Meeting on the Express

Hermione Granger sat in her very own compartment of the Hogwarts Express. Right now, a dream was coming true for her. She had been looking forward to this day for almost a whole year. And that meant a lot for a girl going on twelve.

There was just one thing wrong about this moment: Hermione was alone. She had really been looking forward to this ride on the train. It had felt to her like a magical opportunity to get to know someone. She had thought she would sit with girls like herself for hours upon hours. The landscape of Britain would have rushed past their window and they could have guessed which city they just passed. Her childish hope had been that this would be the day her future self would use to begin the story of how she met her best friend.

Sadly, her attempts at befriending her peers had been anything but perfect. The first girls – 'witches', Hermione corrected herself – had scornfully sneered at her when she had introduced herself. The girls in the next compartment had tattled about the Boy-Who-Lived which made them sigh amorously, unicorns which made them squeal girlishly, and which house colors would fit their complexions best. When Hermione had tried her luck for the third time and introduced herself to some slightly older girls they had told her, "Go and play with the other firsties!"

Hermione retreated into an empty compartment. For the time being, she abandoned her endeavor of socializing. Once she arrived at Hogwarts that problem would be solved anyway. She would be sorted into one of the four houses where she would finally find real friends. Hogwarts: A History stated very clearly that the bonds in between members of one house would be second only to the ties of family.

Friendship and the best school to learn everything about magic was just one train ride away!

A loud whistle and a jerk started her journey into the Scottish Highlands. While Hermione watched the waving crowd, she wished her parents could have been part of it. But Muggles couldn't step onto the magical platform or see the Hogwarts Express at all – not even when their own daughter was on board.

Hermione was about to start reading in Hogwarts: A History when she noticed a blond wizard and a dark-haired witch outside of her compartment. They were probably her age and they were very obviously a couple. The manner in which the girl clung to the wizard's arm left no space for interpretation.

Hermione frowned at the way the other girl acted. She eyeballed the boy like he was the only thing in the world. It was impossible to understand anything they said but Hermione could see that the boy was quite unhappy about something.

Finally, the young wizard pushed the compartment door open. His face was friendly enough, "Good morning, my name is Neville Longbottom and this is Mary Potter."

Naturally, Hermione knew who Neville Longbottom was! He was the Boy-Who-Lived. That explained why he already had a girlfriend – and such a cute one on top of it.

Hermione bit her tongue. She was not like the girls she had met before. She would neither say something embarrassing or act starstruck.

The dark-haired witch curtsied.

Hermione gaped at her. Who curtsied nowadays? Despite her surprise, she managed to say, "Good morning, I'm Hermione Granger."

"Are these seats taken?" Neville asked politely.

Hermione shook her head in the negative. "No, please take a seat!"

And then something weird happened. The wizard turned away from Hermione and started whispering.

The witch hugged the boy and answered, "Go and make some friends Neville." She sat down, assisted by her boyfriend. It almost looked like he placed a doll.

He looked very unhappily at her. "I want you to wait here for me. Once we arrive in Hogsmeade, I'll come and fetch you!"

"Okay, thank you, Neville." Hermione saw the girl smile sweetly.

To Hermione's great disappointment Neville stepped out of the compartment. There were so many things she would have liked to ask him. He slid the compartment door closed with surprising care and once more stared reluctantly at them. Then he left.

Once she turned to face the other witch Hermione found herself gazing at the most mesmerizing green eyes she had ever seen. No model, no actress she knew of had such eyes. They were of a rich and intense green color which sparkled like jewels in the sunlight.

It was hard to look away but Hermione managed after the initial surprise. She scrutinized the other witch.

Mary's back was ramrod straight, her narrow shoulders squared. Her knees were demurely closed and her lower legs were slightly slanted to the left. Her hands lay neatly in her lap. The Queen would have been proud of her. Hermione frowned – how could you even place your hands in a manner that instantly transmitted neat?

Everything else about Mary was without blemish as well. Her black hair fell in waves as if she had just been coiffed to be photographed. Her skin was aristocratically pale. Everything about her was perfect! Well, maybe her white dress had too many frills. But she was a little girl. It was probably alright for her to wear it.

