Chapter Text
Hermione didn't know why she couldn't stop staring.
It's not as if the boy was particularly handsome. He was covered in freckles and had a freakishly long nose with dirt on it. But there was something about him — maybe found in the gorgeous contrast between his bright red hair and blue eyes — that kept her from looking away.
"Are you just going to stand there staring or d'you mind helping me?"
Hermione blinked. The boy had looked up from the trunk he had been struggling to tug onto the train and was now glaring at her
"Sorry," she snapped, both surprised and irritated by the boy's harsh tone. "If you wanted help, you could have just asked."
"Am I not asking now?" he said through gritted teeth.
His dedication to bad manners stoked embers within Hermione. She gave him a disdainful once over before saying, "I'll help with yours if you help with mine."
He rolled his eyes. "Fine. Now will you help?"
"Fine."
The boy pulled while Hermione pushed and before long, it was her trunk's turn to be heaved onto the carriage.
"Yours weighs a tonne," the boy gasped, pulling at her trunk with all his might. "What do you have in here, dragon bones?"
"Well," she panted through her own strenuous pushes, "I have all the first year books and—"
With a loud grunt, the boy successfully yanked the trunk the rest of the way through.
"I also have all the Standard Book of Spells for the rest of the years," Hermione added, climbing into the carriage, "and then I have several for pleasure reading like Hogwarts, A History—"
"God," the boy interrupted, rolling his eyes again, "it would absolutely be my luck that my first conversation with another first year is with a bigger swot than Percy."
"Who's Percy?"
Rather than answer, the boy very rudely turned on his heel without another word and began dragging his trunk behind him, in search of a compartment. Hermione huffed impatiently, grabbed the handle of her trunk, and took off after him.
"Are you following me?" he asked irately after a couple of paces.
Hermione glowered at the back of his head. "Oh, you're just so full of yourself, aren't you? Where else would I go to search for a compartment?"
"Oh, I don't know, the exact opposite direction that I'm going in?"
"Look," she said, trying to keep her temper under control, "it would be so much faster if we split up the search. You look on the left, and I'll look on the right."
"Fine," the boy eventually said, his back still to her. Under his breath, he added, "Little Miss Bossy Know-it-all."
"Hey!" Hermione cried. "I heard that! Truly, you are the worst person I think I've ever met."
The boy turned around with a smirk. "From you, I'll take that as a compliment."
Hermione opened her mouth angrily, but before she could formulate a retort, the train jolted. Suddenly, Hermione was flying through the air, her cry mingling with his. The next thing she knew, Hermione was on top of a skinny body, her face shoved into the boy's neck.
With some difficulty, she managed to lift her head. The first sight to greet her was those azure eyes, deeper than any ocean Hermione had ever swam in. Time seemed to freeze as their gazes locked. Eventually, her eyes moved down to find parted, pink lips, a mere inch from her own. He was as still as a statue underneath her, his breath tickling her mouth in a strangely pleasant way. Hermione found herself inexplicably wondering what it would be like to close the distance. She barely registered the dip of her head, an action that felt more automatic than purposeful…
Panic flared in the boy's eyes, and he squirmed underneath her, breaking the spell. "Get the fuck off me, will you?"
Hermione gasped at the foul language and pushed herself off at once.
"You don't have to be so rude, you know!" she cried, face heating with confused realisation about what they had just avoided. "It's not like I intentionally knocked into you."
The boy rose to his feet, all the while staring at her disconcertedly.
"Look, that compartment has space," he said, pointing to one on the left. "Why don't you take it? I'm going to keep looking."
Hermione peered into the compartment in question. It had two girls who looked roughly their age. She turned to the boy, dragging his trunk away from her with all the urgency of someone eager to flee the scene of a crime.
"There's space for two here," she called to his back.
"Nah, I'd rather keep looking."
"What if you don't find one?"
The boy turned right before he stepped into the next carriage and arched an eyebrow. "Well, that's not your problem, is it? Seeing as I'm the worst person you've ever met."
The boy smirked at Hermione's lack of response and disappeared into the next carriage. Oh, she could just about combust, that boy made her so angry! She forced herself to take a deep breath before entering the compartment. She was determined to forget everything about that odious boy and focus on getting to know her compartment mates, who turned out to be second-year Hufflepuffs. She asked incessant questions about their last year and even visited other compartments to gather more information about the Hogwarts experience. But try as she might, she could not get the image of that boy's intense eyes and soft lips out of her head.
When she encountered Neville Longbottom searching for his missing toad, Hermione jumped at the chance to help. She reasoned that a mission that necessitated the use of all of her senses would sufficiently distract her from thinking about that boy. It was not at all because she hoped that the hunt would lead her to him again, no, of course not…
Her heart skipped a beat when she found him in a compartment with a black-haired boy. He had a massive, disgusting rat on his lap and held his wand aloft as though he was going to cast a spell.
"Oh, I already tried here," Neville said, but Hermione wasn't paying attention. She barged into the compartment before she could second guess herself.
“Has anyone seen a toad? Neville’s lost one,” she said.
The boy's eyes narrowed at the sight of her. “We’ve already told him we haven’t seen it."
“Oh, are you doing magic?" she said, ignoring him and taking a seat. "Let’s see it, then.”
The boy looked taken aback by her request, which pleased Hermione. It was a nice change from the permanent glower that seemed to be on his face every time he looked at her direction.
The boy attempted the spell to no success. Hermione resisted the urge to smirk.
“Are you sure that’s a real spell?” she said. “Well, it’s not very good, is it?"
That glower was back, but this time, Hermione was prepared for it. Her mouth twitched in vindictive amusement.
"I’ve tried a few simple spells just for practice and it’s all worked for me," she bragged. She further detailed how no one in her family was magic and that she had memorised all of their spellbooks by heart.
Looks like this swot will beat you on every exam, you red-haired idiot, Hermione thought as she observed the stunned expression on both boys' faces.
Realising that she still didn't know the boy's name, she added, "I’m Hermione Granger, by the way, who are you?"
"I'm Ron Weasley," the boy muttered.
She smirked as his meek expression before turning to the other boy, who introduced himself as Harry Potter. Recognition jolted in her brain. “Are you really?”
As she shared everything she knew about the famous Harry Potter, she saw Ron scowl out of the corner of his eye. He was probably jealous that Harry was worth knowing and he wasn't. In this brief interaction, Harry showed that fame wasn't the only thing he had in his possession but actual manners, too. Hermione took a final opportunity to showcase her knowledge about Hogwarts houses before taking her leave with Neville, feeling immensely satisfied with giving that horrid Ron Weasley a taste of his own medicine.
His voice rang through just before Neville shut the compartment door. “Whatever House I’m in, I hope she’s not in it."
Hermione stood rooted to the spot, face flaming while Neville observed her sheepishly. Ron Weasley was officially her enemy. He was indeed the absolute worst person Hermione had the displeasure of meeting in her entire life.