Chapter 10
Train stations were not on Hermione's list of favorite places.
The air at King's Cross was thick and heavy with the smells of the city, exhaust, and too many people in a small space. So. Many. People. The smells of the coffee they drank, the cigarettes they smoked, and the sweat they couldn't avoid on the unseasonably hot day made Hermione's head spin.
She wasted a brief moment wishing she was just about anywhere else before squaring her shoulders and forcing her way through the crowd, trunk and caged Sirius in tow.
Neville and his grandmother were waiting for them near the entrance to platform nine and three-quarters. Hermione would occasionally stretch up on her tiptoes to try and make out Neville's brown mop and round face or perhaps his grandmother's wizened features and silver curls. When she caught a glimpse of the uncomfortable-looking duo, she waved at them. Finally spotting her and her parents, they made their way toward the Grangers.
"Hello, Mrs Longbottom," Richard greeted the elderly woman, extending a hand to shake.
She took it daintily, ever the proper matriarch, regardless of her age. "It's good to see you again, Dr and Dr Granger. Hermione."
The little witch nodded her own greeting, smiling at Neville shyly. It felt good to have a friend, and she hoped they could keep up the blossoming friendship that had been established with the exchange of letters over the course of the summer.
The Grangers gave Hermione one last hug and a few kisses for the journey ahead. Richard stealthily slipped a bag of coins into Hermione's pocket. "In case you need anything," he whispered as he pretended to kiss her cheek one last time.
She squeezed him extra tight in return. "Thanks, Dad." He sent her a wink before he took Helen's hand and disappeared into the crowd.
Hermione drew upon her courage and squared her shoulders, turning her trolley toward the platform barrier. She decided that she would go first, since Neville looked like his breakfast was going to attempt to make a reappearance if he had to traverse the barrier without first seeing someone else make the trip successfully.
Poor Neville, she thought as she hurried towards the brick wall in front of her. He's such a sweetheart. I wonder what could make him so unsure of himself.
But she wasn't able to worry about it for long, for she was suddenly enveloped in a haze of smoke, merging with the crowd of people standing on the platform that housed the Hogwarts Express. Students of all ages and sizes, including the other first years Hermione remembered meeting in Diagon Alley, said their last goodbyes to their parents and younger siblings before making their way onto the train.
Dozens of owls, cats, toads, and other pets squawked, mewled, croaked, and hooted, all making loud noises of protest as their owners did their best to keep them in one piece amid the chaos. Hermione glanced down at Sirius and was shocked to find him sleeping through the ruckus. She laughed softly to herself, moving out of the way so that Neville and his grandmother could make their way through the magical entrance.
A couple of older students, prefects, if Hermione was correct in interpreting the badges on their robes, offered to help them load their trunks and things into a compartment. Mrs Longbottom gracefully accepted, pausing only to brush an air kiss across Neville's cheek before shooing him onto the train.
It was a relief to Hermione's senses to finally have a window separating her from the cacophony outside, and she let herself relax into the cosy bench in the car she and Neville shared. He seemed almost as happy to be away from his grandmother as he was to have a friend for the long train ride to school.
They were quiet while they waited for the train to start moving, but the gentle swaying of the car soon helped them relax. Eventually, they were able to ease into their first real conversation without nearly as much stuttering and blushing as Neville had feared nor the rambling that Hermione was prone to when she was nervous.
Neville was just finishing the story of how how he'd nearly blown up Ollivander's wand shop over the course of trying out nearly a dozen wands when his pet toad, Trevor, made an enormous leap from Neville's lap. He made his way past the open car door and landed squarely in the middle of the hall before continuing his escape, croaking merrily as he jumped along the corridor and out of sight.
Neville groaned. "Not again. He did this just before we left. He is absolutely brilliant at hiding, which is the absolute worst since I'm pants at finding things."
Hermione grinned at him, remembering a tidbit about Hufflepuffs from Hogwarts: A History that mentioned that they were good at finding things that had been lost, and said, "Looks like you won't be sorted into Hufflepuff then!" She poked her head out into the hall. "He went this way. Let's split up and see if anyone's seen him."
Neville nodded miserably, trailing after her. She made sure he was actively looking, mumbling his inquiries to a group of seventh years, before she rapped her knuckles on the door of the next compartment, sliding it open far enough to talk to the occupants.
XxxX
Draco had just finished putting on his school robes and was slipping his tie around his neck when a knock sounded on the door of the compartment he shared with Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. He huffed in annoyance but paused in his efforts long enough to see what the interloper wanted.
It was her. Her eyebrows were raised, and her mouth was slightly open in surprise or shock.
He furrowed his brow but didn't have long to be confused or curious or whatever he was feeling before she regained her composure and began rattling off a question.
