NEW CHAPTER! Wooo. On time as promised, too!
Been working on this the last month and a half, slowly but surely. This semester has been INTENSE! I made pretties, and wrote beautiful things, and worked for beautiful children. I JUST finished two weeks of Practicum, and one of my classes was English, crime fiction writing. Oh God; reading some of those drafts was soul sucking. However, I did come across my favourite line ever:
'She burst into tears, and was like a tumbleweed lying in a ball of sadness.'
Year 10s, ladies and gentlemen...
A huge thanks to everyone who left a comment: SilverAgnes, Loony Dagda, bittersweet65, evenstarlily, Alybethed, BYoshi1993, Morgen Elisabeth, 101Asa, mh21, twotoed, Foxy-Floof, TheASP, UnlimitedFreeIceCream, jgood27, Concrete63, xxxLeanniexxx, Separ, wolfawaken, KEZZ 1, KeiGinya, ArcanePract-cat, DarkRavie, purple sky always, Not Just A Reader – A Fangirl, ranlynn, angelofheaven001, Chibi-clar, all my anonymous reviewers and everyone else for your support and/or constructive criticism for the last chapter! Your comments are like chocolate- tasty, tasty chocolate!
A little bit of house keeping; I will be retcon-ing (tomorrow) chapter 24, and putting in that Loki took Harry's mokeskin pouch. It hadn't occurred to me at time of writing, and didn't until this chapter, but made far more sense in the scheme of things. So there you go.
Also, I had a few people wondering about how Loki knew Sirius' nickname. The answer is of course- he didn't. In fact, he didn't even know for sure that Sirius even had a nickname. HOWEVER; he did know Sirius had gone to Hogwarts- mostly because of listening in or conversations. He also knew that Sirius could turn into a dog- learnt at some point from watching him. From this, he inferred that Sirius quite probably had some kind of nickname at school, and that Harry would most likely know of it. He didn't know what it was, specifically, but he knew that it was something he could ask Harry when masquerading as Hermione that would most likely be able to be answered by him.
Now read on!
Part Two: Gifts Not For Giving
Chapter Twenty-Nine: Leo the Lion
Harry is stunned into speechlessness. No way did Loki just make that whole thing up. No fucking was that entire thing an illusion.
"Loki," He growls, grabbing at the collar of his tunic before he can move away, "What did you do?"
The bastard grins at him wickedly, "God of trickery and deceit. I swear people keep on forgetting that." He looks put out at the thought. "Men like you; they're always so selfless. Put you in the line of danger and you won't care. But put someone else in there and the need to be a hero comes roaring out. You can't resist."
Harry jams his wand into the soft spot under Loki's jaw. "You used Hermione as bait." He takes vicious satisfaction in the way it digs into his flesh; he half wishes it was a blade instead.
Loki rolls his eyes, entirely unaffected by the threat of the Death Stick, "It was an illusion. You had every chance you work that out for yourself." He knocks away the wand with a long-fingered hand. Harry curls his upper lip at the blasé dismissal.
"No more tricks. No more illusions."
The Asgardian moves away, watching him out the corner of his eye. He smirks, "What's wrong, Potter? Hit too far below the belt for your liking?"
Harry shakes his head, astounded. "You used my best friend as bait. You tortured her. That's so far below the belt you may as well be aiming for my feet."
He puts on a mocking pout, "It wasn't real."
"It was bloody real enough."
Loki laughs lowly, "You needed a kick up the arse; as you Midgardians like to put it. She was as good a motivation as any."
"If you use her as leverage again Loki, I cannot be held accountable for my actions."
The grin he sends him is so wide it's almost sincere, "And there is the Master of Death you should have been all along."
"Shut. Up."
"You should have accepted your rightful station a long time ago. Such self-flagellation and abstinence is unbefitting of the Master of Death."
He says nothing; uninterested in challenging the statement. There was no point in trying to argue with the silver tongue of Loki. Men like him were born to manipulate others; no matter how truthful they seemed most of the time. He was ashamed to admit to himself that he'd begun to forget that important ingot of truth. Loki was a very old and very smart demi-god. But he also had no empathy for the human race; he was ruthless and self-serving. And he'd almost forgotten that- had almost begun to look up to him as a mentor and trust him- implicitly. He couldn't let that happen again. Not when he knew so little of Loki's true motivations.
