I got a very positive response to the first chapter of this story, which was a welcome surprise. I was worried it would seem too "been-done". I wonder if anyone will figure out what's going on before Harry and Ginny do.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~
~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Harry stepped onto the train feeling lighter than a cloud. That had not been a memory, or a curse-construct, or whatever everyone else was; that had been Ginny. The real Ginny. His Ginny. Somehow, some way, she was stuck here just like he was. And while that meant he now had to worry about her as well as himself, it also meant that he was no longer alone. And of all the people he wanted to see, he got the one he wanted to see the most.

The train started to move, and he was forcibly brought back to the present – such as it was – again. He schooled his features and concentrated on getting his breathing and heartbeat under control, so people who saw him didn't think he was some kind of nutter. Or, he supposed, a panicky first-year who couldn't handle going away from home for the first time.

He quickly found the compartment where Ron was sitting alone and asked to join him. After about ten minutes, he was already thinking that had probably been a bad idea.

It wasn't as if he weren't pleased to see his best friend. In fact if he hadn't just met Ginny he probably would have been over the moon about it. No, the trouble was that he knew Ron inside and out and yet had to act like they were just meeting for the first time. He still didn't know enough about his predicament to know what would happen if anyone caught on to whatever it was, and he was not yet desperate enough to find out. Keeping up the act, making sure he didn't let anything slip that shouldn't, very quickly became exhausting.

Hermione and Neville stopped by; he had to be careful not to be too friendly with Hermione but at the same time couldn't bring himself to be cold or aloof toward her either. He settled on polite and pleasant, and hoped nobody would read too much into it.

Malfoy also made an appearance with Crabbe and Goyle, but Harry had years of practice dealing with him and by the time they left, Malfoy was looking very sulky indeed and Ron seemed to think he, Harry, was some kind of paragon of wit.

All this happened in something of a half-daze, because all he could really think about was getting to the castle and waiting for some time to himself so he could send a letter to Ginny.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The trip across the lake was uneventful, though he received another minor shock upon his first glimpse of the castle. The renovations after the battle had included a few additions here and there, and while only a couple of them were visible from the outside, they were still noticeable in their absence. When Hagrid led them up to the great oak front doors, Harry was careful to see if Professor McGonagall was acting any differently; the only problem was, he didn't remember her behavior from the first time clearly enough to be able to tell if anything was off.

Here, too, he was met with the rest of his old classmates. He'd already seen Neville on the train, but there were others he missed as well: Hannah, who had been preparing to marry Neville only a month

after he and Ginny were planning to tie the knot. Seamus and Dean, his dorm mates of seven years. Michael Corner, who had been tortured extensively by the Carrows and never really been the same since. And of course there was Lavender, his partner in the Aurors and the person he felt closest to outside of his fiancee and two best friends. She was talking away excitedly with Parvati Patil, not a true care in the world. This flighty and excitable young girl was so fundamentally different from the brave and confident woman he knew that it was almost impossible to believe she was the same person. And yet she was. Seeing her whole, without the scars Greyback had inflicted on her (physical and otherwise), tugged at his heart much like seeing Fred and Hedwig again had done. Beginning something of a list in his head, Harry decided that if he really did somehow end up living everything over, he would ensure she would not suffer that fate again.

He was interrupted in his reminiscence by the reappearance of McGonagall and the summoning of their group into the Great Hall. Being sorted again would be interesting, at least. Harry wondered if even after everything he'd been through, the hat would still consider putting him in Slytherin. He decided he didn't even want to know, and resolved to simply take matters into his own hands.

The moment the hat was placed on his head, it said, 'Hmm,' but Harry interrupted.

'Oh, don't even bother,' he thought at the hat. 'I'm a Gryffindor and you know it.'

There was a long pause, and then the hat said, 'Of course you are. I was just trying to work out how it is you've already been sorted, when I'm sure we've never met before.'

It took Harry a moment to realize what the hat was implying. He felt a spike of adrenaline, but forced himself to calm down. It made sense; the hat could see inside his head after all. But how much could it see?

'We have met,' thought Harry. 'Just not from your perspective.' This was new. Like Ginny, the hat was not behaving in the way it had before, but unlike Ginny, it still did not seem to recognize him.

'I don't suppose you could explain how that is possible?' the hat asked somewhat sardonically.

'I wish I could,' Harry thought. 'I'm just as flummoxed as you. I'm not even sure you or any of this is even real.'

'What else would I be?'

'A memory, a construct from a curse, a figment of my imagination, any number of things,' Harry rattled off.

'I assure you that I am none of those things,' replied the hat. 'Though I suppose even if I were, I would likely still say otherwise. However I remain confident I am quite real. I can tell you the names of every student who has ever passed through this school. Every student I have sorted and when that sorting took place. I have a consciousness as sure as you do, Mr Potter; I think that would be quite difficult to duplicate in a curse, and of course a figment of your imagination would not possess all of that information.'

'It would if the records I checked to verify it were all in my head too,' Harry countered, feeling paranoid just thinking it, but thinking it just the same.

'You are not to be swayed, I see. I can only tell you what I see from my perspective: a boy who has been sorted before but whom I have never met, who has memories of things that have not yet happened. If I did not know better, Mr Potter, I would suspect that you were from the future.'

'Come off it,' thought Harry, though a chill had rapidly rippled through his body. 'If I were from the future I'd be twenty-three years old.'

'Indeed?' replied the hat, intrigued. 'Perhaps an elaborate vision, then? Could you have experienced these future events in some kind of prophetic dream?'

'In one night?' Harry replied incredulously. 'And anyway, I'm no expert, but since when do prophetic visions include details like trips to the toilet or going to sleep at night? Was I going to sleep while already asleep?'

'A conundrum indeed,' conceded the hat. 'It would not explain your prior sorting, either. I would only say that in an unusual situation, when all impossible explanations have been eliminated, whatever remains – however improbable or implausible – must be the solution. You say you could not have dreamed over twelve years in your sleep, and I am inclined to agree with you. You suggested a memory, but this conversation we are having now eliminates that as a possibility, as I am assuming we have not had it before, correct?'

