MOP
Harry Potter and the Myriad of Possibilities: Neophytes
Chapter 6: Hermione Granger
Disclaimer: This is solely a not-for-profit fan activity and does not intend to infringe on copyrights held by Time Warner, DC Comics, Bloomsbury et al, and JK Rowling. Any characters that are original to this work remain the property of the author.
A/N: The Myriad of Possibilities Series primarily uses the background from the Harry Potter books but some elements and scenes have been borrowed from other sources – including the movies, Pottermore and my own headcanon – that will be covered where they fit into the narrative. The timeline of the DC Comics elements borrows heavily from Young Justice (2011) and may adapt elements and characters from the comics and several additional other media instalments – including but not limited to Smallville (2001) and Superman and Lois (2021) – and relocates events of Young Justice to the Eighties and early Nineties rather than the New Tens and Twenties as screened and includes several 'legacy' and original characters as a result. Any other recognisable characters belong to their copyright holders.
A/N: There are two 'timeline mistakes' in this chapter, these are intentional and part of this AU.
A/N: Thanks to Jon and 6f5e4d for their help on this chapter.
Smallville.
October 18, 14:56 CDT,
Team Year Nine.
"Have you got any plans for the weekend?" One of their classmates asked Lucy and the Langs as they packed up at the end of spelling class.
Hank nodded. "Aunt Lois has been asked to cover the Federal City Ballet's performance at the Siegel Music Hall tomorrow afternoon, so as usual she wants me along as 'cover'."
Tim – a photography and journalism buff who already had a credit to his name in the Smallville Torch despite only being a middle-school sophomore – paused and made a face. "Do you…?"
"Anissa's busy with family stuff," Hank admitted, cutting across the other boy. "But I've already asked Linda if she wants to sub in."
"I do," Linda confirmed, as she picked up her bag and led the group out of the classroom.
"Better you than me," said Lucy as she sped up to flank the other girl, missing Tim's sigh and resigned slump. "I like dressage, but human dancing doesn't really do it for me."
But Hank didn't miss it. "Are you okay?"
"Yeah, it's fine," the Asian-American teen assured him. "It's just… your aunt is…"
"A major trouble magnet?" offered Lucy, flippantly.
Hank made a face. "I should probably defend Aunt Lois, but to be honest… you're right," he conceded. "And with my history… we could be in for an 'interesting' weekend."
Lucy gave him a look but said nothing.
Metropolis.
October 19, 14:10 EDT.
Sometimes I hate being right, Hank thought as a dark-robed, hooded woman flanked by several goons walked out onto the stage instead of the ballet company for the second encore.
The audience – mostly veteran Metropolitans – quickly realized what was going on and began to panic.
"SILENCE!" demanded the hooded woman, as a wave of energy emanated from her and washed over the audience in the stalls and then moved upwards to the balcony.
Realising what was happening, Hank quickly drew on all his mediation training and was able to wrench himself out of the hypnotic stupor that began to claw at him. As he looked around, he noted that his aunt was fully in the grip of the woman's hypnosis but a soft, red glow lit his cousin's face. "Linda," he hissed urgently.
She blinked twice and looked in his direction. (What?) she asked, slipping back into the backwards German of a few months ago.
The amulet must have muted itself to shield her, Hank thought. I didn't think it could do that… He shook his head vigorously. One thing at a time… focus on getting out of here and getting help. He reached out and took his cousin's hand, drawing her out of her seat and behind the sill of the balcony.
(That should give us a bit of cover,) he whispered.
(What about Aunt Lois?) asked Linda in the same tone.
(She's fully in the grip of whatever that woman is doing,) Hank replied. (We're on our own.)
Linda nodded, then the two children dropped onto hands and knees and began to creep towards the stairs, but a loud squeak broke the silence and then loud voices echoed from below seconds later. (I think they heard her. We need to get out of here as well.)
Hank swore, then nodded and stood up, pulling the girl out of her seat and bundling her into the stairway, staggering all the way to the stair and up to the door, with Linda bringing up the rear.
"What's going on?" demanded the light-brown-skinned girl, her curly mop of hair shaking as she spoke.
"I'm not sure," Hank admitted. "The woman is clearly a meta, probably a speech-based power of some sort… given that we're in Metropolis, probably Intergang or an affiliate."
