First: THANK YOU all so so much for all the kudos, comments, suggestions, guesses on what might come next (some made me chuckle) - just general encouragements for this fic (and i apologise in advanced that I will more than likely not be able to answer most of your comments personally - though I figure you guys would rather I spend more time on writing the actual fic than personally reply to every comment left on both ao3 and fanfiction)
Second: thanks to some of these awesome comments you have left me, I was able to update - and I feel improve the Loki-Harry scene at the end of Chapter 6, with the rest of the Chapter also having a few edits and changes. Chapter 7 also has had a few minor changes. So, yeah, feel free to go back and read the updated versions of the last 2 chapters.
Third: in echo of my last message I left on this fic: I have (obviously) NOT abandoned this fic (nor any of my other ones), its thus that real life - namely my thesis - does take up quite a bit of my time, so please bare with me, even if the time between updates is long / sporadic
Fourth: in echo to my first comment this latest chapter was not beta-ed; given that many have asked when there will be an update - and also, egoistically, the fact that today is my birthday, I really wanted to send this chapter out, rather than wait a bit longer for it to be beta read. So I apologise in advanced for any mistakes/grammatical errors... though I assume, most will have preferred a chapter update now, with a couple mistakes than waiting even longer...
Some parts of the text in this chapter have been taken from HP& the Philosopher's Stone, HP& the Chamber of Secrets, and the 'The Avengers' (2012) film
CHAPTER 8
"Phoenixes burst into flame when it is time for them to die and are reborn from the ashes. Watch him..."- Harry Potter and the Chamber of Secrets
It was an undeniable fact that since waking, other than slowly adapting and getting to grips with the whole being in the future, Steve had been bored out of his mind.
He had slept for 66 years. Now he was restless.
In seventy years, Brooklyn - along with the rest of New York - had changed, all while still being the same. Buildings - Manhattan - had gotten taller (and shinier), ever trying to reach the skies, with only those with money to spend able to achieve it. The rest still remained glued to the ground, unable to be part of this man-made heaven. The roads had a few more cracks, with parts having been quickly put back together, like the skin of a boxer who didn't have the money to buy bandages after a match (one possibly addicted to tattoos and scarification).[1]
In his old block, the bakery on the corner was now a part of a coffee chain, the barber shop had turned into a deli with one of the city's many high-priced gyms on the upper floors. Even with a new coat of paint - a new name - most of the shop fronts were similar to what they had been: large windows showing a greater choice of pastries - snacks - candy, doodads, or frocks (though the skirts were definitely shorter and most of the gadgets required electricity to work). Even with all Steve was still trying to get his head round, the people were the same. They went about their days, working sometimes 2, 3 or even 4 jobs, with half not American. Not yet at least. Though some might not ever become (or want to). His building had more than one 'alien' sending money back home until they could go back themselves. There were also those who had escaped one of the many countries where there had been clashes, some convinced (hoping) that the troubles would soon calm down enough for them to return back. Heck, Chinatown actually had Chinese[2] - and a great many of them at that. Steve had ended up there once for everyone around him not speaking a lick of English. It hadn't been all that different to when he had wondered down the Bensonhurst neighbourhood to be surrounded by Italian[3], 70 years ago.
Though the fact that Howard Stark had actually gotten hitched, along with the kid - a kid just as self-assured and pompous, if not more so, as himself - and the picket fence (although a whole menagerie - including a bloody flamingo - rather than the staple dog) had thrown Steve all out of whack. He could hear Buck cracking up from the grave.
Well, now he stared in gaping horror the huge creature descending from the heavens. To think it would take just another 67 years for Schmidt to get most of what he had planned: the Tesseract kick starting an attack on New York.
Needless to say, Steve sure wasn't bored anymore. — If anything, he might be out of his depth. Aliens and magic were a whole different ball park to Nazis and HYDRA.
(Steve probably owed Fury another ten bucks.)
They were fighting (losing), outnumbered (and then some). Not that that would stop him.
