The war is over and Voldemort is finally defeated – but Hermione can not remember anything of this. In fact, she can not remember anything of the first seventeen years of her life and she can not even remember her own name. The only thing she does remember, however, is waking up at a hospital somewhere in Scotland.

Ok, I know something similar has been done before, but well… Wanted to try and write my own version. So, hope you like, and read and review.

As the dust slowly faded away, a person came in to view: a red-haired and freckled young man, at about eighteen years old. He looked at what surrounded him and let out a heavy sigh. The war was finally over and he was happy for it, he really was; but he could not help but think of the losses that had been made. There were bodies lying on the ground, motionless, and he could see their faces, their familiar faces, pale as ice. Ron shook his head sadly: it was a terrible sight. But at least they had fought bravely, and for something they believed in. They would always be remembered for that.

"Ron!"

Ron turned around and saw Harry running towards him. Like Ron, he looked awful: messy, dirty and his clothes were covered with bloodstains. There was no doubt that both of them had been in a battle.

"You did it, Harry!" Ron laughed heartily. "You did it. We won!"

"Ron." Harry could not bear to look him into his eyes. "She is gone. Hermione is gone. We can't find her anywhere. Ron, I think he got her. Before I… Before I killed him..."

"What?" Ron shook his head. "No, he can't have… She can't be…"

Harry did not reply, but closed his eyes as Ron sank to the ground. Neither of them could really believe it. For seven years she had been there, in thick and thin, their best friend… And now she was gone.

----------------- 3 years later ----------------------

Summer had just arrived in Scotland, and twenty-one year old Hermione was enjoying the warm weather with a book and a soda outside a cafe in the small-town. Three years, exactly on the day, had passed since she had woken up at a hospital with no memories of her or her past life. She had been accepted in to the family of the nurse that had nurtured her, where she was loved and taken care of as if being their own. Since they did not know her name, they had called her Jenny Doe, a name she had quickly learned to live with. The family had a daughter from before, a girl a year younger than Hermione. Mary was her name, and she had turned out to be a great friend.

"Jenny!"

Hermione turned around. "Hi, Mary," she said. "How did your final exam go?"

Mary sat down next to Hermione, grinning. "I think it went pretty good. But I don't really want to think about it now. Summer has official begun now, and I just want to enjoy it." She took a sip of Hermione's soda. "What have you been doing today then?"

"Not much," Hermione answered. "I was at the library earlier, for a couple of hours. I tried to find more about that place… that Hogwarts. Of course, I didn't find anything this time either. I'm beginning to wonder if my mind is just playing tricks on me."

It had just been a month or two since this word had popped in to her head: Hogwarts. Nothing more and nothing less, but simply Hogwarts. It had been in a dream, and first she had not thought much of it. But then the word had haunted her dreams along with something else – something she could hardly make out when she woke up.

"Why can't I remember anything?" Hermione groaned. "I know the doctors said that it might take some time before my memory returned, but it's been three years! And the most important question, why hasn't anyone come and looked for me? Does this mean I wasn't loved or something?"

Mary swallowed, wanting so much to comfort her friend. "No, don't think that. Maybe they are just looking in the wrong places?" she suggested. "Jenny, don't give up yet. You will remember – sooner or later. I'm sure of it."

Hermione did not reply; something had caught her eyes. A man; a red-haired man, seemingly around her age, was buying a newspaper from the news-stand across the road. She could barely see his face, but still she got the feeling that there was something about him – something she could not place right there and then.

"Jenny?" Mary asked. "What's the matter?"

Hermione shrugged. "I don't know exactly." She rolled her eyes as she watched the man disappear in the crowd of people that was wandering down the street. "Never mind. Let's go home. I promised your parents we'd be back before they leave."

Mary's parents were going away for the holiday, on a boat trip in the Caribbean, leaving Hermione and Mary home alone for two weeks. The girls did not mind though; although a boat trip in the Caribbean Sea sounded like a trip to heaven, they knew they would enjoy having the house on their own for such a long period.

