Authors Note: Okay, so mind you…I only got one review, but I fret not since it WAS a rather short Prologue…but then again that's what it was…a prologue…they aren't suppose to be as long as normal chapters are they?

This story might move a bit fast, but not to fast that your like 'whoa what? When did this happen?' Well, let's continue on shall we?

Oh! And before I forget…I will put my 'Disclaimer' once and only once, it's rather pointless to put one every single chapter. So, without further adieu:

DISCLAIMER: I hereby disclaim any character created and published by one J. K. Rowling, in her book series 'Harry Potter'. Any character's that have not appeared in her series of books 'Harry Potter' are naturally owned by my self, unless I disclaim otherwise.

CHAPTER ONE

Lo! 't is a gala night

Within the lonesome latter years.

An angel throng, bewinged, bedight

In veils, and drowned in tears,

Sit in a theatre to see

A play of hopes and fears,

While the orchestra breathes fitfully

The music of the spheres.

Nimble fingers danced gracefully across the marble slabs of white and black, the combinations of high and lower and fast and slower ting's turning into a beautiful symphony of music, the notes dancing in the air, weeping with the joy of their birth, the joy of the song, yet weeping for the sad melody that laced its way through the end, gripping the heart of the player who squeezed out a lonesome tear; it dropped rather lifeless on the white marble of a key.

It was a lovely antique looking thing; its cherry wood face was a masterpiece in itself, tall and elegant. Cherubs were carved into the top to look down upon the players of its keys, they're chubby cheeks set into a youthfully innocent smile, their cherry finish making them shine. The key's, they were the plain white and black marble; keys found on any piano…new or old, each letting out its own specific level of gracefully beautiful music when it was punched.

The notes sped up into a concoction of melancholy, gripping the heart in a sad sort of way; the player let out a sob which led to a small chain of reactions. After the sob there was a screech of fowl notes as her hands fell rather uselessly onto the piano's keys. The fowl notes and the sobbing of the sad girl caused the others in the room to pull out of their own minds and look at her with their piteous glances, then with a sad shake of their heads they went back to staring at their hands numbly.

Everyone (maybe around twenty people crowded in the living room, kitchen and den) was dressed in a variety of black and dark gray, women wore black veils over their teary faces, and black gloves over their hands. They all wore sad faces at the reception to the funeral of two very well loved individuals: Mr. and Mrs. Granger. It had been a tragic how it happened. The parents of Miss Hermione Anne Granger had been driving from a convention in London to their home. But they never made it. At a rather busy intersection, a large speedy truck had come and struck them down, and in a foul swoop of misfortune, left the soon to be Head Girl parentless and lonely.

However, through her great ordeal, her two friends and the two most loving families had welcomed her with open arms. Before she was shipped off to the orphanage since she was still under aged, the Potter family had adopted her. The Weasley's offered, but Hermione didn't want to put any more strain on their financial state. The Potters were well off and friends of the Weasley's and the late Grangers.

Of course, her parents were always one to think ahead in case of emergencies, had already written their Will's at their young age, not even reaching 40. They had left Hermione a good chunk of their money, some of their stock and bonds, and the house and her favorite car, and their family pets; two dogs, a cat and a couple fish. The rest of what her parents owned was evenly distributed through the rest of the close family; they were a wealthy couple…very money smart.

Harry Potter and Ron Weasley looked up from their cups of tea – which was offered graciously by one of Hermione's Aunts – at the sound of their dear friends crying. Casting each other and sad look, they set down their tea cups and sat on either end of the piano bench, cocooning the curly haired weeper in their strong loving arms. Tears leaked onto the sleeves of their shirts, but they paid it no mind; she could drench them in her tears and they wouldn't have budged. Pressing their heads against her own, whispering sweet comforts into her unresponsive ear, and rubbing soothing circles on her back was all that they could do. As unresponsive as she was, she greatly appreciated them not trying to mend her hurting heart.

