Summary:

For Ron and Harry, their years at Hogwarts are not only about passing exams and learning spells. They're going to need their quick wit, their intelligence, and their logic to figure out exactly what's going on at Hogwarts, especially since they don't have their bushy brown haired friend to save them this time. This is the story that tells how different Harry, Ron, and Hermione's lives would be if they weren't in the same house, starting from first year. How exactly would Ron and Hermione get together, when all they are to each other is acquaintances? Story told in Ron and Hermione's POV.

Chapter 1

Hermione's POV

"Hermione, come down to eat," her mum called, taking her out of deep thoughts. She had been lying on her bed, thinking of what the next day would bring. Just a few weeks prior, her father had told her that she got a letter in the mail—it was odd, Hermione thought. She didn't really have friends to actually bother sending her a letter, and even if she did, they could have easily contacted her by telephone. Her parents seemed surprised as well, and were as eager as she was to find out the contents of this letter. She anxiously opened the envelope, knowing that there should be nothing to worry about; it was just a letter, after all. But once she finished reading the letter, she knew her life wasn't going to be the same.

Lots of things happened in those two weeks. A day after receiving that odd letter, a man that had never seen before showed up at the Granger's front doorstep. He introduced himself as Stanley Larson, Wizengamot Council Member of seven years, currently working at the Ministry of Magic. Mr. and Mrs. Granger showed that they were obviously confused, which made Stanley let out a small chuckle. As Mr. Granger was about to shut the door on the stranger, he asked if he could see Hermione. They were even more confused at the fact that this man knew their daughter; Mrs. Granger called Hermione to come to the living room and asked if she knew this man. Before Hermione could answer, Stanley said, "Do you recall a letter in the mail for you yesterday?"

At the end of that day, Hermione had discovered she was a witch. Hermione didn't believe this at first; there was no logical was magic could be real. Yeah, sure, she read about magic in fairytales, but she always knew that it wasn't real. It was absolutely preposterous. Well, at least it was preposterous until the man took out an oddly carved stick from his back pocket and pointed it at a potted plant. He said a few words that Hermione couldn't comprehend, and the plant that was once dead turned slowly formed into its former self. The Grangers couldn't believe their eyes, and once the thought of what this man could do sunk in, they became utterly terrified. He proved, however, that magic or whatever that had been was real, but how could he prove that their little Hermione could do such a thing?

He did prove it. He explained to them what being a muggle-born was, and how it wasn't anything to be ashamed of, especially because he was one himself. He asked Hermione a few questions. He asked if anything peculiar had happened during her growth when she was angry, sad, or scared. This made Hermione think; she remembered in one moment when she was in primary school. Hermione was playing on a swing set, enjoying herself, until a large boy for his age came up from behind her and pushed her off. She fell on her face and was on the verge of tears, and it was obvious to anyone who saw her that she was very upset. The boy was on his highest point, and he was going pretty fast, so he didn't have time to react when something jerked him off the swing in midair. It was rather unexplainable why the boy fell off, but Hermione didn't really want to overthink it like she usually would.

A few days after, Hermione, accompanied by her parents, went to shop at Diagon Alley for her school supplies. She couldn't believe everything she saw at Flourish and Blotts—there were certainly more books there than any muggle bookstore—and there were so many fascinating genres to choose from! She was about to buy all the necessary school textbooks she would need for the school year, but she couldn't help grabbing another book to teach her more about the new world she had entered. After scanning every shelf for nearly an hour, she finally stopped at a book that caught her eye. "Hogwarts, a History" was just the book she needed. She was embarrassed to say she knew nothing about the school she was going to attend in the fall—and this book had everything! It stated when Hogwarts was founded, who it was founded by, it named every headmaster and professor Hogwarts had ever had, and so much more—she nearly begged her parents to buy it for her, and they were reluctant to do so, being it cost 5 galleons…

