Hello, my lovely readers. And as for the reviewers, thank you all. Gracias. Merci. A lot. Today we've got a bit of back-story. Hope you enjoy…

Chapter Four: Home

Of course, Arthur and Molly Weasley had been slightly put out when Ron had been put in Hufflepuff. It wasn't exactly a coveted place. And it sure didn't help having five other brothers who'd all been Gryffindors and who'd all left some kind of mark or another in the castle. Of course, with Fred and George, those marks were literally in the castle. One only had to look as far as where the statue of Echarwise the Elderly used to be.

The breaking point had been when Ginny—shy meek little Ginny—became one of the high and mighty lionhearted. That was when Ron realized that out of all seven of them, he was inferior.

Fred and George, after the Sorting, had been surprisingly comforting. "Don't worry, Ron, you wouldn't believe the amount of nutters you get in Gryffindor," George had assured him.

"We're the only reasons the whole House hasn't been shut down, you know," Fred had said sagely.

Hufflepuff house hadn't turned out that bad, actually. Ron had made friends with the little black-haired girl, Susan Bones, right away. With the exception of that idiot Ernie Macmillan, they weren't a bad lot. A bit dim, though.

Like me, thought Ron.

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It would usually take a large earthquake to rip Hermione Granger's eyes off a book, but when her mother walked in one June day and told her she'd gotten a letter inviting her to a school of witchcraft and wizardry, she hadn't just looked up from the book. It'd fallen out of her hands.

Once the girls in her compartment had told her, with traces of annoyance in their voices, about the four houses of Hogwarts, she knew almost for certain that she'd be put into Ravenclaw. In the future, she'd think a little wistfully on what it'd be like to have been a Gryffindor, brave and golden.

But there'd been no one to share these secret dreams with. The only ones who'd appreciated having her around were her head of house, Professor Flitwick (who'd have been offended at her desire to change houses) and Professor McGonagall (whom she didn't think liked hearing about the aspirations of teenagers). Certainly, she couldn't tell her parents, who'd simply ask what a Giffy Door was and how it worked.

So she wrote it all in a diary for a while. That had worked out fine until Padma Patil had stolen it and read it to their entire house in third year. Michael Corner had been most amused to hear what she'd written about his "baby blue eyes". The entire Common Room had shaken with laughter that night.

Hermione had been very careful about what she told anyone, even a book, after that.

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Really short, I know. Sorry. But, ahem, that last sentence just may be important. Hypothetically. Maybe. And I did enjoy writing in some Fred and George…not to mention Ernie-bashing.

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