Teeth

by hathanhate

It starts with an animagus transformation gone wrong and leads to a journey Harry never expected. Come along for the ride as he faces war and change and the consequences of growing older; gaining a family and new friends and power he never could have imagined along the way. M/F, M/M pairings, mostly gen. Slow pace. (Under review, editing and reposting here and on AO3)

48. Part Five, Chapter Twelve

Thank you to everyone who has read and reviewed and stuck with this story!

Beta: Zerubel

Not much to say at the moment but there's a note at the end. This is a weird chapter. I saw a post on Tumblr the other day about how making characters never works out the way you expect because you'll plan them out and they wind up running through a field naked flipping you the bird and-

I relate to that so much right now.

I'll explain, sort of, in my end-note. For now-

Enjoy.

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Hogwarts looked just like he remembered, and now, with much of the bad times behind him, Harry could stand in her grand halls with a grin on his face and remember the good times. It was much easier to recall how this school had become his first home now than it had been back when he'd fled to Bogdon just months before the end of the war against Voldemort. Harry found himself in the entrance hall, Teddy clinging to his hand and chattering away about something or other, and Tonks ahead of them, leading them away from the room and up the stairs towards Moony's office and private quarters. His godson's hair was a cheerful yellow in reflection of his happiness.

School was still in session at the moment, but it was the weekend, so most of the students were either in Hogsmeade or their dorms, and they passed only a handful of younger students, most of whom looked at them curiously but left them alone. They were too young to have been there when Harry was at school, and the loose bits of his hair covered his scar enough that they didn't notice it. Harry watched them fondly, wondering if he had been so small... Actually, given his short stature, he'd probably been smaller.

"He did most of his grading for the week already, so he shouldn't be so busy that we can't kidnap him for a bit." Tonks called back, looking at them over her shoulder and nearly tripping over the stone tiles as a result. Teddy watched with a giggle, and his mother's hair and face turned red. "Heh heh." She grinned sheepishly, but continued talking, this time keeping her eyes ahead of her. "I figure we can eat brunch together and then go off to Hogsmeade for a little, duck into Honeydukes and the toy shop they have there too." Her son looked suitably excited at the prospect. "We can maybe even floo home to Grimmauld for the evening and eat there later."

"Sounds good to me." She grinned at him, managing not to trip this time, and they continued on.

"You've got to stop in and see McGonagall before you leave the castle though. She wants to see you."

"Yea?" He hadn't spoken to his former head of house in ages. Tonks hummed an affirmative noise but was quiet. Harry took in the many recognizable portraits (some of them waved and called out greetings) on the walls, listening to Teddy's babbling with half an ear. It was a strange, wonderful feeling; the familiarity. Everything from the smell (wood and stone and old books and trees), to the tapping of his boots on the stone, to the sight of the many, varied suits of armor and tapestries, brought back memories; some good, some bad. He thought about laughing and chatting with Ron and Hermione as they made their way through the halls back in his early years, fleeing fire and death and masked men and women, snowball fights with various Weasleys, being scolded by an angry potion master-

A notable chunk of his life, his childhood, had taken place in this castle, and it was... comforting, in a way, to be reminded of it all.

And then a pair of ghosts drifted through the wall, chatting together. His steps faltered, and it took quite a bit of self-control to keep his face in the pleasant expression it had been in before. He hadn't been around spirits in ages, not since leaving Hogwarts. They mostly only manifested in places that were either highly saturated in natural magic, or places of great emotional turmoil that, while not necessarily high in natural magic, had a slight bit more of it than other places. There were a few singular ghosts, here and there, mostly among muggles (since most magical homes and buildings had wards and spells to prevent such things), when someone who'd passed on was stubborn enough to stick around whether there was magic there to support their existence or not.

But most of the places where all the conditions were met were older and/or more isolated buildings, and Harry had mostly spent his time in newer buildings and highly populated cities for quite a while. The last place he'd been in that had ghosts had been a small cafe in India down the street from Bruce's old apartment. They'd eaten there a number of times, and the building had once been a very small temple. One of the monks who had died there had stuck around, and had spent most of their visit meditating and people watching, so Harry hadn't interacted with him at all, beyond smiling at each other twice; once when they got there, and again when they left.

He hadn't looked any different than Harry was accustomed to. Transparent and a sort of silver-blue-green in overall color. But these two-

Harry recognized them, vaguely. He didn't know their names (they weren't any of the house ghosts or members of the headless hunt), but he'd seen them around from time to time when he'd attended school here. Except, the last time he'd seen them, he knew they'd been normal ghosts too. But right now, they didn't look like it.

They looked like Sirius had, the one time he'd summoned him up. Still transparent but somewhat less so, and colored, dully, like old photographs. His mind spun, but he did his best not to show it. This had to be connected to the Hallows. He just knew it, but what had triggered it? It couldn't have been the first time he'd used the ring, because that had been before the ghost in India. He suspected the objects changing themselves to suit him, but he had no way to be sure. There was just under a year or so of time between the last time he'd seen a spirit and now. All sorts of things had happened during that time. He had no closer frame of reference, and, as such, no way to prove the theory right or wrong.

With a small sigh (he was getting too used to strange happenings for comfort) he put it out of his mind. Right now he was getting ready to spend the day with Remus and his family. He could afford to contemplate the weird things in his life, and theorize about their causes later.

