I forgot to mention previously that this story completely disregards the epilogue in Deathly Hollows. Also Marie Laveau was a real figure from New Orleans history and the places included can be found in the area. She is not my original creation.
Darcantel Bound
Thankful she had a free weekend, Ginny turned in early after the game against the Wimbourne Wasps. The Quidditch game took its toll and by the time she apparated back to her house on the outskirts of Hogsmeade she was exhausted. Playing Quidditch for the Holyhead Harpies came with a few perks, one of which was a fat paycheck. Two years ago Ginny purchased the Shrieking Shack and started renovations. She loved the feel of Hogsmeade and the proximity to her old school. She enjoyed watching the students mill about the town on weekends, not to mention it put her nearer to Hermione.
Since her failed relationship with Harry, Hermione had been Ginny's only comfort. Her Quidditch schedule kept her away for most of the season, but on free weekends she often shared a drink with her best friend at The Three Broomsticks. Hermione helped quell the all-consuming loneliness a life on the road caused. Ginny never found time to meet anyone because Quidditch practice and games kept her constantly busy. She relied on those few days a year with her best friend to fill the void. Tomorrow Hermione was leaving for an entire year. They made plans to meet Madam Rosmerta and Aberforth for a last celebratory Firewhisky before she left for the Ministry, but this hardly seemed like a proper send off. Ginny sat on her sofa holding a cup of tea and mulling over the plans for the pathetic farewell party, when she heard a scraping sound on her cobblestone patio.
Noticing a flicker of movement out of the living room window, Ginny quickly looked to her left. She rose quietly from the couch. Clutching her wand beneath her soiled Quidditch robes, she nimbly crossed the hardwood floor to the back door. She opened the door quietly and jabbed her wand into the back of the intruder. Ginny never truly lost that cautious edge caused by years of fighting Voldemort. In fact she firmly believed in the motto "curse now, ask questions later" especially concerning strangers on her porch in the dead of night.
"Who are you and what do you want?" Ginny hissed into the stranger's ear.
Hermione felt the wand in her back and grinned a little despite her tears. Typical Ginny, she thought, always ready to curse a friend that shows up unexpectedly. She was still clutching her trunk when she said with a hint of a chuckle, "Why is it that you always try to blast my spleen clear out of my body when I turn up?"
Ginny smirked, it was just Hermione. "Like you really need your spleen, I aim for the most useless organs. I want to maim not kill," she said jokingly as her friend turned to look at her. The grin that formed upon hearing Hermione's voice faltered as she looked into her tear stained face. "Hermione what the hell happened?" Ginny took her friend's hand and led her into the house. "You sit right here and I'll be back with a drink. You look like you might need one," she said as she hurried into the kitchen.
Hermione felt her heart lighten as soon as she sat down on Ginny's couch. She loved the home Ginny built for herself. In a short period of time her friend transformed the Shrieking Shack from the stuff of nightmares into a cozy domestic escape. Hermione ran a foot over the newly installed hardwood floors. She remembered a time when the house was coated in dust and rotting. Ginny also replaced the crumbling patio with new cobblestones, which Hermione was sure had alerted her friend to her arrival. The blasted trunk was so heavy she had to drag it to the front door. Settling in more comfortably Hermione gazed up at the ceiling. Ginny knocked out the entire second floor above the den creating a high vaulted ceiling complete with a skylight. She absolutely loved this room. It made her feel at home. Ginny even placed large bookcases flanking the hearth, filled with books of every kind. The den allowed a restricted view of the kitchen via a low wooden archway, and Hermione could just make out Ginny's hands fiddling with something at the bar. As she admired the open staircase leading to the upstairs bedrooms, her friend reappeared. She was carrying two glasses filled halfway with deep amber liquid.
"Firewhisky, Gin? Never one for subtlety," Hermione stated matter-of-factly. Observing her friend's renovations and the mere presence of the other woman calmed her nerves. She had managed to stop crying completely in the few minutes that Ginny disappeared into the kitchen. "I see you're filthy again. Do you ever bathe?" she asked noticing for the first time Ginny's dirty robes.
