Ok, I've been getting a lot of angry reviews about the events in this chapter, and I'm going to address it at the end of this chapter. Please read the end note before you leave a review on this chapter.

Platform 9 ¾ was full of people. The family of four stood together in the mass of moving people as the two children stared in awe at the scarlet steam engine.

The moment was made a little less special by the wailing child beside them. The boy, who looked to be about four, appeared to be upset by the fact that he was not allowed to go with his siblings. He pointed at his sister as she vanished onto the train, threw his head back, and howled.

Lucius, who was watching this display with a curled lip, muttered something about "children in his day…"

Narcissa plastered a grin on her face, and turned to smooth Hermione's travelling cloak. "Remember, darling, Turnip is not allowed in the Great Hall, or in classrooms."

Turnip, who was chewing something he'd found on the ground, smiled his doggish grin up at them. He was freshly groomed, and sporting a new leather collar and lead.

Smiling patiently at the unnecessary reminder, Hermione nodded, "Yes Mother."

"If you have an 'unexplainable' go straight to Severus or Albus."

"I will." Hermione felt uncomfortable at the mention of those strange emotions that overpowered her without warning. She carefully cast a glance around to make sure no one had overheard.

"And look out for your brother. Even if you aren't in the same house."

Draco looked affronted at the idea that he might need 'looking after', but Hermione laughed.

"Of course I will. Someone needs to."

Draco scowled at her, and scuffed the toe of his show against the ground. A faint pink blush was visible on his cheeks. His hair was freshly shorn, and it lacked it's shiny layer of hair gel. As a result it fluffed out around his head like a soft layer of down.

Lucius clapped him on the shoulder, "And you look out for your sister."

The boy looked up gratefully, "I will."

"That's my brave boy," gushed Narcissa. She pulled Draco to her, and kissed him all over his face in a rare public display of affection.

Turnip's sky blue ears darkened slightly, and Hermione felt her father's arm wrap around her shoulder.

"Try not to argue too much with your teachers, sweetheart. I wouldn't want you to spend all of your time in detention."

She rolled her eyes, but didn't pull away. Now Turnip was several shades darker than he was when they entered the platform. "I love you, Papa."

She felt him kiss the top of her head, "I love you too. Now come on, we'd better get Turnip's basket into your compartment." He released his hold on Hermione, and went to grab Turnip's basket. "Come on, Cissa, let the boy breathe."

They settled the children in an empty compartment, and said their final goodbyes. Hermione struggled not to cry when she saw her mother wipe away a tear. Even her father's eyes seemed unusually bright as he hugged Draco goodbye.

"We'll see you at Christmas," Narcissa promised as Lucius tugged her from the compartment, "Don't forget to write!"

The compartment seemed much smaller without their parents. Hermione, who had been sitting across from Draco, moved to sit beside him. "At least we're together," she sighed.

He nodded, and stroked Turnip's ears. There was a smudge of their mother's lipstick on his cheek, and she reached to rub it off.

"Leave it," he whispered, his voice strangely hoarse. "I'll take care of it later."

She lowered her hand, and let her eyes wander to the open door of the compartment. Several other parents were helping the younger students get settled, but for the most part the students ran wild. There were shouts of greeting, and bursts of laughter- both on the train and from the platform. For the first time, Hermione wondered if she should have been more social with the children her mother kept inviting to the Manor.

"That's the boy," Draco said suddenly, sitting up straight. "The boy from Madam Malkins," he lowered his voice to a whisper, "the muggleborn. You should invite him to sit with us so that he doesn't get lost."

Hermione jumped to her feet and looked out into the corridor, "Hey, boy!" she felt a little silly for not knowing his name, "From the robe shop!"

The boy looked around, his green eyes wide and unsure. He looked about as overwhelmed as Hermione felt. "Come sit with us?" She asked, opening her compartment door.

"Thanks," he said, lugging his trunk and owl back down towards their compartment. There was a small struggle as Hermione and Draco helped him secure his trunk, and then the boy collapsed, red-faced and sweating, into the seat opposite them.

"I'm Hermione Malfoy," she said, holding out her hand.

The boy took it, and panted out "Harry Potter."

The siblings exchanged looks, as if deciding not to over-react to this news. Draco smiled, and reached out, "And I'm Draco Malfoy."

