Hi! This is the first fic I've ever posted, but I have some experience in writing, and I've been wanting to do it for a while. I'll be posting every Friday. This is going to be a *long* fic, as I'm planning to cover all seven years of Hogwarts and some beyond as well.
Some other notes: The pairings listed above are the endgame parings, although it will take a little bit to get there. Most of them will be dating another person (or people, in some cases) before they end up with who I have listed above. Some of them will have long-standing crushes on who they end up with throughout the whole story, because I'm a sucker for that kind of thing.
There is some minor Ron Weasley/general Weasley bashing in it, but this is because the main characters are Slytherins, and don't get on particularly well with him, or Harry Potter, but Harry might come around at some point much later on (no promises!). Harry will be very stubborn, as Hermione in the original series would try and get him to think and challenge his beliefs-like in the first book when she at first didn't think Snape was after the Sorcerer's Stone-but without Hermione, he's not going to have that someone encouraging him to think. Ron is a little more anti-Slytherin in the first year than he was in the first book to help with my plot. The ideals and beliefs that the characters hold are not based off of my own ideals and beliefs-they are reflective of how I believe the character in the situation that they are in would think, react, or say. Also, the bashing isn't terribly overt, in my opinion, so you can definitely read the story without it being distracting.
Currently, I have this rated at M, but that will probably change to an M that is very E-ish when that time comes, but I won't be switching the story's category until I've posted the first chapter that is Explicit (i.e. has smut). There is cursing in this story, if you're sensitive to that kind of thing, but I don't use any derogatory slurs, for rather obvious reasons, I think. There will be mentions of Death Eater activity, although I won't go into graphic detail, and I will put trigger warnings in the Author's Notes of that chapter. As for JK Rowling's views on the transgender community, I don't agree with them. You won't find her TERF views anywhere in here.
I have this also posted on AO3, so if you want some spoilers (I guess?) on the endgame pairings, look there. My username over there is MissPugLover24.
I also use some direct quotes from the books, but I do not own Harry Potter or any of the characters in it. With all that being said, thank you, and please enjoy!
AN: This was edited on 1/8/2021 by my incredible beta FalconHonour
Hermione raced after Harry and Neville, hearing the footsteps and shouts of the Death Eaters behind her. Harry bolted into an open door and Hermione and Neville dashed in behind him, Hermione wrenching the door shut behind her.
"Collo-" Hermione started to cry, but she was interrupted by the door crashing open and the two Death Eaters that had been following them bursting inside. Hermione was vaguely aware of a shout of "Impedimenta!" as she was thrown into a bookshelf. She heard the crack of a rib, and quickly protected herself from the onslaught of falling books with a frantic shield.
One of the Death Eaters yelled, "We've got him! In an office off-"
"Silencio!" Hermione cried out, and the man's voice off abruptly. He was thrust aside by his fellow, who was in turn, quickly petrified by Harry.
Hermione turned to Harry, "Well done Ha-". She was cut off by a purple spell that erupted from the mute Death Eater's wand as she crumpled onto the floor, blackness overtaking her vision.
When she came to, she looked around at her surroundings, which were dark and vast. Looking down, Hermione realized that there was no floor, and she was standing on nothing. Despite her fear of heights, she felt no panic. She felt calm, eerily so.
It was rather like floating, Hermione noted, as she idly wondered what had happened to her. Was she dead? Was this what death was?
Her parents had once taken her to a church back when she was nine or ten, and the minister had raved about the pits of hell, and the torture practised by Satan and his demons, and how by accepting Jesus into your life, you would go to heaven, where the roads would be paved in gold. Hermione had always thought that that had seemed a little impractical-if there was a higher being, what use would he have for a road of gold? It wasn't like gold meant anything to him, it wasn't as if he had money, even if He was real. So Hermione had done what she did best-research.
