Random piece. Have no idea why or where I'm going with this. Just striked my fancy. PM me for ideas I guess?

The summer the Pevensies returned from Narnia for the first time had been an uneventful one, except, of course, the business with Hermione Granger and the invisible pub. Edmund had later fessed up to the whole thing, and Peter himself had admitted that the whole thing sounded fishy, especially since it was the era of telephones and wire and Owls sounded suspiciously… not-normal. The rest of the year passed without occurrence, except of course, when their train ride was interrupted before it was even started, by Prince Caspian's horn for help.

What you have to understand about coming back to our normal world after being in Narnia, is the sudden effect it has on your psyce and body. For Narnian air worked magic on the body and mind, and when the Pevensies returned back, they found that their strength was diminished for a while. The minds were equally effected, for it is not easy to adjust oneself back to the boring curriculum of schools and studies once one has just got used to the Narnian air and excitement and the strength of a King and the memories of glorious Wars and Battles.

As such, when the Pevensies returned from Narnia after their Adventures on the Dawn Treader, with clear instructions that they would not be returning again, it was most disappointing. However, they returned friends with their cousin Eustace Scrubb from Cambridge and soon, Peter was back from his studies with Professor Kirke and also had another story to share with them. The Professor had finally confessed to him the true story about how Narnia came to be and they, in return, informed him about their adventure. The Professor was most interested to hear of these adventures and they obliged.

Another year passed and both Peter and Susan were back home when they heard news of Hermione Granger's parents shifting to Australia. The older two were to start college that year, while there was still another year for Edmund and yet another more for Lucy.

Their personalities, were obviously affected by their experiences in Narnia, and the four siblings grew up to be a rather reserved lot. They were wise and mature kids, who could often be heard talking about more grown up things in a grown up way, which often lead them to not have a very good peer circle.

More time passed, another year and summer, and Edmund almost forgot about the whole matter, when one day, he was out on a rather rainy night, with two of his few friends, indulging in a rather lengthy pub crawl since he would be leaving to join a college next month and they would be parting ways. He could hold his drink really well for a boy his age, so when a newcomer entered the pub, it didn't take him too long to recognize the slightly frizzy hair that used to be a lot bushier.

"I say!" He exclaimed suddenly, a bit rudely one might say, but he still had some effect of the drinks in his system. The girl – woman – looked at him quickly for a second, but dismissed him equally as fast, not recognizing him. It took him a few seconds, but the sudden shock of seeing her seemed to make him less inebriated by the second.

"What? What? Where?" One of his boys, Adrian squinted, turning his head this way and that, but Edmund thumped him on the back, absently muttering something about being back soon because he knew both of his mates were quite drunk.

"Fancy seeing you here." He remarked quietly, settling down beside his petite, age old classmate, and wondering in the back of his head exactly why he was doing this. Hermione's reaction, however, was something that had him narrowing his eyes and returning to the time he used to deal with suspicious criminals.

Her spine snapped ram rod straight and she quickly flicked her eyes to him and then, for some reason, to his clothes. She stared for a few moments, and he saw on her face that she didn't recognize him.

"You don't remember." He stated with a raise of an eyebrow, and she raised one right back, not relaxing.

"Sorry, I don't think I know you." She stated in a rather cold voice, and Edmund felt an odd tug in his abdomen. Something was familiar about her, too familiar. It wasn't the voice or the face, for both had changed too much, it was something else. Underlying tones. Deep within. It confused and intrigued him highly.

"Edmund Pevensie – we went to school together." He said in explanation and saw her brows furrow deeply as she blinked for a few seconds longer. And then he saw the moment it occurred to her, for her spine relaxed suddenly, as if she had thought him some stalker or murderer.

"Of course! Pevensie! I remember now – yeah, fancy seeing you here. " She said, smiling politely, but he could see it didn't reach her eyes. There was still a tightness in her body he couldn't place. Perhaps she remembered how horrid he had been to her always, for he certainly did. Should he apologize for that now? Would it seem too out of the blue?

"Yeah, I know you don't fancy it too much. Don't blame you. I am sorry for all the times I've spent harassing you." He said earnestly, thinking he might as well apologize. And then he added, "If it still means anything, that is. I'm a changed man, I dare say." He mostly said the last part as introspection to himself, but Granger seemed to have caught it anyway. Her eyebrows rose slightly at his changed and rather sincerer tone.

"You do seemed to have changed." She said, tilting her head curiously, inspecting him, as if by looking at him harder she might be able to spot the change. "What happened to bring that about?"

"I met a woman." He blurted out with a stupid chuckle, when he really shouldn't have said anything. He had immediately thought of the White Witch, Jadis, and how he still thought she was the most beautiful and most terrible woman he had ever seen.

"She ditched you or you ditched her?" Hermione inquired back with a smirk, which made him snort rather loudly. Wait what?

