A/N: Okay everyone! This is actually a repost of Chapter 1, I wanted to
make some minor changes. . . nothing big, a few small dialogue changes and
it's good! I don't own Harry Potter, and I don't know anything about New
York, I just love the city and wanted a character from it. But Jess is
mine. . . don't take her, please! Please R/R, whether you like it or hate
it or whatever. . . just let me know you read it! Thanks a ton!
Sammy Solo
"Once again, scorching hot temps have covered New York City and her surrounding suburbs. If ya gotta be out in it, be careful, and don't forget that sunscreen!"
The voice blaring from the radio confirmed what the residents of New York City already knew: it was hot. As a die hard New Yorker and a patron of the chessboards in Washington Square Park, Jessica Gabriel had hoped that the record-shattering temperatures would keep most of the tourists away from the games. Glancing at her opponent, Jess noted just how wrong she was.
Jess sighed and reached into the bag of peanuts sitting on the table, breaking a shell and popping the nut into her mouth. 'Ya know, I really should rethink my philosophy,' she thought, checking her watch. 'I've been waiting for her to move for five minutes!'
Being an adamant chess player, Jess had always kept one rule at heart: never turn down a challenge. So when this girl, speaking in a British accent and standing out like an Atlanta Braves fan at a New York Mets game, had approached her and asked for a match, Jess had obeyed her own precedent and accepted. As she continued to wait for the girl to make her next move, Jess began to regret ever making that stupid rule.
As she surveyed the girl seated across from her, looking for any sign that she might make a move soon, Jess realized that she and this girl probably shared only two similarities: they were about the same age, and they were both girls. Otherwise, Jess and her opponent couldn't have been more different.
Jess sat cross-legged on the stone bench on her side of the board, her baggy jean shorts nearly touching her knees. Her dark blue T-shirt, blazoning the single word "Chevelle", rippled in the light breeze. She wore sunglasses low on the bridge of her nose, protecting her eyes but also allowing her to study the board without interference. Topping off her outfit, a New York Mets hat rode on her head, her long, dirty blonde ponytail hanging out the back.
In sharp contrast, the girl sitting across from Jess wore her long, crimped, brown hair down, so that it covered most of the back of her long- sleeved white shirt. A pair of flared blue jeans completed her outfit. 'I wonder if she's noticed how hot it is out here,' Jess thought.
Finally, the girl made her move. It was exactly what Jess had thought she was going to do. Confirming the thought with a quick flash of her piercing blue eyes, Jess reached across the board and captured her opponent's queen, adding it to the collection of white pieces sitting next to the board.
"No offense," Jess said, breaking open another peanut. "But you really suck at chess."
Her opponent chuckled lightly, searching the board for her next move. "No offense taken," she said, once again surprising Jess with her accent. "I know I'm not very good."
"Then why do ya play?" Jess asked, taking a swig of cold Pepsi to wash the salty peanut down.
"I don't usually," the girl replied. "But who could pass up an opportunity to play in Washington Square Park?"
Jess rolled her eyes. 'Tourists. They're all clueless.'
Finally giving up her search for a move that wouldn't cost her a piece, Jess's opponent sighed and pushed a pawn. Of all the moves on the board, she had made the worst one. Smiling, Jess moved in for the kill. She captured the last white pawn on the board with her queen, triumphantly announcing, "Checkmate!"
Her opponent looked stunned. "I didn't see that coming," she said.
"Yeah, that was the idea," Jess replied, smiling and standing to stretch. Obviously disappointed but accepting her defeat, the girl stood and grabbed for her small purse. Instead of picking it up, though, she knocked it off the table, spilling its contents onto the concrete.
Suppressing the urge to laugh, Jess bent down to help the girl collect her things. Lip gloss, a small mirror, a. . .
"What's this?" Jess asked, holding up what looked like a bent stick.
"Oh. N-Nothing," the girl stammered, snatching the stick out of Jess's hand and shoving it into her bag. "Well, thanks for the game," she said quickly and, suddenly in a hurry, turned and strode off through the park. As Jess watched her go, a thought jumped into her head. 'Hey, was that a. . .?'
"Wait!" Jess called, jogging to catch up to the girl. Jess grabbed her arm and spun her around, staring into her brown eyes. "Was that a wand?" she whispered.
The girl's eyes widened. "How do you know about that?" she asked. "Are you a. . ."
