TO LOVE A SUPERHERO

Summary: High School wasn't easy. Leading a double life wasn't easy. Being a teenage superhero wasn't easy. Being the youngest and least experienced member of the Avengers wasn't easy. But falling in love? That was the hardest thing he'd ever done, and yet, he didn't regret it. He didn't regret meeting Hermione Granger.

Disclaimer: I do not own canon events and characters, they belong to J.K Rowling and Marvel. I am not making a profit from writing and posting this fanfic. This takes place after Homecoming and Infinity War hasn't yet happened, and also, neither Tony nor Natasha are going to die because I said so and I'll be making big changes to stop that from happening. Also, the Avengers are still one big happy family and they never broke up. Yay!

I've also upped Peter's age to seventeen to close the age gap a little more, and he's also going to be taller. As for the Harry Potter Universe, I'm making it so the war ended a year earlier but everything that happened in cannon still happened, just a lot sooner. Just go with it, it's less confusing that way.

This is Peter's POV.

AN

Okay, I'm back with a new fic and once again I'm spamming your e-mail, but I couldn't help myself. This is the reason I haven't posted in a little while because I've been focused on nothing but this. The idea for this pairing has been niggling at me for a while now and I've been wanting to put it down in writing. I'd only intended on this being a one-shot but I just couldn't stop writing. So while this may only have a handful of chapters, the chapters themselves are crazy long! I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it.

You all should know by now that I've never once asked or begged for reviews. Like ever! But I would really love to hear your opinion on this one. This is my first HP x MCU crossover and I do wish to and I am planning on writing more, so, does the plot work? Do the personalities I've given the characters? What about the relationships and friendships? Please let me know if you have time, I really need your help for this crossover as I'm stepping out of my comfort zone and into uncharted waters.

Alright, that's enough now. Enjoy!

Page count: 29

His head pounded as if he'd just had a train dropped on him. His body ached and his muscles were sore. The ground beneath him was cold and hard, not helping his aching body in the slightest.

The sound of New York traffic, people hailing cabs and honking horns filled his ears. He could feel the breeze tousling his hair and brushing against his skin, it being a nice escape from the sun beaming down on his face. He heard movement from nearby but couldn't bring himself to open his eyes, not yet, not when he was still absorbing the pain.

A cold, soft fabric pressed against the bare skin of his left side jaw, it both stinging and soothing at the same time and he let out a noise that was a cross between a groan and a sigh and he felt his body relax further against the hard ground.

A second soft, damp fabric was pressed against his forehead, brushing his hair back from his eyes before it was gently swiped across his skin, his forehead tingling as the breeze reacted to the dampness it left behind and he tilted his head a little when he felt the fabric leave his skin.

As he adjusted, the sounds around him dulled and he was able to focus a little more on what was happening, and that's when he realised, the fabric was pressed to his skin, not his mask.

Unable to stop himself his eyes flew open, squinting in the sunlight until his eyes adjusted to the brightness and he turned his head to the side, his eyes widening at the sight that met him.

It was a woman, though she looked more like a teenager, probably around his age, he thought. She was sat on the ground beside him, her denim-clad legs tucked under her and her face partially turned away from him as she dug through the contents of one of the bags that were beside her. She had long mahogany coloured hair that fell down to the middle of her back, her curls looking wild and untameable and the sun shone down on her, making it look soft and shiny. From the perfect tips of her hair and given how healthy it looked, he suspected she'd recently had it cut.

His eyes trailed over her clothing. Her feet were covered by black converse, her denim jeans looked snug around her hips and ankles and she had rips in the knees like he'd seen most of his school peers wearing. She had on a slightly oversized t-shirt with a large logo printed on the front but he didn't recognise it, and he spied a jacket being on the ground behind her feet.

His eyes moved up to her face, seeing her pale skin and her little button nose with a few freckles covering the bridge of her nose. She had thin eyebrows, pink lips with the bottom looking a little fuller than the top and a frown pulled at her brow and her teeth bit into her lip as she focused on her task. He admitted to himself that she was pretty.

There was something about her. He could feel it, his spidey senses telling him that although she wasn't a danger to him, she was different.

Her head turned and he found himself getting caught in the biggest, brownest eyes he'd ever seen. Her expression was one of surprise and intrigue and worry and she let out a puff of air as her teeth slowly retracted from her lip.

He definitely hadn't been expecting what came out of her mouth, or he should say, the way it came out of her mouth, the accent behind it. She was British.

"Oh, thank heavens you're awake, I was a little worried I'd have to take you to hospital," she said, and whilst doing so, she reached over and pressed the soft, damp fabric to his forehead once more, not taking her gaze from his. He got the feeling she'd done this before, that he wasn't the first person she'd taken care of.

"What happened?" He asked. There were many questions running through his mind but that one seemed the most logical and the easiest to articulate.

She gave him a little smile, it was comforting. "I'm not entirely sure, to be honest," she answered him, her voice being gentle on his sensitive hearing. "I was walking down the street when I just happened to look up at the rooftops and I saw you hit the ground. I knew it wouldn't be right if I just left without making sure you were alright, so, I put on my big girl pants and climbed onto the roof where I found you passed out."

"Huh?"

"I'm terrified of heights," she explained. "Like really terrified, but I put that aside to make sure you were okay."

He tilted his head away from her and in the opposite direction, leaning further into the soft fabric swiping across his forehead and he caught sight of the rooftop of the building next to him, seeing some of his webbing being stuck to the side of it.

He remembered now. He'd been stopping a robbery in progress and that led to a chase through the city with the police not far behind him. In the process of catching the criminals and saving the lives of the civilians that had been run off the bridge during the chase, he'd banged his head so hard he saw stars. He supposed he'd managed to stay conscious long enough to get away to safety so no one would discover his identity, but then again, the girl next to him had now seen his face. He turned his head to look at her.

"Are you feeling okay?" She asked, genuine concern in both her voice and her eyes. "I don't know what happened but you do have a bit of a bump on the back of your head and you've been out for about fifteen minutes. Should I take you to the hospital?"

"No, I'm fine, thank you," he replied.

He dug his elbows into the ground before pushing himself up, his body and muscles protesting against the movement and he groaned in pain before falling back down. Before he could bang his head again, he felt her hand catch him and taking the brunt force of hitting the ground. Well, now he felt guilty.

"You really shouldn't move, not yet," she said. "And you should do your best not to fall asleep either, head injuries can be serious so you really should get it checked out. I'm no doctor and I did the best for you, but that scrape on your jaw's a little nasty looking, too. You probably did it when you fell."

"I'll be fine, I heal quickly," he said.

She smiled at him. "Lucky you, I bang my arm and I've got a bruise for weeks," she said.

He looked up into her eyes once more, they were big and bright and soft, but he got the feeling that was just on the surface. There was something beneath all of that, something he couldn't quite see or understand, but he knew it was there.

"Who are you?"

"Oh, terribly sorry, you must think me strange," she shook her head, her wild curls bouncing at the movement and some of them draping over her shoulder and falling into her face. He felt his mouth twitch in amusement when she huffed in annoyance, blowing it out of her face only for it to fall back into place and then she shoved it back over her shoulder. "I'm Hermione, Hermione Granger," she smiled.

Pretty name, he thought.

"You're not from around here, are you?" He asked. She laughed lightly, the sound sending a shiver down his spine and his skin tingling before it had even reached his ears.

"No, I suppose my accent gave that away. I recently moved here. I've only been here a week and trust me to find a stranger that needed patching up whilst I was doing a bit of exploring."

His eyes darted to the bags beside her and he looked down at her hands, seeing a bottle of water and noting that the fabric she'd been using on him was a white t-shirt, and it still had the tags on it. It was recently bought but likely the only thing she had with her to help tend to his wounds and now he felt extra guilty.