She read about different religions' beliefs of the afterlife, and none of them really matched up with each other. Even people with near-death experiences all recounted different things, and even if they were similar, who was to say they weren't hallucinating? Even when she pored through pages and pages of scientific theory on the afterlife and what happened after you died, nothing panned out. So, for the first time in her life, exhausted, Hermione gave up. That wasn't to say that it didn't bother her - she hated not knowing things. Death and what happened afterwards always remained a niggling thought in the back of her mind that she desperately tried to ignore, because, quite honestly, the uncertainty of it all scared her. When she discovered the Magical world, the thought returned to the forefront of her mind and again, she tried to discover what the afterlife was-perhaps wizards knew-but again, her efforts remained fruitless. Hermione did read one book that mentioned a religion in which wizards and witches believed that Lady Magic was a tangible thing-like God and Fate and Luck and Divine Intervention wrapped all into one. Unfortunately, she couldn't find much else on it. Hermione had asked Ginny if she knew anything about it. Ginny had shaken her head and told her that it was this thing that only Purebloods like the Malfoys and the Greengrasses believed in, and that nobody else really knew too much about it. All she'd been able to tell Hermione was that those who believed in Lady Magic celebrated Yuletide instead of Christmas and Samhain instead of Halloween, along with various other holidays and holiday substitutions. Ginny had said that she thought it was kind of a neat idea, but she didn't know enough about it to tell Hermione if she really believed in it or not. And even if she did, it wasn't like the "snobby Pureblood Slytherins", as Ginny had put it, would let her practice with them or even teach her anything about it.
A couple of years later, Hermione had asked Sirius about it. Sirius had snorted and said, "I believed in it as a kid. Not sure if I do anymore, 'cause it's all supposed to be about balance. Good people get rewarded, bad people get punished, that sort of thing.. It's all about intention. Light or Dark, doesn't matter. Balance. And the shite hand that's been dealt to me is not balanced!" He shouted the end up to the sky as if Lady Magic herself would hear him and come down and fix his life. Hermione wasn't sure if Sirius was disappointed that Lady Magic didn't show up.
But no matter what, Hermione didn't think that there was a single religion or scientific theory or person or anything that thought that whatever this was was death. Was she going to be here for eternity? How long had she been here? A second, a year? A hundred? How was time measured here? Was this even death? What if it was a waiting room of sorts? Hermione's mind continued to race, faster and faster, questions spilling over into other questions, memories flashing through her mind at the speed of light. Then suddenly, the floating stopped. Hermione started to fall-quickly. She flailed her arms to try and slow her rapid descent. She grabbed for her wand, for something to hold on to, even if she couldn't use it, but there was nothing, which was just as frightening as the fall itself. Then, just as suddenly as the fall had started, it stopped.
Hermione's eyes flew open as she bolted upright, gasping for breath.
"Whoa, whoa, whoa!" a girl laughed, as Hermione's senses returned to her. She was in her room. Daphne sat on the edge of her bed, her gentle waves messy from sleep-the way they always were before she charmed them pin straight with the spell from Mum's grimoire, "Bad dream?" Daphne asked.
"Yeah," Hermione breathed, "Funny thing is...I can't remember what in Merlin's name it was about!" Hermione tried to chase the threads of her dream, but it was to no avail. Shaking her head, she put it out of her mind. Suddenly, she froze. "Daphne, it's September 1st!"
Daphne's giggles burst into full out laughter, "Took you long enough to figure out! You've only been talking about it non-stop for the past month!"
Hermione rolled her eyes, "As if you've been any better, Daph."
"Touché."
"Circe, Merlin and Morgana! What time is it?" Hermione exclaimed, "Did we miss the train?"
"No, Mia, calm down. It's seven in the morning, Skippie is packing everything into our trunks, Mippie is making pancakes with chocolate chips for breakfast, and Pippie is waiting to help us in the bathroom. In fact, she's getting quite impatient. I'd say she's about two minutes from dragging you out of bed, sleepyhead," Daphne teased.
