I mean, the title is kind of self-explanatory, is it not?

Part Three: In Which

Chapter Ten: Shit Gets Real

Harry gets a message from Tony three and a half hours after Hermione leaves.

Fury dead. Unknown assassin. will keep you posted.

His blood runs cold, and he stares at the text in disbelief.

Fury was dead?

It's… surreal. Director Fury was an imposing man who gave off an air of strength that made it hard to believe he could ever die.

He pulls up Tony's number with hands that betray nothing, "Harry."

"Tony. What happened?"

A sigh from across the line, "I don't know- SHIELD's being very hush hush about the whole thing- I'm looking into it. Steve says it was some guy with a metal arm but he didn't seem to know much more than that."

Harry swallows, "What does that-what does this mean for us? Fury was one of the few who knew about us, right?"

"Yeah. I'm trying to get a hold of Hill, but in typical SHIELD fashion, no one's saying anything."

"When did it happen?"

"Uh- about two hours ago."

"Two- and you didn't think to say anything earlier?"

Tony makes an irritated sound and Harry hears a muted clatter in the background, "No offense, Greenbean, but you're not exactly my first priority. You're at work- it didn't seem to apply to you. Which- hm… yeah. In hindsight, might have been an oversight."

"You don't say. Tony, he was one of the few people who actually knew about us."

"Look, you'll be fine for now. Semi-illegal aliens or not, you're the least of SHIELD's concerns for at least the next forty-eight hours. We'll worry about that when they come a'knockin'. If they come a'knockin'."

Harry sighs heavily- rubs at his face and turns to face the doors, "So, what do we do?"

"For now? Act normal. As far as I can tell, none of this is related to us… so, do your shift, come back when it's done. But keep an eye out- you see any shifty characters you'd best get the hell out of dod-" over the phone Harry hears a muted crash and a curse from Tony, "Dammit Dum-E! I swear to Gods one of these days I'm turning you into scrap metal!"

Harry puffs out his cheeks, eyeing the empty store with just the slightest touch of paranoia.

Another crash. Tony curses again, "Crap. Look, I gotta go- something's up with the bots. I need to sort them out before they start breaking things that can't be replaced. Call me when you finish."

"Wait, Tony-!"

But he's already hung up. He groans in frustration. He's half tempted to pettily throw the phone at the wall, but it would just be a pointless waste. He pulls out his phone and sends a text to Steve, but he doesn't really expect a reply. Though they kept in touch regularly, Steve's replies were often sporadic and unreliable- sometimes he'd get immediate replies- other times several hours (sometimes days). Harry wasn't much better, for all his apparent aimlessness. If the man was in any involved in this whole thing with Fury, it was unlikely Steve would answer any time soon.

Harry soldiers on through his shift, the stirrings of unease in his gut seeming to ramp up with every hour that passes and the customers are less charming than he usually finds them. For once he finds himself not playing the role of surly teenager, getting sullen and tetchy with them without meaning to. Even so, the night eventually ends, and then he's passing the shift over to Andy- the morning guy- with a hasty wave and a promise to see him later.

The moment he's on the streets, he's calling Tony again. It's dark out, and at two am, there's no one on the streets bar him and the stray cat that always gives him the evil eye.

Tony picks up after the fifth ring.

"Harry."

"Tony. Any news?"

The billionaire huffs over the line, "Nothing of use, SHIELD reports an unidentified sniper, unmarked rounds. Steve was present at the time of the assassination. He pursued, but failed to catch them- and honestly that in and of itself is enough to raise a few brows. But otherwise the SHIELD files are void of anything of use. It's fascinating, really. I didn't think they were capable of being that slipshod about anything; I suppose they're in shock."

Harry hums, "I just finished up. I'll be back in a moment."

He pictures Tony waving his arms dismissively, "Yeah, alright."

He hangs up and slides the phone back into his pocket, slipping into his usual apparition point (not that what he did these days could really be called apparition, but it was a habit he couldn't be bothered shaking)- a small barricaded alcove that houses the employee bathrooms. He double checks to make sure no one sees him, before turning on the spot and disappearing silently.

He ends up in Tony's workshop, and it's a testament to how often they've done this that Tony doesn't so much as twitch at his arrival. He's bent over the inner workings if U, muttering and doing things to it with tools Harry doesn't even know how to name. Dum-E hovers behind him anxiously.

"Everything okay?" he asks cautiously.

"Everything," Tony grunts in reply, "is just hunky-dory."

