Blood in the Water

Even as he began his impassioned plea from the middle of the council room, Captain Rip Hunter knew that it wouldn't do any good. "Caesar. Hitler. Per Degaton. Rank amateurs compared to Savage. His forces have already claimed the lives of billions. And if we possess the means to stop him and again do nothing, then their blood is on our hands."

The Time Counsel member seated in the box to the right of him stared down at him solemnly. "As a Time Master of long-standing, you seem to forget our responsibility is to protect the timeline, not humanity. You wish to engage in the very sort of manipulation of time that we are sworn to prevent."

Rip forced himself to remain calm. "And yet, if we allow humanity to perish at the hands of evil, then what universe are we the custodians of?"

"What if," another council member interjected. "In trying to save the world from Savage you make it vulnerable to another, more terrible, despot? We are not warriors, Captain Hunter. We possess no army."

"And I'm not asking for one!" he snapped, before forcing his temper back into check. "Just a single timeship and your permission to change history before Vandal Savage puts an end to it. I'm not appealing to you as Time Masters, but as humans. Please. Grant me the authority to change the timeline just this once."

Rip strode down the hall of his ship- the Waverider- making straight for the cockpit.

"How did the council meeting go, Captain Hunter?" his AI Gideon inquired.

"Exactly as expected, Gideon."

"So, we are proceeding?"

"Indeed." The security doors slid open and Rip stepped into the main cabin. "Prepare the Waverider for takeoff. Set a course for the United States, Star City, January 2016."

"Ah, the early second millennium A.D.," Gideon commented. "The golden age of gasoline engines, online pornography, and those silly little smartphones. What are we going to retrieve, Captain?"

Sitting down in his chair, Rip pulled his support-belt down and locked it into place. "Oh, not what- who. I need you to pull up some files, Gideon. The nine men and women who'll be joining us on our little crusade."

Their first stop was to pick up Dr. Ray Palmer, a.k.a. the Atom. The former CEO of Palmer Technologies was known for his genius-level intellect and- by those in the know- for his ability to shrink down to an infinitesimal size using an exosuit designed by him and powered by a dwarf-star alloy. The suit also had photon and ion cannons that were able to replicate meta-human energy blasts.

It was already impressive enough in theory but seeing the suit in action was quite the sight. Rip couldn't help applauding after he'd watched Dr. Palmer finish defeating several trained soldiers with minimal effort. When Dr. Palmer whirled around to face him, one hand raised and prepared to fire, Rip reassured him, "Oh, I am not one of your adversaries," and pulled out his stunner.

Their second stop was to Tibet to retrieve Miss Sara Lance, the first Black Canary and former member of the League of Assassins. Also, formerly dead. When Rip found her, Miss Lance was in the process of winning a bar fight.

"Miss Lance," he called, once she'd knocked the last guy unconscious. "Join me for a drink? I have come quite a long way to meet with you."

A short flight to Pittsburgh later and they were picking up their next two recruits: Professor Martin Stein and Mr. Jefferson Jackson. The two men known as Firestorm were able to combine to create a living nuclear reaction with the ability to fly, shoot fire from their hands, absorb large amounts of energy, and matter transmutation. Rip was unsure of how solid their partnership was though, considering how the two were so distracted arguing with one another that they didn't notice him coming up to them until he was knocking them out.

Next was St. Roch, Louisiana, to find Miss Kendra Saunders and Mr. Carter Hall, the latest reincarnations of Hawkman and Hawkgirl. They were also arguing when he came upon them and Rip couldn't resist asking, "Have you two considered couples counseling? I hear it's quite popular in this century." They were unconscious before they could answer- though Rip was almost positive that their answer was going to be no.

When Rip told Gideon who their next two recruits were, Gideon seemed confused. "There seems to be an error, Captain. These candidates, Leonard Snart and Mick Rory, are a pair of criminals."

"There's no error, Gideon," he responded cheerfully.

Mr. Snart and Mr. Rory- a.k.a. Captain Cold and Heat Wave. Two of Central City's more famous criminals. Known for their choice of weapons- a gun that could shoot ice and one that shot fire- and for their capability as thieves, the two were in a tenuous truce with the Flash at the moment. While at first glance, neither man would be anyone's first choice to be added to a team of heroes, Rip knew that their skills with breaking and entering would be useful to the cause.

