The Exchange Programme

The Exchange Programme

Chapter Two.

"So you wanna go or what?" Greg asked me over dinner that night. I sighed. "I don't know."

"Well, you do have 3 months to decide."

I swallowed my lasagna and nodded. "Yeah, it's great that we have our vacation the same time they begin the school year."

x

"Did Prof Gates speak to you about the exchange programme to England in September?" Fi caught up with me the next morning before my Advanced Divination lecture.

"Yup. You going?"

"Sure! Hey babe, it's England we're talking about."

"Yeah," I sighed, "I know."

x

Well, it was either Architecture or the UK.

"Mom?" I approached my female parental unit rather tentatively that night.

"Yes dear?"

She didn't look up from grading her pop quizzes on Typical Magical Dialects. (Mom is a Magical Tongues professor.)

"I was just wondering... When you were at university, did you ever take an amazingly tedious subject combination before?"

Mom looked up and smiled.

There was silence for a while.

"Well," I dejectedly turned around, "I guess not, you being a first class honours student and everything... You must never have made wrong choices."

"I studied in the International Wizardry Seminary of Hong Kong when I was your age and yes, I made a mistake of taking Mermish and... Moving Tapestry."

"What?! You took moving tapestry?!" I gawked.

Mom laughed and nodded. "I did."

"And?"

"Well... I quit Moving Tapestry to go on an exchange programme to San Francisco."

I laughed as Mom continued, "I met your dad. I finished up my studies in San Francisco, doing a minor in History, and then moved to Heineland to get married."

She then looked at me pointedly.

Grinning, I gave her a hug. "Thanks Mom."

x

The people going on the exchange programme were hand-picked by the deans of each school in the university. There were 6 schools altogether, Science, Arts, Prophecy, Magical Technology, Business and Sports.

Fiona was selected by her dean but Brett rejected the offer due to the internship at some magical creatures farm. ("It's the call of the wild!" he insisted. "Brett," I had replied, "animals on a farm aren't what I'd call 'wild'.") Greg just didn't want to go even though he got the offer. I practically begged him to but he just refused.

8 people were going to England, as Hogwarts proposed, and we were scheduled to leave the following day.

"You really sure you don't want to go, Greg?" I popped by his room the night before I left.

"Yeah," Greg looked at me oddly before shutting the door in my face.

x

"We have a crisis," Fiona marched up to me the next morning at the airport. I put down my luggage and removed my beanie.

"What?"

"Joanna backed out, we need a replacement."

"Why can't we just leave without her? It's not the end of the world."

"We need eight people, Clyde. You're the Prophetic major, don't you know what will happen if we don't have eight on board?"

I sighed and looked pointedly at Westin Morinaga, the other Prophetic major in the team. He was famous for his dark oracles - we despaired of him. He couldn't help it though. (He had a better connection with the disgruntled elderly. Cranky people, they were.)

He waved spiritedly and shrugged. "Hereditary skill, Clyde. Sorry!"

x

"Hello, Greg?"

The groggy voice answered back, "What's the big idea?"

"I know it's 5 am in the morning, but I really need you to come to London with me."

"Clyde, I said no."

"I don't know what your reason is, but Joanna backed out, if we don't have eight on board the pilot will lose control of the plane and we'll be thrown into the Bermuda Triangle and get lost forever and ever. Your arrival in the airport in the next half an hour or so, or lack of it, shall determine the life or death of the other 80 people on the plane."

"How do you know that?" Greg asked sleepily.

"Grandma told Westin."

"Oh. Wait... Grandma's dead."

"Exactly."

x

The direct flight took 10 hours and 15 minutes and by the time we reached London's Heathrow Airport, our butts were aching like crazy.

"Thanks sis," Greg grumbled, rubbing his sore butt.

"No problem," I grinned back weakly.

"What's happening now?" Lorraine Phelps asked Fiona, the leader of the pack.

"Well it says here in the itinerary that we're to check in at the Sheraton Heathrow Hotel and tomorrow morning at 9 someone from Hogwarts will be here to fetch us. We just have to wait for him or her at the reception lobby."

"What time is it now in Heineland?" Westin asked.

I looked at my unadjusted watch. "Uh, 5 pm."

"I'm missing Days of Our Lives on cable..." groaned Mitchell Yeung, the girl from the School of Sports.

I glanced at the huge clock displaying London time.

"Well, guys, it's 1 am!" I clapped cheerfully. "Let's go give our butts some rest, shall we?"

x

"Well, it's 9 am!" Greg complained cheerfully. "Let's all sit here stupidly waiting, shall we?"

