As the Avengers stood around the now-repaired, Loki-free room, getting ready to hand over the trickster god to SHIELD, a guy in a perfectly pressed suit strutted forward like he was the lead in an action movie—one of those secret-agent thrillers where everybody wears dark sunglasses and does lots of dramatic handshakes. He even had a name tag that read "Jasper Sitwell" in a bold, confident font, like it was trying to shout, "I am important and have no time for casual conversations."
"Hello, everyone," he greeted with the kind of professional politeness you expect from someone who's had at least three cups of coffee before stepping into a room full of superheroes and wizards. "I'm Agent Jasper Sitwell. On behalf of SHIELD, I'm here to officially take custody of both the Staff and the Tesseract."
There was a brief pause. You could practically hear the Avengers exchanging silent, telepathic "Are we seriously handing these things over?" looks. Their faces were a mix of reluctance, confusion, and the kind of understanding that comes when you know you have to do the right thing, even if it makes you feel a little like you're handing over your pet dragon to a stranger.
Tony Stark, of course, was the first to break the silence with a nonchalant snark that made it pretty clear he wasn't entirely sold on this whole "SHIELD's in charge" idea. "So, let me get this straight: We're just supposed to hand over these ancient artifacts to Mr. Clean over here?" He jerked his thumb toward Sitwell, still holding his glass like he was about to make a big toast. "What's next? You gonna ask us to give up our secret handshake while you're at it?"
Sitwell didn't flinch. If anything, his professional smile grew a bit more, like he was proud of his deep spy demeanor. "I understand your concerns, Mr. Stark," he said with all the gravitas of someone who was about to deliver a very important speech. "But the Staff and Tesseract need to be secured by SHIELD. It's a matter of global security."
Harry, who had been silently watching this whole thing unfold, didn't even blink. He was standing there, casually holding the Staff like it was a wand and not a cosmic relic with the power to rewrite reality itself. His emerald eyes narrowed slightly, and he took a slow step forward, not looking at anyone but Sitwell.
His grip on the Staff tightened, and the air around him seemed to hum with that barely-contained magic he always carried like it was part of his DNA. If you'd never seen a wizard flex before, now you had your chance.
"I don't think so," Harry said, and when he spoke, it was like the room just… froze.
Sitwell's smile faltered for a split second. You could practically hear the crickets. The Avengers looked between each other like they were watching a tennis match, and Tony—who was always more than willing to make a scene—was actually quiet for once. He could tell Harry wasn't messing around.
Sitwell cleared his throat, the smile quickly returning to its "I'm going to try and do this the professional way" form. "Mr. Potter," he started, but the words didn't sound nearly as confident as they should've. "I understand your concern, but I assure you, the Staff is far too dangerous to be—"
"Oh, I understand your concern, Agent Sitwell," Harry interrupted, his voice smooth and calm, like he was talking to someone about the weather and not a potential HYDRA mole. "But the thing is, I don't trust you."
The Avengers, who had been standing with their arms crossed and waiting for a really good spy showdown, suddenly froze. It was like Harry had dropped a bombshell in the middle of a high school prom. Tony's eyebrow shot up like he'd just seen someone spill wine on a white dress.
"Wait," Tony said, narrowing his eyes. "Did he just say what I think he said?"
"Yep, he did," Clint said, deadpan, arms still folded, clearly having an excellent time watching this. "I don't think anyone expected the guy with the tesseract-level cosmic power to not trust the guy in the sharp suit."
Harry tilted his head slightly, watching Sitwell closely, a faint grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. "I would've handed you the Staff, Agent Sitwell," he said. "I would've. If you were actually working for SHIELD and not, you know... HYDRA."
A collective gasp went around the room. Maria Hill's face turned an impressive shade of pale, Natasha's eyes narrowed like a hawk spotting prey, and Steve—Captain America, all-star hero—actually looked a little off his game, which, in Steve Rogers' case, is saying something.
Sitwell's face went from professional to completely blank. His hand froze mid-air like he was about to swat the accusation away, but no. There was nothing to swat away.
For a moment, nobody moved. Not even Thor, who was usually too busy swinging around Mjolnir and throwing people through walls. For a guy who had fought gods and aliens, he looked a bit uncomfortable now, like he was caught in an unexpected hostage situation.
"HYDRA?" Sitwell sputtered. "I-I don't know what you're talking about, Potter."
