No Matter what, you will always be Ours

by BlackSwan130702

When she gets her letter to attend Hogwarts a year earlier than most Hermione feels hopeful for her future, excited to gain knowledge and skill and most importantly take her chance at true happiness. But is she all she appears to be on the surface, an orphaned muggle-born book-worm? And is her life nothing but a smoke screen for a sinister plot that wrecked the lives of many?

4. Chapter 3 - What the Fck

Note: so I'm back with a new update, just in time for Christmas! I wanted to post this chapter now after spending the past 3 hours trying to finish it as a gift to you all for all your love and encouragement. I'm extremely busy over the festive break so I can't guarantee when my next update will be but please all of you take care and stay safe. I hope all those that celebrate have a wonderful time.

Merry Christmas you beautiful people.

My love, Nell xoxo

Edited 02/01/2025

~Sydenham, The Haven Home for Girls ~

~1st of September 1991 ~

~Hermione's POV~

Hermione Granger had always considered herself a patient girl. Of course she was, she had need of patients her entire life. If she hadn't been so patient she knows her already difficult upbringing would have been a hundred times worse than it was. However the young witch found that the wait between discovering she was a witch and September first had gone ever so slowly. She had felt each agonising day pass her by and it had felt like pulling teeth.

Today was the day however and she found her stomach tied in giddy knots at the mere thought of all she was about to experience. She had reached the point in the day that she had started to fret, desperate just to be away from the tedium that was her home. She had even checked and re-checked her possessions frequently in a desperate attempt to pass the time slightly quicker. She sighed quietly as she finished checking through her school trunk for what must have been the twelfth in the past forty minutes. All her supplies were packed neatly, organised with a precision one certainly wouldn't expect from a ten year old. But after years of having to be self-reliant Hermione could fold and organise anything with such tidiness one would guess an adult had been the one to pack it all.

At the very top of her trunk her books held pride of place so as to ensure they weren't squashed in any way. One of the things she despised most was seeing a book of any sort being damaged or mistreated. Knowledge was important and nothing provided more insight into the world around her than that of literature. She truly believed that books held the answers about the world and how history went down that many wouldn't dare speak aloud. Especially when you had the ability to explore more than one account and side of each chapter. As such she had always been one to devour any and all books. She didn't think there would ever come a time where books were not her greatest comfort.

In the past eight weeks, weeks that had felt like years if you asked her, she had devoured the books she had got on her first trip to Diagon Alley with Professor McGonagall. Hogwarts: a History along with various others, including "An all encompassed guide to honing the magical core, and mastering your Magic" had been read twice over. Her eyes and mind enraptured by the words on each page. Her mind conjuring vivid images of the world she had only just begun to explore.

Several months ago, she would never have dared hope that she would get to spend any of her time outside of the Haven, let alone be invited to a boarding school all the way in Scotland. Where they would be taught magic and potions and flying. It thrilled her and the books had been wondrous to her. Her mind consuming the words and their meaning like a greedy child at a chocolate stand. She supposed she was a greedy child in a lot of ways, only she could honestly take or leave the chocolate stand. When it came to books and knowledge however, Hermione was always starved. Ready to consume and digest anything she could.

Her need to gain as much of an understanding of her knew world had even led her to sneak out on several occasions over the summer. She had snuck back to Diagon Alley three separate times since her visit with Professor McGonagall. She had managed by some miracle to get in and out of the orphanage without being caught by Matron. Which had been a feat all on its own. To risk Matrons wrath however had been worth it and Hermione couldn't find it in her to feel bad about it. Especially upon learning that Matron hadn't even noticed that she wasn't around. Though with the time Hermione had spent stowed away in the attic over the past few years, she was unsure if she could truly be hurt by her absence going unnoticed.

On her second trip back to magical London she had even found her familiar. When Professor McGonagall had first told Hermione she may have to wait years to find hers she had been sorely disappointed. It was a relief that those worries had proved false for her. She had felt almost compelled to enter Eyelops Owl Emporium and Magical Menagerie as she had walked past on her way to the book shop that second visit. The brunette had been drawn to the back of the store, where a large ginger cat sat atop a stack of beds in the corner furthest from the door. Hermione had gotten the impression that no one ventured this far back very often. The cat was rather scruffy looking and if Hermione was a more conceited person she supposed she probably wouldn't have stopped to look at the creature. As it was he held an intelligence within his yellowish eyes that Hermione found endearing. The scar atop his right eye and ear, a long thin pink line that looked as if it had been slashed by a claw or a blade gave him character and the young witch though it made him look fierce.