"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to go home now, thanks."
The fallen god nods slowly, "I can do that. You've learnt all that you will; for now."
Harry looks down at the wand in his hand; a deep brown wood with a lattice-carved grip stained in a lighter colour. It's surprisingly unpretentious. Some stubborn, petty part of him wants to reject it- in retaliation of Loki's underhanded persuasion tactics- but the more reasonable part of him understands the necessity of it. If anything, he needs to keep it just for the sake of having a wand; the one Malfoy had given him had been less than useless, after all, and he couldn't just keep using Hermione's all the time.
But the wand wasn't evil, and it wasn't cursed. He could tell that now. It was just different. And if Hermione and Loki were right, he was going to have a long, long time to get used to it.
"… It's my responsibility to use this, isn't it?"
"Yes. Use it; know it; respect it. If you are fortunate, the Hallows will not leave you for a long time."
"Fortunate. Right."
Loki gives him a sharp-edged smile, "I understand longevity is not a quality a great deal of your kind share. It cannot be helped. I would suggest you brace yourself for the inevitable." Harry's half-glad the Trickster doesn't try to offer him condolences. He doesn't think he can handle such sympathy so soon after he'd seemingly broken the limbs of his best friend just to prove a point. Because there was seriously something fucked up about that situation. He pushes back the memory of her inhuman screams even as he physically flinches. Loki watches the movement with no expression, but he gets the impression he knows exactly what he's thinking about.
"It needed to be done."
"Did it?" He snaps, "Because in retrospect that feels like a whole lot of unnecessary violence."
He shrugs, "You would not have brought out the wand for any other reason. You needed to believe it." He gives him a slight smirk, "With a reputation like mine, would you really believe I would do anything less?"
Harry stares at the fallen god for a long time to calm his indignant thoughts. And yes, he had a point there, but that made it little better in the scheme of things.
"Whatever. I'm going."
He smiles slightly, "So soon? But I've a gift for you."
"I don't care. I am done with this- whatever this was meant to be." He moves towards the door; vaguely aware he's gripping the wand with almost enough force to snap it.
"It's about the dog-man." Harry pauses, and turns on his heel to face the Asgardian. He watches him with that infuriatingly impassive face, "I can take you to him."
He searches for any kind of tell and finds none. Even so, nothing has him inclined to trust Loki at this point. "And you think I can't find him myself?"
Loki's eyes flick down to his wand and back up again. "I'm sure you could. Think of it as saving you the effort. He's hidden himself behind multiple wards."
Harry snorts, "I think I can manage, thanks."
Loki dips his head. "As you wish."
He turns around again; thinks better of it at faces the fallen god, "My mokeskin pouch."
Loki's lips twitch upwards in amusement, "It is yours." He pulls the pouch from a pocket of his coat and tosses it to him. He doesn't fumble through the catch.
He weighs it in his hand, regarding the old belonging with a mix of scepticism and relief. The Trickster watches without comment as he casts a number of detection spells on the pouch and even a finite on it. He only puts it around his neck when satisfied that Loki's put nothing of suspect on the pouch and turns once again to leave.
He pauses at the door; looks over his shoulder to the other man. Loki stands straight and tall, a deceptively serene expression on his face. "Thanks, I guess. For that." He clears his throat, feeling awkward, "Don't do it again."
A smile pulls at Loki's lips, but he doesn't say anything in return.
This time, when he tries the door, it opens for him.
Harry doesn't know why he does it.
He doesn't know why he doesn't just go straight to New York and the tower.
In hindsight it was definitely the smarter idea; if only because it was destined to ruffle far less feathers. But the need to find his long-lost Godfather had been burning hot through his veins ever since he'd stepped out of Loki's room into an empty pine forest. He'd chosen to just go with it- confident that Hermione would find his unmasked magical signature almost as soon as he was out of whatever one of Loki's numerous hiding spots he'd ended up in. And besides that, she'd been without him for close to a week (or quite possibly more); a few more hours wouldn't harm her, and finding Sirius was something they should have done almost immediately after finding the ruins of Hogwort Castle.