"So, your name is Mary?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"Yes, my name is Mary Potter." the witch confirmed nicely.

Hermione thought Mary's smile seemed faked. "And Neville is your boyfriend?"

"Neville?" Mary's voice asked in surprise. "Neville is my godbrother."

"Godbrother – is that a word?" Hermione tested the word so quietly she couldn't hear it herself over the omnipresent rat-tat-tat of the steel wheels of the train on its tracks.

"I'm pretty sure it is a word," Mary said softly. "You do understand what I mean with it don't you?"

Hermione felt embarrassed that Mary had overheard her small conversation with herself. Thus she answered more sharply than she had meant to, "He's basically your adopted brother." The tone of her voice made Mary's eyes go wide, her gaze wavered.

The two girls said nothing to each other for a while. Hermione pondered whether she should just resume reading and wait for the sorting, when Mary asked, "Is this your first ride to Hogwarts as well?"

"Naturally!" The brunette answered snappishly, "You can see that straight away."

"I'm sorry! I didn't want to annoy you." Mary apologized in a hurry. "But I couldn't see it... I'm blind after all."

All blood drained from Hermione's face - she could feel it! Her breath caught. "I'm sorry!" she blurted out, "I didn't mean to be mean!" She cringed when she thought how disappointed her parents would be once they heard that she had harassed this poor little girl! Suddenly her clinginess and her good hearing made so much more sense... "I would have never guessed that you're blind!"

"Really? You've not noticed that at all?" Mary leaned forward eagerly.

Hermione was a little bit weirded out by the sudden excitement of the other girl. "No, I really didn't. And I would have never guessed."

For a while, the two witches talked about Hermione's observations and what she had thought of Mary. The bushy haired girl made sure to phrase everything positively since a lot of her thoughts had been less than endearing. She still added a little bit of criticism though so Mary could try to act less aloof.

Hermione had just finished another explanation and expected Mary to ask yet another question about her impression when the other witch suddenly started acting nervous. She twitched and her eyes rolled around in distress. "Are you alright?"

"You know it is totally alright if you say no but... um... could I touch your face?" Mary rushed to explain, "That's the only way I'll know what you look like."

Hermione hesitated only for the briefest moment before consenting, "Okay."

Mary shuffled to the edge of her seat and stretched out both of her hands. Hermione followed her lead. She leaned forward and took Mary's wrists to place her hands on her own face.

The skin of the dark-haired witch was unbelievably soft. Her fingers traced feathery the contours of Hermione's face. They cupped her cheeks, traced her eyebrows, and sampled her mouth and chin. "You're pretty!"

Hermione could not stop herself from snorting. "Not as pretty as you."

Mary's cheeks turned pink in embarrassment. But it was true. Hermione was of the opinion that one could have made a replica of the other witch's face for puppets. It was heart shaped with a cute button nose and a sweet mouth. With her snow-white skin and her ebony hair, she could have landed the role of Snow White at Hermione's former school no matter her skill at performing. And that was even without taking her beautiful eyes into account.

Once they had both settled back onto their benches, Hermione asked, "What do you think, which house will you be sorted into?"

"Hopefully Hufflepuff!" Mary answered instantaneously.

"Really? Hufflepuff?" Hermione was flabbergasted. In her opinion, Hufflepuff was the last house to be in. "Why?" After all, Dumbledore had not only been sorted into Gryffindor, he had also been its Head of House for years and he was the greatest wizard alive! Ravenclaw was all about intelligence. Therefore Hermione would probably, and against her wish, get sorted into it. But even Slytherin seemed like a better choice to her than Hufflepuff. Slytherins at least aimed to get something done. Hufflepuff gave her the impression that it got all the students that had no special characteristics.

"It's supposed to be easy to find friends in Hufflepuff. And Hufflepuffs support each other." Mary's face expressed heart-wrenching sadness, "And I'm in need of a lot of support."

That made sense. Hermione nodded in understanding. Then she remembered that Mary couldn't see that and said, "You've thought about that more than once."

