Into the Dark by cosmopolitan411

1. Prologue

disclaimer: had I owned HP it wouldn't have ended in the manner that it did, that much I can promise you.

Into the Dark

summary: They say that those who try to forget someone never even really loved them, but sometimes it just hurts too much to remember.

Chapter I: Prologue

In Bermondsey in Burberry, you held me at the barricade, the pigs arrived with tear gas
And I wept at the mistakes we made
We stalked the streets like animals
And danced as windows shattered
For our island, for the thrill of it, for everything that mattered

Oh, how could anyone not want to rip it all apart?
Oh, how could anyone not love your cold, black heart?

(Barricade by Stars)

“You know, I've never actually believed in all this,” she admitted with a sniff, roughly wiping away a stray tear that was running down her cheek.

“What?” the doctor asked her, genuinely intrigued as he propped his chin upon his fist, taking on the classic thinking position—one that rather suited the almost pensive-like doctor, she noted.

“This,” she repeated, waving her hands around, aimlessly motioning towards the entire office. “All of this. I've just always thought that—well, I don't know… I've just always felt that you shouldn't run away from problems, shy away, only because you're scared of some pain. I've always believed that—that life's made up of its little ups and downs because that's what makes it so perfect, that's what makes you appreciate the good all the more, you know? Irony though," she let out a sarcastic and spiteful laugh, none too amused. "That's karma's little bitchy gift, I suppose,” she spat angrily. “I mean it really is ironic that I, of all people, am here now… asking you to do this…”

A small smile pulled at his lips as he patted her extended arm, that was limply lying on the table, lightly with his available hand. “you know, I have a mantra of sorts with these sort of things,” the doctor told her, raising his head off of his propped up hand, moving the arm and crossing it with his other as he cocked his head to the side. “It's a quote by Alexander Pope actually, from a poem called `Eloisa to Ableard,'” he explained. “And in it he makes this one poignant point, he says: How happy is the blameless vestal's lot! / The world forgetting, by the world forgot. / Eternal sunshine of the spotless mind!”

She scoffed. “Well I guess it'd be rather hypocritical of me to disagree now, wouldn't it?—given why I'm here and all… although, I have to admit that I'd really like to…”

He shrugged, chortling lightly. “I wouldn't be so pessimistic about it though.”

“I just-” she stopped herself with a deep sigh, aggravatingly running a hand through her hair. “I just hate myself for being so weak; I suppose… you know, not being able to face my problems head on. After all, isn't life supposed to be about all of the little blunders and screw ups?”

He shrugged helplessly, again. “If it was, then I'd be out of business.”

She laughed lightly despite herself. It was a morose and hollow one, though, more so out of self-pity than for the joke itself. “Do you… do you think I'm making the right decision by doing this?”

“Well I don't really know you, now do I? I'm afraid that you're the only person that can actually answer that question,” he honestly answered her with a sympathetic smile.

“Yeah,” she nodded, pulling her lower lip between her teeth and biting it lightly. “I suppose so… but, if you were me, would you do it?”

He let out a deep breath, pausing for a second before he answered. “If it hurts so much that you don't know how to go on with the pain, how to go through every day with that constant reminder in your head of how much it hurts, then yeah… I really would.”

She nodded.

author's note: in all honesty, i really shouldn't be starting another fic, but i just got the idea while watching "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" this morning and couldn't help myself... also chapters for this fic will probably be rather long for this one, in contrast to pieces like Unearthed and Unnerved...

p.s. NOTE: the premise of this fic is based off of "Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind" but the story itself will not be like the film, I don't plan on writing the script with different names, placing Harry where the Joel should be and Hermione in place of Clementine.

p.p.s. I'll also probably need two betas for this fic, tends to help when one is incapacitated at the moment to have two, so if anyone would like to offer please note that i rely heavily on my beta's opinions so I'll also need feedback, can be brief (and i don't mind you being brutally honest if you must--not at all, actually) but i really need one that'll just tell me what works and what doesn't. that's crucial for my writing process.

thank you and please review.

-->

2. Prologue, part 2: Technicalities

Chapter II: Prologue, part 2: Technicalities

One need not be a chamber to be haunted;
One need not be a house;
The brain has corridors surpassing
Material place.
~Emily Dickinson, "Time and Eternity"

“How does this actually work?” she asked, biting her lip lightly as she fidgeted in her seat while looking up at him wide eyed, anxiety radiating off of her.

