Author's Note: Once again thanks for the reviews! I'm glad you're liking the story! I'm sorry I kinda of skimmed over Hermione's reaction to what happened in this chapter. But there's some lighthearted good times and story progression here. Hope you enjoy! More will be revealed in later chapters!

Chapter 8

September 1999

"Stop," Hermione whispered. "I don't want to hear anymore right now."

Ron had finished relaying the events of the night that Draco attacked them both. Hermione's recurring nightmares aligned with the story Ron had just told her. Hearing the details made her ache inside. How could that have happened, what had Ron felt since he had to watch, and what exactly happened next? Hermione looked up and met Ron's eyes and before she could look away, her brain got fuzzy and she'd forgotten everything they just discussed. Ron recognized the confused and lost look on her face and sighed. He straightened up and pointed to his nametag. "I'm Ron, the bloke you can't remember," he said with a small smile that broadened when she smiled in return.

"Right," Hermione said. "Ron."

A few weeks later was Hermione's birthday and she had invited her friends and family over to celebrate. She spent the entire morning trying to prepare a feast though her magical culinary skills were not that up to par. Of all the books Hermione had dug her nose in over the years, a magical cookbook had not been one of them. Guessing that the young girl would need some help, Mrs. Weasley arrived early to lend a hand. The fireplace roared and filled with an emerald green fire as she arrived which made Crookshanks raise his head lazily to check out the new guest. Hermione dropped her wand in surprise, the cake she was trying to ice falling and splattering on the floor.

"Oh no!" Hermione cried at the ruined cake, immediately bending down to try to salvage the mess.

"Not to worry, dear," Molly Weasley quickly responded, using her own wand to quickly clean up the ruined cake. "It's your birthday, just relax and I'll take care of the food."

Hermione bit her lip. "Can… can you teach me?" Molly looked up at Hermione with a heartwarming smile. Over the years of watching her blossom, Molly and her husband, Arthur, had grown to consider Hermione as a daughter rather than their children's friend, the sentiment only deepening when she had begun dating Ron. As a daughter, it was only right that Molly teach her how to cook. Having spent so much time away from her muggle parents, Hermione had never had shared moments over cake mixes with her mother or grilling lessons with her dad.

"Of course, dear, of course," came Molly's motherly voice and she pulled Hermione back into the kitchen. The two spent the rest of the morning trying out cooking spells and making some tasty treats for the party.

Before long, the rest of her guests began to arrive, mostly by way of her fireplace, but her parents, of course, came through the front door. The party was in full swing by the time Mr. and Mrs. Granger arrived and Hermione greeted them happily, reminding them that the other guests were witches and wizards, like her.

"Dear, we know," her father reminded her from behind a very large giftwrapped box. "Books," he told her, ruining the surprise of the gift as was his tendency. "Some new releases." Hermione gave him a knowing smile, used to him telling her what was inside the box before she got a chance to open it. She led them into the sitting room where George Weasley and Harry had just started a game of exploding snap. One of the cards exploded just as they walked into the room and Hermione's mother jumped and let out a small shriek, not expecting such an event to happen.

"Kids," Molly excused her son, ushering Mrs. Granger into the kitchen with her as Mr. Weasley quickly stole Hermione's father's attention by asking him what a blender was and how they worked. As the 'adults' became preoccupied, Hermione turned back to her friends. The fireplace flashed a brilliant emerald green and a tall redheaded boy appeared, holding a small giftwrapped box in his hand. Hermione squinted at him, she knew who this was but couldn't pinpoint him exactly. The letter R was drifting around her head and when he smiled at her, she said it out loud without thinking.

"R," she began and he raised an eyebrow. "Your name starts with an R."

He nodded and kept smiling. "Yeah. Yeah, it does." He stepped closer to her, holding out the gift. "The full name's Ron, though. Ronald, actually. Happy Birthday. I, uh, got you this before the accident and I still wanted to give it to you." Both were unaware that everyone at the party was watching them.

"Ron," she repeated, taking the gift. "Thank you. I'll open it later."

Their moment was interrupted when a card on the table exploded and George fell back, patting out a smoldering spot on his vest which made everyone laugh.

"I guess George loses!" Harry laughed and everyone fell back into the jovial pace of the party. Hours later, after Mrs. Wealsey let Hermione take full credit for the dinner they prepared together, and the candles on her birthday cake were blown out, Hermione began to open some of her presents. She sifted through the box of books from her parent's, tasted one of her favorite candies from a box Ginny had gotten her, and shook her head with a laugh when Harry gave her a magic 8 ball that he picked up from a local muggle toy shop. "Now you can really predict the future," he'd told her.

"Mine next," Ron interrupted, pushing the box he had brought closer to her. "I had to order it special a while ago so it has a bit of sentimental meaning behind it that you probably won't remember but… I wanted you to have it. Maybe it'll help… you know…" he trailed off.

Hermione just smiled and opened the box to reveal a heart shaped locket. The front was carved with a floral design and inside Ron had fit two magical pictures of them inside, their miniatures selves moving in the tiny frame. "It's beautiful," she smiled at him and put it on.

The party continued for a while longer before her guests started to leave. Harry, Ginny, and Ron were the last ones left, the four friends settled on the couch as they wound down. Ron moved into the empty seat beside Hermione and reached out to touch the necklace she wore. "You didn't see the back of it," he told her.

She took it into her own hands and turned it over to see an inscription on the back. "The journey never ends," she read and smiled, looking at him. "I guess it's true, isn't it? I mean from what I've been told, we've been through a lot and it hasn't stopped. We're still trying."

"I'll try until the day I die," he told her, his voice dropping low so only she could hear.

"Good. I don't want you to stop trying." She turned her head to look up into his eyes and he looked away quickly. "What's wrong?" she asked.

"It happens every time," he began, glancing nervously at Ginny and Harry. "Every time our eyes meet you forget again and I don't want you to forget this time." Ron slumped back against the couch, his eyes lowered to his lap where his hand nervously picked at a spot on his jeans. Hermione reached over and placed her hand over his, also resting back against the couch.

"It'll get better," Hermione said softly. "It's starting to already."