A/N: Again, thanks for all the reviews and for adding our fic to your favorites, or adding us to your favorites… It all means a lot to us! It's great to know you're enjoying the story.
Hm, the chapters seem to be getting longer and longer. In this chapter we'll find out the reason behind the memory loss. Let us know what you think of it!
Chapter 5
Hermione awoke entirely too early for her liking. The clock on the table said seven o'clock, and although she desperately wanted to sleep more, she knew that she wouldn't be able to. It had always been her habit to wake early. Sighing, she rolled out of bed, gathered the clothes she had prepared the night before, and went to the bathroom. She gazed unseeingly at the mirror for several minutes, trying to sift through her memories. Her memories of her marriage still hadn't returned, but she didn't think she had forgotten anything new. Not that she would know, of course.
She was on her way to search for breakfast when she heard Ralph crying, so she hurried to his room.
"What's the matter?"
Jeeves was fixing the bed, and Ralph was standing near the windows, hair sticking up at odd angles and tears running down his cheeks. His lower lip trembled, and he clutched his teddy bear tightly. When he saw Hermione, he began howling, fresh tears flowing from his eyes.
"What happened?" Draco skidded into the room behind Hermione, and the two of them approached their son. Ralph tried to answer, but he was crying too hard, so his parents looked to Jeeves for answers.
"He wet the bed, Master," the house-elf explained. "You know he feels ashamed about it."
"I'm sorry," Ralph sobbed, finally raising his tearful eyes to look at his parents. He looked like he wanted to say more, but instead he just buried his head into his teddy bear and continued crying.
"Oh, Ralph," Hermione began, feeling sorry for him and wondering how often he wet the bed. "Don't cry. You're only three years old, it's okay if you have an accident."
Draco picked him up, ignoring the dampness on Ralph's pyjamas. "It's all right, Ralph," he said, using his most soothing voice. "When was the last time this happened?" he asked.
It took a while before Ralph could answer. "W-Wed-"
"Wednesday. And it's already Sunday," Draco said, producing a handkerchief to wipe Ralph's face. "You've gone more days without wetting the bed. So it's all right, isn't it?"
"I'm not a big boy yet," Ralph said, pouting. "You said big boys don't wet the bed."
"I was wrong. Everyone has accidents sometimes. Even big boys."
"Even you, Daddy?"
Draco hesitated. "Sometimes," he lied. Hermione didn't have the heart to tease him about it, as she usually would. "Now, what do we usually tell you after you have an accident?" he asked.
"I shouldn't cry about something I can't change," Ralph said obediently, wiping his nose with the back of his hand. "I should help Jeeves fix the bed."
"Can you do that?"
Ralph nodded, and slid down from Draco's arms. Jeeves gave him a small pillow and a pillowcase.
"Please cover the pillow, Master Ralph."
It was his usual job, and Ralph accomplished the task with little difficulty as Jeeves finished fixing the rest of the bed. "Finished!" the boy said proudly, carefully putting the pillow in its proper place.
"Perfect," Draco declared, examining Ralph's work. "Now, just get cleaned up, and then join us for breakfast, all right?"
"All right."
"I'll help you," Hermione said, taking Ralph's hand. They went to the cabinet to choose his clothes, while Jeeves went to help with the breakfast and Draco left to look for the Prophet. "I'm sorry, Ralph. It's quite my fault, I forgot to take you to the loo before tucking you in." There it was again, a vague memory, knowledge of what she used to do without remembering anything specific. Hermione bit the inside of her cheek with frustration.
"It's okay Mummy. I forgot too." He smiled, his spirits much improved because they hadn't gotten mad at him.
After breakfast, Draco and Hermione took turns playing with Ralph while the other did whatever work they needed for the following day. At eleven o'clock, they began to get ready for lunch with the Weasleys, and twenty minutes later both Draco and Hermione were ready. Ralph wasn't quite there yet.
"Be good, all right?" Hermione asked Draco repeatedly. He grumbled and complained, but promised with a smirk that he wouldn't attack unless provoked. Hermione wasn't reassured.
Ralph ran into the room and came to a stop right in front of Draco. "Look at my shoes!"
