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All flotsam and jetsam drifting around the Capital Wasteland eventually ends up at Megaton. Often it begins its journey at Megaton, cast off from one of the high walkways between saloon and toilets and water filtration plant and resupply store. Hermione Granger, now become a multiverse traveller since a fortuitous discovery in the Department of Mysteries, stands at the door of the great post apocalyptic city of scum and villainy, this mini Washington DC where Law plays court jester to Crime.
It's a much bigger place in real life to how it appears in game, not that Hermione has ever played the muggle toys called ‘video games’. Even if she had never discovered she was a witch, video games would have been too much of a hideous waste of time, plus, she's not that sort of girl. At most she might have played mobile games, ending up getting way too into it, to the point where she'd end up becoming a ‘whale’ as it's known, simply so she could maintain her number one spot.
The jet engine which powers the armour plating on the gates spins up, raising the huge slabs of metal. Hermione says goodbye to the Wild West deputy robot with whom she’d been conducting an amusing conversation, and trots through towards another set of gates, even larger than the first. These dust smeared people have guns, she's seen it, but she has a wand, and she's a veteran witch. There's danger for her here, but not as much as for almost everyone else in this world.
“Welcome to Megaton. You look like a pleasant sort, miss. You'd better be the pleasant sort…” warns a black cowboy sheriff to Hermione as soon as she reaches the peak of a long slope that falls away into a bomb crater.
On the way through the town, down to the crater where a terribly familiar shape lurks in a pool of radioactive sludge, up to the higher levels where the important people congregate, Hermione passes many interesting sights. The bomb itself, of course, which she'd prefer to stay far away from, and then the odd human specimens whirling about it. That in itself points to the deranged state of the place, of course. Only wizards could be so blase about shards of muggle insanity, and she doubts the majority of these folks are magically inclined. Many of them either outright worship the bomb, or walk near it like it's not utterly deadly, even in its sleeping state.
Climbing the sheet metal walkways under the blazing hot sun amidst dust, flies, and humidity, is a huge test of patience for the woman. A spell or two would make everything so much more comfortable, but she doesn't know what the rules are here, there might be a post apocalyptic Ministry of Magic present in this wasteland, and post apocalyptic officials might swarm her location and cause her inconvenience should she perform magic in front of muggles.
What is her mission here? There isn't any grand one, except exploration and reconnaissance. The ultimate goal is always to acquire magical knowledge, but so far the place is entirely ordinary, that's what she thinks, whilst standing outside a sleazy saloon. It's not the sort of place she would visit except for detective work, or with a group of friends, on a dare.
And indeed, almost the instant she enters, she wishes to leave, as the stench of beer is great, and there is an obvious hooker leaning against a far wall. Vice - not the sort of danger easily repelled by a simple spell. Hermione approaches the bar, simply because she's already out of place in her robes, general cleanliness, and lack of a tan. However, behind the bar stands an inferius. Pulling her wand out in an instant, she blasts the thing with fire.
Gob goes reeling about the place, shrieking, prompting his boss to charge out of his office, heavy pistol raised, at the same time as every other capable man in the place pulls weapons. Deciding that she's made a bit of a muck up of the situation, Hermione casts a disillusionment charm and gets the heck out of there. Surely there's other places begging to be investigated by the nosy intrepid witch.