"First time I heard the pop of a gun? Easy, I was five. First time I shot? You need harder questions, I was six. First time I got caught in cross fire? Simple, eight, got caught between two gangs; still have a scar on my shoulder too. When did I join a gang? I was eleven. First time I was in a shootout? No comment. You want me to tell you my affiliation? No way in Hell." The girl clammed up like the gang-girl she was. The officers stared in frustration, she was new, they'd never even heard of this girl before now; which boded very badly for the officers if she was telling the truth and she had been in a gang since she was eleven.

"What do you do for the gang? Are you a prostitute, do you dance?" The girl was glaring at him like she was hoping for him to burn. The girl immediately turned her body away from the detective. The group behind the one way window sighed in defeat, once a suspect's body language closed off there was no way you get information out of them. They watched as the girl pulled out a cigarette from her pocket.

All the officers watched as she turned her body from their line of sight for a second and settled into the corner blowing smoke towards the ceiling.

"Can we hold her?" the squad captain asked looking at the calm girl before him.

"No, she gave us answers, but nothing that would incriminate her. For all we know this girl doesn't even exist, no name, no age , her fingerprints weren't on any database, we don't even have a nickname to search; even if we did I doubt she'd be on any list we have, she's too smart for that. I mean think about it, we wouldn't have even found her if a double homicide hadn't happened next door." The captain walked into the interrogation room and looked at the girl, really it was a shame, she was too pretty to be wasting her life.

"You're free to go." She stood up and smiled at him, the cigarette held between her fingers delicately.

"Next time you want to gamble on something, I suggest cards so much easier." With that she walked out of the interrogation room and out of the police station like nothing had happened.

A black car pulled up beside the girl as she walked down the street. "Coming Charm?" the girl in the drivers seat asked, smirking.

"Yup." Hermione answered flicking her cigarette butt down a gutter grate and into the sewers. "Let's get out of here Cynthia." the sleek door slammed behind her and the car took off, a silver sports car and a shiny red convertible keeping pace just behind and to the right of it.

The strobe lights flashed as the bass rumbled through the floor, the music was deafening, alcohol was pouring liberally. Hermione knew better than to accept any, she would be exhausted in the morning anyway, no need to add a hangover to the mix. She banished thoughts of Hogwarts and the train tomorrow with a simple roll of her eyes, preferring to lose herself in the mob and the burning guitar.

She growled as light hit her eyes the next morning, her alarm sounding a backup incase the sun decided to sleep in today. With a groan, Hermione heaved herself out of her bed and into the small kitchen where a cup of purple liquid sat waiting for her on the counter. With a grimace she quickly downed the bad-tasting potion, sighing in contentment as the headache that had been building behind her eyes disappeared and she felt much needed energy pour into her tiered mind and body. Gratefully she picked up the decanter that sat, sealed, next to the cup, a years supply of the pick-me-up all filed away into a compact little bottle; she put the decanter into her little shoulder bag along with a shot glass, both disappearing into the seemingly endless depths. With a flick of her fingers her already packed trunk shrunk down so she could tuck it away in her bag as well. One last thing to do before she left. She silently slipped into Aaren's room and kissed him quickly, knowing full well he had just gotten home, exhausted from work, and poured her glass of potion.

She disappeared with a sharp crack, appearing in an alley just outside of Kings Cross Station. She hurried into the station and to platform nine and three-quarters, managing to board the crimson engine just as it sounded its whistle and pulled away. She found an empty compartment and collapsed across one of the benches, allowing herself to slip into blissful sleep as the effects of the pick-me-up wore off.

A piercing sound filled the compartment, waking her instantly, Hermione answered her phone the tiredness of earlier completely gone.

"We might be crashing this year, the police are getting way to interested in us, nosing into things they shouldn't be." Aaren said without even a hello.

"Good morning to you too." Hermione said, attempting not to laugh. Aaren did laugh.

"Sorry, Charm. Morning. How was the concert last night?" He asked, seeming to calm down a little.

"It was amazing! Thanks for the pick-me-up this morning though I needed it. How was work?'

"Same as usual, hard but rewarding we…" He was cut off by shouting at the door. "Shit, gotta go. Love you." He said hurriedly, Hermione heard the distinctive crash of a breaking door.

"Stay safe." She said as he hung up. She locked the compartment and drew the shades so she could change into her school robes. Hermione winced as she stretched the new, shiny pink, scar tissue on her shoulder. After she had donned her robes she sat back down and pulled a book out of her bag, settling in for the remainder of the train ride.

Aaren was running attempting to stay off police radar, ducking into alleys and up fire escapes, gathering the rest of the gang. They followed without objections, they knew it was safer to run when people started getting nosey, easier just to have a grab bag ready so they could run. Untraceable, offshore accounts didn't hurt either. The eight foot chain-link fence greeted them, without hesitation Aaren cupped his hands so he could toss Cynthia and Razael over, Michael just climbed the fence, Matthew was already waiting on the other side along with Seth the cars already running. With one last look back, Aaren too climbed the fence, jumped into his red Lamborghini, following the others example by hitting the gas, and disappeared in to thin air.

Tires squealed in protest as the cars reappeared and were braked, Aaren spinning his 180 degrees to face the others. With a nod, all the cars were shrunk and put into bags or pockets, backpack were dawned and duffels were picked up, with practiced ease the group walked up the hidden path and into the dilapidated house.

The sorting had been shorter this year than in years past, mothers were reluctant to relinquish their children even if Voldemort was dead. Fear had spread like disease, and like every fever, it must get worse before it could get better. Hermione was tiered, she was so tiered. Dumbledores' speech had passed in one ear and out the other, she just wanted to sleep. The charms on her bracelet began to heat up, an indicator that the others were close, Hermione smiled.

This year was gonna be fun.

A.N. Here it is even though I haven't finished Changeling, I felt like I should put this out here.