Recommendation: Story recommendation for this chapter is "Uncle Quentin's Spy" by Starfox5. Hermione never even knew she had a great-uncle named Quentin Travers, but he knew about her, and after her fourth year at Hogwarts, he wants to work with her and her friend Harry to fight the darkness. Buffy and the Scoobies don't appear in this crossover, but apparently they will appear in a coming sequel. H/Hr, of course, like Starfox5's other stories.
Chapter 4 - Date Night
Unidentified Restaurant, Maybe French. California.
Dinner with Hermione had been... awkward, to say the least. Stark's hasty arrangement notwithstanding, Iris had been looking forward to it. She had even managed to pull an outfit from her bag which turned out to be the right combination of dressy and casual for an early dinner at the place. She hadn't been seated for ten minutes, though, before the "date" started going pear-shaped.
First, Hermione had been late. So late, in fact, that the waiter had become rather obvious in his pity for Iris, thinking that she had been stood up by some cad. Then, once Hermione finally got there, she tried to rush through everything, sending the clear message that she didn't want to be there and hoped to leave again as soon as possible.
Even the wait staff recognized her behavior for what it was, and Iris was sure that if they hadn't been consummate professionals, one of them would have dumped the soup on Hermione's head for being so rude. I'm going to have to give them an extra-large tip, Iris thought to herself.
The problem was, Iris had a pretty good idea why Hermione was acting this way. If she were reading all the evidence correctly, Tony Stark was dying, and Hermione was neck-deep in the effort to find a cure. Of course she's preoccupied. Of course she wants to get back to the lab. She was the same way back at Hogwarts when exams were coming or when that year's Let's Kill Iris adventure was coming to a head. It's hard to blame her, isn't it?
On the other hand, Iris considered, I'm not supposed to know any of that. As far as she knows, I'm in town to keep an eye on Tony for a while. Since I'm supposed to be unaware of her having a good excuse for acting like this, I shouldn't let her get away with it. And since she hasn't tried to give me a good excuse, she shouldn't be allowed to get away with it. And quite frankly, I don't want to let her get away with it! But I'll be generous and try guilt first...
Clearing her throat as she watched Hermione wolf down the remains of her expensive main course, Iris said in a soft voice, "You don't want to be here with me, do you, Hermione?"
"What?" Hermione asked as she looked up. "I'm sorry, what did you say?"
Sighing, Iris repeated her question. This time, she made sure to keep her eyes a bit wide so as to play up the pathetic angle without overdoing it.
Hermione's stricken look made it clear that Iris had hit her mark perfectly. "No! That's not it at all! I want to... well... OK, I am working on something important and I guess it has me a little preoccupied right now."
"A little?" Iris asked incredulously. "Hermione, you've barely said a dozen words to me all through dinner — and that includes the greeting you gave me when you got here. Late."
Hermione had the decency to blush in shame at that.
Going in for the kill, Iris added, "And do I need to compare how you've been eating to the table manners of a certain male Weasley of our mutual acquaintance?"
Hermione's gasp of horror told Iris that she'd nailed her mark once again. And the BAFTA award for best female actress in a dramatic role goes to...
Slumping in her seat, Hermione gently put her fork down next to her plate and looked up at Iris. "I'm sorry. You're right. What I'm doing is important but... we... you're important, too. I know that we still have a long way to go, but I can't forget that it's going to take some effort from both of us. I can't ignore you and expect everything to go well."
Iris smiled and decided to show some mercy and switch to playing 'good cop' now. "It's OK, I understand. It's not like I haven't seen this sort of behavior before, because it's not the first time you've been caught up in something important. I can see that it matters a lot to you, but are you taking time out for yourself? Taking regular breaks? If you get too involved in your work, your efficiency and productivity go down. The two of us aside, you do need to get out some. How many times did I have to drag you out of the library to at least take a walk around the Black Lake?"
"Thank you," Hermione said. "You're right again. No, I guess I haven't been taking the breaks that I should. And I've been totally blowing this one off, too, instead of taking advantage of it."
"Would you like to talk about it?" Iris asked, hoping that a gentle, probing question wouldn't sound too suspicious. "I know you've got fellow researchers to talk to, but sometimes airing out a problem to an outsider who doesn't share the usual assumptions can help." She took a sip of her wine with studied nonchalance.