Remus' office, and the personal rooms attached to it, was right next to the DADA classroom. It was on the second floor right where Harry remembered it. The door to said classroom was ajar, and as they passed it to knock on the next door, Harry glanced in and noted the familiar tank with its grindylow, like Remus had had during his first attempt at professorship back during Harry's third year. The little creature inside peaked at him curiously as he passed, and he was reminded of the ones in the lake, and how they always liked to follow and cling to him; far more docile in his presence than they were known for being.

Maybe he could take a trip into the lake before he left Hogwarts.

Then the door to Remus' office opened, Teddy excitedly leapt forward to hug his father, and Harry put it out of his mind.

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Harry sat happily on the grass, munching on some fruit. It was a nice day, warm with a breeze, a rare sort of thing. He leaned back on his hands, his eyes tracking Teddy as he ran about at the bottom of the hill they (he and Remus) sat lazily on. Hogsmeade was behind them and the treeline not far from where his godson was playing, being chased after by Tonks. She was hard-pressed to keep up with the rambunctious little boy, who was playing keep-away. Harry had been chasing after the little cub himself until just a few moments ago. It had been fun, but at the moment he was more than happy to relax for a few minutes. Teddy hadn't tired him out, not really, but he was a handful all the same. Besides, it was almost as much fun watching Tonks play seekers and snitches with him (and trip every so often as she did) as it had been to do so himself.

"He's got so much energy." Remus remarked. "It's difficult to keep up with him." Harry grinned at him.

"You sound like an old man." He teased, and the older man gave him a smile that was somewhat bittersweet.

"I am an old man, Harry." He said wryly, and turned his gaze back on his wife and son. The animagus snickered. As they watched, Teddy successfully maneuvered away from Tonks in such a way that she tripped again. Then he leapt on her back. They both chuckled at her disgruntled expression. "Dora said you watched him and Scorpius the other day. I don't know how you managed."

"I don't either, to be honest." They shared a bit of a laugh at that, and fell silent again.

"So..." He turned to look at Remus properly, something about his tone catching Harry's attention and dampening their current carefree atmosphere. "That place you disappeared to, has it been as dangerous as you thought it would be?"

"I never said it was dangerous."

"No. But the implication was there." They stared off for a moment, and then Harry looked away.

"It hasn't really been dangerous, no, but it has the potential to be." The Asgardians were out of his league. If things ever went sour... Well, he'd have magic on his side at least, and he'd use whatever sneaky dirty tricks he had if it came to it. They fought honorably, and if he had to, he'd use that against them. Honor didn't mean nearly as much to him as the safety of his brothers and himself.

"You're going back there, aren't you?" Remus looked worried, but resigned. He wasn't trying to talk the younger wizard out of it, Harry could see.

"I have to."

"Why though? You- Harry you haven't even told me where you've been. Why do you have to-" He stopped, waving a hand in frustration at not even knowing how to finish the question properly. Then he stopped. "Does this-" He hesitated, a sort of realization, and something not unlike fear, taking over his features. He lowered his voice. "Harry, does this have to do with Sirius? With- with that ring?" He gestured towards the animagus' hands, and Harry curled his fingers and put his hands in his lap as though to hide said ring from sight. He was a little startled at the turn of the conversation.

"No." He responded quickly. "Well," He bit his lip. He'd trusted Lucius with the story. Why was it so much harder to trust Remus? "I promised a... Friend," He wasn't sure he really considered Hel such. Their relationship was a strange and strained one. "that I would so something for them. This is... It has to do with that." Remus watched him with narrowed eyes, but recognized that he wasn't likely to get more out of him. He sighed, running a hand through his hair (he'd cut it since Harry last saw him. It was short and neat, very professor-ly) in clear frustration.

"Sirius was like that you know. Once he made a promise he was stubborn as a mule about keeping it." He sighed again. "I just worry about you. You're family, Harry." The animagus smiled at him, feeling loved (and guilty). "I don't want for you to leave here and never come back again. I don't want you to just disappear without ever knowing what happened to you. I've been so afraid, all this time, that after you left last time, I'd never see you again; that something terrible would happen to you and you would die."

"Remus-"

"It's alright Harry. Well- It's not alright, and I can't say I understand, but... Just-" He looked frustrated. "Come back again, alright? Promise me you will." His eyes were serious, and a deeper gold than Harry had ever seen them; the wolf within as close to the surface as the wolfsbane the man took would allow. He hesitated only a moment.

"I promise." The gold faded a bit, and Remus' eyes settled back to a warm auburn. He nodded. Harry looked down, fiddling with his leather jacket a bit (there was a hole in the sleeve he would need to repair), and then looked up again, wanting to say something more. He wasn't sure what. Some placating remark about how he would be careful, or something, but he never got the chance to say it, because he was promptly tackled by his blue-haired godson.

He fell to the side with a surprised 'oof'. Remus' laughter filled the air, Tonks' own growing louder as she approached them, and Harry grinned.

The carefree atmosphere returned alongside his godson, and Harry was happy to enjoy it while it lasted.

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She's changed things. Harry thought to himself as he entered the headmaster's, now headmistress', office. He remembered the last time he'd been there; the many knickknacks and twirling devices. There'd been less of them than his first time there, given the day his magic had lashed out at the room's items in a fit of angry destruction. McGonagall had gotten rid of most of the ones that had been left. The shelves had more books, and the occasional picture frame, than anything else. There were a few exceptions: one or two familiar objects from Dumbledore's tenure, a small number of potted plants, and a little chest. The portraits of previous headmasters and headmistresses were just the same as they'd always been, and, somewhat to Harry's surprise, Fawkes was there too, settled on his perch and looking brilliant enough to tell the animagus he was right in the middle of the time between burning days.

