Title: First Year

Book: Set During First year at Hogwarts. After chapter ten.

Spoilers: Only up until Chapter ten of Philosopher's Stone.

Warnings: Teenage angst/growing pains.

Rating: T/PG-13. Slight adult-ish theme.

Category: Friendship.

Summary: First in a collection of "Firsts" for Ron and Hermione. Designed to fit into the book canonically. Ron and Harry wonder what's gotten into Hermione and they decide Ron should find out.

Disclaimer: All characters and the universe they exist in belong to J.K Rowling and her publishers.

Author's Notes: I'm new to the Harry Potter Universe and have not really written for any universe for quite a few years. I'm hoping to not be too rusty! And I hope you all enjoy. This is my take on some pesky teenage hormones.

It was any other, normal evening for the students at Hogwarts; Halloween had been and gone and Christmas felt like it was just around the corner. Most of the students were in high spirits at the prospective holidays. One had been more excited than the rest over recent weeks, one Miss Hermione Granger. It was only the first years in the Gryffindor common room on this particular evening. Harry Potter, Dean Thomas and Seamus Finnegan were sitting on the sofas surrounding the fire and sharing various stories whilst Ron Weasley and Herrmione Granger were sitting at a smaller table playing chess together. Hermione was attempting to learn some chess moves from Ron as it was the only thing at which he was better than her. She did not normally mind all that much, she found it challenging to play against him and it helped her to de-stress after all of her studying. Today, however, she could not keep her concentration on the game and was being beaten worse than normal. She kept glancing over at the other boys, fury bubbling within her veins. The three of them were just sitting there, talking and laughing. And Hermione found it highly annoying. She almost felt like she was going to explode from the pressure that was building within all of her blood vessels.

Ron could not help but look at Hermione again. She seemed to be taking ages to make her moves and it was annoying him more than her actions normally did. Since the troll incident on Halloween, Ron had found Hermione more tolerable, however, she was still a know it all who annoyed pretty much everyone. Especially Ron and especially this evening. She kept glaring over at the other boys, making Ron wish that maybe he had not offered to play chess with her. He could have been over having fun with them instead of watching her glare daggers at them. But then maybe she would be glaring daggers at him, too. This was probably the better of the two options. Hermione finally took her move, but immediately started to dart her eyes around the room on a whole. Ron studied her for a moment trying to see what was making her anxious and then studied the chess board. She had made a very stupid move, leaving herself wide open to attack. Ron's brow furrowed at this; he knew she was not as good as him at the game, but she was also not this bad. Something was very clearly distracting her.

"Hermione, is everything okay?" he asked.

She looked at him in confusion for a moment. As she opened her mouth to reply to him, the other boys erupted in huge laughter and her confused look was replaced with one of anger. And it was directed at Ron. "What's it to do with you?" she demanded, her eyes narrowing.

"Umm," Ron suddenly felt very, very scared. "It's just that... you, er, you're not playing your best."

Her eyes narrowed even further at him. Ron truly believed that Hermione was the one student in all of Hogwarts that could perform magic with just her thoughts, or her eyes. Sometimes, she scared him more than Snape did. "Just because you're the best at it, Ronald," she spat his name out as she stood up. "Doesn't mean I care!"

The other boys in the room fell into a hushed silence, Seamus turning around to watch yet another Weasley-Granger fight. Harry and Dean each leaned slightly to one side, to have an unobstructed view of the warring pair around Seamus. It had become quite the thing to watch, despite its regularity no one had really got bored of them yet.

"What the bloody hell, Hermione?! I didn't mean that." Ron answered exasperatedly. "Look at the board, you're wide open to attack." He remained sitting, trying to actually prevent an all out argument with her.

"I don't care!" she demanded through gritted teeth and then did the unthinkable. With both hands, she flipped Ron's cherished chess board over; the pieces scattering all over the floor. Before Ron could shout at her, Hermione stepped away from the chair she had been sitting on and turned around, facing the other boys. "And you three!" She threw her arms into the air and let them fall back down to her side. "I can't believe that you're just sitting there. Argh, you're all so frustrating!" And with this she stormed off upstairs. Everyone winced when they heard the door slam behind her.

"I think the whole school heard that," Harry remarked.

Ron stood up from the table, looking miserably down at his chess board. "She's crazy that one."

