KEYnote: Guys! I'm so excited! I knew this when I started writing but it really sunk in that I get the original Avengers with Tom Holland. Because Holy Shit, the best Spidey is even better when we aren't cleaning up Civil War and End Game :D
-)o(-
This chapter goes through four weeks of Harry waking up in the MCU. The MCU timeline is mostly fucked at this point but we are still in Fall Semester 2016
Chapter 3 - Captain Spangles
Steve Rogers was suspicious, which was his usual state of being around Tony Stark, Howard Stark's demon spawn.
Sure, deep down was Tony was a good guy? Of course, or else Steve would have never tolerated him but Jeez Louise, of all the 'I have a kid who wants to meet you,' moments he has encountered since coming out of the ice, this had to be the first time someone had in any seriousness put him on a mat with a child.
Said child was a lanky kid from Queens, talking a mile a minute, all smiles and cheers.
And yet, Tony and Rhodey wanted Steve to 'try' to punch him. The way Tony had said it, the way Rhodey had smirked, it was like they thought he couldn't.
When the real problem here wasn't could not it was should not.
Still, Sam and Natasha were also here and it wasn't as if Tony had ever asked for 'Captain America' to show up anywhere before.
No, actually, if it was up to Stark, short of an alien invasion, only SHIELD called Steve in. Tony, apparently, wanted nothing to do with him. Not in the press, not in battle, nor for drinks in the after hours.
Not that Steve liked Tony well enough for that. He respected Tony, mostly, and he was fun at the odd party but they weren't close friends. Everything Tony knew about Steve, he knew either from a third party or from invasive modern tech that SHIELD specialized in and that Tony had hacked.
He didn't like any of it, but still, this was the first real favour Tony had ever asked of him, so Steve had showed up and now he was being asked to punch a high schooler.
Why were the Avengers so weird?
Tony's smile was down right evil as he said, "Just remember, Cap, he's fifteen."
Peter Parker rolled his big brown eyes but held himself in a loose fighting stance.
Steve shook his head, "Alright, kid, ready?"
Parker sent him a charming smile (he was a cute kid) and motioned him forward, not unlike Natasha.
Steve came forward, careful of the boy's pride even as he held back.
But Parker was fast.
As in, impressively fast, for a high schooler at any rate.
Steve used some of his own speed and yet -never came close to so much as grazing the kid.
Sam, his morning running buddy who had accompanied Steve up from D.C., chortled from the sidelines as Parker completely sidestepped Steve's next attempt to trip him, "On your left, Cap!"
Steve gritted his teeth, glancing to the side, even Natasha was grinning at him, while Tony, Rhodey, and Happy looked twenty levels of smug.
Steve Rodgers didn't often lose his temper, but the taunting was enough for even Steve to plant his feet, although he still made sure to aim a punch for the kid's stomach, not the teenager's solar plexus.
The punch, however, never landed.
Parker caught his fist.
Steve felt his eyes widen, because no normal teenager, nor most master martial artists, couldn't have pulled that off.
He saw the mirth in Parker's brown eyes and then-
Then the teenager had Steve's wrist and was yanking him forward with impossible strength.
What followed was both awe inspiring and probably a pitiful show. It didn't take Steve long to realize that Peter Parker did indeed have superhuman strength, and was as flexible and nimble as Natasha. But he was only using his strength for defense, and like Steve, he was holding back.
With both of them holding back it was hard to gauge where they stood against each other. But Steve was able to determine a few things.
Peter was more flexible, springier, faster, had more advanced senses, and was stronger than Steve, he was also incredibly intelligent, indicated by how the kid was able to think and strategize mid-spar.
But what was also clear was that Peter had no formal fighting training.
Which was how Steve got him in a headlock.
Yet Peter's superior strength was how Captain America found himself thrown down on the mats with the wind knocked out of him by a freaking teenager.
A fifteen year old, as Tony had informed him, to be exact.
Steve smiled up at Peter who offered him a hand up.
Tony, Rhodey, Happy, Natasha, and Sam were on the mats then, signally a full end of the spar.
Tony, grinning broadly, slapped a hand on Peter's shoulder, "Good go, kid. Cap, I would like you to meet New York's neighborhood Spider-Man. Kid, Captain Spangles."
Steve rolled his eyes, "Not bad, kid."
Rhodey snorted, "Not bad? He laid you out. How much do you lift, Pete?"
Peter opened his mouth but Tony squeezed his shoulder, "Capsicale, why don't you answer that question first?"
Steve crossed his arms, "About eight hundred pounds."
Peter grinned, his cheeks tinged pink only a bit as he said, "Ten tons."
Steve felt his jaw slacken and Sam whistled.
Natasha asked, "You have any training? Any sports?"
Peter shook his head, "No, I only got bit by the spider last year and… well, I was never much of a sporty guy before that."
"I'm sorry," Sam interrupted, "A spider? You got bit by a spider and now you are able to lift five elephants?"
Peter's cheeks were now red but he grinned, "It was an eventful field trip. And um, I might have squished the spider."
"Quite the thank you," Natasha said, though she too was smiling.
Tony was still smirking, "Peter is the smartest kid at Midtown School of Science and Technology-"
"No, I'm not-"
Tony held up a finger, cutting Peter off, "In addition to being Spider-Man and his cover up as my intern, he's actually going to be my intern, so he's going to be around Stark Tower a lot."
Steve shook his head, "I told you, I'm fine in my own apartment in D.C.. I'm not ready to move back to New York just yet."
Tony waved his remark away, "Regardless, I wanted you all to meet the youngest Avenger."
"I'm an Avenger!?" Peter asked excitedly.
"Junior Avenger," Tony modified, "You did good today, kid, but Capsical was holding back on you."
Steve nodded, "But you have the makings to be great, Pete. Your spider bite gave you more than the super-serum gave me."
Natasha nodded, "I have a lesser version of what Steve has, but training can make all the difference. How do you feel about ballet?"
