Hermione stood before the towering building. It reminded her greatly of Hogwarts, which made her heart ache with sorrow.
She was in a foreign land, the United States of America. People who heard her speak seemed awed by her, and many people inquired why she was here. Often she was forced to make up some pathetic excuse and scurry off before anything happened.
Why was she there? That was easy; she had signed up for her first year of university abroad. The Tennessee University of Magic was among the best magical universities in the wizard world, and of course, Hermione was quickly accepted with a full scholarship.
Beyond the gates she stood outside of, students scurried about, while others were seated on benches in varying places on the grounds reading or talking, playing games or just looking about. Squinting her eyes, she could see someone hurrying down the wide stone path that led from the school to the gates. She knew they were coming for her; as a foreign student, she was to be given a tour of the campus separately from the local students, so she would be helped in understanding a different culture.
"Miss Granger, I assume!" the lady cried as she waved her wand and cast the gates open. She was short and thin, with light brown hair and a smiling face. "Welcome to the Tennessee University of Magic, we're very excited to have you here."
"I'm delighted to be here," Hermione responded politely, speaking stronger than she felt; on the inside, she was squirming nervously.
"Goodness, you're even prettier in person," the lady said in passing, taking Hermione by slight surprise. "Anyways, let's get you up to the school, the other exchange students are waiting. You're not the last to arrive, dear, so don't worry," she added when Hermione looked alarmed. "I'm Professor Thorin."
They walked up to the school together, many of the other students watching them go. Hermione tried to keep her eyes ahead. She carried with her only a small beaded bag, in which she had stored her wallet, her multiple class books, her cellphone, a book for pleasure reading, several packs of wooden pencils (she had been informed that in America, they did not use quills, which had been an odd change but no completely surprising), and a few other things she thought she would need. She had cast a simple Engorgement Charm on it a million years ago, and it remained, and the bag was still in very good shape. Her other bags had been sent to her room already, along with the beautiful tawny owl she had gotten for graduating Hogwarts, Sheila. She had been glad, very glad indeed, when she found out they still used owl post here.
Professor Thorin was silent during their short trek, but spoke up when they entered the overlarge school. She pointed to a room at the top of a large golden staircase. "The others are waiting just in that room; we've got a couple from France, a small few from Africa and Asia, and a slightly surprising number of Hogwarts students."
"How many?" Hermione inquired. She had no been aware others from her school were coming, but she was not surprised whatsoever; they all wanted to escape the terrible sorrow that still lingered over the British witches and wizards.
"About seventeen," Thorin informed her. Hermione raised her eyebrows. Perhaps she knew them, and having friends wouldn't be as much of a problem as she had anticipated.
"Here we are..." Thorin murmured, pushing open the big gilded doors. She led Hermione in. "Take a seat wherever, the others will be along shortly!" And with that, she turned and left. Hermione stared around. She saw the African students sitting in a corner, not speaking. The Asians were gathered around a large table, laughing and speaking rapidly in a language she didn't know. The French were easy to pick out, with their elegant structures and poised appearances.
The Hogwarts group came as a surprise. She recognized half of them, had actually spoken to less than that. Ernie Macmillan was there, chatting animatedly to a girl Hermione didn't know. There were a few sitting off to the side that she recognized as Ravenclaws; they made up the majority of the group with about ten students. The rest were Slytherins, which made her lip curl in disgust. She scanned them slowly, her eyes lingering for too long on the last one. The shocking white-blonde hair, the cold gray eyes, the pronounced cheeks and heavy-set jaw. Draco Malfoy, a boy she never thought she'd see again.
"Hermione!" Ernie exclaimed suddenly, earning him some glares from other students. "I didn't know you were coming here!"
"Hi, Ernie," she said weakly, making her way over to them and taking the only seat left beside him. She had managed to attract the attention of Draco, who watched her now with a slightly raised brow and a wicked smirk.
"How are you?" he asked excitedly, smiling. Before she could speak, though, he swept on. "I had no idea you'd be coming here too! Did you know that this school has the largest foreign exchange program in America? How awesome is that?"
"Pretty awesome, I'd say," a voice said from behind Hermione; she whipped around to see Draco leaning over her, the smirk even wider than before.
"Shove off, Malfoy," Ernie said with a glare; even kind (but talkative) Ernie had a thing against Draco. Hardly surprising; he gave prat a whole new meaning.
"Oh, not very friendly!" he said, clutching his chest like he was wounded. "If you don't mind, I'd like to have a chat with the lady here."
"I don't want to speak with the likes of you, Draco," Hermione retorted coldly.
"Oh, come now, don't you remember that I'm on your side now?" Draco drawled, seating himself on the arm of Hermione's chair, causing her to wrinkle her nose. "I helped out in the war, didn't I?"
"Barely, and towards the very end of it!" she hissed back.