"Now, remember that we expect the house to be in the same state as we left it," Mr. Bueller said as he and his wife got into the taxi. "And no parties." He pointed at them warningly, before his lips broke in to a smile. "But most importantly, have fun!"

Hermione laughed. "You have fun, too!"

"And buy us something pretty," Mary added with a grin.

They kept waving to the taxi until it rounded the corner and was out of sight; then they walked back into the house. Mary flung herself down on the sofa, beaming. "So, what are we going to do now as we're official home alone?" she asked

"I have no idea," Hermione answered. "Watch a movie?"

Mary raised her eyebrows. "Did you not hear what I said? We're official home alone! And you want to watch a movie? A movie!"

Hermione giggled. "Why, did you have anything specific in mind?" she asked. "Because I'm not helping you to plan a party of some sort, if that's what you want. Especially not after how the last one went."

"Fine!" Mary said." A movie it is then." She got up on her feet and went to find a movie they could watch. "Jeez, you're such a bore sometimes," she added jokingly. "Do you know that? Never doing anything you shouldn't."

Live a little, will you?

Hermione's head jerked up. It had been a male voice who had spoken, and she could still play the sentence over and over again in her mind. She could not recognise who it belonged too though, and she could not remember that Mr. Bueller or anyone of her male friends had ever said it. Yet again her thoughts wandered to the red-haired man she had seen earlier, and she could not help but feel slightly stupid. Her mind had played tricks on her before, and the last she needed now was another disappointment.

"So, which one do you want to watch: the thriller or the love story?"

"What? Oh. The thriller," Hermione answered. "To tell the truth, it's the same for me. You decide."

"The thriller it is then," Mary replied.

The next day, Hermione went back the cafe. Although she knew it was like trying to find a needle in a haystack, she still hoped there was a small chance she might catch a glimpse of the red-haired man. She was not disappointed though: yet again she saw him, and just like the previous day he walked over to the news-stand and bought a newspaper. This time she was able to catch a better glimpse of him: he was tall, and rather muscular, and his face was filled with freckles. He was obviously in a hurry as he hastened down the street with the newspaper under his arm.

"So, that's why you were so eager to hang outside the cafe today?"

Hermione almost jumped of her seat as Mary appeared from behind her. "Mary, you startled me. What are you doing here?"

"Checking you out," Mary smiled. "But don't change the subject. Who's the guy?"

"What makes you think there's a guy?"

"Because you were staring at one," Mary smiled smugly.

Hermione blushed. "It's nothing like that. I saw him yesterday, and I don't know... There was just something about him. Something familiar," she hastily added. "Oh Mary, I'm beginning to think I'm going mad."

Mary's eyes widened. "Ooh, you should go and talk to him."

"Now you've gone mad!" Hermione laughed. "You want me to just waltz over to him, a complete stranger, and say exactly what?"

Mary shrugged. "You're right. It's a stupid idea," she said, rolling her eyes. "Beside, you've lost your chance anyway. He is gone now."

Hermione failed to hide her disappointment, and Mary could not help but give a triumphal smile. "Well, you can always come back here tomorrow," she said. "I can join you, and you can help me to plan the party!"

Hermione frowned. "What party? You're father said no parties."

"Oh, come on, Jenny!" Mary pleaded. "It won't be a big one. I'll just invite some of my closest friends from school. It will be fun!"

Hermione gave her a disbelieving look, which soon softened. "As long as you make sure it doesn't turn out to be like one of those disastrous parties where expensive things breaks and people jumps in and out from the windows…"

"You have seen too many teenage movies!" Mary laughed. "Don't worry, it'll be fun. And maybe you can ask that guy you were watching?" she added with a wink.

"Live a little, will you?" Hermione looked about; she was inside a white room. She could not see anyone or anything. Soon she noticed there was no way out: there was no door and no windows, and she kept hearing the same sentence over and over again. "Live a little, will you? Live a little, will you?" She wanted to scream, but no sound came out. Desperately, she searched for a possibility to get out, to escape, but she was without luck

Suddenly she found herself in a new room; it was a great hall. There was something old about it, something ancient, and she immediately got a feeling that she was inside an old castle. As she observed the room, she soon noticed a familiar sight. She knew right away that she had dreamt about this place before. The room had no ceiling – or so it looked like. Instead she could see the sky: it was night, and there were about a hundred stars shining. Grey clouds drifted along, and she noted that it was raining, but the weird thing was that she could not rain falling down on her.

