Disclaimer: I don't own the Harry Potter series, Hermione, or Draco. (Duh.)

However, I DO own Zan'thator, because I made it up and it's not actually a real thing. (Duh.)

Another disclaimer: All the details I made about the brief allusion to Doctor Who are made up, because at this point, like pretty much everyone else, I know NOTHING about the 12th Doctor. (Duh.)

All that being said, enjoy the story!


Hermione settled into her desk chair with a sigh. Another long day. One chemistry test, two (TWO?!) quizzes in English, and she had already spent three hours studying for tomorrow's huge history exam. Thank goodness the day was over.

Now night had fallen.

Hermione Granger, typical brainiac high school sophomore, was not the same ordinary girl under the cover of darkness. No. When the sun descended beneath the horizon, she was someone very different.

She was Layla Dred of the Dark Realm of Zan'thator. And she was a Level-50 BADASS.

Explanation is necessary.

Zan'thator is an immensely popular online role-playing game in which players choose their name, physical features, calling, and alliance. Hermione's avatar was Layla Dred, and as her calling she had chosen to be a Witch.

Most people, when they join Zan'thator, like their avatars to look like themselves. Layla was no different—maybe her hair was a bit less bushy, and maybe her breasts were just a tad larger, but she still looked like Hermione.

Granted, anyone can make themselves look like anyone in Zan'thator, so Hermione mostly stayed away from the areas where people congregated to "make friends."

Of Realms in Zan'thator there are four: the Light Realm (the goody-two-shoes always striving for "peace" and "harmony"), the Dark Realm (spreading evil and chaos, oh my!), the Realm of Priesthood (not much goes on here except complicated rituals, but it's a great place to meet hot people), and the Pleasantly Neutral Realm (yeah, that's its name; no one really joins this one, the creators just wanted to have four realms).

Hermione, needless to say, was part of the Dark Realm. It was the fun one, wasn't it? Going on quests to retrieve objects of dark magic, mixing poisons to replace ordinary potions in apothecaries, making Dark explorations. (There was nothing really Dark about this. Hermione just like exploring the vast forests, plains, and towns of Zan'thator.)

But today she had a very special mission. Her favorite kind, in fact.

An assassination.

She was one of the most experienced and powerful witches in the Dark Realm, and so her help was frequently sought for a variety of tasks, by both individuals and the Dark Masters who ruled from the Dark Towers in the very heart of the Dark Realm—the city of Dark Doom. (Dark, Dark, Darkity Dark.)

Yesterday she had received her assignment, and it was a doozy: she had to kill the last remaining Light Master (who ruled from the Light Towers in the very heart of the Light Realm—the city of Light Lightness, blah blah blah), a Level-60 Wizard by the name of Xanthius, and thus allow the Light Realm to finally fall to Darkness and chaos.

Though I have no idea what we'll call all the cities in the Light Realm after we take over, thought Hermione. We've pretty much exhausted all the names with "Dark."

The Dark Leaders were ruthless and powerful but terribly unimaginative. (It can be supposed that the Light Leaders are as well; Zan'thator rarely attracted extremely creative people, though Hermione could be considered an exception.)

Hermione logged on with haste, her heart pounding with excitement and bloodlust and her mind going through her plan of action—it was a good one. When she was Layla, her plans never failed.

When she was Hermione—well, that was a different story. In real life, she had a knack for making enemies. And not the cool, fight-to-the-death kind you make in Zan'thator. Teenagers could be cruel, and without Layla's magic, she had no way to fight back. Hermione bristled at the mere thought of one individual in particular.

Layla materialized where she had left off yesterday, on a huge rock near a roaring waterfall. In Hermione's mind, she might as well have been there herself. She could almost feel the water's spray, almost smell the freshness of the woods and the blood of the fallen Elf she had slain the last time she had logged on. Plus, the animation was REALLY GOOD.

Layla surveyed her surroundings and, seeing no need to watch the Elves come for the corpse, she gracefully hopped (Zan'thator: the only reality in which Hermione could feel graceful, and it was online. Figures.) off the rock and made her way through the Reasonably Calm Woods and out of the Pleasantly Neutral Realm.

She stood on the intersection of the two most traveled roads in Zan'thator. The North/South Road lead to the Dark and Light Realms, respectively, and the East/West Road led to the Pleasantly Neutral Realm and the Realm of Priesthood.

Hermione liked this spot. It was one of the only places where you could see all four Realms, their towers gleaming majestically in the waning sunlight.