"No, I'm sorry, I can't," Hermione replied regretfully. "This project is too secret. Hardly anyone knows about it, not even my colleagues. Honestly, I kind of wish I could bounce ideas off someone, even someone like you who doesn't have any expertise in this field. You're right that talking to someone helps, but I can't do it. Maybe I can ask Ton... no, no, forget I said anything."
OK, strike one, Iris thought, suppressing a frown. Let's try this from a different angle.
"Did you say Tony?" Iris asked, trying to sound casual. "Speaking of him, my meeting with him earlier was odd. Has he been acting strangely, do you think? Pepper said he had been. For two or three months. Is he alright?"
Hermione stiffened briefly before answering, "What? Yes! He's fine! I mean, as far as I know, he's fine. Not that I would know anything about his health..." She abruptly stopped in mid-sentence and fixed Iris with a pointed glare. In a low, suspicious voice she said, "What do you know?"
"Know?" Iris asked, desperately trying to salvage this. "About what?"
Hermione's eyes had narrowed by this point, and if Iris weren't mistaken, her now-wavy hair was starting to go frizzy and bushy right before her eyes. Oh, shit! Abort! Abort! Iris thought. The last time I saw it this bad was when Ron announced to the common room that Hermione was a girl.
During their fifth year, the two witches had finally figured out the reason why Hermione's hair was so untameably bushy and frizzy: it was acting as a conduit for her excess magic. If she used enough magic in classes, it relaxed into wavy curls. If she became angry without getting a chance to hex people, it expanded into ever greater bushiness, much like dry hair in winter can become full of static. So what Iris was seeing now was a definite sign that Hermione was mad — and very close to hexing, the Statute of Secrecy be damned.
"What. Do. You. Know?" Hermione demanded in a low, menacing tone.
There goes my BAFTA award, Iris lamented. Deciding to adopt a more assertive stance, she answered, "I can't say that I know anything. And even if I did know something, I could hardly talk about it here in public, now could I?"
Tossing her napkin on the table, Hermione announced, "We're done here. Pay so we can leave and go someplace to talk." She stood up, never taking her eyes off of Iris. "I'm going to freshen up. I expect us to be able to leave by the time I get back."
Sighing, Iris motioned for the sympathetic-looking waiter so she could take care of the bill. Definitely one of my top five worst dates of all time... though not as bad as when I let that Lohan chick pick me up and take me home earlier this year, only to have her girlfriend walk in on us. A vision of Hermione's narrowed eyes and frizzy hair suddenly overwhelmed her thoughts. Then again, the night is still young...
Tony Stark's Home, Malibu, California.
Piercing his skin, Tony Stark drew up a drop of blood and pressed it against his analyzer. After a few seconds, the readout delivered the bad news: blood toxicity 20%.
"It's getting worse, sir," came JARVIS' observation.
"Yeah, I know," Tony mumbled.
"Shouldn't Ms. Granger still be here working, sir?" JARVIS asked, "It's relatively early."
"No, I gave her the rest of the day and night off," Tony replied. "Iris is in town and wanted to see her, so I sent them to... uh... some restaurant I heard about. French, I think. Doesn't matter, though, I heard it's good and I want them to have a nice time."
"It's been a while since Ms. Potter has been in town, and I know that Ms. Granger has felt her absence," JARVIS noted.
"Yeah, I got that impression," Tony said, his mind still working through options for what to do about the death sentence hanging over his head.
"Incoming call from Ms. Potts, sir," JARVIS announced.
"Tony!"
"Hey, Pepper, what's up?"
"Tony, I was wondering if you wanted to have dinner," Pepper said. "We haven't done that in a while — I thought it might be nice to take some time off."
Tony barely heard what she said, he was so distracted; but he did know that she was asking for time he couldn't afford to spare. "That sounds nice, Pepper, but I'm going to have to take a rain check," Tony replied. "I've got too much here that I need to work on."
"Oh. OK, Tony. If you're sure." The disappointment in her voice was obvious, but Tony didn't notice because he'd already moved on from her call to the next problem he was trying to solve. "I guess I'll talk to you tomorrow then," she concluded.
"Yeah, bye, Pepper," he said absently, neither knowing nor caring how dismissive his voice sounded.
"Are you sure that was wise, sir?" JARVIS asked. "You could do with a bit of time to relax, too."