"What do they want?"
"Nothing we're going to like," Hank replied darkly and fished in a pocket for his phone, dialling as he brought it up to his ear. "There's no signal…"
(Jammer?) suggested Linda as he put the phone away again.
(Probably,) he agreed, then turned back to the other girl. "We need to get outside. If they've put up a jammer, chances are that they're guarding the public exits. I think there's a service door by the first aid station though. They might not know about that one."
The curly-haired girl nodded. "The first aid room is down this way," she told them and set off. "My cousin Dawn is the one of the dancers, she mentioned it when she was showing Dad and I around."
"I guess we follow her," observed Linda, back to English as her amulet dimmed.
"I haven't got a better plan… have you?" asked Hank but was interrupted as two armed thugs appeared at the top of the stairs and fired at them. Hank threw up an arm and pointed at them, fingers splayed. "Spegulmuro!"
A shimmering, mirror-like shield sprang into view for a moment, intercepted the first shooter's blast, then shattered, knocking Hank off his feet.
"Okay, that didn't work as well as I hoped," Hank groaned, then sat up and considered their attackers. "Plan C, I guess… Magia Fulmo!"
Two bolts of lightning crackled from his outstretched hands and raced across the space, striking them both in their chest plates.
Hank wavered, but Linda grabbed him and was able to steady him. "We need to get out of here," she insisted, then glanced at the other girl, beckoning her back towards them. "Can you…"
"Hermione Granger," replied the other girl and moved to grasp Hank's other arm. "On three?"
Linda nodded. "One, two… three!" she said, and then pulled, bringing her cousin to his feet with Hermione's help.
More muffled footfalls began to echo up the stairway.
"Can you move?" Linda asked her cousin.
"We'll make it work!" Hermione declared.
The two cousins nodded their agreement and the trio staggered away from the stairway as fast as they could manage.
Smallville.
September 4, 00:12 CDT.
Team Year Eleven.
An upstairs window of the ranch house slid open and a slim figure stepped out onto the kitchen roof, then closed the window and dropped to the ground. Once she landed, she turned towards the boundary fence and ran towards it, gliding over it without breaking a stride and entered one of the barns on the neighbouring property.
Star City.
September 3, 22:16 PDT.
Artemis glanced her way as she stepped out of the Zeta Tube into the Vault and crossed to join the group.
"What's the emergency?" Linda asked as she moved towards the group.
"Earlier to today we received a tip from Interpol that a suspected Kobra safehouse in Geneva had been reactivated," Artemis replied. "Guardian, Katana and Peacemaker were deployed to investigate and were caught in an explosion when the bases' self-destruct activated."
"Are they okay?" Roy asked, which the others echoed after a beat.
"They will be," Artemis replied. "Guardian and Peacemaker reacted fast enough to shield Katana from the blast and their armours were able to take the brunt of the explosion. They'll be out of hospital in a few days, but someone needs to take over the investigation."
"Which is us," said Eddie.
Artemis nodded. "When the Swiss state investigators dug through the wreckage, they found one of the computers and were able to recover fragments of a couple of files pointing to Kobra's next target being in Vlatava."
At that moment, the safehouse's main console beeped and Artemis activated it, revealing a brown-haired woman who Linda identified after a moment as the Vlatavan Prime Minister. "Madame Prime Minister, my squad is ready to go if you need us."
"Thank you, Tigress. My investigator believes that they may be targeting the international trade symposium."
"We came to the same conclusion, ma'am," Artemis confirmed.
" As you know, there were many that felt that my country did not deserve such honour and would use any trouble to have it taken from us."
"I understand, ma'am," Artemis confirmed. "We'll be as discrete as possible."
"The symposium opens to the press in less than two hours," continued the woman. "And then opens the public on Monday."
"The last member of my squad arrived just before you called Madam Prime Minister," Artemis told her. "We're on our way."
"My investigator will meet you at the Zeta terminal and provide whatever support you need," said the other woman. "Stasny out."
The monitor clicked off.
"Let's go, Gamma," said Artemis. "I missed out on the last dance with Kobra and I'm kinda looking forward to this one."
"Recognized, Tigress B-Zero-Seven; Arsenal B-Two-Four; Halo B-Three-One; Red Devil B-Three-Nine, Raven B-Four-Zero."
