A/N:
I know I said I'd update in the weekend but I'd already had this chapter written. Also I've edited/fixed Chapter One and I thought it'd be mean if I updated but only with the resubmission of the previous and no new one. So here's Chapter Two, hope there's no mistakes but if there is PLEASE TELL ME and I hope you enjoy.
Chapter Two
As soon as they landed, armed guards flanked Loki and escorted him away while another squad of guards swarmed Harry and marched him off. Harry followed without complaint.
"I don't suppose any of you know what MI6 is?" Harry asked randomly, turning left down yet another identical metal corridor. None of them replied.
"MI6? I assume it's some kind of agency, but why'd Fury think I was with them?" No reply.
"Do you normally detain MI6 people?" No reply.
"What does MI6 even stand for? Mm-e-ow. Wait no that doesn't sound right. Mm- me- my- ma- mi- maraca? No, `milk? No, macadamia? Mill? Moo? Macho? Mother? Magnet? Moon? Mouse?"
"For the love of God SHUT UP!" One of the guards snapped. Harry closed his mouth with a click and they turned left, right, left, left, forward, left. Harry mentally catalogued the path back to the deck. He stopped suddenly and exclaimed, "I got it! Muggle! Muggle Intelligence Six!" His smile faded to a frown, ignoring the guns that had appeared when he'd made sudden movements. "Wait, why is it six? Why not five or four or seven? Do they have a thing for the number six? What abo-?"
"The cloak, ring and stick wherever you're hiding it." One of them interrupted. Harry held his tongue and slipped the ring off his finger and dropped it into the awaiting palm of a guard. He pretended to get the wand out of his back pocket while summoning it and also handed that over.
"And the cloak."
"But it's cold." Harry whined.
"The cloak!" Harry sighed loudly and for longer than necessary while presenting the cloak to the guard. The guard tentatively took it and Harry hid his smirk. Next thing he was pushed back and into a room, the door closing immediately behind him. He huffed at the door and commented, "Well that was bloody rude." Spinning around he took in his surroundings. Silver room, metal bed with a reasonable white mattress and white sheet. Toilet in a corner with a sink and clear mirror. Harry shook his head, "Still bigger than at the Dursley's," muttered under his breath. He strolled around the small compartment for a while, inspecting everything but doing a double-take at the mirror. What stared back at him was a stranger. His hair was darker, instead of reflecting the light it seemed to absorb. His skin was paler than he remembered, porcelain white and flawless. His eyes seemed larger and rounder. The colour more vivid if that were even possible. Shadows hinted under his eyes, making them stand out even more. All in all, his whole appearance seemed ethereal and inhuman. No wonder Fury didn't trust him. As an afterthought Harry flattened his hair away from his forehead, the scar was still there, even paler than the rest of his skin. It seemed to be the only thing about him that hadn't changed. Sighing, he pushed off the sink and flopped onto the only slightly uncomfortable bed. To sleep or not to sleep? Did he even need rest? Or was he awake 24/7 with no sign of exhaustion whatsoever? Harry covered his face with his hands and dragged them down to his chin. Why did his life have to be so complicated? He closed his eyes and rested his head on the cool metal wall, an even colder hand pressed against his shoulder in comfort. Opening his eyes revealed the now familiar sight of Death.
Magister.
Harry blinked and looked around. Everything around them seemed muted, the colours, smells, sounds. Almost as though he were looking in a pensieve.
"I don't think you should be here."
You need not fear Magister, I have cloaked the room.
"Er, "cloaked"?"
I am not seen, nor are you heard Magister.
Harry visibly relaxed and asked, "Should you be here though? They have these scan things that can detect everything and anything. They might-"
Be not anxious Magister, nothing can detect Death.
Harry snorted, "Mrs Norris did, so did Mad-Eye Moody if I'm not mistaken."
The Invisibility Cloak had no Master, it resisted to show its true potential, Magister.
"Huh, so what about now?"
You are Magister de morte, Master of the Hallows and of Death.
"Well, that answers that question." Harry replied rolling his eyes at his own stupidity.
"What the Hell is going on?" Fury demanded, glaring at the computer screen.
"Unknown sir," Hill answered, "There seems to be something blocking the scanners."
