Sooooo...*chuckles nervously* it really shouldn't have taken me this long, but the muse is a fickle thing, and I had to figure out where I am actually going with this (people said they couldn't wait to see where I took this story – yeah, me too). I'm writing with an almost nonexistent outline because that's just how I roll, so, um, don't hate me when it's a couple weeks between updates? *dodges flying vegetables* *shoves this nice, long chapter at you in hopes of keeping you happy*

Oh yeah, and school just started, so my free time went down like 1000%...it's gonna be a struggle. Honestly, the things that best give me motivation are reviews, so if you want more, be sure to let me know!

Riiiiight, so, to recap – hope you like this, blah blah blah, reviews are good for the soul :) (hint, hint), enjoy Teddy being the cutest fucking thing you've ever read about, and I don't science so literally all the scientist-talk is complete bullshit with some random words I plucked from Wikipedia :)

Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or MCU, anything you recognize isn't mine.

Witchling

Chapter 2

Hermione stepped out of the swirling green flames and into Grimmauld Place, muttering a quick cleaning charm to get rid of the insane amount of soot in her hair and on her clothes.

"Harry?" She called out, not seeing him in the living room. Kreatcher popped into the space next to her.

"Master Harry is in the Kitchen, Miss Miney," he croaked out, before popping out of the room once more. Hermione started towards the kitchen, nervously running through her arguments in her head. It'll be fine, she told herself, I'll be fine. She entered the room, where Harry stood in front of the stove, sleeves rolled up past his forearms, cooking something or other that smelled absolutely delicious.

"Mmm," Hermione closed her eyes, sniffing the air. "What are you making?"

Harry moved the skillet off the stove, then made his way over to the icebox. "Chicken pot pie with biscuits," he answered absentmindedly, rummaging around before pulling out a slab of dough. He then froze as his mind caught up with him. "Wait, Hermione! What are you doing here?" He dropped the dough onto the counter and hurried over to her side, pulling her into a tight hug. "I haven't seen you in forever!"

Hermione chuckled. "I came over for dinner two weeks ago, Harry."

"Exactly," Harry said, grinning. "Forever. Anyways, why'd you come to visit?"

Hermione suddenly became very interested in the pattern of the stove's backsplash. Seriously, Harry, little golden snitches? "Er, no reason! Just wanted to spend time with my favorite little brother!" She said, forcing cheer into her voice. God, I'm weak. Just rip the plaster off, Hermione. Harry pulled away from her, frowning.

"Hermione? You alright?"

She took a deep breath. "Yes! It's just that, er – you see, the thing is…um, you remember what I'm researching?"

Harry looked confused. "Of course, Mia, you wouldn't shut up about that damn glowy cube thing."

Glowy cube thing? Glowy cube thing? Hermione rolled her eyes. Did she have enough time to educate him?

Yes, she decided, yes I do.

Hermione placed one hand on her hip in preparation, making sure she still had a hand free to wave and gesture as she made her point. She took a breath. "Honestly, Harry, do you ever pay attention to me when I speak about work? That 'damn glowy cube thing' is a treasure trove of unmatched power, both magical and technological! If I could just figure out how to convert it into usable energy or magic, so many things in this world could be solved. We could get internet and electricity to third world countries for next to no cost! We could harness magic in a way that it is self-sustainable – think wards that last forever, or a wand for squibs that doesn't require a magic user to push their own magic through it. The possibilities–"

"Woah, woah, Hermione, I didn't ask for a lecture!" Harry cut her off before she spiraled too deep. He knew that after thirty seconds, nothing short of a small explosion could get through to her. Hermione huffed at his interruption. "You're acting weird, Mia. Tell me what's wrong."

She bit her lip. Took a deep breath.

"I joined the Avengers!"

For a moment, Harry was quiet. Then, he spoke, his voice dangerously soft. "What."

Well fuck, Hermione thought. I'm gonna die. Angry Harry was supposed to be loud. An Angry Harry that was quiet? Merlin help her.

