A/N: Hey! Sorry it took so long for me to update! I shouldn't have picked the week before finals to post my story… Just a little heads up, I don't know at what kind of pace I'll be writing this story since I'm not 100 percent sure where I want it to go yet. I'm winging it! However, I do promise that Riddle Me This will be well thought out and planned. Please Review! Review's motivate me to keep going! Let's set a goal of five new Reviews! I feel kinda bad that no ones reading this. I'm scared i've lost my touch.

Chapter Two:

On September first, a particularly rainy day, Hermione Granger found herself standing alone across from Kings Cross Station. Holding an umbrella high above her head, Hermione sighed in content as she listened to the sound of rain drumming against the damp burgundy fabric. Hermione loved the rain; everything about it. She loved the whispering hum as sheets of liquid plummeted down onto the barren soil, the frequent and unanticipated flashes of lightning, and the hearty growl of thunder as it rumbled in the sky.

"Hermione!" an all-consuming smile spread across the girls face as she heard her name called out to her from in the distance. Her head snapped towards the commotion. Two familiar figures could be seen pushing their way forward through the crowd.

"Mum!" Hermione shrieked, excitement flooding through her body. "Dad!" Her umbrella fell onto the pavement with a splash. Abandoning her belongings on the side of the street, Hermione threw herself into Harold Granger's arms. Burying her head deep in his chest she inhaled deeply; he'd always smelled strongly of cinnamon and tobacco.

"Of course we did, Pumpkin." Alice Granger spoke gently as she pried Hermione from Harold's unrelenting grasp. "We wouldn't dare miss seeing you off." She gently placed her red lips against Hermione's pale cheek leaving behind a bright smudge. Cupping her daughters face in her hands, Mrs. Granger licked her thumb and wiped vigorously at the spot.

"Mum!" Hermione shrieked with embarrassment as she swatted away her mother's hand. She'd always been like this; overbearing and protective, even more so when Hermione was a child.

"How was your stay at the burrow?" Mr. Granger cleared his throat as he carefully bent down and plucked Hermione's umbrella off the sidewalk. Turning to face his daughter, he smiled warmly. Hermione's frizzy brown curls were now sopping wet and plastered to the sides of her face.

"It was absolutely lovely!" Hermione gushed; once again shielded from the rain. "Harry joined us about a week ago." Hermione led her parents to where she had abandoned her luggage; it too was sopping wet. Luckily for Crookshanks, Hermione had cast a spell as to keep him dry.

"He and Ron have mostly been playing quidditch."

"Why don't you get out there and join them sometime," Mr. Granger suggested as he took hold of his daughter's luggage. Hermione's laughter filled the square as the three of them scurried through the crosswalk.

"Me? On a broom? Have you lost your mind?" Hermione pressed the back of her hand against her father's damp forehead; looking for any indication of fever. If there was anything to know about Hermione Granger, it was that she didn't do sports. That's not to say that she didn't like them; in fact, she rather enjoyed watching the boys play Quidditch. She just lacked a certain talent that was required to play the sport. Not to mention her excruciating fear of heights.

"Ah," Mr. Granger chuckled; running his free hand through his golden-brown hair. "I must have…"

Hermione felt her chest tighten as the three of them came to a stop before the tall looming station. It felt a bit too soon to be going back. She'd missed her parents very dearly! When she'd first gotten Ron's invitation to come stay at The Burrow a month ago, Hermione had almost turned down the offer. It wasn't fair that she got to spend so much time with her friends and so little with the people who raised her.

"You ready?" Lost in her thoughts, Hermione hardly realized that they were standing in front of the 'grand' barrier that housed platforms nine and three quarters. Mrs. Granger's hand tightened around Hermione's.

If I were a muggle, this would be the hardest part. Running head first into a seemingly normal brick wall would, I assume, make anyone nervous. What if I fell flat on my face? What if someone I knew from back home saw me? What if someone followed me in? All irrational fears of course… There were ministry officials surrounding the site; eager to take on unsuspecting muggles.

"One," Hermione muttered as she squeezed her mother's hand.

