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Malekith was furious. The three humans in robes were looking at him not with fear, but with the pity one accords a rabid dog.
"YOU DARE?!"
His eyes practically spat fire. He screamed, his hands clawing at the air. The Aether responded to his rage. A tsunami of black and red reality-fluid erupted from him, screaming towards the three professors with enough force to level a mountain range.
The three wizards exchanged a single, professional glance. No words were needed. Years of fighting Dark Arts and managing unruly students had honed their coordination to perfection.
CRACK. CRACK. CRACK.
They Apparated.
They reappeared instantly at three equidistant points around the swirling Aether storm, forming a perfect triangle with Malekith in the center.
They raised their wands in unison.
"Harmonia Nectere Passus."
Three dazzling beams of pure white light shot from the tips of their wands. They didn't strike the Aether; they connected with each other, forming a triangular prism of solid light.
The barrier expanded rapidly, enveloping the entire chaotic storm.
HUMMM.
The air vibrated with a low, resonant frequency. The black and red torrent, which had been thrashing like a living beast, suddenly froze. It was as if time inside the prism had solidified. No matter how Malekith screamed or urged the Stone, the Aether remained suspended, trapped in a stasis field of ancient containment magic.
Malekith's arrogance shattered. He stared at his frozen hands.
"THAT'S IMPOSSIBLE!" he shrieked. "I AM THE AETHER! I AM INFINITE!"
Hermione floated leisurely through the barrier, unaffected by her teachers' spellwork. She stopped right in front of the Dark Elf lord.
"Nothing is impossible, Spock," she smiled, her eyes cold. "The Infinity Stones are powerful, yes. But they aren't invincible. And you? You're just a user."
She gestured to the three professors holding the formation. "And my teachers? They grade on a curve. You're failing."
Malekith stared at her, his mind unable to comprehend that he had been checkmated by local Midgardians.
Hermione raised her hand, pointing her wand directly at his chest.
"Finite Incantatem."
Malekith's armor—which was formed from hardened Aether particles—suddenly began to tremble violently. It wasn't being broken; it was being dismissed.
"What... what are you doing?!"
Malekith screamed in terror. He clawed at his chest, desperately trying to hold onto the power, but it was like trying to hold water in a sieve.
The black and red armor peeled away layer by layer, dissolving into harmless mist. It revealed the pale, scarred, pathetic creature underneath.
"This is called magic," Hermione said with an innocent, mocking smile. "Never seen it before, have you, you country bumpkin? Stick to your laser guns."
CLATTER.
The last shard of Aether armor fell to the pavement with a crisp sound.
Malekith stood naked to the wind, stripped of his divinity, stripped of his protection. He looked at Hermione, his body trembling uncontrollably. For the first time in five thousand years, he felt mortal.
Hermione didn't monologue. She didn't hesitate.
"Avada Kedavra, eating a melon!"
FLASH.
A blinding green light washed out the red sky.
Malekith's eyes went wide, filled with resentment and despair. The spell hit him center mass. There was no pain, no struggle. The life simply vanished from his eyes.
His body went rigid, then toppled backward like a felled tree. He hit the ground with a final thud.
The Leader of the Dark Elves was dead.
"Done," Hermione said, clapping her hands to dust them off.
Seeing the threat neutralized, the three professors dropped the containment field. They turned their wands on the remaining Dark Elf ground troops.
Snape unleashed a torrent of cursed fire. McGonagall transfigured the pavement into stone lions that devoured the aliens. Flitwick cast blasting curses that shattered the enemy lines. It was a clean, efficient purge.
The crowd of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents and civilians below watched in utter shock. The magic was beautiful and terrifying. They realized then that the "Witch" wasn't an anomaly; she was part of a civilization of monsters.
With Malekith dead, the Aether particles he had summoned began to go wild. Without a will to direct them, the red fluid surged outward, threatening to consume Greenwich.
Hermione frowned. "This thing is pretty fierce. It lacks discipline."
She flew up to Professor McGonagall. "Professor, we'll have to trouble you for the cleanup."
McGonagall nodded sternly. "Leave it to us, Miss Granger."
The four wizards—Hermione included—raised their wands.
"Reducio!"
The rampaging Aether was compressed by a four-point gravity well. It screamed silently as it was forced inward, shrinking from a storm to a cloud, to a ball, and finally...
DING.
