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Chapter Text

Number 1

The one with the bow was grinning in a way that meant he hadn’t seen something as entertaining as this in a long time. The pretty, red-haired one looked like she wanted to grin in a similar way but had more control to keep her features schooled in something approximating mild curiosity.

“So you’re my dad,” Harry said to the large, blond one. The one with the hammer. Supposedly a god, even.

“Yes, I have conceived you myself!” His ‘father’ said with a huge, beaming smile.

“With your brother,” Harry said very slowly, very carefully. “Who is apparently my mother.” Harry gave the tall dark-haired one a good, long look. Yes, there were similarities between their features, even Harry could see that. Hair, eye-colour, the shape of their nose and mouth.

The big, beefy one with the shield lowered his head into his hands and released a deep sigh that conveyed a generous amount of wariness and disbelief. Beside him on the couch the brown-haired one with the glasses calmly sipped a steaming mug of tea. Harry could do with some tea right about now.

How was he ever going to explain this to Ron and Hermione, to Sirius and Dumbledore? If it even was true, since Harry still had his doubts. As far as he was concerned, James and Lily were his parents, end of story.

“Ah, yes,” his ‘father’ said after a few awkward moments of complete silence. “Loki played a prank, disguising himself as a woman, and afterwards, after you were born, our father was not amused and had you taken away. We did not know where you were taken, but we have looked for you.”

Harry released a snort. “So Loki put on a dress and somehow he got pregnant? Is that what happened?”

The cocky one with the goatee, the one who had all but kidnapped Harry from the Dursleys just as he had returned home from a disastrous fourth year at Hogwarts, stepped up to Harry and clapped him on the shoulder. “Chin up, kid. The last time Loki popped out a sprog he was a horse. Imagine, you could have ended up with eight legs and spent the rest of your life carrying your asshole grandfather into battle instead of what you got now.”

Yeah, Harry had nothing coherent to say to that.

Chapter Text

Number 2

Harry asked for a phone while he retreated to one of the hotel room’s private bedrooms. Tony Stark threw a thin, black thing at him and when Harry caught it and stared at it in confusion, Steve Rogers scolded Stark and took the time to show Harry how to work the mobile phone, since that was apparently what it was.

Grateful that he’d taken the time to memorize Hermione’s phone number years ago, Harry called her, needing someone familiar to talk to about everything that had happened.

His whole life had been turned upside down in the span of just a few hours and Harry didn’t think there was room in his head to make sense of it all.

Hermione answered herself and Harry was glad he didn’t have to talk to one of her parents because he wasn’t sure his voice wouldn’t crack the second he used it.

“Hermione,” Harry breathed, and yep, his voice was doing strange things as he attempted to get a few more words out.

“Harry?” Hermione asked, obviously shocked Harry would call her since she knew the Dursleys would never let him use their phone. “What’s wrong?”

Harry swallowed, and then he swallowed again. “So my parents apparently aren’t my parents, and now I have new ones, alive ones, and they’re taking me to America for the summer at least.”

“What?” Hermione asked and then fell utterly silent as she processed what Harry had just said. “Okay, one thing at a time. What new parents?”

“Yeah, so my new parents had me as a prank but then my maybe evil grandfather took me away and my parents couldn’t find me until now.” Harry was deeply, sincerely proud of himself that he’d managed to get all of that out in one go without breaking down in some way.

“Where are you?” Hermione demanded.

“Er…some hotel in London. We’ll be leaving in a few hours.”

“What’s the name of the hotel? Look around, it’s probably printed on something.”

Harry walked around the room and saw custom water bottles on the dresser opposite the huge bed. “It says The Rosewood London. It’s a very big suite with multiple bedrooms.”

“Okay, thank you. Harry, stay put, I’m getting in touch with whoever I can get in touch with.”

Harry inhaled a deep breath. He was just so confused. “Yeah, that’s probably for the best. I really don’t know what the hell is going on.”

Just as Harry ended the call, he heard something behind him.

“So we’re expecting visitors,” the red-haired one said as she leaned casually against the doorpost, of the door Harry knew for certain he’d closed behind himself. The door was still closed. How the heck had she entered and he hadn’t heard it.

“My friend’s coming over,” Harry said with a tight shrug, unsure if Hermione herself was coming or someone like Dumbledore or Sirius. Harry doubted it, though. How was Hermione getting in touch with anyone in the wizarding world while she was staying with her muggle parents? She didn’t have an owl, and even if she did, delivering a letter could take hours and by that time Harry would be well on his way to the other side of the world.

“I’ll let the others know company’s on the way.” And with that she disappeared quietly and Harry sat down on the edge of the biggest bed he’d ever seen and waited while staring down at his shoes, mind going a mile a minute.

It was perhaps an hour later when furious knocking sounded on the door of the enormous suite. Harry finally got up and left the bedroom to join the others. Before long he found himself with an armful of Hermione, bushy hair tickling his face.

“You’re all right!” Hermione said loudly, immediately followed by furious whispering in his ear, “These are muggles, Harry. Remember the Statute of Secrecy! And I couldn’t contact anyone else, so I begged my parents to take me.”

“Dr and Dr Granger,” Hermione’s mother introduced herself and her husband as she shook hands with Steve and Bruce. “Hermione’s best friends with Harry, she insisted on coming to say goodbye.”

“Sure, the more the merrier,” the one with the goatee said.

“Goodness, you’re Tony Stark,” Hermione’s mum breathed, eyes wide.

“I get that a lot,” Tony Stark said with a charming grin while he leaned his hip against the edge of the couch. “And these here are Harry’s new parents, which is why we’re all here.” Tony gestured at Harry’s new ‘mother’ and ‘father’.

Harry’s ‘mother’ looked around the room with glowing green eyes and seemed intent to murder everyone, except for Harry, in their sleep. Harry’s ‘father’ released a burst of booming laughter. “Be welcome, friends of our son!”

“Harry,” Hermione breathed after she released Harry and looked around the room with wide eyes. “These are the Avengers.”

“They’re the what?” Harry asked, which earned him an incredulous look from Hermione, not to mention from Tony Stark himself. “I don’t keep up with the news,” Harry said lamely, in his own very weak defence since he couldn’t very well tell these mostly muggles that he was stuck in a magical boarding school for most of the year and they received no muggle news there.

“So you missed the aliens invasion as well?” the one with the bow asked.

Harry snorted, thinking they were having him on, until he saw the look on Hermione’s face. “What alien invasion?”

“Wow,” Tony Stark said while he looked Harry up and down. “It seems your kid is even more ignorant about everything than you are, Thor, and that’s saying something.”

Chapter Text

Number 3

During their trip to America in one of the airplanes that wasn’t an airplane (Quinjet! Tony Stark had said at least a dozen times) Harry sat on a hard bench and stared straight ahead, still unable to fully comprehend what exactly was happening.

There was a small noise beside him as his ‘mother’ sat down, leather pants and jacket creaking. Loki remained quiet for a few moments until he cleared his throat. “We looked,” Loki whispered, gaze on the pale hands in his lap. “I need you to understand that because I can well imagine your anger at the idea we abandoned you while in truth, we did no such thing.”

Harry licked his lips and glanced to the side. He had felt random bouts of anger at the idea of having parents, real parents, out there while he’d been stuck with the Dursleys. “All right,” Harry said, sounding rather unconvinced even to his own ears.

Loki turned to him at once. “You do not believe me.”

Sighing, Harry leaned back against the metal wall behind him. “No, I do believe you’ve looked and stuff. I just don’t get how you didn’t find me. You’re supposed to be really powerful.”

Loki sniffed in reply, lips slowly morphing into a grin. “I am really powerful, but unfortunately, so is Odin. And we had not expected him to essentially turn you into a human, albeit temporarily. We were looking for an Aesir child in all the nine realms, not a human child on Midgard.”

“Ah.” Harry looked down, plucking at his t-shirt with nervous fingers. “So am I human or not?”

“In essence, not. But you appear human in many ways until the spell Odin put on you breaks.”

“And when does it break? Because right now I’m a limp noodle compared to you two,” Harry said, trying not to sound too bitter, but it was hard. One look at his ‘father’ and his physique, or his ‘mother’ and the magic that just about poured off him, and Harry got the distinct impression that he’d received the very shortest end of the genetic stick.

Loki chuckled, apparently guessing where Harry’s thoughts were going, or perhaps the bloke could straight up read minds, who even knew? “It should break once you are declared an adult in this realm.”

“So, seventeen,” Harry said with a nod. “And then I’ll get superpowers or something.”

“Or something,” Loki agreed, and a few moments of silence stretched between them but it wasn’t uncomfortable, not anymore.

Loki craned his neck and pointed towards one of the side windows that showed the ocean beneath them as they started lowering altitude. “That is where your brother lives.”

Harry turned to stare at Loki in astonishment. “A brother? I have a brother?”

“You have three siblings,” Loki said with a warm smile, the kindest he’d yet looked. “Fenrir, Hela, and Jormungandr.”

“I have siblings,” Harry whispered, more to himself than to Loki. This was a revelation. Harry had always known he had parents, albeit dead ones, so the idea of now having living parents all of a sudden wasn’t that much of a stretch. But siblings…that was something entirely foreign yet incredibly exciting. Harry looked up and out the window. “Wait, where did my brother live?”

“Jormungandr lives in the oceans of this planet,” Loki explained patiently. “He is known as the Midgard serpent.”

“He’s a serpent?” Harry asked, shocked, but that only lasted a moment, because honestly, after all the revelations he’d had recently this wasn’t even the weirdest thing that he’d heard.

His brother, at least one of them, was a big ass snake. Good thing Harry was a parselmouth then.

Chapter Text

Number 4

Harry shuffled into the dark communal kitchen in the Avengers Tower where he was now staying. He hadn’t been able to sleep, doubts about how to broach the subject of his being a wizard to the people around him keeping him awake. Harry hoped a hot cup of tea and perhaps a sandwich might prove enough distractions for his buzzing mind to finally allow him some rest.

A hand shot out of the shadows, strong fingers curling around his neck. “Who are you?” a hoarse voice whispered against Harry’s ear as he was pushed against the refrigerator without pause.

Harry wanted to answer, he really did, but his airway was being cut off. He also wanted to reach for his wand, until he realized he’d left it in his bedroom since he was wearing pyjamas without pockets and hadn’t bothered to take it with him, to his very real regret.

“Bucky? Where did you go?”

Right before the lights in the kitchen turned on, the hand released Harry’s throat and Harry found himself gasping for breath.

Before him stood a tall, muscled, long-haired man with a thousand-yard-stare a dozen times worse than Sirius’ had been when Harry had first met him in the Shrieking Shack in his third year.

“There you are,” Steve said, looking at the metal-armed man like a happy golden retriever might look upon the meanest, scariest street cat with murder-claws he had been tasked to look after and had accidentally mistaken for a cute, fluffy kitten. “And you’ve met Harry, Thor and Loki’s son!”

Bucky bowed his head with a guilty glance to the side while Harry coughed and coughed to get his throat working properly again. Behind him, Harry heard the refrigerator open and close and a cool can of soda was pressed against his chest by a metal hand.

Steve beamed as if it was Christmas morning and he’d just received the one gift he’d always wanted but hadn’t received for decades.

Harry opened the can with trembling fingers and took a big gulp. The cold liquid helped to soothe his throat. “Thanks,” he managed to whisper.

“Couldn’t sleep?” Steve guessed, and only now did Harry notice that both he and Bucky were dressed in striped pyjama bottoms with white t-shirts. They matched. At Harry’s nod, Steve added, “Us neither. We were looking for some snacks.”

As if on cue, Bucky pressed a box of Oreos into Harry’s arms with a look that was full of silent apologies. Harry accepted them with a quiet, solemn nod, finally understanding that Bucky hadn’t meant to assault him but somehow couldn’t help himself. Harry had quickly learned that most people living in Avengers Tower had weird, disturbing histories.

“Bucky’s doing a lot better,” Steve explained while pulling the fridge open to rummage through the leftovers. “Hydra had him for seventy years, but he still beat them in the end, right, pal?”

Bucky ducked his head, face hidden by a curtain of brown hair, and Harry felt a huge wave of sympathy for him. He wasn’t sure what Hydra was, but he realized that Bucky had overcome some incredible odds in an obviously very shitty life.

Harry opened the box of Oreos, ripped open a sleeve and pulled out a cookie. He held it up to Bucky, hopeful that Bucky would understand Harry accepted his weird apology. Bucky’s head snapped up and he stared at Harry with wide eyes for a few moments before accepting the cookie as if Harry was offering him a live hand grenade.

“Bucky,” Steve said with a strangled sound, wiping a hand across his eyes. “You’ve made a friend!”

Chapter Text

Number 5

Dinner at Avengers Tower was always a loud, raucous affair. Not everyone joined the others at the dining table every day. People went on missions, and dates with friends or lovers, and from time to time everyone needed a quiet dinner in their own rooms to relax. But everyday there were at least some Avengers and support staff to come together for the evening meal and Harry usually sat down with them to eat.

That evening, Harry was seated between his mother, who took helicopter parenting to a whole other, potentially lethal level, and Bucky, who had apparently decided that Harry was the only other person in the tower besides Steve that he actually liked.

Harry’s father was seated across from them, regaling a bemused Steve with an animated account of one battle or another.

“How are you settling in, Harry?” Bruce asked from the head of the table. He always got to sit there, claiming that having to bump elbows with others stressed him out too much.

“All right,” Harry said with a casual shrug. He actually wasn’t quite sure how he was doing these days. So much had happened, so much had changed, that it was difficult to comprehend it all. Mostly, Harry just went with it and let everything happen around him.

Bruce nodded with a sympathetic smile. “It must be difficult, not just suddenly having parents, but suddenly being royalty as well.”

Harry’s eyes widened and he froze in place. Holy fuck. He had not considered that, not even in the slightest.

“Yes,” his father said in a voice full of pride. “Haraldr is my firstborn child. I am the heir to the throne of Asgard, and Haraldr is my heir.”

Harry still couldn’t move and he felt his mother’s hand gently squeeze his thigh under the table.

“Thor,” Loki said while giving Thor an exasperated look full of centuries worth of frustration at Thor’s inability to be subtle. “Perhaps we should discuss this with Haraldr in private before announcing it to the world.” Both his parents had taken to calling Harry by the name Loki had apparently given him right after birth. After a brief period of adjustment, Harry didn’t mind it, even kind of liked it. Everyone else still called him Harry, though, as he preferred it. He was happy to let Haraldr be the name only his parents used for him.

Thor looked at Loki in sheer confusion.

Leaning forward and offering Thor his most intense stare, Loki said through gritted teeth. “Haraldr might not even wish to rule, brother. He was not raised like you and I.”

Thor waved a dismissive hand around. “Of course he will rule. He is our child, Loki. One day he will make a fine king.”

Harry could barely breathe. Now he wasn’t just the Boy Who Lived and saviour of the wizarding world, no, now he was also suddenly the future king of an alien world somewhere in deep space. How was he ever supposed to deal with that?

Beside him, Bucky picked up a warm bread roll and silently handed it to Harry.

Chapter Text

Number 6

“Hmm,” Loki said as he stared at Harry’s forehead.

Harry sat squashed between his father and mother on the couch during unofficial movie night. There was also an official movie night, apparently, at least according to the schedule Tony had put together but it seemed that only Tony, and maybe Bruce, understood how that schedule even worked so most people paid it little attention.

“What?” Harry asked as he turned to look up at his mother. Why were both his parents so ridiculously tall and Harry such a short little shrimp? Harry was waiting very impatiently for a growth spurt.

“Your scar,” Loki said, leaning a little closer and raising a hand. “It’s magical but it feels foul.”

“Er..” Harry managed to say before Loki pressed his finger against the scar and Harry saw stars. Very bright, very painful stars.

“Brother,” Loki said at once, leaning over Harry and smacking Thor in the chest. And yeah, that wasn’t weird at all, how his parents insisted on addressing each other as ‘brother’ all the time. “Feel Haraldr’s scar.”

Thor blinked first at Loki and then at Harry and raised a hand to stroke his fingers across Harry’s scar. Harry pulled back, not wanting a repeat of his sudden view of the universe, but Thor’s touch wasn’t painful at all.

“That is odd,” Thor said while sharing a concerned look with Loki. “It feels as though the scar is alive.”

“Indeed.” Loki looked very much like he wanted to touch the scar again and Harry shrank away from him. “We shall remove it first thing in the morning.”

“You can remove it?” Harry asked, interest piqued. His scar had been bothering him all throughout his fourth year, and now, since Voldemort’s resurrection, it was burning steadily. The added distance from his move to the United States had lessened it somewhat but not eliminated it entirely.

“Of course,” Loki said with a look that clearly communicated he thought Harry had just asked a very silly question.

And that is how Harry found himself lying on a stone slab deep in the basement of Avengers Tower. Loki had spent half the night inscribing it with runes. The slab felt ice-cold when Harry stretched out on it.

“Thor, Steven, I need you to hold him down.” Loki waited until both men were in place at either side of Harry while Loki stood near Harry’s head. “Haraldr, I am truly sorry, but this will hurt quite a bit. Be brave, my son. I will be as quick as I can.”

Harry inhaled a deep breath and what followed was minutes of screaming and thrashing as strong hands pushed him down while tendrils of fire seemed to pull Harry’s very essence out through his scar.

“What the fuck is that?” Tony asked somewhere in the distance.

“An abomination of magic and life itself,” Loki said, voice echoing in Harry’s ears, close by, yet far away. “It is gone. You did well, Haraldr.”

Harry floated through the air, exhausted, head pounding.

“I’ve got him, brother,” Thor said, carrying Harry all the way to his room and placing him in bed. “Worry not, Soldier of Winter. Haraldr is strong. He will recover.”

Harry slept and when he woke up hours later, his head was still sore but his mind felt as though it was suddenly a hundred pounds lighter. Loki brought him soup and bread to eat while Thor sat down on the edge of Harry’s bed and proclaimed him a mighty warrior for fighting the abomination while Loki extracted it. Harry let his father believe that. All he remembered was overwhelming pain. Still, he was thankful the scar and whatever freaky Voldemort thing was inside of it was gone. Also, getting to spend the day in bed and being taken care of by his parents was also a nice experience, even though Harry would never admit such a thing to anyone.

And later, when his bedroom was dark and his parents had gone to bed, Bucky snuck in, looked him over top to bottom, handed him a mug of hot cocoa and left again as quietly as he’d entered.

Chapter Text

Number 7

Everyone had gathered in the communal living room. All the Avengers, others that frequently worked with them like Sam Wilson and James Rhodes, Ms Pepper Potts, who was a category onto herself, and the guy with the eyepatch, who had the meanest scowl, aside from Snape, that Harry had ever seen.

“Start talking, kid,” Tony said from his spot on the couch beside Harry’s mother.

“About what?” Harry asked, confused but also suspecting they’d want to know about the thing in his scar.

“About the thing in your scar,” Tony said, waving his hand frantically in the general direction of Harry’s head. “We all saw what came out of it and we want to know how it got to be in there in the first place.”

“Haraldr,” Loki said with a patient smile while his eyes were sharp as ever. “Someone performed very foul magic on you. Please tell us what you know.”

Harry sighed. He’d been dreading this moment. Telling everyone he was a wizard. On the one hand, the people around him seemed reasonably accepting of magic. But on the other hand, there was the Statute of Secrecy and Harry really didn’t want to break it, since it had dire consequences.

But perhaps Harry could exploit a little loophole he thought he’d found. See, you weren’t allowed to tell muggles who were unaware of magic about magic. “Before I can tell you anything,” Harry said carefully, pointedly. “I need you all to tell me that you know magic exists.”

“What?” Sam Wilson asked.

“I know magic exists,” Bucky said, which earned him a proud smile from Steve, who immediately added, “And I also know magic exists.”

Pepper Potts was next, and then Loki and Thor and James Rhodes and eventually everyone gave a verbal confirmation, even Tony, though he did roll his eyes while doing so.

“Thanks. Also, I’m a wizard,” Harry said and watched people look at him in confusion. “I am a wizard who for most of the year goes to a magical school alongside other wizards and witches.”

“Okay, kid, keep talking,” Tony said, sitting up and leaning forward.

“Are you saying that there are magic-users living on earth? In some kind of organized fashion?” Natasha asked, head tilted as she looked at Harry as though she’d never seen a more interesting person in her life.

Harry swallowed. “Yeah. Each country has a hidden community of wizards and witches. We have our own governments, schools, prisons, shopping districts and other stuff.”

There was a brief moment of silence as everyone took in that incredible piece of information.

“Why the hell don’t we know about this?” Mr Eyepatch demanded, arms crossed as he glared around the room.

“Because your people used to burn my people at the stake,” Harry said in a deadpan sort of voice, causing Tony to snort with laughter.

“Point taken.” Mr Eyepatch looked at Natasha and Clint and appeared to be giving them some silent commands.

“That still doesn’t tell us how you received that abomination in your scar,” Loki said, narrowing his eyes as though he suspected Harry was purposefully not answering that question. And yeah, Harry kinda was hoping to avoid that subject, since he wasn’t sure how much to tell his parents and the Avengers about Voldemort.

“My parents…James and Lily Potter were murdered by a Dark Lord called Voldemort,” Harry explained to a riveted audience. “Then he tried to kill me with magic, but because my mum…Lily Potter had sacrificed herself for me, his magic backfired.” Harry touched his scar, which was nowadays nothing but a very thin, white line instead of the puffy, inflamed thing it had been. “I got my scar that evening. That’s all I know.”

“And what happened to this Dark Lord?” Steve asked, while beside him on the couch Bucky looked simultaneously worried sick on Harry’s behalf yet murderous towards anyone daring to harm him.

“He got hit with the curse meant for me which blew up his body. I don’t actually remember any of it, as I was just over a year old. This is all hearsay,” Harry felt compelled to add.

“Haraldr, if anyone tries to harm you again,” Thor said as he gazed at Harry with a solemn look, placing a large hand on Harry’s knee, “you need only tell us and we will all fight alongside you to defeat your enemies.”

Yeah, and that was exactly what Harry was afraid of.

Chapter Text

Number 8

It happened during official movie night, while Harry sat between his parents, slowly dozing off during the second of the Lord of the Rings movies. Harry loved the story, but the movies were just so long and he was so comfortable between the two large bodies on either side of him and his eyelids grew heavy without Harry even realizing it.

A burst of flames appeared out of nowhere behind them all, shooting up from floor to ceiling before revealing three figures standing in the middle of the communal living room.

A lot of things happened at once. Harry’s parents jumped up, positioning themselves in front of Harry. Bucky vaulted over the coffee table and threw himself between Harry’s parents right on top of Harry.

Steve snatched up the big, wooden tray that held the snacks, spilling popcorn and chips everywhere while he held the tray like a shield. Tony yelled at Jarvis to deploy his suit and before long the whine of Iron Man’s thrusters filled the room. Natasha pulled a gun out of nowhere, while Clint suddenly held knives in both hands.

Harry, still buried under a lot of Bucky, managed to make out parts of their unexpected visitors and saw aquamarine robes with silver stars on them.

Well, there was no mistaking robes like that.

“Professor Dumbledore,” Harry said, though it sounded muffled against Bucky’s shoulder.

“Hello, Harry,” Professor Dumbledore said pleasantly, as if he didn’t have some of the most lethal individuals on the planet pointing weapons at him. “Ms Granger told me what happened. These people convinced you James and Lily are not your parents?”

Bucky slowly let Harry up enough so he could look over the back of the couch properly, though Bucky hovered closely behind Harry, glaring at the newcomers while the plates on his metal arm shifted up and down.

“We are Haraldr’s parents,” Thor said with great conviction, and then added, much to Harry’s mortification, “My brother Loki and myself conceived Haraldr together.”

“Preposterous,” Snape snarled, standing on Dumbledore’s left. On the other side stood Mad-Eye Moody, the real one Harry assumed, since the fake one had been kissed by a dementor at the end of the school year. Moody’s magical eye was rolling in its socket as he tried to look at everyone around him at once.

Snape’s narrowed gaze landed on Harry. “The boy is a complete copy of his father. Just as arrogant and selfish.”

“Pardon?” Thor said in confusion, just as Iron Man took a step forward, helmet retracting to reveal a severely unimpressed looking Tony.

“Yeah, sorry to disappoint you, Grima, but we tested the kid’s DNA and everything. We didn’t want to bring home the wrong boy and get his hopes up. Harry is Thor and Loki’s offspring, there is no doubt about that.”

“Be that as it may.” Dumbledore looked entirely unconvinced by Tony’s proclamation. Harry wondered if the old headmaster even knew what DNA was. “Harry has family at home, his aunt and uncle, who miss him dearly. And Harry staying here puts them all in danger.”

Loki, who had been oddly quiet, finally spoke up as he took sharp, tight steps towards their visitors. “You dare speak of Haraldr’s safety as though you care?”

“I beg your pardon?” Dumbledore said, chin tilted up as he took Loki in top to bottom. “I care deeply for Harry and his safety is of great importance to me.”

“You lie,” Loki all but whispered as he stopped in front of Dumbledore. “If you truly cared you wouldn’t have let Haraldr suffer from the abomination that was trapped in the scar on his head for years. If you truly cared, you would have seen it removed.”

“What have you done?” Dumbledore asked in shock, taking in Harry’s face with wide eyes and apparently only now noticing that Harry’s scar was pretty much gone.

Loki drew himself up even more, towering above the headmaster. “I have done what any parent would do. I have removed a direct threat to Haraldr’s safety and happiness.” Loki’s mouth curved up in a terrible grin, showing far too many teeth. “In fact, that is exactly what I’ll be doing today as well.”

And before anyone could stop him, Loki swirled his hands around in a few complicated gestures and from one second to the next Dumbledore, Snape and Moody disappeared with a quiet pop.

“Where did they go?” Harry asked, mouth hanging open. Behind him he heard Bucky chuckle quietly.

Loki shrugged as he turned to Harry with a smile that suggested he hadn’t felt this satisfied in at least a few hundred years. “I have sent them back where they came from, though I didn’t pinpoint their location precisely. They might have landed a few hundred miles off-centre."

“Wow,” Harry breathed, impressed but also feeling slightly worried about Dumbledore. Though, after Harry realized Dumbledore had known something really foul had lived in Harry’s scar for years, as he’d told Harry as much in his second year, and after feeling so much better without it, Harry had lost some of his fondness for the headmaster. “Can you teach me how to do that?”

Loki visibly puffed up with pride. “That, my child, and much more.”

Chapter Text

Number 9

Loki took one look at Harry’s wand and said, “This is a little crutch for children. You will not need it to perform magic.”

Some part of Harry wanted to object, since he loved his wand. It genuinely felt like a part of him. But Harry had seen his mother perform magic without a wand. Loki performed all this magic, big and small, without any obvious tools, so Harry’s curiosity was piqued, especially because it would give him a real edge against Voldemort. Harry hadn’t forgotten how their wands had connected in the graveyard. If Harry could strike at Voldemort without a wand, and thus taking him completely by surprise, Harry might have a chance against him.

Of course, Harry told none of that to his mother or his father.

Loki was a strict but caring teacher. Loki understood magic on levels that went way over Harry’s head. To Loki, magic was like breathing, something he could do without even thinking about it.

And therein lay the problem. To Harry, so far, the magic that Loki was trying to teach him did not come naturally. Harry had to concentrate with all he had and even then he couldn’t do a simple spell to produce a ball of light in his hand.

For days Loki kept mentioning a tree in space and how everything was connected and all Harry had to do was walk the tree, which made no fucking sense at all.

“Ugh.” Harry buried his face in his hands after his hundredth failed attempt.

“Haraldr,” Thor said as he crouched before Harry while Loki stood to the side with tightly crossed arms, frustration written clearly across his face. “Remember when you told me about this game you like to play, where you fly on a broomstick and catch a little ball?”

“Quidditch,” Harry supplied while glancing at his father through his fingers.

“Performing magic is like that,” Thor said, and he waved his hand through the air as though to point some invisible thing out. “The magic is already there. All you have to do is catch it. When you play your game, do you have to make the ball from scratch, or do you only have to close your hand around it?”

Harry slowly lowered his hands and stared at his father in amazement. That actually made sense!

“The magic is right here.” Thor slowly straightened with a knowing smile on his face. “Go catch it.”

“That is the most absurd explanation of magic I have ever heard,” Loki said while smacking Thor on the arm. “Now I have to start over again to explain the world tree to our son.”

But Harry barely paid them any attention. He closed his eyes, imagined the magic around him (maybe shaped like a tree in space, who knew?), but there for him to catch, just like a snitch. Harry quietly whispered the spell and held out his hand and caught the magic that flowed around him.

Opening his eyes, Harry saw a perfect ball of light floating above the palm of his hand. Harry looked up at his parents with a huge smile, which Thor answered with a wide grin and Loki with an absolutely gobsmacked expression.

“Just because I am not a mage like you, Loki, doesn’t mean I never paid attention during Mother’s lessons,” Thor said with a satisfied smirk while he bumped his elbow against Loki’s stomach.

“Well, if there was any doubt about Thor having fathered the kid, I think we can put that behind us from now on,” Tony said from his position on the couch where he sat playing with his phone, pretending not to be interested in the magic lessons.

And Harry learned a very important lesson that day. While Loki could run circles around Thor when it came to general intelligence, Thor did occasionally have something wise to say that went straight over Loki’s head.

Chapter Text

Number 10

The next time they had a visitor from the wizarding world, instead of breaking in via a column of flames, they announced themselves at the reception desk in the lobby.

“A Mr Lupin and Professor McGonagall are here to speak to Mr Potter,” Jarvis said right after breakfast, while everyone was busy cleaning up. “They say they have urgent news concerning Mr Potter’s relatives.”

“Do they even know those people aren’t really Harry’s relatives?” Tony asked no one in particular. Harry silently agreed with him. He’d thought about that little fact a few times over the weeks he’d been staying there, how Petunia and Dudley weren’t even related to him by blood and never had been.

Jarvis brought the elevator up to the penthouse where the Avengers placed themselves strategically around the room while Harry sat on a couch beside Bucky, while his parents hovered behind them.

“Harry,” Lupin said with a warm smile as they stepped out of the elevator. “It’s good to see you again.” McGonagall didn’t say anything but did offer Harry a small nod and an even smaller smile.

“I’m afraid we have bad news,” Lupin said as he accepted a seat on a chair near Harry that Bruce offered him. McGonagall stood at his side. “The Dursleys were all kissed by a dementor just two days ago.”

“What?” Harry stared at Lupin with wide eyes, his mind filled with disbelief.

“What’s a dementor?” Bucky whispered beside Harry, though he wasn’t the only one to wonder that out loud.

“Dementors are dark creatures that cause misery where ever they go,” McGonagall explained patiently. “They guard the wizarding prison Azkaban, and their worst weapon is the ability to suck out someone’s soul through a kiss. The victim will remain in a vegetative state until they pass away.”

“Show us these beasts so we can slay them!” Thor bellowed with thunder in his voice. “They have harmed Haraldr’s caretakers, so we shall have vengeance in their names!”

“The dementors in question were rogues,” Lupin said, looking slightly taken aback by Thor’s loud proclamations. “There are no other dementors roaming around that require termination.”

“A pity,” Thor said while he crossed his arms.

