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In the secure comm channel, Tony Stark's voice was filled with exaggerated, high-pitched indignation. "I'm underwater, Phil! On my big day! The launch of the Stark Tower clean energy project! You think I have time for your cloak-and-dagger bullsh—?"
"Mr. Stark," Coulson cut him off, his voice flat. "The Tesseract is missing. Loki is alive. It's an extinction-level threat, and you are currently in a submersible. Now, are you going to argue with me, or are you going to solve the problem?"
A loud, wet SPLOOSH came over the line as Tony, leaving his armor to fly on autopilot, shot himself out of the water like a firework.
Hermione, meanwhile, was focused on the far more immediate issue: the one-eyed man had lied to her.
"He's alive?" Hermione demanded, her voice cold with a strategic anger. "Loki? I told you he was a problem. And you deliberately withheld the existence of the Tesseract from me. Do you think you're the only one who plays games, Fury?"
Coulson, catching the edge in her voice, knew he had to explain the situation fast. "He is alive, Miss Wizard. And he's using a Scepter. A golden one, with a blue gem."
Hermione's face, which had been set in a cynical mask, suddenly changed. Her eyes narrowed, the casual anger vanishing, replaced by a terrifying, absolute focus. "The Scepter," she whispered. "The blue gem… the Mind Stone."
The Tesseract was a cosmic energy source. The Scepter was a cosmic weapon. The problem had just escalated from a regional security issue to a universal threat.
She made a decision. "I will help you," she said, her voice now calm, dominant, and utterly transactional. "But the price just went up. S.H.I.E.L.D. will pay me three times the original agreed-upon fee in alchemical materials. And I want that Scepter. It is a necessary countermeasure."
Coulson didn't argue. He immediately patched her through to Fury. The Director, hearing the sheer gravity in her tone, agreed without a single word of negotiation. He knew, as she did, that they were now operating in a realm where money and pride were irrelevant.
Hours later, the S.H.I.E.L.D. Helicarrier was a sight of quiet, humming chaos. The massive command center was bathed in the cold light of countless monitors. Hermione sat alone, cross-legged on a swivel chair, eating an apple, observing the controlled frenzy around her.
Maria Hill, the Deputy Director, walked past, her face etched with the stress of coordinating the global response to the crisis. She paused, her intelligent, skeptical gaze fixed on the small girl.
Hermione broke off a piece of a foil-wrapped magical treat she'd brought from Hogwarts and held it out. "Here," she offered with a sweet smile. "Chocolate Frog. Good for stress."
Hill was taken aback. She hesitantly accepted the package. "Thank you, Miss Granger."
"Be careful," Hermione warned. "It might try to jump away."
Hill, thinking it was a joke, tore open the wrapper. WHOOSH! The chocolate frog leaped onto the main console, causing a startled technician to yelp and spill his coffee. Hill, stunned, quickly snatched the struggling, flapping confection from the wires.
Hermione burst into a soft laugh. "I told you. It's for happiness. It works by releasing concentrated joy into your system. Also, it's delicious."
Hill, recovering, threw the chocolate into her mouth. The taste was rich and complex, and a sudden, unexpected wave of calm and genuine amusement washed over her. The grinding anxiety of the Tesseract crisis momentarily receded. "That is… excellent," she admitted.
Just then, the main doors opened, and the first of the Avengers were led in by Natasha Romanoff. The entrance was a study in contrasts. Steve Rogers, Captain America, looked overwhelmed, his straight-backed military posture struggling to cope with the sheer, high-tech absurdity of the Helicarrier. He walked straight to the Director.
"Sir," Steve said stiffly. "I owe you ten dollars." He pulled a ten-dollar bill from his pocket. "I bet Agent Coulson I wouldn't be surprised by anything I saw." He glanced around the massive, flying aircraft carrier. "I was wrong."
Fury took the money with a dry smirk. "How about we bet another twenty, Captain?" he asked. "I bet you see something even more surprising before the end of the day."
Steve frowned, looking around the control center. He had seen the invisible jet. What could possibly top that?
His eyes followed Fury's gaze. They landed on Hermione, the small girl in a black robe, sitting casually in a swivel chair, crunching an apple.
Behind him, Dr. Bruce Banner, who had been trying to shrink into the shadows, caught sight of Hermione. His face, already pale, went completely white. The gentle, quiet scientist suddenly recoiled two full steps, his eyes wide with a look of pure, soul-deep terror.
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He had just remembered the slug curse, the pantsing, and the terrifying, cold indifference of the little witch.
"It's the worst of all worlds, isn't it, Bruce?" Tony Stark muttered, walking past his shell-shocked friend. "The magic is real, and she's brought a pet monster." He looked at Hermione with a frustrated, bickering snarl. "Alright, little witch. What did you do with the rest of my day?"