So I've officially started a rotation between my four crossovers (why, oh why did I launch four at once?) so you should expect an update every two months or so…I've been busy at work lately (the place I currently work at kept me longer because an employee died and since I know how to do part of his work…RIP Alain).
On a more cheerful note, here is the next chapter :)
I promised a Sirius cameo…well it'll be more an allusion to him than a true cameo. But he will show up next chapter, promise! ^^
Thanks to:
Guest: Loki/Hermione is not happening, sorry…
Guest 2
Guest 3
Guest 4: I haven't given much thought about Hermione/Bruce…not too big on the idea though. thank you for the suggestion anyway :)
Jessica: too true. He'll probably pop up around somewhere, I like Pietro's character :)
Guest: 5: NOT HELPING HERE MDR xDD
Greywizard: I try to tackle weird angles or come up with original stuff I would have enjoyed
Guest 6: Thank you :D
Anonymous Guest: Haha, I honestly didn't see that one coming :D And no worries, I love reviews! (not insulting ones though…)
Tess: I will, don't worry ^^ Thanks :)
And many thanks to Blue for beta-ing!
The Uncle From America
9
November 10th
Dear Hermione,
That's my girl! When I told Tasha, she was a bit smug (I think she's already planning your next training session. Be brave kid). Things got a bit tense during the assignment and I didn't get enough time to bring you a souvenir, so the bookmark is from Tasha. The ideogram means 'strength' (I googled it).
I'm sorry about Harry. I think it's a good thing you're teaching him self-defense, you never know when it can come in handy. Whatever you're doing to help him, trust me, he will never forget (even if he gets grumpy and angry about it).
I have to go, but keep me posted.
Clint
Hermione winced at the mention of Natasha planning something. Casual training was hard enough –and she was seriously getting lazy lately –and she really needed to fall back into the routine of exercises Natasha gave her if she didn't want to suffer once she returned. She opened the second letter that had arrived a couple days before, but hadn't yet the time to read.
November 8th
Sorry Brita,
Right now is the great period of exams. We were going crazy studying and Don is helping us with homework. We'll write a longer letter later. In the meantime, we squeezed in some time for a group picture. Don's wearing his family's traditional cloths. Believe it or not, he's the youngest from an old Pureblood family and has to go through some stupid ceremony of recognition. I like his costume though. It would look great at Mardi Gras according to Paint.
TTYL!
Fish and the Melting Pot
PS: Gretel thinks Harry looks cute.
Hermione smiled slightly and glanced at the picture. It was animated, of course, like all wizards photos. They were all wearing the same uniform, black pants and blue shirt for Paint and Fish, along with a logo of their school. Both were making funny faces as usual. Gretel wore black pants instead of a skirt (apparently she had managed to avoid the girls-wear-skirts rule) with a purple top, and was glaring at the two younger boys. Don was there too, smiling and waving at her. His seemingly traditional costume was green and silver with heavy red jewelry wrapped around his neck and torso. A weird hat in a banana shape with large borders fell over his ears. Hermione smiled back at them, realizing that she missed them more than she expected.
Paint and Fish's incessant jokes and attempts at pranks, Gretel's unexpected devil-may-care attitude and Don's endless patience. She just hoped their barely standing friendship would be enough to see them unchanged once she returned.
"Hermione!"
She raised her eyes and met the panicking ones of Ginny. The girl was red and panting, and while Hermione hadn't said more than a couple words to her since the beginning of the school year, she got curious enough to hear what the younger girl had to say.
"Harry and Ron are fighting downstairs."
Hermione didn't need any more words and, after stashing the letters in her pocket (she was so not leaving them in the open for everyone to see), ran to the Common Room.
A huge assembly of students was gathered around what were obviously two people who were exchanging more than words. Had it been any other occasion, Hermione knew the fight would have been ended a long time before it would have started. Unfortunately, Harry was the antithesis of Gryffindor's hero right now. Students still hadn't swallowed the pill of him being selected for the Triwizard Tournamentand believed even less that he was innocent.
Still, the other students parted for her as she walked towards the center of the commotion. Harry and Ron were indeed physically fighting, wands on the ground, tearing at clothes and hitting each other. Harry was obviously stronger, but Ron had five older brothers, among whom he must have fought, at least once or twice. Hermione didn't know what upset her most; that Harry and Ron had come to blows or that no-one was trying to separate them. So she decided to step in. She grabbed the closest boy by the collar –who happened to be Harry- pulled him back, and tripped Ron who was coming forward. And then she stood in the middle.
