Chapter 1: "Why do today what you could half-ass tomorrow?"

A/N: Welcome to my new Muggle AU series, and thanks so much for reading! This story is going to take place over one semester of college in which Ron and Hermione meet and…things happen :)

A very big thank you to adenei for helping me whip this story into shape! Your stories were part of the reason I decided to give writing a try in the first place, and it was great to work with you on this one!

I'll be aiming for weekly updates going forward, but of course sometimes life happens.

On to the story - I hope you enjoy!

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Ron Weasley walked into the kitchen, took one look around, and shrugged. Empty cans of Natty Ice sat crushed in the corner, remnants of the rager they'd thrown a couple of nights ago. The trash overflowed, threatening an avalanche with one more addition to the top of the heap. Pizza boxes were stacked neatly on the opposite side of the room, but the floor was littered with small crumbs from leftover pieces of crust.

The lack of cleanliness didn't bother Ron or his roommates, Harry Potter and Seamus Finnigan. An apartment was an apartment, and it did the job for three college students who enjoyed a good time. After all, the three of them were a few weeks into the second semester of their sophomore year at Angell University, meaning they had far more important things to worry about. Would their Ultimate Frisbee club team improve on last year's third-place national showing? Which classes would guarantee them an A without having to do too much work? And, for the love of God, where were they most likely to run into the hottest girls? With all of that on their minds, how important could cleaning be?

Ron made his way back into the living room, gazing with admiration at the posters of LeBron James and Patrick Mahomes. ESPN was on the television, Harry's new PS5 was connected to the flat screen, and copies of Madden and FIFA scattered on the living room floor. Open bags of potato chips and bottles of Body Armor EDGE were open on the coffee table, adding to the messiness of the place. Ignoring it all, Ron crashed back down onto the lumpy futon.

"Fucking metal bar is going up my ass again!" he exclaimed. "Harry, we really need to replace this piece of shit."

"Fine with me if you've got the money," Harry replied as he turned the corner from his first-floor bedroom into the living room. "I'm broke."

"Did everybody chip in yet for the party?"

"No, I think we're still short at least fifty bucks."

"Goddamn freeloaders."

The three roommates hadn't minded hosting the annual start of the new Ultimate Frisbee season party over the weekend, but the least their teammates could do was pay up to help cover food and beer. But Ron should've known that they'd never see all of that back. No matter how hard you hounded people, some of them were always going to be unreliable.

"Yeah, well, I'll ask again at practice today. They can always just Venmo us, right?" Harry suggested.

"They better."

"Seamus!" Harry called. "Hurry up, practice starts in fifteen minutes, we've got to get going!"

Moments later, he could hear Seamus rustling through his closet overhead. The two of them shared the second floor of the apartment while Harry's room was on the main level. Hurried curse words echoed from above them until Seamus' bedroom door opened and slammed shut again. The staircase rumbled as the third roommate came dashing down, pulling his hoodie on over his head. Both Harry and Ron quirked their eyebrows in Seamus' direction.

"Sorry, sorry, couldn't find my fucking clothes," Seamus said. "I'm good now, let's go."

The three of them stepped into their sneakers and slipped on their jackets before piling out of the apartment and heading to practice. They'd only gone a block or so before they were all freezing from the biting January wind.

For most people, Ultimate Frisbee was just an activity that people picked up at a barbecue or played with their friends on the weekends. For the university club team, though, it was a way of life. They practiced twice a week in preparation for the few annual tournaments pitting them against other colleges in the area. The seasons culminated with the national championship each spring. Last year, their team came one point shy of advancing to the finals, and Ron and the rest of his teammates did not intend to let that happen again.

Ron had known Harry and Seamus for many years, having grown up together since elementary school. They had experienced an idyllic middle-class suburban childhood together, and their friendship only strengthened when they all chose the same college, then moved into an apartment together after freshman year. Even though they all had different academic pursuits, Ultimate Frisbee was the one thing that continued to connect them.