Their last stop was their most dangerous one yet. While the other's movements could easily be tracked through history, Miss Hermione Granger's were more sporadic. The only times her presence could be accounted for were when the stakes were extremely high, making capturing her all the more dangerous. However, if they were going to succeed, Miss Granger's involvement was vital.

"Are you sure you want to do this, Captain?" Gideon cautioned. "All records indicate that Hermione Granger will be neither welcome to your presence or our cause at this point in time. Perhaps it would be a better idea to travel back and retrieve Miss Granger at a different point in time."

"No, Gideon. I don't need Wizarding Britain's Hero for this endeavor- I need their villain. This Hermione Granger is exactly who I'm looking for."

After successfully breaking into the last Rosier manor and getting away clean, Hermione had made the mistake of assuming that her night would be dull from there. The fact that she was now waking up on a rooftop proved what a fool she had been.

Hermione kept her eyes closed and remained as still as possible as she began to take stock of the situation. She could hear multiple people shifting and groaning around her but none of the voices were immediately familiar.

"Aah," one gruff, male voice groaned. "What a headache."

"Stein?" another man asked. "What the hell are you doing here?"

"I'm as ignorant as you," a polished voice responded. "For once."

"Where are we?" a female questioned.

"Why don't you ask the dude who knocked us out and kidnapped us? British dude with a flashy thing? Ring any bells?"

Americans. Why was she with a group that was seemingly all American except for their kidnapper?

Hermione was slowly remembering what had happened. A brown-haired man in a dark brown duster had appeared in front of her the moment she'd stepped foot outside the Rosier manor's gate. She had instantly pegged him as a muggle and hadn't raised her wand, though she'd kept it in hand. When he'd pulled a strange tool out of his pocket, Hermione had instinctively reacted. Before she'd been able to knock it from his hand, he'd turned it on, and a flash of white light had appeared before her eyes.

It clearly must have been some kind of stunner, though she'd never encountered one that worked using light.

He was fast- she'd give him that. If he'd been any slower, Hermione would have killed him, and she had the sneaking suspicion that he'd known that.

Finally opening her eyes, Hermione turned her head to look at the others on the rooftop with her.

They were all laid out in a line. She was the only one still lying down, everyone else was slowly pushing themselves upright.

Next to her was a dark-haired man in a metal suit. Beside him was a bald man dressed in a suit that appeared to be made of the same material used for firefighters and next to that man was another in a parka. Then there was an older gentleman, a blond woman in a fur coat, a pair in strange feathered armor, and another younger, dark-skinned man. None of them were familiar to her. Based on appearances though, at least a few of them probably belonged to the 'hero' crowd that were popping up all over. A group she did her very best to avoid.

And then, on the other side of the roof, she spotted him.

"The name's Rip Hunter," their kidnapper announced. "I'm from East London. Oh, and the future."

No.

"Nice to meet you, Rip," the man in the knock-off firefighter's uniform growled, hand dropping down to the weapon on his hip.

"Uh," Rip started, crinkling his nose. "While you were incapacitated, I may have tampered with your weapons." That didn't seem to sit well with the others, so he hurried on. "I've assembled you all because I need your help."

"No." It felt- and sounded- like the word was being ripped out of her, but Hermione was too enraged to care. She forced herself to her feet and ignored the discomfort of so many strangers staring directly at her. It wasn't as though there was anything for them to see; she was dressed from head to toe in black and a black scarf covered almost her entire face except for her eyes.

Eyes that were locked onto Rip Hunter's.

"Miss Granger," he started, hands up.

"Don't bother," she snapped. "I've got a rather good idea of what you're about to say. Let me guess, something along the lines of, 'the world is in peril and only you can save it, an infinite amount of lives could be saved, you're the heroes I need, you're our only hope'. Did I get the basic gist of it, or did I leave anything out?"