The streets were chaos. A battle ground that Steve recognised all too well. Whatever battle, whoever the enemy, the outcome was always the same: pain, destruction, death.
Though, the fact that it was in their home turf didn't sit well with him. Heck, while some remembered Pearl Harbour, most had only read about it in History books. For Steve, it was as if the US had been attacked barely four years ago. —Then again, with a vicious punch to the gut, Steve was reminded that these people - this city - that been attacked just over ten years ago.
Once Stark (junior) had figured out where Loki was heading, the playboy billionaire (junior) had stayed just long enough to share his destination (along with a few curse words that would have had Missus M boxing Bucky and Steve's ears) and put his (damaged) metal suit back on, before flying off.
When relaying the information to the others, Thor Odinson had just as quickly placed the care of the huge snake into the arms of the first SHIELD person he had seen, and called his magical hammer. Of course, this was when Agent Romanoff had pointed out to the once more cape-crusader that he had no idea where New York was, let alone Stark Tower (especially given that Stark's suit was no longer in sight). Odinson had grumbled all while following both agents and Steve onto the quinjet.
That was, until the great big blue beam had pierced through the sky in front of them, even before they could see the New York skyline. The thunder god had proceeded to jump ship, without so much as a by-you-leave, leaving Barton cursing like a sailor about magical-gods, for all the 'electronic static' (Steve was pretty sure that's what he had said?) that had incurred along with the shaking of the jet. (A few choice words might have rung through Steve mind as well, not that he would dare say them out loud.)
Stark was already fighting the Chitauri in the sky when they had (finally) arrived. Romanoff soon joined him as added air support. Barton had swung down to one of the closest roofs with an advantaged view point, shooting arrows at anything alien-looking. As for Steve, jumping down onto a bus on Park Avenue, he gave support to the first responders already on the ground (looking all the more lost in how to deal with magic portals and aliens shoot down at them than Steve) and helping with the civilians still trapped outside.
Odinson, on the other hand, was nowhere in sight. Still, Stark mentioned something about a superman-like flurry of red (Steve actually getting the reference) shooting straight into his penthouse some time ago. Hopefully, he was off dealing with Loki.
Of course, Stark had also already confirmed that along with Loki, the kid - Slytherin - was indeed also in Stark's penthouse.
The good news: last time Stark had been able see him 'mini-Gandalf' was 'unharmed and not bright-blue-eyed'. —Or really, the 'glow-stick of destiny' hadn't worked on him.
The bad news: that had been just around the time Odinson had jumped off the jet. -Just as it had been when Stark had been thrown out of his penthouse, for his attention to have been quickly taken over by the Chitauri descending from the huge hole in the sky. Loki on the other hand was still in the penthouse with Slytherin. According to Stark, the surveillance feed coming from the Tower had cut just after Loki had sent two blasts of blue energy straight to the kid — the second getting a hit, clipping the kid on his shoulder. Steve could only hope Stark was right in thinking the cut in the feed was the space-bird and his 'fire transportation act'.
Which was also when they had been informed of the second (worse) bad news: the barrier around the Tesseract was impenetrable.
And then that huge... —thing had slid out of the hole in the sky. A whale of a thing, descending from the heavens, bringing with it all the more cries of terror, all the more chaos — all the more devastation. — All the more Chitauri landing around Steve.
... And then there was the music.
With all the different battle sounds and cries going on around him, Steve wasn't actually sure when it actually started playing...
Somewhere high up out in the city, it played, slowly getting louder and louder. Steve had never heard something like it before. Something of terrible beauty. And Steve felt the music inside him. It was his own pain — their own pain - turned magically to song that echoed across the scarred pavement, the resonated against the tall glass windows (those which hadn't yet been smashed) and travelled through the whole city...
This was what his Sunday school teacher, Mrs Fergusson, had gone on about: something so divine - so immense - so beautiful, no man could truly understand it, and it made your heart ache because of it...
