Chapter 15

With SHIELD knowing he was in Italy, Harry decided that the smartest thing to do was to not be in Italy. It was incredibly likely that SHIELD would be watching airports for him, and he didn't want to put his faith into creating another illusion, lest it fail or they had some other way to identify him. Unless he wanted to risk Harry Potter being seen, he would have to use a different method of travel. So after writing a quick letter to Marco alerting him of urgent business abroad that required him for an undisclosed amount of time, Harry cleared out his apartment and headed for the nearest Portkey Office.

Whilst a Portkey was far from an ideal method of travel, it was his best option. Holding an illusion over a distance of multiple miles had rended him too tired to apparate, and he wouldn't have been able to make it far anyway. The Floo network was not capable of crossing international borders, so unless he felt like running or swimming, it would have to do. Since all of his documents were forged, courtesy of Marco, Harry decided it would be best not to officially buy a Portkey, especially seeing as though SHIELD might think to look into magical records as well, seeking someone matching his description.

Unfortunately, he had no idea how to make a Portkey, and international ones were closely tracked anyway. He had decided that he would have to steal one or hitch a ride, but that meant he wouldn't have a choice as to where he was going. It would also mean that he would have to avoid the authorities of the country he arrived who would undoubtedly be waiting for any new arrivals – that was if he didn't manage to dodge them altogether.

By the time he had arrived at Orrizo Alley's Portkey Office, he had decided not to take the approach of a direct assault. If he was smart about this, no one would even know what he had done.

After entering the large building he went over to what appeared to be the waiting area, sitting down on a seat and listening to those around him.

"Come on," said a woman who appeared to be the mother of the two children she was with, "our Portkey leaves exactly at 6:00, and if we miss it we'll have to pay for another one!" She looked at who Harry guessed was her husband. "Make sure that we've got everything!"

Harry looked to his watch. 5:58. 'We'll be going with them,' he said to Loki.

'Okay, and don't look at your watch again. It might raise suspicion. I'll count the time for us.'

'Someone looking at their watch isn't suspicious. You're just paranoid and want the chance to show off your counting skills.'

'You cannot fault me for that,' Loki drawled. 'As with every part of me, they are quite phenomenal. Now concentrate, they're moving.'

True to his word, the family of four moved over to a quite deserted spot over by the toilets, dragging their trunks after them. A short while later, Harry hoisted the expanded backpack with his belongings in onto his back, fastened the black cloak he was using to conceal his face, and followed them over.

'Ten seconds,' said Loki.

Harry was getting closer.

'Five seconds.'

He was nearing them even further.

'Three seconds.'

And then he tripped over, his arms lashing out as he fell and grabbing the man's leg to support himself – and then the world beneath him suddenly vanished as he was hooked in the navel by a force and dragged forward by the man's leg, unable to unleash his grip. Suddenly, he felt his perception of time slow as Loki poured all of his energy into doing it, altering Harry's brain at the same time as he repaired it to ensure no damage was caused. The few moments Harry would have otherwise had to carry out his plan were extended to a few seconds - and that was all he needed.

Ignoring the swirling colours around him, he pushed a blast of Asgardian magic forward and out of his hand. A flash of orange overwhelmed his vision, and then with a final yank upon his stomach, he was a few hundred feet above the ground and rapidly falling towards the green fields sprawled out below. Whilst this had been a possibility, it wasn't exactly likely, and he hadn't really planned for such an occurrence. After all, there wasn't much information about people separating themselves from Portkeys, either because in order to do it you'd need to do extremely fast wordless and wandless magic, or because no one was stupid enough to do it.

Asgardian magic was much faster to cast, and for a slight moment Harry contemplated what it had done to the people he had hitched a ride from. Perhaps he had blown the man's leg off, or perhaps he had sent him careering off into the Rivers of Time. The latter was highly unlikely, but it would be a cool last resort if he ever needed to kill someone in the future.

A few moments later, with Harry a few metres closer to the ground, he subconsciously registered that his thinking of things like that at a time like this could have been a symptom of magical exhaustion. Luckily for him, he consciously registered that it might be a good idea to halt his free-fall.

Calling up what little was left of his magical reserves, he pulled his wand from his sleeve and idly cast a cushioning charm over himself, his wand flying from his hand and up into the air directly afterwards. A second or two later he slammed against the ground, bounced once, twice, and then rolled to a stop. Even through his charm, that had hurt a hell of a lot, and a human would be left crippled or dead.

'Loki?' he questioned. From the lack of response he guessed that the time slowing had exhausted the god as much as having to pour out almost all of his magic power to dispel the Portkey's energies had exhausted him. 'I think I'm going to sleep now,' he said, and sleep he did.


When Harry awoke, it appeared to be just before the time of sunrise. If he had possessed any hell of an idea where he was, that might have given him a bearing on how long he had slept.

'Any idea where we are, Loki?'

