Chapter Text
Danny dropped from the sky like a rock. It was only from his many years of being flung out of the air that he managed to land on his feet.
Danny did a 180, looking for his travelling companion and spotted him, once again, walking down an invisible staircase towards him.
“How’d you do that?” Danny questioned when the man touched down next to him, trying to mimic someone going downstairs with hand gestures.
“I could ask you the same thing.” The teacher responded. “It often takes years of practice to master the slow descent. I've never seen someone land on their feet on their first try. Are you sure you've never used Portkey?”
“I’m pretty positive.” Danny rubbed the back of his neck, one of his anxious tics. He didn't trust the disbelieving look on the professor's face, and he didn't like how close they were getting to the topic of his halfa adventures.
In a desperate attempt to change the topic, he turned and gestured to their surroundings. “Where are we?”
They were standing in the middle of an open field surrounded by trees. When Danny pictured fields the size of this one, not that he often envisioned large fields, he imagined them with long overgrown grass and wildflowers. This field, however, was incredibly well-maintained. If it weren't for a lack of goal posts and turf paint, his first assumption would have been that they were standing in the middle of a football field.
He could see a walking trail surrounding the perimeter of the park, and even though it was a beautiful evening, he didn't see any other people around.
“We're in London, at the Hampstead Heath Extension. Originally, we were going to appear at the ministry and then take the Night Bus to the house where you'll be staying. To make our lives more convenient, the school's Headmaster cashed in a favour, and the ministry set a charm to clear the park of all Muggles. The charm will only last for another 20 minutes, so we need to go.
With that, he dumped Danny’s stuff on the ground and swiftly walked away. Danny trailed after him, hastily grabbing his things.
They walked for no more than ten minutes, passing through a tree line and another field before they reached the neighbourhood.
The houses all shared similar features. They were made of the same red coloured brick with a matching red pony wall surrounding their front yard. Each house had lots of greenery, way more than he had ever seen in someone's yard in Amity. Some had giant trees and flower bushes in their front yard. Most had hedges and ivy creeping up the sides of their houses.
The professor stopped at the end of a house’s cobblestone pathway, the number 8 hanging above its light blue-grey door. The house was two stories tall and had box bay pane windows on both floors. There was also a window above the door awning and a dormer window that he guessed was connected to an attic. They were all surrounded by white trim. He couldn't see into any of the second-story windows, but the box bay window on the main floor had faded maroon curtains with a flower pattern and showed him glimpses of a light-toned living room.
All in all, the house looked normal. He would have never guessed that a magical family lived there. It took him an embarrassing amount of time to realise that was probably the whole point.
Professor Snape continued to stand at the end of the path, looking at Danny expectantly. Danny took that as his cue to walk up to the front door. He was relieved when the professor followed after him. Danny had been worried that the man would dump him with the family without introducing him or something else along those lines. Not that Danny was scared or anything. He could introduce himself to a couple of strangers, no problem, after all, he was 14.
The teacher cleared his throat, and Danny realised he’d been standing in front of the door for a few minutes. “I should probably knock, right?” Professor Snape didn't say anything in response, and Danny didn't bother turning to see what was sure to be an exasperated expression on the man's face.
He raised his hand, took a deep breath, and knocked.
Almost immediately, Danny heard the sound of someone running down a staircase. “They're here!” shouted a female voice, and suddenly the door swung open.
She might have been a little bit shorter than he if it weren’t for her curly brown hair. She had warm brown eyes and a kind smile that showed off the whitest teeth he'd ever seen.
Her outfit wasn't anything too fancy, dark blue jeans, a lilac long-sleeved shirt and fun light blue socks with cats and books all over them.
Danny felt his heart pang a little bit, Jazz loved socks like that. He didn’t have time to think about how much he missed her already, because before he could ruminate, the girl began to speak.
You must be Daniel!” She grabbed his hand and shook it. “I'm Hermione! It's so wonderful to meet you. I hope your trip went well. Professor McGonagall told me that you'd be travelling via Portkey. I've never used a portkey before, You'll have to tell me all about it, along with what it's like to live in America. When Professor McGonagall asked if I'd be willing to host an American exchange student, I jumped at the opportunity. I checked my copy of Hogwarts: A History, along with a few other texts, but I couldn't find any instance of there ever being an exchange student, although if you've never been to any other Wizarding school, I'm not sure if this counts, either way, I think it's very interesting how-”
“Miss Granger.” Professor Snape interrupted, and Hermione startled, letting go of Danny's hand.
