(A/N): Hey! Hope everyone is having an enjoyable weekend! Or, at the very least, a super relaxing one. I definitely hurt my hip being stupid on Thursday so I've been doing my best to just chill and not make any sudden movements.
Gratitude goes to uwishuwerecool, moozga, Alyxia, peachx89, aiyaiy13, aromatictruth, TrueHeir, Sora Loves Rain, Silas Serenity, bookluver45679, sisselina, Westcoast222, Najada, R-E-B-E-C, NYFanFic, lilphipp, Adharablack85-2, Astral chronicles, Catzandbookz8, and Guests for reviewing! You guys are the best and I love you!
This chapter is unbetaed so any mistakes are all on me. Unfortunately.
I really hope you guys like this chapter and the people who show up in it. Or, at the very least, I hope you don't hate it. Just trying to set myself some reasonable expectations.
Thank you all for reading! Enjoy!
Loki walked into the throne room with Thor by his side, head held high despite the chains binding his hands and feet.
He had no shame or regrets for what he'd done. Loki would do it all over again- would do whatever he had to in order to protect his daughter.
Frigga stood at the bottom of the stairs leading to Odin's throne, watching Loki with sad eyes. "Loki," she greeted softly.
"Hello, Mother," he returned. Despite his desire to keep himself calm and in control, he couldn't stop the bitterness inside him from prodding, "Have I made you proud?"
"Please," she whispered. "Don't make this worse."
Worse? Loki had been ripped away from his daughter again- could still feel her pain at their separation mingling with his own and settling into his bones. He had been captured and tortured at the hands of Thanos, turned into a puppet and then unleashed on the world his daughter called home. His family, who he had tried so hard to hide the existence of his daughter from, now knew of Mia.
One of his own nightmares was now making itself a reality and all he could do was watch.
"Define worse?" he spat.
"Enough!" Odin ordered. "I will speak to the prisoner alone."
To Loki's surprise, Thor stepped forward then. "With all due respect," he started, voice strong and loud enough to carry throughout the room. "I believe that this is a family matter."
"You dare challenge your king?" roared Odin, leaning forward and fixing his one good eye on his son.
Not even flinching at his father's rage, Thor answered, "I believe that there are things you do not know but need to in order to properly understand just what occurred."
"You believe I to be ignorant?" Odin hissed. "You think I am not already aware of what you wish to speak of? I know all about Loki's child- the daughter he tried to keep hidden from us."
Loki's stomach dropped.
"Loki was only concerned for her safety," Thor argued. "He was doing his best to protect her."
"From his own family?" the Allfather countered. "His actions do not speak of protectiveness but instead reek of shame!"
Despite his need to argue- to explain just how proud and in awe he was of the woman he had helped raise- Loki remained silent. There was no need for him to give Odin any more ammunition, for Thor was sure to hand out enough of that just by being his witless self.
Taking a deep breath, Thor slowly spoke. "Though I do love our culture and our people, even you must know what kind of response there would have been had word gotten out that Loki had a child. Looking back now, I can see how poorly we allowed him to be treated and what our people have always thought of him. Either they would have looked at such a joyous gift with distain or with fear. I understand why he would decide not to tell us, and I am sure that you can as well."
"She is family," Frigga said quietly, eyes still locked on Loki's face. "We would have loved and cared for her if only we had been given the opportunity to."
Loki's control finally snapped. "She is not your family! None of you have any claim to her!" His chains rattled as his volume increased. "You all would have just used her as a pawn in your games if the benevolent Allfather had not had her killed outright due to fear of a prophecy that none of you are even intelligent enough to truly understand."
"Ah yes, the prophecy." Odin sat back in his throne. "'The child of Loki shall bring an end to the King's tyranny'. Is that why you hid her from us, Loki? Is that at the root of all this?"
"Prophecy's can be misleading," Thor argued. "Their meanings are often lost in their interpretations."
"True, but as prophecy's go, this one is rather simple, is it not?"
