Disclaimer: Still don't own Harry Potter.

"Like I Lived My Life Again"

Chapter 3

Walking through the front door of Hogwarts was nearly overwhelming for Hermione. After everything she had been through, it was wonderful to see that the school she loved so much was almost exactly as she had left it. Hogwarts was one part of her wizarding life that wasn't in shambles.

Hermione turned to Harry to see his reaction. He seemed to be deep in thought. She placed a gentle hand on his shoulder. "Well, Harry?"

"It…it's like I'm trying to remember something…and I almost do…and then it slips away," Harry said with a sigh. "Well, at any rate, it does feel…familiar. So that's something, right?"

Hermione felt her heart leap just a little. "Yes, that's something," she said, trying not to get her hopes up but not succeeding. "Well, shall I take you on a tour?"

Harry smiled. "Yes, I'd like that."

Hermione led him into the Great Hall, pointing out the bewitched ceiling. Harry had the strangest feeling as Hermione was talking about the ceiling…it was almost as if he had heard her say all this before…only not this Hermione, but rather a much shorter, much younger Hermione. But almost as soon as he tried to concentrate on what exactly he was thinking, the feeling was gone.

Professor McGonagall had obviously been true to her word, because there was a pile of food and other provisions in one corner. It looked like enough to feed them for almost a month.

They continued on their tour, going through some classrooms, the library, and finally heading up to the Gryffindor common room. One of the staircases decided to move while they were on it, succeeding in scaring Harry half to death while Hermione laughed. Harry also stared with wonder at the moving paintings, reminding Hermione what it was like to see Hogwarts through fresh eyes. She'd almost forgotten how unique it was.

The Fat Lady was dozing when they arrived at the portrait hole, and she didn't look too happy to see them.

"What are you doing here? School isn't in session, students aren't supposed to be here."

"Well, we have permission to be here for awhile. Harry is recovering from his battle with Voldemort. So if you don't mind, we'd like to get in the common room. Okay?" Hermione said, her voice very business-like.

The Fat Lady obediently swung open. She was too tired to argue with Hermione Granger right now. "Students in July…what is this world coming to?" she muttered as she dozed off again.

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The common room was dark. Hermione flicked her wand at the fireplace and a roaring fire started up. Harry looked around, taking in the plush chairs and welcoming atmosphere. He had that same look on his face again, the one he'd had when they first came through the front door. Hermione hoped that was a good sign.

"So, here we are. The Gryffindor common room. We spent many, many hours here," Hermione said fondly, setting down the bags she was carrying and sitting in one of the plush chairs by the fire. Harry followed suit, sitting in the chair across from her.

"Gryffindor…what does that mean?" Harry asked. Hermione proceeded to explain the House system, and what each House stood for. Harry seemed pleased that their House was the one characterized by bravery and courage.

"Well, Harry, do you want me to read a bit more? I brought my books," Hermione offered. She wanted to distract him from asking about Hogwarts, feeling that he'd had enough to take in for one day.

"Sure, I guess," Harry responded. Hermione pulled a book out of one of the bags by her feet, opened to where they left off, and began reading.

After awhile, Harry's eyelids began to droop. Hermione noticed, and placing the bookmark in, shut the book and stood up. "C'mon, Harry, I see you're tired. Let's grab these bags and head up to bed." Harry readily obeyed.

Hermione led the way up to the room Harry had shared with the other boys in his year. Once again she lit the previously darkened room with a flick of her wand. "This was your room, Harry, you and the other guys in our year," she said, setting the bags down on one of the beds. "That was your bed, if you want to sleep in it," she added, motioning to one of the four posters.

Harry sat on the bed and looked around. Hermione perched herself on one of the other beds, trying not the think about the fact that one of the students who had slept in here so many years was now dead, and another was still in St. Mungo's. "I hope you don't mind if I sleep in here. I thought it'd be good in case you need something in the middle of the night," she said. Harry just nodded in consent. "Anyway, I'll go to another room to change. I'll knock before I come back in, okay? Your pajamas are in that bag over there." With a gesture at the mentioned bag, Hermione swept out of the room, carrying her own pajamas.

Harry couldn't help but marvel about how Hermione always seemed to be in control. He wondered if she had always taken care of him, which would explain why she was so good at it. I wish I could remember, Harry thought. For the first time, he felt a genuine longing for the memories he'd lost. Sighing, he walked over to the bag Hermione had indicated, found some pajamas, and changed.

Hermione's knock came shortly after Harry had returned to his bed and crawled under the covers. "Yeah, Hermione, you can come in," he called. The door opened and Hermione entered. Harry was startled to see how exhausted she looked. Why hadn't he noticed before?

"Good-night, Harry," she said as she climbed into one of the unoccupied beds. "If you need anything, don't hesitate to wake me up, all right?"

"Yeah, okay. 'Night, Hermione," Harry responded.

