Disclaimer: I do not own anything, just a few OCs.

Where Loyalty Lie

"Do you trust me with your life?"

*On Witch Hunts*

17th Century, England

[Hermione]

"Run. Run. You have to run. Run far away from your family, from your friends and from your love ones, from your enemies. You have to live, survive this madness those traitors had brought to our blood, to our beliefs. You are the last of our blood. Stay alive, stay alive, my dear, sweet Hermione"

That dream, again—a dream that never even happened in real life. That dream, I've been having it since I was six. It's always the same—always the same words and it's everything I've remembered from it ever since mother died. Mother died for my sake— murdered in front of me by those dreadful muggles, seven years ago when I was six. Now, I'm here wandering lost in the world. This world ruled by dark magic, all because of that ambitious monster I-so-called my father, Salazar Slytherin. Salazar Slytherin, the friend and co-founder of that wizarding school my mother loves so much.

Yes, I'm the unwanted child of Salazar Slytherin from Rowena Ravenclaw. And, I am the half-sister of Helena Ravenclaw, who betrayed mother's faith when she stole mother's precious diadem—for her own selfish deeds. Mother doesn't favour any of us but I do not know why my sister did what she had done. I haven't really met Helena myself. I was hidden away by Rowena, before Salazar Slytherin knew I was in her womb, all because of Salazar's dark ambitions. I— being his heir have a greatness borne within. I do not want to follow his wicked footsteps. I do not believe that only pure-bloods should live in this world. For I, have lived within the confines of the muggles, in a guise, for the past ten years. I came to understand why they have started this rubbish they so-call a witch hunt— burned us in stakes—which did not work because of the flame-freezing spell Wendelin the Weird used. But eventually as time went passing by—they, these muggles, resulted to more brutal measures, hanging us to death and beheading. Mortal death was the only thing that kept us witches and wizards to stay alive among this world.

These past ten years, ever since I was three, I have been with Sir Godric Gryffindor—mother's other friend, and learned magic with his ways. He eventually asked me if I would want to study at Hogwarts which he and three others have started. I often declined his offer to go due to circumstances of meeting Helena—my older sister by four years and Salazar. By mother's wishes, Sir Godric kept my existence hidden together with Lady Helga Hufflepuff. But by the time of age, when I was allowed to enter schooling for wizards and witches, Salazar Slytherin had left the confines of the castle. I was thirteen at the time, a passable second grade student of Magic.

Hogwarts was very different at that time. The Great Hall was not that full but it was satisfying. Four large-elongated tables stood in parallel with each other and banners of Red and Gold, Silver and Green, Blue and Bronze and Yellow and Black—hang up high in the ceiling which was enchanted with the night sky. Huh, funny, now that I think about it Rowena could have enchanted it that way, I smiled.

"We welcome you fellow witch and wizards to another year here at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. As you have all noticed, two of the seats up here at our table have been left empty. Our dear friend, Rowena Ravenclaw —Headmistress of the Ravenclaw house have died due to an—illness, six years ago."

Lies, she did not die of illness. But I knew they had to keep it a secret, for it would be troublesome if the whole lot knew how Rowena was murdered. Such tragedy, I sighed. I listened again from behind the great doors with the other students—who also wished to enter this school too.

"And, Salazar Slytherin, Headmaster of the Slytherin House, have left by his own wishes to search the world and live his life to the fullest, but do not dread on the missing—we would still have a bountiful year, of course" with that Godric laughed heartily along with those others studying here already. He clapped his hands and the door I was looking from swung wide open. I was greeted by flashes of light from the bright lightened room—The Great Hall.

"Let the sorting begin!" claps sounded the whole hall.

We were ushered inside by a student who was in dark robes with matching red and gold tie. He must be a Gryffindor. I smiled. I really admire Sir Godric because of his bravery and passion. We walked in the isle, whispers were heard from left to right, and then we stopped in front of the table where Sir Gryffindor and Lady Hufflepuff sat.

The sorting— it's the very much anticipated time of the year. Every year new students were chosen to study here at Hogwarts. Of course, Hermione have been chosen before but this would be the first time she would ever be sorted.

