Disclaimer: I forgot to mention…I don't own Harry Potter. I'm only playing.
Hermione pulled her black pea coat tighter around her figure as the chilly air of King's Cross chilled her to the bone. She watched several first years giving thin-lipped smiles to their parents, not wanting to reveal that they were terrified to leave home for the first time. Hermione smiled. She remembered how petrified she'd been to go to Hogwarts. She felt a sense of nostalgia at the realization that this would be the last time she'd board the Hogwarts Express, last time she'd have to lug her heavy trunks onto the train and awkwardly search for Ron and Harry. She swallowed a lump rising in her throat and tugged her trunk behind her, ready to board the train. "Bye Mum. Bye Dad." She smiled back at her parents. Mrs. Granger waved uncomfortably to Hermione as she eyed a man with long, black hair and green robes holding a tiny frog in his palm. Her parents were well-meaning, of course, but she understood that they were still uneasy with the unfamiliar. Hermione struggled for a few seconds to load her trunks up onto the train until her father rushed forward, chuckling, to help shove them aboard. "Thanks." She gave him a quick kiss to the forehead and disappeared into the train.
Hermione searched several compartments until she peaked into one towards the back and found Ron and Harry gleefully eating Chocolate Frogs. "Ron! Harry!" She dashed forward to be greeted by two warm hugs. "
Mione', how are you? It's been a long summer, hasn't it?" Ron grinned widely at Hermione and she noticed with hesitation that he'd finally grown to suit his hair. Rather than looking clownish, it now looked quite handsome. And of course, he was taller. Ron never seemed to stop growing. "I'm great." Crookshanks was now whining incessantly from his carrier. "Don't let that thing out, Herm." She flashed a glare in his direction, twisting her lips into an annoyed frown, pulling Crookshanks into her arms and petting his head while he purred.
"Anyway," she shot one more look at Ron. "How are you, Harry? How have the Dursley's been? Not too awful, I hope."
"They're bad. At least they left to myself mostly, this summer"
"Good." Hermione smiled, leaning her head against the window of the train, the sunlight warming her cheek. It was then that she felt herself floating away, out the window, into the bright sky. Ron and Harry were wrapped up in a Quidditch conversation. Ron and Harry had never left her out of a conversation. Usually when the three were together, especially at the beginning of the year, they shared crazy summer stories and antics. They'd fill themselves up on candy and laugh until they felt sick. But this time was different. Ron and Harry had seemed happy to see her, no doubt. But their interest seemed to dissipate there. They hadn't even asked about her trip to Spain. She had definitely mentioned it in her letters. She uncrossed and recrossed her legs, lifting her head up.
"Spain was good." She blurted out, looking hopefully at Ron and Harry for some sort of answer.
"Good to hear." Ron's eyes, she noticed, were awkwardly big as he answered her. He looked at her, obviously confused, before turning his head back to Harry and continuing their conversation. "I'm going to go see what's going on with everyone else." She said it, but not really. Her voice was lowered, part in indignation the other in sadness. She'd never felt so distant from her best friends. Harry and Ron just nodded after her as she placed Crookshanks into his carrier (much to his dismay) and left the compartment.
Hermione wandered the hallways, not sure where she was headed, several times reprimanded by the snack-cart woman for walking on a moving vehicle. Hermione ended up finding an empty compartment in the middle of train. She cracked open the window and let thesun hit her cheeks harshly. Everything felt foreign. Nothing had changed with her, at least, she thought. She was still bookish, know-it-all Hermione, the girl who treasured education above all things. She tugged at the drooping hem of her white sock as she frowned. She just wanted everything to be the same. She hated change. Above all, she wanted to go back to Ron and Harry's compartment, pop a chocolate frog in her mouth, scold Ron for chewing with his mouth open, and tell them about the dragon she'd seen in Spain. But that wasn't going to happen now, was it? Hermione peeled off the warm coat, setting it on the seat beside her. She was dressed plainly, as usual. It was then that she heard a knock at the compartment. "Come in." Part of her hoped it was Ron or Harry, coming to apologize for the way they'd neglected her earlier. At first, when she saw the shock of red hair, she'd thought it was Ron and her heart had jumped. At least she was partially right. It was a Weasley. It was Ginny.
