Thank you to all my reviewers, and my wonderful, wonderful readers!

(currently un-betaed)

Once again, not betaed. This time it's my fault. I've been painting (I posted some pics on my tumblr of one of my paintings) and spending time with my family, and I pretty much didn't even contact La Tigra this week at all (Sorry!).

So, I have some news.

I'm moving soon. Not to a different city or anything, just a different house (but it's a ways across town from where we live now). So because of that, we'll be going into a temporary hiatus between parts 4 and 5, that may or may not be longer than the usual break. I'm just telling you guys now, because I'm gonna have to take some time to get everything moved, and settled, and work myself into a new routine. I don't know how long it'll take.

Aside from that, I want to thank you all. I got a lot of reviews telling me to keep my head up, and offering support, and I love you guys for it. It's nice to have readers that care how I'm doing as opposed to just the story.

Before we get to the chapter, I have a question for you guys.

If I were to write an original work (as opposed to a fanfiction), would any of you want to read it? Or be willing to buy something I wrote if (by some miracle) I got published? I'm curious, really.

Now then, onto the chapter.

Enjoy.

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White again.

He looked around himself. It was a different place this time. But not one he recognized. He was in a room (or what looked like a room). He could feel carpet beneath him, and all around him there were armchairs and couches, and on the one wall not obscured by fog there was a fireplace with no fire or wood inside, just ashes. Though everything was white, he thought there must be lots of color, and the room as a whole made him think a little of Gryffindor tower. It was a lot like it, actually, and he wondered if the real version of the room, if there was one, had been modelled after it.

He walked nearer the fireplace, and settled into one of the armchairs. It was comfortable. He closed his eyes and breathed in. It hadn't really occurred to him before, but in these places between life and death, there was never any smell (at least not from the place itself, only from the dead people he met there, and wasn't that a strange thought?). When he opened his eyes again, he wasn't alone.

His heart panged. It wasn't like the joyous relief of seeing Sirius again, or the uncontrollable flood of blissful emotion at meeting his mother, but his heart still swelled with love. The man smiled brightly at him, and Harry's eyes studied him. He was lanky and tall. His black hair was even more wild than his own back when it was short (though it was still particularly wild when he didn't braid it, much like Hermione's, really, though without curls), and the brown eyes behind those round glasses had a twinkle in them not unlike Dumbledore. Harry could see how easy it was for people to believe they were related. They looked a lot alike.

"James."

"Hello Harry." Harry sat up and hugged him. It felt right to, and James chuckled and hugged him back. "It's nice to finally meet you kiddo."

"Haven't we already met?"

"It's nice to finally meet you while you're old enough to remember it." He corrected himself and Harry snickered and sat back in his chair. He wondered if the room was someplace special to James, since it wasn't a place he knew, but he didn't ask.

"Nice to meet you too then." He paused, looking out into the fog. "Everytime she brings me here, I seem to meet someone different." James nodded.

"You're alive still. It's not safe for you to be so close to the realm of the dead for too long. There isn't enough time for more than one of us to visit you."

"So you take turns?"

"Yup."

"Ah. So I might see Sirius again?" James smiled.

"Probably next time."

"I was starting to think I could only see any of you once." James shook his head.

"Nah. You can see any of us as many times as you want." His face turned mock stern and he pointed at Harry. "We don't even have to be here to see you! You just never call us!"

"What?" Harry asked in confusion, and James snorted.

"The ring, Harry. You just have to turn it about and call one of our names."

"I thought the stone brought people back to life?"

"No. Just calls us to you, like ghosts. Just for a bit, and then we go back. You need a fresh body to come back to life." Harry grumbled.

"It would have been nice if someone had told me that sooner."

"You never asked." Harry gave him a bland look, and James smiled widely.

"Right then." There was quiet for a moment, and Harry was even more at a loss for what to say than he had been with his mother. Technically, James would have been his step-father or something had he lived. Would it have been so awkward then? His lack of words in this case, was born from an absence of knowledge on what to say to someone who was not family, neither by blood nor choice, but who could have been, and who he still felt a fondness for, if only from the many years of his life when he had believed they were father and son, and because the man had died protecting him.

"It's alright Harry." James told him, eyes sad, as though he knew exactly what he was thinking. "I just wanted to see you."

"I'm glad." James nodded, and then coughed.

"Tell me kiddo, are you happy?" Harry smiled.

"Yes. Very much so."

