A/N: Guess what? We're almost through the introductory stuff, and it's time to set the ball rolling on the first major arc of the story. Enjoy, my friends.

XoXoXoXoXoX

Dear Father,

By now you will have heard of the Basilisk that ran rampant in the school on Halloween. I am merely writing to set your mind at ease. I was never in any danger, and it was rather quickly killed. Quite a few of the professors still seem worried about something, though I'd imagine it's just because they can't fathom how someone snuck a giant serpent into the school. I must admit, I'm rather curious myself. I have more news to give you, but I'll save it until I return home for the winter holidays. In fact, by the time I'm home, I may have even more to give you.

Your loving son,

Janus Black

Sirius smiled as he read through the short missive. Of course he'd known Janus was alright, but it was always nice to get confirmation from the source. What's more, his son was apparently working his role as spy perfectly. Sirius wondered momentarily about the boy's source, but decided Janus was clever enough to pick a reliable one. He was looking forward to the winter break to see what his son had learned. Thinking of the coming holiday, he remembered his lord had announced his intention to visit. The dark lord wastes no time. This visit must be important, and I'm sure to get new orders. Perhaps it's almost time for the dog to run again.

XoXoXoXoXoX

Dear Mom and Dad,

I'm sorry I haven't been able to write before now, but getting used to wizarding school took some time. Hogwarts is so fascinating! The library here is amazing, with more books than I'll probably be able to read by the time I graduate (not that I won't try!) and on some of the most interesting subjects. I was amazed to read that the witch burnings were almost uniformly harmless to actual magic users. Isn't that horrible? Also…

*six pages later*

I've made a few friends in my year, and two third year boys in my House are friendly to me, though their brother in my year was a prat at first. But honestly, this House rivalry between Gryffindor (my house) and Slytherin strikes me as ridiculous. There's a boy in Slytherin who has been nothing but kind to me, but because his family has… a bit of an unfortunate reputation (that I can't reconcile with his mannerisms at all, I might add) some of my housemates tried to talk me out of being friends with him. We're still meeting secretly in the library, and he's teaching me a lot about wizarding culture. He really is a nice boy, no matter what my housemates say. Anyway, I've got to run to Charms class (remember how we laughed about a class called Charms?) so I'll send this letter off to a department I learned about that forwards Owl post to Muggle mailboxes.

With love,

Hermione

Matthew and Alex Granger smiled to each other as they read the thick letter. They were happy to learn that Hermione was finally making some friends, and Alex couldn't help but smile inside at what sounded like her daughter's first crush. If Matthew was thinking along similar lines, he gave no outward sign, but what father hears a daughter speak with interest of a boy without getting slightly worried? They were both excited for Christmas, when they would see their daughter and hear more about magical life.

XoXoXoXoXoX

Sitting in her favorite armchair in the Gryffindor common room, Hermione was reading a book. This was by no means a strange occurrence, but Ron Weasley walking up to her without people shoving him was. She looked up politely as he approached, though she was still slightly sore about the way he'd spoken about Janus on Halloween. "Hello Ronald." She said by way of greeting, setting her book aside. It was a dreary tome about members of the Wizengamot, and while she enjoyed reading it, she was ready for a break.

"Hi Hermione. I wanted to apologize again for the things I said on Halloween. I never should have said you were only friends with that git Black because you can't make any better friends."

"Don't call him a git." Hermione said immediately.

"Why do you do that? I insulted you, but you leapt to defend him." Ron asked, sitting down across from her.

"Because, you know me. You're right, I have problems making friends. I won't get mad at you for saying something that's true. But you've probably never shared more than ten words with Janus, so how do you know he's a git?"

Ron stared at her for a long time, clearly struggling with something. "That's…a really harsh thing to say about yourself Hermione."

"What is?" She asked, genuinely confused.

"It isn't true that you can't make friends. What makes you think that?" He asked, looking uncomfortable.

"None of the Gryffindor girls really seem to like me."

"I think you should try to find something you all have in common. You probably don't care about fashion tips or anything like that, but you must have some common interests."

"Well, I like my classes…"

"What's Lavender's favorite class?" Ron asked immediately.

"How would I know that?" Hermione demanded, sounding annoyed.

"That's my point, Hermione. When you start a conversation about how much you like Transfiguration or Charms, ask one of them which lesson they liked. For Merlin's sake, we're studying magic here, I'm sure everyone has a subject they like the most."

"Well, what's yours?" She asked timidly.

"Me? I don't know. I like Transfiguration, I guess. McGonagall's a bit too strict for me to really say I like the class, but being able to change anything into anything is pretty wicked."

Hermione started laughing, making Ron blush and glare at her. "I'm sorry, you just reminded me of someone else for a second. If I told you who, you'd probably have a kitten."

