A/N: I hope you enjoyed the introductory chapters - on to their first meeting! :)

Adenei was a huge help in getting this chapter just right - thanks a million!

As always, I appreciate all of the feedback so far - make sure you let me know you like this story by favoriting/following and/or leaving a review!


Chapter 3: "This is not elementary school, Mr. Weasley."

"It won't be that bad," Harry said, barely shifting his focus from a game of Madden on the television screen.

Ron tossed aside stacks of paper, searching for his biology notes. "Dude, yes it will. Tutoring? I've never needed tutoring. Only idiots need tutors, and I'm not an idiot. I just got blindsided by that first exam."

"Look man, you've already emailed this person and told her you were coming. What's the worst that could happen?"

"It'll be the biggest fucking waste of my time, that's what! Besides, what kind of girl's name is Herm-ee-own? She's, like, practically guaranteed to be a huge nerd."

Harry paused the game and turned back to his friend. "So what? You could use some help, and she's willing to help. Worry more about yourself and less about her. Getting tutoring isn't a badge of shame or anything. It's a smart idea. You want to stay on the Ultimate team, don't you?"

Ron sighed, slamming his fists against the side of his head. "Ugh, yeah, I know. Trust me, if it wasn't for that, I would've said no to this idea in a millisecond. Fuck, dude, where are my notes?"

"Is that what you're looking for? They're on the side table under your Chipotle trash from last night. You know, the ones I've asked you to throw away at least twice."

"Calm down, man, I'll get to it," Ron answered, rummaging through wrappers covered in dried salsa. "Aha, perfect. Good looking out, buddy."

"Sure." Harry rolled his eyes and refocused on his game.

"Did I tell you she wants to meet every Wednesday night for the entire semester? Between Ultimate on Mondays and Thursdays and now this on Wednesdays, I'm running out of time for anything else."

"Like what?"

"I don't know," Ron said, jamming the notes and his textbook into his bag. "Like having a social life. Enjoying college. It's supposed to be the best four years of our lives, right? How enjoyable can it be if I'm studying the entire time just to get by?"

"You're a very social person, I really don't think one hour on a weeknight is going to make that big of a difference."

"Maybe not, but who knows? The point is, it's time we never get back, Harry. Never."

"You wanna talk about time you'll never get back? Let's talk about the hour and a half you spent this morning trying to toss that playing card into your hat," Harry said, shaking his head.

"Hey, that was useful. I'm an expert at that now."

"Congratulations, Ron. You might as well just quit college now. After all, you'll never need to work again now that you've mastered card throwing."

Ron barely heard Harry's quip, plowing on with his complaints instead. "That's the other thing, though. How am I supposed to keep up in my other classes?"

The controller clattered to the ground as Harry turned and stared at his roommate with a look of disbelief. "Do you honestly mean to tell me that if you weren't going to tutoring tonight, you'd be studying for all of your other classes instead? You're really telling me that?"

"I mean, I might've," Ron lied. He knew full well he would be sitting next to Harry playing Madden with him if he didn't have to leave in five minutes, but he didn't need to admit that. "We could look through physics stuff."

"You don't need to look through physics stuff, only I need to look through physics stuff. Which I'm planning on doing after this game is over."

"Well, then I could do my Spanish assignment."

"I've already taken the Spanish class you're taking, and we both know full well that it will take five minutes. You could probably do it on the way to the library."

"Oh yeah, the library!" Ron continued, his volume rising again. "Who meets at the undergraduate library? Seriously? The place is nasty, and the temperature is always weird. I've never studied well at the library before."

"Well, then suggest somewhere else next time. I'm sure she can be flexible."

"Whatever, it doesn't even matter. Library, coffee shop, fifty-yard line of the football stadium…it's going to suck no matter where we are."

"That's the spirit," Harry shot back, throwing his friend a sarcastic smile. "Ron, can I be honest? It seems like you're looking for reasons for this to fail. Just…give it a try, okay? Stop complaining and just go over there. It's really not the end of the world."

Of course Ron knew he was being a bit petulant about the whole thing, but it all seemed so unjust. Everyone else was allowed to carry on with their lives and be a normal student. Why was he the one who needed remedial attention just to barely scrape by?

Whatever, fighting with Harry about it didn't change a damn thing. Might as well just get it over with.

"Fine, I know, you're right. Ugh, I just can't imagine this being any fun."

"I don't think tutoring is supposed to be fun. It's supposed to be work. Helpful work."

"Guess you're right. I'd better get going. Might as well be on time so we can finish on time and I can get back here as soon as possible and finally fucking relax."

"Just try to focus on why you're there, man. Think of the team. Think of how much it would suck if you weren't allowed to play. You still might not enjoy biology, but at least you'll see some value."

"I know, it would suck. Alright man, I'll see you later."

On the way out the door, Ron grabbed his jacket and threw it on. His backpack hung off of one shoulder, and he tried to improve his mood as he strolled down the sidewalk.

