Disclaimer: Do not own Harry Potter

Summary: What might have happened if things had just been a little…different. Soulmate marks exist in this. FleuxHermionexBellatrix. Dark Hermione. Oh, and Hermione has Voldemort's twin wand, not Harry-and I'm going to change the wand that Voldemort has to having dragon heartstrings. And soulmate marks exist. Hermione, Fleur and Bellatrix's shared mark, is a dark blue dragon with its wings spread. Also, Daphne and Astoria Greengrass are fraternal twins in this.

Additional note: The next few chapters will probably be inspired by the second and third chapters of AlexRyzlinGold's "A Beauty by Any Other Name,"

Hermione's backstory will be delved into later.

The serpent's mates

Chapter One

Hermione Granger sorted

To say that Hermione Granger, age eleven and a half's endeavor in gaining her wand had been memorable, would be putting it very lightly.

Hermione lived in a world where soulmate marks existed. And she had no idea who her soulmate was, as she had never seen a matching soulmate mark on anyone before. On her right shoulder, a few inches above her chest, was the soulmate mark of a dark blue dragon with its wings opened up. Now to ask someone if they had that same mark on them, would be rather intrusive, wouldn't it? She couldn't ask if someone had that mark, could she? Not in that part of the body.

And with the life she had led? Hermione knew that she should expect weird stuff.

But still?

The strange man with floppy, silver hair and timid eyes, Mr. Ollivander, had given her multiple wands to try with, to see which wand would be her permanent wand. From a birch wand with unicorn hair, to a holly wand with a phoenix feather inside. But finally, she had gotten a wand, made from redwood, with dragon heartstrings.

The reaction from Ollivander had been…troubling, to say the least.

He had told her something she would always remember. That the dragon the dragon heartstrings had come from, had had only two dragon heartstrings taken from it. And the dragon in question? Was a very rare type of dragon, called a 'Obsidian's Flame Dragon.'

A dragon that was considered so powerful that it was hunted to near extinction.

After Hermione had gasped at how barbaric that was, Ollivander had then said something that had stopped her heart almost.

He had said that it was curious that she got the sibling of the wand that he had sold previously, to a wizard who had abhorred muggle-borns. And was the most famous dark wizard of all.

Hermione had felt cold when she had heard that. She knew who Ollivander had been talking about.

Who wouldn't know who he had been talking about?

Ollivander had then said, "I think it is clear, we can expect great things from you, Ms. Granger. After all, 'he who shall not be named' did great things, as well. Terrible, yes, but great."

Hermione had felt her blood run cold, hearing that.

She had read every book she could get her hands on, when it came to magic, after learning where her abilities came from. And so, yes, she knew who Ollivander had been talking about.


Hermione had left the shop soon afterwards, feeling cold, when she eventually gotten her familiar, Crookshanks.

She had hugged her mother goodbye and eventually went through the portal that led to the train station that would take her to Hogwarts.

She tried to put it all in the back of her mind, during the trip on the train. She had the same wand that Voldemort had. But what did that mean?

Again, she tried not to think too hard about it. And when a young, sheepish boy named Neville Longbottom had announced he was looking for his pet toad, Trevor, she thankfully had a distraction.

The train trip and the boat trip had been calming and oddly uneventful. Oddly uneventful for a trip with multiple witches and wizards. She had repaired the glasses of that boy, Harry Potter, "the Boy who Lived." She had read up all about him, about how he had somehow stopped "Voldemort." She knew better than to buy into all the fame of him. Somehow a baby had stopped Voldemort, and yet, he didn't even know how to repair his own glasses? Either he was very good at hiding that he was a powerful wizard, or he was utterly clueless.

So, Hermione saw no reason to do anything to do with him, or with his red-haired friend, Weasley, unless she gained something from it.

When she and all the other children reached Hogwarts, they went into the castle and went up the stairs, she took in all of the designing. Big, vast stone hallways, archways and bronze statues.

Sprawling staircases.

They reached the top of the stairs, finding an elderly woman standing there, straight and tall and proud, despite her age, with a stereotypical witch's getup.

The woman gave her introduction to all of the houses, and Hermione frowned at the distaste in the woman's voice when she said, "And Slytherin." Hermione didn't understand the disgust for the Slytherin house.