For all Loki's claims of Sirius hiding behind multiple wards, it takes remarkably little effort to find him. A few Auror-taught tracking spells later (undoubtedly boosted by the extra power of the Death Stick) and he'd pinned Sirius' residence down to a town called Willcox, in America. The wards his Godfather had wisely erected prevent him from scrying the area properly, but he's confident he'll be able to find him once there.
With no small amount of satisfaction and tremulous excitement, he casts a one-way portus on a nearby branch and sets it for a secluded spot he'd found in some preliminary scrying. One- or three- gut-wrenching seconds later and he finds himself in the grimy backstreet of one of the town's convenience centres. The distasteful scent of rotting food lingers in the air- rising from the large dumpster backed up against a wall. A recycling dumpster sits next to it- overflowing with unflattened cardboard boxes.
"I'd forgotten how plebeian most of Midgard is." Loki remarks haughtily from behind him. Harry swears loudly and drops the branch.
"God dammit Loki! Why are you here? I said I was done."
Loki eyes the area in distaste, and shrugs. "Call it a morbid curiosity."
He scowls, "Well you can take your morbid curiosity and shove it where the sun don't shine."
The corner of his lips twitch, "Careful boy," he drawls, eyes flicking up and down Harry's body, "With wit that sharp you might cut yourself."
He can't stop the soft snort of amusement. Which was not to say he wasn't still mad at the Asgardian, but he'd at least had some time to calm down. He sighs heavily, and looks down the line of buildings to the main street. It almost glows with the reflection of the bright, hard light of cars and glass-faced shopfronts.
"Go away?" he tries again, half-heartedly.
"Mmm… no."
"You're going to follow me, aren't you?"
Loki rolls his eyes, and begins to gingerly navigate the strip of concrete leading to the main street, "Don't be stupid, Potter." He calls from behind him, "God's do not follow; they lead."
Harry shakes his head in derision and jogs to catch up with the Trickster. He stoically ignores the sweltering heat that seems to bounce off the walls of the buildings, but he can feel the droplets of moisture slowly gathering at his lower back and armpits anyway. Loki appears as unaffected as ever though- enviously collected in the clean-cut lines of the suit that has replaced his usual outfits. Which is about the point where Harry realises he can cast a cooling charm on himself- which is probably what Loki has done already.
He mumbles the charm under his breath as he reaches the other man, surreptitiously disguising the movements of his wand from the people on the street. The effect is almost instantaneous. He sighs in relief and pointedly ignores the raised eyebrow from Loki.
"It's this way." Harry says- probably rather pointlessly. He moves to the left and sticks close to the glass walls. He takes in the pedestrians with a muted sense of awe. After spending almost a week in the isolated company of Loki, it feels almost surreal to be surrounded by other people again. Something in him relaxes as the sensation- that is until a woman walking towards them- arms laden with shopping bags- looks at him with a mix of alarm and fear. Her step falters as they stride past her, and the shopping bags swing enthusiastically at the change of pace.
Harry looks down at himself in concern and scowls as he realises how much of a bloody wreck he is. He turns to inspect his reflection in the glass of the closest storefront.
"Bloody hell!" he cries in shock, and glares at Loki from over his shoulder, "You could have bloody told me I was right mess!" He tugs at the collar of his shirt and grimaces at the way it comes off his skin- stuck there with dried blood. The backs of his arms twinge uncomfortably as he twists to get a view of his back.
His shirt is shredded almost beyond (magical) repair, and littered with bloodstains. His wounds, at least, have stopped bleeding and scabbed over as if they were several days old.
Before Loki can insert some smart-arsed comment he casts a notice-me-not on the pair of them- mostly to hide them from scrutiny as he casts a thorough cleaning spell on himself and fixes up his clothes so he doesn't look like he's just come out of a warzone. His companion watches in silence and leans against the glass in feigned nonchalance.
Harry takes a moment to revel in the ability to cast magic again. It feels like it's been months since he's been able to use a wand that wasn't someone else's, and the independence of not having to ask Hermione for her wand is freeing. He smiles at his slightly blurred reflection.