"Don't worry about it," she smiled, obviously seeing where his eyes had landed. "I tend to wash all of my newly bought clothes before wearing them anyway, a habit I picked up from my mother," she smiled, but this time he noticed her smile wasn't as easy or bright and the corner of her eyes tightened slightly. "So, what's with the suit?" She asked.

He blinked slowly, was she trying to be funny or did she genuinely not have a clue about who he was? He looked to her, seeing the genuine confusion on her face.

"Er, well, I'm Spider-man," he said with a slight wince, knowing he really wasn't supposed to let anyone see him in his suit without his mask, but then this wasn't actually his fault, not really.

"Oh," she said, understanding flashing across her face. "The superhero, right? I've heard about you." She smiled and he felt his face heat up. "Not a lot of people would have the bravery or selflessness to do what you do," she said softly and his face reddened at her words, feeling both embarrassed and touched. "And I'm sorry I didn't recognise you, even with the suit, I've been living under a rock for the last few years and haven't been paying much attention to the outside world," she said, her eyes again tightening at the corners and her smile seeming less easy, but she shook her head. "Anyway, you should be alright now, do you want to try and stand up?"

"Er, yeah, sure," he answered, pushing himself up on to his elbows and pausing for a moment. He might've had super strength but that didn't mean it didn't hurt when being slammed into the side of a truck or that his muscles and body didn't ache after lifting and pulling numerous cars back onto a bridge.

"Do you need me to help you?" She asked, a worried frown pulling at her face.

"I don't know," he said honestly.

"Well, if you fall I'll make sure to catch you," she promised. He raised an eyebrow. "I'm a lot stronger than I look."

She moved from no longer sitting on the ground but to crouching beside him, watching him carefully as he bent his legs, planting his feet on the ground and using his hands on the floor to push himself up. She was beside him instantly, her hands gently grasping his suit covered wrists and helping to steady him when he had a little wobble once he'd gotten to his feet.

"Maybe we should sit you down instead," she suggested and he didn't stop her when her hands released his wrists and she brought one up to his shoulder, gently guiding him backwards until he felt his calves hitting a slab of stone and he sat down.

He squeezed his eyes shut and brought his head down to rest in his palms, bending over and bowing his head.

"Here,"

He opened his eyes to see the water bottle he'd seen earlier and he lifted his head slightly to look at her, seeing her crouching down in front of him.

"Well, it's been a while since someone's been afraid of catching my cooties," she said amused. "Not to worry, I only bought this because the shop owner wouldn't let me use the bathroom unless I purchased something, so it hasn't been anywhere near my mouth."

He frowned but shook his head and reached out, accepting the bottle from her, bringing it to his mouth. The water was still cool which he thought a little odd, especially given the unnatural heat they were experiencing, but then he supposed she must've bought it not long before helping him. He admitted that he did feel a little better and the water had been refreshing.

"You keep hold of that, just in case," she said after he'd tried to hand it back to her, though he supposed she had no use for it now. "I really think we should get you to a hospital," she spoke.

"I'll be fine," he said. "I'm already feeling better, a few more minutes and I should be back on my feet." She didn't look convinced but she otherwise nodded.

Unfortunately for him, loud sirens sounded not too far away.

"Oh, that's a bit of bad luck," she said. "Are you feeling up to it?"

He lifted his head and gave her a small smile. "Have to be," he replied.

She smiled at him, beamed really and he felt himself gulp at how beautiful she looked with her perfect white smile, her little dimples and the sun shining down on her.

"Well, off you go, Mr. Spider-man," she said brightly. "Go be a superhero, just be careful you don't make your head injury worse, and don't fall asleep for at least a few hours."

He nodded before searching for his mask, remembering that he'd been the one to pull it off before he passed out. He spied it across the other side of the rooftop and rather than walking over to it, he lifted his hand and shot out some webbing, pulling it over to him and catching it in his hand.

"Show off," she teased and he found himself smiling at her.

She rose to her full height and he noted that while she wasn't small compared to other girls he'd seen, -her probably being average height- she was definitely smaller than his own height of just being under six-foot.

He walked over to the edge of the roof and climbed up, turning to look back at her, his mouth opening but no sound leaving him.

"I get it, secret identity," she nodded. "I won't tell anyone, not that I have anyone to tell that is. I'm the new girl with no friends. I doubt we'll see each other again given the population and your superhero schedule, so, thank you. Thank you for being what this world needs. Thank you for standing up and taking care of those that can't."

He felt his stomach twist and turn at her words, his face heating up at the soft look held in her eyes, the way the sun shone on her face and the wind tousled her hair.

He took a deep breath. "Thank you for helping me."

She smiled. "I only did what anyone else would've," she replied. "As it is, it's nice to be able to repay you for all the good you do."

"They wouldn't have, probably be too busy taking pictures and tweeting about the kid under the mask," he said.

"You are a little younger than I expected you to be," she admitted. "But if you're a hero, you're a hero," she said, her smile faltering a little.

"You're the nicest person I've ever met," he commented.

She smiled, it brighter this time and she laughed at him. "You haven't seen me when I'm mad, I've been told I'm quite terrifying."

"I don't believe that," he said, his gaze locked on hers. "Don't let this place change you," he said, gesturing to nothing in particular.

The sirens grew louder and he turned to look off into the distance.

"Off you go, I'm sure they could do with your help."

He looked back at her once more, before pulling his mask on over his head, hiding his face from view.

"Thank you," he said, before he propelled himself off the building, shooting out a web and swinging his way towards the sirens.

~000~000~000~

A week later found Peter wandering down the street and towards his favourite deli, Delmar's, for his usual after-school snack.

As he walked, absentmindedly moving this way and that to dodge the foot traffic and avoid walking into people; his mind wandered to the girl who'd helped him.

It'd been a week since the incident and his Aunt May hadn't been happy see to his scuffed jaw when he'd finally gotten home that Friday evening, but it had already started healing by that point. He hadn't told her about the kind girl who'd taken care of him during his vulnerability, not wanting her to worry about another person knowing his identity and being able to reveal it to the world. But not only did she not know his name, he believed her when she'd promised she'd keep it to herself. He got the feeling that she wasn't a liar.

And despite a week having past, he hadn't been able to stop thinking about the beautiful girl who'd shown him kindness, who'd been grateful for all that he did. It wasn't often someone thanked him for saving them and even still, he hadn't been the one to help her, it'd been the other way around. He tried to forget about her knowing he'd likely never see her again, but he couldn't. She was just too memorable to him. It wasn't just her beauty, it was her kindness, it was the strange sense he got from her, her seeming to feel different but not at the same time.

He often found his thoughts wandering to her when he was in class, eating lunch, doing homework, walking down the street, even when he was chasing after criminals. He wondered where she was, how she was finding her move to New York, how she was doing, what she was doing. He honestly did try to forget about her and he'd found himself in detention for being late to class after being caught up in his thoughts, but he just couldn't seem to forget her.

Sighing, he crossed the street and stepped onto the sidewalk, at the same time as someone took a step back, standing on his foot and bumping into him.

A feminine gasp sounded and the scent of vanilla invaded his nose as the wind blew her hair into his face.

"Oh, I'm ever so sorry," she said, and he found himself freezing. He knew that accent.

She turned around to face him, her eyes widening and the apologetic look leaving her face and being replaced with surprise. They stared at each other silently before she shook her head and a smile pulled at her mouth.

"Well, if it isn't Mr. Superhero," she smiled. "I never thought I'd see you again, but I'm not going to lie, you look very different without your suit," she said.