Harry wasn’t sure what to think about any of this. He didn’t like the Dursleys. Really, truly didn’t like them, even though for years he’d thought they were the only family he had left. And while he wouldn’t wish them dead, he couldn’t muster up many feelings of sympathy for what happened to them. Harry remembered all too well all the times Petunia, Vernon and Dudley had hurt him. Dudley beating him up every other day, Vernon smacking him on the head and dragging him around by his arm until his shoulder screamed in pain, and Petunia hitting him in the head with a frying pan. And that didn’t even address the locks on his bedroom door or the cat-flap through which they gave him insufficient portions of food for a growing, teenage boy.

Harry felt very little at all knowing the Dursleys were as good as dead.

“Vernon’s sister Marge is organizing the funeral, since as muggles they all passed away just a few hours after being kissed,” Lupin explained while giving Harry a sympathetic look. “We’re here to take you back so you can attend.”

“I don’t want to go,” Harry murmured while staring at his knees.

“Mr Potter,” McGonagall snapped while narrowing her eyes in disbelief. “They are your family, no matter what some people may have told you recently. The least you can do is –”

“Are you blind?” Clint asked, as he hopped off the edge of the kitchen table he’d been sitting on. “Do you truly not see what the hell is going on here?” Clint focussed his attention on Harry as he walked closer to him. “You don’t owe them anything, Harry. Not a goddamned thing. They never cared about you and you don’t have to pretend to care about them. They’re dead. Good riddance.”

Dead silence followed and Harry wanted the couch to swallow him whole as he kept staring at his knees, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes because he wasn’t sure what he’d find there. What he wanted to find there. Disbelief? Judgement? Sympathy? Harry wanted none of it.

“I told you I’d teach you how to use a bow,” Clint said, gesturing at Harry to get up. “So, let’s go shoot some arrows.”

Harry didn’t think he’d ever been more grateful to have a valid excuse to leave a room. He jumped up and all but plastered himself against Clint’s side. “Nice meeting you,” Clint said with a slight sneer. “Don’t let the door hit you on the way out.” And with his hand on Harry’s back he led him into the elevator.

An hour later, as Harry was just allowed to try using a bow by himself, Lupin walked into the shooting range.

“I won’t mention your muggle family again,” Lupin said, holding up a hand in surrender as Clint glared at him. “And Mr Stark showed us the evidence of your parentage. I swear, Harry, we had no idea James and Lily had adopted you.”

Shrugging, Harry scuffed his shoe against the wooden floor. “I’m honestly not sure if James and Lily even knew they adopted me. My grandfather may very well have made them believe they gave birth to me. Loki said that would be something he’d do to hide me.”

Lupin nodded in understanding. “It doesn’t even matter in the end. James and Lily loved you, Harry, and you were their child, no matter how you came into their lives.”

Harry swallowed against a lump in his throat. He hadn’t realized how much he needed to hear someone say that about his adoptive parents. Ever since learning the truth about his parentage, Harry had wondered what James and Lily would make of him if they knew. “And what about Sirius?” Harry asked Lupin, since he hadn’t heard from his godfather since the end of his schoolyear. He’d hoped Sirius would at least send him a letter or something. “Is he still my godfather?”

“Yes, of course he is,” Lupin said quickly, and then sighed. “Sirius is still recovering in some ways, Harry, and he doesn’t believe you aren’t James and Lily’s biological son. This was a huge surprise for all of us. I will talk to him.”

“All right. Thanks.” Harry turned back to Clint while Lupin quietly left them to it and walked out of the room.

They spent the rest of the day on the shooting range and Harry learned a lot about shooting with bow and arrow and he was ever so grateful he didn’t have to think about the Dursleys at all. By the time they made their way back to the communal area for food, Lupin and McGonagall were gone and everyone else pretended nothing had happened, which suited Harry just fine.

Chapter Text

Number 11

They left in the middle of the night while it was still dark. Harry had no idea why, just that Tony told them to come to the roof while wearing comfy clothes for hot weather. Everyone filed into the Quinjet while yawning and rubbing their eyes.

Just as the sun peeked over the horizon they arrived at their destination.

“Happy birthday, kid!” Tony said, slapping Harry on the shoulder. “I made a few calls and they’re opening the park for us so we can celebrate your birthday. In return, they get to have some promo-shots with the Avengers hugging Mickey or something, we’ll see.”

Harry found himself entering a theme park called The Magic Kingdom, which was one of the parks in Walt Disney World in Florida. And even Harry, though he’d literally grown up in a cupboard, had heard of Disney.

“This is amazing,” Harry breathed as they walked inside the completely empty park. A few PR people and a photographer from Disney joined them to help them navigate the park in the short amount of time they had before the park would open to the public. The photographer had strict instructions only to take photos of the Avengers themselves, not any of their guests, which he did without any problems.

Harry and everyone else got to go on rides like Space Mountain, which was his favourite, and Big Thunder Mountain Railroad and Splash Mountain, which were both a close second. They also enjoyed Pirates of the Caribbean and the Haunted Mansion, both which were pretty funny in their own way.

By then it was almost time to open the park, and they all gathered to have breakfast in a private room in one of the restaurants, where they were visited by lots of the characters and the photographer went mad taking shots of Captain America kissing Minnie Mouse’s hand and Hawkeye fist-bumping Goofy.

Harry, feeling famished at that point, ate his fill of the breakfast buffet, his plate overflowing with scrambled eggs, bacon, hash browns, waffles and pancakes. Bucky followed Harry around the buffet and put the exact things Harry choose on his own plate as well. Harry figured this was Bucky’s way of figuring out which of the things on offer were actually good to eat.

“So, best birthday party ever?” Tony asked him as they left the park through the underground tunnels so as not to be mobbed by the public.

“Only birthday party ever,” Harry blurted before he could stop himself, and then he quickly ducked his head. Tony patted his shoulder while Harry heard his mother muttering that if the Dursleys weren’t already dead he’d go and take care of that right away.

Chapter Text

Number 12

August was coming to an end and Harry needed to get ready to return to Hogwarts. Problem was, Harry’s mother refused to let him go.

“Haraldr, you have been making amazing progress with your magic,” Loki told him with a very reasonable look in his eyes and an utterly serene smile. “I can teach you all you need to know. You are not human. You have no need for their magic.”

Harry swallowed. A part of him, a small part, was tempted to just go along with Loki, just stay in the tower and enjoy spending time with his new family and friends. But Harry had other friends that he missed and that he wanted to see again.

And then there was Voldemort, who Harry knew wouldn’t stop looking for him if Harry just disappeared from the wizarding world. And Harry understood that by him staying in the tower all year long, he’d be all but inviting Voldemort and his Death Eaters to come find him there.

And what chance did most of the Avengers stand against a killing curse?

“I want to go back to Hogwarts,” Harry muttered for the umpteenth time. “I have friends I want to see and I enjoy learning human magic.”

Loki made a face as if he suddenly smelled something rotten right under his nose.

“Brother,” Thor said from where he sat beside Harry at the breakfast table. “Remember when you wanted to go study magic on Vanaheim and our father refused to let you go because he thought it a waste of time?”

“That was different.” Loki narrowed his eyes at Thor, obviously not liking where Thor was going with his story one bit.

“Mother intervened on your behalf, because she understood you needed it.” Thor paused for a moment to stare into his brother’s eyes. “Not to learn magic, you could do that at home. But to grow up and mature away from home.”

Loki sighed and shot Thor a very dirty look. “Bringing our mother into this. That was unnecessary.”

“You know she’d tell you to let Haraldr go and join his friends at this school he loves so much.”

Shrugging, Loki seemed to consider things carefully for a few moments. “Fine, Haraldr can go.” Loki turned to Harry and gave him a very intimidating look while crossing his arms. “Tony is working on getting a telephone to work around your magic. You will call us if you are in any danger. No discussion.”

“Yeah, I will,” Harry said, beaming at his mother, knowing he wouldn’t call them unless the situation was truly dire.

Later, when Thor and Harry were alone in their private living room, Thor turned towards Harry. “You must forgive Loki for clinging as much as he does. Loki does not want to lose you again like he has lost his other children.”

Harry nodded his understanding, having heard bits and pieces about the lives of his siblings. It had certainly put his own strange life in perspective. Besides, deep down Harry rather liked having a parent who wanted to cling to him. It was more than he remembered ever having before.

Chapter Text

Number 13

“You didn’t tell them about Voldemort?” Hermione all but hissed at him.

Harry glanced around the train compartment they were in. The strange girl, Luna something, was distracted by her magazine, Neville was politely staring out the window, pretending not to be listening, and Ginny stared at him without a hint of shame at being caught eavesdropping.

“Look,” Harry said in a desperate attempt to reason with a furious Hermione. “I did tell them about Voldemort, about how he killed my mum and – I mean, James and Lily.”

“They’re still your mum and dad, Harry,” Hermione said softly, knowingly. “Maybe call them adoptive parents?”

Harry considered that for a moment. “Yeah, that works. Anyway, I did mention Voldemort, is my point.”

“But apparently you conveniently forgot to mention he’s back!” Hermione’s eyes had narrowed again.

“Mate,” Ron said from where he sat beside Harry. “Why not ask them for help? Hermione said they help all sorts of people in the muggle world, right?”

“They stopped an alien invasion,” Hermione said with a pointed look at Harry.

“But they’re still muggles, and I’ve been skirting around the Statute of Secrecy enough as is.” Harry gnashed his teeth together for a moment in sheer frustration. “And the ministry hates me enough already, I mean, have you seen the Prophet lately? I bet they’d like any excuse to mess with me, and if they found out I’ve involved a bunch of muggles in wizarding affairs they might sent people to come obliviate everyone and that would not end well, trust me.”

Harry did not want to know what the Winter Soldier would do to anyone who came to wipe his memory again. Not to mention what Steve would do alongside him. And then there was his mother and father, who weren’t even human, for fuck’s sake. Loki had more magic in his little finger than all of the British ministry combined, Harry was sure of it. Not to mention, Loki looked like he’d happily take any excuse to work out his frustrations in life on a whole bunch of humans sent to harm him and his family.

Yeah, best to let sleeping Avengers lie and all that.

Hermione chewed on her lip as she mulled things over. “I suppose you’re right,” she finally conceded “The ministry as it is right now wouldn’t look favourably on muggles involving themselves in wizarding affairs.” She leaned a little closer to Harry. “But if something happens, if Voldemort becomes a direct threat, you will tell them.”

“Sure,” Harry said easily. He wasn’t stupid. If he really needed it, he’d ask his parents and the others for help.

“I wonder why the ministry’s being so difficult right now?” Ron asked no one in particular.

“It’s the heliopaths,” Luna, the strange girl said as she lowered her magazine to stare at them with wide, slightly bulging eyes. “They’ve gotten to Fudge. My father wrote an article about it just last month.”

There were several long moments of baffled silence.

“What are heliopaths?” Harry whispered in Ron’s general direction.

“Dunno,” Ron said with a shrug.

Harry sat back and stared at the ceiling. Whatever heliopaths were, they couldn’t be worse than his mother on a warpath. Fudge should consider himself lucky.

Chapter Text

Number 14

Harry found the Winter Soldier sitting on his bed in the middle of the night when he woke up. In the Gryffindor fifth year boys’ dormitory. At Hogwarts.

“What?” Harry managed to say while he frantically blinked his eyes to make the image before him go away. No such luck.

“Volunteered to check up on you,” Bucky whispered while crouching on the foot of Harry’s bed, the curtains hiding him from view from the rest of the boys sleeping around them. He quietly handed Harry a box of chocolate-covered Oreos. On auto-pilot, Harry accepted them.

“What?” Harry said again, because…what was happening?

Bucky reached inside his leather jacket that was lined with knives and…was that a gun? Were those two guns, no, three? He pulled out an amulet that Harry could barely make out in the darkness. “Your mother made these so we can see all the wizarding stuff.”

His mother. Of course. Harry should have known. For all that his mother apparently wanted to kill everyone in the world at all times, when it came to Harry he was a regular mother hen and had barely let him return to Hogwarts at all. And now he’d sent spies to check up on him.

Harry supposed he should be grateful it was Bucky who volunteered. If Natasha had shown up, Harry would have never seen her coming. She’d have returned to report all of Harry’s carefully kept secrets to his mother before Harry would even know she was there.

“Tell him I’m fine,” Harry said, subconsciously sliding his wounded hand under the covers.

Apparently, those weird Nazis that had brainwashed Bucky for decades had also given him excellent night vision because before he knew what was happening, Harry felt metal fingers gently close around his wrist.

“Who did this?” Bucky demanded, carefully looking Harry’s hand over. The words Umbridge made him carve into his hand over and over were barely visible but the wound still stung.

“Nobody,” Harry said quickly. Too quickly. But truth was, Harry didn’t want The Avengers bearing down on Hogwarts with all their might. He was genuinely concerned there wouldn’t be a castle left standing after his father was done exacting vengeance in the name of his son. Never mind what the Hulk would do if he were ever to get involved.

Bucky frowned at him for a few seconds before apparently making up his mind. “I’m telling your mother.” And with that, Bucky hopped off the bed and disappeared into the darkness. Harry barely heard the door open and close.

“No, wait!” Harry called after him, trying to untangle himself from his blankets. He threw himself out of bed, tripped over his trunk and fell face-first on the floor.

“Bwah?” Ron said from the bed beside him.

Harry didn’t even bother raising his head from the floor. They were fucked. They were all incredibly fucked.

Loki was coming to Hogwarts.

Chapter Text

Number 15

Harry was writing lines into the back of his own hand, again, when he noticed an owl land on the windowsill behind Umbridge, who sat at her desk grading essays on all the things they weren’t learning in her classes.

It was a solid, black owl with glowing green eyes, which stared at Harry with a gaze full of all sorts of accusations.

Harry froze in his seat.

“Is there a problem, Mr Potter?” Umbridge asked sweetly, head tilted as she smiled at him. Umbridge couldn’t bear the idea of Harry not causing himself irreversible harm for even one second while in her office.

“Er…” was all Harry managed to say before Loki materialized right behind Umbridge.

“What is the meaning of this?” Loki asked in a tone of voice that meant he was hanging onto his sanity by only the slightest of threads. “Haraldr, why are you cutting yourself with such foul magic?”

Umbridge let out a tiny little squeak, all but fell out of her chair and whirled around to meet Harry’s mother. Umbridge was so small, she had to throw her head almost completely back to look up at Loki. “How dare you interrupt this boy’s detention? I do not care who you are, I will report you to the ministry for this criminal trespassing.”

Loki’s answering grin was terrible to behold. “I am this boy’s mother and I am here to find out why my son is being made to harm himself.”

“Because he’s a liar!” Umbridge all but shrieked, puffing up like an angry bullfrog. “This boy has done nothing but spew lies, going against the ministry’s carefully considered interpretation of events.”

“A liar, is he?” Loki laughed, a sharp enough sound to cut through stone. “That is no surprise, given who his mother is.” Loki turned towards Harry, who still sat frozen behind the small desk in front of Umbridge’s opulent one. “Haraldr, show me your hand.”

The temperature in the room dropped to such a degree that for a moment Harry was sure dementors were invading Hogwarts and heading straight for them. He didn’t dare disobey his mother, not when his face looked cut from glass, his skin gaining the slightest blue-ish tint. Harry stuck out his hand, showing the bleeding words on the back of it.

“I must not tell lies,” Loki read out loud and turned back to Umbridge, who had her wand pointed at Loki’s belly button. One snap of Loki’s fingers and the wand turned to ashes that floated gently to the floor.

“How dare you!” Umbridge screeched while she stomped her foot against her fluffy, pink rug.

“If my son must not tell lies, then the same shall be true for you, Madam.” And while smirking like a supervillain people once thought he was, Loki tapped a finger against Umbridge’s forehead. He offered Harry a brief, narrow-eyed look that promised they would talk about this sometime in the future, and a second later Loki was gone as though he’d never been there in the first place.

“I will see you expelled for this!” Umbridge stabbed her short little finger in Harry’s direction and marched out of her office.

“What?” Harry scrambled to grab his things and all but ran after Umbridge, who rushed towards the Great Hall. It was Saturday afternoon, almost dinner time, so the hall was rapidly filling with students and teachers.

“I want Mr Potter expelled, right now!” Umbridge yelled as she entered the hall and charged straight towards the head table. Dumbledore, who had just sat down, rose again and blinked at Umbridge. “The boy didn’t even have the decency to be home when I sent dementors after him this summer to see him kissed, but I am done with his insistence to tell the truth and I want him expelled immediately!”

All around them students fell quiet and stared at Umbridge as she stopped in front of the head table, glaring up at the headmaster with all her might.

“Well? Expel him, Dumbledore!” Umbridge pointed her stubby little finger at the headmaster.

Dumbledore seemed to regain some of his composure after a brief moment of obvious shock. “On what grounds should I expel Mr Potter, Dolores?”

“On the grounds that he interrupts me when I torture him in my office,” Umbridge said, earning whispers and shouts from students all around them. At the head table, McGonagall turned white as a sheet, Sprout clapped a hand over her mouth and Flitwick hurried out of the hall through a side door. “All the mudbloods I’ve been maiming with my blood quill have kept quiet and accepted that they deserve to suffer for their dirty blood, but Mr Potter can’t even make it an hour of enduring excruciating pain without interrupting me. His behaviour is out of control and if I could get away with it I would torture him to death with a cruciatus curse.”

Dead silence was followed by harsh whispers and raised voices and students shouting over each other, hurling accusations of all sorts at Umbridge, from her terrible classes to her torturing students during detention.

Flitwick came running back into the hall, followed by three red-robed Aurors. “There she is. She confessed in front of everyone she sent the dementors that killed Mr Potter’s muggle family this summer.”

Umbridge whirled around and cackled at Flitwick. “Of course I sent them. Cornelius insisted I find a way to shut the boy up and leaving him a soulless husk would have done that job nicely. Now I’m stuck torturing the boy for hours and hours every week by making him carve words in his own skin with dark magic, yet he insists on showing me nothing but insolence while he keeps telling everyone who will listen the truth. The boy must be stopped, permanently if I can manage to get away with murder.”

One tall, muscular Auror raised his wand in an almost lazy fashion and fired off a silent stunner at Umbridge, who dropped to the floor like a full bag of potatoes. “We’ve heard enough.” He waved his wand around and Umbridge’s unresponsive body floated towards them.

“Ah, yes, Auror Shacklebolt,” Dumbledore said after a rather awkward pause while the students around them were cheering and hollering. “I assume you will take it from here, and that I’ll need to find yet another Defence against the Dark Arts teacher.”

Chaos erupted as students at all tables jumped up on top of their benches and threw quills and parchment and scarves into the air to celebrate Umbridge’s demise. Harry slunk towards the Gryffindor table where Ron and Hermione were waving him over.

“What the hell just happened?” Ron demanded in a shout, as the noise around them had yet to die down.

Harry glanced around the out of control students and snickered. “My mother just happened.”

Chapter Text

Number 16

Right before the Christmas holidays, Arthur Weasley was attacked by a venomous snake in the ministry of magic. Arthur managed to send of his Patronus to his wife before succumbing to the venom and slipping into unconsciousness. Molly alerted anyone she could and an emergency rescue mission was mounted and Arthur taken to St Mungo’s at once. His condition was critical and Arthur himself remained in a coma while the healers fought to save his life.

Early in the morning Ron and Harry were woken up by McGonagall wearing a tartan dressing gown.

“Your father is in the hospital, Mr Weasley,” McGonagall said, her eyes soft with sympathy. A groggy-looking Ron was awake at once, almost tripping as he jumped out of bed. “The headmaster wants to see you both.”

“Why me?” Harry asked, rubbing a hand across his face while he reached for his glasses.

“The headmaster wants you both moved to a safe location at once, since Arthur Weasley was attacked in the Ministry while on Order business.”

“But I’m going home tomorrow for the holidays,” Harry said, thoroughly confused. He was looking forward to seeing his parents and everyone else. He hadn’t seen them since Bucky’s and his mother’s brief visits and he missed them. Though Harry knew Bucky still popped by every now and then but just didn’t wake Harry up, since Harry found offerings of boxes of cookies or bags of M&Ms on his pillow in the mornings when he woke up every two weeks or so.

“Mr Potter,” McGonagall said with a tired sigh. “Please just go see the headmaster. We’re all doing this for your and your friends’ safety.”

“Yeah, all right.” And Harry slipped on his thick dressing gown and fluffy slippers, courtesy of Tony and Jarvis, who had supplied Harry with a whole new wardrobe during the summer, for which Harry was secretly very grateful. Ginny and the twins were waiting for them in the common room and together they trooped towards Dumbledore’s office through the dark hallways.

What followed was half an hour of chaos as Dumbledore called out orders, portraits appeared and disappeared in their frames with news and warnings and the Weasley children were pale and quiet with worry for their dad.

Harry very much felt like an outsider, intruding on the family and their concern for their patriarch.

Before Harry even knew what was happening, Dumbledore made Harry read a slip of paper with an address and urged Harry to grab hold of an old kettle together with the Weasleys and he was pulled via portkey to a gloomy basement kitchen where Sirius stood waiting for them. Sirius looked unkempt and slightly dazed, as if part of his mind was permanently occupied elsewhere.

Harry sat at the table while the Weasley kids almost mounted a mutiny to see their dad at the hospital until their mum sent news Arthur was still alive and being treated.

“Sirius,” Harry said later, after they’d had their fill of butterbeer. “I’m happy to see you, but I’m supposed to go home to my parents for Christmas tomorrow. I’m not even sure why I’m here in the first place.”

“You’re here because Thicknesse is looking for an excuse to go after anyone associated with Dumbledore,” Sirius said. Pius Thicknesse was Umbridge’s replacement. Another flunky of Fudge, but as an actual Auror he did know a thing or two about defence and he let them use practical spells, so his classes weren’t half-bad if you discounted all the ministry propaganda about Voldemort’s not-return Thicknesse liked to spew from time to time.

Sirius’ eyes turning flinty as he stared at Harry. “I know you’re confused, Harry, but you have to understand those people are not your parents.”

Harry swallowed against a sudden lump in his throat. He liked Sirius, had really liked the connection to his parents (or what Harry thought were his biological parents at the time) his godfather offered him. And so it hurt to have Sirius act so dismissively of the fact Harry now had living, breathing parents who cared for him in their own enthusiastic and occasionally slightly homicidal ways.

“James and Lily died for you,” Sirius continued in a harsh whisper, eyes full of a feverish intensity. “They’re your parents, and they made me your godfather and I’m saying you’re staying here.”

Turning on his heels, Harry marched to the stairs that led up to the hallway. He tried the front door, but found it locked. Then he tried every window he could find, but found those locked as well.

He was being held a prisoner by his own godfather. What the fuck?

The next morning, after no one had any sleep, the Weasley children were allowed to go to St Mungo’s. Harry was told to stay put, which he did since he didn’t have much choice. Harry snuck away from Sirius as often as he could and tried to use any spells he knew against the front door, to open it, trace be damned, but nothing he did worked.

It wasn’t until late in the afternoon, when McGonagall dropped off all their trunks, that Harry had the tool to break out. The phone Tony had built and Loki had charmed to work amongst magic and that Harry kept hidden in his trunk for emergencies. He hadn’t told anyone about it, wanting to keep some things for himself.

“I’d like to leave now to join my parents for Christmas,” Harry stated very firmly and clearly to Sirius, Moody and McGonagall. “If you do not let me go you’ll be holding me here against my will and I won’t be responsible for the consequences.”

McGonagall at least looked somewhat dubious but ultimately shook her head. “I’m sorry, Mr Potter, but the headmaster decided it was better if you stayed here for the holidays. Voldemort is on the move after his attack on Arthur Weasley.” Whatever respect he may have had for his Head of House, Harry lost it that day.

“You’ve got no business with a bunch of muggles telling you stories,” Moody added, sounding just a tad bitter. Loki had magically kicked them out of the tower once, sending them to Merlin knew where in Europe.

“They’re not your parents,” Sirius kept saying, while filling more than half of his teacup with whiskey when he thought no one was looking. “You’re staying here.”

Yeah, no, Harry had heard enough. With a heavy, slightly broken heart, Harry retreated to the room he and Ron been assigned and activated the phone and after some thought pressed on the little icon that held his father’s picture. No need to directly involve his mother just yet. This way Harry hoped Thor would share the news with Loki and keep him from doing anything too rash.

“Haraldr!” Thor answered after a few moments. “It is good to hear from you, my son! We are all looking forward to your return.”

“Dad,” Harry whispered and inhaled a deep, shaky breath. “I need your help.”

Thor’s tone of voice shifted at once from exuberant to sober. “Tell me what you need.”

“Dumbledore and Sirius and everyone else are keeping me locked up in…” Harry couldn’t say the location where he was and then he realized the house was under a Fidelius charm so of course he couldn’t give the exact address. “London. I can’t give you the exact location because of a protective spell,” he finally managed. “And they’re saying I can’t come home for Christmas and have to stay here and all the doors and windows are locked and I can’t leave and I really, really want to come home.”

Thor’s voice was steady and soothing as he spoke, calming Harry’s racing heart and mind at once. “Stay where you are, Haraldr. We are coming for you. Loki explained that both he and Tony put trackers inside the phone they gave you so we will find you.” And then he hung up and Harry leaned back on the bed he was sitting on, hoping he hadn’t made a mistake to unleash the Avengers on the Order of the Phoenix.

Not that they didn’t have it coming. Kidnapping minors, purposefully keeping them away from their parents was crossing lines that shouldn’t be crossed, in Harry’s opinion.

“I’ve alerted my parents I’ve been kidnapped,” Harry told Sirius, Moody and a few other Order members as he joined them in the basement kitchen after placing his trunk near the front door, ready to depart. Harry had no doubt his parents and the Avengers would find a way to get to him, Fidelius charm or not. “Let me go now and you won’t be harmed. I cannot guarantee your safety once my parents show up.”

“They’re not your parents!” Sirius snapped, eyes slightly red with sorrow or alcohol, Harry wasn’t sure. He mostly just felt pity when looking at Sirius since seeing his godfather again. It was clear that learning Harry wasn’t really James’ son hadn’t done Sirius and his already fragile mind any favours.

“What are a bunch of muggles going to do?” Moody asked with a crooked grin, showing off the many scars on his face even more. “We’re under a Fidelius charm. No one’s ever broken one of those.”

“We’re doing this for your safety,” some woman Harry didn’t know said in a slightly snooty tone.

“Believing some muggles and their fancy tales,” an unknown man said with a brief sniff while raising his nose in the air.

“My parents aren’t muggles,” Harry pointed out steadily, leaning against the doorpost. “They’re not even human. They’re gods.”

And as if on cue, a burst of thunder so loud filled the sky outside that it shook the entire house on its foundation, cups rattling in the cupboard, books falling off shelves.

“What the hell was that?” Moody asked, wand in his hand but pointed at nothing.

“That was my dad,” Harry said with an amused smile. “Just let me go already, before he brings the house down.”

“We’re not just handing you over to a bunch of strangers,” the unknown man said, and why the hell did some guy Harry didn’t even know think he had anything to say about Harry’s life when Harry’s real family was outside waiting for him. Harry turned his back on the lot of them and rushed up the stairs. The living room at the front of the house offered a perfect view of the street outside and Harry tried an eavesdropping spell on the window and was delighted it worked.

Harry’s father was standing in the middle of the street, hammer raised and lightening crackling around him. Harry’s mother stood beside Iron Man, both staring at the spot number twelve, Grimmauld Place was located at. It remained invisible to their eyes for the time being.

“My reading says Harry’s right here,” Tony said, helmet retracting as he looked around in confusion.

“My spells say the same thing,” Loki said, tilting his head as he stared right at the invisible house. “A clever little spell, but not clever enough. I cannot see the house Haraldr is in, but I can see the magic around it.”

“Then I can break that spell,” Thor announced and threw a huge bolt of lightning directly at the house, which shook and groaned. Windows everywhere cracked while blue and white whisps of electricity crawled up and down the outside walls.

“Hmm.” Loki stared at the invisible house. “Do that again, brother. But do put a little more effort into it.”

Thor snorted and shook his head in faint amusement and called for more lightning, followed by roaring thunder as he unleashed it upon the old townhouse, which creaked and started crumbling, windows cracking, glass falling everywhere, and roof tiles flying off the house and landing in the street breaking on impact and sending fragments flying everywhere. Most even made it beyond the border of the Fidelius charm and hit Thor, Loki and Tony,

“Yay!” Tony said, doing a little dance in place. “It’s working. I can add some missiles, but that might end up hurting Harry.”

“Yes,” Loki agreed with a smirk. “That would probably be a little bit too much of a good thing.”

“Pity,” Tony sighed while Thor launched another barrage of lightning at the house. Bricks were falling apart and flying everywhere, while windowpanes cracked and splintered.

“What is going on here?” a new voice sounded behind Harry, who was watching the whole thing through the now glassless window with a huge grin. Mrs Weasley stood in the doorway, her children crowding behind her, trying to see what was going on. Further inside the house the attending Order members were running around, calling for Dumbledore and seriously considering going outside and attacking Harry’s parents.

Fools.

“Sorry for the ruckus, Mrs Weasley,” Harry said with an apologetic shrug. “But Dumbledore is keeping me here against my will and I just want to go home for Christmas so my parents have come to get me.”

“What?” Ron asked in great confusion from behind his mother. Mrs Weasley on the other hand narrowed her red-rimmed eyes and swung around, her children parting at once to let her through.

“Follow me, Harry dear.” Mrs Weasley marched towards the front door and smacked her wand against it before pulling it open, just as Thor threw a final burst of lightning at the structure, breaking the Fidelius charm at last.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing, Molly?” Moody demanded as he came clunking up to them.

Harry stood with one hand around a trunk handle and waved at his parents from the opened doorway. “Be right there!”

“Take your time, son!” Thor called back with wide grin and answering wave.

“What the hell am I doing?” Molly demanded, hands on her hips as she lay into Moody and the rest of the kidnapping Order members. “What are you doing, keeping a child away from his parents? Is that the kind of organization you are running here, because I will have no part of that.”

“Listen, Molly,” Moody started, but Molly cut him off with a vicious swipe of her hand.

“No, I don’t even want to hear it. Harry goes home to spend time with his family as he should.” And at that moment, Mrs Weasley’s voice cracked and she lowered her face into her hand and Harry stepped up to her on instinct and gave her a hug, which she eagerly returned.

“I’m so sorry about what happened,” Harry whispered against her shoulder.

“Thank you, Harry dear,” Mrs Weasley whispered back. “Now go, your parents will be happy to see you.”

And with a wave at Ron, Ginny and the twins, Harry grabbed his trunk and hurried out the door and down the steps and right into his mother’s arms. Harry hugged Loki with all his might and squeezed his eyes shut when he felt Thor join the hug from behind him.

“We have missed you, Haraldr,” Thor said as he pressed a kiss to the top of Harry’s head.

“Missed you, too,” Harry said, because he had missed them and it was such a novel feeling, to have a family to miss, that Harry clung to it and to them for a very long moment.

Finally, they pulled apart and Harry gaped at the destroyed façade of twelve Grimmauld Place, glass and bricks and rubble spread all around them.

“Come on, kid, let’s go home,” Tony said as he stood looking at them with a lopsided smile.

