fandomhigh | BWI Airport Portalocity Lounge, Saturday morning

Malia had never been out of California before. Or Beacon County, for that matter. She'd barely been out of Beacon Hills proper, and that was mostly as a coyote hunting for food.

So this was new and exciting! Or, you know, new at least. She was going to school. One that didn't, as far as she could tell, require her to learn math. So right there it had one up over BHHS. It also didn't have Scott or Stiles, which was not a point in its favor, but in the end, she'd decided that not having to struggle through eleventh grade math beat out getting to have the few people she knew around, especially when Scott agreed he could try to teach her control over the internet.

So here she was. Her ears still felt stuffed full of cotton from the plane, and the whole airport smelled like cleaning fluid and anxiety, and she was managing to claw tiny holes in the upholstery with claws that didn't want to stay hidden away like they were supposed to, but hey. At least she was having an adventure?

[IT'S NEWBIE SHUTTLE TIME! Up early-ish because work has been dumb this week and I might be slow.]

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"I know what owls are," Malia said, a little defensive. "They're stringy and the feathers get caught in your teeth."

She probably wasn't supposed to say that.

She tilted her head a little, giving Harry an appraising look. "They're hard to catch, too. How'd you get it?"

"I, uh, bought her," Harry said, frowning and tilting his head. "Did you say 'caught in your teeth'...?"

". . . No?"

She was a bad liar.

"So if it's not your lunch, why do you have it?" She didn't remember hearing about any humans in Beacon Hills keeping owls as pets.

Don't mind Harry trying to subtly move Hedwig's cage closer to him all of a sudden.

"She's my pet. People don't eat owls."

At least he hoped they didn't.

"People don't keep them as pets either," Malia pointed out. "Not usually."

"They do where I come from," Harry told her. "They're pretty common, actually."

Not that he could explain that they carried mail. It could just be a British thing if anyone asked.

Malia nodded. "They're good hunters," she said, as if that meant it made sense to keep them as pets. (As far as she was concerned, it did. Made way more sense than people who kept rodents and didn't eat them, like that one girl from group back at Eichen House.) "I'm Malia."

"Harry. Do you, uh, know anything about this place?"

He didn't. Not even a little.

"Fandom?" Malia asked, then shrugged. "They don't teach math."

"Oh. Why wouldn't they teach math? Not that I'm complaining."

He hadn't missed math, but he'd been counting on having to fail it this year. Because you know what Hogwarts didn't teach?

"I don't know, because math is hard and stupid?"

She'd never needed math as a coyote, after all!

"That's all the explanation I need," Harry decided immediately.

Malia nodded, deciding this guy was reasonably clever.

"You're British," she observed. Much in the same way she'd pointed out his bird. She wasn't the best at small talk.

"Yeah," he said, nodding. "You're not."

Both a brilliant observation and him wondering what she'd say to that.

"I'm from California," Malia said.

And then had absolutely no idea what she was supposed to say next. She found herself making fists in the seat cushions again. And probably clawing more holes in it while she was at it.

"What's that like?" Harry wondered. "I've never been to America."

"Uh. There are trees?" Malia said. "And people really like lacrosse. I've never been anywhere else."

"Trees and lacrosse." Harry didn't really know what lacrosse was. "Sounds brilliant."

He was trying to be supportive.

“I guess. What’s it like where you’re from?”

"Depends where you're talking about," he shrugged. "England's... normal? Nothing really special there. My last school was in Scotland. That was at least pretty."

And very not normal, but he didn't know that was okay to say yet.

“Normal.” Malia nodded. “I don’t know what that is.”

For London, or anywhere else, really.

"It's pretty boring," he supplied.

Malia nodded slowly. "So . . . like . . . 'Mindy won't stop talking about her tortured soul in group' boring or like 'a day with a good kill you didn't have to fight a cougar for' boring?"

Her experiences were not universal, no.

Oh boy.

"Like 'I had to do chores all day and now I'm sitting around doing nothing' boring."

Malia frowned, looking off to the side. “Huh. I . . . vaguely remember what that’s like.”

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