Hermione gave a weak smile that fooled nobody and did some jazz hands. "Surprise!"

Harry was unmoved.

"Hermione," he began, his voice still scarily calm, "Why did you join what you once described to me as, and I quote, 'a group of dysfunctional vigilantes that would just so happen to have the backing of an extra-governmental military organization'? I thought we had been through this! We're supposed to be leading relatively normal lives now!"

Hermione scoffed. "As if we could ever have normal lives, mister Man-Who-Conquered, Master of Death." Harry winced at the reminder of his very much unwanted titles. "Plus," Hermione went on, her hair crackling a bit as her magic flared with her annoyance, "someone stole my tesseract! If you think for one second I'm about to let some incompetant group go after my favorite thing to research without me, then dying has clearly left you without any brain cells!"

Harry continued to stare stone-faced at her, then with a huff he dropped himself into a worn leather armchair. "Does you little spy organization know you tell me all this classified information?" He asked wryly, scrubbing his hands down his face.

Hermione smirked. "Of course not. Do the Aurors know that you still talk through active cases with me?"

Harry snorted into his palms. "Godric, no." He paused, then looked up at her. "You really want to do this? They aren't forcing you or anything, right?" He asked, a hint of worry beneath the steel in his voice.

Hermione smiled slightly. "No, Harry, they aren't forcing me to do anything." She gave a soft sigh. "I know I'm making it out to be that the tesseract is my main reason, but really, the thing is, I miss it – you know, helping save people. And honestly, I think this might be the way I can make a big difference. I actually want to be back in the thick of it again." She laughed dryly. "You've corrupted me."

He raised an eyebrow. "Me? I think you're forgetting which one of us set a teacher on fire."

Hermione sniffed righteously. "He deserved it!"

Harry laughed. "Yeah, yeah he did." He looked at Hermione, his face growing serious once more. "Mia…remember to call me if you need backup, okay? And if anything – and I mean anything – happens to you, you better believe I'll burn the world to get to you." His eyes hardened at the thought, and as Hermione met his sharp stare, she almost pitied whatever poor being was on the receiving end of his promise.

"I know," She said. She opened her mouth to say how much she loved him for that, but was cut off by a shout of "Aunt Mia!" and a small body colliding against her legs. A wide grin broke out across her face as she looked down at the small child hugging her knees. "Teddy bear!" She ruffled his teal hair and he smiled angelically up at her.

"Aunt Mia! Guess wha'! Guess wha'!" He bounced in excitement. "Daddy let me go on his bwoom with him! And we flied super fast!"

Hermione snapped her gaze over to Harry, whose face paled. "That's great, darling!" She said in a sugar-sweet voice, a sharp, predatory smile directed at her brother. He audibly swallowed.

"Mia–"

Teddy cut off his groveling. "An' Vicky came o'er and we played Dwagons and Pwincesses!" Hermione's eyes were back on Teddy's, a soft look on her face. Harry breathed a sigh of relief that Teddy had distracted Hermione from what would've surely been a painful spat for him (especially if she had used those thrice-damned birds). Teddy shot him a smug look (something that should not have looked so natural on a four-year-old) that said he knew exactly what he had saved Harry from, and that he expected some sort of compensation. Well, I guess I know who is getting a second helping of dessert tonight, Harry thought.

"Mia!" Teddy tugged Hermione's shirt and she leaned down. He lowered his voice a bit, and put a finger to Hermione's lips. "Shh, Mia, this is a secwet – me an' Vicky is getting mawwied!" Hermione's eyes widened at that, and she let out a surprised chuckle. A quiet choking sound came from Harry's direction.

"You are?" They both asked at the same time, Hermione's tone amused while Harry's was alarmed.

Teddy nodded seriously. "Vicky said we's have to, or we can't do cuddles anymo'e!" Hermione bit back a laugh at the distraught look on Teddy's face. Teddy turned to face Harry and waggled a finger at him. "Daddy, you have to get workin'!"

"Working on what, kiddo?" Harry was almost scared for the answer.

