CHAPTER NINE
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 hadn't meant for this chapter to be so long and neither did I intend for things to happen the way they did in regards to the George/Hermione interactions, but this chapter took on a life of its own and I couldn't stop it. And this took me 3 days to write.
Also, this is not going to be complete by 10 chapters, as I'd hoped. I don't know why I bother giving estimated completion dates and deadlines anymore. And I'm still trying to work out a few details with progressing through the MCU plot points and potentially up to Endgame, without making this a crazy long novel-length fic. But I can't make any promises on who might appear in the future.
Are we ready for some protective Tony?
Q&A
Gin-Sensu – Yes, this is set after Iron Man 2, I've shifted the timeline back by a year. So at the beginning of Avengers, we see the Tower mostly built, but because I've shifted everything back by one year, it's already built. I hope that makes sense.
JeSuisMewmew – It's coming soon.
Meldz – Yes, we'll start to see the shift very soon.
Blondie95 – Tony won't be meeting the Malfoys or the others, yet at least...
LunaLovegood48 – George will meet Tony but not yet.
SmokeTinyTom – Hi, fellow Brit, it seems we share the same time zone, so when you receive the update and see the time, you know the trouble I went to to stay up late and get this finished for you all.
Gerrylynnr – Read on to find out.
Page count: 30
"Want a bite?"
Hermione grimaced and leaned away from the half-eaten cheeseburger Tony held before her face in offering.
"I don't understand how you can eat that so early in the morning, the last thing I want before ten o'clock is a cheeseburger. What's wrong with a good old fashioned McMuffin or a bowl of porridge?"
"Well, that's the last time I offer you something," Tony griped, taking a large, unnecessarily aggressive bite from his cheeseburger.
She rolled her eyes and pressed her cheek against the cool, tinted window of the privately rented armoured SUV that had been waiting for them at the private landing strip. She brought her hot tea to her mouth, happily sipping from it. It was the first British-made cup of tea she'd had in months, well, aside from herself, of course, and she was going to enjoy it.
Surprisingly, she'd slept through the majority of the flight and she'd only woken because Tony had thrown a cushion at her as they were preparing to land. She'd almost hexed him at the sudden and unexpected movement.
When she retook her seat and fastened the belt securely, she'd glared at Tony throughout the entirety of the jet landing, both for his rude method of waking her and his annoying commentary as he poked fun at her fear of flying. When they'd safely landed, he gave her a smug smile and demanded a thank you. It wasn't until that moment that she'd realised what he'd done. She'd been so annoyed with him (and had been seriously contemplating outing herself by hexing him) that she'd been distracted from her fear. Well, that and she was still a little groggy with sleep.
After Sally was caught and put in her carrier, Hermione had gladly been the first one off the jet, having to restrain herself from being one of those people that got down onto their knees and kissed the ground in relief.
Happy ushered her and Tony into the car, collected their luggage and off they set away from Heathrow Airport, successfully avoiding any potential fans or press that may have gotten word of the jet being spotted landing, and it was hard to miss with Tony's name being adorned on the jet. Tony being desperate for a cheeseburger and coffee, had Happy drive to the nearest McDonald's, even though that meant they'd gone out of their way, added thirty minutes to their already one hour journey into the London City Centre and they had to double back on themselves.
Still feeling queasy, she hadn't complained and gladly took the tea Happy had ordered for her, as well as the fruit bag and pot of porridge.
"How'd you even convince them to serve cheeseburgers? They only serve the breakfast menu before half-ten."
"Billionaire," he shrugged, balling the empty wrapper up and putting in the paper bag before removing a second cheeseburger and making a start on it.
Hermione was just grateful they'd managed to escape the drive-thru without them being caught on camera, only now, she was certain word would spread across social media that Tony was in the country, which meant she was expecting the press to catch them at some point.
"It's good for you."
"You're talking to a doctor," she deadpanned. "Cheeseburgers are not good for you, especially the amount you eat and certainly not for breakfast. I dread to think what your cholesterol level would be."
"It's fine."
"I seriously doubt that," she argued.
"Cheeseburgers are brain food."
"Porridge is brain food," she corrected. "Cheeseburgers are heart attacks."
"Don't be so dramatic," Tony rolled his eyes.
"I'm not," she protested. "And should you have a heart attack, I won't be treating you."
"That bedside manner of yours needs a little work, Doc."
"I've a fantastic bedside manner," she scowled.
Tony's mouth twitched into a smirk and he arched an eyebrow. "Really? Tell me more, Dr. Granger," he all but purred, wriggling his eyebrows suggestively.
"You don't deserve to know," she pursed her lips and turned her eyes away from him and to the busy motorway, watching the cars and coaches they passed during their travel, ignoring his sniggers.
"I never asked, where are you staying?"
"With my friend," she answered. "I sold my flat when I was sent to work with SHIELD, I didn't see the point in keeping it knowing it would hardly be used and I would be too busy to visit often enough to warrant keeping it."
"If you give me the address, I'll add it to the GPS and drop you off," Happy offered from the driver's seat.
"Don't worry about it," she told him. "I've already arranged transportation, it should be waiting when we get into the city," she lied. "But thank you for the offer, Happy."
Tony eyed her curiously but didn't comment further. "Well, if you need me for anything, you've got my number. If you can't get through, I'm staying in the Royal Penthouse at the Corinthia."
"Of course you are," she replied, completely unsurprised at the news he would be staying at one of the most expensive hotels in London, never mind the most expensive suite, too. Tony only wanted the best no matter the cost. Even if that cost was twenty-five thousand a night.
"I'll have you added to my VIP list, so you shouldn't have any issues."
"And you have my number in cases of emergency, but I must warn you that where I'm staying, reception is terrible and I'm unlikely to receive any calls or messages unless I'm in the city centre. I always take the children for a visit whenever I'm back, so I'll get them at some point. And please, don't do anything stupid."
"You heard the doctor, Happy. Don't do anything stupid."
Hermione pinched the bridge of her nose.
What was she unleashing on her beloved city?
~000~000~000~
Cat carrier in hand and luggage shrunken down in her pocket, Hermione stared up at the dark brickwork of Grimmauld Place. Whilst the outside remained the same, she knew the inside had changed dramatically over the years, Harry all but tearing everything down and starting from scratch, creating a warm and welcoming townhouse that would house his growing family.
Taking a breath and praying to Merlin that Ron wasn't inside, she climbed the steps and opened the door, the wards recognising her magical signature and allowing her unobstructed access.
She'd barely closed the door behind her when she was assaulted, almost losing her footing as she stumbled back and barely managed to catch herself on the nearby coat stand. Laughing, she set the cat carrier on the ground and folded her arms around the three children, two with a mop of dark hair that reminded her so much of Harry's, and the other fiery-red bed hair that had yet to be brushed or styled.
"I missed you all very much."
"We missed you, too," said James, the soon-to-be nine-year-old peering up at her with eyes that were almost identical to his father's.
"Goodness, I can't believe how tall you've grown," she remarked, blinking in surprise when she realised his head almost came up to her shoulder.
"Look, Aunt 'Mione," Albus drew her attention, the six-year-old grinning up at her and showing gaps in his teeth. "I lost another tooth," his dark eyes sparkled excitedly, something he'd gotten from his mother. "The tooth fairy came last night, she gave me a galleon."
"Wow," Hermione nodded, impressed. "That's very generous, your tooth fairy must be rich. Mine only gave me sickles."
"Aunt 'Mione, I draw you a picture," said Lily, raising her hand and showing the parchment she had gripped in her fist.
