Two chapters in four days. Aren't you people ridiculously lucky? :P Please show your appreciation by reviewing.

Quick note: the Arab Spring came several years early due to a number of factors, a lot of them tying back to Iron Man's interventions in Afghanistan and the Middle East, the return of Captain America and the battle of New York. And Facebook, Youtube and Twitter were also invented early. Actually… for the aid of comprehension, imagine it's the present day, just set in 2006. The dates will be somewhat important later on, but not of world shattering significance.

Harry disappeared on a regular basis, over the following few days, and it took some considerable effort to find him on the part of Ron and Hermione. Until that is, Fred and George decided to show their little brother and fellow apprentice some kindness and produced a map. A very particular map.

"With this," Fred said.

"We can see –"

"Everyone –"

"In the school –"

"Is. At all times."

"Why did you never tell me?" Ron complained, eyes wide. "I'm your brother."

"Well, brother dearest –"

"We have to have –"

"Some secrets."

Ron scowled at them.

"Fred, George, this map could be immensely dangerous! What if a dark wizard got hold of it?" Hermione demanded. "You should turn it in to Professor McGonagall at once."

"Yeah."

"Not happening."

"Which?" Hermione asked, eyes narrowed.

"Either of the above," both twins said in unison.

"Besides, Hermione –"

"We're giving it –"

"To its rightful owner –"

"Soon."

"Oh? And who might that be?" Hermione asked, hands on hips.

"Harry, of course."

"Why would it be his?" Ron asked, confused.

"Because his dad made it," Fred said cheerfully.

"Along with the rest of the Marauders."

"Harry's dad was a Marauder?" Ron asked, eyes wide.

"Yup. He was Prongs."

"Told us himself."

"That's the only way –"

"He could have known about the map."

"Besides, Hermione –"

"It's password protected –"

"And only shows its password –"

"If it likes you."

"And it's pretty clever."

"It decided it liked us."

"So that's how we know it," they finished, in disturbing unison.

Hermione opened her mouth to object, but Ron overrode her. "Weren't we going to look for Harry?"

"Oh, right, yes," Hermione said, a little distracted. She glared at the twins. "This isn't over, you know."

"Sure it isn't," they drawled.

Hermione huffed, but otherwise said nothing.

Harry was, in fact, at the top of the Astronomy Tower with a telescope, intently training it on the night sky.

"Harry?" Hermione said.

Harry turned and smiled. He was wrapped up warm, wearing thick jeans and a large amount of Avengers memorabilia. Thor themed hoodie. It featured the God of Thunder in full armour, thrusting his glowing hammer skyward as lightning forked around him, while wearing a particularly heroic expression that, as many such expressions do, made him look vaguely constipated. He was also wearing an emerald green scarf with the words 'Hulk Smash!' embroidered in white on it, two gold and red gloves with blue-white circles on the palms – Iron Mitts, as Tony had taken to calling them – and a beanie hat in green and gold with the words, 'I aim to misbehave', written around the brim and a chibi style Loki on the front.

One might wonder where merchandise for the other two Avengers was. The answer was that his belt had a SHIELD insignia buckle. Even in merchandising, for spies, old habits die hard.

"Oh, hi guys," he said, cheerfully, cheeks red with cold. But his glasses covered eyes were dancing with excitement as the waxing moon reflected off them.

"What are you doing up here, Harry? Curfew's in five minutes!" Hermione admonished.

"I was looking at Asgard," Harry said.

"Harry… Asgard's in another dimension," Hermione said slowly. "You can't see it through a telescope."

Harry grinned. "That's what I thought. Then Jane explained to me that while Asgard was in another dimension, like all the other eight realms, the portals between realms used to be always open. Basically, Asgard and the other realms were like bubbles attached to our universe, right?"

Hermione nodded, fascinated.

"Well, eventually they were sealed off, and you had to use the Bifrost to get from realm to realm. Before, it was just quicker and easier, like apparating somewhere instead of walking," Harry continued. "And since they were so far away, they're still visible through Hubble… and, since Asgard is so bright, from here." He stepped away from the telescope and grinned. "Look for yourself."

Hermione obligingly looked, and after a moment, gasped. "Whoa," she breathed.

"Impressive, isn't it?" Harry said.

"Not impressive, amazing! We're looking at a different dimension!" Hermione breathed, sounding utterly entranced.

