Once again, I apologize for the first chapter. It wasn't too interesting, but I hope things get better from there on.

And to Harry's Girl—this story actually is a fanfic based off of Kal Ho Na Ho. Just basically because it's my favorite movie of all time. :

Chapter 2-

::10 Years Later::

"What do you mean there was no order! Of course there was an order—I placed it myself!" Hermione shouted into her phone. She paused to listen to the response of the speaker on the other end, and then in one angry motion slammed the phone down onto the table.

"Well, that went well," Hermione looked up to see Ron, a pen resting between his teeth staring at her with an amused expression.

Hermione grunted in response and plopped down onto the table. "These American Muggles," she growled, snatching Ron's paper from under him and eyeing it, "What's this Ron? You haven't written anything!"

"I hate this," Ron growled, "I thought seven years of Hogwarts would be enough. Turns out in 'America'—"he mimicked quotation marks with his fingers—"you have to go through your education all over again." He sighed and frowned. "I wish we were still in London…I wouldn't have to be writing a term paper."

"Or arguing with brainless gits over a phone," Hermione added.

"Or using a—"Ron paused and looked at the device in his hand, "A pen, right?"

"Right," Hermione sighed and shuffled through the papers in front of her, "I know I ordered those candlesticks. I should have the papers in here somewhere…"

The room lapsed back into silence as Ron scratched a few marks on his paper and Hermione dug through her papers trying to find her order forms.

Right after their graduation Ron and Hermione had moved to New York, with Hermione's mum to try to start over again. They ran a little bakery in a small corner of New York.

Ever since the fateful day when Harry went missing, Hermione and Ron hadn't mentioned him. In fact, they'd almost completely gotten rid of everything that reminded them of him. No magic, no Hogwarts, and definitely no talk of Quidditch—much to Ron's obvious dismay. The only thing they had in memory of him was a small photo of the three of them, in sixth year, which rested on Hermione's nightstand—untouched and dusty.

And that was it.

- - - - - - -

"You said two-thirty," Hermione said, eyeing her watch, "It's three. I have to be in class in an hour!"

"I know!" her friend, Becca squealed, "Sis should be here by now! The flight's delayed."

Becca was one of the few friends that Ron and Hermione had made in New York. She was more their friend because she was the only person they knew that would let their constant little "outbursts" slip without too much notice.

"Stupid Muggle planes," Hermione growled under her breath.

"Stupid what?" Becca asked, looking confused. She, obviously, was a Muggle.

"Stupid planes," Ron said quickly, shooting Hermione a warning look, "Hermione hates planes."

Hermione responded by eyeing her watch again and clucking her tongue. Becca glared at her.

"You know, it's not my fault that Sis' plane is late," she said, "And you offered to give me a ride!"

"Ignore her Becca," Ron said, "Hermione's paranoid."

Hermione glared at him. "You have a class in an hour too, you know."

A voice then came over the intercom, cutting of Ron's reply. "Flight 3201 from San Francisco, California has just arrived at Gate 3B."

"That's her plane!" Becca squealed, jumping up and eyeing as passengers spilled out of the gates. "Ohh!" Becca yelled, even louder, "There she is! That's her! Mia!"

She ran off towards the gate, pushing her way through the crowds. Ron, with a raised eyebrow, looked at Hermione.

"Do you see her?"

Hermione shook her head. "It's sisterly bonding. We wouldn't understand it."

"What are you talking about?" Ron goggled at her, "Incase you've forgotten I have 6 other siblings. I never have my 'brother' moments."

"There's a difference between sisterly bonding and brotherly bonding," Hermione explained, "Girls have their own ways of doing—"

She was cut off as a passenger bumped into her shoulder, spinning her around.

"Oh!" the man said, catching her shoulder and steadying her, "I'm so—"

His face paled as he noticed Hermione. He tanned skin and dark black hair which he anxiously pressed over his face as he eyed Hermione.

His hand immediately left her shoulder, but Hermione couldn't help stare at him. There was something familiar about this man, something…unique. Somehow he reminded her of…

No. No, he couldn't. He…he wasn't—

"It's okay," Hermione stuttered, looking back into the man's deep blue eyes.

Wait—blue eyes?

"It's okay mate," Ron said, coming and standing next to them, "Hermione's so jittery, it's probably her own fault."

The man's face turned even whiter. "I-"he looked back at Hermione and gulped, "I'm sorry."

He turned and then strode away quickly into the crowd. She knew she shouldn't, but Hermione couldn't help but stare at him as he walked quickly. And the minute she blinked her eyes, he was gone. It was as if he had…

"Ron!" Hermione gasped, "Did that man just Apparate?"

Ron stared at her. "I think you've been away from the magical world far too—"he stopped short as Becca, her arms looped around an older girl's, walked back to them. "Oh, hi Mia. How was San Francisco?"

Hermione tried to listen to what Mia was saying, but all she could think about was the man. Her eyes scanned over the airport while they walked out, hoping for a glimpse of him, but she could see nothing.

"It's nothing," she thought to herself, "Maybe I am paranoid, like Ron said. That man was just an average man. An average man."

But no matter how much she tried to convince herself, she couldn't believe it.

Okay. Still dull—but if it doesn't get better by the next chapter, you have all license to kill me. And it'll get longer too. Or at least, I hope.

The little tiny box marked 'Review' is dying to be pressed. So please—do it. :