I own nothing in this story. J.K. Rowling deserves all the credit! She created the characters and the plot; I am merely jumping ahead in the story!
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Thanks to my two EXCELLENT betas, Sarah, a.k.a. skiving_snackbox and Danielle a.k.a. 3secondfish! You guys truly made the story what it is now! I love you guys!
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Hermione looked excitedly around at the surrounding crowds of witches and wizards, all of them waiting to board The Hogwarts Express. Hermione had just been made Head Girl, and she was looking forward to her final year at Hogwarts and seeing her friends Ron and Harry again. This year is going to be different; I can tell. However, at the thought of Ron’s name, her face grew hot. Hermione had had feelings for Ron, though Merlin knew why. She and Ron were always bickering about something or other. Hermione told herself sternly, Ron has had six years of chances to tell me. If he really did have feelings for me, he would have said something by now. He obviously isn’t interested.
She pushed Ron from her mind as she saw Harry maneuvering his way through the crowd towards her. Her hand went immediately to her bushy brown hair. She wished vainly she had sleek fine hair, like Ginny’s. What am I thinking? It’s just Harry, for goodness sake. Her face visibly brightened at the sight of him, and she breathed a sigh of relief when she saw that Ron wasn’t with him. Hermione didn’t want to have to deal with Ron, at least not yet.
"Hey Hermione," Harry grinned.
“Harry! How are you? Did you survive your summer at the Dursleys’? I heard,” said Hermione, lowering her voice cautiously, “that you’ve been helping to make Grimmauld Place, well, you know, habitable.”
“Yeah, I plan to live there once I‘m out of Hogwarts,” Harry replied, also lowering his voice, and peering around him at the surrounding wizards and witches “Still, it’s not the same without Sirius, of course.” Harry’s face turned to stone, and he looked away.
Hermione felt a stab of pain in her own heart at the mention of Sirius’ name. Poor Harry, how lonely he must feel.
Harry straightened and forced a smile. Returning to a normal tone, he asked, “How would you like to see a person making a right git of himself?” There was a mischievous gleam in his eyes.
Hermione, going along with it to take Harry’s mind away from Sirius, grinned back and replied, “Sure! Why not?”
Harry grabbed Hermione’s hand and pulled her towards the Hogwarts Express. Harry’s warm hand sent shivers up her arm and made her feel like butterflies were erupting in her stomach. Before she could really examine this strange feeling, Harry had let go of her hand.
He led her to a spot just to the left of the entrance of the train, where Ron and Padma Patil were standing. He seemed to be trying and failing dreadfully at making Padma smile. Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes at each other, trying to force down laughter.
Padma, seeing someone behind Ron’s shoulder, waved at them and told Ron as apologetically as she could muster, “Sorry Ron. There’s Parvati and Lavender; I promised that I’d meet them over there. Bye!” Her face looked a bit too eager to be convincing, but Ron didn’t argue with her.
Hermione waited until Padma was out of earshot and then turned to Ron. “Ron, you’re so,” Hermione began, searching for the right word, “tactless. Couldn’t you see she was looking for an excuse to get away?”
Ron’s face turned beet red. He stammered, “I… thought she was enjoying herself…,” but had to let the sentence trail off into silence.
“Ron, you pretty much ruined your chances with Padma when you ignored her for that whole evening at the Yule Ball in fourth year.” Hermione pointed out.
Ron’s face contorted in fury, so much that it made Hermione step back and stare bewildered. Why is he getting so defensive? She thought.
Hermione grabbed her trunk and Crookshank’s basket and hurriedly jumped on the train. What is going on? We always bicker like this. Why is this different? Why does he seem so very angry? Hermione pondered this as she made her way to the Prefect’s compartment. Harry caught up with her, and Hermione set her things down and turned around to see how he had reacted to Ron’s behavior. Harry seemed as if he was also confused by it, yet there was a knowing look on his face.
“What was that about?” Hermione asked, looking into Harry’s green eyes.
Harry shrugged and answered, “I expect he’s just tired of being corrected by you, that’s all,” he said. When he saw Hermione’s stricken face he added, “Not that I think you were out of line, in this case. You know there’s something about redheads and their pride,” Harry grinned at her.
His smile sent chills down Hermione’s spine. What’s going on with me? Why should I feel so strange when Harry looks at me like that? We’re just friends. Right?
Hermione’s thoughts were whirling around in her mind, and she could barely stop to consider one thought before another thought took over. She couldn’t figure out whether she was mad, or sad, or maybe even scared. Maybe a little bit of all of them.
Hermione nodded and tried to move swiftly into the compartment, not wanting Harry to see her blushing face. She bent down to pick up her trunk and basket but Harry already had them in his hand and was even holding the door open for her. He ignored her puzzled look, merely giving her a little push in. Following her into the compartment, he put her bags away in the luggage rack. Hermione was somewhat taken aback, but like any woman, she enjoyed the courtesy and politeness with which Harry was treating her with, however unexpected. She sat down in the window seat and shyly waved goodbye to Harry.
Hermione looked out the window, lost in thought. Harry’s such a gentleman; why can’t Ron be more like that? She realized that she was comparing her two best friends and was confused. She couldn’t like both of her best friends at once, could she? Hermione decided to let Crookshanks out of his basket, and set him on her lap. She absentmindedly stroked Crookshank’s soft fur as she watched the Hogwarts Prefects file in one by one.
Just as the train whistle sounded, Ron came in at last, grumbling something under his breath that sounded remarkably like, “If I ever...wring her neck...never speak...to her again...” After putting his own luggage away, he sat down, rather harder than necessary. He looked at once at Hermione, but his gaze was cold. Hermione sighed and stared miserably out of the window. It was going to be a very long train ride.