A/N: I hope this somewhat-AU fanfic isn't too ridiculous. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Again I'm not sure how far this one will go, as I have some other projects that I hope to finish, but if there's enough interest and feedback, I'll continue.

The next morning, Kellen woke up a few minutes early. He quickly showered and got changed into his uniform and robes, and as luck would have it, he caught a glimpse of Percy the Prefect prowling the Gryffindor dormitory halls.

"Excuse me, Percy," Kellen called out. "I was hoping to find my second cousin, Desiree Moultrie this morning. She's a second-year student. Do you know which house she's in?"

"Ahh, Mister Grimsby," Percy replied. "Good morning. You're up bright and early, I see." He smiled at Kellen. "Moultrie, eh? She's a Ravenclaw. A very, very bright witch, even for a house known for its cleverness." His smile brightened. "I can tell intelligence runs in your family, you're a particularly precocious one yourself. I'm a little stunned you're a Gryffindor, to be honest. I would have expected you to be housemates with your cousin."

Kellen blushed. "Thanks, Percy. And it's Grimseth, by the way," he said, trying to be as respectful as possible. "I very nearly got sorted into Ravenclaw, but I wanted to be a Gryffindor more than anything."

"Grimseth," Percy muttered to himself, as if a mental note. He cocked an eyebrow. "It doesn't have anything to do with Miss Granger, does it? The two of you seemed to be quite inseparable last night, from what I could tell."

Kellen blushed a deep shade of pink. "It might…"

"I thought as much," Percy chuckled. "She seems to be a quality friend to have. She's a sharp one too, from what I gather." He grinned at Kellen. "You don't sound like you're from around here."

Kellen shook his head 'no'. "I'm from Minnesota, in the States," he said. "I got invitations to both Ilvermorny and Hogwarts."

Percy nodded. "Interesting, because Desiree is British, through-and-through."

"Yes, she's a Londoner, born-and-raised," Kellen confirmed. "She's an English-Scottish mix."

Percy laughed. "What happened to you, Kellen?"

Kellen chuckled. "My mum's British, but my father's fully Norwegian American. I speak the Norwegian language natively, for what it's worth."

"I'm afraid I don't know any Norwegian," Percy said. "That's very impressive."

"Thanks, Percy," Kellen replied. "Would it be okay if I met up with Desiree at the Ravenclaw table this morning? I think she'd be thrilled to see me. I haven't seen her in a couple of years."

Percy nodded. "That's perfectly acceptable. Just mind your manners and be mindful of the time, you'll want to rejoin your fellow Gryffindor first-years for class."

"Thank you, Percy," Kellen replied. "I guess I'll be heading down to the Great Hall in a minute. If you see Hermione, please let her know I'm with Desiree at the Ravenclaw table."

"I will, Kellen," Percy said. "Good luck. Remember, Ravenclaws wear the blue and gold. If you still have trouble, look for me, or any other Prefect."

Kellen grabbed his book bag and marched downstairs to the Great Hall, trying to find Desiree at the Ravenclaw table.

He was one of the first ones downstairs. He remembered that the Ravenclaws had the blue and gold motif, so it didn't take him long to find the right table. He hung out for a minute or two, until he saw a familiar sight – a petite, baby-faced girl with bouncy copper-colored ringlets draped around her shoulders, light blue eyes and faded freckles on either side of her nose.

"Desiree!" Kellen exclaimed. "It's so good to see you!"

Desiree turned around to see the familiar shaggy blonde boy with the sea-green eyes. "Kellen!" she called out. She walked up to him and the two cousins embraced each other. "It's been forever! I should have suspected you were a wizard," she murmured.

She smiled at her cousin. "So you chose Hogwarts and not Ilvermorny," she said softly. "Interesting. I would have thought you would have stayed Stateside."

Kellen shrugged. "I knew you were here, and I wanted to see at least one familiar face." A flush of color crossed his cheeks. "Though the decision was tough – I found their Deputy Headmistress to be rather… erm, attractive."

