On return to Stark Tower, Harry, Sirius, the Avengers and the Warriors Three had immediately been greeted by Remus. "Hello," he said, smiling. "And welcome back. I take it you enjoyed yourselves?"
"Harry's got a girlfriend," Sirius said, grinning.
Harry rolled his eyes. "Diana is not my girlfriend," he said.
"Yet," Tony interjected, smirking. Harry made an annoyed sound and glowered at his godfather and friend, both of whom grinned all the more.
Remus coughed, seeking to cut off the impending squabble. "Is this Diana a friend of yours?" he asked, interested.
"Sure," Harry said, nodding in a little relief. "She's great," he began, then frowned at Sif. "Sif?"
Sif was staring at Remus, eyes slightly widened, breathing quickened, and every muscle in her body tensed. Remus was looking at her with a dawning sense of resignation. Harry was puzzled, and shared a confused look with Fandral. The rest, however, seemed to be figuring it out.
"Oh dear," Loki said quietly.
"We should have thought of this," Thor said grimly.
"What's done is done, or more accurately, what's not done is not done," Loki said.
Thor nodded. "Sif," he said suddenly, voice a bark so sharp and commanding that Harry found himself instinctively coming to attention. "Calm yourself. You are among friends."
Sif jumped slightly, catching her breath, and her gaze shifted to Thor. "I am sorry, Thor," she said quietly. "I recognised…"
"The taint. The curse of Fenris," Loki said quietly. "A creature that we," he added, for the benefit of others, indicating himself, Thor, Sif and the Warriors Three. "Have history with."
"Ah," Remus said quietly, understanding in his tone. "You can feel my curse?" he asked.
"I recognise… something about you," Sif said, tone guarded. "It feels to me like Fenris."
"Like many Asgardians, Sif is sensitive to magic to a certain degree," Loki explained. "She does not wield magic, but she has a sense for it, one that is stronger than most, and one that has proven useful in battle many a time."
"Indeed," Thor agreed.
"I'll go," Remus said quietly.
"No!"
The word cracked like a whip, and everyone stared at Sif in surprise. "Do not leave," she said quietly. "You are a close friend of Thor's, a teacher of his son, a friend of some of my dearest friends. I would not have you leave on my account."
"If my presence upsets you," Remus said. "It would be cruel of me to stay."
Sif shook her head sharply. "It would not, since you stay at my behest," she said, in a tone that very much said that that would be the end of it.
"I think we should take this inside," Steve said quietly.
They did, and a few minutes later, they had all arranged themselves in the living room.
As Harry looked around the room in question, he saw that it had been subtly and silently divided into two camps.
The Warriors Three had, apparently completely unconsciously, arranged themselves in a protective shield around Sif. Volstagg sat on one side, bulk dwarfing the chair he had sat in, resembling nothing so much as a bear that has, for now, decided to be amiable. Hogun and Fandral on the other side, Hogun in a state of casual watchfulness, hooded eyes sweeping the room, giving off the impression of an eagle at rest, whereas Fandral had draped himself over a chair in so louche a fashion that it should have been illegal, idly drumming his fingers on the arm of a chair.
Sif herself had sat down, and was looking casual in a rather forced sort of way. It took a lot to unsettle Lady Sif. And when it did, it tended to communicate itself to the Warriors Three, who she generally treated like exasperating, boisterous but much loved brothers. In turn, they regarded her as a sister, and though they could be exceptionally dense, as is the way with brothers, they were far from stupid. And though they followed her lead in battle and knew that she could beat any two of them at once, they were also very protective.
On the other side of the room sat Remus. He was flanked on one side by Sirius, who was looking utterly serious (and not in the mood to make stupid puns about his name) and dangerously attentive. This was not the prankster godfather. This was the auror who had earned the nickname 'Marauder' in its darker sense on the battlefield.
Bruce flanked him on the other side, face carefully bland and expressionless. Though he looked small, harmless and cuddly, the power of the Hulk was well known throughout the Nine Realms.
The rest of the Avengers had arranged themselves so that, by and large, they were nearer to Remus than Sif. The exceptions were his father, who stubbornly sat in the middle, flanked by Harry himself and Jane, Pepper and Natasha, who were eyeing both camps carefully, and Loki, who sat just to the right of Fandral, fingers steepled.
There was a definite sense of tension in the room.
"I think," Steve said, voice calm but ringing with authority. "That we all need some explanation about what just happened."
There was a round of nods.
"I feel I should apologise," Sif said softly. "I have, as Loki has mentioned, bad past experiences with those suffering the curse of Fenris. There is a Midgardian word for them, is there not?"
"Yeah, people," Tony snapped, getting a supporting growl from Sirius
"Tony, Sirius," Steve said warningly, as the tension rose a notch or two.
Both subsided, but glowered.
"The word is werewolf, Lady Sif," Remus said calmly, while giving a look that said to Tony that he was grateful for his support, but he could fight his own battles, thank you very much. He didn't even need to look at Sirius. "Have you had an unfortunate encounter with one of my kind before?"
