An Earthborn Asgardian
This is a Harry Potter, The Avengers Crossover. The main pairing is Harry/Loki. The story will explore how their relationship has shaped them, and how it will come to shape the universe.
As you very well know I don't own the plot or the characters that you recognize.
Part 2: The Return
Words: 4 616
After Thor left, Loki remained in the cell, sitting unmoving on the cot. He stared straight ahead at the plain, gray wall, trying not to think. All he had to do now was to wait. He would give Thor some time to keep his end of the bargain. He knew the big lout would do so if at all possible; he was too filled with honour and belief in the good in people not to.
After their little conversation there was no way Thor wouldn't believe that he wished to redeem himself and that he could be redeemed. In some way it was also true. He hadn't wanted to do most of the things he had ended up doing, but the reasons behind the actions remained the same and it meant that he could not truly regret the path he had chosen.
He still resented both men who were supposed to be his fathers, the one who had fathered him and deemed him unworthy and the one who had taken up the role but only committed in part, his actions towards them would have remained the same should he get the chance to redo everything. He also strongly believed that the people of Midgard wanted to follow, perhaps not a man who openly told them that they were inferior, but nevertheless they looked for leader figures and more often than not failed to think for themselves. Besides that he was still willing to do anything for Harry.
Harry. If they tried to find information about him that would also play in Loki's favour. After all, Harry was to his people what these Avengers were to the rest of the Earth. They would believe in Harry's honour and they would be right to do so. Harry had morals, more so than he himself could ever dream of having and any trust placed in him would be treated with utter most care. The good thing, which he was slightly smug about, was that he had gained Harry's trust and loyalty first, whatever alliance he forged with the Avengers what they had would come first.
Loki allowed himself a miniscule smirk as he laced his fingers together in his lap. He knew it wouldn't be long before Harry found out what had been going on, with or without the involvement of his brother and his band of wayward heroes.
His plan to keep the wizard out of the picture would have bought him no more than a month's worth of time and it had passed now. Harry would be getting back into play and those who thought that they could stop him from doing what he wanted would be in for a surprise. His Deathly Hallows had not been activated without reason.
.:oOo:.
It was an ordinary day at the British Ministry of Magic in London, England, simply a Wednesday morning in mid May with typically drizzly weather. A day when reports were to be filed, boring meetings were to be attended and cases about a newly discovered breed of magical creatures would be filed in the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures. All in all it wasn't a day with the promise of any particular excitement.
The witches and wizards of Earth's magical communities had not been involved in the showdown that had happened in New York City just a week earlier or any of the events leading up to it. Though they took great pleasure in gossiping over disasters, they had a tendency of burying their heads in the sand and ignoring any situation that shook their idea of how things should be. Wizarding Britain was proof of this in how they desperately had tried to cling on to the notion that You-Know-Who wasn't back during the Second War. Ignoring disasters and focusing on the heroes; now that describes what the average wizard and witch likes to do.
Knowing this, it is no wonder that there was a stir when one of the fireplaces in the Atrium flared up in green flames emitting one Harry Potter; an apparently very angry Harry Potter who looked like he came directly from a battlefield. The man who a bit more than a decade earlier had defeated the most feared wizard to ever wreck havoc on the British Isles had grown to become an intimidating and admired figure and seeing him like this intrigued both one and two Ministry Employees.
Tall and broad shouldered with almost unearthly grace the man was a sight to behold as he marched through the Atrium towards the golden elevators without as much as casting a glance at the desk where visitors to the Ministry were required to register their wands.
It was common knowledge that Potter had declined the position as Head Auror in favour of quitting the Aurors all together and jumping between different facilities, giving his services to the causes he deemed most urgent of his assistance, leaving the position as Head of the Auror Office to his good friend Ronald Weasley.
But no matter that Potter didn't hold an official position in the Ministry, he came and went as he pleased and no one in their right mind would think about stopping him, especially not as he stepped into the elevator, eyes blazing with magic, no longer obscured by glasses and torn, black robes billowing behind him in a non-existent wind.
The golden gates of the elevator slid shut and the silence which had held while Potter marched through the hall was broken as people started whispering in excited voices.
"Was that really..?" a young assistant from the Department of Magical Games and Sports asked without directing the question to anyone in particular. Potter did not often make public appearances, making the sight of him a treat even so many years after the end of the war.
"Yes. That was Harry Potter," an older man who was standing next to him said, nodding sagely. "I've shaken his hand, I have," he added, a smug smile on his face.