He trilled at Harry when he saw him, the note fond and pleasant, if not as warm as such a greeting may once have been (like before Harry became an animagus). To his surprise however, the bird leapt off his perch and flew to him. He put his arm out instinctively, accustomed to Hedwig doing so. The phoenix landed there, and met his gaze for a long moment, before crawling up his arm to settle on his shoulder. He wasn't wearing his armor for once, and the bird's claws (and the heat of his magic) were a little uncomfortable, but Harry, happy to be acknowledged by the immortal avian, bore it without complaint.

McGonagall was just as Harry remembered her. She looked just as she always had, with her dark hair pulled into a bun and her sharp eyes watching him carefully over the rim of her glasses. She maybe had a few more grey hairs, but that was all. She smiled at him though, not something he knew her to do often, and it smoothed out the stern expression she usually wore.

"Hello Professor."

"Hello Mr. Black." Ah, Remus must have told her. "I see you're in fine health. I was worried you might be unwell, given how rarely you visit."

"Of course." He grinned at her, a little sheepish at her tone. He knew his former head of house well enough to recognize the reprimand. "Life has just been a little hectic. I'm sure I can try to visit more often though." Her lips twitched a bit and she nodded.

"Tea?" She waved a hand at the tray on the side of her desk.

"Yes ma'am." She poured him a cup, and Harry's eyes flicked distractedly over the many portraits behind her. Some of them were chatting in low tones, creating a sort of murmur in the background, others were snoring in their frames, and some were watching him and the Headmistress.

"It's good to see you, Harry." He took his cup from her, a little startled by the use of his first name. "You may no longer be a student here, but that doesn't mean I don't like to know how you're doing." She hummed a bit to herself while Harry took a sip of his tea, not sure what to say and feeling uncharacteristically embarrassed by her care. "That said, I didn't call you here just for a social visit, pleasant though that would be."

"Is something wrong?" His mind immediately swirled with thoughts of the Order and some imaginary death eater successfully evading capture these past years.

"In a way. It's not too serious." She picked up her own cup of tea and took a sip. "After The Battle, we started looking at Hogwarts' wards. They've waned over the years. I don't think they've been updated or recharged in centuries. A lot of the castle defenses that are meant to activate when enemies make it beyond the wards are still in place, but the wards themselves are much weaker than they should be. It's not that they've fallen, just-"

"They've faded." It was like the wardrobe Draco had needed his help with. The wood had worn down over time, and the runes had needed to be recarved and charged with magic. She nodded. "It's not extreme, they just need an update." She put her cup down and gave him a look that was so reminiscent of that 'I-know-you-did-something-but-I-don't-know-what-yet' look he'd get as a student that it made him squirm in his chair. "Unfortunately we haven't been able to find the Heart-Room for Hogwarts. There's very few mentions of it in texts. Some of the portraits, however, have suggested you may have some idea of where to look." Harry blinked. "And Remus tells me you've become quite gifted with runes."

"Well I-"

"School will be in session for a couple more months yet, but in the summertime," She paused. "I understand you haven't taken your Mastery test yet. Do so."

"I-"

"Preferably before the end of the summer. Then send me an owl. I'd like to commision you to update the wards."

"Profe-"

"I assume you'll agree to do it?" She watched him expectantly, and he deflated a little with a heavy sigh.

"Alright." He offered reluctantly, and she nodded, a pleased smile taking over her face.

"Excellent. Would you like a biscuit?" Fawkes gave forth a wobbly sort of trill.

Harry just knew the stupid bird was laughing at him.

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In the end he decided not to go into the Forbidden Forest (next time, he promised himself), but he couldn't resist a trip into the water. He'd gone for a dip the night before, in the lower dungeons, but it wasn't the same as the Black Lake. So he snuck just far enough into the forest so as not to be seen. It was a new moon, and very dark, but his eyes were good enough to find his way just fine. He stripped down to his armor and hid his clothes and things in the hollow of a tree, and then with the sounds of cracking bones and shifting organs the mishipeshu slipped into familiar waters.

He growled, pleased, as the taste of the water flowed over his gills, and made his way down and through the small forest of seaweed that banked all sides of the lake. There were some squeals and noises of curiosity that twisted into delighted noises as the grindylows came out of hiding and clung to him, touching and poking at his scales and horns and mane, clinging to him. He chuckled at them, a great huffing sound in this form, and they chittered back as though speaking. They were happy to see him. He remembered what menaces they'd been during the second task of the Triwizard Tournament, and thought to himself that no one would believe him if he told them about how they were behaving now. It was familiar to him though. and he settled down till his paws touched the lakebed, using his magic to stick and walk along it as was normal for him.

What was not familiar or normal was the fact that the grindylows stayed with him as he exited the seaweed. He was used to them staying behind and calling, often mournfully, after him. As he approached the merpeople's village, he understood. He changed back, the grindylows making shocked squeaks and popping noises. Some of them swam off, but a handful stayed. One of them settled up on his shoulders, holding onto his hair, another clung to his waist, and he could feel two more grasping his tail. He put a hand around the one on his middle, petting its head, and kept walking.

The village was silent. Its stone buildings, with their seashell decorations, all empty. He knew they'd left for the ocean, but he thought they might have come back by now. He entered the center of the village, stopping to look at the great stone effigy Ron had once been tied to. He'd spent most of the times he'd visited the lake on the outskirts of the village, playing with the children and speaking with Moonscale. He swam to it then though, touching the rough pock-marked rock, and hummed.

