May 1st, 1976
If someone asked Hogwarts' students about Hermione Lestrange, most people would say the same thing. A smart girl, too introverted to be considered friendly yet not cold enough to be considered unapproachable. A somewhat peculiar Slytherin, who cared more about the impact people would have on her grades than whether they met society's standards regarding what an acceptable acquaintance was for a sixteen years old pureblood lady. If that same person asked Rabastan Lestrange about his twin, the answer would be quite different. He would say she is his favourite person in the world, but someone who cared too much.
Ever since she was a child, Hermione cared. Be it about magical creatures, civil rights or strangers' welfare, it seems she was unable to see injustice or suffering and put it in the pile of the many things that would not impact her life and therefore be a waste of her time to think about. Of course, their father had done his best to change that weakness of character, but had ended up agreeing to let her be as long as she didn't put herself or their House in any sort of trouble.
Because of that, Rabastan wasn't surprised when Hermione grew so anxious after the Daily Prophet announced the death of Darla Robson.
Like most people, the little muggleborn had left Hogwarts for Easter break. Unlike most people, she never boarded the Hogwarts Express to come back to school. The rumour mill had gone wild and theories had appeared from every corner of the castle. Stories of a girl dead from the neck up forgetting about the train were soon replaced with stories of deadly illnesses and kidnappings. It took less than a week for the truth to be revealed by the Prophet and to say the students reacted strongly to the news would be quite an understatement. Not all of them reacted that way though, as some purebloods and even half-bloods deemed their time to be too precious to care about a single muggleborn they weren't close to.
"For all you know, she was a mingebag."
"Whether she was a unicorn or a thestral isn't the point, Rab."
Turning her head to make sure no one was within earshot, Hermione lowered her voice as she kept talking.
"It's not just about destroying shops or attacking random muggle neighbourhoods anymore, they infiltrated the Ministry!"
"Now you're just being dramatic," teased her brother.
"Am I? How else would they know the address of a twelve years old? It's not like she published it in the Prophet!"
Her brother let out a sigh at that. His hand ran through his curls, messing his hairstyle some more as he forced himself to lower his occlumency walls to let his emotions show.
"Is that what worries you? That they might find the manor? Roddy and I would never let anything happen to you. Don't look at me like that, I know you can kick ass too, but you know we'd never let you do it alone. Also, you're a pureblood, so they have no reason to target you."
Sitting so close to him made it all the more easier to see how much he believed in what he was saying. In his mind, being pureblood seemed to be a miracle solution, a key able to open all doors and a shield able to stop all dangers. It was all the more laughable to Hermione that she had no doubt they would not only find Lestrange Hall but be received as honourable guests in it.
"I'm not worried about myself," she corrected with as much calm as she was able to muster. "I'm worried a group that did nothing but harm our country for the past few years has gained access to classified information hidden in the Ministry. For now it's just a girl and her family. What if they're looking for something else? What if they find it?"
"Alright," placated Rabastan whilst raising his hands as a sign of surrender. "Dangerous things are happening, I'll give you that, but it's not like we can do anything about it from here. For now let's just drop the subject and focus on the match alright?"
Rabastan was right and she knew it. Still, she hated how easy it was for him to forget about a whole family being murdered by blood supremacists. How easy it was for society as a whole to witness a crime like this one and expect everyone to go on with their life, like a quidditch match meant anything when people were dying outside the castle's walls. Her brother was right though, and so she half-heartedly smiled in agreement and casually straightened the collar of the shirt that was sticking out from underneath his quidditch gear.
"I'm not the one who has to focus," teased Hermione. "I'll only be in the stands. You're the one who'll be on a broom ten metres from the ground."
Rabastan's name was called from the other side of the room, ending their conversation. It was easy to feel appeased at the sight of her twin's easy smile as he rose from the couch they were seated on and joined his teammates who were waiting for him near the entrance of the common room.