Yes, waning, for it would not be day for long. Night was falling with Zan'thator-like rapidity, and Layla had a job to complete.

Glory would be hers.

Layla started off on the South Road for a little while, and then moved into the forest at a safe distance so she wouldn't be recognized by Light travelers. Dark Ones never came to the Light Realm unless they had a job to do, and her presence, if noticed, would raise considerable alarm.

Layla had visited this Realm many times before, and knew the best way to get in. There were walls surrounding the city, but of course she would get in by way of the sewers. Stupid Light Ones, thought Hermione as she navigated Layla through the sewer tunnels. They never think of the sewers.

The easy part was reaching Xanthius' tower. It was the most distinctive of them all, and also the only one that looked inhabited. Hermione could just make out a light shining in his window.

Night enveloped Layla as she began to scale the side of the tower. Due to the darkness and the creatures that liked to roam around at night, most of Zan'thator would be inside, poring over texts and reporting on quests. That is, unless they had a mission, which, of course, Layla did.

Layla paused beneath Xanthius' window, preparing herself. Then she launched her plan into action.

She situated herself on a ledge and brought her hands together, summoning all of her Fire Magic into one ball of destructive flames. With a surge of her energy, she lobbed it over her head and into the window.

Well, she never said it was a complicated plan. It was the same one she used for major assassinations (of which she had completed two), and never failed. She didn't want to use it too often, though, because it sapped her energy level, like Fire Magic always did. Besides, if she made it her trademark, she would lose the element of surprise and mystery. She preferred to remain an enigma to her Zan'thatorian enemies—Layla Dred, unpredictable and dangerous.

Everything lit up like a tower on fire. Which it was. A tower on fire.

Layla waited a few minutes for the flames to dissipate. All fell silent. With careful determination, she hefted herself up over the window to collect Xanthius' remains and bring them triumphantly to the Dark Masters.

Except there were no remains. Because he wasn't dead.

He wasn't dead, but he was very, very angry.

Caught off guard by the sight, Layla was unable to protect herself from the surge of power that rushed toward her, knocking her to the floor of the tower and rendering her immobile.

Rage and humiliation tore through Hermione. She would finish this, even if it finished her.

Xanthius held her with white tendrils of electricity, sparking against her and only making her more thirsty for his blood. From this angle she was able to get a good look at Xanthius; he had pretentious white-blond hair, pale skin, and was dressed in all white. Figures. But somehow, he reminded Hermione of someone. But she wasn't sure who….

A text box appeared at the bottom of her screen. Xanthius was talking to her.

XANTHIUS: HOW DARE YOU THROW FIREBALLS AT ME? THAT'S SO NOT COOL.

You'd think he'd sound more—well, great and powerful.

LAYLA: TO KILL YOU, SCUM OF THE LIGHT REALM. LIKE, DUH.

Because it was so obvious.

XANTHIUS: BUT WHY? WHAT WOULD YOU GAIN BY KILLING ME?

Hermione was surprised due to two things: one, that she wasn't already dead. And two… that she wasn't already dead. That was a real stumper. But, thought Hermione, I guess he'd want to make an "I'm the better man here" show of things before he finishes me off. The electricity continued to crackle and sap her health level, which was dangerously low.

LAYLA: I SEEK GLORY IN THE EYES OF THE DARK MASTERS. I WISH TO STRIKE FEAR IN THE HEARTS OF THE LIGHT ONES.

Now this was a bit better.

LAYLA: WHEN YOU ARE DEAD AND THE LIGHT REALM HAS FALLEN, DARKNESS WILL RULE THROUGHOUT THE FOUR REALMS.

It sure helped that messaging other users in Zan'thator had only one volume level: yelling menacingly. You couldn't use lowercase.

Xanthius' figure on the screen scratched his head, and obvious sign of confusion.

XANTHIUS: BUT THEN, WHO WOULD YOU FIGHT? WITH ME GONE AND THE LIGHT REALM YOURS, YOU WILL HAVE WON, BUT AT WHAT PRICE?

Wait a minute.

Both Hermione and Layla paused. After killing this guy, what would be left? She'd just have to go back to terrorizing elves if there was no more Light Realm.

As much as she hated to think it, things in Zan'thator would be pretty dull without the Light Ones. Nobody to kill.

The world that Hermione held so dearly would be—boring. And without excitement and adventure in Zan'thator, how would she escape from reality?

Hermione was jolted out of thought by a beeping noise in her headset. Oh, no. Her health level was nearly down to nothing. Xanthius would be able to see it, too. His electricity was killing her.

