HAPPY NEW YEAR! Sorry about the wait for the update \(^0^)/
.-.
Harry breathed in the memories of screaming and weeping and pain and then the following acceptance and anger and hate. He inhaled the scent of blood and vengeance and became a hunter of men. He felt the whip across his back and the kiss of steel at his throat. He held in the air of death and of disguise as he watched men die in agony a knife in their back from what they thought was one of their own. Somewhere someone was screaming, echoing through his mind and soul. But there was comfort much closer than that. A comfort of warmth and safety and knowing you belonged. The comfort of an almost family.
"Sir."
Harry snapped back to reality with a sharp clarity, blinking away the spots of memories that where not his own. He looked down at the blood splattered liberally across his once crisp white shirt and pale unmarred skin and frowned. Vengeance never tasted sweet in his mouth, only sticky and thick with wisps of copper undertone. He looked up at the man who had called his attention back to the present. The man was lean and of average height wearing a crisp suit and standing perfectly at ease, a smile gracing his features. Harry was not fooled for a moment. He recognized a killer when he saw one.
"Yes?" Harry asked evenly.
"I need you to release her."
Her. Harry blinked and looked back down at the source of his earlier distraction. Wide eyes stared back up at him in a mute sort of horror, set with pretty red hair.
"Oh." Harry blinked again.
He released his grip on the woman's chin, her own hands releasing his wrist as she sunk to her knees in a pool of blood.
"I'm sorry." Harry said. "That was rude of me. I just had to be sure you weren't one of the Bastards men."
Harry looked at the corpses surrounding them and back at the woman who was still sitting, trembling, in the pool of blood.
"Sorry." He winced. "I didn't mean to be so rough, but the mind is delicate and anger sharpens the sword I use to hack into it."
He looked up at the suited man who was eyeing the woman. Harry saw nothing in those eyes but he radiated concern and surprise and wariness to those who knew how to sense emotion. Harry took a couple steps back so he was no longer between the man and the woman. The man, the agent, stepped up to her in three crisp strides, offering a hand that the woman ignored in favour of staring at Harry.
"You were in my mind." She choked. "You were there. I saw you. You were in my memoires."
"Sorry." Harry winced again. "I didn't need to dig that deeply but I wasn't fully thinking. I'm sorry Av-"
"No!" She screamed, lurching to her feet. "Don't say my name! Never say it! It's mine!"
Harry understood.
"I'm sorry agent Natasha Romanoff." He said, using her chosen name. "I will never use it."
She panted harshly and looked a little frightened and wild and agitated. The other agent watched her carefully.
"I'm sorry about the mess agent Coulson." Harry said, the name slipping to the front of his mind from the woman's own memories.
"We will deal with it. No less of a mess then if we had got here first." Coulson said narrowing his eyes just the slightest.
"Sorry little spider." Harry said to the woman.
He was apologizing for making her mission obsolete. She had spied on this group for a month now to bring them down and he had just barged in and destroyed the group before she could. She just trembled.
"She'll be okay in about a week." Harry said to Coulson as the man gently rested a hand on her arm.
"You read her mind." He said, not asking, just stating.
"I did. And I did it far too roughly. She will be a bit…emotional for a few days. Her mind is wary and confused and jumbled at the moment but it will straighten itself out."
"Are you a mutant?" Coulson asked, business like.
"Not at all." Harry answered with a tired smile.
He hated the feeling of blood drying on his skin. He wanted to go home.
"I have a few questions for you." Coulson said as men with guns slipped from the shadows, surveying the area before starting to take control of the scene.
"I'm sure you do." Harry agreed. "But I'm going home. "
"It would not be in your best interest to try and slip away at the moment." Coulson said.
"I'm leaving right now but if you really want to ask your questions come speak with me later."
Coulson was silent a moment.
"May I have some way to contact you then?"
"I'm quite sure you'll find me perfectly fine without any hints. And just to state for the record, I am not a threat to SHIELD and have no interest in joining your little club."
And with that Harry apparated away.
That was the first time Harry Potter and Agent Phil Coulson met.
.-.
Harry looked up as the small bell above the door chimed.
"We're about to close in five minutes so I'll have to ask you to make sure your order is to go." Harry said, in way of a greeting.
"I'm not here for coffee Mr. Potter."
"You've seen me with blood on my hands and a corpse at my feet. I'm sure that's enough intimacy to call me by my first name." Harry quirked a smile at Agent Coulson.
Coulson actually smiled back.
"Harrison." He inclined his head just the slightest.
"But that is not my first name." Harry snorted. "I take it you want to ask those questions."
"Indeed."
"Sit down then. What will you be having to drink?"
"Thank you but I do not-"
"Yeah, yeah, now what do you want?"
Coulson sighed, but a smirk tugged at his lips. Five minutes later Harry had locked up shop and was serving Coulson a sugary coffee.
"I had not expected to find you running a coffee shop." Coulson said looking about at the rustic little place that held mismatching chairs and tables and was decorated with the oddest pieces of art, literature taking up shelves on the wall.
"That's what everyone who sees me kill people says." Harry smiled.
"And do a lot of people watch you kill?"
"Not at all." Harry smiled. "What can I do for you Agent Coulson?"
"I would like to know where you came from first."
"Don't be annoying agent." Harry snorted. "You already know everything."
Coulson didn't deny it, instead he opened the file he'd carried in.
"Harry James Potter, born july 31st in Godrics Hollow England. Average marks in school. Moved from Britain to Portland four years ago, opened up a café and ran it till it was flourishing and then handed it off to one of yoru employees. You moved here two years ago and opened up this little café and have been running it, fairly well apparently, since. No family. No criminal record. Tell me Mr. Potter, what makes a man like you go and kill a whole gang. With your bare hands no less it seems."
Harry blew the steam off his own cup of tea and looked at the agent across from him. Coulson's eyes held no judgement, only curiosity. Harry smiled showing off his teeth.
"Don't call me Mr." Harry said absently. "Tell me Agent, in those reports, do you have the names of my employees?"
"Yes."
"Then you will notice that Abigail Hanson, who has worked for me for the past three months, has recently been murdered."
"Yes. The gang?"
"Yes. The head's right hand man actually. He thought that because Abigail was pretty and alone it meant he could take her and do as he wished to her."
Coulson was silent as Harry drank his tea, staring out the window at the people on the streets.
"He thought he had some right to pick her off the street when she was walking home and take her back to his place to rape her repeatedly and then kill her. I showed him the error of his ways." Harry smiled a not very nice smile.
Coulson was silent again as he sipped at his own drink. It was a thoughtful calm silence as if they were talking about the weather and not murder.
"So because a girl you have known for three months was killed by one man, you went and killed every man in his gang."
"Yes."
"That makes it sound like you are a vigilante."
"No. I did it because she was mine."
"Explain."
Harry met Coulson's stare and contemplated whether to listen to the demand. Coulson's face didn't change but he did shift his posture to give off the feeling of 'listen to me or else'. Harry just grinned.
"I was her employer; that means she is under my care, she's my responsibility. I shirked that duty and she died. I just made him pay for that."
"I highly doubt that being her employer makes you responsible for her life outside of work."
"It does though. Because I consider it that way. She was under my protection and somebody caught me by surprise and I lost her."
Agent Coulson was silent again and Harry studied him just as quietly.
"I know what it's like to lose people under you." Coulson finally said. "But I also know the meaning of the word restraint."
Harry laughed.
