Harry Potter and the American Exchange Student (and it's about bloody time)

Harry Potter and the American Exchange Student

(And it's about bloody time!)

"Hey, is she new?" Ron asked, nudging Harry. They were just leaving their last class of the day, Herbiology. The girl in question, an average-looking young woman about their age with auburn hair pulled back in a pony-tail and delicate silvery glasses, was standing to one side of the hallway, looking rather lost.

"Well, I've never seen her," Harry answered, shrugging.

"Yes, she's new," Hermione said, catching up with them. She had been asking Madam Sprout some questions about their latest notes. She looked at the new student. "She's a transfer student from Salem."

"She's American?" Ron asked incredulously. "What's she doing here?"

"Obviously studying here," Hermione replied.

"What, Ron, do you have something against Americans?" Harry asked jokingly.

"No, not really, I suppose," he answered.

"Classic tourists, Americans," Hermione said. "And they're dreadful know-it-alls."

"And coming from you," Ron shot back, "that's got to mean something." Hermione glared at him.

"Oh no," Harry said. "Look."

The American was no longer alone. Malfoy, along with his 'posse' of Crabbe and Goyle, was approaching the girl - and judging by their expressions, they were definitely not rolling out the welcome wagon.

"Come on," Harry said. "No one should have to deal with their shit on their first day." He and Ron exchanged significant glances. The three started pushing their way through the crowd that had gathered in the halls.

As they near them, they could hear Malfoy saying in his priggish drawl,

"Look what we have here: an American - and a mudblood too, from what I've heard. If there's anything worse than an American or a mudblood, it's an American mudblood." He smirked at the girl, Crabbe and Goyle looming menacingly behind him. The girl seemed unfazed, looking all three of them up and down in contemptuous silence. Finally, however, she spoke.

"Oh, I don't know," she said quietly, a small smile on her lips. "I think what's worse than an 'American mudblood' like me is an officious, ignorant, inbred little dick like yourself." Her eyes, a limpid hazel, stared fearlessly at him.

Malfoy was, for once, struck dumb. His mouth opened and closed like a fish, but no sound emerged. Crabbe and Goyle, who were already dumb, merely looked puzzled by all the big words.

"But what can you expect?" the girl went on sweetly. "It's obvious from your attitude you're one of those 'pureblooded' little shits who like to think they're better than everyone. After so many generations of only fucking your cousins, the gene pool tends to get a little shallow, you know? I'm actually impressed you can find your way out of the room in the morning, let alone have the ability to speak. It would be too much to expect something intelligent to come out of your mouth."

The scene was rapidly becoming surreal. Throughout this outpouring of insults, the American's low, sweet tone never changed, her voice never rose. "But you know what's the worst thing? The worst thing in the world is people who go out of their way to make others feel like shit, especially when they've just traveled thousands of miles to get here."

The American drew her wand out of a pocket with calm nonchalance. She examined it calmly, not even looking at the three silent boys before her. Malfoy seemed rather intimidated by this and stepped back, only to blunder into his cronies. Finally, the girl raised her gaze to look directly into Malfoy's eyes, a strange smile on her face.

"You have somewhere else to be, don't you," she said softly.

To Harry's astonishment, Malfoy and his two hangers-on turned around and left without a word.

"What in the..." Harry said in a half-whisper.

"That was the neatest compulsion spell I've ever seen," Hermione said in a tone of awe. "Not that I've seen many - they're not exactly polite."

"Say what?" Ron said.

"She just made them leave," Hermione explained slowly, as if to a child. "With a spell."

"I didn't hear her say anything," Harry said doubtfully.

"Not all spells are spoken," Hermione said, going into lecture mode. "Some of the more subtle ones use only the strength of will."

"An American? Subtle?" Ron said.

"You know, I'm right here," the American broke in pointedly.

The trio looked at her, startled. Luckily, she no longer had that odd look on her face.

"Was that the way you greet new people here, or are they the colossal assholes they appear to be?" She gave a real, if rather cynical, smile.

