Work Text:
An Unexpected Reading Experience
Gabriel did not like this at all. Lately it was all harmless pranks he pulled so he would not catch the Winchesters’ attention again. They thought him dead; let them think that for a while, he thought amusedly.
It did not mean he liked this. He had to make a prank that would not get the monkeys killed for sure and still provide him with entertainment enough.
He was sitting at a restaurant in Wyoming bored to tears – well, bored to tears if he had any he wanted to offer. He was not going to waste precious bodily fluids – wherever they may come from – for something he did not enjoy.
So he waited.
While he was discreetly skimming the place a little girl at the corner caught his attention. She was reading a book… Green Eggs and Ham. He rolled his eyes as a memory of a prank involving that particular story came to mind.
An idea popped into his head. Oh this would be good.
--
This was a punishment. She was sure of it. Her parents had taken her school books and told her to lay them down for a bit. She could not do that! She had to read them, it was important! She feared that she would end up humiliated on her first weeks of school because her parents had forbidden her to read.
She knew she had much she could do, and usually she would, but the thought of not being allowed to read them made her want to do so more. She was not rebellious, not rea-
Who am I fooling here? She thought gloomily while she sat down on a sofa, arms crossed.
The sound of something falling startled her and she stood up abruptly, looking for the source of the noise, until her eyes fell on the book on the floor. She looked around, did not know if she should take it or if it was a test. How would they even manage to do that? She immediately snatched the book from the ground and went back to the sofa and looked at the front of the book, frowning.
The Hobbit
She groaned loudly. This was not one of her favored stories. She had read it when she was younger thinking it would be an exciting read, but it was clearly not a book for her.
Still…
She… needed it.
In a hole in the ground there lived a hobbit…
--
With a gasp she sat up straight, book falling from her hands. She must have dozed off. Sighing, she leaned her head back and something in her sleepy mind tried to tell her that something was off.
Blinking, she tried to make sense of the room.
This was not her house. This was definitely not… where was she?
Frantically she paced around the house looking for something or someone that could tell her how she ended up here and where exactly here was.
She picked up the book that fell from her earlier and shook her head. This was a cooking book. The recipes in it were combinations of familiar dishes and odd looking ones.
Putting the book back on the table she made a frustrated sound and leaned back against a wall. Her heart beat so fast and loud that it was almost as if she could hear it and she felt she was suffocating.
Hold on…
In a hole in the ground…
She ran to the door and flung it open.
Not a nasty, dirty, wet hole, filled with the ends of worms and an oozy smell…
She walked around the “house” until she reached the door again.
It was a hobbit-hole.
She went inside.
“and that means comfort… Merlin” she breathed. This could not be possible. This had to be some dream.
She had read most of the book, had fallen asleep and this was her dream. She had to wake up. She did not find this the slightest bit amusing.
“Ahem”
Hermione whirled around with her hand at her pocket, instinctively reaching for… a wand that should be there.
A brown-haired man with gold-like eyes stood in front of her with a mischievous glint in his eyes and an easy lopsided smile on his lips. Hermione reached for a vase that stood behind her and threw it after him in an attempt to distract him, but soon found that to be impossible. Not only was he in front of her, but he was behind her as well.
“Really, lady, that’s no way to treat a more powerful being than yourself,” he said, and while his tone was light the implications of the words were not lost on her. She decided to get straight to the point.
“Who are you? Why have you brought me here?” She hoped he did not detect her panic, but somehow she doubted he would not. He seemed to be the type who knew exactly who he was dealing with.
“Some call me Gabby, some call me Loki, others call me Trickster and a whole other irrelevant group call me ‘jerk’. And believe me when I say, sweetheart, you do not want to be in that last group,” he said with a wink, “let’s just say… I’m not in the mood for refusals. So now you will have to entertain me by going on an adventure called “The Hobbit”. But don’t worry, you aren’t alone. I’ve gotten another… reader… into this, don’t you worry. This is actually a very nice gesture, but since I’ve snatched your mojo aaand I know you won’t like each other… well, this is gonna be fun. Buh-bye!”
Just like that, he was gone.
Hermione was seething. He did not even let her speak! How could he- were people even allowed to do so? She did not know this, but she knew that the first thing she would do when she got back was read whatever rules there were about manipulating situations against other peoples’ wills. The nerve!
A knock on the door brought her out of her thoughts and she hesitantly went to open the door, already knowing that a dwarf may be waiting outside of it.
As she thought, a green cloaked, blue-bearded dwarf – who was taller than her – stood outside.
“Dwalin at your service”
Hermione stood there wondering if she were still Hermione Granger, or if she was Bilbo Baggins, and so she bowed a little mumbling “And I at yours.”
The night went on with more dwarves joining her and she found out that she was indeed Bilbo Baggins though they did ask her if all men looked like maidens around here.
Soon a last knock on the door sounded, and she knew she was going to face her “partner”.
