A/N: I'm sorry for making you wait so long. I hope you enjoy this update. Don't forget to pop a review in the box at the bottom with your thoughts, hopes, and projections for the story! Much love! xx-Kitten.
Of Ticking Clocks & Beating Hearts
By Kittenshift17
Chapter 9: Platform 9 ¾
The morning of September first dawned drearily, rain clouds hung heavily over the world and Hermione didn't at all look forward to the train ride, knowing the weather would make the other students restless.
"Hermione, sweetheart?" Miranda called down the hall as the entrance hall clock began to chime out the hour, telling Hermione it was ten sharp.
"What is it?" Hermione called back, her eyes dancing wildly around her bedroom as she tried to make sure she had located and packed everything she might need for the upcoming year.
"Are you ready to go, love?" Eugene asked, popping his head inside the door as he went past.
"I can't find my other shoe," Hermione admitted with dismay, having located the left one but not seeing the right one anywhere in the mildly cluttered bedroom.
Eugene smiled at her, clearly sensing how nervous she was about going to Hogwarts. He pulled out his wand and summoned the shoe with ease. Hermione laughed when it came whizzing out from underneath the cat bed Miranda and Eugene had bought for her when they'd let her have a new pet.
Hermione had tried desperately to find Crookshanks, but hadn't been successful at finding the ginger-haired half-kneazle. Instead Hermione had settled for a scraggly little tortoise-shell kitten that she'd found all alone in the pet store in Diagon Alley. Immediately when Hermione had spotted her, Hermione had known the poor little kitten was in for a rough life without someone's intervention. Her colouring was rather unpleasant, if Hermione was honest, though her fur was long and incredibly fluffy. Hermione had named her Cleopatra and she was already in her carry cage waiting to be transported to Hogwarts with Hermione.
"Thank you," Hermione said solemnly, looking up to Eugene with a genuine smile.
"Panicking yet?" he asked, grinning knowingly.
"Just a little bit. The weather will make everyone on the train restless and it's going to be a terribly long day," Hermione sighed, "I hope I make some friends."
"I'm sure you'll be fine love," Miranda assured her, coming to the door to help Hermione with her things. Miranda and Eugene lived on a small acreage outside of Portree, so they would be driving to King's Cross station.
"I know. At least I'll have Nicholas to talk to, if no one else," Hermione sighed, "Will you still love me even if I'm sorted into a different house to either of you?"
"No matter what," Eugene assured her with a nod, "You know I was in Slytherin and Miranda was in Hufflepuff, but all of the Hogwarts houses have their own merit. With that intellect of yours you'd fit very well into Ravenclaw."
"I think I belong in Slytherin," Hermione replied, noticing idly that the couple shared a glance at the idea, knowing Hermione was muggle-born and so would have trouble making friends in the blood-prejudiced house.
"We'll see how you go sweetheart," Miranda smiled, "Let's get going so you don't miss the train. Do you have everything? Have you got enough money?"
"I've got everything," Hermione assured them both with a smile
With that they packed Hermione's trunk into the car and Hermione climbed into the back seat with Cleopatra's cage balanced on the seat beside her.
"Are you excited, Hermione?" Miranda asked her, turning in her seat as Eugene drove. Hermione smiled at the woman who'd adopted her.
"Yes," Hermione admitted, "And a bit nervous. I'm going to miss being at home with the two of you."
Miranda smiled widely at her statement and Hermione felt pleased to know she'd made them both happy by admitting that she would indeed miss their company. In the six months since she had arrived on this time line and first met Miranda and Eugene, the couple had grown on her quickly and she was very fond of them. They indulged her as people who can't have their own biological children tended to do, and they didn't look at her strangely when she spoke in mannerisms or acted in ways that exceeded her supposedly young years. Hermione appreciated that most of all, though she was worried that her lack of interaction with children of eleven years would result in her blurting out something too intelligent or mature-sounding to the people on the train and she feared they would think her odd.
Having only interacted with Professor Dumbledore and Nicholas via correspondence, and exclusively with Miranda, Eugene and the adult family members of both, Hermione had grown accustomed to speaking the way she normally would were she still in the body of a eighteen year old witch and while they had appeared mildly surprised to begin with, it was just one more thing they'd accepted about her.
"We're going to miss you more than you know, sweetheart," Miranda replied, "It won't be the same at home without you."
"I promise I'll write every week, if not more frequently," Hermione smiled, knowing herself well enough to know she would keep the promise diligently.
"Pinky swear?" Eugene asked her, offering her his pinky over his shoulder as he drove. Miranda copied him and Hermione wrapped both of her pinky fingers around each of theirs with a wide smile.
"Now," Miranda said, "We know you're a very mature young lady, but we want you to be careful Hermione. So many young witches and wizard's running around, suddenly with access to wands for the first time in their lives could land you in a sticky situation and we would just die if anything happened to you."
"I'll be careful, I promise," Hermione nodded, "I'll do what I can to pull the others into line as well. No duelling in the corridors if I can help it."
"We're not saying don't have any fun or to be a stick in the mud, darling," Eugene said, "But we want you to be safe."
"Of course," Hermione nodded, "I'm sure you'll read all about it in my letters. Can I bring friends home with me at Christmas?"
"Of course you can," Miranda smiled, "We've got plenty of room. The more the merrier."
"But not the whole school, mind," Eugene grinned.
"I don't imagine I'll befriend the whole school, Eugene," Hermione laughed.
