Author's Note: This is a story about Ron. If you've read my other fics or heard me discuss Harry Potter on Potter Fic Weekly or the Poufwa Exchange, you know that I have lots and lots of problems with Ron. He's my least favorite character in the entire canon, and that includes all the villains. Why then am I writing a story about him? Because someone has to redeem this boy. He's an A-grade berk in canon and almost all of fanfiction. No one ever fixes the things that are wrong with him. He gets away with half-hearted apologies and never seems to learn from the mistakes he's made. I believe it's because Harry is so desperate to avoid conflict as a result of his upbringing by the Dursleys (the only characters in canon I despise more than Ron), so he forgives Ron when he rightly shouldn't. Sometimes there are things a friend needs to call one out on, and Ron never is. Hermione seems perfectly willing, but Ron doesn't think much of her or her opinions. In fact, he seems to do things that are contrary to her opinions. By the way, constant fighting is not a sign that two characters are meant to be together. The couples who fight all the time don't stay couples; they get divorced. Don't get me off my point. I am currently leading a discussion of the canon where we critique it just as hard as if it were fanfiction. All elements of this story are rooted in the actual text of the canon. If you're going to complain about characterization, you're wrong. This is a story about Ron. I'm not going to bash him, but I am going to be honest about him. If you can't handle that, go away now.

Chapter One - For The Love of Spiders

While Harry Potter was growing up in the cupboard under the stairs at Number Four Privet Drive, his only friends had been the spiders. He'd never had a teddy bear or even a doll, no stuffed toys of any kind. He'd held onto his baby blanket for as long as he could, thrice sneaking it out of the bin when Aunt Petunia had thrown it away. He had a few half-destroyed plastic soldiers that he'd scavenged from Dudley, but spiders were alive and they were very cool. The way they spun their webs was astounding to him. He'd sat for hours on many occasions and watched the spiders at work.

On Platform Nine and Three-Quarters, there had been an older black boy with dreadlocks with a box containing a tarantula. Harry had wanted to investigate further, but he'd been too concerned with getting his trunk loaded onto the train. Besides, he had learned that people didn't like it when he asked them questions. Aunt Petunia had yelled at him and slapped him when he asked questions. Uncle Vernon had yelled at him and threatened to use his belt (though he never had). Sometimes he had to ask, and there was no getting around it.

Now Harry was on the train. The Weasley twins were leaving his compartment, the life and laughter they'd brought in going with them. Harry would be sitting there with a boy who couldn't even introduce himself properly. Ron had been sneaking glances at Harry's forehead ever since he'd come in, so he had clearly suspected who Harry was. Even the starstruck people in the Leaky Cauldron who had fawned over him had managed their names. It would likely be a long and very uncomfortable journey to Hogwarts if Ron were going to gawp at him the whole time. Now was a time when he had to ask a question.

"Hey, George," Harry called. "Do you know the boy with the tarantula?"

"Know him? Yeah, that's Lee."

Fred continued. "He's our dormmate. He's a good lad."

"Do you think I could see it?"

"I'm sure. He's been showing it off all day."

"He's going to get it confiscated if he's not careful," Fred said sagely.

George nodded his head sadly. "We've tried to teach him the art of subtlety, but alas we have failed."

Fred grinned. "You like great, fuzzy, crawly spiders, do you, Harry?"

"Some of my best friends are spiders."

Ron looked like he was about to sick up.

"Well, look no further, Harry, for we will introduce you to the ugliest-"

"-the creepiest-"

"-the most enormous-"

"-arachnid that you ever did see."

Harry grinned. "Lead the way." He glanced at Ron, feeling a twinge of guilt at leaving him in the compartment alone. "Are you coming?"

"Sp-sp-sp-spiders?" Ron said, shuddering. "Not even if you paid me."

"Suit yourself, Ickle Ronnikins," Fred said.

George held the door for Harry. "I'm sure we can arrange an introduction later. A more, shall we say-"

"Personal introduction?" Fred said eagerly.

"Yes, for sure."

