Title: Amethyst Potter and the Man of Iron

Rating: T-rated. May go up to M

Genre: Drama & Romance

Pairing: Amethyst Potter (FemHarry) & Tony Stark

Warnings: Possible Lemons, FemHarry (Amethyst). Good Dursleys.

Prologue: 28 Years Ago

1st November, 1981; Privet Drive, Little Whinging; Surrey.

Petunia Dursley woke up at 8:00 am; the same time she always did every day ever since she was 9. She freshened up and relieved herself, before making her way down the stairs to make some breakfast for herself and her one year old son Dudley. Her husband Vernon was fast asleep and as usual wouldn't awake till around 10:00.

She made pancakes humming happily as she remembered that Lily and her husband James would be here in the afternoon with their daughter, and her niece; Amethyst.

She had not yet laid eyes on her darling niece yet as the Potters were in hiding thanks to a murdering, homicidal, megalomaniac madman with breath-taking arrogance, a superiority complex and with ego levels that were off the charts. Petunia grumbled slightly at that fact.

Recently, the danger seemed to have receded slightly, and so, Lily had convinced James to pay a small social visit to her.

She noticed that she was out of milk and opened the front door, expecting two bottles of fresh milk to be there as they always were.

The first thing she noticed was: why had the milkman kept the bottles on top of their mailbox instead of their doorstep?(*cough*muggle-repelling charms*cough*) The second thing she noticed was: a blonde haired baby in a bundle of blankets sleeping soundly with a note clutched in his (she assumed it was a boy because who in their right minds would abandon an adorable little girl?) tiny fist. He had a tiny scar shaped like a lightning bolt on his forehead that appeared to be freshly acquired and his whole body gave off a definite golden glow. The glow was faint, but it was there.

She cooed at him softly, mentally cursing whoever abandoned him here on their cold, stone doorstep in the dead of night, during winter, instead of knocking on the door a mere two inches away and giving him to them personally. She pulled the note gently from his grasp. It appeared to be a letter addressed to her, written in emerald-green ink in a fancy, cursive script.

Dear Mrs. Petunia Evans Dursley,

My name is Albus Dumbledore. I am the Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, the same school your sister Lily attended when she was younger. We have corresponded before of course.

I regret to inform you that your sister and her husband James were murdered last night at their residence in Godric's Hollow by the dreaded Dark Wizard who calls himself Lord Voldemort. I believe Lily had told you all about him and his dastardly deeds when you both were younger and she was still in Hogwarts before she had to go into hiding and the two of you fell out of touch. They were betrayed by one of their closest friends; a Mr. Peter Simon Pettigrew who is currently on the run. Their one year old daughter, and your niece; Amethyst was the sole survivor escaping unharmed and unscathed except unfortunately, for the now-recently-famous, lightning-bolt scar on her forehead. It will hopefully disappear as time goes by. It is of extremely critical importance that you take her in and treat her as your very own. This will then activate blood wards keyed to both you and her, thereby protecting her from Voldemort's followers seeking revenge as she was the reason for his downfall and death. (Voldemort has no horcruxes in this fic and he died on the same day that the Avada Kedavra back-fired on him). This will also at the same time protect both you, and your family. I hope that dear Amethyst will find a new family in your home to replace the one she has lost just a day prior. I also ask that you keep her fully aware about both, her magical as well as her genetic heritage. This will help to psychologically increase her control over her magic and thus reduce instances of accidental magic. Her godfather Lord Sirius Orion Black and honorary uncle Remus John Lupin have requested that they be allowed to visit occasionally to check up on Amethyst. Your sisiter has named you and your husband Vernon, Amethyst's muggle(non-magical) guardians while Lord Black is her magical guardian. I ask that she be fed a healthy diet consisting of protein and vitamin-rich food. This will not only further improve and strengthen her control over her magic, but also increase the potency and strength of her magic.

In addition to this, I also cordially invite you to the funeral and will-reading of Lady Lilith Evans-Potter and Lord Jamieson Charlus Potter to be held on the 5th of this month starting at 9:00 am. I shall come to collect you and at the same time, drop off some of Amethyst's clothes and toys as well as books about her heritage and for her entertainment. I also ask you to ensure that she is not spoiled. Pampered yes, but spoiled no. I understand that she looks nothing like either of her parents, but that is due to the activation of a genetic..."anomaly", inherited from her father's family. I assure you that it is not at all harmful or dangerous.

If you wish to contact me, a Mrs. Arabella Figgs lives at Number 6, Privet Drive and you may contact her for any queries and she will relay them to me immediately. Amethyst's Hogwarts Letter will come on the 31st of July of the year 1992 when she is exactly 11 years old.

