The morning of Harry's departure, he was awoken by Athena gently landing on his shoulder and hooting in his ear. Rubbing his eyes, Harry sat up slowly, moving the owl from his shoulder to his hand. After untying the roll of parchment from Athena's leg, she flapped over to the desk and perched on the top of her cage. He shut the window, so the owl couldn't take off again, before fumbling his glasses onto his face and unfurling the parchment. Ginny's curvy script put a smile on his face, despite the early hour. This was the second letter he had received from her; the first bearing news that she had been made quidditch captain for Gryffindor.
Harry,
Sorry for the early calling, but I couldn't sleep, thinking about your trip today. So, I figured I'd get a head start and wish you safe travels. I can't wait to see pictures of your new (temporary!) home. Keep your fingers crossed for me. I'm holding tryouts tomorrow for the team and I'm nervous what that's going to bring out of the woodwork. After seeing Ron and Hermione return, I think everyone is expecting you to suddenly pop out and announce you're back to play Seeker! Ron's already bowed out of the Keeper position. He says it's time to hand it over the the next generation. So noble…gag! Anyway, he and Hermione told me last night to send you their love and luck on your travels. They'll owl in a few days, once you're settled in. Beware, Hermione will want details of every single one of your classes. As if you won't already have enough work to be going on with.
Don't worry about writing back right now (yes, I can read your mind!). I'm patient enough to wait until you've recouped from travel, and can tell me all about California. Best of luck today!
Love Always,
Ginny
xxx
Harry grabbed a quill and parchment and, disobeying her orders, scratched a quick reply to Ginny. He thanked her and wished her luck with the tryouts, remembering how daunting the task had been when he faced it. Promising to write again soon, he sealed it up as Athena clicked anxiously from her cage.
"You have to stay here now," Harry explained, offering his owl a treat. She happily accepted. Harry stroked her wing, continuing, "Well be leaving shortly. I'm sure Errol can take this to Ginny."
By eight o'clock, Harry was showered, dressed, fed, and standing in the middle of the kitchen with Athena and his leather satchel. Molly was fussing about, ensuring he wasn't leaving anything behind. His boxes of larger possessions had been picked up the day before by Kingsley's assistant, Quinton, who assured Harry that it was his top priority to ensure it all arrived safely in Los Angeles.
"The house is going to be so quiet with you all gone again," Molly mourned. She reached up, trying to flatten Harry's hair.
"Molly, dear," Arthur said, gently touching her shoulder. "Harry has to get into the ministry. If he misses his portkey, it'll set him back half a day."
Molly took a deep breath and gathered Harry into a tight embrace.
"I promise everyone will get owls as soon as possible," Harry reassured. "And we'll all be back, filling your house with chaos before you know it."
Molly sniffled and patted his cheek. "I'm already counting down the days."
After one last hug, Harry stepped into the fireplace and called out, "The Ministry of Magic!"
Arthur and Harry walked across the atrium to the lifts and rode down to the sixth level. Upon stepping out, they were greeted by a grey haired witch, sitting at a small desk. Her name plate read Pearl.
"How may I direct you, gentlemen?" Pearl asked, sweetly.
"I'm Harry Potter ma'am," Harry introduced. "I'm here to catch a nine o'clock portkey to America."
"Aah, yes, been expecting you dear." Pearly rifled through the slips of parchment and pulled out one that had Harry's name on it. "Do you have anything to declare on your travels?"
"Er, just my owl and my bag," Harry answered.
Pearl checked a box and asked, without looking up, "And the owl's name?"
"Athena."
Pearl wrote the name on the slip, next to the checked box for 'animals'.
"Right, now," Pearl announced, handing the parchment to Harry. "You'll want to head down the hall here, to room twelve, where Mr. Lernston will give Athena a quick health check. Once she is cleared, you'll find Grover Marsh in room fifteen. He'll be taking your picture and preparing your passport. Any questions before I send you on your way?"
"No, I should be good. Thank you," Harry answered.
"This is where I leave you, Harry," Arthur stated, clasping Harry's shoulder. "I won't fuss over you like Molly. But, I wish you the best of luck with your journey and can't wait to hear all about it."
"Thanks Mr. Weasley," Harry replied, holding out his hand. "For everything."
Arthur grasped Harry's hand and pulled him in for a hug. "No matter what, our door is always open and ready to welcome you back." Harry nodded, unable to find more words to express his overwhelming gratitude. "Now, hurry off. You don't want that portkey to leave without you."