“We'll go from the beginning to the end…”

“How exactly?” she pestered.

He paused for a second, eyeing her oddly and she almost thought that he might kick her out, saying that she wasn't ready for something like this. Thankfully, though, he didn't. “See those blue potions aligning the wall behind you?” he asked.

She tuned towards the wall, scrutinizing it for a minute before turning to him and nodding sharply.

“It's called memoria novus ordo,” he informed her.

Hermione winced. “Memory new order?”

The doctor shrugged, immediately comprehending her silent question. “Someone wasn't feeling particularly creative, I suppose. It truly is an atrocious name, isn't it?”

Hermione laughed lightly despite herself. “Yes, I suppose it is,” she admitted with a shy nod.

“Well, either way, it is effective,' he assured her. “What it does is while you're on the potion you will reiterate stories of your time together and it will manipulate them, deciding whether to erase them completely or reorganize them so someone will take this person's place in your mind.”

“How does it do that?” she asked, thoroughly intrigued. “How does it know when?”

“It really all depends on how important of a lesson it was, if it's something that had a great impact on your maturation or mental development it merely alters the memory so someone will take this person's place in his stead… ergo why we call it safe brain damage. How, exactly, it does this though, no one quite knows.”

She nodded slowly. “And once… once I do this…”

“No turning back. If you go off the potion too soon it will leave your psyche so disrupted that you'll incapacitated and he'll be out off your mind either way since you're going to put something with the essence of him in that potion… it'll just immediately erase him and anything associated to him if you try to stop the process after drinking the potion.”

“Why?”

He shrugged regretfully. “No one truly understands the exact workings of the potion to tell you the truth; I suppose people are just too thankful for the miracle that they're afraid to rationalize it. I, however, believe that that might be the first step in the process, deleting his face and name and any situation where he comes up before it moves on to rebuilding the memories… but this is the mind, no one can really find all of the answers to the brain, it's just a theory.”

“But is it safe?”

He nodded. “I've never had a misstep with it save for when people tried to break free of its influence; we've begun restraining people though, to stop them from trying to… I figure it's better to take away their choice then leave them permanently brain damaged.'

She swallowed, trying to rid herself of the growing lump in her throat. “So it's all or nothing?”

He shrugged. “Pretty much, yeah… so are you sure you want to do this?”

She sighed, letting out a deep breath as she looked at the potions. “Hand me one, will you?”

author's note: this is another short chapter, but I don't want it to be with the memories so I decided to separate it. Anyway, so sorry for the wait, and I do hope you'll forgive me, but please review, good or bad it's always appreciated!

p.s. last chapter I posted a notice asking for a beta, but it's been so long that I'm not sure if people's schedules have changed so I'm reposting the request just in case.

Thank you!

-->

3. Life in Retrospect

Chapter III: Life in Retrospect

“The Past - the dark unfathomed retrospect! The teeming gulf -the sleepers and the shadows! The past! the infinite greatness of the past! For what is the present after all but a growth out of the past?” -Walt Whitman

“I—I just don't know where the bloody hell she is… I've searched everywhere, even called in an embarrassingly large amount of favors with my ties at the Auror department so they'd help, but nothing,” he groaned, running a hand through his hair and taking a rather deep sip from his whiskey. “What do I do, Ron?”

Ron sat dumbfounded as he watched one of his best mates sit there, absolutely lost. He was irrevocably befuddled, perplexed as to how and when everything became so damn discombobulated. It Hermione and Harry for Merlin's sake, the two were a super duo, never meant for such a hellish fate. The earth was upside down, he concluded, that was the only thing that could give some sense to this whole nonsensical affair.

“Ron?”

“Um… what? Right… sorry, I was off… just you know…. Woolgathering…”

“Woolgathering?”

He shrugged. “Luna says it rather often, I picked up on it, I suppose. But, anyway, are you absolutely sure you searched everywhere?” the look he received in response to that question was so volatile that even trying to describe it still sent chills down his spine. “Right… well, then—ugh, I don't know what the hell to say, really,” he bluntly admitted.

Harry groaned, throwing his head down onto the table with a resounding sound that made Ron wince. “Fuck,” he heard his mate mutter, face still plastered to the table.

