A/N - Here we go! The Destroyer Scene coming soon


Previously:

Bella sat huddled against a large rock, sand and grit in her hair, watching the camp for any indication that Hermione had been spotted. So far, there was nothing, and the adrenaline rush and subsequent crash she had after their brief battle had faded; frankly, she was a bit bored and desperately wanted a shower. When she mentioned that to Harry, he quietly laughed, telling her she might be more cut out for secret missions than he had first thought if she could admit to how boring they could sometimes be.

More time passed, and she whisper-asked Harry how long he thought Hermione would be. He grumbled a reply that was not heartening: "knowing Hermione as I do, if there is anything interesting there, she might be quite a while..."

Harry, meanwhile, scanned the camp with his omnioculars. Despite his quip, he was also getting impatient; he knew the longer Hermione took, the higher the chances she would get detected. He just hoped she wasn't fool enough to actually descend into the building: he really didn't want to have to bust her out if they somehow caught her. The Minister would have his hide, if that happened.

A few more minutes passed by, when a group of men caught his attention. They stepped out from one of the doors of the long, twisting corridors that led to the central enclosure and moved towards an old beige van that they had watched drive in about twenty minutes ago.

Harry zeroed in the omnioculars on the group, and suddenly sat straighter: he recognized the man being escorted out, the brawny blonde guy who fought his way through the camp and tried to lift the hammer the night Harry snuck in.

An older, balding man in civilian dress had a grip on the blonde's upper arm, and led him to the van. Phil Coulson - who Harry recognized immediately - stepped out of the complex's door, and chatted very briefly with the civilian. A minute later, the van and its occupants drove off, dust following them as they vanished up the road into the desert, leaving a thoughtful Harry who watched them go.

Right on their trail, Harry thought he spotted a disturbance in the air. Sure enough, a few seconds later, Hermione whispered to them. "Okay, let's go. I got a lot of scans done. There's no more I can do."

They flew off, and soon vanished with a soft pop.

They had a lot of data to decode. There was trouble coming; they knew it in their gut.


London, 4 days later.

After a long day of work at the ministry, Harry popped down to Hermione's office to discuss her findings from the Puente Antiguo mission. Harry had been incredibly busy since he got back, and knew Hermione was far more suited to researching than he was anyway.

Nodding at several people who greeted him on the lifts down, he knocked twice on her door before walking into her office, where he saw her sitting tiredly at her desk, speaking quietly to an auto-dictation quill.

Glancing briefly at Harry, she sighed before saying "Transcribe, Stop." She gestured for Harry to sit, and he plopped into one of her comfy office chairs, letting out his own sigh.

Hermione raised an eyebrow. "Long day, Harry? I didn't hear of anything exciting happening today. You've got no excuses to look so tired." She fought a smile.

Harry chuckled, rubbing his eyes. "Paperwork and more paperwork. The bane of my existence right now."

Shaking her head, Hermione opened a drawer, and pulled out a tall bottle with a faded Ogden's label on it. She took out two tumblers and filled one to the brim and the other just a small splash.

Pushing the full tumbler to Harry who just raised an eyebrow at her, he picked it up, lifting it to his lips in gratitude. "Thank you, Hermione. You are, as you know, simply the best friend a guy could ever have."

"Mm, yes I know," she agreed with a smirk. They downed their drinks and sat in comfortable silence for a few minutes. Finally, Harry got around to the reason for his visit. "So, tell me about the Hammer and whatever else you've undoubtedly figured out by now."

Hermione nodded, carelessly waving her wand to erect silencing barriers, and then reaching for a small, plain wooden chest near her desk. She then much more carefully used her wand to trace specific runes in the air over the chest, the last one causing a loud 'click' to resonate. Harry recognized some of the unlocking charms, but not the others: wards, presumably, but not any he knew; Hermione's warding knowledge far outstripped his own, she was almost a prodigy in the field after having trained for two years with Bill Weasley.

Harry watched as she reached into the now un-trapped and unlocked chest, pulling out a tan, manilla folder - Hermione still used a lot of Muggle conveniences - and lay it on her desk, flipping it open. Glancing at Harry, she took a breath to center herself. "Okay, I'll give you the very short, condensed version."

Harry nodded. "Perfect."

"I believe that SHIELD is correct in assuming an alien origin for the Hammer. I did a lot of research based on my readings, and the Hammer perfectly matches up to a legendary - almost mythical - artifact, that was first mentioned in a Norse compendium of magical races from the early Middle Ages. It even has a name: Mjolnir."