"No, those are just the resident pricks of Hogwarts," Harry said.

"Well, glad to know I didn't make some horrendous U.K. faux pas," she answered. She put her wand back in her pocket. "I'm Becca, by the way. Hogwarts' resident American - if you can't tell already."

"Ron, Hermione, and uh...Harry."

Becca's eyebrows raised, and a flash of recognition entered her face.

"That Harry?" Harry nodded resignedly, waiting for the inevitable comment, but Becca had turned her attention elsewhere. "Hermione? Kickass name. Everybody and their sister's named 'Becky' or 'Becca,' but no one's ever gonna say, 'Hermione Who?'. Nice to meet you three. So, what do you people do after classes around here?" The three stared at her in surprised silence, and Becca turned red under their gazes. "I mean...not that I'm, like, imposing or anything," she said quickly. "I didn't mean to sound like I was forcing myself on you guys. You're just the only people who've fucking talked to me. Jeez, do people hate Americans that much? Don't answer that," Becca added, trying to make it a joke, although her tone was obviously hurt.

"Well, we usually go back to the common rooms of our houses," Hermione said politely. "What house did you get placed in?"

"G-something-or-other," Becca said. "Or so the talking hat informs me."

"Gryffindor?" Ron asked, surprised.

"Yeah, that sounds right. The talking hat - and can I tell you how fucked up that was - spouted some poem about bravery or whatever. Almost put me in another house, though - but I am sure as hell not staying in a house that sounds like something a drunk snake would do."

"You were almost in Slytherin?" Harry said in understandable astonishment.

"Yeah, Slytherin, that was it. The talking hat said since I usually get what I want somehow and I'm hardly the nicest person on the planet - and I'm just paraphrasing, the damn thing took forever just to say that - that I would 'go farther' there. But I said, 'Look, Señor Sombrero, I'll be damned if you'll put me in the same house the Hitler of the Wizarding World graduated from, savvy? I'd rather tell them to fuck the scholarship and go home right now.' So it laughed - or at least I think it did, kinda hard to tell with a hat - and said with a stubborn streak like that, maybe I'd better be in...Gryffindor, was it? So, yeah."

There was a moment of silence while the three digested this, then Ron said,

" 'Señor Sombrero'?"

"Yeah," she answered with a laugh. "It seemed to like that. Said no one had really talked back to it for ages."

"Well," Hermione began, "We're in Gryffindor too -"

"Are you? Kickass. How are the dorms around here, anyway?"

"Uh, fine, I guess," she replied, rather taken aback. No one had interrupted one of her speeches in longer than she could remember, but Becca went on without noticing.

"Cool. So, what do people do around here? I've never been to a boarding school before - not much to do that I've seen, not even any TVs or anything. I tell you, I'm gonna go crazy without TV."

"Well, we do have homework," Hermione said. As Harry and Ron rolled their eyes, Becca gave a snort.

"Homework? Um, not to be rude or anything, but can't that shit wait until tomorrow? I mean, all I've got is a couple essays, and I don't even have those classes until after lunch. I can write those in my morning classes, for Christ's sake. It's not like they have to be typed or anything."

Ron gave a grin.

"See, Hermione? Not everyone thinks about homework 24/7. Some people have lives."

"Hey, this place has a library, right?" Becca said suddenly. "If I can't have TV, I gotta at least have something to read."

"Spoke too soon," Ron muttered.

"Well, apparently not everyone is as afraid of books as you are, Ron," Hermione said severely.

"Woah, are you guys having a fight or something? You ought to patch it up - you seem like such a cute couple."

Hermione flushed scarlet as Ron's face turned a similar red that clashed horribly with his hair. They took an unconscious step away from each other and couldn't seem to meet anyone's eyes. Harry explained,

"They're not going out or anything. They're just friends."