It's all for the team, it's all for the team, it's all for the team.

The mantra repeated itself over and over again throughout the ten-minute walk to the undergraduate library. He knew he should care more about his grades from a personal perspective as well, but staying on the Ultimate team felt like the most motivating way to convince himself to keep going, and he certainly needed convincing.

As soon as he pulled the door open to the main library on campus, he was reminded of why he'd avoided the place for the last year and a half. The dim lighting, the low ceilings, the smell of stale coffee, and the hordes of people milling around the entrance area instilled a sense of apprehension deep within him. Not only would this be a waste of time, it would also be totally unproductive. How could anybody concentrate in these conditions?

"Ron Weasley?" a voice called from behind him.

When he turned around, he was standing directly in front of a petite woman in a navy peacoat, red turtleneck, and blue jeans. Her wavy hair was pulled into a disorganized bun on the top of her head, and her chocolate brown eyes seemed to be sizing him up.

Great.

The pink in her cheeks from being out in the cold made her seem a bit more friendly, but her lips were drawn into a thin, severe line. If he was being honest with himself, she was kind of cute, although far from his normal type.

"Umm, yeah," Ron said, offering a forced grin. "Are you…sorry, I'm going to pronounce it wrong…."

"It's Hermione. Her-my-own-knee. Hermione."

"Got it. Well, I'll try, at least. So…where to?"

"I've reserved a private study room on the second floor. I hope that's okay with you."

Forward planning. Why am I not surprised? At least we get out of this sea of humanity.

"Yeah, good thinking. It's way too noisy down here."

"I agree."

She barely smiled or showed any emotion. As she turned on her heel without another word, he followed her up the staircase. Nothing about her demeanor made him feel any better about the situation, despite his initial thoughts about her appearance; if anything, he dreaded the next hour even more after meeting her.

They walked in silence to the back corner of the library to study room 2-713. It was a small room, only big enough to fit one table and four chairs. The overhead fluorescent lighting hummed and the dry-erase board on the wall was empty aside from a crude joke that Hermione erased immediately. After taking care of the vulgarity, she stepped around to the far side of the table and took off her jacket, hanging it neatly over the back of an extra chair. As Ron removed his own coat and threw it into the corner of the room, he snuck a peek at her and found himself impressed by her trim figure.

Damn, at least I'll have a little eye candy.

"I take it you have your notes and your textbook with you?" Hermione asked as she pulled out her laptop.

"Yeah, right here."

"Perfect. Let's start by reviewing the information we've been covering in class recently on biologically active macromolecules."

"Sounds good, Teach."

Hermione looked up at him and narrowed her eyes, an obvious reprimand for his carefree attitude.

"Sorry," he corrected himself. "Chapter three, right?"

"That's correct. Now, for the most part, we've talked about carbohydrates, although we've also started our discussion of lipids. I assume these are familiar concepts to you?"

Is she already assuming I'm an idiot who doesn't pay attention at all? And why straight to business?

"So we're just jumping right in like that?" Ron asked, leaning back in his chair. He was the type of person who needed to warm up a bit before studying, and he couldn't understand her desire to start working immediately.

"As opposed to…"

He gave her a crooked grin and swept the hair off of his forehead. "I don't know, no icebreakers? No 'getting to know you' period? We're going to be working together for the whole semester, aren't you at least a little curious about who I am? What makes me tick?"

"This is not elementary school, Mr. Weasley," she replied, frowning and crossing her arms over her chest. "The only relevant information here is that you are a student in Professor Sprout's Introduction to Biology class and that she has asked me to help you study since you seem to be having difficulty with the material."

"Wow. That's so…clinical."

"Fine, Mr. Weasley, what–"

"Can you please call me Ron?" he interjected. "I'm a sophomore in college, not your father's business associate."

She seemed to soften a bit, the deep creases in her brow fading as her eyebrows lifted. "Oh. Alright, then. Ron it is."

"And you are…?" Ron continued with a lopsided smile.

"You already know my name!"

"Ugh, never mind. Forget it. I was just trying to lighten it up. Make things a little more friendly. But whatever."

One of Ron's strengths was his people skills. He prided himself on being easygoing and fun to talk to. If he had to be stuck in this room with his tutor every Wednesday night for the next several months, they could at least know something about each other and be generally courteous. But apparently that was a bridge too far for her. She seemed to be even less interested in being there than he was.

Which is why the next words out of her mouth were more surprising than anything else.

"Okay, fine. But then we're getting right back to studying. It's why we're here, after all," she said, flipping her laptop shut and glaring at him. "I'm a junior and a biology major. I grew up an hour from here, and I'm planning to go to medical school when I graduate."

"Medical school, huh? That's pretty impressive."

"Well, I hope so. It's a very competitive process, so you never know."

"I don't know, I think you'll be fine. You seem the type."

