Because you asked, another chapter up much more quickly than the last one! Enjoy!

--The Author

A new letter arrived in the mail late in the summer. It was made of parchment, same as the original, with the same address, (Second Bedroom Upstairs, Lincolnton, Wessex), but the writing was different. Her parents watched as she opened it. They all bent down over the paper, but only Hermione could read it. Her parents were looking at it upside-down, after all.

"Oh!" she said.

Her parents jumped.

"Since I was born into a Muggle family, I get a guide to the Wizarding world!"

"Who?" Mom asked.

"Another student, just starting out at Hogwarts, too!" Hermione said. "It says that they hope that we will be great friends. He comes from an old Wizarding family."

"What's his name?" Dad asked.

Hermione read: "Neville Longbottom."

Her parents frowned.

"That's a good name," Mom said.

"Yes," Dad said. "Very, ah, fitting."

/end

A few letters were sent back and forth ("Haven't they heard of a telephone?" Mom sighed), and it was all arranged: Hermione was going to meet her first schoolmate! They were all going to have lunch at a restaurant in a town right in between Lincolnton and their town!

What was Hermione going to wear? She searched through her whole room for something that looked witchy. There was the black dress she had worn to Great-Uncle Jack's funeral. Too formal. The black slacks and a black t-shirt? Ugh. Black was not her color.

She went downstairs to ask her mother.

"Mom, what's my color?"

Mom didn't even look up from her cup of coffee. "Red or green."

Color! Hermione dashed upstairs. She opened up Hogwarts: A History. Colors were important at Hogwarts.

After the four separate founders selected each their own students, they chose to mark and honor the students by giving them each robes of their favorite colour. Gryffindor chose for his students scarlet robes; Hufflepuff, yellow; Ravenclaw, blue; and Slytherin, green.

"Red or green." She flipped through to the back, to the brief biographies of the four founders. She would go with the color of whoever sounded the neatest. Red was the color of Gryffindor. Godric Gryffindor wanted students who were brave. Hermione didn't feel too brave. She was all shaken up over just meeting another wizard! Perhaps she ought to go with Slytherin's green?

Slytherin believed students should only be selected from "pure" students, whose whole family was Magick, as far back as anyone could tell. No half-bloods, and no muggle-borns. That sounded like racism! And it certainly excluded her!

She came downstairs to show her mother. She wore her red t-shirt and blue jeans. It was a nice t-shirt, and she had ironed it. She picked up her red hat from the front hallway, put it on, and paraded before the breakfast table.

"Very nice," her mother said. "Just one thing." She went to the hall closet, and picked up Hermione's blue hat. She exchanged the two hats, so she was wearing a blue hat and a red shirt. "I lied. Green isn't your color at all." Then she kissed her on the cheek. "You look lovely, darling."

"My hat was red."

"Matching accessories are out. Eat your breakfast."

Hermione sighed and ate her breakfast. Lunch was going to be so much more exciting!

The restaurant was a local diner, just off the main road. The roof was low and the windows were small. The inside had lights all around the place, trying to look brightly lit. The Grangers looked around the place. The people were dressed in flannels and paisley. It looked completely normal. There were Wizards in here? They shrugged to each other.

Hermione noticed a little round boy sitting on a barstool. He spun around in his chair, kicking his feet. The old woman sitting next to him grabbed the stool. It stopped. The boy laughed and waved in his seat, dizzy.

"Look at this hat," Mom said. She pointed at the hat rack near the door. It was large, and green, and had several of the biggest feathers ever seen poking out of it. Mom laughed. Dad smiled and shook his head. Hermione grinned.

The boy at the barstool hopped down. He stopped, waited for his orientation to return, then hopped over to Hermione. "Are you Hermione Granger?"

"Yes," said Hermione. "Are you…are you Neville Longbottom?"

He nodded.

This boy Neville Longbottom was dressed in a pressed blue shirt and blue jeans. He wore black shoes. His hair had been moussed into place. He looked so incredibly normal, and in fact, kind of a dork. He was a wizard?

Well, looks were deceiving. "How'd you know?" Did he use magic?

He shrugged. "You're the first girl my age to come through here. Oh! I want to show you something!" Hermione watched as he eagerly stuck his hand into his pocket. He frowned, and withdrew his hand, revealing…nothing.

Maybe this was a trick. Hermione waited. But Neville's frown grew more serious. "Trevor! Gran!" he cried to the old woman at the bar. "Gran! I've lost my toad!"

Gran Longbottom and the hostess both looked at him in horror. "Outside!" Gran Longbottom hissed.

"Come on, Hermione," Neville muttered.

She followed him outside. They went around to the back. "I think there's a creek here." They went quietly, their feet crunching on the gravel. Neville led her past the garbage cans and to a small patch of grass, where, indeed, a small brook flowed. He looked up and down the spitting water. Hermione waited. A bird sang. Neville sighed.

"You have a toad?" Hermione ventured.

"Yeah," he said. "My uncle gave it to me."

"Why?"

"I got into Hogwarts."

"That's neat," Hermione said. "My parents just bought clothes and books for me." Although it would be nice to own a cat, a thin, black cat with bright green eyes.

"I almost didn't get in."

Hermione was surprised. "Why not?"

"They thought I was a Squib."

"That's a Muggle born in a Magick family? How can they tell?"

He nodded. "My uncle was always trying to get magic out of me. When I was eight he stuck me out the third-story window by my ankles."

Hermione gasped. "He let you back in, right?"

"He dropped me."

Hermione stared.

"I bounced."

Hermione smiled.

"So they let me into Hogwarts." Neville shrugged. "It's a good school. There's others, but everyone says Hogwarts is the best."

"There's more than one?"

Neville nodded. "Yeah, there's one in Ireland, but it's not as good, I heard. And in Bulgaria and France, and in the States, and all over. My Gran told me." He turned and started walking back to the restaurant. "Hermione?"

"Yes?"

"When we get to Hogwarts, will you be my friend?"

She looked at him. He was just as nervous about Hogwarts as she was! She smiled. "Sure!" He smiled back.

"Neville! Hermione!"

"That's Gran," Neville said. He yelled, "Yes, Gran?"

"We found your toad!"

Neville took off running. Hermione was just behind him. "Trevor! Where was he?"

"In the kitchen."

"We'll have to eat lunch somewhere else," Mom said meaningfully.

Neville held the toad out to Hermione. It was yellowy-brown and its eyes bulged. "Hermione, meet Trevor. Trevor, this is Hermione."

Neville grinned. Trevor gurped. Hermione made herself smile.