The Snake Trio

Chapter 1 - Trains and Trust

Hermione sighed loudly.

Her sigh was both dreamy and exasperated, both weary and anticipating.

She was going to Hogwarts!

Frankly, she had never felt more excited in her life. She was going to be with people like her! People who wouldn't think that she was weird, or Goth, or ugly. People who wouldn't care if she wore her oldest, darkest clothes and people who would be just like her!

Hermione snorted. She wasn't that naïve. She knew that there was bound to be prejudice, and she knew that she could not let herself trust easily, especially in this unknown, unanalysed world. She was obeying her motto even more than usual now.

She wore her best fitting black sweater (which just happened to be four sizes too big for her), and her best fitting black jeans (two sizes too big). Her once bushy hair had grown out in the last year, and was now settled in soft, dark curls that she had pulled back into a messy bun for the occasion. Her black boots were men's boots, the first she could find at a garage sale, and the shirt under her sweatshirt was a loosely fitting old thing, black, with the words 'Save the Plant Foundation' splashed across the front in faded, cracked red lettering.

Hermione was startled by the sound of a car horn tooting, and she looked out of King's Cross station entrance just in time to see her father barrelling past an old Ford Anglia (A/N yes that is Ron) in his dirty old scrapheap car. She caught sight of him in the front seat as he rounded a corner, taking a last look at her father as he disappeared from sight, beer in hand.

Taking a moment to compose herself, Hermione turned away from the last piece of her family she had with an air of grim finality hanging around her. She strode into the station, dragging her trunk behind her. She'd had to use some of the… stuff to get everything in. Her small, black and fawn kitten sat on her shoulder, blinking owlishly in the sudden light of the station.

Hermione approached the barrier between platforms nine and ten, took a deep a breath, and walked forwards. Professor McGonagall had told her that all she needed to do was run at the wall, and even though Hermione didn't trust her, she knew that this was her only chance. Hermione sped up, breaking into a run and bracing herself for the impact…

That didn't come. Hermione came to a halt, opened her eyes warily, and saw that she was no longer standing in the muggle world anymore.

A huge, red, gleaming steam engine was pulled on the tracks, billowing smoke that filled Hermione's nostrils like a flood. She walked towards it, lugging her trunk behind her, and looked down the train, taking in the atmosphere and subconsciously mapping out escape plans.

After learning all that she needed know, Hermione surreptitiously waved her hand over her trunk, shrinking it, and placed it in her sweatshirt pocket. She then hopped onto the scarlet train, and snuck stealthily down the corridor in the direction of a group of milling students. She blended in with the shadows enough to hear a few lines of conversation.

"I heard Harry Potter's coming to Hogwarts this year!"

"Oh! I bet he's so powerful!"

"Nah, he can't be! His mother was a mudblood! Draco Malfoy, he'll be one to look out for…"

Hermione snorted inwardly. Apparently, prejudice still ran deep in the Wizarding World after all. Walking away from the group, Hermione was so preoccupied that she didn't notice the two boys coming from different directions, heading for the same compartment as she was. She didn't notice them, and they didn't notice her, until all three of them reached out their hands and touched the door to the compartment, three hands touching one another.

A rush of pain ran up Hermione's arm, tendrils of agony pulling themselves up her arm until they reached the right side of her neck. The pain burned there for a couple of seconds, the dissipated. By the reactions of the other boys, Hermione knew that they had felt the pain as well.

The trio all stared at each other for what felt like an eternity. Then, as if by a silent agreement, they all pushed open the compartment door, stepping inside and locking it behind them. They all sat down, and observed each other carefully, all three of them sitting as far away from each other as possible.

The first of the boys was tall, lanky and red haired. He was pale, skinny and had a calculating face, like that of a chess master. He was wearing an old pair of ripped, dark jeans, a plain, navy shirt, and a brown canvas jacket. His large feet wear shoved inside dark brown boots, and his red hair was long and untameable, reaching his shoulders and seemingly burning on his head.