“Professor Snape,” She took a step back in shock, “What are you doing here?! I-I mean, I thought Professor McGonagall was going to be bringing Daniel.”
“She had other matters to attend to and asked me to come in her stead.” He pulled out his pocket watch once more, then turned to address Danny. “This is where I leave you, Mr. Fenton. You will be in,” he paused and turned his head to scrutinise Hermione, then back to face Danny, “decent hands with Miss Granger.”
Danny wanted to protest and insist that he couldn't leave yet. Danny still had quite a few questions for the man, and he didn’t want to be abandoned with a stranger. As sweet as she seemed, he did not know this girl. Professor Snape's reassurance that he would be in good hands did not help him much with settling his nerves. The thought of the only semi-familiar face leaving him now brought back his anxieties in full force. Heck, he still didn't even know when or where to meet the teacher for his tutoring sessions.
Before Danny could express any of these concerns, the man waved his cloak and, with a loud CRACK, was gone.
Danny laughed awkwardly. “He's dramatic, isn't he?”
“Yeah..” the girl trailed off “Anyways! Come in, come in!”
She ushered Danny through the door. The entryway was more like an open hallway. Directly in front of him was a white painted staircase. With a door underneath. To his left was the aforementioned living room, which had an open doorway to a dining room. Down the hall were two more closed doors.
He closed the front door behind him as Hermione gestured towards a shoe rack.
“You can put your shoes right there and I’ll take you up to your room so that you can drop your things and then, since it's right around lunchtime in Illinois, Mum prepared a late dinner, of course, if you’ve already eaten, you don’t have to join us.”
She rocked back onto her heels and looked at Danny, seemingly trying to gauge his reaction to the plan.
“Sounds good,” He agreed, kicking off his sneakers. “I didn’t actually get a chance to have lunch, so food sounds awesome right about now .”
She smiled, “Perfect! You’re in the spare room,” She turned and walked upstairs. Danny hefted his duffel bag and followed her up.
At the top of the stairs was a small hallway with five doors. The two doors on the left wall that were both next to each other in the middle of the wall, the two on the right were both in the corner closest to him and at the end of the hall stood a single door.
“This is my room,” hermione pointed at the closest door on the left, “this is the guest room which is yours for now so you can do whatever you want with it,” she opened the other door on the left, “that’s the bathroom” she said pointing at the door directly to his right “you and I will be sharing, luckily my parents have an ensuite so it shouldn’t be too crowded. This is their room,” she said pointing at the door next to the bathroom, “if you need anything from anyone be sure to knock, we don’t like to have our space invaded.”
Danny found that last statement a tad ironic, considering how close Hermione was standing to him. “What’s that door?” he pointed to the end of the hall.
“That’s the study!” She said excitedly, “My parents were worried about guests questioning all my strange textbooks and school supplies, so they converted the attic into a space where I could read whatever without potentially breaking the statute of secrecy.”
“That’s really cool of them!” Danny was liking these people already.
“It is, isn’t it!” She beamed. “I’ll show you after dinner, how’s that sound?”
“Sounds perfect.” He said, aimlessly tossing his bag into the room that had been designated as his, “Let’s go eat.” On cue, his stomach growled. He flushed with embarrassment but pushed past it and gestured for her to lead the way.
Danny hadn’t noticed it when he walked into the house earlier, too overwhelmed by… everything, but now he could smell garlic and other heavenly aromas wafting out from the kitchen.
Danny started to feel pretty hungry, but Hermione didn't lead him into the dining room and instead stopped in the middle of the living room.
The room was well furnished, a dark brown piano was pressed up against the wall, it was in between the doorway that led to the stairwell and the box-bay window and matched the wood of the coffee table. In the window, there was a long, thin table covered in various house plants, none of which he knew the names of, but he was sure Sam would be able to label all of them correctly. There was a beige 3-seater couch with two matching low-back armchairs that all surrounded the fireplace.
The glimpse Danny had caught of the living room earlier had made it seem cold, what with its light and muted colours. Now that he was standing in the room, he could see how wrong he was. While the colours on the couch cushions, curtain, and rug weren't very vibrant, they were complementary to one another, and next to the light couch and wall colour, they stood out even more.
