It took no more than an hour to get Ron's things through the floo and to the burrow. He'd taken mostly the essentials as he still had a room at his mother's home. Harry had been unusually quiet during the entire affair and when Ron was set to leave again he became worried for his friend.

"Malenda will be fine Harry," Ron said softly, thinking perhaps that was why he seemed so upset, "She'll be back and giving us hell in no time."

Harry gave him a somewhat forced smile, "Yeah, I know..." He didn't correct him, "I'll see you Saturday then?"

"Yep, oh ask Hermione to bring those little muggle biscuits, Jammie something. The ones she eats with her tea?"

"I know the ones," Harry kept his grief perfectly schooled.

"Great." Ron grinned taking his bag and slung it over his shoulder, "See you Saturday."

"Yep." Harry waved him off but as soon as the flames died in the hearth his mind began to spin.

There was no way Hermione was at the store for two hours. Even if she had just left when Ron had gotten there. At most, she'd ever been gone an hour and that had been because she'd wanted to buy some special ingredient for her mother's spaghetti recipe.

Harry ran his hand through his hair, his own stomach was beginning to rumble. Deciding that perhaps she had gone to the bookstore or some other place he decided to get his dinner in Diagon Alley. As much as he didn't want to leave the house without knowing where she was, he also had to remind himself that she was an adult and a very capable one at that.

He jogged upstairs to change out of his work clothes. The thought of a beer with some greasy fish and chips sounding better and better. He kept an ear out as he got changed. A mantra that everything would be fine leaving his lips. He had to talk to her about what he'd learned. There really was no other way. If he didn't, he'd seem like some creepy stalker. He knew that Hermione was fiercely independent and if she knew he was seriously considering putting a tracking charm on her just he could keep tabs on her whereabouts she'd most likely hex him into the next millennia.

oOo

"She's obviously not taking care of herself." Poppy frowned pulling the measuring tape from Hermione's wrist. The young woman in her care was still out cold from the anesthesia.

"Well, she did always do best when she was caring for others." Minerva crossed her legs, resting her hands on her lap. She'd taken a seat on the opposite side of the bed. Poppy had very reluctantly filled the headmistress in on Hermione's state. Knowing that as soon as term started it would be hard to keep Hermione's care a secret.

"Minerva...no you can't do that..." Her voice lowered down, her eyes framed with concern.

"Why not? It seems perfectly logical and the pair of them would no doubt be beneficial to each other." Minerva kept her tone even, the information that she'd gotten from Poppy having sent her mind spinning in multiple directions.

"You would put him through this? She has less than a year, do you really think bringing them together only to have them fall apart would do either one of them any long-term good?" Poppy turned to face her, "Would you seriously consider placing him in a position where he would lose another person who cared for him?"

"But there is hope... isn't there? A possibility that whatever this curse is can be righted?" Minerva pursed her lips.

"You're going to risk the soul of a man who barely has enough in him to live to the next day on the small chance, the very small chance that something can be done in the few months she has left? Her decline will not be pretty. Lacking in memory he may be but he is not so dimwitted. He will know something is amiss." She tried to keep the emotion from her voice, she trusted Minerva explicitly but this...just seemed doomed to blow up in the faces of everyone involved.

"I have faith...that it will all turn out for the better. After all, faith, hope, and pixie dust are all we have left...for either of them." Minerva shifted to her feet, a plan forming in the back of her mind.

"Now you sound like Albus..." It wasn't a compliment.

"Yes, well he does talk an awful lot for someone who's supposed to be dead." Minerva snorted slightly, a wry grin curling the corner of her lips.

"Maybe you could teach Severus' portrait to shut him up, I would pay money to see that," Poppy looked down as she made to give Hermione another potion. 

Minerva snickered, "Let me know when she wakes."

"Of course." Poppy watched her leave before pulling out another vial. She looked at Hermione's peaceful face before slowly pulling it up into the syringe. She wanted to say something, anything really to make herself feel better for what she was about to do. She just prayed that the young woman who trusted her would understand. She screwed the end of the syringe into the catheter, with only a small pause to give herself time to come to terms with her decision Poppy steadily pressed the plunger with her palm. Turning her eyes up, she watched the readings very closely.

oOo

Harry grunted as he finished his second firewhiskey having switched from beer after the second pint. He wiped his lips absently and he leaned back into his chair. The pub was unusually full for a Thursday though not near as rowdy. He tossed a chip into his mouth before a voice from the table behind caught his attention.