Layla did not fight back. Maybe it would be best….

All of a sudden, Xanthius' electricity receded and the beeping topped. Slowly but surely, Layla's health level began to creep back up. But why did he do that?

Hermione, dropping all pretenses, typed:

LAYLA: ?

XANTHIUS: I DO NOT SEEK GLORY IN THE KILLING OF OTHERS.

Ugh. What a pompous douchebag. Most of the people in Zan'thator were there because IT'S FUN TO KILL THINGS SOMETIMES.

But there was no use in contradicting him. He might change his mind, and it was not a risk Hermione was willing to take.

Xanthius extended a hand and helped Layla up. Both standing, he was a bit taller than she, and again Hermione got the feeling that she knew this guy from somewhere.

They sat at a small table next to a row of bookcases (which, upon seeing, Hermione made a little noise of approval) and both were silent for a while. Neither was quite sure what to say, but it didn't seem right for Layla to just walk out of Xanthius' tower.

So they were quiet.

Awkward.

Soooooo awkward.

Finally:

XANTHIUS: SO… I TAKE IT THAT THIS IS SOME KIND OF TRUCE.

LAYLA: I GUESS. I'M NOT GOING TO KILL YOU, AND YOU'RE NOT GOING TO KILL ME, SO "TRUCE" SEEMS AN ACCEPTABLE TERM.

Hermione, in her message, had in fact used a famous line from the 12th Doctor in Doctor Who; it was a line he said in one of the first episodes of series 8, when he was fighting the Gargalumps from the planet Sakdfjfsl. (Don't worry, Hermione couldn't really pronounce it, either.)

XANTHIUS: WAIT. YOU'RE A DOCTOR WHO FAN?

LAYLA: YEAH… ARE YOU?

XANTHIUS: OH MY GOD, YES. WHAT DID YOU THINK OF THE LAST EPISODE? I WAS SO SAD TO SEE CLARA DIE.

And thus a friendship was born. Isn't it funny how the most different people end up having long-winded conversations about things like Doctor Who? And to think that they had almost killed each other.

They spent hours messaging each other (mostly about DW) with no regard for how late it was. When Hermione finally tore her eyes away from the screen, it was two AM. But she didn't feel tired.

XANTHIUS: AND I WAS SITTING THERE WITH MY EYES FIXED ON THE TV SCREEN, CRYING AND YELLING "MY FATHER WILL HEAR ABOUT THIS!"

LAYLA: HAHA, I KNOW. IT WAS A REALLY PAINFUL EPISODE.

Wait. Wait a minute, Hermione thought. She had heard someone say those words before.

LAYLA: HOLD ON—I JUST REALIZED THAT I DON'T EVEN KNOW YOUR NAME!

XANTHIUS: YOU'RE RIGHT, sAND I DON'T KNOW YOURS. OKAY, ON THE COUNT OF THREE, TYPE IN YOUR NAME. ONE…

LAYLA: TWO…

XANTHIUS: THREE!

LAYLA: HERMIONE GRANGER

XANTHIUS: DRACO MALFOY

Uh-oh.

LAYLA: OH, SHIT.

XANTHIUS: OH, SHIT.

Hermione groaned. Somehow she had found her nemesis on Zan'thator, failed in killing him, and spent hours talking to him about Doctor Who. I don't know how to feel about this, she thought.

Hey, wait. Draco Malfoy on an online RPG? Hermione giggled, something she rarely did. It really was too funny to be true. Pompous Pinch-Face, in Zan'thator? It was too hilarious.

But she wasn't laughing for long. Another ping announced that Xanthius had said something. Hermione uneasily returned her attention to the screen. To Xanthius. To Draco.

XANTHIUS: SO MUCH FOR HATING EACH OTHER.

Hermione breathed a sigh of relief. Thank goodness.

LAYLA: JUST ANOTHER THING I'VE FAILED AT.

XANTHIUS: WELL, IT'S NOT LIKE IT'S A BAD THING THAT YOU CAN'T DO ANYTHING RIGHT.

Hermione laughed, and replied.

LAYLA: I GUESS IT'S A GOOD THING THAT YOU'RE ONE OF THE GOOD GUYS NOW.

XANTHIUS: I'VE ALWAYS BEEN ONE OF THE GOOD GUYS. BUT I'M THE KIND THAT LIKES A BAD GIRL.

Is he actually flirting with me? Hermione giggled again. Draco Malfoy.

Well, stranger things have happened.