This story is based off A Happy Accident: 70 Years by the amazing Njchrispatrick. It's cool, you should go check it out. Please do. :)
The hallway that Harry, Steve, Natasha and Tony were standing in was bathed with sunlight. It made a picturesque scene, but the sweltering heat was something different. Or, at least it would be if Tony didn't have a magical (and wasn't that ironic, thought Harry) air conditioning system installed in every single room of the newly named Avengers Tower.
"Alright, step right up, step right up," bellowed Tony, gesturing grandly down the hallway. Natasha and Steve kept blank faces at his antics, while Harry didn't bother to suppress his slight smirk. The more time he spent with Tony, the more he grew on him. "This is where three of you will be staying. Natasha, Steve and Harry, if you will follow me." He donned an invisible top hat, swivelled around and began walking down the hallway like he owned a marching band.
Okay, that one was new.
"Do you have to be so dramatic? We're just going to the rooms," groaned Steve, putting his head in his hand. He was still getting used to Tony's dramatic side, which hadn't been shown before the Battle of New York. Six weeks had passed since then. He couldn't blame Tony, though. There was an air of optimism and satisfaction, tinged with goofiness. It was...nice.
Tony looked back over his shoulder. "Always, Mr America, always." He kept walking. "And these are far more than rooms. I've poured my heart and soul into creating entire suites bigger than a whole house for each of you to stay in. They're customised to each of your tastes. Tell me that they are just rooms now."
Holy shit. The size of a house? Talk about being spoiled. Although, Harry supposed, when you moved in with a billionaire who owned his skyscraper, luxury was the name of the game.
"An entire house," murmured Natasha, echoing Harry's thoughts. "Impressive. I thought that they would be bigger though." Steve choked down a snicker.
"I am offended!" Tony gasped. "Can someone get this cretin away from me?" He looked around for an invisible someone. JARVIS, who usually would have made a snarky comment, chose this moment to stay silent.
"Are you though?" Harry spoke up for the first time, laughing.
"And how would you know that?" countered Tony, crossing his arms.
"You're you." A simple statement, yet a truer one was never spoken.
Tony paused for a second. "Fair enough. I suppose if you do know me you will come to expect opulence with everything I do. You're not wrong, in fact―"
"Let's skip all of this and just see our rooms, okay? Okay!" Natasha said, recognising the beginning of a 'battle of wits' when she saw one and knowing exactly how to stop it in its' tracks. "We can do this later."
"Alright, alright, little miss impatient, here we go." Tony scowled at her and waved at the doors of the rooms around him. "First on the right is Harry, second on the right is Steve. First on the left." His eyes gleamed with excitement. "Right across from Harry, is Natasha." He waggled his eyebrows.
"Umm...what do you mean by that?" Harry tried to play dumb. Tony saw right through the facade. It wasn't a surprise. There weren't any secrets you could hide around here.
"I'm not blind, Harry, I can see your feelin―agh!" Harry flicked the Elder Wand, which appeared in his hand at a thought (it was quite handy, now that he thought about it, and infinitely more pleasant now that the wand didn't feel cold and lifeless) and a bolt of yellow light sped towards Tony. He yelped in surprise as he shrunk, the yelp very quickly turning into an infuriated quack. Where Tony previously stood was a severely ungainly duck.
"Will he be alright?" chuckled Steve, bending down to be on the level of the duck. "He's quite cute isn't he?" Tony's eyes widened as he surged forward. He tried to nip at Steve's fingers, however, he ended up tripping over his own webbed feet.
"He'll be fine, just a bit flustered when we turn him back. His brain is still fully human in there." The duck let out an indignant quack. "I think he'll have a few words for me. Oh, look! How cute. He's trying to attack my ankle." Harry was so busy laughing at Tony that he didn't notice Natasha giving him an appraising look out of the corner of her eye and the slight, knowing smile that spread over her lips.
"Harry, come on, check out your room. We can deal with Dony later," said Natasha, leaping out of her realisation.
What?
"Dony?" asked Harry and Steve at the same time, in the same tone, with the same inflexions. The only different thing was the accents.
Natasha blinked. "Okay, first of all, that was so similar it was almost freaky. Second, Dony. Duck-Tony? Combining the words? No one?" She waited for them to say something. Finally, after what seemed like an eternity of the most awkward silence imaginable, Harry spoke up nervously.