Just then, Fred and George Weasley entered the common room each using one arm to prop up Neville Longbottom, another first year Gryffindor, a very clumsy first year Gryffindor. He was forever getting into some bind and people had already given up trying to imagine what scrape he would get into next. They would definitely have heard the door slam and could see the scattered chess board. Both twins started shaking their heads.

"What have you done this time?" Fred asked, letting Neville go and the first year stumbled over to the other boys.

"Upset Hermione again?" George asked. Both twins crossed their arms still shaking their heads at their younger brother.

"Me?" he questioned, carefully stepping over his beloved chess board and pieces. "She just lost it!"

"She's been acting weird all day," Seamus commented.

"Yeah," Dean agreed. "She was late for potions today and she didn't seem to care."

"Her hair's been wilder than normal," Neville added in, finally sitting down on a seat, but more falling backwards into the chair. Relief crossed his face.

"And after Snape shouted at her after class," Dean started, "I saw her cry in front of him."

Everyone turned to look at him, no one believing that Hermione of all people had cried in front of Snape, of all the professors. Fred spoke first. "How did old Snapey take that?"

Before Dean could answer, Harry spoke. "This isn't like her. I'm worried," he admitted.

"Me too," Ron whispered, approaching the group further.

"One of you two should go speak to her," George advised.

"Yeah, see what's wrong," Fred added; both twins sniggered as if there were a secret they were keeping.

Ron and Harry looked at each other. They both knew that the twins were right. Hermione was acting very out of sorts and they were her best friends. In fact they were her only friends so they should try and be there for her. But both had been on the wrong side of Hermione before; Ron more so than Harry. Neither of them made a move towards the girls' dormitory, both of them scared about how she would react and if they would get out alive. Minutes passed with no one making a sound or movement before Harry finally suggested a game of Squid, Troll, Fairy. Harry had cottoned on to the game quite quickly as the rules were similar to the muggle game Rock, Paper, Scissors. It was the game he would occasionally play with Dudley. Dudley always refused to allow his cousin near any of his proper games (fear of his weird cousin damaging them), but would play Rock, Paper, Scissors with him. Except no matter which he picked, Dudley always won and Harry hated it when he picked Rock as Dudley would always then punch him with his clenched fist. The magic version was a lot fairer. The two wizards playing, would each conjure one of the three as a small, see through almost ghostlike animated figure in their hand. The two apparitions would meet in the middle and either defeat the weaker one or be defeated. The Squid would wrap a tentacle around the Troll, who would swat the Fairy away, who in turn would fly around the Squid until the tentacles were tied in knots. If the players picked two of the same, they would shake hands and then vanish. So they played and Ron's luck was not in for he lost all three rounds.

Sullenly, Ron headed up the stairs to the first year girls' room. It was the first time he had ever been up there and he had never pictured this being the reason he first ventured into forbidden territory. Naively he had thought it would be on some sneaky mission for a romantic rendezvous. Not that he specifically thought it would be the Gryffindor girls' room, but he knew it would never be the Slytherin one. There was not a chance in Hell. For one thing his father would not be too happy, neither would his friends and then there was the fact that all of the Slytherin girls were as scary as anything. Half way up the stairs he paused and hoped Harry would come and stop him. No one came to his rescue or even called him to come back. He felt like a sacrificial lamb and beyond the door in front of him was the slaughter room. He knocked gently on the door and then waited, holding his breath. There was no answer, but after a few moments, he opened the door slowly and lightly anyway. The other girls had all gone to the library and were studying for a history project. Ron and the boys had yet to start, but he knew that Hermione had already finished it. He was safe in the knowledge that even though he was crossing into forbidden territory, enemy territory even, that no one else would find him for a while therefore decreasing his risk of punishment. He hoped that one of the guys downstairs would signal him if anyone did return to the dormitory.

Ron peered his head into the room, noting in surprise that the room had the exact same layout as the boys' dormitory except that on a whole, it was a hell of a lot tidier than the boys'. Despite the tidiness, Ron could still easily see which area was Hermione's. It was markedly tidier than everyone else's. The other give-away sign was that Hermione herself was laying on her bed. He could not quite see clearly enough, but it looked as if she were lying face down into her pillow. But then maybe her bushy hair was just covering her face, Ron shrugged to himself, figuring it did not really matter what way she was lying just as long as she did not lunge to attack him. Taking a deep breath, Ron bravely tiptoed further into the room, not wanting to make any noise.