Teddy looked at him as if he were stupid for not knowing. "You need to grow my room, so Vicky can fit her bed and toys in it too." The duh was left unsaid.

"Er…" Harry turned wide, eyes towards Hermione, pleading for help. She was unaffected. You can get yourself out of this mess, her look said. Harry thought frantically for a moment, then turned back towards Teddy and adopted a faux-serious face. "Teddy, there's one thing we need to check before this happens – have you asked Victoire's father if she can marry you yet?"

The dismayed look on Teddy's face was answer enough. "What?!" He cried, his hair turning a deeper shade of blue. "I didn't know that, I didn't know!"

Harry nodded solemnly. "Then I'm sorry, bud, but you can't get married yet."

Teddy squeaked in alarm and scrambled towards the pot next to the fireplace, reaching up on his tiptoes to carefully grab a handful of floo powder. He turned back to Harry, asking, "Shell Cottage? Please?" Harry nodded his permission, and Teddy ran and threw the powder into the fireplace. Once Teddy had stepped into the green flames, he shouted "Shell Cottage!" and left in a swirl of green.

Hermione looked quizzically at Harry. "You aren't gonna tell Bill what to expect?"

Harry smirked. "Nah – let him deal with it."

Hermione burst out laughing at the downright villainous plan, clutching at her sides. Harry joined in, sniggering at the thought of Bill having to find answers for the boy's questions. After a few minutes they both calmed down, and Hermione wiped the tears from her eyes.

"So," Harry started, "are you staying for dinner? I made Teddy's favorite. Merlin knows he'll need something to console him when Bill tells him he can't marry Victoire."

Hermione smiled at the offer, but shook her head. "Sorry, Harry, but I have work to do. You should enjoy your night off with your son."

Harry opened his mouth to try to convince her to stay, but was interrupted by a silvery falcon swooping between them. It opened its beak and Bill's terrified voice filled the room. "Harry! The kids want to get married! Teddy asked for permission to wed my daughter!" In the background, Fleur's voice could be heard saying "Oh, 'Arry, eet vas seemply adorable! Zey were 'olding one anuzzer's 'ands, 'oo could say non?". Bill ignored his wife and continued to panic. "My three-year-old daughter, Harry! Was proposed to! With flowers and a ring pop!" There was a pause as Bill tried to come to terms with the situation he was in. "Morgana's tit, Harry," he cursed. "This is your fault! I got my first grey hair today! Years taken off my life…my baby girl…never growing up…no…marriage…" The rest of the message devolved into random mutterings until the falcon faded away, and there was a beat of silence before Hermione spoke.

"Er – yeah, so I'm gonna go home, and you can deal with–" Hermione waved her hand in the general direction of where the patronus had been "–that." She pressed her lips together in an effort to keep from laughing. That's definitely gonna be a pensieve memory.

Harry cringed at the thought of interacting with a distraught Bill Weasley before focusing back on his sister. "You don't have to do this, Hermione," he said in one last attempt to sway her.

Hermione sighed. "I do, Harry. These past five minutes were proof of that! Teddy – what Teddy deserves is to grow up safe, and I'll do anything to make that happen. Even become a superhero. And you would, too." She shot him a look that dared him to argue. He remained silent. Smart man. Bending to kiss him on the cheek, she made her way towards the fireplace.

"Mia!" Harry called, and Hermione paused, some floo powder clutched in her right hand. "You know I mean it when I say I'll come after you – you know, if anything goes wrong."

Hermione smiled. "Of course I do, Harry. Now, I really do have to get going – I have a fascinating reading to do on thermonuclear astrophysics before tomorrow, with the Extraction Theory and–"

"Yes, yes, now go home – and be careful!" Harry interrupted, and Hermione left through the floo with a quick "I love you!" tossed over her shoulder.