I glared at Greg; he glared back. "You got me into this," he mouthed obnoxiously.

"There is such thing as telepathy, you know," I rolled my eyes at my twin, transmitting the thought over to him.

"It's 8:55, Greg, stop being a dweeb," Fiona pointed to the big digital clock above the reception desk of the lobby.

"I'm having jetlag..." Mitchell moaned. For a sportswoman, she sure liked to complain much.

It was then we noticed an elderly woman dressed in a long-sleeved, white shirt and a business-like A-line brown skirt. She strutted up to us importantly and whispered to Ko Min in a heavy British accent (well, we were in England), "Are you the students from Heineland University of Magic?"

Ko Min replied, "Yup, we're from Heineland University."

"Of Magic?" the woman continued to speak in undertones.

"Yeah," we chorused.

Theodore Ellaporenco then went over to the lady and whispered, "Why are you whispering?"

She straightened her blouse and muttered, "So the Muggles won't hear us."

"Muggles?" we asked in unison.

"The non-magicfolk," the lady murmured, as we 'oh-ed'. "I am Professor McGonagall, and I am here to take all of you to Hogwarts. Follow me now, the Portkey's not too far away."

"What's a Portkey?" Theodore asked me.

"I don't know."

Well, we soon found out, and it sure as hell wasn't as comfortable as a plane.

x

"And this is...?" Lorraine queried, straightening her blond hair, a mirror in her hand.

"A train station?" I asked Professor McGonagall.

"King's Cross Station," Greg read out loud, staring at the sign.

We moved rapidly through the station, Professor McGonagall in lead. We heard lots of chatter - it was the first day of school for the kids all around the country, after all.

"Now look at that," marveled Theodore, pointed. We Heinelanders followed his line of vision - a girl with flaming red hair was charging towards platform 10 as if her life depended on it, could have broken one of our school records, and then she vanished.

Just like that.

"Where did she go?" Ko Min wondered.

Professor McGonagall looked at us queerly. "Don't you have such things in Heineland?"

We shook our heads slowly.

"Just as well, you got your live demonstration by Ginny Weasley. Now do what she did and don't dilly-dally, come on now!"

x

"Awesome!" I cried, after bursting through the invisible opening into platform nine and three-quarters. I was the last one, and the rest were admiring the whole place, enthralled by the chattering students, by the Hogwarts Express, the tracks even.

We never had anything like that in Heineland. There was no action, no real solid magic in the air unlike this place. This was... A true-blue magical world.

I looked at my partners - Ko Min, Fiona, Lorraine, Mitchell, Westin, Theo, Greg and me. What would be in store for us here?

"All right, all of you may board the train and if you have any questions, I believe the students would be glad to help. I shall see you again at Hogwarts."

With a snap, Professor McGonagall disappeared. We grinned at each other.

"Let's PARRRR-TAY!" cheered Fiona, as we rushed up to the train.

This was going to be one big adventure... I could feel it.

x

"What? No more seats?" I cried as Fiona beat me to the last one in the cabin. Greg grunted his displeasure and moved on to the next one.

"Come on, you guys!" I pushed my hand through my hair in exasperation.

"No can do, Clyde," Lorraine smiled, applying some lipgloss onto her kissing tool.

Following the example of my twin, I snorted and left the cabin.

x

"Over here, Clyde," I heard Greg call as I popped my head into one of the booth-like things.

"Yeah, thanks," I moved in, plopping my duffel bug onto the seat before removing my beanie.

There was a moment of silence before I spoke.

"Greg... Why didn't you want to come before I forced you to?"

Greg flushed the slightest shade of pink.

"I caught that," I smirked.

"What?" Greg indignantly responded.

"Why did you blush?"

"Not telling."

"You know, I am a Prophetic major and I happen to be the top of my class in Modern Necromancy... You want me to ask some dead person to tell me why? I'm sure there are lots of them under these very tracks!"

That seemed to do the trick.

"Oh okay! I can't take Bambam with me if I leave Heineland..."

I sputtered, "Your stuffed monkey?"

He shifted uneasily, "He's a family friend, you're making him sound insignificant and he doesn't really like it."

I stared at him. "You're nuts."

"Am not!"

"Are too."

Then the door was shoved open and someone with who probably consumed a whole vat of L'oreal's latest range of whitening products entered.

We stared at each other before he spoke, "Who are you?"

"I'm... Clyde," I replied stupidly.

"You aren't local," he replied flatly.