“Um… mate?”

“Yeah?” the muffle reply came.

“Well… if you don't mind me asking and all, what the fuck were you two arguing about this time?”

Harry shrugged again, a reaction that only received an eye roll from Ron, before he finally lifted his head up a bit, but only so much so that he could look at his friend properly as his chin still stayed propped up against the table. “The usual.”

“Being?”

“Nothing… but somehow everything all at once, how fucked up is that?”

“He… he was my everything. It's pathetic, I realize that, but true nonetheless,” she spoke, not sure where the words were really coming from, but from the second she sat in the chair, downed that potion and allowed herself to be strapped down she found herself reiterating every memory, every feeling she had about Harry and all she could say was that it hurt like a bitch.

“From the second I saw him I loved him, maybe not in the romantic sense, but surely in a platonic one… I could see a partner in him, solace… oasis. I looked at him and immediately just saw someone that I knew I would be able to connect to on a wholly different plane and it thrilled and scared me all at once… it was brilliant really, once in a lifetime feeling to be sure.”

She sighed, pausing for a second before beginning again. “He didn't quite seem to reciprocate that little epiphany though—he nor Ron, come to think of it. It actually took guilt and anger to get them to really notice me—Ron's, very late, guilt over having made me cry and, inadvertently put me in danger, and Harry's anger over Ron's cruelty… and the inadvertent repercussions of it. After that they seemed to accept me… but, at times, I still can't help but wonder what would have happened had that giant never come… had—had they never seen what taunts could do to a person…”

“You think they wouldn't have been your friends were it not for that twist of fate?” she heard an anonymous voice ask her, from where she didn't know, but it just seemed to act as a cloud over the memories she was reliving in retrospect, guiding her from memory to memory it seemed.

“No… I think they would have gone on ignoring me save for when they needed help with homework, maybe…”

“Mhm.”

She had never thought that a simple hum could hold such clout until that very moment.

“I—I got an odd report today…” Harry murmured as he stumbled into Ron and Luna's sitting room looking absolutely lost.

“Is it about Hermione?” Luna asked worriedly.

“Yeah,” he numbly answered.

“Well that's great, mate, first news in three days now. That's spectacular, a relief, really.”

“No,” Harry shook his head adamantly. “Not a relief.”

Luna furrowed her brows. “What is it, Harry?”

“One of the blokes down at the Auror department was tracking her financial records for me, checking for any new withdrawals or credit card uses… she's put down a first and last payment for some apartment in Notting Hill…” he told them as he threw himself onto the chesterfield, eyes wide as he stared at the wall before him, heaving.

Luna gasped and Ron bellowed: “what?!”

“I was the bookworm of the lot and for a while I honestly thought I was content with that title… I mean the fact that I was useful in that respect was undeniable, I'd been saving their arses from first year and on with the help of my books, but, in the end, it wasn't enough. Despite how hard I worked for my intellect I hated that that's all I'd ever be recognized for. People noted Ron and Harry's bravery, but never mine, it was as if I didn't exist, and at that time I never expected Ron to come to my defense—he wasn't exactly the most gentile of blokes back then nor a good mate of mine, really—but what killed me was that Harry never noted it either, not once.”

“Did anyone ever notice you then?”

“Yes… Neville did. He… I don't think anyone realized how close the two of us were, for a long time I considered him a far superior friend to Ron and Harry, he came first for so long, but no one ever noticed that, they only noticed Harry and Ron, ergo they only ever noticed me when I was with them, assuming they were my only mates then since they didn't see me when with anyone else. But Neville… Neville always saw me, he was always interested in what I had to say, thought, or worried over. He cared.”

“Are you two still friends?”

“Best of… Ron and Harry only even noticed the extent of it a month ago really.”

“Let's not get ahead of ourselves.”

“Oh, right, sorry.”

“Tell me about your friendship with Neville, what was his role, explicitly.”

“Like I said, he was the one that cared. Ron and Harry noticed me when they needed me—that not really ever changing until we finally reached seventh year… Neville was surprisingly intelligent, maybe clumsy and forgetful, but beneath the surface was one of the most profound individuals I'd ever met… and he really… he just cared,” she reiterated—not even sure why when such repetition as usually so unlike her, but all she knew was that she needed to… felt compelled to.

“I see.”

