This fic is one of the most refreshing I had to write lately. I'm a little stuck at the second part of the next chapter, but I'll do my best to finish it soon.
Thanks to:
Guest 1: not really, Harry's interview is his own, Fury was just surprised he'd consider her a threat at all (she is his family after all, biased opinion and all…)
Guest 2: Thanks :D
Jon: Haha, I'll try to update within two weeks of each chapter. No promises…
Guest 4: Thank you :)
No thanks to:
Guest 3: I really hate your kind of reviewers, dropping spoilers when 1-the movie isn't out yet (just because some people like spoilers doesn't mean I want to know them); 2-I pretty much obviously WON'T change the pairing (this is called fanFICTION, I'm nowhere obliged to follow canon –and yes, I am aware that Hawkeye is married in some comics; I just don't care). If you're not happy, there are plenty other good fics out there, I'm not forcing you to read this.
Unbeta-ed work, so all mistakes are mine ^^"
The Widow and the Wizard
6
Dumbledore was stunned. Hagrid stood in his office, looking miserable and depressed by the news he had come to deliver.
"Harry Potter refused to follow you?"
"Aye, professor Dumbledore." The half-giant replied, his voice thick from disappointment. "He used magic to knock me out an' disappeared wit' tha' muggle woman."
The headmaster absentmindedly caressed his beard to put his thoughts in order. He didn't know whether to be more puzzled over the fact the boy had used his magic voluntarily to harm someone or had ran away. This was exactly why he had wanted the boy set in his aunt's care. Hogwarts was supposed to be an outing from the muggle life, a place where he would learn to love and be raised to endorse and fulfill his destiny. He wasn't supposed to run away and be influenced by a third part.
"Did he look healthy? Did he look happy?" he eventually asked. There was still hope…Hagrid's shoulder sagged.
"I think so sir." The half-giant replied quietly. "He looked protective of…" He frowned slightly. "I don' remember 'er name. Redhead woman, nice-lookin' one, sir. And she had one of those muggle weapons wit' her."
Dumbledore nodded. If the boy was healthy and happy, then maybe there was a chance he could persuade him to come around at the right time. Maybe, although the thought made the headmaster cringe within, he could deliberately use Voldemort's dark shadow by deliberately putting this woman in his followers' path to convince Harry to return among them. This sort of action wasn't something he felt comfortable with, and it was just a possibility. If harming a woman, even a muggle, worked to keep the greater good ahead, he'd do it. Still, he hoped he wouldn't have to resort to such extremes if…
"Professor Dumbledore, sir?"
The headmaster blinked. Deep in thought, he had nearly forgotten about Hagrid.
"Have you told anyone about this?" he asked, staring at the half-giant's eyes. A quick Legilimens spell would confirm the answer.
"No professor, I came back to yer office straight."
"Good, good. Thank you my friend," he told Hagrid, smiling softly. "I know you did everything you could do." The half-giant nodded. "Would you mind putting your memories in here?" he added pleasantly, showing the pensieve. "I would like to see what happened for myself."
The half-giant concurred and allowed the old man to copy his memory of the meeting. That was one of the reasons why Dumbledore liked Hagrid. The man was loyal to fault and never questioned his orders. He sometimes had the innocence and reactions of a child with the strength of twenty men, which was quite useful when the headmaster wanted him to let something slip. No matter how loyal the man could be, he was a much worst babbler.
The task done, he thanked Hagrid and showed him the door. Before the half-giant left, he asked:
"Sir, what now?"
The headmaster sighed.
"I suppose it is best to leave Harry where he is. Perhaps he will understand the need to come to Hogwarts at a later date, but I shall not force a child to attend this school, if he is happy elsewhere."
Hagrid nodded in disappointment, and had just turned his back when Dumbledore slowly pulled out his wand from his holster and whispered a discreet 'Obliviate'. The half-giant stilled at the door. The headmaster hid his wand as he turned around to face him.
"Professor Dumbledore, sir?" his voice was puzzled. "Uh…why was I here already?"
He couldn't allow Hagrid to remember the failed attempt to bring Harry in. Another plan was forming into his mind, and he didn't need the half-giant to ruin it by talking to the wrong person. Instead, he redirected him on another task.
"You were giving me a report on your latest conquest, Fluffy," the headmaster lied smoothly. "How is he faring?"
Hagrid's face brightened.
"Oh yea, Fluffy's all right…"
Dumbledore pretended to listen to the man and nodded and hummed at appropriate times. In the meantime, he had a plan to nurture and a couple years to find a way to set it into motion.
SHIELD training base – 2 months later
The stick swung at him fast and precise, but compared to what Natasha had put him through, Harry could only duck with ease. His opponent was bigger and stronger, but he was far more agile and faster and he had learned a long time ago to use his size in his favor. The human body had weak points –knees, elbows, anything that formed a juncture could be fractured and destabilize. In a few quick jumps and ducks and hits, he managed to overpower his opponent and ended with both sticks pointing at his throat.
