A/N: So, I'm baaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaack! Sort of. I want to thank everyone that read and enjoyed Vanilla. It was a blast to write. While it was my first story that I put on here, it was not however the first story I wrote in the Harry Potter sandbox. THIS is this first piece of fan fiction I ever wrote. Is it good? Meh. In my opinion, Vanilla is leaps and bounds better. I cut my teeth on this story, learned how to write.

I was inspired to write this story after reading Time Again by broomstick flyer. It's a "been there, written a million times" storyline. I didn't realize that at the time I wrote it. I had only begun reading fan fiction at that point. Hence why I didn't post it until now. I've got the bug to write again. And while I write that one, I'm going to be editing this one and posting it, give you guys and gals that like my writing something to gnaw on for a little while.

Just remember: This is not as good as Vanilla, and its a tired storyline. So I ask for your forgiveness in advance. If you're still reading this, and bound and determined to plow through this, then by all means, enjoy... And if you don't enjoy it, don't say I didn't warn you.

Harry Potter and Doing It All Over Again

Chapter 1

Harry Potter tried opening his eyes, but they were being quite uncooperative. Squinting fiercely, trying to keep out the intruding early morning sunlight, Harry reached out for the edge of his covers. As he did so, he noticed it was much easier to move than the previous few nights. He made a mental note to say thank you to Professor Rimsky for the wonderful relaxing potion. After what had happened, he really needed something to help him put his mind at ease. As he grabbed the sheets, the memory of last nights dream crept into his consciousness. 'My, what a strange dream, so life like too.'

He absentmindedly pulled back his bed sheets. 'Wow, even my shoulder feels better than it has in years, that's quite some potion. I'll have to ask her make it more often for me.' He swung his legs out from under the covers and over the edge of the bed. He was quite surprised at the ease at which he had done so. It was almost as if... 'No, not possible... just the potion I'm sure.'

He reached for his glasses and put them on. He looked down at the floor, and cocked his head in amusement. 'Did they change the carpet in my office without telling me? Perhaps they're trying to cheer me up, putting the old carpet in my office. I've have to thank them for trying. Certainly worthy of Gred and Forge.'

He set his feet on the floor and began to stand up. He winced out of habit, expecting to feel the throbbing pain in both his knees, but it never came. As he stood up, he felt quite confused. He kept going up, and up, and up. He stood up straight for the first time in what seemed like forever. 'Ok, this is kind of weird. This potion has to have some nasty side effects if taken regularly. Every elderly witch and wizard should be taking heavy doses of it if it doesn't. It makes you feel so young, so good. Professor Rimsky would be rich if she sold this thing.'

Just then he heard a noise, which sounded an awful lot like a chainsaw. Harry's head instinctively snapped in the direction of the noise. He was startled by what he saw so much that he fell backwards onto his bed. He quickly looked around the room, and noticed that he was most certainly not alone in the room. 'What the bloody hell is going on here?' Harry thought to himself as beads of sweat began forming on his forehead.

He saw that the bed he was sleeping in was not the only one in the room; it in fact was one of five. He looked to the bed immediately to his right, and a tuft of red hair was peeking out of the top of the covers. 'Ron?' He looked around the room again, and saw three other lumps in the beds surrounding his. 'Neville, Dean, Seamus?'

He once again stood up, and ran into the washroom. He turned on the sink, threw his glasses on the counter, and threw cold water on his face. He splashed himself several times before stopping and drying himself off. He put back on his glasses, and looked in the mirror. He stumbled back several feet, reeling in shock from seeing the face staring back at him.

His eyes were wide, looking at the young boy returning his stare. He put his hands up to his face, feeling the young skin on his cheeks with his now unwrinkled hands. 'No way... No, no… No way… That can't possibly have been real… This can't be real…. This must be a dream…'

'No Harry… this is quite real… all of it actually…' Harry heard a faint voice in his head say, which sounded a lot like that of Albus Dumbledore. His dream last night now came slamming into the forefront of his thoughts. 'There's only one way to tell…' Harry ran into his room, threw on some clothes and quickly exited his dorm room.

