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Hermione turned another page, ignoring the summer breeze trying to swipe it back. She paused to push her curls back behind her ears and enjoy a warm ray of sunshine piercing through the leaves above. In the height of summer, most Parisian migrated to the countryside and beaches of France, leaving the capital to the boards of tourists. Even here in a popular alley of the jardins du Luxembourg, only a few people sat in the benches, but she guessed most everyone was cooling off around the fountains.
The man sitting in front of her caught her attention. At first, she thought he was looking at her and she was ready to run off in case one of her many enemies had found her while she was alone and relaxing on her holidays, but it was soon obvious he was drawing the statue of the Mask Seller in the alley between them.
Hermione shook her head at her paranoia. It had been a year since the last incident with a Death-Eater sympathiser. Surely she was safe now in the peaceful French gardens. She took up her reading, but was soon interrupted when the sound of galloping hooves came her way.
She looked up to her right, her jaw dropping when a green tinted stag followed by a doe and fawn ran down the alley, and she knew they weren't live ones but the statue she had been admiring earlier on her way to her favourite bench. Suddenly, the stag lowered its head and swerved towards a passerby, sending him flying over its head before running right passed her bench.
Hermione shook off her surprise and ran towards the poor man, but the artist she had noticed earlier tackled her to the ground. The swoosh of air right above their heads made her realize she had a very near miss with death. But it wasn't over, a bronze arm holding the mask of Victor Hugo's face tried to smash it onto hers. Hermione rolled out of the way, while the man who had saved her before kicked the bronze statue away. Hermione knew it had to be heavy, literally weigh a ton, but the statue stumbled back anyway.
Hermione drew her wand. It was a question of life or death at this point.
"Stupefy!"
The red spell hit the bronze statue right in the chest and it stuttered to a stop, so to hell with the Statute of Secrecy.
"Back up!" she ordered the artist, unsure what language he spoke, but most tourists knew a little English, at the very least.
Hermione didn't trust the spell to hold on an inanimate object, and she had been right too, because the bronze suddenly lashed out again, thrusting the mask forward. Thankfully, the artist had listened to her and backed up several steps. Thinking quickly, Hermione charmed the branches above them to wind around the statue to hold him prisoner, stuck in the middle of a strange wooden spider web.
"Impressive," the man commented right next to her.
Hermione looked up at him, startled he had gotten so close without her notice, especially for such a big guy. Seriously, the sculpture of Hercules had nothing on him, despite the unflattering old-fashioned beige slacks and checkered shirt he was wearing. He also seemed totally nonplussed by her use of magic, but then again, they had just been attacked by bronze statues.
"Thank you, for earlier," Hermione said, before remembering she had been running to help the man run over by the stag. He was gone now, a small trail of blood informing them he had been injured, but well enough to walk off on his own.
Screams grew louder all around them, and a few people ran passed them towards the side exit out of the gardens.
"What the hell is going on?" Hermione muttered to herself, not really expecting an answer.
"That's what I'd like to know," the man replied. "Any idea?"
It was magical in nature. What else could animate inanimate objects? If it was a charm, the caster had to be very powerful to affect the whole park. If it was a magical artefact, it had to be contained. Either way, she needed to find a strong magical source, something her wand could easily take care of.
Setting her wand flat on the palm of her hand, Hermione whispered a specific point me spell and the wand twirled twice before pointing to the end of the alley and center of the gardens.
"The fountains," Hermione said with certainty.
"Let's go," he said with a decisive nod of his head. He had to be military or something similar. "Name's Steve, by the way. I'd say it's a pleasure to meet you, but..."
Another piercing scream cut him off.
"Hermione," she answered when the scream was cut off. They cautiously walked down the alley. Thankfully, there weren't many statues in the side alleys, but they stopped in the shadows of the trees as they took in the pandemonium reigning in the vast open space in front of them. It wasn't just the bronze statues acting up, but the stone and marble ones as well.
"This is gonna be harder than I thought," Steve whispered next to her.
"There are 106 statues in these gardens alone. I hope it hasn't spread to the rest of Paris…" Hermione trailed off as she imagined the bloodbath.
Instead, she checked the location of the source of power once more, not surprised to find it pointed to the vast basin where the most belligerent statues could be found: the gladiator, the huntress, Vulcan and other assorted muscled Greek statues. Although, they would have to make it pass the twenty queens first, and the ladies seemed to be in a foul mood.
"I have an invisibility spell," Hermione whispered. "But I'm not sure it'll work on statues."