"Hermione?" he asked very quietly, trying to get her attention.

In response, she yelped slightly, rolled over and sat up. "Ronald!" she replied. "You scared me." She paused and then said, "How did you get up here? Boys aren't allowed in the girls' dormitory."

That was probably the down side to Ron trying to be quiet, but he had not wanted to incur her wrath immediately from the doorway. It had not occurred to him that by essentially sneaking up on her, he could also make her angry. "Sorry," he mumbled as an apology, remaining a few feet away from the bed. "I, uh, walked up the stairs." He answered to her question, slightly confused by her questioning. He knew that he was not allowed in the girls' dormitory, but there was nothing physically preventing him. "You've been crying," he remarked upon seeing her tear stained, reddened face, which looked as confused as he felt. "I'm sorry," he apologised.

"What for?" she sniffed, wiping at her eyes and nose with the back of her sleeve covered wrist.

"For making you cry."

"You didn't make me cry, Ron," she wailed and a fresh batch of tears started falling from her eyes.

Ron's eyes opened wide in fear. He was not used to girls. At home, he only had the one sister and of course his mother around him. His sister never really seemed like a 'girl' to him though and sometimes neither did Hermione. She was not like the other girls that Ron had seen around. Definitely not like the other Gryffindor girls, like Lavender Brown and into fashion and other stuff that Ron could not understand. Fashion and make up and no interest in Quidditch, Ron shook his head at the thought. Things would be simpler if girls were more like boys. He had no idea what to do to make her stop crying or what to say. "What's wrong then?" he asked, tentatively taking a step forward, edging closer to Hermione.

She paused in her sobs to look at him. "I don't know!" she wailed. "I'm just angry. And sad. And tired. I want my mum. And I want some chocolate." She was crying harder now and Ron was feeling more and more out of his depth.

"Um," he paused, "I have a chocolate frog here." He took his last piece of chocolate out of the pocket of his robes and held it out at arms length. Hermione smiled through her tears, sniffed loudly and took the offering from him.

"Thank you," she mumbled.

"Are you just homesick?" he queried. "Because everyone gets homesick. Not everyone gets as..." he tried to find the right word, "moody as you."

"Moody!" She glared at him, standing up from her bed to face him. She threw the chocolate onto her bed and stood, ready to attack, right in front of him. "Moody!" she repeated.

He put his hands up in defence and took one small step backwards for safety. "I don't mean it in a bad way, but you're a bit... moody today."

Her eyes continued to glare at him. And for not the first time that day, Ron felt like she could kill him with just a slight narrowing of her eyes. Before she could say anything else, her face crumpled in pain and she bent over slightly, wincing out loud. Her hands went to her stomach and Ron put his hands out to her, holding both of her shoulders gently.

"Hermione, are you okay?" he asked, genuine concern in his voice.

She shook her head. "I've had a stomach ache all day," she mumbled. "And all I want to do is cry."

"Sit back down," he commanded gently and he was surprised when she did so automatically. He knelt down in front of her, sitting on his haunches so that he could see straight into her face. There was still some pain etched onto her face and tears were still silently running down her cheeks. She had at least stopped sobbing. "Have you tried a healing spell?"

She shook her head. "It won't work. There's nothing to heal." She grimaced again, doubling up and her face got closer to Ron's. Ron thought back to how his mother would comfort him whenever he was in pain or upset. She would conjure some soup, stroke his back, make soothing noises. Ron settled with stroking Hermione's shoulder and upper arm, not knowing what noises he could make that would soothe and pretty sure that any soup he conjured would turn out wrong and make Hermione feel worse. Thinking of his mum though, made his brain start to remember something he had heard her say over the summer. He had overheard a conversation between his mum and youngest sibling, Ginny. As soon as he had realised the nature of the conversation he had tried not to hear it, tried to block it out. The walls of their house were very thin, however, and Ron had learnt a bit too much about 'females' and growing pains.

"Um, Hermione, are you... what I mean is... have you... umm."

"What are you trying to ask me, Ron?" Hermione asked, still trying to curl up into a ball.

He just could not bring himself to say the words that he suspected, despite how simple a sentence it may be. So he opted for explaining what he had heard over the summer, stumbling over large bits of it out of embarrassment and some parts that he had not heard quite well enough as he had been trying to ignore the whole thing. Not for the first time, he wished that he had paid more attention to his mother. "I think," he finished, "that mum was preparing Ginny for stuff that was gonna happen to her, as a girl, I mean." He was bright red by the end of his explanation, his skin tone matching his hair colour.

