Disclaimer: Disclaimer: Nope, not mine. If it were we would be celebrating a very different epilogue, you know. Everything you can recognize from Twilight belongs to Stephanie Meyer. The legends about vampires and their explanations are taken from "The Twilight Companion" by Lois H. Gresh.
A/N: And so I'm back to writing HP fanfiction, lol. After a period of really busy real life, and the lack of inspiration, I've finally found something I want to write, for which I'll try to make time to grant all of you regular updates as my usual, however I won't promise anything. Last year of university is a bitch in terms of free time. I hope my (very limited) writing ability hasn't become too rusty in the meantime.
Anyway, this is kind of a crossover with Twilight, this means it will obviously deal with vampires. I haven't read those books but the movie fascinated me so I'm going to. For this fic though, any referring to Twilight you might recognize is a reference to the movie, which I don't know if it changes things from the book. Also, to adjust the HPverse to the Twilight story (somewhat) it needs to be quite AU, so you're warned about that too.
Well, enough chatting, let's start with the chapter, shall we? *laughs* This one will be from Hermione's POV, and some other parts of the story will be too. I'm sure you can guess which role Hermione will have in the story compared to Twilight just from this *laughs again*
The Cold Ones
Chapter One: Back to England
I never thought I'd go back to the United Kingdom. I moved to France with my parents when I was seven, to Marseille to be more precise. We used to live on the outskirts of London, and both my parents had jobs as dentists there, jobs they loved very much and in which they were both successful. We weren't exactly wealthy, but we were quite comfortable, and life in London was ok I guess. I didn't have many friends, true, but I didn't care much. The boys and girls at my primary school were too childish anyway.
All of this to say that we didn't have any problem in London that we needed to go abroad to escape. However, my mother has always been a bit obsessed with France, really, so we usually spent most of our summer holidays there. I, thus, learned to love the country from a very young age. To tell the truth, France has always held a special place in both my parents' hearts, since it was there they met for the first time, and eventually fell in love when they were teenagers like I am now, so my father Charlie didn't object much when Michaela, my mother, suggested we consider moving to France.
I don't know if my life would have been much different had we stayed in England, but I doubt it. After all, my primary concern has always been to be top of my class and to prepare for life after school, and Beauxbatons is one of the best schools in the world for witchcraft and wizardry.
That's right. I, Hermione Jane Granger, sixteen years old, am a witch. A witch who has spent the last six years of her life in a world she didn't even know existed until she was eleven years old, and the Headmistress of the French school came to our door to explain to me and my family all about the Wizarding world. Well, all that needed to be explained, at least. From her I learned that I was a Muggle-born witch, where Muggle means non magical, just like my parents. However, Madame Maxime immediately reassured me that being Muggle-born didn't mean I was bound to be less powerful or skilled than any Half-blood or Pureblood.
It was an easy decision for me to choose to claim a place in the world I belonged to, although it pained me that I would be away from my family for the biggest part of the year. However, Beauxbatons has quickly become my second home, and while just like in primary school I don't have many friends there, the few I have are really special to me. Besides, I am not going to school to make friends, right? I mean, that's not the most important reason for going to school. Getting high marks and learning all that I can is my real focus there, and that will earn me the respect of all the teachers, and most of my schoolmates, even those who think I'm only a bookworm and a know-it-all can't help admitting that I've got the highest marks.
I'm proud of that, and my parents are too. Of course, they don't understand most of what I tell them when I come back home from school, but they understand that I'm doing well, and the fact I've been a Prefect for the last two years is something they can understand and relate to.
However, there are things in the Wizarding world that are better left unsaid to someone who doesn't live in it. For example, the fact that in England there's a madman named Voldemort who wants to rule the world, both magical and Muggle, and that there's been a war against him going on for years. Or all the dark or dangerous creatures that inhabit the Wizarding world, like Vampires, werewolves, and dragons. Not that I had any close contact with them, but Fleur Delacour did a couple years ago when she went to Hogwarts for the Tri-Wizard tournament. She had to battle a dragon in her first task.