"Well get them unblocked." Fury snapped, observing the video feed with frustration. Natasha had informed him that the kid's name was Harry Potter, and as far as she could tell – which was always correct – he was telling the truth. Yet after ten minutes of all servers being scoured for any information on one "Harry Potter", nothing has been found, no shadowy organizations, no breadcrumbs, no whispers, no NOTHING. Now, watching the security cameras on Harry Potter's cell has led Fury to boiling point. When the kid had finally sat on the bed after inspecting himself in the mirror – something Fury noted quite interestedly – everything went quiet. No sounds were being recorded, not even the rustling of sheets or breathing. Nothing was being reported back by the scanners, no movements or changes in the air. The only that was supplying anything useful were the visual feeds. All of which showed a very disturbing picture: Young Harry Potter had changed, the skin under his eyes and cheekbones had darkened considerably, making him look ghostly and definitely not human. The eyes behind dorky round glasses glowed, literally fucking glowed. His whole stature grew, now tall and lanky but muscle was easily seen from the V in his sweatshirt. Harry Potter did not look like he belonged in the land of the living. He was speaking. What? No one was able to identify, something that was very nearly killing Fury.
"What damn language is he speaking?" Fury growled.
"Latin? But, I can't speak Latin." Harry grumbled. "Or is it like how I can speak Parseltongue?"
It is similar, yes, Magister.
"I asked you not to call me that. My name is Harry."
Yet you are my Magister.
"I know, you don't have to go reminding me every second by calling me "Master" though."
Apologies Magister.
Harry smacked his head, "Why do I even bother?" He quickly gave Death a look so he wouldn't actually answer that. Harry stood up and walked to the door, looking out the reinforced porthole.
May I inquire as to what you are doing Magister?
"Looking." Was his annoyed reply. He glanced at the mirror and gaped. "Why in Merlin's name am I looking like this for? And why are my eyes glowing?"
Your power and status of Magister de Morte may alter your appearance when used, Magister.
"Great," he glared at his appearance and a thought surfaced to the front of his mind, "Wait, why do I still need glasses?"
It was thought that keeping something from your mortal life would help with the transition, Magister.
"Well the transition is all finished and honestly? I never liked having to wear glasses, they were- are, a hindrance and disadvantage in a fight." Death bowed its head.
Do you wish for me to heal you Magister?
"Yes." Harry responded instantly. A part of his mind would miss his glasses, they really are the only thing that connected him with his old life. His scar was a silent message of how he escaped death, but his glasses were a reminder of his mortality. Yet they had no part in his role as Master of Death.
"Yes," he repeated and Death glided closer, its skeletal hand outstretched. He lifted his glasses and Death's fingers brushed his closed eyes. A pleasant burning sensation tickled behind his eyes and when Harry opened his eyes he could see. Every tiny little detail, the almost imperceptible shadow casted between ruffled sheets, the smallest dent in a wall, the dust particles hovering in the air.
"I think you went over the top." He commented, a smile curling his lips as he looked at Death.
Perhaps Magister.
Harry quirked an eyebrow, who knew Death had a sense of humour? He glanced back at the mirror and spied something beneath his sweatshirt. Pulling the collar down, he exhaled and looked pointedly at Death.
Mark of Magister de Morte.
Harry gazed at the 'mark'. It was the Hallows, triangle, circle, and line. The size of his fist and planted on his left pectoral, directly over his heart.
Touch the mark if you seek my guidance, Magister.
"Yeah, that'll be all the time." Harry muttered, looking at the scar.
No one must touch the mark Magister.
"Why?" Harry gave up his inspection to look at Death. Instead of answering, Death disappeared and the door opened to reveal a furious Fury. Harry snorted, Furious Fury!
"What the Hell are you laughing about?" Fury – chuckle – demanded.
"Don't worry." Harry said, trying to stop smiling but failing miserably. Fury's lips pressed into a thin line and Harry saw him forcibly relax his body.
"Tell me Harry Potter," said person cringed at the use of his full name, "According to our data. You. Don't. Exist."
"Well, that's" - because I don't - "A bit harsh."
"Then why don't you tell me where you come from, so then it won't be "a bit harsh"."
"That is classified." Harry stated disinterestedly, glancing in the mirror to discover he no longer resembled an Inferi.
"Who tells you that it's classified?" Fury demanded.
"Me." Harry held Fury's gaze, thinking back to the times when he'd been too scared to meet Snape's, and realising just how very long ago that was.
"Then give me something to work with."
"Why?"