"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this in the middle of Washington Square," Jess interrupted her, glancing around warily. "C'mon, I know where we can go."
"So, where's your proof?" the British girl asked suspiciously. "How do I know this isn't some kind of trick?"
The two girls were now seated in a small diner a few blocks from the park. Though not the best place to eat, the restaurant had two advantages: it was air-conditioned, and it was private.
In response to the girl's question, Jess reached into the back pocket of her shorts and pulled out a simple-looking stick. "Oak, ten inches, dragon's heartstring in the core."
The girl nodded, satisfied but still looking dazed. "Mine's pine, nine inches, dragon heartstring. Wow, what a coincidence. The first American I meet is also a witch. I'm Hermione by the way, Hermione Granger."
"Jessica Gabriel. Did you come all the way from England to play chess?"
"Well, not just that. My parents and I are on holiday here, just for a week. Today's actually our last day. My parents had a few last minute things to do, so I went out on my own for a bit."
"Slow down," Jess said, frowning. "What do ya mean 'on holiday'? How can you be on a holiday?"
"On a vacation. We call it holiday," Hermione explained. "Anyway, is there a wizarding school here in the States? I've never heard of one, nor read about it."
"Yeah, there's actually one on each coast, and one in the South. I go to the one in Salem," Jess replied, chuckling. "Go figure. Centuries ago, they were burnin' us there. Now, they're teachin' us. So, what's school like in Britain?"
"Well," Hermione began. "There are four houses in the school, and in your first year you are sorted into one of them. Then, for the rest of your time at the school, you stay in that house. You live with the other members of the house, have classes with them, stuff like that. There are loads of classes to take; it's so hard to choose! How about at your school?"
"Ours works more like a regular high school. We don't have houses, just everyone in classes together according to their year." She shrugged. "I guess Salem is smaller than your school."
"There's probably less rivalry among students that way," Hermione said. "I guess you don't have a Quidditch league, though?"
"Oh yeah!"
"Well, if you don't have houses, who do the teams play?"
"We get one team per school," Jess explained. "You have to be a third year to play. Tryouts are really intense, but if you make the team, it's totally worth it."
"Do you play?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, I made the team this year. I'm a chaser. Anyway, once we have all the players, Salem's team will go and play the others from the US. There's also a school in Canada with a team, so there ends up bein' four teams in a league."
"So where do the teams play?" Hermione asked.
"It rotates," Jess continued. "The teams use floo powder to get to each other's schools."
"How do the fans at the school see the game if it's not at home?"
Jess sighed. She was getting tired of being asked questions. "There are four dorms on the grounds: one for first through fourth year boys, another for fifth through eighth year boys, and the same for the girls. In every dorm's common room, there's a huge, floor-to-ceiling fireplace. With a simple spell cast by a teacher, the fireplace works just like a TV. All the students in the dorm can watch the game if they want to. And it's pretty much the same at the other schools too."
"Wow," Hermione said. "It's so different from Hogwarts."
"What's a Hogwarts?" Jess asked.
"Hogwarts," Hermione corrected. "The name of my wizarding school."
"Oh. Well, what's so different about it?" Jess inquired, glad to be able to ask the questions instead of answer them.
"There are only seven years at Hogwarts," Hermione said. "Each house has a Quidditch team, so all the students can see the game if they want to. What year are you going into at your school?"
"Fourth," Jess replied. "You?"
"Third," Hermione said. "What sorts of classes can you take in Salem?"
Before Jess could answer, the door to the diner swung open and a man's voice called out, "Hermione!" The two girls turned to see a pair of adults walking towards them.
"Where have you been?" the woman asked. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"
"Sorry, I got a bit hung up," Hermione said. "Mum, Dad, this is Jess. She's also a witch."
Judging from their reactions, Jess immediately knew that both of Hermione's parents were muggles. Her mom's mouth dropped open a few inches, but her dad managed to compose himself a little better.
"Oh. . .well, I. . .uh," he stammered. "I never realized that there was. . .magic in other parts of the world as well." Seeming to come to his senses a little, he reached out and shook Jess's hand. Hermione's mother took his lead and did the same, then turned to her daughter.
"Our plane leaves in a few hours. We really need to get going," she said.
Hermione reached into her purse, pulled out a pen and a piece of paper, and scribbled something down. "This is my address," she explained to Jess. "You can send international owls, right?"
"Yeah," Jess said.
"Keep in touch." Hermione handed her the paper and flashed a smile. "It was very nice meeting you."
