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Snowing_Melody

Snowing_Melody

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Chapter 69: Indecent Exposure

"Blonsky!" The name was a choked, horrified gasp from General Ross. He stared at the monster on the street below, at the grotesque culmination of his life's work, and saw not a super-soldier, but a walking, roaring monument to his own obsessive failure.
"You did this!" Banner yelled, his voice raw with an agony that went beyond fear. He grabbed the front of Ross's tactical vest. "You gave hi...

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Chapter 68: The Devil You Know

"She's gone to get ready," Tony said, a hint of a pout in his voice. "Pepper and I are flying to Monaco for the Grand Prix. Business. The plane's waiting." He looked around his workshop, a silent warning in his eyes. "You are in charge of the house. Try not to, you know, burn it down, summon any demons, or accidentally turn the toaster into a dragon while I'm gone."
Hermione, who was careful...

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Chapter 67: Potions, Proposals, and Poor Timing

The air in Tony Stark's workshop, usually a clean, sterile environment smelling of ozone and ionized metal, was now thick with the cloying, earthy scent of something vaguely like boiled cabbage and sulfur. In the center of the pristine lab, a small, black cauldron bubbled merrily over a magically sustained blue flame.
"Five parts powdered moonstone," Hermione muttered to herself, her tongue ...

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Chapter 65: An Unscheduled Flight

Hermione watched the Weasley family bustle around King's Cross Station, a perfect, chaotic storm of red hair and secondhand robes. She had to give Lucius Malfoy credit, she mused. His petty, short-sighted act of revenge—slipping a sliver of his master's soul into a poor pure-blood girl's cauldron—was, in the grand, cosmic scheme of things, an act of sheer, unintentional genius. It was a mov...

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Chapter 64: The Malfoy Legacy

"…Go on, then."
The words were squeezed from Malfoy's throat, a strangled whisper of surrender. The raw, primal terror he felt in Hermione's presence was, at that moment, just barely outweighed by the intoxicating, desperate allure of the spotlight. For his entire life, he had lived in Harry Potter's shadow. Now, he finally had a chance to share the stage.
He practically ran towards Loc...

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Chapter 63: The Perils of Fame

"Harry! Hermione!"
Molly Weasley's voice, sharp with a frantic relief, cut through the bustling noise of Diagon Alley. The moment she saw them emerge from the shadowed entrance to Knockturn Alley, she was upon them, her warm, maternal presence a whirlwind of fussing and fretting.
"Oh, thank heavens! We were so worried! I thought we'd lost you both!"
"We found him, Mrs. Weasley," Hermio...

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Chapter 62: A Mutually Beneficial Arrangement

"How did you know?" Borgin's voice was a low, suspicious rasp, his greasy smile gone, replaced by the hard, flat expression of a cornered animal.
He stared at the small girl who stood calmly in his den of dark wonders. The air in the shop was thick with the dust of ages and the faint, cloying smell of blood and regret that clung to the cursed objects lining the walls.
"My shop is a legiti...

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Chapter 61: An Unscheduled Detour

The loophole in the Ministry's Trace was, Hermione thought, a perfect encapsulation of the wizarding world itself: ancient, powerful, and riddled with charmingly idiotic security flaws. It was this flaw that allowed her, in the crisp, early morning air of the Weasley's backyard, to finally practice her craft without restraint. She moved through the complex somatic components of a dozen new spel...

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Chapter 60: A Muggle Kind of Magic

Harry stared at the empty staircase where Ginny Weasley had just been, a look of pure bewilderment on his face. "Was it something I said?"
Ron let out a long, suffering sigh, as if bearing the weight of the world on his shoulders. "My sister," he explained, his voice full of a deep, fraternal annoyance. "She hasn't shut up about you all summer. 'Did you know Harry Potter has green eyes?' 'Di...

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Chapter 59: The Burrow

Hermione lay on her bed, staring at the perfectly ordinary, non-magical ceiling of her suburban London bedroom, bored out of her mind. Goose, the Flerken, was a warm, purring lump of orange fur at the foot of her bed. He seemed to sense her profound ennui, letting out a soft meow before tucking his head under his paws and resuming his nap.
After kidnapping the creature from Fury, she'd been ...

