Author's Note: Good morning! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting! I hope this story turns out as good as y'all are expecting.


Chapter II

The summer ended as September rolled around. At 10AM, Hermione and her parents were loading her items into the boot of the car outside their townhouse at South Kensington. Her magical trunk was more than spacious enough for her school clothes and casual clothes, her stationary and school supplies, and of course, her books. Mr. Granger was quite thankful for the feather-light charms as the trunk would likely crush his car, let alone his hands and muscles.

They climbed onto the car and Mr Granger headed for Kings Cross. The streets were less packed now that rush-hour was over, though typical London traffic remained. They passed by Hyde Park Corner before travelling up Edgware Road and then turning on to Marylebone Road, passing Regent's Park, Euston, and the old red brick building of St. Pancras. Mr Granger drove around Kings Cross a while before they found a parking space, and they all climbed out, walking into the station at exactly 10:45AM.

Standing between Platform 9 and 10, Hermione hugged her parents tightly. "Bye, mama. Bye, daddy. I'm going to miss you."

"We're going to miss you too, sweetheart," Mrs Granger sobbed. "Oh, I thought I wouldn't have to deal with this until you went to university, or at least until sixth form."

"You be good, yeah?" Mr Granger said from behind them, eyes slightly wet though he would deny this.

"I'll write to you every day. I promise," Hermione sniffled, "I'll be back for Christmas anyway. That's only three months and a bit away."

"Go on then," Mrs Granger said, "You don't want to miss your train."

Hermione nodded and turned around to push her trunk between platforms 9 and 10, looking back to wave at her parents as she went through the brick wall. There was darkness and then she saw the light brown bricks and heard the call of a steam train. In front of her was the magnificently red Hogwarts Express behind an ocean of people crowding on the platform.

She quickly found an entrance to the train and walked down the aisle, peeking into the different compartments subtly. It took a while, but finally she saw a familiar face in one of the compartments. Hermione pushed the door open and grinned.

"Harry!"

"Hi, Hermione," he smiled back.

"Mind if I sit with you?"

"Please," he gestured to the seat in front of him as the door closed behind her, "How was the rest of your summer?"

"I holed up in my room and read the days away but I moved to the garden when the weather was good. How was yours?"

"It was alright. I've been really excited to go to Hogwarts. Can hardly believe I'm here to be honest."

"That's fair. I hardly believe it either. I think I'm going to wake up at any moment and everyone will tell me it's all a dream. Did you get a chance to read the books?"

"Not yet, but thanks," he said, "For helping me that day."

"Oh, you don't need to thank me, Harry. That was entirely selfish – I made a friend in the process!"

Harry's smile lit up his face. He went on to tell her about his owl, Hedwig, and the half-giant man that had come to collect him and their trip to London. Hermione was fascinated by the flying motorcycle and asked him how it felt to be up in the clouds above, and he eagerly told her. Hermione gave all the right responses at the right moments, like she was extremely happy and excited for him, and Harry truly felt heard and understood by this muggleborn girl. His first friend.

The train started and houses started to fly by as they moved away from London. Hermione felt a jolt of excitement and looked at Harry. He looked equally as giddy and the both of them broke into fits of giggles.

The door of the compartment slid open again and revealed a tall lanky red-headed boy with a dark smudge on his nose, "Mind if I join you? Everywhere else is full."

Harry and Hermione looked at each other and shook their heads, and the boy sat down next to Harry. He stared at Harry before quickly looking away, and gave Hermione an awkward strained smile.

"Hey Ron." Two boys popped their head in. They were identical, red-headed and likely Ron's brother.

"Listen, we're going down the middle of the train," they said, "Lee Jordan's got a giant tarantula down there."

"Right," Ron mumbled.

"Harry. My Lady," they addressed, "did we introduce ourselves? Fred and George Weasely. And this is our brother, Ron."

"Pleased to meet you. I'm Hermione Granger," Hermione smiled at them.

"Of course, m'lady," they said in unison, "See you later then."

