"Yip! Yip!"
Twelve-year old Kellen Grimseth sighed, and leaned his shovel against a wooden post. He looked down and saw a beagle puppy running circles around his soiled (not to mention smelly) Wellington boots. "What are you doing in here, Milo?" he groaned, shaking his head. He secretly wished he could use magic to pick up and dispose of the sheep dung in the barn – it was by far his least favorite chore.
He wiped his brow with his shirt sleeve, and was about to grab his shovel and resume his chores when a somewhat tall woman approached him. She looked to be close to forty, and had short, wavy milk-chocolate hair and caramel-colored eyes. "Kellen?" she called out, in a posh English accent. "There's a very nice girl on the telephone that wants to talk to you. It's that Hermione girl from your school in Scotland you've told us about. Now hurry inside and get washed up before you take the call… it's an international call so please keep the conversation on the shorter side if you can help it."
"Thanks, Mum," replied Kellen, his heart racing with anticipation. He practically flew out of the barn and kicked off his boots before entering the back door of his house. After washing his hands, he dashed to the kitchen, where sure enough, the receiver lay resting on the counter.
"Hello?" he spoke in the receiver, somewhat nervously. "Is that you, Hermione?" At first, the only response he got was a high-pitched giggle.
"Hiya, Kellen," Hermione finally responded. "You sound quite nervous…"
"Me? Nervous? Nahh…" Kellen intoned.
Another round of high-pitched giggles ensued. "You're a right wag, Kellen Grimseth." Hermione hummed a little ditty before continuing. "It's wonderful hearing your voice again, in all seriousness. How's your summer been so far? Have you heard from Ron or Harry yet?"
"I missed hearing your voice," replied Kellen. "It's been all right all things considered, but I got a bunch of chores this summer. In fact, I was cleaning out one of the stalls when you called… I'm not going to lie, your call's a most pleasant surprise." He scratched the nape of his neck. "I haven't heard from either Harry or Ron yet… have you?"
"I haven't heard from Harry yet, no," admitted Hermione. "But I did get a letter from Ron the other day. He's been enjoying his time with his family at the Burrow. He tried writing you, but you live too far away by owl so you'll just have to see him in person next month." She then snickered. "Speaking of pleasant surprises…"
"I'm glad Ron was able to reach you at least," said Kellen, who gratefully accepted Hermione's explanation on behalf of Ron. "Harry's birthday is at the end of this month so I really hope we get in touch with him by then… I really miss him too."
"So do I," agreed Hermione. "Anyway, my parents and I were thinking of coming to the States for our yearly holiday… I was rather hoping we could meet up somewhere if you're okay with that…"
Kellen practically jumped for joy. "Are you kidding? We could have you on the farm… we even have a two-bedroom chalet on our property that you and your parents could stay at. It's really, really nice, I promise!" He realized his speech had become faster and louder in his excitement, so he took a moment to calm down before continuing. "So, when are you thinking of coming over?"
Hermione twirled her phone cord with her index finger. "About three weeks from now… does that work for you?"
"I'll have to talk to my parents," Kellen said. "I'm sure they'll be cool with it, but I hope this is enough notice. They don't really like last-minute surprises."
Hermione giggled. "And I'll have to talk to mine. I'm sure all I have to do is bat my eyes..."
Kellen couldn't help but chuckle. "Riiiight… ugh!" He looked behind him, and saw his dad looking at him with a serious expression on his face, pointing at his wristwatch. "My dad says it's time for me to get off the phone and get back to the barn. It was really nice hearing from you, Hermione! I can't wait to see you! Bye!"
Hermione groaned in disappointment. "Well shoot! It was really great talking to you too, Kellen! I can't wait to see you either! Bye!"
Just as Kellen was about to head back out the back door and return to his chores, he heard a door open from upstairs. A boy who looked to be a couple of years younger than Kellen darted to the top of the stairs and began chanting: "Kellen's got a girlfriend, Kellen's got a girlfriend!"
Kellen rolled his eyes. "Cut it out, Wyatt," he retorted. "She's not my girlfriend, and even if she was, she'd be out of your league anyway!" Suddenly, a thought occurred to him… did the little dingbat eavesdrop on their conversation? He shook his head in frustration, but was also somewhat grateful that his father cut their call short before they could say anything mushy.
