I still do not, and do not claim to, own Harry Potter or J.K. Rowling. I still do not, and never will, intend to make any money from this or any other fanfiction.
This was a hard chapter to write, but I hope I did Ron justice. It's crucial I got this one right. Also, you can safely skip Ron's Massive Quidditch Tirade if you already know about Quidditch, as it kind of goes on for a bit. I hope you enjoy, and please write a review or PM me with any constructive criticism or praise; it makes me happy to know people have read this.
Ron didn't quite know why he was surprised to find a girl standing in the doorway of his compartment. It wasn't as if the compartments were segregated by sex. On the contrary, the compartments weren't segregated at all, and any student could sit anywhere they're welcome. It was just something about her that seemed...
"Has anyone seen a toad?" asked the girl in a pushy sort of voice. "Neville's lost one."
She had very large bushy hair, falling down past her shoulders in tight brown curls. She had a large smile, which was an odd juxtaposition with her bossy voice. Ron reckoned she didn't know how she came off; nobody would want to seem that demanding on a first meeting.
"We've already told him we haven't seen it," said Ron to the girl. She, however, was staring at his wand, which was still held awkwardly in the air as they spoke.
"Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see it, then," said the girl. She can't be a teacher, can she?
"Er - all right," said Ron. He cleared his throat and incanted,
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow,
turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."
Ron waved his wand to no avail, for Scabbers still slept.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" asked the girl. "Well, it's not very good, is it? I've tried a few simple spells just for practice and it's all worked for me. Nobody in my family's magic at all, it was ever such a surprise when I got my letter, but I was ever so pleased, of course, I mean, it's the very best school of witchcraft there is, I've heard - I've learned all our course books by heart, of course, I just hope it will be enough - I'm Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"
She said this all very fast.
Hermione Granger, thought Ron. Huh. Harry and Ron shared a look, and Ron was pleased to find that Harry looked just as taken aback as Ron felt. Were we supposed to read through our books already? Ron thought, worried.
"I'm Ron Weasley," muttered Ron.
"Harry Potter," said Harry.
"Are you really?" asked Hermione Granger. "I know all about you, of course - I got a few extra books for background reading, and you're in Modern Magical History and The Rise and Fall of the Dark Arts and Great Wizarding Events of the Twentieth Century."
"Am I?" asked Harry.
"Goodness, didn't you know? I'd have found out everything I could if it was me." Hermione Granger started talking fast again. "Do either of you know what House you'll be in? I've been asking around, and I hope I'm in Gryffindor, it sounds by far the best; I hear Dumbledore himself was in it, but I suppose Ravenclaw wouldn't be too bad... Anyway, we'd better go and look for Neville's toad. You two had better change, you know, I expect we'll be there soon."
And Hermione Granger left, bringing Neville with her. Does she think she's my mum? Honestly, 'you had better get dressed, we're almost there.' You'd think I couldn't go to the loo on my own, the way she acted. I bet it was that stupid spell... made a bad impression already. Last thing I need is my classmates thinking I'm a dunce.
"Whatever house I'm in, I hope she's not in it," said Ron, throwing his wand back in his trunk. "Stupid spell - George gave it to me, bet he knew it was a dud."
"What House are your brothers in?" asked Harry.
"Gryffindor," said Ron. "Mum and Dad were in it, too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not. I don't suppose Ravenclaw would be too bad, but imagine if they put me in Slytherin."
Ron felt fit to burst with the gloom these thoughts brung. Ron had been bothered by them all summer.
"That's the House Vol-, I mean, You-Know-Who was in?" asked Harry.
"Yeah," Ron answered, flopping back into his seat, trying to calm his nerves.
"You know," said Harry, "I think the ends of Scabbers' whiskers are a bit lighter. So what do your oldest brothers do now that they've left, anyway?"
"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons," said Ron, "and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts. Did you hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I don't suppose you get that with the Muggles - someone tried to rob a high security vault."
"Really? What happened to them?" asked Harry.
"Nothing, that's why it's such big news. They haven't been caught. My dad says it must've been a powerful Dark wizard to get round Gringotts, but they don't think they took anything, that's what's odd. 'Course, everyone gets scared when something like this happens in case You-Know-Who's behind it."
