Harry and Ron

Hermione let the sliding door of her compartment close by itself as she paced along the corridor in search for the frog- or, rather, the two boys. Each window she peered through had the contents of three or four nervous-looking first-years, either showing each other passed-down spells that failed miserably or telling each other rumours of what went on at Hogwarts. Hermione stopped to witness both such actions and shook her head, bemused at the spells and the farfetched things they said. She had read about plenty of goings-on at the school, but she sincerely doubted that a pupil had once been turned into a pumpkin, and then squeezed into pumpkin juice by an unsuspecting house-elf.

It was thrilling for the young witch all the same to be around such magical people, for her muggle life had always filled her with a sense of incompleteness. Without a doubt she had lived among highly intelligent muggles with very inspired views- she had been attending high IQ societies since the age she could add up- but such cleverness could not fill the void that magic could fill. So now, as she passed such a people as her, she felt a sense of belonging creep over her, and almost forgot what she was looking for.

But one look through the next compartment window brought it back; for, there sat the chatty red-haired boy and his overwhelmed-looking friend. A sort of pull had brought her to them, almost like a sense of destiny, although Hermione was reluctant to believe in such a thing. She merely viewed the boys as being a source of interest for her in this new world, as a lot of things would be, and for now they were the things who most caught her attention.

Their compartment looked like a sweet shop, with wrappers and boxes of every sort of curious confectionary strewn over the seats and floor. The dark-haired boy seemed to get progressively confused with every box he opened, as if he knew nothing of the disgusting every-flavour beans or the semi-alive chocolate frogs that gave him a shock. The red-haired boy seemed very comfortable amongst his mountain of food, however, and was holding a dirty looking rat to his wand, apparently trying to perform a spell.

Intrigue getting the better of her, Hermione promptly opened the compartment door to the amazement of the boys. Ah, quick Hermione, make an excuse! Hermione thought as the young wizards stared at her expectantly.

"A boy called Neville has lost his frog, you haven't seen it by chance?" The red-haired boy grunted a negative, and turned back to face his friend as if he wanted to make no further conversation with the intruder.

"Oh, you're doing magic? Well, let's see then." Hermione didn't mean to sound so snooty, but a mixture of annoyance at the boy and nerves created the tone. Partly that and she didn't really expect much from this boy as none of the first-years on the way had excelled much with their spells.

"Ok, fine. Just don't interrupt me, coz this is a particularly complicated spell that my brother taught me. If it goes wrong then..."

"Just get on with it, I do have to look for this frog, you know." Again, Hermione resented that her voice had come out so sharply, but her nerves had made her order more stern than encouraging.

"Dragon-skin green, Pumpkin juice orange, turn this stupid fat rat... Oh, I've forgotten the words..."

"Obviously, seeing as nothing rhymes with orange. What were you trying to do to this rat anyway?"

"It was supposed to turn yellow, but I guess I messed up the colours again... Anyway, why are you still here, don't you have a frog to catch or something?" The red-haired wizard was clearly annoyed at the witch, but she wasn't going to leave without knowing who they were; if not the acquaintance of him, she would try to get that of the other wizard.

"Hermione Granger, by the way; and what is your two names?" Ignoring the wizard's question, Hermione went straight to interrogating them.

"Don't see why I should give it to you, you'll only criticise how common it sounds or something..."

"I'm Harry, Harry Potter; and this is my friend Ron Weasley," the dark-haired boy interjected quickly. He seemed more enthusiastic to talk to the girl, and altogether more friendly than his rude companion.

"You're the Harry Potter?"

"So I've been told. But just call me Harry; people seem to act strangely when they start referring to my last name."

"Wow, and so they should. You do realise you're the boy that lived when the darkest wizard of all time..."

"Yeah, again I've been told. Still can't say I understand it all, though; it was just sort of sprung on me all this stuff about me being a wizard. Ron here is helping explain it to me, though. You can join us if you want; he was telling me all about Quidditch a minute ago..."

"No she cannot! We don't need some stuck up witch ordering us about. Best if it's just us boys, she'll only get in the way."

"Fine. I see your friend Ronald here has the manners of a goblin with a toothache, but I do hope to see you around Harry. Nice to meet you."

Hermione left the compartment with the swish of her bushy hair, and started back up the corridor just as an announcement that the Hogwarts Express would shortly be arriving at its destination, sounded. Looking through a window illustrated this, as Hermione gasped at the towering castle that stared back at her in all its magical majesty.

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