Disclaimer: Hermione, Ron, and all the Weasleys do not belong to me. Would be nice if Ron belonged to me but alas. They all belong to JKRowling. GOD BLESS YOU JK!!!! YOU ROCK MY WORLD! And now. On to First Letters..

Hermione sighed, stretched, got out of bed. It was 6:30, but she
wanted to study a little more before she got to school. Dressing and showering quietly, she grabbed her History textbook. When she got down to the breakfast table she was surprised to find her parents, sitting at the table, drinking coffee. "Hello, Hermione." Her mother said fondly. "Off to an early start today?"
"Yes, mum. I just wanted to brush up on History once more-"
"Oh, Hermione. You studied that textbook non-stop last night. Take a break. Have some cereal." Her dad said.
"I can't, Daddy. I've just got to get a passing grade on that test-"
"And you will. Now sit down. Eat." Her father commanded strongly, in what he evidently thought a strong, commanding voice.
"Oh, all right." Hermione never got a chance to study. By the time she had finished breakfast, brushed her teeth and managed to come her hair, it was 7:30 and time to leave. Arriving at school at exactly 7:45 she trudged up the stairs to the school. No use staying in the yard. It's not like she had any friends. She didn't exactly think this sadly. She was used to it. Besides, friends took away from useful study time. When the bell rang, she had found her usual seat and was reading a book. The rest of the day passed as usual. Algebra. Geography. History (she had a feeling she had aced the test). Break. Literature, then Gym. Ooooh, she hated gym. It wasn't proper intellectual learning. All you did was run around, getting sweaty. If you were lucky, someone passed you the ball and then. well. You made a complete fool of yourself by either missing it completely or shrieking as it flew towards your face. She would rather be ANYWHERE than in gym. But if she was going to keep a perfect record in her school of attendance she had to go. And so, slowly, she walked down the hallway, towards the dreaded sound of sneakers squeaking and basketballs swishing through hoops. If only she knew what was going to happen in gym. They were playing volleyball that day, and it actually wasn't as torturous as was to be expected. Up until about halfway through the period. "Hey! Granger!" Hermione turned slowly at the sound of the voice. "Yes, Caroleene?" Caroleene Smith was the most popular girl in Hermione's school. She also hated Hermione. Nobody knew why. "Granger, I needed help with some homework. Witch burning in the 14th century. I figured you might be able to help seeing as how you're a witch." Caroleene was neither witty nor intelligent, and as a result, neither were her jokes. However, the unwritten, unofficial school policy: Caroleene cracks a joke and you laugh. Hermione never did, which perhaps explained their far-from-friends relationship. Everyone else cackled like hyenas. Hermione winced. Funny or not, Caroleene's remark held true with her schoolmates. Hermione had a reputation for being odd. There was just something about her, though no one could figure out what. But that, she reasoned, didn't make her any different that any of the others as a human being. She had feelings. But they never treated her that way. They just sniggered and laughed behind her back, pointing at her, whispering. Sometimes they didn't even bother to lower their voices, or be discreet. And it wasn't fair. The laughter was ringing in her ears, and Caroleene's loudest of all. The joke had been a small, stupid thing, but for Hermione it was the straw the broke the camel's back. For the first time, Hermione realized just how much she hated, hated Caroleene. The girl never left her alone. As a result the school shunned Hermione, who glared, hard, right at Caroleene. And suddenly Caroleene wasn't laughing anymore. She was crying out, screaming! Her hands were pressed to her eyes. She was actually in pain. Caroleene screamed, "I'm blind! I'm blind! It's all her fault! She did this to me! The witch, the witch!" And Hermione knew. Knew that it was her fault. Without thinking, she ran..

Hermione came to with a jolt. I cut school! She realized she didn't care. I am a witch. I know it. How else could she explain the uncanny things she could do. Hermione let herself into the house, picking up the mail at the inside of the door. She sifted through the mound of bills- Dad's not going to be happy- and junk mail until. A flash of green caught her attention. Or was it her name, spelled out in glittering emerald ink? She turned the letter over. An H bearing a coat of arms. A lion, badger.a raven.a snake. She flipped it over the front again. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry? She opened it carefully, fingers trembling. Dear Miss Granger, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Hermione's face registered shock and surprise (what if it was a trick?) before the expression faded into a smile. She was going to take this as it came, no sense in being pessimistic. I knew it, I knew it, I knew it.