"What. Is. Going. On?" she asked, emphasizing every syllable and glaring at the assembly. "How come the Prefects haven't intervened yet?"
The students exchanged embarrassed glances and most left the scene in a hurry. Harry stood up, turned around and left the room, clothes in disarray and a black eye on his face. Ron slowly stood to his feet, holding his ribs, mouth cut at the lips.
"Maybe if he stopped showing off, things would be better." Ron snarled.
Hermione glowered at him.
"Maybe if you stopped being a prat and started acting your age, you would get over your pathetic jealousy." She shot back.
Seeing that no-one was likely to move, she turned around and ran out of the common room. Spending a lot of time with Harry had given her an unexpected insight on where to look for him when he ran away. This time, she knew he needed to isolate himself from others, but wouldn't leave the castle. She found him in an empty classroom near Dumbledore's office, sitting on a table, feet set on a chair. He tensed at her approach but didn't ask her to leave. Hermione closed the door behind and came to sit next to him.
"You're not going to chide me for dirtying a chair?" he said, shifting his shoe on the wooden support. Hermione ignored his tone and asked:
"What happened this time?"
He shrugged and kept glaring at his feet. Hermione was notto be deterred.
"I didn't start teaching you how to fight so you could beat your classmates," she went on. "So, what did Ron say that pissed you off so much?"
"I'm getting tired of them," he spat angrily. "One day, they'll all support me, the other, they'll all turn their back. Ron was just making some stupid remark and staring at me while saying it, and I…I just blew up."
Hermione nodded, encouraging him to keep going on, though Harry's expression was still as hard as stone and he glared at the floor.
"He's always been so jealous, you know," he went on quietly. "I thought I made a real friend with him, but all he can see is the fame and the glory. He doesn't know what it's like…" Harry breathed in slowly. "Meditation helps, but I feel so angry all the time….Ron said I probably cheated my way in by paying an older student to put my name in the Goblet of Fire. Not asked, but paid. Like, nobody would put my name if I didn't ask them to." He snorted: "Not that I'd even want them to. I've been targeted my first and second year. Third year doesn't count, not really. So why would I be stupid enough to put my own name in that thing?"
Hermione put a hand on his arm and squeezed it gently. Harry sounded tired. He offered her a grateful, weary smile, for standing by his side even though she had been encouraged to leave him behind ('he needs some space', Lavender had said. Hermione had given her the cold shoulder for days.)
She decided to change subject and tackle one that had been set aside long enough.
"Did you get news from Sirius?" she asked. Harry's expression sobered.
"He…he said he's coming to Hogsmeade. He wants to meet at our next outing."
Hermione frowned.
"That's…soon."
"Next weekend," Harry replied darkly. "I don't want to put him in danger again," he sighed, running a hand through his messy hair. He glanced at her sideways. "You'll come to see him with me, right?"
Hermione rolled her eyes.
"Of course silly." She hesitated, remembering momentarily Maria Hill's deal. "Harry, I…I didn't tell you everything, about my stay with my uncle." Harry stared at her with curiosity. "They asked me about Sirius. I told them I believed he was innocent, and that I didn't know where he was. Hill –my uncle's boss –told me…she told me Sirius had a better chance asking for a trial –out of Britain. We would testify, offer our memories and he would be submitted to Veritaserum. I don't know if she was sincere," she added quickly. "But I promised I'd mention it to him."
"And they would give him a trial?"
"Sirius could accuse the Ministry of Magic itself for slander and false accusation. He could do it from the outside, as a political refuge. It makes sense, if you think of it," she added absentmindedly. "The best defense is offense after all."
Harry frowned, like each time he faced a new situation and was reflecting over which actions to take. She had mostly seen that face in class, over a miscast spell or one of Professor Flitwick's anecdotes.
"Do you trust that woman?" he asked eventually. Hermione didn't know whether she should encourage or not the faint hop she saw in his eyes.
"I don't know," she replied honestly. "But Clint said that if Sirius can convince her, she'll help him. I trust my uncle not to lie about that."