'That's right,' Harry affirmed, getting excited in spite of himself at the chance to have someone to bounce ideas off for once. He was also immensely relieved to know that someone agreed with him that his whole life hadn't just been a dream.

'That is two possibilities eliminated,' said the hat. 'You say you also considered we are all figments of your imagination?'

'It's a possibility, but I've never really considered it likely,' Harry thought.

'Let us not see if we can eliminate it as well, shall we?' said the hat. 'If I am truly a figment of your imagination, then on some level you will know what I am thinking without me having to tell you. I will now think of a word; concentrate as hard as you can on what you think that word is.'

This sounded very odd to Harry, but he followed the hat's instructions. He cleared his mind as best he could and tried to focus on what the hat was thinking. After about twenty seconds, he was coming up blank.

'No idea,' he finally thought.

'Then we can conclude that whatever I am, my origins are likely not within your subconscious,' declared the hat. 'Incidentally, the word was "badger".'

'Okay.' Still, Harry insisted they try a few more times to be certain. The results were consistent, even when the hat picked perfectly normal words like "chair", or outlandishly ridiculous ones like "circumbobulate", which Harry was pretty sure it had completely made up.

'Two possibilities remain that you have considered,' said the hat once Harry was satisfied. 'One, that you have been cursed in some way, either by a spell or an enchanted object?'

'That's right.'

'The other,' continued the hat, 'that you are somehow reliving the past.'

'But that's impossible,' Harry thought firmly. True, it was an idea that kept rattling around in his mind and wouldn't go away, but it just couldn't be the case.

'Is it?' asked the hat. 'You know this for certain? Are you an Unspeakable studying the nature of time in the life you come from?'

'Well, no…' Harry admitted. 'But –'

'Then you are not in a position to declare what is or is not possible, I should think,' declared the hat. 'May I remind you that ten years ago, surviving the killing curse had been assumed impossible for thousands of years, but the proof that it isn't is currently wearing me on his head.'

Harry had no response to that. For the first time since first thinking of it, he was giving the time travel idea serious consideration.

'I think it is more likely, Mr Potter, that you are not allowing yourself to consider the possibility because you do not want it to be possible. I cannot see specifics of course, but I can sense enough from you to know that you have had a difficult life. Few would want to repeat that.'

This made so much sense that suddenly Harry was terrified that the hat was right, and that he was actually reliving the past. And it was definitely right about that being very undesirable indeed.

'You don't think I've been cursed, then?' he asked. Had he been speaking aloud, he'd have been stammering.

'Well, we can't rule it out yet. And even if you have time-traveled, it could be as the result of a curse, couldn't it? What other types of curses could create the effects you have experienced?'

'I've been trying to think of that. A Confundus would have worn off by now, even if Merlin himself cast it. I thought my memory may have been modified, but not if you're seeing things like me already being sorted.'

'Yes, a Memory Charm would not be able to falsify that,' confirmed the hat.

'I've been thinking it's more likely that maybe I got trapped in some kind of cursed object, similar to the Mirror of Erised or something that can create some kind of alternate world. But instead of what I want, it shows what I don't want? Or what I've already experienced?'

'Such things could exist, but there would be limits to just how elaborate these false worlds could be. I would advise you to consider this if your stay here continues, as you encounter more and more people, places, and things. The number of details that would be needed to maintain such an illusory world would eventually become astronomical, and – as you mentioned earlier – impossible even for Merlin himself.'

'Leaving only one possible explanation,' Harry finished, a horrified seed of acceptance settling within him.

'Indeed,' agreed the hat. 'But we've sat here long enough. Everyone must be wondering what exactly it is we're talking about. Best of luck, Mr Potter. GRYFFINDOR!'

Harry jumped in his seat. He'd quite forgotten where he was and what he was supposed to be doing. Judging by the brief period of silence, so had everybody else in the hall. Quickly enough though, raucous cheers rang out from the far left table, just as they had the first time. As he approached the familiar long table, he could hear the Weasley twins chanting 'We got Potter! We got Potter!' and they scooted down to make room for him while Percy stood up to shake his hand.

'The first Hatstall in decades!' Nearly Headless Nick announced cheerfully from across the table as he reached across to greet Harry as well. 'And young Miss Granger and Mr Longbottom were up there for quite a while too! It's looking to be an interesting year for Gryffindor!'

When Ron came to join them, he was keen to find out what had taken so long with Harry's sorting.

'What was it talking about with you for so long?' he asked.

'Now Ron,' Percy admonished, 'A person's conversation with the Sorting Hat is their own business.'

'Well, I mean, you don't have to say if you don't want,' Ron assured him, 'but was it having trouble making up its mind?'

'You could say that,' Harry said, amused despite himself. 'I'm glad I ended up here, though. From everything I've head, Gryffindor house is the best.'

'Damn right it is,' George said proudly, slapping Harry on the back. 'Welcome aboard, Harry. Ron.'

'You'll love it,' said Fred. 'Guaranteed.'

The hall went silent as Dumbledore got to his feet. He beamed around at all of them, and Harry couldn't help but smile back. He truly had missed the old man's reassuring presence. If he really had gone back in time as the Sorting Hat suspected, he'd have to make sure things went better for the Headmaster this time around, too. He added that to his list.

'Welcome!' Dumbledore said happily. 'Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak!

'Thank you!'

He sat back down and Harry laughed heartily, a tear coming to his eye. There truly was no one else in the world like Dumbledore.

The feast was every bit as good as he remembered from Hogwarts, but afterward he was once again unceremoniously reminded just what, exactly, he was in for. Dumbledore's announcement about the third floor corridor reminded him of Fluffy, and the Philosopher's Stone, and Quirrell, who even now was sitting at the staff table sipping mulled wine with Voldemort's face hidden under his ridiculous turban while everyone else sang the school song under Dumbledore's conduction. His earlier conversation with the Sorting Hat and his new perspective on his situation had temporarily driven the other major events of his original first year out of us head.