"Oh, I get it."
She nodded. "Good."
"Doesn't mean I find it funny. Woah!" Harry dodged out of the way as Natasha lashed out at him. He frantically fiddled with the door handle, eventually opening it with a silent Alohomora and slipping into the room. He slammed it shut behind him.
That was close.
On the other side of the door, he could hear three people laughing raucously. Well, two people and a previously human duck. He didn't care. He was safe here, with an entire wall separating him from the extremely scary fist that belonged to an even scarier woman. Harry sank to the floor, grinning giddily. How long had it been since he'd felt like this? Light, floaty, content.
These thoughts were torn away by a strange thump on the other side of the wall. This reminded him to take a look at the room.
Holy shit!
It was...ginormous. Humongous. Magnificent. Far bigger than Tony had said. Windows stretched from the ceiling to the floor, a television that was far bigger than it had any right being sat on the wall. A large couch, cushy and overstuffed was in front of it, surrounded by other chairs. Harry stood and walked through the state of the art kitchen, peeking into the bedroom. It was large, like the rest of the apartment, but not overly so. On the wall was an empty pinboard just waiting to be filled with photos and banners.
Okay, so this was nice.
Harry went back to the door and tentatively opened it. He shot a quick spell that would reverse the transfiguration on Tony. In a whirl of colour, Tony was back, sitting on the floor with extremely dishevelled hair and crumpled clothes. There were still a few feathers hiding amongst his hair.
"That...was awesome! Why did you turn me back? I was just learning to fly." Ah. So that would explain the dull thumping Harry kept hearing.
"I liked the room enough that I decided to cut your tenure as a duck short. Thank you."
"Called it!"
"So what are we going to watch?" The questioning one was Steve.
"I don't know." The puzzled one was Harry.
"Ah." The curt one was Natasha.
And they were facing a huge problem.
They were all in Harry's room. All the provisions needed for a movie night were ready to go on the coffee table and cushy couch. There were blankets, pillows (feathered ones, courtesy of Tony, if they wanted to have a pillow fight) and endless amounts of unhealthy food. This was such a rare occasion that they decided to go all out. The thing was, they'd been so busy organising the extras that the most important thing slipped their minds.
They didn't know what movie to watch.
Thus ensued the frantic browsing. Natasha and Harry leapt onto their phones, while Steve just tried to turn his on. Somehow, he managed to make it spark and short out. This left the 'interneting' as Steve called it to the other two, while he wracked his mind for a movie or two that the others would enjoy.
"Five minutes then we have to have something!" called Harry. There wasn't a time constraint. There needed to be. If there wasn't, hours would be spent fruitlessly browsing for a movie and before they knew it, the night would fade into the day.
"Alright, alright, calm down, Potter."
The fight continued, with Harry finding something at the last minute, until the magical timer that Harry had set went off with a noise more piercing than the Caterwauling Charm. He shut it off.
"So, what did you get?"
Natasha smirked. "The superior option."
"Are you sure about that?"
"Very."
Steve just put his head in his hands and sighed.
"Alright, tell me what you've got,"
"The first two Terminator movies." She crossed her arms. "What have you got?"
"Star Wars."
"Hmm." She stopped to think for a second. "Those are tempting. But I still want to watch mine."
"Can you two just decide, for the love of all things bright and beautiful!" cried Steve, fed up with what would certainly become a massive debate. "Do paper scissors rock or something."
Natasha won.
And so for the next five and a half hours, they watched Sarah Connor being an absolute badass, the T-800 go from a terrifying enemy to the best ally and the sense of family that the movies managed to convey, despite being heavily action-oriented. Natasha somehow managed to quote everything in the movie, even the tiny lines. Harry had to admit, the movies were awesome. Perhaps not as awesome as Star Wars, but they were definitely up there and he would be going back to them in the future.
As the credits began to roll, with the three of them surrounded by junk food wrappers, Natasha suddenly spoke up.
"I used to think love was for children." She swallowed. "I was taught that I needed to be calm and collected, logic and deadliness above all, that connections to people were a detriment to the mission. The thing is, with the Avengers I have found a family. I know that may sound cheesy, but you guys mean that much to me. Tony, Bruce, Thor, Clint, you two goofballs." She playfully poked their sides. "You're my family."
