The next morning, the chaos of Loki's "dog" phase was still very much in play. Asgardian palace halls that had previously echoed with victory and the triumphant clinking of goblets were now filled with frantic scurrying, the occasional howl, and Thor loudly demanding, "WHERE IS MY BROTHER?!" like the world's most exasperated big brother.
Harry, still feeling the glow of last night's unexpected party victory (and maybe still slightly tipsy from whatever ridiculous amount of mead he'd downed), leaned against a column, watching the show with a grin. Loki, in his new form—tiny, yappy, and decidedly more puppy than villain—was currently being chased around by a very irritated Sif. She was brandishing a large, decorative spear that probably wasn't designed for chasing dogs. You could see her contemplating whether it would be more trouble to just use it as a leash.
"Come here, you little furball!" Sif snapped, and Loki—naturally—skittered away like he was auditioning for Fast & Furious: Canine Drift.
Harry chuckled. "Who knew the God of Mischief had such... low-rent issues," he muttered, loud enough for Thor to hear. Thor, still in full warrior mode but also clearly losing his patience with Loki's antics, turned to Harry with a half-sheepish, half-apologetic grin.
"You know, this is not how I expected my brother to spend his morning," Thor said, his broad shoulders slumping a little. "He's... well, he's usually more... composed."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "More composed? Thor, he tried to invade Midgard with an alien army and a scepter that looks like it was stolen from the worst Halloween store in existence. I think getting stuck as a Chihuahua might be the most composed thing he's done in ages."
Thor paused, looking genuinely confused. "But I thought... Chihuahuas were... the ones that are... uh, the most ferocious?" He trailed off, unsure of how to proceed with that logic.
"I mean, sure, if your definition of 'ferocious' is 'yaps so loudly your ears bleed'," Harry said, clearly enjoying himself. "I think we all know Loki's mischief could use a bit of a... rewrite."
Sif—who had finally cornered Loki and scooped him up—shot Harry a dry look. "You're enjoying this more than is entirely appropriate," she commented, and Harry could only grin.
"Oh, come on," he said, shrugging. "This is the guy who decided to invade Earth with an army of space squid and then tried to turn everyone into his subjects. After that, being a dog for a day? It's almost poetic."
Sif's expression softened slightly, her gaze shifting to the tiny Loki—who was currently attempting to gnaw on her boots. "I have to admit, it is... a little amusing."
The door to the palace burst open, and in strode Volstagg, followed closely by Fandral, Hogun, and Thor, all of them looking unreasonably triumphant for a bunch of people chasing after a talking dog. Volstagg, ever the optimist, was the first to speak.
"Ah, the mighty Loki," Volstagg said, "reduced to a mere wretch of a beast!" He guffawed, clapping Thor on the back with enough force to shake the entire hallway. "How the mighty have fallen, eh?"
"Volstagg," Fandral said, grinning, "for once, I believe your words do not fall short of poetic justice."
Loki, seemingly realizing the gig was up, yipped indignantly. "I will have my revenge on all of you!" he barked, but it came out sounding more like a desperate plea than a proper threat.
"I think," Hogun murmured, his usually stern face breaking into a rare smirk, "he's already had it. He's a dog. A small one, at that."
Harry snorted, his face splitting into a grin. "Yeah, I think that's punishment enough for a guy who's tried to take over an entire planet. If anything, this is the universe's way of telling him, 'Hey, you're still a pet in some dimension, buddy.'"
Loki, his fur now starting to stand on end, gave Harry an incredibly unamused glare, one that could melt a normal person. Unfortunately, Harry was not a normal person. He simply raised his eyebrows, meeting the look head-on.
"Listen, you wanted to play the bad boy of the universe, all dramatic speeches and evil plans," Harry said, shaking his head. "But maybe—just maybe—you should've started with something smaller, like a hamster. Start with something manageable before you go full-blown conqueror, huh?"
