On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads

Enigmaris

Chapter 20: Hermione the Ruthless

Summary:

Hermione finally arrives in New York, with her careful parents in tow.

Notes:

I'm so glad all of us want to protect Harry so much. I really felt the love for him last week in all the comments. The poor boy deserves so many hugs.

Thanks for the great comments! I hope you all like this week's update!

Chapter Text

The airport was loud. Of course, Hermione had known it would be. She'd flown plenty of times before on different vacations with her parents, but she'd never been to America before and this place… was much louder than expected. She huffed and readjusted her grip on her book. She'd managed to get her hands on some good magical theory books that she was certain would help her with the project Tony Stark had invited her to help with and she was almost finished with this one.

In front of her, her parents walked, hand in hand. Her mum was pulling the carry-on that her parents always shared. Her dad was carefully holding Crookshank's carrier. In between paragraphs, Hermione always looked up to make sure she was still following her parents as they moved from their gate and towards customs and baggage claim. Her dad pulled out his phone and said that their ride was already waiting for them.

"Oh, how exciting!" Her mother gushed. "I always knew our little Hermie would do great things but I never thought it'd be an internship with The Tony Stark."

Hermione rolled her eyes a little at the nickname. It was one of the things that had haunted her before Hogwarts. The kids at her old school had heard her mum call her that and had started making fun of her. Hermione had been very careful to ensure people called her by her name at Hogwarts. Although Ron and Harry sometimes shortened her name, it didn't bother her. They were her friends. Her family.

She discreetly pulled on the long sleeve of her shirt, the cuff had slid down some and was now revealing a peak of her newest form of what her mother would call 'rebellion'. Her parents had yet to see the mark on her wrist from when she'd magically declared herself Harry's sister and she would like to keep it that way until she was 18, at least. She hoped Harry would be willing to cast some sort of glamor over it soon so that she wouldn't have to keep wearing jackets in this heat.

Carefully she turned the page of her book, her mind wandering back down paths that were far easier for her to comprehend than her parents had ever been. Not to say that she didn't love them. She did. But her parents frankly, did not understand her and she did not understand them. It wasn't even the magic that was the problem, her parents loved magic. No the problem was that Hermione was what her father had always called an 'odd duck'.

Hermione had been entirely nonverbal until she was 3. She had broken that streak of silent treatment after her parents had taken her to numerous doctors all of which had found that there was nothing wrong with her. Her mother had despaired, wondering what she'd done wrong and Hermione had hugged her mother around the neck, sniffed at her rose scented soap and said quite clearly.

"Don't worry mummy, I was just looking for the right thing to say."

Hermione was not the sort of girl to bother with only having one first word. No her first words had to be strung beautifully together into a good proper sentence. She could still remember her frustration as a child, she hadn't like speaking until she knew she had just the right words to use. Sometimes it felt like she never ever had the right words no matter how hard she tried. Her parents had done their best, giving her books upon books upon books, letting her collect as many words and definitions as she could. If she needed to have the right words in order to speak then they would make sure she had them.

Hermione had grown up into a bookworm who preferred the structure of books and a never-ending quest for knowledge over interacting with people. She had tried a few times as a younger girl, stepping forward to share what she'd learnt about whatever her new interest was but people always just called her a know-it-all. Her parents tried to keep up, but they were dentists. Just normal people with normal interests.

They didn't understand half of what Hermione talked about by the time she was 7. At first it had been that Hermione didn't speak enough and then she spoke too much. Her parents adjusted best they could and they always got her the books she wanted. They tried to support her in her quest to make friends and they always comforted her when she inevitably failed. But they simply did not understand.

Going to Hogwarts had transformed Hermione in more ways than one. Discovering magic, and all that that entailed had given her the longest lasting obsession she'd ever had in her life. Before she would jump from subject to subject, picking up a book or two and devouring it before moving on. Now at Hogwarts, she couldn't even think about moving on. Magic was just too fascinating.

She'd hoped that Hogwarts would be filled with people like her. Perhaps magic was what made her this way. Perhaps she was like the birds she'd read about. How different birds had different calls and birds of different species couldn't understand the calls from each other. Maybe all her life she'd been calling out for her own flock, a call that fell on uncomprehending ears. It wouldn't be anyone's fault then that she hadn't made friends. They'd been speaking in different languages this whole time.

