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The air in the Defense Against the Dark Arts classroom still crackled with residual ozone and fear. Lupin stared, his mouth slightly open, as the real Hermione Granger stood over the smoking remnants of the Boggart that had taken her image.
She had just cast the Avada Kedavra curse. And she had cast it, not on a monster, but on a terrifyingly accurate manifestation of her own deepest vulnerability.
Lupin looked from the dissipating black smoke to Hermione's face, which was slowly losing its terrifying HULK GREEN hue. "Granger," he stammered, his mind racing. "You… you just used an Unforgivable Curse. On a Boggart."
She shrugged, putting away her wand. "It's the most convenient way to neutralize a dark creature, Professor. Why waste time with petty jinxes? The Killing Curse is, by far, the most efficient spell in existence."
Lupin felt a cold knot tighten in his stomach. He didn't doubt her ruthlessness. He only wondered at the profound, terrifying power she had just unleashed, not against the Boggart's form, but against her own perceived weakness.
"But why that form, Hermione?" Harry asked, his voice quiet. He knew the Boggart. It was supposed to be his father's killer, a Dementor.
Hermione glared at Malfoy, who was still trying to look anywhere but at the scene of his psychological execution. "That fool exposed it," she said, her voice sharp. "The Boggart transforms into your deepest fear. My fear is not death, or failure. It's becoming that." She gestured to the spot where the saccharine figure had been. "Becoming soft, pliable, and utterly useless. It was a threat. I neutralized it."
Lupin rubbed his temples, feeling like he was caught between two different realities. "The Boggart's gone, Miss Granger. You've lost a valuable teaching aid for the entire year."
The bell for the end of class mercifully rang, like a signal of the students' release. They hurried out, whispering and pointing at the wreckage, all of them completely subdued by the profound violence and psychological terror of the day.
Hermione walked past Malfoy, who was frozen in place, utterly catatonic with fear and humiliation. She paused, her eyes glinting with a cold, predatory amusement.
"Malfoy," her voice was a low, dangerous whisper that only he could hear. "You saw the Boggart. You know what you desire. You like cute, sweet girls, don't you?"
Draco's body stiffened, a silent shriek trapped in his throat.
"Don't worry," she continued, her lips curling into a playful, sinister smile. "I promise you will get your chance to enjoy their cuteness. When the time is right." She then turned and walked away, leaving the paralyzed boy to his terror.
Stark Tower, CEO's Office.
Hermione appeared in a flash of shimmering light, instantly transitioning from the cold stone of Hogwarts to the cool, sterile environment of Stark Tower. She barely had time to put her wand away before a frantic, whispered voice reached her ear.
"Miss! Miss! Thank God you're here!"
Hermione turned and saw Happy Hogan, Tony's bodyguard, pressed against the glass wall of Pepper's office, peering around the corner with an air of conspiratorial panic.
"Happy, what are you doing?" Hermione asked, bemused.
"Shhh!" Happy shushed her frantically, pulling her into the nearest shadowed corner. "It's the man! He's in there with Miss Potts!"
Hermione peered through the glass wall of the office. Pepper was standing by her desk, engaged in a conversation with a tall, well-dressed, and distinctly handsome man who was standing far too close. On the holographic projector between them, a massive, illuminated, complex image of the human brain pulsed slowly.
"He's selling her something," Happy hissed, his face slick with sweat. "But he's standing too close. He's obviously interested in her! That man has 'scheming corporate evil' written all over him, and he's after Tony's girl! I can't let this happen!"
Happy was hyper-vigilant, obsessed with protecting the stability of the Stark family unit. He saw the stranger as a threat to Pepper, and by extension, to Tony.
"So you want me to intervene in a corporate negotiation?" Hermione asked.
"No!" Happy whispered desperately, stamping his foot. "I want you to intervene in a seduction! Look at him! He's got that smarmy, confident look! You have to use your magic! Please! Do something to him! Make him… make him stop!"
Hermione's eyebrows shot up. She looked at the smarmy man, then at Happy's frantic, sweat-soaked face, and a slow, wicked smile spread across her face.
"Wait," she said, her tone suddenly bright and excited. "Tony's going to be cheated on? Oh my god, this is incredible! This is better than any reality show! Is that what you want me to stop? The drama?"
Happy groaned, clutching his hair. "No! Not the drama! I want to stop the act! That man is a threat to the whole thing! Please, Miss! Use your magical power! Make him… make him unable to follow through! If you know what I mean! He has to be put out of commission!"
Hermione looked at the man, then at Happy, and her expression settled into one of profound, cold calculation. A permanent, localized disabling curse was easy enough to cast. It would be untraceable and serve her purposes perfectly.
"A simple surgical strike," she mused. "A favor for a friend."
She nodded, accepting the dark task. "Alright, Happy. I know just the spell for that."