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crossoverficAuthor: serendu
Disclaimers: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing also DC comics and their subsidiaries. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Pairing: None
Notes: Batman/Hp xover. Harry Potter wasn’t the only person in Hogwarts with a godfather. Apologies for the delay. Real life got interesting in ways I really wished it hadn’t!
Previous parts can be found here at my journal: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7
And now, from the other side.
Reflections.
***
She just knew she was behind in, well, everything. Hermione sniffed as she looked over the incomplete booklist. It was a good thing she didn’t have any real plans this summer or else she would never catch up with all her school work.
She looked over at the two boys in the carriage as they travelled back to London with her.
She would just have to work extra hard to make sure she was ready for next year.
***
Hermione wrinkled her nose as her mother left the room. Something was definitely strange about being home. She shrugged and turned back to her textbook. She was sure she’d work it out eventually.
***
‘… And reports of the dangerous criminal, Sirius Black, on the run. Police are warning that Black is armed and incredibly dangerous. The public are being warned not to approach Black should they see him, but report their sightings immediately…’
‘They didn’t say where he was on the run from.’ Her mother noted. ‘I wonder…’
‘He’s a wizard.’ Hermione interrupted, holding up her copy of one of the wizarding publications she had a subscription to, showing a snarling Sirius Black. ‘Apparently he killed a lot of muggles some years ago.’
Her parents exchanged worried glances.
‘But I’m sure he’ll be caught soon enough.’ She said. ‘After all,’ she nodded in the direction of the television, ‘everyone in the UK knows who he is now.’
***
She wanted a cat. She got a cat. She didn’t care what Ron said. She pouted as she sat down on her bed and settled her new pet onto her lap. After all – who wanted a nasty rat anyway? She shuddered at the thought of Scabbers.
If Crookshanks did eat him she wouldn’t complain too much, although she might put some money towards a new pet for Ron – if he didn’t get too offended, she mused, brushing her hand lovingly down Crookshanks’ beautiful coat.
It was strange though, she pondered as she relaxed, the motions of petting her pet soothing her. She had always been a big fan of cats. But when she was in the shop, some of the bats in the corner had caught her eye – before Crookshanks had appeared. She had always hated bats when she was younger. Now she tended to smile when she saw bats as decorations on Halloween or flying around at night outside the castle. Although she couldn’t for the life of her remember why.
That didn’t mean she liked Professor Snape though.
She still couldn’t believe that old bat had given her such a poor grade on her first piece of work for the year.
***
‘Honestly!’ Hermione exclaimed and marched from the common room to the library. ‘Why do boys have to be so…. immature?’ She demanded under her breath as she started unloading her bags of books onto the desk.
The timeturner was beginning to get to her, she decided with a firm nod of her head.
She needed to get over their immaturity and get on with things. She still had all her homework to get done.
As she sat down and began her essay, she tried to push away how lonely she felt. She wished there was someone who would listen to her. Her parents loved her, but they were so far away and they didn’t really understand the wizarding world at all.
She sighed. Mulling over things was not going to get Professor Snape’s essay finished any quicker.
***
Okay, she shouldn’t have done it – but Malfoy had definitely deserved that smack. She nodded decisively to herself. She flexed her fingers, making sure that she hadn’t done any real damage to her hand.
Then she pulled a bit of a face. Maybe it was time to give up the defence lessons she’d been taking last summer. Violence, muggle-style would get her nowhere in the wizarding world.
It wasn’t like she could beat up every pureblood that deserved it now could she?
***
Rescuing Sirius had definitely been an adrenaline rush! Hermione hugged her knees to her chest as she sat on her bed, hours before leaving Hogwarts at the end of her third year. She wondered what on earth would happen next year. She pulled a face at the thought of the long summer holiday ahead. Spending time with her parents was becoming more and more of a pain. The muggle world was just so… well… boring. What could it offer to someone like her? Even her teachers knew how talented she was – they let her use a timeturner – although she did have to hand that back at the end of the year – but still!