"You'll never believe who I ran into today." Draco's voice was low but not secretive. His words paused as he took a drink.

"Who?" Blaise took a bite of his food his brows raised curiously.

"Granger," Draco said on his exhale, though there was no malice in his tone.

Harry shifted in his chair, trying not to turn but definitely paying more attention.

"Granger? Like, Potter's Granger?" Blaise took a bite of his burger, his words somewhat muffled from his full mouth.

"Yeah," Draco leaned back in his chair, "I was going to that one shop you told me about. The one in muggle London. You know, to get Ash something for her birthday. Then bam, out of nowhere, right there on the ground!"

"On the ground?"

"Yeah, she'd looked like she had passed out or something. I wouldn't have even thought to stop if I'd not seen McGonagall there with her. Weird that, her in muggle clothes." Draco laughed a little, "But no, yeah! She was just splayed out on the street!"

"What'd you do?" Blaise was sure that wasn't the end of his story.

"Well I picked her up of course," Draco waved a dismissive hand, "Helped McGonagall take her to Hogwarts."

"Hogwarts? Why not St. Mungo's?"

Draco shrugged, "No idea, didn't figure it was my business."

"Weird. So what did you get Ash for her birthday?"

Harry turned his attention away, his dinner no longer looking all that appealing. He tossed down more than enough to cover for his meal and pushed himself up quickly, grabbing his coat. He completely missed the curious look the pair he'd been eavesdropping on gave him as he pushed towards the door.

He was back at Grimmauld Place in less than two steps and in the door by four. He moved towards the fireplace and threw the powder down.

"Hogwarts Head Office."

Minerva had just stepped through the door to the office when her fireplace flared green. Her brows rose into her hairline when Harry stepped out though he didn't look quite right. His steps were a bit sluggish.

"Mr. Potter?" Minerva moved closer, giving him a once over, "Have you been drinking?"

"A bit," Harry shook his head back into focus, "Hermione? Is she still here?"

Minerva's lips pursed for a moment as Potter swayed in front of her, "Why don't you sit down before you fall down, Mr. Potter."

Harry wanted to glare, scream or shout but his body was way too heavy. Instead, he took the guiding hand that took his arm and flopped down into a nearby chair, "Malfoy, at the pub...here...passed out?"

Minerva turned away to look into her personal potions stores for anything that could help sober him up, though truthfully she believed it would have been better to just let him pass out. She didn't need to be a legilimens to feel the tension wafting off of him and given what she'd just learned herself, she wondered if telling him in this state would be beneficial to either of them. The fates, however, made the choice for her as just when she'd found a bottle of Pepper-up potion Harry let out a rather impressive snore. She turned back to him slowly, setting the retrieved potion on her desk. What an absolute mess.

oOo

Hermione sighed happily as she walked along the ocean's edge. Her travel to such a beautiful place had been just as uplifting as before. She felt completely and totally relaxed. Pain and worry-free. The sunlight was nearly below the horizon but the waves made the waning light glitter so magically.

Though she left behind no footprints in the sand she could feel the warmth of the fine grains beneath her bare feet. She wondered idly if she could walk on water too but decided that she didn't want to test that theory. Instead, she found a small spot just where the water lapped and settled herself down to watch the rest of the sunset. She could actually smell the salt in the air and feel the cool ripples of wind coming off of the water.

Her mind was blissfully quiet, her arms lightly wrapped around her bent knees. It felt like home, safe, warm, and protected. She never wanted to leave. All the worries that she carried with her, the fear and the memories; nothing but distant thoughts carried away by the wind. She wondered if this was what Heaven felt like. If so, perhaps leaving the world behind wouldn't be so bad.

So deep in her thoughts, she hadn't noticed a dark shadow appearing to her left until the sound of soft footsteps ruffled her senses. She turned her head slowly, finding that the shadow was not, in fact, what she believed but rather the figure of a man who stood just a few feet from her. His visage was blocked by the sun that had yet to fully dip below the horizon.

His clothes were dimmed, a gently ruffling white or possibly grey short-sleeved button-up, a pair of shorts that were blue or black and a small basket held down by his side. He wasn't wearing shoes and his shorts exposed rather thin muscled calves. When her eyes rose she found that his head was pointed down, and after a moment he actually bent down. He picked up something from the sand, turning it in his palm after great inspection before settling it into the basket.

