The last time Hermione was at a train station, it was to take a Muggle train to visit her parents, which Ron declared to be "the weirdest thing ever." And the last time she had been on Platform 9 3/4 must have been at the end of her Sixth year in school. That seemed so long ago, and yet as she walked straight through the seemingly solid divide between platforms 9 and 10, nothing had changed. The platform was packed with wizards. Most were dressed in Muggle clothes, since they had to go through the mundane parts of the station to get to the platform, but many of them obviously weren't sure how to pull off the look. Plaids clashed with stripes, and one woman was wearing her skirt backwards. Worse, a baroque style was currently fashionable with wizards. Apparently several people had never been told that although Muggles had worn breeches and waistcoats at one time, they weren't terribly common now.

A loud whistle rang out, and the bright red steam engine of the Hogwarts Express pulled into the station, as shiny and inviting as it had looked in Hermione's childhood. The steps in front of each carriage lowered themselves as the doors slid open, and parents pressed forward as their children poured off the train, some hefting duffles over their shoulders while others struggled with the trunks they had taken at the beginning of the year.

Hermione looked at the photograph that Anissa had sent a few days before. She had posed with several of her friends, all wearing Hufflepuff colors, and the kids jostled and teased each other. At the top were the handwritten words "That's me", and an arrow that followed a blond girl in the picture. Hermione pushed her hair back. I hope I look enough like the picture I sent. Maybe I should have worn the same clothes.

She tried to keep an eye on the children getting off the train, but there were too many students coming out of too many doors. Maybe she should have brought a sign. She considered fire-writing Anissa's name in the air above her, but thought better of it. At that age, she would have been mortified if her parents had sent a stranger to pick her up instead of coming themselves, even if circumstances had forced it. Instead, Hermione looked around the platform. The children who had gone straight to their parents could be ruled out, so she looked for the ones who looked lost or bewildered. She thought she saw Anissa and moved through the crowd, but the girl went to a couple who hugged her warmly and headed off the platform, and Hermione realized it had just been a resemblance.

Eventually the crowd thinned, but Hermione still hadn't found the girl. She took the risk and shouted "Anissa!" a few times, but no one responded. Again she looked at the photograph and then searched the thinning crowd. Had something gone wrong? What if Anissa had missed the train? Was the poor girl stuck in Hogsmeade all alone with no idea how to get home?

By now, nearly all the students had found their parents and left. The last few stragglers filtered out, leaving Hermione and one couple standing patiently beside an empty luggage cart. Hermione's throat tightened. Maybe… maybe she had just fallen asleep. Hermione didn't see how Anissa could sleep through all the commotion of the train unloading, but surely the engineer would find her during his sweep through the train if she had.

"Waiting for a little brother or sister?" the woman of the couple asked.

"The daughter of a friend, actually. I'm supposed to pick her up, but I didn't see her get off the train." What if Hermione had missed her? What if Anissa had wandered into the Muggle section looking for her? "I know this is a long shot, but did you see this girl get off?" she asked, showing them the photograph.

"Oh, that's Anissa," the woman said. "I bet she's still on the train with our son."

"I wondered how her family was going to handle things," her husband said. "I'm surprised they didn't ask her to stay over the break."

"Oh, no child should have to stay at school over Christmas." The woman turned back to Hermione and smiled. "That's the same thing I told Headmistress McGonagall when she asked if Vinnie could just stay over. Honestly. As though all this trouble couldn't have been avoided by simply ending the term a day sooner. I'm sure the students wouldn't have complained."

"Here they come," her husband said. He pushed the luggage cart toward the train as Anissa appeared in the doorway of the very last carriage and hopped onto the platform.

She turned around and gestured as though directing someone behind her. "It's two steps down, Professor. And there's a gap between the train and the platform, so be careful."

"I think I've got it," boomed a familiar voice, and Hermione smiled as the doorway was filled with the huge, hairy shape of a man simply too big to be allowed. He was carrying a large box covered with an old blanket.

"Hagrid!"

"Hermione! It's been a dog's age since I've seen yeh. What're yeh doin' here?"

"I was just about to ask you the same thing!"

"I'm jus' helpin' young Vinnie Trimble here get home." Mr. Trimble moved the luggage cart into place, and Hagrid sat the box on top of it, then pulled back the cover.

Hermione took a step back before she could stop herself. The blanket had covered a cage, the interior well-padded with quilts to make it comfortable, and inside lay a brown wolf—a werewolf.