Since then, Hermione had done nothing but read and practice spells she got from her textbook. It was different handling a wand, she thought, because it was like nothing she had ever done before. She read on "Hogwarts, a History" that underage wizards who attended Hogwarts could not use magic outside of school, so she took the time she had before school started to her advantage and practiced basic spells whenever she could. She felt very fond of herself after she had mastered a few spells in only a weeks' time. There was nothing you couldn't do if you worked for it. As each day passed, the more nervous she became. She heard of pure-bloods, and how some of them could be very judgmental. They were a major reason she didn't want to be sorted into Slytherin. From what she read, nearly every student who graduated a Slytherin became interested in Dark Magic, and that it was a regular occurrence. She had read about every house, and while the other two sounded interesting, she was very interested in Gryffindor. Gryffindor was for brave, chivalrous people, and as much as she wanted to be in that house, she didn't know if she quite met the requirements. The only thing she could do was wait and find out.

The day before going to Kings Cross station had come, and it was all Hermione could think about. She thought about the negative things that could happen, but the positives always won, which was good. She finished packing everything she needed, and had laid out her clothes for the following day. Everything was good and ready for the next day, but was she emotionally ready to go to Hogwarts? She had read so much about it, and it sounded truly remarkable, but what if she was alone? She didn't have friends all throughout primary school, what if it was the same at Hogwarts? What if people teased her because she was a muggle-born? This was one of the few times that Hermione didn't know the answers to her questions, and she absolutely hated not knowing things. It was a good thing her mother called her for dinner, because if she had thought about the topic anymore, she would surely crack.

"Coming, Mum!" She called back. She raised herself from the headboard her head was resting on and swung her legs off her bed. She walked downstairs and entered the dining room, finding her mum and dad waiting for her. There was a bowl of potato salad in the middle of the table, and a plate of cooked vegetables next to it. Hermione sat down, served herself, and began to eat. Several moments later, she heard something ding. It was coming from the kitchen, apparently, because her mother was heading to the oven. After a few seconds, she returned with a large pan filled with roast beef. She looked over to Hermione and said, "Take as much as you'd like, dear."

It was a very quiet dinner. Hermione had listened to her mum talk about how her day went at the office and how her boss had hinted about giving her a promotion. Her dad talked about a rather nasty appointment at the clinic he worked at, which made Hermione lose her appetite a bit. They conversed quite a bit until they realized Hermione was eating with them as well.

"Hermione, you've been awfully quiet," her dad started, picking up a piece of roast beef with his fork. "Have anything on your mind?"

"Well," she said, "I've been thinking a lot about tomorrow. It will be the longest time I've been away from both of you. I don't know if the other kids will like me." She sighed.

"Of course they'll like you," her mum stated firmly. "You're an amazing young lady, and I just know you'll win them over with your brains. Isn't there a house that accepts people because of how smart they are?"

"Yes, it's called Ravenclaw, but it's not the house I'm interested in being in. I want to be a Gryffindor." Hermione said proudly. At that moment, she got up from her chair to put her plate in sink. She returned to her chair, facing her parents.

"What are Gryffindors known for?" Her father asked curiously. He was probably the happier parent when finding out Hermione was a witch. Instead of being different with Hermione or even being scared or disgusted by her, he was still the silly dad she had before any of this magic business. She was very thankful for that.

"They're known for being brave and chivalrous. I don't know if I quite reach those standards." She sighed once again, but with deeper disappointment. Her parents took note of this, and shared a look.

"Hermione," her father started. "Whether you're in Gryffindor, Ravenclaw, Pufflehuff or Slytherin, you're still the same girl you were before you even knew about magic. You can't change who you are and you can't be someone you're not. Whichever house you end up being in, you should know that they will be extremely lucky to have you. Not only will you give them a good name because of your extraordinary grades—but because of your kind heart. I know that you will make friends at school—whether it happens the first day, or the first month—I know you'll make them. I'd be surprised if you didn't. Don't be so down before your first day, you should be happy! Now c'mon, chin up soldier, everything is going to be okay."

