Ch 3
Mountains were synonymous with safety, at least they had been until her seventh year. But the staggering peaks before her...
America, it seemed, was a wild landscape of ever changing scenes of differentiating degrees of lush green forests and massive grey cities. The roads in which the Dean drove were winding with turns and a steepness that both surprised and excited her.
The bubble of hope was foreign though no less welcome as the large mountains of the Appalachians rose sharply from the horizon. The summits piercing the sky in jagged points, looked so vastly different from those of her childhood.
It was magnificent.
The Dean rambled on nearly the entire drive, his calm low voice soothed the panic from the flights landing. He spoke of the land, the roads, and even pointed out several landmarks. Hermione, all the while silently filed away all of the information, eager to learn as much as she could about this wild country.
Her smile was small but honest as the conversation turned to the school. It had been a sacred Native village, hidden in the mountains.
"Four Winds is ancient, Professor Granger. Older than any written records of my people." Dean Blackfinn's face remained on the road but Hermione had the distinct impression that he was watching her intently. "The tribes of before came together to hide and protect those young people with magic blood."
There was a pause as the road before them became smaller, the dense trees telling of a much less traveled area.
"Yes, I tried to read up but I'm sorry to say there's not much information out there about the Four Winds." Hermione paused, fidgeting with the hem of her blouse. "There's not much of anything on any magical presence in America."
The cab of the small truck was filled with Blackfinn's soft chuckling, and it eased the knot in her stomach at having so little knowledge.
"Well, we do have a bad history with trusting outsiders." His smile was genuine once more, as he spared a quick wink.
"Oh. Right." Of course. How could she have forgotten? The warmth of her face must have been obvious but the Dean simply continued as if she hadn't had a lapse in sense.
"Do not worry, Professor Granger. We are moving ever forward in the universe, so we must do so with our lives, yea?"
The idea filled her mind; stalled all thought of embarrassment and echoed a truth she'd been searching for.
"I do like that." She whispered softly, agreeing and at the same time making a promise to herself. Move forward with the universe.
"And perhaps you will find us more open to outsiders than we have been previously. You are our second foreign professor."
Curiosity nipped at Hermione. She was going to ask about the other teacher and where she hailed from, but the vehicle began to slow. The mountains were obscuring the sun, casting massive mid-evening shadows along the empty road.
"Our entrance is hidden, as I'm sure you've presumed, but it can only be accessed by someone with a particular charm that is granted to them." Blackfinn explained, pulling from his thin Jacket a rather crude looking stick. It wasn't until he stepped down from the vehicle that she noticed a feather and a silver ring around its base.
The side of the road ended with gravel and several feet from there was a never-ending view of densely packed trees, pointed and sharp. The scene screamed foreboding, but she assumed that it was to keep the muggles away.
Blackfinn waved at her to follow, as he stood at the very edge, where the gravel ended and the dirt and moss began.
Cautiously, yet excitedly, Hermione slowly crept forward. The crisp air that entered her lungs was unlike anything she'd ever felt. It breathed life, and something inside her sighed.
But her calm lasted for only a moment.
"You'll need your wand, Professor." Blackfinn's voice was serious, being so unlike their previous interaction, that it made her pause. The knot in her stomach was back, along with the thundering of her heart.
But this was no time for back stepping, not when the unknown meant forward.
Power and security raced through her body as she pulled her wand from the long pocket sewn inside her blazer. The sturdy wood felt just as natural now as it did the day she snatched it up from a lovely old Ollivander wand box.
The noises of the forest quieted and an eerie hush fell. Hermione knew this was a test; that somehow she was to prove something.
It was her turn to move forward and so she did. One foot, then two.
She might have walked further had it not been for the hundreds of birds, too many to comprehend, flying viciously around her. Swarming, circling, but not touching. The beats of their silky black wings kicked up dirt and the wind whipped at her face.
Her hand tightened around her wand but she did not raise it, did not attempt to fight. The crows screeched, a chaotic chorus of screams.