"Have any of you seen a toad? My friend had one escape."
Draco raised an imperious eyebrow and ignored her question, instead, returning one of his own.
"Who are you?" He didn't care if it was common decency to introduce himself first. She knew who he was from Ollivander's shop. Shouldn't she return the favor?
Hermione's shoulders straightened, and she stood a bit taller. She felt chagrined, as she always did when she forgot a social nicety and her mother had to remind her. She debated the best way to respond for a moment since she wasn't sure of the proper protocol in wizarding society, but she decided it would be best to just go with what she knew.
Sticking her hand out abruptly, she declared. "I'm Hermione Granger."
He didn't look like he was going to put down the two ends of his tie to shake her hand, so she frowned minutely before she shoved her hand deep into the pocket of her robes and asked, "You are…?"
Draco scoffed quietly. "Draco Malfoy. You don't look familiar," he said, silently amending, aside from the fact that we met in Diagon Alley a few weeks back and your eyes did something funny that has my brain doing somersaults. "What are you...a half-blood?"
Hermione tensed at the question, every hair on the back of her neck prickling at the thought of being found out. What's he getting at? Is that some quaint way of saying I'm half girl and half wolf? Hoping that she had misunderstood, she stood a little taller, enjoying the slight height advantage she had on the blond boy, and said, "I'm Muggleborn."
Draco couldn't help the subtle look of disappointment and disgust that crossed his features, but he almost wished he could have kept it in check when she announced, "The toad is clearly not here. I best keep looking," and stormed from the room.
Crabbe and Goyle were mumbling something about 'stupid Muggleborns' on their side of the compartment, but Draco stood still and scowled at the window he was using as a mirror until his tie was finally knotted to his liking.
Damn. She's a Muggleborn.
And her eyes didn't flash that time.
That's a good thing.
Isn't it?
XxxX
The search for Trevor continued, and Hermione met the famous Harry Potter and his git of a redheaded friend, Ron Weasley, officially. She thought Harry might make a decent friend if given half a chance, but Ron seemed far too interested in the horrendous amounts of sugar he was shoveling down his gullet to do much more than introduce himself and be annoyed at her presence.
She couldn't blame him, really. It wasn't everyday you met the Boy Who Lived and got him all to yourself on a train ride to school.
But they hadn't seen the toad either, so she wrapped up the conversation, which included critiquing the Weasley boy's complete lack of understanding about spells - Really, did he expect a pretty little poem about butter and daisies to turn his pet rat yellow? she wondered - and fixing Potter's glasses. They looked like they had been taped at the bridge more than once, and she felt suddenly grateful that her incessant need to read and study had culminated in her knowledge of an obscure spell for fixing glasses. A quick "Oculus Reparo" and a quick goodbye later found Hermione back in the hall. She was about to make her way to the next compartment when she spotted Neville coming out of one a few doors down, tightly gripping his toad around its waist and scolding it under his breath. "Really, Trevor, couldn't you have at least waited until we got to school to run away? Batty toad."
She smiled fondly at him.
It was nice to have a friend.
XxxX
The boat ride across the Black Lake made Hermione feel sick. Actually, it might have been the nerves. Or a combination of both. Either way, her palms were slick with sweat and her knees felt weak by the time Professor McGonagall came to retrieve them and bring them into the Great Hall for the Sorting Ceremony.
She arrived just in time to defuse a dispute between the Malfoy boy and Harry Potter, which Hermione was grateful for. The last thing she needed was two boys posturing and getting into a fight right in front of her before she could even start her first official day at school.
Sweeping off towards the double doors that opened into the Great Hall, Professor McGonagall bid them to follow her. Hermione obediently marched off with the other first years but almost tripped when she passed the doorway and saw the room beyond.
The tables were already full of the older students in their respective house colours, cheerily chatting away as they greeted each other for the first time in months, exchanging guesses on where the new students would end up. There were four long tables running the length of the hall, each fully stocked with dishes, goblets, and silverware that had been polished until they shone. But what caused Hermione to pause was the ceiling. It glowed with the stars and moon of the world outside the castle, wisps of white clouds floating in front of the waning moon. It had been full only a week before and was still big enough to brighten the ceiling along with the hundreds of candles that danced and bobbed about as if they were tethered on strings to swing from the ceiling.
It was official. Hermione loved magic.
She and the other new students came to a halt at the front of the hall. Professor McGonagall stood before them on a raised platform that housed a table for the professors and a stool with an old pointed hat that seemed to be more patches than original fabric. Hermione stared at it quizzically but knew it must be the renowned Sorting Hat.
As soon as the name crossed her mind, the hat burst into song.
I've seen into the very thoughts
Of firsties through the years.
