denizen[d ɛn ɪzən] n.
An inhabitant; occupant; resident
(Government, Politics & Diplomacy) Brit; an individual permanently resident in a foreign country where he enjoys certain rights of citizenship
(Life Sciences & Allied Applications / Biology) anything adapted to a new place, condition, etc., as an animal or plant not indigenous to a place but successfully naturalized.
(Linguistics) a naturalized foreign word
June, 1999
"So does this mean you've finally decided? There's no changing your mind about it?" Hermione Granger looked at her friend from out of the corner of her eye. "I'm sure you can get work that pays well even if you don't finish NEWT level at Hogwarts. I mean—you're Harry Potter for crying out loud. People will probably be begging you to work for them."
Harry Potter traced his forefinger around the rim of his cup of coffee, absent-mindedly.
It was after three o'clock in the afternoon and the street outside the café window was busy with cars, crawling past the business district of downtown London, congested with people of all ages who were hurriedly striding toward their destinations, unmindful of the presence of two people in their midst, who were about as different from them as mandrakes were from the average harmful fern.
But I would want to deserve any job I'm being offered, Hermione," Harry reasoned out in a matter-of-fact voice. "Most of the jobs that the Minister is making me consider require that I finish the NEWT level at Hogwarts."
A waiter approached their table and refilled Hermione's cup of coffee with a flourish and a whispered offer of further assistance, which Harry declined with a tight-lipped smile. Hermione forked a hefty serving of waffles from the plate in the middle of the table to the smaller plate right in front of her with a distracted air.
"I still think you should reconsider, Harry. I mean, for one thing, do you really want to work for the Ministry after all the things that they did to you?"
"The Ministry of Magic is different now. Shacklebolt has already started his reforms as Minister by whipping the people working there into shape. So if I'm going to accept the offer to work with them, I should really start thinking about improving myself, like finishing my magical education for starters. You, of all people, ought to understand," Harry toyed with the pot of sugar cubes by poking its contents with his spoon.
Since he got the first few job offers, he had already begun thinking about returning to school to finish his education. He had already written letters to the present Headmistress of Hogwarts, Minerva McGonagall, expressing his desire to return for his NEWT year. In actuality, he had already formulated a decision to finish his schooling even before he set this meeting with one of his two best friends. And Hermione's doubts about his returning to Hogwarts weren't going to change anything.
"Well, it's your call, really," Hermione said. There was a still a hint of uncertainty in her voice, but Harry knew that Hermione meant it, leaving the ultimate decision of returning to Hogwarts to him.
"OK, what are you so worried about anyway?" Harry asked with a sly smile at his long-time friend.
Harry placed his hands with his palms against the light green silk table cloth of their little booth, separated from the other tables by polished oak dividers with quaint lamps on top that gave off a faint yellow glow. The early afternoon patrons of the café kept their conversations to a tolerable buzz, so that the light jazz music could be heard in-between the occasional laughter and tinkle of cutlery. Harry looked around momentarily at the people he didn't know around the café, but his gaze fell on his friend again.
With a hint of a teasing smile he said, "I'm now of age, Hermione, and I think it's already established that I can take care of myself. So you need not worry about me being bullied in school."
Hermione shook her head with a wry smile. "I'm just anxious, I guess. With hindsight, I should have poked and prodded you to come back to school at the same time as me if I had known you were hell bent on getting your NEWTs. It's just that—without Ron and me there, who's going to watch out for your back, Potter?"
"You knew why I couldn't come back to Hogwarts when you did, 'Mione. Besides the school wasn't even properly open when you came back to get your NEWTs! But yeah, it is going to be weird to be back in school without you and Ron, but I think I'll manage," Harry joked back, hooking his forefinger around the handle of his coffee cup and bringing the cup to his lips for a long, languorous sip.
"Have you told Ron already?"
Harry set the cup down on its matching saucer and cleared his throat, stalling for time. "Actually… no, I haven't told him yet. Isn't he supposed to be really busy with the joke shop nowadays?" The bell hanging by the door tinkled and a group of boisterous teenagers entered with high fives and loud laughter among themselves, catching both Harry and Hermione's attentions for a split second.
"He's kind of busy helping George take care of things in the business, but I'm sure he would want to hear about your decision to return to school," Hermione replied with a wistful smile. She met her friend's clear, emerald green eyes and jerked her head towards the noisy group of newcomers. "Brings back a lot of memories, don't you think? We used to be ten times noisier during breakfast in the Great Hall or Hogsmeade weekends in the Three Broomsticks."
A smile broadened on Harry's face, and he nodded his assent. "Tell me about it. By the way, have you heard from any of the others?"
"Neville is taking his apprenticeship under Professor Sprout at Hogwarts, which means you'll get to see a lot of him while you're there. Dean—is working in Moscow for Gringotts as an auctioneer. I think he's been there for around four months now. Seamus…hmmm, I believe he's somewhere in Cape Town. He used to be a regular correspondent of Ron's, but he may have gotten busy with work lately. You will be glad to know that Luna is also considering going back to Hogwarts and repeating her sixth year. And you know that Ginny's going to be there, too," Hermione ticked off while spreading a generous amount of jam on her waffle slice.
"Since a whole horde of the old gang is going to be there at Hogwarts with me, there really is no need for you to worry." Harry turned his head to gaze out of the window, overlooking the street and distractedly scratched his right earlobe.
The two fell silent as they watched the different scenes unfold on the other side of the café window. Harry could tell that Hermione had fallen silent because she was trying to weigh her next words. "I know," Hermione finally replied, apprehension still tainting her tone. "But I guess worrying about you has become such a deep-seated routine, that it's difficult now to kick the habit."
The green-eyed boy cast his eyes downward, unwilling to meet his friend's eyes. They had already been through quite a lot in the course of their friendship, and he had not yet forgotten the sacrifices that Hermione had made to help him get through the worst of the war. Sometimes, Harry still blamed himself that he had been forced to share the weight of his cross with his friends, that they, too, experienced a dysfunctional adolescence because of him. Harry closed his hands into hard fists on his lap. He didn't know if he was supposed to say anything more to reassure Hermione or if he should apologize for the nth time for the continuing trauma he knew his friends were still suffering.
"Hermione— "
"Just promise me you'll stay out of trouble."
"I promise. What about you? When are you leaving?"
Hermione had received an offer to study in the Salem Witches' Institute for a Fellowship double degree in Ancient Runes and Arithmancy. She was offered a three-year scholarship that was admittedly very hard to resist. Even Ron could tell that dissuading her was going to be a lost cause, which was probably the reason why Ron had decided to become a slave to his work in the joke shop—to keep from feeling miserable about Hermione's impending departure.
"In two weeks. But mind you, my being in the States is not supposed to deter you from writing to me regularly," she threatened.
"I'll write often, OK?"
A warm hand grabbed hold of Harry's, which he had already placed on the table between them, and clutched it as a drowning man would clutch at a lifeline. "I'm glad that you're moving on, Harry. And this is only the beginning of bigger and better things for us," Hermione assured him.
I hope so, Hermione. I sure hope so, Harry said inwardly.