"Aim for the stars, honey," Miranda grinned, "There's nothing wrong with being popular and well-liked by your peers for being nice and approachable."
Hermione grinned, wondering how nice and approachable she would appear when she began befriending people like Severus Snape and the many other wayward students on the list Dumbledore had given her.
"I'll see what I can do," Hermione replied, noting the incredible speed of the enchanted car they drove in order to get to the station on time before the train left.
"Oh, I can't believe you're off to Hogwarts already," Miranda sighed, "I'm going to miss you terribly, you know?"
"I'll miss you too," Hermione smiled, "But you know I have to go. Besides, I'll write so often that you won't even know I'm away and I know you're both expecting to be very busy at work. I'm sure having me out of your hair after such long days will be a relief."
"We'll have to go back to making our own dinner when we get home," Eugene complained and Hermione laughed.
"I'm sure it will be alright. I froze some of that casserole you like, and there's stroganoff in the chiller as well, portioned up for the nights when you're too tired to bother with anything else."
"You're a true delight, do you know that?" Eugene asked her when he pulled into the parking lot outside the train station.
"Well, I didn't," Hermione grinned, "But I'm pleased you think so. Don't go eating them all at once though, or you'll have to fend for yourselves on those nights when you come home bone tired and can't be bothered with anything else. I won't have you two falling to buying take-out every other night."
"Are we the parents here?" Eugene laughed, "Or are you?"
"I like to think it's a mutually exclusive partnership that requires your permission for me to make decisions and allow me to do certain things due to my age," Hermione told him, grinning cheekily.
"Cheeky," Miranda accused as they both laughed.
"I like taking care of you the same way you both take care of me. Besides, cooking is fun," Hermione shrugged, "And it's only fair that I help you out around the house. You both did me a huge favour by taking me in and being so good to me."
Miranda's eyes filled with tears at her words and Hermione squeezed her shoulder comfortingly, smiling gently. She really was rather fond of her adoptive parents here and she didn't doubt her affection would only continue to grow for them the longer she spent with them.
"Oh I don't want you to go!" Miranda sobbed a little as Eugene helped Hermione with Cleopatra's cage and then dug her trunk out of the boot.
"But we do want you to put that brilliant mind of yours to use learning all the magic you can and want you to have a wonderful time at Hogwarts," Eugene added, grinning a little while he rubbed consoling circles on Miranda's back as she tried to contain her emotions.
"I'll be back before you know it," Hermione reassured Miranda, patting her back comfortingly, "We need to get inside or I'll miss the train."
"She's right love," Eugene told his wife, peeling her off Hermione.
Hermione led the way in, pushing her trunk and Cleopatra's cage along on the trolley Eugen had found for her. Her adoptive parents trailed along behind her, Eugene murmuring words of comfort to Miranda.
"Be good, you hear?" he told her, trying to appear stern for a moment.
"I'll try," Hermione smiled, "Promise you won't fall to ordering take-out every night?"
"I'll see what we can do," Eugene nodded, "Do you need help getting your things to a compartment?"
"I'll be alright," Hermione assured him, noticing out the corner of her eye the sight of a boy who could only be James Potter. It seemed what everyone had ever told her was true, Harry certainly had looked exactly like James. The messy haired boy was hugging his parents goodbye cheerfully and Hermione was struck by the stark contrast of the fact that Harry had never had the chance to be bid goodbye by loving parents before boarding the Hogwarts Express for the very first time. Nor any other time for that matter. The very thought struck a poignant chord with Hermione and suddenly all the thoughts she'd been plagued by regarding the possibility of time-travel being a mistake left her.
Yes, she was bereft without her real parents, and yes, she missed her friends terribly, but as she watched James Potter kiss his mother and father goodbye, Hermione ached to allow Harry the same privilege.
"Well, have a good term, love," Miranda said, giving her a watery smile before pulling Hermione into another hug.
"You won't even know I'm gone," Hermione smiled reassuringly, "And when I come home for Christmas I'll hopefully have a friend or two in tow."
"You'll make plenty of friends, Hermione," Eugene told her, giving her a hug as well when Miranda released her, "Be safe. Be good. Study hard. Don't forget to write to us."
"I promise," Hermione smiled widely, nodding along with his instructions.
"You better get going, sweetheart. The train's about to leave."
Hermione gave them a brave smile and, collecting her things, she boarded the train carefully. It was mayhem on board as everywhere confused first years peered nervously into compartments. The elder returning students shoved and jostled the scared first years along, trying to locate friends they hadn't seen all summer. Hermione found herself being jostled by an older blonde boy whom, she realised with a start, could be none other than Lucius Malfoy. He looked entirely too similar to Draco to be anyone else and Hermione would know that sneering drawl anywhere.
"Aren't you Lucius Malfoy?" she asked when she felt him prodding her with his wand from behind.
"What's it to you, firstie?" Malfoy sneered.
"Nothing at all," Hermione answered, "I simply wondered. I've heard about you."
"Is that right?" he replied haughtily and Hermione cringed slightly when he gripped her shoulder, spinning her to face him before he looked her up and down speculatively.
"Just what things have you heard about me then?" he wanted to know, leaving Hermione feeling slightly like she'd been assaulted as a result of his scathing gaze being dragged over every inch of her. She could read judgement in his eyes.
"I heard you're the new Slytherin prefect this year," Hermione told him honestly, "When I noticed your robes and your badge, I wondered if you were Malfoy."