"Well, who am I to keep Pippie waiting?" Hermione grinned, as she slipped out of bed. She skipped through her room to the door to the shared bathroom and flung the door wide. "Pippie!" she exclaimed.
"Mistress Miney," the elf was on top of a step stool, her foot tapping in impatience, "You's be snoozing late."
Daphne giggled from behind, "Pippie, it's only seven in the morning, cut Mia some slack!"
"Fine," Pippie conceded, "But it be's an important day for Mistress Miney and Mistress Daphne. Now sits."
Hermione and Daphne sat in matching fluffy white chairs, and Pippie set to work on Daphne's hair. Hermione and Daphne were almost identical-the same round blue eyes, the same heart-shaped face, the same slightly upturned nose, the same elegant lithe limbs. That being said, Daphne would swear that Hermione's cheeks were rosier - to which Hermione would scoff, and Hermione would insist Daphne had prettier teeth - to which Daphne would roll her eyes and ask how someone could have 'pretty teeth'. All the same, the only true difference between the girls was the color of their hair.
Both were just a shade off blonde. Like their mother's, Daphne's hair was the softest strawberry blonde Hermione had ever known a person to have. It could almost be called rose-colored, though it was slightly too pale for that. Hermione's hair, on the other hand, matched her father's. It was an ashy color, just brunette enough to not be pure blonde, but just light enough not to be a definite brunette.
Hermione looked over to Daphne to see Pippie putting in her final touches, and then putting a bow into Daphne's hair, right at the top of her braid, "Now you's be staying still until I do Mistress Miney's hair!" Pippie insisted, before popping her step stool over to behind Hermione. She started charming Hermione's hair into loose waves, and her small fingers nimbly braided bits of hair to meet at the nape of Hermione's neck. Tying the whole thing off with a green ribbon, like she had Daphne's, Pippie snatched a bottle of nail polish off the vanity, and quickly gave each of the girls French Manicures.
"Now shoo!" Pippie waved them away with her hands, and they each went into their bedrooms that connected to the bathroom.
Greengrass Manor was rather large, and certainly had more than enough rooms for each of the girls to have their own bathroom, but Daphne and Hermione insisted that if they couldn't share a room (as their parents insisted that they didn't), then they would share a bathroom and be as close as possible to sharing a room as they could.
Hermione carefully surveyed each of her robe options for the ride to Hogwarts. Even though she would be likely sharing a compartment with Pansy, Theo, Draco, Hannah, and Daphne-of course- who she had all known for as long as any of them could remember, but she would also at least see some other people whom she hadn't met before. Granted, there shouldn't be any surprise Purebloods, as she was at the very least, friendly acquaintances with all the ones that showed up to any sort of event. They kind of had to get to like each other, it wasn't like there was anything terribly interesting to do while the adults wined and dined and made political and business moves. Then again, it was always possible that there could be some Pure-bloods who never really showed up to anything. The Lovegoods never did, for example, although Hermione was pretty sure that Luna Lovegood wasn't going to Hogwarts until next year. There would be the less important Half-bloods, the ones whose parents didn't have enough influence to get themselves invited to any galas or Ministry functions.
And then there were the Muggle-borns. Hermione had nothing against Muggle-borns, it was just that she had never met one. Father had warned her not to talk about Lady Magic around Muggle-borns because more often than not, they'd dismiss it or think it was Dark. However, that didn't mean that she wouldn't be cordial with them, connections were important, no matter who they were with. And perhaps, there would be a particularly powerful Muggle-born in her year. Those sometimes happened, although rarely. Unlike most Muggle-borns, who came from lines of forgotten squibs, the really powerful ones popped out of nowhere. Take Lily Evans Potter, for example. Hermione was of the belief that Lily Evans Potter had been blessed by Lady Magic. After all, the ritual she did to save her son, Harry Potter, from You-Know-Who was one of the widely known, but rarely practiced, rituals known by those who followed Lady Magic. It was rarely practised for two obvious reasons. First, it was really difficult, and second, it required the caster to sacrifice their own life.