He would worry about that, however, after he'd written to Ginny, and gotten her thoughts on the whole thing. He didn't want to tell her what he'd discussed and deduced with the hat until he heard what she'd managed to come up with on her own so far. In the meantime, he had to pretend he had no idea where he was going as he and the other first years followed Percy through the winding corridors and staircases up to the portrait of the Fat Lady outside Gryffindor Tower. Harry counted seven hidden passages they could have taken along the way to make the journey quicker, leaving him rather frustrated by the time they arrived and Percy gave them the password, Caput Draconis.

Harry's roommates fell asleep almost at once, making it easy for him to sneak back out of bed. He didn't want to write the letter in his dormitory however, in case one of them woke up. He waited until he was sure everyone else would be asleep and crept down to the common room where he sat at one of the tables, took out his parchment and quill, and composed a letter.

Dear Ginny,

Is it really you? If it isn't you're surely going to wonder what this is about, but I know it is. I saw what you said to me as I was getting on the train. I wanted to say it back but your Mum had turned around and that might have been a little awkward.

I love you.

There it is. I'll say it to your face a hundred times the next time I see you, I promise. I can't believe you're really here. I thought I was going to go mad! I've been stuck in – whatever this is – since late June! I was starting to worry I'd never see you or anyone else again!

Do you know how we got here? Were we sent here? Did we come together? On purpose? I can't remember anything. I remember going to sleep holding you and then waking up next morning in my old cupboard with Aunt Petunia banging on the door. I've thought of a number of things that might have happened but I want to hear what you've thought of in case you've come up with something I haven't.

Have you had any problems? Or noticed anyone else who isn't acting the same as they did before? So far you're the only other person I've met this is happening to. Ron and Hermione certainly didn't give any sign that they'd ever seen me before, nor did Hagrid. Not even Dumbledore! I'd hoped that if anyone could explain what was going on, he could, but no luck there I'm afraid.

I still can't believe you're really here. I mean, I'm worried now, because if this is some kind of curse I obviously don't want you mixed up in it, but I wasn't kidding before when I said I was afraid I was going to go mad. When I finally saw you, it was like that first great gulp of air when you think you're drowning. And that was before I even knew it was the real you.

I'm writing this in the middle of the night and I'm about to sneak off to the Owlery to send it to you. I can't wait to hear from you, and to see you again. Together we can figure this out, I know it.

I love you,

Harry

It was the fastest letter Harry had ever written. The words just came pouring out. There was so much more he wanted to say, but he needed to get the basics out of the way so they could start forming a plan. That, and he was so anxious to send the letter that he couldn't bear spending any more time on it.

He knew he was taking a risk, sneaking out in the middle of the night on the first night of term. His thoughts drifted to his invisibility cloak, wherever Dumbledore was keeping it, and the Marauders' Map, up in Fred and George's dorm. Still, he thought, as he crept stealthily out of the portrait hole, he knew the castle well enough and certainly had enough experience sneaking around that it shouldn't be a problem.

He was helped, he guessed, by the fact that nobody expected anyone to be sneaking around the castle this early in term. Mrs Norris was his only real threat; just about everyone else he'd be able to hear coming soon enough to find a place to hide.

To his great surprise, he was able to make it all the way to the Owlery without any trouble whatsoever – not even the sound of Peeves making chaos off in the distance. That made him slightly nervous; his luck was never that good. Still, it was with great excitement that he called Hedwig down to him and tied the letter to her leg.

'Take this to Ginny Weasley at the Burrow, okay?' he said. 'Take it straight to her room; don't let anyone else see you if you can help it. And do the same thing when you bring her reply; keep out of sight and only deliver it to me when no one else is around. Got it?'

She nipped lightly at his finger to show she understood and was off. Harry watched her go with that same sense of excitement. With any luck, Ginny would get his letter before going down to breakfast in the morning, which meant he might get her reply as early as that night.

A distant sound reminded him that he was most definitely out of bounds. Being underage and following school rules again was definitely going to take some getting used to. As quietly as he could, he descended the stairs leading out of the Owlery and peeked into the corridor beyond. Seeing nothing, he made a beeline for the corridor containing the Room of Requirement, reasoning that he would have an assured hiding place there if necessary.

It was a good thing he did, because as soon as he reached the tapestry of Barnabus the Barmy, Mrs Norris rounded the corner in front of him and turned her lamp-like eyes right on him.

Knowing he had only seconds, Harry quickly paced back and forth in front of the wall, thinking, I need a place to hide that Filch can't see. I need a place to hide that Filch can't see. I need a place to hide that Filch can't see.

A bare patch of wall opened up, just like the entrance to the Slytherin common room. Harry stepped into it not a moment too soon, for he could hear Filch's hurried footsteps even as the wall slid shut again. I need to be able to hear out into the corridor, Harry thought, remembering what Neville and Seamus had told him about the room so long ago now: 'You need to ask it for exactly what you want.'

As soon as he'd thought of this, a small, ornate vent appeared in the stone wall up near the ceiling, looking as though it had been carved hundreds of years ago.

'Where are they, my sweet?' Filch asked. Harry wondered vaguely if he was about to discover how exactly it was Filch communicated with his cat, but instead she just miaowed. 'Well, they can't be far,' Filch said. 'Let's scour the area.' He could hear Filch clomping off in one direction, but could only assume Mrs Norris was going in the other. That other way was unfortunately the way he needed to go. Then he remembered something else he'd learned from his friends about this room.

I need to exit near Gryffindor Tower, he thought, and a passageway appeared. He followed it to a door, which he opened just a crack and peeked out. He was almost directly across from the Fat Lady. Peering as far down the corridor as he could in both directions and seeing nothing, Harry decided to make a break for it.

He bolted from the doorway, called 'Caput Draconis' as softly as he could only halfway across the hall, and practically dove through the portrait hole without even slowing down. He paused for a moment to catch his breath as the portrait closed behind him, then tiptoed back up to his dormitory. Mission complete.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

Harry's first day back in classes was one of the most surreal things he had ever experienced. He felt like a veteran professional athlete being put onto a children's starter team. He found he needed to exert a lot of effort to not go through everything … well, effortlessly. The plants they covered in Herbology seemed as basic and mundane as dandelions, and Quirrell's defense class was an absolute joke. He seemed to recall feeling that way about it the first time around too, however.