Loki's eyes narrowed dangerously. "I will—"
"Yeah, yeah, 'I'll get you, my pretty,'" Harry mocked, mimicking Loki's voice in a high-pitched tone. "Seriously, dude. You're just lucky you're not a parrot right now, or I'd be making you say 'polly wants a cracker' for the rest of eternity."
Sif snickered, and even Thor—who was trying to look serious—snorted.
But that didn't stop the inevitable. Thor, though looking utterly baffled, grabbed Loki by the scruff of his neck (in the most heroic way possible, of course), and with a sigh, he said, "We must put an end to this. Loki's actions have threatened Midgard and all the realms."
"Yeah, yeah," Harry said, not feeling too bad for Loki at all. "Get the man a cage, Thor. It's time for Loki to have a permanent vacation in Asgardian prison. I'd say 'enjoy your stay,' but you know..." He flashed Loki a mischievous grin. "You're a dog. You probably won't get that joke."
As the prison doors slammed shut behind Loki, who was still muttering curses under his breath, Thor turned to Harry with a heavy sigh. "You are far too comfortable with all of this, Harry."
Harry shrugged. "I don't make the rules. But I do make the burns."
The door to the prison closed, and with it, Loki's latest "scheme" was temporarily silenced. For now, anyway. But knowing Loki, it was only a matter of time before something else went sideways.
At least, for now, Harry could enjoy the brief peace and quiet—well, as quiet as Asgard ever got.
—
As the dust settled on Loki's canine escapade and the Asgardians began to regain some semblance of normalcy, the focus shifted back to the task at hand: getting Harry home. You'd think that saving the universe from alien invaders, a psychotic trickster god, and a rainbow-colored bridge would've been enough excitement for one week. But no, now they were setting up the ultimate cosmic travel device, and Harry was stuck watching the world's most beautiful scientific magic show unfold right before his eyes.
Thor, still rocking that perfect blend of heroic charm and semi-permanent confusion, clapped Harry on the back with a grin that would've melted anyone else into a puddle of appreciation. "We shall have you back to Midgard before you can say, 'Where did I leave my broomstick?'" he boomed, making everyone else in the room jump slightly at the volume.
Harry, already used to Thor's...enthusiasm, gave him a smirk. "You mean I'll be home before I have to listen to one more of your 'Epic Feasts' stories?"
Thor's booming laugh was like a thunderstorm. "You wound me, young wizard! But yes, I promise the bridge shall be ready."
If there was one thing Thor did well, it was the whole 'master of ceremonies' bit. If there were a contest for who could make interdimensional travel sound like a casual road trip, Thor would win by a landslide. The guy could make buying a pair of socks sound like the climax of an epic saga.
Meanwhile, Sif, standing with her usual air of no-nonsense confidence, raised an eyebrow at the assembly. "Let's hope the 'massive cosmic GPS' works," she said dryly. "The last time we tried something this ambitious, Loki managed to turn the Bifrost into a fountain of rainbow-colored hot sauce."
Harry snorted. "Loki and hot sauce. Sounds like a combination destined for disaster. I bet he'd still blame it on you."
Sif gave him a pointed look. "What makes you think I wasn't the one to clean it up?"
Across the room, Volstagg—who was doing his best to look like he hadn't just eaten his weight in pastries—chimed in with a grin. "Ah, but what is life without a little chaos? Loki certainly makes everything more interesting. If it weren't for his tricks, this place would be as dull as Midgard on a rainy Tuesday!"
"Speak for yourself, Volstagg," Hogun muttered from the corner, eyeing the pile of scrolls and arcane symbols with the kind of serious intensity reserved for someone who had spent too much time around mystics and mischief. "I'd rather not have every day be a reminder of how someone nearly destroyed the Nine Realms over a prideful tantrum."
