September 1st 1991, 10:30 on Platform 9 ¾ the Floo flared and out stepped Regina Morrigan Grey and Harry James Potter, incoming first years. They clambered onto the red steam train. Ten minutes to ten, when the train started to fill up, Harry left the compartment to change into his robes. When he returned, they switched just as the train left the station. About a minute later, a redheaded boy knocked on the compartment door and Harry slid it open.

The lanky freckle faced boy plopped down into the compartment, saying, "I'm Ron Weasley. Blimey, you're Harry Potter."

"Yeah I am.'' Harry answered neutrally.

"And have you really got the… you know… the scar?"

"Lots of people have lots of scars. You're alive, and were alive at 15 months, but nobody goes around calling you the Boy-Who-Lived do they?" Harry sighed. "It's annoying really."

They sat in silence for a while after that.

Sometime later Hermione knocked on the compartment door with a shy looking round faced boy. "Have any of you seen a toad? Nevile's lost one. Oh, hello Harry. Where's Ray?"

"Come in"

Hermione and Neville walked into the compartment, and Harry shut the door.

Ron asked Harry, "Who's Ray? Your imaginary friend? Or your pet? Is that your owl?"

Harry replied, "No, that's my very real friend. Ray's her nickname, it's what her friends call her. Me and Hermione, we met her in Diagon getting our supplies."

"Then where is she?"

"I dunno," Harry answered. "Left a while ago, said she wanted to change into her robes and find her godmother's daughter."

Ron brightened, "What house do you think you'll be in? I think I'll be in Gryffindor. All 5 of my older brothers were in it, and so were my mum and dad. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin." Ron shuddered.

"And what's so wrong with Slytherin?" Harry asked Ron.

"That's the house You-know-Who was in. Not a single dark wizard that wasn't in Slytherin. Those slimy snakes are all evil, I tell you."

"How do you know Voldemort was in Slytherin if nobody knows his birth name? Because there's nobody named Voldemort who went to Hogwarts, that's for sure." Hermione asked Ron.

"Everyone knows, of course."

Hermione bristled at the useless explanation. The door to the compartment slid open. Ray stood in the doorway and answered Ron, "Now that's just rude. I think you'll be in Hufflepuff. They're the judgemental gossipers, according to Mother. And according to the same logic as you said, everyone knows Gryffindors are just brash idiotic Dumbledore bootlickers." She flopped into the compartment. "I'm Ray. Hey Harry, Hermione." Another girl with yellow and black striped hair walked in and sat next to her. "That's Tonks, seventh year Hufflepuff prefect, one of the few 'puffs who doesn't gossip about everyone. She's my godsister. Also don't ask for her first name, I'm the only one who can get away with using it, and that includes her mother."

Neville was nervous in such a large group of people, so he tried to back out, saying, "I need to find Trevor, that's my toad."

Tonks shrugged and cast, "Accio Trevor the toad" and a toad came zooming in through the open compartment door to Neville's lap.

Ron continued, "Anyway, which of the three good houses do you think you'll be in? Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, or Ravenclaw? Brave, duffer, or bookworm?"

Tonk's hair flared red. "My mother was a Slytherin, and she is a perfectly upstanding citizen of society."

Ron huffed, his face disbelieving, and pressed his nose against the window while the conversation turned to a debate about the most important position in Quidditch. About half an hour into the train ride, there was another knock on the door. Outside the door stood a pointed-faced, very pale boy. The only word to describe him would be albino.

When she saw him, Tonks smirked. Her hair changed to match his, though her eyes stayed at their previous violet. "Hello, cousin drakie-poo" The hufflepuff seventh year cooed at the eleven year old Draco Malfoy, who was trying very hard not to get too bothered by his older cousin. She was only a half-blood who was nearly born a bastard. Why did he care so much what she called him?

"Half-blood spawn of a mudblood who accidentally happens to be related to me, whose mother should have been formally disowned but wasn't," he nodded to Tonks, whose hair color had changed back to the fuschia she had been keeping it at for the last week.

Ray turned to her godsister, "Is he always like this?" In answer, Tonks only sighed.

"At this point, I would even prefer him to use my first name instead of that, which is what he always calls, me word for word."

Draco Malfoy cleared his throat. "I heard that Harry Potter was in this compartment." he stated in a way that made his overinflated ego seem to possess his mouth.

"Yes, he is," Harry answered, looking at the strange blonde boy.