There were a few other things that contributed to the warmth of the room. One was the knick-knacks. The mantle, the piano top, the coffee table, every one of them had at least two little trinkets. Alongside the little pieces of clutter were tons of photos. There were a few on the mantle and piano, but the wall was the real motherlode. Every single picture depicted what he could only assume was Hermione and her parents on holidays, birthdays and other moments that were likely significant, but Danny couldn't guess given the limited context provided by the photo.
A woman was sitting in one of the armchairs, reading a book. Danny hadn't noticed her when he first entered the house, but Danny had been pretty distracted, so the woman may have been there the whole time.
The sleeves of her cream knitted turtleneck were pushed up past her elbows, and her long straight hair was weirdly tucked into the neck of the shirt, as though she forgot to pull it out after bringing the sweater over her head. Her hair was the same colour as Hermione's, and while Danny doubted that the similarities ended there, he couldn't see her face due to the way she was sitting. She wore light wash jeans, a style he once heard Star call ‘mom jeans’, and her socks were a light yellow with a pattern of… were those wind-up dentures? Weird.
“Mum?” The woman was deeply engrossed in what she was reading and jumped when Hermione began speaking to him “This is Danny,” she looked at her daughter, confused, and Hermione clarified in an exasperated tone, “the exchange student.”
Danny could practically see the light bulb turn on above her head as this expression morphed from confused to realisation.
“What time is it?!” she asked her daughter, but she didn't give her a chance to answer before asking another question, “Why didn't you let me know he was here?”
Hermione rolled her eyes in an affectionately exasperated gesture. “I did tell you he was here, it's not my fault that you weren't paying attention, and it's almost quarter to seven, so we better set the table before Dad finishes making supper.”
“Oh! Yes, we should.” She sprang out of her seat and smiled a smile that was identical to Hermione's. “Danny, it's a pleasure to meet you. I'm Helen, Hermione's Mum.” She nodded her head in greeting to Danny, who was thankful she didn't try to come in for a hug. “I'm afraid any further introductions are going to have to wait. I'm starved, and we need to set the table before Rich finishes cooking. It's the only thing he asks of us in exchange for his wonderful cooking.” She placed a hand on each of the kids' shoulders and dragged them into the kitchen.
If Danny had thought dinner smelled good from the living room, it smelled amazing now that he was in the kitchen. The room was fairly average as far as kitchens went; it had the usual appliances: a sink, a dishwasher, a stove top oven, and a fridge. Both the above and below cabinets were made of a light wood, maple, maybe, and the countertops were a nice light grey stone that had speckles of white embedded into it.
There was an island in the centre of the room. It had a plethora of food spread across it, waiting to be served. Everything looked delicious. Roasted potatoes and carrots, a salad with what smelled like a vinaigrette dressing and warm bread rolls. What got Danny's attention was the roast that a man was pulling out of the oven.
He wore loose-fitting khakis and fuzzy charcoal slippers. His sage collared t-shirt was covered by a white apron with the words, “I'm the only one who belongs in this kitchen” written in red cursive. He had short ginger and grey hair that was curly like Hermione's, and his nose was the same as hers.
The man's eyes slid up when he spotted his wife and daughter, and he broke into an excited grin when his gaze fell on Danny. “You must be Daniel!”
He placed the roast on the island on a hot plate and shucked his oven mitts off as he walked towards Danny. Hermione's dad didn't waste a second before pulling Danny into a rib-crushing hug, one that reminded him of his own father.
“Rich!” Helen smacked her husband gently on the shoulder whilst collecting utensils out of a drawer for dinner. “Let the poor boy down, you're going to crush him or scare him off.”
The man loosened his hold on Danny and smiled at his wife, “Daniel doesn't mind, right chap!”
He wasn't quite sure what to say in response to that, so he just smiled politely. “I prefer Danny if you don't mind.”
“Danny, it is,” the man agreed, then grabbed a stack of plates from an upper cupboard. “Danny, would you mind bringing these plates out to Helen, while Hermione and I carry the food to the table?”
“No problem, Mr…” Danny trailed off, realising too late that he still didn't know the man's name. What was it that Professor Snape had called Hermione? Mrs Gardner? Mrs Grayzer? He couldn’t remember!
“You can call me Richard,” The man smiled, easing Danny's internal panic enough for him to finally grab hold of the plates.
Out in the dining room, Helen had placed the appropriate number of hot plates in the centre of the table as well as four place mats with utensils and cups.