Desiree mock-swatted Kellen. "Prat," she said with a giggle. "Come, sit with me, cuz. Let's have a bite together." She gave him another hug. "It's really, really good to see you, by the way. I missed you."

They sat down next to each other with the other Ravenclaws at the table.

Kellen chuckled. "I missed you too, 'Ree." He smiled at his cousin. "You look good in Ravenclaw colors, if you don't mind my saying so."

Desiree giggled. "And who'd have thought you were going to be a Gryffindor? You're too bloody smart to be with those reckless gits."

"A-hem,"a familiar voice said from behind Kellen and Desiree.

Kellen turned around and saw the familiar visage of another petite, baby-faced girl standing, arms akimbo. She had a rather disapproving expression on her face.

"Oh, hiya, Hermione," Kellen said warmly. He stood up to give her a gentle hug.

"Hiya, Kellen," Hermione replied softly. "I see your cousin doesn't approve of your choice of house."

Kellen blushed. "Yes, I wanted to be a Gryffindor, 'Ree. Because of this cheeky little thing behind me." He flashed a smile that could rival the brightness of a hundred-watt bulb.

Desiree giggled. "I just had to give Kellen a hard time. I truly meant nothing by it." She stood up, and offered her hand to Hermione. "Good morning, by the way! I'm Desiree Moultrie, but my friends and family just call me 'Ree." She smiled broadly. "Pleased to make your acquaintance."

Hermione smiled as she took Desiree's hand. "Hi Desiree. I'm Hermione Granger, Kellen's friend and fellow Gryffindor. Charmed to make your acquaintance as well." She giggled. "I half expected you to have one of those awful North American dialects. Thank Merlin you speak with a proper Received Pronunciation dialect."

Kellen glared at Hermione. "Pass på hva du sier, unge dame." Hermione threw Kellen a blank expression. "What's that supposed to mean?" Kellen shrugged. "Roughly translated, it means 'watch your mouth, young lady'." He cocked his head, and spoke in a perfect British accent. "For the record, my Received Pronunciation dialect is right flawless, thank-you-very-much." Hermione's jaw dropped, as she had clearly not expected Kellen to be able to speak the Queen's English with such fluency.

Desiree giggled. "That's my cousin, the bloody polyglot. He's gifted beyond measure." She elbowed him in the ribs gently. "I still think you would have made a terrific Ravenclaw," she said softly. "But I'm very proud of you regardless." "I don't think she believed me when I told her I can code-switch on a whim," Kellen replied, reverting back to his usual Upper Midwestern dialect.

"That's not at all fake, Kellen," Hermione admitted, clearly impressed. "Your British dialect sounds very natural." She giggled. "Truth be told, I wish you could talk like that all the time. It's quite pleasing to the ears."

"When in Rome – or more accurately, Hogwarts," Kellen replied with a smirk. He smiled warmly at Hermione, and flipped back to a posh Received Pronunciation. "I prefer to save my posh pronunciation for special occasions." He reverted back to his native Minnesota dialect. "But this is who I really am, Hermione. I'm a Norwegian-American farm boy from Minnesota at heart, not Lord Byron."

"But your Received Pronunciation accent is really cute, Kellen," Hermione protested. "It suits you."

"I don't really enjoy pretending to be someone that I'm not," Kellen countered. "I don't mind using it every now and then, but I really want to be myself. I wouldn't ask you to be something you're not. I really would have thought you'd have a greater appreciation for individuality."

"You're right, Kellen," Hermione sighed. "I just really like your British accent… it's so posh, and much, much better than the fake ones that most American actors use on stage and screen. You weren't lying when you said you could code-switch."

"Thank you," Kellen replied. "I suppose I can use it in private with you, but I'd still feel a little weird because it's just not me. I wouldn't ask you to talk like Elvis, or a Southern California valley girl. But those accents sound stupid anyway."

Hermione giggled. "Touché, Mister Grimseth." She smiled sweetly at Kellen. "And I promise that I like you because you are different. I won't bug you too much about using the Queen's English, but every now and then would be brilliant, you know." She gave him a gentle side-hug.

