Any sound was foreign in the mirror dimension. Reflections were just that, the projection of an image. So nothing made any sound unless she stood very close to the source or interacted directly with it, like breaking a plate, and even then, it was off, like a cheap sound effect. It was even more obvious when she isolated herself atop Stark Tower where her own breathing became deafening to her, maybe because it was a real sound and not a cheap copy. Another reason she was glad she had become so good at projecting herself into the real world to escape it all. She felt less lonely spending a little time there every few days, even if it made the time in between her visits that much more difficult to bear.

That was why she was so startled when she heard a commotion in the mirror dimension loud enough to break her focus and bring her partially out of the real one.

People.

That's all she had time to write as an explanation to Steve and Bucky. She knew they'd understand. People. Someone else was here in this dimension with her, and she would do anything to interact with someone else. Anyone else. Even The Bald One. Someone solid and warm, who could hear her voice and reassure her she was real too. Loneliness aside, she was starting to feel like she was just another reflection the longer she stayed here. Maybe a reflection that had gone a little mad and thought it was real.

So she ran to the windows, her focus shifting from projecting herself in the real world to finding the source of all the noise in this one. From this far up on top of Tony's building, it was actually quite easy to spot the point of origin of the disturbance because a few blocks away, everything had folded onto itself, much like she had done when she first set foot in this dimension. Hermione couldn't possibly make things much worse over there by using magic, and this could be her only way to escape, because if people had come in, they would no doubt go out. A door, an exit, that was all she needed, so she apparated right to the middle of the disturbance.

The place was so fragmented it looked as bare as a desert, which was a relief because it was so much easier to find whoever had provoked this mess. Surprisingly, it was not The Bald One, but two men, running really fast up the side of a building which was now standing horizontally somehow. As her luck would have it, they were running away from her.

"Damnit," she muttered, because she couldn't apparate too close to them now at the risk of hurting them.

On the other hand, how else was she supposed to follow? The shifting sidewalk under her feet was already making her feel sea sick, and she wasn't a fast runner to begin with. She couldn't afford to lose sight of them though, because given the glimpse she'd had of their strange clothes, they had to be related to the Bald One in some way, so chances were they were not prisoners like her and knew how to get out.

Her best chance was apparating, but ahead of them this time and some good distance after the direction they were headed to avoid hurting them, and that was supposing they would keep running in a straight line. It was still her best shot.

One loud crack later, the fabric of reality folded under her feet upon reappearing, and the two men almost barrelled into her. And here she thought she'd given herself a wide margin of error. How fast had they been running? Were all laws of physics optional in this dimension? How she hated this place with a passion…

"Who are you?" the dark skinned man demanded, striking a defensive pose she didn't want to trigger.

She wasn't here to fight, but to plead her case. However, before she could answer, Hermione realized a bit too late she had landed in the middle of a fight between two factions, when several more people crested the other side of the building and skidded to a halt near them. They conjured invisible blades she could just make out shimmering in the air around them. Were they wizards?! She thought she was the only one here? Well, she supposed Steve and Bucky had found a sort-of-witch, and these guys conjured magic without using wands or spells making them sort-of-wizards? Wizards-adjacent? Whatever they called themselves, she probably shouldn't be that surprised. She should be relieved, in fact, that magic users were still out there, or she would have been if the conjured weapons weren't slicing the air, coming right at her.

The man who had questioned her identity seconds ago lunged her way, covering her with his body to shield her as they rolled on the ground, while the other one stood his ground, conjuring a very pretty, but tiny, golden shield which parried several attacks before dissipating in a mist of golden sparks. He conjured it again, but she knew it wouldn't be enough for the next wave of attacks.

Her sudden arrival had distracted them, giving the other guys, the bad guys she decided, the upper hand. Her newfound enemies had black masks covering their eyes, which, upon closer inspection, actually looked like a bad case of spattergroit, making them look even more villainous. Hermione had to atone for putting the two men protecting her in a bad spot, only now realizing she had hindered their flight. They were outnumbered after all, three against two. Well, now, they were even, she decided.

Hermione flung her hands up, a larger shield springing up all around the three of them as another wave of magical blades left cracks in her protective bubble. Thankfully, the shield held up, their opponents circling it like hungry hyaenas.

"Seriously, who are you?" the dark skinned man asked again, his breath tickling her neck he was so close.

Hermione squirmed in his arms and he immediately let go, helping her back up instead.

"I just want to get out of here," she said, hating how whiny she sounded, but she'd had more than enough of this nonsensical hellhole.

"We were just about to do the same. Strange?" he asked.

Hermione puzzled over why he found it so strange to want to leave, when the other man's golden shield dissipated and he began twirling his fingers instead, more golden sparks appearing, swirling- She knew this spell. She had seen the Bald One open up a portal in the same way, only faster.