The music soared higher and farther than anybody dared to dream. It was like they had been drowning... and now they weren't...
This is what hope sounded like.
This was the resilience that existed in this city. That same hope and resilience that had been there 70 years ago. That had existed with every person getting off the boats at Elis Island. That had existed since the first settlers, back when New York was still known as New Amsterdam...
A want to not only survive — a want to live.
And it filled his whole being.
It stirred him forward like only the serum was able to. Each hit became slightly less taxing. Each swing of the shield a little lighter...
He could do this all day.
— Through the ethereal notes, the comm. buzzed and Stark's voice came through, {"Hulk and the space-bird are back... —Oh -and the kid's got his magic sword back."}
Steve looked up.
Indeed, on top of the great big monster-thing, things appeared to be heating up.
Literally.
The bird was flying over and around the great big mass, looking even more like it was on fire. And while Steve couldn't actually spot Slytherin, along with the bird, the Hulk and Odinson continually popped in and out of view as they moved on and around the monster, fighting off Chitauri also on the beast's back. Steve could only assume (hope) the three of them were keeping an eye on the kid, protecting him and keeping the Chitauri busy -
—Speaking of which, Steve was forced to duck, as a couple of foot soldiers sent jets of deadly blue light straight at him. He jumped off to the side, to swing his shield, hitting both - one after the other - before it returned back to him. Not that he got much of a breather. Three more were already heading his way...
Before he could react though, a great big groan-growl came from above. Steve looked up - along with his adversaries —
To quickly run out the way as the giant monster slowly crashed down on Park Avenue— taking with it two of the three Chitauri who hadn't been fast enough to escape its huge bulk. With another swing of the shield Steve quickly took care of the last one — along with another a few feet away.
Steve gave a shuttered breath as he watched the alien-monster-thing continue crash-sliding past him to stop a block further down.
Keeping an eye out for more Chitauri on the ground (taking out a couple more), he looked the length of the beast.
The Hulk and Odinson were dealing with stragglers, the Hulk actually grabbing several in a quick sweep of the arm, to use them to knocking several more — a flash of light caught Steve's attention, for him to find the kid, indeed holding a sword more than half his height[4] to swing it wide, hitting a Chitauri — before blasting another with his magic stick - wand.
Several Chitauri coming his way forced Steve to return to his own battle, raising his shield and slamming it against an incoming threat — a triple bolt of lightning speared through three who had been approaching him from behind.
The hit was quickly followed by Thor landing next to Steve as the last of Chitauri was taken care of.
A piercing shriek overhead had both looking up. They watched as the haybrock swooped down onto one of the flying chariots to attack its pilot, ending with the vessel crashing into a building, while the bird burst into flames —to reappear over another alien craft, to do a similar attack. — Guess that's what Romanoff meant by 'great big ball of fire'.
"Hábrók are truly wondrous creatures," Thor bellowed, in a mix of awe and pride, to throw his glowing hammer at several oncoming hostiles.
Yeah, 'wondrous' indeed; a small shudder ran through Steve as the bird went straight for the eyes of a Chitauri pilot, clawing at them viciously.
Speaking of which —
"Where's Loki?"
Thor grinned, for him to smile like a proud father, "The giant took care of Loki, for Young Harrý to bind him with his enchantments."
Steve turned, to find the Hulk and Slytherin had joined them. The Hulk grumbled something about 'puny gods', to let out a great big war cry —
One echoed by the Chitauri hanging off the various buildings surrounding them.
As for Slytherin (looking all the more tiny next to the green giant), he had wand in one hand and sword in the other (with green gunk slowly sliding off of it, leaving little doubt for what it had been used) raised at the ready, eyes jumping from one threat to the next.
While the kid definitely had heart - and possibly made Steve think of himself at that age - this was no place for a kid. Steve opened his mouth—
Only for Harry to look past him, and yell 'EXPE-something!' — Steve snapped round, to see the unnoticed advancing Chitauri's spear-gun fly out of his hand. Steve was quick to catch it — to just as quickly pierce the Chitauri through with it...