"Two," Harold Granger once again tightened his grip on Hermione's luggage.

"Three!" Putting all fear aside, the three of them charged forward. There was no looking back. Together they stumbled through the barrier.

Not nearly as magical as Hogwarts, or even Diagon alley, platforms 9 ¾ was rather ordinary. There weren't any flashing lights, no fancy attractions, and to be honest, the air was kind of stuffy and smelled like rotten eggs.

As Hermione's golden eyes raked over the crowded platform she spotted many familiar faces. Neville? No. Luna? No. Seamus? No. Ah! There they were standing against the far wall! How could she have missed them? Their flaming red hair stood out worse than my Uncle Tobias's sore thumb.

"Ron!" Veering left, Hermione dropped her mother's hand. The family of three quickly began to weave themselves in and out of the crowd. "Harry!" She called out again as she elbowed her way past a lingering group of Hufflepuff girls.

"Hermione, dear," being the first to spot the Grangers, Molly Weasley clapped her chubby hands together in delight. "We wondered how far you'd wandered off." A warm smile spread across her flushed face.

"Why are you all wet, Mione?" Ginny Weasley immediately furrowed her brows together as her eyes raked over Hermione's damp physique. Wrinkling her nose in distaste, Ginny pushed her way past her brother as he gawked at Hermione.

"Oh!" Hermione blushed a fierce shade of crimson as she noted how her thin cotton shirt now clung to her petite form. Shifting her weight onto one foot, the girl shamefully crossed her arms across her exposed body.

"Seriously, Hermione?" Ginny shook her head and chuckled to herself. "Are you a witch or not?" Thrusting her hand into the pocket of her jumper she quickly withdrew an exquisite yew wand and pointed it at the timid brunette.

"Tergeo!" Ginny bellowed loudly; a stream of golden light erupting from the tip of her wand. As warmth flooded through Hermione's body, she couldn't help but feel as if she'd recently been stuffed into her mother's old drying machine; something she'd often wondered about as a child.

"How terrific!" Like a child at the circus, Harold Granger clapped his hands together in amazement. Having been fascinated with 'magic' as a child, Mr. Granger reveled in the fact that he could witness the real thing in person. Like many other muggles, Mr. Granger had been raised to believe that magic was simply a trick of the light or that they were cheap slight-of-hand performances. No one could 'really' pull a rabbit from a hat… or so he thought. These ideals, at an unremarkable rate, were quick to change when he met Hermione Granger for the first time.

From day one the Granger's suspected that their daughter was special. Maybe it was the bright sparkle of curiosity in her eyes, or perhaps, how Hermione's bottle would suddenly float out of the refrigerator, down the hall, and into the girls expecting hands.

"Very well done!" Much like her husband, Alice Granger doted on Ginny's wandsmanship. She was very proud that Hermione had surrounded herself with such talented friends. Pulling her daughter, now dry, closer to her, Mrs. Granger gently combed her fingers through her daughter's unruly hair. The drying charm had done nothing but frizz it out.

"Mum!" For the thousandth time that day, Hermione swatted at her mother's eager hand.

"It's almost eleven, dearie…" Mrs. Weasley spoke gently as she glanced down at the watch around her wrist. Harry and Ron suddenly looked up from their conversation about quidditch as the trains loud whistle shook the tiny platform. "Best to be saying our goodbyes." Sending a pointed look in Hermione's direction, Mrs. Weasley turned to face her own children.

"Don't cry, love." Mr. Granger spoke as Hermione turned to face him; tears spilling down her cheeks. Harold capped a comforting hand against his daughters back.

"Christmas is just around the corner." Mrs. Granger's smooth voice soothed the ache in Hermione's chest. Shaking, the small girl fell dramatically into her mother's warm embrace.

"I love you," Hermione muttered; nuzzling her head into the crook of her mother's neck. Once again, Alice ran her fingers lovingly through her daughter's hair.

"We love you too, pumpkin." Harold gently ran his had up Hermione's back and grasped her shoulder. He gave a gentle squeeze; watery tears had begun to form in the corners of his crystalline blue eyes.

