Heimdall, the golden watcher, entered Odin's opulent throne room, large sword held firmly in his hands. His golden eyes roamed over the room, as they always did when he entered a space, before settling on the sitting King of Asgard. Odin held Gungnir close to him, head tilted slightly up, similar to the way Loki held himself. It was a quiet authority, one that was firm and tight. In contrast to Loki and Odin, Thor definitely held himself with more of a swagger. There was nothing subtle about it.

Heimdall knew exactly why he was here, too. It was to do with Loki and his continued absence from Asgard in the weeks leading up to Thor's coronation. Odin would want to know where his son was, and when he was planning to come back to Asgard.

He bowed deeply, sword planted in a groove in the floor. He rose again, before speaking. "You summoned me, Your Majesty."

Odin raised his head slightly. "Indeed. Now, down to business. Where exactly is my son Loki?"

"Midgard, specifically the small country called England." Odin's eyes widened an infinitesimal amount. Midgard was the last place he expected Loki to be. Why would he go there? Then again, Loki had always been a strange one, so he wasn't going to question his youngest son's antics. Best to just let him have his little adventures; they were nothing to the lifespan of an Asgardian. Usually, he would let Loki stay longer, as long as he wished, but with the coronation of Thor rapidly approaching, Loki was required back in the palace.

"I see," Odin said, eyebrow raised. "No matter. He knows that he is to be back here in three days, correct?" Heimdall made a noise of assent. "Good. If he doesn't call you by the third day, you will forcibly return him to Asgard. Understood? No matter what he is doing on Midgard. And if he tries to go back, don't let him use the Bifrost. I'm not letting that happen again."

"Of course, Your Majesty." Odin nodded his head, fingers tapping on the arm of his throne.

"You may now return to your post, Heimdall," said Odin bluntly. Heimdall bowed once again, before turning and striding back towards the Bifrost. There was a feeling of trepidation deep inside his gut though. He couldn't push back the feeling that Loki would have to be forcibly removed from Midgard. With the friendship he had developed with this Hermione Granger, it wouldn't be a surprise, not at all.

Sighing in resignation, Heimdall prepared himself for one hell of a fight when he returned Loki to Asgard.

After four days of sitting in the same seat, Loki was beginning to ache all over. It began as a small knot in the base of his back, before rapidly spreading all over his body. He couldn't move his neck without a painful twinge. It was pitiful, really, that the first thing to really harm him on Midgard was a lightly padded seat. He would much rather it be a rogue wizard, or maybe even Hermione cutting into him with her splendiferous vocabulary.

Anything other than a chair.

He slowly turned his aching neck to the right, turning his gaze down onto the softly slumbering figure of Hermione Granger. After using the spell, a stupid, unsafe move that realistically should have killed her, she fell into an incredibly deep sleep. The only thing he could think of deeper than it was the Odinsleep. He couldn't help his traitorous thoughts from badgering him about the terrible possibility she may never wake. He wasn't sure how he would feel then. Of course she would wake. She was Hermione.

Hermione never gave up, he knew that much.

Her hand, colder than usual, rested inside Loki's. With his thumb, he constantly rubbed gentle circle on the back of hers. It was a small motion that brought his inner turmoil just a little bit of calm.

He still couldn't believe that she thought overpowering an Asgardian spell was the best way to disable the enemies. Of course, it did work. Marvelously, in fact. All of their enemies inside a large area were temporarily blinded. The ones who were closest to Hermione when she cast the spell were actually permanently blinded, though Loki wasn't about to tell her that. When the Aurors arrived, it was to find all of their enemies unable to see, making it a ridiculously easy mass arrest. That still didn't excuse the fact that she didn't put her own safety first. He didn't know what would happen if he lost her.

When these thoughts first filtered through his mind, Loki found himself shocked. Never before in his long lifespan had he ever felt fear of losing someone. Previously, he laughed at anyone who was scared of losing someone close to them, taunting them about their uncontrollable weakness. Now that he was friends with Hermione, though, his entire opinion changed. It could still certainly be called a weakness, of sorts, but it was a weakness he was willing to have, if it meant he was able to keep his one true friend.