Catching his breath, Steve gave a sweep of the area. There weren't any more threats nearby (Hulk had grabbed several, while Thor was up in the air once more, sending bolts of lightning to several more).
With the brief hiatus, Steve dared to look back at Harry and gave him a nod, "Thanks, that was very brave of you Sl—Harry... though a battle field is no place for a child," the statement ending with a pointed stare at both the Hulk and Thor. While the giant just gave Steve a grunt, the Asgardian god had the decency to look contrite. On the other hand —
"It's not my first time dealing with dangerous situations —or animals," the kid stubbornly replied. Yeah, Steve could definitely see a lot of his younger self in Harry. No wonder Bucky got frustrated dealing with his younger scrawny self.
Steve secretly acknowledged that other than Thor, the kid was probably the most knowledgeable – or at least, the most familiar with this out-of-this-world attack. Still, giving Harry a weak smile, Steve couldn't help but insist, "But that doesn't make it right; you shouldn't be the one dealing with it."
Harry frowned, to grumble, "Well, at least it wasn't a basilisk this time."
Steve blinked, unsure how to respond.
"Did the kid just say basilisk? —Actually, never mind - though we'll definitely talk about that not-at-all offhanded comment later. First though: we need to deal with all this... —" Stark, hovering over head, was clearly also having trouble finding the words to describe the whole of what they were facing.
"Kudos on the whole stabbing the huge flying slug 'Dracula style'" - Thor interjecting calling the beast a 'Leviathan' - "but you'll need to sit the rest of this out kid."
The remark made Steve feel guilty for thinking Stark irresponsible when it came to the kid. He wouldn't have put it past the billionaire to let the ten-eleven year old continue to battle it out.
"What's the play Cap'?"
But before Steve could say more - or send Harry away from danger, the boy in question called their respective attentions —
"Umm, excuse me..."
He turned to Harry, the kid shifting awkwardly, biting his lip, as if he hadn't just stabbed a huge space monster, "There... I — I might have an idea about 'dealing with all this'."
One that he didn't seem to like much, going by the grim look on his face.
Harry didn't like the idea. (To be fair, the Hat wasn't too enthused by the idea either.)
Especially given that it involved Loki's staff.
But they had also both agreed that it was also the idea that was the most likely to succeed — especially given the power of the staff. And it's more than likely link to the Tesseract.
To which they were going to use it, despite their wariness.
At least Harry had overcome the thrall of the staff... That's what he focused on as Fawkes transported Agent Barton and himself back up the tower.
Inside Mr Stark's living room they found both Loki (still bound and unconscious) and the staff where they had left them. Agent Barton glared down at Loki unmovable form, his fingers twitching to his bow and quiver still holding quiet a lot of arrows. The god had put the agent under the staff's control after all. Still, Harry hoped the agent wasn't going to do anything to the unresponsive god.
But Mr Barton only stared at the unmovable god of mischief a beat longer, before he turned his troubled gaze back onto Harry, "You sure about this kid?"
Clearly, he still not fully convinced by the whole thing — or by Harry's involvement. When they had still been on the ground the agent had voiced his own concerns, protesting Harry's direct involvement in the battle. Echoing Captain Steve's words he had underlined that Harry was just a kid, not even a teenager yet. To which, the Hulk had grumbled, while Thor had pointed out (before Harry could do so for himself) that apart from Loki (who was definitely not an option), he was the only one with the magical skill to pull it off.
Indeed, Harry had been rather affronted by the remark; it was his idea—
'Hum-hum.'
Well, it was the Hat's idea —but they didn't know that.
Staring back at the agent, Harry gave him the best reassuring nod he could, "yes, I'm sure."
There was a beat - brown eyes staring into Harry's green - for Mr Barton to give him a nod. Harry let out a small exhale, to turn and focus his attention on the staff.