Wyatt could only snicker as Kellen left the house to finish his chores.
### ### ###
Back in the Greater London area, it was nearly dinnertime and Hermione thought that would be as good a time as any to bring up visiting Kellen for their yearly excursion. "Mum? Dad?" she squeaked. "I know you've talked about possibly going to the States this summer… and I was rather hoping we could perhaps see my best friend from school? He lives on a farm in Minnesota, and he told me that his parents own a two-bedroom chalet for guests… I really, really want to see him… you know how much he means to me."
Mister and Mrs. Granger looked at each other before shifting their respective gazes back to their daughter. "Kellen is a very sweet boy," her mother after a moment of deliberation. "And I'm sure his family is very nice, but we were thinking of visiting Florida this time… the travel agent may be able to give us a discount to Disney World."
Hermione looked at her mother as if she had grown a third eyeball. "Florida? I've never been, but it's got to be hotter than Hades this time of year… Minnesota's summer climate is much more pleasant, I'm sure… and Kellen's told me about farm life… at least the fun things he does… baseball, fishing, swimming, and these games he plays late in the evening with his brother and their neighbors… sardines, ditchum, kick the can… it's a chance for me to spend time with kids close to my own age… a chance for me to spend time with at least one child who accepts me for who I am! None of the kids in our area have ever wanted much to do with me!"
Mrs. Granger sighed. "I'll phone Kellen's mum tomorrow and see if it's doable… I can't promise anything, 'Mione love. Even if we agree, it might not be a good time for them!"
"That's fair, Mum," replied Hermione as she grabbed a forkful of veggies from her plate. "Thank you for trying."
### ###
Back on the farm the following Friday, Mrs. Grimseth had an announcement for her family at dinner. She could barely suppress a grin. "Kellen? Wyatt? I think it's safe to say we'll be having some guests on the farm in a couple of weeks…"
"Gran and Grampy Moultrie?" asked Wyatt, who had no clue as to what was going on. "It's about time they came to see us for once…"
"No," drawled Mrs. Grimseth. "The mum of one of Kellen's schoolmates and I have been phoning each other this week." Her face brightened fivefold. "I know you've told me a lot of good things about this Hermione girl, Kellen. I positively can't wait to meet her and her lovely family. Now, we've got quite a bit of tidying up to do before they get to the farm." She lowered her eyebrows and looked at Wyatt. "That room of yours is disgusting, Wyatt. I don't expect you to keep yours as tidy as Kellen's…" She then directed her gaze to Kellen. "You might have to give your little brother a hand there, Kel. It's so bad, I may have to double your allowance for next week!"
"Or, you could just give me his and call it good," chortled Kellen. Wyatt blew Kellen the biggest raspberry he could muster.
The next couple of weeks couldn't have dragged by any slower from Kellen's perspective. In addition to cleaning the barn stalls and feeding the dogs and livestock, he also had the unenviable task of helping Wyatt clean his room. It was so gross that even rats and roaches would have to take a hard pass, he thought. What he wouldn't give to cast a few tergeo spells!
After getting everything in ship-shape, the big day finally came. Kellen got up extra early that Sunday morning – he put on his nicest golf shirt and trousers, and combed his sandy blonde hair as neatly as he was able. It was a two hour drive to the airport in the Twin Cities from the farm, and even in their fairly large sports utility vehicle, it would be a rather cramped ride back with three extra passengers. He didn't care though; he wanted nothing more than to sit next to Hermione and spend those two hours catching up.
Kellen sat between his brother and his parents in the waiting area near the baggage claim at the airport. It's been a little over a month since he had last seen his best friend, but he felt the butterflies in his stomach as if he hadn't seen her in years. His face was buried in one of the Orson Scott Card novels that Hermione gave him for Christmas, and boof! He was taken completely by surprise when a brunette comet collided with him in a wild hug, practically tackling him to the ground.
"Hiya, Kellen," squeaked Hermione in an excited tone. "I can't believe it… I'm going to be spending a week on the farm with you!"
