CHAPTER TWO
Summary: When Hermione's contract with SHIELD is sold to Stark Industries and she's traded like she's prized cattle, she is far from pleased. But then, she meets the notorious man for herself and she finds herself thinking that perhaps, it wasn't all that bad a trade.
Disclaimer: All original characters and canon events belong to J.K. Rowling and Marvel. Non-canon events and characters are my own. I am not making any profit from posting this fanfic. Characters are likely to be OOC. This takes place after Iron Man 2, and I will be taking liberties with the timeline/ canon events. Rated for language, violence and sexual content.
AN
I was not expecting such a positive response to this one and I'm so glad that you enjoyed the first chapter. And I agree, there really isn't enough fics with this pairing and they do have the potential to be perfect for one another.
Q&A
KyloRen'sgirl213 – I loved reading that one, too. I believe it's called, Bewitched by You by the author Freya Ishtar and she's really good!
SorrowfulAnjel – This is a multi-chapter fic, I'm just not sure how many chapters it will take to complete it. I'm aiming for about ten, but I've written about half of that in chapters and I'm not sure I'm going to be able to incorporate everything I want into it without going over, so it is likely there will be more.
Meldz – Pepper will be making an appearance or two, but she won't be a main or recurring character.
DeathDagger - Exactly! But obviously not literally, Hermione might just have a heart attack if she's forced to physically fly!
TimeRose - Thank you! Tony is a very difficult character to write and I always struggle trying to balance his kindness, genius, arrogance and childishness.
LadyPhoenix98 – The previous chapter was just an introduction, this chapter is where you'll get most of your answers.
Page count: 12
Friday had arrived far sooner than Hermione realised and with it brought the dinner plans she had with her new boss, Tony Stark.
She didn't know what to make of him, all she knew of him she'd learned from the file Fury had given her to examine before she'd left, and despite it being quite hefty in weight, it hadn't been all that helpful to her.
She hadn't seen him since late Monday evening when he'd popped by her lab to quickly give her the security access codes, key card and her contract, as well as to retrieve her required resources list, something that had been marginally small given that most of her equipment was wizarding made and something she'd have to acquire herself.
The next day when she arrived at Stark Tower and stepped into her lab, she'd found boxes waiting to be unpacked. When her lunch hour arrived, she made a visit into Wizarding New York, needing to pick up some equipment and supplies and by Wednesday, the majority of her lab was complete with the exception of one or two items which had been ordered and she was waiting for delivery. Thursday, she'd allotted herself the time to go in search of an apartment as SHIELD had provided funds which only covered her staying in a hotel for two weeks and once it passed, she had to pay her own bills and she wasn't willing to continue paying for a hotel room when she could hopefully find a property to rent for approximately the same price.
When Friday arrived, in all honesty, Hermione had thought Tony had forgotten about dinner (which was understandable given how busy he was) and when it had grown dark outside and reached nine-thirty, she turned off the lights to her lab, hung her coat over her arm and stepped into the lift.
As she leaned against the wall in exhaustion, having been in her lab for fourteen hours that day, she watched as the lights on the keypad indicated which level she was on until she stepped out on the ground floor. She made her way to the door just as Tony stepped through, sporting a black tailored suit, a white shirt and a black tie, his attention being on the device in his hands and he almost walked straight into her.
"Heading home, Granger?" Tony questioned.
"It is Friday night, Tony," she replied, arching an eyebrow, waiting for the penny to drop.
He blinked slowly, his eyes searching her face. "Oh, Friday, right. Shit! I said we'd have a meeting over dinner, didn't I?"
"You did," she confirmed amusedly.
"Right, let's go then," he nodded, making to turn around and leave out the door.
She cleared her throat, drawing his attention and she pointedly looked down at herself, bringing note to her casual blue skinny jeans, white converse and black t-shirt. His eyes darted to his own attire, realising that he wasn't dressed for an informal dinner and she wasn't dressed for the opposite.
"Ah, give me five minutes," he nodded in understanding.
