Disclaimer: Not mine

A/N Ginny's letter didn't really fit in so...

Hermione pushed her way through the crowd in the Leaky Cauldron and headed straight towards an empty seat. As she sat down at the table, she looked around at the people going about their business, oblivious to what else could be going on in the world. There was a woman hustling around with a basket of vegetables in her hand. Old Tom was busy serving a couple of wizards sitting at the other end of the pub. A bunch of lively children had just entered, laughing and chatting. The wizarding wireless was playing some romantic song by Celestina Warbeck, her beautiful voice magnified by a modified sonorous charm. How normal.

It was as though there was nothing wrong with the society. It was as though there wasn't a corrupt Ministry leading them and as though the whole of wizarding Britain was not entirely backward when compared to other magical places like the United States or even India and Australia. Those countries had seen the advantages of Muggle technology and culture and now their magical populations were flourishing. They had laws that actually helped Muggleborns and took in people with skill rather than 'pure blood'. In fact, the magical families around the world were so intermarried with Muggles and halfbloods and muggleborns that there were barely any 'purebloods' left. From what she had read and experienced, Britain was the only place where there was such a huge prejudice. While there was prejudice everywhere, there was nothing as bad as the open discrimination in the UK.

Her wand was in her sleeve and within her reach in case anything happened. She didn't expect it to, and she hoped nothing would happen, but her years at Hogwarts and being around trouble magnets like Harry had taught her to be alert at all times. She was wearing a simple purple blouse with a floaty pink skirt and a purple cloak to blend in with the wizarding folk. Why they had to wear robes and cloaks when there were jackets and jeans, she didn't know. It was so irritating, and girls couldn't even show off their figures!

Her thoughts were interrupted when a thin fourteen-year-old boy in jeans and a leather jacket came into view. His hair was streaked with a coppery shade of red and his green eyes were barely visible beneath the long and messy fringe that fell over his forehead. She stood up to hug him.

"Hey Hermione!"

"Harry! How have you been? Oh, you look so different!"

Harry laughed, looking slightly embarrassed and ran his hand through his hair rather nervously. "Yeah, well I suppose so. No one recognised me on the Knight Bus, and people barely looked at me when I walked in. It was a bit of a shock finding out I could change my appearance at will just like that. I'm still getting used to it".

"You came on the Knight Bus? What about the Dursleys?"

"Threatened them at wand point. Aunt Petunia damn near threw a frying pan at me when she saw my hair. I haven't actually let them see me until now, so they got quite a shock".

Hermione frowned at his relatives' behaviour, but didn't mention them again. She quickly changed the subject by asking about his new clothes. The jeans he was wearing fitted him well and did not hang off of him as his old clothes had. He rolled his eyes as he dusted off the sleeve of his jacket. They were getting some strange looks because he wasn't wearing a robe but they both ignored them with the ease of long practice.

"I actually came to London yesterday for clothes. I didn't know there were so many different kinds of jeans!" She laughed at his bewildered look. "Seriously though, you'd think they'd try harder to fit in with Muggles. I didn't realise how uncomfortable wizard robes are until I bought these". He gestured to his new clothes. "They aren't all that different from my old clothes aside from the fact that they fit better around the waist and shoulders".

"Yeah, they're so baggy! Urgh! And quills! I should have stopped using them long ago! I took half as much time as I normally do to finish my homework using normal pens and pencils!"

That started off a long discussion on how much easier life could be if they combined Muggle and Magical inventions and how boring it must be to not have television or how bad it must be to have to drink a foul Pepper-Up potion instead of a good old cappuccino in order to wake up.

"...that would take the good right out of my mornings," Harry was saying just as Adonis swept up to their table, casting discreet charms all the way and whispering their familiar pass code.

He was not wearing the black unspeakable uniform he had been wearing when they first met. Hermione and Harry took in his features curiously. Glamour or not, the name Adonis suits him, thought Hermione. She knew Parvati and Lavender would drool over him if they ever caught sight of this man.

Adonis was pretty tall, at least six feet, with a lean, dancer-like figure. He had black hair styled in a quiff, and warm, dark eyes set in a square, light brown face. At a guess, she'd say he was about twenty-nine, with an Indian or Pakistani background. He gave them a brief grin, making him look years younger. But all too soon, the serious look was back. He slid gratefully into the seat offered, and Hermione noticed that he was favouring his right leg. As he took out a sheet of parchment from his denim jacket, she saw the violet edges of what she assumed was a tattoo on his wrist peeking out of his long sleeve.

Adonis gave them both a piercing look, before steepling his fingers in a very Dumbledore-like fashion and saying that he would talk about their training later. "For now," he said with a strangely exotic accent, "This poem needs to be interpreted. As this sounds oddly like a Hogwarts Sorting Song, we thought you might know something..."

Hermione took the book, absently noting the use of 'we' as a pronoun in some tiny corner of her mind. The rest of her brain however was focused on the poem, or song, on the page in front of her. She felt, rather, than saw, Harry looking over her shoulder to read. They both jerked up and glanced at each other in slight shock.

"Adonis, this is the song that was sung at the beginning of term..."

Sirius cautiously entered his old family house. It had been years since he'd set foot here. Even then, the colours had been depressing. Now, it was impossible to distinguish green from black.

It had taken many days to work the nerve up to visit this place. He was going to procrastinate again today, but something, a sort of nagging feeling that something was terribly wrong, dragged him out of his comfortable bed in his flat at Diagon Alley before ten and brought him here. Harry was coming to meet Adonis today, he remembered. Adonis was a good-looking young chap, with a wicked sense of humour that Sirius liked. The two of them had had quite a few discussions about... well everything. They got along like a house on fire.

As he cautiously made his way through the house, which was admittedly better kept than he'd expected, a sudden sound caught his attention. His training kicked in and overcame the original impulse to call out, and he made his way to the room it came from. The door was shut and the nameplate was badly damaged, but he recognised it easily enough. How could he forget?

"Regulus..."

Ooh, cliffie! I LOVE those. They make the next chapter so much better. Part Two will be up in a couple of days, and the poll for the DA name ends on the 31st of January 2015, midnight, GMT +5:30, Indian Standard Time, so vote now!