Disclaimer:

All characters appearing in this story were mostly created by Ms. Rowling. All others are fictive and in no way real or alive.

Dear JK Rowling

I herewith beg for your pardon and mercy. I hope my misuse of your fantastic creation, which comprises the entire world of Harry Potter, does not offend you in any way. I just couldn't stop myself …

I solemnly swear I'm not up to making any profit whatsoever of the following mischief.

Remaining yours  in respect and reverence,

Me.

AN: Title still to be elaborated …

A HP fanfiction by Loominocturne

─ CHAPTER ONE ─

Silk Grey and Blue

The great castle lay silent in the grip of sharp autumn gusts, beneath a sky of leaden grey that showed tinges of scarlet and gold on the woody outlines of the westward hills. A pungent north wind invaded the Highlands' forecountry, furrowing the green surface of earth in successive violent waves, plunging valleys in withered desolation, and stirring the sombre waters of deep lakes. It wailed around the deserted courtyards and against windows beyond which no blazing fireplace roared warmly enough to prevent cold from settling in these dark corridors, sparsely lit by an occasional torch. The muffled stillness in the ancient school was broken only by muted thunder and some unceasing murmurs, growing louder to the ear of a solitary wanderer, as she approached the hall from which they issued.

Everything was so different. Even though she'd been teaching at Hogwarts for almost six years, Hermione Granger felt a slight jolt around her stomach, every time she looked upon the four rows of students seated in front of her. It was a strange thought, that she had taken her meals there during those many years, when she had still been studying herself. Hermione tried a weak smile as she settled herself next to a stern witch in emerald robes. Sitting with the teachers just made the Hogwarts Great Hall appear so much larger than it actually was. She gently pushed back a candle hovering dangerously close to her hair towards the hostile, overcast ceiling.

Everything was so different. Suddenly, it was her own children's turn to sit at the long Gryffindor table with their friends and classmates, to talk of what they had seen during the day, of what they hoped would happen tomorrow.

Even the World around Hogwarts had come to change. Since the Dark Lord's fall from power, everything seemed so peaceful. Hermione and her friends were now thought of as heroes, who had brought first hope, then freedom to wizardkind. Hermione personally felt she hadn't deserved all this fame. On the other hand, she mused, it was quite impossible to get rid of such titles once you had helped in destroying the greatest threat the World had ever known.

He Who Must Not Be Named.

Voldemort.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Speeding through the wild and barren countryside of northern England, the Hogwarts Express was soon engulfed by the most inpenetrable fog Hermione had ever seen. As the grass and rocks disappeared behind a silky grey veil, the lights in the small compartment magically flickered on. Hermione turned at the sound of the door being pushed open. She quickly swallowed the mouthful of pasty she had been working on, while Ron and Harry, who had both gone to change into school uniforms, resumed their seats.

'Stupid fog, can't see a thing out there,' muttered Ron, stuffing a set of muggle clothes back into his trunk and glancing outside. 'When d'you reckon we'll arrive?'

'In about an hour,' said Hermione, drawing up a sleeve to peer at her watch.

'Sure?' Ron frowned.

'Of course I am.'

'Why?'

Ron had kept this tone ever since their departure from King's Cross. Something had made him extremely grumpy indeed, but what, Hermione didn't know. After all, they had spent a very pleasant summer together. To Harry's (and the Dursley's) immense relief, Dumbledore had finally allowed him to leave Privet Drive. Mrs Weasley, being just too glad to let Harry move into the Burrow, didn't hesitate in inviting Hermione as well, not pausing one second to realize she'd have a full house.

Hermione heaved a sigh.

'Because we always arrive in Hogsmeade at eight o'clock, Ron.'

'Good point,' said Harry. 'Oh come on, stop grumbling if you're not going to tell us why.'

Ron seemed to conclude that telling them was more painful than giving up his attitude, so he eventually calmed down after a few minutes.  Instead, he pulled out his old chess set.

'Want to play, Harry?' he said, in a more friendly way.

'Yeah.' Assuming a determined I'm-going-to-win-this-time expression, Harry set up his men.