Soon, sobbing turned to weeping, weeping turned to sniffling and sniffling turned to quite and slow breaths that signaled their friend's departure to the world; tears were like a poison to the wakeful eye.

Harry tapped Ron on the arm, causing the red head to look up. "Can you take her to bed Ron? I'm going to inform her aunt that she's asleep," the person in question nodded his head and quickly picked up the slip of a girl, barely using any strength to do so as he walked upstairs with her bridal style in his strong arms. Harry made his way over to the aunt that offered them their tea; she had a handkerchief dabbing her eyes that continued to leek tears like a leaky faucet. When she spotted him, she gave a small smile and sniffed.

"Harry dear, how is my niece? It must be horrible on her, losing her parents like that; and only a week before her 17th birthday. That poor dear," her accent was almost American; it still carried a little British quality to it. Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes.

"She cried herself to sleep. I had Ron carry her to her bed, thought I'd let you know," His voice was strained with his sympathy for Hermione. He couldn't imagine what it would be like to lose his parents. Right now they were sitting at him with his brother and sister, probably waiting on a letter from him.

"Alright dear, the reception should be over soon anyway. Why don't you and Ron take the spare bedroom tonight, we'll send you home tomorrow, and send Hermione there in about a week, once the adoption papers are signed and she's packed everything she needs," she said softly, giving him a slight nudge towards the stares. Harry nodded his head and made his way over to Hermione's room, intending to send an owl to the Weasley's to let them know him and Ron were staying the night.

Upon entering the room, he noticed Ron kneeling by the bed, stroking her hand as if she were on a hospital bed, dying. Harry tapped him on the shoulder, "Come on mate, her aunt said we could take the spare bedroom tonight. I'm going to owl your parents now to let them know." With that Harry promptly went over to their friend's desk and wrote a note to the Weasley's. He didn't write one to his parents because he was staying at the Weasley's for a few weeks for summer.

Mimes, in the form of God on high,

Mutter and mumble low,

And hither and thither fly;

Mere puppets they, who come and go

At bidding of vast formless things

That shift the scenery to and fro,

Flapping from out their Condor wings

Invisible Woe!

It was a month before school started and Hermione had come out of her shell, thanks to all the love and supports her friends and extended family had given her. Her sudden bouts of crying had started to lessen, though she still let out a few tears at night. But no one had really given her time to think about her parents' death. They never brought it up, and if she suddenly started crying, the closest person there would wrap her in their arms tightly and give her a shoulder to cry on.

Now they were all in a big group doing their pre-Hogwarts shopping. Hermione had been made Head Girl, a very honorable title given only to seventh year students who had worked their hardest and had gotten outstanding grades in every year. She always got her assignments done the night it was given, and hit almost every point dead on. She would probably have read every book on the list they were about to get and memorize it before they even started packing for Hogwarts.

"'Mione! Over here 'Mione!" shouted Ron Weasley, hands cupped over his mouth. The Golden Trio had grown impossibly close after this last misfortune. They all were like one big family, but the three of them had made such a strong bond, it surpassed even that of the naughty Marauders, one being Harry's father, the other being the ever mischievous Sirius Black (his wife can't even keep him in check).

The curly headed girl turned her head in the direction her name was being called. Giving a bright smile thinking she had lost them, she quickly trotted towards them; all of her school item's magicked into miniature form to fit her pockets. "Can we go to the Ice Cream Parlor Mr. Weasley? My treat," asked a smiling Hermione as she got there. Her smile was starting to get more genuine since her rough ordeal. She watched him give a defeated sigh before nodding with a smile. "Thank you! Come on guys!" she waved to her friends as they stormed the Ice Cream Parlor, a perfect treat for such a dripping humid day.

They were all laughing at each others jokes when Hermione felt the prying of eyes upon her back. Giving an agitated sigh and quickly turning around to meet the eyes of her observer, her honeyed eyes met with a fierce blue. Breath caught in her throat as she met the scowl of an almost savagely handsome man. Why was he watching her? Did she know him? No, she highly doubted she did, she would remember someone with such a dark beauty.