In their first Charms lesson, Professor Flitwick was so excited to see his name when taking the register that he squeaked and toppled off his pile of books. This also may have happened before, but Harry was so accustomed to all the professors being used to his presence that it took him by surprise. The class itself turned out to be as dull as anything else though – no magic at all, just a heap of notes about things Harry already knew. He couldn't not take them without drawing unwanted attention, but they weren't perhaps quite as thorough as he might have done the first time.

Pretending to get lost with Ron was fun, at least. Sometimes, while pretending to be just as clueless as his friend, he would deliberately lead them off course for a laugh. He made sure they always made it to class on time, though.

By the time they'd finished dinner, he was so excited for Ginny's letter that he was barely able to pay attention to what Ron was saying, and, pretending to be exhausted, turned in early. Once he had drawn his bed's curtains, he cast a silencing charm followed by an alarm charm that would wake him up at quarter past two, at which time he planned to descend into the (hopefully) empty common room so Hedwig could deliver the letter.

At first he thought his excitement might make it difficult for him to fall asleep, but before he knew it the chirruping of his alarm charm was waking him up to a feeling he usually associated with Christmas morning. Making sure to disable his alarm before the silencing charm, Harry put on his dressing gown and crept down the spiral staircase into the common room. He only had to wait a minute or two before a tapping on one of the windows alerted him to Hedwig's presence. He hurried over to let her in, then carried her back to the couch on his arm.

'Good girl,' he said fondly, stroking her feathers while he untied the envelope from her leg, and then fed her some owl treats he'd put in his pocket earlier. She hooted gratefully before departing through the still open window, which Harry then shut with a flick of his wand. Turning his full attention to the envelope in his hand, Harry took a moment to gaze in wonder at the handwriting on it. Fingers trembling, he opened it and extracted the letter from within.

Dear Harry,

It's you! It's really, really you! Oh Merlin, I missed you so much! I still miss you, but at least I know you're out there, and I can write to you and hear from you. I must have re-read your letter two dozen times already. I know exactly what you mean about being afraid you might go mad; I'd been beginning to worry about the same thing. I was afraid I'd never see you again, and that you'd never know what happened to me. I still don't know what's happened.

You say you got here around the end of June? That's odd, because I woke up here almost exactly a month later. I remember because it was the day Ron got his Hogwarts letter – about a week before your birthday. As far as I could tell though that's the only difference, since the last thing I remember is falling asleep curled up next to you. It must have been the same night.

As for why we're here, I have no idea. If either of us did know, we've both forgotten. To me it seems like we've gone back in time somehow, but I had thought that we'd have gone in our own bodies if that were the case. That's what happened when you and Hermione did it before, right? And I thought there was a limit to how far back you could go. Or is that just a regulation, and not a limit on the actual possibilities of the magic? I wish we could ask Hermione. I miss her, and everyone else, but if there were only one person in the world I could choose to have with me, it would be you.

There's so much I want to tell you – and ask you. This letter could easily get absurdly long very quickly. How about, instead of that, I borrow some Floo Powder from Mum and Dad? Just a pinch. Since I know you're probably reading this in the early morning, do you think you could make it down to the common room tomorrow night at around 2:30? Don't worry about sending a reply to this unless you can't make it. We really need to work some things out, Harry, but more than that I just want to see your face again. I want to hear your voice.

I'm forcing myself to stop now, because if I don't I'll still be writing this by the time everyone gets up for breakfast tomorrow. I love you and I can't wait to see you tomorrow. Take care of yourself, and Ron.

All my love always,

Ginny

P.S. A hundred times would be wonderful, but I worry we won't have the time, so a half-dozen will be sufficient. XOXO

The letter itself had a faint hint of the flowery scent that always clung to Ginny, and Harry held it to his nose and inhaled greedily before going back to pore over it again. Floo Powder! Merlin, she was brilliant. It was so simple! And he'd be talking to her in almost exactly twenty-four hours. Face to face! He could hardly contain himself.

Looking again at the letter, he focused on how Ginny, too, seemed to believe it most likely that they'd been sent to the past somehow. Though he did not know how that could be done by having them inhabit their original bodies, he conceded that the Sorting Hat was right in that he was not exactly an expert in that area, so there was no reason it could not be entirely possible and he just didn't know about it.

If that did turn out to be the case, it made it more important than ever that he not let on to anyone else what was happening, and what he knew. Too much knowledge of future events could be dangerous – he knew that much – and noble as his intentions typically were, Harry was not entirely certain he trusted even Dumbledore with that type of knowledge. He took solace, however, in his confidence that Dumbledore would likely have agreed and not trusted himself with it, either.

This of course meant that he could not allow anyone to ever see the letter he was still holding (and occasionally sniffing). As he was almost certain his subconscious would physically not allow him to destroy it, he settled for hiding it in the bottom of his trunk under a particularly ugly pair of Uncle Vernon's old socks.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

If waiting for Ginny's letter had been exciting, it was nothing compared to waiting to speak to her face to face the following night. He was so worked up he almost forgot himself more than once, and nearly transfigured his match into a needle on his first attempt in Transfiguration before remembering at the last second that he shouldn't know how to do that. He decided to wait until after Hermione managed to make hers go long and pointy before turning the head of his match into the eye of a needle, reasoning that it would be impressive enough without being suspiciously so. Between the two of them, they earned seven points for Gryffindor, so that was something, he supposed.

History of Magic was just as boring as it had always been – unlike most of the other classes, it couldn't possibly be any more dull than it had the first time around – but Harry was surprised to note just how much easier it was to pay attention. Evidently having an adult attention span was advantageous in some areas. Even more surprising was how much of Professor Binns' droning lecture he actually already knew; apparently he'd taken in more over the years than he'd thought.

He and Ron spent the rest of their afternoon before dinner exploring the castle, which was probably a lot more fun for Ron who was seeing it all for the first time. More than once Harry caught himself too late automatically skipping over a trick step or walking past a false door; Ron was too busy getting fooled by them himself to notice, but Harry knew that wouldn't last and he'd need to be more careful.