Taking it from the four-year-old, Hermione glanced down at the crinkled parchment, seeing a child's colourful drawing, something she assumed was meant to be a picture of her, Sally, Lily and her brothers playing in the garden.
"I love it," Hermione exclaimed. "It's the best picture I've ever seen and you know what? This is getting framed and going on my wall in my lab."
The green-eyed redhead giggled and beamed proudly.
"Come here," Hermione reached down and scooped her Goddaughter off her feet, setting her on her hip and pressing a dramatic kiss to her cheek, Lily laughing and trying to push Hermione away from her.
"Okay, dad's turn."
Lifting her eyes from the laughing children surrounding her, Hermione's smile softened when she spotted Harry stood at the end of the hallway, casually leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, watching her reunion with his children.
"Hey, Harry."
"That's all I get?" He arched an eyebrow. "What are we? Cousins that hate each other?"
Her mouth twitching, Hermione set Lily on the ground, placed her drawing on the side table and approached Harry, the wizard pushing away from the wall and meeting her halfway, pulling her into a hug as soon as she was close enough to do so.
"You've been gone far too long," he muttered.
"I know, my only excuse is that I've been really busy."
"Kingsley told me what happened with your contract, care to explain?"
"I will, later," she promised.
"Oi, stop hogging her. It's my turn. Move it or lose it, Potter!"
Hermione sniggered and drew back from Harry, seeing Ginny Potter stood in the doorway of the kitchen, glaring at her husband for taking too long.
"Sorry, Love," Harry wisely apologised.
Appeased, Ginny turned her eyes to Hermione, examining her closely before an excited squeal slipped past her lips and she flew at Hermione, her vibrant hair choking her and she squeezed Hermione in so tight a hug, she worried her spine had been dislodged.
"Gin, can't breathe," Hermione grumbled.
"Good, serves you right for being gone so long."
"So this is punishment?"
"Yes, you're too clever to hex," Ginny shrugged, finally relenting on her hug and drawing back from her. "There's some breakfast leftover, you want some?"
"That depends, who cooked it?"
The children giggled and Harry unsuccessfully tried to stifle his laughter as Ginny scowled at her. Whilst Ginny emulated her mother in many ways – appearance, temper, overprotectiveness, she did not have the same talent for cooking. That responsibility was left to Harry, and on days when Harry was out of town for work requirements, food was supplied from her mother and even Hermione when she'd still lived in London.
"I did," Harry promised.
"Yeah, Mum burned the eggs and bacon, even Nina wouldn't eat it," James offered with a laugh.
"Let's not make your mother mad," Harry intervened. "Come on, you haven't finished breakfast yet, it's getting cold. You can talk to your Aunt when you're finished."
"There's plenty of time," Hermione assured them. "Albus, why don't you let Sally out? She's been in her carrier for a while and I bet she's hungry."
"She can have my toast!" Lily exclaimed. "It's got jam on it."
"Then you best eat it all up before Sally steals it from your plate, quick, before she gets there before you." Hermione clapped her hands and ushered the laughing child into the kitchen, being followed by Sally, Albus and James. "So, what's the plan?" She asked knowingly as she took a seat at the kitchen table. Harry wasn't dressed in his Auror robes so she knew he didn't intend to go to the office that day.
"Given how long it's been since your last visit, I've taken a day off from work."
"And so have I," Ginny added. "And we've cancelled the nanny for the next few days. So, we thought we'd spend the day here and catch up, and tomorrow..."
"I've got the little devils all to myself," Hermione interrupted, sharing a high-five with James, Albus gave her a toothless grin and Lily smiled, milk spilling from her mouth and dribbling down her chin.
Harry chuckled and handed her a napkin. "Exactly, any idea what you might do?" He asked.
"Yes, I know exactly what we're going to do."
"But it's a secret," James said gravely.
"No mums and dads are allowed to know," agreed Albus.
"Well, it was worth a shot," Harry shrugged one shoulder, unsurprised by his sons' words.
He was never certain on what Hermione did with his children when she visited, only that they'd be out of the house early and they'd return all but asleep on their feet late in the evening, tired out from the excitement and activities she'd planned. One thing he did know, it was always in the Muggle World, Hermione wanting to avoid the press and keep his children safe whilst enjoying her time with them uninterrupted.
"If you're finished, go get changed and Lily, you need to brush your hair," said Ginny.
"I don't want to," the four-year-old scowled, folding her arms sulkily.
"She's right, little dove," Hermione nodded. "If you don't, Sally might mistake your hair for a feather duster and attack you."
Clearly not liking that idea, the little girl climbed from her chair and took her leave from the kitchen, being followed by her brothers.
"Alright, out with it. What's been going on? How are you being treated? And do I need to arrest someone?"
Hermione rolled her eyes. "No, you don't. I admit, I was furious that the decision was made without my input or knowledge, and I was wary of my new employer, but he's not so bad. He's a giant pain in the arse, super annoying and infuriatingly clever, but we get along well enough. He's like a combination of you and George."
"Dangerous," Ginny sniggered.
"Yep," Hermione nodded. "He's all grand, chaotic ideas and never before seen or thought of inventions, but despite that, there's something oddly calming about him," she shrugged. "He's an idiot but a clever idiot. He only eats because I remind him to; he's always so absorbed in his work he pays no mind to anything happening around him."
"Like you," Ginny pointed out. "And who reminds you to eat?"
"He does, most of the time. He's always preaching about self-care and that I should work fewer hours and take better care of myself... If he followed his own advice and wasn't such a hypocrite, I might listen to him. He's taken to banning me from my lab on the weekends."
"I can't imagine most bosses behaving that way," Ginny injected innocently. "Merlin knows my boss is an arsehole, always shouting at people, looking down his nose at the rest of us and demanding we work later hours."
"We've grown to be good friends," Hermione confessed. "Our relationship isn't quite employee-boss, but more. Put it this way, we had a three week long prank war and I wasn't fired."
"Who won?"
"Me, of course," she replied, looking offended. Ginny sniggered.
"More than employee-boss, huh?" Harry questioned.
Hermione rolled her eyes. "I'm not sleeping with my boss, Harry, try and be more subtle next time, yeah? Honestly, I haven't had a relationship for a few of years."
"You're not getting any younger," Ginny pointed out.
"You've never sounded more like your mother," Hermione quipped. Ginny gasped in outrage. "I'm busy with my work, trying to improve modern medicine for the muggles without breaking the Statute of Secrecy. That takes up all of my time and right now, it's my only priority. I've been on a few dates but they never panned out and I grew bored of trying," she shrugged. "I'm a witch, I've plenty of time to find someone should I wish to."
"Hermione, if this is because of..."
"I'm done talking about this and it has nothing to do with him, Ginny. Back off," she warned coolly.
The atmosphere in the kitchen plummeted as Hermione's usually kind features morphed into something hard and cold.
"Hermione..."
"No, it's none of your business, either of yours," Hermione snapped her eyes to Harry. "You have a family, be grateful." She stood from the table and folded her arms over her chest defensively. "Now if you don't mind, I'm going to unpack my things and check on the children."
~000~000~000~
"Dad! Look at what Aunt 'Mione got me!" James exclaimed excitedly, bounding over to his father as he stepped out of the floo and into the living room of the Burrow, having just finished his shift at the Ministry.
It was Friday evening and James' ninth birthday.
