Chapter Ten
Hermione knew traveling 'muggle style' with Luna was sure to be interesting. She just hadn't expected it to be both entertaining and exhausting.
Before they boarded the plane, the little group had to go through security and customs. Getting through the metal detectors had been something else. Apparently, Luna had an undetectable extension charm on her pocket. A pocket apparently filled with several metal items. After the fourth attempt to make it through failed and the guard pulled Luna to the side to sweep her person with the handheld, Hermione discretely cast a wandless confundus charm.
Customs was even worse. When asked if she had any produce or edibles to declare, Luna had looked at them strangely. "Well, just my earrings. They're radishes. They help ward off the nargles that are nesting in my luggage."
Hermione had run a hand over her face in exasperation. She'd finally had to use her second confundus charm of the day just to get Luna through the airport. To give him credit, Clint had remained calm and collected through the whole scene. Hermione certainly appreciated that.
Luna had done well during the flight. She slept for most of it. Hermione hadn't slept, too worried she would have a nightmare. At one point the plane experienced a bit of turbulence. Hermione had grabbed Clint's hand. He had calmly held it and murmured reassurances to her. She didn't notice that she still held his hand long after they passed the turbulence.
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Clint noticed. He looked at their clasped hands and smiled softly. It felt good to be the one who took care of her. They talked quietly together on the flight. And though he told himself not to get too attached, Clint couldn't help but fall a little more.
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As the group exited the airport, they were pleased to find Happy waiting to pick them up. He had hugged Hermione tightly, pretending not to let a few stray tears fall.
Hermione was anxious to see her Papa. She was having a good day strength-wise. The doctor had promised her that with proper care she would regain her strength and youthful energy. She would however, probably always have episodes of tremors from the Cruciatus curse. On the way up in the elevator, she found herself leaning on Clint, who silently offered his support.
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Bruce watched as Tony paced, impatiently waiting for the elevator to reach them. He had been surprised to hear that not only did Tony have a daughter, but that she was also a witch, and had been missing for months. The elevator dinged and Bruce turned his attention to it as the doors opened. Happy walked out, quietly talking to a petite blonde woman. The woman walked straight up to him, and looked at him with her big, blue eyes. He stared awkwardly at her as he said hello. She smiled and he felt a funny sensation in his chest. The young woman wrapped her arms around him in a hug. He wasn't sure what to make of it. It was over quickly and she smiled at him again, the fluttery feeling returning. His eyes were drawn to her as Tony greeted his daughter.
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Luna smiled at the tall man. This was one of the other reasons she had accompanied Hermione home. She had seen in a dream that the man who would one day be her husband was living with Hermione's father. He was older, but quite handsome. His eyes relayed his intelligence. She couldn't wait to get to know everything about him. She couldn't seem to stop herself from hugging him. Luna knew he needed her, even if he didn't know that yet.
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Back and forth Tony paced. Did it always take the elevator so long to reach this floor? Probably not. It just seemed longer because he knew Hermione was in it.
Hearing the ding, he stopped. Pepper joined him, holding his hand tightly. The doors slid open and Happy and Luna were the first to exit. Tony eyed Clint, whose arm was wrapped around Hermione's waist as he helped her walk the short distance. They stopped before him and Clint transferred her arm to Tony before stepping back. He remained close in case her legs gave out.
No words were exchanged as father and daughter embraced, both crying.
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Hermione collapsed against him, his arms embracing her tightly. Sobs shook her thin frame. God, what had she been through? Tony leaned down, scooped her up and carried her to the couch. There he sat with his daughter in his lap. His eyes met Clint's as he mouthed the words: thank you. Clint nodded in acknowledgement.
Tony's hands stroked her hair and back in an attempt to soothe her. He fought off his remaining tears, choosing to be strong for Hermione. He couldn't fall apart now, not when she needed him. He talked in a low soothing tone, reassuring her of his love, her safety, anything he could think of.
Finally, she calmed enough to lift her head from his shoulder. Her tear-streaked face looked to his. He cupped her face gently and kissed her forehead.
His voice shook as he spoke, "I'm so glad you're home, sweetheart."
"Me too, Papa," she whispered.
Searching her face, he asked her, "Can you talk about it? I want to know what happened."
Nodding her head, she reached a hand out for Luna, who held it tight. Hermione began to tell the story of loss, hope, fear, war, and survival. Luna added in what she could, even taking over when Hermione was unable to get it all out.
Tony held her the entire time. He wasn't sure if he was reassuring her or himself. Either way he knew he would have trouble letting her out of his sight again. In fact, he took her to his room and tucked her into his bed. He would watch over her tonight, keep her safe from everything. Once she was asleep, he asked Jarvis to send Clint to him. Sitting where he could still see her, he listened to Clint's report on her health and his personal observations. His voice catching, Tony once again thanked him.
Finally, Tony joined her in sleep. He was woken a few hours later when she had a nightmare. Rolling over, he reached out to her and held her tight. When she calmed, he got up to get her some water. Finally she fell back asleep. He pressed another kiss to her forehead before joining her in sleep. The screaming happened again a few hours later. This time after she fell asleep, Tony stayed awake.
