A/N I own nothing related to Harry Potter or the Harry Potter universe. Those rights go to J.K. Rowling, WB, and others. For information on where the idea for this story came from, please see the note on the first chapter. Onwards!

Harry lifted his head from the pensive, running a hand over his face. He'd just watched his battle with an enormous snake - something called a basilisk - from his own point of view and still couldn't believe a scrawny, undernourished twelve year old like he'd been, had killed it.

"Fuck."

"I'd scold you for your language but considering how bad it's gotten over the last couple of days, I doubt it would do any good." Hermione's voice floated over to him as she descended the dorm stairs.

Hermione. She was another mystery to him. She spent most of the past few days either in the common room with him and Ron trying to catch them both up in their studies or up in her dorm, but other than the time she made to tutor him in his lessons directly, she left him and Ron to their own devices. She was so excited to talk to him, to see how he was doing and what he thought of everything but whenever she tried to join in with Ron, the boy would suddenly decide to go flying (which Harry turned out to still love and she loathed) or take Harry on a tour of one of the places where they had an adventure (like an empty corridor on the third floor) and Hermione would bow out and say Harry needed time just with Ron as well as her. The one problem with that was Harry was finding Ron didn't really have many good things to say about the academically inclined witch when she wasn't with them. He didn't have much to say when she was with them either.

Harry found he liked spending time with the brunette. He'd always liked school but with Dudley around he'd had to dumb himself down. Purposely failing tests was a lot harder than it sounded. Hermione was enthusiastic to the point where Harry had to have her tone things down a bit during her remedial lessons. Her reaction to him asking told him more than he ever wanted to know about why she avoided him and Ron together.

"Hermione! Slow down! Remember, I have no idea what Transfiguration is."

To his surprise, the once confident witch immediately put her head down, a blush creeping up her neck to her cheeks. She glanced around the common room furtively before answering.

"I'm sorry, Harry, I get too excited when it comes to books and learning. If I get to be too much, please just tell me, okay? I have most of the earlier years lessons in pensieve memories already and I can do the same for these. We'd only have to meet for the practical applications then and you and Ron can have more time to…"

Gripping her chin gently, he tilted her head up until he could look into her cinnamon colored eyes. The way she darted them right and left before meeting his eyes told him more about how he and Ron treated her than he ever wanted to remember. He decided right then he was fixing things.

"Hermione, never and I mean never apologise for who you are. You love learning and you love teaching people what you know, I can see that already. I'm still trying to take everything in. And I admit I didn't have time to really concentrate on those first lessons you gave me. I was distra…"

"It's okay, Harry! I shouldn't expect you to be looking at those memories every night. Before, I mean before you lost your memories, you caught on to things so quickly. I think I just expected you to do the same thing."

Harry sat back on the couch. He didn't like the picture he was building in his head of the last two years. Deciding to go for it, he voiced his thoughts.

"So, from what I can tell right now, I'm a jock - youngest player on the Quidditch team in, what, a century? I pick up things in class quickly but don't care about homework or theory and am probably only passing because you make sure I have my assignments done on time. I slack off at night by playing games or visiting with a Dragon loving gameskeeper and I don't defend the person who calls me a best friend."

Eyes widening, Hermione let out a little gasp. "Harry, no! You do love Quidditch and as much as I hate the infernal game it's because of the death defying stunts you seem to pull off with ease rather than hating the game itself. And you have to practice to get better at it. And yes, I nag you and Ron about your homework but you have to have an EE average to play Quidditch and I know Ron would still be in first year if I didn't help! And you have always been there for me!"

He noticed she didn't say he defended her, just that he was there for her.

"Hey, it could always be worse." Harry replied, pulling himself back into the present.

"Worse? How could your language possibly get worse?" Hermione asked, dropping to the couch beside him close enough that their thighs and shoulders bumped. He was finding he didn't mind when she forgot herself and treated him as if he was the same Harry she knew when it came to physical affection.

And he liked knowing she wasn't so affectionate with one Ron Weasley.

"I could always talk back to a professor."

She snorted. "I would both love to see you say that to Professor Snape and fear the consequences."

"What is up with Snape anyway?

