Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or other works that may be familiar in the story. I only own the idea and the words that go into making the story.

What will you do when a whole class of people are bent on discriminating others based on blood and ancestry? You need a crusade to bring back balance.

Harry Potter is smarter than canon. His upbringing at his aunt and uncle's made him aware of the world and its injustices and so his first instinct is to question what he sees. Harry does not attend Hogwarts, instead he is a part of Her Majesty's secret service. With the help of his cousin and other muggle-born and half-bloods who have left the wizarding world, Harry crusades for a more tolerant wizarding world while bringing down Lord Voldemort and his death eaters. For a better world to take shape, the old world has to be torn down. More unforgiving Harry. Hopefully different from all the other Harry and muggle world fics.

Crusade

Chapter 1

The young woman who called herself Stella Smith was cursing herself. Dressed in black dragon hide body hugging outfit from neck to ankles, feet snug in black shoes of the same hide, her features were hidden underneath a mask that covered her eyes, nose and most of her cheeks leaving space for the mouth and chin and finally slits for seeing and breathing. Her trademark unruly bushy brown hair was charmed into behaving and was fit into a tight bun.

However superhero like she might have felt, she was coming to regret her decision to be one this night. 'I mean I am one person against the whole system!' she groused silently.

The reason for her introspection was that she was completely pinned behind a low wall that cut her off from the alley that led into the Ministry of Magic. Her mission tonight was simple; all she had to do was to infiltrate the department of Archives, which was not even guarded, retrieve the list of muggleborns that were in Britain and get out without a soul knowing. It was an easy task she set for herself or so she thought, but for her misfortune; she did not account for an attack on the ministry building by a few death eaters and the odd werewolf at the same time.

The death eaters were not much of a problem they were just cannon fodder after all; she could handle the four of them easily. All she had to do was to keep firing incapacitating hexes at them and they would duck behind the nearest cover. Though they may not be injured, their fear of getting injured was enough to give her the time to escape. The death eaters were not used to their opponents firing back and without a high level 'inner circle' member to strategize, they were not so effective.

Even though they were untransformed, the two werewolves however, were a different matter altogether. They did not fear the cutting and blasting hexes as their brute strength would help them manage the pain the hexes would inflict. Werewolves were known to have greater than normal regenerative capacity and so the body would repair itself rendering it a minor discomfort and nothing more.

If Stella had to do any significant damage, she had to fire the much more potent bone breaking hexes at them and that was draining on her magical core. Stella also found herself within the anti-apparition wards of the Ministry building and even though she was underaged, but still capable of appartition, she could not flee from the current danger. Stella cursed herself again for not learning the portkey charm, and for the first time she cursed her beloved books; they did not tell her about the danger and the near helplessness she was felling when faced with overwhelming odds. She intellectually knew that she should not panic, but knowing it on one level and putting it into practice are two different things.

Her upbringing was such that Stella could not let injustice go by without any attempt to correct it and her life at Hogwarts showed that she was classed as a second class citizen in the magical world. She ahd to do something.

It all started with that thrice damned letter from Harry Potter that appeared in the Quibbler in November, a few months ago.

…..

The Letter

You might wonder what happened to me after the Halloween night that left me an orphan, why was I never seen or heard from again and you would be surprised to know that I never knew about the world of magic or that I was a wizard. This world was revealed to me by Rubeus Hagrid the game keeper of Hogwarts when he came to deliver my letter to attend the school. Why was that, you may ask. It was because I was left on the door step of my muggle aunt on a cold November night with just a note explaining to them that my parents were murdered and it was left to them to take care of me. In a sense, no one told them the reason why I was going to be a burden to them.

I do not know who was callous enough to leave a toddler alone like that for the night but I am thankful to them. You see, Hagrid told me about the legacy of the 'Boy-Who-Lived' and how I was the one who rendered Lord Voldemort without a body; yes, apparently Albus Dumbledore the headmaster of Hogwarts believes that Voldemort is not dead. He is apparently plotting ways to return and to cause devastation again, but more importantly, take care of me permanently.

So I ask you, if I was the target of a power hungry dark lord, why did I grow up without any knowledge of that and without any means to escape if not defended from an attack?

I am therefore, thankful to my relatives for teaching me the most important thing of all; self-preservation. Why would I enter a world that has my bodily harm written on it, if the men in power could turn a blind eye to the plight of a child in a magic hating house? To top it off, my name comes out a magical artifact under the watchful eye of a retired master auror, a headmaster touted to be the most powerful wizard alive, and a full contingent of Hogwarts professors. Then to top it all the Ministry representative says that I have to compete or lose my magic, even though I was and I am miles away from the castle!