Harry was thoroughly surprised. He'd not expected the… well, to be frank, kindly and harmless, Professor Lupin to be a werewolf. Though it would explain why he generally looked worn out and Harry's father had noted that he found it hard to find jobs.
"Not quite. With Fenris," Sif said quietly. "I have encountered shapeshifters before, and Skrulls excepted –"
"Alien shapeshifters," Thor supplied.
"I have not had a problem with them. Loki is one, and of our disputes, that has not been among them. I have even spent time among the Wolf People, and befriended Prince Hrimhari, descendants of Fenris," Sif said. "Asgardians of a kindred who can shift between wolf and man and halfway between at will."
"Then what caused the problem?" Harry asked, puzzled.
"Fenris was, and remains, a creature of powerful magic," Loki said. "He alternates forms between a large man, larger even than Volstagg, and a wolf the size of a small house." He looked grim. "And he is evil. He abuses those weaker than he and delights in it. He is cruel simply because it amuses him to be so, and he destroys because that is all he desires in the end. Destruction. His presence is also quite pervasive and memorable."
"I heard stories of him when I was young," Sif said. "We all did. And I desired to prove myself."
"So you went looking for him," Remus said, with a sigh.
Sif blinked in surprise.
"I grew up with Sirius and James, Thor as he was back then," Remus explained. "And I am a teacher. I know young people reasonably well."
"Sometimes, Moony," Sirius said after a moment, "You sound like your bum is stuffed with tweed."
"What is… tweed?" Sif asked.
"And how would one stuff someone's rear with it?" Fandral asked, curious. "Would it require use of a device, a spell, or merely great force?"
The mental image that conjured broke the tension, and most of the group were at least sniggering, if not outright laughing. Even Natasha had a slight smile on her face.
Then Sif looked serious. "Remus is right," she said. "I went looking for him. He was supposedly impossible to kill, but I thought that that merely meant that no one who fought had been good enough. And in my arrogance, I thought I was capable of doing what they could not. Eventually, after a month's travel, following rumours, I found him as a man and challenged him to battle. We fought, I lost." Her face was expressionless. "Then he transformed me into a wolf and treated me as a toy. And once I provided no more entertainment, he ate me."
"He ate you?" Tony asked, incredulous.
"Yes," Sif said, voice distant. "I was already much chewed, so he simply swallowed me. I reached down with my belt knife and cut my way out. Then, I managed to find my left hand."
Eyes widened around the room.
Sif smiled mirthlessly. "Yes. My left hand. He'd bitten it off. Presumably he wanted a taster," she said, with dissonant calm. "I managed to find my left hand while he was struck down by pain, and then found my way to the nearest village. The local healer managed to preserve my hand, and in a matter of hours, Queen Frigga herself arrived to reattach it." She rotated her left wrist and pulled down her sleeve, to reveal white pucker marks around her wrist. Steve looked horrified, Bruce and Natasha looked grim, Clint's expression was carefully blank and Tony looked like he was about to be sick.
"There's no stiffness," Sif continued conversationally, as if talking about the weather. "Though it has been slightly looser ever since."
"In the myths," Harry said slowly. "That happened. But it was Tyr who had his hand bitten off."
"It was his right hand, and the circumstances were different," Loki noted. "Yes." He looked grim. "There are grains of truth in some of those stories."
"I'm sorry," Steve whispered.
"You did not commit the crime," Sif said calmly. "So you are not to blame." She shook her head. "Anyway, I was afraid of wolves for a long time afterwards." She shot a glance at Loki, who looked rather ashamed, but said nothing. It wasn't difficult to deduce the sort of pranks a shapeshifter and illusionist might play if feeling particularly spiteful.
"And now it is merely werewolves," Remus said heavily. "Under the circumstances, I really cannot blame you."
Sif shook her head. "No blame attaches to you," she said firmly. "And I hold you no grudge. That would be supremely unjust of me. It is merely that I have…"
"Unresolved issues," Loki suggested.
"Yeah, you'll fit right in," Tony drawled. "I'm an alcoholic with daddy issues, Bruce is a Hulk, Loki used to be insane and evil and have more epic daddy issues than I thought possible, Steve spent seventy years as a popsicle –"
"A frozen Midgardian sweet," Loki supplied.
"Right, and we have two former assassins who have more issues than I could list with a psychology textbook," Tony said. He gave Sif a crooked smile. "Thor's the best balanced of all of us, and he used to be a dead wizard."
"I spent twelve years in a horrible prison, and to be honest, I'm still a little mad," Sirius volunteered, albeit a little grudgingly.
"Still?" Remus murmured. "More like, 'always were'."
"Everyone knows what happened to me," Harry piped up.
"Yup. We're all crazy here," Tony drawled.
"How tactful," Loki muttered. "But not at all inaccurate."
Sif looked slightly puzzled.
"We don't blame you for being traumatised," Steve said kindly, by way of explanation.