Cat and girl spent several moments simply staring at one another and Hermione believed he was seizing her up, not nefariously but more out of curiosity. As if he wanted to understand just what the witch in front of him was. After what felt like hours but was in fact three minutes, the cat sniffed the air before jumping off his perch atop the beds. He trotted towards her, his larger than average head rubbing against the bare flesh of her leg. The way he slunk around her affectionately with a fierce purr echoing in his chest certainly contradicted his fierce exterior but Hermione in that moment had fallen in love with the cat. The shop owner had found her hours later, curled up asleep, the cat curled up on her chest and an open book resting on her lap. He had told her that the cat had been in the shop for so long that he was left to wonder on his own. Often venturing into the Alley to entertain himself as he was often aggressive or outright dismissive of anyone who attempted to get near him. The man however had whispered his thoughts on the cat being a wise judge of character and those he had taken a swipe at being rather unsavoury in his eyes. The brunette could see that being true, he was a clever sort and Hermione knew she would always trust her familiars judgement on others. A life lesson she had learned from potential adopter number one (A veterinary nurse) was that animal often knew more of a human beings intentions than anyone in a room. If your pet reacted badly towards someone, it was best to heed the warning for what it was.

The shop owner was awed by the way Hermione seemed to be so tenderly at ease with the usually aggressive cat. This convinced the man that the cat truly belonged to Hermione and no other. In his many years as Eyelops owner he had never witnessed the familiar bond form so securely so quickly and he took pity on the sadness in the student to be's eyes when she explained she would never be able to afford to pay for the cat or any of the needed supplies. He had offered both cat and supplies, free of charge to her with the view that he would not be a decent man if he were to willingly separate the pair now that they had appeared to have bonded.

It was a little known fact in the wizarding world that the bond between familiar and their witch or wizard was as unbreakable and as life-long as that of the soulmate bond and often a familiar would not survive long past the death of their witch or wizard. It was said to be a gift that Merlin himself had granted 6after seeing a familiar be separated from his wizard when the wizard had died. The cat had spent his remaining several years in sadness, waiting by the floo for his wizard. Marlin, upon seeing the misery being felt by the familiar had according to legend used a spell to grant the cat a wish, that wish being that no familiar had to live a life without their bonded witch or wizard. For the bond between each was rare and sacred to both familiar and human counterpart.

The shop keeper was also secretly glad just to be rid of the feline, he had been worried the cat would spend his days alone and that was something he hadn't wished to befall the cranky cat.

He had explained to Hermione that the cat was a half Kneazel mix, Kneazel's were a highly intelligent breed and were not found anywhere outside the magical world. They were naturally attracted to strong magical aura's and lived long lives, The oldest Kneazel had been recorded at 80 years old, her bonded witch had been 23 when they had met and the Kneazel had been barely 4 months old. Hermione had hugged the man tightly without thought when he handed her a bag of supplies that he had magically shrunk to make it easier for her to carry.

She had snuck her new feline friend back into The Haven with her. Wisely choosing to keep him in the attic while Matron was around and true to word, the feline seamed to understand just how important it was for him to remain undetected.

After some debate where Hermione could have sworn her cat was fully understanding her every word, she had decided to name him CrookShanks, a name she found befitting of both his crooked personality and his fierce appearance. Crookshanks had appeared to approve of his name as he got up. His chest puffed out he pranced in a circle and curled up beside the brunettes leg when she asked if he liked that name. He had refused every other suggestion. Simply looking at her before looking away each time she had suggested every other name she could think of. From Rupert to Biscuits to Mr Scratch.

Crookshanks was undoubtably the only name he had reacted positively too and so it was decided.