"Do either of you want to go study after practice?" Harry asked as they started making their way to the indoor practice arena. "I'm already feeling lost in physics and really need to hunker down before my Poli Sci test next week."

"Ugh, I don't feel like it at all, and I know I'll only be more exhausted after practice, but I probably should, too," Seamus said. "These architecture pre-reqs are kicking my ass. I didn't think it would get this bad until I actually started architecture school. The next two and a half years are going to suck."

"Ron?" Harry asked.

Classic Harry, always trying to do the responsible thing.

"Mondays are hard enough, and now you want to add a bunch of studying on top of it? Fuck that, dude," Ron answered, throwing a lopsided grin at his friend. "The semester just started, and I don't have another exam for a couple weeks."

"I know you're not actually understanding what's going on in our physics class. No matter how hard I study, I just can't keep up with that material," Harry answered with an exasperated groan.

"Meh," Ron replied. "It's not so bad. I was always good at physics. Don't forget, my Dad's an engineer. Physics is practically in my blood. If I need to study for anything, it's this goddamn biology class. Can you believe the fucking professor already gave us an exam? One week in and we had an exam! Intro course my ass, this shit is impossible."

Harry shook his head. "Well, perhaps it would be less impossible if you studied more instead of playing video games all the time. Come on, Ron, make your engineer father proud."

"I'll get to it," Ron replied, waving a dismissive hand at his friend. "Besides, unlike your only-child ass, I'm the sixth of seven children, Harry. My parents barely remember I exist. I'm lucky if they remember to pay my tuition. As long as I show up over summer break with passing grades, they'll be fine. Plus, I've got a few episodes of House of the Dragon to catch up on, so I'll probably do that tonight."

"Classic Weasley," Seamus said with a laugh. "Why do today what you could half-ass tomorrow?"

"See, this man gets it!" Ron exclaimed.

"Whatever," Harry scoffed. "You've got to figure it out someday, though. Have you even picked a major yet?"

"Dude, what did I just say? I'll get to it."

"You don't really have that much more time, Ron. You only have four more semesters' worth of classes to take after this one."

"I have plenty of time. I'm taking care of a bunch of my other requirements right now. By the start of my third year, I'll have everything except one more Spanish course covered. Then I can just do whatever I need to for my major."

"Which is?" Seamus asked.

"How the fuck should I know?" Ron burst out laughing.

The jokes continued throughout the rest of the walk to the practice field in the main recreation building, and by the time they showed up, most of their friends were already warming up. A few big contributors had graduated at the end of last year, but as far as Ron was concerned, that opened opportunities for him and his friends to step up and shine now that they were no longer the freshmen on the team. Coach Bagman was reviewing his notes in the corner of the gym, and Ron figured it would be good to start getting a bit of face time with him before the season started.

"Hey, Coach," Ron called as he dropped his gym bag on the bleachers. "Pumped to get going here."

"Excellent, Weasley, me too," Coach Bagman said, full of enthusiasm. "Potter, Finny, how were your holiday breaks?"

"Can't complain," Harry said. "It's good to be back, though."

"Absolutely," Seamus added. "I've been looking forward to this for months."

Coach Bagman gave a few enthusiastic claps and picked up a stack of frisbees. "Well, now's your chance, men. We need leaders on this team, and I'll be looking to you three to fill some of the void, got it?"

"Yes sir," Ron responded eagerly.

Harry pulled a frisbee out of his bag and started passing it around to his roommates in a circle. As the rest of the team filtered in, everyone started to warm up. They were all eager to see each other again and get the new season started. A few freshmen showed up, and today would serve as an unofficial tryout.

Once Coach Bagman called everyone to attention and gave a short motivational speech, they began practicing. Tearing up and down the field was an excellent way to relieve stress, and Ron managed to make a couple of flying catches that were particularly impressive. Harry and Seamus were playing well too, and the coach gave them all nods of encouragement, which only led them to play harder.