"You keep that bloody thing away from me!" Ron yelped. "So help me, if I find that thing anywhere in my dorm, I'm telling Mum."

"Informant!" they exclaimed.

"I will! I hate spiders, and you know it. It's your fault!"

"You broke our toy broomstick, Ron. We were hacked off. It was accidental magic, for the millionth time."

"It took both of you to do that advanced of Transfiguration."

Harry had no idea what that word meant.

"Well, see you around, Ron," Harry said, wanting to get away from the argument.

Ron was still glaring at his brothers as they all left the compartment.

"Sorry about him," George said once the door was shut behind them. "He's on the loud side."

Harry found that hard to reconcile with the shyness he'd witnessed. "He was quiet as a mouse before you showed up."

"Completely unlike him," Fred said. "Right, George?"

"Verily, good brother."

"Now where did we leave Lee?"

"He was chatting up Angelina, remember?"

"Oh yes. Well, they're not there now."

"Think they moved into a compartment?"

"If so, we'd better knock."

"Or not."

"Or not," Fred agreed.

They found Lee in a compartment with two girls. One girl had medium brown skin, shiny black hair down to her shoulders, and freckles on her dimpled cheeks. She was smiling broadly at him, but she turned to them as they entered the compartment.

"Lee, Angelina, meet Harry."

"Hi, Harry," they said at the same time.

"This is Alicia."

Alicia was an Indian girl with smooth skin and pretty eyes.

"Hi, Harry."

"This guy behaving himself?" Fred said.

"Does he ever?" Alicia said with a merry laugh.

"We encourage him not to," George said.

"We've noticed."

"Lee, Harry wanted to meet your tarantula."

Lee perked up. "Yeah? Check it out." He opened the box and held it out.

Harry was fascinated by the arachnid. It was covered in black hair and had a very pretty pattern of rust-colored spots on its (for lack of a better term) knees.

"Is this one of the poisonous kind?"

"Naw, I'd never risk bringing one of those to school. He's just a harmless little fuzzball."

"Spiders eat all kinds of insects. They're more than just harmless; they're actively beneficial. May I touch it?"

"Go right ahead."

Harry reached into the open box and stroked the hair with one finger. Far from being scared, the creature seemed to like the attention. It chittered with what Harry chose to call satisfaction.

Alicia turned to the twins. "Did you happen to find Wood? Has he talked to Katie yet?"

"We did find Wood," Fred said.

"He has not talked to Katie," George continued.

"He went looking for her."

"He found her," Angelina said as the compartment door opened.

Wood was built like the rugby players Harry had seen on the television (before Uncle Vernon changed it over to the cricket match). Katie was a dainty thing with pale skin and medium brown hair cut in a bob.

"Okay, team meeting," Wood said without preamble. "Katie is moving up to starter to replace Lincoln. Harvey agreed to stay on as Seeker. We've got a good roster, but it's not great. We can make it great. With a lot of hard work and dedication, we'll take the Cup back from Slytherin."

George turned to Harry. "We haven't had the Cup since our brother Charlie left school after he got his OWLs back."

Fred continued, "The only subject he got above an A in was Magical Creatures."

"He went to Romania to learn to be a dragon handler."

"He was the team Seeker."

Harry stared blankly, still trying to process 'OWLs' and 'Seeker', let alone 'dragon'.

Wood frowned. "Who is this?"

"This is Harry." George did the honors.

"What position do you play?"

"Position?" Harry said faintly.

"In Quidditch," Wood said curtly. "You do play, don't you?"

"Never heard of it until a month ago."

George started. "Oh, Quidditch is great, Harry. There's-"

"We don't have time now to explain everything there is to know about Quidditch," Wood interrupted. "Would you mind giving us the room? If you wind up in another house, I don't want you knowing what we discussed."

Harry immediately got to his feet. If there was one thing he'd learned in his short life, it was to listen when someone told you to move or get.

"I'll catch you guys later," Harry said, not even waiting to hear their replies as he slid the door shut.