At breakfast the next morning, he sat across from her, encouraging her to eat, while his eyes catalogued every new scar he could see. He hadn't seen the extent of the damage to her arm last night as it had been bandaged. But this morning, it was uncovered. He knew that word and what it meant.
He remembered the letter she had sent home in her second year, telling him about the ferret boy calling her that word for the first time. The letter had been streaked with tears. He recalled a trip to Diagon Alley, where he had heard the word directed, not at his daughter, but at another muggle-born. Now his precious girl was left with a permanent reminder of that awful slur. Just because they were born to non-magical parents didn't mean that they were somehow inferior to others. If anything, Tony reasoned that muggle-borns had purer magic. They were the ones blessed with the gift. They shouldn't be treated as anything but equals. Tony wouldn't stand for it. He slipped away and quietly made contact with the other muggle-born families. Next, he contacted the Weasleys. Two of them worked at the Ministry of Magic and knew the best way to go about changing things. They helped him get the ball rolling. For all the issues Percy had once had with his family, he now seemed anxious to make up for his shortcomings. He knew exactly what needed to be done.
Because the trio were considered war heroes, their names held a lot of power and influence. All three, plus several others, supported the need for change. With their personal endorsement and pleas and petitions to the Wizengamot, plus the galleons Tony contributed towards campaigning for change, a new law was passed in just a few short months. From the date the new legislation was actioned by the Wizengamot and approved by the Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, no person could discriminate against another person because of their blood status. All were now to be considered equal under the law and within the wizarding community. Anyone caught using a derogatory term with reference to someone of a different blood status faced a hefty fine with the possibility of time in Azkaban for repeat offenders. It was a victory. Just a small one that Tony was able to help accomplish for his daughter.
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Tony wasn't the only one who was watching over Hermione. She had been sleeping in her own bed for a week now and Clint had yet to hear her wake up screaming. He had hoped that meant she was getting better, healing. He himself had been struggling to sleep. So he did what he always did when he needed to get away, he took to the vents. He decided to head over to check on Hermione. He didn't plan to watch her sleep like some psycho. But he wanted to reassure himself that she was doing better. Instead of seeing her peacefully sleeping, he watched as she screamed silently, thrashing in the bed, her back arching off the mattress.
Clint's heart broke to see her suffering. He knew she had been locking her door, and given the lack of sound, that she had silenced the area around her bed too. There was no way he could go to her and offer her comfort now. He would have no reason to be anywhere near her room. He sat in silence, offering what support he could from a distance.
The next day he tried harder to help her. Unlike some of the others; who, even though they meant well, just made it worse. Clint never treated her as if she was some fragile doll. He knew she would hate that. Instead he focused on the things he could do. He escorted her for walks on the rooftop terrace. He talked to her about anything and everything. He invited her to join him for a movie in the living room,which he had deemed a success and planned to repeat in the future. They had both fallen asleep, cuddled together under a thick blanket. They both slept all night, no nightmares plaguing them.
Once, he even tried to impress her with his knowledge of Wizarding tea traditions. He had arranged for tea to be served in the garden that Luna had added to the rooftop terrace.
He escorted her to a small table and chairs. After helping her sit, he reached for the sugar bowl. Turning it this way and that, he examined the contents.
"What are you doing?" Hermione asked, a little amusement sparkling in her eyes..
"Checking for Nargles. Looks clear, but keep an eye on your cookies. Those little devils are tricky." His attention switched to the tea pot. He poured some into her cup, straining meticulously as he poured.
"Ah! No gulping plymplies!" Clint exclaimed triumphantly. "Would you care for a complimentary gurdyroot? When it comes to those plympies, you can never be too careful. Best to ward them off, just in case."
Hermione's hand covered her mouth in an attempt to smother the laughter that threatened to bubble up and spill over.
"Let me guess. Luna?" she said with a smile.
Nodding sheepishly, Clint's cheeks tinged pink. Unable to control it any longer, Hermione had broken down into full laughter. It was then that Clint decided he had never seen anything so beautiful. Her eyes were sparkling, her lips turned up in a smile. He would do anything he could to see her like this as much as possible.
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She stared at him when he wasn't looking, admiring him from afar. She knew she was falling for him, but for once her heart didn't try to caution her against it..
He was gorgeous. Sometimes sweet. Somewhat goofy. Bossy. Protective. He called to every longing inside her.
All she'd ever wanted was someone to watch over her. To see past the facade she used. She knew that she was supposed to be independent and strong. She was supposed to be able to take care of herself. To not rely on others. They relied on her. But she guessed she was just built differently from most people.
Growing up, she'd loved reading books where the girl had someone to protect her, not because she was weak, but because she was important. Someone to watch out for her. To give her advice. To ward off the bad things in life.
When her parents had died, Tony had done that for her. He had set the bar high when it came to what she wanted in a potential partner. She had thought it had been too much to hope for, then she had met Clint.
He spoke to the place inside of her that longed for a family of her own, for a home filled with love and laughter. Papa, Pepper and even Happy had helped to fill the void in her life. She loved them, and they loved her. But the warm, fuzzy love from family wasn't the same as that from a lover, a husband. It wasn't that fluttery anticipation that slowly bloomed into fiery passion. And that was what she hoped for. What she craved. And she craved it. Dear Merlin, did she crave it with Clint.