A monthly maintenance of 150 pounds will be paid to you for the upkeep of Amethyst from the Potter Family Vault. All elementary school and Hogwarts fees will be paid from there also. A trust vault in her name exists and the key shall be in her godfather's possession to be handed over to her to do as she pleases, when she turns fifteen and is emancipated in the eyes of the Wizarding World as the sole surviving (magical) blood relation of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter, one of the founding houses of the Ministry of Magic.

Yours sincerely,

Albus Percival Brian Wulfric Dumbledore,

Order of Merlin, First Class; Supreme Mugwump of the International Confederation of Wizards, Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, Transfiguration Master, and Headmaster of Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry.

Petunia gasped at this, and tears welled up in her eyes. Lily was dead? She sobbed silently for some time realizing that Lily wouldn't be coming after all. It was then that she remembered Amethyst. Smiling at her sleeping blonde-haired niece through her tears, she picked her up cooing softly and carried her back inside the house. She would be excellent company for Dudley and hopefully Vernon wouldn't make too big a fuss. Even as she thought about that, she dismissed the idea almost immediately. Her husband had a heart which was bigger than his waistline and that was saying something, although recently he had thankfully listened to her scoldings and decided to go on a diet.

Chapter 1: Present Day

27th June, 2009; Tuesday,

2030 Hours.

Six foot one, blonde haired, blue eyed, twenty-eight year old genius, child prodigy, multi-billionaire, most eligible and beautiful bachelorette and Consultant to the Department of Magic of the United States of America; Lady Amethyst Lilith Potter-Black with degrees in Advanced Mechanical Engineering and Designing, and Advanced Quantum and Astrophysics and a major in Magical Healing, sighed tiredly as she looked around her spacious glass-facade and mahogany-panelled office, pressing her well-manicured and nimble fingers to her temples and tiredly massaging them in circles to relieve her pounding head-ache. It had been a hectic day what with having to attend two five hour meetings back to back, with representatives from the American Government who wished to nationalize her company. She had made it clear that she was not interested and wished that the company remain in her name and in her family, but they still persisted, perhaps hoping that they could irritate her into agreeing.

The same offer had been made to her by the British, but she had told them very "delicately" to fuck off and leave her alone. She wished to have absolutely nothing to do with Britain and had reminded them that she was an American citizen as well now.

They hadn't liked that very much and told her so. She rolled her eyes at that memory. Like she gave a flying fuck about hurting their feelings.

A little back-ground for the ignorant:

Potter Industries had been founded by Lady Amethyst Lilith Potter at the tender age of fifteen with the help of her Godfather Sirius Black, when she had just finished her majors in Mechanical Engineering and Quantum and Astro-Physics. She was considered world-wide, a scholarly genius and a child-prodigy when she graduated from high-school when she was eleven. IQ tests at thirteen revealed her to have an intelligent quotient measuring a stunning 213, way higher as compared to Einstein's "measley" 162. She had secured a stunning three hundred and thirty seven thousand dollar scholarship, and making full use of it, had graduated from Dartmouth University at 18 with flying colours, securing first place in all her exams and majoring in all her courses. She had then turned to running her highly successful and profitable company full-time.

Her ex-godfather-turned-adoptive father; Lord Black, her honorary-uncle-turned-godfather; Remus Lupin, her aunt; Petunia, uncle Vernon and cousin Dudley Dursley were murdered in a 'freak' mysterious terrorist attack in Little Whinging, Surrey, came a mere five months after she had taken over her company full-time, leaving her the sole survivor. As such, she became Lady Potter-Black having inherited her all of her adoptive father's assets as well as his family name and had renamed her company accordingly.

She was the richest woman and the world's second richest person after Microsoft CEO and founder Bill Gates, with a total net-worth of around 177 billion dollars, falling short of the prestigious first place by 4.5 billion dollars.

However, in recent years, with Microsofts' popularity having reached a nuke-proof bunker made of titanium and buried five miles below the base of Mt. Matterhorn as compared to Potter-Black Industries, she looked well on her way to over-taking him in two to three months to become the richest person in the world and crossing the 200-billion mark a mere 2 years later (the first-ever!), if the current rate of growth of her wealth and assets continued steadily, according to top-statisticians and mathematicians.

This, she knew was not counting the near two billion gold galleons lying in various vaults in Gringotts from the Potter and Black and their affiliated houses' inheritances. She also knew that she could sell the galleons for their worth in gold, if not for the goblins who would (literally) crucify her; both physically, and figuratively, although were she to convert them to dollars, she would easily have an estimated 6 billion dollars more, not counting the priceless armors, artworks, swords, shields and magical and muggle books which she could sell both in the Wizarding World and in the Muggle one.

