(A/N: I've been trying for some time, waiting for inspiration, to write a
Harry Potter fanfiction. Well, the little video parody by Katie, the
movie, and a little story on fanfiction helped me along. All in all, this
goes out to Ashley, who is moving, and whom I will SORELY miss. She
reminds me of Hermione. (Studying, stopping fights, always understanding
first, and above all, not above her emotions) So, so long Ashley, and heres
to Hogwarts: A Friendship, whose characters belong to ONLY Rowling, and not
me, long with all those I mention in this story.)
Hogwarts: A Friendship
By MorganRay
Chapter One: Old Parchment
Dilapidated buildings blocked most of the golden sunrays from the inside of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Yet, some stray beams fell through scummy windows, in need of a cleaning, onto the warped floorboards, straying across a stack of new books, quite out of place in the shabby room.
Long, copper brown locks fell into the face of the girl sorting through this horde of books. She quickly alphabetized them, by author, before packing them down into one of her trunks. Deep, piercing brown eyes searched over her room, making sure she hadn't forgot one. Along with the books, she'd throw in a role of parchment or two that she'd kept notes on.
Her detail extended to her school wardrobe of black, gray, and beige skirts, although today she wore jeans and a polo shirt. She carefully packed her knee high socks and crisp, white blouses. Carefully polished black shoes sat on the floor, ready to be placed on the books, and a pile of freshly folded robes to be placed on those.
Hermione paused, for a brief second, hearing frantic steps in the hall. The door burst open as Ron Weasley entered, Hogwarts robes in a wrinkled mess in one hand, the binding of a book in the other. "Hermione, help me pack!" His blue hazel eyes pleaded with her brown ones.
"Honestly, Ron, you're almost sixteen, why can't you do this?" Rolling her eyes, Hermione marched Ron down the hallway.
The little golden rays of light revealed a disheveled room, almost as grungy as the ancient house. Piles of ripped, food stained parchment laid piled around the unmade bed. Piles of socks, shirts, jeans, and a bundle of robes and sweaters lay piled in heaps near the trunk with rusted metal holding it together.
"Okay, you fold these," Hermione threw Ron part of the clothes heap. "I'll put your books and that glob of parchment in order." Hermione briskly made for the parchment, afraid most of the underwear might not be clean.
She grabbed old essays, notes, and tons of parchment filled with Ron and Harry's tic-tac-toe games. She began pitching. "Hermione! Why are you throwing those away?"
"They're worthless, Ron," she tucked her hair futilely behind her ears before it fell in her face again.
"They're priceless parts of history," Ron sulked from the clothes blob.
"They're tic-tac-toe games," Hermione pitched the last one. "Don't worry, I saved your essays."
"Oh, you can toss those," Ron shrugged, trying to match his socks. Hermione began on another clot of paper. Half afraid to find rats in this one, she poked it first. When nothing attacked, she dug head first, finding more tic-tac-toe games.
"Can you throw anything away, honestly?" Hermione muttered to herself. Plenty of Chocolate Frog cards and wrappers got mixed into the mess, and she promptly disposed of those.
"My cards!" Ron raced towards the trashcan, fishing out his cards. "You monster, you threw away my chocolate frog cards!" Ron's face contorted in unbelievable horror.
"They're worthless, Ron, and at least I'm a clean monster," Hermione picked up an aged piece of parchment. For Ron's standards, it was in good condition. She unfolded it, squinting at faint ink lines.
"Umph!" Hermione toppled back as Ron yanked the paper away. "What was that for? I was looking at that."
"It's mine, and you should keep your nose out of my stuff," Ron pulled the paper close like a pet. He stroked it, glaring at Hermione.
"If you want to get packed, your stuff is my business!" Hermione clenched her fists, standing up. The blood rushed to her cheeks, as she became thoroughly frustrated.