"Right then," he says to it, and casts a light glamour over his face to hide anything he's missed, "Now that I'm fit for human consumption…"
Loki snorts softly from behind him. Harry ignores him in favour of turning and continuing on his way. With the notice-me-not still in place, he murmurs a quiet 'point me,' at his wand. It spins aimlessly for a time- the result of Sirius' wards- but with a fortification from one of his Auror-taught locator spells it steadies. He smiles in triumph and follows the directions of his wand. They walk for close to an hour- taking several turns through the district. The shops turn grungier- more industrial- as they walk and the pedestrian traffic dies down.
Unsure of what he's looking for, he almost walks past the place- the subtle twinge of magical wards the only thing that makes him stop in front of the inauspicious front of a garage. He pockets his wand- eyes fixed on the proudly painted sign- red on white- that reads Marauder's Motors (and really that was the biggest giveaway, if he'd been paying proper attention). The garbled sound of a radio emanates from the open doors, and Harry can smell the distinctive scent of engine oil and petrol even from the other side of the road.
He swallows- suddenly unbearably nervous. Harry hasn't seen Sirius in seventeen years. He'd mourned for him; mourned for the waste of life and the loss of his most precious parental figure. For years he'd battled with the guilt of knowing Sirius' death was ultimately his fault, though part of him wonders now if he'd mourned more for the idea than he had the man. He had barely known Sirius, really. And Sirius had barely known him. Maybe it was just better to leave him here.
"Are you going to stand there all day? Shall I find somewhere to sit whilst you battle with that ridiculous conscience of yours?"
Harry flinches. He'd half-forgotten Loki was there. He shuffles forward. He was being stupid; even if Sirius had a life, the other wizard had the right to know that he was no longer alone. And he had a duty to see if Sirius was happy. A car drives past; music blares out of it and momentarily drowns out the sounds of the garage. He steps off the sidewalk and across the road. Loki shadows silently.
Across the road the music is louder. A man sings heartily to some classic rock song, probably unaware he can even be heard from outside the shop. He walks out of the blinding haze of the afternoon light and into the darkened garage. Harry's mildly aware that it's even hotter inside than out- the metal roof has only rudimentary insulation, making the area heat up like a goddamn sauna. He's infinitely grateful of the cooling charm. A car sits on some jacks (or whatever they were. Cars weren't Harry thing); white, paint peeling on the rear fender. A man's lags stick out from underneath, previously tapping to the music.
"Hello?" He says loudly to be heard over the music. The singing cuts off abruptly.
A moment's pause, "Can I help you mate?" The man's American accent throws him off for a minute.
He swallows, "I'm looking for a Sirius Black."
The man- or what he can see of him- freezes, before relaxing like nothing ever happened. He doesn't move from underneath the car. "Can't help yer; there's no Sirius Black here." His voice is guarded and if anything his accent grows stronger (like he's trying to hide something).
"Padfoot."
The man sighs, and rolls out from under the car. He holds a spanner; heavy, as long as his forearm. "I'm sorry mate, but I don't know who you think I a-" He trails off halfway through the act of standing up when his eyes- no longer gaunt and haunted- land on Harry.
His face drains of colour. No words escape his open mouth.
"Long time no see, Sirius," Harry says slowly, drinking in his Godfather's features hungrily. The last seventeen years have been kinder on the man than the previous fourteen had. He's aged, for sure. Streaks of grey pass through his thick black hair; his face lined, but no longer gaunt. He looks like a man in his early forties, though he must be in his mid-fifties by now.
"Harry?" he rasps, eyes riveted to him. He nods, swallowing down the almost overwhelming nervousness.
"Yeah."
Sirius visibly flinches and his lips curl back in a snarl. He raises the spanner threateningly, "I don't know who the hell you think you are, but you're not Harry. If this is someone's idea of a bloody joke, you've got another thing coming to you."
Harry smiles at the angry man in a way he hopes is non-threatening, "It's really me."
His grip on the spanner tightens, "Bullshit you are. My Harry would be in his thirties by now, kid. If you're even a kid that is- what are you? A mutant shape-shifter? I bet you've got a bloody mind-reader in your ranks too, you bastard. Whatever you want me to do, it's not going to happen."
"Sirius. When I was thirteen, you sent me a Firebolt when my old broomstick was reduced to splinters by the Whomping Willow." He smiles tightly, remembering the disturbing year, "I kept on thinking you were a Grim, the number of times you popped up."