She had enjoyed her time in Diagon Alley with no chaperone, mainly spending her time browsing the many books in Flourish and Blotts. Though she was rather unsettled by the realisation that Madame Lestrange had seemingly predicted her inability to stay away from the book shop, the owner informing her that the pure-blooded woman had set up and all but demanded that Hermione was not to pay for a single book. All purchases were to be billed to her. The brunette had tried her best to argue with the man that she was uncomfortable with that arrangement and she hadn't been consulted. Hermione learned that day that with money came privilege and power and as she had the money and power to make the owner unwilling to go against the demand, Hermione, thanks to Lady Lestrange, did not feel completely comfortable with purchasing any books. Instead she took note of all the titles she was interested in, determined to find them elsewhere.

The book keeper, Mrs Kawalski, a quiet elderly woman that sat at the back table in the book shop most days and owned the shop had told Hermione of a shop in France that she could write to arrange for the books she desired to be owled to her. The man who turned out to be her assistant now that she was in her elder years had refused to let Hermione leave without taking at least one book and Hermione had settled on a kids book finally. She figured that buying a book for a galleon This knowledge had been such a gift to the brunette and she had not hesitated at all to use the Owl Post Office to send off a list alongside payment. Hermoine didn't have a lot of money, but she fully intended on spending the little she did have on as many books as she could possibly buy.

Now the day had come that she finally got to leave this place. She was nervous. More nervous than she ever remembered being for any other singular event in her life, not even meeting new potential adopters had filled her with this much nervous energy. Although moving away to a boarding school in a different country with no real way of contacting the place she had called home almost her entire life could be considered a rather big deal she supposed. Therefore rationally, she knew her nerves to be understandable. Irrationally, they were a hinderance and Hermoine very much cursed herself for the emotion. This place had never been warm or loving to her, she refused to get caught up in silly emotions now that it came time for her to leave for months. She was on to bigger and better things after all.

Finally shutting and securing the lid of her trunk. She made sure her hair was tied back tightly because she knew Matron wouldn't resist the chance to criticise her one last time if the opportunity arose and she picked up her backpack. Crooks settling himself inside her back pack when she prompted him to do so, out of sight of potential prying eyes. Hermione glanced at her shared dorm before dragging her trunk out the room she had stayed in for forever and down the stairs to wait by the door.

Matron was a punctual woman so she knew she would only have to wait exactly five minutes before they would head off towards King's Cross Station for the train. Five precious moments to savour her next steps and thoughts of the world she was about to step in to.

Platform 9 and 3/4 was really not as difficult to find as Hermione had expected it to be. She had expected some signage or some clue as to where she was going to be placed inside the train station somewhere. However all she really had to do was make her way to the platform that housed platforms 9 and 10. Where she quickly deduced that the weirdly placed stand alone brick wall that only ran for a small portion of the track mush have been something to do with where she was headed. For despite not being raised in the magical world, Hermione had discovered over the summer that she did in fact have a unique ability to sense magic. She had been able to do it all her life upon reflection, now that she knew what magic was anyway and the strangely placed wall definitely felt like it was made of magic. Her suspicions where confirmed not moments later when she overheard a large, plump red headed woman talk none too quietly about making sure they stuck together and didn't draw the attention of the muggles around them. The brunette had scoffed internally at hearing that, as if the woman and her motley crew of weirdly dressed red headed children hadn't already drawn a lot of attention from the muggles that bustled about Kings Cross. The fact that they were also pushing two trolleys filled with trunks and a brown owl caged on one of them, they really couldn't have stood out more. Hermione deemed it safe enough to assume she could simply follow behind them at a respectable distance so she could see exactly how things worked and how she was supposed to use the wall to reach her desired platform.

"Non magical people cannot get through to the platform ma'am so if it is alright with you I will follow that family through?" She asked politely, not daring to look the woman who had both cared for and been the source of her nightmares in the eyes less she anger her at the last moment. The young witch felt strangely sad to be leaving this woman but she refused to acknowledge the uncomfortable revolution even as it clawed at her throat eager to embarrass her.

