As always, the start-of-term feast was a highly exciting affair for most. The sorting took place, with many new students making it into Gryffindor, and Ron groaning and moaning about the wait for food while I shouted at various people to keep their voices down and their disciplines intact.

Harry sat a little sullen, though, not saying much.

“Harry?”

Food had appeared, and I had forced Ron to quieten down everyone for a change. He was nearly at loggerheads with Simon Drew, at the moment, all else forgotten. Sliding into the seat next to Harry, my eyes on Ron, I placed a hand on his arm, and he looked up, creases on his forehead.

“Are you alright?” I asked him gently.

Harry nodded, trying to smile. “I – Hermione, my foot on the carriage –” he stopped suddenly. “Nothing, forget I ever said that.”

I nodded, looking over at Ron. Harry followed my gaze and looked at Ron - who was now looking flustered as Simon got the upper hand in their fight - too. “You think we should save him?” he asked with a short laugh as Simon’s actions became a little threatening.

“No, let’s not,” I joked back pleasantly. I pulled a plate towards myself, and Harry passed me the dish of salted chicken.

“Thanks,” I said, tipping some into my plate with eagerness. The day had made me hungry, and I was already looking forward to a long, nice sleep after I was done eating and showing the first years their dormitories.

“My pleasure, ‘Mione,” came the good-natured response.

We ate in silence broken only by light jokes and laughter until Ron returned, some minutes later. He sat down, looking furious, his jaw rather set. “Stupid jerk,” he said loudly, looking pointedly over at Simon as he spoke.

A second later, he was ducking as a furious jet of blue light flew his way, and Harry and I had burst out into mutual laughter.