Harry snickered under his breath. Hogun wasn't wrong, but it didn't stop the banter from flying like sparks off a forge. Fandral, the ever-charming warrior with a grin that could talk its way out of trouble, slapped a hand to his chest dramatically. "Ah, but you forget the fun! There's never a dull moment with Loki around. It's like having a brother—just a brother who happens to set things on fire for fun."
"Only figuratively," Harry muttered. "I'd say it's literally only a problem when it's your face."
Fandral turned to Harry, shaking his head. "Oh, my friend. One day you'll understand. The world needs its mischievous gods, even if they do occasionally morph into dogs."
At this, Harry shot him a look. "I think I'd rather deal with Loki as a dog than Loki as a god. At least the dog's less likely to conquer Earth."
"True," Fandral said with a wink. "But it was amusing seeing him chase his own tail. I almost wondered if he'd actually catch it."
Harry laughed. "I'd pay to see him try."
But all joking aside, the Asgardians were working with impressive focus. Harry couldn't help but admire the sheer amount of teamwork going on here. The engineers, sorcerers, and scholars were pulling together their expertise in ways that Harry, for all his magical education, couldn't fully comprehend. It was like watching a very intense game of wizard-scrabble.
The Rainbow Bridge stood there, a living gateway between realms, glowing with celestial energy as Heimdall—who, let's be honest, was one of the most badass people Harry had ever met—stood stoically at his post. His golden eyes never missed a beat. Harry had tried to engage in small talk with him once, but Heimdall's idea of a conversation was "The realms are at peace." It wasn't exactly conversational gold, but hey, the guy was guarding all of existence, so maybe he had better things to do than debate the latest episode of Game of Thrones.
Heimdall raised his gaze toward Harry as if sensing his thoughts. "The device is nearing completion. You will be sent home soon," he intoned, voice like thunder rolling across a dark sky.
Harry gave him a small smile, though he was still a little freaked out by the fact that the guy could literally see everything. "No pressure, huh?"
Heimdall's gaze softened, just a fraction. "The stars themselves are aligned in your favor. We will not fail."
"Well, that's comforting," Harry muttered, "because I'm already tired of your buddy Loki trying to out-mischief the universe."
Sif chuckled at Harry's words. "He'll always be a challenge to deal with, but at least he keeps things interesting." She turned her attention to the device again, her sharp eyes scanning the progress. "And hopefully, this 'cosmic GPS' will keep us from having another… incident."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I mean, it's not like Loki's going to mess with it, right? I doubt he'd even fit in the device now that he's been reduced to a regular-sized troublemaker."
Thor gave him an enthusiastic slap on the back, sending him stumbling forward. "You'd be surprised, Harry! Loki could cause trouble in an empty room."
Fandral clapped him on the shoulder. "And if he does manage to break it, we'll just blame Volstagg. It's easier that way."
Volstagg's eyes twinkled. "Not the first time, my friends! Not the first time."
With that, Harry let out a small chuckle. Whatever happened next, he knew one thing for sure: when you were surrounded by gods, mischief, and a ton of magical tech, things were never going to be boring. And honestly? That was probably the best kind of adventure.
—
Harry was starting to feel like he was living in one of those action movies where the hero does way too much crazy stuff, and then, just when you think it's over, they do more crazy stuff. Welcome to Asgard: the land of thunder, hammers, and a bunch of overachieving gods. But hey, Harry was managing to hold his own.
It all started with his first sparring session with Thor, which was kind of like challenging a tank to a game of bumper cars. Except this tank had a hammer the size of a small car. Thor, who had about as much subtlety as a herd of charging elephants, swung Mjolnir with all the force of a guy who'd just been told his favorite tavern was out of mead. Harry, on the other hand, was smaller, quicker, and more inclined to dodge than to stand there like a brick wall.
"Is that all you've got, Potter?" Thor boomed, his voice echoing across the training grounds.
Harry grinned. "That's the thing with you, Thor," he said, dodging yet another swing of Mjolnir, "You always think bigger is better. I've got speed and wit, which I'm sure you'll agree is a little more useful than just swinging a giant hammer around like you're trying to swat a fly."
