"Robin! Is it true that you and your team fought off Brother Blood?" a woman asked, holding her microphone out ot Robin eagerly.

"Yes it is," he replied simply. The interveiwer didn't seem very satisifed with his short answer.

"Is is true that one of your own went undercover at the H.I.V.E. Academy to trick Blood into giving them secret information?" a different reporter asked, male this time.

"What will happen with your situation with Blood?"

"Will one of your team members go out to hunt him down?"

"Is Red-X behind the brainwashing?" Robin rasied an eyebrow.

"Now what does Red-X have to do with this?" he asked, only to be ambushed with more questions.

"Who is Red-X?"

"Is he dead?"

"Sources say that you were Red-X!"

"Where is he now?"

"What about-?"

Casey shut off the television and watched the screen snap to black. He glanced at the newpaper that had been brought in by Steeve, the butler.

TITANS SETBACK MENACING GENIUS, BROTHER BLOOD ESCAPES

The article took up half the page (not including the rather too-large-for-Casey's-tastes snapshot of the team) and continued on page B6...not that he cared anyway. Standing up, Casey walked over to his desk and sat back down. Opening his notebook where he wrote down his assignments, he sighed and pulled out a pencil. He crossed off "page 507, problems 1-7 odd and 26-42 even" and "four three-point parallel thesis statements" from his list. He scanned the rest of it and let his eyes fall on his French assignment: sweet talk teacher into boosting me up 0.03 percent, it read and was already crossed out because he had accomplished that last week. Casey smirked. His French "teacher," Madame Rosaline was a fresh out of collage graduate...and an early graduate at that. She was nineteen years old, native to France, an exchange student, and was teaching high school level French for a living.

He didn't blame her though, for falling for his "sweet talk,"any girl that was in a five year age range (and straight of course) fell for it too, and even some gay men. A smile, casually run his finger through his hair, and a casual-yet-sexy "hello" usually did the trick. Sometimes he'd have to wink, or fan a couple hundred dollar bills for the gold-diggers, but other than that, he could chit-chat his way into anything. Not only that, he also had ridiculously fast relexes. Casey opened his currently closed hand to reveal Rosaline's turquoise ring. He'd return it later of course, but he just wanted to see if he could take it without her noticing...and the proof that he could was sitting in his palm. He closed his fist around it before placing it on his desk.

"Casey! Venez cet instant ici! J'ai le club de Lady me rencontrant dans la demi-heure et je m'attends à ce que vous soyez dans la porte dans cinq minutes en portant seulement votre meilleur!"his mother barked through the intercom. Casey sighed. Ever since his 99.97 in Fench, his mother had decided to speak to him in only French until his less that prefect grade was fixed. He was going to talk to Rosaline next time he had her class, but that wasn't enough for his dear mother. Nothing ever was.

"Oui maternent, évidemment la mère ... n'importe quoi pour vous materne," he replied, releasing the button. "Psycho bitch...or shall I say, 'Chienne de Psycho'?" He chuckled at himself and then prepared to make himself presentable for Madame.


Exactly four minutes and fifty-nine seconds later, Casey was downstairs, suited up in dress pants and a blazer, holding his mother's sequined purse while she adjusted her mink fur wrap. Casey shifted his weight from one foot to the other as she messed around with the shawl. In addition to her rather ridiculous and somewhat tacky outfit that consisted of a pale blue, sleeveless shirt and matching skirt that were both rimmed with a yellow lace trim, she decided she needed some head wear and selected a rather obnoxious feathered hat that had a pair of doves placed upon it.

"Casey!" his mother snapped, "Ma porte-monnaie," she requested. Rather, she demanded it. Casey slipped the handle of her purse onto her gloved hand and she narrowed her eyes before turning on heel and headed out the door, which the butler had opened right before she got to it. Casey trailed after her, trying to keep a pleasent expression on his face. The butler's own expression didn't change as Casey walked out the door and the butler closed the door behind him.

Casey approached the car and the driver opened the car door for him. He slid in, sitting himself on the leather seat next to his mother. Only the arm rest-slash-cup holder between them.

"La maison de Romilda," his mother instructed the driver. Casey rolled his eyes. Now the people enslaved by his mother had to use French too? Talk about obsessive...

"Don't tell me the people at your stupid club will be forced to speak in French..." Casey muttered.

"Oh, et Casey..." his mother said. Casey looked at her.

"Oui mère?" he asked.

"Romilda a demandé si je peux vous présenter à sa fille, Hermione. J'ai dit que vous seriez ravis de rencontrer sa jolie fille," she told him. Her voice was laced with ice. This was no request either. It was an order. He had no choice but to agree.