Now, after four days of sitting constantly by Hermione's bedside, the thoughts were normal. It was strange how quickly his life changed after he met this endearing woman in a Midgardian library. He wasn't about to question it, though.

Loud footsteps, along with a very familiar enraged voice, reached his ears. Loki had to stop himself from groaning. Almost every day, a middle aged woman, named Miranda O'Brian, who worked with Hermione, barged in and demanded that he get away from her. Apparently, anyone who she didn't know wasn't worthy of her 'protege's' attention. The funny thing was, Hermione hadn't once mentioned this woman. Loki would never understand why she thought she was in charge of who was able to visit Hermione.

So, he prepared himself for the daily verbal spar, which always ended with O'Brian storming out in a huff, muttering obscenities under her breath.

The curtains were torn back, the metal rings clinking together. O'Brian, with her lank, greying hair and sharp nose, burst in on him. Next to her was a frantic nurse, desperately trying to calm the furious woman down, though to no avail.

"You need to stop following me, girl," O'Brian sneered at the nurse, who looked to be on the verge of tears. Loki couldn't help but feel slightly sorry for her, another foreign feeling. "I am allowed to be up here." The nurse made to make a reply. Unfortunately, O'Brian was too quick, though. She clamped her hand down over the nurse's mouth, preventing anything more than a muffled squeak from worming past. "Not another word from you."

"Good to see you again, Miranda," said Loki, voice dripping with sarcasm. "I see that today you've decided to take your frustrations out on this lovely woman here." He smiled charmingly at the muffled nurse. "Let her go. You're doing no one any good." He didn't move from his seat, Hermione's hand still clasped in his own.

O'Brian removed her hand from the traumatised nurse's face. The nurse promptly fled. Loki watched with dull fascination as she stalked towards him, sticking an accusing finger right up in his face. He didn't bat an eye. He knew that her type of people, close minded nitwits who thrived off the misery of others, wanted a reaction. He wasn't going to give her one. Not a chance.

"You," she growled, "need to leave."

"Any new arguments you've come up with since last time would be appreciated. I'm not going to listen to the same empty threats all over again." His voice was bored. Loki wanted nothing more for this annoying gnat to vacate his presence. He found over the past few days that being totally uninterested in her tirade was a very effective way to rid himself of her.

"I don't even know you. How am I supposed to know that you know her? You could just be trying to exploit her for her fame." O'Brian's cheeks were becoming an ugly shade of puce. She was beginning to match her jacket.

Loki couldn't help a dry chuckle. "If there is anyone who is trying to exploit her for her fame, it's you."

"Now, both of us know that isn't true."

This time, Loki reacted.

He abruptly stood. Hermione's cold hand fell out of his own. With threatening steps, he strode towards her, forcing her back towards the curtain that she yanked open earlier. "Now that, that is where I draw the line." His voice was low and dangerous. The voice of someone who was in charge. "Don't you dare try and tell me that I am exploiting my closest friend. You know very well it isn't true. Now, before I do something I regret, get out." The last word was hissed. O'Brian seemed stumped for a minute before, smirking.

"Hermione doesn't make friends with people like you, Loki," she sneered. Her face was proud, like she was finally holding the trump card in her hands.

"Actually," came a soft voice from behind them, "I do make friends with people like Loki, Miranda." Loki wheeled around and saw a feeble Hermione hauling herself up to a sitting position, eyes still pressed shut. She was shaking slightly. A tidal wave of relief rushed through Loki. She was awake, at last. "Please, leave."

"But, Hermione," spluttered O'Brian.

"Now."

Muttering under her breath, O'Brian stomped out of the small, curtained area, not even bothering to shut the curtain on her way out. With a small flick of his wrist, Loki made them snap shut. He then rushed back to his seat, swiveling it around so he faced Hermione.

"Thank Odin you're awake," he said. "I thought you were going to slumber forever."

"Oh, you know me," smiled Hermione. "Never one to give up." At that moment, though, her limbs did give up on her. She fell back down into a lying position, shaking slightly. Loki knew that she was feeling the terrifying effects of her magic being completely absent from her body. A core piece of her was missing.