"Very nice," Draco complimented awkwardly, not sure if he was supposed to have seen them before. They weren't the ones that he had been wearing the day before.
"They're special. They run really fast. My dude gave them."
"Sorry?"
"My dude gave them, remember, Daddy?"
"Oh, yes, now I remember. Your dude." He turned around to look at Hermione and mouthed, "his dude?" Hermione just shrugged.
Draco shrugged too. "Let's go and get this over with, then." He picked Ralph up while Hermione threw the powder into the fire.
"The Burrow," she said clearly, before stepping into the flames. She arrived at her destination and stepped out of the fireplace with a slight cough.
"Hermione!" Ginny squealed, throwing her arms around her friend. "We were beginning to wonder if you'd make it here alive. How's Draco?"
Hermione returned the hug. "Oh, you know. Sometimes human, other times," she lowered her voice as Draco and Ralph stepped out of the fireplace, "prat."
Ginny giggled and pulled back to greet the others. "Hi Draco," she said, before turning her full attention to Ralph, who greeted her joyously.
"Auntie Ginny! Look at my shoes! My dude gave them!"
"Hello, Ginny," Draco said, setting Ralph down. It was strange, seeing these people and realizing he had, most likely, become friends with them. He supposed Hermione had felt the same way the day before, when she had met his parents.
"Come on Ralph, let's go look for your dude," Ginny said, taking Ralph's hand. "They're all in the garden," she told Draco and Hermione.
"Garden?" Draco asked doubtfully. "Isn't it a bit cold for outdoors?"
"Warming charm. With such a big family, we never fit indoors," Ginny explained. "Don't worry, Mum and Dad have perfected it."
Just then, Ron peeked in and saw the new arrivals. "Hermione!" he grinned, "glad you could make it."
"There's my dude!" Ralph bellowed. He ran up to Ron and pointed at his feet. "Look at my shoes!"
"Hey, dude!" Ron exclaimed, raising his hand. "Give me five." Ralph obeyed, and Ron ruffled his hair. "You're wearing the shoes! Great!"
"I'll show Uncle Harry," Ralph said, running outside.
Draco and Hermione stared at Ron. "You're his dude?" Hermione asked, surprised. Draco looked revolted.
Ron laughed. "You really don't remember? Ginny mentioned something like it, but I didn't believe her." He shot an apologetic glance at his little sister, who huffed, shooting him a dirty look before following Ralph.
"Why are you his dude?" From the little Draco had heard of the mysterious 'dude', he had imagined someone much cooler.
Ron looked embarrassed. "Well, I got tired of hearing 'Uncle Won' all the time, so I told him to call me dude instead."
Draco snickered, earning himself a scowl from Ron. "Hey, at least I remember the kid," Ron said defensively.
"You were probably the one who made us forget in the first place!" Draco accused, jabbing his finger at Ron.
"Why would I do that?"
"Everyone knows you carry a torch for Granger." As he said it, Draco felt quite smug that Hermione was his wife and not Ron's.
Ron turned bright red. "That was ages ago, Malfoy," he growled. "Trust you to dig up the past."
Hermione also blushed, and tried to change the topic. "Let's just go outside and see if anyone else knows anything." She headed for the door, and Draco hurried to stay beside her. He wasn't about to be left alone in foreign territory.
When they reached the backyard, Ralph was already playing with the other children, and the adults were anticipating their arrival. Harry hugged Hermione, looking at her with concern, and seemed unsure how to greet Draco, who glared at him stonily. Mr. and Mrs. Weasley had no such scruples, and greeted the couple as they always did.
Once Mrs. Weasley had released an uncomfortable-looking Draco from her hug, she clapped her hands briskly. "All right, everyone," she said, "lunch is served."
They all sat down around the long picnic table. Ginny and Fleur sat with the children at another table, while the others remained at the larger one.
"Now, tell us exactly what happened, and maybe we can figure something out," Mr. Weasley told Draco and Hermione as he helped himself to some stew.
"It started yesterday morning," Hermione said, taking it upon herself to explain. "When Ma- Draco and I woke up, we had completely forgotten that we were married. It was… confusing, to say the least."
"It must have been awful to find out the truth," Bill said sympathetically, offering her the potatoes. "I mean, that you had your memories altered."
