Fickleness of Fate | Loki Laufeyson

Chapter Three

Harry had never witnessed anything like the sensor readings on the screen in front of her. She stood beside other scientists who were just as baffled as her, all of them scratching their heads in confusion.

The data didn't conform to any known structure or form of energy that they had on file. The metal alone was not on the periodic table, seemingly completely alien to Earth. And Harry couldn't even contemplate the electronic signature emitting from the object.

She breathed out a sigh, rolling her shoulders in frustration. How she longed for the days at Hogwarts where herself, Hermione and Ron would sit around the Black Lake during the summer after exams. The sound of the wildlife around them was blissful, the giant squid within the water rising every so often, sending a ripple of waves towards them that would brush the shore. But then again, she also had to consider that Voldemort was actively trying to murder her within those years, and she also had the added benefit of returning to the Dursleys care during the school breaks.

Maybe this data isn't so bad after all, she told herself, eyes set upon the screen with new determined vigour.

Though as she raised her hand towards the laptop, a loud beeping blared through the overhead speakers, drawing everyone's attention from their work. The S.H.I.E.L.D agents present startled for a second, looking around in surprise. But then they proceeded orderly towards the closest exit.

"Agent Potter," the nearest scientist, who she had come to know as Alex, called, "Please follow us."

Harry glanced between the man and the hammer that was situated at the bottom of the stairs, not even ten metres away. Harsh voices could be heard shouting orders nearby, enforcing that this was clearly not a practice drill.

"I'll be close behind you." Harry responded, stalking in the opposite direction towards the alien object they were investigating.

She could sense the man's hesitation, but ultimately the scientist decided the best course of action was to leave. Harry internally sagged with relief. She knew from experience that it was better to remove any liability from the field, and the only possible piece of interest within the facility was the hammer that was close to her own location.

If the muggles weren't present, she would have erected wards surrounding the object to ensure that any intruders wouldn't be able to steal it. Though considering that the hammer was currently encased within stone and immovable, she wasn't exactly concerned. Which led to the question of why someone would break into this facility? Did someone believe they could truly remove the hammer?

The shouts sounded louder from her position on the upper railing, directly before the stairs that led downwards towards the object of suspicion. The elder wand burned against her forearm, strapped in place by a holster, punishing the witch as if offended that it wasn't going to be used to fight. That the wand had been betrayed in favour of muggle combat.

But instead, her fists tightened at her sides in preparation, eyes focused on where the noise was originating. She had been trained by a number of tutors in the art of muggle fighting, in case she was ever unable to defend herself with magic. And she had to admit, there was a calmness that always settled over her when she had to use her fists in battle. But she had thought best not to psychoanalyse herself, knowing already that it probably stemmed from the Dursley's abuse.

A stone she was happy to leave unturned.

A body flew through the air, an agent if she had to assume noting the black uniform, from the opposite end of the corridor. They slammed into the tent curtain, ripping the material clean through the middle. The agent did not rise again, knocked unconscious.

Heavy footsteps shook the floor below with a slow and precise rhythm, as if this intruder knew that there would be another opponent waiting around the corner. And they were right. Harry was breathing steadily, waiting for the threat to be exposed.