She hugged him back, and before she could lose herself anymore, she turned and hugged her mother too. She took another deep breath, turned her trunk and raptor ladened trolley, pointed it in the direction of the space between platforms nine and ten, and walked off at a brisk, confident pace. Her heart beat even faster as she neared the barrier, but she didn't slow down. She reached it, closed her eyes, and opened them a moment later to see the magnificent scarlet Hogwarts Express.
She kept on walking and joy filled her heart. Her world. She looked around and suddenly realised that, like in Diagon Alley, she was surrounded by other witches and wizards. Her Slytherin mask slid into place and her pace slowed to a more graceful gait.
To her left, an older wizard complained to an even older witch. "I mean really, all this fuss over one prepubescent kid."
"Now, now, Gilbert. You wouldn't be saying that if you'd been in the country eleven years ago."
Her joy faded a notch. She mentally rolled her eyes.
A little further on, a group of older students bantered among themselves. "Check it out. Mum baked two cakes. I get to present the other to The-Boy-Who-Lived when we're off."
She shook her head.
Nearing the centre of the platform, she caught sight of today's Daily Prophet headline on a sales stall. Boy-Who-Lived Starts Hogwarts — Pride of the Light.
Humph! She barely held back a scowl. And people were going to call her ignorant. How could they heap such praise and attention on her Harry's brother, and then turn around and treat her best friend like scum scraped off their boots?
Hermione turned her back on the offending news stand, walked a few paces away, and looked around for a place to change. She spotted a dark corner and headed towards it. She picked Hedwig off the top of the trunk, opened the lid, and, much to the surprise of a few nearby wizards, climbed into the trunk, and locked the lid behind her.
Back inside her beloved miniature library, she stripped down to her underwear and pulled on her brand-new, black, acromantula silk Hogwarts robes. The moment she'd finished straightening it, her vassalage crest appeared above her left breast and on her sleeves.
On her right hand, the vassal ring of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin faded into sight, and on her left, the ring of House Granger followed it. Harry's silver lightening bolt ring rested on her pinky, hidden to all but his most trusted. That meant her. She felt warmth run through her at the thought and almost skipped back to the stairs, which led to the trunk's lid. She unlocked the lid, pocked her head out, and stared.
This wasn't where she'd left the trunk. Her eyebrows furrowed. She could see over the top of the Express. The floor seemed quite a way away.
Chortles wafted up from below. She looked down. Two red headed boys, a bit older than her and indistinguishable from each other, gazed up at her. They looked to be waiting for a reaction.
"You know its very rude to interfere with a lady when she's changing."
This apparently wasn't the reaction they'd been expecting. They looked at each other, eyebrows raised, before turning back to her. "Our sincere apologies, my lady," the one on the left said. They gave synchronised, over-exaggerated bows.
"If we'd realised you were changing, we would of course have offered to help."
Her eyes widened. No. Bad Hermione. Slytherin mask, Slytherin mask… "Well, can you at least help me down then?"
"Certainly, my lady." They waved their wands together and chanted, "Wingardium Leviosa."
Her heart skipped a beat as her world jerked and she found herself slowly descending to the ground. The trunk landed with a soft clonk of wood on stone. She carefully finished her journey, stepping out of the trunk, and closing it behind her with an audible clunk.
The red-haired twins stared at her.
"Yes?"
They looked at each other again. Then back at her. "You're… so are you a first year or not? We don't remember ever seeing you before."
"Why would I not be a first year?"
The one on the right pointed at the crest on her chest. "You're already sorted." It sounded almost like an accusation.
"Ah, no. You see where the helmet would normally be? There are two crossed wands instead. That means I am a vassal of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Slytherin."
The two looked like she'd just announced the sky was green and the grass was blue. "A vassal? Do they still exist?"
"Yes. I'm one of them."
"Well, we certainly wouldn't want to get on the wrong side of a servant of the forces of evil, now would we, Fred?"
"Certainly not, oh brother of mine."
She wasn't sure what to say to this so she said nothing.
"I'm sure she'll want to be on her way."
"Mmhmmm… to pillage and terrorise, no doubt."
"Yes, to hunt down the innocent and steal all their chocolate frogs."
"To find all the ikle muggleborns and jinx all their electrics."
"Heeey!"
They looked back at her.
Slytherin mask. Slytherin mask… "I would have you know that I am a muggleborn."
Now the twins looked like they'd checked the sky and grass and found she'd been right. They blinked. Finally one whispered. "The Dark Muggleborn."
She scoffed. "I'm not Dark. I'm Gray."
They frowned. "The Gray Muggleborn doesn't have quite the same punch, does it, George?"
"No it doesn't, Fred."
She hefted her trunk and started to drag it, slowly, towards the carriage. "Shouldn't we be moving? The train must be leaving soon."
As one, they swept by her, grabbed opposite sides of the trunk, and heaved it up. "After you, my lady."
....
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