She had been, of course, disappointed. That became clear on the train ride over and her disastrous first conversation with Harry and Ron. Ron where she insulted his spell and told him about his dirty nose and then Harry where she pointed out that she'd read all about him like some creepy stalker. Hermione had called out an awkward birdsong full of enthusiasm about magic and the houses and the two boys she'd hoped would answer had stared at her, laps covered in candy wrappers and dirt on their noses.

She could still remember the exact words she'd read about Harry. The historians had wrote his birthday, his ancestry, and a bunch of incorrect assumptions about what had happened that night with You-Know-Who. Then again she remembered every word she'd ever read in her entire life. Up to and including her very first book, a Websters dictionary she'd found on her father's desk at the age of 3 and ¾.

The first words she'd ever read had, in fact, been a definition for the word 'a'.

It was clear then that it was not magic that made Hermione different. It was simply who she was. By Halloween of her first year she had resigned herself to loneliness. Ron had been right, she was a know-it-all. A bird with a flock of one. That knowledge was far more crushing at Hogwarts than it had been before because now she didn't even have her mother's rose scented soap and her father's soft hands to comfort her.

And then she'd been almost crushed by a troll's club.

She'd also told her first lie to an authority figure about five minutes after that, and for some reason that struck her as a far more significant occurrence. Perhaps because she'd only been attacked by a troll the once and she'd found herself lying to adults with far more frequency after that.

Either way. The most important thing from that night was that as she stood there, her 11 year old body shaking with adrenaline, two boys had stood by her side. (She could draw the chemical shape of the bonds of that hormone in her sleep still. She'd memorized all the hormones in the human body when she was 9.) Then once the adults had left, Ron had apologized for calling her a name and told her that she'd been right.

"And if I hadn't listened to you, we would've never defeated that troll!"

Hermione had, quite accidentally, made two friends. Friends who had, within a few weeks, learnt how to sing the same bird call as her. Harry had figured out quite quickly that Hermione never meant any harm when she corrected them. She just loved magic ever so much and she wanted to share what she knew with anyone who would listen. Ron grew to be able to tell the difference between when Hermione was just being herself and when she was genuinely annoyed. And she grew too. She learnt how to repeat the birdsong of her peers, Ron and Harry acting as her guides.

Her parents always remarked about how much she changed every time she went to school. Hermione couldn't bring herself to regret it. She was much happier now than she'd ever been before. Even with the war going on. She readjusted her sleeve one more time, her fingers brushing over the tattoo.

"Hermie?" Her mother called. "I need your passport."

"Here." Hermione said reaching into her pocket and pulling out the booklet. Her mother took it and handed it to the woman behind the custom's desk. Around them conversations from various muggles ebbed and flowed and Hermione wished she could cast a spell to muffle the noise. Crowds always grated against her ears.

"There we go." Her mother said.

They made it through customs easily enough. Crookshanks had passed inspection with minimal fussing. Her cat had been very polite in his carrier, she was very proud of him. Then they went towards the baggage claim. A majority of their things were being shipped over separately but Hermione had packed her most precious books in her trunk and insisted on having it flown over with them. Her parents had also insisted she pack clothes and they'd done the same in their own bags.

They went down a very long escalator and went to the left, her parents were looking for the right baggage carousel from which their things would be spit out. Hermione turned another page on her book.

"Hermione!"

Hermione's head snapped up from her book and she saw Harry standing there by the carousel labeled '9'. He was wearing clothing that fit and he looked well fed and rested. In fact, Hermione was quite sure, that Harry looked healthier and happier than she had ever seen him. And since she'd never forgotten what her friend had looked like each day she'd known him, not since the first time she saw him on that train, she knew exactly how important that was.

"HARRY!"

She rushed in between her parents and towards her best friend. Harry grinned, his bright green eyes literally glowing in the fluorescent lighting of the airport. She flung herself into her best friend's waiting arms, the pages of her book getting bent and wrinkled. Harry lifted her up effortlessly and hugged her, huffing a little as her very bushy hair covered his entire face. Harry spun them around slightly before lowering her so that her feet could touch the floor. She wasn't quite used to his new height yet.

"Your book." Harry said looking at the now slightly damaged pages in concern. "Here let me fix that."

He gently reached out and used a bit of magic to straighten out the pages. Hermione beamed at her friend.

