Chapter Text
“Hermione Granger!”
Hermione startles as her name was called by Professor McGonagall, who she learned was the transfiguration teacher here at Hogwarts. McGonagall had welcomed them to the castle and had swiftly escorted her and the other first years through the winding rooms to the great hall for their sorting ceremony.
Hermione had read about the sorting ceremony in Hogwarts, a History, however the descriptions were quite vague, leaving her anxious and confused. Despite her worries, when the first student was called up and sorted (by a talking hat no less!) her fascination got the better of her and she felt herself relax as the ceremony proceeded, temporarily pushing aside her anxieties about her own sorting. Needless to say, this train of thought had been broken as her name was called and she was beckoned forward.
She nervously made her way to the front of the hall before sitting gently on the stool provided for the first years. McGonagall gave her a slight smile, probably used to calming down the nervous students, before placing the sorting hat upon her head.
“Hermione Granger. Where to put you?” Hermione shifted nervously atop the stool.
“Could be Ravenclaw, You’ve got the brains for it. You could thrive amongst the others there,” the hat mused. “Or maybe Slytherin, you’ve got the ambition and strive for greatness.”
Hermione shuddered. From what she had read about in Hogwarts, a History, Slytherin house had a dark reputation, which is something she did not want to be a part of. Plus, she may be young but she had read about the wizarding world and it’s dark history; she wasn’t ignorant about her blood status and how many wizards, particularly with a Slytherin background, thought that she was lesser and didn’t deserve to have magic, so she desperately wanted to avoid that crowd.
“Not Slytherin, eh?” She startled, realizing that the hat was reading her thoughts. She had never considered that the hat would take her own feelings into account, always assuming a strict set of guidelines would determine the precise place she belonged.
“No worries, there's room for you yet in another house. How about Hufflepuff? I sense a great deal of loyalty and love within you.”
That didn’t sound bad to Hermione, however she doubted what she could accomplish simply through the kindness in her heart.
“Not Hufflepuff either? Someone’s picky,” the hat chuckled at her. “Well, what about Gryffindor? You’ve got the loyalty and the drive. Hm, that’s interesting . . .” the hat trailed off
“What? What is it?” She thought, curious as to what the hat was seeing inside her that perhaps she didn’t even see in herself yet.
“No need to worry, child. Yes, I’m certain. Better be . . . GRYFFINDOR!”
The room erupted in applause as a shocked Hermione made her way over to the table draped in red and gold paraphernalia. As she made her way to an empty seat, she received many cheers and pats on the back from her fellow house-mates.
Honestly, she thought she would be placed in Ravenclaw, the house of intelligence, wit, and creativity. She knew she was a bit nerdy. From a young age, she excelled at her muggle school and was known for being a goody-two-shoes. And after all, she did do extensive research on the school’s history and completed some of her course readings before classes even started, so she was in a bit of a shock as she made her way to a seat with the house of the brave and the loyal.
Besides the few others she had met on the train and before the ceremony, she didn’t know anyone well enough to seek them out, and she squeezed her way into an empty spot along the benches.
As she scanned the others at the table, she noticed that a group around her all shared the same fiery red hair. She felt a tap on her shoulder and turned to look, instantly surprised by the identical faces that stared back at her.
“Welcome to Gryffindor!” one of the twins greeted excitedly. He reached out to shake her hand. “I’m Fred.”
“And I’m George.”
“And that,” Fred continued as he pointed towards a redheaded boy she encountered on the train, “is our brother, Ron.”
Hermione was immediately intrigued. Her short encounter with Ron on the train was an experience to say the least, but she could already tell how different the brothers acted. Fred and George were still quite young, only a year or two older than herself if she had to guess, but she could tell they had grown into themselves and their personalities much more than Ron has so far. Their meeting on the train wasn’t wholly unpleasant, but Ron seemed much shyer and more unsure of himself compared to his outgoing brothers.
“Our entire family has a history in Gryffindor house, and we’re hoping ickle Ronniekins will join us when it’s his turn,” Fred explained in a whisper as the ceremony continued.
“Your entire family?”
“Yep!” George butts in. “Both our parents and our three older brothers, Bill, Charlie, and Percy, were all sorted into Gryffindor. It would be quite the scandal if the hat placed Ron somewhere else.”
