"There are at least two truths to the universe 'Mione and the first is that no one comes to a party to do research."
Hermione hummed absentmindedly, gnawing on her lip as she read through her notes so far. "It's not a party Harri, it's a gala."
"Sorry let me rephrase, no one comes to a gala to do research." Harri scoffed, shaking her head and eyeing the enormous ballroom. Glittering crystals and golden hues dominated the room as if Apollo himself blessed the room with sunshine. Everywhere she looked beautiful people with far too much money mingled and waltzed with each other, a constant sea of voices and tinkling laughter echoed off the walls.
Harri couldn't seem to stop staring, her eyes shining as no one stared back. Here she wasn't the Girl-Who-Lived-Twice, or the Master of Death, or the youngest recipient of the Order of Merlin First Class. Here she was just Harri. One more face in a crowd of faces. A giddiness she hadn't felt since she was climbing out a window into a flying car vibrated through her bones and she wobbled on her too high heels.
Harri turned back to lock her arms with Hermione. "Come on, you can get your notes on whatever it is you're studying later, but we're at an elite p— gala! Let's spice things up a bit, yeah?"
Hermione sighed and closed her journal with a snap to turn an exasperated look at her best friend. "All right, I suppose a little leisure time won't hurt, but!" she hurried to add at Harri's growing smirk, "I really do have to get this done. And I've told you a million times I'm researching behaviour among the muggle 1%. I need to understand the politics behind how these elite groups interact and exchange favours in order to sway the traditionally wealthy purebloods to vote in favour of S.P.E.W." She blew out a breath and put her hands on her hips. "Honestly Harri, you're just as bad as Ronald."
"That's offensive, I take offense to that." Harri grinned cheekily. "You know I'm far worse."
Hermione huffed out a surprised laugh, shaking her head and grinning back. "Let's just get this over with."
"There we go, that's the spirit!"
Harri turned to drag Hermione forward and soon enough the crowd swallowed them whole.
Thirty minutes or two hours later, neither of them could really tell, Harri and Hermione came bowling out of the crowd, ignoring the scandalized glances as their rather eccentric tango came to an end.
Harri doubled over laughing, gasping for breath. "Did you see their faces when—"
"You shoved us through every single couple on the floor while chanting complete nonsense in Spanish Harri! How am I supposed to do my research now? Everyone's looking at us like we belong in a psychiatric ward." Hermione tried to sound stern but it was levied by the bright flush in her cheeks and the interspersed giggles escaping the hand covering her mouth.
"Who cares what they think," Harri watched the crowd reform around the gap they'd left. "We're the most exciting thing that's happened to them since Princess Diana died."
Hermione clasped her other hand to cover her mouth, trying and failing to contain the laugh that burst forth. "Merlin Harri, that's horrible!"
"Billionaires are horrible," Harri shot back. "No one should have that much money. It's obscene."
Hermione gaped. "You're just as rich. If not richer! You paid for Hogwart's and Gringotts' repairs single handedly and it didn't even make a dent in your vaults. I'm sure you've got more galleons in all your combined holdings and estates than Bill Gates."
Harri opened her mouth and then closed it with a resounding click. "I'm gonna get a drink, you want a drink? A drink sounds absolutely refreshing right now, I'll get us a drink." She didn't wait for a response and spun around, striding purposefully to the refreshment table, nabbing a tiny sandwich from a random woman's plate on the way.
"Denial isn't just a river in Egypt, you know!" Hermione called out to her retreating back, chuckling when she received the two-finger salute in response.
Hermione watched the blue-clad form of her friend flit through the crowd with a soft smile. Ever since Harri defeated Voldemort two years ago she'd been rocketed to an unbearable level of fame. Everywhere they went the poor girl was bombarded with requests for autographs and a shake of her hand. Not to mention the press was always one step ahead, seeming to know where Harri would be before the girl could decide herself. Even without Rita on the prowl (Hermione decidedly reminded herself not to think of the hardened husk of a beetle in a jar she'd forgotten to poke holes in), they were vicious, speculating on everything from her love life to the potential of her becoming the next Dark Lord. As a result, beyond the necessary visits to the ministry to rebuild their government and fight for werewolf rights, Harri had been hiding herself within the dusty, depressing corners of Grimmauld Place. Hermione hadn't seen her this animated in far too long, so if it meant losing a valuable opportunity to gather intel, she'd gladly make the sacrifice.
"Merlin knows what I wouldn't do for her," Hermione muttered to herself, turning around to observe the crowd and letting out a squeak when she was met with a face instead.
Tony Stark's face.
"Oh my—"
"Good evening" His head tilted slightly and he gave her a crooked smirk before he took a swig of the amber liquid in his glass that was decidedly not the punch or champagne they were serving. "I need no introduction."
