Hermione quickly finished her book, making short notes in the margins with a feathered quill. The boys had eventually begun to talk quietly, and while Blaise was neutral, Malfoy completely ignored her. She was fine with that; his forehead still glowed.
A cart with many strange treats eventually interrupted the tentative peace. The boys bought several sweets, but she refrained. Her parents were dentists; she had a healthy respect for her teeth.
Noises echoed throughout the long train. Screams, bangs, whistles- she wondered what in God's name could make all that noise. Then she smirked to herself. Of course, magic could make millions of different noises.
To occupy herself, Hermione began to review her school books, rereading her various notes. Blaise looked curiously at her well-organized notes and thoroughly read course materials, but said nothing.
She hoped other students weren't like these boys. If everyone felt so violently about muggleborns, the next seven years would be very difficult. She had learning to do; she couldn't spend every moment protecting herself from her fellow students. With her first encounter, she had already been in a fight. Fingering her wand, she resolved to learn as much magic as she could, to defend herself. It seemed as though that would be her only option.
Eventually, the train began to slow. The sun had moved through the sky, bringing them into the evening. Train compartments began to clamber open, students moving into the lane to exit. Hermione looked to her trunk, imagining navigating all of her things from the compartment to the school.
"Leave it here," Blaise whispered when Malfoy stalked out. "The school handles it."
Surprised by the unlikely help, Hermione blinked and muttered her thanks. Blaise nodded and followed his friend.
A massive, bellowing man herded Hermione and the other first year students onto rickety boats. Hermione was too busy to worry over the state of their transport; she was looking at the castle.
The humungous structure sat on the edge of a dark lake, the setting sun picking out its tall towers in the dusk. Her eyes traveled over the spires and walls, awed by the sheer size. She wasn't sure how it compared to Buckingham, but she was much more interested in the magical school than the royal family.
Hermione stepped into the narrow boat, listening to it creak in warning. Surely, magic could fortify an old boat without a problem. Did the school simply have no care for the first years?
"What's your name, then?" a voice asked, distracting her. The redheaded boy in his drab clothing sat beside a diminutive black haired boy with glasses.
"Hermione Granger," she said, extending her hand in greeting. The redhead pumped her hand almost violently, smiling with his chocolate covered mouth. The bespectacled boy had a firm grip but a tentative gaze.
"Ron Weasley," the redhead introduced. If Hermione hadn't been put off by the chocolate around his mouth, the crumbs falling to his robes as he spoke certainly made her roll her eyes.
"Harry Potter," the other boy said. "But just call me Harry."
"Very nice to meet you two," Hermione half-lied. Harry seemed perfectly pleasant, but Ron's manners were quickly grating her nerves.
The boats set out into the lake by themselves, rocking the three and startling them into squeaks of surprise. "Wow," Ron gasped, peering into the water. "I wonder how that happened! Maybe the giant squid pushed us!"
"My guess would be a spell," Hermione said. "But what's this about a giant squid?"
Ron ignored her, or at least he was too caught up in his own excitement to hear her question. "Once we get in Gryffindor, we can do what my brother Bill talked about, and feed the squid Slytherins!"
"Feed students to the squid...?" Harry asked nervously, looking out over the dark, tumultuous waters.
Hermione was too busy considering Ron's statement to assure Harry that students were not a known prey of giant squid. She had read quite a bit on the various Hogwart's Houses and their founders. She couldn't decide whether she was more suited to Ravenclaw or Hufflepuff. She was certainly intelligent, but she was also loyal, and a diligent worker. While Gryffindor evinced values of valor and chivalry, she didn't believe it appealed to her. She was much more methodical than brash, although she wouldn't frown at being called brave. As for Slytherin, she certainly wasn't a pureblood. However, she was quite good at scheming and was monstrously ambitious.
Soon, the boats drew upon a black shore, and the first years were trundled, wet and cold, into a cavernous hall. A wide set of sweeping steps disappeared into the corridors above, drawing Hermione's attention when they began to move. Surely that broke the laws of physics? Yet, the stone grated and settled into position on the opposite side, leading to a new set of rooms and corridors.
McGonagall called the new students to attention. Her eyes met Hermione's briefly. "Tonight you will be called by name to be sorted into your Houses. After, there will be a feast, and then you will be escorted to your rooms by a prefect. You are about to embark on a wondrous journey of discovery. Magic, friends, and an entire world lays at your feet to explore. I expect all of you to appreciate the school for what it offers you, and act accordingly with respect. Your prefects will explain what happens when you don't respect the school and its rules. I suggest that you do as I say," she warned, half spectacles glinting in the candlelight.
