~ One Year Later...Again ~

Captain America: The First Avenger

June 14th, 1943 - Potter Estate - Earth - Multiverse – Sector 31.199999-A:

Harry Potter leaned over his workbench in the heart of his lab, surrounded by a chaotic array of tools, diagrams, and glowing components. The soft hum of the Power Core thrummed beneath the surface, a steady rhythm in the otherwise silent room. He adjusted the focus on a magnifying glass, examining the intricate lattice of runes etched onto a small, crystalline sphere. Despite the apparent calm, his mind churned with frustration. The prototype was nearly complete. Nanites capable of adapting to any battlefield situation, powered by a modified core from the Tesseract. Yet something felt off. The energy output was stable, but the transformation efficiency was inconsistent. He had considered using the Aether to stabilize the structure, but the thought of introducing another volatile component made him hesitate.

"Harry," Hermione's voice interrupted, her tone calm but firm. "Dr. Erskine has arrived at the estate,"

Harry sighed and rubbed his temples. "Again? Doesn't he ever take a hint?"

"He seems persistent," Hermione replied. "Shall I deny him access?"

Harry leaned back in his chair, staring at the mess of half-finished projects around him. He knew Erskine's intentions were well-meaning, but the man's determination was exhausting. "No. Let him in. I'll deal with him,"

He pushed away from the workbench and stood, stretching his stiff limbs before shrugging on his jacket. Tightening his tie with little care, he muttered under his breath, "This better not take long," The elevator ride to the surface was smooth and quiet, but Harry's irritation simmered beneath the surface. When the doors slid open, he found Dr. Erskine waiting in the reception area, nervously adjusting his glasses.

"Doctor," Harry greeted, his tone sharp. "To what do I owe the pleasure this time?"

Erskine smiled apologetically, rubbing his hands together nervously. "Harrison, I - well, we - were hoping you might reconsider your position regarding Project Rebirth,"

Harry's jaw tightened, and he folded his arms. "I've made myself clear, haven't I? The answer is no,"

Erskine stepped forward, his expression earnest. "I understand your hesitation. Truly, I do. But this isn't just about the war. The serum could-"

"Could what?" Harry interrupted. "Turn me into a glorified weapon? Make me the poster boy for Phillips' propaganda machine? No, thank you,"

Erskine faltered but pressed on. "It's more than that. The serum amplifies the individual. Mind, body, spirit. It enhances what is already there. And for someone like you...it could unlock what you've lost,"

The words struck a chord, though Harry masked it with a scoff. "And what exactly do you think I've lost?"

"Your memories," Erskine said simply. "Your past. Isn't that what you've been searching for?" Harry froze, his defenses momentarily slipping. It wasn't a secret he had shared openly, yet somehow Erskine had pieced it together. The doctor's gaze was steady, unyielding, and Harry hated how it made him feel exposed.

"Even if that's true," Harry said finally, his voice low, "it doesn't mean I trust you...or your serum,"

Before Erskine could respond, the Visitor Alert System chimed again. Hermione's voice filled the room. "Harry, you have additional visitors. Colonel Phillips and Agent Carter have arrived,"

Harry muttered a curse under his breath, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Perfect. Just what I needed,"

Erskine looked sheepish. "They insisted on accompanying me. I didn't-"

"Save it," Harry cut him off, already heading for the entrance.

When he stepped outside, he found Colonel Chester Phillips leaning against a jeep, his signature smug grin firmly in place. Beside him stood Agent Peggy Carter, her posture impeccable, her expression neutral but curious. Harry's irritation faltered for a moment as his gaze flickered to her. She was an attractive woman with slightly curled brown hair that fell to her shoulders, smooth skin, and peircing brown eyes. Eyes so sharp, intelligent, and defiant that it caught him off guard.

