"Are you absolutely certain about this?" asked Severus watching his daughter pack.

"You signed me up for this, Dad," Hermione sighed making eye-contact and setting a stack of note books gingerly in her suitcase.

"I know, love," he leaned against the wall and folded his arms over his chest. "But I didn't consult you beforehand. I wouldn't blame you. I can say you changed your mind, that you fell ill, that you-"

"Have never looked forward to anything more in my life?" Hermione stared up at him, her face and tone both serious, her eyes seeming to stare into his very soul. "It's thirty-one days, Dad. One month for the next five years, I can do that. It'll all be fine."

Hermione was nearly twelve, but looked younger with her small stature, round olive face under a mountain of bushy hair and large brown eyes that so often stared at him imploringly as of late. This wasn't the first time they had this conversation since school let out. He didn't like the idea of sending her out to another continent by herself. At least not now that the threat to her has passed. She'd been through a lot this past year, but she was still a child, his child...sending her away went from a solution to a problem to the problem.

Perhaps he worried too much, but looking at Hermione he could hardly imagine her fairing well. Despite being sorted into Gryffindor, she had a fragile and nervous disposition, one that made her prone to illness and nasty behaviours like digging her nails into her hands or biting her lip until she drew blood, she hated crowds, she obsessed over her work to the point that she'd even forget to eat or sleep. Being on her own in Japan was not going to helpful in that respect. He couldn't imagine it would do her any good at all.

"You want me to write a referral for her to go to Mahoukatoro?" McGonagall smirked. "I'm more than happy to, but I have to say, Severus, I can't believe you agreed to let her go. You keep such a tight grip on the poor girl, this will be so good for her!"

He hoped that the wizened head mistress was right about it being good for her, but he doubted it. And had Hermione not said things like that, he would have put a stop to the nonsense long before now. But...she did look forward to it so. The girl floated around their living quarters for the past week with a rare gleam in her eye and a smile on her face. And Headmaster Yamato assured him, multiple times, that she would be perfectly safe. He wanted to believe it.

"Actually," he corrected. "Japanese wizards attend school until they're twenty. The last three years are more targeted toward a career path, but they are mandatory. So you'd be there for the next seven Julys. It's probably a strange custom for a British witch, so if you don't want to commit to such a program, I understand."

"I want to go, Dad," Hermione sighed. "Even after knowing that, I still want to go. Am I angry that you signed me up for summer school until I'm twenty without even talking to me? I mean, I should be, and I'd be lying if I said I wasn't a little disappointed, but I'm going to Japan. Japan! The idea is exhilarating!"

That girl would have been leaping in excitement if she were simply going to London. Her little quill-mate might have made Mahoukatoro preferable, but unlike the other students at Hogwarts, the idea of leaving filled her with an almost incomparable joy...or a case of the nerves. Hermione had some trouble picking a mood and sticking with it.

"I had a feeling you might say that," he sighed handing her a small, black leather bound journal. "I've enchanted this so we can communicate without the week, or sometimes longer, delay from message by bird half way across the globe. I expect you to write me daily."

"Daily?" Hermione blinked. "But there's like a-"

"Nine hour time difference?" he asked. "I'm aware. If you write me in the evening, I'll be receiving it in the morning. Completely manageable."

Hermione nodded and gingerly took the book. "Yessir..."

"When you're older you'll understand why I'm asking this," he said resting a hand on the top of her head. "Japan isn't exactly the continent, now is it? If something were to happen, it could be week before I hear about it."

"But what do you expect to happen?" Hermione sighed sitting on her bed. "Mahoukatoro is almost as safe as Hogwarts, and Yamato-sama Sensei has assured you he'd be keeping an eye on me. I couldn't find danger even if I wanted to."

"We both know that isn't true, Hermione Elizabeth," he countered. "The danger you put yourself into time and time again this past year proves you can. You nearly died, Hermione."

"I know..." she sighed tilting her head and offering a weak smile. "I'll write every evening, Dad. But I promise, you won't have anything to worry about."

"That's not exactly a promise you can make now, is it?" he asked sitting next to her and resting his hand on her head again.