And they did.

Chapter Text

Number 17

Clint and Natasha were sitting in the cockpit of the Quinjet that flew them home. The rest of the Avengers had stayed in New York to hold down the fort. Natasha winked at Harry and Clint offered him a high-five.

While they travelled across the ocean at enormous speeds, everyone urged Harry to talk about all the things that had happened at school, so Harry told them about Quidditch, about Ron becoming keeper and Malfoy trying to sabotage their games through a lively showtune.

“Sing it!” Tony demanded with a wicked grin.

Harry felt his cheeks heat. “No, I’m not going to sing it,” he muttered, ducking his head and staring at his knees.

“Haraldr,” his father said seriously from his seat beside Harry. “You cannot regale us with tales of a song used to fight your allies without treating us to a performance of this song.”

“Come on, kid, we wanna hear it!” Clint called from the cockpit.

So very slowly, very quietly, Harry sang ‘Weasley is our King’, while Tony held up his phone which Harry was pretty sure meant he was being filmed.

“Bravo!” Thor yelled, clapping Harry on the back so hard he almost fell off his seat. Both Clint and Natasha were applauding from the cockpit and Loki gave Harry a proud smile. “Now we shall all sing it!” And with that, Thor started bellowing “Weasley cannot save a thing, he cannot block a single ring, that’s why Slytherins all sing, Weasley is our King.”

At once Clint and Tony joined him, followed soon after by Natasha and Loki. Harry looked around the Quinjet and wondered what Malfoy would make of the fact that two gods and a bunch of muggles were taking possession of his song. After being nudged in his side by his father, Harry joined in on the singing.

That’s how they landed on Avengers tower, where everyone was standing on the landing deck waiting for them. They got some strange looks as they exited the Quinjet while loudly singing, but that didn’t last very long as everyone surged forward to clap Harry on the shoulder and back, welcoming him home. Ms Pepper Potts even gave him a brief hug and a kiss on the cheek.

Bucky offered Harry a plate with five cupcakes on it, covered in dogshit.

Seriously, the cupcakes looked like five chihuahuas had deposited perfect little round, brown turds on each of them.

“I made these for you,” Bucky said with a small, slightly awkward smile. Harry wasn’t sure if he’d ever even seen Bucky smile before. It really made him look…something. “They’re vanilla cakes with a mocha buttercream topping. Piped it on myself. Agatha has been telling me to create stuff.”

“Who’s Agatha?” Harry asked, suddenly worried Bucky had found a girlfriend and wondering why that thought upset him so much.

“My therapist,” Bucky said, gaze not meeting Harry’s. “She’s convinced that if I do enough occupational therapy and stuff I won’t want to kill people anymore.”

“And is it working?” Harry asked while accepting the plate.

Bucky shrugged. “So far, so good.”

“Ah.” Thor stepped up beside Harry. “I see the Soldier of Winter has made you an offering of his excellent baked goods. He has been hoarding these like a dragon hoards gold ever since he started baking. I have only had the pleasure of tasting one of his creations before.” And Thor gave Harry an expectant look.

Harry, still dubious if the little brown turds were edible at all, offered the plate to his father. “Want one?”

“Yes, thank you, son.” Thor snatched up a cupcake, took an enormous bite, and groaned in obvious pleasure.

“Yeah, don’t mind if I do,” Tony said, reaching for a cupcake, but Bucky gave him such a vicious snarl that Tony quickly snatched his hand back.

“Just Dad,” Harry said, holding the plate closer to his chest. “He did bring down the house, after all.”

“Just be careful, kid,” Sam said, standing beside Steve. “That buttercream has about eighty thousand calories. I swear, I ate two of those once, gained twenty pounds and my wings didn’t fit anymore.” Sam narrowed his eyes. “On second thought, Barnes probably did that on purpose.”

Bucky snickered while casting a brief glance at Sam.

“I’m onto you!” Sam pointed his finger first at his eyes and then at Bucky.

Meanwhile, Harry grabbed a cupcake and took a tentative bite. Holy crap. Like, literally, since the buttercream really did look like little turds, but it was so good! Harry moaned and for some reason, Bucky blushed, but Harry ignored him and ate the rest of the cupcake with his eyes closed.

“Is anyone else feeling a little dirty, watching a fifteen-year-old making those kinds of noises?” Tony wondered out loud.

“Tony, really,” Pepper scolded while grabbing Tony by the elbow and leading him inside. “Harry, don’t spoil your appetite with Bucky’s baking. We’re having pizza later for a welcome home dinner.”

“Yeah, okay,” Harry replied, tempted beyond belief just to finish the whole plate of cupcakes but controlling himself. “I’ll save them for after dinner. They’re one of the best things I’ve ever had.”

Bucky’s cheeks were glowing and he nodded, smiled very briefly, and hurried inside the tower.

To deal with the jetlag and time difference, Harry unpacked his trunk, let Hedwig out of her cage so she could use the elaborate parrot perch with different levels Jarvis had gotten her during the summer, and took a nap until his mother came to wake him up for dinner.

The whole dining table was covered in pizza boxes and everyone was walking around with plates and napkins and glasses of soda and bottles of beer. Harry had discovered the delicacy that was New York pizza during the summer and had quickly proclaimed it his favourite food.

“So, meet any cute girls while at school?” Clint asked him with an expectant smile as he sat down opposite Harry.

Behind them, Bucky walked into a door, his metal elbow leaving a significant dent.

Harry swallowed his bite of pepperoni pizza. “Well, there is one girl, Cho Chang, she’s real pretty, and she asked me to Hogsmeade, but she kept crying the whole time.”

“There is so much I want to say right now, but I’m worried about traumatizing the kid,” Tony said to Pepper, who rolled her eyes in response.

“Why was she crying?” Pepper asked with a kind smile.

“Er…her boyfriend died last year and I guess she’s still sad about that,” Harry said with a shrug. His whole date with Cho had been awkward and he hadn’t enjoyed it very much. “She wanted to talk about him a lot while we were in Hogsmeade.”

“Ah, you’re the rebound guy,” Tony said wisely, while Clint nodded in agreement. Even Natasha looked like she thought Tony was making a good point. “Don’t bother with that one, kid. She’s looking for a distraction, not a boyfriend.”

“That’s a little harsh, isn’t it?” Steve said while narrowing his eyes at Tony. “She’s hurting because she lost someone she loved.”

Harry felt decidedly weird having all the Avengers discuss his one stupid date with Cho.

“It’s not harsh,” Bucky suddenly said from where he stood in the middle of the room, pizza box in hand. Steve looked at him in surprise. “Harry deserves to be someone’s first choice, not their second.” When everyone turned to stare at him, for a moment Bucky looked like he wanted to draw a few weapons to deal with whatever conflict he was seeing, but in the end he turned on his heels, walked into the same door again, and finally managed to leave the room.

“What’s with him?” Harry asked no one in particular.

“Oh, there is so much I want to say right now,” Tony said while grinning like a loon.

“Don’t you dare,” Pepper told him with a vicious glare.

Chapter Text

Number 18

Harry had slept in, still getting used to the time difference, taken a long shower and fried himself a few eggs and some bacon for breakfast, when Jarvis told him he was expected in the communal living room. Harry ate the last few bites of food, dumped his plate in the sink, downed his tea and hurried towards the living room, curious what was going on.

All of the Avengers were gathered, plus lots of extra people. It reminded Harry of that time they’d wanted to know about his scar.

“Er…” Harry looked around in confusion and shuffled towards his mother who waved him over. Apparently, Loki had saved him a seat on the couch, so Harry sank down beside him and clasped his hands in his lap.

“It is paramount that we know of any threats that exist so that we can figure out how to best deal with them,” Mr Eyepatch said, who Harry now knew was called Nick Fury, director of SHIELD, the organization who worked with the Avengers. As far as Harry understood it, something bad had happened with SHIELD that involved Bucky, Steve, Sam and Natasha, but after a brief time of violence the bad guys had been found out and SHIELD had reformed and continued to work to keep the world safe. Or something. “This includes threats originating in the wizarding world. Is there something you’d like to tell us, Harry?”

Harry looked up, unsure what Fury was getting at, though he was starting to have a very strong suspicion what this was all about. “I’m good,” Harry said with a shrug, realizing that every eye in the room was on him.

“Natasha,” Fury said, stepping back so Natasha could come forward. She stood in front of them with her arms crossed and a narrowed gaze.

“For the last few months, I have been infiltrating the wizarding world,” Natasha said, and at once Harry wondered if she’d made it into Hogwarts, like Bucky had. “The Dark Lord Harry told us killed his parents has returned. He was never dead, just without a body for over a decade. And Harry was aware of this fact, since he was an unwilling participant in Voldemort’s resurrection at the end of the previous school year.”

Harry swallowed, breathing speeding up as he remembered a flash of green light, Cedric’s dead body falling onto the grass, Voldemort rising from the cauldron and the excruciating pain of the cruciatus curse.

“Haraldr,” Loki whispered, stroking a hand up and down Harry’s back. “Breathe, child.”

“Not a good experience, huh?” Tony said from the other side of Loki. “Hey, we’ve all been there, kid. Take your time.”

For some bizarre reason a lump formed in Harry’s throat and he had to swallow a fair few times to get rid of it. “What do you want from me? You already know he’s back,” Harry finally managed to whisper, glancing up at Natasha from under his fringe as he kept his head bowed.

Natasha’s expression was carefully neutral. “We need every detail you can give us, Harry. Describe every encounter you’ve had with him, because I have heard rumours that you’ve seen him before last year.”

“Fine,” Harry said, heart still pounding in his chest. “In my first year, Voldemort was possessing Quirrell, our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Dumbledore was hiding the philosopher’s stone at Hogwarts and Voldemort was trying to steal it, so we, that is Ron, Hermione and me, stopped him. I’m not actually quite sure how,” Harry added with a frown. “I kind of turned Quirrell to ash and then Voldemort fled as a wraith and I woke up in the hospital wing.”

Silence followed that stretched to almost half a minute.

“How old were you?” Sam finally asked.

“It was my first year, so I was eleven,” Harry said, glancing around the room, wondering why everyone was looking so shocked.

“Why did you have to stop him?” Bruce asked, adjusting the glasses on his nose. “Where was Dumbledore? Or other teachers? Or even older students?”

Harry shrugged. “Dumbledore was at the ministry, I think, and McGonagall basically told us to mind our own business, that the stone was protected.” Harry frowned, realizing something he’d never thought of before. The stone had been protected, because Quirrell and Voldemort hadn’t been able to decipher how to get the stone from the mirror. “We didn’t really think to talk to anyone else before we went to save the stone.”

“Let’s move on,” Natasha said decisively when it looked like more than one person wanted to speak up.

“In my second year, I met Voldemort again, sort of. His teenaged essence or something was trapped in a diary that Lucius Malfoy slipped to Ginny Weasley, who wrote in it the whole year to the point Voldemort possessed her and unleashed the basilisk, which petrified some students, including Hermione. Ginny got taken into the Chamber of Secrets, and since I’m a parselmouth, that’s someone who can talk to snakes, I could open the chamber and Ron and I followed her, with Lockhart, but he was useless. Ron got separated by a rockfall, and Tom Riddle, that’s Voldemort’s real name, was sucking the life out of Ginny and summoned the basilisk, but then Fawkes, Dumbledore’s phoenix showed up and the sorting hat gave me a sword that I stabbed the basilisk with through the roof of its mouth, but its fang stabbed through my arm,” at this point Harry raised the sleeve of his hoodie and showed off the round scars on both sides of his forearm, “but Fawkes cried on the wound and his tears have strong healing powers so I didn’t die, and then I used the basilisk fang to stab the diary and that destroyed Tom Riddle’s shade.”

Total. Silence. People stared at Harry in utter disbelief. Even Natasha’s lips were slightly parted, which for her was the equivalent of her entire mouth hanging open, Harry was sure.

Tony eventually cleared his throat. “So, all in favour of yanking Harry out of Hogwarts like yesterday raise your hand.”

More than a few hands went up, with Bucky being the first to do so while he looked at Harry as though he was genuinely scared Harry would drop dead then and there.

“What?” Harry looked around the room in confusion. Yes, having to fight a basilisk was bad, but Harry had managed it and he’d saved Ginny, so as far as he was concerned it wasn’t something to be so shocked about, especially not years after the fact.

“You were twelve,” Steve said while shaking his head in what might be some form of denial.

“Yes, Haraldr,” Thor said, his face scrunched up in obvious worry. “It is commendable that you slayed a basilisk and saved your friend, but it deeply worries me none of the adults around you that ought to look out for you were there to fight by your side.”

“It wasn’t a big deal,” Harry insisted, which earned him a snort from Tony and Clint both.

“Look, the kid isn’t going to understand why we’re upset without some serious therapy,” Clint said.

“I’ll schedule it at once,” Pepper said, picking up her phone and tapping it with quick fingers.

“So for now maybe just keep talking, Harry, and ignore all the adults and their weird reactions.” Clint gestured at Harry to go on while he leaned back in his seat.

“Okay.” Harry inwardly shook himself and cleared his throat. “In my third year I didn’t encounter Voldemort directly, but I did help free Sirius, who was innocent and he’d escaped Azkaban prison to catch Peter Pettigrew, who was hiding as Ron’s pet rat because he was the real traitor who’d sold me and my parents out to Voldemort. Pettigrew escaped, though, and Sirius and I almost got kissed by dementors, but I managed a Patronus charm at the last minute and drove them off. Pettigrew went to find Voldemort’s wraith and helped him back to Britain over the summer.”

“Dementors,” Loki said slowly, carefully. “You faced more than one of these soul-sucking beasts?”

Harry shrugged. “Yeah, a hundred or so. The ministry had stationed them around Hogwarts. But my Patronus worked so it was fine.”

Loki glanced at Tony. “Haraldr is not going back there, not ever again.” Tony smirked knowingly in response.

“You can’t do that,” Harry instantly objected, sitting up and glaring at his mother.

“Let’s move on,” Natasha said loudly, narrowing her gaze at Harry, Loki and Tony. “Harry, what happened next?”

Harry inhaled a shaky breath, trying hard to keep his temper under control. Him flying off the handle wouldn’t help anyone or anything right then. “Well, to make a very long story short, one of Voldemort’s Death Eaters, Barty Crouch Jr posed as Alastor Moody, our new Defence Against the Dark Arts professor and he slipped my name into the Goblet of Fire, so I had to participate in the TriWizard Tournament, whether I liked it or not. I had to fight a dragon to steal a golden egg, spend an hour underwater in the lake to save Ron and finally make it through a maze filled with magical creatures and stuff, but Cedric got to the cup at the same time so we both touched it, and it was a portkey that took us to the cemetery where Pettigrew killed Cedric right away and tied me up to a headstone and used my blood to resurrect Voldemort, who cursed me a bit but then I escaped with Cedric’s body by touching the cup again.” All of that Harry had said in pretty much a single breath, and he felt slightly lightheaded by the time he’d gotten all of that out. From across the coffee table Clint handed Harry a can of cola, which Harry gratefully accepted, quickly opening it and taking a huge gulp.

Natasha, in the meantime, waited patiently until Harry was done hydrating himself before she spoke again. “I have yet to find any information on how Voldemort managed to turn himself immortal. Harry, do you have any ideas?”

Harry blinked at Natasha, drawing a blank. “No, not really. Voldemort himself bragged to his followers that he’d gone further than anyone in some bad magic, so I’m guessing it’s that.”

“I have an idea,” Loki said, immediately drawing everyone’s attention. “What we pulled out of Haraldr’s scar was, in essence, a piece of Voldemort’s soul. At first, I thought perhaps his soul had been damaged when his own magic was returned to him when he tried to murder Haraldr. But splitting one’s soul and hiding a part away from it in a container would give one a very rudimentary form of immortality. The body could still be destroyed, of course, but the soul would not pass on, tied to the mortal plane as long as the soul container was intact.”

“The diary,” Tony guessed at once, proving once again his brain worked a lot faster than most people’s. “The shade of Tom Riddle was a piece of Voldemort’s soul.”

“Huh?” Harry leaned forward to look at Tony on the other side of his mother.

“Now what we have to figure out is how many of these containers he made,” Tony concluded, while everyone else was staring at him, trying very hard to mentally keep up with his extraordinary mind. “We destroy the containers, we destroy Voldemort.”

“Haraldr was a container used to keep his mortal enemy alive?” Thor demanded, his eyes briefly flashing with electricity.

“Wait, wait,” Harry said, suddenly lightheaded again. He’d had a piece of Voldemort’s soul inside of him? “Oh no,” Harry said, lips suddenly trembling while his throat became very tight. “Dumbledore knew.”

“What?” Both Loki and Clint said, while Bucky made a very undignified sound that sounded somewhat like a lion whose tail someone just stepped on.

“After the whole Chamber of Secrets thing, Dumbledore said that the night Voldemort tried to kill me he left something of himself behind in me or something and that’s why I was a parselmouth.” Harry looked at his mother with pleading eyes, wanting to be wrong about where his mind was taking this information so badly.

Loki picked up one of Harry’s trembling hands and squeezed it with both of his. “Dumbledore knew you housed Voldemort’s soul and made no effort to see it removed from you.”

“And we know the containers need to be destroyed to end Voldemort,” Tony helpfully added while giving Harry a sympathetic look. “So my guess, Dumbledore was counting on you to die one way or the other at some point in the future.”

Harry swallowed and swallowed against the sudden lump in his throat, but it wouldn’t go away.

“How do we find out if there are more containers?” Natasha asked, but Harry barely heard her because his ears were ringing.

“I can perform a spell in Britain, looking specifically for incomplete souls. I only need to find one container, which I can then easily use to find the rest,” Loki said, just as Harry’s vision was blacking out.

Harry wasn’t sure what had happened next, only that he suddenly found himself sitting on the couch in their private quarters, squashed between Thor and Bucky, with Steve and Clint occupying the other couch. Toy Story was playing on the TV and a warm blanket covered Harry, Bucky and his father.

Thor smiled at him. “Loki has gone to perform the spell to find the containers,” his father told him, and a huge weight fell off Harry’s shoulders, though he wasn’t sure why. “He expects to have destroyed any he finds within a day or two, and then we can come up with a plan to finish Voldemort once and for all.”

“He’ll be mortal,” Clint said matter-of-factly, gaze never leaving the TV screen. “Just put me in range and I’ll shoot an arrow through his eye.”

“And I’ll put a bullet through his other eye,” Bucky said with a dark look, though he quickly changed his expression to carefully neutral when Harry glanced at him. Leaning forward, Bucky picked up a plate from the coffee table and held it out to Harry. “Cupcake?”

Chapter Text

Number 19

The next day, Harry felt better, definitely like a weight had been lifted off his shoulders. His mother was actively searching for a way to destroy Voldemort and while a part of Harry was itching to involve himself in that search, another part, perhaps a larger part, was happy to let his mother, who knew more about magic than Harry could ever even imagine, take charge of that operation.

Harry was still suffering from a slight jetlag, though, so in the morning he stayed in their quarters, fooling around a little with the magic Loki had been teaching him and chatting with Jarvis. After a simple lunch of a turkey sandwich, Harry took a nap in his room, since his body was suddenly exhausted as though it was the middle of the night. Harry just loved time differences, really.

It was already near the end of the afternoon when Harry woke up. Rubbing a hand over his face and blinking rapidly, Harry strolled into their living room, only to realize at the last second he wasn’t alone.

Tony stood leaning against the opposite wall. Loki stood in front of Tony, no, smashed against Tony, with his mouth on Tony’s while his hand was lost somewhere in the front of Tony’s opened trousers. There were loud smacking noises as they snogged as if their lives depended on it, Loki’s other hand wound in Tony’s hair and Tony holding onto Loki’s leather jacket with tight fingers.

Harry stared, because he wasn’t sure what he was seeing. He’d never seen this before. One time, he’d walked in on Fred and Angelina snogging while leaning against the wall in the Quidditch dressing room after a match, when Harry had forgotten his gloves and gone back for them. But that had been different, because that had been a teenage boy and girl.

These were two men. One of which was Harry’s mother. Who had been, at one point, in a relationship with his brother when they’d made Harry. And who was now snogging Tony Stark in their living room while doing things in Tony Stark’s trousers.

Harry stared for a moment longer.

“Sir,” Jarvis eventually said, drawing Tony’s attention to the fact that they were not alone in the living room.

“Oh, hey, kid,” Tony said, while Loki quickly pulled away from him to look over his shoulder at Harry in surprise. “Sorry about that.”

“Er…” Harry blinked a few times, his cheeks slowly warming up until they felt like they were on fire, and then he fled their rooms entirely, because he had no clue what to say or how to act around two adults he’d just caught doing adult things.

Barefooted, and wearing rumpled sweatpants and a t-shirt, Harry wandered around the tower, hoping to find someone who had answers for him, because Harry was feeling very confused. Part of him hoped to find Thor, but another part of him wasn’t sure if his father even knew his mother did adult things with Tony, and would he be angry if he found out? Harry didn’t want his father and mother to fight because of something he’d said.

Harry checked the range to see if Clint was there, but it was empty. He checked the communal living room, but no one was there, either. Finally he made his way to the training rooms, where he found Natasha kicking the shit out of a punching bag.

Harry shuffled inside, not sure if she was the right person to talk to or not, but he felt that he had to talk to someone because his head was about to explode because of what he’d seen, or so it felt.

Natasha took one look at him and stopped her workout, reaching for a towel to wipe the sweat of her face. “You all right, kid?”

“I don’t know,” Harry told her honestly, and then he released a big sigh.

“I don’t bite,” Natasha said, with a tiny curve of her lips that made her look terribly amused somehow. “Try me.”

“I just saw my mother and Tony snogging and I don’t know if this is going to make my father angry and I don’t want them to fight because I told Thor about this but I also don’t want to keep this from him,” Harry rambled while giving Natasha a hopeless look.

“Deep breath,” Natasha said, just as Harry was feeling a little lightheaded again. “Thor already knows Loki and Tony are dating. Everyone knows, except apparently you.”

“Really?” Harry blinked, genuinely surprised. “They never told me. Since when?”

“Since right before they found you last summer.”

“Huh.” Harry felt as if suddenly the whole world realigned itself around him. “Wait, is that why Tony is always hanging around us?”

Natasha briefly ducked her head when she couldn’t hold back a real smile. When she looked up she appeared once again composed. “We really have to work on your awareness of the people around you because right now you’re taking your obliviousness to entirely new heights, never before seen by mankind.”

Feeling slightly insulted, Harry scoffed. “I’m not that bad. I’ve got lots on my mind.”

“Then it is even more important that you remain aware of the world around you instead of being distracted all the time.” Natasha curved an eyebrow and tilted her head. “I have a challenge for you, if you dare to accept it.”

At once, Harry’s curiosity was piqued. “Sure, what’s the challenge?”

Natasha’s eyes narrowed while she offered Harry a bit of a smug smirk. “Before I tell you the challenge, you must agree to the terms. If you don’t complete the challenge within the allotted time, you will owe me a favour.”

The hairs on the back of Harry’s neck stood up while a shiver ran across his back. Owing the Black Widow a favour was an intimidating thought. Still, he was a Gryffindor and wasn’t prone to backing off just because the going got tough. “All right. But if I do complete it, you owe me a favour.”

Natasha’s entire expression was caught somewhere between pride and amusement. “Fair enough. Here is your challenge. Before the end of your Christmas holidays, I want you to discover a secret from each of the Avengers.”

“A secret?” Harry asked dubiously.

“Something that is not common knowledge and they won’t readily share with others.”

“From the Avengers?” Something dawned on Harry and he swallowed. “That includes you.”

Natasha gave him a regal nod. “That includes me. Do you accept?”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry said with the kind of forced carelessness that desperately tried to hide how nervous he suddenly felt. Still, it was an interesting challenge and Harry did like a good challenge.

“Excellent. I look forward to collecting on your favour at some point in the future.” Natasha flipped her hair over her shoulder and turned her back to him while Harry sputtered about showing her he could win this easily.

Before Harry made it to the door of the gym, Natasha looked at him while she positioned herself in front of the punching bag again. “Harry, I understand it can be scary, to suddenly find yourself surrounded by a family when you’ve never really had one before.”

Harry stood in place with his hand on the door and glanced down, biting his lip.

“But know that your mother and father would do anything for you. Everyone here would, so don’t worry about people getting angry because of something you say or do.” Natasha shrugged and then raised her hands up front of her. “Everyone here wants you to feel comfortable enough to speak your mind, understand?”

“Yeah,” Harry whispered and gave Natasha a grateful smile. “I’m getting there.”

Natasha went back to kicking the crap out of the punching bag, and Harry left to go back to his room and find some shoes to wear.

Later, when they all sat down to a feast of takeaway Thai food in the communal living room, Tony briefly stopped behind Harry and patted his shoulders with both hands. “We didn’t spook you too much, did we, kid?”

“Nah,” Harry said, briefly smiling up at Tony. “I’d just woke up from a nap, I was barely awake anyway.”

“Good, because your mother was beating himself up about accidentally traumatizing your poor, innocent little mind,” Tony said, just as Loki joined them.

“What did you just say about me?” Loki asked with a frown, moving to sit down beside Harry.

“Nothing, dear. Good news, though, the kid’s fine!” Tony slapped Loki’s ass and quickly moved away, sporting a playful grin, and how the hell had Harry never realized these two were in a relationship because now that he was looking, really looking, it all seemed so obvious to him.

Natasha, who was sitting across the table from him and was following the drama carefully, looked at Harry and winked.

Chapter Text

Number 20

Agatha was a middle-aged woman with long, black hair, large glasses and features that reminded Harry simultaneously of Cho Chang and Parvati Patil.

The first thing Agatha did was ask Harry about his time with the Dursleys, but Harry clamped up at once, having no desire whatsoever to discuss his horrible, dead relatives with a complete stranger, so instead Agatha asked about his first year at Hogwarts. Agatha was a muggle, but Loki and Tony had apparently informed her magic was real and how Harry was a wizard, so Harry figured it was all right to talk to her about his first year attending a school of witchcraft and wizardry.

“Why did you feel you had to protect the stone, Harry?” Agatha asked, head tilted a little and a small, kind smile on her face, after Harry was done telling her about the time he, Ron and Hermione had gone after Quirrell to keep the Philosopher’s Stone safe.

“Er…” Harry shrugged, feeling rather awkward about answering a question like that. “Because no one else was, I guess?”

“But other people were protecting the stone,” Agatha pointed out. “Professor McGonagall assured you of this right before you went to protect it anyway. And she wasn’t lying, was she?”

“No, I guess not,” Harry said, remembering Quirrell hadn’t been able to get the stone from the mirror until Harry had accidentally pulled it out for him. “But someone had to stop Voldemort, and I had stopped him before.”

“But you didn’t go down the trapdoor to stop Voldemort. You went to stop Professor Snape.”

Harry opened and closed his mouth a few times, but he couldn’t find any words to form a coherent reply to that.

“Your roommates didn’t feel the need to protect the stone, did they?” Agatha raised a single eyebrow as if in challenge. “Why not?”

“They didn’t know about it,” Harry pointed out, almost wanting to roll his eyes at the obviousness of that answer. “And Neville actually tried to stop us, even though he’s really bad at magic and Hermione petrified him.”

“Why did Neville try to stop you, do you think?”

Harry blinked, trying to remember what Neville had said exactly. It had been a few years and it wasn’t something Harry ever spent a lot of time thinking about. “He didn’t want us to lose more points, since we’d already lost a lot of house points when we smuggled Hagrid’s dragon out of school.”

Agatha’s eyes widened for a moment as her mouth dropped open, but she quickly squeezed her eyes shut and licked her lips, obviously composing herself. “We’ll get to that later. Back to why you believed you needed to protect the stone. Do you believe Neville should have protected the stone?”

“No, of course not,” Harry said with a snort. He liked Neville, but anyone would have to admit Neville wasn’t very talented at magic, or at anything, really, aside from Herbology. Neville protecting anything was rather laughable.

Agatha smiled as if she knew something Harry didn’t. “So you wouldn’t expect Neville to face off against an adult criminal, but you do expect it of yourself when you were both just eleven years old?”

Frowning, Harry stared down at his knees. “Neville didn’t know any spells, he wouldn’t have made it very far.”

“And at eleven, did you know many spells, Harry?” Agatha asked reasonably. “If Quirrell had started casting spells at you, would you have been able to defend yourself properly at that age?”

“Er..” Harry was suddenly feeling rather baffled when he realized that in fact he hadn’t know many spells yet at that age. He hadn’t even learned the disarming charm until his second year. How on earth had he thought he could go up against a full-grown wizard? How on earth had they even made it that far through the challenges…oh.

Agatha waited patiently while Harry leaned back in his seat, mouth open in shock as something suddenly occurred to him. He hadn’t realized it at the time, but now that he was older and knew more magic, it suddenly made perfect sense.

“It was a set-up,” Harry whispered, more to himself than to Agatha. “It had to be, because I know now that there are dozens of ways to protect something with magic that should keep out a couple of first-years easily enough.”

Agatha nodded. “I agree that it sounds like someone wanted you to make it through those challenges.”

“Dumbledore,” Harry said while hanging his head. It always came back to Dumbledore, didn’t it? He’d known about the piece of Voldemort’s soul in Harry’s scar, and now it became clear to Harry that Dumbledore had somehow set him up the moment he’d set foot in Hogwarts, what with all the breadcrumbs Harry had followed all the way to his confrontation with Quirrell and Voldemort.

“Our time is up for today,” Agatha said, closing the notebook in her lap quietly. “But I want you to really think about why you felt the need to protect the stone, Harry, and we’ll talk about it some more during our next appointment, the day after tomorrow.”

“Thanks,” Harry said, a little awkwardly, as he left the conference room where Agatha received her Avenger clients.

Bucky was waiting for him in Harry’s living room with two steaming mugs of hot chocolate, topped with whipped cream. They sat side by side on the couch, sipping their drinks. For a while, neither spoke, just enjoyed their sweet treats, until finally Bucky turned towards Harry. “You okay?”

Harry shrugged. “I guess. It was weird, mostly.”

“Weird how?”

“Weird, because she kept hammering on the same subject,” Harry said, glancing at Bucky, wondering if Bucky had similar experiences with their shared therapist.

Turns out, Bucky did. “Yeah, she gets like that, and usually about stuff you don’t want to talk about.”

“Yeah, absolutely,” Harry agreed, remembering how much Agatha had wanted Harry to talk about his life with the Dursleys.

“But usually it’s for a good reason,” Bucky continued, much to Harry’s surprise. Bucky glanced at Harry and gave him an uncertain smile. “At least that’s how it is for me. Whenever I tell her the things she wants to hear, I feel better afterwards.”

“Better how?” Harry asked, wondering why telling a stranger about the Dursleys would help him.

Bucky stared straight ahead for a few moments before draining his mug and leaning back in the couch with a sigh. “Because before telling her, I’m the only one who knows and the only one who has to deal with it. But afterwards, the load is shared, if that makes sense.”

That did make sense, surprisingly. “Huh. Okay.” Harry gave Bucky a grateful smile and plucked the empty mug out of his metal hand to make them some more hot chocolate.

