Disclaimer: Don't own.

Chapter Sixteen

Harry was once again barefoot on the uncomfortable metal chair. He was calmly answering the last of Fury's questions, while gearing up to start asking his own. Fenrir was in his lap, his paws planted solidly on the wizard's chest, whining and looking up at him with begging golden eyes.

"We'll go see him in a bit, Fenrir. I need to clear some things up first." Harry told the shrunken pup. He wasn't sure if he should be worried or not that he knew what the wolf wanted. Said wolf huffed in irritation and bounded from his lap to the floor to go bother some of the agents att he control panels, much to Harry's private amusement. "Anyway, Director, that brings us nicely into my topic. There are a few questions I have for you, and Thor, too." He directed that last part at the god, who just looked curious.

It did not escape Harry's notice that the agent Fenrir chose to bother, the woman he figured was Fury's right hand whom he called Hill, was physically fighting the urge not to coo over the downsized runt.

"First, what color are your brother's eyes?" He asked the blond, who frowned.

Thor crossed his arms. "They are light green, world-traveler. Why do you ask?"

Harry just nodded. "That's what I thought." He sighed. "That means this could be a lot more complicated."

Fury's face fell into what had to be a very comfortable expression for it, seeing as he wore it all the time. A suspicious frown. "What are you getting at, Potter?"

Harry didn't miss the fact the dark skinned man dropped the 'Mr.'. A surprisingly petty move for him. He decided not to acknowledge it, though. "When I was talking with Loki-"

"Which I am still unhappy about, you had no clearance-"

"- I noticed that his eyes were blue instead of green!" The world-jumper continued, talking over Fury's interruption. "Now, I'm not sure what that means so..."

"...Changed color? And this is pertinent how, exactly?"

Harry huffed in irritation, "That's what I mean. There could be something behind it, there could not be. I just brought it up in case it meant something to you." He shrugged. "Obviously, it doesn't, so I'll mull it over later. For now, let's move on, shall we?"

"At your leisure, Potter." Fury drawled.

Harry raised an eyebrow. Sure, he had turned down the utter honor of joining Fury's little experimental band of misfits, but that was no reason to be a downright ass. "Anyway, your agent, Romanoff, was talking about how the men who Loki turned to his side were recruited under the influence of some sort of spell. Could you describe the effects to me?"

Thor was still thinking over the last topic, ignoring the other two men now (and a curious Agent Romanoff and Captain America, who were quietly hanging in the back watching the conversation). He had known his brother for many centuries. There was no chance he had gotten the color of his eyes wrong. Was there something that could effect them? Something that could explain his brother's current behavior?

"So, he touched them on the chest with his staff, and they just turned their allegiance to him? Just like that?" Harry was asking. "No... vacant expressions, nothing of that sort? Just normal behavior besides the fact they decided to suddenly switch sides?"

Fury confirmed it. "Why do you ask?"

Harry sighed. "Back on my first world, there was a spell that could control people. It was an illegal spell, one of three, that would get you a life sentence in the worst prison that world had to offer at the very least. They were known as the Unforgivable Curses. They were so bad because there was no shield that would work against them, no known counter spell. Usually, the only way to undo the mind control spell is either if the caster broke the connection between themselves and the victims, or the victims themselves threw it off through sheer force of will."

Romanoff finally contributed. "And you think that Clint and Selvig could be under the influence of something similar?" Anyone else would have sounded painfully hopeful. She managed to sound bored. But Harry wasn't fooled. This 'Clint' must mean something to her. Boyfriend or partner, maybe.

He ruffled his hair. "That's the problem! They aren't acting like the people who fall under the Imperio act, as well as I can tell from what the Director says. I... I think I need to see this staff he used. Did he have it with him when he was captured?"

Cap answered that one. "He did! I was actually thinking something, though. Do you remember the weapons Hydra was using, Harry?" The wizard made an affirmative noise. "Well, his staff thing was shooting off bolts like one of those when we were fighting in Germany."

"It was?" Harry asked thoughtfully. That was... interesting... "Alright, where is it?"

Fury reasserted himself. "As someone who is not either an SHIELD agent, or a member of the Avenger's Initiative, you do not have the clearance for that information, Potter." He said, his tone slightly smug.

Harry just smirked at him. "Fine. I just wanted to get your agent back under your control. But it doesn't really matter to me. Needs of the one, and all that."

The dark skinned man scowled, knowing he had been outmaneuvered. "Fine." He practically growled. "You'll find it in the same lab you were keeping Doctor Banner company in before." Without waiting for an answer, he swooped dramatically away, to stand at his large console. Harry rolled his eyes.

"Can I come along, Harry? There's not really anything I can do here..." Cap said sheepishly, and Harry smiled at him.

"Sure, Cap. I bet all this new tech is throwing you for a loop anyway." He said, before whistling sharply. "Fenrir, Sleipnir, come on!"

The animals joined him quickly, the wolf having finally broken down his female target, who was cradling him and petting him, but he nimbly jumped from her embrace when called. The horse just ambled over.