"And I'm from there. Or half of me is. Hermione, guys, I'm not even from this universe," Harry said slowly.

"A lot to take in, huh?" Ron said, looking sympathetic. He couldn't really imagine being so… different from the people around him. Except when he had gone to Avengers Tower and New York, being astounded by, for once, being in the minority. Still, it wasn't something he'd had much experience with.

Harry nodded heavily. "I mean, I was fine with magic. Magic was, and is, amazing, don't get me wrong. I wouldn't trade it for anything."

He paused, an expression flitted across his face, then he added, quietly, "Make that almost anything."

"What would you trade magic for?" Ron asked, astounded.

"Ron!" Hermione hissed, turning away from the telescope.

"What?"

Hermione sighed and rolled her eyes dramatically. "His mother," she hissed.

"Oh. Oooh. Right, sorry mate. I can understand that," Ron said.

Harry nodded vaguely. "Right," he said, then stripped off a glove and examined his hand, as if he expected it to catch fire, or shoot webbing at any moment. "I mean… being a wizard was one thing. I wasn't a freak, I had an explanation for why I could do all the weird stuff. But I was still human. Now…"

He trailed off.

"Now, half of me isn't and never has been human. Do they even let half-humans into Hogwarts?"

"Yes," Hermione said, before anyone else could answer. "In Hogwarts: A History, it stipulates that students must be at least half human. There have been students that were half giant, half goblin and even half faerie – though I think that last was something else, because the only fairies that exist are the ones in Fantastic Beasts and Where to Find Them."

Suddenly, the wind whistled around them, and just for a moment, it sounded like the sound leaves would make if they could laugh.

They all shivered. And with good reason, not just because it was cold. Because Hermione was dead wrong about the Fae. Not that she knew it.

"Anyway, Harry, even if that wasn't true, half the Wizarding World worships your uncle. And your dad too. You're not going to get kicked out of Hogwarts," Hermione said.

"Yeah, Harry –"

"Dumbledore would –"

"Never allow it."

"And no one crosses Dumbledore," Ron added.

"Exactly," the twins agreed, clapping Ron on the shoulders. They paused. "Except for…"

"Our esteemed lord and master?"

"Indeed."

Harry snorted. "No one crosses Uncle Loki."

Having seen him in action, he could well say that no matter how powerful Dumbledore was – and from what Loki and Steve had said, his powers were vast, ranking him in the top ten known superhumans on the planet – Loki was a cut or ten above. One did not become god of magic by collecting bottle caps, and from what little had been revealed, his reservoirs of power were nothing short of incredible.

It had taken twenty years to build Durmstrang, wards and all. Loki had built Hogwarts. It had taken around twenty minutes. Wards and all.

Harry sighed. "I wasn't worried about being cut off from Hogwarts." Well, actually, he had, just a tiny bit, but he wasn't going to mention that. "I was worried…"

"About what?" Hermione asked.

"About being different. It's bad enough being 'the Boy-Who-Lived' and all that trouble with being a Parseltongue last year," Harry said, slumping against the battlements. "It made me… different. And I don't want to be different, I don't want to be the freak that everyone points out and whispers about, I just want… I just want to be me. To be Harry."

"It bothers you that much?" Hermione asked, surprised.

Harry nodded, looking a bit miserable. "I mean, look at my dad and my uncle, they're over a thousand years old and don't look a day over twenty five. My granddad is at least five thousand years old. Five thousand. At least." He looked sadly at them all. "Chances are, I'm going to outlive you all."

That was indeed a sobering thought. Then Hermione spoke, reciting from memory.

"'I am a Jew. Hath not a Jew eyes? Hath not a Jew hands, organs, dimensions, senses, affections, passions; fed with the same food, hurt with the same weapons, subject to the same diseases, healed by the same means, warmed and cooled by the same winter and summer as a Christian is? If you prick us do we not bleed? If you tickle us do we not laugh? If you poison us do we not die?'"

She looked at Harry. "Shylock, in the Merchant of Venice. It's a Shakespeare play, and the thing about Shakespeare… the thing about Shakespeare is that he knew people. He understood them on a very fundamental level. And what he's saying here is that in the end, you're still like us. Asgardians eat, drink, sleep, get ill, even die. Look at your dad. He behaves just like, well, an ordinary human." She paused. "If you ignore his complete inability to use the microwave."