"Really? The way they were fighting, you'd think they were an old married couple. You guys oughta just consider it, with bickering like that. I mean, the chemistry's obviously there." The two blushed even more. Becca suddenly seemed to see their discomfort. "Oh...sorry. Look, tell me if I get too American, OK? That was a normal conversation for me, you know? But I know you Brits are kinda uncomfortable with stuff like that. No offence."

"What are you doing loitering in the halls, Mr. Potter?" Snape's familiar voice said from behind them.

Becca's eyes narrowed as Harry opened his mouth to retort. However, before he could speak, the American had schooled her face into an impenetrable mask of innocence and said smoothly,

"Oh, I'm sorry. It's my first day here, and I'm afraid I'm a little lost. I was just asking these other students how to get back to my house. I didn't realize it was against the rules to stop and ask for information, sir." Snape couldn't seem to decide what to react to, her polite tone or her insubordinate words. "Next time, I'll wander around until I find it, I guess. It's just that I didn't see any 'no loitering' signs or anything. I would have asked a teacher, but I can't seem to find any."

"I am a professor," Snape said, glowering. Harry tried to keep a straight face as an exaggerated expression of surprise came over Becca's face.

"You are? Oh, I'm sorry, Professor - I didn't realize. I was expecting someone a bit more...professional-looking, I'm afraid. My most abject apologies."

"You - how dare you -" Snape spluttered, his face turning red. Becca ignored him and turned to the three next to her.

"I can't remember all those directions," she said serenely. "Maybe you three had better show me the way. Good evening, Professor. Sorry for the misunderstanding."

Belying her last statements, Becca began walking in the direction of the Gryffindor dormitories, as Harry, Ron and Hermione followed. Snape, too stunned to follow, remained rooted to the spot. Harry and Ron both shook with laughter they were trying to keep in until they were out of sight (and hopefully out of hearing) before letting loose.

"Did you see his face?!" Harry howled, holding his sides. "I've never seen him so angry - and he can't even really do anything, you were so polite!"

"I think I may love you," Ron said between gasps of laughter. "God, first Malfoy, and now this! Harry, I'm sorry, mate, but she is my new best friend."

Hermione, however, was less than amused.

"I can't believe you just talked that way to a teacher!" she said. "Even if it was Snape."

"Oh, come on, Hermione!" Ron said. "You can't tell me you didn't find that in the least bit funny." Hermione tried to remain solemn, but started giggling too.

"OK, it was kind of funny," she admitted. "But what if he goes to Dumbledore? Or if he takes points from Gryffindor? You know he would."

"Screw him," Becca said. "He won't do anything. If he was going to, he would have done it right then. See? That's the secret to getting away with anything: act as if you have a perfect right to do what you're doing. No one questions you, because they assume you do. But what was up with him? It's not like we were even doing anything. That guy must have a major chip on his shoulder - and a special loathing for you, it seems, Harry."

"Long story," Harry, Ron, and Hermione said in unison.

"Ah. Well, forget I asked. Let's just get to Gryffindor before I use up anymore of my 'get out of an awkward situation free' cards."

"What do you mean my electronic stuff won't work?" Becca said in unfeigned horror. She clutched her gadgets to herself dramatically. "I swear to God I'll kill myself if I can't listen to my iPod! And I can't even begin to imagine a life without my laptop!"

"Muggle technology doesn't work on Hogwarts' grounds," Hermione explained again, this time with a little more sympathy.

"I still don't understand why something you listen to is called an 'Eye' Pod," Ron said.

"This is not the time for jokes," Becca said severely. "This is a crisis. How in God's name am I supposed to get any work done without my music? And I don't think I've gone more than a week without checking my email in years!"

"We seem to do fine without all that stuff," Harry said. He hadn't cared much for electronics himself since Dudley had shown such enthusiasm in having all the 'latest technology.'

"Yeah, but you're used to it. I, on the other hand, am a techno-junkie. The internet's more addictive than crack - you know that." She giggled at Ron's alarmed face. "Oh, don't take stuff literally. I almost never mean exactly what I say. But I am not joking about the gravity of this matter." Becca turned to Hermione. "Why, exactly, am I cut off from the basic necessities - namely electricity, modems, and cell phone service?"

