Chapter Nine

The morning of their second day in the house, Hermione seemed to be in a much better state. While she still had some moments when she would get lost in her mind, she was much more aware of things going on around her. She was so grateful for Luna. Without her, she wasn't sure where she would be or even if she would be functioning at all. Merlin knew that Ron and Harry wouldn't have done half the things for her that Luna had.

Luna's beautiful bright eyes were now clouded and troubled. Hermione knew she was still dealing with her experience in the cellar at Malfoy Manor, and the death of her father. But Luna pushed all that aside as best she could and helped Hermione through the roughest patches of her own trauma.

Today was a memorial for all those they had lost. Kingsley, who had been named interim Minister for Magic (pending an election); would be addressing the public too.

Hermione's hands trembled as she picked up her cup of tea. Luna was getting herself ready, then she would help Hermione change the bandage on her arm, and help her dress. Hermione was still dealing with tremors from her exposure to the Cruciatus curse. Some days were worse than others. Today was a rough day.

All throughout the day, Hermione had to rely on someone else's strength and support. She stood between her friends, Harry's arms encircling her, offering comfort and security. She knew Harry would never let her fall, no matter how much her legs wanted to fail her today.

Hermione knew she needed to see a Healer. She was very malnourished, exhausted, and her arm didn't appear to be healing much at all. Her nerves had taken a hard hit and would sometimes cause her muscles to spasm painfully. Luna had taken the liberty of making an appointment for the both of them with St Mungo's. Somehow she had been able to secure them both appointments tomorrow. Though Hermione was sure it was the use of her name that had secured an available appointment.

Going into the wizarding world at all was a nightmare. It seemed everyone wanted a piece of the Golden Trio. The only reason Hermione had any reprieve from the press was because no one knew where her home in muggle London was. No one connected Stark and Granger. So few knew her legal name, only Harry and Luna knew. Hermione had planned to tell Ronald, but she saw how he envied those who had more than him. He was often jealous that Harry had money. Harry, who would have given every galleon he had just to have a family like Ron's. No, she couldn't tell him about her family.

After the memorial, Luna and Hermione went home. Hermione was exhausted and with a little encouragement from Luna, she laid down for a nap. The restless nights, when she was plagued by nightmares, did not help her recovery.

Hermione thought about how nice it was to have someone watching over her. Someone taking care of her, instead of the other way around. Outside of her family, she had to take care of everyone else. She was the one they went to for help and support. She always had to be the strong one. She just couldn't do that right now.

She drifted off thinking about her Papa. That morning, Luna had found Hermione's magi-tech device and plugged it in. Once she was rested, she would try to contact him. Luna had sent a letter, but the owl would take some time to reach him. Hermione had seen a muggle newspaper, so she knew her father had returned after his ordeal and was now Iron Man, the equivalent of a muggle superhero. He and several others had fought a battle with an Asgardian Prince. If the reports were accurate, she had come perilously close to losing her Papa. It looked like both of them had some explaining to do, she thought, as sleep claimed her. .

XXXX

Upon being plugged in and charged, J.J had connected to the home base and taken assessments of the location and persons in the home. He then reported back to Jarvis like he was designed to do, though he had been unable to do so for many months. He sent a video of the girls in the home with a date and time.

XXXX

Tony was sitting at a desk in his lab. He was attempting to reassemble part of a project he had been working on, but mostly he was hiding from Happy and Pepper.

Pepper was upset that Tony had revealed the secret of magic to Clint. He knew she was worried about how bad it would be if the information found its way into S.H.I.E.L.D's hands. But his instincts had told him that he could trust Clint. And he chose to listen to his instincts.

Happy was just mad that Tony had denied his request to go with Clint on his search. He could understand how they both felt. But if it brought Hermione home, then it was all worth it. Besides, there was no way in hell he would allow S.H.I.E.L.D to find out about Hermione's magic. Fury would either try to use her for his own purposes or have her declared a threat to National Security. Fury would only find out about Hermione over Tony's dead body, he promised himself.

Jarvis interrupted his hiding.

"Sir, J.J has just checked in. It would appear that Miss Stark is in the London home with Miss Lovegood."

Tony jumped up, knocking the chair over in his haste. "Show me!"

His heart raced. If this was some kind of cruel trick, he didn't know how he would handle it. A video popped up on the screen of Luna and a woman who could only be his daughter.