He ran down the Grand Staircase and into the Great Hall. His heart, pounding in his chest, leapt into his throat. He saw her sitting in her usual spot, eating alone, the woman he had known for more than 100 years. But now what? How was he supposed to do this? Not even in his 122 years had he learned the ways of the female gender. The great Harry Potter, Headmaster at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry for over 60 years, The Boy Who Lived, slayer of the Dark Lord Voldemort, couldn't even think straight as he approached the woman whom he always considered his closest friend.

Nervously he sat down on Hermione Granger's left. She had, as always, her nose firmly planted into a book. The one she was currently reading was "Non-Human Languages and How to Understand Them." Harry chuckled to himself, 'That's my Hermione, always reading.' She had her brown, bushy hair pulled back in its usual loose ponytail, and her dark brown book bag laying open beside her.

Trying to act casual, Harry said, "Morning Professor," as he grabbed some toast and some porridge. It had been many, many years since Harry had sat down at the Gryffindor table, and was pleased to see all the familiar teachers sitting up at the head table.

Hermione blinked once, then twice. "Excuse me?" she retorted. She looked at him with a very confused expression, raising her right eyebrow, her chocolate brown eyes scanning him for some hint as to why he had called her "Professor."

Harry's eyes nearly bugged out of his skull the instant she spoke. He dropped the spoon he was using into the bowl of porridge, his jaw slacking. Why are habits so hard to break? Hermione, the old Hermione, Professor Weasley, always insisted to Harry that she be called Professor. Only in private or on informal occasions would he ever be allowed to call her by the name he had used since they first met. Now, it was that same Hermione persistence that was the cause of his predicament.

"Is that what you and Ron's new nickname for me is or something?" she said as she narrowed her eyes and shook her head at Harry. "Just because..."

"I'm sorry... it's just... sorry... ok? I didn't mean anything by it. It's just..."

"It's ok Harry," Hermione interrupted. "I'm sure there are worse things you two could have come up with," she finished, shaking her head in disbelief, a smile now adorning her face.

Harry breathed a sigh of relief at her response. He wouldn't have to lie his way out of this one. He always did have trouble lying to her.

"It's just... never mind. I was hoping to talk to you about something."

"What is it? Something about the egg? Well, I've been reading..."

"The egg?" Harry was thrown off guard at the mention of an egg. 'What egg?' Harry thought back to his time at Hogwarts as a student. He had some amazing adventures in his time at Hogwarts. Harry wracked his brain for a reason that Hermione would possibly be asking about an egg for? 'Oh yeah, forth year, the second task. The Triwizard Tournament. The egg. The clue,' Harry thought to himself. It had been so many years since he competed in the Triwizard Tournament that he nearly forgot what he had to actually do for the tasks.

"Oh... the egg... no... it's not about that. I've got that figured out already." Harry recollected back to the time in the prefects bathroom, receiving the help of a very flirty Moaning Myrtle.

"You what? When? Why didn't you tell me? What is it?" Hermione stuttered over her words, flabbergasted that Harry had figured out the screeching sound that had come from the egg just days before.

"I'll tell you later. What I want to talk about is more important to me than that. I wanted to ask you something."

"What is it Harry?" she said as she looked at him with a puzzled look on her face, trying to determine from his expression what he wanted.

"I was wondering... I mean... um... er..."

Harry was inwardly kicking himself. How could the most powerful wizard alive be reduced to a stammering, stuttering idiot in front of his best friend, someone he had always confided in? He never imagined that this moment would ever happen to him, but now faced with it, he'd much rather face Voldemort one hundred times in one hundred days than be doing this right now.

"Well, spit it out..." she said, anxious to hear what was causing the Boy-Who-Lived such a problem he couldn't speak properly.

