The Unwarranted Hero
Ch. 1 Dragged back into the game
I do not own Harry Potter or the Avengers
J. K. Rowling and Marvel Studios do.
Positive reviews are welcome.
Authors note: After much consideration, this will be undergoing a complete re-editing. I want to tell things differently from another angle. This will be completely overhauled. So, I hope you approve and enjoy.
Ch. 1 Dragged back into the game
Stuttgart, Germany
Harry's POV
Earth
High above the planet, the suns Ultra Violet Rays bearing down on the planet, giving light to all manner of life upon its surface. Above its atmosphere and other protective fields, scattered all around it, satellites controlled by their respective bases, hovered in stationary orbit.
In the country of Germany, nearing the late night hours, a small population of people were being corralled by a being of tremendous power. With a staff in hand, emitting a bright glow from a blue gem, Said gem rested between the curved, sharp blade and the elongated staff it was melded to. The being holding the staff, multiplied various magical illusionary constructs, forcing the people into one spot.
A people that just happened to be afraid as their means of escape was now impossible. All but one who had not moved, showed not fear, but annoyance at the entity, threatening his night.
'Save the Planet.' Came his thoughts, 'Whenever I read that bumper-sticker, I've had to laugh. 'Save the Planet.' What for? And from what, ourselves? What about God? Can he help us? I don't think so. God gave us what we have to see how we'll use it. Shit, rats in a cage would have done it better. Life's a bitch, and then you die. Bumper-sticker Philosophy. Yeah, right. Sometimes, you get a second chance.'
'It seemed that no matter where I went, trouble follows. It's been several years since that stick in the mud and self proclaimed Dark Lord, alias Tom Riddle died by my hands, that I had been looking forward to a normal life the moment it was over. Lesson learned, things can only end bad when you let your guard down. Good thing I was aware and ready for such an eventuality.
After the war, I was forced to flee not just Magical Britain, but Europe as a whole after snake-face's death. I knew I would be on the run due to those that at one point in time, I called my friends and those who call themselves mentors, teachers and Masters of their own field of Magic, not knowing I had them under watch from one of several beings I trusted.
Of course, I saw their acts of betrayal coming. The perpetrators never thought I would have them under observation, let alone be prepared for it or even suspected them. God, there isn't a day that goes by that I don't thank magic for sending me Dobby, even for as long as he stood by my side. That idiot Lucius was a fool for not paying attention to the diary that I had returned to him when he tossed that damn book into the little guys hands.
That night after my second year at Hogwarts, Dobby became my go-to guy. He helped me figure out who my real friends were, and whom were just fakes. Damn the fates, I miss the little guy.
After the Tri-Wizard Tournament, I gone into hiding. And yet, before their passing, Sirius and Remus revealed certain truths to me. Truths that would seem impossible, but as we all know, magic, that is true magic, is considered impossible and subjective by some, and mythological by others.
Both of my parents, James and Lily, their diary's having been retrieved and gifted to me by my Godfather and adopted Uncle, being the surviving individuals outside of myself would ever truly know the truth of my origins.
Sirius and Remus played their part in keeping me aware of who I was and my true parentage, making sure I was well versed in my station within the Wizarding Society. I trained and trained well in preparing myself in doing my part in this so called world as both a Lord of two Ancient and Noble Families and a warrior. But in the end, it didn't matter as the old fool played his last card before old Severus killed his ass after finding out how he was solely responsible for the death of my mother.
At that point, he had earned my forgiveness and my respect from that forth. Taking out Tommy was not easy. Dumbledore, the old bastard that he was, set me up before his untimely demise. The old goat fucker had tricked Sirius and Remus out of hiding. When they died, I became a one man army. When I fought my way through to their hideout in Lucius's home, I had wound up finding and saving many an innocent consisting of muggles, muggleborns, half-bloods, and even a few purebloods that the Death Eaters and Tommy had locked up beneath the Malfoy mansion.
Dobby, as his last act in life, aided me in getting them out, while taking a knife to the lungs that was meant for me. Bellatrix Lestrange would die first when I enacted my vengeance.
Hermione Granger, one of the muggleborns that had been taken hostage, a girl I once called friend, pleaded for me to forgive her after what she intended to do to me at the expense of the manipulative old bastards plans. Learning that the goat fucker had allowed her parents to die and her to be captured after promising to protect her and had gone back on his word, changed her. She earned her spot back into my already hardened graces, but not my heart. Never again.
Never again, will I let someone get too close as it would only end in misery. After losing Dobby and then Hedwig whom Tom killed when she took a 'Killing Curse' meant for me, added to ways in which I imagined the pain and suffering he would soon feel.