Arthur released him and with a final wave, Harry set off down the corridor. In room twelve he found Adam Lernston, an animal caretaker. After a short examination, Athena was given a clean bill of health, and her cage marked with a green circle. A short walk further, Harry found Grover Marsh tinkering with a large camera, set upon a tripod.
"Hello! Come in, come in!" Grover welcomed "So wonderful to meet you Mr. Potter! Come, come, have a seat," Grover sang, pointing to a stool in front of his camera.
Harry set Athena and his bag on the floor and climbed up onto the stool.
"Smile on my count. Three, two, one." Grover pushed the trigger and Harry gave it his best effort to smile through the blinding light. "If you give me just a few minutes, I'll have your passport all set up," he said, carrying the still developing picture to his desk.
"In some of the muggle areas of America, they'll require you to have an official form of identification," Grover explained as he pulled a small maroon booklet from a box. "Should you happen to have a run in with their authorities, you needn't panic. We'll take care of you. I don't foresee you having any sort of trouble, but it's always best to respect their laws and customs."
Grover affixed Harry's photo into the booklet. With a quick tap of his wand, Harry's pictured face froze and his basic information appeared on the blank lines.
"Once in America, you'll have this stamped before portkeying to your next stop," Grover concluded, handing the passport to Harry.
"Wait, next stop? How many portkeys do I have to take?" Harry wandered.
"Let's see, you're heading for …." Grover trailed off for a moment while he inspected Harry's slip of parchment. "Ahh, I see, Los Angeles. I do believe a trip that length will take about three portkeys. I'm about to send you off to the departure area. They'll have all the information for you there. Just head to the end of this corridor, take a right, and go on into room twenty-one, at the very end of the hall. Have a great trip Mr. Potter!"
"Thanks," Harry muttered. He picked up his things and trudged to the next office. He was not a fan of portkey traveling in the first place and he was not happy to hear he'd have to take at least three in the span of hours. When he opened the door to room twenty-one, Harry was accosted by a familiar booming voice.
"Ahh, there he is!" Kingsley Shacklebolt wrapped an arm around Harry's shoulders and led him into a large room that had been split into seven sections, by high cubicle walls. Each section was labeled with the name of a different continent. "We should have plenty of time to go over the traveling process before your portkey leaves," Kingsley said, leading Harry to the North America area.
"Mr. Marsh just told me I'd have to take three portkeys. Is that right?" Harry asked, skeptically.
"Unfortunately, that is highly likely," Kingsley answered, regretfully. "The portkey that you take from here will take you to New York City. That is where MACUSA is stationed. The Magical Congress of the United States of America," Kingsley explained when Harry raised his eyebrows. "With international travel, we have permission to send you only to a country's capital city. From there, witches or witches register with that country and are sent off to their final destinations."
"As I said, your first stop will be New York City. There you will register your owl and your wand, and be given your wand permit. I advise you to keep your wand permit on you at all times as the Congress can be quite strict about that particular law." Kingsley paused and asked, "Any questions so far, Harry?
"So from New York, I'll be able to portkey straight to Los Angeles?" Harry asked, hopefully.
"No, sorry," Kingsley answered. "A standard portkey won't take you that distance. Chances are, after New York City, you'll take two or three more before reaching Los Angeles. Once there, you will be met by a representative from the A.A.A and they will apparate you to your dormitory. I think that's everything I need to tell you." Kingsley paused and smiled warmly at Harry. "I'll let you learn for yourself the various American idiosyncrasies you'll encounter. It's quite a unique country, with very different ways to what you're used to in our magical communities. If you have any questions regarding their laws, don't hesitate to ask someone. We don't want to give the Congress any reason to deport you back here, before you finish your school year, do we?" Kingsley laughed.
"No, sir," Harry answered quickly.
"Oh, son, I'm not worried about you in the least!" Kingsley clapped his shoulder and directed Harry's attention to a witch, setting what appeared to be a steering wheel on a table. "Eliza, here, will take care of you now."
"I don't really have to do much," the young witch laughed. "In about five minutes, the portkey will glow blue. Touch it and you're on your way!"
"Good luck, Harry, and please keep me posted on how you're getting on," Kingsley said, holding out his hand.
"Will do, Minister," Harry replied, shaking Kingsley's hand. "Thank you, so much, for everything."
Kingsley nodded and gave Harry one last pat on the shoulder before excusing himself.
