Alice's gaze kept drifting toward the corner of the room, where Jasper sat stiffly, staring out the window. The thoughts of doubt and anxiety we're coming off him in waves. His family did not need to be mind readers like Edward to know the nervousness he was experiencing was being caused by their upcoming trip that was met with both dread and excitement by all parties. Esme entered the living room with a flourish, her rolling suitcase trailing behind her, and gathered her family's attention with a thunderous clap of her hands.

"Alright, everyone, the portkey activates in two minutes!" she announced, pulling a large silk-wrapped parcel from her purse. She set it down on the table, untying the ends of the scarf to reveal a candelabra with seven glowing arms. "Everyone have their bags? Ready to go?" Esme fussed, checking on each family member. A chorus of "yeses" mixed with a few groans answered her. The candelabra's soft golden light intensified. "It's time," Alice sang, her voice light with anticipation.

Each of them grabbed an arm, and in an instant, an overwhelming force yanked them from their feet. Like fish on a hook, they were pulled into a swirling vortex, the candelabra spinning alongside them. When they finally rematerialized, with a loud boom, they crashed in a tangled heap onto the soft grass, the impact leaving them a disoriented mess.

They quickly untangled themselves, trying to regain their bearings after the unfamiliar method of travel.

"I didn't know we could get sick from that," Emmett groaned, clutching his stomach and kneeling on the soft grass.

"We can't," Carlisle replied, brushing grass off his woolen coat. He extended a hand to Emmett, helping him up. "Up you go. You'll be fine."

Carlisle helped the rest of his family to their feet, adjusting ties, fluffing hair, and brushing off any lingering grass, ensuring they looked immaculate for his old friend Slughorn.

They approached the grand gates, shimmering with a golden glint. The castle rose majestically against the Scottish landscape, its weathered stone walls standing firm, towers reaching high into the sky. The castle's windows flickered with light, and the grounds stretched out in a sea of thick green grass and dense forests. At the entrance, a petite brunette with curly hair and a tall, pale blond boy stood in the midst of a heated argument. The witch had her wand pointed firmly at the boy's chest.

"-Doing this because Slughorn asked, or did you forget what that badge you're wearing entails?"

"Granger," the boy hissed.

"You insufferable git, what you're going to call me a swot? A know-it-all? What next?"

"Granger,"

"Are you going to call Slughorn's guests filthy blood suckers? I'm sure they'd have no issue with my muddy blood. You treacherous arse, you're lucky I don't hex you into oblivion .You smooth brained knuck-"

"Granger!"

The boy raised his hands in a show of peace, though the smirk on his face remained. He flicked his head toward the gates, and Hermione's gaze followed his movement. Standing just beyond the gates were seven of the most striking individuals she had ever seen.

Her breath caught in her throat, and heat prickled up her chest as a flush rushed to her face. The group stood as if they belonged to another world; tall, impossibly graceful, with an air of authority that seemed to make the very ground beneath them tremble. They had an almost ethereal quality to them.

Hermione had met vampires before, but the ones before her resembled nothing of Sanguini's sallow skin and sunken eyes. Each one of them was a picture of perfection, their faces sculpted with such symmetry it seemed unreal. Nothing like the emaciated man she'd once met. But it wasn't just their looks, it was their presence. The way they carried themselves and the energy they exuded was nothing short of mesmerizing. Hermione felt her pulse quicken, and she found herself unsure whether to feel awe or discomfort.

One of the figures, a man with smooth platinum blond hair, similar to Draco's, and eyes that gleamed with a warm light, stepped forward. He tilted his head slightly, as his mouth stretched into a wide grin revealing a row of gleaming straight white teeth. "Ah, Hermione Granger! Horace told me you'd be greeting us!" His voice was sweet, and rich, like a sip of warm milk. "I'm Dr. Carlisle Cullen, this is my family, Edward, Emmett, Esme, Jasper, and Rosalie" He said motioning to the people behind him.

Hermione blinked, taken aback. It'd been over a year since the end of the war but the recognition was still jarring. "Y-Yes," she stammered, her throat suddenly dry. She pushed away the lingering feelings of fear. Slughorn wouldn't put her at risk. She gave them a tight smile as she motioned them through the gates. "It's a pleasure to meet you all," she said, offering her hand to the Cullen patriarch. He took her hand between both of his, giving it a firm squeeze. Hermione let out a sharp gasp as she was startled by the frigid temperature of his hands. She unconsciously flexed her fingers when he released her.

The towering man with the black hair chuckled lightly, his smile never faltering. "No need to be so shy," he said, taking a step closer, his presence becoming even more overwhelming. "We don't bite."

Hermione's mind raced, every ounce of reason telling her to take a step back. Did he just say what I think he said?

But before she could respond, a woman beside him stepped forward, her brown hair flowing like caramel. Her eyes, a striking shade of gold, looked at Hermione with a kind yet curious gaze. "Ignore him. He's always too eager to make an impression." She paused, a slight smile playing on her lips. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Granger. I'm Esme Cullen, Carlisle's wife"

Hermione, still flushed and more than a little overwhelmed, forced herself to say something coherent. "It's... it's nice to meet you too," she said, though the words felt hollow as they left her mouth.

The boy beside her, clearly amused by her discomfort, leaned in slightly. "Careful, Granger. They're not like anyone you've ever met." He paused, as if savoring the moment. "Draco Malfoy," he said, giving the group a tight nod.