Hermione nodded, taking the plate. "I went over to Ginny, and she told me that Malfoy and I had been married for four years. And that we had Ralph. The thing is, we can remember everything except our marriage. I can clearly remember my work and everything. But it seems like I either can't remember Draco and Ralph being there, or I don't remember those times at all."
"What do you mean?" Harry asked, frowning.
"For instance, I know I went to France last year, and according to my diary, Draco and Ralph were there as well. But while I remember being in France, I remember being there alone," Hermione said. "But with the Malfoys- I don't remember ever meeting them after you defeated Voldemort, Harry. I don't remember meeting them at all, with or without Draco."
Everyone looked at Draco for verification, and he nodded. "Similar to how I remember things," he said, reaching for the chicken.
"I don't suppose you remember if anything happened that night before you forgot everything?" Ron asked.
"Don't be silly, Ron," Hermione sighed, rubbing her forehead.
"Yeah, Weasley. Think about how stupid your question sounds."
Ron scowled at them. "What I meant was, do you know if you went anywhere else after Harry and Ginny's party? Perhaps you have a feeling, a vague idea, anything?"
They both shook their heads.
"I'm quite sure," Hermione said, "but I'm not sure how I can be sure, that we didn't go anywhere else that night."
"Nothing happened at the party?" Draco asked.
"Well, you did have that row," Bill said, looking around at the others. "But that's a pretty normal occurrence."
Hermione frowned. "Aren't we… happy?" she felt slightly ashamed at having to ask.
The others hastened to reassure her. "You and Draco are the happiest couple I know," Bill said sincerely.
"With a son like Ralph, you three seem like a perfect family," Mr. Weasley added.
"And you're both very much in love," Mrs. Weasley nodded.
Draco and Hermione looked at each other, both slightly nauseated. "In love?" Draco croaked. "How in the world did we fall in love?"
Hermione, far from being insulted, agreed with Draco. "After spending some time with you, Malfoy, I have to say that you're not half-bad. But I'm not… I don't love you. Anymore, that is."
He nodded. "Exactly. You're obviously not a terrible mother, Granger, and my parents seem to adore you, but…"
"But," Hermione agreed, "but."
Everyone was quiet for a while, until Mrs. Weasley's voice rang out sharply. "George Weasley! What aren't you telling us?"
They all looked at him. "What?" George asked, chewing his food slowly and looking altogether too innocent.
"You're far too quiet, young man," Mrs. Weasley said severely. George opened his mouth to protest, but his mother cut him off. "You look like you're thinking of something, something you've done or are about to do. You're scheming," she announced triumphantly, pleased to have labeled her son's expression.
"Me? Scheming? Mum, your own son! What would Fred think?" George looked hurt and briefly raised his eyes heavenward. "I was merely contemplating the row between the Malfoys."
"And what did you conclude?" Mrs. Weasley raised her eyebrows. George stayed silent, so she added a threat. "I'll tell Aunt Muriel the location of your shop if you don't speak up. She's been wanting to visit for a while now."
George blanched. "All right, all right." He took a deep breath and looked apologetically at Draco and Hermione. "I did it."
They stared at him, gobsmacked. "What?" Hermione couldn't believe it. "George! Why in Merlin's name-" She gripped Draco's arm to stop him from doing anything stupid, like using the Killing Curse before George could explain himself.
"I didn't mean to," he said sulkily. "I thought I was doing you a favour."
"By erasing our memories?" Hermione's voice rose higher and higher. Her grip on Draco's arm became slightly painful, causing her husband to wince.
"I was trying to help," he said defensively. "You and Draco were fighting, like you always do. And there was this potion which Lee and I had been working on, which makes a person forget specific events in their lives. I thought I'd slip you two the potion and make you forget about the fight. Sure enough, it worked, and by the end of the night you were snogging like there was no tomorrow."
Although disgusted by the mental image, Hermione was too angry to care. "You erased our entire marriage, you idiot," she snapped, just as Draco exclaimed, "What do you mean, 'it worked'? Is this your idea of it working?"