"Are you prone to portkey sickness, Mr. Potter?" Eliza asked, sweetly.
"Er, not that I'm aware of," Harry answered.
"Well, just in case your stomach doesn't agree with your travel plans, take this," Eliza advised, handing Harry a tiny vial, filled with a translucent pink liquid. "It'll help calm the nausea." Harry accepted the vial and stuffed it in his bag. "Right now, go on and grab tight. It's starting to glow," Eliza instructed, pointing to the steering wheel.
Harry shuffled over to the table and grabbed the wheel. Seconds later, he felt an uncomfortable hook at his navel and was pulled into the twisting nether. His body was twisted, pushed, and pulled like a piece of taffy. Just when he thought he couldn't take another second, Harry was belched out, onto a large padded rug.
Harry swore softly as he stumbled to his feet. He straightened his glasses, but his vision took another few seconds to come into focus. Finally, he registered that he was in a large, dingy, darkened room. There were about twenty chairs in the center, half of them occupied by wizards, from various countries, reading or dozing. One wall was lined with cubicles. The adjacent was lined with empty, numbered cubicles.
"Harold Potter?" a harsh, thick voice drawled.
Harry turned quickly, causing his head to spin, and saw a stout woman, with apple red hair, looking at him with a bored expression on her face. She was sat behind a cubicle desk, beckoning him over.
"Just Harry actually," he corrected, shuffling over and falling into the chair, dropping Athena's cage harder than her meant to.
"Alright, just Harry. My name is Lucy. Welcome to the United States of America," she said quickly. "Do you have your travel papers?" Harry handed her his slip of parchment and passport. She stamped a page in the passport and handed it back to him, keeping the slip of parchment. "Still using parchment, adorable," Lucy muttered. Harry sensed she thought that it was anything but adorable.
"Place your wand on the cradle," Lucy ordered, pointing to a scale, covered in foam, on Harry's right. "And place your owl's cage on the desk."
Harry lifted Athena's cage onto the desk and laid his wand on the foam. The wand sank slightly, the scale dinged, and then tipped over so that his wand rolled onto the desk, leaving a mold in the foam.
"Your wand print and information is now logged into our system," Lucy announced, with a yawn. The scale spit out a rectangle slip of paper. Lucy tapped the paper and a copy of Harry's passport picture appeared. She then swirled her wand over it and two thin pieces of laminate encased the paper. Lucy slid the permit across the desk, to Harry. "That's your official wand permit. Keep it on you at all times."
Lucy then turned her attention to Athena. She tapped her wand on the bottom of the cage and the numbers 88217 were instantly engraved on it. She scribbled those numbers onto Harry's slip of parchment and pushed it aside. Opening the cage, Lucy pointed her wand at Athena's leg. Athena, not enjoying the unwelcome intrusion, bit at the wand. Unfazed, Lucy drew a small circle in the air and a red ribbon wrapped itself around the owl's leg, also bearing the numbers 88217.
"This is your owl's registration number. Should the need arise, we use this to track her," Lucy explained as she closed the cage on an indignant Athena. She tapped a fresh piece of green paper and tapped it with her wand. "Here is your portkey schedule. Your next one is scheduled to leave in twenty minutes, going to St. Louis, Missouri. From there, you'll go to Phoenix, Arizona, where you will catch your final portkey to Los Angeles. I advise you not to dawdle in St. Louis. You will only have five minutes between trips," Lucy concluded.
Harry sat, dazed, for a moment. Getting the sense that Lucy was done, in more ways than one, Harry thanked her for her time and went to join the other waiting witches and wizards, in the center.
By the time Harry reached Los Angeles, he wasn't quite sure which way was up or if he was still in the same country. He had been propelled through three time zones, encountering different accents in each one. Every city he stopped in had been cloaked in darkness, so he couldn't decipher exactly what time it was, as he lay sprawled on the cool tile, following his last voyage through time and space.
"Are you Harry Potter," a tentative voice above him asked. Harry opened one eye and the face of a bald, smiling man swam into view.
"Yeah, that's me," Harry groaned, slowly sitting up. Athena was clicking madly in her cage. It had spilled over up landing.
"Here, let me help ya up," the man said, offering out his hand. Harry grabbed it and was slowly pulled to his feet.
"Thank you," Harry moaned, picking up Athena's cage. "Sorry, I don't think I caught your name."
"Oh, I'm Ivan Houser. I'm the resident assistant for freshman and sophomores, at the academy," Ivan introduced.