Despite her pain and own embarrassment, Hermione could not help but smile slightly at Ron's flustering. She nodded, feeling mortified that she was having this conversation with a boy, and with Ron no less. It was not how she had ever imagined it. She had always thought she would have her mother with her to help her and comfort her. She had at least had the conversation with her mother over the summer; each knowing that it would be a solid three months before they would see each other again. "I wish that I could speak to my mum." Ron looked around and saw a box of tissues on the floor next to him and he passed them to her. "Thanks," she mumbled whilst blowing her nose. "I can't seem to stop the pain and I really don't want to go to Madame Pomfrey. It's bad enough that you know. You won't tell anyone, will you, Ron?"

She sounded so helpless and in need that at that precise moment in time he would agree to do anything that she asked. "Bloody hell, Hermione, I'm not that much of a git."

She gave a slight laugh and then grimaced in pain. Ron Weasley was not all that bad, even if he had described her as a 'nightmare'. He had apologised for that and he was trying to help her. "I've been trying a spell to make my favourite teddy warm up. Mum told me that something warm can help ease the cramps, but I can't make it work." She began to cry again.

Without being asked, Ron removed his hand from her shoulder and reached over to a stuffed cat that she had on her pillow. He placed it on his bent knees and got out his wand. He raised his wand and was about to say the spell when Hermione put a hand on his arm, stopping him.

"Ron," she whispered, "that is one of my most prized possessions, besides my books, are you sure you're not going to destroy it?"

He rolled his eyes at her. "I'm trying to help you here, a bit of gratitude and faith is all I ask." She still looked at him doubtfully. He shook his head. "This was one of the first things I ever learnt, all right. It gets cold in the Burrow sometimes and we can't always have the heating on." He blushed again, speaking about his family like that always made him blush.

"Sorry," she mumbled, feeling bad for doubting him. He was a bit clumsy though, especially with these things and if she herself could not get the spell to work, why would she have believed that he could? He cast the spell and then handed her the cat. She could instantly feel it getting warmer and even though it brought her pain no relief she did smile. "Thank you." She held the hot-cat to her stomach and slowly began to feel it spread through her clothing and penetrate into her body. She sighed with relief, hoping that soon the pain would dissipate.

"Better?" Ron asked and she nodded. "Anyway, sometimes if you're under stress or unhappy, spells don't work properly. Especially those to try and help you. The harder you try, the worse you feel and the less chance it has to work."

"Let's hope that I don't have to start coming to you once a month, eh?" she joked, smiling with her eyes closed as the pain did start to subside. "Honestly though, Ron, please don't tell anyone. Not even Harry. This isn't the sort of thing that girls speak about, especially with boys. I will positively die if you tell anyone."

"I promised, didn't I?" he smiled to reassure her. "Don't know what we can do about your bloody hormones though."

"Mr. Weasley!" Ron and Hermione both jumped up and turned toward the door where Professor McGonagall now stood, the door still wide open behind her. "Boys should not be in the girls' dormitory."

"Sorry," he said simultaneously to Hermione's attempts to explain.

Professor McGonagall silenced both of them with a wave of her hand. "Professor Snape informed me of an incident with you this morning, Miss Granger, would you accompany me please? You're not in any trouble, dear. I just want to see if I can help" Hermione nodded, it was clear that Professor McGonagall was used to dealing with first year girls and their problems. Ron stood there, unable to move his legs out of fear of what his punishment was going to be. "And Mr, Weasley," she continued, turning her back to him. "I am going to assume that you are here out of concern for your friend and that alone. I will therefore not punish you for being in the girls' dormitory."

Ron nodded as Hermione moved a step to follow their professor. She paused and turned to him. "Thank you," she repeated and left the room, her toy cat still in her hands and pressed to her stomach. After they had both left the room, Ron realised that he was now alone in the girls' dormitory and he was reluctant to leave. Not because he wanted to snoop around the place, but because he had no idea what to tell the waiting crowd of boys downstairs.

Brilliant, he thought, Hermione was the brains behind the three of them and she had left him with no plan. "Bloody hell," he mumbled to himself, shaking his head.

The End.