"Évidemment mère. Je serais sur joyed pour rencontrer Hermione," he said, hoping this Hermione girl was pretty. His mother wore a smug look on her face as the car turned into the driveway that belonged to his mother's "dear, dear friend" Romilda Ranchoff. The driver pulled up to the front gate and stopped the car. He got out before opening the door on his mother's side and helping her out. Then she came around and opened the door on Casey's side, who stepped out onto the gravel and looked up at the large house-slash-castle that towered, almost loomed, in front of him, in a way, trying to intimidate him. It was nothing new. Romilda's house just a foot or so shorter than his.

A woman suddenly appeared at the front door, clad in a pink suit jacket and a skirt to match. Like his mother's, her outfit was lined with lace as well, only this lace was white.

"Prudy darling!" the woman exclaimed.

"Romilda!" Casey's mother and her friend went to meet each other at the bottom of the steps. They embraced and exchanged "air kisses." All Casey heard was "muwa, muwa!"

Romilda peered around Prudence to take a look at Casey.

"So this must be your dashing boy Casey!" she smiled with sappy and sugar-coated affection at him, "Hermione is very excited to meet you, you know. She's been talking about it all morning." Casey nodded and faked a large grin.

"I've been looking forward to meeting her as well, Mrs. Ranchoff," he said. Romilda clapped.

"Oh this is just wonderful! Both of you please come inside! Kelly is already here! She arrived just before you did Prudy! And so is Sarina! You remember Sarina Wilkins, don't you? Oh I'm sure you will get along wonderfully! And Gertrude! Dearest Gertrude!" Romilda kept up her rambling as she ushered Casey and his mother inter her house and into the parlor. As Casey was about to fallow his mother into the parlor where three other women were slready seated and having tea, Romilda placed a hand on his shoulder and stopped him.

"Hermione is upstairs in her room, Casey," she said. Casey was about to speak when noises of delight came from the parlor. The three women and his mother were happily embracing each other in greeting, and loudly at that. Casey turned away from the scene and looked back at Romilda.

"Yes ma'am," he replied.

"Don't hurt her, Casey," she told him. Despite him being a good four inches taller than her, he still felt imtimidated as she stared at his retreating back as he climbed the stairs to Hermione's room. Once he reached the top step, he looked around, trying to see which door could lead him to Hermione's room.

He approached one door and was prepared to knock when the door across the hall opened to reveal a teenage girl.

She was wearing an A-line, strapless, power blue dress (Casey noted that blue was evidently popular these days) that was scrunched at the bust and had a white rose attached over her right breast. She also wore simple, white shoes and a gold, heard-shaped locket that hung from a delecate chain from around her neck. In her blonde hair that was styled into a loose bun, there was a lavender ribbon weaved into her curls. Two ringlets of her hair hung down to frame her face. She also had blue, almost violet eyes. Pretty indeed.

"Hello," she said softly. Her voice was like a light, tinkling bell. "I'm Hermione Ranchoff." She curtsied. Casey stared at her. Alrighty then...

"Hello Ms. Ranchoff. I am Casey Devers," he bowed a little. Hermione straightened up.

"Oh please, call me Hermione," she said. Casey nodded.

"Of course Ms. Hermione." This time, she giggled.

"Just 'Hermione,' Mr. Devers," she replied. Casey eyed the girl.

"Yes...Hermione," he said. She smiled at him.

"Pleasure to meet you," she said, holding out her hand with the intensions to shake him.

"The pleasure's all mine," he replied, taking her hand. However instead of shaking it like he knew she was expecting, he kissed the top of her hand lightly, earning a quick intake of breath from Hermione, who had a light pink blush spread across her face.


Roughly five hours later and Casey and his mother had returned home, Casey went straight to his room. Lying down on his bed, he stared up at the ceiling, thinking about the day's events.

"Hermione is a nice girl," his mother said, her voice mixed with static from the intercom. I must say Casey, you must have done a good job with your behavior." Casey turned to his side and pushed the reply button.

"Yes, she is. Good night mother." He was greeted with the sound of static as his mother's reply. He turned back to face the ceiling.

"A very nice girl indeed," he repeated to himself, opening his palm to reveal Hermione's shining, gold locket.


A/n: No this won't turn into a Red-X/OC (Hermione) fic seeing that I don't really like cannon characters and OC's to be together...but there will be some Red-X/Hermione in furture chapters...just because. Red-X, or in my case, Casey, doesn't seem like the kind of boy that would go through his teen years single for long periods of time. Plus, I kind of like the idea. I sort of stole Hermione's look from the Hermione in Romeo x Juliet. In fact, she might as well be a modern day rendition of the R x J Hermione.

Anywho, next chapter is when Casey begins to contemplate his abilities and reflexes and how he might be able to use them.

p.s. When Hermione is mentioned in this, I imagine it as pronounced "Her-my-own-ee" instead of "Her-my-nee" like Hermione Granger in the Harry Potter series.

Now I'm going to stop being the author's note before it becomes longer than the chapter itself.