So I knew it would happen. I knew I would watch HBP (3 times, ps) and want to write a R/Hr, and yes, positively SQUEE! At the romantic tension in this one, even if it wasn't exactly true to the book. So I started thinking….and this was what I got.

Seven times Ron doesn't see Hermione. Maybe he doesn't notice her presence, or maybe they weren't in the same room, what have you. Whatever the case may be, I hope to concoct some of the relationship building that went on behind the scenes.

Obviously not mine, or else I would have ruined it by having them jump each other as soon as the hormones kicked in.

Enjoy!

HARRY POTTER AND THE SORCERERS STONE

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to Harry as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly."

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Harry caught a glimpse of her face-and was startled to see that she was in tears.

"I think she heard you."

"So?" said Ron but he looked a bit uncomfortable. "She must notice she's got no friends."

One foot in front of the other. Left right, left right. Turn, down the corridor, up the stairs, through the portrait hole.

Or rather, she tried to go through the portrait hole. Of course the fat lady gave her a hard time about the password. She knew what it was and she was trying to say it, but really, it's quite hard to enunciate clearly when one is bawling one's eyes out.

"What was that again little missy?" The framed woman snipped, crossing her arms over her ample chest and regarding Hermione suspiciously. Suspicious of what the little girl couldn't possibly imagine. She wasn't the sort of child who was at often at odds with her elders, and the strangeness of the situation only added to the deterioration of her rapidly sinking mood. Sniffling violently, she tried to stutter out "pig snout" yet again, but the giggles of several exiting fourth year girls did nothing to calm her nerves or steady her voice. Tears came harder now, hot with shame as she ducked her head low into her robes. If such a spell existed, she wished beyond all wishes she knew how to melt herself down and seep into the floorboards. Or become invisible. Whichever one was the quicker way to end this agony.

She would have to consult her books to see if this was possible.

But she would have to do that later, much later, when she was…herself again. For now, she would have to make do with doing things the old-fashioned way.

Hiding.

Scurrying as fast as she could down the hallways, she kept her head down to dodge eye contact with the few students that loitered in the corridors. Really, didn't they have someplace to be? She tried to be as inconspicuous as possible as she picked her way along the cold stone walls, desperate to avoid drawing attention to herself, especially like this. She couldn't bear to look like even more of a fool in front of everyone…though if Ronald Weasley was right no one could stand her already. Staring at her feet as she made the now-familiar trek, she was comforted to find the girl's lavatory empty. She wasted no time in flinging open the doors of the nearest stall and darting inside. Filling her hands with toilet paper she held the wad up to her face and finally allowed those deep, comforting, gut-wrenching sobs to roll forth from her.

She wouldn't admit it, she couldn't, not even to herself… but oh dear how badly she wanted her mother right now!

Hogwarts was hard, much harder than she had anticipated. Not the academics of it all of course, at least that much was working out splendidly. Learning had always come easy to her, and she was quickly finding wizardry studies to be even more fascinating than her muggle schooling. Charms, potions, history of magic, it was all so very spellbinding (no pun intended). She craved the knowledge of such strange things as though it were her sustenance for living. And perhaps, it was. There wasn't much else getting her by these days.

It was the social aspect she was having trouble with…again. She had hoped things would be different here than they were back home, that she would finally find a place where she could fit in with these students. These children were special, they had gifts, they were like her! Surely she would finally find someone whose interests were more in tune with her own here, someone with whom she could discuss books and share secrets and do all the things the other girls in her prim and proper London academy had done. The things she told herself she was too busy for, or too mature, when really…

But that had been foolish, she chastised herself, disposing of her deteriorated tissues and restocking her supply. Blinking hard she tried to quell her tears and regain her composure…without much success. Children were foolish, she told herself, and she didn't need them. What she needed was facts and books, things that were solid and dependable and didn't make fun of you just because you happened to care about your studies… and here she had plenty of both. To cry was a waste of time better spent studying.

Ronald Weasley certainly could stand to spend a bit more time studying.