Hermione woke the next day to the sound of her mobile ringing. She groaned, blinding patting the air until she found the source of the infernal noise, and silenced it. Contented that her peace and quiet was restored, she wriggled herself deeper into the covers with a little murmur. She had just drifted off again when the ringing sound filled the air once more. Hermione scowled into her pillow before angrily accepting the call.

"What?" She grumbled, her voice rough with sleep.

Fury's answering snicker didn't do much for his future health.

"If you don't have a legitimate reason for calling me at–" Hermione checked the time and cursed under her breath "–5:17 in the bloody fucking morning, then I'll make what I did to you in Miami seem like child's play, understand?"

"How many times have I told you, we don't speak of Miami!" Fury hissed. He took a steadying breath, then said brusquely, "Just – meet at these coordinates at 2 o'clock sharp. I sent along a picture of where you should appear. Rogers, Banner, and Romanoff will be there too." With a click, he ended the call, and therefore missed the very detailed description of exactly how Hermione was going to hex him when she next saw him.

"Bloody menace," Hermione muttered, throwing her phone haphazardly across the room before she tugged her covers up and fell back into a deep sleep.

The next time Hermione opened her eyes it was noon, and thin strips of daylight streamed through her blinds. Her eyes squeezed shut as she sat up to stretch with a yawn. Slipping out of bed she headed to the bathroom, where she grimaced as she caught sight of her hair in the mirror. Sure, it had tamed itself slightly since her school years, but that didn't mean it wasn't a monster to deal with in the morning. Sighing, she pulled out a brush and went to work.

Thirty minutes and a couple potions later, her hair fell in wild, cinnamon curls that she pulled into a thick bun, and she had made up her face with mascara and a nude lipstick. She stepped back to study her reflection, nodded in satisfaction, and then grabbed from her closet her favorite pair of jeans and a tight, black long-sleeve shirt. Throwing on some black boots and a leather jacket with extension charms on the pockets that she stole from Harry, she called it good. She slid her wand in her arm holster and grabbed her red kisslock clutch, which had replaced her purple beaded bag after the war, and stuffed it in her pocket.

After eating a light breakfast, she pulled out the coordinates and the photo that Fury had sent her, and with a sound like a knuckle cracking, she was gone.

She appeared in a plain, grey room that Fury had probably made entering require a clearance level so high that the president couldn't enter. Slightly adjusting her jacket and patting her hair to make sure it had survived the trip, she stepped out, making her way to the stairway that led out to the landing pad of the Helicarrier.

The sounds of agents shouting and Quinjets filled her ears as she stepped through the doorway and into open air. All around her, S.H.I.E.L.D. agents in orange and yellow jackets were running back and forth purposefully.

Hermione hurried towards a woman with shoulder-length red hair who was walking towards a plane that had just landed and fell in line beside her, a wide smile on her face. "Natasha!"

"Hermione," Natasha replied with a small smile of her own. "How are you? Still making Fury's life difficult? You should hear him complain about his blood pressure – he says it's all you."

Hermione's face transformed into a scowl. "Oh, he has no idea what's coming to him."

Natasha smirked. "You know, I still haven't figured out how you got those pictures of Fury holding his cat taped to every single monitor, but let me tell you, the look on Fury's face when he realized is still in my top three favorite memories."

That reminds me – send Hill another 'Thank-you' cake, Hermione thought, then said, "He ticked me off. It was only fair." The cheshire grin on Hermione's face was mirrored by Natasha.

"One of these days, you are going to teach me." It wasn't a question.

"Maybe."

Natasha pouted, and Hermione laughed. "Yeah, that doesn't quite have the same effect on me as it does on your targets. Nice try, though."

Natasha huffed. "Well, if you're planning something, make sure I'm still in the room. Clint's been begging me for some blackmail material on Fury." At the mention of Barton, Natasha's smile faltered, but she quickly forced it back on her face.

Hermione caught it. "Hey, what's wrong with Clint? You two have a spat or something?"

Natasha shook her head. "No, nothing like that. It's just – Clint's been compromised."

"What?" Hermione stopped walking. "What do you mean, compromised?"