Tears streamed down his face as he traced every inch of her face with his eyes. She was so thin and pale. She was also sporting a large white bandage on her arm and seemed to be shaking. He couldn't be certain, but he thought he could see a few scars. The most alarming of which was across her throat. Pulling himself together, he asked Jarvis who else was in the Tower. It was a lucky break that the only other person in the tower, other than the family, was Bruce. As he was a full time resident, Tony felt that he should be informed too. He issued an order to have them meet in the family room, before watching the video once more. Then he had Jarvis contact Clint.

"Stark. Any news on your end?" Clint asked.

"Yes," his voice broke. "She's at our home in London. Jarvis can send you the directions."

Clint nodded, even though Tony couldn't see it. "That's great news. I'll head over there as soon as I get the directions."

"Barton?"

"Yeah Stark?"

"Bring her home as soon as you can." Tony pleaded.

"Absolutely. First plane I can get her on. I'll keep you updated." Clint promised.

XXXX

Clint stood outside the London home that belonged to Tony Stark. Inside was Stark's daughter. He reminded himself to be gentle, that after what she had been through, she was likely to be skittish. He raised his hand to knock, when the door opened. In the entryway stood a petite blonde who had her head tilted to the side as she assessed him. Somehow he felt as though she knew him more intimately than even S.H.I.E.L.D did. And S.H.I.E.L.D knew everything about their agents. It was a bit unnerving.

"I thought if you were going to stand there for a long time, trying to make a decision, that I could help you make it," she said, tucking a curly strand back into the braid that hung over her shoulder. Was that a radish she was wearing as an earring?

He blinked at her for several seconds before clearing his throat. "Yes. I'm here on behalf of Tony Stark, to locate and escort his daughter back to her home in New York."

The girl smiled, "Of course you are. But I'm afraid I can't allow you to enter until you answer the security question."

Security question? Stark hadn't mentioned anything about a security question. Rubbing the back of his neck nervously, Clint reluctantly agreed.

"Great! What is the average wing speed velocity of the Blibbering Humdinger?"

Clint looked baffled. Then he remembered an old Monty Python film and he replied in the only way he could think of.

Trying to keep a straight face, he asked, "African or European?"

Luna paused, her eyes blinking rapidly as she considered his answer, "That's an interesting point, I hadn't considered that...do you think that the distinctions between the two make a terrible difference? Why have I never thought about this before?" she mused. "Do you like tea?" she added.

Frowning, Clint tried to follow along with her thought process. "What? Tea?" he stammered.

He followed her into the house, still trying to comprehend how they had even landed on the subject of tea.

"It will be just you and I for tea, I'm afraid," the girl said apologetically. "Hermione is resting. Have you ever had tea in the proper wizarding tradition? No? Don't worry, I will show you exactly what to do."

Somehow he ended up sitting in a chair, a dainty tea cup in front of him. Luna used her wand to float a tea service to the table.

"Now, when partaking of Wizarding Tea, there are a few steps to follow. Firstly, it is only proper for the gentleman to assist the ladies with their chairs, before seating himself."

Clint nodded. It wasn't anything strange. Just the polite thing to do after all. He watched as Luna examined the sugar bowl. "Before offering tea to your guests, you should always check the sugar bowl for Nargles. They like the sweetness you see."

"Of course." Clint nodded. That was certainly odd. He didn't know what a Nargle was but he was sure he would know if there was something in the bowl other than sugar.

"When serving the tea, be sure to strain for gulping plymplies. No one wants one of those in their tea." Luna strained some tea into their cups before setting the teapot down and reaching for an odd onion shaped vegetable.

"Would you like a gurdyroot to ward them off? One can never be too careful." Luna said seriously.

Clint reached out a hand for it, murmuring his thanks. He placed it beside his plate, which held several small cookies. Right before his eyes one of the cookies vanished. He blinked several times.

He missed Luna stowing her wand away after she had vanished the cookie.

"Oh, rotten luck. You should always watch your sweets. Nargles are tricky buggers. They'll rob you blind before you can blink," she said slyly.

Nodding absently as she continued to talk, Clint's eyes stayed laser focused on his remaining cookies. No way was he losing another one to those pesky thieves. He could hardly focus on what she was saying. He still couldn't figure out how one had gotten past him.

They called him Hawkeye for a reason, but somehow he had completely missed the thievery. It was totally unacceptable. A loud scream filled the room. Startled, he dropped the tea cup with a crash.

Luna sighed. She waved her wand and the entire table's contents made their way to the kitchen. "Right on time," she murmured sadly.

