On Punching Gods and Absentee Dads

Enigmaris

Chapter 2: How to Throw a Punch

Summary:

The Golden Trio makes a plan and Harry travels to New York without a passport, its almost too easy.

Notes:

Heyyyy, I'm back at you with a new 5k word chapter. Please forgive my inability to update regularly. I am but a humble graduate student trying to learn about Martian volcanism.

Chapter Text

Harry blinked stupidly at his best friend and Ron grinned.

"Think about it mate. Everyone knows that the gods are living in New York City. You could get a portkey there, go to his house, punch him and leave."

"He lives with superheroes. They're not gonna let me get near him without a fight." Harry pointed out.

"Then use magic and stun 'em." Ron said as if it was obvious.

"You're forgetting two things Ron." Hermione said. "The statute of secrecy and the underage magic laws."

"Half of my dad's job is finding ways to explain away magic to muggles." Ron told them. "And Harry won't be breaking the statute if he can explain his magic as something else, something alien."

"So, if I do a spell and say hey my name is Haraldr Lokison then they'll just think I'm Asgardian." Harry said. "That's genius."

"But what about the underage magic laws? Harry could get his wand snapped…I mean unless of course he did his magic wandless making it impossible for any government to track…" Hermione said thoughtfully. "But that's impossible…"

"Why's it impossible?" Ron asked. "Harry's a demigod."

They stayed up the rest of the night talking about if it would be possible for Harry to punch the god of mischief in the face. The more they talked and planned the more likely it seemed. At first Harry brought up his friends going but Ron told him it wouldn't be a smart idea.

"We need to be here to make sure people believe you're with the Dursleys. Hermione and I can cover you so you can spend as much time as you need in New York."

"It's true. I want to be there with Harry, really I do. I know a few spells that would be perfect to cast on your dad." Hermione said. "But if we get caught trying to sneak out, we'll never get there."

Harry nodded in understanding. Part of him hurt that his friends couldn't go, but another part of him felt glad. This was dangerous and his friends couldn't be hurt by Avengers or gods if they weren't there.

"Alright so…all I need to do is learn how to make portkeys and how to do wandless magic, all before the school year ends." Harry said. "So that I can go punch my dad in the face."

"Don't worry mate." Ron promised. "We'll help you. I'll even go to the library."

"Well come on. We need to get some sleep." Hermione said. "Then we'll get down to the library and get to work."

Which is exactly what they did. For the next week Harry was constantly active. He practiced controlling his strength and he tried wandless magic. Surprisingly, the last was easier than the first. The increase in magical strength had really only made magic easier. Which was good since he broke things constantly when he wasn't thinking. His magic was able to hide the damage.

Hermione had replaced the lenses in his glasses with regular window glass so he could still wear them without anyone knowing his eyes were better. He also took to slouching more than he had before, sure it was bad for his back, but he only had to do it until the end of the school year. Then over the summer he could have a 'growth spurt' and no one would be any wiser that he was actually half alien.

It turned out that planning a way to get into New York City just to punch a god was easier than originally believed. There was a place in Diagon Alley that sold international portkeys. Harry could buy one to get to New York and from there Harry could camp out in the wizarding district while he got everything else together. Ron and Hermione helped him practice every spell he'd need whenever they had free time. They explained it away by saying they were helping Harry grieve.

By the time the school year ended they had a plan. Harry felt confident that he'd be able to knock Loki down. He'd even had Ginny show him how to properly punch. He'd mentioned to her that he was finally tired of getting beat up by his cousin and she'd shown him where to put his thumb so he didn't break it. The 4th year girl was terrifying but now Harry was sure he could properly punch out the god of lies.

Which was all that really mattered anyway.

"So, we're all clear on the plan?" Ron asked as he pulled the train compartment door shut.

"We been through it a dozen times." Hermione said. "Of course, we're clear on what we're doing."

"I just want to make sure we've figured everything out. It isn't every day you make a plan to punch a god."

