Reading Time: 93 Minutes
Title: An Exiled Necroscope
Author: sarhea
Fandom: Batman, Harry Potter
Genre: Action Adventure, BDSM, Crossover, Het, Romance
Relationship(s): Hermione Granger/Bruce Wayne
Content Rating: NC-17
Warnings: Hate Crimes/Hate Speech, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-con/Dub-con, Violence – Graphic , character bashing, explicit graphic sex
Word Count: 101,000
Summary: Parselmouths are not the only ones hated and feared by wand-users. What would a British witch find in Gotham? Home, Freedom, Purpose, Love, Family? How far will she go to protect what she finds?
Artist: spuddoc
Growth – Christmas Eve
Hermione glanced at her companion through the corner of her eye. Their courtship, their dance, the intricate play of words and actions… it was exhilarating and exhausting.
“Did you enjoy the party? Stella does throw the most entertaining parties and invitations to her private dinners are always highly sought after. Anyone who receives an invitation for her Christmas bash tries to at least drop in.”
Hermione tightened her grip on his forearm twisted around hers. “I know. She does not invite only wealthy or vapid individuals. She introduced me to a physics lecturer running a series of guest lectures at GCU. Some of his theories were quite intriguing.”
She felt him still. “Oh?” His tone was mild but his feelings anything but.
She smiled secretively and rested her head against his bicep. “Nothing like that. David Ackerly is happily married and a grand-father. Even if he wasn’t I did not want to leave Gotham. Besides you take up enough of my time.”
He stared down at her curly head. “Do you resent it?”
Her expression was confused and open. “Resent what?”
“The demands on your time.”
Her expression relaxed and softened. “Of course not Bruce! I’m the sort who always needs to have some sort of project on the go.” She smirked. “Mapping Gotham took a lot of time and effort. So did the research for refining the rituals. I enjoy working on the renewal projects and committees but when more people are involved I don’t feel as much pressure or urgency.” A faint crease marred her brow. “I think I want to continue on Special Projects; magical tools that will help you in your night time activities.”
There was a small silence. “You haven’t mentioned anything about us.”
She touched his cheek. “There will always be an Us Bruce.” Her eyes met his without fear or secrecy. “I will always be there for you.”
He grabbed her wrist and pressed her palm against his slightly bristly cheek. She smiled and shifted closer to brush a chaste kiss against his lips. Bruce resisted the urge to draw it out and turn it intimate. Alfred was driving the limo and Bruce felt too uncomfortable making out with Mia when the man who practically raised him was just a few feet away.
He leaned back against the soft supple leather and released her hand, and watched through hooded eyes as she made some space between them.
“I am a bit surprised though.” She spoke after some minutes.
“Of what?”
“No one made any real comment on our relationship!”
Bruce resisted the urge to laugh at her bewildered expression.
“They’ve seen the two of us going out for a long time Mia. As far as they’re concerned we’re old news.”
Her hands fluttered. “But we weren’t Together together then.”
“They don’t know that. Only we do.” Bruce pointed out. “The tabloids will speculate but unless they catch us all over each other on film it isn’t going to sell papers. We’ve been a couple in public eye for months now.”
Hermione nodded slowly as the limo slowed and turned into a private road.
“We’re here.” She murmured as the vehicle pulled up to Wayne Towers and Alfred came around to open the door. She hesitated before coming to a decision. “Do you want to come up for a coffee?”
Bruce studied her with hooded eyes. From any other woman it would be an invitation to stay the night. But Mia wasn’t as experienced or blasé as his old lovers. But he had been restraining himself from acting on his caveman like impulses, allowing her to set the pace.
“I’d love to.”
They never got around to the coffee.
He broke the kiss and gripped the lapels of her shrug to push it off. Dazedly she complied without protest and allowed him to pull her into the living spaces of her apartment. Along the way she gained enough sense to kick her shoes off and pull him into her bedroom.
“Are you sure?” His voice was low and gravelly. Batman.
She reached up behind her and tugged down the zip of her dress, shrugging the gown off her shoulders and down her arms to gather around her waist before sliding to pool around her stocking-clad feet. The thin silk ended in bands of elasticized black lace around the tops of her thighs that matched black satin and lace bikini panties she wore. She was completely nude from the waist up.
Bruce couldn’t stop from reaching out to trace the scar that started at her sternum and almost bisected her torso at an angle, shoulder to opposite side.
She paled and tried to turn away.
“No,” he told her firmly before dropping to his knees before her and gripping her waist to nuzzle her belly, to lick and lay kisses upon the scar tissue.
He could feel the minute tremors in the flesh beneath his lips as she whimpered his name. “Bruce!” and clenched her hands in his hair, nails scraping his scalp. He liked it. He wanted more. He slipped two fingers under the bands of fabric at her waist, stroking the skin underneath, tugging it slightly down to expose the curls between her legs. They were glistening with her arousal and he ached to taste it.
Fabric tore at the seams and fluttered to the parquet floor. He focused on the liquid heat seeping from her core.
She gasped as he guided her legs over his shoulders, gripping her hips to draw close enough to smell and taste.
“Bruce!”
His tongue was on her flesh, drawing down through the fleshy, over the swollen nub to thrust into her clenching opening. He could feel the walls of her cunt fluttering around his tongue. She must have been aroused long before they left the party to be so close to the edge. She was quivering, muscles in her thighs and belly spasming. The only thing holding her up was his grip on her ass. He inhaled deeply and dived into devouring every drop of ambrosia seeping from her core.
She screamed as she came on his tongue, gushing in his mouth, on his face. He needed more. He needed to see her face, to watch her body writhe and take every inch of his cock. He needed to get in her. Now.
It took a bit of coordination to get Mia on the bed where she watched him strip with dazed, heated eyes. He watched her slide two slim fingers through the fresh liquid seeping from her cunt. He gripped her hand and sucked on the fingers, cleaning every bit of sticky fluid.
“How do you want this?” he asked.
She blinked slowly. “I don’t care,” she told him bluntly. “I need you inside me. I need to feel you between my legs, above me, inside me.”
He knelt on the edge of the bed and slipped one, two fingers into her cunt, scissoring gently to work her open for him. She mewled and shifted minutely, spreading her thighs open to accommodate.
“Birth control?”
“I’m good. Potion.” She was quivering again, tremors spreading up her torso. “One dose a month.” Her nipples were hard erect nubs.
He worked a third finger in manipulating her clit with his thumb. She writhed and arched off the bed, hands clenching on the bedspread below. His free hand tightened on her hip to hold her down. She was going to bruise but he didn’t care. He could see the faint glow beneath her skin as she came hard on his fingers practically filling his hand with her cum. He could not resist dripping it along her scar and across her breasts.
She whimpered softly as she came down from her high, barely aware of him manipulating her legs until her legs were on either side of his hips, knees bent and raised, her cunt open and exposed. It was easy to slide his cock into her and sink deep. Her reaction was to bite her lower lip and raise her hips. He slid a few more inches before her body resisted. She writhed on his cock and moaned.
She gripped his wrist where he was holding her hip and shifted minutely. “Don’t stop,” she begged.
“I won’t,” he promised.
It wasn’t difficult keep going. Hermione was beautiful in her raw unrestrained state. He could feel the heat beneath her skin, see the sparks forming on the creamy expanse rising and sinking into him. He could feel the burn in his blood but it didn’t hurt, it excited him. He wanted her to never forget this, to never forget him. She was so sensitive and responsive she came two more times before he came hard, flooding her with cum.
Bruce wasn’t sure how much time had passed by the time he regained enough self control to slide out and shift to the side. His heart was pounding and muscles ached. It had been a long time since he last indulged, since Hermione started her Project. The burn did not fade but gentled and spread throughout his body, tingling in his extremities. He could feel his arousal rekindle, his cock harden and rise.
She opened her eyes and licked her lips. “Again? Please?”
Bruce smirked and kissed her hard. “As you wish.”
A warm muscular arm reached out across her torso to drag her close to an equally hard and muscular chest.
“Sore?” He definitely did not sound guilty or ashamed. If anything he sounded smug and pleased with himself.
She could not completely stifle the moan that escaped her lips as his hands moved lower over her breasts belly and groin, the warm heat soothing and arousing at the same time.
“I need a long hot bath.” She mumbled. “And a bruise-heal potion.”
Bruce lifted his torso to look down on her with a concerned expression. “Are you in much pain? Was I too rough?”
Hermione smiled and waved her hand in dismissal of his fears. “It’s just been a long time since I had a lover. And I definitely have not used those muscles so… actively in years.”
Bruce was faintly troubled. “Not even a one-night stand? Someone from a bar?”
Hermione snorted softly. “Goodness no. The only action I’ve had since I moved to Gotham was from a vibrator.” She shifted until she was pressed against him. “It isn’t like I haven’t had offers Bruce. It is just that trust is a big issue with me. Sleeping with someone involves a certain amount of vulnerability. Hotel rooms are unsecured and bringing him to my flat would only have involved explanations and complications. It was easier to do without.”
“And what about Steve?” Bruce asked with studied indifference. “Alfred mentioned you were quite sought after among the First Nation enclaves.”
Hermione snorted. “They were doing the same thing oldblood families in Europe have done for centuries. They were looking for a broodmare, not a lover.”
Bruce choked and coughed. “Broodmare?” He protested. “Surely there were a few who were interested in Mia Granger.” He brushed a kiss against her temple.
“Oh yes. But I wasn’t interested in a relationship at the time. I needed to learn as much as I could, map Gotham, research the rituals, keep up with my circuits. There simply wasn’t enough time and I had my own commitments to Gotham City. They would have expected me to move to an enclave and I couldn’t… I still can’t do that.” She felt his stillness and hurried to reassure him. “I Feel for this land Bruce. I’ve bled and sweated for it. I’ve poured my magic and power into it. Everywhere I walk I hear the whispers and hopes and dreams of the dead for the future. I can feel the power surging beneath. I can sense the potential for so much more and I want to see it flourish and flower. This is my city Bruce, my home. I can’t leave.”
His voice held a faint tremor. “Many asked me why I stay in Gotham. Why I wear the suit and go out each night. Your words…”
She twisted and reached up to draw him down for a kiss.
“You don’t have to say anything.” Then her expression lightened and turned teasing. “If you want to show your appreciation you can draw a bath for me. I have a potions kit under the sink that should have bruise-heal. It’s a light mauve.”
He smiled. “I’ll do that after a quick shower. Don’t bother with breakfast. Alfred and the boys will be at the Manor to open gifts.” He glanced at the alarm clock. “It’s tradition to start around ten. To give everyone time to recover from any late parties or patrols.”
Hermione glanced at the clock and began making adjustments to her plans. “Sounds doable.” She smirked up at her lover. “You know, if we Apparate we can leave after nine-fifty.”
He chuckled. “Sounds wonderful. But I would prefer to drive. I’m certain there are reporters waiting to get a couple of good shots. I think most of the tabloid reporters know we’ve spent the night together in Wayne Towers by now. I see no reason to disappoint them by sneaking out.” He picked up her hand and brushed a kiss against the center of her palm. “I want everyone to know we are together.”
Hermione frowned faintly as she considered the situation. “All right. But no press conferences without letting me know.” She chewed on her lower lip. “I’m a bit worried. Hermione Granger is quite well-known in the British enclaves. As your girlfriend there will definitely be articles and photos in the mortal European newspapers. A newblood might recognize me and report it.”
“You’ve changed a great deal. Your eyes are a lighter honey brown, almost gold. And you usually wear your hair up in a restrained up-do. Your style and wardrobe have also changed a great deal, more business casual. And Granger is not an uncommon name and everyone knows Alfred is originally from Britain, he can give you a partial alibi for a manufactured background. Your first name is very memorable though.”
Hermione thought hard before making a decision. “Call me Mia in public. I’ll start the process of getting it legally changed as well. Sooner or later it will catch on and be used more often than Hermione.”
Bruce hesitated. “Are you sure?”
Hermione smiled faintly. “Not really. But I’m used to it. It won’t be that big of an adjustment to respond to it.”
Then he sighed even as he smiled. “Well great. Guess we have to come up with another name that only good friends can use.”
Hermione chuckled. “I’m sure Tim or Dick will be able to think of Something.”
Alfred was smiling broadly as he set out a plate of scrambled eggs and bacon.
“Good morning Master Timothy.” He practically sang.
Tim blinked feeling very confused. “Good morning Alfred. Did something happen?”
But Alfred did not answer, just smiled in that smug knowing way of his. “Miss Barbara and Master Richard will be joining us to open gifts but Miss Barbara is running a little late.”
Tim nodded. “Okay. Is Bruce up?”
Alfred smirked. “I’m afraid I do not know. Master Bruce chose to overnight in town.”
Tim was taken aback. “He patrolled? I didn’t see him last night.”
Alfred hesitated before responding. “I’m afraid you misunderstood Master Timothy. He spent the night in Wayne Towers.” A delicate pause. “With Miss Granger.”
The scrambled eggs fell from the fork. “Oh.” Tim blushed. “Oh!”
Alfred hid his smile. “Yes. Oh. I’m uncertain as to their plans but I expect they will call and let us know.”
Tim dropped his fork and rubbed his eyes. “Oh God! How am I going to look at Mia in the face!” He moaned. “She’s like a sister!”
“And all sisters eventually marry and make their siblings uncles and aunts.” Alfred pointed out briskly. “Get used to it.” He added heartlessly.