"I, erm," she took a deep breath. "No, I guess not."

"But you can promise you won't be intentionally sniffing around anything dangerous while you're there."

"That I can," she gave a weak laugh. "I have absolutely no intention of a repeat performance of May."

"That makes both of us," he got up and scanned the tiny bedroom. "Now, today is the last day I can send Archimedes out in time to cancel are you absolutely certain that you want to do this?"

"Yes, Dad," Hermione still gave a weak smile, but he could hear the exasperation in her voice, and he felt she was straining not to roll her eyes. "I want to go!"

"You look pale," her father observed as Hermione ran through her list.

"I'm not sick, Dad," she sang with an eye roll.

"Let me check," he strode over to her and pressed a hand to her forehead. "You do seem a bit cold..." he moved his hand to her cheeks and neck. "Now, I know we've talked about the eyerolling, Hermione."

Loads of times, she thought but resisted to roll her eyes again. "I'm fine, Dad, honestly!"

"The tone, Hermione Elizabeth," he said in a rather detached automatic voice as he continued to check for any excuse to say she was too ill to go.

Hermione's flesh was cold, and she probably did look pale as she barely slept the last two nights from a mixture of excitement and nerves. She really did want to go, but now that it the day was upon her, she was also worried. What if Hiro didn't like her when they'd actually met? What if she couldn't pronounce any of the words correctly? Or messed up with her chopsticks in the dining hall? What if all the teachers hated the girl who got into the program by pure nepotism? What if Kaori and all the other girls hated her? What if Hiro didn't like her? Wait, that was the first concern she had...I'm not fussing over some boy I've never met! Hermione told herself. But if his reception of her was anything different than that in the letters she received every week or so than it would devastate her...No, you idiot! You're going to Japan! I want to go and I am thrilled about this! And Hiro is not the only reason I am!

"Apparating so far will be taxing on both of us, so you'll likely feel a bit off colour when you arrive," her father said tucking a strand of hair behind her ear. "You'll want to be prepared for that. Do you remember last year when we went to get your school things and you asked me if Diagon Alley is always so crowded?"

"Yes," Hermione nodded cautiously.

"Muggle Tokyo is much, much worse. Don't talk to anyone if they don't ask for you by name. It'll be a bit better where it's night, but it'll still be crowded enough that it'll be very easy to get lost. Of all places to send you beforehand, muggle Tokyo!" he spat before continuing. "Yamato described himself and his daughter-in-law in his letter to you, yes? Good, she'll be taking you into her home where Headmaster Yamato will bring you to the school. You'll be jet-lagged, you should take a sleeping draught upon arrival so you can be more aware during your orientation the next morning. It's going to be much, much hotter than you're used to..."

Her father continued on like this for a while. It was as if he were trying to address every possible problem that could come up while she was away. She knew why, he was usually paranoid, and her involvement in claiming the stone before Voldemort could have only justified his paranoia in his mind. He couldn't convince her to stay home with him, so this, and the instant-messaging journal, was the best he could do.

"You will...?" he raised his eyebrows.

"Not speak to a soul in Muggle Tokyo, listen to Yamato-sama Sensei and the other professors, not stray from my guides, follow their customs (she was so looking forward to taking part in them that she didn't have to be told!), focus on my studies and write you every evening after classes."

"Just in case you get separated from myself or the Yamatos," her father sighed. "If you perform magic in self-defense no one will hold you accountable. Be ready to do so if you need to. Remember those five spells I taught you?"

"Expelliarmus, Protego, the temporary blinding hex, muffilatio, and stupefy."

"And if you run into trouble?"

"Sheild myself from attacks, disarm my attacker, blind them, ensure they can't hear me and run like hell," she recited. "All else fails attempt to stun them and scream 'fire' to summon witnesses."

He did not seem even slightly relieved by her recitation of his protocols. He stared at her, his skin paler than usual and his grip on her shoulder tightened, as if he were the one going away to a foreign country for the first time. Hermione recognized that this was not just her first time being away from her father, but his first time being away from her probably since she had been born. Given his paranoia, it can't have been easy. And she couldn't shake the feeling that if wasn't for the guilt he felt he would have never allowed this. This would be good for both of them...she hoped.

