There were a few seconds of stunned silence while the Avengers team hastily re-schooled their expressions. Harry had to bite his lip to keep himself from laughing out loud – they were all gazing at him warily. It seemed his little show had made him capable of being a threat.

"Tea?" Not surprisingly, it was Stark who broke the silence. "You literally threatened a psychopathic alien two seconds ago and you're offering tea. That is the single most British thing I've ever heard."

"Hey!" Harry said, rather offended. "Not all British people like tea, you know. I am hurt. I am wounded deep inside. My soul aches. The injustice, I tell you! Injustice! I won't stand for it!"

Just to prove his point, he stood up, then sat back down, twitching an eyebrow at them – rather impressively, if he did say so himself.

Rogers shot Stark an unamused glare before switching his attention back to Harry.
"While we don't appreciate the, ah, help" he said, sounding as if he was choosing his words very carefully, "I need to know if you're a threat. With the powers you possess, you could be working with Loki, for all we know."

Whilst Harry knew the question was a logical one, he still bristled a little.

"Look, Rogers. I never asked to be here – in case you didn't realise, and to be honest, I saved all your asses – yes, even your tight one- on the field. You asked if I was a threat? Sure. Of course I am. Everyone in this room is a threat, and just because I have a different set of skills to your shield-gymnastics or Legolas' fancy arrows, doesn't mean I'm going to unleash them for evil."

"Why not? You easily could." Romanoff asked, her lips pursed even as Barton spluttered in outrage behind her.

Harry shrugged, looked around the room, found the lack of comfortable furniture annoying, and conjured at least ten beanbags of varying colours and patterns. Fury narrowed his eyes, looking ready to protest, but Harry sent him a look, and he subsided for once. He prodded one beanbag with his foot a few times then fell onto it, sighing at the comfort.

"Some of you are interesting. I'm not keen on the idea of planet Earth being dominated by a greasy-haired twig with no fashion sense. You all have some fairly nice aspects. And to be honest, I think you all could make a good team, if you tried hard enough."

He slumped down in his beanbag even more, and then, just to fill in the silence (seriously, did these people not know how to hold a conversation?) turned on some music with a flick of his wand.

"I believe," Thor said slowly, frowning as Britney Spears' voice floated around him, "we owe this warrior our gratitude and respect. Though I do not understand his many abilities, he has proven himself a grand warrior."

"Aw," Harry grinned, one hand resting on his chest. "You melt my heart."

Fury rolled his eyes, eying the members of his team. Stark was giving Harry a calculating look, but not an unfriendly one. Rogers was, understandably, wary, but Harry figured that was out of concern for his team. Romanoff looked, as usual, as unflappable as ever, and Barton would have looked bored if not for the signs of interest in his eyes. Thor was – well, Thor, and all Bruce seemed to be doing was looking vaguely uncomfortable as the words "I'm a slave for you," rang loudly in the room.

"So," Harry said, clapping his hands together. "You've got a few of your agents interrogating that dickwad now, right?"

"Correct," Fury confirmed tapping his earpiece. "Hill's on it. She said she'll have results soon, but I'm not betting on it. Loki's a tough son of a bitch."

Barton looked up sharply. "Permission to go in her place, Director?" he asked, standing up. Romanoff flicked her eyes at him, accessing, then back down to her perfectly manicured nails. Harry just rolled his eyes and subtly raised the volume of the music. He wondered absent-mindedly if they were together. Like, together together.

Fury frowned. "I'm not sure that's wise, Agent. Personal feelings could influence his-"

"I'm sure, sir." Barton said, and his words were final.
Fury sighed, looking uncomfortable, then nodded. "Alright, Barton. Permission granted. Romanoff, go with him."
Natasha dipped her head in a nod, then she and Barton were gone in a flurry of black , skin-tight leather.

Harry smiled a little. "Well, then. It seems you don't need me anymore, so, should I be off?"
He stood as well, the beanbag vanishing from sight with a small explosion of glitter.

"Whoa, whoa," Stark said abruptly, waving his hands around and frankly, looking like an idiot with purple glitter sparkling in his hair. "What do you mean?"

Harry frowned. "We had a deal. Helloooo? Harry talks to Loki. Check. Harry gets Loki to do whatever the hell he wants him to do. Check. Harry is then free to leave. In case you haven't realised, I'm Harry. And that means I'm free to leave."

The billionaire spluttered a little. "But-"

"Midgardian," Thor said, looking a little like a lost puppy. "Did you not say that you enjoyed our company?"