"Good. That's all that matters then." His voice was bittersweet. "I wish I could have been a part of your life, and that we could have been close, and I regret very much that it didn't happen that way. Trusting Peter is the one true regret I have in death. I also wish that it could have been me you called Father, instead of Sniv- Snape. But I'm happy that you're happy, and as long as you are, that's all I could ever ask for." Harry's chest felt a bit tight, and his words cracked a little when he spoke.

"Thank you."

"You're welcome. I have to go now, you know."

"Yea."

"Call me sometime will you? Even if it's not often, I'd like the chance to speak to you every now and again."

"Okay."

"Good. See ya 'round son." He grinned at Harry, and was gone the moment he blinked, replaced by Hel, who looked down at him from her seat carefully, the lights in her eyes flickering.

"Is it bad that I'm relieved you're here now, and he's not?"

"Not at all."

"Okay." He looked away from her, not really sure that was the truth. He felt guilty after the entire encounter, and had no idea why. Then he sighed, and tried to put it away. He would think on it later, meditate on it maybe, when there was time. "I met your father."

"I saw."

"That's why I'm here now, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"Something strange happened. When I met him. Something with my magic." She didn't say anything at first this time, but ran a hand through his hair as she always did. It calmed him somewhat. Here in this place, it was her hands in his hair that grounded him, because Mitera, who embodied life and the cycles of it, did not exist in death.

"I suspected something would happen."

"You didn't warn me."

"If I had been wrong, a warning would have been pointless. It would only have worried you unnecessarily." She pulled her hand away, folding it in her lap atop the other. The fog around them thickened, looking almost like clouds, and Harry couldn't see the white fireplace anymore.

"What was it?" He asked her. "What happened between us?"

"I..." She hesitated, and that felt wrong to him. He didn't feel as though she was meant to hesitate, as though she was the sort to do it. He thought of her more as the type to stay silent for hours, and speak only when she was sure of her words. But hesitate? "It is difficult to explain to one who can see so little. You are of the living world, and so are blind to the threads of fate's weave. But there are times, when something horrid looms that threatens so much, and the weaver will see it long before it arrives. When that happens, sometimes she will set events in motion, so that two people can come together to accomplish a task one alone cannot. Your magic now, is not as it was when you were born. My father's magic now, is not as it was when he was born, or a hundred years after, or five hundred years after, and his, and yours, will change again in time. But for now, for as long as is needed, they match." Harry's brow wrinkled.

"Are you saying that what happened, is so we can work together?"

"I believe so, yes. But I am not fate, and I can only see parts of her plan, not all of it. Two who's magic match, can do much together they could not apart." She smiled. "Your twins are an example of this. Their magic matches also, and will for as long as they live. But this, with you and my father, is not meant for always, only for a while."

"But for what? What are we supposed to do? How?"

"I do not know. It is something you must find for yourselves." Harry's teeth grit in frustration. When something horrid looms...

"Something bad is coming, isn't it?"

"Yes."

"How will I know what it is?"

"You will know." As though that made so much sense. He sighed. "I am sorry, Master, that I can tell you no more."

"It's alright." It wasn't. But he was sure she knew that. He looked away from her, and opened his eyes.

The townhouse's ceiling wasn't as comforting as it had been before, and Harry snarled up at it.

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Harry chopped potatoes in silence, each tap of the knife against the counter sounding louder than it was. It was still dark outside, and would be for another hour or so, when Severus would wake. He finished and set them to the side, moving to shift about in the fridge for the sausage. He had always hated cooking; had despised it from the moment his Aunt had forced him to stand on that stool and turn bacon even as he flinched with every bit of oil that popped out at him. But it had always been a way to keep his hands busy when he couldn't sit still; to let him think about other things while being productive. It was something he couldn't do with runes, since they required his focus. Cooking though, he had done for years, was so good at he could do it with his eyes closed, no matter how much he hated it.

So he was cooking breakfast while his mind worked over everything that had happened, both the events of the day before, on the helicarrier, and that night, as his body had slept, and his soul had been pulled into the place he was quickly calling the 'white world', since 'the place between life and death' was too long. With any luck, the others in the house would appreciate it. He knew his father and Bruce would, at least. Muhammad might make fun if his cooking even if he loved it.

He pulled out the things he would need to mix up batter for the biscuits. He was taking his time with the prep work, since no one would be up for a bit. He had this feeling in his bones, as though he had suddenly taken the first step down a path he could be on for years. It bothered him a little, feeling like that. They had only just stopped travelling; with the express intention of relaxing for a bit, of winding down. He cracked an egg into the bowl, watching the yellow ball as it was broken and smeared by his stirring. His instincts screamed at him that a door was about to be opened that couldn't be closed, and he didn't know if he wanted to be there to see it, or run the other way and hide back in his snowy fortress on the other side of the world.

