Based on the events of the 3rd year, but they are 6th year age. (16/17).
Not true to the story, some ages are tweaked here and there to make the story more realistic.
I don't care if you hate this pairing! It was a fun idea to write about! I don't own anything.

Enjoy and please give feed back! :)

'Come on Harry!' Hermione shouted, the Hogwarts express billowing smoke and rapidly picking up speed. She leaned out the door, her curly hair being whipped from her face as she reached out for him. Harry was running now to try and reach the open door, his fingers brushed hers then slipped again. He lunged forward again just as the end of the platform loomed, and this time grabbed hold. She hauled him up into the train and they collapsed on the floor, giddy and laughing uncontrollably. It took her a minute to catch her breath and untangle her limbs from his, and the pile of luggage that had cushioned the fall. She looked up at Harry's brilliant green eyes, which were inches from her own and blushed.

'Sorry... I ,' she began
'It's fine, I should just...' He tried to clamber off, but a curl of her hair had tangled in his glasses. She flushed scarlet as they both tried, with a lot of apology, to separate. Once free Harry scrabbled to his feet, and Hermione glanced up and caught Ron's eye. He scowled accusingly at them both, with his arms folded across his chest, before stomping off muttering about all the carriages being full. Hermione sighed. It was obvious that Ron liked her. Like, like liked her, but he would never admit it, nor did she feel the same way. Harry hauled her to her feet and she fixed her hair as best she could, which didn't make a shred of difference. It still tumbled around her face in a torrent of brunette curls. Just then came a drawling voice which belonged to Draco Malfoy – a cocky Slytherin boy that the trio had despised since their first year – flanked by his two cronies, Crabbe and Goyle, who appeared to exist solely to snigger at Malfoy's jokes.

'Gross! Did you see that? Crabbe? Goyle? He actually TOUCHED that thing! I wouldn't touch a mudblood with a broomstick! It's bad enough that we are forced to share a train with them!' Crabbe and Goyle smirked.
Hermione's anger flared. She was about to hit him when Harry stopped her.

'Don't,' He said, grabbing her arm. 'He's not worth the effort.'

And with that he steered her towards the rear of the train where Ron had gone, pulling his trunk behind him.

'Have fun with your girlfriend Potter! If she even is a girl! It's hard to tell beneath that stink of mud!' jeered Malfoy as they left.

Hermione blushed again but didn't retort. They entered the rearmost carriage and sat down with Ron before closing the door. Hermione was so angry and embarrassed that it took her a few minutes to realise that they weren't alone in the carriage. It was only when Ron said 'Who's that?' that she looked up.

'Professor R. J. Lupin,' she said, anger replaced with newfound curiosity. Harry and Ron gave her an incredulous look.

'Blimey Hermione, do you actually know everything?' asked Ron, a little scathingly.

'It's on his case, Ronald,' she replied, pointing, and rolled her eyes for good measure.

The strangers case was tattered and old fashioned. His clothes were worn and patched all over. He slept peacefully with his mouth slightly open, head leaned against the window. His face was young, but creased with weariness. Hermione estimated he was in his mid thirties.

'Wonder what he teaches?' mused Ron.

'Isn't it obvious? There's only one vacancy!' Hermione tutted again, enjoying the feeling of superiority. It was true. The Defence Against the Dark Arts post was vacant once again. The students joked that it was cursed, as no teacher had remained in the job more than one year.

'I just hope he's better than the others we've had,' mused Harry.