Gemini wore an expression of quiet satisfaction. "My discovery, my rules. I'll have your portrait relocated to supervise his training personally."
Snape released a disdainful snort but offered no objection, merely turning his back and stalking from the frame with characteristic dramatic flair.
Gemini smothered a giggle behind her palm before instructing Coby to relocate the portrait to Banner's workspace.
After two days of well-deserved rest, Gemini felt sufficiently recovered to tackle her next project. She examined her recent purchases, unwrapping the Firebolt IX for a thorough inspection. Satisfied with its pristine condition, she gathered the unopened package and stepped into the Floo network.
Emerging from the Stark mansion's fireplace, Gemini stopped dead in her tracks. The pristine living space had been transformed into what appeared to be a war zone—shattered glass carpeted the floor, expensive liquor stained the walls, and furniture lay in various states of destruction.
Tony sprawled in the center of the chaos, still encased in his Mark V armor.
"What in Merlin's name happened here?" Gemini demanded, surveying the devastation. "Where's Bogg?"
"Miss Black!" The house-elf materialized with tears streaming down his wrinkled cheeks. "Bogg is so relieved you've come! Master forbade Bogg from contacting you, forbade Bogg from interfering! Master's friend came and... and they fought terribly!"
Gemini's frown deepened into something approaching dangerous. "Two days ago everything was fine. What changed?"
Tony, his faceplate retracted, remained sprawled among the wreckage. "Adult problems require adult solutions. Kids should stick to coloring books."
Gemini approached with deliberate calm, dropping the broomstick package onto his armored chest. Her wand appeared in her hand with practiced ease, its tip tracing lazy patterns against her palm as she regarded him with arctic amusement.
"I'm sorry," she said with deceptive sweetness, "could you repeat that? I don't think I heard you correctly."
Tony's bravado evaporated instantly. "Whoa, whoa! Let's not do anything hasty here! I'm completely wandless and at your mercy!"
"Much better." Gemini found a relatively intact section of floor and settled in to listen. "Now then—explain."
Tony struggled upright, his armor clanking against debris. "It was all theater, really. Carefully choreographed political necessity."
"So to appease the military-industrial complex, you gifted your best friend a weapons system worth several billion dollars?" Gemini's tone could have frozen Butterbeer.
"Rhodey's good people," Tony said defensively, his sheepish grin undermining any attempt at dignity. "Besides, better him than some Pentagon bureaucrat who'd use it to invade small countries for their oil reserves."
Gemini studied his expression, searching for deception. "And this... performance... is concluded?"
At Tony's confirming nod, she turned her attention to the trembling house-elf. "Bogg, restore this disaster to its former glory. Your master claims his little drama has reached its finale."
"Yes, Miss Black!" Bogg shrieked with relief, immediately setting about repairing the extensive damage with house-elf efficiency.
Tony extracted himself from the Mark V with JARVIS's assistance, emerging in a rumpled t-shirt that had seen better days.
"Not that I'm complaining about the company," he said, settling onto a freshly restored sofa, "but what brings you to my humble, recently demolished abode?"
Gemini retrieved the long package and tossed it in his direction. "Compensation for the Monaco disappointment. There's a Quidditch match approaching that should prove... educational. You're welcome to bring Ms. Potts."
Tony caught the package with the reflexes of someone accustomed to flying debris. Unwrapping it revealed a sleek broomstick that seemed to shimmer with barely contained magic.
"Right," he said, examining the implement with engineering curiosity. "Basic question from the Muggle in the room—how exactly does one ride a stick without causing permanent anatomical damage?"
Gemini sighed with the patience of someone explaining gravity to a particularly dense student. "Cushioning Charms are woven throughout the shaft. Once mounted, it's remarkably comfortable—think luxury motorcycle rather than medieval torture device."
Tony's expression brightened considerably. "Now that sounds manageable. Any chance I could take it for a test flight? It's late, the neighbors are asleep, and I control all local surveillance networks."