“So this is it?” Ron asked, blowing into his hands in a futile attempt to keep them warm, as they arrived at a posh little brownstone that was red whereas all the others were pale yellows or some oddly named shad of white—it was very Hermione, he had to admit, original…

“Yeah,” Harry nodded, looking up at the building, even cocking his head to the side a he silently observed it, at a total loss as to what to do next; he still couldn't grasp how the hell she could just up and leave like that. What made Notting Hill so much better than their shared place in Kensington anyway?

“Want to go in?” Ron asked after a moment's hesitation.

“Can we?”

Ron shrugged. “Worth a shot, isn't it?”

“Yeah,” Harry nodded. “I suppose you're right, let's go.”

author's note: so I was initially going to make this chapter much longer [it's only 1173 words, not including this note] but after mulling it over I decided to split this chapter and combine it with the next as I realized that this one was so packed with information in the first half that what Hermione said in the second half was really just oversdhado3wed by these initial revelations so it somehow felt off.

Anyway, please review; tell me what you think, honestly.

Thank you for reading and happy holidays!

p.s. this chapter hasn't been viewed by my beta yet [or, at least, not that I know of] but since it's been so long I decided to post and then replace this chapter when she got it back to me.

-->

4. Must Be Something in the Water

Chapter IV: Must Be Something in the Water

A memory is what is left when something happens and does not completely unhappen.
-Edward de Bono

“Blast through the bloody door for all I care, this is ridiculous!” Harry grunted as Ron turned over any pots near the townhouse, searching for a key after having wrestled with the door knob for a pathetic fifteen minutes.

“You know she'd kill you if she came home to find that,” Ron chastised, moving to a flower pot and carefully digging through it.

“Do you think I even care anymore? I can't believe she could just move out like that, without even a damn trace or anything. Since when does Hermione Granger, of all people, run away form her problems like this?! It's pathetic,” Harry spat, kicking the door gruffly before stuffing his hands in his pockets and leaning against the door with a scowl.

“Hah, found it!” Ron exclaimed jovially.

Harry turned to look at him, his scowl dropping for a second to be replaced with a look almost semblant to hope… before he quickly picked it back up again. “Where was it?”

Ron reddened, quite unattractively at that. “On top of the door sill,” he muttered embarrassedly as he stabbed the lock with the key.

Harry rolled his eyes at the response, but immediately pushed Ron out of the way as soon as the door was unlocked and hightailed through the door and through the greeting area, exploring the house intrusively and unabashedly. “What the hell?”

He looked at the room in absolute perplexity, befuddlement practically radiating off of him as he stormed through the house, taking ever detail in, his confusion only growing as time passed. Ron followed him, holding back the desire to scratch his head as he cocked it to the side. Instead, he opted for trying to maintain Harry's pace, quite a feat as Harry whizzed from room to room.

Suddenly, however, he stopped, and in the middle of Hermione's new bedroom/

Ron ran right into Harry's back, almost toppling over, but Harry caught him just in the nick of time. Ron straightened himself, huffing as he turned to his friend. “What is it, Harry?”

“Girls never really liked me. I think that with my insecurities I always came across as extremely stuck up—as if I was the one that didn't find them worthy off my attention when really it was the other way around, I didn't think they'd be interested in me... that they'd find me dull. I loved the boys though, thy just accepted me as one of their own… some would call it a curse to be one of the boys, so to speak, but I relished that sense of acceptance. It was what I had always wanted.”

“We had a rocky start, one that I think will always be marred by my own insecurities, but, ultimately, they were always there when I needed them. The relationship was as reciprocal as our personalities would allow it to be. I mean, boys will be boys, so Harry was always a tad closer to Ron. And Ron, well he has that whole cliché red-head temper that, at times, got in the way of our friendship. Still, though, they were the best friends that they could be, I'll admit that.”

“…It's odd, resenting and loving a person a person simultaneously… but, nevertheless, it's still very possible, isn't it?”

“I…I…” Harry's mouth moved, but nothing came out as he looked at the room. Suddenly, he began shaking his head, eyes wide and scared. “What the fuck?!” he finally managed to exclaim.

“Harry, what's going on?” Ron asked, feeling very out of the loop.

Harry raked two hands through his hair. “I know these rooms…”

“What are you talking about?”

