Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or Smallville. If I did, HHr and Chlark wouldn't be fanon.

A/N: This is the sequel to Game Over but it can also be seen as some sort of interlude since it's not the main story yet. This will be a short multi-chaptered fic, most likely no more than five. Oh and I need a beta if anyone is interested.

Setting: It's takes place approximately 11 years after Game Over, I can't be too sure on the timeline. This is DH compliant, minus the epilogue. It is the summer before Hermione's 21st birthday Oliver's 20th and Oliver has recently returned to Star City (which I read is in CA, correct me if I'm wrong) after being stranded on the island for two years.

Prologue

Ring.

Oliver jolted awake, unconsciously reaching for a knife that wasn't there to defend himself against the attacker.

Ring. Ring.

It was only the phone.

He groaned and rubbed his palms against his face tiredly. It appeared that those two years on the island had been enough to make him unaccustomed to the sounds of civilization.

Ring. Ring.

He glared at the phone sitting on the nightstand. Stupid reporters just didn't know when to give up.

Ring.

He reached over to disconnect it.

"Is this thing on? Is it recording?"

He stopped. There was a giggle in the background he recognized too well and he swallowed hard.

"…hey friends and family, this is Oliver but I'm not here right now so leave a message."

Beep.

Oliver remained silent and stared intently at the answering machine. Another giggle reached his ears but this one was different from the last. Yet, somehow still familiar.

"Oh!" a female voice exclaimed, as if just realizing the machine was on.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to laugh…"

Did the voice sound British?

"…I just wasn't expecting that…"

It was.

"…I mean I figured that after all these years you would have changed it…."

There was a pause.

"…It's me Oliver. Hermione, Hermione Granger. You probably don't remember me but…anyway I was just calling to see if you were alright. I mean I saw the article…I suppose you really don't want to talk about that so I'll stop there…I'm really glad you're safe. Bye."

Oliver didn't move. He didn't even breathe. His mother's laughter was ringing his ears and memories he had long stored away, had been triggered by that one girl's voice.

xxXxx

The phone rang but Hermione didn't answer it.

Idiot.

Then why had she been sitting there in the hall for an hour? Hadn't she been hoping that he would call back even if she hadn't told him to?

She listened to her voice, as it resonated through the empty house.

"Hello, you've reached the Granger's residence. Sorry but we're not here at the moment. Please leave a message with your name and number, and we'll get back to you as soon as possible."

Beep.

Hermione held her breath.

"Hey…um…Hermione Granger, right?"

The voice was hesitant and a bit off.

"This is Oliver Queen…it's five in the morning, in case you forgot that there's a time difference between California and Europe."

There was a long pause and Hermione believed that he had decided to hang up when she heard him sigh.

"Listen, I want to thank you for your concern. I can't really say if I'm alright but I'm going to be. I don't need you to call me again. Bye."

He hanged up that time.

For several moments, Hermione stayed still and she hadn't even realized that she had began to cry until she felt a tear splash on her hand.

She wasn't crying because of his hurtful words. He had already shoved her completely out of his life over ten years ago, and if truth be told, she had nearly forgotten him trying to live through hers.

If she hadn't decided to walk to work earlier this morning, the wind would not have blown that muggle newspaper into her face with the headline "CEO Back from the Dead." Then, she probably wouldn't have given a single thought to Oliver Queen.

Drawing her legs towards her, she buried her face into her knees. She tried not to think about the possibility that he could have been gone forever and she wouldn't have known it.

At least he was alive and for that she was glad.

"Stupid prat," she muttered into her legs as her tears continued to fall.