Even from across the roof, Hermione could see Hunter's jaw clench. "I understand your concerns-"

"I highly doubt that," Hermione interrupted. "As I'm sure you're aware, I've done this song and dance before and I have no interest in repeating it. Been there, done that, defeated the villain, and, after years of reflection and therapy, realized it wasn't worth it. I'll be going now."

"Perhaps you could at least hear me out before you begin casting judgements?" Hunter gritted out.

"Uh, what the hell is going on?" the youngest man interrupted.

"Yes, I would like to know as well," the older gentleman added.

Hermione and Hunter continued staring down one another before she finally shook her head. "Go on," she sneered, waving her hand. "Give them the speech."

He sighed but turned back to the rest of the group. "The future of the world is in peril because of a man by the name of Vandal Savage."

"That can't be," the man in the feathered armor responded. "We destroyed him."

"Yeah," his companion chimed in. "The Green Arrow and Flash helped us do it."

Shifting to face them, Hunter told them, "And therein lay the problem. Unless you or Mr. Hall deliver the death blow, Savage can be restored from but a single cell."

"What the hell are you talking about?" the knock-off firefighter demanded.

"Vandal is immortal, Kendra and I reincarnate," Hall answered, gesturing at his partner.

"Yeah, I've done that," the blond added, glancing around at the others.

"But, Rip," Hermione interrupted, raising her voice an octave simply because she knew it'd annoy him. "What does Vandal have to do with us?" It was petty and childish and made her feel slightly better.

The way he scowled at her did not disappoint. "In the future, he will employ the evil he's perfected over his long life, and the power he has amassed throughout history, to finally conquer the world." His voice had turned softer, darker, by the end and Hermione tilted her head in consideration. That was a tone she was all too familiar with.

"I have been tasked with assembling an elite team to stop him," Rip hurried on, voice lighter.

"How?" the blonde woman asked.

"To travel through time," Rip explained grandly, sweeping an arm out. "To capture Savage before he grows into the monster he becomes."

"Is that the speech?" the man in the metal suit muttered.

"Wait for it," Hermione whispered back.

"You've got the wrong guy," the man in the parka told him, beginning to walk away. "'Hero' ain't on my resume."

"Or mine," the knock-off firefighter added, following after him.

"I know it's difficult for you to fathom," Hunter told them. "But where- when- I'm from, the year 2166, you and everyone on this roof aren't just considered heroes- you're legends."

"And there it is," Hermione announced.

"Legends?" the man in the metal suit repeated, walking forward.

"I hate to nitpick," the old man interrupted, walking over to Rip. "But doesn't a legend have to be dead?"

Hermione rolled her eyes. "It's 150 years into the future; of course you're dead."

Rip turned to look at the rest of the group now huddled behind him- except for Hermione, who was slowly edging her way closer to the side of the roof. "It's dangerous for you to know too much about your own futures," Rip warned them. "But I am here because each of you, as individuals, is destined for greatness."

Hermione silently gagged.

The metal man didn't seem to share her distain. "I could get behind that," he told the time traveler.

Shifting back to face the two self-proclaimed non-heroes, Rip walked towards them, pulling a small square box out of his pocket as he said, "And because, if you don't follow me, this is what is in store for your world 150 years from now."

The skyscrapers and night sky around them disappeared into a sea of orange. Ash fell from the sky, the crumbled remains of buildings continued to burn, and small jets flew through the air shooting off explosives as they went. If this truly was the world that Rip had left behind, Hermione couldn't blame him for having a desire to change things.

It was too bad for him that she'd given up on the idea of being a savior a long time ago.

"I could have chosen any time and any place," Rip stated, looking back as the apocalyptic image flickered out. "Of all the people who ever lived, I chose you nine. I certainly hope you won't let me, and the world, down."

Hermione stepped onto the edge of the roof. "Sorry," she called out, unwilling to prolong things. "I've moved on from the hero business- the hours were terrible and the pay wasn't nearly enough. Good luck with your endeavor."

"I know what you think of me, Miss Granger," Rip stopped her, walking around the others to come up beside her. "And I know you think you know what it is I want from you. But you're wrong. I don't want the girl who saved Britain- if I did, I would have recruited a younger version of you. What I need, is the woman who's gained quite the reputation as a criminal mastermind who's systematically destroying the legacies of pureblood- and occasionally other- families throughout the world. Vandal Savage has spent the last 4,000 years causing chaos and actively encouraging the worst crimes known to man. He is the voice behind every dictator and the genius behind the most terrible of plans. In order to stop him, I need someone just as capable."