"Bye." The compartment door slid shut behind them as they left and Ron's eyes immediately darted back to Harry and his forehead.

"Are you really Harry Potter?" Ron blurted out.

Harry squirmed awkwardly in his seat for a brief second before Hermione cut in. "Does it even matter? He's Harry. My friend, Harry. Take it or leave it."

"Alright, don't get your knickers in a twist," Ron mumbled, "I only thought it was one of Fred and George's jokes."

"I don't get all the fuss."

"You're muggleborn, aren't you?"

"Is that a problem?" Hermione asked sharply.

"No, but it goes to show how you don't know the importance of the end of You-Know-Who," he said, "Everyone grew up with the stories about You-Know-Who and Harry Potter."

"Well, I didn't and I don't, but it's rather rude to bring up the death of one's parents in front of them and make it sound great, don't you think?" Hermione asked angrily and watched as Ron turned red, before she mellowed down and turned to Harry sheepishly, "I'm sorry, Harry. I shouldn't have said that. That was very wrong."

"It's alright, Hermione."

"Yeah, sorry mate."

"Um–" Harry hesitated in the awkward energy, "So are all your family wizards?"

"Er- Yes, I think so," Ron said, "I think Mum's got a second cousin who's an accountant, but we never talk about him."

"You must know loads of magic already," Hermione said.

"What are muggles like?"

"My aunt and uncle and cousin are horrible," Harry said gloomily, "Not all muggles are like that though."

"My uncles and cousins are fairly horrible too," Hermione nodded sympathetically, "My parents are dentists so they're usually very busy, but they're great."

"Wish I had three wizard brothers."

"Five," said Ron. For some reason, he was looking gloomy. "I'm the sixth in our family to go to Hogwarts. You could say I've got a lot to live up to. Bill and Charlie have already left – Bill was head boy and Charlie was quidditch captain. Now Percy's a prefect. Fred and George mess around a lot, but they still get really good marks and everyone thinks they're funny. Everyone expects me to do as well as the others, but if I do it's no big deal, because they did it first. You never get anything new either with five brothers. I've got Bill's old robes, Charlie's old wand, and Percy's old rat."

"But it must be nice to have brothers to help," Hermione smiled.

"I suppose so," Ron said as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a fat grey rat, which was asleep, "His name's Scabbers and he's useless, he hardly wakes up. Percy got an owl from my dad for being made prefect, but they couldn't aff– I mean, I got Scabbers instead."

Ron's ears turned pink. He seemed to think he said too much, because he went back to staring out of the window. Hermione didn't think that there was anything wrong with not being able to afford an owl, and told Ron so and how she doesn't even have a pet. Harry in turn told Ron about having to wear Dudley's old clothes and never getting proper birthday presents. Hermione frowned, but this seemed to cheer Ron up.

"...until Hagrid told me, I didn't know anything about being a wizard or about my parents or Voldemort."

Hermione leapt from her seat to hug Harry, her eyes were wet and she was trying very hard not to cry, as Ron gasped behind her.

"What?" Harry asked. He was bewildered by these reactions but he returned Hermione's hug.

"Oh, I'm so sorry Harry!"

"You said You-Know-Who's name!" said Ron, sounding both shocked and impressed.

"That's what you got from what he said!?" Hermione asked as she pulled away from the hug and sat beside Harry. She didn't notice the way she held onto his hand, nor the way he squeezed it in comfort, "It's just a name! What kind of name is Voldemort anyway?"

Harry shrugged, "I think it's French."

"I can't believe you said his name," Ron mumbled.

There was a great clattering outside in the corridor and a smiling, dimpled woman slid back their door and said, "Anything off the cart, dears?"

Harry and Hermione leapt to their feet, as Ron's ears turned pink and muttered about sandwiches. They went out into the corridor and Hermione perused the selection as Harry asked about Mars Bars.

"Why don't we have some of everything, Harry?" Hermione asked, "So we can try everything and see what we like."

