Dearest Harry, Ginny and Ron,

First of all, since I couldn't bring my owl with me to Hong Kong, and I have yet to discover how it is that wizards sent their post here, I'm muggle mailing it to Harry. And I'm hoping he can do me the favor of forwarding this to you two Weasleys.

Anyway. Hong Kong has been quite interesting and seems to be a perfect fusion between England and China. When I first got here, I was so worried that no one would speak English, but it seems that more people speak English than Cantonese! And even when they do speak Chinese, they just pop in a couple English words here and there anyway! It is beyond fascinating.

The family I've been staying with, the Sussmans, have been wonderful, but as I've already told Ginny, they are extremely lenient in terms of what Cori, their daughter, can do. She's only fifteen, but at least once a week, she dresses up in these beautiful little dresses that must have cost a fortune, and goes out with her friends to the partying districts. She gets home at about five the next morning, totally drunk. I'm in the room next to hers, and I can hear her on the phone with her friend or whatever, ranting and raving about one such guy, or Club so-and-so, and how 'awesome' it was. Fifteen she may be, but to be honest, she looks at least 19 when she goes out and acts like it as well!

I've been spending most of my time walking around the city, finding little cafés for me to sit in and read or study. It really is so interesting here. I wish you guys could've come with me!

Anyway, enough about my holidays. How have yours been so far? Please write! Ron, Ginny, I'm sure your father will be ecstatic at taking a trip to the muggle post office! If you don't think its safe (haha), maybe you can send the letters to Harry? And he could help forward them.

Love,

Hermione

p.s. the address is on the envelope.


Hermione was having trouble sleeping, so she had decided to write to Harry, Ron and Ginny. Quickly glancing at the clock, she realized it was already four in the morning. Sighing, and cursing jet lag under her breath, Hermione got into bed, to try get some rest. She was just about to doze off, when she heard the machinegun chatter of her host start up in the room next door. Groaning, she tried to block it out.

"I know! He was so totally cute! Haha, I can't even remember what his name was. Something with a 'B'. Like, Brian, no, um… What? Right! It was Blaise. Haha."

At hearing the name of her archenemy's best friend, Hermione sat up ramrod straight in bed.

What the hell! My HOST was partying with Mr. Blaise Zabini, the evil evil Slytherin, and he's 'so totally cute'? Someone out there is out to get me.

"He was really sweet. Well, sweet enough to buy us all those drinks anyway. I don't think he realized how expensive drinks are in 'Gecko'… Hm? ... Yeah… He was acting kinda odd though. Like, he didn't really belong. But whatever. I mean, he did spend a ton on us, and he was an awesome kisser. I wonder if he has friends around… Come again? ... Oh yeah, I think Dawn has his number… Ok, bye, I'll see ya later babe. "

She kissed Blaise Zabini? And he bought them drinks? Did he realize how young they were? What was he doing?

Hermione could hear Cori stumbling around her room, and the occasional curse when she rammed her shin into something.

Bang.

Then a muffled squeal of pain. "Ow ow ow ow bitch oh goddammit, thathurtslikeamotherfuckingbitch."

Raising her eyebrows, Hermione wondered what it was that Cori could have done to herself to illicit that particular phrase, and whether she should go see if she needed help. And being the incredible Samaritan that she was, she unlocked her door, and went and knocked on Cori's.

"Cori? Are… um… are you ok? I some noise and it sounded like you hurt yourself…"

Hermione could hear a muffled 'fuck' and some shuffling, before the door unlocked, and she could see the face of her young and rather inebriated hostess.

"Um… Hermione. I'm sorry about making such a racket. Did I wake you? You want to come in?" She opened the door a little wider.

"Uh, sure Cori."

Stepping inside, Hermione saw for the first time what it looked like inside her hostess' room. Clothes and various accessories hung from every surface, books strewn across the floor and table, photos of friends and family adorning every vertical surface.

Well, at least it smells ok.

"Wow. You ok Cori? I noticed your knee's bleeding."

Cori looked down and dabbed the cut with the Kleenex she was holding. "I'll be fine. I just accidentally knelt on my Swiss Army Knife."

"Oh."

"I'm sorry; did I wake you just now? I know I was being a bit noisy… I just got back a couple minutes ago."

"No, no of course not. I'm just a bit jet lag still, that's all. So where did you go last night… or this morning?"

"Oh, I was just out with friends, in Lan Kwai Fong. We met a couple cute guys and stuff, who bought us drinks. Went dancing, drinking, ya know, the usual. Nothing spectacular." She paused. "Please don't tell my parents."

Flustered at what she should do Hermione took a deep breath. "You know, you shouldn't be doing this. You're what, fifteen? And you go out drinking and picking up random guys for Christ's sake. You're too young to be drinking alcohol in the first place. I've never had an alcoholic drink, other than maybe the odd sip of wine during dinner, but getting drunk at your age? Then getting strangers to buy you drinks? Aren't you at all concerned about your own safety?"

Cori just looked at her. After a couple of seconds, a kind of controlled anger flashed across her face.