The students who wore newly made black robes came to a stop when they finally reached the front. With awe and hush whispers they watched the majestic interior of the hall they've just entered. In the front, there sat a three-legged stool, a stool where in a wizard's hat was placed atop. The hat was a bit old, dark in colour and had some patches here and there, that from this point of view it wasn't so special. Questions in whispers soon emerged among the new entrees of this wizarding school. Some were asking if they were supposed to wear it. Some whispered that the sorting was the scary bit in entering this school. Some told stories on how their brothers and sisters were sorted; some said students were given task by the founders to know which house they would be in—best exemplifying the qualities needed in each houses. Hermione listened to every one of those and was curious as the others. Though Hermione was new as well, she only had one question in mind? How was this supposed to work? Well, I can't doubt what the four founders had found—it'd be magical for all I know. She thought to herself. She stood there quietly, curiously watching the hat that was perched on top of that ordinary looking stool.

Hearing the soft scrape of a chair, Lady Helga Hufflepuff stood. She, with her bright canary yellow robes and fiery orange hair bundled up, slowly walked down to the platform in front of the faculty table—a roll of parchment in hand.

And when she came to a stop, just the right of the stool and the hat, she spoke. "As I call your name, you are to sit in this stool and be placed with the hat. The hat would sort you to your respective houses" She said with her high bubbly voice. Ah, yes, Lady Helga Hufflepuff—such a sweet and kind lady. For years that little Hermione been with her she have learned to love everything, everything but that Slytherin. She knew that she shouldn't do that but, she was woken up by the dark and can't turn back from it. It was such a sad fate to even loathe your own birth father. Hermione sighed as she reminisced the time she was with her. She felt like a second mother to her, like Rowena her true mother did. She loved Lady Helga Hufflepuff so very dearly.

Hermione's ears suddenly perked up by the sound of singing. Odd, where did that come from? She looked up in front and saw the hat moving its lips. It has a lip. Bloody hell! It's amazing! She thought as she widely smiled. Ah, such wonderful magic.

"Oh you may not think me pretty,

But don't judge on what you see,

I'll eat myself if you can find

A smarter hat than me.

You can keep your bowlers black,

Your top hats sleek and tall,

For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat

And I can cap them all.

There's nothing hidden in your head

The Sorting Hat can't see,

So try me on and I will tell you

Where you ought to be.

You might belong in Gryffindor,

Where dwell the brave at heart,

Their daring, nerve, and chivalry

Set Gryffindors apart;

You might belong in Hufflepuff,

Where they are just and loyal,

Those patient Hufflepuffs are true

And unafraid of toil;

Or yet in wise old Ravenclaw,

if you've a ready mind,

Where those of wit and learning,

Will always find their kind;

Or perhaps in Slytherin

You'll make your real friends,

Those cunning folks use any means

To achieve their ends.

So put me on! Don't be afraid!

And don't get in a flap!

You're in safe hands (though I have none)

For I'm a Thinking Cap!" [1]

The song had ended and it was given applauds. Everyone, including Lady Helga and Sir Gryffindor were broadly smiling.

"Now that, this hat had sung, we shall begin" said Lady Hufflepuff with a smile. "Black, Bellatrix"

A girl with long black hair walked in front, her figure stood firm and strong, she must have known where she would be sorted. Bellatrix walked in front and sat down on the stool, Lady Helga placed the Sorting hat, barely sitting on the girl's head when it suddenly shouted the name of Slytherin. Hermione cringed at the name, remembering how stories about her father were told to her. The girl, Bellatrix, walked happily down the stool and towards the table of where the other Slytherins sat. She must be from a pure-blooded family. Who are the Blacks?

Names were called after her; two other Blacks followed her to the Slytherin table; they must have been her sisters or rather cousins.

"Bones, Susan" "Hufflepuff!" claps from the Hufflepuff table emerged.

"Burke, Millicent" A large girl went to the front and sat down. The hat, also barely touching her head gave out "Slytherin!"

"Crouch, Barty!" this boy, looked like his been grouchy ever since he was born, grudgingly walked to the front, the hat sat on him for a few minutes and then it burst of the name "Slytherin!" and soon more other followed him.

"Flint, Arman" sorted to Hufflepuff. "Greengrass, Daphne" sorted into Slytherin.

"Gaunt, Merope" the hat sat on her for a minute. Odd, the girl's lips were moving as if she was talking to the hat itself. Then after a few nerve wrecking moments she was sorted "Slytherin!"

"Grant, Helen" was the first to be sorted under Ravenclaw. Hermione smiled, Mother would be very proud to have such witty students under her house. Hermione also wished to be sorted under the Ravenclaw house, purely due to the hunger of knowledge, but sadly she had to decline it at any cost. She couldn't have her sister finding her here at Hogwarts; it would result to some unwanted conflict. She sighed. I'm so very sorry, mother.

