Disclaimer: Sadly, Harry Potter is not mine whatsoever. The incredible J.K. Rowling is the owner of all the characters, and many of the locations.

Author's Note: I just wanted to say thank you so much to all the people who commented on, favorited, story alerted, or read any of my other chapters (a special thanks goes to Avanell for commenting on every chapter). Please, please, please comment everybody! I am an aspiring author and comments are what help to motivate me (they also help me update faster *wink, wink*).

Truth and Introductions

(Hermione's POV)

Hermione had just been told that she had lost all memory of the past eight years of her life and she honestly didn't know if she believed this insanity or not. On one hand, there were all these people that seemed vaguely familiar and a certified doctor had been the one to bring her the devastating news. Hermione had always trusted authority and those who were presented with it, but today she wasn't sure how Dr. Harrison could possibly be right. She would certainly remember her own family. Was it even possible that her friends and relatives had actually slipped her mind? If they didn't, then who were these redheads crowding in her room? Hermione felt incomplete and lost, not knowing the correct answer. Even in her early years, she had always been the one to know the solution in a heart beat, while others were left clueless. This switch of roles was what really unnerved Hermione.

Here she was, in an unfamiliar room with a horde of strangers making as much commotion as humanly possible, stopping her from concentrating on her problem properly. To make matters worse, she had been intently stared at for the past several minutes by a teenage girl. Hermione did not actually see the girl staring, but she could feel the unblinking eyes boring into the side of her head. Eventually, when Hermione couldn't pretend to not notice any longer, she turned to face her observer in the eyes and saw herself reflected in the shiny, caramel brown irises.

Hermione's eyes widened like a deer's in headlights and her jaw hit the floor when she looked into the big, brown eyes that reflected her shocked expression. Her heart plummeted and she finally knew that the doctor had spoken the truth. Eight years really had passed without her memory. Hermione moved closer without meaning to, and the girl nervously backed away, obviously frightened by Hermione's sudden reaction. It must be a trick. There was no way that she could fall asleep a sweet, innocent ten year old and wake up as a full grown woman. It was simply not possible.

Panicking, Hermione bounded off the bed in search of the nearest reflective surface. Finding nothing suitable, she practically screamed, her voice cracking at the end, "I need a mirror now! Please!" Every person in the room was now facing her, and she could see the worried expressions on their faces, as if she had lost her mind completely. She honestly didn't care what they thought though. She needed to know the truth, and she needed it now or she really would go crazy. There would be time for some embarrassed apologies later.

The redhead with the horn-rimmed glasses that had been defending his pony tailed relative earlier muttered something that Hermione did not recognize from any language while twirling a slender piece of wood. A few sparks flew out of the end of the stick and a slight popping noise could be heard through the awkward silence. A full body mirror appeared out of thin air and stood in the place where the noise had emanated from, reflecting the afternoon light coming in from the hospital window. No questions were asked about its magical appearance though, and Hermione doubted if she would have gotten a reasonable answer if she had asked.

Seven hurried steps took her in front of the mirror and she stood there in awed silence, her arms outstretched so her fingers barely touched the smooth surface. She scrunched up her nose and the woman reflected at her copied her motion flawlessly. Becoming afraid, Hermione wiggled her fingers and shook her mass of brown, bushy hair. The reflection did the same. As a last effort, Hermione wiggled her ears, something that few people knew she could do. Her motion was perfectly mimicked and Hermione was forced to conclude that this was indeed her own reflection staring back at her.

She looked so different, and it was hard to accept the changes. Hermione noticed how she was about 10 inches taller and that her hair had become slightly less bushy- it was still a frizzy mess though- and she smiled. The smile turned into a look of shock when she saw her teeth. Her overbite was gone! The enormous two front teeth that she had cursed throughout her entire childhood had been replaced by white, average sized ones. She must've had braces sometime in the missing eight years, fixing her smile. Not able to stop grinning now, she noticed the small bump on her chest and blushed. She had certainly grown a womanly, hourglass figure.

Before she could continue pointing out the many differences, somebody cleared a throat across the room. It was Ron. He had come back, and now she knew he wasn't insane. She quickly stepped away from the mirror, wondering how long he had been standing there since she probably had looked pretty idiotic, shaking and making faces to test her own reflection.

"Finally noticed, have you?" he asked, smiling in the doorway. Without meaning to, she noted how his bright hair became even more alluring when the sun hit it, showing the many different shades of orange and red that blended together to make the bright mass of hair. There was a little dimple mixed in with the freckles on his left cheek that flashed when he smiled, something that she hadn't payed attention to earlier. She tried to resist the urge to smile, failing miserably as a wide grin spread across her flushed cheeks.

