Written for The Golden Snitch's Movie Madness: Mean Girls challenge, on behalf of House Mizu (Mahoutokoro).
Prompt: Cady Heron—Write about a character starting their first year at school.
Word Count (not including A/N): 1,376
Once she had settled herself in an empty compartment, Hermione Granger went over her mental checklist.
Material purchased and trunk packed? Triple check.
All first year books read and annotated? Check.
Uniform on and train compartment secured? Check and check.
Make friends on train.
…
But they would come, Hermione knew. She hadn't really had a friend before, if you didn't count Ms. Pearce, who lived down the street and would slip Hermione real chocolate biscuits during tea and tell her all about her time working at Bletchley Park during World War II.
Ms. Pearce never made fun of Hermione's fascination with books and learning.
Then again, Ms. Pearce had never been tripped by an invisible force after calling Hermione a 'buck-tooth beaver', or found herself unable to speak after commenting that Hermione's parents should take Hermione and go back to where they came from—that Britain didn't need their kind. She had tried to point out that both her parents had been raised in Brighton, but her response to their taunts fell on deaf ears.
Or, perhaps, the bullies couldn't respond since they were effectively mute.
Hermione knew now that when bullies had weird, bad things happen after teasing her, it was a result of 'accidental magic.' Because she was a witch.
A wand-carrying, pointy-hat-wearing, pewter-cauldron-brewing honest-to-God witch.
And now she was going to witch school.
For Hermione, the discovery that she was a witch was the happiest moment of her life. Everything made sense—why she was so different, why she didn't fit in with other kids, why she never felt like she knew enough. It all came back to this fantastic world that existed right under her nose, and that she was now going to be a part of.
When Professor McGonagall hand-delivered her acceptance letter on her birthday, Hermione had held the older woman hostage with all kinds of questions about the wizarding world. After two hours, the professor had begged off, saying if she answered any more questions she'd have to put Hermione in with the second years, as she'd have completely covered first year curriculum.
Over the course of the following year, Hermione did just that. She read all the books for her classes, and then dragged her parents to Diagon Alley so she could buy more based on their appendixes.
She'd read Hogwarts: A History three times.
The train lurched forward and Hermione's chest tightened ever so slightly. She was still alone in her compartment.
Perhaps it was a very large train, she justified. Maybe people are still getting settled.
She opened Hogwarts: A History to her favorite chapter and decided to wait twenty minutes before exploring.
Shortly before her mental timer went off, a tall pudgy boy opened the door to her compartment.
"Have you seen a toad?" he asked shyly, worry evident in his voice.
"No, I haven't. Is it your familiar?" asked Hermione.
The boy nodded. "Yes. I lost Trevor when I got on the train. He hopped right out of my compartment." The boy looked down. "I'm sorry to have bothered you."
Hermione closed her book and smiled. "That's not a problem. Why don't I help you look for Trevor? The search will go twice as fast with two people."
The boy brightened a bit at that. "Thanks!" He stuck out his hand. "I'm Neville Longbottom."
She shook it. "I'm Hermione. Hermione Granger."
Neville and Hermione took off in opposite directions. She made it through and entire train car with no sign of Trevor. However, she'd been called a Firstie by four upperclassmen, and Ickle-Firstie by a pair of smiling ginger-headed boys, and sneered at by a group of students in green ties.
"Leave and close the door behind you. There's a filthy smell coming from the hallway," said one particularly nasty girl, very clear that she thought Hermione was the source of said smell.
No friends, but Hermione noted that all the compartments housed older students—perhaps she'd have better luck in her year.
Exasperated, she went to the next compartment, where two young boys were gorging on candy, one with his wand in the air. They looked about her age, and she tried to reign in her frustration.
Possible friends.
"Has anyone seen a toad?" she asked the boys. "A boy named Neville's lost his."
The red headed boy holding the wand winked his nose. "No."
Hermione wanted to make a good impression on her year mates, so she decided to be friendly. She smiled at the redhead. "Oh, are you doing magic? Let's see then!"
The reread cleared his voice and looked very serious. "Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow; turn this stupid fat rat yellow!"
Nothing happened. Hermione wasn't surprised. The two boys shrugged at each other.
"Are you sure that's a real spell?" she asked. "It's not a very good one, is it? Of course, I've only tried a few simple ones myself, but they've all worked for me." She walked in the compartment and sat down across from the dark-haired boy, whose glasses were just barely held together by tape. "For example, oculus reparo."
The glasses mended, and the boy looked at them in wonder.
"That's better, isn't it!" exclaimed Hermione, thrilled she could help a fellow first year.
When he took off his glasses, she saw the scar on his forehead. "Holy cricket, you're Harry Potter! I'm Hermione Granger." She looked at the redhead boy. "And you are?"
"Ron Weasley," the boy said, his mouth full of candy.
Hermione wrinkled her nose at that. Children were taught manners in the wizarding world, right? She hadn't picked up any books on etiquette. Perhaps she'd owl order some. She didn't want to do something considered a faux pas, just because it was expected in the Muggle world.
"Pleasure." She looked at her watch. There wasn't much time left to find Trevor. "You two better change into your robes. I expect we'll be arriving soon."
She stood to leave and continue her search, but as she was walking toward the door she noticed Ron had dirt on his face. She thought she'd want someone to tell her if she had dirt on her nose; otherwise, she'd walk around all day looking foolish.
"You've got dirt on your nose, by the way. Did you know?" She pointed out the spot on her own nose. "Just there."
The boy shot her a dirty look, which she thought was pretty unfair. She'd just been trying tone helpful. She smiled faintly and checked the last few compartments on the train car before doubling back to find Neville.
"I'm sorry, I couldn't find Trevor," she said.
Neville's face sagged. "Me either."
"I'm sure he'll turn up. He's your familiar—he'll find you."
The train whistled and Hermione felt the brakes engage. "Come on, let's get our trunks. We're there!"
A short boat ride, sorting ceremony, and Welcoming Feast later, and Hermione found herself settling into the First Year Girls dormitory for Gryffindor. Her dorm mates, Lavender, Parvati, and Faye, were all gathered on Lavender's bed and giggling about the dreamy upperclassmen.
"He's the captain for the Gryffindor Quiddtich team!" exclaimed Lavender. She sighed. "He's so dreamy!"
Hermione fought to roll her eyes, and checked her class schedule for the fourth time. She checked the books and materials she had out on her desk, all ready to go so she wouldn't have to scramble in the morning. She laid out her uniform, and checked that all her ties had been appropriately charmed to Gryffindor colors.
She crawled into bed while her dorm mates continued their assessment of how cute the boys in their House were.
She considered the day, and mentally checked off all that she had accomplished. She'd made a friend in Neville, and perhaps her dorm mates wouldn't be as terrible as they seemed.
The two boys she'd met on the train had also been sorted into Gryffindor, though they hadn't spoken to her much at the Welcoming Feast. Perhaps tomorrow, in class, they'd be friendlier.
After all, everyone here was magical. They were all in the same boat, learning magic, weren't they?
It wasn't like she'd be the loner she'd been at her old school.