The other end of the earpiece fell silent for several seconds before the voice said, "Agent Romanoff, you're on the scene, so your judgment is more accurate than mine. How do you think we should approach her? Does she pose a threat that warrants forcible detention?"
Natasha answered immediately, without much thought. "Absolutely not. We need to maintain a good relationship with her and gradually win her over."
The voice sounded unsurprised. "Your reasons?"
"First, she's the only wizard we currently have access to, and our only way of learning about the mysterious wizarding world."
"Second, her mysterious magical abilities are worth studying. We might be able to combine them with our technology and achieve unexpected results."
"Third, although her personality is a little unusual and she doesn't act like an ordinary child, her overall behavior still leans toward doing the right thing. There's absolutely no need to turn her into an enemy. Besides, she probably has considerable backing. We'd lose more than we'd gain."
"And..." Natasha hesitated. "She's still just a child."
"It seems you have a good impression of her."
Natasha nodded, making no attempt to hide it. "That's right."
Although spending time with Hermione was a little exhausting, she was genuinely fond of the little girl and didn't want to do anything excessive to her.
The voice spoke again, this time with a note of approval. "Then we'll do it your way. Maintain a good relationship, but take advantage of the fact that she's a child to subtly influence her and win her over. Guide her views in the direction we want."
"Invite her to headquarters in a little while. I'd like to meet her personally and ask about the wizarding world while we're at it."
"Yes, sir."
Natasha was about to turn around when she suddenly remembered something.
"Oh, Nick, one more thing." She paused. "'Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division' is really too much of a mouthful. I think the 'S.H.I.E.L.D.' Hermione mentioned earlier sounds pretty good. Why don't you consider it?"
This time, the other end remained silent for a long while before answering, "All right. Let's go with that."
A faint smile curled at the corner of Natasha's mouth.
She hadn't expected Hermione's first favor to them to be coming up with such a fitting name.
Natasha stepped back into the café and stopped short.
Where was Hermione?
She hastily looked around, only to discover that the entire room was empty.
Hurrying to the table, she saw the sheet of white paper lying quietly where it had been, except there was now some writing on it.
[Natasha, I have classes tomorrow morning, so I'm heading back to get some rest.]
[Don't forget the rewards you promised: an identity I can use here, and a little money I can spend here.]
[See you another day~]
Clutching the note, Natasha quickly pressed the button on her earpiece.
"Hermione just left. Why didn't any of you report it?"
Several voices soon came through the earpiece. Their answers all amounted to the same thing: they hadn't seen her.
"Pull up the surrounding surveillance footage immediately!"
At Natasha's command, a man in a black suit and sunglasses soon brought her a tablet.
The screen showed footage from inside and outside the café moments earlier.
In the footage, while Natasha was outside talking, Hermione rose from the table, pushed open the door, and simply strolled away in plain sight.
Inside the ice cream truck, two agents poked their heads out and waved at Hermione with smiles.
The sniper on the rooftop lifted his face from his scope and gestured goodbye.
Not one of the twelve field agents pressed their comm button.
More unnerving still, before leaving, she had said goodbye to Natasha, who had even waved and watched her go.
Natasha stared at the version of herself waving on the screen, her face slowly draining of color.
She didn't remember.
She had absolutely no memory of seeing Hermione leave, much less waving to her.
Suddenly, she understood.
Erasing memories really hadn't been a joke.
Whatever that little girl wanted her to forget, she would forget.
In his office, Nick Fury watched the bizarre scene and felt a chill run down his back.
In a dark alley, Hermione leaned against a wall and watched the television in the window of the electronics store opposite.
A news report scrolled across the screen: Stark Industries CEO Tony Stark had been attacked in Afghanistan. His whereabouts remained unknown, and he had now been missing for eleven days.
At the same time, an account with a fairly high clearance level accessed a file titled "Wizards" on S.H.I.E.L.D.'s internal network.
Time spent viewing it: forty-seven minutes.
Back in her dormitory, Hermione lay on her bed.
I didn't expect S.H.I.E.L.D. to discover me so soon.
She had been prepared for it, but this was still a little too fast.
She had underestimated these people. An organization that could stand as humanity's foremost intelligence agency in the monster-infested Marvel Universe had to have something going for it.
Still, she had come out one step ahead.
The bait had been cast. Now she just had to wait for the big fish to bite.
