Hermione walked with her head, eyes firmly on the book in her hand, and a scarf wrapped around the bottom half of her face. She stepped around another student, avoided being hit by the back of someone's trunk, and Hermione hopped on the train in one fluid motion. She kept reading, not once looking up at her surroundings, and she counted each compartment in the back of her mind until she reached the eighth one. Hermione turned and opened the door with one hand.

"Told you she wouldn't fall."

"It's scary how she does that, honestly."

Hermione glanced up to find Luna with Neville. She scrunched her face and closed the door behind her. Luna had her knees against her chest and was tucked against the far corner of the compartment. Neville took up the other bench, legs stretched across the entirety of the cushion, and he waved awkwardly at Hermione.

"Luna invited me to sit with you guys. Hope you don't mind?"

"Why would I mind?" Hermione asked.

"You rarely speak to me outside of school."

"That is a fair point, but I assure you it has nothing to do with you."

"So Luna already explained."

"Oh? What all did she tell you?"

"Nothing other than you don't speak to many people outside of school, choosing to spend time with your family, and that I should probably keep an open mind during the trip."

Hermione hummed under her breath and saved her place in her book. She put it at the top of the compartment next to Luna's trunk, and she sat down on Luna's side of the room.

"Where are your things?" Neville asked.

"My brother has them."

"Starting from the top, I see," Luna joked.

"I might as well," Hermione replied. "Plus, it will help in the long run."

"You have a brother?" Neville asked.

"I do."

"And he goes to Hogwarts?"

"He does."

"Do I know him?"

"In theory," Hermione answered. "He's not in our house."

"Ravenclaw?"

"No."

"Hufflepuff?"

"Not at all."

"So, that leaves the snakes. Is your brother in our year?"

"Yes."

Neville cocked his head and looked at her.

"Well, it isn't Draco," he said.

"That would be so weird and disgusting," Hermione muttered. "But no, not him."

"And I doubt it's Nott, Goyle, or Crabbe?"

"Gross on all accounts."

"And you said I know him in theory? I would say Montague, but he's a bit out of commission at the moment."

"So I heard."

"That leaves Zabini and Pike."

"It does."

"Pike is too much of a coward to be your sibling, so Zabini?" Neville said.

"Correct."

"But how?"

"You mean, in the sense of how it happened or how I've managed to keep it a secret?"

"Both, I guess."

"That is a long story."

"We have time, and I think I deserve some answers."

"Oh? What makes you think I have the answers to your questions?"

"I wouldn't be in here if you didn't."

Hermione chuckled and propped her head on the back of the bench.

"Okay. What do you want to know?"

"What do you look like?" Neville asked.

Hermione flicked her wrist at the door, locking it, and removed the scarf around her neck. Neville sat forward in his seat, eager to see the changes, and Hermione waved a hand over her face. It wasn't necessary to do it, but she felt like being dramatic. Luna snorted in the background, and Hermione winked at her. Neville's eyes roamed over Hermione's face rapidly, and once he finished, Hermione found that she was nervous about his opinion. Neville gave her a crooked smile and sat back.

"Happy to meet you," he said.

"Don't get used to it. It's a risk walking around without it for longer than a few minutes," Hermione said.

"No, it's fine."

Hermione went about the process of redoing her glamour. She gestured for Neville to continue his questioning, and he folded his arms.

"Whose side are you on?"

"Mine."

"What does that mean?"

"There's a prophecy that mentions a third group in the war. That is my side," Hermione explained.

"You forgot your hair," Luna said.

"No, I didn't. I told you I was tired of messing around with that curly disaster."

"As opposed to the curly disaster you have now?"

"Shut up."

"What's the prophecy?" Neville asked.

"You're not there yet."

"What's that supposed to mean?"

"You skipped over me being Blaise's sister fairly quickly," Hermione said. "My family name tends to bring with it a few assumptions."

"Unlike my housemates, I don't see Lady Zabini as a murderous monster or a heartless woman. I see her as a mother and a woman who got the short end of the stick with husbands. I knew of the men she married, what each one represented, and I'm not going to sit here and say she was wrong for putting herself first."

"Truly?" Hermione asked.