Clint's hand went to his back, automatically reaching for his concealed weapons, but Luna stayed his arm. "It's just Hermione," she explained. "The nightmares are awful, poor dear."

She excused herself and headed to a room down the hall. Clint assumed it was Hermione's room. He could hear Luna speaking soothingly to her. A short while later. she returned.

A young woman was clutching Luna's arm as she steadied her. He couldn't help but notice how pale and drawn she was as Luna introduced the two. Hermione's hand shook as she extended it to shake his.

"It's a pleasure to meet you, Miss Stark. Your father is most anxious to be reunited with you," Clint said earnestly.

A small, soft smile curved her lips at the mention of her father. She sat in the seat across from him and Clint couldn't help but assess her. She was still the same girl from the pictures at Stark Tower, but it was as if the light had gone out from her lovely eyes, now marred by dark rings from lack of sleep. Her hair escaped the ponytail she had it tied in and hung limply..

Whatever she had been doing while she had been gone, eating had clearly not been a priority, and it had taken its toll. Small scars marred her arms, one of which was covered in a bloody looking bandage. Clint couldn't help but think that the scars did nothing to detract from her natural beauty. And she was beautiful, even in the state she was currently in. Clint knew when she recovered she would be quite enchanting.

He answered the questions she had about her family. and briefly explained about Loki. The conversation turned to planning for a return to the States. Luna refused to be left behind. She said as long as she was needed, she would stay.

A short walk around the garden tired Hermione out. She explained that she was scheduled to see a Healer in the morning. Clint nodded silently, watching her with a pained expression..

Later that evening, he still hadn't spoken much. He was content to just sit quietly watching Hermione read, while Luna prepared dinner. He attempted to read the book she had offered him, and while it was interesting, he couldn't seem to stop his gaze from going back to her. This was the most relaxed he had seen her. The shakes that plagued her earlier seemed to have ceased.

After dinner, Hermione went to have a shower. She returned to the living room; bandages and a jar of salve floating in her wake. Luna met her and raised the long sleeve of the shirt Hermione wore. To the average observer, it looked as if Clint had not taken his eyes off Hermione's face. Her sad eyes had met his, looking for any reaction or judgement from him. He held her gaze, remaining silent, reassuring her that the wound meant nothing to him. Inwardly he raged. His peripheral vision was excellent. He had been able to see the wound on her arm.

It was a word carved crudely into her flesh. The wound bled even as Luna tended it before rewrapping it. His eyes never left Hermione's. She nodded once to him in acknowledgement of his lack of pity or disgust.

Shortly after, he excused himself to shower. Neither woman knew how he clenched his fists and silently ran through scenarios of how he would like to punish the one who had harmed Hermione.

XXXX

As they retired for the evening, Hermione sat on her bed, quietly using her wand to pack the few things they would need for their trip. Her mind reflected on the moment she had shaken Clint's hand. A sense of calm and security had swept through her. It was a strange reaction. Almost as if her magic was assuring her that she could trust the handsome man.

And he was handsome. There was no denying that. His blue-green eyes seemed to see into her very soul.

XXXX

The next morning, Clint accompanied the two girls to see the Healer. He stayed outside the room, arms crossed like a sentry. He suspected they had used a spell or enchantment to keep people from overhearing. But, like most people, they ignored the vents. There was one right above the door and it allowed him to hear most of what was said. He paid particular attention to what the healer said about Hermione. He wanted to not only give an accurate report to Tony, but also be able to help if he could. He made a mental note to check into some possible alternative therapies that could help.

He hadn't liked hearing that the word carved into her arm would never properly heal. Once again, his mind supplied various retribution scenarios for him to enjoy. It was too bad the bitch who had done it was dead. After Hermione had gone to bed, he'd had a quiet word with Luna. It didn't stop his dreams from being filled with hunting Hermione's torturer down. He had been woken several times by the sounds of Hermione's nightmares. The last time, he had left his bed and stood outside her door. He wanted to knock and offer his help, but knew there wasn't anything he could do that Luna wasn't doing already to comfort her. He stayed there until Hermione quietened and her breathing became even.

After the appointment with the Healer, the little group had split up. Clint wasn't happy with it. Luna was headed to Diagon Alley to purchase a few necessary supplies. Clint went with Hermione to Grimmauld Place where he met Harry Potter. He allowed Hermione to say her goodbyes before he motioned to Harry. He told him about the conversation he had overheard about a possible attack. Harry thanked him and assured him that his home was safe.

Clint and Hermione waited in the small park across the way for Luna. Once she had joined them, they set off to the airport.