He stood there in the hall, wondering what he was going to do now. There was still a lot of time left before the train arrived at Hogwarts. He supposed he could go back to Ron's compartment, but he still wasn't inclined to be gawped at. Any other compartment was likely to be similar, with people starstruck by the Boy-Who-Lived. He decided he would wander around a bit.

Ron sat in the compartment by himself and was positively seething.

He'd been unable to find a compartment that wasn't full, so he'd had to approach the one where everyone said Harry Potter was sitting. It had taken him a full two minutes to even work up the nerve to knock. He'd asked somewhat diffidently if he could sit there, and the black-haired boy had agreed readily enough but then ignored him. Ron was sure he'd already managed to make himself look like a tosser on the other side of the barrier separating the Muggle platforms from the magical ones, because the boy hadn't waited around for Ron after going through. Then they were sitting together, and Ron had felt completely tongue-tied, not even managing to introduce himself. What did one say to the biggest hero of the wizarding world?

Then his brothers, the twins, had come in. Bad enough that they'd already managed to meet Harry, but they'd been in a position to help him out. They'd forgotten to give Harry their names earlier, so they had done so, and had completely embarrassed Ron by introducing him as though they and Harry were old friends. The twins had always made friends easily. Everyone liked them.

The more he sat and thought about his brothers and how much they had accomplished, the more bitter he became. His oldest brother Bill had been a prefect and then Head Boy. The next brother Charlie had been team Seeker and Quidditch captain, securing the Cup for Gryffindor for several years in a row. The twins lost lots of points but were popular despite it. How could Ron live up to that?

He had finally had a chance to make a friend but had been too insecure to follow through. Harry had liked the twins so much that he'd gone off with them to see Lee Jordan's pet tarantula. How could Ron compete with a cool pet like that? All he had was a stupid, lazy rat.

There was a knock at the compartment door. It opened to reveal a round-faced boy who looked like he'd been crying, and a girl with an unruly mop of bushy brown hair.

"Yes?" he said curtly.

The girl spoke first. "Have you seen a toad? Neville's lost one."

"No," Ron said sourly. Even this boy seemed to be able to make friends, and he'd been crying.

"Well, if you see one, please don't let it get away."

"My brothers probably used it for Bludger practice," Ron said darkly. "They did that with our puffskein once and killed it."

Neville's face grew horrified. He sniffled, and fresh tears leaked from his eyes.

"What a horrible thing to say," the girl said primly.

"Who cares what you think? Go away."

Neville fled, not waiting for the girl.

"We're trying to find a lost pet. One would think you'd be a little less of a nasty beast about it. I bet you'd be upset too if you lost that rat of yours. Speaking of which, how come you get to bring a rat in the first place? It's not on the list."

"Get out!" Ron exploded. He was tired of the girl's ugly face and snotty attitude.

The girl left, following after Neville, and Ron slammed the compartment door behind them. He threw himself back into his seat and continued to seethe.

Harry was just about to exit the car when the door opened to reveal the round-faced boy who'd lost his toad and a girl with a great head of bushy brown hair.

"Hi," said the boy. "Have you seen my toad?"

"Sorry, no," Harry replied. "I saw you on the platform. Is he lost again?"

"No, still."

"So he might not even be on the train?"

The boy's face scrunched up, and tears leaked from his eyes. "Gran's gonna kill me."

"It'll be all right, Neville," the girl said reassuringly, awkwardly patting him on the arm.

"I'll help," Harry said. He was glad to have a purpose.

"You don't really think that boy's brothers did anything to Trevor, do you?" Neville sobbed.

The girl rolled her eyes. "That boy was downright mean. Put him out of your mind."

"But if they really used their pet puffskein for Bludger practice-"

"I'm sure he was exaggerating."

"Who is this?" Harry said.

"We didn't get his name," the girl replied. "He had red hair and a very bad attitude. He practically yelled at Neville. I'm Hermione, by the way."

Harry was now glad that he'd decided not to go back to Ron's compartment. He didn't want to share a car with someone having a temper tantrum.

"I'm Harry. I think you may have met Ron. He does have brothers, but Fred and George seem like good lads."