Harry raises a brow in disbelief. That is not the reply of a man who's having the time of his life (not to mention, the inventor was awake a two in the morning. Not the best of signs). He jumps up to sit on a stretch of usually clear bench space, "You sure about that? You seem on edge."

Tony looks to send him a baleful glare. Harry takes not of the bags beneath his eyes. It's entirely possible the older man hasn't slept in several days, "Fury is dead; SHIELD has no idea who-dunnit; Queenie's giving me the cold shoulder and the bots have been playing up all night- no, Butterfingers, I don't want another smoothie- for the love of God stop before I stop you!"

Harry frowns, but accepts the smoothie Butterfingers tries to offload to him, looking sad and dejected. It's an unattractive grey-green, as though it has grease mixed in it- a tentative sniff confirms his suspicions and he sets it down beside him as the robot trundles away contentedly.

Then he catches up with what Tony had said.

"Wait- what was that about Hermione? She's giving you the cold shoulder?"

"Yes," Tony fumes, and closes the access port on U with more force than is truly necessary, "We had an argument and she stormed off."

"… When was this?"

Tony sighs and rests his forehead tiredly against the bench, "Dinner time. Or earlier. I don't know."

Harry bites his lip, confused, "But she wasn't angry when she swung by the store. That's-"

'-Are you saying she went to go see you?" he asks, straightening up again.

Harry nods slowly, "Well, yeah. You didn't know?"

Tony shakes his head, "She enacted privacy mode in the Tower and runescaped her phone. I've had no idea where she is since she left."

Harry frowns, "I didn't know she was back on the old prototype." Hermione had finally cracked the phone issue months ago and moved onto newer and shinier models as soon as she was able. Protection runes weren't necessary on any of the phones she made now.

The genius hums, "She broke the Mark IV a couple of days ago- had to go back to the Mark II while she worked on a replacement. But that's not important," he waves his hands dismissively, "what's important, is that she went to see you, and she wasn't mad."

He shakes his head, "I didn't think so. But that was like, three hours before you even called,"

Tony's frowning now, eyes glancing off to the side and fixating on Harry's discarded smoothie, "Okay," he says slowly, "then maybe she's-"

And then the lights cut out.

The workshop is deathly silent for a long moment, the shock and disbelief an almost tangible sensation. Harry feels like the earth has shifted beneath him and he feels only a shaky uncertainty as Tony erupts into violent cussing. He hears a loud peal of sound as something metal his the floor. More curses follow it. The darkness is absolute, but for the muted glow of Tony's arc reactor.

"What-" his voice almost breaks. He clears his throat and tracks the jerky, phrenetic movements of Tony's reactor. Licks his lips nervously, "what just happened?"

"The power's fucking gone!" Tony snarls, "Jarvis, status report!"

The silence is ominous.

"Jarvis!" Tony growls. A hint of apprehension creeps into his voice, "Jarvis, what the fuck happened to the power?"

The AI remains conspicuously quiet. Harry belatedly realises that he is in fact a wizard, and creates a ball of light to illuminate the room. Both of them wince at the sudden brightness.

"How could the power even go out?" call it ignorance, or wishful thinking, but Harry had always thought of the tower as a changeless, untouchable monument, guarded by the sardonic AI. Things like this just didn't happen.

"It can't. The tower's powered by an arc reactor. It doesn't just stop working- and if it ever did, Jarvis would have noticed the problem before it could even become one!"

"But if the power's out, how could he-"

"You think I wouldn't have a back-up system or three?" Tony snarls, almost incredulous. Harry would be offended were it not for the disquieting look of panic and anger on his face, "Fuck, but even my back-ups have back-ups. Jarvis is hooked up to several power supplies, on the odd, off chance something happened to the reactor. He should still fucking be here!"

He curses and turns away to rummage around the closes bench frantically and makes a soft noise of triumph when he finds a tablet. The screen illuminates his face, like a child about to tell a horror story. He's silent a moment, fingers tapping before his eyes widen at something on the screen, "Shit."

"What?"

"Cell service is down. Fuck. This is bad. This is very much not good."

Harry pulls out his phone. Sure enough, the little symbol in the corner is showing no signal. He sets the expensive piece of technology down on the bench, "So something's happened to our cell access, and Jarvis has gone AWOL. But that's- shouldn't that be impossible?"

Tony types madly away at the tablet, "Anything can be hacked, theoretically. In practice though? Shouldn't happen. Jarvis isn't just piece of programming- he's the most advanced AI in the world. Someone'd have to be more than a prodigy to get past him."