Following his example, Hermione grabbed the book she had been reading before her twin's arrival and climbed the stairs leading to her dorm where Morwen Frobisher and Mayme Kirk, two of her roommates, were transfiguring ribbons to put in their hair for the match. As soon as her book was put down on the pile standing on her nightstand, Hermione's arm was grabbed and she was pulled away from her side of the room and brought to stand in front of an enlarged mirror.
"Girls, I really don't think ─"
"We'll only use one on you," cut Morwen who was already working on releasing her curls from the french braids Hermione had charmed them in this morning.
"We won't overdo it like last time," promised Mayme as she finished charming a long ribbon to have silver snitches flying on the green piece of satin. "Your brother is part of the team, you can't show up with just any hairstyle and call it a day. It'll look boring on the picture we'll take at the victory party."
"We can't know if there will be a victory to throw a party for before the game is over," reminded Hermione with a sigh.
The blonde only winked in answer before turning to focus on incorporating the ribbon in her hand to the portion of hair she was braiding. In a matter of minutes, Hermione was sporting a tasteful half-updo held together by a silver and green ribbon. Seizing her chance as the girls were admiring their work, Hermione quickly thanked them and left the room without leaving them enough time to suggest a change of outfit.
The pre-game agitation in the common room was all it took to convince her to leave a little early to the quidditch pitch. She had no interest in having to walk amongst over-excited children and being pushed by the crowd of students as she tried to find a place in the stands,especially since she wasn't a fan of the sport.
The dungeon's corridors seemed to be buzzing with the same excitement as the common room, with students walking around with their faces covered in green paint and talking of whatever they knew of the team's training and abilities. It was almost annoying, and so Hermione started walking faster, ignoring students and ghosts alike as she reached the staircase leading to the Hall. With both the coming match and Darla Robson temporarily banned from her mind, Hermione started considering what to do. She was contemplating going all the way to Ravenclaw's tower to look for Pandora Brown when she collided with a tall body. She didn't even have time to register she was falling when a hand caught her shoulder and an arm appeared around her middle.
"Shit! I'm so sorry!"
She recognized the owner of the voice without having to look at him and her lips unconsciously stretched to form a smile as his hands went back to his sides. Standing in front of her, Remus Lupin, fellow prefect and occasional study partner, was studying her from head to toes, as if to look for some injury he might have caused. Hermione smiled in amusement at his overzealous worry, self-consciously brushing imaginary creases on her skirt.
"I'm alright, thank you for catching me. I didn't hurt you, did I?"
Remus sent her a funny look at that, clearly not believing someone as small as her could ever hurt him but had enough common sense to refrain from saying it.
"I'm fine. Are you sure you're okay?"
"I really am," she assured him. "You caught me before I could fall."
An awkward silence fell on them after that and Hermione considered excusing herself when Remus gestured towards the door.
"Are you going to the pitch too? We could walk there together."
Hermione agreed with a genuine smile and followed him past the door to the path that led to the pitch. As soon as they were outside, Remus started talking again, asking her random questions about her day. She answered all of them, returning some of his questions with an easy smile. There was only so much to be said about her study sessions and week-end habits though, and soon they were both silent again. It didn't last long, as Remus spotted the ribbon in her hair and his smile morphed into a confused expression.
"I didn't know you were a Quidditch fan."
"Oh, that? Well, I guess a little House pride can't hurt, right? Besides, someone pointed out to me I had to look good for the victory pictures."
"A bit presumptuous to assume Slytherin will win," huffed Remus. "Hufflepuff has some really good players this year."
"Yes, I remember hearing something about them crushing Gryffindor's team two months ago," teased Hermione.
Remus's indignant expression only made her laugh, prompting the boy to bump her shoulder with him in mock-retaliation.
"It's Walton's last year, he couldn't focus properly on his captain's duties," justified Remus. "Besides, we still have a chance to win against Ravenclaw next week."
"That won't be enough to win the House Cup though."
"You checked?"