"'Mione? Are you listening?" inquired Ginny Weasley, Ron Weasley's fun loving little sister who had the biggest crush on Harry Potter since his first visit to the Weasley's house the summer after First year. Hermione laughed nervously.

"Sorry. Just, that guy over there keeps staring at me. It's making me rather nervous," whispered Hermione. Her three companions looked over her shoulders, but saw nothing. There wasn't even anyone in the general direction she pointed.

"Uh…Hermione. There's no one even over there. Are you feeling alright? Not going bonkers are we?" Ron teased, pressing the back of his hand to her forehead to check her temperature. Hermione swatted it away in annoyance.

"I know what I saw. He was there just a second ago. He had long shaggy brown hair, a beard and these fierce blue-gray eyes. The way he was looking at me felt like he was going to eat me," this last statement caused her to shudder, clutching her shirt around her neck like it was revealing too much cleavage for her licking. The three looked at each other like they all thought their friend had gone mad. This was an Ice Cream Parlor…what on earth would such a shady character be doing in such a lively place?

However, no one brought the subject up again, not wanting the queer tension to get any more…tense. They all ate their treats before leaving in a rush; it was way past time to meet Mr. Weasley. As they made their way out, Hermione bumped into someone…someone much larger than herself. Giving a squawk, she began to fall before being pulled back up to a strong chest. "Eep!" was all she could let out, her hands and face resting on the chest in astonishment. It took only a moment to recover from her slight scare.

"My apologize miss. I did not see you. What a shame it would be for someone with such beauty to be hurt," purred a deep, very male voice. Hermione blinked and could feel her face heat up. She gave an unsteady giggle before pushing away from him, fighting with his arms (they were wrapped rather firmly around her waist) to let her go.

"Oi! Get your bloody hands off of her you pervert!" Growled an over protective Ron Weasley, his fists clenched firmly. The arms around her waist fell, giving her room to move back. She looked up at the face of the man, before blushing and going ridged. It was the same guy who had been staring at her in the Parlor.

"I meant no harm, I was just making sure she had her footing before letting her go," the man was looking down his nose at Ron with a sneer, a look that clearly stated, 'You don't stand a chance against me boy'.

"W-well thank you sir, but me and my friends need to be going. I'm sorry about running into you," Hermione stuttered, her blushing cheeks still evident under the curtain of hair hiding her eyes from view. She tugged on Harry and Ron's sleeves before walking off in a speed walk.

When they were at a safe distance away from the man, Hermione let out a breath she didn't even know she was holding. "What a pedophile! That guy looked as old as Charlie!" Ginny blubbered with a giggle, poking Hermione in the ribs. She looked at her uneasily.

"Guys...that was the same guy that was staring at me in the Parlor," exclaimed Hermione uneasily. They all went quiet, staring at her in disbelief.

"Well...looks like someone has a stalker," Harry joked rather lamely. Hermione gave him a strained smile – if it could be called such…it was more like forming her lips in a straight line and furrowing her brows. Ron tugged on her sleeve, leading her over to their meeting place with Mr. Weasley.

"Finally! I thought you kids would never show up…say, what's with all the strained faces?" quipped Weasley senior. Hermione scratched her arm and let out an apprehensive laugh, looking away and Ron gave him a scowl.

"Some creepy guy in the Parlor was staring at Hermione, than practically knocked her down when we came to meet you. He called her beautiful and wouldn't let her go," He grounded out like someone had slapped him in the face. Mr. Weasley arched an eyebrow.

"I'm sure it was nothing. But if you see him again Hermione, you make sure to tell me right away okay?" Though Hermione felt a little odd about the situation, she didn't feel like she needed to tell Mr. Weasley about it. They were probably just over reacting; but something about the way that man stared at her just rubbed her the wrong way. "Well come on then. I'm sure the Potters are wondering where you two are and Mum's probably put something good on the pot tonight," Mr. Weasley said, rubbing his hands together in anticipation. It was Saturday; she usually cooked something good on Saturday (though all of her cooking was good).