"Nice to meet you Ivan."
"Before we leave, you should visit the lovely witch over there," Ivan directed, pointing to a small blonde woman, behind a counter. "She'll exchange your money for you."
Harry dragged himself to the counter and dug his coin pouch from his pocket. The lady happily counted out his galleons, and then passed him a stack of green paper bills and a handful of assorted coins. Harry stared at the foreign money, trying to figure out the various images pictured on it all.
"I know you all in Britain separate your wizard money from the no-maj money, but we have found it easiest here to use the same dollars and coins as No-Majes," Ivan explained.
Harry, too exhausted to question Ivan's statement, meekly nodded and shoved the money into his pocket. He was able to summon just enough energy to ask, "What time is it?"
"Just after two in the morning," Ivan answered. "Great Britain is eight hours ahead of us."
What had felt like a day's worth of traveling had, in actuality, only been an hour.
"If you're ready, I'll apparate us to your dormitory." Ivan held out his arm and Harry defeatedly clung onto it.
With a quick turn, Harry was sucked in, and then quickly siphoned out into cool, fresh air. He took a long, deep breath and let the new environment wash over him. There was a strong breeze, carrying the scent of salt water with it. Lamp lights glowed around the footpaths, casting shadows of palm trees over the spiky grass. Harry did a slow, three hundred and sixty degree turn.
He was standing in the middle of a circular courtyard. He could make out large buildings lining the perimeter, but the darkness masked their details. Ivan was starting off towards one of the buildings to the north side. Harry hustled to keep up with him.
"This is your dormitory," Ivan said, opening the door for Harry. "It's called Grizzly Hall, but most people refer to it as The Grizz. All our buildings, on campus, are named after California State facts. Grizzly Hall is after our state animal, the Grizzly Bear."
Ivan started climbing a set of stairs and continued his introduction. "The first floor is mainly the lobby and laundry facilities. Your No-Maj mailbox is down there. It'll correspond with your room number, which is 503. My room and Larissa's are there also. You'll meet Larissa tomorrow. She's the resident assistant for the juniors and seniors."
"Floors two, three, four, and five house all the students, according to year. All of your freshman class will be on floor five. If you should continue with us for all of your training, you'll remain on the same floor, same room. We believe this helps promote unity and communication with your fellow classmates."
"The final two floors are student lounge areas. The top floor is a No-Maj area. You'll find computers, television, video games, the works. All those No-Maj creature comforts we can't do without!"
They finally reached the fifth floor and Ivan pulled out a set of keys, when they stopped in front of door 503.
"You can only open these doors with a key," Ivan warned. "We take students' safety and privacy very seriously. Try Alohamora and it will set off an alarm, sending the building into lockdown and prohibiting apparition. I suggest hiding the extra key in the bag you'll use everyday, just in case you lock yourself out. It's inevitable- every year a freshman locks themselves out and without even thinking tries to magic the door open. Unless you're trying to get into a room that isn't yours, there's no consequence. Usually the embarrassment is enough to make them remember for next time. If you find yourself locked out, find Larissa or I, and we'll key you in."
Ivan unlocked the door and handed Harry the keys.
"Thanks," Harry mumbled tiredly. He half heartedly swished his wand and an overhead candle chandelier sprang to life.
"Looking forward to getting to know you Harry! We'll see you at orientation tomorrow night." Ivan waved and closed the door.
He set down Athena's cage and his bag, then stumbled to the bathroom. Hanging his head over the sink, he wretched his breakfast down the drain.
After successfully purging the contents of his stomach, Harry splashed cold water over his face and then peeled off his t-shirt. He studied the worn reflection staring back at him, in the mirror, and frowned.
"Why, yes Eliza, I am prone to portkey sickness," Harry grumbled. Rummaging through his satchel, his hand finally closed on the pink potion vial. Downing it in one gulp, Harry kicked off his trainers and collapsed on the bare mattress. He was able to extinguish the lights just before falling into a dead sleep.
The sound of chirping birds and crashing waves stirred Harry awake. He rolled over and tried to hold onto his slumber, but his mind wouldn't let him. Lighting the chandelier again, he found his possessions stowed in a far corner, by the kitchenette. He dug through one box until he found his watch to check the time. The watch read one-thirty p.m. After kicking his brain into gear, Harry did some quick calculating and reset the watch for five-thirty a.m.