"Do not misunderstand Agent. I am not psychopath who's going to flip out on anyone who touches my employees."
"And yet you killed thirty men."
"You are using the term men loosely. They were more like animals. You and your group were going to go in and put the beasts down yourself, I just got their first. You really should be thanking me for the help."
"We cannot have free men on the streets that go about with the ability to kill thirty armed thugs with no discernable weapons of any kind."
Harry set his glass down with a smile.
"I said it once Coulson. I am not a threat to SHIELD. Nor am I threat to anyone around me. I have a tight rein on both my powers and my emotions.
"And yet-"
"If you bring up what I did the other day again you will sound like a broken record. It may not seem it to you but I do have control. If I did not, Agent Romanoff would be dead too."
Agent Coulson frowned but finally nodded, standing up with his file.
"We will be in touch." He nodded.
"Sure. Feel free to drop by whenever. But don't send Agents tailing me, I'm quite sure that would be highly annoying."
.-.
"Greetings Agent." Harry grinned at Coulson as if he were a friend who had stopped by for an expected visit.
"Please don't greet me like that." Agent Coulson sighed.
"Why not? Everyone will just take it as a joke." Harry grinned at the other customers of the shop who weren't paying any attention to them.
Coulson sighed.
"Are you here to ask me more questions?" Harry asked as he started a drink, stepping aside so his helper could take the till.
"No. I'm here to offer you a position in shield."
"Thanks but no thanks."
"You do not even wish to hear the full offer Mr. Potter." Coulson raised a brow.
"Not at all." Harry grinned. "And don't call me that."
"Fair enough Harold."
"And that, once again, is not my name." Harry said, amused at how the man was trying to guess what 'Harry' was a nickname for.
It would be amusing the day he realized his name as actually Harry, and not some shorter name. Coulson just smirked and Harry rolled his eyes, sliding the man the same drink he'd given him that night about a week ago.
"How much do I owe you?" Coulson asked.
"On the house, even added some extra whip cream." Harry winked. "So now that I've shot down your offer, do you have anything else to say?"
"Not at the time." Coulson smiled.
Harry watched him take a seat by the window. The man spent the rest of the day indiscreetly observing his every move and making notes in his file. Harry just flashed him a grin every free moment to show he had absolutely no problem with this.
.-.
"You SHIELD agents are hard to get rid of aren't you." Harry said as Coulson once again stepped up to the till for their third meeting.
"Quite." The man smirked. "May we speak a moment?"
"Sure. Sarah, take the till please."
Harry got them both drinks and some scones and followed him over to the corner seat.
"So what is up?" Harry asked.
"My superiors had a few questions about your abilities."
"Yeah, not answering any of those. Any more?"
Coulson looked at him hard.
"You understand that the only reason you haven't been brought in for questioning is because you have been cooperating. If you cease cooperating we will detain."
"Would you like to try to now?" Harry grinned cocking a brow.
Coulson frowned and looked as if he was trying to find a threat or trap in those words. Harry quite liked the way his brow scrunched just the slightest as his lips flickered down. Very few hints, just enough to show some form of emotion. It was most likely all staged Harry decided. Or else he was truly puzzling the Agent. He hoped it was the second but it probably was the first.
"If I were to try, would I be able to?" Coulson asked finally, eyeing him.
"I can be from here to Portland in the blink of an eye." Harry grinned. "So you would never be able to simply catch me. I have no idea how well I'd fair against you in a one on one fight. I'd like to say fairly well but I'm quite sure you are more highly trained then myself."
"So you are trained." Coulson observed.
"Not in the art of combat, more in the art of surviving." Harry flashed him a toothy grin.
"Hmm." Coulson said absently, looking him over. "We need you to take an oath swearing not to reveal any SHIELD information you may have learned from Agent Romanoff. And also an oath not to hamper SHIELD in any form."
"Yes to the first." Harry agreed. "But if I were to agree to the second and you were to try and arrest me I'd be unable to fight back."
Coulson's lips quirked as Harry found the trap. Harry stood and meandered back to the employee lounge. He returned a moment later with a small case. Opening it Coulson peered at the parchment sheets and quills curiously. Harry pulled out the regular quill and a sheet and wrote up a quickly but nicely worded oath of secrecy.
"Does that look satisfactory?"
"Yes. We usually have you actually swear the oath though."
Harry snorted and pulled the second quill out, signing his name at the bottom. Coulson actually blinked in surprise as the words wrote themselves in blood on the parchment and in the back of Harry's hand.
"What is that?" Coulson asked.
"Blood Quill. Absolutely binding too. Horrible thing but easier than trying to rip open your hand to sign in blood." Harry grinned.
"…May I ask about the similar scars already on your hand?"
"These?" Harry asked showing the marks on his hand more clearly. "I must not tell lies. Sounds nice and all but the woman who forced me to write this worded it wrong. It's a moral sentence that can be broken. If she had made me write 'I cannot tell lies' I would have been literally unable to tell lies. Especially with how much she made me write the line in blood."
"And the woman?" Coulson asked.
"Dead." Harry grinned.
Coulson raised a brow and Harry just continued smiling. Coulson finally gave a smile and stood, accepting the paper.
"We will be in touch." He said.
"I didn't doubt it." Harry smiled offering the plate of scones.
.—.
Their forth meeting was surprisingly not at Harry's café. It was in the busy subway station at rush hour when people barely had time to look let alone stop and wonder why these two were meeting. And a few did give them few looks, eyeing the man in the crisp suit taking a seat right alongside a ratty dressed boy with an instrument larger then himself. Coulson had tracked Harry down when he had discovered the man had taken the day off work. He'd found him sitting on a subway bench dressed in threadbare jeans and a rumpled shirt playing a beautiful cello.
Coulson was quite surprised at how clear and beautiful the music that emerged from the instrument was and had taken a moment to stand and listen. Harry played with his eyes closed and his face relaxed, his whole body swaying as he played his heart out to the crushing crowds who rushed past, barely paying any mind unless it was to toss a coin in the case at his feet. Coulson could only stare at the man who sat unaware of the whole crowd, playing softly to no one and everyone.
Coulson took a seat next to Harry on the bench after a moment and leaned back, falling into the tune as he watched the crowds waltz past, unaware of the skill that was being freely offered to them. Coulson looked at Harry and wondered if anyone ever saw a talented musician in the lean messy haired young man who wore crooked round glasses and had beautiful green eyes. If Coulson had looked at Harry on the street before he had met him, he would have thought him a fairly confident you man who perhaps had a customer service job and played sports on the side. But he had not just spotted Harry on the street, he had found him with blood up his face and death in his eyes and that was the reason he even knew the man.
Harry finished the last note and let the bow lower, eyes opening to the world around him. Coulson would never say aloud that it seemed duller without the beautiful music echoing through his ears.
"Hello Agent." Harry greeted him, grinning.
"Mr. Potter."
"Please stop with the Mister Potter."
"Harvey." Coulson nodded.
"Bloody hell, I don't think my parents ever would have named me that!" Harry laughed. "How have you been Agent Coulson?"
"Call me Phil." Coulson said abruptly.
Harry turned to look at him, peering at him over his rimmed glasses and Coulson blinked in surprise at his own words. And then Harry smiled.
"Sure Phil. But only if you call me by my first name."
Coulson inclined his head and watched as Harry shoved all the change from his case in his pocket before gently securing the cello.
"You play beautifully." Coulson said softly.