"I promise to write every week!" Pulling away from her mother's grasp, Hermione wiped the back of her hand across her cheek; drawing away the moisture.

"We're so proud of you, sweetie." Harold's voice cracked with emotion.

"More than you'll ever know…" a small sob escaped her mother's lips. Hermione's hand grazed her fathers as her fingers curled around the handle of her trunk; she pulled it casually up beside her.

"Hurry now, the train is about to start moving." Looking away from her sobbing parents, Hermione's eyes came to a rest on Molly Weasley. Glancing down at her golden watch, the stout woman pulled her children into one last embrace.

"Mum!" Ginny flailed like a fish as she tried to escape her mother's tight grasp. "You're choking me."

"Very well," Placing her hands on her hips, Molly examined the group of students standing before her with pride. "Go on, get." Molly shooed the children forward as the final whistle sounded throughout the platform.

As Hermione made her way towards the train she threw one last glance over her shoulder. Her heart swelled with emotion as she watched her father snake his arms around her mother's small waist. Leaning into him, Alice smiled and waved gingerly to her daughter.

"Careful, Ronald!" Mrs. Weasleys demanding voice pulled Hermione back into reality. Heads snapping towards the commotion, both Hermione and Ginny turned to face a stumbling Ron. Falling backwards the boy's hands clawed viciously at the air in search of support; not that it gave him any. The only thing that kept the boy from falling over was Harry's hands pressed against his back.

OoOo RMT oOoO

"Malfoy is up to something." Everyone in the small compartment groaned with irritation; this was the fifth time Harry had introduced the topic since they had first boarded the train. "You saw it with your own eyes!" Harry pounded his fists against his legs. "And no, he wasn't simply browsing for furniture." Looking pointedly at Ron, he waved his arms animatedly through the air.

"Harry," Hermione snapped impatiently as she closed the copy of Spellman's Syllabary she'd been reading. "We don't know what we saw!"

"Rubbish!"

"Hermione's right, you know?" The silky voice of Luna Lovegood echoed throughout the compartment. Three pairs of curious eyes slowly turned towards the mysterious girl as she stood in the doorway. Tucking a stack of magazines gently beneath her arm, she quickly readjusted her brightly colored cardboard spectacles. "Sometimes what you think you saw isn't what exists in reality."

"Or he's broke his beloved 'Hand of Glory.'" Ron sniggered as he casually bit the head off a struggling chocolate frog. "No guessing what he uses that thing for..." A wide mischievous grin spread across the boy's face as he spoke.

"Quibbler?" Luna asked; completely oblivious of the lude comment Ron had just made. Hermione eyed the girl carefully as she eased herself into the compartment; she didn't bother to shut the door behind her.

"No, thank you," Hermione examined the glossy magazine resting in the blonde girls outstretched hand. A pair of spectacles identical to Luna's was attached to the front cover. Why would anyone want to wear those things?

"If you change your mind, I'll be just down the hall." Luna's smooth voice trailed off into oblivion as Hermione turned to gaze out of the large window that rested to her left. Her eyes wandered over the everchanging terrain as the train rattled on its track. She couldn't see the castle yet; no, it was far to early. But she knew from the way the sun threw interesting colors onto the clouds as it set beyond the horizon that they would be there soon.

"What do you think that cabinet was." Hermione, knowing they were alone once more, tossed her book onto the empty seat cushion beside her. "And what did it have to do with Montague." This time, as Harry spoke, Hermione chose to ignore the words leaving his mouth. Harry was a lot like a dog… Once his mind was set on something, he refused to let it go.

Hermione didn't know how much time had passed, but soon, she spotted Hogwarts castle for the first time. Silhouetted against the Scottish sky, the castles twinkling lights illuminated the dark horizon.

"We'd better get changed," Hermione declared as he glanced down at the boys. She watched carefully as the two of them continued their game of exploding snaps. "We'll be arriving in twenty minutes." Hermione pushed herself out of her seat. "Guys," Her voice rose impatiently as she summoned her bag from the luggage rack.