"Maybe I am," he replied, "You're either very brave or very foolish to be speaking to your betters so brazenly, little girl."
An outrageous indignation filled Hermione at his statement before she recalled that he had no idea of her name, her blood status or anything else about her.
"I disagree," she replied, adopting a haughty drawl she'd heard Draco Malfoy used a million times, "It's important to establish who can and cannot be trusted. I would hate to make certain intimacies that would prove ill-advised at a later date."
He eyed her speculatively for a long moment in silence, clearly having put aside his need to locate his friends for a few minutes in shock over her conversation with him.
"Indeed?" he asked, raising one pale eyebrow challengingly.
"Hence discovering if you are in fact Lucius Malfoy," Hermione nodded primly, "I'm Hermione Lyall-Granger."
She offered her hand to the boy haughtily.
"Lyall, eh?" he said, staring at her for a few moments more before finally shaking her hand. Hermione could honestly say it was a strange experience, but one she suspect might prove important at a later date. He was, after all, a Prefect and a Slytherin. She also knew he was already being groomed for joining the ranks of the Death Eaters, so it stood to reason that in her attempts to change things here, he would either be a powerful ally or a prominent adversary.
"That's right," she nodded. She had chosen to include the name of her adoptive parents as her own, realising that she would not at all be welcomed in Slytherin if she went about blabbing that she was muggleborn. They would turn on her faster than she could say Crumple Horned Snorcacks. Eugene had mention that he had been in Slytherin, indicating that there might be a few of the older students who were beginning school when Eugene had been in his final years. Maybe if they recognised the name they might think more amicably of her joining their ranks. Even if they did do the math and realise she was much too old to be Eugene daughter biologically.
"And what house are you looking to enter when you arrive at Howgarts, Lyall?" Malfoy drawled.
"Slytherin," Hermione answered without preamble, having no doubt that while she would indeed follow to whatever house Snape was put in, she knew it would be Slytherin.
"How very interesting," Malfoy smirked, looking intrigued now, "Well the first thing you should learn about being in Slytherin is to stay out of the way of your superiors. And you're in my way."
"A pleasure to have met you, I'm sure," Hermione retorted, turning back towards her trunk and her cat and beginning to haul them along the narrow train corridor.
"That tongue will get you in trouble, girl," Malfoy warned from behind her when he stopped a few compartments later.
"I'll be sure to take that under advisement, Malfoy," Hermione replied evenly, glancing at him over her shoulder. He held her gaze for a moment before he returned his attention to the compartment he was about to enter.
Hermione continued on down the corridor until she reached a compartment that bore the soul she was looking for. She didn't have to be a genius to spot Severus Snape sitting in a compartment with Lily Evans. Lily was a slight as Harry had been in first year, her green eyes all too familiar too Hermione and her vibrant red hair pulled into a messy ponytail. The dark haired boy with her could only be Snape. Hermione had learned before she'd left her own timeline that Snape had been picked on mercilessly by James and Sirius for his appearance, his shabby clothing and his fascination with the Dark Arts. As she surreptitiously peered through the glass into the compartment he shared with Lily, Hermione could hardly say she was surprised.
When she'd spotted James on the platform, he'd looked the epitome of a spoiled, pampered child. His robes had gleamed brand new, his trunk was shiny and stamped with his initials. In harsh comparison Snape was, for want of a better word, utter shabby. His clothing hung off his skinny frame as though it had been purchased too large. It also bore the marks of being second-hand, if the faded and slightly stained state of the fabric was any indication.
Hermione felt a surge of pity rise within her when she also noticed that his hair was long and unkempt, though looked slightly jagged in places. She suspected he might've tried to tidy it up himself with a pair of kitchen scissors, rather unsuccessfully. The poor boy was a walking sign-post of being from a poor family that cared little for him. So little that they hadn't bothered or couldn't afford to make sure he looked alright for his Hogwarts debut.
Unable to resist the urge to do something to help the poor boy, Hermione slipped her wand from her sleeve and surreptitiously pointed it under her arm and through the window of the compartment under the pretence of shuffling aside to let some senior students bowl past. She started with a cleaning spell for his person, though she didn't doubt he bathed, making sure to focus heavily on his greasy hair. Next she muttered a resizing charm for his robes, listening to the squawk of surprise that came from inside the compartment when the clothing shrank to fit him more snugly, whilst the length of his trouser legs extended slightly until they reached his somewhat shabby shoes.
She used a repairo charm to repair all the little holes and patches of wear on his robes and his shoes. She was grateful suddenly that, though she was still getting used to feeling as though her eighteen year old soul had been cramped into an eleven year old boy, she retained the magical abilities of an eighteen year old. It meant she was far smarter and far more powerful than her peers, which would undoubtedly be advantageous, but it also allowed her to manipulate certain situations - such as this one - to her advantage. One of her biggest goals was to try and prevent the instant and irrevocable hatred between Snape and the Marauders. If she could have them getting along, to some extent, it would make things easier and much smoother in the long run. Though she was worried that if there was too much amicability, Lily might choose to fall for Snape instead of James and thus preventing the saviour of the wizarding world from ever being born.
