Chapter 2
The Fat Lady was asleep in her portrait when he got back to the Common Room entrance. He was lucky that he hadn't run into anyone on the way back considering that he'd forgotten to check the map. At least he'd had his cloak. He looked around him before taking his invisibility cloak off and tucking it away.
"Banana fritters."
The Fat Lady continued to snore. He cleared his throat, but she did not wake up.
"Excuse me!"
Her eyes flew open.
"What? What was that, dearie?"
"Banana fritters."
She covered her mouth and yawned, then slowly blinked at him.
"I'm sorry, that's not the password."
Harry looked at her, perplexed and still slightly nauseated from the spinning bathroom. "What? Yes, it is. You must be mistaken."
She raised an eyebrow. "I must, must I? No, I'm quite positive that isn't the password."
"You know me; just let me in," Harry said.
She wagged a finger at him. "I know you're new, dearie, but you should know the rules. No password, no entrance."
He shook his head, the confusion setting in. "I'm not new."
"Harry? Is that you?"
Hermione was walking up the stairs towards him, a book held tight to her chest.
"Yeah, apparently there's a new password that was changed in the last hour."
She tilted her head, eyebrows scrunching in confusion. "New password? I didn't realize there was a new one."
Harry chuckled. "That makes two of us. Umm, Hermione, did you do something to yourself?"
Hermione had drawn near enough to him for him to realize that she was shorter than he remembered. A closer inspection of her face revealed that she looked younger as well.
Hermione blushed. "What do you mean?"
He gestured at her face. "I mean, you look different. New charm go wrong?"
Her hands flew to her face, her voice becoming shrill. "What's wrong with my face?"
Harry backpedaled. "Oh, um, nothing. It's fine. Great, in fact."
The blush on Hermione's cheeks deepened. She mumbled the password, "Caput Draconis."
Harry started. "That's the password? We haven't had that password since our first year."
Hermione's face mirrored his own confusion now. "Our first year? Harry, are you alright?"
"What? Yes?" He rubbed his forehead. "I guess I just added too many perfumed soaps to my bath."
"But the baths are in the dorm. And when did we get perfumed soaps?"
"Oh, no, I just used the Prefects' Bathroom. To figure out the egg, remember?" He held up the golden egg as proof.
"The egg? The Prefects' Bathroom?" Hermione's confusion had now surpassed his own.
"Yeah, for the Second Task," he said slowly, nodding his head in time with each word as if this would jog her memory.
"There's a task? In what class? Did I miss something?" she asked frantically.
"What? No. For the—" He stopped as he realized that Hermione had no idea what he was talking about. Something strange was going on. "Nevermind, just a joke."
"Goodness, you scared me," she said, laying a hand on her chest
"Do you two plan on entering? Because I certainly don't plan on being open all night."
They had almost forgotten about the Fat Lady, but at her reminder they both stepped into the portrait hole.
"Do we do that now?" she asked him shyly as they entered the spacious common room.
"What do you mean?" he said, too tired to really think about what she could be talking about.
"I mean, friends joke around… are we friends?"
He whipped his head around, straining his neck. "What do you mean 'are we friends'? Of course we are!" He rubbed at his neck where it had already become sore. "Why would you ask something like that?"
She shrugged. "I just wasn't sure. With you and Ron being friends and all. I mean, it's not like we really spend time together outside of class."
Harry's face softened and he continued to rub his neck, but more out of discomfort and guilt now than pain. "I didn't realize you felt that way. I'm sorry." He stopped and reached out to stop her as well. She looked at him expectantly. "I know I'm not always the friend I should be, but, no matter what, you and I will always be friends Hermione."
Hermione bit her lip, and Harry knew that she was trying to keep herself from grinning. They continued walking, moseying towards the staircases.
He nudged her. "By the way, what were you doing out? I thought you'd gone to bed already."
"No, I just fell asleep in the library. Madam Pince found me and wrote me a note. What about you?"
He shrugged. "Just exploring."
Hermione pursed her lips. "You know that's against school rules, Harry."
He chuckled. "So you always tell me."
They stopped at the foot of the stairs leading to the girls' dorm.
"See you in the morning, Hermione."
"See you, Harry." She scampered up the stairs, and Harry shook his head as she disappeared around the first curve. There was definitely something strange going on, but his mind was muddled from exhaustion. He could figure it out in the morning. He dragged himself up the stairs, automatically opening the door and kicking his shoes off before collapsing into bed.
"What the hell!?"
Harry had landed on something lumpy and he leapt out of bed at the ensuing yell.
"Potter, what are you doing in here?"
"I was going to bed. What are you doing here?"
"You're in the wrong room, idiot. Do you not know the difference between a four and a one?"
The other sleeping students started to wake up.
"A one?" Harry asked.
A pillow flew out of the dark and hit him square in the face.
"Get out!"
Harry nearly tripped over his feet in his hurry to get out of the room, remembering to grab his shoes before shutting the door behind him.
What the hell is going on? First the different password, then Hermione's strange behavior, and finally, going into the wrong room. Was he back in his first year at Hogwarts? He shook his head to clear it. This had to be a dream. He pinched himself, but nothing happened. If this is a dream, I hope I don't drown, he thought to himself, recalling his earlier thoughts on the matter.
He found the right room and crawled under the covers. Maybe if he fell asleep he'd wake up back in the Prefects' Bathroom. His eyes fluttered shut, thoughts of perverted ghosts and vanilla bath beads invading his dreams.
The next morning Harry had nearly forgotten about the night before. But as soon as he looked in the mirror, it all came back. Hermione wasn't the only one who looked younger. He had nearly let out a yell when he first saw the baby-faced kid staring back at him. He pinched and prodded his cheeks. It was him, but younger.
