Natasha first noticed something was off when Harry stepped onto the jet after his fight with Loki. He was walking perfectly normally, no injury whatsoever, yet sweat beaded on his forehead, his hair slick with it. In his short exchange with Steve, he spoke the same, with that infuriating chuckle of his cropping up now and then. To any other person, nothing would have seemed off in the slightest. To Natasha, it was a different story. To her, even the smallest discrepancy was a crack she could wedge her knife in, which she would then wiggle back and forth until the truth came to light.

And when Natasha had a hunch, she stopped at nothing to prove it right.

Pointedly ignoring Loki, the greasy-haired bastard, she walked over to where Steve and Harry were talking, intending on getting a better look at the younger of the two. It still confused her, seeing as Harry was technically older than Steve when they were standing side by side, but calling Harry the youngest made sense. It all came down to their birth years.

"I need to get this damn thing working," Harry cursed, hitting his staff against the edge of the bench that ran down the side of the quinjet. "I shouldn't have taken it to the fight in the first place. It was a stupid move." He connected the two halves, twisting until he heard a click. There was a quiet fizzling noise, along with some sad looking blue sparks dancing around the end of the staff. Harry slumped over. "I'll work on it later."

Natasha frowned. There was the crack. Harry was usually a fairly positive person. To see him slumping over, back bent and eyes cast low, especially after a fight where they won, was wrong.

Now to work at the chink.

"Come on, chin up, Harry," Steve said. "We've got Loki and the sceptre now. There will be plenty of time to work on it later. Isn't it a prototype?"

"Yeah, it is." Harry was about to continue talking, in the strange melancholy way he'd adopted, when thunder boomed outside of the jet. Everyone inside jumped, except for Loki, who sat still, ramrod straight, lips pursed.

Natasha glanced over at Harry, who was no longer slumped over. And she knew it wasn't her imagination when she saw his eyes, for the shortest time, flash an ethereal blue, before returning to their normal colour.

He was with Loki.

LINE BREAK

On the inside of his head, Harry was fighting. Fighting against the iron control that penetrated his mind. If he could just get through the next layer, he would be that much closer to freeing his mind. Freeing himself from Loki's grasp.

The magic of the sceptre was strong. Impossibly strong. So strong that Harry didn't have a chance of breaking through it from the inside. Every time he launched an assault on the impenetrable wall encircling his mind, he was met with nothing but an evil chuckle, silent but somehow deafening. For hours now, he had been trying and failing, over and over, until even his resolve was beginning to fade, splinter, crack into pieces and smash into smithereens.

Inside his mind, Harry stepped back. He needed to stop throwing himself at the wall and think of a better solution. Something more clever than using his body as a battering ram. A rather useless battering ram at that, too. The mental bruises he was covered in were going to stick with him for a very long time, he was sure of it. Already, he could feel pain pricking inside his head. Huh. That was rather interesting to find out. So, it now seemed that if he tried to bash his way past Loki's enchantments he would get a killer headache.

Time to find another way, Harry thought. Another way that didn't end with him crashing into an invisible barrier, heart racing in anger, hands curling into fists. He slumped down onto the ground, crossing his legs. His fingers tapped a restless rhythm on his knee, keeping time with the cogs ticking over in his head. Calm. He needed to stay calm and calculated. The last thing he wanted to happen was for his will to break. That was the worst possible thing that could happen. As long as he was fighting, there was a way out of this hell. A way for him to get his own mind back, gain back control over his own body.

Memories of his classmates in fourth year belting the national anthem and cartwheeling around the classroom blossomed in his mind and Harry couldn't help the chuckle that escaped him. It was soon stemmed by the realisation that if he didn't think of a way out of that soon, Loki would force him to do far worse things than singing the alphabet off-key. Images of blood, gore, shining sceptres stabbed straight through someone's torso, took a hold. He shook them away, determined not to focus on the possibilities of what could happen. They weren't going to happen. He would get out of there before that happened.