The second boy was slightly shorter, but much skinnier. He had raven-black hair, bright emerald eyes and pale, smooth skin. He was wearing a large grey t-shirt, and faded blue jeans that were sizes too big for him, and he had torn and cracked black trainers on his small feet. His hair was slightly longer than the first boy's, and it was tied back in a leather tie, half a dozen lone strands falling into his face.

Hermione could see the two boys observing her, just as she was them, and immediately was on guard. She tensed in her seat, drawing slightly away from the boys, and she could see them doing the same to her, and to each other. The second boy then turned to her, and looked her right in the eye.

She may have imagined it, but she thought that she could feel a slight pull in her mind…

After a few tense moments, the first boy spoke.

"I think I know what that was… I read about it last June." The boy paused, watching the other two with guarded trepidation. "It's called Persperone's Link, and it happens when two or more powerful wizards touch hands… But I never thought eleven year olds could be that powerful…"

The second boy looked from Hermione, to the first boy, and back again. Then, seemingly making a decision, he waved his hand slowly over the door, moving it for a few moments and then stilling and withdrawing his hand back to his lap.

"What did you-" Ginger started, but he was cut off by the second boy.

"Privacy charms, silencing charms, time slowing charms and illusion charms. Can't have anybody watching us, can we?" The boy narrowed his eyes, seemingly sizing the other two children up. Finally, he seemed to come to a decision that, by the look on his face, was against his better judgement. "What are your experiences with wandless magic?"

Hermione had not expected that.

There was a long silence which seemed to be suffocating the trio. Then, the first boy spoke.

"Been practicing it in secret since I was eight. Best thing I've ever done with it is conjuring my Soul Guide, Rah." The first boy looked between Hermione and the other boy, his eyes portraying an inner battle of emotions. Hermione decided that it was her turn. Here goes nothing.

"I started learning it when I was nearly eight, and I've never told anybody. The best thing I've done is meeting my Soul Guide, Decca. I've never conjured her, though."

Hermione and the red-haired boy both turned to the black-haired boy, looking at him expectantly.

He took in a deep breath, and said, "Same as him," he said, pointing at Ron with a pale hand. "Training since I was eight, conjured my Soul Guide, Daralus two years back."

The first boy, who Hermione had now picked up as the slightly more sociable one, spoke again.

"Well, I don't know about you guys, but this tension is killing me… How about some introductions?"

The train gave a lurch, and Hermione went tumbling straight into the black-haired boy's lap, arms flailing. Hermione felt one hand hit something soft, and Harry's chest rumbled in a grunt of pain. Hermione finally managed to pull herself off Harry, dusting herself off, and returning to her original spot. She looked up at Harry, and was abashed to see a large bruise flowering on his cheek. He raised a hand and felt his face, then sent a mock glare at Hermione.

"There was no need to punch me, Greenie."

The tension broke, and the kids all gave low, cautious laughs. Hermione could tell that she wasn't the only one with a dark past in the trio, so she spoke up first.

"I'm Hermione Granger, and I'm a muggleborn." This didn't earn her as many raised eyebrows as she'd expected, so Hermione continued. "I live in a small town near Briton (sp?), and I grew up with my dad. My neck is killing me, and I really want to see if there's anything there now."

With that, Hermione pulled off her huge black hoody, letting it fall onto the bench beside her. She felt a little embarrassed by her old 'Save the Plants Foundation' shirt, but nobody said anything. She yanked the neck down, and peered down at her bare neck.

A small, dark circle was etched into her pale skin, black and rough, like it had been hastily scribbled on. Inside the circle was a small, barely noticeable infinity sign. The other two occupants of the compartment gave soft gasps, the raven-haired boy letting out a long, low whistle. Almost immediately, the two boys lowered their shirts, revealing marks similar to hers. The red-haired boy had an eye implanted in his circle, and the other boy had a strange, triangular rune, with a circle and a vertical line inside it.

After a long pause, Ginger spoke again.

"Well, I guess I should introduce myself…" the boy steeled himself, and then carried on. "I'm Ron Weasley, second youngest of seven. I grew up with my parents and siblings, in a house near Ottery St. Catchpole. I'm a pureblood… Barely." That was all that Ron seemed like he was going to say, so Raven picked up the line from there.

