APermann
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"Do you recall when I mentioned I had glimpsed her thoughts?" she inquired, her voice low, "I observed something rather out of the ordinary. Bella"—she went on insistently—"I am increasingly persuaded that there exists a distinct and troubling possibility: she may well be a venor floccus." In this reimagining, Hermione Granger is not yet the self-possessed, incisive young woman the world will one day revere. At fifteen, she remains uncertain, untempered—far too earnest and soft-hearted for the company she keeps. Yet, as the days darken and the world grows more unfamiliar, Hermione finds herself undergoing a subtle, uneasy transformation—drawn forth by secrets, mounting pressures, and a disquieting fascination with the enigmatic Bellatrix Lestrange.
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Whatever weird little piece of Bangkok-with-a-Scottish-twist dislodged from that hell-in-a-hotel-room and stalked her home, Miranda is terrifying and exciting and totally new, and there aren’t that many things that are totally new when you’ve been to as many places as Cassie has. And she’s jittery, and there goes the second shot and she’s still jittery, but something is telling her maybe this wasn’t need-a-drink need-to-get-going scared-of-dying jitters in the first place.
Maybe this is excitement.
And maybe this is the disasterly-duo-on-the-run-in-Montreal spin-off fic no one was going to ask for.