"I've talked to mummy about it," Mary said seriously. "She said I should..."

A frown crept onto Hermione's forehead when Mary stopped mid-sentence, "What has your mum said?"

"I'm not supposed to talk about it," Mary replied sheepishly. "Dad and Uncle Sirius said it's a tradition."

"It's tradition to not talk about something?" Hermione's curiosity was aroused.

Mary squirmed in her seat without moving much at all. Mary did nothing more than lean slightly sideways and cross her ankles. But it was very odd for Hermione to see the other witch move after she had remained as motionless as a puppet for such a long time. Seconds later, Mary uncrossed her ankles and shifted back into her initial sitting position. She finished by nervously wetting her lips, "It is tradition to not tell the first years how they'll be sorted into the four houses."

"Oh!" Hermione leaned forward. "That explains why I was unable to look it up. It is not even mentioned in Hogwarts: A History!"

Mary's hands twitched, "We're meant to learn of it on our own."

"But you were told in advance?"

"Mummy said it's important for me to know," Mary's tone requested Hermione's understanding, "because I need to get into Hufflepuff."

"I understand." Hermione explained, "Every rule has its exception."

"Mummy said that to daddy too!" Mary exclaimed, impressed. "He and Uncle Sirius wanted to tell me made-up stories of how the Sorting would proceed. They said it is a fun tradition, and Neville and my brothers think so too. But mummy told them that they would make me anxious, and she wouldn't let them be so thoughtless. You can't imagine how they reacted. They were pouting! Mummy told them to act their age," Mary shook her head in indignation, "So, before mummy told me about the sorting she made me promise not to tell."

Hermione only had to ponder briefly whether she wanted to know. Being sorted into the correct house was at risk after all. "Would you tell me?"

"But I'm not supposed to tell!"

Hermione knew that she could hardly ask Mary to break a promise she had given to her mother. But being sorted into the right house was important too. "Nobody told me made-up stories."

"Why not?" Mary asked curiously. "Uncle Sirius said that's what you do and Uncle Remus agreed. And Uncle Remus is always right." After a moment Mary added, "Just like mummy."

"Your dad is not always right too?" Hermione asked ironically.

"No." Mary softly shook her head. "Sometimes he asks mummy or Uncle Remus if he doesn't know something. mummy is very smart. Everyone says she is the brightest witch who has ever been in Hogwarts."

"Everyone?" Hermione had a hard time believing that.

"Everyone!" Mary nodded energetically. "People tell me I should listen carefully and study diligently. If I work hard, I might turn out as smart as her." Her voice wavered a little bit, "But mummy said, it's fine if I do my best. She'll love me anyway. No matter, whether I'm smart or pretty or blind."

Mary added the last word with a bit of hesitation and Hermione felt herself cringe. For the briefest of moments, she felt elated when she realized that Mary hadn't noticed her expression. After the short elation came a significantly longer period of feeling bad and guilty.

Out of nowhere, Mary asked, "You won't tell anybody else?"

"Whom should I tell? We're completely alone in the compartment."

"You could tell your friends."

Hermione snorted in a very unladylike manner, "I've got no friends."

"None at all?" Mary asked dumbfounded.

Hermione felt kind of confused since Mary seemed to be very hopeful, "None at all."

"Maybe," Mary squirmed in that manner of hers, "Maybe, you'd like to be my friend?"

Even if Mary had not looked shyly at her in hope and anticipation, there would have been no way Hermione could have declined that request, "I'd love to!" Following an impulse, she stood up and pulled the other witch into a hug.

After growing all stiff Mary soon melted into the hug.

Afterward, they managed to talk about anything but the sorting for nearly fifteen minutes. But in the end, Hermione's curiosity won out, "Can't you tell me?"

Mary obviously wanted to give in to the request, "But I promised mummy not to tell! I don't want to lie to her!"

"Sharing a secret is not lying." After a brief hesitation, she added, "It's about trust and such things."

Mary did not hesitate at all, "But how can you trust me once you know that I spill secrets?"

"That's a very good argument." Hermione had to relent. "Pity – but I guess I'll find out once we get sorted."

