The exposed beams and glass walls of Pierce's home were a taunt to all his guests, whether they knew it or not. Look how transparent I am, they said. Ha. Little did they know.

Jasper rang the doorbell and was let in by a maid whose name he didn't bother to learn. When the click of shoes on wood flooring drew near, he straightened his tie and withdrew the dossier he'd been asked to put together.

"Agent Sitwell, a pleasure to have you here," Pierce said, stepping into view in a grey three-piece suit. He smiled, although his eyes remained as dead as always.

Sure, a pleasure. Nobody thought it was a pleasure to host Jasper, not even his own family. The lies these politicians fucking spun.

"The files, as you requested, Mr Secretary," Jasper said, keeping his expression bland. Everything about him was bland, cultivated to be so. He was boring, an average agent, in an average suit. If only he'd been born John Smith, he'd blend right in with the furniture.

"Thank you, Agent Sitwell. What an intriguing set of skills Mr Potter has…"

Upon Tony's return to his workshop in New York, he was greeted by a well-furnished terrarium.

"I took the liberty of placing an order for some gut-loaded crickets," Jarvis announced as he entered. "Just in case you get a craving for them."

"Oh, Jarvis, buddy, you're really asking to be donated to a CIA server farm," Tony said, narrowing his eyes at the enclosure. "I never raised you to be so cold-hearted. Mocking my plight. The mean wizard transformed me into a frog and you didn't even throw up an alarm."

"I judged the likelihood of him leaving you in such a form to be less than five percent. However, the greater the fuss, the greater the chance he'd flee without changing you back at all."

"Smugness ill suits you," Tony said, lips twitching on the edge of a smile. He beckoned at a desk, drawing up a holographic screen.

"I disagree."

"No surprises there. Now, start compiling all the readings we took while I was starring in my own personal production of Pride and Prejudice. Potter performed at least three different types of energy manipulation while I was there."

"Already on it, sir. May I suggest a full body scan to ensure the wizard transformed you back entirely."

Tony opened his mouth to disagree, then glanced at the terrarium as the shine of an overhead light reflected off the glass. It wasn't everyday that one got transformed into a frog.

"Do it, J." Next time, perhaps he could request to be turned into a cat… or a falcon… or a platypus.

"So, Phil was looking for me?" Harry asked, prompting Steve to continue his story of what he'd been up to before he found Harry.

"Sure. Mad as hell at Fury about how he's handled this whole thing, too," Steve said around a mouthful of biriyani. There was a pause and he looked down at his plate, piled with Indian takeaway. "This just might be the best thing I've ever eaten."

After Tony had departed for the States, claiming he'd be missed if he were absent for long, Harry had invited Steve to stay with him for a few days. They were in Harry's rental flat in Clapham and Harry had realised that he'd yet to broaden Steve's horizons beyond Italian and roast dinners.

"Just you wait until we get Thai," Harry promised. He ate an onion bhaji. It was delicious, spice and salt and exactly as crispy as he liked. "Did you tell him where I was?"

"No! No…" Steve frowned. "Look, Harry, I know I screwed up before. I don't plan on doing it again. You'll have to let me prove that to you, I guess."

Harry nodded. "The proof is in the pudding."

Steve snorted. "Sure. Well, this pudding will show you that they're not the type to make the same mistakes twice."

"I'll hold you to that," Harry said. "You know, it's been a while since I pestered Phil. Maybe I should go visit him."

"Do you even know where he is?"

Harry frowned and concentrated on the spells he'd layered on Phil. "35.0110° North, 115.4734° West." It took him a moment to consider where that was in practical terms. "California. I'll be able to narrow it down if I look at a map."

After a moment of silence in which Harry ate a mouthful of naan, Steve shook his head and snorted.

"Magic, right?"

Sheepish, Harry nodded his head. "Ah, yeah… a bit creepy, maybe?"

"A bit," Steve agreed. "Could you do that for anyone?"

Harry swiped a hand over his mouth and sat back, contemplating Steve. He hadn't really thought about his instinctive inclination to cast a few protective spells on Phil, but perhaps it was something he ought to reflect on.

"No," he said. "At the moment… just Phil."

Steve's eyebrows raised so high they nearly rocketed off his forehead.

"He was a constant," Harry said, not sure if he was justifying his choices to Steve or himself. "And he was nice… I wanted to be sure that I could protect him, if I needed."

"So you've got some sort of magic on him that can track him down?" Steve's mouth was curling into a strange smirk.

Harry narrowed his eyes and flicked his fingers at Steve.

"And now you, too."

Steve jumped and patted himself down. "I don't feel any different."

"Obviously," Harry said. "What use would it be if you did?"

"Point taken. And you can just… do that to anyone?"

Harry shrugged. "Sure. Just like you could punch through my ribcage and wave at my arse. We've all got special talents." He took a sip of beer and glanced up when Steve didn't respond.

"That was a bit visual," Steve said, looking a little pale.

With a snort, Harry shoved the jalfrezi over to Steve. "Have that. It'll put some hair on your chest. Didn't you fight in a world war?"

Steve dug in, turning pink with the heat of a chilli Harry had watched him absently eat. "Sure. But, wow, I don't think I've ever thought about punching through someone's chest."

"There's a first time for everything," Harry said wisely.

"I'd rather there wasn't," Steve muttered.

Harry cackled, laughing even harder at Steve's pouting glance of dismay.

"You were right."

"I'm not sure I heard that correctly. Could you say that again?"

"You heard me just fine."

Phil smiled to himself. It was worth picking up the phone at 01:06 for conversations such as these. "I was right. I often am. Go on, elaborate."

"We should have handled Potter with a softer touch from the get go… We… I assumed he'd be just like Thor. Same method of entry. Same brash demeanour." Nick snorted. "Fucking rookie error, really."

"Sounds like you need sleep," Phil advised. "This is far too candid for my taste."

"Fuck you."

"Nah."

They both chortled and Phil was glad they'd not irrevocably ruined their friendship. Glad that Nick had seen a little sense, too.

"So, what will you do now?"

There was a long pause and Phil stared at the dark ceiling of his bedroom in this shithole of a base. He could hear Nick breathing and he could feel the warmth of his phone tucked against his ear.

"Sent Lucky after him," Nick said eventually. "If anyone can talk him into joining us, it's him."

Phil sat up, alarmed. "Not Rigel?"

"Yup."

"You fucker."

"Nah."

"Rigel, seriously?"

"He's a solid agent. He's not going to fucking murder Potter."

"He might," Phil grumbled, settling back into bed, half wishing he'd never picked up the phone. Rigel was unreliable, unpredictable. The oddest of situations would set off his mean temper and he was obsessed with dogs. Strange man. Questionable agent.

"He won't. He gets results. He'll find Potter and with his luck, bring him in."

"Nobody will be able to bring Harry Potter in, not now," Phil said. Perhaps, at the very start of this mess, Phil would have been able to bring Harry in, leaning on the guilt Harry felt for drugging him. But now? Harry was the stubborn type and SHIELD had already shown what they were willing to do to apprehend him.

"Well, he'll report back to us, at least."

If Harry didn't win Rigel over, for whatever reason.

"Perhaps you should have just listened to me from the start," Phil said.

"Shut the fuck up, Phil."

"Good night, Nick."

London sprawled before him, golden pinpricks of light on a dark backdrop of skyscrapers and tower blocks. It was the time of night that he favoured: witching hour. The sun would rise soon, but before then, he'd enjoy the inky night above and search for his quarry while the city slept.

Harry Potter.

After so long, the name felt foreign on his tongue.

Sirius smiled and stalked into the night, searching for his long lost godson.