Vladivostok,
September 4, 07:19 CEST.
A vaguely familiar-looking man was waiting for them when they exited the Zeta Tube into the dedicated room under the royal palace. "Adam, you're working with us on this?"
He nodded, then picked up a tablet, a small envelope and several bundles of clothing from a nearby desk and passed them to her. "I've got your covers and necessary all set up."
"Well, Perdita said it was urgent and we Nielsens will do anything for her."
"Arsenal, Halo… you've got the private security company covering the event," Artemis said, handing bundles of clothing and passes to the pair. "Arsenal, you're on the interior with Adam… Halo, you're on the exterior, you'll also be our primary shield if Kobra decides to go with a direct assault."
They nodded and moved towards side alcoves to change.
Artemis started to hand a pass to Eddie. "Have you got your Glamour Charm?"
"Ready to go, Boss," he confirmed, extracting the ruby-like gem from a pocket and slipped it on, transforming into a shaggy-haired white man.
"You've got the conference centre's technical and janitorial staff," Artemis told him. "Your knowledge of film industry should help you fit in there."
Eddie nodded and slipped on the pass over his Goode World Studios t-shirt.
Finally, she turned to Linda. "We've got the conference attendees themselves," she declared. "I've talked to Walter Steele over at Q-Core, and he's agreed that I can post up at their stall. You can come in with me, but once we're out of sight I want you to go invisible and mingle."
Linda nodded agreement as she slipped her pass around her neck.
"Keep a sharp lookout and call in any problems or concerns," Artemis reminded her squad. "Perdita wants this done quickly and quietly… and frankly in the interests of public safety if nothing else, so do I."
"We've got this covered," Eddie declared, and the rest of the squad echoed his sentiment a moment later.
North London.
September 5, 0700 BST.
Hermione's alarm woke her from a dream that faded from her mind in the seconds it took to silence the alarm. She slipped out of bed, put on her dressing gown, stuck her feet into a pair of slippers and then padded quickly down the stairs to the kitchen.
Her mother was there, her father was not.
"Where's Daddy?" Hermione asked as she helped herself to some muesli.
"I'm sorry, darling," replied her mother. "But Wendell had to go into the surgery, one of his patients called in with possible pericoronitis. So, it'll just be the two of us."
Hermione nodded. It would've been nice to have both her parents there to see her off, but she'd realised from an early age that sometimes their patients' needs came ahead of her own.
After breakfast, she headed upstairs and washed up. Then she changed into casual clothes for the journey, and within an hour of waking she was in the back of her parents' Mondeo as it was heading towards London with her mum at the wheel.
Central London.
1025 BST
Hermione had her door open as soon as her parents' Mondeo slid to a halt and was waiting on the pavement with her trunk beside her by the time her mother had got herself sorted out and got out of the car. Monica Granger smiled at her daughter, then locked the car and they walked towards King's Cross Station.
After stopping at one of the ticket booths so that her mother could get a platform ticket, they passed through to the western concourse easily enough, where logically they should have been able to find Platform Nine and Three Quarters. Unfortunately, there they hit a slight snag.
There was a Platform Nine and a Platform Ten, but no Platform Nine and Three Quarters.
"Did Professor McGonagall say how to get onto the platform?" asked her mother, as she glanced dubiously around the station's western concourse. "Because I can't see it."
"I can't either," agreed Hermione. "So, it's not just hidden magically like the Leaky Cauldron."
Her mother nodded.
Hermione paused to think for a moment, trying to remember everything that the professor had said. "She something about the wall between the platforms…"
"That would make sense," agreed her mother, as she continued to glance around.
A moment later, Hermione spotted a trio – two women and a boy about her age – heading across the course. Something about the group was familiar, but the first thing that struck her was the owl cage that sat on top of the trolley that the boy was wheeling across the concourse.
"Mum!" Hermione hissed and indicated the trio.
Her mother immediately realized what she'd been, nodded and trailed Hermione as her daughter trotted over to the group.
As Hermione got closer, the sense that that she knew the boy and one of the women grew stronger, until she heard him speak and one of the women refer to him as 'Hank'.
