Here goes Ch. IV! We of course don't own HP or Marvel. They belong to Rowling and Marvel respectively. This is a collaborative work between myself and Venerance. We also thank the help of Nauze and Philip Tomarys. Enjoy and R&R!

Venerance: Cheers to "TheShardsOfDarkness2138" for figuring out one of the easter eggs I planted in III. One (technically two) still continues in this chapter. If you find it (them) then here's a cookie for your efforts (::)! If you haven't, then I'll make sure to tell you guys what it is next chapter.

"Shit, shit! Heavy fire on our left flank!" Harry called out as he ducked behind the ruins of the crumbled wall. "Tsang! Shore it up!"

A sharp crack and loud scream burst through the air as Chandar turned his attention to their six. It was just them left. The original squad that was sent to patrol the town in the Kunar province disappeared and Harry's team was sent to investigate.

They found them alright.

Presented with copious amounts of blood and bullets. Stripped of weaponry, clothes, and ammo. Left in the open streets of the town as the town's militia and citizens jeered at their bare corpses. The entire squad was portrayed like an exhibit in a zoo as a sort of accomplishment. When the crowds spotted Harry and his squad approaching, they dispersed, giving them a clear view of the dead bodies.

It was a mess. Taking their bodies down from their poles, it was only luck which stopped them from being completely executed. As Harry lifted his first body off the pole and down in the structure across the street, he caught a fleeting glimpse of two men rushing into a nearby building. This wouldn't have originally disturbed him, but the weapons banging against their thighs did.

Looking to the windows, Harry searched the empty abysses until a certain green object had his eyes widening in terror. Following the general direction the weapon was pointed at, had him panicking.

"Tags, Hoyer!"

Their confused looks would be burned in Harry's memory as an unseen rocket flew into the ground beneath them. A wave of his arm had a shimmering Protego beginning to form in front of him before the shockwave of the blast tossed them into the walls of the property behind them.

"Tsang, Chandar, status!" Harry coughed out as he shifted the rubble off his body. Shouts of acknowledgement reverberated past the ringing in Harry's ears. Stepping onto the street, Harry began focusing his weapon on the mobs of people slowly entering the street.

"Back! Get back!" Harry yelled at the approaching crowd.

They didn't stop. While some looked hesitantly at Harry's weapon, the rest began shouting in unison. Jeers and cries echoed from the rabble as stones flew towards him.

"Don't do it… don't do it…," muttered Harry as he watched several members in the crowd brandishing black market weapons. Casting a quick glance behind him, he watched as the remaining members of his squad dragged the corpses into the building.

A crack forced Harry to stumble back. Narrowing his eyes at the one who shot at him. Harry pressed the trigger.

That was the beginning of how Harry found himself in this absolute hellhole.

As Chandar went to check the person caught in Tsang's trap, Harry began focusing on reinforcing his section of the building. It was just the three of them left, Tsang, Chandar, and Harry. The other two in their squad were instantly killed from the impact of the rocket.

"LT! We need support, stat!" Tsang called out as she ejected an empty magazine from her rifle. The building shook as several bullet holes appeared in the building's walls, forcing them to duck down.

"This is Juliet One, repeat, this is Juliet One," Harry shouted as he opened a line to command. "We have two men down. Enemy count is unknown. Our situation is completely FUBAR. Requesting ground and air support immediately!"

"Lieutenant, what is your current location?"

"The closest village to the southeast, Bravo team's last known location." Explosions shook the building as Harry rolled away from the pile of rubble. "We aren't going to last long here, we need immediate support now!"

A silence filled the line before the recipient at the end of the line sighed.

"Roger, Juliet One, mark your position with colored smoke for air support. ETA, six minutes."

Harry threw up a Protego just in time to catch a hail of bullets bombarding his position. Now wasn't the time for subtlety. This was a life or death situation. With enemy militia surrounding their building as they hid amongst the panicking civilians, Harry and his team couldn't afford to fire needlessly.

