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I've been asked stranger, trust me.

[ 'Hi, Hermione, do you want to help use your magic to make my island float so the incoming Void that shows the end of the world won't eat it? Thanks, also marry me.'

She shakes her head, walking over to stand at his side. ]

Flour? That's what we're making?

[He shifts a plate over, which contains an amount of beige-brown powder.]

Plain flour, yes. I dried out some of the wheat solid we have, then powdered it, to see if it was any good for cooking with. [A pause.] It wasn't, really, though it's not the worst thing in the world.

It's still usable, at least. [ Hermione draws the plate closer, tilting her head as she looks at it, her mind at work trying to figure out the transfiguartional formula for something like this. ] I think I can try.

I appreciate it. I should have bought some on the space station, but didn't think about it at the time. [Still too new and furious with the situation to want to plan ahead.]

I think we were all a little lost when we first arrived. I didn't even know what to do with myself apart from try and find someone that recognised me. [ Which didn't really work out in her favour. Leaning over, she draws her and and focusses, her eyes taking in the measurements of the powder before she nods her head. ] I think I'm ready.

[He leaves the comment about finding someone to recognise her well alone. He had wanted the opposite. He was too well known, for too many unpleasant reasons.]

Do you want me to move?

[ Hermione shakes her head, tugging the plate closer and considering. ]

No, you're fine.

[ Lifting her wand, she shifts and casts carefully - the powder in front of her shifts and changes and she watches, even as she focuses and tries to direct her magic in the way she learned in the Drabwurld, to see if it works. When it's all settled she reaches out with a finger, nudging it gently. ]

It looks like flour to me.

[He watches with fascination as the change comes over the wheat powder, as intrigued as he had been the day she made the celtic cross for him. Power of any sort has always drawn him, and while magic isn't mutation, it's special nonetheless.]

It does indeed. We'll find out when I make scones with it.

Scones?

[ The way she brightens is probably a little stereotypical, but it's been forever since Hermione had any kind of food that actually made her excited and she turns, eye widening. ]

Do you need more help?

It's just about the only thing I can make with what's on hand. [Cakes, his preferred method of stress baking, take too many real ingredients that they don't have. He tips his head towards her slightly, noticing the enthusiasm.] I wouldn't say no.

I should see if I can transfigure some other things for us - not just for you on the Heron but on the Vanquish too. It might save our stomachs. [ Moving to one side, she offers him the flour back with a smile. ] I'll be your assistant, then.

I've gotten a little desperate. [He moves the plate back to the middle of the bench, rolling up his sleeves.] You don't want to know what my first pass at scones tasted like.

You can get me what passes for milk, from the dispenser.

Tell me about it. [ Her nose wrinkles at the idea as she steps around to get the 'milk', speaking aloud as she goes. ] I wish we could land on a nice station that has just... Farms, or something that we can stock up on. Like we're preparing for winter, but winter is eternal, endless space.

I should have bought more on the space station. The problem was, I was new and didn't have any credits, beyond what I made working.

I did buy an overpriced salad here. It wasn't worth it.

You must have earned a few now, surely? [ Not that Hermione knows much about any of Erik's life, but - ] If not you can have some of mine. I'm not really using them for anything.

[He sounds extremely put out when he replies.] No, don't worry. I'm not in need of funds anymore. [His life is prime entertainment to the masses, with all its twists, turns, and alternate reality happenings.

Taking the milk from Hermione, he adds it to a bowl he'd tipped the flour into.]

[ Fighting the urge to laugh, she tilts her head up and tilts her head before she softens, relaxing. ]

I suppose things have been interesting with Charles turning up. At least you don't have to worry anymore.

[ Leaning on the counter, she smiles fondly. ]

We've been talking more, you know.

I wasn't too worried. [He has no compunctions about stealing what he needs. Picking up a knife, he starts to whisk the mixture, keeping a firm grip on the bowl.]

I thought you might. He's been busy lately.

[ She's not going to ask about that, thank you. Instead, she just watches Erik with a fond little smile. ]

He keeps telling me to come and spend time with you, actually.

[He makes a small noise in the back of his throat. Of course he did.]

Probably concerned at the level of socializing I do.

It probably has something to do with mine too, honestly.

[ She shakes her head. ]

I know a lot of people here that don't recognise me and he wants me to talk to them, too. Maybe starting out with someone I didn't know in the Drabwurld is easier.

[He sets the bowl down and takes up the remaining plate of flour, dusting it over the table.]

He's right in that respect. You're starting from a blank slate, rather than trying to fit something old into something new. [He was guilty of the same thing. He had, at least, finally spoken to Alex, despite his misgivings.]

I think I knew of you.

[ She admits that quietly, tilting her head over so she can watch his reaction. She's not afraid of telling him that now. ]

When you told me your name I recognised it. We never met, but you were there, with Charles. I'm sure of that.

[It doesn't shock him, his only response being a slightly raised eyebrow. She had mentioned something like that when they first spoke, that her Charles had talked of a friend with metal powers. It's not unreasonable to think he would have been mentioned.]

It seems I get around. [Here, there. Every other twist of reality that had the people from his world.] There are others here, other mutants. They come from our world, but a different version of it. They know me too, but not me.

No. I suppose it must be hard.

[ Hermione moves, though, making sure he has room before she pushes herself up to sit on the counter - mostly so she can actually see him, since he's so tall and she's so... Not. ]

I want to know you. Not what other people think of you, just... You.

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