Chapter Two

Meeting the Suitors

Across from her at the Head Table as well as behind her spreading out over the four house tables, Hermione could feel the weight of a tension filled cloud settle throughout the Great Hall. Those who recognized the significance of her full surname either shifted with discomfort and displeasure, or adjusted themselves to sit a little straighter and appear a little taller, the importance of pleasing the Dark Lord's daughter not lost on them. She remained silent long enough for whispers to begin breaking out and carry across the room before smiling politely at the deputy headmistress, working to maintain the appearance of having a soft disposition.

"Not to worry. I'm sure whoever is about to become my head of house will be more than capable of handling it. I just want to be sure that what's on file with the Ministry and what's here matches up," she explained, waving a dismissive hand at the child's game they were trying to play with her. With a light laugh, she added, "After all, we wouldn't want me staying here any longer than necessary now would we?"

Staring down the grandfatherly man at the center of the table to make sure the true meaning of her words had sunk in, she found it hard to believe that this was the wizard whom her father feared. At first glance, no one would think that he was capable of taking her father on, let alone that he had defeated Gellert Grindelwald. Her father's fear of Dumbledore had been what prompted him into sending her and her mother into hiding. As she had grown older and begun to fully understand why such large stretches of time passed between her father's visits she had started to think he was a touch paranoid and far too protective of her. However the ambush on their home in Albania, which resulted in the deaths of her mother and six of the Death Eaters who had been like brothers and uncles to her, proved that looks could be deceiving and that her father had every right to fear for her safety when it came to the Order of the Phoenix. The only reason she hadn't been taken or died alongside them that day, was because her godfather Dorian had persuaded her to leave her books behind for the afternoon and join him as he took his boat out for a sail along the Ionian coastline.

Clearing her throat, Professor McGonagall brought the whispering voices back under control as she pointed to the small stool with her roll of parchment.

"If you would please sit, Miss Granger-Riddle," she instructed, her voice pinching over the second half of her surname as she picked up the tattered leather hat.

Turning around to face the Great Hall, Hermione gracefully perched herself on the edge of the stool with her ankles crossed and her hands folded in her lap. While the professor's voice carried on explaining the long history of sorting and how the process worked, she swept her gaze over the room, freely taking in her fellow students. On the far left she saw a repetitive stream of red and gold ties, her gaze briefly flickering to the back end of the table where the seventh years sat to see the group of students she had had the displeasure of sharing the train ride with.

It had not been an ideal arrangement but she knew her house and its values and had wanted to maintain her anonymity till after she had distantly started working her way through her father's list. As such, she knew that the moment she met anyone within Slytherin, they would instantly ask after her surname so as to quickly place her purity, wealth, and value. The only benefit from her hours surrounded by the overly loud and far too familiar behaving Gryffindors had been that once she got them speaking about house rivalries they had become a well of information. Though their opinions and recounts of past scrimmages with several of the candidates for her guard were heavily biased, it did give her a somewhat raw look into each of them.

Skipping over Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw and looking directly to her Slytherins, Hermione quickly sought out the one she knew to be Severus Snape. Black had gone on an hour's long tangent about him, detailing every perceived flaw from his superior attitude and obsession with studying dark magic all the way to criticizing his hair and nose. Everything about him seemed to rub the group of lions the wrong way. Then when the two had squared off against each other at the gates, she had seized the opportunity to scan his mind to determine just how worthy he was of his high ranking on her father's list. She had been surprised, pleasantly so, to find that his mind was akin to a steel trap. The level of occlusion he had been effortlessly wielding made her want to gain his attention and test just how strong his mind really was.

Spotting him and the three others he had been with, she met his unblinking gaze across the hall and easily slipped back into his mind where she found a series of images and thoughts already pulled forward for her examination. Unable to help herself, she gave a soft laugh at his cheeky arrogance and hurriedly flipped through his offering. He had spliced together a collection of the three times she had already entered his mind along with his forming the conclusion that she had purposely done it in a way that would have made herself known.

Pulling out of his head, her smile grew a fraction more to confirm his suspicion before she turned her attention back to the deputy headmistress just as she was lowering the Sorting Hat onto her head, the wide brim obscuring her vision of the room around her.

Ah... Slytherin's heiress... the hat identified, speaking inside her head. The traits of your far removed grandfather flow through you in abundance. Ambitious, determined, cunning, clever, and resourceful beyond measure. You will be at the forefront of your house with the others looking to you amidst these darkening times, so beware the power you yield not only over them but over Hogwarts. They need you to be better than those who have come before you Miss Granger-Riddle, do not disappoint them… And remember: Lies lurk among your truths, just as truths lurk among what you know to be lies. Things are no longer as they appear...

