for liza :)

for geek pride - my little pony - genre: friendship

for camp hogwarts - #41 clean down counters (blessed)

mini golf hole 1 - only gryffindors

reserve league - s3, r2, chaser 1, write about a gryffindor/gryffindor friendship

1248 words by gdocs

Hermione's twelve years old, and she lives in a world of magic, and she goes to a school for wizards, and she's learning all sorts of new things about subjects she never even knew existed and she's miserable.

She has this fantasy life around her, and she's absolutely miserable.

It's not hard to tell, right away, that not very many people like her. They think she's annoying, when she talks in her classes and answers all of the questions, and Hermione can feel herself being annoying, but she can't stop it. It just… comes out.

As a result, she doesn't spend much time in the common room, or in her dormitory, or anywhere else the other first years spend time.

Instead, she's in the library.

There's a spot, in a very corner of the library. She likes the view it gives her of everyone else, but it also secludes her away from everyone. It's not like she has anyone she'd like to sit with, so it doesn't really matter anyway.

To her surprise, during what is her second week of spending her free time in the library, someone sits down at her table. The someone is a guy, maybe three years older than her, with lanky limbs and curly red hair and wire rimmed glasses perched on his nose. Hermione knows who he is, of course, because she recognizes him down to the prefect badge stuck on his chest.

Hermione feels weirdly, oddly nervous. Why is a prefect sitting next to her? She glances around the library — maybe it's the only seat available — but there are plenty of empty seats throughout the room.

"I'm Percy Weasley," he says after a moment of Hermione trying not to gape at him. He sticks a long arm out her, and it takes Hermione a second before realizing that he's asking for a handshake.

Tentatively, she takes his hand and shakes, saying, "I'm Hermione Granger."

"I can't help but notice," Percy says, dropping her hand. "That you spend a lot of time in the library, Hermione."

A flutter goes through her stomach as Percy says her name. It also makes her flush, that he noticed her.

No one ever really did, at Hogwarts.

She feels sort of blessed, in a weird way, that a prefect would single her out. It's exhilarating.

"Well," Hermione says, giving half of a shrug before realizing that might be rude. "It's not like I have any friends to hang out with instead."

Percy frowns, and he quite looks like he wants to make a remark about that. He settles on an expression of impress.

Instead, he says, "Well, with hard work like that, you're sure to become a prefect like me."

Hermione beams.

…

Hermione's thirteen years old, and she's a Muggleborn, and she's being targeted, and she's scared.

She'd never admit it, not to Ron or Harry, because she's supposed to be the one with the answers. She's supposed to know what's going on, but the truth is, Harry's hearing voices in the wall, and Muggleborns are being petrified, and Draco Malfoy is not the heir of Slytherin and…

And Hermione doesn't know what to do.

She's in the library, of course, because if there's anywhere, that has an answer, it's the library. She hasn't had a real need to use her secluded corner since she gained real friends, but she goes there now. Some solid studying time is what she really needs.

When Percy Weasley sits next to her, it takes her a while to notice — she's engrossed in her book about magic creatures, and she feels close to… to something.

"You're a Muggleborn, right?" Percy asks, and she flinches at the question before looking up and seeing that it's only Percy.

"Yes," she says, tapping her foot nervously on the ground. She looks around the room, and a few yards away is standing a curly-haired girl that Hermione recognizes as the Ravenclaw prefect.

And she's pretty sure, just from noticing how they act together, that Percy and her are dating.

For some reason that sours her mood even more than it already was, and she looks down at the book, to look at a page about basilisks.

Of the many fearsome beasts, she reads from the book. Percy makes a little noise in his throat. She doesn't want to look up and see what he's reacting to, so she doesn't. She needs to figure this out, before something worse happens.

"Stay safe, alright?" he says, and Hermione's eyes pause on the word rooster.

She appreciates his concern, she realizes as a warm feeling spreads through her. She really does. With a brief glance at the Ravenclaw girl, Hermione looks straight at Percy. A memory surfaces to the front of her brain, about Percy saying that she could become a prefect like him. For some reason, a trickle of resentment floods her.

Making eye contact with Percy, she rips the page straight out of the book. Percy winces, and glances back at the Ravenclaw girl with a cringe, and it makes Hermione feel slightly better.

"I think I figured it out," she says, sticking her chin out.

…

Hermione's fourteen years old, and once again, she has no friends and she's miserable.

She wonders if, at some point in the future, the two of them will realize that she's only trying to help. She wonders if they'll die from stubbornness about not accepting her help.

The lack of friends, though, makes her feel twelves years old again, struggling at Hogwarts with no one else to really talk to.

She's back in the library.

The table that she chose in her first year is still in the corner, and there's still no one else sitting there. Feeling sad, and hurt, and so very alone, she sits in her old chosen seat. She doesn't have any books with her, just her own thoughts.

Before long, someone drops down across from her, and the red hair makes her think of Ron and worsens her already bad mood. Still, she enjoys seeing Percy.

"Are you okay?" he asks, hesitantly. Hermione figures that her bad mood must be radiating off of her, and she's probably giving off strong "don't talk to me" vibes. She appreciates Percy talking to her, anyway.

She shrugs in response.

Percy looks like he wants to say more, to ask another question, but instead he just says, "You can talk to me, if you want to."

Hermione wonders why he's offering his friendship to her. She's friends with his brother, but they've only had a handful of interactions. When she doesn't say anything, Percy gives her a little jerky nod and gets up and walks away.

Hermione appreciates his offer. It makes her feel not so alone.

Maybe she'll take him up on it.

…

Hermione's nineteen years old, and she's fought a war, and she goes to the Burrow to see everyone once again.

And there, in the sitting room (which isn't quite a library, but it'll do), is Percy Weasley. He looks out of place, uncomfortable with his family around them. All of the Weasleys had said they forgave him, of course, but it was one thing to have it said, and one thing to have it felt.

Hermione recognizes his look of discomfort, as if he feels out of place in his own body. She's felt that too.

This time, Hermione's the one to go over and sit with him.