"How are you?" Hermione asked, closing the book and sticking it under her arm for safekeeping.

"Good." Harry said and she could tell he meant it. "How about you? Was the flight okay?"

"It was loud." She said and Harry nodded needing no more explanation from her on her opinion of the flight.

"I hope you had a few good books at least." He said.

"Of course I did." What did he take her for? Harry grinned at her.

"Hermione?" Her father said. "Would you care to introduce us?"

"Right." Hermione said. "Mum, Dad. This is Harry Potter. Harry these are my parents. Dr. and Dr. Granger."

"Hullo." Harry said holding out his hand to shake her dad's hand. "It's nice to finally meet you."

Her dad took Harry's hand and shook it. His parents were studying Harry, the source of all the danger Hermione had ever been in for her entire life, with consternation. They were doing their best to be open minded she knew and she hoped Harry wouldn't take it personally.

"You're…uh dentists right?" Harry asked. "That's what Hermione told me."

"We are." Her mother said. "We've been running our practice for over 20 years now. Although we've had to shut down because of this…situation."

In another universe Hermione would have a very large argument about what her mother had called 'the situation' with her parents. Her parents had always been supportive of her friendship with Harry, even if they didn't understand it. Supportive until the war became real, until people started dying. They'd wanted her to stay home, to stay safe. They simply didn't understand why she had to be the one to stand against Voldemort. And Hermione would have refused to stay because she knew where she was meant to be. In that other world that argument would end with Hermione deciding to move her parents to Australia, memories hidden away, and running to the Burrow, ready to save the world with her two best friends.

But in this world, her mother's words only caused Hermione to frown a little as Harry shifted awkwardly on his feet.

"Right. Well, we should get our bags." Her dad said. "Who came to pick us up?"

"Uhm, me, my dad and Tony." Harry said. "They're outside, didn't want to cause a scene or anything. Once we get your bags, we'll head out to the car and then to the tower."

"How is your dad?" Hermione asked pulling her friend away from the awkward tension her parents had caused. "I know over the phone you said things were weird and if he's doing something you don't like then…"

"He's…it's really good, 'Mione. Even if it's weird sometimes, I still like it. He- He uh…" Harry cleared his throat a little and then spoke. "He calls me Starlight sometimes and it's nice. He always answers my questions no matter what they are and he never gets annoyed with me."

Hermione could have danced for joy. In all her wildest dreams she'd never even hoped that Loki would be good for Harry. She had just prayed that the god wouldn't hurt him. This was better, much better. Her friend sounded so happy, so at peace with himself as he talked about his dad. In front of them the carousel's conveyor belt began to move and suitcases slid down from a chute onto the belt. Her trunk appeared quite quickly and Harry grabbed it for her, not even wincing at the incredible weight of all of her favorite books.

Super strength would obviously come in handy when they went shopping for their school supplies in a month or so.

Once her parents found their suitcases and Hermione had taken Crookshanks from her dad, Harry led them out of the airport and towards where a limo was waiting. An actual limo.

"I'll get this into the back." Harry said.

"Let me help you there son. That trunk is a bit…" Her dad stopped talking when Harry easily hefted up the entire trunk, balancing it on one hand so that it was being held up at Harry's shoulder.

The door to the limo opened up and out slid the one and only god of mischief. He was wearing, not the customary armor leather she'd always seen him wearing on the telly, but instead a pair of jeans and a soft t-shirt. He looked like the pictures Hermione had seen of James Potter, wearing casual muggle clothing. The only difference being the hair style and eye color.

"Hello, you must be the Grangers." Loki said. "It's an honor, please, come on in. There are drinks and snacks inside if you need anything before we arrive at the tower."

It was all very fancy, Hermione blinked a little and made her way into the limo. She didn't expect to see Tony Stark just sitting there in an Armani suit, tapping away on his expensive phone. She kept her cool and carefully sat on the other bench, leaving room for Harry on one side of her. Her parents followed inside and immediately Tony put his phone down and started talking to her parents, welcoming them and explaining where they'd be staying and what he'd prepared for them.

Harry and Loki got in and Harry immediately took the seat Hermione had left for him. He grinned at her and then whispered.

"So what's so cool about your book?"