"Yes, you will." Mary nodded glumly. "Why weren't you told any made-up stories?"

"My parents are both muggles."

"Really?" Mary asked excitedly. "My granny and gramps are Muggles too!"

"You're a Halfblood?" Hermione asked curiously. In light of Mary's overall weird behavior, she had expected her to be a Pureblood.

"Oh, I am a Pureblood." Mary clarified. "My mum was adopted."

"Muggles can adopt witches?" Hermione asked in surprise, "Isn't that against the Statute of Secrecy?"

"I guess so?" Mary seemed to be confused for a moment. "Well, it's like this: When mummy was a baby she was hidden for her own safety." Mary hesitated and frowned, "I guess that's all I know."

"Was it because of the Blood War?" Hermione asked.

"I think so." Mary was still confused but Hermione had no idea what she was thinking about. "How do you know about the Blood War?"

Hermione shrugged, which Mary could not see, she reminded herself. "I read about it."

"That makes sense." Mary fell silent. She was deep in thought. Hermione had a very good reason to assume that she was thinking about her mother.

When Hermione was silently grabbing her book, Mary spoke up, "How about this: I'll tell you made-up stories about the Sorting. And I'll also tell you how it's really done. That way you'll know the truth without really knowing it!"

Hermione clapped her hands in excitement. "Maybe I'll even guess which of the stories is not made up!"

"Just one moment..." Mary turned her beautiful green eyes this way and that way while thinking. It was really fascinating to watch her. "Okay, how about this. You've got to compete with a troll."

At first Hermione was too shocked to react. She had read about trolls. They were known to be extremely dangerous. They were strong enough to rip out trees! Suddenly, a smile crept over Hermione's lips. "I'll compete with a troll in which way?"

"Huh?" Mary looked a bit helpless.

"You said I was to compete against a troll. Compete in what kind of discipline? Running? Spelling?"

"No, neither of those!" Mary said in a hurry, "You wrestle it." But it came out all wrong and they both knew the first lie had been seen through.

Amusement laced Hermione's words, "You want to give it another try?"

Mary frowned. Her eyes turned once more this way and that way. Then they stopped. Mary was once more blindly looking at Hermione, "You've got to find a way through a maze. The exit you take determines the house you'll be sorted into."

This lie was not hard to see through as well. "Then it would be pure coincidence which house we'd be sorted into," Hermione explained her reasoning triumphantly, "Thus the houses wouldn't have traits associated with them since they were founded hundreds and hundreds of years ago."

Mary listened helplessly as Hermione shot her story down.

The dark haired witch took a number of calming breaths and then began succinctly, "You put a hat onto your head and it will exclaim which house you'll be sorted into."

"A hat?" Hermione echoed. "That's ridiculous. How can a hat talk? And how will a hat even decide where to put a student. Will he sent all children with a huge head into Ravenclaw?"

A small, barely-visible smile crept onto Mary's face.

Hermione goggled at her in surprise, "It's really the hat?"

"What? No! It's not!" Mary shook her head vehemently.

Hermione giggled, "You should keep your smile under control."

"Oh." Mary looked like she was about to start sulking.

"How does the hat decide?"

"I've not said that it's the hat!" Mary tried once more to fool her, "How is a hat supposed to make such a decision?"

"Nice try." The bushy haired witch rolled her eyes, "But I said so before, your smile gave the truth away. You should also work on the eye movement. It gives your lies away." She asked pointedly, "How does a hat place us?"

Mary chewed nervously on her lower lip. More than once, she seemed like she was about to speak up, but at the last second she shut her mouth and fell silent. Anxiously, she asked, "The compartment door is still closed?"

There was no need to check but Hermione turned her head and took a look nonetheless, "Yes, it's still closed."

The dark-haired witch leaned forward in a conspiratorial manner and started whispering, "The hat will talk to the person whose head it is placed on. Depending on that discussion you'll be sorted into one of the houses. Uncle Sirius told mummy that he convinced the hat to sort him into Gryffindor despite all members of his family being sorted into Slytherin for centuries!"

