As normal I do not own.
Hermione woke up with a start just as the lamps begin to glow at full brightness signifying that it was time for her to start changing back into robes for the first time in almost two months. She groaned and began stretching and popping her joints as she reached into the overhead compartment to pull out her robes and easily made her way to the girl's bathroom to change. Once she'd changed Hermione left the cramped room and leisurely making her way back to her compartment, only pausing briefly to dodge past Malfoy's attempts to harass her.
"Oi, mudblood!" He shouted right by her ear as Hermione walked by. She flinched slightly but ignored him for the most part, "Mudblood!"
"I'm sorry, there is no one on the train that goes by the name of mudblood, but if I find them shall I leave a message?" Hermione retorted sharply. Malfoy stumbled on his words for a short while before snapping,
"Yeah, you can ask them where they were during the attack on the World Cup Finals."
"Well, Malfoy," Hermione began condescendingly, "When muggle families wish to go on holiday they go on this big incredibly safe contraption called and aeroplane and they fly away from the Magical World's bullshit for maybe a few weeks to cleanse themselves of pompous pureblooded bias before returning for another ten months. I would give you the location, however I may find myself kicked out of the Muggles Against Racist Misogynists Society."
Whoever was in the cabin across from the walkway began laughing and cheering Hermione's rather clever comeback. Malfoy once more began to stutter out a comeback.
"If that will be all I shall be taking my leave."
"My father will be hearing about this!" Malfoy shouted after her.
"And I'm the Queen of Russia." Hermione politely returned as she walked away.
Crookshanks chirped his greeting when Hermione re-entered the compartment and sat back down again. Rain began to lash down heavily against the window the closer they got to Hogsmeade. At about the thirty minute mark Hermione looked out and saw lightning crack through the clouds. Thoughts of the situation in Asgard floated through her mind, what was Loki's punishment? Was it good enough? Is there any chance of him escaping and making it back to his benefactor?
"Hermione the train's stopped." Harry told her.
"What?" She asked confused. She swore they were still a couple of miles away.
"Maybe the conductor didn't want to stay in the weather longer than normal and sped up the train for the last little part." Harry suggested.
"Who cares, I'm starving!" Ron interrupted, grabbing his bag and sliding open the compartment door a little too harshly. The loud crash caused Hermione to flinch and sit back in her seat before recovering and moving again.
As normal the trio made their way into the Great Hall by the self-pulling carriages along with Neville who employed a don't ask don't tell policy about the world cup and then New York. They did their best to dive into the Hall as quickly as possible however Peeves kept throwing water balloons in their direction. Hermione rubbed her throat from where Professor McGonagall grabbed her collar to stop herself from falling over in the puddles as she entered the hall and took a seat near to Nearly Headless Nick, chattering with Harry and Ron over New York and the Avengers. Ron as normal was clueless as Hermione did her best to explain the ins and outs of the Hulk.
"The best way to explain it would be to think of him as a werewolf. If the man behind him gets angry enough he turns into the Hulk and there's nothing he can do to make the Hulk behave other than to sit back and prepare for the worst when he can regain control." Hermione explained.
"Okay, non seasonal werewolf. I think I got it."
"Hiya Harry!" Chirped Colin Creevey, waving a hand frantically as he passed.
"Hello Colin." Hermione replied for Harry, noticing his sour mood and realising that he wasn't going to be up for talking with the constantly cheerful boy. Instead of talking Harry waved.
"Hello Hermione, guess what?"
"What Colin?"
"My brother is joining this year, my brother!" Colin exclaimed.
"His name's Dennis right? You told me when we were in the hospital after being petrified."
"I did. He wants to be in Gryffindor like me."
"Is he exited?" She asked.
"Really excited. He couldn't stop talking the whole ride here. I best find a seat then. See you guys!" Colin said, scurrying away from the trio and further to the front of the hall. Ron let out a sigh of relief and turned to Hermione.
"Has he ever not been cheerful?" He asked, Hermione huffed and rolled her eyes.
"Did you know it was now a crime to be so cheerful Harry?" She asked sarcastically.
"No I did not, Hermione. Obviously some of us are going to have to repress our natural behaviours around certain people." Harry joined in with equal amounts of sass.
"I'm just asking. And why is he so happy anyway? It's only his brother."
"It's incredibly exciting to find out that all the lightbulbs you've blown up in temper tantrums were caused by something most muggles to believe as a myth. It's even more exciting finding out your younger sibling is going to be joining you learning about magic! So yes, Colin being incredibly happy go lucky is perfectly natural as he now has someone he's related to share his experiences." Hermione explained.
"Hermione is it normal for siblings to be sorted into the same house?" Harry asked out of nowhere.
"I don't think so, I know Parvati's identical twin was sorted into Ravenclaw. I suppose it depends on reoccurring character traits." Hermione replied.
"So if Dennis is anything like Colin he'll be sorted into Gryffindor?" Harry implied.
"Exactly, because of how similar their personalities are the Hat will put them in the best place for them, which happens to be in Gryffindor. And besides, if Dennis is that desperate to get into Gryffindor the hat will take that into consideration and place him there."
"We've got no hope then. One Creevey was bad enough. Now there's going to be two?" Ron complained.
"You know that's how a lot of people felt when you and Ginny turned up back to back. It's not very nice is it?" Hermione returned, causing Harry to hide his remark about a burn behind a cough.