"You know we really need a better name for this plan." Harry pointed out. "Something…with more subtlety"

"Harry, you're going to a different country for the first time to punch a god." Hermione told him. "There's nothing subtle about this."

"We still could have come up with a plan name."

Hermione sighed in despair which made Harry grin. His mom's journal had revitalized him in a way. It wasn't just finding out he was a demi-god, really it was finding out how loved he was. His soul still hurt when he thought about Sirius or the prophecy but now he didn't feel as if he was drowning in it. The tattoo on his wrist might have helped too. He wasn't in this alone and he never would be.

Ron sat down next to Harry and placed his feet on the bench right next to where Hermione was sitting. Hermione lifted an eyebrow up at Ron's invasion of her space. When he didn't move his feet away, she merely sighed and placed the heavy book she had in her lap onto his calves. The title read Compendium of Wandless Magic Spells.

"Ouch." Ron complained, it probably didn't hurt that much since he didn't move.

"What's that for?" Harry asked. "I thought I'd gotten wandless magic down."

"It's true you can do it." Hermione admitted. "A lot better than I thought."

"Wow thanks." Hermione gave him a look and Harry mimed zipping his lips shut.

"Anyway." She said. "I noticed that some spells were easier for you than others and I wondered why."

"I've always been better at some stuff." Harry said. "I don't think my demigoddness is gonna make me good at potions."

"I looked it up." Hermione said. "Apparently some spells actually work better wandless than others. If the spell is older, like the summoning spell or the cutting charm and invented before wands became mainstream then they're easier to cast. If the spell is newer and made with a wand in mind then it's harder."

"Oh." Harry said.

I didn't even think about that." Ron admitted, blushing a little. "So what sort of spells should Harry use?"

"I…borrowed this book from the library." Hermione said patting the heavy tome.

"We're not allowed to take books over the summer." Harry said grinning. "Hermione Granger did you steal something from the library?"

"It was for a good cause!" Hermione said. "Besides we're going to bring it back. No one will notice it's gone."

"What's so good about it?" Ron asked.

"Harry can use this to figure out what spells to use on his break in attempt. The last thing we want is Harry trying to break in and using a spell designed for wand magic and having a false start."

"Gimme the book." Harry said after a momentary pause.

Hermione smirked but did hand him the book. He opened it up and flipped through the pages. This really would help him pick the right spells to use. He sent a grateful smile to Hermione. The cart lady came by a moment later asking if they wanted anything. Harry pulled out some galleons and ordered sweets for all of them.

While they chewed on sugar quills and chocolate frogs Harry read through a few spells that seemed useful. He wondered if he could do them wordlessly too.

"I suppose there is one thing we forgot." Hermione said.

"What?" Ron asked, his voice panicked. "I swear I thought of everything!"

"No, not like that. It's just…after the punch." Hermione said gently. "Are you going to talk to your dad about the war? Now that the ministry is admitting that You-Know-Who is back there's nothing keeping him from acting openly against the world."

Harry honestly didn't know. He didn't want to think about it. He knew he probably should. That if his dad could help end the war, save more lives, then Harry should tell him. But at the same time he didn't want to have anything to do with someone who could abandon his friends so easily. He got a stubborn look on his face that his friends easily interpreted.

"If you don't want to talk to your dad about it maybe Thor would help. He's your uncle isn't he? Plus he's a superhero so it's sort of his job." Ron suggested.

"I dunno. He doesn't have any magic and the rest of the Avengers are muggles. Would it be safe?" Harry asked.

"If it feels right." Hermione said. "Give them the option. Our side needs as much help as it can get."

"Alright. I'll keep an open mind."

"Good. Now we've done enough planning. Harry let's play some chess."

Harry grinned but agreed to play chess with Ron. The other teen soundly defeated him three times while Hermione read through another book, this one on the norse gods and the history of demigods. Harry didn't want to know what was in that book because he had a feeling it wasn't good based on Hermione's look.