His hand fingered the shell that hung around his neck. Should he call for them? She'd said he could, any time that he needed. He didn't need to though, but- He bit his lip, pushing away a grindylow's small hand as it tried to poke at his nose and having it chitter at him. Maybe they hadn't come back because they didn't know they could. After all, they'd left in the first place because Harry told them of the war. Without help from the surface, they had no way of knowing that the war had ended.

Hesitantly, he pulled the shell up to his lips, and spoke into it, his words humming with the music of the merpeople's tongue.

"Come home. It's safe now." The shell glowed a seafoam green when he spoke, and settled back. He let it fall to his chest. He swam away from the statue.

He stayed in the lake for several hours, playing with the grindylows, and even the squid at one point. He caught and ate fish and shared his bounty with the little creatures. He waited.

The merpeople did not return, and Harry went home for the night.

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He returned to Bogdon that night, happy with the time he'd spent with the Lupin family and in the lake (even though he'd been mostly alone), and putting aside his stresses about how he was going to complete the future task McGonagall had set for him. He would return to New York the next afternoon, but for now he had a few things left to take care of at Bogdon. So he came back, sat down and ate his dinner, and then ventured down to his rooms. He passed his bedroom up for his personal library, and for the secure cabinet Harry had had Kreacher move there.

He'd had it in his bedroom before, but he'd thought this might be a better place for it. It had once held Voldemort's horcruxes, but at the moment it contained only a single object, and Harry eyed it with trepidation for a long moment before he opened the cabinet.

Loki's scepter was just as Harry remembered it; all sleek metal inlaid with near-invisible rune-chains. The stone set at the head cast a pale blue glow over the inside of the cabinet, and Harry's black scales when he reached his hands in and grabbed it. It was still beautiful to him, given his love of runes. He brought it over to a table he usually had books set upon, and laid it down, running a hand along the shaft, fingers tracing the thin lines of symbols engraved there. With the things he'd been learning from Asgard's library, he had a much deeper understanding of the meanings than he'd used to. His eyes raked over the few runes and marks that had once been foreign to him, his mind going over the knowledge he'd since acquired and comparing it to what he already knew about the scepter's purpose. With every realization, every confirmation of what he'd already suspected, his green eyes narrowed, pupils slitting dangerously.

"It's a wand." He murmured to himself. Well, sort of. The scepter, as he'd already begun to believe, served as a container and amplifier for the stone at the head. Some of them were, of course, designed to direct the stone's power in specific ways, such as to use it to manipulate people's minds, and also to allow it to create concentrated destructive blasts. But all of the power itself-

It was all the stone; the core of the scepter.

He'd reached out and felt the magic of it before, and he remembered it well enough to not be all that thrilled with trying again, but he'd only done a sort of cursory check. He needed to study it more in-depth, and that meant reaching out to it again.

"Kreacher."

"Yes Master?" The elf popped in, expression expectant.

"Are you able to create a shock with your magic?" He knew a little more about what house elves were capable of than some, but not enough to be sure.

"Yes..." Kreacher's voice was cautious, uncertain.

"I'm going to be studying this stone with my magic, if I haven't pulled out of it and dismissed you an hour from now, you need to shock me." Just in case. "Can you do that?" The elf grimaced, and pulled at one of his ears in an anxious gesture he'd seen Dobby do, but never Kreacher. House elves were not accustomed to the thought of intentionally harming their masters, but if it proved necessary...

"Kreacher will do so." His voice was strained, but he would obey.

"Thank you." Harry sat himself in one of the table's two chairs and motioned for Kreacher to take the other. He looked like a child sitting in it, given that his feet barely hung over the edge of the cushion. He watched Harry warily, and the animagus ignored him, turning back to the scepter with a steadying breath. He put his hand above it, and then, cautiously, touched it directly, since that would make it easier. It was cold, like touching a chunk of ice and he stiffened in surprise. The stone's surface was faceted, and Harry, finally, reluctantly, sent his magic into it.

Cold and hard, just like he remembered it. Not particularly aligned any one way, but- He wouldn't know how to describe it verbally, not in any way that made sense. He let his magic settle, growing used to the feeling as best he could. It was not unlike sitting in a dark room and waiting for your eyes to adjust well enough to see. Of course, it was uncomfortable, at least for Harry. The magic of the stone was so different from his own. It was foreign, and that alone put him on edge.

But after a little time (he couldn't have been sure of how long, exactly) he started to get more comfortable, and began noticing the more subtle aspects of it. There was a sort of... metallic tang to it, and something that tickled his senses with familiarity. He frowned, and 'poked' at it several times before he realized what he was feeling.

It was a shield. The stone was a shield. It was protecting something deeper, something at the center; fooling his senses into thinking he had already immersed himself in it when there was another layer underneath. He growled, and pushed, trying to break through to what was hidden underneath.

The stone pushed back.

Harry reeled and with a gasp found himself lying on the floor of the library, Kreacher hovering worriedly over him. He sat up quickly. His tail had knocked the table down and pushed the chair backwards when he fell, and the scepter lay on its side on the floor. The light of the stone pulsed once and was still. He watched it, wide-eyed, and decided maybe this was something he should wait to deal with until the next time he came to Earth.

His hands shook when he put it back in the cabinet, and when he left the castle the next day, there were many more protective and binding spells on the cabinet than there had been.