She let go of her knees and settled back down to sleep the last few hours before dawn.
She couldn’t wait for next year!
***
‘Ooooh!’ She pulled a face as the furious sound left her lips. ‘Goblet of Fire indeed. I’ll give them a blasted Goblet of Fire.’ She fumed. ‘How dare they let Harry continue in the competition – he didn’t even put his name in! What on earth is the Headmaster thinking?’ She muttered, heading over to the section on magical contracts that she just knew lived in the extensive Hogwarts library.
She stumbled slightly and then frowned, before turning back the way she had come.
‘I think I should check on Harry.’ She said decisively. ‘He needs me now Ron is being a stubborn idiot.’ All thoughts of magical contracts already out of her head.
***
Krum was watching her again. She ducked her head down behind her book, blushing as she did so.
‘I do wish someone could explain boys to me.’ She murmured to the pages. ‘They just make no sense.’
***
He asked her to the ball. Her! She blinked at her reflection as she pulled a face in the mirror.
What on earth did he see in her – besides her crazy hair – and the fact that his fame didn’t fluster her.
Maybe it was the fame thing.
She pulled another face.
She wrinkled her nose as she considered the whole ‘fame thing’ as a possibility. Why would she be impressed by him? He wasn’t that impressive – not really. She mentally shrugged.
At least she wouldn’t let him down in the dancing stakes. She knew she could dance. Her father had taught her.
A stray thought crossed her mind. Okay – not her father – with his two left feet – but she had been taught by… by…
She blinked again and pulled another face. Well, whoever it was – she knew how to dance. But now she had another dilemma.
What on earth would she wear?
***
She. Would. Not. Cry.
She wouldn’t.
She hugged her knees, and rocked back and forth on her bed, her dress cast away into a case, her hair already undone and her make up off, all ready for bed.
And she would not cry.
Not over stupid Ron Weasley and his stupid ideas of Viktor, nor Harry and how he wasn’t helping her.
And she WOULD. NOT. CRY.
A tear slipped down past her trembling lip. She bit into her lip to stop herself from crying out and her roommates hearing her.
She curled up into a ball on her bed, stuffed her face into her pillow and sobbed.
She hated everyone.
***
Her fifth year was, in spite of Harry’s crazy moods and that awful Umbridge being a pain, not too bad all things considered, Hermione mused as she gazed around the common room. Okay, Voldemort being back was something she could do without, and that awful toad Malfoy still annoyed her no end, and okay – Professor Snape still under marked all her work considering the effort she put in, but overall – so far – this year had been nice and, well, fairly quiet.
She glanced down at the work Umbridge had assigned.
This lack of practical work was ridiculous! Why, everyone knew you needed practical applications for the theory – just like the lessons she used to take for martial arts some years ago in the muggle world. She knew studying the theory didn’t lead to being able to do any of the actions perfectly without practice – so why should spellwork be any different?
She smiled wryly. Of course, telling Umbridge that muggles believed in a combination of theory and practice would not help her case.
She needed something different.
She pondered it awhile.
Maybe… Harry?
***
Sirius was dead!
Hermione still couldn’t believe it.
She had wondered about contacting Harry at home to see how he was, but had then put the thought out of her mind. She was sure he was fine.
She pulled a face as she drank the specially prepared potion for the curse she had gotten at the Ministry and pondered how she was. She was okay – but couldn’t wait to get out of here. Her parents seemed to tiptoe around her these days. She shifted slightly in her bed and winced as the pain increased with her movements.
At least it was only a little while and she could get back to school.
She finished the potion off and began the next.
She hoped next year was better.
***
They appointed Snape? Snape?
Who on earth let Professor Severus Snape teach Defence Against the Dark Arts?
Were they all mad?
Harry needed someone to teach him, so he could make sure next time he encountered Voldemort – and he undoubtedly would encounter him again – of that fact Hermione had no doubt – he would be ready.
