Harry Potter: The Revenant

Steve crouched low, his shield gripped tightly in his left hand as he peered around the corner. Two Hydra agents were stationed ahead, their postures relaxed, their weapons slung carelessly. Amateurs.

Bucky leaned against the wall next to him, his Vibranium arm glinting faintly in the dim light. "You take left, I take right?"

Steve nodded, a small smirk playing on his lips. "Like old times."

With that, they moved. Steve sprinted forward with silent precision, throwing his shield in a smooth arc. It struck the left agent's rifle, sending it clattering to the floor. Before the man could react, Steve was on him, an elbow strike to the temple rendering him unconscious.

Bucky was a blur of motion. He closed the gap to the right agent in seconds, his Vibranium arm clamping around the man's throat in a chokehold. The agent flailed for a moment before slumping.

Dragging the unconscious bodies into the shadows, Bucky glanced at Steve, his tone dry. "These Hydra guys are getting soft."

Steve adjusted his shield, his blue eyes sharp. "Let's hope they stay that way. The others need us inside."

---

Tony Stark lounged against the lab counter, his trademark smirk firmly in place as he swirled the tranquilizer syringe between his fingers like a cocktail stirrer. Across from him, Sinthea Schmidt leaned closer, her eyes scanning him with calculated interest.

"You're not like the others," she said, her tone honeyed and smooth. "You're a man of vision, Tony. Someone who can see the potential for greatness where others see only limitations."

Tony raised an eyebrow, his voice dripping with sarcasm. "Wow, flattery and vague corporate buzzwords? You really do know how to charm a guy."

Sinthea smiled, but it was tight-lipped now. Something in Tony's gaze unnerved her.

The lab door slid open, and the room's temperature seemed to drop. Harry, clad in his gleaming red-and-gold Revenant armor, entered first, his presence commanding. Natasha followed, her Black Widow suit emphasizing her lethal grace.

"Tony," Harry said, his tone even but firm, "time to step away from the snake."

Tony blinked, looking between them with mock confusion. "Snake? Wow, harsh. She hasn't even pitched her pyramid scheme yet."

Natasha's gaze was locked on Sinthea, her voice cool and cutting. "You might want to listen to him, Stark. She's not who you think she is."

Sinthea straightened, her mask of control faltering. "Black Widow," she murmured, her tone laced with disdain. "I should have known." Her eyes flicked to Harry, and recognition dawned as his Vibranium claws extended with a soft snikt.

"Der Winterzauberer," she whispered, the name heavy with both reverence and fear.

Harry's green eyes darkened. "Don't call me that," he said, his voice low and sharp. "I'm not your experiment, and I never will be."

Realizing her cover was blown, Sinthea's hand darted to her pocket. She froze as Tony held up the tranquilizer syringe with a flourish.

"Looking for this?" Tony said, his voice now razor-sharp. "What, you think I was born yesterday? I've been double-crossed by people way prettier than you."

Rhodey's voice crackled over their comms. "Knew you'd see through it, Tony. But, uh… you might want to step away. Like, now."

Tony ignored him, his smirk widening. "By the way, I do have one question—are all Hydra agents this unoriginal, or is it just you?"

Sinthea's composure cracked, fury replacing her earlier charm. "You think you're so clever," she spat.

"Actually, yeah," Tony shot back, glancing at Harry. "I mean, I figured out she was Hydra before you did. Do I get a badge or something?"

Harry ignored him, stepping forward. "She's not just Hydra, Tony," he said, his voice grim. "She's the Red Skull's daughter. Or… more accurately, his science experiment."

Tony froze, his expression shifting from smugness to genuine shock. "Wait, what? You're telling me Little Miss L'Oréal over here is Skull Jr.?"

Harry's lips twitched in a humorless smile. "Calling her a daughter's a stretch. She's more like a bad knockoff made in a Hydra lab."

Tony took a step back, his smirk fading completely. "You've got to be kidding me."

"You wish," Natasha said flatly, tightening her grip on Sinthea, who had made the mistake of trying to edge away.

Peggy and Alexei stepped into the room, flanking the door like sentinels. Peggy's voice was calm but authoritative. "Let's secure her and clean this mess up. Hydra doesn't get a second chance."

Alexei grinned, cracking his knuckles loudly. "I've been waiting for a chance to punch Hydra again. This feels… nostalgic."