Sure, people who ended up in that house usually ended up turning bad. And yes, the founder had been bigoted against muggle-borns and half-bloods, but just because it had a bad reputation, didn't mean that it should be treated like a house full of pariahs.

She had read up on all the houses. Gryffindor was full of people that thought they were better than everyone else-not that different from Slytherin. Hufflepuff was full of loyal sweeties and Ravenclaw was full of actual lazy, but brilliant people.

Hermione had analyzed every single house, coldly, clinically and obsessively. She had finally made her choice when she had heard that distasteful remark from the woman at the top of the stairs.

Alright, since she was a muggle-born and she had figured out how muggle-borns and half-bloods were treated in this society, and since she had a hard time making friends anyway? Might as well go all the way in.

She was going to see if she could get put into Slytherin.

As she and the rest of the children walked through the hall, between the four tables-flanked on both sides by multiple students.

Hermione looked up at the fake sky that was made. Unable to help herself, she told the girl next to her, a girl with black hair, that she knew that the sky in the ceiling of Hogwarts was fake because she had read "Hogwarts: a History."

They reached the steps leading up to where the teachers and headmaster were all seated, and the woman who had described the houses to Hermione and the others showed them the sorting hat and began reading names off the scroll.

Hermione tried to ignore the tightness in her chest as the woman read the names off the scroll.

This was a new chance. She might actually be able to make friends this time. There were so many kids back in the muggle world who had disliked her, and had happily ignored her, not interested in her "nerdiness."

She knew that House Slytherin wouldn't like that she was muggle-born, but she'd persevere, make them respect her.

The people that had raised her for the first five years of her life had made sure that she had had a taste of what being a pariah was, before her mother had adopted her.

So, she wouldn't put up with that.

Eventually, the woman called Hermione's name and Hermione went up the steps to the stool, getting up on it and feeling the sorting hat drop onto her head.

She pushed the thought to the front of her mind. Slytherin. Slytherin. Slytherin.

The sorting house said to her, "I see…," the hat said, "If you're sure, then…Slytherin!"

Hermione smiled and Slytherin cheered as the woman pulled the hat off her head and Hermione noticed the distrustful look on the woman's face as Hermione exited and headed for the Slytherin table.

She sat down next to an older girl who smiled at her and shook her hand. The girl quickly introduced herself as Daphne Greengrass.

Hermione smiled at her and turned to watch the rest of the sorting. That pompous boy, who had had a tiff with Harry Potter and Ron Weasley on the train, as Hermione had seen, had unfortunately been sorted into House Slytherin. Though that wasn't really a surprise. He was Draco Malfoy. And the Malfoys had been in the Slytherin house for centuries.

Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor, as was Ron Weasley-again, not a surprise, all the Weasleys seemed to have ended up in Gryffindor and Potter's parents had been in Gryffindor too.

After everyone was sorted, Dumbledore announced the feast and platters and platters full of food popped up onto the table before all the students.

Hermione happily grabbed whatever she could-Yorkshire pudding, chicken legs, lamb chops and black pudding onto her plate.

The food here seemed nothing like the food that had been in that facility that she had lived in for five years of her life before her mother had taken her in.

It had been so cut and clean and in small portions.

Daphne asked Hermione where it was she was from. Hermione smiled at her, and had readied herself for the shitstorm that would come with the truth when she started talking.

"I'm from London," she said, smiling, "I don't know who my biological parents are, but I was adopted by a muggle woman. And I'm pretty sure I'm muggle-born."

Daphne's eyes widened. Her mouth opened into an "O" shape, but she said nothing.

Across from Hermione, one girl, whom Hermione had learned was name Pansy Parkinson, announced, "A muggle-born? Oh, that's just perfect." She snorted, "How did YOU end up in Slytherin?"

Hermione looked to her and smirked, "Good question, I don't know. Oh, well, I guess the sorting hat got some indigestion and had vomited the first word out."

Pansy blanched and Hermione fought a snort. All else failed, as she had learned over the years repulse people, so that they pissed off.

The group of Purebloods eyeing Hermione, went back to small talk, confused as to what Hermione was doing in their house.

Eventually they were all brought to their dorms, in the dungeons of Hogwarts.