Her partner was – not unlike herself – altered a bit to suit his character, but it did not hinder his handsome appearance from shining trough. He had dark hair and dark eyes, the dwarvish beard looked too full for his youthful face. He did not seem to be much older than she was. Behind him the Trickster stood in the most ridiculous attire she had ever seen, and in a way he reminded her of Dumbledore.
Everything went silent and she thought for a moment that it was because the other dwarves had seen their leader, but not only was the noise gone, but any movement was also ceased. Gabriel had obviously been the cause.
“Alrighty, kiddos, here’s the deal. You go through this mission – Hermione as Bilbo and Tom as Thorin - and when I feel like it, I’ll pull you right out – assuming that you’ll provide me great entertainment. Understood? Tom?”
Tom was glaring defiantly at the Trickster. She assumed that they must have had a more colourful first meeting, considering the way the younger glared at the older as if he wanted more than anything to harm him, but something was holding him back. Finally, he nodded.
“Excellent!”
--
There were many things Hermione had learned about her partner during this journey. He was smart and he had a way with words that in the beginning stunned her so much she had to close her mouth after he had pointedly looked at her. She learned he was merciless. He was a born leader, and she could understand why his role was not just becoming one of the younger dwarves. Although his ideas infuriated her she could not deny that he definitely knew how to move a crowd, and she had to begrudgingly admit that she enjoyed some of her talks with him. Make a bad situation worse she found that the too big dwarvish beard did not necessarily make him bad to look at. He had shortened it so it looked neater and she found that despite the beard, he looked quite handsome.
He had many ideas along the way that went against the books’ events, and though some were inescapable, using the books as a tool of getting out of the dangerous situations sooner proved helpful. Hermione soon started questioning his decision on the matter. This was getting too easy. So she tried to argue with him, but he was stubborn and they went on.
When they reached the Mirkwood forest Tom and Hermione knew from the books that they had to follow the path and not lose it. That meant that they had to be aware at all times and so he decided that they would camp on the path and get on with the mission the next day. Hermione opposed to this and made it very clear that they had to move on. This resulted some of the dwarves to take her to the side and tell her that it would be wiser to do as the king said. As they all slept Hermione sneaked to Tom’s sleeping place, where she sat kneeled down and was about to shake him when he grabbed her wrist, startling her.
“Don’t you dare!” He growled and sat up without letting go of her. She waited patiently as he woke up fully – or at least that was what she assumed. She never knew where she had him.
When she thought she had waiting a little too long she jerked her hand away from his grip, glaring at him, while he glared back in return.
“What?”
“You know what. Don’t you think this is going a little too smoothly?”
“Yes, it is. Let it. It’s going to be much more difficult in the end whatever we do.”
Hermione made an annoyed noise and threw her arms up, “‘Let it’? It’s going to blow up in our faces and you want us to ‘let it’?”
He rolled his eyes at her.
“These dwarves can get hurt. We could very well lose them, if we aren’t careful.” Said Hermione finally.
“I don’t see the down-side to it.” Tom said with a raised eyebrow. Hermione’s mouth dropped open, before she snapped it closed and felt disgust at the young man’s indifference.
“How can you say that? They’re your responsibi-”
“They are fictional!” Tom interrupted indignantly.
“And yet, they are very much alive!”
“You’re insufferable, you know that?” He said with a slight quirk of his lips.
--
Camping on the forest path was definitely not the best idea Tom had had. They had been chased by wild animals, had an encounter with orcs and almost lost the youngest member of the Company, because Tom wanted to avoid the giant spiders in the forest, and now that they had lost the path anyway, they were without doubt going to meet the spiders.
“I told you we should just do as they did in the book!” whispered Hermione furiously. The dwarves were asleep and only they were awake.
“That’s just it!” Tom whispered back “We are not characters from the book! We are different people with different experiences. If I hadn’t saved you from those orcs, you’d bedead by now. So how do you feel about an encounter with the spiders? You won’t be able to fight them!”
“Oh, don’t you put this on me! I saved you from the Warg that was going to bite your head off. At least we wouldn’t have had this problem if you had just followed the events of the book! You know how it ends! Maybe we’ll be able to escape it!”
“With all due respect, I’m not willing to risk my life for a ‘maybe’. He wanted ‘entertainment’ he said. What do you think that means? That we’ll get out of here unscathed?” He shook his head in disbelief. “You must be truly naïve if you believe that. ‘Entertainment’ means blood. It means death.”
Hermione opened her mouth to answer, but a rustle in the bushes made stopped her.
Tom rose and Hermione, who had been forced to act as a subject of a king longer than she’d care, automatically rose with him. They carefully walked towards the bushes, drawing the swords before a big wolf surprised them by springing on Tom, who made a frustrated growl.
If the situation had not been so grave, Hermione would have laughed at Tom continuously being tackled to the ground. Instead she ran towards them sword ready to impale the huge wolf, until she was suddenly unable to move and fell headfirst into the ground.
“Here you are, mortals! That feather-clad clown really made a mess of you did he not?”
She could suddenly move and stumblingly she got up, looking at Tom who had also gotten up looking murderous.
