Courage Is

A/N: Hey guys, this is my first go at writing fan-fiction and sharing it with the world, so I hope you enjoy it! Obviously none of the characters belong to me, and a tiny bit of the dialogue is pinched from the Philosopher's Stone, so all credit for that goes to JKR :)


It was difficult to tell what was shaking more: the train, as it rattled along the tracks gathering speed and getting further and further away from the known and reliable, or Hermione's knees as she made her way anxiously down the train, looking for an somewhere to sit. The window panes clattered in their frames, and Hermione tried very hard not to let her teeth do the same. It's ok, she thought to herself, the other kids here are like you — it won't be like before. She fiddled with the strap on her new carry bag, and tried to readjust the heft of the half a dozen books she'd crammed in. She felt like the only thing stopping her from floating away was the familiar weight of the books at her hip, anchoring her to the ground. An uncomfortable mixture of emotions that was mainly anticipation and nerves, with a bit of excitement thrown in for good measure, bubbled in her stomach, as she made her way past compartments full of students. She peeked through the windows into the tartan-clad spaces at the other kids inside; some were laughing uproariously at jokes their friends had saved up all summer, others seemed deeply engaged in accounts of summer-antics and the showing-off of impressive sunburns or fantastical objects as holiday souvenirs. Finally, she found a compartment with only one person in it: a girl who's dirty blond hair was pushed back from her face with a big pink ribbon. The girl was staring out the window watching the various landscapes flash past light lightening strikes — so Hermione had a moment to collect herself before knocking at the door.

Before she knocked, she took a deep breath and plunged a hand into her jacket pocket, to feel the note her parents had written before she'd left for school.

Darling Hermione,

By the time you read this, you'll be on your way to your brilliant new school to learn wonderful new things. We're so proud of you, sweet heart, and we're so glad for the opportunity you've been given to use the gifts you have. While it might seem scary, remember this: courage is being afraid of something, but doing it anyway. We love you always and forever,

Mum and Dad

She repeated their words as a mantra in the back of her mind, as she took a deep breath and knocked on the door: courage is being afraid of something, but doing it anyway. The blonde girl looked up and smiled to invite Hermione in. Standing up a little straighter, she entered the compartment and offered the girl her hand.
"Hi, I'm Hermione."
"Lavender Brown" The girl replied, looking rather bemused at having to shake hands with another eleven year old.
"Are you a first year too?" Hermione asked, taking a seat opposite Lavender.
"Yep - first time on the train." There was a slightly awkward pause as both the girl watched the countryside slide by. Hermione cleared her throat,
"Are your parents magical?" "Yeah they are; everyone in my family is. Why, aren't yours?"
"No, my parents are dentists - no one in my family is even the slightest bit magical. They didn't even know magic existed until I got my letter."
"Dentists? What's a dentist? And how can you not know what magic is? Didn't strange things just happen to you all the time when you got mad or upset or something? I once accidentally set a girl's hair on fire when she said my nose was crooked."
"Well, I mean that sort of thing did happen - I just didn't tell anyone. One time, I was reading Matilda, which is one of my favourite books, and I was just wishing and wishing that I could have powers like hers, so I started staring at my water glass, and the next thing I knew it was hovering off the table in front of me!"
"Who's Matilda?"
"You've never heard of Matilda! Oh my goodness, it's this fantastic book about this little girl with horrible parents who goes to a school with a positively evil headmistress called Ms Trunchbull and she figures out if she concentrates really hard…" Hermione could see Lavender's attention wavering at her enthusiasm over explaining the plot of the book, and trailed off into another silence.
"So, do you like reading then? I love reading; when I first found out I was a witch, I borrowed every book in the library about magic. Have you read all the books we were supposed to get for classes? I wasn't sure if everybody would know everything else already, and that I'd be starting behind, so I memorised them all over the holidays."
"Err, right. No, I haven't read them yet - I don't like reading much." She was looking at Hermione with a slightly uncomfortable expression.
"Oh. Well, what do you like?" "Quidditch, mainly. I can't really fly at all but I love watching it. My team is the Westham Windfalls - who do you go for?" Hermione was relieved that she knew what quidditch was; she'd read about it in a book she'd borrowed over the summer.
"Um, well no one really. Non-magical people don't play quidditch, so I've never seen a game before." She was beginning to feel a distinctly familiar feeling creeping over her. The feeling she used to get when she tried to talk to people at her old schools, and when they gave her weird looks for reading all the time and knowing all the answers to the teacher's questions. Hermione felt herself crumple a little bit inside.

