A Bad Case Of Forgetting by theweirdgirl Rating: PG13 Genres: Drama, Mystery Relationships: Draco & Ginny Book: Draco & Ginny, Books 1 - 5 Published: 10/11/2004 Last Updated: 01/12/2004 Status: In Progress Sequel to Apology Accepted. 1. Chapter 1 ------------ **(A/N: Alright. Ginny's 18. Nothing illegal anymore. Let's pretend that in the last story, she was nearing the end of the school year.)** "Ginny? Ginny! Wake up!" a voice cajoled. Slowly, her eyes fluttered open as they landed on an unfamiliar face. Her brown eyes blinked questioningly at the girl. "Yes?" "Let's go! It's finally our last Potions class!" the girl squealed. "What are you talking about?" The girl stared at her in consternation. "Are you okay, Gin?" "Who are you?" "It's me..." she replied warily. "Veronica. Your housemates for, oh, let's say, *seven years*. What's wrong with you, Gin?" "Stop calling me that!" she snapped. Ginny pushed her covers back and pulled on a shirt and jeans. She opened the door and ran down the stairs, out of the room. She strolled down the deserted corridor and frowned. Where was she? "Ginny! You're okay!" a deep voice called out. She spun around to see a man with silvery blonde hair and captivating gray eyes. He wore a black robe and black trousers. Quite depressing. She cleared her throat. "Who are you?" she questioned. He raised a perfectly sculpted brow. "Excuse me?" "Who. Are. You," she said, purposely prolonging each word. "You're having me on, right?" "Do I look like I'm joking?" He studied her facial features. She wasn't kidding. "Who the bloody hell are you and what have you done to my Gin?" "*Your* Gin? You sound like a bloody misogynistic pig. No wonder she left you," she sneered. A second later, she was floating, *floating*, mind you, down the dreary halls until they reached a small room filled with beds and various remedies of some sort. The man began to talk rapidly to a stout little woman and he dropped her into one of the unoccupied beds. The woman walked over to her. "How are you feeling Miss Weasley?" "Who?" The woman's eyes widened a bit, however, not from surprise. “Oh, dear,” she clucked. She waved a little stick and began to chant some inane words while tutting obnoxiously. “The poor girl's suffering a mild case of amnesia, I'm afraid.” --> 2. Chapter 2 ------------ It had been a week since “The Incident” and Draco couldn't seem to forget it. Apparently, Ginny could. “It's not as bad as it sounds, Mr. Malfoy,” the nurse reassured. “This is only temporary. Anything can trigger her memory block. I think comfortable and familiar surroundings would be nice as she recuperates, but she still has to stay a couple more days until she graduates, I'm afraid.” “Thank you.” Well, she couldn't go home for the hols that was for sure. Questions would arise and suspicion would occur. No, it wouldn't do to let her go home. He would figure something out when the time came. Until then… “Who are you?” “I'm your… your…” Draco stuttered. What *were* they? What was he to her? Just her baby's father? However, he knew what he *should* be… “I'm your fiancé,” he blurted. She cocked her head to the side to study him and shrugged. “Aren't I too young? How old am I, by the way?” “No and 18. You, *we*, have a child. His name is Adrian.” She closed her eyes tightly. A vague picture of a baby with sparkling gray eyes and light hair. She would remember. She would regain her memory. “Are you okay?” “I'm fine. I didn't catch your name.” “I'm Draco Malfoy and you're Ginevra Weasley, Ginny for short.” She wrinkled her nose in distaste. What kind of name was that? She looked down at her hand. She wondered why she didn't have an engagement ring. Maybe they didn't have enough money to buy one. Would she dive headfirst into an unstable financial relationship without thinking? Apparently, she would. “I was thinking… Maybe you'd like to come with me to France as a graduation gift. We can pick up Adrian, too. However, I don't think that you should mention the amnesia, or me for that matter, to anyone in your family. Or anyone else.” She nodded numbly. Why didn't he want anyone to know about him? Was he embarrassed of her? Was their relationship on the rocks when they haven't even gotten married yet? Questions overlapped and wracked her brain. Questions that didn't have answers. She didn't want to ask. She felt odd enough in another woman's body when it was her own. She felt like a third wheel. Maybe she had agreed to this façade wholeheartedly. Maybe her family hated him. Maybe they were rivals. She almost snorted. Fat chance. “Alright. You have six older brothers. Only three of them live with you and the others have gone abroad and I don't know their names. The youngest one of the bunch is Ron and the other two are twins. Fred and George. I can't tell the difference so don't bother to ask me. We'll go over after the graduation ceremony and get everything you need. I'll be right next to you in my animagus form so you don't have to worry.” “What's an animagus?” “Right. Erm… Animal form. We are magic people. Wands, wizards, witches… Do you remember any of this?” She shook her head blankly. Was he on something? A small boy with blonde hair ran in. “Professor Malfoy. Professor Dumbledore told me to tell you that class is about to start.” Draco waved the boy away impatiently. He left immediately. “I believe you have Professor Snape first period. It's a potions class. You'll probably just listen to a boring lecture the entire period because today is the last day of classes. Tomorrow is the graduation rehearsal and the day after is the graduation. After that, you go home. If anything's wrong, feel free to find me. I'll drop you off in your potion's class.” She got up from the bed and followed him out of the room. They walked in companionable silence until they reached a classroom lined with books on the shelf. An image of a frazzled brunette popped into her head. “Is Professor Snape a woman with brown hair?” Some girls that passed by giggled inanely. “No… You're probably thinking about Hermione Granger. She's a bookworm, a know-it-all and one of your best friends. She graduated last year to become a researcher. Professor Snape is a man with black hair, dark eyes and a darker personality. I wouldn't advise you to speak unless being spoken to.” She nodded. She walked into the classroom and immediately headed to the back, obscuring