"Fair enough, Hermione," Kellen replied. He noticed several students gathering their bookbags and heading to class. "I guess it's time for us to start making our way to class. Transfiguration, if I remember correctly. Shall we?"

Desiree smiled at Kellen and Hermione. "Have a terrific first day of class, you two. It was wonderful seeing you again, Kellen. And it was very nice to meet you, Hermione. I'd love for you to drop by the Ravenclaw another time."

"It was very nice to meet you too, Desiree," replied Hermione. "You're welcome to stop by the Gryffindor table as well. You seem to be very nice."

"Ta, Hermione," said Desiree with a smile. "You seem very nice as well. It takes a special girl to get along with my swot-arse cuz." She giggled again. "You two should really like Transfiguration. Professor McGonagall is the instructor. She's prim-and-proper on the outside, but she's truly got a heart of gold. You'll find her to be among the fairest of all faculty members."

"See ya, 'Ree," Kellen said as he left the table. "Maybe you could visit us at lunch or dinner?"

Desiree giggled. "Perhaps, cuz."

Kellen and Hermione made their way to Transfiguration.

"I like Desiree," Hermione said. "She really seems to think very highly of you."

"She likes you," Kellen assured Hermione. "Not many girls want to hang out with me because I'm so, well… nerdy. She really, really respects the mess out of you because I didn't scare you off."

"Maybe it hasn't occurred to her that I like you because you're a bit of a swot," Hermione replied. "And you're much sweeter than most other children, too." She took his hand and squeezed it slightly.

"Oh, maybe this evening, I can help you learn a little Norwegian," Kellen offered. "I remember you asking me on the train."

"That would be lovely," Hermione said. "I don't expect to be fluent or anything… just enough to converse with you a little bit." She looked into his almost teal eyes. "That's the real you… you're clearly very proud of your Scandinavian heritage, and I would be honored if you would share some of your culture with me."

Kellen grinned. "It would be my pleasure." He looked into her caramel eyes, and once again his Received Pronunciation dialect emerged. "I'd be lying if I said that I wasn't proud of being half British, either."

Hermione surreptitiously gave Kellen a peck on the cheek. Kellen's cheeks turned a bright scarlet.

A couple of minutes later, the friends made their way to the Transfiguration classroom. Professor McGonagall stood by the door, greeting the students as they entered.

"God morgen, Herre Grimseth," Professor McGonagall trilled in a heavily Scottish-accented Norwegian with a broad smile on her face. "Hvordan går det med deg?" She then looked at Hermione. "And good morning to you as well, Miss Granger." (Good morning, Mister Grimseth. How are you?)

"God morgen, Professor McGonagall," replied Kellen with a smirk. "Jeg har det bra. Jeg er klar til å lære i dag." (Good morning, Professor McGonagall. I'm doing fine. I'm ready to learn today.)

"Hello, Professor," said Hermione. "What on Earth are you two saying? I know it's Norwegian, but I don't know even a teeny bit of his language."

"God, god, Herre Grimseth," nodded Professor McGonagall. "Du er en veldig smart gutt." (Good, good, Mister Grimseth. You're a very smart lad.)

Hermione giggled. "I think I got that one. It sounds like she called you a smart boy, Kellen."

Professor McGonagall laughed. "Very good, Miss Granger. I don't speak Norwegian nearly as well as Mister Grimseth does, but I did study the language years and years ago. I never thought I'd ever use it at Hogwarts, but here we are!"

"You should hear him speak the Queen's English, Professor," Hermione said. "Not just the accent, but he knows the slang and everything. It's perfect. If I didn't know any better, he could have told me he was a Londoner and I would have totally believed him."

"That doesn't surprise me. He has family in Britain," replied the professor. "In fact, he's got a second cousin that's a Ravenclaw. She's an exceptionally bright young witch in her own right."

Hermione beamed. "Desiree Moultrie? Yes, I met her this morning. She's a nice girl. I invited her to join us at the Gryffindor table sometime."

"Oh, so you do know her then," purred Professor McGonagall. "I have no doubt that the two of you would become good friends."

"Are you surprised that Kellen is a Gryffindor?" Hermione asked.

