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AN: In advance, I apologise if Harry and Hermione seem a bit open with their feelings in this chapter than they do in canon. However, I have my reasons; the way I see it, by the time they met at Hogwarts, both of them were more used to keeping their feelings concealed, Harry because the Dursleys' abuse didn't give him much chance to share his feelings, and Hermione because she was too smart for anyone else to get along with. At this point, both of them are just two small children wanting someone to talk to, and they have found that in each other

Harry Potter/Granger and the Philosopher's Stone

"So, what are your mummy and daddy like?" Hermione asked Harry later as the two of them sat outside at break time eating their snacks. The lessons had been a little difficult for Harry at first, but Hermione had quickly helped him understand some of the questions; she had remarkably detailed notes on her past lessons.

Harry sighed sadly as he looked over at Hermione, putting aside his cheese sandwich as he turned to talk to his new friend. "I… I don't really know, Hermione," he said, averting his gaze to his feet as he spoke. "They… both died in a car crash when I was one; I don't even remember them."

"What?" Hermione said, looking at Harry in horror. "You mean you can't even remember your mummy and daddy?"

"No," Harry replied, shaking his head. "I don't even know much about them; I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle after they died, and they…"

He sighed sadly and looked over at Hermione. "They never really cared about me, to be honest; my uncle always called me a freak and treated me like a slave. He… he beat me a lot, as well; that's actually why I was moved to a nearby orphanage."

Hermione just stared at him, tears gleaming in her eyes.

"Your… your uncle hit you?" she asked, staring at Harry in horror. "But… but…"

And suddenly she grabbed Harry in her arms and began to cry into his shoulder. Not sure what else to do, Harry just put his arms around her and held her steady, suddenly grateful that they'd chosen a more secluded corner of the playground to eat in; at least here there was less chance of a teacher coming over to find out what was wrong.

"Hey…" he said, patting her on the back reassuringly and hoping he was doing it right; he didn't really have much experience with physical comfort. "It's all right, Hermione; I don't have to put up with him any more, right?"

"I-I know…" Hermione mumbled, as she pulled away, still sniffing as she looked at Harry. "But… but I can't believe your uncle would do that to you… You seem so nice…"

Harry smiled at her. "Thanks," he said, placing a hand on her shoulder. "But, hey; I've got you as a friend now, right? The way I see it, life hasn't given me that bad a time."

Hermione smiled back at him gratefully, sniffing once or twice more to clear her nose. "Th-thanks, Harry," she said, smiling back at him.

"You're welcome," Harry replied. "So, what do your parents do?"

"Oh, my mummy and daddy are dentists," said Hermione, smiling to show him a missing tooth in her mouth.

"Really?" Harry asked, looking at her inquiringly. "So… you never get to have chocolate then?"

"No, I get to have chocolate now and again; just not that often," Hermione replied, shrugging dismissively. "It doesn't bother me; chocolate's nice, but I prefer fruit."

Harry smiled back at her. "Yeah, I enjoy apples, but I've always loved chocolate," he said to her, grinning as the conversation turned to inane details about food, all thoughts of the Dursleys forgotten.

Over the next week or so, Harry and Hermione spent most of their free time together, Hermione helping Harry out in his classes until he'd caught up with the week or so he'd missed at the beginning of the term during their lessons, and the two of them just generally relaxing and enjoying themselves during break time.

Harry had never had the chance to just be a child before- the Dursleys had generally prevented him from doing anything or going anywhere that he might actually like- and Hermione had always just stayed in the classroom during break and read a new book that she'd found lying around. Now that the two of them had someone to actually play with, they were having the time of their lives. The time went by so rapidly that, almost before they knew it, it was Friday, with only a couple of periods more before the end of the day, and they were sitting out in the playground on the upper level of the climbing frame, discussing their plans for the weekend.

"I'll probably just try and get through that maths homework we were given," Harry said, swinging his legs slightly as he looked over at Hermione. "I wouldn't mind going out, but the orphanage has this annoying rule about keeping the younger children in unless they're in groups with an adult."