"Mjolnir?" Harry said slowly, pronouncing it slowly..."Mee-ohl-near?"

"Yes," answered Hermione. "The Hammer - according to the myths - is the weapon of Thor, the Asgardian God of Thunder. It also appears in Muggle literature, in the Poetic Edda, a series of Nordic poems dating from the 13th century. Mjolnir was supposedly a powerful magical weapon, able to channel lightning and grant flight, forged by a race of Dwarves using special metals and weaving enchantments during the forging, very similar to what the Goblins use for their own blades."

Harry frowned at that, thinking about everything he saw and experienced in Puente Antiguo. "God of Thunder? Asgardian?"

Hermione frowned. "Yes." And then she pulled out a few pieces of paper from the envelope and slid them over to Harry. "All the relevant notes are right there. I saved you from having to read a book on Norse legends."

Harry chuckled, and began to skim the page, getting the gist but not the details. Hermione knew him well, however, and had helped by underlining certain sections. When he got to the second page, he suddenly paused. "Thor had a brother...Loki." He let the name hang in the air for a moment, his eyes meeting hers.

When Hermione grimaced, Harry suspected they were, as usual, on the same wavelength. "You think that guy in the Desert...that he was this Loki, right?"

"Yes," she answered with a frown. "The way he was dressed, the readings I got from him, the joke he made about his brother...it all makes sense. Loki was supposedly a very powerful magic user, specializing in trickery and deception. And his illusions were unlike anything I'd ever seen. I would not even have the faintest clue how to create a simulacrum of myself, let alone dozens of them."

"He couldn't completely see through ours, though," Harry pointed out. "Remember he said you looked 'distorted' to him...". After letting Hermione think of that for a moment, he pushed on. "Maybe if we tweak or invisibility spell, we can evade his senses. Who knows how he actually detected us? It might have been a magical ability, or maybe something more mundane, like maybe he has super senses and heard our heartbeats? Our illusion spells don't mask that unless we also cast other spells with it."

Hermione frowned, thinking about what Harry just said, realizing that they couldn't form any conclusions without more data. "Maybe," she reluctantly agreed. "But still. I know you sensed him when he got close. His aura was powerful. Certainly much stronger than mine."

Harry grimaced: he remembered all right. He hadn't felt such an oppressive aura since Voldemort.

"Bella could see him though," Hermione pointed out. The pair stared at one another, both thinking the same thing: Bella was full of potential.

They sat in silence for a while, each lost in their own thoughts. Finally, he looked up at her. "Do you think...do you think there is a serious danger? Should we try and steal the weapon?"

Hermione sat back in her chair, clasping her fingers together. She had asked herself that question a hundred times: what was Loki doing out there? Was he here to cause trouble? Had he tried to steal the hammer but was unable to lift it?

And then the Hammer itself. How did it get to Earth? Was the 'conveyance' Loki mentioned the 'Bifrost' that she read about during her research?

It all seemed unbelievable to her, that they had actual Aliens here, and that their mode of transport - this 'Bifrost' - allowed them to traverse worlds?

As Harry read the rest of the document, Hermione's imagination again ran away with her. If - and she still wasn't 100% certain of her facts - if the hammer and the stranger were indeed from Asgard, what did that portend for the future? According to the magical texts she'd read, the Asgardians had been mostly friendly, aiding the Nordic peoples against a terrible enemy referred to as Ice Giants. What these giants were, however, was not clear at all. They were described as humanoid in shape, as tall as a troll, with blue skin, red eyes, and carrying clubbing and stabbing weapons.

These did not sound like any Giants Hermione had ever known. Half giants like Hagrid certainly didn't have blue skin, and full giants were much taller than trolls, close to a Dragon's height, almost 7 meters.

Could they have been aliens too?

It certainly could be possible. According to the texts, one of the 'realms' that Asgard watched over was Jotunheim, the world of the Ice Giants.

Could it all be true?

And if it was, well, that led to the bigger question: what were they doing here now? And what should Harry and Hermione do about it? Did they leave this to the Americans? Wasn't this bigger than any one country?

Harry, meanwhile, had finished his perusal of the notes, and looked up at Hermione with worried eyes, mixed with a touch of skepticism. "Do you really really believe all of this?"

Hermione's lifted her gaze to meet his, and saw he was completely serious with his question. He wasn't humoring or teasing her.

He just wanted her honest opinion.

Hermione clenched her teeth, before nodding once, sharply. "Yes, I think that the hammer is Mjolnir, and the man we met was Loki."

Harry looked away, her words - spoken and in her notes - running through his head.