Hermione understood and would come to accept over time the and changes in my personality and the motivation that kept me moving me forward. She couldn't blame anyone but herself and Albus Dumbledore for the things I had gone through to become the man I am today. But as a way to make amends and restitution, she became just one of several of my only sources of information during the war that was to come.
Finding out how much Tommy feared Death allowed me to learn how he had evaded Death all those years ago, and find a way to remove his head from his shoulders, Permanently. And as I did his magical pet slaves, his so called Death Eaters, I placed their heads on pikes next to his in the middle of Diagon Alley to show the people who had come across them, how far one should never go to piss off a Potter. I'm willing to bet wherever Dracula was, should have existed, he'd be proud at the displayed image for all to see, and no doubt would raise a toast of respect to me.
For the many years I've been on the run from Britain, the other countries aided me in keeping the Auror's that the at then Minister of Magic of Great Britain kept sending, at bay and off my ass.
Doesn't mean I haven't been kept aware of the goings on back there. My contacts in that backwater country discreetly keep feeding me tidbits here and there, allowing me to keep three steps ahead of the Ministry day in and day out. Of course, all of the other countries threatened to cut off funding, aid, shipments, and such if the Minister, one Cornelius Fudge, kept sending his goons after me while in another countries jurisdiction.
So it was, I was forced into self exile while evading those i had fought and killed for, only to die, come back, and end the whole debacle on my terms.
Dumbledore tried to hide a lot of information from me about my place within the Government, but like I said, Sirius and Remus took care of that. But the moment I went into exile, I had my Godbrother Neville act as my proxy while leaving a message for the Ministry, that if anything were to happen to either he and or those I consider my only true friends and family, then I'd return to make sure they'd knew I would return to reek vengeance upon those whom crossed me and mine as what I did to Tommy and and those who toted his hypocritical falsehoods and lies, would seem like a walk in the park with what I would do then.
But because I was still somewhat of a marked man in Magical Britain, it was only right that in order to keep the peace, it was best that I stayed away, at least for the time being anyway.
Traveling the globe, I'd seen the darkness in mans hearts, not just magical, but muggle or no-mag as well. As time passed, I visited the war ridden countries, giving aid when and where I could. Even met a scientist named Dr. Robert Bruce Banner, whom as time passed, in the time that we had worked together, became a close friend. Earning his trust took a while as he was a bit paranoid.
I found out that the good Doctor, through an accidental overexposure to something he called 'Gamma Radiation', underwent a mutation that caused him to transform into something resembling that of a jade skinned muscular troll-like creature in height and size. When angered, he could become an unstoppable force of destruction. The transformation was quite painful for Bruce when he turned.
It was almost like how a Werewolf too feels pain when they transform. When an American General chased after the man at the time I was around Bruce, I made sure he was more than hidden and magically sent or deposited elsewhere. Eventually, after learning some medical skills and giving him some calming drought potions and instructions in how to make more and where to find the ingredients in return, we went our separate ways.
I didn't just learn new muggle studies and magical studies on my travels during my self imposed exile, I also learned how to fight smarter. I first ended up in Japan where I was taken under the wing of a Martial Arts Master whom was also magical and yet taught both Magical and mundanes the skills to defend themselves, and whom knew my story and didn't pity me because of my losses. But he did respect me because the only people I hurt or killed were those deserving of the pain and death. He went so far as to teach me how to heal as he said that in order to become an even greater warrior, one must also learn to heal, and so he taught me what I needed to learn.
He then had a Master Swordsmith and known Mystic forge a blade just for me. During this time, I had my eyes fixed with laser surgery, removing the need for glasses and contacts. I spent some time in Japan before my friend felt I was ready to continue my world journey of self discovery. Even so far as to direct me to another place where I could continue my studies in magic in ways I never had before. The blade he placed in my hands, as a final way of honoring me, made sure that only those of my blood would be able to use the blade when my blood was added to its creation.
There were runes etched on it that ensured that it would not break, and could cut almost anything. I'd later learned that the Master Swordsmith had somehow gotten a hold of some metal he learned was called vibranium. The vibranium from what I was told, came from a place in Africa through an acquaintance of his in a village called Wakanda. The vibranium itself was merged with titanium steel during my swords creation and sharpened in such a way I'd never know how to repeat, but yet my new swords blade was acid etched, for extreme effectiveness.