"Of course girl, now do remember what you have been taught and do not dare forget I expect nothing but the most glowing report from your professor's come the summer. Just because I do not understand the material you shall be learning does not mean I do not still require nothing but the best from you, am I understood?" Matrons' tone was stern and detached even if she spoke quietly. Her small trunk like fingers reaching out to pick an invisible bit of fluff from Hermione's dress. Hermione nodded quietly, her heart racing slightly at the implications in Matron's words. She did not even want to entertain the idea that she would embarrass the elderly woman by failing at anything. She knew better, Matron had never demanded anything less than perfection from her wards and possessing magic or not the brunette did not want to earn her ire. Some how she had a suspicion that being of magic, Hermione was more than likely to be held at an even bigger impossible standard in the future and the best she could hope for was simply avoiding the woman's ire for as long as humanly possible.

"Of course, I will not disappoint you ma'am" she replied sincerely, bowing her head respectfully as her shoulder was patted in farewell and she was left standing on her own. The plump woman turning abruptly, not waiting for Hermione to move towards her destination before departing of. Nothing new there then, the brunette thought rather dryly, a bitterness that had been a constant of late simmering quietly within. She released a slow breath of relief at the familiar security she felt at being left alone, if she were on her own she couldn't mess up at all. She now had all year free from the awful woman and intended to enjoy it as best she could. It would be wonderful to not worry about sparking the woman's temper, at least while she was at school. She would worry about not angering her Matron again when she returned back to the Haven for summer.

Right now however, she was best to gather herself quickly before moving her trolley forward, catching up with the red heads rather quickly she managed to follow them through the wall between platforms 9 and 10 easily.

The brunette couldn't help marvelling at the large steam train that sat in wait for all the new and old students to board it. The train was a beautiful scarlet red colour and it was easily the longest train she had ever seen. Not that she had ever really paid much attention before. So she didn't really have much to compare it too. Regardless Hermione felt her palms begin to sweat as she gazed around her.

The platform was busier than she had seen any other platform. It was very long too. Almost stretching as far as her eyes could see. There was people everywhere she looked and she could feel herself begin to panic a little at the thought of trying to guide her trolley over to the luggage drop off in the middle of the platform. There was so much potential for things to go drastically wrong and the last thing she wanted was to hit someone with the trolley and earn their anger. Or get lost or turned around. She could feel the coolness of her anxiety creep up her spine as her brain ran a hundred miles ahead trying to figure out the best course of action to achieving her desired task.

"Miss Granger, how lovely it is to see you once more" a familiar lilting voice sounded from behind her, which stopped her mind in its tracks, her heart skipping in fright for a moment before she processed who had approached her. Hermione swivelled, coming face to face with none other than Lady Lestrange in a way that was beginning to feel like Deja vu. The woman was dressed up in an almost silvery grey robe with her hair styled neatly atop her head and Hermione was loathe to admit she looked just as regal as she had the first time they had met.

Hermione felt her face pale and heat up in annoyance all at once.

The book shop assistant's stuttered admission to this woman's demands filtering through her mind and filling her with a mix of indignation, anger and trepidation as the woman came closer and the brunette was entirely unsure of how to deal with this woman. She could see just how powerful this woman was in the way that those in the book store had reacted to her and Hermione really did not want to offend her.

"Lady Lestrange" she greeted cordially, head inclining respectfully even if the youngster did want to simply roll her eyes and walk away.

"I noticed you dithering dear girl and thought I ought to offer my assistance, the platform can be rather overwhelming for one so tiny" the woman said, stepping forward so they now stood closely face to face. She was so close Hermione could smell her perfume, it smelled like warmth and cinnamon and Hermione could tell by the way the smell clung to the air around it so delicately that it must be something expensive. Matron had perfumes but they all smelt harsh and burned her nose. Jean Granger had told her all about perfume in the beginning of getting to know her. She had taught Hermione how to tell the expensive from the cheap and the brunette had a funny feeling that it was one of those lessons that would stay with her forever.

