Written for Elizabeth Blossom for completing a challenge of mine on HPFC

Written for Twelve Days of Christmas Challenge (1/4 Houses - Gryffindor)

Stuff of Fairytales

"Are you ready, dear?"

Hermione took a step back to look at her neatly packed trunk and the barn owl she had named Eric beside it. She smiled. Finally. She was going off to Hogwarts.

"I'm coming!" she called from her bedroom to where she knew her mother was waiting impatiently to get going. Hermione was almost sure this day had been the day her mother was waiting for since Hermione was born; to send her daughter to Hogwarts.

Shaking her head, Hermione picked up her trunk and the cage Eric was in and made her way to the top of the stairs where, sure enough, her mother was waiting. She was dressed in her Ministry robes, an emblem near the left breast to signify her involvement in the Magical Transportation department. Her father appeared beside her and he, too, was wearing his Ministry robes.

Hermione beamed. Hogwarts. Finally.

"Come on, we better get going, dear," her mother said. "We won't want to miss the Portkey, otherwise you'll never get to Hogwarts."

Her father lifted the trunk and carried it down the stairs, while Hermione took Eric.

"Where is it anyway?" Hermione asked, wanting to know about the Portkey.

"Should be about half a mile away," Hermione's father answered.

Hermione nodded and followed eagerly as they left their secluded cottage just outside of Falmouth.

"Now, remember, Hermione, of course your father and I would be so proud if you were to become a Ravenclaw like ourselves, but if the Sorting Hat thinks you belong somewhere else, that's okay, too."

"I know, Mum," Hermione answered cheerfully, skipping to keep up with her parents. The Sorting Hat had been bothering her for months now, but she wasn't going to let them know that. She was smart and could probably do well in Ravenclaw, but she had increasingly been getting a feeling that she wouldn't belong in that house.

Just not in Slytherin, she thought nervously.

They walked to a place just where their house was invisible and stopped beside an umbrella lying mysteriously on the ground. A few other people who probably lived nearby were gathered there, too, each carrying a trunk like her own. They didn't look nervous or afraid, more annoyed to be going back to school. They barely acknowledged Hermione or her parents' existence.

"Two minutes, dear," Hermione's mother answered, placing an arm across her daughter's shoulders. "Almost there."

Hermione nodded, forcing herself to stay calm. It was just a school. That was all. She would be ten steps ahead of a lot, just because she knew magic existed. That was something.

"Okay, hold on."

Hermione reached for the Portkey and placed a finger on the umbrella handle. This wasn't her favourite form of transportation, but it was safer than Apparating when so many Muggles were around.

"Three… two… one…."

It was like a hook was digging into her bellybutton as she was lifted from where she stood. Moments later she was thrown to the ground beside the Leaky Cauldron. Her mother helped her to her feet.

"You really need to get a hold of that," she laughed.

Hermione blushed red. It was one of few things she had never grasped in her almost twelve years.

"Come on, let's go inside and then head to the station. The train leaves in two hours."

Hermione followed her parents into the popular pub, breathing out nervously.

Not long now. Not long at all.

…

If he understood right, the train that steamed in front of him was going to take him to a place far away where he would learn magic? Spells and potions and broomsticks and everything that he had read in books as a child, that his mother had told him was make-believe.

It was now apparently all real.

"Ron?"

Ron stirred and looked to where his whole family stood, looking around in awe. There were people dressed in funny clothes with funny hats. Some even looked like real wizards from those same stories.

How strange this all was.

That letter that had arrived not that long ago with a strange lady coming to his door. She had sat all nine of his family down and said that they were accepting him into a school of magic.

At first his dad had wanted to kick the old lady out, but then she had shown them her wand and what she could do with that wand. She had then said that one day Ron would be able to do that, too, but they needed to teach him properly.

"This will answer everything strange that might have happened around your son," she had said, which had convinced his parents. After all, they all knew that managing to get from the kitchen to his bedroom in the blink of an eye was not a normal thing to do.

So there he stood, his trunk packed and a pet rat by his side, ready to board a train with other people who had magic.

He wondered if none of them knew either.

Probably not. He was probably the only one in existence not to know he had magic.

The steam train sounded and his mother turned to him.

"Ron, I think that means it's time to go." She pointed to the big clock on the wall. "Almost eleven, dear."