Ginny smiled at her friend and handed her a glass. "You looked to be in need of something strong, and yes I do bathe. I just know how much you love my stench," she quipped in response to Hermione's insult. "As much as I love your intelligent banter, I'm curious as to your sudden appearance. I thought you'd be spending tonight with Ron," Ginny stated while taking a sip from her glass.
"We had an argument. I've been a bit of a coward about telling him of the new job. A bit might be under exaggerating it actually, I put it off until tonight and he completely flipped out," Hermione said cupping her glass with both hands and staring pointedly at the floor.
"Merlin Hermione that wasn't exactly a fair thing to do to the poor bastard! You know his temper is on a hair-trigger. No wonder he freaked out," Ginny couldn't hide the shock in her voice.
Hermione's eyes welled up with tears and she sniffed, "I know it was wrong but it was the only way I could face him. I was so afraid he'd convince me to stay if we had a real discussion. I really want this job and he's just so damn convincing when he has time to prepare. I'm such a bleeding heart; he would have had a ring on me before the argument was over. I've felt trapped for so long; I can't risk getting involved any further."
"Aw, Hermione don't cry. I'm useless when you cry." Ginny murmured softly, taking the glass away from her friend and placing her hands on Hermione's. She squeezed Hermione's hands gently and asked, "So is it over? Do I need to go comfort my hopeless brother after you leave tomorrow?"
"I…I think it is," Hermione choked out the few words. "I can't believe it's over. I know it hasn't been great the past couple of months, but I love your brother Gin," she whispered tears streaming down her face. "I always will."
Ginny repositioned herself closer to Hermione and slid her arms around the brunette. "It's ok. I know that and he does too. Things will turn out alright and you can stay here tonight if you want." Ginny brought her hand up to Hermione's face and wiped a few stray tears away. She kissed her friend's cheek softly and held her as the sobs intensified.
Hermione buried her face into Ginny's neck and let the pain wash over her. Losing Ron hurt more than she anticipated. She cried until no more tears came and all the while Ginny sat patiently holding her. She was grateful to her friend for the comfort. Ginny had always made her feel safe. It was no different now. Ginny's whispered reassurances strengthened Hermione's resolve.
After ensuring Hermione was comfortable and in a sound state of mind, Ginny decided it was time for a shower. She was still in her now tear-stained Quidditch robes. Ginny headed upstairs to soak in a tub to ease her aching muscles.
Hermione watched her friend climb the stairs and then settled back into the couch. She was feeling slightly better and had a bit of light reading to do before her trip tomorrow. She walked over to her trunk and pulled out Darcantel: A History. Hermione wanted to know as much as possible about the place she would soon call home. Headmistress McGonagall mentioned the rare book in her response to Hermione's last letter. Chroniculus Punnet, author of Hogwarts: A History also wrote a book detailing the founding of Darcantel. Hermione managed to procure the book by writing directly to the publisher. She curled up on the couch and began to read:
The famed Voodoo Queen, Marie Laveau (1801-1881) founded Darcantel School of Witchcraft and Wizardry in 1831. Of course the idea of a Voodoo Queen was preposterous and made up by local muggles who feared Laveau's true nature. She was really a powerful witch devoted to educating her fellows in the new world. However, the guise of Voodoo Queen provided an effective cover to protect her budding magical school. No muggle wanted to go near her land for fear of being cursed.
Laveau purchased land in what is now the Jean Lafite National Historical Park and Reserve. Nestled two miles from Lake Cataouatche, the school is surrounded by swamps, cypress trees, and Spanish moss, which only add to the enchanted feeling of the place. The gravel road leading to Darcantel is lined with oak trees. The trees create a canopy that form a tunnel leading to the multi-columned, plantation style main house. The building is magically enhanced to accommodate the multitude of students. Students live in four person chalets around the five hundred acre campus. The Professors enjoy rooms on the upper floors of the main house.
Darcantel is the sister school to Beauxbatons Academy of Magic. Laveau herself graduated from Beauxbatons in 1818. She was the daughter of a Creole woman and a rich white planter. Her mother's family, the Darcantels, knew the French Minister of Magic and their influence allowed Laveau to attend Beauxbatons. After graduating, Laveau vowed to create a suitable school for American witches and wizards.