"The reaction, on the other hand," Sirius muttered. Remus simply looked at him. Sirius sulked.
"Thank you," Sif said quietly. "You have been very understanding."
"Well, I can tell you from personal experience that being eaten isn't a very pleasant experience, even if you're doing it on purpose," Tony said.
Everyone but the Avengers stared at him.
"He flew into the mouth of a Chitauri Leviathan to destroy it from the inside," Thor explained. "It was a most fell act of warfare."
"You didn't tell me about this," Pepper said, in tones that promised suffering unless he had a very good explanation as to why he hadn't.
"I nearly died in an alien quadrant of space after flying a nuclear missile through a wormhole," Tony said, slightly caustically. "I was kinda worried about other things during and after the battle."
Harry poked him and frowned. "She's worried about you. Be nice, please," he said firmly.
Tony stared at him in surprise, then at Pepper and sighed. "Sorry. I… well, with the whole me nearly dying through the portal thing, I felt you had enough to worry about. I didn't want to upset you."
"Better I hear about it then than later," Pepper said, kissing his cheek, and smiling wryly. "And that makes a change from the years you spent making my life a nightmare," she added, tone joking.
"Oh come on, I was hardly ever sober enough to have bothered you on purpose even if I'd wanted to," Tony complained.
Before Pepper could reply, there was a tapping sound at the window.
"Sir, there is an owl outside that seems to be requesting entry," JARVIS said, the AI managing to sound surprised.
Fandral jumped, hand on his sword hilt and Hogun and Sif began looking around suspiciously, while Volstagg just looked puzzled.
Loki, nominating himself as tour guide, explained, "The voice, JARVIS, is a sort of artificial spirit that serves Tony. Or more accurately, treats Tony like an unruly child. Something that is not entirely unwarranted."
Tony absently gave Loki the finger, then said, "An owl?"
"A tawny owl, sir. And it's carrying a letter."
"Is the letter red?" Thor asked suspiciously.
"No, Mr Odinson. Indeed, it seems to be a rather pleasant shade of cream."
"You can let it in safely," Thor said. "It's just bearing a message."
"Sir?"
"What the hell," Tony said, shrugging. "Why not? Message delivering owls don't even rate after those talking ravens."
The window opened and the owl fluttered in, dropped the letter right onto Sirius' head with an air of expert aim, then flew to perch on the back of one of the chairs. The chair began to spin, but this didn't seem to discomfort the owl in the slightest.
While everyone stared at the slowly spinning owl, Sirius slowly picked up the letter, frowned, then sniffed at it. His eyes widened. "Merlin's balls," he whispered. "I know that perfume." He glanced over at the dissonantly serene bird. "And that owl too."
"I recognise it too," Remus said distantly, sounding utterly shocked.
"That would make three of us," Thor said quietly.
"Uh, care to fill us in?" Tony asked. "Is Athena sending us a text or something?"
"No," Thor said. "That owl belongs to someone else entirely." He turned to Sirius. "Though I am surprised that you recognised her perfume."
"She's the only person who wears it," Sirius said. "And I was snooping in her rooms once and sniffed it."
"And she booby trapped it," Thor predicted.
Sirius nodded sourly. "That she did."
"I always wondered why you spent an entire week smelling like you'd been dipped in a vat of perfume," Remus said idly. "And your hair glittered, as I recall."
Sirius looked sour as Thor grinned in remembrance. "Lily teased you mercilessly," he said. "She referred to you 'the prettiest princess' all week."
"I like her," Tony said.
Pepper hummed her agreement, and smirked as Sirius sulked, while Jane grinned.
Darcy was not so restrained. "Everything you've said about Harry's mom makes her sound fucking awesome," she said. She ruffled Harry's hair. "Hell, just look at her kid. He's all the evidence you need."
Harry blushed. "Who's the letter from?"
"Wanda Maximoff," Thor said. "She is the legendary Scarlet Witch."
Sif and the Warrior's Three all reacted as if this was a name that they knew. Knew and respected.
"And," Thor continued, looking his son right in the eye. "She is also your godmother."
Harry's heart nearly stopped. This woman, this friend of his mother's, who he'd heard of as little more than a legend… was his godmother?!
"Why didn't she…?" he began, then trailed off. It was just like with his grandfather Odin all over again, Harry thought as the same feelings of sadness, anger, betrayal and confusion rose in him like a tidal wave.
"Take you in?" Thor finished, looked puzzled. And angry.
Harry nodded paingully
"I do not know. Truly I do not. I have my suspicions, but none of them would stop the Wanda I knew if she set her mind to raising you as her own. And I see no reason why not – she utterly adored you."
"I suspect that one you might be forgetting is her enemies, Thor," Loki said. "And her teacher, Doctor Strange." He turned to address Sif and the Warrior's Three. "Doctor Strange is Midgard's Sorcerer Supreme."
There was a moment's pause. Volstagg, of all people, got it first, nodding grimly, followed by Sif, Hogun, and eventually, Fandral.
