Author's Note: I had originally written this story last year and found it in a notebook under my bed, and after lots of editing I have made it into a piece that I am proud of.

Read if you'd like to better understand the chapter:

After lots of research I have discovered that one galleon is the approximant equivalent of eight american dollars, sickle is about forty nine cents and a knut is two cents.

Gringotts exchanges muggle money for wizarding money at the prices above, and that is where Hermione exchanged her cleaning allowance into galleons to buy her heels (this is true to my story, nott he actual books). Twenty eight galleons is two hundred and twenty four dollars and the price of Hermione's heels. One hundred galleons is eight hundred dollars and the cost of the high priced concert ticket that she mentions

I was drowning,

But you were with me.

You let me struggle and gasp for air,

Stringing me up in your net,

Pulling me from the water

At the last possible moment.

I worshiped you and the ground you

Stood upon, loving the world around

Me -you taught me how to

Live again.

HTA

It was cold out, and the powerful winds were not helping the temperature or my tangled mane of hair. Just like every other free block at Hogwarts that wasn't loaded with homework, I was seated in the freezing transfiguration courtyard and completely bored. That is, I was bored until I saw a monstrous ginger stroll by.

"Ronald!" I yelled to back of his tall retreating form, "Come here!"

Ronald whipped his around to face me, the corners of his lips tugging upward.

"Hey 'Mione! What's up?" He asked and began walking over.

I twirled a curly lock of hair around my index finger while I eyed a mud stain on my heals. They weren't just any heels either, they were the twenty eight galleon black dragon skin heels that I had spent a summer's cleaning allowance on. While I desperately hoped the mud would come off them, freaking out in the presence of a cute ginger wasn't exactly a smooth move, so I held my tongue.

"We need to have a meeting." I mumbled, completely embarrassed at the fact that I had called him over to ask something so trivial. I may as well have asked him about it in potions class.

"Ah." He said, a hint of humour laced in his mock-secretive voice. "You've gotten some top secret plans to discuss? When should I head down to head quarters?"

I looked up from my heels and into his ice blue eyes and grinned at his childishness. He often told me that I acted way too secretively about out Head-boy and Head-girl duties. A month into the school year he began to call the abandoned classroom that we met up in 'Headquarters' and thought of us as muggle spies. He even tried to get us to dress like them, once, but no way in hell was I wearing a one piece spandex outfit.

"Does tonight work? At seven? That way we can eat first." Wow, that sounded lame. Way to go, Hermione.

"I suppose that I'll eat extra, then. All of these top secret missions require a lot of fuel for thinking power and kick ass muscles."

"That they do."

"I've got to get going, you know, Quidditch practice and all. See you at seven!" He smiled goofily at me before turning on his heel and exiting the courtyard.

"Bye." I murmered, just a tad bit late due to the distracting vision of a shirtless Ronald flying a broom that kept playing over in my head.

I sighed heavily and adjusted my position on the stone slab that I sat on, praying that tonight would go well. From my purple satchel I extracted my Ipod, my most prized possession. I would, as usual, amuse myself for the next hour with music and resisting the temptation to sing out loud -because singing in front of a crowd of people was not an option. For now.

Merlin, I sure as hell hoped that the night would go well.

At exactly six twenty three I ran straight past the common room and into the girl's dorm, instantly regretting the speed of which I traveled at. My mom wasn't kidding around when she told me that exercise and meals were not a good combination. I panted on for a minute longer before gathering myself to open my trunk, being careful to not aggravate the coiled stitch in my side. Figuring out what to wear was going to be a mighty task.

If it was even possible, I wanted to look nice, but not too nice. So that meant no floor length dresses or sparkly shirts, and seeing as friendly meetings are different than dates, I also shoved the idea of low cut shirts and tiny shorts from my mind. What I needed was something smart and casual, but at the same time somewhat dressy. Looking the part of Smart-Hermione could be win Ronald over, and that was what I aimed for. I flicked through the pile of stacked clothes in my trunk, stopping when I spotted my black pencil skirt and purple silk blouse. Examining the my choices more closely, the skirt was deemed inappropriate for this sort of get-together and shoved back in it's place. After several more examinations, I settled on the blouse, a pair of well fit jeans and silver ballet flats.

Satisfied with my findings, I glanced in the mirror at my 'beyond a quick fix' wind tangled hair and groaned. I piled it up in a messy bun and told myself that I would just have to deal with my desire to twirl it at the meeting. There wasn't enough time for me to worry about makeup, cueing my exit of the dormitory.

The way to 'HeadQuarters' was quick, dinner helped out with clearing the now empty halls. Not worrying about bumping other students gave me time to strategise my speech.

When I arrived at the door I took a deep breath and reminded myself that I could do it. That I had to, or forever hold my silence. With my nerves as calm as they would get, I pushed open the door to reveal the glorious Ronald Weasley sitting atop of an old desk, reading. Most unfortunately, his orange mane was flat, probably due to the Quidditch helmet that keepers were required to wear during both games and practice. His attire was entirely black; low slung jeans, a well fit tee-shirt and unlaced Quidditch boots.

"Hey." I said when I managed to stop ogling at him.

He looked up, surprised. "Hey. You're early."

"So are you." I pointed out.

"Right," He smiled, "I suppose I am."

I walked over and onto the desk beside his, trying to get a look at the book in his large hands.

"What are you reading?" I asked, interested. It wasn't everyday that you caught the infamous book-hater Ronald Weasley willingly reading thick books in his spare time.

"I was not reading." He told me, shoving the book in his bag.