The people around him were smart, incredibly so. He was no stranger to that. If there was one person who could pick up on little details, it was Natasha. Her manipulation skills were second to none. That was certainly something he found out first hand. He still felt a pang of annoyance when he thought about that sandwich. Steve was hardened from the battlefield, an amazing tactician and able to sniff out a threat at the snap of his fingers. And even though he didn't know Tony Stark well, Harry knew for a fact that the man was smart. Incredibly so, to the point where it became slightly ridiculous. He had to admire the name the man had made for himself. That reputation was a rare thing to come by and to control it the way he did...Harry had to give it to Tony Stark.

His thoughts began wandering through different things he could do. After mulling over them for a few minutes, he remembered the glamour that was on his eyes. Not that it could really be called a glamour, seeing as Loki cast it. The type of magic was different from his own. It was heavy, intrusive, a weight that settled over him and wouldn't leave for a long time. It felt cold, blue, strained, almost as if something was constricting it.

Maybe...

Yes!

Instead of trying to force his way past the barrier, Harry would wheedle away at the glamour hiding his glowing blue eyes. It would only last for a second, but with so many sharp-witted people around him, it would be enough for them to know. That single flash would be all of the warning they needed, the only notification. They couldn't trust him, and he was sure as Hell going to let them know that.

And so, he began chipping away at the enchantment, slowly breaking it down until the dead-weight that was Loki's magic began to feel like a flimsy piece of film. He punched at it endlessly, until his knuckles were splotchy and red.

With one last mighty punch, the illusion shattered. Harry felt the plane shake in the sky, thunder rumbling. Loki glanced up, distracted for the smallest of moments. It was all Harry needed.

His eyes flashed blue, only for a second.

But it was enough for Natasha to look up and see the truth of the situation.

Loki was stoic, calm, almost distant, on the outside. To their every scathing remark, he replied with a witty comment, never letting them see what was on the inside. His true plan, his true purpose, was to be kept a secret. Although, from how Potter was fighting, it seemed that his resolve wasn't breaking. At least Selvig was smart enough to recognise a superior force. Potter, on the other hand, just kept going. He was like a Clydesdale horse, always plodding on, never phased by the distance needing to be travelled.

With the way Potter was rebelling, a new idea began to form in his head. He could use this to his advantage. Use Potter's own stubbornness and pride to his advantage. Clearly, he'd found another path and was breaking around the illusion on his eyes. The Avengers would know within the minute that Harry wasn't himself. However...this could be quite the game. They would know that Harry was under his control, but not that he knew they knew. Oh, the fun he could have with that. Finally, Loki would be in a position of power, a puppet master pulling the strings of the marionette's without them even knowing he was doing it.

His thoughts were cut short by storming clouds gathering outside. Lightning flashed and the quinjet jolted in the sky. Of course. He couldn't avoid Thor, could he? This was just his luck.

As he was yanked out of the ship, to the alarmed cries of the Avengers, he sent a command towards Potter. Wait. I will call you. They know. Well done.

Falling through the sky, wind whipping his hair, all he could do was smile.

For things were going exactly per his new plan.

Hey, how are you? It's been a while, hasn't it? I know this chapter is really short, but I've been sorting myself out, and this was as long as I could write the chapter at the moment. The lengths will be increasing back up to 3000 within the next few updates, though it will take a few chapters to get there. I need to get back into the flow of writing things first before I go back onto the larger chapters.

Things haven't been going too well, but here I am, sort of well. It feels so good to be back writing this story. I haven't written for a month, so this is heaven. Quite honestly, I feel high, not that I know what that feels like. Anyway, I'm back. Updates should be back to weekly shortly. I am writing several other stories, but this one takes top priority. Thank you so much for waiting patiently.

Thank you so much for all of your reviews and favourites and follows. We passed 400 reviews and are in the 1000s club for favs/follows. This is amazing. Once again, thank you so, so much. It means the world to me the support that this story has received and it keeps me going, keeps me motivated to write.

And, as always, I am sorry for the lengthy author's note. It won't happen often, I just needed to explain myself and my current situation.

I look forward to seeing you again soon, my lovelies.

Sincerely,
Mariadoria