Summer Writing Series Challenge (July 23)
Challenge: Musical Week: The Big Cast Ensemble Piece
Challenge Conditions: Using the daily theme, choose a scene or song from any musical you like (stage
or screen) and rework it using our favorite characters.
Title: I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here
Word Count: 2,000
She hadn't seen Harry for over two years now. He had left for America immediately after the end of the Second War, wanting to create a life of his own for once, a life that's not controlled by his fame, past, or the Order of the Phoenix. At their tearful separation, Harry had produced an engagement ring that came with the promise that it would be replaced with a wedding ring the next time they saw each other. She had made him promise over and over again that he would send for her as soon as he'd settled down. Hermione Granger looked down at the engagement ring she wore on her finger. She knew Harry would fulfill his promise and that she would be reunited with him soon, but that didn't make her miss him any less.
After living in London for one year, she had moved to this remote muggle town in the outskirts of Scotland, or as Ron would call it when he came to visit her, the middle nowhere. Hermione loved her job as a librarian at the local library. For a town as small as this one was, the library was exceptionally well updated.
Several loud shouts and cheers from the outside told her it was nearly four o'clock. Because of the remote location of the town, mail only arrived once a week, in the form of a large orange truck. It's been a tradition for townspeople to line up on the street to wait for the truck every Thursday and wait for the truck. Standing up from the kitchen stool, she set the sandwich she'd been eating down and walked out the front door to join her neighbors on the street.
"There it is!" several voices shouted as a bright orange mass came into view. The truck was slowly trudging toward them.
"Oh-ho! The delivery truck is coming down the street!" Mr. Pickering from across the street cheered loudly.
"Please let it be for me!" the Pickerings' daughter said, tugging on her mother's apron excitedly.
"Remember that box of maple sugar I got for my birthday last week?" Mrs. Colby asked her husband.
"How could I not? You put it on every dish last week, even the eggs!" Mr. Colby replied dryly, regretting it immediately when his wife elbowed him sharply in the ribs.
"Oh, how I wish it's those books I just ordered!" cried the head librarian, who loved books even more than Hermione, if that was possible. "Or the new bookshelf."
"In March, I got a gray mackinaw!" Mr. Fairbourne said proudly, showing off his coat . He stumbled back indignantly when everyone shouted, "We know!"
Mrs. Beckett, Hermione's elderly neighbor, whispered softly to Hermione with a grin, "You'd think he'd get tired of saying that after three months."
Hermione grinned back. Mrs. Beckett had been like a grandmother to Hermione ever since she arrived here. She often visited the old lady at her house, where she lived on her own. Her husband had past away a few years earlier, and her two sons lived in London.
"Once, I got some grapefruit from Tampa!" Mr. Brown cried from several houses down.
"It could be curtains!" a voice called out.
"Or dishes!"
"Oh, how I wish I knew what it could be!" a little girl with two pigtails shouted up to her father.
"Or it could be something special-"
"-something very, very special-" a voice cut in.
"-just for me!"
Hermione had learned to enjoy waiting for the large truck with the rest of the townspeople, even though she didn't need to because she never got muggle mail, except for the annoying junk mail.
A boy in blue overalls pointed at the nearing truck jumping up and own. "Please don't let it pass my house."
"I'm expecting a new rocking chair," said the major.
"I hope I'm getting my raisins soon, I'm planning on baking oatmeal raisin cookies for that PTA fundraiser," the major's wife said.
"It's coming, it's coming!" the little girl in the pigtails squealed.
"Oh-ho! Don't you dare make a stop until you stop for me!" Mr. Pickering's voice boomed from across the street again.
"So, are you still expecting that letter from your young fella?" Mrs. Beckett asked, as the truck finally squelched to a stop in the middle of the street.
Hermione blushed. "Yes, Mrs. Beckett."
In the background, she could hear the major's delighted shout, "My new rocking chair! Ain't it beautiful?"
"Well, it could come today, you should be excited."
"It won't," Hermione replied, deadpanned, before she could stop her herself.
Mrs. Beckett raised an eyebrow.
"I--it won't, b-because Harry, err-sends mail in a different way and, err-it doesn't come on Thursdays," Hermione explained lamely.
"Mm-hmm" The old lady just nodded, fixing her with an unnerving stare. "You should go get your letters. That boy's been calling for you." Sure enough, a young man in an orange uniform was shouting her name, waving a stack of letters in the air above the mob of people that surrounded him.
Hermione quickly made her way over to him and took the letters from his outstretched hand. Leafing through the stack of advertisements, she thought idly about casting a junk mail deflector spell on her address. When her eyes fell upon the second to last envelope, however, she felt her heart stop. She gazed down at the unmistakable scrawl of her fiancé. Harry's handwriting was as unruly as ever, but she had never seen anything so wonderful. She wondered why he was sending the letter the muggle way and how he'd found her address. She ripped the envelope open with slightly shaking fingers and took out two slips of paper. Unfolding the larger piece, she read:
Dear Hermione,
Sorry about the muggle post. Hedwig got in a fight with the neighbors owl, I didn't think she could make the across-Atlantic trip. I can't believe it's been two years and three months since I last saw you. I've missed you. Everything is set over here, I'm finally sending for you. I've enclosed an airline ticket for you. I'll see you in a month. I love you very much.