"There's just too much magic around Hogwarts," Hermione said for what felt like the hundredth time. "It does something to Muggle technology - scrambles it, I think the term is."

"Sounds like something you'd have for breakfast," Ron remarked. "Scrambled Eye Pod. Well, maybe not." The two girls ignored him.

"Is that all?" Becca asked, sounding relieved. "Hell, I can put up a ward or two around my stuff in ten seconds flat. Fortunately I've got a wireless modem and most of the rest of it is self-contained. That just leaves the problem of power. It's not like there's any outlets around here." She sighed. "Fuck, I'll cross that bridge when I come to it. For now, all my shit's charged."

"You can do wards?" Hermione asked, impressed.

"Sure," Becca answered carelessly. "Not great ones, but these are just to shield against magic disturbances, not attacks. They'll hold, as long as I remember to reinforce them every couple of days. OK... let's see. Aegis Circumno!" She traced a circle in the air around each of her gadgets, which glowed dimly for a moment. "Now, let's see..." She pressed a button on the little white rectangle she called an iPod. She stared at the screen for a moment before giving a crow of triumph. "Yes, yes, yes! Halle-fricken-lujah! Crisis averted!" Sounds Harry supposed were music began pouring from the tiny headphones. "Ah, Disturbed. Do you listen?"

"It sounds disturbed," Ron said. "Are you sure it's supposed to be making those noises?"

"That's not noise, it's music," Becca replied in a dignified manner. "You just aren't the connoisseur I am. OK, that's enough." She turned it off and turned to the laptop. "Now to surf the net."

"You're going to go surfing?" Ron asked. "Now?"

"'Surfing' and 'surfing the net' are two totally different things, Ron," she said. "Honestly, for the son of man whose specialty is Muggle 'artifacts,' you don't seem to know the littlest thing about them. C'mere. See? This is the internet," she said as if explaining it to a child, opening Internet Explorer® because Bill Gates controls everything. "Going on it is called surfing. Hence 'surfing' the 'net.' This is a mouse. This is a keyboard. Go wild." She moved over as Ron poked the laptop warily, as if expecting it to attack him. "Oh, for heaven's sake. It won't bite you. Here, look. A website on soccer. Oh, sorry. Football. Hey, do you think they have Quidditch websites?"

As Ron tried to figure out this new toy, Becca went on,

"At least I have a DVD-R drive, so we'll be able to watch movies even if TV appears to be undiscovered as of yet around here. Hey, have you guys seen the extended version of Return of the King yet?"

"Return of the king?" Harry asked uncomprehendingly.

"Yeah, you know, Lord of the Rings 3?" When neither Harry nor Hermione (Ron was too caught up with the computer to be listening) showed any sign of recognition, Becca said desperately, "Lord of the Rings? J.R.R. Tolkien? Peter Jackson? You know, Elijah Wood, Orlando Bloom, Viggo Mortensen? Bilbo Baggins? Frodo? Gandalf? Isn't any of this ringing a bell? They made three movies a couple years ago - come on, now." Still nothing. "Dear Christ, I am in the presence of infidels! Not to have seen Lord of the Rings?! I believe I may faint, I really and honestly do! What have you seen, for God's sake?"

"I didn't exactly get to watch much of anything," Harry admitted.

"Me neither," Hermione said. "My parents didn't really believe in TV or movies."

"You can't be serious!" Becca put her hand to her forehead in a theatrical gesture. "That's no way to live. I'll have to start at the beginning with you guys. Fortunately I have a huge DVD library, so we can at least give you a foundation in the basics. Star Wars, The Godfather, Indiana Jones, Ferris Bueller's Day Off. The stuff everyone ought to see at least once."

Hermione and Harry exchanged glances. Note to self: Harry thought. Next time, just say you've seen it.