"I'm… Harry Potter" he said reluctantly, as if expecting to be scolded. After a moment of silence, he carried on. "I grew up with my Aunt and Uncle in Surrey, and I think that the Wizarding world is stupid. Idiotic."

"I second that!" said Ron.

"And me!" Hermione said, before she had realised what she was saying, and blushed as the pair looked at her.

"Oh, look! Hermione Granger speaks willingly! Front page material, this!" said Ron, amusement shining behind his eyes.

"Oh, be quiet, Ron!" Hermione said, in an almost fond way. Almost. "It's true though! The wizarding world is truly idiotic! They never expand their knowledge; half of our textbooks are dated around the sixteenth century! They think that their better than muggles, but they still use quills, parchment and owls! No wizard-raised person I have ever even heard of has an innovative bone in their body! I mean, the wizarding community has just dug itself into a hole! They have Victorian methods, an idiotic, cowardly minister, and a biased court that's corrupted with pureblood supremacists! And they still think that they're better than muggles!" Hermione finished, surprised when the boys didn't blanch under her excess of knowledge, but nodded in agreement.

"Yeah, the Wizarding World needs a wakeup call," said Ron. "They have so many stereotypes, like 'muggleborns are weaklings', and 'Slytherins are evil'. I mean, you get sorted when you're eleven, and how can an eleven year old be evil?"

"I know!" put in Harry, who hadn't spoken in a while. "Everybody I met in Diagon expects me to be in Gryffindor because I'm the 'Boy-Who-Lived'! But honestly, I'm an ideal Slytherin! I'm ambitious, I'm resourceful and I'm sneaky! If I got sorted into Slytherin, maybe the wizarding world would come to their senses!"

"Yeah, same for me," said Hermione. "A muggleborn hasn't been Slytherin for over a century, and that's only because they are told that Slytherin are evil! But I am genuinely a Slytherin!"

"And me" Ron said, "None of my family have ever been in Slytherin, but I'm Slytherin through and through!"

There was then a long silence. None of the three had realised how much they were opening up to each other, and it was unnerving.

"Look" said Harry flatly after a moment's pause. "We are all mature, opinionated, smart and ambitious people. I can hardly call us kids, as I know that none of us are anymore. We can do great things." Harry turned to Ron. "Ron, your family may not be that respected, but you are a pureblood. You know a lot about wizarding culture, yes?" At Ron's nod, Harry continued, turning to Hermione. "Hermione, you have a lot of knowledge on muggle sciences, yes? Physics?" Hermione nodded the affirmative, so Harry went on. "And I have been reading up on theories about how magic works ever since I found out I was a wizard. If we worked together, we could revolutionise the wizarding world! We could rid it of stereotypes, and biases!" Harry finished, and honestly, Hermione found a lot of sense in his words.

"Well, we would need a name… If we're going to change the world we need a name." Ron said, looking as though he was in deep thought.

"How about 'Lustitia Intulimus'?" Hermione said, grabbing the attention of Harry and Ron immediately. "It means 'We Brought Justice' in Latin." (A/N pronounced 'use-tih-tee-ah in-too-lee-moos')

"Yes," said Ron after a moment. "That sounds good."

"Ok…" said Harry. "We could start with a wizarding stationary shop. It could sell muggle stationary, wizard stationary, charmed stationary. I could rent out a place in Diagon Alley, I do have enough money. I've also been looking up some wizard laws for the Noble and Ancient houses, and, since I'm the Lord of the House of Potter, I could take you two as my wards, to get you away from your abusive family members."

The reaction to this sentence was immediate.

"What?!" said Ron, flabbergasted. "How do you know?! What-?" Ron started to rant, but was cut off by the sight and sound of Harry laughing grimly, the smile on his face not reaching his eyes.

