A/N: So I'm kind of just doing this by ear. Not really sure what's going to happen, but that's half the fun, eh? Lol. Disappointing reviews so far, but hopefully this one will attract more attention. I'm going to stop updating if you bums don't give me some feedback, lol. All right, first chapter, sequel! Enjoy! Adios!

-CatJetRat

5 Years Later

Chapter 1

Forgotten

Pansy's POV

"Look, I've already told you everything I know!" I said, rather crossly. "What more do you want from me?"

"Ms. Hermione Granger," Eliza Robison, the District Attorney of New York City, said to me, eyes narrow. "If anyone knows where she is, you do."

"Yes, but I don't!" I snapped. "Besides, what does her testimony matter? She heard the same thing I did!"

"But it looks much better to a jury if we have two witnesses who heard the same thing, rather than one witness who was in a place she never should have been and the person who was with her went missing shortly after, and hasn't been seen since!" The last words ended in a shout.

I pursed my lips and leaned back in my chair. "Are we quite done here? I have a plane to catch."

"You can't go to England in the middle of the trial!" Ms. Robison's eyes bulged. "We're about to put behind bars the worst religious fanatics in the state!"

"And I already gave my testimony," I snarled. "My plane leaves in three hours, and I start grad school in a week. I don't have time for this."

With that, I grabbed my backpack and strode out of the office. My girlfriend Hannah Abbott stood up, looking worried. "I'm guessing it didn't go well?" she remarked tentatively.

"Idiot D.A. needs to be fired; she can't do her fucking job right without interrogating the person who helped her," I muttered darkly under my breath. "Is it my fault that Granger disappeared for five years? Am I the reason she doesn't care that her fake parents are behind bars? Absurd, absolutely absurd."

"She might not know," Hannah suggested. "We have no idea where she is. She could be dead for all we know."

My heart skipped a beat at the word 'dead', but I struggled to ignore it. Hermione had abandoned me years ago. She deserved neither my pity nor my worry. I exited the building and we went down to cab that was waiting for us. My hybrid had already been shipped to London. We got in the taxi and it set off at a slow pace for the airport. Hannah and I were both headed to England, Hannah so she could return to her homeland after two years in the states, me so I could go to Oxford for graduate school.

"It'll be okay," she said tenderly, reaching out to stroke my hair. I leaned into her touch, so warm and soothing. I focused my gaze upon her, taking in her long blonde hair, paler than my own, and her piercingly intelligent hazel eyes. I leaned in and kissed her, relishing the taste of the cinnamon gum she so loved to chew. She returned my kiss with passion, matching my style easily. We had been dating for the better part of a year, and knew each other outside and in (no pun intended). She was the first girl I dated who I felt a true connection with. I didn't count Hermione, since technically; she and I had never dated. Hannah pulled away and stroked my face, a small smile playing around her lips which I returned.

"What's your first class?" she asked me.

"Professor Dumbledore, the Headmaster, told me that I could come and get my schedule from him," I murmured. "He said he wanted to discuss some things with me…." Her fingers had been running across my cheek and were now tracing their way around my lips.

"Nothing bad, I hope?" she said softly, smiling when I took her forefinger into my mouth and began to seductively lick it. I shook my head, her finger between my teeth. She grinned, then leaned over and whispered in my ear, "Our driver's getting quite a show, isn't he?" Her lips barely brushed my ear and I shuddered at the feel of her warm breath rushing across it. With difficulty I glanced at the cab driver, who was looking while trying to appear to not look. I smirked.

Turning my head around, I caught her in an open-mouthed kiss. She moaned lightly into my mouth, and out of the corner of my eye I could see the driver's pants tightening. Now, I wasn't much of an exhibitionist as far as I knew, but this was too much fun. I began to trace little circles on her leg, starting at the knee. When my hand began to push her skirt up, she grabbed it.

"What are you doing?" she hissed. An evil little smile crossed my face.

"Just having a bit of fun," I whispered, and bit her earlobe, then ran my tongue down her neck. Her hold on my hand weakened, and I began again the steady ascent along her leg. When I reached the top of her inner thighs, I began to rub each thigh gently, and I could feel heat radiating from her. Just as I was about to penetrate her and give her sweet release, we arrived.

"Oh look, we're here!" I said cheerfully, and hopped out of the cab. I shut the door, barely catching sight of her pissed off face. I had a funny feeling that we would soon join the mile-high club.

Hermione's POV

"Mi hija, are you sure about this?" my mother, Flor Ramirez, fretted as I rushed about collecting my things.