That motley drama – oh, be sure

It shall not be forgot!

With its Phantom chased for evermore,

By a crowd that seize it not,

Through a circle that ever returneth in

To the self-same spot;

And much of Madness, and more of Sin,

And Horror the soul of the plot.

Harry and Hermione flooed home; being met by Mr. and Mrs. Potter. "So did you get everything?" asked Lily Potter. Harry and Hermione nodded their heads in the affirmative. "Good…best get washed up for dinner than," she ushered them up the stairs. Half way up they had to veer to the side in order to escape being trampled by the twins, a boy and a girl. The boy, Eric, took after their father James; messy jet black hair and all. Rose, the girl, took after their mother and could have been mistaken for a member of the Weasley clan with her fiery red hair, which – if it were at all like their mothers – would start to darken into a darker auburn. Rosa had her father's eyes, and Eric had his mothers…like Harry. Hermione always thought the Potter family was ass backwards…not at all in a bad way.

"Hey! Slow down before you fall down," agitated Harry, grabbing Eric by the scruff of his shirt, Hermione doing the same for Rose. They both struggled with the little tikes all the way back down the stairs.

"Geoff me you great lump!" Rose struggled out, trying to get Hermione's firm hand off her shirt, Eric imitating her.

"You know what mum would say if she caught you running like that, you dolt!" said Harry with authority. With a little shake to the back of his baby brother's shirt, he added "Now go on – slowly! – before I tell mum that you two need to go without supper tonight," he threatened. The two 11 year olds turned out as soon as they were out of reaching distance, and stuck their tongues out at the two 17 year olds; they also stuck their thumbs to their temples and wiggled their other fingers in the hair, shaking their rumps in an odd little dance, before running away laughing. Hermione and Harry just looked at each other before shaking their heads.

The two teens made their way up the stairs to finish what they started; to wash their hands and change their clothes. Hermione made her way to the room she shared with Rose and Harry to the one he shared with Eric. It was a relatively new arrangement, since they adopted Hermione, Harry moved in with his little brother, making his old room a guest room…Mr. and Mrs. Potter were currently remodeling it, to make any guest they had more comfortable.

Supper at the Potters house was always a treat, Mrs. Potter being one out of two of the best chefs they knew; the other being Molly Weasley. James had offered to get a house elf to help Lily around the house, but she was adamantly against the idea. She didn't need help with such trivial things. It's not like they owned a castle for heavens sake…just a small Manor that could easily be kept with a few spells and whatnot.

"So, how was Diagon Alley?" James' deep voice asked as he peered over his glasses at them. Mr. and Mrs. Potter and went once they got the letters of acceptance for the twins, asking Hermione and Harry if they wanted to go with them, but they declined saying they wanted to go with the Weasley's. Harry smiled and explained to his dad what he had seen in the Quidditch shop window; the newest model of broom: the Firebolt 10000. James' eyes gleamed with excitement being the male wizard that he was; his excitement was very contagious…or at least to those with a 'Y' chromosome. Eric was sitting at the edge of his seat, trying to get his fathers attention, asking if he could have it. James just shook his head, saying that he couldn't have a broom until Second Year.

"Hermione dear, did you see anything you liked?" Lily asked to quite Hermione, who had been thinking of that dangerously handsome man she'd seen. Lily's voice broke her out of her thought, and broke Harry out of his conversation with his father. Hermione looked up and began to shift.

"No, not much," she said nervously. Should she tell them? Would they over react or say exactly what Mr. Weasley said. However, she didn't get the chance, Harry was always telling them.

"-and he just kept holding onto her even when she was obviously trying to get away," Harry said in a conspirators voice, leaning over the table to look at his parents. They both went still at the description Harry had given them of the man; James' lips forming into a thin line had caught Hermione's attention.

"You…you know who he is, don't you?" Hermione piped up. James looked up at Hermione and nodded his head.