Today, Potter-Black Industries was the leading company in the world in the field of electronic gadgets, online security services and the motor industry. The automobiles, planes, ships, buses etc, produced by her company were some of the most cost-effective and energy-conserving vehicles in the world. They were mass-produced and exported to various countries all over the globe. Entire battalions of the army, navy and air-forces of developed and rich developing countries, consisted of vehicles and weapons bearing the trademark Potter-Black Industries logo: a blinding-white lightning bolt on a deep, midnight black background.

The mobiles phones, laptops and desktops, tablets etc, were high quality and value-for-money, with extremely large memory-banks; state-of-the-art gadgets that were used both, commercially in private and ordinary government offcies, in homes by the middle and upper classes, as well as for secure communication during both war and peace-time and also during day-to-day operations between important government agencies. Her company produced top-secret code-breaking computers for the NSA, CIA and the FBI. NORAD's mainframe was designed and protected by Potter-Black Industries personnel and recent rumors from obscure and geeky conspiracy websites full of evidences of UFO "sightings" and the like, were to be believed, in a top-secret off-the-charts referendum to the President, the NSA(National Security Agency) swore up and down that even their 1.9 billion dollar code-breaking super-computer blandly named the 'The Titan', an eight-story horse-shoe shaped, freon-cooled super-computer with 300 million stamp-sized perfectly synchronized processors made of a speacial titanium-strontium alloy, which auditioned a billion digits an hour, couldn't break Potter-Black Industries' encryption software for the government even if it was medium-level protection (for Potter-Black Industries) even after working non-stop for three days.

Sadly, the rumors could not be verified, and Amethyst refused to confirm nor deny, although she and everyone in the know knew that that theory was just plain ridiculous.

Consequently, as time wore by, the White House, Pentagon and NORAD mainframes, as well as the NSA, CIA and FBI databanks were all eventually updated to be protected by off-the-line, state-of-the-art Potter-Black Industries encryption software.

Their best-selling electronic gadget, the Xenon Apparate 2011 was the most advanced commercially produced phone yet. It had a ninety gigabyte RAM including expandable memory and a memory card could add an extra 15 Gigabytes, an 8 GHz quad-core processor and had 12 Megapixel front and back cameras and was completely water-proof thanks to a magic enhanced motherboard and body.

If Potter-Black Industries ever recommended or bought stock in a company, that company's CEO and Board of Directors were immediately swamped by speculative paparazzi and gold-hunting prospective employees. Their stock value and points also immediately shot right through the roof. This was the reason why Stark Industries' reputation for being an 'in-demand' weapons manufacturer shot up into 'America's leading manufacturer of weapons' overnight, making its CEO Anthony Stark, the only son of the now deceased Howard Stark a multi-billionaire. Needless to sayStark Industries rival billionaire Justin Hammer, CEO and founder of Hammer Industries was not at all amused.

The well-known motto of her company was "Curiosity is Knowledge, Knowledge is Success, and Success is Power", and to prove this in action, various educational camps had been organised in varoius the developing parts of the globe. In every UN affiliated country in the world, ten schools for the poor and disabled were selected to get the latest and the best Potter-Black Industries tech for free for each and every student, specially adapted to their needs, with special built in memory-banks containing thousands of educational and some light entertainment books, movies and games.

This had earned her two Nobel Peace Prizes for the last two years straight, and many awards from various other charities, the money from which, she promptly invested in organising even more education camps even in non-UN affiliated countries and donated to charities for orphans. She was hailed as a modern-day Mother Teresa (not the first to be hailed so) and protests were already underway in various parts of the globe, to have her canonized on her death.

Getting back to the story; another reason for her weariness today, other than the hectic meetings with the representatives from the government, was a letter she had received from the British Ministry of Magic asking-no demanding that she return "home" immediately. The British Ministry had been looking for her ever since she had never turned up for Hogwarts when she was eleven. What they didn't know was, that with Dumbledore's permission and assistance, she had been home-schooled in magic ever since she was eight, in America where the American Ministry of Magic located in the Washington Monument gave her a pass to do under-age magic and promised to keep their mouths shut. Dumbledore had no doubt pulled a lot of favours for that. Of course it helped that the President of the Magical and Muggle United States of America and his family (the muggle and magical governments were pretty much the same) were old allies and friends of her family.

They had eventually found her in an expensive penthouse flat in New York and they had hit the roof. Literally. Magic totally rocked!

They had eventually managed to convince her to help finish off the remnants of Voldemort's forces when they staged a revolt against the Ministry when she was fifteen. Her reason for accepting was simple: Dumbledore's cold-blooded murder. The Death-Eaters had put a wand to a twelve-year old girl's head and threatened to blow it off if Dumbledore didn't surrender himself and his wand.

