10.
It had taken Harry almost two weeks to find himself a flat to live in. Tony had been more than happy for him to stay at the newly dubbed Avengers Tower for as long as he wanted, but Harry didn't want to feel like he was taking advantage of the hospitality and mooching off Tony when he didn't need to, even if the man was a multi-billionaire.
The streets were still being cleared, and he had gone out with Tony and Steve a few times in their various outfits to help the clean-up crews, Harry's magic helping enormously. He had made sure to keep his hood up and shadowing his face so that nobody found out who he actually was; he was fairly sure he was still breaking the Statute of Secrecy, even if he was an unofficial Avenger, but no Aurors or hit wizards had come to arrest him yet.
The flat was on the top floor of a building in Queens, about 8 miles from Stark Tower, all red brick and wooden floors. It was small, but homely, with two bedrooms, bathroom and open kitchen/living area with a large fireplace.
Once he had paid for the lease and the estate agent had left, Harry pinned a large Gryffindor banner up in the bedroom, then unpacked his backpack before pulling the phone that Tony had given him when he left out of his pocket, rolling his eyes at the message.
Text me your address.
I'll find it anyway, but this saves me ten minutes.
–TS
Harry pocketed the phone and looked around at the rather bare flat.
"Kreature!" He called, and the old elf appeared with a 'crack', a green tea towel wrapped around him like a toga.
"Master Harry called?" He croaked, sinking into a bow and peering around the flat.
"Stop calling me master." Harry muttered. Kreature peered up at him through his bushy white eyebrows. "Could you do me a favour, and get some stuff from Grimmauld Place and bring it here?" Harry said. "I'd like the bookcase in the study to the left of the desk, with all of the books on it; the chest of drawers in my room; any pictures up in my room or the kitchen; and any clothes that aren't in the chest of drawers, please."
"Of course, Master Harry." Kreature said, sinking into another low bow. He disappeared with another loud 'crack', and Harry dropped onto the sofa to wait. It was only a few minutes later when the furniture he had requested appeared in the living room next to him. Harry levitated the chest of drawers into the bedroom, then positioned the large wooden bookcase in the living room.
There were only a few pictures in Grimmauld Place that Harry actually liked – a few of his parents from Sirius' room, an assortment of Teddy and a couple of Weasley family portraits – and he spent a few minutes walking around the flat sticking them on the walls and the coffee table in the living room, carefully placing any obviously magical pictures out of direct sight in case any muggles came into the flat, not that he was expecting many visitors.
Kreature had left four piles of clothes on his bed, and Harry put them away around his bedroom, thinking about what Tony had said about an Avengers uniform – he refused to think of it as a costume.
He lay his black cloak on the bed, then pulled a pair of pale tebo-hide trousers out of the chest of drawers and set them down next to it. After a moment's thought, he also took his favourite Weasley jumper. It was deep purple, with a golden snitch in one corner, but also had protective enchantments woven into the kitting, and must have taken Molly hours to make. He finished the outfit by adding his dragon-hide boots and a muggle utility belt that had had undetectable extension charms added to the pockets.
With a nod, Harry sent the uniform floating into the wardrobe with a wave of his hand. He glanced at his watch when his stomach gave a small growl, and was surprised to see that it was already half past three.
Grabbing a jacket, Harry checked he had his wallet, then left the apartment, locking the door with a tap of the elder wand. He looked down the corridor, and when he couldn't see anybody, surreptitiously cast a few wards around his new home.
He holstered his wand, and started down the stairs, emerging on a busy street. Harry walked around for a while, looking for somewhere to get something to eat, but contentedly watching the people living their lives, basking in the fact that nobody recognised him or knew who he was.
After a few minutes of walking, he caught sight of a shop on a corner that boasted 'the best sandwiches in Queens'. With a shrug, entered the shop, the bell over the door tinkling as he pushed it open.
There was a boy ordering a sandwich, and Harry queued behind him as he talked to the bearded man behind the counter.
"Thanks Mr. Delmore." The boy said, taking his wrapped sandwich and walking over to a cat sat on the end of the counter. "Hey Murph."
"What can I get you?" The man behind the counter asked, and Harry glanced up at the menu on the wall behind him.
"Can I get a pizza wizard." He said with a small grin.
"That's three dollars." The man replied, tapping at the till in front of him.
Harry pulled out his wallet and stared at the coins in his hand. "I think that's right." He said helplessly as he handed over the money.
