Disclaimer: Don't own it!
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He had called her a nightmare.
And perhaps it was that he was the youngest of six boys with only one sister and he knew so very little about girls in general, or perhaps it was that she had bested him; adding yet another name on the ever growing list of people who were better than him…(not quite justifying his actions but making them understandable).
But she was only eleven and more than a little bit lonely so she really couldn't be blamed herself when she ran off crying to the bathroom. And she'd cried and cried and cried because there was nothing else she could do, and she knew that in later days she would think herself foolish and childish because she could have done so much more, could have held her head up at Ronald Weasley's words and shown him she didn't care what he thought of her, that his opinion was worthless to her, but in the days to come she'd ever be secretly glad she didn't.
Because Fate, and she does believe in Fate, has such a way of making things work out in the end.
It was Fate that sent her to that bathroom, and it was Fate that made Harry give her a second thought that night when the troll entered the school.
But it was them, and only them, who silently decided they worked well together.
End