Previously:
"What-" Harry broke off licking his lips. "What year is it?" Harry asked softly, head titled sideways as he squinted slightly at the feel of such an odd question.
"2nd of May 2012." Fury announced brutally honest like ripping off a band aid.
-
"Take a seat Rogers, I have some questions for you." Fury instructed. He turned to face the others without seeing if Harry was going to comply. He gestured for them to take a seat at the conference table which they did almost immediately. Harry walked stiffly toward it, taking a seat as far from the others as he could. He let his head fall backwards, hand moving to cover exhausted, and aching eyes. "Let's get this over with." Harry groaned after a moment, straightening himself in his seat. -
Chapter 2: When Harry Met Steve
Steve watched the man who looked so like him, who apparently had his last name, move tensely to sit at the conference room with them. He slid into his seat in an almost mechanical manner before letting his head fall back. His right hand, dirty and cut, came up to cover his eyes. The young man let out an exhausted sigh, shoulders hitching slightly with it.
Steve's eyes traveled down the stranger's, oddly, naked chest. He took in the obvious muscles there despite the emancipated appearance. Steve had just enough time to stare grimly at the cuts, dirt, blood, and bruises coating the younger man's torso before the man sat forward.
"Let's get this over with." He grumbled low in his chest. The hand covering his eyes slid down rubbing his face as he did.
"Sure, let's start with who, exactly the hell, are you?" Howard's kid demanded briskly.
"Names Harry." The young man offered stiffly.
"Fury called you Rogers. That your last name?" Steve couldn't help himself from asking. Harry looked to him, his eyes seeming to stare at Steve as if searching for recognition.
"Yeah, Harry James Rogers to be exact." Harry agreed watching to see Steve's reaction. And boy did Steve give him one as his eyes went wide, fist clenching at his side even as his jaw locked tight.
"That the name you were born with?" Steve demanded hoarsely. Harry seemed to shift slightly in his seat looking to Fury for a moment before his eyes flickered back to Steve.
For the moment, the others seemed willing to let Steve take the lead on this one.
"No. James Steven Rogers is my birth name." Harry answered before pausing as if unwilling to continue. He sighed and Steve didn't miss how his right hand strayed toward his pocket, as if going for a weapon. "I've also been known by the name Harry James Potter." Harry finished looking around the room for any reaction.
Steve was surprised it was the second name Harry was so concerned about when it was the first that had blown Steve's world apart.
"Harry Potter?" Fury demanded. Harry turned his attention to Fury, hand drifting ever closer to his left pocket. He offered a simple jerking dip of his head in answer. Fury sat back in his seat and folded his hands in his lap. "You're claiming to be a lot of important people, kid. How do I know you're telling the truth?" Fury asked tensely.
Harry's eyes narrowed slightly before understanding crossed his face and he gave a weary nod.
"From as early on as I can remember until I was nine years old I had two sets of memories. Those of James Rogers and those of Harry Potter. Up until last year I firmly believed the memories of Harry Potter were my own. Except the real Harry Potter was killed by his Uncle two weeks before his ninth birthday." Harry revealed, looking away from the horrified faces of those watching him. "Thing was; Harry Potter was a national icon, more than that he was the prophesised hero that would save the world when war inevitably broke out again. The man that was supposed to protect him, that left him with his pig of an uncle in the first damn place, he panicked. He used some sort of ritual to pull a replacement out of history. A kid that was in his own rights born a national icon all because of who his father was." Here Harry shrugged. "That's where I come in, you see? Because once upon a time I was James Steven Rogers, the son of Captain America." Harry ignored the choking noises coming from those at the end of the table having expected it.
Steve could feel himself nearly hyperventilating. When he'd come to from the ice, they'd told him his son had gone missing back in 1953, never to be found again. Presumed dead. It had broken his heart worse than almost anything else. To find out his son had been yanked through time, waking up in a future he didn't understand at only nine years old all because of one man's mistake. To now know, that the man in front of him, the man with the haunted eyes so much like those Steve had seen a hundred times before on a hundred different soldiers, was his son. His little boy.
Steve wished they hadn't already captured Loki. He could've used something to hit.
"I was given Harry Potters memories; a disguise was placed on me and then I was forced to live with Harry Potter's Aunt and Uncle." Harry continued to speak despite the fact Steve was freaking the hell out.