He had had enough. "If I am for the axe, then for mercy's sake, just swing it. It's not that I don't love our little talks, it's just… I don't love them." He could feel Mia and Carol's worry as they felt his rage and fear, and he did his best to shield as much of his emotions from them as he could.
"Frigga is the only reason you are still alive," Odin told him solemnly, glancing at his wife. "And you will never see her again. You will spend the rest of your days in the dungeon."
Loki mentally snorted in amusement. He may be banished to the dungeons for the time being, but he knew he would not remain there for long. Sooner or later, Carol would come to free him. They had things that needed to be done in the universe outside Asgard- monsters to face so that their daughter need not.
It was only a matter of time.
I'm sorry.
I'm sorry.
I'm so sorry.
Sorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorrysorry-
"I'm so sorry," Hermione choked out again. Her parents- her first parents, that had raised a precocious, self-righteous little girl to the best of their abilities- were gone. Had left this world without the memories of the thing they had always claimed was their greatest pride and joy.
What would they have said, if they had gotten their memories of her back? Would they have still loved her? Would they have hated her for what she had done to them?
Would they have ever forgiven her?
No, probably not.
Leaning forward so that her forehead was centimeters above the ground, Hermione finally allowed herself to mourn. She had spent a year holding it together, forcing herself to focus on moving forward and never on what had used to be. Focused on her new life and her new identity as Mia Stark and ignored everything associated with Hermione Granger. The past was gone after all, and no amount of tears would bring it back. Now though, she finally let go.
She cried for the family she had lost, the friends that had abandoned her, and the ones that she herself had let go of. Hermione Granger had lived, loved, and lost and now her heart- the heart belonging to the girl she used to be- rested with her parents three meters below.
It was gone, and it was her fault.
She was gone, alone, with no one left who really remembered her. No one to remember what she had been like the first time growing up- to share those memories with. No one who truly remembered how much she had struggled for so many years. All that remained of her past was a legacy that had been stained so much it resembled nothing of who she used to be.
Steve and Tony stood back, both feeling helpless as they watched her sob in front of them. Her grief reminded them of their own- of the people they had lost and the possibilities that had been ripped away.
Footsteps coming from behind them caused both men to turn in unison. Hermione didn't look up, too lost in her pain.
"See, Draco," came a light and airy voice. "The star's whispers brought us to the correct place."
The words ripped through Hermione's grief and she froze, eyes snapping open to stare at the ground.
A male voice swore. "We shouldn't be here," he hissed.
Standing up, Hermione turned to face the last two people she was expecting to run into anywhere, let alone here.
"Hello, Hermione," greeted an older Luna Lovegood standing next to a man who could only be Draco Malfoy. "I'm glad to see you doing so well; the wrackspurts have finally gone away it seems."
Hermione stared at Luna and Malfoy. Out of everyone in the Wizarding World that she could have run into by happenstance, these two were the last ones she'd ever expected to meet. Especially not here, in Australia, standing in front of her parent's graves.
"We come here every year," Luna said after a long minute of silence, voice still as dreamy as it had been while they were in Hogwarts. "We always bring flowers in thanks."
"On the eve of Hermione's death," Tony said lowly, glaring at Draco. He knew that name. "You come visit the Granger's graves and leave flowers?"
"It seemed the better alternative," Malfoy muttered, doing his best not to look at anyone. "More fitting than going to the celebration the Ministry always holds at least."
Her stomach dropped. "Ministry celebration?" Hermione asked, stepping past Tony and Steve and stopping a meter away from the two. "Celebration for what?"
"For the most noblest sacrifice of the Brightest Muggleborn Witch of Her Generation," Malfoy sneered. "Basically, the Ministry decided that it would be better to celebrate that you died rather than acknowledge that they couldn't have cared less about your fate when you were living."
"Harry and Ron started a foundation in your name," Luna stated, though there was an odd note in her voice that Hermione had never heard from her before. "They have a ball in order to raise money for it."
"What kind of charity?" Steve asked, stepping forward to rest a hand on Hermione's back in a silent show of support.
Malfoy studied him. "Supposedly, the money is used to give scholarship's to Muggleborn's to help support them throughout their Hogwart's career."
