Author's Note: No matter how this may seem, the story is strictly Harry/Hermione, not Harry/Hermione/Blaise.
Chapter 3
Harry meandered his way from one platform to another. He hadn't bothered to tell his family that he'd been accepted to Hogwarts. They probably didn't even know he was gone yet. Just to be sure, he'd left a not pinned to his door, telling them where he was.
He'd caught a train from Little Whinging to Kings Cross earlier that day. Once he was on the platform for tracks nine and ten, Harry began to look around for Hermione. They'd agreed to meet near the entrance to platform 9 ¾ forty-five minutes before the train was due to leave. Hermioen had wanted to make sure that they had enough time to find the platform if they had the directions wrong.
Seeing Leopold Granger, Harry raised his arm and waved. Mr. Granger waved back, then began to walk over, leading his wife and daughters. Hermione pushed a cart with her trunk, Crookshanks' carrier, and Hedwig's cage on it. Harry had left his owl, now named Hedwig, in Hermione's care until the beginning of school.
"Harry!" cried out Gertrude, wrapping herself around Harry's legs. Hermione rolled her eyes before hugging Harry as well.
"Hi, Mrs. Granger, Mr. Granger," said Harry. "So, let's go find this platform."
Ten minutes later, Hermione and Harry had bid her family farewell. Harry carried both trunks while Hermione carried Crookshanks and Hedwig. Once they'd found a compartment Harry approved of, he removed several objects from the trunks before putting them up on the racks. Hermione busied herself with closing the compartment door and letting Crookshanks out of his carrier.
Harry placed the books on one of the seats along with their lunch and drinks. He held up a deck of cards with a rubber band around them.
"Wanna play?"
----
Neville Longbottom blinked at the sight in front of him, unsure if he wanted to enter the compartment. A black haired boy around his age was wrestling with a brunette girl in a scandalously short skirt (it only reached her knees). A fluffly ginger cat watched them in disdain while a snowy owl hooted disapprovingly.
After several moments, the girl won the wrestling match. The boy lay on his back, his feet toward Neville while the girl stradled his waist, an alarming amount of thigh showing. She held up something small and square.
"Mwahahahahaha," laughed the girl. In a voice that did not sound particularly serious, she declared, "I have won the ever adored deck of cards! A Granger shall never again be forced to play poker! Mwahahaha!"
"I will defeat you," cried out the boy. "You and your evil rummy playing ways!"
"Wait," said the girl. "Why do I have to be the bad guy? I want to be the good guy."
"But I was the evil guy yesterday," whined the boy.
"Oh fine," said the girl. "Mwahahahaha! Never again shall you play the game of poker!"
"Uh, hi," said Neville, deciding to interrupt them before they became too involved in their… game.
The boy sat up, trapping the girl between his chest and his knees while the girl turned at the waist to look at Neville. The girl blushed and the boy smirked. Neville tried not to wince at the scar that went across the boy's face.
"Hi, I'm Hermione Granger," explained the girl. "This is Harry Potter. Are you a first year as well?"
"Y-yeah," said Neville. "Do you-do you mind if I sit here?"
"Put your trunk up, we were about to play a game of poker," said Harry.
Hermione punched him in the arm. "We were going to play gin rummy!"
"Maybe you should play war instead," Neville said shyly, putting his trunk next to Hermione's.
Hermione and Harry shrugged at each other.
"Sounds good."
"You're going to play, right?" said Hermione.
Neville nodded, closed the door and settled himself across from Hermione and Harry. Harry moved off Harry's lap to lean against a seat while Harry leaned against the other seat. Once Hermione had dealt out the cards, they began to play.
By the time the train left the platform, the children had moved from playing war to playing gin rummy. Neville's toad, Trevor, tried to escape when the woman with the snack trolley came by, but Crookshanks stopped the toad.
The card game broke up so that Harry and Hermione could eat their prepared lunches while Neville ate several treats from the trolley.
"Say, Nev, do you know how we get sorted?" asked Harry.
"Gran said it was supposed to be a surprise."
"Fair enough."
Hermione perked up. "Do you know which house you want to be in?"
----
Harry sat sideways in the small boat, hand trailing through the water. Hermione rolled her eyes over her copy of the Communist Manifesto. Neville shook slightly, obviously frightened, though Hermione and Harry weren't sure why. Even with their shields up, they could feel that nothing nearby was truly dangerous.
"Still plotting to help the proletariat overthrow the evil capitalist bourgeoisie?" asked Harry.