When he did surrender, they first killed him with an Avada Kedavra, before blowing off the girl's head anyways, claiming she was nothing more than a filthy mudblood.

That was what had really unified (finally!) the British Wizarding World against the Death-Eaters. However, that wasn't enough and Amethyst wanted revenge.

At Number Four, Privet Drive, Sirius, Remus, and she had visited her relatives on their request even though they knew it wasn't safe.

While "catching up with the times", the house had exploded in flames and shrapenel. Her relatives had died immediately leaving behind nothing bigger than a finger-nail (if that) and some blood-stains. Sirius and she managed to erect shields around themselves, but Moony's (obviously) didn't make any difference to the dreaded sickly-green curse. The Avada Kedavra.

Sirius sacrificed himself for her as she apparated first to Hogsmeade, then to the British Ministry and then flooed back to America in a rage, her eyes overflowing with tears, and vowing to never step foot in Britain again.

On an aside, the under-age magic pass granted to her by the Americans, got her noticed by SHIELD (the Strategic Homeland Intervention Law-Enforcement Department) who looked to recruit her as soon as she was emancipated at the age of fifteen, into the Avengers Initiative. She had declined immediately, but they had still persisted relentlessly. Thankfully however, they had recently scrapped the Avengers Initiative due to "lack of applicants" and had lost almost all interest in recruiting her (she had hacked their mainframe long ago and placed a tap on it). She really looked forward to one day hopefully, working on the Tessaract.

She sighed tiredly just as her secretary Miranda Cooper, a stunning five foot, five brunette with beautiful green eyes, curly hair and cute, perky breasts that were a little on the small side; knocked quietly on her office door before entering and placing an envelope on her desk. "Tiring day?", asked Miranda sympathetically.

"You have no idea", grumbled Amethyst. Miranda clucked disapprovingly. "You need a holiday hon".

"I know", muttered Amethyst. "I just don't have the time".

"Well then hon, you need to get laid. Stark is a good one. Believe me, I know", she winked. Ignoring her boss' splutters, Miranda placed a letter on the desk. "Speaking of whom, here's a letter from him to you".

Her boss groaned. "What the hell does Stark want now?", she asked, even as she slit open the envelope, and unfolded the stiff paper tucked neatly inside. Miranda didn't answer as she new that the question was rhetorical and she wasn't really expected to answer. Turning around, she left her boss' office, her sharp, high heels clicking noisily on the marble-tiled floor calling a "Good Night Maam!", backwards over her shoulder as she finished her shift for the day.

"Good Night Miranda", called back Amethyst as she began reading the letter out loud. It wasn't like anyone was going to hear her and question her sanity. It was printed in an elegant script that curled and looped, making the writing rather difficult to understand;

Greetings Lady Potter-Black,

On behalf of stark Industries, I, the totally charming, hot and awesome Anthony Howard Stark (call me Tony hon! I want you to) CEO of Stark Industries, hereby invite you to the yearly fundraiser on the 4th of July of this year at 1830 hours, organized by Stark Industries at the Stark Expo.

Yours sincerely;

Anthony Edward Stark,

CEO and Founder of Stark Industries.

P.S: I'm always available :)

She groaned. This was just what she needed. Anthony-freaking-Stark hitting on her! She really needed a holiday.

"If Sirius were still alive he'd tell me to get laid", she thought to herself silently, her lips twisting into a bittersweet smile. "And then, mum would most likely kill him. But both of us would know that he was right", she chuckled quietly, remembering Miranda saying the same thing.

She got up from her desk, stretching luxuriously and wincing as she heard a few joints popping and cracking, and telling the AI (named after her father) which she had installed in her home, office and car who had access to all her personal electronic gadgets; JAMES (Just Another Marvellously Efficient System) to switch off the all the lights in Potter-Black Industries Tower as soon as she left since she was the only one left, and to turn on the ones in her home on the outskirts of the city.

She made her way down to the underground parking-lots, making her way to Parking Bay 01; just one of her five personal parking spaces, which were used occasionally by important guests and visiting dignitaries.

Her custom-made sports-car which could seat two, called "The Firebolt", was parked neatly there. The lights and engine were already switched on, the engine making a barely noticeable purr as it idled. A less advanced and cheaper version of it was given to the senior-most employees as an "office-car" for important occasions like galas and fund-raisers.

Hers had originally been painted a pure, spotless gold colour, but she had thought it too flashy and had had some hot-rod red thrown in, just for the sake of it.

It had almost the same design and shape as the Bugati Veyron, except that it was more streamlined, sleeker, faster, more powerful, quieter and energy and cost-effective with GPS navigation and bluetooth as well as a CD player, plush black leather seats and radio along with a built-in phone and seat-warmers as well as the most recent addition; JAMES. Being close to the military and having access to magic had its perks!

