A/N: This story and I are not dead, I promise. The italics when Fleur speaks mean that she is speaking in French. As always, reviews are appreciated and I hope you all enjoy.
Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter no matter I much I want to.
Chapter 4: Introductions
Fleur plopped down on the bench at the Ravenclaw table with an audible groan. She nearly just about slammed her pot of bouillabaisse on to the wood surface, making her sister, Gabrielle, jump in surprise.
"Merlin, I'm such an idiot," Fleur sighed as she blew away some strands of hair from her eyes.
"Ah, she has become self-aware." Gabrielle grinned, poking at Fleur's arm while the older Delacour sister shot daggers with her eyes. "What's wrong? Let me guess, does it have anything to do with the redhead you've been staring at the entire dinner?"
Fleur slapped her sister's hand away. "I wasn't staring, Gabrielle. But yes. I suppose it has everything to do with the redhead." She buried her head in her arms, muffling the last few words.
"So, does this redhead have a name?" said Gabrielle, leaning in closer to her sister's now armadillo-like form.
"Alexis. Her name is Alexis."
"Oh, that's a pretty name. But I don't get it; you never get this flustered when talking to someone. You usually just end up making the other person a wreck, stuttering and whatnot." She said, waving a french fry around before popping it into her mouth. "Unless—" The french fry fell out of her mouth as she gasped. "No way. Holy shit, Fleur! Are you serious? Is this for real?" Gabrielle vigorously shook her sister's shoulders. She only received a groan in response. "Ah, this is so exciting, Fleur! Grandmother and mother would be so proud! Oh, I bet they can't wait to hear about this; I'm going to fetch myself an owl as soon as dinner's over. So, did she say yes? Are you guys going to get married now? Ooh! Can I be your maid of honor, Fleur? Pretty please?" She stopped suddenly when her sister popped up and held her face in both hands.
"Gabrielle, calm down! You're making a scene! And no, no, and maybe if you're nice."
"So… you're not getting married."
"No, of course not; I barely even know her. I just introduced myself back there." Gabrielle crossed her arms.
"Then why are you this upset?"
"Because I made a complete mess of it! I was supposed to woo her off her feet like a proper Delacour, but I just ended up asking her for the damned bouillabaisse!" She pointed towards the offending dish. "Merlin, I've never felt like this before; She just makes me so nervous, and I can't even think straight when she's in front of me."
"Awww, Fleur has a crush! I'm sure you'll be just fine, Fleur. She'd be blind to not fall head over heels for you. You are a Delacour, after all. It'll all work out eventually."
Fleur let out another sigh. "Merlin, I hope so."
"Hey, when you're done ogling the French exchange student can we go to the library?" Brook asked, cup of coffee in hand.
"Okay, first of all, I'm not ogling her," Alexis countered. "I'm just uh, appreciating her beauty. You know, like an art exhibit."
"Is there a difference?" Brook raised her eyebrow, scoffing.
"Of course there is! One sounds a whole lot less creepy than the other."
"And second of all?"
"Oh yeah, second of all, why the library?"
"Research. I'd like to know more about the place we'll be living in for the next year or so. I'm sure they have a blueprint or something useful in there."
Alexis rolled her eyes and slung her bag over her shoulder. "Brook, classes haven't even started yet and you already want to go into full researcher mode." She stood up and made her way out of the Great Hall with Brook closely in tow. "You're such a nerd. Why do I even hang out with you?"
"Because I know your coffee order by heart," Brook answered, a wide grin plastered on her face. "Plus, you'd lose a tutor who works her ass off to make sure you get good grades. Oh, and I've been told that I'm extremely charming by many. Shall I go on?"
"Yeah, yeah, I get it: Brooklyn Wayne is amazing."
"What can I say?"
"Whatever, I think we're close. Keep up, Shortstack,"
"You know I'm only an inch shorter than you, right?" Brook replied, quickening her pace to catch up. The two continued with brisk strides in comfortable silence, not counting the clicks of their shoes against the stone flooring. Alexis then suddenly stopped in her tracks and her hand shot out to grab Brook's arm. "Ah! What the hell, Lex?" She swung her free arm around in an effort to regain her balance.
"Wait. I've seen this painting before. Like two minutes ago." She said, her brows furrowed in confusion.
"Are you trying to say that we're lost?"
"Yeah. We're lost."
"Shit. Lost on the way to find a map of the place. How fucking ironic." Brook ran her fingers through her raven black locks. "So what now? Just about everyone is probably still in the Great Hall. I can't believe we managed to get ourselves lost in what, six or seven minutes? God, that must be a record."
