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.

"Bugger." Frustration bloomed under Harry's skin like a fiery flower. His arm was outstretched, half of his now signature staff grasped tight in his fist. A fizzling shield tinged with brilliant gold flickered in and out of existence. There one second, gone the next. All of his previous tinkerings on the staff were falling to pieces, right when he needed them the most. Well, wasn't this absolutely dandy? And right before what he knew was going to turn out to be a big fight, too. It was like fate was taunting him. Luckily, he knew how to resist those taunts. It was going to take more than some failing shield to stop him. It wasn't like he didn't have his trusty phoenix feather wand on him.

"Staff again?" Steve was standing on the other side of the room, hastily packing his bag with all the essentials he needed. Somehow, it was impossibly neat, screaming military precision. Then again, Harry thought, you couldn't really expect anything less than neatness from Captain America. "You've only been working on it for a few weeks. You can't expect it to be up and running this quickly."

"It's annoying, is all." He whacked the black staff. The muffled 'bong' sound of metal being struck echoed throughout the room. "I'm not Hermione."

"You need to have patience. From what you've told me, mixing magic and technology is incredibly hard. It's going to take a while. And no, you may not be Hermione, but you'll work things out." Steve closed the rucksack, hoisting it over his shoulder with ease. "We should really get going. You ready?"

Harry cast a quick eye over his own bag. The only things that weren't in there were his firebolt (conveniently shrunk, which was very handy) and the invisibility cloak. He quickly shoved them in, careful, loving, shoving, of course, and slung the bag over his shoulder.

"Ready as I'll ever be." He gave Steve a thumbs up, grinning. This was going to be his first mission with Steve. Something strange, something deep down in his gut, was awakening, sending shockwaves of excitement through him, tremors of the thought of what was to come rocking up and down his limbs. Yet, despite all this nervousness, there was a warmth, like the heat of the sun on a mild summer's day, situated firmly in his chest. Above all of this was a layer of professionalism that came with every mission. Despite the difference this particular venture presented, Harry was still going to treat it the same as every mission he did for SHIELD. He wouldn't let the changes, all amazing changes, distract him from what he needed to do.

This one was the big one. From the tone of voice that Fury had, the content of the conversation and the eerie heaviness of the air, Harry knew that this mission was important. More than important. This Loki person was a big threat, likely bigger than any Harry had ever faced before. That called for more professionalism than ever.

"Good. Let's go."

Together, they walked out of the room and into the corridors of SHIELD. As per usual, many strange glances were sent their way. For a while now, Harry hadn't been wearing his glamour, preferring to use his true appearance. There was no need to hide now. Sure, there had been questions, so many questions, endless questions, but soon people came to realise that there were now two people who looked like Steve Rogers running around. The main difference between them was that Harry was a smidge shorter, with a leaner body. Soon, that was what was used to tell them apart from a distance.

As they made their way to the jet that would take them to the Helicarrier (Harry could wait to see Steve's reaction to it) his thought's strayed to Natasha. She was off on some mission somewhere, kept secret as per usual. Despite this, Harry had a hunch she would be meeting up with them on the Helicarrier. Every time she went off, something inside him began to worry about her. This something was the more illogical side of him. Soon, the logical side of him, the side that recognised she was more than capable at the things she did, far more capable than he was, swooped in, gobbling up the doubt. Still, there was a sense of relief that washed over him whenever she returned from missions unharmed. Well, except for that one time in Budapest, but that was something they didn't really talk about.

"Thinking about Natasha?" Steve raised an eyebrow as he spied Harry's pensive expression.

"How did you know?" Honestly, the man was getting better and better at deducing when he was thinking about her. Maybe it was a face he made?

"You always make the same expression. It really isn't that difficult to find out." And, there was his confirmation. "Let's focus on the mission. Romance can wait until afterwards. Right now, we have a megalomaniacal enemy to take down."

"Yeah, that's a good idea."

So, Harry covered himself in the veil of cool, calm, collectiveness that he used whenever he went on missions. The sense of humour disappeared, replaced with logic and nerves of steel. This was a side of him Steve hadn't seen. It would be interesting to see how he reacted. Now wasn't the time to be worried about those things, though. Now was the time to focus.

Focus.

Sitting in the back of the jet, strapped to the uncomfortable seat with a belt that bit into his torso, Harry began taking one final look over his staff. What he'd been working on was integrating magic and technology, to hopefully create an intimidating weapon that would make people think twice about facing him, more than they did already. One thing he was quite proud of, something that he'd built up over his years at SHIELD, was his reputation for getting the job done. The staff would only improve that. At least, that was what hoped.

He ran a finger along the smooth, black surface, digging his nail into the groove where small slivers of magical ingredients were. Luckily, they were still in place, so that wasn't the problem. Unfortunately, they were running out of time. He would be unable to make any major adjustments to it. A few spells would have to do, along with faith that it would work. He wouldn't even be using it that much. At this point, it was a backup in case something happened to his wand, which just so happened to his primary weapon. Sure, there were pistols and knives hidden all over him (a trick which he'd handily picked up from Natasha, bless her and her wacky weapon hoarding ways) but in the end, nothing was able to beat good old magic.

Especially magic that had been mixed with tightly honed fighting skills and weapons.

Speaking of wands, Harry took his out of the trusty leather holster strapped to his arm and pointed it at the staff, muttering, "Confirma Clypeus." A softly glowing green jet of light slowly snaked its way out of his wand, wrapping around the staff. It tightened, before sinking in and disappearing altogether. Harry pulled his wand away and shook the staff. A glowing shield phased into existence, not once flickering. A triumphant smiled spread over his face. Of course, after all this time, all it needed was a nudge in the right direction. A spell to strengthen the shield. Who would have known?

Hermione.

Hermione would have known.

"Hey, Steve, could you chuck something at this?" Steve glanced up, before searching around for something to throw. "Wait a sec." He conjured a rock into existence, throwing it to Steve. "Be careful not to hit the windows."

"You think so little of my aim?"

"No, I just don't want the jet to crash into the ocean. Common sense, really."

"Right..."

Steve narrowed his eyes, taking aim. He then threw the rock. It pinged off the shield, clattering to the ground. Harry gave a silent cheer. It worked. For now. Improvements would definitely need to be made later, but it was good for now.

If only he knew how wrong those words were.

After meeting with Natasha and Bruce on the Helicarrier, Loki's presence was soon detected in Stuttgart, Germany. They all piled into a jet. Steve and Harry fought Loki in a crowd of panicking people, Steve with his shield and Harry with his staff, wand knocked out of his hand.

One minute he was fighting. The next, a golden sceptre shattered his shield and gently tapped his chest. Ice raced through his veins, black clouded his vision, and a menacing voice began to whisper in the back of his mind, tendrils reaching out and ensnaring his every action. There was nothing he could do about it except feel the abject terror racing through his veins.

"Bide your time. Wait for my command. You will know when it is time to act, for I shall give the command."

Loki waved his hand and Harry felt the familiar weight of a glamour settle over his eyes, dulling the glow he knew was there back to his normal blue. But that didn't matter.

He was biding his time.

Waiting for his next command.

And screaming inside as his body was turned into a limp marionette, waiting to be controlled in a twisted, maniacal dance.

Hey, how are you? Sorry for the break. Anyway, I need to get this out. I'm not going to be posting for a while, as I am in a really bad spot mentally. I just wanted to let you know. It's the least I could do. Sorry for the short length. I wanted to give you something, at least. Something to chew on. The next chapter will focus on the fight scene more, and its repercussions.

Until next time, my lovely, lovely readers,
Mariadoria