He looked down at himself, seeing his sneakers, denim jeans and hoody with his backpack slung over his shoulder. He supposed she was right; he did look different when wearing the suit.

"I'm terribly sorry, I didn't see you," she said, ducking her head sheepishly.

"You've apologised already," he said, slipping his hands into his pockets, being both nervous and surprised that he was seeing her again. What were the chances of that happening in a city as big as New York?

"Oh, sorry, British thing," she smiled and he chuckled at her. "I take it you're feeling better? Your jaw certainly looks it," she said in surprise, obviously seeing there wasn't a mark in sight.

"Thanks to you," he nodded. "If you don't mind me asking, what are you doing?"

"Oh, right," she shook her head, pushing her curls out of her face. "I'm afraid to say, I'm lost," she said guiltily.

She gave the map in her hand a little shake, bringing notice to it. He hadn't seen it before, but now that he looked down at her, he saw her wearing black ankle boots with dark jeans and it was completed with a plaid shirt and a jacket over the top.

"I've always been a bit rubbish at map reading, but it seems this one's more confusing than usual," she said.

He chuckled at her, removing his hands from his pockets to readjust the strap of his backpack.

"Where are you tryna get to?" He asked.

"Well, my neighbour said there's a lovely bakery somewhere near here, but didn't specify where so I'm just wandering around like a lost puppy," she said and his mouth twitched in amusement. "But I need to find a butcher's, too."

"I know where you mean, do you want me to show you?" He asked politely.

She smiled and shook her head. "Oh, I wouldn't want to take time out of your superhero schedule."

"Well, it's my job to help others, isn't it? By helping you I'm just doing my service to the city."

Her mouth twitched. "I suppose you are, nicely played," she responded. "Well, if you're not too busy I'd be grateful for your help."

"Alright then, just follow me, you're not actually that far off," he said, stepping around a couple making out by a street light and she did the same, falling into step beside him. "So, how are you finding New York?" He asked.

"It's definitely different from home, but at the same time, it's so similar. The people, or the majority of them, I've noticed are just as rude. I've asked several people for directions and they either ignored me or gave me the finger, except for that group of boys who were quite vulgar with their words and actions towards me."

He frowned. "I'm sorry about that."

"Don't be, you can't control the actions of others and trust me, it doesn't reflect badly on you. Besides my neighbour, a lovely old lady, you're one of the few people to have shown me kindness," she smiled.

He cleared his throat. "So, where was home for you?" She raised an eyebrow. "I didn't want to just assume it was London. I know it's the most popular city and usually, the first one someone thinks of when they hear a British accent, but I'm educated enough to know London isn't the only British town or city."

She beamed at him, her eyes bright and her dimples making an appearance. "Well, that's very thoughtful of you not to assume, but I'm sad to say, I am from London. My friends from school, however, came from all over Britain. One was from Manchester which is an English city, one was from Brighton which is a seaside town and some were from Devon which is a county. I suppose you're right about assumptions, most don't seem to realise that not every Brit is from London, and of course, we all have our own lingo and accents depending on where you're from in Britain. Those from the North East tend to be a little harder to understand," she explained.

"And your accent?"

"If you're from London, you're a Cockney," she said, her mouth twitching when she saw his eyebrows rise in surprise at the term. "And you?"

"New Yorker,"

"Oh, I'm a little disappointed, that's not very creative," she frowned slightly and he chuckled at her.

"And Brits are?" He asked.

"I'd say so; if you're from Liverpool you're a Scouser, Newcastle a Geordie, Sunderland a Mackem and Birmingham a Brummie."

He blinked slowly before laughing, shaking his head. "I didn't understand half of what you just said but yeah, you Brits are definitely more creative."

"I'll take the compliment and run with it before you impart far better nicknames for regions in America," she replied. "Oh, is this it?" She asked, coming to a stop in front of the butchers and being jostled as someone bumped into her. He couldn't stop the scowl that he trained on the retreating back of the businessman.

"Sure is, and the bakery's across the street," he pointed out, it being directly opposite them.

"Well, thank you, you're a lifesaver. Well, I know you are, but still, you get what I mean," she said, making for the door.

"Do you want me to come in with you?" He asked. She raised an eyebrow and looked to the door questioningly. "Just to make sure they don't try to take advantage of you, my Aunt comes here quite a lot and they're known to try and swindle more money out of tourists," he said.

In reality, he just wanted an excuse to spend a little more time talking to her. He didn't know why, because their conversation hadn't been particularly interesting or important, but there was something about her. Something he needed to understand and he was hoping the longer he was able to stay close to her, the easier it would be for him to figure out what it was that made her feel so different.

"Erm, alright," she said.

She made for the door again but he smoothly moved past her and held it open for her. He received a smile in reply and he stood beside her whilst she ordered her items, and while most of it was normal, he did give her a second glance when she asked for chicken's feet and pig's eyeballs, but he didn't comment; to each their own, he thought.

With her bags in hand, they left out the door and crossed the street, him taking note that she ordered more chocolate cupcakes than she did vanilla, that she chose both chocolate chip and oatmeal cookies, and she inquired about having a birthday cake made. He looked to her curiously but she didn't specify who it was for. They left the bakery, coming to a stop on the sidewalk.

"Well, I truly appreciate your help, I would've just stood there all day before giving up and going home, and I wouldn't be surprised if I got lost doing that, too. I thought London was confusing but you take the trophy," she said and he chuckled at her. "I hope I didn't derail your plans too much."

In all honesty, they'd travelled in the opposite direction to where he'd wanted to be and he was starving, but he didn't regret helping her. It'd taken no more than twenty minutes and he'd gotten to see her again, and now that he knew a little more about her, he hoped that would cure his need to solve the mystery that was her, and that she'd no longer fill his thoughts and he could get on with his life.

"You didn't," he said. "Say, are you hungry?" She raised an eyebrow. "I just know this great deli that I usually visit after school, I thought about heading that way before going home."

She looked at him curiously but otherwise nodded. "I'm not going to lie, I'm starving, I haven't eaten since breakfast."

He frowned as he started walking back in the direction of Delmar's. "You shouldn't skip meals," he scolded.

She smiled, though not as bright and her eyes seemed to tighten again. "I didn't do it on purpose," she told him. "I left my home this morning and after running a few errands, I got lost and spent the rest of my time trying to find the butchers and bakery. And I tend to be a little cautious about where and what I eat. You've got a few foods here that I'm apprehensive about eating and I wasn't sure which food establishments were well reviewed and which were dodgy and could give me food poisoning."

He chuckled, seeing her point. "Well, I promise you'll love Delmar's," he replied.

"I'm trusting you with this," she said, her mouth pulling into a smile. "Don't be letting me down, or I might have to tell the world Spider-man has awful taste in food," she teased.

"Please don't," he pleaded jokingly. "They'll lose all respect for me and never let me help another defenceless old lady again."

"If it were me, I'd lock you up and throw away the key, it's criminal," she replied and he laughed at her, crossing the street once more and stepping around a parked car at the side of the road. "So, school? Just how old are you?" She asked.

He stuffed his hands in his pockets and swallowed. Should he tell her? But then he couldn't see the harm in it, not really when she knew his face and his alter-ego.

"Seventeen," he answered.

"Bloody hell," she said in surprise, before shaking her head, a fond look crossing her face as she looked off into the distance, making him curious as to what she was thinking about. "It must be difficult to manage school and be a superhero," she mused.

He shrugged his shoulders. "I manage; my Aunt makes sure I don't fall behind on homework."

"She knows?" She asked and he nodded. "That's good to hear, it's always nice to have someone fighting in your corner, someone that's there to take care of you and keep you on track."

