Chapter Four - A Warm Welcome to Cleveland
Bustling and crowded, Cleveland Hopkins Airport was hectic even at this late hour. Customs in Detroit had been a nightmare and the connecting flight was even worse. Having missed her original connecting flight, Hermione hadn't registered an alarm when the ticketing agent told her he had booked her on a `puddle jumper' into Cleveland.
The small plane would have appealed to Harry's sense of adventure, but it had done nothing for her peace of mind. Especially since she could have sworn that the pilot had a Michelin road guide tucked under his arm as he made his way into the small cockpit.
Fuming, Hermione exited the walkway from the embarkation site into the reception area hoping that the airline had made good on it's promise to contact the offices of the team so that they would know that she was on a later flight.
Eighteen hours after she'd left a highly irate Ron still trying to argue with her back at Heathrow, she still wasn't certain what had possessed him to start a row over absolutely nothing this morning. She had been honestly surprised when he had offered to check on Crookshanks while she was gone considering that the two of them barely tolerated each other at the best of times.
Ron had never really gotten over the entire Scabbers incident, conveniently forgetting that his `pet' had actually been the wizard who betrayed Harry's parents in animagus form and Crooks' highly negative reactions to him were totally justified. Crookshanks, on the other hand, possessed that less than admirable feline attribute of never ever forgetting a slight, perceived or otherwise, in full bloom. Crooks' purposeful snubbing of Ron was made abundantly clear by the genuine rapport and affection he had for Harry, which was returned.
When she thanked Ron for the unexpected offer and explained to him that she'd already made arrangements for Crookshanks to have a short holiday back at Grimmauld Place, he went from being mildly annoyed and snarky to apoplectic and things had escalated from there. Shaking her head, she felt that the time was coming when the two of them wouldn't be able to postpone `the conversation' any longer.
Smiling bitterly to herself, she scanned the crowd, wondering if anyone was waiting for her. There was. Suddenly she was wondering if it was too late to get back on the plane and go wherever it was heading next. All of a sudden Thunder Bay didn't sound quite as remote as it had when the original boarding call in Detroit had been given.
Standing in front of the crowd in the reception area was a seven-foot tall hairy purple `something' that was wearing some sort of white sports jersey. The creature was holding a gaudily painted sign with her name on it. Stopped dead in her tracks, she was buffeted by the people behind her trying to enter the reception area. `Stars, on top of everything else, someone sends a cross between a pwca and that dreadful muggle dinosaur to collect me at the airport' she thought as she started hesitantly towards the towering purple and yellow sign bearer.
Silently gesturing from his sign to her and back again, the tall purple creature waved silently as she stopped in front of him. "I'm Hermione Granger" Expecting some sort of reply, she noticed that she could see the eyes of someone inside the suit giving her a cheeky wink and pointing towards a very petite blond bustling towards her, talking rapidly into a cell phone.
"I can see that her plane has landed, you idiot. What I'm not seeing is why she didn't make her original connecting flight from Detroit. And don't even let me start on whether or not that flying deathtrap you booked her on is an appropriate substitution. Call me back before morning or we'll see about having a different airline for the team's business." Snapping the phone shut with a loud crack, she looked up and smiled apologetically. "Ms Granger, I'm Terri Blackstone, media relations for the Indians. I'm so sorry that we've gotten off on the wrong foot for this. Is it too late to welcome you to America and certainly welcome you to Cleveland?" Turning a very bright, and apparently sincere, smile on Hermione, she stuck her hand out.
Laughing, Hermione took the woman's hand and shook it. "Terri, I'm certainly glad to finally be here. Please, call me Hermione. Ms Granger makes it sound as if I'd taken an offer to teach primary school. And I can't imagine why any of this would be your fault. Unless your team is responsible for the customs people in Detroit, that is."
Taking a liking to the young woman, she returned the smile and set her carryon down. "Your tall handsome escort seems to be from the `strong silent type' school." Nodding towards person holding the sign she raised an eyebrow in curiosity.
"Ack. Slider, this is Ms Granger from England. Ms Granger, this is Slider. He doesn't talk much. Ms Granger is here to observe American baseball and see if we can set something up with exhibition games in England in the next few years."
Nodding pleasantly, Hermione winked at Slider. "I'm still Hermione, Slider. I'm pleased to meet you. Hopefully you'll be able to explain this pesky `infield fly rule' to me when I go to the park on Friday."
"Sorry, Hermione. I didn't want to compound your bad impression of us by mispronouncing your name on top of everything else, so I was waiting until I heard you say it a couple of times before I attempted it. It's a lovely name, but I don't think I've ever met anyone who was named that."