"Reparo! Bombarda!" The car on the street exploded into flames, pelting militia and rowdy civilians with shrapnel alike. Simultaneously, the pile of rubble in front of Harry began restructuring itself back into a wall.

"Four tangos in the building behind us," Chandar spoke as he crawled back through the doorway. "Tsang's traps caught a few trying to sneak into the building. Doesn't seem like it will stop them for long, though."

"Cover the doorway then, Mark," Harry growled as he shakily withdrew a magazine from his vest. "We need to hold out until air support arrives."

"How long?"

"Four minu- GET DOWN!" Harry scrambled away from the wall and tackled the teenager to the ground as the entire wall blew into smithereens.

"Laser guided rockets?" Tsang shouted in disbelief as she scuttled away from her source of cover. "How the hell does a militia have that sort of weaponry?"

"I don't know…," came Harry's reply as he turned his gaze back to the invisible wall that held the attention of the translucent red dot. "We need to get a smoke out, cover me!"

Harry found purchase against the building's walls as he stumbled to his feet. Keeping one hand against the building, Harry popped a canister off his backpack strap and leaned out beside the structure's damaged hull. Dust swirled against his grimed face as he chucked the smoke grenade onto the roof.

A scream pierced Harry's lips as several crackles and pops filled the air. Tripping over his own feet, Harry fell on his back as he clutched at the open wound on his stomach.

"Lieutenant!"

Tsang staggered towards Harry's position, firing streams of bullets at any man or woman holding a weapon. Howls burst from his chest as Harry was dragged away from the open exposure to the building. Each movement seemed to strain, stretch, and tear his bleeding wound.

"Damnit, damnit," Tsang cursed as she positioned Harry further inside the building. "Chandar. Fucking hell, MARK! Get over here!"

The royal marine hobbled into the room only to pause when he saw Harry whimpering against the wall.

"Check those dead bodies!" Tsang ordered as she pointed to their deceased teammates and the recovered bodies of the team before them. "Find a first-aid kit, bandages, morphine, anything!"

"Wait," Harry gasped as he shuffled further up the wall. "Wait. Chandar, cover us. Make sure no one sneaks up." Ignoring the look on his teammate's face, Harry pulled his wand from his sleeve and pointed the tip at the hole in his stomach. "Accio… Accio bullet."

A sharp gasp escaped from both Tsang and Harry's lips as the bullet flew into his hand. Harry leaned his head back in agony as the sudden exposure to air filled the void within. "Episkey."

It was a gamble. He only used the charm on minor injuries such as cuts and nosebleeds. For something this major? Harry could only pray. Closing his eyes, Harry kept whispering the healing charm until he felt the satisfying flush of heat arising in his abdomen.

"Episkey… Episkey…"

"Tsang," a call came from the adjourning room. "Is the LT stable?"

"Yes…," Tsang's bewildered voice spoke. "He's good."

"Good, because they're waving a flag out there. Don't recognize it as Al-Qaeda."

Shooting Harry a confused look, the woman backed away before exiting the room. Harry sighed as he gripped the L85 slung across his chest. It was out. He wasn't trying to hide it but now someone knew. He trusted Tsang to cover his back in a firefight. He trusted Tsang to make the calls he couldn't. But he didn't know if he could trust her with the revelation of magic.

While he knew he wasn't an expert at hiding magic, he did a decent enough job covering its existence - from both the civilian and military worlds. The discreet uses in shielding against gunfire and shrapnel already drew enough suspicion but his restraint had managed to keep it from blowing out of hand.

Pushing himself to his feet, Harry began walking outside the room and to the next one. Entering the connecting room, Harry found his teammates lying prone on the rubble casted floor as they fired bursts into the crowds below.

"I need a sit-rep," Harry hissed as he weakly slid onto the floor behind them.

"Crowds are still violent," Chandar dutifully reported. "Got a flag. Red. A series of black rings surrounding two crossed swords. Don't recognize it."

"Copy that. How long till air support arrives?"