Hermione instantly felt a sense of sympathy overcome her. She didn’t know Ron well, but having that kind of pressure to be sorted into a “correct” house must be a horrible weight on a kid their age. No wonder he was acting so strange on the train.
“Ronald Weasley!” The sorting hat shouted, startling Hermione out of her thoughts once more. Beside her, Fred and George whooped loudly for their brother, instantly facing the wrong side of McGonagall’s harsh glare and gaining a few snickers in response. Ron flushed a bright red as he approached the stool.
Luckily, they didn’t have to wait long; almost as soon as the hat hit his head a resounding shout of “Gryffindor!” echoed through the halls.
Hermione cheered along with Fred and George as Ron made his way to their side of the table. She watched as the twins congratulated their brother, ruffling his hair affectionately.
“Congratulations,” Hermione told Ron.
He turned to her, startled, almost as if he hadn’t noticed her presence till that very moment. Recognition flashed through his eyes.
“Oh, you’re the girl from the train, aren’t you?” He asked.
“I’m Hermione,” she said as she reached out to shake his hand. “It’s a pleasure to finally meet you as a fellow Gryffindor!”
“Uh, yeah. A pleasure,” Ron responded, drawing back his hand slowly with a contemplative look on his face.
The conversation died off after that as they watched the final first years be sorted. Hermione was particularly excited that the Harry Potter was sorted into Gryffindor as well, and he had even taken a seat right next to Ron at the table!
Hermione watched as Ron was struck speechless by Harry’s presence. Heck, even as a muggleborn she had heard about his triumphant defeat of the dark lord as a baby and couldn’t help being a little intimidated by him, even if he is just a kid like them. Ever since she got her letter, she had dived head-first into the wizarding community despite her inexperience with magic, but being near someone with such power and potential was a lot for her to wrap her head around.
Finally, after the last first-year was sorted, Hermione watched as the headmaster, Albus Dumbledore, approached the podium. He cleared his throat, causing the whole hall to fall into silence, eyes directed his way.
“Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts. To those of you returning, welcome back, and to our first years, I hope this will be a wonderful start to your magical journey. Now, without further ado, Let the feast begin!”
Dumbledore let out a loud clap and Hermione watched in awe as the once empty plates that lined the table began to be filled with a wide assortment of dishes. She was still getting used to the casual displays of magic, and it never failed to amaze her.
As she began to pile food onto her plate, she observed the others at the table. Harry seemed to be just as shocked as her. It surprised everyone that the Harry Potter wasn’t used to magic until he briefly recalled the story of his discovery of the magical world and his abilities. After getting to know him more during the feast, she truly hoped that her and Harry would become good friends; it would be nice to have someone else around to explore the wizarding world with her.
Fred and George were already digging in, having previously experienced the annual feast at Hogwarts and the extravagance that came with it. Their brother, however, was not.
She looked on in disgust as Ron piled his plate to the brim with anything he could get his hands on, creating a small mountain of food that leaned precariously to one side. Ron was devouring a chicken leg like his life depended on it, uncaring that his face was already covered in grease.
“That’s disgusting,” she muttered under her breath.
However, she wasn’t as quiet as she hoped, as she heard some others snicker along in agreement. Ron must’ve heard as well, his face turning as red as his hair, and he ducked his head to hide his embarrassment. Then, the twin sitting next to her - Fred, she knew by the distinct freckle pattern across his face - nudged her with his elbow and bent close to her ear.
“We were all like that our first day at Hogwarts,” he whispered to her. “There’s not much food at home with our Ma trying to take care of all seven of us kids, so it’s nice to come here and not worry about those kinda things.”
Hermione became flushed scarlet with embarrassment. She’s faced enough judgment for being a teacher’s pet during her muggle schooling, and now for being muggleborn in a wizard society, so she felt ashamed putting that kind of judgment towards Ron when she didn’t know the extent of his situation. She hurriedly tried to sputter out an apology.
“I uh, I didn’t know. I- I never meant -”
“Aish, don’t get your knickers in a twist, it ain’t a big deal, and ickle Ronniekins has tough skin, he can handle a little teasing, although usually that’s George and I’s job.” He winked at her as he turned back to his plate. “Enjoy the feast Hermione.”
Hermione blushed, ducking her head and quietly returned her attention to her food. She had seven years ahead of her here at Hogwarts, and she didn’t want to start them off by making a fool of herself.