But he was a Gryffindor dammit, and lions (or panthers, as the case may be) didn't run away. He growled quietly down at the mix. He and his thriced damned pride. He sighed. He didn't have the energy to be angry right now. He didn't know what would happen that day, but he had this nasty feeling they wouldn't manage to stop Loki before his army was unleashed. Would they fail altogether? Would Loki manage to take over the world? Or could they stop him? Could they defeat him, capture him?

And what then? As he understood it, Thor very much intended to take Loki back to Asgard, to face justice there. The way Hel had spoken to him... Her request for his help combined with the events of yesterday and the knowledge that, once again, fate had stuck her bitchy little fingers into his life, all made it clear he would need to go where Loki went.

He had no idea when this thing, this event, that needed both of them, would happen. So he would have to stay close until it did. Was he willing to go to another world for this? Would he even be allowed to?

Somehow he didn't see any conversation with Fury about Loki going well.

The bowl cracked under the pressure of his hands, mix splattering everywhere. Harry took a deep breath, leaning against the counter for a moment while the tannish gloop fell to the floor like syrup, and then started cleaning up. He would have to start over.

As he cleaned he came to a decision.

Planning had never been his strong-suit, and second-guessing himself, and worrying, had never been good for his health. So he would do what he always did.

Jump in headfirst and hope he didn't die.

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Severus was the first down, as expected, and he set about making his tea, working around Harry and his place at the stove stirring things about in a pan. He was silent, and Harry was thankful for it. Just having him there was all he wanted right now. Bruce and Moo wandered down after a bit, the latter with cigarette in hand, and settled themselves at the table just as he was finishing up. Bruce smiled at him for the food, and his father gave a quiet thank you, before they began eating in silence.

It felt peaceful, bringing to mind the phrase 'the calm before the storm'.

It was broken, when breakfast had nearly finished, and Bruce sat up a little straighter and cleared his throat.

"Should we leave now?" Harry hesitated, and then waved a hand, sending the dishes to a sink full of water to be dealt with later.

"We need to get ready first." He waved a hand amusedly at the pajamas Bruce wore. The Doctor flushed. "We'll leave soon though. Just get yourself ready to go, and then we will."

"I'll be coming with you." His eyes fell on Muhammad, who had spoken with a serious conviction that was unusual for him.

"I don't think Fury would be too pleased about that."

"Well that's his problem."

"Moo..."

"No. Harry." He leaned forward, his brown eyes dark, and his expression so dire Harry felt strange at seeing it. This was not how Muhammad was meant to look. This was not his natural disposition. "We are family. We fight together." And Harry found he couldn't really argue against that. So instead he nodded silently, feeling somewhat dumbfounded in the face of the other's intensity, and Muhammad got up and left the table to get ready.

Harry had a bad feeling about all of this.

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A shower helped a lot. The feeling of the water soaking into his hair and making it heavy, and running down his back and stomach and tail. It eased a lot of the tension, and he felt looser once he was done. He pulled on his armor, and nothing else. He hung up Sirius' leather jacket, running a hand down the front of it. He didn't want it damaged in the fight to come. He kept his lordship ring though, twirling it nervously around his finger. He put on his boots, and regretfully pulled off many of his trinkets; his necklaces and bracelets and bands. He had, at the end, only his gifts from Imamu (both the translation necklace and the golden feather in his braid, though he still didn't know the purpose of the latter), his glamour band, the twins' protection band (which had served him well during his travels), and his band of stones.

He strapped his scimitar to his hip, and Draco's dagger to his opposite thigh, and went through the floo to Bogdon. He gathered his invisibility cloak, knowing now, what it truly was, and put it into one of his bracers. His eyes, while there, fell on his warded cabinet, and after a moment of thought, he pulled out the ring, and Dumbledore's wand. The ring he wore, on the opposite hand as his lordship ring, and, though he doubted he would ever need to use it, he slipped the wand into the second bracer.

It was the first time he had touched any of them, since learning what they were, and he felt strangely better knowing they were with him. He knew he would have to follow Loki, wherever he might go, and with no knowledge of when the god would be taken from Earth, and whether or not he would have the time to do so later, he returned to New York, gathered up his most important possessions, put them in his trunk, and shrunk it. He attached it to a chain, and settled it around his neck. This way, at least, if he was not given much time, he would have it with him.