Not giving her the opportunity to reply, he strode towards the lift and disappeared behind the doors. She decided to wait for him outside and exactly seven minutes later, he exited the building wearing jeans, trainers and a t-shirt with a jacket grasped in his hand. She'd been expecting him to summon a car but he surprised her when he walked off down the street and she had to speed up her steps in order to catch up to him.
They journeyed in silence until they came to a quiet diner not far from Stark Industries and when they took seats at a corner booth, Hermione was impressed when the waitress managed to take their order without simpering over Tony, but judging by their interactions, she assumed Tony frequented the diner often. When their food arrived, Tony asked her how her first week had gone and if she had finished setting up her lab, of which, she answered appropriately, and with 'shop talk' out of the way, he said,
"Ask me?" He prompted, leaning back against the cushioned leather seat of the booth.
"Ask you what?" She frowned in confusion.
"There's something bothering you, I can see it," he said knowingly.
She leaned back in her seat, too. He was observant, she'd give him that.
"Very well. Why did you request me? Fury told me that I couldn't work on my assignment at headquarters as you had requested me specifically. He informed me that you hacked into the mainframe and looked through my file."
"I was bored and I wanted to prove a point," he shrugged, showing no remorse for what he'd done. "They need better security, something I've been saying for weeks; I was simply pointing out their weaknesses, which is everything. They'd seriously benefit by asking me to upgrade their systems," he said confidently.
"That didn't answer my question. Why did you request me?" She repeated.
He watched her in intrigue. "You're the best in your field," he said simply.
"And what field would that be?" She quirked her eyebrow in challenge, knowing that her job title and achievements weren't on record. In fact, there wasn't much on her at all, if only her name, date of birth, place of birth and a few other minuscule details, some which may or may not have been fabricated.
"The scientific kind," he quipped. She smirked at him. "Fine, I was curious," he admitted. "I was able to find more information on Fury than I was on you, and generally, I wouldn't have paid any mind to your file on their system but the security surrounding your file was more difficult to decode. The fact that you, a seemingly unimportant employee, had more protection and less information than Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD, was far too inviting."
"You can't bear not knowing things, can you?" It was more of a statement than an actual question.
"What are you hiding that requires you to have better security than Fury?" He leaned forward, his arms settling on the table and his eyes narrowed slightly.
She contemplated her options. At some point in time, she was going to be working alongside the Avengers and they'd likely know her secret by then, as the devices she would have created wouldn't have been done so through the latest technology but rather magic. Tony Stark was a candidate for the Avengers, so there was an option to tell him now so if the time came, he could vouch for her and help to sway the others if they had an issue with her magic abilities. But he was a terrible secret keeper, case and point, the reveal of him being Iron Man. On live TV. With millions of people watching. To the entire world.
"I'm not exactly an agent of SHIELD in the sense that I represent them," she began, her brow furrowing in thought as she wondered how to word it without lying but without telling him everything. Her teeth sunk into her lip and eyes crinkled. "It's true that I am, or was rather, on their payroll, but my loyalties weren't solely to them."
"How did Fury feel about that?"
"I don't particularly care how he felt about it, he knew when I joined SHIELD that I did it to protect my people."
"Your people?" He echoed, his eyes brightening. "As in tea-loving, crumpet-munching, stick up the ass Brits?" He jibed.
"Your perception of the British is awful. I'll have you know that not everyone likes tea or crumpets, nor does every Brit have a stick stuck up their arse. That's an awful stereotype," she scowled at him and he simply shrugged, unbothered. "We have deprived areas and poor families, we have homeless people and stray animals. We have the rich and poor. We can suffer abuse and mistreatment just as you can. And in response to your question, not exactly. I have my own people. When SHIELD discovered our existence, I was sent as a buffer of sorts, and a part of the peace treaty and alliance included that I work for SHIELD. There is no information on me or my people on record anywhere, and there are only a handful of people that know of us. Where I come from, I am highly accomplished. I am a fully licensed medical doctor and I have a master's in four other fields of work, the highest achievements possible, and I am unable to reveal them to you."
"Why won't you tell me?" He all but pouted.
