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Tom Riddle was stunned speechless.
It took him a long moment to fully process what she'd said. When he finally did, his expression went complicated.
"You're the real evil here," he said. "I was too naive. Forget it — you should be the Dark Lord. Not me."
He thought back to all the secondhand stories he'd heard about Voldemort's operations from decades ago. Utterly amateurish. Embarrassingly low-level.
"And stop calling me Tom Riddle. I'm not worthy of the name anymore. Just call me Little Tom."
He meant it, too. He was completely sincere.
Spending this much time at Hermione's side had done a thorough job of dismantling whatever was left of his ego.
Hermione smiled. "Don't go back to the Ministry of Magic for now. Stay here and keep building the nodes — fill in the details, stoke things from the shadows. I don't plan to show my face. Let HYDRA's influence spread on its own."
Then she turned to Luna. "You shouldn't follow me anymore, either. Go back to Hogwarts. Too many people here want what wizards have. It's still too dangerous for you. When you're strong enough, I'll come get you."
Luna nodded. Hermione reached into her pocket and pulled out a pouch the size of her palm. Luna simply climbed inside, and just like that, she was gone.
Getting a living person into the Marvel world had taken everything Hermione had. She'd burned through more brain cells than she cared to count, pushed her alchemy to its absolute limit, and eventually produced something the magic book recognized as a wondrous item: an Alchemy Pocket.
Because it qualified as a wondrous item, the magic book could store it. It traveled with her between worlds, and she could release it on the other side.
Simple, in theory. The limit was the pocket itself, it could hold roughly one person. There was no packing everything she might want.
...
After sending Luna back to Hogwarts, Hermione returned to the Marvel world.
She was sorting through her next moves when the feeling hit her without warning, a strange pressure, like eyes fixed on her from somewhere far away.
It wasn't an unfamiliar sensation.
She opened her eyes. The corner of her mouth curved up.
"Heimdall, you old voyeur."
Without hesitating, she gave her wand a flick. A golden ring opened in the air. Through it, Asgard's radiant skyline came into view.
Heimdall and Thor were waiting at the shattered end of the Bifrost.
"Miss Granger." Heimdall dipped his head. "My apologies for reaching out this way."
"Hermione!" Thor's laugh boomed across the bridge. He strode forward with both arms open wide. "You're finally here!"
"So it was you looking for me?" Hermione raised an eyebrow and stepped neatly around his hug. "And you made Heimdall carry the message?"
Thor lowered his arms, sheepish, and scratched the back of his head.
"The Bifrost isn't repaired yet. Otherwise I'd have come to you."
Hermione took in the scene. Time had passed since her last visit. Without the Cosmic Cube's energy, there was nothing to restore the Bifrost with, and without the Cosmic Cube as a vessel, the Space Stone couldn't run at full power on its own.
"Somewhere private," Thor said, dropping his voice.
The three of them moved to a secluded platform. Heimdall, reading the room, withdrew to a respectful distance.
Thor's expression had turned serious.
"My father has been acting strange."
"Oh?" Hermione tilted her head, the picture of innocent curiosity. "Strange how?"
"I went to ask him to help me channel dark energy — enough to send me back to Earth. He kept dodging it." Thor paced, brow furrowed hard. "And he said something like, 'Earth has the Avengers. They don't need one more God of Thunder.'"
Hermione's amusement stayed firmly internal. Loki had picked up a decent imitation of Odin's arrogance, she'd give him that. But the details were sloppy.
"And you called me all the way here just to tell me that?" she asked, face giving nothing away.
"Not just that." Thor drew a slow breath. His gaze sharpened. "Hermione, I need your help."
He held her eyes. His tone didn't waver. "I need you to open a portal and send me to Muspelheim."
"Muspelheim?" She raised an eyebrow. "The realm of the Fire Giants? What for?"
"To destroy Surtur." Thor's grip tightened on his hammer. "I've learned of a prophecy. Ragnarok, it begins with Surtur. I have to stop it before he has the chance to bring that destruction."
He paused. Something heavy moved across his face. "If Loki were still alive... he could take me there by ship, through one of Asgard's hidden launch points. But now..."
"Wait." Hermione cut him off. "A ship? Asgard has ships?"
Thor blinked, thrown by the question. Then he let out a slightly pained sigh. "We Asgardians... do have technology. Even if it doesn't quite look like it."
Hermione cast a long, slow look around at the gilded spires, the sweeping medieval grandeur, the general aesthetic of a Renaissance painting come to life.
She shook her head. "Really can't tell."
Thor opened his mouth. Closed it again.
She thought it over, running the calculation quickly in her head.
"I can help you," she said at last. "But I have a condition."
"Name it."
"Once it's done, I want an Asgardian spaceship. And galactic star charts."
Thor stared at her. "You're going into space?"
"Personal business." She didn't elaborate.
"Deal." He didn't even hesitate. "Then let's go find my father and mother. We should tell them our plans."
Hermione nodded. She was quietly curious to see this "Odin" up close, to measure just how well Loki's disguise held.
They arrived at the main hall of the Golden Palace. Thor announced her visit. And the reaction of the figure on the throne nearly made Hermione break.
"Odin's" eyes lit up the instant he saw her. He practically jogged down from the throne, face splitting into a wide, deeply enthusiastic, frankly, fawning, grin, making a beeline straight for her.
"Ah! The esteemed Miss Granger! Welcome! Welcome to Asgard!"
He extended both hands. His whole posture was one long bow.
The corner of Hermione's mouth twitched once, almost too fast to see.
What are you doing?
You're supposed to be Odin.
Around them, the guards and ministers had gone identically blank, the look of people watching their king do something they had absolutely no framework for.
The moment hovered on the edge of becoming catastrophic.
Queen Frigga stepped smoothly forward. "Your Majesty, we have important matters of state to see to shortly. Why don't we let Thor show Hermione around in the meantime?"
She turned to Hermione. The look she gave her lasted only a second, apologetic and knowing, layered with things unsaid, and then she steered "Odin" out of the hall with a gentle, practiced hand.
Thor scratched his head. "You see what I mean! He really has been getting stranger and stranger lately..."
Hermione rolled her eyes and said nothing.
A short while later, Frigga returned alone. She gave Hermione a small nod. "Miss Granger, could I have a word with you? Just the two of us."
Thor took the hint and made himself scarce. Frigga led Hermione deep into the palace, to a private chamber.
The door closed. Frigga let out a long, quiet breath.
"I truly apologize. He is still learning what it takes to play a proper king."
Hermione raised an eyebrow. "You know?"
So Loki had listened. He hadn't hidden it from Frigga, just as she'd suggested. And Frigga, exactly as Hermione had expected, had chosen to go along with it.
➤ Next: Surtur
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