He wrote out notes to the twins, and the Weasleys, the Malfoys, Remus, Moody, and instructions for the goblins. He told Hedwig, beautiful and faithful owl that she was, to take them only if Severus returned to the house without him, and she gave a sorrowful hoot, as though she understood that she may not see him again for a long time. He kissed her head. She had followed him on and off all through his travels, and he would miss her. Oddball would stay here, and then when the blond got his letter, he would go to Draco without him. He was well attached to the pureblood anyways, having stayed with him for as long as he had when Harry had been in the Middle East.

Metis, on the other hand...

"You can't. I've already told you-"

"No little brother!" She curled tighter around his arm. "You will go nowhere without me!"

"Metis, there will be a battle, I canno-"

"Then I will fight with you! I will go where you go little brother! I will go or I will bite you and make you sleep so you must stay!" He felt a spike of alarm at that. Bite him and make him sleep? Metis had never bit anyone. He didn't even know she had poison, having never fully gotten around to researching what species she was with any depth. He couldn't afford for her to interfere. He couldn't afford to be made unconscious and unable to fight.

"Alright! Alright! You can go!" He hissed, acquiescing. "But you must be careful!" His voice softened then. "I could not bear for something to happen to you little one. I could not bear for you to be harmed." She slid up his arm, her tongue flicking out to touch his face.

"I will not be harmed little brother. I am big without my crown. I will fight, and I will keep you safe. No creature will harm me! I am greater than them all!" She stuck up her nose pridefully, blue scales gleaming in the light, and Harry couldn't help but laugh. He touched his nose to hers.

"Alright Metis." He straightened. "Come and settle on my shoulders now. We must leave." She did so, draping herself near his neck like a loose scarf, and he sighed to himself. Metis had been with him a long time, and though Hedwig had been with him longer, the snake held a larger place in his heart. He loved Hedwig dearly, Oddball too, but he could stand to live without them if it came to it. Metis, though...

Despite the danger it put her in, and the questions he would likely face for her presence, he was glad she had argued to go with him. She was his familiar, after all. He needed her.

Neither his father, nor his brothers asked or spoke against it when he came down the stairs with her. He saw, though, with trepidation, the way his father eyed the shrunken trunk hanging from his neck with a narrowed gaze. Still, he didn't speak on it, not yet at least, and they left.

Bruce's clumsy reaction to side-along apparition certainly eased some of the tension.

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Stark tower felt strange when they passed through it. All the while they were there, Harry felt a churning in his stomach that couldn't be explained. In the end though, they weren't there for long, and the feeling left him once the jet (or at least, the small, quick black aircraft that looked somewhat like a jet) left for the helicarrier.

Fury looked him up and down as he came in, taking in the armor and weapons, and the blue serpent curled about his shoulders. Harry expected him to say something, but instead, he looked more concerned with Muhammad's presence.

"There a reason for the extra person, Mr. Black?" Harry shrugged.

"We're a family, sir. We fight together." He told him, repeating the young Arab's own words. Fury met his eyes with a hard expression, but nodded slowly.

"I'll take all the help we can get." He was distracted for a moment, barking orders at a few of his men, before he motioned them to follow him. They were led to the same room with the circular table as before. Harry looked around. There were more people here than before.

It was with great relief that he saw Thor sitting there, looking entirely unharmed. He had been worried that his own folly had led to the thunder god's death. But there he was, perfectly fine, and Harry was happy for it. He had an inscrutable expression on his face, and was leaned back in his chair, arms crossed over his chest. Next to him sat Captain Rogers, looking determined and at a loss for what to do all at the same time.

Then there was Tony, poking away at a tablet of some sort, lips turned down at the corners and eyes tight, clearly not wanting to be there at all, and so ignoring everyone. Next to him was Romanoff, and then two people Harry had not yet seen.

The first was a man, broad shouldered and just a little taller than Tony. He had sandy colored hair that was short, a squarish face, and light brown eyes. He wore the same dark uniform as many of the guards here, the only difference being the understated swipes of purple in with the black, and there was a quiver strapped to his back; the matching bow leaning against his side with his fingers curled anxiously around it. His expression was angered, and Harry had a feeling this must be the man Loki had taken control of.

Next to him was a beautiful, dark-skinned woman. All her features were soft, and her face was framed by long, wavy hair. It was white in color, which startled Harry, who had never seen such a shade on a person before, not even on Tonks. Her eyes were unusual as well, the irises such a light shade of blue they almost looked silver. Discretely, Harry sniffed.