When his head rose, Hermione's being pulsed. Those eyes were unmistakable. Even though the rest of his face was mostly obscured by the growing darkness, she didn't need to actually see him fully. She could almost feel him as it were. He stared at her so curiously yet with such intensity. As though he couldn't actually see her clearly. His eyes twitched as his brow furrowed, his eyes narrowing from the action. Was she actually dead? Had she died, right there on some London street? There was no other way to explain what she was seeing now. The thought was only reinforced when she found that she could not will herself to wake up. As though some unseen force was keeping her just as she was.

Hermione swallowed though she knew she didn't have to breathe and found herself unable to speak. Too astonished to make any semblance of sound. Her hands slowly came from around her knees and as she pushed herself up, she watched him rise with her though his gaze didn't follow her completely. It was like he couldn't see her but still knew her to be there.

His eyes turned down towards the sand, where she had left no imprint and his hand rose towards his eyes. He rubbed at the corners of them before letting out a heavy breath. He shook his head as though to clear it and turned away. Lifting his basket up to his chest as he walked, he left behind the awestruck woman in her place.

Hermione could only watch as he made it further away from her, half expecting the man to simply vanish. When he turned towards a set of wooden stairs that climbed the modest cliffside she wanted desperately to follow. However, the world around her was growing darker and though she couldn't feel the unmistakable pull to her chest, she knew she was leaving the astral plane. Her consciousness slipping deeper into the void.

oOOo

Harry groaned as early morning light flooded his face. His head already beginning to pound with his apparent hangover. With a heavy groan he pushed himself up from the couch he found himself on. Blinking dumbly as his living room came into focus. He couldn't remember how or when he got there. His mind was nothing but a mess of blurred images and even foggier thoughts. As he sat up, his head hung down into his hands. Desperately, he tried to recount the night before but all he could clearly remember was Ron coming to collect his things. He focused harder on the events that followed and his eyes closed as he tried to sort through the mess.

"Draco..." Harry grumbled, his throat thick. He had seen Draco...why was seeing him so important?

With a groan, he pushed his aching body up to its feet and started towards the kitchen. He needed potions, he needed to clear his head. He was sure there were still a few hangover reducing draughts in the downstairs medicine cupboard. Though they hadn't needed them in a good while they should have still been good.

Just as he made for the doorway, the floo turned green. Harry winced against its brightness before watching a small sealed letter flutter through. He blinked dumbly at it for a long time before his body finally responded, turning him back towards the fireplace. Leaning down with a small hiss, he plucked the letter from the hearth and turned it in his fingers. An adjustment to his glasses brought the writing into focus and he found only his name on the front.

His fingers flipped it over as he started back towards the kitchen, not missing the Hogwarts seal on the back. His mind sparked but the memory fled far too quickly for him to latch onto. Tossing the now empty envelope onto the table he slipped open the paper with one hand, his other opening the cabinet. He rifled through a few potions before finally finding the one he was looking for. A flick to the cork and he swallowed the potion down without hesitation, the magic therein washing down his body like a warm shower. Head not as heavy, and mind finally organized in some semblance of other, he turned to lean back on the counter reading the missive that had come for him.

Mr. Potter,

Your presence is requested at Hogwarts. This is an unofficial request, your Auror services are not required. Please arrive promptly at 8:00 am. This matter shouldn't take long, however, please inform your department that you will be late. You may use this letter as your excuse. 

Signed,

Minerva McGonagall
Headmistress of Hogwarts

Harry blinked dumbly for a long moment before turning his head to the wall clock. 7:14 a.m. plenty of time to shower, inform his department, and arrive on time. With a deep breath, he rubbed his face scratching at the stubble that had grown overnight. Setting the letter down on the table he made towards the stairs. His legs moaned under the effort but he ignored them. When he got to the top his brows furrowed at the sight of Hermione's open door. In a rush, the disjointed memories of the night before crashed through his mind and he closed the distance in a few rushed steps.

Her name died out on his lips when he rounded her door frame. His eyes wide as he took in the empty space. Her bed was neatly made, her desk partially cleared. When he came in further he could see a few of her discarded clothes that hadn't quite made it into the hamper. Her chair was askew but what really made him pause was the box of potions left out on the corner of her desk. He instantly recognized it as the box she'd come home with nearly a week ago. When he'd scolded her about leaving the house.