Lady Lestrange, as if sensing that Hermione was suddenly miles away smiled at the brunette triumphantly. The brunettes momentary distraction being utilised by the older woman, who took Hermione's lack of immediate response as her chance to turn the young witch by her shoulders and take hold of the trolley Hermione was holing on to. The Lestrange Matriarch placed her hands either side of the young brunettes own hands. Hermione couldn't help but feel like it must have looked like a strange and awkward imitation of a tender embrace to passers by. Years of living in an orphanage and being suddenly dumped back in to the present moment had the little brunette flinching more visibly than she would have liked at the woman's proximity. She cringed at herself, breath held as she prayed that the older woman had not noticed, though judging by the hand that was placed on top of her own, Hermione thought it safe to assume that Lestrange had in fact noticed. Thankfully for Hermione though the older woman didn't make comment, simply pushing then forward as she began to guide Hermione and the trolley along the platform without a word.

The brunette moved with the elder witch without complaint. Silent in her uncertainty. Every breath she took drew the women's perfume into her lungs. The warmth and the cinnamon combining in a way that Hermione almost found comforting. Or would have if she didn't know such an emotion was merely a trap. As it was she really did not know how to react to this woman. A woman who was as powerful as she was intimidating and somehow kind. It put Hermione on edge and had her feeling as if she were tiptoeing on egg shells all over again.

When they reached the luggage drop off, Lady Lestrange wasted no time in waving her hand, Hermione's trunk levitating onto the stack of luggage already in place. "Now I have placed a feather light charm upon your trunk, it shall make it a lot easier for you to move on your own. Do Owl me when you figure out how to remove the charm and cast it yourself" the woman explained, finally stepping back from Hermione and moving to stand in front of her. The space giving the younger brunette a chance to breathe freely for the first time in several moments. She took the moment to take a deep breath before forcing herself to meet the older woman's gaze.

"Thank you ma'am" Hermione replied, her tone one of calm and polite gratefulness for the woman's help. Hermione hoped the polite mask would be enough to get the older witch to leave her be, she really did not want to find herself in any sort of verbal sparring match with a virtual stranger in the middle of the platform. Though internally Hermione smirked having already worked out what spell the woman had used. Not that she deem it necessary to inform the woman of that fact. Nor would she inform the elder woman that she was also pretty sure she knew what the counter charm was and once she was allowed to legally use magic she'd be able to cast them pretty quickly. For she had studied as much as she could over the summer and had slowly but surely been feeling her magic more and more.

"You are more than welcome, and please less of the formality young one, it makes me feel old, it's Andromeda or Andy" and fuck if she wasn't careful the woman's gentle tone could have convinced Hermione that she was genuine in her care for her. A muggle-born girl.

"I'll let you board now miss Granger but do keep in touch, I'll expect your owl" and just like the last conversation she had been part of with this woman, Andromeda Lestrange was gone before Hermione had a chance to respond, long legs striding off down the platform towards the Malfoy men who had appeared not to long ago. Her curls bouncing out wildly as she disappeared in the crowd without sparing a backwards glance towards her.

Hermione sighed, her rather impressive brain failing to come up with any sort of reasoning as to why Andromeda Lestrange, a pureblood Lady, had taken an interest in her - a ten year old muggle-born girl. There was absolutely no reason she could think of. Especially now she had read more about the first Wizarding War that ended the year she was born. The book she had found was similar in layout to Hogwarts: A History and no less informative in just what Pureblood supremacists, Followers of Lord Voldemort, thought of muggle-born's like her. She remembered seeing that the Lestrange family had been among those that had supported the Dark Lord, loudly in fact.

The brunette shook her head, refusing to let the encounter dampen her new found freedom and excitement. She wasn't going to let any of the confusion she was feeling dampen her first full day as an official Hogwarts student and Hermione did her best to force down her nerves as she boarded the Hogwarts express in search of a compartment to find herself a seat.

The trains hallway was not the widest of Hallways but the oak doors separating each enclosed seating area gave it a cosy feel that had the young witches shoulders relaxing minutely as she went. Hermione searched along the corridor to find herself an empty compartment, a feat that was easier than she thought it would be. As someone with no loving relatives to see her off and therefore no tearful goodbyes or hugs that lasted a little too long, meant that she was one of the first to board. She settled down, closing the door behind her before pulling out her book on mastering ones magic once again. She was determined to prove to herself that she could do it despite her lineage. That she could master her own magic and be as powerful and as accomplished as any other witch or wizard. Though she didn't plan on showing anyone she could do such a thing when she eventually achieved it. Not for now any way.