The glamours hindered his sense of smell more than he liked, and it took him a moment to interpret all the scents that came to him. Leather, metal, gunpowder, coffee, cologne, the various smells that came from soaps and shampoos, and there, beneath it all, that strange, unexplainable thing he associated with mutants, this one accompanied by the smell of rain.

So she was a mutant then. That might explain the odd coloring.

He and his family all sat around the table, Bruce wound up next to Thor, with Harry next to him and Severus on Harry's other side, and then Muhammad, next to the mutant woman. There were just enough chairs for the lot of them. Fury looked them all over, and straightened, opening his mouth in preparation to speak. He was waylaid by Thor, who suddenly eyed Harry and his family, outside of Bruce.

"You are Seidmenn."

"Pardon?" Harry didn't recognize the word.

"You practice Seidr." He paused as though trying to find the word. Harry wondered why the translation necklace hadn't made it clear.

"Do you mean magic?" His face lit up and he nodded.

"Yes."

"Ah. Well, we're wizards, yea." Thor smiled.

"It has been many long years since I have met one of your kind. You separated yourselves from us long before you hid yourself away from the others of Midgard." Harry frowned to himself. Wizards and the Norse gods had been involved? He had read nothing on the subject, but then, his knowledge of Greek and Roman mythology was more extensive than his knowledge of the Norse equivalents. Besides that, he only knew the muggle stories and beliefs. He had grown out of his interest in mythology before he came to Hogwarts. He had never thought it worth looking into.

Maybe he should, when given the chance.

"It's an honor, to meet a seidmann once more." Harry smiled, and leaned across Bruce to clasp Thor's outstretched hand. His grip was strong.

"It's an honor to meet you as well, Odinson." That was right, wasn't it? Odin was Thor's father?

"Thor, please." It seemed to be.

"Harry, then." Fury cleared his throat, and they were both distracted away from their proper introduction.

"We can leave the pleasantries for another time. Right now, we have bigger things to worry about than social niceties." Harry ducked his head slightly, properly chagrined.

"Sorry sir." Fury nodded sharply. Bruce drew the attention away from Harry by bringing them back to the issue at hand.

"Do we know where Loki plans to open the portal?"

"Somewhere in New York." The man with the bow told them. "He didn't tell me any details outside of that, so I don't know where in the city he'll go." He was definitely the agent Loki had taken then. Though, from the look of him now, he was free. Someone must have taken care of that. Harry's eyes flicked to Romanoff. Possibly her. She looked plenty capable of beating anyone up, if given the chance.

Except for the Hulk, of course.

And maybe not Thor either. He had survived a fall of who-knows-how-far inside that little glass cell. There probably wasn't all that much that stood a chance of taking him down.

"Should we evacuate the city?" Rogers asked, looking concerned.

"We can't." Fury intoned gravely. "We've tried to warn the local police, but they won't issue an evacuation without proof, which we can't give them. They don't have the clearance for it, so the council won't approve the action." Harry frowned. Council? He thought Fury led Shield. He hummed to himself. It seemed even the director had to answer to someone.

Come to think of it, Fury had mentioned a council yesterday, when he had been talking about weapons made through the use of the tesseract. Harry hadn't thought much on it then, but now that he was, it bothered him. Fury reminded Harry enough of Moody, that he thought it would probably be better if the man was right at the top. The Order had only begun to truly thrive after Dumbledore's death, when Moody had taken control away from McGonagall.

But then, he didn't yet know Fury well enough to know whether or not he could handle that kind of power without taking advantage of it.

"So we just let them get caught in the crossfire?" Rogers asked. He sounded horrified and angry, as Harry knew he should. He didn't at all like the idea himself. True that the magical neighborhoods and businesses would be well-protected by neighborhood wards, and the ability to flee by floo and portkey and apparition with ease. Every magical person in the city could be out in a matter of minutes, if it came down to it.

The muggles, on the other hand...

Dread filled his stomach like a heavy stone. There would be casualties. Today, people would die. There was no telling how many. Some might die painlessly, some might suffer.

And there was nothing they could do to completely prevent that.

Even if they began an evacuation now, there were just too many people. If Loki really intended to strike today, they wouldn't be able to get everyone out in time. Fury told Rogers as much in a cold voice. He sounded pissed. Harry imagined that Rogers and himself weren't the only ones unhappy about the situation. He put in his own input.