Hermione was walking a fine line between the butterfly effect and the common good of the world, and already it was tiring. Before she made any decision or took any course of action, she was needing to ensure that she considered how those actions would effect the overall outcome of the world she'd known in the future. It wouldn't do to have James and Lily not become a couple, thereby preventing Harry's birth. Similarly, it wouldn't do to work against fate and try to change things overmuch. She shuddered to think what might go wrong. Much of the time she'd spent since she'd arrived on this timeline had been dedicated to Arithmantic projections of possible futures as she tried to quantify what she could and could not change.
She had come to the conclusion that while she could prevent Snape being picked on for being quite so shabby and unattractive - hence drawing the mockery from his peers - she could not allow Snape and the Marauders to be friends. If that happened, Snape would never call Lily a mudblood and they might end up dating instead of fighting. That would be utterly woeful. As such, she made sure to provide him more suitable, if still second-hand and worn clothing, combined with personal hygiene, but she made no move to alter his poorly cut hair, nor to offer him any chance to fix his rather unfortunate appearance. His nose would stay as hooked as ever, his teeth as crooked and yellowed - though a toothbrush and a roll of floss might be in order (she was after all, at her heart, a Dentist's daughter - and his hair would remain, for the most part, as greasy and poorly styled as she'd ever recalled it. Even if she had discovered during a recent snogging incidence with his grown-future version, that his hair was in fact incredibly silky.
"Are you doing that Lily?" he asked in a suspicious voice, clearly alarmed by the changes. He'd jumped to his feet and pulled his wand, looking around darkly as though fearful of some foreign threat. Hermione took careful consideration of the way he asked Lily if she was responsibly, though continued to avoid pointing his wand at the redhead.
"I don't think that's the type of magic a first year could pull off, Sev," Lily Evans replied, "Maybe there's a charm on the train? You know I've only mastered silly little parlour tricks and a few of the easy spells from my textbooks."
Hermione tucked her wand into her sleeve hurriedly before she could get caught. Then she pulled open the rolling door of the compartment.
"Is it alright if I sit in here?" she asked politely from the doorway. She caught the way Snape narrowed his eyes at her and looked like he wanted to say no. She could see in a heartbeat that he and Lily clearly had known each other before that morning and that he guarded her friendship jealously.
"Of course you can," Lily Evans smiled kindly, those green eyes Hermione knew so well lighting up at the idea of making a friend.
"Thanks," Hermione said, hauling her trunk and Cleo's cage into the compartment.
"Oh, let me help you with your trunk," Lily offered immediately, getting up to hurry over and help Hermione struggle to get the large trunk into the overhead rack, "I'm Lily Evans."
"Thanks for your help. I'm Hermione Lyall-Granger," Hermione said offering her hand to Lily and smiling when the girl shook it.
"This is Sev," Lily said, waving her hand at Snape.
"Severus Snape," the boy told her, still eyeing her suspiciously even as he held out his hand and shook her hand as well.
"It's wonderful to meet you," Hermione smiled widely, "Do either of you mind if I let Cleo out? She doesn't much like being confined."
"What is it?" Snape muttered to Lily.
"She's a cat," Hermione admitted, prodding the sleeping feline awake as she opened the door, "I know she's not very pretty, but she loves to cuddle."
"I think she's lovely," Lily said, "My little monster is over there."
Hermione glanced in the direction of the seat beside Lily, suddenly noticing there was an enormous black fluffy cat stretched out along the top of the seat, fast asleep.
"Oh you've got one too," Hermione exclaimed excitedly, "I was worried everyone was going to have owls."
"Sev's got a snake," Lily grinned, waving a hand at Snape.
"Really?" Hermione asked, eyeing the boy again, "Can I see?"
"You want to see a snake?" Snape asked sceptically, raising his eyebrows challengingly in a way that was entirely Snape. Hermione felt a smile curl across her face at the sight of the well known expression her Potions Master so often wore. Seeing the expression on his eleven year old face was disconcerting and yet it had almost the same effect as when he was her teacher - she instantly wanted to prove him wrong.
"Of course. I love animals. They're fascinating. I want to work for the Ministry regarding the treatment of magical creatures within the wizarding world when I finish Hogwarts," Hermione announced, realising suddenly that it was true. In her own time, during the war, thoughts of what she would do after Hogwarts had revolved around helping Harry defeat Voldemort. Now that she had time to consider what she'd like to do, she realised she did want to improve the legislation surrounding the treatment of magical creatures like the house elves and several other, more intriguing species.
"You already know what you want to do when you finish school?" Lily asked sounding mildly awed.
"Don't you?" Hermione asked as Snape withdrew a three foot long, green python from his pocket, having to fish it's head out from under his shirt. If she had to guess from the way the beast was wriggling in his grip, coiling around his arms and hissing in warning, Hermione would suspect he'd caught it himself and had yet to tame it very well.
"I'm new to the magical world," Lily admitted, though Hermione noticed the way she eyed the snake warily. She was sporting a band-aid on her left hand, Hermione noticed, and it made Hermione think the snake had bitten her, "I don't even know the full realm of possible career choices yet."
"Your parents are muggles?" Hermione asked, smiling at her as she feigned ingnorance of truths she already knew for the sake of keeping her secrets.
"Yes. They were surprised but a little relived, I think, when my letter came," Lily admitted and Hermione could see the same naivety she'd had the first time she'd come to Hogwarts as a muggleborn witch.
"What about you Sev?" Hermione asked, looking at him.
"My mum's a witch," he answered grudgingly.