"Supposedly," Hermione repeated dully.
"Considering how few Muggleborn's there actually are now in Britain, one has to wonder what the money the charity is receiving is actually going towards." Malfoy rocked back and forth on his feet, expression clearly displaying his desire to be elsewhere.
"Not that this isn't a great conversation to be having in this location," interrupted Tony, who was still glowering at the blond wizard. "But I'm still not sure what exactly you're doing here."
Luna turned her large blue eyes on him. "We're here to pay our respects." Stepping forward, she placed the bouquet of flowers on top of the Wilkins' tombstone. "What better way is there to celebrate Hermione's life than to thank the people who raised her?"
Against her will, Hermione's eyes welled with tears again. Luna had always had a knack for seeing the world in an unusual way. It shouldn't have surprised her that Luna would think the same as her- that Luna would choose the best way to remember the girl from before.
"And why are you here?" demanded her brother to Malfoy. He couldn't believe the nerve of the man, to visit the parents of the girl he had tormented for years and watched be tortured in his home.
"I…" Malfoy was oddly hesitant for a moment before pulling himself together, expression turning blank. "I wanted to pay my respects. I shouldn't have come though."
As he started to turn away, Hermione stopped him. "Why?" she croaked. "Why would you want to pay your respects?"
He stopped and looked back at her. "Because I was wrong. I was wrong, and the best way I could think of to show how sorry I am was to come here and show respect to the exact people I made the mistake of looking down on for far too long. If I had known you were here though, I wouldn't have visited today."
"Why?" Steve asked. "Don't you think Hermione is the one who really deserves an apology from you?"
"Of course," Malfoy snapped. "But just because I'm feeling bad and want to say sorry doesn't mean I have any right to force my presence here." Taking a deep breath, he met Hermione's steady gaze. "You have every right to hate me. There's no reason for you to listen to my apology and I have no right to try and force you to hear it in order to make myself feel better. If I tried to stand here and make you listen to what I had to say, then I would still be nothing more than that boy who hated you for having the gall to exist."
Hermione just stared at the blond wizard. It was strange. She had seen Harry- she had known that the people in her old life had grown older while she had seemingly stayed the same age- but this?
Draco Malfoy hadn't just grown older- he had actually grown up.
She cleared her throat. "Perhaps this discussion would best be had over tea."
Everyone stared at her in surprise- except for Luna. "Yes, that does sound nice," the blond woman nodded in agreement, her earrings- which appeared to have dangling pieces of okra hanging from them- swinging along.
"I'm sorry, I think you mean that it sounds awful," Tony fired back. "Just horrible, really."
"Then perhaps you should refrain from thinking," Hermione told him, arching an eyebrow.
Tony frowned at her. "That would be an option except someone took away all my good drugs."
"Because someone found you in the lab on the second of February at 2:22 a.m. declaring that it was a magical time and that you needed to build your own fire breathing dragon because Iron Man needed a sidekick that matched the awesomeness of your suit or some such nonsense," Hermione scoffed.
"Seriously?" Steve chuckled.
Hermione nodded solemnly. "It was not a good night."
"I wouldn't want to impose," Draco said slowly, looking uncharacteristically unsure.
"I wouldn't have invited you if it were an imposition," she told him evenly, though even she wasn't sure if that was true. However, it had been 15 years now since they last saw one another and this was a conversation long overdue.
"How many people actually believe that I'm alive?" Hermione asked, turning her cup round and round in her hand.
"Not many," Malfoy snorted, leaning back in his seat at the small café they had found a few blocks from the cemetery. "But I believe that has more to do with the fact that Potter has been keeping quiet about you than anything else. Word of your return has been filtering around to many of the magical communities of course, but the Ministry has been silent."
"Why?" Tony snarked, placing his arm on the back of Hermione's chair. "Worried about what will happen when she comes back and starts telling the truth?"
"Yes," Luna answered, gazing at Hermione closely. "With the anniversary of the Battle of Hogwarts so close, The Daily Prophet has published many articles about Harry's defeat of Voldemort and several interviews with him and Ron."