Hermione flicked her wand one more time, and the room was dark once more. With the dark covering her, she turned her face into her pillow and quietly, silently, she cried the tears that she had been unable to shed at the funeral. It was so hard to feel all this sadness and not be able to share it with anyone. Harry was the one person she wanted the most to be able to talk to, to share memories of their friends, to find comfort in shared grief…and he was the person from which she had to hide the very feelings she most wanted to share. And then, of course, there was the added fear that was constantly lurking in the back of her mind…what if his memory never returns?

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The morning sun had been shining in the windows for a long time, but Hermione was still sound asleep. Harry had been awake for about an hour. His stomach was growling, but he wasn't sure if he should venture out on his own in search of food--the moving staircases were still fresh in his mind. Hermione had said that he could wake her if he needed anything, but he couldn't do it. She looked so peaceful, and he couldn't help but remember how exhausted she had appeared last night. She probably needed to sleep.

Harry wasn't sure why, but he found himself climbing out of bed, putting on his glasses, and crossing the room to where Hermione was sleeping. Sitting on the floor by the head of her bed, he curiously studied her face. Who was this girl? What had they shared in the past? What had they gone through together? They must have been very close to justify her taking care of him like this. And he couldn't put his finger on it, but there seemed to be something that was bothering her, something that was making her sad. What losses had she suffered? And if there were losses that she had suffered, what losses had he suffered?

He wanted to remember. He wanted so desperately to remember. He needed to remember. He needed to know who he was.

Harry leaned a little closer, staring intently at Hermione's face. He had the strange feeling that if he could understand just who she was and who she had been, he would be a little closer to discovering who he was. He tried to remember the face of that much shorter, much younger Hermione he had seen for a brief moment yesterday in the Great Hall. Just when he thought he had it, the Hermione in front of him opened her eyes and bolted out of bed with a little yelp, startling him.

"Oh my—oh, Harry, it's just you. You frightened me," Hermione said, her voice slightly higher than usual. She was breathing hard.

"Sorry, Hermione. I didn't want to wake you. I thought maybe you needed sleep more than I needed food."

"No, it's okay. I guess I'm just used to constantly being on guard, from the past year and the whole sear—from…ah, oh, never mind," Hermione finished lamely. She really didn't want to talk about the search for the Horcruxes…not before breakfast, at any rate. "What were you doing sitting there, anyway?" she asked, hoping to divert his attention from her unfinished sentence.

"Just watching you," Harry said with a shrug. "Anyway, now that you're up, I'm really hungry. But I didn't want to try to find food on my own, not with those bloody staircases swinging around as they please."

Hermione smiled. "All right. I'll go get dressed, and then I'll help you brave the staircases."

"Are you mocking me, Hermione?" Harry asked playfully, raising his eyebrows.

"No, of course not," she replied, in a voice that clearly meant the opposite. He looks so adorable with his hair sticking up all over the place like that…it's even messier than usual, she thought. Then another voice in her head immediately replied, Where did that come from? You got over Harry two years ago. Don't go down that road again, Hermione...it will only lead to disappointment. You know you're not the kind of girl he'd fancy. To keep Harry from seeing the blush that was surely creeping up her face, Hermione quickly pulled some clothes out one of the bags and left to go change.

They made it to the Great Hall without any major incidents. The ceiling showed what a lovely day it was outside. Hermione decided that they should definitely take a tour of the grounds after breakfast.

"This is the Gryffindor table," Hermione explained, taking a seat at the front of one of the four long tables and setting her breakfast down in front of her. "Wow. It feels weird to be the only two people in here," she remarked off-handedly as she took a sip of juice.

Harry sat across from her. He looked around the room as he ate his toast, trying to imagine the tables filled with laughing, talking students. He could almost hear their voices echoing throughout the cavernous hall. He could almost see…a stool, at the front, with older people behind it…people in funny, pointed hats. He could almost see that much shorter, much younger Hermione sitting on the stool, putting something on her head…

Hermione noticed the strange look on his face. "Harry? What is it?" she asked, concerned.

"I…I think I may remember something…" Harry began.

Hermione looked at him excitedly. "Well, go on. Tell me about it!"

"Well, I thought I saw a stool. And…and there were people behind it, older people, with funny hats on. And then you…well, not you, but a younger version of you…you sat on the stool and put something on your head and…and that's all." He looked at her questioningly.

"Oh Harry, I'm so glad. You remembered something from our days here at Hogwarts. You remembered our Sorting ceremony!" Hermione said, hardly able to contain her excitement. "When new students are brought to Hogwarts, they have to be Sorted into their Houses. All the First Years are brought to the front to sit on a stool, and they put on the Sorting Hat, and the Hat decides what House they should be in."

"So…so this is good, right? I remembered something, sort of."

"Yes, Harry, that's very good." Hermione smiled, her eyes were shining with happiness and…was that relief?

They finished breakfast in companionable silence. When they were done, Hermione suggested that they take a walk around the grounds. They made their way to Hagrid's hut and the edge of the Forbidden Forest, to the greenhouses, and finally to the lake. They sat in the grass near the lake's edge and enjoyed the light breeze that played across their faces and through their hair.