"So, hold old are you?" He asked.

"How old do you think I am?" She responded.

He had to be very careful here. He remembered what his Aunt had told him about women and their ages. If he said the wrong thing he could offend her, but he honestly didn't believe she was older than she looked.

"My age?" He guessed.

"Near enough," she smiled. "I'm eighteen."

"Did you move here with your parents?" He asked.

"No," she responded, sadness in her tone and when he looked down at her, he saw pain flicker through her eyes before it was gone. "They erm...They died last year, and I have no siblings, it's just me."

"I'm sorry to hear that," he said softly, knowing the pain of losing your parents as he'd been through it himself. She smiled sadly. "If you don't mind me asking, how did they die?"

"I don't like to talk about it," she said quietly.

"I won't pry," he promised. That response had him curious but he was respectful enough to back off. If she didn't want to tell him it was likely something awful, but then again, he was technically just a stranger to her. "I'm Peter, by the way," he blurted out.

She looked up at him in surprise, likely realising that she hadn't yet learned his name.

"Well, Peter, it's nice to officially meet you, and in case you don't remember, I'm Hermione," she smiled.

He'd remembered; it wasn't a name you heard often.

When he saw Delmar's up ahead he pointed it out to her and as he had before, he held the door open for her and followed her in, watching as she took in her surroundings.

"You didn't tell me this was a grocery store," she said.

"Was I supposed to?" He asked confused.

"No, just as it happens I need a few things. I'd planned on getting them on the way home but I suppose you've just saved me the trip. You go ahead and get your food; I'll be right behind you."

Despite her words, he didn't leave her and followed her around the store, even helping to carry a few of her items. He took it as an opportunity to examine her a little closer, seeing the way she frowned slightly when looking at a product she didn't recognise, seeing the way she nibbled at her lip as she chose between two different brands of the same product, the way her nose scrunched up as she picked up a food item and put it back, deciding she definitely didn't want it, or the way her eyes focused as she looked over prices and descriptions.

When she'd finished he took note that she'd selected items that were in the mid-price range, so she wasn't exactly poor, but not exactly wealthy either, and he noted that she'd purchased some bread, eggs, a bottle of ketchup, some candy bars and some canned fruit and he helped her carry them to the counter and he received a look of surprise from Delmar but he shook his head, letting him know not to ask and he curiously took the items and rang up the sales as he packed them away for her.

"I haven't seen you 'round here before," he said and Peter rolled his eyes, but leaned against the counter.

She smiled at him. "I've recently moved to the area," she replied.

Delmar look surprised by her accent but shook his head. "I see you know Peter," he commented.

"He saw me looking like a lost little puppy and took pity on me when no one else would."

"I'm sorry to say we're not the nicest bunch, especially when we're in a rush," he said.

"Peter more than made up for it with his kindness," she said, sending him a smile and he felt his face heat up when Delmar looked to him also, an amused smile tugging at his mouth. She took the bags from the counter and set them on the floor and Delmar looked to him.

"The usual," he said knowingly.

"Yep," he nodded and then he looked to Hermione expectantly. She looked a little overwhelmed as she looked up at the menu on the wall, likely not knowing what half of the items were. "Make that two," he corrected and she looked to him. "Trust me?"

"I barely know you," she replied. "But if this is awful, remember my promise," she said and his mouth twitched in amusement.

He offered to pay for hers and she outright refused, before they both left with their sandwiches and her arms laden with shopping bags, which he offered to help carry but she turned him down on that, too.

"I suppose this is goodbye," she said, him noting that their bodies were facing in the opposite direction.

"I guess it is," he nodded.

"Right, well, thank you again for all your help, you truly have been a lifesaver," she smiled. "I doubt we'll see each other again, after all, what are the chances?" She chuckled. "Look after yourself, Mr. Superhero," she said, as she turned and crossed the street, not looking back.

~000~000~000~

Two weeks past and he honestly didn't know what was wrong with him. He'd thought that since he'd learned more information about the girl who'd helped him and he'd finally had the chance to repay the favour, that he'd no longer think her a mystery to solve, that he'd no longer think about her and he'd be able to focus, but he was wrong.

It seemed to have gotten worse as now, he was dreaming about her!

He wouldn't be as alarmed if the dreams were sexual in nature; after all, she was a pretty girl and he a hormonal teenage boy. But they weren't! They were completely innocent and that's what worried him. In his dreams they'd be up on the rooftop or walking down the street together, just talking and laughing, him having the opportunity to learn more about her. He knew Ned had started watching him closely, being worried about him, but Peter had just told him it was superhero stuff that was weighing on his mind and thankfully Ned had believed him, but that didn't stop him from keeping an eye on him when they were at school.

He knew the chances of them meeting again were slim, especially given the two-plus million people that resided in Queens and he'd already met her twice. He didn't believe in fate.

But then maybe he should.

It was getting late and he was doing a final few laps throughout the neighbourhood before he headed home and climbed into bed, needing to get some sleep for school in the morning. As he swung past an alleyway and turned onto another street, he automatically jumped from his web and onto the side of a building, his eyes locking instantly on the woman walking down the street.

Even in the darkness and being several buildings away, he'd recognised those wild curls and the way they swung a little as she walked anywhere. He could hear her humming to herself, a tune he didn't recognise, but she didn't appear to be listening to music so she was aware of her surroundings and not as open to an attack. Still, he didn't like the idea of the girl that showed him kindness walking down a dark street by herself, especially when there were far too many alleyways for his liking.

He couldn't have stopped himself even if he'd wanted to and he soon found himself shooting out some webbing and following after her, hiding out in the shadows so she wouldn't see him. He followed her for several blocks without issue and just when he was about to talk himself into letting her go along without his watchful eye, his hearing picked up on several voices and the hairs on the back of his neck seemed to stand on end when he realised they were drunk.

He sped up his movements to get closer to her as he knew there was a bar a little further up ahead and she was approaching it and he really didn't like the way his heart pounded in his chest and a tingle went down his spine.

The group of men he'd heard made an appearance, stumbling out from a dodgy looking building, putting them right in her path and before he knew it, the catcalls and whistling started. She froze in place, her humming stopping and he saw the way her shoulders tensed and her hands clenched into fists, but she shook her head and kept on walking, straight past them.

He felt the blood rushing to his brain, his breathing picking up and his head pounding as he saw them following after her, but she didn't respond. She didn't speak, she didn't freak out and she didn't run; she just kept on walking down the street.

He saw one of the men speed up in his steps and Peter really didn't like where this was heading and without thought, he fired some webbing and swung around until he was no longer behind them, but in front of them, and he was approaching her face on. He moved so quickly that she hadn't seen him coming and before he knew it, he'd swooped down, his arm wrapping around her waist and holding her tightly against his body as her feet left the ground and he carried her away with him.

She let out a shriek of surprise that was muffled when she pressed her face into his chest and her arms wrapped around him, holding onto him for dear life as though she were afraid he'd drop her, but with his strength, she barely weighed the same as a pebble. A second shriek sounded from her, this one louder than the last, when he let go of the webbing and was free falling until he latched onto a building and swung around.

It would've been easier to use two hands but with one arm wrapped around her and holding her to him in hopes she'd be less frightened, he had to make do with just one web-slinging and swinging arm.

Seeing an empty rooftop and feeling her shaking against him, he quickly made his way towards it, noting that with the wind blowing against them her scent of vanilla invaded his nose. He landed on his feet smoothly and released his hold on the webbing, the arm holding her to him smoothed over her back, once, twice, before settling on her waist and giving her a gentle squeeze with his suit covered fingertips, and it seemed to bring her back to reality.