I couldn't help but roll my eyes at this. "Oh really, now? Because I'm pretty sure that I saw you reading a book, unless of course you've discovered some use of books aside from reading them that I am currently unaware of."

"Calm down, bookworm, I was looking at our first year pictures in a year book."

I couldn't stop the laugh that bubbled from my lips. "Of course, the one time I manage catch you with a book, it just so happens to be a picture book. Damn, for a moment there I was thinking that I was a perfect Kodak moment. I can see the caption now; 'Ronald's first book!'"

"Kadoka?" he smirked, "Is that some muggle thing?"

"Koh-da-k" I emphasised each sound dramatically, further proving his incompetence with words.

"Right."

"Anyway, why on earth were you looking at our first year pictures?"

"Curiosity. I was supposed to find a book on pygmies for Ginny, but I got sidetracked when I saw a corner labelled yearbooks. You'd be surprised by how long it took me to find it -there were at least a thousand other years to choose from. Honestly, I'm surprised I escaped with the right one before I was an old man. After looking through it, I'm sort of in shock. I refuse to accept that I was once that tiny and stupid looking, and while I won't deny that I am stupid, I'd rather not clue people in to that fact at first sight. Speaking of changing over the years, you sure have come a long way, Hermione. What happened the frizzy-haired buck-toothed girl I used to tease?"

"I guess I've never told anyone about my transformation." I said, surprised at the sudden realisation.

"Why not?"

"It just never came up." I lied, not wanting to tell him that no one had ever asked. "Uhm, my dad is a dentist, which means that he works with teeth. He fixed my buck tooth problem, which was great. And I bought a potion in Diagon Ally that diminished my frizzy hair issue. To bad there aren't such easy fixes for a boring personality, or I might actually have some friends."

Ronald shot me a confused look.

"What do you mean? You get along well enough with everyone in class, and I've spent enough time with you to know that there is noting boring about your personality." He encouraged.

"I am definently not interesting, the majority of my life here is consumed with my studying." I mumbled, my eyes cast down. This really wasn't the direction that I wanted the conversation to be going in. I wanted to come across smart and sure of myself, not embarrassed and self-conscious.

"Studying a lot doesn't make you uninteresting, It makes you smart." He argued.

I looked up at him, to see that his determined expression.

"Not everyone sees it that way," I laughed bitterly, then sighed, "besides, I'm different. I don't really relate well with people my age or… with the wizarding world as a whole. I like a lot of muggle things. One in particular."

"And that is?"

"Music." I whispered, my face flushing.

"Music? We wizards have that to." He told me, the tone of his voice questioned my sanity. "However I don't fully get your interest in it, that stuff at the Yule ball was lame to say the least."

"That's my point!" I explained, "You have ballroom music, like at the Yule ball, and the odd singer here and there that people listen to during the holidays, but in the muggle world, music is on a whole new level. It's everywhere! In shops, cars, on the street and television, in restaurants and hotels. People will spend the equivalent of a hundred galleons to see live music! There are different styles of music and thousands of bands and singers per each of those styles. There are massive store the size of the great hall that sell every kind of music imaginable. It's this massive industry that the wizarding world is missing out on!"

Ronald was silent for a moment.

"I respect your passion for music and I suppose I understand why you feel like you can't connect with others, but liking different things doesn't have to stop you from approaching someone and becoming their friend. Like the saying says, 'Opposites attract!'"

"Opposite attract? Doesn't that saying only apply to lovers?"

Ronald smiled.

"Maybe it does, maybe it doesn't. You should go put yourself out there and try to make some friends, then come back here and tell me whether or not it applies to friendship as well." He pressed.

That was easy for him to say. Ronald was popular. He was on the Quidditch team, best friends with Harry bloody Potter, had famous twin brothers, and a mega popular little sister. And for some reason his family and Harry were some of the nicest people in the school. I seriously didn't get how the wizarding social status worked.

I sighed, still unconvinced.

"Maybe, but I wouldn't know where to start." I admitted. "You're the closest thing to a friend I've had since I've come to Hogwarts, which goes to show how inexperienced I am in the friendship department."

I wondered if he was just saying all of that to make me feel better. I didn't have the potential that I needed in order to be 'friend material,' and I was okay with that.

"Start off easy, then. Start with me. We get along well enough and you've already revealed a lot about yourself to me."

"Us? Friends? I'll admit it's a nice thought." A bloody enticing thought, actually. "But… I just can't see it working out. You are so out there and I'm just so book-y. And quiet."

And lame.

"Is that supposed to make me feel good about you rejecting my friendship proposal, because it's not working." He told me with an amused look on his face

I bit my lip.

"We can try, Ronald, but I'm telling you ahead of time that I am not an exciting person."

"First step," He told me with a grin, "Is to stop calling me Ronald. It takes way to long to say and makes me sound like a sophisticated snob. Call me Ron."

"Ron," I smiled, liking the feel of his nickname on my lips, "My sucky social life isn't why I wanted to have this little meeting. Music is."

"Okay, 'Mione, sell me on this musical idea of yours."

And there you have it, three hours of hard work of you to pick apart! I think I did a pretty good job of laying down background information, establishing Ron and Hermione's characters and the beginning of the plot.

I'd love to hear your suggestions, constructive criticism and praise if you have any.

Go ahead and click that review button. ~Ali

Disclaimer: Harry Potter belongs to J.K. Rowling and not me. No copyright infringement is intended. The poem above belongs to heyxtherexalicia, and may not be used without authorization.