At six thirty the next morning, the Grangers heard a rapping on the front door of the guest cottage. Mrs. Granger, dressed in a plain blue robe with her hair in curlers, opened the door with a yawn.

"Good morning, dearie," trilled Pernille Grimseth in her slight Norwegian lilt. "You might want to fetch your husband and that darling daughter of yours; there's hot munker waiting for you back at the farmhouse. I'll give you a few minutes to get yourselves changed. I'll be waiting in the pickup out front. Oh, and Kay's got some coffee going as well."

Mrs. Granger smiled. "For sure. Kay has been a pleasant surprise; I would never have expected to meet another Briton whilst vacationing in the States." She arched an eyebrow. "Hermione told me about your munker… I've never had it, but she said that it's delicious. I'm very curious to try it myself."

Ten minutes later, Pernille and the Grangers arrived at the farmhouse for breakfast. Mister Grimseth stood in the corner of the dining room, reading the cover of a folded newspaper in one hand, and holding a mug of piping-hot coffee in the other. Mrs. Grimseth was busy pouring glasses of orange juice for the three children, and Kellen and Wyatt sat at the table, teasing each other light-heartedly.

"Kellen's got a girlfriend," Wyatt chanted.

Kellen rolled his eyes. "At least Hermione acknowledges my existence," he retorted. "You can't say the same about Juliet Cassatt."

"Jerk," pouted Wyatt. He then grinned evilly. "You kind of liked her older sister Darcie before you left for Warthogs… and you couldn't get her to touch you with a ten foot pole neither!"

"Pfft," Kellen spat. "I can do better than Darcie… Hermione Granger blows her out of the water in every way imaginable." He closed his eyes and shook his head, speaking in a flawless British dialect. "For the record, the school's called Hogwarts."

"Whatever it is they teach you at Hoodwinks, they sure got you talking like a real Limey," groaned Wyatt.

Kellen glared at Wyatt, then shifted his eyes toward the kitchen, where his mother was. His eyes narrowed. "Watch your mouth, dingbat. I don't think our mother would appreciate that condescending attitude of yours. Particularly when you're half British yourself!" Wyatt could only sneer at his older brother.

Just seconds later, the front door opened. "God morgen, Grimseths!"

"Good morning, Ma," Mister Grimseth said, slurping his coffee, barely glancing up from his paper.

"Hiya, Pernille," Mrs. Grimseth chirped in a cheery tone. "There's hot coffee and I have fresh orange juice for the kiddos! The munker smells delicious – I can't wait!"

"Well, help yourself, dearie," chuckled Pernille. "There's plenty for everyone!"

Seconds later, the Grangers made their way to the kitchen to grab some breakfast. Wyatt tried to sneak some munker before anyone else had a chance, but Kellen slapped his hand down. "Let the Grangers go first, dude," he admonished his younger brother in a soft tone. Wyatt just rolled his eyes.

"Good morning, boys," yawned Hermione as she entered the kitchen to grab a plate of munker. She was still in a plaid nightgown, and her hair had returned to its usual state of bushiness overnight.

"Good morning, Hermione," the boys replied in unison. "Did you sleep well?" added Kellen.

"I did, all things considered," she said, the corners of her lips curled slightly upwards. "The mattress was a little on the hard side, but the pillows were perfect." She then looked at Kellen thoughtfully. "So, what's on the docket for today?"

"I'm probably still responsible for my chores – at least some of them," sighed Kellen. "Maybe my dad will let me out of a few of them since…" He was cut off by sudden, high-pitched whining. "Oh, hey there Milo," he said, scratching his canine companion behind his brown floppy ears. "I guess it's breakfast time for you too. I'll fill your bowls."

"May I pet him?" asked Hermione. "He's ridiculously cute."

"Most beagles are," chuckled Kellen. "He's got a terrific personality, but just don't go crazy giving him table scraps… if you give him an inch, he'll take a mile!" He picked up the pup and handed him to Hermione, who cradled him rather like a baby doll. He then got up to fill up Milo's food and water bowl.

Hermione then smiled at Wyatt. "Do you have any other furbabies, not counting livestock?"