"Um, what's a 'Sorcerer Supreme'?" Darcy asked. "Some kind of boss wizard?"
"In some ways," Loki agreed. "Though they do not rule. It is an office, passed from master to apprentice, whose holder is tasked with protecting the mortal realm from, essentially, creatures that make Cthulu look positively cuddly."
"There is a Cthulu plushie, y'know," Darcy pointed out, but nodded. "Okay, so, major badness."
"Quite. And discounting them, there are very many dark sorcerers, dark creatures, who exist in the physical realms of this universe, by and large, and would love to have a way to get to the Sorcerer Surpreme. That is why they are often very sparing in their choice of apprentice, as the chances of a horrible death are worryingly high," Loki explained. "If Wanda had taken Harry in, she might have been putting him in untold danger."
Thor nodded slowly. "She thought the Dursleys were a lesser evil," he said. "I can understand her thinking, logically." He looked grim. "That is not to say that I like it."
Harry would previously have objected to this assertion, but recent experience with the Disir told him that common or garden dark lords or their restless spirits/memories were far from the worst beings in the universe. However, he found himself wholly agreeing with the last part of what his father had said.
"I do not think she would expect you to, Thor, Harry, either of you," Remus interjected softly. "The Wanda I knew was very compassionate. It would have broken her heart to leave Harry with the Dursley family, no matter how many rational reasons there were for doing so."
"Yes," Thor said slowly. "The Wanda I knew was the same." He frowned thoughtfully. "Maybe Stephen warned her to stay away."
"Why would she listen?" Sif asked, frowning.
"Because Stephen is centuries old and wise with it. He has some gift of foresight, like my father. When makes a prediction, which he does sparingly, it never, ever, fails to come true," Thor said seriously. "People disregard his warnings at their peril."
"Then why is she contacting you now?" Harry asked, voice nearly rising to a wail.
"Actually, she isn't," Sirius said quietly, examining the letter.
"What?"
"The letter. It's addressed to you, Harry. Not any of us," Sirius said, looking serious, and reaching over to hand the letter to Harry.
And indeed, on the front of the envelope in a neat, flowing script was the name, Harry Potter (Thorson). Harry slowly opened it, hands shaking with trepidation and excitement.
Dear Harry, the letter read.
By now, you may or may not know that I am your godmother. If you know that, and have not cast this letter aside in disgust, then you know that I was your mother's best friend. You must also know that I wanted to take you in, desperately. I had none of the impediments of Sirius and Remus, and I was feted as a heroine by the Wizarding World, even if I could bear to live in it no longer.
But I didn't. Not because of you, but because of me. Or more precisely, my enemies.
I do not know if your father has told you, but I was apprentice to Doctor Strange, the Sorcerer Supreme, and with him and my former partner, John Constantine, I fought dark sorcerers and sorceresses, demons and abominations of that could have been, should have been, and never were. Things that would prey on a small child such as yourself without mercy. All I could give any child in my care was a life under siege, something which led to two of the hardest decisions of my life. And one of those was not taking you in.
For the first few years, I tried to send you birthday and Christmas cards and presents, but as I quickly discovered, all the cards were burnt or ripped up by the Dursleys, and all the toys were either destroyed or given to their fat pig of a son.
I watched over you for a while, and occasionally sensed another presence doing the same (I assume it was your uncle, barred from intervening), but then stopped, simply because it was breaking my heart. As I write, I know it sounds cowardly, and I feel horrible for saying it, but it was true.
Nevertheless, while I was there, I did what I could.
You may remember me as the brown haired lady who once drove off that gang of bullies your cousin led and comforted you, or you may not. You were rather young at the time, no more than eight. I remember that moment as clearly as if it were yesterday. You were malnourished, sad, lonely and yet... you were kind. As goodhearted a child as one could wish for, despite it all. You reminded me so much of your parents that it hurt, and I so desperately wanted to take you away, protect you and love you like you deserved.
That moment above all others, I wanted to whisk you away from the Dursleys so badly, but I could not. I was not allowed to intervene, both because of the danger it would put you in and because Albus Dumbledore and my old mentor, Doctor Strange, warned of the consequences.
After that, however, I made the second hard decision. I abandoned you entirely, simply because I could not bear to watch you suffer any longer. That decision was my own, unadvised and unguided by any will other than my own. Therefore, I bear full responsibility for it, no one else. Not even Stephen Strange.
Stephen Strange was another who watched out for you, and in many ways, was a second father to your mother and I. He also has some gift of prophecy. Not like that idiot Trelawney, who has squandered what genuine precognitive power she had, but a real degree of foresight. Maybe it was that. Maybe it was, like Albus, his age, wisdom and his prediction of the consequences of my intervention based on what he had seen before, but either way, I followed their advice.
I must sound pathetic to you, hiding behind fears, excuses and the words of others, and as I have said before, I feel as pathetic even as I write to you, my godson.
But they are all I have, and no matter how justified, how reasonable, I will regret them until my dying day.