"I notice things, Ron," said Harry. "The way your mother held onto your arm tightly enough to bruise as you walked into King's Cross. The way your eyes dart around for an escape whenever you're around her." Harry directed his attention to Hermione. "The way the skin on your neck is tight, a sign of excessive bruising. The way you came into Kings Cross with your guard up, and your eyes constantly assessing the situation. I notice things, and I know you two do as well. That's why I think we would make a good team."

"Well, I think that a stationary shop is good, but what about an enchantments shop?" said Ron. "I have a brother who has lost his job as a curse breaker, and he could surreptitiously get offered a job as head enchanter at the Lustitia Intulimus shop. He's really good!"

"Wait, wait, wait!" said Hermione, "Don't you think we're going too fast? I mean, I like the Idea of a revolution, and I think we're all capable, but… We're eleven…" she finished uncertainly.

Harry flashed her a bright grin. "Of course we're going to fast, but would you really like it any other way?" he asked. "We all have a connection because we've grown up in harsh, abusive atmosphere. We are all linked together by this 'Perspone's Link'" (here, Harry gestured to his neck) "We are all ambitious, we are all smart, powerful and strong. I ask you again, would you really like it any other way?" Harry finished.

Hermione honestly couldn't.

Ron stepped in now. "You said that there were time slowing charms on the compartment door?" At Harry's nod, Ron continued. "How much time has passed outside the compartment?"

Harry checked his watch.

"Three minutes, and we've been talking for thirty."

This is going to be the start of something great.

0o0o0o0

Five hours later (or fifty hours later for our favourite trio), the students started clambering off the train, bleary eyed, squinting into the darkness that contrasted the light of the train. Harry, Hermione and Ron climbed off the huge scarlet locomotive, sticking tightly to each other. A lot had changed in the fifty hours they had spent in the compartment. They had finalised their plans, and had sent and received many owls from Gringotts, Diagon Alley and muggle stationary shops that must have been extremely bemused at the sight of a snowy white owl sending and receiving business propositions. The three children who left the train owned a joint Gringotts vault (under the names Decca, Rah and Daralus Kataskevastits*), two small side-shops in Diagon Alley (complete with linking secret passages and a small flat), and a small custom wand shop in Knockturn. They had bought it off the owner, who had seemed happy enough to be rid of it, and they planned to put an advert in the Prophet about hiring wandcrafters as soon as possible.

On the train, Harry, Ron and Hermione had transfigured all of their muggle clothes, parchment, quills, pens, paper, trunks, and other possessions with wandless magic, and now they were a smooth black, each playing host to small, silver logos. The logo the three had decided on for the Lustitia Intulimus was an equal, neat circle that held the strange rectangular rune, the infinity sign and the eye interlocked with each other. The words 'Lustitia Intulimus' were written in neat, archaic print at the bottom of their parchments, on the top of their trunks and the along the seams of their muggle clothes. They received many strange looks as they exited the train, many eyes drawn to their black and silver trunks, and black owl cages. But they didn't care.

"Firs' yea's! Firs' yea's over 'ere!"

Hagrids voice rang through the milling students like a foghorn, and the three children made their way over to it, staying at the back so not to be noticed. They surreptitiously shrunk their trunks and cages wandlessly, and transfigured them into silver rings which they pulled onto their smallest fingers. They then looked each other up and down, observing each other for any remaining evidence of suspicious activity.

They had changed since they got on the train. It was only subtle, but it was noticeable. The leather tie in Harry's hair was now black, rather than the burgundy it had been. The string holding Hermione's hair up in a bun had been transfigured into an elegant silver ribbon. Ron's wand holster was now black and silver, just visible under his sleeve. Apart from that, the trio looked the same as when they had first got on the train.

The nervous first-years followed Hagrid towards the wooded boats that hovered on the clear water, settling into them with slight trepidation. Harry, Ron and Hermione settled into a raft with a talkative, blonde girl, who seemed to realise soon after the boats had set off that Harry, Ron and Hermione didn't want to talk, and fell into silence.

Soon the boats reached the shore, and the three clambered out, sticking close to each other again. They followed Hagrid as he approached the castle doors, and knocked loudly, three times.