"We have three Great Pyrenees," explained Wyatt. "They guard our sheep. They're all ginormous… their names are Taran, Eilonwy, and Gurgi."

Hermione couldn't help but giggle. "Those are all characters from the Chronicles of Prydain," she said. "Your brother would know what I'm talking about."

Wyatt groaned. "Of course he would, he's a mega-geek."

Hermione giggled again. "That he is, but he's also so much more than that… he's one of the bravest people I know."

"Hunh," grunted Wyatt. "Kellen's a lot of things, but I'm not sure if I'd describe him as brave."

Hermione shook her head. "You don't know him like I do."

"You don't know him like I do," retorted Wyatt. "I've known him all my life; you've maybe known him a year! He lets people walk all over him…" He then lowered his voice to a whisper. "And Kellen's a wuss when it comes to snakes. A little garter snake will make him quake in his boots!"

Hermione just smiled. "You should have seen your brother the first night at the castle last year… he stood up for me when another boy called me some really mean names."

Wyatt cocked his head. "He actually defended you? From kindergarten through fifth grade, he's just let the other kids ride him!" He shook his head in disbelief. "And why would another boy call you names? You seem wicked cool…"

"Thanks," sighed Hermione. "It's a long story."

Kellen returned to the dining room a couple of minutes later, with a plate full of munker. "Milo was definitely hungry," he said with a chuckle. "Didn't take him long to wolf down his breakfast." He took a sip of his orange juice.

"So… what all do we have planned for the day? Your furbaby most unceremoniously interrupted us before we could go into any details," squeaked Hermione.

"I guess I can show you my book collection after breakfast, and maybe we can go downstairs to the parlour room if you'd like. We have a billiards table, a 42 inch TV with a Super Nintendo, a jukebox… and a piano if you want to try and show me up again," Kellen replied with a chuckle.

"Oh, that's nice," replied Hermione. "What kind of piano do you have?"

"A Steinway baby grand," Kellen said casually.

Hermione scrunched her face. "Lucky." Kellen could only shrug in response.

### ### ###

After they had their breakfast, Kellen asked his father about the day's chores. Mark looked at his son and winked. "Well, being that you have a friend over, I suppose I can let some of your chores slide today. Just worry about feeding the dogs and the horses for now, and you can spend the rest of the day with that cute Hermione friend of yours."

Kellen could barely contain his excitement. "Awesome, thanks Dad!" He returned to the dining room to tell Hermione the good news.

"Wyatt told me that you have three Pyrenean Mountain Dogs," she said. "If you don't mind, after I freshen up a tick, would you mind introducing me to those big balls of fluff?"

Kellen chuckled. "I'd be delighted. They'll be hanging around our sheep; they're pretty docile so you can love on them too. It shouldn't take too long."

A few minutes later, Kellen led Hermione to a pasture, where hundreds of sheep were grazing. "Taran! Eilonwy! Gurgi!" he called out, and three white heads perked up, and bolted toward the children, tails wagging.

"Oh goodness," Hermione cried out. "These doggos are huge!"

"They're bred to be large for a reason," explained Kellen. "Pyreneans are normally as gentle as Milo, but they're very hardy dogs that can withstand the elements. They can drive off wolves, and if the three of them team up, black bears."

Hermione's jaw dropped. "There's bears on your farm?"

Kellen smiled and shook his head. "Not to my knowledge. Black bears are pretty rare in Minnesota, but they're not entirely unheard of. Nine times out of ten, it's coyotes that are hungry for lamb chops, but even Eilonwy – who's about seven stone herself – can take on a coyote without much trouble."

He led Hermione and the dogs to a large red barn, and filled up a large, deep bowl of water with a hose, and scooped several heaping helpings of kibble into three bowls.

"That should tide them over for a while," he chuckled. "I don't recall you having any pets at your house. Not even a cat?"

Hermione shook her head sadly. "No pets, but I'd love a kitty."

Kellen gave her a knowing look. "We used to have a cat, but it got mauled by a coyote a couple of years ago. Mum… she tried to save it, but while she's a very skilled veterinarian… some things are even beyond her."