She had learned quickly in the orphanage that showing off all the knowledge she held only resulted in her making enemies out of people, she had experienced the harsh truth of that early on, the bullying had been horrible in the beginning despite it having built the brunette a thick skin.

Knowledge was power, but in her eyes it was even more powerful to you when those you faced didn't know you held that power. It meant you could go unnoticed, underestimated and generally left alone. Something she found quite appealing in all reality and as the brunette heard the whistle blow, signalling the trains imminent departure, she smiled softly, soon losing herself within her book.

The sudden loud bang of her compartment door startled Hermione out of her book, as the oak bounced of the wall. Flung open by a force Hermione had not been aware of as it approached her. The noise had her alert and standing quickly, her eyes narrowed, glued to the now open door. Her left hand was clutching her book and her right palm was downward facing. Parallel to the floor instinctively. In front of her appeared two males, who looked to be a few years older than she was. Both boys were holding their wands menacingly in their hands as they sneered at her. Wand tips pointed at the startled ten year old.

"Draco mentioned there was a mud-blood on board, thought we'd come check out the trash ourselves and introduce you to your betters." the first boy said. He was pale in comparison to his companion, brown shaggy hair hanging rather messily down his narrow features.

"Seems Malfoy was right and we do have a mud-blood amongst us. A mud-blood in need of being taught her place." the second agreed, a cruel smirk on his face. His hair was dark, cut short to the point of almost non-existence. His nose looked too large for his face and sat a little squint. They both looked at her with indifference but Hermione could see the flicker of cruelty gleaming in their eyes. She would not show it but the cruelty she could see within them frightened her more than a little.

Their words however sparked that same anger within her that she had felt the day she had been knocked over off her feet by Malfoy in the book shop. The slur, stung just as much as it had before but she refused to let it show. She refused to let bigots see her upset. Hermione straightened her spine and raised her chin, deliberately meeting their prejudice with defiance. Not moving an inch even as they raised their arms slightly in silent threat.

"Leave." she said calmly, as she stared them both in the eye and she could see her false confidence had confused them a little. Hesitance creeping up on their faces, wands lowering slightly, before it was gone. Replaced by two identical looks of anger.

"You filth, dare command us?" the first boy spat in disbelief.

"It seems you need to learn to respect your betters mud-blood" the second added with hatred before raising his wand again. "Aguamenti"

A stream of ice cold water shot towards her rapidly and acting on nothing more than instinct, Hermione raised her empty hand. Her aim was to protect, at the very least, her face and book from the oncoming spell. Though when she saw the water run off an invisible force field, not touching her in the slightest she looked up in confusion. Eyes searching for the source of what she recognised as a Protego spell from her reading. It was effectively a shield of sorts, that wrapped itself around its castor to protect the individual from most spells, curses and jinx's.

When Hermione saw that no one else was around, she looked to her still raised hand in confusion. The shocked expression of her almost attackers were enough for her to know it wasn't either of them who had cast it.

Her raised palm, upon inspection, was glowing slightly as the shield around her held. The two unknown boys had begun to cast more spells in her direction, both hoping to get something past her protective barrier to humiliate or hurt her in some way.

The brunette stood there for a few minutes, her mind focused on the way the magic felt in her hands. After a few moments Hermione refocused. Not wanting to risk the shield dropping if she were to grow too distracted by her thoughts. She was growing rather bored and annoyed with their attempted at attacking her as they continued to throw spells at her. She had known this was a possibility, that she would face some sort of conflict regarding her blood status at some point in her magical career. McGonagall and her books had warned her enough of the remaining blood prejudice that still ran deeply in some circles of this new world and she knew if she gave them even an inch to hurt her now, they wouldn't stop. She didn't want her next seven years to be like the ten she had spent in the muggle world and that meant she had to stand her ground. Stand strong and prove everyone around her that they were wrong.

She wasn't weak or inferior, nor did her blood make her dirty. Hermione Jean Granger would not be made to bow and cower again, this was her chance at building something for herself and she was not about to let two teen boys ruin that on the first day. She grit her teeth. Somehow managing to push down on her fear and uncertainty as she narrowed her eyes at them. She took another deep breath to center herself, allowing her to feel her magic clearly, she could feel as it pulsed and curled around her, warming her. She took note of the way her hand felt slightly warmer than the rest of her. Her magic being channelled to that point of her body, evidenced by the slight glow that radiated from her hand.