'Well, from the grass beneath us, I can determine that we're on Earth, and from the position of the stars, I can tell that I never bothered to learn how celestially navigate Midgard.'

Harry rolled his eyes and set out to find his wand. Using Loki's magic sensitive senses and the bond he and the wand shared, it wasn't very difficult and it was quite easily found buried up to the handle in the dirt. After pulling it out and ensuring he had all his belongings, Harry set off in a random direction.

It was not too long before he came across a road. When he noticed the signs were in English, the cars were driving on the left, and there weren't any kangaroos or koalas roaming around, it didn't take him long to guess where he was. To England he had returned, and how he had not missed it.

Taking off his disguise necklace, he chucked it up into the air and slashed through it. SHIELD had found him in both Russia and Italy, so he didn't doubt that they could find him here, especially since they had a record of that face. He would have to create a new one, of course, seeing as Harry Potter would be more recognisable here than in any other part of the world.

For now he could just settle for holding one up himself which he would easily be able to keep up except when he was asleep. That shouldn't have been too much of a problem, given his recent twelve hour nap in a field. His appearance shimmered, his hair lightening, eyes darkening, scar disappearing, and facial features rearranging. Then he set off towards the nearest town, from which he would get a cab to London, from which he would...do…something?

Suffice to say, he hadn't quite decided on his plans yet. From all of his robberies and work for Marco, he was rich, and further reading had revealed that the Potters had also been quite affluent, enough so to boost him beyond millionaire status. He didn't need money, so he would just go back to his oldest motivation: to gain more power.

After arriving at Leaky Cauldron, Harry rented a room using some galleons he still had for some reason, not willing to risk being found to be using illusionary money. Then he began to carve another illusion necklace, only making minor changes from the one before. As with the disguise he had kept over himself on his journey to London, this one gave him brown hair, brown eyes, hid his scar, and changing his facial features.

So after putting it on, Harry headed out into Diagon Alley for the first time in years. To his annoyance, it being summer meant the inevitable presence of children and teenagers.

'Would it be wise for me to remind you that you are also one?' Loki wondered aloud.

'I don't count,' Harry explained. 'I work out my age by calculating an average between us two, so I'm actually the oldest human alive.'

Loki snorted. 'It is a bit of a push to call you human.'

'Well, saying I'm the oldest wizard-Jotun-Asgardian hybrid alive doesn't have quite the same ring to it, seeing as I'm the only one to ever exist.'

'There might be another if I ever bred with mortals.'

Harry paused. 'Did you?'

'It is a slight possibility. As you know, my early attempts at shapeshifting led me to discover that there is a reason why it is a long-forgotten magic – your personality changes completely. I had Fenrir, Jogmungandr, and Sleipnir before I managed to regain my sanity, which is probably a reason why they all turned out as abominations,' For a moment, Loki was silent. 'It is incredibly unlikely, however, that I would have a child with a mortal. I would remember if I birthed them, and shattered pelvic bones would make it rather difficult for a female to survive a pregnancy, but-'

'What?!' Harry interrupted. He already knew about shapeshifting into other people driving Loki insane – it was why the god refused to let him become an animagus – but the second part….

'Asgardians – especially one as powerful as I – have strength far superior to humans. This strength is not only present in our arms and legs, believe it or not. In times of excitement it is rather easy to lose control. Has this never occurred to you before?'

Stunned into silence, Harry took a few seconds to formulate an answer. 'I don't tend to imagine you – or any other Asgardian for that matter – having sex all that often, so no, it hasn't occurred to me.'

'That would likely change if you knew what Lady Sif looked like – after all, you are a hormonal teenager,' the god mocked, and then he paused for a few seconds. 'On a similar note, you probably shouldn't have children in case the deformities of mine are due to my Jotun blood rather than shapeshifting.'

'I really didn't need to know that, but nonetheless, I'll keep it in mind to use protection whilst I accidentally destroy the hips of innocent girls.'

Loki hummed. 'You're probably not that strong.' Harry felt slight relief at that. 'You should worry more about dislocation or accidentally freezing them in a moment of pubescent excitement.'

'Don't worry,' Harry drawled, his tone thick with sarcasm. 'I'm sure as the glorious Boy-Who-Lived, I have a nigh-on limitless supply of fangirls lusting after me. The love they bear for their idol cannot be breached by something as petty as major injury, or death.'

'I wonder if that love extends to covering up crimes for you,' Loki mused aloud. 'Not that any host of mine would ever be caught committing a crime – because of your overwhelming benevolence, of course.'

Harry snorted. 'Fear not, if any attempt to falsely accuse me of any wrongdoing – like murder, for example, or something ridiculous as being in the magical Mafia – they shall fall before my glorious righteousness.'

'How I wish cackling was not associated with villains,' Loki lamented. 'That is something we shall have to change as we rise up as evil dictators – I mean selfless democratic rulers, of course. 'Twas but a slip of the tongue.' And then he cackled.

A/N: So, Harry's back in England for now. I wonder what will happen... Cackles benevolently