Tony glanced over his shoulder at Rhodey, who had just entered with a bemused look. "So, did you know about this, or am I the last one to the party?"

Rhodey shrugged. "You're not last. You're just slow."

Tony groaned, rubbing his temples. "Great. Remind me to rethink my hiring process."

Natasha shoved Sinthea into Alexei's waiting hands. "You should've stayed hidden," she said coldly. "Now you're going to answer for everything you've done."

Harry watched as Alexei hauled Sinthea away, his claws retracting with a metallic click. "Hydra never learns," he muttered.

Tony shot him a dry look. "Yeah, well, maybe next time we lead with 'Hey, Tony, she's a supervillain.' Would've saved me the headache."

Harry smirked. "You'll survive."

Tony shook his head, muttering under his breath as Rhodey clapped him on the shoulder. "Good job not getting killed, Tony. Always proud."

Peggy glanced at Steve and Bucky as they entered, their expressions tense but relieved. "Is everyone accounted for?"

Steve nodded. "Two Hydra agents down. No alarms triggered."

"Teamwork," Bucky added with a rare smirk.

Tony sighed dramatically. "Yeah, teamwork. So glad I'm part of it."

Natasha smirked as she walked past him. "You'll live, Stark."

Tony watched her go, shaking his head. "You know, for once, I miss the boring classes."

—

The tension in the room started to settle as Alexei dragged a kicking and snarling Sinthea toward the corner. "Hydra. Bah. I should have crushed you all like cockroaches long ago," Alexei muttered in his thick accent, shaking his head in disgust.

"You talk a lot for someone who's out of breath," Sinthea sneered, her pride clearly outweighing her current predicament.

"Out of breath? Ha! I wrestle bears for fun!" Alexei shot back. He tightened his grip on her arm. "You, Red Skull Barbie, are no bear."

Peggy trailed after them, her pistol trained on the two unconscious Hydra agents sprawled on the floor. She glanced at Bucky, who was securing their wrists with zip ties.

"Just like old times, huh, Carter?" Bucky quipped, yanking a little harder on the ties than necessary.

"Except now the villains are even more melodramatic," Peggy replied dryly. She tilted her head toward Sinthea. "Genetically engineered offspring of Red Skull? Truly, Hydra's flair for the absurd knows no bounds."

Alexei barked a laugh. "At least this one—how do you Americans say—upgraded the family face, yes? Red Skull was..." He gestured vaguely at his own face, wincing. "Very unfortunate."

Sinthea glared daggers at him but kept her mouth shut, her lips pressed into a thin, angry line.

---

On the other side of the room, Tony Stark was fully in his element, pacing like a caffeinated showman. "Alright, here's the thing," he began, spinning dramatically to face Rhodey. "When she said—wait for it—that she transferred from Caltech to MIT in her final year," he emphasized with a theatrical gasp, "I immediately thought, 'No one pulls off an academic switcharoo like that. Not without raising, you know, all the red flags.'"

Rhodey nodded, arms crossed, his expression a perfect blend of exasperation and amusement. "Exactly! I told you it didn't add up!"

"Right?!" Tony threw his hands in the air, pointing emphatically at Rhodey as if he'd just cracked the Da Vinci Code. "And that's why I decided, 'Hey, let's play along. Let's see where this goes.' Because I knew—knew—that when things inevitably went sideways, you'd do the responsible thing and call Daddy Stark."

Rhodey gave him a deadpan look. "You're welcome, by the way."

"Classic Rhodey," Tony continued, ignoring the comment. "Always doing the heavy lifting. Meanwhile, I—being the genius, billionaire, philanthropist that I am—was already five moves ahead."

"Is that what you're calling it?" Rhodey arched an eyebrow. "Because from where I was standing, it looked like you were walking face-first into a trap."

Tony scoffed, waving the accusation away like an annoying fly. "Details. The important thing is, I was pretending to be caught off guard. That, my friends, is how you do espionage—Stark-style."

Natasha, leaning casually against a wall, snorted. "Reckless and half-baked, you mean."

Tony spun on his heel to face her, finger raised. "Hey. Reckless, yes. But half-baked? Excuse you, Ms. Widow. I'm fully baked. Borderline overcooked, even."

Harry, standing nearby in his gleaming red-and-gold armor, couldn't suppress a smirk. Tony's eyes locked onto him, and he gestured broadly at the younger hero, his expression shifting to one of exaggerated awe. "And speaking of baked," he said, "what's this? New suit? Because let me tell you, the red and gold is working for you, kid. So much better than that edgy 'dark knight' vibe you had going on before."