“Get used to what?” Dick Grayson asked as he entered the kitchen and picked up a plate to fill it with scrambled eggs and rashers.
An inner devil loosened Tim’s tongue. “Mia having a sex life since Bruce definitely spent the night with her.”
The older male barely managed to keep from dropping his plate.
“He What!?!”
Tim batted his lashes. “That’s what Alfred told me.”
The elderly butler looked down his nose before correcting the teen. “I said Master Bruce spent the night in Wayne Towers with Miss Granger. And that you should get used to the idea of someone you see as a sister being intimate because she is probably going to make you an elder brother or uncle. Eventually.”
Dick groaned as he set down his plate and sat down. “Too Much Information! I don’t want to know if the old man is getting lucky!”
Alfred smirked. “Why Master Richard you should be very interested.”
“And why should I care?” Dick inquired warily.
“If the Master is occupied as it were he is more likely to relax and allow you to ‘slack off’ as it were.” The butler pointed out. “Not completely of course but enough for you to have a few more hours for your own activities.”
The boys glanced at each other.
“You know Mia is rather curious and persistent.” Tim began.
“And she loves reading and learning new things.” Dick added with a broad grin.
“If anyone can distract Bruce she can.” Tim noted.
“Kama Sutra can be very educational.” Dick grinned wickedly. “Especially if she wants to apply it in real life.”
Tim choked before speaking with quiet dignity. “Actually I was thinking about a spa get away for couples.”
Dick snorted and waved away the idea. “Too tame. But there are a few websites that could be quite educational.”
Tim glared at his elder brother. “I don’t think Mia would be interested in your porn links.”
Dick smirked. “Don’t knock it till you’ve tried it. Besides I wasn’t thinking of porn.” He glanced at Alfred. “Do you know when they’ll be back?” The butler shook his head. “No worries. I should have enough time to place an on-line order and wrap my ‘gift’.”
Tim was definitely afraid now. “Dick…” He trailed off warningly.
“Don’t worry. It will be nothing crude. Very tasteful.” He grabbed his plate and hurried out of the kitchen.
Tim glanced at Alfred. “What do you think he’s going to do Alfred?”
The butler shook his head. “Knowing Master Richard I don’t want to know.”
When he entered the family room he could clearly see the new intimate familiarity and acceptance between the pair. The faint absent touches, the way Bruce did not shift away from her soft weight.
“I’m here!” He announced as he dropped into a chair close to Tim. Luckily Babs had called and said she was spending Christmas morning with her dad. She’d stop by for lunch and to exchange her gifts so she wouldn’t see Dicks gift for Mia Granger.
Times expression was pained as he looked away pointedly. Then the gift exchange began.
Alfred received a six month ballroom dance membership from Tim, a prepaid coupon for a series of culinary lessons hosted by the Head Chef of The Embassy Restaurant from Dick, a two-week getaway in San Francisco from Bruce, a silver engraved pocket watch from Mia.
When the butler opened it he was first puzzled then intrigued. Curious the other males crowded to see. Inside was an old-fashioned watch face coloured green from 12 to 6, red from 6 to 9, and black from 9 to 12. There were three hands labelled B, T, D spinning around before all three settled into the green zone.
“It is a status indicator.” Hermione explained. “Green is healthy and alive. Red is dangerously injured but alive. Black is dead. The hands are keyed to Bruce, Tim, and Dick. I hope it helps when they go out each night.”
Alfred nodded and smiled. “Thank you. Sometimes it is the Not Knowing that is worst.” He closed the watch and tapped it with one finger. “This can also help in case they are out of touch and unable to communicate.”
Hermione nodded solemnly. “The watch is keyed to you. If anyone else opens it they will see an ordinary analogue watch face.” She glanced around. “I didn’t feel comfortable asking Barbara for a blood sample to add a hand for her.”
Alfred nodded. “That is perfectly fine Miss Granger.”
Bruce was intrigued. “Can you keep track of anyone’s well-being?”
“Oh yes. But getting more detailed information is more difficult. Gringotts use a similar system to determine if a client is alive or dead, should a will should be executed.”
Tim and Dick received clothes and tech toys and gift certificates but their gifts from Hermione were more magical.
Dick received a small leather case packed with silver, crystal, and glass bottles and phials filled with various liquids. There was also a small booklet stuck under the lid.
“Emergency Field Potions.” Hermione explained sternly. “I did a lot of research to find potions that would work on mortals without any bad side effects. It won’t replace a doctor or hospital but it will keep you alive. Just measure out small personal doses for your field kit. The booklet will tell you how to measure based on your mass and age. Pain numb, bruise ease, antiseptic, all-heal, whole-skin, minor skele-grow, blood replenishing, pepper up. Try not to over-use it because certain potions become less effective if constantly used like bacteria become resistant to antibiotics.”
Dick nodded and vowed to be careful.
Tim received a gift cashmere pullover and a set of keys in a black pouch that confused him. Each key was tagged and coloured differently. And there was a small sheet of paper in the pouch listing colours, four locations around Gotham, and Latin phrases.
“What is this?”
Hermione’s expression was serious and worried. “Tim, I’ve created a set of Portkeys for you. I know you can look after yourself but I worry so please carry it with you. Right now the Nodes are the only places that naturally mask Portkey signatures so they are the destinations. The activation phrases are in Latin. Once you get to a node you will have to make your way to a bolthole. I didn’t want to create a Portkey to the Cave or Wayne Towers in case it gets traced.”
Tim nodded solemnly.
Bruce’s gift from Hermione was just as personal. A wide bicep band made from a silvery metal etched with runes and bejewelled.
“Protection. It will deflect undirected curse energies and that includes tasers and blasters into the ground five inches from the closest foot. You’ll have to practice to find the limits.”
And the second was a small leather bound notebook filled with hand written entries. Some were messy others neat.
“I spent some time talking to your parents and I wrote down all I could. I’m still looking for a spell or ritual that would let you speak directly to them.”
And then it was Hermione’s turn to open her gifts.
A set of diaries from Alfred. Diaries covering Bruce’s birth, childhood and teenage years.
“I never kept a typical personal journal. Most of my entries were about my work and Master Bruce. I’m not too comfortable talking about the past but I hope it gives you more of an insight and understanding.” Bruce groaned. Alfred smirked. “Do not worry Master Bruce, I didn’t write anything truly embarrassing. Such incidents are best shared verbally.”
A set of six over-sized colourful cashmere silk shawls from Tim who’d noticed Hermione liked to wrap something around her shoulders to ward off the cold and snuggle.
A rosewood box from Bruce containing the focus stones used in the Cleansing Rituals. The fist and tangerine sized gems of unrivalled clarity, cut, and caret.
“Don’t cut them up. Keep them as your Ritual Set. If anyone will use them wisely you will.” He smirked. “I would prefer if you stored them in the Cave though.”
Hermione laughed and nodded.
Then Dick presented his gift, a leather portfolio with a flourish. Warily Hermione removed the silver ribbon and opened the folder; and blushed deeply as she flicked through the laser printouts on heavy expensive stock. Dick grinned broadly while Tim turned his face to the ceiling and Alfred whistled.
Curious Bruce leaned to see what had caused such a reaction. And stilled.
His eldest ward had placed and paid several on-line orders for Mia that would be delivered in the next few days. A complete unabridged translation of the Kama Sutra. Print outs of two wispy and silky baby dolls in champagne and magenta, a navy blue satin and black lace corset, a chocolate brown leather bustier in Mia’s sizes that would be delivered before New Year’s Eve. A seven hundred dollar gift voucher for lingerie from Victoria Secrets.
His voice and tone was mild but his aura anything but.
“And just what are you trying to imply Dick?”
“Nothing at all.” Dick answered hurriedly. “Just trying to keep things moving between the two of you. You do have a tendency of falling into old habits Bruce.”
Hermione snorted. “You want me to distract Bruce so he doesn’t get on your case.” She accused the younger male.
Dick blanched and shook his head. “That too. But mainly to help the two of you. Bruce gets too distracted by work.” He snuck a peek at his adoptive father. “Hopefully it will encourage him to go home as it were.”
Bruce glared at his eldest son.
Hermione looked torn between amusement and fury. Amusement won out. She laughed as she closed the portfolio and leaned against her lover, shifting until he wrapped an arm around her shoulder to keep her still.
“You know if he starts cutting back on his patrols he’s simply going to increase yours.”
Both males glanced at each other then shrugged.
“That’s okay. Bruce has done this a lot longer and alone. At least we have back-up.”
Hermione glanced up at the man next to her. “Well, should we let him off?”
Bruce struggled for an instant then sighed as he flicked open the portfolio to study a particular lace and satin creation. “Why not. He does have a point.” He eyed Dick. “And just how did you get her sizes?” His voice held an audible threat.
Dick paled and gulped. “Research.” He squeaked. “Before I met her.” He looked apologetically at Hermione. “You ordered some of your clothes on-line through Sears. Your sizes were in the profile.”
Hermione waved her hand. “As long as you didn’t go through my underwear drawer.” She gave him the evil eye. “If you did that I’d have to hex you.”
Dick sputtered and waved his hands defensively as everyone around laughed.
Bruce Wayne, Dick Grayson and Tim Drake had completely bought into the hoax perpetrated by Hermione Granger. And the woman herself was serenely complacent, more interested in eating her dessert than defending herself.
“More tea Miss Granger?”
Alfred Pennyworth held the pot at ready, hovering near her elbow solicitously.
Lucius was dismayed. “Alfred!”
The butler turned towards the businessman. “Yes Mr. Fox?”
“Surely you don’t believe this…” He flapped his hand before spitting the words out. “Hocus pocus nonsense!?!”
The Englishman finished preparing the cup for the young woman before speaking.
“Mr. Fox, you are asking me to lie about what I’ve seen with my own two eyes.”
“But magic?” Lucius was dismayed. “I can duplicate the tricks of any magician with technology and engineering.”
Hermione Granger chuckled softly. “Mr. Fox subscribes to Clarkes Law. Sufficiently advanced technology appears to be magic. That is true in most cases. Think of magic as an ESPer power, a meta with the ability to reshape reality and bypass certain conventional laws of physics.” Lucius was taken aback by the hints of gold flecks swirling in her hazel eyes. “Most of these specialized metas use focus tools such as wands to channel their unique energy, to cast spells.”
Lucius shook his head. “I can’t believe an entire class of metas managed to hide themselves for centuries.”
Hermione’s expression was grim. “Oh but they did. They still do.”
“Someone must know.”
“Certain government officials do.” Hermione agreed without hesitation. “I know for certain the Prime Minister in Britian knew. I am uncertain of who knows in America. When non-magicals find out their memories are either wiped or they are geas bound to Not speak of it to those who do not know. The only reason why I’ve gotten away with sharing the truth with Bruce is the enclaves have labelled Gotham City as No Wizards Land.” She nodded grimly. “Yes. They’ve known something was off in Gotham for a long time but they never bothered to do anything about it. They don’t care about what happens to non-magicals, to mortals.”
“But you do?” Lucius was sceptical.
Hermione took a long sip before she set her cup down. “My parents were mortals. They taught me to never back down from what I believed in, to see everyone as equals. Those views got me into a lot of trouble in the enclaves. The attitude there is very Victorian and class and status conscious. Blood purity.” The gold flecks swirled into pools of molten gold. “Oligarchies and Nazi eugenics.” She spat distastefully. “Gotham is my home. I won’t tolerate those attitudes infecting this city. There are already enough problems with poverty and crime.”
“So the real estate purchases and land transfers are to keep these mages out?”
Hermione smiled faintly. “Lucius you heard us correctly the first time around. Your stumbling block is the concept of magic. Once you integrate that into your worldview everything else will fall into place.” She gestured at the thick portfolio on the table near his hand. “That has printouts of our research and reports. They are charmed so only you and the five of us can read them. Anyone else will simply read a boring technical manual on car engine maintenance.” She smiled faintly. “Feel free to test it.”
She picked up an apple and cupped it in her hand. “I don’t feel like apples tonight.” The red fruit glowed and shifted then the light faded leaving her holding a ripe peach. She held it out to the older man who took it with trembling hands and bit into it. The sweet juices of a just-ripe peach were unmistakable.
He took an apple from the bowl and examined it before holding it out to her.
“Can you…” He hesitated. “Change this to any fruit?”
“Yes.”
“Then change it to a pomegranate.”
The red shiny surface became pinker and more dull and reshaped. Lucius took the fruit and tore open the leathery outer skin and spilled the jewel-like fleshy seeds onto a porcelain dish.
“How?”
“My old Transfiguration instructor can give you the whole gamut of the theory and principles behind transfiguration but it boils down to this. I’m breaking the bonds between the atoms and rearranging them using my magic, my energy as a channel, guide and mould. There are limits; transfigured food can only get nutrients from what I’m transfiguring them from. If I transfigure a stone into a loaf of bread it isn’t going to be nutritious, in fact it will only give the person who eats it a stomach ache when the transfiguration breaks down.” Her voice was cool and clinical, almost professorial in how she described the magical process. “Like-to-like is easiest and longest lasting of course. The farther away the transfiguration is from the base substance the more effort is required to bridge the gap and to maintain it, like organic to metal. Volume and scope also are important factors. To make something out of nothing the mage must Conjure the substance, convert energy to matter, a very draining and inherently unstable process. There are ways to make a transfiguration last forever, mainly through anchoring runes and group casting but even so there are basic rules that cannot be overcome. Life cannot be created, only the barest semblance through animation. Think of a primitive robot that follow a basic set of rules laid down during the creation. The most sophisticated animation is the golem of Jewish myth. Runes, Arithmancy, charms, and transfiguration are used when creating and animating a golem. To make it powerful, damage resistant and durable.