Now, all I can say is this: I am sorry. I am so sorry that I could not give you the love and attention that you deserve.
My only comfort is that you are with family that loves you now. Your father adored you from your very first breath, even befor, like you mother. Your godfather fell in love with you as soon as he saw you. Much like I did. And make no mistake, I love you, my much wronged godson. You were a beautiful, friendly, happy baby, a beautiful, friendly and kind child and I've no doubt that you've grown into a brave, handsome, friendly, kind and funny young man.
If you want to write back, I would truly love it. Your owl will be able to find me. If not, I will understand.
For now, I will merely say, Merry Christmas, godson. I wish you as Merry a Christmas as you could desire, a happy New Year and a bright future.
Your loving godmother,
Wanda Maximoff
P.S. Please give my regards to your father, Sirius, Remus and to Nicholas. And tell them that I'm sorry.
As Harry finished, he found that there were tears rolling down his cheeks and that he was shaking in earnest. He stood. "If you'll excuse me," he managed. "I…"
"Go on," Pepper said gently. "Take some time if you need to."
Thor reached out and took his son's free hand, squeezing it reassuringly. "We will be here when you need us," he said.
Harry nodded, then left the room as quickly as he could without actually fleeing. He had much to think about. And… he needed to be alone right now.
OoOoO
Thor watched his son leave, and sighed. "I hope he'll be all right," he said lamely.
"He will be…" Loki began confidently. Then he sighed. "In truth, he will probably be fine. But it could take him a while. You saw how he reacted to Odin."
Thor chuckled softly. "Indeed I did. I do not think anyone has ever shouted at father like that and got away with it," he said wryly.
"Harry shouted at the Allfather?" Fandral asked, incredulous, before looking in the direction Harry had gone with a look of stunned admiration. "He is either courageous beyond measure or mad beyond reckoning."
"He was angry, and rightfully so. Father knew this, and it was in private, so he could afford to be much more forbearing," Thor said mildly. "And he is much like his mother, and Jane," he added, giving Jane a warm smile. "In that he absolutely refuses to be intimidated. By anyone. Ever."
Jane flushed slightly. "Stop it," she said. "I'm not brave."
"So braving the wrath of the Destroyer is an everyday matter, is it?" Loki asked, tone deceptively mild.
Sif and Fandral looked slightly grim at this reminder of what Loki had once done. Volstagg ignored them, looking in the direction Harry had gone with a thoughtful expression on his face. And Hogun was as expressionless as an overdose of botox.
"Well, no," Jane began, then sighed. "I'm going to lose this argument, aren't I? No matter what I say, I'm going to lose."
"Yes," Loki said happily. "Yes, you are."
Jane glowered at him. "Thor, can I hit your brother?"
"Be my guest," Thor said, gesturing expansively. "But believe me, it will only make him worse."
Jane duly hurled a hardback book at Loki. He didn't even bother trying to dodge. It hit him square in the forehead, and bounced off. Then he reached down and picked it up. "'How to make friends and influence people,'" he read and smirked. "How appropriate."
"Does this often happen?" Sif asked curiously.
"With Thor and Loki, sometimes," Steve said, tone indicating that he definitely disapproved. Jane wilted slightly. Steve was very good at making people feel guilty. "It does no harm, but it only takes one accident for someone to get hurt."
"Yeah, he's the mommy," Tony said abruptly.
"What?" Sif asked. "Fandral, stop that."
Fandral, who had been giving a nearby chair and Loki considering looks, froze.
"Don't bother," Thor said, tone slightly weary. "When Tony has one of his little moments, only Pepper has a chance of understanding him."
"Ah," Sif said, nodding.
Tony rolled his eyes. "Whatever," he muttered. "I am unappreciated in my time."
"Tony," Pepper said, tone slightly warning.
"I worry about Harry," Thor said abruptly. "He has had so much to deal with, and now… I wonder if it is not beginning to weigh him down."
"Children are resilient little things, Thor," Volstagg said. "Especially that one. He just needs a little time to himself." He chuckled. "He's as hard headed as his father."
"That I think we can all agree on," Loki murmured.
"His mother wasn't lacking in that department either," Remus observed.
Sirius snorted. "She didn't know the meaning of the words 'give in', you mean," he said, amused.
"Sounds like he got a double dose," Bruce said. He gave Thor a sympathetic look. "You realise what this means?"
"What?" Thor asked.
"Well… do you remember what you were like as a teenager?" Bruce asked. "Because I kinda doubt that you were rule abiding and good at being told what to do."
A series of amused noises from the Asgardian contingent, ranging from Loki's soft laugh to Hogun's amused snort and Volstagg's booming laugh.
"As my friends and brother demonstrate by their reactions," Thor said. "I was not."
"Do you remember what Lily was like as a teenager?" Bruce asked.
Thor nodded vigorously. "Of course, what are you… are you…" he trailed off, going wan. "Oh."
Tony and Darcy caught on and both started cackling.
"What?" Steve asked, puzzled.
