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January 2nd, 2010

'The truth is…I am Iron Man.'

Harry Potter and Hermione Granger's jaws dropped in shock. The duo was staying at her home for the winter holidays after much browbeating and cajoling on the girl's part and were snacking in front of the TV when genius billionaire Tony Stark gave his statement at a press conference.

The pair had developed a great friendship in the year and a half of schooling at Hogwarts, owing to their shared love of knowledge and voracious dedication to discovery, be it magic or the rapidly developing non-magical world.

It had taken several months during their first year of magical education for Hermione to stamp out (in a way that was gentle, non-threatening, and honestly with a bit of tears from her) Harry's self-imposed limits on his own education.

Oh, Hermione knew she had not heard Harry's full story on his hellish relatives, but it was apparent how the boy managed to rank just below her on their assignments and term exams. She would not bring up the subject of his loving 'family' if her best friend didn't want to, but she did tell him how dreadfully dangerous it could have been for Harry to completely suppress his intelligence had he continued to do so.

In turn, Harry had managed to mellow out his bushy-haired friend's more…manic tendencies toward studying. Yes, writing ten extra inches of parchment on the properties of mint in cleaning solutions was all well and good. Still, it didn't communicate to the professors that she had understood the rambling, or word-vomit, as Harry had said one time earning a huff and a withering glare from his best friend. He was more practical and intuitive towards knowledge, which infuriated her to no end when he caught on to concepts faster than her, but her encyclopedic awareness of tons of research balanced their quirky little duo.

Harry did not know where he would be now if Hermione and her family hadn't shown up that early morning at King's Cross in his first year.

Now, on the Christmas break of their second year, and with a potentially dangerous magical creature loose in the school and a few petrified victims, they still sat dumbstruck in front of the sitting room's TV at Hermione's place.

"Bloody hell", whispered Harry. It felt like all he could do, staring at some distant point past the TV.

"Language", admonished Hermione automatically, in an equally low voice.

"I-", he stuttered, before clearing his throat. "Hermione, do you realise what this means?" he asked. He still hadn't stopped staring, and the chaos in the press conference was still going strong.

"Harry!" she suddenly exclaimed, causing him to startle, almost jumping out of his skin and landing on the floor in front of the couch.

He landed on a splattering of popcorn. Huh. How did those get there? Harry then remembered he had been holding them when his entire world came crashing down in the form of his idol admitting to being a superhero.

"Blimey, Hermione, what-", he said, before turning to look at her. Oh no, he thought.

She was facing him, with what Harry had come to call the Look. She had a glint in her eyes and a bright, almost manic expression. A smile that could blind a thousand men and other metaphorical and whimsy things Harry had no passion to describe. She had that Look that said that he had just figured something out.

"Oh, I can't believe we didn't see it before! It all makes sense. He miraculously escapes a terrorist cell and a few months later those same terrorists get beaten black and blue? By a robot man with the exact same blue glowy pattern on his chest that Tony Stark had after his rescue?" she said in the rapid-fire cadence that Harry had honestly grown fond of.

"Holy shi- I mean, shoot, Hermione! You don't think-" he said, before lowering his voice to a mock-whisper. "You don't think this supposed electromagnet is an arc reactor?"

The girl gaped at him, completely lost.

"B-but Harry, Howard Stark's arc reactor is massive! Well, was, apparently…" she trailed off, looking back to the TV station, which had switched off the now-over conference.

"But it all makes sense 'Mione! Don't you see?" said the boy. He didn't know it, but he had his own Look that Hermione had recognised, all wide-eyed and smiling. "Where could he get so much thrust to fly in that suit? There's no space for fuel or anything like on a rocket to power it, it has to be electrical, so-"

"He's figured out repulsor tech", she finished in an awed whisper. "He's miniaturised Howard's arc reactor! Gosh, that must have taken so much effort to manage", she sighed, mind whirring with the implications.

"I'm sorry to say this, Hermione, but we're not switching off WHiH until we go back to school. I need to know if I'm right", he said, grinning like a loon. She rolled her eyes in fond exasperation.

"So the day after tomorrow?"

He didn't even honour that question with a response. He just looked at her with an expression that screamed 'Duh, what else?'