Lucius scooped up some of the fleshy red seeds. A burst of tart-and-sweet spread across his tongue. Perfect ripeness.
But he still wasn’t convinced. Not fully. But he was getting there.
Hermione saw it. “Take some time and read the material Lucius. Look up the crime and poverty statistics for yourself if you do not believe it. If you want to see more I will be doing a minor ritual tonight, eleven o’clock. You are more than welcome to witness.”
Lucius frowned but nodded slowly. “I think I’ll do just that.”
Bruce smiled faintly and deftly turned the conversation to renewal projects that would be financed from the Eos Trust in partnership with Wayne Enterprises.
The four men watched the couple trace out a triangle using salt on the black-white marble tiles of the ballroom, two points towards each edge of the wide French doors leading to the balcony.
Dick smirked. “Are you convinced?”
Lucius made a face. “The statistics have changed. But I’m not so certain she is the cause! There are so many groups working towards changing this city!”
“And we are not denying that Mr. Fox.” Alfred spoke calmly. “Just pointing out these groups came about After Miss Granger began her work. And she is a key player in many of these groups.”
Lucius opened his mouth and then shut it. He could not refute those words. He forced his mind into exploring other avenues.
“Why isn’t anyone helping them?” Lucius asked softly.
It was Tim who answered. “The Master of the House must follow the lead of the Priestess.”
Lucius frowned. “Priestess?”
Tim snorted. “Call it whatever you want but bottom line is some powerful beings have tapped Mia as their mortal agent. When they want something done she has to jump. Luckily her main patron is not too obnoxious. He wants her to educate the populace, to teach them the proper way of doing things magically; not to convert worshippers.”
“So what Is she doing?”
“Reaffirming allegiances. Eight times a year between solstices and equinoxes the ties between her and her patron are supposed to be renewed.” Tim hesitated. “He fills her with his power. With each time her body adjusts to handle more of his power. In case things get so bad that only a full-blown avatar can avert the disaster.”
Dick shifted and spoke. “Mia is different, very rare among mages. She speaks to the dead. She can channel the Gods and Higher Powers. In Ancient Greek myth she would be called a Pythia or Sybil.”
By now the couple finished laying out a design traced in salt, a triangle suspended within a circle, each three arc marked with a specific sigil representing the Ka, Ba, and Sheut.
Bruce brushed a kiss against her lips before stepping back and moving away from her, closer to the other men.
Hermione stepped into the center of the ritual circle and raised her hands up to the ceiling. Her lips whispering something in soft, inaudible tones.
The salt crystals began to glow, emitting a soft white light from within.
Then she began to glow, radiate a faint gold halo. Her clothes shimmered into motes and ribbons of gold energy that grew and flowed, reshaped around her into a white shift-like dress. More streamers wrapped around her torso and limbs, solidifying into headdress, pendant-chains, belts, bands, and bracelets. Accessories made of gold and studded with precious and semi-precious stones.
Lucius Fox watched with wide eyes and an awed expression as she made a gesture. A forearm length shaft of wood appeared in her grip and grew into a staff nearly as tall as she, one end angled, the other ending in crescent horns.
She swirled the staff in a series of graceful motions ending with a sharp jab that released a stream of blue energy that flowed into the outline of an obelisk before filling it with more power that condensed into matter, into a waist-high faceted column of black polished obsidian.
Then she held out her hands at chest level, palms up. An oversized leather tome materialized above her hands and opened, pages flying before they stopped at a particular point. Absently she reached out and plucked a glass pen from midair before dipping the tip into an inkwell that materialized just seconds later.
The fingers of her left hand skimmed over the pages, over the tiny script covering the thick parchment pages as her right made notations at particular points humming softly. Occasionally she stopped, tilted her head to face particular corner and smiled sadly before turning the pages and making more notations. At those moments she spoke clearly.
“Brian Davidson. Accidental electrocution. Houston.”
“Tracey Ellis. Acute respiratory failure. New York.”
“Surinder Singh. Car accident. Mumbai.”
“Xu Ling. Hypothermia. Beijing.”
“Esteban Rodrigeuz. Knife wound. Bogota.”
“John Blake. Drug overdose. Miami.”
“Jenna Robertson. Gunshot wound. Los Angeles.”
And so on.
With each name she spoke the name, city and dates etched themselves in a wash of gold on the smooth polished obsidian obelisk. Covering the black surfaces in gold script.
Lucius frowned and turned to his companions. “Why aren’t you doing anything?”
Bruce answered. “At this point the information is useless. They are dead. She is speaking to their spirits to make the notations.”
“Does she do this often?”
“Only for ten minutes on festival days. And she only makes entries for those who die during those ten minutes. If she stays within the circle for too long it causes too much strain on her body.” Cool blue eyes dared the older man to comment.
“Jessica Timmins. Internal haemorrhage. Gotham.”
Then she smiled brilliantly. “Welcome Lawrence Timmins. Welcome Laura Timmins. Enjoy the gift of life your mother gave the two of you and your father.”
Lucius could see red trail from one nostril over her lips and down her chin to stain the chest of her white tunic-shift.
“Mia.” Bruce growled in low warning tones. “You’re at your limits.”
Hermione frowned but nodded and set the glass pen upon the floating inkwell before she closed the book shut. A small whirlwind swirled over the tome before it vanished in a shower of sparks and light. She gestured at the obelisk that floated before it began shrinking until it was less than ten inches tall and covered with faint gold texture that used to be script. Then it floated over to her hands.
She pressed a kiss against it before pressing it close to her torso, between her breasts and closed her eyes to inhale deeply. When they opened they were pools of white fire. And then she spoke in deep hollow resonating tones.
“Do you have an answer to the question?”
Bruce stepped forward and moved to the apex point of the triangle.
“Yes.”
The being possessing Hermione Granger cocked her head and made a gesture.
“Then tell me, suitor of my priestess.”
Bruce spoke softly but all heard him.
“You asked Mia to select a new Heart Name, one with significance to her rebirth in Gotham. Her Ren is Jewel, for she is a jewel beyond price.”
Not-Hermione allowed the obelisk and staff to float to the ground and reached out to take his hands. Fire burned in his cupped palms and coalesced into something solid and gold and embedded with gems and runes.
The white fire in her eyes flickered out and then she spoke in normal but hoarse tones.
“And Bruce is Kage, the Shadow in the Night.”
Fire burned in her own hands to create a similar cartouche pendant with different runes and gem stones.
Carefully he held out pendant and latched the clasp onto the chain already around her neck, and arranged it so the cartouche pendant rested behind the larger one.
Hermione conjured a long black silk cord and strung the pendant she held onto it before dropping the loop of black silk over his head and around his neck. Her hand reached out to play with the cartouche pendant briefly before tucking it inside the neckline of his tee and then patting it through the thin layer of knit cotton.
Bruce lifted her chin with two fingers and used a tissue to wipe away the evidence of the nose bleed.
“Head ache?”
“A small one.” She admitted before smiling. “But I can bear it. I can bear a lot of things if I’m with people who care. If I’m with you.” She spoke the last words in softer tones.
He bent to brush a kiss over her lips resisting the urge to ravage her. She had to be exhausted and wrung out. As though to confirm his thoughts she sagged against his chest and did not fight as he swung her up bridal style.
“Alfred, please bring a tray to the Sage reception room.” He kicked at the salt circle, breaking it and releasing a powerful storm of emotions and potential. “Dick, Tim, you know the drill. Wipe down the tiles with rosemary oil and distilled water after sweeping up the salt. Save the salt. Mia will dispose of it later.”
Hermione shifted against his chest. “My wand.” She mumbled.
Tim was there in seconds, holding out the staff and the shrunken obelisk. “Here.”
Hermione accepted the shaft of wood that shrank in her hands to a length less than her forearm but she refused to take the obelisk.
“Give it to Lucius. Let him try to uncover its secrets.” She smiled tiredly at the older man. “You may want to use a microscope, to find out what you can see when you magnify of the surface.”
Lucius stared at the young woman so carefully cradled in his employers arms and knew all his doubts were fading and shattering under the weight of her convictions.
“I will.”
“How much longer?” Luna asked impatiently. They had used International trains to reach Salem, then Portkeyed to reach one of the smaller towns outside Gotham. Mr. Collinson had then Apparated Luna to the docks and then gone to buy tickets.
“Almost there.” He promised her. “I’m not going to Gotham myself. It is a terrible place. I’ll make sure you get on the correct ferry and call the information to Ms. Jones. She’ll meet you on the docks. Wait for thirty minutes. If she isn’t there use the Portkey to get to Salem. I’ve paid the inn to hold the room for two more days, and I’ll be there just in case something goes wrong. If you meet her without any difficulty just ask Ms. Jones to send the inn key with my remaining payment.”
Luna nodded agreeably and followed his directions to join the queue waiting to board Lady Edith departing at quarter past ten to Ranleigh Ferry. After twenty minutes the ferry was full and pulling away from the mainland and moving towards the tall glittering towers on the horizon. She was vaguely aware of the Muggle children pointing at her strawberry shaped earrings and butter-beer cork necklace. She didn’t let it distract her. Her mind was set on the future and the past. She was going to see Hermione.
After five long years she was finally going to get the chance to have a proper talk with the Gryffindor witch. Hermione might not have believed Luna but she was never cruel or spiteful, not like Luna’s fellow Ravenclaws or witches like Ginny Weasley who pretended to be friendly and supportive while secretly laughing behind Luna’s back. Hermione was up-front, impatient, loyal, and fiercely protective. Luna wondered how Hermione’s Destiny interacted with the witch; did he truly love and desire her or was he reserved and cold?
Luna Lovegood couldn’t wait to see Hermione’s Dark Knight.
He stiffened when a heavily shrouded form emerged from the crowd and raised a hand to push back the hood of the knee-length chocolate brown cloak to reveal a delicate pale face surrounded by a coronet of platinum braids. An old-fashioned style favoured by Mia.
Wide pale blue eyes turned in his direction before she waved that same hand and called out a greeting.
“Hermione!”
Hermione Granger smiled broadly as she walked quickly to meet the unconventional Ravenclaw, her arms open wide.
“Luna!”
The two witches fell into each other’s arms and hugged each other tightly.
“I’m so glad you accepted my invitation Luna.”
The fey-minded witch smiled. “I was merely waiting for it Hermione. When Mr. Collinson contacted me it was easy to get a lawyer and agent to wrap up my affairs in Britain.”
Hermione’s expression fell. “Luna I’m so sorry about your father.”
Luna shook her head. “Don’t be. His health was never the best after the Malfoy dungeons. At least now he’s with Mummy.”
Hermione looped her arm through Luna’s and walked slowly away from the docks. “What happened to The Quibbler? I thought you wanted to be the editor or write for it.”
Luna sighed softly. “It was Daddy’s dream. With the new Ministry rules and regulations England is not a very comfortable place to live in. I’ve spent most of my time outside and in the field doing research on Magical Creatures in Russia and Scandinavia.”
Hermione nodded thoughtfully. “I heard you Apprenticed with Newt Scamander.” Her pale brown eyes narrowed. “In fact you are engaged to his grand-son Rolf.”
Luna waved her hand. “A pretence. Rolf wanted an excuse to avoid matrimony like me. We had a convenient arrangement. I ended it before I left and returned his ring.”
Hermione blinked. “Really?”
“Uh huh. He’s having an affair with a married witch, I won’t say who, but the husband has been in St Mungo’s Permanent Spell Damage ward for ten years now. One of the old fashioned traditional sorts who insisted on very harsh penalties for ending marriages in the marriage contract. It’s odd he didn’t insist on a fidelity clause from his wife in the same contract though.” Luna mused blithely. “I suppose he didn’t have the imagination to even consider the possibility of his wife cheating on him.”
She looked up and smiled at the two young men who choked on coughing sputters at her blunt words. The older man with black hair and dark blue eyes smiled in a reserved manner even as his eyes studied her before he spoke.
“Mia, I think we should get to the car before continuing. We may have undesirable eavesdroppers.” He jerked his chin to the side.
Hermione smiled warmly at him before she made introductions indicating each in turn. “Luna, this is Bruce Wayne, my employer and a very close friend. These are his adoptive sons, Richard Grayson and Timothy Drake. They prefer to be called Dick and Tim. Guys, this is Luna Lovegood.”
There was a round of polite greetings before Bruce Wayne herded them through the crowd and towards a dark grey limo. Once everyone was in and the limo was pulling away Luna smiled at Hermione.
“I told you that you would find your destiny, your Dark Knight.” She gestured at Bruce. All the males in the car tensed but Luna ignored them and continued to speak in a blithe carefree fashion. “I see the bright red bird and the blue hawk also follow the shadowed knight.”
Hermione’s eyes narrowed. “How much do you really See Luna?”
“Bits and pieces.” Luna confessed. “Sometimes relevant and mostly not. Everything changes you see; when I manage to figure out Where, When, Who, How, What it all shifts when someone somewhere makes a choice.”
Hermione reached out and touched the younger witch’s arm. “And what did you see about me?”
“You had two paths, in one you would have married Ronald Weasley, become a mother of two and a Ministry employee. Nothing would really change and the world would continue in its downward spiral.”
“And in This?” Bruce’s voice was low and dangerous. He was a bit disturbed by the insinuations the fey witch was making. About his alter ego and Mia.