The one thing it wasn't, as compared to the Veyron, was lighter. The powerful magic-enhanced engine built with the aid of the Department of Magic, patented in her name, would have taken it to speeds in excess of 447 mph (magic rocked!), faster than a Formula One car, if not for the extra weight which slowed it to a topspeed of a "mere" 327 mph. It was a bullet, missile and water-proof, 5 ton armoured vehicle. She had had this made when she was extremely paranoid after the deaths of Sirius, Moony and her relatives.

It was basically a sports-car version of the American Presidential Limousine. Both could have a tank driven over them and come out intact and useable and a flame-thrower wouldn't even pucker the paint, although her car was way faster and was a full three tons lighter with less, but more powerful armor.

The Secret Service currently was considering buying 20 suburban versions of her Firebolt with built in machine-guns with an option for an extra 5 as well as 2 luxury limousine type versions of it. The deal if sealed, would be in excess of, or equal to 700 million dollars with a mimimum of 25 million dollars for one suburban and around a 100 million dollars for each limousine complete with the Presidential Crest and a custom-furnished interior.

Amethyst smirked smugly at that thought, thanking JAMES for warming her seat, as she pulled out of her customary underground parking lot.

She knew having all of this protection wasn't really necessary, that her magic, having recently developed almost a mind of its own, would protect her, but she couldn't resist showing off a bit. Plus, it never hurt to be cautious.

Driving out of the gate of her company's HeadQuarters/New York Branch (Potter-Black Tower), wishing the guards on duty a hearty good night, she drove away towards the opposite side of the city towards her mansion, grinning as people's eyes widened in awe as she raced by in her sports-car. Although they couldn't see her face thanks to the darkly-tinted one-way windows and windscreen, they recognized her well-known and advertised custom-made and registered license-plates: PBI-01.

Yes, it was good to be rich.

"Although it was nigh impossible to get laid without being recognized" she sighed out loud.

"Perhaps you could utilise your metamorphic abilities, Maam", suggested JAMES politely.

Amethyst sighed. "I was joking JAMES".

"My bad, Maam", apologized JAMES. Amethyst chuckled fondly in reply. "Whatever would I do without you JAMES?".

Long story short: Amethyst had discovered she was also a metamorphagus when she was nine when she had accidentally changed her hair colour from blonde to a shocking neon green, while she was actually concentrating on trying to summon an encyclopedia using the summoning Accio! charm.

She used to use a wand (Holly with phoenix feather and basilisk skin, eleven inches, good for duelling and offensive magic) , but now she had no need of one.

She had developed the ability to do wandless magic when she was thirteen and had "tried" to lift a car wandlessly for a test to measure the potency of her wandless magic carried out by th Unspeakables when they found out that she had the potential to be a Mage.

The car had rocketed upwards and punched through the roof, leaving a gaping hole in the roof of the Headquarters of the Department of Magic and her ability had developed on its own from there. It had gotten to the point where she could cast better wandlessly rather than with a wand and could manipulate simple magics with merely a thought. The American Neuro-Healers had previously speculated that it could be thanks to her rather large IQ and large magical core, before their Unspeakables proved in a rather unorthodox way, that she was a Mage; the first one since Merlin and Morgana Le Fay.

She however, liked to think that it was a combination of both.

She pulled into the entrance to the driveway of her sprawling three-story mansion with two floors hidden below the ground, a basement below that, a large garage, several secret rooms and passages, as well as an enormous attic that doubled as her muggle lab. She passed a metal on wood sign on which the name of her mansion was inscribed; "Castle Olympus".

She passed through enormous, electrified, dual-hardened black steel gates reinforced with magic, with a matching fence with the Potter and Black crests in colour on the white marble pillars situated on either side of the entrance to the smooth, asphalt drive-way. The mansion was built on a cliff with rocks, rich in marble and overlooking the Atlantic. The driveway had a beautiful grey, granite footpath and the road was softly lit with a yellow glow coming from continuous strips of lights embedded in the sides of the footpath, with beautiful streetlamps lighting the steps leading to the entrance doors of the mansion. The mansion had been completed in 2009, a mere two years previous. It had been a congradulatory graduating gift from her family (Sirius, Remus, Dumbledore and her Aunt, Uncle and Cousin)

The mansion was built purely out of the diffferent kinds of marble (white, black, green and brown) and had a stunning glass facde. Its grounds had an Olympic-sized swimming pool, a tennis court, a basket-ball court, a jogging track, and three acres worth of lush, green, well-maintained gardens along with a lake blooming with lilies.