For the rest of the night, until the darkness faded into the light, until the moon stopped leading the dance and the sun took her chance to lead, until the gleeful birdsong rose with the horizon, they lay in companionable silence, each realising that what Natasha had said was true. Oh, it was true.
It was so, so true.
"This isn't how you make a coffee!"
"Well maybe we have different ways of doing that, Tony," retorted Bruce.
For the last ten minutes, they'd been arguing over how to make the perfect coffee. Right now, they were inspecting each other's effort, critiquing everything they deemed wrong about the other. This happened a lot. So often that the other Avengers often gathered around to watch who would win what they deemed 'the Ultimate Showdown.' Harry especially found it very amusing to watch two of the most brilliant minds in the world fight over how to make a coffee. Today, the audience consisted of Harry, Steve and Natasha. Clint was absent, doing something that he refused to tell the rest of the team.
Their argument was interrupted by a thundering BOOM! The building shook like an earthquake was rocking the Earth, except that the tremors came from above. There was silence for a second, before they all realised what had happened, or rather, who had arrived.
"That was quicker than I thought it would be," commented Steve. "He said he wouldn't be back for another three months."
"Last up there has to buy coffee for everyone?" So it seemed that the solution to the coffee debacle was outsourcing it. Harry immediately stood and turned on his heel, disappearing with a deafening crack. He could make it quieter now, but theatrics was what he was going for.
He landed on the roof of Avengers Tower, around ten metres away from where Thor was standing. Thor wheeled around to see Harry, a great smile splitting his face.
"It is good to see you, Harry. This is a quicker welcome than I expected."
"Yeah, well, if I didn't get up here quick enough I would have to buy coffee for the rest of the team." Thor's face paled.
"That is an understandable reason to get here as quick as you did. That is not something I would want to do."
"I also wanted to see you," Harry added. It was true; he didn't know Thor and wanted to get to know him better.
"That is nice. It seems the others have arrived." Thor looked over Harry's shoulder. Harry turned around to see the rest of the team spilling out of the double glass doors to get to where they were standing. Tony was partially clad in his Iron Man suit, using the repulsors on his hands to get him in front of the rest of the team. Steve was sprinting.
In the end, Bruce arrived last. He raised his hands in surrender.
"Well, at least now I won't have to suffer through Tony's coffee."
"Hey!"
Thor chuckled, impossibly loud. He seemed to have an invisible megaphone perpetually strapped to his throat. "It is good to see you all again. I missed this."
"What, the bickering?"
"Precisely."
After that, they all returned to the communal living area, with a defeated Bruce venturing out into the city to find coffee for all of the Avengers, except Harry. He still preferred tea any day of the week.
"So, how are things going on Asgard, big guy?" asked Tony, lounging on the couch.
Thor sat down, placing Mjolnir on the coffee table. "Everything is in order. My brother has been sentenced to solitary confinement and is locked up in the dungeons. There is no chance of him getting out, rest assured. The Allfather made sure of that. There are a few tensions brewing with the Marauders, but nothing that I need to be called for yet. I decided to take the time to visit my friends now in case something does happen in the future."
"Wasn't the Bifrost destroyed?" asked Natasha.
"Yes, I did destroy. It had now been repaired months ahead of schedule, which is why I was able to return to Midgard. I find that―what is that delectable smell?" Thor's head snapped towards the kitchen, where Steve was busy fiddling with the toaster.
"It's a poptart? They're nearly ready if you want any. I thought they would be something easy to snack on while we catch up."
"In other words, Steve doesn't know how to work anything in the kitchen except the toaster," laughed Harry. "Even that is sometimes beyond him." Harry and Natasha grimaced as they remembered the burnt toast disaster of a week ago.
"I would like to sample of these...poptarts." Thor hesitated over the name. "I am sure I would find them most delicious."
Suddenly, a strangely muffled "NO!" sounded from within the walls. It sounded like...Clint. It couldn't be, though.
"Did anyone else hear that?"
"DON'T GIVE THOR THE POPTARTS!"
"Definitely. Does it sound like Clint to you?" Steve said, pausing his perusal of the toaster.
"HE'LL EAT ALL OF THEM!"
"It's him, alright. Where is he, though?"
In answer, the vent cover on the wall was kicked across the room. It clattered to the floor. No one paid attention to that, though. What they were paying attention to was Clint tumbling out of the vent in a ball of limbs, bow at his side, face crazed, breathing hard.