He had already put the sword back in the Hat (with Mr Stark having grumbled about it not being 'physically possible!'), so all that was left to do was go straight for the staff... and — steeling himself a final time —
Harry picked it up.
A rush ran through him — for the staff to pulse in his right hand. Just as in look, it couldn't have felt more different from his wand in his left hand. It was definitely longer than Gryffindor's sword (nearly as tall as Harry) — definitely heavier than his wand[5]. Nor was there any of the warmth from the swords' handle or from the holly-and-phoenix wand. Instead there was a cold strange buzz. Cold and heavy...
'The wand chooses the wizard.'
Was the staff judging him?
Was it taking measure of Harry, was he 'worthy' enough to hold it?[6] —
He must have been starring down at the staff a little too long, as both the Hat and Agent Barton called his attention, "You alright there kid —Harry?" - 'Harry?' - While Fawkes gave a thrill of concern.
Eyes slowly moving from the blue stone, Harry looked up to the agent, "Y-yeah... fine."
I'm fine, he repeated inside his head.
Whether it was for more the Hat or himself, Harry wasn't sure.
Either way, the staff continued to pulse through his fingers, cold and heavy.
The air hit Harry's face, helping him clear his mind - getting his bearings - as soon as they landed on the tower's roof.
Then again, so did the sounds of the chaos reaching their ears once more.
Looking out to the rest of the city, Thor was the most eye-catching. Especially as he called on a great amount of thunder to his hammer from the pointed top of one of the skyscrapers — to direct it straight for the large beam of light and the 'Chitauri' and 'Leviathans' that continued to descend from the black hole.
Mr Stark's bright red and gold suit whizzed by several times with aliens ships hot on his tail, like he was in a quidditch match evading the bludgers after him (very much the Gryffindor, visually and in action). To which there was the future-looking plane that shot down several following Mr Stark. — Agent Barton was quick to send multiple arrows at the same time to the few that had managed to evade the jet's fire.
As Mr Barton shot several more arrows at enemy ships that got too close to the tower, Harry stepped closer to the edge, the wind whipping all the more against his face. While Captain Steve was nowhere in sight, what with them being so far up, Mr Hulk was easily identifiable. The green giant was currently jumping from building facade to the next, smashing as many Chitauri as he could get his huge hands on.
And then there was the huge beam of blue light in front of them, looking all that much bigger and intense than it had in the secret laboratory...
— Along with the muggle from the SHIELD's secret laboratory. The scientist looked like he had just woken from the worse nightmare, with a just as painful headache to take its place.
Fawkes thrilled past Harry, to land near the man's shoulder.
While Agent Barton also moved to the scientist, the Hat started speaking again, Harry giving him all his focus (along with reminding himself it was Fawkes — and the staff that were going to be doing most of the work — and power).
He was fine.
He carefully placed the staff on the ground. He would do the spell once first without it. Just him and his wand.
The Hat once more repeated what he had already told Harry — still, Harry concentrated on what his words, as he explained once more. (They only had one shot.)
The spell was different from 'incendio', the only fire spell Harry knew. It was more a 'song' - like a siren's song, it called - pleaded to the powers that be for their aid. With the Hat's words, Harry remembered Professor Dumbledore's own back at the start of first year, of music being 'a magic beyond all' done at Hogwarts[7].—
They were calling on - harnessing - the last lingering magics of Beltane. — Apparently they were lucky to have had the attack so close to the start of the summer — season linked to 'fire'. With the sun at its highest, it could only be an advantage. (Apparently it would have been even better if the moon had also been visible, reflecting the sun's power, but they could and would make do without it.)
'Just as a fire burns through a forest, burning the old growth away, leaving no trace of what it burnt besides ashes, to allow space for the new forest to emerge from beneath - this will allow to purge this world of unwanted threats...'
Then there was also the 'residual magic' from having travelled dimensions that both the Hat and Fawkes seemed to think still clung to their person (— or, bird and cloth in their cases).
