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Chapter 40: The Consultants
🕑 Added 2025-09-04 08:18:02 +0000 UTCTony stared at Pepper, his face a mask of wounded pride. “I had it under control.”
“No, you didn’t,” Pepper said, her voice soft but unyielding. She stepped closer, her hand resting gently on his arm. “Tony, you can’t do this all by yourself. The armor is powerful, but you are not the armor. You’re a man. You get tired, you make mistakes. What happens when the next Obadiah comes along and there’s no one there to save you? I can’t… we can’t go through that again.” She wasn’t just talking about his safety; she was talking about his loneliness, about the crushing weight he was trying to carry all on his own.
Tony fell silent. He looked at the wreckage of his home, at the memory of his own helplessness as Obadiah ripped the life from his chest. She was right. He had almost died. Again.
“Miss Potts is correct, Stark,” Fury’s deep voice cut through the silence. “This world is infinitely larger and more complicated than you know. There are things hidden in the dark that would make your Iron Monger look like a child’s toy.” He gestured with his chin toward Hermione, who was watching them with a quiet, unnerving intensity. “A month ago, did you believe in magic? In a hidden world with its own schools and governments? You think you’re the only impossible thing out there? You’re not even the most impossible thing in this room. The Avengers Initiative is not about replacing you. It’s about making sure you’re not alone when the real threats arrive.”
The argument was sound. It was logical. And it came at the one moment in Tony’s life when his own ego was fractured enough to let the logic in.
“I’ll think about it,” he finally said, the words tasting like a concession.
Fury nodded, recognizing the victory. Now came the next phase. “In the meantime,” he said, his tone shifting, “there’s another matter. S.H.I.E.L.D. would like to formally invite you to become our primary technology consultant.”
Tony let out a short, humorless laugh. “You couldn’t afford my hourly rate.” He paused, then a slow, familiar smirk returned to his face. “But, seeing as you did a decent job protecting Pepper last night, I suppose I can lend you my brainpower. As a friend.” He added, mostly for his own benefit, “Don’t read too much into it.”
Having secured one asset, Fury turned his attention to the other, far more valuable one. “Miss Wizard,” he began, his voice taking on a more respectful tone, “regarding the Avengers…”
“Whoa, hold on a second,” Tony interrupted, stepping in front of Hermione protectively. His eyes narrowed. “What, now you’re recruiting child soldiers, Fury? We adults can’t handle it, so you’re going to ask a twelve-year-old to go fight your battles for you?”
I absolutely would if I thought I could get away with it, Fury thought. But he knew, looking at the protective stances of both Tony and Pepper, that it was a non-starter. “You misunderstand, Mr. Stark,” he said smoothly. “I would never put a child in harm’s way. I merely wish to extend a similar offer to Miss Granger. Not as a technology consultant, but as a consultant for… the mystical arts.”
“Me?” Hermione asked, pointing at herself with a look of wide-eyed surprise.
“Precisely,” Fury said, turning on the charm. “You come from a world we know nothing about. The knowledge you possess could be vital to protecting this planet from threats we don’t even understand yet. With your assistance, S.H.I.E.L.D. can better uphold justice and fight evil.”
Hermione’s eyes lit up with a sudden, genuine excitement. “So… I’d be like a professor? From Hogwarts? I could teach people?”
“Of course,” Fury nodded, sensing an opening.
“And can I use physical punishment on the stupid students?” she asked, a devilish grin spreading across her face.
Fury’s professional smile faltered. “…Excuse me?”
“You know,” she continued cheerfully, “detention, extra homework, maybe turn them into a ferret for a little while if they’re particularly annoying…”
He stared at her, a cold sweat breaking out on his brow. He was beginning to think this might be a terrible, terrible idea. “As long as,” he said, hesitating for a rare moment, “you don’t permanently harm any of my agents…” He decided to pivot. “It would be even better if you were willing to teach them a spell or two.”
And there it is, Hermione thought. The real request.
She shook her head, her expression turning serious. “It’s not that I don’t want to, it’s that I can’t. Magic chooses the wizard, you see. People with magical potential are very rare, and the Ministry has ways of monitoring them. Any magical child born anywhere in the world is found and recruited by one of the major wizarding schools long before you Muggles would ever notice them.”
“Is there no other way?” Fury pressed, a hint of desperation in his voice.
“No,” Hermione said simply. “It’s possible, in theory, to allow a Muggle to use an enchanted object to cast a simple spell, but it’s incredibly difficult, the effect is weak, and it would immediately alert the Ministry’s Aurors. You don’t want a squad of magical police kicking down your door to arrest your agents, do you?”
Fury fell silent, the dream of a magical army dying before it could even form.
“So you’re really going to be a consultant for these spooks?” Tony asked, looking at Hermione with a frown.
“Why not?” she shrugged. “It sounds interesting.” In her mind, the real reason was far more strategic. The world needs to learn about magic eventually. I might as well be the one to control the narrative.
Tony turned to Fury, his expression shifting into that of a ruthless businessman. “Alright, Fury. If she’s going to be a consultant, let’s talk salary. What are you paying her?”
Fury blinked. “Salary?” He had honestly assumed he could get her for free, appealing to her childish sense of heroism.
“What, you thought you were going to get away with hiring a child laborer and not even paying her?” Tony sneered. “This isn’t the nineteenth century. Given her unique value, what’s your offer?”
“A million a year?” Fury ventured, testing the waters.
Tony laughed out loud. “A million? That’s an insult. You know what? I’ll offer her ten million a month to be an exclusive consultant for Stark Industries. Your move, eyepatch.”
Fury’s face darkened. He was being played, and he knew it. He looked to Hermione for help, but she was just poking her cheek with a finger, a thoughtful look on her face.
“You know,” she said, cutting through the tense, high-stakes bidding war, “I don’t really need money.” She looked at Fury, her expression one of pure, innocent curiosity. “But… those TV shows say that organizations like yours have a lot of… interesting things. Old things. Things you find that you can’t explain. I’m a collector.”
She gave him a sweet, disarming smile. “Instead of money, how about you just give me access? To your archives. To your collections. To all your most interesting secrets.”
Fury stared at her, his mind reeling. Access? To the Vault? To the 0-8-4 files? She wasn’t asking for money. She was asking for the keys to his entire secret kingdom.
