Guess who's back, back from out outer space?
Me! You should have changed those stupid locks, you have thrown away that stupid key!
Good, song.
Anyway, Thor is also back!
I rewrote a Love of Stars because I wasn't happy with the initial quality. I feel that it was too rushed and not a true reflection of tale that Hermione and Thor deserve.
Making it much more readable we have to thank - amazing beta! Her feedback is invaluable and she actually has her own wonderful Thor/OC story you should go and read. Go on -gently nudges towards her fic-
Also giant thanks to by Alpha reader: Barney Badger or Bahowle for short.
A Love of Stars
Ursa Major
It was abysmally cold. Hermione had noticed fingers of frost creeping up the glass panes of Great Hall windows when she sat down for dinner, but now the chill was palpable and nipping at her like an eager child. She liked to imagine it was the Frost Giants of Jotunheim themselves that were walking the grounds of Hogwarts and spreading their wintery weather.
She watched as her breath swirled up into the cosmos upon the cold night's air. The dropping temperature had only hindered her enthusiasm for stargazing slightly, making her dream longingly of a lovely cup of tea by the fire. Banishing the mirage, she once again craned her head back as far as it would go, ignoring her aching neck and soaking up the splendour of the sky above her.
It looks like heaven up there, she thought. Tonight was a spectacular sight: bright with thousands of diamonds that were twinkling playfully on the black canvas that they called home. Their light of silvery joy made Hermione feel so alive and peaceful as she basked in their glow. There was no moon that night, as it was at the end of its cycle, which also made it the best time to be out under the night sky–charting the constellations.
She had set herself up on the edge of the Forbidden Forest to do her mapping; using the stump of an old maple tree as her seat, hunching over her charts and maps. While it wasn't the best position in the world for her to be in, it did minimise the amount of movement she would have to make. the bitter autumn winds howled around her like an enraged demon. It made her grateful that she had the forethought to rug up in an extra layer for the night.
Her hands though, in their fingerless gloves, were still colder than the bottom of the Black Lake. It felt like her fingertips were frozen to the quill and nothing less than a long soak in a hot bath would be able to budge the feather from her icicle-like grip.
Only sheer stubbornness and her desire to graduate early kept her anchored to the rotting piece of wood, star chart splayed across her lap. She was working on a specific Astronomy project which was a necessary prerequisite she needed to have completed by early March if she wanted to be admitted to Ravenknot College. It was a magical university on the continent. The main reason Hermione wanted to go there though was that it provided the best course on Ancient Runes in the world–which was what she wanted to gain mastery in. She was hoping to be able to specialise in Norse Runes, as she found the language to be dually intriguing and a challenge to work with.
She glanced down at her map, taking in the crest of the university outlined on the paper. It reminded her of the other reason that she wanted to move away. Moving meant she would not have to deal with the stigma of being a war hero. She was sick of all the attention she had been receiving in Britain after the war. She couldn't take a step down Diagon Alley without being swarmed and mobbed by people wanting an autograph or to shake her hand or to get the scoop on what Harry Potter was really like.
No, she wouldn't have to put up with any of that nonsense at Ravenknot, and the fresh start would do her a world of good. Not to mention she was ecstatic at the thought of being able to study the magic of another culture–Ravenknot was based up in the Scandinavian regions of Europe. Where after no small amount of research she had found the magical practices were based in nature rather than the strict spellcasting of Britain.
It would be a privilege and an honour to study there, but that wouldn't happen if her mind kept wandering off to the far reaches of the universe. She was meant to be staring up at the stars to study the Norse constellations and how they potentially impacted ancient Arithmancy calculations, not dreaming of other galaxies and nebulas.
Frowning at herself, Hermione took in a deep breath of frosty air, letting it fill her lungs, burning her airways. She then exhaled through her mouth and enjoyed the brief bit of warm air that hit the tip of her nose. Mind back on track, she looked up at the sky once more and couldn't help but smile at the fortunate timing of seeing a shooting star streaking across the sky.