"Too long. We got two techies to the East," Chandar answered as he popped a fresh magazine into his SMG. "People are still swarming around the building. If they are smart, they will all rush up those stairs but for some reason, they are holding back. Almost as if they don't know where the entrance is."

An unseen smirk flitted across Harry's lips but he refused to comment.

"Juliet One, do you read? Juliet One."

The group briefly turned their attention to the radio sitting, almost forgotten, in the corner of the room. Crawling over to the small device as the voice repeated itself once more, Harry grabbed ahold of it before shuffling against the wall. "This is Juliet One, over."

"Juliet One, this is Cherry One." The voice responded. "We've spotted your smoke and are heading to your position right now. ETA one mike."

"Copy that, over and out."

Over the midst of gunfire and shouts, Harry could hear the faint recognizable sound of blades cutting through the air. Another loud crack resonated from downstairs, drawing Harry's attention away from the arriving relief. Bucking his rifle against his chest, Harry leaned out the doorway and spotted two armed militia struggling to help a third from the iron jaws of one of Tsang's traps. Pointing his rifle downward, he released a torrent of metal rounds into the surprised throng.

"Air support is here, boys!" Tsang called out as she withdrew from her firing position. Shooting a strange look towards Harry, she began jogging down the stairwell. Exchanging glances, both Harry and Chandar decided to follow. Stepping into the street, Harry found himself face to face with a line of Little Birds landing on the street, depositing fresh U.S. and British troops.

Gunshots sounded all around the block as the militia was routed back. Clearing alleys, streets, and buildings, the mass of troops established a secure perimeter around the transports. An U.S. Apache provided air superiority overhead, protecting the ground forces from any rooftop assault. Shots from the suburbs bounced off the hull of the aircraft as it began firing its chain gun into the distance.

"It's okay Lieutenant, we'll take it from here," One of the U.S. marines spoke as he clapped Harry on the shoulder.

"It was just supposed to be a routine patrol for the men before me," Harry replied tiredly as he pointed to the structure behind him. "They were good men. My soldiers were good men. They all deserve a letter home to their families after what just happened."

The soldier met Harry's glare with a silent nod. "And they'll get it." Waving to several soldiers, the marine gestured for the troops to enter the building.

"Sir?"

Harry glanced at Tsang's raised eyebrow as she waited expectantly for him. Breaking away from the U.S. marine, Harry approached his waiting friend. The stern glare from her brown eyes and the downwards quirk of her lips had Harry exhaling in acceptance.

"Later, Tsang." Harry said as he turned to watch the soldiers loading the deceased British marines into the small helicopters. "Later."

A stiff nod came from the woman as she pivoted on her feet and marched to the helicopter Chandar was occupying. Harry bowed his head in respect as marines passed by him, carrying the deceased men in tow.

It was supposed to be a routine scout patrol.

Instead, they had an entire army of insurgents camping in close proximity to the airfield. Waiting for a moment to strike. How could intelligence not have noticed this?

Clambering onto the Little Bird, Harry waved for the pilot to take off. A nod and thumbs up had the entire aircraft tilting forward as it swirled around.

It was a brutal morning.

"So…," Harry rubbed the back of his head in discomfort as he met the expectant gaze of the woman in front of him. They were squared away in the corner of the armory with strong privacy spells erected to prevent listeners of any kind. Harry was resting on a table while Tsang was leaning against the wall. For her part, Tsang was looking for all appearances to be in full control of her emotions and of the situation as a whole. She met his gaze resolutely, arms firmly set across her chest as her foot impatiently tapped against the floor.

"I guess I should start from the beginning then?" He asked.

Tsang merely nodded, eliciting a sigh from Harry. Scratching the back of his head, Harry turned his head away from his partner to glare at the bare armory walls. The situation would have arisen sooner or later. The fact that it didn't come up the past year was a miracle itself. Who would theorize magic when nothing perceivable to the mortal eye protected them from potential danger? It would just be passed off as absurd luck.