Hermione's eyes nearly bulged out of her head and for once in her life she was struck dumb. "I— You… you're Tony Stark."
"Yes, I know I'm much taller in real life. The camera really does take off 4 inches." Tony paused. "Wait, that sounded wrong."
Hermione shook herself, internally berating her gaping. She'd promised that she'd never have another Lockhart. Never. Again.
...But it's Tony Stark!
"Wow, it's such a pleasure to meet you Dr. Stark," she began. "I've read all your papers on the future of sustainability and the merits of melding the ARC reactor and nuclear fusion techniques with clean energy!"
And Hermione had. Despite attending a wizarding school and spending her childhood doing her best to keep Harri alive, Hermione always kept up with muggle advances. Even more so after the war ended and they finally had time to learn more than the fastest way to kill a man. And now, here was a pioneer in clean energy who had three doctorates and was talking to her, Hermione Granger. She could hardly believe it.
Stark raised his brow. "Smart. I'm not sure if I should be surprised or not given your performance earlier."
Hermione floundered. "My performance?"
"An expertly performed tango salsa at an expensive charity gala. The technique was simply superb, I would go as far as to say magnifique. I especially enjoyed having my toes stepped on." Stark sniffed. "Although the dips could've been a bit lower in my genius opinion and was that supposed to be Spanish?" His gaze suddenly sharpened and he looked around her, trying to look nonchalant. "Where is your friend anyways? The one with the dress and the…" He waved a hand over his face and cleared his throat. "With the, uh, with the eyes."
Hermione flushed, absolutely mortified. "We stepped on your feet?" she squeaked.
Stark nodded. "Came barreling through my partner and I. I'm inclined to send you a thank you note for that, absolute bore that she was."
"Dr. Stark!"
"Well it's true. Anyways, back to your friend. What's her name? I've never been so grateful to have a heel crush my baby toe than in that exact moment. I'd like to thank her. Profusely. With my mouth."
"Oh Harri? Um, she's off to get a drink right now but I'll be sure to pass the message along." Was she hallucinating? In her imagination she'd always thought of meeting Tony Stark and engaging in an intellectual conversation on his work and maybe, after being so impressed with her ability to keep up, an offer to intern at Stark Industries. It'd been one of her academic fantasies since she was a small girl. Not… this. She never would've imagined the Tony Stark seriously asking to thank the saviour of the Wizarding world for stepping on his baby toe.
The glass on its way to his lips froze for a moment before he regained himself and drained a mouthful of the swirling amber. "Thank you, but I'd like to do it personally." His smile had too much teeth and didn't quite reach his eyes. The Tony Stark persona in full effect.
Hermione's returning smile was plastic, brain moving a mile a minute. "Of course." What exactly did he want with Harri? His flirty comments were not fooling her in the slightest. Her eyes narrowed as the worst case scenario immediately filling her mind. Merlin knows Harri is more than capable of taking care of herself and death is hardly an issue with her status, but that didn't mean Hermione would let anyone try to hurt her. Grimmauld Place was filled with jars after all. Perhaps she would start a taxidermy collection.
Hermione shifted uncomfortably, and opened her mouth to change the subject and ask more about his philanthropic pursuits when he stilled, looking over her shoulder.
"Hermione!" Her neck snapped to the side to find Harri running towards her, dress billowing behind her and eyes wide and panicking. Immediately Hermione's limbs tightened, remnants of the war straightening her posture and sending her hand flying to the spot beneath her dress where she hid her wand.
Harri skidded to a halt beside her, sparing Dr. Stark a brief glance before grasping her arm. "'Mione. I did something," she said gravely.
Hermione tensed further, her mind already running through potential escape plans and battle strategies. "What did you do? Are you alright?"
"Umm yeah." Harri glanced back wildly. "I'm spectacular. Listen, you can't get mad okay?"
The tension in her shoulders slowly ebbed away as Hermione recognized this wasn't a 'threat to Harri' situation and instead part of the 'what did Harri do now' club.
"Harri." The warning was clear in her voice and she chanced a sneaking look at Dr. Stark, but the man wasn't watching her. No, he had his eyes on her friend, his gaze intent and shoulders rigid. The glass of whiskey had frozen in his grasp halfway to his mouth. It would be just like Harri to get them kicked out in front of the gala's main benefactor. She swore if Harri ruined this for her she'd—
"Uh, well the thing is, IthinkIblewupthepunchbowl." Harri winced.
Silence. "...What?"
Harri bit her lip. "I think I blew up the punch bowl."
Hermione stared. "You think you blew up the punch bowl," she repeated slowly, tasting the consonants and vowels, waiting for it to make sense. It didn't.
Harri nodded anxiously, wringing her hands together. "I think I blew up the punch bowl."