"Wow..!" the assistant said, getting ready to interrogate the man of the event, and many who were standing nearby listened closely.
In another corner of the atrium the conversation was rather different as a few Aurors were gathered. "He looks like he's been through hell," one of them said, "reminds me of the Battle of Hogwarts."
"Yes," another nodded. "I heard a rumour that the Minister had requested something of him. That was about a month ago. It doesn't look like it went well."
"I've heard the same. Merlin, I wouldn't want to be Shacklebolt right now."
"Me neither, mate. Do you think we ought to tell Weasley?"
"Couldn't hurt. He's been talking about Potter a few times, apparently he haven't been able to talk to him. He will want to know that he's back."
.:oOo:.
Harry was not happy. Not. At. All.
He was tired, he was frustrated and he was quite frankly, pissed off. He stood in the elevator, tapping his foot impatiently. He was thankfully alone in the elevator so that he wouldn't have to keep up any appearances; he was free to show exactly how very irritated he was. Not that he cared much about coming off as nice in his present condition, but that's beside the point. One other bonus of being alone was the fact that no one would stop the elevator allowing him to ride all the way up to level one and the Minister's office without pause. Harry's current mood was all Kingsley's fault and the man would soon know it.
The door slid open after the cool female voice announced that they had arrived at: "Level one, Minister for Magic and Support Staff." Harry stepped out onto the thick, purple carpet that covered the floors on this level and walked briskly down the corridor almost paving down Percy Weasley in the process.
"Harry!" the man, who had fulfilled his ambition and become Senior Undersecretary of the Minister, said indignantly.
"Sorry," Harry muttered, not in the mood for pleasantries, least of all with Percy Weasley, who although he had gotten his act together at the end of the war, never would stop being… well Percy. "I need to talk with Shacklebolt."
"The Minister is busy, you'll have to make an appointment and come back later," Percy said, pompous as always.
"Weasley," Harry growled. "I don't care what he is doing; he may be dying for all I care. I will talk with Shacklebolt and I will do it now. Get out of my way or I will make you." Harry pushed pasts the red headed, bespectacled man, barely remembering to mind his superhuman strength.
Percy remained standing there; gaping at Harry's back for a moment "You can't do that!"
"Watch me!" Harry resisted the urge to flip Percy off, ignoring the man as he began to shout again.
Harry threw up the door of mahogany wood with the small golden plaque, letting anyone with the ability to read know that this was the office of the Minister for Magic, slamming it shut behind him and adding a couple of locking- and privacy spells with a simple wave of his wand, the enchantments not taking any of his concentration from his true target.
"Shacklebolt!" he roared, and the large dark-skinned man sitting by a desk jumped slightly.
Before Harry's arrival Kinsley had been bored half to death, going over the meeting minutes from the most recent gathering of the International Confederation of Wizards. He wouldn't have bothered doing it if it wasn't for Percy Weasley, that man was a slave driver. However the Senior Undersecretary was also the one person who was responsible for making sure that nothing was overlooked in all the administration the Minister was acquired to do. If Kingsley knew that he would be required to do so much paper work he might have thought twice about accepting the position as Minister. He had however no one but himself to blame as he had campaigned to be re-elected and won.
Now though, taking in the sight of the man he had watched grow into one of the world's most powerful wizards in magical-, economical- and political-power, standing in front of him seething, knowing that he had played a part in making Harry like that, however unknowingly, he would gladly go back to being bored.
That he had been compromised was an embarrassment, and he had managed to keep it under wraps. No one knew about it, and he was dreading having to tell Harry. "Harry," Kingsley said in his smooth, deep voice, not letting it show that he was slightly intimidated by the younger man. He was the Minister for Merlin's sake and he was a war hardened Auror, a man twenty five years his junior should not be frightening. "What can I do for you today?"
"You can tell me about the stroke of madness which must have overcome you when you asked me to go to Borneo."
"Oh, that."
"Yes! That!" Without waiting for Kingsley to get a chance to explain himself, Harry began to rant. "You shipped me off to Borneo, telling me that their Ministry has requested aid with a delicate situation and that I was the best man for the job. So I arrived and not a single person spoke English. After some failed attempts at sign language they preceded to carter me around the island in an attempt as far as I understood to find someone who could translate." Harry paused briefly and dragged his hands down his face. "Why hasn't someone invented a translation spell?"