"Ballet? Like dancing?" Peter asked.
One of the Soviet's most deadly assassins nodded her head.
Peter shrugged, "It's cool, never really thought much about it before, I'm not joking when I said I was uncoordinated and unathletic before the bite."
Steve could relate to that only too well, he gave the teen a smile, "Catches up to you, doesn't it? How you remember yourself and how you are?"
Peter smiled, something like relief shining in his eyes, and Steve had to wonder how hard it must be to be superhuman at such a young age. High school was rough enough before adding super powers to the hormone changes.
"I'd be happy to train you, Peter," Natasha said.
They all turned to her.
Natasha had been different since her encounter with Loki. She had never explained about the supposed ritual/deal she had made with the God of Mischief regarding her son. All that was clear was that she had had a son, that he was probably alive, and she had no way of finding him.
Because literally no one else had ever heard of him.
Ever.
It was tragic.
Something in Natasha had seemed to both awaken and die all at once. Over the last four years, she seemed to be slipping further and further away from everyone and everything. She still socialized, but it was as if she was always acting, always going through the motions.
Steve had been grateful for the time they did spend together, she was only eleven years younger than him, and technically sixty years older than him as she had been awake for the transition years into the new century.
But as Natasha had been a spy that whole time, she had become both jaded to the change of time and trained to never be attached to the past like he was, because as a spy, she couldn't fit in if she was acting like someone's grandmother.
Still, Natasha Romanoff, Master Spy, had withdrawn from the world, even from her best friend, Clint. Clint was always worried about her whenever he was near her. Natasha Romanoff never went out of her way to socialize with anymore these days.
Yet here she was now, offering to be Spider-Man's personal trainer.
Peter's eyes were very wide, "I would be so honoured, Ms. Agent Black Widow Romanoff."
She smiled an expression that turned her jade eyes emerald, "I'll have Tony order your ballet shoes."
Tony scoffed, "You can't really teach him ballet."
"Why can't I?" she countered, "He's built for it. It's something he could practice in public, win the hearts of many ladies, and it puts him at advantage against most hired guns."
"How?" Tony demanded.
"Most fighting is based on boxing or martial arts, they all share similar bases, outside of gorilla fighters, the base forms are predictable. It is good for most people, those stances will save your life. But if you are already enhanced and your fighting possible masters, predictable is not what you want to be when the enemy has guns.
"Ballet gives you complete control over your body. You can position your body one way and move in the opposite direction. You learn how to balance in difficult stances, when you combine that with martial arts, and in this case, super powers, it will make him truly formidable."
Peter nodded, "I'm guessing that it will also help me learn how to control my strength. I looked up martial art videos and some of the instructions made me really nervous because they said 'picture punching through your opponent', which I think would be a really bad idea if I might actually succeed in doing that. I don't want to accidentally kill anybody."
Steve was horrified that a boy so young had to worry about that. He put a hand on the kid's shoulder, "You're one of us, kid, you're not alone in this."
Peter grinned at him, "Thank you, Captain Rogers."
Tony shook his head, "Spiders united, New York is never going to be the same."
Steve shared a smile with Natasha, his chest warming as he saw the hope and life blooming in her eyes as for once she looked toward the future and not the past.
Maybe it was time he did the same.
-)o(-
"Are you sure," Bucky asked, "this is going to hold?"
He was holding a driver's license that read Buchanan James Winter.
It wasn't subtle, especially not with his picture attached to it, long hair or no. But Asgardians, even in hiding, weren't subtle.
"Relax," Loki said quietly, "the rune is right on it."
"Any intelligence agency worth its salt will-"
"I said relax," Loki cut him off, "I wove it into the picture. No tech will be able to match it and there is a compulsion," as Loki had placed on them both and so people who met or talked about him had a hard time connecting him with that incident four years ago, "to avoid that no human will be able to look past. Just go by Winter if you're worried."
Worried.
That was one word for it. Bucky still wasn't entirely sure Harry, i.e. Harri James Lokison, wasn't kidnapped but he had personally hacked multiple government databases to look up all the names Harry had listed of the family and people he known.
Not only were those people from twenty years in the past, none of them had ever existed. If they did happen upon matching names, they didn't fit Harry's description of them. Loki had limited the explanation to the kid.
It was obvious to them that Harry knew this was magic, but he seemed disoriented from being 'in the future' and the existence of aliens. So Loki had given Harry the cover story they had given to the authorities.
They had found Harry and adopted him.
It was prolonging the inevitable interdimensional one-way travel, oh by the way, 'I'm a Russian war machine and he's a Viking God, discussion.'
Bucky wasn't exactly amused that most people now assumed that he was in a 'relationship' with Loki, but he wasn't as upset as he thought he would be either.
He had thought that living through decades where same sex relations were an actual death sentence would be the central issue, but no, the problem lay more in people assuming something about his private life. He had just enough of people being invasive of his personal life for the rest of eternity.
Once upon a time, he had dreamed of returning from war, of finding the right woman, settling down, having a few kids and living in a top floor apartment. It was surreal after everything he had been through, to have some of those things.
Finding women to sleep with wasn't difficult, but dating human women was down right impossible. Asgardian women had almost been an option, but Bucky did not like the derogatory way almost all Asgardians talked about humans. He had been an object too long to find a partner who honestly saw him as a lesser being.
Loki was different, he said all the mean things too, but he knew himself to be a Frost Giant, and if that were ever widely known, he would be seen as even less than a human on his home world. Bucky couldn't quite figure out if Thor's friends, who treated Loki as lesser than themselves, knew what Loki was or if they were just so foolish to believe that strength of arms and weaponry was superior to magic.
Bucky didn't pretend to understand Loki's magic, but he respected it, and he found Loki's lectures on magical theory interesting even if he couldn't understand a tenth of it.
Harry hadn't revealed any of his own magic yet, though Loki assured him he had and he was knowledgeable in Midgard magic.
