Yankee Accents

1Disclaimer: I do not own anything that is in this story, except the plot, and any characters that you do not recognize. Everything else belongs to J.K. Rowling! (Lyrics are 3 Doors Down).

Yankee Accents

Chapter Two: Delaware and England

Written by: Auburn Lily

I woke up today in London

As the plane was touching down

The door to Hermione's flat swung open late that night and she trudged in, sleepy but thoroughly relieved. She sighed heavily and spotted Hedwig perched on top of the television. Hedwig hooted a soft greeting to her but otherwise stayed where she remained.

Hermione removed her winter coat from around her shoulders, placing it on the back of one of the chairs that sat around her dining table, and took off her heels.

The dinner date with Jimmy had been successful to say the least. He had insisted at first that he should accompany her to London but she managed to convince him otherwise. She had also managed to arrange with the hospital to take her leave for two months. She figured that this was a long time but Jimmy insisted that she take it. So she had consented. He had even bought her plane ticket for her. It left that following morning.

"Oh Hedwig," Hermione muttered. "Now I have to go back and I really don't want to." She walked into the back room, took off her clothes, and took another shower before beginning to pack. She didn't have many clothes; probably enough to get her through one week before it was laundry time again so it took barely any time to pack the clothes she planned to take. She put her make-up bag in her suitcase and a pair of shoes went into a duffel bag that had sat in the back of her closet for years.

Her study was empty, except for a few books that she had never read and her out-dated computer that hadn't been used in years. She glanced around, seeing that there was nothing in the room that she needed to take, and then walked back into her living room and turning on the tellie. It predicted snow for every region in the United States except for where she lived and of course the southern states, but that was understood. She sighed again. She had missed that about England; it was always snowing.

"Hedwig," Hermione said. Hedwig's head perked up out of her wing and she looked at Hermione with inquisitive eyes. "Hedwig, was it snowing when you left?" Hedwig hooted softly and tucked her head under her wing again, before Hermione drifted off to sleep as well.

---

She woke up at four and glanced at the T.V., seeing re-runs of some show from the fifties before laying her head back down on the armrest of her couch. Her plane left in two hours and she couldn't think about boarding it.

She sat up and glanced at Hedwig, who was still snoozing peacefully, before standing up and nudging her awake.

"Here," she said. "You need to get something to eat, and then you should probably head off." She walked to her fridge and searched through it, looking for some owl-edibles, to no avail. She turned to her pantry, finding some old crackers, and poured a handful out to feed Hedwig.

"Here you go. I'll leave that window open for you so when you're done, you can just leave." Hedwig glided over on her wings, and began to peck at the old crackers. Hermione walked over to a window, and opened it up widely enough for Hedwig to be able to fly through. She then walked back to her bedroom, got dressed in her traveling clothes, and pulled her hair back into a tight twist. She slipped on a pair of shoes, and grabbed her few bags before looking around her destroyed apartment home.

She walked back out into the front rooms, her shoes clicking on the hardwood flooring, and saw that Hedwig had gone, leaving a few crumbs behind her that Hermione didn't feel like cleaning up. She walked out the door, locking it behind her. She then stored all her bags in her car before making her way to the office building where she paid her apartment bill for the next two months, so that she wasn't evicted.

She drove to the airport, in a sort of daze and before she knew it, she was handing her luggage to the luggage carriers and then boarding the plane to London. She was sat next to a man who was already asleep, mouth hanging open, and the window. She pulled her hair out of the pins that it was held up by and combed through it with her fingers.

'I'm really going back,' she thought silently. 'I thought this day would never, ever come.'

Hermione briefly shut her eyes, allowing visions of memories flash past her eyes. She remembered good times and bad times; she saw happy occasions and glum ones. And they all came from the time period that she spent in Britain. None of them came from Delaware.

She opened her eyes again, only to hear the co-pilot announce that it was time for take-off, and ask if they could please fasten their seat belts now. Hermione did so without question, and glanced out the window for her last picture of Delaware for two months. Her mind's camera clicked, and she tucked the vision away in a file entitled "Rainy Days and Plane Take-offs."

She felt the plane turn and roll down the runway, gathering up speed, and just before the planes nose tilted towards the sky Hermione snapped her eyes shut, only to relive and savor the times she and Harry or Ron had flown on their broomsticks. It was so different from anything else she had ever felt and while she doubted that she could ever understand or appreciate Quidditch, she was at least able to empathize with the breath-taking experience that flying afforded her.

As soon as the planes ascent into space had leveled out, Hermione reclined her chair all the while keeping her eyes shut, preparing herself for the eight-hour flight. She usually preferred not to eat on flights; she was prone to motion sickness and she did not usually enjoy the movies the flight attendants popped into the players. At the moment it was some muggle film entitled The Labyrinth.

Speaking of muggles, Hermione had chosen to live as one for the last nine and a half years. She figured the less she practiced magic the less she would yearn for home.

It hadn't worked all that well.

Only her parents knew where she had run off to and they hadn't argued with her nearly as much as she assumed they would. Of course her mother had gotten all teary-eyed and emotional, and her father had deemed it necessary to juxtapose his wife's reaction. He had acted stubborn and stoical to say the least. But in the end they had understood why she had to leave.

Now however, she was coming back and she hadn't called or anything to tell them she was coming. She wondered what they would do when she dropped her bags on their front doorstep, and retrieved her old key from the cavernous depths of her purse. She supposed they might imagine they were seeing a ghost. All that would matter however, is that she was home. They would be so pleased they would probably throw a party in her honor. She hoped they wouldn't. She supposed that enough chaos and raucous from her friends and their families would result upon her return.

All she could see in her minds eye was Harry in the Leaky Cauldron, awaiting her arrival. All she could envision was Ron's shocked face when she showed up at St. Mungo's. And she couldn't think of what Draco would do if he saw her strolling the streets of London after almost ten years of absence from the country.

The man next to her grunted loudly, awakening her from her reverie she had escaped to. She shifted uncomfortably next to him, undoing her seat belt on the way and turned her entire body to the window, to drift into a slight, drowsy sleep.

---

She awoke a good while later to the co-pilots voice, which was announcing their descent into the hazy, snowy airport that was London. Hermione fastened her seat belt once more around her slim waist, and looked out the window to her hometown.

From a bird's eye view, it looked grey and black, with splotches of white coloring here and there. The streets were wet and covered in inky-slush and spiraling church spires stretched their fingers to the sky. Sooty smoke emitted from many chimneys, and heavy red brick was in some places scorched from fires. Many trees in the parks that littered the city were naked skeletons of what they used to be, black and stoical.

London was really a gorgeous city, one of the most gorgeous in the entire world.

As soon as the plane landed and stopped all motion, many people rushed to get off. Hermione just sat and stared out of the tiny window until only a few people had yet to depart the plane. She grabbed her purse, which was the only carry-on she had brought with her and made her way to the luggage pick-up station. Upon retrieving her suitcase and duffel bag, she went outside to haul a taxi.