Harry inclined his head slightly. "Figured it was time for a change. Can't let you hog all the style points."

Tony pressed a hand to his chest, feigning offense. "Hog? Hog?! I don't hog style points. I'm their rightful owner. But seriously," he stepped closer, inspecting Harry's armor with a critical eye, "what's this thing made of? Vibranium? Enchanted dragon scales? Adamantium alloy dipped in unicorn tears?"

Harry chuckled, the sound echoing lightly through his helmet. "Let's just say it's built to last."

"Speaking of magic..." Rhodey, standing a few feet away, pointed toward the shimmering portal Harry was casually conjuring in mid-air. "So, uh, are we just gonna gloss over the fact that this guy can open wormholes now? Is no one else mildly freaked out by this?"

Tony froze, his eyes widening as he whirled to face the swirling gateway. "Oh. My. God." He approached it with the reverence of a man staring into the Ark of the Covenant. "This is amazing. It's like a Stargate, but sleeker. And without all the clunky tech. How does it work? Wait, don't tell me—magic, right? But it's gotta follow some kind of physical laws. Conservation of energy? Quantum stabilization?"

"Pretty sure it's just magic," Harry replied with a shrug.

Tony turned, scandalized. "Just magic? Kid, there's no such thing as just magic. Magic is science we haven't figured out yet. And you're just sitting on this? You've been holding out on me!"

As Tony and Rhodey continued to geek out over the portal, Harry allowed himself a small smile. Moments like this—amidst the chaos and danger—were why he trusted these people. They could find levity even in the darkest situations.

But the levity was short-lived.

The sharp crack of a gunshot ripped through the room, silencing the banter instantly. Time seemed to slow as Rhodey staggered forward, his face contorting in pain. A dark red stain spread rapidly across his back as he collapsed to the floor.

"Rhodey!" Tony's voice cracked, panic overtaking his usual bravado as he dropped to his knees beside his friend.

Natasha was already moving, her guns drawn as she scanned the shadows. Harry's claws extended with a metallic snikt, his glowing eyes narrowing as he turned toward the rafters.

Alexei yanked Peggy behind cover, his face set in grim determination. "Sniper," Peggy said, her voice low but steady. "Above us."

Harry's magic flared, his armor humming with power. "I'll find them," he said, his tone cold and sharp. "Stay with Rhodey."

Tony was already pressing his hands to the wound, his voice shaking. "You're gonna be fine, Rhodey. You hear me? Fine. Because if you're not, I swear I'll—" His voice broke, and he shook his head. "I'll figure something out. I always do."

Natasha knelt beside him, her voice calm and firm. "We've got this, Stark. Go, Harry."

Harry nodded and stepped through the portal, his armor glowing brighter as he disappeared into the unknown, hunting the unseen threat with deadly precision.

—

The rooftop was eerily quiet as Harry stepped through the portal. His red-and-gold armor shimmered in the moonlight, the runes etched into its surface faintly glowing. The scent of gunpowder still hung in the air, mingling with the distant hum of the city below. His sharp green eyes locked onto the sniper crouched near the edge, fumbling with something in his hand.

Harry's voice cut through the silence, cold and commanding. "Drop it. Now."

The sniper froze but didn't comply. Instead, with a defiant sneer, he brought a small, glinting pill to his lips.

Harry groaned, exasperated. "Really? Suicide pill? That's so cliché."

The man smirked. "Hail Hydra."

"Yeah, yeah. Hail this."

With a swift flick of his wrist, Harry sent a golden Stunner spell hurtling through the air. It struck the sniper square in the chest, and the man went rigid before collapsing in a heap. The pill rolled harmlessly away, clinking against the rooftop.

Harry approached, muttering under his breath. "You Hydra guys really need a new playbook." He crouched down, double-checking that the man was out cold. "Alright, Sleeping Beauty, let's get you back to the party."

Effortlessly, Harry hoisted the sniper over his shoulder, the armor's enhanced strength making the weight negligible. With a quick incantation, another portal spun into existence.

---

The scene was pure chaos.

Tony Stark was kneeling beside Rhodey, his hands slick with blood as he pressed a wad of cloth against the wound. "Stay with me, Rhodey. You're not checking out yet, alright? I mean, who's going to roast me during board meetings if you're not around?"