And don't get Hermione started on how many times the older Ravenclaws have hounded her to rein in Fred and George's behaviour when she's alone in the library.
Just then the doors swung open and the first years marched into the Hall, gawping and gasping at the ceiling above. The smallest, a boy with mousy blonde hair was someone more soaked than the others and swaddled in Hagrid's giant coat, he walked past the Gryffindor table and held up to thumbs to Colin and mouthed I fell in the lake! Before turning to face the sorting hat.
As normal, the Sorting Hat debuted its new song about the story of the founders and sorted the new kids into their homes for the next seven years. To no surprise Dennis was sorted into Gryffindor as well as a few more people that were eager to join the house. When the sorting was completed the dishes were conjured from thin air and Dumbledore rose to give his first words for the year.
"Tuck in."
Ron muttered under his breath, "About time," and dove in for the plate of chicken legs and piled a good number of the largest onto his plate while Harry and Hermione chose to go for the lighter options. Hogwarts wasn't perhaps the most diverse or accommodating places for food choices, but Hermione couldn't deny that what they did cook was good. Perhaps it was time to locate the kitchens to give some recommendations for a more diverse food choice.
An hour later, it was time for the trio to head up to the Gryffindor Common Room. They beat a majority of the bustle to get there by taking one of the shortcuts Harry had found on the map at the end of their third year and raised little attention to themselves whilst doing so. Harry and Ron did a play by play on the World Cup Final as they approached the Fat Lady.
"And then Krum caught the snitch! But by then Ireland had more points so the cup title went to them." Ron finished.
"Are you sure you're not in love with Viktor Krum?" Hermione asked jokingly.
"No!" Ron denied, "Can't a man appreciate and art form?"
Hermione turned to Harry and raised an eyebrow, "No I don't know much about art, but doesn't comparing a living being to art sort of suggest attractiveness to you?" She stage whispered.
"I have to agree with you Hermione." Harry whispered back. Ron's shoulders slumped with defeat as they entered the Gryffindor Common Room and Hermione split off from Harry and Ron into the girl's dormitories.
Hermione barely spoke two words to Lavender and Parvati as she unpacked her belongings from her trunk and set them in the correct places. Then Hermione changed into her pyjamas, brushed her teeth and climbed into bed and spent most of the night dreaming about New York.
The next morning Hermione was the first out of bed and ready only shortly after Harry was. Thankfully it was a Sunday, so Hermione had another day to go before putting her robes back on and starting the year again for good. Hermione quickly pulled her hair back into a loose ponytail as Ron trudged down the stairs wearing a signature Weasley jumper and frayed jeans. All three of them chattered as they made their way down to the Great Hall, only pausing as Ron filled his plate with bacon and sausages.
"You know one of these days the magical world is going to notice that a diet of fried meat and local grown foods isn't exactly good for their health." Hermione commented under her breath as she served herself a few pieces of toast and a small apple that didn't taste very nice.
"That would be the day. Have you seen Hedwig recently? She flew of almost as soon as we got here and she hasn't come back?" Harry replied.
"She could have gone hunting further out than the rest of the owls." Ron suggested between bites.
"Could be."
They continued breakfast in silence and not long after the post owls came in with their packages and letters from parents and other relatives. Hedwig came in the middle of the pack, carrying a few letters in her beak before landing on the spot in front of Hermione. The owl dropped the letters and pecked Harry's hand in demand for food.
"Where have you been?" Harry asked the owl. In return Hedwig hooted and pecked his hand again and gestured to the bacon with her head. Hermione gave in and pulled one of the smaller pieces free from the pile and placed it on the table in front of the owl.
Ron peeked at the letters and noticed that they were addressed to Hermione, "These are for you Hermione." He told her. She grabbed the letters and began analysing the handwriting. One was done on the computer and printed off, and the other was handwritten on simple notepaper. Hermione stood up and walked away from the table, wanting a little privacy before Ron came barging in and finding something out about SHIELD.
The printed letter was a note Stark (although it was JARVIS who actually wrote the letter due to the incredibly thorough grammar and punctuation throughout) had written begging for access to her old textbooks and any potion samples she could send so him and Doctor Banner could pick them apart for fun. Her handwritten letter was another story all together. She quickly dove into an alcove and opened the letter and carefully read through it.
Dear Hermione,
I know this seems most likely a strange and risky idea but would it be okay to communicate by letter? I'd feel more comfortable writing to someone who's in the same boat as me with sometimes feeling behind with modern technology that it. Not taking a nap in Greenland. I know that perhaps Hogwarts isn't the best place to be learning or just living in general. If future generations of the Malfoy family were like Abraxas- I would highly commend you, or rather anyone, for punching them in the nose.
They've moved me into a redbrick somewhere in Queens. It's not quite Brooklyn but the place is nice enough. Is it normal to see the brickwork on the inside? Is there some kind of industrial chic thing going on? Because it reminds me of the base we worked out of Manchester before the move to Hogwarts. I can work with the space, the neighbour not so much. She gapes a lot when I walk past, and plays a lot of music at odd hours of the night. Should I be worried about something?
By the way, is there any chance you know any decent art supply stores? I'm getting pretty tired of drawing with the pens in Stark's building.
Steve.
Hermione smiled, before quickly opening her back and pulling out a cream coloured notepad and a fountain before scribbling down her answer to his questions.
So, at least this year won't be as boring.
And finish!
Please review/favourite/follow