That was… unexpected. He made a fair point though; a much younger Hermione could have been more easily convinced to give being a hero another go. "You're either insane or desperate," she finally told him. "I'm not sure I like what either option says about you."

Rip smiled slightly and pulled out a card. "If you agree to join me, meet me at this address in thirty-six hours."

She glanced down at the card before turning away. "No need. If I want to find you, then I will." She disappeared off the roof with a crack.

Harry sat back in his chair. "So, let me see if I understand this correctly. A strange man from the future kidnapped you, showed you a scene of the world literally on fire, and requested that you join him in his attempt to save the world from an immortal tyrant."

Hermione nodded. "Myself and eight other individuals."

"And you believe him?" Ginny asked, handing Hermione a cup of tea before curling up next to her husband.

"I do. Mainly because of the technology he used- it's nothing like what I've seen before anywhere in the muggle world. I had thought that he might be using magic but there was no trace of any on him. Besides, after all the bizarre things we've encountered before and the metahumans that have been popping up, time travel really isn't the strangest idea."

After a long moment, Harry commented, "Huh. All I got was a batty old woman with a crystal ball. And I didn't even actually get that- Dumbledore did and I just got to see the recording. I think I'm jealous."

Burying her head in her hands, Hermione muttered, "Ginny, you're closer than I am. Would you mind?"

"Of course," Ginny answered. Setting her cup down, she turned towards her husband and quickly smacked him upside the head. "Stop being so insensitive! This is serious!"

Once Hermione had taken a few moments to collect herself after apparating away from Rip Hunter and his insane promises of legends and heroes, she'd gone straight to the nearest International Floo station and headed back to England. Without even really knowing why, Hermione had decided to pay Harry and Ginny a visit despite the late hour. A decision she was now regretting.

"I know it's serious," he protested. "But I also know that Hermione's going to go and she's just acting like she hasn't decided yet because she doesn't want us to think that our opinion doesn't matter to her- the serious conversation isn't necessary."

Hermione quickly looked up, locking eyes with Harry. "What are you talking about? I haven't decided anything!"

"Hermione." Harry smiled at her, too-green eyes filled with affection. "You've never needed anyone's help when making a decision before. You know what you want to do- you always have. Of course you're going; after all, it's the right thing to do. If you weren't, you wouldn't have told us about this at all."

He was right that she was going but wrong about her reasons, and Hermione couldn't help wondering if this was going to be yet another wrong decision. If this was the correct choice, then why did she feel like she was about to throw up? "Isn't this the part then where you try to talk me out of taking on such a dangerous and foolish mission?"

"Would you listen to me if I did? Would it make a difference?"

Ginny reached out and took Hermione's hand. "If it were anyone else, I would be throwing hexes until they came to their senses. But you, Hermione? You're the only one I know who can turn chaos into order and crazy into sane. You've taken on dangerous and foolish before and won. If anyone can do this and survive, it's you."

Survive? Is that the oh-so-low bar we're aiming for now?

Harry's smirk pulled her attention back to him. "Personally, I think it's good you're branching out. 'Time traveler out to save the world' sounds so much better than 'Professional Thief'. Also, it's probably more legal, which is good for me since I'm an officer of the law and all that."

"We've talked about this, Harry," Hermione sighed, rolling her eyes. "Calling me a Professional Thief implies that I steal for others as a service I am paid for; I steal for me. Calling me an Expert Thief would be much more accurate and pay homage to how much care and time I put into perfecting my craft."

Ginny laughed as Harry groaned. "Also, your whole discomfort is what makes Hermione's job that much more amusing. You're the one who spent years dragging her along into your rule-breaking ways; how else did you think it would end?"

"Hey, she's the one who brewed a potion in a bathroom and started an illegal Defense club," he protested. "I was the one who was strong-armed."

Hermione forced a smile. "I've come a long way from being concerned about being killed- or worse, expelled- haven't I?"