The realization that witches and magicians were real was a revelation. But Bucky was completely lost on Loki's explanation that Harry was trained in Midgard magic, but in Harry's universe instead of drawing on the external science of the magic they used in magicians used, they used internal magic.
'It's a bastardization really. There is something wrong with that universe. He has the knowledge of a magician without actually knowing how to access external magic, but he knows how to access his internal magic yet he has no idea how to use it. In his world it was a combined art. I'm glad he will see it as an art but he has so much science and mathematics to catch up on.'
'How do you know that?'
'The ritual his mother used, it told me all I needed to know about their blind art.'
Bucky didn't envy Harry's training, Loki was a polymath and Asgardians were far ahead of Earth in technology, and the kid was apparently behind that already.
So yes, maybe sending him to a school for technology and science was cruel, but Bucky saw it as the compromise of what Loki had originally wanted to do. Which had been to falsify documentation, enroll him in college and supplement Harry's schedule with homeschooling.
Loki's second option had been Asgard.
Bucky didn't think Harry would thank him now, but maybe in a few years, when he passed or failed on his own merits with other humans his own age that he might.
"Mr. Odison, Mr. Winter?" the Principle, Mr. Morita came out Harry trailing behind.
Harry looked, well, not overwhelmed exactly, but not happy.
"I have spoken with Mr. Lokison-"
"Potter," Harry interrupted, "My name is Harry Potter."
Mr. Morita gave the boy an exasperated look, "Harry," a name that sounded the same spelled with a 'y' or the way Loki spelled 'i', "understands that he will be behind, considering as his previous guardians in England managed to skirt authorities and there are not even records of his homeschooling curriculum. His first semester will be pass or fail. We will reevaluate his progress then."
Bucky gave Harry a slight smile, "You will have time to work through it, kid."
Harry nodded, adjusting his backpack, looking how Bucky had felt when he had first put on a new uniform. Bucky hadn't owned many new things in his life and the clothes he had arrived in had clearly been ill-fitting hand me downs.
The bell rang.
Mr. Morita gestured to the door for Harry, "Ask around to get to the right classes, and I'll be checking in with Mr. Harrington to be sure you attend the Academic Decathlon Club."
"The what?" Bucky asked.
"Trivia club," Harry said unenthusiastically.
Bucky winced, "Why not any of the sports?"
"I missed tryouts," Harry answered, "See you after school, Bucky," Then more coldly, "Mr. Odison." Before slipping out into the halls.
Loki's grin didn't dim, he was of the opinion that Harry would warm up to him.
To be fair, Loki, God of Mischief, was an acquired taste.
Mr. Morita crossed his arms looking at them, "This school is for intelligent children, if that boy can't keep up-"
Loki's good humour vanished, "That boy is my son. His previous caretakers discouraged his learning, I expect this school to do the opposite."
"And why is it, again, that you didn't raise your son?" the principal asked.
"He was assumed dead by his mother," Bucky cut in, "But Harry is ours."
Loki picked up the threat, "We do hope the faculty at this school will not further discourage his adjustment to this new life."
Mr. Morita's demeanor softened a bit at that, "Very well, Mr. Winters, Mr. Odison. We will send home a midterm report, and if all else is well, you won't hear from us."
Bucky nodded, directing Loki out by looping his arm in his.
Bucky knew everyone assumed they were a gay couple, but it was better to encourage that image than let Loki make a scene and draw more unnecessary attention to their son.
Being the new kid was hard enough as it was.
-)o(-
"Join me and together we will build my new Lego Death Star."
The other boy spun, "Really? No way, how many pieces?"
"Three thousand, eight hundred and three."
"That's awesome!"
"Excuse me," Harry asked, a group of girls turning to look at him, Americans were weird about his accent, "Do you know where the Sophomore maths room is?"
"Maths?" the darker haired boy asked with a Lego man in hand.
The other boy smacked his shoulder, "Europeans call it maths, in America, it's just math. And yeah, that's our first class."
Harry offered a tight smile, hating everything.
He should be grateful to be alive, but he just felt… lost.
A new world, no magic, no family or familiar people, a new country, and he was two decades in the future.
Where aliens were a thing.
His new guardians were pretty generous people who waved away all Harry's oddities and helped him the best they could.
He definitely liked Bucky better than Loki. Bucky had a metal arm, again the future was insane, but Loki was insistent on being Harry's dad and changing his name.
James Potter was Harry's dad, and he might not remember his late father, but he wouldn't disrespect the man who had sacrificed his life for him by taking another man's name.
"I'm Harry Potter," he said, holding his hand out, it was always surreal to not be famous. Being the new foreign kid was nothing to being the Boy Who Lived.
The brown haired boy shook his hand first, "Peter Parker, and this is Ned Leeds."
Harry shook the other boy's hand and said, "Nice to meet you." Then found himself trailing behind them to 'math' class.
He sat beside a brown haired girl who appraised him, "Hey."
"Hello," Harry said, before roll call started.
"Lokison, Harri," the teacher said.
"My name is Harry Potter," he said, causing the teacher to look up and every student to turn to look at him.
"This is the name I was given," she said, not reprimanding him exactly but clearly not liking his tone.
"I'm Harry Potter."
She gave him a long look, before scribbling something down on her pad and saying, "Noted."
Harry quickly wished he hadn't said anything because he wasn't just far behind, he was dead in the water.
It all went so far over his head, he found himself sketching in the margins of his notebook.
This was a trend that proceeded for the next few classes, though his English class seemed pretty easy. His essays about magic were a lot more complicated than those pertaining to literary terms and stories. Reading books and drawing were about the only hobbies he had outside of the magical world.
A world that was gone now.
He was grateful to Bucky, for spending hours with him looking for people who didn't exist and never once making him feel stupid for asking.
But Harry had accepted that in some twist of fate he had died and been reborn into a world without magic.
He wasn't really a religious person, but he was pretty sure this was hell.