I would say "Good Riddance!" if the 'Goblet of Fire' strips me off my magic, though now that the first task is over and I still retain my magic, the chance of that happening seems to be pretty low. I chose to live a life away from the magical world and I would hardly be inconvenienced by it; and if I am to lose my life due to something that was in no way my own, then so be it. I would at last be in the company of someone who loved me for who I am, my long dead parents, for they are the only ones in whom I have left of a family in this world or the next.

It's not me, who did not know about magic for eleven years and who chose a life away from the wizarding world, that has to take care of your problems. It does not take a genius to work out that it is the solemn duty of those that live in that world to set their house in order. I recommend that you do it before Voldemort rises again, for then there will be no hope for you all.

Oh! And please do not bother the editor of this newspaper for my whereabouts because he does not know.

-Harry James Potter

End Letter

That letter raised a huge hue and cry, but the real shocker was when the much touted Triwizard tournament came to an inglorious end when Barty Crouch Jr., a death eater who was supposed to have died inside Azkaban, was found to be the one who put Harry Potter's name in the Goblet of Fire. He was able to do that right under the headmaster's nose by disguising as a 'Mad-Eye' Moody, a master auror and a close personal friend of Dumbledore. Since the last Potter did not take part in the tournament, the magic of the goblet recognized the one who actually put his name in as the defaulter and collected the dues.

Barty Crouch Jr lost his life in front of a capacity crowd that was eagerly waiting for the long lost 'Boy-Who-Lived' to take his rightful place in the wizarding world but instead were mute testament to the reality of death eaters and Lord Voldemort. Stella had to suppress a snort at the image of three students fighting dragons as part of their task, 'Seriously! What is wrong with this world? Even bull fighters do not face such threats, and talk about animal cruelty…' she trailed off realizing that her predicament was such that she could not spend time reminiscing. Stella was reminded of the danger when she had to duck away from another curse.

The students were sent home for Christmas so that the security around the castle could be increased but unfortunately nothing was done to change the apathy that covered the wizarding world. No one lifted a finger to launch an investigation into how a man supposed to have died in prison was alive and why did he put Harry Potter's name in the goblet. Apparently, the minister of magic used dictatorial powers to roughshod the law enforcement department into silence.

Then there was the problem of Sirius Black who caught another death eater, Peter Pettigrew. Pettigrew was also thought to have been dead at the hands of Black all those years ago. Even with the victim of the murder alive, Black did not get the justice he richly deserved, instead, the minister of magic ordered both Pettigrew and Black to be killed without due trial. Highlighting the ministry's incompetence, both of them escaped from confinement! The minister turned out to be a bare faced liar and after the so called sentencing of Black, became an attempted murderer and he was still allowed to continue his reign at the helm of affairs in the wizarding world.

With Harry Potter's accusations ringing in her mind, Stella Smith was determined to make a difference in her world. This decision was given an urgency after learning that the new professor being appointed for Defense Against the Dark Arts was actually a Ministry employee with the sole intention of curbing the headmaster's power and also to subjugate those who dared to raise their voices against the ministry, namely the muggleborns and half-bloods.

Now cowering behind the modest safety offered by the broken wall, Stella was not so sure as to the chance of continuing her own life. The idea, to get the names and addresses of all muggleborns, was a sound one and the plan was well thought out but the death eater attack happening at the same time could not be foreseen nor did she plan for one.

Stella's strength finally gave out and she spied a werewolf darting out and began his sprint for the final kill. 'Goodbye Mum, Dad!' Stella murmured in her mind, 'I am sorry Harry Potter. I could not help the people who needed my help,' she thought resigning herself for the inevitable.

Her eyes widened in surprise when the lunging werewolf suddenly stumbled and fell heavily onto the road, a few arrows sticking out his back right through the backbone. Another arrow embedded itself in his neck right at that moment killing the werewolf.

'Probably made of silver' Stella mused, thanking her stars and furtively trying to find the person responsible for downing the werewolf and in turn saving her life.

The other werewolf which was more aware of the dangers or was more of a coward and was still cowering behind the edge of a nearby building was also brought down in a similar fashion in as many seconds. The four death eaters turned to confront the newest threat but found how painful death can be with arrows piercing their hearts. For a change they were the ones on the receiving end rather than inflicting death upon the others.

The lull in activities that followed the downing of the death eaters allowed Stella to slowly get out from behind her cover while wondering if she was alone, but then she saw movement at the edge of the circle of light.