Pale blue eyes met dark cobalt without flinching. “In This she has the chance to change or destroy Everything. Depending on whom she chose to ally herself to. To be healed and whole she had to meet one who would guide, protect and support without demanding she enslave herself to him.” Luna looked away, seeing something only she could perceive. “Many men would have been acceptable but only a handful would help her realise her full potential. The Three Lands held the greatest risk but also the greatest reward. From here the whole World can Change; for good or ill.”
Hermione was troubled. “Luna, did you know there are tainted nodes under Gotham?”
Luna blinked. “No… I just knew Something was Wrong. And that it would take a very strong and determined witch to correct it. I was right, wasn’t I?”
“The Ministry Bound my powers before exiling me! I would have been helpless here!”
Luna was amused. “None of them understand the true extent of a Necroscope’s abilities. After a certain amount of time spirits cannot help but be drawn to you. In Britain they might have been afraid but in this New World they knew only you could help them, just as they could help you. How long did it take for you to figure out you could still channel using a blood focus?”
“You knew! And you didn’t tell me! Why?”
“You had to find out for yourself.” Luna’s voice was serene. “Unless the spirits are willing it would have been a futile endeavour that led to darkness. If you read the article on Necroscopes in The Quibbler Issue number 17 you would have known that yourself.”
Hermione huffed but before she marshal a proper argument Bruce intervened.
“Why don’t we hold off on any more discussion until we are in a more secure place?”
Alfred was charmed and bemused by the rambling discourse kept up by the new guest. She did not offer to help him, it would not be proper, but it did not stop her from keeping him company and talking.
Luna sighed in pure pleasure as Alfred prepared a second cup of tea.
“Thank you so much Mr. Pennyworth, I really needed that.”
“You are most welcome Miss Lovegood, but please call me Alfred. And no, I will not call you Luna.”
Luna blinked mildly. “Okay Alfred. What do you think of Your Knowing Witchiness? Or High Witch Beta? Or Second Witch of Gotham? Or—”
“Luna!” Hermione choked on her own tea.
Alfred was not so affected. “But I have no problems calling you Miss Luna.”
Hermione turned a reproachful look on the butler. “Alfred! If you’re calling her Miss Luna why do you insist on calling me Miss Granger?”
“Because I knew from the start you were not going to become a daughter of the house.” Alfred countered bluntly. “You were an employee with the potential to become more. What type of more I was not certain of until recently.”
Hermione was taken aback as she nodded slowly.
Luna smiled at the shell-shocked males before she turned to Hermione.
“Having any difficulty focusing your magic? There are ways to create other focus objects than wands you know.” She held out her hands and turned them face down to display the various bejewelled silver and platinum bands on each finger. All were very gaudy and eye catching. Just like the butter beer cap necklace the fingers of one hand played with.
Hermione grabbed the hand still held out and studied the rings more carefully. “I can see… runes.” Her eyes were demanding. “Blood bound focus. Illegal.”
“And unlike wands they are untraceable by the Ministries.” Luna added mildly. “And not illegal in Magical Scandinavia. I have citizenship through my grandmother. I’ve used similar focus devices long before I ever attended Hogwarts. My family renewed the focus every year during our summer visits to Norway. I can help you make similar devices for your own use. Less conspicuous than wands.” Her eyes turned vague. “You will need a focus to do subtle casting in public. Your core is much larger after being Bound for so long.” She reached out and touched Hermione’s forehead before drifting her fingers down over the elder woman’s nose, skimming over the mouth, chin, torso and towards her waist.
Hermione trembled, feeling her core react to the subtle touches of Luna’s magic.
“Luna, did you know?”
“Know what?”
“That a God would break my Bindings?”
Luna shook her head. “Gods act as they will. No one knows until After the Fact.”
“But you knew when He… When the Bindings broke.” Hermione persisted.
Luna nodded. “Yes. Ever since that day I waited for you to contact me. Now that I’m here I will never leave. Not for long.”
Hermione was disturbed. “Luna, you can’t be serious! Your home is in England!”
“My home is where Magic will be Reborn.” Luna’s voice was deep and faintly echoing. “The Three Lands are safe for now but you must plan for the Future.”
Bruce was enraged and a little afraid. He stood up and moved to pull Hermione away from her old friend and push her behind him.
“You manipulated and keep secrets from her!” His voice was deep and harsh.
“Just as you have Dark Knight. To protect people around me from being hurt. To stop those will ill intent from targeting me.” Luna held her hands out towards her sides at waist level. “Seeing into the future is not a precise magic. Free-will is one of the cornerstones of our existence. One being can make a difference, for good or ill.
“If those boys had not broken into Hermione’s private rooms she may have chosen to stay in London. Or she might have moved to Australia or Canada or the West Coast. Lucius Fox might have decided it was not safe to assign Special Projects to her. She might have left fifteen minutes before the Joker took hostages. Or she might have been in one of the other groups. Or he might have chosen not to kill in her presence. Or she could have used subtle magics to escape and leave her fellow hostages behind. You could have chosen not to persist in finding out more. Jason Blood might have decided she was too much of a threat and killed her despite your warning. Or you might have decided she was too much of a potential threat. Hermione might have refused to have anything to do with the Cleansing. Or—”
“We get it!” Bruce interrupted, feeling very chastised by the slim unrepentant witch. He did not move as Luna stood up and approached them.
When she stood before Hermione she took the brunettes hands and spoke.
“Hermione, every choice made by you, and people around you, has led to this; will lead to more. I didn’t say anything because nothing is set in stone but the moment you cleansed all four nodes in Gotham City several foundation stones were laid down. The future it could lead to is unlimited. It’s only limited by the scope of Your Vision. By Choices.” She closed her eyes and inhaled deeply. “And yet limits are very necessary. Even Gods are bound to obey certain rules to not destroy Existence.
“But by our very nature and mortality it is possible to circumvent the rules. The problem is they have been circumvented by the wrong sorts of magic-users for centuries, the so-called Light and Dark Lords. Order and Chaos. Light and Shadow. Bright and Dark. In the end it doesn’t matter; humanity is contrast and change, and we need a shifting balance to progress and move forward. Now is the time for the rules to be circumvented to benefit and serve the whole. For so long magic has been stagnant and bound by preconceptions and childish fears. It is time to let go and grow up.”
Hermione was trembling. “I can’t do this.” Her voice was thin and taunt.
Luna’s grip tightened. “You can. You must. By action or inaction you are creating a future. You will lead us all onto a path for the next phase of magical evolution.” Luna tilted her head to one side. “You won’t be alone Hermione. You will never be alone.”
The blonde fell gracefully to one knee and lifted the brunettes hands to press a kiss against the back of each one before speaking in harsh guttural phrases.
Hermione’s eyes widened as her quick mind translated the phrases.
“Luna! What are you doing?!”
Before Bruce could move to separate the two women a soft silvery-blue glow formed around their hands. It spread to encompass both women before bursting into a shower of sparks that rained down on them and faded away.
Luna’s expression was serene as she looked up, a faint smile curling her lips. “My Choice. My Liege Lady.”
Bruce pulled Hermione away unsure of what to do next. “What did she do?”
Hermione’s eyes were troubled as she looked up into his.
“She enslaved herself to me.”
“I vowed vassalage service for myself and my line for three generations.” Luna corrected mildly as she got off her knees and dusted her skirt down. “It is not like you can sell me Hermione, you just can’t send me away for my own safety.” She beamed broadly. “And with you being a Necroscope I can help you even if I do die.”
Hermione groaned and buried her face in her hands mumbling something indecipherable.
“Should have known she’d do something illogical like this.”
Luna turned to Dick and Tim who went very still and stared at the blonde witch with very wide eyes, uncertain of whether to flee or stand their ground and fight.
She smiled brightly and patted the older boy’s bicep. “Your name is Mr. Grayson correct?” Dick nodded mutely. “Why don’t the two of you give me a tour of Gotham. I think Hermione needs some space to scream and rant before she adjusts to the situation. If there are too many people around she feels she has to try and be polite.”
Tim blanched. He had been present for quite a few of Hermione’s rants, especially when she got into conflict with Bruce. Quite a few things ended up being levitated and tossed around. He tugged at his elder brother’s sleeve.
“Come on! We have to get out before Mia blows her top!” He hissed under his breath before raising his voice. “Bruce, Dick and I will give Miss Lovegood a tour of downtown and treat her out to lunch. Just text and let us know about dinner.”
He did not wait to get an agreement before he dragged the two towards the foyer and pulled jackets out of the closet and handed them out.
Dick absently helped Luna don her cloak while they waited for the private elevator.
Tim stared at the English witch. “Why did you do that? You should know how Mia feels about slavery.”
Luna’s expression was sober. “Hermione is very fragile. What happened in England made her feel completely abandoned. It took a major leap of faith for her to trust in Gotham, to open up to all of you. But she still feels she has no magical allies. She is wrong of course but there isn’t enough time for her to adjust. By vowing vassalage she essentially gets a magic user who Cannot and Will not betray her. I have no regrets. It was My Choice. Something that I planned on doing anyway, with or without the Vow.”
Tim began to get a better idea of how serious the situation was. Hermione had taught them the basics about magical vows and the degrees of punishment that could be inflicted upon an oath breaker.
“Is it that important? That she starts trusting magic-users?”
“Very. She is going to be the next Merlin or the Founders. She will literally shape how magic is used and perceived in the future. To do that she has to have a solid acceptance and understanding of herself. I hope Mr. Pennyworth and Mr. Wayne can help with that.” She smiled more impishly up at Dick. “While they work on Hermione, I will be getting to know the two of you much better. I don’t want to always be around Hermione all the time and interfere in her relationship with Mr. Wayne. The two of them need their alone time together.”
The boys stared at her shocked.
“You… know?” Dick stuttered.
Luna chuckled throatily. “Red strings Mr. Grayson. I see red strings everywhere. For some the strings are more like ribbons.”
“Is it ribbons for Mia and Bruce?” Tim asked daringly.
Pale silvery eyes focused on the teen. “For them it is more like rope. Rope turning to chains that bind and ensnare, protect and shield, deflect and defend.” Luna looked troubled. The trio stepped into the elevator. “He is becoming her Everything. It is dangerous. If something happens to him she will take her vengeance and fall apart.”
The boys did not like what that implied.
“Can we try to Slow it down?” Dick suggested.
Luna shook her head. “No. Once Hermione makes a commitment she does not look back. The best way is to splinter her focus.”
“How are we supposed to do That?” Tim knew making Hermione Granger falter was an exercise in futility. You might succeed but at a hugely impractical cost.
Luna smiled faintly. “Don’t worry about that. It’ll take care of itself. She’ll have a very good reason to slow down and splinter her focus.”
None of the boys wanted to respond to her knowing expression. They had a very good idea of exactly what she was Not saying.
Dr. Pamela Isley aka Poison Ivy looked up from the flat foolscap pad of paper she was jotting down notes. Emerald green eyes narrowed at the sight of a very unexpected guest. The Warden of New Arkham Penitentiary.
“Yes?”
“You have visitors. They want to talk to you.”
Poison Ivy looked away. “I have no interest in reporters or the D.A.s office.”
“They aren’t reporters or city employees.”
Warden Henry Dreeson made a pained face. It was clear he did not want to do this. It was enough to pique Poison Ivy’s curiosity.
“Who is it then?”
“Bruce Wayne’s girlfriend.”
Poison Ivy blinked. “Selina Kyle?”
Henry Dreeson was taken aback. “You don’t know?”
Ivy tilted her head to one side. “Know what?”
“For the past few months Bruce Wayne has been dating a young British lady named Hermione Granger. She wants to talk to you.”
Ivy was very confused. She did not remember harming anyone British. She had nearly killed Bruce Wayne’s butler when she had mistakenly believed his company was responsible for clear cutting old growth forests but that was years ago! She had stolen from Wayne Enterprises but that was nothing personal!
“She wants to talk to me?”
The Warden scowled. “Yes. Now will you co-operate and talk to her or should I go back and say you aren’t interested?”
Ivy considered her options. Yes or No. It wasn’t like she had anything interesting to do. And it was a change from the usual routine.
“Sure. Why not.”
She ignored Jim Gordon who was trying to change her mind.
“Miss Granger, you can’t be serious about this! Poison Ivy is a certified mental case.”
“Whose rehabilitation treatment has been completely useless for years.” Hermione pointed out bluntly. “I am simply going to give her an alternative. Something that hopefully interests her enough to reconsider her usual habits.”
Jim Gordon glanced at the one-way window. “Mr. Wayne, surely—”
“Do not even bother trying to get Bruce on your side Commissioner. I’ve had this argument with him and he has agreed to let me try things My Way.” Her pale brown eyes almost glowed. “I can look after myself. Do not interfere unless Doctor Isley turns violent no matter what you feel. If you feel you cannot restrain yourself please leave.”
Jim Gordon growled and stomped out of the modified visiting room. Poison Ivy wasn’t as volatile and violent as the other Rogues. Besides, if he stayed in the room and listened to the British woman making her offer to the eco-terrorist he wasn’t certain if he could hold his temper and his tongue.
He stomped past a uniformed officer and opened a heavy door and entered a small enclosed booth. The heavy door swung shut as Jim Gordon took a position giving him a good view of a bare cell with two chairs and a table and its sole brunette occupant through the one-way glass before glowering at Bruce Wayne, the other occupant of the booth.
