Harry felt a sense of nostalgia whenever he visited London. It took him back to days of living with Ginny, nights spent drinking too much with Ron, and being nagged by Hermione, before he'd realised he'd stopped aging. The pain of their deaths had ceased to hurt hundreds of years ago, but he would never forget his oldest and truest friends.

There were no Weasleys in this world, as there was no magic, but a Muggle Hermione Granger existed. She had two doctorates and was currently studying for the Bar. There was a café in London that she frequented and today was one such day. He bought himself a coffee and sat with a paper, trying not to stare.

"You may as well go chat to her."

Harry jumped, and looked guiltily away from Hermione to the man that had spoken to him.

"Hawkeye?" he said incredulously, then grinned. He swept the other man into a hug. His gaze flicked around the room, noting that a wide-eyed barista was quietly speaking to each of the customers, evacuating the café.

"You don't have to kick everyone else out," he said. "That's just rude. This is the greatest cup of coffee in Westminster."

Chagrin crossed Clint's face. "Not my call,"

Harry smirked. "No, I suspect not. There a perimeter around the building?"

Clint didn't answer. He didn't have to.

Harry shook his head. "What a waste of resources." He pulled the phone that they must have used to track him out of his pocket, then flicked his fingers at Clint. Several devices screeched, then died a sad electronic death. The CCTV camera exploded, and Harry made a mental note to send an anonymous donation to the shop.

"Fancy seeing where I grew up?" he offered, while Clint pulled his earpiece out with a disgruntled look upon his face.

"I'm not sure I have a choice."

Harry frowned. "You always have a choice. Say no, walk away from here without another word. I'd let you go, of course. Say yes, go on an adventure. Or counter my offer with something more exciting."

Clint rolled his eyes and punched him on the shoulder. "Dick. Go on then."

Harry grabbed his arm and they Disapparated.


"Fuck," Fury said, as all of their cameras shorted out.

Natasha pursed her lips. She wasn't sure how Fury hadn't seen that coming. Stark was muttering profanities about his precious electronics being fried, but there was a curious expression on Banner's face that was only matched by contemplative one on Steve's.

"For one second, let's forget that Phoenix has made off with the Tesseract, a device that could be argued isn't even ours to lay claim to," Steve said. Fury glared at him, but Steve barrelled on. "Nothing else he's done has actually been detrimental to SHIELD."

"He even helped us, helped Loki," Banner said.

"He seems to genuinely like Clint," Steve said. "That sort of interaction is hard to fake."

Fury crossed his arms. "What are you trying to say?"

Natasha exchanged a glance with Steve.

"Treating him like he's the enemy isn't going to help anyone's cause," she eventually said, intrigued to see where Steve was going with this.

Banner cleaned his glasses on his shirt. "I'm, a, well, I'm a class five threat, but you seemed satisfied to just monitor me, or so you say."

"Treat him the same," Stark pondered. "Definitely better than trying to hunt him around the globe."

"Not even Loki has the same teleportation capabilities," Thor said. He'd been quiet observing until then. "You have no means to contain him and I do not even know if Asgard has the technology." He huffed. "Not that we would even try."


"Dude, you're an immortal being from another universe and you grew up in this cookie cutter suburban hell?"

Harry glanced around Privet Drive. It was just as he remembered.

"Yeah. Mr and Mrs Dursley, of number 4 Privet Drive, were proud to say that they were perfectly normal, thank you very much," he said and grimaced.

"No shit," Clint said. Harry imagined he could see Petunia peering out, gazing at the two strange men standing outside her house.

"This is where I grew up, but it wasn't my home." He grabbed Clint's shoulder and Apparated them to Hogwarts.

It was a ruin, owned by the National Trust, a far sight from the thriving castle it had been the last time he'd seen it.

"This pile of stone?"

Harry laughed. He brushed his hand over Clint's eyes. Clint gasped when he opened them again.

"Wow," he said with feeling.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. He'd given him the view of Hogwarts that every first year saw on their approach to the castle. Breath-taking, heart-stopping, made of dreams and magic.

