Disclaimer: I don't own any of this except the general plot. If I did, I would seriously hope that I was working on the seventh Harry Potter book. I also don't own Whatsername by the wonderful Green Day.

It was nearly midnight, but yet Ron Weasley was still wide awake. He was trying to remember the name of one of his Gryffindor classmates who he had thought he had seen in Diagon Alley earlier that day. He had recognized her face almost at once, but when he had walked up to talk to her, she had vanished, almost like she had never been there. Remembering her name had proved more difficult than he had originally thought, and he had resolved himself to stay up until he knew her name again. He didn’t have many pictures of his friends at Hogwarts, because he didn’t deem many of them worthy of remembering.

Thought I ran into you down on the street
Then it turned out to only be a dream
I made a point to burn all of the photographs
She went away and then I took a different path

Ron slowly got up from his sitting position on his cot and limped over to his desk, cursing the prickling sensation as he pondered. He grabbed a small, shabby scrapbook and sluggishly managed to get back to his bed. He opened the small book and stared at the slightly yellowing pages. There was a picture of Harry and himself on their first week of school, waving merrily into the camera. There was a picture of him trying to teach Hermione how to play wizard’s chess in their fifth year, each of them sneaking glances at one another when they weren’t looking. With each page turn, there was another memory. There was a picture of him at the Yule Ball, glowering at a beaming Hermione and Krum. There was a picture of Harry and Ginny in his sixth year, grinning and snogging (he turned this page faster than the others). Just as he was about to give up to finding this girl in the book, Ron found a picture of the girl hugging him? “Now I really want to know who she is,” he quietly muttered.

I remember the face but I can't recall the name
Now I wonder how whatsername has been

Slowly, Ron began to remember more of his of his school life. His teachers, his classes, his problems all came back to him in a great deluge. He specifically remembered his sixth and last year (he had gone with Harry and Hermione on a hunt for Voldemort’s Horcruxes during their seventh). There was a lot of yelling that year, he vaguely remembered, from both Hermione and his sister. He also remembered a book that helped Harry excel in Potions, to the delight of their new Potions Master, the death of their beloved headmaster, and the strange, yelping call of Won-Won. What was a Won-Won, and who was calling it?

Seems that she disappeared without a trace
Did she ever marry old what's his face?

He pondered and pondered to try to a meaning to Won-Won. “What else happened in my sixth year?” he wondered aloud. Then it hit him like a charging Hippogriff to his stomach; he had his first girlfriend that year (or as Harry like to call her, his snogging partner, since they did nothing else) and she had called him Won-Won. He hazily recalled how she looked with long blond hair, clear, ice blue eyes, and amazing figure. He received another shock as he realized that she was the girl he saw in Diagon Alley.

I made a point to burn all of the photographs
She went away and then I took a different path

But what was her name? Not knowing pushed Ron closer and closer to the brink of vexation, of which he was already tottering dangerously close to. He remembered their relationship, he and the girl in Diagon Alley, as hurried and shallow, consisting of only quick snogs in broom cupboards or empty classrooms. He remembered acting like he was happy, but inside feeling miserable and jealous that the girl he really loved had snogged a famous Quidditch played two years previous. He remembered their breakup, when she saw himself and Hermione walking from the dormitories seemingly alone (Harry had been concealed under his Invisibility Cloak). She was angry, her normally pretty face contorted with rage, and her perfect blond hair falling out of the tidy bun she had put it in that morning. She had screamed at him, calling him horrible names, and at long last, she had shouted, “We are through, Ronald Weasley!” He had watched her run up to the girl’s dormitories, her eyes full of tears when she had glanced back at him. All the while, Ron relished his new found freedom.

I remember the face but I can't recall the name
Now I wonder how whatsername has been

Ron remembered so much about the girl, but her name still eluded him. He pushed on through his memories to try to relive rest of his sixth year. His ex-girlfriend ignored him for the rest of the year. Instead, she hung out with his sandy haired, Irish dorm mate, as if to get back at him. He didn’t care. In fact, he was glad she had moved on so quickly, even if it was just to get back at him, leaving him no time to feel guilty.

Remember, whatever It seems like forever ago

Ron wondered about the girl whose name was lost to him. He wondered where she was. He wondered if she was happy or not. He wondered if she had married the sandy haired boy that she had seemed so keen to be friends with in their sixth year. Most of all, Ron still wondered what her name was.

Remember, whatever It seems like forever ago

Ron had stayed up the entire night trying to put a name to his mystery girl. The first early, pink rays of dawn peaked in through his curtains, creeping up on his cot where he lay reminiscing. He went over to his desk to get parchment, ink, and a quill for a letter to his girlfriend. Ron gathered his supplies, went back to sit on his bed and wrote.

The regrets are useless
In my mind She's in my head
I must confess The regrets are useless
In my mind She's in my head From so long ago

Dear Mione,

How’s the weather there in Scotland? It’s horrible here. Harry and my Auror instructor both seem intent on killing me. Saving the wizarding world is apparently no reason to slack off here. I’m beginning to resent my decision to become an Auror in the first place.

Anyway, I wrote because there is a name I want to see if you remember. Do you remember that girl with the blond hair that I went out for a while in sixth year? I swear that I saw her in Diagon Alley yesterday and have been wracking my brain to remember her name. Believe me, Hermione, my brain is wracked out.

Hope you’re well.
Love,
Ron

Ron gave his letter to Pig, who had slightly mellowed out over the years. He told the owl to deliver the letter to Hermione, and the owl blinked as if he understood. He carried Pig to the window and watched the tiny owl fly away into the night, hoping that Hermione would finally solve the enigma of the girl’s name.

And in the darkest night
If my memory serves me right
I'll never turn back time
Forgetting you, but not the time.


AN: Thank you to my wonderful beta, Tomfeltonisdeadsexy, at the harrypotterfanfiction forums.