“Why on earth did you agree to this insane scheme? There is no way you can trust Poison Ivy to keep her word!”
The billionaire glanced at the Commissioner with a faint knowing expression.
“Mia specializes in working miracles. Let her have her shot at reforming Isley.”
“But why Poison Ivy?”
Bruce frowned before answering. “Poison Ivy is more lucent than the other Rogues. And she does not go on wanton killing sprees or engage in criminal activities that do not help her with her end goal of protecting floral life.” He smiled wryly. “Besides, if we could remove a few Rogues from New Arkham permanently, wouldn’t it be a huge benefit? Fewer break-outs, crime sprees and schemes, man-hunts, property damage…”
Jim Gordon sighed and grumbled. “I don’t know how many strings you must have pulled to get the Mayor, City Council, DA and all the justice and federal agencies to sign this one off.”
Bruce Wayne was still. “A lot.” He admitted after a long silence. “But if I can help reform one Rogue, to end a part of the madness it will be worth it.”
“Does Miss Granger have any other Rogues on her test case list?”
“Not as far as I know.”
Ivy felt unnerved by the cool appraising study from the younger woman. Firmly she pushed the edgy feeling aside.
“You wanted to speak to me?”
The brunette cocked her head to one side. “Yes. But introductions first. In case you do not know my name is Hermione Granger but I prefer to be called Mia. What name would you prefer me to use? Isley or Ivy?”
The redhead was taken aback by the blunt question. “I am Poison Ivy.”
The brunette smiled. “Liar.” The tone was amused and non-judging. “We are all more than the sum of our parts. Poison Ivy is just one facet of you.” Her eyes became more intense. “A facet you made most dominant in recent years but there is more than just Poison Ivy. There is Pamela, Doctor Isley, Ivy, daughter, sister, friend, researcher, scientist, activist, criminal.” Her skin glowed faintly. “Do you wish you had other titles? Mother, aunt, godmother, businesswoman, reformer, crusader, miracle worker, hero?”
Dark green eyes widened. “What do you want?” Ivy asked in an unsteady voice.
Full lips curved into a broad smile. “Ivy, how much do you know about what is happening in Gotham?”
Ivy shrugged. “We get the papers. There are a lot of renewal projects going on; mainly financed by your boyfriend Bruce Wayne. Don’t see how that is going to help because every single renewal project in the past failed badly. Gotham is a cesspool.”
The British woman did not flinch but smiled broadly. “And tell me Ivy, given enough time and bacteria what eventually comes from cesspools?”
Ivy blinked. “Fertilizer.”
And was hypnotized by glowing gold eyes. “Exactly. Gotham has been a cesspool long enough. It is time to drain the sludge, till the land, and plant a new crop; one that will thrive because the land has lain fallow for so long.”
Ivy didn’t know if she wanted to run screaming or stay and listen. She moistened her dry lips before speaking. “What do you want from me?”
Hermione Granger picked up a manila envelope that had been lying on the unoccupied chair and placed it on the table before pushing it towards the red-haired Rogue.
“You became Poison Ivy to punish Harvey Dent who had been the primary supporter of building Arkham on Trigate Island and in the process destroying a tract of meadow containing unique flora specimens. One of the renewal projects Bruce and I are working on is Trigate Island. Our end goal is to create a private retreat, one to promote natural healing and spiritual harmony, not one of the touristy attractions where the features are designed to draw high traffic. A botanical garden containing several greenhouses are a must to grow certain rare specimens that we will be importing.” She smirked. “I can assure you these are specimens you’ve never seen before. The end goal is to create hybrids that will develop treatments and cures for various illnesses, and treatments for several environmental problems such as pollution and chemical spills.”
Ivy shook her head. “It is not cost-effective.” Her voice was bitter and pained. “To be truly effective the hybrid needs to be animate, reactive. Unethical. Monstrous.”
The younger woman came around and touched the eco-terrorists shoulder. “There are ways to do that Without splicing animal genes into plant matter.” She spoke softly in the red-head’s ear.
Green eyes met gold, wide and demanding. “How?”
“I can’t tell you my secrets unless you’re with me Ivy.”
“How do I know you’re on the level?”
Gold eyes were wide and unblinking, almost cat-like as the younger woman moved around the table and towards the door.
“I can give you a demonstration of my good faith.” She glanced at the one-way window. “In two days Batman will be here to supervise a day-trip to certain locations around Gotham City. There will be a police escort of course but he will be there so we can have a semi-private discussion of your options with Eos Trust. Read the reports in the manila envelope. If you are interested co-operate when he shows up. There will probably be some kind of tracker involved.” Then gold eyes focused on the seated red-head. “Tell me Ivy, were any of your ancestors from Britain? The Evans family?”
Ivy was taken aback by the change in topic. Confused enough to answer honestly.
“I don’t know which Evans family you are referring to but my grandmother was born in Manchester. Her sister Daisy married a Joseph Evans. Granny Rose married my grandfather and moved to America but she didn’t stay in touch after Daisy died and Joseph Evans second wife made a fuss about her writing letters to her nieces and nephews. Said Granny Rose was confusing them.”
“Ahh. That explains the hair and eyes. You look very much like the mother of an old school friend. Everyone said Lily Evans was brilliant, determined, passionate and stubborn. Very much like you. I often wonder just what she could have accomplished if she had not died saving her son.” Gold eyes were sad and distant. “She is dead and gone Ivy but you are very much alive. And you still have your whole life ahead of you.”
Ivy was silent for a while. “Is her son still alive?”
“As far as I know yes. But he is not the type of person who would be comfortable accepting you as you are.”
Ivy’s temper flared. “And you are?”
She rapped on the door indicating the meeting was at an end. While she waited for the door to be opened she smiled gently at the older woman.
“I believe so. I have been feared, envied and hated Ivy, of how I think and act, what I do and can do. Fear and hate are general human conditions; to eliminate them people must be taught to think and reason and accept.”
The door opened for the brunette. Just before she left she turned and spoke.
“Just think about it Ivy. A second chance, no judgments, new flora specimens, new research avenues. The chance to be part of something much larger. Think about it.”
And then she left.
The heavy metal door closed behind her, leaving Ivy alone with her thoughts.
“How could you be so irresponsible?!?” He fumed. “There is no way the Warden will agree to a day trip!”
Hermione Granger did not blink. “He has, provided at least one of the Bats agrees to provide escort service.”
“And how are you going to do that?” Gordon inquired in a sceptical tone. “Batman isn’t the sort to agree to something like this.”
The young woman’s mouth quivered faintly, as though she were repressing laughter.
“He already has.”
Gordon was taken aback. “What?” Then he became very suspicious. “How—?”
But Hermione cut him off before he could complete his question. “I first met him when The Joker took hostages in Wayne Tower. He was not very pleased with me endangering my life by trying to keep The Joker’s attention away from the other hostages. We had a few other encounters since, mainly in Old Gotham. I volunteer in several homework clubs in local community centers and libraries. It isn’t the safest of neighbourhoods and I’m not sure if he arranged his patrols to make sure those of us closing up get to an RT station safely.” She smirked. “He’s given up on making me stay out of Crime Alley.”
Jim Gordon stared horrified at the woman young enough to be his daughter. “He gave up?” His voice was very faint.
She batted long dark lashes even as her smirk broadened. “What can he do to me? I’m not a criminal and I have a legitimate reason to be in the area. It’s a free country.”
“You volunteer in Crime Alley.” Jim Gordon’s voice was thin and reedy.
The smirk faded and she spoke in more sober tones. “They need help more than any other place in Gotham, other than the Narrows.”
Gordon gaped helplessly and turned to the billionaire. “Talk to her.” He begged. “She can’t keep waltzing into the roughest parts of town now that everyone knows she’s your girlfriend! That’s just asking for a kidnapping attempt to happen.”
Bruce Wayne smiled faintly. “Mia has reluctantly agreed to modify her obligations in Old Gotham. No more late nights unless she is in a large group or with a bodyguard. Besides, with all the projects and deals going on she doesn’t have too much time for volunteering regularly so she’s compensating by funnelling supplies and money to expand current education programs.” Then his expression sobered. “I know it’s short notice but can you arrange a police escort? Two unmarked cars should be more than enough. Most of the stops will be in Old Gotham, and one in Old Arkham.”
Gordon rubbed his head. “I don’t know Mr. Wayne. I need to talk to Batman about the arrangements. I presume you don’t want the press to know about this.” The couple shook their heads in unison. “I thought so. Then this is going to need some planning.”
They glanced at each other before Bruce Wayne spoke.
“Could you use the signal to contact Batman tonight?”
Jim heaved a deep breath. “All right I will.”
“I’ll keep an eye on Poison Ivy from here.” He spoke in a low gruff voice. “Come back in an hour.”
The detectives did not demure. They were not interested walking into the rubble covered ground that used to be Arkham Asylum.
“We’ll be by the bridge.” The senior detective spoke.
They got into the car and reversed the vehicle around and drove back the way they came. After a few minutes they vanished over the crest of a shallow hill.
Ivy glanced hesitantly at the cape and cowl clad figure looming over her. She still could not believe Hermione Granger had enough pull to make the Batman come to heel.
“Where is Miss Granger?”
“She’s waiting for us.”
Hesitantly she obeyed. She could run but where could she run to? The tracking bracelets around her wrist and ankle were nearly indestructible.
Ivy frowned as they crossed the lands that used to be occupied by Arkham. There was something different…. She felt alive and hopeful. Even the gloomy cloud filled skies and the rubble covered scarred lands could not depress her.
They descended down a set of concrete steps into the lower levels of what used to be the storage and maintenance facilities. The area was illuminated by glowing orbs of light dangling from the ceiling.
Ivy wondered what the source of light was. Surely power would have been cut off once the demolitions began! Perhaps a battery of some sort. Batteries that would go into a landfill and spill chemicals to damage the land.
“The lights are powered by an alternative source of energy. Energized crystals. After a set number of hours they are recharged by specific ambient energy. Without any degradation up to ten years. Every ten years it can be refreshed without discarding old components.” Batman’s voice was low and harsh but not fear inducing.
Ivy was intrigued and sceptical. “I haven’t heard of anything like that.”
To her surprise Batman chuckled. “If you accept Miss Grangers offer you will be seeing and hearing a lot of new things.” Then he spoke more seriously. “Ivy, please consider her offer seriously. She truly wants to make things better. But she can only work on changing things that people ask her to.”
“And you mentioned me to her?” Ivy did not want to believe the vigilante.
“She knows a great deal of Gotham’s Rogues. She believes you are one of the few with the greatest potential to change and grow in alternative directions. The others are too ingrained in their self-destructive tendencies.”
They turned a corner and Ivy came to a stop.
Before her the concrete was torn into large chunks by some powerful force and tossed to the sides of the room. More cracks spread out from a granite pedestal in the middle of the large room that used to be underground. Now just the bare concrete pillars were thrust up like jagged teeth to the overcast cloudy skies.
Hermione Granger stood in the middle of the room with a slender shaft of wood in one hand. She waved and swirled it around in intricate patterns generating pulses of energy that acted as tractor beams, levitating the concrete rubble and moving it aside until the bare exhausted dry earth was exposed to air. She ignored them as she cleared a circle with a diameter of five meters around the squat granite pillar.
“What?… How?…” Ivy stuttered uncertain of what to say. Wondered if it would be wiser to turn tail and run.
“Miss Granger is a mage. A magic user.”
Ivy then realized Hermione Granger was barefoot and bleeding where her skin had been cut and scraped by the rubble. Her lower limbs were also scratched and covered with dirt and concrete dust. She was wearing a simple sleeveless wrap-around dress made of butter-cream jersey knit over a sky blue tee-shirt. Her curly brown hair was twisted into a knot and secured by several wooden picks.
Ivy would usually take offence at the sight of the wooden hair ornaments and the rod the other woman was waving around but something made Ivy hold her tongue. There was something about the wood. It was different. Almost living. Still living.
Then she found herself being propelled along by the firm gloved hand on her back. When she was just two feet from the bare naked earth the pressure on her back ceased. Hermione Granger turned to her and smiled; a beautiful serene welcoming expression that made Ivy want to break down and cry.
“Hello Ivy. I hope Batman didn’t make you too uncomfortable.” She nodded at the Caped Crusader. “Thank you for bringing her.” She placed her wooden rod on a knee-high chunk of concrete a few feet away and then turned away, her hands at her left side undoing the ties keeping her dress closed.
With unselfconscious grace she shrugged the garment off her shoulders, allowing it to fall on the concrete. Beneath the dress she wore grey bike shorts. Clearly she had planned for this. She picked up a shopping bag that had been resting on the other side of the concrete and took out an obsidian bladed knife. Ivy watched with macabre horror as the younger woman made short shallow cuts on her forearms and lower limbs.
“Stop her!” She hissed at Batman. “She’s hurting herself!”
“She knows what she is doing.” Batman countered. “Watch.”
And Ivy watched.
She watched the younger woman walk out in an expanding spiral from the granite pillar. And in her footsteps grass and vines sprang forth and flourished. Vines that quickly spread across the ground and twisted around the concrete pillars, squeezing them, fracturing them, reducing them to chunks of rubble in minutes. And then white buds bloomed and withered leaving small purple berry-like fruit that burst, ripe juices acting like acid, breaking down the concrete into smaller fragments. And then the vines withered and died leaving a few stubborn gnarled woody vines. When she touched one bloody finger to one of the thicker sections it broke from the main trunk and fell in her hands.
