Across The Sands Of Time

Hermione Granger looked at the letter. She was going to Egypt! She was going to be an exchange student at the magical school, Gypticians, there. In exchange, Hogwarts would have a different student, from Egypt.

"Ehemm!" Professor McGonagall cleared her throat. "Yes, I realize you are happy, Miss Granger, but, you will STILL be required to do OWLs at the end of the year."

"Yes, Professor," said Hermione.

*****

Hermione was nervous. Professor McGonagall set her up at a station, where she would hyper-apparate. Of course, Hermione had read all about it. At a set time, she would be brought to Egypt immediatly. It was called hyper-apparating, because, it could bring one across continents.

All of a sudden, Hermione felt dizzy. SMACK!

"Oww..." moaned Hermione. She had slammed headfirst into the sand. Luckily, it was sandy, so it didn't hurt too much.

Hermione picked up her bags.

"My gosh, it's hot," Hermione complained. "Where am I?"

"Hello," came a voice from behind her.

Hermione whirled around to find a wizard dressed up in robes, one around his head. He had dark hair and dark eyes.

"You are the transfer student?"

Hermione nodded.

" 'Ello," he said. "I am Professor Prokkofief. I am the Gypticians headmaster. I welcome you."

"Hello," said Hermione. "I'm Hermione Granger."

"Zat you are," he said. "I will see you to the school."

He grabbed her hand and apparated

"You see, unlike 'Ogwarts, we can apparate on grounds. Any muggle who sees our school believes it is a mirage."

Hermione gasped. The school looked like a castle, like Hogwarts, but it was made out of sand! Little flags on top said 'Gypticians'.

"Impressive, is it not?" said Professor Prokkofief.

"Yeah," Hermione breathed.

"Mala!" Professor Prokkofief barked, making his voice so loud that practically the whole school could hear. A girl Hermione's age ran out. She too had dark hair, and dark eyes.

"Oh, hello! Herm-e-nee, right?" she asked.

"Yeah," said Hermione, thinking "Close enough."

"I will see you to the domitories," she said.

They went inside.

"Don't expect to do sight-seeing while you're here," Mala said sharply. "And do not expect for me to look after you while you are here! I have my own studies to tend to. And you can't bring in that loud music Americans listen to, either!"

"I-I'm English," said Hermione.

"Is there a difference?!" asked Mala.

"Yes."

"Do not talk to me in such manner! I am a prefect!"

"I am too, back at Hogwarts," said Hermione.

"I sense a bad aura around you," said Mala.

"I think your mistaking mine for my friend's, Ron Weasley," said Hermione, getting angry.

"Friends of bad people also are!" exclaimed Mala. "Here, we bow to prefects! In a literal sense! I am speaking English for you, you could give me some respect!"

"I'm being nice to you, I could use some respect too!" said Hermione.

"Do not talk to me like that! We are here," Mala said, arriving at a portrait. "Sands of Time."

"What are the Sands of Time?" asked Hermione.

"Read a book!" Mala snapped. "The library is on the third floor, wing two. If you wish to know, read!"

"I read alot!" exclaimed Hermione, following Mala into the room with her bags. There was no common room, just beds. Rows and rows of them. There were probably 100 of them.

"There!" shouted Mala. "All the girls sleep here. Do not litter, or get your British filth on things."

"It isn't filth!" Hermione shouted.

"30 points from the Girls side!" shouted Mala. "I have taken a disliking to you."

Hermione sighed. A whole semester here?