"What about your dad?" Hermione asked, feigning ignorance furhter as she probed for more information that he'd given her in her own time. Hermione saw a dark look pass over his eyes, anger flashing in those black depths at the questions. Lily cringed next to him at the mention of Snape's father and Hermione realised that what Snape had shared with her before her return in time about his father being abusive must already be applicable. He was abusive and a drunk. Hermione felt a twinge of concern for his safety, wondering idly if beneath those mis-sized robes he'd been hiding evidence of such abuse. She would have to think of ways to rescue him from returning home whenever she could. She didn't at all like the idea of a child, any child, being unsafe in their own home with their own families.
"Muggle bastard," Snape muttered under his breath.
"Can I hold your snake?" Hermione asked him, changing the subject quickly when she realised it was not a topic for a first encounter. That kind of information would have to pried out of the boy slowly over the coming months.
"He'll get away from you," Snape warned her, "He's wily. And he bites strangers. He bit Lily yestereday"
"I promise I'll hunt her down if she does. I'm not afraid," Hermione promised, taking the hissing reptile from Snape. She held it awkwardly from a moment, hissing in return with the beast struck at her exposed forearm viciously and drew blood.
"That wasn't nice," Hermione admonished the snake, ignoring the sting of the bite and the little trickle of blood that oozed over her skin, "Do you know if that she's female?"
"Male," Snape said, frowning a little, and Hermione caught the flash of begrudging admiration in his eyes that she didn't react poorly to being bitten.
"No, she's female. She's going to get much bigger than this, you know that don't you?" Hermione asked, twining the creature around her arm before she lifted it up to face height and looked it right in it's reptilian eyes.
"I know," Snape said, the expression vanishing in favour or suspicion once more as though he thought she believed him stupid.
"You're not going to bite me again, slithery one," she scolded the snake lightly but sternly. The reptile eyed her in response but made no further move to bite her now that she as supporting it's coiled body properly.
Both other occupants of the compartment eyed her strangely, Lily looking like she thought Hermine might be barmy and Snape looking like he couldn't believe the snake was behaving. Hermione wouldn't say she'd ever had much of a way with animals before, but she was making a more concentrated effort to do so, and it seemed to be paying off. At least a little.
"Does she have a name?" Hermione asked Snape serioursly.
"She?" he quirked an eyebrow as though wondering how she could possibly know it was a female snake.
"She's only half grown," Hermione told him, "And still young. Were she a male snake she would be older than she is. Males tend to be around four feet, where females of this species can reach up to six feet. Given her current size, in both length and weight, she's maybe only two years old and not yet fully grown. She'll get much bigger than this. If you cae for her properly, she might even grow longer than six feet. Do you know if she's a common green tree snake or if there's some magical species combined within her genetic make-up?
"Essy is her name," Snape responded, sounding mildly defensive, "And I don't know her species. I caught her in my backyard. I assumed, based her the fact that she got through the wards my mother erected to keep vermin out of our house, that she must be some subspecies of magical snake."
"Essy Snape," Hermione replied, stroking the snake's slender coils lightly for a few minutes before handing the python back to, "She's lovely. We could look into finding out her species if you like. I imagine there isn't a lot of crossbreeding between species, particularly between magical and muggle varities of serpent. You should work on teaching her to only bite on command though, for all we know her bite could be midly poisonous."
"If she were poisonous, we'd all be dead," Snape told her, holding out his hands to show that he too had been bitten several times by the serpent.
"Maybe so, but you never know. Perhaps she won't develop venom until she matures. Or perhaps her fangs are too small to deliver a does that does more than sting a bit," Hermione replied, "What's your cat's name, Lily?"
"Cygnus," Lily replied, fondly stroking the cat's thick black fur, "He's part kneazel."
Hermione caught the way Snape was bristling slightly over the idea of being told his snake might be a problem later, and clearly didn't like being so uninformed about his own pet, even if he had managed to catch it himself. She chose not to notice for the time being, knowing he was always bristling about something.
"I used to have a cat that was part kneazel," Hermione admitted quietly, thinking of Crookshanks even though she'd return to stroking Cleo's fur. She watched in mild fascination as Snape allowed his snake to slither up the sleeve of his robes. She tracked the progress of the reptile as it disappeared under his clothes, slithering up his chest and looping around the back of his neck. Hermione was surprised when the serpent nestled her head against his left collarbone while Snape fished the rest of her into the pocket of his trousers.
She'd never seen a tree snake do that, but then, she supposed the snake might be some magical breed she hadn't studied yet. She also realised he'd at least managed to tame it somewhat to behave when being carried on his person. Inexplicably Hermione was reminded of the way Ron had always carried Scabbers around in his pocket, before being devastated and at a loss when it turned out Scabbers was Pettigrew. For weeks she'd caught him stuffing random things in his pockets, trying to substitute the warm weight of his familiar. She imagined Snape would be the same, since it wouldn't be easy to keep a snake in the school without the proper caging and other things. Did he intend to be it's perch forever? Maybe he had some plan of keeping it on his bedposts at Hogwarts.
"Have you warned Lily about being muggleborn in the wizarding world, Sev?" Hermione asked when a strained sort of silence followed her announcement and her momentarily sad expression as she thought of Crookshanks.
"No," Snape admitted, wrinkling his brow a little as though surprised by the question and sudden topic change.
"She needs to know. Lily, in the magical world there are some wizards who believe in what they call blood purity. Meaning those of a purely magical bloodline. Some people might be cruel to you when they learn that your parents are muggles," Hermione told the redhead, refusing to allow the girl to learn the hard way – the way she had learned.