"I like to think I draw miserable people professionally but you depress even me," said the girl who had sat beside him for a few of his classes after the bell rang.
Harry slowed to look at her, she was taller than him and rather beautiful, but he wasn't amused, but not much amused him anymore.
Must be a side effect of torture, death, and losing everything and everyone he had ever known.
"You're new," she said when he didn't say anything.
"So it would seem," he said.
"I'm Michelle Jones."
"Harry Potter."
"This is my first year at this school too," she said, then belatedly, almost hesitantly, "I was recently adopted."
He looked at her, startled, and stuttered, "Me too."
She gave him a sad half smile, "I've been in and out of foster homes for most of my life, I know the look."
"I don't miss my old guardians, I just-"
"You're old school? Friends? ...country?" she asked as they weaved through the hall.
"Why are you talking to me?" Harry asked, not meaning the rude phrasing, but not knowing how else to ask the more personal question.
"No one is allowed to depress me," she said raising her chin, "It's against my code of ethics."
He huffed a laugh, but then, appreciating how hard it was to admit something that personal to a stranger just on the off chance to make him feel not so alone, he said, "Thanks, Michelle, it means a lot."
"MJ," she said, "my friends call me MJ."
He raised a brow, "That was fast."
MJ shrugged, "This school is…"
"Rich?"
She nodded, "There are some scholarship kids but…"
"You're smart but it was your adoptive parents who got you in, right?" he guessed.
MJ nodded as they entered their next class.
It was rare that he had ever understood anyone or had been understood by anyone without really knowing them, but he supposed New York City was a bigger place than Hogwarts.
"I'm not even smart," he admitted.
She bumped his shoulder with hers, "Being behind isn't the same thing as not smart."
"Here's hoping," he said, sitting down beside her in the back of class.
They ended up spending that class drawing stick figures that were fighting with broadswords when their two notebooks lined up.
It was not a productive Chemistry class, it was, however, a beautiful start to a new friendship.
-)o(-
Peter held his breath after whacking the tech with a hammer, causing the thing to shoot across the room.
"Keep your fingers away from the blades," Mr. Hapgood said.
Peter turned back to the purple glowy thing, "I gotta figure out what this thing is and who makes it."
"We'll go to the lab after class and run some tests," Ned answered.
They did their patterned handshake, before Peter shoved the alien tech into his backpack as the new kid came over to their table.
"Hey, Harry, how's your first day been?" Peter asked, trying and failing to act normal.
Harry, thankfully, didn't blink twice at his weird behaviour, "Um, not too bad. I was just wondering, what this class is?"
"Shop," Ned and Peter answered together.
"Yeah," Harry said, voice dry, his British accent gave the words personality, "But what do you do?"
"We all have projects for the end of year, this is time to work on it with the school resources," Ned said. "Peter has an internship with Stark so this is all minor leagues for him."
"Stark?" Harry asked.
"Tony Stark," Ned repeated and at Harry's continued blank look, he added, "You know, Iron Man, Stark Industries?"
"So he's rich?" Harry surmised.
They all stared at him.
Finally, Ned said, "He's an Avenger."
"Yeah, I don't know what an Avenger is," Harry said as if he wasn't living in the city where an alien war had taken place.
Ned was gaping at him, "You don't know? How can you not know!?"
"I really don't know much about the States," Harry insisted.
"Stark Industries isn't just about America," Peter said, setting aside how anyone could not know about the Avengers, but then again, he had said he had lost everything. "It's part of how we won World War II and is the world leader in science innovation."
"Right," Harry said, no bells seemed to have been rung, "Listen, I wasn't really asking… er, about class I mean, what sort of projects?"
"You know, science or technology," Ned said, looking at Harry as if maybe Betty was right, maybe the guy was on drugs.
Harry pushed his glasses up his face, then pulled his long bangs over his forehead, "Er, I don't really know that much about those subjects. I'm okay at maths though, I guess."
Even MJ gave him a look.
Peter couldn't think of a nice way to say it, but Ned just went for it, "This is Midtown School of Science and Technology, why would you choose-"
Harry looked suddenly angry, his pale face flushed with humiliation, and he hissed, "I didn't choose this, I didn't want to come to this city or this country." He grabbed his bag and stormed out of the room.
Mr. Hapgood didn't even look up.
Peter and Ned shared a worried look. Peter had known something had been wrong with Harry's home life from role call this morning, but to be in a STEM school and not be invested in science, yeah, that was next level.
-)o(-
Harry didn't care that he was supposed to go to the trivia club after class, nor did he care that he was skipping out of class early. One he probably sucked a trivia, he didn't seem to know much of anything so it wasn't exactly like they could count on him. He also didn't care about this stupid school that his 'dads' had sent him to.
He had always wanted to be a normal kid but that seemed to be more impossible than surviving death and aliens.
Figuring out the New York subway wasn't all that difficult. He tried not to stomp up to his apartment and tried not to bruise his knuckles as he knocked on the door.
Loki opened the door, "Harri? You're home early-"
Harry pushed past the blue-eyed, black-haired man, doing his best to hold his temper. If he could just make it to his room-
"Harry?" Bucky said, standing up from where he had been sitting at the dining room table. "I was going to come and get you. You shouldn't have-"
"Why did you send me to that school!?" Harry asked, spinning on the two men.
Bucky looked at Loki who held out his hands in a placating gesture, "Harri, it is a good school-"
"I don't know anything!" Harry roared at him, "I'm not a science and technology person, I will never be able to catch up!"
"Of course you will," Loki said with supreme arrogance, "you are my son."
Harry almost growled, "I am not your son! My father was James Potter!"
"Yes, he was, but now you are so much more-"
Harry turned on his heel and went to his room before he did anything that might end with him winding up homeless.
"Where are you going?" Loki demanded.
"Studying," Harry snapped back, "because apparently, I suck at everything."
-)o(-
Loki stepped forward, holding out his hand, "I can help you stud-"
In answer, Harry slammed the door in his hopeful face.