Hermione moved over to watch. Just then, the old fear struck her again.

It hadn't happened for a long time, but suddenly, Hermione saw herself playing chess with Ginny.

How ridiculously inappropriate.

She tried to bannish it away from her mind, but it wouldn't budge.

The scene loomed up frequently when she was feeling especially miserable, though she couldn't explain in what way she would feel miserable right now. It had all started one night, back in her third year, when both Harry and Ron weren't talking to her anymore, and she had lain in bed in an extremely pathetic condition.

Hermione didn't expect either Harry or Ron to guess what a great deal of thinking she had done about this. 'Perhaps because I'm a girl,' she had thought. Believing their behaviour to be part of the unpredictable nature of boys, she had assumed that she didn't care about what they thought.

But the next day, Hermione had felt that she did. They appeared to have far more fun together than with her and there certainly was more quarreling when she was around. Thinking back at it, Hermione believed she had been through a rather rough time of her young life, overworking herself with the aid of a Time-turner. The additional fear of being cast aside by her only friends had been too much to bear. She didn't expect them to understand her feelings, so she never told them anything. The only person who knew of it was Ginny Weasley, the only true girl-friend she had.

So it came that, during another night before the start of Hermione's fourth year, Ginny had said the following, ever so comforting words: 'Hermione, I know that somewhere, as deep inside as it may be, Harry and Ron like you as much as you like them.' And shortly after, Ginny had asked, 'Want to play chess?'

Ginny certainly was her great friend and they had spent most of their evenings at Hogwarts sitting together in their dormitories, talking about things they simply wanted to talk about, playing chess at the same time (It would take them hours to finish). Hermione was getting quite good at it.

Nearly good enough to take on Ron Weasley, she thought.

Today, however, Hermione was quite glad Ron hadn't asked her to join in. It certainly looked as though he wanted to work off his bad temper in this game – Harry lost within five minutes.

By the time the Hogwarts Express pulled into Hogsmeade station, the fog and Hermione's worries had gone. While she stepped out of the compartment with her friends, a familiar voice could be heard shouting: 'Firs'-years! Firs'-years over here! Hello you three!'

Hagrid the gamekeeper waved one gigantic arm as he recognized them. Swept along by the crowd of students, they only had time to wave back, before making their way over the winding path to the long line of horseless coaches.

As usual, the mouldy carriages were waiting some way up a hillside flanking the lake, ready to take all students but the first-years up to the school. Out of her window, Hermione could see the perfectly clear night sky, sparkling with innumerable dots of silver. Looking down, she watched a group of little boats set out across the even water, cutting the reflection of an ivory crescent moon. And beyond, on a steep cliff overlooking the lake, stood Hogwarts castle, its many turrets and towers stretched towards the stars.

With a small yank, the coach started along the soft, muddy path. Hermione turned back to look at Harry. He was gazing intently at the school, as though it was a friend he was glad to see again. Both Ron and Hermione knew how much Hogwarts meant to him ; it was the first place he had ever called home. For some years already, it had become their habit to watch Harry while he greeted the school with his dreamy Hello-dear-Hogwarts expression in the eyes. It somehow made them feel happy, too.

'Welcome back, Harry,' said Ron, grinning for the first time that day.

'Welcome home,' chimed Hermione, content that all the bad mood had disappeared at last.

Harry didn't say anything, but his friends understood.

A few moments later, the long line of coaches rolled past the two winged boars, proceeded through the iron-wrought gate and finally came to a halt at the main entrance. Hermione carefully jumped out, whereas Ron and Harry, who had tried to climb off simultaneously, were now seriously stuck in the other door of their coach.

'Oh really,' she smiled, grabbing Harry's arm and violently tugging him out. 'You two don't miss a chance to make fools of yourselves.'

They joined the flow of students in direction of the great oak doors that barred the entrance. Only then did they notice something unusual.

'Wow. They've been spring-cleaning!' Ron said, eyes widening with surprise.

It certainly appeared so. The weather-beaten walls had been meticulously cleansed of dirt and the bright light of the torches flickered to reveal an even grey stone colour. The only time Hermione had seen the castle in this state was when important guests, the delegations of Beauxbatons and Durmstrang, had been expected.