"Who is it?" Ron asked, looking at her warily.

"Janus Black! We actually met because I corrected him when he said Transfiguration lets you turn anything into anything."

Ron sputtered for a second before grumbling. "Doesn't mean anything. There're probably a lot of people who think that."

"Mhm." Hermione said vaguely.

"I bet that's the only thing we have in common though!" He declared challengingly.

"Well, Janus doesn't care for Quidditch, so that lends something to your argument."

"See! I knew there was something wrong with him besides who he's related to! Not liking Quidditch…" Ron finished, sounding horrified. When Hermione started giggling, he cracked a smile before chuckling along with her.

"I promise, Janus is just a normal boy. There's nothing evil about him." Hermione said, enjoying the conversation.

"Nothing obviously evil, though I still think not liking Quidditch is a pretty major slip-up in his cover."

They talked until an irate Fred Weasley told them to can it and go to bed.

XoXoXoXoXoX

With a crack, a young man, prematurely grey from his experiences, in tattered robes appeared in his dilapidated shack, tearing open the newspaper he had stolen from a bin in Hogsmeade. He had been lying low lately, not wanting anyone to notice him now that he'd changed locations. Eyes scanning the newsprint quickly in the rising sunlight, he sighed. No stunning reappearance of poor Harry. He thought, pacing. He peered out his doorway for a moment, looking at the forest he and his two best friends had run through once when they were young. I am sorry James. He thought, not for the first time. It seemed that no matter how he tried, his mind went back to ten years ago, when the mistakes he had made had cost him everything. He was a coward. He had accepted that almost immediately back then. First he had lost his faith in the friendships that had gotten him through Hogwarts, and then he had killed two of his friends by his cowardice. Finally, when his chance of atonement had presented itself, he had failed to follow through with it. When he lost sight of his former friend in the explosion of his home, he knew that he had no choice but vanish. The world had no use for a coward, much less one as useless as he was. James had always liked an old poem; one filled with regret, one that he had never understood before that week following Halloween, 1981. But now, he understood it completely.

Wormtail knew regret.

It was almost certainly a mistake to come so close to the Hogwarts grounds. Dumbledore would either give him to the Dementors without a second thought or kill him on sight for what he had done. Not only had Lily and James been two of his most stalwart supporters, but their son had been the chosen one meant to destroy the dark lord. Wormtail had heard the stories in snippets of pub talk, that Voldemort was no more, killed by an infant who had vanished at the same time. But he had been in the dark lord's presence, heard his talk of immortality, and seen the power the man wielded so effortlessly. Perhaps Voldemort had been delayed, maybe even weakened, by whatever had happened that night, but Wormtail knew he wasn't gone for good.

Full moon tonight. If Lupin is still alive, still hunting me, perhaps tonight is the night I get what I deserve. Wormtail thought, as he did every month when his encounters with Lupin grew lax. It had been almost a year since the werewolf had last come upon him in the dark, baying death for his traitorous prey. In the early days, after Lupin's first attempt at revenge, it seemed a month could not go by without a sighting of the familiar looking wolf. It was his continuing survival that Wormtail regretted most. Too cowardly to do the honorable thing and kill himself. Too weak to accept death or infection by his former friend. In the olden days, James had been the genius. The fearless leader in whom Lupin and Wormtail placed their trust. Frank Longbottom had been a friend, though he knew neither Lupin's secret or the transformation they all made every month. Even so, when the group was seen by other Hogwarts students, it was Frank and James their attention went to first. Lupin and Wormtail were the silent companions, neither truly wanting attention, Lupin from nervousness, Wormtail from a lack of worthiness. Who was he to stand beside three prodigies, the slow boy who was gifted at Potions, but not much else? Two Gryffindor golden boys, and even Lupin, brave enough to survive as a werewolf. Where did cowardly Wormtail fit in, who couldn't even stand up to Sirius Black in sixth year when he was confronted about rumor-mongering? True, Sirius was quite a force to be reckoned with, even then, but he had yet to devolve into the monstrous servant of the dark lord he would eventually become. Wormtail had sold out Lupin that day, just to distract Sirius long enough to get away. Then, when Sirius had confronted him again weeks later, he had given him the gift of the Animagus transformation. After that, Wormtail hid behind his friends even more, hating himself for how little he deserved their company. Later during the war, when the Prewett twins were found savaged, Dumbledore had decided it was the work of werewolves loyal to Voldemort, but Wormtail thought he knew better. Whatever had done the mauling was huge, but not as large as a werewolf. A big dog say. Similar to the dog that Wormtail had seen Regulus walking off with countless times during seventh year.

Yes, Wormtail knew regret. Perhaps he had come to the Forbidden Forest in hopes of being discovered, but he thought he was here looking for Harry. For if his friend's son had somehow survived and resurfaced, Wormtail intended his last free act to be one of apology. He owed the boy that much.