"Nothing of the sort happened. I just met her. That's all." He replied, feeling queasy. He had never talked about her to anyone. Not even his siblings.

"Sounds like an interesting woman. How did you meet?" Hermione replied, curiosity in her voice, when two drinks that he didn't remember ordering were placed in front of them. Hermione downed hers at once, turning to him expectantly, waiting to hear his answer probably.

He drank the liquid in the glass, for he had no qualms about getting drunk at all, even though it made him feel rather weird and rash. "How did we meet? Well, you could say she was Skeeing I suppose. I liked her at once because she offered me Turkish Delight." He chuckled at the memory, even though it still remained the most amazing dessert he had ever had. His mouth watered at the thought. He swallowed quickly.

"However, I realized what an evil witch she was, not before our side had suffered some major losses because of me though. Of course, I would never take back anything, with the results that came of it." He replied eventually, almost forgetting that it was Hermione's question he was answering.

"What was her name?" Hermione asked equally quietly, and it struck him for a moment that she was taking it all in and not being skeptical, which was what he had expected.

"The White- I mean, uh. Jadis, I think." He said, quickly overriding his words, for he knew how silly it would sound. "Enough of that though, what brings you here? I heard your parents shifted to Australia a while back."

It was a sudden change of subject, and Hermione acknowledged it with a raised eyebrow but let it slide. Then she hunched her shoulders slightly while answering, "Ah, I had to settle some things about the house. I'm still living in London of course, just not in the same house."

"Oh." He nodded in understanding, even though he didn't really understand.

"Anyway, it's really late and I should get going or Harry will start worrying." She said wearily, draining her second glass of what looked like whiskey. Then she started getting up and tightened a striped scarf around her neck, which he hadn't noticed before.

"By the Lion's mane…" He cursed under his breath, because at the two ends of the scarf, the knitted scarf, was a lion's symbol, exactly like the ones that were on their banners at Cair Paravel. Before he knew what he was doing, he was touching an end softly, straightening it out to get a good look and for sure, it was exactly the same shape. Only the back ground was yellow instead of green.

And then, the most weird thing happened. He had been trying to pinpoint the familiarity he felt and suddenly, he knew – it was magic. He had always been able to feel magic – spot it somehow and feel when it was at work. This, however, was not ancient magic like he was used to. It had a new undertone to it. What the…

It was then that he realized the full consequence of the situation – but how? He looked up at Hermione with wide eyes and a bewildered face and his heart beating with more excitement than he cared to admit. What did this mean?

Hermione, for her part, looked highly suspicious of him, and mildly confused, slowly pulling the scarf out of his reverent hands. But there was only one thought running in his head – how?

"Wait! How – Where did you get this scarf?" His voice sounded far off and a lot more constricted than he had realized and he didn't know it but his eyes were shining slightly with hope. Liquid hope.

"I made it. Why? Is everything alright, Edmund?" Hermione asked slowly, the slightly confused expression still on her face.

"Yeah, alright. Everything… Do you – where did you say you were going for the night?" He asked abruptly, thinking for an excuse to stay with her for a while. How was this possible? Did magic exist in their world? Why was he getting such strong vibes from the girl?

"My friend's house. Why?" Perfect, he thought to himself.

"Well, you shouldn't really be out this late at night. Come on, I'll walk you there." He said, and quickly went back to grab his jacket from his previous table. Making quick work of a feeble explanation to his friends, he met Hermione outside the pub, waiting patiently, still not fully understanding the situation. How could he explain it to her? Would she even believe it if he told her?

"So are you going to enlighten me to the reason for this extremely gentlemanly behavior, Edmund?" She said eventually, once they had started walking to – well, he had no idea.

Edmund chuckled quietly to himself. She thought he was being a gentleman. Well, she wasn't wrong.

"Well, let's say I'm trying to make up for previous mistakes." He replied quietly. Edmund liked being quiet, and appreciated people who understood it's importance, and didn't feel the need to interrupt it.

"Right." Hermione said, a rather skeptical tint to her voice. He could think of no ideas to turn the conversation in the direction he wanted, so he went for the only opening he could think of.

"So, the symbol on the scarf – what does it mean?" He turned to look at her expression, take in as much information as he could. She frowned for a second before replying.

"It's the symbol of my former school house. We are a rather proud bunch." She said, smiling slightly, then added by herself, "Gryffindor – Where dwell the brave at heart!" And then she grinned.

Edmund, however, didn't see what there was to laugh about. He was still trying to figure out why he was getting such strong magical vibes from the girl he hardly knew, but had knowm since he was a kid.

"Right." He said at last, "You went to a boarding school in Scotland, didn't you? I remember now."

She nodded slightly in response, for it had been what her parents had told everyone in the neighborhood.

"Why didn't you return home after fifth year? Your parents still lived here." He asked curiously, remembering the whole deal with the curtains.