"Fly? I would never swat such a mighty creature!" Thor laughed, giving up his hammer for a second to clap Harry on the back so hard that it sent Harry stumbling forward.
"Geez, Thor," Harry wheezed, shaking his head. "If I wanted to be knocked out, I'd just ask Loki to insult me again."
Thor only laughed louder.
Meanwhile, Sif was observing from the sidelines, clearly impressed. "You've got some moves, Potter," she called out, arms crossed, a small smirk on her face.
"I have to, considering my opponents are literal gods," Harry shot back, dodging yet another wide swipe from Thor.
"I like his attitude," Sif said to Volstagg, who was munching on what appeared to be an entire roasted boar.
"Too bad he can't have my strength," Volstagg grumbled with a mouthful of meat. "And my boar."
"Well, maybe he doesn't need your boar," Fandral said, flexing one arm like he was about to start showing off for an invisible audience. "Maybe he just needs to be more… charming."
Fandral's eyebrows wiggled suggestively, and Harry shot him a flat look. "If I wanted to listen to someone talk about their abs, I'd ask Hogun over there."
Hogun, who was always the stoic one, didn't even flinch at the jab. He just gave Harry a single nod of acknowledgment, which Harry decided was high praise coming from the man who could probably turn a fight into an awkward silence without even trying.
Despite the banter, Harry was holding his own. A combination of his quick reflexes, magical training, and maybe a tiny bit of luck meant that even against Thor, he wasn't looking like a punching bag. The real fun, however, came when he sparred with all three of the Warriors Three at once.
"Now we see what the boy can do!" Volstagg laughed, raising his sword like he was getting ready to take a swing at the most difficult piñata in the world.
"Please don't kill me, Volstagg," Harry said, ducking under the swing. "It's hard enough getting back to Midgard without my body being tossed into some Asgardian crater."
Hogun, as usual, was silent, only nodding and preparing for an attack. Fandral, ever the optimist, was grinning like a man who knew exactly how much fun he was about to have.
The sparring session was a chaotic flurry of steel, spells, and quips. Harry darted around, throwing quick charms at Fandral's sword to make it magically slip from his grip, dodging Volstagg's overzealous swings, and diving behind Hogun for cover.
"You know, Hogun," Harry said, popping out from behind the man like a jack-in-the-box, "I don't think we've had enough bonding time. What do you think? Should I keep making fun of you?"
Hogun just grunted, swinging his sword with a single, sharp move. Harry barely dodged it, though he did end up somersaulting over Fandral's head.
"See, now that's what I call teamwork!" Harry said, giving them a thumbs up. "I mean, I'm the only one actually dodging, but I'll take the win."
At the end of it all, Harry was sweating and bruised, but he had a grin on his face that said "Yeah, I could get used to this."
"Well, well, Potter," Thor said with a clap on Harry's back that sent him stumbling again. "You have earned my respect. Not bad for a mortal."
"Are you saying I'm not a god, Thor?" Harry smirked.
Thor gave him a confused look. "You're a god? With your size and agility? I'd say you're more of a… superhero?"
"Please, don't start calling me that," Harry groaned, rubbing his shoulder. "I don't need more titles. The Boy Who Lived was already confusing enough."
Thor, Sif, and the Warriors Three laughed, all of them exchanging high fives like it was some ridiculous sports game.
"You may not be a god, Harry," Sif said with a playful smile, "But you've earned a spot in Asgard's halls."
"Don't worry, I'll be sure to send a postcard," Harry said, already starting to walk away to prepare for the final phase of his trip back to Midgard.
The day finally arrived, and Harry stood in front of the huge, shimmering device the Asgardians had created. It looked like a combination of an interdimensional train station and a glowing lightning bolt.
"I think I'll miss you guys," Harry said, giving one last grin to the crowd of friends and enemies alike who'd helped him get this far.