"Doctor Banner is implying that Harry may have inherited stubbornness from both his parents," Sif explained, smirking. "And is as stubborn as both of them put together."
Steve winced.
"Allfather preserve me," Thor moaned, putting his face in his hands. Jane patted him consolingly, lips twitching
"Don't worry," Tony said cheerfully. "You've got at least another… year? Six months?" He shrugged. "Whatever. My advice, big guy, enjoy it while you can."
"I will bear that in mind," Thor managed, voice muffled.
OoOoO
Harry, meanwhile, was alone with his thoughts. He wasn't exactly surprised to find that he was more comfortable that way, or at least, more used to it. He loved his father and uncle, indeed, he loved his newfound family and friends. But this last month or so, he'd be overwhelmed and now with this letter from his godmother… well, it wasn't exactly unjustified for him to want a little space.
His godmother. Now that… that was something to think about. She obviously felt sorry for leaving him, very sorry indeed. Her reasons, logically speaking, made sense.
But he was a teenage boy. Logic didn't hold sway over much of his brain. All he could think about was the cupboard, the childhood that had stolen from him and what could have been. Tears ran down his cheeks as he imagined being raised by Wanda, beautiful, magical, brave, and judging by her letter, warm, kind and loving.
Lost in his imaginings, he pulled his knees to his chest and rocked back and forth on his bed, weeping for what could have been.
Harry?
Harry's head jerked up. "Who's there?" he asked, voice raw and damp.
I am Charles Xavier. Do you remember me? We met at Tony's Christmas party. I am his godfather.
Harry frowned, and nodded. "I do," he managed. "Where are you?"
Inside your head. I am an accomplished telepath.
Harry froze, then felt a gentle touch on his mind, like a reassuring hand on his shoulder. Relax. I am not looking at anything private. I have merely established a connection between us, enough to communicate.
Harry relaxed. So… do I just need to think my reply? He tried.
Exactly, Xavier replied, and Harry felt a warm sense of approval. Are you okay?
I'm fine, Harry replied.
There was a feeling of gentle scepticism from Xavier. Harry, I may not have told you, but I am a teacher, he said. And I am well acquainted with the habit of teenagers to bottle up their problems or try and deal with them alone.
Why are you contacting me? Harry asked bluntly I don't want to be rude, but it does seem a little odd.
That is understandable, Xavier said. In truth, I've been keeping an eye on you. Most of my students go through similar experiences to yours, discovering parts of themselves that they did not know existed, aspects to their heritage that they could not imagine. My position is not unlike that of Albus Dumbledore, your headmaster.
You know him? Harry asked, surprised.
We move in similar circles, Xavier replied vaguely. And when I first began teaching, he offered a lot of excellent advice. Including not to let the problems of my students fester.
I'm not your student, Harry thought grumpily.
No, Xavier agreed. You are not. I speak as one who is concerned for you, as I am for all children your age. Even without supernatural additions, adolescence is a time of great upheaval and complication. Especially when family is involved.
Harry had to admit that he had a point.
Heaven knows I don't expect you to open up to someone who is practically a stranger, though some find that easier, as a stranger is unbiased and there is less worry about giving offence, Xavier continued. But you should speak to someone, whether it is me, your father, your uncle, one of the Avengers or your other friends. Reticence will only hurt you in the long run.
Harry was silent for a long moment. He didn't really know this man. But Tony trusted him, and as his uncle had observed, Tony didn't fully trust anyone except Pepper. While paranoia doesn't equal good character judgement, it was close enough. Besides? What did he have to lose?
As it turned out, he actually had quite a lot to lose if he hadn't been talking to someone trustworthy. A few moment's thought reminded him of Riddle's diary.
The last time a friend of mine confided in a psychic stranger, she nearly got killed, Harry said. How can I trust you?
Take a look, Xavier replied, and in his mind's eye, Harry saw a door opening. Cautiously, he passed through it, into the mind of Charles Xavier.
The mindscape manifested itself as a grand old house, with a surrounding forest, and if Harry looked around, he could see a fountain and in the distance, the sea.
"Here you see the truth of me."
Harry whipped around, then relaxed as he saw Charles Xavier walking towards him. "In case you were wondering why I am not in my wheelchair, it is because I tend to imagine myself without my crippling injury," the older man explained.
He looked as kindly as Harry remembered, and his voice was warm and reassuring, like a gentler, more mellow and less authoritative Odin.
"What is this place?"
"This is my home, and it has been since childhood," Xavier said. "It is now my school. I take in students who are born with unusual abilities, some greatly resembling magic. In a few cases, there have been some who were adept in both. I teach them to control their abilities and to live in harmony with others."
"To be superheroes?"
"Not quite. Some become superheroes. Indeed, I'm sure that Mr Barton and Miss Romanov could tell you a fair bit about my 'X-Men', who you might say are an occasional peace keeping taskforce, one that is rather more low key than the Avengers," Xavier said, and cracked a smile. "Though it is rather easy to be low key when your comparison is a team with my godson on it."