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Chapter 58: A Conversation Between Kings

From her perch on a gargoyle atop a distant skyscraper, Hermione watched, invisible, as Alexander Pierce scrambled around on his penthouse balcony, trying to retrieve his own severed ear. A quiet, cold satisfaction settled over her.
The attack tonight had been a necessity. The HYDRA assault had been a probe, a test of her capabilities. A simple, brutal retaliation against the soldiers would ...

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Chapter 57: A Visit to the Minister

"Who's there?!"
Alexander Pierce spun on his heel, a sleek, custom-made pistol appearing in his hand with the fluid, practiced ease of a man who had lived his entire life in a state of professional paranoia. The quiet, luxurious living room of his penthouse was empty. The shadows were exactly where they were supposed to be.
A hallucination? No. His instincts, honed over fifty years of nav...

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Chapter 56: A Conversation Between Gods

The question hung in the serene, incense-scented air of Kamar-Taj. It was not an interrogation. It was a simple, profound query from one cosmic anomaly to another.

Hermione's mind, which had been racing, analyzing, and preparing a dozen different layers of lies, suddenly went still. Lying to Nick Fury was easy. He was a man playing a game of shadows and secrets, a game she understood impl...

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Chapter 55: The Sorcerer Supreme

Ava's relief was a fragile, beautiful thing. For the first time in years, the horrifying, constant static of her body being torn apart at a quantum level had ceased. She felt… solid. Whole. The absence of pain was a sensation so profound, so overwhelming, that it brought tears to her eyes. This small, strange girl hadn't just healed her; she had given her back her life.
Her loyalty, in tha...

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Chapter 54: The Ghost and the Witch

The syringe was inches from her neck. Time seemed to slow to a crawl. Hermione's mind, honed by battles with trolls and dark lords, registered the threat not as a thought, but as a pure, primal scream of instinct. Before the needle could even break her skin, she acted.
There was no incantation, no wave of a wand. There was only a violent, wrenching twist of reality and a deafening CRACK that...

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Chapter 53: A Declaration of War

Hermione looked at him, her face a mask of patronizing pity. "Director," she said, her voice dripping with condescension, "the fact that your people needed a spaceship to learn about the Kree is, frankly, adorable. Some of us consider it basic galactic common knowledge."
Fury's jaw tightened, but he remained silent. He had learned, through a series of deeply humbling encounters, that engagin...

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Chapter 52: Of Cats and Curiosities

Fury was helpless. For years, Goose had been his secret weapon, a purring, unassuming alien of incomprehensible power, masquerading as a simple office cat. It was a perfect disguise. Now, this twelve-year-old girl had taken one look at it and blown its cover completely, summoning a cage of hellfire in the middle of his training room. The cat, as they say, was out of the bag.
"The Flerken," H...

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Chapter 51: A Lecture on the Nature of Reality

Seeing the dust-covered but triumphant smile on Hermione's face, the room full of elite secret agents was rendered completely and utterly speechless. This girl… this consultant… was a walking paradox of terrifying power and baffling, childish chaos.
"It's a simple space-expansion charm," Hermione said, dusting off her robes with a dismissive wave of her hand. "Standard stuff. Don't make ...

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Chapter 50: An Introduction to Magic

Hermione bit back a sigh. Fine. Whatever. It wasn't her spy agency, and it wasn't her funeral when HYDRA eventually blew it up from the inside.

Fury, of course, had his reasons. Natasha and Coulson were her established handlers; their relationship was already forming. Using them for this initial, introductory phase would be a waste of their specialized skills. More importantly, t...

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Chapter 49: Orientation Day

The Great Hall was a sea of green and silver. Slytherin banners hung from the enchanted ceiling, their serpentine crests seeming to sneer down at the other houses. The mood at the Gryffindor table was funereal. They were in last place, a fact the Slytherins were thoroughly enjoying.
Then, Dumbledore stood up.
A hush fell over the hall. The Headmaster, his eyes twinkling with a light that ...

