"Do you see any other first years, Raul?" Neville asked.
"It's Ron."
"Whatever. Do you see any more?" he asked with a superior smirk on his face.
"No, I… hey, here comes one. Say, what's his problem?"
"I know him. That's Harry Potter. He's such a loser. I had to remind him of that just a month ago. Hello, loser, what are… urk."
Harry quickly grabbed Neville in a chokehold and entered his personal space with a grimace. "You're a creep, Longbottom. What did Hermione ever do to you?"
"… urk. Who?" Gasp. Wheeze.
"My height. Brown, bushy hair, helping another student look for her lost cat. She asked if you had seen it and all you thought to do was berate, belittle and insult her because you're, oh that's right, you're the wanker-who-lived."
"You can't talk to him like that," Ron said, pulling his wand out.
"Put that back, Weasel, or I'll make sure it gets shoved up where the sun don't shine. You got it? As for you, Longbottom, you don't go near my friends again or else."
"Er… or else what?" he ventured.
"You're a smart wanker, Longbottom. You figure it out. Now I promised Hermione that I wouldn't fight either of you earlier so I'm not going to thump either of you no matter how much you deserve it. But have either of you ever heard of an atomic wedgie?"
"What's that?" Ron asked in confusion.
"Funny you should ask…"
...
It had taken a little bit for Hermione to actually open up and admit what had happened to start the waterworks. Apparently a series of events happened with the end result a teary-eyed little witch entered back into Harry's life. After stowing her luggage in a cart, Hermione had tried her hand at a conversation with the kids in the car. They were all older than she was and they did what older kids usually did in events like that: they ignored her.
Figuring that it was an age issue, and not a blood issue as she had no knowledge of that particular slant of society, she went in search for kids her own age where she could have a more level-headed conversation about the merits of Hogwarts, or at least what she'd already committed to memory from Hogwarts, A History . A few times she was politely informed she was interrupting a private conversation among old friends, but more often than not she simply had the car's door closed in her face. Still determined, she eventually encountered two kids her own age that were looking for a lost cat. She jumped in for the search and about 10 minutes later she encountered a stuck-up blonde boy with two other large boys flanking him.
The blonde boy, who Hermione later found out was named Draco Malfoy, tried his best sneer out on her and called her a mudblood when she'd informed him that she was the first witch she knew of in her family. Lacking any perspective of the context that comment came from, Hermione was not insulted (i.e., she didn't know what it meant) and Draco was about to try out another patented sneer when lo and behold who should arrive but another two boys who had a particular vent against Draco, the one with red hair and freckles seeming to have the most ire at the blonde. The two groups traded insults for a bit and Hermione was about to leave when suddenly both groups noticed her and started insulting her, as if they were in a contest to see who could get her to cry first. Honestly, how rude. Hermione started backing out of that location as quickly as she could and a few minutes later she found herself in Harry's compartment.
Draco, Harry could understand. He was a product of his upbringing, and if Harry could circumvent that without killing the little s.o.b. (again), he would. It would certainly save the lives of more Slytherins later on. But Longbottom and Weasley? What had Hermione ever done to them? Longbottom was nothing like the Neville he'd known a life away. But Ron - as much as he hated to admit it, this Ron sounded just like the one he'd left: he was a grade-A jerk.
When Harry had explained at Hermione's insistence what that "mudblood" comment actually meant, Hermione was about to let loose another round of eye leakage. Harry was finally able to calm her down with a few light jokes, getting her to smile again. Shortly after that, he made an excuse that he needed to find the boy's loo and he'd be back shortly. That was when he went in search of Longbottom and Jerk.
Arriving back at the compartment, Harry slid the door open and noticed a few more people in there than the last time.
"Hi, Harry. Feel better?"
"Absolutely, Hermione. Once I got something out of me, I felt a lot better. Who are your friends?"
"These are the two kids I was telling you about earlier. This is Pam Turner (1) whose cat we were looking for…"
"Hi," she said, stroking a black and white furball.
"Hello," Harry replied sincerely. Harry never truly remembered his sorting all that well, he couldn't place all the kids no matter how hard he tried. But one thing was for certain: Pam Turner was never in Gryffindor.
"And this is Edward Gallandro (1) ." He waved and Harry replied in kind. "They both came in a few minutes ago telling me they finally found Pam's cat. Isn't that wonderful?"
"Sure," Harry responded, taking a seat next to Edward, a dark-haired boy whose hair was cut short over two brown eyes. His thin lips weren't smiling as he took everything in. Harry had seen that look before. He'd need to talk a few things over with Edward before the year was out, one way or another.
"We were just talking about the houses at Hogwarts," Hermione supplied.
"I don't like Slytherin," Edward finally said.
"Really?" Harry's eyebrow shot up. "Why's that?"
"They wear green and silver trim on their robes. It is too girly." The way he said it - so matter-of-factly, Harry couldn't help himself and he started laughing.
When he finally stopped, Harry looked at Edward and stated, "You speak your mind. I like you."
"And what's wrong with being a girl?" Pam finally said, eyes narrowing towards Edward.
And that set off another debate on how Edward didn't want to be a girl, but he loved his mother and sister dearly. Harry noticed he didn't say anything about his father.
"So, Harry, what house do you think we'll be in?" Hermione asked.
Harry remembered quite a bit about his first year in Hogwarts the first time around. Amazing what a madman with a penchant to want to kill you could make him remember. The lousy hat had wanted to put him into Slytherin before he'd argued (more like pleaded) to not be placed there. Then he was placed in Gryffindor. At the time it was right for him.
But now?
Now was different. For one thing, he was pretty sure that Neville was going to Gryffindor and the last thing he wanted was to spend the next seven years sleeping in the same room at that prat. Or have to listen to Ron snore with that bellow set of lungs of his. Still, he didn't want to leave his friend alone with that sort of crowd if he could help it.
Ravenclaw? Certainly he was smarter than any of the other incoming first years, but he didn't have a love to devour a book. It was more a necessary chore rather than a love of books. He did it because he needed to, not because he wanted to. If he could, he'd rather read a nice fiction book like he used to back in his primary school. Textbooks were so dry.
....
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