Thor's coronation was in a few months.

Loki decided to take that time to get away from his preening brother. He needed it. Make the most of his freedom before the blond haired, arrogant fool took the throne of Asgard. His brother was usually insufferable, always regaling grand tales of battles and gloating about how he alone was worthy of Mjolnir.

Now, with his impending coronation, he ego was inflating to impossible levels. Loki couldn't go a day without hearing about the changes Thor would make 'when he was king.' It drove him mad, made him grind his teeth in utter fury.

So, a few month before Thor's coronation and impending doom, Loki marched down the Rainbow Bridge, towards the Bifrost. It glinted gold in the sun, reflecting years of engineering and magic, all harnessed in one giant, golden sphere. He wore simple clothes, deciding to forgo his usual regal attire for something more regular. He didn't exactly know where he was going. It wouldn't do to turn up on a realm where he was recognised. Besides, he had his battle armour on standby at all times, thanks to his ever faithful magic.

For once, he found himself craving anonymity. It wasn't something he could explain, not in a thousand years. The thought of being able to go somewhere and act like a normal person with normal feelings and a normal life normally repulsed him. Who would want that? But now, the desire for a few months where he could be his own person, without needing to worry about his reputation being tarnished.

He reached the door of the Bifrost. Heimdall, the golden watcher with all-seeing amber eyes, surveyed him carefully.

"Are you sure what you set out to do is what you want?" His voice rumbled. Loki sniffed. Of course he was sure what he wanted to do. He was a Prince of Asgard, being sure was in his blood.

"I am sure, Heimdall. Now, send me somewhere that I haven't been before. Contrary to my character, I find myself craving...adventure." He sneered the word, like it was the most disgusting thing in the world. "I'm taking these few months to get away from my idiot brother. Now, surprise me."

Heimdall sighed. "As you wish, Prince Loki." Loki smirked. Heimdall raised his mighty sword and plunged it into the centre of the Bifrost. Lightning began whirling around them, though not hitting either of the Asgardians. The golden globe began spinning pointing in the direction of wherever he was about to go. "I wish you all the best on your journey, my prince."

"I don't need your wishes." With a smirk, he was pulled out of the Bifrost and into the rainbow coloured tunnel. Lights rushed past him. He couldn't help wonder what he was doing, or why. It was a question he constantly found himself asking as he planned his excursion, though he never found the answer.

With his hair whipping around his face, Loki felt the end of his time within the Bifrost coming to an end. Wherever he was going to end up, it was bound to be something new. Well, as new as things could get when you were over a thousand years old and had seen most that the nine realms had to offer.

The lights dissipated and Loki squinted slightly, trying to discern where Heimdall had sent him. His eyes widened when he realised exactly where he was.

What in Odin's name was he doing on Midgard?

Hermione sighed into her thick, leather bound book. There was nothing that annoyed her more than not being able to find the information she needed. She should be able to find it in an instant. Libraries were her territory; the books her prey. It reminded her of the painful period in her first year at Hogwarts when they were searching for Nicholas Flamel. One day, the answer to her question would hit her over the head, a solid 'thwap' that would leave her wondering how she could be so think.

How she detested moments like this.

Huffing, she gently closed the book. No matter how angry she was, she would never disrespect a book. Unlike some people she knew. Chuckling, she made to grab her wand out to return the book to it's shelf. It was with a start that she remembered she was in a muggle library. No magic. Not even a little bit.

Gathering it up in her arms, Hermione walked over to a shelf to grab the next book in her series of victims. She slid it back on the shelf. After five minutes of searching, Hermione could have screamed. None of these books had what she wanted. Granted, what she was looking for wasn't exactly common in muggle libraries. Right now, she was deeply embroiled in the mythology section. There was a certain paper that needed her attention and she thought that the views of muggles on mythology could provide an interesting comparison to wizarding views. Of course, a lot of her co-workers thought she was barking mad venturing into the muggle world.

She shook the thought off. That was something she could deal with later. Right now, the perfect book was just out of her reach and she wouldn't leave the library, even if she needed to stay for a week to find her answer. It was in here somewhere, it had to be. No matter how many books she had to closely examine. The building she was standing in was one of the largest in London. Surely, the passages she needed were hidden within those elusive pages.

"Do you need any help?" A soft voice cut through her intense searching. Hermione stood and observed the tall, strangely dressed man standing next to her. His black hair was secured back in a ponytail, and his posture was tall and proud, like he was used to lording over people. He certainly had the arrogant tilt to his chin down pat, eerily similar to a certain Malfoy.

"Well, if you can help me find that elusive book on Norse Mythology, that would be greatly appreciated," she laughed. She returned to the shelves, not seeing the amusement sparkling in his eyes.

"I'm sure I could help you with that. I class myself as an expert on the subject." He crouched down and picked out a book, handing it to Hermione. "This would be a good place to start." She graciously took the book, while sliding a few others out as well. Her pile grew quickly, until there was too much to carry. Hermione groaned. She thought she was past this problem.

"Thanks for that."

"It is no problem. Would you like me to help you with these books?" Hermione raised an eyebrow at his offer. Something was off about him, something that she couldn't quite place. It didn't seem like anything dangerous, though, so she shrugged.