"Take it easy, now. You've got plenty of time, and your friends are willing to wait for you. Harry's visiting later today, actually." At the mention of her friends, Hermione's eyes suddenly opened, impossibly wide. She groaned at the pain of the light attacking her eyes, though refused to screw them shut again. She turned towards Loki, urgency colouring her voice.

"Tell me that Ron is okay. Please, tell me he is alright." Loki glanced down at her, about to reply. He couldn't, though, when he saw her eyes. Instead of her warm, brown colour, they now shone a brilliant silver, brighter than even the blades of his daggers. Logically, Loki knew that it was a side effect of the Asgardian magic being used by a Midgardian. It still didn't stop him from being shocked, though. It completely changed the way she looked.

"Your eyes, Hermione."

"I don't care what's happened to my eyes, Loki. I know something has, I can feel it." Her voice turned to steel. "Tell me. Is Ron okay?" Loki guiltily glanced down at his feet.

"It isn't my place to tell you."

"Oh, it isn't your place, is it?" scoffed Hermione, desperately trying to support her body with quaking limbs. "Well if it isn't your place, then you better bloody well take me to see him, right now." Clumsily, she tore the sheets out from over her legs and tried to get out of the bed. Sighing, Loki reached down and picked Hermione up. She squeaked in an undignified manner, weakly clasping her hands around Loki's neck. He could see her scowling at him for picking her up. There was no way he was letting her walk anywhere with her limbs not even strong enough to support her standing up. He ignored her annoyed grumbles, chuckling slightly.

"You're not walking anywhere in that state."

"I didn't know you were such a mother hen, Loki." He dourly scowled at her. There was that acerbic wit he had missed.

Being careful to walk in such a way that Hermione wouldn't fall and his aching limbs wouldn't be agonised even further, he slowly made his way down the wing of the infirmary. Ron was being kept in a ward three down from Hermione's. He didn't know why she wasn't placed with him. Maybe is was because of the differences in their injuries? He didn't know.

"Why can't you tell me?" queried Hermione quietly. Even though she tried to hide it, Loki could hear the fear in her voice. He himself wasn't sure exactly what had happened to Ron. All he knew was that it was bad. Not totally detrimental, but bad.

"It's just best for you to find out from someone else. Someone closer to Ron."

"You're acting strange." It was a statement, not a question.

"Well, that does tend to happen when your closest friend stupidly decides to use a spell in the wrong way and then falls into a sleep for four days. Ah, here we are." Hermione, with her strange new silver eyes, didn't seem to quite digest the fact that she was out for four days. She didn't say anything about it though.

Awkwardly, Loki tried to pry the door open. Hermione's entire body was in the way, though. She hopped down out of his arms, latching onto his elbow and leaning heavily on him. He sent a glance of disapproval at her, though reached for the door handle. It swung open and they entered the room.

There was only one bed in the small ward. Only Mrs. Weasley was sitting by his bedside, the rest of the usual entourage, including Ron's wife and children, otherwise occupied. Loki knew they would be visiting soon, though. From what little he knew of the Weasleys, family was of utmost importance to them. The small table next to the bed where Ron was lying was piled high with cards and various types of sweets, just like Hermione's table. A symbol of goodwill, he had learned when the first one was delivered to Hermione and the person dropping it off had sensed his total bewilderment. It didn't help that the ethereal, wispy woman with impossibly long hair gave Hermione a mango of all things.

In the middle of the bed, Ron's lanky figure was covered by white sheets. A black blindfold was wrapped around his face and Loki could just make out the white tips of bandages peeking out from under his shirt. He must be worse than he initially realised. Good thing he wasn't the one to tell Hermione about what happened to him. He wasn't sure how she would react, though from what he knew of her, she would either go into complete denial or start clucking like a chicken and faint. He wasn't sure which one her would prefer to happen to her, honestly.