They sat, staring at the ceiling or into the distance in the usual comfortable silence that came with their sharp minds and easygoing friendship, contemplating this new world where the Iron Man was a real, living person.

"Man, it's like magic, don't you think?" said Harry in an airy tone, breaking the silence after a few minutes. Hermione gave a short giggle in response and grew silent again.

A beat of silence.

Harry could feel Hermione shooting out of her seat and gasping, rounding on him to face him again.

Harry's bemused expression vanished upon seeing his friend's face, mirroring the little 'o' her mouth was forming.

"Harry."

"Yes, Hermione, I just thought the exact same thing", he said, in the most deadpan tone he could muster as to not gush like a schoolgirl. Harry Potter did not gush.

"You know this will probably take years", she deadpanned back.

"I really, really, can't see myself caring either way, and I highly doubt you do either."

Another beat of silence.

"Well."

"Well."

A final beat of silence.

"See you in Runes next year?"

"I take it back, Potter, you are an idiot."

"You're telling me…" began Ron, who was now rubbing circles in his temples, "...that this man has an indestructible iron suit.."

"Gold-titanium alloy" "Well, it's not really indestructible…"

"..that he can fly with. Faster than a broom?" he tried to clarify. He got an eye-roll from Hermione and an enthusiastic nod from Harry.

"Alright." His face scrunched up and he closed his eyes, trying to incorporate this new reality into his own as best as he could.

"And he shoots…lightning out of his hands?"

"No, it's high-density muon beams." "That's basically it."

Hermione shot Harry her best withering glare at his blatant over-simplification, but after a year and a half, he was well on the way to becoming immune. Dean snickered in the background of their conversation and added his two cents, as the only other muggle-born in their year.

"Think of it like a kind of blasting curse that you just turn on and keep active in one direction, Ron. God knows what these two will try to explain to you."

The girl in the duo swivelled and directed her glare at the other boy, who did wince and whistled in mock nonchalance.

"What we did think of, though", said Harry, leaning in and drawing back the attention of their little group. "Is that pure-blooded wizards…well, most pure-blooded wizards…" he continued, glancing at Ron. "...are idiots. Not one ounce of logic between all of them here in Britain."

Ron grimaced but didn't object. He, like everyone else at Hogwarts, had the unfortunate privilege of meeting Lockhart.

"What this means is, with a little bit of effort…oh, shut up Hermione"; he said after a truly exceptional pair of raised eyebrows from the girl. "With a considerable bit of effort, we could, you know…build a magical Iron Man suit."

It was a study in expressions: Dean's dark eyes threatened to pop out of his head, and Ron just had a thoughtful look on his freckled face, staring into the distance. Hermione spoke up in the silence that ensued.

"What Harry's trying to say is that with all the possibilities of magic this could very well be possible, with a great amount of effort."

"Guys, I don't- I'm not brainy like you two. Art stuff, remember?" Dean said, with a burst of nervous laughter behind his voice. "And, no offence, but Ron's not exactly the second or first best-ranked student here".

"None taken", Ron muttered.

Harry grinned impishly while Hermione only showed a small smile. This certainly couldn't bode well for the other two boys.

"Let me prove to you right now that you'd be great for this, ok?" Harry said, eyes flicking from one boy to the other. "What's the most important thing about Stark's Iron Man suit? I'll start."

They all looked at each other and back at Harry.

"The energy source", he said, turning to Ron.

"Beam hands." The red-headed boy turned to Hermione, who rolled her eyes.

"I was going to say the energy source, so…flight."

Dean was frowning. He didn't notice the expectant looks the trio was giving him. And then he figured it out.

"Everything", he said breathlessly. Wide-eyed, he hurried to look at all of them and explain himself. "Harry, you won't know how to use the energy source without everything else, how to regulate it. Sure you have your fancy battery, but then what? And without making everything else at the same time it falls flat. You can't make rocket boots and power it with your magic for testing. You're going for a suit that does everything for you."

Harry just stared blankly at him for a few seconds. He then threw his head back and laughed maniacally.

"Now I'm worried we'll turn you into a supervillain", said Hermione under her breath.

Once he was done cackling, Harry explained his plan.