"Sure. It's nice to meet a gentleman like you every now and then. God knows my friends could learn a lesson or two from you."

"I'm sure they could."

"Careful, your ego might overinflate if you keep talking like that."

"Who says it isn't already?" Hermione chuckled. There was a sort of charm around this odd, arrogant man. Certainly more than many of the men she knew.

She walked back to the her table, which was covered in lined paper, both still in the refill pad and screwed up. As much as she loved the wizarding world, writing on parchment was just a pain. As soon as she left the doors of Hogwarts, she purchased several pads of refill paper and many pens, much to the puzzlement of the Weasleys.

Heaving, she heavily placed the books on the wooden table with a loud 'thump.' A second, lighter noise followed as the man placed his larger pile down on the table. It was like he was carrying nothing, like the books were lighter than a feather to him. It was strange, as he was thin as a rake.

"Thanks for that," Hermione said. He nodded and walked off, presumably to find a book of his own. She sat down and opened the book he recommended. A wall of minute text met her eyes. Slowly, a smile crept over her lips. This was the type of book Hermione had been looking for. Jam packed full of information and relevant information at that. Throw in the fact that it was written by a reputable author, and she was in book heaven. Inside her head, she cheered the mysterious stranger.

Hermione found herself drawn deeper and deeper into the tome. The legends were written about so well that soon the stories were dancing around her head in full colour. It was like she was there, watching it happen. She read through the book, practically devouring it.

Never aware that the man was watching her from across the library.

Loki didn't know why he offered the bushy haired woman help. Maybe it was the way her warm brown eyes seemed to burn lasers into the wall of books. Something about her amused him. The fact that she was researching Norse mythology also helped a great deal. He was certainly an 'expert' on the subject, considering he was part of the mythology. It brought a slight smirk to his face.

So far, his time in the Midgardian city of London wasn't going to bad. Though he visited here before, many years ago, this time he wasn't trying to announce his presence and impress anyone. He was just here to enjoy the peace, the reprieve from Thor and his magical battle hammer. He snickered at calling Mjolnir a 'magical battle hammer.' Even he couldn't deny that Mjolnir was an impressive weapon.

Loki flicked his eyes up and glanced that the woman. She was eating the book he recommended, eyes darting left and right, reading the pages faster than humanly possible. It intrigued him. Maybe he could learn more about this woman who was eating up Norse mythology. It would certainly give him something to do. Maybe he would even make a friend of his own, outside of the Warriors Three. Even they mocked him, constantly calling his magic a cowards way out. It infuriated him.

That was another thing. He could sense something magical around her. It was unlike his own, unique brand of magic, but it was magic nonetheless.

Mind made up, Loki grabbed the first book he found, which happened to be on muggle sciences that he didn't understand in the slightest, and walked purposefully over to her desk. He wanted to get to know this person better. Or maybe he just wanted a mystery to solve. Either way, he wasn't going to take no for an answer.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He was also being unusually polite. Normally, he would just sit down wherever he pleased. On Midgard, though, he quickly found that wasn't the case, if his ban from visiting a certain cafe was accurate.

She snapped up, having received a massive fright. When she saw who it was, she smiled slightly.

"Only if you stay quiet and let me concentrate."

"Done."

And so they sat there in silence, Loki trying desperately to decipher the impossible book he was leafing through. His mind was elsewhere, though. More specifically, trying to figure out what kind of magic the woman across the table from his wielded. He shook his head. There was something off about just calling her 'the woman.' He would introduce himself in the hope that she would return the favour.

"I'm Loki, by the way." She glanced up, brow crinkling. She doubted him. "It's true. Loki is my name."

"Some parents you must have." Loki chuckled at her reaction to his name. It certainly wasn't what he had expected. Then again, for all she knew, he was just a normal man with a very, very strange name.

"Yeah, you could say that."

'I mean, who would name their kid Loki? Poor you. Then again, I know several people with odd names. Did you know I know a Draco? Not that I'm good friends with him. Never." She shuddered at the thought. "Why did they name you that?"

"Obsession with Norse mythology," was the instant answer. Nothing better came to mind. She seemed to take the answer. "You know, when someone introduces themselves, it's polite to reciprocate." The woman sighed, grabbing a piece of paper and marking her page in the book.

"I'm Hermione."

"Strange name." The newly identified Hermione scowled at him. The name suited her, with her bushy hair and bookishness.

"Says the man named Loki, of all things."

"Fair point, though you glaring at me isn't going to change my opinion. I never said I didn't like it. In fact, I think it is quite nice, actually." Hermione seemed to wrestle with her thoughts, before opening the book again and turning her nose to the pages.

"Now, if you wouldn't mind, I would like to get back to my book."

"Certainly."

And they sat there in quiet companionship until the library closed. Not that Loki would admit to calling it companionship.

Never.

Within the Bifrost, Heimdall smiled. Maybe this Hermione Granger was just what Loki needed to help him become a slightly better person. Not that he would never admit that he needed to be a slightly better person.

Never.