"Pleasure to meet you," the boy said, reaching up to pat his hair down. "I didn't know that we're allowed to bring dogs to school."

"Hermione is," smiled Draco, "Uncle Albus gave her special permission because Turnip is… special."

Turnip chose this moment to scratch lazily at his ear. His tail thumped loudly in the compartment.

"I can see that," Harry grinned.

Draco apparently wanted to impress upon their new friend just how special the wubble was, "He changes colors! It's really rare, but Turnip does it whenever-"

Deciding that he had said too much, Hermione elbowed him in the ribs.

"Ow! Hermione! What's- oh." Draco flushed, and quickly changed the subject, "D-do you have a dog?"

"No," said Harry wistfully, "But I have Hedwig. She was a gift from Hagrid." He smiled fondly at the owl, and Hermione got the impression that he had not been given many gifts before.

"She's very pretty," she said, noting how Harry flushed at the compliment.

"Our owls aren't nearly as pretty," added Draco. "And they're mean. Whenever we climb up to the owlery-"

"Owlery?"

The next hour was spent comparing Muggle and Wizarding houses. Both Malfoys were particularly impressed by muggle lighting, and Harry had a captivated audience as he explained how to use a light switch. He gently corrected Hermione's mispronunciation of "electricity", and gave a fascinating anecdote about a Muggle, a kite, and a lightning storm.

I have to tell Arthur, she thought, momentarily forgetting that she was angry with him. She smiled at the idea of the balding redhead running outside with a lightbulb in the the middle of a storm. It sounds just like him.

They were momentarily interrupted by a witch with a food trolley, and the three bought a mountain of sweets to eat while the siblings explained that their Manor was lit by torches and floating candles. Harry asked lots of questions about their parents, which they answered happily.

The conversation drifted to Hogwarts, and Hermione and Draco eagerly shared everything they knew about the castle.

"There's really a Giant Squid?" Harry gaped at them as he worked his way through his fifth chocolate frog. One of the chicken sandwiches that Narcissa (or, more accurately, Mardie) had packed lay half-eaten on his lap. "In the lake!?"

"Yep," confirmed Hermione with a smug expression. "Her name is Dottie."

Draco nodded solemnly, "Hermione named her when-"

He trailed off as the door to their compartment slid open, and a round-faced boy with an anxious expression looked in.

"Excuse me, sorry to interrupt. Have you seen a toad?"

There was a chorus of "No", and the boy's face crumpled. "Oh."

"We'll help you look though," volunteered Hermione. She dusted the crumbs from her lap, and got to her feet. "Turnip is really good at finding things."

"You don't want their help," said a grudging voice from behind Neville.

Neville looked back in surprise, and in doing so he moved enough for Hermione to see the redhaired boy who had spoken. To her surprise, the boy was glaring at her with so much venom that it made the hairs on the back of her neck stick up. There was a smudge of dirt on his nose, and his clothes were worn and patched.

"I'm sorry," she said, forcing a polite tone, "I don't think we've met. I'm Hermione Malfoy-"

"I know who you are," spat the boy. "And I know that you can never trust a Malfoy." He pushed his way past Neville, who was now grimacing apologetically at the other three, and made a show of looking all over the compartment.

Hermione noted with some satisfaction that the boy did not appear to know who Harry was. She was certain that if he had known he would not have tapped impatiently at his feet, as if Trevor were being held hostage behind Harry's muggle shoes.

Turnip growled irritably when the boy made to push him aside- presumably to check that the wubble was not sitting on the poor toad. The dog was now changing swiftly to orange-red as Hermione felt her anger broil inside of her.

"You've got something on your face," the boy remarked as he glared cooly at Draco, who scrubbed at the lipstick stain quickly.

"Satisfied?" she snapped when, at last, the boy had finished snooping through the compartment. "Or would you like to examine our trunks as well?"

For a moment she thought that the boy would take her up on the sarcastic offer, but Neville's anxious call of "Ron!" seemed to make him change his mind.

"That toad had better be unharmed when we find it," he growled, staring menacingly at her.

Draco, who had up until this point remained silent, jumped to his feet. "Are you threatening my sister?" Two spots of pink appeared on either of his cheeks, and his eyes were shiny with fury. He reached for his wand, and Hermione felt a jolt of surprise as Harry did the same.