"Why?" Lily asked, frowning in confusion.
"Because they're morons," Hermione replied honestly, "Some wizarding families believe they are better than others due to being of long and uninterrupted lines of only those possessing magical blood. They call themselves purebloods; they're families like the Malfoys, the Blacks, the LeStranges, Goyles, Crabbes and Bulstrodes. There are more, of course, that are still considered purebloods due to their heritage. Those of pure blood who sympathise with or participate in relationships with muggleborns, muggles and half-bloods are called Blood Traitors... Now, there is something else you should know. Those families that I mentioned are prone to calling muggleborns by a foul name. Mudblood. If someone calls you a mudblood it means that they think you have dirty blood and aren't fit to be in their presence."
"That's horrible!" Lily exclaimed, looking alarmed.
"Most people are decent and would never call you that, but some will. You should be prepared for it, and know what it means so you don't make a fool of yourself," Hermione told her, shrugging.
"How do you know so much?" Snape wanted to know, watching her with that same suspicious expression he kept wearing.
"My parents are magical," Hermione shrugged, the lie coming easily enough to her tongue, "They told me all about it. I thought it might be prudent to warn Lily, given that her heritage might be cause for some discomfort to her in the future."
"Are you suggesting she should be ashamed that her parents are muggles?" Snape demanded.
"Of course not, just that she should be aware that there are some people we'll undoubtedly meet at school who will expect that and who will go out of their way to make her feel bad. People are mean," Hermione replied evenly, "And since both of you seem nice, I didn't want my new friend to be caught unawares about such things."
"Thank you for telling me Hermione," Lily said sincerely, "It's good of you to make sure I'm forewarned."
Hermione smiled at her happily; she was sitting opposite both Lily and Severus, who were sitting side by side. Just as she opened her mouth to say more, the door to the compartment suddenly slid open to reveal none other than James Potter and a boy who could only be Sirius Black.
"Mind if we squeeze in?" James asked, shoving his way into the compartment before any of them could reply. Hermione glanced over at Lily and Severus, who were eyeing the boys – Severus with suspicion and dislike; Lily with curiosity.
"I'm James Potter," James said when he'd shoved his trunk into the overhead compartment with Sirius's help.
"Sirius Black," Sirius tossed in as he threw himself down on the seat next to Hermione. Both of them had cages with disgruntled looking owls in them. Sirius had a barn owl, while James had what appeared to be a spotted owl. Hermione thought about suggesting they let the birds out to fly behind the train, but waited for introductions to be over first
"I'm Hermione Lyall-Granger," Hermione told them, shaking the hands they both offered her, unable to keep from smiling at the pair of them. James was entirely too much like Harry for Hermione's comfort and she knew she would have to work hard not to call him Harry by accident.
"This is Lily Evans," Hermione pointed to Lily, who smiled brightly before shaking hands with both of them, "And Severus Snape."
Hermione caught the way Severus was eyeing James coldly for the way he rumpled his hair before shaking Lily's hand and she could tell he was already disliking the boy. Rolling her eyes to herself, she realised that she really was going to have her work cut out for her in an attempt to keep them all from fighting too badly over the next few years.
"Nice to meetcha," Sirius smirked at them and Hermione found herself eyeing him speculatively. Even as an eleven year old Sirius was handsome. He simply bled aristocracy and charisma, from the way he lounged so comfortably while seeming so regal, to the casual way he flicked his long, raven-black hair. Unlike Snape's it was perfectly trimmed and Hermione could tell that he obviously spent a great deal of time and money caring for his hair. The locks were long and sleek, gleaming with health though it was styled into casual disarray. It struck Hermione that where Snape's hair and James's hair were messy by nature due to lack of care - or constant ruffling, as the case may be - Sirius's was messy in a way that probably took him an hour to perfect each morning. It made her laugh just a little bit to think of Sirius Black spending an hour doing his hair every morning.
"So what house do you want to be in at Hogwarts?" James asked casually, grinning as he rumpled his hair again, darting a glance at Lily and then Hermione.
"Slytherin," Snape answered immediately.
"Eugh, why?" Sirius asked, curling his lip back from his teeth and looking disgusted.
"Aren't you a Black?" Hermione frowned at him, "Don't your entire family go through Syltherin?"
"Not me," he shook his head, "I'm not following in the footsteps of those blood supremacist maniacs."
"Slytherin is caught up in blood mania?" Lily asked, sinking a little in her seat and darting a glance at Hermione uncertainly before looking at Snape as though fearful.
"Salazar Slytherin, one of the Hogwarts founders, was a blood supremacist," Hermione confirmed, "Many people within Slytherin house are from pureblood families, but being in Slytherin doesn't mean one has to be a bad person or a blood supremacist. The house is known for accepting students who are ambitious, driven and cunning."
"It's a snake pit filled with vipers more likely to turn on you for a political alliance or money than a place to make real friends," James told them, looking disgusted by the very idea of anyone defending Slytherin.
"And thus inter-house rivalry is born," Hermione muttered.
"You're heading for Slytherin too then?" Sirius asked, slanting a glance in her direction, his grey eyes assessing her face with interest.
