A/N: This one is based on a Wacky AU Prompt: Cinderella. I'm not very good at 'wacky' so this is basically set in the canon universe with one slight alteration. At 3k words, this turned into its own proper little story.

Harry wasn't quite sure how he had ended up in this room surrounded by serious adults talking into their wrists and several posh children, all looking slightly terrified. He was silently grateful for their terror because he imagined they would be making fun of his oversized and tatty clothes without the distraction.

One minute he was having a thoroughly pleasant conversation with a Burmese python and the next the python had made his escape, and Harry found himself being forcefully herded by the serious adults into this room. He thought it would be prudent to tell him he wasn't a part of the group, but they looked so serious. Best to wait it out for a few more minutes…sitting to the side and being as quiet as possible had always been the best strategy.

It was then that he noticed the one girl who didn't seem terrified. She had a group of serious adults around her and merely looked curious. The worst part was she was looking directly at him. Nothing good came of people finding him curious.

He fought the urge to flee when the girl pulled on the sleeve of one of the serious people and began walking toward him after receiving a nod of approval to do so.

"You weren't invited to my party," she stated quite matter of factly.

"Uhh, no," he muttered. "I sort of got pushed along when the python got loose."

"Hmm…" she commented in consideration. It was the most intimidating 'hmm' he could recall and that was saying something, given who he lived with.

"What were you doing before that happened?" she continued.

"Doing?" he asked dumbly.

"I saw you looking at the python before that other boy pushed you out of the way. It looked like you were speaking to it, and it looked like it was answering."

Normally he would lie at this point. Lying about the freaky things that happened around him was almost always the best option. But this girl wasn't like the others. She didn't appear to be angry or terrified…merely interested. Also, serious. Very serious.

"Kind of," he managed with a shrug of his shoulders.

"What does that mean? Kind of," she plowed forward, mimicking his shrug.

"I didn't know I could do that," he answered honestly as he shrugged once again. "Weird things happen to me sometimes."

"And did you make the glass disappear?" she continued on seriously.

"Maybe?" he answered. He felt very stupid.

"How?" she demanded.

He was saved from answering from by one of the serious people approaching. "Are you Harry Potter?"

The girls eyes bulged at the name and he had no idea why. This hiding in the shadows thing was going much differently than normal. "Yes?" he answered.

"Come with me," the serious man informed before muttering something into his wrist.

"But-"

'I'm sorry, Your Highness," the adult informed. "Mr. Potter's relatives are waiting for him."

The man's gaze turned his way. "Our apologies. You were swept up when we were clearing the room when the snake got loose," he informed as he led him toward the door.

Before he could ask why the girl was referred to as your highness he was shuffled into a nearby room where his relatives were waiting. They seemed to be a mixture of excited and furious, which was an improvement on the standard furious when odd things happened to him.

As he was shuffled away by his apologetic relatives his mind drifted back to her highness. As intimidating as she had been he wished he'd gotten a chance to talk to her a bit more.

Harry shut the bathroom door slightly harder than necessary in a feeble attempt to counter his Aunt's complaints. If she didn't want soot on the carpet then she shouldn't have made him clean the fireplace. It was always a disaster and he always got soot on the carpet.

Uncle Vernon had mentioned for years that they should block the dirty contraption up but had never followed through on it, Harry suspected they enjoyed having one more thing for him to do and then complain about after. He looked in the mirror and saw that the pesky soot had set up residence on virtually every part of his face. He quickly set about cleaning himself, doing his best not to leave the sink dirty.

He was busy basking in the success of not marking up the bath towels when he heard an unholy shriek from downstairs. He was used to his aunt shrieking but this time it was different, because the shrieking wasn't directed toward him, and she seemed to be happy.

Dudley probably tied his own shoes or something he mused as he did his best to quietly make his way to Dudley's second bedroom. There was an old radio that Dudley had broken the antenna off of and quickly discarded, but Harry had found if he positioned it just right-

"Boy!" Uncle Vernon called, foiling his plans. His uncle also sounded slightly different. He still sounded angry, it had to do with him and that always annoyed Uncle Vernon, but he sounded excited as well. Giddy even. Harry's stomach sank, realizing it was his misery that normally led to his Uncle being giddy. He quickly made his way downstairs, wanting to get the misery over and done with as quickly as possible.

His aunt and uncle were beside themselves with joy, happier than he had ever seen them. "We've just been invited to a Royal Reception at Buckingham Palace!" his Aunt beamed. He was so used to her scowling it was odd to see so many teeth. He preferred the scowling.

He was confused about what this had to do with him before recalling the event from the prior weekend; their visit to the zoo and his meeting with her royal highness. He was at once excited and terrified at getting to see the intense girl once more.

"When are we going?" he blurted without thinking. He should have known better.