"Members of the same family will get sorted into the same house?" Hermione questioned curiously. She knew about genetics in general and that traits were passed from parent to child. However, she had thought the traits passed were things like hair and eye color. Hermione herself had inherited both of those from her mother.

"Not always. But really often." Mary said. "Uncle Remus' father was not in the same house as he."

"Was he sorted into the same house as his mother?" Hermione asked instantly.

"Uncle Remus' mum was a Muggle."

"Just one moment," Hermione went over some facts in her mind. The house affiliations did not add up. "You say, Uncle Sirius and Uncle Remus. But they are neither brothers of your mother nor your father are they?"

"No, they are not," Mary said with a frown. "Uncle Sirius, Uncle Remus, and dad shared a dormitory in Hogwarts. They were best friends. There was a fourth one." Mary swallowed and added glumly, "But that one is dead."

"I'm sorry to be a know-it-all" - she really was, but she could not restrain herself - "but only brothers of your parents are really your uncles,"

"Oh?" Mary frowned cutely. Hermione was immensely surprised when she objected, "I'm really sorry but Uncle Sirius is my uncle. Our lineages cross in my great-great-great-grandfather. As such, I'd have to call him uncle of the fifth degree. But I only do so if he acts inappropriately... like really-really inappropriately."

"And where does your lineage cross with that of your Uncle Remus?" Hermione asked in fascination.

"Sadly, Uncle Remus' lineage isn't well-documented." Mary conceded.

"Oh, I'm sorry." Hermione had no idea why she had just apologized but some subtle tune in Mary's voice had made her do it. "Um, maybe you can draw your lineage out for me one day. That could be interesting..."

Mary offered in a very courteous way, "If you're interested in it, I could ask mummy to send me the books containing the lineage of the Potters and the Blacks."

For a moment Hermione wondered who had such a long lineage that he needed a book to keep track of it? Suddenly, everything fell into place. The posture, the manners, all the other details had screamed upper class at Hermione right from the beginning. She felt kind of dumb to only realize belatedly that Mary was the witch-equivalent of an aristocrat.

The young bookworm was suddenly very self-aware. What had she been thinking? And what was she supposed to talk about with an aristocrat? The weather? "Um, you said you've got brothers?"

"Two actually! Harry is one year younger than me. And James turned four recently," Mary exclaimed with obvious delight. "Sometimes Harry is a bit demanding. He wanted to go with Neville to Hogwarts at all cost. He suggested that we swap places – he'd go to Hogwarts for me and I'd stay at home in his stead."

"That's mean!" Hermione blurted out. She couldn't even imagine what she'd have done if she had been kept away from school for yet another year! Waiting as long as she did for the opportunity to enroll in Hogwarts had been bad enough as it was.

"You think it's mean?" Mary kind of tested the word. "I don't think so. Harry just wanted to stay together with Neville. The two of them are playing together all the time after all."

"But what about you?" Hermione protested energetically, "You'd be at home all alone and with nobody to play with too!"

"I'm a witch. The two of them didn't play much with me anyway." Mary defended her brother. "I spent most of my time with mummy and James. And in contrast to Neville, they are still at home."

"They'll be at home next year too. You should not even think about stepping back for him. It's your turn to go to Hogwarts this year. Not his!" Probably for the first time in her life, Hermione felt feminism flare. "Isn't your mum working at all?"

"Mummy works in the Ministry. But only two days a week." Mary highlighted, "She says caring for all four of us is the most important thing for her."

"What's your father doing?" Hermione asked waspishly. She could hardly refrain from expressing her disapproval over the fact that it was the wife who would stay at home and take care of the children. Her parents alternated these things.

Mary seemed to be oblivious to the bushy-haired witch's thoughts, "Daddy is the head of the family, so he represents us in the Wizengamot. Just like Uncle Sirius has to represent the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black."

Thus Hermione's theory was proven. Mary was an aristocrat. As far as Hermione understood it, the Wizengamot was just like the House of Lords in the British Parliament. The seats Mary spoke of were probably of the hereditary sort.