"I wonder what that you would say if she could see us now," her brother in all but blood mused.

"She'd probably be horrified that you became an Auror without having to sit for your N.E.W.T.'s first," Ginny teased. "I know that was a concern for me. Then again, I've always been the brain and the beauty in our relationship, so I guess it's alright if you're stupid."

The look in Harry's eyes whenever he stared at his wife always made Hermione feel… wrong. The emotions that rushed through her were unwanted, unwelcomed.

"If you're the brains and the beauty, then what do I bring to the table?"

"You're the brawn." Ginny pointedly looked at Harry's wiry physique with mirth. "And the money, of course."

"The key to every marriage- greed," Hermione mocked lightly, glad that Ginny wasn't Ron and would, therefore, be able to her words for what they were.

"The fame doesn't hurt anything either," Ginny added, patting her husband on the hand before turning back to Hermione. "It's going to be alright, Hermione. You're going to go out and have an incredible adventure and we'll be right here when you get back."

Hermione knew that Ginny was trying to be reassuring but the other woman didn't get it. She never had. Ginny had known what she'd wanted from the time she was a teenager and once she had it, she'd held tight and refused to let go. She'd wanted safety and stability. And all Hermione had ever wanted was to be free. Free of all the burdens and responsibilities that had been loaded onto her shoulders the moment Professor McGonagall knocked on her door.

But even after all this time- even after how far she had come from Know-It-All Granger, the War Heroine- it felt like she still hadn't escaped.

That, however, was not a conversation she was willing to have just then. "You mean if I get back," she deflected.

And Harry, bless his Disney-loving heart, grinned and retorted. "If. If is good."

After leaving Harry's, Hermione had gone to her flat near Diagon Alley to sleep, hoping that the morning would bring some clarity. Instead, when she woke up, she realized that she had completely forgotten to put away the previous night's takings and had forgotten to let her partner know that all was well. While they had previously agreed not to begin worrying until at least 12 hours past the estimated timeframe for the mission, Hermione had never been this late checking in.

Hermione grabbed a quick shower and then began systematically going through her apartment, throwing all the items she deemed necessary into her bag, before resetting her wards and setting out for the Leaky Cauldron. On her way there, she ducked into her favorite café for some coffee and pastries, hoping he'd be less upset with her if she arrived with a bribe.

She nodded in greeting to Hannah upon entering the Leaky Cauldron- vaguely missing the days when it was still Tom behind the bar- but didn't stop to chat. Moments later, Hermione was at the front of Wizarding Britain's most famous shopping centre.

Considering the fact that it was a Tuesday morning, the streets weren't too terribly crowded but Hermione couldn't help feeling slightly uncomfortable. There were a few things she needed to pick up though, so she pushed those feelings aside for the moment and made her way to the Apothecary and then to the bookstore before heading further down the alley.

The bell jingled as she pushed open the shop door.

"Hello," the woman at the counter greeted, sorting through some packages. "Welcome to-" she glanced up. "Oh! Hey, Hermione."

"Hello, Mary," she greeted. "How are you?"

"I'm well, thanks. I was told to tell you to just head on back."

Hermione nodded and made her way through the mostly-empty shop until she reached the workshop and knocked loudly on the door.

"It's open!"

"I'm not opening the door myself," she shouted back. "Not after last time."

His laughter echoed into the hall and Hermione couldn't help smiling as George Weasley opened the door. "You are late," he scolded, taking her things from her and setting them aside before pulling her into a hug.

"A wizard is never late," Hermione quipped, wrapping her arms around his waist and squeezing tightly. "I arrived precisely when I meant to."

George pulled away and ushered into the room. "Care to share what kept you away?"

She hated knowing that she was responsible for the tired and worried look in his eyes. "It's a rather long story. Before we get into it, I wanted to give you this." Hermione opened her bag and carefully pulled out a picture frame. "It seems your information was correct."

He took the frame from her, carefully studying the image. "Portrait of a Young Man by Raphael. I honestly don't know why anyone would bother stealing this- it's not even that good."

Rolling her eyes, Hermione reminded him, "Art is subjective. And it doesn't really matter why the Rosier's decided to steal it, it just matters that they did."