TUFA
Clint sat in Maria's office alone, staring at the wall. He usually hated coming here for any reason, and even more lately after the resounding defeat she put him through with magic. A one-on-one against Hermione had been easy; a one-on-one against Maria had been like fighting Natasha with unlimited trick bullets. He still had the burns of an ill-controlled fire-thing spell to prove it.
"What is it about this time?" he asked the woman sitting across the desk. Clint felt proud his feelings towards her hadn't changed. Yes, she was a hell lot more powerful and could probably take the entire Helicarrier with a flick of her wrist if she put her mind into it, but he had known her far too long to start doubting her loyalties. It did make him even more wary of magic though.
"We made progress on the Nirven case." She replied evenly, as if this was a banal meeting –which it was, after all. "I thought you might want to know more about it."
"The only thing that could have interested me in that case was Barney," Clint replied dryly. "I'm not interested in knowing what a wannabe ring of drug dealers are doing."
The Deputy Director raised an eyebrow.
"I would still recommend you read the last page."
As he figured she wouldn't budge until he did what she asked, Clint picked up the file and complied. The first lines were not interesting in the least, but as he read more and more of the report…He suddenly lifted his head and stared intensely at Maria.
"What…Is that what I think it is?"
Maria crossed her arms and leaned back in her seat.
"There is a faint possibility that Bernard Granger faked his death. The corpse in the morgue wasn't properly identified. Recent inspections showed that it might have not been his body at all. His dental records were stolen and found again six months ago. They could have been replaced then."
Clint felt the blood leave his face. He wasn't sure whether it was out of surprise or anger. Perhaps not surprise, Barney was sneaky, he would have known how to throw the police off his scent. Anger, definitively, but on Hermione's behalf, that he had left herbehind. Although Clint could understand his motivations, especially if he wanted to keep his daughter out of his situation, it still didn't excuse the fact he had left her alone. A thought struck him:
"What about his wife? Is she…"
Maria shook her head.
"If definitively was her body. SHIELD agents checked thrice after doubting Granger's."
Clint sighed and rubbed his hand over his face.
"How am I going to tell Hermione?"
Maria gave him a look of sympathy.
"It's up to you whether to tell her at all," she said. "But I wish you luck."
When he returned to his apartment, Natasha was watching Cop Dogs on TV. He let himself all but fall back on the couch, resting his head on her thighs. Natasha ran her hand in his hair. He closed his eyes.
"I take it didn't go smoothly?"
"Barney might be alive," he replied without moving. She didn't stop petting him.
"Okay."
"You don't sound surprised." He remarked.
"You Bartons must have common genes with cockroaches, you survive nearly anything. From what I heard of him, dying in a car crash could have been embarrassing."
"I guess so." Clint opened his eyes again and flickered to her face. He needed a change of subject. "I heard you're off babysitting soon?" Natasha made a sound of distaste, so he went on cheerfully: "Anthony Stark, playboy billionaire extraordinaire aka Iron Man. That sounds fun. You'll get to be one of the privileged for a while."
Natasha glared at him.
"You mean stand and smile while rich pigs daydream of me naked?"
"And they'll never get that privilege," Clint replied, reaching for her cheek. She sighed and leaned into it, closing her eyes in turn. The moment was shattered when a small 'taptap' was heard against the window. A raccoon was standing on the top window above their kitchen table, a letter in his paw. Clint reluctantly left the couch and opened it, finally getting used to the weird wizard method of mailing. The animal ignored his hand and threw its prize in the living room before darting away.
"O-kay," Clint said, bending forwards to pick up said letter and started to read.
November 15th
Clint,
Thank you for the bookmark; it's been put to good use. Is there any way you can tell Natasha to ease up on the training? We don't exactly have a facility here and I've had enough eyes staring at me weirdly when I'm off for a jog. Harry is very depressed lately and the others always picking on him does not make the situation easier to deal with. I'm trying to support him the best I can though.
On a lighter note, I've got all A's on my latest essays and homework. Nothing much is happening here otherwise…
Until next time!
Love,
Hermione
She had also added a postscript in hasty handwriting about asking Maria for advice for a spell…He froze. Read and reread the words again and again. It took him a full minute to realize Natasha had been calling his name.
"Clint, I swear to god-"
He stared at her in disbelief, the letter nearly dropping off his hand.
"Fucking DRAGONS?"
Till next time :P