Draco puffed himself up, imitating the albino peacocks his father kept around, that some people swore were related to the Malfoy family. "Well I'm Malfoy. Draco Malfoy. These are Crabbe and Goyle." Draco stated. Ron snorted. Draco glared at him. "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. Old robes, red hair, freckles, and a figure that shows the harpy you call a mother eats all your food for you. Weasley." Draco stated, crinkling his nose when he said Ron's last name.

Ron's top burst. "And who are you to talk? Bloody peacock who should have been expelled before you got on the train. We don't want the likes of you junior death eaters here. Slimy, evil little snakes, I tell you," he stated, looking at Harry in the end. Harry looked like he was being torn between defending a new friend he knew was clearly in the wrong or a newcomer who the aforementioned new friend didn't like, and who sounded just a bit like Dudley. In the end, he turned his pleading gaze to his first ever friend, begging that Ray could help. She did.

Ray gazed at each of the two boys in turn. "The Malfoy and Weasley family resolved their blood feud 3 generatiopns ago. And I thought Family was supposed to support each other."

Ron bristled. "Of course it does."

Ray looked at both boys. "Even cousins?"

"Obviously," Draco drawled.

"Well, then by your own words, both of you should have cut it before the first insult was thrown. And if I hear a single more insult to anyone here, you will have to test whether or not Madam Pomphrey will be able to fix you up before the hat starts singing."

Ron understood just enough to keep shut. His dad had got that same look in his eyes when Fred and George had tried to make Ron swear an unbreakable vow at six years old. Draco, however, did not like the threat and decided that his usual methods would be up to par. "You're probably just a filthy little mudblood. When my father hears-" Draco's survival instincts finally won over enough for him to audibly snap his jaw shut. He did, after all, have at least a modicum of self preservation.

Ray was standing up, her eyes blazing in fury. Her wand was right between Draco's eyes, humming a warning tone for its owner's opponent. "You are lucky. The only reason you are still untouched is because my mothers owes a life debt to your father's cousin, one Marlene McKinnon. If you utter that disgusting word one more time, you will see why your godfather feared my mother more than the wannabe Dark Lord whose brand he's worn for so many years. And I doubt your supposed high and mighty father would be happy that you called the daughter of Solomon Grey the m-word in a compartment with the Fawley heiress, the Longbottom heir, the Potter heir, and your own third cousin. And may I note that the Fawley, Longbottom, Potter, and Grey families were influential members of wizarding society while Malfoy was just a name for thieving sheep herders in the French mountains. If anything, your father most definitely understands power."

Draco was well and truly intimidated. He slunk out of the compartment, throwing, "I'll be two compartments down if you need better company" over his shoulder. Not that he'd ever admit to being intimidated, but that didn't need to be said.

Neville Longbottom was both confused and ecstatic. What the girl, Ray had said was true. He was ecstatic because there was living proof that somebody other than his grandmother and the owl that delivered his Hogwarts letter believed him not to be a squib. ON the other hand, she was so casual. Her father was The Solomon Grey, and though Magical Britain was more isolated from the world than they like to think, Nevile's Gran had taught him about the big names in other countries. And most people in the world were split as to who was the next coming of Merlin, Albus Dumbledore (mostly Britain), or Solomon Grey. And Solomon Grey's heiress wasn't that much of a secret either, though she was an enigma. He would have to write to his Gran and ask what she knew.

Ron, on the other hand, lost his meager brains yet again. "You're just another slimy snake. What does your mother owe Malfoy's cousin a life debt for, helping bribe her way out of death eater charges?"

Ray's cold burning temper snapped. The cabin's temperature lowered significantly, and if the mood were to start changing, they would believe a dementor was nearby. Her eyes glowed, though this time they were trained on a certain dumb redhead. "Ronald Bilius Weasley, I have had enough with you," Ray snapped. At the moment she looked less like a Ray of sunshine, and more like a Queen. "It seems you forgot your own dear grandmother and two great-aunts. Cedrella Weasley born Black, mother of one Arthur Septimus Weasley. Lucretia Prewett born Black, sister in law of the father of one Molly Weasley born Prewett. Muriel Prewett, sister to the father of one Molly Weasley born Prewett. All slytherins, and none were even as much as officially suspected of crimes. And if you really must know, my mother was sorted into Ravenclaw and then Pukwudgie, Thunderbird and Horned Serpent. She chose Thunderbird. My father had all four Ilvermorny houses choose him and he chose Horned Serpent." She was calming down, her eyes glowing less. "And do me a favor, get out, lest you run your mouth even more. When you grow up a bit more, and stop seeing the world in black and white, but start watching for the shades of grey and maybe even colors, then come talk to me."