As she played with the twisty length of wood Hermione Granger spoke absently.
“My first wand was made of vinewood with a core of dragon heartstring. When I lost it in battle it was like losing an old friend. I never had the chance to get familiar with my replacement wand before I was exiled.” Eyes that were pools of molten gold turned to the older woman. “Remove your shoes and join me Ivy.” She held out a bloody hand.
Ivy could not resist. The cheap pumps were toed off. The moment her bare feet touched the earth Ivy gasped and stumbled. The vines began to grow anew, twisting around her limbs, pulling, urging her forward. She felt wetness on her cheeks. Her head tilted back to check if it was raining. It wasn’t and then Ivy realized she was crying. She could not stop the tears, resist the seductive urgency, the soothing warmth flowing up her limbs and filling her core. By the time she reached Hermione Granger she was openly sobbing. She hadn’t realized how long it had been since she had felt so Clean. She grabbed the younger woman’s wrist.
“How?”
“I’m a witch.”
Ivy shook her head. “NO! You made it clean again. So clean.” She whispered before falling on her knees and reaching out to touch the pillar. She hissed at the warm burning energy creeping up her fingers. “It was so ugly before. So tainted.” She stared at Hermione. “You removed the bad stuff. It doesn’t hurt.” Her voice was child-like and awed. Ivy settled on her hands and knees before curling up on the floor like an exhausted child. “It is so happy someone else is listening and doing something. No one listened to me and they were mad when I tried to fix things.”
Batman stiffened. Hermione ignored his tension as she knelt down to stroke the long red tresses dragging on the grassy dirt.
“Shhh baby. Does it still hurt? Like a stretching scab?”
Ivy rolled on her back and shifted her head to one side. “A little. But it is a lot better than what it was before.” She admitted. There was open heartbreak in green eyes. “Nothing I did worked.” She confessed. “I tried so hard but nothing worked. I failed to keep my promise.”
“You did nothing wrong. You simply did not have enough information and training.” Hermione’s voice was firm and reassuring.
Ivy curled on her side towards the younger woman. “I don’t want to leave. It is so ugly outside.” She whimpered.
“But don’t you want all of Gotham to feel like this?” Hermione spoke in soft coaxing tones. “To not hurt or feel tainted when you walk?”
Ivy rolled onto her hands and knees and stared up at the younger woman. “How?”
Hermione smiled faintly and stroked the redhead’s cheek. “If you agree to my terms you will find out. In fact you will be a major part of renewal and growth in Gotham.”
Ivy frowned. “Your boyfriend is financing urban renewal projects. What about the land and plant life?”
“Each project with have a major botanical core, greenhouses, community parks and vegetable gardens, Zen gardens, natural green space, carbon sinks. One of our biggest difficulties is finding architects willing to incorporate that vision into the planning. This,” She gestured around them. “Will be the heart of a natural-spiritual retreat complex. There will be a shrine here. If you choose to involve yourself it could be dedicated to the Lord and Lady, Green Lady and Forest Lord. If you wish you could make your home here. You will never have to leave as long as you live.”
Ivy glanced around longingly. “I won’t have to leave?”
“Not as long as you act within the law.” Hermione emphasized gently. “If you have problems you must come and talk to me or Bruce and we’ll see what we can do. As you can see for yourself the two of us can do a lot more than any lawyer or politician.” She stroked Ivy’s red hair. “Just think about it. Batman and I will be over there.” She gestured away. “We’ll give you some private space to consider your choices.”
Ivy nodded and curled up on the dirt, pressing her back against the pillar.
Hermione rose from her kneeling position and walked away to join the Dark Knight. He picked up her shopping bag and matched his stride to hers as they walked away from the Trigate node. Once they were in a privacy-warded section he guided her to sit down on a fallen column before taking out a couple of bottles and hand towels. Briskly he first sponged off the dirt with water moistened towels. Then he wiped the wounds with a green healing potion from a dark glass bottle.
His voice was low and gravely. “Do you think she’ll accept the offer?”
Hermione’s answer was quick and absolute. “Yes.”
“I should have suspected something. She never fit the usual pattern with the Rogues. No real self-gratification. All of her actions were designed to further her Cause. To make it stop hurting, to clean the land and undo the damage caused by man.” His voice was low and filled with self-loathing.
“How could you when you never knew the truth of Gotham?” Hermione asked gently. “The nodes protected themselves by encouraging delusions and denials of magic.”
He sat back on his heels. “So what is she? Probably something magical if she felt the tainted energy like you.”
“Yes. I believe she is an untrained newblood. One with distant non-human ancestors; perhaps dryad or nymph.” Hermione’s voice was regretful. “It is too late for her to learn wand magic but I believe her natural abilities were channelled into a field and form she was familiar with. Chemistry, pharmacology, botany, plants. It probably increased her natural resistance to poisons and toxins and helped her develop her hybrids and her biological tools. Pheromones, pollens, spores, potions.”
Batman sighed. “So what do you want to do?”
“Get her out of New Arkham.” Hermione’s response was swift and absolute. “Give her free reign designing the gardens. Get her an apartment with a roommate near the old school. A few months near a clean node with help stabilize her. Luna will be able to defend herself and handle Ivy in case she relapses. Eventually I’d like to see if we can find a mind healer from the enclaves to treat her. They might have better success than psychologists since they’ll be factoring in magical elements.”
Batman considered the plans. “You are making too much sense.” He admitted before conceding in a growling voice. “All right. The Eos Trust will hire Pamela Isley as a landscape and botanical design consultant. But she will keep wearing the tracking bracelets during her probationary period, at least two years.”
Hermione smiled demurely. “Of course dear.”
When they returned to the main chamber Ivy was ready to give her response.
“I’m in.”
She remembered her first meeting with Luna Lovegood. It was less than a month ago when Mia Granger introduced her to the female mage. Ivy had been prepared for a massive butch roommate who was really a security officer undercover. She had not been prepared for the reality of Luna Lovegood
“I thought I would be living on Trigate Island.”
Mia shook her head. “The construction there doesn’t allow for it and the Narrows are too close. We haven’t had time to do some ground work there.”
“But you’re okay with me living in Crime Alley?” Ivy was incredulous.
Mia stopped just in front of the main door and spoke. “Have you seen the recent crime statistics Ivy? Have you Looked and Walked around Old Gotham?”
Ivy was silent for a bit. “It feels cleaner.” She admitted. “Not as good as Trigate.”
“There is another node in Old Gotham and it has priority for renewal. You will be the first to move into the closest townhouse complex that is finished. Until then you will live here. I cleared and regenerated the lot next door as an urban green space. Don’t plant your more exotic hybrids there but otherwise feel free to explore and maintain. Remember picking leaves, flowers and small plants off is like cutting nails and trimming hair. It helps keep the whole ecosphere healthier.”
Ivy nodded wordlessly.
“Good. I’ve also arranged for a roommate. She is an old school friend with similar abilities to me. She can sense the taint but not to the extent you and I can. But she can also See what you and I can’t. She may look and sound ‘odd’ but she is also one of the most truthful person I’ve ever met. She says things as she sees them.” Mia’s expression was hard. “She is also one of the sweetest and well-meaning people I know. Even if you don’t believe what she says please do not be mean to her. At times she does sounds like a child, earnest gullible and absolutely open but she never tried to pretend otherwise. She never fit in at school and was badly bullied by the other girls.”
Ivy was silent as she considered the request. Because it was a request. It was entirely her choice how she would interact with her new roommate.
“All right Mia, I’ll try to be nice.”
“That’s all I’m asking. Just give her a chance Ivy.”
“What’s her name?”
“Luna Lovegood. The prats from school called her Looney Lovegood.”
Mia used a set of keys on a radish keychain to open the front door and led the way towards the townhouse kitchen where a teapot was floating across from one side of the kitchen to the next.
A light airy voice broke the silence from somewhere within.
“Hello Mia and friend, I hope you like rose-hip and orange peel. I haven’t had time to visit Salem and the apothecary.”
Mia smiled, a fond exasperated sigh as she entered the kitchen followed by Ivy. There was a small slender blonde preparing three cups of tea, levitating pitchers of lemon juice and spoons of sugar to prepare two cups.
She turned and smiled engagingly at Ivy. “How would you like your tea?”
Ivy was dazed enough to answer. “A splash of lemon. No sugar.”
The younger woman nodded and prepared a third cup before levitating two cups over with a small wave. Mia accepted the mug and took a long swallow before speaking. An elbow in Ivy’s side and a jerk of Mia’s chin made the red-head more aware of the curious and knowing expressions of her companions. She warily took the mug floating before her though she did not drink.
“Luna, you don’t have to go to Salem. Just give me the list and I’ll place an order and have it dropped off. And you should try China Town before visiting Salem. I managed to fill eighty percent of my potions ingredient cabinet there.”
Luna grinned and swallowed her own tea. The action and the warmth in Ivy’s own hands made her take a small hesitant sip. It was very good tea. Organic. She took a longer swallow savouring the unfamiliar blend.
“But I like going to the apothecaries Mia. You never know what you’ll find. I once found a Rainbow Bollybug mislabelled in a specimen jar. Daddy was very pleased to add it to our collection at home.”
Mia made an impatient sound. “Oh all right. But please take someone with you. I showed you how to use the phone Luna, the security company’s number is on the fridge and right next to the phone. Ask them to send an escort if you want to make any trips outside Gotham.”
“But Mia—”
“Don’t worry. They hire a lot of newbloods and latents. Muggleborns and squibs. And they all swear an oath not to reveal the details of any client they take on. If you need something from the enclaves they can arrange its purchase and….” Her voice trailed off and her eye widened as she realized something. She made a quick impatient sound. “You are distracting me Luna.”
The blonde giggled, a surprisingly throaty sound. “But never for long.”
Mia huffed. “You’ve made your point.” She gestured at the red-head beside her. “Ivy, this is Luna Lovegood, your new roommate. Luna, this is Pamela Isley, Poison Ivy.”
Ivy stared at the fragile fey-looking blonde with pale silvery hair flowing down her back. She was dressed in an old-fashioned buttery yellow mid-calf length dress edged with cream lace and sand-coloured flats but the oddest notes were the over-sized and colourful hand-made jewellery she wore; a necklace made of corks and tin caps from drink bottles and earrings shaped like radishes and lady bugs. Her eyes were very wide and a liquid silvery pale blue. But when she smiled Ivy could see what Mia had meant.
Luna Lovegood was the most open and guileless souls Ivy had ever met, on the level of a child. She almost reminded Ivy of Harley but instinctively Ivy knew Luna would never allow another to dictate her actions like how Harley did. Luna would not conform. And by that same token she would not judge Ivy on reputation. This was a chance.
Ivy took a deep breath and moved forward.
“Hello Miss Lovegood. It is nice meeting a friend of Mia, someone who can see and understand differences.”
Luna Lovegood cocked her head to one side before smiling broadly. “Hello Poison Ivy, I’m sure we’ll be good friends so please call me Luna.”
Ivy blinked and nodded. “Call me Ivy.”
Luna giggled. “Ivy.”
Ivy slipped those same glasses up the bridge of her nose and made a mental note to ask Mia to cast it on several more fashionable pairs. She carefully matched what she could See to what was on the blueprints. It did not quite… Match. The resonate harmony could be better.
“Luna, could you come and have a look?”
She ignored the knowing leering expressions as the flighty blonde made her way to the ‘command tent’. They knew Nothing about Reality or Magic. She did. That was why Mia Granger asked Ivy to be involved, gave Her veto powers over the project design.
Her scorn softened into a warm maternal expression as the younger blonde woman began studying the blueprints carefully, occasionally stopping to make marks on the paper.
Luna was Ivy’s friend. Just like Mia. Just like Mia’s boyfriend and his adopted sons and butler were also becoming friends. Ivy would protect and defend her friends to the best of her abilities.
Hermione groaned and came awake blinking blearily, trying to see just who was present in the dimly lit bedroom.
“Alfred?” She caught sight of Tim in sweatpants. His expression did not quite hide his fear. All dregs of sleep faded under the cold onslaught of reality. “What happened?”
Tim spoke quickly. “We were tracking smugglers working for Rupert Thorne. They had hostages, prostitutes and homeless men. Something went wrong. They killed five before we could stop them. Batman snapped, he nearly killed a few of the smugglers.”
Hermione focused on one qualifier. “Nearly killed. He didn’t kill, correct?” She rolled out of bed and hurried to the walk-in closet to change.
“Yeah. But he almost beat the cell leader to death.”
Hermione’s heart sank. “How is the man?” She quickly shed her nightshirt and pulled on a black body stocking.
“Stable. I used some of your healing potion before calling the police.”
Sweat pants and a loose tee-shirt. Feet into moccasins.
“Where is Batman right now?”
She hurried out of the bedroom followed by Tim and Alfred.
“He’s still out there.” Tim reported grimly. “He ordered us to return to the Cave after the police arrived. I tried to track him down but he’s disabled the trackers and comm.”
“This has happened before.” Alfred added grimly. “Last time he lost control was when he was tracking a serial child rapist who killed his victims. He didn’t kill the bastard but he brooded for days afterwards. And afterwards he became a degree colder. As though ignoring emotion would keep him from losing control.”
Hermione made a soft sound. “I’m not going to give him the chance to wallow in self-blame.” Her strides were quick and soundless. “What time is it?”
“One-thirty.”
