Potter Watch [a HOO/HP fanfic](finished) [Demigods at Hogwarts]

Chapter 1: Mission Diplomacy

Hermione, Ron, and Harry silently stepped out into the hot, humid night.

"Stay warm, dears!" Mrs. Weasley called after them.

It really seemed an unnecessary precaution.

Harry was still rather confused as to how they had ended up agreeing to taking a trip to America. Yet here they were, shivering with apprehension, Ron's face sweaty with fear of splinching.

It was the beginning of the summer, and the three friends were planning on entering their 8th year of Hogwarts, a special option being offered to seventh years who had not been able to attend Hogwarts during the Wizarding War. This year was already to be different, but now an additional complexity was added.

There would be new students attending Hogwarts. They weren't even wizards, and Harry had never met them. Until now.

In their new campaign to promote world peace, the Ministry had contacted several groups of magical peoples.

One group had never been heard of.

Harry turned to Hermione and Ron, aware of Ginny's gaze from her fourth-floor bedroom. He waved at her.

"Ready to leave?" he asked in a low voice.

Hermione nodded, her face expressionless. She clutched her beaded purse in one hand, and it seemed to be making hollow ominous noises. She had not been able to resist packing a mobile library.

Ron's face turned a still more sickly shade of green.

"Three.. Two... One."

They all revolved on the spot.

The world dissolved into oblivion, and Harry once again felt the sensation of being shoved through a rubber tube.

Then the pain behind his eyes ceased, and they found themselves standing on a grassy hill, the world suddenly illuminated.

"Brilliant," Ron groaned. "Jet lag without the fun of peanuts and chewing gum."

"Ron," Hermione said, sighing, "you've never been on a muggle airplane."

"I've never been out of blo-"

"Ron!"

Harry turned to survey the landscape before him. The skies were painted with crimson and gold, illuminating- were those strawberry fields? An odd, lone pine tree stood at the crest of the hill.

Hermione and Ron had grown suddenly quiet, which was odd for them, and Harry turned to see an angry-looking girl marching towards them, wearing rather frightening armor and holding a bronze spear that seemed to crackle with something very like electricity.

"Who the heck are you?" she demanded in that odd American accent. "What do you want?"

Before Harry could answer, she continued. "You've got the wrong place. Move on."

"You're friendly," Ron said.

The girl squinted at him. "Are you British?"

Hermione cut in. "We're from the International Confederation of Magical Cooperation. We've come as ambassadors."

The girl relaxed slightly, though she seemed to resent the fact that she could not use her spear on them. She surveyed the trio with more interest than before, though not with much awe. "You're those British people who saved England?"

"Well, in the long run it could have been the world-" Ron started, but Hermione cut him off once more.

"Yes," she said. "That's us."