By the time they pulled into London Harry had almost forgotten that there was anything wrong in his life. No one had come by their compartment to bother them and his friends kept him pretty distracted. But when the train slowed down and Harry realized he had to actually go to New York and punch his dad, the nerves came back.

"It's going to be okay Harry."

"Yeah." Harry said looking at his friends. "Come on. Let's go."

"It's show time." Ron said grinning.

Show time involved getting their trunks, avoiding Malfoy and his goons, and going over to where the Weasleys were waiting. Harry received the hug from Mrs. Weasley very carefully, even so she must have thought he was squeezing her a bit too hard because she got a little teary and told him that it was going to be alright. He was just glad he hadn't hurt her. Harry didn't know if things were going to be alright, all he did know was that he had answers and justice to get.

Once he'd said goodbye to all of the Weasleys, Fred and George included. He made his excuses and quickly stole away. He heard Ron explaining to his mum and dad that the Dursleys were anxious to get Harry home safely to the blood wards. The last thing Harry heard before going through the barrier was Mr. Weasley saying he was glad that the muggles had gotten their heads on right.

Harry made his way through the crowds of the station, keeping his eye out for his relatives. He saw Uncle Vernon, angrily standing near one of the exits. Harry knew that if he didn't go over there in 15 minutes or less then the man would leave him there. Which was just fine by him. Harry had no plans on speaking to his relatives at all. Instead he snuck over to the nearest men's restroom and stuffed himself into the empty disabled stall.

He needed the space to do the magic he had to do. He looked at the empty owl cage on the top of his trunk for a moment in sadness. He'd sent Hedwig to the Burrow. His bird would be safer there. She'd assured him in her own way that she could make it and Hermione had confirmed that Hedwig would be just fine on her own for a while. It didn't mean he didn't miss his bird. He opened the trunk and pulled out some clothing.

Getting the right clothing had been easier than expected. He'd just asked Dobby for help and the elf had happily gotten him what he needed. It wasn't that Harry didn't have muggle clothing, he did. It was just that the muggle clothing was either a Weasley sweater or some of Dudley's hand-me-downs. If Harry was honest with himself, he didn't want to see his dad wearing either. He wanted to look like he was strong, like the world wasn't spiraling out of control around him. At least when he punched him.

He quickly changed into the clothing, thankfully Dobby had listened very carefully about what Harry wanted and hadn't purchased anything too…Dobby-ish for lack of a better term. The shirt was a dark green and the jeans fit him, without any holes or tears. Dobby had even gotten him new trainers that fit his feet (which had grown with the rest of him). Once he was dressed he cast a few spells, wandlessly, on himself. The first was a notice-me-not charm to make sure that no muggles bothered him. The next was a small glamor to cover up the lightning bolt scar. The final one was a hair changing spell, this was actually a pranking spell but it still worked.

Harry shrunk his trunk and left the bathroom looking like a brunette with straight, thin hair and a clear complexion. He walked confidently through the crowds that magically parted for him. Everyone in the station sensed he was there even though their eyes slid right over him. It made getting through and out the door pretty easy.

From the station Harry walked to the Leaky Cauldron. It wasn't a quick walk but that was fine. With his enhanced endurance he wasn't tired and it gave him time to really think through his plan. His friends had really helped shape the plan, but now that Harry was on his own there were things to think about. Things like how hard to punch Loki and where. Should he punch him in the face? The face that was so similar to his own, the face that had cursed him to be constantly compared to a trouble making dad? Or maybe he should punch him in the gut? That was Dudley's favorite place to punch people so Harry knew exactly how much it hurt.

Every time he thought about his dad in any real way he felt nothing but anger. Anger for the little boy in the cupboard who had constantly wished that someone would save him. Anger for the 11 year old wizard who nearly lost himself to a mirror that promised family. Fury for the man who had lost his youth to Azkaban and his life to a war that should never have gone on this long. Rage for a man ravaged by a curse and left alone by the people he thought he could trust. There was just so much hurt in him. His dad was alive, and he had left everyone alone for 14 years! Nothing could justify that! Nothing ever would.