"Get off!" Ron took a step back, tripping over the trashcan. Hermione lunged at the paper, falling over Ron. She dug her short nails into the paper. In one swift moment, she tugged it from his grip, rushing down the stairs. "HERMIONE!"
Ron took the stairs three at a time, jumped the last four, and caught Hermione scrambling around the staircase. He pounced at her legs, tripping her in mid-flight. Hermione's body collided with the doxy eaten rugs. Ron climbed over Hermione's legs, grasping for the paper.
"Give it back!" Ron ripped the unfurled paper away from Hermione.
"Get off!" Hermione craned her neck around, coughing up dust. "Ron!" Realizing he was in a provocative position, Ron stumbled off Hermione. "I swear, Ron . . ."
"Ronald, what's going on?" The slightly chunky Mrs. Weasley, sweat all over her face, stormed out of the kitchen. Her cheeks, ruddy from working none stop in the basement kitchen, were accented from yelling at Ron.
"Mum, we're just . . ."
"Packing, Mrs. Weasley, it's just that . . . we played a quick game of tag," Hermione stammered, slightly blushing as she smoothed her polo shirt. "I was helping Ron pack."
"Good," Mrs. Weasley smiled, already going back to the kitchen. "Good girl, Hermione, and Ronald, don't you give her trouble!"
They ascended the stairs, Ron giving Hermione squinty death looks. Back in Ron's room, where the mess had barely improved, Hermione shut the door. She paused, checking for any Extendable Ears. "Ron, you drew that?"
Ron's freckled face looked like a tomato's cousin. He stuffed the paper in his tattered jean pocket. "Y-yes, but only in my first year," Ron stuttered. He quickly turned, trying to fold a shirt.
"Ron, that's better than I've ever drawn in my whole life," Hermione stood fixed by the door. She took a step towards Ron. "Ron, you're not folding that right."
Proceeding to fold the shirt, Hermione left Ron gazing at his feet. "Hermione, don't tell anyone 'bout that, okay?" Ron's face flushed again. "Please?"
"Ron, it's lovely!" Hermione held out her hand, now free of the shirt, for Ron's paper. He handed the crumpled piece of paper to her. She unfolded it, staring at the sketchy, remarkably similar cartoon figures of Harry, Ron, and herself.
"It's nothing," Ron snatched it back. "I've done better, really. I've always wanted to paint a picture, in the castle." At this, Ron hung his head to keep Hermione from noticing his crimson completion.
"I barely draw stick figures," Hermione laughed, plopping down the tangled blankets. "Really, Ron, it's beautiful, especially if you did it during the first year."
"It's nothing compared to all those O.W.L.S. you'll be getting," Ron sank down beside Hermione. "I'm lucky if I can take a N.E.W.T. class."
"You can always be an artist," Hermione folded another shirt compulsively. "You're good enough."
"What do you want to be?" Ron fixed his eyes on Hermione's. With a frown, and a bite of her lip, Hermione took extra long in folding the shirt.
"I don't know, Ron," she whispered, staring back at him. "I've been thinking about it forever, and I thought I knew, but I don't."
Ron's jaw dropped. "YOU don't know?" Ron gaped as if staring at a corpse brought back to life.
"Yes, Ron," Hermione smiled slightly at his stupid gaze. "Yes, Ron, I don't know. It's weird, to think our letters will be here in a couple days."
"Yeah, a week and we'll be back on the train," Ron grinned, rubbing his hands in excitement. "More chocolate frogs."
"Our sixth year, Ron," Hermione's melancholy sigh got Ron's attention. He snapped out of the chocolate frog reverie to gaze at the spacey stare of Hermione. Her vacant expression stared at some thing else, long in the past.
"Do you remember when we first got our letters?" Hermione whispered, remembering the day quite well herself. Ron paused, thinking of the day the pack of Weasley letters smacked into the window with Errol. He smirked.
"Oh yeah," Ron nodded, and Hermione sighed. Thus, had begun their adventure, when Hermione didn't want one, and Ron yearned for one.