"Thanks." Harry quirked a smile, shouldering the case that was as large as he was. "Walk with me?"
Coulson stood, stepping in line with the man as he headed up the stairs into the streets of New York.
"So, what do you have for me?" Harry asked.
"My superiors have agreed to leave you be." Coulson said simply.
"For now." Harry finished with a rueful grin. "Oh well, at least it didn't turn ugly."
"And if it had?"
"I would have done what I always do. Disappear."
Coulson saw a sad shadow to his words and frowned.
"Do you do that often?"
"No, not really. Only had to do it once." Harry said softly.
Coulson didn't pry any further and watched as Harry stopped to smile at a man panhandling. He watched silently as Harry dug all the change he'd just gotten and handed it to the beaming blind man who smiled to show off his yellowed teeth. Harry laughed at some comment and patted the man on the back, unminding of the dirt cased on his clothing.
"Do you often do that?" Coulson asked as he watched the blind man pick up his stick, obviously heading off to get something with his new found money.
"What do I need a pocket full of change for more than that man does?" Harry just asked.
The rest of their walk was in silence. When they reached an aging but well kept condo building Harry turned back to Coulson.
"Thanks for walking me home Phil. And tell Nick Fury thank you for not pushing things."
Coulson chuckled as Harry headed into the condo building and wondered if he should tell Fury Harry knew who he was too.
.-.
Coulson frowned and looked down at the item in his hand, contemplating it thoroughly. Was it worth it? He considered. Was it worth all of it? He wanted it but did he want to pay for it? He had one like it at home… but this one was a blue one.
"A Captain America magnet?"
Coulson repressed every reaction of surprise his body wanted to give and looked up at the man peering over his shoulder.
"Hello Mr. Potter."
Harry gave him such a look that Coulson couldn't help but smile.
"Harveste."
"Oh now you're just doing it to annoy me. And you're really stretching it aren't you." Harry huffed.
Coulson set the magnet down and fully turned to face the young man.
"Nice captain America shirt." Harry grinned at him. "Is he your favourite superhero?"
"I quite like your Ironman one." Coulson returned. "And yes. For yourself?"
"Thanks." Harry grinned. "And well I don't really pay attention to these hero guys, but I do have to admit that Tony Stark is hottest one."
Coulson raised a brow and Harry winked at him.
"So, you enjoying the expo?" Harry asked waving around him absently.
"Quite. Yourself?"
"It's fun." Harry grinned. "Never thought you the type to enjoy them though."
Coulson just smiled. Harry asked looking about.
"Hey, have you had lunch yet?"
Coulson raised a brow.
"There's a pizza stand just that a way." Harry grinned. "And it smelled delicious."
"I would not mind some lunch." Coulson smiled.
Lunch evolved into talking and then into wandering around the expo, complimenting costumes. And when the expo was finally over they stood in the subway together, chatting until they reached Harry's stop.
"That was fun. Thanks for hanging out with me." Harry said to Coulson as the subway slowed down.
"My pleasure …Harry."
Harry beamed at him so widely it looked like it hurt and Coulson decided he might as well just call the man by his name.
"We should do it again some time Phil. Call me." Harry said handing him a piece of paper as he stepped off the subway.
Coulson looked down at the note and then peeled the paper back to see a familiar captain America magnet underneath.
"When did you-?" Coulson started as the doors shut.
Harry just winked at him from beyond the doors and waved at him as the Subways started off again. Coulson wondered if he was getting slow or if Harry was just too quick for him.
.-.
"Hello Agent."
Coulson blinked at the bubbly beaming girl who greeted him.
"Hello." He greeted warily behind his smile.
She grinned at him and started a drink without another word. When it was finished she slid it to him. He looked down at the usual drink Harry made him.
"If you take a seat I'll go get Harry." She smiled at him.
"What do I owe you?" Coulson blinked.
"Everything you order is on the house sir." She smiled. "Would you like anything else?"
"No thanks." He said taking a seat.
Harry came out of the back a moment later, grinning.
"Agent Phil." He greeted.
"…Harry." Coulson said sipping his drink. "I see you have procedures set in place should I arrive."
"Yup!" Harry grinned taking a seat across from him. "My employees know you get everything on the house and to get me if you come in."
"You do not need to-" Coulson started.
"Nope, but I wanted to." Harry cut him off. "So no arguing. I take it today is just a visit."
"How did you come to that conclusion?" Coulson raised a brow.
"You didn't come during my shift." Harry smiled.
Coulson just smiled and sipped his drink.
"Good timing though." Harry said reaching into the pocket of the apron he always wore in the café. "Here."
Coulson accepted the slip of paper and flicked his eyes over it.
"A charity gala?" He raised a brow.
"I'm playing at one." Harry grinned.
"On your cello?"
"What else would I use?" Harry smirked.
Coulson slipped the ticket in his front pocket and made a note to ask for the night off.
"I'll be there." He said.
Harry beamed at him.
.-.
"Agent Phil!" Harry greeted cheerfully as he saw Coulson waiting for him on the steps.
Coulson offered him a smile.
"I thought I would accompany you to the hall."
Harry smiled softly at him as he shouldered his cello case and shut the condo door behind him. Coulson thought the young man cleaned up very well in a suit. He was wearing a crisp black suit with a white dress shirt and a green silk tie that brought out his eyes.
"May I carry the cello for you?" Coulson asked.
"Thank you for the offer Agent Phil," Harry smiled softly at him, "But I have to decline. My darling stays with me."
Coulson understood completely so he smiled and they headed off down the street.
"Do you own a vehicle at all?" Coulson asked as they headed into the subway.
"No. I enjoy driving but not in this crazy city. I much prefer the subway." Harry grinned. "You?"
"I drive when necessary." Coulson said thinking of the missions that required black tinted cars.
Harry smiled softly again and Coulson suddenly realized that Harry was completely relaxed. It was such an odd realization. While Harry had always been carefree in their meetings, full of smiles and laughter and amusement, he'd always been ready for something like bad news or a fight. But right now he was relaxed and at ease, as if he trusted Coulson enough to let his guard down. In his line of business, total relaxation was a huge compliment and Coulson felt very complimented as he took a seat next to the young man on a train seat.
The car they had entered was mostly empty but for a few teen guys in grungy clothes sitting on a few seats and an elderly lady sitting next to a businessman who was reading a newspaper. Coulson also made note of all the doors and exits at the same time. Habits like this had kept him alive. He was disrupted from his examinations by the clicking of a buckle. He turned to see harry pulling out his Cello, drawing the large instrument in front of him and drawing the bow.
"Warm up." Harry shot him a quirky grin.
This one move had gained him all the attention in the car. The punks sitting a few seats down snickered and pointed at him, making jokes about 'compensating' and 'size'. The businessman was paying attention also but trying very hard to look like he was only interested in his paper. The old lady was the only one to fully smile politely and sit forward. Harry plucked at a string, eyes slipping closed. Soon a soft melody filled the car, slipping into a rhythm that was classical and elegant. Coulson kept a certain awareness of his surroundings for danger, but other than that focused most of his attention on the man playing before him. It was a wonderful sight.
Harry ended the last string of his suite and opened his eyes smiling. The old lady across from him clapped appreciatively.
"Oh son, that was beautiful." She wiped at her eyes. "Simply wonderful."
Harry smiled at her and cased his instrument.
"Hey man! What was that?" One of the teens asked.
Coulson realized they'd stopped snickering a while back and instead where staring at Harry.