"Potter," Phillips greeted, tipping his hat. "I thought I'd drop by and see if we couldn't have a civilized conversation,"

Harry crossed his arms, his gaze hardening. "Civilized? That's rich coming from the man who's tried to draft me into his pet project at every turn,"

Phillips chuckled, unbothered by the jab. "You're a tough nut to crack, I'll give you that. But we're not leaving until we've had our say,"

Harry's eyes shifted to Peggy, who met his gaze with an even, measured look. There was no condescension in her expression, no smugness. Just quiet observation. He wondered briefly what she thought of all this but quickly pushed the thought aside. "Fine," Harry said, his tone clipped. "Say what you've come to say and get out of my way,"

Phillips straightened, his grin widening. "Project Rebirth needs someone like you. Strong, smart, capable. You'd be an asset to the program and to the war effort,"

Harry laughed bitterly. "And what happens after? I become your weapon, your soldier to point wherever you like? No thanks,"

Peggy spoke then, her voice calm but firm. "You're wrong about one thing. This isn't about making you a weapon. It's about giving people hope. The serum isn't just about strength. It's about resilience, integrity, and the will to stand for what's right," Her words caught Harry off guard, and for a moment, he had no reply. There was conviction in her tone that reminded him of the people he had once fought beside before. People who had believed in him, even when he didn't believe in himself.

Phillips, sensing the shift, pressed his advantage. "Look, Potter, you've done a lot of good from your little fortress here, but the world needs more. We need you out there,"

Harry's temper flared, the wind around them picking up as his magic stirred. "I've done more for this war than you'll ever know, Phillips. Don't stand there and tell me I haven't given enough,"

Peggy stepped forward, placing a steadying hand on Phillips' arm. "Colonel, perhaps we should let Dr. Erskine speak with him privately,"

Phillips frowned but relented, stepping back toward the jeep. Peggy lingered, her gaze meeting Harry's once more. There was something unspoken in her expression. Something that made Harry's irritation ebb, if only slightly. "I'll think about it," Harry said finally, his voice quieter.

Peggy nodded, a hint of a smile tugging at her lips. "That's all we ask,"

As she turned to leave, Harry found himself watching her for a moment longer than necessary. Shaking his head, he muttered to himself, "What am I getting myself into?" He would consider the serum...but only on his terms.

Harry returned to his lab, his thoughts in disarray. The conversation had left him unsettled, and Peggy Carter's words echoed in his mind. Hope? Resilience? He scoffed to himself as he approached his workbench. Those ideals felt distant, almost alien after everything he'd endured. Still, there was something about the way she had spoken. Not as a recruiter, not as a manipulator, but as someone who genuinely believed in the potential of the serum. That gnawed at him.

He picked up the crystalline sphere he had been working on earlier, its faint glow now seeming dim in the sterile light of the lab. Setting it down with a sigh, he turned toward the holographic console on the far wall. "Hermione," he said, his voice weary. "Update me on what you've found regarding Erskine's serum,"

The AI's voice was quick to respond. "Dr. Erskine's notes indicate the serum operates on a principle of amplifying the subject's innate qualities. Physical attributes such as strength, speed, and durability are enhanced to superhuman levels, while mental faculties, including memory and cognitive processing, are also improved. However, the amplification process is not without risk. Early prototypes resulted in instability...both physical and psychological,"

Harry leaned against the console, rubbing the back of his neck. "And the memory aspect?"

"There is evidence to suggest that the serum enhances neural pathways, allowing for more efficient information retrieval and retention. This could, theoretically, extend to repressed or fragmented memories," That gave Harry pause. If the serum could help him recover his memories, it could be the key to understanding the other Harry's past and why he had been thrust into this fractured universe in the first place. But the risks loomed large. The idea of tampering with his already tangled existence was unsettling.

"Keep digging," he said finally, turning away from the console. "I need more information before I make a decision,"

June 15th, 1943 - Stark Expo - Earth - Multiverse – Sector 31.199999-A:

The following evening, Harry found himself pacing the upper level of the Stark Expo. The event was in full swing, with bright lights and grand displays illuminating the sprawling venue. He had initially planned to skip it, but something about the prospect of seeing Howard Stark - a friend whose genius rivaled even his own - had convinced him to attend. Dressed in a sharp suit, Harry moved through the crowd, keeping to the edges where the shadows were thickest. He wasn't in the mood for small talk or curious stares. Instead, he observed, letting the buzz of the crowd wash over him.

"Enjoying yourself?"