During his next appointment with Agatha, when she asked about his life at the Dursleys, Harry inhaled a deep, shaky breath and told her about the cupboard under the stairs. Agatha, to her credit, didn’t react in shock or pity or anything like that, but just let Harry talk while she listened with an attentive look on her face.

“How do you feel about having spent so many years in a storage closet, Harry?” Agatha asked, after Harry was done talking and sipped his can of cola. Agatha had a huge, steaming mug of coffee in front of her which she mostly ignored in favour of writing notes in her notebook.

“It wasn’t that bad,” Harry said with a shrug, glancing to the side and sipping his soda again.

“And what would you say if someone else told you they’d been made to sleep in a storage closet while there was a spare bedroom available in the house.”

“Like who?” Harry asked suspiciously.

“Someone like your friends Ron or Hermione, or Neville,” Agatha said with an even voice.

Harry considered that. The thought of Ron or Hermione or Neville sleeping in a cupboard under the stairs was a strange one, because for some reason it didn’t sit well with Harry.

“I don’t know,” he said eventually, because for reasons that weren’t clear to him, he didn’t want to admit that it would be wrong.

“I think you do know,” Agatha said quietly, but with a kind smile. “Try a little harder now, Harry.”

Harry swallowed. “I guess it wouldn’t be right if that happened to them.”

“Hm.” Agatha paused, but Harry already had a suspicion what she was going to say next. “So if it isn’t right for your friends, then why wasn’t it bad for you?”

“It doesn’t matter though,” Harry said, because somehow thinking of an answer to those questions felt like poking something sharp in his chest and Harry wanted to avoid that feeling with all his might. “They’re dead and I’m never going back there.”

“You’re right in that they’re gone and you’re living here now,” Agatha said, slowly turning a page in her notebook and scribbling something down again. “But this clearly bothers you to the point you’d rather not talk about it. Why is that?”

“Because it was wrong, all right?” Harry snapped, spilling cola all over his hand as he all but slammed the can onto the little side-table next to his chair. “I knew it was wrong, but no one cared. I tried telling people, but the Dursleys would lie about it and call me a criminal and pretend I had to go to a school for juvenile delinquents, and no one ever helped me.”

“Thank you for telling me, Harry,” Agatha said, while Harry desperately tried to catch his breath, his heart racing in his chest. “I understand this is hard to talk about, but you’re very brave for sharing it with me. Let’s leave it here and we’ll continue in two days.”

Bucky was waiting for him again, mugs of hot chocolate at the ready. Harry was utterly grateful Bucky didn’t expect him to talk, just sat with him on the couch for as long as Harry wanted.

“Ugh,” Harry said eventually after they’d finished their drinks. “I’m not sure I feel better.”

“It might take a while,” Bucky offered. “You’ve got to get used to it before that raw feeling goes away.”

Harry glanced at him. “Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Bucky said with a firm nod.

Harry accepted that and figured he could try it a few more times, sharing personal stuff with Agatha, to see if it did help him feel better in the long run. “Want to watch another Pixar movie?” After Tony had made fun of them a time or two whenever he made Pixar references and both Harry and Bucky gave him confused looks, they’d recently decided, with the help of Jarvis, to just watch all of them in order.

“Sure,” Bucky said, getting comfortable on the couch. “Where were we, Jarvis?”

The TV turned on. “Starting Finding Nemo,” Jarvis said, and Harry sighed and focussed on the screen, while Bucky pulled a blanket off the back of the couch and spread it across their laps. If anything, Harry’s therapy sessions always ended with Bucky spending time with him and that alone pretty much made them worth it as far as Harry was concerned.

Chapter Text

Number 21

Harry was in a panic.

Christmas was in two days and he didn’t have any gifts for anyone.

“Mr Potter, let me assure you no one expects you to buy them gifts,” Jarvis told him, not for the first time. “Though perhaps making a Christmas card for the others would be appreciated.”

Harry sighed and rubbed his hands across his face, glasses almost falling off. He quickly pushed them back on his nose and sighed again. Making Christmas cards? No. Harry had no talents for arts and crafts, at least not when it had been expected of him back in primary school and he hadn’t done anything artsy since. The only thing he was good at, besides certain aspects of magic, was cleaning and cooking for the Dursleys.

He could offer coupons to everyone, good for Harry vacuuming their rooms or something. Or he could do as Bucky and bake some treats.

Wait.

Harry looked up, eyes widening. He could do as Bucky and bake some treats. Harry had baked biscuits at the Dursleys numerous times. “Jarvis,” Harry said urgently, looking up at the nearest camera like he always did when talking to the faceless AI. “Would it be appreciated, do you think, if I baked people biscuits?”

“I believe so,” Jarvis said, obviously warming to the subject. “It is indeed tradition to share homemade baked goods amongst your loved ones, and Christmas cookies appear to be a favourite thing to make. Shall I look up a few recipes and order the necessary ingredients? And perhaps add some festive cookie jars to gift them in? And some wrapping paper?”

“Yes, yes, and yes!” Harry jumped up from the couch and picked up the nearest tablet where Jarvis conveniently displayed multiple recipes for Harry to choose from.

There were many recipes, some very simple, and some that needed an advanced degree in frosting by the looks of it. Harry selected three recipes. Gingerbread cookies, because Jarvis assured him they were traditional and the frosting didn’t seem too complicated. Peppermint Pattie-stuffed chocolate cookies, because they frankly looked delicious and weren’t even that difficult to make. And a simple peanut butter chocolate chip cookie.

Jarvis got all the ingredients delivered within the hour, and by that time Harry had gathered all the tools he needed. A sturdy stand mixer he’d borrowed from the main kitchen, several cookie sheets, mixing bowls and spatulas.

Following the recipes carefully, Harry got started at once and before long had a big batch of peanut butter chocolate chip cookies in the oven while he started on the gingerbread cookies. Jarvis turned on some classic Christmas music to add to the mood and Harry hummed along as he took out the first batch of cookies, placed them on several cooling racks and got the next batch baking. Then he tackled the Peppermint Pattie-stuffed chocolate cookies, which were a little more involved but still easy enough to make.

By that time a few big boxes of various Christmasy cookie jars were delivered, together with a pile of cards, a bag of bows and several rolls of wrapping paper, and Harry started organizing how many jars he needed for who.

“Something smells delicious,” Thor said as he entered their living room, returning from his daily workout.

“No!” Harry looked up in alarm from a new batch of cookies he was mixing. “You can’t have any and you can’t even be here. It’s for Christmas and it’s supposed to be a surprise.”

Thor looked around at the living room covered in cookie jars and the kitchen covered in cooling racks piled with cookies and gave Harry a serious look. “I swear, Haraldr, I shall not speak a word of this.” And with that Thor disappeared into his bedroom to take a shower.

Less than ten minutes later Jarvis alerted him to a visitor standing outside their door. “Mr Barnes requests entrance.”

“Nope. Tell him I’m busy,” Harry said, and he was busy trying to frost gingerbread cookies with a piping bag.

“Mr Barnes requests you give him the recipe of whatever it is you’re baking,” Jarvis said with obvious amusement in his voice.

“Tell him after Christmas.” This whole piping thing was much harder than it looked, Harry quickly found out. No wonder Bucky’s cupcakes always looked like they were covered in turds.

“Mr Barnes wants you to know those terms are acceptable and he shall see you at dinner.”

Harry spent the whole afternoon baking and frosting and filling cookie jars. He took a quick break for a joint dinner with the others, but afterwards he went right back at it. The next day was spent wrapping all the cookie jars, after Jarvis showed him a few very helpful YouTube videos on how one should wrap presents and have them look at least somewhat presentable. And later that night, when the communal living room was empty, Harry snuck all his presents under the big tree decorated with Avengers ornaments and Christmas lights in red and gold. By the looks of it, he was the last one to do so because there were dozens and dozens of presents already there.

And then Christmas arrived and Tony got Jarvis to wake everyone up before the crack of dawn, ordering them into the living room where a simple breakfast buffet waited for them with coffee, tea and hot chocolate and easy to eat sandwiches, and scones filled with fried eggs and ham, croissants and sausage rolls.

Everyone shuffled inside still in their pyjamas, Harry included since Jarvis had made sure he had appropriate Christmas pyjamas just a few days earlier, and they filled plates and mugs before sitting in a loose circle around the tree, yawning and rubbing their eyes.

Opening presents with so many people was slightly chaotic, especially since Tony had put himself in charge and had a habit of randomly handing our gifts three or four at a time, so everyone was unwrapping gifts and thanking each other at the same time.

Still, Harry enjoyed the whole thing immensely and didn’t think he’d ever had this good of a Christmas before, least of all because he spent it with his actual parents for the first time ever. Thor and Loki sat on either side of him and more than once Harry glanced at them in slight disbelief. Barely six months ago he hadn’t known that he had living parents who genuinely loved him and now look at him. Those thoughts filled Harry with warmth even more so than the delicious hot chocolate did.

Harry received several magical books from his mother and a small sword from his father, with the promise to start teaching him how to use it as soon as possible. Harry actually looked forward to that because sword fighting seemed like a really cool thing to learn.

From the others he got an assortment of things, from new clothes courtesy of Pepper to gift cards from Steve and some books from Bruce. Tony, of course, gave him the latest Stark phone which had been prepped to work around magic, with a charger that worked on solar power.

Bucky had baked everyone cupcakes, gifting them in special Christmas cupcake containers, which Harry hadn’t even known existed. Still, he looked forward to eating them because Bucky really was a talented baker.

“I’m very surprised by this gift,” Thor proclaimed loudly when he opened Harry’s gift to him. “I had no idea you would gift me with homemade baked goods, Haraldr.” And then he winked at Harry, and Harry simultaneously laughed while shaking his head. Subtle, his father was not.

Harry’s cookie jars went over well and people thanked him for his effort and Clint and Sam and Tony all immediately tried a few of the cookies, not caring that the gingerbread men looked like they had vomit running down their bodies, thanks to Harry’s minimal talents in frosting.

“These are the best,” Clint announced, holding up a peppermint pattie-stuffed chocolate cookie. “Seriously, from now on you can bake these for me for any special occasion that requires gifts and I’ll be completely happy.”

Bucky, who’d been keeping Harry’s gift to him on his lap, guarding it with his metal arm, tentatively opened up his cookie jar and fished out a peppermint pattie-stuffed chocolate cookie. He took a careful bite, chewed for a moment and then his eyes widened and he stared at Harry in amazement before taking a bigger bite.

For some reason this made Harry’s cheeks heat up and he ducked his head, suddenly feeling all sorts of shy, which was really weird, but then again, he’d never experienced a Christmas morning like this so who even knew how he was supposed to feel.

When everyone was just about done with opening presents, and all seemed to appreciate Harry’s efforts and his cookies, Harry looked up at the nearest camera and offered it a quick thumbs-up.

In reply, Jarvis flashed a smiley face on the screen of Harry’s new phone.

Chapter Text

Number 22

“You want in on the next round?” Bucky called from where he sat on the couch, playing Mario Kart with Steve, Sam and Thor.

“Sure,” Harry said and he got up from his seat at the dining table in the communal living room.

“We can team up, kid,” Clint said, leaning back in his chair on the other side of the table, tipping it backwards as far as he could without falling over.

“All right,” Harry said with an easy shrug. He’d happily team up with Clint, since the man was much better at Mario Kart than Harry was. Harry had just been finishing up his diary that Agatha had requested he start keeping, as a way for him to work through things that happened to him on a day to day basis, but also to try to help him describe some of the more traumatic events of his life that Harry usually still had trouble putting into spoken words.

Agatha had also arranged with Tony that she would videocall Harry on his phone once a week so they could continue their sessions while Harry was at Hogwarts. Harry didn’t mind, not really. Yes, the sessions with Agatha always left him feeling raw and vulnerable and sometimes almost irrationally angry, but they also gave him a great sense of liberation. Somehow sharing all your troubles, big and small, with a neutral third party who didn’t judge you and just wanted to help you process all of it was really quite helpful, even if it didn’t always seem like that.

It was the day before New Year’s and the holiday was slowly but surely coming to an end, much to Harry’s disappointment. Loki had hinted several times, and downright asked once, for Harry to stay with them in New York, but Harry really did want to go back to Hogwarts. He loved the castle and his friends and the student life he had there, even if he knew he would miss his family and friends in New York more and more the better he got to know them every time he spent time in Avengers Tower.

Of course, there was one person who apparently didn’t even believe in holidays of any sort for his students, and that was Snape. Naturally, he’d assigned them all homework, the only professor to do so for the winter holidays.

Harry sighed. His potions grades were mediocre at best so he really couldn’t afford to mess up the essay he was expected to write. He’d best make sure he’d finished it properly and hadn’t forgotten anything. Shuffling through his pile of paperwork, Harry picked up his dad’s hammer to move it, since Thor had the habit of putting it on the first surface he could find without a care in the world whenever he entered a room, no matter that happened to be right on top of his son’s homework.

There was a loud crash from across the dining table as Clint fell backwards, chair and all.

“What the fuck!” Clint yelled as he quickly jumped to his feet. “Harry!”

Harry stood frozen, hammer in one hand, potions essay in the other, unsure if he’d done something wrong.

Of course, Clint’s loud response had drawn the attention of everyone in the room, because there came a loud and overly enthused “Son!” from the living room area not soon after.

Thor was at Harry’s side in an instant, a bright smile lighting up his whole face as he stared down at Harry with obvious pride written across every inch of him. “Son!”

“Dad,” Harry replied with a dubious smile, still not sure what was happening. “Could you maybe not leave your hammer on my potions essays again? If it smudges the ink, Snape will deduct points. Well, more points than usual.”

“Son!” Thor said again, now beaming at Harry in a way that Harry had never seen before, and then he wrapped his huge arms around Harry, hammer and essay and all.

The elevator opened to release a dishevelled looking Tony and a pale, disbelieving Loki. “Jarvis said something had happened,” Tony said, quickly glancing around the room to figure out what it could possibly be.

“Loki, look!” Thor stepped back to reveal a very confused Harry, who looked up at his mother with pleading eyes, hoping that someone might explain what on earth was happening.

“I’ll be damned,” Tony said with a crooked grin as he crossed his arms and stepped up to Clint. “It’s got to be the DNA, right?”

“They do share DNA, yeah,” Clint said, as if he hadn’t thought of that before. “That might be it.”

“Whut?” Harry managed to croak, while he looked between Tony and Clint with wide eyes.

“Nice hammer you got there. Been lifting it often?” Tony asked with a tilt of his head, grin still firmly in place.

“Whenever Dad leaves it lying about and I need to move it,” Harry said, unsure why anyone would be interested in this topic.

“Jarvis, you sly dog,” Tony said, winking up at the ceiling. “You’ve been keeping secrets from us.”

“I merely didn’t want to ruin the surprise,” Jarvis said without a hint of remorse.

Loki, much to Harry’s added confusion, didn’t seem all that excited about whatever was happening. Loki sniffed and straightened himself up to his full height while giving Thor a look of utmost supremacy. Or perhaps it was merely a murderous look. It was hard to tell with Loki sometimes.

“Obviously Haraldr can lift your hammer,” Loki said in a tone that suggested he found the topic utterly droll. “He is your son.”

Something came over Thor, something soft and understanding, and he all but lifted Harry up as he closed the space between them and Loki, so he could pull his brother in a tight hug. “You forget, Loki,” Thor whispered as he held them both as close as he could. “That Haraldr is half yours. And yet he can still raise Mjolnir. That can’t all be me.”

Loki stilled in Thor’s arms before he released a shuddering sigh and relaxed against his brother, head leaning on Thor’s shoulder. And Harry stood between his parents, hammer clutched in his hand, his potions essay a crumbled mess, and he wondered if his parents had suddenly gone utterly insane.

“Can someone please explain what is going on?” Bucky yelled from the couch. “I’m so confused.”

That made two of them, Harry thought, even if he did enjoy the impromptu family hug.

Chapter Text

Number 23

“Jesus, fuck,” Bucky groaned, face buried in his flesh hand while his metal hand gripped several moist tissues. “That should be illegal.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed in a hoarse voice. “Or at least come with some sort of warning.” Harry squeezed his eyes shut while rubbing a tissue over his raw, dripping nose. In his lap lay a collection of about ten used tissues, all wet and crumpled.

They had just watched the first ten minutes of Pixar’s Up.

It had started out fine. A fun introduction between two kids who went on to become friends who ended up married and lived their lives. Such a simple story, yet told in such a way that both Harry and Bucky had completely lost their shit, pretty much, and ended up bawling their eyes out sitting side by side on the couch while Jarvis tactically paused the movie.

It was December 31st and early that morning the Avengers had announced they had a mission but would probably be home in time to celebrate New Year’s at the tower. And since Harry and Bucky were still ploughing their way through the whole list of Pixar movies, they decided to have a lazy day on the couch together and binge watch what they could before the rest returned.

Harry figured he had earned a day of lazing about after he’d basically discovered that only yesterday he’d pulled the Norse version of Excalibur out of a rock. Or something. Harry still wasn’t entirely sure what it all meant and he preferred not to think about it for a good long while.

“I assure you that the rest of the movie is just a fun adventure between the older gentleman, a young boy and an assortment of talking dogs,” Jarvis said when both Harry and Bucky had regained most of their composure.

Inhaling a deep breath, Harry got up to refill their mugs with hot chocolate and once they were both sipping their beverages, box of tissues placed strategically between them, just in case, Jarvis restarted the movie.

They did enjoy the rest of the movie without any further breakdowns, and they followed it up with Brave, which was also a pleasant viewing experience. They decided to skip any of the Cars and Toy Story sequels for now, since they wanted to watch as many original titles as they could before Harry had to return to Hogwarts in three days’ time.

Jarvis ordered them Italian subs for lunch, which they devoured while watching the beginning of Inside Out, which also seemed to be an exciting adventure without any emotional boobytraps.

And then Bing Bong died.

“Motherfucker!” Bucky sat hunched over, face buried in a whole wad of tissues.

Harry was desperately trying to inhale breath after breath as tears streamed down his face while wondering why the hell some elephant-dolphin cartoon character affected him that much while he’d bloody well faced Lord Voldemort multiple times and walked away without a single tear shed.

This time Bucky went to refill their hot cocoas.

The rest of Inside Out was an interesting story with a rather profound message about happiness and sadness that stuck with Harry in ways he couldn’t yet completely understand, but which he was sure he’d be thinking about for days to come.

The Good Dinosaur was so-so, a bit boring in places. So much so that both Harry and Bucky may have taken a powernap while the movie played.

For dinner Jarvis ordered them some amazing New York pizza, and they devoured plenty of slices between them while starting on Coco. Just as they finished their food and were halfway through the movie, Tony burst through the door, closely followed by Harry’s parents and the rest of the Avengers.

“Ding dong, the witch is dead!” Tony crowed as he stopped right in front of Harry and dipped down in an elaborate bow, arm swinging down in front of him. “You’re welcome!”

“What?” Harry looked from Tony to his grinning parents. “What witch?”

“We have slain your enemy, Haraldr,” Thor said as he stepped around Tony to give Harry’s shoulder a comforting squeeze. “And your adoptive parents have been avenged.”

Slowly Harry rose to his feet, feeling a little lightheaded because it sounded like Thor just said that they’d killed Voldemort.

“Easy,” Loki said, and he was by Harry’s side in an instant as he must have noticed Harry was getting a little woozy. “Voldemort is dead. I have slain him myself in your name.”

“Poked him right in the back with a sword, went straight through his heart,” Tony agreed with a proud smile directed at Loki.

Clint gave Loki the stink-eye. “Yeah, he got to the bastard before I could even load my bow.”

Natasha patted Clint on the shoulder. “You still got to shoot a few other wizards.”

“Through the shoulder, just so they dropped their wands,” Clint said with a disappointed sigh. “After that they were pretty much defenceless.”

“Aye,” Thor agreed with a solemn nod. “Loki defeated the real enemy. I did get to smite some of the enemy’s servants.”

Steve smiled as he looked between everyone, his uniform pristine, his shield shiny, as though he hadn’t seen any battle at all. “Yeah, as it turns out those wizards are nothing without their wands. We were able to round them up real quick.”

“And now they’ll be spending some time in the Raft,” Natasha agreed with a smirk.

“Voldemort is dead? Really dead?” Harry’s ears were ringing and much to his horror his bottom lip started trembling and his eyes filled with tears, which should be impossible because he was sure he’d already shed all the tears he could possible hold during the day.

It was Bucky who stepped up to Harry and pulled him into a hug right before Harry lost his control and loud, almost primal sobs took over his shaking body.

“Haraldr?” Loki’s voice was laced with concern as he placed a careful hand on Harry’s shoulder.

Before that morning, Harry might have been embarrassed and deeply ashamed to fall apart in Bucky’s arms, to have the assassin witness his tears, but after their mutual Pixar breakdowns Harry didn’t want anyone else in the world there to see him through this emotional episode.

“I do not understand.” Thor said in what seemed to be genuine confusion. “We thought you would be happy, Haraldr.”

Bucky looked between Loki and Thor with narrowed eyes. “It is perfectly normal to feel a little sadness with your happiness, all right?”

“Ah,” Tony said with a grin and a knowing nod. “Been continuing your Pixar marathon?”

“I still do not understand,” Thor said while looking at everyone in the room with raised eyebrows.

Bucky released a deep, deep sigh, as if only now realizing he was surrounded by people with the emotional abilities of the average duck. “Jarvis, start Inside Out.” Arms still firmly wrapped around Harry, Bucky led him back to the couch while the rest found their own seats around the room. The moment Jarvis started the movie, Bucky side-eyed a ceiling camera and whispered, “Just maybe skip the part with Bing Bong.”

People called out food orders to Jarvis while Clint got some beers and sodas and everyone settled in to wind down from their eventful day.

And Harry cried for a few minutes more while he leaned against Bucky’s broad chest, even when he wasn’t sure why he was crying in the first place. He was happy Voldemort was dead, really, really happy. But as Harry had learned that day, sometimes you could be happy and sad at the same time, and that was okay, too.

Chapter Text

Number 24

After they all watched Inside Out and everyone was fed and watered, Tony urged them all to go change and freshen up for their New Year’s celebration. It wasn’t anything more than a gathering of the Avengers and their usual entourage in the communal living room, but it was still a real New Year’s party of sorts.

Harry enjoyed the impromptu party, and he chatted with Bucky and Steve, and Darcy and Pepper, and they turned on the big screen TV to watch a ball drop, though Harry honestly had no clue what that was all about. He did get lots of kisses the moment the clock struck midnight, more than he’d ever had before, from all the ladies, even Natasha, and also from his mother and father, and Tony also gave him a scratchy kiss on his cheek while wishing him a happy new year.

Bucky basically retreated to the shadows the moment all the kissing started, eying everyone who even looked like they wanted to step closer to him with obvious suspicion. No one but Steve did, anyway, and Steve was allowed to briefly pull Bucky in a one-armed hug, but that was all Bucky was apparently willing to put up with.

By the time Harry was kissed so much his whole face felt like it might burst into flames, Bucky looked a little more at ease again and Harry walked up to him.

“Happy new year,” Harry said as he stood beside Bucky, back to the wall.

“Happy new year,” Bucky replied with a small smile aimed just at Harry before going back to glaring at everyone else.

And somehow that brief exchange made Harry’s face heat up just as much as all the previous kisses had done.

Harry fell into bed an hour later, exhausted and happy and sad and all manner of other things that were still flying through his head ever since the Avengers had given him the news Voldemort was no more. Sleep did come, thankfully, but Harry’s dreams were strange and eerie. More than once Voldemort’s serpentine face invaded Harry’s thoughts, proclaiming that all had been a lie and that Loki and Thor and Bucky and Tony were dead, slain by Voldemort’s killing curses. Harry’s sleep was fitful and restless and when he woke with a start at some point during the night there was a woman sitting on the edge of his bed, her soft hand placed gently on his forehead.

“Sshh,” the woman said. She was very pretty and dressed in a luxurious blue dress while her blond hair was long and partially braided. “Fear not, Haraldr.”

“Who are you?” Harry scrambled away from the woman, his heart hammering in his chest. “Jarvis!”

No reply followed from Harry’s friend and guardian, much to Harry’s silent horror. Was he still dreaming? Was this just an illusion brought on by the emotional day he’d had?

“Your invisible friend cannot see or hear us,” the woman said, looking at Harry with a tilt of her head while giving him a warm smile. “My name is Frigga.”

Harry released a shaky breath. He knew that name, had heard it quite a few times when his mother and father discussed their own family. This was his grandmother. “Are you here to take me away?” Harry said, breath catching in his throat at the idea of someone much more powerful than himself and even Loki and Thor coming to kidnap him again like they’d done when he’d just been a baby.

Frigga sighed and it was an utterly sad sound. “I am truly sorry for what Odin did to you and your parents. He hid his actions so well that even I was blind to them, and I see with more than just my eyes. It wasn’t until your reunion with your mother and father that I became aware of your existence.”

“That wasn’t a no,” Harry couldn’t help but point out while he glared at her.

Frigga chuckled and gave him a very fond look. “Then let me be clear about this once and for all, Haraldr. I have no intention of separating you from your parents, now or in the future.”

Harry relaxed just a bit. From what he understood from the stories of Thor and Loki, Frigga was a kind and honest woman, not to mention very wise and powerful. If she gave her word she wasn’t about to kidnap him, Harry was willing to believe her. “All right. Thank you. Why are you here?”

“I wanted to get to know my grandson,” Frigga said, reaching out a hand as if to touch him but drawing it back when it became apparent Harry wasn’t quite willing just yet to be touched. “You do look like both Loki and Thor.” Frigga sighed and it sounded both resigned yet oddly happy. “Loki never did know when a prank had gone too far. But even I never would have guessed he would one day take it this far.”

Harry shrugged, not sure what to say to that. He understood all too well that people found his conception strange and off-putting. Harry himself found his own beginnings strange and off-putting, no matter that nowadays he genuinely loved his mother and father and was grateful for having them in his life.

“But no matter how you came to be, child, I am very glad to meet you,” Frigga said, looking the picture of kindness again. “I have a gift for you.” Frigga made a quick movement with her hand and at once a beautiful blooming red rose the size of a snitch lay on her hand, carved from what seemed to be some sort of gemstone. She handed it gently to a hesitant Harry. “Hold this gem and say my name and we’ll be able to speak no matter where you are.”

Harry carefully held the gem in his hand while admiring its many facets. “From anywhere?”

“Yes,” Frigga said quickly. “If you are ever in trouble and need help, do not hesitate to contact me.”

“Sure,” Harry said agreeably. “But the Avengers killed my arch-nemesis earlier today, so I don’t think I’ll be in much danger anymore.”

Frigga’s look was both resigned and just a bit exasperated. “Perhaps your mortal enemy has been slain. But you are of Asgard, a member of the royal family, and you have many powerful enemies, child, that you may not yet know of.”

Harry blinked at her and swallowed against his suddenly dry throat. He’d honestly only ever been worried about Voldemort, and now he learned that Voldemort had only been the first act, and that apparently there were many more enemy acts to follow.

“Worry not, Haraldr,” Frigga quickly said, apparently noticing Harry’s instant alarm. “Your parents will train you well, and I insist you call me at least once a week so I can teach you a few things myself.”

Harry considered this while he stared at his grandmother. “Like what?” he asked, unable to deny his curiosity. “Loki’s already teaching me magic, and Thor got me a sword so I can learn how to fight with it.”

Frigga smiled while her eyes narrowed in amusement. “And I am sure my sons will teach you all they know. But I know a few things they don’t, and I would be happy to share those with you.”

Harry slowly nodded, figuring that talking to his grandmother once a week wouldn’t hurt, especially if she wanted to teach him things that would ultimately help to keep him and his loved ones safe. “Yeah, alright, I’ll call once a week.”

“Thank you, Haraldr.” Frigga sat up a little, brushing a quick hand down her skirts. “I will talk with Odin and convince him to let go of his silly notions about you so that some day soon you may visit Asgard for yourself.”

Harry shrugged, not wanting to show how much Asgard intrigued him. Just the idea of visiting an alien world somewhere deep in space was amazing, but that it was his parents’ home made it all the more interesting and Harry would someday like to visit it, even if he didn’t think he’d ever want to meet Odin. He didn’t think he’d ever be able to forgive his grandfather for dumping him on earth where he’d eventually ended up in the Dursleys’ cupboard when he had perfectly loving parents who wanted him in Asgard.

“Do call me soon, child,” Frigga said as she got up. “I look forward to our upcoming lessons.”

“Thanks,” Harry whispered, and before he could say another thing she was gone, just like that. Harry sagged against the headboard, clutching the rose to his chest.

“Mr Potter, are you all right?” Jarvis asked at once, sounding all sorts of worried.

Harry had his eyes closed but managed a nod. Before he could speak, however, his door flew open and Loki rushed inside.

“Jarvis alerted me that he lost time in your room and that it seems someone may have visited you without his knowledge,” Loki rambled as he looked Harry over top to bottom, one hand outstretched, probably to cast some diagnostic spells. Then he noticed the rose in Harry’s hand and he released a long sigh. “Frigga, of course.”

Harry blinked up at his mother. “She seemed nice. She said I could call her once a week and she’d teach me stuff.”

Loki sat down on the bed, right in the spot his mother had occupied not even a few minutes earlier. “Frigga is nice, generally, and I’m sure she will enjoy teaching you.” Loki narrowed his eyes for a moment while giving Harry a stern look. “Just promise me, Haraldr, that you will never go to Asgard without me or Thor present. Frigga is far too forgiving when it comes to Odin, and she is blind to his faults.”

Harry gave his mother a quick nod. “I promise. I don’t want to meet him.”

“Good.” Loki got up and brushed a quick kiss against Harry’s forehead. “Sleep well, son.”

“Night, Mum,” Harry whispered as he burrowed under his blankets. As the door closed behind Loki, Harry added, “Thanks, Jarvis, for looking out for me.”

“It is my pleasure,” Jarvis replied in a softer voice than usual.

Harry clutched the rose to his chest as he turned on his side. Sleep came fairly quickly and no more creepy dreams bothered Harry that night. Instead he dreamed of a sunny garden full of roses where his grandmother sat, giving him a warm and welcoming smile.

Chapter Text

Number 25

Harry was terrified.

It was the morning of his last day in New York and he was supposed to be packing since they would fly to Britain that evening. Harry really wasn’t looking forward to the jetlag he’d undoubtedly end up with the first few days back in Britain’s time zone.

Harry had just remembered the bet he’d made with Natasha, about finding out a secret from each of the Avengers. Harry would love to say he’d spent the entire holidays observing everyone around him carefully to discover their innermost mysteries, but if he did that, Harry would be lying.

Harry had become a bit more observant about his surroundings and the people in his life. But he had completely forgotten their bet and now he was screwed.

“Jarvis, please help,” Harry pleaded for the third time. If anyone knew secrets from all the Avengers it was the AI who observed them all around the clock.

“I cannot divulge private information about the inhabitants of this tower, Mr Potter,” Jarvis explained, not unkindly. Then his voice took on a more reprimanding tone. “Besides, the spirit of your wager with Ms Romanoff was that you would discover these secrets on your own, wasn’t it?”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed as he leaned against the kitchen counter, head thrown back while he stared up at the ceiling in despair. “I suppose. Though she never explicitly said I couldn’t ask for help.” Harry slowly tilted his head forward again, realizing that he could ask for help because that wasn’t against the rules, no matter what Jarvis thought.

