"There's a man teleporting around New York," Stark said without further ado.
Nick considered forgiving him for calling at 4am.
"Right," he said. "Can you send me the footage?"
"Already on it," Stark said. "I wonder what we should call him? Scotty?"
Nick pinched the bridge of his nose and hung up. The footage came through instantly, a collage of CCTV cameras that had caught each of the man's jumps between locations. He jumped three times before a camera seemed to catch his eye. The man stared at it for a long moment, before an expression of annoyance crossed his face — it looked like he'd realised there was a chance he was being recorded. He then turned on one foot and teleported again; that was the last of the footage.
"Damn it all to hell," Nick muttered to himself. There was a possibility this was a Gifted, one that was newly discovering his powers, but the man had teleported with the confidence of one that knew exactly what he was doing, implying that he'd done it several times before. Nick had never seen anyone with that type of power before. Perhaps another Asgardian? It would tie in with the electrical disturbance over the Bermuda Triangle.
"Yes sir?" Even in the early hours of the morning Phil sounded remarkably well put together.
"I've got a lead for you to follow up on. Meet in your office, ASAP," Nick said.
Harry could have cursed himself when he'd spotted the camera. He'd been Apparating around New York with impunity, checking for where he knew the American magical communities to be in his other world and he'd found nothing. Just after Apparating to an ally outside the Woolworth building he'd noticed the camera. He Apparated straight back to the flat he was renting and barely resisted throwing his wand at the floor in irritation.
Instead, he made himself a cup of tea and sat down to think. So, he'd appeared on camera and undoubtedly someone would notice sooner or later. The government would get hold of it and there was even a chance Phil would see it. If his mind was strong enough, he may even be able to break Harry's memory charm.
"You're a fucking moron, Potter," he said to himself. He'd been so used to the Bahamas, where security cameras were non-existent and most of the locals still believed in voodoo if he showed off any strange behaviours that he'd forgotten cities had things like CCTV.
Phil stared at the screen before him. "I know this man," he said and then grimaced, rubbing at his eyes. A splitting headache had come out of nowhere after he'd stared at the screen.
"What?" Nick barked. Phil winced at the sound and pinched the bridge of his nose. Harry was swimming on the screen and there was a strange pounding in his ears.
Phil blinked and the ground rushed up to meet him, the world fading to black.
He awoke to medics fussing over him. He groaned and brushed them away. Nick was standing over him, arms crossed.
"How you feeling?" he growled. Phil pushed himself to his feet, straightening the cuffs on his suit and tried to get his mind in order.
"Fine, fine. There's something… something I have to tell you," Phil said and shook his head. "I just can't remember…"
Suddenly, the events in the Caribbean came to him – unaltered.
"That son of a bitch!" he cried. Phil stalked forward and yanked the screen toward him, zooming in on Harry's face. "This – this is the man who helped me in the Caribbean, when none of the local skippers would take me out to the origins of our wormhole."
He turned to Nick. "He's also the one that came through it."
Harry debated leaving New York. Muggle facial recognition was good, but it wouldn't think to look for him in London, or Paris, or Tokyo. But, damnit, he'd promised himself he'd explore each country as he got to it and leaving for another city felt like running away.
Besides, whatever agency that had been searching for him hadn't been actively hostile, at least not yet.
And it wasn't as if he couldn't deal with hostile entities, anyway.
"Agent Coulson, this is, frankly, worrying. The teleportation is one thing, but combined with the ability to remove memories, compel the truth, and physically incapacitate someone, we've got a major player on our hands."
Phil stood aside as several junior agents scurried around, jumping at Nick's every growl as they performed various tasks geared toward finding and detaining Harry.
"Sir," he begun tiredly. "Harry wasn't hostile, beyond the limits of my interrogation, and while he's certainly dangerous, I don't actually think he's a threat."
"What are you saying?" Nick asked.
"If – when – you find him, let me talk to him first. Approach him like we would an acquisition."
Fury strode toward him and spoke in a tone low enough to guarantee no one else would be able to hear.
"You don't have to do this, Phil. He's already assaulted you once."