"Stop! Rest!"
Harry lowered his sticks and stepped backwards, still on his guard, in case the fallen agent decided to play dirty. Two months had gone by since he had agreed to go along with Fury's little spy game. After their meeting, he had a brief talk with Natasha, who assured him he had made the right choice. And then, he hadn't seen her again. Instead, he had been given a series of tests to evaluate his physical strength and IQ. And he had magic to consider. But according to Fury, that would be taken care of another wizard later. Soon. Hopefully.
Harry glanced at Sitwell who was scribbling some notes down.
"Not bad," Sitwell mumbled as he put the pad back in his bag. Harry glanced back at his opponent; a man three times his size sitting on his butt with a now broken ego and two broken sticks in hand. He faintly thought he deserved slightly better than 'not bad'.
"He shouldn't even be able to pull that kind of stuff at his age." The fallen agent shot back, slowly climbing on his feet. "Caught me off guard."
"Doesn't matter, you're still out."
The guy glared at Harry, stood up and left with the remaining of his dignity. The boy glanced at Sitwell.
"What now?" he asked.
The bald man paid no attention to him and checked his phone. This was becoming slightly frustrating.
"Time for lunch. Be ready in ten, I won't wait for you."
Harry hurried to the locker room, cursing the other man's name. If he was found unsupervised and alone in a corridor, he'd be a load of troubles. He changed within five minutes and was waiting for Sitwell before the sixth was over. SHIELD had provided him with clothes picked from a local gym store, according to the brand; Harry doubted they recruited kids like him very often. Sitwell showed up nearly immediately and, after an annoyed stare, walked to the cafeteria. Harry followed, using his well-build patience and trying hard not to punch the man in front of him. The agent was an ass who hated him –which made him wonder just why he had been assigned to him –and had not quaint letting him know. Professionalism be damned, if Sitwell spit another distasteful comment, Harry would strangle him with that expensive tie of his.
They headed together to the cafeteria and each took their trail. Harry went first, picking up stuff fast and moving along before his babysitter followed. He quickly scanned the room and spotted a flash of red in the far end. A quick glance at Sitwell, who was now arguing with the cook about the doubtful quality of the potatoes, and he discreetly picked up his trail and headed there. His eyes hadn't deceived him; Natasha and Clint were both sitting alone at a table against the wall, carefully being ignored by their surroundings. He set his trail on their table, pulled an empty chair nearby and invited himself among them.
"Good morning guys."
Natasha stared at him with a raised eyebrow, although he was glad to notice she looked pleased to see him, and Clint smiled back.
"Morning Harry." For some reason the archer liked him, which was probably another argument against him in Sitwell's eyes; the bald guy and Clint barely tolerated each other. "You've already dumped Sitwell?"
Harry shrugged carelessly. Once he got over the fact Barton had shot Natasha through the shoulder and him through his clothes, he had come to enjoy the man's company. Baton had told them he didn't touch kids, but he hadn't mentioned how much he actually loved them. Even though he knew Harry was definitively a child-spy, it didn't stop him from considering him like a normal eleven year old. While it was sometimes annoying (he liked sweets as much as anyone, but not when fifteen bags of different kind of candy were dumped on his legs because he so-needed to catch up with the sugar highs he never had), Harry liked it as it brought some balance into his life. Barton's behavior allowed him to act like a real kid from time to time instead of a full-grown adult, which was refreshing.
"He was taking his time at the counter. And he didn't stop me from leaving him."
Barton grinned approvingly.
"You enjoy making his life hell."
"He and I don't go along. I'm still waiting for a transfer anytime." Harry paused and gave him the puppy-eyes. "Can't I be put under your supervision till I'm shipped to destination darkness?"
"I can only tell you it's just a matter of days." The archer reassured him."After that, I'm sure you'll get all the fun you deserve. So how was your training today?"
Harry plunged his fork in his spaghetti and bit a mouthful.
"Same old. My opponent underestimated me –again- and I beat him –again."
Natasha made an amused smile at the annoyance in his tone. While he was glad about this winning streak, it didn't mean he was progressing at all. And people tended to hold back against him because of his age.
"They'll learn not to underestimate you sooner or later," she said simply and returned her attention on the archer. "Speaking of which, when will I be cleared?"
Harry didn't take offence at her change of subject, thinking she'd just rather not speak of his progresses in public. He started digging in his plate instead, eating his noodles contently…until a small detail made him pause. Natasha had been given a uniform alike his, although her top was sleeveless under her vest, and he could spot the thin line of the strap of her bra. As he recognized the lacy red kind she'd rarely used, he lost his appetite and stared at his food sadly. There was only one reason why Natasha would wear fancy lingerie.