A muscular young man probably five feet and ten inches, and clad totally in black dragon hide was walking towards the fallen opponents and began wandlessly summoning the arrows back to him. In his hand was a crossbow but with a strange cylinder sticking underneath it. What Stella could not know was that the cylinder had a supply of arrows, either normal or silver depending on the need, and had a never ending rune written on it to keep it supplied with the needed arrows.

Stella was stunned at the casual display of such advanced magic and even in her disbelief she was able to see that four of the arrows used to fell the werewolves were indeed silver tipped.

Stella was suddenly infatuated by the man's bearing; he was a powerful presence and the similarity in their choice of wardrobe was not lost upon her. He was outfitted similar to the fantasy character 'Zorro' with a wide brimmed black felt hat and a cloak with a mask that covered his forehead and nose with slits for eyes, the only difference in attire was that this man's bodysuit hugged his well-defined muscular body. He also had a cloak tied at his neck and hanging off his back just like the fictional hero had, except that this one was silver in colour and almost looked as if it was flowing like water.

Sure that it was safe to venture out, Stella moved to thank her savior and was met by an equally bemused young man obviously realizing the likeness of their attire. She was gratified by a sharp intake of breath from the young man and the gaze that roved all over her taking in her curves that were on display. The moment their eyes met though, it was almost as if time stood still.

The two apparent strangers stared at each other, thoughts racing through their minds. "I thought you needed help…" the man regained his wits and addressed her with a clearly recognizable discomposure in his voice.

Judging by the timbre of his voice and now in the lamp light, Stella was able to see that the man was no older than her nearly sixteen years of age, yet he looked so poised and confident, except when talking to her that is.

Stella grasped at the offered straw to cover her own flustered state, "I was exhausted and was ready to give up the fight and face the consequences. Thank you for saving my life" she replied. Stella was sure that she did not see the man before, but why does he look familiar?

Hearing her voice, the young man stiffened suddenly. Now that he was closer, there was no mistaking it, "Hermione?" he asked incredulously.

The newly identified Hermione's eyes bulged. The voice was so clear and it was a little different from what the young man used a few moments ago. This was a voice she could identify, "Stan?" she countered, equally surprised. Even with the mask on, the way the young man moved and the tone of his voice was so clear to Hermione, how could it not be when she dreamed about that man often, sometimes even in her waking hours.

"I…" Stan started but stopped as suddenly when Hermione started to say something at that same time. "You…"

Both of them were a little flustered. With the adrenaline of the fight and with the sight of each other in that place affecting them equally.

Stan began to fidget under Hermione's scrutiny, "It's not safe to hang around here" he reminded her suddenly. Now that the fight was over, they were sure to be found out; funny how Law Enforcement almost always seems to come after the danger had passed.

Hermione agreed immediately, "Yes, but I do not think that I even have the energy to apparate."

If he was surprised at her admission of performing underage magic or unlicensed apparition, Stan did not say anything. He merely extended his hand to her and they walked beyond the wards of the Ministry building together from where he apparated them both to a very familiar landmark, Hyde Park in Central London.

"Do you want me to call a cab?" Stan asked. He did not know where she lived, the one time Stan met Hermione was at a dance. He only got a vague idea of a fairly upscale house in Crawley during their very extensive talk.

"Not in this gear, no" She replied. Hermione did not even care to pack a change of clothing as she was sure that she would be in and out without a hitch. Now she was trapped wearing a body hugging suit of dragonhide which was resistant to transfiguration. She could have, and should have packed a change of clothing, Hermione lamented.

The young man agreed with a nod of his head. There was only one way to do it and it involved a lot of trust, "Can you trust me enough to let me peek into your mind?"

Contrary to popular belief, blind apparition or apparition by coordinates is not possible. You have to visualize your target and there was no way for someone to visualize coordinates. Powerful magicals, or those with extreme control over their emotions and thoughts can apparate to a person and that too if they were familiar with the other's magic, but that was all. Dumbledore could do it, Stan could do it, but that was not going to help him now.

Hermione was worried hearing that. I was not that she did not trust Stan, oh, she trusted him alright. More so because Hermione actually had a crush on Stanley Smith and it was this knowledge of the crush that was worrying her. She did not trust her power to keep Stan out of her mind, if Stan did not have impeccable control, she would unknowingly allow him to see her deepest secrets. On the other hand, they could simply wait until she regained some of her magic and she could apparate home. However, it was approaching midnight and even though it was summer, it was not a good idea to stay long in the open air. Besides, her parents would be frantic.