Professor McGonagall smiled. "I am, and then again, I'm not. I haven't seen a student with his intellectual aptitude in many, many years. And I don't mean to shortchange either yourself or Desiree because you're both very gifted yourselves…"

"No disrespect taken, Professor," Hermione admitted. "Yes, I know I'm gifted, but Kellen's on another level, really. I have a partial eidetic memory, but his is absolute. He could spend mere minutes studying and get perfect marks."

Kellen's cheeks turned bright pink. "I think I'll go take my seat," he said with a note of embarrassment. "I'll save a seat for you, Hermione."

Professor McGonagall chuckled. "He's a modest one, too. He seems to get easily embarrassed when someone brings up how smart he is." She paused for a brief moment. "I heard he put a certain young Mister Malfoy in his place prior to the sorting ceremony last night… he must have read material meant for more advanced students."

"He defended my honor, Professor," Hermione clarified. "He called me a really dreadful word, but Kellen cast something called the Dangling Jinx on him. I think Draco will think twice before picking on a Gryffindor again, at least as long as Kellen is there."

"Yes, it takes some bravery to stand up to a bully," Professor McGonagall replied. "Out of curiosity, was that epithet regarding your parentage?"

Hermione looked like she was about to cry. "Yes, Professor," she murmured. "I'm Muggle-born. But getting called… mudblood, it's just so mean, and hurtful." A tear rolled down her cheek.

Professor McGonagall embraced Hermione warmly. "That is absolutely nothing to be ashamed of, Miss Granger. Mister Grimseth is Muggle-born too, you know. But he doesn't mind, in fact – he seems to actually embrace his Muggle roots. He's going to be a very powerful wizard one day. I can easily see him becoming the youngest-ever headmaster of Ilvermorny, for example." She smiled at Hermione. "And you, Miss Granger, have significant potential as well. If a Slytherin mocks your parentage, please remember that it's not because they really think they're better than you are – no, it's because they're insecure about themselves and jealous of your gifts. You'll get the last laugh, I promise, child."

She took a handkerchief and wiped the tear off Hermione's cheek. "For what it's worth, Mister Grimseth didn't entirely get sorted into Gryffindor because that's where you ended up. He's definitely got courage, and a good amount of it. He's very protective of his friends, but especially you. He'd sacrifice his own life in a heartbeat if it means protecting you from harm. I hope you know that."

Hermione nodded. "He's a very sweet boy, Professor. I couldn't have asked for a better first friend here."

Professor McGonagall smiled at Hermione. "Yes, he is a very sweet boy, Miss Granger. And he's equally lucky to have you as a friend."

"Thank you, Professor," replied Hermione. "Desiree was right, she said you're a very kind and understanding witch."

"I care deeply for all my students, regardless of where they're sorted," Professor McGonagall confirmed. "And I do hope that you and Miss Moultrie do become friends, as I do encourage inter-house friendships. You two seem to have plenty in common."

"Kellen told me that Desiree likes me because he hasn't scared me off," Hermione said. "Anyone that can be friends with Kellen automatically earns her respect. I know he's a bit… nerdy, but I promise it doesn't bother me. It's a little endearing, actually."

Professor McGonagall smiled. "Would you like to perhaps join me for tea and biscuits later this week, during your free period? How about Wednesday? You may invite Mister Grimseth, if you'd like."

"That would be fantastic, actually," Hermione replied. "I don't know if Kellen's a tea-and-biscuits kind of boy, though…"

Professor McGonagall laughed. "I can brew some Norwegian spruce tea that he can't possibly turn down. Tea is very much part of Scandinavian culture – it's different than the tea we drink in the British Isles, but tea is tea, is it not? And I don't think he'd turn down a cup of Irish Breakfast tea. He's a cultivated boy, you know." She motioned toward an empty seat next to Kellen. "Class is going to start in just a minute or two, so why don't you take your seat next to Mister Grimseth? He's been waiting patiently for you for a few minutes."

"Sounds good, Professor," Hermione said. "Thank you… for everything."

"My pleasure, child," trilled Professor McGonagall.