Again sorry for the wait, seems to be a recurring theme. Once again I have changed the fics direction so long waits abound seeing as I'm a slow writer at the best of times and I do have a life (sort of). Updates probably won't be regular...sorry. Maybe in the holidays...
Disclaimer.
Getting to the fun stuff...well, the parts where I start to properly attack the characters maliciously.
Warnings: Not much different to the other chapters, um...Improbably medical magic-y stuff.
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Harry shivered as an icy breeze rushed through the cave he was crammed into.
He huddled up before regaining his wits and loosening his limbs again. Loose limbs equalled more heat...supposedly.
Well, that was what his instructors had said but it sure didn't feel like it.
And where was the breeze coming from?
There was nothing at the back of the cave, more like an indentation in the rock, nothing Harry could see anyway.
Yet that was where the breeze was coming from.
He shivered again; glad when the wind finally stopped blowing but also missing the comforting newness, difference it brought to his unchanging cell.
He didn't know if it was to discomfort him or because there was a way to escape but his left wrist was chained to the rock behind him.
Maybe it was to make his prison less metaphorical...considering he wasn't really here.
Yeah, keep telling yourself that. Harry thought sarcastically.
For all intents and purposes he was on this...whatever this place was, Thanos's home? He was here body mind and soul if you wanted.
He wondered if he had simply disappeared from earth or if any time had passed...
Time was different in this place, Harry could sense it-feel it. But did that mean that years had passed on earth or seconds?
He shook away his wandering (and increasingly morbid) thoughts and tried to think up an escape route.
It was a little demoralising to know that his captor could read every thought that crossed his mind, even escape plans. But he only seemed to be able to sense Harry's thoughts when Harry was directly in front of him, so maybe (hopefully) like legilimency distance played a part in the successfulness.
Harry sighed and made his way over to the dog bowl.
It had been refilled for him once he had tossed out the water. It was a scary thought that he was being 'looked after'.
He cupped his hands and brought mouthfuls of water to drink.
He was not going to lap from the bowl. His pride wouldn't let him, not yet at least.
And yes, Harry knew that pride could kill but he wasn't not drinking the water given so he allowed himself his little act of defiance. Even if Thanos would probably 'punish' him for not taking the hint.
Dying wasn't an option simply because it didn't transport his body anywhere.
His soul might briefly enter Hela's realm or even Death's halls but he always woke up where his body had died and without memory of what had happened while he was dead.
Sometimes he wondered if he said something particularly humiliating when Hela smirked at him, she had admitted he spoke to her when dead. He spoke to her occasionally when visiting her realm not as a dead soul.
Time ran differently in the halls of the dead and so he probably spoke with her or Death for hours but never could he recall what they had talked about when he woke up alive, gasping for breath and brain kick starting.
To him it was like one moment he was shot (or killed in another gruesome way) the next he was breathing, his flesh knitting back together and his mind scrambling to work out how long he had spent unconscious this time. Usually it was under ten minutes. Usually.
He had once been blown up and woken up later in an unmarked grave. Not fun. At all.
It was incredibly frustrating.
But back to the point. It wouldn't help him escape, dying, and it would probably anger Thanos from what he had said about Harry's 'title'. Not something Harry particularly wanted to do.
And killing himself would be pretty nasty seeing as there wasn't a handy gun or knife around...
Yeah, dying was off the table.
Harry clenched his fists then relaxed them, repeating this movement in order to calm his mind. What was getting to him more so than the dog bowl with Sirius' nickname on it, getting to him more than the lack of food, the torture even, was his loss of time.
He had no idea how much time had passed, was passing. Had he spent days on this...place, or weeks? Or even months?
There was no way to tell, no sun rising and setting (and even if there was there was no saying that it would be the same length of time that days and nights were on earth), nothing.
This planet was a void of nothingness.
No breeze, no sun, light only from the millions of stars above, no nothing.
(Apart from that icy cool breeze he occasionally felt in his cell, but that didn't count, it was too icy, almost as though frost bite was snapping at his steadily thumping heart.)
