"Miss Hoshokuji," Kyoya greeted, and the chill made his fellow hosts shiver. Renge, characteristically, was immune.

"Yes, Kyoya?" She was busying herself with arranging flowers on Honey and Mori's table, a touch that was unnecessary but not unwelcome.

It was such a domestic scene. Kyoya's eye twitched. "Why are you in here before club hours? And where is Miss Granger?" It had been his understanding that she would not come back without righting her mistake.

"Oh, oh! I found her in the Black Magic Club, and she was a lot nicer than I thought at first! She told me that she'd only been studying in here for a few days, and that she isn't all that attached to you all. How sweet of you, to go out of your way to be so kind to someone who isn't even your friend!" Indeed, a weight seemed to have been lifted off of Renge's shoulders.

"I see," said Kyoya. Things were worse than he'd thought. What could draw a steady, practical, boring individual like Granger to the Black Magic Club? He would suspect that Renge were lying, if she were capable of performing such a feat with any measure of skill, except for the event that had drawn the Host Club to Granger in the first place.

The Black Magic Club didn't actually perform magic, however, only chanted in circles and threw curses at the walls in the hopes that something would actually work. If Granger was a person with magical skill, which he still seriously doubted, then that still didn't explain why she would choose to spend her time with such a phony crowd.

Renge moved to stand in front of him. "Why are you upset? Was I wrong to leave her there?"

"Yes," Kyoya said.

"But she didn't want to come!" Renge cried, calling the attention of the other hosts. "And she's a commoner anyway, so she has no designs on getting close to any group here. Even that new club she's in is just a way to pass time for everyone, I can tell. Next week they'll be bored of her and she'll go somewhere else. She doesn't care about the Host Club! I couldn't have brought her back no matter how hard I tried! I did the right thing!" Here she stomped her foot in a petulant move she must have learned from an anime, tears welling artfully in her eyes.

Kyoya was unimpressed. "Miss Hoshokuji, please do see yourself out before our guests begin arriving."

His friends watched with wary eyes as he sat on the couch and opened his laptop, and Renge looked stunned for a moment before fleeing.

###x###

Halloween was fast approaching, and as it drew near the Black Magic Club cultivated a swelling mania. Hermione wanted nothing to do with it.

Umehito had tried to get her to stay, even to the point of reluctantly offering to tone his love of Halloween and Samhain, but Hermione would have none of it. She was content to make herself scarce for a week or so until the excitement died down.

Not that anyone knew it, but she wasn't really going anywhere. Umehito would be both amused and concerned to learn that she'd stopped going to her apartment altogether except on weekends. The small, secret room called to her, and all of its flaws were easily fixed by (sometimes complex) magic. Its security was improved by Muggle-repelling wards and various Notice-Me-Nots, and its size was expanded with only a single enchantment chain. It was a home worthy of her.

She was confident that she would not be found unless she wanted to be, but she'd also taken steps to make sure she would always know if she was needed. She'd bugged the Black Magic Club room, and set up less-intense aura detection across the entire school.

Halloween. A day she'd likely spend pining after feasts and Hogsmeade visits and Harry and Ron. There was no reason to subject anyone to that.

As perfect as her abode was, it got lonely sometimes. She felt as though she was the hermit witch on the mountain, looking after the kingdom but rarely visited.

"What are you doing outside the care of your friends in the occult, Miss Granger?" Ootori asked.

"I wondered when you would speak up," she said, having known of his entry the moment his energy came into range.

Ootori said nothing.

"Nekozawa would laugh if he heard you suggest that they're protecting me," she mumbled, knowing he would hear. "They couldn't protect an ant farm. And what makes you think I need 'care' in the first place?"

"You're awfully chatty today," he remarked.

"Sure I am. I've been reading all morning and I'm so far ahead on my schoolwork I could probably just show up for exams at the end of term and pass everything. Wouldn't that make you chatty?" It had been, what, two weeks since she'd last spoken to him? What could he possibly want from her?

There was silence from them both for several long moments, but at last Ootori said, "Miss Hoshokuji was meant to bring you back with her. Why didn't you go?"

"What do you mean? What possible reason could I have had? The twins offered me a place to study in exchange for me entertaining them by butting heads with you. I've found somewhere else to study which also offers far fewer arguments per capita." Hermione dragged her thumbnail across the page. She didn't ask why he was asking, or what reason they could have for wanting her back. It was confusing and a little bit frightening, and she wasn't sure they even had a reason. Wouldn't that be disappointing?

Ootori sighed, a puff of breath which felt warm even from three yards away. "That does explain why the twins are so sullen lately, but not why the rest are. They performed their duties far better before you left, and I would appreciate it if you did your part to restore equilibrium."

