He stared down at her and gave a cruel, rictus smile.
"More exceptional than Montague's," he said. Then the smile faded. He kept looking at her; studying her face carefully and then flicking his eyes down over the rest of her.
His gaze seemed softer and darker than usual.
She realized belatedly that she was lying supine on a bed before him. She felt her skin prickle. She sat up quickly.
He stared at her for another moment before glancing away and staring at the wall behind her.
"If you have any hopes involving Montague you should let them die," he said coolly. Then he turned and left.
A week later Hermione had a new dream about Ginny.
Hermione was standing in her bedroom in Grimmauld Place when Ginny walked in.
"You're back early," Ginny said.
Hermione glanced down at her watch.
"Lucky day," Hermione said.
"Yeah," said Ginny, looking slightly awkward. "Um. I wanted to — ask you about something."
Hermione waited.
Ginny tugged nervously at her hair, her face was unblemished.
"I — well — you, obviously know about me and Harry," Ginny said.
Hermione gave a short nod.
"Right. Well. The thing is, I want to be careful. I've been using the charm. But — there's something about Prewetts, they're not like other wizarding families. They just get pregnant somehow. Ron and I were both accidents after the twins came along. So — I was wondering if you'd make me a contraceptive potion. If you have the time. I was always rubbish at potions. If you can't — that's fine. I can ask Padma. I know you're terribly busy. I just — I didn't want you to think I didn't want to ask you."
"Of course. I'll be brewing tonight anyway. It will be an easy thing to include. Do you have a preference about taste? The most effective ones don't taste very pleasant."
"I don't care what it tastes like if it works," Ginny said boldly.
"Well, I've already got a few vials of one variety. I can give them to you now, if you'd like."
"You do?" Ginny blinked and stared at Hermione suspiciously. "Are you—?"
Hermione could see Ginny running a list of possible men in Hermione's life.
"You're not — with Snape are you?" Ginny suddenly choked.
Hermione gaped.
"God — No!" she spluttered. "I'm a healer! I keep a lot of things on hand. Good grief! What — why would you even—"
Ginny looked slightly abashed.
"He's just the only person you ever seem to talk to for long. Aside from Fred, who's with Angelina. Everyone else you just end up fighting with. And not in the hot and bothered, angsty sex later kind of way."
"That doesn't mean I'm shagging him," Hermione muttered, feeling as though her face were about to burst into flames. "He's a colleague. I consult with him about potions."
"You just seem lonely," Ginny said, giving Hermione a long look.
Hermione started and stared at Ginny.
"You don't talk to anyone nowadays," Ginny said. "You used to always be with Ron and Harry. But even before you left to become a healer, you've seemed more and more alone. I thought — maybe you had someone. Granted, Snape would be a weird choice for a lot of reasons — But, it's a war. It's too much for anyone to handle alone."
"Cathartic shagging is Ron's thing. Not mine," Hermione said stiffly. "Besides, it's not like I'm fighting."
Ginny looked at her pensively for a moment before saying, "I think that hospital ward is worse than the battlefield."
Hermione looked away. She had sometimes wondered if it might be, but it had never been a question she could ask anyone.
Ginny continued, "I think of it every time I'm in there. In the field — everything is so focused. Even when someone's injured. You just apparate them away and then head back. You win some. You lose some. You get hit sometimes. You hit back. And you get days to recover if it's bad, or if your dueling partner dies. But in the hospital ward, every battle looks like losing. I'm always more traumatised after being in there than I am by fighting."
Hermione was silent.
"And you don't ever get time off," Ginny said. "You're on duty for every skirmish.They can never spare you, not even to let you grieve. I know, from Harry and Ron, that you're still pushing for the Dark Arts when you go to the Order meetings. I don't agree — but I get it. I realise that you see the war from a different angle than the rest of us. Probably the worst one. So — I'm just saying, if you had someone, I'd be really happy for you. Even if it was Snape."
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"You should probably stop talking now if you still want that contraceptive potion," Hermione said with a glare.
Hermione woke in a state of shock.
Ginny and Harry had been together.
Ginny and Harry had been together and Hermione had no memory of it. There was not so much as a trace of it in her recollection. She'd forgotten it entirely.
Harry and Ginny's relationship had been something she'd forgotten...
Intentionally?
Was that what Hermione had been hiding?
Ginny had still been alive when Hermione was imprisoned. Ginny hadn't been in the final battle. She hadn't been tortured to death alongside the rest of the Weasleys.
Hermione had thought Ginny was still alive until Hannah had told her about the High Reeve.
If Voldemort had known of Ginny's unique significance to Harry her death would have been horrific. Far worse than even what had been inflicted upon the rest of the Weasleys.
Hermione would have done anything to protect Ginny; stolen away her own memories to try to spare her.
For Harry.
For Ginny herself.
Ginny had been a constant friend during the war. Not close, but ever constant in her friendship with Hermione even when schisms had developed in many of Hermione's other relationships. Ginny and Luna and Hermione had roomed together in Grimmauld Place until Luna died.
But Ginny was dead. Malfoy had hunted her down and killed her.
Hermione felt like she was going to be sick.
Was it really all that pointless? She'd locked away her past to protect Ginny not knowing Ginny had already died? Hermione had gotten handed over to Malfoy, and dragged in front of Voldemort, and it was all to protect someone who was already dead.
And Snape.
Hermione had tried very hard since her release to not allow herself to think about Snape.
She'd thought he'd been on their side.
He'd trained her into a Potion Mistress. He had devoted countless hours of his personal time to do so.
Shortly after Dumbledore had been killed, she had descended into the dungeons to Snape's door and asked in a steady voice, "If there's a battle, what potions should I know how to make? That I probably wouldn't be able to find to buy anywhere?" Rather than sneer and slam the door in her face he had invited her into his office.
Until Hogwarts was shut down she had spent every evening until late into the night in his office, brewing one exacting, complicated potion after another. When Hogwarts was abandoned he'd continued to teach her at Grimmauld Place.
The enigmatic man had slowly seemed to thaw from pure exhaustion as he trained her. He had no energy for insults. He was hard and demanding but generous with his knowledge. He had seemed to be one of the only other people who was also bracing himself for a long war.