That startled a laugh out of Harry.

"And you're still half human, anyway, even if that still bothers you."

"Yeah, mate. To us, you're still Harry. Our friend. Nothing's really changed," Ron said. He grinned. "If you'd changed that much, you wouldn't be moping about for no good reason, would you?"

That got another laugh, this one rueful, from Harry. "You're right," he said, and yawned. "And that's me being human and needing some sleep."

Hermione's hands suddenly flew to her mouth. "Oh my god! It's ages past curfew."

"Ah, Hermione dearest –"

"Aren't you forgetting?"

"We have the Marauders map."

Harry's head turned sharply. "The what map?"

"The Marauders Map," Sirius said, grinning. "The secret to our success."

"So," Tony said, "You're saying that when you guys were… fifteen, sixteen?"

Sirius nodded. They were sitting in the general living room of the Penthouse of Avengers Tower. Sirius had arrived a few days ago after he had left Asgard due to one prank too many. This prank had involved itching powder in certain people's garments. Amora and the Executioner had been two major victims, but could not claim that it affected only them, as very few escaped.

Odin had been targeted – but not his wife - but as he himself had noted, he was the man who had raised Loki and Thor. A few stern looks and a lecture were all that resulted, but Odin had recommended Sirius be removed from Asgard before Amora or the Executioner removed him from life.

Sirius had been moved to the Tower, and had spent the last few days sampling Tony's scotch, flirting with Pepper – until Tony started twitching and Pepper gently let him down – Natasha – who raised a silent eyebrow, then said that she was too old for him in a deadpan tone of voice that could have been a truth or a lie – and Darcy, who had flirted back enthusiastically, on the justification that once they'd got him fattened up and healthy again, he would be 'a total hottie'. It helped that he no longer looked like an underfed scarecrow thanks to a lot of good Asgardian food and the ministrations of Asgards finest healers. Now, he merely looked a bit malnourished, something that was changing fast.

He and Tony had, predictably and to Thor and Steve's worry, got on like a house on fire. The fact Loki also got on with him went without saying.

"You managed to create a map that was password protected, had a intelligent security system that responded to attempted intrusions and could track anyone and everyone who was in the building. And didn't need to be updated," Tony said, tone half awed, half disbelieving.

"And this was in 1989. At the latest."

"Yup."

Tony pouted, as if annoyed that he hadn't created something similar at that age.

"Oh, don't pout, Tony," Loki said, wandering through with three mugs of coffee, causing both Tony and Sirius to perk up. "Hogwarts is deeply magical and sentient. Think of her as something like a magical JARVIS, but without the ability to communicate and manipulate her environment to any great extent. She liked them and consequently gave them a few nudges in the right direction. After that, all they had to do was tap into her ambient magic and wards. The map is essentially conduit to Hogwarts, if you will, a smaller thing connected to the greater whole."

"Sort of like JARVIS in my suits," Tony said. "Right?"

"Very like," Loki said, then a wicked smile crossed his face. "You know that Hogwarts expressed some considerable interest in JARVIS? She has never come across a genius loci like herself."

"Genius what?"

"A spirit that's tied to a particular place," Sirius explained.

"JARVIS is an AI, not a spirit."

"A disembodied intelligence. The fact that he happens to live in circuitry rather than stone and mortar is an academic difference," Loki said, tone dismissive. The smirk returned. "Why, Tony, if I did not mistake her feelings, she harbours… what is the phrase? Oh yes. A crush. On JARVIS."

Tony stared at him, jaw hanging loose. "JARVIS? What do you think of this?"

"I think that I would like to communicate with Hogwarts, sir, if Loki is able to facilitate such a thing. It would be pleasant to converse with a being who has similar experiences to myself," JARVIS said.

"… Did you just ask Loki to set you up on a date with a sentient castle?"

JARVIS' tones were pleased, but a little embarrassed. "I believe I did, sir. It is only polite to inquire with her creator first."

Sirius was grinning. "So, Tony," he said, in the tones of a practiced shit stirrer. "Your 'son' is going on a date with Loki's 'daughter'. How do you feel?"

Tony looked at his empty glass, as if willing it to fill. Unfortunately, Tony's many talents did not extend to Alcokinesis. "I need another drink."

