The Avengers: The Marvelous Masquerade

Managing Mischief

A cool, crisp breeze was whistling through the clear air as Natasha strolled through Hogsmeade. Crimson leaves crunched underneath her boots, and her scarlet hair swayed back and forth across her shoulders. She shoved her shivering fingers into the pockets of her leather jacket, ducking her head to avoid the gazes of the passerby.

Students wandered all about, yet it took little effort to stay clear of them. Natasha kept to the shadows, her narrowed eyes darting to and fro. She ducked her head as a group of girls strode by, several of them from Natasha's year in Slytherin. Not a single one even bade her a greeting. Natasha was, of course, quite used to this. She hadn't expected anything different. Still, there was an inescapable sinking sensation inside of her stomach as she scurried off the street, and walked swiftly through the swinging doors of the Three Broomsticks.

The atmosphere inside of the pub was lively, as always. Adults and students alike mingled throughout the spacious dining area. The delicious aromas wafting through the air tickled Natasha's senses, and she headed for the crowded bar.

Just as she had anticipated, she spotted a familiar, black-haired figure hunched over a notebook and a foaming mug. With a resigned sigh, Natasha slid onto the stool next to the boy. She glanced down at the parchment, filled with all kinds of scribbles and notes.

"Stark," she said, nudging the boy. Tony flinched, clearly oblivious to her presence.

"Romanoff," he responded in a clipped tone, closing his notebook.

"Any particular reason you didn't show up for patrol duty last night?" Natasha queried, although she wagered it had something to do with the bags nestled underneath Tony's bloodshot eyes, and the unmistakable stench of firewhiskey that tainted his breath.

"Oh, was that last night?" Tony replied, sipping his mug with a nonchalant smirk.

"Yes," Natasha answered, resting her forearms on the counter. "I'll let it slide this time, Stark, but you're lucky the Head Boy and Girl didn't find out." Tony's expression darkened.

"I'm sorry," he grumbled. "I must have missed the part where you turned into the model student." Natasha rolled her eyes.

"You're pathetic," she muttered, then eyed his closed notebook. "And for Merlin's sake, what madness are you concocting now?"

"Something that'll be remembered until the end of time," Tony said, the triumph returning to his tone. "Don't suppose you want to volunteer as a test subject, do you?"

"Not particularly," said Natasha. She grimaced, hopping off the stool. "But good luck with your recruiting." Before Tony could spout off a snarky retort, she waltzed away, then bounded back onto the main street.

The afternoon was quickly starting to fade into dusk. Natasha felt a pinch of sadness at the thought of returning to the confines of Hogwarts, as well as the inevitable stack of homework that awaited her. A lofty sigh escaped from her lips as she slowly made her way towards the end of the street, where a quiet, reserved meadow lay. She checked her watch, and nodded to herself.

The meadow seemed empty at first, save for a large boulder in the far left corner. Then, there was a rustle amongst the tall, yellowing grass, and a tall, four-legged creature emerged from behind the rock; a thestral.

Natasha smiled, and reached into her pocket for the apple she always brought to Hogsmeade. She approached the creature quietly, waiting for it to notice her. Its magnificent head suddenly arched upward, and it pawed the ground. Natasha paused, then held out the apple in the palm of her hand. The thestral's nostrils flared as it sniffed the air and delicately stepped forward.

The creature's beak-like muzzle nudged the apple as fangs slid out from its mouth. It snatched the apple, chomping down on the fruit with a snap. Natasha reached out, and patted the creature. The thestral snorted, rubbing its head against her shoulder.