"Because I have the stupidest feeling that I can trust you." He admitted. Harry eyed him and sat back on the bed.
"Oh? And why is that?" Harry leaned against the wall with his hands behind his head and legs crossed, "Because something tells me you're not the trusting type."
"How very perceptive of you." Fury scowled when their staring contest continued, neither of them backing down.
"Tell me Director Fury," Harry leaned forward, his elbows resting on his knees and chin resting on his linked fingers, "What makes you think you can trust me?"
Unnaturally green eyes bored into Fury's one good brown, seeking out his secrets and regrets. Harry Potter, despite his unearthly appearance still looked like a kid. Yet Fury has had a long career, one that has proven over and over again that age was nothing to some individuals, and the individual in front of him? His eyes held an age he hadn't even seen in Thor's or Loki's. An age and wisdom that made him weak in the knees and fluttery in the stomach. Something that told him he was less than a minuscule speck of universal dust, and that Harry Potter was more than all the nine realms. Fury took a step forward ignoring the feeling in him telling him to kneel and said, "You want to why?" Potter nodded his eyes still not straying from Fury's own.
"It's because I don't think, I can trust you. I know I can trust you Mr Potter." Fury was going out on a whim, the memory of their earlier interview lending him some tactic.
"Mr Potter? My name's Harry, I haven't been called Mr Potter since school." Harry said with distaste. Fury filed away the titbit, noting how he never mentioned a 'father' reference.
"Will you help us Harry?" Said man rolled his eyes and replied, "I've already told you Fury, I'm all about saving people," and stuck his hand out. Fury finally broke eye contact and firmly shook Harry's hand. He's going to have to keep his eye on this one, but if it's between ally or enemy? Fury's going to have to take ally every time with this kid. There was just something in the way Harry held himself, similar to Loki's arrogance yet entirely different. A superiority that had nothing to do with belief and everything to do with fact. Harry Potter was one Hell of an important character everywhere he went and Fury was less than pleased to admit that he had to play his cards right around this one. Mentally shaking himself out of his reverie Fury tightened his grip and with a less than enthusiastic voice said, "Welcome to the team." Harry snorted and started to pull his hand away but Fury held it in place and turned it slightly so he could see the top of Harry's hand. Faint scars caught his eyes and Harry snatched his hand back, but not before Fury had read them, I must not tell lies. Fury snapped his eyes up, just in time to see a flash of paler skin hide behind raven black hair. Fury whipped out his hand and shoved Harry's hair away from his forehead to reveal a perfect lightning bolt scar. Harry slipped out from under Fury's grasp and Fury pivoted to keep him in sight. His right hand was behind his back and his left hand was smoothing his hair back over the scar. A scowl marred his features and he snapped, "Why are you so bloody nosy?" And just like that, Fury saw a kid again. A kid abused and taught to hide his bruises.
"What happened to you Harry?" Fury demanded. Harry's jaw hardened and his eyes blazed.
"None of your bloody business." Before Fury could respond, Hill ran into the room, "Mr Stark's hacked into S.H.I.E.L.D databases."
"Thank you agent Hill, Harry come with me please." And with that he marched out of the cell and in the direction of Stark and Dr Banner's lab. Leaving a perplexed Hill and hesitant Harry.
"I'm guessing he doesn't usually say "please" and "thank you"." Harry observed. Hill quickly regained her composure and after telling him to follow Fury, left. Harry shrugged and did as he was told, still flattening his hair over his forehead. Summoning the Elder Wand when he got lost, Harry quickly cast a point-me charm before striding through sliding double doors and entering an extremely technologically advanced laboratory.
"Harry!" Stark exclaimed before returning to his screen and asking, "What is Phase Two?" A bang brought everyone's attention to Rogers dropping a very large gun-looking thing on a metal table.
"Phase Two is S.H.I.E.L.D uses the cube to make weapons. Sorry, computer was moving a little slow for me." He directed the last part directly at Stark.
"Rogers, we gathered everything related to the Tesseract, this does not mean that-"
"I'm sorry Nick, what were you lying?" Stark questioned, turning his screen for everyone to see.
"I was wrong Director," Rogers admitted, "The world hasn't changed a bit."
"Did you know about this?" Dr Banner inquired to Romanov as she entered with Thor.
"You want to think about removing yourself from this environment Doctor?" Romanov returned. Dr Banner laughed without humour.
