DIAGON ALLEY, LONDON, ENGLAND; 30TH JULY 1977

Helen had encouraged Hermione to get dressed for the day so they could head into London and shop. Hermione had initially been reluctant, seeing as shopping when one didn't have money sounded dreadfully dull, but Helen had insisted.

What's the point of having a daughter if I'm not allowed to spoil her?

At that point, Hermione dipped in defeat her head while Hector chuckled next to his wife, though his eyes never left the paper he was reading.

Now Hermione could see why Hector had found shopping with Helen as amusing as he did once the trio emerged into Diagon Alley. Hector kissed his wife and adopted daughter on their cheeks before going to a little cafe with outdoor seating. The iron table and chairs were shaded from the sun by using large umbrellas, and a lush garden spilled over the fence and off the establishment's roof, making it very welcoming and appealing.

"Isn't there anything that he wants to look at?" Hermione asked, but Helen shook her head

and gestured towards the man Hector had just seated himself across.

"That's Razin Lestrange. They will sit there and discuss politics, the weather, Quidditch, and the usual men's things. I suspect Razin's wife is in the district with their youngest son; I believe he'll enter his sixth or seventh year. Their eldest son had been out of Hogwarts for some time. We'll most likely see them while we get your books. Come along; no need to stand around and watch your father talk of meaningless things."

After that, Hermione found herself in a world filled with the brightest colors, young children racing away from their mothers while laughing, and magical creatures almost everywhere. The sights and sounds were new, but Hermione couldn't shake the lingering sensation that it was so familiar.

Her mother took her into a fine robes shop and fitted Hermione for her school robes. While there, her mother stopped to talk to Lady Malfoy, who was also shopping with her daughter going into her sixth year. With her wide pale blue eyes and bright white hair, the girl seemed to have minimal awareness for personal space, coming into the fitting room Hermione was occupying.

"I've never seen you around before," the daughter said. Hermione hadn't even heard her approach, as if she floated instead of walking. "I'm Pandora Malfoy."

"Hermione Greengrass." The reply wasn't much, nor did it invite further conversation, but it didn't deter the girl.

"I didn't realize the Greengrass family had a daughter. How interesting. It's reasonable that they'd want to keep you from society until you were nearly ready to be presented, as it does become tiresome with all the families wanting to make a match."

Hermione had no idea what this girl was talking about, having never heard of such barbaric things outside the handful of historical romance novels she could recall reading. Amusement lit up the other girl's face at Hermione's apparent distaste for what she'd just said, prompting her to continue her explanation.

"The Lestrange family has been after my hand since my birth was announced. Though Papa isn't against the union, he seems more inclined to support his friend Lord Nott's bid since his second wife tragically passed away last year."

"Your father wants you to marry his friend?" Hermione asked, her nose scrunching in disgust at the idea.

"Oh yes, a union between the Malfoy and Nott families would be most agreeable in my father's eyes. Also, Lord Nott has yet to sire an heir, so he will have to marry again and not stay a widow."

"That sounds awful," Hermione commented, but Pandor only hummed before looking towards the door where her mother awaited her. Without saying anything else, the girl floated to her mother, and the pair were out the door, their robes flowing behind them. Hermione was left nearly speechless, unsure how she felt about Pandora Malfoy. But again, Hermione had the strange feeling of familiarity, though it wasn't quite right.

"Pandora will be in your year," Helen supplied, approaching Hermione and adjusting the collar. "She's in Ravenclaw like her mother had been. Hm, what do you think of the robes?"

"I'd like them more if there were pockets," Hermione confessed, touching her sides.

"Pockets? What an interesting idea; I don't see why they couldn't be added." Helen waved over the seamstress to give the instructions, which, by the look on the other witch's face, was not a usual request.

With the robes ordered and the alterations to include pockets added in the notes, Hermione and Helen stepped out into the bright street. Hermione turned and began walking north with Helen trailing behind her.

"I still need to get my textbooks," Hermione explained. Shock flashed over Helen's face, but she didn't say anything, and the pair continued onward.

The large brick building overflowing with students, parents, and books came into view, and Hermione couldn't contain herself as she hurried her steps. Flourish and Blotts, the sign over the door read, and Hermione skipped inside with Helen chuckling behind her.

With her list of all the required texts in hand, Hermione was once again puzzled by how her feet knew exactly where to go. Quickly, she found herself in the potions section, though she had no recognition of ever having been here before. It was the strangest feeling; how she knew where to go as though this was a place she knew and had spent hours here before.

Even selecting her books for her classes was oddly familiar for her. The list in her hand wasn't all she found herself selecting off the shelves. In addition to the textbooks, Hermione quickly found hidden reference books that would be useful throughout the year. How she knew that 800 Different Magical Herbs and Fungi was excellent extra reading for her herbology class was utterly beyond her. However, Hermione felt the title wasn't exactly right, but it was the newest copy of the text, so she conceded that perhaps she was remembering incorrectly; she'd swore it was 1000 and not 800.

Turning with her arms overflowing, Hermione didn't even notice the boy who had come up behind her while she'd been lost in the shelves. She crashed into him, all her selections spilling onto the floor and toppling over multiple stacks of books that were the extra stock.

Looking at the mess, Hermione could feel her heart drop. It had taken her hours to sort through the stacks and find everything she wanted to purchase. Or if not, purchase at least read through before she left the shop.

Dropping to her knees, Hermione could feel tears brimming. It was going to take ages…

"Are you alright, Miss..?" A male voice asked above her.

Hermione looked up, startled by his sudden appearance, though she supposed it wasn't all that sudden since she had run into the boy. She'd just forgotten about him.

"Yes, sorry," Hermione said, standing up and brushing the tears away from her eyes. "I didn't hurt you, did I?"

The boy chuckled, shaking his head slightly, his longer black wavy hair falling into his face. When he looked up at her, Hermione felt her breath catch as she stepped back. His eyes were the most beautiful gray she'd ever seen, but that wasn't what caused her shock.

Hermione was once again faced with someone oddly familiar, but simultaneously, it was all wrong. His face, she noted, was too round, and his nose was too straight. His much too severe expression, with not enough joy or laugh lines. He wasn't exactly who she knew, but he was related to…the person's name was lost to her as she studied him.

"Who are you?" She asked, tilting her head, still trying to place him.

This must not have been what he thought she would say because his thick brows raised at her direct question. Hermione could feel her cheeks flush, fearing for a moment that she'd offended him, but he answered before she could amend her statement.

"Regulus Black, it's a pleasure to meet you."

Notes:

And our boy has come onto the scene!