"Lost, Granger?" a cold voice sneered. The voice seemed to come from somewhere above her, but when she looked about, there was no one there. "You filthy mudblood!" She heard someone growled back in reply, and then another voice appeared: "You bloody idiot! Eat slugs!" There was a loud bang, followed by laughter that was filled with contempt.

At last Hermione was able to move. She had had enough; she wanted to get away from this place. "Wake up," she muttered to herself. "Wake up." Her whisper was replaced by despair screams. " Wake up! Wake up!"

Hermione woke up with a start. It took a few seconds before she realised where she was. Mary was also in her room, and stood next to her bed with a concerned look on her face.

"Jenny, are you all right?" she asked. "I could hear your screams all the way to my room."

Hermione sat up, breathing heavily. "It was only a nightmare," she whispered, mostly to herself.

Mary sat down on the bed. "Tell me, what was it about?"

"I think… No, I know I was back at that Hogwarts place," she began. "Only this time I could her voices. It was awful. There was anger and hate. And…" She broke off. "I don't really want to talk about it now. I just want to take a shower and then I want to eat. And think of something else," she added with a weak smile.

Mary watched her friend as she got up from the bed and walked out of the room. "Don't forget we're planning a party today!" It was mostly an attempt to cheer Hermione up, and apparently it worked. Mary smiled warmly as she heard laughter appearing from the other room.

The sun shone the next day, and it was a perfect summer day to spend outside the cafe. Mary kept rambling on about whom she wanted to invite for the party and what sort of food they should buy and so on. Hermione was only half-listening, as her mind could not focus on anything else than the dream. Who did the voices belong to? Why did they sound so angry? And who was Granger? She wondered mostly about the last question; beside Hogwarts, it was the first time a name had been mentioned in her dreams. They had to mean something; she could not believe anything else.

"And I think we should bring lots of alcohol."

Hermione snapped out of her thoughts. "What?"

Mary smirked. "So you were listening?"

"I'm sorry," Hermione said with a sigh. "I'm with you now. Keep going."

Mary rolled her eyes. "Never mind. I'll think I'll go and make some calls and invite some people. I thought we could have it tonight; the earlier we have this party, the more time we have to clean the house."

"Clean the house?" Hermione exclaimed. "Why would we have to clean the house? What are you talking about?"

"Relax, Jenny. Jeez," Mary laughed, but abruptly stopped. Her eyes widened. "Red-haired guy nine o'clock. That would be three o'clock for you. Go!" And with that she ran off, leaving Hermione alone quite flabbergasted.

But indeed there he was, right across the street, heading for the news-stand. Hermione froze; she could not possible go over there and talk to him. Or could she? Live a little, will you? she could hear a voice say, and before she knew it she was on her way. She crossed the street and… stopped dead. She had not thought this through. What was she supposed to say? Just at that moment it was as if fate had read her mind: as the red-haired walked from the little kiosk, he managed to lose a something. Hermione narrowed her eyes to see it better: it was a pack of gum! Hermione hurried to pick it up and then she ran after him.

"Excuse me, you dropped this," she said.

The red-haired turned around, and as his eyes met hers, his mouth dropped. For a few seconds he stared at her, and it almost seemed like he was unable to speak. "Hermione?" he finally said.

Hermione went numb, and her feet felt like they could collapse any minute. She did not know why, but slowly she took a step backward. The red-haired quickly reacted to this.

"I'm sorry," he said. "I didn't mean to scare you. You just… You just look so much like someone I used to know. I'm…" He let his hand through his hair nervously. "Thanks for… You know," he added as he gently took the pack of gum Hermione was still holding up in front of him.

Hermione blinked a few times, before she finally was able to respond. "It's all right," she said with a smile. "I'm Jenny. Jenny Doe."

"I'm Ron," he said. "Ron Weasley."

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