"Well, the translators' guild has been working against that for years, you see they-"
"Kingsley! Not the point!" Harry breathed out audible through his nose. "When they finally brought in a muggle to translate, it turned out that no one had any idea as to why I was there! But here is the best part, upon my arrival all magic on the island started acting weird, meaning that there was no possible way for me to use magical transportation to get away from there and now they did have a situation they needed help with!"
"I see. Were you able to help them?"
"No!"
"No? Then how come you are back?"
"An hour ago the fluctuations just stopped; all magic working like normal again. But until then things only got worse, forcing us to live like muggles. Do you have any idea how dependant wizards are on magic?"
"Well…"
"They can't do a single thing without it! Nothing worked! They couldn't cook, they couldn't travel, they couldn't communicate. There was no chance to get a shower or any clean clothes. They couldn't enter their own bloody ministry!"
"Oh."
"Oh," Harry repeated through clenched teeth. "Oh! Is that all you have to say?" Harry was yelling again. He hadn't slept in nearly seventy-two hours, and he hadn't gotten much rest before then either. He was dirty, he was hungry, he was irritated and he wanted answers.
"Harry, you might want to sit down for the next part," Kingsley spoke slowly, his voice still smooth and calm.
Harry's eyes narrowed in suspicion, but nevertheless he sat down in the chair on the opposite side of Kingsley's large, cherry wood desk. "Does this have anything to do with the magical charges we could feel just before I departed?"
"Ehum well-"
"Kingsley!" Harry's patience was at an end.
"Yes, I believe so." The dark-skinned man ran a hand over his bald head. "Harry, in all honesty, I don't remember asking you to go to Borneo."
"What?" Harry blinked uncomprehendingly.
"It wasn't until the next day when I looked through my files that I saw that I'd sent you there. By then it was too late to let you know that something was amiss. I tried to contact you and because of the disturbances in the island's magic it wasn't possible. Not even by owl post, as I am sure you've discovered yourself."
Harry nodded. "They didn't use owls on Borneo, but yes, I discovered the hard way that no messenger birds could leave the island. But I'm digressing." Harry adapted a thoughtful frown. "There is something seriously wrong here," he mused, ignoring his emotions in favour of the analytical thinking he had been taught to do during Auror training. "Are you saying that someone put an Imperius on you?"
"No, it wasn't the Imperius Curse, though it was something similar to it."
"Do you remember at all who did it?"
Kingsley rose from behind the desk and began to pace through the office. "No."
Harry's eyes narrowed. "You haven't told anyone about this have you?"
The Minister slumped back against the closest wall. "No I haven't."
Harry frowned, tapping his fingers against the desk. "That's highly irresponsible of you, Minister. You should have told Ron at least. There's been a breach of security and our country could be in danger."
The dark-skinned man shook his head. "No, I do not believe so."
"What?"
"Listen to me, Harry. I have a theory."
"Alright. I'll indulge you."
"Good, thank you. About the man who, ahem, attacked me. I only remember a few colours; black, green a bit of gold and glowing blue."
"Hmm. That is not very helpful, though I have a feeling it should mean something to me."
Kingsley jerked his head up from where he had been resting it in his hands. "That's what I was afraid of."
"It is?"
"Not exactly, but it's another point in favour of what I fear; another point in favour of my theory. This wasn't an attack on the British Ministry. This breach of security was only in the purpose of getting you away."
"You believe that it was all about me? Really, Kingsley?" The young wizard scowled.
"You underestimate your own importance. I believe you always have. I have come to realize that dark-wizards reason in a certain way when it comes to you. They see you as a threat. You are admittedly a front figure and your reputation precedes you wherever you go. When a wizard is planning something it is no wonder that they would want you gone, and it seems whoever was behind this succeeded in that endeavour."
Harry was silent for a moment, and then he nodded. "Hearing this from you, I can only believe the same. But there is something that you are not telling me. What were those energy charges? Why did they want me gone?" Harry breathed in. "What happened while I was gone?"
"An alien invasion?"
Harry looked sternly at the Minister. "Are you asking or telling me?"
"Telling you?"
Harry sighed. "Damn it, Shacklebolt! Whatever happened, happened. Just tell me already!"
"Sorry. It has been a bit of a mess, although only the American Ministry got involved at all, besides my little stint which was probably orchestrated by the man who led the invasion." Kingsley moved a stack of paper to the side, stalling. "You know about the Tesseract, correct?"
"Yes." Harry nodded.
