Okay, just so you know, this is a sequel. I recommend you read the first story, but it is not needed because there is a summary in the 1st chapter. The orignal is called Lost a Lover, Gained Another. It's a Hermione and George story in case you're wondering. Well, enjoy!

In a month in a half, a lot had happened. Ron Weasley had been kidnapped by Draco Malfoy and Gregory Goyle. He had been mistaken for being dead. While Hermione Granger had cried long and hard over what she thought had been Ron's body, George Weasley was there to comfort her. He had recently lost Fred a month before Ron had been taken, so he understood her. Hermione and George became great friends. They became more then friends, actually. They had started dating. Then Hermione had seen Ron's patronus. She knew he was alive. She told George, and they had figured out that Malfoy was hiding him. Hermione and George saved Ron. Then Hermione realized, she had to choose between Ron and George. After many days of thought, she had chosen Ron. Now, Hermione walked into Ginny's room after telling Ron she had chosen him. He was ecstatic. He picked Hermione off her feet and start kissing her. Now, after they had scheduled a date for the next day and said goodnight, Hermione's mind thought only of him. Her mind raced of thoughts as she got into her bed. Then she thought of Ron saying,

"'If it weren't for you and George, I'd either die early in a cellar or be shipped off with a strong memory charm in America, they were thinking of doing that you know; and you and George would be on your honeymoon.'"

What if she hadn't gotten the patronus? What if she and George hadn't saved Ron? What if he had been put under a strong memory charm, and lived the rest of his life in America, not even knowing who she was, or he really was? Would she and George still be dating? What if…

"Well, it seems that it has taken you a year to finally realize I'M NOT RON!" George's words echoed in her head. She kept replaying the fight over and over again. "I feel sorry for you, Hermione," George had yelled. "Because it seems nobody can love you in a way Ron Weasley did! Nobody will ever be able to be your loving husband, because the only one you want is dead! You know, if you didn't keep comparing me to Ron, we'd still be together? It's just; I can't keep up with it, Hermione! I can't keep pretending to be someone I'm not! I'm out to find someone who loves me for me, not because I'm the next best thing to Ron!"

"George, that's not true!" Hermione had pleaded.

"No, Hermione, stop it! You know, I think I'm not a bad guy! But I want a girlfriend who tells me that, who encourages me and tells me I'm wonderful! No someone who says, 'yes, you're smile is cute, but when Ron would laugh…' It was fine at first, you were mourning, and we went a little fast so you were still getting over him, but I don't want to wait anymore! I want the girl back who loved me for me, not the girl who I'm scared might start calling me Ron!"

"George, don't do this, you're the closet thing to happiness I've had since Ron's died!" Hermione had cried.

"You know, the first time you said that, it was about a month after Ron's death. It was the sweetest thing I had heard." George said. "But now, it's a year after Ron's death, and I'm still 'the closet thing to happiness'! When do I ever become pure happiness?"

"George, you're the best thing that's happened to me since Ron's died!" She sobbed.

"When do I become the best thing that's happened to you, ever?" George yelled. "I'm just the best thing that's happened to you in a span of a year where tragic things happened like your boyfriend died!"

"George, no! I need you!" She yelled hysterically.

"No, you need Ron." George spat, speaking the truth. "I hope you find him. Oh wait, he's dead. Well, good luck on your own Hermione." He had told her, and walked out of her apartment right on before they were going to go on their anniversary dinner.

Now, she was packing her things. George had been her life for year. Ron had been her life for seven. Now she had no one, and felt incredibly lonely. She wanted to beg George to take her back, but Ginny said she shouldn't. She had suggested she take a vacation to get her mind off of George, to clear her thoughts and meet other guys. So, Hermione was now adding the last few supplies to her suitcase to her trip to New York City. It was a four day trip. Hermione closed her suitcase. After spending two days crying over George, she was ready to start over. She would still be crying now if Ginny hadn't forced her out. The other factor that made her sad, besides the fact that she and George had broken up and that George was incredibly mad at her and they were not speaking, was the truth of George's words. Nobody was right for her but Ron. And he was dead. And Hermione had just let a wonderful guy slip through her fingers. How many other men's hearts will she break, just because he isn't Ron Weasley? A tear ran down her cheek, and Hermione realized that she should stop thinking about that and get going. She held on to her suitcase and apperated.

She landed in an alley. When she walked out she was in the hustling, bustling city in of New York. She couldn't wait to explore.

New York was very fun. Hermione went to muggle places and wizarding places alike. The only thing was, it wasn't half as fun alone. A few days ago, George would be at her side. A year ago, Ron would be standing next to her. Harry and Ginny both had work, and weren't willing to take time off to come with her. She wanted someone here with her. She looked like a loser eating at restaurants all alone, and got bored because she had no one to talk to. She considered writing a letter to George, apologizing and asking him to come. But that was too extreme. Those things must be said in person. Ginny had suggested having a fun night out while she was there, and go to a club in New York to meet guys.