"The safety of my people is paramount, if the world were to discover our ways and customs, it would end in bloodshed as a war would break out and nothing good comes from war." Her voice quietened as she finished her sentence, looking down at the table as she felt memories being dragged from the box she had locked them all away in and to the front of her mind. She shook her head and looked back up at him. "I don't think I can trust you to keep my secret, or the secret of my people if I were to reveal it to you."
"I'm great at keeping secrets," he argued.
"It's true, I am Iron Man," she deadpanned and he scowled at her. "You're rubbish and I can't take that risk."
"I don't understand why you've been given better security than Fury."
"That's because you don't know what it is I'm hiding from you," she shrugged. "I will impart this information on you though," she said and he leaned further forward, his arms crossed on the table. "I have knowledge and abilities that allow me to be a candidate for the Avengers Initiative."
His eyes widened and his interest was piqued further.
"I assume you know Agent Coulson?" She said and Tony nodded, quickly motioning for her to continue with a wave of his hand. "For almost two years, he's been trying to persuade me to join the Avengers so that when they are called, I will be a part of the team. I decline every time."
"Why?" His brow furrowed and he tipped his head, watching her closely.
"The Avengers will benefit from what I am able to do," she admitted, "But I won't. It won't be a good environment for me."
He cocked an eyebrow when she didn't elaborate further and he leaned back in his seat, understanding that was all she wished to speak on the matter and pushing further would be useless.
"And now that I'm in your employment, I've spent the week setting up my lab and you have no idea of my true skill set or qualifications, what exactly is it you employed me to do?" She folded her hands beneath her chin and set her chin atop, lifting both eyebrows slightly.
"What did you do for SHIELD?" He probed.
She pursed her lips in thought, "Well, you could say that I was an analyst."
"Of?" He prompted.
"I can't tell you."
He gave her an unhappy expression. "Well, you're a licensed doctor, right? When I get banged up after a testing phase goes wrong or I'm bloodied and bruised after I've been out in my suit, you could patch me up, save me the time of going to the hospital," he shrugged.
"I'm quite certain you have the best doctors in the country on your payroll as private physicians," she pointed out.
"Yeah, but you're one floor below me, much easier than having to summon one of them and wait hours for them to arrive."
"Fair enough," she nodded. "However, that's only when you're injured, and what am I to do with the rest of my time?"
"You have a lab, something Fury said was a requirement. Use it, do whatever it was you were doing for SHIELD," he shrugged.
"I can't, I'm not in that business anymore as it was specific to them and their requirements. But I am working on a few projects that once successfully completed, could change the very field of medicine," she confessed
"Not going to elaborate on that?"
"No."
He sighed, running a hand through his hair.
"So, what in your SHIELD file is true?" He questioned.
She shrugged. "I was born and raised in London, England. I am thirty-one-years-old and I am one of the highest achievers and so-called brightest minds to have come from my people in centuries. I frequently have job offers arriving at my door and it takes me more time to decline them than it does to read the offers because they're determined not to take no for an answer, and no matter the incentives, I still decline."
"I noticed you didn't mention a boyfriend," he commented offhandedly.
Both eyebrows lifted as she observed him closely. "You are correct, I didn't."
"There's no man on the scene?"
"Not anymore, no."
"That implies there was," he pointed out.
"Very clever, Tony, have you always been this observant?" She teased.
His lip twitched but he narrowed his eyes, not willing to back down.
She sighed in defeat. Well, she supposed she could tell him the truth. What was he going to do with it? Tell everyone? It's not like it would reveal anything that was meant to be kept secret.
"I was engaged a few years back," she admitted, seeing his eyes widen a fraction as he sat straight, giving her his full attention. "We met in school, we'd been best friends since I was twelve-years-old, and we started dating when I was nineteen. He proposed a year later but I turned him down. I wasn't ready for marriage, I felt that I was too young and I was putting all of my focus into my career, but the problem with Ron is that he can't take no for answer, he has the emotional range of a teaspoon."
He snorted at her, leaning further forward.
"After another year of his constant whining and remarks, I agreed to marry him, but once I had the ring on my finger, he was always making demands that I leave my career behind so we could marry and have children within a year. Ron has a very old fashioned view of the world. Men should work and women should stay home, cook and clean and look after the children. He wanted to turn me into his mother, and although she's a lovely woman, I can't and won't become what she was when he was a child, a house-wife to seven children."