"I believe all of the houses have merit," Hermione replied primly, "I also believe that the idea of a mind-reading Hat telling us who we should be and the type of company we belong in when we're eleven years old is a mistake. Yes, we need to belong to a house in order to be awarded points for good deeds, and punished for bad ones, and yes, we need somewhere to call home whilst living in the castle. But why should that mean that having a penchant for any particular house is a good or bad thing?"
"You sound like a Ravenclaw," James told her.
"I could be a Ravenclaw," Hermione nodded, "I have an insatiable curiosity and a thirst for knowledge that would fit me very well in that house. Or I could be Hufflepuff. I'm not afraid of hard work, nor of being loyal to those I call friend and those I vow to help. Or I could be a Gryffindor. I'm not afraid to stand up and fight for the things that I believe in. Similarly, I'm ambitious about the things I intend to achieve academically and when I've graduated, so I could fit into Slytherin as well. Why should being placed in one over any of the others make me any less valuable a person to those placed in different house? I wouldn't think less of Lily for being in Gryffindor if I were put in Slytherin. I would hope she wouldn't think less of me. The point is, why should it be such a big deal?"
"It determines who you share a dormitory with," James pointed out, "And who you spend many of your classes with. Forges the friendships you'll hold throughout your entire schooling."
"But that doesn't mean you can't be friends with people outside of that house. Look at us here now, we might very well belong in different houses, but that doesn't mean we can't already be friends and continue to be. Why should such a label define who we associate with?" Hermione pointed out, grinning a little at the affronted expressions that Snape, Sirius and James all wore over the idea of challenging inter-house rivalry before the year had even begun. Lily looked on board with what she was saying.
"But," James began, rumpling his hair again and looking perplexed, "Slytherin and Gryffindor hate each other."
"They don't have to," Hermione insisted, "They dislike each other because those in Slytherin tend to be somewhat enamoured with learning of the Dark Arts, where Gryffindors are morally opposed to such pursuits. Quidditch, of course, only exasperates matters but there's no reason people can't be friends just because they possess different personality traits and qualities. I'm not saying that we should all go out befriending murderers and psychopaths, but variety among a group of friends is important. Do you really want to go through life only associating with people who fit in the same little bubble as you and who don't make you challenge your beliefs and ideas with a differing perspective?"
"Trust me Lyall," Sirius cut in seriously, "I can tell you from personal experience that people who favour Slytherin house are twisted and messed up. I live with them. I was raised by them. And the further I can get away from them and their poison, the better."
"But that's because the Black family, for the most part, is notoriously blood purist and disdain those of lesser birth and blood status. Yet your very statements prove that not all of you are bad. If you can be different from them, from your own flesh and blood, why can't a mish-mash of strangers that belong to the same house still have some diamonds among the dirt?" Hermione challenged.
"You think too much," James accused in a whiny voice, holding his head as though talking to her had made it ache.
"That's probably true," Hermione conceded with a rueful smile, "I do tend to overanalyse things. My point is, why should the potential friendships that could form between all of us be dashed before it can begin just because Sev and I favour Slytherin while the two of you are leaning towards Gryffindor?"
"I like you," Lily announced, looking at Hermione.
"Thanks Lily," Hermione grinned, "I think you're pretty wonderful too."
"I like that you make me think. I honestly don't know what house I belong in... What are the traits each are most known for again?" Lily asked, frowning.
"You're muggleborn, aren't you Evans?" Sirius asked knowingly.
"You got a problem with that, Black?" Lily asked, lifting her chin defensively.
"Makes you all the more attractive, in my opinion," Sirius replied cheekily and Hermione saw Snape glare at Sirius for his comment while Lily blushed and giggled a bit.
"Each house is characterised as possessing more of one quality than the other," Hermione explained to the girl, getting back on topic, "Gryffindors are known for being brave, daring and chivalrous. Most are considered rather reckless and impulsive, but for the most part those of Gryffindor house are generally good, decent people. Hufflepuffs are known for their loyalty. Hufflepuffs tend to be the nicest people around; they're open and generous with their compliments, and while they might not show great feats of academic brilliance or shows of bravery or cunning, they are hard workers who toil until they get what they want. Ravenclaws are the smarties of the group. They're very academically driven and spend much of their time pursuing knowledge, though there are some among them who are incredibly creative as well. Slytherins are known for being rather ruthless and less scrupulous than the other houses, hence their bad reputation. Generally Slytherins are sly, cunning and ambitious. They'll do whatever it takes to get what they want."
"Oh," Lily said, "And we're sorted into one of the four?"
"Yes," Snape answered, "Tonight when we reach the castle we'll be sorted in front of the whole school."
"How do they determine where we belong?" Lily asked, looking worried now.
"They have a Sorting Hat," James smiled reassuringly, "You put the hat on and it tells you where you go."
"But how does a hat know where to put me?" Lily asked, frowning in confusion.
"It's a magical hat," Hermione told her honestly, "It's sentient. It looks into your mind using Legilimency and determines which traits are strongest in you. Then it places you."
"What's Legilimency?" James asked, blinking at her in confusion.
"Legilimency is the act of magically navigating through the many layers of a person's mind and correctly interpreting one's findings," Hermione rattled off the definition.
"Mind reading," Snape said and Hermione caught the intrigue glowing in his dark eyes. She wondered if it was intrigue with the dark art itself, or with her for knowing about it.