I then journeyed to, with his insistence and best wishes, to Kamar Taj where I had come to meet and learn from those of the Mystic Arts. My next mentor and teacher was a woman whom had forgotten her own name, but had come to be called 'The Ancient One'. Like with Bruce and my last teacher, we grew close. I was a quick learner as the Ancient One could attest. My time was shorter there as my mental abilities or 'Occlumency' had allowed me to absorb the lessons much faster than a normal student of the Mystic Arts. My skills in combat also took on a whole new level as I became proficient in various disciplines I had only heard of in passing.
Now in Stuttgart, Germany, I just cleared things with the Magical Authorities in order to be allowed to remain in Germany for however long I liked, just so they could thumb their noses at Great Britain, which I found no problem with. I had even secured a motel room for a week thanks to some within the Ministry who pointed me in the right direction.
I was just enjoying the night air after donning my new dark coat. Feeling as if I needed it, I slipped my sword into an enchanted pocket in on the inside, hiding it from plain view. I walked among the populace, the night calm when some people began crying out, running from one of the biggest buildings in the area. I felt a powerful magic user nearby, and yet, it also felt familiar somehow.
Among some of the running and screaming populace, some dumbass in a dark green leather suit walked out with what appeared to be a long golden cane with an blue jewel encrusted on the tip of it. Suddenly, his bodies attire began to change, a helmet with a ridiculously long curved horns appeared on his head, the cane too changing, elongating to just over several feet with a curved blade resembling that similar to a scorpions stinger, shining in the light of the streets lights as it did so while in his hands.
As the people scrambled to get away from the magic user, a German Police cruiser came around the bend and turned towards the guy, only for him to keep walking and barely turning his body as he then raised the scepter and blasted the car with the jewels apparent power, killing the Law Enforcement Officers instantly while throwing the now burning wreckage onto its front, skidding as it passed him from behind. He then kept walking as if he didn't have a care in the world.
I felt the power as it flew from the bladed staff that resided in his hands, and let me tell you, I was shaking somewhat in both fear of the power in of itself as it was truly terrifying. But, for some unknown reason the man who now began to make magical constructs of himself with the scepter in hand, surrounding myself and the people, seemed more familiar to me now more than ever. He stopped before us, demanding we kneel, and yet the people were too frightened to think until he slammed the scepter down, bellowing for us to kneel. For the moment I did so with the people, my eyes roaming to ensure the people were safe. If I was going to act, I was going to wait until an opportunity to presented itself, as I had no wish for there to be collateral damage.
The man whom I'm going to call Longhorn for now, spreads his arms, smiling in child-like glee as he walked amongst us, "Is this not simpler? Is this not your natural state?" he asked. I don't look him in the eyes as my head is lowered, and yet I also slam my occlumency shields down, to hide my magic from him in case he can feel and sense it, and yet Longhorn continues his monologue. "It's the unspoken truth of Humanity, that you crave subjugation.
I can tell, the guys full of himself and silently snort at his words, hopefully not drawing attention to myself.
"The bright lure of freedom, diminishes your life's joy in a mad scramble for power, for identity, you were made to be ruled. In the end, you will always kneel."
I mentally shake my head at the idiocy of his monologuing or words of so called 'Wisdom'. There was movement to my left, as an old man began to stand, and yet, I saw on his left wrist, a tattoo. But not just any tattoo, a tattoo of numbers. And it was then that I knew. I knew the old man had been forced to kneel once before to another madman and dictator. I reach out, making sure the old man didn't move. He turned to me with a questioning expression. I shake my head.
"Stay down, old man. Being a Hero is overrated." I sighed as I rose to stand in his place. "Believe me, I know." I said as I turn from him, to Longhorn.
"I believe, I told you to kneel." Longhorn says to me, his eyes narrowing at me.
"I kneel to no man." I growl out.
"I am far from an ordinary man."
"If you say so. I've never in my life, ever knelt to other men, including those who were like you." I sneer. He's taken aback at this, and yet smirks right back at me in a way that suddenly reminds me of...well, me. He and I resemble one another and I begin to get a bad feeling in the pit of my stomach as I begin to really look at him.
"There are no men like me." he smiles dangerously.
"There are always men like you. And like you will soon learn, they all fall in the end. Bet on it." I shot back. It was then I began to release a trickle of my magic as it flowed to my finger tips. He see's this and raises a single eye.
Raising the staff in a threatening stance, the blade tip glowing with power that seeped from the gem into the blade itself as it was levied towards me, he then says loudly to the still kneeling crowd while keeping his eyes on me. "Look to this young man people. Let him be an example."