Ron Weasley was snoring. He had every right to, of course. It was only 7:00 in the morning. But it was not to be. There was something about Ron's house that implied it was not supposed to be silent. And silence was definitely not held sacred in the Weasley household.
Ron's snores abruptly stopped, as there was a loud explosion two rooms down the hall from his. Ron groaned. "Oh, boy. Here we go." He grabbed the nearest pillow and shoved it on top of his head. Just then, an earsplitting bellow rent the air. "Fred! Give me that! NOW!" Ron snapped his eyes open. There was a sound that vaguely resembled a stampede of hippopotamus thundering past his bedroom door. Well, it's no use going back to sleep now. Might as well get up. He did, or rather, he fell ungracefully out of bed, tangled in sheets, spent a good five minutes straightening himself up. then managed to stumble into a wall as he tried to get dressed. Finally, after a few moments of confusion (was that his sock, or a sleeve?) he opened his bedroom door and cautiously ventured forth onto the landing. He yelped and jumped back inside the doorframe as his twin brothers Fred and George rushed passed him, giggling.
Giggling? That was not good.
He hurried to the staircase and actually survived a few of those
treacherous steps when he had to flatten himself against the wall as a
small, red- no, purple haired blur shot past him bawling, "MUUUUUM!
MUUUUM! Look at what they did!" Ginny leaped off the bottom step and
barreled into the kitchen, screaming all the way. As she entered the
kitchen, the twins sped out, Percy close behind, horn-rimmed glasses
askew, screaming, "GIVE ME THAT! My wand, Fred, right now!!!"
"Sure thing, Perce!" Fred threw the wand at Percy, who ducked, narrowly missing having his head turned into a rutabaga, as was the fate of the lamp behind him. Ron shook his head and continued his decent down the stairs. This morning was only slightly less hectic as any other. He was not to be deterred by both female members of the house yelling, or any other unwanted noise. He was hungry.
"Morning, Mum. What's for breakfast?" "Oh, good morning, Ron dear. Pancakes, bacon, eggs, toast." Ron dropped himself down at the table, Ginny opposite him, and helped himself to a particularly large pancake and two eggs, some bacon and a slice of toast.
"Mmmm. that smells delicious, Mum." Fred announced upon his return to the kitchen. He and George sat down, in between Percy and Ginny. And that was the way of the Weasley kitchen. Purple hair forgotten, wand forsaken, the family sat down to eat. There was not problem Molly Weasley's cooking couldn't handle, no puzzle it couldn't solve. The kitchen was filled with the clinking of knives and forks, until finally, after one last glass of whatever any Weasley's preferred beverage was, the all parted from the kitchen and went their separate ways. In Ron's case, his bedroom.
Upon opening the door of his room, everything seemed to be normal. The only thing different Ron noticed was that. sitting on top of his stack of Martin Miggs comic books was. a little orange ball. He walked up to it. It wasn't a really vivid orange. kinda dull. and it wasn't perfectly circular, either. The roundness of the little sphere was punctuated by serrations all around it. as if it weren't one solid entity (Ron smiled at his obviously unsurpassed vocabulary) but made of small objects packed together. He reached out a finger and poked it. Instantly, to a very horrified Ron, the ball spread apart to reveal that it was actually..
Spiders. Hundreds upon hundreds of tiny baby spiders. Which, of course, didn't make them any less terrifying. Ron shrieked a girly shriek and jumped on top of his bed, achieving absolutely nothing as the spiders were already crawling all over his hand and up his arm. Screaming bloody murder, he flailed about madly, trying to shake the spiders off.
"RONALD! What is going- oh, my goodness!" His mother screeched.
"Look, Ginny!" Fred yelled. "Our Ronneikins is performing some strange tribal dance."
"It's alright, Ronny." George said calmly. "England has enough rain, we don't need anymore."
"You-'' Ron said. It was taking all his strength not to burst into hysterics once more. "you did this! This is your fault!"
"Oh, well spotted." George said. By this time Ron's mum had managed to magic the spiders away and now turned on Fred and George.
"What is wrong with the two of you?!" She cried. The twins looked taken aback.
"Hell, mum, we were only having a bit of fun-" Molly swelled.
"ONLY A BIT OF FUN? For heavens sake, you two! You know your brother's deathly afraid of spiders!" The twins looked shocked. Ginny looked confused. Ron looked like he wanted to be eaten alive.
"He- he is? We didn't-" Fred started. Both boys gave each other identical looks of guilt. "Mum, we swear we didn't know!" But now they did. Ron was horrified. He jumped up and ran out of the room.

"Stupid, stupid twins. Stupid-" Out in the back garden, Ron kicked a rock, and promptly sat down, cursing. "Ow, owowowowoooow-" He flopped onto his back and stared at the sky. "Why me?" Looking straight up, sun glinting into his face, he somehow managed to miss the owl that swooped down and screeched at him. He hollered and jumped up. Not the best idea. The owl, which had been swooping down, now smacked him full in the face. He yelled muffled swear words into its feathers before detaching it from him and snatching the letter from its talons. "GO AWAY!" He yelled. The owl gave an alarmed squawk and flapped its wings madly. "YEAH?! FINE! LEAVE! I DON'T CARE!" Ron called after it, ignoring the fact that he had just told it to go away. He looked at the letter and roughly turned it over, ripping it open, not caring to look at the seal. Dear Mr. Weasley, We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.
Ron looked up, excitement playing across his face. It was here, it was for him. His Hogwarts letter. Finally. He looked back down at the letter. It was all here. September first. He started walking back towards his house. The twins probably didn't know. and him mum hadn't meant to embarrass him.. He paused. Why had he been mad again? He shrugged and ran the rest of the way to the Burrow.

Like it? That was a one shot fic, and my first, so please, please REVIEW!! That'd be great if u did, THANX! I need feed back on how I did! If people request *hint hint* I'll do one of draco maybe? Just give me a character I'll see wut I can do! REVIEW REVIEW!