Aliens? Gods?

Unbelievable.

But then again, 15 years ago he'd have said the same of Wizards and Witches and Unicorns.

Turning back to Hermione, he asked an obvious question. "And where is Thor if that's his precious hammer sitting out in the desert?"

But even as Harry asked the question, his mind immediately remembered the blonde man who fought through a dozen men to get to the Hammer. He had dismissed him because that man barely held his own in a fight against a muggle, and then utterly failed to lift the hammer. Surely, he wasn't this 'God of Thunder'? Right?

"I don't know," Hermione finally said. "What we have is mostly legends and hearsay, written by Wizards who died hundreds of years ago."

A heavy silence engulfed them, until something Loki said - he had trouble convincing himself that man was a 'God'- occurred to him. "He called us something. Seid...Seid Man, and Seid Kona. Whats that?"

Hemione's eyes swung back to him. "It's Old Norse, for 'Magic User. The 'man' is the masculine, and the 'kona' the feminine." Tapping her nails on the desk, she commented further. "Even the Norwegians haven't use those terms since the middle ages."

Harry nodded thoughtfully. "But an Asgardian who hadn't been here in hundreds of years might still use them?"

Shrugging, she pushed a strand of hair from her eyes. "I thought the same thing, Harry. We just don't know." Her voice quieted, and her expression turned pensive. "Harry, to the people of the Middle Ages...these Asgardians, with all their magic and their power and their dress - I could easily see how primitive people would mistake them for Gods, especially if they came here and saved them from the Frost Giants. Certainly the Muggles could believe that."

Harry had no reply to that. Finally, in a tired voice, he asked, "Are you still monitoring the area?"

"Specifically? No. But if those strong readings - maybe from the Bifrost? - happen again, we will know."

Harry nodded, his expression firming up. "Can you let me know if it happens again? If it does, I want to be there. I want to see what we are dealing with."

With a cautious nod, she agreed, and Harry let out a breath and stood from his seat.

"Wait, please," Hermione said, and she raised a hand, gesturing for him to sit back down.

Falling back to his seat, he look at her curiously. "What is it?"

"Harry...I think you need to alert SHIELD. They need to know what they are dealing with. This is too big to keep to ourselves." She said this with a quiet determination that Harry knew - from years of spending time with her under almost every conceivable circumstance - was a firm and resolute decision. She fully believed that he needed to let SHIELD know what they were facing.

To her immense surprise, Harry simply nodded, and grinned when he saw Hermione's shocked expression. "I'd already thought of that, Hermione; in fact, I was planning on reaching out to Nick Fury as soon as I'd spoken with you. I realized that I couldn't leave them to face Loki without having at least some idea of what kind of opposition they might encounter."

Hemione smiled at him. "That's good, Harry. I'm glad to see you are more willing to share your intel these days."

They each chuckled, thinking of the many situations where Harry chose to try and be the 'lone ranger' and not involve anyone else in their 'adventures.'

Before he stood to leave, he gave her a small smile. "Any other things you want to share?"

When she bit her bottom lip - something Bella did as well, he realized, and his thoughts went to her for a moment - he knew there was more. "Come on Hermione, out with it."

Taking a breath, Hermione nodded. "Okay, Harry. You must see that we were seriously overmatched out there when we had a three to one advantage over Loki. In fact, if not for Bella...," she trailed off, letting him imagine the worst.

Seeing his frown, Hermione continued. "Harry, I think you need to reunite the Hallows, and carry the wand if you go back there."

When Harry's eyes darkened, she hurried on, determined to make her point. "You might need them, Harry, if things go bad."

Harry's eyes were burning emeralds as he stared at Hermione, but his mind was elsewhere, reliving the events that occurred six years ago, shortly after the Final Battle.

He had tossed the Elder Wand into a deep gulley, knowing that, even if it was ever somehow found, it would never effectively work for anyone else as he was the true Master. So long as no one claimed the wand and then defeated him in a battle, it's power would be broken.

The stone was left where it dropped in the forest, and though he was tempted, he never went back for it. It was buried in mud and bush, also probably never to be found. The only item he kept was his cloak, and when it was not on his person, it was in a chest that was protected with every lock, rune, and charm Bill Weasley could cast.

During the months following the battle, Harry would often wake slick with sweat from nightmares. Ginny wasn't there to soothe him as she was back in school, and the only thing that seemed to help him relax was when he slept with the cloak near at hand.

And then, it happened: during one particularly bad dream, filled with cruel, laughing voices and the faces of dead friends, he'd woken in a cold sweat, the cloak clutched in his left hand, and in his right, was the Elder Wand. On his lap, lay the Resurrection Stone.