Sirius' mouth narrows to a thin line, but his hand shakes minutely, "Prove it." He bites out.
Harry draws his wand, calmly ignoring the way his Godfather stiffens at the sight. He casts the first spell that comes to mind.
A patronus.
"A shape-shifter wouldn't be able to do that."
Sirius sucks in a deep, shaky breath. He lowers his hand to stroke the incorporeal flank of the stag patronus. His eyes shine wetly, "I don't understand. I thought- I thought I was…" he trails off- voice shaking.
"It's really me, Sirius."
He drops the spanner on a workbench with a heavy clang. "Oh Merlin." He breathes, and moves towards him in several large steps, "Harry." He says as he throws his arms around him; clutching to him like a drowned man, "Harry."
He wraps his arms around his godfather and breathes in the acrid smell of petrol, engine oil and sweat. He almost takes the scent as alien before he realises he can't even remember what Sirius sounded like- let alone what he'd smelt like. He basks in the embrace until the older man pulls away. Sirius stares at him with concerned, wide eyes, "How did you get here? I'd thought- maybe…" he trails off, swallowing back his emotions, "But when no one came I figured… well. That it wouldn't work a second time, I guess."
Harry sighs, guilt puncturing the feeling of happiness swelling in his chest. He forces out a smile, "We came through the Veil too. A few weeks ago now."
Sirius' eyes glance behind him at where Loki stands- expressionless- and back again, "We?"
"Hermione and I."
His godfather sucks in a sharp breath, "Hermione's here too? Where is she?"
Harry smiles at that, "Not too far away. We've been… separated the past week." He huffs a soft laugh, and shifts nervously on his feet. "She's probably not far behind me. Be prepared for shouting… and maybe crying."
Sirius raises an eyebrow in confusion, "Ummm..."
He sighs again, "It's a long story, and probably not the best kind without her."
"But I don't understand- why are you so young? As far as I could tell, this universe and ours ran in tandem."
He glances behind himself again to the empty opening of the garage. The harsh afternoon light outside is almost blinding. "It's a long story."
Sirius' eyes narrow, "What happened to you, Harry?"
"The War happened."
His eyes widen. A muscle in his neck twitches as he clenches his jaw, "I- I feared that would happen. I tried to get back but I couldn't find-" he breaks off; breathes deeply and collects himself. Harry gets the sense that it's a sensitive topic for his Godfather. "I couldn't find the other Veil to get through. Or wizards… only the ruins of a copy-cat Hogwarts Castle."
He sighs again, "Yeah, we found that too."
They fall into an awkward silence for a time, and Harry smiles. He glances pointedly around himself at the workshop, "So… a mechanic?"
Sirius snorts, "They think I'm a mutant, but I've a talent for bringing engines with a death sentence back to life. Can't bring themselves to care about it when I get the job done. It makes good money." A curl of the lip in amusement, "Working for muggles. My mother would be turning in her grave, the old bitch."
They share a good-natured snicker at that, though it's probably not the nicest of things to laugh about.
"Harry James Potter! I know you're in there- get your arse out here right now!"
He laughs in delight, "Speaking of." He turns away from a bemused Sirius to face the furious Hermione that strides through the garage like she's been there a million times before. He notices in the short seconds before she reaches him that Loki's made himself scarce once again.
Hermione won't be happy about that when she finds out. She falls to a halt in front of him, chest heaving and red-faced.
Crack! She slaps him.
"Jesus Christ!"
"You idiot!" She yells at him; furious, "How could you have let Loki grab you?! I've been worried sick!"
He rubs at his cheek- she'd hit him in the same place Loki had, "I couldn't exactly stop him, Hermione."
Like a switch, the temper disappears, "Oh thank Merlin you're okay!" Her hair is a disaster- frizzed about her head like it has a life of its own. She smiles at him like the world's fallen back into its correct order.
"Hey Hermione." She throws herself at him and he barely manages to suppress the flinch. It had been less than an hour since he'd seen her likeness' limbs shattered. The intimacy feels almost too raw for it all so soon after.
