I'm baaack! So I have decided that instead of doing a sequel, I am going to just fit everything into one fanfic. That way everything will be resolved and there will be no loose ties that are purposefully left open for the sequel. Thanks for the support I did get for a sequel, though! I appreciate it, you guys. Thanks as always to my faithful reviewers, y'all know who you are. Your support means a lot to me. Hope you like chapter 16!

Chapter 16-Recollection

"Draco! What are you doing here?" A very confused Blaise grabbed the arm of his former best friend, face consumed with confusion.

Draco gripped him roughly around his shoulders, much in the same way he had done to his servant not so long ago. Madness danced in his eyes, flirting dangerously with the brink of insanity. "Blaise, have you seen Hermione?"

Blaise looked startled. "I haven't seen you in months and all you can talk about is some Mudblood? What's wrong with you, man?" He looked offended, an expression that was trademark for Slytherins.

Draco shook his head furiously, frustrated with his friend's lack of understanding. "Later, Blaise, she could be in danger. Where is she?"

Blaise shrugged, starting to feel uneasy from Draco's unusual show of concern. "Probably in the library or the Great Hall. What's this all about? Talk to me, Draco."

Draco ignored his last statement, consumed with the perilous situation before him. He had to find Hermione before it was too late. With no more communication between the one who was once his best friend, Draco sped off in the direction of the Great Hall, determined to save the one he now knew was his true love.

He threw the doors open with reckless abandon, ignoring the astounded stares that were shot in his direction. Every eye turned towards him, every fascinating piece of gossip was stopped abruptly with the his arrival. His eyes moved immediately to the Gryffindor table, completely bypassing his Slytherin cohorts. He was desperate for just a glimpse of that bushy, awkward, gloriously obnoxious hair, his beacon in a dark night, the sign that she was still safe. Then he would know that he wasn't too late.

However, as his eyes scanned the room, the familiar bookworm was nowhere to be found.

Draco strode over to the Gryffindor table, the imposing silence that now reigned brushing past him without deterring him. He reached Potty and the Weasel, and a few other of their unpleasant followers. He would have to put his animosity for them behind him, if only for a moment, for her sake.

"Where is Hermione?" Draco asked, suddenly screeching to a halt in front of them.

A dozen eyes stared back at him blankly, although no one offered him an answer.

Draco pounded his fist on the table, causing all of the exotic dishes full of food to clank against the wooden table. He could feel the frustration coursing through his veins, his blood pulsing harder and harder against his heating skin. Time was running out, and they were ignoring him like children! This was more important than any previous grudges, more important than all the words of hatred that had ever crossed between them.

Fred looked at him suspiciously. "Why do you need to know?"

Draco looked at him, a flash of anger illuminating his gaze for just a moment as he remembered the way she had kissed him. It was disgusting to think about, and he hated him for it. But for now, those feelings had to be pushed aside. His hatred wasn't what was important.

"Just tell me where she is." Draco demanded softly, trying to conceal his growing frustration.

Fred still looked suspicious, as did the rest of them. "Why should we tell you? She's none of your concern anymore." Ron answered immaturely.

Draco resisted the urge to strangle the imbecile. Was it so difficult for them to just divulge a small bit of information to him? But then again, he was the Dark Lord, of course. No wonder they would hesitate in his presence, no wonder they looked at him with disdain. Apparently the fact that he had defeated Voldemort meant nothing to them.

Draco swallowed his pride, physically gulping while preparing himself for his big confession. "I love her. I need to see her."

Fred clenched his fist underneath the table. Why was he here? After treating Hermione so harshly, he had the nerve to show his face in front of her best friends. She was just now starting to get over him, seeing him again would only serve to set back months and months of struggling to get out of his iron grip. She had tried so hard to let go after he had hurt her, after he had left her lifeless and lost in the mud so long ago. As long as Fred would live, he knew that he would never forgive Draco for what he had done to her, not even if he made up for the offense thousands of times. No one deserved to go through what she had.

Suddenly a scream was heard from the far side of the Great Hall. A young Gryffindor hurriedly entered the room, sprinting for where Dumbledore was seated at the head of the room. Her face was pale, her robes flew behind her almost as an afterthought when compared to her current terror. "Dumbledore, Dumbledore!! Death eaters in the castle!! Help us, please!"

Dumbledore stood, still retaining his calm exterior, but Harry swore he saw a hint of panic in the gentle cool blue pools of his eyes. "What did you see, Amelia? Tell me where they are."

The frantic girl gestured wildly in the direction of Gryffindor tower. "The common room! She was studying with me, helping me, and they took her! She kicked and screamed, but she never had a chance. Sir, she never did anything wrong, but they took her anyways! They said she had hurt their leader, but Hermione would never hurt anyone! I tried to stop them, really, I did! But they have her, they have her!"

The Hall fell into a terrified silence as a thousand accusing eyes turned to glare at the current Dark Lord, the one who controlled death eaters, the only one who could send them here.

"What… have you done?" Harry asked in a voice that contained more rage than Draco thought possible.

Draco looked around uneasily. Rage was rising like a vapor, heating the room with its fury, filling it to capacity. Dumbledore's cool aura did nothing to dispel the atmosphere that had taken over.