Hermione, leaning on Loki for support, felt a pang of fear rocket through her. Ahead, Ron was lying motionless on a bed, chest rising and falling steadily. From what she could see, and she could see remarkably well, he was awake, though not doing well. She couldn't find a reason for the blindfold to be there, though. Had something happened to his eyes? Was there a spell that caught him in his face? What could it possibly be?

"Hermione, dear," said Mrs. Weasley warmly, welcoming her back. She seemed happy. Well, as happy as you could be when your son is teetering on the border of life and death in front of your very eyes. Hermione didn't know how she knew this. It was just an instinctive feeling.

"Molly," she said softly. She could barely make herself say something else. The atmosphere in the room was heavy, like a fat raincloud was hovering over everyone's heads, just waiting for the opportunity to burst and start pouring down on them.

Loki conjured a seat for her, not saying anything. He really was acting strangely. Well, more strange than he already usually was. Gratefully, she sat down in it, giving her trembling limbs a much needed break.

A healer somberly walked into the room, face set in a frown. Mrs. Weasley rushed over to him, wringing her hands on her skirt.

"Healer Bradbury, please tell me there is good news," Mrs. Weasley begged. It was a stark contrast to her previously sunny demeanour. Hermione gripped the thin arms of the chair tighter. Fear began to rise in her stomach. Just what had happened to Ron?

Healer Bradbury sighed heavily. "Unfortunately, I can't give you that." Everyone in the ward wilted, including Ron, who up until that point remained silent.

"Bugger."

"Bugger indeed, Mr. Weasley," said Healer Bradbury. "I'm so sorry, we have tried everything we can to save it."

"I believe you," said Ron, his voice hitching slightly. "Well, I guess that I'm just going to have to get used to living like this, now." Healer Bradbury slowly walked forward, reaching down and removing the blindfold from Ron's face. Underneath it, his eyes were shut.

"What can't you save?" Hermione asked desperately. "What happened?" Despite Loki's firm hand on her shoulder, she stood and hastily staggered over to Ron's bedside. He turned his head towards her, eyebrows furrowed.

Then he opened his eyes.

Instead of his usual brilliant, electric blue eyes, milky pupils gazed blankly back at her. Hermione gasped, tears beginning to form in her own eyes. This couldn't be happening. Not here, not now. His irises were grey and lifeless, seeing nothing. Nothing at all. It was gone. Just...gone.

"Your sight. They couldn't save your sight." Numbness began to creep over her. She knew how this had happened. She knew that it was her own doing that caused Ron to go blind.

Before her thoughts could spiral out of control, Ron's hand shot forwards and latched onto her wrist with surprising accuracy.

"And it isn't your fault."

She couldn't bring herself to look at the blank eyes of her best friend, so she looked at the wall. Sadly, Ron seemed to sense this, deflating a little bit. His grip slackened just slightly. Inside, Hermione knew that she couldn't have known she would completely blind Ron. She even performed the counter spell, so she couldn't know how it came to be. Didn't know why it had to happen. Regret began to consume her, eating away at her resolve impossibly quickly.

"Ron," she pleaded. "I cast the spell. I caused you to lose your sight."

"No, you reversed the spell. It may have been a side effect of this nasty one here." Wincing, Ron gestured at his bandaged torso. His faced screwed up in pain. "We're still trying to figure out what caused it."

Hermione scowled at him, a watery smile dancing on her lips. Ever since the war, Ron had become such a forgiving person. Sure, there was still the occasional streak of jealousy, just like every person was prone to. But overall, there was a dramatic shift in his attitude. As he had told her while they were still a couple, 'There are more important things than getting jealous over petty differences.' It was such a stark contrast to how he was during their first few years at Hogwarts.

And now, here he was, blinded for the rest of his life, telling her that he would be okay. That is wasn't her fault. How could he be strong enough to do that? Normally, people would become bitter, blaming another person. But he wasn't. That alone was incredible.

A lone tear escaped down her cheek, lips trembling. No matter what Ron said, she brought this upon him. She was the reason his life was forever changed, for the worse. She was the reason he would never see light again. Never see the face of his little girl, with her tiny little gap tooth. He would never know what his baby son would grow up to look like. He would never see their cheeky, gorgeous, innocent smiles ever again. He would never gaze upon the face of his wife again, with her dark brown eyes and smattering of freckles.