"Not exactly," Hermione corrected, "Mind reading implies that one's thoughts can simply be perused with the ease of picking up a book and taking in the information within the pages. Legilimency is more like climbing into someone else's head and finding yourself in another world. Generally, as people, we think and speak in sentences, but the mind is so much more than that. There are memories, feelings, bodily functions, thoughts and imaginings all rattling around in there, gumming up the place. In your own mind, for example, there are things you might think but not say. Things you might imagine doing, without actually putting the idea into action. All of those things make up the layers of the mind. Legilimency is the art of perusing those layer and working out what is thought, what is memory, what is action, what is clutter. On our own, in our own heads, we manage ok. Climbing into someone else's would be like finding yourself floundering in a turbulent ocean and not knowing how to reach the surface."
James and Sirius shared a look and Hermione knew they were judging her for being such a know it all. Lily looked utterly fascinated and Snape was regarding her coolly. She could tell he didn't like being corrected but she could also tell he was interested in her definition and it the magical art. She wasn't surprised.
"You know everything, don't you Lyall?" Sirius smirked at her.
"Not yet," Hermione grinned at him in return, "But I'm working on it."
James snorted at her truthful answer, clearly amused.
"Nerd," he accused good-naturedly.
"There's more to the wizarding world than Quidditch, you know?" she smirked in return, feeling very much like Draco Malfoy with the expression on her face but not minding. It would come in good practice.
"I'll bet you know all about Quidditch too then?" Sirius asked her.
"No," Hermione shook her head, "I understand the rules, and I know some of the names for the fancy manoeuvres and tactics, but I'm no expert. I don't much enjoy flying, you see, so while I appreciate the sport, I've never had much interest in playing or in following the league."
"You don't like to fly?" James asked, looking devastated.
"I can fly," Hermione assured him, "But I don't like heights very much. So it's a little too much anxiety to be hurtling about the place on an enchanted cleaning tool, hundreds of feet above the ground."
"Are you a half-blood?" James asked her, "I've heard the name Lyall before, but not Lyall-Granger."
"Yes, I am," Hermione lied. She needed to keep her muggleborn heritage hidden if she wanted to last five minutes in Slytherin with Snape.
"What about you Snape?" Sirius asked, "You interested in Quidditch?"
Snape nodded his head, "I don't know much about the league either, but I want to play."
"We should get him into the Bats," James grinned.
"Nah, don't be a tosspot Potter, no one except you like the Bats. Where are you from Snape?" Sirius asked, and Hermione caught the way his eyes travelled over Snape's attire and appearance. It was clear to anyone with eyes that he must be from a poor family, hence the second-hand robes and the bad haircut.
"Spinner's End," Snape admitted, confirming to Hermione that the place the Snape who'd been her Professor had never bothered to move out of his family home.
"Nearest team to there is probably the Cannons," James mused, twirling his wand in one hand absently before ruffling his hair with the other.
"Cannons are a good team. Last time they won the league was in 1892, but that's neither here nor there, they just need fresh blood," Sirius told him, "So there you have it, Snape. You're a Chudley Cannons fan from here on out. James loves the Ballycastle Bats. I'm a Falmouth Falcons fans myself. And every bloke worth his salt is a Harpies fan."
"Why?" Lily wanted to know, frowning a bit over the idea of them all favouring different teams yet all liking one.
"The Holyhead Harpies are the only all girl's Quidditch team in the league," James explained to her, ruffling his hair again. Hermione had to admit, she suddenly understood why Snape had claimed it was an infuriating habit. It was both distracting, and somehow endearing to see him looking constantly windswept like he'd just leapt off a broom. Hermione recalled the way Harry had always tried to get his own crazy hair to lie flat and wondered how different her friend might have been if he'd been raised by James rather than his horrible aunt and uncle.
"How sexist," Lily wrinkled her nose.
"Oh contraire, Evans, those chicks are the hottest women on brooms and they're a formidable team. They were the only ones who would take on the Arrows last year after half the Arrows team was suspended for excessively rough play. I'm talking people died during matches with the Arrows. No one else would play them and it looked like the Arrows would have to follow the path of the Bangers and disband, but then the Harpies took them on and beat them too," James told her.
"It's still sexist to favour them because they're all female," Lily insisted.
"They're good though," Hermione pointed out, "And arguing that men the world over shouldn't fancy them for being all female is a waste of time. In the magical world the Harpies might as well be lingerie models for the way they're ogled."
Lily glanced at her before looking like she still objected but chose to hold her tongue, sensing, as Hermione had, that it was pointless to argue with boys about the Harpies team.
"I can't wait to try out for the school teams" James admitted, ruffling his hair again.
"They don't accept first years, James," Hermione informed him, "Except in dire circumstances when no one else can be found."
"What? That's bang out of order," Sirius grumbled, looking annoyed by that fact.
"The teachers consider it too dangerous, and I'm inclined to agree with them. Quidditch is a dangerous game with far less rules than most muggle sports. The risk to such young and inexperienced students would be entirely too high."
"You're such a nerd, Lyall," Sirius informed her, rolling his eyes at her argument against allowing first years to play. Hermione shrugged her shoulders, not really concerned by his assessment. She recalled all too acutely how badly injured Harry had been during Quidditch and knew that the longer students were kept from playing, the more they had a chance to learn the rules and grow without taking a bludger to the head.
As the boys continued chatting about Quidditch, Hermione let her mind wander for a bit, sighing as she stroked Cleo's fur softly and feeling good about this first meeting. After so long spent worrying about it, it was a relief to finally have it out of the way. Though, as she sat there, Hermione found herself wondering where Remus was.