Harry opens his mouth to say something, then closes it. Thinks better of it, "What do you want me to do?"

Tony stops what he's doing. Stares blankly at the flat piece of electronics in his hands.

"Tony," Harry reiterates softly. The inventor looks up at him. He looks torn, "Tony, what do we need to do?"

He glances back down at the tablet and nods once- to himself "I need you to wake up Malfoy and Barton- quickly, use you magic stuff. And then I need you to get Bruce out of here. If the Tower's under attack, the last thing any of us want is him hulking out. Crap- this is so not the time for Thor to be off with Jane."

Harry frowns, "But wouldn't he want to be here? He's a part of the team."

The older man shakes his head, tucking the tablet under his arm and making his way over to a wall, "No. Not in this kind of scenario- it's too risky. This was one of his plans, anyway."

"But what if-"

"Christ, Potter! Just send him there with a portkey. If he wants to come back- or we need him, then he can just magic himself back here!"

He closes his mouth. There is wisdom to be found in that order, though it rubs him the wrong way. Harry sends a patronus to Malfoy and Clint, with a message to get themselves here as quickly as possible. And isn't it strange, but he'd never thought he'd see the day where he was relieved to have Malfoy in the Tower for once. They'd gone a long way from their time in the beginning, but their interactions remained terse and stilted.

A thought occurs to him and he stops mid-motion, about to leave, "If we're under attack, how easily are they going to get in here? Without Jarvis and the power, we're dead in the water."

Tony shakes his head from where he's prying open a piece of the wall with a crowbar, "We'll be okay for a while yet- the moment the power fails the tower goes into lockdown. It's not as comprehensive as it would have been with Jarvis, but no one's coming in or out of here without magic or at the very least, a plasma cutter. Goddammit, why did I insist on keeping the armour behind a secret door?" He pushes hard against the lever and the door finally gives. He gives a cry of triumph, "The bastards waited until late- makes sense. Most people aren't going to be around, and those that are should be asleep. But how did they disable Jarvis?"

"How long?"

"An hour. I hope. There are a lot of floors between us and the ground. Less, if they have a copter."

Harry swallows, "Let's hope they don't." The glint of red and gold behind the secret door sparks him into action, and he apparates straight into Bruce's apartments before the snarling inventor can reply. He's been here once- months ago (just after Christmas)- but not terribly much has changed since then. His television's moved to another wall, but the shelves crammed with books are as orderly as ever, and his kitchen seems to house mostly empty mugs and fruit. The living area is dark- hardy a surprise.

"Bruce?" he calls out, unwilling to wake him unannounced, "Bruce?"

There's no answer. Harry hopes he won't react badly to being awoken, and hovers uncertainly behind the only door he can hear a soft snoring from. He knocks, hard. The snoring cuts off abruptly. Harry knocks again, "Bruce? You awake?"

There's a muted groan, "I-I am now."

Harry sighs, "You'd best get dressed. We've a situation."

"A situation?" the sound of rustling and a drawer opening and closing, "Hm- the light's not turning on."

He cringes, "The power's out."

"But that's impossible! What about-"

"-Jarvis is down too. We're dead in the water."

A prolonged silence. The door opens abruptly and Bruce stares at him with wide and very-much-awake eyes, "Jarvis is down?"

Harry ruthlessly quells the urge to pat down the other man's helplessly tousled hair- it looks so soft and- no. Shit. He should have gone to bed twenty minutes ago, "Yeah. Someone's attacking the tower."

Bruce sucks in a harsh breath, "But-"

"I'm here to get you out of here. And we need to leave. Like, five minutes ago."

His expression hardens and he turns around, pulling a battered duffle bag out from under his bed and opening it on the crumple bed spread. Harry's surprised. He'd half expected the scientist to argue with him.

"Is there- is there somewhere for me to take you?"

Bruce glances up from inspecting his bag, "Yeah. There's a cabin that I've used before. It's secure."

"Can you show me?" he asks, motioning tentatively to his head. Harry's aware that most of the people he lives with are wary of mind magic- with good reason. But with Jarvis down, and any chance of internet access out of the picture, it's the easiest way, and Harry needs to at least see where they're going.

"How?" Bruce asks, puzzled by the gesture.

"You just… think of the place," Bruce's eyes widen in realisation, "A memory of it. Keep it in your head, and I can just… pull it out. Like this." Harry demonstrates, thinking of the last customer he'd served at work, and pulls the memory from his head with his wand. Bruce stares at the silvery thread, mouth ajar. Harry gives him what he hopes is a reassuring smile, "No mind reading necessary, and I only see what you want me to see."

