Holy shit.

The air under his wings was glorious. How it carried him up, letting him coast through the amber-stained skies, ruffling his feathers and whistling in his ears, was utterly...right. This was incredible. Harry knew he'd always liked flying, there was no question about it. He never realised just how right it was, though. Not until this moment, where he was soaring through the skies, with no one able to stop him. Nothing could stop him when he was up here.

Nothing except the looming deadline. For a week, he'd studied the best time to go out flying so he couldn't be spotted by those in New York. In the end, he settled on the evening, where the sky was orangey-gold, a similar colour to the plumage of the thunderbird. Coupled with the fact that if he transformed while under the disillusionment charm and flying up high, no one was likely to spot him. It was also determined that the disillusionment charm only stuck for an hour before wearing off. That was okay, he thought.

No.

No, it wasn't.

An hour was barely enough time to revel in how free he felt, how light he was, how powerful the beats of his wings were. How could it be? Harry would quite happily spend hours up here. There were no worries, no cares, no responsibilities.

So, when he flew back to the landing pad of Avengers Tower and the charm wore off, he sat for a few minutes, still a thunderbird. The skyline of them, slowly becoming a silhouette, was almost enough to quash the bitter disappointment that rose within him. He would have to face reality, and the results of the tests with the mind stones, soon. For now, he would sit here and enjoy the quiet.

Harry couldn't remember the last time he felt like this. It was nice. Quiet. It couldn't last, though. Time to go back inside and face the music. And by face the music, he meant staying on the ground. After a flight like that, everything else was painted in shades of grey, while the sky above was screaming colour.

With a sigh that sounded like a very pathetic warble, Harry turned back into his normal self. Without the massive wingspread of seven metres (Tony was adamant about measuring every aspect of his thunderbird form), Harry felt very small. Now was no time to feel sorry for himself, though. Waiting inside were the results of the testing with the mind stone, the results of weeks of tireless toiling.

He squared his shoulders.

Time to face the music.

He was about to walk inside when something flitted through the back of his mind. It was cold, steadfast, deadly. Harry stopped in his tracks. He knew that feeling. He'd only felt it once, but he could never forget it. In a second, that rumbling voice would be echoing around his head, demeaning him, drawing him in.

Instead, all it said was: "Fool. Your time is running out."

The Resurrection Stone, fastening the invisibility cloak together, pulsed, so hot it almost burned. Harry didn't notice. He was filled with an overwhelming sense of dread. He knew that tone. Had heard it before. That was the tone of a man who was prepared for war, who knew what he wanted and was on his way to get it. The type of man who was arrogant enough to warn his enemies that he was coming. He had to warn the others, assemble the team once again, not even a year after the Battle of New York.

At that point, Harry didn't care that there was someone in his head. He was sprinting, they barely had any time at all. The familiar halls of Stark Tower blurred together until he reached the lab where the tests took place. Tony, Natasha, Steve, Clint and Bruce were surrounding a table in the centre of the room. Holograms hung in the air, the sceptre gem glinting ominously in the middle of the table.

"Ah, good to see you, smaller Cap," said Tony, looking up from the holograms. "Ready to hear the re—"

"No time," interrupted Harry. "We have to hurry. We can't rely on that now."

"Harry, what's going on?" asked Natasha.

"He's coming."

"Who?" asked Steve. The team was looking mildly panicked at this time, knowing how much it took to get Harry worked up like this. Sure, he got annoyed, but this was different. This was near panic, desperation for something to happen.

Harry grabbed his hair in frustration. "I don't know who. All I know is that he is related to the mind stone, tried to get me to join him and is extremely dangerous. I think he may have something to do with Loki and the Chitauri."

"Woah, slow down." Tony made calming motions with his hands. "Are you serious about this?"