And there was Fawkes himself. Fawkes was a phoenix, the literal symbol for fire - life - cleansing - purification - renewal. Not to mention the link between Harry's wand and Fawkes. (The Hat had also been quick to reassure Harry that his wand would not burn and turn to ash from the spell, even with the amount of flames that was to be called forth - nor would Harry... or Mr Barton...
Only that that tainted - that that spoiled and destroyed - would be purged.
— Fawkes who would be doing most of the work.
All Harry had to do was ignite the 'purification' ritual — well, ignite and keep the 'conduit' open.
Fawkes would guide and empower the flame.
Taking an unsteady breath, Harry focused on the seven parts of the song-spell-call, whispering each, one after the other, focusing on what they meant - what each was calling — asking...
'Adhain adhantaí...' (Ignite fire-lighter)
'- éirigh suas dóiteánaí...' (rise up fire-raiser)
'- gríosaigh borbthine...' (inflame fierce fire)
— the wand warmed with each one whisper, letting off sparks after the third —
'- ag loscadh agus ag...' (burn and slay)
'- úraigh...' (cleanse)
— a soft coo came from next to him, Fawkes having joined him at some point —
'- imghlan...' (purify)
'- choíche amháin fuinseog seadaigh' (until only ash remain)[8]
The song ended with a last long stream of colours leaving Harry's wand, going from yellow - to orange - to red...
Harry gave a shudder as the stream ended —
'You did well Harry... all will be well; you will do wonderfully.'
Willing the Hat's words to reassure him, he looked back up to the machine with the Tesseract — to find both agent and scientist staring at him, with looks going between awe and wariness...
Of course, they had been under the thrall of the staff — of otherworldly magic.
'You were as well Harry. — All three of you were attacked by the staff's magic, victims of its invasive magic. That all three of you shared this experience — they could help with dealing with this threat, it will make the calling all the more compelling.'[9]
Trusting the Hat (once more), as it started explaining more about the significance of the number three in Celtic mythology, Harry moved to the two men. He relayed to them what the Hat told him of the song - about them all being 'victims' the staff's magic — about what would happen next.
Harry could feel his heart beating frantically in his chest.
His wand was held aloft in his right hand, warm and welcoming...
Though the staff was not in his hands as first planned...
Harry looked to the muggle scientist - Dr Selvig, his mind reminded him - along with Agent Barton, both holding the staff in hand, level pointed at the glowing sphere. Both, agent first, followed more tentatively Selvig, gave him a nod. Whether they were of encouragement or to let him know they were ready, Harry wasn't sure. In the end, it hardly mattered.
What did matter was the huge beam in front of them and the staff and wand in their hands.
The Hat whispered words of encouragement. Fawkes trilled next to him.
He took a deep breath, pointed his own wand to the sphere — and stepped forward, at the ready;
Ignite — that was all he needed to do...
Another breath...
— He opened his mouth... and started to chant...
... he wasn't sure when but at some point he realised the Hat had started singing along with him...
... and there was Fawkes... of course he knew that Fawkes would be signing, as he slowly rose with the fire... as he guided the fire...
... the song was different from the previous ones — different from what Harry was signing, yet somehow they blended together like an orchestra...
... noticed Dr Selvig also singing — as was Mr Barton...
— There was a sudden rush as the staff finally pierced through the sphere, for the flames from Harry's wand to quickly reach for the centre - and quickly engulf the whole of the sphere...
— for a warm breeze hit Harry squarely in the face...
Natalia[10] had seen many things in her life (some she had done herself that she was not proud of). Just as the number of things she had witnessed (or done) with SHIELD made it hard for her to find something to actually bat an eye at.
But this...
First there had been the — event in the Helicarrier.
But then there had been Clint, and he had needed her (to punch him out cold). Followed by Rogers telling them about Stark having used his genius for good and had figured out where Loki had gone. And then there had been the aliens, Natalia swerving and firing the quinjet, aiming for all hostiles without prejudice, like most mission she had been called on (whether with the Красная Комната, the КГБ[11] or with SHIELD).