"I'm so sorry," whispered Hermione. "That's the reason my parents are reluctant to have pets… we'd have to say goodbye someday."

"Hamilton… was a ton of fun," Kellen said with a soft chuckle. "I'm normally not a cat person, but he got along really well with our dogs. They kind of looked at him like another puppy… they were very protective of him."

The corners of Hermione's lips curved upwards in a small, thin smile. "Hamilton… that's an unusual name for a cat. Was he named after that American statesman Alexander Hamilton by any chance?"

Kellen shook his head. "Actually, he was named after the lead singer of this soft rock band of the 1970s called Hamilton, Joe Frank and Reynolds." He offered Hermione a small shrug. "My mum's idea."

Hermione nodded, mostly to humor Kellen as she wasn't familiar with the band. "How does your mum like being a veterinarian?" she asked with a note of innocence. Her voice then softened a little, sounding even a little wistful. "Before I found out that I had other gifts besides being a swot… I wanted to become a veterinarian."

"She loves it," Kellen replied with a smile. "For the most part, she finds it very rewarding and fulfilling. She occasionally does house – or more accurately – farm calls, as she specializes in livestock. But she does more than her fair share of cats and dogs. She runs her own practice in town… it's the most-recommended clinic in the area if you can believe it!"

Hermione's amber eyes locked on Kellen's blue-green ones. "Would you still give up your magical gifts to live the rest of your life with me, Kellen?"

Kellen smiled. "You know I would." He then bit his lip. "Part of me wishes I was just an ordinary kid. I can do a lot of good in the Muggle world, even after honing my magical skills. After seven years of studying I can at least confidently control my magic… I could certainly live a comfortable life without a wand, either as a farmer… or a college professor. Cosmology and astrophysics have fascinated me for the longest time…" He looked away from Hermione for a moment.

"Kellen," she said in a soft, sweet tone. "I spoke with your grandmother after dinner last night, and although she claims she isn't magical, there's just something about her that I can't put my finger on…"

"Does she bother you?" Kellen asked, somewhat surprised. "I thought you'd adore her, she's the sweetest woman in the world… she's given me so much, and it's not just her cooking and traditional Scandinavian stories…"

Hermione smiled. "No, it's nothing like that… she's a very precious lady and you're beyond lucky to have Pernille as your grandmother… you're right, I adore her. It's just that something she said got me thinking." Again, her eyes met Kellen's. "I don't think you're a true Muggle-born, Kellen. I really think you're a half-blood. Meaning, Pernille's a squib… and your brother is a squib."

Kellen chuckled. "That reminds me. When I spoke with Professor Goode last year, they have different terms here for those who can't practice magic. Muggles are called 'no-maj', and squibs are called 'dongles'. Part of me wonders how things would have gone had I gone to Massachusetts instead of Scotland, but I think at the end of the day, I made the right choice."

"I think you did too," murmured Hermione. "I wouldn't have met the sweet, brave, and utterly brilliant Minnesota farmboy that turned Hogwarts on its head. Even Slytherin loves you… at least a very significant segment of it does."

Kellen sighed. "I'm not going to lie, I was afraid I was going to get teased a fair bit because I'm not a British citizen. Some of the Slytherins did, like Draco and his old gang… but I got teased more because I'm Muggle-born." He looked upward in thought. "My grandmother told me those Sami tales too; she was overjoyed when she learned that I qualified to study at both Hogwarts and Ilvermorny. Maybe I do have some ancestors from 300 or more years ago that did practice shamanistic magic; but that's at least eight or nine generations back… besides, even if I did have any wizarding ancestry, it's not on the British side so I'd wager it's going to be a challenge for the genealogists in Magical Britain to prove it… it's not like I'm laying claim to a long-dormant house or anything. I'm perfectly happy being officially Muggle-born."

"Would you consider taking a genealogy test one day? For me?" Hermione pleaded, batting her eyes. "You're exceptionally talented… it'd put my mind at ease knowing that there's a reason why you're such a gifted pupil."

Kellen smirked. "Perhaps one day."