On earth everything changed constantly, breeze, clouds moving across the sky, cars driving along...everything. Harry hadn't realised he could miss movement (human bustle) quite so much.
He eyed the chain around his wrist ignoring the hollow ache of his stomach. It wasn't very happy being given only water.
Harry sat back down on the cold rock. He was too drained, physically and mentally, to do anything to the chains. Plus he didn't have his wand, that was still on earth. So magic was out.
Mostly. But his wandless abilities stopped at being able to cast a small lumos charm using a finger instead of a wand. He couldn't cast anything else without a wand.
Hermione said even casting lumos was unexpected.
Not many wizards and witches could utilise wandless magic and it wasn't due to the amount of power you had. Hermione had a theory that it was your attitude to magic that made the ability possible or not but that was a hard thing to test so it remained a theory.
All Harry knew was that he could cast a simple and completely useless charm without his wand.
(Alright, so maybe lumos wasn't actually that bad but what Harry wouldn't give to be able to blast these chains and run until he found some way to return to earth.)
He glanced at the chains, which looked uncomfortably like the ones that had hung in Malfoy Manor's dungeons when he and Ron had been locked there during the war.
Hang on-
Harry looked closer.
For once he almost felt grateful for the pretentious nature of the Malfoy family.
Even the chains in the dungeons had sported the Malfoy family crest and the chains here, on Thanos' planet, too bore the same stamp.
Harry leaned back thinking furiously.
Either this was another attempt to anger him from Thanos or there was a reason these chains were just as Harry recalled.
He glanced around the bare rock cave and the deep purple dust that lay atop of it.
A suspicion curled at the back of his mind.
Did this planet even have metal? The same ores found on planet earth?
Xxx
Steve watched from the wall as the witch, Hermione, did...something with the stick in her hand that produced puffs of smoke, flashes of bright coloured lights and slow whirring sounds. That was what Steve had expected to see when they first turned up. Showy flashes of colour and odd sounds.
They seemed to have a pattern to the woman however as her frown deepened when she looked over the results of whatever she was doing.
She pulled out a perfectly ordinary notepad and pen, like the sort Steve himself would carry around, then instead of picking up the pen and jotting down notes she flicked the stick (wand) and the notepad floated at her head height whilst the pen began scribbling down notes furiously.
Steve's jaw dropped.
Tony looked like a kid in a candy store as he practically bounced and Bruce seemed to be watching with far more interest than he showed the TV.
It wasn't long before he began to feel a little discomfited by the silence.
Generally he was good with silence, liked it even. It was one of the things he liked about Harry. They could spend a whole afternoon in the same room without uttering a single word and it would be companionable.
Bruce was always just a little too tense for Steve to feel truly relaxed in the silence, Tony couldn't keep his mouth shut for more than thirty seconds (even when asleep)-his brain just ran that fast that his mouth constantly tried to keep up, Natasha had a watchful air about her that-like with Bruce- just wasn't relaxing, Clint wasn't comfortable in long silences-he said it was good on missions because it meant the silence kept him alert-but having the radio on all the time wasn't enjoying the silence to Steve (Clint even kept the radio on when he slept, as background noise) and –
Well, there wasn't really anyone else, only his team mates. The odd bunch of individuals that Steve found himself glad he was friends (or at least comrades) with.
He shifted from one foot to the other. Bruce twitched. Natasha stilled.
No one it seemed was particularly comfortable. Apart from the wizard and witch in their presence. And Harry. Who looked to be slumbering peaceably, no sign of physical distress or discomfort to be found.
"Well? What's wrong with him?" The red haired wizard asked impatiently, edgily.
It seemed Steve had been wrong in his assessment. No one was at ease.
He could almost feel the waves of restraint it took for Tony not to jump into asking questions or babbling like usual.
"Nothing appears to be wrong with him." Hermione answered with a frown and a distracted air.
"Apart from the fact he won't wake up. Hermione, you know he never sleeps when someone else is in the room also awake. This isn't normal." Ronald, just call me Ron, gestured towards Harry's inert form. "Something is clearly wrong."