Hermione glanced over the fidgeting girl's shoulder. A few couples mingled around the table, chatting and laughing as normal. Nothing looked amiss. In fact, she would say the gala had been going extremely well, it really was terrifyingly well organized. Dread pooled somewhere in her stomach. Nothing ever went this well when Harri was involved. She turned back to the girl in question, her lips thinning.
"How do you think you blew up the—"
Dozens of resounding, high-pitched whistles invaded her eardrums one after the other as more fireworks than she could count shot from the punch bowl in every direction: towards the ceiling, the floor, the walls, into the crowd and straight into the table itself. The party halted in its steps, the live band petering out to stare absolutely dumbfounded at the light show.
"You actually..." Dr. Stark started, something that surely couldn't be joy shining in his eyes.
A boom interrupted him as the firework finished their courses and exploded into a colourful array of sparks interspersed with dragons and other wizarding creatures. The glass holding the punch bowl exploded without fanfare and flung glass shards into the columns holding up the balcony that wrapped the rooms perimeter. The guests near the refreshment table screamed silently, unable to be heard over the sparkling explosions, and ducked for cover.
When the last firework boomed through the cavernous hall, the room fell deathly silent.
Harri cleared her throat. "Well that wasn't so bad, was it?"
Hermione choked on air and the table collapsed. The table that stretched the entire wall of an extremely large ballroom and was packed with thousands of euros of food and drinks. The crashing and booming as it hit the floor in a pile of rubble resounded through the floor like a miniature earthquake. And that's when the fireworks started up again.
"Wicked, George finished his Encore Fireworks!" Harri grinned and clapped her hands together before her eyes widened and she grabbed Hermione and Dr. Stark's arm to drag them down just as a burning light sped over their heads, smashing into the wall and joining the kaleidoscope of greens, blues, reds, and purples banging through the room.
Hermione lost it.
"Harriet Lily Rose Potter!" she shrieked. Distant sirens echoed outside the ballroom as people panicked and rushed to the exits, jostling into the three of them as they stood there rooted to the shining floor.
Harri winced again, raising her hands placatingly. "Okay, I know it looks bad but just listen. I swear I didn't mean to, I was just getting us drinks like I said, yeah? But the punch was so bland, and you know I'm not one to complain so when I say it's bland you know it's bland!"
Harri ran a hand through her hair, yanking several pins out in the process. "So I went through my clutch and I was going to add just a little bit of Firewhiskey—"
"Harri!"
"But someone bumped into me and I grabbed the wrong thing and before I knew it I was dropping fireworks into the bowl!" Harri's doe-eyed look implored her to be calm.
Hermione wasn't feeling very calm. "Why do you have fireworks in your bag? I told you to bring the essentials!" Harri's life was a case study for Murphy's Law and Hermione had made it her goal to ensure they wouldn't tempt fate. Bringing fireworks to a high status gala was definitely tempting fate.
Harri groaned. "It's my emergency stash of fireworks that I keep for… emergencies!" She threw her hands up. "I don't know! George gave me some from his private stash."
"Private stash." Hermione hissed. "Harri, you're making him sound like— like a drug dealer or something!" She sputtered and looked at Iron Man nervously, although his burning gaze remained fixed on her best friend, mouth slightly parted. "We aren't drug dealers. George owns a joke shop in London and one of the items he sells is fireworks. Fireworks isn't a code for anything." She rushed to explain, glancing wildly between her friend and the billionaire playboy. The urge to rip her hair out had never been stronger.
Stark cleared his throat, fingers stroking his glass absentmindedly. "Is that so," he said softly
Harri made a face. "Yeah I would hardly go for George if I wanted some drugs, that's more Neville's schtick. He's got a bit of a green thumb if you know what I mean." A cheeky wink and Hermione was now 100% certain she was going to beat her friend to death. With her fists. Slowly.
Hermione didn't notice Dr. Stark's small smile nor his whispered statement. "I think I'm in love."
She surged forward, gripping Harri's alabaster arm with more force than was strictly necessary and started dragging her backwards.
"Ow, Hermione!"
Hermione squeezed tighter, surely leaving bruises now. "We're leaving," she hissed in Harri's ear. To Dr. Stark, "I'm so sorry, we'll reimburse you for the damages and take complete responsibility for the… for everything!" She paused to pull out a muggle business card and practically threw it at Dr. Stark in her rush to get them out. "I'm so, so sorry."
Harri stumbled in her grip. "Alright, alright, I'm coming. Blimey 'Mione, are you trying to rip my arm off?"
Hermione dug her nails in.
"OW!"
The entire walk to the emergency exit doors, Hermione felt his gaze tracking them. Tracking Harri. She gritted her teeth. He'd have to go through her first before he'd get to Harri. She tightened her grip on the girl reflexively.