"Suite 6. Composed by Bach." Harry smiled.
"And what's your giant violin?" Another asked.
"It's called a Cello or a stand up base." Harry grinned. "You like it?"
"It's sounds okay." One of them shifted. "Is it hard?"
"It takes practise and work." Harry shrugged. "But if you want to learn it is fun."
They eyed the instrument and nodded.
"If you have any other questions. Or you want to hear it again, come to my café." Harry grinned pulling some little business cards from the case.
The boys took them trying to act as if they weren't interested but they all pocketed them.
"I'll give you a free cookie if you come." He cooed at them.
The one flushed while the other two grumbled but none reacted violently which Coulson calculated they would have had anyone else said such a thing to them. Somehow Harry earned respect and interest from everyone around him. He was charismatic. Even the man trying to ignore them had put his paper down. The subway slowed and Harry snapped the last snap closed and stood with Coulson. The elderly lady was also exiting at the same time and Harry smiled and offer her a hand over the stoop.
"You're a dear." She smiled. "And you play so wonderfully. My husband used to play the violin but I've always loved the cello. What's your name Darling, I'm Martha."
"I'm Harry. And are you busy this evening?" Harry asked her as they headed up on to the darkening streets. "Would you like to come to the gala I'm playing at? My treat."
"A gala." She gasped. "Oh dear, I'm not dressed for such a thing."
She seemed very touched by the offer Coulson noted.
"I'm sure they won't care." Harry dismissed. "I would love to have someone there who actually enjoyed my music, not just a bunch of people using it as background noise."
"Oh I couldn't." She fretted.
"Please." Harry pouted at her.
He saw the woman's defence crumbled and soon enough they were heading off down the street. They soon arrived at the event, the lights and people making it obvious. Coulson noted all the rich and famous exiting shiny cars and walking up to the door to be admitted. Harry just headed in, full of confidence. At the door they were stopped by security and scrutinized. Coulson was admitted first with his ticket. When they tried to say the old woman wasn't welcome Harry simply glared and said she was his guest. A quick phone call and she was admitted.
They entered the elegant place and Coulson looked about briefly as Harry helped Martha get a drink and they chatted softly before he had to slip away.
"Such a dear." Maratha sighed as Harry hurried off.
"He is." Coulson agreed politely, sipping his wine.
"You two make such a cute couple."
If Coulson hadn't had years of practice supressing reactions he would have choked on his wine. As it was he barely covered up a cough.
"What makes you think we are together?" He raised a brow.
"You aren't?" She asked surprised. "It's just…well I suppose it's just a feeling you give off. You seem so comfortable together and you sat so close together on the subway."
Coulson contemplated this and sipped his wine again. He decided not to answer and she shot him a sly smile but said nothing else. Coulson spotted a flash of dark hair dancing with red and decided that while he wasn't on duty (not counting the fact he technically always was) he should probably take advantage of the fact Stark was obviously attending his own Gala to promote friendliness by inquiring after his health and making sure he was still doing well after Obadiah had tried to kill him.
"Will you be sufficiently comfortable if I step off for a moment?" He smiled at Martha.
"Of course dear. I'm going to meander on over towards the stage. I think Harry is coming soon."
He gave her a bow of his head and headed off to confront Stark and Potts just as Harry's music started to bloom into the room.
A couple of hours later the gala was technically over but some of the guests were lingering. Coulson was one such guest. Harry was still playing even though most people had left. He was talking with an elderly couple who were laughing. Coulson tried to name them but he'd never studied the richer circles of New York that closely, though he did know they were quite wealthy judging by their accessories. When they finally bid Harry goodbye, Harry waved and pulled the bow from his instrument. A waiter or such brought him his case, flushing and smiling nervously. Coulson frowned as he saw Harry's smile turn apologetic. The young waiter left with an embarrassed sad frown, practically running away.
"What did he ask you?" Coulson asked as he stepped up to Harry.
"For a date." Harry shrugged. "I told him I already had my eyes on someone."
Coulson frowned but as he went to ask his next question, Martha came up looking worn but happy.
"Oh Harry, dear, this was wonderful. Thank you ever so much for inviting me!" She crowed.
"It was my pleasure. Ready to head out?"
"Quite." She said.
Harry smiled at Coulson as they headed out. Outside Harry hailed a cab and helped Martha into it.
"Please take her right up to the door sir." Harry told the cabby, shoving a wad of bills into his hand.
"Harry! I'm sure I can walk up my sidewalk perfectly fine."
Harry just gave the cabby a look. The man nodded with a smile and Harry waved her off.
"So, cab or subway?" Harry asked him.
"Either one is fine." Coulson smiled.
They took the subway. It was a fairly quick ride with Harry filling most of it with chatter as there was no one else in their car. When they reached the condo Harry grinned at Coulson.
"Can I offer you a drink?"
Coulson wanted to say yes. Really, really wanted to say yes. But he had a mission in three hours. He needed to go get ready. He offered a weak smile.
"I have to be going unfortunately."
Harry gave him a disappointed look.
"Well, when you have time for a drink, come over." Harry said leaning over.
Coulson had hoped for it, but hadn't expected it. The feeling of Harry's lips on his was more chaste then he wanted but still very, very nice.
"At anytime." Harry whispered with a glint to his eyes. "Have a good night Phil."
Coulson watched Harry walk into the condo building and it took all his self-control not to call in to Fury saying he was sick and chase after the young man.
.-.
Their eighth meeting occurred on a Sunday morning in a small diner tucked between a hotel and a bookstore, off on a rundown sort of street. It looked like an eighties dive mostly because it had been around since the eighties and no one had redecorated. Ever. Coulson smiled at the tired, annoyed waitress who seemed ready to sneer at his nice suit, as she led him to a booth. The seat had duck tape and the edge of the wood had swear words carved into it. But Coulson found he could ignore all this quite easily when faced with Harry who came practically bouncing in, winning a smile from the waitress and seeming quite excited.
"Thanks for meeting me for breakfast Phil." Harry grinned. "How was your mission?"
"Classified."
They shared a wide smile. Coulson felt something in him lighten as Harry accepted the answer. The last person he had dated had never stopped wanting at least some detail and when Coulson refused they had left him claiming they needed 'trust'.
The waitress returned and took their order for drinks as Coulson shed his suit jacket. Harry ordered his 'usual' and Coulson ordered the same even though he had no idea what it was. As she left Coulson eyed Harry again he appreciated what he saw. Threadbare jeans had been replaced by dark blue jeans that fit snuggly but were not those horrid 'skinny jeans' (though a small part of Coulson would love seeing Harry in those). His washed out shirt was replaced by a nice fitting dark blue shirt with some sort of white flaring design. It all looked quite nice and quite expensive.
"I like you shirt." Coulson complimented, taking in the way it fit snugly around his surprisingly muscled torso.
Harry flushed, tugging at the shirt as he offered a shy smile.
"Thanks. Sarah said I should probably buy some new clothes if I planned to go out with someone."
"You didn't have to. I found you just as appealing in your other clothes." Coulson said honestly.
"It was time for a new wardrobe anyways." Harry smiled. "I hate shopping so I usually put it off. I was kind of down to only one pair of pants and shirt that were respectable enough to wear in public. Along with my single suit. I do quite like the shops around my place though. I just had to walk in, say I needed a new wardrobe and the store girl was quite happy to pick it all out. I just had to try on a few things. Fairly painless actually."
