Disclaimer: All belongs to J.K. Rowling. No copyright infringement intended.

Author's note: Please R/R. I won't continue if you all don't like it. I hope you do!

Remember Me Now

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Chapter 1

Hermione stumbled into the classroom. "Hello children, sorry I'm late. I…well…let's get started, shall we? Books open. O'Neil, will you please start reading aloud on page 103. Thank you."

Slipping into the wooden chair behind her desk, Hermione's shoes slipped off as her head was lowered into her hands. Pretending to look at the book in front of her, her mind began to swirl. "Years cast off into that abyss…why now…why?"

"Miss. Granger, Miss…umm…Mame."

"What…oh, sorry, yes dear?"

"I'm done with that section, would you like me to continue?"

"No, no, that will do. Thank you, O'Neil. Umm…everyone please copy down the last three examples from the book and then write proofs for each of them. This will be due at the end of class." Moans filled the classroom.

Hermione smiled, "I know some of you would consider this "busy work," however, you will find that this method of studying is the best way to prepare yourselves for the test that awaits you next Monday." The moans that followed this spiel were louder and longer than before.

Eyes lowering once more, she listened carefully for the swishing of quills gliding the parchment, which quickly followed.

She loved her students, even the non-studious ones. For each of them had their good qualities and their own brilliance hidden within; Hermione felt her job was to find those hidden talents and expose them.

Hermione searched her desk for a good book to read while her students worked. In the process she stumbled across a tattered green colored cover and slowly found herself grasping the spin. The author's name, Kennilworthy Whisp, was written in small yellow letters below the book's bold title. She smiled as she opened the book slowly, remembering the time when this book was inside of a badly wrapped pink package with a yellow bow. She grinned as she turned to Chapter 7: Quidditch Teams of Britain and Ireland, it was his favorite part. She remembered him reading it over and over and one day handing her this package which also contained tickets to the World Cup game inside. How he had slaved to get those tickets, waiting three days out in the rain just so they could go together. Even though she had no real interest in the sport, she couldn't bring herself to not thank him profusely for the gift and graciously accept the tickets.

However, that game became special.

She had never figured it out, maybe it was the excitement of the crowd or the lack of air due to the height of their seats. For some reason, as they walked away from that field he froze for a moment. She turned to face him, with a quizzical look.

He laughed, blushing, "You know Hermione, I really like you."

She simply gazed, frozen in time, bewildered.

"I don't know why I've never told you. I was frightened, I suppose. But you wouldn't have come with me today if you didn't feel the same way. I know you're not a big fan of the game."

She didn't know what to say or do, so she stood there feeling completely out of control, which she was.

"Hermione," he stepped closer, "Hermione…," he was inches from her face, "I…" He kissed her.

"Miss. Granger….MISS GRANGER!"

"WAIT! Oh….oooohh…sorry, what is it?"

"We have our work to turn in, class is over," several students surrounded her desk.

"Oh, yes dears, just put it here please, thank you."

"Goodbye, Miss. Granger." The students filtered out through the door.

Hermione laid her head on the desk. "He's here now…but it's not the same…it can never be the same."

KNOCK

"Yes!" Hermione shouted, head still lying on her desk.

"I was wondering if I could talk to you; you seemed a little shocked before."

She knew that voice that sweet…tender…HORRIBLE…INSENSITIVE voice. Hermione looked up, half shocked, half relieved. There he was, after all this time, waiting to talk to her.

"Yes, Ron."