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Hermione had accepted to take charge of the inventory of Hogwarts castle for the sole purpose of keeping her mind and hands busy, to forget about how her life had spiralled out of control since what should have been her last year at Hogwarts: the war, being hunted, the battle, the deaths, the funerals, rebuilding the castle and society, her marriage and soon after, her messy divorce… And it had been a good diversion. Weeks of combing through the castle to find, catalogue, repair and place all the castle's artefacts and furniture back to where they belonged. How the school had managed to run since then when half the beds in Ravenclaw tower were missing and most of the chairs in the classes were rickety was a mystery. After all her work, she discovered a whole suit of armour was still missing, but one of the older Hufflepuffs swore up and down his cousin had seen one making a run for it into the forbidden forest in the midst of the battle. Now there were rumours of the cowardly knight lurking in the forest to catch unruly students. As if the forbidden forest didn't have a bad enough reputation.
One artefact she had not expected to find was the mirror of erised. It was the last item on her list she had to find a place for. It was too dangerous to leave it where a student could find, but she had no idea where it came from originally, or where it should go for safekeeping. She resolved to leave the matter in the hands of the new headmistress, and ask her for another mind-numbing task to complete... but she had always been too curious for her own good. Harry had told her about the mirror and how it worked, yet, she did not know what to expect if she dared look into it.
They had won the war. Her parents were well, but had decided to remain in Australia even after she had removed the memory spell, and that, despite forgiving her… Once upon a time, she would have seen a perfect NEWT score or some such nonsense, but she had learned during the war that schoolwork and rewards were not as all important as she had thought them to be.
She dearly wished Fred was still alive, and Tonks and Remus, and all the others… but she also realized the impossibility and foolishness of such a wish, because even magic couldn't bring back the dead, so she doubted she would see them in the mirror either…
So what? What could the mirror possibly show her? Hermione stared at the mirror but not directly into it. She had been careful not to all this time, but now… Well now, she was devoured by curiosity. What could the mirror show her when she wanted for nothing herself? It at least, nothing could view as possible. She had long learned to give up on dreams.
A few steps later, she took a deep breath and looked into the time-worn surface, but it was only her. Her reflection, as she was now. It was just that. Just a mirror.
Hermione smirked mockingly at the mirror. Useless for someone who wanted for nothing, or had their feet firmly planted on the ground of reality. She had been right. Again.
Except… her reflection was not smirking back at her. Taken aback, Hermione leaned forward, but her other self did too. Puzzled, she stepped back and the reflection followed suit.
"Just a mirror," she scoffed.
She was about to note on her clipboard that the artefact was defunct when the reflection changed for sure this time. It was still her but in a place she didn't know, an eerie red light barely showing a vast city, building old and new. She belatedly recognized it was New York from one particular landmark, far in the distance.
Why New York? She was pretty sure she didn't particularly desire to go there. Was it just a suggestion she wanted change in general? Or to go sightseeing? Visit the world?
Suddenly, her reflection looked up and Hermione followed her line of sight, both gasping upon seeing a horned shadow looking above. A demon? Hermione thought there were no such things in the wizarding world. But things only got worse from there because her reflection welcomed the demon with open arms and embraced him like a lover.
Hermione stared open mouthed at the vision, and because it wouldn't go away, she had to tear her gaze away and take a few steps back from the cursed artefact.
"Are you frigging kidding me?" she asked it, then shook her head. "Why am I even talking to you?"
She stomped off, straight for the headmistress' office, but she didn't mention the incident. She didn't ask for more work either, or a position at the school as she had thought about doing on and off for months now, informing her instead that she would be away for a while and not to worry.
Professor McGonagall understood, saying she needed time for herself, but what Hermione really needed was to solve this new mystery.
When Hermione set foot in New York for the first time, it was like she could breathe easily for the first time in years. No one knew her here. No journalists from the Daily Prophet would haunts her steps to drag her name through the mud, no chance of crossing paths with any Weasleys either. The clan had not taken well to her divorcing them, and arguments could get loud and nasty when she crossed paths with Ron or Molly. She didn't hold it against the matriarch as she was just defending her moron of a son, but still… it hurt.
Here, however, she was no one. She knew no one. She was free. So she visited the city, walking aimlessly as she tried to find the place the mirror had showed her. It was harder than she had imagined, because the city was huge and looked very different in the light of day or night. That is why she found herself sleeping during the day and exploring the streets at night. She wished, on a few occasions, that she had borrowed Harry's invisibility cloak, because other people lurking in the streets at night did not have such noble intentions as she did, conducting instead the kind of business worthy of Knockturn Alley.
And still she wondered what the mirror had reflected back at her. Leaving England had done her a world of good, so it had gotten that right, but what about the demon? Was the mirror hinting she wanted to delve into the dark arts? Her nose crinkled at the very thought. No. No a shred of such a desire could he found in her, she was sure. So… just that she wanted to find someone new? Dangerous? Mysterious?