(A/N: Okay, well, I reposted this chapter, to fix mistakes, and change the title from RON AND HERMINE to HOGWARTS: A FRIENDSHIP. Okay, same story, exciting title. So, what do you think? Thanks as always, MorganRay.)
Hogwarts: A Friendship
By MorganRay
Chapter One: Old Parchment
Dilapidated buildings blocked most of the golden sunrays from the inside of Number Twelve, Grimmauld Place. Yet, some stray beams fell through scummy windows, in need of a cleaning, onto the warped floorboards, straying across a stack of new books, quite out of place in the shabby room.
Long, copper brown locks fell into the face of the girl sorting through this horde of books. She quickly alphabetized them, by author, before packing them down into one of her trunks. Deep, piercing brown eyes searched over her room, making sure she hadn't forgot one. Along with the books, she'd throw in a role of parchment or two that she'd kept notes on.
Her detail extended to her school wardrobe of black, gray, and beige skirts, although today she wore jeans and a polo shirt. She carefully packed her knee high socks and crisp, white blouses. Carefully polished black shoes sat on the floor, ready to be placed on the books, and a pile of freshly folded robes to be placed on those.
Hermione paused, for a brief second, hearing frantic steps in the hall. The door burst open as Ron Weasley entered, Hogwarts robes in a wrinkled mess in one hand, the binding of a book in the other. "Hermione, help me pack!" His blue hazel eyes pleaded with her brown ones.
"Honestly, Ron, you're almost sixteen, why can't you do this?" Rolling her eyes, Hermione marched Ron down the hallway.
The little golden rays of light revealed a disheveled room, almost as grungy as the ancient house. Piles of ripped, food stained parchment laid piled around the unmade bed. Piles of socks, shirts, jeans, and a bundle of robes and sweaters lay piled in heaps near the trunk with rusted metal holding it together.
"Okay, you fold these," Hermione threw Ron part of the clothes heap. "I'll put your books and that glob of parchment in order." Hermione briskly made for the parchment, afraid most of the underwear might not be clean.
She grabbed old essays, notes, and tons of parchment filled with Ron and Harry's tic-tac-toe games. She began pitching. "Hermione! Why are you throwing those away?"
"They're worthless, Ron," she tucked her hair futilely behind her ears before it fell in her face again.
"They're priceless parts of history," Ron sulked from the clothes blob.
"They're tic-tac-toe games," Hermione pitched the last one. "Don't worry, I saved your essays."
"Oh, you can toss those," Ron shrugged, trying to match his socks. Hermione began on another clot of paper. Half afraid to find rats in this one, she poked it first. When nothing attacked, she dug head first, finding more tic-tac-toe games.
"Can you throw anything away, honestly?" Hermione muttered to herself. Plenty of Chocolate Frog cards and wrappers got mixed into the mess, and she promptly disposed of those.
"My cards!" Ron raced towards the trashcan, fishing out his cards. "You monster, you threw away my chocolate frog cards!" Ron's face contorted in unbelievable horror.
"They're worthless, Ron, and at least I'm a clean monster," Hermione picked up an aged piece of parchment. For Ron's standards, it was in good condition. She unfolded it, squinting at faint ink lines.
"Umph!" Hermione toppled back as Ron yanked the paper away. "What was that for? I was looking at that."
"It's mine, and you should keep your nose out of my stuff," Ron pulled the paper close like a pet. He stroked it, glaring at Hermione.
"If you want to get packed, your stuff is my business!" Hermione clenched her fists, standing up. The blood rushed to her cheeks, as she became thoroughly frustrated.
"Get off!" Ron took a step back, tripping over the trashcan. Hermione lunged at the paper, falling over Ron. She dug her short nails into the paper. In one swift moment, she tugged it from his grip, rushing down the stairs. "HERMIONE!"