'To ever have the chance of mastering ones true magical ability one must first learn to feel their magic as instinctively and as naturally as if it were a physical object' the words of the book she had devoured twice now whispered through her mind as she let the feeling of her magic, the warmth, give her the confidence she needed to hold both boys off. Her hand glowing brighter the more sure she became. Every nerve in her body feeling warmer as her resolve to stand her ground strengthened. She pushed her hand out further. Arm straight, keeping her palm flat. Surprising herself at how steady she appeared to be, feet planted shoulder width apart.

"I said leave." she repeated as they finally ran out of steam in their spell casting, their wands lowering to their sides a slight fearful look lingering in their eyes. Yet Hermione could tell that they were enraged by what was happening..

Before they got the chance to retreat, the blonde boy she had knocked over several weeks ago appeared in the door way of her cart. Draco Malfoy looked just as regal as he had the first time they had met, however, Hermione could have sworn he currently looked even more arrogant than he had that day. His robes were perfectly pressed and expensive looking, though the surprised look on his face contradicted the sophisticated arrogance he held himself with as he looked between Hermione, her glowing palm and the two boys.

"Paucey, McNair what is going on?" The blonde boy demanded not sparing her a second glance as he seemingly settled on addressing the two older boys.

"We came to teach the mud-blood a lesson is what is happening but the filth has used some trick to make our spells ineffective." the dark haired boy growled, casting an accusing look her way.

"So you, Paucey, thought you ought to embarrass yourselves further by continuing to throw ineffective spells at a girl several years your junior. Are you both insane? If she went to a professor you would both be expelled." he chastised and Hermione had to fight hard to conceal her mirth. She couldn't help but find something acutely funny about seeing the much smaller blonde all but dress down two boys much like they were small children, his chastising tone reminding the brunette of the way Lady Lestrange had chastised Draco and his father in the book shop. It made her wonder just how close Draco was to the woman, not that she cared too much for the answer. But she really was the curious sort after all.

"Besides regardless of her unfortunate blood status, my aunt has tasked me with letting the student body know that this mud-blood is off limits. She is under the protection of Lady Lestrange and therefore an attack on her person will be seen as a personal attack on the Lestrange family." His words almost knocked Hermione off her feet as much as it very nearly did the two boys. Though she managed to conceal her shock and horror much better than they did. Her face remaining blank and unimpressed, while the pair grew pale and their brows began to sweat grossly.

"Do you really want to earn the ire of the Lestrange, Black and Malfoy families over a mud-blood?" The blonde continued with faux kindness. His voice bordering sickly sweet.

She watched as the boys stuttered, their heads shaking profusely as they paled further than the brunette thought possible. "out." Draco replied simply, to their panicked look and the pair left hurriedly not having to be told more than once. Draco scoffed at their retreating backs before turning to offer Hermione a small nod.

"My aunt sends her regards." He said quietly, his voice emotionless. He wasted no time on waiting on her reply, his footsteps sounding quietly as he followed her two almost attackers. He pulled the door behind him, all the while she remained mute while her mind reeled.

She was under the protection of Lady Lestrange? Andromeda Lestrange? The woman who should despise her for her heritage? whom had done nothing but confuse and frighten her since they had met? That Lady Lestrange had ordered her nephew to make sure she was protected? She could not make sense of that as yet again the mystery and audacity of that woman grew.

And as the train rolled into Hogsmead Station, Hermione could not shake her unease at the revaluation. Internally screaming at the confusing mix of anger, shock, pain and uncertainty this Witch, she had only met a small number of times, was causing her.

Her softly muttered "what the fuck" went unheard by anyone and un criticised herself for her lapse in composure. But the three simple if a little crude words were an adequate response to what she had just learned she supposed. She turned to get changed. Shaking her head to try and quiet her thoughts, a vain attempt at closing off her now busy mind. She needed to focus on simply getting to the castle. One Step at a time.