Neville now had a hand around Ron's elbow, and was doing his best to pull the boy from the compartment.

"S-sorry!" He muttered, blushing furiously as he pushed Ron away from them.

The silence that permeated the compartment once Neville and Ron had left was suffocating. Hermione could feel her cheeks burning from embarrassment and confusion. She had never met the boy before, and she was certain that she had never done anything to cause the hateful look in his eyes.

Her thoughts were interrupted by Draco's voice.

"- I'll bet he's a Weasley. All the Weasley's have red hair, and Father says they're, well, a bit different from the rest of the old families."

"Old families?" Harry leaned closer, his face practically glowing with curiosity.

The boys became engrossed in a conversation about wizarding family trees- something Hermione would normally love to talk about, except that she was too surprised to think about anything other than the boy.

Could that awful, rude boy be one of Arthur's children? There was a resemblance, but she could never imagine Arthur looking at her like that. She pulled Turnip close, resting her chin on his soft head, and glowered at nothing in particular.

Slowly, the sky darkened, and the three changed into their school robes. The uneasiness ebbed, and was replaced by excitement. Soon she would be sitting at the Slytherin table with Draco, and maybe even Harry. Her parents would be so proud of her, and she knew she would help Slytherin win the House Cup at the end of the year.

With these thoughts running through her head she kissed Turnip goodbye (Uncle Albus had already warned her that Turnip was not allowed in the sorting) and promised to see her in a few hours.

"You'll see the Slytherin common room and dormitories before I do," she whispered, feeling as if Turnip could understand every word, "If there's a bed by a window will you claim it for us? Uncle Severus says that we can see the Giant Squid from the windows sometimes."

Turnip gave a little bark, which Hermione took to be a 'yes'. With a huge smile on her face, she joined Harry and Draco in the crowd of first-years that followed Hagrid. They shared a boat across the lake- joined by Theodore Nott, who looked as if he would be sick the whole ride.

"It's beautiful," breathed Harry when the castle came into view. Draco nodded his agreement, his mouth hanging open.

"You've seen it before," teased Hermione, giving her brother a nudge.

He grinned at her, "Yes, but never at night!"

She laughed, but had to agree that the effect was stunning. The castle looked equal parts stately, spooky, and inviting. The candlelit windows were reflected in the lake water, and when they clambered out of the boats Hermione was struck by how big the castle seemed.

Hagrid led them to a tall, strict-looking woman who introduced herself as Professor McGonagall. As McGonagall gave an impressive speech about rules and House points, Hermione could feel someone looking at her. She turned to see Ron's eyes glinting in the candlelight, a scowl on his face.

Unconsciously, she edged closer to her brother. Some part of her understood that this boy had decided that she was the enemy, and while she itched to put him in his place (how DARE he judge her before he even knew her!) she was keenly aware that she needed to make a good impression on her first day. Besides, Slytherins take care of their own, as Uncle Severus alway said. When she was safely settled in Slytherin no one would harm her. Especially not a dirty-faced brat.

Then the first-years were being led through the Great Hall, and all of Hermione's being was rapt with attention. While the other students 'ooh'-ed over the Sorting hat, she drank in the starry ceiling. Of all the rooms in Hogwarts that she had been privileged with entering, this was her favorite. The candles flickered excitedly over the long tables, and hundreds of eyes shimmered back at her.

She listened to the Sorting Hat's song with a strange delight. It wasn't everyday that she was in the presence of talking garments. The line "You'll make your real friends" resonated with her. While she was very close to her brother and her parents, she had never been the sort of girl who surrounded herself with friends. The idea of having someone else to talk to was welcomed, and she glanced hopefully at the prestigious table of Slytherins.

At the staff table she saw Dumbledore grin at her. There was a strange twinkling in his eye, as if she were a prize pig he had spent years fattening up- and market day had finally come. It made an uncomfortable feeling grow between her stomach and her throat. She gave an involuntary shiver, and decided that her imagination was running wild again.

Then the ceremony began.

Hermione felt a tingle of excitement as the first student walked nervously to the stool and allowed the battered hat to be placed upon her head.