When Dumbledore, who reminded Harry of the wizard in the Hobbit, had found out about his memory loss he was strangely disturbed by it. He asked Harry all sorts of questions about what he remembered about living with his aunt and uncle - which he did unfortunately remember - but he didn't remember the Weasley's supposedly rescuing him with a flying car (though Ron did show him a memory about it but Hermione snorted and told Harry that Ron actually crashed the car into a tree and it was roaming wild somewhere in the forest outside the school.) But apparently Harry had shared some memories with the Headmaster and the old wizard thought it was wise to share them with Harry. Hence having the memory from his own point of view of watching himself kill a 60 foot long snake.

But Dumbledore didn't meet with him alone. Harry wanted Hermione with him simply because he felt comfortable with her and Dumbledore apparently wanted Snape, a tall, thin hook-nosed man with greasy black hair and loose black robes.

At first the man sneered at Harry and when he looked over at Snape he felt a funny pressure in his head that he needed to shake off. The man narrowed his eyes slightly then sat back to listen to what happened when Harry fell. Hermione seemed surprised when the potion master volunteered to help her catch Harry up with his potion lessons and offered up the dungeons for the two of them in the evenings. Hermione was planning on taking them down this evening for the first time.

"Honestly? I don't know. Professor Snape has it in for anyone that isn't a member of his House of Snakes. You, in particular, have always been a favorite for him to pick on. It's been so bad that Neville Longbottom, who's also in our year, has a bogart change into Snape as his worst fear." She shook her bushy head. "That he offered to help catch you up in potions is more than surprising."

"Well, I guess I'll have to be on my best behaviour then."

Hermione snorted. "Even without remembering anything, I'll believe that when I see it, Potter." She tilted her head towards the pensieve. "What were you looking at?"

"Second year. Apparently, there was a big arse snake roaming around under the castle and I got it in my head to take Ron and a pretty boy Professor with me to try and kill it. Where were you in this memory, anyway? I didn't see you at all."

Hermione frowned. "I actually have some memories for you from that time. I was petrified by the basilisk right before the last Quidditch game with Ravenclaw. I had just realized what Slytherin's monster was and ran to the library but never made it back. I still had the paper in my hand." She drew a deep breath. "You visited me everyday in the infirmary even though Madam Pomfrey and Professor Snape told you petrified people couldn't hear or sense anything around them. I copied the memories of you talking to me everyday for almost a month."

Harry just stared at her. "Wait. You were conscious for that whole time?"

She nodded. "For 23 days I couldn't talk, move, blink, nothing. You came everyday, sometimes twice a day, just to talk to me and fill me in on what was happening in the castle. You told me secrets that I will never tell another living soul. And I want you to have those memories back." She rolled the bottle of milky liquid in her hands before handing it over.

Harry looked down at the vial in his hands. This would be his own thoughts, his own feelings about whatever it was he talked to Hermione about.

"I can't imagine what I would have said. Everything is still so strange to me. I mean, this is a school. Having magic shouldn't make it that much different should it? We have stairs that move leaving a huge drop, ghosts that drop things on you from balconies, hide valuable objects from homicidal madmen behind games and have giant deadly snakes roaming around. What else is this place hiding?"

Hermione ducked her head. "An escaped mass murderer."

Harry's eyes widened as he spun to face her. "WHAT?!"

"An escaped mass murderer. He escaped this summer and was heard mumbling 'He's at Hogwarts.' He's also your Godfather."

Harry leaned back against the couch and closed his eyes. Seriously? He was ready to leave. Not go back to the Dursleys but there had to be a saner place than this.

"Is it always like this?"

"Has been since I met you."

"So you're telling me it's my fault."

He could feel her shrug. "It's not your fault. It's the people who are after you and the people who fail to protect you who are at fault. Look at your broom. How did something cursed like that even get through the wards here?"

"Wards?"

"Sort of like security spells. They keep wizards and witches from suddenly appearing in the castle and are supposed to protect us from dark magic. Obviously there are flaws with that system considering we've had Voldemort teaching, a possessed diary and an overgrown deadly snake all running around the school."

"Anything else i should know about?" Harry let his head roll towards Hermione but didn't open his eyes.

"I don't really know. Odd and dangerous are so normal to me now, I wouldn't know what stands out." She sighed. "It's still really early, do you want to get breakfast now or do something else?"

