A description of this chapter:
Meet Saskia Potter, a university graduate at the age of 17 and witch. Meet Tony Stark, billionaire, philanthropist and all that yadda, and is her uncle. Saskia and Tony are related through her mother Lily Potter nee Evans, way before Lily was born her father had an affair with Maria Stark. Maria had grown tired of her husband's infidelity, that affair led to a child, the one and only Tony Stark.
The last Stark had no idea he even had a biological family until that night, the night he received a letter saying he had teenage (English) niece that needed looking after as both her parents were dead and her aunt, uncle and cousin were deceased due to a car accident. The day after Tony obtained the letter, his niece appeared in all her glory.
This chapter's song is: Kick by Spanish Love Songs
Warnings: mild swearing
She literally appeared on Tony's doorstep holding an old-fashioned trunk. His apparent niece did not look happy to be there. She had jagged short hair that flew everywhere in her anger, startling forest green eyes that were rimmed with black and flecked with gold, amber and silver. She appeared in extremely tatty war-torn clothes and yelled at the sky: "Of course you had to leave me on his doorstep with no explanation to why I am there at all. I am not happy!" A letter appeared in her hand, she read through it, sighed and muttered: "Of course, this will obviously explain why I randomly appeared here with no way of getting back." She thrust the letter into Tony's hand and entered the Avengers tower.
"Umm, hello," she said, finally acknowledging her audience, her statement sounding more like a question, she was obviously extremely socially awkward. 'How can someone from Britain the other side of the world come here and not be jet-lagged?' was Tony's first thought. "Hi, come in." She entered the tower the Avengers call home.
"So what's your name? I can't just call you niece."
"Saskia Lillian Potter."
"Your name means protector of mankind," Tony said, bemused.
"You got a problem with that."
"No no, just wondered why."
"My mother's side was German and she wanted to honour that. But unless you want to be murdered in your sleep before you can even comprehend what is happening you will not call me Sasha."
"Can we keep her?" Natasha and Clint emerged from the lift. "We saw everything and she is amazing."
"Well, you don't really have a choice. I was dumped on Tony's doorstep with no way of returning but I do need to go to England soon to sort out some things to do with a man who made things personal. So you're stuck with me."
"We'll give you a tour of the tower. I'm Natasha and this is Clint," she said, gesturing to a sandy-haired man with blue eyes and a quiver on his back. She gave him a look when Clint opened his mouth to speak. "You can call me Nat."
"WHAT?" Tony burst out, unable to keep quiet any longer, his tone accusing. "You don't let me call you Nat."
They walked away and the newly named Nat stuck her up her middle finger, back still turned. "You swore, Capsicle will make you put a dollar in the swear jar," Tony said, childishly sticking out his tongue.
"You actually have a swear jar."
"Yes, wish we didn't but Cap would have our combined ass if we didn't. And also what he doesn't know won't hurt him."
Saskia looked at the Black Widow, face filled with awe and she ran after the extremely dangerous woman who could kill her with a pen. They entered the lift and set it to take them to the first floor, Saskia had already seen the ground floor and Tony was likely to want to show her the basement where he and Bruce Banner did their experiments, inventing and general sciency stuff. That specific day the music in the lift was particularly annoying (you can only listen to Yellow Submarine by the Beatles so many times in a row without losing your mind), Saskia thought.
'If the music in this lift is this irritating all the time I might have to 'accidentally' use my magic to short out the lift's music feature.' The lift stopped, telling its occupants that they had arrived at their intended destination. They exited the lift and Saskia fazed out halfway through Natasha telling her all about J.A.R.V.I.S. which stood for Just A Rather Very Intelligent System. Her magic was telling her to go up the stairs, so she did so in a trance-like state.
The young woman reached the rooftop garden and sat on a bench. She waited, thinking before she pulled her sketchbook and pencil, which she couldn't go without. The young woman's art was her escape from the poisonous, polluted world she lived in. She thought about who she would have been dumped with if she really did have no relatives, or even worse if she didn't have something to express herself with. The sad girl drew, she poured her heart and soul, all her insecurities, into her pencil, making it move as if on instinct. It was her escape from the harsh reality that one day she would have to face without her tough shell that made her so indestructible and unbothered by the slander of her peers. Her magic panned out around her moulding itself into a sort of comfort blanket and created a comforting melody composed of pianos, violins and flutes.
When she drew she had an air of freeness around her and her magic wanted to preserve that. But as soon as she stopped, that feeling was gone, replaced by thoughts of death that she could never fulfil. She looked at her drawing, it was of a small girl curled in a foetal position surrounded by her demons she knew immediately why her mind had her draw this. It was her inner turmoil, the never-ending war inside her. The melancholy girl absentmindedly cast a Tempus charm, thinking her wand was in her hand when in reality it was a pencil. She blinked as the brightness of the charm snapped her out of her trance-like state and the young adolescent realised that she didn't have her wand in her hand, but why was it so bright? And, how did she just have a pencil in her hand? This must be some sort of a trick, no-one can do magic without a wand, or, at least anyone who isn't Merlin, but he's been dead for centuries.
After an extremely long conversation with herself, she decided to keep her ability to do wandless magic, along with it being a possible mutation, to herself. It was filed into the deepest darkest part of her mental library next to her other major secret. She was the unintentional master of death unable to die. It was depressing knowing that everyone you know and love will die around you but you will stay the same, lost in the abyss of death calling out to her but never truly claiming her. She was frozen in time until all versions of everything dies but, of course, death is an immortal thing, you cannot have life without death.