Loki started laughing, a rich, resonant tenor laugh that echoed through the Tower, then snapped his fingers. Tony's glass was abruptly full of scotch. While Tony's talents did not extend to Alcokinesis, Loki's extended a lot further.

At that moment, Thor entered the room, followed by Pepper, and Tony spotted an opportunity to change the subject.

"So, Thor, how was Harry conceived?" he asked. Thor nearly choked on his drink. Loki nearly choked as well, because he'd started laughing.

"The normal way, or so I'd imagine," Pepper said, giving Tony a quelling look, which he ignored.

"Tell him, brother, or I will," Loki said.

Thor stared at him. "You were watching?" he cried in shock, horror and mostly, embarrassment.

"No, I was keeping an eye on you, then vacated the area when clothes started being ripped," Loki said mildly.

"Ripped clothes?" Clint asked, wandering over. "I have to hear this."

Bruce had paused by the door and Darcy and Jane had entered the room, the former grinning, the latter curious, followed by Natasha. "Trust me," Sirius said. "You should hear it."

Thor looked somewhat beleaguered and noticed that all the Avengers and their associates were gravitating to him as if summoned.

"Go on," Tony urged.

"He doesn't have to," Pepper said.

"Then I'll just have to imagine it," Tony said, tone somewhat petulant.

Thor paled. This prospect was worse. By far. He sighed. "Fine. Lily and I were dressing up for a Halloween party. She was going as a sexy witch -"

Sirius hummed his agreement. "Fantastic breasts," he said dreamily, then yelped as Natasha clipped him round the head.

"You deserved that," Thor said mildly.

"Meh," Sirius replied, shrugging.

"And I hadn't changed, saying," Thor began. He sighed. "That I was a sexy wizard."

Tony wolfwhistled and Darcy nodded. "You were one nice piece of salty goodness," she said.

"And then... since my shirt was old and thin, Lily... tore it off. And, well... we never got to the party," Thor muttered.

Tony and Clint were laughing. Sirius was grinning. "Those two were at it like rabbits," he said. "Not unlike him and Jane, when they hit their stride."

"Seriously?" Darcy asked, looking at her more studious friend in a new light, while said studious friend looked out the window, blushing slightly and seemed to be trying to distract herself by reciting Pi.

Sirius nodded. "Every single night and my room is next door. I hear everything. Everything."

Clint winced. "Hard luck."

"How many orgasms per night?" Tony asked, absently ducking a swat from Pepper.

"And what's the ratio from Jane's orgasms to Thor's, because it had better be at least fifty fifty," Darcy added.

Sirius sat back with the gleeful expression of a man who has just found that he is sitting on a goldmine of embarrassing information and blackmail material and is going to milk it for all it is worth.

In summation, it was fortunate that Thor was not easily embarrassed. It was unfortunate that Sirius was very good at embarrassing people.

Who are the Avengers?

The Age of the Superhero: how the advent of superheroes has changed the world forever

'More things in heaven and earth': a study of the implications of the Chitauri invasion

Reaching for the Heavens: How Doctor Jane Foster is building a road to the Realm Eternal

Earth's Mightiest Heroes: Our Defenders

O Captain, My Captain: What we know about the new Captain America

America Rules The Waves (And Everything Else): how the Avengers give America influence not seen since the fall of the British Empire0

Who are S.H.I.E.L.D?

The New Paradigm

Bows and Bullets: analysis of who Hawkeye and Black Widow are and who they work for

The Man in the Iron Mask: the new Tony Stark

Power Behind the Throne no more: Potts steps out of Stark's shadow in style

Iron Men: Stark and Rhodes blaze a trail across the globe

Mysteries of the Cold War: Who Was the Winter Soldier?

Licensed to Kill: the War Machine gets his hands dirty in Libya

Revealed! Former Circus trickshot archer Clint Barton the secret identity of Hawkeye

Gadaffi Grabbed: Avengers collar North African Dictator

The Avengers and the Arab Spring: Dictatorships drop like dominos following intervention in Libya

Pax Avengers: Who dares cross the new power players in global politics?

The Mandarin: a response to the Avengers?

A SHIELD or a HAMMER? Who commands the Avengers and to what purpose?

Cry Havoc And Let Slip the Avengers

Heroes Without Borders: 'the Avengers are not part of the US Armed Forces' states US Secretary of Defence

The 21st Century: This is when everything changes

A Rainbow Bridge: Jane Foster opens the gates to a wider universe

Under the Star Spangled Suit: Who is the new Captain America?

