"Hermione!"

The girl's dark cinnamon colored eyes opened, and she turned to where her mother was standing out in the garden. "Yes, mum?" She called back. She stood and began to make her way towards her mother, book in hand and brushing off the dust from her skirt. Hermione ran her fingers through her dark, unruly curls as she made her way to her mother.

Mrs. Potter looked her over, tutting softly. "We're leaving for King's Cross in ten minutes, love," she stated, her own hand batting away the dirt. For some reason, her daughter loved to read outside when she could read inside and therefore still be clean.

As Hermione began to make her way back into their home, Dorea Potter called out, "And make sure your brother isn't trying to stow his broom in his trunk!"

The girl turned with a playful grin. "Why in the world would he do that, mum? After all, he knows that First Years aren't supposed to bring their own brooms to school." Before her mother could say anything, Hermione slipped inside. She made her way through the living room, where her father, Charlus Potter, was sipping on his tea. "Goodmorning, daddy," she said, giving him a kiss on the cheek.

He hummed, squeezing her hand before letting her go up the stairs. The long hall had many doors, though it was obvious which room was her and Jamie's. The door had a painted-on snitch that flew over the dark colored wood. It had been a compromise when they had finally convinced mum and dad to let them decorate their room. Neither of them had wanted the pastel yellow color that the room had been painted when their parents had discovered that they were having twins. Yet, Hermione didn't want the entire room to be quidditch themed, and James didn't want the entire room to be filled with books. In the compromise, she could use his bookshelves for her own use, and he could have the painted snitch, quaffles, and bludgers darting around.

"Jamie, mum says we're leaving in a few," Hermione said as she entered their shared bedroom. There was a small sense of melancholy as she did. Their parents had agreed that they could share a room until they went off to Hogwarts. But then, Hermione would be taking the room across the hall.

Her brother, James, was her best friend. Though they had their differences - she never liked quidditch and he never had quite the same fondness for reading as she did - they were siblings. They had never been around other children much, since their parents were so much older. That, and they lived in the middle of nowhere.

"Alright, alright, just help me get this in!"

Hermione's eyes landed on where her brother was trying to successfully hide his broom inside his trunk. She could tell from the clothes - which she had helped him fold perfectly last night - that littered the floor that he had already tried to cover it with those. "Have you ever considered not bringing it? After all, that would save mum a heart attack."

The taller boy - despite it being by half an inch, he still insisted on emphasizing the fact that he was, in fact, taller - glared at her as he stopped his movements. "Shut up and help me."

With a roll of her eyes, Hermione helped him hide his broom. Once finished, he had on that charming smile once more. "Thanks, 'Mione," he said as he pulled her into a tight hug.

"James- let- l-let go!" Hermione stammered, trying to push him off. He smirked as he finally let his arms drop, watching as her lip pursed. He shut the lid of his trunk just as their father came in.

"Ready?" Charlus asked, waving his wand to shrink the two trunks. On the top of Hermione's was an elaborate H and a J in the same style was on James's. He put the shrunken trunks into his pocket, before picking up James and throwing him over his shoulder. He then did the same with Hermione, their riotous giggles filling the halls as he carried them downstairs. "IT IS I, THE GREAT AND POWERFUL CHARLUS! I'M GOING TO EAT UP THIS PRINCE AND THIS PRINCESS IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!"

"Daddy!" Hermione exclaimed as she burst into giggles.

James was kicking, a wide grin on his face. "You'll never take us alive!"

Dorea Potter stood at the bottom of the stairs, her arms crossed over her chest. But even she couldn't help but break what was supposed to be her motherly 'I'm-not-sure-if-I-approve-of-this' look.

When they finally apparated to Platform 9¾, James and Hermione had long since been put down. Dorea was fussing over them, checking for any signs of disarray. "You two better write to your father and me at least once a week, if not more. If I go a week without a letter, I'll be up at Hogwarts before you can say, 'Merlin's beard!'"

All around them, mothers were sending their children off in similar ways. Many other first years were looking at the Hogwarts Express in wonder, while older students tried to get away from their mothers so they could meet their friends on the train.

Charlus looked down on his son, squatting slightly so they were eye level. "Take care of your sister," he whispered so said girl wouldn't hear. "She's a bit too trusting of people, you know that." James nodded solemnly, knowing exactly how trusting his sister could be. It's what worried all of them. Anytime they went to Diagon Alley, she was always willing to say hi to people. She still had a lot of the wide-eyed wonder most children lost by age eleven, like James.

He then tugged on his daughter's hand, who turned to look at him with big brown eyes much like his wife's. "I want you to write me as soon as you get to visit the Hogwarts library," he stated with an encouraging smile. If there was one thing the small girl was excited about, it was learning more about her magic and the Hogwarts library. He had given her his own copy of Hogwarts: A History just last year, and he would bet that she had read it no less than four times, simply for trying to learn as much about the castle as possible.