When the hat gave a great cry of "HUFFLEPUFF!" Hermione could not help but smile at the enthusiastic claps and grins that met the student as she joined their table.

Her eyes wandered over to the Slytherin table, where the much more subdued student clapped politely- their expressions bored. Would they be excited when she joined their table?

She decided that it didn't matter. Draco would be there with her, and she knew nearly everyone in Slytherin anyway- their parents had forced them to socialize since their infancy. Severus would be glad, even if he didn't show it outwardly she knew that the man was fond of her.

Looking sideways up at him, she was surprised to see that he was looking back at her. Only his gaze wasn't warm or encouraging, as she had expected. He was watching her as if he expected her to burst into tears at any moment.

But why? She puzzled over this, feeling as if he knew something that she didn't know.

She was pulled out of her thoughts, however, as Draco clasped her hand.

"I'm next!" He whispered excitedly, his face glowing.

McGonagall's voice cried high across the hall, "Draco Malfoy!"

He strode towards the stool proudly, flashing a smile at her as he took a seat. The hat barely brushed the top off his head when it shouted out-

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

For a moment, Hermione thought that she had misheard. But the look of shock on her brother's face told her that she had not.

McGonagall gently pushed the boy towards the Hufflepuff table, who were greeting him just as enthusiastically as they had the other new Hufflepuffs.

As he sat down, his eyes met hers, and she felt a pang as she noticed how worried he looked. She forced herself to grin broadly at him, and made a show of clapping loudly.

This seemed to comfort him somewhat, and he gave a small smile as an older boy clapped him on the back.

"Hermione Malfoy!"

This was it. The moment she had been waiting for. She felt as if she were floating towards the stool as she took a seat on the stool and waited for the hat to put her in the only house she had ever dreamed of being sorted into.

Hermione Malfoy. Hmm. Interesting… Very interesting.

Hermione's brows knitted together as the hat mused in it's strange, drawling voice.

Of all the students I've sorted in the last few decades, few have been as steadfastly assured as you about their placement. Even the Slytherins have their doubts- though most forget the moment I shout- Curious. Very curious. You have the pride- oh ho! I can see that plainly. Shrewd, yes, very. Cunning, yes. Traditional- well I think so. Resourceful, anyone can see that. Ambitious… well, I would be surprised if you weren't Minister one day…

So why is it taking so long? Thought Hermione. If the hat was so certain that she held all of the qualities, why didn't it say that she belonged in Slytherin?

Ravenclaw would be an excellent fit. You certainly are intelligent, and I think that it would provide the perfect atmosphere for you- but you don't like that, do you? No, I can see that wouldn't work. You would be far too restless in Ravenclaw. Knowledge for you is more a tool than a prize-

Nor would you be a good fit for Hufflepuff. Your brother, now he was a perfect fit. Very family-oriented, that boy. But others have great plans for you, Hermione Malfoy, and I can see that their scheming has already left an imprint on your mind. No, Hufflepuff is not correct.

But Gryffindor…

The hat grew silent, and for a moment Hermione was convinced that she had broken it. A cold trickle of sweat was crawling down her spine.

Finally, the hat spoke again. Bravery suits you. You are very stubborn, and you've got nerve. I think your friend will be annoyed when she finds out- which suits me just fine. She said some rather nasty things during her own sorting-

Hermione was too panicked by the implication that she might not be placed in Slytherin that she did not register the last part of that statement. "I'm going to be a Slytherin!" She said out loud, clenching her hands into fists.

And you would be an excellent fit in Slytherin. But I am forced to maintain the strict regulations that the founders placed on their houses, and Salazar Slytherin was adamant that only the Pureblood children should be allowed in his house.

Bile filled Hermione's throat.

Unfortunately, your drop of purity does not negate the fact that your birth parents were Muggles-

"I'm a Malfoy," she whispered, "My parents are Lucius and Narcissa-" her voice broke, and she felt the hot sting of tears in the corners of her eyes.

I can see very well who your parents are. I have no doubt that you're a Malfoy- And you will be the first Malfoy that I've ever placed in-

"GRYFFINDOR!"

He shouted the last word, and the hall burst into applause. The hat was pulled from her head, and she looked up into McGonagall's approving face.

