Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter. Nor do I own The Merchant of Venice.

A/N: You know that awe inspiring quote said by Toni Morrison? She said, "If there's a book that you want to read, but it hasn't been written yet, then you must write it." Well, that's why I'm writing this one. I tried and tried but still couldn't find anything like this. So I'm writing it haha.

Timeless

:-Part 1

He didn't know he was watching her until the girl behind him coughed and said he was blocking the way. Acting on instinct, he quickly turned to apologize before hurrying to walk to the door.

He adjusted his dark blue sleeve to check his watch. It says 9:15 AM. He has a flight at 11:00 AM but he only needs thirty minutes to get there by car. Or if all else fails, he could always just apparate.

"Man, are you going to leave or what?" said a voice from behind him, and he turned to realize that he was blocking the exit.

Muttering his apologies, he walked to the side, cursing to himself even as he pulled out a random book from the shelf and quickened his strides before he could change his mind again.

It was with sweaty hands and shaky breath that he found himself standing in front of the table in the farthest corner of the library.

"Hi, my name's Harry Potter," he said, drying his hand on his cashmere coat before gesturing to the chair across hers. "Do you mind if I sit with you?"

The girl who was occupying the table alone looked up from her book to stare at him quizzically. He mentally scolded himself, guessing that she probably thinks he's either a creep or a stalker or both for asking to sit with her when there are obviously too many empty tables around.

"Ahm, sure." was her soft and hesitant answer, before her gaze returned to the page she was reading.

Disappointment hit him like a flash at how uninteresting he must be for her. But he released a relieved sigh nevertheless. A bloke must take what he's been given.

Being very careful to not make any sound, he pulled out the chair across hers and made himself comfortable. Trying not to stare at the girl in front of him, he pretended to read and tried not to roll his eyes at how he just had to pick a book on prophetic dreams of all things. Didn't fate realize how much he detested divination?

It took exactly ten minutes and fifteen seconds before his boredom was disrupted by her giggles.

He allowed himself to look, but he couldn't help it if he smiled. Her eyes had never once left the book, even as she turned the page.

A chuckle escaping his mouth caught her attention though, and she smiled sheepishly at him.

"Sorry," she said, looking embarrassed, "I didn't mean to disturb your reading. Just that, the character said something humorous."

"Oh, I don't mind. You have a beautiful laugh."

Her eyes widened at his impulsive answer, and he instantly realized his mistake.

"I mean-" he started to say desperately, wracking his brain on how to make amends, "I didn't mean-, err I was just-, well you have-"

"A beautiful laugh," she said, the corner of her lips quirking into a smirk, and he was caught mesmerized by her brown eyes that were sparkling with amusement, "Yes, I heard you the first time."

He felt his cheeks getting warmed and he blurted out the first thing that came to mind.

"I'm Harry Potter," he said, his face grimacing at hearing his own pathetic words. Seriously, what difference does a total idiot have from the savior of the bloody Wizarding world? It feels very close to nil.

But at least he got to hear her laugh again. He wanted to both cry and laugh when she decided to take pity on him.

"And I'm Hermione Granger," she said at last, eyes alternating between him and the very interesting book she has in front of her.

"What are you reading?" he asked, desperate to keep her attention.

Her mouth fell slightly open in disbelief, but she quickly closed it and eyed him curiously.

"William Shakespeare's Merchant of Venice," she answered.

He nodded, and did his best to look thoughtful as he recited the only line he remembered from his late night reading, "The quality of mercy is not strained. It droppeth as the gentle rain from heaven upon the place beneath. It is twice blest: It blesseth him that gives and him that takes."

She gasped at his words, and hurriedly turned the pages to check the accuracy of his recital, no doubt. The way her face brightened was enough tell that she must have found what she's looking for.

"That's very precise, I must say," she commented, amazed.

He shrugged.

"I do my reading is all. Your name, Hermione, I remember it's also a character from one of Shakespeare's plays, isn't that right?"

She smiled at him then, a real smile. And he had to gulp at the invisible arrow that pierced his heart and caused his chest to tighten. Merlin, he missed that smile.

"Yes, it is," she agreed, "My parents adore Shakespeare so they named me after Hermione of The Winter's Tale."

"The virtuous and beautiful queen. I think it's fitting."

He stifled a huge grin when he realized he was able to make her blush. He thinks that he would remember this day forever.

"Thank you, I suppose." She said, still looking embarrassed.

He couldn't help smiling kindly at her. "Don't mention it. It's the truth anyway."

But then it was her turn to look thoughtful and he watched her as she frowned, "But how can you say I'm virtuous? It's our first time seeing each other."

Her question was logical and expected, and his only response was to stare into her eyes and hope that the windows through his soul would not convey everything he was determined to hide from her.

He wanted to tell her she's wrong. He wanted to feel smug because she's never wrong. But he couldn't tell her that. Just like he couldn't tell her that he knows how brilliant, how kind, how sacrificial, and how brave she is.

And so he stares at her, unaware of the billion questions forming on her mind about the mysterious stranger with the most beautiful bright green eyes she had ever set her eyes on.

Neither dared to speak because neither knew what to say anyway. But neither had to, since it was his phone that broke the silence for them and earned them the scathing looks from the other three people in the library.

"Sorry," He mumbled, silencing his alarm and feeling amused with himself for apologizing without meaning to for the nth time today. But then the amusement dissipated and disappointment washed over him again like a tidal wave at the message that popped on his phone.

"I'm needed now," he said, unable to keep himself from sounding sad, "I have to go."

"Oh," was her response, "Well, you should leave then."

"It's a pleasure to meet you here."

"It was nice knowing you Mr. Potter."

"I'm not Mr. Potter. Well, I am, but I'm not. I'm just Harry, not Potter, but-" he stopped himself when he saw her eyeing him and restraining a laugh. "I'm rambling again, aren't I?"

She giggled.

"A little bit, yes."

"I'm sorry, I'm just-"

"Harry. Just Harry. I get it. Well, it was nice knowing you Harry."

He nodded and pulled out of his chair with a defeated sigh.

"Duty calls. But I want you to know, it really is a pleasure to see you here. I do hope I'll see you again and soon, Miss Granger," he said, offering her a handshake and trying to not get too hopeful when he spotted her trying to hide a frown at his statement.

She didn't need to know how painful it feels to call his best friend of many years by her surname.

"Goodbye Harry."

He didn't hesitate to grasp her hand tightly when she accepted his hand.

"Goodbye," he said, reminding himself of who and where he was, and how awkward and uncomfortable it would be for the both of them if he suddenly bursts into tears.

So not without great difficulty, he let go of her hand and walked away, only allowing his mouth to speak when he thinks she couldn't hear him.

"I really hope to see you again, Hermione."

The End

...or is it?

A/N: I'll take your reviews as the go signal if you want the continuation :) That, or I might just continue anyway if I feel like it. Have a good day!