NIGHTSHADE | marvel x hp

047

Word spread like wildfire.

By the next morning, the entire castle was buzzing— whispers slithering through corridors like snakes. No one could stop talking about how the Albus Dumbledore had been humiliated in front of everyone, the press included, by a Muggle billionaire.

The scene had already made headlines in both the wizarding and muggle worlds—

"IRON MAN PUNCHES HEADMASTER OF FAMED WIZARDING SCHOOL"— and though most articles were scrambled with speculation, one thing was certain: Tony Stark had said out loud what too many parents were too afraid to.

He'd questioned how the school could justify a "child-death tournament" and called out the Ministry for letting it happen under their watch.

Even the reporters from The Daily Prophet couldn't twist it— parents were already gathering outside the school gates, waving signs, and demanding the permanent discontinuation of the tournament once this year's one ends.

In the aftermath, Dumbledore had asked Severus to prepare private quarters for the Avengers — far from the rest of the students. Snape had done it with his usual scowl, but nobody dared protest, especially after Wanda casually flicked her hand earlier and disarmed half the Ministry with one gesture.

One thing that Aria thought was pretty cool, was the fact that those quarters were discreetly connected to the floo network of the manor the Avengers had rented nearby, ensuring they could move between the wizarding and muggle worlds as they pleased.

That same evening, everybody was gathered in the room.

Heavy curtains blocked out the view of the castle grounds, save for one gap where Steve stood, gazing out at the towers through the drizzle.

Tony sat on the edge of the bed nearest to the fireplace— the one where Aria was sleeping.

Looking at her now, Aria looked like any other sleeping teenager; save for the heavy white bandage on her right wrist. But a couple hours ago, before that nurse lady had tended to her... Finding his teenage daughter covered in soot and bruises was something straight out of Tony's nightmares.

He brushed a strand off her forehead, pressed a kiss there before standing up and joining the others.

Natasha was leaning against the far wall, arms crossed, while Clint was sprawled in an armchair that had probably been older than his entire family line, one leg over the armrest, picking at his nails.

The rest of the team was dispersed across the pair of long sofas.

Well, save for Sirius, who'd passed out on a long chair thirty minutes ago.

No one spoke for a while. The rain drummed softly on the windows. Aria's steady breathing was the only reminder of calm in the room.

Then Steve turned around.

"We can't just wait for the next task to hit her," he said quietly. "We need to figure out what's coming."

"Apparently it has something to do with that egg." Peter nodded toward the golden egg that Aria had set on one of the desks.

Bucky walked over to grab it.

"I wouldn't do that if I were you— Um, Aria tried earlier and let's just say your ears won't appreciate it." The teen pressed his lips in a thin line when he remembered how Draco pressured Aria into opening the egg and the sound that came out of it almost gave them ear cancer.

Tony exhaled. "Right now I'm more interested in who thought it was funny to throw her name in that fire."

Clint leaned forward. "You think it's that old guy with the beard?"