"Remember us when you're off saving Midgard," Thor said, slapping Harry on the back so hard that Harry nearly faceplanted.
"Yeah, yeah," Harry muttered, rubbing his aching spine. "But you'd better all be ready for when I come back for a rematch. And next time, no hammers."
"You'll always be welcome in Asgard," Sif said, smiling warmly. "Just don't come back for the fights. You've earned a rest."
"Ha! I'll be back to collect the trophy of winning," Harry joked, giving them all a wink.
And with that, Harry took a deep breath, squared his shoulders, and stepped into the portal. As the swirling vortex enveloped him, he could hear Thor's booming laughter in the background, and for a second, he almost wished he was staying. But only for a second.
As the portal closed behind him, he could only smile. Because, as it turned out, he had just made a lasting impression on Asgard. And he was pretty sure they'd remember Harry Potter, the boy who took on gods, every time they saw a lightning bolt from now on.
—
As Harry stepped onto the rooftop of Avengers Tower, he was immediately hit with what could only be described as a "romantic movie scene." You know the type—the slow-motion, wistful music playing in the background, soft golden lighting, and the quiet exchange of looks between two people who are clearly in love. And there were Tony Stark and Pepper Potts, standing against the backdrop of the New York skyline, completely wrapped up in their little bubble of "we're in love and the world is just a backdrop."
For a second, Harry considered turning around. He wasn't exactly in the mood to crash what looked like an intimate moment, but it was Tony Stark, and if there was anyone who could turn awkwardness into a performance, it was Harry Potter. So he cleared his throat, just enough to break the spell without completely interrupting their vibe.
Tony snapped his head up, looking caught like a teenager caught sneaking a peek at the wrong kind of magazine. His usual cocky grin came a little sheepish, and he wiped at his mouth as if checking for any leftover evidence of his romantic rendezvous.
"Ah, Harry," Tony drawled, his voice smooth like he was delivering a line in an old-school noir film. He casually waved a hand in Pepper's direction, like he was presenting a trophy. "You've caught us in our natural habitat. Just soaking in the view and pretending we're starring in The Notebook. Don't mind us."
Pepper smiled, her expression as warm as a blanket fresh from the dryer. "It's good to see you again, Harry," she said, her voice as soft and welcoming as a gentle breeze.
"Yeah, great to be back," Harry said, grinning. He looked from Tony to Pepper, then back to Tony, his gaze narrowing playfully. "By the way, Tony, I couldn't help but notice... is that lipstick on your face, or were you just getting cozy with the entire New York City skyline?"
Tony's eyes widened comically, and he wiped his face with exaggerated urgency, as if Pepper's lipstick could somehow be its own living, breathing entity that would cause all kinds of damage. Pepper, meanwhile, was holding back laughter with an elegance that only she could manage. The tension of the "romantic moment" was gone, replaced with the shared amusement of the trio.
"Ah, that's the burn I needed," Tony said, still rubbing his face as if trying to erase the evidence. "Good one, Harry."
"Hey, just calling it as I see it," Harry replied with a wink, loving the moment of levity. "No need to thank me for rescuing you from that moment of... vulnerability."
Turning to Harry, Tony smirked, eyes gleaming with that familiar devil-may-care confidence. "So, Potter," he began, voice dripping with sarcasm. "How was your little detour to Asgard? You find any shiny, golden apples or were you too busy making Loki's day by showing him just how much chaos you can handle?"
Harry snickered, leaning against the ledge as he remembered his time in the realm of gods and mischief. "Oh, Asgard. Yeah, saw the usual—sword fights, mystical beings, Thor flexing inappropriately. But honestly, the highlight was definitely Loki being turned into a Chihuahua. That was a great way to end the trip."
Tony's laughter was loud and contagious, bouncing off the rooftop as if it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. "I need to see that. Loki, looking like he should be wearing a collar and getting carried around in one of those little bags," Tony chuckled, wiping away a fake tear. "Well, welcome back to Earth, Potter. I'm guessing you didn't make too much of a mess this time."