"We'll just have to do whatever we can to protect them." He said. "Keep Loki and his army's attention on us. Keep them occupied. The more they come after us, the less they can go after anyone else." Fury nodded.

"Exactly. That's why, when we have a ground zero, you lot will be right there. Mr. Black."

"Yes sir?"

"You think you can keep Loki occupied?" Thor looked like he wanted to protest. Harry thought he might want to handle Loki himself.

But then... It might be better if he did it, instead of Thor. Harry wouldn't hold back as much. He didn't know Loki personally, and, while he very much needed him alive, he knew very well that Loki could handle a beating, so he had no compunctions about hurting him. Thor, on the other hand, wouldn't even be able to do that much. He would probably treat it like a spar (if anything Harry had read in that file that concerned him was true), for fear of seriously harming Loki.

"I can try. If I can't, Thor can take over and I'll fight with the others."

"I will fight too!" The others at the table jumped at the loud hiss, and stared at the snake jumping up and down on his shoulders. Harry chuckled.

"Metis will help too." Tony actually looked up from his tablet.

"Metis?"

"She's a magical serpent, and she's quite a bit bigger than she looks at the moment." He tapped her collar. "This keeps her the size she is. I'll send her with one of you when we get out there, she'll have your backs."

"You speak as though she has intelligence." The mutant woman commented, her voice smooth and deep, and holding an accent he recognized from his time in Africa.

"She does. Metis is as intelligent as your average human being." The snake in question nodded wildly. The mutant woman raised a thin white eyebrow, but Harry turned his attention back to Fury. "Muhammad and I can fight, and so can Metis. Father can stay here, and brew healing potions and the like for any wounded you have after the battle. There's Tony, and Captain Rogers, Thor here, Bruce, or rather, Hulk." He glanced at Romanoff, and the other two, still unnamed people, for a moment feeling as though he might be overstepping by speaking as he was. He was not the one in charge here.

He wasn't the leader of these people.

"You lot will all be fighting?" They nodded.

"So we have them too. Who else have we got?"

"Miss Munroe is here on behalf of the Xavier Institute." He motioned a hand towards the mutant woman, and Harry was pleased to have a name for her now. He wondered what the Institute was. He had never heard of it, but then, he had never really been much involved in the muggle world; at least not since he had been very young. For all he knew, the Institute Fury spoke of could be very famous, and he still would never have heard about it. "She has a couple dozen mutants that are placing themselves throughout the city. They'll be fighting with us. I have fifty men ready to go, and we'll have the local police on our side when things get started. We can't involve the army," His eyes flicked briefly to Bruce. "the air force can't be involved either, because an air attack in the city could cause too many casualties. We've got the coast guard and the Marines on standby. They know a threat is imminent, but we didn't give them the details. They've sent some men into the city, and they'll be ready to go when it happens." Harry nodded.

"That's better than I thought. Do you think it will be enough?" He directed his question to Thor, who he felt would be more likely to know the most about the subject. Thor shrugged helplessly.

"I do not know. The allfather informed me that the Chitauri were vast in number, but he did not tell me how many there were. I do not know what power they hold beyond numbers. Perhaps it will be enough, perhaps not." He looked pained to admit he didn't know if they would win, and Harry didn't push it.

"So the most important thing right now is figuring out where he plans to open the portal." Tony said. Fury nodded. "We got any ideas?" Everyone was silent. "Any energy readings?" Fury shook his head.

"I've had my people keeping track of it, there's fluxuations all over the city, but nothing strong enough to indicate location." Tony sighed. Severus decided to voice what they had spoken of the day before, but hadn't known much about, before the attack.

"Loki allowed you to capture him, did he not?" The captain nodded.

"Yes. It was all too easy to me. He put on a show, but you're right when you say he let us."

"Why?" Severus asked. "You all are a threat to him, yes, but he did not need to allow himself to be captured to attack you. He did not need to attack so openly at all. With magic at his use, there are a thousand ways he could have dealt with you all, killed you even, that would not have needed such a face-to-face encounter." Tony snorted.

"He wanted to beat us, and he wanted to be scene doing it." He said bitterly. Harry dipped his head.

"Like Voldemort." He muttered to himself. He would never forget that night in the graveyard. At that point in time, he was still very weak. Voldemort could have killed him, easily, but he had chosen to set it up as a duel. He wanted to make his death eaters think he was giving Harry a fair chance, so that he could prove once and for all which of them was the most powerful. He wanted them to see for themselves that he was better than Harry.