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The animagus curled into his bed with a sigh. Gods it was good to be home. The sounds of cars and city life, dulled to a slight drone via the spells on the windows, was like music to his ears, and the unique smell of his home was extremely comforting; a light scent that was a mix of potion fumes, food, old books, tobacco, moth balls, and hospital cleaner. He hummed and rubbed his face against his pillow, feeling dramatic about it all and laughing at himself. The smile stayed for a few moments, and then faded away. When had life become so complicated?

Harry remembered a time where he slept in a cupboard and made friends with spiders; a time when his biggest worries were his chores and whether or not he'd eaten dinner that night, but this-

Fixing Loki, being King of Niflheim, dealing with aliens and secrets, the Hallows, the scepter, the Avengers, the Asgardians, the Wizengamot-

The number of troubles he had to face...

"I'd never go back." He whispered to himself. He wouldn't. Even if he had the power to, he'd never turn the clock back to that cupboard. Not for anything. The animagus closed his eyes and sighed. He always had the nasty tendency to become melancholic when he was alone. He thought too much and stressed himself out. It was why, despite the fact that he did like having time to himself occasionally, he wasn't meant to be alone for too long. There was no helping it just then though. Severus and Bruce were both at work, and the twins and Muhammad both likely wouldn't be back until-

He paused, a slight disturbance in the townhouse's wards catching his attention. His brow creased. Muhammad was home early, it seemed. He got up, slipping out of his room and down the stairs. He hummed when he reached the bottom floor and didn't see the other right away, and then headed into the kitchen. There he was, sitting at the table and uncharacteristically staring into space, looking out of sorts. Far more concerning, however was-

"You're hurt!" The Arab looked up at him, blinking slowly as though he hadn't noticed he was there, and shrugged.

"Nothing serious." Harry frowned and came forward to get a good look, concerned but not all that upset because, as he'd said, it didn't look serious. His lip was split open. It was swollen, with a line of dried blood flaking off along his chin. His cheek was bruised, and there was another bruise on his collarbone, disappearing into the top of his tank top. He wondered if there were more. "You should see the other guy." He joked, and Harry grabbed his hands from the table, looking over the swollen bloody knuckles. They'd split open in several places, and were bruised, clearly more damaged than his face. He pushed each of his fingers back and Moo winced enough times to make it clear at least three of them were broken. Harry wanted to ask, but-

But Muhammad had gotten in bar brawls before, and had come in the door looking to be patched up with a sneer on his face; ranting and cussing up a storm or smirking smugly. That he was so quiet worried Harry. He wasn't sure he should ask. So he bit his lip, uncertain, and moved away to rummage under the sink for the little first aid kit he knew his father kept there. He'd stashed one on every floor, just in case. He set the little wooden box on the table, pulling out a potion for pain, and another that would take care of the bones. He went about getting a rag and wetting it next, and came back to Moo, who watched him through it all with a numb sort of expression and not a single word.

The animagus sat down beside the other male and went about carefully wiping away the dried (and wet, on a few of his knuckles) blood. He got him to drink the potions, and cast a few episkeys. He couldn't seal the cuts all the way, but it was enough, and he gathered some bandages to wrap up what was left. He'd just finished, his hands still holding one of Muhammad's up, when the other closed his fingers around one of his hands, holding it back and garnering his attention. Harry watched him, worried, and stayed still when he leaned forward and rested his forehead against the animagus' shoulder, his thumb running lazy circles over the back of Harry's hand. He put his free hand on Moo's upper arm, feeling unsure and worried.

"Moo?"

"Just-" He stopped. "Just give me a minute Harry." His voice was low, and it cracked at the end, alarming the younger wizard even more, but he stayed silent and still, the only sound between them being Muhammad's loud breathing. He wondered if he should take a look at his ribs to check for breaks and cracks. He'd seen the bruise (and he planned to bust out the bruise-cream next), but he hadn't considered that there might be further damage.

Several minutes passed before Moo sighed heavily. He pulled away and looked at Harry, something in his gaze heavy. Then he abruptly smiled and rubbed a hand over the animagus' head, mussing his hair and forcing his head down a bit. Harry cursed and Moo chuckled, letting his hand fall down to rest on the younger male's cheek. He'd never touched Harry that way before and something about it felt strange.

"I love you, you know." Harry blinked, the worry in his gut churning even further, because he knew that, of course, but Moo had never actually said it before. Something was terribly wrong, but he didn't know what. A simple fist-fight couldn't possibly account for Muhammad's strange mood.

"I love you too." He responded hesitantly, but genuinely. Something dark flickered over the Arab's face, too quick to be deciphered, but then he grinned. It was a real expression, one part happy, one part smug, and two parts mischief. He patted Harry's cheek, hard enough to annoy him but not hard enough to hurt.

"Of course you do. I'm fucking amazing." Harry snorted, and Moo snickered at him, the heavy air easing up, and the knot in the animagus' stomach easing with it. He let his hand fall, and the other let go of Harry's. "Now help me get up you idiot, I want to sleep on the couch. It's a lumpy piece of shit but I'm not about to walk up fucking stairs." He was back to himself, and Harry rolled his eyes, but still helped get him on his feet.

"Asshole."

"Ikhras."

"Telhas Teeze." Moo actually blinked twice at the curse and Harry laughed at him.

Harry got him settled and managed (with an argument that involved several insults and enough cursing to make a sailor blush) to use the bruise cream on him; he was thankful to discover there were no broken or cracked ribs or contusions to contend with, and he didn't think Muhammad had a concussion.