Something must have given himself away, and she pulls back- eyes searching. A hand rises to touch his jaw, turning it this way and that as if she could see through the glamour (and to be fair, she probably could; he hadn't exactly put much effort into it).
"What happened?"
"What did the boggart show you? In third grade."
She frowns in confusion, "What are you-"
"Just answer it Hermione," he grits out, trying to ignore the unnerving symmetry of the situation.
She sighs. Pats his cheek and moves away, "Professor McGonagall. She said I'd failed." Harry relaxes marginally and a spark lights back up in her eyes, "Who did you ask to the Yule ball in fourth year?"
He grins, "Cho Chang. She said no."
Behind him, Sirius snorts. She glares at him for the briefest of moments before the recognition flits across his face, "Oh."
Sirius smiles- it seems strained. "You've gotten old, Hermione."
She raises an eyebrow. "So have you, I see." She nods towards his greying hairline, "Showing your age, don't you think?" He laughs and they embrace. "I'm so glad you're okay."
Sirius swallows, "So am I."
"What happened to you?"
He smiles wryly, "I woke up in a field with a cow staring at me like it was going to eat me. Felt like I'd fallen from a three storey building- had the compound breaks to prove it." He rubs his right arm absentmindedly, "By some miracle, my wand was nearby. Cleaned myself up and a farmer found me- thought he was gonna shoot me. I think he thought I was trying to steal a cow."
"Speaking of stealing," Hermione says sharply, looking around the place- wand in hand, "Where is he? Where's Loki?"
"Er… he was here a moment ago."
She snarls, "I'll kill him. You've been away for over a week Harry- a week! Not even my best tracking spells could find you!"
"Sorry?"
She sighs heavily, "Did you even try to escape?"
"I- yes of course I did!" He fights the guilt at her disappointed question; he could have tried harder, it's true. He could have tried so much harder.
Something must have shown in his face. Her eyes flash dangerously and she opens her mouth to say something sharp-edged and bitter.
Tony chooses that moment to walk in, clueing into the agitation in their voices. "We all good in here, Queenie?" he nods at Harry, "Potter. Glad to see the family psychopath hasn't tried to sharpen his teeth on you."
Sirius' eyes widen, "You're Tony Stark."
"So I am, person I've never met before."
Hermione sighs, 'Tony," she admonishes, but rests a hand on his forearm with a familiarity that speaks volumes. She turns back to Sirius, "Harry and I were found by… colleagues of Tony." Stark snorts.
"That's one way of putting it."
There is a rumbling from outside, "Brother!" a man who can only be Thor cries out, "Where are you, brother?!"
Tony winces, "Kind of running off the assumption that Loki's not here, what with you being alive and all."
Sirius' jaw drops, 'Bloody hell Harry, you still don't do anything by halves, do you?"
"Er… no."
"Steve and Natasha are here too," Hermione says, a slightly uncomfortable look on her face, "They insisted on coming- or, well, Steve did, and Natasha followed."
"As much as a woman like Natasha follows anyone, at any rate." Tony corrects her. She smiles at him; he shifts and looks torn between smiling back and smirking. He takes a step back, "I think you've got this in hand," he says unnecessarily, "I'll leave the three of you be." He leaves, trailing his hand across the white car as he does so.
Sirius watches Tony go with a strange mix of confusion and melancholy on his face, "You know, I never thought I'd get to see the way you collect chaos like old women collect cats again. This universe's James had a son, but he… he wasn't you. Nothing was the same." He huffs a soft laugh, "But I managed it anyway. This whole world was a clean slate for me- well, besides the fact that I don't legally exist." He winks, "It's fun when the tax man comes around."
"Are you-" he breaks off; swallows back the sadness and vulnerability prickling around his eyes, "Are you happy here, Sirius?"
His godfather gives them an odd smile, like he's half happy and half sad. "Yeah I am. I've a good life here. I've a-"
"Dad?" A young voice cuts him off. Harry and Hermione start, "Why are Thor and Ironman outside the shop? I had to- oh." A young boy halts in a doorway at the back of the garage. Harry can immediately see the resemblance between the child and his godfather in the grey eyes, his thick dark hair and the straight line of his nose. He sucks in a shocked breath. The boy looks to be nine or ten years old.
"Dad, are you in trouble?"