"Not that I really have a grasp on the situation, but I suspect if you want your fellow hosts back at peak performance, it has more to do with Miss Hoshokuji's arrival than my departure."

For the first time, Hermione could detect true irritation from Ootori. "I'll be frank with you, Miss Granger. It is my hope that your presence will help drive her away. She's proving to be difficult to... dislodge."

"I don't owe you anything, you know," Hermione said.

"Yes, I know."

"You're a smart boy, so I'm sure you know what that means. You'll owe me if I do this little favor for you."

"Yes, I know," he said through gritted teeth.

"If you're really willing to pay the price, then fine." Hermione shut her book with a finality which rang throughout the room. "Club hours are about to begin. You're cutting it close, here. Lead the way."

###x###

"Trust Kyoya to achieve the impossible," Hikaru coughed.

"It wasn't impossible," Granger said primly.

She and the twins bickered for a bit, and in the meantime Kyoya observed the countenances of his friends. Honey and Mori were no less standoffish and Tamaki was no less sullen than he'd been before. The twins did seem much happier now that they had their toy back, which was progress, at least.

Renge hadn't yet arrived, and going off of the pervasive aura of dread, no one was looking forward to her showing up.

Before long, the hosts excused themselves to get into position, for the guests would soon be arriving. Granger shuffled off to her table against the far wall, opening up a tome that even Kyoya had to acknowledge was excessively thick, and tuned them out with an efficiency that was almost impressive.

The doors opened, and without there was a group of four of their regulars.

"Good afternoon," he said, his voice more smooth and deep than normal. "May I assume you'd like to request Tamaki?"

"Oh! Yes, thank you," breathed the most talkative of them.

"Is that girl from a few weeks ago back?" one of the others, notable only by her pixie cut, said. "The honour student?"

"Yes, she is, though perhaps not permanently," said Kyoya, and flashed a blinding smile.

As usual, the girls stopped blinking and just stared at him, and when they unfroze there was a giddy quality to their voices when they walked away. It was a surefire way to get them to stop asking questions.

The girls filtered in steadily, though all stopped by Kyoya to request their host of choice. As always, Tamaki was well in the lead.

"Ootori," said a voice from behind him. "How are the accounts doing?"

"I hardly think that's any of your business," Kyoya said coldly, "since you aren't a part of the club."

"That's too bad,: Granger said. "I was only wondering whether the presence of a non-guest girl would lower profit margins."

"You mean you were trying to come up with proof that you shouldn't be around," Kyoya said. "And as a matter of fact, we're having a particularly profitable day. Considering there's no change from the usual and it's not a cosplay day, one may assume that your presence doesn't hurt."

"Good to know," she grumbled. "No, no, that makes sense, sort of. Perhaps it would be one thing if I were a regular student, but I'm a foreign transfer. It would be better if I were a boy, I suspect, but the novelty does its work even considering my gender."

"Correct," said Kyoya, who'd already thought of that. "You see Tamaki? Part of his success stems from his obviously different nationality."

"It fits with his role," Granger said, nodding. "It wouldn't work as well with the fantasy if he were completely Japanese."

"Indeed," said Kyoya.

When he heard no response, he assumed she'd gone back to her tome, but upon turning around he saw her still standing there, though no longer facing him. She watched the room with calculating eyes.

"What do you think would happen if you became a host?" he asked. He'd spoken to Tamaki about it, and they'd agreed that perhaps that was the best option. Renge's harsh words had stuck with them all. Kyoya may not be particularly fond of Granger, but he could recognize that she was a good person to have around, and would almost certainly be a profitable addition to their ranks.

"Assuming I change my personality to be more acceptable, and work more on my appearance, the addition of guests who are attracted to women would add a neat increase to both traffic and revenue," she said, her voice as blank and toneless as any businessman's. "Success is contingent on those factors, however. It may be better to introduce someone else as the first female host. Miss Hoshokuji, perhaps." A hint of mirth crawled into her words, and Kyoya found himself amused.

"I'm confident that Miss Hoshokuji could only drive guests away," he said. "You, however, have insight into what works and why. If you put in the effort, you could be successful."

"While I am flattered by this hypothetical, it would do nothing for my plans for the future. Becoming a hostess would damage my prospects if I try to go into anything legitimate. Men and women are treated differently in this world, Ootori. Surely your sister has taught you that much?" She still hadn't turned to look at him, and so Kyoya didn't feel quite as much of an urge to suppress the scowl which took over his face.

"Fuyumi is content," he said, not asking how Granger had even known about her, much less her personal feelings or situation.