Surrounding him was a bright, flickering dome, with tiny arcing bolts of electricity running through it's surface, crackling with energy. It built and built, until finally, he felt an incredible surge of power, much stronger than the reaction he had gotten when he first had picked up his Holly Wand, that ran through his body, until it reached a crescendo and winked out.

Steam rose from his skin, and he felt like he'd been trampled by a Hippogriff.

He had stumbled out of bed, then, the wand falling from his hand like it was a burning iron, the stone bouncing away. He spent the rest of the night staring at the Hallows, trying to understand what had happened, and what this meant; he tried to ignore the faint call that he felt coming from the wand, like a pull, with the hint of promise and intent, a very different feeling than his Phoenix feather wand, and that left him quite frankly, terrified.

The next day, Harry had put the stone and the wand away in a chest, locked in his vault at Gringotts; he never slept with the cloak near him ever again.

Hermione was the only person that Harry had told this story to, the only person to know he once again had all three Hallows in his possession. She fully agreed that caution was warranted, and had, over the years, done research into the origins of the Hallows and the stories that later appeared in the Tales of Beetle the Bard.

Her scans and examinations of the Stone and the Wand - and the Cloak - baffled her. She could not detect what the core of the Elder Wand was, though she thought it might be a dual core wand. She thought at first the core was Thestral Hair - which would be ironic, as they could only be seen by those who have seen Death - but the readings were not an exact match
(though they were closer than any other core material that she'd measured).

The Stone, too, was baffling. It was made of a mix of rare-earth elements, some of which should have been radioactive but were not. The enchantments in the ring also seemed to resist being scanned, and many bad readings would be returned, almost like the ring's composition was fluid somehow.

And it contained power; untapped, but there, waiting to be unleashed. She just didn't know how.

Even the cloak was a mystery. Made of a mix of leather and a wool type substance - but from a creature they could not identify but was similar to the coat of a thestral - she could not detect any enchantments on it, at all. Regular invisibility cloaks - made of demiguase hair - had strengthening charms and other enchantments on them; but Harry's cloak simply did not register as having a single magical property.

It was baffling, and they were no closer to solving the mystery even after several years of study.

Shaking his head and refocusing on Hermione, Harry let out a careful breath as he considered her words, her advice, to use the Hallows.

She waited patiently, fairly certain he would agree with her conclusion that they should be handy, just in case...

A minute later, he slowly nodded his head. Hermione let herself sag back in her seat, relieved that he would have more power at his disposal if he needed it.

She didn't take note of the shiver that ran down Harry's back.

The two friends chatted for a few minutes before a rattled Harry stood to leave, with a promise that he'd talk with Nick Fury straight away, as soon as he'd retrieved the chest from Gringotts. He'd never tried to call the Hallows to him; the one time they did, he had been dreaming. He had no idea how to do so, though he had to admit he had never really tried.

But Hermione was right - he wanted them close at hand, just in case he needed them in a hurry.

The next morning, after calling Phil Coulson on the phone number he'd been given at their last meeting, a time was set for the following afternoon for Harry to meet with Director Fury.

Smiling now, he sent a quick text to Bella and asked if she was free for a late lunch the next day. He told her he'd be in town to discuss their 'New Mexico' business with Fury, knowing she'd understand.

A few seconds later, his phone pinged with an incoming text, from Bella. 'I'd love to! Just tell me where and when, I'm free all afternoon!'

Feeling better now, all the Aurors remarked how happy he seemed that day.


The following day, Harry arrived at the Triskelion after the familiar portkey trip to the MACUSA entry point, followed by a long and frustrating cab ride through the frustratingly slow DC traffic. The trip took almost twice as long as it should have, and Harry grumbled for most of it.

He decided, during a particular bad moment - where at least ten cars were blaring their horns as they tried to maneuver past some road construction - that he needed a better method to getting to the Triskelion. With all his popping back and forth, he should really find a safe place to apparate to that was near the building; if he had somewhere safe and concealed to go to, he could have apparated straight over once he arrived at the MACUSA Portkey station, and he wouldn't need to deal with the uncomfortable and slow taxi's anymore.

He'd scope out locations later.

Leaving the driver a healthy tip - it wasn't his fault that the traffic was so bad - he walked up to the impressive glass building, quirking his lips when he saw Agent Romanoff, who was waiting at the entryway.