The room quietened slightly when another man irrupted in the cantina. Harry recognized one of the wizards who had been standing in the room during Fury's interview. His long coat flapped as he crossed the room with long strides and headed straight on their table. He stopped inches away from Barton, nodded at both adult, and turned his attention on Harry.
"Harry Potter?" the agent/wizard asked him. Harry glanced at Barton and nodded carefully. The newcomer extended a hand: "Agent Renald Gale. I will be your…supervising officer from now on. Are you done with your lunch?"
The question was pretty much obvious, since his plate was nearly untouched. Harry sighed and stood up.
"I'm good sir. See you guys later?"
Barton, in an encouraging gesture, raised his hand for a high-five (sometimes Harry wondered who was the child between the two of them). He hit back and followed the agent. Out of the corner of the eye, he spotted Sitwell staring at them with an outraged expression on his face. Harry smirked and waved his hand at him before stepping out of the cantina. Good riddance.
"We are a sub-category of what SHIELD calls the 0-8-4 division." Gale spoke as they walked through the corridors. The man had cast a soundproof spell, making their conversation inaudible for those around. Harry took note to ask how it worked at later date. "The Magical Investigators Division. The MID, in short. Director Fury might be the Director, only we are in charge of the magical interference. Since you are a wizard, you can't obviously join the regular agents, so you will be trained magically by one of our members." He paused and eyed him with a hint of curiosity. "Although I've been told you favor swords."
It sounded like a question, but as Harry hadn't been told to speak, he remained silent. Gale, misunderstanding his lack of answer, went on:
"A blade is not a bad thing, actually. You've performed wandless magic before; instead of using a wand, you could use your weapon as a substitute. But back to where I was; you will remain on base with us and alternate between magic and muggle training. Depending on your progress, you will be assigned into a field team for observation. Take note than any case might turn badly. A simple affair could degenerate fast." Harry nodded heavily, remembering all too well his first massive failure. "Even as an observer, you will be expected to know how to defend yourself in case things turn bad. Are we in agreement?"
"Yes sir." Harry replied simply.
"Any questions?"
"To whom may I speak of my work, sir?" he asked. "My mentor is a…muggle, but she is aware of magic and works for SHIELD too."
The MID Agent frowned.
"I assume you speak of Agent Romanoff? The clause of confidentiality applies to any agent, muggle or not. Your cases are not to be spoken of. You may mention your personal progresses and train with them, but REDACTED is the key word here. Understood?"
Harry nodded solemnly and realized they had arrived at a door. Gale placed his hand flat against a sensor and the panel slide upwards and gave way to a very white room. Literally. All four walls were painted white even the furniture –a drawer, a desk and a sort of white column in the middle of the room- was immaculately white. Harry had to blink a few times to get used to the nearly unnatural brightness. He followed the older agent in, a bit worried that he'd dirty the place with his mere presence.
"On my say, grab the Transferer." Gale said, nodding towards the column. Harry stepped closer and observed the thing; about a meter high, sculpted in classical Greek style, with a sort of fluffy buzzer on top. As he wondered how exactly he was supposed to hold it, two branches grew out of the top, in the shape of bicycle handles. Well, that answered it.
The lights of the room suddenly blinked and Gale gave the order. Harry took the handles and felt a pull in his belly and his whole body yanked backwards. He fell on his back, nearly knocking himself against a wall, and it took him a few moments to realize his surroundings had changed. Instead of the immaculate white, the walls were now painted in various colors of red and white with some touches of blue. Flags hung along the four walls, representing a multitude of countries with a symbol underneath.
'Welcome to the Magial Investigation Department' a disembodied voice spoke. Harry blinked and stared at Gale, who was still standing next to him.
"This is our headquarters," he explained and headed to the door. The boy scrambled to his feet to follow, keeping his eyes wide open.
The corridor they entered as they exited the room felt a lot more like magic: this time, moving portraits and statues watched as they walked by, greeting them with a salute or a nod. Dozens of identical doors opened and closed as agents came in and out, all bearing the inscription MID somewhere on their uniform. Harry was fascinated.
"As long as you are under training, you will only be granted access to a certain number of rooms, such as –obviously –training rooms, cantina and dorms." Gale explained. "I am the liaison between the muggle department and the magical one, so I won't have much time to teach you the basics. Agent Annam will be in charge. When she will deem you have reached an acceptable level, I will test you for field work."
He paused in front of one of the ordinary doors and pushed it open. Harry walked inside a huge dojo where four agents were practicing martial arts, a couple others casting spells at each other inside a blue bubble while an older woman barked orders. When Gale asked for his opinion, Harry replied instantly:
"I think I'm going to love this. When do we start?"