The Invincible Iron Man: Stark goes from strength to strength following the Chitauri invasion

Gods, Monsters and Men of Magic

A New World in My View

Gods Among Us: the Mighty Thor speaks out

Controversy abounds as Loki joins Avengers 'as probationary member'

A Nefarious Shadow: the Italian Count who is taking over Europe

The Magnificent Seven: the Avengers crush criminal Count in Roman Coliseum

Nefaria by name, nefarious by nature: how the Avengers defeated the apparently unstoppable superhuman aristocrat

Clash of the Titans: Hulk and Thor take on the mysterious Juggernaut in earthshaking duel

The Could Have Been King: Loki talks New York, the Chitauri, regret and redemption

'I have red in my ledger. And I want to rub it out': Loki on his change of heart and journey from supervillain to superhero

Demigods among us: who is the mysterious Thorson?

Asgard's Secret: Who is the Mother of Thor's son and where is she now?

Europe's Strong Man: the inexorable rise of Victor Von Doom

Latveria Experiences Economic Surge

Spate of attacks across Europe spark fears of HYDRA's return

Fury idly ran his eye over the collection of newspapers, magazines and periodicals that chronicled the exploits and reactions to those exploits of the Avengers. The reactions had been wide and varied. Some reacted with fear, some with hope and some with glee.

Of course, he hadn't collected these for fun. No, they were homework. Good thing the person they were for was a fast reader. Pity there hadn't been more good stuff on Captain America. Most of it was how he was the father of some random fame seeker's baby or having a gay affair with Tony Stark. Fury snorted. Like that was ever going to happen.

A tall, lean caucasian man apparently in early middle age walked into the room. His hair was black, his temples were white, and a small smile adorned his lips.

"How's he doing, Doctor?" Fury asked.

The smile faded. "The same as ever. I've told you, Nicholas, he'll wake when he's ready."

"Well, that had better be soon," Fury said.

The Doctor eyed him. "Oh?"

Fury nodded. He knew he could trust this man. "An old Soviet installation that can be traced back to the Red Room was ransacked recently. My informants in Gringotts tell me that money is moving around the old pureblood accounts. Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy have been appearing on the European Wizarding Society circuit a lot more recently. Not only that, but a three of my best agents went missing. We found them, torn to shreds. They died on the night of the full moon," he said. He folded his arms. "Something is going on, and the old Death Eaters are at the heart of it. Forgive me for wanting my good eye back to keep an eye on them."

"The Red Room… Russian super soldier and spy program, correct?"

"That is so, Doctor."

"That is bad," the unnamed Doctor murmured. "Omega Red, one of the later Black Widows, Red Guardian…" he paused. "You're not afraid of them."

"Worst comes to the worst, I'll sic Logan on Omega Red and Barton and Romanov on the Widow. The old Guardian, Shostakov, is not an issue. I killed him myself," Fury said, and shook his head. "Damn shame. Man would have been a good Agent." He glanced at his conversation partner. "No. I'm not afraid of them."

"What about… him?"

Fury was silent for a long time. He knew who was being referred to. "Anyone who is not afraid of that man is a fool, and fools don't stand a chance against someone like him," he said eventually. "There are four people in the world good enough to beat him at his own game. Three of them are on the Avengers. But I'm not sure how highly I'd rate their chances."

"That's where the Shadow Initiative comes in."

Fury whipped around sharply. The man smiled. Fury shook his head. "You're dangerous, Strange. Very dangerous."

"And on your side."

Fury snorted. "No you aren't. You're on your own side. That side just happens be next to mine for now." He glanced at the other man. "You gonna come out of hiding any time soon?"

"Not yet. It is not my time."

"Well, you know yourself best," Fury said, knowing that it wasn't worth pushing the man.

"Indeed… oh, and Nicholas?"

"Yes?"

"Send Clint Barton to Hogwarts. Soon. Also, please give my regards to the other Nicholas. And his lovely wife too."

"I'd ask how you know about that, but I'd just get some cryptic bullshit for answer, right?"

The man chuckled. "Now you're getting it," he said. He disappeared slowly, leaving behind nothing but the smile.

Fury rolled his eyes. "Jackass always has to have the last word," he muttered. He looked over at the single bed and its single occupant. Machines beeped and hissed. "I hope you wake up soon," he said. "Because I'm going to need my good eye for what's coming next."