As planned, Hermione had spent the day at Grimmauld with the Potters and the following day, she'd taken the children into Muggle London, spending their time playing in the park, feeding the ducks and exploring more of the city; visiting Madame Tussauds for the first time, and despite the children having little idea as to who most of the waxworks were, that hadn't stopped them posing for photos and having fun. When they'd arrived home in the evening covered in mud and grass stains, Lily had been asleep with James and Albus barely remaining awake.
When Friday morning arrived, Hermione was woken by an over-excited James, the little wizard crying from the top of his lungs that it was his birthday whilst also jumping on her bed, jostling her about. He'd dragged her down to the kitchen where his mother and father were waiting with his presents, but halfway through breakfast, Harry was called into the Ministry for an emergency. He always made a point to put in a holiday for his children's birthdays and James had been disappointed that he wouldn't be spending the day with him.
It had taken both Hermione and Ginny to cheer him up, promising that once they'd finished breakfast, they could do whatever he wished. He'd chosen to visit Diagon Alley and when they returned after lunch, they'd gained an extra member of the family. Wednesday, James' new familiar snowy owl. Hermione only hoped she got along with Nina, Harry's eagle owl.
As they spent the remainder of the afternoon playing in the garden, when evening approached, they headed over to the Burrow when they received word Molly was ready for them. With the number of children that now filled the family outnumbering the adults, formal dinners had been replaced by buffets and children's parties, at least when it came to the birthdays for the younger generation. This meant the adults drank alcohol and nibbled at the food whilst the children spent their time running to and from the food table and outside as they played games and the older children flew their brooms.
They were the first to arrive, being followed by Bill, Fleur and their three children ten minutes later. When Percy, his wife Audrey and their two young daughters arrived, Molly deemed the buffet open, the majority of the family having arrived and knowing the rest would be by soon.
"What's this?" Harry asked his beaming son, briefly going crossed-eyed as James waved something in front of his face.
"Look! Isn't it awesome?!"
Taking the paper from him, Harry's eyes skimmed over the page, it being a receipt that confirmed both payment and a reservation being held for three weeks time.
"Bloody hell, Hermione," Harry shook his head in surprise, lifting his gaze when he felt her presence as she approached and noting that James had disappeared outside once more.
"What?" She questioned. "I thought he'd love it."
"I love it," he replied and she snorted at him. "Every kid's dream, I'm sure."
She shrugged. "Well, he's only nine once and you know I love to spoil my Godchildren. I had it reserved for three weeks time, so everyone has time to clear their calendars should they need to. I've booked the entire place out, less risk of exposure when it'll only be you lot there and the muggle staff."
"Hermione," he sighed, "I know that won't have been cheap. I had a look at the price list when the place first opened and even I wasn't willing to pay the price for the party package."
"I can afford it, you know I can," she muttered quietly.
Very few people knew of her wealth, only Ginny, Harry and surprisingly, George. He'd made one too many comments over the years about her potentially being his Sugar Momma, no matter of the fact he was happily married.
"That's not the point. I can afford it. You're careful with your money, where's this sudden change come from? It's not like you to splash the cash."
"For my Godchildren it is," she corrected.
"This guy, what's he paying you? That's the only change in your life."
"Forty thousand dollars," she admitted.
"A year? Christ, he must have money to burn."
"No, Harry," she shook her head, darting a look around her to see no one was paying any attention to them, all being otherwise distracted with their own conversations or children. "A month."
He choked. Physically choked and she reached up to slap him on the back before summoning a butterbeer from the table and handing it to him.
"Fucking hell!" He whisper-hissed, being mindful of the children darting in and out of the living room. "Forty thousand a month?"
"Yes, I've tried arguing against it but he refuses to listen to reason. He says I'm worth every penny he pays me despite having no idea what it is I'm actually working on in my lab. So, yes, I can afford to splash out this one time for my Godson. When I say I've booked the place out, I mean the entire place. The soft play area, the arcade, the go-kart track, the bowling alley, swimming pool and the petting zoo. Invite anyone you wish, his friends from his Little League Quidditch team or from his flying classes, or Lily's from her art class or even Albus' from his karate class. The more the merrier. It's all paid for so you might as well use it. You've got it from opening at eight in the morning, until closing at ten at night. Fourteen hours of fun, and it's for a Saturday."
"Hermione, really..."
"No, it's paid for in full and I can't cancel the reservation, they need a month's notice."
"Honestly, witch," he brushed his hand through his hair.
She smiled and shrugged lazily. "It'll be the best day ever and you'll always have the memories. These are things neither of us had the opportunity to do as children, and I know it's difficult for you to take them into the Muggle World with your work schedule, this is something they may never get to do again, and luckily, they have the chance to experience it all in one place."
"You're something else," he shook his head. "It's hardly fair to the other kids."
"Oh, I've got Albus' and Lily's presents already sorted. Besides, I got this not just for James but for everyone, as a way of making up for missing so many birthdays."
"Of course, you have," he rolled his eyes and she smacked him on the arm in warning. "Thank you."
"You're welcome."
"Hey, Sugar Momma!"
Harry sniggered as Hermione released a sigh and pinched the bridge of her nose. Lifting her head and turning to look over her shoulder, she spotted Fred, now three-years-old, pulling his mother's hand behind him as he led the way to the buffet. He was definitely a Weasley. He'd forgone greeting his cousins and headed straight for the food.
"It's been too long. You out working hard and raking in the dough?" George continued, a grin on his face as he approached, brushing the soot from hideous magenta robes. "This wizard could do with a new cauldron."
She rolled her eyes, ignoring Harry's chuckles.
"You're married, George," Hermione pointed out, "With an adorable toddler and baby number two on the way. Don't you think this is getting old?"
"No one's too old for a Sugar Momma," he replied. "Hey, Angie," he called, looking towards the buffet table where his pregnant wife was devouring the cheese and crackers like they were going out of fashion.
"What?" She replied, looking at him over her shoulder.
"You mind if I get me a Sugar Momma in Hermione?" He questioned, his facial expression deadly serious.
She barely batted an eyelash. "If it pays the bills? I say go for it," she shrugged. "I'm due to go on maternity leave in a few months, we could do with help paying the mortgage. In fact, Hermione, d'you wanna be my Sugar Momma?" Angie asked. "I mean, it's not as if I can get you pregnant, or vice versa, both being witches and all, not to mention, I'm already up the duff."
"Oh honestly," Hermione threw her hands up in exasperation. "You two are perfect for each other, you bloody weirdoes."
As Harry laughed loudly, he spluttered and gasped after choosing the wrong moment to swig from his butterbeer.
"I hope you choke," she said meanly before she turned and walked away.
"Sugar Momma!" George cried out in distress.
Hermione released a shriek of surprise when arms folded around her stomach, tugging her back into a hard chest.
"Don't leave me," George pouted, his head lowering until his chin sat on her shoulder and his cheek pressed against hers. "I'm nothing without your money."
"Merlin's Sake," she grumbled in annoyance, folding her arms over her chest, knowing from experience that she wasn't going anywhere until he released her. "I thought I'd escape all this."
"Never," he vowed. "So, how's my favourite millionaire doing? It's been a few weeks since your last letter."
Admittedly, she and Harry didn't talk often, not as often as they used to do before she'd moved to America. With the distance, it wasn't often she visited, they only used the phone in extreme circumstances (potential death or life-threatening injuries) and he'd never been one to enjoy writing letters. As they grew up and their lives and careers pulled them in different directions, they weren't as close as they once were but that didn't mean they loved each other any less than they used to. When she did visit, it was almost as if nothing had changed, like they were still kids at school, but when she returned home, the reality of the change in their dynamics was always a shock to her system.