"No can do," Tony said, already heading down to his lab. "I can't sit around wasting time on dinners if I'm going to have any chance of beating this. Now, bring up the data on that last molecular bonding test we did. I want to see if a different type of alloy will stand up to the neutron radiation..."
Coastal Highway, California.
Iris paid the bill and had to hurry to keep up with Hermione as she stalked out of the restaurant. Iris didn't bother asking about which car they would take or if she should follow; she just went with Hermione and got in the passenger side. Once they were moving, Iris spoke for the first time. "So, where are we going?"
The way Hermione's hands gripped the steering wheel, it was clear that she was angry and trying to hold it in. After a minute, she finally answered. "We have to have two conversations. The first is about Tony: what you know, how you know it, and what you're going to do about it. The second is about us and why you chose to play me like a mark back there in the restaurant."
After another minute, she continued, "I'd like to take you to Tony's house. That's where I'm working, so it seems like the best place to hash all of this out."
Iris wasn't happy with that suggestion. "If we go to Tony's house, then Tony will learn everything I tell you, and I don't think that's acceptable. There are things he can't know, at least not yet; so if you want to learn more from me, then you have to pick a different spot."
Sighing, Hermione replied, "But I know his house is secure. Where else can we go?"
"We can go to my spot," Iris suggested.
"It's secure, true, but it's your private place," Hermione pointed out. "I'm mad at you, and I won't feel comfortable going to... well, your territory, for lack of a better word."
Iris thought about that and had to agree that it was reasonable. The two conversations would probably go more easily if Hermione felt more comfortable, which meant a place of hers. "Do you have a private place like mine?" Iris asked.
Hermione hesitated, then answered, "Yes, a couple in fact. One is hidden in Idaho, but it can probably be traced to me if someone tried hard enough, so it's not quite as secure as I'd like. I have another... but it's too far away for me to apparate to, and you've never been there. Besides, in my current mood I'm not sure I like the idea of taking you there. No one knows about it."
Iris frowned, concerned that Hermione had been driven to such an extreme. "If you let me look into your mind, I can get the location and apparate us there. So you'll need to decide what's more important: keeping that location secret even from me, or having a place for private conversations where you'll feel most comfortable and secure."
Iris knew that it wasn't fair asking her to make such a choice, but there weren't many options here and she was the one insisting on this conversation in the first place.
Eventually, Hermione said, "OK, I'll let you take us there, but I want your promise that you'll never tell anyone about it. This place is not merely private, it's personal. It means something to me." Iris could hear the emotion in Hermione's voice and didn't hesitate to make that promise.
They ended up going to Tony Stark's house first anyway. Hermione had been working so many hours on her project that she had moved into one of his spare bedrooms, so it only made sense to go there so she could leave the car. Once she had changed, though, Iris used legilimency to extract the information from Hermione's mind — making a point of taking her time and stumbling about to significantly downplay her skills.
Then, with a twist, they popped away.
Littledean, Gloucestershire, England.
Iris and Hermione appeared in front of a small stone house, set back far enough in the woods that whatever road led here wasn't visible. Even though it was the middle of the night, the light of the moon combined with Iris' enhanced vision was enough for her to see that the house was old but well maintained. Everything was clean and in good repair. There were flowers planted beneath the windows, a fairly large porch, and even a swing hanging beneath one of the older trees.
"Where are we, exactly?" Iris asked as Hermione began to cast spells at her, keying her into the house's wards.
Hermione looked as though she wasn't going to answer at first, but finally her face softened slightly and she said, "This house used to belong to my grandmother on my mother's side. It's apparently been in their family for generations, and because the name associated with it is my mother's maiden name, no one can easily connect it to me. That's made it a nice refuge. It gives me a secure place to stay whenever I'm in Britain."
As she inserted the key and opened the door, she continued. "The nearest town is Littledean. We're in Gloucestershire in the Forest of Dean."
"Really?" Iris asked as she followed Hermione into the house. Neither noticed the young raven that sat in one of the older trees, watching them. "The Forest of Dean? I had no idea that you owned any property here. I only thought that your family did some camping."
"Oh, we did that, too," Hermione responded as she removed sheets that were covering the furniture. "In fact, the area in which my family went camping the most and where the two of us put up our tent is only about an hour's hike from here. I never brought us to this house, though, because I didn't want to compromise it. I wanted to save it as a last resort."