The next week found Hermione back in the library, at the same table, buried in the mountain of the same books. And, strangely enough, the same man across the table from her. For the entire week, he just sat there, greeting her, reading books on the strangest and most varied topics she'd ever seen, and then leaving with nothing more than a curt nod.

It was odd, to say in the least. This Loki fellow was a type of person Hermione had never met before. Sure, she knew people like him, arrogant and more than a little bit of a dick. She wouldn't deny that he was a jerk, though a very polite and well hidden one. She was far too good at reading people to gloss past it, to not see it. Still, there was something charming about him that intrigued her. Hermione knew that he was intrigued by her. She could see it in the way that when he thought she wasn't looking he would glance at her. It was like he was trying to discern something about her. As if she was a puzzle waiting to be solved.

On the seventh day of him silently sitting and reading, she spoke up.

"Would you like to go somewhere?" He lazily looked up.

"In what way?"

"You're obviously not going to leave me alone. That much is clear. So, why don't we go somewhere so we can get to know each other better." He raised an eyebrow. Hermione blushed. "No, not like that, you prat. I meant as people." He stared at her for a moment, before abruptly slamming the book he was holding shut. Hermione cringed. She hated when people disrespected books like that, even if it was rather dramatic.

"Of course. Where would you like to go?"

"There's a nice park near here. We could go there and talk. It's not like we can talk in here." The other people, dotted around the library, were already giving the pair dirty glances for imposing on their silence. "Come on, let's go." Hermione brought up her bag, hiding it under the table. She stuffed her books in it, not wanting Loki to see that it was a bottomless bag. The questions would be endless and end in an obliviate. Not something that she particularly wanted to do.

Silently, they stood and strode out of the library. It wasn't an awkward silence, though. More of a comfortable one. For some reason that she couldn't explain, Hermione was comfortable with Loki, even though he was nothing more than a stranger. She knew nothing about him except that he had an interest in Norse mythology and didn't understand science in the slightest, no matter how many physics books he read. It was amusing watching him try to decipher the passages that to her were child's play.

"We're almost there. Just a few more blocks, then we can sit down." Loki nodded.

"Are you sure you don't want me to take that bag? It had to be very heavy with all the books you're carrying."

"No!" Hermione answered. Almost too quickly. Her voice squeaked too. "What I meant to say is, I don't like other people carrying my stuff, is all."

"Alright, if that's the case."

"It is."

"The offer is always open."

"Then it will remain open for a very long time." Hermione sighed. This was the type of conversation she missed. It didn't happen very often now. She was so dedicated to her work that she didn't have much time to talk to people. Add in the factor that Harry and Ron were always off on various missions for the Auror department. She barely talked to them anymore. When she did, it was about work. Everything revolved around work. Somewhere, something had gone wrong. In all honestly, she missed the old days where they would laugh about a pencil case scooting around a table, cheering a certain one on.

Eventually, they reached the park. It wasn't large, just a small patch of grass with a few trees and one bench. At least there was no playground, with small children running around. As much as Hermione loved children, she didn't feel like dealing with their yelling and joyous screaming right now. All she needed right now was to get to know this strange man named Loki.

She plopped herself down on the bench and turned to Loki. "So, what is it you want to ask me, then?"

"I merely want to get to know you. Is that not normal?"

"I suppose it is normal enough. Come on, enough faffing around ask me some questions to get this conversation started. You managed to tear me away from my work, so this better be worth my time."

"Alright, then. What is it that makes you so dedicated to your work? What exactly is your work that requires you to research Norse mythology of all things?" Hermione faltered. That wasn't something she anticipated him asking.

"I'm a teacher," she blurted. "I'm doing a unit on mythology and trying to improve the current unit, which is subpar."

"You're lying."

"What makes you say that?" Hermione squeaked. Really, squeaking. It wasn't something she usually did. Nor something she ever intended to do again.

"You aren't a teacher."

"Yes I am."

"Then you must be a magical teacher, because you don't teach at a non-magical school."

Hermione stood suddenly. How did he knew about magic. She leaned in close.

"What do you know about me? Are you a spy, sent to...spy on me? Or worse. You're a reporter, aren't you? I knew it!" Of course, she didn't.

Loki looked scandalised at the very thought of being a reporter. "Please, I would never sink that low."

"That exactly the thing an undercover reporter would say."

"You are mistaken."

Hermione felt an inexplicable rage come over her. No matter what Loki said, she knew one thing to be true. He was not who she thought he was. And she would be having a talk with him, in a private place, where no one could see, about her privacy. Honestly, she thought that the papers were done with her. Surely thirteen years was a long enough period of time to get all the stories you could possibly need.

Apparently not.

Glaring at him, Hermione reached for his arm in one swift motion, turning on her heel the second she clasped onto his arm. After being pulled through a tube for a few seconds, they appeared in her flat. Loki was sprawled on the floor, groaning. Hermione made no effort to help him up. Instead, her arm was outstretched, wand in hand.

"Now you're going to tell me just who you are, Loki. If that is even your real name."

This is going to be a story of roughly three chapters. It won't be that long, not at all. It's a short story and will stay that way. Chapter two should be out in a few days. I apologise if they're out of character. This is something I am writing for fun.

Mariadoria.