It was the day before the penultimate day of term, and Harry was wandering towards the Common Room when he was suddenly flanked by Fred and George.

"Ah, Harry!"

"Just the demigod we wanted to see."

"We have a proposition for you."

While Harry had not been hanging around with the Avengers for long, there is something about Tony Stark that is infectious. "Sorry guys. But you really aren't my type."

Both twins looked half offended, half amused.

"Harry, Harry –"

"Harry."

"We weren't talking about that."

"We were talking about a prank."

Harry perked up.

"Any ideas?"

Harry looked thoughtful. Ever since he'd discovered that he was the son of one of the infamous Marauders, he'd felt… urges. To cause chaos. Of course, being the nephew and apprentice of the God of Mischief helped in that regard.

"It has to be big," he said slowly. "Really big. Marauders scale. And Christmas themed." He rubbed his chin. "So… ice. Lots and lots of ice."

"Maybe ice skating," Ron suggested, having caught up with the three. "Like on the pond at home."

"Students ice skating?" Harry asked.

The Twins shook their heads. "No…" Then they looked at each other and grinned.

"I think –"

"That we –"

"Can do better –"

"Than that."

Ron and Harry shared looks. Ron looked a little nervous. Harry was grinning.

"Do tell," he said.

"Well," Fred began. "It's like this…"

And so, the next morning dawned, and as students filed down to breakfast, they noticed certain suits of armour were missing. When they got to breakfast, they found that the House Tables had been arranged so that there was a large open space in the middle of the Great Hall. And it was covered in ice. There were convenient signs saying 'Don't Step on the ice', enforced by banishing charms. Most of the teachers looked suspicious. Professor Lupin was hiding a small smile. Professor Dumbledore looked like he couldn't wait for the fun to begin. Loki was outright smirking, being present because he had given his four apprentices a lesson on wandless magic the previous evening and decided to stay overnight, before hopping over to the nearby airport to play taxi for the Avengers when they arrived the next day.

Then, as everyone had sat down, the doors to the Great Hall slammed open, and a large group of suits of armour came charging in. The first noticeable thing about them was that they had been clothed in stereotypical medieval Lincoln green clothing, with very tight tights on their legs and their helmets had been transfigured. Into hats. With feathers in.

The second noticeable thing was that they were all carrying bows and quivers full of sucker arrows.

The third noticeable thing was that as soon as they stepped onto the ice, their boots turned into ice skates.

They skated, in perfect formation, to the middle of the hall, where they all bowed. Meanwhile, JARVIS' scrupulously polite tones rang out over the hall, thanks to the twins putting a Sonorus charm on the speakers. "Ladies, gentlemen… Purebloods."

That got a laugh.

"I am proud to present to you the very first performance of Robin Hood, the Wizarding World edition, On Ice," JARVIS continued. "Please enjoy the show."

Loki was grinning. Professor McGonagall had raised a single thin eyebrow.

Then the suits began to sing.

We're men, we're men in tights.

We roam around the forest looking for fights.

We're men, we're men in tights.

We rob from the purebloods and give to the muggles, that's right!

We may look like sissies, but watch what you say or else we'll put out your lights!

We're men, we're men in tights,

Always on guard defending the people's rights.

That got a few laughs, especially when, every now and then, one of them would absently smack one of the others in the face, knocking it over with an almighty crash. All this did was have the armour continue to sing from the floor, gamely kicking it's legs in the dance moves.

What got even bigger laughs was the impromptu can-can.

Suddenly, Professor Snape walked in. He looked somewhat scruffy, as if he'd been waylaid.

The music stopped, and the suits of armour paused, and, as one, turned to stare at Snape. Even the one's on the floor stood up once more.

JARVIS' voice rang out once more. "And now for our special guest star: Professor Severus Snape as the Sheriff of Nottingham."

Before Snape had time to do a single thing, Peeves swooped down behind him and pushed him onto the ice, cackling. As he fell face first onto the ice, he registered four things. One, the suits were staring at him. Two, he now had ice skates instead of shoes. Three, padded barriers had gone up around the ice. Four, Peeves had pinched his wand.

He slowly stood. Then the cry went up from the suits of armour. "GET THE SHERIFF!"