So that was what he had been doing when he refused to tell anyone. Exploring the vents. That was a new one.
"Don't. Give. Thor. Any of them."
There was a second of silence.
Then everyone burst into laughter at the sheer ridiculousness of the situation that would later come to be known as, 'The First Battle of the Poptart War."
When poor Bruce arrived back he had no idea what everyone was in hysterics about.
He would soon find out.
The Avengers were at a loss.
All the supplies in the kitchen were gone (utensils, food and for some reason, the stove), some of their clothes had gone walkabout and the sheets had vanished. Tony checked the surveillance cameras, but nothing came up. No footage had been deleted, so the mystery continued. Nobody quite knew what to do about it, and JARVIS was resolutely refusing to order the missing items in from the outside, much to Tony's consternation. Nobody seemed to listen to the requests.
The solution came on sleepy Saturday morning, everyone wrapped in a ridiculous amount of blankets, when Bruce simply said, "Why don't we go out and get what we need?"
The next fifteen minutes were filled with disbelief that none of them had thought of that (except for Tony, who claimed he thought of it immediately but just didn't feel like leaving the tower) and the devising of a crazy plan. Eventually, they decided on a shopping location: The nearest mall. There were things there to satisfy everyone, with high-end stores for Tony and a good supermarket for the ones who were going to do the food shopping.
Disguises, consisting of caps, sunglasses and dark sweatshirts, were donned. Harry offered to glamour them, but they laughed down his suggestion. He did have to admit, though this plan was significantly more ridiculous than his idea, it was also more fun. He felt like a spy infiltrating enemy territory. The goal?
To not be recognised.
Easier said than done, especially when you have Thor in your group, who is the opposite of subtle.
They all piled into cars and drove to the mall. As they walked in, suspicious looks were cast their way, but no one said anything. So far, so good. Tony decided to focus on the linen, seeing as he lived with Pepper and now (apparently) had an intimate knowledge of sheets. Natasha split off with him, just in case he managed to get something as simple as sheet shopping wrong. Thor, Clint and Bruce went along to the utensils store, as well as the store that sold ovens. Harry was thankful that Bruce was going along with them, given the dramatics that Thor and Clint were prone to. He would be a good grounding force.
That left Harry and Steve to go food shopping. The supermarket was on the other side of the mall, so they calmly walked over, trying to keep their minds off what disasters could potentially happen. It wasn't even a question of whether something would go on; on the contrary, it was a question of when. Though the general public may not know it, when they weren't fighting hordes of evil aliens, the Avengers were surprisingly disaster-prone.
Their bit of shopping went without disaster. The only remarkably notable thing about the experience was the checkout operator, a young woman who gave them a knowing look. Harry silently pleaded with her to stay quiet. Luckily, she seemed to respect their wishes and saw them on their way.
No, the disaster began when they were halfway back to the rendezvous point, near the store where Thor, Clint and Bruce were shopping for ovens. The normal hubbub of the mall, low chatter, scraping chairs and the squeaking of shoes, was suddenly cut off by a victorious shout and then a lot of swearing. Harry and Steve both paled. They knew those voices. They knew those voices very well.
It was Thor and Tony.
They sprinted forward, gripping the many bags of food extra tight. One more corner to round and then they saw something they weren't expecting.
Thor was carrying an oven over his head, chattering animatedly with Clint and Bruce. Next to him was furious Tony, yelling at Thor, who looked utterly clueless.
"This is not what I needed today, Point Break! I just bought these sheets and now you've gone and spilt them on the floor! They're expensive."
"Well, I'm carrying an oven. I don't think you have the right to talk to me when I am in possession of such a glorious contraption." Thor smiled, refusing to place it down on the ground. A crowd was growing, phones being pulled out, people recognising the arguing pair.
Mission failed.
And in the background, while they were kicked out of the mall by security, Thor still proudly hefting the oven above his head, Bruce smiled innocently. Only Harry saw this. But at that moment, he remembered that Bruce Banner was scarily intelligent, and getting this disaster organised wouldn't be beyond his intelligence. He was nice enough to charm AI and assistants.
The crafty little bugger.
The news that night was very amusing, filled with videos of Tony and Thor arguing, while the rest of the team stood in the back looking vaguely uncomfortable. It was a moment that would go down in history, mainly from the video named: Mallvengers: Oven vs Sheets
Trust.