"Do you have any siblings?" Mary asked attentively.

"No, I'm an only child."

"Oh, so you had nobody to play with? That was probably very boring wasn't it?" Mary asked sympathetically.

That was true, but Hermione was too proud to confirm it, instead saying "Well, I had to go to school anyway."

Mary leaned back. It was only a slight movement but it had a great impact. She had distanced herself noticeably. Mary's voice sounded hurt, "You said you were a first year just like me! Why are you asking me questions about the sorting if you were already sorted?"

"But this is my first year at Hogwarts!" Hermione hurried to explain, "I was on a muggle school!"

Mary once more shifted in her seat. She seemed to be very unsure of what to think.

Hermione hurried to explain, "In the non-magical world children are sent to school at six and not eleven. In school, we learned about the alphabet and then how to read and write. We got calculus, painted pictures, did sport and there was a class for singing. And I would go home each afternoon. The school I went to before wasn't a boarding school." The longer Hermione kept on talking the more mollified Mary got. In the end, Hermione dared to ask, "Where did you learn to read and write? I mean you can read and write, can't you?"

"Mummy taught me," Mary said like it was the most normal thing in the world, "Sometimes daddy tried to help. But I preferred lessons with mummy. Uncle Remus is good at explaining as well."

Hermione wondered what it would have been like if her mum had been the one to teach her all the things she learned at school.

It was at this point of time that someone knocked at their compartment. A grown-up witch pulled the door open. "Hello, my dears. Would you like to buy some snacks?"

"Hello!" Mary answered and leveled her head slightly.

"Hello," echoed Hermione.

"I'd like a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans." Mary requested. Looking at Hermione she asked, "Would you like something? My treat."

"Thank you but I'll pass." Hermione added, "My parents are dentists."

Mary looked at her in confusion, "Um, I'm sorry?"

"You don't need to be sorry!" Hermione exclaimed taken aback. "I... they..." She glanced at the witch with the food trolley. "I'll explain it in a minute."

"Okay," Mary turned back at the grown witch, "And two chocolate frogs, please."

The witch with the food trolley held all three items out to Mary, who did not budge from her seat. Hermione understood the problem before the witch said, "That makes six Sickles and sixteen Knuts."

Mary nestled on her weird little handbag. It was made out of a white cloth that looked a bit like white silk. Shiny pearls were sewed to it – they looked almost real. The weird thing about the bag was the seven knots that held it closed though. Mary untied two of them and pulled a small pouch from her handbag. She carefully counted seven silver coins into her hand. Meanwhile, Hermione stood up and accepted the three items the witch still held out to them. Since she now just so happened to stand in between the two other witches, it had kind of became Hermione's responsibility to hand the coins over and the change back as well.

"A nice trip my dears." The witch said before closing their compartment door and pushing her trolley out of sight.

Mary smiled gratefully, "Thank you, that was very nice of you."

"Don't mention it!"

"I bought the chocolate frogs for you," Mary explained pushing the two card boxes back at Hermione when she wanted to hand them over. "And we can share Bertie Bott's Beans."

"That's nice but I'm not supposed to eat any sweets."

"Why not? Are you allergic?" Mary asked in a horrified manner only a young child was capable of in this context.

"No. My parents are dentists." Hermione repeated her earlier statement and explained in cautious words what her parents were doing for a living.

"That's horrible! Your parents would do such things to you?"

"It's better than toothaches!" Hermione clarified. "But I'm brushing my teeth regularly and that's why I don't need them to do much about my teeth anyway."

"Why don't you use the teeth-cleaning spell?"

"There's a spell to clean your teeth?"

"Naturally!" Mary showed off her white teeth. They were in no way inferior to Hermione's. "Mummy taught the spell to me so I wouldn't have to rely on others with it."

Hermione looked guiltily at the two boxes with chocolate. "But I promised."

"And I promised to tell nobody about the hat,"

A very welcome realization dawned on Hermione. She was morally required to eat the chocolate frog! "Fine. Each of us eats one."

"You go first," Mary said with a smile.

The box was almost open when Hermione hesitated. "There is no real frog in there is there?"