The staff then shoots a bright bolt of light blue energy at me as then channel more energy into my hands. I begin to raise my arms with the intent to call up a magical shield to deflect the beam when a man in a red, white, and blue, patriotic suit lands in front of me, a circular shield on one arm that he had before himself. The shield deflects and sends Longhorns bolt right back at him, striking him in the chest on return, causing him to fly back and land painfully onto his front.
As the patriotic man rises, his shield lowering to his side, I begin to recognize who stood before me as I had once done a study of him as a child during my years in Primary. Captain America, the Sentinel of Liberty, saved my life. I find myself somewhat in awe, and yet I was sure I could have stopped that bolt on my own, so I narrow my eyes at the guys back.
"You know, the last time I was in Germany and saw a man standing above everyone else, we ended up disagreeing." The Captain says.
Longhorn, obviously recognizing the Captain well as I and the frightened people, huffs, and then smiles as he uses the scepter to aid in his rising from the ground, "The Soldier, the Man out of time."
"I'm not the one who's out of time." he says as he as a jet lowered from the sky. I recognize a Mini-gun as it lowers and shifts into its full form and points at Longhorn.
"Loki, drop the weapon and stand down." a female voice from inside the jet demands.
'Loki?' I say in my mind as it all clicks into place. According to the journals of my father, this guy was supposedly one of the Pagan Norse Gods who lived in the Realm known as Asgard, the Realm Eternal. He was someone my father and his friends worshipped when they younger. I also learned something else in those journals. My father James Potter, during a fight against Voldemort and his Death Eaters, had been struck with an curse with an 'Impotence Curse' after finishing Hogwarts.
After he and my mother wedded, he and she performed a Sacred Ritual that summoned one whom would call himself Loki. The ritual proved a success as the Trickster God arrived and a brief explanation on James Potters situation that he then bedded my mother that very same night, the so called God. Even if it was the one time.
But apparently it was enough as my mother learned months later, that she was pregnant with me. Once I was born, James took me as his son and blood adopted me into the Potter family in name, blood, and magic. I thought it was utterly ridiculous, delusions brought about by Dumbledores manipulations, but now that I think about it, I once thought magic wasn't real.
Looking upon the being before me, he who would be Loki, it's now, that I realize James may have been some truth in regards to who I really was. The man who now stood before me and the Captain, if he was Loki, the God of mischief, then he was also my true father. Gods, I hate my life.
Loki then points and fires his staffs bolt at the ship which on instinct and because I can't stand to see good people get hurt or die, I lash out with my own magic, throwing out a pulse of magical energy, and pushing the beam far off to the right and away as the Captain then takes the prerogative and hurls his shield at Loki. The defensive weapons aim struck true, causing the Trickster to stumble back a bit. The shield returns to the Captains hand as he charges the Trickster, and then throws a right hook that connects with Loki's jaw.
By this time, the people began to run in which ever way as I stood and watched. Waiting in case I needed to act.
The blow hardly affects Loki whom then swings the scepter at the Captain who shields with his,...well, shield. Two more blows follows where Loki forces an opening on the Super Soldier, hammering him in the chest, sending the Captain spinning back on his back by several feet.
I know it's not my problem, and yet, I watch as the Captain tries to attack Loki with the shield again, only for Loki to strike it from the air after its thrown, and to the ground as it comes near him. Both quickly converge and swing on one another, the Captain with his fists, Loki with the scepter until the Captain is struck in the back, sending him several meters forward and to his knees. Loki takes the time to put the butt of the scepter on the backside of the Captains helmet.
I can't find it within myself to stand by and let this continue any further.
End of Harry's POV
"Dammit!" Harry growls to himself. Slapping his hands together and then pulling them back, a rope of pure magical energy, sparkling in a way reminiscent to that of a firework sparkler, came into existence.
"Kneel." Loki sneered. Suddenly, a sparkling rope wrapped around his waist. He followed the ropes energy trail until his eyes landed on the 'boy' who grasped the rope tightly in both hands, a fierce look in his eyes.
"Back off." With a mighty pull, with his magic as his aid, he yanked the God away from the Super Soldier. The strength behind the pull forced Loki onto his front, the staff flying from his hands several meters ahead.
Captain Steve Rogers looked back at Harry and then Loki with bewilderment as did the Black Widow and co-pilot beside her inside off the jet, "So, the boy has a bag of tricks." The Trickster said with a sinister grin as he pulled himself to his feet.
"You have no idea."
"Really?"
Cracking his neck, Harry anticipates what comes next as Loki summons the staff and levels the staff at the young mage and fires at him, only for Harry to bring his arms together, and thrusted them forward, his palms open as a gold shield of magical energy shimmered into existence, shielding him. The bolt collides, sending Harry sliding back several feet, cracks showing on the shield. And yet it held.