That was something Harry didn't do easily. He'd been betrayed too many times. It took him a long time. So the fact that he was sitting in the communal lounge, about to share his childhood with the rest of the team, was a big thing for him. It had taken years before he shared with Ron and Hermione. The only person in the room who knew about it was Steve. Not even Natasha was privy to this information.
They were all sharing something important tonight.
Harry decided it was his turn.
In the beginning, the words were lead on his tongue, poison on his lips. Nothing came out, yet everything did. The longer he talked, the easier it became. Janky, stilted words fell into a comfortable reason as he shared. A weight lifted off his shoulders. He was understood.
And though they were silent afterwards, taking in what he'd just said, that was more powerful than any words could be. They understood him.
They understood.
And that was when Harry truly came to trust his team, his family. He was staying here for a long time.
"SHIT!"
Harry ducked down behind a wall as a foam bullet rocketed towards him. It ricocheted harmlessly off the wood, falling to the floor and rolling towards him. He kicked it away. The devious little bullet may usually be harmless, a sign of a good time between friends, an indicator of innocent fun.
However, when Tony Stark decided to load them into a JARVIS controlled launched, that became a different story. Especially when the launcher was in his bedroom and the nerf bullet woke him up from a very nice dream, hitting him in the middle of the forehead. When they continued pelting him, Harry rolled out of the bed and hid behind a wall, leading him to his current predicament.
"That's not a very nice way to respond," said JARVIS patiently. "This is a gift from Mr Stark in return for the antlers you gave all of his suits. It is also from Mr Rogers, Miss Romanoff and Dr Banner. They don't appreciate your latest exploits.
Harry groaned. Why hadn't he thought of that sooner? Of course, it was in retaliation to those little pranks. The payback was due any day now, and here it was. Knowing the Avengers, this would only be the beginning of an entire day of misery that he would have no way of stopping (if he wanted to, he could easily stop it, but there was no fun in that).
"Yeah, well no shit."
"I don't appreciate that language being used in this building."
In retaliation, Harry poked his wand out from around the corner, pointing it at the launcher that was sticking out of his ceiling and whispered, "Minisces." The soft flump of the nerf bullets turned into a strange slapping, flopping noise. Harry glanced around the corner and saw a sight that would make him chuckle for days to come.
In the place of all the nerf bullets, there was fish. Lots and lots of tiny fish. JARVIS stopped firing, giving Harry a chance to skedaddle out of the rooms before he could be bombarded with another wave of tiny fish.
"That was close," he murmured, wiping his brow and flopping down on the couch. He then remembered that he was in his pyjamas. One glance down was all it took for him to groan again. Somehow his pyjamas had been replaced with an Avengers print that he knew could be found at Target. "Come on, you've got to be kidding me."
He needed a way to get back at them. The entire day would be filled with endless pranks, with these only being the beginning of them. A glance around the room confirmed his hunch. The curtains were completely gone, the television was replaced with a cardboard cut out and...for Merlin's sake. Harry pinched the bridge of his nose. The over was completely gone, nowhere to be seen.
Why was it always the oven?
Wait.
Maybe the best revenge could be going about his day completely normally, without reacting to anything. That would likely irk them to no end. Hmm. He could also subtly lay his traps and tricks while they were too busy consorting on how to make him react.
Harry quickly transfigured his clothes to something more manageable than the awful pyjamas. Jeans and a T-shirt. That would do.
Now to begin the master plan.
He sauntered out of his room, deftly stepping over the puddle outside his door. How annoyed must Tony be if he allowed a puddle in his precious tower? This was going to be harder than he thought. No matter. If there was anything Harry was good at, it was beating impossible odds. His entire life was a testament to that.
Nothing else happened on the way to the communal lounge. It didn't rid him of suspicion. It just made him more cautious. When he got out there, all of the team were sitting on the couch, oddly silent. Harry wouldn't call them a team right now. Currently, they were the enemy.
"Morning, guys. Does anyone know why there are fish in my room? It smells a right storm in there. And not the good kind," he gave a pointed look at Thor. "It's no problem, though. Shall I cook breakfast? I haven't done it in a while."
"That would be nice." Natasha' voice was perfectly normal. Too normal. What could be waiting for him in the kitchen?.
