"I'm not sure about meeting the Avengers properly but I'm with you," Harry said as he stared down at Vienna through the plane window. "They did kidnap me for possibly nefarious purposes though."

T'Challa's lips twitched up into a small grin as their plane landed. The late afternoon sun seemed to glare at them through the window, making him glad that it wasn't the peak of summer. Vienna lay under them and around them, the European architecture very unlike Wakanda. "You would have held your own, had you stayed. I am sure of that."

"Yeah. I do want to meet this Scarlet Witch. And maybe Stark. I've heard a lot of… differing opinions about him."

"We have a night before the talks," T'Challa remarked, glancing at Harry and meeting his eyes. "I could take you out for dinner perhaps."

Harry turned towards him, raised an eyebrow. "Out for dinner… As in on a date?"

T'Challa dipped his head in a nod. "A date. Yes."

"I would love to," Harry said, his eyes going soft and his shoulders relaxing. "I've never been to Vienna so whatever you pick works for me."

"I do have a restaurant in mind," T'Challa offered, mind going to the place in question. "It is a formal wear setting. Do you mind?"

"Not at all. As long as we split the bill."

T'Challa let out a laugh at Harry's words. "I can provide for one dinner date."

"I know you can. So can I. I brought all of my family's wealth with me," Harry spoke, his lips curling up into a small frown. His eyes moved to a spot ahead of them in the plane, his gaze far away and T'Challa slowly reached out to entwine their fingers, hoping to bring Harry back to the present. Harry smiled at him as he turned back to him, holding onto his fingers in return. "No matter what I do, I'm not going to have a problem with money. And… bonus… I'm not about to go courting you for your money."

T'Challa grinned. "Courting? Who said anything about courting?"

"I thought you know… Dating kind of sounds silly when you go out with a prince. Courting sounds better. Also, that's what the majority of the purebloods called it back in my world. Not that I much cared for them."

The hotel room that Shuri had reserved for Harry placed him right next to T'Challa's, looking out over the city of Vienna. It was a beautiful city, with white gleaming towers and many interesting looking historical buildings. He could see the United Nations offices just to the south, with its many flags bordering the buildings.

The sun had gone down by the time that dinner rolled around and the city had come alive with street lights and music. The hotel they were in housed diplomats, ambassadors, presidents, kings and queens and it wasn't anything like Harry had ever seen before. Though given that he had seen Wakanda and the city within… Nothing compared to that.

His stomach started to growl as the sun fell in the sky. Harry looked around in his trunk for anything nice to wear and came up with nothing, before sighing and grabbing one of the sets of clothes he least wore and transfiguring it. A knock on the door came right when he was finished trying to brush his hair back. He stared at himself in the mirror, noting the tux he was wearing.

Harry wasn't… totally uncomfortable wearing nice clothes but he wasn't used to them. Most of the time he had spent after the war was in training to be an auror and that hadn't… There hadn't been any meeting or appointment or anything that he had had to wear formal muggle wear. There had been the occasional press conference with Kingsley but he hadn't been expected to wear formal wear then. His heart ached at the memories of his old world and shrugged them off, returning to his clothes problem.

But… then again… He supposed T'Challa wasn't wearing a real American tux. He looked down at himself and transfigured his clothes once again while walking over to the door. He ended up with a set of dress robes that looked nicer than the ones he had worn to the Yule Ball in fourth year. The robes had a collar that had hints of green and dark red to it and the robes were much more comfortable than the tux had been.

He opened the door to Prince T'Challa standing outside it, with Okoye flanking him.

T'Challa stood at casual attention outside, wearing a beautiful Wakandan formal suit. It looked like it had been interwoven with vibranium, twinkling black and purple silk.

"Wow, I suddenly feel underdressed," Harry commented, holding out his hand and flicking his fingers. His holly wand slipped into his palm and he tucked it into a pocket, feeling it almost hum happily in his mind. The elder wand had already tucked itself into another pocket without him even noticing, making him snort at the sight.

"You look handsome yourself," T'Challa said, holding out his arm in invitation.

Harry raised an eyebrow, grinned and closed the door behind him as he slipped his other arm through T'Challa's. "Dare I ask where our destination is?"

"You can. I may not answer," T'Challa answered, his lips curling up in a grin.

Harry rolled his eyes as they walked back down the hallway and took the elevator down.

As they waited for their food to be brought to their table, T'Challa looked Harry over, really looked this time. Harry's green eyes were light, his hair roughly brushed back though there were a few strands curling back wildly. Harry wore a beautiful set of wizarding robes unlike what he had been dressed in when he had appeared in Wakanda all those months ago. These were clean, unripped and dark in color, bringing out the color of his eyes.

T'Challa reached to grasp Harry's right hand, having noticed the scar on the top of his hand a week ago. Harry's eyes narrowed but he let him look, his fingers turning to grip T'Challa's. The scarring was rough and didn't look like anything he had ever seen but he could make out the words easily enough.

"I must not tell lies?"

Harry flinched a little, his eyes narrowing even more. "It's been a while since I've really looked at that scar. I… got it back in my fifth year."

T'Challa raised an eyebrow, staying quiet for a minute. They were in a secluded area of the restaurant, just the two of them in a booth where no one knew that T'Challa was the Prince of Wakanda. There were two musicians in the opposite corner of the room, playing quiet jazz that didn't interrupt conversation.

"That was the year after Voldemort came back to life, was it not?"

Harry nodded slightly, glancing down at his hand in T'Challa's grip. "Yes, it was. The ministry back then was… suspicious of Dumbledore and I suppose a little suspicious of me too. They and quite a big portion of the wizarding world thought I had been lying. They thought I was just being dramatic for the attention."

