A/N: This is me again, Viera Grace. I looked back on last chapter and realized there was barely any Hermione in it. Since this is a Hermione/Harry fic, this one is going to be mostly her perspective.

Disclaimer: I'm sorry, do the words Viera Grace and J.K. Rowling look similar to you? Not to me they don't. I wear glasses, so correct me if I'm wrong( I kind of hope you don't). On my side of the pond, I am not She Who Casts Spells With Her Wand (named Pen, actually).

Hermione Granger POV

A prefect named Mikayla Robinson took us up to our dormitories. I had simply stuffed myself with sweets, I don't know what came over me. Oh, the things Mum would say had she seen me stuff my face with sweets. But really, must they tempt us with such delicious licorice and fizzy drinks. I will never get to bed, and I am oddly okay with it. Harry and I had discussed everything from magical creatures to private habits. The Hall was so loud, no one overheard me confess the time I had filled my knickers with mustard. He was so kind about everything! Where was he my whole life when older girls had ganged up on me, or cheaters threw eraser bits when I hid my test from prying eyes? Honestly, the first sincere friend I had ever met and he turns out to be Harry Potter.

When I asked about his guardians (since I knew of his orphan situation quite well) he started to stiffen. DANGER ZONE was written across his forehead, and he darted his eyes from me. I knew to steer clear of that topic, but I just had to find out eventually. Perhaps tomorrow when we have more private time.

" Here you go, little children" smiled Mikayla, revealing rusty braces that would make my parents cringe. First of all, the over-excitement was a bit much, even for the first day. Second of all, we are not little children. I could see some other Ravenclaws agreed with me as they scowled.

" Here is the common room, where you can study, play games, or just relax" the fifth year welcomed, gesturing to a massive living room. It was similar to the one back home, if home had a dozen bookshelves, towering to the chandelier ceiling. White carpeted floors lay beneath our feet. I tip-toed, careful not to dirty the immaculately clean flooring. Mikayla chuckled at my attempt at cleanliness. " They're charmed so nothing may dirty them, courtesy of our Head and Charms teacher, Professor Flitwick" she chuckled, brushing away some curly brown hair. I sighed in relief and eyed the room carefully. 5 gorgeous blue sofas lay sprawled across the room, impatient for a tired student to lay upon them. " It's magnifacent. Nothing like the Gryff- I mean, I bet the Gryffindors don't have a common room this gorgeous" whispered Harry, into her ear, making me jump at his honey-silk voice. My eyebrows raised at his obvious mistake, but I said nothing.

Perenelli Flamel POV

No. He wouldn't do this to me. Nicholas and I were his friends. Dumbledore wouldn't steal anything from us. Yet he had stolen our life. He had stolen The Stone, and that was unacceptable. We all understood we had cheated Death, but to steal it, to take it with no warning, no preperations, was cruelty.

Argus Filch POV (3rd person)

' You're a loser, Filch. You're just as good as them Mudbloods, ruining our world with their filthy ways. What's the matter with you? I gave birth to 5 children, and all the others turned out perfect" bellowed Argus's mother, throwing a wineglass at his head. Argus ducked it expertly, used to his mother's tantrums. Tears ran down his face. Everytime it was the same thing, yet as fresh as the cuts on his wrists. What had he done wrong?Why had he been born a Squib? His trip to Ollivander's had been a miserable fail. The wandmaker had shuffled uncomfortably as he realized the situation, and pulled his mother aside. " Have you considered the boy might be a….a…". That was the first time Argus had seen his mother truly upset. She screeched at the top of her lungs the most vulgar, crude language she had been taught in her life, and being 63, and a foul-mouthed Slytherin, that was saying a lot. Argus had been taught to bow his head, and be the Squib he was.

Argus felt a wet tickle by his left eye, but ignored it and went back to mopping. Never again would he be shunned. The problem was keeping the secret.

A/N: I realized that I had put that it would be mostly Hermione, but Perenelli was vital to the story (hint, hint) and Filch was just so nice writing. No one ever wonders what Argus's life was like, or how Dumbledore got the Stone, so I decided to add that. Not much Harry here, but he isn't that much fun to write anyway. This was one of my longer chapters, so please review.