"Eric, Rose, why don't you two go watch the tele," they both groaned, saying they wanted to know what was happening, but when James threw them that stern look that clearly said 'get your asses out there before I give you something to whine about', had them scurrying to the living room with hast. James sighed and got up and went into his office; after a few rustling noise', he reemerged with a folder in hand. Flipping through the pages of his work folder, he pulled out a moving picture and gave it to Hermione and Harry who were sitting right next to each other. "Is that the man you seen?"

Hermione gasped at the picture of the man; he stopped whatever it is that he was doing and just looked at her with those piercing eyes. She blinked and handed the picture to Harry who scowled at it. "Yes, that's the man, but why do you have a picture of him?" Hermione asked, a little uneasy at seeing those eyes again. James squeezed the bridge between his eyes.

"His name is Fenrir Greyback, and he's bad news; very bad news. He's likes turning anyone he doesn't eat into werewolves, says he's making a 'pack'. Hermione," James said, looking his newly adopted daughter in the eyes, "He's the one who turned Remus." After he said that, both Harry and Hermione went ridged, their eyes open. "He's not known to pay special attention to females," he had to stop himself before he gave the poor lass nightmares. Hermione took a big gulp of air after finding she had stopped her breathing. Everyone at the table just looked at the table like it had all the answers.

Hermione got up and started gathering the dishes, Harry helped her. As they went to the kitchen to do the dishes, James and Lily were left to their thoughts. "Well, this is new," James tried to joke, letting out an uneasy laugh. Lily squeezed his hand.

"We got to tell the Ministry that they've seen Fenrir. You know how long they've been chasing him for. What if he's taken an interest in Hermione? He could be looking for a meal of her," Lily's throat constricted on her. The thought of Hermione becoming wolf chow made her insides churn unpleasantly. James sighed, bringing and arm around his wife's back and rubbing soothing circles in it.

"Don't worry…once she's at Hogwarts, Fenrir can't touch her. We just have to keep a close watch on her until then. It's only a month away," James suggested. Lily looked up at him.

"But what about that camping trip we promised the kids? They were all looking forward to it," Lily said, remember the trip they had planned for next week. They were going to go to the woods not to far away and spend a week camping. James shook his head.

"They'll just have to deal sweetheart. If we go and leave Hermione at the Weasley's, we could be putting ourselves in danger. He's probably taken a good whiff at Harry and wouldn't have a problem tracking down his scent, and using him as leverage to get to her. We're going to tell the Ministry and stay at home. Don't forget, Fenrir may be a werewolf, but he is also a powerful wizard," James interjected. He got up and went to his office. "I'm going to write a letter to the Ministry right now."

But see amid the mimic rout

A crawling shape intrude:

A blood-red thing that writhes from out

The scenic solitude!

It writhes! – it writhes! – with mortal pangs

The mimes become its food,

And seraphs sob at vermin fangs

In human gore imbued.

"Come on you two we're going to be late!" Harry yelled up the stairs for the twins who were running behind, not use to the rush. Rose let out a squeal as she came charging down the stairs, hers and Eric's trunks already down the stairs being pulled by their parents. Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled at the two. She remembered her first year, how she had been so excited and giddy that she couldn't sit still on the car ride to the train station. Of course she had known how to get through the barrier, because she had read all about the magical transportation. She hadn't become friends with Harry and Ron until they saved her from a stampeding troll that was let in by their corrupt stuttering teacher Professor Quirell.

"Hold your horses!" Eric fussed, rushing downstairs and into the car with everyone else. Harry shook his head and made his way to the car as well. James started the car and turned on some muggle music...rather lame muggle music. It sounded like something from a surreal, drug induced nightmare. Hermione called it 80's Pop. He'd seen pictures from the 80's pop culture…it wasn't good. Then, to his utmost horror, James started singing.

"You spin me right round baby right round, like a record baby round round round round," he sang in a deeper voice than usual, bopping his head back and forth giving suggestive glances to Lily who shook her head and covered her face with her hands.