Natasha was silent for a few seconds, then sighed. "You remember who stole the tesseract?"

Hermione snorted softly. "How could I forget? That bastard's the reason I'm here."

"He used the scepter to take over Clint's mind. He's trying to kill us now." Natasha's face was carefully blank, a perfect mask that came from years of training.

Hermione turned to Natasha, looking horrified. "Shite. Are you okay?" She asked, concerned. Godric, another form of the imperius. Great.

"I'll be better when we get him back and make that bastard pay."

They reached the plane they had been heading towards just as Coulson and Rogers stepped out of it.

"Five quid says he signed the trading cards," Hermione murmured to Natasha.

She smirked. "Deal."

"Agent Romanoff, Hermione – this is Captain Rogers," Coulson said, his tone tinged with glee and awe from meeting his childhood hero.

"Ma'am." Rogers nodded to both women.

Hermione gave him a little wave and a smile. Natasha nodded back and said "Hi," before turning back to Coulson. "They need you on the bridge, they're starting the face trace."

"See you there," Coulson said as he left. The three remaining started towards Banner, who was on the other side of the Helicarrier.

Natasha looked towards Rogers and remarked, "It was quite the buzz around here, finding you in the ice. I thought Coulson was gonna swoon." Her voice held only the slightest hint of amusement when she asked, "Did he ask you to sign his Captain America trading cards yet?"

"Trading cards?"

Hermione cursed under her breath and slid some cash into Natasha's waiting hand, much to the bemusement of Steve.

"They're vintage – he's very proud." Natasha said dryly, pocketing the money.

Hermione grinned. "I wonder what sort of favor Phil called in to be able to fly with you, Captain."

They came to a stop in front of Banner, who looked lost and confused as he stumbled around, somehow getting in the way of every single agent around him.

"Dr. Banner," Steve called, walking up to him and holding out his hand.

"Oh, yeah, hi." Banner shook Steve's hand, looking him over. "They told me you'd be coming."

"Word is you can find the cube."

Banner hesitated. "Is that the only word on me?" He asked half-heartedly.

"Only word I care about," came Steve's response, and Hermione's respect for him rose a couple of notches.

Hermione stepped forward, a wide smile on her face, and gave his hand an excited shake. "Dr. Banner, so lovely to meet you. I have to say, I'm so glad for the opportunity to work together, even if the circumstances are – er, less than ideal." They shared a wince at the reminder of the homicidal maniac running around with not one, but two incredibly powerful artifacts. She quickly moved on. "Anyways, just wanted to say that your work involving a piezoelectric transducer as a means to make gamma radiation phasable is incredible, and is definitely going to be revolutionary in terms of quantum physics. I was wondering if maybe, once we find my tesseract, you'd be interested in studying how it interacts with some of your own research?"

Banner blinked. "Uh, thank you, um – Dr. Granger, was it?"

"Please, call me Hermione," Hermione said kindly.

"Then call me Bruce," Banner replied, a slight smile on his face.

Natasha spoke up. "Gentlemen, Hermione – you may wanna step inside in a minute. It's gonna get a little hard to breathe." A small smirk tugged at the corner of her lips.

The air filled with the sound of voices directing agents over the intercom and metal clanking into place, all underscored by a high pitched whirr of an engine.

"Is this a submarine?" Steve sounded incredulous.

"Really?" Bruce gave a scoffing laugh. "They want me in a submerged, pressurized metal container?"

Natasha stayed silent, sharing a look with Hermione – who, for one, was not thrilled to be flying thousands of feet in the air. The two men were oblivious, and walked over to the edge of the Helicarrier, looking down at the churning water around the enormous turbine engines.

"Oh, no." Banner said. "This is much worse."

Seriously? Hermione thought, safely in the middle of the Helicarrier. We tell them to get inside and they go closer to the edge of what they thought was a submarine? "Boys! Instead of getting sucked off the edge of this Helicarrier and chopped up into tiny little pieces by the propeller, I suggest following us inside!" Hermione's hands were on her hips as she shouted over the wind.