"Look me in the eyes and tell me that I'm not fucking serious, Stark," Harry growled. The room became notably colder, lights flickering as Harry's anger became more potent by the second. "We have two days tops. This guy, I know his type. They give a warning, wait the minimum amount of time and then strike. So no, this isn't a fucking joke. We have to be ready." He swallowed, voice thick. "I'm not losing anyone close to me ever again. So don't question me."

The room was silent. No one spoke. No one moved. Then:

"Alright, guys, you heard him. Let's get moving." Steve stood, moving toward the exit.

The rest of the team followed.

Silent.

Stoic.

Secretly scared.

The next day was a whirlwind and a half. There wasn't a wasted minute. At midday, when the sense of impending doom pressed down heavier and heavier, Harry was in his suite changing into his new and upgraded gear. Dragonhide armour mixed with tactical SHIELD gear, in a colour scheme of dark blue and black. He fastened the invisibility cloak, which was now an iridescent blue, and strode out into the main common room.

No words needed to be said. Everyone knew the gravity of the situation. SHIELD was informed, as were the defence forces. Something was coming, something big, they just didn't know what. It was a waiting game now.

Harry was looking for one person in particular. One with red hair and a penchant for electrocuting her enemies. After a short while of looking, he found her, reading over notes on Loki for the umpteenth time. A small smile crept over his face.

"Yes?" she asked, not even taking her eyes off the notes. "I thought we couldn't waste a moment. Those were your exact words."

"Yeah, well, I don't consider this a waster moment, Nat." She stood, walking over to him.

"Then what is it that has you so worked up." She smiled slightly. "Don't try and hide it under that ridiculous armour. I can see it plain as day. So why don't you tell me?" Natasha crossed her arms.

"Well," Harry began, his throat suddenly drying up, "there's something I've been wanting to tell you for a while. I figured that this was a good time to do that, what with the fact that we might not live through this."

"No, that's wrong. You're worried that I won't live through this. We both know that you have a slight problem with dying." One step closer to him. "You don't need to worry about me, I can handle myself."

"I know you can. That doesn't mean I can't l—care about you."

"Oh, for God's sake, stop tripping over your words. I know what you want to say, Harry, I have since you got these feelings."

"You...have?" Stupid question, Potter, she's Natasha Romanoff.

"Of course."

"That's...nice."

She raised an eyebrow, finger tapping. "So, are you going to come out and say it? Or do I have to do the talking." Harry moved his mouth but no words came out. "Alright then."

And then she stood up and kissed him. It was deep and desperate, and everything he ever wanted. It was over far too quickly, and as she pulled back, he could see the same feelings in her usually guarded eyes.

"If we never get the chance to do that again, that was everything I dreamed of. So, yeah, now you know."

"Now I know." She pulled him in for another kiss, shorter this time, but just as wonderful. "Not that I didn't before." She took a step back, returning to the table. "I've got to read over these one more time. You go and prepare some more." He nodded, knowing that that was what needed to be done, even if he really wanted to stay with her.

"Okay."

Just as he was about to leave the room, Natasha spoke: "I'll be okay, you know."

He gave a smile. "I know."

One hour later, despite their ceaseless preparation, the world exploded.

Hi, it's been a while. Exams are hectic, and I've been in a bit of a downward spiral. Sorry for the short length, it really was a slog to get this out. I hope that you enjoyed it, though, short as it is.

I regret to inform you that I am going to be taking a break from this story, from all my stories, as I have a lot of things coming up the require my attention. I have my dance medals, for musical theatre and tap, NCEA exams (which are not nice), show week for Wizard of Oz and the rehearsals before it, which entails twelve hour rehearsal days, and my Grade Eight musical theatre exam with Trinity College. After this, I will be returning to this story, rest assured. I just need to focus on these things more at the moment. Things will still be happening behind the scenes, such as planning, but for the moment this story is on hold. I should be back around December 7th, if my maths is correct, with the next story.

Also, relationship, finally. And Thanos. Thanos isn't good.

That's all for now.

Farewell until the next time, my dear, dear readers,
Mariadoria