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Chapter 48: An Unexpected Inheritancehapter

Wait. What?

Hermione's mind, which had been running through a dozen different conversational gambits and prepared excuses, came to a screeching, definitive halt. Nicolas Flamel knows about me? He's not just a historical footnote; he's an active player in this?

The revelation was so stunning, so completely outside the bounds of her carefully constructed predictions,...

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Chapter 47: The Grandmaster’s Gambit

The grimoire in her mind buzzed, a new line of text burning itself into her consciousness. It wasn't a spell from a book, or a trinket she had collected. This was something else. Something ancient.

[Ancient Magic: Sacrificial Protection]

Gold mine, she thought, a thrill shooting through her. After months of searching, she had finally found it.

She ana...

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Chapter 50: The Glass Candle

Daenerys did not immediately agree to Xaro's proposition. That night, she asked Jorah for his counsel, and the knight, as expected, advised her to have nothing to do with such mysterious and dangerous men.

"Ser, this is not Westeros, a land where magic is a half-forgotten children's story," she sighed, a deep weariness in her voice. "I wish I could keep the warlocks at arm's length, but y...

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Chapter 49: Erathon the Night-Waker

"As for Westeros," Jorah said, his expression gloomy, "I do not know if you should give up on that dangerous iron chair. But I know this: the longer you stay in one place, the easier it is for your enemies to find you. Targaryen is a name that terrifies men, especially now that they know you have dragons."

"I thank you for your counsel, Ser," Daenerys said, her voice sincere. She looked h...

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Chapter 48: The Rising Tide

"Khaleesi," Aggo shouted, his head poked through the carriage window, "there is a fire mage ahead! The street is blocked!"

The noise from outside was a deafening roar, a human sea more crowded and chaotic than any market she had ever seen.

"A fire mage," Xaro said with a bored sigh. "You can see their sort in any dockside tavern. It is nothing." He took a bottle of wine from a small...

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Chapter 47: I Am So Sorry

In the days that followed, Daenerys lost herself in the cool, silent halls of the Temple of Memory. The thick, sheepskin-bound books told a story of the world grander than any she had ever imagined. She found a map, centered on Qarth, that laid out the entire known world. She found confirmation of her theories about the white cities, and a truth far more astonishing than she had guessed.

...

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Chapter 46: The Hall of a Thousand Thrones

The Pureborn of Qarth were not a single king and queen, but a collective of the direct descendants of the city's ancient monarchs. To be granted an audience was the highest of honors, and according to Xaro, it came with a strict dress code.

"You must wear the traditional gown of a Qartheen lady," he insisted, his eyes flicking over her Dothraki leathers with ill-concealed disgust. That me...

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Chapter 45: The Price of an Audience

The old Jogos Nhai, emboldened by the wine and his captivated audience, launched into another tale of his ancestors, this one about the destruction of a kingdom of giants.

"Giants?" Jorah interjected, not bothering to hide his skepticism. "There are giants beyond the Wall, but they stand no more than four meters tall."

"Those are snow giants," the old man said with a dismissive wave...

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Chapter 44: A Conqueror's Example

"Emperor Lo Bu assembled an army of three hundred thousand men," the old Jogos Nhai said, his voice dropping low, "and he marched them onto our plains in thirteen great columns. Their orders were simple: genocide. They killed everything they saw. Man, woman, child, even the slaves of our slaves. The tribes they met were harvested like wheat beneath a scythe. Our people were slaughtered, our zor...

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Chapter 43: Histories of the East

The Jogos Nhai were, in many ways, a distorted reflection of the Dothraki. They were a savage, nomadic people who plundered the city-states that bordered their lands. They were led by chieftains they called jhats, lived in yurt-like tents, and had a sallow, yellowish cast to their skin. But where the Dothraki were tall and graceful, the Jogos Nhai were short and stout. And where the Do...

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