Hogwarts…I didn't go there for the Tournament, I was too young to be part of it, but I've read lots about the school. The Headmaster is Albus Dumbledore, supposedly one of the most powerful wizards alive, and the only one Voldemort seems to fear.
It should be exciting to learn from him, although he doesn't actually teach any subjects.
So, here I am, sitting on my bed, holding a letter from the Headmistress.
Dear Miss Granger,
Your academical results in the years you spent here at Beauxbatons
have been astounding, as our faculty often told you. We have a tradition
going on with Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, to encourage
fraternization by exchanging one seven year student every year.
Beauxbatons has always chosen the most worthy for this exchange, and you
can easily guess that out of all the students who will be attending their last year
here next term, you're the most qualified for this reward.
Of course, you're under no obligation to accept, and I don't expect a reply straightaway.
Think about it, but know that I strongly suggest you claim this opportunity to further
grow and mature by being part of a different culture.
Beauxbatons Headmistress,
Madame Maxime
What should I do? The idea of knowing a different school, different teachers, supposedly Hogwarts employs some of the best specialists on Potions, Transfiguration and Charms you could find in the Wizarding World, and last but not least a different magical society is alluring.
I guess I should talk with my parents about it. I absent-mindedly give the owl a treat, and it hoots appreciatively before flying out of the window.
--
"Mum, Dad" I start that night at dinner. I had all day to mull over the letter and decide if I wanted to go or not. If I didn't, it would have been pointless to talk to my parents about it, wouldn't it? "Today I received a letter from the Headmistress. She informed me that I've been chosen for a student exchange with Hogwarts School, you remember I told you about it a couple years ago?"
"Sure, pumpkin. Isn't it in England, or something?" dad says, while neatly cutting his steak.
"Scotland, actually" I automatically correct him. "The Headmistress says it's a tradition between the two schools to exchange a seventh year student to give him, or her, the chance to know a different country, society, and such. They think with my grades, I'm the most worthy, but I'm not in any way obliged to accept" I explain.
"You want to go" Mum says. She always was perceptive of what I was feeling. I guess all mothers are, in some way. I wonder how they do it.
"Well, yeah, I'd like to" I admit, nervously picking at my food. "I know this is sudden, but thinking about it, it won't be much different from going to Beauxbatons. I'd still be away from here for nine months, and travelling is much faster in the Wizarding world than in the Muggle one so coming here for holidays wouldn't be a problem at all"
My parents exchange a look, then they both sigh. "You're seventeen now, Hermione. You're growing up. Sooner or later we will have to accept that you will be moving away from home and living on your own, and there's nothing we can do to stop that, as much as we'd like you to remain our baby forever. You will be our baby forever, but we have to let you make your own choices. If you want to go, then you should go" Mum says, squeezing my hand to let me know she was really ok with that. Dad nods his approval too, although I know it pains him to see his little girl growing up and getting more and more independent. I guess it's part of being the father of a teenage girl, Muggle or witch makes no difference.
I thank them for being so understanding, and we finish eating while making small talk. I like how relaxed we can be with each other, and sometimes it's what I miss the most about being away from home.
--
The next day, I send my reply to Madame Maxime, telling her I accept the exchange, and asking her details on how it will happen. I know my owl, Phoebe, can fly fast, but I'm pretty surprised when I see her back in my room that night, a thick scroll attached to her right leg.
"Hey, girl, you outdid yourself this time" I tell her while affectionately running my hand on her head, ruffling her feathers. She hoots softly, and gently pecks at my finger with her beak.
"I know it was important" I smile, untying the parchment and pushing a small bowl with water and owl treats in front of her. "You deserved it" I wink at her and she seems to nod before she tucks into her meal. You really have to wonder about these owls, they almost seem to lack only the ability to speak. At least, that's what I think about Phoebe.