But George, they'd grown closer after the war; Hermione often checking in on him, being her usual self in forcing him to eat and clearing out the empty fire whiskey bottles that littered his apartment. When she returned to Hogwarts, she made it a point to owl him at least once a week no matter of the fact he didn't respond, she hadn't even been certain he was reading them. But then one day in December, she'd received a reply. It'd only been a few words but it was progress. And from that day, his words turned into sentences, which turned into paragraphs which led to multiple pages. And from that point, they corresponded through owl a couple of times a week, the topics ranging from George's guilt and his grief, his lack of drive and motivation, him wanting to return to the shop to make Fred proud, recipe changes and alterations, even things along the lines of the best places to eat in Diagon Alley or the easiest dishes to prepare himself.
When she'd graduated and before she'd started her training as a Healer, she'd helped George in the shop with product development and finding a way to improve the recipes so production time could be halved.
And George wouldn't admit it to anyone, but Hermione had been the one to convince him to ask Angelina on a date. She'd been the one he'd gone to when he was considering proposing and she'd tagged along in his search for an engagement ring. He turned up at her flat the night before his wedding, freaking out about his impending nuptials and breaking down in a flood of tears that Fred, his best man, wasn't with him. When he'd discovered Angelina was pregnant he'd had a meltdown in her kitchen and when she'd told him the news that she was moving to America, he hadn't wanted her to leave but he'd ultimately been happy for her. When Angelina had told him she was pregnant with their second child, she was the first person he told.
Their letters, with the distance and not wishing to put any owl through the stress of such a long journey, George had learned how to use the muggle postal system. George sent her letters to a PO box in her name, and she sent his letters to her parent's house in London, where George might collect them. Anything she didn't or couldn't tell Harry, she told George.
And there were things Harry didn't know.
Big things.
George, unlike Harry, was more understanding of her circumstances and feelings. Harry could be very judgemental when he wished to be, he struggled to understand her emotions and feelings and he was more likely to take Ron's side in an argument no matter who was at fault. George was the opposite.
"I'm fine," she promised. "Better than I've been in a long time."
"And he's treating you right?"
Hermione snorted. "He's not my boyfriend, George. He's my boss and friend."
"Who you live with," he pointed out.
"That's only until my new place is built."
Seeing Fred hobbling over to her, George released her from his hold and Hermione reached down and scooped him off his feet, settling the three-year-old on her hip as he released a laugh and folded his arms around her neck.
"And when it is, you can come and visit. I'll have plenty of space. From what Tony said, the building will have its own indoor gym and swimming pool."
"I like swimming," said Fred.
"I know you do, did you like your birthday present?"
He nodded like a bobblehead.
"He didn't take them off for two weeks, it drove Angie insane," George laughed.
"You didn't come see me," the toddler pouted.
"I'm sorry, Sweetie. I was going to come and visit for the day but I had to work," she apologised.
"Fury has great timing," George remarked sarcastically. "You should've told him where to go after the way he treated you."
"He needed help," she shrugged before looking to the toddler. "I promise, I'll make it up to you. When you come to visit me at my new house, I'll take you to see the dinosaurs."
"Did you get my picture?"
"Yes, and I love it, thank you. It's on the wall in my bedroom so I can see it every day. It's the best dragon I've ever seen."
He grinned at her. "I'm hungry."
Hermione snorted. "You know what? Me too, do me a favour and steal me a chocolate biscuit from the table before your mummy eats them all."
Giggling, he nodded in agreement and when she set him on his feet, he toddled off.
"There's something I want to ask you," said George.
"And that is?" She prompted, arching an eyebrow.
"I should've asked you this a long time ago, but it didn't feel right at the time. I've been speaking with Angie and well..."
"Well?"
He shifted on his feet nervously and Hermione eyed the uncharacteristic gesture oddly.
"We want you to be the baby's Godmother, Fred's too."
She blinked in surprise; she certainly hadn't been expecting him to say that.
"It was always a given that Fred and I would be the Godfather to each other's kids, and you've always been the only candidate for Godmother, but it didn't feel right asking you when Freddie's not here. But now Fred's getting older and there's another on the way, Angie and I need to get our affairs sorted should anything happen to us. And you, I trust you with my life, but more importantly, I trust you with my kid's lives. You've done a lot for me over the years, more than most, and I promise this is the last thing I'll ask of you, but I know should anything happen, you'll keep my kids safe, you'll give them the best life possible and you'll love them. I know it's a big ask and I have no right in asking this, especially since you've already got three Godchildren but..."
"George," she interrupted, "It's not a big ask and you have every right to ask me. Of course, I'll do it."
His relief and joy were evident as he pulled her into a hug.
"Thank you," he muttered. "But I have to admit, I already had the paperwork filed this morning, hoping you'd say yes. Expect an owl with the forms when you get back to New York."
She laughed at him. "I'll tell you what, before I head back, I'll make a detour to the Ministry and do it all in person, I have to see Kingsley anyway."
"You're the best." Pulling back from her, he looked over at Angelina who was now perched on the couch with a platter of sandwiches in hand. "Angie, our kids have got a Sugar Momma!"
"Wonderful, I knew she wouldn't refuse!"
Hermione sighed in annoyance and pushed her hair back from her face.
Grinning, he looked to her once more. "There's something else."
"What now? And should I be on the lookout?"
"Nah, I haven't had a chance to booby trap anything today, been too busy," he shrugged. "Expect fireworks later, though. Anyway... It's a girl."
"Excuse me?" She spluttered.
He beamed, his turquoise eyes glittering. "It's a girl. It's why we were late, had an appointment at St. Mungo's, you see? I wanted you to know before we tell the others later."
"That's amazing," she smiled. "I know you wanted a girl but were worried about the Weasley curse of only having boys."
"Mum was determined to get her girl, no matter how many redheads she had to pop out," he agreed. "Angie doesn't have the patience to wait that long."
Hermione laughed, briefly having her attention drawn when Fred appeared by her side, holding a chocolate biscuit out in offering.
"Goodness! You, little man, are my hero!" She cried, sweeping him off his feet and onto her hip before taking the proffered biscuit and slipping it into her mouth, the toddler giggling at her antics.
"When can I come see you?"
"Not for a while yet, I'm afraid. My house is being built from the beginning and it takes a long time. But, it should be done when you're four."
"I come then?"
"Yes, and you'll have a little brother or sister to come with you. Maybe even mummy and daddy might come."
"Angie hasn't got the patience for a city that big with all the foot traffic, she'd smack someone if they got in her way," George pointed out and Hermione laughed. "But me? Hell yeah I'm coming, can't keep me away."
The floo roaring to life drew their attention and Hermione's face fell immediately upon the sight of Hugo and Rose being escorted by their father, one, Ronald Weasley. Hermione wasn't even certain she could remember the last time she'd spoken to him. In fact, when was the last time they'd even been in the same room?
"If he starts, I'll smack him for you," George swore. "I'm hoping he has more sense than to say something at a kid's party. Ginny'll go mental."
"If he's been drinking..."She trailed off.
"He's spiralling," George agreed. "I don't think he knows that I know but I saw him last week with another woman."
"He's cheating on Millie?" She whisper-hissed.
"No, I haven't had the chance to tell you, he and Millie are getting a divorce, they've been separated for about six months but he didn't tell us until last month."
"He was cheating on Millie?"
"Yes, but he's with a new witch, Laura, who he cheated on Millie with, but I saw him with Olive Brett, you remember, the witch from the Cauldron Cafe?"