"Of course not," said Hermione. "Marx was hopelessly optimistic. While his theories are interesting, communism could never truly work. I just find his work an interesting read."
"Ah. Can I borrow your copy of The Prince again when you're done with it?"
"Of course."
At that moment, the boats landed. Harry moved his hands slightly, then did a backwards handstand onto the shore. He wiped his dirty hands off on a cloak belonging to a boy with bleach blonde hair, then offered his hand to Hermione. The blonde did not seem to have noticed Harry dirtying his cloak.
"Milady," said Harry.
"Thank you, good sir," said Hermione, carefully accepting his hand.
Once Hermione was out of the boat, Harry asked, "Need any help, Nev?"
None of the other students seemed to have noticed the act Harry was putting on, much to Hermione's amusement. Harry led Hermione along as she looked around, mildly impressed by the castle.
Several minutes later, Harry watched the sorting hat sing, slightly uncomfortable with the idea of a hat reading his thoughts. If it could even get past his shields, that is.
Eventually Hermione was called. The hat spent several minutes thinking, before announcing, "SLYTHERIN!"
Harry raised an eyebrow at that. He'd known that Hermione had all sorts of plans in place, mostly involving changing the way the world at large viewed the preternatural, but he hadn't quite expected Slytherin. Then again, Hermione was already talking about getting various magic users organized and creating unions.
Harry was called up shortly after Neville was sorted into Gryffindor. He plopped down on the rickety stool and put the hat on.
'You need to take your shields down,' whispered a voice. 'I can't sort you if I can't read your mind… impressive use of occlumency, by the way. You are the first student to successfully keep me out in a little over two hundred years. Let's see what we have here… rather ambitious, at times. Very loyal, but it's not easy to gain your loyalty. Hardworking, yes… No, not Hufflepuff. You'd terrify them. Perhaps… no, not Gryffindor. You want to remain with your friend, yes? I do believe that being clever enough to hide your lycanthropy for so many years marks you as a perfect choice for' "SLYTHERIN!"
There was shocked silence as Harry walked over to the Slytherin table, taking a seat across from Hermione, his back to the wall. Slowly the Slytherins started to clap, obviously confused about having the boy-who-lived sorted into their house.
Once Zabini joined them, the feast began. Most of the other first years were too busy staring at Harry to bother putting food on their plates. After a long moment, the bleach blonde boy from out side stuck his hand between Harry and his plate of food.
"I'm Draco Malfoy," the boy said, his voice filled with self importance.
"I'm Harry Potter and that's Hermione Granger," said Harry, trying to remember to be polite despite the fact that Malfoy was only seconds away from having his hand stabbed by Harry's fork.
"Hi, Draco," said Hermione.
Draco sneered at Hermione, removing his hand. "Granger is not a pureblood name. Are you a halfblood?" Draco's voice made his opinion of halfboods quite obvious.
"Muggleborn," announced Hermione.
"You're a mudblood?!" demanded Draco, sounding incredulous. "They let a mudblood into Slytherin!"
The entire Slytherin table stopped talking. All of them were staring at Hermione.
Perhaps Hogwarts was more dangerous than he'd originally thought. With a mental sigh, Harry decided to make it clear that such remarks toward Hermione would not be tolerated. He grabbed Draco's hand underneath the table and began to push the boy's thumb back, ignoring his protests.
"Draco, I suggest you close your mouth. Immediately," said Harry, his voice seconds away from a growl. "Yes, Hermione is a Muggleborn. My mother was Muggleborn as well. Insult Hermione or my mother again, and I'll do more than break your thumb. Do we understand each other?"
Draco nodded quickly, tears streaming down his face as Harry broke his thumb. Nobody moved to help either Harry or Draco, watching with silent interest.
"Now then, I suggest you apologize to Hermione for what you said."
"But-" said Draco, obviously unwilling to 'lower himself' in such a way.
"Bad choice, Draco," said Harry, before breaking his pointer finger in two places.
Draco was openly sobbing by that point. "I'm sorry, I'm sorry."
"Good to see that you saw the error of your ways," said Harry. "You might want to get your hand seen to. Your bones could heal crooked."
Draco gave him a look that promised vengeance, then moved down the table to sit between two ape-like boys. Obviously his goons. The first years, and many of the nearby students were looking at Harry with interest, and a bit of respect.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "Must you insist on using force to prove your point?"
"He insulted you and Mum," said Harry.
"Thank you for defending my honor," said Hermione. She turned to the girl next to her. "I'm Hermione."