"I didn't mean to erase your marriage," George said, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "Lee and I tested it ourselves, and it worked! Obviously, I can't remember what I've forgotten, but it did work. I've been trying to think of why it didn't work on you two. Hopefully I can find an antidote."
Hermione sighed, thinking the answer quite obvious. "It must have been the alcohol. When you drank the potion, you didn't drink it with wine or whatever was served that night. But we did. That affected everything."
George smacked his forehead. "Merlin's beard, Hermione, you must be right! Brilliant!" He grinned at her. "Are you sure you don't want to work for us?"
She smiled back, slightly flattered. Beside her, Draco growled. "How do you intend to fix this, Weasley?"
George's grin faltered. "I don't know. I don't know yet," he stressed, gulping as Draco's eyes narrowed further. "I'll work on something as soon as I get home. Do you want to help me, Hermione?"
Hermione pursed her lips. "I'd like to, to make sure you get it right this time," she looked at him sternly, "but we've got an appointment with a private Healer this afternoon, and I've got to finish some things for work tomorrow."
George looked disappointed. "Maybe tomorrow, then?"
Mrs. Weasley frowned. "George, do you think you can't create an antidote by yourself?"
"It'll take time, is all I'm saying," he said defensively. "It would be faster if Hermione could help. What about you, Malfoy?" he asked hopefully.
Draco shook his head. "Fix this yourself, Weasley." He stabbed his chicken viciously. "And fix it fast."
"Owl me the ingredients you used," Hermione suggested. "That way I can start thinking of potions."
"Ginny and I have an idea," Fleur said, leaving the children's table to join the other adults. Hermione looked at her hopefully while Draco glared distrustfully. "I do not think you will like it, though."
"What?"
"I do not think it will work," Fleur added apologetically, her English accent much improved from years of living there, "but it is worth a shot. You two must kiss."
"Kiss?" Draco was shocked, and Hermione snorted in disbelief.
"This isn't a fairytale," she snapped.
"But you never know," Ginny said, joining them, "it might trigger your memories."
"No, I won't do it," Hermione said, shaking her head.
"Come on, Hermione, you can't be shy, you two are always kissing in front of us. It drives Ron mad," George told her.
"What's one small kiss between husband and wife?" Mrs. Weasley asked impatiently. "You're not bashful teenagers anymore."
"She's not my wife," Draco growled. But he turned to Hermione anyway.
"Can't we do it somewhere private?" she whispered.
"You're making a mountain out of a gnome hill," Ginny said. "It's just a quick kiss, not a snog."
Hermione turned even redder at the word 'snog'. "Fine," she muttered tersely. She looked at Draco, who looked as uncomfortable as she felt. Steeling herself, she leaned forward and kissed Draco's lips quickly.
"You're not sick anymore!"
Both Draco and Hermione snapped around to find Ralph watching them. Hermione turned red. "Uh, that's right."
"Go back to playing with Lily," Draco added. "She's lonely."
Once Ralph's attention was diverted, Hermione groaned and rested her head in her arms on the table. "It didn't work."
"What's that about being sick?" Harry asked curiously.
"I had to tell him something," Hermione muttered. "He asked why Draco and I don't hug anymore." She stood up in frustration. "I'm going inside."
She left the table. Everyone turned to look at Draco instead, and he glared back at them. "I'm not going after her."
"I'll go," Ron volunteered. "I have to use the loo anyway." Draco scowled at the redhead, but didn't move.
Ron found Hermione sitting on the sofa, staring blankly at the fireplace. "It's too hard," she whispered.
"Hermione, I know you'll remember eventually. You never forget anything," he said comfortingly. "It may not be today, or this week, but you'll remember. Or you'll learn. It's what you do."
Hermione chuckled in spite of herself, and wiped a tear off her cheek. She leaned over and hugged Ron. When she pulled back, he offered her a tentative smile, which she returned. "So you're his dude?"
"Yep," Ron replied proudly. "And you're his mum."
"Hollywood and cable television have influenced you too much," Hermione said, shaking her head. "Why did you buy him shoes?"
"They were for his birthday."
Hermione groaned. "I don't even know when that is! This is horrible. I certainly don't feel like his mum."