The last thing Harry bothered to look at in the room was Fury's expression. He realized he hadn't called his companions by name in front of the man, thus not exposing them as Loki's kids... whoops, must have just... slipped his mind.

"So what are the other two?" Cap asked as they were walking through the halls of the veritable maze.

Harry tilted his head slightly in confusion. "What?"

"You mentioned that the mind control spell was one of three very illegal spells. What are the other two? How do they work?"

Harry grimaced slightly. "Well, all three spells affect the mind, though no one else on the world I lived on knew that. They thought the other two were both physical in nature, and it was only due to some obscure research that my friend and I found that they are all just essentially mind tricks. One is instant death of the person hit. It works by suddenly stopping all brain function, including the subconscious acts of your heart beating. Only one person in the history of that curse has been known to survive it, and there were extenuating circumstances that would probably take me a while to explain. I mean, the explanation would take so much, it would probably fill... seven books! Anyway, the other is a torture curse. What it does is take advantage of the brains utter control over everything in the body. Trick the brain, you trick the body, right? So if the brain feels like every single nerve is on fire..."

"Then you get the effect of having set every single nerve on fire without the actual physical proof! Wow, those do sound bad..." Cap's expression matched Harry's. They walked in sober silence for a bit. That lasted until they reached their destination, where they found a very odd scene playing out.

Stark was chasing a harassed looking Bruce around the lab tables, shouting, "I want you to have mah babes!"

Harry broke down in helpless laughter. "I-i wondered w-w-who would get the spiked cookie!" He gasped out, while Cap looked torn between amusement and exasperation.

Bruce, hearing this, roared to the wizard while he put the table in between him and the obviously drugged man, "You did this?! MAKE HIM STOP!"

Once the potion that Harry had put in a single cookie (he decided to play cookie roulette with the gathered Avengers, and had kind of hoped Fury grabbed the love-potion spiked one) had worn off, Stark was none too happy.

Harry ignored his self important rants, having spotted the staff and decided to run several diagnostic spells on it. That caught the rich man's attention, and his mood took a on eighty.

"Ooh, is that your wand?! You only waved your hand when you changed my chair, why do you need a wand now? How did you get it? Did you have to go out in the woods in the middle of the night and have a tree call to you or something? What's it made from?"

Harry sighed and answered each question with patience. "Yes, it's my Wand. Diagnostic spells like the ones I'm running on this staff are far more delicate than the transfiguration I did on your chair, so the Wand is doind its purpose as my focus. I... inherited it, you could say. And you watch far too many wicca movies, Mr. Stark. And it's made from Elder wood." He didn't feel like explaining the bloody history of the Deathstick, and how it had come to be in his possession. Nor that it had a core of Thestral tail-hair. The man wouldn't know what a Thestral was anyway.

He left the diagnostic spells alone, they would need time until they gave him the results, and turned back to the group.

"Sorry bout the mix up, Mr. Stark, I was actually aiming for Fury with that cookie. You just had the misfortune of grabbing it instead." He explained. Of course, the apology was not sincere at all. The scene they had walked in on had been hilarious.

Stark just smirked. "Are you sure you're not related to Loki? That seems like something the god of mischief from the legends I've heard would pull if he could."

Harry just grinned unrepentantly.

He settled in to wait, and watched the others interact. And wondered how Fury thought they could move together as a cohesive unit. Cap was... well, a military captain, used to having his orders followed in battle. Stark was like his father, all ego, but without the ability to suck it up and follow said orders like his old man had.

They would most likely spend more time fighting each other over the top position than enemies.

Harry wondered if Fury planned to use Bruce's problem like Voldemort had used werewolves in the later part of the war. Point it at the other side, and hope it doesn't choose to turn around.

Of course, the good doctor was here under the pretense of studying the gamma thingies and wavicles and partisplicers and all that, but neither Harry nor Bruce were fooled. Fury wanted him around for more than that.

Then there was Thor, whose main focus, whose only focus, was his brother, and getting him back to Asgard. Harry liked the guy, but there was no question in, if it came down to saving a few citizens of Earth or Loki, he would pick Loki. And the wizard couldn't fault him for that, he could understand the loyalty behind it. But he doubted that the rest of the people here would be that happy about it.

So he watched the 'Avenger's' squabble like children, and sincerely worried about the fate of this world.

"You two leggers are strange." A calm voice said in his head, and he jumped. He looked over to Fenrir, but the wolf was asleep. Slowly he turned his head to meet the placid eyes of Sleipnir.

And that's Sixteen! On Wednesday, as promised! And I didn't post it at midnight either, so, yay me! Yes, there are no such things as partisplicers, but remember, Harry is not good with sciency stuff. Although I think wavicles exist. A little angsty there in the middle, but it had to be done. And no, Tony is not trying to seriously get in Brucey's pants, you slash-bashers. Like it said, Harry just drugged his cookie. Friday, then, my darling readers!

Lionna