He didn't know what the hell had happened, but Moo was part of his family, and as long as the older male was back to normal, he would try not to worry himself about it.

Not that that meant he wouldn't be keeping an eye on Muhammad for a while, to make sure it didn't happen again, because he definitely would.

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He had breakfast with his father and Bruce the next morning, and noting Moo was conspicuously absent, had gone searching through the house for him. He found him in the library of all places, reading a book. He couldn't recall the other male ever reading anything other than magazines, and he was almost certain Muhammad had never stepped foot in the library. Even more alarming was the fact that as soon as he entered the room, the Arab shrunk the book (as well as a few others on the table), and stuck them in his pocket. If nothing else, the declaration that he would be borrowing them whether Harry wanted him to or not was in-character for him. It was enough to make him suspicious, but not so much, at least, that he thought the other man was an imposter or something.

Only adding to the suspicion he did feel, however, was the fact that he recognized at least one of those books as belonging to the collection from the Founder's library, the majority of which he kept at Bogdon. He'd had permanent portkeys made for Moo, his father, and Bruce (he'd had another two made for each of the twins while he was in London this visit), so they were the only ones aside from himself that could get into and out of the castle as they pleased.

But there was a reason the founders had locked all that knowledge up, and he very much wondered what it was the older wizard was reading about. Not that Muhammad would tell him, of course, but still; it was concerning at the least. If nothing else though, his worries regarding Moo distracted his mind from his many other troubles. It was a double-edged sword, trading one concern for another. Of course, his problems with the newly-secretive member of his family came with enough insults and friendly arguments to leave Harry in an emotional state that was a combination of irritation and amusement.

Both of which were preferable to the panic, frustration, and anger he sometimes felt about everything else.

After breakfast they all went to Stark Tower, or, as Harry knew it was now called: Avenger's Tower. It was under construction a bit, and had been since before they'd first left for Asgard, but it was closer now to completion than it had been. It looked sleeker than ever, with a number of windows added in and the overhang that served as a helipad being pushed farther out. After the battle of New York, all the letters of Stark's name, barring the 'A', had broken off. That same 'A' had been cleaned up and repaired, with a circle added around it. It wasn't completely done, but it looked good to Harry's eyes.

Most of the city, in fact, was still under construction. Harry saw no more rubble in the streets, but there were a few large buildings that were being rebuilt still, a couple that were just gone, and there were some streets that were still closed off while they remade them entirely; the structural damage between sewer and surface being too great to simply fix up the cracks and call it done.

The city was recovering after the blow it had taken, and it was doing so with all the determination and pig-headedness and 'we-won't-let-this-get-us-down-ness' that the human race had to offer. It was humbling to see it as they walked to the tower. They'd gotten a cab (and that had been a very tight fit with the four of them) from outside their magical neighborhood to one closer by. Now they were walking the rest of the way, because, although they could have apparated nearer, that would involve one of them (probably Moo, since he was the best at it) taking Bruce side-along. Given the way apparition felt, they decided it probably wasn't the best idea to put him under that stress if it wasn't absolutely necessary.

Because yes, the Hulk listened to Harry, but it took a bit once Bruce had changed for him to change back, and there was no need to frighten people in the meantime.

"Welcome." Jar-something (Harry couldn't recall for certain what he was called) said, once they'd gotten there and arrived in the elevator, and Harry jumped. "My apologies. It wasn't my intention to startle you." Moo snickered beside him and Bruce smiled. His father stood behind him, where he couldn't see his expression.

"Er, it's alright. Um, thank you. How are you today?" Bruce looked away from him, his hand coming up over his mouth the way it did when he was trying not to laugh at something, and Harry wondered what was so funny.

"I'm quite well, thank you. Mr. Stark would like to speak with you personally. He's in his lab. Shall I stop the elevator there?" Harry paused.

"Just me?"

"Yes sir." He turned to look at Severus.

"We'll wait in the living quarters for you." He told him quietly.

"Alright." He raised his voice a little, looking up towards the elevator ceiling, since he wasn't sure where else to look when talking to a disembodied voice. "That's fine, thank you."

"You're most welcome sir." Almost immediately the elevator stopped and opened with a ding onto a very modern hallway with metal floors, and large panes of glass along the walls. Harry stepped out, the doors closing behind him and sending the rest of his close family (bar the two redheaded members) upwards.

"Um." He paused. "I'm sorry, but I can't remember your name."

"Jarvis."

"Jarvis." He repeated. "Right, sorry."

"That's quite alright sir."

"Uh, could you tell me which way to go, Jarvis?" He questioned, looking down the length of the long hallway.

"Go forward, it will be the third door on your left. It will open when you reach it."

"Thank you."

"You're welcome." He did as he'd been instructed, and, just as the A.I. had told him, a glass panel that hadn't looked any different to him than the rest of the wall slid aside when he was about halfway down the hall. He peeked his head in.

Well, this was clearly another space Tony had been renovating.

Half of the ceiling of Tony's new lab was shorter than the old one (or maybe he had more than one and the lab he'd scanned and studied Harry in was somewhere else in the building; he couldn't remember what floor it had been on), and the other half was higher up. There was a sort of loft on the higher side (Harry swore he could see a bar up there), and the shorter side looked as though there was a close room above them. Everything was metal and glass, and everywhere he looked there were computer screens and various pieces of equipment. One wall had glass cases each with a different metal suit, most of them painted red and gold, though there were a couple steel-colored ones. Each of them looked slightly different, and Harry assumed they were either older models or each had different abilities. The closed room above them had a glass floor, and through it Harry could see more equipment and several metal... Robots, he decided, in blue, white, and silver. He might have thought they were suits, but all of Tony's suits were larger than he was, so that there would be space for him inside them, but the robots were a little smaller, and there were some that had been designed to look female. He wondered what they were for.