That's what Hermione decided to do. She had gone with a muggle club the front desk woman at the hotel had suggested, Dance 101. So, after Hermione had put on her cutest outfit that she had bought in New York, and out on the last touches to her makeup, she was ready to roll.

Hermione entered the club. It was packed with people. There was a big dance floor, and a bar on the side. There were tables with red lava lamps all around. The music was blaring from the speakers up a front next to the D.J. Hermione talked small talk with some people, but that was pretty much it. She didn't feel like dancing, because she'd be dancing alone, so she decided she'd get a drink.

"One butter- I mean one root beer." She told the barman.

Hermione waited, drumming her fingers to the music. She sat silently, watching other people. "And I was like, 'Bloody Hell! Turn it off! Turn it off!'" A young man shouted. The voice sounded oddly familiar. She kept her ears alert. People were laughing to the man's story. "The blender was going berserk, there's stuff flying everywhere, and the new guy's just sitting there in fear! And I'm like, 'Bloody Hell! Shut that thing off!' And he's like, you do it!" Hermione turned around. There was no mistakening that voice. It was a thick British accent in the mist of Americans, and total British lingo coming out of his mouth. To Hermione's surprise, she turned around to see the entertainer had vibrant red hair. And she slowly walked closer towards him, and her heart skipped a beat. There was no mistakening it. The young man was Ron Weasley.

Hermione had no idea how he was just hanging out at an American Muggle club, not at home in England in the wizarding world, but she was about to find out.

"Ron!" She screamed, and ran up to him, giving him a big hug. She started crying. "Oh my goodness, I don't believe this! How is this possible? I've thought you were dead for a year! Oh, Ron!" She looked up at him. He was not smiling or crying of happiness. He was giving her a mingled look of fear and disgust.

"Get off me!" He yelled, wiggling out of her tight grip.

"Ron?" Hermione said, now starting to cry tears of sadness. "I don't get it?"

"I don't get it either!" He screamed. "And I have no idea who Ron is!"

"That's just silly." Hermione laughed.

Ron stared at her.

"Drunk, by the sound of it." A blonde girl told Ron. "And she doesn't look much older than us. So that would mean she's not allowed to drink yet. What a shame, what drinking does to the underage." She said, shaking her head.

"I'm not drunk!" Hermione retorted. "You're Ron Weasley!" She said, pointing a finger at Ron.

"Hey, babe, you can call me whatever you want." A brunette boy said. "Let me buy you a drink. But let's go easy on the alcohol."

Hermione let out a retching noise. "Come off it." Ron said, laughing and giving a playful punch to his friend.

"Look, ummm, little girl-

"I'm not little! I'm just a few months older than you! You're birthday's March 1!"

"Stalker!" The brunette said.

"Jeez, you've really got you're facts right." Said Ron, taken aback. "And I'm sorry but I had nothing else to call you since I don't know you. And you obviously don't know me But I'm not Ron Weezley or whatever you're calling me. My name's Ethan Flanagan."

It seemed the world was crashing down. Hermione knew for a fact he was Ron Weasley. But Ron didn't seem to know who he was. It seemed that whoever kidnapped him put him under a memory charm and sent him to America.

"Ethan…Ethan Flanagan?" Hermione repeated.

"Yeah." Said Ron slowly, like she was two years old.

"Are you alright?" The blonde girl asked gently.

"Ron, er, Ethan, could I talk to you alone for a second?" Hermione asked timidly.

"I'm not going anywhere alone with you." Ron snapped.

Hermione ignored this comment. She decided she would ask him questions about his past, because obviously he must realize he doesn't have parents.

"What about you're parents?" Hermione asked him curiosity.

"They were murdered." Ron said, glaring at her. "The murderer burned the house down, and I lost everything. I came to America to start a new life."

The blonde girl gave him a hug. The brunette patted him on the back and said, "And what a good new life you have."

"So you don't have any pictures of yourself?" Hermione asked.

"No. I told you that." Ron said stubbornly.

"I do." Hermione said. Ron and his friends glanced at one another. Hermione fumbled through her purse. "I'll show you one, but if you want to see the rest, or if you want to know how I got one, you'll have to talk to me."

Hermione had four pictures in her wallet. One of her and George with their arms around each other that she forgot to discard, one of Harry, Ron, and Hermione in first year, one of Hermione and Ron in fourth year, and one of Ron and Hermione kissing after the war.

Hermione handed the one of her and Ron in fourth year.

Ron and his friends huddled around the picture. "That does look a lot like you, Ethan." The blonde girl concluded. "You must have been around fourteen or something."

"Still look the same, Ethan." Said the brunette boy, grinning. "But then, that must be the brown haired nutty chick, right?"

The girl nodded. Ron said nothing. He seemed to be in shock.

"You were so cute!" The blonde girl said, hugging him again.

"What the heck are you two wearing?" Said the boy, laughing at their school robes.

"You are dressed rather oddly." The girl agreed, and they both laughed. Ron remained silent.

"We need to talk." He said.