"Then you know that the American Ministry decided to leave it in the hands of an organization called SHIELD, contending to have spies in place to observe any development. A little less than a month ago the Tesseract was activated and through a portal a man appeared. With the help of a sceptre connected to the Tesseract he took control of several agents and scientists. It works similarly to the Imperius Curse."
"You believe he was the one who made you send me away?"
"Yes, I do."
"And do the colours match?"
Kingsley scratched his chin, thinking back to the day when he had ordered Harry to Borneo. "Now that you mention it, yes they do. The man dresses in black, green and gold and the sceptre, like the Tesseract has a blue glow."
"Hmm. Is the situation resolved? Has the man been apprehended?"
"Yes."
"Good, I guess." Harry slumped in the chair, his energy drained. If the situation was under control he could afford to relax. He really needed sleep, a change of clothes, a shower and something to eat, preferably something English. Bangers and mash for example would be lovely. No more strange fish or exotic fruits for him, thank you very much.
Kingsley recognizing that the risk of Harry cursing him had been lowered, relaxed as well. "If you allow me to say so, you look like hell Harry, you should get some sleep. Get back here tomorrow and we'll talk. I'll have more information for you then."
"Yeah, I suppose that sounds like a good idea. Sorry for barging in here like that. It's just; these last few weeks haven't been all that great for me."
"I understand and I can't blame you. I'm just glad you didn't make any more use of your wand besides the initial locking charms."
Harry chuckled weakly. "Am I really that bad?"
"It is not for no reason that Loki wanted you out of the way during the invasion."
Harry froze. His eyes were open wide. "What did you just say?" he asked breathlessly.
"That it's not without reason that evil magic wielders prefer if you are not around to-"
"No not that! What was the name you said?"
Kingsley frowned, Harry appeared to know something. "Loki," he repeated, taking care to pronounce the name.
"Oh, Merlin." Harry had gone white as a sheet and looked about ready to pass out, his breathing was shallow and he was gripping the edge of Kingsley's desk hard enough for his knuckles to look like they were about to cut through his skin and for the wood to groan in protest. "No," he whispered.
"Harry?" the Minister said Harry's name gently. The man must indeed know something.
"Just give me a moment, please," Harry said weakly.
Kingsley nodded although the other wizard couldn't see him as his eyes were closed. The Minister could recognize that Harry was using some form of meditation to centre himself.
Right now he wished he knew more about the Asgardians and what had happened both in New Mexico the previous year as well as last week in New York. Perhaps he should have a talk with the American Minister. Parson was a reasonable woman. He could ask to see their reports on the matter. If Harry was involved it was likely to end up concerning the whole of Britain in one way or another.
Harry opened his eyes again. He looked calmer, some colour had returned to his face. "Loki as in the Norse God of Mischief and Magic?" He asked, there was a sharp edge to his voice, which Kingsley couldn't place.
"Yes."
"Loki as in son of Odin, brother of Thor, Prince of Asgard one of the Nine Realms?"
"Yes. You seem surprisingly well informed. How is it you know all this?"
"Do you remember that I took several extended periods of time off duty following graduating from the Auror Academy?"
"I do."
Harry had been behaving a bit strangely at times for several years after the war. That was what everyone thought was the cause. No one questioned it. He was doing as expected, becoming an Auror and later engaging in the protection against threats to the wizarding world on an international level. No one cared that he took time to himself every so often. He deserved it after all.
"I suppose the cat is out of the bag now so I might as well tell you, you might end up being the one who has to talk to media and so on."
"The cat?"
"Muggle expression. How do I say this?" Harry moved a hand through his hair, leaving the black mop even messier than it had already been and he had his head lowered, glancing down at his lap. "Oh, Loki, what have you done?" Harry muttered and Kingsley was not sure if he was supposed to hear it. Harry looked up and spoke in a louder voice. "How much do you know about the Deathly Hallows?"
Kingsley frowned. "They are a legend, a bedtime story. Beadle the Bard's tale about the three brothers featured them, if I remember correctly."
"All you've said is true, but that's not all. It's more than a legend. The items are real."
Now the Minister gasped. "Are you seriously saying that Death appeared on a river bank as three wizards used magic to escape death?"
Harry smiled, although it was a weak one. "No. That part, the origin of the Hallows is not true and neither does a person who acquires all three Hallows become the Master of Death." Harry moved his fingers absentmindedly, as if he was rotating a ring on one of his fingers. Kingsley couldn't see anything there though. "Something quite different happened."