Tony himself was working at a lab table on the far side of the room (and there was a whole wall of glass there that looked on to the outside world). He was wearing goggles, and poking around one of the robots with a tool of sorts that created sparks. There was music playing, though not very loudly. Harry could hear the sound of Tony's tool over it. He approached cautiously, both not wanting to startle the other man and not wanting to touch anything. This place made him more nervous than either of the other labs he'd been in. He pulled his magic in as close as he could, worried.

"Jarvis said you wanted to talk to me?" He inquired, once he'd gotten closer and the billionaire had set his tool aside to inspect something. He didn't jump, so Harry thought maybe he'd known the animagus was there.

"Yup. Can you pass me that little drill? On the stand behind you." Harry turned, blinking at the little table behind him and the many tools there. He looked over them all, and bit his lip. None of them looked even remotely like any sort of drill he was familiar with. But there was one long tool that had a thin piece on the end that looked somewhat like a drill bit, so he grabbed that one and handed it to him uncertainly. "Thanks." Apparently it was the right one. "You can sit down." He kept on working on the robot, but motioned to the empty space on the table next to its' head. Harry pulled himself up and sat there with his legs swinging back and forth, watching the engineer work curiously.

"What are you doing?" The man opened his mouth to respond, then paused, actually looked at Harry for the first time, and finally spoke, apparently amending what he had originally planned to say based on who he was talking to.

"You guessed about the drill didn't you?" Harry flushed, and Tony grinned at him. "I'm making repairs. He was damaged."

"It's a robot, right? What's it do?"

"It's mostly a sentry. I designed them to deal with civilians during times of crisis. Basically, if some sort of shit is going down theses guys can show up and tell people to evacuate, and protect them while they do so. The programming is simpler than I'd like. They can only differentiate between known enemies and civilians. So if one civilian attacks them or another civilian-"

"They don't know they're supposed to stop it?"

"Yea."

"That's still pretty amazing." He shrugged. "I don't know the first thing about this kind of stuff, but if it helps people that's really good." He rubbed the back of his head, a little embarrassed at just how little he really knew. Harry could use a lot of things most wizards couldn't, like toasters and simple cell phones. He even knew a little about driving even if he'd never done it, because when they'd all been stuck in a car together, Bruce had driven and Harry had asked questions. But the only computers he'd ever interacted with were the old and bulky ones at his primary school, and even then, what he had been able to do was limited to a few computer games, a paint program, and typing (which he had hardly been the quickest in his class at, and which he hadn't had to do in a long time). Robots (and everything else in Tony's lab) were way outside his realm of understanding. But his friend smiled at him.

"Thanks Tiny-Tim." The animagus rolled his eyes, because really he should have known Tony wouldn't be able to last longer than five minutes after seeing him without taking a dig at his height.

"Whatever. So what did you want to talk to me about, because I'm guessing it wasn't robots." Tony grinned.

"Who's to say I didn't just want to hang out with my friend and have a drink together?"

"Did you?"

"No. Well, yes, but we can do that later." He turned around and practically skipped across his lab to rifle through a drawer while Harry chuckled at him. He returned with a little rectangular device that was silver in color with a few small metal buttons. He handed it to Harry, who looked it over. It was heavier than he'd expected, and there were two sections of small little holes at the top and the bottom that suggested what it might be, although Harry had never seen one quite the same.

"A phone?"

"Basically. It's a little more complicated than a phone, but it worked the same." It didn't have a screen like all the shiny newer ones he'd seen people with that he knew Stark made. "It can't do anything else but work as a communication device, but that wasn't the point. This," He pointed sharply at it. "is meant to sort through dimensions. I haven't been able to test it properly, but the idea is that it's a phone we can use to get in touch with you or hammer-boy while you're in Asgard if we need you." Something in his tone caught Harry's attention.

"Do you expect to need us?" Tony watched him carefully.

"There's a reason Fury wasn't here to interrogate you the second you stepped foot in the tower." He said, and Harry's eyes narrowed. He had wondered about that, given the suspicious way he'd left. "About a month ago some shit went down. I wasn't there, but apparently Shield was infiltrated so deeply by Hydra that they had to shut it all down. Cap and Nat completely dismantled Shield. It's gone. Everyone is working for other organizations now, and I'm trying to track down all the Hydra stragglers that the government can't find."

"What is Hydra?"

"Bad news, that's what. You know about world war two? Nazis? Hitler?"

"I may be out of the loop on some things Tony, but I wasn't born under a rock."

"Yea, well, Hydra was on their side. World Domination, human experimentation, all sorts of nasty crap. Right now we don't know what kind of players they have, so we're trying to figure it out. We might need some extra help taking them all down. You game?" He considered it carefully. He had an awful lot on his plate right now, but...

He couldn't let his friends get into a fight without being there to watch their backs. Or, well, he could, but he didn't want to. It didn't sit right with him.

"Yea."

"Good. I've got another one of those I want you to give to Thor. Here, let me show you how to use it."

"Just one question. Is it waterproof?"