"Thank you, Kellen," Hermione replied with a bright smile. She giggled. "Speaking of Malfoy, I don't know what you slipped in his pumpkin juice, but he became a lot more tolerable the second half of the term. I know you had something to do with it."

Kellen burst into laughter. "I remember back in late January when we got into that fight over that blasted Stone… well, the day when we weren't really speaking to each other, Snape partnered Draco and me in Potions and I just started talking to him to see why he acted the way he did. With a little prodding, he admitted he was very jealous of me because he couldn't come close to matching my marks in school – or yours, for that matter – and he was also very jealous of my relationship with Daphne, Pansy and Tracey… and he also had to swallow his pride and admit he was jealous of my relationship with you. I told him not to worry about showering his housemates with gifts – even though he clearly has the means to do so – but instead, just worry about the 'little things' like studying with them, or telling them they're smart or beautiful if they've had a rotten day… basically, let them know that he cares. He really isn't a bad kid… he's just been spoonfed a bunch of sheep dung by his folks and other persons of influence." He cleared his throat. "I really am going to miss him – at least the side of him I was just beginning to see. I really hope he does well at Durmstrang. I offered to keep in touch with him. We'll see if he takes me up on my offer, though I won't hold it against him if he doesn't. He'll probably be very busy at his new school; besides, his father might not want him corresponding with me. Expect the worst, hope for the best…"

Hermione nodded. "I've definitely seen a bit of a change in his attitude the last couple of months. He even said "Hey Granger!" in a friendly manner to me at the library once. I was so shocked he even acknowledged me… but what's even more shocking was that it wasn't disingenuous; this was a very different boy than the one that called me a 'mudblood' last September. And he wrote Harry a get-well card while he was in the infirmary… that was a very pleasant surprise too!"

A loud neighing sound came from the opposite side of the barn. "Oh, that reminds me," Kellen said. "I need to feed our horses. My dad will let them out in the pasture later. It's pretty easy… would you like to help?"

"Sure," replied Hermione. "What do I need to do?"

Kellen grabbed three or four silver buckets from the corner of the barn. "We'll take these buckets, fill them with grain, and place them in their stalls. It's pretty easy." He took one of the buckets, scooped it in a large gunny sack filled with various grains, and then walked back to one of the stalls. "Hey, Hotshot," he whispered to the young brown stallion as he placed the bucket in the stall. He ran his fingers through Hotshot's dark brown mane. "Hope some oats and alfalfa hit the spot."

He then filled another bucket with grain and handed it to Hermione. Her arms nearly dropped to the floor with the weight of the grain. "Oof, it's heavier than it looks," she groaned.

"You don't have to tell me that," chuckled Kellen. "These buckets can hold a fair bit of grain." He pointed to the stall next to Hotshot's. "Why don't you give that to Freya? Just lift the latch, and slip it on the other side of the door. Freya's pretty chill, she'll let you love on her if you want."

"Okay," sighed Hermione with a hint of nervousness. She opened the stall latch, and placed the bucket in the corner. Freya was a black mare, perhaps a hand or so smaller than Hotshot. She gave Hermione a look, one that could be called inquisitive for a horse. "Hi Freya," cooed Hermione as she ran her hands through the horse's dark mane. "I hope you're hungry enough to let me feed you this morning." Freya snorted, then stuck her snout in the bucket while Hermione continued to stroke the mare. "You're a pretty baby, aren't you?"

### ###

After all the animals were fed, Kellen and Hermione went back inside the house. Mr. Grimseth immediately greeted the children as soon as they walked in through the back door. "Hey there, you two. I take it that the dogs and horses had their breakfast?"

"Yeah, Dad," replied Kellen. "Hermione even lent a hand with the horses; she was curious!"

"How did you like it, miss?" Mr. Grimseth asked.

"It was alright, I reckon," replied Hermione. "Those buckets are a lot heavier than they look!"

Mr. Grimseth couldn't help but laugh. "That's what Kellen said the first time he fed the horses. It takes some getting used to, that's for sure." He clapped Kellen on the shoulder. "All right, Kel. Your mother left for the office a few minutes ago, she should be back around five. I'm about to take Wyatt to soccer camp, and then I'm going to take your little lady friend's folks for a spin on the boat on the lake. If you need anything, your grandmother will be around all day."