"It's really nice to see you too, Hermione," Kellen replied. He studied the girl from head-to-toe… although he knew it was Hermione, something about her looked different. A good different, he thought. She was wearing a white long-sleeved button-down shirt with a red short-sleeved sweater over it, black trousers, and two-toned Doc Martens lace-up brogues. Her hair was done quite nicely by her standards – instead of her usual bushy brown jungle, her hair was tamed to the point of being just slightly wavy. She also appeared to be wearing light makeup as well – her lips were a little redder, and her light brown eyes popped a little more than usual. This was the most done-up he had ever seen her, he thought. Kellen blinked before continuing. "You look really nice, by the way."
Hermione blushed, her ears and cheeks turning a deep pink. "Oh, you're just saying that," she giggled. "So, are you going to introduce me to your family, or what?"
Kellen cleared his throat as he led his best friend toward his family. "Hermione Granger, these are my parents, Mr. and Dr. Grimseth. And this is my dingbat of a brother, Wyatt."
Mrs. Grimseth shot Kellen a bit of a glare, before smiling at Hermione. She embraced the younger girl. "Hello there, young lady," she said. "Kellen's told me a lot of wonderful things about you. It's a pleasure to finally meet you in person."
"You're English!" exclaimed Hermione before regaining her composure. "I mean, Kellen's told me, but I suppose I didn't really expect to hear another British accent around here." She then flashed a lovely smile, unafraid to display the slight gap between her front teeth. "It's a right pleasure to meet you, Dr. Grimseth."
"English and Scottish, yes," Mrs. Grimseth chuckled. "And never mind the 'doctor' part, love. Please, call me Kay!"
Hermione giggled. "As you wish, Kay. My parents are still waiting on their luggage, it'll probably be a few minutes before they make their way over here. The sensible girl in me told me I should have waited until all of us got our things, but I just couldn't help myself. I think a bit of Kellen's impulsiveness rubbed off on me."
A tall man with dark blonde hair and a couple of days' worth of stubble thrust a large, calloused hand in front of Hermione. Kellen's eyes were the same shade as his father's, but otherwise he looked much more like his mother, she thought. "Welcome to Minnesota, miss," the man said in a very deep voice. "I hope you've had a pleasant flight." He offered her a thin smile. "Mark Grimseth. I'm Kellen and Wyatt's father."
Once again, Hermione giggled as she gently shook Mr. Grimseth's hand. "Hi there! That's Kellen's accent there. And yes, the flight was long, but it was otherwise fine."
Finally, Wyatt – who was the spitting image of his father – introduced himself to Hermione. He kept his voice low so as not to make a scene. "I… um… never thought Kellen would be friends with a girl… especially a pretty one."
Hermione smiled at the younger boy. "Truth be told, he's got quite a few friends that are girls. And some of them are a fair bit prettier than I am!"
"You sly dog," murmured Wyatt. Kellen could only shrug in response.
"Kellen, why don't you be a gentleman and help Hermione and her family with their luggage?" suggested Mrs. Grimseth.
"One step ahead of you, Mum," Kellen said with a grin. He turned to Hermione. "I think I see your parents by the carousel. I'll be glad to take a bag or two."
A few minutes later, after Kellen exchanged hugs with Hermione's parents, he grabbed a couple of medium-sized bags and led the Grangers to his own parents, who were quite delighted to meet their new guests. It was about a ten minute walk to the Grimseth's GMC Suburban, but considering that the flight was in the neighborhood of nine hours, the Grangers didn't mind one bit as they were beyond ready to get up and stretch their legs.
The ride home was approximately two hours in length, and the three children sat together in the last row of seats. Hermione sat between Kellen and Wyatt, who had endless questions for the girl. Kellen groaned at more than a few of them, but Hermione didn't mind – she just thought that Wyatt was curious and was all too happy to entertain him.
By the time they made it back to the farm, it was nearly seven in the evening. The sun was only beginning to set in the Minnesota summer sky, as daylight can persist until after ten o'clock around the summer solstice. Kellen helped Mr. Grimseth and Mr. Granger unload all of the luggage at the guest cottage, before they all returned to their own house for a home-cooked meal. The boys caught a familiar scent and made a beeline toward the kitchen.
A grey-haired lady of about sixty-five was humming some little ditty in the kitchen as she was stirring a big pot. "Oh, hello dears," she purred in a slight Norwegian lilt as she saw Kellen and Wyatt dash towards her. "I hope you don't mind having lobscouse for dinner tonight!"