"Wow... I'm just more nervous now than I've been in years..."

"Harry! How can you be more nervous asking me a silly question than you were fighting a dragon, which in case you've forgotten, was all of a couple weeks ago? I distinctly remember you being quite nervous then." Hermione couldn't believe that Harry was nervous to ask her something. He had always come to her for help, and she was always more the willing to do so.

Harry pondered this new/old piece of information. To him, it had been a long time since he used his Firebolt to out-maneuver the Hungarian Horntail. But to Hermione, this Hermione, it had only been a matter of weeks. But he also remembered that as nervous as he was waiting to face his dragon, he knew what was ahead of him then. Now, faced with the reason he was sent back, he was sure he was more nervous now than he was then. This, he wasn't sure how to handle.

"Yeah... I guess so... just feels like years I guess... but anyway... I wanted to know... if... if you... like me?" Harry asked as his hands and knees were shaking. Why was he shaking so badly? He asked a question he thought he knew the answer to, yet here he sat, the anticipation of her reply was enough to nearly shake him out of his own robes.

"Oh Harry, of course I like you." Hermione said in the matter-of-fact tone she always had. With her reply, she had done what she always did, answer without revealing her true feelings. Though as she said it, she wore a broad smile, which Harry had seen many times in his life.

Harry's heart fluttered as her words rolled off her tongue. This was what he wanted to hear. He knew what she meant, even though he was sure that she had believed herself to be quite neutral. Harry could barely contain his excitement, and was fighting his own body from engulfing Hermione's. He did allow himself however, to grin from ear to ear. After the past few nights, Harry was exploding with happiness inside him.

"That's wonderful to hear Hermione."

"But why is that more important than the Triwizard Tournament?" she said, suddenly transforming back into the Hermione he knew so well: a narrowing of the eyebrows, seriousness exuding in her voice, and the pursed lips that reminded him so much of Professor McGonagall.

"Because, you mean more to me than anyone else in the world. You're my best friend, I love you, and I think I'd like to be with you for the rest of my life, and eventually, marry you." Harry blurted out, a dumb grin on his face.

Hermione, for her part, was positively glowing and soaking in everything he had to say. An excitement she had never thought possible was welling up inside her as Harry's words washed over her. Up until she heard the word 'marry' that is. When she heard that word, her smile disappeared, and a scowl quickly replaced it. Her eyes were filling up with hurt and anger, and she glared at her best friend.

"Harry James Potter, it's cruel to joke like that! How could you!" she yelled at him. She slammed her book closed, and hastily threw it in her bag. A wave of shock and horror washed over Harry as he watched her throw the rest of her books in her bag. Tears were forming in her eyes as she rapidly stood up.

Harry, reacting quickly, stood up with her. She threw her bag over her right shoulder, spun away from him and started to walk away. His seeker reflexes kicked in, grabbing her left elbow and spun her back around to face him. In one fell swoop, he planted his lips on hers.

At that moment, the world stopped. The Great Hall seemed to fade away, and there was a deafening silence. Only the feel of Hermione's lips on his existed in the universe. It may have been five hours, but more than likely it was about five seconds, as he felt her body relax, as she returned his kiss.

Harry had never felt this way before. No kiss he had ever had made him feel the way he felt right now. His heart was pounding, his knees were buckling, and the only thing that mattered at that moment was Hermione. Harry could feel the need to breath coming, but he didn't want something as trivial as breathing separate him from her lips. Only when his body forced him, involuntarily, to break apart from her, did he. He thought his body betrayed him, and cursed the human instinct for survival. As their lips separated, his eyes opened enough see that she was looking at him as well. He gazed into her eyes, never blinking. Finally, after a few moments of infinite bliss, did the Great Hall once again come back into his universe, which was blurry and hardly noticeable, as he looked into her teary eyes, but it existed nonetheless.