"You'll have to introduce us."

"I will."

They walked up the cars, poking their heads in many compartments and asking people if they'd seen a toad. Some people were rude, but most were friendly enough and promised to keep an eye out.

When they at last gave up the search, they sat down in the hall in the first car.

"I'm sorry, Neville," Hermione said. "I thought for sure we'd find him."

Neville sighed, all his tears cried. "I'll just have to write home and tell Gran. I should tell Uncle Algie too."

"Do you live with your gran?" Harry said.

"Yeah, since I was young. My parents, they- they couldn't raise me."

Harry felt a surge of empathy. "I'm sorry. I'm an orphan too."

"My condolences."

"That's awful," Hermione said. "Was it the war I've read so much about?"

"Yeah," Harry said and left it at that.

"Me too," Neville said.

"I'm so sorry. I lost both my grandfathers on the European front in the second world war. Both my mum and dad were raised by single mums."

There was silence for a moment. Harry felt slightly better about the awful truth of his parents' deaths knowing that other children had also lost family during war.

"So, what classes are you looking forward to?" Hermione asked after a moment.

"Gran says I have a natural touch with plants," Neville said proudly. "I think I'll enjoy Herbology."

"I think they all sound interesting," Harry said.

"Me too!" Hermione said, her face lighting up.

"Of course it's not like I know a lot about it all."

"Oh?"

"Yeah. I just found out about magic a month ago."

"Are you Muggle-born?" Hermione said. "I'm Muggle-born. My parents are dentists."

"Well, I grew up in a Muggle family," Harry said. "It amounts to the same thing, doesn't it?"

"I guess so."

"I met Professor Quirrell in Diagon Alley. He teaches Defence Against the Dark Arts and he stutters."

"Oh dear," Hermione said.

"I don't have high hopes for it. Potions sounds interesting, as does History of Magic."

"I agree. I can't wait to learn all about this secret world. I memorized all our textbooks."

Harry was impressed. "Wow, do you have a photographic memory or something?"

Hermione laughed. "No. That's very rare, and most people who have it can't understand what they retain. Okay, so I haven't memorized them, but I read them all day every day for the past month. It's a lot to take in, a lot to catch up on."

"Tell me about it," Harry said. "Apparently I'm famous."

"What?"

"The wizard who came to get me told me, and then a whole bunch of people in the Leaky Cauldron mobbed me."

Hermione suddenly scrunched up her face thoughtfully. "That's why you look familiar to me. I saw pictures of your parents in some of the books I read. You're Harry Potter."

Neville's eyes widened.

"That's me," Harry admitted. "I'm in books?"

"Yeah. The war against Voldemort has only been over for ten years."

Neville looked faint. "You said his name."

"Whose name?"

"You-Know-Who. He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named." He spoke so fast it was almost like one word.

"That's an awful lot of hyphens," Harry observed dryly. "Hagrid didn't like saying his real name either."

"Must be part of that ignorance I heard one boy going on about to some other boys."

"What now?" Neville said.

"He had blond hair and a bit of a rodental face. He was talking about Mudbloods all being ignorant and uncultured."

Neville frowned. "He used that ugly word?"

"Yeah. One doesn't have to be a genius to figure out what it implies."

The boy shook his head. "Yeah. Not all pure-bloods think like that. I mean, yes, Muggle-borns don't know our culture, but they can learn. We're all British. We're loyal to the Queen. Centuries ago, the Monarch was magical himself. We just stay out of sight."

"Well, that makes me feel better."

"Me too," Harry added.

"I think I know who you're talking about. His sort are a very small minority in our world."

They stayed on the floor at the very front of the train for most of the ride. Harry enjoyed making friends with children his own age, not having to worry about Dudley interfering. He and Hermione told Neville many things about the Muggle world, while he returned the favor and enlightened them about many things magical.

