A young couple chatted happily, their laughter occasionally ringing out.
A distinct air of romance filled the air.
Hermione rolled her eyes, downed the rest of her coffee, and walked over to them.
"Make some room for me," she said, nudging the young man aside. In the couple's confused gaze, Hermione took the man's seat.
She looked at the woman in front of her.
The woman was about twenty, with an alluring figure, a shapely silhouette, and a beautiful face. Her fitted clothes accentuated her curves.
Her slightly curled burgundy hair added to her enchanting presence.
But Hermione, a little beauty with no romantic inclinations, was unfazed.
"Little girl, what are you..." The red-haired woman began, eyes filled with curiosity.
Before she could finish, Hermione interrupted.
"Stop pretending. What do you want from me?"
Before the redhead could respond, the young man frowned and said, "What do you want? Why'd you take my seat? I don't have any change for you."
He implied Hermione was there to beg.
Hermione wasn't bothered, merely glanced at them and mused aloud, "Did they come from the Ministry of Magic? But there's no magical aura about them. Why would the Ministry send two Muggles? I don't get it..."
Her voice was full of confusion.
She'd already crafted her persona for the Marvel world.
A smart, cunning little wizard with a mysterious background and a hint of justice.
Now, she just needed to act the part and bluff her way through.
"You!" The young man grew angrier as Hermione ignored him, muttering what sounded nonsensical.
"Quiet," Hermione said, tapping his head with her wand. She looked at the red-haired woman, "If you have something to say, say it. Otherwise, I'll leave."
Who am I, where am I, what's happening?
The young man couldn't believe it. An adult, professionally trained, was being tapped on the head with a small wooden stick by a girl who couldn't be more than middle school age?
"You..." The young man began again, but the redhead raised a hand to stop him.
"Agent Jensen, leave this to me."
His expression shifted from anger to resignation. It seemed his earlier emotions were mere acting. Jensen rose and left the café.
As he exited, he muttered, "How did she see through us?"
Once he was gone, the redhead spoke:
"Miss Granger... May I call you that?"
Hermione was unsurprised and replied with a smile, "Just call me Hermione."
No matter what, a beautiful woman always brightened her day, even if she had no chance of romance.
Seeing this, a hint of joy flashed in the redhead's eyes.
It seemed the girl was more approachable than expected.
"Alright, little sister Hermione," the redhead contemplated for two seconds before asking the question that concerned her most, "How did you see through us?"
In truth, she shared the same curiosity as her departed male colleague.
As a top agent, she had immense confidence in her disguise, believing she couldn't be exposed. Her confusion was genuine, prompting her to prioritize this question over the mission.
For a moment, she wondered if this little girl had been trained as a spy by a secret organization.
"Huh?" Hermione feigned puzzlement. "Didn't you know wizards are sensitive to being watched?"
"From the moment you entered till now, you glanced at me six times, and your friend peeked eleven times. Is that how you woo each other?"
"Even couples at Hogwarts on the verge of breaking up show more interest in each other than you two!"
The redhead was stunned.
Were kids today so perceptive they could sense being watched?
Hermione chuckled inwardly.
The talk of being watched was nonsense. She recognized her because she knew her.
She'd seen her too often on screen in her previous life.
Natasha Romanoff!
Top S.H.I.E.L.D. agent, codenamed Black Widow!
Widowmaker!
Natasha pondered Hermione's words, her body tensing as she grasped the key term.
What did she just say?
Wizard?!
In her words, this child was claiming to be a wizard!
Simultaneously, in a spacious office atop a tall building, a one-eyed man was stunned by the revelation, glancing at the girl's file.
Several photos lay on the table, including Hermione working outside a barbecue restaurant, the bodies of robbers, and the deaths of several criminals in Hell's Kitchen.
Natasha smiled.
"Sister Hermione, lying isn't a good habit for children."
Before coming, she'd reviewed the target's file, noting the young girl had some special abilities. Though the claim of being a wizard surprised her, she dismissed it as a child's fantasy after gaining powers.
She simply didn't believe in wizards, magic, or anything of that sort.
However, Hermione's next response caught Natasha off guard.
She expected anger at being called out, or a childish tantrum. Instead, Hermione frowned, her smile giving way to confusion.
"Hey... Don't you know? Wasn't the Ministry of Magic monitoring me?"
Hermione's expression turned serious, and she scratched her head in frustration.
"Oops, now I'm in trouble. I told two Muggles about wizardry. Dumbledore will lecture me for sure."
Natasha watched Hermione intently, her expression stiff.
She sought signs of deceit in Hermione's reaction but found none.
Either the girl was deeply engrossed in her fantasy, unable to distinguish it from reality, or... she was telling the truth.
"Ugh, it's so annoying."
Hermione pouted, laid her head on the table, and fiddled with her wand, an idea sparking.
"Before the Ministry finds out, I'll erase your memories so no one knows I spilled the beans to Muggles."
Suddenly energized, Hermione clapped her hands.
"Yes, that's perfect! Haha, I'm such a genius!"
What?
Erase memories?
Hearing Hermione's words, Natasha felt a chill down her spine.
The little stick in Hermione's hand pointed at her, the tip slowly beginning to glow. Instantly, Natasha felt a profound sense of danger unlike anything she'd felt before.
An intuition born of a top agent's instincts.
"Wait, wait!" Remembering her mission, Natasha suppressed her urge to draw her gun and shouted, "Don't you want to know who we are?"
The question seemed to pique Hermione's interest. She slowly lowered her wand and asked, "Pretty sister, if you're not from the Ministry, who are you? What do you want with me?"
The sense of danger faded, and Natasha exhaled deeply, noticing her back was drenched.