"It's a better idea than mine," Steve admitted and she raised a questioning eyebrow. "Run and duck."
Hermione snorted.
"It might work for you, but I'm not much of an athlete. Okay, don't move, it's going to feel a bit weird, like I'm cracking an egg on the top of your head."
Steve nodded and she rapped the tip of her wand on his pretty blond hair, then hers, watching as he slowly faded out of view.
"Hermione?" he called. "This might be a silly question, but how are we going to know where the other is?"
"Here, hold my hand," she said, blindly reaching out towards him until she brushed against his, before she grabbed it firmly. "Follow my lead."
They walked slowly out from under the relative safety of the trees and to the nearest stairway leading down to the basin. A small cherub that had been flying around the flowerpot at the head of the stairwell bumped into her and crashed on the ground, too heavy for its stunted wings to take off once more. Hermione froze, wondering if it would give them away or sound the alarm, but it merely crawled back up the stone pillar like a creepy baby out of a horror film. Hermione squeezed Steve's hand, signalling him to follow and they walked down the stairs, then weaved their way between the queens patrolling the area. As Hermione feared, the main basin had been hit hard and fast with the abundance of statues surrounding the area. Several dozens of corpses lay around, bodies twisted, bones broken, blood spilling on the gravel and in the water. Hermione grimaced as she slowly stepped in the water, her summer dress sticking to her skin uncomfortably as it soaked in the reddish water. She was glad for her invisibility so she didn't have to witness her transformation into Carrie. Steve joined her next, and they trudged to the center of the basin, but the tiny waves their movements created undulated outwards in ever growing rings to crash against the fountain's walls. A few queens took notice. Anne, Marguerite and Louise approached the basin, but their cumbersome stone dresses kept them from climbing over the small ledge.
"That's a relief," Hermione whispered. "We're almost there."
Hermione could feel the artefact nearby. Its power radiated, crashing against her magic in waves. The more she approached, the dizzier she became, until she lost her footing on the slime covering the fountains floor and was unable to keep her balance like she had before. Steve felt her slip and rushed forward, catching her just in time.
"Are you alright?" he whispered in her ear.
"Yes," Hermione replied, catching her breath when she noticed a faint shimmer in the water. "To our right. Do you see it?" she asked.
Steve was still for a few seconds, then he suddenly picked her up in his arms and it was all Hermione could do to bite back a squeal of surprise.
"A little warning next time," she hissed, clinging to his shoulder.
"Sorry."
He didn't sound sorry at all , but in no time they were standing over the dim light. It looked red from above water, but whether it truly was, or if it was tainted by the blood, she couldn't say. The power it exuded was impressive however, stronger than her, and before she knew it, her disillusionment charm failed. Steve blinked in surprise at seeing her cradled in his arms while she couldn't help but stare at how handsome he looked, so much so, she wanted to pinch him to make sure he was real and not a statue himself. The spell broke when an arrow nicked Hermione's thigh to plant itself in Steve's chest.
"No!" she gasped.
Steve had not even dropped her, carefully letting her down on her own two feet instead, although she then wobbled and fell on all fours in the red water. She thought she was going to be sick when it splashed across her face, but she forced herself to focus.
Steve was avoiding arrows somehow, despite his injury and the speed at which they flew by. The least Hermione could do was stop the statues before Steve got himself worse off.
Not trusting the artefact to touch her bare hands, Hermione levitated it out of the water. It was… beautiful. A deep crystal red, like a giant ruby with darker tendril running through it. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the statue of Vulcan splashing his way towards her, hammer raised. Quickly, Hermione spun a web of spells around the stone to cut off its influence over the statues. She added spell after spell, but nothing seemed to work, the Roman God kept advancing. Steve ran passed her to head it off when it suddenly toppled forward. Hermione glanced around and Diane the huntress was frozen mid-run after Steve. The queens at the basin's edge were still as well.
"You did it!" Steve whooped, running back towards her. "Is that…" he froze, face pale. "It looks like the Reality Stone."
Hermione had never heard of such a thing and was surprised a Muggle would know anything about a magical artefact.
"Really? It kind of looks like the Philosopher's Stone to me."
"Are those the same?" Steve asked.
"I'm not sure. I think we need to exchange intel, you and I."
"Maybe after a change of clothes," Steve suggested.