"Gryffindor, Hermione" Hermione's breath hitched. Her head perked up towards the sorting hat, her hands were feeling cold due to her nervousness. Even if she had a clue how the sorting would go, she wasn't that very fond of going up in front, being so new and all. She also looked up at Sir Godric Gryffindor who shifted on his seat as if he was waiting for Hermione's destined house. Now that the Gryffindor name is mentioned, yes, Hermione's surname was his surname as well so as not to put suspicion on my mother's well being. He, Gordric, suggested that Hermione should use his name as her last name so that they or rather she may avoid suspicion from Helena Ravenclaw and Salazar Slytherin. Both were thinking that it would be such a public controversy if Hermione had used either Slytherin or Ravenclaw as surnames. It was alright for her, saying that it was better than to have that surname of Slytherin. If she loathe that name. Hermione slightly looked at Lady Helga and the lady nodded softly. Here goes me.

Hermione sat on the stool, her arms were shaking from the nervousness she's been feeling every since she took the first step up there. The lady slowly placed the hat atop of her. The smell that entered Hermione's nostrils was musky and noted that it was too large for her that she cannot even see a thing!

Then, pulling her from her thoughts the hat spoke softly. "Ah, very difficult, very, very difficult. It seems that you have all the prominent qualities under all the houses— Gryffindor's bravery and boldness; Hufflepuff's equality, perseverance and loyalty; ah! The blood in your veins runs the blood of the Ravenclaws, downright clever, always hungry for knowledge. You would probably be the brightest witch at your time. Tell me, are you related to Headmistress Rowena by any chance?" Hermione quickly shook her head. "Ah, but of course, Lady Rowena has only but one child known of, sorted in to Ravenclaw as well... but curious, so very curious that you have the blood of Salazar Slytherin. Yes, I sense greatness in you, ambitions and the blood so purest."

"Please, not Slytherin, not Slytherin" she chanted under her breath.

"My goodness, not Slytherin, eh? You could pass for greatness; even surpass what of Salazar's works. But it would be of waste if you are to go to either Hufflepuff or Ravenclaw with that greatness." She continued to chant 'not Slytherin or not Ravenclaw'"Very well then, if you are so sure about it, better be ..." Hermione inhaled sharply, waiting for the most anticipated answer of the hat. "Gryffindor!"

Applauds were heard from the table located at the farthest right corner of the room–the Gryffindor table. Fellow Gryffindors shouted and whistle at the coming of their new housemate. Such giddy personalities they have. Hermione smiled widely. I'm begging to like it. Not to mention everyone should be rejoicing for Hermione was the first to be sorted to their house.

"Longbottom, Neville" this boy was a nervous wreck, he was tripping all the way to the stool, but at least he had the wit to walk in front of there. He sat very still on the stool until the hat called "Gryffindor!" and applauses were heard again from the table. Hermione applauded right along with her fellow housemates. The feeling of joy of having a new friend was getting to her, it would seem that these giddy personality Gryffindors have were contagious.

"Is it true? You are the niece of Sir Gryffindor?" asked one housemate to Hermione. Of course, technically Hermione would be Sir Godric's niece and so will she be the niece of Lady Helga. Though, it's better safe to conclude that she was just their relative and not their daughter. Hermione's brows furrowed as she thought of a way to answer.

"Lovegood, Luna" the echo of Lady Helga's voice sounded in the still silence of the hall. Catching the attention of Hermione, she watched the silvery-blonde haired girl walk naturally to the stool. "Ravenclaw!"

"Yes, he is my godfather" She then replied looking back to the one who asked. Hermione then sighed as another set of applause sounded from the Ravenclaw's table.

"Macimillian, Sigmus" —"Hufflepuff!" Hermione watched the sorting once more.

Her eyes then followed a silver blonde haired boy. He was looking smugly, the same expression Bellatrix Black had before she was sorted "Malfoy, Draco " was his name and of course, we'd have a hunch that he'd be sorted to "Slytherin!" Several names followed after, each evenly sorted to either, Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Slytherin.

"Pettigrew, Peter" a chubby looking boy, much chubbier than Neville Longbottom, walked to the front "Gryffindor!"

Hermione's eyes wandered the hall to the rest of the students who were waiting to be sorted, she caught a glimpse of green eyes. Curious, she looked at the boy who had a scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead. He was thin and short for his age. He has this messy look on his hair as if he just got up from his bed to walk in front of the crowed. "Peverelle, Harry" that boy she was looking at walked to the front, hinting that he was almost as nervous as she was when she was called. He sat there as long as Hermione had— by the looks of it the Sorting Hat was speaking to him too, then before he even finished saying something that hat called "Gryffindor!"

