I… I didn't know how. So when he lit up and looked at me I let go and smacked him, and told him, finally, he was stupid stupid stupid, that he was pathetic and weak, I was still crying and he held it out to me and said…" Ginny wiped a tear in vain. " I didn't want to be so emotional in front of him and then he just said… He said 'I know.' And I… I did and he kissed me and… it felt so easy to just laugh and try to keep smiles on our faces. And he started taking off my shirt and I didn't stop him… and Hermione walked in and- and luckily she killed the mood."

Hermione glanced to Ron while Ginny seemed to curl into herself, unsure if it was safe to speak any more of her story.

Ron's face, a bright and trembling red, was biting his cheek and looking at Ginny with contempt.

When Ginny finally looked to him, Hermione was unsure if she was relieved that Ginny's face turned an angry red instead of apologetically miserable. As she was about to shout at him that, Hermione was sure, she didn't know what she was doing and neither did he, Ron spoke quite softly.

"I'm going to kill the bullshitting bastard. I don't care who else he pulls it on but not you."

As the two girls glanced nervously to each other, Hermione was relieved when grabbing Ron's arm as he started to storm away stopped him in his tracks.

Turning to her, he looked down at her sad eyes and knew they were not pleading for Harry's sake and Hermione had to wonder if he knew what had nearly happened between Harry and herself the night before, if he had any clue what had not happened, she told herself, between her and Draco the night before.

For his eyes softened and looked to hers maddeningly miserably, and it looked to Hermione that he was going to touch her, but she did not want comfort when she felt she was near strong enough to confess as well.

Back in their original seating, Hermione could no longer hesitate. "If I am to speak directly by facts, I have been told that some presence of V-Voldemort," Ginny placed her hand on Hermione's to will her to be strong, "had taken presence inside my head sometime late last night, when I was with Malfoy, and he rushed me to the Hospital Wing. According to Dumbledore, I was some sort of target to him and while Ginny and I were both in the Hospital Wing," Hermione glanced to Ginny, who had not discussed that particular episode, "Zeus had come to visit, even though he had been missing for several days beforehand, and… distracted Ginny, maliciously, with the intent to tell her the valuable truth and then…." Hermione's voice broke, and wrapping her hands tightly together, she knew they would forgive her if she chose not to word Zeus' threats. "Draco had been waiting for me to awake, I suppose, and when I did not his irascible temper forced him to enter my subconscious via pervasus capitis, or so I have been privileged to know. He found the shadowed presence and tried to fight it, and succeeded. But Harry had seen a body enter me, with ill intent he was sure, and was too late to stop him or see that it was Malfoy, with benevolent intents, Dumbledore says." Hermione spat her last words with indignation and she was sure she saw Ginny glance to Ron, confused. "And when Harry came near me he tried to awaken me and, both Harry and Voldemort failing, was invaded by the presence leaving me. He tried to… to strangle me and so brought panic to both Malfoy and myself, and if I had not awoken and Malfoy not used this charm," fingering it idly, "to escape at that moment, surely not one of us would still be here. And when Voldemort realized who he had invaded in his panic, it was too late and, so unrealistically told by Dumbledore, the weaker power was destroyed immediately. And Zeus, who had thought for sure his master to have won, tried to finish off Ginny and failed, for I, I got to him and nearly… nearly… and Snape came and…"

Stopping abruptly, Hermione swallowed and did not think of her tears. Ginny, next to her, was biting her knuckle and seemed torn between throwing her arms around Hermione and crying herself. Hoping Ron would be a less miserable sight, Hermione glanced to Ron just as he landed, on his knees, on the floor in front of her, enveloping her waist in a hug, his words muffled against her stomach, rumbling pleasantly with each deep drone.

Leaning down slightly to speak into his ear, Hermione nearly laughed as she told him that she could not hear him, so inappropriate she felt it to be to ask someone to repeat himself when he was on the brink of breaking down, perhaps in the process of doing so.

Looking up to her, Hermione could see that Ron was not going to let himself cry. "I never meant for you to have to deal with anything on your own. Never, 'Mione. And I didn't mean to do just that, that same afternoon, and…" As Ron's face screwed up, undecided of how to word his distress, Hermione wished she could have just held him back and told him to shut up.

But she planted a kiss to Ron's forehead and pulled her legs onto the bed, away from his grip, and decided to tell more of her story, the part she actually remembered. "And last night the three of us went to the Headmaster's and he told me that Draco's abrupt leave from me corrupted the memories I was currently reliving, in my semi-coma, as His presence was dominating me. And apparently I had chosen to think of Malfoy, so when he left I lost those memories. I don't know if he took them or if there's something more to it…" Abruptly and without reason, Hermione decided not to share the fact that things had been coming to her, these lost memories and significances returning to her. "But when I left his office Malfoy was waiting for me and I couldn't talk to him, because he kept trying to get a hold of me but he was just, just the same Malfoy he's always been, and the creep acted like we were supposed to know each other, so I slapped him… and he kissed me."

Hermione hadn't been sure if she wanted to talk about that. For surely keeping herself in denial would allow it to leave her, once and for all, wouldn't it?

But she could not fool herself.

Keeping it secret gave it meaning. Talking about it with her friends was just proving to herself that it meant nothing special.

And by talking about it, analyzing it, dissecting what his true motives were, would surely mean that instead of telling herself it hadn't happened, she could instead convince herself that, more comforting, it hadn't meant anything.

And this was surely what Hermione needed. She would not tell them what had happened between Harry and herself, not yet, or at least not when Ron was already so mad at him. She would spend time with them both and when Ron left she would spend quixotic distraction with Ginny and completely ignore everything dramatic, for their own benefit, and instead tell each other what had been going on for the past week, what had occurred over the summer.

And she would spend time with her best friend and get over a relationship she had never started.