Harry appeared to be thinking. After a few moments of silence, Ron changed the subject.
"What's your Quidditch team?"
"Er - I don't know any," confessed Harry.
"What!" How can a man live like that? "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world."
And Ron was off, talking even faster than Hermione Granger had done.
"You see, it's played on broomsticks up in the air. There's three Chasers, two Beaters, one Keeper, and one Seeker. The Chasers try and get the Quaffle through the hoops at each end of the pitch, high in the air. The Beaters try and protect the players of their own team from two nasty balls, called Bludgers, by hitting them at the other team's players. The Keeper tries to stop the other team's Chasers from scoring a goal on their side. And the Seeker is seperate from the others, he spends the game looking for a special ball called the Golden Snitch, a very tiny winged ball that flies around the pitch very fast, hiding and dashing. It's a real pain trying to find it, and even more so to catch it. But if the Seeker does catch the Snitch, it's an immediate 150 points to his team, and the game ends. They've got to be careful, though, because if the opponents are good, which they usually are, they could be up more than a 150 points, and the team that caught the Snitch will lose anyway. At Hogwarts, catching the Snitch is usually an instant win, but sometimes you'll get really interesting games that go on for hours. I think the record is something like a month or so, and they had to keep switching out players due to exhaustion. Oh, it's great, Harry, you'll love it. Have you ever flown a - no, I guess you haven't. Well, it's the best feeling in the world, flying on a broom. I want be Quidditch Captain someday, but I'm not good enough now. I play at home with my brothers, but not so much now that Bill and Charlie are gone off. Percy doesn't care much for playing, he prefers to watch, but sometimes we can convince him to come up and play. Ginny doesn't know how to fly yet, I don't think. I've never seen her fly, anyway. Oh, Ginny is my little sister, you saw her on the platform, remember? Yeah. Well, my favorite professional team is the Chudley Cannons. They're not the most popular, but they're damn good when they get on a roll, their keeper's probably one of the best -"
Ron's fanatical tirade was interrupted by the compartment doors sliding open. In walked a pompous looking boy the same age as Harry and Ron, flanked by an entourage of two very large boys. He was blonde with sharp features and pale skin. His swagger and scowl reminded Ron a lot of how Percy had been acting since becoming Prefect, as if he owned the train. Ron already wasn't fond of the boy.
"Is it true?" said the boy. "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, is it?"
"Yes," said Harry.
"Oh, this is Crabbe and Goyle," said the boy. "And my name's Malfoy, Draco Malfoy."
That's who he is! Thought he looked familiar. Thinks he's made of gold, just like his dad. Ron tried to hide the laugh bubbling up inside him with a cough. It hadn't worked well, though.
"Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask who you are. My father told me all the Weasleys have red hair, freckles, and more children than they can afford."
It took considerable self control for Ron to remain seated calmly. The boy turned to Harry, now ignoring Ron's existence completely.
"You'll soon find out some wizarding families are much better than others, Potter. You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there." He held out his hand for Harry to shake.
But Harry didn't.
"I think I can tell who the wrong sort are for myself, thanks," said Harry coolly. Malfoy's face went slightly pink, like an exceptionally scared flamingo.
"I'd be careful if I were you, Potter," said Malfoy slowly. "Unless you're a bit politer you'll go the same way as your parents. They didn't know what was good for them, either. You hang around with riffraff like the Weasleys and that Hagrid, and it'll rub off on you."
Ron couldn't help standing up, but it didn't matter, because Harry was right with him, ready to take this boy down.
"Say that again," challenged Ron, anger burning his face.
"Oh, you're going to fight us, are you?" asked Malfoy, sneering.
"Unless you get out now," said Harry.
"But we don't feel like leaving, do we, boys? We've eaten all our food and you still seem to have some." One of the boys reached for one of Harry's chocolate frogs.
Ron leapt forward, and would have struck the large boy nearest him on the nose, if the boy hadn't jumped back just as quickly. He was yelling and waving his hand around.
