Chapter 1

Hermione wasn't in the best of spirits. Last week, she and Ron had a big fight. Probably the biggest yet. Of course, Harry took Ron's side. So here she was, alone, on Christmas eve, while her best friend, and the man she now considered her ex, were opening gifts and eating the dinner she had prepared. Sometimes the world isn't justifiable. Hermione rubbed her temples, and stared into her brandy. What better a place to escape to then the muggle world where magic didn't exist.

Ever since Harry had defeated Voldemort, everything went back to normal. Well, almost everything. Once in a while, she'd see a dark shadow from something that wasn't there. Furry outlines of a man, or just an unexplained set of footprints that seemed to mysteriously appear whenever Ron wasn't home, and unless she had a faulty memory, no guests would ever have been. Or would here chattering in an empty room and unexplained mad laughter or giggles. It made her think that she was going mad. Which she had every right to be, in her case.

A loud noise, much like a piece of glass cracking, sounded behind her. Hermione immediately reached for her wand, that was, ironically not there. She had left it at home, trying to forget magic tonight. Hermione was mute a second, then turned back around in her seat. It was just two bikers, breaking pool sticks and screaming in each others faces. Nothing out of the usual for this bar. The next minute,she did see something odd.

Hermione had paid the bartender, wanting to leave before the fight got too bad. And there he was. In the corner. A man with a quick, dangerous smile, that held onto the brim of his hat with a sense of accomplishment. When he noticed she as watching, he held out his hand, and waggled his fingers. As if to say "what are you waiting for?" being ever-careful, Hermione turned around and left out the front door, clutching tightly to her handbag. No way she was going to follow whoever that man was. She was not a stupid girl from one of those horror flicks. She was 23 for Merlin's sake!

She jumped on the first bus she could, taking her anywhere away from the bar. She couldn't go home, heaven's no! Not even to get a change of clothes. As far as she was concerned Ron and her was over. She'd have to stay at the Leaky Cauldron, or a muggle hotel. She sighed. The only thing she had was muggle money, and Gringotts wasn't open this time of night to exchange it for Wizard coins. Hotel it was. She took her ticket, and sat down. Hermione looked around at the rest of the bus, finding most seats empty.

There he was. It wasn't possible. He couldn't of possibly got on the bus before her. There wasn't enough time. He was relaxing in the back seat, legs crossed and hands behind his head, whistling a tune. He smiled again at her, then indicated that she should come over with the cocking of his finger. Hermione got up, and grabbed the pole in the middle of the bus, near close to hyperventilating. She didn't of course, but it was only by magic that this man could have possibly followed her. She was a muggleborn, it could be some leftover from the death eater rabble, still hunting down and killing them.

"Who are you?" she asked, taking a step back, still holding on to the pole. If he was a wizard, she'd be in trouble. He chuckled, sounding as mischievous as the Cheshire cat himself.

"That's always their first question." His voice was smooth and even, reminding he of a certain Slytherin she used to know. Hermione looked at the bus driver, who didn't seem to notice anything out of the ordinary. The man got up, careful about holding the front of his fedora that looked like it sprung out of a gangster movie. He had shaggy blond hair, that was tied back in a thin ponytail. All she could see of his face was a wicked smile. He threw his arms out dramatically, hat staying remarkably low on his face.

"I am the one, the only," he bowed, his left foot extended. "Trick."

"What do you want with me?" She moved back again, and started moving back to the front of the bus.

"I?" he feigned innocence. "I want nothing. It's you who are in need of something dear."

"And what would that be?" he chuckled again.

"Normally I'd say a night in my bed," she glared at him, "but considering the situation, I think not."

"You aren't making much sense."

"I do not tend to make much sense." he waved a hand dismissively, keeping his head low. "But as that is not the matter at hand, lets avoid the topic." She looked at him, suspicious, shouldn't she be at the front of the bus already? She hadn't sat that far back...her eyes widened. She hadn't gone anywhere.

"Wh-what the? What kind of spell is this?" she froze. He waggled his finger, smiling wider if it was possible.

"You needn't worry about that, we're here to talk about you." he held his chin in his hands, propping his elbows on an invisible table. "You are rather bored with your life, aren't you?"

"No!" she glared at him furiously. She saw from the look in his eyes that she had answered too quickly for his taste.

"Now now, we all know that it's true." she continued glaring at him. "You are an investigative soul, not one to be cooped up in surroundings such as these," he glanced around, "mundane, boring." he drew the words out.

"You don't know anything!" she spoke calmly, willing herself not to punch him in the face. He ignored her.

"Lucky for you, I'm here." he pointed at each of them in turn.

"How so?" he tilted his hat, and spoke in an exuberant fashion.

"I have come to free you! Give you a vacation, if you want to see it that way."
"I don't need a vacation." He sighed.

"Don't be like that..."he went all innocent again. This guy was really irritating her. "We all know that you love to learn. Why, that's why I thought you'd like it! It's not everyday you get to see history up close and personal."

"What do you mean?" he picked up on her interest.

"Well, I'd send into the past. Let you meet the founders, have a field day with it!" he giggled.

"That's not possible." Faster then she could see, the man allegedly called 'Trick had her around the waist.

"Why don't you judge the possibility of that when you get there? Hm?" He tilted his hat up and she saw dark, mesmerizing purple eyes.

"Get your h-hands..." she feinted in his grasp.

"I knew you'd see it my way." At this point the bus driver stopped the bus, and looked back at him, light brown braid swaying.

"Was that necessary?" He put Hermione in a seat, then stood up and fixed his hat.

"Of course it was." She turned around muttering to herself.

"Drama queen." Then they drove off into the night.

Can anyone guess who 'Trick' is? Read and Review please! This is my first attempt at a Harry Potter fanfic! Oh, and sorry. No Draco for the fangirls in this chapter. I promise the next one will be longer. PLLLLLEEEEEAAAASSSSEEE REVIEW! I CAN'T GET TO ANY DRACOXHERMIONE WITHOUT THEM!