"Do you think I don't know the risks? Do you think I'm the worst one out there? I'm considered a fucking prude even, because I'm still a virgin. I know girls that have been having sex since the age of twelve. What do you have to say to that? You need to let up. Go experience something for once. You spend all your time sitting around reading, getting away from the real world. Well, I'm trying to experience the real world. People don't always treat you like the adorably innocent person that you are. I am learning how to deal with that. You couldn't deal with that if your life depended on it. How old are you. Seventeen? Sixteen? I don't know. But tell me, what kind of worthwhile experiences have you had? What have you done to have real and unadulterated fun? Answer me that."

Hermione was speechless. Eyes cast down, she thought to herself 'When was the last time I had real fun? Sure I love to read, but it's not really fun, is it. I never go out with friends. And anyway, it's summer. It's not like they're all going to find out if I do something stupid or out of character… Oh who am I kidding? I'd rather spend my time in a bookstore anyway.'

Raising her eyes wearily, Hermione said, "Well, if it's any condolence, give me some time to get over my jet lag, and I might get out." Not.

Bidding Cori good night, she closed the door and walked back to her room, finally exhausted from being forced to face the truth about her social intelligence.

The next day, Hermione set off, determined to find some evidence of magic in Hong Kong. She wandered up and down the streets in the Central Business District, trying to figure out if she was seeing anything everyone else wasn't, if she could walk by certain areas without suddenly veering off in the opposite direction. Letting her feet carry her around, Hermione lost herself in the hustle and bustle of the city. The sights and sounds were so different to that of London. The greenery in the background, with vast constructions of steel and glass taking the forefront. Her mind began to wander as her feet took her down the streets, up and down unknown areas, and before long, she was totally lost. Walking by a small bookstore, she tried to find someone that looked like they spoke English. A hushed voice caught her attention, as she gazed around for a foreign face.

"Damn it. I couldn't find any reference whatsoever to that hex, and I'm telling you, that bastard is going to have my head if we can't find a way to reverse it on that muggle he cast it on. Why the fuck am I stuck to clean up all his goddamn messes?"

Whirling around, Hermione saw a tall, blond man talking rapidly with a smaller Chinese guy, both looking very flustered. Her heart leaped as she realized they had to be wizards, so she walked up to them.

"Um, excuse me for interrupting, but I'm new here, and I'm looking for some place I can access the magical part of Hong Kong."

The two men looked shocked out of their wits, and Hermione briefly wondered if she had mistaken their conversation, and muggle wasn't just a slang word for something else. But the blond smiled at her suddenly and said "Of course, of course. Forgive me. Magical folk usually come with others that know the area, so they don't need to go around trawling for a way in. Now, you see that little bookstore?" He pointed to the shabby stall that would have passed as anything but. "Well, go inside and talk to the woman. She'll help you get into Cordeillan Street."

Thanking the man and his companion, and elated by her discovery Hermione walked into the little store. Just stepping into the shop, she looked around and noticed that nearly all the books she could see were muggle, and they were as old as the dusty antiques that lined the streets of Hong Kong. Walking further in, however, the books became of higher quality, looking more and more like the regular spell books she was used to dealing with. Many of them were written in Chinese, but a couple here and there were in English or even German and French. Hermione could here a rapid gabbling as someone spoke on some form of communication, and she wondered how exactly it was that she'd be arriving on the so said 'Cordeillan Street'. Pushing even further into the store (it extended even more in than she ever expected), she found an old, wrinkled woman talking to a bowl, obscured behind a badly placed bookshelf. She was talking in a mix of Cantonese and English, only the odd word that Hermione could understand. She caught onto 'people… fly… stock… forgotten…' and then a string of words that were most definitely neither English nor Chinese.

"Uh, ma'am?"

The woman looked up sharply and squinted at Hermione, before seemingly shouting at whoever was on the opposite end of the rice bowl and slamming it upside down.

"What." She frowned deeply at Hermione.

"Um, well, I was told that if I wanted to get to Cordeillan Street, I should come speak with you."

The old woman grinned toothlessly, and replied in impeccable English "Of course. Now. There's a standard procedure I must go through to let you in. Very simple. Just show me your wand, or something that would tell me that you are in the know of any magical community at all. It's a mere petty formality."

Hermione drew her wand out of her bag, and showed the woman.

"Ah… very nice, very nice. Mr. Ollivander, I presume. Yes, I know his work on sight. Excellent wandmaker I dare say. Now, you need to move to the back of the store, and you will find a stone lion. All you do then, is tap it on the head, left paw, right paw, with your wand, then say 'diableret'."

Smiling again, Hermione thanked the woman, and proceeded, finally, to the very back of the store. As told she found a beautifully carved stone lion, and doing as instructed tapped the lion, and said 'diableret'. At first, nothing happened, and Hermione began to wonder if she had perhaps pronounced the password incorrectly, when the lion started to change. It seemed to turn to wood, and then suddenly, the lion became a large square. A large, red square. Two brass knockers morphed out of the wooden surface, and a golden light split the wooden square down the middle. Where once stood a stone lion, now stood a pair of traditional red Chinese double doors.

Taking a deep breath, Hermione took a step forward, and bracing against the doors, she pushed them open.