Hermione nodded, a bitter grin appearing on her face. "I see. Shoring up the story they want told so that no one would believe me even if I did reappear and start telling the truth."
"It's not a bad plan," Malfoy allowed. "Or, it wouldn't be if they weren't dealing with you." When Hermione raised a brow at him in question, Malfoy smirked. "Walking into Wizarding Britain and shouting the truth is the equivalent of breaking into a home by kicking down the front door. It's very obvious and very Gryffindor. And not your style at all. You wouldn't go that route unless you felt like you'd been backed into a corner- like with Skeeter in our fifth year. The interview may have been your idea, but you only did it because it was the best plan you had."
Taking a moment to let that sink in, Hermione felt a pang of sadness at the fact that Draco Malfoy, her childhood enemy, knew her better than her former best friends. "I never blamed you," she said abruptly.
Malfoy flinched away from her and Hermione sighed. "I never blamed you," she repeated gently. "What happened to me was horrid and awful, but it wasn't your fault."
Staring down at his cup, Malfoy softly replied, "When I was first Marked, I was so proud. I supported the Dark Lord's cause completely- I truly thought you were less than me. I may have eventually seen the truth, but that doesn't make up for the way I behaved during our school years. It doesn't change the hurt I caused while doing his bidding."
With a shake of her head, Hermione told him, "You were a product of your upbringing. You were taught by your parents that Muggles and Muggleborns were lesser because of their blood and you believed them because they were your parents and you trusted them. You looked up to them, admired them, so of course they were right about this- of course they weren't mistaken or wrong. And then you arrived at Hogwarts and met me- a bossy, overbearing, overconfident Muggleborn that defied all your expectations. Not only was I annoying, but I also was proof that everything you thought you knew was wrong so of course you hated me. I'm not saying that your behavior was acceptable, but I understand it."
"I'm sure you weren't that bad," Steve softly protested, but Hermione didn't turn her gaze away from the rapidly paling, blond wizard.
"Yes, I was. I was a nightmare and you, Malfoy, were a bully. But we're not those people anymore. You're not that person anymore, Malfoy. Because if you were, you wouldn't be here."
"Maybe not," he allowed, "but I'm still a former Death Eater, and I always will be. And no behavior on your part justifies how I acted."
Hermione rolled her eyes. "That may be true but, let's be honest, you weren't a very good Death Eater. And I'm not sure how much the fact that you joined really counts for, considering the fact that you became a Death Eater in order to protect your mother."
"She's right," Luna agreed, bobbing her head as she took a sip of tea. "You weren't a very good Death Eater."
The blond managed to pull a genuine smile from Hermione. Malfoy, however, seemed to just grow more tense. "I could have found a different option."
Steve studied the other man, trying to match the stories Hermione had told him to the person sitting in front of them. "From what I understand," he finally said, when it looked like Hermione was going to move from speaking to Malfoy to smacking Malfoy, "you only had a variety of bad options. You chose the best one available- the one that would truly protect your mother."
"If it had been me," Hermione said, voice soft and low, "I would have done the exact same thing because family is everything, and I would have- and will do- whatever is needed to keep mine safe."
Blinking rapidly, Malfoy softly asked, "It's taken me years to work through everything. Why do you seem so... alright, after only a year?" When Hermione just gave him a small, mysterious smile, his eyes narrowed. "From your appearance, it seems as though you've barely aged at all since you disappeared- it's why everyone is saying that you either time travelled or were put into a frozen state. But they're wrong, aren't they? You weren't really gone, you just somehow found a way to stopaging."
Hermione ignored his claim. "Draco, it's been 15 years now. I've worked through what happened when we were children and I don't hate you anymore- I honestly never even truly hated you when we were young. Despite what you may think, you weren't the villain in my story."
Tony's hand tightened on her shoulder and Luna stared at them with glittering blue eyes. "Congratulations on finding your brother," she told Hermione. "Mia- meaning wished for or wanted child. Your parents must have loved you very much."
"Or they just already knew you very well," Malfoy muttered, still looking down. "It also means rebellious and vengeful."