He lets go of the memory and the thread snaps back into place. Bruce swallows, and nods warily, "Yeah. Yeah, okay."

Harry smiles, "Kay. Just think about the place, and I can do the rest." He nods again and closes his eyes, visualising the safehouse, "Now, I'm just going to touch my wand to your head. You won't feel anything more than a slight tugging."

Bruce frowns, blowing out hard through his nose at the sensation, "That is weird."

"Yup." Harry agrees as he plants the memory in his own head, "Learnt that from my old auror days."

Daylight. A dam lined with reeds and a small cabin, lace blinds drawn tight and close. A garden, on the verge of abandonment and a line of mountains in the distance. Pine forest all around.

Harry opens his eyes, smiling, "Thanks." He offers his arm, "Are you ready?"

Bruce nods again, and clasps his outstretched arm. Harry apparates them away before he can say anything, and they pop into existence on the overgrown stone path that leads to the cabin. The grass is knee-high in some places, and though it's dark, Harry can tell that no one has been here for at least a month, the long grass pristine and untouched.

Beside him, Bruce lets out a shaky breath, "I don't think I'm ever going to get used to that."

Harry gives him a tight smile, "You would. Eventually."

The older man huffs a soft laugh and places his palm on the door. Harry hears the lock click and the door opens. Bruce shuffles inside, but Harry hovers in the doorway.

"I should- I should get going."

Bruce looks up from where he's dumping his bag on the couch. He gives Harry a smile that's closer to a grimace, "Go. It's best I stay out of this- whatever this is."

Harry nods, and transfigures two wooden bracelets- one white, one black- from the branch of an overgrown hedge before he can forget. He spells both of them into portkeys, "Here," he walks into the cabin and sets them on an exposed shelf in the kitchen, "the white one will take you back to the tower. The black one will take you to Hogwarts. If this place is compromised."

Bruce swallows, but raises a brow all the same, "Is that a possibility?"

He shrugs, "Who knows?" he turns around, hovering at the door once again, "You'll be okay?"

"Fine. There's no one around for miles, and the shelves are all stocked with plenty of food."

Harry nods, "See if you can get a hold of Steve or Natasha, let them know about the Tower. Thor too, if you can. I've a feeling we're going to need them." The other man nods, and he closes the door behind him. Takes a fortifying breath of crisp, clean air, before apparating back to the tower. Clint and Malfoy have joined Tony- who by now has managed to get himself into his armour. He comes in halfway through an argument.

"There is no best case scenario! Jarvis is down, Barton! Shit like that doesn't happen unless someone- someone with very, very good tech, I might add- is out to get us!"

Harry purses his lips. Whatever was happening had Tony on a serious edge- he's twitchier than he'd been when he left for Bruce- even in the suit, "What's the status?" He asks firmly, the steel in his voice cutting through their argument. Clint and Tony turn to him, Clint's hand twitching momentarily to the sidearm at his hip. His bow rests on a bench in easy reach.

Tony licks his lips anxiously, "Bruce is safe?"

"As much as he can be."

The genius sighs, "Okay. Okay, that's good."

Harry nods, "What's the deal? What's happening?"

Tony bares his teeth in an unsettling mix of a grimace and a snarl, "It's Hammer."

"Hammer?" Harry asks, incredulous, "The idiot who tried to rip-off your tech? I thought he was in prison. All his stocks were liquidated."

"He is! They were!"

Harry rubs his face, "How do we know this?"

Tony picks up a tablet and thrusts it in his face, "I managed to hook up a couple of older systems- Malfoy helped- and re-route the power to a couple of miniaturized arc reactors. We've only got basic video feed, but right now I'll take what we can get." Harry squints at the images on the tablet- taps at one of the rectangles and the image fills the screen. He sucks at his teeth at the mass of men in black tac gear swamping the foyer of the tower. He taps again and the image zooms in, focussing on the breast of one of the men. A blurry triangle is embroidered on the material, the name HAMMER only just legible.

"But this isn't right! Hammer's a hack! His work's always been slipshod and half-assed- never mind that he doesn't have nearly the skills to even touch Jarvis- let alone bring him down!" It's clear that suit or not, Tony is having a minor freak out. Harry's never seen him so unsettled before.

"So Hammer has someone good on his side," Malfoy says slowly, "And we'll deal with that when we get to it. But right now, our focus should be on the mass of armed men downstairs, and what it is they actually want."