The Man-who-conquered looks at the would be God and smirks, "My turn." he says as he looks to his right and left, looks at two separate vehicles and thrusts out both of his hands. The cars rise into the air, and for a moment, if one could look closely, Loki sweat drops, eyes wide, and Harry brings his arms down into an 'X' pattern towards Loki who dives forward as the cars collides with one another, where he once stood, creating a tremendous explosion in the process. Loki brings his head down and uses his arms to covers his head as if to shield himself from the flying car debris due to the explosion.
As he rises almost a minute later, he notices the mage then pull out a long curved sword from within his coat, twirling the blade once with one hand while the coat was shrugged off and removed, only to be tossed to the side with the other. The sword was leveled towards him in a defensive hold. "So, a duel of blades then?"
Both Asgardian and Wizard walked around one another with Harry holding his weapon out, arm extended. Loki held his own weapon with both hands, chuckling as he observed the boy before him. He paused a moment as he looked at the eyes of the young warrior mage. He recognized those eyes whenever he looked upon a reflective surface, he'd see those same eyes. Only one other shared those eyes with him. But it couldn't be, could it?
Harry in the meanwhile shifted his stance as he then stood to the side-like, grabbing the swords grip in both hands, gradually standing with one leg forward while crouching slightly.
Loki sneered as he then went on the offensive and stepped forward, swinging the staff overhead, then thrusting it forward. His opponent brought his weapon to bare as he intercepted the staffs blade with his own, the sword blocking the strike, the grip up high, held in one hand while using the other, palm open and holding the back blunt end.
Both men with blades locked into place, leaned close to each other, "You have heart."
Harry smirked, "So I've heard."
"Heh!" Loki then pushed outward, then spun in place, swinging his staff. Harry leaned back as the blade of the staff swung overhead. He spun in place and brought his sword up and over in and downward strike, only for Lokis staff to intercept the curved, elongated sword. The said staff was leaning on Lokis back when both men leapt back.
Harry spun in place as he twirled his sword on both sides like a professional swords men, only to strike out as he and Loki struck out and fought for what seemed like forever, the skills shown to those who watched made it seem as if both were ancient warriors who lived and would die by the blade should they choose, but in reality was only several minutes when Harrys sword became entangled with the middle of the double blades of the staff and forced the mages weapon downward and to the side as the swords tip touched the ground at the same moment as the staff.
Both Asgardian and Wizard looked at one another before Loki then threw both legs out, one leg after the other while holding the staff with both hands.
Seeing the attack coming, Harry pulled his sword from where it was held in place as he ducked and with a powerful swing, knocked the staff from his creators grip. Loki could only right himself in midair and land with a crouch. He rose slowly as the mage before him once more stood in a defensive stance, standing sideways, he held the sword in a two handed grip, the blade again leveled at him.
"Who are you?"
"What does it matter?"
Suddenly, the sound of rockets could be heard in the air, if at a distance, yet was getting closer. The sound of classic Rock music playing as as red and gold armored individual flying around a building, began to dive downward when he rose upward a bit and with palms raised, shot out two beams of energy.
Said beams struck the Asgardian Trickster who was once again sent sailing backwards, only the beams weren't fried from the staff and reflected back at him from a shield.
Both Harry and the Captain looks up and watches as Iron-Man also known as Tony Stark then lands among them in his shining red and yellow armor, landing on one foot and knee, rises and stands on both feet. He and the Captain walks up to Loki while Harry merely then turns his own attention back to and glares at the Asgardian for a moment, only to turn and summon his coat to his hand and begins to walk away while Tony opens and points his many weapons at the downed Asgardian who raises his hands in the form of surrender, his armor glowing and shifting into casual wear while several feet behind the two men, his helmet disappears in glowing light. He didn't listen to the daring insult used on his father by Stark or the final words spoken by the billionaire after Loki surrenders. He just doesn't care.
Harry coat once more on his back, sword safely tucked inside his coat, notices the jet landed to his left, and yet, not paying it any further attention, Harry continues to walk away, when a feminine voice halts him, "Hold it. Don't move." the voice demands.
He doesn't look back as his head comes up, and yet he somehow knows she has a weapon trained on his back.
"Identify yourself!" the woman demands.
Harry turns his head slightly as if she was an idiot, and yet doesn't answer.
"Agent Romanoff, what's going on?" The Captain asks as he approaches.