"Oh, that does describe her very well then," Luna nodded in agreement.
Malfoy finally met Hermione's gaze again with a faint smirk. "I think Edgecombe would especially agree."
Hermione snorted. "Don't tell me that she hasn't figured out how to undo it."
"Undo what?" Tony asked, curious as to what exactly Mia had done to this Edgecomb person.
"During our fifth year, we had a Defense Against the Dark Arts professor that wasn't actually teaching us any practical magic because she was nothing more than a Ministry lackey and they didn't care if we learned anything as long as they had someone in the school to keep an eye on Dumbledore. A group of us decided to learn on our own without any of the other professors knowing and Marietta Edgecombe was a part of our group," Hermione explained. "She betrayed us though- she told the Dark Arts professor what we were doing and gave her a list of names of who were part of the group."
"And in retaliation," Malfoy picked up, "Granger jinxed her to have large pustules appear on her forehead spelling out the word 'Sneak'."
Steve's eyes widened and he looked over at Hermione in shock while Tony just grinned. "And they never went away?"
"Of course they did," Luna told him. "Now she just has some scarring spelling out the word."
"I shouldn't have had the word 'Sneak' appear," Hermione sighed. Steve had started to nod in agreement when she continued, "I should have used the word 'Snitch'. Much more appropriate."
"Hermione!" Steve rebuked as Tony laughed. Even Malfoy let out a short chuckle.
"I have no regrets for what I've done," Hermione told Steve bluntly.
The conversation turned to lighter topics. Luna told her that after graduating from Hogwarts, she had gone off to travel the world and met her husband, Rolf Scamander. She had recently given birth to twin boys- Lorcan and Lysander- but that hadn't stopped the couple from continuing to travel the world in search of new magical creatures. Hermione had been delighted to hear how well Luna was doing, though she still privately wondered just how her friendship with Draco had come about, and extracted a promise from Luna that she and her family would visit the next time they were in New York.
After much prodding, Draco had spoken of his life in France and his work with the French Ministry. He also told them about his wife- Daphne Greengrass' younger sister, Astoria- and their son, Scorpious. Tony hadn't been able to stop himself from loudly proclaiming what a terrible name that was and how sorry he felt for the kid.
"It's a Black family tradition," Hermione explained to her brother in exasperation. "All the children are named after stars or constellations. Besides, I've heard other wizarding names that are far worse."
Luna hummed in agreement. "Yes, Ginny always hated her name. Ginerva."
Hermione's face fell. "Yes, I heard that Ginny died at the Final Battle." She and the youngest Weasley may not have been the best of friends, but Hermione was still sad to hear what had happened to her- the Weasley family must have been devastated.
"It's alright, Hermione," Luna told her gently, noticing her sadness. "It was her time. Death is nothing to be afraid of- it's neither good nor evil, it just is."
Death is what gives life meaning. To know your days are numbered. Your time is short.
Hermione forced a smile but said nothing.
Soon, it was time for Hermione, Steve, and Tony to go. They had to get back to New York and the lives waiting for them.
"Don't forget to visit," Hermione reminded Luna, hugging the blond witch tightly.
"I won't." Pulling away, Luna stared at Hermione with a strange intensity. "It can be easy to try and forget things that hurt us," Luna stated abruptly. "But it's important to always remember. Don't forget who you are, Hermione Granger- there's nothing wrong with being you."
Draco held a hand out to Hermione when she stopped in front of him. "Goodbye, Granger," he said simply. "I'm sure we'll be seeing each other again much sooner than either of us would like."
Laughing, Hermione shook his hand. "Goodbye, Malfoy. Hopefully it'll be a good while before we run into one another again."
When they were finally back on the plane, Hermione sat back in her seat with a sigh. This day had been much more exhausting than she had originally expected it to be. Seeing Luna and Malfoy again- on top of visiting her parents- showed just how much she'd changed.
She should have been past this- moved on from the shock of seeing how far she'd come from her days as Hermione Granger, Brain of the Golden Trio. When she looked in the mirror now, a new person was staring back at her and it was one she liked infinitely better.
