They had met on the train.
He was waiting for his friends and she was looking for an empty carriage. They had quickly settled into a riveting debate; both equal in intellect and wit.
Over the course of the journey, they had quickly become friends. Their conversation was only interrupted once when a boy named Neville had asked them to help him find his toad. As easily, their conversation resumed when she returned.
At the end of the train ride, they had promised to talk to each other, despite what Houses they would be sorted in, though Hermione sensed that he was uneasy about it.
Soon, she found out that though he meant to keep their promise, it meant sneaking exchanges in the Library, at the back of the Greenhouses, never in public view. Though they met often there was always this unsettling feeling that the thread holding their friendship together would snap at any moment.
"No one asked your opinion, you filthy little Mudblood," he spat.
Now, Hermione looked into his cold, hard eyes questioningly. In the background, she could faintly hear Ron shouting. But he showed no remorse for that using that dirty slur. She quickly looked down, knowing that tears were forming at her eyelids.
The thread-like bond of their friendship broke that day.