Harry grinned. "Yeah, subtlety passed Tony by."
"It passed his father by, too," Xavier observed. "Tony is very like Howard was, or at least, how Howard was at his best. Or so I believe. I did not know Howard as well as I might have done." Catching Harry's surprised expression, he explained, "His mother was a former student of mine."
"She had powers?" Harry asked, then shook his head. "No… Tony doesn't. Or at least, not that I've noticed."
"Indeed. Maria Stark had no superhuman abilities, and she was no less valued for that. Nor does her son, though his genius comes close, and I care for him very deeply," Xavier said. "Not all my students have special abilities, though the vast majority of them do, simply because their needs tend to be unusual and I am best able to cater for them. Not only that, but my students prefer their privacy."
Harry nodded. "Like Hogwarts."
"Exactly," Xavier said. "And like Hogwarts, some students come to me having faced traumatic experiences. Suffering like that which you faced at the Dursleys is often only the beginning, and motivated by the same reason. Fear. In your case, fear of retribution preserved you from what could have been much worse physical abuse. However, the kind of mental abuse you were put through can be, in some ways, worse. Such wounds can be slow to heal, and I often have to counsel those from broken homes. Which brings us to you."
"My home is fine," Harry said neutrally.
"Indeed it is," Xavier said. "Your father is an excellent parent and he clearly loves you very much, as does your uncle. Your grandfather as well, and I am certain that your grandmother does too."
"You've met my grandfather?"
"We've been in telepathic contact on another matter."
Harry blinked and sharply revised his estimates of Charles Xavier's power upwards. He had no idea how much power would be required to initiate telepathic contact across dimensions, but it was surely titanic. "Whoa…" he breathed.
Xavier chuckled. "I have my talents," he said modestly. "And I was using a device that dramatically amplifies my abilities in order to do so, along with a little assistance from your uncle in showing me the way." He sobered. "We have got off track again." A pair of chairs appeared, one behind Harry, who copied Xavier and uncertainly sat down. "When I felt your mind earlier, it was in turmoil, your emotions running wild. May I ask why this was?"
"Are you an empath?" Harry asked, surprised.
"Among my other talents, though not the most refined of them," Xavier said patiently. "Where did you come across the term?"
"One of my friends, Diana, is one."
"Really?" Xavier asked, sounding interested. "Did you meet her on Earth, or Asgard, if I may ask?"
"Asgard," Harry said. "She's the daughter of Hercules."
Xavier's reaction was entertaining – his eyebrows shot up and his eyes widened. "Well," he said slowly. "That is a surprise." Then he chuckled ruefully. "I suppose it shouldn't be – after all, if one pantheon is real, so should others." He gave Harry an interested look. "So, you understand that I didn't even have to touch your mind as such to feel the emotions rolling off you."
Harry nodded.
"And so I wanted to help you," Xavier continued. "Which brings me to my question. What has happened?"
"My godmother sent me a letter," Harry said quietly. "Explaining why she couldn't take me in and asking if I wanted to get in contact with her."
"And you have some conflicted feelings over this," Xavier said.
Harry nodded. "She… well, my godfather was in prison for something he didn't do and my grandfather had to worry about my dad's sanity because he went crazy when mum died."
"I can't imagine that an insane Thor would be a present prospect for anyone," Xavier murmured.
"And that meant that my uncle and grandmother couldn't take me in, otherwise, well… there'd be the risk of dad going insane again," Harry said. His tone indicated that while he had mostly made his peace with this, mostly was not entirely. "And Professor Lupin, my dad's other friend… wouldn't have been allowed to adopt me."
"Because he is a werewolf," Xavier said equably. "They have a rather recognisable psi signature and I recognised that he was one when I met him at Christmas."
Harry blinked. "I'd have thought…"
"That I would be bothered?" Xavier asked, then shook his head. "You aren't. Why should I be?"
"Because most people judge others by things that they can't control," Harry said, making a face that said exactly what he thought of this attitude.
"And you do not," Xavier said. "Which considering your past, I am not surprised by."
"Oh?"
Xavier nodded. "Many students of mine who have been subject to treatment like yours tend to react either the way you have, with tolerance and empathy, while others, regrettably, respond with knee jerk intolerance," he said. "I do my best to guide them towards the former approach." He looked Harry in the eye. "Now, your godmother had reasons for not taking you in. What were they?"
"Her enemies," Harry said succinctly. "She's the apprentice of the Sorcerer Supreme. Um, do you know who that is?"
Xavier nodded slowly. "I've met him, and that means that your godmother is…"
"Wanda Maximoff."
Xavier rubbed his chin. "Now there is a name to conjure with," he murmured.
"You know her?"
"Her father is one of my oldest friends, and I knew her quite well when she was younger," Xavier said. "Indeed, I was one of those who taught her how to control her powers. She was one of those whose abilities overlapped with magic and my field of expertise." He nodded. "I now know why she abandoned you. Her enemies would have visitied a terrible fate on you given even a fraction of a chance, and those enemies include beings beyond even the imaginings of Lovecraft."