"Quite alright. I've had it mispronounced every way imaginable over the years. My parents named me after a character in one of Shakespeare's plays. Even in England, it's considered a bit odd. I briefly dated an exchange student from Bulgaria who kept calling me `Herm-own-ninny'. Obviously that wasn't going to last long." Smiling wistfully, she remembered the Yule Ball with fondness and regret. "I was fifteen and trying to get another boy notice me. But it was fun for a while."
As Slider gallantly collected her carryon, Hermione and Terri headed towards luggage claim. "Did it work?" Seeing the puzzled expression in Hermione's eyes, she laughed. "The other boy, did he notice you?"
Chuckling at the irony of the question, she nodded. "He said good-bye to me this morning. What do you think?" Hermione blushed as she remembered saying `goodbye' both to a very subdued and pensive Harry at her flat, somehow feeling as if something unresolved was between them, and then an hour later to Ron the madman, with the ticket agent threatening to have the plane depart without her if they didn't stop their row and her get on the jetway that instant. Thinking back on both of their reactions to her the night of the ball, she wondered how she ever had allowed things to come to their current impasses.
"I'd say so." Smiling they headed down the escalator to baggage claim with Slider getting lots of attention from the people in the airport. "Slider's always good to draw a crowd of Tribe fans, so if things get a bit hectic, I might have him stop and let folks take pictures of him while we go out to the limo."
Reaching the baggage claim area, Hermione saw that her flight number was set for the farthest carousel. Walking past all of the travelers waiting to get their luggage, she noticed the small case that Harry had bought her last Christmas in muggle London and Arthur had enchanted so it was much roomier than it looked. Picking it up, she hefted it in her hand and smiled.
"Certainly not the clothes horse." Terri observed as they made their way towards the arrivals area. "I'm always amazed that folks can travel lightly. If I run to Erie for the day, I take more than this." Smiling wryly she led the way out into the muggy Cleveland evening.
"I learned to be a careful packer at school." Thinking about her old Hogwarts trunk that carried her for a year of school compared to the beaded bag that she, Ron, and Harry escaped with after the wedding, she delighted in the bag that Arthur had enchanted for her.
"I attended a private boarding school in Scotland so every September I carried everything I needed for an entire year in a trunk on the train. My first year I was certain that the trunk outweighed me and one of my roommates." Grinning mischievously as she hefted the bag in her hand. "I learned quickly if I was going to take everything I wanted to have with me I had to make choices about what was important."
"With so little luggage, what on Earth happened to hold you up in customs long enough to miss your connecter from Detroit?" Looking puzzled, Terri was trying to reconcile the visible luggage with the phone message that let her know that Hermione had missed her connecting flight because of difficulties getting her luggage through the customs check.
Stepping out into the muggy evening, Hermione shrugged as she looked around at the bustle that was the carpark of Cleveland's airport. "Haven't a clue. Things were going well until she saw that promotional folder you sent me in my valise. After that, she started questioning that there wasn't enough luggage, trying to see if I was hiding something. Honestly, it was incredible."
Hermione smiled wryly about everything she had been hiding, magically, and how she almost felt bad for the exasperated customs agent who was correct in her feeling that she was hiding something, several somethings actually, but had no real chance to find it. "Finally I had to use the credentials folder that my boss had provided. She kept muttering something about `Leavenworth' until I showed her this."
Holding up a slim blue folder embossed with the seal of Her British Majesty's Diplomatic Service in gold. "After that, her supervisor appeared out of thin air and suddenly everyone was ever so helpful." Shaking her head, she smiled at the look on people's faces after she used her backup plan.
"Diplomatic credentials?" Terri whistled softly as she touched them with a disbelieving look. "I thought this was just a cultural exchange plan. We send you a couple of baseball teams, you send us a couple of cricket teams and we see if we can generate any interest." Looking warily at Hermione she asked. "That is the plan, isn't it?"
Smiling, Hermione tried to look reassuring. "Of course it is. Everyone in my office has these folders. We usually never need to use them. For whatever reason that woman had made making me late and annoyed her personal agenda. So I just thought I'd repay the favor. When her boss showed up he kept mentioning something about the `Tigers'. Does that make any sense?"
Laughing, Terri almost dropped the case and the folders she was carrying. "Sorry about that. Detroit's baseball team is called the `Tigers' and they're about seven games behind us in the wild card race at the moment. That idiot must have thought you were affiliated with us and decided to do her bit for making the Tribe miserable."
Smiling broadly, she waved her hand towards a towering advertisement board featuring Cleveland baseball players. "Welcome to the great American pastime, you're now officially part of a rivalry."
-->