Before I start this chapter, go and check out the fantastic story, 'A Happy Accident: 70 Years,' by the wonderful Njchrispatrick. It is where the inspiration for this story came from. If you notice any similarities between the stories, I do have permission to use them.

It was a bright Wednesday morning when Harry received a letter via owl from Hermione and Ron. His mood was dark, a stark contrast to the light outside. The article from a few days ago weighed heavy on his mind, as did the hundreds of owls banging up against the mail wards that surrounded his home. His neighbours were beginning to get quite suspicious of him and the strange occurrences that tended to surround him.

There was also the decision he'd made the previous day, the one that was going to be almost impossible to tell them. He wasn't sure how he was going to get it out, but he would. He had to, soon.

"What could you be, hmm?" Harry muttered to himself as he tried, and failed, to open with without damaging the envelope. Sighing, he unfolded the letter inside and read:

Harry.

We have some great news we would like to share with you. Please come over to our house as soon as you can manage. We can't wait to tell you the good news.

Hermione and Ron.

The letter was short, but oozed happiness. It spread to Harry a little bit, putting a small smile on his lips.

Well, there was nothing else to do. He would go over to Ron and Hermione's right now, popping right into their living room. Hopefully Hermione wouldn't drop her crockery like the last time he did that. At least this time they were expecting him.

He grabbed his new wand off the dining room table, still getting used to the new, less volatile feeling of his magic when he used it, and turned on his heel. The feeling of apparition, like he was being sucked through a tube several times too small. Thankfully, it didn't last for long and soon Harry was sprawled on the floor of Hermione and Ron's living room.

There was silence, and then Ron's bellowing laugh broke it. Hermione was snickering somewhat, probably at the fairly amusing sight of a six foot two man flashing into their living room, midair, and falling down onto the ground. Harry supposed he would be laughing too, if it wasn't him who was totally inept with magical methods of transportation. Honestly, you would think he was a toddler with how bad he was at it. At first, it was explainable, but now it was, quite frankly, embarrassing.

"So, what am I here for?" He smoothed out his magically expanded pants. Soon, he would have to bite the bullet and go buy some clothes that actually fit him. The amount of times the charms wore off and he was left looking like a competitor in a swimming competition…

"Well, we have some news." Hermione was literally glowing, her smile stretching from ear to ear. It was a type of glow Harry had only seen once before, but he couldn't place where he'd seen it.

"Some great news!" Ron leapt into the conversation. He, too, was glowing. "Come on, sit down." Harry sat down in the spare armchair, which just happened to be quite small, causing him to be bunched up, bar for his limbs which stuck out in awkward directions.

"What is it?" Harry shifted, trying to find a comfortable position. He didn't, so he settled for sitting on the floor, leaning up against the chair. "Come on, spit it out. You're clearly dying to tell me."

Even though Harry didn't think it was possible, Hermione smiled even wider. "I'm pregnant! We're having a baby!"

Harry's eyes widened in surprise. Whatever he had been expecting, it wasn't this. Whatever he had been expecting, this was far, far better. "Really? That's fantastic!" He jumped up and walked towards them. "Oh my God, I'm so happy for you?" He drew them both into a huge hug. Hermione squeaked in surprise.

"There's also another thing," Ron said, pulling himself out from Harry's arms. He patted the seat next to him. Harry sat down, beaming like Ron and Hermione, maybe even wider. Words couldn't describe how happy he was for them. In their three year relationship, they had always told him they wanted children. And here they were now, the soon to be parents of a little child. He couldn't believe that their dream was coming true.

"Oh?"

"We would like you to be the godfather."

Harry was so shocked it took him a moment to even comprehend what they had asked him. He blinked blanky, mouth opening and shutting in an impressive impression of a fish. "Come again?"

Hermione shook her head in fond exasperation, eyes glittering like the sunlight through brown glass. "I said that we would like you to be the godfather." So his ears hadn't been deceiving him. They really wanted to bestow that honour on him. He already knew what his answer was. Now he would be the godfather to two adorable little children.

"Of course. How could I ever say no to you?" And, when asked something like this, he just couldn't. Not that he would ever want to. To be honest, he had his own plans, if he ever had children, to ask Hermione and Ron to be the godparents.

"Woohoo!" Hermione cheered. Harry had never heard her say that before. "Oh, there's another thing. Ron, fire away."

"We were going to send you letter, but since you're here, we figured we would tell you now. In a month, we're getting married, and I want you to be my best man."

Harry's day couldn't get any better. "YES! Oh my gosh, this is going to be amazing." Plans for the bachelor party were already running through his head. He was going to make it the most amazing party that the world had ever seen. They wouldn't know what hit them. He opened his mouth to tell them this, but instead, something very different came out.

"There's something I want to tell you too."

"Oh?"

Harry blinked owlishly. That was not what he had been expecting to pop out his mouth.

"No, sorry. That's not what I meant to say."

"Wait," said Hermione. "We've shared some news, so it's only fair you share yours." She smiled softly at him.

"No. This is your time."

For the rest of the day, Harry stayed with Ron and Hermione, learned that they wanted him to be there in his true appearance and theorised on baby names for their child, whatever gender it may be. He was glad he didn't put a damper on their mood with his news. It was their day, their time, he had no right to infringe on it.

Later.

He would do it later.

It was two weeks before the wedding when Harry finally decided to bite the bullet and tell his two best friends about his decision. He didn't really know how he was going to do it. The conversation was probably going to turn out quite negatively; if there was one thing Harry Potter was known for, it was digging himself into holes. When he found himself with a problem, what he usually found himself doing was creating an even bigger problem that completely neutralised the first.