Sirius barks out a laugh, "Leo, I'm always in trouble. Your mother makes sure of that." He nods back at the two of them as Leo rolls his eyes, "There are some old friends of mine. They got me out of a tight fix a long, long time ago." His voice softens, "Harry and Hermione saved my life."
The boy does a double take, "What- the Harry and Hermione?" he stares at them in thinly veiled scepticism; a faint frown line forming between his dark brows, "Why's he look so young? And where's the other one- Ron?"
Beside him, Hermione visibly flinches. Harry lays a hand on her arm in comfort. Sirius eyes her cautiously, but smiles at his son all the same. "Mutant powers come in every shape and size, Leo."
Leo nods like it makes perfect sense. Maybe it does. Harry grins at Leo and ignores the pain in his chest at the thought of Ron. "It's good to meet you."
Leo ducks behind his father, suddenly overcome with shyness. Sirius laughs; loud and free like he's been doing it all his life, "What, now you're wiggin' out? They were kids once too, you know."
Leo's cheeks pink, but he edges away from his father to clasp Harry's outstretched hand. He still seems to regard him with some suspicion, "That doesn't explain why Thor and Ironman are outside."
Hermione gives him a strained smile. She doesn't move to shake his hand, "They're friends of ours and decided to come along for the ride."
Leo's eyes widen, "You're friends with the Avengers?" he turns back to Sirius, "Why haven't they come over earlier? Man, wait til the kids at school hear about this- Tyler is going to flip."
Hermione sucks her teeth, "About that. We're kind of trying to keep a low profile, Leo." She crouches to see him at head height. Her voice turns conspiratorial, but genuine. "You have to keep us all a secret. The fate of the world depends on it!"
Leo's eyes widen, a mix of awe and trepidation on his face, "Really?"
"We don't exist, Leo. Only in stories told by your Dad. It's very important- you'll be protecting the world, just like the Avengers."
He grins at them, the shyness now erased. Hermione straightens up, "Did you really fight a dragon? I always thought Da was lying about that one." Harry's eyes flick up to Sirius for guidance. He had no idea how much Leo knew about them- or possibly, what he was. Sirius just winks.
He grins slyly at the young boy, "Your old man's exaggerating there a bit. There was far more running and far less fighting involved, the way I remember it."
The awe grows. Wow, he mouths silently. Harry wonders exactly what kind of stories he's been telling Leo to breed this level of reverence. He looks to his godfather, unsure of what to say in the face of solid proof of the good life he'd made for himself. Never had he imagined Sirius' life would end up anything like this pocket of peacefulness- there'd always been something holding the man back. His chest constricts in happiness and jealous.
They fall into a heavy, awkward silence; Hermione too busy working through a sudden onset of emotion; Harry and Sirius unsure what to say to the person they hadn't seen for seventeen years.
Hermione looks between them and down at Leo. She smiles softly, obviously making a decision. She turns to Leo, "Did you want to meet them?"
"Meet who?"
"The Avengers!"
His eyes look they they're about to pop out of his head, "Hell yes!"
Sirius grimaces, the look of a long-suffering parent on his face, "Language, Leo."
His son rolls his eyes good-naturedly, "Hell's not a swear word Dad, it's a place."
"Uh-huh, and has that defense ever worked on your mother?"
He pouts, "… No."
"Then don't go trying it on me."
"Whatever."
Hermione leads the boy away with a reassuring- if amused- smile and Harry and Sirius are left alone again in the relative silence of the shop.
"A son, huh?"
Sirius laughs through his nose, "Yea. I met Carina a few months after I got here. I- ah…" he chuckles and scratches the back of his head sheepishly, "I still hadn't gotten the hang of the roads being all wrong here- got hit by a car when I was getting some milk. It wasn't too serious-" he amends before Harry can say anything, "Just a few broken bones and some gravel rash. Someone called an ambulance before I had a chance to do anything, and before I knew it I'm in a hospital with both my arms in casts.
"Carina was one of the nurses on my ward." He grins widely, "I somehow managed to convince her to go on a date with me… and eventually marriage."
He fights down the flash of envy, ""I guess you got everything you could have wanted, huh?"