Ron nodded, swallowing a lump that had formed in his throat. He could do this; he could be a wizard. If he didn't learn how to control the magic then he might almost kill his dad by accident again. He didn't want that.

His parents gave him a hug in turn and his siblings waved, wishing him luck. Ginny pouted, arms folded across her chest. Apparently she wanted to go to a magic school, too.

The train was filled with students, most who seemed to know each other already. They all looked a lot older and much bigger. Some were already dressed in their school robes even though the letter he had received specifically instructed they wear Muggle clothes to not draw attention to themselves.

Whatever Muggles were.

Ron pushed his way through the bustling students, searching for somewhere to sit. Everywhere was full, though, and no one would want to sit with him anyway. Not a nervous, red-haired boy, who had not even known everything he could do was magic.

"Stupid parents," he muttered to himself as he continued to move through the train. He just had to be the odd one out, didn't he?

He'd almost reached the end of the train when he spotted a compartment that was semi-empty. It had only a boy with messy black hair and glasses and a bushy-haired brunette girl who seemed to be talking the boy's ear off. Ron slid open the door and both pairs of eyes turned to him.

"Er," he began, "Er, everywhere else is full."

The boy looked absolutely relieved to have someone other than the girl with him, but the girl, herself, watched him with contempt. She slid over anyway to let him sit beside her.

"Er, I'm Ron," he said uncomfortably. "Ron Weasley."

The boy stuck out his hand. "Harry Potter," he introduced.

Ron nodded and then looked to the girl. "Hermione," she said. "Granger." Her eyes didn't divert from him, which made him increasingly uncomfortable. Eventually, she spoke again. "You're obviously a Muggleborn."

"A w-what?" Ron stammered.

"A Mugggleborn," Hermione repeated. "Someone who is born to non-magic parents."

How did she work that out from just looking at him? Did he really stick out like a sore thumb?

"Because if you weren't you probably would have jumped out of your seat once you heard Harry Potter's name."

Ron glanced to Harry who had turned rather red.

"Oh."

"He's famous, you know," Hermione continued. "I, of course, recognised him straight away, even though most only know his name. He stopped the greatest dark wizard of all time when he was just a baby."

Nothing could stop the baffled expression on Ron's face as he looked to Harry. The other boy just shrugged, turning even redder.

"Er, so your parents are all magic then?" Ron asked. It was directed at Harry, but it was Hermione who answered.

"Yes, both are heads of their respective departments. Ravenclaws. I'm not sure I'll be in Ravenclaw, but my parents said they'd be proud no matter what. I just hope it's not Slytherin."

"Ravenclaw?" Ron questioned.

"Houses at Hogwarts," Hermione explained. "There's four – Ravenclaw, Hufflepuff, Gryffindor and Slytherin. The Sorting Hat sorts you on your qualities. Ravenclaw is really for the smart ones."

"Well, I won't be in that, then," Ron mused and Harry chuckled, nodding in agreement.

Hermione gave them both scathing looks. "It's better than being in Slytherin," she said. "They're filled with dark wizards." She studied both the boys with scrutiny. "Also, you both better get changed. Best to be prepared, as I always say." She stood up and left the compartment, leaving Harry and Ron to stare after her in bewilderment.

After a moment, Ron turned to Harry. "Well," he said, "Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it."

Harry nodded in agreement.

…

Hermione found Hogwarts to be everything she had imagined it to be and more.

Ron decided he hated it.

Hermione topped every subject she attended, which she was not heavily popular for – by Ron the most. According to him she was bossy, a know-it-all and rubbed in the fact that she came from a family of purebloods who were very good at what they did.

Ron had Harry, at least.

And Hermione, so it seemed.

Harry had befriended Hermione by accident, and she seemed to consider the pair of them friends. Harry didn't seem to mind her, which annoyed Ron. All she did was tell both of them how rubbish at magic they were.

It turned out Harry had only found out he was magic when he turned eleven, too, which made Ron happy. Harry, of course, had a better story to tell, though, and everyone seemed to know who he was. Hermione droned on about his history, which Harry said was more than he knew.

Apparently his parents had been killed by a dark wizard, but Harry had stopped him and now he was famous because he was the Boy Who Lived. Ron thought that was a bit of a title to have, but at least he was friends with someone popular.

Nonetheless Ron attended classes and learnt every skill he possibly could. To begin with he found uses for Hermione. She would become so frustrated with his lack of desire to complete homework and would end up writing her own and then writing his as well.