Nervousness running rampant through him, Harry knocked on their door. Apparating when he was this nervous was never a good idea. It took a while for the door to be answered. Harry heard loud, clomping footsteps running towards it, with Hermione's muffled voice calling after them. The door was flung open, an exhausted looking Ron on the other side. His hair was doing an excellent impression of Harry's when he had the glamour on, which he currently didn't. The bags under his eyes were so dark that from a distance they could be mistaken for particularly bad bruises. Overall, Ron looked like the dictionary definition of a stressed groom. Or, awful. He looked absolutely awful.

For a moment, Harry felt guilty about what he was about to tell them. Should he really be adding to the obvious stress and tension that they were feeling. Perhaps it would be better to leave it for a later date, when they weren't so embroiled in their planning.

No, he chastised himself. If he didn't tell them now, he never would. They knew he was telling them something large. He had their permission to tell them, they didn't mind. He'd made sure of that. If he backed out now, the decision would stay bottled up inside him until it exploded out like a champagne cork.

He was telling them and he was telling them today.

"You look awful, mate." Ron glowered at him, then ushered him inside. Harry's eyes widened at the mess that covered the entire apartment. Towering piles of parchments were everywhere, clothes were laying over every conceivable surface and boxes upon boxes crowded all the available floor space.

"Yeah, no kidding. This planning is driving me loopy. We'll get there." He placed a cushion on a large box and sat Harry down. "Be quick, please. Hermione's gone into a frenzy."

"It isn't a frenzy!" The banshee like screech came from the kitchen. Harry didn't need to see Hermione to know her face was a bright tomato red. "I'm just a bit flustered."

Ron pulled at the collar of his shirt, then smiled in the direction of the kitchen. "Just tell me here, I'll pass it on."

"Okay, here goes." Harry swallowed his fear and spat it out. "After your baby is born I'm moving to America."

It took a little while for Ron and Hermione to get over the news, but when they did, they were both very understanding. They understood the pressure he was under, the scrutiny that followed his every move. Soon, the morning of their wedding came and Harry found himself standing next to Ron, to the side of the altar, Neville and George standing beside him.

When Hermione walked up the aisle, bedecked in a white gown, hair falling in carefully curled ringlets, the slight bump of her baby showing, Harry couldn't be prouder. There he stood, looking as he truly did, feeling only happiness for his best friends.

Time flew, until the celebrant said, "You may now kiss the bride," and Ron and Hermione did so. The dance was full of happiness, as was the reception.

And in that moment, surrounded by everyone Harry considered his family, Harry felt happy.

"We want you to choose the middle name, Harry," whispered Hermione, holding her little girl like she was more precious than the world's most glittering jewel. The tiny, tiny person had a tuft of orange hair on her head, with the lightest blue eyes Harry had ever seen. He couldn't believe he was the godfather of such a precious creature. Hermione and Ron had already given her the first name of Winona, a name that made Harry into a total sap. He could already tell that this little girl was going to spoiled beyond belief. And now they were asking him to pick a name?

"I...Evangeline. I really like Evangeline."

"Winona Evangeline Weasley." Hermione's eyes teared up as she gazed upon her slumbering daughter. "It's beautiful. Oh, wow. Look at that, little Winona Evangeline. You've got a name. A beautiful name and a beautiful family." She cradled the tiny bundle and Harry felt his heart melt. This little girl was going to have him wrapped around her little finger.

"Would you like to hold her?" said Ron softly. "You are the godfather, afterall."

Harry took little Winona Evangeline Weasley in his arms and smiled a wet, teary smile.

Maybe his trip could wait a few months. This little girl was far too important to just leave behind.

When Harry could no longer go out in public without being hounded, asking about Steve Rogers and his story, he knew it was time to leave.

When he became so frustrated that he started shooting off stunners just to get a bit of peace and quiet, he knew it was time to leave.

When total strangers started turning up at his apartment, after somehow tracking down his address, shouting abuse, trying to bang down the door, asking question after question, he knew it was time to leave.

And when Hermione, Ron and Winona bade him a tearful farewell, all but telling him to get out of there, to send them regular letters and visit home often, he knew it was time to leave.

So, he packed his bags and portkeyed to a safe place in New York, put his glamour up and started his new life, finding an apartment, finding a job and enjoying the peace and quiet.

At least until Phil Coulson turned up at his door, wearing his pristine suit and dark sunglasses.

Gary Armand studied the pictures in front of him. There were four, three of children and one of Harry Potter arriving in America, courtesy of his wife. The first was of was Winona Evangeline Weasley, the angelic daughter of Ron and Hermione. The second was Gabriel Armand, his Harry Potter stealing nephew. The third was his own daughter, Emma Victoria Armand, ten years old, with aspirations to become a doctor.

The thing was, Harry Potter seemed to have a soft spot for children. That much was evident at the party months back, when he dressed up in the Captain America costume because the gaggle of giggling gerties, also known as children, asked him too. He could use this to his advantage.

Soon, Harry Potter wouldn't know what hit him and would be begging to spend time with him.

Perfect.

So, this is a bit shorter. I did initially make it longer, but it didn't flow right, so this is the length I settled on. We're getting closer to the time, skip, too. It's two or three chapters away. Woop woop. Also, we've breached 10o reviews, 700 follows, 400 favourites and 70,000 views. Words cannot express how happy I am. Thank you so, so much.

I'm starting a new thing called 'Question of the Chapter.' The question for this chapter is: If you could go to any time period, when would you go and why?

Sincerely,
Mariadoria