Snape did what any sensible person would do. Get up and skate for his life. To the tune of the Benny Hill theme.

By now, most of the students were in stitches, Hagrid was guffawing loudly, Dumbledore looked amused, Loki was cackling with the best of them, Filch looked vindictively amused and McGonagall was caught halfway between horror and amusement.

As it turned out, Snape was a very quick learner, and he scrambled around the impromptu ice rink at remarkable speed, expression half terrified, half furious, as the suits followed him around in a neat line, always keeping close enough to encourage him to move faster. And occasionally firing sucker arrows, with dubious accuracy.

Finally, they caught him, and, holding the wriggling, humiliated Professor, they neatly skated up to the staff table and faced Loki. Their apparent leader went down on one knee.

"My Lord! We have caught the Sheriff! What shall we do with him?" it asked.

Loki was grinning. "Well done. My brother 'Robin' will be very pleased," he said, glancing over at an amused Harry, an amused but nervous Ron, a scandalised looking Hermione and the grinning Twins. "As for what to do with him, now that is an interesting question," he murmured, voice easily carrying. He turned to Professor Dumbledore. "I suggest we pass judgement to the Lord of this place. How find you, sir?"

"I think…" Dumbledore said. "That he should be taken to the Dungeons. He will be more comfortable there. His breakfast can be delivered later." He raised his voice. "But not before Peeves returns his wand."

Peeves, floating high above, swooped down and pouted. "Oh, Headmaster sir, must I?" he whined. "Peeves only wanted to have some fun."

"Fun has been had, Peeves. Wand, please. Quickly now," Dumbledore said firmly.

Sulking, Peeves handed over the wand and floated down to Snape, who sneered at him. "What do you want, you irritating excuse for a ghost?" he asked.

"Just this," Peeves said, and reached out to grab Snape's nose. "GOT YER CONK!" Then he zoomed off, cackling.

Snape shook off the suits of armour and looked as if he ever found out the perpetrators of this act, they would beg for something so sweet as having their heart cut out with a spoon. This expression was not helped by the fact that the last one blew a loud raspberry at him, breaking the silence and inspiring another wave of laughter.

He stalked out in silence, and as he got close to the doors, JARVIS broke in with, "Please give a round of applause for the stellar performances from our stars and most particularly our guest star, Professor Severus Snape." Thunderous applause went up and once it died down, JARVIS added, "If you wish to watch again, DVD's and magical photographs will be produced and sold for a reasonable price within three days. All profits go to either St Mungo's Hospital or S.O.A.P, the Society of Accursed Persons. Thank you. Please enjoy what remains of your breakfast and have a Merry Christmas."

The Avengers (sans Sirius, who had wanted to come, but, it was decided had done enough traveling recently, and was looking a little ill. Also, the warrant for his recapture had not been rescinded) arrived that afternoon, as the school term ended and Snape salvaged his dignity and considered that one, Harry was turning into his father – damn him – and two, the small mercy was that this had happened at the end of term, rather than the beginning.

Clint had been planning not to come and to do some Christmas shopping, but strangely, Fury had insisted. So they duly flew over in the Stark Industries jet, and Thor and Loki, the latter of whom having been waiting for them, teleported the rest over – Loki having rectified the mistakes in Thor's teleportation or rather, 'apparition', technique. As he complained, "Teleportation is so simple!" Then he shook his head and muttered, "Leave it to humans to screw it up."

This had started a lively debate about the failings of humanity and lack thereof that had lasted up until the castle, whereupon the Avengers were greeted by Professor Dumbledore and Professor McGonagall.

"Welcome, all of you. The students are just packing, so Harry should be down in a few minutes," Dumbledore said. He then glanced to his right and frowned slightly. Because Professor McGonagall had gone stark white and was staring at Clint, who looked a little unnerved. "Minerva?"

"Albus, Steve! Look at him! Can't you see it?" McGonagall demanded.

"See what?" Albus began, then stopped and said, "Ah… well now. This is remarkable."

Steve frowned, stared at Clint, trying to see what they saw, then remembered his first impression of Clint, remembered the only other man he'd ever known with aim anywhere near as good as the legendary Hawkeye and remembered a certain unplanned pregnancy on the part of a young witch called Minerva McGonagall by her deceased beau. Then it all fell into place.