She glanced down at her chart to begin marking out the cluster of that stars that made up Odin's Chariot. She had just sketched out the tip of the constellation when she heard a gentle rumble of thunder in the distance followed by a loud roar. At first, she assumed it was the wind and ignored it, but as the sound got louder, she looked up again to see what it was and saw that the shooting star she had spotted earlier was actually still falling, and from the way it was getting closer and brighter, she realised that it was in fact heading in her direction.
A closer look though indicated it wasn't just her direction, but it was going to land right on top of her. So even when the roar reached a deafening level, making it feel like her eardrums were going to burst and like she couldn't' think, she still found it within herself to scurry off the stump and sprint for the shelter of the forest's tree line. She could hardly see where she was going as the blinding light of the star bore down on her, making her skin feel like it was burning up.
Squinting as she ran, she was just able to make out the fuzzy outline of a tree. Her panicked thoughts were a jumbled mess, but one clear message stood out: Keep running, don't look back.
She had nearly made it to the trees when the star collided with the earth. The blast of the impact came in a tremendous boom, and blowback of wind and air knocked Hermione off her feet. She landed face first in the dirt. On instinct, she curled up into a ball, arms covering her face to try and protect her eyes. As she did so, her left leg managed to graze against a sharp rock. She felt it tear her skin, but she didn't give it any thought, more worried about the world exploding around her.
She laid there for what felt like hours, or maybe it was only mere minutes, she couldn't tell. Eventually, she stopped shaking, and dared to raise her head. Hair covered most of her vision and darkness obscured her ability to take in a lot of detail, but she was able to make out a massive crater in the spot her stump had previously been.
As she looked at the crater, the horror of her stump being scorched off the face of the earth dawned on her. Her maps, her assignment, all of her charts, had been turned into charred ruins. It had taken her months of cold, exhausting nights to make as much progress as she had. And now, they were all gone. Her eye twitched, as she noticed some ash floating around in faint streaks of light that were pulsing above the crater.
The bright white light slowly faded and turned into a crescendo of many colours that danced along the rim of the crater. A miny aurora, she finally realised. She was mesmerised at what she was witnessing because it shouldn't be possible. An aurora this close to the ground? It just wasn't scientifically or magically possible.
Her awe took a sharp turn into terror as she heard a loud bellow of rage come from the sizeable human-like figure that was climbing out of the crater. The figure stopped at the rim of the crater and let rip another roar – the voice deep and full of fury. She flinched at the sheer anger that was being projected.
Staying mostly curled up in a ball, she tilted her head, in hope of getting a better look at the being that had crashed to earth. But it was still too far away and dark for her to make out any real details. But she was able to hear a lot better. She was able to tell that the roaring had changed in tone, going up and down.
Words, you idiot. It's speaking, she realised. Forcing herself to concentrate, Hermione realised that he was actually shouting words. But not in English. They sounded familiar and rang a distant bell in her mind but she couldn't quite grasp what they were until she remembered the texts that she had been studying of late. This being was speaking Ancient Norse fluently.
Her reading and writing skills for Ancient Languages had always been her strong suit and her speaking skills nowhere near on par, but she still had an ear for accents and knew enough to tell the difference between the modern language and one from the past.
She had to strain her ears and her brain to make out but she was able to just interpret what was been shouted up to the sky by the being.
"Why do you cast me out again, Father? Father, answer me!"
She furrowed her brows. She couldn't believe she was thinking this, but, was the star a man? From the outline and general shape of the being though, she would have to say so.
A furious man, she observed, if his cries of anger were anything to go by. Her brain was refusing to process what was happening though. Because it shouldn't be possible. Shooting stars were meant to be rocks, if anything, not flesh or anything sentient enough to be able to speak or yell menacingly at the heavens, such as this case. But the universe always did like to throw the odd and weird things at her, so this being in front of her most likely was the star.
Another shout pulled her from her thoughts. "Father, bring me back! You need me!"
It was a bit sad, to be honest—watching the Star Man shouting up at the heavens and to receive no answer. There was only the gentle whoosh of the breeze which had returned after the dust had settled from his crash.
Seemingly getting frustrated at this "father" person, the man stumbled around for a bit. Appearing to be searching for something on the ground. He—or at least she assumed a he from the deep voice—had begun calling out for someone different. It almost startled Hermione to realise that at some point he had started speaking English.