"Yeah we're from Heineland," Greg piped up.

The boy made a face. "The place where they allow Muggles and purebloods to mingle freely?"

Knowing that my brother was as clueless as me, I muttered from the corner of my mouth, "I may have found someone nuttier than you."

"There is such thing as telepathy you know," he hissed back.

"Urgh!" the pale creature continued. "You may be mudbloods for all I know. I do not want to be associated with the likes of you."

And then he strutted away.

"My, what a perfect little first encounter with the indigenous people," Greg batted his eyelashes and clasped his hands as he proved to me he didn't have Mum's flair for the English accent. But he did get the sarcasm gene.

"I'm sure we'll meet nicer people," I said, sinking into the leather seat. "Otherwise I can turn you into a toad."

x

It was a few moments later before the nicer people came in. This funny guy with a... toad... came in, after an old woman kissed him on the cheek rather roughly and warned him not to lose his pajamas again otherwise she would send him his worst nightmare.

"Is this your idea of nicer people?" my twin looked at me pointedly as I received his brainwave.

I replied him in the same way - "That was his grandmother, for crying out loud."

"Grandma was like that?" he raised his eyebrows.

"You're only 3 minutes younger than me, don't tell me you can't remember."

"Oh yeah, if she could talk to Westin then she definitely must have been a tad bit unpleasant."

I smiled, pushing all forms of telepathy out of my head. "Hi, I'm Clyde Thwaite. What's your name?"

The boy looked rather surprised. "Neville. Neville Longbottom."

He then broke out into a smile. "You don't sound from around here."

"Yeah, we're exchange students from Heineland."

Neville's eyes widened, "Oh, I've been there before! My gran took me there when I was 12 during the summer holidays - I loved the Cola Noodles!"

Greg seemed to warm up to the idea of talking about home and replied, "Yeah, they're great. Did you try the fried chestnuts?"

"Sure, those with chocolate in the middle are exceptionally palatable," Neville grinned. I was glad to see Greg beginning to embark on a long conversation about food with this nice boy with the toad, it made me feel less guilty about dragging him along without Bambam the Family Friend.

Men and their ego. What's not to hate?

"Neville?" a rather cute face with dark hair came into sight.

"Hi Harry! There's a seat; look, we've got exchange students this year!"

"We're only staying for two weeks," I spoke up, smiling at the boy called Harry.

Harry smiled back and entered the carriage. "Move over a bit, will you Neville? I've got this awful lot of books - Hermione forced me to take them because Ron's threatening to kill Crookshanks and she wants to protect that blasted cat."

"I thought Ron and the cat made up?" Neville bemusedly raised his head to Harry.

"You could put the books here, we've got plenty of space," I offered, swatting Greg's legs out of the way.

"Thanks," Harry replied, and passed the books over to me.

"Magical Creatures in Your Life - cool!" I exclaimed, as Harry handed me the last book. Greg yawned and I swatted him with the hardcover.

"Hey!" he protested, "What was that for?"

"For being rude," I snorted, as I flipped open the book.

"It sounds like some self-help book," Greg pointed out.

"Brett would adore this!"

Neville then piped, "Harry, you haven't been introduced properly yet. This is Greg and this is Clyde Thwaite."

"Greg Thwaite," my brother supplied.

"You do have manners!" I grinned at him, making him scowl briefly.

"You both have the same surnames?" Harry implored.

"We're twins," I nodded politely.

"God made a mistake," Greg whispered loudly.

Harry chuckled, "It's a pleasure meeting you. I'm Harry..." He seemed hesitant for awhile. "Harry Potter," he finally finished.

I stuck out a hand. Harry looked at me curiously, as if expecting more.

Greg laughed, "He thinks you bite - well you do anyway."

"Shut up."

Harry shook his head, still grinning, and grabbed my hand.

"Nice meeting you."

x

"You mean you only study magic for seven years?" I raised my eyebrows. It was the most incredulous thing I'd heard in a long time.

Neville and Harry nodded. "Is that a very short time in Heineland?" Harry asked.

"Well, time-wise there no difference, but if you want to talk about quantity... Children in the magical community spend nine years studying. We go through normal kindergarten and then it's five years of magic elementary school where we learn all the basics, and when we're 12 we move on into junior high. Two years in junior high, three years in high school, and we're off to university for another four."

"Wow, you must learn a lot," Neville looked at the two of us enviously, voice full of admiration.

"Pretty much," I laughed.

"She learns her 'pretty much' from dead people," Greg said in a low voice as I slugged him in the arm.

