AANNNND THE SHIELD GOES TO SuperWhoPotterAvenge-X! Come on, Steve, it's not like you'll need it for this one anyways...you're more likely to need a wand...

Shoutout to marykatebooks for following! :)

And, as always, we're shipping Romanogers here.

11. Try to give everyone roles from Harry Potter

Clint

He was so going to hell for this.

Clad in tattered robes, a cane strapped to his back, and a strap-on monocle attached to his face, he crawled along the vents of Avengers Tower, dead bent on pulling off the greatest role play prank over. Finally, he reached the designated vent. Stealthily lifting the cover off (after all, he did inhabit the vents for a reason,) and placing it next to him, he now had a bird's-eye view-no pun intended-of the sleeping quarters of the tower's resident soldier and spy.

They looked so much cuter when they were sleeping, didn't they? Mentally berating himself for that sentimental thought-he could leave those for Thor and his Pop-Tarts-Clint lowered his Stark-issued megaphone into the room. Silently clearing his throat. This was it. The next minute and a half would determine his life. Okay, maybe it wasn't that serious-who was he kidding? He was about to piss off Natasha, for heaven's sake. The Black Widow. The world's greatest assassin. Oh, was he screwed.

Yup, the next ninety seconds would definitely determine whether he lived or not. He was totally going to hell for this. Oh, well. At least he would go out laughing.

"If I die," he silently whispered, "Bobbi gets everything,"

Natasha

"CONSTANT VIGILANCE!"

Instantly, she was up and at the ready, pistol already firing at the vents. Between each bullet she could hear the faint "Oh shit, oh shit, shitshitshitshit..." She stopped firing and squinted. Then, in a split decision, fired off once more, and Clint fell to the floor of her bedroom, in robes, cane, and a weird eye thing.

"Barton," The surname was pronounced quietly but threateningly enough to make anyone quake in their boots. "What. The. Hell."

"Ah, Ms. Weasley," Clint, always unabashed, stood up and dusted himself off. "Can't say I didn't expect this,"

She'd refocused her gun on him again. "Who the hell is-"

"STARRRRK!"

Steve came tearing into the bedroom, completely unaware of the stares he was getting from the archer and spy. She said nothing, only raised an eyebrow as the great Captain America barreled into the bathroom. One could only hope he didn't look where he wasn't supposed to.

"Potter!" Clint called to the now livid man in the bathroom. "You and Weasley, eh?" Slowly, Steve emerged from the bathroom, and it was only then that she got a good look at him. He was still handsome as ever, but this time in a...different way. Instead of his trademark blond, Steve's hair was now a jet-black color, rumpled and refusing to stay down. She squinted. Was that a scar on his forehead?

"Anyways, you two, let me know when you plan your engagement," Clint was blabbering. "Best that I start planning my retirement at that point, who knows what could happen with the spawn of a Weasley and a Potter-" He was cut off by the voice of an irate billionaire a few floors up.

"BARTON! WHY IS MY HAIR RED?"

"I feel it is wise to wonder of my appearance," Thor commented, later in the communal kitchen. "Why is it that I sport a long, scraggly beard that encompasses my head, and seem to be twice my height? Also, what is with this umbrella?"

"Your wand got snapped in half when you were in your third year," Clint answered matter-of-factly, pouring himself another cup of coffee. "All of your magic is in your umbrella. Not that you can do much, anyways,"

Tony hadn't said anything since they'd all met each other in the kitchen. It was assumed he was still getting over the shock of his hair being akin to that of a carrot's. The occasional sob emerged every now and again, but most of the time he was left alone.

"Oh get over it, Weasley," Clint rolled his eyes. "It's just your stupid-"

Natasha had plunked down her coffee mug faster than you could say 'spilled'. "I am so not-"

"Nah. You two aren't bonded in holy matrimony," Clint dismissed her with a wave of his hand. "Weren't you listening earlier?"

"I was deciding whether to kill you or not," she moodily mumbled, picking up her coffee to inhale once again.

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS?!"

An angry Pepper Potts stalked into the kitchen, bushy brown hair close to crackling. Thor let out a small snort of laughter, quickly reigning it in at her glare. "If this is another one of your so-called pranks, Tony, then I swear-"

"Pep. Not now," Tony half-wailed. "My hangover hurts, my coffee sucks, and my hair. Is. RED!" All of this was uttered with Tony's head still half-buried in his arms at the kitchen island.

"Huh. So it wasn't you," She raised an eyebrow towards Steve's black hair and scar, Natasha's now long and straight (but still red) tresses, Clint's bizarre getup, and lastly, Thor's beard. There was a large possibility of having insects in it.

There was a small recoil from the beard. It really did smell.