Opening the letter, I find it filled with details about how to reach Hogwarts. It says I have to go to King's Cross, in London, then on Platform 9 ¾ and from there board the Hogwarts Express. It's not really different from how you travel to Beauxbatons, I only wonder about that strange platform number. Here we have a whole station dedicated to Beauxbatons so we don't need to hide our train between the Muggle ones.
Attached to the letter there is a book list for seventh year.
"Let's see, I could order these by owl and start a bit of reading before the holidays end" I muse. I'm particularly interested by the Defence Against the Dark Arts books, Don't Run, Fight Back With The Right Spells and There's A Dark Creature Next Door, How To Recognize It.
However, the book list mentions also black robes are needed, and Beauxbatons uses a different colour, so I'll have to buy them too. I guess I better plan a trip to this Diagon Alley place. Besides, it will give me a chance to start to get acquainted with the English Wizarding society.
--
We are two weeks away from the start of school, and I've agreed with my parents that they would accompany me to Diagon Alley two days before September 1st, and we would stay there until the day of my departure to Hogwarts, so I could attend my shopping and take a look around, so to say. This of course means that I'll have to wait to read the new school texts until those two days. At least, I can still revise what I did last year to make sure I am ready.
Revising also has the added effect of stopping me from being nervous. It is silly, really, but I wonder how I'll fit. I mean, the other students will have known each other for years, and there I would be, new and knowing no one. The language is not going to be a problem, my parents never expected me to forget English so we speak it at home and I also read a lot of novels.
I better reread my Transfiguration essays from last year, and worry about it when the time comes, otherwise I'm going to make drive myself crazy.
--
Finally, the moment of leaving came. I'm currently grabbing my bag so that I can follow my parents and disembark from the plane that took us to Heathrow. I suggested we travel through the Floo or a Portkey, after all being of age I could do magic at home and I have the skills to do either but my parents were firm on that. They wanted to travel by Muggle means, and so we flew to London.
I have to admit that doing something the Muggle way once in a while feels good. It's like I'm not forgetting where I came from.
Slowly, we walk out of the plane and into the airport. Having been there many times before, my father has no problem leading us to the right exit and to a queue of taxis. Sliding in next to my mother, I wonder if I'll be able to find the entrance to Diagon Alley. According to Professor McGonagall, Hogwarts Transfiguration Professor, who took it upon herself to give me all the information I might need about the Wizarding part of London, only magical people can see the Leaky Cauldron. She told me this through a very long letter and a small book she sent me once Madame Maxime confirmed I would take part in the student exchange.
The letter also contained a map so we give the driver the address and then we discuss the plans for the upcoming holidays. But I'm too excited about this new adventure that is about to start to concentrate on the chatting my parents are doing.
"Honey, you seem distracted. Are you alright?" my father asks me.
I smile, nodding. "Yeah, I'm ok. Just a bit nervous"
"You'll be fine" my mother reassures me squeezing my hand.
When we finally arrive, I help my father unload my trunk from the taxi, then while he pays I look around, my eyes scanning the buildings for the Wizarding pub. And sure enough, there it is.
"It's there" I say to my parents, who look where I'm pointing but come up with confused faces. I grin stupidly, and lead the way. Pushing the door open, I take a look around. The pub seems almost deserted, only a few patrons occupy the tables, and then there's an old man, obviously the bartender, who is cleaning the bar with a rag. Hearing the door open, he looks up and smiles at us.
"Welcome to the Leaky Cauldron. I'm Tom, the bartender. How can I help you?" he says.
Since my parents are still speechless at how the pub came into view for them once I opened the door, I do the talking.
"Hi Tom. I'm Hermione Granger and this is my family. I understand that you have rooms here, can we have one for a couple days?"
"Oh, of course. Number three, up the stairs and at the end of the corridor" he says, picking up some keys and handing them to me. I nod, and start walking toward the stairs, followed by my awed parents.
Finally, I'm back in England.
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