Scabbers had bitten him! The boy flapped his arms around, hollering with pain and fear, and Scabbers finally let go, slamming into the window and falling onto the seat below. Malfoy and his bodyguards fled immediately, and moments later, Hermione Granger appeared, alone this time.
"What has been going on?" she asked, looking at the candy that has been strewn all over the place in the fight. Ron picked up Scabbers by the tail.
"I think he's been knocked out," Ron said to Harry. "No - I don't believe it - he's gone back to sleep." If rats could snore...
"You've met Malfoy before?" Ron asked Harry.
Harry explained how he had met Malfoy in Diagon Alley.
"I've heard of his family," said Ron darkly. "They were some of the first to come back to our side after You-Know-Who disappeared. Said they'd been bewitched. My dad doesn't believe it. He says Malfoy's father didn't need an excuse to go over to the Dark Side."
Hermione Granger was still there. Ron turned toward her.
"Can I help you with something?" Ron asked.
"You'd better hurry up and put your robes on, I've just been up to the front to ask the conductor, and he says we're nearly there. You haven't been fighting, have you? You'll be in trouble before we even get there!"
"Scabbers has been fighting, not us!" said Ron, aggravated by the accusation. "Would you mind leaving while we change?"
"All right - I only came in here because people outside are behaving very childishly, racing up and down the corridors," said Hermione Granger in a sniffy voice. "And you've got dirt on your nose, by the way, did you know?"
Ron glared as Hermione Granger left the compartment.
Ron and Harry had taken off their jackets and pulled on their robes when suddenly a voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
Ron now felt very nervous. He and Harry stuffed their pockets with the remaining sweets and joined the crowd forming in the corridor outside their compartment. The train slowed and finally stopped. Everyone moved out the door and onto a small, dark platform.
A gruff voice loudly shouted out, "Firs' years! Firs' years, over here!" Ron looked for where the voice came from, and was shocked to see a lantern held by a very tall man, his dimly lit face towering over the crowd, nearly twice as tall as the tallest seventh years. The face looked at Harry and asked, "All right there, Harry?"
Must be the gamekeeper, thought Ron. Ron had heard that the gamekeeper Rubeus Hagrid was massive, but Ron hadn't thought anybody could be that tall.
"C'mon, follow me - any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now!" said the gamekeeper.
At least he's friendly, Ron thought as he followed the rest of the first years off of the platform and into some trees. Ron took this opportunity to wipe the dirt off of his nose.
Neville, the boy who had lost his toad on the train, sniffed once in a while, but it was a few minutes before anyone spoke.
"Yeh'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid announced. "Jus' round this bend here."
Gasps and "oohs" and "aahs" were uttered as the path opened into the shore of a vast lake. Across the lake, atop a mountain, sat the castle of Hogwarts, whose many turrets and towers rose into the night sky, glittering light from windows blending in beautifully with the countless stars above them. Ron's stomach did a bit of a leap at the sight.
"No more'n four to a boat!" called the gamekeeper, pointing to a fleet of small boats bobbing on the shore. Ron and Harry got into a boat, followed by Neville and Hermione. Hagrid had taken up a whole boat by himself.
"Everyone in?" he shouted. "Right then - FORWARD!"
And the boats were off, floating across the black waters gently and peacefully. Everyone was staring at the castle as they approached the high cliffs it sat upon. Even Draco Malfoy, Ron noticed, had his face set in a sort of reverent stare. They continued floating toward the cliffside, and Ron worried for a moment that they'd collide with the rock, but then:
"Heads down!" yelled the gamekeeper, and they all obeyed, for the boats passed under a thick sheet of ivy hanging off of the cliffside, and they found themselves in a dark underground tunnel. They stopped somewhere underneath the castle, where they all climbed out onto a gravelly sort of underground harbor.
"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" the gamekeeper asked, looking at Neville.
"Trevor!" cried Neville, who gratefully took the toad into his arms.
They all followed the gamekeeper up a sloping passageway through the tunnel, which came out at a huge sloping lawn, covered in damp grass. They were in dark shadow under the silhouette of the castle, which seemed even more impossibly huge up close. They walked up the lawn toward a huge oak front door.
"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?" asked the gamekeeper.
He raised a giant fist and knocked three times on the castle door.