"I'm sure she is now," Granger said, "but can you imagine how it must have felt to know that she would never have a place in her own family's business? And you think that being the third son is bad enough. If you show enough aptitude then someday you may play a part, but your sister will never have that chance, and only because she was born a woman."

"It's the way things are. She's accepted it."

"Now imagine that when she was in high school, she grew frustrated with her lot in life and accepted an invitation to be a hostess, entertaining and flirting with boys. Would she still be looking for a marriage contract now, I wonder? Would your father have disowned her?"

She had a point. His father wouldn't be happy to find out what Kyoya was doing in his free time, but it would be much, much worse if Fuyumi had been in his place. He would have called her a whore, disowned her, cut off her allowance and her dowry. However— "It's one thing for a woman of my sister's status, but quite another for a foreign orphan commoner."

"As my brief introduction to Miss Hoshokuji informed me, I already have enough people whispering about my low breeding. There's no need to increase those numbers."

"You're almost the top student in our year, though," Kyoya said. He'd checked. If she'd been there for the first semester then it was entirely likely that she would have taken over his own position as top student. The technicality didn't sit easy with him. "Some people will look down on you no matter what you do."

"The truth is malleable. Who's to say I didn't sleep my way there, hm? That's what they'll say if I do become a host. You're just a step away from sex workers, you know."

"And how would things go if you had the support of several families with wealth and influence?"

"I couldn't ask for that," Granger snapped. "And I have no guarantee of follow-through. It would be moronic and naive of me to entrust my future to high school students who would face no consequences should they conveniently 'forget' their promises."

Kyoya wanted to protest their honorability, but that would be missing the point. "You aren't talking like you're refusing," he realized.

"You're right," Granger said in a half-laugh. "In the end, I doubt it'll be a concern."

"Why is that?"

Granger turned to face him at last, and despite her cheerful expression there was a gravity to her which made Kyoya pay close attention to her words. "I'm good at persuading people," she said, and her smile didn't reach her eyes.

"Think about it," said Kyoya, skin prickling.

"There's no need," said Granger. "If you're serious about your offer, then I accept. It sounds interesting. Though I will have to let Umehito know... That won't be a fun conversation. Perhaps it'll be an opportunity to test the potion. He'll have fun with that." Her voice had devolved into a stream-of-consciousness mumble, not meant for his ears but not a secret either.

"We'll start working on your persona after club hours end today. I trust you'll stick around until then?"

"Of course," she said. "Remember, Ootori, you owe me."

He might someday soon regret allowing himself to become indebted to this loan shark. Kyoya pushed up his glasses and coughed. When he looked up Granger was walking away, and it occurred to him that there was a peculiar juxtaposition of stillness and motion to her; her hair, though delicate tendrils escaped her serviceable plait, remained fixed and immobile, but the hem of her shirt ruffled in an unseen breeze. Her image was hazy, as though she vibrated with power. It was such a silly thing to strike fear into his heart, but strike fear it did.

Perhaps, with Granger, magic wasn't so far-fetched.

###x###

"What's the main demographic of boys who would seek out the services of a high school host club?" Granger asked. She chewed on the end of her pen and then stopped, looking down at it with surprised irritation. "Lonely boys, I'll bet. Romantics, obviously. They'll be wanting a virtual girlfriend experience. What do you all think?"

"What about allure, mystery?" Tamaki suggested, swooning backwards. "Surely any boy who—"

"No," said Granger. "Yes, that's one of the archetypes, but not the main one. There's only one of me, remember, and we need to balance my own natural acting ability with the most profitable persona. Thank you for your input, though. Certainly, if you do decide to include another hostess, that would be the right choice."

Poor Tamaki didn't know what to do with such understated praise, and he sat down again with a perplexed, pleased expression.

"Right, so you should be a virtual girlfriend," said one of the twins, who'd sat on Granger's right side.

"But what would that entail specifically?" said the other, who'd sat on Granger's left side.

Granger tapped the pen against the table. "Good question. Do you have any suggestions?"

"Pour tea."

"Be sweet."

"Keep those books around—"

"But not too many."

"Or too often."

"Use friendly language."

"Ask about themselves a lot."

Granger jotted each point down in neat, round script. "A good start," she said, and the twins beamed. "I'll have to practice the—"

The doors swung open with such force that they hit the walls and recoiled.

Kyoya closed his eyes, feeling a headache coming on already. How had he forgotten about Renge?

"Oh, Kyoya, you didn't tell me you brought that commoner back here!" Renge was all smiles, and those smiles were made of far more canines than the human mouth contained.