Harry chuckled softly. "Oh, I think you do." He eyed the room, letting everyone catch up. "You might have gotten a promotion, but I've been around the block enough times to recognize the signs of a double agent. What's next? Are you going to tell us how you've been working for them the whole time, or should we just get the part where we stop you?"
At this point, Tony Stark leaned over to Steve and whispered, loud enough for the entire room to hear, "This is getting good. Should we offer popcorn?"
Clint snorted. "I vote we don't, just in case we need to launch another emergency 'stop the world from burning' mission."
Sitwell visibly tensed, looking like a man caught between the equivalent of a dragon and a really annoyed wizard. "You're mistaken," he said, but his voice lacked the conviction he was probably hoping for.
"Oh, really?" Harry raised an eyebrow. "Then why don't we test it? I mean, if you've really got nothing to hide, you'll just let me take a peek inside your coat, right?"
Sitwell's eyes flickered, his fingers twitching as if he was about to go for something, but at that moment, the sound of JARVIS's voice—smooth, calm, and slightly sarcastic—cut through the tension like a hot knife through butter.
"Sir, I've accessed a file on Agent Sitwell that you might find interesting," JARVIS said, his digital voice practically dripping with smug satisfaction. "It appears that Agent Sitwell has some... less-than-flattering associations."
"Bingo," Harry said, snapping his fingers with a grin. "Guess you did have something to hide after all."
And just like that, the game had changed. The room was on edge, and suddenly, the fate of the Staff and Tesseract didn't seem so straightforward anymore. Sitwell looked like he might want to run for it, but the Avengers—well, the Avengers were ready to play hardball.
It was going to be a long day.
—
The tension in the room was thick enough to cut with a butter knife—though honestly, who wants to be cutting butter in a room filled with SHIELD agents and superheroes? Not me. I was already too busy with my dramatic revelation to care about condiments.
"HYDRA," I said, my voice echoing like a high-school gymnasium PA system. I mean, this was a big deal, so I needed to sound appropriately ominous. "You're one of them, Sitwell. Don't even try to deny it. I've seen into your mind. Not only is it as ugly as a troll's armpit, but I also picked up a few fun facts. Like, oh, I don't know, the fact that you've been feeding us all a nice, juicy line of crap."
The room froze. I could practically feel the Avengers mentally scrambling, trying to piece together the puzzle. They had their own personal demons to face—littered with betrayal, secrets, and drama—but me? I had a knack for sniffing out bad guys. And Sitwell? He was officially on my bad guy radar. Not that I needed one of those to begin with.
Sitwell blinked like a guy who just found out his secret identity had been tweeted by his grandmother. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said, and even though his mouth was still moving, I could tell that the rest of his body had gone into full denial mode.
"Uh-huh, sure. And I suppose you're also not working for HYDRA, right? Totally just a coincidence that you're here, and you're definitely not trying to take our toys away. Right, Sitwell?"
Tony Stark let out a low whistle. "Oof. He just got served like a sad slice of pizza." He cracked his knuckles like he was getting ready to watch a wrestling match. "This should be fun."
Natasha Romanoff, who had the kind of poker face that could probably stare down a rock, was eyeing Sitwell with more suspicion than a cat looking at a cucumber. "He's not denying it. I don't think we need a mentalist to figure this one out," she muttered, but her eyes never left him.
I didn't break my stare. If looks could kill, Sitwell would've been in trouble. But hey, my glare was more of a "don't mess with me" kind of look. I wasn't about to go full wizard on him—yet.
Steve Rogers crossed his arms, his posture screaming "I'm Captain America and I am really not impressed right now." "Sitwell," he said in that low, steady voice of his that makes you want to confess to everything. "You're telling me you've been working against us the whole time?"
Sitwell's face contorted like he'd just swallowed a lemon whole. "I—"
Maria Hill stepped forward, all business, like she was about to drop a bombshell. "Agent Sitwell," she said, her voice unwavering. "You're under arrest for treason. It's time to answer for your actions."
There was no dramatic soundtrack accompanying this reveal, but I was pretty sure I could hear the hum of the tension in the air. You could feel it—the moment everything changed. Sitwell knew it was over. He was about as cooked as the Thanksgiving turkey I'd never had.
"You're arresting me?" Sitwell's voice was an awkward blend of disbelief and panic, like he was realizing the chess game had ended in a checkmate he didn't see coming. "What do you think you can do?"
"I think we can get you to talk, one way or another," Clint Barton said dryly, his bow slung across his back like he was so done with the whole thing.
Clint was probably mentally planning his next snack, honestly. He was that unbothered.