She could guarantee that the scheming old bastard Nick Fury had been listening in while she talked to Natasha.
The information revealed in those few scattered remarks was more than enough to set their imaginations running wild. The door to a mysterious magical world was slowly opening before them.
Power like that was enough to send people flocking to it.
Especially when the key to that door remained in her hands. As the only wizard they could contact-and indeed the only wizard in that world-her value had increased immeasurably.
Not to mention the persona Hermione had constructed for herself: a child with powerful backing, little guile, and a modest sense of justice. She wouldn't make them feel threatened, making her the perfect person to cooperate with... or exploit.
As luck would have it, Hermione felt exactly the same way.
Who would be exploiting whom, however, remained to be seen.
Fortunately, her magic had successfully advanced to the Second Tier. Her raw power might not match beings like Hulk, but she had a wide variety of methods at her disposal. At this early stage of the Marvel world, as long as she didn't go courting death by drawing out any hidden old monsters, a little caution would be enough to handle the current situation.
Hermione opened the Spellbook and stared at the despair-inducing experience bar.
[Magic Level: lv2 (13/10000)]
Three hours in Hell's Kitchen and twenty lives had netted her barely twenty points, all told.
At that rate, she would have to cut down half the criminals in New York.
But there was one theory she had yet to test: what if souls differed in quality too?
Would the soul of a street thug be worth the same as that of a powerful wizard or an ancient magical creature?
Hermione's gaze passed through the ceiling and settled in a certain direction within the castle.
As it happened, Hogwarts housed the soul of the highest "quality" in this world.
The face on the back of Quirrell's head.
There was also the Philosopher's Stone, which could grant immortality. The Spellbook's [Curiosities] section was still empty.
But there was no rush.
In the original story, a fake letter would lure Dumbledore away from the castle one evening, and Quirrell would make his way through the obstacles alone.
That would be the time to haul in the net.
Over the following days, Hermione focused on practicing spells at Hogwarts and grinding her proficiency. She also practiced Quidditch with Wood and the others every day, and her riding skills steadily improved.
Two weeks passed in the blink of an eye.
During those two weeks, she also figured out another rule of the Spellbook.
[Magical Creatures] couldn't be registered just by looking at them. She had to collect samples.
A blood sample from the corresponding fantastic beast was required to activate an entry.
Once registered, it unlocked an entry in the bestiary. She could even use the blood sample to modify similar creatures.
Unfortunately, aside from certain creatures in the Forbidden Forest, the only magical creatures a first-year could encounter were illustrations in textbooks.
Before returning from Marvel, Hermione had picked up a box of disposable syringes at a pharmacy, making the clerk frown repeatedly.
Now they sat in her bag, waiting for an opportunity.
In the Great Hall, the young wizards were eating lunch at the long tables.
"Rabbit eyes, softly shine, whispering harp, turn this water into wine!"
Beside Hermione, a student dressed in Gryffindor robes held up his wand, waving it back and forth at the cup in front of him as he recited the incantation.
It looked less like spellcasting and more like hammering, as though that would somehow boost his magic.
Seriously, dude, what are you doing?
Hermione furrowed her delicate brows and shifted a little farther away, afraid he might jab her in the eye with his wand.
Just then, Neville stood up nearby and walked over to Hermione. After hesitating for a while, he finally worked up the courage to speak.
"Um... Hermione, thanks for what you did last time. If you hadn't cast that Slowing Charm when it mattered, I'd definitely still be lying in the hospital wing."
Hermione looked up at him, gave a detached "Mm," and went back to eating.
Neville didn't mind. By now, everyone knew that this was simply Hermione's personality. She was usually rather aloof and didn't like talking, and she was only somewhat closer to Harry and Ron.
Coupled with her obvious dislike of being disturbed, that aura made any boys who wanted to approach her back down, even though she was very pretty.
This time, after thanking Harry for standing up for him against Malfoy, Neville had come to thank her in person at Harry's encouragement.
"I'll head back, then. Hermione, if you ever need anything, just tell me. I'll make sure I do it!" Neville said firmly.
Just as he turned to leave, Hermione suddenly called him back. "Wait!"
Neville stopped.
"I just remembered. There really is something I need your help with."
"What?"
Glancing at Seamus Finnigan beside her, Hermione said slowly, "If you don't mind, could you swap seats with me?"
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