“Alfred, you might want to contact Lucius and cancel or reschedule any meetings. I doubt Bruce is going to be up to them.” Her eyes caught theirs and they were reassured by the certainty in hers. “I will find him Tim, Alfred. His mental state might not be the best but I will find him.”
“You will bring him home?” Alfred asked trying to hide the tremor in his voice.
“Not immediately. He might need some time and space to vent. But I will bring him home eventually.” Hermione vowed.
“I’m coming with you.” Tim was determined to help.
“No.” Her response was uncompromising.
“But you may need help!”
“I can look after myself Tim. Besides, I don’t want to make him feel ganged up on.”
Tim mused on her reason before conceding.
“All right. Will you let us know if you’ve found him?”
“Yes.”
It had taken her nearly an hour to track him down. A remarkable feat considering Batman’s training and experience if one did not factor in the heavy advantage magic was supposed to give her. Twice she had found him and lost him in the rooftops and narrow alleys. He knew the city much better than her and he had developed a sixth and seventh senses for trackers and magic. Hermione was determined not to lose him this time.
Silently she pulled out three darts from one of the compartments of her utility belt and levitated them wandlessly, wordlessly. She waited ten full seconds before banishing them in quick succession towards her target, one after another, each on slightly different trajectories.
Batman managed to avoid two but the third made contact. He vanished with a faint pop when the Portus spell cast on the dart activated on contact. A wordless Evanesco took care of the two he managed to avoid.
Hermione tapped the comm link at her ear lobe and spoke softly.
“I’ve found him. He’s in a more or less secure area. Don’t expect us back any time soon.”
Then she too vanished soundlessly.
“You should not have done this.”
“Done what Batman? Worried about you? Tried to talk to you? Tracked you down?” A small curvy form emerged from the shadows, one hand lifting the face veil and folding it back so it simply obscured her hair.
“Leave!” He snarled.
“No.” Her voice was calm and unyielding.
“I nearly killed a man tonight.”
“So Tim tells me.” Her head tilted to one side. “I’ve killed many myself. Some people deserve to be killed.”
His expression hardened. “I. Don’t. Kill!”
She blinked mildly. “Batman doesn’t kill. But what about Bruce Wayne?”
He jerked, taken aback by her words.
She walked towards him. “What if someone made very serious threats right before Bruce Wayne’s eyes? He has already killed a dozen hostages before the civilian eyes and given every indication of killing several dozen more? What would make Bruce Wayne act? What if there was no other viable option other than killing?” She touched his shoulder. “Batman or a soldier might have the tools, skills, and experience to save them all but would Bruce Wayne?”
He growled. “Mia…”
Her eyes narrowed before she began speaking. “It is a perfectly valid question Batman. What will you do? What would you have done if I had decided to kill The Joker? What will you do if I go around putting Rogues and mob bosses into comas? You know the system cannot track me or punish me. I can get out of any prison within hours. If I kill only someone with magic has the slimmest chance of linking me to the crime scene. If I stay out of the enclaves they won’t bother tracking me.” Then her voice turned taunting, challenging. “And even if they do I evaded Tom Riddles Death Eaters when I was an untrained student, what chance does unimaginative government employees have against me? Knowing all you know what will you do Batman? Will you allow me to run wild causing havoc? Will you stand by and watch the body count rise with each escape?” Her voice was taunting, words sharp and brutal. “So what will you do Batman? Tell me Batman, What Will You Do? Or are you that much of a coward that you will allow innocents to die due to your inaction?”
She did not move though her eyes widened as his hand wrapped around her the front of her throat, fingers digging into the hollows below her cheekbones.
“Don’t.” He was enraged but in control. He released her and took two steps back.
Hermione rubbed her cheeks and smiled. “You may lose control Batman but you have never crossed the line you set for yourself.”
“I lost control. I hurt you.” He turned away.
She took two steps towards him and touched his arm, tracing the edges of the armouring through the thin material of the black cape.
“No matter what you believe in the end you are human, just like the rest of us. You cannot save everyone. And if you have to choose between saving innocents and saving one murderous bastard I would prefer you choose the innocents.”
He spun around on one booted foot and loomed over her. “I don’t know what is happening! It is getting more and easier to lose control. I’ve spent years mastering myself. I depend on having a cool clear head in a fight.” He made an inarticulate rough sound. “Ever since I met you I know I’ve been changing but what is happening… Part of me wants to push you away, to put things back the way they used to be. But part of me refuses to go back.”
Hermione smiled slowly and placed her hands on his shoulders, moving close.
“Congratulations Batman. You’ve taken the first step in moving into a new phase.”
He stared down at her confused. “What do you mean?”
“You are moving past your feelings of self-blame.” He stared at her confused. “Anger drove you, rage empowered you, and guilt tempered you from crossing the line. Now that the guilt is fading you simply have to develop new ways to control yourself like the rest of us.”
He stared at her hard. “What if I can’t control myself? What if I don’t want to?”
Hermione was amused. “If that were the case we would not be talking. You Chose to control yourself. You feel guilty over your actions, your lack of control.”
Batman inhaled sharply. “You’re right.”
Hermione eyed him warily. “In regards to what exactly?”
“I don’t feel responsible for everyone. Oh, I am still determined to do what I can to protect innocents and stop criminals but I’ve changed.”
“In what sense?”
“The line is no longer sharply defined in my eyes. It’s blurring.”
To his shock she just laughed. “Congratulations in joining the human race Batman. Nothing is Absolute. The only certainty is Change. Friends of today could be enemies of tomorrow, and past allies might be your opponents next week.”
He stared at her in silence before speaking. “Do you think you could ever accept me? Like you accept Bruce?”
She smiled gently. “When have I not?” She touched his cheek. “Batman is the one who always held himself back; in some foolish attempt to protect me from his activities I presume. I’ve told you time and time again… I love you, all of you.”
“Even if I push and demand more than what you are comfortable with?” He queried in sceptical tones. “And lose control?”
Hermione laughed softly. “If you lose control I am absolutely certain you will not harm me or innocents. Your rage will always be directed against valid targets. If you are angry… I can handle anger. All that Batman gives me I will reciprocate in kind.” She took a deep breath and met his eyes directly. “If he wishes to keep his distance I will respect that choice though I will always be an ally and friend.” She stood on tiptoe so scant centimetres separated their lips. “If he decides otherwise I can handle anything.”
He frowned before responding, his voice dropping into dangerous registers. “That is a very open challenge. You are daring me to break you.”
She ran a gloved fingertip over the edge of his cowl where it ended and exposed flesh.
“Bellatrix Lestrange failed to break me under an hour of Crucio.” She laughed softly and moved away. “I’ve seen the best and worst of mankind, both magical and mortal Batman. Light Dark, Good Evil, Right Wrong, there are no real limits but what we impose on ourselves. It is only when we cross those limits and turn back that we learn how strong we truly are.”
“What limits are you willing to cross?”
A slight crease marred her brow. “For myself not many. For someone else quite a few.”
“And for me?”
She was silent for a while. When she finally answered her voice was thoughtful. “For you, I believe I would cross them all.” She smiled faintly. “For someone I love laws, morality, society, reputation, convention, none of it matters; I would do anything.”
“Anything?” His tone challenged her.
“Anything.”
“So if I asked you to strip…?” He trailed off expectantly.
Her response was clear. Heavy gloves made a soft thump as they hit the ground followed by the body armour and boots. He watched her unzip and pull off the neoprene jacket-top leaving her in just the pants and body stocking.
“What if I asked you have sex with a stranger?”
“I’d ask what your end goal was. If it is information I’d get it for you using Imperio or Veritaserum. If it is to get an invite there are memory charms that can create a very good impression and Imperio. If it is to save someone I’d only consent if I cannot develop an alternative solution. If it is to humiliate me I will refuse point blank.”
She stepped out of the neoprene pants leaving her in just the black body stocking that was reinforced in strategic areas to support her curves.
“And if I want to have sex? Right here and now?”
She held her arms out wide open. “I am more than willing. If you don’t want to go to a safe house there are a few unused portable units around. I think one of them should have a bed, or at least a mattress.”
He moved close, looming in an attempt to intimidate her.
“And what if I want to tie you up? And hurt you?” His voice was harsh.
Hermione was silent for a while. “There are degrees of hurt and the line between pleasure and pain is not always clear cut.” Her expression was demure but her eyes heated and challenging. “I will be all that you could ever want, ever need. Anything.”
His kiss was harsh, demanding, almost suffocating in its intensity. She did not fight him. Her body softened and liquefied under his touch, his influence.
His gloved fingers hooked into the scoop neck of the body stocking and jerked down. She heard the rip and give way. She felt his cool gloved hands strip the shreds of material down leaving her torso bare.
He broke the kiss to speak. “You will not fight me.” It was a statement.
“I won’t.” She vowed.
The rubber enclosed hands were cool almost impersonal against her torso, playing with her nipples. Then one large gloved hand was between her legs, abrading sensitive wet flesh, pinching the swollen nub protruding out of the slit.
“And if I want you take you on a roof top?”
She swallowed hard. “I’ll let you.”
She cried out as gloved fingers were thrust into the slick channel, delicate tissue stretching to accommodate the unyielding intruders.
“In the Cave with the comm link to Robin open?”
She bit her lip but she could not entirely stifle her moan. “Yes.”
“On the balcony of the penthouse?”
“Yes.”
“In a coat room with Gotham society’s elite just down the hall?”
“Yesss!!” Her response was a scream as she came hard and fast as the heel of the gloved palm ground against her clit, setting off a series of explosions.
Her knees buckled and gave way as she sank against him. His gloved hands, coated with her release, kept her from falling to the grassy ground.
His voice was harsh. “I’m not quite done with you Mia.”
She chuckled softly. “You can do anything you want with me Batman.”
He was silent for a brief moment. “I plan to.”
The words sent a shiver down Hermione’s spine. Just what would he do to her? How far would he take her? Would she break, would she remain unbowed, or would she be reformed into Batman’s perfect match? Hermione sincerely hoped it would be the last. She loved Bruce and was determined to be everything he could ever want or need. And that definitely included fulfilling all of Batman’s desires as well.
“What have I done?” He whispered in harsh self-loathing tones.
“Nothing I did not want.” A husky familiar voice murmured seconds before a softly curved feminine form pressed against his side.
“I nearly killed those men. I almost raped you!”
Hermione arched her back and pressed her lips against his stubbly jaw. “Those men deserved killing. And almost doesn’t quite count regarding rape.” Warm honey gold eyes met dark blue. “It wasn’t rape Bruce. I was a very willing participant.” She shifted so her legs straddled one thigh, pressing her groin against one hip. The action caused her to wince as strained muscles were stressed and sore tissue abraded.
He was quick to react but found himself unable to put any distance between them. She locked her limbs around him, anticipating his move.
“No.” She grabbed his chin and forced his eyes to meet hers. “Don’t even think it was non-consensual Bruce! I chose to be there, I chose to stay, I chose to submit. And you know what? I liked it.” His eyes widened in shock.
“You are just saying that to make me feel better.”
Hermione made a derisive sound. “Don’t be an idiot Bruce. I might be rather sore right now but you, or rather Batman was definitely considerate enough to think of my pleasure last night.”
“Even a rapist can force a victim to orgasm. It is a completely involuntary response to specific stimulus.”
“True. But Batman gave me the option to back out every step of the way.” Her eyes were calm and unflinching. “The sex might have been rough and demanding but it was not completely undesired.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
She bit her unpainted full lower lip hard enough to draw blood before shifting over him, straddling his waist, leveraging her torso off his with her forearms against his pectorals. Her eyes when she opened them were heated and challenging.
“I’m not a masochist, not in the traditional sense, but there is something about a certain degree of force that is intriguing. There is something thrilling about going just a bit over the edge into the possibility of real pain and danger.”
Blue eyes widened then narrowed. “Games?” His voice was mildly inquiring.
She blinked slowly, thick lashes veiling warm eyes briefly. “Of sorts.” She admitted.
He touched the faint cleft in her chin before cupping her cheek, angling her face to his.
“What sorts of games?” His voice was low, abrasive. “And what do you want from me?”
Her heart jumped. It was Batman.
His hand moved to grip the nape of her neck and force her down towards his face. His eyes were heated and chilly. Desiring and threatening. The contrast and uncertainty made her pulse race, her blood race, and her skin flush. The words tumbled out of her mouth without restraint.
“I want to push and be pushed. I want to know how far I can go, what I am willing to do. Where I will bend and where I would break.”
“And what else do you want from me my Jewel?”
“I want to be everything for all of you. I want to be the first one you turn to when you feel any sort of need without any hesitation. In bed and outside of it.”
“You want to be my sheath. Sheath to my sword.” Batman murmured.
Hermione ignored the crude innuendo because it was essentially the truth. “Yes. I want to be your sheath in stressful and peaceful times.”
He frowned slightly. “It does not suit you.” Batman commented clinically. “A rather passive role.”
Her smile turned sensuous and her eyes laughing. “You forget Batman, sheaths can also be weapons when pressed. I am your sheath but when you need I will be your shield and your stave.”
Her elbows bent and her face lowered to his for a long and heated kiss. He leveraged his torso off the mattress until he was sitting with her straddling his lap without breaking the kiss. Broad strong hands wandered up and down the slender torso, sending shivers when callused fingertips brushed sensitive spots.
She lifted her mouth from his to speak, her breath warm and moist against his lips.
“I am Your sheath. Do not be afraid to use me as thus.”
Cold blue eyes burned holes into her psyche.
“You play a dangerous game Mia.”