His stomach twisted painfully as he recounted the events in his inner eye while he approached. Lifting up a few of the empty bottles in his fingers, he felt like more of an arse than before. She had been taking care of herself that day, he had just been too self-absorbed to see it. His lips curled into a fine line before he noticed the folded bit of parchment in the lid. His heart sunk somewhere near his feet as he started to read through the detailed list. Not just the names of the potions, only some of which he recognized but rather what they were for. Their effects listed just beside their names followed by their doses. There were so many and when he pulled the uniquely folded parchment down lower he saw the signature of Madame Pomfrey attached to a small comment telling her not to lose hope.

His eyes shined as he folded the parchment back in place. He felt like such a fool. She had known from almost the very beginning that she was dying and she hadn't told anyone. His heart ached in ways he couldn't possibly describe. The sense of betrayal and love mixing ambivalently inside his chest. He tried to rationalize that she, much as he, hadn't wanted to burden the other but it still hurt. Gods it hurt. Even the word didn't feel strong enough for what he felt.

A sniffle and a swipe to his eyes from the back of his hand turned him away, his throat closing painfully as a sob threatened to break free. His eyes turned around her room once more as though by will alone he had expected to find her in some hidden corner. A bright smile on her face before she accosted him for going through her things. Silence was all that greeted him as he stood trying to collect himself. His mind grinding like a clock whose gears had been clogged.

oOo

Minerva pursed her lips tightly, her eyes focused on the small vial presently held in her hand. The dark crimson liquid shifted in the lights from up above. Her hand rested over Drugor's report that Harry had given her but even she found his findings incomplete. She only hoped that what she presently possessed would be the end to all this unnecessary suffering.

When the fire in her hearth flared green she steadied her breath, setting down the vial. She came to her feet gracefully, her hands folded tighter than usual in front of her. When Harry stepped out she tried to give him an encouraging look but the shadow in his eyes dimmed her outlook.

"Hello, Professor." Harry's voice was still tight but he'd managed to shower and dress for the day.

"Mr. Potter." Minerva inclined her head before motioning him towards the chair that sat opposite her desk, "I'm glad you were able to make it," she moved back behind her desk settling down, "Are you feeling better?"

"Not really...no..." He looked down at his hands, "Remember what I'd found out before? Well... it's worse than I initially thought..."

Minerva steepled her fingers for a moment before settling them down into her lap deciding to let the young man speak what was weighing down his heart.

"She's dying professor..." Harry rubbed his red eyes from under his glasses, "And I...I don't know what to do...what I can do..." He took a shuddering breath, "I've tried all of my connections and...I don't know how much time she has left...If she can't figure out a way to break the curse...what hope is there that anyone else will be able to?"

Minerva nodded solemnly, her hand leaving her lap to take the vial on her desk into her fingers, "I understand how hard this is for you Harry. I had just learned the severity myself last night..."

Harry looked up at her, his eyes widening slightly when a blurry memory floated through his consciousness, "She's...here... isn't she?"

"Yes, in Madame Pomfrey's care..." Minerva hadn't yet received an update," I brought her here yesterday evening."

"She collapsed again..." Harry's brows furrowed as he tried to sort through his previous drunken haze, "On the street?"

"Yes," Minerva pushed herself gracefully to her feet, "She is being taken care of, though that was not why I called you here." She came around the edge of her desk, her head tilted down as she tried to catch the young man's eyes, "I want you to take this to Drugor."

Harry's head rose but paused at the vial now being offered out to him. His brows furrowed as he reached up to take it. He turned it in the light watching the liquid move, "Is this...blood?"

"Indeed."

"How did you...?" Harry leaned up straighter, his voice filled with confusion and awe.

"Nevermind that." Minerva tried to give him an encouraging look, "Just take it to Drugor."

Harry looked back down at the vial, he had the distinct impression that something was going on behind the scenes. It kind of felt like he was back in school all over again. He glanced up to Dumbledore's portrait but found the frame empty. His eyes narrowed for a moment before looking back down at the glass still turning in his fingers.

"Now." Minerva pushed gently having seen that far away look in his eyes.

"But.. Hermione..." He didn't even realize he'd come to stand, subconsciously following her directions.

"You will be informed, for now, do what is best for her." She turned him by his shoulder towards the floo.

Harry swallowed down the lump in his throat, his hand curling tightly around the vial. When he raised his head again he gave her a determined nod before taking the offered floo powder.