"I have no reason to lie, especially since you have something I want."

Hermione shrugged and said, "That does not mean you are obligated to tell me the truth."

"Neither are you."

"Who says I am?"

"Are you?"

Hermione's lip quirked, and she said, "You remind me so much of Draco."

"Draco?" Neville asked. "Why him?"

"He has a habit of getting under my skin more than anyone else. My brother included," she said dryly.

"Can I know the prophecy now?"

Hermione exhaled through her nose and recited the prophecy she knew backward and forward, from memory, and in a different language.

"Born from the sacred bloodline when two sides of the same coin reign over magic kind, the Guardians of Fate will fight for a world on the brink of ruin. The Seer shall fall into the Widow's web, and his seed shall be split by Fire and Water. Lying in wait, the Son of Earth, orphaned by circumstance, and the Son of Air, chained by blood, shall come forth when Death threatens a drowning mind. Once the Cardinal Four join the Eye of Destiny, they shall usher in a new era of peace."

Neville blinked once, twice, and he said, "I would ask if you knew what it means, but that seems like a waste of a question."

"It would be, yes, and I do know what it means. Down to the last detail," Hermione sighed. "But for the sake of time and my patience, I'll simply explain that you're the Son of Earth, Draco is the Son of Air, I am the Daughter of Water, and Blaise is the Son of Fire. We're Children of Fate destined to change the course of this war and the state of the Wizarding world. Same thing as Harry, except we're going to be fighting against the Order and the Death Eaters. My father, Draco's mother, Andromeda Black, and Bellatrix Lestrange are the Guardians, and Luna is the Eye of Destiny. And I know you're probably stuck on the whole Bellatrix thing, but I do think that is a conversation you need to have with her. I don't know what happened that night, and I think she can explain it to you better than I can."

Neville frowned and looked out of the window. He tapped a rhythm against his leg before he asked, "This is a lot to take in, Hermione."

"I know."

"Start from the very beginning," he said, turning back to her. "I want to know everything."

Harry walked down the hall with Ron, peeking into every compartment, and finally, they found the one they were looking for. Harry tried the handle, having no luck, and he knocked on the window. Hermione was the first to turn to them, then Neville, and they seemed to hesitate before Hermione unlocked the door. Luna shifted and moved closer to Hermione, and Neville went over to sit beside Luna. Harry was a little confused by it, but he sat in Neville's original spot, and Ron sat beside him.

"Hey, we've been looking for you all morning," Ron said to Hermione.

"Not as well as you thought, clearly," she responded. "I have been here since we got on the train, and we are the eighth compartment from the entrance."

"We were with Ginny and the twins before coming here," Ron said, a frown on his face. "What's your problem?"

"Just asking a question."

"There's no such thing as you just asking- what happened to your hair?"

Hermione tucked a curl behind her ear and said, "Nothing but a different shampoo and conditioner."

"Oh. It looks different."

"I'm sorry to disappoint," Hermione said wryly.

"No! I didn't- it looks good!" Ron hurried to explain. "I just meant that you look different. More homely."

Harry face-palmed and Luna clamped a hand over her mouth as she giggled. Neville laughed outright, and Hermione cleared her throat. Ron glanced around the room in confusion.

"What? What did I do?" he asked.

"Ron, do you know what homely means?" Hermione asked carefully.

"I mean, I assumed it was a good thing. Mum calls you that all the time."

Harry wanted to dig himself a hole and disappear in it. He told Ron a million times his Mum had a hate-love relationship with Hermione and that anything she said about her shouldn't be repeated. Especially to Hermione's face. Harry risked glancing at Hermione, who seemed more amused than anything. Maybe they avoided an awkward situation.

"What else does she say about me?" Hermione asked, her eyes shining with mischief.

Or maybe not.

Ron shrugged and said, "She tells me all the time that you're going to need a strong Pureblood husband to keep you in line because you're a shrew. Honestly, Mum thinks you'll end up alone. She tells Ginny to stop spending so much time with you because she's afraid your behavior will rub off on her. Mum spent a lot of holidays questioning where you were and who you were with, you know? We tried sending you gifts, but you never sent us anything back. She was pretty upset about that."