"But of course I won't need any of that," she offered, forcing a smile. "Everything is going to turn out fine, Dad. I'll write you the instant I'm at the school. Nothing is going to happen." I might be more convincing if I believed it... Every instance of her father describing the world as cold and disinterested at best and cruel and dangerous at its worst filled her mind. Even after having made friends, some part of her still believed the rhetoric he'd fed her her whole life.

"One can hope," he said, unconvinced before placing a hand on her head. "I'm still not convinced you're ready for something like this..."

I'm not sure it's me who's not ready, Dad... she thought but looked down realizing her body language wasn't exactly projecting confidence. She was digging at her hands again. She immediately unclasped her hands and straightened her spine before attempting another assuring smile. "You didn't raise an idiot, Dad. I am taking every necessary precaution. Nothing will go wrong. I have everything completely under control." I have to...

"Assurances I've heard before, love," he sighed. "But as much as I'd like to, I don't believe I can keep you here forever. One o'clock, it'll be ten in Tokyo. You have absolutely everything you need?"

"Yes, Dad, I have everything I need." It was only the hundredth time he asked that day. "Are you going to be okay?"

This time he offered a weak smile. "Of course I will be fine. It's you I'm worried about. At least I'll get to see you off. Are you ready?"

"I am never going to get used to that!" Hermione groaned emerging from the alley way behind the building trying to shake the spinning. "I swear-"

She stopped dead in her tracks. Bright lights hanging from poles and wires or casting out from a hundred windows bathed the packed streets in artificial lights of colours she wasn't even sure she had seen before. People walked about, almost shoulder to shoulder, she didn't know how some of them didn't knock into each other. Voices echoed in the square, wires hummed and the cars careened down the street, starting and stopping sometimes accompanied by the long drone of a horn. Was this how muggles lived? This... this was horrifying. So much commotion.

The world spun around her and her heart pounded in her ears. Pins and needles stabbed at her feet as she tried to move forward, and she couldn't stop herself from jumping the crosswalk beeped over head. She didn't exactly long the familiar grey walls she grew up with in, but she was close to it. She'd never seen so many people, lights, had been unaware that cars made sounds and she was certain she had forgotten all her Japanese.

It's just a bit of noise, you coward! Hermione thought bitterly and braced herself for her father's gloating 'I told you so's which she'd be stuck with until they reached Yamato-san's.

"It's alright, love," her father said taking her hand. "It's just a crossing light. Mrs. Yamato's building can't be far. Come along."

No "I told you so?" Hermione thought quietly following him, clinging to his arm as if she were six rather than nearly twelve. Who are you and what have done with my father?!

Hermione and her father weaved through the tightly pack sidewalks, Hermione muttering "Sumimasen!" with a bow the countless times she bumped into someone, or someone bumped into her. She wanted the pavement to swallow her when she felt the eyes of the locals on her, probably beholding the ridiculous foreign girl with contempt. Don't be so narcissistic, they have more important things to worry about than a stupid gaijin girl!

They stood in the entry way of the apartment building and Hermione double checked her letter to ensure she pressed the right button. She took in a deep breath, pressed the button, and to her chagrin the loud buzzing drone gave her a start. She nearly died to a giant cerebus, devil's snare and murder keys (she refused to call them anything else!) Were chimes, buzzing and crowds really going to frighten her?

Her father rested a comforting hand on her head and sighed. "How are you feeling, little girl?"

"Fine. I-I'm fine," she said, barely above a whisper. Get a hold of yourself! Shit!

"In that case," he sighed. "I did tell you this would all be quite overwhelming."

"There it is!" Hermione rolled her eyes, but couldn't help but smirk. "I was wondering when you'd start. For a moment I was convinced you were a changeling."

"I'm not a complete monster, love," he said."Of course I was going to wait until you were able to breathe again. Though I see I failed to put a stop to those ridiculous rumours before you started. I'm sorry you had to hear them. At least that won't be a concern for you here."