"You had the attention, if I understand correctly. They called you the Boy Who Lived." T'Challa sighed at the thought, imagining a 14 year old Harry going through that kind of trauma and then being called a liar. "I cannot even imagine what you went through."

Harry sighed, closing his eyes briefly before reopening them. "It was… tough. The ministry sent a woman to act as the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor for the year and Hermione instantly caught onto the real reason for that."

"Your ministry was interfering with Professor Dumbledore."

"Hmmm. Yeah. And she… Umbridge, who we called the Pink Toad," Harry continued, smiling at T'Challa's quiet laugh. "She did not like children. At all."

T'Challa frowned, his heart skipping a beat at the words and glancing down to the scar on Harry's hand. His thumb had started to rub circles into Harry's palm without him noticing and Harry grinned, seeing him notice.

"You had frequent detentions."

Harry nodded, shrugging. "Umbridge liked us to write lines. Mine was frequently these words."

"What happened for those lines to… be written on your skin like this? I am not going to like the answer, am I?"

Harry shook his head. "I think I told you the wizarding world used quills and ink, right?"

"Yes?"

"Umbridge made us use blood quills."

T'Challa blinked and froze, his fingers tightening on Harry's hand before slowly drawing Harry's hand to his lips and kissing the scar. Harry's eyes widened, heat sparking in those green eyes. T'Challa's heart flipped in his chest as he looked into Harry's eyes.

"You were 15 years old."

"Yes. Umbridge used them, knowing they were illegal too, and she even used them on a few first years. 11 year old children."

T'Challa sucked in a tight breath. "Torture. She was torturing you and your school mates."

Harry dipped his head in a slight nod, his eyes flashing in memory. "Hermione gave me something to help with the bruising back then but I had enough detentions for the 'lines' to run deep into my hand. I'm stuck with it."

"Please tell me she was arrested by your ministry."

A waitress came over with their food, making T'Challa have to withdraw his hand to leave room on their table. Harry's flashed in excitement at the food and his stomach growled again. T'Challa grinned as their plates were put in front of them and their waitress left them to it. Steam rose off of the two plates of food and Harry reached for his fork and knife.

Harry's lips twitched up into a little grin, his eyes twinkling with mischief. "The ministry was too corrupt before the war but the curse definitely took a toll on her."

"The curse?"

"At Hogwarts, when I was in school, no one Defense Against the Dark Arts teacher lasted longer than a year. There were people who speculated that a Tom Riddle Jr cursed the position when he didn't get a job there."

"You speak like this man cursed many people in his career."

"Tom Riddle Jr became Voldemort," Harry spoke, shrugging a little and digging into the steak on his plate.

T'Challa stared at Harry, blinked once. "That must be a long story."

Harry snorted. "Yeah. It's what Dumbledore and I looked into during my sixth year. It's not exactly a pleasant story too."

"What are your opinions on the Avengers then? Should they be limited in their actions?"

"Did your father put you up to this?" Harry questioned, as T'Challa took a bite of his risotto.

T'Challa grinned and shook his head. "I would like to know your opinions. My father is having dinner with a few other state officials."

"I… have no real opinion on the Avengers," Harry commented, groaning at a particular good bite. "I haven't met them and haven't fought with them. I only know of the Maximoff girl and she… needs training, at the very least. Her magic or power or whatever you want to call it is very… chaotic in nature."

"And yours isn't?"

"No. I remember you saying that she got her powers from a staff. I was born with my magic and went to school for six years to learn how to deal with it. I'm pretty sure she didn't have any training."

"Surely there must have been mistakes made by people in your world though."

"Definitely. There were spells that were off limits, curses that would get you thrown into wizarding prison… There was underage magic, which was not allowed."

"Underage?"

"Children were not supposed to cast spells or use charms out of school until they were 17 years old," Harry explained. "Of course, if you were in school, you certainly were encouraged to use magic for school work but during the summer and before you started school, it wasn't allowed. I think it was for safety more than anything. There was also a spell that once learned, you had to sign a special list in the ministry for."

T'Challa raised an eyebrow in question. Harry winked at him. "The animagus spell. Once learned, a wizard can take the shape of an animal. My godfather and father both learned the spell and were able to shift into a black dog and a male deer respectively. Though they didn't sign their names on the ministry list."

Harry grinned at a memory and T'Challa smiled, enjoying the sight.

"Have you… learned the spell?"

"Possibly."

T'Challa snorted and continued to eat, watching Harry return his smile.

"That… was the best evening I've ever had in awhile," Harry murmured as they walked back through the door to their hotel and over to the elevator. "Thank you."

T'Challa turned to look at him as they stepped into the elevator, his brown eyes warm. "You are most welcome."

Harry watched T'Challa, idly listening to the elevator music as it took them up to the sixth floor and dropped them off. His arm was again in T'Challa's, the man having reached out for him after leaving the restaurant. They walked in silence until they stopped at Harry's room, with T'Challa turning towards him and pulling back a little bit.

Okoye was standing behind T'Challa, giving them privacy. Ayo was standing at T'Challa's door, along with another member of the Dora Milaje who Harry hadn't met yet.

Harry paused before slipping his key card into the door, nudging the door open, and reached over to press a kiss to T'Challa's cheek. "Goodnight, T'Challa."

T'Challa smiled wider and watched as Harry closed the door behind him.

"When did you become this smooth?" Okoye questioned quietly as T'Challa walked back to his room, adjacent to Harry's. "You didn't even freeze once."

"I'm older?"

Okoye stared at him, her eyes narrowed. "Perhaps."