Disclaimer: I own nothing.

Wheels on the Bus

A/N: This is a oneshot in the Illusions 'verse. Check out the main fic, Fading Illusions on my profile. An accompanying oneshot for this fic is called 'The One Where Harry Bakes Hermione a Cake,' which you can also read on my profile!

Summary: In a world without Hogwarts, potions, or spells, the magic of friendship still exists. A chance meeting between two lonely elementary schoolers leads to a magical friendship that lasts for years to come. (Muggle AU)

At the corner of the street on which every house looked the same, stood a screaming hoard of children and their attentive parents. One such family included a mother who was fretting over her precious 'Diddyums,' a boy that looked more pig than child. He was overweight, unhealthily so, that spoke of overindulgence of the highest degree. The woman, his mother, kept smoothing down his already greased hair and pinching his cheeks. The other parents were much of the same, but none of them as obnoxious as her.

One child stood out from all the rest. Not because he was taller than the others, in fact, he looked like a third grader despite the fact that he was starting his first day of fifth grade. No, the boy was different because he didn't have a parent with him, or any guardian by the looks of it. He was alone.

The boy cowered under the gazes of expectant parents, unused to the attention. He toed his foot into a crack on the sidewalk and shifted his ratty backpack farther up onto his back.

It was like this every year. It usually stopped once the parents gossiped enough to satisfy their curiosity, but the boy had stopped wishing a long time ago. Wishing that they would stop. Wishing that his mom was there to say good luck like Mrs. Polkiss always did. Wishing that his dad would be there to ruffle his hair and hug him goodbye. Wishing to be normal. Normal was far behind him. Normal was what the Dursleys aspired to be, and he wanted to be as different from them as he could possibly be.

The boy resisted the urge to run a hand through his hair. He had tried to slick it down with water that previous morning in a last ditch effort to control it. To control something. The Dursleys always gave him Dudley's old clothes or clothes that he had ruined, so he always looked like a hooligan, as Uncle Vernon liked to say. The boy looked up again to see parents fretting last minute as the bright yellow school bus pulled up to the corner.

The boy stood in the back of the line that had formed, deciding it was the best way to not get crushed by the horde of screaming bodies. He wasn't as excited to start school as the rest of his classmates. Fifth grade wasn't much different than fourth, or third, or second really. It was just school. But he loved school with as much passion as a ten-year-old possibly could.

He loved learning, and he was good at it. It wasn't very often that the boy was good at something. So he showed off. Well, used to show off. Dudley hated being in the same class as his bright cousin, so Dudley learned more of what wasn't taught in the classroom. He learned intimidation, how to lie, and that his cousin would always be an easy target.

So, the boy hid it after one too many lessons from Uncle Vernon.

"You are a dumb kid and need to remember that! No way a dumb kid like you could be smarter than a son of mine! My son! Not my no good, freak of a nephew!"

The boy shuffled forward in the line on autopilot, slowly moving his feet to not scuff or scratch his already well-worn sneakers. They were scraggly and looked like they needed tape to keep the shoe together. The laces were tied tightly and then wrapped around his ankles to keep them on firmly. And to prevent any bullies from stepping on them and tripping him.

He took a deep breath as he stepped onto the bus, hoping that he didn't look as nervous as he felt. Showing any sign of weakness meant that he was already giving up. And he wasn't weak, no matter what anyone called him.

Dudley was in the back with his friends, as the boy expected. There were some other fifth graders sitting by themselves who quickly moved their backpacks to the empty spot next to them. The boy felt himself flush in a mixture of embarrassment and anger. He quickly grew resigned to his fate as the bus driver gave him a nasty glare, as if to tell him to sit down quickly.

He scanned the rest of the bus, seeing groups of siblings or third and fourth graders who he didn't want to get bullied for being nice to him.

Then, he saw her.

She was sitting alone in the front on the right side of the bus in the seat that was easily seen by the bus driver, so it was usually empty. After all, it wasn't cool to be caught being rowdy by the bus driver. She was bigger than him, which wasn't that unusual. He mentally guessed she was in fifth grade, like him. The girl had brown hair that was so curly and frizzy that it made her look about two inches taller. She was wearing expensive clothes, and the boy looked down at his threadbare shirt and then back up at her. She was looking right at him and a large smile lit up her face.

She scooted over more towards the window and the boy paused. He looked back at the scowling bus driver and then back to her. Her smile had faltered a little, but then he took a single step toward her and it was back. This one was different. It showed her teeth off in a way that probably wasn't flattering, but the boy didn't care. She didn't seem like she would want to hurt him.

"Hello! I'm Hermione Granger! What's your name?

"I'm Harry," he replied quietly, but still loud enough to be heard over the din on the bus. He took his backpack off and set it on the ground in front of him.

"That's a cool name! Were you named after Prince Harry? Or Harry Houdini?"

"I, uh, don't know. My parents died when I was little, so I guess I won't know."

"Oh, I'm so sorry!" Her hair managed to grow an inch taller as she grew more embarrassed.

"No, it's fine. I never knew them," Harry tried to reassure her.

"Well, I'm named after a Shakespeare character. She was a Queen in The Winter's Tale!" Harry regarded the girl in front of him and decided that she had the grace of a queen.

"It suits you." Harry decided, nodding his head definitely.

"If I'm a queen, you should be a king! Harry is sometimes a nickname for Henry, and there were a lot of King Henrys!" Harry didn't know if he was kingly material.

"My name is just Harry though," Harry questioned. Hermione waved him off.

"It's fine! You don't need that. You could still be a king!"

"Sure, why not. King Harry, pleased to make your acquaintance."

Hermione leaned forward as if to curtsey while remaining in her seat.

"Pleased to meet you, your highness." The two giggled at each other as the scenes outside meshed together with the speed of the bus.

"Do you know who you have as a teacher this year? I'm going into fifth grade so I have Mr. Emelio." Harry still wasn't sure what grade the girl next to him was in, but he hoped that she was his age.

"I have him too!" Hermione said excitedly. "Sit next to me in class?"

She grew shy but Harry, so used to being unwanted, was startled by her proclamation.

"Of course!" he replied.

It was the beginning of a great friendship.

A/N: Here's the first oneshot for my Illusions 'verse! Starting off small, will hopefully add things as I write more.

Comment your opinions and give me ideas for more oneshots! They'll be in middle school (grades 6-8) and freshman year together before Fading Illusions starts, so please give me some suggestions!

Thanks to dylanpidge for betaing!