Now that she thought about it, Hermione realised that Harry Potter would be in her year. She vowed there and then that she would not get caught up in the hubbub of the 'Boy-Who-Lived' nonsense. After all, it was Lily Evans Potter who did anything even worth talking about. Hermione idly wondered if Potter would believe in Lady Magic, like his parents did, or if he'd subscribe to the same beliefs as Dumbledore did-that Light Magic was the only acceptable form of Magic.
Hermione rolled her eyes. Magic was a balance, it was neither Light nor Dark, and anyway most spells and rituals that people considered 'Dark' weren't even that bad. They just used blood. Blood Magic and Dark Spells weren't inherently bad, it was all about intent. Even two thirds of the Unforgivables could be justified at times. The Imperius could prevent someone from committing suicide or hurting someone else. The Killing Curse could painlessly euthanize an animal, or a victim of Dragon Pox who didn't want to live to face the worst symptoms of the disease. The Cruciatus, though, had absolutely no use Hermione could think of that would be justifiable.
Daphne burst through Hermione's door, interrupting her thoughts. "Come on, have you even picked out a pair of robes yet?" Hermione shook her head. "Ugh!" Daphne placed her hand over her heart, sighing dramatically, "First impressions are very important!"
"I know! I was just thinking!"
"Well, I'm going to pick one out for you then," Daphne looked over each of the robes laid out on the floor. "Not that one... no, that's a little too formal...that one you wore already twice this summer, you ought to wait at least half a year to wear it again, if you're even going to wear it again, a-ha!" Daphne triumphantly pulled up lavender colored robes with a knee-length skirt and a white blouse. Hermione put them on and looked into her mirror.
"Thanks Daph, it looks great!"
Daphne blushed, "Aunt Cissa thinks I should go into designing witches' robes when I'm older."
"That's great, Daphne! You should totally do that. Aunt Cissa knows quite possibly everything that there is to know about fashion, so if she says that you're good, then it means you're brilliant at it." Hermione paused. Aunt Cissa, who wasn't actually their Aunt, just their godmother, was the most fashionable woman Hermione knew, and that included her mother, "And I've always known that you are. Plus, you can draw like super well, and that's like half of designing already, isn't it?"
Daphne ducked her head, "Sure. Let's go see if Stori's up yet."
They raced to the door and flung open the door across the hallway that led to their younger sister's bedroom. Astoria was already up, bouncing around the room in excitement, her platinum blonde hair trailing behind her as she bounded across the room. She turned to see her older sisters staring at her and giggling. "What?" she demanded, "I'm excited for you!" Her expression turned a little sullen, "I wish I could go with you to Hogwarts this year."
"Sorry, 'Stori," Hermione said, "Two more years."
"Ugh!" Astoria flopped back onto her bed, "That's for-ever away!"
Hermione laughed, "Between you and Daphne, I don't know which one of you is more overdramatic."
"Hey! I am not as overdramatic as Daphne is!" Astoria protested.
"Fine, I see how it is," Daphne exclaimed in faux-hurt, "You know, I was going to tell you that Mippie is making chocolate chip pancakes for breakfast, but I guess n-"
Astoria sat straight up. "Chocolate chip pancakes?" She tore past the twins and ran straight through the hallway towards the stairs.
"Well someone's energetic this morning," Hermione grinned wryly.
"I am not half as overdramatic as Astoria is," Daphne grumbled.
"Fine," Hermione conceded, "But you're still pretty dramatic. But I love you for it."
Daphne grinned. "Race you to the dining room?"
Hermione's grin matched Daphne's. "You're on."
When Daphne and Hermione arrived in the dining room, panting and out of breath. Daphne threw her hands into the air and declared "I won!" to Hermione's protest "Did not!"
They looked up to see their mother and father sitting at the table, looking amused. Astoria's face was obscured by a pile of pancakes taller than she was.
"You know, if I didn't know better," their mother began wryly, "I'd say that we have two little lions on our hands."