"I was in Calcutta, I was pretty well removed."
"Loki's manipulating you."
"And you've been doing what exactly?"
'You didn't come here because I bat my eyelashes at you."
"Yes, and I'm not leaving because suddenly you get a little twitchy. I'd like to know, why S.H.I.E.L.D is using the Tesseract to build weapons of mass destruction." Everyone turned their gaze to Fury, waiting for an answer. Fury's gaze caught Harry's. Harry had the strangest feeling that he was asking him for guidance and so he nodded. Fury pointed at Thor and explained, "Because of him."
"Me?" Thor looked genuinely surprised.
"Last year, Earth had a visitor from another planet, who had a grudge match that levelled a small town. We not only learned that we are not alone. But we are hopelessly, hilariously, outgunned."
"My people want nothing but peace with your planet."
"But you're not the only people out there are you?" Fury challenged, "And you're not the only threat. The world's filling up with people who can't be matched. They can't be controlled."
"Like you controlled the cube?" Rogers asked.
"You're work with the Tesseract is what drew Loki to it, and his allies." Thor pointed out. "It is a signal to all the realms that Earth is ready for a higher form of war."
"A higher form?" Rogers voiced.
"You forced our hand," Fury defended, "We had to come up with something-"
"A nuclear deterrent." Stark supplied, "'Cause that always calms everything right down."
"Remind me again how you made your fortune Stark?" Fury noted.
"I'm sure if Stark still made weapons he'd be neck deep-"
"Wait, wait, hold on, how is this now about me?"
"I'm sorry, isn't everything?" Rogers retorted.
"I thought humans were more evolved than this." Thor said.
"Excuse me, do we come to your planet and blow stuff up?" Fury demanded. While everyone bickered, Harry's attention was drawn to the sceptre, it was making a keening noise and the orb was more active than when he'd last seen it. Harry padded towards it cautiously, everyone else oblivious to the aura coming off the thing. Less than half a metre away from it, Harry stopped and sent out tendrils of his magic, probing the sceptre's own unique 'magic'. He hissed as something resembling the Imperius Curse slithered over his magic and mind. His eyes flared brightly as he threw up shields unimaginable to those in his school years. The Tesseract's power crashed into his shields, trying to burrow into them. Harry hissed and forced the opposing magic away from his mind, a tingling on his chest grounding him.
Magister?
Do not come!
Magister, let me assist you.
No! Do not come near, this 'magic' is not to know of you.
As you wish Magister.
Death's voice left his mind and Harry exhaled, not wanting to know how the Tesseract's power would affect Death. Neither did he want Loki to know about Death, considering he has a bond with the sceptre similar to a wand and its wizard. Another wave bombarded his shields and Harry clenched his teeth, gathering his magic up and hurling it at the attack. The power was thrown back and before it could reorganise itself, it disappeared. Harry blinked and shook his head, his surroundings came back and so did the sight of Dr Banner holding the sceptre. Immediately, he washed his magic over Dr Banner's mind, just in time before the Tesseract's own. Once again his magic fought on a mental plane and Harry thanked Merlin for having the newfound knowledge to do such a thing. A strange thought occurred to him, one so strange that he followed through.
Leave them be!
He broadcasted, the Tesseract hesitated and probed Harry's magic.
Mine!
The Tesseract eased slightly, leading Harry to discover it was in fact sentient.
Leave.
The Tesseract retreated and Dr Banner put the sceptre down. Harry sighed in relief and regarded Dr Banner carefully, dispelling the lingering tendrils of the Tesseract.
"Oh my God." Dr Banner looked up, just before a massive explosion ruptured the helicarrier and sent everyone in different directions. Harry, Dr Banner and Romanov all crashed down onto a lower level.
"Merlin." Harry breathed, slowly rising, using a metal column for support. Did someone just hit us with a damn bomb?
"We're okay." Romanov reported, causing Harry to glance over at her and then to Dr Banner. Obviously, Romanov's 'we're okay' didn't include Dr Banner, who growled, flinging his head like a wet dog and clenching his hands into fists.
"We're okay right?" She asked, why no, we are most definitely not okay.
"I suggest you leave Ms Romanov." Harry informed, the Elder Wand in his hand and gaze latched onto the increasing threat of Dr Banner.