The hat's words had not finished fading before it came to life above her and shouted, "SLYTHERIN!"

No sooner had the single word of her fate carried across the hall did Professor McGonagall remove the worn leather from her head. With her eyes once again able to see her surroundings, she took in the forced politeness of the other three houses as they gave a customary soft clap in celebration. In time with her rising from the stool, the fifth through seventh year wizards of Slytherin stood as one with the lower year wizards quickly following their suit. Smiling at the deputy headmistress, she gave her thanks before stepping off the dais to make her way to the far right of the Great Hall and take her place among her housemates. As she reached the empty end of the table that would soon be filled with first years, Regulus Black came to meet her. The heels of his Oxfords snapped together sharply as he presented her with a low bow, his hand extended for her taking.

"Would my lady do me the honor of accepting my escort?" He formally asked, his eyes reverently trained to the floor.

"I'm sure very few things would give me greater pleasure," she replied by way of acceptance, slipping her hand into his before he rose.

He smoothly placed her left arm to rest atop his right, her fingers disappearing into his palm as he closed his hand around her own. Through the shield of his body she could feel the eyes of the students following them as he paraded more than guided her up the aisle. As they progressed, the witches of her house subtly bowed their heads in deference, the wizards remaining at attention with their eyes forward as though they were already falling in line awaiting her directive.

Regulus continued his display of pomp and circumstance as he circled them around the head of the table and brought them down the aisle that abutted the stone wall. Bringing her to the very fringes of where the seventh years sat, he took the liberty of raising the back of her hand to his lips for a kiss that lingered nearly too long to be considered chaste. With a nod of his head, he lowered into another bow, though not as deep, and offered her the place that had been his.

"Thank you," she murmured before stepping over the bench.

Just as they had risen for her approach, the wizards of her house sat as one after she seated herself in what had been Regulus's spot. To her right was a strong jawed blond that she placed as the male Rosier heir and just after him was Severus Snape, both of whom were woefully underdressed for the Welcome Feast and yet seemed wholly unbothered by the fact, even in her presence. On her left past Regulus, was Rabastan Lestrange who was easily identified by the near twin resemblance he bore with his older brother Rodolphus who Hermione had gotten to know after her return to England.

Leaning back to see him around Regulus she said, "Your brother sends his regards and apologizes for not seeing you off to school this year. He and Bella had the unenviable task of seeing myself and all my luggage from Little Hangleton to London last night."

"Unenviable is the eye of the beholder," he charmed. Offering his hand to her, he added, "Rabastan Lestrange, though you already knew that."

"Hermione," she replied, a faint blush heating her face as his mischievous hazel eyes maintained her gaze while he, too, kissed her hand for a near inappropriate amount of time.

Resuming her straight posture, she turned to greet Rosier as well as formally introduce herself to Severus after having already invaded his mind so many times in the last hour and a half. Beginning to speak, she was interrupted by the large double doors of the Great Hall opening and the nervous chitters filtering in as the small first years followed behind Professor McGonagall in a close huddle.

"After then," Rosier murmured with half a smile, revealing a deep dimple in his right cheek.

Giving her attention to the front of the hall with everyone else, Hermione listened as the deputy headmistress once again explained the purpose of the sorting. When the first child's name was called out she leaned forward to rest her elbows on the table and eagerly watch. After a short moment of silence the hat shouted out, "HUFFLEPUFF," and the tiny little witch hopped off the stool to a boisterous celebration, welcoming her into her new home.

"That was so quick," she quietly observed, wondering how long the room had waited for her while the Sorting hat had spoken to her.

The feeling of warm breath by her ear startled her into turning towards Rosier as another student approached the stool.

"I apologize, I didn't mean to catch you unaware," he whispered, his voice strong and gravelly. "In most cases the hat makes its determination within a minute or two however, there are outliers. Some, like yourself, wear the hat for only mere seconds before it reaches a decision. And then there are others who take much longer, relatively speaking that is. Professor McGonagall was one of those. In fact, she's one of the longest hat stalls on record, having taken nearly five minutes."

He broke off his explanation as a third student was sorted, the first of the new year to join Slytherin. As the little witch approached their table the second year boys quickly stood as they had done for Hermione, making her smile and the others chuckle at their adorable confusion. Seeing that no one else at their table had done the same, they created a quick wave of retaking their seats, all except one who shrugged and went to meet the girl half way and escort her to her seat just as Regulus had done for her. The boy followed his prefect's example to the letter, completing his escort with a kiss to the girl's hand before helping her to sit, her poor face bright red as she giggled.

