Before she knew it, it was time for Hermione to join Regulus and return to Hogwarts. While she'd certainly grown more comfortable living at Grimmauld Place with the Black family, there was no denying that Hogwarts had become her home over the last five years, so she was looking forward to it with a certain sort of anticipation.

But, as they made their way to the platform, with Orion carrying both of their trunks in his pockets, Hermione was reminded that she didn't know anyone in this time. Would Hogwarts even feel like home? Or would it just be a painful reminder of what she'd lost — Harry and Ron most notably. How was she going to be able to share meal times and possibly classes with James Potter and Lily Evans and not be stuck with a sense of melancholy for her friend who had not yet been born?

At the very least, being back to Hogwarts meant that she was going to have a bit more personal freedom. Orion certainly kept her on a short leash when she was home and had thus far been completely unwilling to even discuss the possibility of her returning to her normal time. However, Hermione was not going to give up so easily. She had planned to approach Headmaster Dumbledore as soon as she was able, positive that he would have some ideas of how to get her back to her proper time.

And, even though Regulus had kept to himself what she'd shared with him about his own death, she was not yet sure if she could trust him to keep secret her intended plans, so she was not going to open up to him about them. Yet.

Regulus took his new role as her brother seriously and helped her get on the train, taking the responsibility of her trunk from her, despite her protests that she was perfectly capable on her own. He pulled her into an empty compartment and offered her the seat next to the window.

"I can't wait to see everyone again," Regulus said, grinning at her. "No one is going to believe that I've got a new sister."

He had tried to give her a rundown on everyone worth knowing in Slytherin house, but she hadn't paid the best attention. Mostly, she was just still being a bit stubborn about being sorted into Slytherin. She didn't want to make friends amongst the snakes, knowing the frosty reception she would have received in her previous school life when she was under the impression that she was a muggleborn.

But, once a good looking wizard with light brown hair opened the door and slipped into the compartment, greeting Regulus with a broad grin, she wished that she would have paid better attention to who everyone was. After a couple brief words, the wizard slipped into the seat across from them.

"Hermione, this is my friend Rab, I told you about," Regulus said, amused at the skittish way she was acting. "Rab this is my sister, Hermione."

The wizard's eyes rose in surprise at the word sister, even though Regulus said it in a rather tongue-in-cheek sort of way. But, he waved it off and offered her his hand. "Nice to meet you, Miss Black," he said, oozing charm that had probably been drilled into him during etiquette lessons. "I'm Rabastan Lestrange."

Hermione felt her blood run cold when she heard the name. Godric, now she really wished she would have paid attention when Regulus was blathering on, so she would have been prepared to meet him. And, should she really have been so surprised that Regulus was friends with such a notorious future Death Eater considering he was just bursting to join himself?

Regulus cleared his throat and she realized that she had not taken Rabastan's hand. Biting her lower lip, Hermione did not really want to shake hands with a man who would one day torture Neville's parents past the brink into insanity. But, it would raise too many questions if she did not. Taking a shaky breath, she pressed her hand in his, surprised at how warm it was.

Of course it was warm, she thought to herself, snidely. It wasn't as if he was actually a cold blooded snake.

"It's actually Miss Granger," she corrected with a tight smile. "And charmed, I'm sure, to meet you, too Rabastan."

He looked at her queerly and Hermione was reminded of how odd this little song and dance about her surname really was. Even though the Black family was taking care of her, they did not usurp the use of her surname, but she wasn't entirely sure why. Maybe it was because there was still some shame in the fact that she'd been born of squibs.

Turning to look directly at Regulus, Rabastan boldly said what was on his mind. "Is she... a bastard? Did your father step out of the family?" he wondered, even though it was highly offensive.

If Regulus was offended, he did not make it known. Instead, he laughed. "It is a bit complicated," he agreed. "But, no, she's not a bastard. She's actually a cousin, but father and mother took her in and they've decided to treat her as their own."

"She's actually sitting right here and can hear you," Hermione said snidely. She always hated the way that the Blacks and now even Rabastan Lestrange could talk about her — and quite rudely to boot — right in front of her like she didn't have a working set of ears.

"Not meaning any offense, of course," Rabstan said, suddenly realizing that she was hurt. "Just... you have to admit that this situation is a little bit unusual."

"Just because it's unusual doesn't mean that it is polite or you should just ask about it when we are meeting for the first time," Hermione answered, jutting her chin in the air.

Rabastan scoffed at her argumentative tone, before taking a deep breath. "You are right," he said, giving her a little nod, looking suitably chastised. "I'm sorry if I've caused you any offense. Or you, Reg, through my speculations."

Determined not to like him, Hermione hardly could let his apology stand. But, Regulus gave her hand a little squeeze and she knew the unspoken message he was trying to get across — play nice. She didn't want to be nice to Rabastan, but she knew he was Regulus's friend. He probably talked about 'Rab' the most, other than Severus (which was a whole different story), just... she wished she would have put two and two together and realized that Rab was really Rabastan Lestrange!