"Gods…I've done and married and moron," she grounded out in self-pity. Before they got to the end of the street, a motorcycle pulled out of nowhere in front of James, causing him to curse and veer to the right.

"Sirius, you great wanker! What do you think your doing?" James yelled out the window the man on the bike. He was clad in a black leather jacket with black jean pants. Sirius was a handsome rebel of 39, the same age as his best mate James. At his friends insult, Sirius put his hands over his chest.

"Prongs, you wound me. I thought we were friends," he said, his voice sounded very wounded indeed. The twins opened the door to the car, and ran to embrace their uncle. "Och. Well, at least someone in this family loves me," he laughed, picking up Rose and walking towards the car. "I've come to follow you mate, so lets go before we're late for the train," he said, setting down Rose, who hopped back into the car.

"You're going to the train station with us Uncle Sirius? Then can't I ride with you?" Eric asked, putting on his most charming puppy dog eyes that he knew his uncle couldn't resist. When Sirius looked down at the boy, he quickly looked away, putting his hands in front of Eric's face as if he'd just seen the most disgusting thing in the world.

"Oh, not the eyes mate. You're killing me! Ask your father," he said, keeping his eyes closed so he wouldn't look into the eyes of the young actor.

"Can I dad? Can I?" Eric asked, now giving James the big puppy dog eyes. James sighed and nodded his head. Eric gave out a 'YES!' and punched the air before dragging his uncle back to his motorcycle. Sirius laughed and quickly started the noisy contraption. Getting on the motorcycle and making sure Eric's hands were clasped tightly around his waist, Sirius started his loud mode of transportation and, with a last wave to the rest of the Potter family, roared down the street, heading towards Kings Cross Station; James shook his head at his friend and followed with a sigh.

The ride wasn't too long, since they didn't live to far from the station at all…maybe thirty minutes at the most. Once the car was parked, they all climbed out of the car in a hurry, fearful of their tardiness. "Come on then," James said once everyone had everything they needed, then turned around and started power walking towards their platform, between platforms 9 and 10. They rolled their luggage on trolley's, and once they reached the barrier, ran right through, the muggles around them completely oblivious to the fact that a whole family disappeared through a solid pillar. "Hurry now, get on, and go fi-" James said, but was cut off when his younger son flew to him and gave him a quick hug before moving onto his mother. "Never mind then," he chuckled. He saw Sirius walk up to the group. They hugged like the brotherly friends they were.

"Alright everyone, have a nice trip to Hogwarts, Eric, Rose…don't listen to a thing the older students have to say to frighten you. Harry…do try to stay out of trouble this year," James pleaded, but only on behalf of his wife…he himself was actually proud of his son's prankster streak; took it after his dad of course. "And Hermione, I know I don't have to worry about you, being Head Girl and all. Except for maybe the lads…" he went off, causing Hermione to laugh.

"Right…the lads. They can't do a bit to me," Hermione said in a giggle. Sirius grinned.

"Nonsense! Have you looked at yourself in the mirror lately 'Mione? You've grown into a beautiful young woman…all that bushy nonsense you called hair has finally gone. And your body is-"He was cut off by a jab to the ribs by James, causing him to wheeze. "Alright then, I'm done," he coughed, putting a hand on James' shoulder and bending over to catch his lost breath. Hermione's face could resemble Ron's whenever Lavender Brown gave him 'the look'.

"Right! Well, you all have a nice year, and we'll see you at Christmas alright?" Lily said with a laugh, shooing her kids onto the train. They all waved and made their way to their traditional compartment. Lily waved back, a tear in her eyes. The last of her baby's were going to Hogwarts.

With a loud screech, and a huge puff of smoke, the train lurched forward, intent on its speedy retreat from the station.

Inside the train, in the last compartment, everyone was getting settled in. Hermione had conjured up a bunch of pillows to cover the floor. She really hated sitting in the compartment chairs for so long. So, they all lay sprawled on the floor, Hermione's head laying in Harry's lap and her legs crossing over Ron's. Eric and Rose had left, saying they wanted to see if they could meet anyone before getting sorted. Hermione laughed and nodded her head, telling them to steer clear of the older students, knowing exactly what they were going to do.