"Hammer! Father, where have you sent my hammer?"
A hammer? This being was getting stranger by the minute. He walked a full circle around the crater searching for the tool. When he was out of sight, she took the chance to raise herself up into a crouching position, so she could be ready to run for the cover of the forest if things got ugly.
Shortly, he came back to where she could see him. The aurora lights were also back to dancing around him, and her breath left her body in a rush, as she took the man - no, the angel, in. Because that was the only thing that made sense for him to be or maybe even the Devil, because the bastard had nearly killed her and had shredded up all of her notes.
A star that had fallen that was a perfectly formed, human-looking man. The only imperfection she could see on him was a dirty red cloak and long unkempt long blonde hair. His face was stunning, and his physique would be no doubt just as impressive. But what held her attention was the sheer size of him.
He was huge.
He was also starting to make his way to where she was. Not wanting to be trampled on by the disoriented star, man, angel—Merlin, whatever he was!
She made herself get up slowly, as to not startle him with the sudden movement.
He did spot her as soon as her head peaked above grass height and started crashing over to her, calling out the same thing again, a sad note to his voice this time though. "Hammer?"
She cleared her throat and gathered her courage to her sticking place. "No, I'm not Hammer. But are you alright, Mister?" she asked, concerned that the man seemed to now be repeating the same word over and over again.
Walking in a zigzag line until he was a few feet away from her, he came to a standstill and looked down at her.
Merlin, this close she could feel the energy pulsing off him. She still didn't know what he was but knowing where he came from - she knew it wasn't from around here.
He met her eyes for a few seconds, and she gasped at the white glow of his. Electric white and when he blinked they shifted to a soft baby blue, before charging back up to white again. Well, that wasn't normal and just another confirmation she had no idea what she was dealing with.
His gaze wandered off her eventually, and he began to look around her, no doubt looking for the hammer that he was so desperate to find. Staying rooted in place, she made another attempt to get his attention. "Excuse me, are you okay? Do you need help?"
The man's gaze snapped back to her, and he looked mighty confused as if trying to decipher what she was saying. "Hammer?" he asked her directly this time.
"No," she said, shaking her head, and then gesturing to herself, just to make sure that the blonde giant got her point, "Hermione, not Hammer. Her-mii-oo-nne."
"Hammer?" She slammed her hand against her forehead. This was going to be difficult if he stuck to repeating himself.
"No," she said slowly, shaking her head and pointing to herself again, "I'm Hermione." He blinked which she took as a sign that he might be understanding her. With that small bit of hope she pointed to him and asked, Who are you?"
"Hammer?"
"Sweet Odin—" she started to curse but was cut off by the snarl of the man.
He literally growled and then began to charge at her, full speed. Not having but a split second to think, Hermione held out a hand and shouted the first spell that came to mind. "Petrificus Totalus."
The giant man became as still as a statue for a moment, as the spell hit him in the middle of his broad chest, before he fell back, arms and legs snap rod straight. Lowering her hands which had risen up to cover her face, Hermione looked down at what she had done and sighed in relief.
She was safe. No angry blonde giant to rampage at her.
With him down and not moving, she took the chance to try and get a closer look at him. Timidly tiptoeing over to the hulking being, she still kept a safe distance before she took him in.
As she had suspected, he was quite lovely to look at, but upon closer inspection now, she could see that blood was also in his hair, and from the look of it, he had a head injury. That would explain the odd behaviour at least.
She put her hand inside the pocket of her woollen overcoat to pull out her wand but stopped as another loud cackle, like the first one from the falling star, sounded off in her ear. Her instant reaction was to crouch down into a little ball, bracing herself for the second impact, but the loud boom never came. She waited for at least two minutes, but there was still no seismic shakes from the second star or any light actually.
Daring to raise her head up, she saw that in the distance between her and the blonde was a giant mallet of all things, had landed in between them. Hermione didn't know how to process that.
How had that thing fell without a sound? Nor could she understand how it was glowing with Norse runes.
A grunt from the man had her snapping out her reverie and back to the situation at hand. She had an injured being that was in need of medical attention and with her being the only one around, the task fell to her. Dutifully she successfully pulled out her wand this time and waved it at him. He raised a few feet off the ground, and she made to walk him back towards the caste for some healing, but she stopped before she even made it a yard.