The man counted it out and handed back one of the coins. "You're British, huh?"
"Yep." Harry replied.
"You on vacation?"
"Er, yeah." Harry nodded, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Think I might stay on a bit though."
Mr. Delmore nodded. "New York'll do that for ya. Here you go." He handed Harry a wrapped sandwich.
"Thanks."
He left the shop and started walking back towards his flat, eating the sandwich as he walked.
He tossed the paper wrapping in a bin as he passed, and paused when he found himself outside of a large grocery store. With a shrug, Harry headed inside, and almost an hour later he emerged with four shopping bags full of food and other necessities for his flat.
He debated the pros and cons of just adding an undetectable extension charm to the pockets of his jacket as he walked back to his building with the heavy bags, but finally decided that it would take too much effort to stop in the street and surreptitiously try to do the charm without anyone seeing, particularly seeing as he was half-way back anyway.
Harry dropped the bags in his doorway with a sigh, then after a short pause, locked his door behind him and jogged up the stairs to the roof. He pushed the metal door open at the top and it creaked horribly before he flicked his wand at it and oiled the hinges.
The sun was beginning to set, and Harry squinted as he looked around the asphalt roof noting with a nod that his building was one of the tallest in the immediate vicinity, with a great view over the city streets below.
With another quick check to ensure that nobody was on the roof with him, Harry shut the metal door and locked it with a tap of his wand, then carefully scorched a set of runes on each corner of the low brick wall running around the roof with his wand. Once he had etched the final rune into a black leather wristband, they all flashed with a bright blue light to indicate the ward had activated. Hermione might call him paranoid, but Harry would sleep better knowing that he would know if anything happened to the building, or if anyone managed to appear on the roof.
He walked back down the stairs, tucking his wand into the holster on his arm as he went. He heard music coming from one of the flats as he passed.
Harry unlocked his door with the key and let himself in, flicking on the lights before bending and picking up the plastic shopping bags. He watched the golden snitch fly around the living area as he unpacked the bags into various cupboards.
He dropped onto the armchair in the living room and absently tapped his wand against the arm. After a few seconds, he jumped to his feet again, and walked into the bedroom. There was a small cupboard off to one side, not quite a wardrobe, that he didn't have enough stuff to fill, and he opened the door and peered into it. After a minute or two spent ensuring he had what he wanted clearly pictured in his head, Harry muttered an incantation and watched as a simple staircase appeared in the cupboard. Another word, this time accompanied by a small twiddle, and the door at the top looked like just another air conditioning unit on the roof.
With a satisfied nod, Harry closed the cupboard door and kicked off his boots, then fell backwards onto his bed.
He pulled his phone out of his jeans, and saw four more messages from Tony, the last one describing how he now had the floor plan to his new flat, as Harry hadn't been considerate enough to simply tell him where he was living.
Harry laughed and set the phone on his bedside table, then pulled a stack of parchment and a ballpoint pen out of the drawer. He went into the sitting room and jabbed his wand at the empty fireplace, and a crackling fire sprung up.
He started with a letter to Ron and Hermione, explaining that he was alive and happy, and was planning on staying in the states for longer than a holiday.
...I've got a small flat in New York. It's a few blocks away from the place I'm working – I met a few people my first day here and they offered me a job, so I think I'm going to stay out here for a while. Hermione, you might know of them – group of 6, one guy with a bow, another has a metal suit? I'm sure you'll work it out. No doubt you saw the news. Sorry about that.
He winced when he realised that he would have to send the letter by muggle post, that would take at least a couple of days to reach them, in which time they would be worrying constantly about him.
His letter to George was not quite as composed, bragging about meeting – and fighting – The Actual Loki. He asked if Weasley's Wizard Wheezes had introduced any new products recently, and whether he was due a sample box...
As an afterthought, Harry wrote a short letter to Teddy telling him about the new flat in America, and hinting at who he was working with. He told his godson that the second bedroom was unofficially his, and that he would need to visit at some point over the summer holidays once he broke up from school.
When he looked up and glanced out of the window, Harry was startled to see it was dark, and glancing at his watch he saw that it was almost nine o'clock.
He stood up and stretched, then walked over to the kitchen and pulled bag of pasta out of one of the cupboards. Half an hour later he dropped back onto the sofa with a fork and a bowl, and watched the crackling fire as he ate.