In Hermione's dorm, there Astoria Greengrass, Daphne's twin sister-though younger, if Daphne asked, as Daphne kept teasing Astoria that she was ten minutes older than Astoria and so Astoria should listen to her, Pansy Parkinson, Millicent Bulstrode, Ivy Avery, Catherine Fawley, and so on.

Hermione sat up almost all night, too excited to go to sleep, with her darling Crookshanks on her lap, petting him, looking up at the various decorations around the room.

As she looked around, she heard footsteps coming over to the wingback, Edwardian chair. Hermione turned to look at where the footsteps were coming.

She smiled when she saw Astoria Greengrass.

"Hey," she said, "What are you doing up?"

Astoria said, light brown eyebrows lifting up, "I might ask you the same thing."

Hermione shrugged, "I'm just so not used to all this. This magical world," her smile widened, "it's wonderful."

Astoria chuckled. "I'm sorry to say this," she said, "But we Slytherins aren't very warm to muggle-borns and muggles."

Hermione nodded, "So I've read," she admitted, "Still, I'm glad to be at this school, regardless of which house I'm in."

Astoria shrugged, "Well, glad to hear," she said, "Because you're going to have to deal with a lot from the others. Be careful of Malfoy. His family is big on blood purity. He won't like finding out that you're muggle-born, if he doesn't know already."

Hermione chuckled, "Great."

Astoria said goodnight and she went off to bed. Eventually, Hermione went to bed as well, Crookshanks curling up on the right side of Hermione's legs as she slept.

The next day, Hermione went off to class, on time, noticing that there was a black and gray striped cat on the desk, and multiple papers all along each desk, with the description of the class's first assignment for the school year.

Hermione frowned as she and the other students sat behind their respective desks and dropped down, grabbing their quills. She had a theory, but she wasn't going to say it.

She had read all about animaguses. Those that could transform into an animal.

She had no idea if the woman who was supposed to be teaching this class, Minerva McGonagall, and the same woman who had helped with the sorting yesterday, was an animagus, but if she was? That cat on the front desk, probably wasn't actually a cat.

Hermione noted that there were two unoccupied seats. She had no idea who was late, but that was their problem, not hers.

She jotted down what she was certain were the right answers and was almost finished with the assignment, when she heard footsteps running and coming closer to the classroom. Hermione rolled her eyes as she worked.

She had an idea of who was late.

And she was proved to be right, when both Harry Potter and the youngest Weasley boy came bursting in through the classroom door, and Hermione fought a smirk at what Weasley said, "Could you imagine the look on McGonagall's face if we were late?"

Hermione glanced up from her papers, getting her answer about the cat, a second later.

The cat leapt off the desk, transforming into the human figure of Minerva McGonagall.

Weasley looked at McGonagall and said, "That was bloody brilliant!"

"Well, thank you, Mr. Weasley," McGonagall said, "I suppose I could transfigurate one of you into a pocket watch? That way at least one of you will be on time."

"We got lost, professor," Potter said.

"Then I suppose a map?" McGonagall said, "I assume that you don't need one to find your seat."

Hermione went back to her work as Potter and Weasley sat down, people snickering around them. It was not her problem.

Next was Potions.

Hermione saw the professor come through the door and she ignored a shiver that went down her spine as the figure dressed in black, with shoulder-length, greasy black hair made his speech about the rules in this class.

She knew who this was. She had read all about the "Death Eaters."

She knew that this world had a darker side to it, because she had read all about it. Every detail she could get her hands on? She had greedily consumed the information. So, she knew about Death Eaters.

The servants of the dark wizard whose name was never mentioned-but she knew what it was, because again, she read a lot-his name was Voldemort, but people didn't like saying it, and his servants? They were called "Death Eaters."

And it was not kept secret who had been Death Eaters. Some of them-most of them, had ended up in the witch and wizard prison. Azkaban. Some of them had claimed that they had been under the imperius curse, the curse used to make people do other witches and wizards' bidding.

But some of them? Some of them had given information to others, in exchange for leniency. In exchange to re-enter society respectably.

A load of hogwash, if someone asked Hermione.

And she knew who this man was. Severus Snape.

A Slytherin who had joined the Death Eaters.

And who had been forgiven, because he had helped Dumbledore during Voldemort's last days.

Hermione didn't know how anyone could trust a Death Eater, but Hermione kept quiet about THAT particular opinion as Snape seemed to zero in on Harry Potter, who was jotting down notes.