That decision made, Hermione allowed herself to relax and met Stan's eyes.

Hermione felt only a brief intrusion into her mind before Stan withdrew, "Stella Smith?" he asked with a full blown smirk.

Hermione blushed furiously and why not, she modelled her name after the man who caused quite a stir in her heart and being found out by the same man in such circumstances? She refused to back down though, she was not afraid of her feelings. It may have been a simple crush, but the depth of her feelings surprised Hermione, she actually suspected that it could grow more than a simple crush if she knew Stan a little longer.

"What can I say?" Hermione simply shrugged her shoulders trying to get her blush under control.

"Mr and Mrs Smith, does have a nice ring to it," Stan muttered.

Hermione glanced sharply at her companion and the blush erupted back on her face. Stan saw that reaction and clapped a hand over his mouth, "I said that aloud didn't I?" he whispered wide eyed.

Hermione refused to meet his eye but Stan knew that she was not angry, not with the corners of her mouth threatening to break out into a smile or the bashful look on her face. Finally, after what could only be construed as an uncomfortable silence, Hermione mustered the courage to look Stan in the eye and reply, "That is still a long time away isn't it?"

Stan released a sigh of relief at that. He accepted Hermione's words both as a chance for the future and as a way for him to extricate himself from the situation he put himself in, "Yes it is."

Breathing in deeply, Stan and Hermione tried to focus back on the task at hand. With a determined nod of her head, Hermione was ready and allowed Stan to take a peek into her mind again. This time the image was of the backyard of Hermione's house.

Stan withdrew and assimilated the view and got ready to apparate to the destination that was fixed in his mind now. Hermione nodded her head in agreement and tightened her grip on Stan's forearm which was the signal for him to set off with barely a 'pop'.

Now, how did Hermione Granger meet Stanley Smith?

…..

Back Story

Hermione was unsure how to feel about being sent home for Christmas during her fourth year. On one hand, she was happy to celebrate Christmas with her parents just as she did every year but on the other hand, she was sad that she missed a chance to attend the Yule Ball. The ball was a part of the Triwizard tournament which brought two other schools to Hogwarts in a test of magical prowess and also international cooperation and friendship. Hermione was hoping that at least one wizard from the visiting schools would find her pretty enough to take her to the ball.

For you see, Hermione had the firm belief that she was not pretty and was sought out by people only for the help she could give in their academics. The belief was ingrained in her right from primary school and was further confirmed during her stay at Hogwarts, making her truly a wallflower. She had hoped that it will change with the ball but that was not to be.

The death of a death eater who was masquerading as a professor and further, the escape of a convict and another suspect right from under the nose of the Minister of Magic and his auror guard created a furor. Moreover, the two escapees were not seen any time outside the castle or on the grounds. That forced the Ministry and a reluctant Dumbledore to not only cancel the tournament but also close the school for a thorough search to ensure that the two men were really out of the school.

It meant that all the students had to go home for Christmas. For one witch particularly that also meant that she lost her chance to find a wizard who could appreciate her, or so thought Hermione. In a way she was resigned to not find a boyfriend in the magical world, the bias against muggleborn was still existing even though most of the time it was subdued.

Hermione's parents were well known for their excellent care of patients in their dental clinic. They were not catering to the affluent or to those that belong to the celebrity status. They did have a good number of patients who had a great influence in shaping the society they were living in, they were the pencil pushers and the thinkers behind the news makers. With Hermione at an age where she could start to think about a boyfriend, her parents were all for helping her.

"We have an invite to a party on boxing day," Mrs. Granger asked her daughter, "Do you want to attend Hermione?"

The said witch was puzzled. She knew that her parents liked to socialize but never tried to include her and never during Christmas time as she was usually present and Christmas was a time for family. "You never attended any parties during this time and definitely not with me. Why the sudden change mum?"

The elder Grangers exchanged weary looks. Mr. Granger answered his daughter, "Let us be honest for a minute here Hermione…" he trailed off hoping that his daughter would acknowledge his request and at the same time not get mad.

Hermione did indeed was wary. She never expected this but she gave her acceptance to her parents' request.

Daniel Granger gave a subtle relieved sigh, "We know that you are not happy at Hogwarts."

Hermione tried to hide her feelings but her disappointment was not hard to miss by the two dentists. Emma Granger came to sit beside her daughter and gathered her into a loose hug while Mr. Granger continued, "We also know that it's not your fault. We are just trying to see if you can make some friends away from that world. I have no idea what your plans are after finishing school, but I would be surprised if you were to continue in the magical world."