Names began to be called, students walking through a set of great doors. As "Abbot, Hannah!" was placed in Hufflepuff, cheers erupted. Each student was sorted, raucous exclamations encouraging them to their new House. Quickly, it was Hermione's turn.
Keeping her back straight, Hermione walked through the doors. The small eleven-year-old girl stalked down the wide aisle between the tables, face hard set. Students watched her curiously as she ascended the steps to the dais, wondering if she would be placed in their House. She plucked the hat from the stool and sat, before quickly pulling it over her ears. She had kept a blank face, but now her nerves preceded her. The decision the ratty old hat made would determine the course of her schooling. She had to be careful to get placed in the best House for her abilities.
"Ahhh, a smart one, yes... but no, I do not think Ravenclaw would suit you..."
Hermione nearly leapt when the rasping voice echoed in her mind. The hat spoke to itself as it determined her House, magically reading the faults and strengths her brain offered.
"Why not? I am clever, and I enjoy learning."
"That is true, but Ravenclaw will do nothing other than put you among similar kind," the hat responded. "Your House should help you grow, not keep you stagnant."
"Then what of Hufflepuff?"
"You are certainly a hard worker, and loyal... but it is the same. Being among those people will not encourage you to reach as high. Also, you seem a bit too mean for Hufflepuff... there's viciousness in you that would be ill-suited amongst the calm, diligent successors of Helga. No, while you have some qualities of a Hufflepuff, your talents certainly lie elsewhere..."
Hermione frowned. Those were her two top choices, summarily rejected in short order. Gryffindor and Slytherin would place her among people she had less in common with, the chivalrous and the sanctimonious.
"No doubt you will excel wherever you are... but you want to do more than just excel, yes? You want to conquer."
"Yes," she whispered aloud.
"Then you must be put in a House that pushes you, more than you even push yourself... perhaps Gryffindor? You are brave, but not brash. You defend the weak, but you also despise weakness. However, I am not sure..."
The hat paused, seeming to gather its thoughts. The hall was completely silent, all eyes on the young witch that had been beneath the hat for over five minutes, the longest time since Minerva McGonagall.
"Perhaps, your best fit would indeed be Slytherin..."
"But I'm a muggleborn!" Hermione protested. What she had read on the subject had been very clear on the blood purity of Slytherins. Halfbloods were an occasional mention, but she had only read of two muggleborns being sorted there since the school was founded.
The hat chuckled. "You do not know everything about yourself, witch. There is something ancient in your veins, something I have never seen in a muggleborn."
Hermione's thoughts froze. Were her suspicions right, then? Was her father actually a wizard?
"Slytherin would fit you well... yes, yes, you would be pushed to overcome adversity from your heritage. Your ambition would be well-fostered amongst Slytherin, the House of the cunning... you are willing to do whatever it takes to get what you want, yes?"
"Yes," Hermione whispered, shoulders slumping as she realized the hat had made its decision.
"Well, then I suppose it'll have to be SLYTHERIN!"
The table to the far left burst into cheers, casting emerald sparks high into the air. The thin white stripes on Hermione's uniform melted into color, matching her House. Her tie turned silver and green as she sat amongst her new House-mates.
"Welcome to Slytherin, firstie," a girl with thick black hair clapped her on the shoulder. "Home of the cautiously evil!"
"Don't go giving us a bad name," a boy interrupted. He looked at Hermione and winked, then said, "we aren't cautious at all."
"Cautious enough to not be caught," the girl laughed, "definitely a change from foolish lions!"
"And that, my dear," the boy grinned, "is your first lesson in Slytherin. Cautious enough to not be caught-"
"-but not so cautious that it was all for naught!" she finished, passing Hermione a plate of food.
"My name is Octavian Pernelle," the boy introduced himself. "Fourth year looking for some fun!"
The girl hit him solidly, but only earned a laugh and a smirk. "She's a baby!" she yelled. "Leave off!"
Octavian winked at Hermione, bringing down more of the girl's ire upon himself. "Ignore him," she muttered darkly. "He's incorrigible."
"Lucky thing about one-track minds is that it means I can focus on the truly important things," Octavian declared. "Things like witches, and quidditch!"
Hermione smiled cautiously when the girl groaned loudly.
The table welcomed it's last first-year when the hat announced "Zabini, Blaise!" Quickly, everyone began to eat their meals. Strangely, Hermione noticed that while the food disappeared impressively fast, there was not a pinky or napkin out of place. The fastidious purebloods were well-mannered about devouring their food.