Her arms released from around his neck and she sprang back, her body no longer being pressed against his but several feet apart. He frowned, realising that he missed it a little bit. His eyes watched her carefully, seeing her shaking form as she leaned over, her head bowed, her hands on her knees and she breathed deeply.

"Jesus Bloody Christ!" She cursed and his eyes widened a fraction. "A little warning would've been nice," she said, finally lifting her head and she stared at him, her eyes wide and brimming with tears.

Hell! He hadn't meant to scare her. And that's when he remembered she'd told him she was terrified of heights. He just hadn't realised how bad a case it was.

"I'm sorry," he said, reaching up to remove his mask as really, there was no point in keeping it on as she already knew who he was. "I didn't mean to frighten you," he said sincerely and keeping his eyes open so she could see he meant it.

His Aunt always said he had expressive eyes and he was hoping that wasn't going to let him down this evening, and thankfully it didn't, as she slowly nodded as she released a huge breath. She stood up, her body still shaking and her skin had flushed pink, a light sheen of sweat shining on her forehead. She turned and headed for the bench where he could see several cigarette butts being on the ground beside it, and she sat herself down and he moved to sit beside her.

"I suppose I should say thank you," she said. "Trust me when I say, I'm not as defenceless as I look, but even I would've struggled with that many opponents, so your help was much appreciated."

"You're welcome," he responded, wondering what she'd meant about not being defenceless. Did she carry a weapon? Did she know a form of martial arts? Was it both? Was it neither? Did she mean something else entirely? He didn't know but he wanted to.

"So, am I to believe our meeting is just a coincidence?" She asked.

"I'd like to think so, but I don't believe in coincidences," he replied.

"No? Me either," she admitted. "Though it is a little strange this is our third time meeting without having any pre-arranged plans."

"I just happened to be swinging by," he replied and she laughed at his wordplay, pulling a smile from him. "I was just doing a final few laps about the neighbourhood before I headed home."

"Oh, I suppose it's a school night," she nodded. "Well then, you should probably get going, I've no doubt you need your rest."

"Ten more minutes won't kill me," he said, dropping his elbows to rest against his knees and clasping his hands together with his mask held between them.

"I'm fine, you don't have to worry about me, I've faced much worse things than a few drunken men."

"Like?" He asked.

"Terrorists," she replied with a straight face.

He stared at her before he started laughing, shaking his head. "I almost believed you," he chuckled and she gave him one of those less easy and tight eyed smiles he'd seen from her before.

"Seriously, I'm fine, you should get yourself home."

"How was the sandwich?" He asked, ignoring her words.

She rolled her eyes but she did answer. "You'll be glad to know your reputation will not be affected, but I feel I should tell you, it tastes a lot better when you add salt and vinegar crisps."

"Huh?"

"Right, sorry, the language barrier can be a bit of a pain sometimes," she shook her head slightly. "I believe you call then chips."

"You put chips in a sandwich?"

"Yes, and you should try it. In my opinion, cheese and onion are the best."

"So just butter some bread and fill it with chips?" He asked, finding it difficult to actually process what she was saying because it sounded so strange to him.

"That's it, and if you really want to have your mind blown, do it with fries, and now that I'm thinking about it, I might just have a chip butty when I get home. It's not even been a month and I already miss my British foods."

"Is that all you miss, the food? It must be hard for you moving somewhere that's so different than what you're used to."

"I don't just miss the food, I suppose I miss everything really. The rubbish weather, the lingo and jargon, my friends, I even miss the monetary system. It's taking me a little longer than usual to get used to the currency difference and the fact that I have to work out the VAT and tipping before I even buy something, back in Britain it's already done for you so the price on an item is what you pay at the till. I didn't know where to look when I took my chances on a diner and the waitress had to help me understand the nonincluded VAT, but she definitely earned her tip."

"I guess I never thought of it being confusing," he commented. "For me, it's always been that way."

She tilted her head and turned to look at him. "Ten minutes is over," she said.

He frowned slightly but nodded. "Do you want me to take you home?"

Her mouth pulled into a smile. "So you know where I live for future reference?" She teased. "No, thank you, I'll be fine."

"After what nearly happened, I don't feel comfortable in letting you walk home by yourself," he said.

"I'll get a taxi, don't worry about me. You better go; I'm sure you have someone at home waiting for you."

"My Aunt," he nodded. "Are you sure I can't take you home?"

She stood from the bench and he mimicked her actions.

"No, thank you," she said. "If I'm being honest, I'm not a big fan of the..." She lifted her hands and motioned swinging about on webs and he chuckled at her. "I'll be fine, so off you go. And this time I'm not going to comment about maybe running into you again, because the way we've been going so far, it's likely we might."

"I hope we do," he found himself saying, there being no filter between his brain and his mouth and she looked surprised by his words.

Feeling a little embarrassed, he slipped on his mask and hopped up onto the ledge before throwing himself off and swinging away. When he heard a sharp 'crack', he jumped onto the side of a building and turned to look behind him, being surprised when he saw the rooftop completely empty.

His eyes darted about in search of her on the street as well as the ladder on the side of the building, but he couldn't see her. He waited a few minutes in case she'd gone through the building and would exit out the door, but she never appeared. It was like she'd just disappeared.

"What the hell?" He muttered.

~000~000~000~

It was two weeks after he'd helped her escape from the clutches of some drunken men when he saw her on the street again.

His thoughts still seemed to be obsessed with her and since she'd disappeared from the rooftop without him seeing or without any explanation, his mind was in overdrive. He'd been hoping he'd bump into her again as he found that he enjoyed speaking with her no matter how trivial or strange a conversation it was.

She didn't treat him like a superhero, she didn't get flustered and excited like he'd seen others do when he was doing his patrols of the neighbourhood or helping to fight criminals. And whilst it was nice to be appreciated, he didn't become Spider-man for the fame and the glory. He did it because he felt it was the right thing to do, he did it because he had abilities that could make a difference to people's lives and it would be selfish to keep that to himself.

And Hermione, she didn't seem to care about his alter-ego, well not in that way. She spoke to him the same way whether he was in or out of the suit, she'd kept his secret as there'd been no news articles revealing his identity and she didn't seem to be intimidated by him or his job on the side.

He'd missed being able to talk to someone who didn't get flustered about knowing his secret. With Ned, it was sometimes a little difficult because although he was his best friend, he did have a tendency to get overexcited about his alter-ego and the friends he kept. With his Aunt, she was proud and she worried, but other than making sure he was keeping himself safe, she didn't tend to pry.

So when he happened to see her on a Saturday afternoon, he was pleased they'd managed to run into each other again, and by this point, he'd stopped trying to understand how and why they seemed to do so.

He'd not long since finished running some errands for his Aunt May and after dropping the groceries off at home, he had the afternoon to himself. With it being an unnaturally sunny day, he'd decided to do a few patrols of the neighbourhood and then take a walk, but when he'd spotted her from his place sat on the edge of a rooftop, he decided he'd done enough patrols for the day and slipped into the shadows to change back into his jeans, sneakers and t-shirt.

He was stood on the opposite side of the street, seeing her waiting in line at a food truck. She was dressed differently to how he'd seen her previously. Now she wore a pair of white converse on her feet, a pretty floral patterned sundress that fell to her mid-thigh and she wore a light blue cropped cardigan over the top with her hair left to flow down her back and glittery pins keeping her hair back from her face, and a strange looking purse hung from her shoulder. Even across the street he could smell the vanilla scent he'd come to associate with her, and as she stood waiting in line she hummed to herself and her body rocked from side to side slightly.

Taking a breath and reigning in his nerves –why was he nervous? - He crossed the street and came to a stop beside her in the line.