'What did they do that for?' said Ron, brushing his finger at the stone and examining it closely.

'Maybe Dumbledore thought it'd be nice, having a neat castle once in a while,' Harry shrugged.

Hermione was still thinking about this sudden change in the Hogwarts cleanliness mentality, when Harry's face split into a wide grin.

'Wait a second,' he said. 'Haven't you noticed anything?'

'Yes. The castle's changed, so what?' Hermione felt slightly annoyed.

'Not that …' he grinned more broadly. 'I'm just thinking … I can't remember seeing Malfoy's slimy head today …'

Hermione and Ron stopped. That was true. And very surprising, too.

In the last four years, ever since their second year at Hogwarts, Draco Malfoy hadn't missed a single chance to throw dirty remarks at the three of them, the first day back. And this time … it just couldn't be. No Mudblood, no Potty and no Weasel.

'Can you believe our luck,' said Ron, dawning extasy apparent in his face.

They scanned the crowd of heads for an awfully blonde, pale and pointed one, but without success. Hermione shook her head. Without success? This had to be victory …

'Maybe he's sick,' she suggested.

'Maybe he's gone,' Harry sounded hopeful.

'Maybe he's died,' exclaimed Ron.

'RON!' Hermione cried. How could someone possibly say such things?

Ron looked very put out at her sudden outburst. He dropped his joyful grin and told the flagstones that he was sorry and hadn't meant it.

Hermione followed Harry and Ron into the Entrance hall and noticed that it was sparkling from all sides, too. The portraits had been brushed, the candelabras polished and the slippery floor was shining all over. The house-elves had better been rewarded for this, Hermione thought furiously.

Their cheerful mood definitely increased after Draco Malfoy had been unofficially declared absent (it increased even more when they saw Crabbe and Goyle's long faces). Surprisingly, Peeves the Poltergeist didn't turn up either. Hermione guessed he was probably cackling over the poor first-year's heads down at the lakeside door.

They moved towards the Great Hall, as school expected them to do upon their arrival. However, Hermione, Harry and Ron found the door jammed with students. Cries of – was it surprise? – reached their ears.

'What's going on in there?' asked Harry. 'Why aren't they moving?'

'Perhaps we've got a new ceiling,' Ron was perplexed, too.

The crowd slowly moved on. Hermione looked up at the enchanted ceiling, but it was as enchanted as usual, which meant that the clear night sky could be seen. Harry and Ron however, were rooted to the spot. Having grown tall enough to look over the other's heads, their eyes were fixed at the end of the Hall.

'I don't believe it,' said Ron. Harry remained silent.

'What?' For the first time, Hermione wished she was a foot taller. 'Say something I can understand!' she plucked at Ron's sleeve. As this had no effect whatsoever, she grabbed them both, pulled them away from the door, and marched them off to the Gryffindor table. Steering through the maze of black cloaks and hats, they reached the right-hand side wall and siddled up to the very end of the long, polished oak board.

Hermione felt her jaw drop and quickly closed it again. She could now see that at each end of the four tables, groups of teenagers had already seated themselves. They wore light blue robes, that seemed to be made of finest silk, and were smiling politely at the arriving Hogwarts students.

Hogwarts castle was, once again, hosting a delegation from Beauxbatons Academy of Magic.

Harry and Ron weren't paying too much attention to the Beauxbatons lot, though. They were smirking brightly at the teacher's table. Hermione followed their gaze, and this time, she really opened her mouth. Behind the beaming Dumbledore, a young wizard was waving over at them, happiness apparent all over his handsome face.

'Hello Harry! Ron! Hermione!' he cried, hopping down towards them.

'Den!' they cried back, running up to greet their friend.

*  *  *  *  *  *  *

Author's notes:

So, I guess this was Chapter One. I expect the whole story to range around 20 long chapters or so.

Hope you enjoyed the first. Please review!

Loominox

Next Chapter:

There'll be a special treat for the sixth year!

You'll find out who 'Den' is, our favorite ferret will turn up, and there'll be some new broomstick technology.