Rhodey groaned, his voice weak but still laced with his signature dry wit. "Pretty sure... you roast yourself... enough for the both of us."

Tony's laugh was strained, almost manic. "That's the spirit, buddy. Keep the sass coming. I need it."

Natasha was standing guard, her sharp eyes scanning the room for any lingering threats. Peggy was securing the unconscious Hydra agents, her movements precise and methodical. Alexei was pacing, muttering something in Russian about how much he hated snipers.

Then, Harry stepped through the portal, the unconscious sniper slung over his shoulder.

"Got him," Harry announced, dropping the man unceremoniously onto the floor. The thud drew everyone's attention.

Tony glanced up, his expression a mixture of relief and frustration. "Oh great, the wizard shows up with the guy who shot my best friend. Perfect timing as always, Potter."

"Good to see you too, Stark," Harry shot back, his tone dry.

Natasha crouched beside the sniper, checking him over. "He's out cold. Nice work."

"Yeah, well, he tried the whole 'Hail Hydra, swallow the pill' thing," Harry said, gesturing vaguely. "Had to knock him out before he went full spy-movie dramatic."

"Classic Hydra," Peggy muttered, shaking her head.

Harry's gaze shifted to Rhodey, who was pale but still conscious. "How's he doing?"

Tony's voice was sharp. "Bleeding. Profusely. Thanks for asking."

Rhodey managed a faint smirk. "He's being... dramatic. It's just a flesh wound."

Tony's head snapped toward him. "Oh, a flesh wound? Excuse me, Colonel, but I'm pretty sure flesh wounds don't involve this much blood. Just saying."

"Tony, shut up and focus," Natasha cut in, her voice steady. "Harry, can you get us to a healer? Now."

"Already on it." Harry extended his hands, summoning another portal. This one opened to the New York safehouse, the cozy interior glowing warmly through the shimmering gateway.

"Andromeda!" Harry called out, his voice urgent. "Ted! We've got an emergency!"

A moment later, Andromeda Tonks appeared, her sharp features calm yet commanding. Her gaze immediately fell on Rhodey, and she didn't waste a second. "Bring him through. Quickly."

Harry and Natasha lifted Rhodey carefully, carrying him through the portal. Tony followed close behind, his usually cocky demeanor replaced by raw, unfiltered worry.

---

The safehouse was suddenly alive with activity. Ted Tonks rushed into the room, already rolling up his sleeves, while Andromeda began casting diagnostic spells over Rhodey.

"Lay him here," she ordered, gesturing to a sturdy table. "We need to stabilize him immediately."

Tony hovered nervously, pacing back and forth. "Okay, magic doctors. You've got this, right? I mean, you've dealt with worse, haven't you? Like... I don't know, magical dragon wounds or something?"

Andromeda didn't even glance at him. "Quiet. And yes, we've dealt with worse. But I need focus."

Tony threw up his hands. "Right, of course. Focus. I'm totally focused. Except my best friend is currently bleeding out, and I'm about two seconds away from having a heart attack, but sure, no pressure."

Rhodey groaned, his voice barely above a whisper. "Stark... stop... talking."

"Hey, you're the one who got shot, not me!" Tony snapped, his voice breaking.

"Exactly... so shut up... and let the nice magic lady... save my life," Rhodey rasped.

Harry smirked from the corner. "Still has his sense of humor. That's a good sign."

Tony shot him a glare. "Not the time, Potter."

Ted approached Tony, placing a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "He'll pull through. Andromeda's the best there is."

Tony exhaled shakily, nodding. "Yeah, okay. Good. Because if he doesn't, I'm going to personally hunt down every last Hydra agent on the planet and make them regret ever being born."

"Noted," Harry said dryly.

As Andromeda worked, her spells weaving a golden glow over Rhodey's wound, the tension in the room began to ease. Ted handed her various potions and salves, and within moments, Rhodey's breathing became steadier.

Tony, unable to resist, leaned in. "So... is that some kind of magical antiseptic? Or are you just showing off with the glowy stuff?"

Andromeda shot him a sharp look. "Mr. Stark, if you don't sit down and let me work, I will hex your mouth shut."

Harry snorted. "I'd pay to see that."

Rhodey chuckled weakly. "So would I."

Tony threw up his hands. "Unbelievable. I'm surrounded by ingrates."

"Welcome to the club," Harry quipped, earning a faint smirk from Natasha.