"That's all Rab has been talking about since your match against Hufflepuff," laughed Hermione. "It doesn't matter, you still have two years to do better, anyway."
"And in the meantime, you won't mind having the Great Hall decorated in silver and green," completed Remus with a smirk.
"Well, we worked hard to get our points and the quidditch team has trained all summer and all year. It's only fair that we get recognition for our efforts."
"I don't know if I would call having you answering every question and harassing your housemates into turning in every extra credit assignment for points fair."
"I don't harass anyone. I cajole. Sweetly and nicely. Not just my housemates but my friends in general and for the sake of their studies."
"Ah yes, I forgot you had so many friends outside of Slytherin," drawled Remus as he gave her a side look.
"I have one, which is one more than you," retorted Hermione. "I don't think I've ever seen you hanging out with anyone outside of Gryffindor."
"That's because we don't hang out in the same places."
There was something in Remus' voice as he said that, something heavy that put a stop to their easy banter. They had stopped walking and were facing each other next to the entrance of the pitch. Hermione studied him for a moment, wondering if the implication she had heard behind his words was his intention or a mere figment of her imagination.
"I don't think your friends would like the idea of me hanging out in the same places you do anyway;" Hermione eventually replied quietly.
"What if they did?" Challenged Remus. "Like the idea of you hanging out with us. Would you?"
There was something vulnerable in the way he looked at her that contrasted almost violently with the boldness of his words and the carelessness of his stance. She was tempted to accept his challenge, to answer that yes, she would, even though she knew his friends would never accept her and nothing good would come from such a display of friendship. Studying with people of all Houses and origins was one thing. Actually being friends with them was another.
She was saved from answering when a mass of blond curls appeared at the entrance of the stands and approached them hurriedly.
"There you are, Mina!"
Pandora Brown, clad in silver robes, approached with her usual easy-going expression and linked arms with Hermione.
"I'm terribly sorry to interrupt, but I need Hermione's help in the stands."
"Why are you already here? I thought you'd only arrive shortly before the start of the match?"
"Well, I had to put up my banner. I didn't think it'd be too big for me to stick to the stands on my own. Don't make that face, now that it's only Slytherin and Hufflepuff left to fight for the Cup, I can fully support my friend's House without betraying mine."
"Ravenclaw has still a month left before the end of the year to catch up on the House points," tempered Hermione.
"Like anyone had time to worry about points when the exams are so close," dismissed Pandora before turning towards Remus. "Hello, there. Are you a friend of Hermione?"
"Oh, I'm sorry. Dora, this is Remus Lupin. Remus, this is Pandora Brown, my non-Slytherin friend."
The last part was said as an after-thought and paired with a smirk which Remus replicated easily, mirth dancing in his green eyes.
"Nice to meet you," he greeted Pandora without taking his eyes from Hermione. "I heard a lot about you."
"Have you?" Drawled Pandora whose eyes were going back and forth between her friend and him. "Well, that was nice. Now we really have to go."
Hermione barely had time to say goodbye before being pulled towards the stands by her friends. She dutifully followed her friend in the stairs leading to the highest stands and made sure they were alone before talking again.
"What was that about?"
"You should thank me," shrugged Pandora. "People were starting to come, I figured you wouldn't want anyone walking in on the two of you flirting before the game. Your brother might have tried to send the bludger towards Gryffindor's stands instead of Hufflepuff's team."
"We were not flirting!"
Pandora studied her for a minute, looking for something on Hermione's face the brunette had no idea about. Eventually, her friend's eyes shifted towards the stands on the other side of the pitch, before coming back to Hermione.
"Of course, you were not flirting."
The blonde smiled, one of her smiles that meant she knew something everyone else didn't, before turning around and walking towards her crooked banner.
When Hermione turned around to look at the other side of the pitch Remus was there with his friends, looking straight at her as the stands around him started filling up with students.
Quickly, Hermione turned around and followed her friend. She had a banner to stick to the stands.