Harry smiled and agreed. The woman handed them their purchase and Hermione paid the woman with 1 golden galleon, 5 silver sickles and 5 bronze knuts.

"I can pay," Harry protested.

"You can pay me back later, if you want." Hermione smiled, "Let's just bring these back first."

Hermione held the door open for Harry, and Ron stared as they brought it all back and tipped it all onto an empty seat.

"Hungry, are you?"

"Starving," Harry said and Hermione frowned, but didn't comment. He reached for a Pumpkin Pasty but Hermione handed him a Shepherd's pie.

"It'll taste awful cold if we leave it for last," Hermione said, "and we can keep the sweets with us at Hogwarts."

"Thanks, Hermione."

Ron took out a lumpy package and unwrapped it. There were four sandwiches inside. He pulled one of them apart and said, "She always forgets I don't like corned beef."

"Swap you for one of these?" Harry offered, "Is that alright, Hermione? How much do I owe you anyway?"

"You don't want this, it's all dry," said Ron.

"Go on and take it, Ron," Hermione said, "We got more than enough for the three of us. Food is always better when you get to share with friends. And it's fine, Harry. You can pay next time."

Harry tried to protest but Hermione was firm in her decision. So he relented and told Ron to have a pasty. As they feasted on food from the trolly, the sandwiches laid forgotten on the side and Hermione smiled brilliantly. She had been worried and nervous that she wouldn't be able to make any friends, but here they were.

"What are these?" Harry asked, holding up a pack of Chocolate Frogs.

"They're not really Frogs, are they?" Hermione asked, wide eyed.

"No," said Ron, "But see what the card is. I'm missing Agrippa."

"What?" Harry and Hermione asked.

"Oh, of course you wouldn't know – Chocolate Frogs have cards, inside them, you know, to collect – famous witches and wizards. I've got about five hundred, but I haven't got Agrippa or Ptolemy."

"Agrippa was a wizard? The Roman consul?" Hermione asked as Harry went ahead to open a Chocolate Frog and pick up the card.

"No, Cornelius Agrippa."

"So this is Dumbledore!"

"Don't tell me you'd never heard of Dumbledore!" said Ron, "Can I have a frog? Thanks –"

Hermione leaned over to Harry to look at the card. The man wore half-moon glasses, had a long crooked nose, and flowing silver hair, mustache and beard. Harry turned the card over and read:

ALBUS DUMBLEDORE

CURRENTLY HEADMASTER OF HOGWARTS

Considered by many the greatest wizard of modern times, Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the Dark Wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon blood, and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel. Professor Dumbledore enjoys chamber music and tenpin bowling.

Harry turned the card back over, and to their surprise, Dumbledore's face had disappeared. "He's gone!"

"Well, you can't expect him to hang around all day," said Ron, "He'll be back. I've got Morgana again and I've got six of her...do you want it? You can start collecting."

"Can I, Harry?"

"Help yourself," Harry nodded and Hermione took the card from Ron. Ron also took that as permission to open another Chocolate Frog.

"She's beautiful," Hermione commented as she looked down on the image of Morgana, "But in the muggle world, people just stay in photos."

"Do they? What, they don't move at all?" Ron asked, shocked, "Weird."

Harry and Hermione opened the Chocolate Frogs together, looking at each famous witch and wizard cards one by one. When they came upon famous people that also existed in the muggle world, Hermione would tell Harry and tell him a bit about them. Eventually, Harry reached for Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans.

"You want to be careful with those," Ron warned them, "When they say every flavour, they mean every flavour – you get all the ordinary ones like chocolate, peppermint and marmalade, but then you can get spinach, liver and tripe. George reckons he had a booger-flavoured one once."

Ron picked up a green bean, looked at it carefully, and bit into a corner.

"Bleaaaargh – see? Sprouts."