Mary's shuddered in disgust. Hermione watched the new emotion unfold on Mary's face in fascination, "No! That would be... gross!"

Cautiously, Hermione opened the box. She squealed and pulled both hands in front of her face when she saw the brown frog. She expected it to jump at her but luckily it aimed for the window. Hermione took a closer look at it. "It's made out of chocolate!"

"James loves Chocolate Frogs," Mary said wistfully. "He makes mummy enchant them so the hunt becomes more exciting."

"And what about you?"

"I can't hunt Chocolate Frogs. I'm blind. And I like Bertie Bott's Beans better than chocolate anyway." Mary explained, "Has the frog gotten away?"

"Yes, it jumped out of the window." Hermione slowly got used to the thought of Mary being blind. She didn't seem to be bothered by it of itself. It was probably more the fact that she had to impose on other people all the time.

"Good thing I bought two of them," Mary said with a small smirk.

This time around Hermione did not allow the enchanted frog to get away. It stopped moving rather sooner than the other. She waited until well after it was completely still. Biting into it while it was still struggling was out of the question! She was not an expert by any means but the chocolate tasted nice.

"Which cards did you get?"

"Cards?"

"Under the chocolate frogs, there is always a card of a famous witch or wizard," Mary explained. "Between the three of them, Neville, Harry, and James ought to have every cards there is. But since none of them do, they can swap back and forth on rainy days." Mary smiled upon telling Hermione this. "So? Which one did you get?"

Despite her school books Hermione still had a hard time getting used to moving pictures. Even more so because these were no sketches but life-like portraits. Her cards showed two witches. One of them looked sternly at her - the other cheerfully. Hermione read their names out, "Rowena Ravenclaw and Helga Hufflepuff."

"Oh! I think those are not very rare."

Hermione stared long and hard at the cards. An idea formed in her mind, "Here, you can take Helga Hufflepuff and I'll keep Rowena Ravenclaw."

"I don't collect the cards." Mary lifted her hands in rejection.

"We can both safe-keep the cards to remember the day we became friends." Hermione bit her tongue - why did she have to say something like that? She felt pathetic.

"Oh, I like that!" Mary exclaimed holding out one hand.

Hermione could not stop herself from smiling. Even more so as Mary was smiling as well.

They ate Bertie Bott's Every Flavor Beans. The box was more than sufficient for them. At one point Hermione wondered whether new sweets appeared every now and then since there shouldn't have been so many beans in the smallish box. But maybe that was because they talked and laughed a lot with each other and stopped eating regularly when they spoiled their appetites due to a not-so-tasty bean.

The lights in their compartment came alive. It was becoming dark outside. Hermione wondered aloud, "When are we supposed to put our uniforms on?"

"Mummy said we are supposed to wear them when we arrive in Hogsmeade."

"So we change when we want to?"

"That's how I understood it," Mary confirmed.

"How about we change now?"

Mary nodded eagerly, "Yes, let's do that,"

The first thing Hermione did was change out of her shoes. Then she climbed onto her bench and stretched her arm to reach her trunk on the rack above her head. She had placed a complete uniform on top of everything else which she could now pull out. Once she had everything she wondered where Mary's trunk was, "Where is your trunk?"

"I've got no trunk," Mary was busy opening knots on her handbag. Of the seven, this time Mary undid six. "Everything I need is in here," she said and pulled a folded uniform and a black cloak out of her small handbag.

"Your uniform can't fit in there! How did it fit?" Hermione felt dizzy.

"Oh, don't worry, my bag is bigger from the inside than the outside."

Hermione's very intelligent response was, "Huh?"

"All the things I need for school are in here." Mary patted her handbag.

"That's not possible."

"It is. That is, if you know the right spell."

"There is a spell to make the inside of something bigger than the outside?" Hermione asked in amazement.

"Mummy said we'd learn it in the seventh year." Mary reported, "Most wizards and witches are not very good at it though. A craftswizard would usually cast such a charm. But this one was cast by mummy. She's not only very smart, but she's also very skilled." Mary announced proudly. "But I packed my bag all by myself."