Danny briefly wondered why there wasn't a place setting at the head of the table. Every time he went to someone's house for dinner and their parents joined them, or even in his own house on the rare occasions they ate together as a family, the head of the table was the designated dad spot. He decided not to comment on it and simply put the plates in their appropriate spots.
His next dilemma came in the form of wondering where he would sit. Luckily, Helen seemed to notice his hesitation to sit down, “We don't have any assigned seats, so you can just sit wherever you want, Danny.”
He thanked her and sat down in the chair furthest from the kitchen that had his back to the living room. She sat down opposite him, and when Hermione and her father, who was no longer wearing the apron, came in carrying the food, Richard sat next to his wife, and Hermione took the seat next to Danny.
Everyone at the table began to serve themselves, so Danny followed their lead, grabbing a little bit of everything. Once they had got what they wanted, they dug right in, so Danny did the same, grabbing a bite of carrots and potatoes on his fork.
“Oh my god, this is amazing” It was so good that Danny didn't even feel embarrassed when he began to shovel the roasted vegetables into his mouth like it was the last thing he'd ever eat.
In less than 3 minutes, Danny had scarfed down all the rest of the vegetables and meat on his plate and was about to try the salad when he noticed that everyone had stopped eating to stare at him.
He put his fork down and wrung his hands in his lap. “Sorry,” he said, unable to meet anyone's eye, “it's just been a long time since I've had such a good home-cooked meal.”
“It's okay”, Hermione assured him, “I just don't think I've ever seen someone be so enthusiastic about Dad's cooking.”
“Hey! I'm a good cook!” her Dad protested. “Yes, you are,” his wife agreed, “but Hermione’s right, I've never seen someone eat so quickly.”
Danny didn't want to explain that his kitchen was an ecto-infectant disaster, so he told one of the lies that he and his sister often told adults who are worried about their food situation: “We're in the middle of renovating our kitchen back home, and so we've been eating out a lot. It's nice to have something that was cooked with love.”
“Well, I appreciate the praise,” said Richard. “Just make sure you leave him for dessert, it's a fruit salad!”
Dinner went well. The conversation mostly centred around his family and what America was like. Danny was a little confused as to why the three of them didn't mention anything magical at the table. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realise that the reason neither of Hermione's parents talked about magic was that they didn't have any.
It came up during dessert that since his parents worked for themselves and didn't have insurance, Danny hadn't been to a dentist in a few years. Both of the adults at the table were horrified and insisted that Danny would be coming in for a checkup ASAP, which is how he learned that they were both normal dentists.
It was nice to know that Hermione was in the same boat as him, being magical with normal parents, if you could consider the Fentons normal.
He'd be lying if he claimed he wasn't a little jealous of the fact that Helen and Richard were so much more accepting of their daughter than he could ever imagine the Fentons being of him, but the voice in his head, that sounded like Jazz, reminded him that they'd opened their home to him, and that harbouring feelings jealousy wouldn't do him any good, so he quickly pushed that thought aside.
He offered to help wash dishes, but was turned down by Helen, who insisted that he should get some sleep to try to avoid jet lag.
Danny wasn't going to argue with her. He hadn't had a great sleep the night before and was quite tired.
Hermione asked if he wanted to see her study before he headed off to bed. He was worried it would hurt her feelings when he said he was tired, but Hermione told him not to worry about it and that she could show him in the morning.
He thanked everyone once again for having him and wished them a good night before heading up to his room.
It was a plain room. The walls were off white and had HomeSense art hung on them. The double bed had a few quilts and decorative pillows. The bedside table to the left of the bed was next to a window and had nothing on it. The bedside table on the right side, the side the door was on, had a reading lamp and a box of tissues. At the end of the bed was a large wooden bench that opened for storage. Danny wasn't sure if they had personal belongings inside of it, so he picked up his duffle bag and placed it on top.
He sent a few messages to his friends and family telling them he made it safely, that he was going to bed and that he loved them. While he waited for the replies, he changed into pajamas.
He was too lazy to bother with brushing his teeth, something he was sure would earn him a lecture in this household, but he was willing to risk it.
He crawled under the covers and curled up with his phone in his hand, readily waiting to hear back from Sam, Tucker, or Jazz.
It had barely been 10 minutes before the day's excitement caught up to him, and he drifted off into dreamless sleep.