"Just tell me I wasn't bought and sold for a single head or lettuce and I'll be thrilled!" she laughed. And that I wasn't plucked from a rubbish bin behind a take-away...

"A testament to the originality of your peers, Hermione," he sighed. "I can't believe the rumour literally plagiarizing a muggle fairy tale is still flying around."

"So no kernel or truth in that one," she laughed. "I knew I was worth at least two heads of lettuce!"

"At least," he agreed mussing her hair.

"Konbenwa!" a small voice greeted with a bow.

They turned to the lady at the door who let them in. Looking exactly like Yamato-sama Sensei described; she was slender, on the taller side for a Japanese woman, with dark brown eyes and long black hair tied in a single braid she slung over her shoulder, looking to be around the right age (mid-thirties). What he didn't describe was her delicate heart shaped face and her inviting smile. She was warm, inviting and so beautiful.

You think every new woman or girl you meet is beautiful... Hermione scorned herself knowing it came from a place of deep insecurity and probably the little exposure she was allowed to enjoy before starting school.

Hermione and her father bowed in return. She greeted Yamato-san and introduced the two of them.

Yamato Minako lead the two of them into her flat, and Hermione was shocked. Not a mark could be found on the pristine white walls , the wooden floor hadn't a scratch, and her living room opposite a small kitchen separated by a long counter, could have passed for either a miniature library or cat rescue. A cat-tree sat between the gaps of either long, tall shelf and two cats sat on each, while a yellow maine coon perched on the couch and a very fat long haired calico with folded ears ran to greet them before they could even finish taking their shoes off.

Six cats in one small apartment, how did she keep everything so clean? A question Hermione dismissed as soon as she asked herself as the fat calico leapt into her arms, purring. "Kawaii neko!" Hermione squealed rubbing her neck to an amused expression from Yamato Minako and a curious expression from her father.

"Fuku misses Kaori and Hiro. Come in! My father-in-law will pick you up soon," she urged them in. "I'll put on the tea. British people drink black tea normally, yeah?"

"Hi, arigato, Yamato-san," Hermione nodded, following her into the kitchen, letting Fuku's purrs travel through her tense body.

"You're so lucky to teach at the school she boards at," Yamato Minako sighed addressing her father.

"Sumimasen,Yamato-san," he said slowly with a bow. "My Japanese is not..."

"English then?" she said switching to the language with a smile. "We all have to learn English in school...but forgive my bad speaking!"

Bad speaking? You're English is on par with my Japanese... Hermione gulped, sitting down and still clinging to the cat.

"It's much better than my Japanese," her father shrugged. "I'm-" he abandoned the thought, perhaps uncertain how the language barrier would affect whatever he was about to say.

Hermione watched the two adults make stilted conversation and wondered about that first thing she said to her father before realizing he didn't speak Japanese. Yamato Minako was a muggle, completely detached from her children's world, her husband died years ago, and Hiro and Kaori were gone eleven months of the year, and she never re-married. She seemed sweet, so she thought she must have friends, but looking around the apartment and the six cats, she wondered if all Yamato Minako had were her children. Such a lonely and sad existence.

She wondered if it was the same for her father briefly. He didn't exactly have friends among the staff...and she'd never seen him leave to meet anyone without direct orders from Dumbledore. Was he lonely with only her for company? Hermione pushed the thought from her mind before it could make her feel guilty for leaving. All children left their parents, this was normal, and she wasn't going to have it ruined because she pitied her father for imagined circumstances.

A loud pop interrupted an awkward silence between the three of them, sending Fuku to her perch in a calico blur! The sound was clearly someone apparating into the room, but it still made Hermione leap from her chair and her father throw an arm around her shoulders turning to the new figure in the room.

"Good evening, Ito-san," Yamato Minako beamed before bowing.

"Evening, Minako-chan," replied an elderly Japanese man with a very long white beard, hair and mustache in golden robes. That must've been Yamato-sama Sensei.