Bucky uncapped a beer, "You deserved that."
Loki glared at him, plopping down into the seat beside him, "Are all teenagers like this?"
Bucky sipped his beer, taking his time before answering, "You still are like that."
Loki frowned at him, but didn't have an immediate comeback.
Bucky hid a smirk behind another sip.
-)*(-
Later that night, Bucky knocked with and brought in a bowl of pasta.
"Got to eat, kid."
"Thanks," Harry grumbled without looking up.
Bucky let him eat but when Harry had only a few bites left, he ventured, "Aside from the academics, how was it?"
"I don't know anything about anything."
"You skipped trivia."
"How am I supposed to do trivia? I don't know anything about America, or maths, I mean math, or science-"
"There will be time to catch up," Bucky soothed.
"Not before I make a fool out of myself."
"You're a teenager, it's your honorary duty to make a fool out of yourself, better now than in your thirties," Bucky joked, earning himself only a glare. He sighed, "We received a call after you got home about you leaving early."
"I'm not going to apologize."
"You can't make skipping school a habit," Bucky said without any harshness.
"Or what?"
"Or then you really will be making a fool out of yourself. You aren't behind in your studies, Harry, because you aren't a bright kid, but it would be stupid to give up on your education by simply running away from it."
Harry said nothing to this, his raven hair falling forward into his face, and he just finished the last of his pasta.
"Your teacher also said you had a field trip coming up, to D.C.?"
"Yeah, for a competition that I won't be any good for."
"Being a part of a team is about more than winning medals, it's about being there for your friends and teammates. Were you ever in any sports?"
"Yes."
Bucky waited for him to elaborate but when he didn't, Bucky didn't press, just said, "And did you have an audience, fans, and friends who supported you?"
Harry's shoulders slumped, "Yeah."
"It wouldn't have been as much fun without them, no?"
Harry looked up to meet Bucky's gaze before nodding.
"Then that's who you will be. If you don't make friends, then at least you are bound to make better relations with your classmates which will make school easier, and it will get easier, kiddo. Just give it time."
"I never thought I would ever go to America."
Bucky placed his real hand on Harry's shoulder, "And now you live in America's greatest city and are going to visit the Capitol. Don't take everything so seriously, this is the time in your life to make mistakes, experiment, and get to know yourself -while staying safe," he tacked on.
Harry gave him a small smile, "Thanks for dinner, Bucky. I can do the dish-"
Bucky snagged the dishes from his hand, "Ah, no you don't, today was a long day and another long day ahead of you tomorrow. Get some sleep."
"Good night, Bucky," Harry said softly, his tone different, as if he didn't know what to do with someone being kind to him.
"Night, Harry," Bucky said. Leaving he found Loki listening at the door, Bucky shooed him back, positioning his body so Harry couldn't see him.
"How did you do that?" Loki demanded when they got into the kitchen, "How do you always do that?"
The three of them had been living together for two weeks.
So far, Harry only really relaxed around Bucky.
"Probably because I'm not claiming to be his biological father or renaming him or sending him to a school he hates," Bucky said as he put the dishes in the sink.
"It's because you're human," Loki snapped.
"I do suppose being only eighty years his senior as opposed to thousands of years does help," Bucky said drily, not in the mood for 'humans are inferior debate.'
"Harry isn't going to age like a human, and you don't even have any grey hairs yet," Loki retorted, "You're both going to have to have to come to terms wit-"
Bucky spun on him, "With everyone around us we know and love dying? Thank you, Loki, but I've already learned that particular lesson, and by all indications, so has Harry. Give the boy space."
"He hasn't shown any magic-"
"He's depressed," Bucky snapped, "He lost his entire universe. I agree with giving him time to adjust before throwing the multiverse idea at him, I think he is still in shock. He just needs to find some normalcy, get his feet underneath him."
"He's magic."
"He's a young man who survived being murdered and is now dealing with high school, give it a rest, Loki. If you wanted to endear yourself to him, you shouldn't have tried to change his name, you should have tutored him before throwing him back at the school system. But here we are, and we are, all three of us, who we are, the rest will sort itself out in time."
Loki huffed, plopping himself down on the table and picking up one of Harry's textbooks. The self-proclaimed god really had gotten his hopes up for helping Harry with his homework. Going so far as to make duplicates of all of Harry's text books.
"I can't believe a being as old as you are, can have such little patience," Bucky commented, turning back to the dishes.
Loki slammed the book shut, "It's exactly because my life is long that I am so impatient, Buchanan, because I know exactly how fast time can pass. Harri won't be this young for long."
Bucky glanced back at him, "If that boy ever had a childhood, it's long since passed."
Harry had the eyes of a war veteran.
Loki raised his chin in challenge, "Which is why he needs us. Adults only stop having fun because they stop believing in the wonder of the world, stop believing in the magic of it."
Bucky raised a brow at him, "You know, you were more cynical than I was when we first met." Which was an accomplishment to be sure.
Loki shrugged, "You said it yourself, there's no fun in a competition if there is no one to appreciate it. Asgardians treat magic like fine silk, something material, not a living and breathing art." He reopened the book, wordlessly ending the discussion.
Loki didn't say it, Bucky didn't say it, but the rest of Loki's statement was crystal clear between them. They were very different people and beings, but they appreciated each other, valued each other.
Bucky and Loki, they were a team, they were in each other's corners and that made the game worth playing.
Made life worth living.
-)o(-
The rest of the week wasn't much better, but Harry came to realize some pretty important things.
Aside from him sucking royally at muggle stuff, MJ was amazing, he liked drawing more than he thought he did and Peter Parker was a super genius.
Harry couldn't keep up with MJ, Ned, and Peter, especially Peter in their primary classes, and he didn't leech off them, taking the bad grades rather than detract from the times they could spend just being normal kids. They were all supremely nice, like Luna Lovegood nice, or at least Peter and Ned were. MJ was… different but in a good way, she nor Harry never talked about their past lives again, only occasionally would Harry mention something strange his dad Loki would do or say.
