A/N: Ok, Hermione30, I'm writing this chapter because you said to.  I wasn't gonna write another tonight, but….

Oh, and yea, if I didn't write it, I'd be confused, but I have the whole plot written out.  Things will clear up in this chapter.  *Goes and reads last chappie, with mind totally blank* yes, if I didn't know what happens, I'd be confused.  Well, enough rambling and repeating…ON WITH THE STORY!

Disclaimer: (Sry, I forgot last chapter) I don't Harry Potter…never will.

Chapter 2: Finding out

            "You were WHAT??"  Hermione and Ron exclaimed in unison, so loud that several muggles turned around and stared.

            "Yeah, I was married to her.  In a different life.  Her name…her name was…Jasmine.  Yes, Jasmine Fria.  She was a witch."  An insane grin spread over Harry's face.  Hermione was scared…it seemed like one of her best friends was going mad.

            "Harry?  Are you feeling alright?" Hermione asked again.

            "Yeah, I'm fine just…reminiscing," said Harry, with a dreamy look on his face as he stared at Jasmine, giving her…um…unusual massage.  "Lets go in and see her."

            Ron and Hermione looked as though they were wondering whether or not to apparate to St. Mungos.

            "Come ON!" cried Harry, as he grabbed Ron's arm.

            "Harry, we're not going anywhere until you tell us what's going on," said Ron, seriously.

            "Alright," grumbled Harry, giving in.  "I'll tell you.  No, I already told you.  We were married.  In a former life, or something.  I can feel it.  Look, I'll prove it.  I'll call her over."

            "Wait, Harry.  You're not done explaining."

            "Oh, yeah.  Well, I'll call her over later.  This is gonna sound really corny and untrue, but I read in a book somewhere, Hermione can back me up…" Hermione's eyes brightened at the mention of a book.  "I read that if two people share a special bond, made solely by true, unconditional love, it is impossible to forget, even after death.  Even if it was in a different life…"

            "Yes!  I've read all about that, in a book called Love or Something Like It…All It's Secrets, Emotions, and Rules," said Hermione, importantly.  "It clearly stated that, well, Harry already explained it quite well, and its called Nonpareil Deify."

            "God," exasperated Ron, "Five years out of school, and she still acts like a walking encyclopedia!"

            Harry chuckled, and Hermione shot them both a cold glare.

            "Okay, Harry, now that we know somewhat what's going on, shall we go in?" Ron said, rather zealously, as though he wanted an unusual massage, too.

            "Ron!  Harry can't just waltz right in, and say, 'Hey, I know you from a former life…we were married!'" whispered Hermione, impatiently.

            "Well, what's you're clever idea, Little-Miss-Perfect?"

            "Ron, that was appropriate in first year, maybe, but we're 22 years old!  Grow UP!"

            "'Ron, that was appropriate in first year, maybe, but we're 22 years old!  Grow UP!'" mimicked Ron.

            Hermione groaned, and opened her mouth to scream something back at Ron, but Harry put a hand over her lips, muffling the sound.

            "Not now, guys.  I wanna go see Jasmine."

            Harry looked around carefully, and then took out his wand, pointed at his two best friends, muttered, "Followsophis!" and led the way as Hermione and Ron unwillingly followed.

            The trio walked through the door, and the tinkling of the copper bell could be heard.  Miz Meyers, who was a year older than them and American, was sitting at a table, getting up when she saw Harry, Ron, and Hermione.

            "Hey Guys!  The usual, I presume…?"

            She couldn't finish her sentence, because Harry cut her off screaming, "JASMINE!"

            When she didn't turn around, he yelled her name again.  Still no response.

            "Harry?" asked Miz Meyers, "Are you tryin' to get that girls attention?  Here, let me help.  Her names not Jasmine…I don't think…. Hey!  Hey, you, the player!"

            At this Jasmine turned around from the extreme amount of kissing she was now doing with her "massage" client.

            "What??" she asked, sounding like a Valley-Girl, and very annoyed from being interrupted from something so important.

            "This is Harry…" Jasmine looked at him, and jumped slightly.  No, it couldn't be… "Ron and Hermione."

            She waved, being everything but friendly, and turned back to the young man whose face was covered in pink lipstick.

            "JASMINE!" Harry yelled again, as he ran between tables to get to her.

            "WHAT??" she yelled again, frustrated.

            "Ah HA!  Your name IS Jasmine.  That's good to know."

            Ooops, thought Jasmine.

            "Harry?  Come 'ere for a minute…I wanna talk to ya." Drawled Miz Meyers.

            "I'll talk to YOU later…" said Harry to Jasmine.  She shrugged, and went back to adding more lipstick to the poor muggles face.  He seemed to be enjoying it, though.

*          *          *

"Harry, I just wanna to tell you a li'l 'bout this playa' girl.  She's a pretty girl, yes, but dat's da…wait, lemme check…332 guy I've seen her with.  She's bad news, Harry.  She's a girl who likes flava' o' da weeks too much…mor' like flava' o' da dayz…

*          *          *

"Ron, their called dill pickles," said Hermione slowly, as though explaining to a toddler.

"Wow, 'Mione, their good!"

Dill Pickles.  The new muggle food that Miz Meyers put on all the little, round tables.  Hermione thought it was getting to be a bad idea.  Ron already had two jars, and was going steady on his third.  Once the jars were empty, they magically refilled themselves.  (This was one example of how small magic was used around the bar, and why Miz Meyers was waiting to get her 'laser door memory charm'…as a muggle walked out of the door, this laser beam will rid them of all the magic they witnessed)

Hermione and Ron were sitting at a little table, waiting for Harry to do whatever he wanted to.

Napkins also fascinated Ron.  Ordinary, paper napkins, that said, "100% recycled material," on them.  "Weird!  I've only seen wizard ones, where they wipe your face clean for you."

*          *          *

Harry ignored Miz Meyer's comments about Jasmine, and walked up to her once the bright-pink-faced (because of the lipstick) young muggle left. 

She turned around, and there he was in front of her.  Oh, bloody hell, what AM I gonna do now?  Oh forget it, he knows already.  I could tell.

She pretended that nothing was wrong.  "Sooooo, you want a massage, pink face, a red face, or a bedroom?"

"Jasmine, you know why I'm here."

Jasmine could tell her nervous face gave her away.

"Okay, Harry, love.  Listen…"

*          *          *

To be continued…

A/N: Well, I'm almost done this story.  One or two more chappies will end it. 

         BTW, I had a dream this happened, and Jasmine was one of my classmates. 

(That's not her real name)  That's why I wrote this story, and this one's dedicated to you, Jen!

TTYL!

*FairySprinkles*