As luck would have it, the world shifted again, breaking under their feet, and the three of them were torn apart, along with her shield, before the portal could be opened. The three masked bad guys separated, targeting each of them.

In some weird attempt at fairness, her opponent was the only other woman. With a sneer, her opponent conjured another invisible blade, yet Hermione could still feel its edge when it sliced the air inches from her throat.

Knowing it was useless trying to talk her way out of this fight, because using reason against a fanatic was like pissing against the wind like Jacques used to say, Hermione stupefied her. It worked… for a few seconds, but the other woman seemed to absorb her spell before she resumed her frantic stabbing. Hermione stumbled back at her unexpected release and subsequent attack, then fell, having not noticed that the solid ground under her feet suddenly dropped, having folded at a ninety degrees angle. Had she ever mentioned how much she hated this dimension?

Thankfully, she didn't fall too far, caught by a wandering block of stone which morphed into a pretty geometric pattern under her feet, then melded into another block carrying the dark skinned man, and then another carrying his companion. Her relief at being reunited with them again was short lived, and Hermione groaned when a yellow hooded figure appeared, causing the two men to glance at her, the dark skinned one in worry, the other in amusement.

Then the three bad guys stepped onto the ever-growing platform, easy as you please, oozing evil intent. Hermione didn't have a clue what was going on, why or what they were fighting for, and did her best to stay out of the way now that the Bald One was here. She hid behind the two men she had met earlier and who she trusted more than any of the others. All she wanted was a way out of this hellish dimension, back into the sane world, back to Steve and Bucky.

She wasn't a coward. She simply could not fight these people, not at the level the Bald One was now fighting them. Even the two men who had tried to join in had been slapped down like bothersome flies. Despite her personal dislike of her jailor, Hermione had to admit she was formidable, and that she had no chance against her. The Bald One's magic, if that's what it was, was too strong and quick, too strange and unpredictable. No, Hermione was going to have to be sneaky to escape, spy for an opportunity, and run.

The Bald One appeared to have the upper hand for most of the confrontation, but in a split second, because she was overconfident maybe, she got stabbed right in the guts. Just like that, it was over. Then, as if that wasn't bad enough, she was kicked through a portal, her two companions jumping into it after her before it closed. It all happened in the blink of an eye. Hermione had been waiting for such an opportunity, and yet, she was so shocked that she missed it, her only way back home.

Worse, she was now stuck alone with the masked fanatics. Their leader tilted his head her way, making her freeze like a deer in a monster truck's headlights. She could practically feel the evil shrouding him, his murderous intent suffocating. He was somehow worse than a horcrux, so Hermione bolted, without conscious thought or movement, only fear, apparating back to Steve, because Steve was safety and protection.

It was a terrible idea though, because Stark Tower folded beyond recognition, to the point she couldn't even recognize it, but at least the masked fanatics hadn't followed her there. She waited, and waited, but they must have left by now as night fell over the mirror dimension…

Exhausted, Hermione finally let her guard down and fell asleep.

Days passed. Hermione had all the pains in the world navigating the folded world to find food, water, and shelter that wouldn't give her motion sickness. She wondered if this place was like the Room of Requirements, in that it couldn't reset to a normal aspect as long as someone, namely herself, remained inside, because the first time she'd been brought here, everything was so normal, she hadn't even noticed she was in a mirror dimension. Now though, with Stark Tower as it was, she couldn't even see Steve and Bucky.

More worryingly, The Bald One who had imprisoned her here might be dead after a wound like that, meaning she wouldn't be letting her go. Ever. Her only chance to escape was if one of the two men she had been following came back for her… if they even remembered she was here in the first place that is, or if they realized she hadn't managed to jump through the portal like they had. But would they even care? They didn't know who she was or why she was there in the first place… And the longer she waited, the more she feared she was stuck here for good, and no amount of magic was getting her out either.

"You're Lady Liberty, aren't you?" A deep baritone asked, startling Hermione out of her slumber.

Hermione rubbed her eyes, the book she had fallen asleep on tumbling out of her lap. It was one of the men she'd run after, leaning against the wall, wearing the same blue foreign clothes with the red cape. More of a costume than clothes in truth. His friend had looked a little less ridiculous in earthy tones.

"I thought I recognized you from somewhere," he continued, not seeming to need her input. "Tell me, why would the Ancient One trap Lady Liberty in the Mirror Dimension?"

Hermione mentally congratulated herself on being spot on about the nature and name of this dimension, then wondered if she should deny her status as a prisoner since he was a disciple of her jailor, or if she should just tell the truth. Would he even believe her if she said she had stranded herself into this dimension by mistake? He seemed to already know who she was though, so maybe she'd gain sympathy points by being honest. That's what Steve would do. However, the Bald One herself had been cryptic about imprisoning her, not giving a real reason for the sentence, so what could she say?