"You will be going to Mrs. Figg's, young man," Vernon said with a grin. "This is a real opportunity for this family and I won't have you mucking it up."

He caught sight of Dudley behind his uncle, the smuggest grin plastered on his face. Probably thinking about all the food they have at royal receptions, he thought to himself.

"We will be leaving at midday this Saturday and you will be going to Mrs. Figg's for the afternoon. Do you understand?" his Aunt asked. She was still smiling.

"Yes, Aunt Petunia," he answered before escaping back up the stairs. They were so busy basking in the invitation that he'd gotten for them that they didn't notice or care that he had escaped back into the forbidden second bedroom.

So it was that he ended up on the second floor of Mrs. Figg's house three days later, ecstatic that this location provided slightly better reception than he'd been able to manage at #4. She'd even given him a bit of tin foil that he'd used to make a makeshift antenna.

He was so excited about his success that he almost missed the battalion of black cars that were slowly making their way down Privet Drive. His first thought was how upset his aunt would be at such an ostentatious display happening on the street that had nothing to do with her. His second thought was that they seemed to be slowing down as they approached #4. His third thought was that the serious adult that emerged from one of the cars looked very familiar. He was the man who talked to him and the girl.

The girl!

He bustled down the steps as quickly as he could manage and muttered "I'll be right back," to Mrs. Figg. Harry doubted what he said had registered as she was too busy gawping at the visitors to Little Whinging through her front window.

Before he could make it across he was descended on by several adults, all looking very serious. He wasn't sure what he had done wrong or what they thought he was about to do wrong but they weren't taking any chances.

"It's all right," the familiar serious man informed as he came closer. "He's the one."

The man crouched down to be at his eye level. "Her highness was very disappointed that you could not make the reception and was hoping she could talk to you."

"I'm not supposed to talk to strangers," he blurted automatically, instantly feeling like an idiot. As if he could stop all these very large, very serious adults from taking him away.

Thankfully the man didn't act like it was stupid. "Smart," he commented with a smile, "but how about a visit to that park down the road? Princess Hermione was quite looking forward to seeing you again."

Hermione was definitely a posh name. He'd heard worse though…Dudley for example.

"I'll have to tell my minder, Mrs. Figg," he replied as he pointed toward her house, causing his minder to instantly disappear from sight behind the curtains she'd been peeking through.

"I will let Mrs. Figg know," he informed before mumbling something into his wrist once again.

Seconds later the door to the car opened once again and Hermione emerged. She looked slightly more annoyed than the last time.

As the girl strode determinedly toward him Harry remained rooted to his spot. The serious adult ambush he'd received from simply walking towards the car was a clear enough message that he should remain still and wait for her to approach. But weren't you supposed to present yourself to royalty or something? Before he could decide whether or not to bow she was upon him.

"You didn't come to the reception," she stated.

"I wasn't invited," he answered with a shrug. Was it appropriate to shrug when talking to a princess? Probably not. He made a mental note to stop shrugging.

"I invited you myself," she grit out. "Who do you think was behind that invitation?"

"By my relatives," he clarified, forcing himself not to shrug. "They said they didn't want me mu- They didn't want me to go."

Her face screwed up in a look of disgust, as if she'd tasted something that had gone bad. "I met your relatives. That boy, the one who punched you at the zoo, he's your stepbrother?"

"Cousin, actually. I live with my aunt and uncle. My parents are dead." He'd been strictly forbidden by his aunt to talk about his parents, but she wasn't around…and he got the distinct impression that this girl would see right through any lie he tried to tell.

Her face immediately softened, all traces of her prior annoyance well and truly gone. "I know. I'm sorry," she answered, bowing her head in embarrassment.

"It's okay," he consoled, "I was just a baby. Umm…I think your friend said we should go to the park?" he supplied as he pointed toward the end of the street.

"Friend?" she asked.

"The big bloke," he supplied, turning his gaze to Mrs. Figg's house, where the man was informing his worried minder of the plan.

"Kingsley?" she answered with a chuckle. "He's not a friend…well he is sort of my friend…never mind. Let's walk," she commanded before taking off down the street, her cadre of serious adults immediately trailing behind.

Thankfully the small park was empty. They took up residence in a pair of nearby swings as the adults formed a perimeter. It was all very odd.

"I wanted to talk with you about the things you did at the zoo," she began.

"I didn't mean to!" he protested. "Things just happen around me," he answered, internally cursing as he had unconsciously shrugged yet again.

"It's okay," she leaned in, speaking in a whisper, "I know. You won't be breaking the statute by talking to me about it."

"Know what? And what statue?" he asked, excited to finally get some answers to his freakishness.

The girl became annoyed once again. "Not statue, Statute, although they do have statues of- we're getting off-topic. You really don't know do you?"