"I suppose." George set the picture down on the other side of the room, as far away from his experiments as he could manage right then. As soon as they were done, he would make sure the proper authorities received it. "You find anything else?"

Hermione shrugged. "A few rare books that could be useful, some expensive and extremely ugly jewelry, and several family heirlooms. I did also find a large amount of research carefully cataloguing the Rosier's family tree back for over a thousand years and some rather distasteful artwork celebrating their centuries of blood supremacy. I took photographs before setting it all on fire."

George's grin was wicked as he quoted, "'I don't want your money, I don't want your crown, see I've come to burn your kingdom down'."

"That is the phrase I live by."

Sitting down on a stool, George gestured for Hermione to also sit. "Did you get everything deposited in the vault?"

Grimacing, she admitted, "No, I completely forgot. It was easy enough getting in and out of the manor, but I ran into a… complication afterwards."

Telling George what had happened was both easier and harder than it had been with Harry. He was much more open-minded than Harry, but that meant that he also noticed more.

Once she'd finished, George asked, "Why do you believe him?"

"Because it wouldn't make sense as a lie," Hermione answered honestly. "An enemy of ours would have either killed or tortured me for information; they would never have lowered themselves to involving muggles. Especially not muggles that seem to be running in the superhero and supervillain circles that have been popping up. Combined with the technology he was using… either he's a time traveler, or he's a new supervillain with a very interesting and different approach."

He nodded. "Makes sense. However, if he is actually a time traveler, you do understand what it means that he chose you, right?"

"Of course. His plan is to pull multiple people from the timeline in order to join him on a dangerous quest to stop an immortal psychopath. There is a high probability that anyone who goes with him might not make it back, which means that he can only bring along individuals who aren't integral to the timeline. Either I no longer do anything of note from this point onwards, or I die in the near future." Hermione's tone was distant, clinical. She'd known all this the moment Hunter had begun explaining his mission. After all, Hermione was well-versed in the rules of time travel.

"Did you speak with Harry about this?" George asked. Hermione nodded, and something in her expression seemed to tell him how it went because he sighed. "He wants you to go, doesn't he?"

Hermione glanced off to the side, lips pursed. "He thinks that I want to go because it's the right thing to do. And he thinks that my joining another epic quest to save the world will help me return to the path of the straight and narrow."

He nodded. "I imagine that there's also some appeal to the idea that you'll be known as a 'legend'. As much as Harry claimed not to like it, he threw around the whole 'Boy-Who-Lived' title whenever he could."

"Oh, he still does. Though remember, now it's the 'Boy-Who-Won'."

George let out a bark of laughter, but quickly turned serious again. "Are you going then?"

She sighed, closing her eyes. "Yes, but my reasons aren't as noble as Harry would like to delude himself into believing."

"They never are," he murmured.

Opening her eyes, Hermione met George's gaze and allowed herself to drop her guard. "He made it sound as though Savage has spent the last 4,000 years causing chaos everywhere he went. Essentially described him as a power-hungry dictator that spent his life dealing in death and destruction. If that's true, it would be reasonable to assume that Savage either witnessed or had a hand in almost every truly terrible moment in history. What if it's not just the muggle world he's a part of?"

Straightening up, George prodded, "You think he was working with Voldemort? That he was a part of our war?"

"I don't know. But if he was, then he's another person who ruined our lives and then got to just walk away. And I can't live with that uncertainty- I have to know if he was involved. And if he was, then I'm going to do everything I can to make him pay. And if he's not then I'll at least have the opportunity to ruin some lives in a new and original way. Either way, it'll be a win for me."

George understood. He always had. "Remember when we thought that everything would be good again after we won the war?" he asked. "Hard to believe we were once so naïve."

"We thought that because we didn't know better; we didn't know that things were always terrible, and we were just too blind to see it. Now we aren't. We know the truth; the war may be over, but the fighting never is."

He ran his hands over his face. "Alright. I get it. When do you leave?"

"Tomorrow."

"In that case, I think I've got the perfect going away present for you." Pulling out a scrap of paper from his pockets, George tossed it to her. "If you're leaving, you should go out with a bang."