Hermione let out a soft chuckle. She looked up at her father with a wide grin and said, "Its Hufflepuff, dad."

Ron's POV

It was the day before he would start Hogwarts, and saying that Ron Weasley was a bit nervous was an understatement. He couldn't stop thinking about it. He had heard lots about it from his older brothers, and it sounded amazing, but he still thought negatively. Was he going to meet anyone on the first day? That's what he was mostly worried about. His older twin brothers, Fred and George, were major pranksters, so they were well known. His brother Percy was Prefect (and he got a bloody owl because of it. How unfair is that?), his other brother Charlie was the best Quidditch player Gryffindor has had in years. He was also worried about what house he would be sorted in.

Gryffindor was for the brave and chivalrous. Ravenclaw was for the smart and clever. Hufflepuff was for the loyal and patient. Slytherin was for the ambitious and cunning. He honestly didn't think he was any of those things. He wanted to be in Gryffindor more than anything in the world—there was only one person in his family that had been in a house outside of Gryffindor, and that was a distant cousin no one really liked. Plus, his brothers would definitely take the piss. 'Hey Ron, how's being Hufflepuff goin'? Yeah, we didn't think I'd be too good either.'

Even his parents were in Gryffindor. What would they do? What would they say? He bet they'd disown him. Even though they'd told him more than a million times that it wouldn't matter whether he was a Gryffindor or not, he still had doubts that his parents felt that way. Each of his brothers (except for Charlie who was in Romania) gave him a little pep talk, helped him in very different ways. A few days ago, his oldest brother Bill had pulled him aside from the family and asked to talk. They went to Bill's old room, which was now his younger sister Ginny's room and sat down.

"Are you nervous for next week?" He asked calmly, placing his hand on Ron's shoulder. Bill was always the calm one in the family. He was probably most like his father; wise and patient.

"A bit," was all Ron replied. "A bit" didn't really emphasize what he really felt, but he just went with it. Bill raised an eyebrow, knowing that Ron wasn't telling the truth. Bill somehow always knew what was on his mind, whether he liked it or not. He probably beat Percy in the long run. Sure, Percy was smart, but he was awfully annoying.. Ron probably liked talking to Bill the most out of all his brothers because he was the easiest to talk to. Bill always knew what to say, he had been through it all.

"I know you, Ron. I know that you're more than a bit nervous. You're going to Hogwarts; it's a big thing. The whole 'what house will I be in' problem, the 'will I make any friends' problem. We all went through it, and we all got passed it. It's no big deal."

"I think it is…." Ron paused. He was about to continue, but Bill spoke first.

"It's not. No one bloody cares if you're not in Gryffindor. You're still my brother. You're still Ron. So quit worrying, alright? You're going to make friends, every boy does. Just talk about quidditch and you'll find a best mate the first night. You know my friend Raymond?" Ron nodded. "I met him the Hogwarts Express. He was about as nervous as I was, but I just laughed my nerves off. We talked about which Quidditch teams were best; it was funny too, because he was an enormous fan of the Chudley Cannons," Ron and Bill chuckled a bit. "Look Ron, I know you're scared. Fred and George might keep telling you that they were the most popular kids in their year and that they made loads of friends in a week—but they're telling you nothing but rubbish. They had no one to talk but each other for the first month! I remember Mum owling me about how she was worried that they were 'anti-social'. They would say in their letters, 'Oh Mum! It's awful here! We're not making any friends, and the homework is why too hard for a pair of eleven year olds!' I felt bad for laughing, mostly because Mum wacked me, but yeah.

"What I'm trying to say Ron is that even though you aren't popular, or if you don't pass your exams, or end up it bloody Hufflepuff—well, we'd be worried—but not ashamed." Bill patted Ron on the back.

"Thanks Bill."