There was a knock on the compartment door and both girls started. Behind the glass was a round-faced boy with an anxious expression on his face, who looked to be on the verge of tears. He leaned in, and asked in a shaky voice:
"Has anyone seen a toad? I've lost mine. He's green, with sort of knobbly brown bits all over him." The boy gave a terrific sniff.
"Uh, no, no toads in here sorry. What's your name?" Hermione asked.
"Neville," replied the boy, "Neville Longbottom." He wiped his nose with his sleeve, leaving a long smear up his arm. Hermione couldn't help but wrinkle her nose a little, but she felt sorry for Neville. "Do you want help looking for him?" She shot a glance back at Lavender, who didn't seem overly eager for her to stay. Neville sniffed again,
"Sure. That would be great, actually. Thanks!" Hermione turned to Lavender,
"I'll see you at the feast, I guess. It was nice to meet you!" She tried to give her friendliest smile; Lavender smiled quickly and returned to staring out the window. Hermione followed Neville out into the corridor, just as a series of tiny lanterns were winking to life all along the carriage. They squeezed themselves to the side to allow a little old lady to pass pushing a trolley with absolute mountains of sweets and treats heaped on top.
"Anything from the trolley, dears?" She called out as she passed. Hermione and Neville both shook their heads. Hermione turned to Neville and asked:
"Now, where did you last see your toad?"
"Trevor - his name's Trevor." Neville replied, still looking slightly teary.
"Well, where did you last see Trevor, then?"
"He was in my pocket when I got on the train, I'm sure of it - but by the time I'd found somewhere to stow my trunk and sat down, he was gone!" He really was crying now - fat silvery tears leaked out of the corners of his eyes and rolled down his apple-y cheeks. Hermione suddenly felt awful for him - she knew how worried she'd be if she lost her books on a long train trip to an unfamiliar place. "There, there Neville, it's ok. We'll find Trevor - he can't have gone too far." She pulled a tissue out of her pocket and handed it to him, "Here, how about you go and ask in all the compartments along that way, and I'll go the opposite direction; that way we'll cover the whole carriage." He nodded, and walked off in the direction she'd pointed.

She happened to glance out the window as she made her way to the end of the carriage and noticed that it had gotten dark without her realising. Checking her watch, she was alarmed at how quickly the time had passed - they'd be at the station soon! Ducking into an empty compartment, she quickly changed into her new uniform. After donning the neat grey skirt and blouse, and pulling on her brand new Hogwarts robes, Hermione could feel a little bubble of excitement in her chest inflate. There was almost nothing as wonderful as the feeling of a new school year: a new clean uniform, new books to be read, new things to learn, new teachers to meet. She transferred her parent's letter to one pocket of her robes, and stored her wand safely in the other. Courage is being afraid of something, but doing it anyway, she repeated to herself.

The first compartment she knocked on was full of older students playing a game that looked a lot like snap, except that as soon as she opened the door to ask if they'd seen a toad, the deck of cards exploded. A loud bang was accompanied with a flash like burning magnesium and a large amount of acrid, black smoke which billowed up and out the open window. Hermione let out a shriek, and jumped back into the corridor. The students just laughed, rocking back and clutching their sides and she approached the door again and asked, still trying to recover from the shock of the explosion,
"Has anyone seen a toad? A boy Neville's lost one." The students shook their heads, already dealing another round, so Hermione left to enter the next compartment. Just as she was about to knock, Neville came wandering back in her direction, looking dejected.
"Still no luck?" She asked - he shook his head, "oh well, here you can come with me to look."