"Yeah, thanks. Can you do eggs?"
"Sure, Steve. Eggs good with everyone?" They all nodded, a tad too enthusiastically. Harry made his way to the kitchen, checking out everything there was to see. It appeared normal. But don't judge a book by the cover, Harry told himself.
Just as well. The second he opened the egg carton, they all exploded out onto his face. It was cold, slimy, somehow fast and slow at the same time. The contents of the eggs were utterly disgusting. After regaining his composure, Harry remarked:
"Huh. I think you got the wrong brand of eggs." Wandlessly, he cast a delayed animation spell on the oven. If they were so keen to continue the theme of the oven, who was he to deny them that? "JARVIS, can you get some new eggs in?"
"I'll be sure they're not of the exploding variety."
"Appreciated."
The rest of the day continued in a similar vein, with Harry completing his usual routine, acting as if the pranks (which included a conveyer belt couch, a computer that used the letter next to the one he pressed, all his clothes going missing, Steve sprinting around in the Invisibility cloak and cackling like the Wicked Witch of the West, his shampoo secretly being hair dye which left him with bright green hair, and so many more) were no more than slightly alarming to him. He had to admit, they were rather hilarious, and keeping a straight face was difficult at times. During all of this, he'd been secretly laying his traps.
Now it was time for them to come to fruition.
Three…
Two…
One...
Now.
There was an ungainly squawk that belonged to Natasha as the chair she was sitting on transfigured into a flock of colourful macaws all taunting her. From the kitchen, a surprised yelp as the oven door latched onto Steve's arm and didn't let go. Down the hallway, there were three cries of frustration as Tony, Bruce and Clint all found the gravity changing with every step they took, leading to them looking like a bunch of uncoordinated foals. Thor just watched in wonderment as his hair slowly drifted upwards, standing on end, while the floor slowly devoured his feet. By the time he looked down, he was already up to his knees in the floor.
While all this was happening, Harry lounged on the couch with his bright pink hair, raising an eyebrow in challenge. Everyone else vs him.
The next few months were terrifying for anyone who visited the upper floors. This period would come to be known as 'The Great Prank War of 2012.'
No one would ever forget, especially Harry who was eventually beat. Not even the wisdom of George Weasley could save him when slugs began to pour out of his shower, the walls surged forwards to keep him hostage and his magic couldn't get him out of the wall's embrace. He couldn't get out and wasn't going to set free until he surrendered the prank war. Of course, when they let him out after her 'surrendered' Harry went out with a blaze of glory, temporarily making everyone except himself in the room bald. Thor especially was affected by this, frantically running hands over his now shiny head.
After that, Harry conceded, true to his word.
He didn't return their hair for another week, though.
Six months after the Battle of New York, Harry finally got around to seeing up what he decided to call the 'Trophy Cabinet.' He was going to put it in his room, eventually deciding against it. Just because he got the helmet off of Loki didn't mean he got to have it all to himself. Defeating Loki was a team effort.
As he polished the helmet, getting ready to put it behind the glass, his thoughts strayed towards the gem at the end of Loki's sceptre and how he seemed to be immune to its effects. Was he immune because he broke out of its control? Or was it something to do with becoming the Master of Death. There were so many theories going around inside his head. It was a neverending whirlwind, one that he was keeping to himself right now. He wasn't going to present his theories until he had a solid one. As much as he knew the others trusted him, he didn't want to lay something too heavy on their shoulders right now.
In the future, the best thing to do would be to get a hold of the sceptre again and run tests. Usually, Harry would be opposed to this, but for once he needed to this. Testing his limits with the sceptre compared to others could give them an advantage with any future enemies that were out there. Harry was no fool. He knew they were there. He would be stupid to believe that the Chitauri were the only evil army out there. He could still hear that deep, rumbling voice in his head, tempting him to join, tempting him to give in.
The words came to him at the worst moments. Sometimes, it sent shivers down his spine. Other times, it only reminded him that he needed to work harder to find out who was behind the Attack on New York. Who was this strange figure who was in league with Loki? Was he an equal? Something more? Something less? Maybe he was a crazy space warlord who committed genocide because be believed their beliefs were the only way. His mind was working overtime to try and find out who it was, but there was nothing he could do at the moment except wonder, nothing he could except plan and plot.