Hermione's eyebrows knitted themselves together. "What do you mean by that?"

"Nothing, it's just…I dunno, you just seem very smart. Like you've got your shit together. It's a compliment."

"Didn't sound like a compliment."

"How is saying that you're smart not a compliment?"

"I don't know, but in that sense, it felt more like you were calling me a…a nerd or something."

"A lot of doctors are nerds, you know," Ron said, still grinning at her. It turned out that winding her up was way more entertaining than studying.

"Well it's not what they strive for, I'm sure," she replied, her face turning a light shade of red. "But if being smart and accomplished and having the desire to help others makes someone a nerd, then fine, I'm a nerd. It doesn't mean I don't have other interests, though."

"Such as?"

"None of your business."

"Woah, woah, okay. It wasn't a loaded question. I'm just genuinely curious."

"Are you?"

Maybe it was because she actually looked even cuter when she pouted, but he decided to cut her some slack.

"Okay, fine. I'm sorry. Tell you what, my turn, okay? I'm Ron Weasley, I grew up about half an hour east of here, and I'm in my sophomore year. I'm taking biology to fulfill a requirement and, if I'm being honest, it's not my cup of tea. What is my cup of tea, however, is the Ultimate Frisbee club team, and they've told me I can't play unless I do well in this class, so while I can't promise to like it, at least I'm here."

"Well, that's downright inspiring."

"Excuse me?" he said, taken aback by her level of sarcasm.

"I'm so glad to be spending my free time helping someone who doesn't want to be helped, is only in this class because he has to be, and is only motivated by a desire to continue playing competitive frisbee."

What the fuck? It's like she's already made her mind up about me!

"You know, I'm getting the impression that you don't really like me."

"No, I'm rather ambivalent towards you thus far. I just don't like to think that I'm wasting my time. Am I wasting my time, Mr. Weasley?"

"It's Ron."

"Whatever."

Things were off to a horrible start. Ron closed his eyes, trying to recall the feeling he got when he was running down the practice field at Ultimate Frisbee practice, knowing full well that he was going to make a diving catch. The feeling of the turf under his shoes, the sureness of his footing, the perfect timing of the leap, the feel of hard plastic when his hand clamped down on the frisbee. There was nothing else in the world like it. And it was slipping away from him. If he couldn't make this class work, it would all evaporate.

"Hermione, right? Am I saying it right?"

"You are," she said, not looking up from her textbook lying open on the table.

"I'm sorry, Hermione. You're not wasting your time. Chapter three, let's get started."

"And you're going to focus and actually study?"

"I am."

"No more messing around?"

"Nope, none."

"You're not interested in my star sign or my high school part-time job or my favorite pizza toppings?"

"Don't tell me you're a pineapple person…"

"Of course not, but that's beside the point."

"Whew!," he replied, wiping his brow. "Good. Otherwise I don't know if this thing would work."

One more glare in his direction and he clamped his mouth shut and looked away. "Sorry, I'll stop."

After considering him for several moments, she nodded her head and reopened her computer. "Alright, let's get started."

The next hour seemed to crawl by. No matter how hard he tried, Ron just couldn't keep himself fully focused on the material. He was used to taking little breaks here and there, chatting with his friends, and maybe scrolling on his phone for a few minutes. But Hermione was having none of that. Any time he started to drift off track or she could tell that he wasn't paying attention, she made sure to call him out on it.

The high point came about half an hour in when she extracted a bag of gummy bears from her bag and started nibbling on them one by one. Slowly, she ate the ears first, then the rest of the head, and finally the belly and legs. It was so calculated and strangely endearing, and he couldn't help but smile to himself. He liked it even better when she offered him some.

Still, by the time the hour was up, he was more than ready to call it an evening. He wasn't sure if he'd ever get the image of those little carbohydrate rings or lipid tails out of his mind. Studying with Hermione Granger had been the least fun thing he'd done in years, and that was saying something. In addition, he couldn't shake the feeling that she still just didn't like him, and that no matter how hard he worked, it would never be enough to help overcome her opinion of him. That said, even he had to admit that he had a better grasp of the concepts, and he felt more than ready for his discussion section at the beginning of next week.

"So," he said as he packed up his bag, "same time next week?"

"Yes, if you like."

"Sure. You're, umm, you're a good teacher."

"Thank you," she replied, the tips of her ears turning pink. "Please come prepared next time. You can start by reviewing the concepts of protein and nucleic acid structure. Dr. Sprout will be covering them in her lecture next week."

"Got it, can do."

"Right. Anything else I can answer for you?"

"No, I think that about does it."

"Alright. Until next week, then."

They walked together out of the room and back down the stairs, not saying another word to each other the entire way. Ron had never had a hard time talking with anyone, even people that were very different from him, yet he felt as though he had no idea what to say. Giving up on the prospect of any further conversation, he resigned himself to holding the door open for her and stepping back out into the cold, dark night.