For the first time that night, the room felt lighter. But Harry's gaze shifted to the unconscious sniper still slumped in the corner.

"Once Rhodey's stable," he said, his voice cold, "we're going to find out who sent that guy. And they're going to regret it."

Tony's expression hardened. "Damn right they will."

—

With the hallway outside humming with activity—Tony pacing like a caged animal, Peggy keeping watch, and Harry deep in conversation with Natasha about interrogation strategies—Andromeda and Ted stood side by side, focused on their most immediate concern: Rhodey.

Rhodey lay on the operating table, still conscious, though his face was pale and slick with sweat. His breathing was shallow, his lips pressed into a thin line, and yet, his trademark dry wit was still intact.

"So, you're telling me," Rhodey croaked, his voice raspy and tinged with pain, "you're going to pull a bullet out of my spine with... magic?"

Andromeda, her face calm but her eyes sharp, gave him a small, reassuring smile as she adjusted her wand. "With magic and precision. You're in good hands, Mr. Rhodes. Don't worry."

Ted, ever the realist, snorted as he prepared a tray of potions and surgical tools. "If it were just me, I'd be calling for an ambulance. But Andromeda's magic is the real deal. You're lucky she's here."

"Comforting," Rhodey deadpanned, his lips curling into the faintest of grins despite the pain. "Just remember, I don't do well with needles."

"Mr. Rhodes," Andromeda said, her voice shifting to a more serious tone, "this is delicate. The bullet is lodged dangerously close to your spinal cord. One wrong move, and—"

"I end up in a wheelchair, joining the exclusive club of 'guys who make bad life choices,'" Rhodey finished, his eyes gleaming with the stubborn determination that had always been his trademark. "Got it. I'll be on my best behavior."

Andromeda didn't waste energy on responding to his sarcastic quip. Instead, she waved her wand, and a translucent, three-dimensional image of Rhodey's spine appeared above him, glowing softly. The bullet, as expected, was perilously close to a nerve cluster. One wrong move could mean permanent damage.

Ted, his face grim but focused, whistled low. "Damn. Hydra sure doesn't pull punches."

"Focus, Ted," Andromeda snapped, though there was no real heat in her tone. Her gaze never left the magical projection.

Ted nodded, suddenly dead serious. He handed her a thin, silver instrument that resembled a pair of tongs but was enchanted to respond only to her will. "Got the stabilization charm ready. Just give the word."

Andromeda gave a single nod, her voice steady as she addressed Rhodey. "Alright, Mr. Rhodes, this is going to be uncomfortable. Hold still."

Rhodey smirked despite the situation. "Uncomfortable? Lady, I've been shot. I've got a pretty high bar for 'uncomfortable.'"

"Good to know," Andromeda replied dryly, though a hint of amusement crept into her voice. "Let's see if this one meets the mark."

With a sharp flick of her wand, Andromeda summoned the tongs and hovered them above the embedded bullet. Ted held his wand steady, the magical image of Rhodey's spine glowing brighter under the charm's influence.

Slowly, carefully, Andromeda guided the tongs toward the bullet, her eyes narrowing in concentration. Sweat trickled down her temple as the task demanded all of her focus. Every movement had to be precise.

Rhodey, for his part, was quiet now, his face taut with determination, his hands gripping the edges of the table. He exhaled sharply, feeling every nerve on edge.

"So... if I make it through this, I get a lollipop, right? Or is that just for the kids?" Rhodey quipped, trying to distract himself from the pain.

Ted couldn't help it. He let out a chuckle, his voice low. "I think Stark's got a stash of them somewhere. Maybe after you're done being a hero."

Andromeda didn't take her eyes off her work. "Almost there, just... a little more..."

The bullet finally came free, making a soft ping as it dropped into the small dish Ted had prepared for it. Rhodey's body seemed to relax in the aftermath, his breath escaping in a relieved exhale.

Andromeda immediately followed up with a series of healing charms. The magic stitched the damaged tissue together, and she carefully administered a potion designed to accelerate healing and reduce inflammation. Rhodey swallowed it with minimal protest, his eyes still half-lidded from the pain.

"There," Andromeda said, stepping back with a small but genuine sigh of relief. "The bullet's out, and you'll live. But you're not out of the woods yet. Rest and monitoring are a must."

Rhodey cracked one eye open, staring up at her, then let out a tired but amused smirk. "So... no lollipop? Not even a get well soon card?"