"Tell me, Hermione, how did we meet?" Harry asked, playing with a blade of grass that he had plucked from the ground.

Hermione clasped her arms around her knees and looked up at the clouds. "Well, let's see. We first met on the train to Hogwarts. I was helping Neville look for his toad." She paused and chuckled at the memory. Soon, however, the happy memory was tinged with the sobering knowledge that Neville was no longer living. She pushed that thought away and continued her story. "Anyway, I came into the compartment that you and Ron were in, and I started bossing you around. I was always good at that," she added with a wry smile, turning her gaze to Harry, who laughed softly. "I told you all about Hogwarts, because of course I'd read all about it. I read about everything. I'd even read about you, so of course--"

"Wait, wait. You'd read about me?" Harry interrupted.

"Yes. You, Harry Potter, are quite famous. You're the Boy Who Lived." Hermione sighed, trying to decide how much she should say about Voldemort. "See, there was this evil wizard named Voldemort. Remember I said that's the one you fought before you lost your memory?"

Harry nodded. Hermione continued, "Well, he was evil. Terrible. And he came to your house when you were only a baby, and tried to use the Killing Curse on you. He killed both of your parents, but you survived, and somehow, Voldemort lost his powers. You're the only person to ever survive the Killing Curse, Harry. But years later, Voldemort came back, and that's why you had to finish him off once and for all. Which brings us to now. But you've always been famous in the Wizarding world."

Harry tried to digest all of the information that Hermione had just given him. "O..okay. Okay. All right, so back to the other story you were telling me."

"So, of course I was excited to meet you. But we weren't really friends yet. You and Ron—Ron mainly, but you, too—thought I was an annoying know-it-all. Which I guess I was." She laughed again and returned her gaze skyward.

"So how did we become friends?" Harry prompted when she didn't continue.

"Well, later that year, I was in the bathroom crying because I overheard Ron saying something mean about me. It was Halloween. A troll got loose in the castle…well, it was set loose in the castle, but no matter, a troll was loose. You saw that it was headed toward the bathroom I was in, and you remembered that I was in there, so you and Ron came to my rescue. We managed to take the troll down, which was a pretty impressive feat for three First Years. And then when the teachers came, I took the blame. I figured I owed it to you. And after that, the three of us were friends, and over time, we became the best of friends. We did almost everything together. I used to think that the three of us could do anything." Hermione looked at Harry. He was staring at the ground, pulling up more blades of grass.

"So Ron and I never regretted saving you from that troll?" Harry asked with a teasing grin, raising his gaze to meet hers.

Hermione gave him a playful shove. "I don't know if you did or not. Most of the time, no, I don't think you did. I know I helped you on your homework a lot, so I'm sure you guys didn't mind that. And we did have a lot of fun times together." She had a dreamy look in her eyes. Her mind was somewhere in the past, living for a moment in happier days. Harry wished he could join her. But there was no past for him, just the present. And he couldn't shake the feeling that there was something terribly wrong with the present, something that had disrupted their happy lives. Maybe it has something to do with this Voldemort fellow, Harry thought. But…didn't Hermione say that we won?

"Tell me more, Hermione. Tell me about the good times we had together, you and me and Ron."

Hermione looked startled for a second when he spoke, like she'd forgotten where she was. But she recovered quickly and smiled at him. "All right. Let's see..."

The hours passed as swiftly as the clouds tumbling playfully overhead, and soon the noon sun was beating down on them. Hermione told Harry story after story of fun times at Hogwarts, enjoying reliving the memories of when life wasn't quite so complicated. Harry, however, was troubled. While he was enjoying the stories, he was growing more and more frustrated with his inability to remember the people and events Hermione described.

Hermione had started to notice that as she talked, Harry grew quieter and more introspective. Not wanting to upset him, she decided to suggest that they head back up to the castle for lunch. Just before the words left her mouth, however, Harry asked one of the questions that Hermione had been hoping to avoid for as long as possible.

"Hermione…when I was here…did I have…a girlfriend?" Harry asked the question hesitantly, almost as if he were embarrassed.

The smile froze on Hermione's face. The girlfriend question. Oh, great. She had successfully avoided having to tell Harry that any of their friends were dead. But if she told Harry about Ginny…he'd certainly ask why someone as close to him as a girlfriend hadn't visited him, or offered to help take care of him. And then she'd have to tell him that the girlfriend he didn't remember was dead. And then he'd probably ask how she'd died. And who knows where that would go…

"Yes." Hermione stood up abruptly. "C'mon, Harry, I'm hungry, and it's getting hot. Let's go eat lunch."

Harry could sense her suddenly cold attitude, and her noticed that her answer was uncharacteristically curt. That made him curious. So he'd had a girlfriend…but Hermione didn't want to talk about it. What was the story there?

Hermione was now walking briskly away from him. For the time being, he decided to let it drop.