"Uhh, yea," she replied, her mind far from the conversation.

"I hope they didn't rough you up too bad," he said, tilting his head in the direction of his family.

"Oh, shut it," said the young girl, trying to cover up her obvious smile.

"Now both of you, hush," said the short and round woman. She had curly red hair like her children and her summery, flowered dress was covered by a faded apron. Hermione was reminded of the old black and white TV shows where a sweet stay-at-home mother wore an apron and cooked all day long for her many offspring. She didn't realize that Mrs. Weasley was actually very close to this comparison.

Stepping out of the hallway and into the room, he went to stand by the others. "This, as you've probably figured out, is my family. They're my mum, dad, older brothers, and little sister. This is Bill, Charlie, Percy, George, and Ginny," he stated, pointing to each of the Weasleys in turn. Hermione had a fantastic knack for memorization but felt that she would need to be reminded many more times of these names before she would have them down pat. The only name that had stuck in her mind was George. He had been the one staring intently at the window, ignoring the chaos surrounding him. How he could be so quiet while the rest of his siblings were loud and outgoing was a mystery to her. The look of deep mourning puzzled her even further, since none of the other Weasleys seemed to be grieving.

This left only the black haired boy with glasses to be unidentified. He certainly wasn't related to the crowd of redheads, since he lacked the hair, freckles, and height that all the males seemed to have. He was not part of her immediate family- that she was sure of. Her confusion must have been apparent because the boy rubbed the back of his neck nervously, averting his eyes from her.

"Oh, this here is my best mate, Harry. The one I mentioned earlier," Ron said, walking over to Harry and brotherly swatting his upper back.

The friendly gesture and kind words formed a shy smile on the boy's face, making his green eyes sparkle even more behind his spectacles.

A nurse walked into the room at that moment to remind the large gathering that according to hospital policy, only two people were allowed to visit a single patient at one time. Quickly, the nurse traced an invisible pattern in the air with her own rod of wood, making the mirror disappear without any evidence of its former existence.

Her mother, holding back the tears that were threatening to flow, hugged Hermione and quickly left the room to try and hide her sharp sobs. Mrs. Granger could not hide the sounds though, and the room was filled with the gasps and sudden breaths of her uncontrollable weeping. Her father gave a more firm hug, as he softly promised her that he would see her soon, after she felt well enough for visitors.

Before Hermione could say that she felt perfectly fine now, she was nearly suffocated by the plump woman. The hug was so tight that it felt as if Hermione's lungs were being crushed. She didn't mind though because she could tell it was meant to show love, and Hermione hugged back, trying to convey to her that the message had been received.

A quick pat on the back was given by the oldest male. The others exited with either small nods or waves, leaving her alone with Ron once again.

Hermione collapsed on the mattress and let her head sink into the pillow. It had only been a few hours since she woke but Hermione felt as if she had been up for days on end. Ron sat in the seat next to the nightstand, the same red upholstered chair he had been in when she first saw him in the morning.

"You look so tired," slipped out her mouth when she gazed at his exhausted form. Hermione was just about to apologize, since that comment could be taken as an insult, when Ron chuckled.

"Yea, I probably do. I haven't had a good night's sleep in about a week," he said with a slight smile. He waved off her concerned look and simply said, "I'm fine. Don't worry."

She flashed him an exasperated look that said "of course I'm going to worry" and Ron laughed once more, filling Hermione's insides with cheery warmth. She was glad to be making him smile for once instead of worrying him. It was a nice change of pace. Turning on her side to look at him, she asked something that had been on her mind all afternoon.

"Am I really… a… witch?" she asked, wanting to word it better but not knowing how.

"Yes. You're actually the best witch I know. You were called the smartest young witch of our age a few years ago," Ron answered, a smile playing at the corners of his lips as he looked into her eyes, making her self conscious.

For some odd reason, Hermione believed him. The voice of reason in the back of her head was practically screaming that it was all impossible, but she couldn't help trusting this bloke. Now that she knew that he really was an old friend, she put more faith in him than she did the doctor. Hermione felt that the old her would've done the same.

"Would you mind if I took a quick nap?" Hermione asked, trying to fake tiredness. She knew that the only way he would sleep was if she fell asleep first. She was determined to let him rest up and was willing to pretend to dream peacefully in order to do so - actually sleeping was out of the question since the haunting dream still frightened her.

Ron yawned and nodded, sinking lower into the worn chair. Hermione did not have to fake dreaming for long- Ron was out cold in a matter of minutes. Enjoying the soft feel of the mattress under her tired body, she tried with all of her ability to remember something, anything from the past. Unable to do so after half an hour of nonstop attempts, she settled for staring at the redhead's content face next to her, wondering what sort of dreams he was having.