Chapter 2: Familiar Faces and Misleading Stars
Hermione was not happy the day she boarded the train for Hogwarts. She still hadn't found a way to fly without pixie dust, she was a year older, and she sat in a compartment by herself, a book in her lap about Merlin while trying to find some reference to Pixie Dust. Apparently he was Fae blessed? Surely that was also a type of fairy? A boy named Neville who's face reminds her so much of Michael that it makes her heart hurt comes into her compartment and asks if he can sit with her. He is quite for all of five seconds before explaining that he's lost his toad, and his face is so forlorn she offers to help him. She searches half the train, while he searches the other.
She had just given up hope when she entered the last compartment. It is then she sees a flash of red hair, and her heart stops because she's only seen that certain color once before. She slides open the door, and the face she sees is familiar. It's impossible and implausible, but it's also Peter looking even younger than the last time she saw him. He and the other boy look up as she enters, and her throat closes as tears flood her vision (because she knows those eyes, she knows that face. It's one she has been trying to figure out how to get to).
"Peter?" She whispers, looking at him, daring to hope. He stares back, and her hopes are dashed. The boy's eyes hold no recognition, and pain blooms in her chest. She doesn't give them a chance to respond, and her vision blurs as she struggles to keep her emotions under control.
"Sorry." She tries to say, but a sob comes out instead.
She stumbles out of the compartment, ignoring their looks of confusion and runs back to her and Neville's section. He isn't back yet, and she feels all her composure leave her as tears slide down her cheeks. Her brain is barely functioning, and she tells herself to firmly stop it, because there are people on this train that would gladly hurt her for her blood. But she cannot help it. That was Peter, and that meant he also must have met his untimely fate. He had been holding her before-. And her last sight had been Hook looming over him. He died, she realized and cried more. Eventually her tears stop, and she is able to calm herself. Neville comes back in shortly afterward, toadless. He must sense her distress, because he asks questions about her books. She is grateful for the distraction and spends the rest of the time talking about what's she learned with him, even as her mind is a mess.
She changes her clothes and leaves the train, Neville trailing after her. She sees the way he trips over his too long robes, how he fumbles with his wand and is reminded of her lost boys. She offers him her hand, and murmurs, "I'm nervous. Hold my hand?" with a soft smile. Neville tentatively smiles back and puts his warm hand into hers. They float across the enchanted lake, and Hermione is aware she's babbling, regurgitating words she's read, but Neville seems interested and is actually listening. She watches as the castle fully comes into view, and even she cannot stifle her awed gasp. It's beautiful, and even if Neverland is better, Hermione feels the same sense of belonging she felt there.
They enter a hall, and she watches as the boy who isn't Peter and the other boy (her eyes zero in on the scar on his forehead and familiarity floods her) she now knows is Harry Potter square off with a blonde child. She doesn't pay attention to there words, and watches as McGonagall steps out from the shadows. They fall silent as she reveals herself and the older woman opens her mouth to speak when Neville shouts.
"Trevor!" He cries and rips his hand from hers to run up the steps. He stops in front of McGonagall and Hermione and the rest of the first years watch as he stoops down and picks up a tiny toad. She tries and fails not to smile at the happiness on his face. His face turns red when he realizes people are watching him, and he hurries back to her side, slipping Trevor into his pocket before rubbing his hand on his robe and (at her nod and kind smile) and retaking her hand. She misses what McGonagall says, her mind still abuzz as she gazes at the ginger in front of her. He's not even paying attention, she thinks fondly. Neville tugs on her hand and she realizes that they are moving. They are brought to another hall, this one for dining. She looks up and smiles as she sees the sky unfold above her. The star she so desperately years to go to shines brightly in the false sky, but even the fictitious sky cannot compare to the real beauty of the second star to the right that go's on til morning and Hermione looks away, upset for a reason she can't quite fathom.
She looks to see Neville entranced as well as several other children and hurriedly explains, "It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts: A History." She murmured to him, her cheeks flushing when he looked at her. Had she just lost her first friend? But no, he smiles.
"You're brilliant, Hermione." He tells her. Her cheeks go darker, and she opens her mouth to speak but stops herself when she sees the headmaster stand. She doesn't pay attention to what he says, merely waits until he says what she's waiting for.
"Let the sorting begin!" Dumbledore shouts, and a hat appears. The headmistress holds it and calls a Hannah Abbot. The girl beside her runs up eagerly, and McGonagall puts it on her head. Hermione watches the proceedings curiously and restrains a gasp when a mouth and eyes are molded from the fabric on the hat. It (somehow) narrows its eyes.
"HUFFLEPUFF!" It screamed. The girl skipped over to table with canary yellow and black banners. It was fascinating, and Hermione found herself no longer anxious, but excited. Soon enough, she hears her name being called and rushes up to the stool. She sits and feels the weight on her head and jumps at the voice that appears in her mind.
Miss Granger, or should I say Miss Darling? The hat asked her. She nearly stood, panicked that everyone had heard it. No need to fear, Miss Darling. They can't hear me. Hermione settles at the words and leans back. Hmm. Interesting. Clever, smart, ambitious. Loyal. Brave. Courageous and values friendship. And a reincarnated soul of a girl from 1904. Do you feel out of place here? It asks, sounding curious.
Not at all. I am, after all, also a child from 1995.She says in her head. And it is much easier to read now that people no longer think a woman's only use is being a wife.
To her surprise The Sorting Hat laughs. True enough, Miss Darling. I think there is only one place for you. I hope you find your way back to Neverland but till then, I wish you the best of luck in "GRYFFINDOR!"
The last word was shouted, and she runs to the scarlet and gold clad table. She claps as Neville is also sorted in Gryffindor, making room so he can sit beside her while still looking at the boy who might be Peter. Not-quite-Peter's friend (and Harry Potter) is sorted in her house after several silent minutes. He sits next to a pair of redheaded twins who just ooze mischief, but Hermione doesn't take her eyes off that one crimson head of hair until he runs up at, Weasley, Ron.
The hat barely touches his head before screaming,
"GRYFFINDOR!"
and he settles between Potter and one of the twins. Hermione sighs for a moment. Ron, while a lovely name, doesn't suit him. Perhaps she is imagining things. Reading too much into his likeness to the boy from Neverland. Or maybe he really is her Peter, come back to her because Death wasn't as big an adventure as it let on. Either way, as she watched him talk to Harry Potter, she knew that it was more important then ever she find a way to Neverland. And she had to determine whether she was leaving Peter behind or going to see him once again.
A/N: And that's chapter two! I'll try to update once a week. This fic will be drawing from multiple facets of Peter Pan, (But heavily drawing from the Disney film, the 2003 version, and the book) and of course also have a healthy dose of AU. Please review, I love to hear feedback. PM me if you have questions or want to talk. I'll see you all in the next chapter of Faith, Trust, and Pixie Dust (Also, Reincarnation).
I am, therefore I spread,
Pain