And Harry happened to be very good friends with someone who, at one point at least, was as good of a covert agent as Natasha.

Now the question was if Bucky would be willing to help Harry when it was Harry who should have been doing the work himself over the past two weeks. Harry narrowed his eyes and a slow smile spread across his face. Bucky might not be willing immediately, but Harry knew some of his weak spots.

“Jarvis, please ask Bucky to come to my room in 45 minutes,” Harry said as he opened cupboard after cupboard and finally the fridge. He was glad to see he still had plenty of flour, sugar, butter, chocolate chips and peanut butter left over from his foray in creating edible Christmas gifts that he could whip up a few batches of fresh cookies, which is what he did. He knew the recipe by heart by now, and the large stand mixer which Harry had commandeered from the communal kitchen was still sitting on the kitchen counter in their quarters, so Harry had a few batches ready to go into the oven in under ten minutes

By the time the cookies had cooled and the kettle had boiled, there was a knock on the door and Bucky entered, sniffing the air visibly while a small smile appeared on his face.

“Tea?” Harry asked in his most innocent voice, pouring them both a mug while a plate loaded with cookies sat in the middle of the kitchen table. “I made fresh cookies. They’re chocolate chip and peanut butter ones.”

Bucky slowly moved to the table, face displaying a certain kind of wariness, as though he now realized more might be going on than simple tea and biscuits between friends. Still, Bucky sat down at the table and accepted a mug of steaming tea with a slow nod.

“Have a cookie!” Harry chirped, shoving a warm cookie in Bucky’s direction.

Bucky eyed the cookie for a moment, as though worried it might be poisoned before giving a shrug and taking a huge bite out of it.

“So,” Harry said while clearing his throat. Now that he had Bucky here and the man seemed to appreciate Harry’s baking, Harry wasn’t actually sure how to proceed. He hadn’t though this far ahead, what would come after the offer of baked goods was accepted.

Bucky ate the whole cookie and then stared at Harry while he licked his lips. “So what’s going on?”

“Nothing!” Harry all but shouted and then squeezed his eyes shut for a moment.

“No, really,” Bucky said with a quiet chuckle. “You take after your mother in many ways, Harry, but you do not share his talents in lying.”

Sighing, Harry briefly threw his head back in despair again before leaning forward and staring at Bucky. “Okay, so I messed up.”

“How?” Bucky asked, eyes narrowing.

“I made a bet with Natasha,” Harry whispered, feeling very foolish indeed.

“Oh yeah,” Bucky said with an understanding nod while a pained wrinkle appeared on his forehead. “You really messed up.”

“I know! And now I have until this evening to discover a secret from each of the Avengers. Something they wouldn’t want others to know.” Harry wrapped his hands around his warm mug of tea and stared at the tabletop.

Bucky reached for another cookie and took a big bite, chewing loudly. Once he’d swallowed, he said in a practical voice, “Okay, so let’s figure out some secrets.”

Harry perked up and gave Bucky an utterly grateful smile. “Really? You’ll help me?”

“Sure,” Bucky said easily. “I don’t want you to be indebted to a Black Widow. Cause she asked for a favour, didn’t she?”

Harry nodded miserably.

“Yeah, I figured,” Bucky said and ate the rest of his cookie before reaching for a new one. “So I can tell you a secret about Stevie right off the bat.”

At once Harry felt bad that he was making Bucky betray his friend like that. Something must have shown on his face because Bucky gave him a reassuring smile while he swallowed the last of his cookie.

“It’s nothing Natasha wouldn’t already have figured out on her own,” Bucky said, much to Harry’s relief. “Steve would go back if he could.”

Harry blinked. “Huh?”

Bucky shrugged as he looked down at his mug of tea. “If someone invented a time machine tomorrow, Steve would go back to the past in a heartbeat. He doesn’t want others to know, but he would leave.”

“Wow,” Harry said, staring at Bucky with large eyes. This was the kind of secret that came with lots of emotional baggage and Harry wasn’t sure if he could even understand such complicated conflicts a person could have. He was only 15, after all.

“Now for my secret,” Bucky said, sounding like he just wanted to get it over with already. “I miss it, sometimes.”

“Miss what?” Harry asked in a quiet voice, rather dreading the answer.

“Being the Winter Soldier.” Bucky’s gaze was faraway while he stared off to the right. “Being my own person is difficult and painful and so fucking exhausting. Sometimes I miss being the Winter Soldier because everything was decided for me and I never had to worry about myself.”

Harry looked at Bucky while a peculiar feeling rose in his chest. There was lots of sympathy, certainly, but there was also something akin to recognition. Which seemed weird, because Harry had no experience being a soldier who’d been brainwashed and tortured by the enemy for damn near 70 years. But Harry did have experience being a pawn on a chessboard that was being controlled by someone else, and he recognized that much about Bucky’s confession.

“Yeah,” Harry whispered. “It is harder to be your own person, having to make your own decisions, than to simply let someone else take charge.”

Bucky looked up at him with wide, surprised eyes.

Harry had to swallow a few times before he could continue. “Before last summer, I was happy enough to let people like Dumbledore make all the decisions for me, to shape my destiny, to use me as a… I don’t know.”

“A weapon,” Bucky breathed. “That old man wanted to use you as a weapon at some point.”

“Yeah, I suppose,” Harry said with a small nod, staring into Bucky’s blue eyes and there was a moment of sheer understanding between them, something Harry wasn’t sure he’d ever shared with anyone else before. “But I am glad I’m learning to make my own choices now.”

Bucky gave a few deep nods. “Yeah, me too. It’ll be worth it in the end.”

“So who else?” Harry said, hoping to lighten the suddenly serious mood a little.

“Clint,” Bucky said at once. “His childhood was fucked up.”

Harry sat back and gaped at Bucky. “That’s why he’s always defending me and stuff. I had noticed that he seemed to understand my childhood the best out of everyone here.”

Bucky made an agreeable gesture with his hand before reaching for another cookie.

“Okay, how about Bruce?” Harry asked eagerly, beyond happy now that it looked like he might actually win the bet.

“Tough one,” Bucky said in between bites. “But I think he envies the Hulk.”

“Envies how?” Harry asked with a confused quirk of his eyebrows.

“Envies how the Hulk can be all the things Bruce is scared of being,” Bucky explained, and while that didn’t make perfect sense to Harry, he figured that was because he didn’t know Bruce all that well. Of all the Avengers, Bruce was the person Harry had spent the least amount of time with. So for now Harry was happy to just take Bucky’s word for it.

“Tony,” Harry said and then straightened in his seat. “I actually have one for Tony, I think. He’s always telling people how there’s no such thing as magic and how he hates it and everything, but he’s there for every single magical lesson Loki gives me, pretending not to listen.” Harry gave Bucky a huge grin. “Tony wants to learn magic, but he doesn’t want anyone to know.”

“Works for me,” Bucky said with an agreeable nod. “The next one is Natasha.”

Harry got a burst of inspiration, from where he had no idea. “I remember something Natasha said while I talked to her. She said she understood that suddenly finding family could be scary.” Harry stared at Bucky as some mental puzzle pieces fell into place. “She’s worried to mess this whole Avengers thing up, isn’t she? Because she never had a family before.” Harry understood that feeling all too well, since he felt it often enough those days.

Bucky responded with a proud smile that lit up his whole face. “That seems about right. Now for the last one.”

“Thor,” Harry said while giving Bucky an expectant look.

“I’ve got nothing,” Bucky said, much to Harry’s quiet horror. “He’s an open book, pretty much.”

“Fuck,” Harry muttered while bowing his head and resting it in his hands. Just as victory had been within reach it was being snatched away again. “I’ve got nothing either.”

“I think out of everyone in the tower, only Loki might know one or two of Thor’s secrets,” Bucky pointed out. “If he even has any, that is.”

“Jarvis, please ask my mother to come here,” Harry said at once. “Tell him it’s an emergency!”

Loki all but burst through the door within three minutes, coming to an abrupt halt when he saw Harry and Bucky amicably sipping their mugs of tea.

“Cookie?” Harry picked up the significantly emptier plate and held it out to his mother.

“Haraldr, I was told there was an emergency,” Loki said with a pinched mouth as he stepped up to his son.

“And that’s true!” Harry insisted at once, giving his mother his most convincing smile. “I need to know a secret about Thor or else I’ll lose a bet and owe Natasha a favour.”

Loki narrowed his eyes while he looked Harry over and then he sighed and shook his head. “Thor does not have many secrets,” Loki explained while Harry stared up at him in something that bordered on desperation. “But there is one I can share. Thor no longer wants to be king.”

“Huh,” Bucky said with a contemplative frown. “I wouldn’t have guessed that.”

“Thor has desired the throne for his entire life, but ever since he’s turned Midgard into his second home he’s become more aware of his own shortcomings and he no longer desires to rule Asgard, at least not for the foreseeable future.” Loki leaned over and snatched up a cookie from the plate.

“That counts, right?” Harry asked, looking between Bucky and his mother with wide, hopeful eyes. “That’s got to count as a secret.”

“It does.” Bucky gestured vaguely at the ceiling. “Call Natasha so you can get this settled right away.”

“Jarvis, please ask Natasha to come here as soon as possible,” Harry asked and he quickly swallowed against a lump of anxiety that suddenly got lodged in his throat.

Natasha showed up 10 minutes later, briefly observed the visitors in Harry’s kitchen and gave him a knowing smile. “So you had others do the work for you.”

“You never said I couldn’t ask for help,” Harry pointed out immediately.

Natasha briefly pursed her lips. “So I didn’t.”

“Anyway, I’ve got secrets to share,” Harry offered her with a huge grin. Natasha waved her hand at him to share all he knew, so Harry rattled everything off. “Steve wants to go back if he could, Tony wants to learn magic, Bruce envies the Hulk for being all the things he’s scared of being, Clint had a fucked up childhood, you’re worried to mess up the whole Avengers thing and lose the only family you’ve ever had, and Thor no longer wants to be king.”

Natasha didn’t say or do anything for a few long moments as she stared at Harry. “How many of those did you come up with by yourself?”

“Two,” Harry said, and then quickly added, “And a half.” Since he was pretty sure he would have figured out Clint’s secret quickly enough if Bucky hadn’t beaten him to it. When Natasha still didn’t say anything, Harry picked up the plate of cookies and held it out to her. “Cookie?”

Natasha’s mouth quirked up briefly and she picked up a cookie while giving Harry an amused nod.

“Look,” Harry felt compelled to explain when Natasha still didn’t say anything as she ate her cookie. “I’m not like you guys. Naturally talented at discovering everything that makes another person tick. Maybe someday I’ll learn, but for right now I’m good at baking cookies and making friends and getting people to help me when I need it, and that’s important, too.”

Natasha got a thoughtful look on her face as she finished her cookie. “You’re right. Congratulations, Harry. You won the bet.”

Harry beamed as he looked between Bucky, Loki and Natasha, his whole body filled with a rush of sweet, warm victory.

“May I offer you my sincere congratulations, Mr Potter,” Jarvis said, sounding very proud.

“Well done,” Loki said, and he quickly snatched up two cookies on his way out of the room. “I was busy in the lab with Tony. See you at dinner, Haraldr.”

Natasha also grabbed another cookie before she headed out without saying another word.

That left Harry and Bucky staring at each other across the kitchen table. “Thanks,” Harry whispered, genuinely grateful his friend had stepped in at the last moment and saved his arse.

Bucky looked at Harry with a confused frown. “You didn’t include my secret in your list.”

Harry felt his cheeks heat for some inexplicable reason. “Because you’re not an official Avenger yet, and frankly, it’s none of Natasha’s business how you really feel.”

There was one last cookie lying on the plate and Bucky reached for it. But instead of taking a bite, he leaned over the table and offered the cookie to Harry. “You haven’t had one yet. They’re really good.”

And Harry accepted the cookie with a grateful smile while Bucky looked at him as though Harry was the most interesting thing he’d ever seen.

Chapter Text

Number 26

“How’s your dad?” Harry asked the moment he entered the compartment that held Ginny and Neville. Harry suspected that Ron and Hermione were off to the prefect meeting, so he kept his news about Voldemort’s demise to himself for the time being.

“He was allowed to go home yesterday,” Ginny said with a beaming smile as Harry sat down opposite her. “He’s expected to make a full recovery.” Ginny’s smile dropped off her face while her eyes narrowed. “What the hell’s been happening with you, Harry? Grimmauld Place is destroyed, the Burrow’s been turned into the new Order headquarters, and suddenly a whole bunch of purebloods have gone missing.” Ginny fished inside her pocket and pulled out a wrinkled article from the Daily Prophet, which she offered to Harry.

The article basically stated that many members of prominent families had disappeared without a trace, and that the Aurors found signs of a battle at Malfoy Manor when Draco Malfoy contacted them through the floo, claiming his family had been attacked and kidnapped by muggles. Obviously the ministry vehemently denied that muggles were involved. They also denied that Voldemort had anything to do with this, because as they’d been saying all year, Voldemort definitely wasn’t back.

Harry folded the article and gave it back to Ginny while offering her a teasing little smile. “I know what happened, but I won’t tell until Ron and Hermione get here.”

“Oh, come on.” Ginny leaned back with a huff, arms crossed tightly over her chest, but Harry ignored her impatient antics and stared out the window.

Loki and Thor stood on the platform and they gave him a quick wave when they spotted Harry looking at them. Harry waved back while a warm feeling settled in his chest. After the summer holidays, when Harry had returned to Hogwarts, it had very much felt like he was going home again. But now, for some reason, it felt like he was leaving home behind.

Harry wanted to go back to Hogwarts, he really did. He’d missed his friends and he was looking forward to learning more wizarding magic, but somehow during the Christmas holidays Harry had realized he now had a real home to call his own.

And leaving his home behind for the very first time wasn’t as easy as Harry had expected.

Of course, he had the phone which would work around magic, and he’d already promised his parents and Tony and Bucky that he would keep in touch this time instead of just keeping the phone in his trunk for emergencies. Not to mention his therapist Agatha expected weekly phone calls from him.

The train started moving with a few short shudders, and Harry pressed closer to the window and waved frantically at his parents, who returned the gesture with gusto. Well, Thor did. Loki merely gave Harry a proud smile. Before long, the train rounded a corner and Harry lost sight of his parents. He sat back with a sad little sigh and caught Ginny’s eyes. Ginny gave him a knowing little smile before she went back to pouting.

“What happened that you destroyed a whole building?” Neville asked curiously, which earned him an immediate chuckle from Harry, who was happy enough to tell the story of how his own godfather had tried to keep him imprisoned, and how Harry’s parents had come to the rescue.

By the time Harry was done telling that tale, Ron and Hermione stepped through the door.

“Harry!” Hermione said, all but throwing herself on a bench and giving Harry an expectant look. “Have you heard? Lots of purebloods are missing.”

Ron sat down beside Harry and gave him a hopeful smile. “Was that your lot? Apparently Malfoy claimed there were muggles involved.”

Harry grinned. “Yeah, that was the Avengers. Voldemort is dead.”

Several gasps of shock and surprise sounded throughout the compartment.

“What?” Ron demanded, eyes wide and cheeks flushed.

“Harry!” Hermione sat so close to the edge of her seat she was in very real danger of falling off completely. “You’ve got to tell us what happened.”

So Harry did, starting with the soul piece they’d found in his scar over the summer and ending with the story of how the Avengers had invaded Malfoy Manor, Loki had killed a now mortal Voldemort, and the Death Eaters had been shipped off to the Raft.

“You mean, that diary held a piece of Voldemort’s soul?” Ginny asked in a very small voice, her face pale. Hermione quickly wrapped a comforting arm around her shoulders.

Harry gave her a solemn nod. “Yeah, I had one in my scar for years.” Both Harry and Ginny shuddered for a moment, before Harry pulled himself back together. “But you don’t have to worry about them anymore. Loki and the rest hunted down all the soul containers and destroyed them. Voldemort is really dead for good.”

“I’m glad,” Neville muttered while he stared down at his shoes. “And I’m glad all those Death Eaters are locked up. They deserve it.”

“No one’s going to disagree with you, mate,” Ron said with an agreeable nod. Then he gave Harry a huge, hopeful grin. “Do you reckon they arrested Snape as well?”

Harry perked up at that idea, but before he could reply the compartment door slid open, revealing a supremely pissed-off Draco Malfoy with his wand out, aimed directly at Harry’s chest. “Where are my parents?” Malfoy demanded, grey eyes narrowed to slits, lips drawn up in a sneer. “I know your pet muggles have something to do with it, Potter, even if no one believes me.”

Harry had received private self-defence lessons from the Black Widow herself, and one of the first things she’d taught him was to always disarm your opponent as quickly as you could. And here Malfoy, who was very much Harry’s enemy, was aiming a potentially deadly weapon at him. Before Harry even knew what he was doing, he shot out his hand and plucked the wand right out of Malfoy’s hands.

Ron released a burst of laughter while Ginny couldn’t hold back a grin. Hermione looked as if she wasn’t sure if she should admonish Harry or not for taking another student’s wand.

“Malfoy,” Harry said while giving the blond boy a hard look, holding Malfoy’s wand securely in his lap. “Your parents got arrested because they were members of a terrorist organization. No, don’t deny it, we all know it’s true.” Harry inhaled a deep breath, making sure he felt calm and collected, because he’d learned that letting your emotions lead you in a confrontation like this was rarely a good option.

“Your parents, and all the other terrorists, are currently in prison. I have no clue how long they’ll be locked up for. I’m not their judge or jury.” Harry briefly twirled the wand around in his hand. “I’ll give this wand to a prefect, so you can get it back when we arrive at school.”

Harry paused for a moment, taking in Malfoy’s pale face and the desperate look in his eyes and part of him felt sorry for the boy. Harry understood now what it was like to have loving parents and he didn’t want to think about what it must feel like to have those snatched away like that. Still, Lucius and Narcissa Malfoy were adults who’d made their own choices and Harry didn’t feel any sympathy for them personally.

“Know this, Malfoy,” Harry said while leaning closer to the door. “If you even think about trying to get some sort of vengeance in the name of your terrorist parents, I will contact the Avengers and have them ship you off to prison, too, is that understood?”

Malfoy looked for a moment like he wanted to argue, but he had no wand. Harry was quite sure Malfoy had witnessed how vulnerable all those powerful Death Eaters had been the moment they’d lost their wands, so perhaps he’d learned a valuable lesson that day, because now he stepped back and shut the compartment door with a bang.

“Would those Avengers really lock up Draco Malfoy?” Neville asked a little worriedly.

Harry chuckled and gave Neville a reassuring smile. “I doubt it, since he’s only 15 like the rest of us. But it doesn’t hurt to remind him that there are bigger fish out there, now does it?”

Hermione stared into space with a thoughtful frown. “Do all the Death Eaters get public trials? How are they getting around the Statute of Secrecy?”

“I have no idea,” Harry said with a simple shrug. “I’ll ask the next time I call my parents.” Then he held out Malfoy’s wand and offered it to Hermione. “I did say I would give it to a prefect.”

Hermione accepted the wand with a small smile. “I’m glad Voldemort’s dead, Harry. I’m glad we won’t have to worry about him ever again.”

“Yeah,” Harry said in complete agreement.

They spent the rest of the journey talking about all sorts of things, from what they got for Christmas to the latest Quidditch news. When the trolley came by, Harry treated everyone to cauldron cakes and chocolate frogs to celebrate, much to Ron’s delight. And Harry felt so very happy to see his friends again, even if he did already miss his family.

Of course, something had to ruin Harry’s good mood eventually. And it came in the form of Albus Dumbledore, who stood waiting for Harry in the entrance hall.

“Mr Potter,” Dumbledore said, looking more than a little ticked off as he narrowed his eyes at Harry. “I need to see you in my office right away.”

Chapter Text

Number 27

The first thing Harry did, after telling his friends to go ahead and save him a seat in the Great Hall, was reach in his pocket and pull out his phone. While Dumbledore led the way through the corridors with rigid steps, Harry started a video call with his parents and the rest of the Avengers, just as they’d planned.

Harry’s parents weren’t idiots. They’d insisted Harry contact them at once should Dumbledore try to make some kind of move. In fact, just at that very moment, all of the Avengers plus Bucky were camped out in Hogsmeade, ready to come to the rescue if needed. None of them had forgotten that Dumbledore had effectively ordered Harry imprisoned for the Christmas holidays.

When the video call connected, Harry didn’t say anything, but just winked at his parents and Tony, whose faces he could see on the screen. He moved the phone around so his parents could see Dumbledore’s back as Harry followed him to his office. Loki returned his wink while Tony gave him a huge grin. Thor simply nodded at Harry while he sat back to watch the show.

Dumbledore didn’t speak to him until they were both seated in his office, Harry with the phone in his lap so the Avengers could see his face and hear the entire conversation.

“Mr Potter,” Dumbledore said, hands folded on his desk, face scrunched up in his most severely disappointed expression yet. “Your godfather was tremendously saddened that you not only refused to spend the holidays with him, but that you had your supposed parents absolutely wreck Headquarters.”

Harry managed to keep his expression straight, remembering Natasha’s lessons to keep his emotions under control. Flying off the handle wouldn’t help him in the slightest right now. “That’s an interesting way of saying you ordered me held captive while I wanted to spend the holidays with my family.” Harry swallowed back other replies he might want to give, about Sirius and how his godfather’s denial of Harry’s real parentage truly did hurt Harry. It was none of Dumbledore’s business and Harry refused to give him that sort of private information.

Dumbledore kept quiet for a moment while his severely disappointed expression endured. Then he sighed, long and deep, as though having to deal with Harry was the most exhausting thing in the world. “There were many reasons it was vitally important that you remain at Headquarters.”

“Such as?” Harry couldn’t help but ask.

“I had asked Professor Snape to start teaching you Occlumency over the holidays,” Dumbledore said, looking at Harry over the top of his glasses with narrowed eyes. “It is the art of shielding the mind, and I believe it will help you keep Voldemort out of your head.”

Harry blinked. He hadn’t had any strange dreams of being in Voldemort’s head for months now, ever since his mother had removed the soul piece from his forehead. Since then Harry had learned meditation from both Loki and Clint, and that had also helped tremendously to keep his thoughts straight and his emotions under control. Not to mention his therapy sessions with Agatha were starting to become truly helpful in making sense of his own inner workings.

“I doubt my parents would give permission for me to receive some kind of private lessons with a professor who hates me and enjoys nothing more than to make me suffer,” Harry finally said, clamping down on other, far less polite ways of phrasing his horror at the thought of Snape teaching him anything during private lessons.

Dumbledore sighed again. “Harry, Professor Snape wants what is best for you.”

Harry shrugged, because he knew without a doubt that wasn’t true. Snape might want to keep him alive, sure, but Snape didn’t mind one bit if Harry’s life was a gigantic mess of pain and suffering. Then he remembered Ron’s speculation on the train and he couldn’t help but say as he looked around the office, “Where is Snape? I would have thought he’d be here if we’re discussing private lessons with him.”

Dumbledore shifted in his seat while he briefly pursed his lips. “Professor Snape has been…delayed during a recent mission. I am certain he’ll return to Hogwarts as soon as possible.”

Harry had to work very hard to hold back the grin that wanted to spread out over his face. Ron was right! Snape was definitely locked up in the Raft with all the other Death Eaters. “This still doesn’t explain why you decided to imprison me during my holidays,” Harry said, because he was still curious what other excuses Dumbledore had for that.

“Voldemort is actively planning to confront you again, Harry,” Dumbledore said in a tone that suggested Harry was very, very stupid for not realizing this by himself. “The only safe location for you outside of Hogwarts was the Order’s Headquarters. But since it’s been destroyed that is no longer available to any of the Order members. Your actions have put a lot of lives at immediate risk, my boy.”

Harry ignored Dumbledore’s obvious attempt at a guilt trip and said, “Voldemort is dead.”

Dumbledore gaped at him, as though Harry had just said something Dumbledore had never, in a million years, ever expected Harry to say. It took him a good minute to regain his composure. “I don’t know what you mean to say, but I assure you, Voldemort is very much alive.”

Harry raised his nose in the air and gave Dumbledore a look as if the headmaster was obviously too stupid to understand what he was saying. “I assure you, headmaster, that the Avengers have killed Voldemort, after they destroyed all his soul containers, including the one in my scar. They’ve also arrested all the Death Eaters that were present, so I wouldn’t be expecting Snape back anytime soon.”

“What?” Dumbledore slumped back in his chair as though he’d just lost control of his own body. “You know about the horcruxes? They are not as easily destroyed, so I doubt a group of muggles could manage it.”

Harry rolled his eyes. “My mother is one of the most powerful sorcerers in the entire universe. He can destroy some wizarding made magical artifacts just fine.” On the screen in Harry’s lap, Loki was looking all sort of insulted that someone dare suggest he couldn’t destroy such things.

Dumbledore shook his head a few times, looking thoroughly in denial. “What is very concerning to hear is that these muggles have taken witches and wizards captive. They have no right.”

“Seeing as how Voldemort frequently targeted muggles, I’m sure the Avengers had every right. They work for all sorts of official muggle agencies and governments,” Harry explained, even though he doubted Dumbledore understood who and what the Avengers really were.

“Nonetheless,” Dumbledore said, sitting upright again, his gaze regaining some determination. “Professor Snape is a spy who works for me. He does not belong in a muggle prison. Where is he being kept?”

“It’s called the Raft,” Harry said in an almost bored tone. He truly couldn’t care less that Snape was forced to spend time in prison. He deserved it, the spiteful bastard. Harry hadn’t forgotten that Snape was all too willing to see Sirius kissed by a dementor, even after it became clear Sirius might very well be innocent. “I have no idea where it is. Somewhere in the ocean, I think.”

“Very well,” Dumbledore said, pushing himself to his feet. Harry quickly followed his example. “Thank you for your time, Harry. We’ll speak again soon.”

Harry quickly nodded and all but ran out of the office. “That wasn’t too bad,” Harry said, raising the phone up to his face as he walked towards the Great Hall.

“Sure, you win the first round,” Tony said with a pointed look. “But the match hasn’t been won yet, kid.”

“Keep your guard up,” Loki added.

“Call us if you need our aid,” Thor offered with a warm smile.

Harry’s chest glowed with the knowledge his family was there for him and he said a few words of goodbye before ending the call. Hermione had filled a plate for him with all his favourite foods, so Harry quickly tucked in since he was starving. Halfway through his meal he told Ron and Hermione what had happened in Dumbledore’s office, and Ron spent the rest of the meal practically bouncing in his seat out of sheer happiness that Snape had been arrested. Neville, who was sitting beside Hermione and overheard the whole conversation, actually got a little misty eyed out of sheer relief that Snape had been imprisoned.

Later, when Harry was safely tucked in bed and sound asleep, his phone buzzed him awake. Harry blinked tired eyes while he blindly reached for his phone.

“Wut?” Harry managed to say when he finally found the correct button to push. He rolled onto his back and promptly dropped the phone on his face. “Fuck.” After much grappling with the thing, Harry was finally able to look at the screen.

Loki and Tony’s faces were squashed together as they grinned at Harry. No, grinning was too mellow a word to describe the way they looked. They were maniacally beaming in sheer, unadulterated victory might be a better description.

“So Dumbledore found the Raft,” Tony said while Loki squinted his eyes and sniggered like a cartoon villain.

Harry blinked, feeling instantly awake at hearing that news. “What? How?”

“We believe he might have tracked that Snape dude,” Tony continued while Loki kept sniggering, looking more amused than Harry had ever seen him. “Naturally, Loki here had warded all the cells housing Voldemort’s henchmen against magical interference or escape. Dumbledore tried opening Snape’s cell, but failed. So instead he decided to open other cells, which hadn’t been magically reinforced because they don’t house wizards.”

“Uh oh,” Harry said, dread pooling in his stomach. He’d heard plenty of stories from Clint about what sort of criminals were housed in the Raft.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed with a dry chuckle. “The first cell Dumbledore opened housed the Abomination.”

“That evil Hulk monster?” Harry asked while he stared at Tony with wide, disbelieving eyes. How the hell could Dumbledore be so stupid.

“Yep, the very same,” Tony said, while Loki had his face pressed to Tony’s shoulder as he shook with silent laughter. “Maybe Dumbledore thought he could magic the Abomination to do his bidding or something, but whatever his plans were, the Abomination quickly put a stop to them.”

“And to Dumbledore,” Loki added in a hoarse voice and went back to sniggering.

Harry stared at the screen in utter disbelief. “Wait…do you mean…”

“Yeah, Dumbledore got flattened by the Abomination,” Tony said, trying to sound solemn but failing miserably. “He’s dead.”

Harry found himself utterly speechless. Never had he expected Dumbledore to try to break Snape out of prison and end up a pile of pulp courtesy of the Abomination. “Er..”

“Yeah,” Tony agreed before cracking up altogether. Loki had yet to stop laughing. “They’ve put his remains in a box. We’ll drop it off at the Hogwarts gates in the morning, once the helicopter gets here.”

“Okay,” Harry said because he had no idea what else to say.

“We’ll talk more tomorrow,” Tony said when Harry remained quiet out of genuine shock. “Try to get some more sleep.” The call ended and Harry dropped the phone to his chest.

Fucking hell. Dumbledore was dead, and Harry had no idea what to think about that.

Chapter Text

Number 28

Harry tossed and turned for almost an hour, trying to go back to sleep, but his mind was swirling with thoughts about Dumbledore and his sudden demise. Finally, Harry gave up and threw the blankets back with a frustrated huff before getting up.

It was very early, still, and it was dark outside, yet Harry got dressed for the cold weather because what he desperately needed was some fresh air. He contemplated bringing his broom to do some flying to clear his head, but he also knew it wasn’t a good idea to go flying in the darkness by yourself. If something happened it would be hours before help would arrive.

So Harry opted for a brisk walk around Hogwarts’ grounds to calm his racing mind and to make sense of the situation. He was glad he’d thought to wear a thick scarf and gloves, because the air was freezing and the grass crunched beneath his shoes with a thin layer of frost. Still, the cold was a welcome distraction as Harry walked into the direction of the lake.

There were lots of emotions happening inside of him, yet Harry wasn’t entirely sure what kind of emotions they were, exactly. Agatha had asked him to try to name his emotions from now on, every time he was confronted with strong ones.

What Harry had learned from his sessions with Agatha was that he was allowed to have emotions, and that all his emotions were valid, no matter what they were. No one could tell him what to feel.

Knowing that much did make it easier for Harry to examine his own feelings.

There was shock, lots of it. But there was also sadness, and perhaps even grief. Ever since Harry had found his real parents his relationship with Dumbledore had gone down the drain, but during the years before that, Harry had looked up to the old headmaster, had genuinely cared about him. And, as it turned out, those feelings weren’t so easily dismissed, even if nowadays Harry no longer much cared for how Dumbledore had treated him.

There was also a lot of anxiety, because how the hell was Harry supposed to tell people Dumbledore had died? Should he go see McGonagall first thing and tell her? Should he write to the Ministry? To Minister Fudge?