"HERMIONE!"
"Oops, sorry!"
Four months later
"Now, Mr. Stark, you have been attending a record number of charity galas this year. How do you find the time to run a multi-billion dollar company, save the world, and attend to your philanthropic endeavours?"
"Hermione!"
Hermione fumbled like a child caught with their hand in a cookie jar, quickly changing the channel, tossing the remote on the couch, and spinning around with her hands behind her back.
Harri came barreling around the corner, arms pinning the silky green fabric to her figure. She spared a quick glance at the television, doing a double take before looking back to her. "Will you zip me up?"
Spinning her around and pushing her long black hair off her back, Hermione completed the task and patted her friend on the shoulder to let her know she was done. "You look absolutely stunning Harri."
Harri's dress cinched in at the chest and waist, its deep neckline showing off a hint of cleavage before flaring out at the hips subtly. The deep green accentuated her creamy pale skin and her hair fell in soft waves to her lower back. Simply stated, Harri looked fit for royalty.
"Thank you, so do you," Harri said, looking at her curiously. "Not that I'm judging your undefeatable quest for knowledge and love of documentaries, but is watching baboons, uh… mate, really something you need to learn more about?"
"What?" Hermione spun back to the screen, cringing at what she saw. Her cheeks reddened but she refused to explain. She had been trying her best to keep Tony Stark away from her friend until she knew what his intentions were. Merlin knows what he wanted with the girl, but he'd been attending every single gala or event for the past four months. Four. Whole. Months. Four months that she avoided attending galas despite the pressing need for her research to be completed. It's just nobody is that dedicated without reason and especially someone as busy as Tony bloody Stark. "Knowledge is power Harri," she said seriously and then quickly changed the subject. "Now, where is Ronald?"
"He's trying and failing to put his tie on." Harri answered, snickering.
Hermione huffed. "Oh, for the love of—" She spun away in a swirl of red to help her 20 year old fiancé get dressed.
Harri watched her friend go with a smile before turning back to the TV. Eyeing the remote, she picked it up and pressed the 'last channel' button. Immediately Tony Stark's handsome face filled the screen and her heart skipped a beat. She frowned and pressed a hand to her chest, looking over her shoulder to make sure Hermione was still gone. Harri had noticed the girl's stern refusal to talk about anything regarding that night and especially anything to do with Stark. At first, she'd assumed it was the firework fiasco and lingering embarrassment, but now… If Harri didn't know Hermione was happily engaged, she'd say the girl had a crush. She looked back to the screen, eyeing the man's deep brown eyes and trimmed goatee and hummed appreciatively. Harri would hardly blame her, the man was dashing.
Sighing, Harri turned the tv off and threw the remote down to call up the stairs, "You two better not be imitating those baboons right now!" She ignored Kreacher's grumbles of 'screaming blood traitors' as he skulked by.
Thumping footsteps started down the stairs as the couple at last appeared in the foyer. She smirked at Ron's tousled hair and Hermione's swollen mouth.
"Oh shove off Harri." Ron grinned at her.
She smiled wider, wiggling her eyebrows but letting the matter go. "Alright, are we ready?"
Hermione nodded. "I've got my journal and Ron's got his tie."
Harri led them out the door, closing it and waving her hand to strengthen the wards. "And I've got my fireworks."
"HARRI!" Harri and Ron flinched.
"I'm kidding! Merlin 'Mione, we'll be deaf by 30 at this rate."
Harri accepted the butler's help down the winding staircase with a murmured "Thank you," too caught up in the splendor of the room to notice his indulging smile. While the last gala was a picture of gold and crystals, the theme this time matched her dress in a tone reminiscent of Slytherin's common room or the Forbidden Forest. Vines spun their way across the walls and extremely life-like trees dotted the room, their canopy providing a hushed, intimate stage for dancing. She wanted to parade the pureblood supremacists through the room and say "See! Muggles don't need magic to create something magical!"
She spun in a circle, laughing and looking back to Hermione and Ron, their faces split into similar states of awe. Grabbing their hands, she pulled them onwards. "It's time to party!"
Ron grinned easily but Hermione held back, guilt twisting her expression. "I really do need to do this research. I really want to!" she hurried to add as their expressions twisted, "But it's May and the voting is taking place in late June! I can't waste any more time, I'm sorry."
"You think we're a waste of time?" Ron turned to Harri. "Can you believe her?"
Harri shook her head. "So disrespectful."
"Whatever," Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm going to go do my research before either of you get us blown up, or worse, kicked out." She turned away with a huff, unable to stop the smile twitching at her lips as their laughter followed her retreating back.
"So," Ron watched his fiancé walk away until she disappeared from sight before turning to Harri. "Food?"