He fought the urge to shrug yet again, opting instead to simply shake his head 'no.'

"You are magical, and not only are you magical, but you are famous in the magical world. You, or maybe your mother, defeated a dark lord the night your parents died."

He wanted to laugh, to call her a liar and say that it was a funny joke. But it made too much sense…and this girl had made too much of an effort to see him again just to make such a dumb attempt at humor.

"I'm magical too," she whispered, "Kingsley is as well. He's the only one I've been allowed to speak to about it, and I haven't been allowed a wand yet thanks to their stupid rules."

Now he was truly confused. Didn't princesses have access to anything and everything they wanted? And who were they?

"I don't think you were the one who vanished that glass," she continued on in a quieter tone. "That boy made me so mad when he punched you out of the way. It was mean and I was fascinated by you talking to the snake and…I think my magic did that," she confessed.

"I didn't know," he mumbled dumbly as he processed her words. "I didn't know about any of it."

"I can tell you what I know if you'd like," she offered shyly. "About you and your family...and about wizards and witches. I don't know much though. Just what I've read in books…"

Harry gulped. "Okay."

Sixty minutes later Harry was reeling. He wasn't sure what she was on about because it was apparent that Hermione knew a lot about a lot of things. She had shared so much and had spoken so fast and it was all unreal and he couldn't wait to get his Hogwarts letter. And a wand! He realized that she was looking at him expectantly, waiting on him to say something.

"Wow," was the best he could manage. It must have been okay because she grinned.

"Would you like to come for a visit? A proper visit, not a stodgy reception. Tomorrow? At my house? I have loads of books you can borrow and I even bought a snake. I tried talking to him but it didn't work and-"

"I won't be allowed," he interrupted sadly. "My relatives won't let me go and I don't have anything I could wear at a palace-"

The girl's sudden, angry scowl ceased his explanation. "Wait here," she commanded, bolting out of her swing and over to the serious bloke…Kingsley. After receiving an affirming nod from Kingsley she made her way back to the swings.

"It's all sorted. We can send a car to pick you up. And I don't live at the palace…where I live is more of a castle…but that's beside the point. Is midday acceptable?" She, once again, had said all of this very quickly.

"Yeah, but I have to check with my-"

"I'm a princess, Harry," she said with a smirk, "I get what I want."

Harry suddenly became embarrassed. "Okay, thanks. Should I be calling you 'Your Highness' or something?"

She laughed. "You're my friend, so Hermione is fine. You have a title to you know."

"What?"

"They call you the 'Boy Who Lived' in the wizarding world," she informed. "You'll be loads more famous at Hogwarts than me according to Kingsley."

That sounded awful. "I don't want to be famous, or be called that."

"It's not that bad," she consoled, "and I can help. I'm used to it Mr. Boy Who Lived."

Based on her smile he knew that she was now definitely joking. "You can call me Harry. Just Harry."

He was so wrapped up in their conversation that he hadn't noticed Kingsley's approach. "You've been summoned back to the reception, Your Highness," he informed.

Hermione frowned but nodded in acknowledgment. "So, I'll see you tomorrow?" she asked hopefully.

He nodded, drawing a bright smile from the girl. "I'll even show you a bit of magic," Kingsley muttered quietly as he put a hand over his wrist.

"Cool," he managed. That didn't seem like something appropriate to say around a princess but he didn't care. She was just Hermione. His friend Hermione.

And suddenly the girl attacked him with a hug. "I'm so glad I met you!" she enthused before she released her hold and began walking away with her bemused escort. It all happened very fast.

He watched as she seemed to have a rather serious discussion with Kingsley. She must have gotten her way because despite shaking his head 'no' multiple times the man eventually gave a resigned nod, resulting in a hug from the girl. Hermione really seemed to like hugging people.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Harry!" she enthused before disappearing into the awaiting car.

Before he could think to stand Kingsley began walking back toward him. He remembered his prior strategy and remained perfectly still.

"Don't tell anyone about this," the man murmured before a stick poked out of his sleeve and Harry heard him whisper something about an 'Octopus'. He felt his glasses tighten slightly and his vision became much clearer.

"Woah, was that m-"

"Tomorrow," Kingsley interrupted as he quickly placed a hand over his wrist again.

Right. There was a Statute…or something.

"We'll talk about it tomorrow. And I can tell you a bit about your parents then as well," he offered. "You should probably pack a few changes of clothes. If Her Highness gets her way I suspect you will be staying with us for a bit."

"My relatives won't-"

"Pack the bag just in case. Her Highness usually gets her way, Harry."

He looked back toward the car and saw that she was watching them. She gave him another very unprincess-like wave. He waved back and, perhaps for the first time in his life, found himself looking forward to tomorrow.