Harry was familiar with rage. He was a long time friend of pushing down all of your anger and hiding it away. This past year he'd snapped left and right. Umbridge and Voldemort's visions had destroyed his ability to pretend that he wasn't constantly frustrated and upset with the world.

Sometimes it scared him, this darkness inside. It made him wonder late at night if he was just like Voldemort after all. Harry didn't want to feel like this, he didn't want to feel monstrous. But sometimes he did. Like right then as he walked through the busy streets of London. Because as much as he called punching Loki justice, wasn't it really revenge? Yes, that's what it was. He was avenging his destroyed childhood, he was avenging Sirius's painful life, he was avenging Remus' loneliness and pain.

With just one punch Harry reminded himself. He didn't want to go overboard, no need to become the next Hercules and accidentally kill all of his family. That's not a good look on anyone. He didn't want to kill Loki, he didn't want the man to die. Harry just wanted to take all of this anger and hurt and blame someone for it. He wanted someone else to take responsibility for all the shitty things that had happened. But Loki wasn't doing that, he wasn't coming back into the world and saving the day. Hence the punch.

By the time Harry had gotten to the Leaky Cauldron he'd reigned in his temper. He made his way inside, unlike every other time he'd gone in there people didn't crowd him. In fact, no one even really bothered to give him more than a glance. He walked past Tom and out into the entrance. Pulling out his wand he carefully tapped the right brick and went inside. As Ron said, it was show time.

Getting the portkey turned out to be easy. They'd all been worried that there would be some sort of restrictions on who could buy them. Like the restrictions Dumbledore had placed around the goblet of fire. But no, Harry had just walked in, asked for a portkey to New York City, paid the man 20 galleons and then walked out of the store with a rope that would take him to New York City when he said the word 'hopscotch'. Which was just the funniest thing. Could Harry have purchased a portkey as a first year? Would the tired attendant at the desk have even batted an eye?

It didn't matter. He had a way to get to Loki now. Harry swung over to Gringotts and withdrew enough galleons to pay for the trip, then he exchanged about half of it for muggle American money. Once he was sure he had everything he needed, he took the portkey in hand and said the word.

"Hopscotch."

The sensation of being hooked by the navel and spun around was one that was all too familiar. Harry didn't even realize how much he hated it until he had already landed flat on his face in a terminal in New York City. He shivered and tried to clamp down on the instinctual panic.

"Sir." A tired voice in an American accent said. "Please stand up and move out of the way for any other incoming travelers."

Harry groaned but pushed himself up. He looked around to see a man in a muggle uniform looking at him with what could really only be described as apathy.

"You alright?" Harry asked.

"Long day." The man admitted with a snort. "First time to New York?"

"Uhh…yes?"

"Go down that hallway. Walk through the red arches. They'll take off any spells you've got on you that would hide your identity, glamors and Polyjuice, things like that. It's a security thing." The man said pointing to a hallway to the right of the terminal Harry had ended up in. "Then wait in line and when an attendant becomes free go up, state your name and your purpose. Produce your wand to prove you are who you say you are, and then you're free to go. If you need any help finding a hotel or anything else there are information elves inside the station."

"Right." Harry said. "Thanks."

The man had already tuned him out. Harry straightened out his clothing and made his way quickly towards the arches. He didn't mind that his glamor would be removed, he'd only done it so that no one in London would see him and alert the headmaster. He walked through the arches and felt the glamors fall off.

The entire place reminded Harry of an airport. He'd never actually been to a muggle one but he'd seen it in movies that Dudley watched sometimes. There were magical moving advertisements on the walls, telling him about the different things, both magical and mundane, that he should be sure to visit. The carpet was short and thick with a weird geometric pattern in dark blue. The hallways were lit with mage lights stuck inside glass boxes. It was all very modern compared to Diagon Alley and Hogwarts.