Searching through the box once more, Harry found his camera. He got a fresh shirt and jacket from his duffel bag. After fastening a key to the Dirigible keychain, he stowed the extra key in the satchel, along with some money, his passport, and wand permit. The portkey sickness potion and sleep had renewed his energy, and Harry was anxious to explore his new surroundings.
As the welcome booklet had touted, the campus was set right on the beach. After breaching the perimeter of the buildings, Harry was met with a long stretch of sand that flowed seamlessly into the breaking ocean waves.
Harry pulled off his shoes and socks, and sank his bare feet into the cool, coarse sand. Taking his time, he trekked across the beach to where moisture darkened the sand. Harry rolled up the cuffs of his jeans and took his first steps into the Pacific.
The water was freezing as it caressed his feet and sank his heels deeper into the now smooth and mushy sand. Harry pulled his jacket tighter as chills ran through his body. He continued to stand in the ebb and flow, watching as the sun started breaking through the final dark moments. Harry turned his back to the ocean and took in the full beauty of yellow and orange streaks, melting together and painting the clouds pink.
He pulled out his camera and started snapping pictures. After a dozen or so of the sunrise and ocean, Harry unearthed his feet and started walking the beach. He snapped a picture of a small crab, scuttling sideways and then burrowing into the sand when Harry got too close. He clicked away at grey and white seagulls soaring over the ocean and fighting each other for scraps of food.
After an hour, Harry walked back to campus. Not bothering to put his shoes back on, he let the sand slough off his feet as he ambled through the dewy grass. In the sunlight, he finally got a good look at the buildings.
While they varied in size and shape, each was cream colored stucco, with rusted red, terracotta roofs. Harry walked the circle, taking note of the buildings' names- Redwood Hall, Serpentine Hall, Sabre-Tooth Gymnasium, Golden Gate Cafe. Harry took a few pictures of campus, mainly for Hermione, and tried to capture some of the little details, like the blue and gold gems that framed every window.
Before he knew it, Harry's camera ran out of film. He took that as a sign to head back to his dorm and start sorting through his things.
The sun had fully risen by that time, so Harry left the chandelier dark and threw open the royal blue curtains. The small flat was illuminated and Harry was finally able to see the complete layout.
Just inside the door, to the right, was a small kitchen area. There was a sink, with cabinets above and below, and a sliver of counter space to the right. Two seats and a cafe table were centered on the scant tiled area.
To the left of the door, was the three piece washroom- toilet, sink, and narrow standing shower, all in crisp white, with silver finishings.
The rest of the room was covered with a dark hardwood floor. On the left side, a four step staircase case took you up to a platformed bedroom area, though it was in full view of the rest of the room. At the foot of the bed was a wardrobe and a dresser, with three drawers. On each side of the full sized bed was a nightstand.
The modest sitting area boasted a futon couch, an armchair, a coffee table, bookshelf, a desk, and rolling desk chair. There was a window in front of his desk, and one behind the bed, that overlooked the courtyard outside. Looking out, Harry noticed people were out and about, getting a start to their day.
Pointing his wand at the boxes, Harry summoned all of his possessions and spread them out on the floor. Harry placed the record player on the coffee table and set a record, from The Beatles' White Album, to play.
It didn't take long for him to get his few things into place. He smiled as he made up his bed. Before leaving the Burrow, he had snuck into Ginny's room and stole her quilt and pillow. Harry hoped her scent would help to keep the nightmares at bay, while he slept.
Also, before leaving, he had stopped off to visit an old friend at the Prophet. With a little bit of creative blackmailing, Rita Skeeter gave up the original copy of the picture of him and Ginny at the nightclub. He was well aware that every witch and wizard in Britain had seen it already, but he selfishly wanted the color copy to frame for himself. It now had a place of honor on one of the bedside tables. And true to his word, Harry devoted a wall to the pictures he and Ginny had taken on their last night together.
He had just sat down with a cup of tea, admiring his private little slice of the world, when a knock on the door made him jump.
On the other side of his door Harry found a man with long, wavy blond hair, hazel eyes, and a big grin looking back at him. The guy wore a white muscle shirt, torn jeans, and brown leather sandals. He was about two inches taller than Harry and much broader. The muscle shirt lived up to it's name, showing off the man's well defined arms and abdominals.
"Hey there!" the blonde man greeted, eagerly. "I heard your music and thought I'd come introduce myself!"