herself from the teacher's sight. Eventually, kids began to file in. Draco was right. He talked throughout the entire period. Eventually, the bell rang. Everyone got up and left, talking animatedly. She frowned, furrowing her brows, not sure where to go from here. Slowly, she made her way into the hallway, not noticing the curious stares of the morbid wizard following her stance. She kept on a faux smile for all the kids who waved hello. It was sort of an odd feeling to keep up a cheery disposition when she felt like she wanted to go lie in a gutter and cry. She had no idea what she was doing. An image flashed though her mind. There was water… Water, black hair and vibrant blue eyes filled with malicious intent and unspeakable horrors. A shiver wracked her small frame. She continued down the hall to be stopped by this tiny boy with silver hair, very much like Draco's. Only, he was mousier, for a lack of a better description. She could feel that she liked him. Friends, of course. It was just a feeling… Kind of like a momentary nostalgia. “Hi, Gin!” he greeted exuberantly. “Hi… erm… What was your name again?” He stared at her with questioning eyes. “Have you been tippling the brandy bottle?” he asked cautiously. “I drink?” “No. Have a sense of humor, would you?” “So… Do I know you and do you know my next class?” “You know me. My name is Colin and your next class is Herbology. What is *wrong* with you?” “Why does everyone assume that there's something wrong with me? Maybe it's you lot that's touched in the head.” “Well… It sounds like the Gin I know and love very dearly. Will you be able to get to class okay?” She instantly felt remorse for her outburst. “Ah… No. Could you direct me to Draco Malfoy's class?” “Sure. It's up that left staircase, seventh door to the right. I'll see you later, okay?” “Okay.” She followed his directions and landed outside of the room. She peered inside and saw him sitting at his desk, his face in his hands. He looked so tired, so forlorn. She couldn't bare to see his so broken. And to think, she barely even knew the man. She could understand why she'd give up financial stability for him, though… She softly knocked on the door pane, startling him. “Ginny! Aren't you supposed to be in class?” “I don't know,” she answered truthfully. He gave a smile past his years. “What's wrong?” she queried. “Nothing.” “You're lying. I'll ask you again: What's wrong?” “I miss the old Ginny,” he blurted. “I miss the way you'd cut class just to be with me. I miss the way you ran your hands through my hair. I miss the way you felt, writhing beneath me. I miss the scent on my pillow after you left. I just miss everything about you.” “Well, since we'll be married, you won't miss me. Her. Whatever.” “That's the thing. You don't know. You don't remember. You're her body. I want her soul. After all this time, I've learned to… to love her.” She watched as he poured out of his shell and declared undying (sort of) love for her. She felt miserable for not being able to soothe his being. She wanted to be able to protect him. A surge of possessiveness passed through her. “I guess I know why I'd give up financial stability to be with you,” she smiled. He frowned. “I'm very well off, thank you very much. I **do** own two manors and three vaults in Gringotts.” “Er… Right. Gringotts.” “It's the bank.” “Oh.” “Why would you think that we'd live in poverty?' “The lack of engagement ring. Unless that's the way we planned it, then by all means. I didn't mean to insult you or anything, it's just-“ “Let's go buy one.” “No! I didn't do this so you could spend your money. I was just kind of… wondering…” “I understand. And you're right.” How could he be so stupid to say that they were engaged? Of course, he wouldn't mind it at all. He'd like it very much actually. But how could he forget the ring? It's all women rave about. Then again, Ginny wasn't like most women. Plus, he still had the one he used to propose to her the year before. He kept it in his room at all times for sentimentality's sake. Merlin, he was getting soft. “Come with me,” he murmured, ushering her out of the classroom. She followed obediently. Silence erupted. She studied the intricate designs on the walls as the walked down corridors upon corridors. Her eyes watched the portraits and the knights. She scrutinized the ghosts that floated along, heads in the clouds. They soon stopped in front of a portrait of a snake. An image of an enormous snake-like figure popped into her mind. She couldn't see the eyes of the monster. It's scaly skin brushed hers as it slithered by. But the eyes… “Give me a few seconds. I'll be right out.” He dashed into the room as the portrait swung open. As he promised, he came out in a matter of moments. He got down on one knee. He wanted to justify her worth. He wanted to do right by her. He wanted to do everything that he should've done, even if it wasn't really her. He couldn't believe that it took her almost dying to make him see the truth. “I love you, Ginevra Weasley,” he cajoled, pulling out the ring box. “Will you marry me?” Uncertainty flashed through her features. It smelled like trouble. “I think that it would be better if you asked me *after* the amnesia wears off. I don't know. Maybe I didn't want to marry you, but I'm sure right now that I do. However, I might not think the same way in a few months when I've regained my memory.” “I guess you're right,” he sighed in resignation. “But can you do me one thing? One little favor?” “Sure.” “Promise me that you'll marry me.” “I will.” “Then you wouldn't mind a promise bond.” “A what?” “It's this spell that connects us at a certain emotional level until the prior promise made is kept. If it's broken, both parties will suffer immense heartache. It's usually for lovers where one spouse has gone off to war or something.” “Will it hurt? I mean, having it *cast* on me?” He smiled at the way she used the word `cast' like it was a profanity. “No.” “Okay. Just making sure.” He brought out his wand and whispered the words he memorized by heart. “Nos pollicitus amo.” (A/N: I **think** it's Latin, meaning `We promise to love.') His wand sparked to life, shooting electric jolts that felt like fire burning through her veins. For some reason, it was only a primitive feeling that she could submit to. She promised. **(A/N: I promise reviews make me update faster. *hint hint*)** -->