Harry's threshold for strangeness after being raised by the Dursleys and then living in the wizarding world was an absurdly high bar, and yet Loki Odison was…
MJ stared at him, "Wait, really?"
Harry grinned, "Bucky got in on it too."
"Your dads are weirdos."
"It's kind of adorable sometimes," Harry admitted, though he doubted he would ever tell either of them that. He still only called them dads at school where it was easier to refer to them as such rather than highlight constantly, he was an orphan or that he didn't know his guardians well.
"What happened?" Peter asked, joining them at the lunch table.
Ned settled beside Peter with his easy demeanor, munching on the school vegetables like potato chips.
"We went to the park yesterday and my dads started talking to the pigeons," Harry explained, "Loki began naming them and Bucky started debating the name choices and then they both started asking the bird's opinions."
Peter sniggered, "That's endearing."
Ned shook his head, "You sure they aren't a couple?"
Harry nodded, "They have separate rooms and I think I've caught them flirting with women before. Though they seem more interested in us being a family than dating anyone." Which was a foreign concept to Harry, he had never had an adult put him first before, much less two.
Aside from his parents, but that had different consequences.
Harry felt somewhat guilty for resisting the domestic bliss that Bucky and Loki kept offering him, but Harry couldn't trust it. If his life had taught him anything, it was that nothing good ever lasted.
He was pretty sure it would break him to finally get a family and then be disappointed somehow. He had almost had Sirius, but after the Triwizard Tournament, did he even deserve more?
"What did they want to name them?" Peter asked.
"After Bible characters," Harry said, "Loki apparently doesn't know much and Bucky's been trying to explain some of the stories to him. So they started using the birds to visualize the disciples or something. Loki was mostly trying to make Bucky laugh I think."
"Did it work?" MJ asked, resting her chin on her palm.
"He smirked," Harry conceded.
"Hey, Penis Parker," Flash said as he passed the table, "You chicken out of the competition this weekend because you're scared-"
"Flash," Harry interrupted, "Go away."
"You think you can order me around, English?" he asked.
"I think you're not as cool as you think you are," Harry retorted.
"Coolest thing about you, Potty, is that you have two dads," Flash returned.
"Interesting that you're so fascinated with his parents' living arrangements," MJ observed, "When you keep talking about Peter's genitalia. Did you get a peek? Are you that interested or just jealous?"
Anyone in earshot laughed.
Flash jerked back from them, "You're all a bunch of freaks."
Harry flinched.
"You okay?" Peter whispered as Flash stormed off.
He nodded.
New world, same life.
That evening when he got home, he found it hard to talk, hard work up an appetite. Loki could be funny but Harry couldn't bring himself to be at ease around the man and his possessive behaviour, but Bucky was a quiet surety. He was steady in a way no one else in Harry's life aside from maybe Hedwig had ever been.
Today, with the word freak ringing through his skull and the nightmare of Cedric dropping dead beside him from last night fresh in his mind, he wanted nothing more than to talk to someone.
He might have talked to Sirius, but Harry couldn't even imagine what Sirius would say because he had never spoken with the man. It was a moot point, since Sirius Black didn't exist in this world.
Loki and Bucky did.
Harry could probably talk to Bucky, in fact, he knew he could.
But did he deserve to? Did Harry deserve to be comforted, to seek forgiveness when Cedric was dead, when Mr. Amos Diggory in another reality had been forced to bury his son.
"Harri, are you alright?" Loki asked.
Harry nodded, and kept his mouth shut.
These people were strangers, Harry didn't know how he had arrived here or why he had been adopted in America by these two people who seemed so invested in his well being.
It had to be a trap.
It had to be.
Because nothing that was wholly good ever happened to him. He didn't know what to hope for, didn't know who or what he wanted to be. All he knew was that good things didn't happen to him, and he didn't deserve them if they did.
His Aunt had been right about him all along.
Bucky walked all the way to the school with Harry the next morning for the field trip. They said their goodbyes and Harry was headed toward the bus when Bucky called him back, "Harry, just a moment."
"Yeah, Bucky?"
The older man sighed, brushing his hair back with his metal hand, "Harry, I know this transition into this new life hasn't been easy, and that you haven't known me or Loki long, but I want you to know that we would do anything for you. If you need us, if you need me, you just need to talk to me, ask, call, whatever, I'll be there for you.
"All of this chaos is going to make sense in time, and through it all you are always going to have us in your corner."
Harry didn't know why he said, don't know what possessed him, but he blurted out, "What if you die?"
Bucky put both hands on Harry's shoulders, "All things die, Harry, but it would take more than an army to take down your father and I. I know it is no small thing to ask, to ask you to trust us, but we won't fail you, Harry."
"Everyone else has," he whispered.
Bucky's hands tightened on his shoulders, "Not this time. This is a new beginning, for all three of us. We might be one of the world's strangest families, but we take care of each other, and you're one of us now."
Harry hugged, and wanted more than anything in that moment to believe.
That feeling made him all the more afraid to trust, to let them in.
He had lost everything without reason, how could he ever be sure that wouldn't happen again?
-)o(-
Peter ended up rooming that night with Harry Potter for the decathlon, which hadn't been the plan, but Harry had looked extremely down.
So the plan now, after Ned had helped Peter take off the tracker and the 'training wheels protocol' in his room, was to sneak out after Harry fell asleep.
Only Liz knocked on the door and changed the plans, again.
"Hey, Harry, Peter, we're going down to the pool, you wanna join us?"
Peter was all set to say no, but he looked back to Harry who had been dejectedly looking through one of his textbooks.
Peter knew when someone was grieving and he couldn't stand to see a friend of his, no matter how new, going through something alone.
"Do you want to go?" Peter asked him.
Harry shrugged, "If you don't go swimming I won't, I'm fine not to."
