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The weekend passed by slowly for Harry, who wasn't used to having nothing to do. He had never been the type to just sit in his apartment every weekend and had usually taken on missions or had met up with Ron and Hermione when he wasn't going out with Ginny.

At least it was only one weekend.

It took only an hour or two to unpack his bags and then Harry spent the rest of the weekend trying to relax. Trying being the key word. There was something that kept niggling at the back of Harry's mind, a feeling that something was going to happen.

Maybe it was his encounter with Fury or maybe he was just being paranoid since he was in a new country where he didn't know the areas as well. Either way, for two nights Harry hadn't slept. Instead, he had lain awake as the night turned to day, waiting for a fire call he felt was inevitably coming.

On Sunday, Harry spent most of the day getting all that he needed for his Monday morning meetings in order. In addition to sending over his bags of clothing and personal items, copies of the paperwork filed to create the department, the action plans and agendas for the department's mission, and various other notes had been sent over. With great reluctance, Harry had sat down and gone over every piece of paper so he could answer any questions presented to him on Monday morning.

By the time he had read through everything, it was nearly midnight. Harry rubbed his hand over his face as he got to his feet and stumbled a few feet to his bedroom. The apartment he had been set up in was small but that wasn't necessarily a bad thing, especially on nights when he had been working late.

The man collapsed on top of his bed, not even having the energy to pull the covers over him. Two days with no sleep had completely exhausted him and he had to be up in six hours to get ready for work. Within seconds, Harry was asleep.

"—tter! Potter!"

Harry jerked awake when he heard his name being called. He looked around groggily, straightening the glasses that he had forgotten to take off when he had gone to bed. The flames in the fireplace in his living room were a bright orange and Harry could just barely make out the shape of a face within it.

"Potter!" a voice from the fireplace called again. Harry stumbled to his feet and made his way over there.

"Yes?" he asked, resisting the urge to yawn. He had no idea how long he had been sleeping.

"We need you to go to a crime scene. It's in the state of Maine, in a muggle town called New Canada. The streets are Maple Road and Whisper Trail. Get there as soon as possible."

"What's going on?" Harry asked, still not quite sure who he was talking to.

"You'll see when you get there. We'll be expecting you in ten minutes but make it sooner if you can."

The face in the fire disappeared and Harry groaned as he pulled himself to his feet. He glanced at the time. It was two o'clock in the morning, meaning he'd gotten just over two hours of sleep.

"Why is it always me?" Harry muttered to himself as he pulled on a change of clothes and grabbed his wand. Focusing on the information given to him, Harry felt the familiar sensation of apparating swallow him up. When it disappeared, he was standing in New Canada, Maine.

Looking around, Harry tried to find any sign of Aurors or magical activity and he quickly found it. The man paled as he recognized the green smoke floating in the sky, forming a shape he had hoped he would never see again.

The Dark Mark.

With a determined step, Harry moved towards the Dark Mark hanging in the sky, wondering which home he would find it hanging over. This was a strictly muggle town, so he had a feeling of what he would find.

A few Aurors were standing in front of the house, looking solemn. One of them waved Harry over when he spotted the British man.

"The family?" Harry asked, not bothering with any pleasantries.

"All dead," the Auror who had waved him over replied. "Courtesy of the killing curse. Father, mother, two girls, and an infant boy. Not even the family cat was spared."

"Death Eaters?" Harry asked, looking around as if he expected to see the black robes and white mask standing nearby.

"That's what we're thinking."

"What else can it be?" a female Auror asked, crossing her arms as she stared at the scene. "They were the only ones that knew this spell."

"There were a few that escaped," Harry admitted reluctantly. "And that we still haven't caught. However, our intelligence said that they were elsewhere. There was nothing that hinted that Death Eaters could be hiding in the States, especially after the ones you had caught were extradited back to England."

"Well, clearly we all missed one," the female Auror grumbled. No one looked happy about the idea.

"If we had, what made them come out of the woodwork?" her partner asked. "We might never have discovered them living here if it wasn't for this. Now we'll be hunting for the one responsible. Surely they must know that."

"Not unless they've gone insane," a third Auror stated. "Or are looking for the thrill of the kill again."

There was another possible reason, Harry realized when he caught a few Aurors glancing over at him. He doubted that it was a coincidence that a few days after he had arrived in the United States, a Death Eater suddenly appeared, attacking and killing random muggle families.

Cursing silently, Harry stepped forward to go inside the house, bracing himself for the scene that lay ahead.


"In breaking news this morning, overnight a family in New Canada, Maine was killed in their homes. Authorities have not said if they have a suspect or a motive behind this killing, but the medical examiner has stated that the cause of death for each family member was suspicious. They have not yet determined what the cause of death was but there is speculation that it was either poison or the result of a toxic gas being released inside the home. Carbon monoxide poisoning has already been ruled out. Is this just a freak accident, a one-time murder, or was murdering the family just the start of something larger that is yet to come?"

Clint Barton turned his attention to the television in the living room, where the morning news was being shown. He frowned as he read the headlines scrolling across the bottom of the screen before grabbing his phone to call Natasha.

"Maine?" she asked. "We've seen the news. It's been playing all morning."

"Is this something we're going to investigate?" Clint asked.

"Rogers wants to and Stark started making the preparations to get there but we haven't been officially called in yet," his friend and co-worker replied. "Fury's not sure if we will be or not. He's claiming that this is under the jurisdiction of another agency, under the command of someone named Potter."

Clint closed his eyes. Let it be someone else. Any other Potter but the one that had just left.

"You'd best get back quickly," Natasha said. "Fury is in a strange mood and I doubt it'll get better if you make him wait."

Damn it. It was definitely that Potter.

"I'll be on the first flight to Maine," Clint said. "Stark has a plane waiting for me?"

"It's already at the airport. Say hi to Laura and the kids for me. Bring along some pictures. Everyone wants to see photos."

Clint hung up the phone and walked back into the kitchen. Laura was frowning.

"Another mission? Can't they do this one without you?" she asked. Clint sighed.

"Possibly," he said. "But I have a feeling Lupin's companion is involved." He gestured to the teenager with a thumb. Teddy snorted as he set down his fork and knife, pausing in eating his breakfast.

"That wouldn't surprise me," Teddy said. "Harry has the tendency to attract trouble. If you get the chance, you should ask about his school years."

"I'll see if I can get home after we're done checking things out," Clint promised his wife. "If the magical community is investigating things, there's the possibility that they might not even need the Avengers."

Laura gave him a bitter smile. "If there's one thing I've learned about the Avengers, it's that you're always needed."


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