A/N: If I haven't already made this clear, this story is weird and kind of AU; Harry's parents are still alive, Hermione's actually a Malfoy, yeah yeah yeah. Because of this, I had to kind of rewrite this scene so it made sense in the story.
Ron Weasley, age eleven, pressed his face against the window of the train.
"Excited?" he inquired to his best friend, Harry Potter. The two boys had grown up together and were practically inseparable. Currently, they occupied their own compartment on the train, the seats of which were covered with piles of various wizarding candies.
"Of course," Harry replied lazily, perusing Ron's copy of Quidditch Through The Ages with one hand and eating a Chocolate Frog with the other.
"Have you looked through your school books yet?" Ron said, his voice muffled somewhat by the glass of the window.
"No, haven't really bothered, they'll teach us soon enough once we get there," Harry said, still immersed in his book.
"Fred gave me a spell the other day, said that Hogwarts didn't teach it," Ron said eagerly, obviously itching to try it out. Harry sat up straighter. Of course, Fred and George were third-years and knew a ton more magic than the two of them, so of course they knew these advanced spells.
"Go on, then, give it a try."
"It's supposed to turn Scabbers yellow," Ron grinned, pulling his fat pet rat and his old wand out of his pocket. Harry grinned.
"Sunshine, daisies, butter mellow, turn this stupid fat rat yellow!" A spark flew out of Ron's wand, and the little rat squeaked and bolted out of the compartment.
"Well, that didn't work," Harry said, laughing. "Should we go find him?"
"No," Ron smirked. "He'll come back. Figures the spell didn't work, though. Why did I even let Fred convince me it would…" He trailed off, grimacing.
Not a minute later, there was a girly shriek from the compartment across the hall.
"Rat! There's a rat! Get it off me!" A few more high-pitched squeals were heard before a snobby-sounding female voice quieted them.
"Shut up, the lot of you. It's a stupid rat. Let me handle it."
Ron and Harry had both dissolved into tears from laughing so hard. "I should probably go retrieve Scabbers," Ron grinned as soon as he could breathe again. He stood up and left the compartment, leaving Harry to snicker.
"'Scuse me," Ron called down the hallway to a girl who was holding Scabbers carefully by the tail. "But that's my rat."
"Oh, sorry," said the girl. She turned on her heel and walked toward Ron, offering up the pet rat.
Upon glimpsing her face, Ron started slightly. He knew the girl! He didn't know how, but he definitely had seen her before somewhere.
"Thanks," he said automatically as she dropped Scabbers into his outstretched hand.
"No problem," she said, smiling to reveal large front teeth. "I'm Hermione, by the way. Hermione Granger."
"Ron. Ron Weasley. I'd shake your hand, but I'm holding a rat," Ron said matter-of-factly. Hermione giggled a little. Why? Why do girls giggle? I wasn't even trying to be funny. Ron wondered.
"I'll… see you around school, then," Hermione said, turning back into her compartment. Ron offered up a quick "Goodbye!" before pocketing Scabbers and returning to Harry.
"Do you know anyone surnamed Granger?" Ron asked as soon as he stepped in, trying to sound casually curious.
"Nope," Harry replied, more interested in tearing open a bag of Bertie Botts' Every Flavor Beans.
Ron was silent. Why did he get the feeling that he had met Hermione Granger before?