"13th of November, a few months ago. The shoes were a bit big, so he's only started wearing them now. Ralph had a party in your Manor. It was an arctic themed costume party, and he went as an Eskimo. Draco was one of Santa's elves and you were a Muggle on an expedition, or so you said. Oh, and Lucius' costume was priceless," Ron said, his face breaking into a wide smile, "he was a penguin!"
Her jaw dropped. "You're joking! I'd remember something like that."
Ron shook his head. "Nope, no joke. I'll show you a picture one time," he chuckled. "It was Ralph's request. Narcissa went as a polar bear, but she managed to pull it off."
Hermione sighed. "You know, I'd strangle George if I thought that would solve anything. That must have been the party of the century, and I can't even remember it!"
"He'll fix it, Hermione. George always does."
They were silent for a few moments, before Hermione gave an irritated huff. "You know what else is really annoying?" she asked with a scowl. "Malfoy. I was looking at him earlier, trying to find out what I saw in him, and I don't see it. He's not even that good looking!"
Ron raised his eyebrows skeptically. "Ginny would have a heart attack if she heard you say that."
"All right, so maybe he is a little good looking," Hermione amended, "but in an annoying way. Good looking in an 'I'm much better than you' kind of way. What's so funny?" she asked as Ron began to laugh.
"You said the same thing years ago," he explained. "And Ginny and Fleur always said you were just saying that because you didn't want to admit that you found him attractive."
Hermione's cheeks burned. "I do not find him attractive."
"Not too long afterwards- all right, maybe a year or so- you announced you were going to marry him."
"That doesn't prove anything," she grumbled. "He still looks like an arrogant git."
"True," Ron agreed. "So what's your next step?"
"We're going to see a private Healer in half an hour. We'll leave Ralph here, then go and see if the Healer can help us. I'm not holding my breath."
"George'll figure something out," he assured her. "It might take years, but he'll do it."
"I don't want it to take years," Hermione groaned. "I need to remember how I lost my sanity and married Draco bloody ferret Malfoy."
"Is he being awful?" Ron asked sympathetically. "Harry and I always thought he was quite a good husband to you. Better than we expected, anyway."
"He's not that awful, actually," she admitted. "I just can't stand the idea of being married, and… and sleeping with him! I've been considering taking Amortentia. To speed up the process of falling in love."
"I've been wondering about that, actually," Ron remarked, leaning back against the sofa. "Do you need to fall in love with him again? I mean, the potion affected your memory, not your emotions. Maybe you don't remember why, but you do love him."
"I've been wondering that too," Hermione said. "But trust me, if I still love him, I'd know."
They sat in silence for a while, before Hermione asked, "how did you react when I told you?"
"I couldn't believe it. Honestly, I never saw it coming. You and Malfoy? As far as I knew you didn't like him, much less were in love with the git. And that was the worst part. I didn't understand why you didn't tell us sooner. The fact that you were engaged to Malfoy shocked me, but the fact that you had been dating him for a while and I had no idea was even worse." Ron grinned at her and patted her hand. "I was a bit mad, but I got over it pretty quickly. You said that my acceptance of it surprised you. I said, give me some credit. I wasn't happy about it, but I wasn't about to fight you about it. Best friends, remember?"
"Wow." Hermione was still surprised. She felt touched by his sentiment too. Leaning over she gave him a quick hug. "You continue to amaze me, Ron. And Harry too? How did he take it?"
"He was quite ticked off that it was Malfoy. Ginny felt the most outraged, I think, because she didn't suspect a thing. I don't think Voldemort rising from the grave would bring out the same expression of shock to her face." Ron chuckled to himself. "Anyway, you said you were sorry you kept it from us, sorry you underestimated us. Of course, all was forgiven, especially when you told Gin that she could help you choose your wedding dress, which, by the way, you looked amazing in."
"Thanks." Hermione checked her watch and sighed. "We've got that appointment with the Healer soon. I hope it's not a complete and utter waste of time."
"Good luck with that," he replied, patting her back and then stretching out across the sofa she vacated. His legs dangled off one of the chair's arms. "I think I'll take a nap."
Hermione smiled at him fondly. "See you later."
End notes: What do you think? Of the memory loss and Lucius' penguin suit? Haha. :D