The voice startled him, and he turned to find Peggy Carter standing a few feet away, a faint smile on her lips. She was dressed in a sleek dark grey evening gown, her military demeanor softened but still present in her posture. Her figure was defined nicely in the dress, though Harry didn't dare allow his gaze to be caught below her neck. He was a gentlemen after all. "Agent Carter," he said, inclining his head. "I didn't expect to see you here,"

"I could say the same for you," she replied, stepping closer. "Though I suppose it's not every day one gets to attend an event like this,"

Harry shrugged. "I'm here for the science. Stark's a friend,"

Peggy tilted her head, studying him with a curiosity that made him feel exposed. "You're not like the others, are you? Most men in your position would revel in the attention, yet you seem determined to avoid it,"

"Attention isn't exactly my forte," he admitted, a wry smile tugging at his lips. "I prefer to keep my head down and get things done,"

"And yet," she said, her tone light but pointed, "you've managed to make quite a name for yourself. Potter Incorporated, advanced medicine, groundbreaking technology. People notice,"

Harry looked away, uncomfortable with the praise. "I didn't come here to be noticed. I came to make a difference,"

"Then why not consider the serum?" she asked gently. "You've already done so much. Imagine what you could do with enhanced abilities,"

He met her gaze, the weight of her words sinking in. "Because power comes with strings," he said quietly. "And I've spent too much of my life being pulled in directions I didn't choose,"

Peggy nodded, her expression thoughtful. "Fair enough. But not all strings are bad. Sometimes, they connect us to something greater than ourselves,"

Her words lingered in the air as she excused herself, leaving Harry alone with his thoughts. He watched her disappear into the crowd, a sense of unease settling in his chest.

Sometimes, they connect us to something greater than ourselves.

He wasn't sure he believed that, but the idea intrigued him. For the first time in a long while, he found himself wondering if there was still something - or someone - worth fighting for beyond the confines of his own goals.

Back in his lab that night, Harry stood before the crystalline sphere on his workbench, the glow from the Infinity Stones in his possession below casting faint reflections on its surface. The serum still loomed large in his mind, its implications vast and unsettling. He knew he couldn't put off the decision much longer. But for now, he poured his energy into the project before him, letting the rhythm of creation drown out the doubts and questions that haunted him. Somewhere, in the back of his mind, Peggy Carter's voice whispered again.

Sometimes, they connect us to something greater than ourselves.

And for the first time, Harry wondered if she might be right.

The following week unfolded in a blur of cautious deliberation and subtle developments. Harry found himself oscillating between his lab's quiet sanctity and the chaos of the outside world, which intruded more than he would have liked. The war was intensifying, and the Strategic Scientific Reserve had become bolder in their attempts to recruit him. Yet it wasn't the relentless persistence of Colonel Phillips or Dr. Erskine's earnest pitches that weighed on him most. It was Peggy Carter.

Their interactions became a game of measured exchanges, each of them offering just enough to intrigue the other without tipping their hand entirely. She had a way of making her presence felt without demanding attention, her quick wit and steady gaze lingering in his thoughts longer than he cared to admit. It was kind of unsettling.

June 21st, 1943 - Potter Estate - Earth - Multiverse – Sector 31.199999-A:

It was late one evening when she appeared at his estate unannounced, her figure illuminated by the faint glow of the wards as she approached the entrance. Harry watched her through the security feed for a moment before sighing and pressing the button to allow her through. When the elevator delivered her to his private floor, he met her with a raised brow. "Agent Carter," he said, leaning against the doorframe. "To what do I owe this unexpected pleasure?"

Peggy stepped inside, her posture poised but her expression softer than usual. "You've been avoiding the SSR," she said, skipping any pleasantries. "But you haven't avoided me. Why is that?"

Harry smirked, pushing off the frame and turning back toward his study. "Maybe I find you less insufferable than the others,"

She followed him, unperturbed by his evasive response. "Or maybe you're curious,"

"Curiosity's a dangerous thing," he quipped, taking a seat at his desk and gesturing for her to do the same. "What's this about, Peggy?"

She hesitated for a moment before speaking. "You've been on the fence about the serum. I came to understand why,"

Harry studied her, his green eyes sharp but not unkind. "I've already explained my reasons. Strings, risks, unintended consequences. Do you need me to go through it all again?"

"No," she said firmly. "I need you to tell me what you're really afraid of,"

That caught him off guard. He leaned back in his chair, running a hand through his hair as he considered her question. "What makes you think I'm afraid?"

"Because you're too smart not to see the potential of the serum," she replied. "And because every time someone mentions it, you shut down. People don't do that unless they're afraid of something,"

Harry's jaw tightened. For a moment, the only sound was the faint hum of the ward monitors. Then he spoke, his voice quieter than usual. "What if it changes me?" he asked. "What if it takes everything I've worked for, everything I am, and twists it into something unrecognizable?"