Harry
Hermione glanced at the other slip of paper. It was, like Harry said, an airline ticket for New York City. She felt oddly light-hearted now that she knew that she would be leaving for America soon. Even the countless things she has to get done in a month could not dampen her spirit. She was going to be with Harry again.
"So, did you get your letter?" Mrs. Becket's voice startled her out of her thoughts.
"Huh? Yeah. How did you know I would be getting it today?"
"Just a feeling. Anyways, when are you leaving for America?"
Hermione regarded her with a suspicious stare, in her many chats with the old lady, she'd never mentioned the country Harry went to. "Wait, how did you know I'd be going to America? What do you know that I don't?"
"Oh, I know many things that you don't, my dear child," Mrs. Beckett returned with a smile, before walking away chuckling.
Hermione stared after the lady confusedly, before entering her own house.
* * *
The past month went by in a blur. Friends and family were notified and good-byes were said, the house and furniture to sold to a nice elderly couple, and she quit her job at the library. Now, Hermione found herself standing in the crowded airport of New York City, waiting for Harry.
"Hermione!"
She could recognize that voice anywhere; it was Harry's. When she finally located the source of the call, her heart leapt. Harry was making his way through the crowd toward her. He looked as handsome as ever, from his messy dark hair to his lean frame to his gorgeous emerald eyes.
"Harry!" She ran, pushing some people out of the way rather rudely, into his open embrace.
"Oof! Hi to you too," he laughed as he hugged her back just as tightly.
"I love you!"
"I love you, too. Remember my promise?" he asked lifting her hand, exposing the ring. "We're getting married tonight, if you still want to."
Hermione grinned broadly, "Of course I want to. I've been waiting for this moment for the past two years!"
"Come on, let's get out of here," Harry said as he led her to a taxi that was waiting outside. "It's a wizard's cab, it can take us to the Wizarding part of New York."
They settled down in the back of the car after Harry told the driver the address.
"So, how's America?"
"It's amazing. You can't believe how great it is to be able to walk down the street without having people gawking at you. And my job at the University is great, if you'd told me a couple years ago that I'd be teaching at a magical university, I'd have told you were off your rocker," Harry laughed good-naturedly.
Hermione gasped when she stepped out of the taxi. In front of her stood a large golden gate and beyond it was a gorgeous mansion-sized house with a large beautiful flower garden. "Welcome to the Potter House."
Entering into the grand hall, Hermione saw that a dozen of house-elves stood in a neat line.
"Mistress Hermione. Welcome home, ma'am," a house-elf dressed in a pink apron stepped forward and beamed. "I'm Marcie, the head house-elf of the Potter House."
"Don't worry. All the house elves here are paid," Harry said quickly before Hermione could even frown.
"Yes, ma'am, us house-elves is free here in America. Our services come at a high price but I can assure you that we is the best. We take our job very seriously and you will find no fault in our work," Marcie said proudly.
"Let me introduce you to the staff," Harry said. "Sophie will be picking all your clothes."
Sophie stepped out of the line and came up to her. She examined Hermione closely, "Green is her best color, no, blue, I think."
"Your bath is drawn by Maria."
A kind looking house-elf steeped forward and asked, "Soap?"
"Bubbles."
"Bubbles, of course!" Maria clapped her hands together.
"And Annie is going to make the bed."
"The silk sheets? No. The satin sheets, I think" Annie nodded to herself.
"I think I'm gonna like it here," Hermione smiled at Harry.
"The pool is to your left," Harry pointed to a hallway to her left.
"Is the house?"
"No, outside, silly."
"And the tennis court is your right."
"Merlin, Harry. I've never even picked up a racket!"
"Don't worry. Mr. Beech, the instructor, will teach you all you need to know!"
"I really think I'm gonna like it here."
Another house elf stepped up, "My name is Tracie. You will ring for me when you wake and I will bring your tray."
Another house elf stepped up beside Tracie, "And I'm Jack, I will come take it away when you're done."
"You won't have to lift a finger, love," Harry said.
"I think I'm gonna like it here," Hermione said dreamily. "Harry, this is the most amazing place, someone pinch me please! Ouch!"
"She didn't mean it," Marcie quickly reprimanded Tracie, who pinched Hermione's arm when she requested it.
"Oh! I is very sorry, ma'am. Terribly sorry," Tracie apologized profusely.
"That's alright. I asked for it."
"We hope that ma'am understand, your wish is our command," the house-elves all bobbed their little heads up and down in agreement.
"So, what do you think?" Harry asked.
"You're sure they're paid?"
"Thirty Galleons a week, with holidays, sick leave, and pensions."
"Well, I think I'm gonna like it here!" Hermione smiled broadly before giving Harry a loud smooch on the lips. "So, where's my bedroom?"
Harry, who had a goofy grin on his face, pointed to a staircase. "Up the stairs, and to your left. It's only temporary, though. You're moving into the master bedroom next week, after our honeymoon."
A/N: I used two songs for this challenge. Wells Fargo Wagon from the Music Man and I Think I'm Gonna Like It Here from Annie. I realize that Harry and Hermione are a bit OOC in this story, but that was the only way I could fit in the songs. I was going to use the whole "mail order bride" idea, but to do that, the whole story would've been AU. ;) The concept of "mail order bride" came about when the young single men, who had created a new life in the West during the gold rush, advertised in the newspaper for women to come west and marry them.
Also, I'll be gone to camp for a while, so there probably won't be an update for 2 weeks. Sorry.