"What are you doing?"
Ron had stepped into the bathroom behind him and was giving Harry a weird look.
Harry dropped his hand, "Oh, nothing. You too, then?" He pointed at Ron's face.
"Me too, what?"
"Your face. I noticed Hermione's last night and mine just now. And now, yours too."
He squeezed himself in between Harry and the wall, inspecting his face in the mirror. "What's wrong with my face? And what were you doing with Hermione last night?"
"We all look younger. Do you not see it?"
"No, I don't. And you didn't answer my question about Hermione."
"I just ran into her on my way back from the bathroom."
Ron met his eyes in the mirror. "On your way back from the bathroom? She was up here? In our room?"
"What? No, from the—" He stopped himself, a sense of dejavu coming over him. "Umm nevermind. I didn't get a lot of sleep last night."
"Uh, huh. Well, if your done primping, there are a few of us who'd like to use the bathroom."
Harry took one last look at himself before heading out to get dressed.
Harry slid into the bench next to Hermione and began loading up his plate. He had approximately five minutes to shovel down as much food as he possibly could.
"Harry, if you don't take the time to chew your food you're liable to choke on it." Hermione watched in fascination as Harry went through half a plate of food in minutes.
"You obviously don't know anything. Men have been eating like that for centuries." Ron had walked up behind them, and he rolled his eyes at what he saw as Hermione's lack of knowledge of a basic male skill set.
"I'm pretty sure the digestive system works the same in both sexes, Ronald," Hermione said.
Ron snorted. "Sexes," he let out a small laugh, but then cleared his throat as Harry and Hermione gave him exasperated looks. "Why are you even sitting over here, mate?"
Harry swallowed a mouthful of food, taking a swig of orange juice to wash it down. "Actually, there's something I wanted to talk to both of you about."
"Both of us?" Ron asked pointing between himself and Hermione.
"Well, it'll have to wait," Hermione said as she swung her legs over the bench, "Because class starts in just a few minutes."
She grabbed her bag and flounced off.
Ron watched her leave the Great Hall. "Seriously, what are you even talking to her for?"
Harry just shook his head. "Come on, we don't want to be late."
It was official; Harry was back in his first year at Hogwarts. Halloween to be more precise. He could feel the buzz of excitement as the students rushed to their first class and anticipated the feast that would be held once the school day was over.
Everything was exactly as he remembered it. The first class of the day was Charms. Ron got paired with Hermione and he watched as Ron mispronounced the charm and Hermione corrected him. Harry performed his charm perfectly—having mastered it three years earlier—earning Gryffindor ten points on top of the ones Hermione had already earned.
They were walking out of Charms when Ron started in on Hermione, "She's a nightmare honestly."
Hermione pushed by them, crying, and Harry felt his heart drop. Had they really been so mean to her? He felt anger and embarrassment take root in his chest.
"Stop being such a prat, Ron," he hissed.
"What?" Ron said, a confused look on his face.
Harry ignored him and raced after Hermione.
"Hermione!"
She kept running.
"Hermione, wait!" He finally caught up to her and snagged her robe with his fingers. "Hold up!"
She turned around. "What do you want?"
"I wanted to say sorry. For Ron and for me," he said between gasps.
She wiped the tears from her eyes. "You said last night that we'd always be friends Harry. But I don't see how we can be friends while your friends with someone who hates me."
"He doesn't hate you, he's just annoyed that's all. He'll come around. Trust me." He smiled at her.
"If you say so."
"Look, why don't you sit with us at the feast?"
She sniffed, the gratitude evident in her voice. "I'd like that."
And that was when things began to change. Hermione partnered herself with Harry in the rest of their classes that day. She was a little subdued, but she still offered to help him with his spells to show her appreciation for his kindness. Ron watched on, looking miffed at Harry's new friendship with Hermione.
Harry walked out of his last class, Hermione right beside him. He motioned toward the staircase. "Hey, I'm going to drop my stuff back at the common room. I'll meet you at the feast."
"I'll go with you," she said. "I don't really want to lug these things around the rest of the night." She gestured at her overflowing bag and Harry nodded his in understanding.
Ron was sitting on his bed when Harry finally got up to their room.
"I am so glad classes are over," he said as he walked over to toss his bag on his bed. "I've been looking forward to the feast all day. And I need to talk to you and Hermione about some… thing…" he trailed off at the look on Ron's face. "Is something wrong?"
"Is something wrong? You mean, besides my best friend taking sides against me and going off with that know-it-all?" He crossed his arms. "What could possibly be wrong?"
"Look, I'm sorry, alright. But I think you need to give Hermione a chance."
Ron scoffed. "Why, so I can spend even more of my time being corrected and criticized by her? No thanks."
"She's just trying to help."
Ron stood and walked towards the door, bumping against Harry on his way.
Harry grabbed Ron's arm. "Come on, Ron. Don't be like that. We can all be friends."
"Did you even think about the fact that she probably only wants to be your friend because you're the famous Harry Potter?"
Harry dropped his hand and clenched his teeth. The rational side of him told him that it was natural for Ron to react this way; he didn't know Hermione yet. But the irrational side of him got the upper hand and lashed out. "As opposed to the reason you became my friend, right? I don't think it was a coincidence that you chose to sit with me on the train after finding out who I was."
Ron's nostrils flared and he opened his mouth to argue. But then he thought better of it and closed it again.
Harry's face dropped. "Ron, I'm sorry. I didn't mean it."
Ron just shook his head before turning to leave the room, slamming the door behind him.
Harry watched the boy who was supposed to be his best friend leave, unsure of what to do. He let out a deep breath.
"Damn."
He headed for the feast, his excitement greatly diminished.