Harry stepped up to her, extending his hand in greeting. She wasn't wearing her customary leathers; instead, she was dressed in a form-fitting SHIELD uniform like Maria Hill had worn the last time he was here. "Agent Romanoff, are you the greeting committee today?"

Her lips twitched. "Hello, Mr. Potter," she answered as she shook his hand firmly, her voice as deep and throaty - and sensual, if he was being honest - as he remembered. "I didn't think you'd be visiting us again so soon."

Harry walked with her through the security checks, smirking. "Well, you know, I think Fury missed me, and I wouldn't want to cause him to get all grouchy. He already is a bit too deep in the whole pirate motif, you know?"

Romanoff chuckled. "Yes, we wouldn't want that, would we. And I think he is grouchy enough already. He hates complications."

The pair walked in silence for a while, Harry's eyes wandering over the various offices and personnel walking to and fro. He quickly realized they were not going the same way as last time, and he looked on in interest at the training areas, data processing centers, and different control areas that they passed.

Harry's inspection was interrupted by Romanoff. "Is Ms. Swan joining us later today?"

Harry glanced at her in surprise. "You don't know why I'm here?" he asked curiously.

She gave him a ghost of a smile, just a quick upturn of her lips. "Mr. Potter, you will learn that Director Fury keeps all his cards very close to his chest. All I was told was to pick you up at the main entrance and escort you to him."

Harry nodded. "Well, I suspect you will know before long, anyway. You seem to be pretty highly ranked, after all. I don't imagine too many Agents are privy to the things we discussed at our last meeting."

Smirking at him, the beautiful redhead pressed a series of numbers on a keypad, and a sliding door opened to a small conference room, where Director Fury and his deputy Maria Hill waited. "If I didn't know better, I'd think you were fishing, Mr. Potter." She gestured for him to enter the room, and when he did, she winked at him. "Have a good day." And then she turned and walked away without a backwards glance.

Harry and the Shield agents exchanged a few pleasantries, and then Phil Coulson was patched through on the conference phone. Over the next fifteen minutes, Harry revealed the reason for his visit, watching the Director's expression turn grimmer as he discussed with them the results of Hermione's conclusions. He passed over copies of her notes, and then meticulously recounted the details of their encounter with Loki in the desert, and the ramifications of his capabilities.

When he finally finished, Harry leaned back in his chair with his hands folded on the table. He waited as Fury absorbed his words, the tight expression on the Director's face clearly highlighting his concern, while the previously unflappable Maria Hill looked lost in thought, a line of sweat on her brow.

Fury finally broke the tense silence. "Coulson, as of right now, this is a Code Red Alpha Two Two. Repeat, Code Red, Alpha Two Two."

Phil Coulson's tinny voice could be heard through the speaker. "Understood Director."

Taking a slow breath, Fury again lapsed into silence, his mind racing as he thought of everything he'd been told. Finally, he turned to Harry. "Thank you, Mr. Potter. Disturbing as your news is, this is crucial information, and could be very valuable to us."

Harry nodded. "Your'e welcome, Director. My friend, Hermione Granger, thought you should know what you are dealing with. I agreed with her."

Fury gave Harry a curious look. "Something confuses me, though, Mr. Potter. Why didn't you go to MACUSA with this? It certainly seems like this 'Loki' using magic would fall at least partially under their remit?"

Harry looked pensive for a moment. "Well, a couple of reasons, really. I think, primarily, this is much bigger than MACUSA can handle. SHIELD's remit seems more appropriate here."

And then Harry's lips quirked, his eyes flickering to the phone speaker where Phil was listening. "Also, I think we are all very familiar with jurisdictional pissing matches. They can be very tiring. Right Phil?"

A tinny chuckle from Coulson reached their ears as the Agent remembered his first meeting with Mr. Potter in London. "That's right, Harry."

Harry noted that Hill's lips twitched, and Fury even looked like he might smile. "Indeed," the Director finally said. He leaned forward, folding his arms on the table. "But you see that leaves us in a bit of a bind, Mr. Potter. I think that, without cover from SHIELD, sooner or later someone from the Magical Congress is going to get very upset with you coming and going as you please. I'm actually surprised that they haven't sent an inquiry already. You must be extraordinarily good at going places your are not supposed to be."

The Director's voice had risen a bit at the end; clearly he could not be happy that Harry had snuck into his SHIELD base without being detected. Undoubtedly base security would be ramped up.

Harry smiled, however, appreciating and understanding that Fury really wanted to recruit him and was setting the stage for it. Nodding, he said, "Go on."

Agent Hill smoothly took over, pushing a thin folder towards Harry. "In there are documents that contain the details for you to work as a consultant for SHIELD. Read it over, I am sure you will find it very agreeable and flexible."