Coulson imagined a store girl fawning over Harry as she picked out half the store to try on him. He could see the outfit was name brand too, so the rest of the wardrobe was most likely the same. Coulson added this fact to the fact Harry had donated all his payment for playing at the gala to the charity it was held for, and the way he treated money like it was air and Coulson reached the conclusion that Harry had a lot of money. It had been noted in the records on the man that James potter, his Father, was a Lord and well off, but it must have been more than they had first thought. Not that it mattered to Coulson. He didn't need for money himself and had learned quite early on in this career that material items didn't mean all that much. There were other things that were far more important.
Their food arrived fairly quickly and Coulson was quite surprised at the quality. Harrys 'usual' was a plate of waffles smothered in whip cream, berries, and peaches. The waffles were handmade and the whip cream was made out of real cream that the cook had obviously just whipped. The fruit was all fresh too and the fruit syrup they were drenched in was homemade jam. Harry attacked his meal with a throaty moan and Coulson wanted to echo his sentiments. He knew why this place was still running even as run down as it looked. People would overlook the appearance if the quality of food was this good.
They ate in silence, enjoying the food and the easy company and when they were finished they resumed conversation. Before Coulson knew it they had been there two hours, and he had drank four cups of coffee and Harry had three milkshakes.
They paid the bill, each paying their own half and headed out into the streets. They spent a further two hours walking in the crowds, occasionally ducking into a store. Then Harry somehow roped him into watching a movie at the cinema. Before they knew it was dinner. They went to a pretty little restaurant and had a delicious dinner and then found themselves walking through a park. And before Coulson knew it the sun was setting and he had spent the whole day with Harry. He had been the easiest company Coulson had ever shared effortlessly.
And then he was being called in for another mission and missing out on another invitation to enter Harry's condo. Harry tried to make up for it with a blinding kiss that was not as chaste as last time and left Coulson cursing his boss.
.-.
Coulson looked at the door before him and smirked, reaching out to the pad he punched in a simple access code and watched as the door clicked open. With a quick step he was inside the building, the door sliding behind him to dampen the natural sounds of night and replace them with the creak of old walls and the whisper of carpet. Coulson, like most agents, both hated and loved carpets. Carpets could hold evidence very tightly, clutching at fibre and particles and blood that could have been wiped away on hard wood floor. But carpets were also wonderful sound dampeners and Coulson walked with an easy gate that was absolutely soundless.
Three flights of stairs and two hallways later Coulson was outside of a door hesitating. He finally raised a hand and knocked. The lock picking tools in his pocket seemed to slump in disappointment but Coulson decided it might not appear too great if he broke into his boyfriend's condo. There was a soft silence before the door clicked and swung open with a soft creak. Coulson looked into the softly lit hallways and at the place a person should have been to open the door. He found nothing. The doorknob rattled and he quickly stepped in, door shutting behind him.
"He is in the bedroom." A voice said next to his ear.
Coulson resisted the urge to leap out of his skin and looked at the portrait hanging on the wall next to his head. The beautiful woman in the portrait smiled at him, flashing him perfect white teeth and tossing her curly brown hair.
"Don't be shy now." She chided. "The door would not have opened for anyone else so you are not unwelcome."
Coulson nodded cordially and headed as confidently as he could down the hallways. The wood floor didn't even squeak under his shoe as he gazed about at the earth toned walls and mismatched portraits watching him with far too lively eyes. He stepped from the short hall into a beautiful den, with a large couch and a bunch of bookshelves filled with both books and odds and ends. The open kitchen looking into the den was done in silvers, blacks and reds, the soft glowing moon painted on the ceiling giving off enough light to make a warm feeling. A door to his left was open showing a spare room. A hallway on the other side of said spare room held and open door to a bathroom and at the end was his destination.
Coulson carefully pushed open the propped door and stepped in. The room was a good size with a large queen size bed and green walls covered in trees. There was no furniture only a large open closet filled with bits and ends. Some real plants sat in the corners of the room but Coulson knew they were not natural plants. But he had no eye for those at the moment. He only had eyes for the figure sprawled over the bed, dark brown covers twisted and turned.
Coulson stepped forwards across green carpeting the reminded him eerily of moss. A flash out of the corner of his eyes had him registering the soft glowing nymphs that sat in the painted trees, giggling and peering at him with jewel eyes. He ignored them to look down at Harry, who was breathing evenly, looking much younger when he was relaxed in sleep, black hair thrown across pale skin.
"Harry." Coulson spoke.
There was no shift or move that indicated awareness but Coulson knew the boy was awake. He proved it quite quickly.
"Phil." Harry breathed, a smile touching his lips even as he kept his eyes closed. "Did Hermione and Lockhart let you in?"
Coulson stayed silent and one emerald green eye finally opened.
"Hermione is the portrait by the door, or more accurately, the portrait is of Hermione. And Lockhart is the door."
"….You named your door. Why am I not surprised." Coulson said with fondness.
"It's an attention seeking nuisance. No better name." Harry mumbled, eye sliding closed again. "Vain to boot the bloody thing. I've had to give it two new coats of paint since moving here just to appease the bastard."
Coulson chuckled and reached out, running a hand through Harry's hair.
"Just get in bed." Harry mumbled, arcing against the hand. "Get rid of the bloody suit first though. Tub please, not floor."
Coulson could only blink as one of the nymphs glowed and motioned him over with a coy look and a finger. When he approached she grabbed the tree she sat on and pulled and a door opened.
"Ah." Coulson said looking into the similarly decorated bathroom that was far too large for this floor plan.
Coulson stepped over grey, pebble like tile and looked at the tub set against a wall that looked like a waterfall. He looked around a moment, noticing the toilet and sink set in an alcove and the stand up shower in the far corner. The walls here painted to look like a tropical forest and the sink was glass with fish swimming through it. A tall leafy plant in the corner shuddered at him and he resolutely ignored it to look at the birds that twittered at him from the mirror.
Then without further ado he shed he suit, dumping it in the tub and watching with only very slight surprise as the waterfall behind the tub came to life and leapt right out of the wall to douse his suit. A water nymph pulled herself from her 2D reality to scrub at his suit, shooing him away with a giggle.
Coulson turned to find the same Nymph as before waiting for him. She once again opened the door for him and he nodded to her as she shut it behind him. Turning to Harry he smiled fondly and nudged the boy over, slipping under the covers with him. He pulled the young man closer, Harry's arm automatically winding over his shoulder. When the man was close enough Coulson kissed him, enjoying how Harry sleepily pressed closer.
"Play in the morning." Harry mumbled. "Sleep now."
Coulson smiled but relented and tucked his head in the man's neck, inhaling deeply and drifting off quicker than he ever had before.
.-.
Coulson accepted the cup of coffee gratefully and smiled as Harry smiled at him. Harry went back to the kitchen to continue with his cooking and Coulson glanced around the room he had seen in the gloom last night. The walls were a soft tan like sand and Coulson hadn't noticed the outlines of sand dunes blowing across the living room. The room was a light blue that blended into the walls, decorated with wisps of white clouds and a large flickering sun as the light.
The light wooded coloured furniture was all very soft and comfortable and gave the harsh landscape a softer feel. To keep up with the bedroom theme there were plants shoved in the corner that once again reminded him of no other plant he had ever seen.
"How do you like your eggs?" Harry asked from the kitchen.
"Over easy." Coulson smiled as he looked at the shelves filled with books and knick knacks all of a … "Ah."
"Ah?" Harry raised a brow at him.