Hermione and Daphne gaped and sputtered their protests.
"We're Slytherins!" Daphne declared, "See?" Both Hermione and Daphne stiffened, straightening their back, their expressions becoming decidedly haughty. The pair of carefree girls transformed into the peak of aristocracy and above it all-ness.
"Good posture," their mother smiled.
Father put down the Daily Prophet and grinned, "And Selene and I will be proud of you no matter what house either of you gets into. Now sit down and eat some breakfast, Mippie made it special for you."
Hermione and Daphne sat down and piled pancakes onto their plate and started eating.
Their mother, Selene Greengrass, nee Rosier, was the epitome of what Hermione wanted to be when she grew up: beautiful, clever, and wickedly intelligent. She wore her hair in her signature chignon, wrapped tightly at her neck. She was a carbon copy of what Hermione thought Daphne would look like when she was older. Their father, Hyperion Greengrass, meanwhile, was the most intelligent person Hermione knew. A savvy businessman, he had significant stock in what felt like countless wildly successful magical businesses. He was a major shareholder of The Daily Prophet, Nimbus Broomsticks-as well as a company for broomsticks that was still developing a broom called a 'firebolt', and Floo Powder, and he held some stock in Magical Menagerie, Odgens Firewhiskey, and Honeydukes… and that was just off the top of her head! But what Hermione admired the most about her father was that he sat on the Most Ancient and Noble Seat of Greengrass on the Wizengamot, writing and voting on laws that governed how their very society worked. It was a seat she would inherit one day when she was of age.
As Hermione finished her pancakes, the clock struck nine. "We need to leave in half an hour if we want to get to the train in time for you to find a nice compartment," said Selene.
Mippie popped into the room, "Mippie be's packing sweets for the ride to Hogwarts for Mistress Miney and Mistress Daphne," she announced proudly.
"Thanks, Mippie, but isn't there a trolley lady?"
Mippie harrumphed primly, "Trolley ladies not be selling all the sweets. Mippie knows she's not be selling Salt Water Taffy, or Charm Choc. And theys every flavored beans not be sorted through like Mippie does, no. Mippie be's able to tells which beans be bad. She's be packing only the good ones for her Little Mistresses. And," Mippie grinned smugly, "Mippie be packing a cake and cookies for Little Mistresses and friends to share. She even be packing butter cookies for Miss Hannah."
"Thanks Mippie!" Hermione smiled.
"Can you send us your cakes and cookies during the school year, Mippie?" Daphne asked.
"Only if Little Mistresses do good in school. Mippie be wanting at least A's and EE's," Mippie announced stubbornly and then her voice turned conspiratorial, "And if Little Mistresses be doing really really good, Mippie's be sending even more."
Hyperion chuckled, "Thank you, Mippie. With that encouraging them, we're going to have the top students at Hogwarts."
"Mippie's Little Mistresses be smart," Mippie declared.
"That they are," Selene smiled warmly, "But just in case you want anything from the Trolley, here's some galleons to get you through the trip. Hermione took the handful of galleons and dropped them into her already bulging bottomless bag for her money. "Gracious, Hyperion!" Selene exclaimed, when she noticed the bag, "How much did you give them?"
"Five hundred galleons each," Hyperion flipped the page of his newspaper, not even looking up.
"Five hundred each? They aren't even allowed into Hogsmeade this year, whatever could they need all that for?"
"Have you forgotten how much betting went on in Slytherin?"
"Oh," Selene's eyes filled with understanding, "Well, send a letter with Persephone if you need any more at any point during the year. Try not to bet more than twenty galleons at a time, and even then only if you are certain you'll win, or that you can rig it so that you will. Stick with five for bets you're less certain of." Hyperion snorted from behind the newspaper.
"If you must lose, Daphne, I suggest you lose to Theo. It'll end up yours again eventually."
Daphne went crimson. She had a betrothal contract with Theo that had been made up when they were little when Selene discovered that Theo and Daphne had a soulbond.