On one such night, she was eating take-away from a street vendor, something he had called empenada and which was like an explosion of spices in her mouth. At this rate, she was going to gain all the pounds she had lost during her harrowing divorce in record time. She even had a giant pretzel stuffed in her handbag for her middle of the night snack and a warming charm on her coffee. She had it all planned, as usual, except for the guy following her. And his friend. Two against one? Really?
Hermione was in her rights to curse them back into last Monday. She was thinking a nice bat-bogey hex would ensure they had nightmares for weeks. It might even give them second thoughts about stalking lone women in the dead of night. For now, however, she would just try to lose them. She was, after all, a good witch. But after slithering down two alleys and walking more briskly, those two idiots were still following her, like they couldn't get the hint. So she stopped, turned around, and faced them. That is when she recognised the place she was at: that dark building, that wonky skyline, even the reddish light coming from the sign from a nearby bar, ominously called Hell's Kitchen. Hermione laughed. Was that a subtle way for the mirror to tell her to go to hell?
The two men facing her froze at the sound of her near hysterical laugh. They shared a glance, obviously hesitating. Hermione, for her part, was busy scanning the buildings ledges, but she found no sign of a demon anywhere.
That'll teach me to listen to a mirror , she scolded herself as she took out her wand.
"Well, boys? I haven't got all night, you know?" she taunted.
At least she could take out her frustrations on these lowlifes. They leaped towards her, but before she could curse them, a shadow stepped in. A few meaty thuds later, her would-be attackers lay on the ground, moaning.
"What? The hell?" Hermione muttered.
Now, she was even more frustrated.
"You should be more careful," a gravelly voice replied. “It’s not safe out alone at night. Go home.”
Hermione scanned the area, shifting on the spot, wand at the ready, but she could see no one.
" Homenium revelio, " she whispered, and now, clear as day, she could see the outline of a full grown man crouched behind a bin, looking quite ridiculous.
"Aren't you out alone at night? Why don’t you follow your own advice?” she asked.
The man didn’t answer. Was he waiting for her to leave, pretend he wasn’t there?
“I can't imagine it smells nice over there.” Hermione called out instead. “Why don't you come here like a civilised gentleman, so I can shake your hand in thanks?"
The man's silhouette tensed for a few seconds, but then his shoulders sagged, and he stood. A few steps later, he stood in front of her in all his red devilishness. It was him! The man in her vision, the one she had been looking for. She had been so sure the mirror was mocking her, or that the vision was not to be taken literally, that she had to go to New York to fight her own demons… But he was real, and he was a human.
"It is you," she said in awe, her wand hand dropping.
"Me? You were looking for me?" he growled. "Who sent you? What do you want?"
Hermione chuckled. This man sounded as jaded by life as she was. She took a few steps towards him, stopping when it looked as if he was going to bolt like a feral kitten.
“No one. Or Fate, I suppose. Why? Who is after you?” she asked, recognising his weariness, the mistrust in his tone.
“Who isn’t?” he muttered in reply, as much to himself as to her.
Hermione’s eyes lit up. She could help! Be useful, do some good, because this guy, despite his ridiculous costume and gruff manners, was a good guy. He had, after all, just saved her. Not that she needed it, but he could not have known that.
“In that case, consider me your ally,” she replied.
Her demon was reluctant. He tried running away, so she followed him. Wherever he went, she went. Finding out the masked vigilante was a lawyer by day was both hilarious, and consolidated her belief she had to help him. His friends, Foggy and Karen, didn’t understand what had Matt so annoyed, because she remained hidden from them, but Matt always saw her, through every concealment and disguise she used. He always knew exactly who and where she was.
His alter-ego, Daredevil, seemed truly invincible, so, after a while, she wondered if she was of any use to him after all. But one day, Matt bit more than he could chew, and he was already in a bad way before she could help and get him out of there, back to his apartment.
“Call Claire,” he said through gritted teeth, blood everywhere, red over red.
“Claire? Who? Is now really the time to call your girlfriend?”
Boys. Honestly.
“No. Nurse. Claire…”
Hermione batted his hands away and tutted.
“A nurse can only do so much.”
She got to work, peeling Matt out of his suit, healing as she went along with wand and potions. She had prepared for such an eventuality weeks ago given his line of work, and once that was done, she levitated him to bed and told him to sleep it off. Not that he would have a choice given the potions she had given him. They would knock a wizard right out, never mind a muggle.
She decided to sleep on his couch for the night, just in case he needed anything, or if he reacted badly to one of the potions. They weren't meant for muggles after all, even if they worked just as well on them, but you couldn't be too careful.
And she was glad she had, because no sooner had she closed her eyes that a barely audible thud sounded from the kitchen. Hermione peeked over the edge of the couch, spotting two shadows creeping behind the counter. Two more were already slinking past her couch. Without hesitation, she stunned them, the red bolts of lights revealing there were many more unexpected visitors that night, looking like cockroaches that had crawled out of the cracks in the walls. They were, of course, all heading for the bedroom, or they had been, but now, all heads turned towards her.