About halfway through the ride, there was a knock on the compartment door before it slid open to reveal a cheery old lady. "Anything off the trolley dears?" She asked kindly, always liking this bunch because the boys alone always tried to clear her Trolley of its goods. And they did so again, this time Hermione joining in with the pigging out. She didn't eat any of the chocolate frogs, not liking to eat anything that moves of its own accord.

They quickly changed into their uniform, Hermione stepping out and into the compartment a little bit away that held Lavender and Parveti. They had agreed to let Hermione change in their compartment in third year. Quickly giving the girls a warm welcome that included hugs and "how are you's?" She changed her clothes before leaving, telling them that she'd see them in the Great Hall.

"First years!" yelled a behemoth of a man once they all started to get off the train. Eric and Rose had found them before, and now had the intention of sticking with their older sibling and his friends. "First years, follow me!" Rose clung to Hermione's skirts in terror.

"Blimey, look at the size of him," Eric uttered in awe. "He must have Giant's blood in him," he said his thoughts out loud. Hermione patted Rose's red head.

"Don't worry, looks can be deceiving. That's Hagrid, the grounds keeper and the Care of Magical Creatures Teacher. He's very gentle and caring. Wouldn't harm and hair on your head. No…he leaves that to his creatures," Hermione said with a giggle, giving Harry and Ron a nostalgic look, which they returned with a grin. Harry gave his twins and nudge towards Hagrid, intent on saying hello to an old friend. They all made their way towards the huge, scruffy man. "Hagrid!" Hermione said with happiness. Said man stopped his shouting and looked at the group with a grin.

"Why 'ello there! And how was yer trip?" Hagrid asked with a smile, before looking down at the two new additions. "And who's this?" He got a good look at Eric and blinked. "Blimey. I think I just had a moment of déjà vu." Eric looked almost exactly like Harry did in his first year, only he doesn't have a Firebolt scar on his forehead, nor did he have glasses. Harry grinned.

"Hagrid, I'd like you to meet the new twins," he laughed, remembering Fred and George, the Weasley twins the caused the school mayhem when they attended. "Take good care of them! We'll see you in the Great Hall Hagrid," Harry said, pulling on the shirt sleeves of his best friend, and his adopted sister. The two waved at the big man as he started yelling for first years all over again.

As they were walking towards the carriages that would take them to the school, Hermione had the sensation of being watched. She looked around and around, trying to find her audience. Her eyes came in contact with those piercing blue-gray ones…the same ones from Diagon Alley. She sucked in a breath and walked quicker towards the carriage, passing Harry and Ron, who looked at each other and shouted at her to wait up. Quickly climbing into the carriage, Hermione sat there and rung her hands until the boys joined her.

"What was that about 'Mione?" Ron asked inquisitively. Hermione looked up at in with big doe eyes.

"He's here! I saw him...just now in the crowd at Hogsmead watching me," she shuddered as she remembered the feeling of being watch like prey. Ron and Harry blanched and looked out the window the see if they could see the man. He was gone. Harry ran a hand through his messy hair. They had to deal with a lot of things in their young lives that kids shouldn't have to deal with. But they're best friend (and his adoptive sister) being stalked by a reportedly vicious werewolf was not something they were ready for.

"We'll talk to Remus after class tomorrow. Professor Dumbledore has made him the permanent D.A.D.A teacher," Harry suggested, patting Hermione's back. Both he and Ron sat on either side of Hermione, throwing their arms over his shoulder and grabbing one of her hands. Hermione sighed.

"I don't want to be werewolf food," she sounded so pathetic in that tiny voice of hers, like a five year old who was pouting about being forced to eat her greens. Ron laughed and ran a circle over her back soothingly.

"Don't worry 'Mione. He's not going to eat you while we're around," he said with humor. Hermione laid her head on his shoulder and sighed.