"Hey Hermione!" Ginny gripped, plopping down into the seat next to her. Hermione had always considered Ginny a friend, but as far as similarities go, the girls had none. Ginny was a spitfire. Years ago, she'd graduated from a shy, Harry Potter worshipping fourteen year old, and transformed into a firecracker. She wasn't afraid to wear makeup, or wear tight clothes that showed her off. Hermione secretly envied Ginny for her confidence.
"Hi, Ginny. How are you?"
"I'm spectacular!" Ginny stared at Hermione for a second, with wide blue eyes. "I've missed you. Why didn't you come visit?"
"You…never asked." Hermione shrugged. The truth was, Hermione had often thought of visiting the Weasley home. But she was much too afraid to be turned away.
"You know you're always welcome." Ginny brushed a crimson strand of hair away from her face, smiling. "You look different."
"I do?" Hermione looked down at her plain black top and cream-colored pants
"Yes, you do. Older. Or something." Ginny cocked her head. "Sadder." Hermione felt shocked by Ginny's blatant statement. Although it was true.
"No. I don't. I'm perfectly happy, Ginny. Don't just assume things." She turned her head to focus on the scenery outside. Ginny, made uncomfortable by Hermione's brash words, attempted to change the subject.
"Head girl. You must be proud."
"I suppose so." Hermione turned back to Ginny, thankful for the subject change and continued on a conversation that was bland…but comforting, nonetheless.
Hermione was awoken by her head lazily thumping against the window of the train. She sat up, wincing, and pressed a few fingers to her forehead, feeling a nasty bump starting to form. Ginny was curled up across from her, head tucked into her arms. "Ginny," Hermione shook Ginny's sleeping form, "I think we're here." Ginny blinked several times, rubbing her eyes.
"It's cold." Ginny rubbed her bare arms, shivering.
"Here," Hermione handed Ginny her pea coat. "This is pretty warm." Ginny nodded and thanked Hermione, putting the jacket on. She looked ridiculous. Hermione was thin, but much curvier than Ginny, who was much more of a bean pole. Her curveless shape swam helplessly in the coat. Hermione scooted to the edge of the compartment and slid the door open. She could see students wandering out as she peered out. Hermione, followed by Ginny, got her trunks from Ron and Harry's compartment and exited the train.
Hermione and Ginny sat side by side in the Great Hall, watching the sorting go on. "Look at her shirt. I'm going with Hufflepuff."
"Can you really tell a house by their clothing, Ginny?" Hermione raised her eyebrows incredulously at Ginny.
"Hufflepuff!" The sorting hat shouted. Ginny turned to Hermione, a proud smirk on her face.
"Told you." Hermione tuned Ginny out as she scanned the Gryffindor table. Ron and Harry were sitting down the table with Neville and Seamus. Ron caught Hermione's eyes and waved. Hermione gave him a small wave and turned back to Ginny. "Harry's gotten quite cute, don't you think?" Hermione shook her head, waving her hands in front of her face in disgust.
"Ginny. Don't talk about Harry like that. He's like my brother!" Hermione glared at Ginny. It was obvious she'd been carrying a torch for Harry since her first year. "Why don't you make a move on him if you think he's so attractive?" Ginny's face flushed, turning a bright red.
"N-no! I just said he's gotten cute. It's not like I fancy him, Hermione." Hermione shrugged.
"Ok, Ginny." Suddenly Ginny squealed.
"Ooh! Look at him. He's improved, hasn't he?" Hermione eyes followed Ginny's finger to the Slytherin table. This couldn't be good.
"Who?"
"Malfoy!" Hermione didn't even bother to look.
"Malfoy?" Hermione's jaw dropped. "You hate him. He's…Malfoy!"
"He's an ass, Herm, I'll give you that. But he's a good-looking ass. That's fair."
"I'm disappointed, Ginny Weasley." Hermione looked down at her food, not feeling very hungry.
"Just look. Please?" Hermione shrugged and looked over at the Slytherin table, her eyes finding Draco Malfoy. He was sandwiched between Crabbe and Goyle, of course. Pansy Parkinson was sitting across from him, batting her eyes ridiculously. Hermione couldn't exactly deny that Malfoy had changed. He'd grown taller, from what she could see, and his face had matured. His boyish and aristocratic looks had grown to suit his face.
"He's not good-looking, Ginny. Not one bit." Hermione assured her, rolling her eyes.
But in her heart, she knew this was a lie.