Hermione unfolded the paper and studied that address neatly scrawled onto it. "Whose address is this?"

"It's the Dumbledore family estate." Her head snapped up and she gapped at George, who smirked at her reaction. "I finally managed to track it down. And, I've got in on good authority that Aberforth would be absolutely thrilled if the place were to mysteriously burn to the fucking ground."

She laughed. "In that case, I'm pleased to be of assistance." Hermione stuffed the slip into her pocket and reached out to snag George's hand. "I wish I could tell you that this isn't goodbye. That I'll be back soon. But we don't lie to one another, so I won't. All I can do is promise you that I'll do everything I can to get back here safe and sound."

"We'll be waiting when you do."

Leonard Snart couldn't help feeling amused at the frustrated look on Martin Stein's face as he stared around the empty lot that Rip had told them to meet him at. He also couldn't help wondering how long it would take for someone to jack Stein's silver BMW convertible once they were gone.

"Professor!" he greeted, walking towards him. He and Mick had run into the others on their way into the lot and were walking together. While he'd met Stein before, he only knew Ray Palmer and Sara Lance by reputation. The Atom and the former Black Canary and League of Assassin member were rather well-known in their little community due to their connection with the Green Arrow. The last couple- Kendra Saunders and Carter Hall- were relatively unknown; Hawkgirl and Hawkguy had only shown up on the scene a few months ago. "This is the place."

"I think we're being punked," Palmer loudly announced before quietly adding, "Do people still say 'punked'?"

"No," Sara answered shortly.

"I see your buddy threw himself a going away party," Mick commented to Stein, glancing at the unconscious man in his passenger seat.

"Yes," Stein answered. "I believe he drank something that didn't quite agree with him."

So, the kid hadn't been on board. Snart looked behind him at Kendra, who was scowling with her arms crossed tightly over her chest. Seems the kid wasn't the only one. "You don't look too happy to be here."

"Perceptive," she stated coolly.

"Well," came Rip's voice and they turned to see him standing in front of them. "I see you all decided to come."

"Not all of us," Sara told him. "Looks like Granger decided not to show."

From the way Rip was frowning, Snart guessed that he wasn't happy to hear that. "That's unfortunate, but it is her choice. I can't force her to join."

"I'm glad to hear you know that," Granger commented and Snart's eyes snapped upwards. There, seemingly standing in mid-air behind Rip, was the woman in black. "After your little kidnapping stunt, I was worried about your ability to understand that no means no. Though," she glanced over at Jefferson's unconscious form, "apparently that concern should be extended to the rest of your team."

Rip grinned. "You decided to come after all."

"I'm still weighing my options," she told him, tone bland. "Before I make my decision, I have one question for you: Why are you after Savage?"

Rip frowned. "I told you-"

"No. You told us how terrible Savage is and what will happen if he isn't stopped, but you haven't explained why you, Rip Hunter, are hunting Savage."

"Because it's the right thing to do," he answered slowly, but it was clear to everyone that he was hiding something- that there was more to it.

Snart was too far away, but he could still almost hear Granger's scoff. "Righteousness doesn't get you very far on a quest like this, Captain Hunter. In fact, righteousness is usually the first thing to go. Now, for almost everyone else joining you on this little jaunt, morality- and a selfish need for adventure- is what's causing them to ally themselves with you.

"But eventually, that will falter. When they watch a teammate become injured, witness an innocent die, or just generally see how dangerous all this is, that righteous determination you're relying on is going to slip away. Which is why it is vitally important that there is a leader not being pulled by such emotions- someone who will keep us on the path with everything they have. We need someone who cares."

She knelt down in mid-air, that much closer to the hard expression on Rip's face. "We haven't witnessed just how horrific Savage can be. We haven't seen just how much damage he'll inflict on humanity for no other reason than because he can and because it's fun. We haven't seen innocents slaughtered by the dozen or watched the streets run red with blood. We have not and most likely never will understand just how terrible Savage is.

