I do not own.
Also, fixed the formatting issue I suffer from! Yay!
Onto the story,
Loki waited for the delightfully ignorant Lady Emerys to make her first move against the buffoons she calls her roommates. It had already been days since the incident that started it all; and the god had to listen to every rumour and lie that had spread throughout the castle like wildfire in order to get a better understanding of how Hogwarts worked. Apparently, the entire castle was ignorant to the fact that their very own Hermione Granger, was A: not in fact Hermione Granger at all, rather the child of the Black Widow and Hawkeye, and a spy herself to boot, and B: the wand wielding Avenger going by the codename Emerys, a name given to her by his idiot of an older (non-biological) brother, Thor.
Instead, they saw her as what they wanted to see. The Slytherins and the pureblooded bigots saw her as a filthy mudblood worth no more than the dirt on the bottom of their shoes. Her housemates saw her as nothing more than the brains to her friend's brawn; she did the research so they could save the day. Presently the other females of the castle wished to see a rather unattractive, if a little desperate, lovestruck teenager hellbent on making the Potter boy become hers at any expense. That was the cleverness of her little facade.
It was a shame really, he had to bring it all crashing down. But, needs must and all that.
The Emerys decided her revenge would occur after lessons for the day had finished, and the students were allowed to roam the castle halls until the dinner bell. Her red-haired oaf was somehow involved in her plan; as was the guise and blue lined robes of another student. It was then, Loki noticed, that Barton was impersonating the twin sister of her lead tormentor. Their hiding place in a corridor just off the one to the Hogwarts Library was for a reason, as they both clearly were waiting for someone else to walk by and see the two. And judging from how close the two were stood together, and how nervous the oaf looked to be in such a position; Barton was hoping to be caught in quite a scandal.
Or rather, the poor girl she was wearing the disguise of was. Loki had to pause to admire how cruel Barton could be if pushed far enough.
All three heard footsteps echo from the main corridor; more particularly a set of distinct, high pitched clicks from women's shoes that signaled for Barton and the oaf to move even closer together. So close in fact, that if it wasn't for the fact he knew that Barton was well versed in combat Loki would think the oaf was crushing her into the wall. And then, when a head of bottle blonde princess curls emerged into the entrance of the corridor, the oaf bent further down to whisper in Barton's ear.
The giggle that escaped Barton's mouth was airy and vapid, similar to that of the tavern wenches that flirted with Thor and Frandal. But Barton, knowing her audience on the other side of the corridor, took it a step further than the wenches and pulled the oaf down so that their lips met in a hard and bruising kiss.
The God watched as the oaf's eyes widened in surprise and then quickly leaned into the motions, wrapping his hands around Barton's waist at same time as she, wanting to make it as convincing as possible, stretched her arms up to his neck; thus, obscuring his face from view.
Then, he paid attention to the blonde the show was put on for. Her face fell in shock, surprised that the subject of her romantic desires was pursuing another girl. And her friend's twin sister at that! It made for a rather dramatic boiling up of tears; as the blonde slumped her shoulders down, wobbled her lower lip in an attempt to keep the tears from falling, before turning around on her heels and fleeing back the way she came.
As quickly as Barton and the oaf attached themselves together, they pulled apart; him stepping back by a few paces so he wasn't crowding the girl. Barton pulled off the blue piped robes and shoved them into the schoolbag lying at her feet whilst she changed back into looking like her "Hermione Granger" charade.
"Do you think it worked?" Asked the oaf, unable to wipe the dazed, starstruck look off his face. If you could see the things this mortal can do, you wouldn't be so happy about her stealing a kiss. Loki thought bitterly, watching as Barton picked up her bag and slung it over her shoulder.
"We'll find out soon enough," She responded curtly, reaching out to grab at one of the oaf's hands in a reassuring gesture, "you did really well; but it might take some time to convince her of what she's seeing."
"I've got no problems with the whole get back at Lav and Pav idea; but how did we know Padma wasn't on her way to the Library and passed Lavender when she was leaving, after seeing you as Padma kiss me? What if this blows up in our face?"
"It won't. Padma's already in the library with her sister and some other Ravenclaws for study group. They meet there straight after lessons each day and Lavender is always last to arrive on Thursdays because she stays behind in Divination to help Professor Trelawney pack away." Barton explained.
"How do you know this stuff?!" The oaf exclaimed in exasperated horror, as though Barton's creepy factoid was nothing too out of the ordinary for her to know.
Barton shrugged, "People are a lot like clockwork. And besides, the library is my domain. They creeped up on it after Harry got picked for the Tournament. I noticed," she reasoned. Before adding petulantly, "I want my table back."