Prepared.
Knowledgeable.
Know more than what could be gained out of textbooks.
And talking of textbooks – she wanted him to lose that blasted ‘Half-Blood Prince’ one whilst she was thinking about it.
How dare he top her in potions! He didn’t understand any of it! She had worked and worked and worked – whilst those two lazy boys had copied off her for years! She was done!
***
She felt ill. Sick at the sight of it. How could he not know how she felt? How could he do this to her?
She watched as Ron and Lavender exchanged soppy glances and pushed away her plate.
She wanted, no needed to be alone.
***
Coming around in the Hospital Wing, Hermione felt an awful sense of foreboding.
Something was wrong.
‘What is it – what’s happened?’ She whispered, seeing a figure near her.
Neville Longbottom hurried over to her, he looked devastated.
‘Professor Dumbledore… is dead! He died – not long… Deatheaters…’ Longbottom trailed off. ‘It was Snape – he cast it – Harry saw him!’
Hermione fell back against the pillows.
Dumbledore dead?
She couldn’t take it in. It didn’t make sense. Her mind felt all jumbled up.
‘Thank you Neville.’ She said automatically. ‘For telling me – that is.’
Longbottom nodded. ‘I need to go – Madam Pomfrey needs some more plants from the Greenhouses.’
Hermione nodded wearily. She watched him go out of the door, before closing her eyes, her mind trying to assimilate the news.
As she rested, her memories played out of the Headmaster. She bit her lip as she remembered the kind old man was no longer with them.
She smiled as she remembered right back to the beginning of getting her Hogwarts letter, and how she told her family and her godfather.
Her eyes opened and she sat up, hand instinctively flying to cover her mouth to stop her from making a sound.
Professor Dumbledore was dead.
And Hermione Granger remembered.
Everything.
***
Thoughts comments, questions?
Disclaimers: This story is based on characters and situations created and owned by J.K Rowling and Bloomsbury Publishing also DC comics and their subsidiaries. No money is being made and no copyright or trademark infringement is intended.
Pairing: None
Notes: Batman/Hp xover. Harry Potter wasn’t the only person in Hogwarts with a godfather. Apologies for the delay. Real life got interesting in ways I really wished it hadn’t!
Previous parts can be found here at my journal: Chapter 1, Chapter 2, Chapter 3, Chapter 4, Chapter 5, Chapter 6, Chapter 7
And now, from the other side.
Reflections.
***
She just knew she was behind in, well, everything. Hermione sniffed as she looked over the incomplete booklist. It was a good thing she didn’t have any real plans this summer or else she would never catch up with all her school work.
She looked over at the two boys in the carriage as they travelled back to London with her.
She would just have to work extra hard to make sure she was ready for next year.
***
Hermione wrinkled her nose as her mother left the room. Something was definitely strange about being home. She shrugged and turned back to her textbook. She was sure she’d work it out eventually.
***
‘… And reports of the dangerous criminal, Sirius Black, on the run. Police are warning that Black is armed and incredibly dangerous. The public are being warned not to approach Black should they see him, but report their sightings immediately…’
‘They didn’t say where he was on the run from.’ Her mother noted. ‘I wonder…’
‘He’s a wizard.’ Hermione interrupted, holding up her copy of one of the wizarding publications she had a subscription to, showing a snarling Sirius Black. ‘Apparently he killed a lot of muggles some years ago.’
Her parents exchanged worried glances.
‘But I’m sure he’ll be caught soon enough.’ She said. ‘After all,’ she nodded in the direction of the television, ‘everyone in the UK knows who he is now.’
***
She wanted a cat. She got a cat. She didn’t care what Ron said. She pouted as she sat down on her bed and settled her new pet onto her lap. After all – who wanted a nasty rat anyway? She shuddered at the thought of Scabbers.