Ron scurried out, looking very reminiscent of his rat, which he forgot under the animagus trapping wards on Ray's trunk.

Harry chose that moment to let loose his uncontrollable laughter. "Shades… of… grey…" he barely managed to choke out.

Ray sighed, looking back like the normal Ray Harry, Hermione, and by extension Neville had come to know. "Please don't. Next thing you know it becomes viral like what my mother told me happened when you father," she looked at Harry, "told his best friend Sirius Black to take something seriously. Mother says there wasn't a day that joke wasn't used at least once." She chuckled again.

"Sirius… as in Sirius Black… the one who…" Neville barely stuttered out.

"Yes, the one who is finally getting a trial in the mandatory Winter Wizengamot session, after a decade of Azkaban" Neville's eyes were wide. Hermione and Harry, on the other hand, were confused. "Sirius Black was accused of breaking the Fidelius Charm that hid the Potter Family until Halloween 1981 and then chasing down his friend Peter Pettigrew and killing him and thirteen muggles with a single blasting curse. And to make it worse, Azkaban is most definitely the least humane prison in the world. Every country except Britain has laws about who can and cannot be sent there. Everywhere except Britain, nobody can be sent to Azkaban unless there is irrefutable proof that they committed at least a dozen high crimes. And irrefutable is that even if one of the witnesses is recorded having a history as much as casting a lumos outside of School before turning seventeen, they cannot be used. Even Grindelwald was not sent to Azkaban, and he was the Dark Lord that caused World War Two for the muggles to become a world war for the magicals by imperiousing an Austrian painter named Hitlet, I think."

"Hitler," Hermione corrected.

"Well, even he wasn't sent to Azkaban to the Dementor, horrid creatures that destroy all the heat and happiness around them, and the so-called Dementor's Kiss looks like they bend down to kiss a person but they suck out their soul through their mouth. It's worse than death and is illegal everywhere except Britain, the only reason the ICW hasn't outlawed it is because of Albus too frickin many names and titles Dumbledore."

Neville was incensed. "Albus Dumbledore is a great man! Uncle Algie says so all the time!"

Ray snorted. "Yes, Dumbledore was also the one to ban the Aurors from arresting Algernon Longbottom on attempted murder charges of his Head of House. Twice. First with your grandfather, his own brother, then your father. He was also known as the secret keeper for your parents. And he was the one to allow Albus Dumbledore to place a block on your magical core, oh my."

Neville's eyes bugged out. He forgot his shyness and asked, "how do you know that?"

Ray sighed and mumbled something that sounded a lot like 'it was only a matter of time.' She let out her breath and said, "can you promise to keep this secret? How I know a lot of what I know is sort of kind of, alright it's borderline illegal. Worst case scenario, I get off because of my dual citizenship with the Ministry and MACUSA, where it is very legal, but I'd rather not."

Harry agreed immediately. At this point he would do just about anything for his friend who had saved him from an extra month at the Dursleys, and was trying to get him away permanently. Neville hesitated, but his curiosity won over. If it was legal in another country, especially under MACUSA, it should be fine, right? Hermione, after a moment's deliberation huffed but agreed.

After they agreed, Ray continued. "I can see magic. It's a type of family magic through the Fawley line. My great-great-grandfather Fredrick Fawley Sr. was the second to last Lord Fawley. His son, Frederick Fawley Jr. was the last Lord Fawley, his only daughter was a squib and ended up with a squib granddaughter, Jean Granger, who both produced a magical daughter. Hermione Granger. My mother was Head of House Fawley until about two years after when I was born."

"I was two when I had my first accidental magic!" Hermione exclaimed.

"Now my mother's just regent, as with magical houses only a witch or wizard can be Head of House. But if you want, you will be able to claim Head of House now that you're eleven, and are going to a magical school. Do you want to?"

"What does that mean," Hermione asked excitedly.

Ray pulled out the mirror she used back at Knockturn Alley, except this time she tapped it twice in two different places with her wand. It was now the size of a book and hanging on the compartment wall. Ray mumbled, "colloportus" at the door to lock it, and turning back to the mirror, said clearly, "Amara Grey"

A few seconds later, a face appeared in the mirror. The face that appeared in the mirror was obviously Ray's mother. "Gina, aren't you supposed to be on the train to Hogwarts?"

"Yes, Mother. I am. But guess who I found?"

"Gina, I knew you would find Tonks, and finding some fifth cousin once removed does not count as important news that can't wait for your nightly mirror call."