The duo left the corridor, presumably back to their tower. That night, the curly haired blonde walked into the Hall at dinner and headed straight for the Indian girl on the table dedicated to the students wearing blue and bronze. "YOU BITCH!" She screeched, before raising a hand and slapping the other girl. Pandemonium erupted as the blue and bronze students went to console their classmate, the red and gold of Barton's housemates split themselves between applauding and holding the blonde back. As the teachers moved over to the area of the scuffle, in walked Barton; perfectly innocent with her dull brown hair and unremarkable facial features. She took a seat at the table next to her oaf and a black-haired boy that must be the Potter boy his informant was obsessed with beating.
"What's going on over there?" She asked.
"Lavender's gone and slapped Padma Patil over something. I'm not sure what though." Potter replied helpfully. Barton contented herself in serving herself some food from the spread in front of her as the two girls were dragged away to continue their spat in private.
"Oh dear, I hope that's not going to change things between Lavender and Parvati. It's awkward enough now." Barton stated, earning a sly look from the oath and a confused one from Potter.
"Well, here's hoping." The oaf chimed in.
.
.
.
The day of the First Task rolled around as a bright and sunny one. It glared harshly into Hermione's eyes as she watched Fleur Delacour, then Viktor Krum and Cedric Diggory take on their dragons and collect the prize nestled in with other actual eggs. As impressive (and nerve wracking) watching the three older students take on their foes was- the pit in her stomach still grew as Harry was announced to face the Hungarian Horntail.
"A Horntail?" Shouted Ron, "ARE YOU MAD?" Pointing the last comment towards the team of nervous looking dragon keepers waiting by the gate said Horntail had just come out of. More specifically, his older brother Charlie- whom Hermione could see hiding behind the others at the back, away from any keen-eyed watchers looking for signs of cheating with the dragons.
"At least they look nervous," Hermione remarked, watching as Harry also came out of a different tunnel, laughably small against the arena, "although to be fair to them the Chinese Fireball is now more endangered than it already was thanks to Viktor, so they have good reason to be, considering Harry's luck."
Ron wheezed and collapsed in his seat, "Didn't need the bloody reminder, Hermione."
She smirked, "I'm just saying, he's going to do something stupid, and dangerous, probably will get seriously hurt in the process," she then muttered under her breath, "hopefully he won't die, since Voldemort isn't here. And if he does die then I'm definitely unequipped to kill Voldemort nor resurrect Harry to also murder him for dying on me. And I'm mumbling- great."
Ron just looped a gangly arm over her shoulders and pulled her to his side, "I know, Mione. I know."
They watched as Harry and the dragon circled one another around the edges of the arena. His robes, made of thick, fireproof Kevlar and extra carbon fiber gauntlets Hermione managed to smuggle into his dorms early that morning came from Stark's offer of venturing into battle robes for both the Emerys suit, and then for the Tournament- (only after stealing her letters from her parents and Steve; responding with the box of armor delivered to her under a giant pile of books from Pepper) billowed and flapped in wind. "At least he looks cool," she added, before the dragon roared and made a break Harry.
All eyes turned to watch as Harry's eyes widened comically and he froze on the spot, gawping as the dragon roared again as it got closer and closer.
"Merlin's balls," breathed Ron, watching fearfully, whilst the grip he had around Hermione got tighter and tighter and she, slowly, was behind pushed so her face was about to be pressed against his side. Hermione shrugged his hold and grabbed his hands instead, wanting to watch- but still be able to support him.
"Do something you moron!" Hermione said, quietly.
"Um, Dracarys?" Said Harry, at the dragon. As though the command from a book would help anyone in his current situation.
Hermione was going to murder him when they got back to the castle.
.
.
.
Like any other time Gryffindor House won at something, there was a party to celebrate Harry's survival. Hermione found this a little hypocritical of pretty much everyone; but from the way her Housemates had already separated themselves by year, and then friendship group, she figured that the party was more for themselves to let loose than celebrating Harry's victory.
By the time Harry was allowed out of Madam Pomfrey's care said party was already in full swing, with all first and second years, and a majority of third being sent to bed so they didn't spoil any fun, or see something they shouldn't. Music was already blaring out of the radio shoved in the corner, providing a harsh and heavy beat for people to dance to. One table was loaded with bottles of butterbeer and somehow, firewhiskey. Hermione had her money on Fred and George having a hand in the snack table; so, she steered clear of trying anything until someone else (probably Neville) had turned themselves into a small furry animal, "You two enjoy the party for a little while, I'm going to put my coat away before coming down," She told Harry and Ron.