"Daphne Greengrass," said the girl. "This is Tracey Davis, Blaise Zabini and Theodore Nott."
"It's a pleasure to meet you," said Hermione.
She kicked Harry under the table. Though focused on his food, Harry had been keeping an eye on what was happening. He sighed and looked up.
"Harry Potter," he said, shaking Blaise and Theodore's hand.
Harry and Blaise starred at each other. Though the other Slytherins weren't sure what had happened, something had passed between the two boys.
"Bear," whispered Harry, just loud enough for Blaise to hear.
Blaise nodded and then mouthed, "Cat."
The two tested each other in what, to the rest of the table, seemed to be a staring contest. Harry brushed his beast past Blaise's. The two beasts fought for several seconds until the bear surrendered. Only Hermione seemed to know what had really happened, and that was because she knew how to look past Harry's shields.
"Well met," said Blaise.
"Indeed," said Harry. "Do you know how many more…"
"Swan among the ravens," said Blaise, nodding toward the Ravenclaw table.
An arrogant looking Asian girl was giving them a disapproving look. A swanmane, from what Blaise had said. Harry reached out, testing her power. The girl flinched back, seemingly ready to cry.
"Weak, isn't she," said Harry.
"Mmm," nodded Blaise.
Apparently Blaise's acceptance of Harry, and Hermione (if only because Harry had protected her), broke the ice for the rest of the Slytherins. Tracey and Daphne quickly swept Hermione into a conversation on Muggle Witches and Wizarding Witches. Both purebloods were amazed to learn what Muggles considered legal. Meanwhile, Harry had started to explain football to Blaise and Theodore, sparking a fierce debate over the merits of both Quidditch and football.
Eventually, the feast finished. Some Slytherin Prefects led them down into the dungeons. The password was said (carpe diem), and the first years led to a group of chairs by the Prefects while the rest of the students went down a corridor.
"Right," said the Prefect-Adrian Pucey if Harry remembered correctly. "I don't care what sort of problems you have with your housemates; outside of the dungeon you damn well better show a unified front. Do you understand me?"
Harry rolled his eyes and put his arm around Hermione's shoulders. The two had decided to squeeze into an armchair rather than fight their housemates for one of the couches.
"Now then," said a female Prefect. Alana, Alanis, Alicia, something along those lines. "There are several private rooms left and, of course, there's room in the dorms. No more than four to a private room. Each of the private rooms has its own bathroom and sitting room. Choose carefully. If you get a private room, it is your room for the rest of your time at Hogwarts. You are stuck with whoever you decide to room with. There are absolutely no room changes, except for from the regular dorms to a private room at the beginning of the next year. Any questions?"
"Are you allowed to room with somebody of the opposite gender?" asked Harry, already thinking of Hermione's protection. He didn't trust any of the girls in Slytherin not to try to hurt Hermione in her sleep.
"No rules against it," shrugged Pucey. "Any private room without a name plate is fair game. If you want the room, go inside and declare that it's your room."
As the female Prefect began going on about several other rules, Blaise sidled over. "You two planning on rooming together?"
Harry nodded. "She knows."
Blaise gave him a speculative look. "Mind if I room with you as well?"
"Hermione?" asked Harry.
She shrugged. "Is this a thing about… you know?"
Harry and Blaise shared a look. "You remember how I prefer to sleep? It's the same for all of us."
"Then I don't see why not," said Hermione.
After ten minutes of droning on about things that could easily be read in Hogwarts, A History, the Prefects set them loose. Harry and Blaise scanned the hallways carefully, eventually settling on a generally overlooked room at the end of a hallway. The two of them had found two secret passages within ten feet of the door while Hermione had found another secret passage in the room itself.
"I, Harry Potter, claim this room for myself and Hermione Granger and Blaise Zabini," said Harry, stepping into the room.
A name plate appeared on the door with all three of their names. Harry closed the door and began to examine the sitting room.
It was rather large, with a couch, a loveseat, four chairs, and a small fireplace. All the seats were overstuffed and green with silver lining. Against one wall was a table with several chairs around it. All of the walls had a bookcase or two against them. A cream and green carpet covered the stone floor.
There were three desks, a mirror, and two windows looking into the lake in the bedroom. The windows were covered by green velvet curtains that matched the hangings on the three beds. Each bed had a trunk at the end, and one wardrobe, probably for Hermione, stood against a wall. Crookshanks lazily stretched from his place on Hermione's bed.
"So, were you infected?" asked Blaise.
"Yeah. You?"