"Th-there's been a mistake," she squeaked, trying very hard not to cry.

McGonagall shook her head, and said gently, "There are no mistakes. Welcome to Gryffindor, Miss Malfoy."

Hermione felt as if the floor were about to fall from below her feet as she staggered to the Gryffindor table. A tall redheaded boy wearing a Prefect badge smiled encouragingly at her as she took a seat. She was too ashamed to look at her brother. Instead, she stared at the cutlery in front of her, her vision clouding with tears.

She was vaguely aware of Harry taking a seat beside her, and of a snide voice whispering "I can't believe that she's in Gryffindor!" She didn't need to look up to know that the voice belonged to Ron.

She sat in misery as food appeared on the golden plates before her. The smell was delicious, but her stomach churned at the thought of eating. This should have been the happiest night of her life. She should have been sitting with her fellow Slytherins, sharing a knowing smile with Uncle Severus, and teasing Draco about who would earn more House points.

Instead, she was surrounded by strangers. Loud strangers who had no qualms about spilling pumpkin juice all over the table.

It was a relief when the Prefect- Percy- led them all up the ever-changing stairs to Gryffindor tower.

There was a party planned, but Hermione headed straight up the stairs to the girl's dormitory. She had no desire to spend any more time than was absolutely necessary with her house-mates.

Pushing past the door that read "First Years" she was instantly met with a dark blue-almost black- flash of fur. Turnip gave a little whine as he jumped at her, licking her hands and pawing at her knees excitedly.

"Hello," she rasped. Her voice was thick with emotion, and she struggled not to cry as she looked around her new home.

The room was spacious and circular. There were three four poster beds with scarlet hangings, and she sighed in relief when she found that hers was next to the window. She undressed quickly, and crawled into bed. After making sure that the hangings were pulled tightly shut, she snuggled down into the soft covers.

The smell of the freshly laundered bed linens filed her nose as she buried her face against the pillow. Turnip, who always sensed when she was distressed, stretched out beside her. Gently, he licked the back of her hand.

In the safety of her new bed, the misery of the evening poured out. It started silently- with hot tears coursing down her cheeks. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, cast frantically around for something to focus on. Then they landed on the

Then the sobs began. Sometimes short and shallow, sometimes long and wrenching from somewhere deep inside, her cries filled the dormitory. She felt as if she couldn't catch her breath. How could this have happened? She would have understood if she hadn't had the traits, if she wouldn't have been a proper fit… but hadn't the hat said she did? To be rejected because her birth parents were muggles…

She felt a flash of hatred for them then- those muggles who brought her into the world and cursed her with their blood. Her real parents were pureblood, and absolutely perfect. If she had the power she would-

The hatred faded just as suddenly as it had come, and Hermione was left feeling worse than before. Her throat ached and burned. She heard Turnip give a low, mournful whine, and felt something in her break.

"I'm sorry!" she cried, wrapping her arms around Turnip and pulling him closer. Her tears fell faster than ever, and she sobbed uncontrollably. Nothing would ever be ok again, she was sure of it!

Then, a soft voice from deep in her mind purred, "Hush, little dove. I'm here. you're going to be alright."

A/N: I'm sorry it's taken so long for me to get this chapter out. My life has been extremely chaotic lately. But it's out now! Please let me know what you think!

And thank you so much for your reviews! They help me be a better writer, and they're the best form of motivation. ;)

ALSO- I know that non-Purebloods get sorted into Slytherin all the time. So do the adults in this story. Hermione does not know that, and she is too humiliated to talk about it with her parents. This is a major blow to her, but it's tragic enough to rip down the barrier between her and Bellatrix. Also, because a bunch of people have quit this story specifically because of this incident, I'm going to give you a spoiler (do not read beyond this point if you don't want a spoiler): Dumbledore magicked the hat to tell Hermione that on purpose. This is an important plot point and it does come up in later chapters. A lot. It's actually really important. Dumbledore really wants Hermione to remember that she's a Muggleborn. Hermione is really trying to forget. If you've made it this far thank you for reading. I know it's a horrible, contrived plot point, but I'm not going to change it. Dumbledore's not perfect, and Hermione needs a big emotional thing to bring down the barrier and make her more willing to put up with Bellatrix's current pureblood fanaticism.