"Ah, the leggy blonde," she muttered.
"That's the one," he nodded.
"You told this Laura what you saw?"
"Nah," he shook his head. "I'm keeping out of it, it's none of my business and I don't want to bring trouble to my door, not when I've a pregnant wife and kid at home. If I'd known about Millie, then I would've told her, you know she's quiet and despite not really fitting in with the family, she's alright," he shrugged. "Of course, she's got nothing on you. The biggest mistake of his life was screwing you over."
"But it was one of the best things to happen to me."
"Definitely," George agreed. "There's not a wizard alive that deserves you."
"That settles it, I'm going to die a lonely spinster. It seems Tony was right, I might have one cat now but pretty soon, I'll be the crazy cat lady everyone avoids."
George snorted. "I promise to not let that happen."
"'Mione."
Hermione flinched before steeling her expression and slowly turning to face Ron, immediately noting the tumbler of fire whiskey in his hand, his third and he'd barely been there ten minutes.
"Hello, Ronald," she responded politely, keeping her voice calm and neutral.
"What're you doing here?"
"I thought that was obvious, there's a birthday and a party, and so here I am to celebrate."
"You missed Hugo's birthday, and Rose's," he said bitterly.
"I also missed Fred's, Lucy's and Dominique's," she pointed out. "I think you're forgetting that I live 3.5 thousand miles away. I did attempt a return, even just for the day, but I was prevented from doing so by work requirements. And despite not being able to visit, I was always sure to have the children's card and gift arrive on time. You can make me out to be a bad person all you want, you can try to convince others that I don't love your kids as much as I do everyone else's, but I don't care anymore. I'm done, I'm over it and all of your pettiness. Stay away from me this evening and we shall be fine. Come on, Fred, it seems mummy's ate all the biscuits but I know Grandma Molly's secret hiding place for her special biscuits. But you can't tell anyone, okay?" She looked down at the toddler.
"Shhh," he agreed, his index finger pressed against his mouth.
"That's right," she agreed. "Shhh, let's go."
~000~000~000~
"So, what's this I hear about you living with your boss?" Bill arched an eyebrow.
Hermione narrowed her eyes, darting her gaze between George and Harry, only three people knew and the third option was Ginny, someone she knew wouldn't spill. Whilst George was usually good at keeping secrets, when he'd had a drink his tongue wagged. Harry was just rubbish at keeping secrets in general.
Harry shifted on the couch and offered a sheepish smile.
"It slipped out," he admitted, rubbing the back of his neck awkwardly.
Sniggers and chuckles sounded in the living room. Almost an hour had passed and with the drinks flowing and the children happily playing in the garden, the adults were convened in the living room, talking amongst themselves whilst Fleur and Audrey had offered to keep an eye on the children as it was growing dark outside.
"Hermione?" Molly Weasley questioned, looking to her disapprovingly.
"I am not sleeping with my boss," she stressed. "He's become a very good friend of mine and we spend most of our time together, both in and out of work hours. When he discovered I was struggling to find a place to live permanently and I'd been staying in hotels before I was later blacklisted due to Sally, he found me a property I might buy. However, it is currently being built and until it's finished, he asked if I would be his roommate and take his spare bedroom."
"That seems awfully generous of him," Molly remarked suspiciously.
Hermione barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes. "He's a good man. He hides behind a wall of wit and sarcasm but he has a kind heart most don't see. Honestly, I believe he was lonely. He's one of the smartest people in the world, his mind exists on a completely different wavelength to others, and not only that, he's been betrayed in the past. He's unsure of who he can trust or of who might be potentially using him for their own goals."
"Kinship," George said knowingly, having learnt from the letters she'd sent him.
"I think so, with me, he might not open up the way he might with someone else, but he knows I understand him and he knows he can trust that I don't want anything from him but friendship. My agreeing to stay with him was as much for his sake as it was my own."
"Please," Ron scoffed, his eyes glassy and his face pink as he sat slumped in a conjured armchair, a tumbler of fire whiskey in hand.
Hermione had lost count of how many drinks he'd had in the last hour, the only reason he wasn't drunk was that George had been secretly running interference, weakening the potency of the fire whiskey by topping it up with water whenever Ron wasn't looking. Whilst alcohol had been provided, they always made it a point to avoid getting drunk when their children were nearby, or at the very least, when they weren't at a child's birthday party. Ron had no qualms about that.
"Of course you're sleeping with him. I know you and you'll do anything to get ahead, that's why he's moved you in with him, easier access."
Hermione took a calming breath and folded her hands into fists as eyes darted between them, just being glad the children were outside and far away from anything that might happen.
"I have no reason to get ahead, Ronald," she responded coolly. "My work speaks volumes and I don't have any other competitors vying for the same research grant or the boss' approval. I am doing very well for myself, I enjoy my job and my boss never treats me as anything but his equal despite him being the one paying my wage. I'm tired of your belittling comments and misplaced anger. It's not my fault you're a serial cheat with children that have separate mothers. It's not my fault you're stuck in a stagnant job with your superiors refusing to give you a promotion or pay rise. It's not my fault you're slowly turning into a drunken bum and if you aren't careful, you will lose everything. It's not my fault I've got my life together and I've got a successful career, something I worked exceptionally hard for."
He pushed himself up and leaned forward, downing the remainder of the amber liquid before the tumbler lazily hung from his grasp. His eyes narrowed hatefully and a cruel smile touched at his lips.
"You know what?"
The room was deadly silent, no one daring to speak or interrupt should things be made worse and they turn physical. Not when the children were too close for comfort. They knew from experience it was best to let them fight it out and then deal with the aftermath later.
"You're life's not all that perfect, is it? No matter what you say, you've no home, no family, no husband or boyfriend and no children. You're all alone with your cat and fancy job. And you know why? You're a stuck up, cold-hearted, frigid bitch. No one will ever love you and you don't deserve it. You don't deserve love or a family."
Hermione felt something inside of her shrivel and die.
Her throat tightened and her vision blurred as tears tried to come to the surface, but she fought back the sting. Stealing a glance around the silent room, Molly, Arthur, Percy and Angelina appeared to be caught between surprise and horror, Bill, George and Ginny surprised fury and Harry? He was avoiding eye contact, his gaze glued to the ground and his brow furrowed.
It had happened again.
He wasn't going to defend her.
Her eyes closed for a small moment as she gathered herself, refusing to show weakness in front of Ron lest he digs further.
"Ronald, my life and my happiness is not dependant on a man or wizard. You want the truth, during our relationship I was the provider, not you, and I know that bothered you. That wound you up something fierce. I do not rely on a man and neither do I expect one to provide for me. Only when I find someone I believe is worthy will I allow him into my life, and he will contribute to my happiness but he will not define. Get over yourself, you narcissistic, sexist pig."
Rising to her feet, she grabbed her coat, reached down and scooped Sally into her arms and calmly walked to the fireplace.
"Hermione?" George called, moving after her.
Stepping into the floo, she turned to face him, her eyes welling with tears and her voice breaking as she said, "Don't follow me." And then she vanished into the flames.
"I'm going to kill him," George muttered.
~000~000~000~
She wasn't certain on the time, only that she'd been walking for hours, it was dark, cold and wet.
She hadn't floo'd to Grimmauld; not wanting to be followed and fawned over, she'd floo'd to the Leaky Cauldron and she hurried out into Muggle London before she was spotted or recognised. She set Sally on the ground, trusting her familiar to either follow her or find her should she get distracted, and she began walking with no destination in mind, soon blending into the crowd as London City slowly came to life on a Friday night.