The completion of Darcantel in 1831 heralded a new age for magical education. Like many of the European paragons of education, Darcantel is also unplottable. It differs from Hogwarts in that there is no separation of houses. Laveau felt that segregating students from one another would only breed animosity. She believed in the principles her nation was founded upon and wanted to foster equality between her students. The coat of arms for Darcantel…
Hermione closed her book as she saw Ginny coming down the stairs. It was getting late and Hermione was tired from the events of the day.
Ginny walked over to Hermione an apologetic smile on her face, "Hey bookworm, I bet you're getting pretty tired. Unfortunately my other bedrooms haven't been fully finished. You can sleep on the couch or we can bunk together. Or if you're totally opposed to sleeping next to me, I'll sleep on the couch."
Hermione shrugged, "Now that you're clean sleeping next to you doesn't seem so bad. No reason anyone should be uncomfortable. It wouldn't be the first time we've had a sleep over." Hermione grabbed some pajamas from her trunk and headed into the bathroom to change.
Ginny went into her bedroom and climbed under the blanket. She had a sinking feeling in her stomach; all evening she put on a happy face for the older woman but part of her felt like she was dying. Wondering how to convey her feelings to Hermione, Ginny lay back in bed and stared at the ceiling. Lost deep in thought, Ginny barely noticed Hermione walk out of the bathroom in a pair of plaid boxers and a white tank top. She turned her head at the sound in the doorway and inwardly observed that Hermione managed to look adorable without even trying. However she could not help but wonder why Hermione was just standing there smirking at her.
"Are you going to make room for me or just continue taking up the entire bed? I can always go downstairs," Hermione queried.
"Oh. I didn't even realize I was in the center. Sorry." Ginny mentally swore at herself for being a bed hog as she moved over to make room for the brunette.
Hermione crossed over to the bed and covered herself with the blanket, rolling on to her side in the process so that she faced her friend. Yawning heartily Hermione said, "It seems so unreal that at this time tomorrow I'll be in a foreign bed in a different country. This past month has just flown by."
"But you're excited aren't you? It isn't too late to tell them you changed your mind," Ginny mentioned a little too hopefully.
"I haven't changed my mind. I just know that once I get settled at Darcantel I'll start to miss the life I had here. Well, maybe not all of it but definitely the students. It'll be my first year away from them," Hermione stated thoughtfully.
Ginny nodded, "I understand. I've gotten to the point where away games are not nearly as exciting as they used to be. I'm just lucky that I'm never on the road for more than a few weeks a year."
"Yes. I hope this year doesn't end up feeling like an eternity," said Hermione sleepily.
"I think it will pass faster than you expect, but either way I am going to visit as soon as I can take an extended vacation." When Ginny finished her sentence she noticed that Hermione had fallen asleep. As she watched the steady rhythm of the witch's chest rise and fall, she moved closer to Hermione and brushed a piece of stray hair behind the elder girl's ear. Ginny said quietly, "I already miss you and you haven't even left. How am I going to survive without you until the Quidditch season is over?" She tilted her head forward and kissed Hermione on the forehead before rolling over. As Ginny stared at the wall thinking about the next day and the goodbyes she would have to say she mused, I hope we don't have a post season this year and drifted off to sleep.
Ginny woke to an empty bed. She picked up her silver watch from the nightstand and looked at the time, "Bollocks, I'm late!" She rolled out of bed and cursed as she kicked her night stand. I must have been more tired than I realized, Ginny thought. She rarely slept past 9:00 a.m., but today she managed to sleep until 12:30 p.m. "I'm such a git. I can't believe I managed to sleep through the beginning of Hermione's party," she mumbled while pulling on a pair of jeans. Why didn't she wake me up! Ginny rushed down the stairs and tripped over Hermione's trunk on the way out the door. She bolted down the road and burst into The Three Broomsticks five minutes later. Scanning the pub she spotted Aberforth, Hermione, and Rosmerta in the back corner. Chuckling to herself Ginny made a mental note of the flush apparent on Hermione's face. She walked over and was enthusiastically greeted by the brunette.
"Ginny! I'm so glad you're here. I was beginning to think you might have died," Hermione nearly shouted in her ear as she embraced the slender redhead.
"I guess I was a bit more worn out from the game than usual," Ginny stated as she took a seat next to Aberforth. "How ya been old man?" she asked.