He saw her entire body tense as she slowly turned to look at him, before looking away and then looking back to him with wide eyes, her body relaxing and she let out a puff of air, realising who he was.

"Bloody hell," she cursed, her shoulders slumping. "You scared the hell out of me," she said and his mouth twitched in amusement.

"Sorry," he replied, readjusting his backpack on his shoulder and then slipping his hands into his pockets.

"Tell your face that," she said.

His mouth pulled into a smile. "What are you doing?"

"Food," she pointed in front of her. "I'm starving and thought I might as well put my big girl pants on and start trying new foods."

"Glad to hear that, unfortunately, I wouldn't start here."

She frowned. "Why not?"

He leaned in closer so those in front of them and those behind them wouldn't hear as he said, "It's known for using dodgy ingredients."

A grimace pulled at her face. "Fantastic," she sighed. "Well, my decision to take a chance and try something new is off to a great start."

He chuckled at her. "You know, I tried that thing you told me about, the chips in bread."

"And?"

"Not bad," he admitted and her mouth pulled into a smile.

"Told you so, now you just have to try it with fries, it's heaven on a plate. And considering I don't want to get food poisoning and you didn't lead me astray last time, any idea where I can get some food?"

"You ever had a corn dog?"

"What the hell's a corn dog?" She asked, looking confused.

He chuckled at her before he reached out, his hand gently encircling her wrist and he gave her a slight tug, pulling her out of her place in line. She didn't seem to mind him touching her but not wanting to push his luck, he released his hold on her and she fell into step beside him as they walked away.

"Shouldn't we tell the others about the dodgy food?"

"They're New Yorkers, they're used to it," he shrugged. "Besides, I don't care about them."

"But you do me?" She asked, her eyebrow cocked and looking at him questioningly.

Maybe he did, maybe he didn't. There was just something about her, something that seemed to pull him in and refused to release him.

Her question went unanswered as they walked in silence, but it wasn't awkward or tense, it actually felt quite comfortable. When they reached the corn dog stand he usually visited and they paid for their purchases, they walked off down the street, him watching her carefully for her reaction as she took her first bite. She chewed slowly and thoughtfully before wiping her mouth with the napkin in her hand despite not having made any mess.

"It's basically just a battered, fried sausage on a stick," she said, looking up at him.

"Pretty much," he nodded.

"Well, I'm not too fussed on sausages, fried at least, but this isn't too bad," she said, pointing her corn dog at him and then taking another bite.

They continued walking in companionable silence with no specific destination in mind until he spotted an ice-cream parlour up ahead and given that the hot sun was beaming down on them as they walked, he thought ice-cream might be a good idea.

"You want ice-cream?" He asked, gesturing just up ahead.

"Sure, what kind of person would I be if I turned down ice-cream when it was offered to me?"

Stepping into the building, he wasn't surprised to see that it was busy, mainly with families and young children. She ordered plain vanilla and he was going to comment until he saw what she did after. She split her ice-cream into quarters and in each section, she placed a different topping, one sprinkles, one nuts, one raspberry sauce and one chocolate sauce and she looked amused at his expression.

They managed to find themselves a little table in the back corner of the building and they sat opposite each other with her putting her back to the corner. He noted that her eyes scanned the room and its occupants before they returned to him and she picked up her spoon and slowly started to work on her ice-cream.

"So, I know you said you have no siblings and that your parents..." He cleared his throat, "Well, you know, but don't you have any other family?"

"No, it's just me," she shook her head.

"What school do you go to?" He asked curiously.

"I don't," she said and he frowned a little. "After everything that happened last year, I took my final exams out of school. I graduated almost a year ago."

That was interesting, he thought.

"Why did you move to New York?"

"Partially for a change, partially for a new job opportunity that I couldn't turn down."

"And what's that?"

"I can't tell you," she said. He raised an eyebrow. She leaned forward and he mimicked her actions until there was little space between them. "It's a secret," she whispered, before sitting back in her chair and spooning some ice-cream into her mouth.

"You know my secret," he pointed out.

Her mouth twitched. "Mine's bigger."

He sat back in his chair, crossing his arms over his chest and watching her closely, his own mouth twitching into a smile when she smirked at him. They sat in silence, just watching each other until it was disturbed by a beeping sound.

She startled in her seat before releasing a breath and he watched as her hands disappeared beneath the table and he heard her searching through her purse. She pulled back, him being both curious and surprised when he recognised that the device she held in her hand was a pager.

Who still used pagers?

Her brow creased and her lips pursed before she let out a sigh and looked up to him.

"I'm sorry to say, I have to go, I've been summoned."

"By?"

"Nice try," she smirked, standing from her chair and he found himself doing the same. "Well, as always, it was a pleasure seeing you. I won't bother pretending like we won't see each other again because we both know we just might. Thank you for not allowing me to get food poisoning, and be careful Mr. Superhero," she said, giving him a smile, picking up her rubbish and putting it in the trash can as she left out the building, his eyes following her the entire time.

~000~000~000~

A week after the ice-cream parlour and on a Sunday afternoon found Peter walking through the park, on his way to finish the last of his errands for his Aunt. The weather wasn't as nice as it had been the previous week but it was by no means cold and he wasn't surprised to see the park filled with families having picnics, children playing and dogs chasing after balls and sticks that were thrown for them.

He'd like to say it was by accident that he'd seen her, but it wasn't. He'd just known she was there. Even before his eyes had spotted her he'd felt she was nearby. The more time he spent around her, the more familiar she was to him. Knowing she was nearby, he let his eyes search his surroundings, looking for her in particular and he spotted her across the park and she was by herself.

He made the journey over to her and stopped beside her, seeing that she was laid on the ground on her back, her hands clasped on top of her stomach and covering the plaid shirt she wore. Black denim covered her legs which were stretched out and on her feet she wore black boots which came up to her knees, hiding her ankles that were crossed. Her wild curls were left free and her eyes were closed, her breathing even and deep. She almost looked as though she were sleeping but he could hear that her heartbeat was a little too fast for her to be sleeping.

"We really must stop meeting like this," she said.

He startled a little and blinked slowly. "How'd you know it was me?" He asked surprised.

Her eyes slowly opened and she turned her head to look at him, her eyes locking on his and her mouth pulled into a small, sleepy smile. Maybe she had been dozing off, in which case, it was a good job he'd seen her before someone had tried to take advantage of her.

"It's a secret," she said. He rolled his eyes but stuffed his hands in his pockets. "Are you going to stand there all day?" She asked, turning to look up at the sky.

Shifting on his feet, he removed his hands from his pockets, shrugged his backpack onto the floor and lowered himself onto the ground beside her, laying down and mimicking her current position.

"What are you doing here today?"

"Relaxing,"

"You were falling asleep," he replied.

"Probably, I'm tired," she sighed.

He turned his head to look at her, seeing that she'd closed her eyes again. "Is this a work thing?"

"Sure is," she said quietly and now that he listened carefully, she did sound tired. "I had a twelve hour night shift, only got off about an hour ago and some of the patients weren't in a cooperating mood."

Patients?

"Are you a med student?"

"You could say that,"

"Doctor or nurse?"

"Neither, both," she said.

"I'm confused," he frowned. Didn't she say she wasn't a doctor the day they'd met?

She turned her head to the side and he did the same, getting caught in her big brown eyes when they fluttered open. "Good, I like confusing you," she admitted, her mouth tugging into a smile. "So, what's Mr. Superhero doing in the park on a Sunday afternoon?" She asked, turning to look back up at the sky.

He shifted to get more comfortable, one leg bending at the knee and his foot planted against the ground as the other leg remained stretched out, his arm came up to cushion the back of his head and his other fell from his stomach and to the ground between them. They were so close their shoulders were touching.