"I'm really not sure what mummy and daddy have arranged," Hermione said, staring up at the sky as she spoke. "It's a busy weekend for them, from what I've heard; I think they're planning on renting a film for us to watch tomorrow night."

Harry smiled over at her. "Enjoy it," he said, reaching over and squeezing her hand slightly. "You really are lucky, you know, 'Mione."

Hermione shook her head as she looked back at Harry, a faint tear in the corner of her left eye.

"No, Harry," she said, looking at her new friend sadly. "I'm not lucky; you were just terribly, terribly unlucky… And you need to remember that!"

Harry swallowed slightly at her words.

"Yeah, maybe…" he said, turning away to look at some of the other children.

"Harry," Hermione said forcefully, making the young boy turn back to look at her. "I don't know what happened to make your uncle hate you so much, but you weren't to blame for it. You are the best friend I have ever had, and if anyone hated you, it was only because they were too stupid to understand what a nice person you are. Do you understand me?"

Harry could only nod, impressed slightly by Hermione's statement; evidently those books she read were a good influence on her.

"Thanks," he said, after a moment's pause to think about what she'd told him. He was about to say something else, but then the bell rang for classes to start again. The two of them jumped down from the climbing frame and ran back towards their classroom, the desire to avoid getting into trouble driving what Harry had been about to say next out of his mind.

The next morning, staring out of his window in his room at the orphanage, Harry sighed in boredom as he flicked through his maths book. He knew his homework was important, and he genuinely wanted to do well, but he just felt so alone at the orphanage now. He'd always managed to get along with the other children, but he knew that he would never fit in; they all constantly hoped that they would be adopted, but Harry was content to remain where he was.

If nothing else, at least here he could be sure he wouldn't end up with another abusive foster parent…

"Harry?" a very familiar voice said from his door.

"What… Hermione?" Harry said in surprise, putting his maths book to one side and looking in the direction of the voice. As he'd thought, it was Hermione standing in the door, her hand being held by a tall brown-haired woman who could only be Hermione's mother. "What are you doing here?"

"Mummy had the day off, so I convinced her to take me down to see if you could come over and play," Hermione explained, smiling brightly over at her friend.

"Really?" Harry said, jumping off the bed and smiling up at Mrs Granger. "What Mr McNish say?" He was already fairly certain as to what the answer would be, of course; Mr McNish, the owner of the orphanage, may be over-obsessive about rules at times, but he was always willing to keep the children happy.

"He said that, so long as I sign you out, it's fine," Mrs Granger replied, smiling down at the young boy her daughter had been unable to stop talking about for the past week. "Shall we go?"

"Yes please," Harry said, taking her offered hand as the three of them began to walk towards the orphanage entrance.

Outside the orphanage, concealed by a remarkably elaborate spell, a tall, elderly man with a long white beard, dressed in a long purple robe, stood outside the orphanage, and watched as Harry and Hermione walked out of the door ahead of Mrs Granger, talking nineteen to the dozen and grinning like they'd just heard the best joke in the world.

Watching the small boy as he talked to his friend, with no sign of the trauma he must have endured prior to his near-death experience on his sixth birthday, Albus Dumbledore sighed.

"He's happy…" he said thoughtfully to himself, as Mrs Granger walked out of the door after signing Harry out and began to walk down towards her car. He knew himself that he had not moved Harry to the Dursleys with the idea that they would be good foster parents- Lily had told him enough about her sister to gather that much- but he had hoped that they would at least treat Harry well. After all, he was barely even a year old, and had done nothing to them; why should they not care for him? He had not taken their sheer vindictiveness into account, and because of that, Harry had nearly died.

There and then, Dumbledore made his mind up.

No action would be taken regarding Harry Potter's living accommodations at present. He would see about setting up alternate wards around the orphanage for the moment- at least enough to ensure that he was alerted to anyone trying to capture Harry- and, if anything should change in the future, he would take the necessary steps.

But right now, all Dumbledore wanted was to ensure that the Boy Who Lived enjoyed a peaceful, happy life, ignorant of his fame until he was emotionally capable of accepting his identity without it going to his head.

He merely hoped that Harry was adopted by a caring couple soon enough; wards were tricky things to erect over public residences…