Hermione took in his slacks, no longer pressed to perfection, or even beige. Then she looked down at her white summer dress splattered with red from top to bottom. Sirens began wailing around them, loud voices signalling each other as they progressed through the gardens. Steve rolled his eyes, and Hermione had a feeling he did not much care dealing with the local authorities. Hermione didn't either, for that matter. If she could keep her breach of the Statute of Secrecy to the minimum, all the better.
"Want to skedaddle out of here?" she asked, offering him her free hand.
Steve nodded and held onto hers. Hermione disapparated them both to her hotel room, where they both fell onto the carpet. Her, out of sheer exhaustion, but Steve…
"The arrow," she scolded herself before pulling Steve's shirt open.
"It's fine," Steve said.
"Fine," she scoffed. Steve was as bad as Harry. "Because people run around with arrows in their guts like it's no big deal all the time."
She made quick work of vanishing the arrow, cleaning the wound, then healing it. A few minutes later, Steve sat up, touching the now nonexistent wound.
"I'll say it again: impressive. How? What are you exactly?"
"Can't tell you, but you're free to take an educated guess. You've certainly seen enough."
"You're a bit like Wanda," Steve said,taking in her blank expression. "The Scarlet Witch?"
"You already know a witch?" Hermione asked, pleasantly surprised. "Oh well, that's fine, then."
When Steve told her about him and the Avengers, Hermione realised this Wanda was not an actual witch. Steve thought she was just another gifted person, 'enhanced', not one of many living in a society hidden from muggles, so, despite feeling guilty for the one-sided misunderstanding, Hermione let it go for now because she didn't want to obliviate him. Then they exchanged information on their respective stones and agreed it might be something else entirely. Both Steve and Hermione were loath to entrust such a powerful artefact to their respective authorities, not trusting they would not use it for their own gain.
They took a much needed break, taking turns to shower. Hermione was able to magically clean their clothes to their former state, although the phone Steve had in his pocket was probably dead now. His small sketchbook was soaked as well, soy
she decided to dry it page by page while trying not to think of Steve naked in her shower. It was a good distraction. The sketches were beautiful despite being a little smudged by the water. Steve had gone all over Paris to draw the famous spots: the Eiffel Tower, the Louvre, the Pantheon and Notre-Dame. Even the catacombs which she had always found too creepy to visit herself. Hermione flipped to the end of the sketchbook, before the statues had begun to animate, but instead of finding the Seller of Masks that had attacked her, she found her own likeness, sitting on the bench, reading in her white summer dress with her curls flying about in the breeze.
Cheeks red, Hermione closed the sketchbook and set it aside next to the damaged phone, guilt gnawing at her. It was like she had peaked into his diary and read something she should not have.
"Are you not feeling well?" Steve asked as he walked in the room with a towel around his waist. "Oh, good. You got my clothes clean, thanks!"
He grabbed his pile of clothes before disappearing back in the bathroom, Hermione's cheeks twice as red as before.
"I wanted to pinch you because I thought you might be a statue!" she blurted out when he returned, fully clothed this time.
"What?" Steve asked, lips quirked up in amusement.
"I looked at your sketchbook. I saw...me," she clarified with a wave at the water damaged drawing pad. "Since I know something I shouldn't, you deserve as much."
"And why did you think I was a statue?" Steve asked with a grin.
He knew. He was teasing her, the berk. Thankfully, her embarrassment was cut short when his phone rang.
"How is that still working?" she asked in bewilderment.
She didn't know much about Muggle technology, but she did know cell phones shouldn't survive a bath.
"Stark phone," Steve replied as if that explained anything before taking the call. "Yes, I'm fine. Of course I'm watching the news," Steve said glancing at the television.
Hermione turned it on and sure enough, a helicopter view of the gardens of Luxembourg greeted them, the red spot where the basin stood a sad reminder of all those they had not been able to help. The stone's influence had spread to the neighbouring streets where only a couple more statues had been animated. Steve was still talking on the phone while Hermione switched channels to make sure no one had seen either of them, but so far, the people investigating the scene were stumped.
"How do you feel about leaving in an hour?" Steve asked, sitting next to her on the bed.
"America?" she asked, wondering if they were going to see his Avengers friends, but Steve shook his head.
"Wakanda. My friends agree the stone would be safest there for now, while we figure out what it is."
"Hopping on a plane with a near stranger to a strange place? What could go wrong?" Hermione asked with a laugh.
"Can't be worse than 106 murderous statues," Steve ventured.
"You know how to sweet talk a lady," Hermione replied, but she was already packing her bag with a swish of her wand. She had a feeling she would follow Steve anywhere.