"Doing some errands for my Aunt," he answered.

"Should you not be doing that instead of being here with me?"

"I'd rather be here," he said, his face reddening as he hadn't meant to say those words aloud, so he continued quickly before she could comment. "She'll probably think I've been distracted with Spider-man duties. As long as I'm home before it gets late or I call her to let her know I'm going to be late, she's fine."

"Have you had any Spider-man duties today?" She asked curiously.

"Yeah, a cat stuck in a tree, a mugger that stole an old lady's purse, an attempted robbery of a jewellery store and a dog stuck down a manhole."

"You've had a busy morning," she commented. "And here I am complaining about being tired."

"You didn't complain and you worked a twelve-hour shift and have yet to sleep, I slept eight hours and was prepared for today. Friday through to Sunday is usually a little busier than the rest of the week."

"You get any injuries?"

"I'm good," he replied.

"If you don't mind me asking..." He turned his head to look at her and she did the same, their gazes locking. "I've noticed that you only seem to mention your Aunt."

"She's my guardian, my parents died when I was a kid."

Her eyes filled with sadness and understanding. "I'm sorry to hear that," she said, like he had to her all those weeks ago. "It sucks, doesn't it?"

"It definitely sucks," he agreed and her mouth pulled into a small smile. "Don't get me wrong, I love my Aunt and I'm grateful for everything she's done and she's great, but..."

"But she's not your parents," she spoke softly. "I get it," she said, her hand coming down from her stomach and it slipped into his, giving him a gentle squeeze.

He noticed that it was a little cold and when she tried to pull it back, he gripped it tighter, refusing to let go. It felt comforting to have her hand in his and she didn't say anything so he took that as a bonus.

"Do you know why I became Spider-man?"

"If I did I'd be worried," she replied.

He snorted but shook his head. "My Uncle Ben was murdered a couple of years ago. He's the reason I help people."

Her eyes closed and she breathed deeply before they fluttered open and caught his gaze once more.

"My parents were murdered," she whispered.

His hand automatically tightened around hers but she didn't bring notice to it. It seemed they were more alike than he'd realised.

"Why do bad things happen to good people?"

She sighed. "I've no idea, maybe it's to test us, to see how we'd cope with such a travesty, maybe it's to make us better. After all, you became Spider-man and I... I can't tell you what I do, but I help people, too," she said.

Her eyes closed and her head tilted forward a little and without thought, he tilted his own head until their foreheads gently touched and he closed his eyes, too.

"Us orphans have to stick together," she said softly. "And I can't imagine how difficult it is for you to be Spider-man and if you don't wish to talk to your Aunt about it, then I'm here for you."

"That goes both ways, whatever secrets you're keeping, if you want to tell me I'll listen, or if you want to talk but out of context, I'm still here," he said, opening his eyes to see that hers were still closed. "Does this make us friends?"

"I thought we already were."

His mouth pulled into a smile and he let out a relaxing breath, allowing his eyes to close shut once more as her scent of vanilla surrounded him comfortingly. He realised he could very easily fall asleep in the middle of a park surrounded by people, with her hand clasped in his and her laying beside him.

He startled when his hearing picked up on the sounds of sirens and he let out a sigh before his eyes opened, getting caught in her gaze.

"Off you go, Spider-man, you're needed," she said softly with a smile.

She sat herself up and removed her hand from his, pulling herself to her feet and brushing her clothing down. He stood up and grabbed his backpack, throwing it over his shoulder and he looked down at her.

"You need to go, I'm going to head home anyway. I need sleep and I've got another shift this evening."

"Take care of yourself," he told her.

"That's what I'm supposed to say to you," she smiled. "I'll see you when I see you," she said, turning and walking away from him.

He watched her go before he turned and ran in the opposite direction.

~000~000~000~

It was three days later and nearing ten o'clock as he made his way home. He knew he had to be quick or he'd miss curfew and his Aunt wouldn't be happy, so he made it a point to take every short cut he knew. But that meant he had to pass the park and surprisingly for him, his hearing picked up on the sound of sniffles and the breeze blew the scent of vanilla straight over to him.

All thoughts of going home were forgotten and he made a detour, dropping from his web and onto the ground before he jumped over the locked fence surrounding the park and he spied the one he was looking for not far in front of him.

She sat on the ground beneath a tree, her back pressed up against the trunk and her knees pulled up to her chest with her arms wrapped around her legs and her head buried in her knees.

He knew she knew he was there, he heard the slight hitching of her breath, he heard her heart skip a beat and he saw her shoulders tense before slumping. He wished he knew how she knew it was him, but he knew there was no point in asking.

He didn't speak as he reached up to pull off his mask and he moved to sit beside her, his shoulder brushing hers and he bent his legs at the knees, resting his arms over them. Neither of them spoke for what seemed like hours but he was sure was only a few minutes, but he was happy to give her time to sort through her thoughts, he was happy to wait until she was ready to talk to him.

He heard her take a breath before she lifted her head and turned to look at him. She wasn't crying but her eyes were brimming with unshed tears and the slight flush to her skin was likely from the cold, but it made the group of freckles on her nose stand out a little more.

"You want to tell me what happened?" He asked her.

She gave another sniffle and took a breath. "I lost my first patient today," she said quietly, and he felt his facial expression soften. "It's been nearly a year since I started my training, I've seen to hundreds of patients and today's the first time I've not been able to help. I know not everyone can be saved and I knew what to expect before I started my training, but it's different knowing that and feeling like you're not good enough."

"Hey, I'm sure you're great at what you do," he said softly.

Her mouth twitched. "You don't even know what it is that I do," she pointed out.

"Maybe not, but you said you've seen to hundreds of patients and this is the first one you've not been able to help. That tells me that you're great at your job and unfortunately, as you said yourself, not everyone can be saved."

"Since becoming Spider-man, has there been anyone you've not been able to save?"

"There's been people I've not been able to help, but no, I don't think there's been anyone that I've not been able to save, not that I know of at least. But I have to split my time between being Spider-man and being a normal person, so I'm not going to be able to help everyone which is where the emergency services come in."

"How do I get past this?"

"Maybe look at those that you did help. For everyone one person you can't help, there's another that you can. I don't want to say it'll get easier because I doubt it will, but it'll be something you'll be able to reflect on. Was it an error on your side of things that prevented you from helping?"

"No, there was just too much damage and the bleeding couldn't be stopped in time."

"Then it wasn't your fault and I'm sure you did everything you could."

"Thank you," she breathed out.

"You look exhausted," he said.

"I feel it, I had another twelve-hour shift but we were short staffed and there was an influx of patients so I had to work overtime, so I've just pulled an eighteen-hour shift."

"How are you even still speaking?" He asked surprised.

"A lot of caffeine," she sighed. "But now I need my bed."

"Should you really be working so many hours?" He asked, a crease appearing in his forehead.

"I've a specific amount of hours I have to achieve in the workplace before I'm signed off for completed training. I took my final exams the day before moving here, passed with flying colours."

"Alright smarty pants," he joked and she laughed at him. "How many hours do you have to achieve?"

"Three thousand minimum," she answered.

"Whoa, that's a lot," he said in surprise.

"Not really," she smiled. "There's eight thousand seven hundred and sixty hours in a year. That's seven hundred and thirty, twelve-hour shifts a year, but I've been doing a lot of overtime lately. If I do four twelve-hour shifts in a single week, that's one hundred and three days of work, so in half a year I could achieve the required amount."

"I feel a headache about to happen," he muttered.

She chuckled at him. "I like to plan ahead," she said. "I've got less than a hundred hours left, so that's eight twelve-hour shifts unless I do overtime again in which it's done sooner. In two weeks I should be fully qualified as long as I pass the review stage."