"Yeah, you too," Jess responded. The three Brits walked out of the diner.
'Wow,' Jess thought. 'What a day'.
Sammy Solo
"Once again, scorching hot temps have covered New York City and her surrounding suburbs. If ya gotta be out in it, be careful, and don't forget that sunscreen!"
The voice blaring from the radio confirmed what the residents of New York City already knew: it was hot. As a die hard New Yorker and a patron of the chessboards in Washington Square Park, Jessica Gabriel had hoped that the record-shattering temperatures would keep most of the tourists away from the games. Glancing at her opponent, Jess noted just how wrong she was.
Jess sighed and reached into the bag of peanuts sitting on the table, breaking a shell and popping the nut into her mouth. 'Ya know, I really should rethink my philosophy,' she thought, checking her watch. 'I've been waiting for her to move for five minutes!'
Being an adamant chess player, Jess had always kept one rule at heart: never turn down a challenge. So when this girl, speaking in a British accent and standing out like an Atlanta Braves fan at a New York Mets game, had approached her and asked for a match, Jess had obeyed her own precedent and accepted. As she continued to wait for the girl to make her next move, Jess began to regret ever making that stupid rule.
As she surveyed the girl seated across from her, looking for any sign that she might make a move soon, Jess realized that she and this girl probably shared only two similarities: they were about the same age, and they were both girls. Otherwise, Jess and her opponent couldn't have been more different.
Jess sat cross-legged on the stone bench on her side of the board, her baggy jean shorts nearly touching her knees. Her dark blue T-shirt, blazoning the single word "Chevelle", rippled in the light breeze. She wore sunglasses low on the bridge of her nose, protecting her eyes but also allowing her to study the board without interference. Topping off her outfit, a New York Mets hat rode on her head, her long, dirty blonde ponytail hanging out the back.
In sharp contrast, the girl sitting across from Jess wore her long, crimped, brown hair down, so that it covered most of the back of her long- sleeved white shirt. A pair of flared blue jeans completed her outfit. 'I wonder if she's noticed how hot it is out here,' Jess thought.
Finally, the girl made her move. It was exactly what Jess had thought she was going to do. Confirming the thought with a quick flash of her piercing blue eyes, Jess reached across the board and captured her opponent's queen, adding it to the collection of white pieces sitting next to the board.
"No offense," Jess said, breaking open another peanut. "But you really suck at chess."
Her opponent chuckled lightly, searching the board for her next move. "No offense taken," she said, once again surprising Jess with her accent. "I know I'm not very good."
"Then why do ya play?" Jess asked, taking a swig of cold Pepsi to wash the salty peanut down.
"I don't usually," the girl replied. "But who could pass up an opportunity to play in Washington Square Park?"
Jess rolled her eyes. 'Tourists. They're all clueless.'
Finally giving up her search for a move that wouldn't cost her a piece, Jess's opponent sighed and pushed a pawn. Of all the moves on the board, she had made the worst one. Smiling, Jess moved in for the kill. She captured the last white pawn on the board with her queen, triumphantly announcing, "Checkmate!"
Her opponent looked stunned. "I didn't see that coming," she said.
"Yeah, that was the idea," Jess replied, smiling and standing to stretch. Obviously disappointed but accepting her defeat, the girl stood and grabbed for her small purse. Instead of picking it up, though, she knocked it off the table, spilling its contents onto the concrete.
Suppressing the urge to laugh, Jess bent down to help the girl collect her things. Lip gloss, a small mirror, a. . .
"What's this?" Jess asked, holding up what looked like a bent stick.
"Oh. N-Nothing," the girl stammered, snatching the stick out of Jess's hand and shoving it into her bag. "Well, thanks for the game," she said quickly and, suddenly in a hurry, turned and strode off through the park. As Jess watched her go, a thought jumped into her head. 'Hey, was that a. . .?'
"Wait!" Jess called, jogging to catch up to the girl. Jess grabbed her arm and spun her around, staring into her brown eyes. "Was that a wand?" she whispered.
The girl's eyes widened. "How do you know about that?" she asked. "Are you a. . ."
"Maybe we shouldn't talk about this in the middle of Washington Square," Jess interrupted her, glancing around warily. "C'mon, I know where we can go."
"So, where's your proof?" the British girl asked suspiciously. "How do I know this isn't some kind of trick?"