After dinner they worked on the homework Professor McGonagall had given them. It probably seemed like a lot for most first years, but Harry finished it in no time at all and then spent the rest of the evening pretending he hadn't. He was definitely going to need to work out a better system because he could see how that was going to get tedious very quickly.

Once again he placed alarm and silencing charms around his bed once he'd shut the curtains. He tossed and turned about for a bit in anticipation before drifting off, and was then awoken once more by the chirruping alarm.

Checking that all his dorm-mates were asleep, Harry once more tiptoed down the spiral staircase into the deserted common room. Looking at his watch, he saw that he had about five minutes before Ginny was due to appear, so he dragged his favorite armchair over to sit directly in front of the fire. If anyone came downstairs now, Ginny would have a split second to disappear before anyone could see her.

Sitting in the armchair staring at the fire, Harry's heart was pounding harder than it had since the day he proposed. At that time, even though he'd been almost completely certain she would say yes, he had still been more nervous than at any other time in his life, including the first time he faced a dragon. Now it was not nerves but hope that drove his adrenaline, but the feeling was not dissimilar at all.

With a quick flash and a whoosh, Ginny's ten year-old face appeared before him, and he broke into an almost painful grin, which she reflected almost immediately.

'I love you,' were the first words out of his mouth, before he'd realized he'd even spoken.

'That's one down and five to go, Potter,' she teased. 'I love you too. Merlin, it's good to see you.'

'You're telling me,' Harry sighed, sliding off the chair to kneel on the floor as close to her as the heat would allow. 'I'd about lost it, Ginny. I don't know what I would have done, honestly I don't.'

'Me too,' she said. 'It was especially hard being around Fred every day. I mean, it was wonderful, but painful too, you know?'

'I do,' he nodded. 'It was the same for me when he and George came to say hello on the train. I don't know how you managed it for a whole month.'

'It gets easier,' she said. 'The hardest part was not letting anyone know I wasn't the same Ginny they knew.'

'I'm starting to realize that, yeah,' Harry said fervently, thinking back on his first two days of school. He knew that Ginny was a much better actor than he was, so if she was admitting to having trouble, he needed to be doubly on his toes. 'I keep slipping up and almost letting on that I know more than I should, or know people I haven't met yet. With the Dursleys it wasn't much of a problem since we never spoke much anyway and I doubt they'd notice anything if we did, but here…'

'Lessons must be a treat,' Ginny grinned. 'Are you outperforming Hermione in everything?'

'I'm taking great care not to, as a matter of fact. It's harder than you'd think, actually. First year spells are so basic that it's harder to not do them properly than it was to get them right when we first learned them.'

'I can imagine,' she said, with an air of exasperation. 'I can't tell you how many times I've gone to summon my clothes in the morning or fix something a gnome's broken before remembering I haven't even got my wand yet.'

'That has to be frustrating,' Harry failed to repress a smile.

'You have no idea,' she said, before laughing. 'Or I suppose you do. Anyway,' her tone turned serious, 'what do you reckon is happening? Have we really gone back in time? That's certainly what it seems like.'

'It's looking more and more like that's the case,' Harry agreed reluctantly. 'I can't imagine how it's possible, but the Sorting Hat reckons that's what's going on as well, and it reminded me that I'm not exactly an expert on time travel, so how would I know what's possible and what isn't?'

'You talked to the Sorting Hat about it?'

'Oh yeah, we had a nice long gab. I ended up as a Hatstall this time around, if you can believe it. Not because it didn't know where to put me,' he added as she opened her mouth in surprise, 'it knew right away I'd already been sorted. That's what got the whole thing going. It helped me eliminate some other possible theories I'd been considering, too.'

'I don't even want to ask what those are,' said Ginny. 'They'll probably just terrify me.'

Harry shrugged. 'Maybe, but I can't see how going back in time thirteen years is much better. The hat seemed almost positive that's what's happened.'

'You're still not sure, though?'

'Well, we could be trapped in some kind of curse or cursed object, but the hat pointed out that something like that would need to be ridiculously complex, so the longer we're here, the less likely that becomes. I'm starting to agree with it, if I'm being completely honest.' It was the first time he'd admitted this, even to himself. 'I mean, it's supposed to be impossible to recall the dead, but we know that's not true,' he said, alluding to the Resurrection Stone he'd used to speak to his parents and Sirius and Remus. 'And it's not supposed to be possible to survive the killing curse either, and I've done that twice. Who's to say going back to relive the past can't be done? The bigger question there is why.'

'Well, if it's something we did voluntarily, I certainly don't remember it,' Ginny said.

'Nor do I. I've thought about that, too. If we had sent ourselves back deliberately, I'm sure we'd have put in some kind of precaution in case we lost our memories. Some kind of trigger to jog them and remind us why we're here.'

'That makes sense,' Ginny nodded. 'I haven't seen or felt anything like that. So you think someone else sent us back?'

'Most likely. Whether they did it on purpose or by accident is another question altogether.'

'True,' Ginny agreed. 'This isn't likely to be some kind of prank, and it seems a rather benign method of attacking us.'

'Unless they were just trying to attack us psychologically,' Harry pointed out.

'That's a good point, but then why send us both?' Ginny asked. 'I mean, we've both said we were worried about going mad, but that was until we met up.' She paused and smiled happily. 'Seems a poor way of driving us crazy, don't you think?'

'Yes,' agreed Harry again. 'Especially since anyone who knew us at all would know that would be the one way to make sure it wouldn't work.' His eyebrows shot up in sudden realization. So did Ginny's.

'You don't think…' she started, and trailed off when he nodded strongly.

'Maybe, maybe,' he said. 'Sending us both back would ensure neither of us went mad, which means whoever did it didn't want us to go mad.'

'So why send us at all?'

'Maybe we're supposed to fix something,' Harry grasped at the myriad ideas now zipping around in his head. 'Change something. Like when Hermione and I went back to save Buckbeak and Sirius.'

'That was just a couple of hours, though,' Ginny said. 'What would need sending us back this far?'