Full moon tonight. Wormtail thought again. There had been countless rumors of werewolves in the Forbidden Forest even before Lupin had come to Hogwarts. If his former friend was dead, perhaps one of them would be the instrument of his death. There were many predators in the forest that would gladly eat a rat, even one such as him. But on the off chance he survived a run through the forest, he thought he might wander the halls of his alma mater again. There were many secrets a rat could find while crawling through the nooks and crannies of an old school like that.

Perhaps even redemption.

XoXoXoXoXoX

"I made another friend last night." Hermione said with a grin.

"Oh? Who's the lucky soul?" Janus asked without glancing up from one of the history books Quirrel had given him for his birthday.

"Ron Weasley, surprisingly."

"Really now? What sparked the sudden change?"

"He came up to apologize for being rude to me on Halloween. We got to talking about you and ended up chatting all night."

"I'm relieved to hear I'm such a fascinating figure for young Gryffindors to discuss." Janus said dryly, turning his page.

"Are you alright? You seem a bit distant today."

"I don't care for Ron Weasley, is all. But I'm glad to hear you've made a new friend."

"You're as impossible as he is. Neither of you have really spoken since the Express…"

"An experience that was more than enough for me. I don't mind his brother, the prefect. I've even gotten as used to the Twins as I think I'm going to. But Ron Weasley and I have absolutely nothing in common, and neither of us is in a hurry to find out otherwise."

"He was saying the exact same thing last night. Did you know he plays chess?"

Janus looked up, eyebrows raised. "Is he any good?"

Hermione smiled slightly. "Why? Do you play at all?"

Janus shook his head. "You really don't know very much about me at all, do you?"

"What do you mean?" She asked, confused. Janus was very clever; she'd have guaranteed he played chess. Granted, she didn't, but in the books she read, all the smart characters played chess while they plotted and schemed. She'd guessed Slytherin's common room had several chessboards set up for just that purpose.

"I play chess quite often, usually with Blaise. I'm able to beat him as much as I lose nowadays, which is a departure from when we first started playing together."

Oh. Hermione thought. "Is Blaise a good player then?"

"No, I'm a good player. A year ago I'd have claimed to be really good, but playing with Blaise those first few times made me correct that assumption. He's a great player. So let me ask again: Is Ron Weasley a good chess player?"

"I think so… I don't play myself, you know. But when he plays Percy they play for over an hour, and Ron almost always wins." She answered meekly.

Janus frowned, thinking. I could use the challenge… and it'd be useful to see what kind of strategic mind the next generation of the opposition will have on its side. "Invite him to the library tomorrow, after dinner. I'll see how good he is for myself."

Hermione grinned again. Lip still covering her front teeth, Janus felt a vicious pleasure in noting.

XoXoXoXoXoX

"No." Ron said immediately, downing his pumpkin juice before refilling his plate.

"Why ever not? You're always wishing you had someone else to play chess with." Hermione asked with a sigh.

"Why in the world would you play chess with a Weasley of all people?" Draco asked Janus, staring at his cousin.

"Rumor has it he's a decent player, and losing to Blaise as often as I win has gotten rather boring. Trouncing a blood traitor seems like it would be a fun diversion." Janus said simply.

"Oh! Well, that's all right then. Just don't go getting friendly with him, or your father will kill you."

"Friendly, with a Weasley?" Janus laughed.

"Just because I want someone to play with doesn't mean I'm willing to spend a few minutes talking to Janus Black, Hermione. Why don't you learn how to play, and I'll just play with you?"

"If you play with Janus tomorrow I will." Hermione said immediately.

Ron sighed. "I don't know Hermione…"

"I hear Janus is a good player." Hermione baited.

"How good?" Ron asked immediately.

Do they really not think they're similar? Hermione thought with a smile. "Apparently he plays every day with that Zabini boy."

"Who?" Seamus Finnegan asked, brow furrowed in confusion.

"Blaise Zabini? The dark-skinned Slytherin boy?" Hermione answered patiently.

"I've never heard of him."

"He's in our Potions class."

"He's in our year? I've honestly never noticed him."

"Blaise Zabini's a boy? I could've sworn someone told me that was a girl." Dean Thomas spoke up.

Hermione stared around the table. "I… he was at the Sorting! The last person sorted?"

"I wasn't paying attention."

"How do you remember that?"

"Someone told me he was a blonde girl."

"I need to go lie down." Hermione said, rising from the table feeling dazed.

XoXoXoXoXoX

"My ears are burning." Blaise said suddenly, earning a shush from Madam Pince.

"Go to the Hospital Wing." Theodore Nott advised without looking up from his Transfiguration book.

"Wasn't hexed."

"Then shut up."