Peter pressed his lips together, Mr. Stark had said he had said to trust him. The alien tech was on his radar, on Ms. Romanoff's radar, which meant SHIELD knew. They had to.
Peter turned back to Liz, "Yeah, we'll be down. Are Ned and MJ coming too?"
Liz smiled, "Donno' but I'll go ask, see you in a bit."
Peter turned back to Harry, "Come on, it'll be fun. We should have the pool to ourselves."
Harry looked relieved to have a real excuse to close his book.
Peter decided to text Happy.
-Hey, Happy, I found a piece of alien tech and I was tracking the bad guys. I'm forwarding what I have to you. Hope you're having a good night!
By the time Peter was ready, Harry was coming out in a pair of shorts that would make due for swim trunks. He was skinny, the only thing that saved him from looking starved was his wiry muscles. He kind of looked like a manual labourer especially with the burn scars along the side of his torso and the nasty scars up his arms.
"What are the burns from?" Peter asked before he could think better of it.
Harry smirked, "Dragon."
Peter grinned, "Ha ha. Ready?"
The other boy nodded and they went down.
It was a lesson on how just being a kid could sometimes be, well, fun.
Harry was even laughing as he and MJ waded in the deep end of the pool. Seeing Harry Potter actually happy for once erased any doubts he had about his choice about not chasing down that arms deal tonight.
Until they got back to their hotel room and Peter had to take a call from Mr. Tony Stark in the bathroom.
"I thought I told you to stay out of it, kid," Mr. Stark said as soon as Peter put on his mask that would help muffle the sound of their voices.
"I did," he said, "mostly."
"Nat has been giving you lessons, we've been working in my labs, you never thought to bring it up."
"You said that-"
"I didn't want you involved," Mr. Stark interrupted, "now you have alien tech with you on a field trip in the D.C. area."
"Yeah, but-"
"No buts," Mr. Stark said harshly, "We will talk about this when you get back. Pepper and I have been talking, that it is perhaps time your Aunt May was brought into this."
"No! You can't! She's been through too much-"
"Peter, all guardians worry over their charges. I met your aunt, she is pretty chill, but what if something does happen to you?"
"It won't!"
"It might if you disregard my instructions like this. Really, Pete, what would be worse, finding out now in controlled circumstances? Or if something happens? And I have to be the one to tell her in the hospital? Or if someone finds out who you are and tries going through her to get to you?"
Peter felt his heart nearly stop in his chest, "Mr. Stark, I can't- I can't-"
"Breathe, kid. Being a hero isn't all fun in games, it's not just about saving people, it's about personal sacrifice."
"Don't talk to me about sacrifice!" Peter practically shouted, "I can't lose Aunt May too, she doesn't deserve-" He bit his tongue.
Mr. Stark waited a few beats before saying, "Would you give it up? Would you ever stop helping people the way you're able to? You are like Steve, kid, a super soldier spider, but you're also a genius like me or Banner. You can literally be whoever you want to be. If you stick to labs, you are, in all honesty, if you stay out of weapon development, likely to live a long safe life. Big family, happy life, and all that jazz.
"But if you go it the way of the hero… safety is always going to be an issue, Pete, you will always be an obstacle for evil, so evil will always try to stomp you out."
Peter took a deep breath, "I know what you are saying, Mr. Stark. But my Aunt May has been through a lot."
"And this path isn't going to get easier," Mr. Stark said not unkindly. "Just think about it, Pete. She's the closest family you have and you're her world. The secrets are going to catch up to you. So maybe not this week, or next month, but this can't be indefinite, Peter. She has a right to know."
"Alright," he sighed.
"Sam the Falcon will be around tomorrow before you get on the bus, pass off the tech to him then, alright?"
Peter nodded, "Right, night, Mr. Stark."
"Night, Pete, good luck tomorrow."
Peter pulled off his mask, leaning into the bathroom counter he sighed.
He knew Mr. Stark was right but Peter couldn't imagine how he could tell Aunt May all that had happened. He didn't think he would ever be ready for that.
-)o(-
Harry thought he heard Peter fighting with someone on the phone, but he didn't pry, just pretended to be asleep when he came back out.
Sleep never came and when light began to brighten the sky before even sunrise, Harry gave up trying and got dressed for the day. From years of practice, he was able to get ready quietly enough to not wake the other boy.
D.C. was a beautiful city, especially around the capital.
He found a place by the monument, the lake mirroring the sky. MJ said the spear building had been built by slaves, Harry just knew that British history wasn't just a part American history, but longer and likely worse.
They hadn't really covered such topics in primary school with such severity, but now that he was older… well, what wizards and witches did to non-humans wasn't better than what humans did to other humans.
That was a depressing thought. But then, Harry had lived history.
The Great Wars… he had heard some muggleborns refer to Voldemort as Wizarding Hittler.
Hittler was probably worse than Voldemort, but only because Hittler had been more successful than Voldemort. Voldemort, after all, couldn't even take over a school, couldn't kill a baby.
Couldn't manage to kill Harry Potter correctly.
"Hey, kid, you alright?"
Harry nearly jumped out of his skin, looking up at a large man wearing a tight shirt and looking down at him with a worried frown. He had blue eyes and blonde hair and looked somewhat familiar but Harry couldn't place him.
"Um, yeah, just -er… waiting for the sunrise."
"Mind if I sit?"
Harry knew talking to strangers wasn't a good idea, but this was the future, and computers seemed to have advanced beyond Harry's wildest imaginations. D.C. security had to be safe enough for him to be out in the open like this, even if this man out weighed him three times over, "Sure."
"Where are your folks?" the man asked.
"Dead," Harry answered without thinking.
The man blinked, "I'm sorry, champ. You lost? Can I get-"
"I'm here on a field trip. I couldn't sleep, so I went on a walk to see the sunrise. Something wrong with that?" he didn't mean it to come out so hostile, but his emotions were both all over the place and yet also always beyond his reach.
