A/N: I do not own Harry Potter
Shit
That one word could summarize how I felt after leaving McGonagall's classroom late one afternoon. It's bad enough that I flunked another transfiguration quiz. But the way that McGonagall compared me to my brothers really agitated me. I could still here that awful comparison:
"Mr. Weasley, none of your brothers have ever failed this quiz when they were in this class."
The problem was that she was probably right. Bill, Charlie, and Percy probably all passed with flying colors. Even Fred and George were decent when it came to transfiguration; they knew bloody well how to transfigure a blanket into a bunch of spiders. Those Gits.
Walking out of class that day, I entered the great hall to sit in my usual seat next to Harry, and right across from Hermione. As I sat down, I heard a familiar snicker behind me. Of course, it came from that bastard, Malfoy.
"Well, well, if it isn't Potty and Weaselbee," Malfoy sneered.
"Leave us alone, ferret," responded Harry.
"Yeah nobody wants you here, so just leave," Hermione added.
"I wasn't talking to you, you filthy Mudblood, so-"
I couldn't take it anymore. I got up from my seat, and punched Malfoy right in the nose. That arrogant asshole. Who the fuck does he think he is? How dare he insult Hermione!
The great hall was silent, but only for a second. The next thing I know, Hermione jumps up from her seat, and kisses me full on the mouth.
And at that moment, I realized I don't need to compare myself with my brothers, because I have something my brothers didn't have; Hermione. And I wouldn't trade her for the world.