A small, perfectly cut red gemstone floated quietly in the air. The Reality Stone.
The surrounding buildings, which had been half-eaten by darkness, rippled. Under the influence of the Stone's containment, reality snapped back into place. Bricks reformed. Glass un-shattered.
The crisis was over.
The Aftermath.
A group of S.H.I.E.L.D. agents, led by a cautious Ward and Skye, moved to surround the area, weapons lowered but ready.
Professor McGonagall ignored them completely. She looked directly at Hermione, her expression grave.
"The matter is resolved. The celestial alignment is passing. We are heading back now. What about you?"
Hermione waved her hand breezily. "Professors, you go ahead. I have some muggle paperwork to finish. I'll be back for dinner."
She gestured to the floating red gem. "Please take the Reality Stone back to Hogwarts. Put it in the vault with the others."
McGonagall summoned the Stone into a velvet pouch. "Very well."
She hesitated, looking at her student. The sternness in her eyes softened into worry.
"Hermione... be careful."
McGonagall sighed, her voice lowering so only the wizards could hear.
"You have repeatedly disregarded the Ministry of Magic's prohibitions. You operate in the open. You reveal magic to Muggles. Some people in our world are very dissatisfied. Especially after New York."
"Although the Ministry has not taken action yet—mostly out of fear of Dumbledore—the conflict is inevitable. Fudge is paranoid."
McGonagall stepped closer, her eyes piercing. "You know your own identity best, Miss Granger. Your power is growing at a rate that matches the... original prophecy. If there is no restraint, the entire Wizarding World will fear your existence. They will come for you."
Hermione blinked, looking the picture of obedience.
"I understand, Professor," she said sweetly. "I'll be good. I promise not to conquer any governments this week."
McGonagall shook her head helplessly at the girl's carefree attitude. She turned to Snape and Flitwick.
CRACK.
They walked back into the spatial rift.
The image of Hogwarts Castle shimmered and slowly faded, retreating back into its pocket dimension. The sky cleared.
The S.H.I.E.L.D. agents stared longingly at the spot where the ruby had disappeared.
An Infinity Stone, Fury thought, watching from his office. Gone. Just like that.
They knew they weren't qualified to touch it, but the envy was palpable. They felt a sudden emptiness as the heavy magical pressure lifted. They had glimpsed a world of gods and monsters, and now the door was shut.
Coulson rubbed his chin, replaying McGonagall's words.
The Ministry of Magic... Prohibitions... The Original Prophecy.
It clicked.
Hermione wasn't just a powerful wizard. She was a wizard that other wizards were afraid of.
What kind of prophecy scares a society that can hide castles in the sky? Coulson wondered. And is Hermione the hero of that story... or the villain?
The Reunion.
Hermione walked over to where Thor lay. The God of Thunder was conscious but battered, leaning against a pile of rubble.
She waved her wand.
"Episkey. Ferula."
A cool sensation washed over Thor. His broken ribs knit together. The cuts on his face sealed.
Thor groaned, shaking his head as he sat up. He opened his eyes and saw a man in a suit standing over him, offering a hand.
Thor blinked. He blinked again.
"Son of Coul?"
Thor jumped up, ignoring his soreness. His eyes nearly popped out of his head.
"You... you were dead! I saw you die! Loki stabbed you!"
Coulson awkwardly touched his nose. He really didn't know how to explain this to a God who had just lost his brother.
"Thor, calm down. It's a long story," Coulson said. "Technically, I was dead. For a few days. Tahiti is a magical place."
He quickly gave a sanitized version of events.
Thor breathed a sigh of relief, clapping Coulson on the shoulder with enough force to nearly re-kill him. "It is good! A miracle! At least one brother lives today."
His expression darkened immediately as he thought of Loki.
"But my joy is tempered with grief," Thor said, his voice low and heavy. "Malekith is dead, but so is Loki. I must return to Asgard. I must report his sacrifice to my father."
Hermione nodded, hiding a smirk. Go tell 'Odin', she thought.
"Go," Hermione said gently. "Give him a warrior's funeral."
She waved her wand.
VWOOM.
A golden portal spiraled open, leading directly to the Bifrost observatory.
Thor nodded to them all. He gripped Mjolnir, cast one last longing look at Jane (who was safe with S.H.I.E.L.D.), and stepped through the portal.
He had a kingdom to mourn, unaware that the King he was going to see was the very brother he was mourning.