"In the mildest possible manner," Phil reminded him. Harry had even ensured that he'd caught Phil before he'd hit the ground. "I can do this. Besides, I think Harry rather liked me."
"Hmpf," Nick said. His gaze was indecipherable. "Permission granted. Now go get some rest!"
Harry sauntered out of the alley he'd Apparated into and winked at the nearest CCTV camera. Just down the road was a diner that made excellent pancakes. He got a corner booth and sat with his back to the wall, in line of sight of both exits, and sipped his coffee.
Forty minutes later, Phil walked in. Harry grinned, unsurprised, and waved at the other man, whose eyes narrowed when he caught sight of him.
"Mr Potter?" Phil said. "That's your name, isn't it, at least according to the documentation you used in the Bahamas?"
Harry gestured to the other side of the booth.
"Harry Potter, at your service. Take a seat, Phil. Coffee?" He motioned the waitress over. "How are you? I hope you've not got too bad of a headache."
He touched a hand to his pouch and a Mulpepper's Miracle Cure for Malicious Migraines jumped into his hand. He offered the potion vial and Phil took it warily.
"It's like aspirin, but better," Harry explained. Phil tucked it away into his jacket pocket. Harry followed the movement with his eyes and bit back a snort of laughter. Of course the man wasn't going to take it. Instead, Harry suspected there would be a team of SHIELD scientists slaving over it in a very short amount of time.
"Thank you," Phil said. He looked calm, composed. Harry was glad to see him and chose not to examine that thought with too much depth.
"I don't believe I had the opportunity to properly introduce myself, before." Phil withdrew a thin black wallet from his pocket, flipping it open to reveal a circular badge with an emblem of an eagle clipped to one side and an identification card on the other. "My name is Special Agent Phil Coulson and I work for SHIELD, which I believe you're already aware of."
Harry grinned. "Special Agent," he echoed. He noted that Phil's clearance was Level 7. The higher the clearance level, the more important the agent. Harry was certain that Phil was not just an average SHIELD lackey.
"I am very sorry for what I did in the Bahamas," Harry said. "I'd hoped to enter this world and go unnoticed." He snorted and glanced up at the CCTV camera in the corner. "I'd not accounted for how technologically advanced this world would be."
"Why did you hope to go unnoticed?" Phil said. "What plans do you have for this world that require such stealth?"
Harry frowned and sipped his coffee. "Plans?" he asked. Phil stared steadily back at him.
Two hundred years, a whole other world, and yet Harry still managed to get himself painted as some sort of Dark Lord. All he'd done was take a bloody holiday on the beach.
"Why would I have plans for this world?" he retorted, but didn't bother playing naive. "Time passes, but some things never change. Look Phil, I'll be honest with you, all I want is to explore a world and not be tormented for being who I am. I suppose that's too much to ask." He huffed. "It always was."
"No world domination, then?" Phil asked.
Harry narrowed his eyes, until the corner of Phil's mouth twitched. "You're messing with me."
Phil shrugged. "It's as I told my boss. You're dangerous, but not a danger."
Harry sat back, regarding the man before him. "You know, you're the first person I've met in a long while able to make such a distinction."
Some of his old friends had, but most of the wizarding world had enjoyed fear mongering far too much to try to think beyond what the papers told them. Yet, here was a man who had little reason to trust him, and he was able to identify exactly what Harry tried to explain each and every time he'd been accused of being a danger to others.
Without thinking too much about it, lest he doubt himself, Harry cast a gentle, non-obtrusive spell over Phil. It would alert him should the other man be in mortal danger; it was the least Harry could do for what was about to happen next.
"I like you, Phil," Harry said. "You seem like a decent guy. Don't compromise your morals, not for anyone."
A flicker of bewilderment crossed Phil's face. "Thanks," he said. "Sure."
Harry smirked. "Now, you may want to close your eyes."
"What?" Phil asked. He tensed, hand sneaking down to what was likely a gun holster.
"Well," Harry said, gazing around the diner and frowning. "My pancakes have taken an awful long time to arrive."