Ron's eyes lit up as he began to take his coat off, "Great idea Hermione. Can you take ours as well?" He asked. She scoffed at his selfish nerve and threw out her arms.
"Go on then, I guess I'll drop yours off too."
"Thanks Mione."
Harry also took off his outer robe and placed it on top of Ron's, smiling thankfully as Seamus, Neville and Dean began their approach, chanting Harry's name until they picked him up. Taking it as his chance to lord the golden dragon's egg above everyone, Harry raised it high above his head- hearing Gryffindor Tower scream the house down like it was the Quidditch Cup.
Hermione took her chance to escape to the dorms and drop off their coats, going first to hers and shoving both her coat, and Harry's robe into the false bottom of her trunk so Lavender and Parvati couldn't get to either of them. Then she went over to the Boy's Dorms and gently placed Ron's on his bed before straightening his pillows and then the unorganized pile of homework across his desk. She turned back to head down to the Common Room, but a flash of yellowed parchment spread across Harry's bed caught her eye.
What was the Marauder's Map doing open in the dorm? I thought this thing was supposed to be a giant secret? Hermione thought, as she pulled out her wand ready to close it for Harry. But there was something strange happening on the balcony. "What the hell?" Hermione asked herself, before running back to her dorm and grabbing Harry's robe. He wouldn't mind at all if she borrowed it.
.
.
.
It didn't take Harry and Ron very long for either of them to lose the other without Hermione's uncanny ability to keep the two together, Ron had become swept up in talking to his brothers and Ginny, and Harry was trying very hard to not get cornered by Lavender- who hadn't taken Ron and Padma's kiss very well and was trying to get back at her former friend by trying to kiss Harry.
Harry, quite luckily, had managed to bid his escape and make his way to their pre-agreed hiding spot in their balcony. He was shivering from the cold as soon as he got there, now regretting giving Hermione his coat as he approached the firepit his best friend managed to set up and keep burning even through torrential downpours. Hermione was leaning over the balcony, looking out over the Forbidden Forest; she'd somehow managed to change in the time it took her to drop their coats off. But she was wearing something strange- when did Hermione own blue leather trousers?
"I didn't realize how cold it was until I came outside, but I suppose being near dragons earlier doesn't help," Harry tried to joke with his friend. Hermione paid little attention and only hummed in agreement,
"I suppose you don't notice a lot of things, do you? Being so absorbed in your own little world and heroics." She mused.
There was something wrong with Hermione's voice. It was too smooth, too clear. The Hermione he just saw walk to the boy's dorm sometimes spoke with a slight American accent when she was angry or hadn't said anything in a while. The one in front of him spoke like she'd walked right out of one of Aunt Petunia's favourite period dramas. This wasn't Hermione, he realized; but he kept it to himself until the real one would inevitably arrive.
"What in Merlin's name are you on about? And stop it with the voice, it doesn't suit you."
Not-Hermione laughed and turned around, "Of course it doesn't suit me, not a lot of things do," she walked forwards, and Harry spotted how certain things were off with her physical appearance' her hair wasn't wild enough, nor was it the wrong shade of dull brown. And her eyes; they were menacing and crazed, rather than intelligent and thinking. There wasn't a permanent frown line set in between her brows, neither was the posture. His Hermione walked like she was always two steps away from taking off in a sprint, this one had a confident swagger to it, "boring bookworm being one of them."
Harry pulled out his wand and held it behind his leg, "You've never just been a boring bookworm Hermione."
"Thank you, Harry, but things are going to be different now. I'm going to tell you a little secret, one I don't want you telling anyone else about."
Something was seriously wrong, when did Not-Hermione sign up for the school for giving villainous monologues? And when could she do that creepy thing with her voice that's both alarming and strangely arousing? Harry shrugged as she made her approach and stood in front of him, "Is it that you're not actually Hermione? Because I've got to say, you're doing a terrible impersonation."
Not-Hermione rolled her eyes and lashed out, knocking his wand out his hand with a flick of her wrist and then throwing him over to the back wall, "Clever," She said, stalking over "but not quite enough, I think."
He groaned, feeling blood start to pour out of the claw marks gouged into his back from getting too close to the dragon earlier. Not-Hermione then pulled a wicked looking spear from the air and presented it, "Beautiful, isn't it?" She said, holding up so that the eerie blue light illuminated her face, "I used this in the Battle of New York, closing the portal so no more Chitauri could wreak devastation on New York."
Harry cocked his head, didn't Emerys do that? "I thought you killed an alien with a fire extinguisher?" He said.
