Warning - This story is compliant only through Book 5. It contains several OC's, and has not been beta'd.
Disclaimer - Everything but my own characters and the plot belong to JK Rowlings.
The Americans:
Albus Dumbledore sat in idle thought as he waited. The students would be returning from their summer holiday tonight, but there was an extra element to his lamenting.
"Professor Dumbledore?" A husky male voice asked as he entered the Great Hall.
Dumbledore looked over his fingers that had been placed together as in contemplation to see a massive man standing in the doorway, then motioned for him to come in. "Professor Gentry, I presume?"
"Yep," the man announced with a grin and a hint of an odd American accent. Following close behind him came eight young men and woman, all 6th & 7th year students dressed smartly in black wizarding robes, not unlike the robes the students at Hogwarts wear.
"Your trip was pleasant?" Dumbledore asked making polite conversation, still eyeing the man cautiously. He was extremely large with red hair protruding in every which direction from his head. His robes were fairly new, but crumpled, and his skin was fair and freckled. Professor Gentry could have passed as a relative of the Weasley's, Professor Dumbledore thought to himself, or perhaps he was.
Professor McGonagall, Snape, Flitwick and Sprout all entered the Great Hall, rather ceremoniously, as the students were motioned to sit in chairs in front of them.
"I am Professor Dumbledore," he announced as he stood, examining the youth standing in front of him carefully. "I am the Headmaster here at Hogwarts."
All the students, who maintained a fairly serious look, nodded in unison.
"To my far left is Professor Snape, head of Slytherin House and Hogwarts Potion Master," Dumbledore continued with the introductions.
Snape nodded, yet continued to scowl as the students respectfully returned the nod. His few experiences with Americans had left him believing them all pompous and presumptuous, not to mention pretentious and lacking any form of manner or protocol.
"Professor Flitwick," Dumbledore proceeded, "Head of Ravenclaw and charms instructor, and to my right Professor McGonagall, Assistant Headmistress, Head of Gryffindor. She is the transfigurations instructor. Professor Sprout is Head of Hufflepuff, and the Herbology instructor. It is my distinct honor to welcome you to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. We are looking forward to having our American Brethren amongst us this year, and hope that we will be able to send several of our own students to the United States in the future."
"Our other students will be arriving this evening," Professor McGonagall proceeded. "But we wanted the opportunity to explain our houses and how your house would be determined. We hope to also give you an opportunity to familiarize yourself with the school a bit. Our 2nd through 7th year students will arrive first, taking their seats at their house table, and then the first years will enter to be sorted…" McGonagall seemed to explain each house in great detail, along with the four founders of Hogwarts. "We ask that once our students start arriving, you contain yourself to the antechamber to my left. After all the first years have been sorted, Professor Dumbledore will make an announcement regarding our new exchange program, and then you will be sorted into houses. Now, it has been brought to my attention that 2 of you are siblings."
Two raven-haired young ladies raised their hands.
"I must warn you now that you may not be sorted into the same house, will that be a problem? We could, perhaps…."
"No Ma'am," The two raven-haired girls interjected, "that wouldn't be a problem at all."
Dumbledore then indicated that it was time for Professor Gentry to begin his introductions.
Professor Gentry stood rather clumsily as he practically tipped his chair over as he stood. "Yes, er-um, I'm Professor Gentry, assistant Headmaster of the East Coast Academy of Witchcraft and Wizardry in Salem, Massachusetts."
"Isn't that where they conducted witch hunts?" Snape interrupted abruptly, disdain emphasized on every word.
"Well, yes Professor Snape, it is." Professor Gentry lit up with Glee. "Actually, it's rather ironic, isn't it? But it also allows us to interact with the community without being obvious or have to go under disguise since it's very much a tourist attraction."
"Americans." The announcement dripped from Snapes lips like venom.
"Anyway," Gentry continued, "the East Coast Academy is the most sought after and oldest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the United States. None finer. These students have been hand selected, they are our top students. At the end is Jacien Roald," a tall, slender black haired boy with black eyes tilted his head. His features were refined, almost like a Malfoy's, he would certainly be the object of many students desires this year. "7th year, excels in transfiguration and charms."
At the announcement of charms, the other American students, who had up until this point conducted themselves with much dignity and poise, all sniggered. It was quite apparent this young man was certainly a ladies man.