"I'm not sure myself…"

"No?"

He raised a brow, stepped closer to loom over her. Intimidation? Fine. Hermione made herself look smaller, like a little mouse, like she wasn't a threat at all.

"She thought I was a threat," Hermione admitted.

"To whom?"

Hermione shrugged.

"A generic threat? Like I said, I'm not exactly sure myself."

A resigned look crossed his features. His fingers traced over his goatee as he thought, looking less on the offensive than before.

"The Ancient One was a complicated woman…"

Was? Oh… so she had died after all. Hermione wouldn't pretend to be saddened by the loss after the way she had treated her, but it was a waste of potential given how powerful she had been.

"I won't pretend to understand her motivations," the man continued. "She didn't have time to explain about you, nor did she share her plans with anyone…" he paused, shoulders sagging as if another burden had been added to an already long list. Hermione knew the feeling only too well. "I also know she made mistakes. You wouldn't be the first."

Hermione perked up, and she stood. She was still a lot shorter than her visitor, but he didn't seem threatened by her in the slightest, despite knowing who she was and why she had been imprisoned. Just how powerful were these people that they considered her little more than a bother?

"You're giving me the benefit of the doubt?" she asked.

His heavy red cloak fluttered, the hems almost curling around her calves like it was trying to hug her despite the lack of wind. She frowned at it, and considered taking a step back as she recalled Mr Weasley's wise words not to trust sentient objects if you couldn't see where they kept their brain. Instead, the necklace the man was wearing, dangling right at eye level for her, caught her attention when it sparked green. She jerked away this time. It was shaped like an eye, with strange symbols carved into it. Ominous, but not an artifact she recognised.

"Do you know what it is?" the man asked, looking at her with a curious tilt to his head.

Hermione shook her head.

"And now?" he asked after two quick gestures of his hand around the eye.

The pendant opened, revealing a brilliant green jewel set inside, familiar in a terrifying way, because of its otherworldliness, like the tesseract, like the yellow stone…

"No!" Hermione exclaimed when a green tendril reached out from the eye towards her.

Hermione fell back on her rear, a hand resting over her rapidly beating heart lest it burst out of her chest. Another quick gesture of his fingers and the eye closed, hiding its treasure, the tendril retreating. What were these stones? Why were they latching onto her like that? The man looked down at her without a word for a moment before opening a portal with one hand, holding his other hand out to her. He was going to let her go despite what had just happened? Wasn't this exactly what the Bald One had been afraid of?

"Why?" she asked, staring at the portal which led into a large, ornate room with little furnishings. An entrance hall?

"It's obvious you're not power hungry, and all I've ever seen you do since I was a boy is protect people. I could be wrong, but I don't think this is a solution," he said waving at the fragmented world at large.

With a sigh, Hermione accepted his hand and he pulled her back up on her feet, then led her through the portal like a perfect gentleman. Honestly, it had been as easy as crossing any old threshold, nothing like other magical travels she was familiar with, but she could cry, she was so relieved. He had really taken her back to the real world. She could feel it in the air she was breathing, and hear life buzzing around her ears once more.

"Who are you?" she finally asked.

"Doctor Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, at your service, my Lady," he replied with a cocky upturn of his lips.

Hermione smiled for what felt like the first time in weeks. Now that she thought about it, it must have been, but she had stopped counting after a while, a little more depressed with every day that passed with her still stuck there on her own, and even more lonely when she couldn't even visit Steve and Bucky any more. Doctor Strange's introduction didn't help her understand who he was or what he wanted, although he confirmed he wasn't a wizard, not one of her kind, so she couldn't help but be curious.

"And may I ask what it is a Sorcerer Supreme does? I don't think SHIELD knows about you."

"And they don't need to," he said, making his opinion clear on the matter. "We don't run in the same circles, so to speak. My role is to guard our world against mystical threats from other worlds."

Hermione bit the inside of her cheek to keep her composure, because that description sure fit her like a glove, except for the threat part, of course.

"Well, Doctor Strange, I can't thank you enough," she said honestly, but with a brittle smile. "But I've disappeared for far too long already, and need to go home. But if you ever need help, if you have questions, or if you just want to check I haven't suddenly turned evil, you'll probably know where to find me."

"That I will," he said with a wink, before opening the front door of his home with a wave of his hand.

Outside, she recognized New York, and not far, Stark Tower, the real one. She could apparate there without having to worry about folding the building into an origami now. Within seconds, she could finally be in Steve and Bucky's arms. With a last nod of farewell and thanks to Doctor Strange, Hermione disappeared from view.