Hermione dried her tears and gave her mum an extra tight squeeze before letting her go. She breathed out loudly to relieve the tension. "You are right dad; I do have some classmates but not friends. The girls there are intimidated by my intelligence and the boys are so immature I get the feeling that we are still in kindergarten sometimes."

She exchanged a wry smile with her dad but that small act brought some levity to the evening and relieved some of the tension that the parents felt.

Hermione had a thoughtful look as she continued, "I have given it a lot of thought lately about staying on in the magical world."

Dan and Emma exchanged worried glances. They thought that they would be the ones to put the idea in Hermione's mind and urge her to think on it, but it seemed that their daughter was already done thinking. They just hoped that it would not be a heartbreak for their lonely daughter. Her loneliness was also the reason the Grangers tried to push her towards attending their party. They held the opinion that their daughter was mature enough and would find and experience her love life all by herself but it was evident that she felt there was nothing for her in the magical world.

"Taking the O.W.L examinations is like a rite of passage. People can drop out of school once they have at least 5 O. and that is what I want to do," Hermione told her parents. She was apprehensive about what her parents would say.

Emma Granger drew her daughter into another hug understanding the enormity of the decision. Her daughter was so excited to know that she was a witch and hoped to understand and excel in the new world and to have those dreams come crashing around you was a difficult thing to digest.

While his wife offered her silent support to their daughter, Dan wanted to be sure of a few things, "So once you get your O. you will not be obliviated?"

Hermione just nodded her head.

"… and you can go wherever you want?"

Again another nod of agreement.

"Where do you want to go?" Emma asked this time.

"I…" Hermione exhaled loudly, "I honestly do not know. I thought I will get back into the muggle world and maybe study at home, pass the required exams and get into either a law school or into a teaching profession. I did not think that far…"

Emma patted her daughter's back, "It's not a problem honey. There is still time, you can even look for places that are more tolerant to muggleborns and continue in the wizarding world."

Hermione got the look of intense concentration on her face. Dan knew that it would be difficult to pry her out of the thinking phase if she really got down to business. They had important things to discuss right now, like the party they were to attend in a few days.

"So about the party," he prompted.

"Do you have someone in mind?" Hermione asked a little suspiciously, narrowing her eyes to peer at her parents. They were like bloodhounds going after a scent.

Emma's eyes lit up like a Christmas tree, "There is this young man, very handsome." Emma practically squealed in delight; if Dan was even a little unsure of the love his wife had for him, he would be worried. He only looked with an exasperated smile at his wife and then turned to his daughter and rolled his eyes overly dramatic.

Thankfully for Dan, his wife was still sitting beside Hermione and so only had to face her glare instead of an arm swat or a hit on the back of his head. Emma then completely ignored her husband and began again, "He is a little shy and does not make friends that easily, but once you get to know him he sticks with you. He apparently reads a lot and is very intelligent, he probably can even rival you in that department Hermione."

Hermione rolled her eyes, it was almost as if her sensible parents have been replace with one with far less sense.

Emma ignored her daughter's antics, "He was really intrigued by your tendency to have books as friends…"

"We of course did not tell him about you being a witch," her father took up the conversation, "… but he thought that he might have found a kindred spirit in you. Apparently he also cannot make friends that easily and so tends to be loner."

After looking at her face a few moment and not finding what he wanted, Dan pleaded earnestly, "Please give this a chance Hermione."

Hermione was surprised and it showed on her face. Normally a father would try to scare away any potential boyfriends but her father was trying to integrate a boy into her life! If her parents were really that anxious for her to meet a potential boyfriend then he was either really good or her parents were hurting for her.

That thought brought tears to her eyes. She never saw this from her parents' side. Hermione handled things by her own and it was probably fine where even if things go bad, her parents can interfere. But she was in a place which was as inaccessible to them as if it was on another planet itself. Hermione placated her father and mother that she would indeed attend the party and meet this paragon who captured both of their hearts.

That night, Hermione had trouble sleeping. She honestly was surprised by the intensity of emotions in her parents over this young man. No, Hermione realized that it was less about the boy and more about her being friendless. She was now at an age when she should have more than one good friend who she could rely on, but Hermione relied only on herself, not even her parents. That was the crux of the problem she realized. Her parents were genuinely afraid for her. They were probably thinking about a life after school in the magical world.