Not-Hermione cackled, "Oh Hadrian, I never did that. I control fire, not put it out."
Oh.
Oh dear.
Not-Hermione is trying to insinuate that the actual Hermione is Emerys. But that can't possibly be true. How would she have been recruited to go?
"Harry, mate. Are you up here? Dean and Seamus are dying to find out what's in that egg. Can't do that without you." Called out Ron, climbing up the stairs at a leisurely pace. Not-Hermione's eyes gleamed with joy as she stepped back from Harry and moved so she could stand behind one of the chairs, hiding the spear from Ron.
"Oh good. More company. I love a good show, don't you? Makes for more fun."
Harry paled as Ron finally came out onto the balcony, greeting Hermione with a surprised sound squashed at the back of his mouth, "Hey mate, everyone is asking for you," Ron greeted, before turning his head to look at him, "What in Merlin's name?"
"THAT'S NOT HERMIONE, RON! YOU'VE GOT TO RUN! ITS NOT HER!" Harry yelled at Ron.
Not-Hermione only rolled her eyes and hefted the spear into view of Ron, before shifting the pointed end over to Harry and holding it like it was a gun, "I would really think about your next steps very carefully, Ronald. You don't want the Boy-Who-Lived dying now, would we?"
Ron's face grew red, "What have you done with her?" He asked, voice low and trembling with rage. He too, could see that the Hermione in front of him wasn't the real one. He began to slowly walk forwards on silent feet, gradually moving closer and closer into the light created by the fire as the person in front of them continued her manic spiel.
Not-Hermione smiled, "Me? Oh- nothing yet. Although that might change once she turns up looking for you two. Let's see, shall I throw her off the balcony? Stab her in the heart? Oh- maybe through the temple, ruin that brain of hers you both love so much," then she looked down at the glowing blue stone, "actually, maybe I'll make her kill the two of you, and then herself! That way no one survives!"
"You're mad," Ron spat, now standing so he was next to the fire pit, only a few metres away from Not-Hermione, "who are you? What do you want from us?"
There was a flash of green light and Not-Hermione turned into a tall man with long, jet black hair. He wore dark green robes that were unfamiliar to them both. "I am Loki of Asgard. And I want to watch Hermione Barton's world burn!"
Ta Daa!
My reason for not actually including the First Task in detail is because if I did that, I would have spent about a year actually working on the chapter, rather than the five or so months it took to write this one. We all know what happens anyway, and I'd like to think a Hermione who has seen Tony Stark fly through a Leviathan/Whale Worm and blowing it up is probably not very impressed by Harry and his Wronski Feint. Especially after making a Game of Thrones reference in the middle of a life and death situation.
In terms of how Harry immediately knew someone (Loki) was pretending to be Hermione- I'd like to think that Hermione (As Granger, not Barton) would be a very hard person to imitate. Loki has only seen her as red haired, blue eyed Hermione in person and up close, and brown hair and eyed in pictures or very briefly from the side hiding around corners or in reflections. With her ability to change her appearance, I could imagine she took a page out of Phil Coulson's book and made Hermione Granger be as plain and unassuming as possible. The girl with buck teeth- a highly trained and lethal spy? Impossible I say- impossible! And again, given her ability to change her appearance at will, I personally like to think Hermione and her parents, as well as Fury and Maria Hill deliberately chose a face that would be difficult for others to copy in the way she does- and be so distinct that it would be picked up on facial recognition really quickly if anyone actually was impersonating her.
In regards to her accent, I don't really think I ever made it explicit whether it was British or American starting this story at fourteen. I think back then I heard her switch between the two, American in the summer, British at Hogwarts or in the magical world. As an eighteen-year-old, with a far better grasp on how accents actually work, and how hard it can be sometimes getting into the swing of it- I now imagine Hermione to mostly be British, but occasionally slip into an American one when its first thing in a morning, or she's really emotional or uptight about something. I think Harry would have absolutely picked up on it, since he has at least some exposure to what an American accent sounds like listening to the TV or radio whilst at the Dursleys; but probably assumed that she either spent a lot of time over there, or was close to a relative who happens to be American and it influenced her. Ron on the other hand, would have most likely put it down to her being muggleborn, and just not questioned it. I'm not an authority on this subject; but for the most part Hermione is pretending to be someone she isn't- and she will occasionally slip up and stumble over certain vowel sounds. Especially as a fifteen year old girl who can only keep up with vocal coaching three months of the year.
That being said, taking four years to actually get to the main part of the story is a little annoying, even for the person writing it. Soon, I tell you. Soon.
So expect it in about six months- knowing me and my commitment issues.
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