Author's Note: The reviews make me smile! Thank you for reading! Many have been asking if you'll get to see Ron's POV or that of anyone else. Unfortunately, you won't. The entire story is Hermione's point of view but there's enough interaction, I think, so that you can really see how Ron's feeling. If at any point it gets confusing, please just leave a comment in a review and I'll try to address it. Enjoy the next chapter!

Chapter 5

August 1999

"Happy Birthday dear Ginny. Happy Birthday to you!" sang the crowd of friends and family gathered at the Burrow that evening. They had just enjoyed a feast prepared by Mrs. Weasley, who had outdone herself with dinner yet again, let alone the fabulous cake that sat before the birthday girl. It had been a month since Hermione had received that mysterious gift of a remembrall. Its gifter drifted in and out of Hermione's memory. Rummaging in her bag for a small wrapped gift box, Hermione approached her best girlfriend.

"For you, Ginny," Hermione smiled as she took the seat beside her. As Ginny unwrapped the gift, Hermione glanced around the room, catching the eye of a tall redhead standing next to Harry. 'Remember,' she heard a voice in her head echo, but she couldn't. As hard as she tried, she couldn't. He gave a small, almost awkward smile to her and she looked away quickly as a blush crept over her cheeks. She was undoubtedly attracted to him, but attraction could be instant, right? But why was her heart forcing her brain to remember? What was she forgetting?

"I love it!" her friend called from beside her, holding her wrist out to Hermione so she could clasp her new bracelet around it. Hermione did so and then excused herself, again catching the eye of that oddly familiar yet altogether unrecognizable man from before. She drifted into the sitting room and he followed. Perhaps he felt that instant attraction as well. She kept moving to the mantle which was lined with photographs, each one of family and friends, moving magically in their frames. On the far right she spotted one of herself, Harry, and the same redhead who was now standing behind her. She watched as her image in the picture looked at him and smiled so lovingly and his image did the same. 'Remember,' she heard echo in her head again.

She reached into her pocket of the blazer she was wearing, her fingers closing around the remembrall that she brought everywhere with her. She pulled it loose from its confines, looking at it. A swirl of white smoke seemed to lash through the deep red as realization hit her. "It's you," she whispered. The photo, the remembrall, that smile he gave her, and the voice in her head. It all clicked. "It's you I can't remember."

"Well that's a step in the right direction," he finally spoke. His tone held a bit of a laugh, barely serious, just happy to be alone with her.

She looked over her shoulder at him and returned the ball to her pocket. "Why can't I remember you?"

"Bloke by the name of Malfoy. Hit you with a curse."

"I know that part," he interrupted him. "But that was months ago. Surely this isn't the first time we're meeting again. Surely I've been told it was you many times before. In the very least once." Her anger was starting to bubble to the surface. "That spell should have only made me forget the past, not things that have happened afterwards."

"We've been trying to figure that out for a while now. Quite frustrating, really. But, you know, you've never been able to put the pieces together yourself before so this is actually a pretty big deal."

"I can't even remember your name," she murmured and looked up at him, meeting his eyes. When they met again, her brain got fuzzy and she shook her head to clear it. She blinked a few times, looking at the stranger in front of her. "I'm sorry, do I know you?" she asked as if her mind had been completely wiped again.

A deep frown grew on the strangers face as he realized her memory had returned for what only felt like a split second. He boldly stepped forward, reached into her pocket and removed the remembrall. He held it up to her eye level. The fog inside swam a light misty pink. "Yeah, you know me. I'm the one who gave you this," he said a bit more harshly than he meant to before grabbing her hand and pressing the ball into her palm. He turned from her, his own anger plainly apparent, before he stormed from the room, leaving Hermione alone and confused.

"Wait!" she called just as he had gone out of sight, quickly trying to make up the distance between them. "Please, wait!" They were both in the middle of the dining room where the other guests were still gathered. He was on his way out the door when she called after him again, her voice so desperate that he stopped in his tracks. "Please!" All eyes were on the duo who were causing a scene in the middle of a party.

She approached him slowly, his back still to her, the remembrall still clutched in her hand where he had put it. She raised it slowly. "If you gave me this, then we must know each other. The note that came with it… What it said…" The murmuring of the guests began when she spoke.

"Hermione," Harry called softly as he moved towards his best friends.

"No, Harry," she stopped him. "Something just happened and… and I can't remember what but…" She rubbed her head as her brain felt fuzzy again. "I need to sit down." There was a shuffle and rush of feet as Hermione was led to the nearest chair. As she sat, she put her head in her hands and closed her eyes, the scarlet ball pressed to her temple. The colors inside swam wildly like it wasn't sure what to conclude on what its possessor had forgotten. She opened her eyes when a hand touched her knee and when she looked up, there was that shaggy head of ginger hair again. The stranger's expression was apologetic and worried. She avoided his eyes. "Can someone please explain to me what's going on?" she whispered. As if this were a command, most of the guests in the room dispersed, heading in different directions except for Harry, Ginny, and the red headed stranger who met Harry's glance and nodded. The group recounted the events that had led to Hermione's mind being wiped and what had just occurred in the other room.

"You were remembering and then you looked right at me and it was like it all melted away," Ron recalled. "It was like finding out you forgot me to begin with all over again."

"Wait," Ginny interrupted. "Did your eyes meet?"

"Yeah," her brother nodded.

"It's like a trigger. I noticed it when we were out at dinner a while ago and a few times since then. It's like when you look each other in the eye, the spell is cast all over again."

"That bloody bloke Malfoy!" Ron practically exploded.

"So he knew the spell might fade over time and made sure it would be recast. He knew you might start to remember again," Harry spoke aloud, trying to make sense of everything. "Bloke might be smarter than we thought." Hermione's gaze stayed locked on her shoes, her brow furrowed, trying to take this news all in.

"If I keep forgetting, I want you to remind me. I want to know what I'm forced to forget because… because maybe if we talk about it enough, I'll start remembering on my own." She glanced up at Ron then quickly adverted her eyes. "And please be patient, don't let your temper flare. It really doesn't help at all," she added, swallowing hard. "Not when my own anger at this is incredibly out of control."

Ron nodded. "Well it's settled then. We go through it every day if we need to and I keep my temper in check."

"You should wear a nametag, Ron," Ginny joked. Everyone laughed, the tension easing slightly.

"Oh yeah, it'll say my name is Ron, the bloke you can't remember." The group had a good laugh for a while before settling down again.

"You know," Hermione began. "It might not be a bad idea, the name tag. Maybe just carry it with you or when you know you'll be seeing me."

"Not a bad idea, Ron," Harry chimed in. "We can put some pictures up in your flat, too, Hermione."

"Send you a howler every day," Ginny laughed. The group chatted for a bit before turning in for the evening. Hermione went to bed that night with a good feeling, like things were getting better and everything would be ok.

An arm around her neck. A struggle. A flash of light, brighter than she'd ever experienced. A scream, was that her voice? Then nothing.