Sirius bites his lip, eyes sliding to the side, "Well, maybe not everything I wanted. But I found everything I needed."
"I'm glad. Leo seems like good kid."
"Yeah, he's pretty great." Silence falls again. Sirius regards him with his grey eyes, "So… you haven't aged."
"Uh, yeah." Harry shifts uncomfortably, "You heard about the Deathly Hallows?" his godfather nods, "Well, they're real. We collected them in the height of the war- never realized their true significance. They… fused with me. Paused me in a state of perpetual teenagerdom."
He winces, "Tough break, kid."
"Tell me about it. It's impossible for me to get a drink now."
Sirius twirls a spanner between his fingers, "So. You and Hermione are welcome to stay for dinner. Carina's cooking tonight, so you're guaranteed to have food that's not burnt or tasteless."
Harry grins, "That would be great."
"I would invite the rest of your crew… but I'm pretty sure we couldn't afford to feed Stark- let alone the rest of them"
He laughs, thinking back to the obscene amounts of food Thor and Steve could put away in a single sitting, "They shouldn't mind."
Probably.
They walk outside to find Thor and Steve laughing heartily like they hadn't come along to ensure Loki didn't make trouble again. Leo is perched on Thor's shoulders and cackling like a maniac.
Sirius grins at the sight, "Wrapped around his little finger already, the suckers." He remarks to Harry. Hermione watches from the sidelines with Natasha- hand resting lightly against her opposite forearm; ready for the moment things go pear shaped. She glances at them briefly as they walk over.
The other wizard sucks in a breath of surprise beside him as he realizes exactly who the rest of Harry's retrieval party are, "Blood hell. I know she said the Avengers, but this is almost all of them."
Natasha's eyes slide over to them at the expletive, face impassive. Harry can tell she's wondering what he's going to do next. Steve on the other hand smiles at the two of them, wide and bright like the sun. He moves to clasp Harry's arm; his palm is warm and callused, "Harry! It's good to see that you're okay. We were worried." He pulls away, eyeing him with fresh concern, "You are okay, aren't you? With Loki… it can't have been easy."
He gives Steve a reassuring smile, "Yeah I'm good."
The line of Steve's shoulders seem to relax slightly, and he turns to eye Sirius curiously, "You're Harry's godfather, aren't you? Sirius Black? I've heard good stories about you."
They shake hands, "Well, so long as they're all good."
Steve smiles, but there's something almost melancholic hiding in the corners of his eyes, "They are." He looks between the two of them, "But I reckon you three will want to catch up."
Harry smiles at the super-soldier, "Is that okay?"
"Yeah, we'll just find a diner."
"Thank-you"
Thor sets Leo down with a pointed look from Steve- only a little disappointed. They share a high-five and he wonders absentmindedly who took the time to teach him that, "It has been a delight meeting you, young Leo. I pray we meet again soon."
"Totally man. You're like, the coolest." Thor beams in an oddly childish way.
Beside them, Tony pouts.
They withdraw, with well-wishes and smiles from the others. Tony grumbles sulkily.
The four of them stand outside the shop- Leo waving exuberantly to Thor. Hermione raises an eyebrow at the slightly awkward silence that follows- once again.
"So…" She says, rubbing at her bad arm self-consciously, "I hear there was dinner?"
So... I feel like A LOT of people are either going to be really happy, or really mad at me for that. But really, it's been 17 years- at some point, I'm sure he would have settled down and found someone. Sirius is a bit of a charmer, after all. And I had been tossing up whether to name his son Harry, but then decided it would be kind of weird, and so I chose to go down the star/constellation route. Be aware though, that I don't plan on making Sirius a major player in this story line; he does, after all, have his own life, and family, so it doesn't make sense for him to uproot everything for a person he only knew for about two years. Godson or not.
And holy cow; the latter half of this chapter? Super awkward to write. Like, pulling teeth kind of awkward. Soooo painful. So I hope it's okay, but I really wanted this chapter out of the way. There's only one more chapter left to part two, and then it's on to part three!
So, I hope everyone enjoyed this! Hopefully, I'll be able to slip back into the fortnightly updates- I have an exam next Monday, but then I'm on holidays, so I'll have far more time to write.
Later! Please review! It's really awesome to get feedback!
Ciao!