Harry grinned wide, flashing his best "I'm about to cause some trouble" look. "Well, Tony, you know me. Chaos is my middle name. Well, it's actually James, but let's pretend it's Chaos for the sake of this moment."
"Ah, right. Chaos Potter. That has a nice ring to it." Tony raised a brow. "Just try not to blow up anything while you're here, yeah?"
"Blow things up? Me?" Harry asked, feigning innocence. "Never." Then he added with a wicked grin, "Unless you've got a stash of fireworks hidden around here somewhere..."
Pepper rolled her eyes, though there was a fondness to her gaze. "You two are ridiculous," she said with a smile that was half exasperated, half amused.
JARVIS's voice rang through the air, dry as ever, "Mr. Stark, Ms. Potts, Mr. Potter, I've taken the liberty of monitoring the traffic situation. It appears it's now safe for you to make your way back down without causing a small disaster."
Tony smirked. "You hear that, Harry? You've got a small disaster waiting to happen. Don't say I didn't warn you."
Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, I'm just here for the good company and the witty banter. But if I happen to cause a small explosion—well, I think we both know I've earned it."
With that, Harry gave Tony a mock salute. "Don't worry, Stark. I'll try to behave. But no promises." And with that, he turned to leave, feeling a familiar sense of warmth in his chest. Being with these two—along with JARVIS in the background, doing his best to keep everything under control—made him feel like he had found a place he could finally call home.
As Harry made his way toward the elevator, he couldn't help but glance back at Tony and Pepper, sharing another private moment under the stars. It was nice, he thought. It was good to have a home base after everything. Maybe, just maybe, life wasn't all chaos after all. But then again, where would the fun be in that?
And as he stepped into the elevator, ready to face whatever the world had next in store for him, one thing was certain: he was glad to be back on Earth. The Avengers were family, even if they did keep him on his toes.
"Next stop," Harry muttered to himself, "a little bit of chaos."
—
As Harry and Tony swaggered down the gleaming hallways of Avengers Tower, Tony was in full-on "tour guide" mode. He practically bounced from room to room, gesturing grandly like he was about to unveil the secrets of the universe—except, you know, it was just the Avengers' daily grind.
"Alright, Harry," Tony said, holding out his hands as if he was about to conduct some grand symphony. "Let's get you up to speed. Natasha's off doing what Natasha does best—tracking down leftover HYDRA vermin. Steve's up at the Helicarrier, cracking the whip over some SHIELD newbies. Bruce is, well, buried in his lab. You know, his usual routine—tinkering with things that definitely shouldn't exist. And Clint..." Tony paused, clearly lost in thought. "Clint's probably off playing hide and seek in the air ducts again. Seriously, I don't know how he doesn't get lost in there. I'd need a map just to find the bathroom."
Harry couldn't help but chuckle. "Sounds like you're all about keeping busy," he said, glancing around the tower, which was a flurry of activity. From the labs to the lounge areas, it seemed like every inch of the place was humming with some kind of high-tech chaos. "Any word on Fury and the HYDRA cleanup crew?"
Tony's usual smirk faded just a bit, and the shift in his demeanor was so sharp it was almost like he'd flipped a switch. "Yeah, Fury's deep in that mess," he said, voice suddenly serious. "But with your intel, we've got a good lead. We're going to track down those HYDRA rats, even if we have to play dirty to get them."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm down for the dirty part," he said, a spark of determination lighting up his eyes. "Just let me know when it's time to turn things into a full-on circus. I've got a few tricks up my sleeve."
Tony gave him a knowing look and snapped his fingers. "JARVIS, pull up Strucker's file. Let's give Harry the grand tour of our villain of the month."
With a whoosh, a hologram of Baron Strucker flickered to life between them, hovering in mid-air like a bad movie villain. The German scientist had a face that screamed "evil mastermind" and a posture that said, "I'm definitely up to no good."