"I'm Arianna Caldwell," the girl finally introduced herself with a grin. She passed Hermione a bowl of buttered rolls, and winked. "But you can call me Aria. Me and this buffoon right here are fifth year students, so if you ever have any questions, feel free to come to us."
Hermione nodded in thanks at the offer. "I'm Hermione Granger," she said quietly, hyperaware that this sudden friendliness might be fleeting, once her house discovered her heritage.
After a short and off speech from the peculiar headmaster, the houses dispersed to their respective dormitories. Hermione followed the green and silver flood of students down into the dank dungeons, the temperature dropping steadily.
"Now listen up, firsties," a prefect named Castella Swann bellowed, "the password to the dorms changes every two weeks, so keep your eyes peeled to the notice board for when it changes. Once we get inside, everyone go freshen up so you stop looking so bloody bedraggled, and then come straight back into the common room for the beginning of the year meeting." She eyed all of the young first-year students threateningly, hand clasped on her wand. "This meeting is absolutely mandatory. I don't care how tired you are, or who you are, or any of that shite. Now get inside! The password for the next two weeks is argent."
All of the students shuffled inside, the older years quickly going into their familiar rooms. Hermione and her fellow first-years gazed around in curiosity and awe at their new common room. Three of the walls were a deep, verdant green, absorbing the flickering firelight from the great stone fireplace. The fourth wall was a thick window that stared out into the dark lake. Pale fish swam past, meandering with the student's eyes.
The room was set with velvet couches and chairs, strewn with decorative pillows. Low tables, ideal for studying, stayed between the couches, inviting Hermione to spread her schoolbooks over them for homework. The only protection between her feet and the cold stone floor was a thick patterned rug, looking just like something Hermione would expect to see in some Lord's home. The available walls were crowded with portraits of famous Slytherins, staring haughtily at their new housemates. Hermione watched as one portrait's figure leaned over and snickered to another, eyeing them in amusement.
"Get to your rooms and back out here in ten minutes, or I will go in there and find you!" Castella ordered, sending the first-years scurrying through an archway to find their respective rooms.
Hermione followed a gaggle of excitedly tittering girls down the left hall and into a room with five empty beds. The beds were large, with emerald curtains to provide some privacy. Quickly, the girls found their trunks at the end of each bed and began hurriedly dressing for the meeting.
Warily eyeing the girls she would be spending the next seven years of her life with, Hermione opened her trunk and began to place her books into a small desk shelf beside her bed. She resolved to try and be genial to the girls; it wasn't bright to make enemies of roommates.
"And what's your name?" A girl suddenly asked. Hermione offered her hand to the girl, quickly checking her short black hair and blue eyes.
"Hermione Granger," she introduced, noting the girl's smug expression.
"Pansy Parkinson," the girl rejoined, neatly ignoring Hermione's offered hand.
With a raised brow, Hermione withdrew her hand, listening to the quiet sniggers of the other girls. "A pleasure," she said, the word lingering on her tongue.
The other girls were introduced thereafter, but Hermione did not offer her hand again. Daphne Greengrass, Tracey Davis, and Millicent Bullstrode each smiled politely, but Hermione could sense that it was not entirely meaningful.
Pansy looked over her books, obviously well-read and brimming with notes, with a sneer. "A swot then, I see. Maybe if you're bright, you'll at least be of some use to do homework."
Hermione smiled slightly, beginning to understand how things were going to go. "Only for a price, or an exchange."
Interest piqued, Pansy considered her new roommate. Hermione was lithe and tall for a girl their age, crowned with wild curls. Her stare was what held Pansy, amber glittering with just a suggestion of menace.
Pansy was not the sort of pureblood who could claim the nobility of a lineage like the Malfoys, the wealth of the Notts, the beauty of the Greengrasses, or the power of the Blacks. Her family kept their place on the outskirts of the elite through cunning and ambition. So when presented with this witch, who did not have a magical last name and stared at her with veiled viciousness, Pansy was given pause.
Perhaps it was too soon to make enemies of Hermione just yet, no matter how Draco raged. At dinner, he had described this girl using dirty slurs, yet Pansy was confronted with a coldly polite witch that seemed to hum with leashed violence. Pansy would have to tread a careful line to keep both the witch and Draco on her good side, at least for the time being.
"Perhaps something can be arranged," Pansy decided. "Until then, we have a meeting to make, and I would rather avoid having Castella hunt me down this early in the year. You can come with us, Hermione."
Ignoring her friends' questioning exchange of looks, Pansy turned and left the room. Her friends followed. After a moment to put her wand back in her robe pocket from where she had held it at ready, Hermione left as well.