After slipping on her coat, she buried her hands in her pockets and pressed her chin to her chest, keeping her head lowered so no one would see the silent tears that spilled down her cheeks without her permission.
She found herself distractedly walking along the River Thames and when her phone rang, she knew who it was. Ginny calling from Harry's phone. (And if she was wrong and it turned out to be Fury, it's was tough luck; she was out of the country). Harry didn't have the guts to speak to her so soon after an incident with Ron. In an unexpected and childish fit of rage, she'd pulled the device from her pocket and tossed it into the river, uncaring for any later consequences it might have. She didn't want to talk to anyone and neither did she wish for the Locator Charm to be activated and have Ginny or George show up and march her home.
Home, she thought with a derisive laugh.
Ron was right. She didn't have a home. She didn't have family. She had no significant other or children. She was alone. And she had been for years.
But she was tired of being alone, tired of only having herself to rely on. She'd meant the words she'd spoken to Ron. She didn't need a man to make her happy, but it would be nice to have someone to care for again, to have someone take care of her for a change. To have someone show an interest in her career and life without having ulterior motives or expecting something in return. Even someone to share the details of her day or to watch a shitty movie on TV and falling asleep halfway through because they were so bored.
She didn't want to be alone. Not now and not in the future.
And make her mood worse... The heavens opened from up above and unleashed a wickedly cold and heavy rainfall. Within in a matter of minutes, her hair was plastered to her face, she was soaked through to the bone and her tears were disguised by the rain. Sally was far from pleased and she let her displeasure be known as Hermione held her against her body, her coat folded around her, offering little protection from the cold and rain.
She had no idea what to do or where to go.
She couldn't return to Grimmauld, she wasn't ready to face anyone, least of all Harry. Her belongings were in her room, she didn't have her trusty beaded bag with her and neither did she have any money (but for a few coins in change from the previous day) so she might rent a hotel for the night. All she had was her wand and the wet clothes on her back.
She ducked beneath a bus shelter in hopes of getting a reprieve from the rain and that it would slow to a stop. When a bus pulled up a few minutes later and let the passengers off, the driver looked to her expectantly and after biting her lip, she shifted her coat to better hide her shaking familiar and produced the coins from her pocket, paying for a bus ticket to Merlin knew where.
She took a seat at the very back, grateful when she felt heat radiating from one of the vents by her feet and she felt Sally shift closer to it, too. Her head pressing against the window as her unfocused gaze watched the passing traffic and the rain droplets rolling down the glass, her mind went blank.
She allowed her mind to switch off, allowing her heart to lead her for once rather than relying on her intelligence. She wasn't certain where she'd end up, she only hoped it wouldn't get her into trouble.
She was surprised when she found herself walking down the street, having gotten off the bus without realising she'd done so, and although it hadn't stopped raining, it had slowed and her vision wasn't completely blurred.
When she felt herself being bathed in more light than the lampposts had previously offered, she slowed to a stop and lifted her head, her eyes immediately being drawn to the brightly lit brick building across the street.
She blinked in surprised confusion.
She'd allowed her heart to guide her and it had guided her straight to the Corinthia. Her heart had taken her to Tony Stark.
She felt her mouth part and there was an insistent tugging inside of her, as if it were trying to pull her closer to the hotel.
Hermione wanted someone to care for and for someone to care for her in return. Tony did that. She wanted to share little details about her day with someone who listened with rapt attention. Tony did that. She wanted someone to watch movies with until they fell asleep on the couch together. She did that with Tony.
Perhaps she wasn't as alone as she'd thought. Perhaps Tony was her family. Perhaps both she and Ron were wrong.
Without realising until it was too late, her feet had carried her across the road until she stood before the large building, her head tilting back and her eyes peering up at the many floors, wondering which one housed the Royal Penthouse suite.
Readjusting her coat and praying that Sally didn't give her away, (and Merlin knew how she'd fallen asleep) Hermione climbed the steps and the two doormen opened the large doors for her, greeting her with a smile and doing a remarkable job of keeping their judgement on her appearance from their faces.
Hermione knew she looked out of place. Standing in a brightly lit grand foyer with her hair, jeans, trainers and coat soaked through, in all honestly, she looked homeless. Ignoring the glances and whispers that picked up from the current guests coming and going, she left wet footprints in her wake as she approached the checking-in station, patiently waiting in the small queue that had formed.
When the couple before her took their leave towards the lift, peering at her over their shoulders in disgust and muttering something in a foreign language, German, she thought, she stepped up to the counter.
The young brunette behind the counter looked to be in her early-twenties, her uniform was immaculate but she wore a little too much makeup for Hermione's tastes, but, to each their own. And she had no right to be judgemental given her own appearance. The woman's dark green eyes lifted from the hidden computer screen, her smile faltering.
"Welcome to the Corinthia, how might I help you?" She repeated the same generic greeting Hermione'd heard her use on the couple before her.
"I'm Hermione Granger, I'm here to see Tony Stark. I believe he is residing in the Royal Penthouse suite."
The woman's professional smile fell from her face.
"Mr. Stark's security detail has asked that we protect his privacy to our highest standards. As such, he is not receiving visitors."
"I know," Hermione responded. "He doesn't like being interrupted, however, he is potentially expecting me."
"I highly doubt that," the young woman breathed out, giving Hermione a judgemental once over.
She felt her hackles rise. Hermione wasn't supposed to have heard it, she was sure.
"I'm not a crazy stalker, a fangirl or a member of the press. I happen to work with Mr. Stark in his Manhattan office. If I didn't know him personally, how would I have come by the information that he is staying in the Royal Penthouse suite, unless he told me himself? He told me he would have my name added to the bypass security list. I know his personal bodyguard quite well, too. Mr. Happy Hogan."
"Those details are easily found online," replied the brunette. "Miss..."
"Doctor," Hermione corrected. "Dr. Hermione Granger."
"Doctor," she repeated with a snooty tone. Hermione wanted to smack her. How dare she look down at her? Despite the image the woman held, Hermione knew her earrings weren't real diamonds, and the watch on her wrist, neither was that real Gucci. "I must ask that you leave, you are being disruptive and we have strict policies regarding such behaviour."
"Just call his room. Tell him I'm here, if he denies knowing me, I'll leave without issue. If not, call Mr. Hogan."
"Miss, if you do not leave, I must call security."
"I want to speak to your manager. Right now."
"Miss..."
"No, I have every right to speak with the manager."
And as luck would have it, she happened to appear.
The raven-haired woman looked to be in her mid-forties, her hazel eyes observing the disturbance with caution. Her low heels clacked against the marble flooring as she approached, clasping her hands together and halting to a stop behind the seated brunette.
"I'm Janice Clark, the night manager, I couldn't help but notice there seems to be an issue. Perhaps I might be of assistance?" She greeted politely.
Well, thought Hermione, At least this woman had the good sense keep her expression neutral.
"I was asking Miss. Granger..."
"Doctor," Hermione interrupted.
"If she would please leave before I called for security to escort her out of the building."
"And the issue?" The manager looked to the brunette.
"She claims to be a friend of Mr. Stark's and as asked for access to the Royal Penthouse."
The manager looked to Hermione.
"As I tried to explain to this young woman," Hermione began, sending a not so impressed glance her way, "I am Dr. Hermione Granger, I work alongside Mr. Stark in his Manhattan office, whilst he might not be expecting me this evening, he is aware that my arrival is a possibility. All I ask is that a call is made to his suite, should he refuse to see me, I will leave. I don't see the issue with such a simple request."