'Well, the only thing I can think of is the war,' Harry said. 'I've already wondered whether or not I should just expose Quirrell right here and now and have the whole thing over with. But the war's been over for years. Why risk everything we've managed to rebuild on the off-chance we can do it better this time?'

'More important than that, why not send Ron and Hermione as well?' Ginny asked. 'They were a much bigger part of taking down Voldemort than I was.'

'Assuming that's even it,' Harry said. 'And maybe they couldn't. Maybe two people is the limit. Maybe they did but Ron and Hermione haven't arrived yet. You said you woke up about a month after I did, right?'

'That's true,' Ginny conceded. 'We really don't have much to go on at all, do we?'

'No,' said Harry. 'But when have we ever let that be an issue?'

Ginny laughed. It was a beautiful sound.

'I love you,' Harry blurted again.

'You really are going to go for six, aren't you?' Ginny asked, sounding quite amused.

'I promised, didn't I?' countered Harry. 'And anyway, sometimes I can't help it. It just comes out.'

'I know the feeling,' Ginny sighed, giving him a very fond look. 'But we really do need to come up with some sort of plan. I think it would be best if we hope to get ourselves out of this soon, but plan to be stuck here.'

'My Auror training seems to have rubbed off on you,' Harry teased.

'At your own insistence,' Ginny fired back.

'I regret nothing. But you're right; the worst case scenario is that there is no way out of this other than just living through it all again, so that's what we should plan for.'

'Won't that be fun,' Ginny said darkly.

'In the meantime we can be on the lookout for any kind of memory triggers to clue us in as to why this happened, as well as anyone else we think might have been sent back along with us.'

'That might be hard, the farther along we go,' Ginny pointed out. 'I mean, I don't know about you, but I don't remember every little thing I did every day thirteen years ago, so we're bound to change some things. The farther along we go, the more and more different everything is going to become.'

'True,' said Harry. 'But even if that's the case, anyone coming back from the future would at least be a little confused by things. We can think about how we're acting and try to see if anyone else is doing the same. A few changes might even work to our advantage in that case, since it might mean the person in question is coming back to a past they don't recognize, which is bound to be extra confusing.'

'All right,' said Ginny. 'I suppose that's the best we can do under the circumstances. But now on to more pressing matters: what are you going to do about Quirrell? You said you only toyed with the idea of exposing him; you're not planning to go through that whole ordeal again, are you?'

'I've been thinking about that since I got here,' said Harry. 'Based on what I remember, Voldemort should already have possessed Quirrell by now, so in theory I could just go up and shake his hand one day and reveal the whole plot right there.

'On the other hand, I have no idea where the Philosopher's Stone is right now. Dumbledore hid it in the Mirror of Erised last time, but that was just sitting around in an empty classroom as late as Christmas break, so he probably hasn't gotten around to it yet.'

'If you ousted Voldemort right now, they might not even need to destroy the stone,' Ginny suggested.

'They still might. I mean, if they don't, he could just try to steal it again another time. When have we ever known Tom Riddle to give up after one try?'

'That is a good point,' agreed Ginny. 'And something else I just thought of: what are you going to do about Hermione?'

'What do you mean?' Harry asked, not sure where she was going with such a question.

'Well, I mean, you three became friends last time because you saved her from a troll and she kept you out of trouble, right?' Ginny said. 'If that doesn't happen, maybe you won't become friends at all this time.'

'I could just try being nice to her and making friends normally,' Harry said wryly.

'You could,' Ginny continued, 'but from what you lot have told me, Ron was a right prat to her for the first couple of months, and you weren't much better. Even if you are friendly toward her, Ron might not be. And,' she went on, before Harry could refute her first point, 'Hermione herself wasn't particularly pleasant to be around either, from what I understand. Maybe the three of you needed some big event to bond.'

'I don't know, Ginny,' said Harry, considering this. 'I mean yeah, we thought Hermione was a bossy know-it-all at first, but we were eleven. And to be fair, she didn't really change after the troll; we just decided we didn't mind that aspect of her so much. I think if I asked her if we could study with her or something, she probably wouldn't say no. Ron would grumble, but he'd go along with it, I think, especially after he realizes how much she'll be able to help him with his homework.'

'Will she want to, though?' Ginny asked. 'I mean before, she obviously knew you were all right blokes because you'd saved her from a troll. What reason does she have to trust you this time?'

'What do you mean?' Harry asked, bewildered.

Ginny sighed in exasperation and rolled her eyes. 'Harry, you're incredibly sweet and I love you, but you can also be remarkably dense at times. You know Hermione never really had any friends in Muggle primary school, right?'

'She never really talked about it, actually,' replied Harry uncomfortably.

'Really?' Ginny asked, surprised. Her eyebrows had shot up toward her hairline. 'Well, I suppose that makes sense,' she said more to herself than to Harry. 'It must be uncomfortable to talk about. Anyway,' she went on, back to him, 'she didn't. Most of the other kids teased her and picked on her for being a "bossy know-it-all", and the ones who didn't were only nice to her because they hoped she'd help them with their homework. She's not likely to trust you if you just come up to her out of the blue, especially if that really is all Ron is after from the friendship.'

'Wow,' said Harry, trying to take all of that in. 'She never mentioned any of that. I mean, I never had friends in primary school either, but that was just because of Dudley. So you reckon we really do need the troll, then?'

'I worry that you might, yeah,' Ginny said.

'What if we just stood up for her when other people pick on her?' Harry suggested.

'That could work,' Ginny said thoughtfully, 'but there's still Ron. I know you've always had a certain amount of influence over him Harry, but I don't know if you'd be able to get him on board with that so soon.'

'You might be right about that,' said Harry sadly. 'We did just start after all and he's not likely to want everyone thinking he's a swot.'

'Exactly.'

'Remind me why I'm best friends with a prat, again?' Harry joked.

'Because you were eleven and you were a bit of a prat too,' Ginny reminded him, smiling indulgently.

'Oh, right.'

'Good job you both grew out of it. Otherwise I may have had to marry someone more mature, like Cormac McLaggen.'

'Oi!' snapped Harry, laughing along with her despite himself. 'Below the belt!' She just giggled some more.