"This is Hermione Granger, our newest host," said Kyoya.

Granger, on cue, stood and said, "A pleasure to see you again, Miss Hoshokuji. How have you been?" Her eyes were huge and round, her smile gentle and unassuming. It was as though she'd donned a Nadeshiko coat.

"I've been fine," said Renge, who seemed suddenly uncertain. "I thought you said you had no interest in coming back here?"

"That's true, but I thought it a worthy endeavor to help out my classmates. Don't you think so?" The question was so soft, so worldly, that Kyoya himself would have felt uncomfortable arguing with her.

"Yes, I- I suppose," said Renge.

"Please, come sit with me," said Granger. "I'll pour you some tea. Is Earl Grey all right? It's a favorite of mine." Renge nodded dumbly, and Hermione poured them both a cup of tea.

"Every time I meet you, you're a different person," Renge mumbled.

"Does the inconsistency bother you?"

"Yes!" cried Renge. "How can you be so cheerful one day, so blunt the next, and now so soft? How is anyone supposed to know how to treat you? How can anyone trust you?"

"Perhaps you expect too much from others," Granger said. "No one is consistent. That's what being human is. Are you social and bubbly all the time, Miss Hoshokuji?"

"No, of course not."

"Sometimes you don't feel like it, is that right? Sometimes you don't have the energy?"

"I suppose."

"It would certainly be convenient if everyone stayed the same, but then how does anyone learn?" Granger smiled again, sipping her tea. "Do you think you give others enough credit? It takes work to present yourself exactly as you are, whether you're flouting expectations or not."

Renge, thoughtful, was mimicking Granger's posture. Her spine straightened, her hands coming to fold over her teacup like an embrace. "Maybe you're right," she said.

Granger reached out a hand and grasped Renge's for only a moment before retreating.

"You remind me of my mother," said Renge at last. And then, quieter, "I miss her."

"I miss my mother, too," Granger said. "But she's safer where she is. I like to think she's happier, too."

Kyoya, who'd forgotten he was even a person, came back to himself at the beginning of such uncharacteristic emotional vulnerability. The others were similarly entranced, staring at the marvelous change in Granger's entire countenance.

"Miss Hoshokuji, you're a sweet girl." A blatant lie. "If you need to talk to someone, I'm here. But for now, the other hosts and I need to arrange matters for tomorrow."

"May I stay here?" Renge begged.

"Is that a good idea? You'd have to be very quiet and entertain yourself. Can you do that?" Here her voice went low, a velvet crowbar, and she took another sip of tea.

"Yes!" said Renge.

"How about this, Miss Hoshokuji. You may stay just for today, but you must keep your promise. If you cannot, then tomorrow you will listen when I ask you to go. All right?"

"Okay," said Renge. "Okay, I'll go sit over there. Is that good?"

"Yes, that's good." Granger put her finger over her mouth, reminding Renge that she was to be quiet.

"Mione, you're amazing!" Honey cried once Renge was settled in at a table across the parlor.

Granger shrugged, a roguish grin overtaking her encouraging smile in the space of a blink. "It's positively Freudian," she crowed.

Kyoya sighed, knowing without even looking that Tamaki would be confused. "She means that boys want to date people who remind them of their mothers, and girls want to date people who remind them of their fathers."

"Creepy," said the twins.

"In a manner of speaking," said Granger. "It's more like people instinctively try to recreate their own upbringing, with themselves as one parent and a partner as the other. It does tend to get problematic, however, when the upbringing was less than ideal."

"Anyway," said Kyoya pointedly, "Was that the persona you plan on using?"

"Yes," said Granger.

"Are you sure you can keep that up?" It seemed so different from her normal personality. It was fantastic, true, but was it sustainable?

"It's not so different from... yes, I can keep it up." A twinge of pain flashed across her face, but was just as soon gone.

"If you say so, then let's move on to other matters."

###x###

Granger started the next day. She showed up to Music Room #3 in her regular uniform, black slacks and a white button-down. She was bare-faced.

"I'll need to be more feminine," she began, all business. "What do you have for me?"

"The regular uniform would be ill-advised, in my opinion. Not only will you blend in, it's too playful for your persona. In light of this, I've prepared this." He set a bundle of silk down on the arm of a nearby sofa.

Granger swept up the cloth and shook it out. "It looks... good," she said. It was a more feminine upgrade of her current uniform: a fitted silk button-down blouse with long sleeves and a black pleated skirt which would come down to just above her knees.

"I've also taken the liberty of calling a makeup artist. We can work with him and figure out exactly the look we want, and he'll teach you how to replicate it."