Harri grabbed his arm, grinning. "Food."
Thirty minutes later and several swigs from their emergency flask later, Harri and Ron were dancing (more like swaying really) on the dance floor. The thick canopy above cast dancing shadows on their figures as only tiny spaces of light penetrated the foliage.
"That woman's wearing an actual peacock feather in her hair. How on the nose can you get?"
Ron snorted. "No but check out that guy, either he spilled his drink and didn't notice or he's pissed himself."
Harri guffawed. "What? Where?"
"Here." Ron spun them around, completely ignoring the beat of the music as he waded through the crowd towards the poor man. "Aha, look, he's right there." Ron stopped them and pointed the man out with a jerk of his chin.
Harri dropped her arm from his shoulder to his chest as she swung around, scanning the crowd for stained trousers. Her eyes brightened. "Oh! I see him, Merlin he really did piss himself didn't he?" The dark spot on his trousers trailed a crooked and bent path down his leg and she giggled. "Why were you looking there Ron, do you have something to tell…" she glanced back and did a double take, immediately trailing off as her eyes widened.
Is that...
"Evening, my name is Tony Stark."
It was.
The man himself stood there just as she'd seen him on TV. Fitted in an Armani black tux tailored to his lean body and an intensely dark gaze, his eyes never left hers as he offered his hand to shake.
She looked to Ron who seemed just as bewildered, having heard of the famous Tony Stark even growing up in a wizarding household. Harri cleared her throat and put her hand into his delicately. "Harri Potter."
A sharp inhale was her only response when Stark raised her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles softly without breaking eye contact. "It's a pleasure to meet you once again, Mrs. Potter."
"Oh, I'm not... I mean I'm not married. Just Harri is fine, Mr. Stark." She looked to Ron to see if he knew what was happening but he shrugged unhelpfully. A flash of relief momentarily relaxed Stark's features.
"It's Tony please, Harri." She involuntarily swallowed at the way he said her name. Harri didn't remember him being this electrifying when she'd first met him, although she had been a little bit preoccupied then with her pyrotechnics.
Still holding her hand, Tony swiped a thumb across her knuckles. "May I have this dance?"
Harri only hesitated for a moment before nodding her consent and gliding past a shocked Ron as Tony guided her to a quieter part of the dance floor. Pulling her hand to his shoulder, he took the other in his hand and then laced a hand around her waist, pulling her closer than most would deem appropriate for mere acquaintances.
A sudden suspicion flew through her mind and Harri narrowed her eyes, looking him up and down. "You're not here to sue me are you?"
Tony stared at her for a moment in shocked surprise, whatever he was expecting her to say it was most definitely not that, and barked out a laugh. "Do I need to be suing a beautiful woman just to ask her to dance with me?"
Harri shrugged and he laughed again.
"Why would I sue you? Unless in some form of roleplay and if so then I would very much enjoy suing you Harri. I'd sue you into ruin." His voice dropped to a husky rasp and he flexed his grip around her waist.
Harri's heart skipped a beat and she resolutely told it to either calm down or drop dead, none of this swooning business. "Then why?"
Tony's gaze roved over her features. "You know, you're a difficult woman to find Ms. Potter."
"Harri." She paused. "You've… you were looking for me?" Her brows furrowed. If he wasn't going to sue her then… she gasped. "Tony!" Harri admonished.
He tilted his head, smiling lopsidedly. "Yes, Ms. Potter?"
She glared. "It's Harri!" Raising a hand she smacked him in the chest, ignoring that it clanged instead of thumped. "Hermione is an engaged woman! I know she's smart and you probably bonded over your shared love of learning or whatever, but she's taken." Merlin, Hermione's refusal to attend another gala and the image of Tony Stark on the screen came back full force and her face bled to white. "Did you… you guys didn't, right?" How was she going to tell Ron? And why did something like jealousy have her clenching her jaw?
The amusement wiped clean from his face and he paused their dancing, pulling her off to the side. "No, Harri. I am not, nor have I ever been interested in Hermione." Tony said seriously. "I'm sure she's lovely, but she's not the one I uh.." a slight redness coloured his cheeks. "Oh look, snacks! I love snacks, let's go get some. I'll get us some snacks, or better yet, we'll get us some snacks together. Off we go!" Clearing his throat he offered his arm to her, pointedly avoiding her gaze.
Harri smiled at his flustered state, still confused, but grabbed his arm obligingly. Despite only knowing him for 20 minutes at most, she felt surprisingly at ease around the richest, most notoriously well-known public figure in the world. The richest man in the world who couldn't stop looking at her hand on his arm with a smile that threatened to split his face as he guided them through the crowd with ease, people moving out of the way when they saw him coming.
"So, you were looking for me?" Harri asked as they reached the steel reinforced table. The punch sat innocently in the middle, its glass edges so easily breakable. Her fingers twitched.