"You don't have to explain," Iris assured her with a wave of her hand. "I completely understand..." Iris paused for a minute as she processed this new information. "Wait, a last resort?" Hermione nodded. "So... when you asked about staying in the Forest of Dean, forgetting about my destiny and growing old together... you didn't mean that tatty old tent, did you?"
Hermione didn't blush or look away. She looked Iris square in the eyes and shook her head.
"You... meant here?" Iris continued. "If I had said yes, would you have brought me here? Tried to make a life... a home? Here? With me?"
Hermione nodded again.
Iris sat heavily on the newly uncovered couch and took a deep, ragged breath. "Every time I think I've plumbed the depths of how badly I've cocked things up in my life, I'm confronted with yet another massive cockup."
Hermione sat down on the couch next to Iris — close, but not too close. "No, Iris, this isn't one of them. That was just a dream. A fantasy. There was no way you could have avoided your destiny. Sooner or later you'd have had to face Voldemort. We could have moved in here, yes, but we wouldn't have been able to stay here forever. They'd have found us eventually."
Iris looked up and gave her a small smile. "I suppose," she said, "but that doesn't mean that I'm not going to spend a lot of nights now dreaming about having said "yes" to your suggestion. It may have been a fantasy, but I think it was a nice fantasy. In fact, I did dream about it quite a few times — though always in the tent of course. Sharing body heat to ward off the cold." She looked around the small living room more closely before adding, "This is definitely better than the tent. It's small, but cozy. I could see setting up house here. With you."
Now Hermione did blush a little and looked away, but it only lasted for a few seconds. Looking back at Iris, she said sternly, "I'll admit it's tempting, but that doesn't mean that you're getting out of the conversations we have to have."
Iris held up her hands in a gesture of surrender. "I'm not trying to, honest. This discussion is making me feel... nostalgic, I guess. It's bringing up a lot of old memories and feelings. Anyway, I don't suppose you have the supplies here for tea? It's not too early for tea, is it? Or too late?"
Snorting, Hermione stood and made her way to the kitchen. "Of course I've got the supplies. And of course it's not too late. Rain or shine, it's always time for tea in Britain."
Once tea was served, Hermione wasn't willing to put up with any more stalling. "OK, we have our tea. Now talk. What do you know?"
After taking a sip, Iris began, "First, what I'm about to tell you is classified. I wasn't explicitly told not to divulge any of this, but it was implied. Put simply, I'm about to break the law and could theoretically be put in a deep, dark, hole somewhere for saying this. Not that said hole could ever hold me, granted, but it's the principle of the thing."
Hermione looked suitably chastened, finally recognizing that she had been demanding that Iris break the law and risk her career.
"S.H.I.E.L.D. has received multiple pieces of intelligence pointing to the conclusion that there is something wrong with Tony Stark, probably some sort of illness," Iris continued. "No one has been able to say for sure that that is the problem, never mind what sort of illness it might be, but that's where the evidence leads." Hermione nodded at this, not surprised that Tony's odd behavior had come to other people's notice.
"I've since been able to figure out that there is something wrong with the arc reactor in his chest — something toxic that's killing him. Fury had a feeling that you might be working on helping find a cure, which makes sense because you're the only magical working for him, and I've since been able to confirm that as well."
Hermione gaped at her friend, shocked at what she'd heard. "How... what... I can't believe that you know so much already. Where'd you get that sort of information?"
"I'm not going to tell you," Iris answered directly.
"What?" Hermione cried out in indignation. "Why not?
"Simple. You're not a part of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Iris told her. "You don't have the security clearance for that kind of information. I only broke regs telling you what we do know because I was convinced that it's all information you already had, so it's not like you'd be learning anything new. But when it comes to how we develop our intelligence? Sorry, hon, but I'm not talking."
Hermione tried to get angry at that, but she was having trouble managing it. She had a long-standing habit of thinking that she had a right to any knowledge or information that existed. She knew it was wrong and that it was something she needed to keep a reign on, especially at times like this, but it could be difficult.
"Fine," she eventually ground out, not the least bit happy, but unable to formulate any sort of reasonable argument that she should be told everything.