Harry didn't know how to feel, all he knew was that he felt exhausted all of the time, which he was sure the whole not sleeping thing didn't help with.
"Nope," the man said, "My name is Steve Rodgers, by the way."
"Harry," he replied, resting his chin on his knees, turning his gaze on the water.
Steve coughed as if clearing his throat or covering up a laugh, but he asked in a pleasant voice, "How are you liking America?"
"It's fine."
"The love of my life was from England."
Harry glanced at the man, his blue eyes were sad, but still focused on Harry, "I'm sorry for your loss."
"Her accent is what set her apart initially servicing in the US military, but she was a unique woman, I've never met anyone quite like her. She never took crap from anyone."
Harry fought not to roll his eyes, "Lucky her."
-)o(-
Steve was amazed to meet someone who didn't know who he was, especially after knowing his name. Granted, people still were rude to him on occasion, but he wasn't used to kids being this… unimpressed with him.
He had given his full name hoping to startle the boy in his yellow uniform out of his slump, but he was… unswayingly miserable.
And his accent was twisting his heart, reminding him painfully of Peggy.
But this had to be the one English speaking kid who didn't know who he was and Steve wanted to help him as himself, not the super soldier.
"She was a hard worker and a fine shot."
Again, no response.
Jeez, this kid was a tough cookie, Steve decided to be more blunt as he leaned back in the grass trying to appear as non-threatening as possible. The way the kid was curled in around himself, it was almost as if he was hiding.
If his uniform wasn't yellow, Steve might have missed him on his morning run, if the jacket wasn't known, he might have worried the kid was half starved. There was a hollowness about his cheeks that reminded Steve strongly of a few kids in his neighborhood who had too many siblings to ever go to bed with full bellies.
"School alright?" Steve asked.
"Aside from the fact that I'm flunking out, sure, it's peachy-keen," he said the last in a hard American accent.
"Have you asked anybody for help?"
"I'm four years behind, I'm kind of beyond help at this point," Harry said, never taking his eyes off the water.
"Well, you will have to start at some point, doing nothing-"
Harry turned angry emerald eyes on him, "You don't get it. You don't understand the circumstances. I'm not just four years behind, I'm like two decades behind in source material, my old guardians were…" He looked away, cutting himself from sharing something personal.
Steve was glad the kid looked away because he couldn't help but crack a slight smile about being 'two decades behind' because Steve was literally seven decades behind the times.
"I might understand better than you think," Steve said, fighting to keep the amusement from his tone. Really, this had to be the only time he would ever have a conversation like this, "My advice; take it in pieces. You are never going to learn everything at once, just learn what you can. You aren't stupid if you don't know everything your friends know."
"So everyone keeps telling me," Harry sighed.
Steve chuckled, "If people are offering you help, maybe think about accepting every now and then? There is no need to go it alone if you don't have to."
"You sound like my dad."
Steve blinked, didn't the kid just say his parents were dead?
Harry flushed, "I mean, my adopted one, one of my adopted ones. My other dad is a little crazy."
"Crazy how?" Steve asked gently.
Harry shrugged, "He's… theatrical, and intrusive, he always wants to be in my space, and do my homework with me and know every part of my mundane day…" he trailed off, lost in thought.
"Sounds like he's trying to get to know you," Steve offered, "trying to help you any way he can."
"Yeah, well, he's a bit much," Harry said, brows pinched, frowning at a thought not at Steve.
"Maybe you should give him a chance," Steve offered.
Harry huffed a laugh, giving him a rye look, "I keep debating that with myself, and I've come to the conclusion that either it's too good to be true or I'm just going to lose them like I've lost everyone else."
Steve's heart gave another painful twist, knowing exactly how that felt. "But what's the alternative, Harry? Are you going to live your life waiting for a promise that things are going to be okay forever? That's not a promise anyone can realistically make."
The boy's shoulders rounded, "I don't know what to do."
Steve put a tentative hand on his shoulder, "No one does, kid, we are all just doing our best and hoping that tomorrow will bring the sun. But if you are drowning, and you have people throwing you a life line, even if they aren't the people you want them to be, even if it isn't the life you thought you would have, you would be a fool not to accept the help.
"There is no shame in needing help."
The kid was staring at him and if it wasn't for Steve's advanced hearing he might not have even heard the boy's next words, "But what if I don't deserve it?"
Steve squeezed his shoulder, "Harry, everyone deserves a shot at happiness and family. If your dads want to help you, then you're just going to have to take it on faith that they believe you are deserving too."
The raven haired boy nodded, looking back to the water as the sun crested the horizon, gleaming off the water's surface. They sat in peaceful stillness for a time before the boy said, "I should be getting back."
Steve stood, offering his hand to the kid, "It was a pleasure to meet you, Harry."
The boy took his hand, "You too, Mr. Rodgers, and thanks."
"Say hello to your dads for me," he said with a grin.
Harry gave him a skeptical look but nodded before heading back toward the hotel areas. Steve watched him go and once the boy was out of ear shot, he called, "You can come out now, Sammy."
Sam rounded a tree, all smiles, "That kid had no idea who you were, did he?"
"Not a clue," Steve grinned back.
"Speaking of kids, Natasha's baby spider has a mission for us."
Steve raised a brow, "Really?"
"Yeah, he's here in D.C. for some trivia competition or something. We have to pick up some tech from him before he gets on his bus. The FBI was already on the guy he was tracking. Also, as you didn't know this already, I'm guessing you didn't read the group chat?"
"I don't know how to access the group chat," Steve admitted.
Sam chuckled, "Natasha is right, you are a fossil."
Steve rolled his eyes, "Yes, well this old man has some laps to overtake you this morning, don't I?"
Sam only grinned, "Hey, don't blame that poor English kid for your laziness."
Steve laughed.
AN: They are all brushing shoulders, will it continue? How long can secrets be kept? Next chapter is more upbeat. What did you think of this near 10k chapter, its characters, its surprising lack of manatees, or any feedback, please?