"Sounds like a plan, Dad," said Kellen. "We'll probably be in the parlour downstairs, playing pool, video games… maybe even jam on the Steinway."

Mr. Grimseth arched an eyebrow. "I didn't think you liked taking piano lessons," he said in his deep gravelly voice. He waved his hands dismissively. "Don't blame me, they were your mother's idea…"

Kellen chuckled. "Heh, I didn't particularly care for them, no, but Hermione here's a very good pianist." Hermione blushed a bright pink.

"Kellen says you have an electric guitar somewhere… a rutabaga or some-such?" she asked.

Both Kellen and Mr. Grimseth doubled over with laughter. "Rickenbacker," Kellen said. "Yeah, it should be in the parlour near the piano…"

"The amp and cables are already down there," added Mr. Grimseth with a grin. "So, has Van Halen Junior had a chance to demonstrate his shredding skills?"

Hermione flashed a brilliant smile. "He did at Christmas. My father has a… what was it… a Fender something-or-other…"

"Stratocaster," Kellen clarified.

"Yes, Stratocaster," continued Hermione. "It's my daddy's… And oh. my. goodness. Kellen blew my mind when he played for me… he's very, very good." She then giggled. "He's a good pianist, too, though I don't think he likes to admit it."

This time, it was Kellen's cheeks that turned pink. "I suppose I can teach you a few chords on the guitar if you're interested…"

"We'll see," replied Hermione with a smile.

Mr. Grimseth chuckled. "All right, you two. I'll see you this afternoon. You have some fun, and try to stay out of trouble."

"Will do," replied Kellen. "Oh first, I guess you probably want to see my book collection upstairs…" He led Hermione up the staircase and to his bedroom. "Wow," she breathed. "Your room is immaculate… I mean, my room's tidy and everything but I'm not sure even mine is this spotless!" She made her way to one of the several bookcases that lined the walls in Kellen's bedroom. "Good heavens, Kellen! You must have over a thousand books in here!"

"One thousand, two hundred seventeen," Kellen said with a grin. "I've counted." He cocked his head. "You're welcome to help yourself to my collection. Not everything is science fiction, or a graduate-level astrophysics textbook."

"Don't mind if I do," chirped Hermione as she ran a finger across the many volumes. She knelt by one of the bottom shelves, and her face scrunched up in confusion. "Where's Wally?" she asked, sounding almost disappointed.

Kellen sighed. "Yeah, my grandparents in England sent those Waldo books to me a few years ago as a birthday present. I haven't actually gone through them in a good while, but they're actually pretty fun books on road trips. Wyatt and I would search for Waldo and then we'd go back and find the books or scrolls he dropped."

Hermione just nodded. She turned back to the bookshelves, hoping to find a book of interest. It wasn't long before she paused and let out an excited gasp. "Is this… Charlie and the Chocolate Factory… in Norwegian?" Her amber eyes sparkled as she held up the book. The glee in her face and her voice was apparent; very befitting for the schoolgirl that she was.

"Why, yes it is," confirmed Kellen. "As a matter of fact, Roald Dahl was of Norwegian descent himself, though to my recollection he wrote exclusively in English. It might be a good one to read to keep your Norwegian reading skills honed." He smiled at his friend. "If you want the book, you can have it."

"For real?" Hermione asked with pure joy in her voice.

"Of course, for real," chuckled Kellen. "I have the book in English and Spanish as well; it's not like I'm benefiting from keeping a third copy in a language I can read in my sleep."

"Thank you," Hermione murmured, as she wrapped her arms around Kellen in a grateful gesture.

"You're welcome," Kellen replied. "I suppose we can head downstairs to the parlour if you're ready."

### ###

Several minutes later, the children were in the dark basement of the house. Kellen turned on the overhead lights which illuminated a very large room, easily twice the size of their living room upstairs. Several couches and recliners dotted the walls of the room; in one of the far corners was a huge 42 inch television set sitting atop an dark oak cabinet; in the other corner stood a massive black Steinway piano, easily much larger than the one the Grangers had. And in the center of the room, below a low-hanging light fixture, was a billiards table with all fifteen balls racked up. There were wooden cues hanging off the two long sides of the table, which Kellen grabbed.

