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"The future is only fixed when the prediction has little to no correlation with the actions of those who hear it," Hermione explained, her voice taking on the weighty, solemn tone of an ancient oracle. "The moment a future is known by those who can influence it, that future begins to change."
The three S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and the CEO of Stark Industries stood in the silent, sunlit office, processing the profound, paradoxical warning. They were intelligence operatives and strategic thinkers; they understood the concept instantly. The observer effect, on a cosmic scale.
"So we do nothing," Fury concluded, his mind already mapping out the new, frustratingly passive strategy. "We proceed with the conventional search and rescue protocols for Mr. Stark. We don't allocate any unusual resources, but we don't slack off, either. We act as if this conversation never happened."
"And in doing so," Coulson added, picking up the thread, "we allow the original chain of events to unfold, leading to the successful rescue we witnessed in the vision."
"Bingo," Hermione said, a pleased, 'you're-a-good-student' look on her face that made Fury's eye twitch.
"But how long do we have to wait?" Pepper asked, her voice tight with anxiety. The logical part of her understood, but the emotional part, the part that was screaming with worry for Tony, found the idea of just waiting unbearable. To be shown a miracle and then be told to do nothing was a special kind of torture.
"Hmm," Hermione mused, pretending to think. "With my current magical reserves, the furthest I can see is about one month. The scene at the airport… it will happen within a month. I'm sure of it."
A collective, quiet sigh of relief went through the room. A month. They could wait a month.
Hermione was relieved as well. Not because her magic was real, but because her deception had been so thoroughly accepted. She had no desire to cause a butterfly effect that could derail the entire MCU timeline. Her foreknowledge of this world was one of her greatest assets, a roadmap through the coming chaos. Until she was powerful enough to weather any storm, she had no intention of changing the plot. Besides, she had her own plans for Tony Stark, and they required him to become Iron Man, right on schedule.
Just as the tension in the room began to ease, Hermione's eyes rolled back in her head. "Ouch!" she cried out, a sharp, sudden gasp of pain. She stumbled, clutching her head, her face contorted in agony.
"Hermione!" Natasha and Pepper rushed forward simultaneously, supporting the small, staggering girl before she could fall.
Hermione's face was chalk-white, her body trembling, and a sheen of cold sweat had broken out on her forehead. "The backlash…" she managed to gasp out, her voice thin and reedy. "Peeking at the threads of fate… it's not without a price."
The three agents exchanged a look of dawning horror. The prophecy… it physically harms her? In their focus on the strategic value of her gift, they had never considered the cost to the giver. A wave of guilt washed over them.
"Prophecy is a forbidden branch of magic for a reason," Hermione explained, her words punctuated by pained breaths. "The strain on one's magical core is immense, but the real danger is to the soul. That's why… in the entire history of the wizarding world… there have only ever been a handful of true Seers." She managed a weak, but undeniably proud, smile.
Despite the gravity of the situation, the three adults felt a collective, helpless sigh in their hearts. She's still showing off, even now. The sheer, indomitable childishness of it, even in the midst of her suffering, was both exasperating and deeply endearing.
The sight of the small, brilliant, and powerful girl looking so pale and weak was too much for Natasha and Pepper. Their professional and maternal instincts roared to life. Pepper, in particular, was consumed with a fresh wave of guilt. This is my fault, she thought, her heart aching. I pushed her. For Tony. That idiot… getting himself kidnapped and making this sweet, brave child suffer. When he got back, she was going to make him thank Hermione personally, and then she was going to let Hermione hit him. Hard.
Fury watched, his mind a whirlwind of calculation. His first, cynical reaction was to suspect a scam. But then he looked closer. The girl's pallor, the genuine pain in her eyes, the way she was trembling… it was too perfect a performance. And besides, she was just a child. How could she possibly be that cunning?
"Miss Granger," he said, his voice gruff but sincere. "You were injured in the service of S.H.I.E.L.D. We are in your debt. If there is anything you require, anything at all, you have but to ask. We will do everything in our power to provide it."
Hermione's eyes, which had been squeezed shut in pain, fluttered open. A hopeful, almost desperate light shone within them. "Really?" she whispered. "Anything?"
A sudden, terrible feeling of foreboding washed over Nick Fury.
"I need a dragon's heartstring," she began, counting on her fingers. "A few phoenix feathers, a vial of fresh unicorn blood, some acromantula venom for my potions…"
Fraud! It was a fraud! Fury screamed internally.
"Wait, wait, hold on!" he said quickly, holding up a hand. "Dragons? Phoenixes? Miss Granger, those… those are creatures of myth. We can't possibly…"
Hermione's hopeful expression crumpled into one of profound, heart-wrenching disappointment. "Oh," she said, her voice small and sad.
That pitiful look was a direct hit to Pepper's already sensitive heart. "She's in this state because she was helping us," she said, turning on Fury with a fierce, protective glare. "And you can't even fulfill one little wish for her?"
Little wish? Fury thought, his one eye twitching. Did you hear the shopping list? She's asking for a zoo of mythical beasts! But he knew there was no reasoning with Pepper in this state. He was outmaneuvered.
"My apologies, Miss Granger," he said with a heavy sigh. "Magical items of that nature are beyond our capabilities. For now. But how about this? Any non-magical item you require, anything that exists on this Earth, S.H.I.E.L.D. will procure for you. No questions asked."
A slow, triumphant smile blossomed in Hermione's heart. Checkmate. She now had the logistical and material support of the most powerful intelligence agency on the planet, all on their dime. They were hooked. Once you get a taste of the convenience and power of magic, you can never go back.
After pretending to recover for another moment, she straightened up, the pained expression vanishing from her face. "Well, I should be going." A brand new, polished Nimbus 2000 materialized out of thin air in her hand.
Amidst four pairs of shocked, speechless eyes, she sat sideways on the broom, picked up her new crystal ball from the desk, and floated serenely toward the open window.
"You… you can fly?!" Fury finally managed to stammer, his mind officially blown for the tenth time that day.
Hermione paused at the window and looked back at him as if he were an idiot. "Can you walk?" she asked.
The spymaster nodded dumbly.
"Then why," she said with a withering sigh, "would you think a wizard can't fly?"
Before he could answer, she gave a cheerful wave. "Bye, Sister Pepper! Bye, Sister Natasha!"
And with that, she shot out of the window and into the open sky, the broom quickly becoming a small, distant dot before vanishing from sight.
After a long, stunned silence, Pepper and Natasha looked at each other. Natasha's gaze was thoughtful as she looked Pepper up and down. The woman was powerful, charismatic, and clearly besotted with their little wizard. An inexplicable, entirely unprofessional sense of crisis began to bubble up inside her.
Little Hermione has always had a soft spot for pretty sisters, Natasha thought, a strange, proprietary feeling rising in her chest. I can't let this one steal her.
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