Once he got to the end of the hallway he walked into a wider room that had multiple lines of people waiting between floating ropes. Each line led up to a human behind a desk. It really was like an airport. Harry grinned and made his way to the line that looked the shortest, which turned out to be the third one from the right.

To his left there was a woman with eyes that didn't look human, she had long blonde hair and she smelled like flowers. Something about her made Harry's head feel dizzy and disoriented. He shook his head and closed his eyes, it took a moment but his head cleared. He called on his magic to help him not lose his head and he opened his eyes again. Was she part veela? Harry didn't know but it didn't matter.

The line moved forward and so Harry stepped past the pretty woman. There was a family to his right, complete with crying toddler. The only difference was that this crying toddler clearly had magic. Harry watched in fascination as every time the toddler kicked the ground, the carpeted floor started sporting little spots of char. Where the pudgy fists hit, little puffs of flames erupted. The toddler's mum was trying to calm the young boy but to no avail. The dad was just putting the flames out if they got too big.

The family's line moved forward, and the mum dragged the toddler further along, with a protective spell on her skin giving it a blue tint. Harry watched them go with wide eyes. Someone came up behind him and he glanced back to see a man wearing invisible clothing. By invisible, Harry meant that it worked just the same way his invisibility cloak did. His jacket and trousers made a clear image of what was behind him, the only thing visible was his neck, face and hands.

"Nice clothes." Harry said to the man.

"Thanks." The man said in an American accent. "It's all the rage in Cali."

"Really?" Harry said.

"Oh yeah. I like it but it's not nearly as cool as what you British wizards have. Your robes are so slimming."

Harry nodded, he hadn't really noticed his robes as slimming, but then again it wasn't like he wore his school uniform for the style of it all.

"What are you coming to the US for?" The guy asked.

"Tourist stuff." Harry evaded. "Never been outside of Britain, wanted to experience something new."

If by something new, Harry meant punching a god in the throat.

"Nice. I just got back from France. I ended my vacation early. Now that the war's back on it's safer here than in Europe."

Harry grimaced and made a sound of agreement. He didn't know how famous he was outside of Britain but since the man hadn't recognized him it might not be that big of a deal.

"I'm Brian, Brian Freeze by the way." The man said sending out a hand to shake.

"Harry." There was no need to push his luck by giving a last name.

"Word of advice Harry?" Brian said. "Talk to the elves about getting a hotel in the muggle part. It's much cheaper and there's less likelihood of someone drunkenly using an unlocking charm on your door because they thought it was their room."

"Thanks."

"And it might help with…that." He motioned to Harry's forehead. "That is if you didn't want to be noticed."

Harry blushed and awkwardly tried to cover up the scar.

"Noticed that did you?"

"Can't help but notice. Your face has been everywhere, ever since last year when you got put in the Tri-Wizard Tournament against your will."

"Really? I mean…the papers here said it was against my will?"

"Wasn't it?"

"Course it was."

"Well, the papers have been covering you since."

"Maybe I should get a hat."

"Might help." Brian agreed sounding more amused than he had any right to.

Their line moved forward and Harry realized it was nearly his turn. He was at the front now and the large woman in front of him was in the middle of handing her wand over. When she started to waddle away, Brian spoke.

"Good luck Harry."

"Thanks Brian."

Harry strode up to the attendant, a woman with bright purple hair and lips that were stained the same color. She was looking at a magical screen that reminded Harry of a hologram.

"Name and Country of Origin please."

"Uhh… Harry Potter and Britain."

The woman snorted.

"Right and I'm Elvi- Holy shit it really is."

Harry blushed bright red as the woman stared gobsmacked at him. That seemed to shake her and she cleared her throat.

"Sorry…Why are you coming to New York City, Mr. Potter?"

"I want to see some sites, be a tourist." Harry lied as best he could.