"There is no other explanation, Ron. It was me. You know that. My reversal spell must not have been strong enough. I'm sorry, I'm so, so sorry." She began sobbing, still unable to look at Ron's sightless eyes. The crisp white sheets of the hospital bed were clenched tight in her hands, which were clenching and unclenching. Without realising it, she was almost bent over double, body heaving with her crying.

"Hermione," said Loki gently, putting a comforting hand on her shoulder. "It isn't your fault. You can't go around blaming yourself for something that is out of your control." She turned bloodshot silver eyes towards him, eyelashes clumped together with tears. Her head was shaking side to side in denial.

"It was in my control, Loki. I..." Her sorrow became to great that she couldn't speak, just sit in the chair, with her head in her hands, terrifying thoughts running through her head.

"'Mione, I may not know Loki well, but he is telling the truth." Ron's voice was hoarse with disuse. Hermione didn't know how she hadn't noticed it before. "If you're not going to listen to me, at least listen to him. Please, don't feel pity for me. I'm still alive. Isn't that enough?"

"It shouldn't have to be 'just enough.' You should be able to see. What about your family?"

"I'll still have them. Just because I can't see them doesn't mean our relationship will get any weaker." He smiled at the thought of his wife, Chloe, and his children, Maria and Aaron. "If anything, our bond with become stronger." Ron shifted, grimacing in pain. "Look, Hermione, you can do two things. You can wallow and let yourself be consumed by what you think is failure, or you can think about how many lives you saved with that one trick you had up your sleeve. Thanks to you, the Aurors were able to get in, arrest almost every Gardner there and get a major lead on their leader."

Hermione faltered. "Gardners?"

"Yeah, that's what they're calling themselves. Apparently, they want to 'garden a better future' for the rest of the world. Bit of a lame name, isn't it?"

"You could say that," muttered Loki. Hermione wiped her eyes, reigning in her weeping. Maybe it was better to look at the positive side of things.

"And, the healers are going to teach me a way to 'see' with my magic," added Ron. "Apparently, once I learn it, I'll be able to see outlines of people and things, so I won't be totally helpless. They also said that if I master it completely, I will be able to go back to work as an Auror. How great is that?"

Hermione choked in both disbelief and relief. He wouldn't be totally blind. He would still see, in a way. Now that he mentioned it, she remembered reading about the process somewhere, about how a few years ago it was perfected and put into use for people who were newly blinded. Ron would still be able to see, in a way. Just differently from everyone else. The guilt, as it was still stifling her, began to slowly disappate, leaving only a large puddle where there was previously a lake.

Before she could say anything more, though, her limbs began trembling again, as a state of extreme tiredness overtook her. Just before she slumped back in her chair, unconscious, she saw Ron smiling in her general direction and giving a playful thumbs up. Then sleep claimed her as its own and she fell into a blissful, guiltless sleep.

Three days later, Hermione and Loki sat side by side on an old, peeling park bench. Above them, the leaves of a spring oak whispered slightly, a small breeze weaving its way through. The light from the sun, filtering through the oak, was clean and dappled, casting interesting shadows over their faces. The bench was on the edge of a field, a gravel path separating the two.

Two days ago, Hermione was cleared to go home from St. Mungo's, as long as she took great care and didn't over exert herself. She was forbidden from using magic for three weeks, which honestly wasn't a problem for her. She didn't use it for every little task and difficulty like some members of the Wizarding community. This was partly due to her upbringing in a Muggle household and partly due to the fact that she didn't want to learn to rely on her magic. If there was one thing that the Second Wizarding War taught her, it was that you couldn't rely on just your magic. If you had another tool or ability up your sleeve, it gave you a great advantage that may just win you the battle.

Loki, the idiot that he was, acted horrified at the very concept of going without magic for a couple of weeks. On their way out of St. Mungo's, Hermione lightly leaning on him for support, he kept whinging and whining, never ceasing. He only stopped when Hermione threatened to turn him into a frog and give him to a high school to dissect, laughing at her threat.