"I had not considered the Magical aspect." Coulson said. "There have only been news of magical communities in other countries and further north."
"Figured it out then." Harry smiled. "Yes, I'm Magical."
Coulson considered this a moment. They had some information on Magical people, but as the magical communities wanted nothing to do with them, they didn't truly keep many tabs on them. And America din't have many magical communities.
"I can see your train of thought." Harry grinned at him. "Ask me anything."
"You are from the Britain Magical community."
"That wasn't a question but yes."
"Why move to the American one."
Harry looked up at him and gave a lopsided smile that spoke of absolutely nothing.
"I didn't exactly move to the American Magical Community. You guys don't have those here. Your magical communities are on the Canadian border and those are more Canadian then American."
There was silence.
"You didn't answer the question." Coulson pointed out.
Harry was silent and Coulson let him stay silent as he finished cooking and brought out a plate, handing it to Coulson as he sat down with only an apple. Coulson smiled at the whole plate of bacon, eggs, and hash browns, all done perfectly. Harry was still silent so Coulson dug in, relishing the taste of the home cooked food. The last thing he had eaten were protein bars on his mission two nights ago.
"Will you tell Fury?" Harry asked.
"Is it dangerous?" Coulson returned.
"No. Just personal." Harry smiled sadly.
"Then no. It's none of his business." Coulson said truthful.
Harry smiled at him and leaned back into the couch, crunching into his apple as Coulson started on the eggs.
"Magical Britain just experienced a civil war." Harry said first.
Coulson immediately made a note to tell Fury to double check all the Magical communities for any large threats.
"There were casualties." Harry said softly. "It was to be expected. But it should have been the police and the rebels that should have been casualties. Not students still in school."
Harry fell silent again.
"You remember Hermione from last night."
He nodded, glancing at the hall the beautiful young woman's portrait sat in.
"She was one." Harry said softly. "And she was my best friend. So after the war, when most of my adopted family was dead, I left. Wouldn't you?"
Coulson looked at the deep rooted sorrow in bottle green eyes and felt something hurt in his own heart.
"I'm sorry." He sympathized, thinking of his own agents who had died. "Is that why you treat your employees like family."
Harry smiled.
"Yes. I want to see the people who are a part of my life flourish. So I protect them so they can have that chance."
Coulson leaned over and kissed him. Harry returned it eagerly, tasting crisp like the apple on his lips. Coulson wondered how in the world he had found this man.
.-.
Harry frowned minutely as he watched his girls clean the shop like pro's, flipping chairs onto tables and emptying the baked goods shelve to take them to the back. He looked about the café and then looked out the beautiful glass windows to the large tower that now took up their horizon. Stark Towers. Harry frowned again and only wiped it away as a hand settled on his shoulder.
"Harry?" Coulson greeted and questioned, looking at him carefully.
"Hi Phil." Harry smiled despite his mood. "How are you?"
"…Fairly well. Yourself?" Coulson frowned.
Harry sighed.
"Just a bad feeling." He said to the unasked question. "A really bad feeing. I…."
Coulson squeezed his shoulder and Harry finally sighed.
"I'm going to Portland for a while."
"Portland?" Coulson blinked.
"It's where I started off when I came here." Harry shrugged. "I technically co own a café there too. The girl I left it to said she would like me to come visit and help decide on some renovations."
"You sound like you don't want too." Coulson pointed out.
"Oh I do want to go." Harry smiled. "But…but I have a bad feeling and don't want to leave the girls. "
He turned to face Coulson and offered him a genuine sad smile.
"And I shall miss you. I can't come back every night."
Coulson kissed him softly, trailing his fingers across the back of Harry's neck while Harry seemed to sigh into him.
"I will survive." Coulson said. "And I'll keep an eye on the girls."
"Thank you." Harry breathed, looking up into his eyes. "I love you Phil."
Coulson seemed to pause in surprise before his face softened and he kissed him again. Harry smiled.
"When I come back I'll show you the best little art gallery I found." Harry whispered, kissing him again.
"It's a date. As long as I get to show you my favourite comic book store."
"Agreed!" Harry laughed. "Hold fort till I get back."
.-.
"They needed something to fight for." Coulson wheeze a laughed, giving and odd smile up at Fury. "Now they have it.,,,"
He was short on breath now, barely breathing at all and Harry wanted to scream even as the wispy image swirled in his bowl.
"Sorry about our date Harry." Coulson sighed as his last breath escape, taking his life with it.
Coulson slumped against the wall and Nick Fury stared at the man for a long moment, expression unreadable. Harry felt the buzz in him turn to a sort of static in his ears. He was not allowing this to happen. He threw his arm out, the bowl flying off his table to smash in a watery mess on the floor. With a sharp crack he was gone, leaving his hotel room in Portland, only to reappear right in front of Nick Fury and a team ready to move Phil Colson's corpse.
"You let him die." Harry hissed.
"Mr. Potter." Nick Fury said simply. "Coulson knew the risks."
Harry sneered but then dropped to his knees next to Phil. He took a deep breath and really looked at Phil, past the layers of this reality. He still had a chance. He scooped the corpse up with haste and turned to face Fury.
"He is mine now."
"Mr Potter, I know you wish to bury him, but there are more pressing matters." Fury said simply. "Would you be willing to help us against Loki?"
Harry merely glared at him and with a sharp crack was in his store in the employee lounge. Nicole who had been on break gave a short jump in startlment then saw Phil in his arms. Without any command she cleared the long coffee table with a sweep of her arms so Harry could lower him down.
"What do you need?" She asked as Harry tenderly set his arms at his side.
"A moment in peace." He said. "And tell the others not to leave the store."
She nodded and hurried back out into the storefront, shutting the door behind her. Harry looked down at Phil and then rolled his shoulders, straightening his stance before he breathed in. Reaching into the deepest darkest part of his soul he found the power that he had been cursed with in the final battle. The Deathly Hallows keened happily in response and rose up, more than willing to do his bidding after he had ignored them so long.
Harry opened his eyes, not knowing when they had shut and knew without even looking that they glowed like lanterns.
"Phil Coulson." He said, voice dark and deep and ringing to pierce shrouds. "You need to come back to me."
He rested his hands on Phil and gently let the power that thrummed in his veins slowly fall like a cloak onto his boyfriend. The Darkness fell all around them as every sense was cut, trapping them in a black empty nothingness. Harry heard his own heartbeat steady in his ears and the sound of his breathes rasping. Phil's body was utterly silent. In this void Harry lost all sense of time and place and could only focus on the person before him.
"You need to come back." Harry whispered and took a step back.
Coulson's body flickered with shadows that weren't really there and with a snap his chest rose once in a shallow breath. Harry fell silent and watched, letting the power bleed off of him. The shadows wavered and disappeared from his vision as he let go of the ancient dark power. The darkness faded and he was standing back in the lounge. He knew the shadows were still there, but he was no longer in a way to see them. Phil stuttered and then took a second breath. Harry turned knowing there was nothing else he could do. He had paved the road back, but it was now up to Phil whether he would walk it.
Harry stepped out of the lounge, shutting the door behind him and looked to the clock. Two hours had passed.
"Is he going to be okay?" Nicole asked from where she was setting a new tray of cookies in display case.
"We shall see." Harry said. "Now, we're going to have some uninvited guests soon and they aren't going to be polite."