If Crookshanks did eat him she wouldn’t complain too much, although she might put some money towards a new pet for Ron – if he didn’t get too offended, she mused, brushing her hand lovingly down Crookshanks’ beautiful coat.
It was strange though, she pondered as she relaxed, the motions of petting her pet soothing her. She had always been a big fan of cats. But when she was in the shop, some of the bats in the corner had caught her eye – before Crookshanks had appeared. She had always hated bats when she was younger. Now she tended to smile when she saw bats as decorations on Halloween or flying around at night outside the castle. Although she couldn’t for the life of her remember why.
That didn’t mean she liked Professor Snape though.
She still couldn’t believe that old bat had given her such a poor grade on her first piece of work for the year.
***
‘Honestly!’ Hermione exclaimed and marched from the common room to the library. ‘Why do boys have to be so…. immature?’ She demanded under her breath as she started unloading her bags of books onto the desk.
The timeturner was beginning to get to her, she decided with a firm nod of her head.
She needed to get over their immaturity and get on with things. She still had all her homework to get done.
As she sat down and began her essay, she tried to push away how lonely she felt. She wished there was someone who would listen to her. Her parents loved her, but they were so far away and they didn’t really understand the wizarding world at all.
She sighed. Mulling over things was not going to get Professor Snape’s essay finished any quicker.
***
Okay, she shouldn’t have done it – but Malfoy had definitely deserved that smack. She nodded decisively to herself. She flexed her fingers, making sure that she hadn’t done any real damage to her hand.
Then she pulled a bit of a face. Maybe it was time to give up the defence lessons she’d been taking last summer. Violence, muggle-style would get her nowhere in the wizarding world.
It wasn’t like she could beat up every pureblood that deserved it now could she?
***
Rescuing Sirius had definitely been an adrenaline rush! Hermione hugged her knees to her chest as she sat on her bed, hours before leaving Hogwarts at the end of her third year. She wondered what on earth would happen next year. She pulled a face at the thought of the long summer holiday ahead. Spending time with her parents was becoming more and more of a pain. The muggle world was just so… well… boring. What could it offer to someone like her? Even her teachers knew how talented she was – they let her use a timeturner – although she did have to hand that back at the end of the year – but still!
She let go of her knees and settled back down to sleep the last few hours before dawn.
She couldn’t wait for next year!
***
‘Ooooh!’ She pulled a face as the furious sound left her lips. ‘Goblet of Fire indeed. I’ll give them a blasted Goblet of Fire.’ She fumed. ‘How dare they let Harry continue in the competition – he didn’t even put his name in! What on earth is the Headmaster thinking?’ She muttered, heading over to the section on magical contracts that she just knew lived in the extensive Hogwarts library.
She stumbled slightly and then frowned, before turning back the way she had come.
‘I think I should check on Harry.’ She said decisively. ‘He needs me now Ron is being a stubborn idiot.’ All thoughts of magical contracts already out of her head.
***
Krum was watching her again. She ducked her head down behind her book, blushing as she did so.
‘I do wish someone could explain boys to me.’ She murmured to the pages. ‘They just make no sense.’
***
He asked her to the ball. Her! She blinked at her reflection as she pulled a face in the mirror.
What on earth did he see in her – besides her crazy hair – and the fact that his fame didn’t fluster her.
Maybe it was the fame thing.
She pulled another face.
She wrinkled her nose as she considered the whole ‘fame thing’ as a possibility. Why would she be impressed by him? He wasn’t that impressive – not really. She mentally shrugged.
At least she wouldn’t let him down in the dancing stakes. She knew she could dance. Her father had taught her.
A stray thought crossed her mind. Okay – not her father – with his two left feet – but she had been taught by… by…
She blinked again and pulled another face. Well, whoever it was – she knew how to dance. But now she had another dilemma.
What on earth would she wear?
***
She. Would. Not. Cry.
She wouldn’t.
She hugged her knees, and rocked back and forth on her bed, her dress cast away into a case, her hair already undone and her make up off, all ready for bed.