They had a good time eating the Every Flavour Beans. Harry got toast, coconut, baked bean, strawberry, curry, grass, coffee, sardine, and was even brave enough to nibble the end off a funny gray one Ron wouldn't touch, which turned out to be pepper. Hermione, on the other hand, got apple, cheese, wasabi – which caused her to cry much to the boys surprise and panic – chocolate, liver, and mustard.

The rolling fields were long gone, replaced by woods, twisting rivers and dark green hills. The compartment door opened, revealing a tearful round-faced boy. "Sorry, but have you seen a toad at all?"

When they shook their heads, he wailed, "I've lost him! He keeps getting away from me!"

"He'll turn up," Harry encouraged.

"Have you asked the prefects?" Hermione suggested, "I'm sure they'll be able to find him."

"Yes, thank you," he said miserably, "Well, if you see him…"

He left.

"I don't know why he's so bothered,"said Ron, "If I brought a toad, I'd lose it as quickly as I could. Mind you, I brought Scabbers, so I can't talk."

The rat was still snoozing on his lap.

"He might have died and you wouldn't know the difference," said Ron, "I tried to turn him yellow yesterday to make him more interesting but the spell didn't work. I'll show you, look…"

Ron rummaged around his trunk and pulled out a very battered looking wand. It was chipped in some places and something glinted white at the end. Hermione had to refrain from flinching.

"Unicorn hair's nearly poking out. Anyway," he said, clearing his throat, and pointed his wand at the rat, "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, Turn this stupid, fat rat yellow."

He waved his wand but nothing happened. Scabbers stayed grey and fast asleep.

"...I don't think that's a spell," Hermione said awkwardly.

"Stupid spell. George gave it to me – bet he knew it was a dud," Ron huffed, throwing his wand back into his trunk.

They smiled sympathetically at him, and Hermione hesitantly said, "Well, I don't know any colour changing spells but I've tried the repairing spell. Maybe I can fix your glasses, Harry?"

"Can you?" Harry said, hopeful.

"I can try," Hermione chirped.

Harry handed his glasses to her. Hermione flicked her right hand, and her wand appeared in her hand. "Reparo."

His glasses put itself back together and Hermione beamed as she handed the pair of glasses back to the boy. Ron gaped, "Where'd you learn that?"

"I read our course books," Hermione said, "I like books a lot and I didn't have much to do over the summer."

"You'll probably get into Ravenclaw then," Ron commented.

"Ravenclaw isn't bad, I suppose," Hermione contemplated, "I think Hufflepuff or Slytherin would be good too. I don't think I'm brave enough for Gryffindor."

"Slytherin?!" Ron exclaimed, "Only bad people and purebloods and people with blood prejudice go into Slytherin."

"That's the house Vol- I mean, You-Know-Who was in?" Harry asked curiously.

"Yeah," said Ron, "I'd be caught dead being friends with a Slytherin."

"Not all Slytherins are bad people," Hermione argued, "Merlin was in Slytherin and he was a great wizard, and definitely not evil."

"How would you know?" Ron challenged.

"It's in Hogwarts, a history," Hermione told him, "There's nothing wrong with being ambitious and cunning. It just means I want to be able to achieve something and do something with my life, and snakes are cool."

"But they're evil," Ron reiterated.

"Oh, don't be so prejudiced," Hermione huffed, "All the houses are equally nice."

"What house are your brothers in?" Harry cut in before they could keep arguing.

"Gryffindor," Ron said. Gloom seemed to be settling on him again. "Mum and Dad were in it too. I don't know what they'll say if I'm not."

Hermione, recognising Harry's effort to stop them from descending into another argument, followed up by asking, "What do your brothers do now that they've left Hogwarts?"

"Charlie's in Romania studying dragons, and Bill's in Africa doing something for Gringotts," Ron said, "Did you guys hear about Gringotts? It's been all over the Daily Prophet, but I suppose you don't get that with Muggles. Someone tried to rob a high security vault."

They stared. "Really? What happened to them?"

"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 is behind it."