"Bestemor Pernille!" Kellen and Wyatt cried out in unison as they both hugged her tightly.
"We have some very special guests with us," Kellen continued. "My very best friend from school and her parents are going to spend the week with us!"
"Ahh," murmured Pernille before she sipped a wooden spoon before adding some additional seasonings the traditional Norwegian stew. "I can't wait to meet this lovely young lady."
"Oh, there you are," came an exasperated voice from the other side of the kitchen. "Seriously Kellen, I would have figured that you were above ditching guests right after they arrive…"
Kellen's cheeks flushed crimson. "Sorry, Hermione," he murmured. He then gestured toward Pernille, who had apparently lost herself in her cooking. "At any rate, this is my grandmother Pernille. She's the most amazing lady I know… you're going to love her, I guarantee it."
Pernille turned around to greet the young witch. "Welcome to our humble farm, child," she purred. "We'll treat you and your parents like family as long as you're here. I'm not sure how familiar you are with Norse culture, but you'll be exposed to a fair amount of it while you're here!" She held her arms out, beckoning Hermione for a hug.
"Kellen has told me wonderful things about you, Pernille," Hermione replied softly. "Anyway, I'm Hermione Granger. Thanks to Kellen, I've had a little exposure to Norse culture." She then giggled softly. "Kellen lærte meg litt norsk." (Kellen taught me a little Norwegian).
Pernille didn't even bat an eye. "Han lærte deg godt; din engelske aksent er ikke særlig sterk. (He taught you well; your English accent is not very strong." She then threw Kellen a sneaky grin before addressing Hermione again. "Que diriez-vous d'une conversation entre filles après le dîner?" (How about some 'girl talk' after dinner)?
"Ce serait charmant, merci," replied Hermione. (That would be lovely, thanks.)
Kellen looked at both Hermione and his grandmother, slack-jawed. "That's not fair," he mumbled. "How did you know she speaks French?"
Pernille shrugged. "Grandmotherly intuition," she offered.
Kellen sighed. "So now you two are going to talk about me behind my back in a language I've never studied… and there's nothing I can do about it… I'm not sure I like that."
Hermione squeezed Kellen's hand. "We'd mostly say good things about you," she whispered. "Besides, if you wanted to talk about me, the two of you can always yammer back in forth in Spanish."
"It'd be a pretty one-sided conversation," chuckled Kellen.
"Well, dinner is nearly ready," declared Pernille. "Why don't you three wash up and take your seats in the dining room? I'll bring out some dinner rolls and lemonade for you."
"Sounds wonderful," chirped Hermione. "Now, would one of you boys show me where the bathroom is?"
"You can use mine," offered Kellen. "Don't worry – I keep it spotless, just like my bedroom. Speaking of, I'll have to show my book collection to you tomorrow."
"I think he's got more books than the downtown public library," groaned Wyatt.
### ###
After a delicious, filling dinner, Wyatt cleared off the table and tidied up the dining room, and Kellen washed the dishes. Meanwhile, Mr. and Mrs. Granger and Mr. and Mrs. Grimseth sat in the living room, getting better-acquainted with each other. There were times that Mr. Grimseth felt a bit out-of-place as both the Grangers and his wife used British slang that sounded quite strange to his Norwegian-American ears.
Once the dining room was cleaned up, Wyatt joined his brother in drying the dishes in the kitchen, while Hermione and Pernille sat at the dining room table, conversing in both Norwegian and French. Pernille took an instant liking to the precocious girl – partly because she held Kellen in such high esteem, but partly because she was watching history repeat itself.
"It's too funny, Hermione," Pernille said with a chuckle. "The apple doesn't fall far from the tree, I reckon! I vividly remember watching Mark fall in love with a studious brown-haired, brown-eyed English girl over fifteen years ago. He and Kay met at an Eric Clapton concert in London, of all places… he'd just graduated from college and of course he wanted to see the world."
"Like father, like son," giggled Hermione. She sighed. "Kellen… he's such an amazing boy. He's capable of doing great deeds, but it's the little things that make me really appreciate him. He tells me that I'm beautiful on days where I feel anything but… he honestly respects my intelligence even though I'm not the supercomputer he is… and most of all, he really and truly cares. He's the first person I want to go to after I've had a bad day."