“Now, now,” the other said, looking disapprovingly at Tom, “I’m here to get you out. Gabriel is causing too much havoc bringing two important mortals away from the course of history. I will bring you to his brothers who will deal with you, and send you to your respectful times.”
Hermione had just managed to form a colourful insult in her head when a bright light had engulfed them.
--
They appeared in a white, plainly decorated room with no doors and a table in the middle, and Hermione was momentarily satisfied to find that she was once again her normal self.
Gabriel and a blonde, stern-looking man looked at them; Gabriel with a guilty expression on his face, and the other with a self-satisfied smirk.
“You are dismissed, brother,” he said and Gabriel was gone.
“Very well,” Gabriel’s brother said, standing closer to them, “I am Michael. My brother will face punishment for his interference. After all,” he stepped much closer, “we would not want to delay the inevitable, would we?” His presence made Hermione uneasy and she took an involuntary step back as she tried to think of what his words meant. Loki had said that they were both important. She understood that perhaps Harry’s fight against Voldemort would make her a little important, as she would help Harry whatever way she could, but what did he mean by Tom? She sneaked a look at him, and found he was not surprised. Just angry.
“I will leave you here, until I find the exact moment you were taken from.”
When he was gone Hermione looked at Tom who in turn looked at her, his face – now clean and more human – still carrying the angry look.
“I will kill him.” he said, hands twitching. Missing his wand, no doubt. To be quite honest, Hermione would not mind joining him. They had endured months in that forest for something that not only wasted their time, but also could have gotten them killed. All because the fool needed some fun. As though he had read her mind, he suddenly smirked.
“Care to join me?”
I swear, she thought as her eyes widened, I’ll never know where I have him.
While she did not exactly wish to kill someone – and she hoped he did not actually mean that either, despite his questionable opinions in the Storyverse – she thought it would be sad not to see him again. He had no trouble telling her his opinions no matter how outrageous they were and she missed someone to argue with who would not tell her to stop acting like a know-it-all. Of course she could be mistaken and he was just joking. Wait, could he read her mind? Hermione, get a grip.
Slightly embarrassed that she had panicked like this, she smiled in agreement and wanted to make some form of acknowledgement of their friendship when once again Loki appeared right between them.
“Oh, sorry, was I interrupting something?” He asked haughtily, “Never mind. Tom Riddle, son of… Tom Riddle…”
What? Hermione thought as Loki continued babbling, and she looked at Tom, expecting to see some sort of disconfirmation at the mention of that name, but no reaction apart from a slight look of disgust came.
“And Hermione Granger, daughter of Hugo Granger – you mortals’ names are so odd – the dominating calendar year 1996 at the 16th hour and 18th minute and 40th second of the Day of the Son, the 28th day of the 8th month. You were sitting on a very soft, red chair in a room. You were reading the same book as Tom did. Maybe you should consider reading less adventurous books? Just a suggestion.”
She saw Tom look at her suspiciously and wished she was holding her wand right now.
Loki, who seemed a little too amused for her comfort suddenly lightened up.
“You know what? Why don’t I let you say your farewells? Yes, I’ll do just that!” he said, disappearing the same way he had appeared.
“1996?”, “Tom Riddle?”
They both glared at each other, neither wanting to yield.
Hermione did not know whether to feel betrayed or angry at herself. She should have realised that something was up. She should have realised that when that Trickster said that they would not like each other… but she did like him. In some odd, not-quite-like-Harry-and-Ron and yet-better-than-a-certain-girl-in-her-dorm way, she did.
“Why didn’t you tell me?” she said accusingly.
“What? Tell you more than you told me, Hermione-who-likes-books-and-is-in-Gryffindor?”
Of course he would say that. He was suspicious by nature. She sighed.
“So tell me,” he said, once again smirking, and Hermione frowned. What was so funny? “‘Riddle’?”
She shook her head, not understanding what he was on about. He rolled his eyes.
“You sounded so angry. And your face when he said it. I thought for a moment that you’d actually faint.” He said mockingly.
She was seething. That little…! If she had her wand…
No. No need for a wand. She had been living outside for months; she could fight him with his bare hands.
She smacked his face, and it took him a moment to register what she had done, before he took grabbed her arm in anger. She started hitting him with the one available arm while trying to get his hand off her. His grip tightened at the same time that he whirled her around and slammed her against the wall, where he pinned her.
“That was a bad idea, Hermione,” he whispered, his lips close to her ear, and she shivered. Not good. Not good, “Now… you will tell me everything you know,” and I may leave you alone in the future.
Hermione moved her head closer… and bit his neck enough to draw blood.
Tom let go of her with a growl and pushed her to the ground, and was about to deliver a kick to her side when she grabbed his leg, and he fell on top of her.
Taking the moment she got off from under him and sat on his back.
“Get. Off. Now!”
Hermione shook her head, even though he could not see her, and grabbed the nearest hard object from the table, hitting him on his head.
She breathed out in relief.
“Huh" She breathes out, "You fainted.”