"Orders from Fury, I'm to bring him in." she says, her armed hands aim never wavering, and yet still pointing at Harry's back.
"He's a civilian, Agent." the Captain argues.
"This 'civilian', just went toe to toe with Loki, and he's still standing." she shot back.
"Look, I'm not with anybody here. But I couldn't just stand there while the Captain was out-powered, out-muscled, and out-matched in every way. I did my job and don't expect or ask for anything in return. I just want to-erk," Harry smacks his neck as he felt and pulled a dart a dart from his neck. Looking at it, already he feels whatever drug was shot into him, going to work. He tries to shake it off, but its too powerful. He stumbles a bit and is about to fall until a set of strong arms catches him and helps him slowly to the ground. His last visual image is of looking into the pure blue eyes and blond hair of the man he aided earlier.
When he came to, it was to the sound of thunder as he took in a deep breath. He quickly looked around to see where he was when his head snapped up as whatever craft he was in, it had an uninvited visitor on top of it. He tried to move, but found himself strapped and his hands bound by some form of metal containment cuffs. He then looked and watched Tony Stark in his red and gold Iron-Man suit, placed his helmet back on his head, the helmet shifting and locking into place as the eyes of the helmet lights up. The voices of the cramped jet are coming in deep tones in his ears as at first as his eyes see's the Captain grabbing his shield while Stark hits a button at the rear of the jet. A man in silver and black armor with a red cape, jumps down onto the jets lowering ramp, his knee and fist aiding him in his fall. As Stark raises one of his weaponized hands, the whine of the red gauntlet getting loud, only for the blond haired man to strike the Armored millionaire with what appears to be a war hammer, causing him to fly back and into the Captain who didn't have enough time to ready himself as he and Stark fall to the floor of the jet.
As Harry's hearing improves, he watches as Iron-Man refuses to heed the Captains words about 'Needing a plan of attack.' once the Hammer wielding individual grabs Loki by his suit, yanks him forward and in doing so, snapping his restraints, quickly walking to the ramp, twirling his hammer, and flying off into the darkened night with his captive.
"I have a plan, attack!" With his suits repulsors, Stark flies off into the night. Harry remains silent and watches as Steve Rogers grabs a parachute and begins to slip it on, snapping the appropriate parts together on the apparatus.
"I'd sit this one out, Cap." the red haired woman warned as Harry now notices her, said.
"I don't see how I can." Rogers replied, clipping the last strap in place.
"These guys come from legend, their basically Gods!" she continued as she looks to Harry, she see him glaring at her and then sees his eyes glowing a deep shade of Jade as he is apparently annoyed with her. She turns back to the Captain as he grabs his shield.
"There's only one God, Ma'am, and I'm pretty sure he doesn't dress like that." With those words, he walks to the end of the ramp and jumps into the now silent night.
Harry looks down, and curses his Potter curse, about charging into danger like a foolish Gryffindore and trying to help as he with a near silent mutter, removes the shackles from his bound wrists. He then snaps himself free from the restraints and stands, cracks his neck left and then right and then turns towards the ramp.
"Hold it." the Agent demands. Hearing the click of a gun as a round was chambered, Harry slowly turns back around and faces the woman who once again has a weapon trained on him with both hands.
"You're going to shoot me again, Agent?" Harry asks.
"That wasn't me, last time. That was Stark. But I have my orders, I'm to bring you in." she answers.
"Stark!" Harry says as he nods and then steps forward, forcing her to step back, a single arm outstretched, pointing the gun at his head. He slowly brings up his left hand and places it on the barrel of the gun and with barely any pressure, lowers the weapon, "I'm not the enemy. I did what I did because the Captain could not fight an Asgardian like Loki. Once again, I'm forced to stick my nose into a situation I had no wish to be a part of. You have to let me go."
"Why?"
"It's who I am, what I do. My nature if you can call it that. However you want to see it, it doesn't matter. It's my curse to jump headfirst into dangerous situations and come out smelling like I've been through Hell, but alive." They stood staring at one another for several seconds before he felt she understood his reasons, lowering the gun to her side as she let him go. He then turns, walks to the ramps end and jumps into the night, falling for a second, before he shot off into the sky, leaving a white vaporous trail behind him. The Agent, Natasha Romanoff, sees this and is somewhat shocked at first. She schools her features and shakes her head, "Men." she says as she then turns and goes to report back to Director Fury.