"You'll be joining some very unfriendly company," Natasha added, with a smirk that could probably stop a speeding car. She wasn't worried. No one ever worried about Natasha Romanoff.
The SHIELD agents didn't even wait for Sitwell to respond before they started moving in. I'm talking about the silent step-step-step that had all the grace of a trained squad, with none of the awkward "whoops, my bad" kind of energy you get in those action movies. Sitwell didn't even try to run, probably because he realized it was too late to start pulling any more punches.
And just like that, he was out the door—defeated and led away, his expression one part fury, one part regret, and a whole lot of "I definitely messed up this time."
As the door swung shut behind him, the room went quiet. I mean, really quiet. The kind of quiet that only happens when everyone realizes they've just had the rug pulled out from under them.
Tony Stark broke the silence, naturally, with a wicked grin. "Well, that was fun. Honestly, if we're not doing this every Tuesday, I'm gonna be really disappointed."
Steve Rogers shot him a look, the kind that said, Really, Tony? Right now?
But Tony wasn't done. "Okay, look. We just took down a guy who was supposedly one of the good guys. You know what this means, right? We're not just fighting aliens, gods, and evil robots anymore. Now we've got to root out the traitors in our own ranks. And if that's not a whole new level of messed-up, I don't know what is."
"Yeah, that's great," I said, "but can we get back to the part where I stop getting stuck with all the paperwork for the whole 'HYDRA in SHIELD' thing? I'm just saying, I don't do paperwork."
The room shared a moment of collective sighing. I'm pretty sure we all realized just how complicated everything had just gotten. But hey, at least now we knew who our real enemies were.
And let me tell you, it wasn't just the aliens we needed to worry about.
—
The Avengers, for all their world-saving shenanigans, had finally managed to catch a break. Well, at least that's what they told themselves as they sat around a greasy, very questionable table at a shawarma joint, post-battle.
Tony Stark was on his usual mission: to be the center of attention. He slouched back in his chair, arms folded, scanning Harry Potter (who, if you asked Tony, seemed a little too calm for someone who was apparently a wizard) with a look that could only be described as intense curiosity. Tony's brain worked like a calculator on overdrive. But instead of doing math, it was just processing questions like, "Who is this guy?" and "Can I use him for something cool?"
"So, Harry," Tony began, leaning in like he was about to drop the world's most insightful bomb. "What's your deal? I mean, you're hanging with the big leagues here: we've got a genetically enhanced soldier, a Norse god, a couple of assassins, a guy who's basically a walking tank, and, of course, yours truly, the genius, billionaire, playboy philanthropist." He paused, eyeing Harry's calm demeanor with the intensity of a man trying to find the real story. "What's your claim to fame?"
Harry, who was calmly munching on his shawarma as if he were just another guy at the table (which, honestly, he probably was, considering he had a serious amount of experience in crazy battles), raised an eyebrow. "I'm a wizard, Tony."
There was a beat of silence as the Avengers digested that little nugget of information. Steve Rogers blinked. Thor cocked his head like someone who'd never heard of "magic" before, which, fair, given the whole Norse god thing. Natasha was like, "Alright, let's see where this goes," while Clint… well, Clint was busy trying to figure out how to not choke on his shawarma as he snickered. Bruce just looked mildly intrigued.
Tony, however, was skeptical. Because, you know, science. He didn't do magic unless it came with a clearly defined, science-based explanation. "Magic? Seriously? That's your thing?" Tony asked, his voice dripping with disbelief. "Look, I'm all for the theoretical stuff. But magic? That's just science we haven't figured out yet."
Harry chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Yeah, I get it, Tony. You think it's all smoke and mirrors. But I promise you—magic is real. It's just a different set of rules. Like, say, how your suit's powered by a whole bunch of expensive tech."
Tony grinned. "Okay, okay, I get it. You're smart. You're funny. You're a wizard. But, prove it."
That, my friends, is when things got interesting.
Without missing a beat, Harry waved his hand casually in the direction of Tony's shawarma—well, the half of the shawarma that Tony had just reached for.
Suddenly, the piece of meat slid away from Tony's grasp like it had a mind of its own, teasing him with a perfect little waltz toward the edge of the table.
Tony's eyes widened, his hand still outstretched. "What the—? Did my shawarma just—no, no, no!" Tony lunged for it again, but the shawarma slid away just in time to avoid his desperate grab.
The table erupted into laughter.
