Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, Marvel or the characters therein. Nor, sadly, do I make any moneys from the posting of this fanfiction.

Another day, another oneshot! Read, enjoy, and review!

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The Friend

Phil walked into the penthouse flat not knowing what to expect, but it wasn't what he found. Hermione was sitting off to one side sharpening throwing knives, as Natasha was loading clips for her automatic weaponry.

"Hello," Hermione said without looking over to him, as she lifted up the blade to look at more closely. "This blade isn't the best I've ever encountered. It's not the worst, but it could be a lot better. You might have to have your weapons remastered or get yourself better knives." She looked over to the Russian ex-assassin. "I recommend you go to either the Germans or the Japanese for any kind of bladed weaponry in the future. They're excellent craftspeople when it comes to such."

Natasha tilted her head in thought. "I'll do that." She looked over to Coulson. "What can I do for you?"

"Nothing," he answered, nodding over to Hermione. "I'm here to speak to your friend."

"Do you need privacy?"

"That would be nice."

Nat got to her feet, telling Hermione, "I'll go pick us up some lunch. What sounds good to you?"

"Smoked meat sandwiches from that deli down the street would be nice," she answered, wondering what the man wanted from her. It wasn't as if they had much to speak about before this point in time.

"Sides?"

"Whatever you're willing to get," she answered. "Do you need any money?"

"I got it," she called back, as she pulled on her jacket. "I'll be back soon."

Hermione remained silent, as she was waiting for the man to speak.

"My name is…"

"Special Agent Phil Coulson," she said casually. "I know." She leaned back on the sofa, studying his blank face. "What I don't know is what Shield, as small as it is, would want with me."

"It has just been put to the attention of the director that you are good friends with several of our agents." He frowned slightly at this, confusion clear in his blue eyes. "How is that so?"

"How did I become friends with some of the highest agents of the world's most secret agency?" He nodded to this. Thinking it over, she answered, "I really couldn't say one way or the other. We met over the years. But what it was that had us becoming friendly…" She worried her lower lip. "I guess they like the fact that I treat them as if they're normal."

He arched his brow at that. "Normal?"

"Yes, normal." She stood up and went over to him. "It would be as if someone called you by your first name rather than agent, I suppose."

Realization of what she was speaking of hit him. He nodded to this, telling her, "We need agents."

"No thank you," she replied. "I don't wish to work for an agency that can turn on its people like yours has."

"That was Hydra…"

"True," she stated. "But who's to say that more people haven't infiltrated Shield other than Hydra?"

"They haven't…"

"That you know of."

"We know."

She shrugged, as she walked away from him. "Who knows? Maybe you're correct." Plopping down once again, she added, "And maybe you just don't want to know." She held up her hand, stopping him from speaking. "I know that you're more than likely exhausted from cleaning shop. You've checked everyone left with a fine-toothed comb." She sat up, looking at him intently. "But don't you think it's better to have someone on your side that no one knows of other than one or two people. Someone that can go to and be in places you can't?"

He walked over and sat down next to her, inquiring, "What are you proposing?"

"The Sokovia Accords are not Constitutional in the least." He nodded slowly to this, but waited for her to speak. "And Secretary Ross crossed lines no individual in or out of the government should cross when he drew up those accords. It would be not only in the best interests of the United States that the Accords be torn to bits, but Shield as well." She reached over and picked up several business cards from the coffee table and handed them to him. "Hire them. Make them work to demolish the accords. Then, and only then, will we have something to speak about."

He looked over the cards, asking, "So you won't work for us unless we work on getting rid of Ross, in other words?"

"Ross would be yelling into the storm whether the Accords existed or not," she said. "Your job, other than taking care of civilians, is to take care of the agents working for you as well. And if you can't do that, you won't be able to do much of anything—good, bad, or indifferent." His eyes snapped over to her. "That's a fact and you know it."

Phil looked once more to the cards. "So you have the best interests of the agents?"

"A few of them are my good friends," she told him. "I don't want them or their families hurt by what's going on." She arched her brow. "Do you?"

Sighing heavily, he answered, "No, I don't." Phil let himself lean back onto the sofa, letting himself relax for the first time in a while. "What do you do for fun around here?"

"You mean other than tutoring people in mathematics, translating ancient languages for the local university under the table, and attempting to find the newest edition of a book you never heard of?" She sat up, asking him, "Have you ever heard of something called cyber currency?"

"Certainly."

"It's a hobby of mine," she told him.

"Really? How much have you made so far?"

Phil was still staring at her in shock five minutes later when Natasha arrived with their meals.

TBC…

…

And there's another oneshot ringing out through the Internet. Thanks for reading. I'm hoping you're all doing well. Take care and stay safe. Oh yeah, and remember to remain in awesome town—population you!