"It was a school, my school, of people like me." He ambled around the Black Lake, Clint a few steps behind him. "Mermaids and a giant squid lived the lake. Unicorns dwelled in the forest, and children raced about the halls of the castle." He added these to the illusion he'd created. "Hagrid's hut," he said, gesturing as the wooden cottage came to life. He paused, then recreated himself, Ron and Hermione leaning against one of the boulders that dotted the grounds, after the war, enjoying the sunshine and peace of eight year.

"It's wonderful," Clint said. Harry smiled, and let the illusion fall away, leaving behind moss covered relics of an age long gone.

"That it was," Harry agreed.

"So, I don't suppose I can persuade you to return the Tesseract?" Clint said.

"I'm afraid not."

Clint snorted. "You're a right bastard, Phoenix."

Harry shrugged. "I'll give you a lift back home to make it up to you. Or to the helicarrier?"

Clint smirked. "Think you can get me into Fury's office undetected?"

"Of course."


Three shots rang out from Fury's office just after he disappeared into it and Natasha sprinted back down the corridor.

"Woah, easy!" Clint cried. "Do I look like a brain washed sycophant?"

Fury was standing with his gun levelled at Clint, a fierce expression on his face. "How did you get in here?" he growled.

"My apologies," Harry said. Natasha spun, but didn't bother pulling her gun. He was standing behind the desk, examining the paperwork. "That was my doing."

He was smirking, the arrogant pillock. "I believe you wanted to talk to me?"

Clint snickered as he left the room, but Fury stopped Natasha from following. She leaned against the wall and said nothing. Harry shot her a look of amusement, but turned back to Fury.

"What are you doing here?" Fury asked.

Harry looked faux offended. "I'm giving in my two weeks notice."

"Two weeks… you're fired, is what you are. That's the second time you've kidnapped one my employees, not to mention stealing the Tesseract."

Harry shrugged. "The Tesseract was too dangerous to leave in mortal hands."

Fury's finger twitched, as if he wanted to empty his clip into Harry and find out just how 'immortal' he was. Harry seemed to be able to tell, as his smile widened. Natasha shivered.

"Anything else?" Fury growled.

Harry tilted his head. "No, I don't think so."

He disappeared with a loud crack.

"Displaced air," Stark said from the doorway. "That's what that sound is." He was eyeing the empty space with an intrigued look.

"Do I look like I care?" Fury said, turning to scowl at Stark.

Stark smirked. "So, I've compiled a history of Agent Phoenix, AKA, Harry Potter, AKA many other aliases."

Fury sighed. He strode round to take his seat and beckoned them both in.

"I've got JARVIS running facial rec, on, well, pretty much everything. Photos, paintings, murals, anything we can find. He first appears in the UK, the 1700s, as Henry, Duke of Cumberland. His marriage to a commoner actually instigated the 1772 Royal Marriages Act. Then he migrates to America, Australia, America and then back to Europe as a name we'll all recognise – ever wonder how Houdini escaped those handcuffs? Magic! Then, as I'm sure you know, Harry Blackstone, when he first became involved with SHIELD, until surfacing as Harry Potter thirty odd years ago. Of course, with his mobility, it's hard to pin down where and when he first came to the planet, and once you get to the 1800s historical sources become wildly inaccurate." Tony shrugged. "But there you have it."

He'd flicked through the names and dates of each of Harry's aliases on a StarkPad, a photo popping up beside each one. Those same verdant eyes peered out from under a messy black mop of hair in every picture.

"He's immortal," Natasha said, finally realising what that truly meant. His face aged in each life, before returning to perfect youth for each new regeneration.

"Yup," Tony said. "Whatever he's drinking, I want some."


If anybody would like a history of Harry's life, here you go:

1745 – 1790: Henry Hanover Duke of Cumberland - British nobility
1790 – 1826: Harry Moore - American soldier
1819 – 1891: Harry Power - Horse thief sentenced to Australia
1874 – 1926: Harry Houdini - Magician
1935 – 1997: Harry Blackstone - Magician, actor, author (SHIELD Agent)

There's overlap in the dates because Harry doesn't want to subject himself to being a child, and merely makes up his year of birth. These are all real people.