"Hank!" she called and trotted towards the group, her mother following in her wake. As she reached the halfway point, the boy turned and smiled, then stepped towards her. "Hermione!"
The two children hugged briefly, then separated as their parents joined them. "A friend of yours, Hermione?" asked her mother, a little teasingly.
Hermione broke away from Hank, blushing slightly. "Mother!" she exclaimed. "This is Hank Lang, he and his cousin got me away from Intergang when they tried to take Dawn and the ballet company hostage."
Her mother smiled. "Thank you for that, Hank."
"That's fine, Mrs Granger," Hank assured her. "It wasn't the first time I've been in similar situations."
"Much to my displeasure," noted his mother. "I assume that you're heading the same platform we are…. Nine and Three Quarters?"
Both Grangers nodded. "Do you know how to get in?" Hermione asked. "Professor McGonagall mentioned it, but with everything else…"
Hank frowned. "No, Hagrid didn't mention it either," he searched around hopefully, looking for clues.
A moment later, Hermione spotted a stocky boy about her own age with blond hair accompanied by an elderly woman with a vulture-topped hat walking towards one of the brick pillars. "Mum, Hank… over there!" she whispered urgently, pointing towards the pair, who disappeared into the wall a few seconds later.
"Huh?" exclaimed her mother. "That's seems simple enough."
Hermione nodded, "Let's go."
Her mother and the Langs echoed her agreement and followed her across the concourse and within moments, they passed through the hidden barrier onto the packed platform sign-posted 'Hogwarts Express, Eleven o'clock'.
Hermione glanced around, taking in the wrought-iron archway behind her where the barrier had been, with the words Platform Nine and Three-Quarters on it. Smoke from the scarlet engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.
The first few carriages were already packed with students, some hanging out of the window to talk to their families, some fighting over seats, so Hermione pushed her cart off down the platform in search of an empty seat. She and her mother pressed on through the crowd until found an empty compartment towards the back of the train. They were trying to lift the trunk up the steps into the carriage when a tall, burly boy of about sixteen with chiselled features, dark hair, and bright grey eyes looked down at them from inside the train. A shiny purple and gold badge with a badger and the letter 'P' on it was pinned to his chest. "Can I help?"
"Certainly…" replied her mother and Hank's echoed the sentiment..
"Cedric Diggory, ma'ams," replied the boy, bending to pick up the trunk and heaving it onto the train, then turned to Hermione who had followed him onboard and indicated the closest compartment. "Is in here, okay?"
"That'll be fine," Hermione agreed, and in a moment her trunk was tucked away in a corner of the compartment, and Cedric was heading back to help Hank with his luggage.
"I'll let you say your goodbyes," Cedric told them, once Hank's luggage was also properly stowed . "Maybe I'll see you in Hufflepuff."
"Maybe," agreed Hermione politely, as the older boy turned and walked back up the train. She returned to the door to say goodbye to her mother.
"He seems like a nice boy," observed her mother. "Which house is he in?"
"Hufflepuff," replied Hermione. "I doubt we'll be in the same house… I'm aiming for Gryffindor or Ravenclaw."
"Well, which ever house you end up in, try and make a couple of friends at least," her mother urged her.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I try, Mum. But it's not always easy."
"I'll try and help her, Mrs Granger," Hank offered.
Whatever her mother would have said in reply was drowned out by the loud screech of a train's whistle and a yell of "All aboard, all aboard!"
"Goodbye, Mum!" shouted Hermione as the train's doors slammed shut by themselves, with Hank echoing her words.
"Goodbye!" replied their mothers, waving as the train as the train began to move.
The two teens stayed at the window waving back as the train eased out of the platform and headed into the first corner outside the station.
"How's Linda?" Hermione asked as she settled down. "I was a little surprised that she wasn't there to see you off."
"She's fine," Hank assured her. "She was going to come over for the weekend, but something came up with her 'extracurriculars'."
Hermione nodded, then reached for her bag to get a book. Hank took the hint and retrieved a book of his own and they settled into an companionable silence which was broken only twice, initially a little after midday by an elderly witch with the snack trolley and then when the round-faced, chubby boy who had accidentally guided them to the platform earlier put his head in the compartment, introduced himself as 'Neville' and asked them if they had seen a toad.
"No, I haven't," Hermione told him.