Hermione grinned and started talking, rapid-fire, about everything she'd learnt in the book. The words, excitedly spilling out of her and towards her eager audience. Harry listened easily, interrupting only when he didn't understand something, and she happily redefined and explained the concept. It wasn't often that they had time for Hermione to talk like this, but sometimes on a free Sunday at school, when there wasn't quidditch practice or something evil to thwart she got to lecture her friends to her heart's content.

Ron sometimes complained, but that was usually only in good fun. Ron and Hermione did so enjoy having a good, rousing argument with each other. He was only serious when they didn't have something for him to snack on. Harry only ever got annoyed when something was trying to kill him or otherwise destroy something he loved. But right then? Harry was relaxed, almost basking in Hermione's excited babbling. It was the perfect sort of day. The only thing that would make it better was if Ron were here.

"Hermione." Her mother said interrupting her almost mid-word. "Slow down, you're talking far too much. I'm sure your friend here is a bit overwhelmed. I'm sorry about her, sometimes she just gets into these zones where she…"

"There's nothing wrong with what she was doing." Harry interrupted, his eyes narrowing. "I asked Hermione about her book and I like listening to what she has to say."

"Well, but she can get a bit-"

"She has nothing to apologize for." Harry said very sternly. "She's my best friend and she's great just the way she is."

Her mother's lip wobbled a little and even her dad looked a bit teary. Hermione realized in that moment that her parents had been afraid that Harry wasn't really her friend. That Harry, like so many before him, was only using Hermione for her brain and didn't actually like her. They'd been trying to protect her.

"Oh…yes of course you're right." Her mum said, in a tone that made it clear she might as well have been saying 'oh what a darling boy this is'.

"Well." Loki said, interrupting them. "We're here. Let's get you all settled."

"Come on. 'Mione." Harry said. "I'll get your trunk and then I'll show you around, this place has a pool."

"It does?" Hermione asked.

"Yeah, it's great!"

"Go on, Hermie." Her mum said. "We'll find you later. I want to talk to Mr. Stark about what your internship is going to entail."

Hermione nodded and followed her friend. Ignoring the amused look on Harry's face as he mouthed the word 'Hermie'. He took her up an elevator and to a floor that had been designated for her and her parents. Apparently, Harry's room was a few floors up from her's.

"I stay with my dad and uncle. I've got my own room and everything. Jarvis can you show us a map of the tower so I can point things out to Hermione?"

"Of course sir." A smooth slightly robotic voice said from nowhere, Hermione jumped a little.

"Who is that?"

"It's Jarvis."

"I am Mr. Stark's personal AI. It is my job to meet the daily needs of the inhabitants of Avengers tower."

"An AI?" Hermione squealed. Before spouting out fifteen different questions to Jarvis about his capabilities and programming.

(She'd had an obsession with AIs when she was 10 for about 5 months.)

"Perhaps you should direct these queries to Mr. Stark?" Jarvis suggested. "He is with your parents in the penthouse."

"Let's go Harry! I can't believe this! A real Artificial Intelligence! Don't you know what this means Harry?"

"I imagine you're going to tell me." Hermione rolled her eyes and told him about the wonderful implications for the world of science as they went back into the elevator and up to the penthouse. The elevator opened up silently and Harry led her down a hallway towards the living room. They paused at the sound of arguing.

"My daughter is not going to have anything to do with this damn war!" Her dad said. "She's a child."

"I understand that and I'm not suggesting we put her in the front lines." Loki said. "But you cannot ignore reality."

"The reality," Her mother snapped. "is that my baby girl has been put in near death situation after situation because of her association with your son. And now you're suggesting that we put her into further harms way? This is a job for adults, for trained wizards and witches. Not a child, not my dear sweet Hermie."

Hermione frowned. She wasn't a dear sweet Hermie. Not anymore. No she was the girl who'd lit teachers on fire, who'd locked a reporter in a glass jar for months, who'd started an illegal underground fighting club/army, who'd gotten a corrupt ministry official trampled by centaurs. Dear sweet Hermie wouldn't have broken Draco Malfoy's nose and she wouldn't have broken into a government building to fight terrorists.

That was not who Hermione was. It wasn't who she'd ever been. Her parents still didn't understand. She listened as both her mother and father argued that Hermione was too delicate to fight, too kind. Hermione wasn't kind. She was proactive. If she saw an injustice in the world then she did everything in her power to stand up against it. Whether it was the unfair execution of a hippogriff or the enslavement of house elves. And when it came to defending the people she loved? Hermione wasn't kind, no Hermione was ruthless.

