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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.

[Watching her move up onto the counter, he has to wonder if she'd be so earnest if she knew the slightest thing about his past. So many times he felt he'd deceived his teammates, for becoming someone different to what was exposed through his memories. Would he have earned any of those friendships, had he started as his real self?

Who even was that, anymore.

He tips the bowl onto the powered-down table, leaving the lump of dough there.]

Well, feel free to ask me questions.

We could play a game - ask a question each.

[ Hermione isn't afraid, not really. She had been friends with the best and worst of people - Dorian, the madman with a portrait who died and died and woke up the next morning laughing; Gilgamesh, the King of Heroes that had wanted to marry her and murder her in the same breath; Katsa, brilliant and violent who had broken her heart and rose up to repair it as well and so many others, dangerous, incredible people that had charmed her and loved her throughout her life.

Softening, she smiles. ]

I can go first, unless you want to.

Go ahead.

[In the meantime, he starts to spread out the dough with his fingers, flattening and pressing.]

Alright.

[ She pauses, considering, before she smiles. ]

How did you meet Charles?

[He was fully prepared not to answer any questions he deemed too personal. This nearly counted, but as stories go it wasn't so bad.]

He saved me from drowning, actually.

I'm not sure I want to ask what you were doing drowning.

[ Because knowing what she does about the boys - she's trying hard not to call them 'her boys', really, but they're getting there - it was probably dangerous. ]

At least he was there, though.

Trying to stop a submarine. [Which doesn't actually explain much.] He sensed I was out there and jumped into the ocean - tackled me, really.

That does sound like Charles. [ She shakes her head, smiling fondly. ] If he doesn't get himself into trouble he goes running after it like an idiot.

[He smiles a bit himself, in silent agreement. The dough is starting to flatten out nicely. Before they can get into more specifics on what happened that day, he chooses his own question.]

Have you always been a witch?

Ah - that's complicated.

[ She pauses, considering for a moment before she decides to go with the easiest explanation. ]

I think I have always been a witch, but I didn't know until I was eleven. I used to do silly things like jump out of trees without getting hurt and I never really understood why I was alright, not until the headmaster of my school came and explained that I had magic.

So it only becomes obvious at a certain age?

I think it depends on what sort of family you grow up with. People that have magical parents will be raised knowing they're going to go to school for magic, but people like me that have muggle parents won't really know until someone comes and tells them. People don't really believe magic is real, after all.

[Not quite like mutation, then.] I know I didn't, until I ended up in other worlds. Then again, people there would often assume our mutations were a form of magic.

When I first met Charles I did think it was a kind of magic - we have a sort of mind reading in my world, a way of looking at memories and the emotions attached to them, and blocking them too. It was after a long talk that we realised how different it was.

[ Because that's what massive nerds do. It's her turn now, though, and she considers for a moment. ]

Favourite book?

[It's time to cut the scones out of the mix. Taking the knife again, he begins cutting circles into the dough.]

Favourite, hm... I'm partial to Frankenstein, and The Once and Future King.

The Once and Future King - that's about King Arthur, isn't it?

[ She grins, tilting her head as she watches - not being a very good helper, awkwardly. ]

I met him, once. And Merlin, too. Sir Lancelot was my brother.

[He's very domineering in the kitchen, unfortunately. The comment about meeting Merlin and Lancelot gives him pause.]

You've certainly met a lot of mythical people.

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