The incessant vibrating of her wand woke her up as always. Blearily opening her eyes, Hermione fumbled for her wand to shut it off. Unwilling to leave the warm sanctuary of her bed, Hermione enjoyed a languid stretch under the blankets. Languid, that is, until she promptly remembered where she was and what day it was. The safehouse. Wednesday. Groaning, she rolled out of bed, her feet hitting the cold floor. With a quick flick of her wrist, she turned the shower on as she peed and brushed her teeth before slipping under the hot spray. She went through the motions of her morning routine robotically, bathing and grooming herself – hesitating only momentarily when she realised that she had no vanity in the safehouse flat, before standing at the bathroom sink to do her hair and makeup.

The real trick came when she had to pick out her clothes for the day. She still had no idea what to expect out of this mission. Eventually, she settled on a simple stretchy black dress pants and green silk blouse. Professional, easy to move in. Just to make sure all the goalposts were covered though, Hermione also slipped her combat robes, dragonhide gloves, and a lab coat into her little beaded bag. The bag was a relic from her days on the run with Harry and Ron, rarely used nowadays but undeniably useful in moments like these. Better to have it and not need it, than to need it and not have it. She dropped the little bag into her larger purse she would carry to work.

Checking the time on her phone – and double checking in Maps how far away the SHIELD building was – Hermione decided to walk to work to hopefully clear her head, and to grab a cup of coffee and something to eat on the way.

The air was milder than it had been on Monday, though the cold still made her glad for the Gryffindor red scarf she'd grabbed on her way out the door. Pulling her jacket tighter around her, she began her walk, occasionally pausing to check that she was going the right way on her phone. Soon enough, she stumbled on a little coffee shop where she grabbed a large coffee and a croissant. Logically, she knew that too much caffeine was not good when one was already feeling a little anxious, but she couldn't resist the lure of the caffeine's ability to help her through what she was sure would be a long day.

The nondescript SHIELD building whose address she'd been given was only about a fifteen-minute walk from her safehouse flat, so soon enough she had arrived. Entering the building, she gave her name to security and they let her in with little fuss. The guard informed her that Fury was waiting for her on the 33rd floor. Heading to the lifts they had pointed out, Hermione joined the steady flow of workers coming in to start their morning shifts. However, by the time her lift got to the 33rd floor, Hermione was the only one on it – the others having all exited on their respective floors. The closer they got to the top of the building and the fewer people who were on the elevator, the more sideways glances she got from the other workers. When the doors dinged on the 33rd floor, she took a deep breath and smoothed her hands over her skirt, before Hermione walked off the elevator and directly into the office of one Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD.

His office took up the entire floor, open concept with several clear spaces for varying uses – along the back wall, smack in the middle in front of floor to ceiling glass windows was a desk. The chair behind it was currently occupied by the Director himself. To her right, Hermione observed a small sitting area with a bar cart and to her left appeared to be… an armory? How odd.

Hermione strode confidently towards the man at the desk, her head held high, her walk calm and confident, her face hiding any trace of her bubbling nerves. He met her eyes head on and stood to greet her. He cut an imposing figure with his black leather jacket almost reminding Hermione of combat robes.

"Director Fury, I presume? Lovely to meet you. I'm Hermione Granger," she said, shaking his hand.

"Ms. Granger, we're glad to have you here. Please have a seat," The man casually gestured to the chairs facing his desk. "We're waiting on one more to join us and then we'll get started."

With that, he lapsed into silence. Hermione was tempted to fill the silence, to say something, anything, to avoid it – glancing up at the ceiling, she tried to ground herself. Fortunately (or perhaps unfortunately), before she could figure out what to say, or even if she should be saying anything at all, a woman walked in. She was tall, slender, and moved with a sense of grace that belied the undercurrent of strength and power Hermione picked up. Her red curls were cropped to her shoulders and she wore a skin tight leather bodysuit. Strange choice of clothing for an office.

"Ah, Agent Romanoff, come on in, have a seat," the Director said. With a sharp nod to him, she complied with his request. "Agent Romanoff here will be your secondary point of contact here at SHIELD. For the time being, she and I are the only ones aware of your… talents. I imagine that the two of you will be working quite closely together while you're an attaché at SHIELD. Agent Romanoff will give you a tour of the building and your workspace shortly, but first, do you have any questions for me?"

Hermione paused for a moment. She had about a million questions for him – stemming from anything to do with the project, to inquiries about said workspace, to even wanting to know what happened to his eye (though she knew she certainly could not ask that one). Ultimately, she settled on her most burning question.

"Director, what exactly am I doing here?"

H – H – H

"I'll be back in an hour," Agent Romanoff had said, as she left Hermione.

Settling into her new office, alone for the first time all morning, Hermione scoffed at the run around she'd been given. Neither Director Fury nor Agent Romanoff had been very forthcoming on any particular details. Even Romanoff's tour had been sparse, highlighting just a few areas of the building (the cafeteria, the loos, and the like). It seemed they wished to keep their cards close to their chests – which, Hermione could admit, was understandable… if more than a little bit frustrating.

Looking around her office, Hermione appreciated the privacy it afforded her. While the cubicles MID favoured allowed her easy access to her colleague's aid when she needed it, it was nice to have a quiet space to think in. She quickly got to work setting up her space – while she would have liked to use magic to speed up the process, Hermione couldn't be sure about hidden cameras in her workspace (and who might have access to the feed) and she didn't want to take any risks, certainly not for something as simple as rearranging her office.

And so it was that when Romanoff returned, she found Hermione pushing her desk across the room, unaided by magic. If Romanoff was surprised, her face did not show it and nor did her tone. "Let's go, Fury's waiting," she said, words barely out of her mouth before she exited the office.

Agent Romanoff moved quickly through the hallways of the SHIELD office building, with other agents swift to move out of her way. Hermione followed silently behind her as the two headed back to the Director's office. As they entered the lift, Hermione was struck with the same urge to say something that she'd had in Fury's office earlier – to say anything to fill the oppressive silence that consumed the small space. The gods must have been smiling down on her that day though as she managed to keep what was sure to have been a rather embarrassing, rambling, nonsense dialogue in. Hermione 2, Anxiety 0.

Walking off the lift with Agent Romanoff, Hermione took what she hoped was a subtle deep breath to ground herself. If Romanoff noticed, she didn't say anything. The two women beelined for the director's desk, sitting in the mildly uncomfortable chairs facing it. Natasha nodded in greeting as she sat, while Hermione gave an awkward smile to Director Fury.

"Well then, Agent Granger, what do you know about the Avengers?"