For a moment, it wasn't the birds she heard, but the screams of the war. Of Hogwarts, the death-eaters, the students. Her own.
But the birds were slowing, no longer shrieking. The wind stopped and her nightmare faded with it. Hermione now watched in awe as the birds dissipated, drifting like smoke through the ancient trunks of the forest. It was over so quickly, it might not have happened at all.
Except there was a bird left. Only one. Larger than any raven she'd seen. Older too, with something otherworldly.
He gazed steadily at her, beady eyes studying her soul. He hopped several paces until he was nearly on top of her foot, eyes never leaving hers.
"Hello, old one." The words fell from her mouth as if they were always there, waiting to be spoken.
The only other sound was her heart, thrumming loudly through layers of skin and cloth.
And then quite suddenly, with no warning, the Crow took flight. His massive wings covered her face in sheer darkness and then there was a sharp pain on her skull.
When her eyes opened, Blackfinn stood next to her, smiling largely. His own black eyes were old and wise, patient and kind. Hermione smiled back still confused but delighted.
"The Ókȯhkeve-ho is our guardian. The Crow Chief. He needs a piece of you to open the entrance."
Hermione nodded, the hair that had been plucked from her head would allow her passage into the sacred lands. Clever bit of safe keeping.
This monumental moment was not lost on her and she felt pride in having been accepted by the ancient creature. The landscape was alive once more with chirping of bugs and other small rodents and she realized that the forest didn't look as intimidating as it had moments ago.
"Well, as us American's say, we are burning daylight. Better get up there before full dark." Her companion called, already climbing back into the sleek black vehicle. She quickly followed with shaking knees.
Hermione felt a shiver race down her spine as, within moments, the vehicle passed through the magical barrier protecting the school from the muggle world. Trees seemed to bend for them as the headlights lay a bright yellow path. There was no discernable road but still the truck drove on as smooth as cement and soon she noticed that the foliage had thinned.
Just barely visible in the last bit of sunlight was a large sprawling valley below, filled with lush greenery, ancient trees larger than any she had ever seen, and a backdrop of the mountains she was already falling in love with. Amid the wide basin, Hermione could make out several buildings, now darkened by the mountains shadows.
"What you may not know about Four Winds academy is that our history is rich with many different peoples and varieties of magic. You will be able to see the vast difference in the structures of our student housing." Blackfinn explained as they approached the buildings in question.
Hermione's excitement grew as too did the buildings. Even in the light dusk, the difference in style between the four smaller structures was obvious.
"Little is known of the Four Winds academy in the outside world, but we have a rich history. The Anishinaabe founded this school as a hidden place for those who wished to learn magic during a time when our land and way of life were being taken from us. For more than a hundred years we taught what you might know as traditional Native American magic. This type of magic is mostly associated with healing of the mind, body, and soul through rituals and herbs, but there is much much more to it as you will soon learn," Blackfinn described as they drew closer to the first of the student houses.
The one-story structure was old; massive wooden planks, stained by time, were stacked neatly in a perfect rectangle. The roof might have been made of the same planks, yet was now unseen under heavy moss and in some areas, netted gardens. A fire on each side lit the insides and Hermione could see students moving about, though she couldn't see them clearly.
"I though the students had a summer break?" Hermione asked, the sight confusing her.
"They do, but like some of our Professors, they may choose to stay over the summer. The older students work on the grounds. We offer year-round protection."
The idea sent chills down her spine. She knew that not that long ago many magical folk were hunted and killed simply for who they were. This place was, and still is, utterly important.
"More than a hundred years after we settled here to teach our young, witches from Salem came to us seeking sanctuary. They too were being threatened, as you may know. We invited them to learn our ways and they in turn taught us a magic we knew next to nothing of. Theirs's came from Europe and closely resembles what you learned at Hogwarts," He continued as they slowly rolled past the gorgeous colonial home.
The building was simple and lovely, if not modest with tall pillars giving it impressive heights. Flat darkly painted walls were contrasted with rows of neat white shutters. In each of the several dozen windows, white curtains hung, some with a soft yellow glow indicating life.