And she would not cry.
Not over stupid Ron Weasley and his stupid ideas of Viktor, nor Harry and how he wasn’t helping her.
And she WOULD. NOT. CRY.
A tear slipped down past her trembling lip. She bit into her lip to stop herself from crying out and her roommates hearing her.
She curled up into a ball on her bed, stuffed her face into her pillow and sobbed.
She hated everyone.
***
Her fifth year was, in spite of Harry’s crazy moods and that awful Umbridge being a pain, not too bad all things considered, Hermione mused as she gazed around the common room. Okay, Voldemort being back was something she could do without, and that awful toad Malfoy still annoyed her no end, and okay – Professor Snape still under marked all her work considering the effort she put in, but overall – so far – this year had been nice and, well, fairly quiet.
She glanced down at the work Umbridge had assigned.
This lack of practical work was ridiculous! Why, everyone knew you needed practical applications for the theory – just like the lessons she used to take for martial arts some years ago in the muggle world. She knew studying the theory didn’t lead to being able to do any of the actions perfectly without practice – so why should spellwork be any different?
She smiled wryly. Of course, telling Umbridge that muggles believed in a combination of theory and practice would not help her case.
She needed something different.
She pondered it awhile.
Maybe… Harry?
***
Sirius was dead!
Hermione still couldn’t believe it.
She had wondered about contacting Harry at home to see how he was, but had then put the thought out of her mind. She was sure he was fine.
She pulled a face as she drank the specially prepared potion for the curse she had gotten at the Ministry and pondered how she was. She was okay – but couldn’t wait to get out of here. Her parents seemed to tiptoe around her these days. She shifted slightly in her bed and winced as the pain increased with her movements.
At least it was only a little while and she could get back to school.
She finished the potion off and began the next.
She hoped next year was better.
***
They appointed Snape? Snape?
Who on earth let Professor Severus Snape teach Defence Against the Dark Arts?
Were they all mad?
Harry needed someone to teach him, so he could make sure next time he encountered Voldemort – and he undoubtedly would encounter him again – of that fact Hermione had no doubt – he would be ready.
Prepared.
Knowledgeable.
Know more than what could be gained out of textbooks.
And talking of textbooks – she wanted him to lose that blasted ‘Half-Blood Prince’ one whilst she was thinking about it.
How dare he top her in potions! He didn’t understand any of it! She had worked and worked and worked – whilst those two lazy boys had copied off her for years! She was done!
***
She felt ill. Sick at the sight of it. How could he not know how she felt? How could he do this to her?
She watched as Ron and Lavender exchanged soppy glances and pushed away her plate.
She wanted, no needed to be alone.
***
Coming around in the Hospital Wing, Hermione felt an awful sense of foreboding.
Something was wrong.
‘What is it – what’s happened?’ She whispered, seeing a figure near her.
Neville Longbottom hurried over to her, he looked devastated.
‘Professor Dumbledore… is dead! He died – not long… Deatheaters…’ Longbottom trailed off. ‘It was Snape – he cast it – Harry saw him!’
Hermione fell back against the pillows.
Dumbledore dead?
She couldn’t take it in. It didn’t make sense. Her mind felt all jumbled up.
‘Thank you Neville.’ She said automatically. ‘For telling me – that is.’
Longbottom nodded. ‘I need to go – Madam Pomfrey needs some more plants from the Greenhouses.’
Hermione nodded wearily. She watched him go out of the door, before closing her eyes, her mind trying to assimilate the news.
As she rested, her memories played out of the Headmaster. She bit her lip as she remembered the kind old man was no longer with them.
She smiled as she remembered right back to the beginning of getting her Hogwarts letter, and how she told her family and her godfather.
Her eyes opened and she sat up, hand instinctively flying to cover her mouth to stop her from making a sound.
Professor Dumbledore was dead.
And Hermione Granger remembered.
Everything.
***
Thoughts comments, questions?
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