"And might you be able to contact Mr. Stark yourself?" The manager asked.
Hermione pursed her lips. "No," she sighed. "I had an incident later this evening in which my mobile was damaged and unfortunately, I can't remember his personal phone number."
"That is unfortunate," she replied. Hermione knew she didn't believe her.
"Look," Hermione fisted her hands, having long since lost her patience. "I don't wish to be rude but I've had an incredibly terrible day. My appearance, I assure you, I don't normally look as such. I was attending my Godson's birthday party which requires casual dress and I was caught in the rain unexpectedly. Please, just phone his room, if not, contact Happy Hogan, he will vouch for me. Do this, and I'll leave without hassle."
The manager eyed her cautiously before slowly nodding. "Lindsey, please place a call to the Royal Penthouse," she instructed.
"Mr. Stark asked that he not be disturbed," she replied.
"That's because he doesn't want you to patch Pepper Potts through, should she call. He's always ignoring her emails and sending her to voice mail," Hermione said knowingly.
"Lindsey," the manager warned.
The brunette reached for the phone and brought it to her ear, Hermione unable to see what her other hand was doing.
"Good evening, Mr. Stark," the brunette greeted cheerily. Hermione really wanted to smack her. "I'm sorry to interrupt but I have a Miss. Hermione Granger at the front...," she finished, drawing the phone back from her ear. "He hung up."
Hermione felt her face fall and her insides twist.
There was no way he was just going to ignore her. He wouldn't do that, she told herself. Not when she needed him.
"Well," the manager cleared her throat. "It seems the matter has been settled. Now, please leave before security is called."
Closing her eyes and swallowing back the embarrassment and disappointment, she made to turn and take her leave but a lift dinged open and she heard footsteps she'd recognise anywhere.
"Ah, Granger, what a surprise, I wasn't..." He trailed off when Hermione turned to face him, seeing him approaching from what looked to be a separate lift from the others in the hotel. He was dressed in one of his finest business suits and his shiny black shoes and when she looked to his face, she saw his eyes widen a fraction, his brow furrow and his teasing smile fell from his face. "What happened?" He demanded, uncaring for the crowd that had gathered, it only growing larger with his arrival.
"Long story," she muttered, lowering her gaze.
"You've been crying," he observed, looking down at her in concern as he stopped before her.
How the hell did he know that?
"No, I haven't," she denied immediately.
"You can't lie to me, I know you too well," he folded his arms. "Why are you wet?" He asked, lifting his gaze to the two women, both clearly surprised to learn Hermione had been telling the truth. "Why is she wet? I thought you Brits were supposed to be smart, no one thought to get her a towel?" The insinuation behind his words was clear, as was his unimpressed scowl and the manager sent a quick signal to a member of staff to retrieve a towel or two.
"What are you doing out here? You should've just come straight up where we could've gotten you dried off."
"They wouldn't let me," she muttered, shifting on her feet. "I've been here for at least fifteen minutes. I believe they think me to be a crazed stalker, a fangirl, a member of the press and my personal favourite, a homeless nutter."
"Excuse me?" His voice changed and his folded arms dropped to his sides as he turned his eyes to the two nervous-looking women behind the counter. "Why was she not given immediate access? I specifically named her as being capable of bypassing all security measures."
"I tried to explain, they wouldn't listen," said Hermione. "I asked several times that they call you or Happy."
"I was not aware," the manager responded, shifting uncomfortably under Tony's penetrating stare.
"I told you," Hermione looked to the brunette.
"That's right, she did," added the sixty-something woman behind her in the queue. "Twice, if my memory serves me right."
The manager looked to the brunette. "Lindsey, is this true?"
"Yes," she admitted, lowering her gaze.
"Had you asked for ID, this matter wouldn't have been an issue. And had you called the first time she'd asked, my best employee wouldn't be freezing her ass off in your foyer. And had your staff bothered to check if I had given someone unlimited access, right now I would be in a much better mood. Unfortunately, I am very disappointed in the service the London branch of the Corinthia chain offers."
The manager paled dramatically.
"Rest assured, I will not be staying here again and I'll be certain to send word of my experience to Pisani and whichever of his six kids that is now the CEO since his retirement. We're very good friends and he values my opinion."
"Mr. Stark, surely there is no need for such a measure," the manager began but Tony's glare silenced the remainder of her words.
"There is every need. From what I've gathered, this hotel employs judgemental, snobby idiots."
Hermione's mouth dropped open. It wasn't like Tony to insult someone so blatantly. He was usually more subtle; the majority of the time people didn't even realise he was insulting them.
"Dr. Granger is one of the smartest and most caring women I've ever had the pleasure of meeting and for you to treat her the way you have is unforgivable. They say men are the less observant sex and yet it took me only a single glance to realise that she has clearly had a trying day and a little kindness would've been appreciated. I will be suggesting to Pasini that he employs staff who are less judgmental, more understanding, who pay closer attention to detail and that listen to anyone that steps through those doors."
Tony looked to the right when a red-faced staff member appeared and held out a folded towel.
"One towel?" He arched an eyebrow. "And they say Americans are idiots." He reached for it and slung it around Hermione's shoulders. "Let's go, Poppins, they don't deserve our awesomeness."
He folded his hand around her wrist and tugged her after him towards the lift, but paused when they heard a camera.
Peering over his shoulder, he looked out at the large crowd whispering between each other.
"Who took that?"
A sheepish-looking teen held his hand up.
"How's my hair look?"
The teen blinked, clearly surprised that Tony was speaking to him. "Good?"
Tony nodded. "If that ends up online, I'll track you down and blast a hole through your computer and games console. Dr. Granger is not at her best and for the world to see that would be unforgivable." He continued towards the lift and pulled her in after him and the moment the doors closed, he turned to her. "What happened?"
"Nothing," she lied.
"You're a shit liar," he remarked.
A noise of surprise left her when two warm hands settled around the back of her neck, thumbs pressing against her jaw and tilting her head back, forcing her to look at him.
"What happened?" He repeated. "I know you, you wouldn't leave your friends for no reason. Tell me."
"Don't look at me like that," she muttered.
"Like?" He prompted, his eyes boring into hers.
"Like you care."
His brow furrowed. "I do care."
Tears swam in her eyes and they fluttered closed, a tear leaking. Unexpectedly, he pulled her against him into a hug.
"Tony! Your suit!" Her voice was muffled by his chest.
"What? This old thing? It's only Armani, I don't even like it that much."
"Only Armani," she scoffed to cover a sniffle.
"We better get you dry before you catch hypothermia," he said, feeling her body shaking in his hold. "Damn idiots," he grumbled.
A sudden meow sounded and he drew back from her, blinking in surprise when a wet, furry head poked out of the opening at the top of Hermione's coat.
"Has she been in there this whole time?" He questioned in disbelief.
"Yes, sleeping."
"Okay," he drew out the word slowly before shaking his head, a noise of amusement leaving him. "They had a cat right under their nose and didn't even notice! I'm not going to lie, I did think you were looking a bit on the rounder..."
"Don't finish that sentence," Hermione warned.
He held his hands up. "Is this how you snuck her into the other hotels?" He asked curiously, Tony carding his fingers through the slowly drying fur on Sally's head and she released a meow.
"Most of the time," she shrugged a single shoulder.
"Let's get you dry," he said to the cat. He plucked her from Hermione's cat, stole the towel from around her shoulders and folded it around Sally.
"What happened to catching hypothermia?" Hermione arched an eyebrow.