Would they even believe him? Would they arrest him for Dumbledore’s death? The ministry wasn’t exactly fond of Harry ever since he’d claimed Voldemort was back. Harry was genuinely worried Fudge might try to pin Dumbledore’s death on him, just so he didn’t have to admit what really happened to the public.

It wasn’t until he’d walked halfway around the lake and the sun finally started cresting the horizon that Harry realized that it wasn’t up to him to inform the adults of what had happened.

This was exactly the kind of situation he’d discussed with Agatha a few times! An adult situation that required adult interference. Harry, being only 15 years old, held no responsibility concerning any of it.

A huge woosh of air escaped Harry in sheer relief once he realized he didn’t have to inform anyone. Tony and Loki had said Dumbledore’s remains would be delivered to Hogwarts, and Harry assumed some kind of explanation would be given as to how Dumbledore had died.

Much of the anxiety that had tied Harry’s stomach into tight knots disappeared and Harry was left with the slow ache of sadness and grief. He stuck his hand in his pocket and took out Frigga’s gemstone rose. He rubbed his thumb across the smooth surface, wondering if he should call his grandmother. He’d told her he would, and he really did want to talk to someone. Not necessarily about Dumbledore, but Harry simply longed to hear a friendly voice, to connect with someone else for a little while.

But would he be waking Frigga, since it was still so early? Well, it was early in Scotland. Harry had no clue what time it was on Asgard.

Just as Harry decided to go for it and try to speak with his grandmother, he saw a figure emerge from the shadows ahead of him, stepping out from behind a few large rocks on the shoreline of the lake.

It was Loki.

Harry’s heart soared, so glad to see a familiar, friendly face. He broke out in a huge grin and quickened his steps until he came closer to the man and realized it wasn’t his mother after all.

The man looked an awful lot like Loki, but there were also differences. His face was a little narrower, his hair shorter, his eyes more golden than green. He was just as tall, though, and his smile was just as sharp. He wore loose black clothing made from linen or cotton instead of the leather garments Loki preferred.

“Hello, little brother,” the man said, and Harry gaped up at him in surprise.

This was his brother! Except Harry had no idea which one. He had two, and a sister. But one of his brothers, Fenrir, was a huge wolf, and his other one, Jormungandr, was a giant snake. This man was neither of those things.

“Hi,” Harry finally said, just to be polite, even if he was still trying desperately to figure out who was standing in front of him. “I’m Harry.”

“And I’m Jormungandr,” the man said with a knowing smile, as though he was well aware how clueless Harry was when it came to his identity. “You may call me Jor.”

“Oh! Hi!” Harry beamed up at his brother now that he knew who had come to meet him. “I thought you were a snake.” Harry frowned as he quickly glanced down. Had that been some kind of joke or a prank Loki had tried to play on him. His mother did have a very strange sense of humour from time to time.

Jor laughed and gave Harry a very fond look. “I usually am, but I am also a shapeshifter, just like Loki and the rest of our Jotun kin.”

Harry blinked. “Our what kin?”

“Our Jotun kin,” Jor repeated slowly but not unkindly. “You do know we are Frost Giants, yes? My mother was a Frost Giant. Loki himself is also a Frost Giant, though he only recently discovered this. He was raised as an Aesir.”

“I had no idea,” Harry whispered, because Loki had never mentioned any of this, only that he was adopted. Harry wasn’t even sure what a Frost Giant even was. “I thought I was just human.”

“You were never human, little brother,” Jor said with a sharp grin. “You were always the child of gods. Your father, Thor, is mostly Aesir. And your mother is Jotun.”

Harry shook his head. “I know I’m Asgardian and whatever spell Odin put on me to make me seem human will break when I turn 17.” He gave Jor a careless shrug. “But no one ever mentioned the Jotun thing before. I don’t even know what they are.”

“Ah.” Jor looked a little saddened. “I had hoped Loki would have come to terms with his own heritage. He never seemed to have many problems with Jotun when he lay with my mother and sired me, Fenrir and our sister Hel.” Jor got a mischievous twinkle in his eyes “Let me show you what a Jotun looks like, little brother.” And at once Jor started growing until he stood at least as tall as Hagrid.

He also turned blue. And got weird markings on his skin. Also, he grew horns.

Harry gaped at him in sheer disbelief. This was what Loki really looked like? “Are you sure this is what I really am?” Harry was now genuinely worried what he might look like once the enchantments broke when he turned 17. Would he even be able to go out and about if he turned into a blue horned alien as tall as a giant? Would he even be able to find a girlfriend? Somehow an image of Bucky flashed through Harry’s mind. Or perhaps a boyfriend, Harry conceded in the privacy of his own mind.

“Yes, you are half Jotun.” Jor leaned down so he could stare Harry into his eyes. Jor’s eyes had become red, but thankfully they looked nothing like Voldemort’s. “But that means that you are also a shapeshifter. If you want to look like a Jotun, you can. But if you want to look Aesir, you can also do that.”

At once, Harry’s mind came up with all sorts of interesting scenarios. He knew Loki was a shapeshifter. He’d heard others talk about it, and he’d seen his mother change his appearance a time or two. Plus Harry knew that was how he’d been conceived. Loki had turned into a woman and tricked Thor. But Harry had never considered that he himself might be a shapeshifter, too.

Harry gave Jor a considering look. “Loki’s been teaching me magic, but he’s never mentioned me shapeshifting.”

“Would you like to learn, little brother?” Jor asked as he shifted back to his human form. Or rather, Harry conceded, his Aesir form. Harry wondered why Jor chose to look like that, since Jor himself had no Aesir blood. Was it to resemble Loki? Or didn’t he want to scare Harry during their first meeting?

“Yes!” Harry said, chest filling with eager anticipation. “I’d love to learn.”

“I’ll be happy to teach you,” Jor said with a warm smile which made him look nothing like Loki, but very much like his own person.

“There’s plenty of places we can use in the castle,” Harry offered. “I can sneak you in. You can use my invisibility cloak if need be.”

“Alas, I cannot wander that far away from the water,” Jor said, gesturing to the gentle waves a few feet away. “This is as far as I can go.”

“What?” Harry blinked in confusion, and then he remembered that Odin had cast Jor to earth to imprison him there. “Really? There’s no way to break the spell?”

Jor shrugged as he looked out over the lake. “Loki has been searching for ways to free me, but he’s not had much success yet.” Jor glanced at Harry, his smile nothing if not hopeful. “Still, I cannot complain. It could be far worse.”

“How could this be worse?” Harry demanded, outraged on his brother’s behalf.

“I could be imprisoned by unbreakable chains, like our brother Fenrir,” Jor said matter-of-factly, giving Harry an almost challenging look. “Or I could be forever stuck in the realm of the dead, like our sister Hel.”

That was something Harry hadn’t even considered before. He’d been supremely pissed off at Odin for snatching him away from his loving parents Loki and Thor, who clearly wanted to raise him, and for dumping him on earth where he eventually ended up in a cupboard under the stairs with people who treated him like dirt.

But Jor was right. While Harry’s childhood had been miserable, it wasn’t nearly as bad as Jor’s fate, or Fenrir’s or Hel’s.

A sense of shame washed over Harry for only thinking about his own lot in life and for not considering what his siblings were going through. “I’ll help you,” Harry said, before he even knew what he was really saying. “You teach me how to shapeshift, and I’ll help you find a way to break these enchantments. And then we can free Fenrir and Hel, too.”

Jor’s expression went from slightly disbelieving to genuinely grateful and back a few times before he gave Harry a firm nod. “It’s a deal, little brother.”

“So can we meet here for our lessons?” Harry gestured at the lake. In the distance he saw the giant squid lurking, just breaking the surface as it glared at Jor with large, luminous eyes.

“This lake is connected to the ocean through an underground cave system, so I can easily swim here,” Jor said, also noticing the giant squid and giving it a cheeky wink.

“That explains why there is a giant squid in a freshwater lake, at least,” Harry mused. “My friend Hermione’s been wondering about that for years now. She’ll be happy to learn where it came from.”

Jor seemed amused by Harry’s rambling. “We can meet here at sunrise, however often you like.”

Harry was very eager to start learning how to shapeshift, so he said, “Can we start tomorrow?”

“Certainly.” Jor made his way towards the waves. “I cannot stay out of the water for very long, but I can teach you just fine standing in the lake up to my ankles.”

“Wait!” Harry just remembered he had a phone with a camera. He wanted to take a picture of his brother so he could show Ron and Hermione. “Can we take a picture together?”

Jor seemed intrigued by the phone Harry pulled out of his pocket. “I see so many people with those things, but I am unsure how they work.”

“It’s a phone, but it also has a camera. Move closer to me, so we can take a picture of us both.” Harry held the camera at arm’s length, and when Jor lowered his head beside Harry’s, he said, “Smile!” and quickly snapped a picture.

It came out fine, though Harry was no photographer so he had no clue, really.

“Thanks! I’ll send a copy to Loki as well, I’m sure he’ll enjoy it.” Harry grinned up at his brother, still a little unsure how to act around him. Harry had never had a sibling before, but he really liked the idea of it. And Jor seemed nice enough.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, at sunrise.” And with that, Jor stepped into the freezing lake and walked straight into its depths while Harry waved him goodbye.

As he strolled back to Hogwarts, his chest warm and his mind much calmer, Harry sent Loki a message. ‘Met my brother just now!’ He attached the picture.

Within minutes, Loki sent a reply. It was a smiley face with little heart eyes. Harry had no clue what that meant, but it seemed nice enough and that was good enough for him.

With a renewed spring in his step, Harry hurried back to the castle. He couldn’t wait to show off his brother to his friends.

Chapter Text

Number 29

“Harry, you have to tell someone!” Hermione’s face was pale with anxiety as they trooped through Hogwarts’ hallways on their way to breakfast.

Harry gave her an incredulous look. “No, I don’t.”

Hermione huffed in obvious frustration. “Of course you do! Dumbledore’s dead and people need to know.”

Harry took a few moments to inhale a deep, calming breath. “That’s really above my paygrade, Hermione.” Harry had heard Clint use that expression a few times over the holidays and he figured the current situation was appropriate to use it. Tony also liked to use it, Harry remembered, though he always claimed things were below his paygrade which always made Steve roll his eyes.

Both Ron and Hermione had responded really well to seeing the picture of Jor and Harry had experienced an odd sense of pride while he showed off his newly found brother. But then he let slip that he’d learned what happened to Dumbledore and ever since then Hermione kept nagging him to tell someone. Who, she didn’t say.

“The Ministry hates Harry,” Ron pointed out, much to Harry’s relief. “They might try to pin it all on him, since he got the muggles involved in our mess in the first place.”

“Exactly,” Harry said quickly, though it did nothing to calm Hermione down. “I’m just a kid, and I barely know what actually happened anyway. This is government level stuff, Hermione. They don’t want a 15-year-old to stick his nose in and bollocks everything up.”

Hermione bit her lip and wrung her hands, eyebrows pinched with worry. “I don’t know. It just seems that people should be aware of what happened.”

“They will be. Just be patient.” Harry stuck his hand in the pocket of his robes, feeling if his phone was still there. Somehow his phone had become very important to him nowadays. It allowed him to talk to his parents and Jarvis and Bucky, and it now had a picture on it of his brother Jor. “I hope I can meet Fenrir and Hela sometime soon as well,” Harry muttered, trying to change the subject.

“And Sleipnir,” Hermione added distractedly, still full of doubt about what she’d learned about Dumbledore’s fate.

“Who?” Harry looked at her with a frown.

“Honestly,” Hermione said with a huff while she gave Harry a disbelieving look. “You have four siblings, according to the myths. Jormungandr, Fenrir, Hela and Sleipnir.”

Harry blinked, sure he’d only ever heard Loki mention three siblings. “Who the hell is Sleipnir?”

“The horse!” Hermione stopped walking so she could better glare at Harry. “He’s Odin’s horse.”

“Ah.” Harry’s frown deepened. “Tony did mention a horse at some point, but that’s all I’ve ever heard about it.”

Ron looked like he was trying hard not to laugh. “Having trouble keeping track of all your siblings, mate? We might turn you into an actual Weasley just yet.”

Harry laughed at that and even Hermione managed a small, amused smile, and then they resumed walking and reached the Great Hall in less than a minute. They dropped any sensitive subjects for the time being since there was too much risk of being overheard, but Harry couldn’t stop thinking about Sleipnir. He was sure Tony had mentioned him, or at least a horse, but Loki never had, and Jor hadn’t said anything about him either.

“You’ve got to admit that Snape ending up in prison is the greatest thing that’s happened since Umbridge self-destructed a few months ago,” Ron sighed, voice full of nostalgia as he stared at Snape’s empty seat at the head table.

“We’ve got two hours free today,” Harry agreed with a happy little smile. He still wasn’t sure how he felt about Dumbledore’s sudden demise, but he had to agree with Ron that Snape’s imprisonment was a cause for celebration.

“Some of us want to pass our OWLs,” Hermione snapped while she glared at Ron. “Some of us prefer our Professors in front of the classroom.”

Ron looked at Hermione as though she’d gone completely mental and Harry felt a warm rush of fond affection for his best friends. He really was happy he’d decided to return to Hogwarts because he would have missed Ron and Hermione something awful if he hadn’t.

Throughout Charms that morning, the whole Sleipnir debacle kept bothering Harry. The idea he might have an extra sibling that no one mentioned didn’t sit well with Harry. Was it because he was a horse? Or because he worked for Odin, after a fashion? Why would nobody mention him, except indirectly for Tony?

Their next class was Potions, which wasn’t happening for obvious reasons. They did march down to the Potions classroom, at Hermione’s insistence, but there they found a note taped to the door in McGonagall’s handwriting, urging them to spend some time in the library for self-study during any upcoming Potions classes for at least the next week.

Hermione seemed perfectly happy to follow McGonagall’s instructions, of course, and even if Ron scowled he did trail after her. Harry excused himself, saying he needed the bathroom, but instead he ducked inside the first empty classroom he could find.

Harry considered calling his mother, but Loki’s children were a very sensitive subject and Harry didn’t want to accidentally upset Loki, so he decided against it. He also considered calling his father, but Thor had the tendency to share his conversations with everyone around him, loudly, so Loki might still overhear Harry’s questions and be hurt, so Thor was out as well.

In the end Harry decided to call the only guy who’d ever even mentioned a horse.

Tony looked slightly dishevelled as his face appeared on Harry’s phone screen. “Kiddo. Why are you up so late?”

Harry blinked and then he remembered time differences. “Sorry,” he mumbled, slightly embarrassed he’d forgotten something so simple. He could tell from the background Tony stood in his lab in Avengers Tower. “It’s morning here. I’d forgotten.”

Tony waved Harry’s worries away. “It’s fine. I’m not sure what time it is here, actually. Just putting some final touches on some weapons. We’ve got a mission coming up.” Tony blinked a few times and then gave Harry a wide grin. “What can I do for you, kid?”

“Er…” It took Harry a few moments to come up with the right words. “You mentioned a horse, when we first met. That Loki gave birth to a horse, I mean. But no one else ever did, they all only talked about Jor and Fenrir and Hela. Until Hermione pointed out just now that I should also have a sibling named Sleipnir. Who is a horse.”

Tony glanced down, briefly biting his lip before he couldn’t hold back any chuckles. “Yeah, that remark landed me in a doghouse for a few days with your mother.”

“So it’s not true?” Harry asked, utterly confused. “I don’t have a horse brother?”

“You don’t have a horse brother, as far as I know,” Tony said a firm nod. “When I said that, Loki and I hadn’t actually talked about any of his other kids yet. He and Thor had only mentioned you at that point.”

“Ah.” Harry felt simultaneously relieved and disappointed. Relieved that one of his siblings wasn’t being forced to live as Odin’s personal taxi, but disappointed he didn’t have an extra sibling after all. Harry really liked having siblings.

“The whole thing about that famous horse being used in a bet is true. Except Loki never shapeshifted into a horse himself, he simply took one of Odin’s prized mares who happened to be in heat or something and used it to distract the stallion. Inevitably, a baby horse was made that day and that turned out to be Sleipnir. But some of Thor’s asshole friends spread the rumour that the mare had been Loki and that Sleipnir was his kid, since Loki already had a bunch of shapeshifting kids so what was one more.” Tony rattled off the whole story while he tinkered with some objects off camera.

Harry had often heard his mother complain about stuff Thor’s friends had done to him in the past, so he wasn’t at all surprised they were behind the whole thing. “Okay. Thanks for telling me.”

“You’re welcome. Anything else?” Tony gave him an expectant look.

“No. Wait. Yeah. Maybe.” Harry inhaled a deep breath. “Hermione expects me to announce Dumbledore’s death, but I don’t think I should.”

“And you shouldn’t,” Tony agreed at once. “Let the grownups handle this one. Official announcements have gone out to Macusa from Shield and the US government. Macusa will let the British magical government know sometime today.”

Releasing a relieved sigh, Harry nodded in understanding. That was way over his paygrade, just as he’d suspected. “Thanks for letting me know. What’s your new mission?”

“We’ve got a lead on the missing sceptre,” Tony said as he went back to tinkering. “Some Hydra hideout in Sokovia. We’ll be in and out. Piece of cake.”

“All right, good luck.”

“Sure, see you later.” And with that Tony cut the connection.

Harry tucked his phone away and quickly made his way to the library, where he had the privilege of letting a shocked Hermione know she’d been wrong. Twice.

Chapter Text

Number 30

Ron and Hermione had all but begged Harry to come with him to meet his brother the next morning, even if it was at sunrise. Hermione was also very interested in the magic Jor would be teaching Harry.

“Do you think he’ll teach me as well?” Hermione asked, looking just a bit nervous, though why Harry wasn’t sure.

“I don’t see why he wouldn’t,” Harry said with a shrug as they all trooped across Hogwarts’ wide lawns towards the lake while the sun just crested over the horizon. The air was chilly and the ground covered in frost, but they were all well dressed for the weather with thick scarves and gloves.

“I’m not sure I’m up for learning even more this year,” Ron said with a laugh. They had been given enormous amounts of work by all their professors leading up to their OWLs. “But I will help you find a way to free your siblings.”

“Thanks, mate.” Harry gave Ron a grateful smile, and just then they saw a lone figure standing in the shallow water.

“Wow, he looks just like Loki,” Hermione said as Harry waved at his brother, who immediately waved back.

“Harry does, too,” Ron said, much to Harry’s surprise. “From what I could see when your parents brought headquarters down, you look a lot more like your mother than your father.”

“He’s not wrong,” Hermione agreed.

Harry felt inexplicably pleased to hear that. Just then they reached Jor and Harry made some quick introductions and asked if Hermione could join their lessons.

“I wouldn’t mind teaching one of Haraldr’s friends,” Jor said with an amicable smile. “However, you lack the proper physicality for shapeshifting, since you are human.”

“We wizards can learn to shapeshift, though,” Hermione insisted with wide eyes, looking rather like someone had just told her the OWLs were cancelled. “We can become an Animagus.”

“Ah, but that is only one form, yes?” Jor said with a knowing look. When Hermione made an agreeable sound, Jor continued, “That is how far a human can push their body when it comes to shapeshifting themselves. What I’m teaching Harry is far more complex than that and it requires the body of a Jotun or Aesir.”

“Oh.” Hermione chewed on her lip and stared down at her shoes.

“I’ll still need help learning,” Harry quickly said, giving Hermione a gentle nudge with his elbow. “You could still learn the theory and help me practice.”

Thankfully, that seemed to cheer Hermione up a bit at once. That was, until Jor opened his mouth again.

“I’m not sure how much use that would be. Harry will need at least a century of practice before he’ll master this art. I’m afraid your human friend will be long dead by then.”

“Wizards live longer than regular people,” Ron said, sounding a bit feeble, his face suddenly quite pale. Hermione was staring at Jor in shock before rounding on Harry looking like she wanted to give him a very long, hard hug.

Harry felt much the same way as his friends looked. He was at once lightheaded with shock and he couldn’t draw in enough air, or so it felt like.

Harry had known for a while now that he wasn’t human, of course. But until that point, Harry had sort of seen that as an abstract statement. He hadn’t yet grasped what it meant for the people around him. For the people he cared about most.

Looking at Ron and Hermione, Harry desperately searched for words to say but nothing would come out of his mouth.

“It’s all right, mate,” Ron said, voice barely audible. Hermione’s bottom lip trembled while her eyes became shiny.

“It’s not,” Harry finally managed to say. Ron and Hermione would grow old and die while Harry would remain young for a long time still to come. He’d still be taking magic lessons from his brother when Ron and Hermione would pass on from old age. “Nothing about this is all right.”

“I’m sorry,” Jor whispered, looking properly contrite. “I thought you’d come to grips with this already. I would not have been so blunt otherwise.”

Harry couldn’t stop shivering, and Hermione grabbed his elbow. “I think it’s best if we take him inside the castle for now. Get him some hot chocolate, that will help.”

“Very well.” Jor gave Harry a pat on his shoulder before stepping further into the lake. “Take care, Haraldr. I’ll be here every morning at sunrise. Come back when you’re ready.”

“Thanks,” Harry managed to whisper. He hated disappointing his brother when they’d only just met, but he still couldn’t breathe properly.

They went straight to the kitchens where the house-elves gave them all as many mugs of hot chocolate with whipped cream as they wanted. Harry drank two straight in a row and it did help to settle his body a little.

“Want to talk about it?” Hermione asked, also on her second mug.

“No.” Harry did want to talk, but not with his friends. He needed to talk to his mother. Thankfully they had History first thing. Once Ron and Hermione got ready for class, Harry lingered in the kitchen. “I’m going to call my mum.”

Ron nodded in understanding, and even Hermione, who was usually a stickler for always attending all classes, gave Harry a sympathetic smile without comment.

Once his friends were gone, Harry grabbed his phone and dialled his mother’s number. No one answered though. Right after that, Harry tried his father, who also didn’t pick up. It was only then that Harry remembered the Avengers had a mission.

Crap. Was there no one to call? Harry really needed to speak to someone right now, preferably a member of his family.

That is when Harry remembered his grandmother and he reached inside his pocket and pulled out the gemstone rose. Harry wasn’t even sure how it worked, so he just rubbed it a little and held it up to his mouth as though it was a microphone.

“Grandmother Frigga? I really need to talk to you.”

It took a few moments, but then an image of Frigga’s head and torso appeared over the rose, looking much like one of Tony’s holograms. “Haraldr, my dear, how are you?”

“Not so good,” Harry said, and before he even knew what he was doing he blurted everything out. “I met my brother Jor and he is going to teach me shapeshifting magic and my friends came along to meet him but then Jor reminded us that I’m essentially immortal and they’re not and they’ll be dead before I’m even middle-aged.”

Frigga nodded in understanding. “First of all, Haraldr, we are not immortal. We’re just very long lived. We can die in battle just as most other beings can.” She then took a moment to really look at Harry. “But I understand that the idea of losing your best friends is a difficult one. Here is my advice, Haraldr. Try not to dwell on the inevitable loss. Try to enjoy every single moment you still have to spend with them.”

Harry inhaled a deep breath, and then another one. Listening to his grandmother speak, her calming voice giving him sound advice, finally settled him down completely. “I will. Thanks.”

Smiling, Frigga gestured at Harry to carry on talking. “Now tell me about your meeting with Jormungandr. How is your brother?”

And that is how Harry spent the rest of the hour. Catching up with his grandmother. By the time Harry had to get to Transfiguration, Frigga promised him to send him some books of the magic she wished to teach him and Harry felt much more at ease with himself and the world.

Ron and Hermione gave him dubious looks when Harry approached them with a huge smile. “Talked to my grandmother. She’s really nice and really smart. We should just enjoy the time we have together.”

“That certainly is true,” Hermione agreed, also perking up a little.

Harry looked between his friends, who he would lose before long, and decided that he would cherish every moment he had left with them.

Chapter Text

Number 31

Dumbledore’s death was announced at dinner that evening. McGonagall rose from her seat, lips tight, face solemn.

“It is with sincere regret that I have to tell you that Headmaster Dumbledore has passed away,” McGonagall said and at once the whole hall gasped in shock. Several students burst into tears and some of the first years were shaking so hard in their seats that older students helped them towards the door where Madam Pomfrey stood with a basket of Calming Draughts. Even more students were wondering out loud what on earth had happened while others speculated about Dumbledore having passed away due to old age.

McGonagall held up both her hands to quiet everyone down. “Headmaster Dumbledore was fatally wounded during a rescue attempt of Professor Snape who has been unlawfully imprisoned by the Muggles.”

Harry got ready to object to that because McGonagall was being very creative with the truth, but Hermione quickly put her hand on Harry’s arm.

“Now is not the time, Harry,” she whispered furiously when Harry gave her an annoyed glare. “Let people mourn first and then you can set them straight.”

“She’s got a point,” Ron added with a serious look. “Do you honestly want the Prophet to slander you even more while everyone is still in shock about Dumbledore’s death?”

“Yeah, all right,” Harry said with a tired sigh. “I’ll tell people what happened later. Especially the fact that Snape is being legally detained while awaiting a trial.”

Ron snorted in a mixture of amusement and restraint. “I doubt most wizards will even acknowledge the Muggle courts, Harry, even for a right bastard like Snape.”

“That’s absurd,” Hermione was quick to say, as usual up in arms the second she detected any kind of unfairness in a mile radius around her. “The Death Eaters attacked Muggle targets, so it stands to reason they can be tried in a Muggle court.”

“You’re expecting wizards to have common sense again,” Harry pointed out with a roll of his eyes. “Stop doing that.”

McGonagall was done with her little speech of remembrance and with a swish of her wand she turned the House flags above their tables black. “Classes will be suspended tomorrow and Friday. The Headmaster will be buried on Saturday here at Hogwarts.”

Back in the Gryffindor common room Harry explained to a few people, like Neville and Parvati and the Twins what had really happened to Dumbledore. But because the Ministry had all but destroyed Harry’s good name that year not everyone was so eager to hear Harry’s explanations. Seamus in particular gave Harry a few very dirty looks, and Cormac McLaggen, a burly sixth year, even tried to hex Harry but his aim was off so he hit a suit of arms instead. After that Harry decided to just go to his dormitory and call it an early night.

Sometime during the night his phone beeping woke Harry up. The dormitory was dark and quiet while the moon was still up high in the sky. Harry reached for his phone and realized he had a message from Loki.

Meet me on top of your highest tower at once.

Harry blinked and wondered what the hell was going on. Then he remembered that the Avengers had been on a mission that day. Had something happened? Was Thor injured, or worse? Was Tony all right? Was Bucky hurt?

Fear gripped Harry so tightly he had trouble breathing, and he stepped out of bed as quietly as he could. He slipped on a pair of shoes and his school robes over his pyjamas, and then he grabbed his broom and opened the window. Walking all the way to the Astronomy tower would take at least twenty minutes and Harry didn’t think he could keep it together for that long while his mind conjured up detailed obituaries for every single person Harry cared about.

So Harry took the most direct route and flew to the Astronomy Tower. He saw Loki’s tall, lean form standing in the darkness, wind whipping through his long hair.

“Mum!” Harry almost barrelled right into Loki in his eagerness to see his mother. “Is everyone all right?”

Loki smiled at him and it looked rather sad, which made Harry’s heart skip a beat in instant worry. “Everyone’s alive and mostly whole. Barton suffered some injuries but he should recover. And Tony… was attacked by a woman with mind-controlling powers but he refuses to believe me.”

“What?” Harry set his broom against the wall right beside the door and looked up at his mother in utter confusion. “Why are you here, though? What’s going on?”

Loki sighed, and it sounded so tired that it made Harry incredibly worried for his mother. “I’ve come to say goodbye, Haraldr.”

”What?” Harry gaped at Loki, completely confused. “What do you mean? You can’t leave.”

“I don’t want to, child, believe me,” Loki said, placing a cool hand against Harry’s cheek. “Not when I’ve only just found you again. But I have to if I want to save Tony’s life and sanity.” And with a flick of his wrist, Loki summoned what looked like a sceptre with a glowing blue stone inside of it. “Because of that woman’s mind magics, Tony is now obsessed with this and I cannot allow him to destroy himself and the world. So I have to take this off planet and I don’t know if I’ll ever be back.”

“I don’t understand,” Harry whispered, because he really wasn’t sure what his mother was talking about.

“Just know that I love you,” Loki whispered, leaning down and pressing a long kiss to Harry’s cheek. “You’re my son and I couldn’t be more proud of you, Haraldr.”

Harry’s eyes filled with tears even though he hated the idea of crying in front of his parents. “Don’t go, please, don’t go.”

“You still have Thor,” Loki said, as though that made up for Harry’s mother essentially abandoning him. With one last smile that seemed filled with grief, Loki blinked out of existence.

“Fuck!” Harry yelled, overcome with anger and hurt and something beyond shock. He pulled his phone out of his pocket and called everyone he knew. Thor, Tony, Bucky, Steve, Clint and even Natasha. She owed him a fucking favour, even, and yet she didn’t answer her phone. None of them did.

Harry eventually gave up and climbed back on his broom. The sun was starting to rise in the distance and Harry flew down to the lake, hoping with all his heart his brother would keep his promise and show up at sunrise.

Jor was there, just wading out of the water as Harry descended on his broom. “Help,” Harry called, causing Jor to stare at him with wide eyes full of concern. “Loki’s gone mental.”

Jor snorted and shook his head. “What’s our beloved parent done now?”

“He took a sceptre off planet to save Tony and he said he might not ever be back again.” Harry’s eyes were still full of tears and one escaped. Harry quickly wiped if off, feeling very silly for crying in front of his brother that he’d only just met.

Jor thankfully ignored Harry’s emotional breakdown. “Tell me everything.”

So Harry did, rambling and ranting but he got the story out eventually.

“It’s called the mind stone,” Jor said once Harry had to stop talking to catch his breath. “It is what controlled Loki during the Battle of New York.”

“Oh.” Harry had seen images of the Battle of New York when Jarvis had caught him up on the history of the Avengers when he’d first moved into the Tower last summer. And he’d heard about Loki being under someone else’s control, but he hadn’t realized the sceptre had been involved. “That makes sense, that Loki would want to keep that away from Tony.”

“Perhaps,” Jor agreed with a nod.

“How do we get him back? No one is answering their phone,” Harry said, voice tight with anxiety. He couldn’t imagine losing his mother now that he’d only just found him in the first place. Harry loved his Mum. He needed his Mum.

Sighing, Jor gave Harry a look full of sympathy. “I imagine the Avengers won’t be happy with Loki running off with the mind stone. In fact, I wouldn’t be surprised if they’re getting ready to hunt him down.

Harry considered that for a few long moments and then he was forced to come to the conclusion that yes, his mother was a certified Drama Queen, as he’d learned from all the stories Thor and Tony and even Frigga just yesterday had told him about his mother. And Loki would absolutely run off very dramatically to save someone he loved without giving anyone a proper explanation.

“Crap,” Harry said, lowering his head and rubbing a tired hand across his face. “That is why no one is answering their phone. They’re all panicking because Loki ran off with the sceptre.”

“That sounds perfectly plausible, yes,” Jor agreed quietly, with an expression that didn’t seem to know whether is should be full of amusement or worry.

“We have to stop them,” Harry said, sounding more and more hysterical by the second. “We need to talk to someone who can interfere with the Avengers.” At once, Harry knew who they needed on their side. He unlocked his phone, pressed a button and held it up to his ear. “Jarvis, we need your help.”