Hermione nudged Harry out of his note taking, getting him to look up at Snape.

Snape stared down at Harry and said, "Mr. Potter, our new celebrity."

Hermione by no means missed the distaste in his voice. Snape then asked Harry where to find an ingredient and Hermione put her hand up, eager to show off what she knew.

She felt Snape glance at her, then saw him pause, when his eyes fell on her house badge. She knew that he had been in Slytherin, and was the head of the house.

He then turned to her and said, "Wait till Potter answers, if he can, Ms.?"

"Granger, Professor," she said, "Hermione Granger."

"Wait a moment, Ms. Granger," Snape said, looking back to Harry, "Well, where do you find it, Mr. Potter?"

Harry shook his head, "I don't know, sir," he confessed.

Snape then asked another question, and again, the same thing happened. Hermione knew the answer, she put her hand up, Snape sighed and told her to wait and see if Harry could answer. Harry didn't know the answer.

Then it happened a third time and Snape finally allowed Hermione to give her answer.

She gave all three correct answers.

Snape nodded and said, "Twenty points to Slytherin."

Despite her distrust of the former Death Eater, she felt a surge of pride at the assigned points to her.

Snape then looked at Potter and said, "Pity that you couldn't answer, Potter. It seems, fame isn't everything."

Hermione then almost winced. She hadn't meant to take a part in the bullying of Harry.

She had no idea what Snape's problem was, but he obviously didn't like Harry on sight. And the smirk Hermione caught on Draco Malfoy's face at Snape's horrible words, didn't help Hermione's guilt.

Eventually, that uncomfortable class ended and the rest of the classes thankfully weren't as painfully awkward or as uncomfortable.

Eventually they reached their flying class, and Hermione found that she had trouble getting her broom up into her hand. Harry and Malfoy got their brooms into their grasp almost immediately. Weasley got smacked in the face and Hermione had to fight a laugh. Eventually, she finally got the broom into her hand.

One student, the boy who Hermione had met on the train, and had helped to try to find the pet toad of, Neville Longbottom, began lifting off from the ground on his broom. Neville fired off into the air, eventually falling off his broom, his cloak being caught on the metal rim of a torch, before falling off and dropping to the ground, most likely injuring himself.

Madam Hooch, the teacher of the flying class, helped Neville up and led him away.

"Everyone stay on the ground, I'm getting Longbottom to the infirmary," Hooch ordered, "I see one broom in the air, you'll be on the train home before you can say 'quidditch.'"

Hermione zeroed in on Malfoy, seeing him go over to where Neville had fallen. Hermione noticed a round, plastic or glass item in his hand. Hermione recognized it as a "Remembrall."

Malfoy snickered at his two buddies, Vincent Crabbe and Gregory Goyle. "Did you see his face?" He asked his two goons, "Maybe if I gave this a squeeze, he'd remember to fall on his fat ass."

Hermione snorted and pulled her wand out, aiming it at the Remembrall as Harry came over, obviously about to confront Malfoy. She said loudly, "Accio, Remembrall!"

The Remembrall disappeared from Malfoy's grasp, and was now in Hermione's hands.

Harry, Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and everyone else turned to her, stunned.

She raised the Remembrall in her left hand, showing it off, "I'm going to give this to Longbottom at the infirmary," she said, "Anyone want to try to stop me?"

All of the Gryffindors, Ravenclaws and Hufflepuffs stayed silent, naturally. Some of the Slytherins were quiet as well. Malfoy, Crabbe, Goyle and Parkinson all gawked at Hermione, as she walked past them, carrying the Remembrall with her, going to the infirmary and giving it to Longbottom as he recovered.

He looked at her suspiciously and she smirked at him.

"Neville," she said, "Do you really think I'm such a different person, just because I'm in Slytherin?"

Neville opened his mouth, then closed it and took the Remembrall. "Thanks," he said, taking the item with his good hand, wincing as the nurse worked.

"You're very welcome," she said, smiling at him, "Hope you feel better soon."

She then left and went back to where the others were. Madam Hooch joined them soon afterwards. She looked at Hermione with admiration when she returned. Hermione looked at her, curiously. "Is something the matter, Madam Hooch?" Hermione asked.