He wasn't stupid enough to shield someone with a Protego if they ran headfirst into enemy machine-gun fire. Too many questions. Too many eyes that may come his way, too much attention. No, he was satisfied in using his magic discreetly. Shields against nearby explosions, surprise Reductos and Bombardas when no one was watching, confundus charms against the unaware, unsuspecting, relatively small things that no one would bother scrutinising.

Slip ups could occur, after all.

"I don't remember the exact moment I discovered this… strange ability," Harry lied as he kept his expression blank. "Small cuts… bruises… all seemed to heal in a matter of minutes when they should have taken longer."

His eyes flitted to Tsang's but her face remained hard. Not even a hint of shock or disbelief fluttered through her stone-cold facade. She was his partner but he couldn't tell her the truth. Not the full truth. Only hints, smidgens. If word spread, he would find himself becoming a tool once more.

"It terrified me… but, I also found myself curious," Tsang's eyes narrowed as Harry struggled to continue his somewhat false story. "Dark bruises that should have lasted for days disappeared overnight. Paper cuts vanished in minutes. I thought maybe I was blessed. That something or someone blessed me to be this way."

"But why bless me with these abilities only to place me in an unloving environment?" The question caused the woman's eye to twitch but no further reaction followed.

"Respectfully sir…," Tsang said as she pushed off the wall and leaned closer to Harry. "That's bullshit and you know it."

Harry stilled as a hand came to rest upon his shoulder. With every passing second, her grip seemed to grow tighter and tighter. Squeezing his shoulder until it was locked in an ironclad hold.

"There's more to it, sir," Tsang breathed as she pierced Harry's eyes with her own. "Flashes. Glimpses of what I thought to be a trick of the light. Hallucinations. How nearby explosions almost never seemed to harm us. Why we never seem to run out of mags in a firefight. You had something to do with that. I know it."

"Do you?" Harry asked as he glared at his second. "Do you honestly believe I had a hand in everything?"

Thoughts raced across his mind miles per second. It was almost too much. She was close. She was so close. A slight gust of wind could propel her into grasping everything she wanted to know.

Tsang hesitated, her eyes warring with shaken conflict beneath her cool mask. Closing her eyes, Tsang released a long exhale through her nose before she faced him with a newly resolved countenance.

"Yes."

"Well, you're wrong," Harry growled as he shot forward, his face inches away from Tsang's own. "Tina, I wish I could confirm your beliefs but it's not me. What you saw yesterday, that's the extent of what I can do."

"So that's it, huh?" Tsang scowled as she stepped away from him. "Two years. Two years we fought together yet you still refuse to tell me the truth. All because you don't trust me."

"It's not like that."

"Not like that, he says," Harry ignored her scoffing as he watched her press down on the pistol in her holster. "What is it then, Lieutenant? You think that after two years, I can't tell if you're lying or not? I can assure you that I can. You can fool others but you can't fool me. Your eyes always seem to shake when you lie. It's never a steady gaze."

"Tsang…," Harry warned as he watched her hand twitch. "Let the weapon go."

"Tell me the truth sir. You can do more, can't you?"

Harry wavered. He knew a decision was being offered to him. Logic ruled what was necessary to say. But, as he stared at the back of his friend, he knew that option wasn't possible. Tsang was dutiful. And she was loyal. But for the loyalty she gives, she expects it equally in return. He had to choose. He would either lose a friend who had his back from the beginning, or a secret he wasn't ready to reveal would be unveiled, something that the world may not be ready for. He knew what Hermione would choose. But then again, he wasn't Hermione.

"Yes."

Tsang remained silent but her hand moved away.

"You can't tell anyone… please," Harry relented as he slumped down against the lockers. "You don't understand, if people found out… if they knew."

"Government positions aren't exactly the best place to hide," Tsang spoke, pointing out a hole in Harry's logic.

"No." A sarcastic chuckle escaped Harry's throat as he burrowed his head into his arms. "It's definitely not. But sometimes, saving others is worth more than personal wants. I have a responsibility to do just that."