"Oh he is going to be trouble when he's older," Hermione laughed, leaning further over the table to smile at him and give him a nod of approval.

It had taken over two hours to sort the incoming students into their houses, their numbers nearly equal in their division. As was the case with her, the majority of the hall had remained reserved each time a first year was sent their way, but had rejoiced on levels nearly equal to their own for the others. The noticeable difference in celebration had vexed her right away and made her take interest in the older students who were perpetuating the behavior. It was unsurprising to her that for Gryffindor the main instigator was Sirius Black. However what she did find surprising was that the school's Head Girl, Lily Evans, sat idly by allowing his behavior and that of the Head Boy's, her boyfriend if she had understood correctly on the train, to continue on. By the time the final student had been sorted into Slytherin, Hemrione had become incensed, watching the poor witch's lip quiver as she fought back tears while on the arm of the charismatic second year, who tried to soothe her.

"Are they always like this?" She hissed to no one in particular, as the headmaster approached the podium.

"Worse, I'm afraid," a girl whose hair and cerulean blue eyes matched that of Rosier's said. Leaning over the table and extending her arm across she introduced herself, "I'm Eloise, Evan's sister. You'll most likely be rooming with Adaline, Constance, Winnie, and myself since our dorm is the only one without five girls. It's nice to meet you."

Smiling at the bubbly blonde, Hermione reached to accept her hand, her arm and side brushing over Evan as she did so. Though she couldn't see his face, she knew he must have given some reaction to the contact given the smirk on his sister's face and the repressed snort that came from Severus.

Pulling herself away a bit to give him space as she resumed her seat, Eloise laughed, "Don't mind my brother, he's wound far too tightly. I keep offering to set him up with a Ravenclaw girl to help him relax because clearly his current methods aren't working, but-"

"Eloise!" He scolded, giving his sister a sharp stare that she met with equal measure. "Don't talk like that around her," he hissed, a flush creeping up the open collar of his shirt.

Placing a hand on his arm, Hermione drew his attention back to her and said, "I've spent the last eight years living in Albania with only my mother and the transfiguration mistress who taught me as female influences. Other than that, our home was filled with seven unwed men. Dorian Nott, my godfather, being one of them.

Further down the table one of the seventh year boys sputtered his drink as he confirmed in disbelief, "Dorian Nott is your godfather? I don't think there's a witch over twenty-five he hasn't slept with.

"Nathaniel Undergrove by the way. If you need someone to show you around tomorrow, I would be more than happy to oblige," he oozed with a suggestive wink.

"Thank you..." she said, repressing the creeping curl of her lip as she mentally crossed his name off her father's list.

Skill, ability, intelligence, and familial and social connections had gotten nearly thirty onto the initial list her father had drawn up in preparation for her attending Hogwarts. Hermione had been grateful to Bellatrix when she had systematically cleared out half the prospects for her based on her personal relationships from before she had graduated two years ago. Then Rodolphus had come in and wiped out another seven based on subtle conversations he had had with Rabastan over the summer that had dug further into their reputations among their peers, but especially among the witches. Their work had brought the list down to a manageable eight whom her father ranked twice over. One ordered for the best prospects to make up her guard and another to order the candidates as potential husbands.

"Oh piss off, Nat!" Eloise dismissed with a flippant wave of her hand. "The only thing you want to show her is the inside of your trousers and we all know there's nothing worth seeing in there. And even if there was," she said, her vivacious demeanor returning, "she's going to have me whispering in her ear about each of you preening peacocks and we all know my galleons will be stacked in favor of my dear brother."

"Oh for the love of Merlin, kill me now," Evan groaned, running his fingers up his nose till they shielded his face from his sister as though that would ease the sibling embarrassment.

"Sure thing," Severus agreed, the drawl of his voice making Hermione's lips part as she silently begged him to read the entire contents of her library aloud. "How would you like to go? Poison or wand?"

Laughing as she shook her head at their antics, she redirected her attention to Regulus and Rabastan, only to be interrupted before she could even speak as Dumbledore began to speak.

"Welcome to another year at Hogwarts," he greeted, his enhanced voice carrying over the loud conversations, subduing the room once more. "Now I know we are all anxious to tuck into what is sure to be an excellent feast, but if you will allow an old man his indulgences, I will be but a few moments.