"Have you played eight-ball pool before, Hermione?" he asked.

She shook her head 'no'.

"It's pretty easy to play… but hard to master," Kellen elaborated. "The point is to pocket all of your balls – either solids or stripes – then when all that's left is the eight ball, you call the pocket you intend to put that ball in, and if you succeed, you win."

He handed her one of the wooden cues. "If you want me to crack, I don't mind." Hermione nodded, and Kellen placed the white cue ball on the table. "You have to use the cue ball to pocket the balls," he explained. "If I get a solid or a stripe in when I crack, then I have to put the rest of the solids or stripes in. If I don't get any in, then we can choose whichever one we want. Obviously, you want to take the easiest shots possible."

He removed the plastic rack from the fifteen balls on the other side of the table, and placed the cue ball a couple of feet from the other end. He leaned over the table, and casually slid his cue against the white cue ball, creating a neat break when it hit the fifteen racked balls. None of them went in, though a solid orange ball was just an inch or two from one of the side pockets.

"Your turn," Kellen said. He pointed at the orange ball. "You might want to try for that one, as it's a pretty easy shot. Just hold your cue like so, rear back with your other hand, and hit the cue squarely in the middle. Much of billiards is based on simple geometry."

He stood back to watch Hermione take her shot. "You can also hit the cue ball on other parts, which creates something called English. That changes the natural spin and even direction of the cue ball, which can be important because you really don't want to scratch while pocketing your balls. That means, the cue ball goes into the pocket… that's a pool no-no; especially when you're wanting to pocket the eight ball… that's an automatic loss right there."

She leaned over, and very carefully pointed her stick at the cue ball. As she was quite skilled with geometry, she was able to get a good angle to pocket the solid orange ball. She hit the cue ball near the center, and was successfully able to pocket the orange ball, though she did come close to scratching as the cue ball ended precariously close to the side pocket.

"I got it in," she exclaimed. "Now what?"

"You go again," Kellen replied. "You keep going until you scratch, or if you don't get a solid in one of the pockets."

"Okay," replied Hermione as she went for a yellow ball not far from the corner pocket. She took aim, and nearly pocketed the yellow, but her angle was just a degree or two off, so it bounced off the rims of the corners, but it at least put her in prime position for her next turn.

"You're doing pretty well," Kellen said. He then took aim at a red striped ball in the other corner on the same side of the table, and pocketed it with ease. "You play the ball as it lies, unless the other person scratches," he explained.

The game went back and forth for about fifteen minutes. Kellen was down to the eight ball, while Hermione had two solids left. "Corner pocket," Kellen declared as he pointed to the far corner with his cue. He took aim, but hit the cue ball a little too far to the right, causing the little white ball to slowly roll to the side pocket. Kttchunk!

Kellen hung his head in shame.

"What happened?" Hermione asked innocently.

"You won," Kellen said, sheepishly. "I scratched on the eight ball… that's a loss right there."

"Oh. Well, good game then," Hermione said. "I'll play again if you want."

Kellen shrugged. "Sure, why not. Do you think you can crack this time?"

Twenty minutes later, Hermione couldn't help but smile. She had beaten Kellen twice in a row – and this time, without the assistance of a scratch. "Best three out of five?" she asked.

"Ehh, in a bit I suppose," Kellen said with a sigh. "Let's see if Wyatt has some games we can play on the Super NES." The two friends went to the television in the corner where Kellen went through a dozen titles. "Hunh. Street Fighter Two. That's a new one." He plugged the cartridge into the console and started it up.

"Have you played this before, Kellen?" asked Hermione.

Kellen chuckled. "Nope. But there's a manual for it… and it looks like there's a two player mode."

"Oh, good," said Hermione. "Maybe it's another opportunity for me to kick your arse again." Kellen couldn't help but groan.