Harry wanted to hit Ron, tell him to shut up, but he was too shocked to do anything but stare at his friend. Hermione crossed her legs and bit her bottom lip. There was something off about her, something different, but Harry couldn't place it.

"I was with my family."

"Mum thinks you just didn't want to spend time with us."

"And what do you think, Ronald?"

"I think you're hiding something."

Hermione chuckled and said, "And do you have any opinions?"

Ron frowned a little and answered, "I think you're dating Malfoy, that you spent the holidays with him, and that you're feeding secrets to the Death Eaters. I told Mum, and she wants us to keep a close eye on you this year. She went to Dumbledore about it too, and he agreed with her."

"Just you and Harry then?" Hermione asked, glancing at the boy in question.

"No, the twins and Ginny too."

"Interesting."

"Hermione-

"Do try to avoid lying to my face, Harry. Especially since Ronald ate one of the twin's inventions," Hermione said flatly.

"What?"

"Haven't you noticed he's a bit too truthful with his responses?" Hermione asked. "Or that his tongue is purple, a side effect of the Truth Twister Taffies that the twins mentioned last year?"

Harry shot forward and looked at Ron, whose tongue was turning purple.

"I told you not to eat anything they offered you!" Harry exclaimed.

"But I was hungry," Ron whined.

Harry dragged Ron off the bench and led him to the door. Harry pushed Ron into the hallway, and as he turned to shut the door, Hermione stood and walked up to him.

"No apology for accusing me of being a spy?"

Harry winced and said, "You have been acting odd lately. Plus, we all remember what happened when you fainted and how the Slytherins reacted."

"Just because I don't have a bias against them doesn't mean that I am sleeping with one of them."

"There's nothing you have in common with them!"

"Not exactly. We do have one thing in common." Hermione grabbed the door handle and gave Harry a fake smile. "You are an absolute idiot, and Ron is two brain cells away from being classified as a baboon," she hissed.

Hermione slammed the door in Harry's face, and he hung his head.

"She's so hot when she's angry."

"Please stop talking, Ron. You've done enough."

Fred whistled as he approached the apartment, and he knocked on the window. Hermione arched an eyebrow, and he gave her his best pout. She rolled her eyes and flicked her wrist, unlocking it without getting up. Neville and Luna slept on one side, and Hermione was propped against the window with a book in her lap. Fred closed the door and sat down on the floor.

"I take it my brother and the great Harry Potter paid you a visit this morning?"

"They did."

"And my brother gladly spilled the secret about Mum wanting us to spy on you?"

"He did."

"Good. That worked better than I thought it would."

"Pardon?"

Fred leaned back on his hands and said, "When George and I heard that ridiculous theory that you're sleeping with Malfoy, we knew what would come next. Our mother is utterly predictable, as is the Order and our siblings. I gave Ron the taffy because, well, let's be honest, even without it, he has a habit of sticking his foot in his mouth around you."

"That he does, but why are you here?"

"We both know that you are not sleeping with Draco, nor are you a spy for the Death Eaters."

"Says who?"

"Because you would rather eat my mother's food for the rest of your life than sleep with a man and follow You-Know-Who. You barely attach yourself to the Order, and that tells me you're content being on a path of your own."

Hermione closed her book and asked, "How are you so sure?"

"Because you and I are a lot of like, George aside."

"I assumed you only talked in riddles around your brother. Guess I was wrong."

"You want me to come out and say it?"

"It will help me to know if I need to kill you at some point."

"George and I were able to visit Italy this summer with Charlie. We went to a small town near Lake Como."

"And?"

"We happened to be in a park while we were there, and you would be surprised at who we saw walking down one of the paths." Fred crossed his legs and tilted his head to the side. "Draco Malfoy, Luna Lovegood, Daphne Greengrass, Blaise Zabini, and a girl who looked an awful lot like you, sans the skin tone and eye color. But magic is a funny thing, is it not?"

Hermione ground her teeth and asked, "What do you want, Fred?"

"For you to know that my brother and I will keep Harry, Ron, and Ginny off your case when we can. Charlie won't tell anyone as he is uninterested in the war and all that comes with it. He agreed that your business is your business."