Natasha was in her personal quarters when Harry sought her out. He couldn't talk much about what he had learnt today, but after seeing her at lunch, he had an overwhelming need to speak to her. Given that he had been transferred to another department and was given more liberties to wander around the muggle base, all he had to do was ask where his mentor was staying to get hold of her. Luckily, she answered on his third knock and let him in immediately. Or he made his way in without waiting for her permission; his excitement blurred his thinking a little.
"This whole MID thing is amazing!" he blurted as soon as Natasha closed behind, a curious eyebrow raised at him. "It's got everything I need to practice, a huge library if I need documentation…an agent will personally supervise my classes, and they know a swordsman who's willing to teach me-"
And he went on babbling on his upcoming program, keeping the words 'magic' and 'wizards' out of the conversation. The redhead sat on her bed and listened as he paced around her small space, waving his hands and arms around as he described his new environment, quarters, and pretty much everything that went through his head.
"Are you sure you can talk to me about this?" she asked when he stopped to breath. Harry shrugged.
"Agent Gale said its fine as long as I keep the important stuff out. And I…" he hesitated a brief moment before adding quietly: "I just wanted you to know. You're not…it doesn't bother you, right?"
No matter what happened, he would never forget that Natasha was the one who pulled him out of his previous, miserable life. He hoped she wouldn't push him away now that he would be following someone else's training.
"It's nice to see a familiar face," she replied with a small smile, and Harry felt relieved. Until he saw the edge of the red lace again peeking out from under her top. And his good mood immediately deflated. Natasha noted the change immediately. "What is it Harry?"
The boy gave her a pleading look.
"Do you really need to kill him?"
Natasha blinked in surprise.
"Kill who?"
"Agent Barton."
For a few seconds, she stared at him in complete puzzlement.
"Harry, why do you think I am planning to kill Agent Barton?"
Harry stared at his feet and swallowed hard.
"I…uh…I… your red lingerie. You're wearing your red lingerie. And I saw the way you looked at him at lunchtime. You always put that kind of lingerie when you're out for a kill."
Natasha's expression faded into something more serious.
"Harry, I…I wasn't going to…" she took a deep breath and went on: "We –I owe Barton a debt. He agreed to bring us in, in spite of what we nearly did to him."
The implication turned his cheeks into a delicate pink.
"So you were going to…eh…thank him like that?"
"Everyone wants something," she replied with a shrug. "Clint Barton is no different. I just have to figure out what."
She spoke casually, but something in her eyes betrayed a slight annoyance. Harry had to think a few seconds to realize what she was understating.
"He refused you?" he asked, agape. "No guy has ever refused you before!"
Natasha smiled amusingly.
"Make up your mind kid, are you upset or offended?" Harry stared at the floor as he felt his whole face burn. "I guess he's a little bit different." She admitted, and Harry could tell she was intrigued. The last time she had worn this expression was when he had showed interest in swordsmanship. He vaguely wondered whether he should feel jealous or not of her interest in someone else. Then again, Barton and he had nothing to compare. "Tell me something Harry, if I was intending to kill Barton, would you have told someone?"
Harry blinked in surprise. The thought hadn't even crossed his mind.
"Uh…no? I'd assume you had a good reason." The sentence felt like a question in his own ears. To his surprise, Natasha looked a little bit disappointed.
"You shouldn't…Harry, if I ever make a decision you don't like, something that sounds wrong to you, for any reason it is, stop me. I wasn't a good person for a long time. I'm still not quite a good person." She inhaled sharply. "Don't follow me blindly. You don't-" she paused and blinked, as if remembering something. Her voice softened slightly and she finished: "You don't owe me anything."
"Okay." Harry replied, a bit uneasy. He didn't like the change in her tone, so he asked, halfway to change subject, halfway out of genuine curiosity: "So what are you up to? If you can or want to talk about it?"
Much to his relief, Natasha invited him to sit on the only chair on the room, and the two resumed to catching up the things they had missed.
I wasn't sure how to end this last part, so it was a bit quickly wrapped up, sorry about that ^^"
Next Chapter Preview:
"You were made a Horcrux; a receptacle of the piece of the soul of a dark wizard, most likely Voldemort's." he explained. "A Horcrux is a mean to gain immortality, as one's piece of soul survives, one can never die." He paused and stared at the teen straight in the eye. "Your biological parents' murder is still alive, and apparently, you are keeping him alive."
Harry swallowed heavily. That didn't sound like good news at all.
"Can't you take it out?" he asked calmly. "I don't want to carry a piece of Voldemort in my body."
Gale winced and Harry had a bad feeling about this.
"That's the tricky part. For a Horcrux to be destroyed, either the creator must regret his action from the depth of his soul, or the container must be damaged above repair. As I doubt that man would ever regret his actions, you should…uh…"
Harry knew what the older man wanted to tell without actually saying it.
"I need to die, is that it?"