As if on cue Harry felt a vicious power rip through the air. Walking to the window he looked up to the sky to see it cracking apart, a wormhole appearing right before his eyes. Harry turned and strode back to the lounge door. With a single deft movement he spun and slammed his hands to it. The door screeched and then lit with glowing red lines that crawled all over the wood before flashing onto the walls.
None of the patrons even noticed as they pressed into the windows to watch the invasion.
"Don't leave this building." Harry told the wide eyed Sarah who was watching as patrons started to run out the doors. "It will survive even having a skyscraper dropped on it so don't leave it. And don't let anyone touch Agent Phil."
"Yes sir." Nicole nodded for Sarah.
Harry headed for the door and stepped out into chaos as Men and women ran screaming, cars trying to weave out of the streets as grotesque aliens in armour poured out of the sky to kill. Harry leaned back to dodge a laser and spun, slashing his hand at the oncoming alien who gave a shrill scream before it was bisected. Harry grabbed a couple that was trying to take cover behind one of his patio tables and pulled them to their feet.
"Get inside." He told them, "It's safer then out here."
They stumbled into his café and Nicole tugged them away from the windows. Four more energy beams slammed against an invisible shield around him and he frowned at the oncoming aliens. With a quick move of his arm the car to his right lifted into the air, levitating silently. He smirked at the nasty things before wordlessly blasting the car at them, crushing them with its impact.
Harry surveyed what was quickly becoming a war ground and tried to find a reason to go back behind his heavily warded shop and wait it out while SHEILD took care of it. He thought of many good reasons to do so. Safer, none of his business, SHEILD had control of this, etc.
Instead of turning back inside though, he tossed his arm, Elder wand sliding into his hand from it's hidden hostler. The Elder wand hummed, eager for battle after having been supressed for so long. It wasn't that Harry didn't like the Hallows or that he felt they were evil. They were just an ancient, very powerful thing that unless they let you control them, was untameable. Harry had found them and had no real opinion on them, but they had an opinion of him. As long as he lived, they would be his, and as long as they were his, he would always live. It was a paradox of mind hurting proportions.
The only thing Harry felt about the Hallows was that they were dangerous. Very much so. So he was cautious in his use of them, but at the same time, had to please them at points so they didn't rise up.
But now, now Harry was mad. He had found this nice, decent man, who admittedly had a dangerous job, but who was just as interested in him. He'd been getting close to this man, very, very close. He'd come to like this man so much Harry thought he might keep him. And then along comes this so called God who wanted to rule the so called world and kills this man Harry likes. Harry was a tiny, itty bit mad.
"I think I'd like to have a word with this so called Loki." Harry frowned.
With a slash of his wand the wood shimmered and changed into a sharp sword. Harry hefted it once to check weight and balance and the sword thrummed. The Elder wand was a weapon. Meant to be a weapon suited to the user, as such it could change forms quite easily depending on the wielder.
Harry rolled under a swing of one of the aliens and with a whistle his sword cut its head off. Harry started off on a light walk and was soon running, adrenaline lighting fire in his veins as he cut down any of the aliens stupid enough to get in his way either with sword or magic. Harry almost laughed aloud as he flipped a broken car into a oncoming flying scooter thing, making an explosion ring out.
Harry saw movement to his right and spun, sword an arch of light before he paused.
Natasha Romanoff was staring at his sword, her own gun aimed at his head. He looked at her cold expressionless face for a moment and saw fear in it.
"How are you Charlotte?" he asked.
"Fine, sir." She said curtly, turning her gun on an oncoming invader.
"Good, good." Harry said, smiling as she too out four of the things with barely a second between each shot. "Phil was always very proud of you."
She flinched in a way that anyone who did not now her would have never noticed. But Harry knew her quite intimately. When you tore through one's mind you came to know them in ways no one else could.
Harry paused as he realized she also thought Phil Coulson was dead.
"Charlotte." He sad gently.
She glanced at him as he relaxed, sword dropping to his side.
"Phil isn't quite dead yet." He said.
She faltered her shot hitting the Alien in the neck instead of head. She turned to stare at him, eyes angry.
"Director Fury said he was dead and he was not lying." She said evenly.
"Yes," Harry nodded. "But there are ways to save a man recently deceased."
She stared at him and then finally gave a curt nod.
"Now tell me where this Loki is," He said. "Because I would very much like to speak with him."
She merely jerked her head up at Stark Towers. Harry saluted her with his sword and vanished with a sharp snap. Harry landed lightly on his feet in a very richly decorated room (and by richly he didn't mean color). The windows were smashed and the floor looked like it had been cracked with great force. A hum of magic in the air made Harry glance down in one of the craters.
A man with bright blue eyes and dark hair was lying motionless, pupils dilated in shock. Harry wasn't surprised he was in shock if he was what had left all these craters. A mere mortal would have been dead but Harry supposed there was something to that 'god' title after all.
Harry slammed his foot down on the man's chest and smirk as he felt ribs creak and one snapped. Loki let out a harp pained hiss, coming back to reality.
"Hello Loki." Harry greeted.
"Who are you?" Loki asked with pain clenched teeth.
"I'm Harry." Harry smiled. "And you killed my boyfriend. Perhaps you remember him? Phil Coulson ring a bell?"
Loki went to say something and Harry caressed his throat with the tip of his Elder blade. Loki seized up, eyes flaring wide as the Elder wand hummed and giggled, its power brushing against the other magical man. Loki's eyes darted up to meet Harry's widening.
"What are you?" Loki asked.
Harry enjoyed the slip of fear in the hiss.
"Human." Harry smiled cheerfully.
"You can't be." Loki refuted.
"Oh I am, I just have a few more skills than most. And a few things that refuse to let me be normal."
The Elder wand purred like a cat in his mind and Harry gazed into blue eyes.
"Now, I want to know why you killed my boyfriend, and I know I won't get a straight answer from you Mr Silver Tongue. So we have to do this a bit more painfully. "
Loki's eyes flashed with panic but before he could even blink or begin to guess what Harry really meant Harry had already dived into his mind.
It took him a few minutes but when Harry pulled himself free of the Asgardian mind it was with new information. He suddenly had a greater understanding of the world around theirs and the stars and the tree of life. He also had a crash course in a foreign magic and was quite sure he could use some passable Asgardian court manners. He also understood why Loki was such a pitiful man lying at his feet, desperate for any form of recognition.
Harry pulled his foot from the man's chest and pulled his blade away.
"When you break free of that mind control." Harry said. "I would like an apology for you attempt to destroy the human known as Phil Coulson and then perhaps we could be friends. Until then, you are nothing but a puppet and a puppet has no emotions."
Loki stared at him wide eyed, uncomprehending.
"You're eyes are blue." Harry said simply in explanation.
"No." Loki said weakly. "They're green."
"No." Harry sighed sadly. "They are glowing blue."
Loki stared at him with some sort of disbelieving horror, and there was a brief flash of green as he realized that he was nothing but a puppet like he had made all those men into. Harry stepped back and Loki grasped weakly at his pant leg, eyes begging him for something, anything,… and Harry remembered Phil with a bloody wound on his chest. He shook the hold off and stepped further back.
"And who are you?" A voice came from behind him.
Harry turned to look at Tony Stark who was frowning at him along with all the 'Avengers'.
"Sorry about the home invasion Mr. Stark." Harry said, flicking his sword and letting it twist and reform as a wand that slid up his sleeve under disbelieving stares. "Needed to have a chat with Loki about killing Phil."
"And what was Agent Coulson to you?" Stark asked even as Barton drew an arrow to level on Loki.