It was only Harry's own insane luck, and their wands having brother cores, that had saved his life that night.

"Right," Rogers said. "I caught his act at Stuttgart." Stuttgart? Where was that? Was that where they had captured Loki? Tony nodded.

"Yea that's just a preview, this will be opening night." Everyone was listening to him, the turning gears in his head almost visible. "Loki's a full-tilt diva. He wants flowers, he wants parades, he wants a monument built to the skies with his name plastered-" He froze, then his face twisted up and he snarled. "Son of a bitch!" He leapt to his feet, and was running out of the room in a moments' time. Harry caught on, jumping up to follow him.

Loki was going to Stark Tower.

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They had piled into one of those jets, Romanoff immediately beginning to fly it. Harry watched her push various buttons and switches, and cause the craft to move. In awe, he saw Stark take his metal briefcase, something he had thought strange but had not considered more thoroughly, and push a button that opened it up and made it climb his body and wrap about him until he stood there in his suit. It was pretty incredible, and Harry marveled at how anyone could create such a thing. He felt a little more respect for Tony, when shown that no matter his personality or actions, he was still incredibly intelligent.

Thor pulled his hammer from his side, lifting it up to be ready. It cackled with invisible magic, and Harry grinned. One day, he would convince the God of Thunder to let him have a look at it. His hands itched to run themselves across the hammer's runes and learn all its' secrets.

His eyes widened and snapped to the window of the craft, his body shivering as he felt a pulse of magic. It was an incredible feeling, but it wasn't Loki's magic. Harry thought of the tesseract.

"You alright there half-pint?" Tony asked, his voice genuinely concerned, but altered by the metal mask he wore.

"It's starting." Almost as soon as he spoke, another pulse went out, and a blue beam suddenly shot up into the heavens. It didn't come exactly from Stark tower, but from next to it. They all watched gravely as it stopped at a point in the sky, and seemed to tear it. It opened, expanding into a hole into a place that looked black. Small figures began to fall from it.

"Natasha, open the back." Stark ordered. She did so, and a moment later he jumped from the open hangar of the craft with a nod towards Rogers, a loud sound starting and jets of bluish white lights coming from his feet and hands. It created a small wave of heat in their direction until he sped away, going much faster than their jet. Thor was next, and he looked at Harry as he raised his hammer.

"I will handle my brother until you arrive, my comrade." Harry nodded silently, and watched as the hammer itself seemed to pull him into the sky, his grip on it allowing him to fly. Munroe smiled at them, and then jumped herself. Harry felt wind whip into the jet, seeming to lift her up. Her eyes glowed as she flew away, and he did not miss the dark clouds forming in the sky above her as she left.

He watched this, and frowned. He felt... Strangely weak, when comparing himself to these people. Tony had his suit and his intellect. Thor was a god, with his hammer at his disposal. Munroe could apparently control the weather...

His eyes flicked over the others in the craft, not so much Bruce, as the two Shield agents, the captain and Muhammad. He was stronger than the four of them (as they were all normal human beings, so far as he was aware), he knew that much, and still they were all going out to fight...

Harry decided he would do whatever he could to keep them alive. His eyes flicked to the man he still didn't know.

"What's your name?" The agent glanced at him in surprise. He supposed that now wasn't really the best time to be asking for an introduction.

"Clint Barton." Harry nodded, and turned his head to Metis.

"Metis, go with this man. When we reach the ground, make yourself big again, and protect him." The others in the craft listened to his hissing with wide eyes, unsure what to make of it, except for Bruce and Moo, both of whom had witnessed it before. Metis nodded obediently, and slithered down Harry's arm. He looked up at Barton. "I've told her to go with you. She'll go back to her actual size when we land and watch your back." Barton looked a little surprised, and wary, but allowed Metis to climb up to his shoulders. He shifted around a moment, ensuring she wouldn't get in the way of his moving around, and looking less uncomfortable than the wizard might have expected him to be. When the agent was sure he could move well enough he nodded to himself.

"Thanks." Harry bobbed his head grimly, but they were coming up on the city. There wasn't much time to speak anymore.

Something struck the jet, and they all stumbled, Harry grasped one of the bars on the side, just managing to gain purchase enough to keep from falling, and throwing out an arm to keep Muhammad up. The lights of the console in front of Romanoff started flashing various colors, and a loud beeping noise began. The craft shuddered, and Romanoff brought them to the ground.