"Of course I'm sure," I replied, reaching under my bed to grab some socks. "Besides, Gloria's already got a new roommate, and she's thrilled to have the extra furniture."

"You could stay with me until you got a new place," my mother mused, disregarding my previous statement. "And nowhere does it say you have to let her keep all of your furniture."

"Madre, I'm leaving," I said, turning to face her. "But I'll be back to visit, don't you worry." I smiled and gave her a hug and kiss on the cheek. It did nothing to decrease her frown.

"But it's across the Atlántico!" she exclaimed. "And you've never even been there before! It's a foreign country!"

"Oh yes, England is so foreign," I scoffed. "Besides, I already took a year off after college, and I decided that I still want this. I have a full scholarship, and even if I didn't, I've saved plenty of money. I'll be fine."

My mother grumbled disapprovingly underneath her breath. I smiled. There was a time when I wouldn't have dreamed of leaving my mother's side. But five years and a lot of hardship had given me the strength I had needed. Three years ago I went from being a self-destructive cutter to a suicidal, depressed young woman. After an attempt to drown myself in Lady Bird Lake, my mother had gotten me some help, and I was healing, if not completely healed. After all, I don't think anyone can ever be entirely stable.

I stayed with my mother through the summer after being separated from her, and we spent a lot of time together. With my help, she got her green card, and we moved to Austin, Texas, where I attended the University of Texas and acquired a job in a Mexican restaurant as a waitress. Being fluent in Spanish was helpful, especially here. Most people in Austin could speak at least some Spanish. After I graduated from UT with a BA in philosophy (I had decided physics wasn't my true calling after all), I took a year off to study Chinese and train in martial arts, specifically Aikido and Karate. Now I had a full scholarship to go to graduate school at Oxford, and I was quite ready to leave Texas and America behind me. I would miss my mother, yes, but other than her, there was really nothing for me here. I broke up with my last girlfriend a few months ago, and my friends meant a lot to me, but I needed a change of scenery.

I shuffled Flor on out the door after a few moments so that I could continue packing. I had already shipped most of my things to the place I was staying. I would be sharing a house with a girl native to England who desperately needed a room mate. It was convenient, close to campus, and, while not cheap, not terribly expensive, either.

I grabbed my suitcase and backpack and trotted down the stairs to where my mother was waiting next to her car, looking annoyed. I sighed but smiled. I could look forward to a long drive to the airport full of worried admonitions and then a tearful good bye. Honestly, though, I would take this mother over my fake one any day.

Pansy's POV

"We're about to land," Hannah nudged me.

"Mhm," I mumbled, completely ignoring her. I was having a lovely dream about crumpets, and it didn't need to be interrupted by—

BUMP!

My head jerked up and I looked around in annoyance. The plane had landed. Damn. I shifted around in my sleep again. Maybe I could grab a few more moments—

"Come on," Hannah laughed. "Wake up. You can sleep when we get you to the apartment."

I grumbled and turned on my phone, checking the time. 12:40 A.M. Or 0:40, as they might say here. I honestly had no clue how they structured their time. Hannah would be staying in her parent's house, and I had gotten an apartment. For a time, we contemplated living together, but decided that at this point in our relationship, it was a bad idea. Maybe in a couple of years, after I'd graduated. Hannah had no interest in graduate school; she had actually come back here to become a teacher. She had been to teaching school in England and came here to study our methods. She would be teaching at a school that would have several American exchange students, and wanted to make sure she understood some of the American culture.

I gathered up my bags and proceeded after her. I was here to study literature. I'd heard Oxford was the best place for it. I wasn't entirely sure what it was I wanted to do with my life yet, but I was still searching. I had been tempted at one point to say "Fuck all" and become a musician and lyricist, but decided at the last moment that that was a bad idea. Too many uncertainties. So I was here. Here to study literature and find my passion. Because music was just a silly passion, or so some of my teachers and my sister had told me. Not that I ever wanted to do anything my sister said, but still. Maybe sometimes she could make sense.

We loaded off the plane and collected our bags, then picked up my hybrid where it was waiting for us in the airport parking lot. My parents had bought it for me as a college graduation present. It ran wonderfully; a blue Toyota Prius. They swore that if they'd had a hundred grand to throw away they would have bought me an electric car, but no go. I actually think it wasn't so much a graduation present as it was a present for testifying against the religious fanatics who had been Hermione's parents.

Hannah guided me down the dark London streets to my one-bedroom apartment. We lugged my suitcases up the stairs and plopped them down in my room. I was impressed. It was much larger than the pictures had led me to believe, and Hannah's parents had done a wonderful job of assembling the furniture I gave them. They had even made my bed!