They finished with a scrimmage, after which Coach Bagman called everyone to the sidelines.

"Take a knee, take a knee," he started. "Excellent job today, men. I liked the hustle and I liked the intensity. You're already looking even better than last year's team, and they almost won the whole damn thing. Plenty of little mistakes we'll have to clean up, but I think we're off to a great start. Until the weather improves, practices will be right here every Monday and Thursday afternoon. I'll send out an email with all the details in the next day or so. Now, make sure you hydrate and have a great week. Any questions, come and find me."

As the group started to disassemble, Coach called out, "Weasley, can I have a word?"

Ron looked back at his roommates, shrugging with a relaxed grin. "Probably wants to offer me the captain position or something. I guess I'll catch you guys later."

"Fuck that, I'd rather quit than play on a team that you're the captain of," Seamus teased, punching Ron in the arm.

"Whatever, man. I'm a frisbee prodigy, you should consider yourself lucky to play with me."

Harry and Seamus nodded and collected their bags before heading out of the gym while Ron jogged over to Coach Bagman.

"Hey Coach, what's up?"

"How's the year going so far, Weasley?" Coach asked, a look of concern on his face.

Why's he just asking me? Fuck, this can't be good…

Ron shrugged, trying to act casual. "It's fine, getting back into the swing of things. You know how it is."

Coach raised an eyebrow and grimaced. "You sure about that?"

"I mean, it's tough, but I'll be okay," Ron replied, a giant lump forming in his throat.

"Here's the thing, Weasley. You're aware that you have to maintain certain academic standards to participate on this team, right?"

"Yeah, of course. But I have been."

"True, so far you're on track. But part of that is making sure your progress throughout your current classes is acceptable. I can't play someone who's actively failing a class."

It only took a moment for Ron to realize what he was talking about. Biology. Fuck, he knew he shouldn't have taken that class, it had always been a weak subject for him.

"I see. Well, I'll, uhh, really buckle down, you know? I'll make sure I study hard," Ron said, trying not to sound too defensive.

"You may not know this," the coach continued, "but I'm good friends with Professor Sprout. She's an excellent teacher, and she's always been particularly good at knowing when her students are falling behind. She sent me an email saying that you bombed the first exam pretty good."

"Yeah, she emailed me too. But I mean who gives an exam in the second week of class? It was crazy. I'm sure I'll do better once I get my feet under me."

"I'm sure you will too, but in the meantime, take this." Coach Bagman fished around in his pocket and pulled out a slip of paper.

"What's this?"

"This is the email address for a tutor. She's one of the TAs for Professor Sprout's class, and supposedly she's some kind of biology whiz. She'll be able to help you, and I think you should take her up on it. We have a chance to make it all the way this year, Ron. I genuinely believe we could win the whole thing, and I'd really like you to be a part of that. You're a good player and a great teammate. You practice hard and play even harder. I'd hate to lose you, so I really want you to consider this. For the team, if nothing else."

With a sigh, Ron glanced down at the slip of paper in his hand. Its edges were creased, but the address in the middle of the paper was as clear as day.

hgranger angell edu

"Do I have to, Coach?"

"Don't have to do anything, Weasley, but if you don't get that grade up after your next exam, I can't let you practice or play. It's just that simple."

A tutor? That would mean spending even more time studying for the class that he already found most irritating. However, Ultimate Frisbee was the thing he loved more than anything else on campus, and the thought of losing it was more devastating than the thought of dedicating extra time to biology.

Fuck.

"Fine. I'll email her," Ron answered, his shoulders slumping.

"Good decision. You're a bright guy, I'm sure you'll get that grade up. Now, I gotta run, but I'll see you on Thursday?"

"See you Thursday."

As Coach Bagman took off, Ron folded into the bleachers, burying his head in his hands. The semester had just started and he already needed a tutor. How could he have let it get this bad already?