Harry landed minutes later inside a forested area, he was looking around, not knowing where the Captain was when an object falls to the Earth, in front of him. He takes a step back, hands lighting up with magical energy, preparing to raise a shield when some form of electronic whine sounds and an image via some form of hologram appears before him of a tall, dark skinned man, with a black eye-patch over one eye, in a black shirt, pants, boots, and a black trench-coat. In his hand appeared to be a file. Upon eying the file, he sees his name as the man says his name, "Harry James Potter. Born July 31st, 1981 in Wales to James Charlus and Lily Marie Potter-Evans. Raised by your Maternal Aunt Petunia Dursley-Evans and her husband Vernon Dursley alongside their son Dudley right after the mysterious deaths of your parents. Attended Little Winging Primary School until you were Eleven, at which point all records of your existence cease." Closing the folder and throwing it aside out of view, the man puts his hands behind his back and continues to speak.
"Of course, if you look a little deeper, you start to see the real picture." Looking Harry in the eyes, he speaks the words that Harry dreads to hear as he has heard them all before, words that he hoped to never hear again, "Harry James Potter, The-Boy-Who-Lived, The Chosen One, Tri-Wizard Champion, Vanquisher of Voldemort, Man-who-Conquered, Hero of the Second Blood war, and more recently, the Dark Lord Potter."
"Enough!" Harry cries out. "I am no Dark Lord, I never was. Which begs me to ask, who the hell are you? How do you know so much about me and the Magical Realm? What do you want with me?" he demands, his breathing heavy as his anger sky-rockets.
"I'm Nick Fury, Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. We've kept a close eye on you for some time, Mr. Potter. Ever since you ended the Civil War in Europe...And I want to ask for your help."
Seeing the sincerity in the man's eyes, Harry bends his head to the side as if in thought, "My help?" he asks. "Your people hold a gun on me, not once, but twice, knocked me out after helping a recently returned to life living Legend, and chained me up as if I was a common criminal after I helped one of your own take down a supposed Norse Deity, and you dare ask for my help."
"Agent Romanoff and Mr. Stark may have been a little...overzealous, Mr. Potter. But we're facing a crisis on a global scale. We're gathering a group of unique individuals to help resolve it, and I want you to join us."
"To what? Save the world?" he snorts. "I did that once, and you know what I got for my troubles? Do you know what happened to me?" he says, his anger growing as his magic began to spike and become visible. "The world spat in my face. I gave up and lost everything I had in Europe, My family, my property, a good portion of my family wealth stolen, traitorous people I once called friends, leaving me only a handful of true friends that I can count on two hands. I was forced to run and go into exile when the Government I saved proclaimed me Tom Riddles successor. I've spent years away from my Country, never able to be near all that remains of my parents. Running from those who used me to their own ends and wants, ONLY TO THROW ME AWAY WHEN THEY HAD NO FURTHER USE FOR ME EXCEPT TO FALSELY MAKE ME OUT TO BE A MONSTER LIKE THE ONE WHOM I WAS FORCED TO END." he shouts as he turns to his left and launches a massive bolt of pure magical energy in a single throw. The impact, creating a massive wave as both Earth and Trees exploded outward, throwing dirt, dust, and wooden debris everywhere.
He fell to his knees, tears falling down his cheeks, his hands in front of him and shaking as all of the pent up rage finally passes. His shoulders trembled as he finally let out many years worth of anger, hate, and pain that festered within him, having grown until it could finally be released in a single release.
Nick let him settle before he spoke again. He held a secret that he waited to reveal to the Potter child, no 'Man' who knelt on both knees before him, his anguish finally out of his system. When he saw that Potter was ready, he began again, "You should watch that temper, Mr. Potter. It hasn't been the same since you ran into Dr. Banner over a few years ago." Fury said as a matter of fact. Harry's eyes snapped up at the mention of his old friend.
"What do you know of Bruce?" Harry asked protectively.
"He's one of the 'unique individuals' I mentioned, and he's helping us." Fury answered. Seeing no deceit in the mans eyes, Harry sighed in relief.
"He trusts you?" Harry asked.
"About as far as he could throw us." Fury replies with a shrug.
"When you say that, do you mean Bruce or the other guy? Because, let's face it, the other guys got a hell of a throwing arm." Harry chuckled while wiping his face and eyes with a conjured handkerchief.
"Dr. Banner understands the severity of the situation. He understands that working for us is for..."
Harry points at the holographic image, his finger stopping the Director in his words, "Don't, don't even say it. If the words 'Greater Good' comes out of your mouth..." Harry leaves the threat hanging in the air. "I just want to be left alone." he finished in a weak tone of voice.