Bruce and Steve shared a slightly chagrined look, and trailed after the two women as the Helicarrier finally lifted out of the water.

Once inside, they made their way to the bridge of the ship, where Fury stood overlooking his agents. Steve pulled out 10 dollars and handed it to Fury, much to Hermione's amusement, and Banner started discussing using cameras and spectrometers to search for the tesseract. Natasha was pulled away from checking on Clint's whereabouts when Fury asked her to lead Hermione and Bruce to their labs.

She stood and walked past them, tossing over her shoulder, "You guys are gonna love it – it's got all the toys."

After calibrating some computers to track the gamma rays picked up from the spectrometers, Hermione and Bruce spent a couple hours talking science – bouncing ideas off each other using their respective knowledge of the tesseract and gamma radiation. After that, Hermione talked a bit about how the tesseract seems almost sentient, and how, funnily enough, it has people that it simply will not cooperate with.

"You know, the tesseract absolutely despises Brittany from S.H.I.E.L.D.'s R&D sector – you will not believe the amount of plastic surgery she needed when it blew up in her face." Bruce looked a little warily at Hermione and her utter lack of concern for the woman. She caught him eyeing her and scoffed dismissively. "Oh come on, Brittany absolutely deserved it. You do not want to know how many times she mentioned how my hair was a disaster or how the secretary to Fury's office was a slag, on top of nattering on to anyone who would listen how smart and perfect she was. Now, though – well, let's just say that the plastic surgery did not agree with her, and that shut her up pretty quick."

Just then, Natasha stuck her head in, calling out, "Loki's been spotted in Germany. Suit up and meet in the hangar, Hermione, we're taking the Quinjet."

Hermione cursed under her breath. "I knew I was missing something." She turned to Bruce. "Got to go see if Fury has my costume. Wish me luck!" With that, she left in search for the Director, praying against all hope that her outfit wouldn't be too ridiculous.

"You've got to be kidding me," Hermione said flatly, looking at what she was expected to wear. "This is what you and Kingsley came up with?"

Fury stood beside her, arms crossed. "Just put on the damn suit, Granger. And for your information, I didn't come up with it. They didn't want 'witch' to be the first thing anyone thought of, so this is what you get. White and gold colors, codename 'Angel'. Deal with it."

They stood in front of a dummy wearing what Kingsley had apparently thought acceptable for Hermione Granger, the Brightest Witch of Her Age, to wear into battle. White dragonhide made up the fitted tailcoat – a good choice, she thought reluctantly, as it was near indestructible, and nothing short of a missile dropped right on top of her would damage it. Gold filigree decorated the cuffs of the sleeves and the edges of the jacket, as well as adorned the back of the neck and collar, swirling down to a point between the shoulderblades. Draped over each shoulder was gold armor, crafted to look like feathered wings which lay flush against the back of her coat, the tips reaching to her hips. Boots made of the same sturdy dragonhide as her coat reached just above the knees and had golden closures running up one side. Tucked into them were thick, white trousers, a knife holster secured around her right thigh. A golden belt looped around her midsection twice, a small, bottomless bag hanging from it, and an ornate white bodice embellished with swirling, gold designs fit snugly over a long-sleeve undershirt. Elaborate golden armor covered the forearms, the inside of each holding a small knife and a hidden holster for her extra wands (she had three – what could she say, war had made her paranoid).

Hermione walked closer to the dummy. "Honestly, Nick, the longer I stare at it, the more I'm okay with wearing it. I mean, if I die, then at least I go out in style." She pulled open the coat. "I mean, look at this. Lined with pockets – ooh, undetectable extension charms, very nice – and a lovely little assortment of knives in there too, how delightful!" She pulled one out, testing its weight in her hand.

"I hear they're enchanted to always return to you, and that they all are imbued with a fast-acting poison that will paralyze your opponent for a couple minutes," Fury explained while Hermione experimentally slashed through the air. He took a small step back, just enough to be out of stabbing range. You can never be too careful. "The other side has the guns. Now, put the knife away and go meet Natasha. You leave in–" he checked his watch "–two minutes."