Hooch said quietly as the others got their brooms ready, "I saw you bringing Mr. Longbottom's Remembrall to him, Ms. Granger. I wouldn't normally think that a Slytherin would do something for a Gryffindor."

Hermione shrugged. "Well," she said, "I guess you learn something new every day. We Slytherins can be surprising."

The session came to an end and Hermione found that while she definitely was not into flying, she was…reasonable at it.

Malfoy and Harry were naturals at it, but she hardly noticed them, though Malfoy kept trying to taunt her into noticing him.

She ignored him the whole time.

When the day came to an end and it was time for all the students to head off to their dorms, Hermione tore off from the rest of the group to start exploring. She might be a know-it-all, but she broke the rules unlike anyone else.

She went onto the changing staircases, going to different halls, where she knew it was not allowed for students to go.

Hermione liked giving people a false pretense, that she did what everyone said. She didn't. If the first five years of her life and her mother's lessons about the world had told her anything, it was that rules and authority were meant to be challenged.

She eventually reached the forbidden corridor, the one that Dumbledore had announced at the feast was out of bounds for students and would lead to…certain death.

Well, Hermione had faced those odds before, before her mother had adopted her.

She reached the furthest door from the entrance and pulled her wand out. It was locked, but that would mean nothing for her.

She got the door open, and peered inside, freezing almost immediately, eyes widening.

A giant, dark brown, furry, three-headed dog lay on the floor, big, three heads resting on its huge paws.

Its eyes were closed at the moment, but it slowly opened up its eyes and as soon as it saw her, all three heads began barking and snarling.

Hermione yelped, closing the door and locking it before the dog-no, the dogs could dive for her.

"Okay, then," she said, shuddering, "I won't go near THAT door again."

Her mind then replayed what she had seen, as her racing heart started slowing, when she went out of the corridor and went back to one of the stairways. The dogs' heads had been on its paws. Which had been on top of a wooden door of some kind. A trapdoor.

This brought Hermione to a conclusion.

The dogs were guarding something. She didn't know what. But they were.

She sighed. Oh, well, not her business. She went back down to the dungeons, gave the password to the painting-the easiest password to guess, by the way, "Pureblood," and the painting opened up.

Hermione rolled her eyes and went in.

She was surprised to see that the Greengrass sisters were awaiting her arrival. Daphne and Astoria got up from the couches near the fireplace.

"Hermione," Daphne said, "We were worried. Where were you?"

"Got lost?" Astoria asked.

Hermione shook her head. "No, nothing like that," she assured them, "Just exploring."

Daphne chuckled, smiling, "Well, be careful. Don't want anyone catching you where you're not supposed to be."

Hermione smiled, "Don't worry about it. I'm careful. Sorry, were you waiting here for me this whole time?"

Astoria shrugged, smiling. "We didn't want you to be in any danger or anything, so we wanted to be ready if you came any later than you did just now."

Hermione's eyes widened and she said quietly, "I'm sorry. I didn't mean to keep the two of you out of bed for so long."

"It's alright," Daphne said, shaking her head and looking at her sister, "We figured you might be better off having someone looking out for you."

Hermione smiled, warmth filling her chest. "Thank you," she said, "That means a lot to me."

Daphne smiled back, as did Astoria. "Don't worry about it," the older Greengrass twin said, "We're here for you. I know we don't know each other very well, but we're here for you."

Hermione grinned. She didn't think it was a lie. She knew that Slytherins tended to not be trusted, but she didn't believe it was a lie.

At least, she certainly didn't want it to be.

She also didn't want to ask anyone about their soulmate marks, as that was a very personal matter and she doubted anyone wanted to talk about that. And she wasn't going to step on anyone's toes in that area.

The next day was Halloween.

The first class of the day was with Professor Flitwick, and she unfortunately, was seated next to Malfoy.

She caused the feather to lift up with ease. Malfoy watched with envy and he growled, "You might be talented, but it doesn't change that you're just a mudblood."

Hermione whirled on him, furious, and stared at him.

Malfoy smirked at her, pleased that he had gotten a rise out of her, "You can pull off as many tricks as you want, Granger, but your blood will always be filthy."

Hermione, before she could stop herself, suddenly pressed the tip of her wand to Draco's throat.

His gray eyes went huge. Hermione felt a spike of pleasure at the fear all over his face.

He was scared. Good.