"I wasn't joking Hermione," Harry whispered, trying to force his voice box to work after the incredible sensation that had just occurred. He put his forehead against hers, his cheeks slowly turning red. Hermione on the other hand, had her scowl replaced once again by her wide smile and cheeks as red as Ron's hair.

"I... Harry... how..." she said as she looked at Harry's smiling face. Her knees were shaking, and her voice trembling. "How did you know?"

"Well... I... well... Hermione, would you like to be my girlfriend?" he said as he let go of her elbow, moving his hand down to hers, and gently held her hand in his.

"Oh Harry! Yes... yes! Of course... yes!" Hermione replied, quickly kissing his lips again

"Would you like to take a walk then?"

"I'd love to," she said as her free arm made its way around his neck, pulling him down into another passionate kiss.

As their kiss lingered, only now did their senses realize that there was an entire world surrounding them. They broke apart to whoops and hollers, winks and wolf-whistles. They looked around the Great Hall and blushed at the attention they were receiving. Harry looked at Hermione, tugged her hand towards him, and led her out into the hallway.

Once outside the Great Hall, away from the attention of everyone, Hermione threw her arms around his neck and kissed him once again. Harry had never felt this kind of passion before in his life. Never even with his former wife Ginny did he experience something this powerful.

As they continued to kiss each other outside the Great Hall, the sound of footsteps filled the hallway, followed by a loud gasp. Harry separated from Hermione's lips and looked around to see where the noise came from. He tore his eyes away from Hermione and saw the source: Cho Chang, Harry's ex-girlfriend. Well, sort of ex-girlfriend. He was guessing by her reaction that she did in fact like him at this point in her life. She hurried by the two of them and into the Great Hall, her cheeks her flushed and she glared at them as she walked by.

"I think Cho just had a heart attack," he whispered into Hermione's ear. She looked at Harry with a confused expression on her face.

"Why would she care if we're snogging in the hallway?"

"Jealous maybe? I don't know. Let's get going. Room of Requirement sound ok?"

"Room of what? I've never heard of such a thing. There's no reference to such a room in Hogwarts: A History!" How could Harry forget that they didn't find the Room of Requirement until his fifth year? That was the year Dolorus Umbridge was the Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher, and they needed a place to hold their meetings for Dumbledore's Army.

"Dobby told me about it. He calls it the come and go room. It's really quite fascinating. It's on the 7th floor. Let's go," he said as he smiled at her. He grabbed her hand and dragged her upstairs until they were in front of a large, blank wall.

"Harry, there's nothing here!" she said, looking at Harry like he'd grown a second head or claimed Voldemort was his father.

"Just think of a place, any place, that you want; a library, a sunny beach, anything. Walk past this spot three times, concentrating on exactly what you want." Hermione looked at him skeptically, but she did as he said.

She closed her eyes, and began pacing back and forth, concentrating on a place where they could talk privately and comfortably. After the third pass, she heard something coming from the wall. She opened her eyes, and her mouth fell ajar at what she saw. A large door had appeared where once there was only a wall.

"Oh my Harry!" she exclaimed as she opened the door. Harry chuckled at what he saw when he entered. It was no surprise that she would choose a cross between the library and the Gryffindor common room, complete with a comfy-looking couch and a roaring fireplace. Bookshelves lined the walls, a large coffee table was setting in front of the couch, and the room was decorated in Gryffindor red and gold.

"Brilliant Hermione."

"Thank you Harry. Now, what did you want to talk about? And how did you know about my feelings for you?" Hermione asked as she tossed her bag onto the floor next to the table. She walked over to the couch and sat on the right side, curling her legs beneath her, leaning against the arm. She looked up at him with an expectant look on her face. Her big brown eyes were looking directly at his, her gaze taking his breath away. He gave her a goofy grin, and she smiled radiantly back at him.