Ron hardly talked to Fred and George about his worries. He knew that they wouldn't really help, and that they'd only joke around, so he didn't bother. He was surprised to know that Fred and George didn't make friends quickly like Ron originally thought they did. The twins were so outgoing and fun, so it was understandable that he didn't expect that. For the first time, Ron felt like he could get back. The twins had always pulled terrible pranks on him and told him things that were enough to make him cry, so why not take advantage of such an embarrassing story? He rushed up stairs to Fred and George's room and barged in, catching them inventing some strange toy.

"Hello, Forge."

"It's Gred to you!" George said, making Fred snicker. "What do you want, Ron?" They said dully in unison. Ron smirked and put his hand behind his back. "Well, I just finished talking to Bill a while ago—"

"Oh please, Ron, don't tell us another story about Patricia Clancy, his 5th year crush again—"Fred said whiningly.

"—we've heard about her already from Bill himself, and I really don't know why she tickled his fancy—"

"No! It's not about a girl!" Ron said disgustedly. "It's about you, actually." The grins Ron would always see on his brother's faces began to fade. "What's about us?" They said.

"Apparently," Ron started. "Neither of you made friends until what, the first month of your first year? What happened to making loads of friends the first day?" Fred and George glanced at each other, for the first time, not knowing a witty comeback to reply. "He can't prove that—"

"He read your letters." Without another word, Fred and George stood up from their chairs and shoved passed him to go to downstairs, roaring "BILL!" The whole time. It was really rather hilarious. The embarrassment and the loss for words on their faces, and the anger. Bill probably didn't care about what Fred and George would do to him, since he was much bigger and smarter than him, so Ron was happy nonetheless.

A few days after the whole, 'Why would you betray us Bill? We were winning the war!" argument, which Ron found absolutely priceless, Fred and George had come to terms with Ron, promising they would stop giving him and old rubbish tales since he was smart enough to use their embarrassment as his advantage. They said they we proud, very dramatically, by rubbing fake tears from their eyes and praising Ron for being born.

Bill was going to leave tomorrow, so as a special treat, he said he would take Ron outside to play a game of Quidditch. Ron had always known how the game was played, but he wasn't sure how to play it. All Bill did was test Ron to see what position he was best at. They played in their front yard with Charlie's old Cleansweep and the broom Fred was currently using. He charmed a muggle basketball to preform like a bludger, which did not go well at all, seeing at he nearly broke his arm because he couldn't beat it properly. He was certainly not a beater. He released the charm on the basketball and just tossed it around with him to see if he could catch it while flying in the air. It dropped several times, so he wasn't the best chaser. It was until Ron was protecting the hoops from any 'quaffles' that wanted to go in. He missed a few times, but Bill had to admit to himself that he was going a bit harder because Ron was doing so well. Bill called it a night, and though Ron wanted to see if he was fit to be a seeker, Bill had told them that he already was a good keeper, so he didn't have to worry about it.

After playing with Bill outside, Ron returned his mum said that she wanted to talk to him. It was probably the same topic as most of his family members were talking to him about. It made him feel as if he was some weak little boy who was scared about upcoming events. He was scared. He knew he was. He just hated showing it.

"Ron, come and sit with me." His mum was patting the spot on the sofa next to her, urging him to sit down. Ron didn't really know what to expect when it came to his mother, so he really hoped this lecture wouldn't somehow turn into a punishment. She wrapped her arm around his shoulders and turned to him.

"I've been waiting for this day to come. My last little boy, finally going into Hogwarts—"His mum wiped a tear from her eye. "I remember when you were younger, and Percy was off to Hogwarts, and you kept whimpering, 'I want to go to Hogwarts too, Mummy!' It was so sweet, yet somewhat heartbreaking at the same time. You would always have that lost disappointed look in your eyes whenever one of your brothers boarded the train—I really didn't know how to help you!" She chuckled. Ron really didn't know where she was going. "Tomorrow is the beginning of your life, really. You choose how you want to live it. By the end of your last year at Hogwarts, you'll know where you are." And with that, his mother stood up and left the room.

A/N: This is actually a remake of the first chapter. Re-read the original and I thought I failed with Ron's POV. Please review! I'd really appreciate it:)