Chapter 6. When Time Flies

Disclaimer. I don't own him. I will never own him but I own Daniel Jacob Radcliffe in my dreams. :3

Nine years ago...

Eighteen years old Hermione was walking along the sidewalks of the post village where she and her aunt are living. She was here for less than a month, but has no friends. It looks like there's nobody with the same age as me, thought Hermione. Or maybe, it was because she rarely goes out. After school, she would help with the chores and when she's done she will pour over her books.

The only time she goes out of the house is when she would do grocery shopping, just like now. She does not feel bad about not going more often, she's very happy just to stay at home and read. She has few friends in the university and thinks that the time she spent with these friends at the campus are enough for socialization.

Hermione just loves walking in the morning. She was taking in all the crisp air, she didn't notice that the bag with vegetables were starting to rip. She gasped when a tomato hit her feet and saw the other vegetables rolling on the street. She quickly placed the other plastics containing other grocery items and began to go after the pieces of vegetables rolling in the road.

She jumped when a pair of hands started to help her. Hermione was stunned to see a handsome young man who was picking up the onions. She does not know or remember if he ever met him, but she's sure he was drop dead gorgeous. She snapped out her trance when the good looking human being, I think he is a Greek God, Hermione thought, asked her a question.

"Is there anything else missing?' the guy simply asked.

Hermione looked at the vegetables sitting on the pavement and shook her head. Snap out of it Hermione, it's not the first time you saw a good looking man. You've seen handsome quidditch star players before, Hermione thought about and could not help but smile.

Harry was about to walk away, after helping the pretty girl when he saw her smile. I bet that smile could send rockets to space, he thought. He has seen the girl before, the day he arrived from vacation less than a month ago. He has seen her again when she's walking home on one evening. It was already dark and he saw this figure that was slowly walking down the streets. This girl is crazy, she could've been robbed or something, Harry thought.

"I'm Harry," Harry extended his hand and introduce himself.

Hermione looked at his hand and shook it. She felt as if sparks was running through his fingers. If Harry felt it, he didn't show anything.

"Hermione," she said and quickly pulled her hand away.

Harry brushed his hand on his long messy hair, missing an inch of his hair that hid his scar, he felt burned. The simple handshake felt so hot it could melt an iceberg. "That's a nice name," Harry said. "Shakespeare is one of my favorite poets." Harry wants to hit himself. Is that the best thing you could say, Harry whispered to himself angrily.

Hermione glanced and smiled at Harry. Darn, it's that frigging smile again, Harry thought.

Hermione was trying not to look at Harry. But she could feel the warmth of his stare at her back. She was trembling when trying to fit the vegetables into another plastic bag. She sat down the pavement, because she feels her knees would be buckling any minute.

Harry decided to sit down too, and help her. They were busy trying to figure out how to fit everything inside the plastic bags when Harry raised his hands as if he's surrendering.

"It won't fit," Harry said. "I'll help you carry them home."

"Thanks," Hermione answered. "I can manage. Why don't you just go and jog."

Harry grinned, "Nah, the sun's getting too hot anyway. Do you jog?"

Hermione was captivated with Harry's lopsided grin that it took a lot of effort to draw her gaze away from his face. "No, I just walk. I love walking during mornings."

"I think you also love walking at night," Harry volunteered. Hermione looked at him questioningly. "Well, I saw you walking at night. I just live a few blocks away from you. Once and it was almost eleven o'clock in the evening and you're walking alone. That's dangerous."

Hermione looked at the green eyed stranger who was giving her advice and could not help laughing. Harry looked at the girl beside him who was laughing hard. He did not say anything funny, but she was laughing her lungs out. And fortunately, he found it was music to his ears. He could not help himself but laugh aloud, too.

"You have no idea how weird it is to be listening about the dangers in the streets when I'm actually talking to a total stranger," explained Hermione while wiping her eyes.

"That's really ironic," Harry shook his head. "But I'm not a stranger, you know my name and I know yours. That's my house," he pointed. "And that's yours."

Hermione looked at both houses, they were actually close to each other. But Hermione needs to come clean, she never denied her muggle family background and her status in life except her magical side that must be kept in total secrecy to non-magical people. "Yes, I came from France and just moved here with my Aunt's since my parents-," Her voice faltered at the last word.