"You're the only one capable of controlling Loki at the moment," Steve chipped in, but he didn't look happy about it.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, a little regretfully. "But I left my friends behind. I'm Head Auror, you see, rather big business, it's all very complicated and magical. Wibbly wimey, timey wimey stuff. Well, not really, but it's just as confusing. I can't afford to leave everyone and fight your war."

Tony and Thor looked very confused, but just as Steve was opening his mouth, Bruce cut in.
"We understand," he said calmly, raising an eyebrow when Tony asked, "We do?"

"You do," Harry replied, smiling at Bruce gratefully and non-verbally casting a silencing spell in Tony's direction. "I'll see what I can do from London, but otherwise I do think this is the last time we'll see each other."

He brushed himself down, gave a rueful look at the glitter spray on the floor, then shrugged to himself and enjoyed Stark's frantic arm movements.

"The spell will wear off in about two hours," he winked at him. "For now, I'm sure everyone will enjoy the silence."

Stark shook his head wildly, brown hair flying into his eyes, grabbed a pen and scribbled something on a pad of paper on the table.

What 'fairly nice' aspects do I have? Is it the goatee? Please, let it be the goatee.

Harry snorted. Of course Stark would still be hung up on that. He mused thoughtfully.

"Well, first of all I like your suit," he finally replied, pointing at Stark. It was a very nice suit. No stripes or ridiculous polka dots like Albus used to wear. He gave a slow turn, pointing to every member in turn.

"Your ass," was directed at Rogers, who blushed bright red, and wasn't that just cute.

"Your hair, my god, its fabulous. Also, the hammer. And that wasn't meant to sound sexual, I swear." was at Thor.

"Your alter ego," at Banner, and finally, he swivelled to stare at Fury, who was gazing back with boredom.

"Yeah…. You… I don't know. The pirate look you got going on, though, it's very… piratey. Though I do think you're going a bit overboard with the menacing government bad guy look. Come on, you could so easily get a glass eye or something, you have like a bajllion dollars. Anyway, congratulations, Jack Sparrow."

"Captain."

Harry turned back to raise an eyebrow at Banner in disbelief, who seemed to be just as surprised as everyone else.

"Its.. Captain. Captain Jack Sparrow," the scientist finally said, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. Harry liked it. It suited him.

"So it is, my friendly green neighbourhood Hulk. But I'd best be off, people to do, things to see. Oh, and by the way," he suddenly added, humour vanishing from his face. "When were you planning to tell them Phil Coulson was alive?"

In the ensuing shocked silence, he changed his outfit to an exact replica of Tony's suit, whirled on the spot, and disappeared with a large bang and a huge cloud of smoke. Just because he could. And it looked cool.

Harry apparated straight into Diagon Alley, releasing a large sigh at the effort it took him. Crossing states was one thing, but hopping countries drained quite a bit of his magical energy. He shook it off, heading straight to the Ministry Of Magic and ignoring the stares aimed at his direction.

"Is that Harry Potter?"

"Mummy, is that The Boy-Who-Lived-"

"It's the Head Auror!"

And then, two voices he knew extremely well.

"Harry Potter is flawless."

"He has two Order of Merlins and a recommendation from the Minister himself!"

"I heard his hair's insured for $10,000."

"I hear he does broomstick commercials. In Japan."

"His-"

Harry grinned and looked up at the two redheads flanking him. Fred and George grinned back, teeth flashing in the sunlight, their bright robes near-blinding.

"Well, look who it is, Gred," George said brightly to Fred. "Ickle Harrikins has come to visit his two favourite brothers."

"It seems he has, Forge," Fred replied. "Now what's this we hear about our community troublemaker running into –dare I say it- aliens in New York, of all places?"

Harry stopped, cocking an eyebrow.
"How do you find out these things?" he asked in genuine curiosity. The twins puffed up their chests, the golden 'W's on their robes glinting.

"Oh Harrikins,"

"You should know by now,"

"We have our ways." They said together, as the three of them rounded the corner.

"Oh really?" Harry asked mischievously. "You already know about me meeting Loki, then?"

The reaction was instant. Fred and George stopped dead in the middle of the street, getting startled reactions from passing shoppers. The look on their faces was pure shock and awe.

"Loki?!" They cried in unison. "As in the Loki?!"

"Yep!" Harry agreed, then frowned. "Wait, we're talking about the same Loki, right? You don't have some sort of great-grandfather's nephew's deceased son called Loki, do you? Because that would be awkward."

When all he received were two gazes of complete horror, he winced a little. "Do you know him?"

"Know him?!" Fred burst out, scandalised. "We built him an altar in third year! Multiple altars!"

"He's our idol-"

"Our God-"

"We're not worthy to even bow at his feet-"

"And you met him?!"