She could see all of his arrogance drain from him in seconds.

A hand then touched her right shoulder. She gasped, turning to look at Astoria behind her. Astoria shook her head. "Don't," she said, nodding to where Flitwick was, "He's still looking at the Gryffindors, but he won't for long."

Hermione nodded and pulled her wand away from Malfoy's neck. "You are very lucky," she said coldly to Malfoy, "Just imagine if I had pulled off an unforgivable curse properly," she was bluffing, of course, she hadn't been about to do THAT, but the look on Malfoy's face made it worth it. She then added, "Or worse, imagine if I hadn't pulled it off properly, and you'd be in even worse shape." She added, smirking, "Don't ever fucking talk to me like that again, inbred."

Malfoy's eyes got even bigger and Hermione placed her wand back onto the desk in front of her where the feather was hovering and slowly lowering.

Malfoy, needless to say, didn't mess with Hermione for the rest of the day.

But Hermione? She was ashamed of herself. She had almost hexed another student and one of the people in her own house. She went to the girl's bathroom and stayed there, crying in shame at her actions. For all his faults, Malfoy was just a kid, like her.

She cried in the bathroom, for a long time, before Pansy Parkinson showed up and asked her what was wrong. She said that nothing was wrong. Pansy didn't buy it, but left.

Twenty minutes later, she dried her eyes and got up from the toilet from where she had been sitting, and froze, when she heard loud, heavy footsteps walk into the bathroom. That sounded too loud and too heavy to be any student's footsteps, or even the footsteps of a human being at all.

She lowered herself to the floor and looked under the door.

The door to the bathroom was opening up and Hermione's eyes widened when she saw the huge, green-gray feet with bumps all over them, walk in, a thick, heavy looking, wooden club being dragged behind those feet.

Her blood ran cold.

A troll.

She had read a lot, so she knew those feet and what creatures tended to carry around those clubs.

Those feet didn't look right for a giant. No, this was no giant. It was a troll.

She stood up, backing up in the stall. She heard the door close up and she heard the big and heavy footsteps go further into the bathroom.

The troll moved around, grunting, seeming to investigate, to see if there was any living thing here. It occurred to Hermione that she should duck down, in case the troll started to swing the club around at the stalls.

She got down to the floor, eyes on those feet and that club.

Suddenly the bathroom door opened up again, and Hermione's heart jumped, hoping it was some of the teachers.

It wasn't.

Hermione's heart fell when she recognized the shoes. Oh, no. Daphne and Astoria. And Parkinson?

Hermione's eyes widened. Oh, no. Now the three of them were in danger too.

She saw the feet of the troll turn slightly and saw the club lift up. Her heart was caught in her throat. The troll was going to kill the other three. She got up and opened the stall door, brandishing her wand at the troll as she moved.

Pansy, Astoria and Daphne all turned to her, shocked, their own wands out, on the defensive.

Hermione aimed the wand at the troll's raised club, swished and flicked her wand and yelled, "Windgardium leviosa!"

The club tore itself out of the troll's hand and the troll, when trying to send his fist forward, found his hand empty and looked at it, grunting as he looked for his club stupidly, before looking up above his head.

Hermione yelled to the other girls, "Get out of the way!" she then lowered her wand and watched as the club fell, clogging the troll on top of its head.

The troll grunted in pain and it dropped down to the floor. Daphne, Astoria and Pansy all had to move out of the way as the troll collapsed to the ground, grunting in pain as it landed next to its club, unconscious.

Hermione stepped closer to it, eyeing it. "Is it dead?" She asked.

Watching the beast breathe, Daphne shook her head. "I don't think so," she said, "Just knocked out."

Hermione couldn't help the relief she felt. It would have tried to kill her and the other girls, of course. But she still couldn't help her relief. She had never killed anyone or anything before. And she didn't want to anytime soon.

Hermione's attention was drawn to Pansy when the other girl said, "Damn, Granger, I didn't know a mud-a muggle-born could take on a troll," Pansy said, fixing what she said when she got a glare from Hermione.

Hermione nodded. "Yeah," she said, staring at Parkinson with meaning, "I bet they don't teach you purebloods that muggle-borns can be strong too."