That got Harry moving. "Ron and I have been all over the castle. Without you, mind you." Hermione had the grace to blush but Harry kept talking. "I want to explore outside. The Weasley twins have apparently been letting me borrow their brooms so we can even go flying before breakfast."

Hermione had started walking towards the portrait hole with Harry but stopped at that.

"Oh, no, Harry, I do not fly. Not for practice, not for fun. This witch is strictly a ground witch."

"Come on Hermione. I'm even willing to get back up in the air once I'm sure the broom I'm on isn't going to try and kill me."

"No."

"Please?"

"Absolutely not."

"Pretty please?"

"I'm not changing my mind."

"What if I say it's your Christmas present to me since I can't remember you giving me one?"

"Harry James Potter!"

"Sooooo, that's not a no."

"Ugh!"

Their bickering continued until they reached the main entrance and the sight of lightly falling snow. The grounds were covered in a thick layer of the white fluff with the remnants of yesterday's epic snowball battle quickly becoming a distant memory. It's only proof of existence being the tall pillars and walls making up the forts. They made the loop down by the Black Lake, Hermione pointing out the rocky outcropping that was their favorite thinking spot when the trees were bare and the ground snow covered. From there, the two moved along the path Hagrid must have plowed to the Quidditch pitch.

Hermione watched as Harry pulled out a broom from the lockers and checked it over carefully before nodding to himself. She was just about to climb up to the stands when he stopped her.

"Come up with me?"

"Harry…"

He gripped her forearm.

"Please? You've let Ron spend so much free time with me and that's great and all but I want to spend some time with you that doesn't involve the library or studying. We did just hang out, didn't we?"

"Yeah, I mean, yes, we did but I'm not exactly fun -"

"Stop right there, Hermione." Harry leaned against his borrowed broom. "I keep getting a fucked up picture in my head of how Ron and I treated your friendship and I don't like myself for it. I get why I might have blindly followed Ron around and chose his side in things but not anymore. I don't remember that Harry. I made a promise to myself when I first got my letter to change. I was going to be a wizard. I had powers. I could be someone who meant something and not the freak nobody the Dursleys always told me I was."

He took a deep breath.

"So, come fly with me. Please. Let me start to make things up with you as far as our friendship goes. Let me know about the real Hermione and I will try my best to let you know the real Harry - though you seem to have a pretty good read on me already."

Hermione tilted her head and really looked at Harry for a moment. It felt like she could read his mind, no, read his very soul, before nodding.

"Alright, but none of your death defying stunts or it's over. Agreed?"

He chuckled. "Agreed. But you and I might have a very different idea of what's considered a death defying stunt."

Hermione carefully mounted the hovering broom and was surprised when instead of sitting in front of her like she expected, Harry moved behind her essentially giving her control of the broom if she wanted it.

"Harry, I'm not sure about this…"

"Don't worry, I'll still steer but this way you have some control. Just don't pull against me too much if you don't like the direction we're going in without telling me first. This is Fred's broom and it's a bit touchy."

"Wonderful," he heard the witch in front of him mutter before she took a deep breath. "I'm ready when you are."

Harry made sure to stay below the quidditch goals until he felt Hermione relax a bit. As soon as the broom took off, she'd gone completely ridgid, her hands gripping the broom so tightly Harry had trouble steering at first.

"You doing okay?"

"S-s-sure."

"Hermione. It really does help if you open your eyes."

"I'll also be able to see how far I'll fall if I open them."

"I'm not going to let you fall. You didn't let me fall - even if I don't remember it. I want to go a bit higher and take you over the lake but I need to know if you're okay first."

A sharp inhale and Hermione backing up as close to Harry as she could signaled she did indeed open her eyes as requested.

"Now, take a deep breath and focus on looking out in front of us rather than down on the ground. Feel the wind hitting your face, the shift of the broom. You're in control, you're the one flying, controlling the magic. Enjoy it." Harry murmured in her ear as she tried to focus on anything other than the fact she was meters in the air on little more than a glorified magical stick. Gradually, she relaxed and let Harry guide them over the goal posts and out towards the Black Lake.

The early morning sun was trying to break through the snow clouds turning the sky shades of pink, purple and deep mauve.