Hermione, trying to maintain her composure, glanced at the others. They were all watching her now; quiet, inscrutable, as if waiting for something. She couldn't shake the feeling that she was being measured, evaluated, in some way she couldn't quite understand.

"Right, well we can show you to Professor Slughorn's office down in the dungeons for now, after that Mal-Draco and I can escort you to your chambers." She said as she led them through the entrance hall and down the dim stairwell to the dungeons. "I believe Professor Slughorn has plans to host you all for dinner in the Great Hall but until then we would be happy to show you around the castle or answer any questions you may have," she said in a monotonous tone, as if this little spiel had been rehearsed in front of a mirror.

"Well, here we are," She said as they approached the door of the Potion Master's classroom.

Edward sat at a nearby table as his father, for all intents and purposes, chatted up the grey-haired old man. They spoke with warm familiarity, sizing each other up in a way that only spoke of respect.

"Carlisle, my boy, looking as young and handsome as ever," Slughorn said, and Edward caught the passing thought of just how handsome Slughorn thought Carlisle was.

"Sluggy, if I could blush, you'd have me coloring all sorts of shades," Carlisle responded, and Edward rolled his eyes. He scanned the room, appraising the rows of tables, each stocked with a cauldron on its surface. Edward's gaze lingered on the two figures who had greeted his family, standing apart from each other yet their eyes were still locked in silent communication, never wavering and filled with unspoken understanding. Edward, ever the observer, tried to hone in on their thoughts but was met with a static silence. Witches and wizards weren't exempt from his mind-reading, especially given the way Slughorn's thoughts screamed his attraction to Carlisle, so he was incredibly curious as to why he couldn't hear those two.

The pair continued to share meaningful glances, subtle smirks, and the occasional quiet snort from the girl, as if they were engaged in some private conversation. Lost in his own thoughts, Edward found himself staring at the girl, her deliciously flushed cheeks almost glowing in the dim candlelight. Before he could stop himself, he noticed the boy's sharp scowl directed at him, and he quickly looked away, mentally cursing his slip.

He plastered a neutral expression on his face, giving the duo a curt nod before turning his attention back to his family. He ignored the majority of his father's and his old friend's quick catch-up, tuning back in at the perfect moment.

"Miss Granger and Mister Malfoy can escort your children to their chambers. They'll be staying in the Head Dormitories," Slughorn announced, motioning the two forward. Hermione let out a small huff, which did not go unnoticed by her professor.

"Worry not, Miss Granger, you well know the castle will accommodate," Slughorn added, clapping his hands in an overly cheerful manner. "Topsy, Bippy!" With a loud thunderous crack, two small, pale, wrinkled creatures with large floppy ears and sacks for clothing appeared in the room.

"Yes, Masters Slughorn," one of the creatures said with a bow.

"Topsy, take these five trunks to the Head Dormitory. Bippy, you will take these two trunks to the honorary guest chambers in the professors' quarters," Slughorn instructed with a dismissive wave of his hand.

Edward watched as Hermione narrowed her eyes at her professor, her lips pressing together in a tight line. She let out another indignant huff, as if there was something left unsaid, some subtle tension that only she seemed to pick up on.

"Alright, well that's settled. Mister Malfoy, Miss Granger, do escort our guests to their chambers now," Slughorn directed the two students.

"Very well, follow us then," Granger said as she motioned for the Cullens to follow them down the hall.

The pair flanked the group of vampires as they escorted them through the castle, giving a half-hearted explanation of the various tapestries and moving paintings that hung in the corridors. The group approached a staircase that lurched beneath their feet nearly knocking the two students into each other.

"Sorry, the staircase has a mind of its own and since we've reopened, it's been exceptionally tetchy," Hermione explained, a tinge of irritation lacing her voice. "We'll have to wait for it to get around."

The group stood still as the stairs turned slowly, groaning under their feet as they approached a series of adjoining corridors. After the third stop, Hermione motioned them forward. The Cullens followed quietly, trailing the students down a dim stone corridor. As they neared a moving portrait, Edward recognized it instantly-Circe Invidiosa by John William Waterhouse. The woman in the portrait dipped a bowl into a stream of water, then raised it, offering it to them before dumping the water back into the stream with a mirthless smile.

"Assiduous Acts," said Malfoy clearly. The portrait swung open revealing a suite beyond. The group entered the quarters watching as a door materialized between the two already existing doors that were labeled each with corresponding monograms. Alice let out a small squeak and the rest of the group echoed her sentiments with audible gasps of their own.

"So I guess that's what Professor Slughorn meant when he said the castle will accommodate," said Draco with a smug smirk.

He led them through the door, revealing a comfortable sitting room with a grand piano in the corner and shelves crammed with books. On the coffee table sat a wizard's chess set and a small sack of gobstones.

"I guess the castle figured we'd need to entertain ourselves with the whole 'no sleep' thing," Alice said with a giggle, her pixie-like voice light.

Edward approached the bookshelf, his fingers trailing over the titles. There were a few books he recognized, but more were new to him. He scanned the shelves:

Legilimency and the Language of Minds
Prophetic Practices of Divination
Emotive Intentions and Practical Uses

Hermione cleared her throat, her voice flat again. "We'll leave you to settle in for now. If you need anything, feel free to let us know. I'm not sure if you can call elves, but I'll find out. Come along, Malfoy." She gave him a gentle tug, leading him out of the room.

The Cullens shared wary looks, their incredulity evident as the students left the hemovoric guests behind.