"I'm sorry to disappoint you, Hermione, I really am," Iris tried to placate her. "If you were a part of S.H.I.E.L.D. you'd be privy to all this already. But you're not. I work for an intelligence and defense organization that keeps secrets — lots of secrets. That means I know lots and lots of things I can't tell you."
This calmed Hermione down. A little. Remembering that the information she was being denied wasn't simply classified, but was part of a much larger system of classified material helped remind her of her place in the grand scheme of things.
"OK," Hermione finally said, "you know a lot. So why are you here? Is that terrorist threat story a lie?"
"As to the terrorists," Iris answered, "that's hard to answer. There are lots of threats against Tony. I'm sure the threat I came here about is real. However, I doubt that it's special or unusual. I suspect that Fury grabbed one of the latest and played it up a bit. So it's not a lie, but it's not exactly a crisis, either. Certainly nothing that would justify sending in little old me to deal with."
Hermione nodded, not surprised to hear that.
"As to why I'm here," Iris continued, "My first mission is to ascertain Tony's status. Is he truly sick? Is it just a misunderstanding? If he's sick, does he need help or does he have it in hand? The answers to those questions will determine how I proceed. At the very least, I'm to keep an eye on him and report back if his condition worsens. If S.H.I.E.L.D. has something to offer, I'll be in place to make sure that the help reaches him."
Hermione nodded again, finding it all reasonable. She finished her tea and put down her cup before starting in on the next conversation. "Now," she began, "for the part that affects the two of us personally. Why the bloody hell did you treat me like a mark back in the restaurant? Why didn't you come and talk to me? Why didn't you approach me honestly instead of trying to wheedle information out of me with an act and half truths? We're supposed to be building trust here, Iris. How can I trust you when you treat me like that?"
Iris gaped at her, bewildered that she'd ask such questions. "Why? Why? Hermione, this is my job! Don't you get it? This is what I do. I approach people, ask questions, and get information without them realizing it."
Iris abruptly stood up and started pacing. She had never been one to easily sit still, especially when stressed. She always needed to be in motion, and she usually thought best when moving.
"What would you expect me or S.H.I.E.L.D. to do, anyway?" she asked. "We didn't know what was going on. Sure, the evidence pointed to a problem, and a health problem in particular, but we couldn't know for sure. We aren't going to storm into his office, demanding answers. We're an intelligence agency. Whenever possible, we try to act discreetly, subtly, carefully. We send someone in to look into things. If we find out that we were right, then we offer discreet help; if we were wrong, we walk away and no one is embarrassed or upset."
Iris then turned and looked directly at Hermione. "And I did ask you questions. Granted, I didn't lay all my cards out on the table up front, but I also didn't lie to you. I asked what you were working on. I asked how Tony was doing. I gave you the chance to be honest with me. Oh, sure, I figured that you probably couldn't — and that didn't bother me. I wasn't the least bit upset that you might have given a promise to Tony that you wouldn't say anything. How could I, since I've given a promise to S.H.I.E.L.D. to not talk about certain things? I was mostly fishing for any little tidbits of information that might fill the gaps in what I already had. If I got anything, great. If not, that was fine, too — I was most interested in spending a nice evening having dinner and maybe more with you."
Hermione was dumbfounded. She had been convinced that she was in the right here. She'd been certain of it! But everything Iris was saying made too much sense. Of course S.H.I.E.L.D. would make discreet inquiries about issues that concerned them. Of course Iris wouldn't tell her everything right at the first meeting — and that wasn't taking into account the fact that Hermione had barely paid any attention to her during the meal.
Taking a deep breath, Hermione forced out the words she rarely had to say and never particularly liked: "You're right Iris, and I'm sorry. I still don't like that you came to us — that you came to Tony at least, if not also me — under false pretenses, but now that you've explained it, I can understand why you operate that way. You can't enter a building a tell everyone what you're doing. It bothers me that you keep so many secrets and trust so few people, but that's a personal thing. Given your job and the responsibilities of S.H.I.E.L.D., it's hard to fault the general attitude."
Iris sat down again, this time closer to Hermione, and put her hand on her friend's. "For what it's worth, I'm sorry, too. I didn't like holding back on you, especially since I knew more about the situation than you realized. Because of that, you did have a point in complaining about me playing you — I pretended to be as ignorant as you assumed. But the fact is, I can't always tell you everything about what I know or what I'm doing, not even when they involve Tony Stark or Stark Industries. So there will be cases where I am obligated to play dumb. That doesn't mean that I'm deliberately lying to you, it means that I have secrets I have to keep."