"I know that Ronald!" She snapped, looking from her notes to shoot the man a testy glare.
"Then tell us mere mortals what the problem is!"
"I was about to; I was just clarifying the results." Hermione bit back her hair seeming to almost bristle with electricity and become (if possible) even bushier.
"Well go on then."
Steve resisted the urge to but in and tell them that Hermione could have already informed them what was wrong in the time it took for them to argue.
Bruce seemed to be thinking something similar, if the way he was both biting his cheek was any indication.
Hermione plucked the notepad out of the air and the pen fell to the ground with a muffled thump. She seemed not to notice as she scanned the page for something.
"Look here. The results contradict each other. The cognitive test clearly shows that all thought processes in the frontal lobe are-"
"In English." Ron butted in. She shot him a nasty glare.
Maybe they weren't a couple?
"As I was saying," She continued frostily. "The thought processes are at odds with one another. One scan said that Harry was asleep, which we can clearly see, but another said that Harry was awake and his brain activity seems to suggest he is doing something along the lines of a simple Sudoku puzzle or playing checkers, nothing too complicated. The rest of the scans follow this pattern. It wasn't until I did an in depth scan that some rather worrying results came up." Hermione paused, biting her lip in an anxious habit that reduced her from competent woman to a child who had just lost sight of their parents in the crowd.
"They seem to suggest-well," she faltered and compulsively straightened out the piece of paper clutched tightly in her left hand.
"Spit it out." The man urged, looking like he dearly wanted to snatch the parchment from her grip but thought better of it when he realised she could explain what was written on there far more quickly.
"It suggests that Harry is physically low on vitamins, essential minerals...it seems to indicate that he hasn't eaten in a while but he isn't dehydrated. The physical scans were both more informative and confusing. On one hand it says Harry is here, in a perfect stasis, whilst he is also in agonising pain."
She put a shaking hand over her mouth and Ron, who looked no less horrified, wrapped an arm around her shaking shoulders.
"Look, we don't know which of those scans are correct...he might be fine." Ron said, evidently trying to soothe both himself and the woman who was close to tears. She shook her head.
"No, don't you see? Both the scans, all of the scans show up as though there are two Harry's. This Harry is sleeping without dreams, as though he has ingested the Draught of Living Death without the need for sustenance, again as though a stasis charm has actually succeeded to work on a human body. The other Harry, the one with his mental consciousness, is currently somewhere else. Quite probably being tortured." Her voice broke on the last word, losing the crispness she had managed to infuse until then.
Ron's blue eyes shined in his pale face and his lips thinned.
"Well then. We'll just have to find the git who's got Harry and get him back." He said, squaring his shoulders.
"It's not going to be that simple! The magic involved here is incredibly complex; I didn't even know it was possible to put an entire person into stasis; we don't know what we're up against..."
"Then we'll just have to find out. What else can we do?"
Tony cleared his throat.
"I think you're forgetting something."
The witch and wizard looked at each other in confusion before Hermione began rummaging through a small clutch bag she pulled out of her pocket.
Steve found himself gaping again when her arm disappeared up to her shoulder in the small, barely five cm wide, purse.
"Spare wands, essence of dittany plus basic medic kit, books, tent, money – galleons, pounds, dollars, euros, extra clothes, hairs for polyjuice, polyjuice, food, goblin wards...Nope, I don't think I'm forgetting anything." She said turning back to Tony.
"You're bloody brilliant." Ron muttered fervently.
Hermione flushed pink and tucked away the bag.
"I still think you're forgetting something, or rather a few someone's."
Ron and Hermione shared a look again.
"No." Hermione said flatly. Tony frowned.
"Look, I get that you're friends with Harry too and you all care about him but this isn't funny. This isn't a game. The person or people who have Harry aren't some amateur thugs with barely enough brains to string words together-"
Ron was cut off by Clint.
"I think out of everyone in here it's you and your wife who are the ones who don't understand the gravity of the situation."
"Look, we don't have time for this." Hermione said interrupting before Ron or Clint could speak. Ron shut his mouth with a click.