Wait. Harry Potter's Uncle?
"The same Uncle that killed the original Harry Potter?" Tony Stark demanded before Steve himself, or anyone else, could.
"Yeah. They had their memories altered, made them believe Uncle Vernon had given Harry a bad beating but Harry had eventually recovered." Harry explained sounding seven kinds of detached from the story he was telling. "Everyone around me was calling me Harry, I looked like Harry Potter, had his memories. Eventually I believed it. I grew up as Harry Potter, went to the school he should have gone, fought the man that murdered his parents, adopted his war and lived his life. It wasn't until the man that put me in Harry's life was murdered that my disguise wore off. It took me and my best friends two months just to figure out what the hell had happened. I eventually remembered back when I was a kid, the strange dreams I used to have about being Captain America's boy. We looked it up, turns out I look a lot like my old man." Harry announced with a shrug as if he wasn't comparing himself to Steve.
"How did you come to be in our time?" Fury asked softly, well as softly as Fury was capable of anyway. Harry brought his hands up, rubbing vigorously at his face.
"I don't know." He grumbled from behind his hands, dropping them a second later to glare off into the distance before turning his head back to them. "I've been as honest as I can with you all, I'd appreciate you returning the favour. You can start by explaining who he is." Harry commanded, sitting up straighter as he pointed toward Steve.
Steve knew he probably looked a right mess as all eyes turned toward him. His hands were shaking, his breath short and if the chilled feeling in his spine was anything to go by he must have been pale white. Steve opened his mouth to speak but nothing came out leaving him to work his jaw uselessly.
Steve turned pleading eyes to Fury, begging the man to help him.
"In March 1945 Captain Steve Rogers led an attack on a HYDRA base where they suspected Johann Schmidt, also known as-" Fury began to explain.
"The Red Skull, I know." Harry interrupted rolling his eyes. "I know what happened that day. The Captain went after Schmidt, both were confirmed on board when the Valkyrie took off. They supposedly fought, the Captain gaining control of the plane. Steve Rogers broadcasted a radio transmission, Peggy Carter picked up. The two spoke briefly before Rogers put the plane in the water. It was the last anyone ever heard from him." Harry quickly summarised. "I know how my father died, thank you." He added dryly.
"Except you don't." Fury replied, clearly miffed at being interrupted before. "The Captain was never confirmed KIA, only presumed. Two weeks ago, the Valkyrie was found and on it-"
"Me." Steve interrupted, finally finding his voice. Harry spun to face Steve, eyes widening and mouth gaping. "I was frozen in the ice. The serum kept me alive and they were able to defrost me. In a blink of an eye I went from 1945 to 2012." Steve explained keeping his gaze trained on Harry.
"You- No- That's not-" Harry gaped, going very pale. He looked quickly to the others in the room as if hoping to confirm it from them. Steve never turned but whatever he seen on their faces must have been enough as he returned to gaping at Steve. "You're-" Harry trailed off.
"I'm your father." Steve responded with a nod. He ignored Howard's son as the man whispered something about a star war.
Steve couldn't take his eyes off Harry watching every emotion fly through his boy's eyes. Kept watching with growing sadness as slowly those emotions were locked behind a soldier's gaze.
Harry stood to his feet slowly, mechanically. He turned his once again steely gaze away from Steve to look at Fury.
"We need to figure out how I got here and how I'm getting back." Harry ordered, sounding determined.
Steve could see the others sending him concerned looks. Maybe they thought he'd be hurt by Harry's apparent dismissal of him? Maybe he really would have been if Steve didn't know the truth of it.
Harry was distancing himself from the emotional trauma. He couldn't think with it consuming him so instead he compartmentalized the whole thing in order to operate. Steve knew countless soldiers who'd used the same technique. Among them Bucky and even Steve on occasion. Sometimes you needed to shelve what you were feeling to get the job done.
"And we will. But right now, we have our own immediate situation to resolve." Fury responded getting to his feet. Harry opened his mouth to protest but already Fury had turned away from him.
"I'm going to welcome our newest guest. All of you remain here." He ordered before beginning to walk away. "And someone get Cap Junior a damn shirt!" Was his parting shot as he left.
A/N: So, another chapter not 24-hours after the first... please, don't get used to it.
Anyway, enjoy. Let me know what you thought with a comment!