"This is exactly what I thought. Hermione, you and I will get too caught up in the details. Don't deny it, no doubt we can figure certain, single things out in good time", he said, stopping her from interrupting, causing her to cross her arms and huff. "But this is where you two shine. Ron doesn't have limitations where imagination is concerned since he's had magic in his life since he was born, so we muggle-raised don't get stuck in all the science. And Dean, you just proved my other point. You'll help us make the connections where we don't see them."

At Dean's slightly confused frown, Harry put the final piece in place.

"Not to be an arse." Hermione just snorted. Harry shot her a glare. "But we three aren't the most creative or open-minded people".

"Hey!" "Wha?"

"I didn't even think about half of what you just said. I was going to run off and research some kind of battery or magic generator to scrounge up", Harry admitted sheepishly, rubbing the back of his neck.

Dean blinked owlishly, seemingly lost for words.

"Oh, and obviously you'll design and paint the suit. I'm absolutely pants with colours if you haven't noticed.

Dean snorted while Ron and Hermione laughed.

"Deal."

A sudden bang made Dean, Ron and Harry jump in their seats. They looked up from the assignments they were working on in the library to find a mutinous Hermione staring down at them, hands splayed over a thick volume on the table.

"It's a bloody basilisk."

Ron rapidly paled, Dean looked a bit lost and Harry narrowed his eyes dangerously. None of them even addressed Hermione's rare use of swearing.

"Is a basilisk the ruddy huge snake I'm thinking of, Hermione?"

Dean's eyes widened in sudden realization.

"Why yes, Harry, a basilisk is a gigantic snake. Which so happens to kill upon locking eyes with its prey, live for centuries if not millennia, and has the most dangerous venom in the world"

"Alright. Walk me through it", demanded the raven-haired boy. He leaned back on his chair on two legs until it was resting on the wall.

This was a normal occurrence. Between the two of them there was an understanding that when something truly outlandish was being suggested, they would listen to each other with no biases or preconceptions. It was another little thing the boy from the cupboard treasured. Someone to trust and listen to in any circumstance.

"I'm terribly sorry, Harry. We doubted you on Samhain, but…the logical conclusion is that what you heard in the walls was the basilisk since you're a Parselmouth. That's why none of us heard it. Plus, from every scene of the attacks, spiders run away in droves, since it's rumoured they fear it above all else."

"The voices…the voices right before the attacks, Harry!", Ron managed to croak out.

"And for something this massive to go undetected?" she asked rhetorically. "Considering each attack has been in front or around a bathroom…"

"..it's using the pipes to get around", finished Dean in a kind of detached, defeated voice.

"It's a miracle no one has spotted it or where it's entered the castle from," mused Harry. He was staring into the middle distance, furiously thinking. He cut that line of thought and asked probably the most important question in his mind.

"If it kills when it looks at something in the eye, why is no one dead?"

No one had anything to say to that. Harry could see Hermione was mightly miffed about not knowing this particular answer.

Dean was absently fiddling with his inkpot, while everyone else had grim expressions. They saw the moment Dean was hit by an idea like a lorry. He sat up straight and like in their discussion earlier in the year, wrapped it all up with a creative breakthrough.

"Because no one's seen it directly. Outside Myrtle's bathroom, Mrs Norris saw it in the flooded hallway." He looked up from his inkpot, and oh did it feel good to have another person develop the Look. Harry knew Dean was going to be an invaluable friend. Despite the grim circumstances, he had a small grin and a calculating gleam in his eyes.

"Colin, he…saw it through his camera. That's why it melted when Dumbledore opened it, Harry. And Justin…" he trailed off, thoughtful frown in place, but it disappeared quickly. "Sir Nick. He saw it through a ghost, and Sir Nick can't die twice."

They all looked at each other, wide-eyed. Harry felt a sharp surge of fondness for these three people and vowed to himself to keep them safe.

"Well, I definitely don't want to cut down research hours because of one inconvenient thousand-year-old basilisk. You?"

None of the groaning, sighing or mumbling Gryffindors noticed the streak of red hair darting away from their hiding spot behind the shelves.

He'll beat you. You won't win.

Foolish girl. I have already won. You're just too naive to notice.

No! What have you done!?

Your soul is mine, Ginny.