Hermione nodded, then placed her other hand over Iris'. "I guess I understand. It's going to be hard getting used to it. We haven't spent enough time together yet to talk about these things."
"You're right about that," Iris agreed. "And we probably should. Unfortunately, it will be tough to do so while avoiding divulging secrets."
Hermione smiled at that, then continued. "But let's leave that aside for now. Can you offer any help for Tony?" The tone of hope in her voice was unmistakable. "I was able to modify one potion that helped reduce the symptoms for a little while, but it stopped working. I'm optimistic that further development will produce an even better potion, but I'm not sure that it will do more than hold back the symptoms for a short time."
"Sorry, there's nothing I can do to help," Iris answered. "Or at least, not at the moment. Now that I know more, I'll file a report and we'll see what happens. Maybe some of the research brains at S.H.I.E.L.D. will have something to offer, but that's not going to happen until I give them something to work with. I won't ask you to give me any details, but I'll have to ask you to keep quiet about what I'm doing."
Hermione looked uncomfortable at that, so Iris continued, "Look, my primary mission of keeping an eye on him to make sure he doesn't get any worse isn't that far off from my cover mission of keeping an eye on him to make sure terrorists don't kidnap or kill him. It's the opponent that's slightly different. Unless you think he'll be willing to turn over all his data to S.H.I.E.L.D. for review, then him knowing about me won't help you or him."
Sighing, Hermione answered, "No, he won't turn over that data. I suppose you're right that him knowing won't change anything, but it's the principle of the thing. I feel like I'm lying by not telling him — and when he finds out, he'll stop trusting me because he'll assume, rightly, that I knew but kept the information from him."
Iris leaned back in her seat to ponder that. "Yeah, you're right. You've got a good head for intelligence ops."
Hermione made a face. "I'm trying to decide if that's a compliment or an insult."
Iris smiled. "Coming from me, it's definitely a compliment. OK, you're right that you can't keep this from him, at least not forever. And you shouldn't have to. Sooner or later, I think Fury will want to talk to him, especially if we can offer any help. I'll check with Fury, but maybe we can have you spill the beans about me shortly before Fury wants to come clean anyway. That way, you preserve trust because you do tell him, but you'll also be giving me a chance to do my job, at least for a little bit."
Hermione looked dubious at that. "That still sounds like I'm deceiving him."
"Depends on how you look at it," Iris countered. "Remember, not knowing isn't hurting him and knowing won't help him. So delaying telling him by a day, a week, or a month won't change anything. Telling him now, though, might prevent me from doing my job properly, and that might deny S.H.I.E.L.D. information that they can use to help him. And we wouldn't have to do this if he'd share his data with outside researchers. Yes, I can understand why he won't, but it's still a mistake for him to assume that he can and should do everything alone."
Hermione smirked. "That's pretty rich coming from you, Iris."
"Hey," Iris said with a pout, "I've gotten better. I may still generally work alone, but I don't refuse all offers of help. Much." Looking away, she added under her breath, "I certainly wouldn't refuse any offers from you..."
Hermione gave a deep sigh. "OK, I guess I can hold off saying anything. If he asks me a direct question, I don't think I'll be able to avoid telling him the truth... or at least present the truth as suspicions I have. Outside of that, however, I'll keep your secrets. For now."
Iris smiled and said, "Thanks. I do appreciate it. Do you want to apparate back now?"
Yawning, Hermione shook her head. "No, it's getting late." With a rueful glance at the sunlight now peeking through the curtains, she added, "Well, it feels like it's late, at any rate. We can crash here and return after we've had some sleep."
Iris looked around, noticing again how small the place was. "Your house doesn't look big enough to have a spare bedroom."
Stretching as she stood up, which caused all sorts of tingling sensations for Iris, Hermione responded, "Nope, just one bed and one bedroom." Iris raised one eyebrow as she looked at Hermione, who blushed. "Don't get any funny ideas," she said. "You are sleeping on this couch. I'll go get you a pillow and blanket, so make yourself comfortable."
Walking away, she didn't see Iris' pout. Iris didn't see Hermione's soft smile.
For some reason, neither witch found it easy to get to sleep.