"Hey, wait a minute. Where's-?" Steve was cut off by a multitude of chirps. Each Avenger fished out their phone, Tony with some reluctance, and proceeded to read the following email (albeit with some difficulty from Steve and Thor).

Avengers:

Myself and Agents Hill and Coulson would like to know the meaning of this

immediately.

Director Fury

Attached were three pictures: one each of Fury, Hill, and Coulson. Each hero's eyes went wide as they tried to process what they were seeing. Fury looked more African than anything, regal and proud, and utterly peculiar with his eye patch, which had once looked familiar. Coulson hadn't looked much different, only more blonde, and his features schooled into a more innocent visage. Clint burst out laughing as he saw that Coulson had been holding a camera.

"Looks like Coulson's even more of a fanboy now," Tony snickered, having forgotten about his horribly red hair.

"At least his hair still gets to be normal," Pepper muttered, then reconsidered her statement. "Or. At least he had hair." That seemed to set Tony off, for he buried his head in his hands again.

But Thor couldn't stop staring at his phone.

"Thor?" Pepper asked tentatively. "Is everything alright?"

"L-la-lady Hill," Thor stammered. "It appears she's gone quite mad!" Everyone else referenced the email to see what he was talking about. Surely enough, there was Hill, only she looked completely... old. Her hair was still in its trademark severe bun, only with hints of gray. Wrinkles and facial marks were present in the plenty. Moles, freckles... everything. And she did not look happy.

"Kingsley, McGonagall, and Colin Creevey, " Clint chuckled under his breath. "And may I say that all worked out perfectly, "

"You'll be next, Mudbloods!" They all spun around to find...a blonde Loki?

"AHHHHH! IT BURNS!" Tony faked-cried, cringing.

"Oh, please, Weasley," Loki retorted. "Have you even looked in the mirror lately? Oh, wait, I forgot, your family doesn't own one,"

"...Weasley...?" Pepper echoed, looking back and forth between Natasha and Tony. The redheaded spy in question chugged more coffee in response, as if denying the connection.

"So." Bruce's voice was tinged with a slight amount of amusement as he walked into the kitchen. "I gotta say, Clint, you really hit the nail on the head with this one. Who'd you get to help you, Loki?"

"Loki?" the man in question snarled. "My name is Draco Malfoy, you filthy half-breed. My father will hear about this!" And with that, he stopped from the kitchen, muttering curses like "half-breed" and "Damn Mad-Eye".

"I'll take that as a yes," Bruce smirked, reaching for a mug. Surveying the various Avengers, his smirk grew into a chuckle. "Even got our ships, huh?"

"Please don't tell me-" Natasha's voice was sarcastically desperate. Bruce looked between her and Tony, then to Steve, and shook his head. She sighed in relief, and continued to guzzle her coffee as if nothing had happened. Without a word, Steve slid his mug over to her, which she picked up and began to down.

"Potter and Weasley, check." He nodded towards Steve and Natasha. "Weasley and Granger, check. Vain Weasley and smart Granger, double-check. Granger having to put up with Weasley, triple check,"

"Hey!" Tony muffled.

"It's true," Bruce shrugged. "Coulson as fanboy, excellent and accurate choice. Fury as Kingsley. Kingsley's still cooler."

"Hell hath nothing like Fury scorned," Clint joked, earning an eye roll from Pepper.

"And Hill as McGonagall? Rather fitting...Thor, my friend, you are accurate on so many levels I don't even know where to begin,"

"How 'bout by telling us what the hell is going on, and WHY MY HAIR IS RED?!" Tony yelped.

"...and why Thor has a beard the length of Midgard, why Clint's dressed like a hobo, and why my hair is bushy," Pepper threatened. Evidently, she hadn't taken it well, either. She was just better at hiding it than Tony.

"I'm Mad-Eye Moody," Clint defended. "I'm supposed to look ragged. It's part of my attire,"

"Hate to break it to you, but you don't look too great yourself, Bruce," Natasha answered nonchalantly.

"Course not," Bruce shrugged. "I'm a werewolf. And a member of the Order,"

"What the hell is the Order?" Tony demanded. "And why. Is. My. Hair. Red?!"

"Seriously? None of you have ever read Harry Potter?" Bruce asked in disbelief.

Several blank stares.

And so that was how, a week later, each Avenger woke up with a locked door and a complete box set of Harry Potter. Clint and Bruce were determined not to let anyone out until they'd finished the entire series, and had formulated some sort of opinion on whether Severus Snape was indeed a hero or a villain.

Reviews make my day! Don't let this writer be crushed..provide something? Winner gets an Invisibility Cloak to dye Nat's suit pink! (Because we all know we want to.)