I gave a small gasp as I felt Hannah's warm hands encircling my waist. "What say we christen your new apartment?" she murmured to me.

I grinned, and turned around without breaking her grip. "Can't think of a better idea," I said, and leaned in to kiss her.

Hermione's POV

I stared around the strange London airport uncertainly until I spotted someone with a sign that said 'Granger'. Relieved, I rushed over to the person holding the sign, a rather large—not fat just really tall—dark-haired woman. She was scanning the crowd and squinting. Then she spotted me.

"Hermione!" she exclaimed, and crushed me in a hug, ignoring my outstretched hand. "Such a delight to finally meet you. Terribly sorry I wasn't able to send you a picture of me, you know, my computer; it's just so slow!"

I laughed. "It's perfectly understandable. Shall we, then?"

"Of course, of course," she insisted, and buried my hand in hers, leading me out of the airport. "My husband, Rubeus, is waiting with the car; he can't wait to meet you. I can't tell you how much of a help you are, moving in and everything. We thought we just might have to move out! But I'm glad you're here."

"Not to worry, Mrs. Hagrid," I assured her.

"Please, please, call me Olympe. After all, we're roomies, now!" she laughed.

I laughed as well, a little uncertain of myself. She led me over to a car, large for English standards, being driven by a man who was proportionally equally as large as she was. Again, not necessarily fat. Just large.

"Nice to meet you, little lady," he rumbled at me, stretching out a hand. "Name's Rubeus Hagrid. You must be Hermione Granger. Friend of Harry Potter's, is that right?"

"Why yes," I smiled.

"He's a good lad; I knew his parents back in the day," Rubeus sighed, and pulled out of the parking lot, onto the dark road. "Sad night. Such a tragedy. You know, I was the first man on the scene, back when I worked for the NYPD. Pulled that sick bastard Riddle out and cuffed him right before he could finish off little Harry. Horrible. Did you know that Peter Pettigrew sold them to Riddle for a couple mil? Nearly fled the country by the time we caught him. He's lucky we did too. I reckon Sirius Black, Harry's godfather, you know, would have finished him off if we hadn't. As it was, he got fifteen years as an accomplice. Too few, in my opinion. Smart man, though, he fled the country shortly after his release and hasn't been heard from since. But Harry and I still keep in touch," Rubeus added brightly. "Send him a couple dozen rock cakes every Christmas a birthday."

"That's…lovely," I said, a bit take aback, but Rubeus seemed pleased at the response.

"By the way, call me Hagrid, everyone does. Don't much care for my first name," he grunted, and just then, they pulled into the driveway of a quaint British cottage.

"It isn't much," Olympe apologized, pushing the door open. I had to disagree. Yes, the living room was a bit cluttered, but it was much larger inside than it looked from the outside. The kitchen was quite large, and had every cookbook imaginable, which was lovely, since I loved to cook and bake, and best of all, I mused, was my room. It was enormous, and the bed was large and comfortable. It was perfect.

Even better, I thought, as a dark calico kitten emerged from underneath the bed and jumped lightly into my lap.

"That's Kitty Num-Nums," Olympe said.

"Excuse me?" I said with raised eyebrows.

"Don't ask me; that's just what Hagrid calls her," Olympe laughed. "I'll tell you what: you name her whatever you like, just don't tell Hagrid. Goodnight, darling," she said, and left the room, shutting the door behind her.

I grinned and picked the kitten up. "What shall I call you?" I asked, studying the kitten. With a jolt, I realized that I was reminded of Pansy's old calico cat, Athena. "You look like an Athena," I whispered. "Do you like that name?" The kitten purred, leaning into my hand. I smiled. Athena it was then.

I set the kitten down and went about getting prepared for bed. As I snuggled into the covers, and Athena settled down next to me to sleep, another smile played across my face. Tomorrow, my new life would begin. And my old life would stay in America, where it belonged. Forgotten.

A/N: Hmm, let's see now, how many hits have I gotten so far for the last chapter of "Love is Cruel"? Oh, look at that! 131! Quite impressive. Now, let's look at the reviews, hmm…wait…2? I've gotten two reviews? Two reviews, when over one hundred and thirty people read the last chapter? What is this nonsense? Now, now, I know that 129 of you are just about to review any moment now. As it is, I won't update this until I get ten reviews. Hear that? 10 REVIEWS, people!! If not, no more "Love Not Forgotten'. That's a promise. Review. Meshi. Adios!

-CatJetRat