"Perfect," said Granger. "When does he get here?"

"Any minute now," Kyoya said. He was meant to arrive before Granger did, but Granger was early.

"Even better. I'll go get changed." She threaded her way through couches and tables to a door on the far side of the room, which was close to the door to the kitchenette.

Kyoya watched her go with the same bemusement he always felt around her.

It took barely half an hour to work with the cosmetician, who spun out makeup products one after the other only for Granger to shoot them down.

"Natural," she emphasized. "Not too glamorous. I want to be able to pass for wearing nothing. Can you do that?" she seemed unusually knowledgeable of the technicalities of makeup, but Kyoya supposed that it wasn't that unusual.

"Will you be able to do this again?" Kyoya asked once the man took his leave.

Granger gave him a look that told him that he was possibly the least intelligent being she'd ever met. "Yes," she said.

He had his doubts. The makeup artist had been worth the price; her face was sculpted, her eyes darker than usual, her mouth a faint berry color just a smidge deeper than her natural tone. When she blinked, her eyelashes lay in perfect sooty crescents against her cheeks, although there was no hint of mascara anywhere. She was pretty, but not gorgeous, as they'd requested.

"You'll see," she said. "Come practice with me, Ootori. We have enough time."

They took a moment to rearrange the sofas so that three couches faced a central coffee table, and placed an armchair in the remaining spot. The armchair would be for Granger, obviously.

"Sit, please," she said in a smooth, kind voice, gesturing to the spot closest to her. "We didn't get a chance to speak earlier, what with all the preparations. Please tell me about your day, Mr Ootori."

"You may call me Kyoya," he said before he'd thought it through. Despite himself, her voice purred in his bones, and he was left momentarily speechless. He could completely understand how she'd shut down Renge the day before. It was very different having such attention directed at him personally.

They talked at length, and Kyoya failed to notice when the other hosts arrived and assembled.

"It's nearly time, Kyoya," she said, and his insides jumped. It was surprise that the time had gotten away from him, not pleasure that she'd spoken his name, he told himself.

He unfolded from the sofa and made his way to his station near the door, shaking his head to clear the fuzz from his thoughts.

The doors opened, and a pair of girls came in and looked around. "There's a new host?" they said. "Kyoya, Kyoya, is there a new host?"

Kyoya nodded. "Ladies, may I introduce you to our first hostess? Hermione, come here, please."

Granger's movements seemed to flow together, as though ten steps were one single dance. "Ladies," she said, curtsying. "I'm happy to see you here."

"This is Hermione Granger," Kyoya said, his blood running thick with pride. "Hermione, this is Miss Matsumoto and Miss Honda."

Granger smiled something slow and gentle, and the girls had no choice but to smile back. "Your presence honours us," she said.

The girls tittered their thanks, cheeks flushed, and requested Tamaki.

"Stay here," Kyoya said. "It's more efficient than coming up every time a guest arrives."

"As you say," said Granger, clasping her hands together at her front.

"You're doing very well," he said. "Keep it up."

"Thank you, Kyoya."

###x###

"Six requests. That's not bad at all," Ootori said.

"If you say so," said Hermione. Her only frames of reference were the other hosts, who'd had months to build up their clientele. Ootori was unlikely to try to comfort her about her performance, so she would trust him.

"Are we still visiting your new resort this weekend, Kyoya?" Tamaki asked.

"Yes," Ootori said. "However, we will have to make additional arrangements for Miss Granger. Assuming she's free this weekend, that is?"

It was clear that it was a not-so-subtle order that she clear her schedule, but Hermione shook her head. "I'm afraid you all will have to go without me," she said. "I have plans with Umehito. Nekozawa, that is."

"Oh. Him," grumbled the twins.

"I see," said Ootori, pushing his glasses up his nose. There was a pause where perhaps there normally would have been a threat, but none came. Hermione smirked. She had one up on him officially, and unofficially she could threaten to quit whenever she wanted. He couldn't force her to do anything.

She knew how to deal with arrogant rich people, after all. He may be more of a challenge than Malfoy intellectually, but Malfoy had actually had something on her and they all knew it. If she'd been born a pureblood, she would still be a woman. If she'd been born a pureblood man, she still wouldn't have the money and influence that the Malfoys had. It was refreshing not to have to fight so hard whenever she wanted to do something that others didn't agree with.

When she looked up from her hands, tucking away a secret smile, she found every set of eyes on her. "I'm sorry?" she said. "What else needs to be discussed?" Like Halloween, perhaps. As a host, she would probably have to participate. She wasn't looking forward to it.

"Yes, there is," said Ootori, and the air felt normal again.