"It's OK," Anissa said. "He's had his potion. It always makes him feel tired and sick." She stuck her hand through the bars of the cage — leave it to Hagrid to use one so widely spaced as to be useless if the potion failed — and placed her hand on Vinnie's furred shoulder where it peeked out of another blanket laid over him. Vinnie opened his disturbingly human blue eyes and looked up at her without moving his head. "We're in London, Vinnie."

The blanket behind him wiggled back and forth as Vinnie wagged his tail. He planted his paws and pushed himself to his feet, shaking the blanket off. Hermione gasped. His right foreleg was a mass of burn scars, covering the skin up to the shoulder and then spilling across his neck, even up the right side of his face and snout. He stumbled into the side of the cage, wincing as the metal contacted the scars.

"It's all right, honey," Mrs. Trimble said. "You just lie down, and we'll take you back to the car like this and get everything sorted there."

Vinnie plunked back down in the cage as Hagrid pulled his trunk from the train and sat it on the luggage cart beside him. Mrs. Trimble pulled the top blanket over the cage again, and Mr. Trimble reached for the cart handle.

"'Ere, lemme get that for yeh," Hagrid said, taking the handle with one of his huge hands. "It was good seein' yeh, Hermione."

"You too, Hagrid. We should get together sometime."

"I'll see you in a few days, Vinnie," Anissa called, waving after as Hagrid pushed him through the barrier, his parents following behind. Once they were out of sight, she dropped her hand and adjusted the strap of the duffle slung across her body. "He's used to people staring at the scars, but it's still really rude, you know."

Hermione blushed. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to. I just wasn't expecting them." She put her hand out. "I'm Hermione."

"Anissa Rowle." Anissa shook her hand. "Thank you for picking me up, Miss Granger."

"Please, call me Hermione. Do you need any help with your bags?"

"I've got it. I only have the one."

"All right. I hope you don't mind, but I think the closest Floo connection is at the Leaky Cauldron, so I thought we'd take a bus there."

Anissa's face fell. "Not the Knight Bus."

"No," Hermione assured her. "Actually, I was planning on taking a Muggle bus. Have you ever ridden on one before?"

"Oh, sure. We usually take the Underground in London, though. It's faster, and besides, the drivers in this city are kinda crazy."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "How many times have you done this?"

Anissa shrugged. "I dunno. Roma doesn't like me going into London alone, but I've come with Greg or Sammie on errands lots of times. I don't think I have any Muggle money with me, though."

"That's OK; I was going to pay." Hermione tapped her chin thoughtfully. "You really think the Underground would be faster?"

"From here, definitely." Anissa flipped her watch around on her wrist so she could see it. "We can catch the 6:30, no problem."

"All right, let's try it."

Hermione intended to show Anissa out, but Anissa took the lead. In fact, she knew a shorter route to the adjacent King's Cross St. Pancras tube station than Hermione did. Although Muggle crowds often gave wizards pause, Anissa moved through them easily, pulling Hermione along. They made the trip to the Leaky Cauldron without trouble, and a few minutes later, arrived at the house.

"Here we are," Hermione said. "Home sweet home."

"It's nice," Anissa said, looking around the sitting room.

"Thanks. I'm still working on the renovations. I'm afraid the guest room still looks like it belongs to a little kid."

"Where are we, anyway?" Anissa asked, going to the window.

"Delamere Forest," Hermione said. "It's a beautiful view, isn't it?"

Anissa's fingers tightened on the windowsill. Hermione walked over to see what she was looking at. Some previous resident had made a tire swing on one of the trees. Of course, being wizards, they didn't have access to tires, so it was made with a carriage wheel and a cushioning charm. "I really should take that swing down. I don't know if it's even safe anymore."

"Did this house used to be two flats?" Anissa asked, her voice hardly more than a whisper.

"Yeah. How did you guess?"

Anissa whipped around and ran out of the room. She was already clambering down the stairs as Hermione realized it and ran after her. The girl dashed out the front door. She was going to get outside the Repelling Charm and into the Muggle areas if she kept going. Hermione cast a Quickening Charm on herself, and used the burst of speed to catch up and catch her arm, pulling her to a stop.

"Anissa, what's wrong?"

Tears poured down her cheeks. Anissa tried to get her breath, but hiccupped twice before she could answer. With a wave of her arm towards the building, she sobbed, "My parents were killed in that house."