Harry woke as from a deep sleep. The first thing he noticed was that something hard, like a table or a counter, was pressing into his backside, and something soft was leaning on him. And touching his lips.

His eyes fluttered open to find a girl pressed up to him, kissing him passionately.

"Wha!"" The girl in question jumped backwards, only to trip and stagger to the floor as Harry's hand caught on something.

It was Hermione, looking terrified, "Who? What?" She turned and ran, only to discover that the door was locked.

As she alohomared the door open, Harry called out after her, "what happened?"

He looked around. He was in a bathroom – a boys bathroom – and he had no memory of how he had gotten there. The last thing he recalled was packing to go to Kings Cross station to take the Hogwarts Express for his fourth year.

And last he saw Hermione, she had been arguing with Ron about something trivial, at the Burrow. Also that same night.

Harry tentatively poked his head out – he was in the bathroom at Platform 9 and ¾. He staggered out into the press of students and parents. His head was pounding like somebody was driving a wedge into it.

'I need to go find Hermione, tell her that it's not my fault. I bet Draco Imperio'ed me!' Except There was no way that a rising Fourth Year would know that spell. So who else could have done it. And why?

'Maybe I accidentally set off one of Fred & George's prank items?' But they didn't have anything like this – the two troublemakers had been bragging none stop about their creations over summer break, and a love potion wasn't one of their offerings. 'Was it a love potion?'

Harry spotted Hermione getting onto the train and pushed his way through the crowd, following her to the back compartment. He wasn't certain what he was going to say, but he had to make this right.

But he didn't get to say anything – the moment he entered the compartment, She whirled around, hissing "Stay back!" Her wand was out, aimed at him. She was practically vibrating with rage.

"Hermione, it wasn't me!" He raised his hands.

"I woke up in a boys bathroom, with the door locked, doing who knows what!"

"I have no idea what happened!" Harry paused, before adding, "Besides, you were the one who was kissing me!"

"Your hand was under my SHIRT!" Her voice rose, eliciting a curious glance from a passing sixth year. Seeing him, she hissed "Shh!" urgently. The last thing she needed was rumors that she was some sort of scarlet woman.

"Somebody must have potioned me! I don't remember anything from this morning." Harry protested desperately. He would never do anything like that to Hermione! She was his best friend!

Hermione slowly lowered her wand. "I don't remember anything since last night either. We need to figure out who did this." She turned away so Harry wouldn't see her blush. It was embarrassing. What made it worse was that in the moment before she opened her eyes, she had been enjoying it. A lot.

"Do you remember anything weird that you ate last evening?"

"It doesn't have to be last night. We could have been hit with a curse when we entered platform 9 ¾ - part of the spell's effect could have been to blot out our memories."

Harry gave a relieved sigh as he nodded. Hermione believed him. He wasn't certain what he would have done if she hadn't.

"We'll figure out who's responsible and we'll hex them back!"

Hermione nodded, still not looking at Harry. "Yeah. Uhm. Let's not tell anybody about what happened. Not even Ron"

Harry nodded. "Especially not Ron."

\*DLW*DLW*/

Lord Voldemort looked around at the press of children – students – and their parents. 'So I am a fourth year again.' It was frustrating, but it was something he knew how to deal with. After all, he had risen to power once before as 'Ronald Weasley', so he could do it again. Except this time, he would have a head start. He glanced over at Lavender Brown, chattering away with Parvati. He would definitely need that one for cover and, ahh.. 'other' activities. He felt himself blush involuntarily. 'Stupid teenage hormones.' He took a deep breath to focus his mind. 'All I have to do is dispose of the other Voldemort before he can incorporate. And that will have the side benefit of fulfilling the prophecy and opening doors in the Ministry for me.' A smile spread across his face as he plotted, never noticing that there was no tell-tale lightning bolt scar on his forehead.