"During this time we also invited our western brethren, the Na-Dene, to join us. But it wasn't until the expeditions to the west began in earnest that they truly became a part of our hidden world. Their land was being invaded as ours had been, and they too sought refuge. By now we had developed a discreet reputation as a safe-haven for the magical community. The Na-Dene came to us and with them brought yet another form of magical practice. They relied heavily on spiritual guidance, meditation, and divination."
The next building was smaller but no less impressive with sandy colored walls that seemed to round at the top. Rather than looking out of place, the large oval structure seemed to fit neatly in, sitting next to it's strange and wonderful neighbors. Blue smoke rose lazily through several pillars, disappearing in the late evening sky and there was a glow of warm fires indicating that there were students busy inside.
"By now, we were an unofficial school. Magical folk from all over the country came to us to learn the various types of magic that we taught. It wasn't until after the civil war, however, that we truly became what is now known as Four Winds. When the African slaves came to the American south, they brought with them many different magics. Over the years, the creole and voodoo folk unified, as did their magic. They were a fairly small community and after gaining their freedom, wished to join our unofficial school for the safety, as well as the knowledge offered. Their type of magic, hoodoo as most people call, is very much based on the body."
Hermione grinned at the next lodging, already feeling the life that vibrated throughout it. Music rang clearly from the open windows where charms and talismans hung with brightly colored strings. The structure was less of a single building and more like several different, oddly shaped shacks, all inter-connected by a single, long, wrap around porch. Dozens of chairs were out, some occupied with students of different ages. A few were practicing magic, while others read by candle light. And just a couple sat and watched the sky with their feet tapping along to the drum beats that came from inside.
"So there you have a brief history of the Four Winds Academy, and a better understanding of why there is so little known of us," Blackfinn finished as they drove past the student's dorms. "We were founded to keep the children safe."
"It's incredible." Hermione sighed, feeling full on knowledge and understanding.
Dean Blackfinn chuckled as road curved around impressive buildings. The school itself was much like the students living quarters in that it was a conglomeration of the different cultures.
"And here, just over the creek, is the Professors living quarters." The truck pulled over before reaching the small river, however. What Hermione assumed was the main hall sat brightly lit beside them. "If you are up for it, I'd like for you to come and eat with me and the other professors staying here for the summer. I've told them we have a new educator but didn't tell them you were a foreigner. I like surprises."
The Dean winked, pulling his smooth hat from off the dash and planting it atop his head. Hermione knew rest would do her well, what with the rough flight and the nerves but she simply couldn't say no.
"Will they be angry?" Hermione enquired nervously as the Dean opened her cab door.
"Not at all. In fact, Professor Black was welcomed with open arms."
That name, no matter how many times she'd since heard it, always made her heart stutter. The Black family name caused her so much mental distress that it was instinct now to flinch from it, though she kept it to herself.
And yet, it wasn't an uncommon name. Many families had a surname of Black and if the other professor were from, say Spain, she or he might not even be related to the family that had caused her such pain.
Hermione chided herself on her foolishness as the pair climbed the steps that led to the main hall. Inside she could hear a dozen voices, low and calm. The smell of food and fire calmed her panic some, allowing her mind to clear before they entered.
The hall looked like an enormous cabin from the inside with warm planks of wood stacked from floor to ceiling. The hearth was impressive as well, heating the room to a comfortable degree, while the long open windows brought in the sweet evening air.
A welcome was shouted as they entered, and she had only a moment to brace herself as the crowd moved forward. So many faces, all pressing in, taking her hand with hospitable words. She wouldn't remember their names, nor faces. Not from lack of trying.
No. It would be because she had caught sight of the lightest blond hair and eyes of silver.
It would be because said eyes widened in panic once they found hers.
It would be because the tormentor of her youth quietly and quickly escaped the hall as the onslaught of Professors welcomed her.
And it would be because she somehow had managed to politely excuse herself before they had all finished, so she could dash from the front steps to pursue the imposter she knew was Draco Malfoy.