Peggy tilted her head, her expression thoughtful. "The serum amplifies what's already there. If you're worried about losing yourself, maybe you should focus on what's worth holding on to,"

Her words struck a chord, but Harry masked it with a wry smile. "And what, exactly, do you think I should be holding on to?"

She didn't answer right away, her gaze steady as she studied him. "You tell me," she said finally. "You've built something extraordinary here. You've helped people. Saved lives. If that's not worth holding on to, I don't know what is," The room fell silent again, her words hanging between them like an unspoken challenge. Harry wanted to argue, to dismiss her optimism as naive...but he couldn't. Instead, he nodded, a reluctant acknowledgment that her perspective might have some merit.

"I'll think about it," he said at last, his voice low but sincere.

Peggy stood, her expression softening. "That's all I ask,"

As she turned to leave, Harry found himself speaking before he could stop himself. "Peggy," She paused, glancing back at him. "Why do you care so much?" he asked, his tone less guarded than usual.

She smiled faintly, her eyes warm but enigmatic. "Because I believe in people like you, Harry. Even when you don't believe in yourself," And with that, she was gone, leaving him alone with his thoughts and a flicker of something he hadn't felt in a long time. Hope. Turning back to his computer, Harry was met with an analysis of Erskine's serum brought up by Hermione. It revealed more details about the formula's effects and potential risks, but it was something else entirely that caught his attention. A note from Peggy, slipped under his office door while she left. It was brief, written in neat, precise handwriting:

Sometimes, the only way forward is to take the first step. I trust you'll find your way, whatever you choose. - P.

Harry read the note twice before folding it carefully and placing it in his pocket. For the first time since arriving in this fractured universe, he felt like the pieces of his life - scattered and incomplete as they were - were finally starting to come together. With a deep breath, he turned back to his work, the faintest trace of a smile on his lips. There was still so much to do, but for the first time in years, he didn't feel entirely alone.

June 22nd, 1943 - Strategic Scientific Reserve Offices - Earth - Multiverse – Sector 31.199999-A:

The next day, as Peggy Carter sat in the makeshift Strategic Scientific Reserve office, her sharp eyes scanned over field reports and dossiers. The usual hum of activity filled the space, with Colonel Phillips barking orders and Dr. Erskine quietly scribbling notes at his desk. It was a relatively ordinary morning until a courier entered, carrying a letter with Harry Potter's name emblazoned in precise lettering on the envelope. Peggy raised a curious eyebrow as the courier handed it to her. The envelope was sleek, and its weight hinted at something more deliberate than a mere note. Phillips, ever watchful, noticed the exchange and strode over with his usual brusque confidence.

"Potter finally decided to respond?" he asked, his voice laced with skepticism.

Peggy carefully broke the seal, her curiosity growing. "It seems so," she said, sliding the letter out and unfolding the crisp parchment.

Dr. Erskine, hearing the exchange, abandoned his work and stepped closer, adjusting his glasses. "Please, do read it aloud," he urged, his tone eager yet cautious.

Peggy glanced at the two men, hesitating for a moment before beginning.

To Agent Carter, Dr. Erskine, and Colonel Phillips,

I imagine this letter comes as a surprise, though I suspect Agent Carter may have had an inkling that I'd eventually come around. In truth, the decision to write this was not an easy one. It is a rare thing for someone like me to trust others, let alone allow myself to become part of something so much bigger than my own goals.

Agent Carter, your insight over the past week has lingered in my mind more than I care to admit. Your words about hope, resilience, and the idea of connecting to something greater than ourselves have been difficult to shake. You possess a quality I thought lost in this world. A belief in the inherent good of people. It's refreshing, and in some ways, infuriating. But it's also inspired me to consider what I've been running from and why.

Dr. Erskine, your conviction in Project Rebirth has been unwavering, even in the face of my stubborn resistance. Your belief that the serum amplifies the individual - mind, body, and spirit - is a notion I dismissed out of fear. I am beginning to realize, however, that fear is not a reason to say no. If there's even a chance that this serum can help me unlock the memories of my past, then it's a chance I'm willing to take. Not for Phillips, not for propaganda, and certainly not to be turned into a weapon. But for myself.

Colonel Phillips, you and I may never see eye to eye, but I understand the necessity of the work you do. If I'm going to join this war in a way that serves more than my own interests, then I will do so on my terms. You may have tried to strong-arm me into this program, but it is the words of your agent and your scientist that have persuaded me. I will agree to join Project Rebirth as its first super soldier.