Pulled back by her conscience, Hermione ran back to the mallet thing and looked at it. She figured that this was most likely the hammer the bloke had been calling out about. It would probably be handy to have near if she needed to calm him down or to potentially defend herself. But how was she meant to carry the thing? It looked like it weighed a tonne...well she wouldn't know unless she tried. Bending down, Hermione grabbed hold of the leather bound handle and felt a shocking zap of warm energy pulse up her up her arm.
Not paying any heed to it, she gave a gentle tug and it didn't budge. Which again wasn't a shock, given how much the thing probably weighed. Stashing her wand back into her pocket, she placed both hands on the handle now and gave braced herself, legs square apart and put her back into heaving it up.
Even with all of that effort, she wasn't able to raise the thing any more than an inch. Letting it fall back to the ground with a loud thud, she flexed her hands to get some blood back into them. Her lack of strength and weak grip, probably due to the cold. Feeling like she had her blood pumping, she got back into the same stance and pulled…
"Gah!" she shouted in frustration as she couldn't lift it any higher. Grabbing her wand, she aimed it at the thing and with a familiar swish and flick...it didn't budge. Of course, Star Man's mallet wouldn't be moved with her magic.
Maybe, it was because it already had an enchantment on it, as she recalled it was glowing with Norse runes all over earlier. Sucking on her lip, she figured it could be worth a shot to see if she could get them to show up again.
"Revelio," she muttered and held her breath in anticipation to see if the spell would do anything.
She waited for about ten seconds before letting out a huff of air. Well, it wasn't unexpected as Wingardium Leviosa hadn't worked on it, but that left her with the problem of what the hell she was going to do with it and how was she meant to carry it?
She didn't have time to think her of anything else in case Star Man came to, which left her with the most distasteful option of dragging it off to someone safe and out of sight until she could go back and grab it later, once the man his injuries looked at by Pomfrey.
Sighing, Hermione rubbed her hands together and pulled with all of her might on the hammer and started making her way towards the forest. She had made it halfway when she heard a grunt coming from the man, and she flinched.
Thank Circe, just a false alarm, she thought to herself. But it was still a good reminder that the spell wasn't going to hold for much longer, so she needed to pick up the pace.
She was drenched with sweat, under her many layers, by the time she had the hammer safely shoved up against the closest tree she could find. She was exhausted by the physical exertion of dragging it so far. It honestly did have to weigh a tonne.
She bent over, hands on her knees trying to catch her breath for a second. As she was panting, she hazily managed to remember that she would need to cast concealment on it otherwise whoever was strolling by during the day might find it.
Hermione never got around to cast the spell though, as she heard a low rumbling coming in the distance. She instantly looked up, worrying that it was going to be another being falling out of the sky. But as the sound got closer, she was able to make out that it wasn't coming from upwards...which left, the forest.
"Shit," she cursed, as she realised just what the sound was and why it sounded so familiar. She hadn't heard it since the fifth year, but you never did forget what a pack of centaurs on the run sounded like, and it was definitely hooves pounding against the ground in a gallop. What was worse though, they were getting closer and closer by the second.
Not wanting to be trampled or be caught in their crossfire, she started to sprint back to the man, eager to get them out of there. She hastily threw another, "Wingardium Leviosa" at him before taking off towards the castle as fast as she could.
As she ran, the man bobbed along beside her. She felt slightly bad that his hair, so long and blonde, was dragging along the ground and most likely picking up all sorts of muck, but her primary concern was not being around centaurs and getting out of sight as quickly as possible.
But no matter how fast or far she ran the sound of hoofbeats still followed, meaning that they were chasing after her. Not good. Not good. Not good!
Pushing herself to go faster, she willed her legs to move and to not give in, not yet.
She was getting tired, so tired...the running and the dragging from earlier...
But the castle was in sight she just had a bit more to go…Merlin, the sound of hooves was right behind her, they were so close, she could hear the heavy breathing of the centaur. Closer and closer he was getting.
What do they want? was her last thought as she felt something hard collide with the back of her head and she once again saw stars.