“You have to promise to believe me right now, regardless of how crazy or stupid it may sound,” Harry ordered, not even looking at Ron, but at the room before him.

“Um… okay?”

“Hermione and I went shopping a month ago at Ikea… mate, I saw these exact rooms there.”

“What?” Ron asked, absolutely baffled. “How is that possible?—This isn't Ikea, mate…”

“No, but this is an exact replica of their display rooms…”

Ron's jaw went slack as he let himself fall onto the nearest chair. “What's going on, Harry? What did she get herself into?”

“I… I don't know, but I'm scared,” Harry admitted, still staring at the room, wide eyed.

“With time, though, I fell for him.'

“Who?”

“Harry,” she breathed out his name, almost longingly. “It hit me totally off guard, one second he was just the attractive best friend, and then… all of a sudden, out of nowhere really, I was falling harder than I knew I was capable of.”

“Just like that?”

“Yeah,” she admitted. “He made me feel safe and dangerous all at once, it was amazing. With him, I could take risks that I would never even normally consider, but still feel as if I was doing the most natural thing in the world, as if there wasn't even any risk to what I was doing. It was amazing… empowering… innate.” She smiled at the though, licking her lips before continuing. “I didn't have to always follow the rules, I could break out of my shell and be that person that I wanted to be, but was afraid of at times… it was just amazing,” she breathed out wistfully.

“Take me back,” the disconnected, distorted voice suddenly ordered her.

“To when?”

“When you first realized you were in love with this Harry.”

She nodded, swallowing the large lump in her throat. “Okay… well, it was sixth year and Harry decided that I had gone on avoiding brooms for far too long.”

“Ah, Harry, no don't, please!” I begged, smiling despite my fear.

“I don't know if I can do that, Hermione… it's just not right, is all. I mean not knowing how to fly is just wrong, love!”

“Oh come on, please!” I cried as he picked me up and threw me over his shoulder, making his way over to the quidditch pitch with a broom in his opposite hand.

“Please!” I begged again, but the request came upon deaf ears as he just merrily continued upon his way, a wide grain spread across his face, too.

He finally set me down when in then middle of the pitch, grabbing his broom and forcing me to seat myself on it as he took on right behind me.

“I'm scared, Harry,” I timidly admitted, wincing at the way that my voice broke as I made the admission.

He smiled, kissing my cheek before whispering in my ear: “I'll be right here the entire time, no need to fret, I would never let anything happen to you.”

“Okay,” I nodded with a blush as he kicked off the ground and slowly headed upwards.

“Don't squeeze those eyes shut, Hermione, you're ruining the entire point of all this.”

I sighed, silently cursing him for forcing me to do this. Finally, though, I slightly opened my left eye, grimacing as I noted how high up we were. I squeaked in fear when I fully opened both. “Oh my God!” I gasped.

The bastard only laughed though, squeezing my waist lightly. “It's okay, I'm here.”

I smiled, leaning back into his chest, letting myself trust him and forget my fears. He made me feel so… illogically safe in even the worst of cases.

“It's beautiful, isn't it?” he whispered into my ear as we hovered above the school.

“Yeah,” I breathed in agreement, surprising myself with how I wasn't scared, regardless of the fact that we'd achieved unnatural heights.

He grinned, moving my face to look at his. “I promised I wouldn't let you fall and I kept my word, didn't I?”

And at that moment I realized that no, he hadn't… it just wasn't the literal sort of falling, which really only made it all the trickier.

But in response I only whispered a weak “yeah”, moving my eyes from him to the sight before us, trying to ignore the rather daunting epiphany that had hit me.

It was official, I was screwed.

I think there's something in the water
Or then again
It could be something in the air
But there's none to be found
In the dirt on the ground
And the choices I've made are ad hoc anyway

-The Jealous Girlfriends, "Something in the Water"

author's note: I've actually had this for ages so I have no idea how I just forgot to post it, I am so sorry for the wait though. Life has been rather hectic as off late with me juggling between a dual major, training, and… well the fun parts of the student life style. I will try, however, to post a new chapter asap, as well as do so with all of my other pieces.

Please review!

-->

5. The Crime of Love

Chapter V: The Crime of Love

“The crime of loving is forgetting.”

-Maurice Chevalier

He stumbled back, falling onto the bed as he gripped his face in shock. “What's going on, Ron?” he groaned, his voice muffled by the hands covering his face.