He made a startled sound in the back of his throat, his eyes darting down to his hands, Hermione observing in amusement as he physically counted to seven on his fingers, his eyes widening further at the thought of having that many children in one lifetime.
"Ron wanted to marry within six months and have our first child no less than a year later and at this point, I was barely twenty-one. He said he wanted six children, minimum. The problem being, I'm not even sure I want children, or if I can have them," she added that part quietly, and she continued before he could question her, seeing as he opened his mouth to speak.
"After a while, I quit my job, not only because I grew tired of not being challenged, but because Ron was always starting arguments, as I apparently, put my work before him. So, I took a few months off to placate him but I was bored and unhappy and I couldn't deal with the sitting around on my arse or the cooking and cleaning of the apartment, so I started my masters. By the time I reached twenty-four, things between Ron and I weren't great. My studies took me travelling the world for weeks at a time and he hated that I was spending more time with his eldest brother than I was him, given that he was my mentor for one of my masteries. On the eve of our fifth anniversary, I discovered that he'd been cheating on me, for God knows how long, and it wasn't one separate occurrence, nor just one woman." He blinked, remaining silent. "It didn't take me as long to get over it as I thought it would, seeing as I had the support of his family; they'd taken my side on the matter, he has four older brothers and a younger sister, and seeing as Ron's mother and father practically raised me growing up, they see me as their little sister," she shrugged.
"You said there were seven children?" He frowned. "You only mentioned six."
She smiled sadly. "Yes, Ron had five older brothers, Bill, Charlie, Percy and the twins, Fred and George. When I was eighteen, Fred died. It took us all a while to come to terms with it. The twins are ingenious when it comes to practical jokes and they quit school before graduating to set up their own business, which is now highly successful," she boasted. "Growing up, the twins would always target me because I was an easy victim for them and they knew that I would give them honest feedback on the products they created. When Fred died, it took us years to move on, worst of all, poor George, who was lost without his twin. Bill had to step in to run the business for a while whilst George grieved. He even cut and dyed his hair at one point because when he looked in the mirror, all he saw was Fred. But he's doing well for himself now, he's married and got a daughter and I received word a few days ago he's expecting his second child," she shrugged.
"There's been no one else since?"
"Not really, any relationship after Ron didn't last longer than a few months. Apparently, I spend too much time working, I'm too intimidating and I come with a large, interfering family, one of which, is my best friend and brother in everything but blood and has been since I was twelve, several sisters-in-law, and very overprotective older brothers. When they found out that Ron had betrayed me the way he did, he was in hospital for a week. They beat up their own little brother for me." She held back a laugh at his surprised expression. "So, that's my background..."
"No, it's not," he interrupted. "I hacked every database in existence... FBI, CIA, MI5 and 6, GCHQ, Interpol, SHIELD, NSA, Mossad, MOD, DOD, NIS, SIS, FIC, KGB..."
"Was shutdown in 1991," she injected, lazily sipping her beverage through a straw. "And that's a lot of letters. Do you think they pick randomly from the alphabet and then decide the acronyms?"
He scowled at her. "My point being, I hacked every database and spy organisation known to exist and some thought to exist, and d'you know what I found on you? Nothing! Zip! Nada!" He exclaimed, waving his hands about madly, something she found quite comical, especially paired with his wide eyes. "You didn't exist until I discovered your highly secret and annoyingly empty file in SHIELD'S database. Even with the information I did have regarding your name, place and date of birth, I found no evidence of your existence. And I had Jarvis confirm the results. Twice!"
"Really?" She questioned in surprise. "Hmmm, that's interesting," she mused.
"Interesting?" He pushed.
"Yes, because I assure you, I most definitely do exist, I'm sitting before you now as we speak. And as I said before, my name is Hermione Granger, my date of birth is 19th September 1979, and I was born and raised in London, England."
"I have to disagree," he propped his chin atop his clasped hands. "There's no school record, medical record, social security number, bank account, not even a library card. I can't even find a damn birth certificate and that means I've no idea who your birth parents are and I can't search any database for their existence either."