Shit! First time meeting a superior but it's evening! Do I say Ohayo or Konbenwa? Hermione bowed silently wondering if not saying anything was better or worse. The silence continued. Hermione took in a deep breath, still bowed she tried to speak. "O-Kon-hey-benyo! (What the hell was that?!). Gah! Gomenesai!"

"You're not the first student in the program to be tripped up by that, Hermione," he smiled patiently, his hazel eyes twinkling in a familiar knowing fashion. Don't call Yamato-sama Sensei Japanese Dumbledore... she scolded herself.

"Thank you," she bowed, still feeling humiliated.

Once again, Hermione watched as adults talked about her, but Yamato-sama Sensei's English was much better than Yamato Minako's, so the converstaion was much less stilted. She stood in silence as her father painted her as grateful and hardworking, but also extremely fragile. His thanks for suggesting and allowing her to take part in the program seemingly undercut by what seemed to be his trying to convince the headmaster she was made of glass. Perhaps that was the price she paid for leaving.

"Hermione," her father placed a hand on her head. "Remember everything we've talked about before leaving?"

"Yessir," she nodded.

He held out his other hand with all five fingers, Hermione caught his meaning. He didn't want to advocate she use any of harmful spells in front of the headmaster, but he wanted to know she knew them in case something happened on school grounds. She nodded.

Hermione had expected meeting and speaking with the Yamatos would have made him feel more confident in his decision, but she could still see the apprehension in his face as the time to send her off was at hand. This would have been so much easier if they had said their goodbyes in Britain and she left to meet them on her own. Save the logistics of getting into the country.

"Stay safe, remember to write, and behave," he instructed before drawing her into a hug.

The two said their goodbyes and Hermione was torn between skipping to Yamato-sama Sensei and begging to go back. After cursing herself for that she approached the old man politely, bowed to Yamato Minako, thanking her and waved good bye to both her and her father before linking her arm into Yamato-sama Sensei's. She felt the now familiar pulling at her navel and with a loud pop, Yamato Minako's immaculate cat filled apartment was replaced with a remote rocky beach under a network of twinkling stars.

She heard the crashing of the waves below and the cry of birds over head. The salt air filled her lungs and it occurred to her, despite growing up in Scotland, Hermione had not once seen the ocean. Waves danced below her, in what seemed like an endless stretch of water and the movement was near entrancing. The blue water beneath the starlit sky, the forest of a million trees she'd never seen before, the rock croppings jutting out of the water...it was all so beautiful.

The warm salt breeze wafted around her, and that with the ocean seemed to be the only movement. Had she ever experienced such a comfortable stillness before?

"How are you with heights?" Yamato-sama asked.

"Heights?" she asked dreamily.

The cawing drew closer and Hermione's serenity vanished. Landing on the beach before them was a giant storm petrels, its massive wings blocking the starlight. It landed lightly, but still disturbed the grass and trees around it. She stared into its massive grey eyes and her heart threatened to burst from her chest. A giant petrel? Why-

Her question was answered when Yamato-sama mounted the great beast's back with surprising ease for a man his age.

Is it too late to ask to swim? Worst that can happen? Cast out to sea? I'll take it!

Hermione swallowed and approached with light foot steps. She took Yamato-sama's hand and climbed onto the bird's back behind him and begged for it to be all over. The warm wind Hermione once found nice now roared against her ears with a chill, she felt like she was being slapped by it. The bird's massive wings flapped behind her legs with incredible force, and she couldn't help but cling to the old man in front of her. Eyes closed, if I don't see it...Nope! It's totally real. I hope we get there soon.

Hermione's prayer's were answered as an opalescent tiered castle perched a top a mountain covered in foliage came into view. She was certain this was the highest point on the island. The bird landed on a clear path. Once Hermione regained her bearings she stood frozen before the scene before her. Was this real?

Stone steps bathed in golden lamplight led up to a Shinto gate ( Torii, she thought she read somewhere) before another set of steps leading up to the castle proper. It was everything she imagined, towering over them, both foreboding and inviting, the untamed forest enveloping them, the fresh mountain air. A stream even trickled down the mountain beside the path. Maybe it was her life as a shut-in, but at that moment, Hermione was certain she could live a thousand years and never see anything so wonderful.

