One Last Try [HP Jamione fanfic]

8. It's Nice to Have a Friend

A/N: It feels like it's been FOREVER since I updated this, but it's literally only been a week haha! I've gotten 28 chapters written so far, and I'm nearing the end of their fifth year, god this fic is going to be so much longer than I planned!

I really hope you like this chapter! More huge time skips now, until we get to the meat of the fic in a few chapters time :P Let me know what you thought! I love hearing your predictions hehe, especially when I'm already so far ahead and some of you guess stuff correctly :D

1st September 1972

Hermione's first year passed quickly, and with so little drama that she'd been shocked - no Voldemort, no three-headed dogs and impossible puzzles or trials to get through - only the usual tests, lessons, and silly pranks pulled by the future Marauders. The only really notable thing that had happened was a Hufflepuff boy in her year, Davey Gudgeon, having a run in with the Whomping Willow after ignoring Dumbledore's instructions to steer clear of the vicious tree and nearly losing an eye. Thankfully his injury had served as a rather good deterent for any other stupid students wanting to test their mettle against the tree.

Now she was on the train back to Hogwarts for second year already. She'd spent her long relaxing summer reading in the massive Prewett library, or swimming in the pool down the end of the garden. She traversed the train, moving with it as it rocked on its way along the tracks that led it out of Kings Cross Station and away from London.

She headed for the compartment at the end where she'd sat every year for her first time at Hogwarts, and for her first year last year. She could hear noise already coming from there, Sirius' loud barking laugh standing out amongst the other's. She smiled and was just about to head further down the train to join them when she happened to glance into one of the compartments as she passed.

It was empty except for a first-year with familiar wavy dark hair, though it was pulled back in a neat cue, and grey eyes that darted over to her in confusion when she entered the compartment and sat opposite him. For all that Regulus Black looked like his older brother, he had a clearly calmer countenance that made him seem older than his eleven years, and much more mature than his Gryffindor counterpart.

"Who are you?" He asked sharply, eyes skimming over her, clearly assessing whether she was of pure enough blood for him to associate with her or not. She normally would have been indignant at the thought, but she knew how tough his and Sirius' homelife was. She could also surmise how much harder he would have had it since both Sirius' sorting and Andromeda's disownment earlier that year. The Black family had tried to cover up the scandal of the middle daughter's marriage to Ted Tonks and subsequent cast off from the family with Narcissa's engagement announcement, but it had been the talk of pure-blood circles for weeks afterwards.

Regulus came to some kind of conclusion as his eyes narrowed a little, and he raised an eyebrow. For all her training and instruction she'd had, and the two years spent with Iphemia and Geraint, the older pure-blood families, and their children who'd been brought up in their ways since birth, had an uncanny ability to determine one's family with only a short assessment.

It stung to be so clearly found wanting, but she ploughed through it like the Gryffindor she was, and stuck her hand out, determined to make friends with the future Slytherin, whether he wanted it or not. He'd also be essential to her future plans, and if he got a true friend in the process she wasn't against it. When he finally took it, she introduced herself, "Hermione Prewett. You're Regulus Black, correct?"

"Yes." He said slowly, eyeing her sceptically, clearly surprised she knew so quickly. She held back her scowl at his further prejudice. The Prewetts were just as old a family as the Blacks, and even if they weren't, that was no way to judge someone's worth. "How do you know?"