"A responsibility," Tsang repeated as she finally turned around. "Wouldn't it be better to inform the higher-ups about your… powers? To save more people?"

"I will not be a tool," Harry hissed as his head sharply rose from his arms. "Every choice I make is mine and mine alone. To everyone else, I am just a simple soldier. But if people knew, how many would try to use me? Truly use me? How long until it turns from saving others to serving personal desires? No, it's better to do this my way. As long as I am in the military, I have the ability to save those that need saving. When we are deployed, I choose who to kill, who to save. If I can help prevent any more deaths, then I will. And as long as I serve some form of government, I will be privy to what they know and do."

A silence rang out through the empty armory until Tsang released a sigh.

"Bet you wish it was Chandar," a small smile broke across Harry's lips as Tsang changed the topic. Grasping her offered hand firmly, Harry found himself yanked to his feet. "Whole conversation would've been avoided."

"Chandar's smart but he doesn't deal with uncertainties."

"Don't I know it," Tsang huffed.

"Who are they?"

Harry gestured to the men exiting the modified humvee outside the gym. Chandar looked up to spot the soldiers before snorting.

"Excalibur patch on their arms says it all," Chandar spoke as he splashed his face with cold water. "SAS. Best of the best. Should've been obvious."

Harry flushed as he pulled his gloves on. The kid spoke as if their emblem was recognizable to all that saw it. Perhaps it was, to military to civilian words alike. But to Harry? It was completely unfamiliar. The emblems he did recognize were the ones for the DMLE, the Auror office, Ministry of Magic and Hogwarts. But in the muggle world, the non-magic? He was lost. Grunnings, Dudley's gaming system, the logo on the stove in the Dursley's kitchen. Those were what Harry was familiar with.

Harry knew his isolation stunted his knowledge on the muggle world. He grew up with the Dursleys, he learned from them. But any self-taught exposure to the muggle world was subsumed by his experiences in the Magical world. And now? With his reality gone and him trapped in this new one, all his hard-earned knowledge was useless and he had found himself completely lost.

Educational training in basic might have gone over this, but Harry did his best to wipe his memories of basic,they were some of the most hellish months of his life. Auror training couldn't even compare. Pugil sticks, boxing, and CQC training did have a better way of teaching him to survive in close quarters compared to what he was given in Auror training.

"If they are close and you lose your wand, you jump them, boy! Tackle them to the ground and take their wand! A wizard without their wand is a dead wizard."

Aurors would have never survived in close quarters against the marines.

"What exactly do they do?" Harry questioned further as he observed his fellow marines backing away from them in either fear or respect.

"Hostage rescue, counter-terrorism, covert assault," Chandar listed as he eyed the approaching group. "Heard of the Iranian Embassy Siege in London? Twenty-six people taken as hostage by terrorists. SAS came in and managed to rescue all but one. "

"Impressive," Harry whistled as his attention was now fully tuned to the SAS soldiers. "Why not help us out in the frontlines?"

"Waste of resources," Chandar replied as he hopped back into the ring. "Those men can finish a battle before it even starts. Send a single SAS squad behind enemy lines and come morning? An entire platoon of soldiers or city of civilians will be saved."

"So… assassins?"

"Somewhat," Chandar shrugged. "This is general knowledge we learned in basic- what am I saying, you were probably daydreaming during those classes."

Harry turned away to disguise his flushed face of shame. The instructors drilled what was supposed to be interesting into hour long lectures on the superiority of the British military. It reminded him of Binn's lectures of the goblin rebellions.

"So what would you call them? Heroes?" Harry asked.

Chandar shrugged as he clapped his gloves together. "Why? Interested?"

"You could say that," Harry hummed. Placing his helmet back on his head, Harry swung over the ropes until he was standing opposite of his subordinate. "What are they doing here?"

Chandar paused. Casting a gaze to the left and right, the kid turned to Harry with a serious expression on his face.