"You have. You have seen things that we can't even imagine right now. You have seen just how bad it can be. If you want this mission to succeed- if you want me to join you- then prove to me that all of this isn't happening because 'it's the right thing to do'. Show me that you have the will and the drive to lead us through this and that when we start to falter, you'll have the heart to remind us why it matters.

"One of us has to care, Hunter, and, Gods willing, it won't be me. Tell me why you're either going to stop Savage or you're going to die trying."

For a long moment, it looked like Rip wasn't going to answer. Then- "I had a son. Jonas. A wife. I had a family." He sounded like the words were being dragged out of him. "He slaughtered them. He killed my family, and thousands of other families. And he's been doing so for centuries. And if I know that and do nothing to help stop him, then their blood is on my hands. That's why I volunteered for this mission."

Snart glanced around at the others and realized it had finally clicked for them. He wasn't in this for the glory of being a hero, but they were. And it finally dawned on them just how real the threat of Savage was. Besides the two who reincarnated, of course. That guy just seemed solemn and tired, and the girl sad.

Straightening up, Granger took a step back and then leapt forward, rolling in mid-air before landing on her feet in a crouch. Straightening up, she moved to stand in front of Hunter. "Now that is the kind of leader I can get behind. Not a self-righteous idiot, or a bastard with a superiority complex, but a leader who cares and will admit to doing so."

Rip's eyes widened in surprise and hers crinkled slightly in the corners. "As long as you stay angry, then I'll help you. Provided, of course, that you remember exactly who you're dealing with. You said that you didn't want the hero, and I'm holding you to that."

The Time Master took a second to let that sink in before smiling. "In that case," he glanced over at the rest of the team, "I suppose we should be on our way. Provided, of course, that the rest of you still want to come."

Hall stepped forward first. "We know what Savage is capable of. We'll do whatever it takes to stop him once and for all." Kendra sighed, but nodded in agreement.

"Doesn't change anything for us," Snart stated, glancing at Mick.

"Me neither," Sara confirmed, and Palmer nodded in agreement.

Stein simply stated, "You informed us from the start that we were being brought together to save the world from Savage. The fact that you, yourself, have had previous encounters with Savage does not change the fact that the world will suffer if he isn't stopped."

"Well then," Rip rubbed his hands together and turned his back on the group, "we can be on our way."

"I ain't footing it anywhere," Snart informed him.

"A Time Master's sacred charge is to do no harm to the timeline," he told them, pulling something out of his pocket. "Can you imagine what a timeship would look like in, say, Victorian England?"

"Holographic indigenous camouflage projection," Stein stated, sounding awed.

"Indeed," Rip agreed, pressing a button and ship appeared seemingly out of thin air.

It was an impressive sight, Snart couldn't deny that. And everyone else seemed to be just as fascinated as him, except for one.

"So that's how you did it," he murmured, sidling up to Granger. "You were standing on the ship."

"Well, of course," she told him, tilting her head back to meet his gaze. "What other possible answer could there be?"

"It's called the Waverider," Rip continued, though Snart had stopped paying attention to him. "It's been my ship for over a decade. Shall we?"

A small smile played at the edge of Snart's lips. "I'm Leonard Snart and this is my partner, Mick Rory."

Granger glanced back at Mick and nodded in greeting. "I'm Hermione Granger."

As they started to walk towards the ship, he said, "So, Hermione, you told Rip that you weren't a hero. Seems we have that in common."

"Apparently. What exactly is it that you two are known for?"

"Stealing mostly," Leonard answered without any shame. "A bit of killing as well."

"Well, as long as it's only a bit," she snorted. "You and your partners' outfits seem a bit unusual. Since you're familiar with the others- who I'm guessing are part of the hero crowd- does that mean your weapons aren't something the average man would be carrying?"

"No. I'm curious about you though. You're right, I'm familiar with the others because our paths tend to cross. But not you. So, what makes you so special that Rip just had to have you along?"

Hermione laughed. "Now where would be the fun in answering that? I think it'd be much more enjoyable to watch you try and fail to puzzle it out on your own. Because, to be honest, Leonard, I'd be surprised if you could. I really would."

Leonard couldn't help grinning. This was already turning out to be a lot more enjoyable than he'd expected. Puzzling out just who Hermione Granger is was going to be fun.