Ron fumbled at first, not sure how to respond to that rather loaded question. “I don't know.”

Harry nodded, releasing a deep and frustrated breath as he tried to recollect himself. “Okay,” he said, his voice hoarse as he spoke. “Okay… do we have anyone tracking her accounts?”

“Um… uh… I don't think so, actually. Want me to call in and get someone on it?—I'm sure one of the interns can handle that…”

“Okay,” Harry repeated, nodding. “Can you call in now?”

“Sure,” Ron assured him, leaving the room to make the call and give Harry some space to think a bit.

Harry clenched his jaw as he threw his head back, allowing his entire body to fall back with it. “Fuck, Hermione, what the hell did you do?” he muttered to himself as he stared up at the ceiling.

“It was a slow process from there on out, and a very awkward one, too,” she admitted. “Falling in love with him was such a drastic turn; the epiphany shocked me to the core, honestly. It scared me, the realization that I really didn't have any control, that I couldn't do anything… I've always been a rather organized individual so it… it was disconcerting.”

“How so?”

She couldn't stop the shiver that ran down her spine, no matter how long this ongoing conversation with that disembodied voice lasted it never failed to creep her out. There was something so ominous about it… so finite.

She sighed, licking her lips as she tried to compose herself. “I'm Hermione Granger, the plain bookworm… one of the guys, that's hardly Harry-Potter-girlfriend material. There were girls out there like Ginny and veelas like Gabrielle that were vying for his attentions, how could I possibly compete with something like that?”

“Well apparently you could,” the voice noted.

She blushed at the reminder. “Yes, how still baffles me, honestly. I mean I've always been very secure in myself, but in terms of the physical I could never quite find any confidence. Plus, it didn't really help that in being Harry's best mate spiteful girls were always more than willing to point out all of my fallacies; they seemed to find the activity quite joyous, actually.”

“And you believed them?”

“How could I not? They were so beautiful, and I was just the plain girl with the books, hardly anything to write home about… so to speak,” she quickly amended.

“Plain, really?” the voice asked, genuinely intrigued and surprised by the sounds of it.

“Compared to them most are…”

half an hour later Ron walked back into the room only to see Harry still lying on the bed, dazedly staring up at what looked to be crown molding. “Mate?” he timidly asked.

Harry blew out a large breath before pulling his body up, sending Ron an expectant look. “Learn anything important?”

“Well apparently all of these purchases were made in Hermione's name; all paid through her credit card… but there was also something else.”

“What?”

“There's this company, `Spotless Minds, Inc.', and apparently Hermione charged fifteen-hundred pounds on her AmEx there.”

Harry's breath stilled for a second, not quite sure how to take that news. “And… um, who are they?”

“No one knows, I have the plebes researching it, but it sounds gloomy, don't you think?”

“Yeah,” Harry breathed out. “Any idea on when they'll have some news?”

“as soon as possible, I pulled in some more favors from a few of the blokes at work so I could borrow some more of their interns and trainees, but our initial searches brought up nothing so who knows.”

“Ron, what the hell is going on?” Harry asked, his gaze trained on his hands, which here limply lying in his lap.

“Why don't you tell me?”

Harry's head snapped up in surprise at the question and he immediately sent Ron a perplexed look in reply.

Ron blew out a frustrated lungful of air as he plopped down onto the seat next to Harry. “She hasn't been happy for a long time and neither have you, but what's happened that she had to take such drastic actions?”

Harry shrugged. “She was just being oversensitive, what with my hours as of late and all…”

Ron shook his head, a doubtful look on his face. “That's not all; I know Hermione and she's not the sort to have that be her sole reason, not without fighting first.”

“It's Melinda, she saw us talking in my office and we hugged, she didn't take well to it, blew it all out of proportion.”

Ron paused, apprehensively eyeing his best friend. “And that's all?” he asked, his tone laced with suspicion.

“Honestly, Ron, I'm not lying. She just didn't take well to my friendship with Melinda and we fought about that and my working a lot, then we went to bed—me in the guestroom and she in ours—and she just wasn't there in the morning… nor the one after or the one after that…”

“And you're sure she was blowing it out of proportion?”

“Come on, Ron, you know how she can be at times, always quick to accuse.”

“Yeah, I do,” Ron admitted with a weak smile. “But never really with you…”

“When did you two finally get together then?”