The two girls were now seated in a small diner a few blocks from the park. Though not the best place to eat, the restaurant had two advantages: it was air-conditioned, and it was private.
In response to the girl's question, Jess reached into the back pocket of her shorts and pulled out a simple-looking stick. "Oak, ten inches, dragon's heartstring in the core."
The girl nodded, satisfied but still looking dazed. "Mine's pine, nine inches, dragon heartstring. Wow, what a coincidence. The first American I meet is also a witch. I'm Hermione by the way, Hermione Granger."
"Jessica Gabriel. Did you come all the way from England to play chess?"
"Well, not just that. My parents and I are on holiday here, just for a week. Today's actually our last day. My parents had a few last minute things to do, so I went out on my own for a bit."
"Slow down," Jess said, frowning. "What do ya mean 'on holiday'? How can you be on a holiday?"
"On a vacation. We call it holiday," Hermione explained. "Anyway, is there a wizarding school here in the States? I've never heard of one, nor read about it."
"Yeah, there's actually one on each coast, and one in the South. I go to the one in Salem," Jess replied, chuckling. "Go figure. Centuries ago, they were burnin' us there. Now, they're teachin' us. So, what's school like in Britain?"
"Well," Hermione began. "There are four houses in the school, and in your first year you are sorted into one of them. Then, for the rest of your time at the school, you stay in that house. You live with the other members of the house, have classes with them, stuff like that. There are loads of classes to take; it's so hard to choose! How about at your school?"
"Ours works more like a regular high school. We don't have houses, just everyone in classes together according to their year." She shrugged. "I guess Salem is smaller than your school."
"There's probably less rivalry among students that way," Hermione said. "I guess you don't have a Quidditch league, though?"
"Oh yeah!"
"Well, if you don't have houses, who do the teams play?"
"We get one team per school," Jess explained. "You have to be a third year to play. Tryouts are really intense, but if you make the team, it's totally worth it."
"Do you play?" Hermione asked.
"Yeah, I made the team this year. I'm a chaser. Anyway, once we have all the players, Salem's team will go and play the others from the US. There's also a school in Canada with a team, so there ends up bein' four teams in a league."
"So where do the teams play?" Hermione asked.
"It rotates," Jess continued. "The teams use floo powder to get to each other's schools."
"How do the fans at the school see the game if it's not at home?"
Jess sighed. She was getting tired of being asked questions. "There are four dorms on the grounds: one for first through fourth year boys, another for fifth through eighth year boys, and the same for the girls. In every dorm's common room, there's a huge, floor-to-ceiling fireplace. With a simple spell cast by a teacher, the fireplace works just like a TV. All the students in the dorm can watch the game if they want to. And it's pretty much the same at the other schools too."
"Wow," Hermione said. "It's so different from Hogwarts."
"What's a Hogwarts?" Jess asked.
"Hogwarts," Hermione corrected. "The name of my wizarding school."
"Oh. Well, what's so different about it?" Jess inquired, glad to be able to ask the questions instead of answer them.
"There are only seven years at Hogwarts," Hermione said. "Each house has a Quidditch team, so all the students can see the game if they want to. What year are you going into at your school?"
"Fourth," Jess replied. "You?"
"Third," Hermione said. "What sorts of classes can you take in Salem?"
Before Jess could answer, the door to the diner swung open and a man's voice called out, "Hermione!" The two girls turned to see a pair of adults walking towards them.
"Where have you been?" the woman asked. "We've been looking everywhere for you!"
"Sorry, I got a bit hung up," Hermione said. "Mum, Dad, this is Jess. She's also a witch."
Judging from their reactions, Jess immediately knew that both of Hermione's parents were muggles. Her mom's mouth dropped open a few inches, but her dad managed to compose himself a little better.
"Oh. . .well, I. . .uh," he stammered. "I never realized that there was. . .magic in other parts of the world as well." Seeming to come to his senses a little, he reached out and shook Jess's hand. Hermione's mother took his lead and did the same, then turned to her daughter.
"Our plane leaves in a few hours. We really need to get going," she said.
Hermione reached into her purse, pulled out a pen and a piece of paper, and scribbled something down. "This is my address," she explained to Jess. "You can send international owls, right?"
"Yeah," Jess said.
"Keep in touch." Hermione handed her the paper and flashed a smile. "It was very nice meeting you."
"Yeah, you too," Jess responded. The three Brits walked out of the diner.
'Wow,' Jess thought. 'What a day'.