"Oh you know the usual, terrorizing the brats that dare to enter the Hog's Head. Nothing makes me happier than the look of pure fear on a teenagers face," Aberforth grinned menacingly at the former Hogwarts students.
"Sod off. I was never really afraid of you. It's about time you drop that joke," Hermione responded.
"An old man only has the simple pleasures left in life Hermione," Aberforth stated knowingly.
Rosmerta returned at that instant with three glasses of mead and a Firewhisky. "Gin the whisky is for you. You're a bit behind the rest of us," Rosmerta said with a wink.
The four friends spent the rest of their time together catching up and attempting to eliminate as many brain cells as possible. Hermione being practical stopped drinking long before the other three; after all she had to make a good first impression. She anxiously watched the clock above the bar, growing more nervous with each tick of the minute hand. At 2:45 p.m. Hermione stood up to disapparate to the entrance of the Ministry.
Ginny glanced up at the clock and groaned audibly. "I dun wan you to go," she slurred as she rose to say goodbye. Despite her efforts to control her emotions, Ginny's eyes welled up with tears. "'Ermione I'm gon' miss you," She managed to convey as she pulled the older girl into a rough hug that nearly toppled them both over.
Hermione chuckled sadly, "I'll miss you too you goof." She wrapped her arms around Ginny's waist and pulled her closer to her body. Hermione inhaled deeply as she buried her face into Ginny's hair. She loved the way her friend smelled despite her jokes to the opposite. Ginny's smell embodied her spirit. She smelled like the first day of autumn, crisp and clean. It was a scent Hermione wanted to carry with her to the unknown, something to comfort her on those lonely nights. "I love you Gin," she said softly into the other woman's hair.
"Love you, 'Ermione," Ginny said sobbing onto her friends shoulder.
After quick goodbyes to Aberforth and Rosmerta, Hermione disapparated to Ginny's to pick up her trunk. Procuring the item in question, she turned and with a pop reappeared in a side alley near the telephone booth that allowed access to the Ministry of Magic. Lugging her heavy trunk with her into the enclosed space she picked up the receiver and dialed 62442. A voice on the other side responded, "Good day and welcome to the Ministry of Magic. State your name and your business."
"Hermione Granger. I'm here for international travel."
"One moment," responded the disembodied voice.
A clanking sound indicated that her visitors badge had materialized in the coin return slot on the telephone. She reached down and picked it up, pinning it to her robes as the booth descended to the familiar lobby of the Ministry. Hermione stepped out into the glistening atrium. Everything was as she remembered it; they had even reconstructed the damaged fountain. She glanced quickly around looking for Kingsley and was rewarded when she saw him standing near a fireplace separated from the rest of the floo network. Above the fireplace was a plaque that read International Travel, Hermione assumed this was installed when the Ministry began campaigning for greater magical cooperation. She walked briskly forward, calling out to Kingsley as she walked.
Kingsley turned and greeted her cordially, "Miss Granger ever punctual I see."
Hermione had arrived at 2:50; she wanted to be on time. "Yes Minister. Some things never change," she said as she shook his hand. "What is with the international floo connection? I thought wizards and witches could apparate anywhere they wanted," Hermione asked.
Kingsley launched into a lengthy explanation, "Technically that is true; however, in an attempt to strengthen diplomatic relationships countries are regulating international travel. It's mostly a sign of good faith, but there are new spells in place that alert individual governments when a wizard or witch enters their country illegally. It's based on the spell that the Improper Use of Magic Office uses to track underage wizards but on a much larger scale. But enough about business, it's time for you to leave." Kingsley held out a handful of floo powder, "Good luck Miss Granger. I hope your trip is a safe one."
Hermione took the proffered handful of floo powder and tossed it into the hearth. She stepped gingerly into the green flames and shouted 'Madam Benoit's Study.' Hermione barely had time to brace herself for the frantic spinning. She passed an innumerable amount of fireplaces on her journey. She started feeling ill and was close to vomiting when her feet landed hard on brick. Ash blew up into her mouth and eyes. She stumbled out of the fireplace and was greeted by sweltering heat. A heat so intense and humid she felt suffocated. Her vision blurred and she collapsed to the floor.