"Blimey!" Ron exclaimed loudly as the cards in front of him exploded; which successfully singed his eyebrows. Blinking multiple times, the red-head rubbed vigorously at his aching eyes.

"What were you saying, Hermione?" Harry asked as he collected the remaining cards off the floor one by one.

"I'm going to the loo. You'd better get dressed while I'm gone." Hermione declared as she pulled out a freshly tailored set of Gryffindor robes from her bag. Not waiting for a reply from either of the boys, Hermione made her way out of the compartment and into the crowded corridor. It looked as if others had come to the same decision as she.

Keeping close to the wall, Hermione tried her best to squeeze past the other students unnoticed; but in the space permitted, it simply wasn't possible.

"You can't do it, Draco!" Hermione had almost made it to the correct compartment when an unfamiliar feminine voice shattered her calm composure. Knowing that it was the last thing she should be doing, Hermione froze with one foot still suspended in the air.

"Who are you to tell me what I bloody can and can't do?" Another voice, one that she knew belonged to Draco Malfoy, sneered. His words were harsh and seemed to cut through the air like a knife; cool and menacing. There was nothing unexpected about the words he spoke or how he'd presented them. Frowning, Hermione inched closer to the compartment.

"Is it because you care for him?" raucous laughter and persistent jeers flooded from the compartment. "Like you have a chance, Greengrass… It's your sister Draco wants!" Parkinson… Hermione would know that voice anywhere. Pansy always knew which knife to use and exactly where to slice you.

"Like you don't, Pans?" a new male speaker introduced himself into the conversation. Unlike Draco's cool, harsh, voice, this one was soft, jovial, and light. "Who spent four years chasing him around the castle? Most certainly not, Daphne." Hermione could almost feel Pansy's blush creeping into her cheeks.

"No not because I care for him!" The first voice, whom Hermione now recognized as Daphne Greengrass, exclaimed loudly. Hermione didn't know much about the girl aside for the fact that she was currently a sixth year and in Slytherin. She supposed she'd seen her in class before, but she'd never paid her any mind. Why would she? "Merlin, Blaise, nothing like that!" Disgust dripped from Daphne's voice.

"Then what?" Draco demanded; Hermione heard him throw his fist onto the table. "You don't even know what it is! It's not of your concern."

"I'm your friend Draco." Hermione could hear the sincerity in her voice; this girl was truly unlike the other Slytherin's she knew. "We're all your friends. What ever he has asked you to do…" There was a brief pause as she struggled to find her words. "You don't have to do it; and most certainly not alone."

"So, you're going to help me?" There was no mistaking the condescending tone he now took with Daphne. "Little-miss won't pick a side is going to help me? What would mummy and daddy say?"

"They'd tell me to be a friend." There wasn't a drop of doubt in the words she spoke.

"Well I don't need a friend!" Draco's fists pounded into the table once more. "Nor do I want one." There was a sharp intake of breath from behind the door and everyone in the compartment grew silent.

"Fine." The finality in Daphne's voice was almost unnerving. "Perfect even…" Movement could be heard on the other side of the door. Hermione's heart began to race as she watched a small hand grasp the opening of the door. Standing quickly, Hermione straightened herself as the compartment door slid open.

Gaping like a deer caught in the headlights, Hermione came face to face with Daphne Greengrass. Being of the same height and stature, Daphne's piercing green eyes locked instantly with Hermione's. She had been caught. It was irrefutable.

"Sorry, I um… dropped my wand." The Slytherin eyed Hermione up and down as the girl flashed her wand. Closing her eyes and biting her lip; Hermione realized just how terrible of a lie that really was. She was the smartest witch of her year! How could she not think of a proper excuse?

"Leave," Daphne's green eyes narrowed as she held her hands up to Hermione in a shooing gesture. "You don't belong here." Hermione didn't have to be told twice. Turning quickly, Hermione dashed the rest of the way to her destination.

OoOo RMT oOoO

A/N: Believable? Yes? No? Daphne is going to play a huge role in this story! We'll be seeing a whole lot more of her! The Dramione Element will be slow rolling, but it will happen!