"I don't think so. Even after running for all of these years, you still can't resist stopping to help people. I saw the footage in Stuttgart. You stopped that man from standing up when you could have walked away after that, but you intervened when Loki had Rogers down. You have a deep-seated need to help people, Mr. Potter. It's in your nature." Fury let that statement hang for a moment, and judging by the look in Harry's eyes, Fury could tell he was getting through to him. "Loki has killed eighty people within the last two days. You were able to fight him head to head, and you're still breathing. That makes you an Asset. I'll make you a deal Mr. Potter, you help us, and I promise you, the British Ministry of Magic will never bother you again and more importantly, you will finally be free to go home."
'Home!' he thought. The word was almost foreign to him. But the idea to return to Britain without the need to fear the Ministry ever again and take back what they took from him was almost too good to be true. And all that was asked was to aid in saving the world. For a few moments, there was silence between the two. The only thing that could be heard was the battle now raging deep within the forest between Iron-Man and the Hammer wielding blond Harry assumed to be Loki's brother, Thor, his Uncle.
"This...catastrophe you mentioned, could it effect the U. K.?" he asked, despite the betrayal of his former friends and would-be mentors back in Europe, he still had friends he would go great extremes for and would fight and die for.
"It will effect the whole world," Fury said pointedly. "If we don't stop whatever Loki has planned, then Billions will die."
"And Dr. Banner is really helping you of his own free will?" Harry asked, placing his hands on his waist. He sensed the Captain the moment this conversation started and knew he was nearby, listening to every word that was said.
"He is, although he's not happy about it." Fury said as a matter of fact.
"But he's not exactly angry about it either. Otherwise, we wouldn't be having this conversation." Sighing in resignation and rubbing his face tiredly, "I just know I'm going to regret this. Okay, what do you need me to do?" he asked, crossing his arms.
Fury smiled in satisfaction, he answered, "Follow Captain Rogers, he'll show you the way." with those words, the holographic image of of the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. disappeared in a shimmer of pixelated light.
"You can come out now, I know you've listened almost the entire time. I also know you know that I've agreed to help." Harry said as with a wave, he vanished the holographic device, calling out to the air above him as he raised his head, arms once again intertwined.
The tree above him rustled and the star spangled man dropped to the ground. Rising from a crouch, the man known as Captain America replied, "Yeah, I heard. And I'm sorry about what you've been through. I knew your Grandparents, Fleamont and Euphemia. They were good people and good friends. Had they lived, what you went through, would never have happened. As it is, I'm glad you decided to help, Mr. Potter." Extending his hand, the Captain introduced himself, "Captain Steven Rogers."
"Sigh, Harry James Potter." Harry shot back, grasping the outstretched hand. He may not trust right away, but the fact the Captain was well known, even in Europe, to be an honest and trustworthy person and even knew his Grandfather and spoke fondly of the man, put a positive notch in his mental blackboard for showing him whom he could begin trusting at the moment.
A loud explosion echoed from the deeper part of the forest. Harry watched as half a dozen large trees fell to the ground. "If we don't stop them, they'll tear this forest apart." Captain Rogers said.
"Agreed." Harry replied as he and Steve turned to and ran side by side, evenly keeping up with each other, towards the battle of God vs. metal man. They reached a cliff overlooking scarred Earth. Trees had been uprooted and smashed to pieces, several craters littered the ground. Thor looked mostly unscathed while Iron-Man's armor had several dents and gashes in it.
Stopping to take in the scene, Steve reared back and released his shield. It flew, reflecting from Thor's head to Iron-Man's chest, and back to Steve's hand, "HEY!" he shouted as he placed the shield back onto his arm. "That's enough." he said as he now had their attention. He jumped from where he stood, landing before the two individuals. Harry too dropped down, leaving a trail of white mist in his wake and landed next to the Man-out-of-time. "Now, I don't know what you plan on doing here."
Thor was about to send out a reply when he stopped and took a good long look at Harry, most likely sensing his power and aura, and then turned and looked to his brother who sat on a rocky hill several kilometers away, as he was looking down on the Heroes, "Impossible." he muttered softly.
Steve shot the Thunderer a questioning look when Harry stepped forward and walked to Thor's side, his back to the Captain while his eyes locked onto Loki who was watching from where his brother left him. Thor turned to Harry as his nephew turned his head slightly towards him, an somewhat saddened smile on his face, "Uncle!" Harry acknowledged softly.
"Say what?" Stark called out, a bit perplexed.
This is Dedicated to VINcredable's 'Avengers Initiative' Fanfic. After going back over this and having watched most of the Marvel MCU, I am going to redo a lot of this story than what I have already done with more to be added afterwords. Remember to read and review. Until next time.