Pernille gave Hermione the most serious look she could muster. The expression was not without kindness, however. "You're in love with him, aren't you?"
Hermione could only nod. "I am," she said in a soft voice. "I know I shouldn't feel this way as I'm still a couple of months from turning thirteen, but he's the very kind of person I see myself spending the rest of my life with."
Pernille gave Hermione a knowing smile. "Based on my limited observations, the two of you have a very strong chemistry… a certain magic if you will." The way the old woman emphasized the word magic made Hermione jump slightly. This didn't go unnoticed by Pernille.
Pernille waved one of her hands dismissively. "I must have touched a nerve, heh. I'm not an enchantress, child, but I firmly believe in the existence of supernatural powers." She gazed toward the ceiling, not concentrating on anything in particular. "Untold generations ago, my Sami forebears practiced the arcane art of shamanism. You know what that is, I take it?"
Hermione nodded. "Shamanism is a very spiritual branch of magic. Much of it is elemental in nature – as in the four elements: air, earth, fire, and water – but also focuses on healing, and even communicating with long-gone spirits."
"Very good, my child," murmured Pernille. "Magic has long remained dormant in the Grimseth family… needless to say, it's returned with a vengeance in Kellen. It's too bad they don't offer Shamanistic studies at this school of yours in Scotland."
"So if what you're saying is true… then Kellen is technically a half-blood and not a true Muggle-born," Hermione replied in a very soft tone. "Perhaps that explains his uncanny knack for learning magic… he's very, very gifted." Her face lit up in a bright smile. "Another thing I adore about him is that he uses his gifts to help others. It doesn't take him long to master new concepts at all; he'll spend much of his free time helping his classmates out."
"Oh, he very much has a magical heritage, even if it's diluted," confirmed Pernille. She then returned the smile. "And that doesn't surprise me. He's got a very generous heart… I am beyond proud to have him as my grandson."
At that moment, Hermione heard her mother calling from the living room. "'Mione dear, it's getting late… we're about to head to the cottage and call it a night."
Pernille took Hermione's hand and patted it. "You best get going with your parents, my child. You've had a long day, and I think you could use a good night's sleep. How does munker sound for breakfast tomorrow?"
Hermione flashed a lovely smile. "That sounds delicious, actually. I've had it at school on Kellen's birthday, actually. I'm sure it'd be even tastier here…"
Pernille then called Kellen and Wyatt from the kitchen so they can tell Hermione good night.
"We've literally just finished up," panted Wyatt as he burst into the dining room. He then smirked. "Good night, Hermione. It was nice to meet you today."
"Good night, Wyatt. It was a pleasure for sure," replied Hermione.
Kellen cleared his throat. "So Hermione… there's just a bit of sunlight out, maybe I could walk you back to the guest cottage, if your parents are OK with that? It's only a five minute walk, anyway."
"I'd like that," replied Hermione.
After securing permission from their respective parents to walk back to the cottage, Hermione went back to the dining room to give Pernille a good-night hug. By the time the kids left the farmhouse, all of their parents had already left for the cottage as they saw the telltale cloud of dust several hundred yards down the dirt path.
Hermione and Kellen took in the brilliant pinks, oranges, and purples of the slowly-sinking sun in the west, and leisurely made their way toward the guest cottage. At around the halfway point, the children saw Kellen's parents making their way back to the farmhouse; everyone smiled and waved as they passed each other by.
They walked the last part of the trail holding hands; about a hundred feet short of the cottage, Kellen suddenly stopped. He looked at Hermione rather nervously. "I've, erm, got some unfinished business," he admitted. "I tried showing my appreciation for you saving my life a month ago, but y'know… Ron…"
Before Hermione could reply, Kellen closed his eyes and flicked his head forward toward hers, not really knowing what he was doing, but not really caring either. He pressed his lips on hers… it was quick, it was awkward, but it was also magical. The simple kiss sent shivers up and down each of their spines.
An uncomfortably long silence ensued.
"I'm sorry," Kellen said, unsure of how to best break the silence. "I guess I shouldn't have…"
"Shut up," whispered Hermione, cutting him off. "Just shut up, and hold me." She wrapped her arms around Kellen, who could practically feel her smile on his chest as he wrapped his arms around her.