"Me neither," Hank confirmed, then glanced at Hermione. "Should we help him look?"
Hermione nodded as Neville broke into a smile.
20:25 BST.
A voice echoed through the train: "We will be reaching Hogwarts in five minutes' time. Please leave your luggage on the train, it will be taken to the school separately."
The trio rose and Hank lead the way out into the crowd thronging the corridor as the train slowed right down and finally stopped. People pushed their way toward the door and out on to a tiny, dark platform.
Hermione shivered in the cold night air, then a lamp came bobbing over the heads of the students, and she heard a booming voice call out of the buzz of the crowd. "Firs' years! Firs' years over here!" boomed the figure, whose big hairy face towered over the sea of heads. "All right there, Hank? C'mon, follow me… any more firs' years? Mind yer step, now! Firs' years follow me!"
Noticing that the man had glanced at Hank, she paused. Why did he call him 'Hank'… could he be Hank? she pondered but decided to hold her silence for the time being, deciding that she had enough to occupy her mind as slipping and stumbling, she and the rest of the new students followed the giant down what seemed to be a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Hermione thought there must be thick trees there. Nobody spoke much. Neville sniffed once or twice.
"Ye' all get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "Jus' round this bend here."
There was a loud "Oooooh!"
The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great black take. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side — its windows sparkling in the starry sky — was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.
"No more 'n four to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore. A lanky redhead followed her, Neville and Hank into one of the boats. "Everyone in?" shouted the giant who had a boat to himself. "Right then… FORWARD!"
The fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.
"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads and the little boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a kind of underground harbour, where they clambered out onto rocks and pebbles.
They clambered up a passageway in the rock after the giant's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.
They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge, oak front door, the giant raised a gigantic fist and knocked three times.
The door swung open at once. Professor McGonagall, looking stern and imperious in emerald-green robes stood there.
"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.
"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here," she said as she pulled the door wide. The entrance hall was so big you could have fit her whole house in it. The stone walls were lit with flaming torches like the ones at Gringotts, the ceiling was too high to make out, and a magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.
They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Hermione could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right — the rest of the school must have beaten them there — but the professor showed the first years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. The teens crowded in, standing rather closer together than they would usually have done, peering about nervously.
"Welcome to Hogwarts," said the professor. "Now, in a few moments, you will pass through these doors and join your classmates. But before you can take your seats, you must be sorted into your houses. They are Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Now while you're here, your house will be like your family. Your triumphs will earn you house points. Any rule breaking, and you will lose points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points will be awarded the house cup."
"Trevor!" exclaimed Neville and lunged forward to grab his toad that had escaped again and was sitting at the professor's feet.
Professor McGonagall stared down at him, prompting Neville to murmur a quiet apology and retreat back to Hermione's side, his face beet-red with embarrassment.
To Hermione's relief, Professor McGonagall continued without comment. "The Sorting Ceremony will begin momentarily," she announced and then turn and entered the doorway that the sounds of students were coming from.
The group was silent for a moment, then a nasty-looking boy with short, blond hair stepped out of the crowd and spoke up. "It's true then, what they're saying on the train…?" he asked, scanning their group and focusing on Hank. "… Hank has come to Hogwarts."
This started many of the students into whispered muttering.
"Hank?" asked the blond. When Hank nodded, he continued. "This is Crabbe and Goyle. And I'm Malfoy... Draco Malfoy."
When the redhead snickered, he rounded on him and snarled, "Think my name's funny, do you? No need to ask yours… Red hair, and a hand-me-down robe… You must be a Weasley."
Clearly not one of the shining lights of the year, thought Hermione to herself.
"Well, you'll soon find that some wizarding families are better than others, Potter," continued the blond, and extended his hand. "You don't want to go making friends with the wrong sort. I can help you there."
Hermione glanced Hank, also apparently Hank, the famous Boy-Who-Lived, as he considered the blond but ignored the hand, "Thank you for the offer, Malfoy," he said in a tone that seemed a little forcefully polite to Hermione's ear. "However, my family has always emphasized that I should come to my own conclusions and not rely on the opinions of others."
Malfoy frowned at that, but any further response was forestalled by Professor McGonagall's return and he faded back into the crowd.
"We're ready for you now," McGonagall announced. "Follow me."