Harry paced back and forth in front of the fireplace, wringing his hands every few seconds and cracking his knuckles out of pure nervousness. His heart was racing and he was sweating profusely. Harry took a few deep breaths, trying to compose himself. He tried his best to come up with some sort of explanation for his actions in the Great Hall. How could he tell her without outright telling her everything? He was still somewhat confused about everything himself. Finally, he came up with an explanation that wasn't too far removed from the truth. He took one final deep breath, and began.

"First, what I'm about to say is going to be a lot to take in, and I know that you're going to have questions," he said as he paced back and forth, looking like he was talking to the carpet with his head down the entire time. "Knowing you like I do, probably a lot of them. So please, don't interrupt me. If I don't answer them in due course, I'll try my best to answer them afterward. Ok?" he finally looked up at her after he stopped pacing. Hermione simply nodded, her expression full of curiosity and confusion. He resumed his nervous pacing, and once again addressed the floor.

"Well, I had this kind of, dream. No. It was more than that... a vision... yeah..." he said as his hands were also talking loudly, gesturing a lot more than he realized. "It was way too real to be a dream. And in it, I just... knew. It was like someone took me aside, outside this world, and showed me... well... everything. They showed me how you really felt, and I already knew how I felt about you. It's always been there Hermione, my feelings for you. I just needed something to smack me in the head."

He swallowed hard, for he knew the next part was going to take a leap of faith on her part. For this though, he wanted to look her straight in the eye. He wanted to see how her eyes reacted to what he was about to say.

"And there's more... more than that..." He walked towards her, and sat on his knees, right in front of her so that he could look up at her, and properly gauge her reaction. "It seems we're... soul mates. Real soul mates." He held his breath, reaching out his hand and placing it on hers, which was sitting in her lap, awaiting her response.

Hermione, hanging on every word Harry was saying, had a look of shock and surprise when he mentioned the part about soul mates. She looked at him, raising her eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. When he didn't, she decided that is was all right speak.

"How do you know Harry, about us being soul mates? I mean, it'd be wonderful, because it might explain why I went so weak in the knees when you kissed me, but still. soulmates?" She looked at him with curiosity in her eyes while biting her lower lip, not the anger or indifference he half expected. Then, as if on cue, Harry smiled and chuckled; thankful he was in the Room of Requirement. He saw it appear out of the corner of his eye, and turned his head to look at it, breaking the eye-to-eye contract he had been sharing with Hermione.

Unsure of what Harry was smiling about, she followed his gaze, and discovered there was a book now sitting right next to her. A bookmark was hanging out of the top of it, begging her to turn to that page. She picked it up, placing it in her lap, and obliged the feeling inside her to open it to where it was marked. Harry got up off his knees and sat next to her where the book had appeared. She shifted on the couch, laying her legs across Harry's lap, propping the book up on stomach as she laid her head against the arm of the couch. After a couple of minutes, a smile appeared on Hermione's face.

"Harry! It's all about soul mates! It says that when soul mates first kiss, they become soul bonded! And a book at the Ministry of Magic records couples that are soul bonded. Oh Harry, do think it's true?" she said, laying the book down on her chest, the large grin on her face growing exponentially, looking at him like this new information would make her whole world explode with happiness.

"I think so 'Mione, but there's more I've got to tell you..." Harry paused. 'How much do I tell her? And how do I not sound crazy when I tell her? Maybe I'll break it up into bits. Maybe if she sees that I'm not crazy about the soulmate thing, then she'll believe everything else,' Harry thought to himself. Deciding that was the best course of action, he thought of only one way to confirm the entire soulmate thing. "Maybe we should see Dumbledore first, maybe we can see if it's true about us? Maybe it'll confirm my vision?"

Her eyes widened, "That's a great idea! Let's go see him now!" Hermione swung her legs off his lap and sat up, put the book in her book bag and threw it over her right shoulder, grabbed Harry by the hand, dragged him out of the Room of Requirement and headed to the Headmaster's office. As they reached the stone gargoyles, Harry waved his hand at the gargoyles, and muttered something that sounded like 'Chocolate Frog', and the couple was permitted to enter the Headmaster's office. They ran up the stairs and knocked on the door.