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Harry rubbed the pocket of his leather jacket where he'd put the two communicators as the elevator doors opened to deposit him in Tony's enormous penthouse where the others were waiting. He couldn't feel them there, not with the expansion runes that made the pockets on nearly everything he owned bigger on the inside, but it was the thought that they were there that mattered. Regardless of the reason Tony had given them to him, he was happy to have them. If the communicator worked, the billionaire had told him he would be able to use his to talk to Bruce regularly again (since, as Harry had discovered the one time he'd attempted it, his Bruce-phone did not work through different realms). He was excited about it. He'd missed his eldest brother, and he planned to spend most of the time he had left on Earth with him.

But he didn't have the chance to think about that just then, because as he entered Tony's living room it was to a sight that made him stop short, all the blood draining from his face.

Because there was Severus, staring with hard eyes at Tom.

The serpent was curled up on the table, his head up. He'd made use of the size-altering collar to make him larger than the size he usually was, comparable to Nagini (still much much smaller than he had the potential to be, of course). It left him at eye-level with the potion master, whose wand was out, but, to Harry's surprise, pointed downwards. Just as Harry entered he caught the tail end of fiery letters dissipating. It was a spell he recognized from when Voldemort's younger form had used it in the chamber of secrets, but he hadn't known Tom, as a snake, was capable of using magic at all any more. It was gone too quick for Harry to have seen what it said, but as he stood there, his enemy-turned-acquaintance swung his head around to look at him, and his father followed suit.

He had forgotten all about this. With everything else that had happened (his meeting with Lucius, talking to Moody, McGonagall's proposition, the Hallows), Tom's very existence, let alone Severus' lack of knowledge on the subject, hadn't even been the whisper of a thought on his mind.

His father's eyes were dark at first, glaring. His jaw was tense with the gritting of his teeth. They stared at each other, one angry, one frightened. Harry expected any moment for the man to yell or curse him or something... But then, the unexplainable happened. The potion master sighed, heavily. His glare vanished, his jaw relaxed, the frown and lowered brows eased. He looked irritated still, but-

"There are at least a dozen cauldrons in my employers shop that are in need of magicless cleaning, and another eight or so in my own potions lab. Tomorrow, instead of running about and having your fun with your brother, you will be accompanying me to work, and you will sit and scrub them until they shine. Is that clear?" His voice held all the authority that a strict professor (former, but that hardly mattered) could muster, but Harry was deeply relieved. Oh the man was angry (furious, even), yes, and he would undoubtedly have something to say at some point, but-

He didn't hate him. Nor was he nearly as angry as he could have been.

Harry nodded rapidly. He would need to find out what in the nine hells Tom had said to the man to calm his ire, because he must have said something. He could have kissed the serpent.

"Yes sir." He had to clear his throat a little, his voice coming out very rough and scratchy. Severus nodded once, sharply, and looked back at Tom. He glared at him a little, and then, to Harry's surprise-

"Legilimens." Tom didn't even flinch, and there was a long moment where they both stood there, eyes locked and silent. It was very strange, being outside of it for once, and he wondered what was happening. In the back of his mind, his connection with the snake buzzed and shook, but he didn't reach out for it. Instead he waited, and when Severus closed his eyes and turned away, looking more weary than upset, he wondered what Tom had shown him. "I'm going home." He said, heading for the door even though he had been planning to spend the day there with them. "Be ready to leave at six in the morning." He commented to Harry as he passed, and then he was around the corner to the elevator, gone from sight. The animagus blinked several times, and then turned back to look at Tom, and at Bruce and Moo, who sat on the couch beside each other and looked to be as much at a loss as he was.

The silence between them was long and awkward, and Tom broke it, not by speaking, but by making himself small again and sliding off the coffee table, slithering off away from them in a way that made it clear he had no intention of explaining just then. Harry could have ordered him to, but he didn't.

He wasn't sure he wanted to know.

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I HAVE NO CONTROL OVER MUHAMMAD. NONE WHATSOEVER.

I was writing and then just suddenly-

Well, you read it. You know. I admit I've been writing him with a certain thing in mind for a while, but I'm not gonna talk about it yet. It's a secret. You'll see.

Moving on, I know the question is gonna come up, so I'm going to address it here. Regarding the possibility of a Harry/Muhammad pairing later in the fic, I will admit, it IS a possibility. I just don't know yet. The Harry/Sif and Harry/Logan pairings are definitely a go, but almost nothing in this fic is planned. I have a very vague plot that gets built upon as we go, and very simple outlines for the pairings will come to be and what not.

But when it comes down to it, I write as I go. I put in what feels right, some of which I like, some of which I don't. So a pairing with Moo is something that could happen way way later on in the fic after the Logan one, or it might not. Maybe Logan/Harry will be the end pairing, maybe Harry/Noone will. Hell, maybe Blaise will bust in again and it'll be Harry/Blaise. Or someone comepletely random will show up, like Darcy or Luna or gods-know-who and he'll end up with them. I have no idea.

And frankly, I don't think it matters. This fic isn't romance/pairing-centric. It's not a love story, it's a weird adventure/sci fi/supernatural/slight humor story. I plan to keep it that way. So, we'll see, yea?

Of course, given that it IS a maybe, I would like to know everyone's opinions. I can't say that those opinions will impact what does or doesn't happen, but I do want to know them.

So, tell me what you think in your reviews, and I'll see you all next time.

Also, for those who get to enjoy it, have a nice memorial day off from work/school tomorrow.

Sincerely,

Mr. Hate