Hermione Granger And The City of Sorrowful Angels

Seagulls, Hermione theorized, must have a faster flying speed than your average owl.

That, or someone had informed Principal Delgadillo by other means, for it was only a day and a half after she had sent her acceptance letter that she received a very large parcel, containing practically everything she needed to know about Santo Domingo de Nuestra Senora de Los Angeles Llorosos School for Wizards.

As she browsed through the course list, Harry and Ron flipped through the guidebook, occasionally pointing and commenting on the pictures.

"Is it always that sunny?" Ron asked, pointing at a particular photo in which palms trees swayed in a soft breeze as the sun shone on the campus and the cheerful students walking to class.

"I guess so," Hermione said distractedly.

Ron raised his eyebrows. "I'm glad you're going and not me," he said. "When we went to Egypt, all of us turned bright red -- Mum spent hours casting cooling spells. Once one of us was cooled off enough to be able to lie down, another one was warming up again..." He looked at Hermione. "You don't get sunburned, do you?"

"I never have before..." Hermione said as she flipped back and forth between two pages. She sighed and set the list on the table. "I don't know how I'm supposed to pick only six classes," she said tiredly. "They have so many and they all sound so amazing!" She picked up the list again. "Listen: Advanced Animal Transfiguration...Medicinal Potions...Charms Theory...Endangered Magical Creatures Of The Americas...Colonization And Syncretism Of Magical Systems 1700-1900..." She shook her head. "There's just no way!"

Ron looked at Harry quizzically and mouthed "Syncretism?"

Harry shrugged, then turned to Hermione. "I'm sure you'll work it out, Hermione."

"You could always borrow that Time Turner again..." Ron teased.

Hermione glared at him, then returned to her list, jotting down a few notes on a nearby scroll.

Ron looked at the guide again, then loudly closed it and threw it on the table. "C'mon, Hermione. You're not going to be able to pick your classes until you get there! There must be something else you can do..."

Hermione looked up at the boys, then, surprisingly, set her quill down. "You're right." She smiled slightly, tinged with just a hint of sadness. "I should be spending my last weekend --"

"Don't say that," Ron protested. "It can't be your last weekend. You'll come back for the Seventh Years' Feast, won't you?"

Hermione smiled. "You're right..." She reached over the table and grasped both of their hands. "But this weekend...this weekend I'm spending with both of you."

Harry and Ron grinned. "Hey," Harry said cheerfully. "Let's see if Hagrid's managed to calm down that Grindylow he found in his bathtub."

The weekend passed by far too quickly, and it seemed like everyone in the wizarding world stopped by to wish Hermione good luck.

Fred and George came to Hogwart's not only to drop off their mother's gift (a quickly knitted jumper with green spider-like things supposed to be palm trees), but a large box of Weasley Wizard Wheezes' best sellers.

"After all," George said cheerfully. "You're going to have to show them that Hogwart's students are the undisputed Kings --"

"And Queens," Ginny put in.

"And Queens," Fred amended. "Of the practical joke."

Hermione hugged the twins tightly and laughed. Her arms were already aching from all the hugs she had given over the weekend (even to the normally reserved McGonagall, who had given her a slim volume entitled "Mince To Filet Mignon: Essential Food Transfiguration Spells"), but each person who wished her well was so kind, she had to hug them. Hagrid not only crushed her in a hug, but lifted her several feet off of the ground. Flitwick burst into tears, wrapping his arms around her waist and dampening her robe in the most embarrassing of places. Even Snape gave her an approving nod, although he couldn't resist snidely remarking that Neville would actually have to do his own potions now.

But it was now Monday afternoon, and in a small room off of Dumbledore's office at approximately 4:30, Hermione stood with her luggage. Her parents, Dumbledore, Ginny, Ron, and Harry also stood in the room, sharing expressions that could only come from feeling excitement and sadness at the same time.

Dumbledore looked at the large cuckoo clock on the wall. There were no hands on the clock, but the face was brightly colored, twenty-five different colors slowly changing as each time zone was represented. "Nearly time..." he said quietly.

Hermione turned towards her parents. Both of them smiled and hugged her tightly. "Be sure to write us," her father said.

"And be careful," her mother continued, holding her tightly and smiling sadly.

Hermione pulled away from them and turned to Ginny. Ginny smiled, hugged her tightly, and whispered something to Hermione that made her giggle. She gave Ginny another hug, then, finally, turned to Ron and Harry.

She hugged both of them tightly, trying desperately not to cry. Ron and Harry held her at the same time, resting their faces against her shoulders, taking one final moment to smell her hair, to feel her soft skin, to imprint to memory the sense of their best friend.

After a few minutes, she pulled away, sniffling, and turned to Dumbledore. She grasped the strap of her luggage and straightened. "I'm ready..." she said.

Dumbledore nodded, and held up a small silver star on a necklace. "All you need to do is touch this, and you'll be transported directly to Principal Delgadillo's office. The portkey will stay in the office until you need to return." He held it out to Hermione. "Whenever you're ready."

Hermione took the necklace, gave one final look to her parents and her best friends, then closed her eyes tightly. She grasped the star tightly, the points pressing into her palm as she felt a hook inside her, holding her up as the floor fell away, going further and further, until, suddenly, the floor was back.

She paused, took a breath, and opened her eyes.

It was an airy room, decorated in an austere Japanese style. A small waterfall flowed from one wall, magically disappearing into the floor without any spills. To the left of her, a willowy woman with long black curls smiled and held out her hand. "Hermione Granger? I'm Principal Delgadillo. Welcome to Santo Domingo's."