Ted burst out laughing. "Mr. Rhodes, you really are something else."

Andromeda rolled her eyes, but a smile tugged at the corner of her mouth. "You'll get your lollipop when you can walk out of here on your own two feet. Until then, no sweet treats."

Rhodey grinned faintly. "Deal."

---

Tony was pacing outside the makeshift medical room, his hands running through his hair, his face tight with worry. He was trying to mask the tension, but it was clear from the way his eyes flickered to the door every few seconds that he was on edge. When Andromeda emerged, wiping her hands on a cloth, he practically pounced on her.

"Is he okay? Did you get it out? Is he—"

"He's fine, Tony," Andromeda interrupted, her voice calm but firm. "The bullet's out, and there doesn't appear to be any permanent damage. But you need to get him to rest. Rest, Tony—no heroics."

Tony let out a breath he'd been holding for too long. His shoulders sagged with a weight that seemed to finally lift. "Got it. No heroics. For now."

Andromeda gave him a pointed, almost warning look. "For his sake, stick to it."

As she turned to walk away, Tony caught her arm for a second, a rare moment of sincerity flickering in his eyes. "Thanks, Andromeda. Seriously."

She gave him a small nod, the weight of her words heavy. "You're welcome. Just... keep him down, okay?"

Tony watched her go, his gaze softening. He turned to Harry, who had been standing nearby, observing the whole exchange.

"Guess I owe you one, Potter," Tony said, managing a smirk despite his exhaustion.

Harry raised an eyebrow, the corner of his mouth twitching into a grin. "You owe me more than one, Stark. But hey, who's counting?"

"Me," Tony shot back, his usual snark returning in full force. "I'm a billionaire, remember? I count everything."

From inside the medical room, Rhodey's voice suddenly cut through, weak but unmistakable.

"Stark! Shut up! And bring me that damn lollipop."

Tony and Harry exchanged a look before both of them burst out laughing. The tension in the air evaporated, if only for a moment, as the camaraderie between them all took center stage.

—

The thick door to the interrogation room groaned as Steve Rogers, Bucky Barnes, and Alexei Shostakov walked in, flanking their four prisoners. Sinthea Schmidt led the procession, her hands bound in enchanted restraints, a sharp edge of defiance in her steely eyes. The two Hydra agents were close behind her, their expressions carefully blank, but their tense postures told a different story. The sniper lagged slightly at the back, his eyes darting around nervously as if searching for an exit that didn't exist.

The safehouse was spartan—cold fluorescent lights flickering overhead, the kind that made everything feel a little too clinical, a little too unwelcoming. A simple metal table sat in the center of the room, four uncomfortable chairs on either side. The atmosphere hummed with the tension of anticipation, the kind of energy that always preceded one of Steve's "talks."

Steve didn't waste any time. He strode into the room, his gaze sweeping over each prisoner. "Sit them down," he ordered in his usual no-nonsense tone, voice as steady as the calm before a storm.

Bucky stepped into the room behind him, his eyes already narrowed, taking in the prisoners with the same cold precision that had served him well through years of wars and covert operations. He leaned against the wall by the door, arms folded across his chest, muscles tensed, his metal arm reflecting the dim light.

Alexei lumbered into the room next, the air around him crackling with an energy that screamed "I've been waiting for this." He cracked his knuckles audibly, grinning like a bear eyeing a honey pot. The Russian's bulk made him seem more like a force of nature than a person, his body radiating a kind of intimidating calm.

Steve gestured toward the table with a slight flick of his hand. "Have a seat, Schmidt," he said, his voice calm but with an undercurrent of menace.

Sinthea smirked but complied, sitting down with a defiant tilt of her chin. The two Hydra agents followed suit, sitting in stony silence. The sniper, shifting uncomfortably in his restraints, took the final chair.

Steve moved to the head of the table, his blue eyes piercing as they locked onto Sinthea. "So, you've got a pretty big problem on your hands, don't you? A failed mission. A sixteen-year-old Tony Stark was your bait. You think you can just waltz in and play the system?"

Bucky snorted from the corner. "Oh, yeah. Real smart move, Schmidt. A teenage genius who can hack the Pentagon before breakfast and make a killer espresso in the afternoon. The kid's so easy to fool."

Alexei let out a deep chuckle, leaning forward on his elbows, eyes dancing with amusement. "And who thought that would work? Maybe in some Hydra fantasy land where everybody's dumb enough to believe that Tony Stark would be taken in by a pretty face."