Hermione glared at him as she replaced the knife. "You're lucky I can just magick this onto me, otherwise we would be at least an hour late." With a flick of her wand, the ensemble materialized on her body, her original clothes appearing on the mannequin. She flexed her wrists and wiggled around a bit, surprised at how comfortable it was. Giving a few experimental kicks and punches she tested her range of motion, and then stowed her wand in the holster on her wrist. She grabbed her little red bag, attaching it to her belt, and shoved her old clothes into it.

"One minute," Fury told her, and the last thing he saw of Hermione was her scowl before she turned on the spot and vanished.

Reappearing inside the Quinjet, Hermione turned to the cockpit and came face-to-face with one of Natasha's guns.

She raised her hands in surrender. "Hey, it's just me," she said in a calming tone, and slowly, the guns lowered.

"So you're enhanced," Natasha said, her head tilted slightly. "That explains a bit more why Fury wanted you on the team. The file on you didn't say much – and by that, I mean it said nothing. Which is interesting because, as far as I know, you are a simple S.H.I.E.L.D. scientist researching the tesseract."

Hermione hummed in a non-committal way, explaining nothing. Natasha's eyes narrowed, but before she could demand more information, Steve walked in.

"So, Germany, was it? I don't really have the fondest memories of there, you know," he said as he sat, placing his shield on the floor next to him.

"Stuttgart. We're leaving now." Natasha answered, and Hermione took her seat as they lifted off.

They arrived in Germany soon after.

"Guys, I have eyes on Loki. Multiple copies of him are surrounding civilians, one is speaking – that's probably the real Loki. He has the scepter." Natasha spoke over the intercom as she lowered the hatch so Rogers could jump out. "Crap, a civilian has engaged Loki. He's getting ready to fire – Cap, Hermione, you ready?"

Steve answered by jumping out of the airplane, and Hermione apparated down to the outskirts of the crowd. Surreptitiously casting shield charms around the civilians, she watched as Steve blocked a blue beam of energy from hitting the old man. It bounced back into Loki, who was blasted to the ground. His doubles disappeared and the crowd scattered. Steve watched as Loki slowly got to his knees, the ridiculous golden headpiece somehow still in place. Hermione rolled her eyes. Steve had all the time in the world to hit him again, but does he? No, of course not.

"The soldier," Loki mocked, using the scepter to pull himself to his feet. "The man out of time."

"I'm not the one who's out of time."

Hermione appeared with a crack next to the Captain and began to stalk towards the god, flicking her wand into her hand. Her hair crackled with her magic, the curls bouncing lightly with every step she took. The slight widening of Loki's eyes was the only thing that betrayed his surprise at her sudden arrival. I swear to Merlin, I'm so done with this whole 'you deserve to be ruled over' thing, Hermione thought, annoyed.

"So you are what passes for a god nowadays." She looked at him disdainfully. "I have to say, I'm unimpressed." With a twitch of her wrist she sent a stunner in Loki's direction.

He twisted his body sideways to avoid the bolt of red light, a slow smirk creeping across his face as he looked her up and down. "And I guess you are what passes for an angel, aren't you, Witchling?"

The Quinjet appeared in the air above them, Natasha's voice ringing through the air. "Loki, drop the weapon and stand down." The machine gun whirred to life as it swung around to point at the god. He ignored it, continuing to stare at the witch in front of him.

Hermione glared back at him and, with a jab of her wand, sent a flock of ravens to dive and peck at Loki. He didn't even move – simply grinned and vanished them. She narrowed her eyes, and there was a moment of stillness before she began to fight in earnest, slashing and flicking her wand, throwing curses and hexes his way. He returned fire, sending back blue and green bursts of light that dissipated against her shields. They spun around, ducking and striking with practiced ease, moving so smoothly around the other that it almost looked as if they were dancing – a dangerous dance, yes, but a dance nonetheless. They were both breathing hard when Hermione decided to switch tactics and flexed her wrist, a knife sliding into her palm. She twirled it around so that when she gripped the handle, the blade faced downwards.