"Family guardian, actually. I have all the instincts and abilities of a regular lycanthrope without the moon dictating when I transform," explained Blaise. "Does Dumbledore know you're a wereleopard?"
"No. And I'll make anyone who outs me wish for death," said Harry.
"Understood."
"These beds are a bit small for all three of us," said Hermione.
"If we ask, the House-Elves will probably replace them with a bigger bed," said Blaise. "Let's call one."
"House-Elves are…?"
"Creatures bound to a person, family, or, in the case of Hogwarts, place," explained Blaise. "They're servants, and they love being useful."
"Why don't you see about replacing two of the beds with a full or queen sized bed," said Harry. "We'll leave one of the twin sized beds in case somebody wants to sleep alone at any point. While you're doing that, Hermione and I will see about setting up some wards."
----
By midnight everything had been set up to Harry, Hermione, and Blaise's satisfaction. Harry and Hermione and warded the entire set of rooms to protect against any sort of spying devices along with anybody who meant hard of any sort to the people who resided in the rooms or their possessions, no matter what form the person was in, unless it was an elf. They also set it up so that each time somebody entered the room through a door or secret passage, they had to be let in by Harry, Blaise, or Hermione.
While they were doing that, Blaise had had a House-Elf replace two of the twin sized beds with a full sized bed, claiming that all three had nightmares, and found comfort in sleeping in the same bed. Luckily the House-Elf bought the excuse. Neither Harry nor Blaise had wanted to explain that given a choice, shapeshifters preferred to share a bed, sleeping in a big, puppy pile. It was nothing sexual, but both knew that few would believe that it was about comfort.
**
The peace of breakfast was broken by a rather unusual sight. Two Slytherin first years approached the Gryffindor table while another Slytherin first year saved several seats for them. Harry and Hermione stopped around a foot from a very sleepy Neville Longbottom.
"This is stickup!" said Hermione.
"Give us Longbottom and nobody'll get hurt!" added Harry.
"Huh?" said Neville, his mind still not fully awake.
The rest of the Gryffindors stared in shock. Well, most of them, at any rate. Two red haired twins seemed to find the entire thing amusing.
"What are you," asked red head # 1.
"Going to do," said read head #2.
"With him?"
"Why, convince him to join the Dark Side, of course," said Hermione.
Harry shrugged, then said, "The Force is with you, young Longbottom… but you are not a Jedi-uh, Wizard yet."
"Wait," said another first year-Dean something, if Harry remembered correctly. "You two like Star Wars? You're Slytherins!"
"We know," Hermione and Harry said in unison. Then Hermione added, "Who better to emulate than Palpatine?"
"Darth Revan, is so much cooler, though," argued Harry.
"Palpatine!"
"Revan!"
"Palpatine!"
"Revan! Anyway," said Harry. "Wanna eat breakfast with us, Nev?"
"Uh, sure," said Neville, giving the rest of his classmates nervous looks.
Harry and Hermione led Neville over to the Slytherin table, introducing him to Blaise, Daphne, Theodore, and Tracey.
----
"You're sure of this?"
"Yes, Master."
"I must think on this. Now go."
The House-Elf bowed, the disappeared with a soft pop, leaving the vampire to his thoughts. The vampire was much older than he appeared. Understandable, considering that he'd died centuries before.
There were few things that the vampire had managed to successfully hide from his sire, but this was one of them. Before his death, the vampire had been a squib, the magic-less son of a witch and a wizard. All he'd inherited from his parents had been one of the family House-Elves.
That had served his purposes well enough. Once it had become apparent that he had no magic, the vampire had chosen to live out his life as a Muggle. He'd married young and had managed to produce several children before his death.
No vampire had ever learned of his family, and the vampire preferred it that way. He would do anything to protect his descendants. The vampire had instructed his House-Elf to keep an eye on and protect his children, their children, and so on from the preternatural, ensuring that unlike many other vampires, he never lost track of his descendants. His original House-Elf had died many years before. The one serving him now was one of its descendants.
The information he'd been given was both alarming and wonderful. After many generations, one of his descendants, a young girl by the name of Hermione, had enrolled in Hogwarts. And from what he understood, her younger sister Gertrude would eventually enroll as well.
But the company she kept was worrying. To share a bed with a wereleopard and a bear shapeshifter… but both boys were just that, boys. Luckily for the two boys, the House-Elf had confirmed that all three had been at least partially dressed and none had done anything inappropriate.
He reconsidered the gift he'd intended to send to Hermione. Perhaps something more appropriate for her status.