"Yep," Harry chorused back, almost skipping now. "We had a good long chat. I do think you'd find him a bit lacking, though. I was expecting someone taller, myself. Toodle-oo!" and with that, he waltzed straight into the Ministry of Magic, laughing at their dumbfounded looks.

"You son of a bitch."

Steve stared at Fury in frank disbelief. His blue eyes were narrowed, coldness having taken over them like ice over a lake. "Coulson's alive?"

Fury cast a wary glance at Bruce, who looked like he was trying to think very hard about other things. Probably world peace and rainbow coloured unicorns and marshmallows with goddamn sugar clouds.

"I don't think you should take Potter's word as law on this one, Rog-"

"It's a yes or no question, sir." Steve bit out. "And I think we'd all appreciate it if you used common decency and told us the truth for once."

Fury sighed and sat back down in his chair, massaging his temples with his fingers. Fucking Potter.

"You needed it," he said finally, his voice unwavering. The Avengers team (minus Natasha and Clint) glared firmly back. Even Thor looked vaguely murderous, while Bruce was trembling slightly in his seat, looking a bit green. "You needed the push."

"The push?" Tony laughed dryly, his hands curling up, itching, feeling the need to punch someone in the face. Preferably Fury's. "You know, Nickie-boy, I've always known you were a cold, manipulative, heartless douchebag, but you really did go full-Terminator, didn't you?"

Fury stared back, unrelenting. "I would do it again," he said. "And you'd better watch your tone with me, Stark, and remember your goddamn place."

"Where is he?" Steve asked brusquely, remembering how awestruck the agent had been, how Tony had looked after his 'death'. The way he'd choked out the words "We are NOT soldiers!" , the way he'd looked, for an instant, so utterly, utterly unlike Howard.

"That information is-"

"If you say classified, so help me, I will kick your ass, you motherfu-"

Steve flashed a quick look at Tony, who took the hint and for once, stayed silent.

"You had no right," Thor spoke up, frowning deeply. "Though I was not close with Son of Coul, I knew him to be a brave man and a valiant warrior. You do not give him the respect he deserves, Director."

"He's our handler," Bruce added. "And I'm pretty sure he wouldn't like you very much, Director, if he knew what was going on. Hang on," he added suddenly. "Clint and Natasha. Do they know?"

For the first time, Fury's resolve flickered.

"They don't, do they? I'll ask one more time, Director, and you will answer. Otherwise you may find you don't have much of a team to lie to anymore. Where is Phil Coulson?" Steve's voice was calm and brittle, and Fury found himself under the weight of four intense glares.

"Medical." He relented, feeling a headache coming on. "Currently unconscious. You can't…"
His words trailed off as in the blink of an eye, he was the only one in the room. Sighing, he sank, undignified, into one of the beanbags Harry had left behind. "Why do I even bother?" he asked, into the resulting silence.

Hermione Granger took a deep gulp of tea and sat back in her chair, feeling the urge to slap somebody. She rubbed hard at her weary eyes, blowing a wisp of unruly hair from her eyes.

"Geoffrey," she said, trying to keep her voice calm. "I have told you before, if you want to meet Harry Potter, pass your Auror test and work under him. I will not waste my time attempting to get you an autograph."

In front of her, the young man with stiffly-gelled brown hair and excited blue eyes underneath heavy-rimmed black glasses pouted. His skinny limbs looked awkward in a pinstriped blue and white suit, which he wore with no elegance whatsoever.

"But Ms. Granger, everyone knows how difficult it is to become an Auror. If you could possibly-"

"Geoffrey. I am warning you. Harry Potter is not an animal at the zoo to be ogled and passed around. He is my friend, he is a work colleague, and he is not here for your entertainment. I have told you a million times, find a goddamn way to pass the exams."

"But Miss, surely you could pull a few-"

"THIS IS NOT THE AUROR DEPARTMENT!" Hermione exploded finally, standing up and slamming her hands on the desk. Geoffrey visibly flinched back, cowering. " I AM NOT, AND I WILL NOT SAY IT AGAIN, YOUR PERSONAL LACKEY. I WILL NOT DOTE ON YOU HAND AND FOOT AND CATER TO YOUR EVERY NEED! I THINK YOU ARE FORGETTING, GREENBERG, WHO IS IN CHARGE HERE. I AM THE HEAD OF THE DEPARTMENT OF MAGICAL CREATURE WELFARE! YOU ARE NOTHING MORE THAN AN INTERN. IF I HAVE TO REPEAT MYSELF ONE MORE TIME, I WILL PERSONALLY MAKE SURE YOU NEVER SET FOOT IN THIS BUILDING AGAIN. DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR?"