"Ah, Strucker," Tony said with a dramatic sigh, looking at the hologram like it was an old acquaintance he couldn't quite shake. "This guy's been making waves in Sokovia. Small country, big problems. He's been running all sorts of experiments on civilians—creating Enhanced freaks, the kind that make even us look like amateurs. The team's been chomping at the bit to take him down, but we figured we'd wait for you to come back. Wouldn't want to steal your thunder, right?"
Harry narrowed his eyes at the image of Strucker. His jaw tightened. "Good of you to wait," he said, his tone cold but controlled. "But now that I'm back, we're taking him down. No more games. I want to make sure his 'experiments' stop permanently. You know, the whole 'saving humanity' thing."
Tony gave a slow nod, his usual bravado temporarily replaced by something more serious. He met Harry's eyes with the sort of silent understanding that came with knowing the stakes. "Glad to hear it, kid. We've been sitting on this one long enough. It's about time we really put an end to his little science project."
JARVIS, ever the voice of reason (and sarcasm), piped up from nowhere. "I've just cross-referenced the Baron's locations with the latest satellite data. It appears there's a high probability he's hiding out in a facility near the eastern border of Sokovia. Shall I prepare the coordinates?"
"Well, look at you, JARVIS. Always prepared," Tony said, giving the AI a little nod of approval. "Alright, Potter, looks like we've got a date with destiny—or at least with a very mad scientist and his super messed up lab experiments."
Harry cracked his knuckles, a sly grin spreading across his face. "You know what they say, Stark—nothing gets the blood pumping like a good old-fashioned villain hunt."
Tony flashed him a grin that could only be described as "I'm about to get in way over my head, but I'm still going to enjoy every second of it." "You're telling me. Alright, let's get this show on the road. You with me, Potter?"
Harry clapped Tony on the back with a grin that had all the confidence of someone who'd been in the hero game way too long to ever back down from a challenge. "You bet your arc reactor I am. Just don't blink, Stark. I wouldn't want you to miss my grand entrance."
With that, they sealed their commitment with a handshake that was half "let's do this" and half "we're definitely about to break a few laws of physics in the process." Tony's smile turned wicked, and Harry's eyes glinted with the promise of mayhem.
"Alright," Tony said, already pulling up schematics and coordinating with the team. "This is gonna be fun. Strap in, Potter. Things are about to get very interesting."
And with that, they walked off, ready to deal with whatever chaos Strucker had cooked up next—together, as if the Avengers and Harry Potter had always been meant to be on the same team.
—
When Harry walked into the Avengers Tower for the reunion, it was like he'd just stepped into the ultimate season finale. He was greeted by a mixture of high-fives, nods, and a couple of sarcastic quips that made him feel like he'd never left. It was the kind of welcome that made you feel like you were the star of a movie where the entire cast was definitely in on the joke.
First up, Natasha gave him that subtle nod, the kind that said, "I see you," as if she was acknowledging an old friend she was never going to admit she actually liked. She wasn't one for public displays of affection, but Harry knew that meant she was probably about to punch someone in the face and he was going to get a front-row seat to the show.
Then came Steve. The man's handshake could have been the official greeting for every "Greatest Hero" award ever given. It was warm enough to make you feel like you were being welcomed into the world's most exclusive, well-armed club. Captain America, ever the professional, didn't miss a beat.
"Good to see you, Harry," Steve said, giving him a nod that spoke volumes about their respect for each other.
"Yeah, yeah," Harry shot back, smirking. "Let me guess—no real vacation, huh? Can't blame you. Who'd want to leave all this fabulous weather and adorable villainous plots?"
Steve shot him a look, but there was a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "You'd be surprised how good it feels to not be on a beach with a piña colada."