"Give me the highlights," Harry said as he flipped it open.

Hill fought a grin. "In summary, it essentially boils down to us giving you political cover, and only calling on you if your particular brand of expertise is needed and MACUSA personnel would not be suitable. And, of course, if you are willing to help."

Harry briefly scanned the cover document. It looked like a standard consulting agreement, filled with legalese that defined pretty much what Hill just said, pay schedules, and other relevant info. There was a red highlighted section called 'Terms of Engagement' that he would look at more carefully later.

Flipping through the other pages, his eyes caught on one that said 'Avengers Initiative' that had several other names on it in bold - of which he immediately recognized Agents Barton and Romanoff, as well as Tony Stark. Lower down were another dozen names under the header 'Evaluating', which, to his dismay, had Isabella Swan listed in the third spot.

He would think more on that later.

Closing the file, he nodded to Hill. This appeared to be exactly what he needed, giving him the political cover for anything he might do, both here and abroad.

And just as important, he thought with a smile, it gave him a nice excuse to visit Bella more frequently, given that SHIELD's HQ was not too far from her apartment.

A win-win. This would work out nicely indeed.

As he flipped it closed, he realized Hermione would need one of these as well, in the event he needed her expertise. "My friend Hermione Granger - I need you to get her some paperwork and SHIELD cover for her as well. Maybe put her down as a 'researcher.' No one is better at solving mysteries than Hermione."

When Harry heard Maria Hill sigh, he raised his eyes, only to see Fury smirk. "I expected you to request that, Mr. Potter."

Hill pushed another folder towards Harry. "Similar terms as yourself, of course. We would be delighted to have you and Ms. Granger working with us. If you could please forward the documents to her, we'd be most appreciative."

They spoke about logistics for a few more minutes, with Harry asking a few relevant questions. When their business seemed to be concluded, Harry suddenly asked them to wait a moment, a determined glint in his eyes. "Since that went so well, I would like to ask SHIELD for two things."

Harry had to admit, Fury had an excellent poker face; his expression didn't change as he stared back with his one eye, which never seemed to blink. "What two things, Mr. Potter?"

Taking a breath - he was unsure if this was the right thing to do - Harry leaned forward, looking more serious than he had all afternoon. "First, I'm going to be talking with Isabella Swan today. Assuming she agrees, I want you to draw up a contract for her, with certain caveats in her 'Engagement' clause."

Hill glanced over at Fury and then back to Harry. "What caveat?" she asked warily.

Turning to face her, his eyes were steady and bright, his voice was firm, to leave no room for misunderstanding. "The caveat is that, until further notice, she won't ever be assigned a mission, or to any team, that I'm not on personally or have authorized her to join. No exceptions to that, at least for now."

When Hill opened her mouth to object, Harry cut her off. "Her magical abilities are largely dependent - at least for now - on another magical being nearby to give her extra 'juice.' We don't know why, so don't bother asking. And Bella has almost no practical experience, and is just learning about her magic."

"Then why are you even asking for this contract for her? You seem to agree she's clearly not ready?" Hill asked, incredulous.

Tightening his hands reflexively, Harry admitted something to them that he had not wanted to. "On two separate occasions, Bella has demonstrated a unique magical ability that has, quite literally, saved my arse. It seems to be unique to her, but it's raw and she doesn't have full control yet."

He let them digest that before continuing. "Also, as I said, she also seems to somehow draw some of her power from other magic users. Putting her in a situation without another powerful Wizard nearby could be a recipe for disaster."

Making sure they understood, he looked each one in the eye. "So, basically," he summarized, "until we can either figure out a way to replicate this ability - which is very doubtful - or get her fully trained up, then Bella needs to be assigned to my jurisdiction."

Fury looked at Hill for a long moment, and Harry thought they might refuse. Finally though, Fury turned his eyes back to Harry. "Before we agree to your conditions for Ms. Swan becoming an Agent, what is your second caveat?"

"Simple. I want her to get some training from SHIELD. Physical training, stamina, basic self defense, learning to use weapons, escape and evasion, things like that. She is terribly deficient in those areas, and if she insists on putting herself in harms way then I need her better prepared. I would do it myself, but I expect that is much more your area of expertise than mine. When she gets to a certain level, I'll teach her magical combat myself."

Hill and Fury again exchanged glances. Hill finally leaned forward, still doubtful about the whole thing, despite them considering Bella for evaluation a few years from now. "You do realize she is a full time college student? And she's not even 21 yet?"