'I'm not sure if I like this plan, though,' Harry continued once their laughter had subsided. 'For one thing it means letting Ron be horrible to Hermione and maybe even doing it myself in order to make sure she runs crying into the bathroom. And even that depends on a whole lot of things happening at the right time. She'd have to be in there on Hallowe'en, and I'd really have no control over that, nor which bathroom she runs to. There's also Quirrell letting in the troll, which will probably still happen but what if it doesn't? And what if it doesn't go into the bathroom where she is? A whole lot of things can go wrong, and if we don't end up saving her, we'll just be even worse off for having treated her so badly up until that point.'

'It's a risk,' Ginny admitted, 'but the alternative might be Hermione never making any friends at all. And even if it's not the same for you living it again and everything, she and Ron still need each other. You know they do.'

Harry let out a great sigh. 'You're right; of course you're right. This is going to be really difficult.'

'You can pull it off,' Ginny said confidently. 'It won't be the hardest thing you've ever done.'

'I hope so,' Harry said. 'I hate to think what might happen if I can't.'

There was a short pause as neither of them seemed to be able to think of anything to say. Then Ginny said, 'Well, I don't reckon we can do much else until we know how that works out. We should maybe hold off on planning more until we see how it goes.'

'Yeah, all right,' Harry agreed. Neither of them wanted to say goodnight, however. They stayed up talking for another hour and a half, Harry fitting in his remaining four declarations and then some. When they finally (and reluctantly) decided they needed to go back to bed, it was with a longing gaze and an agreement to meet at the same time the following week. Harry wanted to see her every day and send owls as well – so did Ginny – but they both agreed that would not be wise if they were trying to avoid drawing attention to themselves. They were risking enough as it was. By the time Harry finally managed to get back upstairs, the inky black sky was already starting to lighten the tiniest bit, and he was relieved to note that none of his dorm mates had chosen to rise particularly early that day.
He was about to climb back into bed when he noticed something else – something he'd been forcing himself to ignore lest he do something he'd have a lot of trouble explaining. Scabbers, a.k.a. Peter Pettigrew, a.k.a. Wormtail the Death Eater, was sleeping lazily on Ron's bed. On the train he'd been so distracted by thoughts of Ginny that it had taken until halfway through the trip to notice the little rat, and a white hot spike of rage had flooded through him once he finally did. He'd quickly tamped it down, and had done his best since then to pay Ron's supposed pet as little attention as possible. Even now, the temptation to just grab the sleeping rat and wring his cowardly little neck was bubbling up inside of him. He knew it wasn't the time, but he also knew he'd have to come up with a better way of coping with sharing a dormitory with his parents' betrayer. For the time being, he made himself look away and rather more violently than was necessary pulled his bed curtains closed. Willing his mind back to thoughts of Ginny instead of the rat on the next bed, he managed to drift back to sleep.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

The plan Harry and Ginny had worked out to befriend Hermione in the same manner as before began to fall apart the very next day. Harry was not able to bring himself to be cold or unkind toward Hermione, but had managed at least indifference. He reckoned that was the best he was going to be able to do.

The problem arose that morning in their first Potions lesson with Professor Snape. Like Flitwick, Snape paused when he reached Harry's name during the register, but his reaction was the disdain Harry had come to expect from the greasy Potions master over the years. Harry might have respected the man for what he did during the war, and felt a tiny bit sorry for him due to the devotion he held toward Harry's mother, but he would never like him. Snape was and always would be a bully, but now Harry was a grown man (in mind if not in body), he didn't have to take it anymore.

'Ah yes,' Snape said softly when he reached Harry's name. 'Harry Potter. Our new – celebrity.'

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle sniggered, and Harry resisted the urge to roll his eyes. Snape finished the register and then went into a long speech about the power and subtlety of potion-making that probably would have been very impressive coming from anyone else. There was silence for a moment afterward, and Hermione was at the edge of her seat with anticipation. Then Snape jerked his head toward Harry.

'Potter!' he snapped. 'What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?'

Oh, right, Harry thought to himself. He'd forgotten about this stunt Snape had pulled on his first day. Honestly, how pathetic. Something about the ingredients tugged at his memory, though.

'Hang on, I know this,' Harry said, playing for time while he tried to remember. Powdered root of asphodel and wormwood … he'd made something using those before … a textbook that had been scribbled all over came into his mind, followed by a tiny bottle of thick, golden liquid. 'Oh!' He exclaimed suddenly, ignoring Hermione's quivering hand next to him. 'It's the Draught of Living Death, isn't it?' he said. Snape looked taken aback; clearly he had not expected Harry to know this.

'Indeed,' he said reluctantly. 'Where would you look, Potter, if I asked you to find me a bezoar?'

Harry grinned. That one he knew. 'A goat's stomach,' he said confidently. 'Or an apothecary, I suppose.'

Snape's lip curled in fury. This was obviously not going at all the way he had planned. He tried one more time. 'One more then, Potter. What is the difference between monkshood and wolfsbane?'

Now that was an easy one. Was Snape even trying anymore? 'They're the same plant, sir,' he said. Hermione, for the third time, lowered her hand in disappointment, but gave him an appraising look.

'Quite,' snarled Snape. 'However, I do not appreciate your cheek, Potter. That's one point from Gryffindor. And one more for showing off, I think.' He turned and stalked back toward the blackboard. Harry closed his eyes, expelled a deep breath through his nose, and tried to summon patience.

'I sincerely hope you were all writing that down,' Snape said to the class. There was a flurry for quills and ink. 'However, what Potter neglected to mention is that the Draught of Living Death is a powerful sleeping potion meant to simulate death. The primary use of a bezoar is as a poison antidote, and yet another name for wolfsbane is aconite. If you're going to show off, Potter, at least make sure you include all the relevant information.'

Shortly after this, Snape set them to work making a potion to cure boils. It was exceptionally simple compared to what he was used to, and by the time he finished he expected it was the best he'd ever performed in one of Snape's classes. Ron had loyally complained about how unfair Snape was soon after they got started.