And now there was this...
While she had never been told the tales herself (she never had the parents or the childhood o be told the tales), Natalia knew of Russian folk stories. Amongst the colourful tales of the witch Baba Yaga and Koshchei the Deathless, there was also the tale tells of the Fire Bird - Жар-птица - an enchanted creature with fiery plumage. Much like other creatures from these tales, the Fire Bird could either be good or bad, terrifying or benevolent, and could bestow favourable or hostile enchantments. Above all, they must never be antagonized! At least that was how the moral usually played out.
It was only now that Natalia truly understood. Understood what she had seen when the bird had become a fireball above the Hulk and taken it far away before it had beaten her to a pulp. Understood what Odinson meant when he had talked of seidrs having powers equal to those of who supposedly created the universe. Understood the full scope of awe Thor attached to the Hábrók...
Clint had barely been able to give them a warning before there came the boom — all unable to stop themselves from staring (as did the Chitauri about to shoot at the quinjet) —
- they watched the flames slowly climb up, encircling the beam of blue —
— as was the bird - signing all that much louder —
— most of the Chitauri chariots started charging straight for it — Natalia not far behind
— The beam of blue light looked to be encircled — slowly consumed by the rising helix, the fire whirling a deep red — for the beam to be completely engulfed — a great big WHOOOF of heat to spread over the city, as the fire hit the edge of the space hole —
— A large part seemed to suck through it, while flames continued to eat at the beam - burning it, until there was nothing more, the hole closing —
Natalia watched Chitauri crafts fall from the sky, to crash on the streets below. The second Leviathan who had managed to get through Thor's lighting fell from the sky, crashing onto one of the buildings below.
His body was aching, especially his arm holding his wand out, becoming heavier by the minute...
By now the fire was so intense it was now a blurred stream of colours and sounds - it was so loud that the roaring in his ears was deafening — he tried to keep his eyes open but the whirl of red-orange-gold flames made him feel woozy, not even able to squint, and then —
A needle-sharp pain seared across Harry's scar; his head felt as though it was about to split in two; he yelled, struggling with all his might... — yet the pain only built further — he couldn't see — he could only hear Fawkes' singing - the flames burning brighter - stronger - glowing through his eyelids — a bonfire of raging through his very being —from the flames came terrible shrieks — and other voices, maybe in Harry's own head, crying, "Harry! Harry!" — his only chance was to keep hold —
He fell; face forward, onto the gravel...
Everything around him seemed to be spinning.
The white-hot pain from his scar was slowly cooling...
Dizzy and bruised, covered in soot, he took a breath... and then another...
He gripped his wand, holding it like a life line... Until finally, gingerly, he slowly looked up and got to his feet, feeling like a new born deer learning to walk.
There was a ruffling, followed by a small chirp. Harry looked to see a tiny, wrinkled, newborn bird poke its head out of the ash still descending from the sky. He was as ugly as he had been in Professor Dumbledore's office.
"Fawkes," said Harry thickly. "You were fantastic, Fawkes..."
Footsteps crunched, for a shadow to move in front of them.
"You did good kid — both of you," spoke Mr Barton's voice above them.
Harry forced himself to look up.
The scientist was holding what remained of the staff. Unlike his phoenix wand, the staff had melted with the outer shell of its core cracking, leaving only a smaller brighter yellow stone from within. Even the Tesseract had not been spared. It had cracked into thousands of pieces during the ritual, for all that remained was its own core: a similar looking stone — though this one remained blue.
As for Agent Barton, he was holding his bow and arrows once more — thankfully not needing to be shooting at anything, just staring down at Fawkes and Harry.
Baby-Fawkes gave another chirp, for the Hat to voice his own words of praise —
The next moment, Harry could only watch as the chick chirped once more to hop towards the gold-yellow stone from the staff that had fallen not far from the both of them. The stone was nearly as big as Baby Fawkes — he pecked at it several times —
— to swallow it — FAWKES!