When it came time to pick their fighters, Hermione chose Chun-Li as she was the only female character, while Kellen selected Guile. They paused the games to study the manual and learn their respective character's special moves, and proceeded when they were ready.

At the end, once again it was Kellen on the losing end. "You beat me again, Hermione," he said, with minor annoyance in his voice.

"You can't be great at everything, Kellen," giggled Hermione.

"No, I suppose I can't…" Kellen decided it would be best to keep his mouth shut as he really didn't want to start another argument with his best friend. The last one was ugly, and he hated that he couldn't talk to her all day. It would be even more awkward on the farm, he figured.

"Again?" she asked.

"Not right now," Kellen said rather glumly. He forced a smile. "I'm glad you're having a good time… I just want to beat you at something today," he half-joked.

"Kellen," Hermione said in her serious-but-sweet voice. "Even if you don't beat me, that doesn't change how I feel about you. You're still my knight in shining armor." She gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

Kellen couldn't help but feel his cheeks heating up. "While you're in the business of showing me up, why not do it on the piano?" He lowered his voice to barely above a whisper. "You play the piano beautifully… I just want to hear you play again."

"And I want you to serenade me on the guitar," giggled Hermione.

Kellen flashed a radiant smile. "Deal."

The children plopped down on the bench, and Kellen waited patiently as Hermione warmed up. She played Pachobel's Canon in D… near the end, she heard some light sniffling. She looked to her side and saw Kellen, reduced to tears.

"That… that's the most beautiful song I've ever heard," Kellen said. "Thank you for sharing your gift with me." He embraced her tenderly as he whispered in her ear. "I don't like to think I'm a sissy, but Pachobel gets to me every time."

"I don't think you're a sissy at all," replied Hermione. "You're brave… yet you're cultivated and sensitive." She started to giggle. "I've kept my end of the deal up. It's your turn now."

Kellen grinned. "When you're right, you're right." He found his father's blue Rickenbacker guitar locked up in a plastic case, so after he had plugged everything in, he grabbed one of the picks and asked Hermione to help him tune the six-stringer. After everything was tuned to his satisfaction, he asked Hermione if she had any requests.

She looked upward in thought, then smiled. "Norwegian Wood. You sang that wonderfully."

Kellen returned the smile. "You got it." He sang the classic Beatles song in a wonderful tenor, earning him a warm hug after he had finished.

Hermione whispered in Kellen's ear during their tender embrace. "You win this round." A huge smile crept on Kellen's face.

### ###

At dinner, Wyatt asked Kellen and Hermione if they wanted to play Kick the Can with some local kids when it got a little darker out. "Dane and Thane Van Slyke from soccer camp are coming over in just a bit, and maybe we can get Heidi Gall to come over too. She lives next door… which is almost a half mile away."

"Kellen's told me about that game," Hermione said. "I've never played it, but it sounds like a lot of fun. I don't think that's a very common game in the United Kingdom."

"It's not," chuckled Kellen. "But I think you'll have fun playing it. Basically, there's a person that acts as a jailer, and they have to capture the rest of the kids. If there are kids in jail, one of the free kids needs to come back to the jail area and kick the can to bust everyone else out. It's more fun when there's at least 4 or 5 kids playing."

"Ooh, that sounds wonderful," squealed Hermione. "I'd be down for that!"

About twenty minutes later, the front door rang. Wyatt opened it and invited the Van Slyke twins inside – Dane and Thane. They looked to be about Wyatt's age, as they were clearly smaller than either Kellen or Hermione. The boys were still in their soccer practice uniforms and were caked in mud and sweat.

Hermione did a double-take when she saw Wyatt's friends – from a distance, they did look a bit like younger versions of Fred and George Weasley. They had flame-red hair, and countless freckles on their face, and seemed to have the same penchant for mischief as they kept asking Wyatt to pull their finger.

"Kellen, why don't you go down the road and see if Heidi's game," Wyatt suggested. "She should be home by now."

"Well, we probably can't get started until around eight thirty or so, but I suppose she can come here for a bit," replied Kellen.

"I'd like to go with you," Hermione said.

