A/N: Apologies for the slight delay in getting this up; real life has been a bit hectic. Hope you're enjoying so far!

"Ginny, are you up?" Ginny tried to stay perfectly still in her four poster; she had spent the better part of the week trying to avoid Marie, and was actually looking forward to staying with Draco for the weekend. It was Thursday night, which meant just one more day of dodging her roommate like a dementor before she was free. Ironically, her freedom involved sleeping a maximum of two feet from her previous enemy and shopping with Pansy Parkinson for a bridesmaid dress for Ginny's wedding. A wedding that was taking place in three weeks, as she had discovered from her correspondence with Pansy.

Classes went by slowly the next day; History of Magic consisted of Goyle trying to catch her eye. It was as though he channeled all the staring a normal person would do throughout the day into the hour and twenty minute period (it was the only class they shared together). After that class, Ginny shuffled off to Charms and attempted to perform Cheering Charms on her opposite, Zacharias Smith, who was just as irritating as he had been in her time. A lot of wizards were attending school later than they should have been; apparently, the "special mission" Goyle had been assigned to wasn't so special, after all. The Cheering Charm only served to enhance Smith's typical smirk, and Ginny was assigned additional practice (which managed to make the smirk deepen, somehow).

Draco had instructed her to use Professor Grubbly-Plank's fireplace to get to the Manor, which felt awfully strange, but was apparently such a normal occurrence that her Head of House merely shrugged and waved her toward the fireplace when she showed up at the door. "Thanks, Professor Grubbly-Plank, I really appreciate it."

The Care of Magical Creatures professor merely nodded before returning to her paperwork. Dismissed, Ginny grabbed a fistful of green powder, tossed it in the flames, and stated clearly "Malfoy Manor, North Wing" (that was code for Draco's bedroom without saying it in front of her professor). As she jumped in, familiar white walls with silver trim and a very pale man with gray eyes were there to greet her almost instantaneously. Sometimes, she didn't understand why floo travel wasn't used more regularly.

"Draco, er, hi," Ginny stammered as Draco helped her out of the fireplace. "What are you wearing?" Draco was wearing a burgundy and white uniform that she had never seen before, and was a strange contrast to his normal dark colors.

"I got back from my apprenticeship a bit late, so I didn't have time to change. I was actually a bit worried you were going to beat me here," Draco said with a lopsided smile. His words explained essentially nothing since Ginny was unable to recognize his uniform, but she didn't press the matter. "I've been pulling late hours because I've been doing a lot of research on memory conditions and potential causes." Oh, Merlin.

"Your case seems a bit out of the ordinary, but I'm confident we can crack it." There was that Malfoy smirk she had been missing. "I pulled several questionnaires that we use on patients, and I thought we could go through them together and see if this helps us find out what's wrong." Did he work at St. Mungo's? That was about the most un-Draco career Ginny could think of.

"But what if none of them apply?" Ginny asked nervously, trying to resist biting her nails.

Draco sighed. "As I said, nothing I've read quite fits the symptoms you were experiencing, so I'm not sure anything will fit. It may be a spell that's uncommon, so it wouldn't have a set diagnostic system."

Ginny nodded. "If you've looked at everything, I trust you to figure out if it sounds like what's happening with me. Do we need to go through the questionnaire?" Ginny was getting increasingly nervous; she had fooled Draco last weekend into not divulging all she didn't "remember," but if he were going through question-by-question, it would be much more difficult to steer him off course. Ginny started to keep her eyes wide open, not allowing herself to blink, so that her eyes would water enough to force tears if necessary. Years of growing up with Fred and George had made the technique extremely useful.

"Well," Draco hesitated, and Ginny couldn't help but feel a bit guilty. He was clearly excited to try to diagnose her, which was simultaneously vexing and oddly sweet. "Would it be difficult for you?"

Ginny nodded, biting her lip and letting the accumulated water drip down her face. "I'm sorry, Draco, but it's just been so hard at school, if I don't recognize anyone, I wonder if I'm supposed to. And then in class…"

"It's okay, Gin," Draco said soothingly, though she could hear some disappointment dripping from his drawl. He wrapped her into a tight hug and she tensed up for a moment before returning it. It was difficult to say whether she tensed because this was Draco Malfoy, after all, and it was just an automatic reaction, or if the tension was something else entirely, namely the strange warmth of his body and the familiar parchment and vanilla scent.

"Thanks for understanding, Draco."

"We'll figure this out some other way. I won't stop looking until we find out what's happened."

Ginny just sighed against him. "Thanks," she said simply, not knowing how else to respond.

"I can't believe that I have to be pregnant during your wedding; I only get to be Maid of Honor once!" Pansy whined; it was about the tenth time she had said something similar all day, but Ginny had a hard time sympathizing as she was one who was going to be married off in three weeks' time to a near-stranger.