"Lovecraft?"
"An American author, famous for his cosmic horror stories," Xavier said. "I suspect that he ran across information about the real creatures that he based his stories on. Suffice it to say," he continued. "That what they would have done to you, given the chance, doesn't even bear thinking about."
"That's what my uncle said," Harry said quietly. "She said it too. 'All I could offer you was a life under siege'. She also said that Doctor Strange warned her not to and dad said that he could see the future."
"They were right," Xavier said. "I believe that she was genuinely trying to protect you, Harry, as best she knew how. And Strange is known in the supernatural community for his foresight. He is rarely, if ever, wrong. I certainly can't remember an instance." He looked thoughtful. "He always gave off the impression of knowing far more about you than you did. It could be somewhat unnerving at points." He looked back at Harry. "That said, if he warned Wanda not to take you, he very definitely had your safety in mind."
Harry sighed, and nodded. "That's what I've been told," he said, sounding frustrated. "And I know its true, but I still feel… abandoned."
"I understand completely," Xavier said kindly. "My advice would be to talk to your family about it, and to get into contact with Wanda. It will do you good. And I am confident that, in time, you will come to accept what has happened. Not like it, but accept it." He sat back. "We cannot change the past, and the future is often murky and unclear. But the present is ours to decide." He smiled warmly, with just a hint of mischief sparkling in his eyes. And as Harry saw that, briefly saw a much younger man overlaid on Xavier, a man with dark hair, an innocent smile and the same warm blue eyes. "That," Charles said. "Is why it is called the present."
Harry nodded. "Thanks," he said quietly, with a small smile. "I'm sorry if I've bothered you."
Xavier shook his head. "On the contrary, Harry. It was my pleasure."
"So… until next time?"
Xavier's smile widened, and if Harry hadn't known better, he'd sworn he could see tears. "Yes," Xavier said. "Until next time, Harry. It was truly my pleasure."
Then Harry found himself back in his room, lying on his bed. After a moment or two, he sat up. And smiled.
OoOoO
"I've noticed a couple of things about Harry," Tony said thoughtfully. "Recurring patterns."
"He picks up friends in twos," Thor noted. "Forming trios which he seems to be the informal leader of."
"A trio of trios, no less," Loki noted. "That will be important."
"Threes usually are," Natasha said. "There's the Roman Rule of Three." For those who were looking blank, she added, "It's a rhetorical tool, where groupings of three are used to influence crowds and make a message more effective."
"And then we have the Warriors Three," Steve pointed out, nodding at the mentioned Warriors. Predictably, Fandral preened slightly.
"And the Nine Realms of Yggdrassil," Sif noted. "Three threes."
"This doesn't sound like coincidence to me," Bruce said. "It's proven that threes are more satisfying to the human brain, and we tend to arrange things in patterns of three to maintain a form of balance. Its an observable trait. So why are threes forming around Harry?"
"And not just any kind of three," Loki said. "Each member of each trio is… something special."
"Something special which he needed," Thor noted. "I am not entirely sure Harry would have survived his first two years at Hogwarts without Ron and Hermione, nor they without him."
"He wouldn't have survived the Disir without Diana and Uhtred," Sif added.
"And he, Carol and that Beaubier kid have the makings of a good team," Darcy finished. "It hasn't come in useful yet, but let's face it. It's only a matter of time."
There was a round of nodding. Harry was a universally recognised trouble magnet.
"It's like he's forming his own Proto Avengers," Steve said.
"Earth's Mightiest Midgets," Tony said flippantly. "I like it. Ow!"
Pepper had, without even looking at him, reached out and gently but firmly twisted his ear.
"You're one to talk," Sif muttered, looking Tony up and down. While Tony was not below average height, there was not much up to look at.
"I'm feeling bullied," Tony whined.
"Steve may have a point," Fandral said. "After all, did we not come together under similar circumstances?" he asked, glancing at his friends and Sif. "Maybe it is happening because Harry feels the need for friends and allies."
There was a moment of surprised silence at this piece of complex thinking from the normally lackadaisical Fandral, then a round of agreement.
"The Disir," Loki said. "Very definitely did not get into Asgard by accident. Somebody sent them."
"Who could do such a thing? Why would they do it?" Sif asked, worried. "Who would dare?"
"That," Loki said grimly. "Is a very good question. And that is not the only thing they have done – it is part of the Allfather's reason for sending you to Midgard. I shall explain later."
All four Asgardian warriors straightened up, and Sif nodded briskly. This sounded like business rather than play.
"Whatever reason they did it for," Thor said grimly. "Whoever it was who gave the Disir passage between the realms nearly got my son killed. They sent them after him for that reason. If not for his friends, they would have succeeded." His expression darkened. "This will not pass unchallenged." He calmed, but remained sober. "But I think, for now, I shall thank whatever force is behind Harry's acquisition of such friends. For without them, I do not think he would be alive today."