With time to dwell on what happened to Ron, Hermione came to the conclusion that even though she was responsible for it, there was no denying that, the results of the spell were out of her control. No matter what Ron and the Healers of St. Mungos said, she knew it was her doing that blinded Ron, though unintentionally. After letting the light spell loose, her magic was frayed, split down the middle and chopped into little cubes, before being smashed until there was practically nothing left. To even be able to reverse the spells was a miracle in itself. And she passed out before being able to reverse the spell fully on Ron, as she'd done with Loki and Harry.

She was still coming to peace with her actions. It would take a long time to fully settle with it, to not feel guilt when she thought of Ron and the battle of Totnes. After all her thoughts, the dark feelings that settled in her gut fled, leaving her feeling lighter than the day she found out.

So, as per Ron's request when she last saw him, she was focusing on getting herself better, not wallowing in a lake of self inflicted guilt. At first, she wanted to stay home and return to work on her assignment for work, which was nearly finished. She didn't even make it to her desk. The second she even mentioned it, Loki had picked her up and plopped her unceremoniously down on the couch, stating that until she was fully better, she wouldn't even be looking at the assignment. According to him, she didn't need the extra stress added to her recovery. So, she was left playing chess, reading recreationally and failing miserably at trying to make a souffle.

Another thing she was trying to come to terms with was the strange silver colour of her eyes. Loki had explained it as a side effect of her using the light spell. She learned that with his brand of magic, if you over powered a spell, it could alter your physical appearance. It seemed logical enough, but the brightness of them was almost disconcerting. It was like they were almost glowing. It wouldn't surprise her if they started emitting light, though she knew they wouldn't do that. Hermione had to admit, though, they did look very exotic, and suited her in a strange way. All in all, it could be a lot worse than her eyes changing colour.

After two days in her flat, she could slowly feel herself going stir crazy, so Loki suggested an outing to the park where she thought he was a reporter. Hermione had jumped at the idea.

Now, they were just sitting in a comfortable silence, basking in the relative peace. Well, as peaceful as the park could be with a soccer team full of seven year old tearing up the field in front of them, with a middle aged coach desperately trying to wrangle them in. It was an amusing sight, one that kept Loki occupied for a small amount of time, before his guilty conscience wrestled its way to the forefront of his mind, reminding him of what was going to happen today.

Today was the last day he was going to be spending on Midgard for a long while. Very soon, the Bifrost would beam down and engulf him, transporting him back to Asgard whether he liked it or not. He wasn't about to call Heimdall, as he wanted to get every last second that he could with Hermione. If it came to a tearful goodbye, then that would leave him devastated, no matter how little he liked the prospect of that feeling. Loki was fast coming to realise that he didn't like the idea of goodbye. Not one bit.

Loki knew that after Thor's coronation and the ensuing celebrations, he would be returning to Midgard. As much as it pained him to admit it, Hermione's lifespan was nothing compared to him. Odin wouldn't mind if he spent the better part of a century down on Midgard with Hermione. Those years would be nothing but a blip in the radar for his lifespan. For a while, he had entertained the idea of revealing his true identity to her and asking her if she would like to eat the Apple of Idunn, to join the ranks of the Asgardians. His thoughts were stopped short by one blaring barrier: Odin Borson, King of Asgard, who would never let a mortal step foot in their realm. He also realised that Hermione's life on Midgard meant too much to her. He decided that he was going to enjoy his time with her on Midgard and leave it at that.

"You know, I've never said thank you," Hermione said suddenly.

Loki arched an eyebrow, shifting to face her slightly. "Whatever for?" He was slightly puzzled at her outburst, if it could even be counted as that.

Hermione made a dismissive hand gesture. "Not much. Just, you know, being a friend. Do you know how hard it is to make friends when everyone knows your name and wants a piece of your fame? It's extremely difficult."

"Don't I know it," Loki muttered under his breath, so low Hermione didn't hear him. Raising the volume, he said, "Well, you were so easy to make friends with. How could I not?"

"Oh, you're such a sap." Hermione playfully hit his shoulder.