The rest of the ride to the castle was quiet, except for the squeaking and groaning of the carriage. The boys held onto Hermione the whole way, giving her their support the best way they knew how.

When the carriage rocked to a stop in front of the school, they quickly got out and started their short trek up to the school and into the Great Hall, where the first year sorting was about to commence and after Dumbledore's announcements, a grand feast.

Out – out are the lights – out all!

And over each quivering form,

The curtain, a funeral pall,

Comes down with the rush of a storm,

While the angels, all pallid and wan,

Uprising, unveiling, affirm

That the play is the tragedy, "Man,"

And its hero, the Conqueror Worm.

They all feasted greatly after Dumbledore's announcements. Turns out she had to share a common room with their hated rival Draco Malfoy. But she wasn't bothered by that. At the moment, she felt those eyes again. Impossible! She was in Hogwarts! He couldn't get in here! About half way through the feast, she lost her appetite. Ron looked up.

"Was wonk?" he said with a mouth full of chewed food. Hermione wrinkled her nose and just shook her head.

"Full. I guess I ate too much on the train," not wanting to disturb them of their meal as well. She looked around the room and was actually relieved to see that the eyes that were prying into her head were just the glare of Malfoy, he was obviously angry about sharing a common room with her. She didn't care…Malfoy was an annoying fly compared to someone else she had to worry about. She really, really didn't want to become werewolf food. Couldn't he come back when she was like eighty or something and finish her off then? That way she would have lived her life. But now, she was just a girl! Barely of legal age! She hadn't lived at all! Sure, Ron, Harry and she had had more adventures than any seventeen year old can truthfully say they've had, but she still hasn't lived yet! She just barely got over her parents death!

"Hermione!" Harry shouted in her ear, shaking his adopted sister and friend by the shoulder. She snapped out of her thoughts to see that everyone was getting up to leave. "Come on then," Harry said with a laugh.

"Oh sorry Harry must have been lost in my own world there," She said in a daze. Where had the time gone? She had only been thinking of her fate for a few minutes!

"Well come on, everyone's leaving us," he said trying to drag Hermione back to the common room. Hermione tugged her hand out of his hand.

"Sorry Harry, didn't you know? Head Girl and Boy get their own Common Room," then she grumbled, "Which I have to share with that stupid bloke Malfoy. Can my life get any worse? Next thing you know, I'll have a horde of Giants chasing me, wanting to use me as a tooth pick," she joked. Harry laughed and headed out with the rest of the Gryffindore house. Hermione waited patiently for McGonagall and Snape to lead them to their new common room. She dreaded being alone with that wanker.

Their common room was beautiful. It was like any other common room, only it didn't have a specific house color. It was decorated as if it were decorated for a regular person, and not for Hogwarts. The whole room and furnished around the fireplace. There was a correspondence table tucked under a large circular window, an obvious place for Owling. It had everything you needed for corresponding, and a huge bowl of Owl feed.

On the walls were the moving pictures of every Head Boy and Girl ever to exist, along with a few miscellaneous pictures. Over the fireplace hung another portrait, their own portrait; they looked rather civil. Hermione blinked. How had they done that? She didn't remember getting together with Malfoy for someone to paint a picture! Another wonder of the Wizarding world; it will never cease to amaze her.

Quickly, before Malfoy could start anything, she made her way to her room, which looked exactly like the Gryffindore dorm room she'd stayed in since first year. Only, there was only one huge bed. She smiled and changed for bed. Crawling up in bed and quickly fell asleep once her head hit the pillow.

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Authors Note: That poem that I was writing is called 'The Conqueror Worm' by Edgar Allan Poe. I will do that with all of my stories, some of them may not even pertain to the chapter at all…they're just poems I like. Not all of them are going to be by Poe…just wrote that one because I have one of his poetry books.

Well, what did you think?

Love you all,

Love,

StupidLoserFantasyInc.

A.K.A

Brittany R. McCray