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Hermione’s quill taps a nervous rhythm against the wooden tabletop, the only sound in the quiet library. She must be alone here. The only person not at the feast.
She was so excited to come to Hogwarts, so excited to finally be around people like her. Except not everybody is like her. It turns out there’s a big difference between muggle-borns and those with magical parents. At least to her housemates.
Hermione read Hogwarts: A History cover to cover during the summer, so she knows all about the different houses. On paper, the rivalries and bloody purity standards appeared archaic. A relic as bygone as Salazar himself.
And yet, not one of the Slytherins had spoken to her after the Sorting Hat made its choice and she took her seat beneath the green and silver banners.
Shortly after that, Hermione had excused herself from the feast, seeking solace in the one place that had always been a comfort. She has survived this far in her life with only books as friends; why should the next seven years be any different?
A creak of hinges echoes through the cavernous library, and Hermione gathers her things. It can only be the librarian here to tell her off. First years don’t have free reign of the castle, after all. It’s not Madam Pince, however, who rounds the end of the bookshelf closest to her. The boy who appears instead looks as if he ran all the way from the Great Hall.
His red hair is tousled, and based on Hermione’s interaction with the other Slytherins, the smile on his face doesn’t match the green and silver striped tie that hangs loose around his neck. She remembers seeing him briefly on the train but never caught his name, and she didn’t stick around long enough to see him sorted.
“I didn’t think anyone else would be here,” he says, leaning against the bookshelf and yanking at the knot in his tie to fully unfurl it.
Hermione gives the boy a curious frown. “Are you hiding from someone?”
“My brothers.” He sighs and rolls his bright blue eyes. “I’m Ron, by the way. Ron Weasley.”
“I’m Hermione Granger. Why are you hiding from your brothers?”
Ron shoots her a rueful smile as he holds up the tie in answer before tossing it aside. “My whole family are in Gryffindor,” he replies as he slides down the length of the bookcase to sit on the ground. “Bloody hell, I’m never going to live this down.”
Hermione frowns. She’s never heard such language from someone her own age.
Before she can comment, Ron continues, “Reckon it’s my own fault. I went up there thinking ‘I just want to be different’. But I thought, y’know, maybe Hufflepuff. Not Slytherin. Never Slytherin.”
His frustration mirrors her own, and Hermione says, “I don’t belong in Slytherin, either.”
“Why not?”
“Because I’m muggle-born.”
“That’s a load of rubbish. Anybody can be a good witch or wizard. None of us knows what we’re doing yet, do we?”
“No, I guess not.”
Hermione settles on the floor across from Ron, tucking her feet beneath her as she fiddles with the end of her tie.
“Why do you think you got sorted into Slytherin, then?” Ron asks.
She wonders that herself. She hadn’t really guessed at what house she would be sorted into prior to coming to Hogwarts, preferring to keep an open mind, but her chilly welcome into Slytherin is a clear sign she doesn’t belong.
“Well, I’d like to be Head Girl one day. So ambition fits, I suppose.”
“Head Girl? We’ve only just got here!”
“I know what I want.”
Hermione shrugs and gets to her feet. Ron seemed nice enough at first, but if he’s only going to tease her, she’d rather be alone.
“Hey, wait!”
She hears the shuffle of Ron’s feet as he scrambles to follow her, and she slows her steps to allow him to catch up.
“I didn’t mean anything by it. It’s—I mean, I get it. It’d be wicked to be Quidditch Captain one day.”
He offers her a smile that she chooses to take as sincere. Maybe it would be nice to have a friend, after all.
“Perhaps the Hat sensed ambition in you, too, then.”
“Yeah. Maybe.” Ron holds his tie up in front of him as they walk, giving it a look of disdain. “But hey, at least we have each other,” he adds cheerfully.
His words put a smile on Hermione’s face for the first time since she was sorted. With Ron by her side, maybe being in Slytherin won’t be so bad.