Dorea placed a hand on both of her children's heads, her fingers gently running their the dark curls that adorned them. "Remember, no matter what House you're sorted into, we will always love you," she reassured them. It seemed as though she shot a dark look over in one direction, but when Hermione looked, all she saw were other mothers with other children.

The whistle blew, and Hermione immediately began to pull on James's hand. "Jamie, come on! We can't miss the train!" She then began to pull James towards the Hogwarts Express as he waved goodbye to their parents.

James began to look around for a compartment as Hermione began to rant. "I really hope I get placed in Ravenclaw. I know that dad was in Gryffindor and mum was in Slytherin, and that they're hoping we'll be in one of those, but I think that Ravenclaw is the best House."

"Please, Gryffindor is clearly the best," he stated as he poked his head into a compartment. He grinned as he realized there was only one boy about their age sitting down, and he immediately pulled Hermione inside with him. "Mind if we join you?"

The sandy-haired boy looked up in shock, his green eyes wide. Hermione noted the scars running through his eyebrow and also on his chin and her concern showed on her face plainly. After a few moments, he nodded with a thick swallow.

"I'm James Potter, and this is my younger sister, Hermione." The two eleven-year-olds took a seat across from him, Hermione's ankles folded delicately as her mother had taught her.

The girl's dark eyes flashed as she looked up at her brother. "You're only older by thirteen minutes!" She pouted slightly as James stuck his tongue out at her.

"It's thirteen minutes, nonetheless," he replied stubbornly. He then turned his hazel eyes to the boy. "And you are?"

"I'm Remus Lupin," he said quietly, looking up in surprise as James held out a hand for him to shake. Despite being seemingly shy, Remus's grip was firm as he shook the proffered hand.

It became quiet in the compartment, until Hermione's eyes found the rather large book that was next to the boy. "Do you like reading?" She asked softly, her eyes watching him warily. She could tell that he was rather jumpy, reading to run away at a moment's notice. It was the why that bothered her. Hermione didn't like when people were upset, and she also didn't like it when she didn't know why they were upset.

Remus nodded, a slow smile forming on his lips. "You could say that."

They all jumped slightly as the door slammed open, a tall boy strutting inside. "Hello, I'm Sirius Black." His hair was slicked back, his gray eyes calculating. He was dressed in the finest robes.

James seemed to know him as he raised his eyebrows, standing as well. "I'm James Potter."

"A Potter?" Sirius Black sneered as he eyed the boy. He was a few inches taller, maybe three, than James. Without asking for permission, he took a seat next to Remus. "I'm betting that I'll be sorted into Slytherin. It's the best House of all of them, I will have you know."

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him. "Actually Ravenclaw is."

"And who are you?" Sirius's eyes raked over her, like a butcher looked at a piece of meat.

"I'm Hermione Potter," she replied, holding out her hand for him to shake.

He didn't seem to get the concept, as he instead kissed her hand. "Pleasure," he stated, though clearly displeased as Hermione fought against wiping the back of her hand against her skirt.

James had put on a cool facade as he watched the two. Despite the look of distaste on his sister's face, he knew that she was too kind, too sweet to not give him a chance. It was exactly why James had to be on his guard. "Despite what my sister says, Gryffindor is the best of all."

Hermione refrained from answering. Instead, she chose to curl up beside the window with one of her books. Remus joined in on the conversation soon enough, starting with small comments. When the trolley came around, Hermione stood up and left, deciding to make a visit to the bathroom.

She was on her way back when she bumped into a taller body.

"Watch where you're going," a smooth voice warned, a slight chuckle following.

Hermione looked up with bright eyes, to see a boy with platinum blonde hair towering over her. He had piercing silver eyes and his lips were curled up in a smirk. "I apologize," she said quietly with a nod of her head.

The boy raised an eyebrow. "Lucius Malfoy, third year, love," he said as he took her hand and pressed a kiss to the back.

Unlike when Sirius had kissed her hand, Hermione didn't feel the need to wipe it off. "Hermione Potter, first year," she replied, her cheeks going a bit pink when he called her love.

Lucius nodded, a welcoming smile on his lips. "I thought that you might be a first year. I'm sure I would've remembered someone as small as a kitten."

Hermione indignantly crossed her arms over her chest. "I am not as small as a kitten, I will have you know."

The boy laughed, and she found that she liked the sound. "Of course. Let me know if you ever need anything, kitten."

Before Hermione could respond, he had gone. She found her way back to the compartment where her brother and the two boys plus one she didn't know were still talking.

"Hermione, this is Peter Pettigrew," James said with a grin as his sister dropped onto the seat next to him once more.

She nodded once at him, taking the sight of him in. He was as short as her, with dirty blonde hair. His nose was slightly upturned, his face pudgy like the rest of his body. "Pleasure," she stated clearly, before turning back to the window.