Chapter Text

Number 32

“Mr Potter, what can I do for you?” Jarvis asked in his customary soothing voice.

“I need to talk to the Avengers,” Harry said as urgently as he could. “My mum has gone off planet with the sceptre because some crazy woman messed with Tony’s head at the hydra base and now he’s worried about Tony hurting himself if he gets his hands on the mind stone.” Harry had to inhale a very deep breath once he’d gotten that out.

“I shall put you through right away.”

The image of a very busy room full of people and lots of computer screens and holograms appeared on Harry’s phone screen. Apparently Harry’s face showed up on their side as well because Bruce stopped doing what he was doing with some keyboard and pointed towards Harry. “There’s Loki!”

Harry glanced over his shoulder, hoping his mother had returned but he only saw Jor standing behind him, peering at Harry’s phone with narrowed eyes.

“Nay,” Thor said at once with a shake of his head. “That is not my brother, but my brother’s son Jormungandr. Hello, Jor.”

“Hello, uncle Thor.” This was said with a healthy dose of sarcasm while Jor wrinkled his nose as though he was suddenly smelling something foul. “How goes the warmongering?”

Thor snorted, apparently amused by Jor’s hostility. “It’s been slow for a while, but it’s just picked up again thanks to Loki.”

“Loki’s trying to save Tony’s life!” Harry shouted, finally getting the attention of everyone in that room. “Some crazy woman with mind-control powers messed with Tony’s mind in the hydra base,” Harry said as quickly yet as clearly as he could.

“Kid, if someone messed with my mind I’d know it,” Tony said, crossing his arms while giving Harry a challenging look.

“As it turns out, Tony just has really crappy taste in men,” Natasha said in a dry tone.

“That is not true,” Harry countered at once, offended by Natasha’s rude remarks. “My mother is trying to save the world by removing himself and the mind stone from it.”

“How do you know about the mind stone?” Fury asked, pushing himself away from the wall he’d been leaning against as he watched Natasha work three computer screens at once.

Jor raised his hand. “I’m here to educate my little brother, so that’s exactly what I’ve been doing.”

“Are you saying Loki left earth?” Bruce asked, pushing his glasses up his nose. “Because if that’s the case it makes sense I’m not getting any readings on the sceptre. I’ve only been scanning earth.”

“Sir,” Jarvis said suddenly, drawing Tony’s attention at once. “I’ve found some footage from the hydra base that you should look at right away.”

Tony gestured vaguely with his hand, which probably gave Jarvis permission because the next thing Harry saw on his screen was an image of Tony in an unfamiliar room approaching the sceptre. Without his knowledge, the crazy mind-controlling woman snuck up behind him and clearly cast some sort of red coloured magic at Tony’s head.

“Son of a bitch,” Tony said, rubbing both hands across his temples the moment he appeared on screen again. “Loki was right after all.” Tony looked at Thor with wide eyes. “How do we get him back?”

“I cannot say,” Thor said with a shake of his head, looking very remorseful all of a sudden. “Loki may have gone to one of dozens of locations hidden amongst the nine realms. Or he may have travelled well beyond that.”

“Shit.” Tony squeezed his eyes shut, clearly battling with himself. Or rather, with whatever thoughts or controls the crazy woman had put in his head. “I owe him a huge apology.”

“I suppose we all do,” Clint said from where he sat in the corner with a pained expression, looking quite pale. “I could have sworn it was just a ploy to get that sceptre again.”

“That might still be Loki’s angle, and he’s just using Maximoff’s actions as a smokescreen,” Natasha suggested but no one seemed to agree with that.

“That’s not true,” Harry said again, glaring at Natasha. He liked her, he really did, but he didn’t appreciate how Natasha always wanted to see the worst in people. Perhaps that was part of her job and everything, but Harry still didn’t appreciate it one bit. “Loki may be a drama queen, but he did all this to save you lot, especially Tony. Now we should get him back!”

“Haraldr,” Thor said solemnly while giving Harry a sad little smile. “I swear I will find Loki myself even if I have to travel around the whole galaxy to do so.”

“You’re leaving, too?” Harry asked in a small voice, a lump suddenly sitting in his throat.

“Unless you happen to have a way to communicate halfway across the galaxy we may not have a choice but to send Thor to find Loki,” Tony pointed out in a sarcastic drawl.

Harry blinked. He remembered something Hermione had told him about how the order communicated. “I have that,” he said, much to his own astonishment. “I can cast a Patronus.” Before anyone could say anything, Harry thrust the phone in Jor’s hands and pulled out his wand. “Here, hold the phone,” he told his brother and then took a few steps back.

Harry had no idea how to use his Patronus as a messenger but he was desperate so he was simply going to try anyway. “Expecto Patronum!” His trusted stag burst from his wand and pranced around once before giving Harry a curious look. “Can you take a message to my mother?” Harry asked his Patronus, who nodded his head in response. “Tell him that Tony’s seen the footage of the mind-control and he believes Loki now. Please, Mum, it’s safe to come home. Please come back.” Harry’s voice did a funny little thing there at the end but Harry didn’t care. He needed his mum back.

The stag pranced off before launching itself into the air and disappearing from view. Harry hoped against hope it would work. Jor handed Harry the phone back and the moment Harry glanced at the screen he noticed Tony’s disbelieving expression.

“I meant something like a long distance communicator, but glow-in-the-dark Bambi works too, sure,” Tony said with a shake of his head. Thor burst out in laughter and smacked Tony on the back so hard Tony almost keeled right over.

“I trust Haraldr and his powers. We shall have my brother among us again soon, I know it.”

“Thanks, Dad,” Harry said, ducking his head. He wasn’t even sure if this would work, but he appreciated his father’s confidence. “And thanks, Jarvis,” Harry added, a little softer.

“Not at all,” Jarvis replied. “I appreciate it immensely that you brought a direct threat to Mr Stark’s health and wellbeing to my attention.”

“Anytime,” Harry said with a smile.

“Likewise.”

Disconnecting his phone, Harry turned to Jor, who had been watching the whole spectacle with a huge grin, as though he was enjoying his favourite show on the telly. “So, how about shapeshifting?”

With a chuckle, Jor launched into the theory behind magical shapeshifting. Harry cast one last, hopeful glance up in the sky before he focused on his brother. Hopefully he’d have his mother back before long.

Chapter Text

Number 33

It took five endless days for Loki to return to earth. Harry kept himself busy with school, which was easier than he thought it might be since the teachers were really upping the amounts of work what with the OWLs fast approaching. Harry did notice that all the magical theory Loki had taught him made it easier for Harry to understand certain aspects of wizarding magic as well.

Harry also spent every morning, from sunrise until breakfast time with Jor at the edge of the lake. Jor was a patient instructor, which was a good thing because all the magical theory he talked about was the most complicated Harry had ever heard. After the first lesson, Harry took to bringing a notebook with him so he could take much needed notes to help him understand everything Jor was trying to teach him.

On Saturday Harry attended Dumbledore’s funeral with the rest of the Hogwarts students. It was a quiet, dignified affair that filled Harry with plenty of opposing emotions. He let them happen and dutifully wrote about it in his journal later that day just like Agatha had told him to do whenever he felt overwhelmed by the things that happened to him.

On Sunday morning, Jor mentioned something entirely unexpected. “I’ve been coming to Hogwarts for centuries,” Jor said after they were finished with their lesson and Harry packed up his bag. “I always enjoyed lurking in the lake and watching the magical people fly on their broomsticks.” Jor got a bit of a sad look on his face as he stared at the castle. “There used to be a great serpent here I sometimes talked to through the tunnels, but I haven’t been able to hear her since I came to meet you, brother.”

Harry froze as he shouldered his bag. Was Jor talking about the basilisk? That was the only great serpent Harry could think of that might ever have lived in or around Hogwarts. And since the murder serpent had been dead for a few years, it made sense Jor couldn’t find her anymore.

“You know something,” Jor said at once while giving Harry a shrewd look.

“Er…” Harry swallowed and contemplated just making a run for it to the castle, knowing that Jor couldn’t follow him thanks to Odin’s spellwork. But that would probably ruin his relationship with his brother and Harry didn’t want to risk that happening. Not now that he finally had a real sibling all of his own. So Harry reminded himself that he was a Gryffindor and squared his shoulders while he gave Jor a smile he hoped was at least a bit apologetic. “Look, the basilisk was trying to kill me. Almost killed me, in fact, because the bloody thing bit me and basilisk venom is highly toxic. So it was self-defence, all right?”

Jor blinked several times as he gave Harry a disbelieving look. “You murdered the serpent?”

“Self-defence!” Harry raised his hand and pointed a finger at Jor in emphasis.

“Tell me everything,” Jor demanded, crossing his arms as he glared down at Harry.

Sighing, Harry dropped his bag to the ground again, knowing he was going to have a late breakfast that morning. At least it was Sunday so he didn’t have to worry about classes. “Okay, so it’s really all Voldemort’s fault,” Harry said and then took his time explaining in detail what had happened during his second year.

By the end of Harry’s story, Jor nodded in agreement. “Yes, you’re right, little brother. That was self-defence. I do pity the serpent. She always sounded so lonely whenever we spoke. She was trapped in the castle just like I am trapped in Midgard’s oceans.”

Swallowing, Harry offered Jor a sympathetic smile. “I’m sorry you lost your friend.”

“I’d rather have a brother than a friend I only talked to every few decades,” Jor said, clearly making an effort to seem cheerful for Harry’s sake. “You did what you had to do.”

Harry still felt a bit bad for a few hours that day, so he wrote about it as well in his diary and that truly seemed to help. Perhaps Agatha really was onto something when she suggested Harry keep a journal.

It wasn’t until Tuesday night that Harry’s phone beeped and woke him up.

Loki’s picture appeared on screen, announcing a text message from him. Harry sat up at once, wide-awake, and grappled for his phone.

Come meet me on top of the highest tower at once.

This time Harry didn’t even bother with shoes or a cloak, but only grabbed his broom and just about threw himself out of the window. He reached the Astronomy Tower in record time, elated to see the tall, slender silhouette standing there waiting for him.

“Mum!” Harry jumped off his broom, uncaring that it clattered to the stone floor, and flung himself at his mother.

Loki returned the embrace just as eagerly and squeezed Harry while burying his face against Harry’s hair. They held each other for a good, long while and Harry basked in the presence of his mother. He never knew you could miss someone that you’d known for less than a year so, so much.

“Don’t you ever do that again,” Harry mumbled against Loki’s shoulder. “Stop being such a drama queen and just talk to people. I had the whole thing solved in ten minutes by communicating with Jarvis.”

Pulling back a little, Loki looked at Harry in a way that made it clear he wasn’t sure he should be angry with Harry or not. Instead he sighed and then gave a tiny nod, slowly letting go of Harry. “I may have acted rashly, Haraldr, but I will never apologize for trying to keep my loved ones safe in the only way I know how.”

“Yeah, okay, but running away to the end of the universe was a bit of an overreaction,” Harry said, unwilling to back down completely. He needed for Loki to understand how much all of this had affected him. Harry had only just found his mother. He couldn’t lose him like that. It would break Harry in ways that could never be mended, he was sure.

Loki stroked his hand against the side of Harry’s face with a smile that was undeniably fond. “I needed to hide the sceptre where none could find it.”

Frowning, Harry considered that. “You’re that worried about the Avengers getting their hands on the mind stone?”

If Loki seemed surprised that Harry knew about the mind stone, he didn’t show it. “There are other, far greater threats that want to find the infinity stones. I had to make sure they couldn’t find this one and as long as it was on earth, no one here would be safe.” Loki’s eyes narrowed as he gave Harry a pointed look. “Including you, my son.”

Ah. That perhaps explained Loki’s rash actions. Loki did have the tendency to go completely overboard when it came to parenting. “Okay,” Harry said with a firm nod, finally understanding why his mother had done what he’d done. Harry could accept acting rashly to keep your loved ones safe. He’d done it often enough himself, after all.

“I have something for you.” Loki reached out to nothing at all, twisted his hand around once, and suddenly a black stone lay on his palm. “This used to be one of Voldemort’s soul containers. I was able to banish the soul without destroying it. This stone has powers of its own.”

Harry peered curiously at it, unsure what Loki was getting at. “What sort of powers?”

Loki got a rather wicked grin on his face. “It lets you communicate with the dead.”

“What?” Harry yelped, actually taking a step back. That sounded outright dangerous.

“It’s safe, Haraldr,” Loki said as though reading his son’s mind. “I’ve studied and tested it myself.” Loki’s expression softened and he gently took Harry’s hand in his own and pressed the stone against Harry’s palm. “I thought perhaps you’d like to talk to James and Lily Potter, ask them whatever questions you’d like answered.”

A sudden lump appeared in Harry’s throat at the thought of speaking to his adoptive parents. Loki was right that Harry was left with many questions and uncertainties when it came to the first year of his life after Odin had dumped him on earth.

“Hold the stone and turn it three times while thinking strongly of those you wish to see,” Loki whispered while Harry carefully examined the dark stone. “When not using it, you should keep it in a pocket dimension so it won’t fall into the wrong hands.”

“I don’t know how to make one of those,” Harry muttered, wondering what sort of villains might like to get their hands on a stone that let you talk to dead people. Probably not the nice kind of villain, if such a thing even existed.

“I’ll show you.” And over the next hour, Loki taught Harry how to open up a small portal to a new, very small dimension where Harry could store important things that he needed quick access to.

“This is so useful,” Harry said with a bright grin as he finally mastered the magic. “I can keep my invisibility cloak in here, and probably even my broom. Those are such useful items to always have on hand.”

“Certainly,” Loki agreed and then pulled Harry into an unexpected hug. “I must be on my way, Haraldr, to make amends with Tony and the others.”

“They know why you did it,” Harry assured his mother, hugging him back with all his might. “They’ll understand.” Harry hoped with all his might that they would, because he didn’t want to see his family fighting. Because that is what the Avengers were, Harry realized that now. Thor and Loki might be his parents, but the rest of the Avengers and their closest allies had become Harry’s family without him even realizing.

“I will call you tomorrow, to let you know how it went,” Loki said, stepping back from Harry and giving him one last reassuring smile before disappearing without a sound.

Harry stood staring into the darkness for a while longer, basking in the feeling of relief that his mother was safe and sound and on his way to the rest of Harry’s family. Then he noticed the small weight of the stone that rested inside his fist. Perhaps now was the right time to talk to the other family Harry had once had.

Inhaling a deep breath, Harry opened his hand and stared at the stone, trepidation making him tremble just a bit. Still, he was no coward so he turned the stone around three times while thinking about James and Lily Potter as hard as he could while he squeezed his eyes shut.

“Hello, Harry,” the voice of a man sounded in front of him, quickly followed by the voice of a woman. “Harry, sweetheart, it is so good to see you.”

Harry’s eyes got a bit misty as he looked at the two people he’d considered his only parents for many years. They resembled ghosts more than anything else as they hovered in front of him. “Hi.” Harry swallowed and briefly looked down at his shoes. He had no clue how to talk about any of this, so he decided to just blurt it out. “Did you know I was adopted or did you get your brains scrambled by a Norse god?”

James threw his head back and laughed while Lily shook her head, her eyes full of joy. “We knew, Harry,” Lily said and then frowned. “Though I can’t remember exactly how we got you, we knew that we adopted you.”

“I got hit by a nasty infertility curse during a scuffle with some Death Eaters,” James explained after he’d calmed down again, though his entire face still shone with mirth. “That is why we were eager to adopt you when we could.”

A weight fell off his shoulders that Harry hadn’t even realized had been bearing down on him in the past. His first parents had truly wanted him. They hadn’t been tricked to die for a child they hadn’t even realized hadn’t been their own. “I’m glad to hear that,” Harry mumbled as he gave James and Lily a watery smile. He shuffled over to the edge and sat down on it, getting as comfortable as possible, seeing as he was only wearing pyjamas and it was a rather chilly night. Still, the cold didn’t really bother Harry as much as it should, and Harry wondered if that was because of his heritage.

“Did you know I’m half a Jotun?” Harry asked with a grin as he stared eagerly up at his adoptive parents.

“No,” James said, leaning a little closer. “I don’t even know what that is. Do enlighten us.”

And Harry inhaled a deep breath and told James and Lily what he knew about himself and about his birth parents. James and Lily seemed more than happy to listen to Harry talk. They proclaimed they were proud of him more than once, which filled Harry with a warm glow. It was nice to add two more people to his extended family, Harry decided, even if they were technically dead.

Chapter Text

Number 34

It was rather remarkable how easy life became at Hogwarts for Harry now that both Voldemort and Dumbledore were gone. Even the Ministry stopped slandering Harry at every turn, which meant that a large part of the students who’d been shunning him that year also seemed to lose interest in Harry’s comings and goings.

In fact, Harry couldn’t recall ever having felt so at peace before, not just in Hogwarts, but in general. Harry attended classes, spent time with his friends, went to meet Jor every morning, chatted with his parents on his phone, texted with Bucky and Clint and Tony and he enjoyed playing Quidditch again after the previous year’s hiatus.

Dumbledore’s sudden demise and Snape’s arrest had caused quite a bit of chaos for the remaining staff. Potions classes were cancelled for a whole week until a man named Horace Slughorn took over teaching Harry’s least favourite subject. Slughorn was nice enough, certainly a sight better than Snape, but he kept inviting Harry to dinner parties which Harry kept expertly evading.

McGonagall became the new headmistress, but since she couldn’t find a replacement on such short notice she still kept teaching Transfiguration. At least Flitwick took over her responsibilities as Deputy Headmaster.

As it turned out, McGonagall also kept her job as Head of Gryffindor House for the time being, until a suitable replacement for that role could be found. Harry didn’t realize this until one evening in February when McGonagall showed up in the common room, something she rarely did.

“Since I am still your Head of House and I know you best,” McGonagall said as she stood in front of the fireplace, “I shall be having private meetings with all fifth year students to discuss your choices of NEWT classes and to give you career advice. The times for each individual meeting are posted on the announcement board.” And with that, McGonagall turned around and marched straight back out of the common room again, looking more than a bit harried.

“We’re still going to become Aurors, right?” Ron asked as he gave Harry a hopeful look.

“Er…” Harry’s throat was suddenly bone-dry and he swallowed a few times before he could speak again. “I’m not sure, actually.”

“What do you mean?” Ron leaned forwards in his seat as he stared at Harry with narrowed eyes. “We agreed to that last year, remember?”

“Last year I didn’t know I had a family,” Harry said with a helpless shrug. “Who all live in New York.”

“You want to move to America after your NEWTs?” Hermione asked, sounding just as shocked as Ron looked.

“Well, yeah.” Harry looked between his best friends, willing them to understand how important this was for him. “I like living with my family and I’m sure Tony will give me my own suite once I’m an adult, so I don’t have to keep living with my parents.”

“But what will you do for a living?” Hermione asked while Ron kept opening and closing his mouth without saying a word.

“Dunno.” Harry had ideas but he’d yet to discuss those with the relevant people. He was still only fifteen. He didn’t have to decide on the rest of his life right there and then. “I’ve got time to choose something.”

Huffing, Hermione shook her head. “It’s important that you at least have some idea what you want to do, Harry. How else will you pick your NEWT classes?”

What did NEWTs matter when Harry had his mother to teach him all the magic he wanted? Not to mention his grandmother and his brother were also instructing him on specific branches of magic, things one couldn’t even learn in the wizarding world.

Fuck, the more Harry thought about it, the more he realized that his future wasn’t in the wizarding world at all.

Technically he wasn’t even a wizard. He wasn’t even human. He was a mix of Jotun and Aesir, able to perform magic witches and wizard could only dream of. Well, once he’d studied and learned those kinds of magic, of course. But the point was that Harry didn’t even really belong in the wizarding world, no matter that he loved it and enjoyed spending time in it.

Hermione must have come to a similar conclusion because her face suddenly paled while she looked at Harry with wide, worried eyes. “You’ll still visit us, right?”

“Of course,” Harry said at once, meaning that with all his heart. “There’s plenty of ways to stay in touch. There’s portkeys and airplanes. And I can ask Tony to make some more mobile phones that will work around magic so we can call each other as often as we like.”

“I suppose,” Ron mumbled, still not looking entirely pleased with Harry’s new plans.

“Ron,” Harry said as he gave Ron an urgent look. “I’m finally free, mate. Before, there was always the threat of Voldemort wanting to do me in, and Dumbledore telling me I had to go back to the Dursleys. I was never free to choose what I wanted to do or where I wanted to go.”

“No, I get it,” Ron said quickly while giving Harry a brave smile. His face was still far too pale, though, his freckles standing out in the light of the burning fireplace. “And I’m happy for you, Harry, I really am. I just realized that this,” Ron gestured between the three of them, “won’t always be the same. Takes some getting used to.”

“Yeah, it does,” Harry agreed quietly. Things changed. There was little anyone could do to stop it. Agatha would probably say that was a natural part of growing up. “But I promise I will stay in touch.” And Harry would. He loved Ron and Hermione far too much not to.

Harry’s appointment with McGonagall was scheduled for late afternoon a few days later, in her old office she’d used for the last few decades.

“Mr Potter,” McGonagall said as Harry sat down in front of her desk. “Your grades are quite stable overall. History and Divination could use some work, but I doubt you’ll be interested in taking those at NEWT level.”

“Not really, no,” Harry said with a chuckle.

McGonagall gave Harry a measured look as she folded her hands on top of the paperwork in front of her. “Do you have any idea already what sort of job you’d like to do in the future? I heard a rumour last year you wanted to be an Auror, is that right?”

“Er…” Harry sat up a little, reminding himself he was entitled to choose his own lot in life and that others couldn’t demand anything of him. “Not anymore. I want to be an Avenger.”

McGonagall blinked, pursing her lips. “A what?”

“An Avenger,” Harry said with obvious pride in his voice. “My parents, and the rest of my extended family, are all Avengers. I’d like to join them when I’m old enough.”

“You are talking about the muggles you’ve lived with this past year,” McGonagall said slowly, voice full of disbelief.

“My parents aren’t muggles, but the rest of them are, sure,” Harry explained patiently, giving McGonagall a polite little smile while wondering how she could be so ignorant. McGonagall visited muggleborn students regularly. She must have heard of the Avengers at some point.

“Mr Potter, the Statute of Secrecy forbids you to use magic around muggles.” McGonagall narrowed her eyes and gave Harry perhaps her sternest look yet.

Harry blinked. Wizards were forbidden to use their magic around muggles, that was true. But Harry wasn’t a wizard. He wasn’t even human. And Loki used magic out in the open all the time during Avengers missions and no one, not even MACUSA, cared one whiff about that.

At once Harry knew what he had to do, no matter that it caused a sharp sting of grief to shoot through his chest.

It was time.

“Professor,” Harry said, giving McGonagall a level look. “I’d like to inform you that I won’t return to Hogwarts for my sixth or seventh year. I’ll sit my OWLs, but after that I’ll permanently move to New York.”

McGonagall sat up and sputtered. “Mr Potter, think about what you are saying.”

“I am very sure.” And Harry was. He wanted to sit his OWLs because that meant he could officially do magic in the wizarding world and he could keep his wand. But he didn’t need the wizarding world to do magic, plain and simple. And he was sure he could always hire tutors to help him to study for his NEWTs at home and take those privately in the USA.

Voldemort was gone, Harry wasn’t even a wizard, and there was no reason why he had to keep attending Hogwarts. Yes, Harry loved the school and he loved Ron and Hermione, but those were not enough to keep Harry tied to his old life when he knew his future lay in a completely different country with completely different people.

McGonagall was speechless for a few long moments before she finally nodded. “I suppose I can understand that you’d like to spend more time with your family.” Which was more than Harry had honestly expected her to ever say. “Well, if you’re sure than this meeting has come to a premature end.”

“I’m sure,” Harry said and pushed his chair back. “Thanks, Professor.”

“I wish you all the best, Mr Potter.” McGonagall gave him a tight little smile before waving him out of her office.

As Harry stepped out into the corridor, he released a deep breath, barely able to believe what he’d just done.

He’d quit Hogwarts.

He’d actually made a choice for himself. Agatha was going to be so happy. And Loki would be, too, Harry was sure.

Squeezing his eyes shut, Harry hung his head. How on earth was he going to explain this to Ron and Hermione?

Chapter Text

Number 35

Harry did not consider himself a coward, yet he had to admit that for the days after his meeting with McGonagall he did act like a coward, at least a little bit.

He did not tell Ron and Hermione about the decision he’d made.

Harry tried to, several times, but every time he did the words got stuck in his throat somewhere and he eventually gave up trying. It was one thing to tell his friends that one day in the distant future he’d be moving to New York permanently. But it was another thing altogether to tell them Harry was leaving them for good by the end of the school year.

The whole blasted issue weighed heavily on Harry’s mind and when even writing about it in his journal didn’t help he texted Bucky about it. Bucky was usually calm and level-headed and capable of understanding what sort of relationship Harry had with Ron and Hermione, because Bucky had a similar relationship with Steve. They were more than friends, something closer to brothers, who’d been by each other’s side through thick and thin. Rather like Harry and his friends in many ways, except where Bucky and Steve had fought side by side in World War Two, Harry and his friends had found themselves defying Voldemort’s latest schemes more than once.

Spending time together in mortal peril created bonds that were much closer than any sort of casual friendship, Harry was sure.

As expected, Bucky cut right to the chase when Harry texted him what was going on.

Bucky: what are you really afraid of?

Harry: Dunno. Worried I’ll lose them I guess

Bucky: if theyre your friends you wont lose them

Harry: I suppose. Still worried though. What if they hate me?

Bucky: then theyre morons. youre very likable

Harry: haha, thnx. Going to bed now.

Bucky: just tell them!!!!

Harry: soon. Promise. Night!

Bucky: sleep tight

Unfortunately, Bucky’s impromptu pep talk wasn’t quite enough to give Harry the courage to share the news just yet. They had a Hogsmeade weekend coming up and Harry figured he didn’t want to spoil that for himself and his friends by dropping the bomb right before their day off in the village. He told Bucky as much the next day when the man asked if Harry had bit the bullet yet. When Harry confessed his plan to wait until after the weekend, Bucky had been surprisingly brief and dismissive in his response. Harry wondered if Bucky was having a bad day, which still happened to him from time to time, even though on the whole Bucky was doing far better than he had in a long time.

As Harry walked down to Hogsmeade with Ron and Hermione he felt a certain sense of melancholia. This wasn’t the final Hogsmeade weekend of the year, as it was only the end of February, but since Harry had made his decision he noticed that it often felt as though he was already saying goodbye to the things around him. Walking down the cobblestone path through the gates of Hogwarts certainly gave Harry a feeling as though he should be taking everything in with all his senses, lest he forget it in the years to come.

Harry was so focused on greedily drinking in every detail of his trek to Hogsmeade that he almost missed the broad, tall figure standing in the middle of the street right at the beginning of Hogsmeade.

“Who is that?” Ron asked, eyes widening as he took in the imposing figure in a leather jacket.

“Huh.” Harry blinked a few times to make sure he wasn’t seeing things. “That’s Bucky.”

“Bucky?” Hermione asked, giving Harry a confused look. “You mean Bucky Barnes? The Winter Soldier?”

“That’s the one,” Harry said, quickening his pace a little while giving Bucky a huge grin. It was really good to see his friend again, even if it had only been barely two months since they’d last seen each other in the flesh. “Hi!”

“Hey.” Bucky offered Harry a lopsided smile and pulled him in a quick hug. While pressing his face against Harry’s head, Bucky whispered, “I figured I’d come give you some moral support for your talk with your friends.”

“You know this guy?” Ron asked Hermione while looking between his two best friends. “I know Harry talks about him,” Ron quickly explained when Hermione gave him a disbelieving look, “but I hadn’t realized you knew him as well.”

“Know of him,” Hermione corrected while she rolled her eyes. “He’s part of the Avengers.”

“Not officially,” Bucky said, releasing a rather flustered Harry. “I join up with them from time to time on certain missions but I haven’t quite been cleared yet to work full-time.”

“How come?” Ron asked with all his usual tact.

Bucky gave Ron a level stare. “Because I was brainwashed for seventy years while the enemy used me as an assassin. I’m still learning not to kill people willy nilly.”

Ron ducked his head, cheeks flushing while Harry couldn’t bite back a burst of laughter.

Harry could hardly believe Bucky was there, out in the open. In the past Bucky had snuck into Hogwarts plenty of time to check up on Harry, mostly because Loki asked him to, but Bucky always made sure he wasn’t seen by anyone, even Harry, during those trips. But here Bucky was, standing in the middle of the street where everyone could see him, and he seemed perfectly at ease doing so.

Bucky really had been making a lot of progress, Harry thought with a warm flush that coursed through his entire body before making his cheeks heat up. “It’s good to see you,” Harry said, because he wanted Bucky to know he really was happy to see his friend. “I’m glad you came.”

“Sure,” Bucky grunted, sticking his hands in his pockets while giving a stiff little shrug. “Anytime.”

Now that Bucky was here, Harry really had no more excuses to postpone his talk with Ron and Hermione. He was well aware of that. With a sigh, Harry turned to look at his oldest friends. “How about we go get some butterbeer in the Three Broomsticks? My treat.”

“Is something wrong?” Hermione asked, narrowing her eyes as she stared at Harry. She always had been quite perceptive, after all.

“Let’s go to the Three Broomsticks first.” Harry gestured for everyone to follow him and Bucky immediately fell into step with him while Ron and Hermione hurried after them. Students around them gave Bucky curious looks, since he was tall and broad and obviously dressed like a muggle. Bucky’s ever-present scowl, or ‘resting bitch face’ as Tony liked to call it, kept anyone from approaching them, though.

The pub wasn’t too crowded yet since it was early still, and Harry had no trouble securing them a quiet table in the back. He quickly went to the bar and brought back four warm mugs of butterbeer.

“What did you want to talk about?” Hermione asked after they’d all taken a sip of their mugs.

Harry cast a quick glance at Bucky, who only nodded in response, before he focused his attention on Hermione. “During my career talk with McGonagall I’ve told her I was withdrawing from Hogwarts starting next year,” Harry blurted while his shoulders tightened with tension.

Hermione, as expected, didn’t look very surprised, but Ron puffed up with obvious anger. “Harry! You can’t do that, mate!”

“Yeah, I can.” Harry gave Ron a sympathetic look, understanding perfectly why Ron would feel rather peeved about the whole thing.

“But what about Quidditch?” Ron asked helplessly, face going through all sorts of expressions ranging from grief to betrayal.

“Really?” Hermione turned in her seat to glare at Ron. “Harry’s moving away forever and you’re worried about Quidditch?”

Harry shared an amused little smile with Bucky while Hermione and Ron bickered for a few minutes about whether or not Ron was an insensitive lout by prioritizing Quidditch. Harry honestly didn’t think so, but Hermione had plenty of arguments ready to prove him wrong.

Eventually they got back on topic, though, and Ron looked absolutely miserable as he stared at Harry. “I suppose Hogwarts has lost its novelty and you’re now ready to move on to more interesting things.”

Sighing, Harry shook his head. He did not want to hurt Ron and Hermione in any way, but he knew he had to take care of himself first. Too long Harry had prioritized others over himself, which wasn’t healthy in the long run. “Ron, I’m not even a wizard.”