"National insurance number," she corrected.
"What?"
"We call it a national insurance number, not a social security number."
"Whatever," he rolled his eyes. "You get my point."
"Well, I attended nursery and primary school in Richmond, London and once I reached the age of eleven, I was transferred to a highly secret and secure boarding school for children with special talents."
"You're a boarding school brat?" His eyebrow arched, his eyes lighting with interest. "That doesn't surprise me."
"That depends on your definition of a boarding school brat," she shrugged, reaching for a cold fry from her mostly empty plate and biting half of it, despite being full. "I wasn't sent away because my parents had money, because they wanted me out of the way or because they worked so much and they barely saw me. In fact, in the beginning, they didn't wish for me to attend, they wanted me to remain home, they even considered home school education. I had to beg them to let me go, and with the help of my then deputy headmistress, we were able to convince them. I suppose I understand; I was expected to be away thirty-eight weeks of the year for a total of seven years. That's a lot of missed parenting and bonding opportunities."
His head tipped slightly, "And what was your special talent?"
Her mouth twitched. "You wouldn't believe me if I told you."
"I would," he protested.
"You'll faint," she sang.
"I won't!" He sat taller.
"You will," she said confidently. "My parents did."
His brow furrowed. "This highly secret school... The name?"
"You won't have heard of it."
"Try me," he challenged.
"Hogwarts."
His expression fell before pulling into a scowl and she sniggered, reaching for her beverage and sipping from the straw, her gaze locked with his.
"Heard of it?" She questioned, putting her beverage aside.
He looked to be contemplating giving her the two-finger salute.
"No," he admitted. "What kind of stupid name is that?"
"I didn't name it, and I did say it was highly secret," she shrugged lazily.
"Not for long," he promised.
"You won't find mention of it in any database."
"Watch me," he arrogantly lifted his chin.
Her mouth twitched. "I'm telling you, it's a waste of time."
"I'll focus my search on the UK, mostly England based databases."
"It won't work," she sang.
"Why's that?"
"Firstly, I didn't attend boarding school in England, and secondly, Hogwarts isn't very tech-savvy."
"Meaning?"
"Meaning, they don't use or require technological databases. They use the good old system of hard copies and paper files."
He frowned in disappointment. "I can hack into a space station, search for buildings large enough to be considered a boarding school and eliminate properties owned by..."
"Nope," she interrupted, popping the 'p'. "Hogwarts is cleverly disguised from all satellite stations due to its surroundings of thick and dense forests."
He visible perked. "You don't say," he mused. "Well, perhaps I might hack into the power grid and search for high power usage in rural areas. A boarding school with so many students is likely to have a high electrical usage rate, and when I find that, I can hack into the Wi-Fi, see what the kiddies are up to."
Hermione smirked as she fiddled with the straw in her half-empty glass. "Good plan," she nodded, "However, Hogwarts has a strict no-technology policy."
"What?" He spluttered.
"Yep, due to the rural surroundings, there is terrible reception and as such, there is no use for phones. If students wish to converse with parents, they must write a letter. There is also a ban on TV, computers and laptops and video game consoles, as it removes the temptation of distraction and allows for work productivity. I should also mention, there is no WI-FI, not even for the professors."
"No internet," he whispered, looking horrified at the thought.
"No internet," she confirmed with a nod. "All classwork, homework and exams must be completed on paper, and all research must be sourced from books provided in the library or books that are specifically ordered from the book shop in the nearby village."
"What kind of Hell is this place?" His voice rose slightly in horror.
"School," she offered, highly amused by his reaction. "It wasn't that bad," she shrugged. "The school library was vast, the grounds included a lake and sports pitch, in which inter-school sports competitions were held. We had board and card games, snowball fights in the winter, water fights when it grew warm, and we were allowed to visit the nearby village for shopping and socialising one weekend of every month, so long as we had permission from our parents and were above third-year."
"No internet," he whispered to himself, seeming to not have heard what she'd just said.
"Yes, Tony, no internet," she rolled her eyes.