“You need me. You won’t kill me. Besides pain is just evidence we still feel.”
She couldn’t completely stop the soft whimper that escaped her lips when his hand twisted roughly in her hair. To both of their shocks the action caused her nipples to harden against his chest, fresh moisture to drench her sheath and wet his abs where her wet slit was pressed against his torso.
She groaned when he thrust his hand between them, callused fingertips skimming over her sensitive moist flesh and finding her opening. Then two fingers were inside her, searching for a specific spot as the thumb played against her clit.
She cried out as she came hard against his hand, biting her lower lip bloody. Then he was kissing her hard, sucking on her bleeding lip.
“You’re mine.” His voice was hard and unmoving. “Say it.”
She did not have to think about her response.
“Yes. I’m yours.”
She moaned softly as he gripped the backs of her thighs and shifted her body up until she could feel his engorged cock sliding between her lower lips. And then he was inside her going deeper than she had felt. He was in so deep she couldn’t help but press a hand against the lower curve of her belly. She could feel him there, pressing against soft flesh from the inside. He gripped her knees and forced them apart causing her slide down, take more of him within her body. It was hurting now but she could see the pleasure in his face, sweat beading as he struggled to keep control.
“I can feel you so deep but it’s not enough. I want more. I want to feel you rail me hard and fast. I want to feel you cum and fill me with so much juice I can’t hold any more. I want to wake up sore and leaking your cum—.”
She gasped when he rose to his knees holding her by the hips, dragging her down until she was flush against his pelvis. It only took a little manipulation of her clit to make her come hard and fast soaking his cock and their groin with her fluids. She cried out in protest when he moved her off him and onto her belly on the mattress. She whimpered when he manipulated her onto her knees, arse up in the air, back bowed. Then he was inside her pounding hard enough to hit her cervix. One hand was on the back of her neck pinning her down, the other anchoring her hip into an angle that allowed the deepest penetration. Her nipples were hard and aching, rubbing against the rough mattress cover. It felt so good to let him dominate her, to make her feel. She wanted to feel him paint her insides but he didn’t.
He made her cum again and again until her toes curled and her belly and thigh muscles cramped. She was on the edge of passing out but she refused to, not until she felt his release. She reached down and formed a ring around his cock with her fingers. He hissed at the added stimulation and pressure as he railed her. He came hard painting her insides just as she wanted.
In the distant part of her mind Hermione wished he would fill her with more than his cum, he would fill her with his seed, his child. She could almost imagine carrying the growing weight of new life, his baby, their baby. She pushed the thought, the dream away. It was not the right time. They had not talked about children and there was too much going on to juggle pregnancy and a baby.
Black tinged the edges of her vision as she passed out.
“We have to get out of here.”
Hermione shifted lazily. “Not really. The architects and engineers are still finalizing their plans. Construction Phase Two will not start for another week at least.”
“We left most of our suits out there.” He growled.
Bruce felt her shoulders shake as she laughed silently.
“You are the one who ordered me to strip.” She pointed out. “And you weren’t willing to wait for a safe house, or even an enclosed room.”
He groaned softly before other things intruded in his thoughts.
“Lucius!”
“I told Alfred to clear your day and to let Lucius know you wouldn’t be in.”
“Alfred?”
“I let him know after I Portkeyed you.”
“Tim?”
“Worried about you but I told him I would take care of everything. Alfred would have let him know you’re safe.”
“How are you feeling?”
“Sore, sticky, drained and bloody wonderful. I don’t think I could survive an experience like last night on a daily basis.”
He choked then coughed before regaining some control. “Wha—?”
Honey gold eyes were warm and mirthful. “But it would definitely be something to look forward to on special occasions and anniversaries.”
Bruce blinked back tears and touched the blue-black finger-shaped markings on her cheeks, jaw and throat. And was shocked when she leaned up into his touch.
“Don’t blame yourself for something that was completely consensual Bruce.” She touched his face. “Batman did not hurt me. He taught me quite a bit about myself. Some of it surprised me, some of it I suspected.” She smiled brilliantly. “Don’t ever think I’m tolerating Batman for your sake because I’m not; I love Batman just as much as I love and care for the businessman, the playboy, the father, the son, the philanthropist, the sportsman, the scientist, the intellectual, the philosopher. They are all part of you and I love them all.”
This time he could not stop the tears. He pressed his lips against the hollow of her collarbones, hiding his face in the space below her chin. And then he cried.
Her voice was soft and steady as she whispered in his ear, reaffirming her pledge. “I love you Bruce, all of you.”
Hermione did not look away from the mirror but continued to retouch her make-up. Mentally she made a note to purchase magical cosmetics that would last an entire evening without fading. She was vaguely aware of the ladies emptying rapidly though a few more daring souls hung around the edges of the facilities, near the door for a quick escape. When she was satisfied she began putting away the containers before leisurely turning to the speaker. A green-eyed blonde. Selina Kyle.
“Are you speaking to me Miss Kyle?”
Selina Kyle frowned at the cool composed face reflected in the mirror. A serene oval face with smooth rounded lines and warm tones. Light brown curly hair streaked with honey chocolate and caramel braided into an old-fashioned coronet. A full mouth painted berry brown, honey-gold eyes emphasized with grey smoke. Pale creamy skin tanned light honey and exposed by the sleeveless black silk and taffeta dress with a thigh-high front split in the full skirt that exposed her legs in smoke tights and black T-strap stiletto heels. Her arms were bare and well-toned with two gold bands shaped like snakes wrapped around each bicep. An elegant watch around her left wrist and a gold chain wrapped around her right with small charms at various intervals. Her neck was bare and unadorned of any jewellery but a long thin gold chain that disappeared into her bodice. Waterfall style earrings of gold and jet sparkled from each ear lobe.
She was not superstar beautiful, or model slim, or athletically toned with her short curvy figure and average features and earth-tone colouring. But there was something about her. Mentally Selina shook herself. Why was this nobody unnerving her?
“I don’t see anything remarkable about you Miss Granger. Nothing that would draw the attention of a man like Bruce Wayne.”
Gold eyes did not waver. After several tense seconds the younger woman blinked, ending the staring contest though Selina did not feel like she had won it.
“His reasons are his own Miss Kyle. I’m certain you know Bruce requires additional… qualities in potential partners to keep his attention.”
Selina stiffened at that jab. What did she know? Does she know of Batman? Did he tell her of Catwoman?
“I am very fond of cats myself Miss Kyle but I sincerely believe that humanity is more important. If we don’t protect our children and teach them good values preservation projects will not last more than two generations.” One corner lifted up in a faint smile. “Tell me Miss Kyle, how many cats could be saved if you Taught others your ways? And they went out and put your lessons into practice?”
Selina blinked and considered the question. “Many more than what I could save by myself.” She admitted. Then she frowned. “Do you know—?”
“Of his hobbies? Oh yes. I helped him on a few projects. I still do. The work is quite intriguing.” Gold eyes shone. “I like puzzles. Finding bits and pieces of obscure facts and reassembling fragments into a coherent whole. The adrenaline rush when the pieces start coming together, just before the last one is put into place… it is quite addictive.”
Selina glanced around the ladies and made a judgment call. “Would you mind joining me on the terrace? I think it would be more private for our talk.”
Hermione Granger arched a slim brow. “Of course. Please lead the way Miss Kyle.”
Selina Kyle. He spun around and looked for his adoptive father and crime-fighting mentor. He had to tell Bruce about this unexpected development. Dick knew nothing good could come from a current girlfriend meeting an ex. Especially one like Selina.
“What’s so funny?”
The younger woman’s smile broadened. “You are. The way you are arguing with yourself, trying to determine the best way to make me break-up with Bruce. I’m afraid that is a futile endeavour Miss Kyle. The only ones who can break us up are either Bruce or myself.”
Selina cocked one hip, the tight purple silk knit emphasized her slim hips and full bust.
“Do you honestly think he’d go for someone as plain as you? He’s only using you!”
A sardonic smile twisted lush lips. “Oh yes. He is completely and totally not attracted to me. In fact he has to force himself to spend whole nights in my bed having sex with me when he is not falling asleep in my arms and waking me up for another round.”
Selina froze. “He sleeps with you?”
“Sleep as in have sex or share a bed? He does both with me. I may go to bed by myself but I never wake up alone.”
That was enough to deflate Selina’s confidence. “He never spent the whole night with me.” She whispered.
The challenging defiant expression softened. “Trust is a big issue. It is hard to rest outside of one’s home ground.”
Selina blinked. “I wouldn’t know. I’ve lived in rentals and hotel rooms all my life.”
“And you aren’t interested in putting down roots.” Hermione pointed out bluntly. “Bruce is rooted in Gotham. This is his city, his land. He may travel all over the world but in the end he’ll always come home. To Gotham.”
Selina stepped back as if slapped in the face. “I never thought…” She trailed off.
“You never thought. That is the problem. You may be wonderful at planning heists and seductions but when it comes to understanding the heart and soul…” Hermione shook her head with a pity-filled expression. “You’re worse than a teenager. Miss Kyle, I know I’m not gorgeous. And I also know Bruce is not shallow as his public reputation makes him to be. Why should I be jealous of his past lovers when he has chosen to be with me? And I know he is using me, just as I am using him. To make ourselves happy. To find peace and acceptance and warmth with someone who is not afraid of the darkness.”
Selina froze. “You know then.”
“Yes.”
“And you are not afraid of him?”
A gentler smile curved lush lips. “And just why should I be afraid Miss Kyle? His Darker side is not very different from his Lighter side, just more ruthless in his choices and more primal in his views. It took some effort to make him understand I am not fine crystal but solid stoneware and a lot more sturdy than I look.”
Selina shook her head. “You’re too soft.”
The air chilled. “There are different kinds of strength Miss Kyle.” Hermione’s voice deepened. “You’re too quick to dismiss what you cannot observe and understand. No wonder you and Bruce never worked out. Bruce is the sort of man who thoroughly analyzes and catalogues his surroundings and options. He would never dismiss anything out of hand.”
Selina shivered. She could feel goose bumps rise on her arms. She backed away, trying to create some distance. “What are you doing to me?”
Then the chill faded just as quickly as it had fallen. “Nothing.”
Selina warily eyed the young woman who moved towards an over-sized concrete planter and bent to cup a thin branch bearing jasmine blooms deftly and inhale the scent.
“You are not afraid of what he does each night?”
“Of course I am afraid. Am I afraid enough to leave him? Never.”
Selina tilted her head to one side. “Why?”
“Why should I leave him because of what he chooses to do? The danger and burden he willingly takes on to protect and save others? Thousands of women do it every day; they wait while their husbands, brothers, fathers and sons walk into danger as police officers, firefighters, soldiers.”
“You’re not afraid he’ll die one night? Saving some stranger and leaving you alone?” Selina’s voice was incredulous.
A strange serenity filled the younger woman’s eyes. “I believe in him Miss Kyle. I trust in his skill and judgment and pray one day his activities are no longer needed, or that others will take up the mantle and share the burden. I will take what I can get, a year or five or five decades. It will be worth it, knowing I helped make his life a little easier, to give him some reprieve from reality.” She chuckled softly before raising her voice. “After all illusion can be made into reality if one is determined enough.” She turned to face a particular shadowed section of the terrace. “Isn’t that right Bruce?”
Selina turned and watched as her old lover emerged from the shadows. She had not even felt a twinge indicating an intruder. How had Hermione Granger spotted Bruce?
She watched as the younger woman approached the tall broad-shouldered male clad in a black tuxedo and red cummerbund. Without hesitation she stood on tiptoe one hand on his bicep for balance as she brushed her cheek against his. She ducked away from an intimate kiss cupping his cheek, brushing her thumb over his mouth.
“No.” Her voice was firm and unyielding. “If you kiss me now everyone will know.”
Bruce sighed. “Why do you have to wear such strong colours?” He pouted.
“Anything else will just blend in and for formal events gloss does not cut it.” She chided softly. “I’ve made a special cosmetics order that should be arriving in a few days. Guaranteed to be smudge proof.” She giggled. “I would be more than happy to test that claim with you.”
He smiled and rubbed his nose against hers, resting his forehead on hers. “When can we leave this party Mia?”
Hermione glanced at her watch and considered the question. “Twenty minutes. One quick circuit and a few personal farewells. Will Dick be leaving with us?”
Bruce shook his head. “He’s meeting Barbara at a night club and will be staying in town.” He glanced up and over towards the frozen blonde. “Hello Selina.”
Selina swallowed heavily. “Bruce.” How much had he overheard?
“It was my understanding you did not want to commit yourself to a long-term relationship Selina. I see no reason why you should be so put out when each time you chose to walk away from what we shared.”
Too much. Cobalt blue eyes were hard chips of polished stone.
“Do not presume to speak for me on things you know nothing about.” Then they warmed a fraction as he looked down at the coronet of multi-hued brown hair. “It is over Selina. Whatever we’ve had is dead and cold. Even if my relationship with Mia ends I won’t be interested in rekindling old flames. The time for us passed long ago.”
Selina Kyle watched as the couple walked back into the bright and lively reception room. She felt cold and alone. She did not feel like re-joining the party. Even thinking about the heists she had intended on carrying out failed to energize her. Perhaps a few months in a warmer climate would help.
“You didn’t have to be so hard on her.”
He clearly disagreed.
“I had to. If I didn’t make my point clear she would keep trying to separate us. And I’m no longer interested in an exotic but not very healthy relationship. I like what we have Mia. I won’t let anyone damage it.”