“Whut?” Ron’s eyes widened as his mouth dropped open.

“I only ended up in the wizarding world because I’ve got a grandfather who kidnapped me and dumped me on James and Lily Potter’s laps,” Harry said, trying not to sound too callous. “I love the wizarding world, I really do, but I don’t belong here. Not really. It’s time for me to live with my own people.”

Hermione nodded in understanding, though she also looked like was suddenly overcome with grief. “I understand, Harry. I don’t like it, but I understand.” She gave Harry a wobbly smile. “Just promise you’ll stay in touch.”

“I promise,” Harry said quickly. “I’ve already got Tony to agree to make a few more phones we can use.”

“I get it,” Ron finally said, gaze fixed on the table. “I really don’t like it, but I get it. I just…” Without saying another word, Ron got up from the table and walked away.

For a few moments, Hermione looked torn about what to do, so Harry waved her away. “Go, keep him company. I’ve got Bucky.” That was enough for Hermione to jump up and hurry after Ron.

“That went well,” Bucky said while he looked at the two abandoned mugs of butterbeer.

“Actually, that went a lot better than I’d expected,” Harry replied while giving Bucky a cheerful smile. “Ron looked like he’ll come around soon enough, and that’s more than he managed last year when my name came out of the Goblet of Fire and he shunned me for weeks and weeks.”

Bucky looked like he had a few things to say about that, but in the end he just shook his head and sipped his mug. “This stuff’s pretty good.”

“Yeah,” Harry sighed and drained his own mug. “I’m going to miss it.” Having Bucky there had been a huge help, Harry realized. Even though Bucky hadn’t interfered, he’d still been a quiet strength sitting right beside Harry and that had made all the difference in the end. “Thanks again for coming. I really appreciate it.”

Bucky finished his own butterbeer with a large gulp and gave Harry an expectant look. “How about you show me around town? I’ve only ever been here at night and all the stores were closed then.”

“Sure!” Harry jumped up, suddenly full of nervous flutters at the idea of spending the day with Bucky in Hogsmeade, almost as though they were on a date. But that was absurd, Harry quickly told himself. They were friends. Very good friends, who supported each other when the other needed it. And that was more than enough for Harry.

They visited just about every shop in town and Bucky took it all in with his usual scowl, which still kept everyone at bay. There were plenty of students who gave Harry and his strange companion curious looks but none dared approach them, which was fine by Harry. Bucky enjoyed Honeydukes the most, Harry was sure, and even let Harry buy him an assortment of chocolate bars to take home with him. They shared one bar between them as they wandered around the busy streets.

“How did you even get here so quickly?” Harry asked right before they entered the Three Broomsticks again, now to have lunch.

“Took a Quinjet,” Bucky said without a hint of concern. “I wasn’t officially given leave to do so, but I figured it was better to ask for forgiveness than for permission.” Bucky shrugged and then gave Harry a brief but razor sharp grin. “Besides, I’ll just tell your mother I came here to assist you and he’ll make sure Tony doesn’t crawl up my ass about it.”

Chuckling, Harry shook his head and looked up at Bucky with incredible fondness. In some ways it was really strange to have Bucky there, in the flesh, sharing Harry’s life in the wizarding world with him if only for a day. But on the other hand Harry was immensely grateful and happy that he could share Hogsmeade with Bucky. Spending the day with him like that was more fun than Harry could have imagined, even though Bucky was in many ways the strong, silent type who preferred to let Harry do most of the talking.

As they sat down for a lunch of shepherd’s pie, Harry gave Bucky an uncertain look. “If you don’t get into too much trouble for nicking the Quinjet, maybe you can do it again next month for our next Hogsmeade weekend.”

“Sure,” Bucky agreed easily enough, but Harry could tell by the warmth in his eyes that Bucky seemed genuinely pleased with Harry’s invitation. “But we’ve still got the afternoon here.”

“We’ll walk to the Shrieking Shack after lunch,” Harry said while giving Bucky an eager look. Sharing all the things you liked with someone you liked was a really nice experience as it turned out. “People think it’s haunted because they heard lots of strange noises coming from it in the past, but that was just a werewolf student who transformed there every full moon.”

Bucky quirked a single eyebrow before nodding. “Sounds like fun.”

“Yeah,” Harry agreed, basking in the warm glow that hadn’t really left him ever since Bucky had shown up. He might be losing Ron and Hermione in a way, but he got people like Bucky for it in return, and Harry figured that it was a pretty good exchange in the end.

Chapter Text

Number 36

That evening Harry sat on his bed in Gryffindor Tower, curtains closed tightly, and he called his mother.

Loki answered the phone and it was immediately apparent he wasn’t alone, because Tony’s face hovered right behind Loki’s.

“Hi!” Harry gave his mother and Tony a little wave.

“Did you tell Barnes to come visit you?” Tony demanded, though his eyes sparkled with humour. “Steve’s been moping around the tower for hours, claiming you stole his BFF.”

Harry rolled his eyes and released a small sigh. “Honestly. Bucky came over to offer me some support. He’s on his way back, should be there soon enough.”

“Support for what?” Loki asked, green eyes narrowing in suspicion.

“Nothing bad,” Harry replied at once, knowing full well that his mother was the kind of person who always saw the worst in any kind of situation. “Actually, I think you’ll enjoy this bit of news.”

“Oh?” Loki looked downright intrigued, eyebrows drawn up all the way. “Do tell.”

“I had career advice with McGonagall, and I realized that I really don’t belong at Hogwarts.” Harry inhaled a deep breath and then gave his mother a wide grin. The more he talked about his decision to leave his old life behind, the more it felt like a relief to do so. “And I told her I won’t be back next year. I’ll sit my OWLs this year, but that’s all.”

“Good for you, kid,” Tony said with an approving grin. He gave Harry a deep nod, one arm resting around Loki’s shoulder as he hovered behind him.

“Haraldr, I cannot tell you how pleased I am to hear that,” Loki finally said quietly and rather diplomatically. Harry suspected that Loki might like to use stronger language to voice his enthusiasm and delight for Harry’s choice, but he obviously didn’t want to scare Harry into retracting his decision and staying at Hogwarts anyway.

Harry shrugged, suddenly feeling a bit shy, though he knew there was no reason to. This was his mother and his boyfriend, both people Harry trusted with his life. “Yeah, it took me a while to realize I’m not even a wizard at all. Jor helped with that, actually.”

“I am so very pleased you and your brother are getting along so well,” Loki whispered, the sharp look on his face softening considerably.

“We’ve got some news, too,” Tony said when no one else talked for a few moments. “All the wicked witches are going on trial soon. They’re being charged with various counts of terrorism and attempted murder and a few other things.”

“Are they only going to go on trial in the muggle world?” Harry asked with a frown. Something occurred to him then, something that he should have thought of sooner. “Or are they going to be extradited to the wizarding world at some point?”

Tony gave Harry a look as though he’d just asked a very silly question. “Send those assholes back to the courts that let them off the hook in the first place? Please.” Tony wrinkled his nose as though he suddenly smelled something particularly foul.

Tony had a point, Harry knew all too well. People like Lucius Malfoy and others like him had bought their way out of custody far too often in the past. But there was one prisoner that could help save someone’s life. “Yeah, okay, you’re right.” Harry held his phone a little closer and gave both Loki and Tony his most earnest look. “But it would be a very good thing if Peter Pettigrew could be extradited back to the British wizarding world.”

“Why?” Tony quirked an eyebrow in a silent challenge.

“Because he’s the only one who can prove Sirius is an innocent man,” Harry whispered, keeping a careful eye on his mother.

Loki did not disappoint with his reaction. “Are you speaking of that heinous man who tried to keep you locked up over the holidays?” he all but snarled, lips drawn back from his teeth.

Sighing, Harry shook his head. His recent talk with James and Lily had reminded him that Sirius Black had been a decent enough man once upon a time, before the dementors ravaged his mind. And while Harry was still more than a little heartbroken that Sirius had turned on him like that, Harry also still wanted Sirius to get an actual trial and be exonerated of the crimes he didn’t commit. “He spent twelve years in Azkaban surrounded by soul-sucking monsters, Mum. He’s suffered enough. Perhaps if he can get his freedom back he’ll finally be able to actually start healing properly.”

Loki pursed his lips and looked to the side with a very disapproving frown on his face. “Sometimes, Haraldr, you take far too much after your father. Thor can also be frightfully naive and far too forgiving.”

Harry kept quiet because he didn’t think he was being naive or too forgiving at all. He understood why Loki would have a problem with Sirius Black, but Harry wouldn’t let that stop him from helping someone that desperately needed help. “Please,” Harry said, eyes wide as he glanced between Loki and Tony.

Tony seemed a lot calmer than his mother, Harry was happy to note. “Who should we send him to in the wizarding world, seeing as more than half of their ministry is hopelessly corrupt?”

“Er…” Harry quickly considered his options. Fudge was out, for obvious reasons. And simply sending Pettigrew to the Department of Law Enforcement might not work either. Who knew how many Voldemort sympathizers worked there, who might want to help Pettigrew escape the first chance they got. “Probably the Head of the Department of Law Enforcement. Amelia Bones. From what I know of her, she’s not corrupt at all.”

“We have a contact at MACUSA, who can get in touch with the Ministry across the pond,” Tony said, already looking bored with the whole situation. “They can set up a prisoner transfer, after Pettigrew has stood trial here.”

“Thank you,” Harry said, giving Tony his best heartfelt smile. Loki still sported a bit of a sour expression but at least he wasn’t verbally protesting anymore. That was something, Harry supposed.

Suddenly, Tony glanced up, attention focussed on something in the far end of the room. “Looks like Bucky bear returned in one piece.”

A relieved breath escaped Harry’s lips before he could stop it. He knew Bucky was an excellent flyer who could take care of himself, but Harry also knew that Bucky still had plenty of enemies around the world who’d love to get their rotten hands on him. So yeah, Harry was very happy to hear Bucky had made it home in one piece. “Oh, just so you know,” Harry said quickly, almost tripping over his words. “I invited Bucky to come to my future Hogsmeade days, so he’ll need that Quinjet again next month.”

Tony’s face did a few very interesting things, his mouth falling open while his eyes brightened considerably. “Did you ask Bucky out on some dates?” Tony’s voice was rather high-pitched and full of glee. “Wait until Steve hears about this!”

“What? No!” Harry’s whole face suddenly felt like it had been doused in gasoline and someone had just lit a match in front of him.

Loki blinked, and then blinked again while he stared at Harry in utter disbelief. “I beg your pardon? Haraldr, what are you doing? You are a child!”

“Oh, the connection is really bad,” Harry yelled, heart hammering in his chest while his whole body flushed with sheer adrenaline. “I’m losing you… too much magic… bye!” And Harry quickly swiped the screen, ending the call, his fingers trembling.

As he stared at the black screen he wasn’t even sure why he’d reacted like that. It wasn’t as if any of those things were true. Tony just liked to tease him.

Bucky was his friend and friends could hang out as much as they liked. Even if that meant flying across the Atlantic ocean to do so. That meant nothing, Harry was certain. Nothing at all.

Chapter Text

Number 37

Harry was very surprised, and a bit worried, when he received a summons to go see Headmistress McGonagall in her office two weeks after Dumbledore’s funeral.

“Mr Potter,” McGonagall said as she stood behind the large desk in the circular office. She looked more than a bit harried, as she had done ever since Dumbledore’s unexpected demise. “Thank you for coming.”

“Is something wrong?” Harry asked, taking a few hesitant steps further into the office.

“Not at all,” McGonagall said quickly. She waved Harry a bit closer still and then held out a small bundle wrapped in brown paper. “Headmaster Dumbledore left these for you. I’ve been able to keep them out of the Ministry’s hands. I suggest you make a similar effort, to ensure as few people as possible know you have this.”

Feeling more than a bit apprehensive, Harry accepted the package with a small nod of understanding. Harry wanted nothing further to do with Dumbledore, if he was being honest, especially now that he’d made the decision to leave Hogwarts for good at the end of the schoolyear. But Harry was a curious fellow, and he couldn’t help but be intrigued about what the old headmaster might have left him.

After a quick goodbye, Harry hurried out of the office. He slipped behind a tapestry a little further up the corridor, that concealed a hidden passageway that led to the ground floor. Inside the dark passageway, Harry lit his wand and sat down on the dusty floor. He ripped the paper away to reveal a book, an envelope and a wand.

Dumbledore’s wand. Harry recognized it at once.

The book was titled The Tales of Beedle the Bard, which Harry had never heard of, but which seemed to be full of children’s stories.

And the envelope held a letter written in Dumbledore’s loopy handwriting. Harry read it with a frown while he bit his bottom lip. The letter was full of Dumbledore’s subtle and not so subtle manipulations to make sure Harry would drop everything and spent his every waking hour hunting Voldemort down.

It even spoke of a prophecy that had been uttered by Trelawney of all people, that predicted that Harry would be the one to vanquish Voldemort once and for all. The wording of the actual prophecy, which Dumbledore had written down, was incredibly wishy washy.

It also spoke of horcruxes, which were soul containers to give a person the illusion of an immortal life. Dumbledore suggested Harry get in touch with a man named Horace Slughorn to find out how many horcruxes Voldemort had made, and thus how many needed to be destroyed. Apparently the diary Harry had destroyed in his second life had indeed been a horcrux, as he’d already suspected.

So that was Dumbledore’s grand plan. Give a fifteen-year-old a posthumous letter with unclear and insufficient instructions and hope for the best. Yeah, Harry had no intention of doing anything Dumbledore suggested he’d do. He was just a teenager, for fuck’s sake. Not to mention that the whole thing was a moot point anyway, because Voldemort was already dead and gone. For good, because Loki wouldn’t settle for anything less than that.

Harry folded the letter back up with a sigh. He understood why Dumbledore had left him this letter, obviously written to be given to him in case Dumbledore died suddenly without having been able to instruct Harry on how to vanquish Voldemort, as though that was his job in the first place. But Harry couldn’t for the life of him understand why Dumbledore would leave Harry his wand and a book of children’s stories.

For a moment, Harry was tempted to show the items to Ron and Hermione, but after some consideration, he decided not to. Ron and Hermione were just a bunch of teenagers as well, who deserved to lead their own lives from now on without getting caught up in another one of Dumbledore’s manipulative schemes.

Besides, Harry had enough other people in his life he could ask for help should he need it. Adult people, even.

So Harry tucked the letter and the wand away and took the book with him back to Gryffindor Tower. That evening, as he was lying in bed with his curtains closed, Harry read some of the stories in the book. Most of them were vaguely amusing tales which would undoubtedly be of interest to young children. But to someone of Harry’s age they were a bit boring.

That was, until he got to the story titled The Tale of the Three Brothers. Harry’s breath got caught in his throat as he read about the brother who received a stone from Death that could summon the souls of his deceased loved ones. Rather like the stone Harry had used to speak to his adoptive parents who’d been dead for a decade and a half. And then the next brother got an invisibility cloak, much like the one passed down in Harry’s family and which Harry eagerly used to sneak around Hogwarts. Suddenly, the all-powerful wand the first brother had received also became suspicious, and Harry gave Dumbledore’s wand which lay on his nightstand a narrow-eyed look.

Harry wasn’t stupid. Though he usually didn’t believe in fairy tales, he knew that magic was real, as were really powerful aliens (he was one himself, after all) and who knew what other kind of strange powers.

So the idea of Death giving away a few magical artifacts wasn’t nearly as far-fetched as most people might think.

Slapping the book shut, Harry grabbed the stone and Dumbledore’s wand from his nightstand and pulled the invisibility cloak from his bag. He placed them all together in his lap. These might be the exact items that silly little story was talking about. But what did it mean? And what did Dumbledore hope Harry would achieve by having these items? Because Dumbledore wanted Harry to learn about them, otherwise he wouldn’t have left him a book with that exact story in it.

Harry spent a long while staring at the items in his lap, fingering the stone, letting the cloak slip over his hands and caressing the wand with his fingers. Eventually, Harry was forced to conclude that no matter how long he contemplated the issue, he had no idea what these items truly meant and why Dumbledore wanted Harry to have them.

With a defeated sigh, Harry placed them all in his bookbag and curled up under the covers for some much needed sleep.

The next morning, as Harry woke up at the crack of dawn for one of his meetings with Jor, he decided to take the items with him to show to his brother. Jor might be familiar with them, or might know of someone who’d be able to tell Harry more.

Harry crossed the lawn and made it to the treeline, but before he reached the area where he always met his brother, Harry was intercepted by someone he’d never seen before. It was a pale woman, completely bald. She was wearing yellow robes and around her neck hung a large golden amulet with a green stone hidden away inside of it.

“Harry Potter,” the woman said as she stepped directly in Harry’s path. “I’d like a word with you.”

Harry stopped at once, giving the woman a wary look while he frantically tried to think of what to do. It was early still, so he was all alone on the Hogwarts grounds. And he was still a fair distance away from the lake, so Jor couldn’t come to his rescue either.

“Hello,” Harry said slowly, carefully. It didn’t hurt to be polite, he reasoned. At the very least it would buy him some time to figure out if he could beat this woman with magic or not. “I don’t believe we’ve met.”

“I am called the Ancient One,” the woman said with a reassuring smile. “I mean you no harm, Harry. I just wish to talk to you about the stone in your possession.”

Fuck. Already there was some sort of villain come to steal that stone from Harry. “What stone?” Harry asked, keeping his face as blank as possible.

“The one that allows you to talk to your dead loved ones.” The Ancient One quickly held up a hand when she noticed the dark look on Harry’s face. “I have no personal interest in it, I assure you. But you need to understand what it is that you have in your possession.”

Harry was sure the Ancient One was speaking the truth, but he wasn’t quite willing yet to trust her. So he continued to act like had no idea what she was talking about and gave a disinterested shrug. “You can tell me anything you like.”

“Are you familiar with Infinity Stones, Harry?” The Ancient One raised both her eyebrows as she gave Harry an expectant look.

Harry’s heart started beating faster and faster. This woman was now getting into seriously dangerous territory. “Perhaps,” he said, imagining what Natasha might do or say in such a situation. Confirm nothing, buy time and try to get as much information as you can.

That seemed enough confirmation for the Ancient One and she gave Harry a small smile. “The stone you have in your possession is an Infinity Stone. The Soul Stone, to be exact.”

There was suddenly not enough air in Harry’s lungs and he started getting a little light-headed. “What?” he demanded, his previous determination to give nothing away quickly forgotten. “Are you kidding me?”

“No, I’m completely serious.” The Ancient One certainly looked it as she gave Harry an intent stare. “There are those that seek the Infinity Stones and that should never find them. It is therefore of the utmost importance that you tell no one you have the Soul Stone in your possession. Not even those closest to you.”

“Who are you really?” Harry asked, narrowing his eyes. Was he dreaming? Was this all some sort of strange hallucination?

“I am the Ancient One. I am in charge of an ancient order of sorcerers. We stand apart from the wizarding world and do not abide by its laws. The magic we use is different.” The Ancient One made a few complicated hand gestures, like Harry had seen his mother use countless times, and she conjured two intricate circles of light which burst into a sudden short rainfall of warm drops of water all around them. “Once you leave Hogwarts, you are welcome to come study with our order at Kamar Taj in Kathmandu, Nepal. When you arrive there I’ll give you more information on Infinity Stones. For now, keep yours hidden, Harry. The fate of the universe depends on it.”

And before Harry could reply, the Ancient One swung her arms around a few times and a large, sparkling portal opened up. She stepped through it while giving Harry one last nod and then the portal closed as quickly as it had appeared.

Harry stood rooted to the spot as he stared at nothing at all. He stuck his hand in his pocket and fingered the stone. If the Ancient One was telling the truth, Harry had an item in his possession that some of the most powerful beings in the entire universe would probably give their left arms or legs or tentacles for.

Yeah, maybe it was for the best if Harry didn’t tell Jor or anyone else about it. Perhaps, if they had a moment to speak in private, Harry might mention it to Loki, since he already knew about the stone’s strange powers. But no one else need know about it, at least until Harry could verify everything the Ancient One had said.

The offer from her to study with their order of sorcerers certainly was something Harry might be interested in at some point. But that was nothing he needed to decide there and then.

Inhaling a deep, shaky breath, Harry managed to start walking again towards the lake where his brother was waiting for him. He kept his fingers wrapped tightly around the stone in his pocket.

He was a teenager, technically an alien, and the keeper of an Infinity Stone that gave him power over souls. So yeah, no pressure.

Chapter Text

Number 38

Harry woke up with a gasp for the umpteenth morning in a row. For the last ten days or so, ever since he’d learned the truth about the infinity stone in his possession, Harry had been plagued by strange dreams.

Every night he found himself in a grey, desolate place, full of cold winds and bleak landscapes. And always, in the distance, Harry could see a young woman just standing there, staring at him. It was difficult to make out her face, but her eyes never left him during the entire dream.

Harry shivered as he pushed the blankets back and got up. He always felt out of sorts after waking up, even if nothing ever really happened in those strange dream. Harry wandered around in that shadowy realm and a young woman watched him. A lot. That was it. And yet Harry felt as cold to the bone as though he’d been surrounded by dementors all night. A hot shower would help, he knew, in both warming his body up and in driving the memories of that awful place from his mind.

As always, Harry was tempted to check if the soul stone was still safely locked away in his pocket dimension, along with Dumbledore’s wand and the invisibility cloak. But he stopped himself from needlessly opening that pocket dimension more than was absolutely necessary. If the wrong person saw where Harry kept one of the most wanted items in the entire universe, there was no telling what would happen, only that none of it would be good.

Harry went through the motions all throughout his classes that Friday. Ron had come around, as Harry knew he would, and they were once again on speaking terms. Ron seemed to have accepted Harry’s choices about leaving Hogwarts for good at the end of the year, though he did appear a bit more sombre than usual. Harry figured that Ron needed to process the upcoming loss of his best friend as much as Harry did, and that Ron could take all the time he needed for that. Harry in the meantime filled quite a few pages in his journal about his confusing feelings about his future. He was elated to start a new future in New York with his family, but at the same time he found himself grieving the upcoming loss of his friends as well.

After classes Hermione dragged Harry and Ron with her to the library to finish their homework before the weekend started, and to start on some gentle revising for the OWLs.

“It’s March,” Hermione said with a pointed look when Ron complained about studying for exams that were still months away. “I’ve been revising since December already, so you’re running behind, Ron.”

Giving both his friends a fond smile, Harry got his Herbology book out and started on the essay Sprout had given them for homework. The subject was identifying different types of fungi that were most often used in potions and it was quite frankly a dreadfully boring topic. Harry’s mind started wandering soon enough and he found himself doodling in the margins of his parchment instead of writing the actual essay.

“Are you a quester?”

Harry looked up in surprise, only to notice that Ron and Hermione had disappeared and that a girl stood beside him, peering down curiously at the symbol Harry had doodled.

“My father is a quester,” the girl said, nodding at the symbol. “He’s been on a quest for the Deathly Hallows for ages and ages. He writes about it quite often in the Quibbler.”

It took Harry a moment to remember who the girl was. “You’re Luna, right? We shared a compartment on the train.”

“Luna Lovegood,” the girl said with a firm nod, her wide eyes now fixed on Harry’s face. “And you’re Harry Potter.”

“Yep, that I am.” Harry sat back a bit while giving Luna an amused smile. She seemed innocent enough, even if she was inadvertently asking after an infinity stone. “I read about them in a book recently,” Harry said, trying to get some more information out of the girl. “I thought they were just a myth, to be honest.”

“Oh no,” Luna said, shaking her head, her radish earrings bouncing from side to side. “They’re as real as Ravenclaw’s Diadem. They’ve all just been lost for a long time.”

“Ah.” Harry had no idea about any kind of diadem, but he decided to just play along.

“If one gathers all Hallows, one becomes the Master of Death,” Luna said, her gaze becoming a bit distant. “To be honest, I think I’d rather have Ravenclaw’s Diadem than the Deathly Hallows. Being smart seems so much more useful than being in control of death.”

“Sure,” Harry said agreeably while his heart started beating faster and faster. The Master of Death? That was the first Harry heard about that term. The book had only mentioned that Death had given those items to three brothers, not that collecting all items gave you control over Death.

At this point, Hermione and Ron emerged from the stacks, each carrying a few books. Luna ducked her head and hurried off with a whispered goodbye. Harry barely noticed because his mind was still reeling with the idea that he might actually be the Master of Death, whatever that even meant.

That evening in bed, hidden behind well-warded curtains, Harry opened his pocket dimension and took out the stone, the cloak and the wand. As he placed all the items in his lap, he came to the conclusion that simply holding them didn’t really do anything. No figure in black robes holding a scythe appeared. Perhaps one should use them?

Harry pulled the invisibility cloak around himself while holding the stone in his left hand and the wand in his right. Then he cast a simple Lumos charm. The Elder wand lit up at once, almost eager to follow Harry’s command. The wand certainly felt comfortable in Harry’s grip, its magic warm and enticing.

Still nothing happened, though, and Harry cancelled the spell while he dropped backwards on his mattress. Well, that seemed a bust. Not that Harry wanted to be in control of death in any way, shape or form. But since he was now the official guardian of the soul stone, and the wand and cloak were linked to it, Harry wanted to know what these items were actually capable of.

Imagine if he was ever forced to use the Hallows in the future and suddenly Death themselves showed up for a little chat with its new Master. Harry chuckled at the thought. No, better to figure out what the items really were before he ran into any inconvenient surprises.

With a slightly disappointed sigh, Harry opened his pocket dimension back up and hid the Hallows away again. Then he turned on his side and waited for sleep to come.

Once again Harry found himself in the grey, desolate place. The young woman stood in the distance, as always. Only now she started moving towards him, something she’d not done before. Harry took a few small steps back as he watched the woman come closer, unsure if she was an enemy or not. So far she’d not hurt him, but Harry still wasn’t sure who she was or what she wanted with him. Perhaps she was just a strange figment of his imagination, or perhaps she was someone like the Ancient One, bearing important information for him that she wanted to relay through his dreams.

“Hello, little brother,” the woman said when she was just a few yards away. Before Harry could stop her, she grabbed him in a tight hug that lasted a bit longer than was comfortable.

“Hel,” Harry said, because he only had one sister so this must be her. “Nice to meet you.”

“I’m so glad its you who has collected my treasures,” Hel said as she pulled away from Harry. She was slightly taller than him, with skin that was a collection of pink and blue patches. One eye was dark and the other red, and her hair was long and black. Her face seemed solemn and she had an air of sorrow around her. “Now you can set us all free.”

“Huh?” Harry gave his sister a confused look.

Hel’s mouth widened into a toothy smile that made her look like Loki for the first time since Harry had met her. “Our dearest grandfather locked me away here in this realm to look after the dead. I cannot leave, even if I wanted to, just like Jormungandr cannot leave Midgard’s oceans and Fenrir cannot leave his cave.”

“I’m aware,” Harry said in a quiet voice, unsure where his sister was going with this.

“What my grandfather forgot was that being in charge of his realm gives one certain powers and access to certain artifacts.” Hel sounded positively gleeful as she leaned closer to Harry. “I got my hands on the soul stone and used that to create two other items.”

“The wand and the cloak,” Harry guessed.

“Exactly. The wand and the cloak are extensions of the soul stone, connected directly to it. Together, when wielded by a single individual, they are capable of breaking Odin’s enchantments that keep me and my brothers locked away.”

Harry inhaled a surprised breath. “I have all three! I’ll help. Just tell me what to do.”

“Free Jormungandr first,” Hel said in an urgent voice. “The cloak will keep Odin from seeing you, even if he uses his powers. It will even shield you from Heimdall’s gaze. The wand is powered by the soul stone, so it will be able to break Odin’s enchantments.”

“I’m meeting Jor at sunrise. I’ll free him right away.” Harry was suddenly full of nervous jitters. He could actually help Jor and the rest of his siblings, give them their freedom back.

“Good. Jormungandr can take you to find Fenrir, who is hidden away in a cave in a distant realm. And once you free Fenrir, he can take you to me.” Hel smiled down at Harry and gently cupped his cheek with her hand, much like Loki always did. “I made the Hallows and dropped them in the mortal realm in the hopes that one day someone would find them who would set us free. I am so glad it’s you, little brother.”

“Me, too.” Harry had to swallow a few times, suddenly overcome with emotions. Not only did he have actual siblings, but now he could free his siblings so they could actually come to visit him properly, and once Harry was older and able to travel long distances on his own, he’d be able to visit them as well. They might even go on adventures together!

“I will see you soon.” Hel finally released Harry’s face and took a step back.

Harry woke with a gasp and sat up straight in bed. He pulled his curtains open and saw that it was still dark outside, though the sky was starting to lighten at the horizon. Time to free Jor!

In no time Harry was dressed and he pulled the Hallows out of his pocket dimension. He threw the cloak over himself and kept the stone and the wand clutched in his hands. Then he ran through the castle and out the doors. The sun was barely up when Harry reached the lake and Jor only then emerged from the water.

“Jor!” Harry called out, unable to contain his enthusiasm. When Jor looked around in confusion, unable to see him, Harry realized that he was still wearing the invisibility cloak. Which he probably shouldn’t take off, since he did not want anyone in Asgard to notice what he was doing. Inhaling a deep breath, Harry poked the tip of the Elder wand through the gap of his cloak and whispered the most powerful unlocking charm he knew.

A burst of magic so strong Harry felt it tingle up his arm erupted from the wand and threw Jor back five feet so he landed in the lake with a splash.

“Sorry,” Harry called out softly, still wanting to keep himself hidden in case Odin was spying on him somehow.

“Harry?” Jor got up, dripping wet, and walked towards the shore again, the water sloshing around his feet. “What did you just do?”

“I freed you. I hope.” Harry bit his lip, filled with anxiety that something had gone wrong.

Jor shook his head and released a humourless chuckle. “It’s not that simple, Harry. I doubt you’re powerful enough to break Odin’s enchantments. Perhaps one day, when you’re grown, but you’re still far too young.”

“Hel gave me these items. Or rather, she made them and I got my hands on them.” Harry finally stuck his head out and pulled the cloak back. “She said they would be powerful enough.”

“You saw Hel?” Jor took a few big steps towards Harry, face the picture of shock. “That’s impossible. She’s locked away in the realm of the dead.”

“Yep. And I happen to be the Master of Death. Well, according to some.” Harry gave his brother a huge grin and then noticed something that made him gasp in both shock and sheer joy. “Jor! Look where you’re standing.”

Jor looked around a few times, until he noticed how far away from the lake he was standing. “That’s impossible.”

“It worked. Come on!” Harry ran backwards, further away from the lake while he released a bout of slightly hysterical laughter.

Jor, very reluctantly as though he couldn’t quite believe he was capable of it, took a step forward, and another, and then another. He was now standing a good ten yards away from the lake, something he’d not been able to do when he was still under Odin’s control. “You did it, Harry. You actually did it.”

“Nah, it was mostly Hel,” Harry said at once, unable to deal with so much gratitude aimed at him directly. “I just used her tools, that’s all. She said you knew where we could find Fenrir.”

Jor’s green eyes started gleaming while his grin was razor sharp. “I do know that. Want to go on a trip, little brother?”