"You didn't hear it from me," Chandar warned as he spoke in a hush whisper. "Rumor has it that they are here because of the unknown faction we met two weeks ago. The outpost near Farah was said to be attacked by them. Using sophisticated weaponry. Weaponry on par to the military's own."

"What?"

"Armor piercing rounds, tank missiles, magnetized grenade launchers," Chandar hissed. "Weaponry terrorists shouldn't have, some of the soldiers think that a weapons manufacturer like Hammer Industries is supplying them, but there is no proof."

"Hammer Industries?" Harry questioned.

"Company owned by some weapons genius who helps manufacture weapons for the U.S. government," the two royal marines chuckled softly.

"So, are members of the SAS hand-picked?" Harry asked, attempting to steer the conversation back on topic.

"No," Chandar threw a punch to test the waters as Harry easily leaned away from the swing. "You just need to file an application. After applicants are accepted, they are subjected to something as close to Hell as you can get. Details are hazy but I do know that many have died during training. Still interested?"

"Maybe…"

Harry ducked as Chandar followed up his barrage of punches with two swift jabs to his head. Swiping low, Harry decked Chandar in the stomach before a knock into the jaw sent the boy stumbling back. A curse escaped his lips as he spat a splotch of blood outside the boxing ring. Readjusting his headset, the boy tossed Harry a quick glare before darting back to engage Harry once more.

"You're crazy," Chandar gritted out through his clenched teeth as he absorbed a blow to the chest. "Or suicidal. Still deciding on which."

"Are you sure this is what you want to do, Lieutenant?"

The officer's face was blank. Not a trace of doubt, skepticism or confusion could be gleaned from the stone facade present.

Harry enjoyed his time in the Royal Marines. He helped save lives, prevented his brothers and sisters-in-arms from succumbing to defeat, celebrated every victory with a party and cheer, and shared in the grief of multiple tragic losses.

The Royal Marines were a brotherhood. An experience that differed from the somber mood of the Order of the Phoenix and D.A. from his reality. The Order was a ragtag team of individuals brought together to fight the Death Eaters - there was hardly any comradire to be found in that. The D.A., while it was fun, was inexperienced. What could students do against Wizarding veterans? They fought hard, gave it their all, but in the end, they were no match.

The marines were different.

He wasn't someone special. Someone that others looked to, to solve their problems just because of his name. Everything he had accomplished so far, he earned. He was just a soldier. A soldier equal to everyone else.

And to know of an option that could help save his fellow brothers and sisters from unnecessary death? He would take it in a heartbeat.

"Yes, sir." Harry answered as he faced his superior with a determined gaze. "I can do much in the marines. But out there? I can help save my fellow men and women from ever being ambushed again. For every life I save in the Royal Marines, I'd be saving ten in the SAS."

The man nodded, "You have heart Potter, I have no doubt of that. But are you sure? I wouldn't want to lose a man as good as you."

Harry replied once more in the affirmative much to the officer's regret. Signing several forms, the man placed them into a manila folder before handing it to Harry. With a wave of his hand, Harry found himself being dismissed.

On his way back, he wasn't surprised to find Tsang in the halls of the base. She stopped him when she noticed the pleased yet slightly sheepish grin upon Harry's face.

"What's up with you?" she asked.

"The office and Major approved of my transition, I'll be back in Britain tomorrow night. Two weeks of leave before I report to Sennybridge."

The smile that came onto Tsang's face was genuine. "Congratulations, Lieutenant. Shouldn't be surprised you wanted to jump in with the big boys."

"Thanks Tsang," Harry rolled his eyes as he crossed his arms. "It means so much to me knowing that you fully approve."

"There is one problem, though…," the woman looked around to make sure the corridor was clear before she lowered her voice. "What about your… um…"

"Abilities?" A smirk threatened to break out on his face as Tsang flushed scarlet. "On one hand, less witnesses. The other, more attention on me. I'd just have to be careful won't I?"