Tony reached forward to grab them each a glass. "Did you know all records of your existence stop at age eleven? No school records, doctors visits, not even a parking ticket or overdue library book. According to the internet, you" he paused to pop a blueberry into his mouth and look her up and down again, "don't exist."
Harri tensed. He'd done a background check? "Is that so?" She gnawed on her lip, cursing the wizarding world for not thinking this far ahead. Is it not a threat to their secrecy if the muggles start to notice that every year several hundred children go missing in their records at precisely the age of eleven? "There's too much information about you in the world and not enough about me." She attempted to shrug nonchalantly. "I guess we're just opposites that way."
Tony pulled out a flask from his tuxes' breast pocket and spiked their punch glasses. "Harri, did you google me?" he asked, something like satisfaction settling into his face.
Harri scowled. "No." Reaching forward she pushed him out of the way, pulling out her flask from the garter belt around her thigh, and spiked their drinks some more. With a discrete look around for a pile of bushy hair, she emptied the rest into the punch bowl. "I'm just saying you're a celebrity, there must be hordes of information out there about you… not that I would know."
Tony watched her flask disappear in her skirts again and grabbed her drink from her grasp, setting it on the table. Ignoring her protests, he practically dragged her to one of the ballrooms doors.
"Huh?" Harri said, very intelligently. Was this the part where he kidnapped her? She eyed his backside as he strode powerfully through the masses and licked her lips appreciatively. Is there such a thing as consensual kidnapping?
Tony nearly ripped the door open, pulling her inside and shoving the door closed. Immediately, the tinkling laughter and constant drone of conversation dimmed into a quiet, distant hum. A long, wide hallway stretched to what looked like the kitchen, jars of punch and plates of food ready to be taken out to the rich clientele in attendance.
Tony let go of her arm and strode into the room, barking an order at everyone to go take a thirty minute break. She watched from the doorway curiously as everyone hurried to follow his orders.
"I know I spiked the bowl but it was honestly sparkling water at best! I think relegating me to kitchen duty is a little bit too harsh of a punishment, but I guess I— oomph" Throughout her panicked spiel he steadily stalked towards her, a leopard on the prowl. His gaze was dark and heady as he reached forward to snake a hand around her waist and pulled her tight to the hard lines of his body.
Her breath stuttered as he lifted his other hand to stroke her jaw and then his lips were on hers, his goatee scratching against her smooth skin as his jaw flexed. Her stomach swooped but before she could even process the movement he was retreating, something like enchantment colouring his gaze.
"I can't believe you're real," he whispered, his eyes roving over face as if memorizing her features. "Please tell me you're not some siren mermaid or woodland nymph off to steal my heart and then rip it out."
Her head was still spinning and not from the alcohol. Did he just— "What," she choked out. "This is all happening so fast. You―"
Suddenly, a booming eruption exploded down the hall, breaking through the kitchen and into the hallway and sending them flying across the room. Tony secured his arms around her mid flight and spun them so he took the brunt of the fall. He grunted as they slammed into the ground and slid across the floor. A coppery tang exploded in her mouth and her breath slammed out of her lungs.
"Are you okay?" Tony panted. He rolled them over and ran his hand across her face and down her neck, checking for injuries. Dust covered his forehead and a trail of blood leaked across his chin.
Harri nodded fiercely, brain switching into war mode as a large man with a glowing orb in his chest walked through the hole in the wall, feet crunching over the glass that was once the jars of punch. In his hands he held thin whips of what looked like a livewire of electricity.
As the dust settled, Tony turned to look at her, eyes imploring. "You need to run. Go back out the door and get out of here. Please." She nodded though she had no intention of leaving him and started to scramble backwards, ducking into the darkness and slipping out the door, just seeing Tony's eyes shutter and the Iron Man suit begin to cover his body as he faced the electrical man.
Harri turned to face the oblivious ballroom and felt cold determination seize her muscles. She ignored everyone and everything as the loud crowd of chatter filled her ears once more and her eyes adjusted to the light. Casting a Notice-Me-Not charm, she apparated to the second level of the floor and shoved her way through the crowd. A quick, wandless Point-Me and she threw herself through another set of doors until she was right above her target.
Eyes narrowing in vicious retaliation at the muted sound of Tony's armour banging into the wall, she pulled out her clutch.
When Tony pulled the beautiful minx with a mischievousness to match his own that he hadn't been able to stop thinking about for months and that he was completely, utterly whipped for into the dark hallway and ordered everyone to leave, he was not expecting to be actually whipped.
Tony cursed as another strike hit his shoulder and he fired off five quick bursts of his repulsors, checking over his shoulder to make sure Harri had really gone. He breathed out a sigh of relief, at least she was safe.