"Happened?" Kingsley enquired, picking up on the small word.
"Yes, well... During the war, all three items; the Wand, the Resurrection Stone and the Invisibility Cloak ended up in my possession."
"Merlin, it just had to be you, didn't it?"
Harry shrugged as if to say, I suppose so. "I did not want them. I left the stone in the Forbidden Forest and I placed the Wand someplace safe, but that didn't matter. They had acknowledged me as their owner, a message was sent to their creator and at the same time I began to change."
Kingsley opened his mouth to ask more questions when they were interrupted by the door slamming open.
"Auror Weasley," the Minister said disapprovingly when he saw the tall redheaded man in the doorway, however he was ignored.
"Harry! You're back! I really need to talk to you. I've been trying to reach you but it's been bloody impossible. Loki, your-"
"Ron!" Harry interrupted the Head Auror's rambling, afraid that he'd say too much as he let his mouth go.
Ron's ears turned slightly red, and he got an abashed expression. "Oops, sorry."
"Yeah, well, Kingsley's already dropped the bomb so to speak. I've heard about the alien invasion."
"Oh, well then I- Did I interrupt something? Andrew and Lament told me that you were back and I thought that you'd want to know, but if Kingsley's already filled you in, then I guess I should go back and- You come talk to me once you're done here, 'kay? Sorry for interrupting, Minister Shacklebolt."
"I'll forgive you this time, Ron. I've forgiven a lot when Harry is concerned and I know I'll continue to do so."
"Great! Well then, I'll just go now. Sorry. Ehem. So sorry." Ron backed out of the office, spewing excuses all the way. When he shut the door the silence in the room grew oppressive.
Kingsley cleared his throat and moved to sit back down in his chair. "He's been worried about you. It took me a lot off effort to keep quiet about what had happened. I was ready to tell him if the situation changed, but I know you can take care of yourself and as far as I could tell there would be no use in making the situation worse by worrying your friends."
Harry looked disapprovingly at the Minister. "I am too tired to give you a hard time about this, but I don't like it, Kingsley. You should have told them. Something could have been very wrong."
"Yes, I can see that now. Before though, I felt so certain that keeping it to myself was the best idea. I can't see why."
Harry hummed, thinking. "It's Loki's doing," he said after a few moments. "He placed a sort of compulsion on you. Think of it as a form of the Confounds Charm. It was a spell making you think that you should not tell anyone about what had happened."
"How do you know this?"
The younger wizard shook his head. "I- He did want me away, but you don't need to worry about the community's safety. I-" Harry paused, his hands finding their way into his hair again. "Loki was the one who created the Hallows."
These words made Kingsley sit up straight in his chair, at attention. "What?"
"I know Loki. After I began to change he came and found me. He told me what was happening. He taught me how to control the powers I kept evolving. He was a good friend to me. Ron knows of him of course, so does Hermione. None of us has heard from him about a year though. Last I met him he was upset. I don't know what happened and hearing that he's led an invasion. I don't know what to think." Harry fell silent once more.
"This changes things. You knowing Loki makes things more complicated. You will involve yourself I trust?"
"Yes. I need to see him. If nothing else I need an explanation for his absence. I also believe that I could be able to make him speak. We were… close one might say. I'll talk with Ron, see what he knows and… you said that SHIELD is running the operation?"
Kingsley nodded.
"I'll get in contact with Director Fury then. If there's anything you need just let me know. For now I think I'll head home and sleep for thirty-six hours or so. I'll keep the Floo open if there is an emergency." With those words Harry stood and offered his hand. Kingsley took it, shaking it firmly.
"I'll see you soon, Minister."
"I'll hold you to that, Mr. Potter."
Harry left and Kingsley was left alone to attend to the paperwork again.
He sighed deeply. "I should just learn to appreciate boring stuff," he muttered and picked up the paper at the top of the pile.
End Part 2
AN 23rd June 2013:
Thank you everyone who has in some way shown their appreciation of this story. I liked it a lot myself and when I got confirmation that I was on to something I had to continue it.
I did a lot of thinking before I continued to write; trying to better understand the back-story and the plot as well as how to best show it to you. I think I've figured out a decent way. My only problem is that I tend to fill out with a lot of things before we get down to business, hence why there isn't much going on in this chapter. But I hope you enjoyed it anyway. We do get a glimpse of what Harry's been up to and why he wasn't involved with the Avengers from the start.
Stay tuned. There will be more to come.