"Oooh," Astoria sang, "Someone's got a cruuuuuush!"
"Well, he is my soulmate," Daphne snorted, "I'd sure hope I had a crush on him."
"Point goes to Daphne," Hermione laughed.
"I don't care! Boys are icky and gross and... no thank you!" Astoria proclaimed from her seat.
"Even me?" Hyperion folded his newspaper down and looked at Astoria.
"No of course not, Daddy! I suppose you, Uncle Lucius and Uncle Helios aren't icky and gross. But that's it!" Astoria threw her nose up in the air, as if that ended the matter.
Hermione, meanwhile, was exchanging glances with Selene, and both were trying not to dissolve into laughter. "Well, maybe one day, not all boys will be icky and gross," Selene amended. Astoria looked like she wasn't so sure.
"Before we leave, I want you two to remember to keep practising your Occlumency. As I've told you before, Dumbledore is a legilimens, and I don't want him poking around inside your head. Particularly not yours, Mia. In fact, try to never be with him one on one, and if you must, make sure you bring Professor Snape along with you, or whomever your Head of House is should you be sorted elsewhere."
Both girls nodded, and Hermione's stomach clenched like it did every single time she thought about someone getting past her Occlumency shields and mucking about in her brain.
Skippie popped into the dining room with two large trunks. Hermione was rather grateful that her family could afford Endless-Extendable Trunks-400 galleons each!-because she knew that with her books and clothes and robes and decorations for the dorm room, even a normal magical trunk wouldn't have been able to hold all of her stuff. She wondered if Muggle-borns even knew to get magical trunks or if they tried to fit their entire wardrobe for the whole year into a standard sized non-magical trunk. Not that Hermione knew how big they were on the inside, but she assumed that, unlike magical trunks, non-magical trunks were the same size they appeared to be on the outside.
Hyperion checked his watch. "IThink it's about time to get moving. We're going to Floo onto the platform. Astoria, you're going to go with your mother."
"Awww," Astoria pouted, "I'm nine! And a half! When can I floo by myself?"
"We'll let you start flooing on your own when you turn ten," Selene soothed Astoria, who brightened considerably.
"Deal!"
Hermione picked up her trunk-thank Merlin it was equipped with a feather-light charm-and walked to the Floo room. Skippie, Mippie and Pippie were waiting by the side, each of them with tears in their eyes, holding a handkerchief.
Her father went through first. "Platform 9 ¾'s," he announced, and he was swallowed by the green flames. Daphne followed him through, and then Hermione stepped into the fireplace.
"Platform 9 ¾'s," Hermione's voice rang through the Floo room, and the pale blues and whites of the Floo room dissolved and reformed as bright reds, blacks and golds of the Hogwarts Express and the platform. The platform was slightly busy, but certainly not anywhere near its most crowded.
Mask on, Hermione thought to herself, as her entire demeanour changed. She stepped out of the fireplace gracefully and stepped to the side where Daphne and her father were waiting, their expressions aloof. Hyperion silently cast a Scourgify so that Hermione's robes were cleaner than they would've been brand new. After a couple of seconds, Selene and Astoria walked out of the Floo, Selene casting Scourgify over each of them as they walked. Hermione internally laughed at the wonder hidden behind Astoria's eyes in a careful mask.
"One would think the Platform is never cleaned," Selene sniffed, "Come, let's find the Malfoys." Hyperion held out his arm, and Selene took hold of it.
"Lucius always shows up at 9:30, so he should be around here somewhere," Hyperion said, his lofty voice cutting through the chatter of the other families on the platform.
Hermione's eyes landed on three heads of platinum blonde in the crowd, "Father, I think I see them." She tilted her head slightly in the direction of the Malfoys. Her father's eyes caught the platinum blonde hair and he took the lead.
"Lucius, Narcissa, Draco, you're all looking well," Hyperion's voice boomed.
Hermione saw Lucius's wand flick and heard the telltale buzz of muffliato.