"What do you think of this one? Is the baby bump too obvious?" The dress was ridiculous; tight and low at Pansy's rather large breasts, and then shot out almost immediately afterward.

"No, Pansy, but I think it would look chicer if you wore a form-fitting dress. Don't hide the baby bump; if you have one, that's what's fashionable. You are Pansy Parkinson."

Pansy nodded thoughtfully. "I like where you're going. Watch the dressing room." Pansy tore through the store like the woman on a mission that she was and pulled several dresses that fit Ginny's suggestion. She ended up picking a tight, dark green number, a color that Ginny was learning was very popular in this universe.

"What do you think?"

"I'm a little nervous you're going to show me up, but I like it."

"With your dress?" Pansy scoffed. "Anything would be described as subtle next to that." Ginny had heard many similar descriptions of her dress, which was making her increasingly nervous. She wasn't exactly thrilled about having to marry Draco Malfoy to begin with, but she wanted to at least have a dress she was happy with. The final fitting was apparently next weekend, so she had that long to figure out how to ditch the dress.

After the dress shopping, Pansy took Ginny to an upscale cocktail bar. Everyone that worked there knew both of them by name, and said they would bring by their usual orders straightaway. Ginny was pleasantly surprised to find that her counterpart had the same taste as her, and happily sipped her whiskey-heavy drink.

"Can I ask you something?"

Pansy sipped her cocktail through two small straws before giving her an incredulous look. "Obviously. What is it? You're thinking the table cloths we picked out are too pink, aren't you?"

"No, I think those are great. It wasn't about the wedding. You know I've been having memories sort of coming back to me slowly."

Pansy looked serious now, nodding for her to continue. She appreciated that Pansy could have a serious conversation with her; Ginny couldn't say the same for her roommate.

"Well, I had this weird dream last night about… I think her name was Lacy Lovegood?" Ginny asked tentatively, butchering Luna's first name on purpose. Hermione's whereabouts had essentially been answered (though grimly) through her reading material, she had confirmation on Harry's death, her brothers were fine (or at least alive), and she would look really insane if she asked anyone why her parents weren't in attendance last week. So that left Luna at the top of her list of people she wanted information on.

"Hm, that sounds familiar," Pansy responded, scrunching her eyebrows together in thought. Not a great sign. "Ohhhh. The Lovegoods are part of the Lost Six."

"Sorry?"

Pansy shrugged. "Who could blame you for forgetting history lessons with that barmy professor teaching. I'm amazed you took it for NEWTs. The Lost Six are the six pureblood families that disappeared after the muggles left Hogwarts."

"Oh, I think this is ringing a bell. Who were the rest?"

"I can't remember all of them, but they're called the Lost Six because they all start with the letter 'L.'"

"Is one of them Longbottom?" Ginny asked, putting on her best confused face.

"Yes, that's another. Anyway, completely disappeared. That's the story anyway. You know a lot of the boys have taken care of them." Pansy said the last sentence in a whisper and winked.

"Right, of course. It's so strange having all these vague memories coming back in little bursts."

"I can imagine," Pansy said sympathetically. "Has Draco made any progress?"

"Not really," Ginny responded dismally.

"If anyone can figure out what it is, he will."

"Yeah, I know."

When Ginny returned to the "North Wing" (also known as Draco's bedroom), he was nowhere to be found. She didn't much feel like reading, and found herself fairly shamelessly rummaging through Draco's drawers. She was curious, and knew she could easily make up an excuse if he returned. Near the top of his nightstand, she found a plain black book with silver trim. Closing the drawer, she made herself comfortable on the bed to look through it. It was a photo album, apparently from Draco's childhood.

The first picture showed Draco and Ron smiling forcefully for the camera; one of their parents must have staged it. The next few were mostly Draco with his parents, the three of them generally wearing neutral expressions. On the third page, another Weasley showed up, but this time it was her. Draco was looking at her with a faux-exasperated expression as she stole what appeared to be pumpkin juice.

"That's probably the only genuine photograph in there," a familiar voice interrupted. She looked up to find a sadly smiling Draco.

"I'm sorry, Draco, I was looking to try to find a quill and some parchment, and I found the photo album, and thought it might jog my memory."

Draco nodded and sat on the edge of the bed. "So?"

"So…?"

"Do you remember it?"

And for some reason, Ginny couldn't bring herself to lie in that moment. "No."

"Well, the picture says it all. You stole my pumpkin juice and I was rather irate with you."

"You don't seem to really be mad."

"Maybe not. I didn't say I was angry, anyway; just annoyed."

"And now? For me looking through your things?"

"Just annoyed." But they were both smiling.