"Of course. Wand please."

He pulled his wand out of his pocket and placed it on the desk. The desk glowed white for a moment and then the light turned green and Harry heard a dinging sound.

"That's all cleared up, feel free to go on to the left and into the station."

"Thanks."

Harry pretended like he couldn't feel the woman's eyes boring holes into the back of his head and he hurried away. Turns out he was just famous everywhere. The first thing he did was replace his glamors once he was free to. The station was huge, there were shops selling everything from novelty t-shirts to potion ingredients to magical snacks. People were milling in and out of the shops. There were food stores selling pizzas and burgers and all sorts of things Harry had only ever dreamed of eating.

He weaved through the crowds of people until he got to the information desk. It figured they'd leave the house elves to work the most demeaning job. He shook his head and walked up to a house elf wearing clothing that was similar to the uniforms the rest of the works had.

"How can Figsie help you today?"

"Can you help me get a hotel room in the muggle part of New York?" Harry asked.

"Of course sirs." Figsie snapped his fingers and produced a brochure. "What sorts of hotel did sirs want?"

Harry took the brochure and opened it up. He quickly realized he had more than enough to pay for any hotel he wanted.

"Could I get one near Avengers Tower? It's in Midtown…I think."

"There's a very nice one. Would you like a view of the tower sirs?"

"Yeah, and could I get a balcony or something?"

Figsie nodded and soon Harry had a hotel room. According to the brochure most muggle hotels had rooms that were placed on hold for magical clients. It was a law that magical government in the United States passed to mitigate the risk of drunken tourists doing magic in front of muggles. He read about the spells put in place on hotels to ensure that there were always rooms available and so that the muggles working there didn't notice.

Harry would have disliked the morals of that if he still wasn't paying the people who owned the hotel. They did get money, and it didn't seem like they lost a lot of revenue. In fact, after this decision magical tourism to New York actually increased. So…maybe it was good for them? Harry shook his head and decided not to think about it too much.

Figsie helped him set up the payment so that the bill was charged directly to his Gringotts vault and then gave him a hotel room key that would magically transport him to his room. New York City had really done a lot to ensure that witches and wizards interacted with muggles as little as possible. It was almost funny. How many incidents had almost destroyed the statute of secrecy before the government was forced to go to these lengths?

"Thanks Figsie. Are there any pamphlets that can tell me what rules I should follow? I don't want to break the statute accidentally."

"Of course sirs. Here you are."

Harry thanked the elf again, taking the pamphlets that the elf had provided. He knew he was going to be skirting the magical secrecy laws but there was no reason to spit on them too. He wandered around the station a little longer, window shopping and reading through the pamphlets. Once he'd seen enough and even purchased some small trinkets for Ron and Hermione, he decided to call it a day and head to the hotel.

It might have been closer to lunch time here in New York but Harry had had a full day. Tomorrow he could start planning. He used his key card and it portkeyed him right into his hotel. This time instead of landing on a hard surface. He landed with a bounce on a large bed. The bed was probably the most comfortable he'd ever laid in. The entire room was almost too nice.

The walls were a very pale gold and the lights in the room were warm. Carefully Harry got off the bed and walked over to the large balcony. He pushed open the glass door and walked into the hot summer air. Gleaming right in front of him, only a few blocks away was Avengers Tower. Even Harry, entrenched as he was in his own life and the wizarding world, knew about Tony Stark and the rest of the Avengers. The tower was impressive, made up of beautiful, elegant lines. It looked like the pinnacle of futurism, the promise of a better tomorrow.

"I'm gonna feel bad breaking into it."

Hopefully he wouldn't wreck the tower. If the plan went well the worst that would happen were a few windows broken and maybe some dents in a wall or two. Nothing that couldn't be fixed. Unless lost control of his strength…then there might be more damage. He promised himself to be careful as he stared at the silver tower. The Avengers were nice people, even if they were hanging out with his deadbeat, world invading dad.