"Apology accepted," Hermione said with a tight smile on her face.

Rabstan relaxed into his seat, pleased that this was at least partly blown over. "I feel like we've gotten off on the wrong foot," he said, regretfully.

"I'd say," Hermione snarked back, unable to help herself. She didn't really mind if they'd gotten off on the wrong foot. He was a future Death Eater and she didn't really want to be friends with him, no matter how close he was to Regulus.

"Hermione," Regulus groaned.

"It's alright," Rabastan assured his friend, before offering Hermione a shy smile. "It's evidently clear that you are a member of the Black family. You've certainly inherited all of the trademark good looks that your family shares."

Hermione felt her cheeks heat, unused to such forward compliments. Harry and Ron seemed to barely register that she was a girl and Viktor's kind words had been clumsy and awkward thanks to their language barrier. "Thank you," she said, quietly, wondering why Rabastan wouldn't just let her ignore him.

"In fact, you remind me a lot of Bellatrix," he continued, looking at her with a discerning eye.

"Bellatrix is engaged to Rabastan's older brother, Rodolphus," Regulus offered as explanation.

"Do not compare me to her," Hermione said, without thinking. She couldn't stand to think that anyone thought she even reminded them of Bellatrix. She was nothing like Bellatrix was, who liked to do nothing but hurt others.

"Why not?" Rabastan asked with a laugh, clearly not hearing the spite in her voice. "She's very beautiful as well."

She could feel her blush deepen, realizing that it was the second time that Rabastan had said she was beautiful. But, she also couldn't exactly articulate why she didn't want to be compared to Bellatrix. "Because..." she said, before trailing off when her brain could not manage to think up any particular reason.

"Oh, are you just one of those witches who needs to be flattered at all times?" he asked, with a roll of his light green eyes. "To hear endlessly that no one can compare to your beauty?"

Luckily, Regulus was there to step in for her, saving her from the indignity of coming up with a lie in response. "Don't be like that, Rabastan," he chided his friend playfully. "Hermione is just the sort of witch who would rather be recognized for her accomplishments rather than her good looks."

Rabastan gave her a look like he was not completely convinced. After all, what sort of witch didn't like to be complimented on their looks. "I'll bite, what are you so accomplished at, then?" he asked, staring her down and daring her to impress him.

"She got ten bloody OWLs," Regulus said, proudly. "Nine of them Outstanding."

Hermione flushed once again, but was glad to know that Regulus was pleased with her. She had worried somewhat that her academic successes might make him jealous of her, but she needn't have worried. Regulus knew what he was capable of himself and he did not seem to think that her achievements discounted his at all.

Rabastan laughed — a pleasant, rich sound. "She's a bloody swot, then," he accused. "Just like you Regulus. I suppose you must be family after all. Salazar knows you Blacks barely have to look at an assignment and you get an O."

"Don't act like you aren't one yourself," Regulus countered, good naturedly. "Rabastan here is something of an Arithmancy prodigy. Maybe the two of you could revise together. Hermione is continuing with it as well."

Hermione did not want to revise with Rabastan, though she couldn't exactly tell Regulus that. "Maybe," she settled on, giving the other boy a tight smile. She felt as if the feeling was returned.

Mostly, she didn't want to know anything about Rabastan Lestrange or what he was or wasn't a prodigy in. If anything, it only made her more disappointed in him, that he could apparently be so smart — so gifted — at a subject like arithmancy and he still fell under the spell of Voldemort and joined him. That this wizard seated across from her had thrown his promising life away to use Unforgivable Curses on poor aurors who were just trying to keep everyone safe.

Darkly, she was reminded that Regulus and Rabastan were the same age. 1981 was only a few years off, which meant that Rabastan would have only been twenty or twenty one when he participated in such a terrible act. That was painfully young, but still old enough that he should have known better than to do something so horrible.

Hermione's mood grew darker the longer that she thought about it. She sulked and stared out of the window, watching the scenery pass by while Regulus and Rabastan fell into discussion about Quidditch. How could she have forgotten that Regulus was a Seeker? Well, if what she was hearing was true, Rabastan played Chaser himself. Boring — but all the better to keep her out of the conversation, seeing as she wanted no part of it anyway.

Every now and again, she found her eyes drifting back to Rabastan. She wished she could remember how he looked in the Department of Mysteries, with his wand held to Luna's neck, but all she could see now was a handsome, young wizard. In the sunlight, it was more obvious that his hair was not entirely brown — she could see the slightest hint of auburn in the right light. With his striking cheekbones, he was probably the dream of many a witch in Slytherin house.

Well, she was not going to be one of those witches pining after him, Hermione decided with a sniff. No amount of beautiful exterior could hide the evil that lurked inside of him.

The train came to a rapid halt and Hermione blinked, realizing that she'd spent the entire train ride doing her best to ignore Rabastan Lestrange and his stupid face and now she had no time to mentally prepare to walk into Hogwarts again, which should feel like home, though she was now certain it would not. Everything was too different and she was certain that she would feel more out of place than she had before.