The mansion had a large helipad with black and red coloured Augusta Westland AW101 VIP helicopter, as well as a runway with a blue and white, long-range luxury Gulfstream sitting there on the tarmac. Both had "Potter-Black Industries" written in white and red on them respectively and the Gulfstream had the Potter-Black crest (a combination of the crests of both the families, designed by her as the Head of House) on its tail.

An iconic and beautiful white, marble fountain, strikingly similar to the one in the White House grounds, with beautiful flowers (roses, orchids, violets etc) arranged in concentric circles around it, lay in the exact center of the distance between the main doors of the mansion and the only gate, while the driveway was shaped just like at the White House. Trees flanked the driveway until the fountain and dotted the plush 3-acre grounds at regular intervals.

The double-doors were made of pure gold and had been imported from Northern India; Delhi to be exact, and were priceless 16th century Mughal Dynasty. The entire house had been strengthened by magic: unbreakable charms, anti-rusting charms, anti-theft charms, protective runes, charms to preserve the colour of important artworks and carpets and curtains, cleaning and anti-dust charms, anti-staining charms, as well as charms that protected the entrance doors and the priceless "lost" paintings and sculptures inside by famous artisans like Michelangelo, Bernini, Da Vinci etc, and other paintings dating back to the Ancient Egyptian, Greek, Roman, Indian and Norse Civilizations, which till recently had been lying in stasis, untouched and unharmed, in the Potter and Black Family Vaults. These charms protected these works from the harmful effects of nature (wind, rain, sun etc), as well as theft and damage by fire, glass and other man-made causes.

The whole house was protected by every "legal" ward, charm, rune and spell discovered except the Fidelius Charm, muggle-repelling charms, and charms, spells and wards that would kill or permanently incapacitate people. Those deadly runes, wards and the like, were kept already inscribed on and tied to a separate ward-stone, that was always kept ready for activation in case of an emergency.

The house was not connected to an electricity, water and gas supply, but instead, runes patented in her name provided all this, a result of a deal between her and the Magical American Government which allowed her to patent those inventions to which she had contributed more than 25% of the design and conception. In return for this, she would have to restrict herself from using her magic to influence the Stock Market and to influence business decisions. Turns out the Americans were extremely insecure about that, not that she was going to complain. For doing something she would have done anyways, she was getting somethings in return, essentially for free, which she just wouldn't have gotten otherwise.

Getting back to the story;

Thanks to these protections, her house had no need to be maintained or protected externally, in any way, shape or form.

That was the good part about her house. The bad part was, that the nearest person AKA her neighbour; was Anthony Stark. His midnight bashes were just plain annoying. The noise was so loud, that even all the way over here, a mile away, her boobs would vibrate as she lay in bed thanks to the sub-woofers. Although, that was more than pleasurable, the pounding head-ache in the morning, thanks to a sleepless night, resulting in a caffeine-high was so not worth it.

The garage doors opened automatically thanks to the motion sensors that registered her car approaching from a hundred feet away, activating the camers which scanned her license-plate and confirmed it was hers and was original from a special UV chemical "footprint". The camera in turn activated a screen in her car which asked her to scan her palm and give a voice-recognition test. Not slowing down in the slightest, she did as she was asked to do by her own programming, causing the doors to open when it had been confirmed that it was really her.

She zipped at breakneck speeds down the asphalt slope, coming out in a large garage that held collectible and expensive antiques as well as luxury cars with custom-registered license plates. The garage also acted as a showroom thanks to the glass partition that allowed the garage to be viewed from inside the mansion.

She screeched to a halt in a random parking space, and got out telling JAMES to power up her computers and do his routine, daily scan for profitable companies and check the state of her investments.

She apparated without a noise, to her large bedroom (she could once she was inside the wards as they were keyed to her). She as usual appeared in front of an ornate bronze 18th century mirror, looking startlingly similar to the Mirror of Erised. There was a king-sized bed, two bedside tables, a dressing table, with an expensive and large make-up kit that was hardly ever used.

With a wave of her hand, her expensive, custom-tailored Cambridge produced office clothes (a stiff black formal skirt that reached just above her knees, white lacy lingerie - a girl had to treat herself! - a white, tight-fitting shirt and a black suit) were banished to her personal laundry room leaving her standing fully naked in front of the full-length mirror. The house elves would wash, dry and iron them later.

The quaint lightning-bolt star which she had aquired when she was one and had lost her parents, had finally disappeared when she was twelve. Her smooth and silky blonde coloured hair, which was completely straight, fell lushly down to just above her waist. Her clear baby-blue eyes examined her six foot one bodice critically in the mirror. Her cheekbones were high and prominent, her lips were full and pouty and were always naturally red. Her eyelashes were long and curly and complemented her cheekbones giving her a regal, aristocratic look. Then again, she was aristocratic.