"Enter," came a voice from behind the door. As Harry and Hermione walked into Dumbledore's office, they let each other's hand go. Harry felt the warmth of her hand leave, and even after just that split second, he longed to hold it again. "Mr. Potter, Ms. Granger, to what do I owe the pleasure of your company?" the Headmaster said, addressing the two teenagers now standing before him.

Harry opened his mouth to speak, but instead, heard Hermione's voice speaking. "Professor, do you know anything about soul mates? And if so, is there anyway to find out if a couple are soul mates?" she asked as if her voice were sitting on the edge its seat.

Dumbledore walked out from behind his desk, and looked at Hermione, raising an eyebrow at her.

"If I may, Ms. Granger, respond to your questions with one of my own," he said as he leaned back against the front of his desk, folding his arms across his chest. "Why are you and Mr. Potter standing in my office asking me about soul mates?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other, then back to the Headmaster, and this time, it was Harry's turn to speak.

"Well Alb... Professor, I, kind of had vision last night. It was so... life like. I saw… a couple… who are friends of ours… kissing, and there was this light around them. The only thing that came to mind was the idea of soul mates. So... is there anyway to tell if a couple are soul mates?"

"Well," Dumbledore began, "the Ministry has a way of recording soul bonds. Whenever there is a soul bond, it is recorded in a book at the Department of Mysteries. If you'd like, I could make a quick request for you. The Minister does call on me quite a bit, I'm sure he'd oblige me. As they say, a street goes both ways, correct?" He walked across the room to his fireplace, pinched a dash of Floo Powder from a bag on the mantle, and threw it into the fire. In a loud, booming voice, he called out "The Minister's Office!"

Turning to the two teenagers behind him, he asked, "Do I need to ask of whom this couple is, or can I safely assume that they are standing before me?"

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and blushed. "That is all I needed to know," Dumbledore said as he smiled at them. "This may take awhile, might I suggest you take a seat?" He gestured towards a couple of chairs in the middle of his office, and stepped into the fire, disappearing from sight.

The "couple" walked over to the pair of chairs in front of Dumbledore's desk and sat down. They sat in silence, with every few moments glancing at each other, each time blushing just a little bit more. Harry's foot was next to Hermione's, and he decided to tap hers. She looked at him, raised an eyebrow at him, wondering why he did that. She gave him half a smile, and tapped his foot with hers. They grinned at each other, and soon began an intense game of footsie, both heavily concentrating on their respective feet.

Harry felt it was both wonderful and strange at the same time to be flirting with Hermione. He thought back to his previous life, and wondered why he didn't see it before. She had always been there for him, no matter what. She was his rock, and he was hers. They had always been there for each other in the best of times, and in the darkest. Now, here he sat, engaged in a teenage flirting game, and enjoying every single second of it.

In the middle of their little game, Harry reached out and grabbed Hermione's hand. They intertwined fingers, and let their hands fall in between the two chairs. Hermione felt a surge go through her body, a wave of emotions she'd never felt before. She looked at Harry, who was still concentrating heavily on their game, and sighed. She knew she always liked Harry, perhaps even loved him. She reminisced about their first kiss and how incredible it felt, and she couldn't imagine herself with anyone other than Harry. What surprised her was that thought made her feel more joy than anything before. She knew now that she was, unequivocally, in love with Harry Potter.

After a quarter of an hour, Dumbledore returned. Harry and Hermione stopped paying attention to each other and focused on the returning Headmaster. He wore a puzzled look his face. He walked in front of his desk and once again leaned up against it. He unrolled a piece of parchment, and began to read from it.

"At 10:13 this morning, a soul bonding took place in the Great Hall at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, between Harry James Potter and Hermione Jean Granger, officially making them Mr. and Mrs. Harry James Potter."