The landing was rough, the jet scraping and screeching along the concrete road, sending a high pitched roar through Harry's sensitive ears and leaving them ringing. He clung tightly enough to the metal that he nearly dented it. The jet shook and sputtered, and as they stopped the lights went dark and the beeping ended. The aircraft was dead.

Harry pushed the hanger door open with a grunt of effort, the metal sticking and then coming loose with a wrenching sound, and they all shuffled out, looking around themselves to try and see what was going on. He looked up and around at the world, taking it in.

It was chaos. Everywhere there was movement and damage; the smell of fire and blood already on the air and smoke rising up from many different places. Harry could hear sirens in the distance, screams, and the whooshing and explosive sounds of fighting. Above them strange creatures flew around on things that only vaguely resembled some combination of scooter and motorcycle. They were large distended crafts made of metal and purple lights; some of them holding one creature, some larger, with two or three.

The creatures themselves were horrifying. They were somewhat humanoid, with the same basic structure, but their faces were more animal looking. They appeared to Harry as though they were skinless constructs of grey muscle meshed together with metal like appalling versions of an alien frankenstein. They disgusted him, and he peeled back his lips in a sneer worthy of a Malfoy.

"Muhammad." He yelled over the noise.

"Ugly fuckers ain't they?" Harry chuckled.

"Sure are. You watch Romanoff's back. Roger's too where you can." Muhammad nodded, a grin on his face, and he gave Harry a mock-salute. He was looking forward to the fighting. Harry too, despite the worrisome situation, felt excitement and anticipation take root inside him. He looked to the Captain. "I'll go find Loki. You can handle things here can't you?" Rogers nodded.

"We've got this." Harry, thankful for his own thinking ahead, pulled his shrunken firebolt from one of his bracers, and was running even as he enlarged it. He didn't bother to look back, already hearing them begin to fight behind him.

Then he was in the air, pushing his broom as fast as it could go, revelling in the air making his hair whip around behind him. It had been a time since he had flown on it, but it wasn't something you forgot how to do. He cast spells where he could, laughing eagerly as Chitauri after Chitauri fell.

"Bombarda! Reducto! Quasso! Lacero! Crepitus!" It had been a long time since he had been able to use his magic in this way, and he revelled in it as it surged through him eagerly; as ready to fight and create destruction as he was. Above him he heard thunder, and he looked up. There were dark clouds near Stark tower, so he headed that way. It was either Munroe or Thor or both, and Loki would be wherever Thor was.

It was Thor. He and Loki were there, on a landing of some sort and trading blows. Thor punched and swung and brought his hammer down, never putting full force behind it. Loki danced around him with ease, blocking every blow with his scepter, and grinning like a madman. He caught sight of Harry, and in that moment of distraction Thor had a instant's advantage. The hammer swung and the spear went flying, landing a little below them. Harry touched down a bit behind Thor, close enough to see Loki's face, as Thor pulled him close by the collar. He reshrunk his broom and put it away as the thunder god began speaking.

"Look at this!" He screamed at Loki. "Look around you! You think this madness will end with your rule?" Harry saw the blue haze on his eyes flicker as he looked out at the chaos.

"It's too late. It's too late to stop it." He said quietly, desperately.

"No." Thor pleaded. "We can. Together." For a moment Harry saw the blue vanish completely. But then it was back, and he wasn't fast enough to stop Loki stabbing his brother. As Thor fell away, off the building, Harry knew he would survive it. Loki hissed something to himself, but then he was looking at Harry, and the cruel expression he wore disappeared into blankness. He and Harry stared at each other in silence for several seconds, the noise of the battles around them going unnoticed.

"I don't want to fight you." Loki told him, blue shifting once more.

"I don't want to fight you either." Harry confided. Loki dipped his head.

"But you will."

"Yes. I will." Loki's lip twitched.

"So be it then."

The time for speaking was done now, and in an instant, they both struck.

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I seriously don't mean to have as many cliff-hangers in this fic as I do, it's just that I stop where it fits best, and that ends up being at parts like this more often than not.

There's only one more chapter in this part (didn't spend much time in the Avengers movie, did we?). Part 5 will cover some of the aftermath stuff, going to Asgard, and the first pairing. Part 6 will go through Thor 2, and also focus on Loki's other children (mostly original plotline there), before we come back to Earth in, probably, Part 7. I'm not 100% on what happens after that, but I will tell you know that I'm disregarding Iron Man 3. We're pretending that didn't happen.

This is going to be a long story yea?

So I'll see you all next Saturday (or at least, it's Saturdays where I am).

Sincerely,

Mr. Hate