She stomped into the room, Harry at her heels like a protective shadow.

"I absolutely forbid my daughter from fighting." Her mother said.

"Mum." Hermione said causing everyone to look at them.

"Hermie!" Her mother greeted before seeing her glower. "What's wrong sweetheart?"

"What's wrong?" She asked. "What's wrong is that you think you can choose this for me!"

"Now, Hermione." Her dad began.

"No dad." She said. "This is my choice and I can't not fight. I have to."

"We need to trust in the adults now darling." Her mother said. "The magical government will…"

"There's nobody to trust but ourselves!" Hermione cried, entirely disillusioned. "Dumbledore is a manipulator who will lie and abuse anyone he can in the name of the Greater Good. The Minister of Magic lied to the public for an entire year just so that he wouldn't have to deal with the war. Professor Umbridge tortured my best friend for months because he was brave enough to tell the truth! The adults were the one who let all of the Death Eaters off after the end of the first war. It was them that let corruption and evil fester! And I am tired of lying to myself about it!"

Her parents were staring at her as if they'd never seen her before in their lives and perhaps they hadn't, not really. Loki and Tony Stark were both looking at her too, but with something more like awe than fear in their eyes.

"All this time I've been telling myself that I can trust the adults, the professors at my school and the minister but I can't! I can't! No one can! They only serve themselves, they don't care about who they hurt to get what they want! You raised me to believe in the law and in authority but you were wrong! I need to fight, I need to stand up for this world because the adults never will. They had over a decade to make a change, they had four years of warning that Tom Riddle was reactivating and they did nothing! The government is corrupt! The Order is useless! All we have to hope for is right there!"

She motioned dramatically to her friend, to Harry. The person who'd wrestled a troll and stuck his wand up its nose for her on Halloween night. The friend she'd follow anywhere, no matter what.

"I know what I need to do, mom dad. I know that I met Harry all those years ago because…because we needed each other and because the world needs us. I've been fighting in this war for a year now! Training and studying for it!"

"Hermione Jean Granger. You've done no such thing!"

"I have!" She said. "And I used magic to shrink and straighten my teeth. I got a tattoo. I formed an illegal army of children with Harry as it's general! I've broken into the Forbidden Section of the library more times than I can count! I've lied and broken every school rule I can think of because if no one else is going to stand up for this world then I will!"

Hermione's hair stood up on end, like a lion's mane. That's what she felt like right then, like a lion. She was finally the Gryffindor she'd claimed to be for all these years.

"But you're just a child."

"I'm needed." Hermione said simply. "I have brains and an encyclopedic knowledge of everything I've ever read. I have a wand and I know where I'm meant to be and what I'm meant to do. It doesn't matter that I'm young. I'd rather fight now, young and with my friends by my side than wait and lose anyone else to this war. You can't choose this for me, I already did."

"But Hermie. How can you know that you…"

"You raised me to know right from wrong mum." Hermione said. "And I did the math. Harry needs me to end this war, I know he does. If I don't help him, if I hide? That'd be wrong."

"You did math?" Harry interrupted.

She'd done the math again and again and again as a 13 year old. Sitting in Arithmancy and determining how likely it would be that her friends would survive without her.

"It's not important." Hermione said. "Just know that your odds aren't great without me."

"Oh I already knew that."

Her parents looked heartbroken and so, so very frightened. Hermione stepped forward and took their hands in her own.

"It's the right thing to do and I'm not going to hesitate." Hermione said. "I promise you, I'm not going to let myself get killed. I'll train and study and practice whatever I have to. No matter what happens, I'm going to be okay."

It wasn't a promise she could actually keep. and she'd never been one for divination but she still meant it with all her heart. Her mother sobbed and her dad pulled her into a hug. Hermione hugged them back, whispering that she loved them, and she knew they worried but they had to trust her. Eventually she pulled back from the hug and her parents looked at one another. It was the same look they'd had when she'd begged to go to Hogwarts.

"Fine." Her dad said looking over at Loki. "But you'd better get her some armor or something. A helmet at least."

"That." Loki said, sizing Hermione up and down. "I can do."