She could see through the glass in the door that there were two occupants inside. One was a tall, thin boy with a long face, a smattering of freckles across his nose and head full of flaming red hair. The other was shorter, but no less skinny - his black hair was sticking up at all different angles, and he wore a pair of round glasses, held together with sell-o-tape. The two boys were completely surrounded with sweet wrappers, and Hermione could just see the tail of a rather fat rat sticking out from a box of interesting looking jelly beans. She slid open the door,
"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."
"We've already told him we haven't seen it" The red-headed boy replied, but just as he spoke, Hermione noticed he was holding his wand.
"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it then." It still gave Hermione a little thrill down her spine every time she remembered that magic was really, truly, real and she couldn't resist - she just wanted to see as much of it, and learn as much about it, as she could.
She sat down. Ron looked taken aback.
"Er - all right." He cleared his throat, "sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow." He waved his wand, but nothing happened. The rat lying on the tartan seat stayed grey and fast asleep, with a jelly bean between it's paws.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" Hermione asked - she wasn't sure exactly how spells worked, but that sounded to her more like a nursery rhyme than a proper incantation, "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough" She realised she was babbling so broke off abruptly; "I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?" The two boys glanced at each other before replying and seemed bewildered by her introduction. "I'm Ron Weasley," the red-haired boy muttered, "Harry Potter," the other boy replied. Hermione was surprised to discover that she recognised his name - she'd read all about him, and how he'd defeated the evil wizard He Who Must Not Be Named when he was only a baby. In fact, she could just see the lightning bolt scar that split his forehead in two peaking out from under his extraordinarily messy fringe.
"Are you really? I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century." Hermione's cheeks flushed a little, as she realised how important the boy in front of her had been in wizarding history.
"Am I?" Asked Harry, looking dazed. Hermione was confused - why didn't he already know this? "Goodness, didn't you know, I'd have found out everything I could if it was me," she said, and there was a slightly stunned silence from both the boys.
"Do either of you know what house you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad…" She could hear herself starting to babble again, and felt her ears turning slightly pink. Checking her watch, she realised Neville was still behind her waiting to go and find his toad. Harry and Ron were still looking at her, mouths slightly agape, and shooting furtive glances at each other. Hermione's ears burned red now, as she left she said,
"Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon." And with that, she slid back the door and existed out into the corridor with Neville.

By that point, Neville had stopped crying, and he turned to Hermione saying:
"Hey, Hermione, thanks for all your help looking for Trevor, but I should go and get changed now, cause like you said, we'll be there soon." He started to move up the carriage, and waved as he went, "see you at the feast!" "Oh, ok - bye, then, Neville! Yeah, I'll see you at the feast." And with that, she was left standing in the corridor on her own, swaying in time with the clattering of the train.

Just as she was deciding whether to go and recommence her efforts to talk to Lavender, she heard a voice coming from inside Ron's voice coming from the compartment next to her,
"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it."
The bubble of excitement Hermione had felt growing in her chest before, abruptly popped. She could physically feel herself deflating. She stood in the corridor a moment or two longer, before making her way to an empty compartment she'd passed earlier.

Sitting inside, with her forehead against the cool glass of the window, she pulled out one of the books from her satchel: a battered an worn copy of Matilda. Hugging the book to her chest, she reached with one hand into her pocket, and clutched at her parent's letter.

Tomorrow will be different, tomorrow we'll try again, she thought to herself, as she tried hard not to let the tears that were threatening to overflow, leak out the corners of her eyes. She un-crumpled the letter, reading out her parent's message one last time:

Courage is being afraid of something, but doing it anyway.


A/N: Thank you SO MUCH of reading guys! If you're willing, I'd love it if you could leave me a review - every bit of feedback is valuable! Thanks again for your time, I hope you have a stellar day! ~ Your friendly neighbourhood Ravenclaw.