Hermione dropped from the couch to the floor in one swift roll, not knowing what had hit the spot she had been occupying seconds ago, except that it had sounded quite sharp and lethal.
Alright, they asked for it!
She knew she was going to be in trouble with the MACUSA using so much magic in front of so many muggles and on muggles, but she could now plead self-defence.
She grinned. Several curses later, the room was quiet once more and she could hear the faint, uninterrupted snoring from next door. The silence didn't last, however. Several pops of apparition sounded, heralding the arrival of the MACUSA aurors. She put her wand down on the coffee table and raised her hands, waiting. A couple of the younger wizards were visibly put out they would not be duelling that night.
"Identify yourself," the older witch commanded.
"Hermione Granger. Hello."
They exchanged a few whispers between them.
"You can lower your hands. Care to explain?" the old auror asked with an edge of annoyance.
"They started it," she said, sounding very much like Ron. "Well, I mean, I may have thrown the first stone, if we want to get technical, but they invaded the place first and were up to no good."
She pointed to her spot in the couch where she had prepared a makeshift bed, the pillow spewing it's feathery insides from a gash tight in the middle of it caused by what looked like a giant fork to her. The older witch punched the bridge of her nose.
"You do realize, Miss Granger, that we have laws in this country? Laws to protect muggles and which we actually uphold."
Hermione's lips twitched but she tried not to show her amusement.
"Oh yes. I'm sure we had them too at some point," she snarked.
Honestly, the opinion outsiders had of her country since Voldemort's return was so misinformed it was ridiculous. Never mind that they had defeated the dark wizard, his legions of minions and dark creatures, who came from all over the world, including America , but sure, let's just keep looking down on the savage, lawless Brits. Nevermind that they now had the most socially advanced laws to promote the wealthfare and inclusion of muggleborns and their families, of the creature-enhanced, the orphans, the financially-challenged… They had rebuilt their society with such strong foundations, they were already reaping the benefits. But the rest of the world was just waiting for them to spout out a new dark wizard…
The aurors went about their job ridding the memories of magic from the black-clad men but they were a bit at a loss as to what to do with them, over a dozen all bound and gagged. The old witch raised an eyebrow at her.
"Just leave them. My friend will take care of them, he's used to it. Are you putting me under arrest?'
"Obviously. These two you attacked without provocation."
Hermione snorted. If she had not been so quick, she would might have been too dead to go anything at all.
"Waiting to get hit first is not a winning strategy. Trust me," Hermione argued.
One of the aurors chuckled, but covered it up quickly when his commanding officer glared at him.
"Regardless, procedure must be followed."
"Can I contact my lawyer first?" Hermione asked, knowing they had to agree.
So she wrote a note and charmed it to tell it's message at Matt as soon as he got up.
"You got in a bit of a pickle ?' Matt read off her note as soon as they were left on their own in an interrogation room.
The auror had given him a rundown of what had happened and what she was accused of, and if he had nodded pensively while he was there, he looked like he was about to tear his hair out now.
"Well, never mind that," he continued, not letting her time to answer. "I had to get here through a tree in central park. I knocked at a tree . I swear if you make me do something that ridiculous again…"
"Yes?" Hermione asked.
Matt huffed.
"I only came here because it's my fault you were arrested, but you do realise I don't know the first thing about your people's laws, right?"
"That's fine. Just throw logic at them, that'll knock them right out."
And Matt did just that. By the time he was finished, the head auror was apologizing to them, seeming completely confused. Matt looked like he was having a hard time not cracking up too. Hermione could see his mouth quiver and he kept biting his bottom lip not to give in to the laughter.
They walked away, Hermione as free as a bird as they exited through the Central Park tree. She thought they would return to their usual routine of her near-stalking him, but he guided her to a bench instead and they sat, watching the magical tree-lift. So now she was expecting him to lecture her once more.
"You're crazy."
It wasn't exactly a compliment, but it was said with as much fondness as she had heard from him before.
"Your world is crazy. But I guess, so is this one. Things are changing. There are more and more people like me. Different, enhanced, call it what you will…"
Hermione kept quiet. She had no idea where he was going with this and felt like she was standing on a precipice.
"I have always pushed people away because being near me is dangerous. Just ask Foggy."
She would, but Matt had made it clear from the start he wanted nothing to do with her so she had remained invisible to his friends.
"But I've seen what you can do. What you did, on your own… you're stronger than me. Not to mention you saved my life twice in one night."
He huffed, but it sounded almost like a chuckle. Still, she remained silent.
"What I'm trying to say, Hermione, is that I shouldn't have pushed you away out of some misplaced fear. I'd like to start over…"
He half turned towards her and offered his hand to shake.
"Hi, I'm Matt. I heard you were looking for me?"