Written for the Quidditch League Fanfiction Competition by Beater 1 of the Appleby Arrows

Prompts:

Write a cross-over with a comic

(quote) 'One day, you will be old enough to start reading fairytales again.' - C.S Lewis, Chronicles of Narnia

(dialogue) "Who the bloody hell is that?"

(setting) King's Cross Station

Disclaimer: This is me, disclaiming any ownership for anything recognizable.

The sound of a train was soothing after awhile. Any train of King's Cross, anyway, because it always reminded Hermione of her old home: Hogwarts.

Long were the days where she, Harry, and Ron would go about their lives at Hogwarts, trouble always looming around the corner and following them. She liked to reflect on the better parts, though, like their boat ride over the Great Lake in first year, the magnificent library, when she punched Malfoy and broke his nose, her date at the Yule Ball with Viktor Krum (before Ron ruined it, of course), starting the DA and... where that's where it really went downhill; when Voldemort returned.

But she didn't have to think about him, because that was all over. The Battle of Hogwarts had been a little over seven years ago, and she was now a well respected citizen in both the Muggle and Wizarding world. After the war, she decided to go back to Hogwarts for her final year, graduating with all N.E. Hermione then tackled on University, getting her major in psychology whilst moving her way up in the Ministry of Magic to become Head of the Department of Magical Law.

She had accomplished much in those short seven years, but even then everyone deserves a vacation.

So she was taking the two weeks off to travel Europe - starting with London and revisiting key historic parts, then going to France, and then Germany. Having just come from a conference with the Bulgarian Ministry, she decided to take the Muggle way to London, by train.

Who knew that she was about to meet the most extraordinary person on this certain train ride.

This said person had taken it upon themselves to knock before sliding open the compartment door. "Sorry," he started in his very noticeable American accent, "but do you mind -" he didn't get to finish.

"Plenty of room in here, go right ahead," Hermione gestured to the booth across from her.

"Thanks," he smiled, showing off incredibly straight and white pearly teeth - teeth her parents would have been amazed by. "I'm Clark Kent," he said, extending his hand out to her.

"Hermione Granger," she replied, shaking his hand and furrowing her brows, a gesture she did when she wanted to know more about something (or in this case, someone). There was something weird about touching him that struck out to her as abnormal. It was almost if she could tell he wasn't an average human being, possibly a Wizard, they had a knack of feeling magic within each other. Yet, the feeling she got was so... foreign. It was almost like he wasn't even human at all. "Where are you from Clark?"

"The States."

She rolled her eyes. "Obviously. I meant, what state are you from?"

"Oh." He chuckled. "Kansas."

That surprised Hermione. He definitely didn't look like he was from Kansas, what with his nice, fancy suit and flawless features and tanned skin. Hermione would have pegged him for a Californian man. Not knowing what to say, she just nodded her head at that and pulled a book from inside her purse, clearly showing that she wanted the conversation to be over.

No such luck.

"'Alice In Wonderland? Isn't that a children's fairytale?" Clark piqued up from his side of the cabin. Hermione looked up, narrowing her eyes at him.

"And?" She responded, raising an eyebrow. "Adults can't enjoin a fairytale classic every once and awhile?"

"Well, no it's just... strange."

"Hm, trust me, you have no idea about the strange in this world," she said and then quoted, "One day, you will be old enough to start reading fairy tales again."

"C.S. Lewis," Clark stated.

"Ah, so Kansas does have a brain."

He looked at her funny, and for a moment she thought he was offended by what she had said. Then, he started laughing. "What?" she asked. "What's so funny?"

"You remind me of a...friend... I have back home. She calls me Smallville."

"I'm guessing that's your city then?"

"More like a town. A very, very small town. Only thing it's known for is it's literal and physical meteor showers."

Hermione's eyes widened in recognition, "I know exactly what you're talking about! I remember reading about the second one in the World News."

Clark nodded his head, his eyes strangely darting from left to right, it looked as if he were starting to get nervous about something. She didn't mention it, though.

"So what brings you to London?" Hermione changed the subject.

Clark cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses. "I'm here to write about Bruce Wayne and the new line of businesses he's opening here in the city."

"You're a reporter?" Hermione bit out, she'd never had much luck with reporters in the past (Rita Skeeter being the worst of them all).

"Yes, but not the kind you're thinking. I take pride in writing things the way they should be written: with truth."

"If only some other nasty little pests could be like that," Hermione muttered to herself. She opened her mouth to say something more about her dislike for reporters, when she suddenly felt her body surge forward and the train made a huge screeching noise.

"What the bloody hell is that? It felt like we hit something!" she exclaimed.

"Yeah," Clark murmured, his eyes very focused on the wall behind her, as if he were trying to see what was outside the conductor's point of view. "More like we're going to hit nothing, I think the conductor was trying to make the brakes stop before we hit anything, must have snapped them off though."

"Hit what?"

"That's the thing," he turned his focus on her, "there's no more track in front of us. We're going to go off the mountain side soon if this isn't figured out." He raced towards the compartment door, sliding it back with an incredible amount of ease.

"Where are you going?" A flabbergasted Hermione asked, after all, how could he possibly know all that?

"To speak with the conductor." He ran off.

It had only taken thirty seconds after that for the train to come to a complete stop. The rails that led to a bridge had been detached somehow, and everyone on the train was almost led to their certain doom.

It was strange, though, that they were all still alive. Especially since the conductor himself wasn't sure on how the train stopped, as he said so over the announcements.

There was a rumor though, of a fast flying man with super strength, which Hermione would have just brushed aside as an ignorant thought when it hit her that Clark hadn't come back to their cabin, and wouldn't return at all for the rest of the ride.

Not even to get off the train, which she knew because she was the first one off at the station in London, and she never saw him come off.

Interesting.

Short. Sweet. Simple. Hope you enjoyed :)