“Seventh year, Halloween,” Hermione answered, blushing at the memory.

“Take me back to that moment in time, return to that memory,” he ordered.

“Okay,” Hermione whispered.

“Gopple-googger, Hermione, you look brilliant!” Luna gasped when I came out of me personal bathroom at the Heads” dorm and into my bedroom where I was preparing for the Halloween ball with my recently acquired friend.

I blushed immediately, taking no notice of the odd terminology as I'd gotten used to it ever since we'd started getting closer back in august when we ran into each other at Diagon Alley and finally had a chance to really talk a bit. She was odd, but sweet and genuine, never fake.

“Thank you… but do you really think so, you're not just being nice?”

“Well it wouldn't be very nice of me to lie, would it now?” the perfect Tinkerbelle replica replied. “Besides I think you make an awesome Peter Pan to my Tink… I really loved that film when you introduced me to it!” Luna gushed.

I laughed, looking down at myself. “But do you really think it was a good idea to forgo the tights and wear these pumps… they are rather high, after all…”

Luna groaned and sent me a disbelieving look. “Have you any idea how incredibly sexy you look, Hermione? You have legs to die for, flaunt them in that short dress and those heels! You do them justice, I promise!”

I sent her a doubtful look. “Come on, Luna, I'm hardly beautiful.”

Luna laughed, the sound incredulous rather than joyous. “You really don't get it, do you?”

“Get what?”

“How beautiful you are.”

“Don't lie,” I weakly mumbled, shifting my gaze downward at those words.

“But I'm not. You're not the general perception of it, but you're so much better, in my opinion. Look at yourself, Hermione,” she ordered me, pushing up my chin and forcing me to stare into the mirror before us. “You've got this amazing curly, sex-hair-”

“Luna!”

“Oh don't act like a prude, we both know you're not a virgin,” she chastised me with a wicked little grin on her face, truly befitting of her character, too. “it's absolutely ethereal, Hermione, and any bloke that fails to realize that is an idiot who doesn't deserve you… even if he is the savior of the wizarding world.”

Those words drew a surprised gasp from my mouth. “How… how do you know?”

She tilted her head to the side, a soft smile gracing her lips. “We haven't been friends long, Hermione, but despite that we've spent a lot of time together, gotten rather close, and I've learned to read you. Don't worry, though, Ron and Harry are absolutely clueless like typical blokes.”

“How long have you known?” I quietly asked.

“Not long… only realized about two weeks ago, actually.”

“You could have told me.”

She shrugged. “I was biding my time, waiting for the right moment.”

I nodded, silent. “Well you definitely chose a good one,” I smiled, flushing a bit.

“Glad to hear it… come on, let's got party-hearty like it's 1999!”

I laughed loudly. “That's it, no more muggle movies for you, this is becoming ridiculous!”

“I don't know what to yell you, Ron, it's the truth… I don't know what to say to assure you, you can either believe me or not, it's your choice,” Harry noncommittally shrugged.

“But haven't you considered that-”

his question, however, was cut off by the distinct shrill of his WiziCell, and he couldn't help but blow out a frustrated breath as he internally cursed the blasted thing for interrupting such a crucial moment.

“Fucking shite,” he angrily muttered as he flipped it open. “What?!”

“Um… sir, it's Andrews… from the Auror Department,” a hesitant voice rang through the line and Ron couldn't help, but roll his eyes at the density of the dolt speaking.

“I realize that, I have caller id,” he sharply reminded “Andrews”.

“Oh, right, sir… my apologies,” the boy muttered and Ron could practically hear the blood rushing to his face as he uttered those words.

“And what is it that you called me about…?” Ron goaded when the kid made no move to speak after that apology.

“Oh… um, right, of course! Well, apparently we got a lead on Spotless Minds.”

“And?”

“Well it's not anything concrete, most of it is gossip we've picked up, there is no real advertisement or anything that we could find, but from what we could gather it appears that the company is for forgetting.”

Two brows drew together too create a unibrow at that point. “Forgetting?”

“Yes, major events and extensive amounts of memories, to be exact.”

Ron stilled, his eyes widening and his breath coming out in shaky pants as the full connotation there hit him. “can-” he stopped as his voice cracked a bit, coughing. “Can you elaborate?” he asked, his tone gruffer that time.