She had a perfect hourglass figure and a tight, perfectly shaped and firm ass. She was extremely fair, which gave her a natural blush on her face, adding to her cuteness and beauty. She also made sure to always keep herself perfectly shaved, not that that was a challenge thanks to her metamorphic abilities. Her nails were manicured, and her eyebrows had been skillfully plucked and shaped.

Her breasts were cute, firm and perky. They were a bodily proportionate D-cup and so didn't look ugly and heavy on her, while her nipples and clit were a healthy rosy pink. According to her godfather, she had acquired her mother's hourglass figure, and long legs.

She knew from pictures shown to her by her aunt, that she looked absolutely nothing like either of her parents. According to Dumbledore, this was due to the active Veela blood in her from the Potter side, which stemmed from the time of her great-great-great-great-grandfather Henri Potter who had married a beautiful French Veela called Christina Delacour. She usually kept her allure on a tight leash, but here in the safety and sanctity of her own home, she liked to let go of her allure (which she did), and feeling it flare up around her filling not just the whole room, but also bursting out of the closed door into the hallway beyond. A light-bulb sparked a little in the corridor just outside, and burst with a bang and a tinkle of falling and breaking glass, while several more flickered, before the wards stepped in and compensated for the magical overload, repaired the broken bulb and notified Amethyst about the break. She ignored this, as it happened almost everyday.

Her allure was more powerful than most Veelas and had even managed to attract perfectly straight women to her when she was a teenager and had extremely limited control over her allure. For some reason, once the effects of the allure wore off, those same women would find themselves checking out both; the same sex as well as the opposite. She shuddered delicately in disgust at that memory.

She also loved the way she could turn into an indestructible (albeit furry!) avian form at will and when angered, and start raining down fireballs with a (furry) vengeance upon her enemies. Hell truly hath no fury like a woman scorned.

She was a full Veela, as contrary to popular opinion, there were no such things half and quarter-Veelas. They would have gone extinct long ago if that was the case. She just had a better control over her Veela allure thanks to her mastery in Legilimency and Occlumency (they were also what helped her in signing good business deals, hence making her this rich in such a short span of time, albeit used sparingly), although, even restrained, it was more than enough to make most men go wobbly-kneed and start drooling in her presence. Thanks to this, she faced a problem that had haunted countless generations of Veela for ages: finding a mate. There were no male Veela and thanks to this, finding a mate who truly loved them and not their beauty was extremely hard. Finding a mate who could resist their allure, was even harder. Because of this, a Veela usually ended up marrying the person who showed her the closest thing to love, just to ensure the continuity of their species and to ensure that her family bloodline did not die out.

Amethyst however, had vowed that she would only marry and fall in love with a man who would treat her equally and not as a prize, and would not be a gold-digger. Being immune to her allure was preferred, but not necessary.

Having finished her daily inspection of her body, she summoned her head house-elf; Zeus and asked him to draw her a bath and to make a reservation for one, for her at her favourite restaurant; Le Chateau; while at the same time, telling JAMES to make a new appointment for her on the 4th of July and to mark the venue as the Stark Expo.

After her bath, without even coming out of her bathroom, she apparated still naked, to her lab in the attic. She was still wet, but the wards took care of that for her as they always did, drying her off immediately.

As always, JAMES had the results of the scan by now and she checked it and made the necessary adjustments. She also bought 10% of the total shares of Stark's company. Since the private weapons manufacturing industry was a well-paying one, she planned on eventually entering her company into that arena, by buying a majority of shares in an already existing, large and well-to-do company. She knew it would most likely be Stark Industries because annoyingness and ego aside, Stark knew his machines while Hammer was just a bumbling idiot.

Zeus apparated into the attic with a loud Crack! and told her that he had made a reservation for her and had asked the manager as always, to keep silent about the whole thing and get her a private booth.

She nodded and ordered him to bring her her semi-formal clothes.

Three racks of clothes later, she had decided on an outfit. It consisted of a casual black shirt, a grey semi-formal skirt, and black pumps.

It was a simple attire, but she still drew the stares of every man she passed during her short walk from her non-descript (yet armour reinforced) car (Potter-Black Motors; M-Class) produced by her own company which was targeted at the middle class of people; which she used when she didn't want to draw any attention to herself; to the revolving doors of the high-class restaurant. She had used her magic to ensure that no one would recognize her unless she told them who she was; a modified notice-me-not charm.

The maitre d' greeted her in hushed yet awed tones and led her to a private booth she was all to familiar wirh, considering the fact that she sat here every time she came to the restaurant.

After she had finished her food and paid, leaving behind a rather hefty tip, and was exiting the restaurant she bumped into a man on the footpath. She lost her balance and almost fell, but the man quickly grabbed her hand and steadied her.

