For albus potter-greengrass
Stacked with: SoC; Cluster; MLG; Garden Badges (Major Fandom); Ministry
Individual Challenge(s): Red Dress [Y]; Ginger; Behind Green Eyes [Y]; Gryffindor MC; Future Era; New Fandom Smell; Old Shoes [Y]; Marvelous Cinema; In a Flash;
Representation(s): The only two who decide to live at the compound; close friends
Word Count: 402
Natasha looked beautiful in the flickering firelight.
On Tony's death, a large sum of money had been bequeathed to a trust for the Avengers, controlled by one Pepper Potts. She and darling Morgan had met with the remnants of the team long after the funeral and it was like a dam suddenly broke; the next thing anyone knew, Morgan was asking if they could have Christmas at the compound.
"There's no fireplace, mommy," she'd complained once. "They'll all get cold."
And so the compound gained a fireplace. And Natasha looked otherworldly in its light.
People often wondered if he liked to spend time with her because she reminded him of Ginny. The answer was no, not for a lack of love for Ginny – may she rest in peace – but because Natasha was so completely different. Where Ginny was a beautiful bluster, Natasha was a silky calm that settled on your skin. She was soothing to be around in that time just after everyone came back from the Snap.
She was broken after the Snap, though.
All of them were, to differing levels, but Natasha and Harry were the first ones who came crawling back to the compound in search of something like family and the only ones who stayed. It was almost like it was their home and theirs alone, the echoing halls and cold marble and the walls they'd painted without asking anyone for permission.
Pepper always apologized when she asked if she and Morgan could come over for tea (Morgan loved tea time, and Harry didn't have the heart to tell her it wasn't much like in the cartoons at all for most people). Harry didn't mind, though, and he could tell Natasha didn't either.
It was… strangely domestic. They were strangely domestic together.
"You look beautiful," he told her from across the large, cold room. The red in her hair gleamed in the dim light, seeming to reflect the scarlet of the Christmas sweater Harry had complimented once and that she now wore regularly.
She smiled and patted a spot on the sofa next to her. "Come take a sit, Potter," she said in that tone that made him feel like he was the only man in the world. "You look freezing."
When he sat, she put her legs over his and flopped a plush blanket over top.
Natasha looked beautiful in the firelight, and she felt like home.