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Chapter 27: A Tale of Two Phones
🕑 Added 2025-09-03 18:39:41 +0000 UTCThey emerged from the oppressive darkness of the Forbidden Forest under the cold, watchful light of the moon. Malfoy was a wreck. His legs, having turned to jelly at the first sight of the cloaked monster, refused to function. He had to be half-dragged, half-carried between a disgusted Harry and a long-suffering Ron, his teeth chattering uncontrollably as he whimpered about werewolves and Mudbloods with guns.
When Snape saw the state of his prize Slytherin, his face contorted into a mask of cold fury. He directed a venomous glare at Hagrid, promising a full report to the Headmaster, before turning his usual vitriol on Harry. But as he lectured, Harry didn’t flinch. Instead, he watched the Potions Master with a new, thoughtful expression. He’d seen the man’s undisguised hatred, but he’d also just seen him rush into a dangerous forest, seemingly to ensure their safety. It didn’t make sense.
Hermione, watching the traumatized look in Malfoy’s eyes whenever they accidentally met hers, simply shook her head with a sigh. Honestly, Voldemort, she thought with a flicker of dark humor, look how you’ve frightened the child. You ought to be ashamed of yourself.
The world twisted with a familiar, nauseating lurch. The damp, earthy smell of the Hogwarts grounds was violently replaced by the sharp, metallic tang of a New York back alley. She had been gone for less than a minute when the phone in her pocket buzzed to life. She pulled out the sleek, black, state-of-the-art satellite phone S.H.I.E.L.D. had given her.
“Hello?”
“Little Hermione!” Natasha’s voice, warm and professionally cheerful, came through the line. “I have great news. They found Stark a few weeks ago. He’s back. I wanted to tell you sooner, but… well, we haven’t been able to reach you.”
“Oh, that’s wonderful!” Hermione replied, pitching her voice to sound relieved and happy. “And don’t worry about it. School has been terribly busy lately, I haven’t had much time to come out.” She paused, then added a touch of calculated vulnerability. “You’re not mad at me, are you, Sister Natasha?”
On the other end of the line, Natasha’s heart gave a slight pang of guilt. “Mad? Of course not,” she said, her voice softening. “How could I be? I was just worried. I’ve missed you. When are you going to come visit me at headquarters again?”
After a few more minutes of pleasantries, they hung up. Natasha sighed. The girl was a ghost. Despite their seemingly warm relationship, she knew next to nothing about Hermione’s actual life. She was a little fox, smart and elusive, and until they earned her absolute trust—the kind she seemed to reserve for the mysterious “Dumbledore”—she would keep them at arm’s length.
Hermione, on the other hand, scoffed as she ended the call. Missed me. Right. More likely Fury was getting impatient for more intel. With a quiet, nonverbal charm, she scanned the device. A faint, almost imperceptible magical haze revealed a tiny, sophisticated listening device embedded deep within the phone’s casing. Honestly, she thought, rolling her eyes. A spy is always a spy. It didn’t matter. Their Muggle technology was completely useless across dimensional barriers.
She tucked the S.H.I.E.L.D. phone away and pulled out a second, much more normal-looking smartphone. The moment it powered on, it lit up with dozens of notifications. A quick glance showed they were almost all from one person. She found the single contact in the address book and dialed. This phone wasn’t a tool of espionage. It was a gift, secretly slipped to her by Pepper Potts.
“Sister Pepper! I’m back!” she chirped, her voice genuinely bright this time.
“Little Hermione!” Pepper’s voice on the other end was a rush of pure, unadulterated relief. “Oh, thank God! I couldn’t reach you, I was so worried. I called S.H.I.E.L.D., but they were so tight-lipped, they just told me not to worry. How can I not worry? You’re just a child, even if you do have…” she trailed off, still not quite able to say the word ‘magic’.
A real, honest-to-goodness warmth spread through Hermione’s chest. Natasha’s affection was a professional tool, a means to an end. She understood it, but she couldn’t truly accept it. Pepper’s concern, however, was pure. It was real.
“I’m fine, really,” Hermione said, her voice softening. “I was back at Hogwarts. School has been insane. Quidditch practice is brutal.”
“Hogwarts?” Pepper asked, confused. “What’s that? And where do you even go to school? I looked through the enrollment records for every private school in the New York area and couldn’t find your name…”
Hermione’s internal smile turned into a scowl. Nick Fury, you manipulative bastard. He hadn’t told Pepper a single thing, deliberately keeping his assets compartmentalized, leaving this kind, worried woman completely in the dark.
“It’s… a long story,” Hermione said. “I’ll explain when I see you. Where are you now?”
“I’m at the office. Where are you? I’ll send a car right now.”
Hermione scratched her head. “I’m not actually sure. But don’t worry about the car. I’ll come to you. Just… stay on the line.”
With that, she hung up, summoned her Nimbus 2000, and cast a Disillusionment Charm over herself. She kicked off from the grimy alley floor and soared into the sky. The feeling was pure, unadulterated freedom. She weaved through the steel and glass canyons of Manhattan, an invisible phantom on a magical broomstick, the city lights a sprawling galaxy of jewels below her.
High up in Stark Tower, in the vast, minimalist CEO’s office, Pepper Potts held her phone, a worried frown on her face. “Hermione? Hermione, are you there?” All she could hear was a loud, rushing sound, like wind whistling past an open microphone.
Just as she was about to hang up, she heard a faint tap… tap… tap sound from behind her. She froze. It sounded like someone was knocking on the window. But that was impossible. She was dozens of stories up, the only thing behind her the endless, empty sky.
She turned slowly. And her heart stopped.
Floating outside the floor-to-ceiling window, sitting calmly sideways on a broomstick, was a small, petite figure in a black robe. When the figure saw her, it broke into a wide, brilliant smile and waved. On her pretty face, her eyes were curved into happy little crescents, her smile revealing two perfect dimples. She was, in that impossible moment, the most adorable thing Pepper had ever seen.
“Little Hermione!” Pepper gasped, covering her mouth with her hands. She could see Hermione’s mouth moving, the faint sound of her voice barely audible through the thick, reinforced glass.
Suddenly, a strong gust of wind caught the broom. It bucked violently, and Hermione lost her balance, tipping sideways and falling off with a small, surprised yelp.
“AHHH!” Pepper screamed, pure terror seizing her.
Before she could even process what had happened, Hermione shot back into view, this time hanging upside down, her calves hooked securely around the broom handle, a slightly sheepish grin on her face. She pointed at herself, then gestured emphatically toward the inside of the office.
Pepper finally understood. She rushed to the window and fumbled with the locks, her hands shaking. As soon as it was open, Hermione expertly flipped herself back onto the broom and flew into the office with a smooth, graceful movement, landing softly on the plush carpet.
Before Hermione could even say a word, Pepper had rushed forward and enveloped her in a tight, fierce hug. “You crazy, reckless child!” Pepper scolded, her voice thick with a fear she couldn’t conceal. “You could have been killed! What were you thinking, doing something so dangerous!”
Dangerous? Hermione thought, genuinely confused. She and the other Beaters did far more reckless stunts during Quidditch practice every single day. But seeing the real, terrified relief in Pepper’s eyes, she knew better than to argue. She just relaxed into the hug and offered a soft, placating:
“Oh.”