Not that she cared of course, but if he kept this up she didn't see how he possibly would make it throughout the school year. Maybe he thought he could skirt by on having so many family members pass through the school. She may have been a muggleborn, but it didn't take long for one to hear about the Weasley's legacy here at Hogwarts. His own older brother was a prefect, as had been the eldest ones before him, though she doubted Ronald would follow in their footsteps. Maybe he thought his brother would go easy on him, but she doubted Percy was the kind of boy to let Ronald slide due to nepotism. Ron could stand to pick up a few things about responsibility from him, if she did say so herself. Or maybe it was the other two, the twins Fred and George. Now it was no secret that those boys were positively out of control, but all the same well liked by students and teachers alike (though the latter might never admit it). Maybe he thought he had their laughable charm and wit on his side to help him shirk his studies and fumble his way along.

Well, she hated to tell him, but he most certainly didn't.

Not that she would tell him, not that she would ever, ever speak to that wretched boy ever again in her entire existence...but still. It was something even he couldn't be daft enough not to notice.

Hrrumph, if he wasn't going to notice it, then neither was she. She wasn't going to notice his sloppy penmanship, or his ridiculous red hair, or his abominable amount of freckles, or the way his ears turned as cherry bright as a ripe tomato when he was embarrassed…Not that she had ever noticed any of that before of course.

But if she had, she certainly wouldn't notice it again.

Better things to do after all. Studies and spells and quills and…

And ha, he was one to talk about friends! The only person she ever noticed him hanging about with (not, of course, that she noticed who he hung about with) was that Harry Potter boy. Oh yes, she had heard all about Harry, everyone had heard about Harry, even friendless muggleborns like herself. Frankly though, she didn't notice anything particularly special about him. He was nice enough, as far as she could tell, at least he had never said vile and cruel and completely undeserved things about people he hardly knew at all and had no business…that is to say, he had always been polite to her. He did relatively well in the classes they shared (better than Ronald) and he was quite a natural at flying, and though it was an aspect of wizardry she honestly didn't place much importance on, it was a wizard skill nonetheless. As far as her performance on a broomstick, it would be a lie to say she wasn't disappointed, but she had read about apparition and she was sure she would excel at that when the time came to get her license. She could think of a person or two who might have difficulty with such a task, though of course she wouldn't mention any names. But Harry, yes, honestly from all she had read about him she was expecting someone a bit more…well, she certainly hadn't pictured him with glasses in the very least.

She wondered what Ronald would look like with glasses. Percy had them, so bad eyes might run in the family. She tried to think if she had ever seen him squinting at the blackboard, or holding his book up closely to his face.

But that was rubbish, of course! As if he ever held up his book to do anything but shield himself from the jinxes the twins sent out in his direction. Not that it did much good, his reflexes were rather slow. Slow, stupid…dumb boy. All of them, they were all just dumb boys and she shouldn't care what he-err, they thought. She didn't care what they thought, any of them.

Or at least, that was what she would keep telling herself. Maybe if she said it enough, it would become true…

Giving a few half-hearted swipes at her eyes, Hermione exhaled deeply. Drawing her knees up to her chin she rested her head up upon them, staring blankly at the faded door in front of her. She was used to being teased for reading too much and poked fun of for her hair…or her teeth…or, well, let's just say she was used to the cruelty of children. What she wasn't used to was letting it get to her like this. Stress, that was what it had to be. She was stressing herself out trying to be the perfect witch, and it was starting to wear at her. Ronald alone couldn't do this to her, because HA, who cared what a bumbling fool like him thought about her? Not Hermione Granger, that was for certain! No, she assured herself, it wasn't him in particular…it was the situation. All she needed was a nice, long cry, and now that she had that out of her system she could be back to her old self. Good ole nerdy, confident Hermione. Friendless and all. Feeling marginally better about herself, she stood slowly to her feet and stepped timidly out of her stall. Thankfully, she was still alone. She had lost track of time during her little rant, but judging from the voracious growl her stomach let out she assumed it was growing close to dinner. For the first time in what felt like ages, she smiled. That was one thing she could agree with Ronald about, Hogwarts food certainly trumped her old school's.

Walking up to the mirrors, she grimaced at her reflection in the glass. Turning on the creaky old facet, she leaned down to splash some cold water on her face.

Wait…what was that noise?

Oh tee hee how I love me some good old-fashioned puppy love…especially when it doesn't stop at the puppy stage! Next chapter is going to be from Chamber of Secrets (if you hadn't figured it out, the 'seven times' and from the seven books). Please help me pick which scene to write, suggestions would be greatly appreciated!