After a sharp look from their chaperone, they straightened and he continued. "Seated next to him is Ashlin Stylers, 6th year, excels in the exacting art of potions and Dark Arts." He was indicating the raven-haired girl with emerald eyes. "She also holds top scores on all her OWLS, and I feel I must warn you that she has an uncanny ability with charms."
Professor Flitwick could not suppress his joy any longer as Charms had been brought up for the second time already. "Just what types of charms?"
A look of utmost contempt swept over the American Professor's roughened features. "Ones she seems to be able to make up on the spot, and they can sometimes wreak havoc among the students."
Professor Flitwick seemed unmoved by the prior statement, and continued to address the girl directly. "Just what types of charms have you created?"
"Tell him about the wand charm, Ash." Jacien, the boy sitting next to her, started to laugh.
"Yes, yes, tell me about that one," Flitwick added.
"It was simple, really." Her voice was soft and smooth as fine silk, and her eyes flashed almost dangerously. "It was a repelling spell, and it seemed to catch on rather quickly. By afternoon, the entire student body was chasing their wands around, and unfortunately, I wasn't quite as successful coming up with a counter to it."
Professor Snape was unimpressed. He felt it his place to humble this arrogant little American. "So you feel you are good with potions, do you?" he hissed dangerously.
"I've been told so, Sir," she answered respectfully, measuring up her new potions professor.
"And just what level of potions have you attained successfully? Sleep draughts?"
"Yes Sir," she replied.
Professor Gentry just sighed his resignation. Ashlin Stylers was a force to recon with, and it seemed that Professor Snape decided to dance with danger.
"First year," Ashlin continued. "Also Dreamless sleep, healing potions, including a regenerative skin salve and Snake bite remedy, a Veritaserum, Polyjuice and Wolfbane potions. However, since I don't know any werewolves firsthand, that one was untested." She knew she had just made her life in potions class a living hell, but for the astonished look and speechlessness that befell Professor Snape, it was well worth it.
"Next to Ashlin, is her sister Tabia Stylers," Gentry continued quickly, "7th year, excels in transfiguration and Arithmomancy…" Gentry continued to introduce the remaining American students, 4 boys, 4 girls, 2 of each year. Then they were escorted around the school.
Professor Snape was saying something about the common rooms, and that the staircases move. Ashlin, her friend Jacien and Blain, another 6th year, were fascinated with the pictures. Nothing in America was as old as Hogwarts.
A searing sensation encompassed Ashlin's upper left arm, however, she felt it was probably some type of practical joke from her friends. She had noticed that Snape had flinched too, and they continued their tour down into the dungeons.
"What the hell is the matter with your hand, Ash?" Blain asked.
"Excuse me Mr. L'Orion?" Snape sneered.
"Her hand," Blain pointed, "is bleeding."
"It is not!" Ashlin insisted, but looked down to see blood dripping from her fingertips. "Or maybe it is."
"Oh for the sake of Merlin!" Snape hissed and drug the girl into the potions classroom where he unceremoniously stuck her hand under some running water. There was nothing there.
The look on the young girls face turned from shock to confusion. She slipped off her robe to notice the sleeve of her white blouse had turned bright red.
"Ms. Stylers, what in the world happened?" Snape snapped, trying to roll the bloody sleeve up to examine the arm.
Utter bewilderment encompassed her. It was obvious she had no idea.
"You, dampen me that cloth over there," Snape ordered Jacien, "and be quick about it!"
It took a good long while to clear enough of the blood away to find the source-two small puncture wounds in her upper left arm.
"It looks like a snake bite," Snape said, not really meaning to verbalize his observation.
"It is," a feeble voice answered. He looked up to find her almost ashen. She had lost a lot of blood. "But I was 2 years old when I was bitten. I have no idea why it would be bleeding now. I felt it burn a while ago, but I just thought one of you two were playing a joke, I saw you flinch too, Professor."
Snape's face fell unreadable as he finished cleaning the wound and began bandaging it with precision. "You'll need to go to the infirmary, and Professor Dumbledore needs to be informed of this."
When she got up to follow, her knee's buckled underneath her. She had lost more blood than anyone had realized. Before she could assess what had happened, the Potions teacher had picked her up and was carrying her to the infirmary.