They turned this news round their heads silently. Hermione felt a prickle of worry and astonishment. Gringotts was one of the safest places in the world and the Goblins are a fierce and proud race. The fact that something like this happened was a huge shock and Hermione wondered how the Goblins were faring.

"What's your Quidditch team?" Ron asked.

Harry and Hermione shared a look. "Er– I don't know any."

"What!" Ron looked dumbfounded, "Oh, you wait, it's the best game in the world –" And then he was off explaining all about the four balls and the positions of all the players, describing the famous games he'd been to with his brothers and the broomstick he'd like to get if he had the money. Hermione soon found herself bored with the Quidditch narrative, but was content to just listen as Ron took Harry through the finer points of the game when the compartment door slid open again.

Standing at the door were three boys. The boy in the middle had pale blonde hair, and he was flanked by two much larger boys. He was looking at Harry with great interest.

"Is it true?" he said, "They're saying all down the train that Harry Potter's in this compartment. So it's you, isn't it?"

"Who's asking?" Hermione asked before Harry could respond, "Rather rude of you, when you haven't even introduced yourselves."

The boy said carelessly, "This is Crabbe and this is Goyle. And my name's Malfoy. Draco Malfoy."

"Ah, well met Mr Crabbe and Mr Goyle," Hermione greeted them politely before turning to Malfoy with a sniff, "I suppose you're the Malfoy heir. Did your mother teach you your manners? They're quite...common...aren't they?"

Draco's cheeks tinged a slight pink as Ron gave a slight cough, which might have been hiding a snigger. "And you are?"

"Granger. Hermione Granger."

"Never heard of you," he sniffed.

"I don't associate with the rude and ill-mannered," Hermione quipped back.

Ron snickered loudly now, and Draco turned to him sharply. "No, you associate with worse. 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."

"You've been exceedingly rude, Heir Malfoy," Hermione said angrily, "I understand that the Malfoys and Weasleys have a blood feud but do not drag it in here. Either you behave yourself as the heir of an Ancient and Noble House, or you leave."

Draco looked shocked but quickly schooled his features. His eyes darted to her hair – tied back traditionally – and the simple finesse of her clothing. He bowed and reached for her hand, which she assented to, as he said, "Please accept my sincerest apologies, my lady. May we have the chance to speak privately soon."

"Accepted, Heir Malfoy," Hermione smiled softly, "Thank you."

He nodded and left the compartment, taking Crabbe and Goyle with him. Hermione turned back to look at the two boys: Ron who was gaping at her and Harry who looked confused at best. Ron sputtered, his face turning as red as his hair, "What was that?"

Hermione shook her head, "You grew up in the Wizarding World. Surely you know the etiquette and manners and traditions?"

"I don't believe in pureblood nonsense," Ron said.

"Etiquette and manners have nothing to do with blood prejudice or pureblood dogma," Hermione sighed, "It's like you're looking for a fight."

"Can you please explain?" Harry asked.

"Before coming to Hogwarts, I studied a bit of wizarding culture," Hermione explained to him, "Like what's socially acceptable. The right manners. How to address people. That kind of stuff, since the wizarding world is separate from the muggle world. What we think is okay and normal might be considered rude or scandalous to them. It's like, say, travelling to India or China and acting like you would at home. We might not think it's rude, but we might have already insulted and disrespected the local culture six times in a minute."

Harry nodded in understanding.

"It's just a load of pureblood bull, if you ask me," Ron huffed, "My parents never tried to teach us all this...pureblood prejudice."

"It's called being respectful," Hermione said sharply at the boy, who looked away, "Say, for example, my hair. I usually leave it down in the muggle world but Wizarding society and culture dictates that hair should be tied back for girls."

Harry looked confused. "Isn't that...backwards? You should be allowed to do your hair in any way you want."

"I thought so too," Hermione beamed at the boy who smiled back hesitantly, "but I also found out that for girls, our hair is sort of like an extension of our magic. So other people touching my hair would be considered very intimate since you can feel my magic. That, and it's to prevent anyone from stealing genetic material. People can impersonate you with your hair."