"Idiot," Tsang scoffed as she reached a hand out to Harry. "Good luck, Lieutenant."

"I'll make sure to send you letters, don't you worry," Harry smiled as he gripped and shook his second's hand.

They quietly said their goodbyes and Harry returned to his room, feeling slightly rueful. Tsang had been a great friend in their years of service together. He wished she would have joined him but he knew she felt comfortable where she currently belonged.

The flight back was one of the weirdest flights Harry had been on, since he began his military service. The soft cushioned seats were a stark contrast to the straps and metal benches he was used to. Walking into his apartment for the first time in years had been especially strange. It felt fantastical.

Sleeping in his bed instead of a cot or rocky ground was frightening. The mattress felt as if it would never stop sinking. His back did have its complaints to yell when he decided to try sleeping on the floor several times.

The days passed rather quickly for Harry. He had spent most of the mornings waking up early for a jog. Early morning jogs were a habit ingrained into him from the marines, nothing that would have been expected when he was in the Auror corps.

While the Auror corps were meant to be the best of the law enforcement for the magical world, essentially a special forces unit, their training was heavily focused on magical aspects. Fitness was a general requirement but it was never emphasized as heavily as it was in the muggle world.

Why jog two kilometers when you can apparate that same distance in a few seconds? Why focus on camouflage and stealth when a disillusionment spell and Muffliato concealed your still presence almost entirely?

Auror training was meant for one thing. Power and endurance. And for Muggle warfare training? It was how far your body and brain could physically and mentally be pushed.

As Harry sat down at his desk, he found himself being welcomed by the pages of untouched paperwork and notes left alone to wait. Immediately, he scowled.

The work was extremely important. Problems had occurred in the field when he used his magic and ended up frying an electronic device near him. He could still imagine the looks of annoyance on his team's faces when they found themselves stuck in a desert with fried radios. Luckily, a town with a somewhat willing man 'offered' them a cell to use.

Flipping through the pages of the journal, Harry came to a rest at a passage detailing about the inner workings of Enertrof's law. Experiments that his mother had attempted which resulted in failure. Rune schemes that he had yet to translate littered pages upon pages of the journal. What the English portions did share in common however, was Enertrof's law, magic, runes and Thor.

He had to look up Thor briefly. A Nordic God of thunder that could also command lightning. It was interesting but the only relevance he saw between Thor and the rest of the journal was that lightning was an electrical current. Not to mention that he was apparently killed by a giant sea serpent named Jormungandr. Didn't really see how that was helpful but it was interesting to read about.

According to my current experiments, it appears that Enertrof failed to account for the random activity produced through electrical currents. It was to his belief that electricity was a form of primitive Earthen magic adapted into use by medieval wizards. From this, Enertrof may have concluded that the medieval wizarding way of conversion led to a distinct difference between magic then and magic now. Demonstrations on how electrical currents can redirect itself and spells when they come together in direct contact must have played into this, leading to his 'law' on how the polarity of electricity affected today's magic. But, what electricity really is, is the transfer of energy through electrons. It can be directed but not controlled. What we are meant to look for is a medium that can sustain and infuse both energy and magical energy together to create a harmonic rhythm. At least, I do believe that is the first step in accomplishing fully cooperative electronic devices with magic.

Harry banged his head against the table several times. And here he was hoping that the solution would deal with something as 'simple' as runes. Maybe a runic scheme if necessary. But this? Harry wanted to scream in frustration. Perhaps he didn't spend as much training in basic as he should have if this was already making his brain numb. Discipline and fortitude. That's what he would need to get through this.

Dragging his hands down his face, Harry set to work on his physics textbook in tandem with his Ancient Runes book. It was going to be a long night.

He prayed that his mother couldn't hear him cussing her out.

A/N: That's a wrap! I know you're excited to meet the rest of the MCU, but I hope that what little we've given you here will be enough to sate your burgeoning appetites. I can promise that we'll be there soon enough. R&R and we'll see you in Ch. V!