A/N: To reiterate the summary, this is the third and final story in my "Forget Me Not" series. Six months after the events at the Ministry, all is not well. Draco and Hermione's friendship has suffered some major setbacks as their memories return fully to them; Ron's recovery is slow, frustrating him to no end; Harry has pushed Ginny away once again; and a mysterious faction is working to end Arthur's time as Minister of Magic.

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter in any way, shape, or form.

Chapter 1

Normally, this walk would be spent excitedly dissecting what they had learned, what they had seen, and what they had achieved. It was their time to escape the problems plaguing the now rocky friendship, and revel in their discoveries, quietly remembering what it was like to be happy together. But on this late November afternoon, Draco and Hermione's course remained silent fraught with tension, guilt, anger, and even fear.

It had been a full five months since they'd started their magical re-education, beginning with the most rudimentary of knowledge and proceeding to where they found themselves now.

This particular session with Harry had been emotionally traumatic. Today was their first attempt at dueling, and things had gone from bad to worse. It had happened because she was still angry over their horrible row from that morning.

The whole fight came flooding back to Hermione, making her cringe at how dreadful she'd been.

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"You are not doing it right. Why can't you actually listen to what I'm saying, and do it the way I asked you to?" Her tone was biting and cruel.

"I am doing it the way you asked me to. You've only just screamed it at me eight times. How else should I sweep a bloody floor? Please tell me what I'm doing wrong." Draco snarled facetiously.

"You're flicking it everywhere. What's the point of doing the job if you're only going to cause more of a mess in the process? Do you purposely ignore my instructions?"

"Bloody hell Hermione, do you even hear yourself? Listen to your tone. Do you realize how incompetent you're making me feel? I can't even sweep a sodding floor without you making me feel like shit about it."

"Well, if you'd only listen to me in the first place…"

"I was listening. When I try to be careful and not flick it everywhere as you so aptly put it, you tell me I'm taking too long. When I try to speed up a bit, you shriek that I'm making more of a mess. So, as you can see I am listening."

Rolling her eyes, she mumbled, "Of course you are." Her disbelieving tone belying her words.

"I AM!!!" He screamed. "Listen, if I'm so bloody pathetic then you do it!" He shoved the broom at her.

"Fine, but If you just do it like this…" She started to demonstrate haughtily. "Don't flick the broom. Just quick even brushes."

"You didn't say that before!!!" He wailed in frustration.

"Well, that's what I meant." She stood straighter awkwardly clutching the broom.

"Oh, what you meant. And I'm supposed to read your bloody mind, am I? I'm supposed to be a fucking psychic. Just like I'm supposed to know that you still hate me for …"

At that, he cut himself off. They stared at each other blankly for an excruciating stretch of silence.

Finally having had enough, Draco stormed from the room leaving Hermione stunned in his wake.

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After much cajoling all those months ago, she had been adamant that they should stay together after their release from St. Mungo's, and he had reluctantly agreed. But now… now she wasn't so sure. They were constantly niggling at each other with little biting asinine comments. Her more than him, but he wasn't completely innocent either.

A sniff from beside her drew Hermione out of her thoughts. She glanced briefly to her right to find Draco's eyes set firmly forward watery from what she hoped was the chill in the air, but guilt was wracking her heart. She knew without a doubt that she had placed those tears in his eyes.

It was a terrifying prospect, but she couldn't deny her actions in class today could very well put an end to their already precarious friendship. It was heartbreaking to know she would be the cause of losing her only family.

Why had she attacked him? Why had she cursed him with a hex they hadn't yet learned the counter for? Yes, she was still angry with him for the row, or rather for what he had implied by his last comment, but it didn't warrant her hitting him with Petrificus Totalus.

Thankfully, Harry had rushed between them and stood in front of Draco protectively before performing the counter. Once freed, Draco had understandably scrambled away from her in fear and distrust, and glared at her with such menace it made her shudder.

But it was the look of utter shock and disappointment on Harry's face that did her in. He had ended the lesson immediately, and with a curt, quiet manner dismissed them.

It had been more than just a fight that morning. It wasn't about the bloody sweeping. There was so much more to it. She still blamed him for her parents' death and was holding it over him like an executioner with the ax ready to swing. It was darkly imbued into every one of their arguments.

Suddenly, Hermione felt a hand on her forearm stopping her progress, and she turned to find Draco facing her looking everywhere but into her eyes.

He cleared his throat loudly, and cast his eyes about searching for something… maybe courage… maybe resolve. This was it. He was ending their friendship. Hermione could feel the bile rising in her throat and the tears stinging her eyes. What else did she expect? He was completely within his rights. She was absolutely horrible to him on a regular basis, and now she had even assaulted him. She steeled herself for what she knew was about to come.

He softly cleared his throat again and focused his gaze on her forehead.

'He can't even meet my eyes.' Hermione silently lamented.

"Before we go in there…" He started before taking another shaky breath. "I just wanted to say… let's not tell them what happened, Ron and Ginny." He looked down and around before dropping his hand from her arm. "We can talk about it later… back at the flat… or with Parvati if you prefer. They'll probably hear it from Harry anyway. Let's just have a pleasant lunch, yeah?"