Hermione could not understand why her parents were so hung up on her not having friends. She was only fifteen and there was a lot of time still. Maybe they were seeing her performance as her inability to find someone to spend her life with. If that was the case, then so be it. Not that she was going to say it loud to her parents.

Thinking about the guy that her parents were so keen on her meeting him, he was probably a classic nerd with weird looking glasses and incessant need to talk.

As soon as the thought came to her mind, Hermione chastised herself. The students at Hogwarts and her primary school probably looked at her the same way. Yes, she did have weird hair and a need to blurt out facts, but she was trying to curb her need to show herself as knowledgeable. She would not try to cast this mysterious stranger in the stereotype.

She will go to this party and meet this guy. Maybe it was time to try some of the makeup tips her mother had been trying to teach her. If he was really someone to know, then she would make the effort to get to know him, if not, she would try and have some fun for the night.

And what fun it was…

Stanley Smith was nowhere close to what she had expected, he was better. He turned out to be the one man who would be a perfect fit for her. Yes, he was a bit shy but once they got to talk, the night was spent in a whirlwind of getting to know each other.

The young man before her looked her age or maybe just a year older than her, she could not come out and ask his age now, could she? He was an imposing 5 feet 10 inches with what could be called as an athletic figure, broad shouldered and narrow at the hips. He might pack a punch if he really threw a punch. Hermione was not one to drool over the figure of men but she had to restrain herself from doing so after meeting Stan.

What made Hermione's heart race though were the intense and utterly gorgeous emerald green eyes that seemed to draw her in and look into her very soul. Added to that the messy black hair and the lopsided grin Stan threw her way made her blush like never before. Hermione wondered how this man stayed single so far, any girl with decent looks would have caught him by now. Slowly her confidence began to return, maybe Stan was not interested in an airhead, and maybe he wanted someone with a modicum of intelligence.

When taking to him, Hermione had to refrain from trying to run her hands through his messy hair and feel its texture. Stan had a presence that was screaming at Hermione to snog the daylights out of him. It was a novel experience for the witch who never considered herself desirable or considered herself a romantic. Hermione controlled herself with great difficulty. She convinced her hormones that she would get to know him first and then if everything went well would snog the daylights out of him later.

Talking to him, Hermione learnt that Stan enjoyed reading whatever he could get his hands on but more than that, he enjoyed writing political commentary. He already had an outlet for his voracious reading.

For the first time, Hermione felt inadequate. She too read whatever she could get her hands on, but it was for her own improvement and enjoyment rather than any specific task in mind. She now understood what her parents have been trying to teach her. There was simply no meaning in gathering knowledge for knowledge sake, there has to be a reason for gathering such knowledge.

Hermione only recently decided that she was going to leave Hogwarts at the end of her fifth year but she did not know what she was going to do after that. Taking to Stan told her that the plans need not be concrete, but there should be a direction for her thoughts. The natural progression for Stan was to get into politics, not as a politician directly but as a law maker or helping in governance. He was quite sure where he was going to end up in about 10 years from now on barring any unforeseen circumstances.

It was time for Hermione to change her own line of thinking. It was time to take charge of her life. She was going to take Stanley Smith as her inspiration. It also helped that she was seriously infatuated with him.

Meanwhile, Stan was also in a similar state of mind. He was not ready to part company with Hermione Granger; there was something in this girl that was attracting him and not only that, his magic somehow seemed to respond to her presence. Oh! It was nothing like a soul tingling sensation or anything more like in fairy tales, it was like a subtle presence that gave him comfort. It was then that Stan understood that Hermione was a witch, but he could not come right out and say it.

Not only was he not attending Hogwarts as every witch and wizard was mandated to by the current laws, but he was under the official secrecy act. Moreover, he did not truly know Hermione Granger and so was unwilling to open up about his life to her, but at the same time he wanted to, his magic was pushing him to. Though he was willing to talk to her and get to know her, he did not have a valid reason to detain her longer.

Taking matters into his hands, Stanley decided that he would correspond with Hermione through her parents. They would surely have a way to send letters to her and maybe they would agree to include some of his.

…..

All of this flashed through Hermione and Stan's minds during the short time it took for them to land in Hermione's backyard.

A/N: Recently I came across a story by offsides titled 'Long live the queen'. It is along the similar lines of Harry taking the help of the queen and the muggle world to get one over the British wizarding world. I liked the story. Once I felt that the story may influence my own idea, I stopped reading it. If there are any similarities with that story in this one, please excuse me. I can only say that similarities are totally incidental. Apologies in advance if my story has any similarities with any other story out there. -HH