"Boyfriend." Harry smiled.
"The Cellist!" Stark blinked with some sort of understanding. "Thought you were in Portland."
Harry merely smiled and looked at Natasha.
"Give me three days." He said simply, referring to taking care of Coulson.
She nodded and with a sharp crack eh was back at his café. Harry looked at the customers, sitting dazed in the chairs, dirty and scared but smiling at the end of the battle. Nicole had handed out coffee and snacks. Harry nodded to his girls and headed back for the Lounge.
Phil was the same as before, except his cheeks held a bit more color and the breaths were less rattling. Harry smiled and stroked his cheek, shadows rising off his skin like air to grasp at Harry's fingers.
"Come back soon Phil." Harry smiled.
The next breath was steadier and Harry smiled even more widely.
.-.
Harry stroked Phil's forehead and watched as the man shifted under his hand, like a child trying to roll closer to a loved one's touch. He smiled and stroked his skin again, brushing away the hair that had gained a bit of length from his usual short cut. Harry stared at the man he loved and decided it was all alright now.
And then there was a knock at the door. Harry frowned but stood and left his room to peer down the hallway at the door, sensing all the odd presences outside of it. With a wave of his hand everything magical of nature in his home froze. The books and pictures became still and titles were disguised on books and plants became very not-interesting to look at.
Harry opened his door and peered out his door to gaze at the four men and one woman standing there.
"Charlotte." Harry greeted.
"Charlotte." Stark barked in amusement.
The Widow sent him such a glare he made a squeaky noise and hid behind the man Harry knew to be the so called Hulk.
"You said three days." Natasha said. "It has been such."
"Of course." Harry sighed opening his door wider and heading back down his hall.
With a twitch if his fingers the bedroom door shut before anyone would notice. He waved the group to his living room, watching with amusement as Barton perched on his barstool like a large cat.
"Tea?" He asked politely.
"Coffee." Tony Stark corrected looking out the window briefly.
"Tea is good." Bruce Banner said taking a tentative seat on his couch.
"Nothing." Natasha said seriously.
"Have a coke?" Clint Barton peered at him.
"Coke too please, if it's not too much trouble." Steve Rogers said with a smile.
Harry tossed the two sodas and went about preparing some calming tea and a strong sweet coffee. Silence reigned for but a brief moment as he started this.
"So why are we here?" Stark asked looking at him and pushing his sunglasses up on his head to survey Harry. "SHEILD files say you are dangerous but not a threat. They also say they would really like to recruit you but you parry such requests at every turn. Coulson is…was the liaison between you and you really have to be someone to have a personal liaison with SHEILD."
Harry looked to Natasha but she merely pulled a book of his shelf, thumbing through it.
"I am a simple cellist and coffee shop owner." He tried with a warm smile.
"Yeah. I'm pretty sure Coulson wouldn't be interested in someone harmless or boring." Stark snorted flopping beside Steve and Bruce on the small couch.
"What he means is, why did Natasha insist we come here?" Steve interrupted.
Harry said nothing as he finished the coffee and tea. He offered tea Bruce first and returned the smile he got for the trouble. Stark merely nodded and inhaled the coffee, making a pleased noise as he sipped it.
"I see why you run a successful coffee shop." He said drinking another long draught.
Harry returned to his kitchen and piled on a plate of cookies, muffins, and cakes. Harry set them on the coffee table and noted that Natasha had not taken her eyes off of him unless it was to glance at his closed bedroom door. Harry perked up as the sound of a chime rang through the room making the other's pause. He bustled back to his room, slipping in without letting anyone get a look.
Phil was sitting up, rather weakly, and smiled as he saw Harry. Harry grinned back helping the man sit up straighter.
"I heard voices." Phil said.
"The Avengers are here." Harry said simply.
"I'd like to see them."
"Are you sure?" Harry frowned. "You have been getting your strength back in the last two days but you did only awaken forty nine hours ago."
"You mean come back to life?" Phil raised a brow.
Harry shrugged but helped Phil stand. Phil sighed at the black flannel pants and dark green shirt, obviously wanting his suit. Harry rolled his eyes and helped the man standing, holding onto Phil's elbow for support. When they stepped into the living room the Avengers were waiting, nibbling on the baking. Harry wanted to grin as Barton nearly choked on a biscuit as he got the first glance at Phil.
There was a long moment of absolutely stunned silence, even Natasha just drinking in the sight of Phil looking at all of them with that patient smile. And then they were all standing and yelling out questions. Harry's snarl cut through the room as Steve reached out to help Phil and they all drew back. Steve gave up his seat so Phil could sit down more comfortably.
"He's still recovering." Harry said sharply to their looks, "And if you bother him to much I will toss you out on your ears."
"I'd like to see you try." Stark said half-heartedly, eyes locked on Phil.
"Don't test me Stark." Harry snorted.
He moved back to the kitchen as questions started up more quietly and slower. He made Coulson his tea as they filled Coulson in on the battle. Not that Harry hadn't but Phil knew more personal questions and opinions to ask the Avenger to assure them. He brushed off all questions of his survival and simply asked after the battle and them for the first little while as Harry made him a warm soothing tea and got him a muffin packed with nuts and fruit.
"So…obvious question everyone is kind of avoiding," Stark said finally, "How are you alive? Was the whole thing a setup, because the deceased files in SHEILD's system seemed pretty real."
Natasha glanced to Harry, and Barton seeing his partner do this also glanced at Harry. Phil was not that obvious but Harry picked up on the silent question, He shrugged and sipped at his tea.
"Bringing back the newly dead is a skill of mine." Harry said aloud.
Everyone was staring at him now.
"What?" Stark blinked.
"Not everyone can be brought back of course." Harry said. "And a lot of it depends on the person wanting to come back. The afterlife must be quite tempting because life doesn't usually win."
"What?" Stark repeated dumbly.
Harry sent him a raised brow and with a smirk used his magic to tug the empty cup from his hands and grind it to dust right before their eyes. They watched the fine porcelain dust with wide eyes as it swirled and floated to the counter to twist back together and remake a cup.
"Asgardians are not the only ones with Magic." Harry said. "Now get out. Phil needs rest and I don't need you cluttering up my home."
There were protests until Harry made good on his threat to toss Stark on his ear. Magic helped him along greatly and soon they were all out of his condo with promises to come and check back. Phil chuckled weakly, half collapsing back into the couch once all eyes were off of him.
"You need energy." Harry said. "What would you like for dinner?"
"Anything." Phil smiled.
Harry started to bustle about the kitchen, thinking up a healthy meal.
"Harry."
Harry looked up at Phil who smiled tenderly at him. Harry flushed at the look, unused to such open emotions on his lover's face.
"Play your cello for me?" Phil asked.
Harry paused and then stepped out of the kitchen, magic picking up where he left off to finish the meal. Harry retrieved his Cello from his room without a word and sat opposite of Phil.
"What do you want to hear?" Harry asked.
"Anything." Phil said with that smile that was just for him.
Harry flushed happily and started to play, bow sweeping across the strings. He close his eyes and pictured his quaint little café and his employees. He thought of the bustling city around him but this silent little haven he had made. And he especially thought about Phil Coulson sitting opposite of him, alive and quickly regaining healthy.
Across from him Phil Coulson only had eyes for the man playing the large instrument and thought of nothing but the way he looked so peaceful with his hands on the bow and strings.
Both of them were quite sure this was the happiest they had ever been.
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THE END
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