"Hyperion, how are you doing?" Lucius's smirk broke onto his face. He turned to the twins and asked, "Are you two ready to go to Hogwarts?"
"Oh, for sure!" Daphne gushed, the warmth in her voice making up for the coolness in her stare. Just because they couldn't be heard didn't mean that they could let their masks down. That was for private settings, or at least not when all of the Greengrasses were together. If anyone were to look at them, they had to think that the Greengrasses were just what they thought: cold, aloof, and cutthroat.
"Hey Draco!" Hermione said, pushing the smile through her voice.
"Hermione," he smirked, "Daphne."
"I feel rather forgotten," Narcissa sniffed in faux-hurt, "My favorite godchildren haven't even said so much as a hello to me yet!"
"We could never forget about you, Aunt Cissa," Astoria stated with the utmost seriousness.
"Stori, nobody can hear us," Daphne admonished, "You can talk normally."
"I know," Astoria's tone didn't falter, "I just can't talk normally without my face making expressions I don't want it to make when I'm trying to be all fancy. I'm just too expressive."
Aunt Cissa looked like she was holding back laughter, "That's alright, Astoria. You can come over this week and we can work on that. After all, I'm going to have an empty house!"
"Cissa, if I didn't know better, I'd think you're trying to steal my own child from me! I'd have an empty house without Astoria!" Selene exclaimed.
"Yes," Narcissa tilted her head, "And what are you going to do about it?"
"Stop it!" Astoria said loftily, "You're going to make me laugh and then I'm going to break my mask. It's not fair that you're all so much better at it than I am. Life is so unfair! I can't Floo alone and I can't talk normally with my mask on! I'm nine and a half for Circe's sake! It's like I'm a baby and I can't do anything!"
Daphne and Hermione exchanged amused glances. "That's not true," Narcissa placated, "I know that you can ride a broomstick, and a horse. You even know French, Latin, Spanish, and you're learning German! You can most certainly do many things."
"Yeah, but Mia and Daphne can fully speak German and they also know Italian," Astoria grumbled.
"Hey, none of that," Hermione chided gently, "I know Daphne couldn't speak any German at your age."
"And Daphne can't play the violin like you can, Astoria," Draco grinned.
"And your calligraphy is prettier than hers."
"And she's thumbs at-"
"Hey!" Daphne interrupted, "What is this? Draco and Hermione gang up on Daphne day? Draco, you can't even play piano, and Hermione, I know that you're the worst one out of all four of us at riding a broom by far!"
Hermione let a small grin crack through her mask, transforming it into something more akin to a smirk. "Stori, you're pretty great at a lot of things. Just because you can't speak German and Italian yet and you can't floo alone or talk normally with your mask on doesn't mean that you won't be able to do it soon."
"Draco, girls," said Hyperion, "Why don't you say your goodbyes and go and find a nice compartment before all the best ones get taken? We can wait here for you if you want us to see the train off."
"Yeah, that would be nice," Daphne said, "Plus 'Stori probably wants to see the train leave."
"Remember to let Persephone fly to Hogwarts, I'm sure she's been aching to make a long flight," said Hermione.
"Ulysses probably wants to stretch his wings too," Draco informed his parents.
Hermione went to hug Uncle Lucius goodbye, and he squeezed her affectionately. Aunt Cissa's hug brought on a promise to write at least once a week. Astoria's hug almost brought on tears from the younger sister, who sniffed them in.
"Send lots and lots of pictures!"
"Pictures?"
"Astoria!" Hyperion moaned, "That was going to be a surprise."
"Surprise?" Daphne asked.
Hyperion pulled two box shaped gifts out of his pockets. "Unwrap them, but I'm pretty sure you already know what they are." Hermione pulled out a box of film and Daphne's eyes shined at the camera in her box.
"Thanks, Daddy!" Daphne beamed.
The clock chimed ten, and Hermione and Daphne hugged their parents goodbye before following Draco onto the train.