"Are you sure?" asked Kellen. He looked down on the floor for a moment. "Erm… from what I'm told, Heidi has a bit of a crush on me… I don't want to give her the wrong idea…"

"Then I'll be there to make sure she keeps her grubby hands off you," replied Hermione.

"We're not officially dating right now," countered Kellen. "I mean, a couple of years from now would be a different story…"

Hermione threw her head back and laughed. "Oh Kellen, will you relax already?" She gave him a playful shove before they made their way out the front door to go to their neighbor's house. The two of them followed the gravel road to the Gall's house, which as Wyatt said, was about a half mile away. Kellen knocked on the front door to see if Heidi was available for Kick the Can. A somewhat heavy-set middle-aged woman in an apron answered the door and gave Kellen a rather disapproving look.

"Um, hi Mrs. Gall," Kellen said. "We're playing Kick the Can at our place, and I was wondering if Heidi could play a few rounds with us?"

Mrs. Gall sighed, and called for Heidi, who was ostensibly upstairs at the time. "Oh, hi Kellen," squeaked the girl as she saw him from the middle of the staircase. "Who's your friend? I don't remember seeing her before." She looked to be in the year between Kellen and Wyatt. She wore her long golden blonde hair in a single braided pigtail, and wore a Minnesota Twins baseball cap and a softball jersey with denim shorts. She was about to trot off with Kellen and Hermione, but Mrs. Gall grabbed her by the wrist and gave her a glare of warning.

"Heidi, you be careful out there this evening. I want you back by ten o'clock sharp," she said in a hushed tone. Her eyes darted to Kellen, and then back to Heidi. Her voice became an ominous whisper. "I don't trust that freak… you need to run straight home if you see any funny business." Hermione was able to overhear the conversation; needless to say, her jaw dropped hearing how Heidi's mother described Kellen.

Heidi nodded. "But he's a nice boy, Mom. He'd never hurt me…"

"He wouldn't do it on purpose, my child," Mrs. Gall countered. "But surely you remember the fish tank incident at school a couple of years ago? Or the out-of-control merry-go-round? He's got some weird powers… he most likely gets it from his grandmother, who's a looney old broad from the Old Country. You better keep both eyes open whenever you're with him."

"All right, Mom. I'll be careful," Heidi said as respectfully as she could, and her mother released her grip.

"You're not a freak, Kellen," Hermione whispered in Kellen's ear as they left the Gall's property. "Don't let those hurtful words get to you."

"She's always thought I was a little weird," Kellen said casually. "I'm not offended, honest." He then turned his attention to Heidi. "It's been a while, Heidi. How have you been?"

Heidi dug the toe of her sneaker in the dirt. "I've been all right… I missed you this past year. It hasn't been the same without you." She smiled at Hermione, then thrust her hand out. "I'm Heidi Gall, by the way. I don't recall seeing you before. Are you new here?"

Hermione shook her head, smiling sweetly. "I'm a friend of Kellen's at his new school, actually. And I'm just visiting for the week. My name's Hermione. Hermione Granger. It's nice to meet you, Heidi." She smiled as she accepted Heidi's hand.

Heidi giggled. "We have the same initials!" She scrunched her nose. "Also, you sound British. Kellen's mother's British." She arched an eyebrow. "You two aren't related, are you?" Both Kellen and Hermione shook their heads.

"Your mum is wrong about Kellen," Hermione said. "Those are some very hurtful things she said about Kellen… surely she doesn't believe that?"

Heidi shrugged. "I don't know why she's afraid of Kellen or his family. He's always been a nice boy to me, though he's been a little on the shy and quiet side." She smiled at Kellen. "She doesn't know Kellen like I do… or like you do, for that matter." She gave Hermione a knowing look. "I can tell you're very fond of Kellen. He doesn't make friends very easily, and I'm glad to see he's made one friend at his new school."

Kellen looked at his wristwatch. "So… we've got about two hours to kill before you're due back. That should be enough time for a few rounds of Kick the Can, and maybe even ditchum. It's been a while since I played those."

The three children walked back to the Grimseth's farm, where they joined up with Wyatt, Dane and Thane, and played several games of Kick the Can and ditchum in the twilight.