Yamato-sama led her up the stairs under the Shinto chords and talismans hung over the grand arching door. The entrance hall greeted her with spotless wood flooring, ornate rice paper dividers, painted with intricate designs of the ocean, the castle, the island, cherry blossoms and bamboo forests. A set of stairs directly opposite them led up to the distance. Hermione followed in silence as she listened to Yamato-sama recite the more important rules. She would have to read up on them later, she should have been listening, but she simply couldn't believe any of this was real. Being there in Mahoukatoro, it seemed less real than the whole crazy year she had just finished.

Oh, dear god,am I Japan-fetishist? Hermione pushed the thought from her mind. Loads of people adored other lands and cultures from their own, and they weren't all confined to one small section of castle their whole lives.

"The dormitory for girls is right through there," he pointed down the corridor lit with paper lanterns. She gingerly tiptoed to the door . "We have rooms in the dormitory separated in pairs by year. Your dormmate will be a girl in your year named Okasha Saiyaka. You'll meet Hiro and Kaori for orientation after breakfast."

Hermione gingerly slid back the door to find a large room, beside the door were a row of shelves with what must've been a hundred pairs of shoes. One row sported black shoes, the other white. Must be a small group if it's two per girl, that means there's only fifty girls boarding total. The rest of the room was quite cozy, a long, low black table with several cushions set up around it sat on a red rug in the centre of the room, two higher tables shoved in each corner with four chairs set up around them and two sofas sat opposite each other on either side of a large window, whose sill was also cushioned. Must be the girls' common room?

She climbed the stairs quietly and looked for room 217. She found it easily enough as the numbers hung on the side of each sliding door. She knocked first, unsure if her new roommate was still awake, but she could see the warm golden glow of a light through the rice paper.

The door slide open to reveal a girl with dark brown hair in braided twintails, round glasses almost hidden by her fringe, darker olive skin and a shy smile on her face. Releif washed over Hermione, she didn't know what she expected, but Okasha Saiyaka seemed as nervous about this whole affair as she was.

"Sumimasen!" Hermione bowed and then introduced herself.

Okasha Saiyaka nodded and let her into the room.

The room was small, an open window let in starlight and a warm summer breeze. Two futons and two desks sat on either side of the window. The one Okasha Saiyaka sat at was piled high with books and papers. Hermione took the chair opposite her and set down the journal her father gave her, quickly scribbling a message into it while Saiyaka organized her books and papers.

Dad,

Arrived safely. I have to be up for orientation at six local time and already near asleep from the draught. I'll let you know how everything goes tomorrow!

Love,

Hermione.

She shut the book and turned her attention to her flustered roommate, who nervously laughed. An uncomfortable silence passed, and Hermione had the distinct feeling Saiyaka didn't start too many conversations. Both stared at their bare feet a a grey cat leapt up on to Saiyaka's desk and knocked over her tower of homework.

"Momo!" she groaned getting to her knees.

Hermione leapt to her feet and started to help Saiyaka. "Is everything intact, Okasha-san?" she asked in a small voice once everything was put back in place, in order and colour-coded.

"You can call me Saiyaka if you want," she smiled playing with her braid.

"You can call me Hermione," she smiled back.

The two girls started chatting away the night in hushed voices. Saiyaka's small voice told her she wasn't used to talking about herself. However, with some gentle prodding, she found out Saiyaka grew up in Okinawa, was muggle-born, her parents were still married, and she had an older half-sister named Meiko who was a muggle, and by her account a great beauty of even greater intellect. Hermione wondered if her parents favoured her sister, but pushed it from her mind and insisted she wanted to know about her, not her sister.

With a nervous smile, she continued. Saiyaka loved animals and thought she wanted to be a magizoologist, but she didn't know yet. "Oh, listen to me go on about myself!" she buried her face in her hands. "I'm sorry! Please, tell me about yourself."

"Well..." Hermione thought about her mysterious origins, isolated childhood, making top of her year, her misadventures with a troll and through the trapdoor..."There isn't much to tell. Just an over-achieving daughter of a British professor," she shrugged.