Thor's booming voice was the first to join in. "Ha! Mighty Stark, bested by food!" he bellowed, clutching his stomach like it was the funniest thing he'd ever heard. The guy had zero chill.
Clint, who had mostly been eyeing his own plate, finally glanced up, shaking his head. "Oh man, Tony, I thought you were the one with the crazy gadgets. Magic beats you to the punch, huh?"
Harry grinned, watching Tony chase after his elusive meal. "Well, you did say to prove it."
Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Looks like even Tony Stark's tech can't beat a simple spell."
Tony's face was a mix of disbelief and reluctant admiration. "Alright, alright. I get it, I get it." He paused, finally putting on his best "I'm going to laugh this off" face. "You've got some tricks up your sleeve. Fine. But don't think this means you're getting my spot as the coolest guy in the room, Potter."
Steve, ever the good-natured guy, couldn't help himself. "Guess you'll have to eat your words now, Tony," he said with a smirk.
The laughter continued as Tony tried—and failed—to catch his runaway shawarma. He finally gave up, rolling his eyes and grinning. "Fine, fine. You win this round, magic-boy." He flopped back into his seat, shaking his head. "It's official. I've been out-tech'd by a guy who can wave his hand and mess with my lunch."
Clint, who had been quiet for a moment, piped up. "Man, magic's your kryptonite, huh?"
Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. "Hey, it's not my fault Tony has a weak spot for food. And tech."
Bruce, who had been mostly absorbed in his food, added with a half-smile, "Yeah, well, I wouldn't mind a little magic myself."
Tony shot Bruce a playful glare. "Oh, sure, now everyone's on board with magic. Wait 'til it's your turn to get the mystical food snatch treatment."
As the group continued to laugh and rib Tony, Harry couldn't help but feel a strange sense of camaraderie. They were a bit of a mismatched bunch, but in this moment, they were all just friends sharing a meal and cracking jokes. And honestly? That was kind of the best part of all the craziness they got into. Because, at the end of the day, saving the world was great, but a laugh over some shawarma? That was priceless.
---
It was another one of those rare moments where the Avengers were all sitting down, no immediate world-ending crises, no aliens invading, no giant robots trying to crush them underfoot. Just a good ol' shawarma joint and some much-needed downtime. Harry, who'd gotten used to a lot of "weird" by now (magic, alternate universes, you name it), couldn't help but feel a little out of place in this new world of super-soldiers, billionaires in metal suits, and, well, gods. And that, dear reader, is when he decided to ask Bruce Banner the burning question on his mind.
"So, Bruce," Harry began, his voice teasing and curious, "I've gotta know. What's the deal with the whole Hulk thing? Like, how does it even work? The smashing? The giant green guy routine?"
Bruce, ever the understated genius, looked almost relieved to be asked. He let out a breath like he'd been dying to explain it to someone who wasn't in immediate danger of being crushed. "Well, Harry," he started, his tone casual but carrying that edge of I'm about to drop some science knowledge, "it all began with gamma radiation. Think of it like being hit by a radioactive truck, and instead of dying, I got... this." He gestured to himself, his voice tinged with a mix of pride and reluctant acknowledgment.
"Gamma radiation?" Harry repeated, raising an eyebrow. "Sounds... really safe. And not at all like something that would make you want to destroy everything in sight." He leaned in, fascinated. "So, let me get this straight, every time you get mad, you turn into... well, that."
Bruce gave a half-smile, looking like he was used to the question. "Exactly. It's like this weird, uncontrollable reflex. I get angry, and my body just... changes." He raised his hand, clearly enjoying the rare opportunity to explain it all. "The Hulk gets stronger the angrier I get. It's like having a fuse, and when it blows, well, things get... complicated."
Harry's eyes widened, impressed. "Wait, so the angrier you get, the bigger, stronger, and more uncontrollable you become?" He grinned, shaking his head. "That's definitely a plotline I can get behind. Makes me wish I had that kind of power. It'd be a lot more effective than what I'm doing with my magic."
Bruce couldn't help but chuckle, his eyes twinkling with an odd mixture of self-deprecation and gratitude. "Yeah, it's not as glamorous as it sounds. When you're 6'5" and green, you tend to have trouble finding clothes. Not to mention... trying to stop smashing things."
Harry grinned. "I'm pretty sure if I were 6'5" and green, I'd have the same problem. I mean, what do you do, just go on a rampage and pray to the gods of anger management?"
Bruce shook his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "It's more of a 'try not to get into a situation where you have to change' type of thing. But sometimes, you know, things happen." His tone shifted slightly, the weight of his words clear. "The Hulk's... not exactly a great roommate."