"Yes it can. Especially when that fifth cousin once removed is eligible for a Head of House position you hold regent to. Meet Hermione Granger, Heiress of House Fawley."

Hermione waved shyly at the screen.

Amara smiles at her. "Thank goodness. My magic has been pushing me to hand over the headship to you since September 19th, which I'm guessing is your 11th birthday. And since eleven this morning when your train left the station, I haven't even been able to cast spells. If you focus a little, you will probably feel your magic pushing you as well."

"But Mrs. Grey,''

"Just Amara. You're going to be my Head of House."

"M- Amara, what does it mean to be a Head of House?"

"Muggle-raised?" Hermione nodded. "A Head of House is like a Patriarch, a Lord or Lady of a noble house in muggle nobility. In wizarding culture, every family is a House, even if they sometimes have different last names. The Head of House is the most important in that house, the heir or heiress is the second. The Head of House also controls the wizengamot seat for the family and can place a proxy to vote, as well as controlling various other small things like trust funds, wards on family manors, and disowning. Disowning isn't actually done as often as it is rumored. For example, House Black, some of the most ruthless blood supremacists, did not officially disown Andromeda Black, Tonk's mother, even when she married a muggle-born, or Cedrella Black, when she married Septimus Weasley. It's kind of like in the muggle world, parents sometimes kick their kids out for something or other, that's what happened to Andromeda, for example. But old Arcturus refuses to disown her. I don't think an official disownment from a head of house has happened in the last century. It also grants you automatic emancipation, meaning nobody can forcibly influence you, and the Trace, a tracker for magic use in muggle areas for those under seventeen, doesn't apply to you. I would really recommend you take it, Gina, sorry Ray, is emancipated as well."

"Why is that so important?" asked Hermione

"So nobody can claim to be your magical guardian. How would you like to have Albus Dumbledore just claim to be your magical Guardian, and he does that a lot, and next thing you know he can dictate anything, from where you spend your summers, to what electives you can take, all the way to how you spend your money."

"You should do it, Hermione," Harry urged. "Ray helped me get emancipated and now I don't have to go back to the Dursleys, they're horrid, and Dumbledore put me there." Harry wrinkled his nose.

"Alright. I'll do it. But can I keep you as a proxy for all the complicated stuff?" Hermione asked Amara,

"Of course, dear. I've been doing it for years. Now it's very simple."

"No paperwork?!"

"No paperwork. This is magic, and the laws were set in a way so the ministry couldn't interfere. If the ministry tried to change those laws there would be riots for months. If there's anything the old families value more than the past of their houses, it's the future. So listen closely. Say, I, you full name, as the most direct heiress of House Fawley, do claim my rightful position as Head of House Fawley, with all that it entails. And then may magic judge my claim. But say the entire thing. I couldn't say the entire thing, as it doesn't apply to me, but you can. And remember, magic is all about intent."

Hermione took a deep breath in, then breathed out. "I, Hermione Jean Granger-Fawley-Rosier, as the most direct Heiress of House Fawley, do claim my rightful position as Head of House Fawley, with all that it entails. May Magic judge my claim." There was a blinding flash of light, and a signet ring with the crest of House Fawley appeared on Hermione's middle finger on her left hand.


A/N: Thanks for reading and commenting. I have seen how this story flows, so I will be updating every Sunday unless I have more than 5 extra chapters (I do not ,as of now), but I will let my beloved readers know if I do. Please read, share, favorite, follow, and review. I read every single one, and thank you to those who do review, favorite and follow. I know everyone says this, but it warms my heart that people are willing to read my writing. If you want to read some of my original stuff, I have a story I wrote last summer on Wattpad, my profile is Fictnlreality although I do have 2 more original stories work in progress, laying about my google drive in bits and pieces.

As to the challenge I have in the A/N of the prev. chappie, still active. feel free to review or pm me with any comments or ideas. If you think you know better, go you! That's some confidence. I will read any suggestions and give out virtual cookies to everyone who takes a minute to make some. Also, if there are canon characters you want to feature, please tell me. I am wide open for suggestions.

Also I know some people would prefer randomized posting an possible hiatus as long as i post as soon as I write, if I get more people telling me they prefer that than me posting regularly, I don't mind. I know I prefer reading that way.

Please note for those of you who followed my profile, thanks, but as for my favorite stories, I know I have a ton. Those are just about all the stories I rad and didn't abandon. I also use the favorites list to read these stories on my ereader, since blue screen radiation is proven to be harmful past sunset, so I try to avoid it.

Anyway, that's all I got, so adios!