'How can he accuse you of showing off when he asked you the questions in the first place?' he fumed. 'And what was he playing at singling you out with questions like that, anyway? It's like he wanted you to get it wrong, and was upset when you didn't. D'you know, I expect if you hadn't known them, he'd have taken points off for not preparing or some such rubbish.'

Harry, who knew that to be true, managed a smile. 'I'm not worried about it,' he said. 'He can be a git all he likes; as long as I do all right in the class he can't really do anything, right? I don't expect Dumbledore would approve of Snape failing me just because he doesn't like me.'

'That's true, I suppose,' said Ron, crushing up some snake fangs. 'Why doesn't he like you, though?'

'Search me,' Harry lied, tossing his horned slugs into his cauldron. 'I've never met him before. Maybe he didn't like my dad or something. People say I look like him.'

'That's a really stupid reason to not like somebody,' Ron replied. Harry had to agree.

Just then, Snape was interrupted from praising Malfoy's stewed horned slugs to the class by a cloud of acrid green smoke coming from Neville and Seamus's work station. Snape hustled over and started telling Neville off, eventually ordering Seamus to take him up to the Hospital wing. Snape then rounded on Harry.

'You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor.'

Ron seethed next to him as soon as Snape's back was turned, but Harry was left wondering just how damaged this man really was. Armed with insight he hadn't possessed during his initial experience, Harry could now see that Snape was projecting his feelings for Harry's father onto Harry himself. He expected Harry's actions and motivations to be the same as James's. But the more Harry thought about that, the more he began to wonder how much of Snape's opinion of James was warranted (Sirius and Remus had admitted, after all, that James could be a bit of a prat at times, and Harry had seen at least one incident for himself), and how much was based on Snape's own expectations of James's behavior. Harry already knew, after all, that James had not remained a bully forever, yet to hear Snape tell it that was all he'd ever been. Had it been purely jealousy over Lily that drove this colored vision of a man that by all other accounts had been for the most part a genuinely good person? Had James's own similar jealousy driven his unfair treatment of Snape?

These were all questions Harry was not likely to ever learn the answers to, but in a way they helped him keep his composure. He would never like Snape, that was certain, but understanding what made him such a nasty person at least made it easier not to hate him.

At lunch, Harry received a shock. Hermione asked quite timidly if she might sit with he and Ron at the Gryffindor table. On instinct, Harry told her that of course she could before he remembered what he and Ginny had discussed the night before. Too late now, he thought as Hermione sat down.

'That was really unfair what Professor Snape did to you this morning,' she said to Harry without preamble. 'Just because you knew the answers to his questions, I mean. Why would he ask you if he didn't want you to answer?'

'Ron reckons he wanted me to say I didn't know so he could lay into me for that,' Harry said, grabbing a sandwich.

'Why would he do that?' Hermione asked earnestly, helping herself to a sandwich as well.

'We were just wondering the same thing,' Ron said from Harry's other side. 'It's pretty obvious he doesn't like Harry for whatever reason – didn't go after anyone else, did he? Fred and George – they're my brothers – say he always favors Slytherin house, but they didn't say anything about him laying into students from other houses.'

'Like poor Neville,' said Hermione sadly. 'I mean honestly, it was our first potion! Not everyone was going to get it right on the first try. I saw some Slytherins whose potions didn't look any better than his. I think your brothers might be right.'

'I wonder if he'd have gone at you for not helping Neville if you hadn't known the answers, Harry?' Ron mused, chomping on some chips.

'Probably,' Harry said darkly, knowing it was true.

'How did you know the answers, anyway?' Ron asked, as though the thought had just struck him. 'I mean, except for the monkshood/wolfsbane one, those weren't typical first-year questions, were they?'

'I don't think they were,' Hermione said. 'Bezoars are mentioned in our textbook of course, but not in anything we'll cover this year. Same with Draught of the Living Death.'

'Well, I didn't have much to do over the summer,' Harry said by way of explanation, hoping they would buy it. 'My relatives are Muggles, see, and they, er, don't like me very much. Our schoolbooks were actually really interesting to me since I'd never heard of magic before, so I read through most of them before we got here. I guess I remembered at least some of it.'

Ron looked shocked and Hermione looked impressed. 'It was the same for me,' she said. 'Of course I already told you that, didn't I? I suppose I'm just surprised I wasn't the only one.'

'Well, I didn't learn them off by heart of anything,' Harry joked good-naturedly. 'I'm not quite that clever.'

'You'd better not be,' Ron said. 'I don't know what I'd do if there were two of you.'

Harry noticed that this comment made Hermione look very uncomfortable, and he remembered what Ginny had told him about her primary school experience. Better to put himself on her side now rather than isolate her.

'Cheer up, Ron,' he said. 'At least we'll be able to help you with homework, yeah?'

'Yeah?' said Ron, brightening up. 'I mean, I'd feel bad asking, but I suppose if you offered…'

He trailed off and Harry laughed. He noticed Hermione seemed to be looking a bit more comfortable with the conversation again.

'I can only speak for myself,' Harry said, 'but I'll help you if I can. Dunno how much use I'll be, but we'll see. No copying, though.' He threw in that last bit knowing Hermione would approve. Ron looked disappointed for a moment and then shrugged.

'I guess that's fair,' he said. 'Don't look at a gift-owl's wings, after all.' He took another sandwich. 'Hey what time were we meeting Hagrid, again?'

'Three,' said Harry, checking the note Hagrid had sent him that morning inviting him for tea.

'Hagrid?' Hermione asked.

'He's the gamekeeper,' Ron explained. 'Big bloke we crossed the lake with the other night. Harry's friends with him apparently, and got invited for tea this afternoon. Said I could come. Want to join us?'

Harry immediately felt both very fond and proud of Ron. Hermione looked shocked at the invitation but managed to stammer that yes, she would like to come, and just like that Quirrell and his troll became irrelevant.

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

~O~O~O~O~O~O~O~

There were a few scene transitions in this one that I wasn't very fond of, but I eventually realized that I could sit around tweaking it forever and still possibly not be satisfied. Rather than devote maximum effort for minimum returns, I put an end to the procrastinating and called it done. Hope y'all like it.

Feedback is always appreciated; thank you in advance.