"As many of you are aware, political tensions are rising outside the walls of our hallowed institution. While it has yet to affect us here, your actions and those of your friends and house alliances will affect you out there. This is especially true for those of you who are embarking upon your final year and will soon enough find yourself immersed in the fray. Though darkness can be found within each and every one of us, it is how we strive to live in the light that will define us. It is never too late to seek change, to grow and evolve, to forge a new path for yourself, one outside the shadow of your family," he advised, looking directly at Hermione as if she had even the slightest doubt his words had been meant for anyone else.

Clapping his hands together he continued, "Now, as a word of caution to our new students and a reminder to our more troublesome returning students, the Dark Forest is strictly prohibited to those without staff escort. There are a great many things that call the territory their home and most will not distinguish between mischievous students and those looking to encroach on their lands.

"In the same vein of safety, dueling outside of supervised events is a punishable offense, as is brawling," he continued, his eyes now settling directly over Severus and Evan. "Both will earn you detention and the deduction of house points.

"And as my last reminder, the prefects, Head Girl, and Head Boy have been carefully selected by the staff as well as myself to represent both their house and the school. They may act in any capacity befitting their role and as such can and will deduct house points as they see fit. Just as with your professors and the staff of the school, they too have the authority to assign detentions as warranted. Show them the respect they have earned given their station."

At that Rabastan scoffed and muttered under his breath, "Not bloody likely," to which Severus grunted in agreement.

"Now, without any further delay," the headmaster announced, giving a double clap of his hands. "Enjoy!"

The previously empty serving dishes that lined the center of the table, rapidly filled with an abundance of food. While her first impressions of Hogwarts varied a great deal, the elves that serviced the school and its students had not disappointed. Their care and pride shone clearly across the buffet of food, each dish expertly prepared and presented.

Resting her hand over the center of her plate, she sent a soft pulse of magic to the kitchens and murmured, "Thank you, your service is greatly appreciated."

Unfolding her napkin, she draped the linen cloth across her lap as she took a deeper survey of what was on offer.

"What did you do that for?" Rabastan asked over Regulus who had also been watching her, drawing her attention away from the flank of salmon she was about to portion out.

With an embarrassed chuckle, she tucked the curtain of hair that had fallen forward behind her ear and met his questioning eyes.

"You're going to think it silly and woefully naive of me," she warned.

"Try us," Regulus responded, placing the fillet she had been about to select onto her plate.

"Thank you. Well... um... three years ago I sort of went off on this save the creatures campaign," she started to explain with another shy laugh.

While her upbringing was nothing to scoff at, having been trained nearly as rigorously in the ways of pureblood society as she was in offensive and defensive dueling, she knew her humanitarian efforts for creatures that were deemed lesser would be seen as rather peculiar. Especially given that those around her knew of her father and his, or rather the Dark Lord's stance on things. He was an indulgent parent though, going out of his way to help her in her efforts within their own homes and those of the homes of his followers, and was one of the many reasons the two facets of him lived separately in her mind.

To Hermione, Tom Riddle was her father. He had cultivated her interests, pushed her to grow and better herself, was always there waiting to catch her when she failed, and had spoiled her beyond reason, making sure she had every advantage in life. The Dark Lord was merely a persona he had adopted to help garner support and backing from Wizarding Britain's wealthiest and most influential families whom without true reform would take decades to accomplish.

Seeing that they weren't satisfied with her lack of a detailed answer she said, "I just don't agree with how most wizarding families take their elves for granted. Some of them treat them in a truly deplorable manner. Witches and wizards don't want to debase themselves by working in services such as cooking and cleaning and yet they take advantage of these kind and loyal creatures who thrive on the bonds they forge with families, caring for them, raising their children for them, and even loving them. It just doesn't sit right with me and I refuse to perpetuate the behavior."

A tap on her shoulder had her turning around to see Severus leaning behind Evan.

"We ask out of awe not criticism," he explained. "Reggie is the same way and it's unusual to find anyone else who shares his views. Especially someone of your-"

"Esteem," Evan finished, his implied reference to her familial relation to the Dark Lord not lost on her.

An unspoken understanding of each other passed between the five of them, further solidifying the original rankings her father had given each of them. Though she still had three more to personally vet, Hermione knew that if they were amicable to what she would lay out to them tonight, she could happily make up her guard of the four wizards who were flanking her. Her only problem would be having to decide which of them she would want for a husband.

Maybe with some luck, one or two of them will bow out of that running.