Summary: What do you get when you mix a stressed Hermione, an irate Malfoy, three new Order members, all of whom have eyes for the bookworm, suspicious best friends, and a mystery yet to be solved? Full fledged insanity. SAME STORY, DIFFERENT SUMMARY. Enjoy!

A/N: This is only the Prologue to a much longer story, so please don't think this is how long each chapter will be. I'll try and have the first chapter up tomorrow. Until then, reviews are much appreciated! IMPORTANT INFO: Please don't be put off by the prologue, since it doesn't specify characters, everything will tie in in the end. I promise you that :P


Prologue

"Mummy, will you read a bedtime story to me?" a young girl inquired of her busy mother.

The older of the two females looked down into her daughter's brown eyes, and then glanced back at her work, sighing. This report was never going to finish itself, sadly enough, but the young mother always vowed that she would put her children before everything; which included work.

"Of course, Love," she answered as she rose from her chair and followed the jubilant girl to the vast bookshelf, "What will it be tonight? Plato? Socrates?"

"No mummy," the little girl laughed, "Read me a princess story!"

"Are you sure? You might be getting to brilliant for mere kiddy tales, darling," the mother smiled, remarking the curly hair brunette's incredible aptitude for knowledge and reading.

"I'm sure," the girl said, "I want a tale of a princess in need of her brave and handsome prince."

"All right, how about Snow White?"

At this suggestion, the little girl shook her head.

"Okay," her mother said, rummaging through the shelves further, "What about Sleeping Beauty?"

Again, the girl shook her head.

"Cinderella?"

Once more came the same blunt refusal.

"Hmmm, you're being as stubborn as your father, you know that don't you?"

The little girl grinned at her father, who sat reading the paper on the other side of the room. He looked up and winked. "More like as stubborn as your mum," he whispered, feigning sneakiness.

"I heard that!"

Their daughter laughed happily at their funny argument. She knew they were only joking.

"How about the tale of the Princess who kissed the Frog?" The girl snapped her head back to her mother, her brow raised skeptically.

"Mummy!" she sounded absolutely appalled, "Princesses don't kiss frogs!"

"Now how do you know that?"

"Well, have you ever kissed a frog?" the girl demanded in a huff.

"You might say that I have," quipped the woman knowingly, "Your Dad was quite the grouchy wart before I married him."

"Oh, ha, ha," they heard from behind the paper. Both girls bent their heads together in hushed giggles.

"The point is, my dear," she continued to explain to her curious little one, "Love comes in the strangest forms, and we shouldn't be so quick to judge what we first see. Someone may first seem cold and prickly, but may turn out warm and cuddly."

The woman decided not to tell her that this concept worked vice versa, wishing not to bother her innocence with the fact that there were deceivers in the world. Besides, given her daughter's adeptness, she was sure she'd figured this out already.

"I suppose you're right mummy," the girl mumbled, "All I know is that I want a kind and handsome man to marry me someday. Someone who will treat me right. Someone who will let me cry on his shoulders, and then wipes the tears away. Someone who will laugh and smile with me, and take equal care of my babies. He'll be a gentleman."

Her mother stared in wonder down at her serious daughter. She was used to this sort of thing, but it still filled her with awe when the five year old exuded wisdom beyond her years. Of course, as parents, she and her husband always instilled that men should respect women, and women should do the same to men, but it never exceeded beyond simple etiquette; things such as "Please" and Thank you" or, no hitting or name-calling. The girl spoke as if she'd been through the hellfire of a disastrous relationship and refused to tread those waters again. As if she was just waiting for her daring prince to rescue her.

"And you should wait for just that," she nodded, "Never settle for less than your truest love, sweetie."

The tiny girl shook her head in agreement, and then smiled.

Her mother glanced back at her husband, who was surveying their daughter with the same intensity she had been showing. He met his wife's gaze and gave her the tiniest of smiles before returning to his paper.

The mother cleared her throat. "All right, are you ready for your story?"

"Yes mummy, I'm ready to hear of the frog." Her mother stood to reach the particular book. As she did so, the girl whispered to herself, smiling, "I'm ready to hear of the prince."