"Oh," Harry said, trying to process this, "I think I get it now. Can you tell me more, Hermione?"

"Sure," Hermione smiled but Ron groaned and she turned to him sharply, "If you don't want to listen in, why don't you get changed into your robes first."

Ron didn't argue, though he grumbled the whole time, as he pulled out some robes from his trunk and left the compartment. Hermione stared after him and said, "He seems like a really nice person but every time he says we're muggles, or that we wouldn't know something because we grew up with muggles, just makes me feel so stupid."

"You're far from stupid, Hermione," Harry said, "You know all this wizarding stuff that I didn't even think existed."

"Thank you, Harry. I just like to read," she smiled shyly, "Oh right, anyway, I can lend you a book on Wizarding Culture." She pulled down her trunk and rummaged through her neatly stacked piles of books. "But basically, the Wizarding world is kind of backwards to us but there are very good reasons as to why. For example, the way they pride family names. There are different types of family, and some of them are like nobility. Each family, depending on how long they've been established also have a family grimoire which are spells that only that family knows of. It's why the continuation of family lines is so important to them, and why many marry quite young. There's also some stuff regarding family magics that isn't very well explained, but it's related to family grimoires."

She pulled out the books she was looking for – 'A Comprehensive Guide to Wizarding Culture and Manners for the Young Wizard' by Johann Merrywether – and handed it to the boy, who received it gratefully.

"That, and magic helps us identify suitable and compatible partners much easier. Soul mates exist, but they're very rare so most just end up with the one they're most compatible with when they're at school. That said, it is expected for men to express their intention first to start a courtship so you might want to read up on some of those etiquettes. You wouldn't want to accidentally proposition a witch or something when you just mean to be nice."

"Thank you, Hermione," Harry said, "I'll read it soon and return it to you."

"It's alright. Take your time," she smiled, "I have near perfect memory so I remember everything I've read or seen."

"That must be useful."

"It can be," she shrugged, "I can recite Postman Pat by heart to you if you want, starting with episode 1," she cleared her throat, " 'Postman Pat, Postman Pat, Postman Pat and his black and white cat. Early in the morning, just as day is dawning. He picks up all the post bags in his van.'"

Harry laughed when Hermione's voice cracked awfully during her terrible performance.

"Well, no one said my voice could match."

"Let's go change into our robes," Harry said, still suppressing his giggles.


"We'll be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes time," a voice announced, "Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."

The train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way to the doors and out to a tiny dark platform. Hermione shivered slightly in the cold of the night, and then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

The giant man towered over them and Hermione stared, wide eyed, as the man beamed down at them. So this was Hagrid, she thought to herself, I wonder how big full-blooded giants are.'

"C'mon, follow me – any more firs' years? Mind yer step now! Firs' years follow me!"

Slipping and stumbling they followed Hagrid down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Harry thought there must be thick trees. The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"Ooooh."

"No more'n four to boat," Hagrid called over their heads, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. Harry, Hermione and Ron joined a boat followed by Neville. Harry had sat down first and Ron had, not so subtly, shoved Hermione aside to sit next to him so Hermione settled contentedly by Neville. Harry had seen this behaviour and frowned, though he didn't comment since Hermione met his eye and smiled.

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, "Right then – FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Neville, is it?" Hermione asked, "Did you find your toad?"

"Yeah," he smiled, "Thank you for your help. I asked the prefects and they managed to summon Trevor back to me."

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as they approached the cliffs, and they all bent their heads as the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy and hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel which seemed to take them under the castle, to an underground harbour.

They clambered out of the boats onto rocks and pebbles, then up the passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto the smooth damp grass in the shadow of the castle. They walked up the flight of stone steps up to the large Oak front doors.

"Everyone here?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times on the castle door.


Author's Note: This chapter is 15 pages on GoogleDocs (heh). So thank you for taking the time to read and I'm very sorry for any mistakes...haha...I haven't been able to go back to proof read.

Thanks again for reading and see you tomorrow!