Harry nods, knowing exactly what Malfoy is thinking, "We need to think of the possibility that they're after us."

Tony shakes his head emphatically, but Clint has a considering look in his eye, "No. That doesn't make sense- what would Hammer want a trio of magic-users? That's too proactive for him. Poorly thought out revenge is more his forte-"

"Not if he's working for someone else, it isn't." Clint says quietly, "You said it yourself- this is out of his league. Attacking the tower? Shutting down Jarvis? That's the big leagues, and not something he could have executed from prison. But if he's working for someone? Then he's just a means to an end."

Tony looks like he doesn't want to believe it, "But no one knows about the three of you but Fury and Hill. In all the ways that count, at any rate."

"They're not the only ones," says Draco. "The people who picked me up- the first time, when I landed- they knew what I was. And there were plenty of people who saw me, or Potter. None of this is as clean cut as you'd like to think it is."

Clint's eyes narrow, "Fury's unlikely to have sent anyone he didn't have full trust in. What were their names?"

Malfoy frowns- with his sharp, pointy features it's like his whole is splitting in two, "I can't remember- Carson? Cawson?" the frown grows deeper, "Dawson? No, I'm pretty sure it started with a C-"

"Coulson." A pale-faced Clint offers. Eyes wide. Malfoy snaps his fingers in satisfaction.

"That's it! And his henchman, Ward." He scowls, "Ward shot me."

Clint shakes his head angrily, and turns to kick a wheelie chair viciously, "Fuck!" he snarls, as the chair crashes into a bench.

Harry glances questioningly at Tony, but he looks equally furious, "Who's Coulson? Is he a traitor?"

"Coulson," Clint says with barely restrained rage, "Was Fury's right hand man, and Nat and I's handler. He was also pegged to become coordinator for the Avengers Initiative. Right up to the point where Loki speared him through the heart and killed him. Or at least, that's what Fury told us- fuck!" He looks ready to shoot something.

"Someone's been telling porkies," Malfoy says snidely, a brow arched pointedly.

Clint growls, "I saw his body! I went to his fucking funeral! Phil was dead."

"And apparently now he's not! I think we're getting off topic here," Harry says finally, unwilling to let this trainwreck of a conversation continue when there are more pressing issues at hand. "You can eviscerate Coulson all you like post crisis. Right now, all we need to know is that our secret's not nearly as secret as we thought it was, and there's a very good likelihood that we're paying for that oversight now. And I don't doubt for a second that this is connected to whoever killed Fury; Hammer's logo or not."

He points at the tablet, "Tony I think you need to contemplate the possibility that they're using Hammer as a means to get you riled up and cocky. So you-" he stabs at Tony's shielded chest with a finger, "need to remember that whoever's behind this, brought down Jarvis." The expression on the other man's face grows darker, "Whatever they want, they're determined enough to lay siege on the Avengers Tower to get it, and they've already proven that they're plenty smart enough to get the job done. Do not forget that."

Tony reluctantly nods his acknowledgement and Harry inwardly breathes a sigh of relief, "We need a plan of attack, and we need it fast 'cause I somewhat doubt their only point of contact is going to be the foyer."

And, as if the gods of chaos were listening in, ready to accentuate that fact, the tower is rocked by the muted roar of an explosion only a few floors above them.

"Fuck." Harry says eloquently as concrete dust falls on them like fine ash.

Dum-E falls over in fright.

And so ends part three.

Did people see Hammer coming? I mean, I thought I made it pretty obvious, I suppose, but no one ever said anything about it...

[Alternative ending to this fic:

"Well hey," Malfoy says, arms folded across his chest, "At least they're not-"

"Don't say it!" Clint all but shouts. Malfoy stares at him as if he's gone mad, "Don't say it! You'll jinx it."

"I wasn't going to-"

"Yes you were! I could see it in your face, you were going to say at least we're safe up here for now- ah, shit."

Malfoy and Tony give the archer an eerily similar look of contempt.

An explosion sounds somewhere to their right, shaking the foundations.

Clint buries his head in his hands, "I hate my life." ]

So, people are either going to hate me or love me from here on in. Possibly both.

Come check me out on instagram/tumblr/AO3 if you want! I'm all under the same: AO3 has another fic that's not here on FFN, and tumblr has a few drabbles that aren't on either (ie a Dungeons and Dragons and Avengers thing I've been working on and off on), plus artworks!

Please review!