Harry and Neville looked at me pointedly.

"I major in Prophecy in university," I admitted. "One of my modules this semester is Modern Necromancy, Greg's been giving me a hard time about it."

"Isn't necromancy... the calling of the dead?" Neville shuddered.

"Yeah, for prophetic purposes, like seeing the future or reading a person's mind. But you need to observe lots of rules unless you're born with the gift of seeing."

"She didn't want to take my advice and do normal stuff like Runes Studies or Mathemology, oh no, just ran off to do some Corpse Communication Course and bam, I have a pagan sister," Greg shook his head sadly.

"Oh, quit it, Greg," I waved my hand dismissively. "Harry, what's that stick for?" I noticed a wooden thing protruding from Harry's pocket.

"This is a wand..." Harry looked at me peculiarly. "You don't say... Have you seen a wand before?"

"Of course I've seen a wand before, it's a basic!" I replied, somewhat offended. I wasn't that much of a country bumpkin.

"You mean yours doesn't look like that?"

Greg and I stared at each other.

"Our wands are in our bodies," Greg finally explained.

Neville's mouth opened in amazement.

"When we get old enough to go to elementary school, we go to a wand shop and there we get tested for our wands. They come in little capsules. We swallow the capsules and then the wand will implant itself into our wand hands. So basically, we do magic with-"

"Your hands," Harry ended, looking positively impressed. "Could you... Could you show me?"

I looked at Greg. He shrugged.

"What do you want her to do, summon the dead?" Greg asked apprehensively.

"No, no, I mean normal things. Like... Summoning Charms, Levitating Spells, the like."

"Oh, you mean those!" Greg looked nonchalant, which, and I'm speaking as his twin sister, meant he was very relieved.

"I'll go first," I winked. Looking around, I spotted Neville's toad.

"Neville... What's his name?" I pointed to the little amphibian.

"Trevor," Neville replied warily. "What are you going to do with him?"

"Watch and learn, this is one of her specialties," Greg smirked, folding his arms behind his head and leaning back.

I concentrated hard on Trevor and murmured, "Work for me buddy, work for me."

Putting my left hand over Trevor I shut my eyes and thought of how I wanted the little toad to look like. A warm tingle shot through my arm and into my fingers. A shower of silver dust and light emanated from my palm onto Trevor, and he was keeping as still as can be.

In a matter of seconds, the deed was done.

"Merlin!" yelled Neville, rapidly growing red, as a full-grown woman appeared to be sitting on Neville's palm.

"Ribbit," 'Trevor' apologized.

Harry watched, awestruck. "That's Catherine Zeta Jones!" he gaped, the tiniest tinge of envy surfacing in his comment.

"Turn him back!" Neville whispered, beet-red.

"You sure?" I cheekily replied, and Neville nodded his reiteration.

Greg laughed and said, "Yeah, can I be given a chance to show off now?"

Before he waited for a reply, he took a few grasps of air and slowly kneaded them into a huge ball of water. Everyone knows that one molecule of hydrogen and two of carbon is water, and everyone in Heineland knows that water exists in four states - solid, liquid, gas and clay.

Slowly and gently he rubbed the dough between his hand and his wand hand started to take action. A pale mist formed around his hands, transforming the water into a beautiful little sculpture of the fountain in front of the Japanese Embassy in Central back home. When it was completed Greg ran his wand hand over the sculpture and it turned into ice, but it was a fully functioning fountain, flowing water and all.

"It won't melt," Greg grinned, mopping his brow from the effort. "You guys can have it."

Neville shoved it to Harry, in slight disarray from his encounter with Trevor the Beautiful. "I've got souvenirs from Heineland at home, you can have it Harry," he smiled good-naturedly, nervousness still seen on his features as he avoided looking at Trevor with what I would call, disappointment. Ha.

"Thanks Neville..." Harry looked up at Greg. "That was wicked. Really really wicked."

I serenely added, "And that was high-level too. He only learnt it last week."

Boom.

"What was that?" I shrieked. "Are we crashing?"

"Westin didn't mention anything - oh wait, maybe Grandma forgot to tell him," my brother closed his eyes, lazily leaning into his chair.

Harry and Neville looked at each other.

"First-years," they sighed.

X

"I came here for an exchange programme, not to be turned into some kind of... bath-crazed student without any dress sense!" Lorraine's voice was in a steady crescendo as she snapped irritably at Fiona, as she handed out robes.

"Live with it Lorri," Westin grinned, "You're just not in Heineland anymore."