The girl named Hermione Granger was never the popular one at school. She studied hard and learned a lot, trying her best to prove to the Wizarding world that she deserved to be there. In fact she had outperformed every single student in the entire Hogwarts school in every subject above and beyond, for the past five years now. Every student and every subject but one. That pesky Harry Potter was better than her at Defense Against the Dark Arts. And every year she swore to herself that she would beat him, and she failed every time. Not by much of course, for not even the famous, legendary "boy who didn't die" could truly outdo her, unless he wanted to spend all his time cooped up with a textbook in the library, and everyone knew very well that that was far from what he and his cronies liked to do. Thinking about him annoyed Hermione greatly, but not thinking about him was impossible, since his fame, his ego and his friends were all over the place, all the time. They were the popular ones. They were known throughout the whole school as the Slytherin Sleek League. Well, not really, - she came up with that name all by herself and told no one but her boyfriend about it. Mostly because she had no one else to tell such things to… to tell any things to…
Yes, the sad reality was, that if it weren't for her boyfriend, Hermione Granger would have no one at all… But she rarely let that bother her. This brown haired Ravenclaw know-it-all, didn't care much for friends, for acceptance, for social attention. She kept telling herself every day that if she really wanted to she could have friends. If she really tried she would have plenty of people to hang out with. Although in a way she knew that wasn't true.
Hermione was pretty. Her slender, well-defined waist and her big bright brown eyes, being her most coveted features. Her brown hair was long and wavy, and if she actually cared enough to take care of it, it would have been very beautiful. In fact she had all the potential of being stunning - if she only had enough money to dress right, apply expensive make up and take good care of her skin.
But people (boys most of all) didn't see her that way, for her reputation was established and solidified long ago as the bona-fied book-worm.
She knew that people liked her well enough, they even looked up to her and often asked for help with schoolwork and class assignments.
Academically – she ruled Hogwarts.
In fact whenever a group project rolled around or a particularly hard exam was about to be given she tended to attract quite a big crowd around herself. Students fought for spots around her in the classroom, so that they could easily look over and copy off her paper, and they strove to offer her small favors, vying to be on the "class brain's" good side so she would let them be in her group.
But every time, like clockwork, as soon as exam time was over and all the projects were done, she was immediately abandoned and forgotten. Some of the two-faced traitors didn't even say hello to her in the halls, unless they needed something from her.
But she had Ron. Her wonderful, loyal, and good-looking boyfriend. He was a Gryffindor, and she met him at a Diagon Alley ice cream parlor three summers ago. He worked there part-time during the holidays in order to make some extra cash and she frequented the place often. She heard a lot about the boy already, thanks to his twin brothers, the "class-clown award" winners and Hogwarts Student Body Favorites in general. So she was eager to get to know him more.
Ron was a talented Quidditch player, already playing on a city team, and well on his way to national recognition. He was a more or less social young man, who had noticed something in the sweet and quiet witch right off the bat, and resolved to ask her out.
It took him a couple of months, and when he finally did pluck up enough courage, they were already well into their third year of school. Once he did, the two didn't waste any time in becoming a very strong and solid couple. They have been inseparable ever since. He didn't seem to care about her lack of a social circle, and with time even forgot all about his own friends to be with her. He hung out with them very rarely during the course of the next several years, and preferred his brothers' and his girlfriends' company to anyone else's.
Many girls would have given anything to be noticed by him, and constantly wondered out loud at what he saw in the unkempt, inexpertly dressed muggle-born geek. Their unkind remarks have always found their way back to her, naturally, but far from being upset over them, she gloated. Every single person in this world is only human after all – and if one doesn't have something that someone else really wants, then he or she doesn't have anything worth living for. And Hermione Granger had that something. She had two such things actually – perfect grades and Ronald Weasley. And she never doubted for a second that she deserved both of those things. Quite surprisingly, given all of her imperfections, Hermione Granger was not self-conscious and self-hating like every other girl her age.
Hermione and Ron were sitting at her parents' house, eating breakfast, when a letter arrived. The snow-white owl landed noiselessly in the middle of the table and they both reached forward, not knowing which one of them the note was addressed to.
Hermione smiled apologetically and jerked her hand back, allowing the redheaded boy to pick the owl up first. Her boyfriend found her actions cute, so he laughed out loud, blew her a kiss, and opened the letter.
It was from Ron's brother, Charlie. He was letting the two of them know that Fred and George were opening a store at Diagon Alley, and inviting them to the Grand Opening next week. He also included a story cut out from Daily Prophet, which featured Harry Potter and that blonde haired git / best mate of his, partying in some Muggle bar in London. They did not look sober in the picture, and Ron was sure they would be in trouble for this if it happened during the school year, considering they were both several months underage.