"It's not just that, it's the magical world. It isn't very tolerant to non-magicals at all. And none of you lot would even be able to see or enter quite a few of the places we'll need to visit."
The wizard and witch shared another glance.
"The magical world is very secretive, even more so now than a few years ago, and there are more than a few people with a grudge against non-magicals and nearly as much with a grudge against Harry...that's not even going into the people with both. It's not safe to involve anyone else in this. Thank you for informing us of Harry's condition though."
Tony frowned.
"How do you know it's someone from the magical world who has Harry?" He asked. Steve blinked. Why hadn't he thought of that?
Hermione scoffed. "Because it is clearly the use of magic and-"
"You aren't the only community or group able to utilise a strange form of energy." Bruce said calmly.
"Yeah, I mean, not even counting Loki and all the magic users from Asgard, there are all the other realms, like where the Chitauri came from and that's only the places we know." Clint stated.
Natasha simply leaned backwards against the wall in a deceptively nonchalant gesture, remaining silent as her eyes clocked every single movement, facial expression and nervous twitch.
It was in stillness that she always reminded Steve of a big cat stalking its prey. Maybe a leopard. Or a viper.
Hermione's mouth dropped open for a second.
"What magic users? What are the Chitauri? Asgard? And other realms?" She asked confusedly.
"It's an interesting story really, mainly because I'm in a lot of it, but these guys too, they helped." Tony grinned.
Steve shot him a flatly amused look.
"...you mean you guys took on a whole alien invasion by yourselves? And you stopped the nuke from destroying New York?" Ron blinked. "Man, Harry never tells us anything interesting." He murmured with a fond smile and a roll of the eyes.
"Tell me more about these other realms, Asgard, the Chitauri, everything." Hermione demanded.
"That knowledge is classified." Natasha stated firmly.
Bruce, about to answer one of Hermione's many questions, closed his mouth. Hermione looked incredibly frustrated. A crafty look crossed her face.
"What if I had the clearance to know this classified information?"
"You don't." Natasha said, clipped.
Hermione looked crestfallen. Ron pushed a lock of hair out of her face.
"Now isn't quite the right time to get exams monster on them."
"But it's fascinating." Hermione near complained, fingers twitching in her eagerness for more knowledge. Again the two wand waving magicals shared a look that seemed to convey an entire conversation, the kind of look people could sometimes share after years of knowing each other.
"Alright," Hermione said abruptly, turning to them. "I guess you guys can scope out the muggle world, see if you can talk to Thor about these other realms. Just in case it isn't someone from the wizarding world with a vendetta."
Tony still looked a little put out.
"You'll keep us informed?" Clint asked, suspecting the answer was a no.
"Yes, we'll visit at least once a week if we can. I know someone who can get us a return portkey." Hermione murmured, looking sadly at her friend's prone form.
"What about the kids?" Ron asked Hermione, looking somewhat chagrined. Hermione's mouth made an 'oh' shape.
Xxx
-The young boy, barely out of the toddling stage, ran towards him a beaming smile on his round, chubby face, his hair changing colour every time he blinked. Blue fading into purple fading into pink to red, to orange, yellow...
Harry grinned holding out his arms and ducking down to swing Teddy up, spinning round before cuddling the boy close and breathing in the scent of three year old.
Teddy shrieked with delight, sharp giggles shooting right through to his ear drum, before squirming, trying to catch the bumblebee flying behind Harry's head.
Harry tapped him gently on the nose and tucked him under one arm (upside down) then strode over to Andromeda who was watching with a warm smile and an equally warm look in her eyes.
Harry didn't miss the sadness in those dark eyes, it should be Remus and Tonks in their place, but he didn't comment on it for which she was grateful.
"So how has the little monster been?" Harry asked, making sure to jolt his arm. Teddy's squeals of delight once again filled the garden.
"I'mot monser!" Teddy objected before finding more interest in a passing butterfly.
"The usual. Apart from his new penchant for tossing plates. You wouldn't happen to know where he got that from, would you?" Andromeda asked, one eyebrow elegantly raised, not a wrinkle or speck of dust on her flattering navy blue robes.