"Whoa there!", he exclaimed and flashed her a charming smile that left her slightly off balance, although she refused to show it.

"Thank you", she told him composedly. She could barely see him in the dim light, but she thought she saw his eyebrows furrow slightly at her reaction or rather lack there-of.

"What's your name", he tried again. When she didn't reply, he smirked suggestively. "Beautiful girl, out in the dead of night...", he paused delicately looking at her.

When she understood what he was implying, she flushed and glared at the man. "Look here smartass, I don't care who you are, or what you want, but call me a prostitute or a call-girl again, and I promise you that you will regret it".

The man chuckled and raised his arms in surrender. "I didn't say anything about you being a prostitue, although it is rather funny how you assumed that I was", he smirked annoyingly.

She growled and tried to side-step him, but he stood firm blocking her way. "Move mister", she snarled feeling a momentary flicker of fear before it was gone when she remembered that she could use her magic to defend herself if necessary.

He sighed. "Very well. May I atleast walk you to your car?", he asked trying but failing to keep the hope out of his voice. "And then carry out a search for me using my license plate?", she asked him with a raised eyebrow. He flushed.

She smirked. "Since you are so eager to spend time with me, you can buy me a drink".

"Alright, where?"

"Where would you suggest?"

"My place?"

She hesitated. For some reason her instincts were telling her to accept and her instincts were never wrong. She made her decision and looked him square in the eye. "Alright then smartass, lead the way".

He looked confused. "What about your car?"

She messaged JAMES and told him to access the controls to the M-Class and "drive" it home.

"Done", she said putting her phone away. "Let's go".

He looked disappointed before he perked up again, making her eye him suspiciously. He grinned easily at her. "My car is this way", gesturing behind her.

She nodded and fell into step with him. "So, now can I know your name?", he asked her curiously.

"Amy", she smirked. "Just, Amy".

"Well then, Just Amy, don't you know, or want to know who I am?"

"And who are you?" He looked at her incredulously before smirking. "You know what? You tell me when you figure it out".

She frowned at this, resisting the urge to use legilimency to simply "read" who he was. She wasn't on business and she respected his privacy.

He lead her to an expensive Audi R8 and helped her into the seat behind passenger seat next to the driver even as she nodded to herself. This confirmed what she already knew. The man was rich. She could tell that much from his black Armani suit and Rolex watch. She was so lost in thoughts that she missed the license plates on his car: STARK 05.

A momentary look of surprise and thoughtfulness crossed his face when she made no reaction to his expensive car nor his plates, although he supposed she might not have noticed the plates. Yet she should have been awed at his car, unless...this was normal for her. Her looked at her discreetly, out of the corner of his eye as he got in behind the driver's seat, telling Happy to take them home. She was wearing semi-formal clothes that she pulled off with a casual elegance, suggesting that she wore this style often. She was obviously cultured. He could tell that much from her method of speaking even though she had called him a smartass. He could smell the seducing fragrance of Chanel perfume on her. She wore no make-up and he was willing to bet that the blush on her cheeks was natural. She looked like a goddess. A goddess with some of the longest legs he had ever seen. It was as he started the engine that he noticed the ring on her finger that screamed of money. It was made of gold and had a single large diamond on it. It was on the wrong finger, so it was for show and she wasn't married or engaged. She was almost definitely single and looked about a year or two younger than his twenty-nine.

Happy pulled out onto the road in what could be considered a rather reckless manner, even though he took all the necessary precautions. Tony noticed that she did not flinch in the slightest. So she almost certainly a rather confident driver. That, or stupid.

She had worn her seatbelt which added water to the confident-driver hypothesis and id away with the stupid one. And her name; Amy. Almost definitely a nickname, since 'Amy' was considered an American name and she was definitely either French or British judging from her accent, which sounded like a combination of the two. It was faint, but it was there.

He told Happy to take them to his mansion-home on the outskirts of the city.

He glanced at the woman sitting beside him again, out of the corner of his eye.

She truly was a mystery. He knew right then and there that he wanted to get to know her better. Not like the rest of his one-night stands, but intimately. Slowly and steadily. Maybe, just maybe she could be his first girlfriend.

AN: This is a one-shot for now. I swear that I will continue this, although 'The Lord and his Lady' will be my priority. There will be no updates for the rest of this month, the next, and maybe the one after that. I'm sorry, but life isn't fair and I'm extremely busy right now. The only reason I'm posting this was because three quarters of this chapter was already done a year ago, and I had put it on hiatus. I might update 'The Lord and his Lady' today or tomorrow, but if I don't...believe me, I am sorry.

PS: Suggestions for a better title would be helpful.

Apex113 out.