That was a mistake.
With his attention briefly elsewhere, he couldn't dodge the strike of a whip coming straight for his helmet. JARVIS was an unwelcome voice in his ear, "Suit capacity 13%, malfunction imminent, sir."
"Yeah I think I got that, thanks JARVIS."
"If you make God bleed people cease to believe in Him." Whiplash stalked towards him. Tony's mind circling through different escape strategies, all tempered by the ballroom full of innocent citizens just a door away. "I wonder what happens when you do the same to a hero," Whiplash practically spat the word, face twisting in a maelstrom of disdain.
"You know if you wanted to watch me kiss the girl of my dreams you could've just waited a couple months for when it comes out in the tabloids" Tony pulled back his mangled faceplate to stare impishly up at Whiplash. "But otherwise it was quite rude to interrupt."
His leg was picked up unceremoniously and then he was flying through the air once more, smashing into the wall with a groan as several pots and pans rained down on him. "Yup, that's definitely gonna bruise later," he gasped.
"Suit capacity 5%, mal—"
"Yup, I think I got that, again, thanks J!" Tony groaned.
"I'm going to make you bleed, Tony Stark. And when your blood is contouring the walls of this hallway I'll parade your body to your precious little fans." Whiplash striked a whip straight at his head and he rolled to the side at the last second, vision blurring.
"Hey, listen, we can talk about this." He let out a grunt and spread his legs out as a whip just barely missed his crotch. Tony looked up in genuine offence. "I get you're trying to kill me but really man?"
Whiplash sneered. "Everybody will see you aren't the fabled little hero they think you are, you're just another broken little boy desperate for attention and recognition, but not to worry, I'll give you all the attention you deserve, Iron Man," he jeered.
Tony raised an eyebrow, "Hey, little callback to what you interrupted, remember? The beautiful girl I was very much enjoying?" He raised his hands, "I'm sure you've got a great personality but I don't swing that way."
A growl escaped Whiplash's lips and he raised his whip for the final blow. Tony cringed and threw his arms up to cover his head, but the blow never came. Instead, the ceiling tore itself apart, ripping away from the middle outwards in a mini vortex, blackening at the edges.
A small figure dropped through the hole and landed on Whiplash's back faster than his eyes could follow and then—
"Harri?" Tony's stomach dropped and he scrambled to his knees. "Don't touch her," he snarled, attempting to stand and falling to his knees, cursing to himself and crawling towards them. Of all times for his legs to fail him, they choose now? Panic ripped at his bones as he watched the object of his affections balance on his enemies shoulders.
Whiplash reached up to snap a whip at her face, annoying colouring his expression, and Tony's mouth opened in silent horror. No, not her, they'd just met they hadn't any time yet. Not her, not—
But the sparking whip's trajectory was true and followed through and… it bounced off an invisible shield?
What?
"JARVIS?" Tony asked hesitantly. "You seeing this too?"
"Yes sir. And I'm not entirely sure what it is. It seems to be some form of energy packed together tightly enough to block physical attacks. My systems are currently incapable of classifying it."
Whiplash paused in confusion, and Tony watched as Harri used it to her advantage, yanking Whiplash's chin up, forced his jaw open, and shoved something down his throat.
Raising her pointer finger, a single, solitary flame lit its end like a human birthday candle. "Hasta la vista, baby," Harri growled and then shoved the finger down his throat.
Whiplash's eyes nearly bulged out of his head, his arms raising to his throat and Harri quickly jumped off the man's back, sprinting for Tony as the telltale sound of whining filled the room again.
Harri threw herself into his arms and had just enough time to throw up a reinforced shield before the fireworks finished their flight down into Whiplash's intestines and exploded.
A lightshow larger and louder than the one 4 months ago exploded in the small room: blues, purples, and greens joined by splatters and chunks of red decorated the kitchen as the once electrical man combusted from within.
Tony turned to look at Harri as the booming continued and watched the flashing colours highlight her sternly set profile. He tugged her closer and rested his chin on her shoulder, twisting back to watch the finale.
When the last of the fireworks settled down, Harri took a breath and pulled back to face Tony, knowing she couldn't avoid his gaze forever.
Tony didn't seem angry but then again he didn't seem happy. His eyes were entirely unreadable. Did he think she was a freak now? A murderer? She had just killed a man in cold blood afterall. Regardless of whether he deserved it or not, it wasn't exactly morally correct. Especially to a superhero. She grimaced and tried to move away but the hand on her waist tightened.
Squaring her shoulders, vying for that legendary Gryffindor bravery, she spoke, "I'm not a mermaid siren, those are actually really ugly so that was kind of rude, but anyways." Her breath hitched as Tony reached forward to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear. "Um, I'm also not a woodland nymph, nor am I here to rip your heart out, but I am, kind of, a witch." Her statement sounded more like a question and she stared at him unsurely.