Parkinson looked guilty and glared at the ground, before Hermione said, voice softening, "Thank you, Pansy," Pansy looked up at her, startled, and Hermione smiled, "Thank you for coming to find me." She then looked at Astoria and Daphne, "Thank you. All three of you."

Daphne, Astoria and Pansy all smiled brightly at the words.

Their touching moment was interrupted, when they heard the door open up and heart footsteps come running in. They whirled around, seeing all three professor McGonagall, Professor Snape and Professor Quirrell come in, all three of them shocked and out of breath.

When she saw the sight in front of her, she said, "Explain yourselves!" She looked at Pansy and the Greengrass sisters, "All of you!"

The three girls were about to give their excuses, when Hermione spoke up, saving them, "It's MY fault, professor McGonagall." She felt the shocked looks from the other girls and the shocked looks from the teachers.

To say the look on Snape's face was humorous, was giving a great understatement.

Hermione gave her ridiculous story. That she had read about mountain trolls and thought that she could take this one on. And she said that she was wrong, and that if the other three girls hadn't come looking for her, she'd probably be dead.

That might not necessarily have been wrong. After all, hadn't Pansy and the Greengrass sisters given her the distraction needed for her to catch the troll off guard?

McGonagall was shocked and disappointed and took five points from her, and then awarded five points to all three Pansy, Astoria and Daphne. In her own words, "for sheer, dumb luck."

As McGonagall left, Hermione's caught the sight of Snape's right leg. His pants leg had been ripped and there was a disturbing amount of blood all over his leg.

Snape's cloak was drawn over his leg when he caught Hermione staring at his leg. Hermione eyed his leg, troubled, then followed the other three girls out of the bathroom.

"You didn't have to do that, Hermione," Daphne said, looking at Hermione, "We would have been fine with telling them about what Malfoy said to you."

Hermione almost laughed. She had actually kind of forgotten about that in the fight with the troll.

"It's alright," She told the other three girls, "After all, it turned out alright. Besides, thank you. All three of you, for coming for me."

She felt warmth flood her chest when all three Astoria, Daphne and Pansy smiled, all happy to be there for her, even Parkinson, who obviously came from a long line of proud purebloods.

After that? Their friendship was solidified.

However, Hermione kept what she saw in the back of her mind, along with the piece of information that she shared a wand core with the most dangerous and darkest wizard ever known.

That part she hoped to take to the grave. She wished no one to ever know that piece of information, except for her.

But she kept one other thing in mind.

She remembered that Snape had had an injury on his leg.

She planned to tell all three Pansy, Astoria and Daphne tomorrow about what she had seen.

The next day at breakfast, Hermione had proceeded to do so. Hermione had tried not to grin when all three Astoria, Daphne and Pansy sat next to her, flanking her as they ate.

And because Pansy seemed to be friends with her, Draco Malfoy was now looking at her with confusion and perhaps some reevaluation.

As everyone quieted down, Hermione softly told the other girls what it was she had seen last night, on Snape's leg. She then had told them about the three-headed dog she had seen the other day.

None of the three girls, nor Hermione understood why anyone would go anywhere near that huge three-headed dog, but it was the only thing that made sense. For some reason, Snape had gone to the three-headed dog, and had gotten himself bitten. But why?

What exactly had Snape been after?

He didn't strike Hermione as someone who just really, really loved dogs, and would risk being ripped apart to pet a giant, three-headed one.

Hermione suggested to her three new friends that they keep an eye on Snape, though she wasn't sure what he was after.

It would be a complication. After all, Snape was the head of their house.

But they could do it.

Pansy being friends with Hermione, had caught Millicent Bulstrode's attention. And eventually, she came to hang out with them, albeit, sending distrustful looks to the "muggle-born" the whole time. However, those looks gradually softened with time.

Hermione smiled as they ate, the serious matter at the moment, forgotten. She actually had friends now.

What a change.

Author's note

So, just to make it obvious, no, Hermione is not a pureblood in this. Not at all. She's adopted. But she's not a pureblood. She's still muggle-born. And I'll explain more about Hermione's backstory later. And for anyone who is going to ask if Hermione is going to end up with her mates, before she's eighteen-uh...no. I'm not interested in writing about something as disgusting and as wrong as pedophilia, so no. This story is going to track Hermione's entire time in Hogwarts, and when Hermione is of age, meaning eighteen, then she'll end up with Bellatrix and Fleur.