"Do you need any help?" A crystal clear voice rang out through the hallway. The duo turned their heads to find a young Gryffindor making her way towards them. Brook instantly recognized who it was. Hermione Jean Granger: The brightest witch of her age.
Her chocolate curly hair was unmistakable. Her precise posture as she walked. And with each step, an air of confidence that was so… Hermione Granger. Exactly how Brook imagined her to be. So, maybe her files and homework hadn't failed her after all.
"Actually, yes. Could you show us where the library might be?" Brook asked.
"Of course, I was just heading there myself. Follow me." The two Americans trailed slightly behind their new guide. "Hogwarts can be confusing at times, especially for someone who hasn't been here before. But I'm sure you two will get used to it in no time." She added before stopping next to two large oak doors that nearly stretched to the ceiling. "And here we are. Normally the doors are open all day, but it looks like Madam Pince hasn't gotten back from the feast." Brook eyed the doors and took a step forward. "Oh, the doors are extremely heavy, so—" With one quick flick of the wrist, the doors creaked open, revealing the library that they held inside. "Or you could do that." Hermione smiled.
"Thanks for the help." Brook said curtly with a nod and promptly walked deeper into the library.
Hermione turned to the redhead next to her. "Well, that was rather abrupt."
Alexis sighed with apologetic eyes. "Sorry, she tends to do that sometimes. Actually, pretty often. But really, thanks for your help. I think we would have been lost for forever if you hadn't come to our rescue."
"It's no problem. I don't believe I ever got your name."
"Alexis Thompson," She stuck out her hand, which Hermione gladly shook.
"Hermione Granger, it's a pleasure to meet you, Alexis."
"Likewise. And that," she pointed at Brook who was already carrying five books towards one of the tables. "is Brooklyn Wayne. Or Brook for short."
"Like the city?"
"Like the city." Alexis affirmed.
"I couldn't help but notice that the Ilvermorny students flew in by helicopter. Isn't that an odd choice of transportation for a wizarding school?" Hermione asked. The question burned in her mind for the entire day ever since the students arrived.
"Well, the American wizarding world doesn't normally use helicopters, but ours in particular was donated by a generous benefactor and our faculty enchanted it for lodging. It wouldn't be used unless for extended trips like this."
"I see. And the generous benefactor is Wayne Enterprises, I assume?" She asked with an eyebrow raised.
"Yup. Courtesy of Miss Brooklyn Wayne over there." The pile had now grown by four more books. She checked her watch. Nine thirty. "Hey, Brook?" She called out. Brook's head perked up from flipping through pages. "I'm going to get some shut-eye, you good here?" Brook responded with a thumbs-up. Alexis turned to Hermione. "Sorry for cutting this short, but I have an early class tomorrow."
"Oh no worries. Just go back the way we came and take two lefts and a right and then you'll see the front entrance."
"Awesome. Thanks again, Hermione. It was nice meeting you." Alexis waved as she walked through the doors. "See you around!" Hermione waved back. Once the redhead disappeared down the hallway, Hermione turned her attention to Brook who was furiously sketching and scribbling something on parchment. Hermione cautiously made her way to the table and peered over Brook's shoulder.
"Is that the Hogwarts floor plan?" Brook jumped and dropped her quill on the floor.
"Fucking shit! You scared the crap out of me!" Brook was breathing heavily.
"Sorry, I didn't mean to scare you, but it is the Hogwarts floor plan that you're sketching, is it not?"
"Yes, it is." She was still catching her breath. "Fuck me, I almost had a heart attack."
"Sorry. Again. But if you wanted to know the layout of the castle, I'd be more than happy to give a quick tour if you'd like." Hermione offered.
Brook thought about it for a moment. "I think I'd like that," she replied, a tiny sliver of a smile forming on her face. "Brooklyn Wayne." She offered her hand.
"Hermione Granger."
"So, over to the right is the potions classroom." Hermione explained. They had gone through Brook's schedule, visiting each classroom in order. As she checked through Brook's schedule she noticed that they shared both History of Magic and the new Defense Against the Dark Arts class that combined both 4th years and 5th years. With all the turmoil the Defense Against the Dark Arts post had brought in the last few years, it didn't surprise Hermione that this year ushered in yet another change in class format. In all honesty she had never heard of Professor Moody, but his seemingly autonomous glass eye gave her all the proof that she needed to conclude that this year's class would not be the "normal" class that she had been hoping for. It wasn't that she particularly disliked the adventures that usually followed the Dark Arts professors, not at all. In fact, she sometimes found them exhilarating to an extent. But she was concerned for the safety of her friends and herself. Mostly Harry. And with the reemergence of the Death Eaters during the Quidditch World Cup, the threat of danger loomed larger than ever before.
