Chapter 1

            Miss Hermione Granger was not a fashionable young lady. She was not even a fashionable young witch. The daughter of Squire Granger (a very well respected and very muggle member of the ton), Hermione was expected to learn the genteel things that all young women looking for a husband ought to learn: the piano forte, embroidery, and poetry. She was not expected to gallivant off and attend a wizarding school, even one run by the Marquis of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore himself.

            Even as a witch she did not fit in. Witches of the time were expected to learn magic that would be helpful in the running of a household, and enough Defense Against the Dark Arts to be safe. They were not expected to be bookish, excellent students, who more than nine times out of ten would beat the boys in every class they attended.

            So Hermione had always felt different, out of place. She excelled in everything she put her mind to, especially Potions and Transfiguration. Unlike the other girls at Hogwarts, Hermione spent no time thinking about her clothes or hair, and as such, both were usually a rumpled mess from hours spent in the library.

            When at seventeen Hermione returned home, she was not fit for society. She was outspoken, had no taste in fashion, and despite her natural prettiness, was completely unfashionable in the looks department too. After all she was neither blond, nor was her hair raven. Her face was heart shaped, not Hellenic, and her eyes were doe brown, not the fashionable blue. So, Squire Granger, knowing his indulgence was the cause, resigned himself to the idea that his daughter would never catch a husband and reluctantly gave in to her requests that she not be forced to waste a year on having a season.

            It then follows that Squire Granger, knowing his daughters disposition and having thus resigned himself, was puzzled when he received a letter from his daughter, who was staying with her cousin, Lady Amelia Lupin, to inform him that she would be spending the Season in London. Of course, she assured him that she was not having a Season herself; Hermione would be staying with her aunt, Lady Minerva McGonagall, the Countess of Myrwood, and acting as a companion to Amelia who would be having her Season. Hermione also assured her father that Lady McGonagall would be providing for all of Hermione's expenses since she was the one to request the young woman's presence.

            Squire Granger couldn't help wondering what to make of this startling new development.

***

            "I cannot believe I allowed you two to talk me into this!" Hermione whispered angrily at her cousin and her cousin's fiancé, as Amelia adjusted her own cloak on Hermione's shoulders. She then scowled at the fiancé in question, one Sir Harry Potter, Knight of the Realm, and Far Below Amelia's Station, at least according to Amelia's ailing mother, Lady Lupin. Harry simply shrugged his shoulders and spread his hands as if this hadn't been his idea all along.

            "You know very well that Daddy approves of this wedding and so does Auntie Minerva. Auntie Minerva even offered to help us in our scheme. No one in London will recognize you, or know me. You've been gone for seven years, and we haven't had guests here in longer due to Mama's consumption. You only have to play the role until Daddy gets back to England in a month or two. Then he can sort the whole thing out," Amelia gave her a mischievous grin and added, "And who knows? Maybe you'll even meet a dashing Duke, and fall madly in love with him."

            Hermione snorted and glared even harder at her cousin, "Do shut up, 'Melia, or I shall have to hurt you." She seemed to consider her cousin carefully. "On second thought, if you don't shut up, I shall just refuse to go along with this scheme and you two delinquents will be parted forever." Hermione then raised her chin determinedly, turned on her heel, and walked outside to the waiting carriage, into which she immediately climbed. 

            "You know it's true- she'll take one look at some dark, broody, highly boring and intellectual lord and fall head over heels." Amelia said conspiratorially to her lover. He grinned at her, put his hand on his chest and sighed dramatically. "Dear God! You just described Lord Snape! Hermione's a goner!" He grimaced then and looked at her with pleading eyes, "Seriously though, her tastes can't be that bad can they?"

            "Of course not, silly," Amelia laughed as she playfully smacked him over the head, "Hermione would never settle for some one who couldn't love her completely, and Lord Snape certainly never could."

TBC

A/N: Thanks all for reading. I apologize for the very Jane Austin beginning, but this is a regency romance. I promise to leave that style behind soon enough, though I don't know if that is a good thing or a bad thing, or just a thing. Anyway, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please, please review. And a big thanks to my roommate, Kate, who beta-read this for me at one in the morning.