As Hermione was sitting in her compartment on the train she felt very nervous. She was going to a school she had never been to before, and that neither she nor her parents even knew existed a year ago. But she was looking forward to becoming a real witch! She had learned all the spells and other usefull information in all her books and she just hoped that this would make her prepared enough for the classes.
But now she was in the train, and she did not really know what to do. There was a chapter about the history of the Hogwarts Express in Hogwarts: a history, but that did not help her now (even though it was very interesting). All the other children seemed older or they clearly knew each other, which made it difficult to approach them. She had settled into an empty compartment and was rereading her books when she suddenly heard somebody knocking on the door. 'Yes?' Hermione asked nervously. But it wasn't another student, this was an older lady. Hermione suddenly worried that she had done something wrong. Perhaps there was something she did not know because her parents were muggles?
But the lady smiled, pointed to a trolley and asked 'would you like a snack dear?' 'Uhm, do you have anything sugar-free perhaps?' Hermione responded. She had the feeling her parents wouldn't like it if her first wizarding purchase would be the start of a cavity. 'Hmmm' the lady said, while her eyes were searching the trolley. 'Then I only have ice mice, but they are quite good.' 'I'll have three' Hermione responded and she paid the fifteen knuts the lady asked for.
After the lady had left Hermione was alone in her compartment again and she took a good look at her newly acquired sweets. They looked like white mice with sparkling black eyes that seemed a little bit too much alive for Hermoines taste. The whiskers of the mice were vibrating softly, but the mice were not moving otherwise, even when Hermione poked one with her finger. He felt soft and, reassuringly gummy. Still she could not shake the feeling that they seemed somehow alive. She thought that she preferred the look of muggle sweets, that at leest clearly were sweets. But she carefully lifted one between two fingers, took another good look, thought 'well, here it goes' and put it in her mouth.
Hermione first thought the ice mouse tasted like any regular mint, but soon it started to chirp and squeak in her mouth like a real mouse. Hermione withstood the urge to spit it out and tried to enjoy the frizzy sensation. Slowly she started to appreciate the combination of spark and mint and when she swallowed the last remains of the mouse she enjoyed the tingles she felt along her spine.
As Hermione indulged in her other ice mice during the train ride (in between searching for some lost toad and talking to some terribly unprepared boys) she felt good and hoped that the rest of the magical world would be as good as the ice mice.
Sadly, Hogwarts was not all Hermione had hoped it would be. The classes were interesting, even though she did not find them demanding enough, the castle was beautifull and she kept having this feeling like she was visiting some extraordinary monument, but Hermione soon found out that she and her roommates had nothing much in common beside the fact that they were roommates. She tried talking to some other girls, but they did not seem interested in making friends, and some girl named Pansy even told her very rudely that she did not want to become friends, acquaintances or allies (seriously, those were her exact words).
Hermione wrote her parents, who told her to keep her hopes up, to give it time, to be patient, to be friendly to the other students and that she would find some friends eventually. The result just was that Hermione became more homesick with every letter.
After four weeks and three days of miserable loneliness Hermione had reached some kind of boiling point. She had talked to professor McGonagall on two separate occasions to tell her that she was lonely and homesick, but her head of house did not seem to have any ideas that made Hermione feel better. Hermione secretly wondered wether the professor had discussed the issue with Hermiones parents, because their ideas were very similar. Hermione did not feel as if she could be patient for a single day longer, let alone the indeterminate time her parents and the professor had in mind.
So Hermione desperately decided to go to the highest authority in the castle, professor Dumbledore. He had seemed quite nice at the welcoming feast. When she approached his office she soon found out that she needed a password, or the rude gargoyle would not even let her pass! This was the straw that broke the camels back and Hermione started to cry. 'Please, let me in, I am feeling so lonely and I don't have any friends! You are the first thing that is even listening to me today, the other students only nod and walk away. I feel like I should have gone to a normal school, the only thing that is good about the magical world are the ice mice.'
After the last sentence the gargoyle suddenly turner around and Hermione was able to walk into the office of professor Dumbledore. 'Hello' he said 'what happened to you?'
'Uhm' Hermione mumbled, suddenly a bit shy, 'I don't really like Hogwarts. Well, I like the classes, but I don't have any friends and I am homesick.'
'That is a problem' Dumbledore answered, 'having good friends is one of the most magical experiences. How about we have some ice mice and you tell me about your experiences so far, perhaps we can find some solutions together.'
After Hermione told about everything that had happened (and after she had eaten five delicious ice mice) she felt calmer and happier. Professor Dumbledore told her that her problem was a difficult one, because the only solutions was to wait for her to find friends. He did suggest she could join some of the clubs and societies and that she could always come to his office to have some ice mice. Hermione did join the gobstonesclub, and it helped a bit, but she would have to wait for the two boys who would save her from a troll to make real friends. But until that point she could at least indulge in some ice mice with the headmaster from time to time.
AN: This story was written for the Russian Roulette challenge, with the prompt Ice mice.