Draco backed away, planning on going after Hermione. What did these cretins matter, anyways? She needed him now, their suspicions of him were nothing in light of her turmoil.

He tried to turn and run, but hundreds of bodies blocked his path before he could get anywhere. He shoved past them, trying desperately to get back to her. She was hurting, she would be helpless against them! Nothing but another torture victim, nothing but another cruel sacrifice for their beloved Dark Lord. Another step on the dark, sinister ladder towards success.

He moved slowly, feeling like a herd of turtles stampeding through peanut butter. Time seemed to slow, each agonizing second meaning life or death for his beloved. Didn't they realize the trouble she was in? Why didn't they get out of his way?

Suddenly, a strong hand gripped his arm from behind. It was much fiercer than the others, as if it was holding on by more than just physical strength.

"I can't let you go any further." He recognized the voice immediately.

Weasel.

"You don't understand. You have to let me go!" Draco whirled around to face the demon who had stolen his girl.

"No, you don't understand! Put aside your selfishness for a second and listen to me. You didn't see how she changed after you left. It nearly killed her. You had her heart in your hands, such a precious thing to hold, and then threw it back in her face after you had ripped it to shreds! And now you come back, expecting her to welcome you with open arms? Don't you realize she's better off without you?"

Draco tried to rip out of his grasp, nothing else mattered but her safety. However, his strength faltered at Fred's last words. Yes, she was better off without him. She was better off never knowing him. However, that didn't stop him from needing her. It would hurt both of them time and time again, but he couldn't live without her. He had tried, and he had been miserable.

Draco turned to him, looking him straight in the eye. "I know you love her. But who does Hermione love?"

The heavy silence was answer enough.

Fred slackened his grip, and finally Draco flew away, taking with him the remnants of Fred's dying dream.

In all the commotion, no one noticed the small hooded figure that entered the corner of the Hall. No one noticed her slip into the room, and thus slip back into a labyrinth of long forgotten memories. Blurbs of images flew through her mind, none of them connected, none of them making any sense. Feelings she didn't like were coursing through her, making her heart beat with a life that she had never known before. What was this? What was happening to her?

Harry felt a prickling on the back of his neck. There was someone here. Someone who had been gone for far too agonizingly long. He turned, his eyes falling on the slender form in the corner, conspicuously watching the room with what he assumed was awe. He couldn't see her face, it was shrouded in a hood. But he knew her, he knew from the feeling of completeness that had now returned to him after its long absence.

He walked towards her, her questioning eyes met his. Slowly, all the chaos around him died, diminishing into nothingness in the wake of the tiny girl in front of him. He reached her soon, his footsteps slowing uncertainly as he was close enough to reach out and touch her. What if… what if after all this, she wasn't real? What if he had gotten his hopes up for nothing?

But still, even so… he had to know.

He reached out, slowly, uncertainly, gauging her reaction. A flicker of confusion darted across her shielded eyes, and Harry almost stopped, but his hand continued its perilous journey once again. He had to know. He had to know for himself.

He reached inside the concealing fabric of the cloak, finally touching her cheek. She was warm, she was alive. The feeling of her skin was electric, ecstasy shot through him like a drug. Her eyes, previously covered with broken and forgotten memories, seemed to come together in realization. She looked back at him, that same glimmer of mischief dancing just beyond her shield, just beyond her soulless wall.

But it still wasn't enough.

Seconds after he had scaled her wall, she raised it higher yet again. Her eyes were overcome with confusion, she looked at him with fright and backed away. "What are you doing? I don't know you. Get away from me."

Harry took his hand away from her face, dropping it hopelessly as his heart collapsed inside of him. He tried to hide the sorrow that threatened to flood him, keeping it at bay, holding back the feelings that begged to be released. He sighed, calming his tense nerves.

"I'm sorry. You just… remind me of someone special." He said, searching her eyes for the sign of recognition he had seen not so long ago.

Ginny shrank away ever so slightly. "Well… I am not the person you seek." She answered simply, feeling awkward in his presence.

Harry nodded dejectedly. "Right, right. I'm sorry."

Ginny shook her head. "This place… there are so many memories and feelings that I don't understand. Are you familiar with this area? What is it? What happened here?"

Harry looked back at her, pity filling his eyes. She didn't remember anything about her time spent here. But she was here at last, and she was alive. This was enough to give him happiness despite the loss of her memories.

Harry answered, "This is Hogwarts, a school for wizards and witches. This is a place where dreams both come true and are crushed. Love is born and love dies here. For many of us, it is home. For some of us, it's just a school. For others, it is our entire lives. Why? Have you… been here before?"

Ginny blinked furiously several times, as if trying to clear away a blur that had obstructed her vision. "I… feel like I have, although I know that can't be true. I've spent my entire life serving my lord, I don't understand why I would recognize this place."

"Your entire life?" Harry asked. "You are sure?"

Ginny looked at him, shock finally registering in her features. "Wait… what if all that time I spent with him was a lie? What if…" She glanced around the room again, trying to sort her frantic thoughts. Eventually she turned back to him with a determined gleam in her eyes. "Help me. Help me remember why I know this place."

Harry's face split into a wide grin, the first sign of real joy since he had seen her leave him. "I'd love to."