"Mum only checked my trunk." Hermione offered. And she had removed most of the books Hermione had wanted to take with her.

"Mummy said: 'A witch packs her bag on her own'." Then she giggled mischievously, "And right afterward she'll check the bag of her wizard."

Hermione was so surprised she nearly choked on her own giggle. Maybe Mary's mum wasn't as demure as she initially thought.

They slipped into their respective uniforms. Halfway through buttoning up her blouse, Hermione checked on Mary to find out how much help she would need. She was just in time to watch Mary's fingers swiftly search her cloak for the upper end. She found the collar quickly and slipped the fabric elegantly around her shoulders.

Once they were in their uniforms, Mary held a golden highlight comb out to Hermione. It had an unusually low number of teeth but they looked especially stable, "Could you comb my hair? I'm not very good at doing that."

Hermione was used to messy hair thanks to her mirror but Mary's hair had turned into a nightmare! It had more resemblance to a bird's nest than anything else. She expected a tedious task and thus was positively surprised when she noticed how easily the comb slipped through the black mane of hair. "A magical comb!"

"Mummy made it for me!" Mary announced happily. "She says I inherited daddy's unruly hair. It gets messy easily."

It was only a few strokes to finish the combing. Once Hermione noticed that she was able to easily create waves if she angled the comb, she almost managed to restore Mary's perfect hairdo.

Hermione eyed her own reflection in the window, "Could I use the comb as well?"

"Sure,"

There was only the question of hygiene, "I can smell your shampoo and I showered this morning too. I think it's alright to share for once."

"If you say so," Another happy smile was plastered onto Mary's face.

Hermione combed her own hair faster than ever before. Her bushy brown hair turned into a dream of molten hazel.

Still deeply impressed Hermione turned the comb curiously in her hands. A life-like doe formed the contours. The longer the young witch stared at the comb the more she thought it would soon come alive. She noticed very small marks on the teeth. "What kind of signs are these?"

"On the comb?" Mary asked and answered without waiting for Hermione for confirmation, "Those are Ancient Runes. They can be used to enchant stuff. This way you won't have to recast a charm. Some of those signs separate the hairs, others make them sleek." Mary said, "But I don't know which are responsible for which."

"Runes!" Hermione whispered in awe. "I read all of our school books. There are no runes in our first year. Do you know when we'll learn about them?"

"I asked mummy and she said we'll be starting on them in our third year." Mary stretched her hand out and Hermione gave the comb back. Her fingers traced the outline of the doe.

The two witches resumed their discussion. Hermione noticed a lot of students running through the train. Some looked into their compartment. None bothered them until an older student pulled their door open imperiously. "Oh, you've already changed!" he exclaimed sheepishly.

"How is that any of your business!" Hermione snapped at the noticeably older boy. She had been shocked herself but Mary had actually ducked her head!

The boy was about to tell her off, but then he frowned and turned red. He hastily explained, "I'm a prefect! I'm only telling everyone to change into their uniforms. I'm not here to spy on you or something like that! We'll be in Hogsmeade in the quarter of an hour!"

Hermione frowned "Why didn't you just say that in the first place?"

"Sorry about that!" He looked sheepishly at her, "Just leave your trunk here.

"And knock next time!" Hermione huffed at his retreating back. "What a ruffian!" After spending her entire day with the well-mannered Mary, she had somehow forgotten about her previous experiences while roaming the train.

"Hermione?" Mary asked shyly, "Could I ask for a favor?"

"Certainly."

"Could I go to the castle with you?" All of a sudden the pretty witch switched from a normal talking speed to a rush, "This-way-Neville-wont-have-a-small-girl-clinging-to-his-arm!"

"It will be my pleasure!" Hermione said smirking to herself.

"I'm sorry for being such a bother. I really am!" Mary almost whined.

"It's okay. I mean it really is! We're friends after all. And friends help each other." Hermione felt so good. She had always wanted to say those words!

"That's true." Mary dimpled.

A/N: Sometimes small changes can have a serious impact. Flashx11 made some of those changes for this chapter.