He gave a low chuckle. "Such fire, Witchling," he murmured, almost to himself, before there was a soft, green glow, and his hand held a silver-bladed dagger instead of a scepter. As soon as it appeared Hermione rushed at him, and then they were a tangle of swinging blades and limbs. She sliced up at his face only for him to grab her wrist, yanking her towards him. The arm with which he held his dagger snaked around her waist and pinned her arm against her side, the blade scraping against the golden wings on her back, trapping her flush against him. Hermione's other hand, which clutched her knife, was held up next to his face, his tight grip on her wrist preventing her from slashing towards him.

He looked down at her. "You know, angel," he started conversationally, as if they weren't in the middle of trying to maim one another, "you are much more interesting to fight than these weak, fragile mortals." There was a pointed glance thrown towards Steve, who was standing around uselessly, trying to figure out how to intervene without harming Hermione. He glared at the god, who dipped his head closer to hers. "Come with me – we can share the burden of bringing order to this chaotic world," he cajoled her, his voice a whisper.

Hermione snarled. "Like I would willingly go anywhere with someone who thinks wearing golden antlers makes him look impressive. Tell me, what are you overcompensating for?"

To her surprise, Loki leaned his head back and laughed. There was a wicked glint in his eye when he looked back to her. "I'll have you know, Witchling, that I overcompensate for nothing. However, if you'd like to make sure–"

He was cut off by the sound of AC/DC gradually filling the air, and both heads turned towards the red and gold armored man as he flew towards them.

Taking advantage of the distraction, Hermione twisted around and under Loki's arm, breaking his grip, and swung wide at him, but hit only air when he ducked. Trying again, her knife skidded across his own, blades clashing, each pushing into the other. He stepped backwards, and the sudden lack of pressure threw Hermione off balance. As she stumbled forward a step, he quickly cut upwards and his blade caught on her cheek, the long, thin gash immediately starting to bleed. Hermione hissed in pain and he froze for a second, an almost concerned expression flickering across his face.

He took a step towards her and then, without warning, there was a huge, speckled grey wolf where Loki had been. Before she could react he bounded over and pinned her beneath his large paws, knocking the breath out of her. Loki stared at her in his wolf form, tongue lolling as he panted, and he seemed to smirk before giving her face a long, almost gentle lick, right on the thin cut he had inflicted. She jerked back, glaring at him, and Steve had just started to rush over when she shifted.

Loki, almost twice the size of a normal wolf, looked downright small atop the lioness.

A tiny yelp came from the wolf when she threw him off of her and then pounced, reversing their previous positions. The lioness growled, and, in a flash of golden light, Loki shifted into his human form once more, this time in a black suit, the scepter halfway underneath him. Hermione waited a moment more, digging her claws slightly into Loki's chest in warning before turning back as well, this time holding a knife to his throat.

Loki looked at the witch above him with nothing short of reverence.

A slow clap sounded from the sidelines. "Well shit, angel, I'm pretty sure you just topped me in the 'Flashy' department. Tell me, what kind of tech was that, because I will pay you for it."

Hermione quickly bound Loki with an incarcerous and grabbed the scepter before turning to Tony, smirking. "No tech, Tony. I'll give you a demonstration later, no worries."

Stark grinned, then turned to Steve. "Ah, Capsicle, don't look so put out. You just got to watch a beautiful woman take down a god – surely that got the blood pumpin' down south. If not, then – well, maybe that ice did more damage than I thought."

Steve gave a choking cough, then glowered at Tony. "Look here, you–"

Hermione cut in, chiding, "Boys, can we resume measuring once we get into the Quinjet?" Floating Loki behind her, she gestured with the scepter for them to follow her before making her way to the plane.

Tony shared a look with Steve at the casual display of power and gave a low whistle before sauntering after her, Steve not far behind.