"Quint, Jean" was sorted to Ravenclaw. And lastly, fiery red headed siblings were the only ones there. "Weasley, Ginerva" called the girl first, sat on the stool and was sorted quickly "Gryffindor!" her brother, obviously, would be sorted to Gryffindor as well. Hermione smiled. It was good to have a lot of Gryffindors as new friends, she thought.

"Weasley, Ronald" but of course would be "Gryffindor!"

"Now that the sorting is finished, let the feast begin!" called out the Gryffindor's Headmaster— and there were plates of gold and silver platters filled with mouth watering goodness were in front of them. And they ate. They ate to the fullest without knowing what tomorrow would bring and some waiting for the next day when school finally starts, officially.

After the feast, students who wore badges ushered the new first years towards their respective dormitories. The Gryffindor first years entered the stair cases and were greeted by moving ones, courtesy of Rowena Ravenclaw. Amazing—Mother out did herself making them like this. Hermione noted how the stairs moved slowly but with such timing so that each and every stair would lead to a lot of portraits and secret passages.

She took a step forward; side to side with the messy haired boy, Harry, was his name. Harry, the boy who had a scar on his head, looked at her with his gentle green eyes and then he gave a smile to Hermione.

"Harry. Harry Peverelle" he introduced himself. Taken aback by his notion, Hermione paused and then nodded.

"Hermione, Hermione Gryffindor" finally, she replied after a long pause.

"Blimey! So it is true you are related to the Headmaster, Sir Gryffindor" this fiery red headed boy, must be Ronald Weasley, interjected.

"Yes, I am related to him... So who are you?" Hermione asked even though she probably knew him by name and face. But then again, it is quite rude to not to introduce yourself. He coughed in embarrassment and gestured a hand for her to shake.

"Ron. Ronald Billus Weasley, but I prefer Ron. It's much simpler than calling me Ronald and calling me Billus is just plain weird. It's my older brother's name actually" he said. She shook his hands, they were a bit sweaty she said to herself. Really nice. She nodded in acknowledgement of the information said. Hidden, she rubbed her hands on her robes.

"Ron, you are such a git, you can't but in a conversation like that!" Harry turned to Ronald.

"First Years, move a little faster please" came a distant voice.

"That's Percy, he's my other older brother" Ron suddenly commented.

"Really, I couldn't have known better" riposte Hermione.

After a few more flight of stairs and the lot came to a stop. Fascinated, they noticed that they were at the towers. So the towers, this must be our side of the castle. Hermione looked at the ceiling; noting that it was so tall and vast that you cannot even see the outlines of what made it. She then looked up front and saw a portrait towering over them. It was a portrait of a fat lady in a pink silk dress. Newly re-finished painting, I might add. Then it spoke.

"Oh, hello there, young lads and lasses. Oh, hello there Sir Prefect" she said in her bubbly tone. She looks—uh— nice? Then the prefect, Percy, spoke.

"Hello, Lady Fennette, these are the new first years" he turned to the new students. "This is Lady Fennette, she's the guardian portrait of your dormitory. She would be asking you passwords when you enter this room, for this room is exclusively for us—Gryffindors. No one outside our circle should know the password"

"Lady Fennette?" he asked and the Fat Lady said password.

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia" Percy said and the portrait swung open, revealing a hole that led to a small corridor.

"Now, you have to remember that password or you cannot enter your common room" he gravely said. "Come along then" he ushered the new lot onwards.

"Bloody hell, 'S castle is so magical!"

"Of course it would be magical, why would we be here if not to learn magic Ron?" Harry replied in a somewhat sarcastic reply. They went in twos, while Hermione, Ron and Harry falling behind the crowd.

A few short walks and soon they had entered a brightly lit room, completely furnished with a Victorian style hinted on it, a fire place at the side and a few doors to the left and a grand stair case spiralling upwards.

"The girl's dormitory is in the left, the boy's on the right, now off to bed!" with that said; Percy's robes swoosh-ed behind him as he walked out of the portrait hole.

"This is rather nice" someone commented. " Well then, I am off to bed" he said and soon every one followed.

"G'dnight Hermione" Ron and Harry said as they walked up the stairs.

"Good night" she whispered a reply loud enough for them to hear. There Hermione stood alone in that common room; the feeling, even though it was warm something, was telling her that she does not belong in there. Well, that is what she has to prove then. That she certainly belongs to the Gryffindor and not on anyone's house.

[1] Got that from the HpLexicon site. A song sung by the Sorting Hat.

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