Tony, who had been listening from his seat, finally piped up, his voice dripping with sarcastic cheer. "Yeah, I'd imagine Hulk isn't much for small talk. 'Hey Bruce, maybe we skip the destruction this time? Go get a cup of coffee?'"
Harry let out a bark of laughter, leaning back in his chair, clearly enjoying the banter. "I mean, seriously, Bruce. Hulk probably makes the worst kind of house guest. 'Oh, sorry, didn't mean to wreck your entire living room. Just kind of lost it.'"
Bruce chuckled, the sound genuine now. "That's pretty much how it goes. The Hulk doesn't care about things like that. He cares about smashing."
"Well, I care about shawarma," Tony quipped, snatching up his meal like it was the most important thing on the planet. "Maybe we can get a Hulk-proof shawarma house for our next lunch break."
As the team laughed, Natasha shot Tony a look, as if daring him to try and get away with another one of his one-liners. "I think you've finally met your match, Stark," she teased. "Hulk's probably the only one who can really out-smash you."
Tony raised his hands in mock surrender. "Oh, don't get me started on the Hulk. I already got bested by magic tonight," he said, glancing at Harry with an exaggerated, theatrical wince. "I don't need to hear about being outclassed by a giant green rage monster too."
Steve Rogers, ever the good-natured leader, chimed in, "Sounds like both of you could use a little more... patience. And maybe less shawarma."
"Captain, let me tell you," Tony said with a wry smile, "patience is overrated. You know who's got all the patience? The Hulk. And it's the Hulk who'll end up with the whole stash of shawarma after you all 'finish' your 'training.'"
"True enough," Clint said, leaning back in his chair with his arms crossed, a small grin on his face. "And while we're at it, Hulk's probably the only one of us who's not scared to go all the way with it."
Bruce turned red with embarrassment, immediately looking like he wanted to shrink into the seat. "Can we not talk about that?" he muttered, tapping his fingers nervously. "Please, let's just enjoy the food."
Thor, who had been observing with that characteristic, booming laughter of his, decided it was time for a grand gesture. "The Mighty Hulk has proven himself a warrior in his own right, and I, Thor, God of Thunder, find his smashing most admirable!" His voice rang out, loud enough for everyone to hear. "Let us raise our mugs to the Hulk, who smashes with honor and strength!"
"Smashes with honor and strength," Tony repeated, trying not to laugh. "Thor, you seriously think Hulk's in the same league as you? I mean, no offense, Bruce, but one of you is literally a Norse god with an enchanted hammer."
"Hammer of legend," Thor corrected him with a grin. "You should try lifting it sometime, Stark."
Harry, still grinning like a kid in a candy store, leaned over to Bruce, his voice light. "I think we can all agree, Bruce, the Hulk definitely has the best 'break-in-case-of-emergency' powers."
Bruce just smiled, that quiet, understanding look in his eyes. "Yeah, but it's not always an emergency I can control." He shrugged. "But hey, it works for the Avengers, right?"
Harry laughed, clapping him on the back. "Definitely does. And hey, if you ever need help with the whole anger management thing, just let me know. I know a few spells that could come in handy."
The team continued to banter, the jokes flying fast and furious, with the usual back-and-forth between Tony and Steve, Clint throwing in his sarcastic comments, and Thor enjoying himself a bit too much. But in the end, despite all the jokes and antics, there was a shared sense of camaraderie, a bond built through battles fought and challenges overcome.
And for Harry, as weird as it all was—being part of this strange and incredible team of heroes—he couldn't help but feel like he'd found a new family.
Not bad for a wizard who only just recently learned how to control his magic, right?
—
The door to the shawarma joint swung open, and in strode none other than Nick Fury, Director of SHIELD, with all the gravitas and swagger of a guy who walked into every room like he owned it. His single eye scanned the room with a predator's gaze, taking in the sight of the Avengers and Harry Potter, seated around a table like they were about to break into an impromptu rock band.
"Director Fury!" Steve Rogers greeted, standing and offering a respectful nod, the kind of greeting you give a guy who's been through the trenches and earned his stripes.
Tony, of course, wasn't having it. "Oh, no need to stand up, Cap. He only has one eye, but he's definitely not blind," Tony said with a grin, leaning back in his chair like he was in the middle of an improv show.
Fury gave him a look that could melt steel. "Stark, I should've known you'd have something to say."