Still, the shadow of who she used to be still haunted her. No matter how much she may have tried to say otherwise, Hermione Granger still lived on and her legacy still needed to be dealt with.
Harry and Ron were running a charity… she could, perhaps, see Harry having done something like that given his guilt complex but Ron? No, he had never been the type to help out those less fortunate, probably because he always viewed himself as being one of them. Nothing was ever enough for Ron. It was that fact that worried her.
"You alright?" Steve murmured, sitting down next to her.
Hermione leaned her head back. "I don't know," she admitted. "It was strange seeing them again. They're both so grown up. They have families, careers, lives- if I hadn't disappeared, I might have had all those things too by now. Do you still think about that? What your life could have been if you hadn't crashed the plane?"
Steve grimaced. "Sometimes, but not as often now. I still miss it- how my life used to be and all the people I left behind- but it helps to remind myself that if things hadn't happened the way they did, I wouldn't have the life I do now. And all things considered, I like my life."
"So do I," she agreed, relaxing.
It was silent for a moment before Steve asked, "A fire-breathing dragon?"
"It was a bad night," Hermione sighed. "And yet, it was not the strangest night I've ever had with Tony."
"I don't think I wanna know," he laughed.
Mia stared around the room in confusion. She was back in her childhood home- the one Carol and Loki had made for them. Her parents were nowhere in sight though.
"Hello," came a soft voice from behind her and Mia spun around. "I have been most anxious to meet you."
Studying the woman closely, it took Mia only moments to figure out who she was. Clenching her hands together, she spat, "You don't belong here."
Frigga just smiled. "At first glance, the resemblance between you and Loki is not as obvious but looking closer-"
"You need to leave. Now." Mia was almost shaking with rage. This woman had invaded her home- her safe place- and didn't even have the decency to appear even slightly apologetic. "How did you even…" she trailed off, realizing what had happened.
Her shields had slipped. After the stress of the day, her mind had slipped in her sleep.
"Did Loki not speak of me?" Frigga frowned.
Barking a laugh, Mia asked, "Are you really so surprised? Are you so shocked that here, in our sanctuary- the place my parents ensured would be a safe, happy home- that my father wouldn't wish to speak of anything related to his life in Asgard?"
Sighing, Frigga started, "I am aware that Loki looks back on his childhood with anger, but I had hoped that he would have told you some of your heritage."
"And what heritage is that? One of lies and warfare? Of bigotry and hatred?" Mia stared past Frigga for a moment, looking at a picture on the wall. It was one of her and her parents- the first one of them together. It had been taken moments after she was born. Mia was swaddled in Carol's arms and Loki was sitting beside them on the hospital bed. Her parents looked so heartbroken yet also so happy and loving. She didn't know where the physical copy of that photo was, but Mia was dying to get her hands on it.
"My father," she continued slowly, "is one of the best men I know. He is brave, loyal, smart, and loving. I am the person I am today because of his guiding hand. But Odin never saw that. All he saw was a disappointment. And you, you who claim to love him, all you ever did was stand aside and watch. Watch as Odin berated him for not being an exact replica of Thor, as he made my father feel weak and stupid. You would wipe his tears and say encouraging words, but not once did you ever stand up to Odin and actually protect him." Frigga stared at her, eyes wide.
"Parents are supposed to protect their children. My parents would burn the universe to the ground to save me- my mother risked everything to find me when the Chitauri attacked Midgard even though she was on the other side of the galaxy. When compared to her, what could my father possibly have had to say about you- a woman who protected him from no one and simply stood and watched as the people of Asgard looked down on him- that would have meant anything to me?"
"I am your grandmother," the other woman said softly. "There may be issues, but we are still family- even if we are not related by blood."
"You're right," Mia agreed, hands glowing. "Blood doesn't make a family. But neither does a relation with others- just because you are Loki's mother doesn't make you anything to me. Being a member of my family is something that has to be earned, not just given to you because you wish it. You are not family, just as Thor is not family. You are nothing to me and until you've proven to me that you're worth of being called 'grandmother', that is a title that will never belong to you."
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