Natasha glanced at Harry, a retort on her lips that died very quickly. Three new accessories adorned Harry Potter. A cloak draped over his shoulders like water, a stick was held expertly in his hand, and a ring with an extraordinary stone blessed his finger. Harry turned his attention to her and she inhaled sharply, shadows accented his face whilst glowing green eyes peered at her.
"What are you?" She demanded.
"Perhaps for another time Ms Romanov." He said, aiming his stick in her direction. His lips moved and the debris restraining her leg lifted into the air and landed over a metre away.
"Swish and flick no more!" Harry declared. Natasha gave him a puzzled look.
"It's a long story." He explained. Both of their attentions were brought back to Dr Banner, who was turning green.
"Run!" Natasha instructed, jumping up and moving to stand in front of the kid.
"Ms Romanov?"
"What?"
"I'm not a child." Natasha spared him a glance and hesitated, a bitter smirk pulled at his lips while glowing eyes sparked with dry humour. Both things led her to the conclusion that Harry Potter never had a true childhood. A monstrous howl drew her attention to the lower level and she saw the imposing figure of the Hulk. A hand on her forearm returned her gaze to Harry.
"Move." He tugged on her arm and they were both running, her in the lead seeing as she knew the best escape route. They both paused when a growl emanated from behind them. Hulk looked over his shoulder and spotted them. Natasha noted the tensing in his muscles while a snarl curled his mouth.
"Move, Natasha." Harry muttered under his breath. They started running again, Natasha acting on instinct, climb the stairs, jump to the upper level, drop and roll, crawl and straighten. She unholstered her gun and only thought about Harry when said person lightly tapped her on her shoulder. He tapped his ear then pointed outwards, then pressed a finger to his lips, and waited until Natasha nodded. Listen and keep quiet. They both took silent steps, Natasha unwilling to admit that she was the only one who seemed to jump at conspicuous sounds.
"ROOOOOAAAAAAARRRRR!" Whipping around, Natasha aimed and fired at the pipe above Hulk, spraying gas, and ran, Harry hot on her heels. They sprinted through a narrow corridor, the cries of tearing metal right behind them. Run, run, run! Natasha screamed in her head, forcing herself to speed up, seeing an opening ahead. Just breaking through into the opening, she was bear hugged by Harry who took the brunt force of Hulk's hit. Harry twisted them around so that he also hit the wall, sparing Natasha of the concussion-inducing impact. Harry's hold on her slackened and she feared he's been knocked out, though unable to see because all her attention was needed on Hulk, who was coming closer.
Harry clenched his teeth and forced back the prying fingers of unconsciousness, blinking away the lingering spots and seeing through the haze. Hulk was less than two meters away and Harry shot a stunning spell that would have even put Grawp down. The spell hit Hulk in the chest, he faltered for a split second, and before he could regain his momentum, a silver and red blur tackled Hulk and they both crashed through a wall and into another room. Harry felt Romanov shudder against him.
"Deep breaths Natasha." He consoled, using her first name to centre her. Harry edged off the wall and from under Romanov, shimmying around until he faced her. Terrified, that's what Natasha Romanov looked like. The slight tremors running through her body, the wide and alert eyes, the short, sharp gasps, all too familiar in Harry's mind.
"Easy Natasha, you're alive and unhurt." He didn't dear touch her, the information supplied to him by Death was more than enough to know that contact given by someone she did not completely trust, would make matters a whole lot worse. A forced breath escaped her lips and some of her usual posture returned.
"No, I'm not hurt." She glanced at him, "But you are." Harry shook his head, "I'm fine Ms Romanov." Romanov didn't look convinced and before Harry could do anything she'd pulled the hem of his sweatshirt up, examining the wondrous bruise flourishing upon his lower back.
"This is not fine." She pointed out, gently probing the tender spot.
"To be honest Ms Romanov, it's the most moderate injury I've ever had." Was his wry response.
"Call me Natasha."
"Wow, first name basis? I thought that only happened to acquaintances and above?" Natasha scowled as Harry nimbly removed himself from her reach.
"Why must you always turn a serious situation into a joke?"
"Because it's been my experience that seriousness leads to sorrowful events." He explained truthfully. Ro- Natasha, opened her mouth to reply but paused and seemed to listen to something. She pressed her finger to her ear and reported, "This is Agent Romanov, I copy." She signalled for him to follow, giving him a look saying 'this is not over' and started walking. Well, that was a close one, he noted drearily before falling in step with Natasha.