"Torture. That's torture. They should be reported to... Whoever it is that's in charge of child welfare in schools!"
She snorted. "You're very dramatic."
"Dramatic, I'm not dramatic," he argued. "No internet, that's torture."
"You get used to it," she shrugged.
"That's not possible," he protested. "No internet."
"You seem fixated on this," she observed.
"No internet!" He exclaimed. "How are you not bothered by that?"
"It doesn't bother me, technology hates me."
"Yeah, 'cause you were tortured through the withholding of technology. That's a crime! It's no wonder you have bad tech juju. You don't know how to use it."
"That's not entirely true, I know how to use technology to do simple tasks such as complete an online search or do online shopping, but anything else... Well, it's not pretty. Luckily, I don't require such aspects in my work."
"And that is?" He perked up.
"I'm not telling you," she chirped.
"You work for me. I pay your wage and it's my building."
"It's my lab, remember? You said so yourself," she shrugged. "And I didn't ask you to steal me from my comfortable life at SHIELD. Your curiosity got the best of you. You should've known that I wouldn't reveal the nature of my work for SHIELD, or my current projects, more than I have, at least."
"Which I'm bankrolling. Come on, I'm paying for it, tell me what I'm paying for," he pleaded.
"No."
"Well, that decides it."
"Decides what?" She arched an eyebrow.
He leaned back and folded his arms over his chest. "I don't like you."
She snorted. "For a genius, billionaire, philanthropist, you're quite childish."
"You forgot playboy, and I'm not childish."
"Your behaviour says otherwise," she argued, having to suppress a yawn that came out of nowhere.
"You're tired," he commented.
"No, I'm fine."
His eyebrow quirked. "Why do you work so many hours?"
"Excuse me?" She questioned, caught off guard.
"Monday, you worked ten hours, Tuesday thirteen, Wednesday twelve and today fourteen. That's forty-nine hours, more than the expected and you'd taken Thursday off."
"You said forty minimum," she pointed out.
He shrugged. "That's only because ninety-eight percent of my employees work nine to five, Monday to Friday, it's always quieter on the weekends."
"I don't know if I should be concerned or flattered that you're keeping track of my work schedule."
"Not on purpose, as you requested the disenabling of the security cameras and audio, I had to up the security at the access point. I get a notification every time the lab's accessed or is attempted to be accessed, which means I can see when you start and when you clock out. It's easier to keep track of my employees' monthly schedule so they're paid for the hours they're owed, and of course, Jarvis takes care of all of that. Speaking of wages, you don't have a bank account..."
"I take payment in cash."
He arched an eyebrow. "That's a lot of dough to be walking around with."
"I have my own banking system," she shrugged. "In fact, before SHIELD, I struggled to maintain a full-time job because I was easily bored, and as such, I often took free-lance work on the side when I was completing my masters, and payment wasn't always monetary."
"That makes no sense," he said.
"Maybe not to you," she shrugged. "Sometimes, I accepted free-lance work from people that couldn't afford my services, and make no mistake, I am good at what I do and I do come with a hefty bill for those that can afford it. And those that couldn't, well, sometimes I'd take payment in the form of an I owe you, a favour. Once, someone even baked me cupcakes once a week for an entire year. You know, a few years ago, someone actually offered to buy me a house as payment."
"And what do you expect from me?" His mouth quirked at the corner.
She rolled her eyes, knowing the turn his mind had taken.
"You can afford my services, Mr. Billionaire, even if you don't know what it is you're paying for. But, I suppose I'm not opposed to a slice of white chocolate cheesecake or a slice of red velvet cake, if you're feeling generous."
"You'd take an entire month's wage in the form of a cheesecake?" He gave her a look that clearly said he thought her mentally unstable.
"You can't beat a good cheesecake," she argued. "I'm not money driven. Knowledge. That's my payment. I know I need money to survive and to fund my research and experiments, but I can live without the finer things in life. And that's why I work so many hours. Because I like it."
"You're messed up in the head, aren't you?"
It was supposed to be teasing, she knew, but in that moment, he didn't know how right he was.
She offered a sad smile. "You've no idea."