No matter how much or how little money the vampire had, he always ensured that each of his living descendants received a gift once a year. Generally a pretty trinket for the females, toys for children, and something a bit more useful for the males. It had gone on for so long that nobody in the family even questioned it anymore.
----
"I think we should restart the Marauders."
Blaise and Hermione blinked at Harry, obviously confused. The three of them were in the sitting room, trying to finish their homework.
"The what?" asked Hermione.
"The Marauders. According to Dad's journal, he and his friends called themselves the Marauders and pranked anybody who breathed," explained Harry. "Especially Snape."
All three winced slightly at the idea of Snape. Their Head of House despised Harry. The only reason he hadn't taken points off of Harry was because he didn't want to take points off his own house. He'd spent the entire potions lesson berating Harry for the smallest mistakes.
"It's not just that, is it?" said Hermione.
"They were all shapeshifters," explained Harry. "Some guy named Remus was a werewolf so Dad, and to other guys… uh Sirius and Peter became animagi so they could spend the full moon with him. Blaise and I are already shapeshifters, and you're trying to became an animagi… So… Do you wanna?"
"But pranks?"
"It's harmless, and we can use them to practice Muggle magic."
"Oh, fine," said Hermione. "Blaise?"
"Sounds amusing." Blaise paused. "Why did they need to become animagi to spend the full moons with this Remus guy?"
"Apparently he had very bad control and wanted to go human hunting whenever he was in wolf form."
"Ah."
----
Minerva watched as Miss Granger and Mr. Potter once again approached the Gryffindor table. From the sound of it, they were once again "kidnapping" Mr. Longbottom. Something that had become a daily occurrence.
She was still a bit upset that Mr. Potter had been sorted into Slytherin, but it could have been worse. At least Miss Granger was with him. And the two children seemed to have become rather close to several of the other first years. Perhaps Lily and James might not have approved of their son being a Slytherin, but they certainly would have wanted him to be happy.
As for Mr. Potter taking Miss Granger with him to see his family vault… that could be taken in so many different ways. None of which boded well for the members of various Harry Potter fan clubs.
Minerva couldn't help but blink as Severus walked into the Great Hall. He wore pink and yellow tie dyed robes. When he turned to glare at the laughing children, Minerva saw the words: Long Live the Marauders-Magical Mischief-Makers Extraordinaire, written in black cursive on the back of his robes.
She bit her lip. Severus would be furious when he read those words. But that man was also the reason why many of her Gryffindors did not take NEWT level Potions. She decided to say nothing.
For a moment she wondered how Mr. Potter had learned of the Marauders. Then she remembered that he had his father's old trunk. That boy was very lucky that nobody could prove it was him that masterminded the prank. Although Severus would likely make his life very difficult.
----
"Full moon tonight."
"I know," said Harry. "Trust me, I know."
"Do you know what you're going to do?" asked Hermione.
"Sneak out, of course," said Harry. "The passage in the bedroom lets out a couple feet from another passage that leads outside. There's this glamour in the passage outside. Makes anybody who encounters it think there are rocks blocking the way out. You can even feel the rocks. But they're not really there."
"How do you know that?" asked Blaise.
"Dad and his friends put it up. The journal even told me the password for getting through the glamour."
"Ah."
"So, I suppose I'll have to cover for you while you're out," said Hermione.
"And me too," said Blaise. "I haven't been able to transform in ages. We're heading into the forest, right?"
"Yup," said Harry. "We'll sneak back in after the moon goes down. That should leave us enough time to get three or four hours of sleep before class."
"Sounds good," agreed Blaise.
----
Hermione awoke a little after dawn when an exhausted Harry crawled into bed, dressed only in his boxers. He quickly fell asleep, an arm around her waist, his head resting on her chest. Not long after, Blaise crawled into bed as well, wearing a wife beater along with his boxers.
As the boys slept, Hermione thought about lycanthropy. Yes, Harry had told her about how most lycanthropes craved physical contact, but she'd also checked it out for herself. Lorelei had introduced Hermione to the vargamor of the local werewolf pack at her request.
The man had told her quite a bit about lycanthropes in general (although nothing that could be used to hurt either the pack or Harry), all of which matched very closely to what Harry had said. If not for that conversation, Hermione would never have believed that shifters liked to sleep in big piles or that Harry had killed before.
Oh, Harry had never told her, but Hermione wasn't stupid. Harry had done what he'd needed to do to survive without being used by others. And Hermione accepted that. Lycanthropes came from a very different society than normal humans.
Her thoughts were soon interrupted by sleep. The bed was nice and warm, after all.