"Of course you should. I'm Tony Stark. I'm practically a walking comment section." Tony grinned, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. The guy wasn't exactly known for his self-restraint when it came to sarcasm.
With that, Fury turned his attention to Harry, his eye narrowing slightly. "Potter," he said, his voice smooth but with an edge that said he wasn't here for chit-chat. "Got a minute?"
Harry, as usual, was unbothered, like he was used to big-time government officials showing up at random, probably because he was used to it. He stood up smoothly, flashing a grin at the group. "Sure, Fury. Let's make this quick. I've got a date with some seriously delicious shawarma."
The Avengers exchanged a few raised brows as Fury led Harry to a quieter corner of the restaurant. Tony's gaze followed them, and there was a twinkle of suspicion in his eyes, but he wisely kept his mouth shut for now.
Once they were settled in the corner, Fury leaned in slightly, fixing Harry with that signature stare. The kind that made you feel like you were being X-rayed, but with an extra layer of, don't mess with me.
"Potter," Fury began, his voice as cold as a winter morning, "I've heard some interesting things about you."
Harry raised an eyebrow. "I'm sure you have, Director Fury. I'm pretty interesting."
Fury didn't crack a smile. He never did, which was probably why he'd made it to Director in the first place. "What happened with Agent Sitwell?" Fury's tone was low, but Harry could tell the man wasn't here for pleasantries. This was business.
Harry straightened, his eyes momentarily flashing with something darker, a storm brewing just beneath the surface. "Sitwell?" Harry began, keeping his voice cool, "Yeah, about that... turns out he wasn't exactly Mr. Upstanding Citizen. More like Mr. HYDRA Employee of the Year."
Fury's eye narrowed to a slit, his posture stiffening. "HYDRA? Inside SHIELD?" His voice could've cut glass. "You sure about this, Potter?"
Harry nodded slowly, his gaze unwavering. "Oh, I'm sure. That's not the worst part, though," he added, his voice dropping to a whisper. "HYDRA's been crawling through SHIELD like a disease, for years."
Fury didn't flinch, but the muscle in his jaw tightened. This was not news he wanted to hear.
"What's your source for this lovely tidbit?" Fury growled, not even trying to hide the suspicion in his voice.
Harry leaned in a little closer, his eyes glinting. "Funny story, I've got some abilities that come in handy for this kind of thing. Like reading minds. It's kind of my thing." He paused, letting that sink in for a second, before flashing Fury a devil-may-care grin. "Yeah, I know. I sound like a crazy person. But trust me, if you want to know the truth, you're gonna have to trust me on this one."
Fury's expression didn't change. He just stared at Harry, processing the words like he was mentally running calculations on whether he could toss this kid out the window without anyone noticing. "Mind reading. That a fact?" Fury asked, his tone skeptical, but not dismissive.
Harry held up both hands in mock surrender. "I get it. It sounds outlandish. But hey, I didn't exactly ask for this life. I was just trying to, you know, not get killed by Voldemort. And now I'm here, in your world, with mind-reading powers. So what do you want from me?"
There was a long silence before Fury spoke, his voice low but sharp. "You're asking me to trust you on faith alone. You realize that?"
Harry smiled, a wry grin that said he'd heard the line before. "Trust's a tough thing to come by. I get it. But I'm not here to make things worse, Fury. I'm here to help. So if you want to have a little faith in me, that'd be great. If not... well, I guess we'll cross that bridge when we get to it."
For the briefest moment, Fury seemed to soften, just a bit. But then the storm in his eye flared again. "I'm not handing you a trust fund, kid," Fury said, his voice gruff. "But maybe—just maybe—I'll let you prove yourself."
And just like that, Fury, the man who didn't trust anyone, was ready to see if the kid who claimed he could read minds was for real. Harry just had to stay out of trouble long enough to show him.
Meanwhile, back at the table, Tony was whispering to Steve, "You think he's going to trust the magic kid?"
Steve glanced at Tony. "Well, considering the way things have gone down around here lately? Anything's possible."
"Yeah, I'm betting on 'this is going to get weird'," Tony muttered under his breath.
And all the while, Harry was sitting there, all chill and unbothered, silently making the mental note that if Fury wanted him to be on his side, he'd have to get used to a little magic thrown into the mix.
Fury wasn't ready for it. But he'd better buckle up. This was only the beginning.
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Click the link below to join the conversation:
https://discord.com/invite/HHHwRsB6wd
Can't wait to see you there!
If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:
https://www.paypal.me/VikrantUtekar007
Thank you for your support!