Then, of course, Clint. Clint Barton, aka the guy who could shoot an apple off your head from 300 yards and make it look like he was just casually strolling through a field of daisies. Clint's grin was wide, the kind of grin that suggested he'd missed Harry's back-and-forth banter more than he let on.
"Harry!" Clint said, slapping him on the back with a little too much enthusiasm. "Missed you, buddy. Who else am I going to torture with all my sarcastic remarks?"
"Uh, that's a tough call," Harry shot back. "I'd say you're about to make yourself a full-time position. Maybe even a promotion to 'Chief Sarcasm Officer' for the team."
Bruce, ever the calming presence in the room, gave Harry a smile that was a little more restrained but just as warm. There was something comforting about it—like Harry could totally imagine Bruce being the kind of guy who handed you a cup of tea after a long day of fighting giant robots and throwing punches with intergalactic supervillains.
"Hey, Harry," Bruce said, his voice soft but genuine. "Glad you're back."
"I'm glad I'm back too," Harry said, raising an eyebrow. "No more listening to Tony complain about missing me. I mean, really. How much does a guy have to hear about 'how Harry makes life so much more interesting' before it gets creepy?"
Tony, of course, was listening, standing nearby with his trademark smirk plastered all over his face. "It's true," he said, shrugging like there was no shame in it. "I've missed you, Potter. It's not easy finding someone with the same level of… flare for chaos. You're like my personal tornado of destruction."
Harry chuckled. "I'll take that as a compliment. You're welcome, Stark."
As the banter flowed, the Avengers all gathered in the common area, swapping stories and filling Harry in on everything he'd missed. It felt like a real family reunion—if your family had superpowers, gadgets, and a mutual love for making life just a little more dangerous than it needed to be. But Harry didn't mind. After all, these were the kind of people who made the world go round.
With Thor off doing... whatever gods did in their downtime (probably lifting mountains or making more thunder than was strictly necessary), the team had rallied together for what was going to be their next big mission: taking down Baron Strucker and his nasty little HYDRA operation in Sokovia.
Steve, ever the leader, took center stage like he'd been practicing this speech in front of a mirror. He stood tall, confident, and ready to send any villain straight to whatever hell they came from.
"Alright, team," Steve began, his voice steady, measured, and somehow still carrying the weight of a hundred battles. "We're here for one thing—taking down Baron Strucker and his charming little gang of HYDRA operatives. Strucker's been running illegal experiments, creating some of the most dangerous 'Enhanced' individuals we've ever come across. Our job? We storm the facility, take Strucker down, and make sure no more innocent lives are lost."
He paused, letting his words sink in like the calm before a storm. "It won't be easy, but we've trained for this. We're not just fighting for ourselves. We're fighting for everyone out there who still believes in what we do. And when this is over, we'll show the world exactly what it means to be an Avenger."
Steve gave them all one of those looks—one that made you feel like you could do anything. Like you could take down a dozen HYDRA goons with one arm tied behind your back.
Clint raised his hand like a kid who definitely didn't have the right answer. "So, uh, what's the plan here, Cap? You know, for the 'blow stuff up' portion of the evening?"
Steve shot him a deadpan look, the kind that only Captain America could pull off without breaking character. "You'll get your chance, Barton."
"Great. Can't wait to get my hands on something sharp," Clint said, his grin widening.
With that, the team split off to gear up. The room buzzed with excitement as everyone grabbed their gear—armor, weapons, gadgets—and started prepping. You could feel the air crackling with anticipation. This was the Avengers. They weren't just going to fight HYDRA—they were going to make sure Strucker regretted ever thinking he could mess with them.
Harry, feeling that familiar rush of adrenaline, didn't miss a beat. "Alright, Avengers," he said with a grin that could only mean one thing. "Let's go make some memories—preferably ones that involve lots of explosions and less paperwork."
And with that, the team suited up, ready to face whatever trouble awaited them in Sokovia. Because when you had the Avengers on your side, you didn't just face the enemy—you owned the battlefield.
---
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