Harry smiled and waited for the introduction, but the guy just kept smiling and nodding his head. After half of minute of silence Harry arched his eyebrows and slowly nodded his head once, hoping the man would get the hint.
"Oooohhh, yeah, sorry! Cliff Morris," the guy finally laughed, holding out his hand.
"Hi, Harry Potter," Harry replied. Harry grasped Cliff's hand and waited for Cliff's eyes to dart to his forehead, but Cliff just continued to grin and shook Harry's hand, vigorously.
"Sweet accent! Where you from, dude?"
"England. Just arrived, early this morning."
"London?" Cliff inquired.
"No, was born in the West Country, but grew up in Surrey."
"Cool, cool," Cliff acknowledged, still bobbing his head. He looked past Harry and his eyes went wide. "Wow, you work fast! I just chucked my stuff on the floor and came out to investigate the new digs."
"Come on in, if you'd like," Harry offered, stepping aside. "I made tea, if you'd like a cuppa."
"Oh man, you Brits really are as polite as you seem on TV," Cliff chuckled as he closed the door. "Nah, thanks, but tea isn't really my game." He wandered around the dorm, inspecting the record player. "Loving the vintage setup and tunes," he praised. He meandered to the desk and picked up the picture of Harry and Ginny in the hammock. Letting out a wolf whistle, he asked, "Who's the smokin' red head? I get the feeling you aren't gonna say sister."
Harry laughed and said, "No, only child unfortunately. That's my girlfriend, Ginny."
"Man, how hard was it to leave her behind," Cliff wondered aloud, replacing the picture. "She a No-Maj?"
"Ivan kept using that word this morning. What is a No-Maj?" Harry asked, exasperated.
Cliff looked at Harry and his grin faltered a little bit, as though Harry had just asked what color is the sky. "You know, No-Maj. Non magical, normal, people," Cliff explained, throwing up air quotes on the word normal.
"Oh, I understand now," Harry said, relieved. "We call them muggles back home. But, no, Ginny's whole family is magical. Youngest of seven wizard brothers."
"Dang, you've got quite the line to toe with her!"
"It helps when one of those brothers is your best mate," Harry laughed.
"I'd think so." Cliff turned to Harry, rubbing his stomach. "Wanna go grab some breakfast? I don't think the cafe opens until tonight, for dinner. But there's a bunch of restaurants and grocery stores nearby.
"Yeah, sounds good." Harry grabbed his bag and stuffed his key in his pocket.
Cliff led the way off campus, into the community of Venice. Harry noticed that at one point, they seemed to cross an invisible line and the temperature got warmer. Cliff caught Harry looking over his shoulder, trying to find the source of sudden heat.
"The campus is one of the few sections of LA that is completely No-Maj proof," Cliff explained. "You know you've crossed into the boundaries when the air gets cooler. It let's you know you're safe to use magic again."
"So are there not many wizards in the city?" Harry inquired.
"No, there's a ton," Cliff explained "It's such a big city, and attracts people from all walks of life, that wizards just blend in with everyone else. We have a statute of secrecy we're held to, so we can't do magic in front of no-majes, but rarely do they notice an occasional slip up. And the authorities here won't waste time trying to track a wizard down for minor spells. They only show their faces for big stuff."
"So you were born here, in Los Angeles?"
"Yup, been here my whole life. Love it!" Cliff turned a corner and led Harry into a small diner. "There are only a dozen or two places in the entire city that are solely magical areas. This block is one of them. Any no-maj will walk by and see burned out, graffitied buildings, plastered with NO TRESPASSING signs."
"It's very different back in England," Harry remarked, sliding into a booth. They gave their drink orders to the waitress and looked over the menus. "Back home, we have quite a few designated wizarding communities and a lot of kids grew up surrounded entirely by magic, never knowing much about muggle life."
Cliff ordered a western omelette and Harry stayed simple with toast, not wanting to test his stomach on a full, greasy breakfast.
"What about you?" Cliff asked, when their waitress left the table. "You raised with wizards or muggles?"
It was a welcome relief to talk to someone who had never read his life's story from a history book.
"Muggles," Harry replied. "My dad was from a wizarding family, but my mum's family was muggle. She was the only one in her family." Harry sipped his water. It was the first he had been easily able to talk about his parents in a long while. "They unfortunately passed away suddenly, when I was one, so I ended up with my mum's muggle sister. Her and my uncle hated anything to do with magic, so they never told me that I was a wizard. Didn't find out until I was eleven, when they ended up being forced to tell me because letters started arriving from the wizard school."