But I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat!
You have no need to fear.
"You may not think I'm pretty, now,
Nor big, nor tall, nor strong;
But I can solemnly avow,
I've never sorted wrong!
The brave and true, the lion's sort,
Their daring makes them sure.
Their chivalry, I can report,
Puts them in Gryffindor.
The smart ones, with their books and brains,
Are pulled by wisdom's draw.
Academics run in their veins;
They go to Ravenclaw.
The third group toils and is so just,
Made of patience and loyal stuff.
You need not be afraid to trust
Our friends in Hufflepuff.
The cunning and the slippery friends
Will find a way to win.
Ambitious to the very end,
The folks of Slytherin.
Now, I've no eyes, but I can see
Potential in this lot.
So put me on, now, if you please,
And show me what you've got!"
The Deputy Headmistress called the names alphabetically, meaning Hermione didn't have to wait long. The time between McGonagall's curt call of "Abbott, Hannah!" and "Granger, Hermione!" seemed to fly by like a wisp on the wind.
Her hands shook as she pushed her way to the front of the little troop of first years and stepped up to the stool to be sorted, her knees giving out at the last moment, causing her to plop down onto the wooden seat a little harder than she'd intended. McGonagall settled the hat atop her mass of brown curls and stepped back.
"Well, well," the hat began. "It's been many years since I've had the pleasure of sorting one of you." Hermione's brow screwed up in confusion, but the hat continued before she could speak. "Not unlike the last one, either. Your kind is all the same."
Her heart raced. How did it know her secret? She suddenly realized her thoughts were not quite as private as she had thought when the hat chuckled. "It's all here, in your head.* The obsession with books and chocolate, your condition, the penchant for taking in strays and mothering everyone." Her cheeks heated as she realised how many of her past friendships could be seen that way; she felt a mix of embarrassment and righteous indignation. It wasn't her fault so many of her classmates needed help studying or that she cared enough to try to help others succeed. "It makes a soul very brave, you know, facing what you do every month. Though you do have smarts enough and then some…so where to put you?"
Hermione peeked out from beneath the hat's wide brim, suddenly aware of how long this was taking. The other decisions all seemed to go fairly quickly. Her mind raced. "Just put me where I can do the most good and be done with it!"
The hat crowed in delight. "There's a bit of fire in there after all, isn't there? At least enough to land you in...GRYFFINDOR!"
The table with students in red and gold ties roared in approval, clapping and cheering as she slumped off the stool in relief. She wasn't sure how much time had actually passed, but her time under the floppy brim of the hat seemed to stretch on for hours.
She surreptitiously wiped her hands on her thighs as she sat down, hoping they weren't too sweaty as she gratefully shook the hands that were offered from various members of her new house as they welcomed her.
It took a few minutes for her rapidly thudding heart to calm down again, but she found she enjoyed watching the sorting quite a bit once she knew where she belonged. Neville was quickly put into Gryffindor, much to her excitement and Neville's obvious relief. She made sure he got a seat next to her and squeezed his hand quickly before turning back to the sorting. Her nemesis with the slicked-back blond hair was sorted into Slytherin with his trollish mates. Potter and Weasley from the train came to sit a few seats down from her at the Gryffindor table.
And soon enough everyone had been sorted, the Headmaster gave a short speech - warning of the dangers of the Forbidden Forest and a corridor on the third floor that was off-limits - and the feast began.
Her stomach rumbled involuntarily at the sight of so much food. It all smelled amazing. The moon had been a few days earlier, and her appetite was back in full force. Taking her cue from the older students, she piled her plate high with meats, pies, and even a few vegetables when her conscience took on her Mother's voice, reminding her how important a balanced diet was… 'even for werewolves.' Hermione smiled to herself, missing her mum already, and returned to happily chatting with Neville and the other Gryffindors. She grinned when dessert appeared. Everything within her reach appeared to include some element of chocolate, and she dug in with relish, thinking she would have to thank the cooks as soon as she got the chance.
A/N *I borrowed this line from the first Harry Potter movie! It just seemed to fit here. :)
Bit beta thanks to Mahawna and Synoir. Those ladies keep me excited about this story and point out plot holes and other things I would have missed otherwise, so send them some love!
ALSO! As a bit of a housekeeping thing, I have a question for you all. If I could hypothetically set up a weekly update schedule (I'm ahead of the story for once!), what day of the week would you like to see updates? Pretty please leave a review to let me know what you thought of the chapter and when you want to see more of it. :) Thanks! Love you all! My muse wouldn't be nearly as happy with this story as it is if you weren't all so fantastic at leaving favorites, follows, and reviews for me to get all starry-eyed over. It keeps me going, so thank you!
Until next week!
-M