“Well, apparently, it's most often used for forgetting people… all of the gossip we were able to pick up on revolved around that, at least. It's a safer version than the regular obliterate as while they do get rid of the memories really important events and lessons are modified to subtract the person meant to be forgotten from the center of the memory and either completely erase them or make them an accessory.”

“And, um… how do you know this if the people you're talking about went under the procedure and forgot that event…?”

“Like I said, it's gossip, I didn't actually ask how they knew this.”

Ron tightly shut his eyes, trying to steady hi temper. “And why didn't you ask?”

“I didn't think it relevant…” Andrews sheepishly admitted.

Ron groaned. “Call me if you learn anything else, and give me sources and explanations this time, understand?”

“Yes, sir,” Andrews replied, tone apologetic.

Ron then shut his phone with a slam, slamming his head back against the wall he'd been leaning against. “Fucking hell, Hermione, what have you done?!” he muttered to himself as tried to regain composure.

He cracked his knuckles as he pushed off the hallway wall, heading back to the room Harry was waiting for him in. “mate, you're not going to like this,” he prepped Harry as he made his way into the bedroom.

“May I have this dance?” a voice I knew all too well asked me from behind the second Luna and I walked into the hall that had been converted for the event. I turned around and had to stifle a laugh at the sight of cape, mask, and moustache clad Harry. “Oi, no mocking! I've been told I make a rather fetching Zorro,” he immediately defended, reading my thoughts.

“Well your fan club would probably also tell you that you make a sexy ogre.”

“Well I bet I could,” he retorted, looking rather glum.

Luna giggled. “I think what Hermione's trying to say is yes, she will dance with you, but needs to mock you a bit first. Now that that's over with though, feel free to take her for a turn on the floor,” Luna pushed Hermione, none too gracefully either, into Harry's awaiting arms.

“Will do,” he winked at Luna before grinning down at Hermione. “Ready?”

I bit my lip as I looked up at him. “I thought you hated dancing.”

“well the sight of you in that sexy little outfit was incentive enough, I'd hate to see some other bloke groping you on the floor when I could be,” he replied with a cheeky smile as he pulled my body flush against his once we reached the dance floor.

I hushed a gasp for the sake of my ego. “And who says I'd want you to grope me?”

“No one, I'm just praying that you might be okay with it… so okay with it that maybe you'll even consider reciprocating,” he answered, his eyes twinkling as he entwined my arms around his neck before moving both hands to the small of my back, rubbing soft and seductive circles into it.

I tried desperately to retain a visage of calmness as he did that. “Because it'd be unfair for us to be on unequal footing…” I ventured, flirtatiously, as I took some initiative and toyed with the strands of hair brushing his neck—an act that he appeared the genuinely enjoy as he closed his eyes, releasing a soft hum.

“Of course,” he said, his voice hoarse. It took him a few minutes to recollect himself, but when he finally did the look was back in his eyes and I had to stop myself from melting at the sight of it, it was better than anything I could have dreamed of. The look was caring, gentle, and downright raunchy simultaneously.

God, I was so screwed at that point!

“So what do you say, Hermione?”

“To what?” I asked, moving my head to rest at the crook of his neck, deeply inhaling his scent, yet another element adding to my slow seduction.

“How about a date with a promise of later groping?”

My body stiffened and snapped back as my eyes widened. That was unexpected, to say the least. “A… a date?” I sputtered rather unattractively.

My reaction appeared to illicit a bit of insecurity as I felt his hands clench from behind me, crackling. “Yeah… as in a non-platonic sort of way, of course…”

I nodded numbly. “Wow.”

“A good wow by any chance?”

I paused for a minute, stunned to silence, but when I finally regained control of my boy I sent him a full smile. “A fantastically mind-boggling wow,” I replied before pulling his face to mine and capturing his lips in a soft kiss.

author's note: well I had planned on updating earlier, but before I could I had to finally decide on an ending as I've had three options that I've been mulling over since the beginning off this story, but I'd never settled on a particular one and that lack of direction was really pestering me. Finally wrote it out though so all was well and I was able to write this.

Hope you enjoyed it and, PLEASE, review!

-->

1. Prologue

2. Prologue, part 2: Technicalities

3. Life in Retrospect

4. Must Be Something in the Water

5. The Crime of Love

6. A Vital Word