"Yes, I am aware of both of those things," he chuckled. "But I've spoken briefly to her about this, and it was her idea, actually. She says she could spare up to a dozen hours plus a Saturday or Sunday every week."

"That's not a very vigorous schedule for a SHIELD Agent trainee," Hill objected. Typically, trainee's spent thirty hours a week or more in training.

"Well, if you factor that she's also doing four to six hours of magical training every week, it's still a far cry better than nothing," Harry replied. "And come summertime, since you seem to agree she needs more training than that, you will 'hire' her as an intern - paid, of course - and really get her working. By then, she'll have had some eight months of working with you on her light training schedule, and should be ready for the harder stuff."

Hill frowned at the easy way Potter just conned her into hiring Swan as a paid summer intern - she wasn't sure if SHIELD even had internship programs - and was upset that Fury seemed to be enjoying watching her squirm. She imagined that Coulson was laughing too.

Trying one more objection - more on principle at this point, as she knew from his expression and his silence that Fury would agree to almost anything to get Potter on board - she tilted her head and tried to be taunting. "Aren't you worried about sending your new female love interest into the field?"

The somewhat friendly negotiating smirk slid from Harry's face. "Of course I'm worried. That's why I'm looking to make sure my girlfriend has the training and the legal backing to do whatever she has to do to protect herself. Bella will certainly need this if she is going to be spending a lot of time with me; you've seen my file, I tend to attract dangerous people; and from what I've seen, she unfortunately tends to do the same. She has had dangerous enemies before, and will probably again. For Merlin's sake, she lived through a vampire attack, and somehow managed to survive a deranged vampire who created an army to get to her when she was just 18!"

Harry took a calming breath as he felt his magic stirring, and noted the suddenly alert postures of Fury and Hill. Letting his occlumency work to soothe his emotions, he spoke in a quieter voice. "This Loki character took an interest in her, moreso than either Hermione or myself. I don't know why, but I'm not comfortable with that, in the least."

When Harry finished, Fury sat back, drumming his fingers on the table, considering everything he'd heard, gathering his thoughts. Finally, he spoke. "While I certainly recognize Ms. Swan's value as one day being a potential SHIELD asset, I am, like Deputy Hill, concerned about her age and training. The girl is just 20 years old - that's about 3 years younger than we usually ever recruit - and has no field experience save for an admittedly large number of life threatening situations she's been in. Typically, if we recruit someone that young - with very, very few exceptions - they will have had three or four years of simulation and field training, and then spend another year or two shadowing other agents or serving as backup, before ever being put in at the deep end."

Harry grimaced. "I understand that, which is one of the reasons I said she will only go out on missions with me. I have equipped her with a magical means of escape from dangerous situations, and will do my best to leave her back at base if I can." He shook his head, and spoke in a softer voice. "Trust me, I don't want her anywhere close when the shooting starts."

Harry let his mind wander, clearly remembering the discussion he and Bella had after returning from the fight with Loki. Bella had seemed very preoccupied and fidgety, and Harry thought that she might be experiencing typical post-battle stress, a syndrome he was very familiar with when adrenaline left your system and you realize you came awfully close to dying.

Harry had been nervous, fearful that Bella might not be able to deal with his dangerous occupation. And even though she had begged to accompany him to Puente Antiguo, Harry still felt terribly guilty about the danger she had faced.

He knew this was a deep-seated personality trait of his, which was unhealthy and destructive: taking responsibility for other people's actions. Unfortunately, this was so ingrained in him from an early age, that both Hermione and the Mind Healers he'd seen after the war didn't think he'd ever be able to move past it, at least where it concerned people he cared about.

So as he and Bella had sat there after their return from the desert, he had timidly asked her what was bothering her, holding himself in check against the possibility of her telling him it was all too much for her.

To his amazement, however, he was completely wrong about what was bothering her. Instead of her wanting out, she wanted to learn; to be able to fight by his side, to be able to always watch his back.

He remembered his eyes feeling moist, and he had taken her face in his hands, giving her the most loving kiss he was able to, trying to tell her with his lips and tears what he had not yet put into words.

Bella had returned the emotion; she'd grabbed his hair, pulling him closer, suffering no space between them; she was affirming that they were together, safe, and that she wasn't going anywhere.

When he got back to London that night, he remembered laying down in bed and feeling better than he had in years, his thoughts dominated by his beautiful and lovely brown eyed girl. Despite knowing her for only a little over a month, he had very strong feelings for Bella, and the urge to protect her from any and all dangers was already very strong. He had not felt like this about anyone since Ginny, and if he took the time to really examine his emotions he would probably realize he was well on the way to falling in love with her; or perhaps he was already there.