"It was still helping!" he differed, actually sounding a little upset by her refusals. Hermione peered up at him with narrowed eyes. Why was he trying to speak with her? They'd never spoken at Hogwarts, except to exchange insults and, once, in their third year, a swift punch to his face. He smiled, the first genuine smile she'd ever seen on him; It actually makes him kind of attractive she admitted to herself grudgingly.
Wait – what was she thinking?
Before she had time to ponder on her revelation, the door swung open and Professor Thorin returned, with three girls standing behind her, the final exchange students.
After ushering the girls inside and they went to go sit with the Beauxbatons girls, some squealing, Thorin clapped her hands and smiled. "Hello, you all! Now that we're all here, we can really get started! I want to say welcome again to our humble school, and I hope you all are prepared for a year of learning and fun!" Her grin widened. "Now let's get on with that tour, shall we?"
Hermione sat down slowly on her bed, her mouth creased slightly. Her first day had gone well; they had been introduced to all the professors and they all seemed likable enough. She had asked many questions along with tour, to the joy of Thorin and the annoyance of everyone else.
Her roommate, an American witch named June, had gone to take a shower in the co-ed (shocking!) bathroom down the hall, leaving Hermione to her thoughts.
Tap! Tap! A familiar elegant barn owl was hitting his beak lightly on her window, a letter attached to his clawed feet. Excited, she hurried to the window and pushed it open to allow Olly inside.
"Harry's sent a letter already, has he?" Hermione said, smiling. She took the letter, gave Olly a treat, and watched him fly out the window before ripping the envelope open and reading Harry's words hungrily.
Dear Hermione,
Hello! It's quite early here. How is America treating you? Is there an overabundance of overweight people waddling around? People asking you about your accent? I hear some Americans are very into everything British, it's flattering and creepy at the same time.
Ron and I have been at the university here in London for only an hour and already people have been bugging us about the war. I mean, it happened only a few months ago, can't they learn about it from someone else? We've already had a few girls at our door trying to get in, but we always turn 'em away (though it's not a surprise that they come, we are pretty dang attractive). Ginny's supposed to come visit us over Christmas, which is an unbearably long time away.
I don't really have a whole lot of time to write tonight, but I'm having Olly send this to you as fast as possible!
You're coming back for Christmas too, right? You'd better!
See you then,
Harry
Hermione smiled as she folded the letter and placed it in a small drawer in one of the two desks the college provided in dorm rooms.
"Hermione!" someone yelled outside the doors. "It's June, I forgot my key!" Snorting, Hermione got up and unlocked and opened the door to reveal a towel-covered June with dripping hair.
"Thanks," June sighed as she walked in past her. "I was getting some funky looks out there."
"I'll bet," Hermione laughed. "You should have taken some clothes with you."
"I would've used Accio, til I remembered that you would have the door shut, and by then I was already in the shower," she explained. "That's what I did at home." Hermione had a picture of a girl's clothing set flying down the hall and smiled.
"Where's home?" Hermione inquired, curling her legs as she sat on her bed. She closed her eyes to give June privacy to change into her Pjs.
"I'm from Georgia," June told her, rummaging in one of her dresser drawers. "Woodstock, to be exact."
"That would explain the slight accent," Hermione teased.
"You're one to talk, Britain!" June giggled. "You can open your eyes." Hermione obeyed and glanced at June's Pjs: red short-shorts and an overlarge red and white jersey. June's blonde hair was tied into a braid that hung down below her chest, still dripping at the end.
"Who's jersey is that?" Hermione asked; she worried briefly June might tire of her questions.
"My boyfriend's," she said with a smile. "Or, it was. He's a Muggle, this is his old football jersey. American football, not British," she added as an afterthought. "He gave it to me to sleep in when I was here."
"That's sweet," Hermione purred. "Does he know...?"
"Yes," June sighed. "He was very accepting. We've been dating for three years. What about you? Have you got a boyfriend?"
Hermione pondered this. She and Harry had dated briefly in their fourth year, but broke it off at the end of it. Ron had kissed her in their fifth year, and Dean Thomas had asked her out at the end of their sixth year, after he and Ginny broke up.
"No," she said after a moment.
"What about that hot blonde guy I saw you speaking with earlier?" June questioned. "I saw you when you were on your tour, and you were talking to a guy." Hermione nearly choked.
"Draco?" she gasped, her eyes watering. "Merlin, no. We weren't speaking, we were arguing." They had been, truly.
"Do you ever stop with the constant flow of questions?" he had asked her teasingly. She had frowned deeply at him.
"Is it so wrong that I'm curious about the place I'll be spending the next year in?" she had replied cooly, curling her lip at him. He had smirked back, his silver eyes flashing.
"No, but there's this incessant flow of words coming from your mouth way too often and it's quite annoying for some," he'd responded, with a gasp from her. It had continued on like that for nearly five minutes before Thorin told them to "shut up and pay attention."
"Huh," June said, shrugging and throwing herself onto her bed. "Well that's a shame. He was a beauty." Hermione nearly gagged.