Harry rubbed the back of his head sheepishly.
"There might have been an incident involving plates at the last Weasley do...George was there." Harry explained.
"Down! Down! Green!" Teddy exclaimed pointing at the grass. Harry set him gently on his feet and followed Andromeda to the small outdoor table and chairs.
"I like what you've done with the place." Andromeda said, glancing around the cheery garden with an approving look.
A small smile played about the corners of Harry's lips.
This garden and the house were far cry from what Grimmauld Place had once been.
Harry had needed a project after the war, something to do with his hands that wasn't fixing up Hogwarts or the Ministry but a personal project. Away from people.
So with Kreacher's priceless and expert help he had completely refurbished the house.
He got rid of any dangerous items, the ones still left despite their cleaning of it during the Summer before Harry's fifth year, putting most of them into the Black vault just in case, along with nearly all the portraits.
(He still hadn't managed to get rid of Sirius' mother's portrait but he had managed to silence her with a gag. Kreacher had looked mildly horrified and Harry had received cold meals for a week until Kreacher forgave him.)
A few walls he had knocked down so the rooms were fewer but bigger (they needed to be if he ever invited round the Weasleys for a meal or something-Teddy's birthday party maybe) and all of the odious, mould filled wallpaper removed.
Thanks to Kreacher every room seemed to shine and while most ornaments were carefully put into a vault some of them, the ones not dangerous that looked nice, had been left up (Kreacher was happy enough with that).
It didn't look like a musty, grimy house anymore, nor was it a posh house with wealth literally shining from the walls. It was simple, clean and airy. Comfy furniture was scattered here and there, not matching anything, just there for comfort alone.
It was far from Privet Drive's obsessive neatness and there were no cushions that matched the wall paper.
Harry had installed more windows, some rooms had windows spanning for an entire wall.
But the main thing he was proud of was the garden.
Like the house the garden was charmed far bigger on the inside than it looked on the outside but it had been overrun, the greenhouse filled with various carnivorous plants and deadly flowers...even the air had been toxic from some of the spores.
Harry had cleaned it out and then left it.
He wasn't much of a fan of gardening or Herbology so he left it empty.
He had told Kreacher he could use it if he wanted.
Harry thought he recognised some of the plants now in there as cooking herbs.
(He was just glad there were no more carnivorous sunflowers – he had been bitten nastily by one of them resulting in a trip to St. Mungos – or rabid orchids. And that was saying nothing of the naturally magical plants.)
The rest of the garden Harry had torn up then planted new stretches of grass on the barren ground. It wasn't the best soil for plants but the grass seemed quite happy and Harry didn't want a flower bed or anything of the sort even if Andromeda kept on nagging that one would look nice.
He didn't care much for flowers, or gardening.
It was the first time Andromeda was looking at it fully completed.
Harry usually picked Teddy up from her house and when she did drop him round it was to a flat he had been renting in a muggle area near to her house seeing as Teddy was too young to apparate, floo or portkey with and Grimmauld Place had been too dangerous for an inquisitive three year old.
"He's turning four next week." Andromeda sighed, taking a sip of the homemade lemonade that Kreacher had brought them.
Funnily enough, despite Teddy's 'mixed' heritage, father a werewolf and mother the daughter of a Black family outcast who was also the daughter of a muggle born, Kreacher seemed to take a shine to the young boy.
Harry thought it was because Teddy was such an endearing child.
Andromeda was a little more sceptical and thought it was because he bore the traits of a Black (the aristocratic bone structure), had a black family 'gift'- metamorphagus ability – and because Teddy was essentially Harry's son and Kreacher liked Harry.
It didn't change the fact that Kreacher near doted on the boy. He made Teddy's favourite biscuits whenever he visited, always cooked his favourite food and even used some house elf magic on some toys much to Teddy's enchantment.
The first day that a child's innocent laughter had rang through the remodelled Grimmauld Place quite a few of the portraits (it wasn't only Walburga's that had a permanent sticking charm on the back) had been stunned, struck dumb for a telling few seconds.