Sinthea's gaze flickered, her eyes narrowing slightly, but she said nothing. She was studying them, evaluating them, a predator sizing up its prey before making a move.

Steve's jaw clenched as he leaned forward, his hands resting on the metal table, fingers digging into the cold surface. "We're not here to talk about how clever you think you are. We're here to talk about why you thought it was a good idea to use a sixteen-year-old boy as leverage. A kid who's been in the crosshairs of Hydra since day one."

Bucky's voice was dark and laced with frustration. "You didn't even think this through, did you? What did you think, Schmidt? That Stark was just gonna fall for your little 'honeypot' and tell you all his secrets?"

Alexei barked a laugh, shaking his head. "I'll give you credit. You've got guts. But that's about it. I'm guessing Tony didn't even break a sweat while you were playing him. Did you think he wouldn't catch on to the fact that you were reading from the same tired old Hydra playbook?"

Tony's name hung in the air like a taunt. The mere mention of him seemed to rattle Sinthea just enough for a flicker of emotion to cross her otherwise impassive face. But it was only for a second.

"I don't need to explain myself to you," Sinthea snapped, her voice dripping with disdain. "You'll never understand what Hydra is trying to do."

Steve's gaze hardened. "Try me."

Bucky stepped closer, leaning on the back of a chair, arms crossed. "Listen, sweetheart. We've been around the block a few times, okay? We know how this game's played. So cut the crap and tell us what the hell Hydra was really after."

Alexei gave a theatrical yawn, stretching his arms above his head. "Come on, this is getting boring. You can either talk to us, or you can talk to... other people. Your choice." His eyes glinted with amusement, clearly enjoying the power dynamic more than he was letting on.

But Sinthea wasn't fazed. "You think you're so clever," she said coldly, narrowing her eyes. "You really have no idea what Hydra's after. This was never about Stark. This was always about something bigger. It was about testing how they would react to an unexpected target. We wanted to see if you could be caught off guard. And you were."

Steve's brow furrowed. "Caught off guard? You're telling me this was just... a test?"

"A test," Sinthea confirmed, her lips curling into a smile that didn't reach her eyes. "And you failed."

Bucky tilted his head, his voice low. "You've gotta be kidding me. A test? You risked a sixteen-year-old boy's life just to see if we'd bite?"

Alexei cracked his knuckles, his grin only widening. "Sounds like someone's been taking notes from the school of bad guys 101."

But Steve wasn't going to let her derail the conversation. "Who's really behind this, Schmidt?" His voice dropped, as sharp as the steel of his shield. "Who's calling the shots?"

But instead of answering, Sinthea simply stared at him, her eyes gleaming with something dark and self-satisfied.

Steve's hand tightened around the back of the chair, his patience running thin. "Last chance, Schmidt. Why Tony Stark? And what's Hydra really trying to achieve?"

Before she could answer, the door to the room swung open, and Tony Stark sauntered in, wearing his usual cocky grin, arms crossed over his chest. His presence immediately shifted the energy in the room. Where Steve was the calm and collected leader, Tony was the storm that rolled in without warning, throwing everyone off balance.

"Well, well, well," Tony said, his voice dripping with sarcasm as he looked at the Hydra agents like they were a group of preschoolers. "This is just too cute. Captain, I'm disappointed. You're letting these amateurs hold the stage? I thought we were doing this properly."

Steve rolled his eyes. "Tony, don't make this harder than it needs to be."

Tony ignored him, eyes locked onto Sinthea. "So, you're the mastermind behind the daring attempt to turn me into the next Bond villain's pet? You thought you could trick me, huh?" He leaned forward, his smirk widening. "Tell me, how'd that feel when you realized I was playing you the whole time? I mean, it was almost too easy."

Sinthea's jaw clenched, her eyes flashing with something deeper than irritation. She'd underestimated Stark—and now it was painfully clear.

Tony looked over at Steve. "So, what's the plan here, Cap? I'm dying to know what else Hydra was cooking up." His eyes flicked back to Sinthea. "I mean, I know they love their little schemes. But this one? A little too on-the-nose, even for them."

The tension in the room mounted, the unspoken question hanging heavy: Was she really going to crack under Tony's unrelenting barrage of confidence and wit, or was there more to Hydra's plot that they hadn't uncovered yet? Only time—and Sinthea—would tell.

---

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