"Oh I did return, I just didn't stay for very long. I used to go to a friends' house really soon. What made you think that, though?" She turned confusedly to him.

"Oh right." Well great – that was a great way to put his foot into his mouth. "I – uh, my room was right across yours in the street… So when the curtains didn't open I figured you'd stopped coming."

Now her eyebrows were definitely touching her hairline and she looked like she wasn't sure if to be irritated at him or blush. He quickly muttered a "Sorry!" before she could form words, with an apologetic expression on his face, trying to convey that he really was sorry.

She eventually settled for looking cross while she blushed, and pressed her mouth inwards slightly. They walked in silence for a few minutes, before he decided to break it by suddenly blurting out the only worthy question he could think of.

"Do you believe in magic?"

He saw Hermione's eyes widen slightly as she whipped around to face him, bushy hair flying, though not as bushy as he remembered. "W-what?"

There was a sudden thick tension filled silence as she stopped walking completely and stared at him with an indiscernible expression. He waited patiently for her to get over the shock and give him an answer, even though he felt like she was going to do something rash any moment. He could feel the familiar and at the same time, unfamiliar tone of magic thicken.

"What makes you say that?" She asked eventually after what felt like a long minute. For some reason, Edmund decided that he would have to be honest, for there was no other way to achieve his ultimate goal.

"I can feel it." He responded quietly, and he could feel the change in his voice. It was almost like the magic was changing him, like it did in Narnia.

"That's a very useful skill to have." Hermione replied, in the same quiet voice. It didn't answer his question, but she might as well have said yes. Now the next step would be to figure out what exactly she was.

He had already scratched out dwarfs, fairies, gnomes and all other hybrids which produced ugly results, for the woman might as well have been a half-tree creature with that mane of hair and rather delicate face. However, there was nothing like being direct, since it was having a most rewarding result.

"And what exactly are you? Because it's in your core and it's rolling off your person." He asked eventually, but he had not even thought that she would reply so readily.

"A witch, obviously. And what do you m-"

Edmund made a sudden hiss as his senses went on full alert. In the next second, he had his dagger in his right hand, something that he kept on him always since old habits die hard. He had quickly moved back three steps, widened his legs in a battle stance, for the word 'witch' rang alarm bells in his head and he was quickly going through the whole scenario of that night, trying to pin point where she could have enchanted him.

"Edmund! What the hell?" Hermione exclaimed suddenly, but there was a wand in her hand too now. She looked quite confused by his behavior, but shame on him if he was going to buy it. He wasn't letting that happen again.

"What are you doing here? How did you get here? And what do you want?" He spoke quickly, the rather longish dagger held like he would hold a sword, and Hermione seemed to grow confused with his every word.

"What I want is to go home and have a night's rest! And I was having a perfectly good drink when you came upto me! What do you want? And will you lower that knife? It's not going to do you any good."

"Like hell I will. You're going to tell me how you got here. In England. And where you came from and why."

"Wh- How I got here?" Hermione repeated with total confusion. "What do you mean? I've always lived here. And why I came home might have something to do with the fact that I wanted to have my life back after fighting continuously for years!"

And then Edmund remembered, with a flash, that he had in fact grew up with the girl. How could she be a witch? And one that young? But she carried a wand – even though it was rather simple looking and nothing more than a wooden stick. And what did she mean fighting for years?

"I don't understand." He said eventually, still not lowering his hand, "You grew up a witch? How? How is that possible? Do your parents know? And you look normal."

Hermione looked thoroughly irritated by now. "Well, forgive me for not wearing a black cloak and green and purple make-up! And a hat I suppose – that would match your fancy too, wouldn't it?!"

And then she suddenly paused. "Wait, when you were talking about the woman – did you mean an actual witch?" She lowered her wand suddenly and looked slightly alarmed. It was the panic in her eyes and her own defenseless action that finally made him relax his stance somewhat.

"Yes, I meant an actual witch. But you don't need to worry about it – she wasn't one from this world then, I suppose. Since they do exist here too…?" He replied eventually, and moved slightly forward to confirm his suspicion.

Hermione nodded, looking rather surprised by his answer.

"Do you mean to tell me you've been to another world?" She said, voice full of awe and eyes shining rather brightly. He nodded, and couldn't keep almost the equal amount of awe from his voice, and the realization that came with it.

"We do have magic in this world. Does that mean you could try finding another world by magic?" He turned to her and found her staring with wide eyes. He somehow had the impression that she was thinking of a lot of possibilities and theories in the same moment.

"Well, I suppose a research in The Department of Mysteries has been going on on that for a while, but we can't be sure that-"

"Hermione, shut up right now." Edmund snapped, physically throwing out an arm toward her, for he could suddenly feel a strange pulling sensation near his navel and the sound – he could hear the tremble of the horn in the air. The tremble of the earth. The tremble of the suddenly deafening roar.

Length got slightly out of hand I guess. Still don't know what exactly Im doing here.