Spiders are a Witch's Best Friend
Summary: Hermione has never been normal, Muggleborn Witch status aside, so when her father Jonathan disappears, Hermione is left to seek out her mother, whom she has never met.
I do not own Harry Potter, or the Marvel Cinematic Universe.
Chapter 1)
The end of the school year came quickly, much to the displeasure of quite a few students, such as Harry Potter and one of his best friends, Hermione Granger.
Hermione Granger was a petite girl, whose bushy brown hair was even bigger than she was. She was a rather bossy little swot, much to the ire of most of her Gryffindor Housemates as she had a tendency to correct even the older students and was the most rule-abiding student to ever grace least, she would have been had her friends not been Harry Potter and Ronald Weasley, both of whom had a natural talent for getting into trouble. Many of the other students were amazed that the two boys could actually spend lengthy time with the Muggleborn witch, as the vast majority-even Neville Longbottom, whom she was rather good friends with-saw her as rather annoying and stuck-up. Her roommates, Lavender Brown, Parvati Patil and another girl, often whispered to other students how Granger would block her bed with the heavy curtains, refusing to socialize with the other 's reputation as a stuck-up, bossy swot was secure, so her displeasure at being sent home was vastly believed to be due to the girl's fascination with homework.
The truth was...less pleasant.
Still, all students had to return home, so Hermione got on the train.
"Happy to be going home?" She asked the boys pleasantly.
Ron shrugged, while Harry grinned at Hogwarts.
"I'm not going home. Not really."
Hermione couldn't help but smile at that.
XOXOXOX
The young girl paid the cabby, exiting the vehicle and heading towards the house.
Honestly, Hermione couldn't remember the last time she had actually had a home. Her father and her had been on the run for so long, that he had nearly had a heart attack when Professor Mcgonagall had approached them to give her her letter. People didn't find them easily. At least, not people who weren't trying to kill them.
The house was one of the many safe houses Father had set up, a rather nondescript house in the busiest part of London. Hermione pulled out her key and inserted it into the lock,turning the key.
She hung up her coat on the rack in the walkway, venturing farther inside of the house.
It was immaculate, the fine aspen floors polished and not a speck of dust to be seen.
She frowned.
Her father, while a perfectionist in a great deal of things, was actually somewhat messy. He thought better in chaos, he claimed.
This...was not natural.
Her fears were well founded as a rather burly man grabbed her.
"I got the brat!" He yelled.
It was a mistake.
Hardwired training activated as Hermione flipped the man on his back. Her body moved instinctively as her brain shut off for once.
She moved with the grace of a dancer, dodging the attacks and flipping the various attackers to their backs. She twisted, she spun.
She made it to the kitchen.
The attackers followed her in, and she grinned widely.
She threw a knife, which knocked down a board which was holding up a shelf, where the flour was kept. She dove across the floor, sliding between their legs like a baseball player. She twisted so she was on her feet, throwing a lighter.
She bolted as the flour caught, exploding.
She ran down the hall, grabbed her trunk and threw herself and it outside as her house exploded.
She groaned, but stood, dusting herself off. She had gotten sloppy.
She was usually able to kill people without resorting to blowing up her house.
She frowned.
What was she supposed to do now?
It hit her, as she looked at the notecard she had located in the chaos.
Oh no. No nononono.
She was going to have to see her..Mother.
How in the hell was she supposed to get to America?!
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So, I'm rewriting this fic. Still basic plot, just had some new ideas...
Hope ya'll enjoy!