However, I have conditions. My involvement will not be a blank check for the military to cash as they see fit. I will oversee my own training and ensure that my expertise is respected, not disregarded. Furthermore, I will retain the right to walk away if I find my trust misplaced. I don't know what the future holds, but I know I can no longer remain on the sidelines while the world tears itself apart. Consider this my first step.

Sincerely,
Harry Potter

The room was silent for a long moment after Peggy finished reading. She folded the letter carefully and looked up at the two men. Dr. Erskine had a small, hopeful smile on his face, his eyes shining with excitement. Phillips, on the other hand, looked like he was chewing on something bitter. "Well, I'll be damned," the colonel muttered. "The kid's got more backbone than I gave him credit for. Still a pain in the ass, though,"

Peggy smiled faintly, her fingers brushing over the letter. "He's not a 'kid,' Colonel. He's a man who's made a difficult decision,"

Erskine clasped his hands together, his voice brimming with optimism. "This is excellent news! We must prepare at once. The serum, the facilities, everything must be ready,"

Phillips grunted, crossing his arms. "Fine. But I'll be keeping a close eye on him. I still don't trust him not to go rogue,"

Peggy's gaze lingered on the letter, her thoughts spinning. Despite the colonel's cynicism, she felt a flicker of pride - and something more - that Harry had chosen to take this step. She folded the letter and tucked it into her jacket pocket, a faint smile tugging at her lips. "He's taking the first step," she said softly. "The rest is up to us,"

~ Omake - A Breakfast Debate ~

In the early hours of the morning, long before Harry Potter's usual waking routine, Hermione - the AI system that managed his sprawling estate - began her daily tasks. The house was eerily quiet except for the hum of the energy core and the occasional creak of the structure settling. It wasn't until Hermione activated the automated breakfast system that the day took a curious turn. A soft chime echoed through the kitchen as the system started preparing Harry's breakfast. Pancakes sizzled on the enchanted griddle, eggs scrambled themselves in a floating pan, and a pot of coffee brewed to perfection. But just as the food was about to plate itself, Hermione's avatar appeared on a nearby holographic screen, her expression unusually irked.

"What in Merlin's name is he thinking?" Hermione muttered to herself, pulling up a series of reports and schematics onto the screen. "Joining Project Rebirth. Taking that serum. Has he forgotten the last time he mixed his magic with someone else's half-baked science?"

The automated coffee machine let out a cheerful ding, but Hermione ignored it, continuing her rant. "He's going to end up blowing himself up. Or worse, he'll somehow turn into a glowing beacon of energy and attract every megalomaniac in the multiverse," The griddle hissed loudly, almost as if in protest.

"Don't look at me like that," Hermione snapped at the griddle. "You don't have to keep track of his vitals or clean up the mess if he spontaneously combusts," The griddle sizzled indignantly, flipping a pancake onto the plate with more force than necessary.

Hermione sighed, her holographic form slumping slightly. "Maybe I'm overreacting," she admitted. "But it's not just about the serum, is it? He's letting his emotions cloud his judgment. First it's the serum, then it's this...this connection with Agent Carter. I've seen the way he looks at her. Do you know what happens when Harry Potter starts letting himself care about people again?" The automated toaster chimed in, ejecting two perfectly golden slices of bread.

"Exactly!" Hermione exclaimed, pointing at the toaster as if it had made a profound statement. "Disaster. Absolute disaster,"

The breakfast system, seemingly fed up with her pessimism, began assembling the meal onto a tray with more force than finesse. The eggs nearly missed the plate, and the coffee sloshed dangerously close to the edge of the mug.

"Oh, fine," Hermione huffed, waving a hand at the tray. "Deliver it. But don't come crying to me when he decides to invent some sort of magical serum enhancer and ends up turning into a super-soldier-slash-wizard hybrid with a superiority complex," The breakfast tray floated off toward Harry's private quarters, leaving Hermione alone with her holographic screens. For a moment, she stared at the data on the serum, her earlier irritation giving way to a faint sense of concern.

"Maybe I should run some simulations," she muttered to herself. "Just in case," And with that, the AI returned to her work, quietly preparing for whatever chaos her creator might unleash next. After all, with Harry Potter, it was never a question of if things would get complicated. Only when.