Hermione looked around confused. Were they already at 'The Three Broomsticks'? She felt slightly lost and a little disoriented. They were standing right in front of the place. How did they arrive so quickly? Was she that distracted by her thoughts? What else had she missed during their walk?

"Yeah… yeah, that sounds like a… yeah." She mumbled.

He began to move to the door, but wringing her hands, she called to him. "Draco, I'm… I'm really sorry for today… for everything." She swallowed hard to keep the tremour from reaching her voice.

"I know." He sighed, the faint smile on his lips not quite reaching his eyes. "You always are," he muttered as he turned back to open the door and move on through.

Hermione squeezed her eyes shut and willed the tears not to fall. Why couldn't she just let this go? She was losing him.

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Draco stalked through the door engulfed in an air of dejection. Upon seeing the looks of concern marring both Ron and Ginny's faces, he quickly realized he'd done a right shoddy job of concealing his upset. He glanced back at Hermione to find a look of remorse and utter despair plaguing her features. They were quite the pair. Couldn't hide a thing if they tried.

As Hermione sullenly slid in next to Ron, he quickly wrapped his arm around her shoulder pulling her easily to him. Her head found its way into the crook of his neck, and she didn't fight being enveloped in his protective embrace.

Ron looked up from Hermione's huddled form into Draco's eyes, and mouthed. "Are you two all right?"

Leave it to Ron not to blame either of them for whatever had gone wrong. It showed just how aware he was of their decaying situation.

Draco couldn't handle it. He gave an elusive wag of his head, which was neither a shake nor a nod, and then excused himself to the loo. He needed a moment to collect himself. Perhaps Hermione would explain what had happened saving him the torture of having to see their initial reactions and pitying expressions. The only thing he knew was that he didn't want to be there.

As he fled to the back of the bar, he glanced over his shoulder only to find Hermione in tears frantically babbling while Ginny stared at her in wide-eyed mortification. Ron had his elbow leaned on the table with his forehead pressed into his hand, and his eyes firmly closed.

That was enough to have Draco quickening his pace to the refuge of the washroom.

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As the warm water rushed over his hands, Draco stared absently down at them. He felt so muddled he couldn't even begin to sort through the various thoughts and feelings weaving their way around his being. There were three women dancing through his mind causing him no end of heartache and elation.

First… always first, came Hermione. He loved her and hated her. She was his family… his sister… his mother… his best friend. She was an intrinsic part of him, but her unconscious cruelties were tearing at him like a knife. Today had been the breaking point though. She had physically attacked him. He could shrivel up and die for the pain that caused him. She couldn't help herself and he couldn't blame her, but her chilling refusal to forgive him was slowly breaking him down. He'd made the gut wrenching realization that barring a miracle he was going to have to distance himself from her.

Then came Ginny. She, along with Ron, Harry, and the Weasleys, were the only brightness in his otherwise bleak existence. It amazed him that she knew who and what he was and what he used to be, and still tried to be a genuine friend to him. They'd spent a lot of time together over the last several months working closely on counter curses for the Ministry, and he'd grown very fond of her. She was warm and gregarious and playful and sincere…. and a right terror when she was angry. He chuckled lightly to himself.

Recently, they'd begun to see each other on a more than 'just friends' basis. They weren't hiding it exactly, but they hadn't made any announcements either. He wasn't in love with her by any means and he knew she wasn't in love with him. It just came so natural spending time together. She understood what his heart had been through. They'd both been in love and still loved someone who chose not to love them back.

That led his thoughts finally to "her". He couldn't even bring himself to think her name. She quietly invaded his mind in moments of distraction. He'd be occupied with something in one moment, and then find himself drowning in daydreams of the lift of her brow, or her silken honey-coloured hair, or even the delicate curve of her chin in the next. His head would swim and his body would flush, making him feel altogether unwell. 'Her smile.' He trembled slightly. The memory of that smile and how those lips felt against his always made his heart skip. It angered him to no end that he was no less in love with her now than he had been the day she'd left six months ago.

"Bloody sodding Egypt." He muttered under his breath.

"You know, speaking to oneself is the first sign of madness."

Draco jumped at the interruption. Looking up quickly into the mirror, he found the reflection of a man meeting his gaze levelly.

The man was so familiar to him. He had short spiky black hair and a huge scar running clear down his face on the diagonal. But it was his eyes that Draco recognized. Ice blue eyes. He knew them like he knew his own.

Beyond that, Draco was sure he had seen this man before in passing. Every time he had turned to get a better look though, the man was gone like he had never been there in the first place. Like it was all in his head.

Draco turned quickly in an attempt to catch the man in a confirmation of his existence.

"Jumpy, aren't we?" The man drawled.

He then sauntered up next to Draco, all the while examining himself in the mirror.

For some ungodly reason, Draco was absolutely paralyzed by the man's presence. He could only stare at him slack jawed, mesmerized by the spectre before him.

The man finally turned once again and met Draco's gaze with an unflinching stare.

"Hello Draco."

"Who are you?" Draco whispered.

The man quirked a slight smirk at him before turning back to the sink to wash his hands.

"Now, Draco. Is that anyway to greet your father?"