Harry kept most of them gagged, only the ones who wouldn't insult people for no reason or subject Teddy's ears to filth were allowed speak.
"Have you read the Prophet recently?" Andromeda asked, faux casually in a very low, soft voice. Harry tensed, fingers flicking towards his wand and eyes instinctively looking for both Teddy and a potential threat.
He didn't relax when he couldn't see anything harmful. Teddy was chasing a butterfly giggling as it evaded his grip.
"No. If there's anything important Hermione tells me it, when she visits."
The lines around Andromeda's mouth tightened.
"You should get a prescription." She advised with mild disapproval.
"I should." He agreed but didn't promise to. She caught his evasion, it was hardly subtle and for all that had passed Andromeda was born a Black where kind words held hidden blades, but she didn't press.
For once Andromeda forwent the word games that Harry usually found both stimulating and tiring.
"The new bill...I am uneasy with the possible repercussions." She murmured, Harry had to lean closer to hear her. Her eyes flickered nervously across the grass, latching onto Teddy for a long, wrenching second.
Harry leaned back and threaded his fingers together, in an effort not to clutch at his wand like he was five years old and it was his favourite toy.
"Worrying?" Harry asked, deceptively mild.
"Extremely so."
Harry breathed in sharply. He was not going to dismiss Andromeda's words, not after her advice and help had been so necessary for him before, even if he didn't like it. The truth was rarely something people liked to hear.
For all her word games and subtleties Andromeda was very straightforward. Too much so for the higher society in the wizarding world.
Pretty lies were swallowed whole while the truth was so often dissected until only a mere sliver remained.
"I guess we both need to brush up on wizarding law and air out those dusty seats in the Wizengamot then." Harry sighed with a wry twist of his mouth. Andromeda blinked then bit back a smile.
"You presume correctly." She took a delicate sip of her lemonade, patting down a curl of her neatly coiffed hair. "May I say, you have a refreshing dynamism. You could be wonderful at politics should you try, I'm almost worried about the Wizengamot now."
Harry rolled his eyes at Andromeda's teasing. He couldn't stand the greasy underbelly of political manoeuvres and the politicians themselves were usually...not to his taste.
He had learnt quite a bit about wizarding law and such, Andromeda had taken almost sadistic delight in teaching him, and it was enough to set him firmly away from it all.
"I hate politics." He grumbled, slicing up an apple for Teddy.
"I know dear." She patted his hand with condescension unasked for. Harry's lips twitched. "I believe that-I think this might-we will need to be very, very careful. The outcome will affect Teddy's future." Andromeda stated, still quietly but the steel in her voice was not to be dismissed. She squeezed his hand before releasing it and taking another sip of her drink. She looked as though she wished it was something alcoholic.
Harry mulled over her words. He hadn't a clue about the new laws that were being passed but from what Andromeda implied (outright stated compared to normal), well, Harry glanced to his godson.
His hair was now just as messy as Harry's and he had Harry's nose and lips.
"Teddy, come and eat your fruit. Then we'll see if there are some biscuits." Harry called. Teddy bounced over.
"Werewolves?" Harry breathed in question. Andromeda tipped her head in a gesture of agreement.
"Lovely." Harry sighed.
A bill against werewolves, just the controversial topic he needed to begin with politics.
He glanced to his godson who was happily munching on the sliced apple and nattering away about the adventures he and the butterfly had had in between bites. Andromeda had enforced that much manners, even at three Teddy knew not to speak with his mouth full.
It was worth it, worth going into politics to keep that bright spark of joy in Teddy's eyes. To make sure he would be as happy in the future as he was now.
And werewolves should never have been treated as second class citizens.-
Harry didn't gasp as he was once again flung out of his memories. He lay there; still, mind mapping out the contours of Teddy's smiling face, ears ringing with his gleeful laughter.
"Ah, well, we seem to have found a sore spot. Interesting." Thanos said, excitement lacing his gravelly, jarring voice.
Harry said nothing.
He was tired. Tired of torture, tired of this bleak planet. But most of all tired of dreading the memories that he would have to relive very soon.
Thanos laughed.