He had shaken his head, amazed at it all; Bella had come stumbling into his life at a time when he wasn't in any way, shape or form looking for a relationship, relatively happy with his bachelor lifestyle and going on occasional dates but never letting anything get serious. He suspected most of the women he dated were either blinded by his fame and wealth or had heavily pre-conceived notions about him that were frankly too tiring to deal with: it was often exhausting trying to live with their expectations of him.

Thankfully, Bella knew and cared little of The Boy Who Lived or The Man Who Conquered or any other silly names that had been slung at him over the years. She could not care less about his titles and wealth. She judged him only for who he was now, and not what he might have done in the past. It was honest, and refreshing, and frankly quite delightful, and filled him with hope for the future.

Hermione had been right, as usual: Harry's happiness, and his first real relationship since Ginny, had been found outside of the rather tight and isolated confines of the Wizarding World. It amazed him sometimes at how well he and Bella just clicked, and Hermione had been pleased and overjoyed for Harry, and was thoroughly approving of Bella as a person and as a companion for Harry.

Emerging from his woolgathering he looked directly at Fury. "I am not saying that I will need her with me on every mission; in fact, I'd prefer if I never needed her in the field at all. And if I ever do, I hope it's years away. But, just in case, I need her prepared so she can properly protect herself."

Fury's single eye stared at Harry's, neither man blinking for several seconds, before Fury nodded. "Okay. I had expected Phil would approach Ms. Swan directly at some point, though we had planned on waiting until her 22nd birthday, a year before she graduates from school, to give her time to think on it. But I will have him draw up the contracts and details, and he can schedule a meeting with her if she has questions."

Harry nodded. "Thank you, Director Fury. I will get these back to you after Hermione has looked them over, and will pick up Bella's documents at that time." He stood, and nodded to them. "Now, if you will excuse me, I have a lunch date to get to."

Two hours later, Harry and Bella were sitting at a local pub, holding hands under the table as they digested their lunch. Harry had given Bella a brief synopsis of what Hermione had found during her analysis from New Mexico, which had naturally spooked her; but, as he was coming to learn, it did not dissuade her. If anything, he saw determination on her face.

When he told Bella about SHIELD and the contracts, she was thrilled.

"Harry, that's great!" she gushed. "I really could use all the help I can get. I'm still uncoordinated, and I would love to have self defense lessons and maybe endurance training. I try and go jogging with a friend twice a week, but am so tired out afterwards."

They finished their lunch and chatted for a little longer, but Bella had an evening class and Harry had some work to finish. They parted with a sweet kiss and plans to meet the following weekend, when Harry would be back in DC and would spend the night.

Apparating home, Harry kicked off his shoes, relaxed for a few hours, and went to bed.

The next day he was in a great mood, and when he got home from work he called Bella on the mirror, looking forward to chatting quietly with his girlfriend.

Fate, however, had other plans.


Far away, in the Realm Eternal, Loki fumed as he marched back to the palace. He had recently discovered that Sif and The Warriors Three had disobeyed his direct orders to leave his brother Thor in exile; and, aided by Heimdall, had taken the Bifrost to Midgard to retrieve him.

Loki could not afford his brother returning, even in his weakened state. So, with Odin's staff in his hand, and command authority over the magical defenses of Asgard, Loki directed the five-ton engine of destruction known as The Destroyer to track them all down and kill them, along with anyone who got in the way.


New Mexican Desert, 3 Miles outside of Puente Antiguo

Phil Coulson watched as a tall dust plume - almost as tall as a tornado funnel - began to swirl directly above the strangely carved symbols they'd found on the flat desert sand. The engineers had told him the sand had been baked as if a high pressure oven had broiled it. The symbols were actually melted and discolored grains, not paint, as he'd originally thought.

Needless to say, they had no idea how that happened, but knew that if they had to individually burn sand grains to form the symbols they saw, it would take weeks, perhaps months, to do so.

The dust plume grew thicker, and one of Phil's agents walked up behind him, shielding his eyes from the dust. It began to swirl faster, and there were brief flashes of lightning coming from the center.

Phil took out his phone, and sent a quick message to Director Fury. Right before he put his phone away, he hesitated a moment and sent a second message, directly to Harry Potter.


A/N-Let me know what you think! I've had a couple of people PM that they want the pace picked up, which I can certainly do. I think the detail is nice, but I could certainly switch to more action-mode and cut down on the character scenes.