Ron took the stairs three at a time, jumped the last four, and caught Hermione scrambling around the staircase. He pounced at her legs, tripping her in mid-flight. Hermione's body collided with the doxy eaten rugs. Ron climbed over Hermione's legs, grasping for the paper.
"Give it back!" Ron ripped the unfurled paper away from Hermione.
"Get off!" Hermione craned her neck around, coughing up dust. "Ron!" Realizing he was in a provocative position, Ron stumbled off Hermione. "I swear, Ron . . ."
"Ronald, what's going on?" The slightly chunky Mrs. Weasley, sweat all over her face, stormed out of the kitchen. Her cheeks, ruddy from working none stop in the basement kitchen, were accented from yelling at Ron.
"Mum, we're just . . ."
"Packing, Mrs. Weasley, it's just that . . . we played a quick game of tag," Hermione stammered, slightly blushing as she smoothed her polo shirt. "I was helping Ron pack."
"Good," Mrs. Weasley smiled, already going back to the kitchen. "Good girl, Hermione, and Ronald, don't you give her trouble!"
They ascended the stairs, Ron giving Hermione squinty death looks. Back in Ron's room, where the mess had barely improved, Hermione shut the door. She paused, checking for any Extendable Ears. "Ron, you drew that?"
Ron's freckled face looked like a tomato's cousin. He stuffed the paper in his tattered jean pocket. "Y-yes, but only in my first year," Ron stuttered. He quickly turned, trying to fold a shirt.
"Ron, that's better than I've ever drawn in my whole life," Hermione stood fixed by the door. She took a step towards Ron. "Ron, you're not folding that right."
Proceeding to fold the shirt, Hermione left Ron gazing at his feet. "Hermione, don't tell anyone 'bout that, okay?" Ron's face flushed again. "Please?"
"Ron, it's lovely!" Hermione held out her hand, now free of the shirt, for Ron's paper. He handed the crumpled piece of paper to her. She unfolded it, staring at the sketchy, remarkably similar cartoon figures of Harry, Ron, and herself.
"It's nothing," Ron snatched it back. "I've done better, really. I've always wanted to paint a picture, in the castle." At this, Ron hung his head to keep Hermione from noticing his crimson completion.
"I barely draw stick figures," Hermione laughed, plopping down the tangled blankets. "Really, Ron, it's beautiful, especially if you did it during the first year."
"It's nothing compared to all those O.W.L.S. you'll be getting," Ron sank down beside Hermione. "I'm lucky if I can take a N.E.W.T. class."
"You can always be an artist," Hermione folded another shirt compulsively. "You're good enough."
"What do you want to be?" Ron fixed his eyes on Hermione's. With a frown, and a bite of her lip, Hermione took extra long in folding the shirt.
"I don't know, Ron," she whispered, staring back at him. "I've been thinking about it forever, and I thought I knew, but I don't."
Ron's jaw dropped. "YOU don't know?" Ron gaped as if staring at a corpse brought back to life.
"Yes, Ron," Hermione smiled slightly at his stupid gaze. "Yes, Ron, I don't know. It's weird, to think our letters will be here in a couple days."
"Yeah, a week and we'll be back on the train," Ron grinned, rubbing his hands in excitement. "More chocolate frogs."
"Our sixth year, Ron," Hermione's melancholy sigh got Ron's attention. He snapped out of the chocolate frog reverie to gaze at the spacey stare of Hermione. Her vacant expression stared at some thing else, long in the past.
"Do you remember when we first got our letters?" Hermione whispered, remembering the day quite well herself. Ron paused, thinking of the day the pack of Weasley letters smacked into the window with Errol. He smirked.
"Oh yeah," Ron nodded, and Hermione sighed. Thus, had begun their adventure, when Hermione didn't want one, and Ron yearned for one.
(A/N: Okay, well, I reposted this chapter, to fix mistakes, and change the title from RON AND HERMINE to HOGWARTS: A FRIENDSHIP. Okay, same story, exciting title. So, what do you think? Thanks as always, MorganRay.)