"I beg to differ, Miss Granger."

"So we're going with last names, now? You're so lucky I don't know yours, because if I did, you would be losing this battle." She crossed her arms and turned her face away from Loki with faux arrogance. He sniggered slightly. She would never fail to amuse him.

"I highly doubt that." Hermione sharply snapped her head around, glaring at him. He chuckled, then quickly shielded himself with his arms as Hermione began a frenzied slap attack against him.

Suddenly, just as Loki was about to launch a counterattack, rainbow lights shot down to the surface of the Earth and engulfed Loki, along with Hermione. Instantly, he was being sucked upwards, towards the Bifrost of Asgard. Every time he traveled through the Bifrost, it made him feel like he was free falling in reverse. But Loki wasn't focusing on that.

Hermione, flying next to him, was screaming in shock, eyes as wide as they could go. He couldn't blame her, honestly. He didn't know what he could do to calm her down. Soon, they would land on Asgard, where Hermione would immediately be sent back to Midgard, no matter what. Fury began to overtake him. Who did Heimdall think he was, transporting Hermione to Asgard as well? Couldn't he have waited for a time where he was alone to activate the Bifrost? No, apparently he couldn't.

Loki was unceremoniously spat out onto the floor of the Bifrost sphere, too occupied with his own thoughts to be bothered landing. Next to him, Hermione landed with a dull thump, her screaming being cut off as she realised she wasn't 'flying' anymore. Loki saw her look up and lock her gaze on the golden palace of Asgard, mouth falling open with complete shock, along with a healthy dose of disbelief.

"What the He―" The Bifrost activated again, whirring back to life as the rainbow lights took Hermione back to Midgard.

And just like that, she was gone.

Loki felt a lone tear escape his left eye as he stared at the spot where she was previously lying, before hauling himself to his feet and whirling around to meet Heimdall face to face. Rage took over his every feature, as hurt stampeded through him, accompanied by an aching sensation of loss, unfamiliar to anything Loki had ever felt before. Oh, he'd known that it was going to 'hurt like a bitch' as Midgardians said, but never had he anticipated how it would feel. How much it would consume him.

And without saying anything, knowing that Heimdall was ordered to do as he did by none other than Odin, Loki stormed past the golden watcher and towards the gleaming golden palace of Asgard. Odin would never know what was coming to him.

Hermione slammed back into the grassy ground of the park in the middle of London, still screaming from shock. When she noticed she was no longer in the middle of an impossibly bright tunnel, she cut it off. Strangely enough, the ground around her was etched with scorching runes, trails of smoke twisting off into the bright sky. She couldn't believe what had just happened. What she just realised.

The rainbow tunnel she had just been in could be nothing other than the Bifrost. In all mythology, there was nothing like it, nothing for it to be compared to. And if that was the Bifrost, then the magnificent golden structure she'd just seen was the legendary palace of Asgard. Without making too many leaps of logic, Hermione also realised that one of her three closest friends, was a prince of Asgard.

Loki was...the actual Loki.

Laughing bitterly in disbelief, Hermione staggered to her feet and collapsed on the park bench where she was sitting previously. Her thoughts were a complete jumbled mess. But, through all of it, one thing was clear.

Hermione was going to somehow find her way back to Asgard.

And they better better be ready for her.

Sorry for the delay in getting this out, exams are a bitch. Anyway, I hope you enjoyed it. I feel as though the quality peters off towards the end a bit, though I feel like it's still a good read. I may go back and flesh it out later. I'm still satisfied with it. I'm aiming to update on Fridays. If you're in the Northern Hemisphere, it will be a Thursday.

I wrote this chapter to Forbidden Friendship, from the How To Train Your Dragon soundtrack. Go listen, it's great.

Edit 23/11/2018: Changed the end of the chapter to have more description, also overhauled the reaction of Hermione to Ron's blindness. I have learned my lesson about posting a chapter at 2: 27 am. Never again (I say as I update this at 3:46 am the next day. I really need to sort out my sleep schedule).

Sincerely,
An exhausted Mariadoria.