"The class itself is taught by Professor Snape, who is also the head of the Slytherin House." Hermione continued. "The Slytherin House members' quarters are in the dungeon, which most people find unnerving, but I, for one, don't mind it too much. While it might be a bit creepy, its history and the Hogwarts history in general are just amazing and fascinating. I mean the castle itself is centuries old! Think of all the brilliant minds and stories that walked through these very halls!" She made a grand sweeping gesture with both of her arms, and quickly placed them by her sides. "Sorry, I tend to get carried away with this type of stuff."
Brook faintly smiled in response. "No, you're fine. I can't say that I share your enthusiasm for history though. I've never been much of a history person." She grimaced as she thought back to those long, grueling lectures about the Salem Witch Trials. "I… actually almost failed History of Magic at Ilvermorny because I didn't go to half of the lectures last year. That's why I'm taking the class with your year. It's my headmaster's sick idea of punishment by making me retake a class that he knows I hate." Hermione's face fell a little as Brook used hate to describe one of her favorite classes. Brook noticed. "Not that there's anything wrong with the material! Or liking it!" She added quickly. "It was probably the way the teacher conveyed the information." She ran her fingers through her hair while trying to think of some remedy.
"I understand; it's not for everybody. Lord knows I've tried to get Harry and Ron interested the subject for years."
"Potter, right?"
"Yes, it turns out that teenage boys are more keen to discuss the latest Quidditch game than the great wizards of the Middle Ages, even if he is the Boy Who Lived." Hermione slightly tiled her head to the side, perplexed. "I didn't realize that Americans knew about Harry."
"Oh don't underestimate how fast word travels across the pond, Miss Granger." Brook remarked, a trace of a knowing smile on her face.
"Please, call me Hermione. I'm not nearly old enough to be called Miss Granger by someone about my age."
"Hermione it is then."
"Does that mean that people in America know about me then, too?"
"Not as much as Harry, but some will recognize your name if it's mentioned in the same context as him."
"Oh, I see." Hermione trailed off, falling silent for a few steps.
"Something bothering you?"
"No, it's just that," Hermione chose her words carefully. "It's an odd feeling: knowing that people in another continent know of my friends and I and what we've done for the past few years."
"Well, you can't expect to achieve what you have at your age and not expect to be in the limelight. You are the 'Brightest Witch of Her Age' after all." Hermione blushed furiously at the mention of her unofficial title.
"I didn't actually—"
"Pick that nickname? Yeah, I know. I can tell that you're not as conceited to do that despite what certain outlets have folks believe."
"It's that Rita Skeeter, isn't it? What an awful woman! Hasn't she got anything better to do than write hit pieces on students?"
"Hermione, you do realize that this comes with the territory of being one of the brightest young witches Britain has seen in decades?" Hermione took a sudden interest in her shoes. "Not to mention you're the best friend of Harry Potter."
"What about you?" Hermione looked straight into Brook's grey eyes.
"What about me?"
"You must have experience being in the public eye. In case you forgot, you are the head of Wayne Enterprises."
"It was the helicopter, wasn't it? I keep forgetting to take the logo off."
"I mean never mind the brightest witch of her age, you run a multi-billion dollar business empire, for goodness sake! How do you manage it?"
"I'm not as impressive as you make me seem. I have some of the most experienced and competent advisors around me to guide me in many areas." Brook shrugged. "To suggest that I'm the reason for the company's success is inaccurate. I'm lucky to have such a great team."
"You know, for one of the richest people on the planet, I expected you to be much less humble than you are."
"I get that. I'm just giving credit where credit's due." The two walked in silence until they reached the end of the hallway near the base of the flight of stairs that lead to the Gryffindor dorms. During the walk, Hermione couldn't help but look at the mysterious American in a new light. Despite her distant exterior, she could see cracks of warmth in the fifth year. Given her social standing and immense wealth, Hermione certainly didn't expect her to be, well, normal. In all honesty, she was fully prepared for Brook to be a gigantic, self-entitled asshole. She was pleasantly surprised by how well the night had gone, to say the least.
"Well, this is where the tour ends, I suppose. The Gryffindor dorms and commons are just up the stairs here." She motioned at the limestone set of stairs. "And if you take the hallway to the left and continue straight you can find where your helicopter is parked. I hope you found this a little helpful."
"Oh yes, undoubtedly. Now I actually have a clue of where the hell I'm going tomorrow. So, thank you."
"No problem." Hermione flashed Brook a brilliantly warm smile. "See you tomorrow?"
"See you tomorrow." The corner of her mouth curled upwards ever so slightly.