This went on for a good few years, until Ron decided he actually liked Hermione.

As a friend, of course, and she was still bossy. But when that Malfoy tosser started making fun of her Ron felt the need to defend her. Even once he had tried to cast a spell for Malfoy to eat slugs because of something he had said to her. Unfortunately, that had backfired.

As they got even older Ron decided he actually really liked Hermione. It was stupid, he knew. She was smart and a pureblood whom succeeded as a witch. He was just a plain old Muggleborn with mediocre powers, red hair and a freckly face. She'd probably end up marrying someone like Malfoy (but not Malfoy, because Malfoy was a git, and Hermione agreed with that).

Still, he would sometimes worry that if he didn't tell her how he felt, she'd slip from his grasp.

That scared him more than his final exams that were coming up.

…

Why didn't the fool notice her? In her opinion she had offered Ron many chances to at least hold her hand, but the idiot was either completely oblivious or just didn't care.

A knot formed in her stomach at the latter. She couldn't contemplate that.

Harry suspected it had something to do with him being who he was – Muggleborn. Apparently Ron thought that meant he was unworthy of her.

"But… but that's stupid!" Hermione roared one evening in the common room in their seventh year. "He knows I don't care about that kind of thing." She began pacing by the fireplace in front of a startled Harry. He had not considered her to ever be someone who found themselves worked up over a bloke; not even Ron.

"Yeah, but Hermione," Harry began after recovering from his shock, "It's Ron. Being the only one with magic in his family is not a gift to him, it's a burden. He thinks it's a punishment."

Hermione frowned, shaking her head. "He's an idiot," she said.

Harry shrugged. "Well, I can assure you he's probably not going to make a move anytime soon so you may as well do so yourself. He'll be delighted."

The knot in Hermione's stomach tightened even more.

…

Finally, they were finishing.

Ron felt extremely uncomfortable to have his whole family there watching as they were given a departing ceremony to the Hogwarts Express. His father had been extremely delighted and bewildered by the lifestyle Ron had lived the last seven years. He had been asking anyone dressed in robes what it was like to have magic, or if he could use one of their 'magic wands'. When he had asked Professor McGonagall if she used magic to hide her wrinkles Ron had turned a deep red and moved on quickly before the professor could hunt him down for such a rude question.

It was in that moment he found himself alone with Hermione.

"Strange, isn't it?" she said, beaming at him. They were right near the back of the line, waiting to depart.

"What is?" Ron mumbled, wishing to be anywhere but there.

"Finishing. Now it's time to find a real job. That is, of course, if our NEWTs are good."

"For you, they will be," Ron promised.

"I'm sure yours will be too, Ron," Hermione said and reached out to take his hand.

Ron decided he liked that. Her hand was warm and soft.

"You know, Ron," Hermione said when he didn't respond. "I don't have a thing against Muggleborns. Nor do my parents."

Ron was scarlet now. "I know," he said miserably.

"And I'm not like Malfoy. I would never be with someone just because of their blood status. You know, it would be nice to love someone whole-heartedly and commit to them. Muggle, Muggleborn, or pureblood. It's not important to me."

Holding her hand now felt extremely uncomfortable for Ron. He should have joined Harry at the front of the procession.

"Good for you, Hermione," he said.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "You're an idiot, Ron," she said.

"Well, let the NEWTs tell me that first," he said.

Hermione just shook her head and with Susan Bones and Hannah Abbot right behind them she grabbed Ron by his robes and all but jammed her lips onto his.

So surprised, Ron pushed her away.

"Bloody hell, Hermione! What in Merlin's name are you doing?" He glanced uncomfortably to the seats set out for family members and was thankful to discover that his family could not see him from where he stood.

"Kissing you, of course," Hermione answered simply.

"I-I know that, but why?"

"Do I need to spell that answer out for you, Ron?"

Ron scratched his head in confusion. "But –"

"Oh, shut up, Ron," Hermione said and pulled him close to her again for another kiss. When they broke apart (this time Ron not the one to pull away) Hermione looked up to him and smiled. "I told you. I don't care about blood status."

Ron only turned red and nodded. He was pretty sure he understood that now.

Well that was fun, most definitely. Thanks Elizabeth for the prompt idea! I really liked writing it.

This challenge (and many others) can be found on Harry Potter Fanfiction Challenges Forum if you're interested.