"Would you all mind explaining what the hell is going on?" Clint asked. Natasha had a slightly sad, knowing look on her face, and had stepped closer to him in a protective, supporting stance. Loki and Tony were eyeing him with curiousity, Thor had raised his eyebrows at the behaviour of his old Head of House, and Bruce's gaze was taking in all of their faces.

"Clint, during the war, I and the Commandos were stationed here," Steve said quietly. "We struck out at Scandinavian HYDRA bases and used it as a command base for the war against Grindelwald, an extremely powerful and dangerous Dark Lord who had allied with Hitler. And Bucky Barnes, my friend and second in command, fell in love with one of the seventh year students."

Tony's eyes widened and he opened his mouth, then, wisely, closed it. Loki and Bruce slowly nodded their comprehension.

"That student was Minerva McGonagall. She loved him back, and joined the fight after she left school. She was a prodigiously talented witch, and she was a very useful ally. But she was more than that. She became something of a little sister to the rest of the Commandos," Steve continued.

"I and Bucky were planning to marry, after the war," McGonagall said, voice carefully steady, though a few tears were in her eyes. "But he died in combat. They never even found his body." She took a deep breath. "When he died, I was pregnant. I didn't know it until a couple of months later, but it, no, she, was undoubtedly his." She bowed her head. "It was 1944. A child born out of wedlock to a woman who was little more than a girl? Scandalous. I wanted to keep the baby, and Albus supported me. But he was overruled by Headmaster Dippet. He claimed that since it was wartime and Hogwarts was such a high profile target, she would be safer elsewhere." She took a deep breath. "So I sent her to some distant relatives in the United States called Hiram and Mary Kent, who lived in Kansas, a town called Smallville, I believe. They raised her alongside their son, Jonathan, when he was born in 1953. I was allowed to give her a name. Edith, I called her. Edith Barnes, though she became Edith Kent. And later still, Edith Barton. I kept an eye on her, but from a distance."

"So why didn't you come and find me and Charlie, when she and dad died and we went into care?" Clint demanded, as the Avengers stared, wide eyed, and him and McGonagall.

"She's dead?" McGonagall whispered, horrified. She looked like she'd just been punched in the stomach by a giant.

"Yeah. Something you'd know, if you'd been keeping an eye on her," Clint said, tone sharp and harsh.

"I lost track of her after a while, and didn't search for her because… she was young, and happily married, though estranged from her adoptive brother. She had her own life. She wasn't noticeably magical, so there was no reason there for our paths to cross," Minerva said quietly, crying in earnest now. It is a hard thing for any parent to know they've outlived their child. An indescribably hard thing. Dumbledore laid a supporting hand on her arm, looking sad. "I didn't think she would want to meet the woman who gave her up."

Clint stared at her for a long moment, then strode off.

McGonagall began to go after him, but Natasha stopped her.

"He needs to be alone right now," she said quietly. "He'll have gone to the tallest tower in the school."

"But how will he find his way around? He can't have been here more than twice!" McGonagall said, worried for her unexpected grandchild. "It is very easy to get lost."

Natasha's face was purposefully smooth, and her tone purposefully calm. "Trust me. He can look after himself. He's been doing so for a very long time."

YES! COULSON LIVES! But he won't be appearing for a while. Not much, anyway.

Ooh, drama! And revelations galore! Who is the mysterious Doctor, one wonders? He's not the one with the TARDIS, I can tell you that. He's from Marvel. And Minerva being Clint's grandmother.

Yes, I've been planning this for a little while. It started out as a vague realisation that Bucky and Clint are surprisingly alike in appearance and behaviour, and both are uncannily good marksmen, in Clint's case, superhumanly good – there's no other way to reasonably explain. Then I was perusing Minerva's wiki page and found that she was going to marry a muggle when she was 18, but had to break it off, to her eternal sorrow. Thus, a plot bunny was born.

No, Clint isn't a wizard. He has some small magical ability in terms of accuracy and eyesight, but nothing more than that.

I know. The prank was mean. So is Snape. People tend to forget that while he is good, he is very definitely not nice. And it was funny. Also, in-universe, aside from Dumbledore, it is very hard to find anyone who is particularly sympathetic to Snape. And yes, the reference to Alan Rickman playing the Sheriff of Nottingham was intentional.

Oh, and Kudos to whoever picks up the shout out. I made it really very obvious to anyone looking for it… And yes, it will lead to more.