He chuckled quietly before passing the story to Hermione and pouring himself more orange juice. He remembered very well that fateful summer when he first met Potter.
He was about to start Hogwarts and for the first time ever went into Diagon Alley with his mother to buy school supplies. He was super thrilled and could barely contain his excitement, literally jumping up and down and constantly tugging at the sleeves of his disheveled mother. While he was doing exactly that in front a broomstick store, he noticed a black haired boy standing nearby, looking at him with slight curiosity and concern. He had, what seemed to be a giant, with him. A giant, who looked nothing like him and thus could not have been his father. The presence of such a huge man was what got Ron's attention, so he stared back at the pair, with his mouth hanging open. He always had issues with simple propriety, and his mother noticing this, turned bright red and attempted to fix the situation.
"Hello! I'm Molly Weasley, I am SO sorry for my son's behavior, you would think that he had never been around people before!"- She said nervously and let out a giggle.
When neither the giant, nor the black haired boy answered, she decided to break the ice with a joke and went on-
"He has. In case you were wondering. He's been out in public plenty of times…" She only realized how lame that sounded after it came out of her mouth. Having heard herself say this, Molly Weasley's spirits visibly sank and with an embarrassed expression on her face, she quickly added-
"That was a joke. Sorry… again." Then she turned to her youngest son and loudly whispered-"Ronald that was rude! I can't believe you embarrassed me like this."
She glanced again at the odd pair still standing in front of them and after looking the young boy over very carefully, her mouth involuntarily slipped into a shape of an O, and she froze completely. There on his forehead, underneath a thick batch of unruly black hair, was a scar. And there was only one boy in the entire wizarding world, who was known to have a scar like that.
"Harry Potter?! Are you... Are you really Harry Potter?" She finally found herself saying, also quite involuntarily.
Finally the small boy seemed to have found his voice. He smiled, turned just as red in the face as Molly, and replied-
"Yeah. I am. Harry Potter, I mean. Ahem… It's nice to meet you!" And at this he extended his hand, while looking at Ron for some reason and not Molly.
"And I'm Ron." Ron decided to chime in. He was staring harder than ever and his mouth was now hanging all the way down to his knees, if that was possible. The giant was momentarily forgotten and both of the Weasleys began to enthusiastically bombard him with questions. It turned out he was staying at an Inn at the Leaky Cauldron, and was brand new to "the whole magic thing," as he himself had put it. At hearing that, they immediately invited Harry to spend the night at their home instead, and offered to take him to the train station the next day.
The two boys, who were the exact same age, really liked each other and spend the entire night playing chess and talking, talking, talking. The whole family was ecstatic to have him there. They were a very friendly bunch: all red haired, all goofy in their own way. They were the first family that Harry Potter has encountered in the magic world and they were very eager to do everything in their power to make the transition easier for him.
In fact, they had such a good time, that Ron truly thought that the two of them would grow to become really good friends once they got to Hogwarts. But as soon as they got on the train the next day and settled comfortably into a compartment, everything went wrong.
Ron and Harry were in the middle of a conversation, when the door to the compartment slid open and Draco Malfoy came in.
Their families were never friends, as it was well known that the Malfoys looked down on anyone who wasn't wealthy. Without fail, the Malfoy boy made a disgusted face in Ron's direction and without as much as acknowledging his presence, turned directly towards Harry and spoke in his usual self-confident tone-
"So it's true. You really are on this train. My name is Draco Malfoy. I have been dying to meet you."
He threw another dirty look at Ron. As if challenging him to a game, a game that he apparently was not planning to lose. His lips melted into a pronounced smirk, his back straightened and his entire demeanor seemed to scream "watch me."
"What are you doing in here with the Weasel-bag Potter? Trust me, you don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. And I can help you there."
An astounded Ron was watching the scene unfold in front of him, as if it was playing in slow motion. He was about to lose his very first school friend. Draco's mouth was moving so slowly that Ron could see every single mili-drop of spit escape his lips and every single muscle twitch in his lower jaw. He still had time, he could still stop him!, and yet he just sat there, as if rooted to the spot. That boy intimidated the senses out of him. There was no way he was winning anything if Malfoy was his opponent.
And sure enough – he lost.
Ever since that moment, Ronald Arthur Weasley was resolved to make something of himself. To make a name and a fortune, so that he would never again have to endure hateful smirks from arrogant assholes that resented his family's poverty.
He decided that his best shot at fame was Quidditch, so from that moment on, he spent ALL of his free time learning, practicing and training hard so he could first make the school team, and then the city team, and then maybe, just maybe, he would become good enough to eventually play for England.
So in fact, he had nothing to be bitter about. He should thank them really.
Draco Malfoy and Harry Potter were solely responsible for Ronald Weasley's vast athletic talent and highly promising career.