Harry looked at Hermione, waiting for her to finish what she has to say. After a full minute of silence she continued with her voice a little hoarse and tears flowing on her cheeks. "Since my parents died."

"I'm sorry," Harry whispered. He wanted to beat himself for making the girl beside him cry. He gently put his arms around his shoulder and pulled her close to him slowly. He closed his eyes and also thought about his mother's death. He realized that he hasn't got the chance to mourn her because he was just a baby when she died protecting him. His dad was devastated but he never blamed Harry for his wife's death. James blamed Voldemort. Harry blamed Voldemort for killing their chance to live a happy and complete family.

A few minutes passed, Hermione began to pull out of his comforting hug. "I'm sorry, I wet your shirt," She apologized. Wiping her tears away from her face, she looked up at Harry and saw the pain flashed in his eyes and it was gone.

"It's alright," he replied. "Are you now okay?" He looked deeply concerned for her.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. It's just the first time I opened up my parents' death to people," Hermione said. She told him about her parents, her life there in France, she told him everything omitting her being a witch. She doesn't want to scare him and break her new found friendship with him. He carefully listened and gives comments and such to her life story. They did not notice that the pavement was getting hotter, the sun starting to crawl in the middle of the sky, and that car passing them by frequently.

They sat there in the sidewalk talking as if they have known each other for the longest time. They felt the same way, they did not notice how often Harry would say that "I feel that I've known you before." They also don't notice how Hermione would hit Harry's arm whenever she finds something he said, was funny. They did not notice, because it felt like they have been doing these conversations before.

Hermione heard a ringing sound and felt her pocket vibrated. She quickly pulled her mobile phone and answered her Aunt's call.

"Where are you," Her Aunt asked nervously. "You've been gone for almost three hours."

Hermione was surprised, and assured her that she just met a friend in the village. After ending the call, she immediately stood up and looked at Harry.

"That was my aunt," Hermione explained, grabbing her packages quickly. "I have to go home. We've been sitting here talking for two hours already."

Harry was surprised and looked at his watch. Damn, he swore silently. He was supposed to go to the Longbottom Manor to visit Neville, but he completely forgot. "I didn't notice the time." Harry said apologetically.

"No its, okay," Hermione smiled at him. "It was really great talking to you," Hermione offered her hand.

Harry shook it, and Hermione quickly let his hand go. She started to walk away quickly. But before she ran, she turned to him and waved. Harry smiled and started to walk toward his house.

The present…

Harry and Hermione were sitting on the sidewalk, where they talked nine years ago. Harry was looking at the pavement and asked, "Is that how became close?"

Hermione shook her head, "No. We didn't talk again after that. We just met a couple of times, but you have friends with you and I have school works and my Aunt with me. So all we do is just wave at each other."

Harry was looking at Hermione, "You must be joking." Harry said. "We never saw each other again?"

Hermione smiled. "My Aunt's family decided to move into another house after my Uncle got promoted from his work. So there was never a second time after that."

"But how," Harry asked.

"That's for another story," Hermione shared.

Harry was about to ask for the other story when Hedwig flew directly to Harry's shoulder. Hedwig then flew to the house after Harry got the letter and opened it.

Harry,

I'm free Monday afternoon. Meet me at our favorite restaurant at 4 pm.

Ginny

He folded the letter and slid it to his pocket.

"Was it Ginny, "Hermione asked.

"Yes." There's no point in lying to her, Harry thought. "We'll be meeting on Monday afternoon."

Harry felt guilty when he saw the pain in Hermione's eyes. "Please, you have to understand that I don't remember you. But I remember her."

Hermione held Harry's hand and looked away. "I know. Perhaps she could help you remember your past." She squeezed Harry's hand before standing up. "I'm going home now, you also need to get inside the house and rest."

Harry watched the slim figure away and disappeared. Why does it feel that he has let something very important slip between his fingers?

A/N: Another flashback. Don't you just love them? Sorry about breaking poor Hermione's heart again. :( Blame the one who invented the word amnesia. Please review! :)