"I've no doubt you'll ace it," he said.

"You don't know what I'm capable of, what I've learned or how smart I am," she said amused.

"Don't have to, the fact that you know how many shifts you'd have to do to complete your training in a year, and that you've helped hundreds of people in that time tells me you know exactly what you're doing and you'll ace it."

"Well, if you can have that much faith in me, I suppose I should believe in myself."

"You definitely should," he nodded in agreement before he pulled himself to his feet and turned to face her, holding his hands out to her. She raised an eyebrow. "You need to get home and get some sleep, sitting around and dwelling on what happened isn't good for you."

She unfolded her arms and reached out, placing her hands into his and he pulled her up until she was standing.

"How'd you even get in here?" He asked.

"Climbed the fence," she said.

He didn't quite believe her; the fence was much too high to climb but with his abilities, it hadn't taken much effort, yet he didn't comment on it. He looked down at her, her expression softer but her eyes still looked a little troubled and he suspected she probably wouldn't sleep well no matter how tired she was.

"Do you need a hug?"

"Excuse me?" She questioned, her eyes widening as she stared at him in surprise.

"A hug? You look like you could do with one," he said, hoping to God it was too dark for her to see his skin flushing a light pink.

"I... You know, a hug would be great, it's been a while since I've been able to a hug a friend," she said.

He felt a little awkward and wasn't sure how to actually bring her into a hug without it being weird, but she thankfully took charge as she stepped closer to him and reached up, wrapping her arms around his neck and her forehead pressed against his shoulder. He lifted his arms to wrap around her back, being sure not to put his hands anywhere she might consider inappropriate. Her scent of vanilla was stronger now that she was closer to him and he could feel the heat of her body even through his suit.

He wasn't quite sure how long they stood there with neither of them speaking or trying to break apart, but he wasn't going to complain. He couldn't really, not only because he'd been the one to ask her if she wanted a hug in the first place, but because he actually found that he quite liked her hugging him. Before he knew it she was slowly pulling back from him and it took everything he had in him not to just tug her back into him and he let his arms release her and drop to his sides.

"Thank you, my mum always used to say there's nothing a hug and a good cup of tea can't fix," she smiled.

"Are you going to be alright getting home?"

"Fine,"

"I don't like the thought of you walking home on your own."

"Well, I'm never doing..." She motioned swinging from a web with her hands and he snorted at her. "Ever again. I'll just get a taxi."

"Do you want to wait until you get one?"

"No, it's getting late and you should probably get home." His eyes widened and he realised she was right, he'd definitely missed curfew. She chuckled. "Go on, before you get in trouble."

He pulled his mask back on before running off and shooting some webbing to pull him over the high fence and he swung his way home, noting the faint sound of a 'crack'. He didn't look but he knew if he did she probably wouldn't be where he'd left her. It was going to kill him not knowing her secrets.

He arrived home in less than ten minutes and snuck in through the window, pulling off his mask and letting out a sigh of relief, only he startled when his bedroom door swung open and the light was switched on, his Aunt May stood in the doorway with her arms crossed and a less than pleased look on her face.

"Hey, May," he said nervously, shifting on his feet when she narrowed her eyes at him. "I can explain," he said quickly.

"You bet you're going to explain, and it better be the best explanation in the world or you're grounded," she said. He cleared his throat. "Well? What's your excuse for missing curfew on a school night? Bank robbery? Mugging? Missing cat?"

"I was helping a friend."

"Why would Ned need your help at this time of night?"

"I do have more than one friend, May," he replied. She raised an eyebrow. "It's a girl."

She seemed to stand taller and both eyebrows raised high on her forehead in surprise.

"I met her a couple of months ago, she's British and just moved here."

Her anger simmered a little and she stepped into his room, moving to sit on the chair at his desk where she folded her arms and sat back, waiting for him to continue. He didn't dare sit down so remained standing in the middle of his bedroom.

"She helped me, I banged my head during a car chase and I passed out on a rooftop. When I woke she was there."

"She knows who you are?" She spoke, her eyes widening in worry.

"She hasn't told anyone," he said. "She promised she wouldn't and she's not a liar," he defended. "I don't know how, but I just do. Anyway, she helped me, took care of me whilst I was out cold. I didn't think I'd see her again..."

"But?"

"But I did, I met her a week later. She was lost so I took her to where she needed to be, we talked and after taking her to Delmar's, she left. Two weeks after that I was doing a final sweep of the neighbourhood before I came home and I saw her, she was being followed by a group of drunken men. I got her away from them and she wasn't too happy about the whole swinging thing..." She raised an eyebrow. "She hates heights. Anyway, we talked for a bit and then I left her. Two weeks after that I saw her standing at that food truck, you know, the one that sells dodgy burritos?" She nodded and motioned with her hand for him to continue. "Well, I took her for a corn dog and we went for some ice-cream but she had to leave because she got a message on her pager. A pager? Who still uses a pager?" He shook his head and his Aunt looked more amused than she did angry, so he kept going. "Last Sunday I was doing those errands for you and I saw her in the park. We talked for a while and I finally learned a bit more about her because she's very secretive, but I had to go stop a car thief. And tonight I was coming home when I saw her in the park. She was upset and I knew I couldn't just leave her there."

"Why was she upset?" She asked curiously.

Seeing as she'd calmed down, Peter moved to sit on his bed and he dropped his mask onto the mattress beside him.

"I'm not entirely sure what she does for a job, I think it might have something to do with medicine given the way she speaks about it, but she's been doing it for nearly a year now and she lost her first patient. I sat with her for a little bit, talked her out of her self doubt and worry and then came home."

She didn't speak but she was watching him with curious eyes and that made him more nervous than the anger he'd seen on her face earlier.

"This girl, what's her name?"

"Hermione," he answered.

"Pretty name," she tilted her head and he nodded in agreement.

"What do you know about her?"

"Only what she's told me; she's very secretive. I know she's eighteen, has a secretive job she can't tell me about and she moved here by herself, she's got no family and her parents died last year."

"Oh, the poor dear," she said softly, giving her head a shake.

"I don't know how we keep bumping into each other but the more we do, the more familiar she is to me. She's different." She raised an eyebrow. "There's something about her that I don't understand, it sets my spidey senses on edge but it doesn't feel bad or wrong, just different."

Her mouth pulled into a smile. "Is she pretty?"

"What?" He blurted out in surprise.

"Is she pretty?" She repeated.

"Well... I... Er..."

"I'll take that as a yes," she said amused. "Is she the reason you've been so distracted lately?"

"Yeah," he sighed, seeing no point in denying it. "I just can't stop thinking about her. The more time I spend around her, the more I want to get to know her, the more intriguing she becomes. I feel comfortable with her, we barely know each other and because of that and the fact she knows my secret, I feel I can talk to her about anything without fear of judgement."

"Hmmm," she hummed thoughtfully, eyeing him strangely and he didn't like it. And he especially didn't like when her mouth tugged into a smile. "I'd like to meet her."

"Huh?" He said dumbly.

"Hermione, I'd like to meet this new friend of yours. She's obviously made a big impression on you."

He blinked slowly and shifted on his bed, feeling uncomfortable at the way she was looking at him.

"I don't know when I'll see her again, or even if I'll see her again."

"You will, and when you do, you ask her to come to dinner. Find out what her favourite food is and I'll make it for her."

"You're acting strange," he said.

"I'm not, it's perfectly normal for me to want to meet your new friend," she smiled innocently, before standing from the chair and heading for the door. "Get some sleep, you have school tomorrow."

Peter stared at the door as she closed it behind her, wondering what the hell had just happened.