"What is it going to cost me?"

"You have to tell us why Hermione Granger and the Hermione in Italy are two different people."

"And if I chose not to?"

"We will still keep our end of the bargain, but you'll miss out on having two allies in your corner."

"And what makes you think I'll need allies?"

Fred smiled and got to his feet. He glanced over at the wide-awake Neville and Luna, and he chuckled.

"Something tells me that there's more to this story than a secret trip to Italy, especially when we saw the ever so wonderful Narcissa Malfoy and company in that same town."

Hermione moved before he could blink, and she had Fred against the wall with her wand at his throat.

"You will not threaten or harm her. Do you understand?"

"We have no ill will toward you or Lady Malfoy," Fred said calmly. "We only want to help."

"How do I know I can trust you?"

"You can't, but whatever my brother and I need to do to earn your trust, we will."

"Why?"

"You have been a constant friend to us when we needed you. You are worthy of our loyalty, Hermione, for however long you need it."

Hermione looked him in the eyes, seeing nothing but sincerity, and she lowered her wand.

"See me after dinner, and you will have my answer," she said.

Hermione sat back down and opened her book. Fred took the dismissal for what it was, and he left the room. Once he was gone, Hermione clicked her teeth in annoyance.

"You saw them in Italy?"

"No," Luna answered. "That was as much of a surprise to me as it was to you."

"Odd how the eye of destiny didn't foresee this."

"Somethings not even I am allowed to see," Luna muttered.

"I've only been in the know for three hours, and I can already tell this year is going to be a lot more exciting than before," Neville said.

"You have no idea," Hermione murmured distractedly.

Narcissa stood in her bathroom with a towel wrapped around her chest. She tripled-checked the age glowing in the center of the room, and she felt dizzy. When Narcissa discovered the age adjustment thing for soulmates, she assumed it would be a couple of years, but twelve? That's way more than she expected, and Narcissa had no idea how to react. Someone knocked on the door, and Narcissa opened it without hesitation.

"Hey, what's taking- oh."

"I know."

"You look like you did when you had Draco."

"I know, Bella."

"Holy shit, this is weird."

"Yes, Bellatrix, I am aware." Narcissa tightened her towel and huffed. "I need new clothes," she muttered.

"Why?"

"Because my assets are a bit higher than they were three months ago," Narcissa gritted out.

"Hopefully, you aren't depending on me for your wardrobe change?"

"No, darling, I am not. I need Thema."

"She's going to give you hell for this, you know that, right?"

"Yes, but she is the only one who can make this happen without asking so many questions."

"I'll get her then."

"Thank you."

Bellatrix left the door open when she left, and Narcissa looked at herself one last time before leaving the room. She could hear Bellatrix speaking with someone, and she made her way into the living room. No sooner than Narcissa sat down, Anathema stepped out from the floo, looking as incredible as she usually does. She glanced at Narcissa, then did a double-take, and Narcissa flushed under the attention.

"Oh my. I see why you called so urgently, Bellatrix."

"I know, right!"

"Narcissa, dear, how old are you?"

"Twenty-nine."

"How interesting. You aged down twelve years, and there are now exactly twelve years between you and Mia."

"Yes, well, as exciting as that is, none of my clothes fit at the moment."

"What happened to your clothes before you had Draco?"

"Lucius made me throw them away as I would never be able to wear them again. His words, not mine."

"Where am I taking you?" Anathema asked. "I have a friend in Spain, France, and Portugal. The trip might take a few days, but you should be back in time to enact that plan of yours."

"France is always nice," Narcissa said.

"Wonderful. I have an outfit you can wear in the meantime." Anathema glanced at Bellatrix. "Are you unable to join us?" she asked.

"Yes," Bellatrix sighed. "I'm technically out looking for Lucius."

"I see. Well, when you are able, reach out to me."

Bellatrix nodded and kissed Narcissa on the cheek before she left the flat.

"Do I have free reign on your new wardrobe?"

"Sure. I want something different."

Anathema's smile was positively gleeful, which made Narcissa wary of what she'd just agreed to. There was no chance to question her about it before Narcissa was pushed into the floo while still wearing her towel.