So many questions to be answered and Harry instinctively knew that the key lay with the Sceptre. With the gem encased within it. By extension, this meant Harry and his relationship with the gem. There was something more there, he knew. It was an intense itch that was always there. Something was drawing him towards the sceptre, something intoxicating and addicting, that would flood through his veins and give him everything he ever wanted…
Harry vigorously shook his head, dropping the helmet in shock. Where did those thoughts come from? When did he start thinking that the sceptre was an addiction that could grant all of his wishes, make all his deepest desires come true? Harry knew that if he wanted to, he could wield it and see that stars reflected in his eyes, the world whirling around him. That wasn't what he wanted to do, though. All Harry wanted was to run some tests on it concerning his immunity. If he could figure out what was behind the sceptre, who was the mastermind of the attack, that would be one step closer to preventing disaster.
He wouldn't let anyone more die.
Sighing, Harry placed the helmet in the glass cabinet and closed the door. A few waves of his wand and wards were placed around it. There couldn't be a safer helmet on all of Earth, he thought. Perhaps in the Gringotts vaults, but Harry didn't know about all of the Gringotts vaults.
"Finally got it up, did you?"
Harry spun around to find Natasha standing right behind him. "Yeah. No more sitting around for this helmet." He patted the glass fondly while imagining a helmetless Loki. The thought made him chuckle slightly.
"I was going to talk about keeping it all for yourself." She smirked slightly. "We all need to be reminded of our victories sometimes."
She didn't need to say the rest. Harry knew that spirits got down sometimes, especially with those who couldn't see the good in what the Avengers had done. Harry didn't understand how people could become so jaded that they would rather they did nothing. Did they not recognise the good they did? It wasn't his place to interfere, though.
"Yeah, we do."
She sat down on the couch, inviting Harry to do the same. He plonked down next to her, closer than he would have a few months ago.
"I've been assigned a mission. I'll be gone for a month."
"Oh? Where are you going?"
"Now, you know that's classified information, Potter. I can't tell you."
"Not even for me?"
"Especially not for you."
"I am insulted. Never have I encountered such insolence. Out of my sight!" Harry pointed towards the door, sniffing dramatically. Natasha didn't budge. "Well, I never. This is outrageous."
"Mmmhmm, keep telling yourself that and maybe one day you'll believe it."
Harry blinked. "Okay, you win with that one. I surrender, O Great One." He mockingly bowed down.
"At last someone understand my greatness. Ahh, what a relief."
"When will you be leaving?"
"Next Wednesday. I'll be fine, you know. You don't need to worry about me."
"I know, it doesn't mean I won't."
She smiled up at him, before laying her head on his shoulder. "That's what I like about you. Always looking out for others."
"It's what I do, Nat. It's what I do."
"Don't ever stop."
They fell into an easy silence, with Harry's arm around Natasha's shoulder and her head resting on his. This...this was nice. He could stay like this for a long while.
Unfortunately, their moment was interrupted by the flash of a camera and Steve yelling, "FINALLY, some progress."
So much for the relaxed atmosphere.
As Harry and Natasha chased down a cackling Steve (at this point, Harry was beginning to suspect that he was a relative of the Wicked Witch of the West with how much he did it) he smiled to himself.
His life was crazy but he wouldn't have it any other way.
Wow, this was a long one. The longest chapter I've ever done, in fact. It was meant to be 4000 words but kind of grew. I wish my plants would do that. They all seem to die. That makes me sad. Now I sound like Bill Wurtz. Cue the even crazier space dust Anyway, I hope that you enjoyed it, I put a lot of effort into it. Can you tell that? I hope you can. I'm going on a tangent here, which will turn into a never-ending loop. Damn. Let me stop before I go off the rails Also, should Harry be able to lift Mjolnir at any point? I'm undecided on that bit. Would it make him too OP? I'm already walking a fine line. Just saying this before I finish the chapter.
Question of the chapter: What is the longest thing you have ever written and are you proud of it? What would you do to change it or make it better? Do you like writing longer or shorter things?
Why don't you join my discord server dedicated to all things fanfiction? The link is: /Kb9zJgV
We're nearly at 500 reviews, 2000 follows, 1400 favourites and 30 C2s. I'm freaking out. Thank you so much, you don't know how much this means to me. Thank you, thank you, thank you.
Sincerely
Mariadoria :)