[1] Paragraph/text inspired by a scene in the French film 'Chinese Puzzle' (Original title: Casse-tête chinois) where the main character describes New York imdb /title/tt1937118/
[2] While I'm not denying that there were Chinese/Americans of Chinese/Asian descent in New York and in Chinatown in the 1940s, there was definitely a lot less than now/in 2012, both in population and in percentage of New York's global population, especially due to the various anti-Chinese movements + immigration laws in the late 1800s and 1900s; percentage of Asians in NYC in 1940: 0.24% / in 2010: 12.77%: wiki/Demographic_history_of_New_York_City ; wiki/History_of_Chinese_Americans#Anti-Chinese_movement ; wiki/Chinatown,_Manhattan ; wiki/Immigration_Act_of_1924 ; wiki/List_of_United_States_immigration_laws
[3] Traditionally, Bensonhurst is known as a Little Italy of Brooklyn due to its large Italian-American population. Bensonhurst actually now has the largest population of residents born in China/Hong Kong of any neighborhood in New York, and is now home to Brooklyn's second Chinatown. wiki/Bensonhurst, Brooklyn
[4] Ulfberht swords were avg. 91cm / 36in ; a 10 yr old boy: avg. 138.5 cm / 54.5 in and an 11 yr old boy 143.5cm / 56.4 in wiki/Ulfberht_swords
[5] On the MCU website is states the sceptre being approximately two feet (24 in) in length overall (i.e. ~61 cm) / other sites say it is 45 in long (114.3 cm) or even 65 in (165.1cm), just as the staff/sceptre does seem to vary in terms of length depending on the clip/scene in the films; Harry is somewhere between 138.5 cm / 54.5in (avg. 10 yr old boy) and 143.5cm / 56.4 in (avg. 11 yr old boy); I'm gonna say that for this fic, the sceptre-staff is just shorter than Harry.
[6] the staff - similar to wands/Elder Wand - continually in search for the best wielder - Harry and his 'internal magic' is definitely a strong candidate/contender
[7] "Ah, music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!" - HP & the Philosopher's Stone
[8] The ritual's 'song' is totally made up, and is supposed to be in Celtic (Beltane is, amongst others, a Celtic celebration); the words/translation are from this site. Apologies if there are mistakes in the word choice from the translation teanglann /en/fgb/purify
[9] While the number 7 the Harry Potter magical world is said to be the most powerful number, I'm going to 'clarify'/'twist' this slightly. Inspired by various texts and even books/films/series, the one coming to mind at the moment being 'American Gods', I'm going with more the idea that power is where people believe there is power. I.e.: belief increases power, and with more people believing a certain thing would add to its power. And with this, in Greco-Roman mythos (with Hogwarts' education seeming to be mainly based on this) 7 is believed to be the most powerful number, just as 3 is powerful. Whereas in Celtic mythology: 3 (and its multiples), 5, 13 and 17 are the more sacred/powerful numbers.
(Other examples: 8 is the most powerful number in several Asian cultures - along with 3 and 5 and 13 being powerful; 9 is the most powerful for Norse-Germanic mythos - with 3, 7 and 8 also being powerful)
Sources for the Celtic Mythos: /3782 + coraharrison /wolf/Irishmyths
[10] I like the idea that Natasha identify herself as 'Natalia' in her head; a 'blemish'/'scar' from her past that she can't/won't allow herself to erase
[11] Красная Комната = Red Room + КГБ = KGB in Russian; I feel like Natalia/Natasha would think of both organisations in her native Russian in her head
Author note: in anticipation of possible comments: yes the purification-fire ritual did 'attack' at the Horcrux in Harry, but no it did not destroy it (just weakened it a little bit) - the ritual's main aim/purpose was its direct link to the threat of this world brought on namely by the staff - horcrux not included in this + mostly dormant