After several hours, a witch pushing a trolley laden with snacks came along. Neville pulled out some silver pentagonal Sickles and bought several boxes of licorice wands and Sugar Quills. Hermione considered her choices carefully and bought some Fizzing Whisbees. Harry grabbed several Chocolate Frogs and a bag of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

At last the train came into the station. They were hustled off and directed towards some magical rowboats that propelled themselves across the lake and to a dock under the mountain. Neville was delighted when Hagrid found Trevor in one of the boats. They took an immeasurable number of steps up to a set of grand doors, where Hagrid pounded a big fist to announce them. The door creaked open to reveal a stern-seeming witch.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," Hagrid said formally.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

Hagrid continued into the castle.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The start-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room.

"The four houses are named for the Founders of Hogwarts: Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. Each has also produced practitioners of Dark magic.

"While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," said Professor McGonagall. "Please wait quietly."

"Neville, here," Hermione said. "Your cloak is crooked." She adjusted it.

"Thanks."

She looked over Harry, her gaze lingering on his head. "Harry, do you have a comb?"

"Do I look like the sort of guy who carries a comb around?"

"I had to ask."

"It's pointless anyway."

Before they knew it, they were in front of the entire school. Harry thought the singing hat was quite stellar. Hermione went to Gryffindor after what sounded like an argument. Neville took several minutes before the hat proclaimed him a Gryffindor, and he was so excited that he ran for the table with the hat still on his head. Harry's conversation with the hat was very surreal, but when it saw he was friends with two Gryffindors already, it decided he would do well to join them.

One by one, the hat Sorted them all until the only other people left were Ron Weasley and a black-skinned boy with short hair and blue eyes. He and Ron eyed each other. Which one would be left standing there all alone?

"Weasley, Ronald."

Ron stepped forward, completely nervous. He tried not to let his knees shake. He sat on the stool, and the hat went on his head, covering his eyes.

"Ah, another Weasley," a voice said in his ear. "Seems like I get at least one of you every few years. You're the youngest boy, yes?"

"Yes," Ron thought.

"I've been waiting for you, you know. I've seen you in your brothers' minds for years now."

"Waiting? For me?"

"Indeed. You're not like the others, so much, are you?"

"What- what do you mean?"

"You remind me a lot of Percy, actually. Bill was a prefect and later Head Boy. Charlie was the team seeker and later the captain. He wanted to be in the spotlight too, because your parents gave them so much attention when they achieved. He knew he wasn't much good at Quidditch, but he was a good student. He decided to buckle down and be serious, and look where he is now. He's a prefect this year. He'll likely be Head Boy."

"He wants to be the Minister for Magic."

"I think he has a fair shot at getting it someday. And the twins? Those lads are going places. I saw it all in their heads, and I hear all the reports Mister Filch gives to the headmaster."

Ron sighed deeply. "It's a lot to live up to."

"Yes, it certainly is. Percy had to live up to two brothers, but you've got to live up to five. That's rather a lot to put on someone."

"Tell me about it." Ron felt like here at last was someone who understood the pressures he was under.

"You can do it, you know."

That surprised him. "I can?"

"I'm the Sorting Hat, and I see it clearly in your mind. You can be a very big deal. You have it within you to achieve all you imagine if you take the right road."

Ron suddenly got a sinking feeling in his stomach that had nothing to do with hunger. "You're not talking about Gryffindor, are you?"

"No, lad. I'm not."

He tried not to panic. "But that's where I'm supposed to be."

"Yes, that's where you've been told you're supposed to be, but it's not where you belong. You'll have a hard time there. Percy was supposed to go elsewhere as well, but I let him talk me out of it. I'm not going to make the same mistake with you. If you truly want to stand on your own and be recognized for yourself, there's no place for you but-

"Slytherin!"

There was applause from the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables, but the Slytherins and Gryffindors were dead silent. A Weasley? In Slytherin?

Ron blinked as McGonagall pulled the Hat up. He looked up at her, not quite believing it was for real. She pursed her lips, nodded once, and gestured towards the Slytherin table. Ron stood up and started walking. His brothers were staring at him, wide-eyed. He sat down at the Slytherin table as Blaise Zabini was called up and then sat down next to him.

Note: This chapter was updated 27-May-2014.