Fuming, she sat back down as the young man stammered in shock. Both of them jumped, however, as a new voice chimed in.

"Scaring the new associates again?"

"Harry!" Hermione squealed, grinning at Harry and Ron, whom were both standing in her doorway. Geoffrey gaped at the three of them, clearly at a loss for words. "Harry, are you okay? The battle, I heard about it, the Auror department has seriously been working itself into a frenzy, Ron's been managing brilliantly, of course, but it's simply not the same without you, Greenberg, get out of my office!" She snapped without missing a beat. Ron snorted as the young associate backed out as fast as a bullet, nearly tripping on his feet as he did so and looking ready to either wet his pants or propose to her.

"Get a move on, then," he said, closing the door shut behind him.

"Calm down, Hermione," Harry said, as the two of them sat down. "I'm back."

"What, just now?" she asked, flicking her wand to make more cups of tea. "When did you meet Ron? How come I wasn't told? Ron!"

"I stopped by the Auror department on my way here," Harry replied, sinking back into the chair with a luxurious sigh, cricking his neck a little. "The mess, I tell you. Papers everywhere, I swear there was even a chunk of the wall missing-"
"That was Dennis!" Ron protested, his ears flaming. "Too much fire whiskey again, I told him to stay away from the Pygmy Puffs but did he listen?"

Hermione rolled her eyes as the two men proceeded to squabble in her office. "The battle, Harry," she cut in, grinning inwardly to herself as Ron and Harry immediately stopped talking. "What happened?"
"Well, I'm done with it, so-"
"Over that quickly?" Ron asked curiously. "Loki must be a bit of a pants villain then. Fred and George will be disappointed, they practically worshipped the guy."

Harry grinned a little and accepted the tea Hermione handed to him gratefully. "Loki's been put in a holding cell. They're interrogating him, but it's definitely not over."

"Not over? What are you doing here, then?"

"Ron!" Hermione scolded.

"It's true though, innit?" Ron fired back. "If there's still something going on, they're going to need Harry's help-"

"They have the Avengers, Ron. They're perfectly fine without me." Harry muttered, though he looked a little disgruntled.

"Aha!" Ron shouted, pointing accusatorily at Harry. "You want to help them, don't you?"

"What?!" Harry protested, backtracking quickly. "I'm Head Auror, don't you think my duty lies somewhere else than over there-"

"Yeah, but you're an adrenaline junkie! We've barely done any field work in months, what with all the Death Eaters rounded up and all and all the new Auror trainees practically lining up to take the JOB. You miss it."

"I am not an adrenaline junkie!" Harry defended, looking wounded as he saw Hermione flash him an oh really? glance. "What are you saying then?"

"That you should help them," Hermione said. "You've already started it, why don't you finish the JOB? Besides, Loki sounds rough. If he's anything like his reputation, I'd say he's aiming for something ridiculous. And we all know the ridiculous plans are usually the ones that work."

Harry groaned, glaring at both of them. "Do you reckon Kingsley knew about New York? Before he sent me there, I mean."

Hermione and Ron TRADED a glance. "Probably," they replied in unison.

"You hate a desk JOB, Harry, and that's all you've been doing for the last half year. Besides, I highly doubt your saving people thing is going to let you sit by while the Avengers take care of Loki. Right?"

"He's right, Harry," Hermione said. "If you've already told them the truth about magic, I think it's worth at least lending a hand. Of course, learning about the way Loki's magic works would be an amazing educational opportunity. What we could do with the knowledge!"

"I hate you both." Harry grumbled, standing up and pacing.

"Mate, it's not like we're letting you do the work by yourself!" Ron exclaimed, looking startled. "We're coming too, of course."

"What?" Harry yelped.

"It's all been arranged already. We've got Dean and Seamus all set to look after the Auror department, Cho already said the Department for Magical Creature Welfare is safe with her, Kingsley gave us the all-go-"

"Shut up, Ron!" Hermione groaned, as Harry gave them both a death glare.

"Kingsley set this all up, didn't he? New York, now this, both of you coming along?"

"Oh come on, Harry!" Ron said brightly. "Just like old times, eh?"

"That manipulative bastard," Harry gritted out. "Nearly as bad as Dumbledore was. I'm sending him a Howler, first chance I get."

"Great!" Hermione exclaimed, standing up. "Time to go, then? One more world to save?"
"Just everyday business, hey Mione?" Ron grinned back, as the two marched Harry out of the OFFICE.

"Hello," Harry said ruefully an hour later, popping into a room on the Helicarrier, where the Avengers appeared to be watching civilian videos from the attack. He had Ron and Hermione in tow.

"I'm back. And I've brought two of my friends along with me."