Tony said nothing for a few beats, the lingering sparklers the only noise to break the silence. And then, "If you're a witch, does that mean you'll ride my broom?"
Harri gaped. "Tony!"
Tony smirked and flipped their positions, disengaging the Iron Man suit and pulling her beneath him. "Is that a yes?"
"I just blew up a man with magical fireworks not even 20 meters away from a charity gala for orphans and you're hitting on me?" Harri stared up at him incredulously, a small, betraying smile tugging at her lips.
Tony's dark brown eyes followed its movement and he hummed in acknowledgement, drifting closer. "Oh I'd do much more than that."
The pounding of his heart beneath her hand matched her own as his lips brushed against hers and his weight settled firmly between her thighs. His hair was blown back from the fight and she threaded her fingers through it, sighing when he at last pressed his lips firmly to hers, taking her upper lip into his mouth and then the bottom, asking for permission with his tongue.
Harri granted it, moaning when it expertly navigated into her mouth. He tasted of burning whiskey and cinnamon and she was absolutely sure that's exactly what she would smell if she had any amortentia on her. She'd never felt this attracted to a man in her life. Her stilted experiences with Cedric and Draco absolutely unmatched by the man on top of her. Her head felt heady in a way she'd only read about in books or heard about from Lavender's many escapades. It was intoxicating.
Arching her back when he nipped at her lip, soothing it with a lick of his tongue, she leaned into his chest, legs instinctively falling open and curling around his hips. Her dress tented at her hips, leaving only the small fabric of her knickers as a barrier.
Tony broke apart from her lips to trail a fiery path down her neck, one hand holding her jaw and the other gliding down her body. When he reached the thigh wrapped around his waist, he squeezed it and rolled his hips forward, dragging his achingly hard bulge right over her entrance. She moaned, lifting her hips up to meet his thrusts, tightening her hold in his hair as his groaned "fuck " did delicious things to the throbbing ache between her thighs.
Pulling back, Tony rolled them forwards again, and then again, and again, and again, until her thighs quivered with every movement.
"Tony," she gasped into his ear as he hit that spot. Yes yes yes yes.
Tony hissed as shivers rocked his frame. "Yes, baby?" A groan as she bit down on his earlobe and used her legs to push him down harder.
"I need you inside me," Harri whimpered. Nevermind being 'proper' or that she hadn't even known the man for a whole day. She didn't care. "Right now. Please."
Tony shuddered, and flexed his hands on her thigh, letting his head fall forward and groaning into her neck. "I'd love to sweetheart, you don't know how fucking much I want to." He looked like he was in pain as he stared down at her and his hips stilled, "But as you said, we are right beside a corpse, as soupy as he may look."
Harri's face scrunched and Tony smiled softly.
"So yes, as much as it would be my absolute pleasure, and trust me," his voice deepened, "I would make it very, very pleasurable."
Harri's muscles clenched around nothing and she took her lip between her teeth.
"I don't want our first time to be here, on this kitchen floor, you deserve—"
"HARRIET LILY ROSE POTTER CAN YOU NOT GO ONE DAY WITHOUT EXPLODING SOMETHING?" Hermione's ringing shriek came echoing down the hallway and they froze, Tony looking down at her in amusement as she went red with mortification.
Harri reached up to push Tony off her, ignoring his smirk and rumpled appearance to tug her dress back down her legs, tracking Hermione's approach through her clicking footsteps.
"Honestly, I had to obliviate at least forty different muggles and cast multiple silencing charms to cover up the sounds of those bloody fireworks! What is it with you and fireworks Harri?! You are banned from speaking to George until we get you therapy or something, I swear…" Hermione trailed off as she reached their positions and paused to take in the severely damaged Iron Man suit, the splatters of blood covering the room behind them, and their tousled appearances.
Hermione's mouth closed with a snap.
"I told Tony I'm a witch." Harri blurted.
Hermione gaped and turned to the man for confirmation.
Tony raked a hand through his hair and nodded, pulling Harri towards himself and settling her on his lap possessively as if daring the irate witch to argue with him.
Hermione looked to the missing ceiling, releasing a long suffering sigh and begging the gods for the patience she did not have.
"Harri."
Harri eyed her warily. "Yes?"
"From now on the second truth to the universe is that Harri Potter shall never go near the punch table or bring fireworks to a party." Hermione glared at her sternly. "Ever."
Harri smiled sweetly. "Hermione."
Hermione crossed her arms, glancing at the dopey expression on the billionaire's face, the arms that hugged her best friend to his body, and the look of complete adoration on his face. "Yes, Harri?"
"It's not a party, it's a gala."