"Wow."

Harry chuckled. "See, you would have missed this if you'd have stayed sitting in the stands."

Despite how close together they were on the broom, Harry felt Hermione's shiver and banked to the right bringing them over to the top of the astronomy tower to land. Hopping off, Hermione shook out her arms and legs a moment before taking a deep breath.

"So?"

She smiled at Harry. "Okay, that was wonderful. I don't know if I could fly just by myself but I wouldn't mind doing that again."

"Why don't you like to fly? Is it just because of heights?"

They started to make their way down to the dorm where Harry could drop off the broom before breakfast.

"I never really liked heights. My Mum and Dad never took me to amusement parks or fairs where I could go on ferris wheels or roller coasters when I was younger and so the thought of being in the air terrified me. When we got here first year, flying lessons were only for a few weeks, not even a whole term. Between Ron's teasing and my nerves, I never got past learning to fly just enough to pass for Madam Hooch."

"You never tried again? I never offered?"

Hermione shook her head. "No, and I would never have expected you to offer."

That stopped Harry short at the portrait hole, neither teen noticing the Fat Lady paying rapt attention to their conversation.

"What? Why wouldn't you have expected me to offer to help you out? It's clear you've been helping me and Ron all along."

"Yes, but that's what I do. I'm the researcher, the brainy bookworm. You and Ron always had other things to worry about and trust me, flying was not high on my list of priorities at the time."

"Still…"

"There you are, Harry! What, did you go flying without me? You could have woke me for that, mate. Had to be boring up there with just Herms there in the stands." Ron tumbled out of the portrait hole and stared wide eyed at the two.

"Ugh, Ronald, if you call me Herms one more time, I can promise you won't be sitting comfortably for the rest of break."

Harry frowned at Ron. "Actually, I took Hermione up with me. Did you know she hasn't flown at all since first year?" He asked as they made their way back to the boys dorm so Harry could store Fred's broom for the moment while Hermione headed to hers to drop off her cloak.

"Well, duh. Hermione can't fly to save her life. Even Neville is better at it than she is and that's saying something since he broke his wrist the first lesson." Ron laughed out.

"I don't find it all that funny, Ron. We could have taught her how."

Ron snorted and scooped up his still dozing rat. "Maybe, but what's the point? She hates quidditch. I think she only comes to the practices and games to watch you. Besides, when would she get all her studying and library time in?"

Harry sighed. "The three of us could have just gone flying then. We went out over the lake and around to the astronomy tower. Flying doesn't always have to be Quidditch." He'd watched more than a few memories of Quidditch games that Ron shared with him. Those were more or less accurate memories - at least they matched up with what Hermione shared when he'd asked. But Ron also bragged that he taught Harry all about the moves he used and his strategies. And while the red head was great at chess, Harry wasn't so sure about his prowess anywhere else. His memories where the three of them were involved tended to focus heavily on him - his leading Harry to victory rather than the three of them working together like Hermione's memories showed. And Hermione almost always was just wringing her hands in the background in Ron's memories instead of solving the puzzles.

"What's better than Quidditch?!" Ron almost seemed offended at the very idea Harry would enjoy flying outside the game.

"How about breakfast?" Harry asked, trying to get the boy off the topic of Quidditch before he started to pester Harry to go and ask the professors about the progress on his broom.

"YES! To breakfast!"

Both Harry and Hermione followed their overexcited housemate out the portrait hole and into the nearly deserted Great Hall. To their surprise, Severus Snape left the Head Table and made his way to Harry as soon as he sat down.

"Mr Potter," the potion master drawled, "since you appear to have risen before lunch hour and I have the time, if not the inclination, would you like to begin your potions review after breakfast?"

Harry looked over at his friends. Ron was staring at the professor open mouthed (unfortunately, he'd also taken a large bite of eggs and sausage beforehand) while Hermione looked thoughtful.

"As long as Hermione is still invited."

Snape looked at the know-it-all muggle-born and frowned. Hermione met his eyes straight on. After a moment, he nodded.

"Of course. Mr Weasley, you are aware of your potions grade. Do as you like. Mr Potter, Miss Granger, I expect to see you shortly. Come prepared." With that, the dungeon bat swept out of the Hall, his robes billowing behind him.