"You're bigger than she is, your body's capable of withstanding more than hers," he argued.
When the lift dinged open, Hermione followed after him when he stepped out and into his suite.
"A private lift? Really?"
"One of the perks," he shrugged.
Hermione darted a quick glance about her surroundings, noting the modern but elegant decor and theme throughout, the lounge with plush furniture and a fireplace, a dining room and several other additional rooms but the doors were closed, hiding its contents.
"First things first, we need to get you warm. So, I think a bath's in order."
"Tony, that's not..."
"Don't argue with me, just follow me," he instructed, leading the way to a beautifully decorated bedroom which came with its own bathroom, the bathtub almost being bigger than the bed and there was a TV built into the wall. "Run yourself a bath, I'll be back in a minute."
He disappeared and after rolling her eyes to herself, she admitted that after the day she'd had, a bath did sound good and so she turned on the taps and added some of the complimentary bath lotions until bubbles surfaced.
When Tony returned, he was without Sally and he carried two grey items in hand before holding them out to her, Hermione taking them in confusion and seeing that one was a t-shirt and the other tracksuit bottoms.
"What? You need dry clothing to change into, it's all I have," he shrugged. "Anyway, I'll be in the lounge with Sally when you're ready," he said over his shoulder, closing the bathroom door behind him.
~000~000~000~
"How d'you feel?" Tony asked, drawing his eyes away from the TV and to her when she stepped into the lounge.
Admittedly, the place was so bloody big she'd gotten lost and had wound up in a study, a powder room and a second living room that also had a balcony.
Whilst she'd enjoyed her bath, she'd been sure to be as quick as possible, not wanting Tony to wait too long for her to finish and after stepping out of the hot water and drying off, she used her wand to dry and clean her underwear before slipping on the clothing Tony had given her. As expected, they were too big but she couldn't do anything magically as he'd obviously notice and get suspicious. She'd settled for tucking the t-shirt into the waistband of the bottoms, which she'd rolled over to prevent them falling down. With her skin pink from the water and her hair wrapped up in a towel, she crossed to the couch and took a seat on the opposite side, pulling her feet up and tucking them under her.
She noted Sally now dry and sleeping on the rug before the lit fireplace, Tony had his feet propped up on the glass coffee table and had also changed into clothing similar to hers, and rain still pelted against the windows.
He switched off the TV and then reached down the side of the couch, drawing back with a bottle of wine and two glasses.
"You need a drink."
"Several," she agreed.
"You know, I'm tempted to accidentally spill this on the couch," he confessed, pouring the red wine into the glass before handing it to Hermione.
"They'd just make you pay for it," she pointed out.
"Nah, they're going to do everything to get on my good side now."
"Let the arse kissing commence," she toasted before sipping from her glass.
"So, why didn't you call me?"
She sighed and set her elbow on the back of the couch, her hand propping her head up as she leaned against the backrest.
"I couldn't remember your number and I may have thrown my phone into the River Thames," she shrugged.
He snorted. "Why? Does this have something to do with why you were crying? And don't lie to me. I want you to tell me everything."
Against her better judgement, she did.
~000~000~000~
Tony did not look pleased. Not in the slightest.
"That bastard!" He exclaimed angrily.
"Yeah, he is," she agreed, taking the bottle from the coffee table and drinking from it, forging the glass.
They were on their third bottle of wine, Hermione needing it to help her tell Tony all she'd been up to since they'd arrived in London, and most importantly, her argument with Ron.
"How dare he say that to you? And your friend, Harry, was it? He sat there and didn't get involved? Their addresses, Poppins. I want them both. Where's my suit? I'mma fly over there and kill both of them."
Tony stood to his feet but Hermione reached out and wrapped her fingers around his wrist, tugging him backwards until he collapsed onto the couch.
"You're not going anywhere," she protested, knowing she really should stop drinking before she felt the effects in the morning. "They both have kids," she pointed out. "Drink this," she shoved the bottle in front of his face and Tony took it with a huff, taking a large swig. "It's always been this way, and I don't know why I convinced myself it was going to change. It's not. Ron's an arsehole, always has been, especially since I called off the wedding. And, Harry? He always takes his side, no matter who's at fault. In his eyes, Ron can do no wrong, and it's shit."
"Really shit," he nodded.
"When he said those things to me, I wanted to hurt him. Like really hurt him."
"I'll do it for you," he offered.
"I reckon George's already beaten you to it, he didn't look happy when I left, neither did Ginny for that matter. But when I left, I had no idea where I was going or what I was going to do. I didn't want to go back to Harry's because that's the first place they'd look. So I had no clothing or money or anything but Sally, and subconsciously, I found myself standing outside the hotel. And I plan on avoiding them for as long as possible."
"And you're staying with me, here," Tony added confidently.
"I can't."
"You can," he argued. "We live together, Roomy. There's no difference between the Tower and a hotel. The guest suite's all done up and waiting for you. And to be honest, I've missed you."
"Awwww!" Hermione drew out, leaning over to pinch his cheek and he swatted her hands away.
"You're saying you didn't miss me?"
"Not even a little bit."
"Liar," he scowled, taking another swig from the bottle.
"Alright, maybe a little. Sleeping through the night without being woken by an explosion, shout of joy or cried curse word did throw me a little. I've gotten used to you being around all the time," her eyes moved to the ground and she fell silent for a few moments. "What if Ron was right?"
"I doubt it, from what you've told me, the jackass can't even tie his own shoelaces."
Hermione bit her lip. That was true, actually. He'd never learned. He'd either wear Velcro shoes or tuck the laces inside, and in cases where he had to tie his laces, he'd just use magic.
"And no matter what he said or how many times he says it, you do deserve to be happy. And you're not alone because you have me."
"You know, I don't think I've ever said this aloud but I hate coming back, and the only reason I do is for the kids. Everyone has their own lives and careers and families and we've veered off in different directions, I'm not as close to the people I once was, and I'm closer to the people I never thought would have an impact on my life when I was younger. I'm the only one without the house, wedding ring and kids, and I've seen the way some of them look at me. They pity me. And I hate it. I've still got time, right? This place, it didn't feel like home for a long time even before I was shipped off to SHIELD. That didn't feel like home. But at the Tower, with you and Sally, I think it's exactly what I need. Thank you, Tony," Hermione mumbled, feeling sleep quickly setting in. She shouldn't have had so much wine.
"For?" He prompted.
She gave a sleepy smile. "For stealing me from Fury."
As sleep claimed her, her head lying atop her arm which was flung over the back of the couch, Tony watched her for a moment. Placing the half-empty bottle of wine on the coffee table, he reached for his earpiece and slipped it on before he stood from the couch, lifted Hermione into his arms and carried her to the guest room.
"Jarvis?"
"Yes, Sir," replied the A.I.
"Harry James Potter, Ronald Billius Weasley, I want everything you can find on them."
"Right away, Sir. But might I suggest caution? I don't believe Dr. Granger will appreciate you digging into her life in such an intrusive manner."
"They hurt her, Jarvis, I'm not letting that go," was Tony's only reply.
Kicking the door open, he stepped into the guest suite and moved to lay Hermione on the bed, pulling the blanket out from beneath her and covering her with it. She shifted in her sleep, rolling over onto her side and automatically pulling a pillow over to her, spooning it. Feeling Sally rubbing against his ankles, he lifted the little feline onto the bed and she climbed atop the cushion Hermione held, her nose brushing Hermione's.
"I didn't know it then but stealing you from Fury's one of the best decisions I've made," he muttered to himself.