"Wow, bum deal, bro," Cliff consoled. "Can't imagine losing both parents. My Pops passed when I was five. Don't remember much of him. He was a No-Maj, worked construction. Freak accident one day and he was gone. My mom was left with with me and my older sister, Penny. We were lucky though. Both sets of grandparents were still alive and helped my mom out a lot."
Harry sat with Cliff, in the diner, for over an hour. They shared stories, comparing countries and traditions long after their food had disappeared. Finally, tossing a few bills on the table, Cliff took Harry around the block, to a grocery store.
"I really need to figure out this American currency," Harry muttered, sifting through his money.
"You really need to pick up a wallet," Cliff said, lowly so that only Harry could hear. "I don't recommend walking around with that much cash, jangling around loose like that."
"Right," Harry sighed. "Back in home, we don't have bills. All coins."
"This city is great, but turn the wrong corner and it can all go south quickly," Cliff warned, grabbing a bag of pretzels. "You're allowed to use magic in self defense, but always best not to end up in the situation if you can avoid it."
Harry nodded an acknowledgment and set off down the aisle. He picked up a few staples- bread, milk, sugar, and eggs. He tossed in some crisps and chocolate biscuits for emergency snacking. Mostly he just walked around and ogled the variety of food on the shelves. He was pretty sure one could find anything on earth in this store. Brightly colored boxes of cereal, endless rows of ice cream flavors, fizzy pop from all over the world adorned the racks. As Harry walked to the checkout, a bag of rainbow colored sweets diverted his attention. The label read Jolly Ranchers and Harry smiled. He grabbed a pack and continued to the till.
Back in the dorm, Cliff shook Harry's hand and pointed to the door, across from Harry's. "This is me, 510," Cliff pointed out. "Wanna meet around 6, for dinner? We can check out what the cafe has cookin'."
"Yeah, alright," Harry agreed.
"Sweet, see you then!" Cliff waved and disappeared into his room.
Harry let himself into his own dorm and set to putting away his groceries. Conjuring a small box, he dumped the Jolly Ranchers into it and took it to his desk. Grabbing a fresh quill and uncorking a new bottle of ink, he started a letter to Ginny.
Ginny,
I survived my trip, just barely though it felt. I have discovered that portkey sickness is a thing and I suffer from it. But I guess it's to be expected when you have to take THREE of them, within one HOUR! Between that, and getting used to the time change, it was a rough morning. On the plus side, I got to stand on the beach and watch the sunrise. It was as amazing as it sounds, and I can't wait to share the experience with you some time. For now, my amateur photography will have to do.
I really like my new flat. It's small, but for the first time I have a space that feels like it's completely mine. I regret to inform you that I have confiscated your pillow and quilt from home. It's for a worthy cause and I promise they will be returned safely, along with me.
I got to meet one of my classmates already. His name is Cliff and he looks and talks like no one else I've ever met. His hair makes Charlie's look short. And the words he uses! I know he's speaking English, but in a context that is uniquely American. Within the first five minutes my head was whirling with words like dude, sweet, digs, and smokin'. I'm pretty sure the last one is a compliment, because he said it when he saw your picture, and was disappointed when I informed him that you were not my sister (I'm enjoying imaging your blush right now as you read this over breakfast!). And muggles aren't called muggles here. They're called No-Maj, which stands for no magic. What have I signed myself up for?
How did quidditch tryouts go? Did you find a few diamonds in the rough, or is it a rebuilding season? If I know you as well as I think I do, I'm sure you've put together a stellar squad. I can't wait to hear full details of your matches and imminent wins.
If you haven't noticed, I included a little treat for you. I saw them in the shop and they made me think of you, which made me smile. I wanted to send them along so you can see if the actual sweet lives up to the drink. I also tucked in some of the pictures I took of the beach and campus. I figured you'd enjoy the beach and Hermione (who I assume is reading this over your shoulder) would like to see the campus. (Hermione- I promise I will write after my first day of classes and tell you all about it! And tell Ron to expect a letter also. I need to go to the gymnasium and see if they have a quidditch league.)
I promise to write you again soon also, of course. Good luck with the new team!
All my love,
Harry
xxx
Harry sorted through his pictures and pulled a few out to include in the package. On the bottom of the last picture- the sun rising over the campus- Harry wrote out the lyrics:
"The sun is up, the sky is blue
It's beautiful and so are you"