Gemini immediately regretted her generous impulse. Tony's enthusiasm for new technology was legendary—and frequently catastrophic.
"Coby," she called resignedly, "retrieve my racing broom and Quidditch gear. Apparently, we're conducting flight school tonight."
Minutes later, Gemini emerged from a guest room transformed. Gone was the elegant socialite; in her place stood a Slytherin Quidditch player in full regalia. The emerald and silver uniform emphasized her athletic build and lent her an air of dangerous competence.
On the mansion's rooftop, Gemini paused to assess Tony's condition. "Before we begin—you reek of alcohol. Please tell me you haven't been drinking."
"Purely theatrical," Tony assured her quickly. "I had maybe half a cocktail for authenticity, but most of the smell comes from what got spilled during our... disagreement. I'm not stupid enough to fly intoxicated."
Satisfied, Gemini began the lesson. "Observe carefully. Place the broom beside your feet, extend your dominant hand, and command it to rise. The key is absolute confidence—doubt will leave you grounded."
Her Firebolt snapped to her palm like a trained falcon returning to its perch.
Tony approached his broom with the concentration of someone defusing a bomb. "Up?" he ventured uncertainly.
The broomstick rolled pathetically across the rooftop.
"JARVIS!" Gemini gasped between fits of laughter, "please tell me you recorded that masterpiece!"
"Indeed, Miss Black," the AI responded with what sounded suspiciously like amusement. "The footage has been automatically archived and transmitted to your personal collection as requested."
"JARVIS!" Tony yelped in betrayal. "Delete that immediately!"
"I'm afraid that's impossible, sir. Miss Black's instructions took precedence, and the file has already been distributed to her secure servers."
Gemini wiped tears from her eyes. "Don't look so mortified—very few people succeed on their first attempt. The broom responds to intent and confidence. Try again, and this time, mean it."
Tony approached the exercise with renewed determination. On his third attempt, the broomstick leaped eagerly into his grasp.
"There we go!" he crowed triumphantly. "Genius-level intellect for the win! What's next?"
Gemini demonstrated the mounting technique with fluid grace. "Swing your leg over—yes, like that—settle your weight, and give the gentlest push-off you can manage. Remember, this isn't your armor. There are no repulsors to catch you if things go wrong."
Tony followed her instructions with exaggerated care, barely managing to achieve a few inches of altitude. The Cushioning Charms engaged immediately, providing support that felt remarkably similar to his favorite motorcycle.
"I'll be damned," he murmured, experimentally shifting his weight. "This is actually comfortable."
Gemini guided him through the fundamentals—altitude control, directional changes, proper landing technique. Tony proved a surprisingly apt student once he stopped overthinking the physics.
"The footrests are a nice touch," he commented as they completed a leisurely circuit of the mansion grounds. The night air felt entirely different from his usual high-altitude flights—more intimate, somehow more connected to the world below.
Gemini grinned with anticipation. "Ready for the advanced course?"
Before he could respond, she pressed herself flat against her broom, angled the nose skyward, and rocketed into the darkness like a emerald comet. Her laughter drifted down from the stars, wild and free and utterly infectious.
Tony stared upward, his engineer's mind already calculating acceleration curves and wondering if he could retrofit his suits with whatever propulsion system made that possible.
"JARVIS," he said quietly, "remind me to never underestimate wizards again."
"Noted, sir. Shall I begin researching magical aerodynamics?"
Tony grinned and leaned forward on his broom. "Absolutely. And JARVIS? Clear my calendar for tomorrow. I have a feeling I'm going to need practice."
Above them, Gemini executed a perfect barrel roll, her delighted whoops echoing across the Malibu hills. For the first time in weeks, Tony felt the familiar thrill of discovering something genuinely new—something that couldn't be reverse-engineered or mass-produced.
Something magical.
~~~~❃❃~~~~~~~~❃❃~~~~
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