Grimmauld Place, nearly four weeks later...

Harry had been prowling restlessly around his library for the better part of the afternoon, double checking that all the books he needed had been packed, when the floo had chimed, announcing Hermione's arrival. This was in itself unusual - Hermione had been in his life far too long to stand on ceremony. If his floo was open, she just popped through unannounced, even if Harry was out the wards would let her through.

Today however, she seemed... subdued... nervous even, hovering on the hearthrug, twisting the hem of her muggle shirt anxiously.

Harry smiled and came over to give her a hug. "Hermione, what a lovely surprise." Seeing the evident signs of stress he stopped, frowning. "Hermione. Is everything alright with Draco? What is it?"

Hermione shook her head, her movements less easy and graceful than usual. "No... no Draco's fine Harry. He's much happier now he's out of hospital, and I'm... well... he's staying with me for now. I couldn't leave him on his own... after..." A serious blow to the head was only one of the injuries that had, on top of magical exhaustion, kept Draco confined to St Mungo's for far longer than either Harry or Hermione had anticipated, and he had only been finally discharged a little over a week ago.

"That's good. I thought he looked much better when I last visited him last... that was just before he came out of hospital I think. Since then... well... the move and getting everything sorted... I'll visit him before I go though, I promise."

She smiled, but it was a forced and brittle thing, nothing like her usual brightness. Harry's heart sank. Whatever this was, it wasn't good.

"How's the packing going?"

"All done. I'm not taking vast amounts with me. The movers are arriving tonight to transport the crates to the airport. Apparently, by the time I arrive it'll all be unpacked."

Hermione shrugged, distracted. "It's tough at the top."

Harry grinned. "Well I'm not arguing. One of the reasons I've been here so long is my passionate aversion to packing and unpacking. If I can get someone to do it for me, so much the better. He looked at his hands, which were covered in dust and grimaced, wiping them on the legs of his jeans. "Right. I think I still have a kettle and some mugs in the kitchen, could you use some tea?"

Hermione flipped distractedly through the pages of one of the books piled higgeldy piggeldy on the coffee table, blissfully unaware that it was upside down. Realising she was supposed to reply, she looked up hastily. "Err... do you have anything stronger?"

Harry blinked in surprised. Shit... whatever this was he wasn't going to like it was he?

A few minutes later, when the books had been cleared off the sofa and coffee table, Harry retrieved two glasses from the kitchen. "I only have Firewhisky I'm afraid. Would you like ice - soda?"

"Just ice please". Harry's feeling of disquiet was growing stronger by the second. Abandoning common sense, he poured himself a generous two fingers, forgoing the ice.

"OK Hermione. What is it, 'cos I have to say that you're freaking me out?"

Hermione took a moment to watch the ice swirling around her glass, before knocking half of it back in a single gulp. Harry's eyebrows shot into his hairline. Generally Hermione was a white wine, or possibly gin and tonic girl. He could count the number of time he'd seen her with Firewhisky on the fingers of one hand - and he'd probably still have a few fingers left over.

Seeing his expression, Hermione looked - if possible - even more uncertain. "Harry... we've been friends for a long time, and we've been through a lot together right?"

Harry leaned back into the sofa, nodding.

"So you know that if I did anything... that you didn't like... that would make you angry... that it would be for a very very good reason right?"

Oh this was bad. This was very bad indeed. "Hermione... what did you do?"

She was silent for a moment, gathering her thoughts. "Harry... do you remember when you were in St Mungo's the first time, just before you and Draco apparated out? When I was talking to Kingsley outside."

Harry shook his head... "Oh no Hermione... please tell me you didn't ..."

Hermione knew that there was no way that this was going to go well, but he had to know. "Kingsley told me that you or Draco may send to me rather than the Ministry if you needed help. If this was the case I had to ensure that I was the first on the scene, and secure the person of... of" Seeing Harry's expression, her voice faltered to a whisper "... of Natasha Romanoff."

Harry closed his eyes and took a deep breath..."You were the one that took her to the muggle hospital weren't you?" Harry's face gave nothing away, but his voice was flat and angry. When she gave a tiny nod, he pushed himself suddenly off the sofa, needing to put more space between them. "Dammit Hermione. Did Kingsley have you obliviate her too?"

"She knew too much Harry, had seen too much. Kingsley didn't feel he could risk it. Hogwarts, Avalon. Branwen's library"

Harry put his head in his hands. "Oh shit. That was the deal wasn't it... to get us into Avalon?" A waste paper basket that happened to be in the wrong place was kicked viciously across the room. Hermione winced as it crashed through the window. "No wonder Kingsley looked so bloody shifty that morning in the kitchen. What... they couldn't have just said no... no Mr Potter you'll have to go on your own... get off your lazy arse and work it out for yourself. No. They let her in because it was easy, because there was a better chance we'd solve it between us. After all, why worry. She's only a muggle after all... hardly worth bothering about..." Hermione didn't think she had ever seen him so angry. "For fuck's sake Hermione... she's Russian...KGB trained. Don't you read anything except magical tomes? The Black Widow Project... programming... mind control. It's a very sensitive issue for her. And in the Battle of New York... You have heard of the Battle of New York haven't you? In the Battle of New York, her best friend was as good as imperio'd by a psychotic Norse God and killed god knows how many friends,colleagues and innocent civilians while he was under the influence. Tash's spent most of her free time since then trying to stitch him back together. Natasha Romanoff is really not a huge fan of mind control, magical or otherwise!"

"Harry.."

"I wiped half an hour from Donnelly's memory, and implanted the memory of getting drunk in the park and she nearly had my head." Seeing her expression, he rubbed his forehead wearily. "Thanks Hermione. I finally found someone... someone I might have a chance with... and you lobotomised her."

"Harry I..."

"No Hermione. I think you should go. I need to... I need to calm the fuck down before I can get my head around the this. Please... just... go."

The silence between them had never been so dense, so suffocating before. Eventually Hermione rose to her feet.

"OK Harry, I'll go... but before I do, there's something I need to tell you - and you need to listen"

Harry, who had been pacing the library floor like a caged tiger, stopped reluctantly.

"You have to remember that my orders came straight from Kingsley... if I'd refused... well, he'd just have found someone else to do it."

"Oh right" Harry snarled, mood hitting white hot once more... "It wasn't my fault - I was just following orders... since when was that you Hermione? Since when have you just done something simply because they told you to?"

"Let me finish" she snapped back, upset, but determined to get her point across... "If Kingsley had got someone else to do it... well they might have done the job properly..."

Harry's posture relaxed subtly, expression softening from blind fury to confused. "What do you mean... properly?"

Silently, Hermione reached into her bag and extracted a small box, which she handed to him. Opening it, Harry found a vial, carefully stoppered and sealed, to protect the silvery-white liquid within. Harry looked up at her wide eyed, his anger forgotten. "Hermione, is this... is this even possible on a muggle?"

Even under the circumstances, Hermione couldn't resist looking just a little smug. "Oh yes - it's possible, but it needs someone who really knows what they're doing. I extracted copies of her memories before I obliviated her... that way, if Kingsley had checked, there would be no repercussions." Seeing Harry relax she risked a hand on his arm. "You haven't known this woman very long Harry, are you sure? You're giving up your job... your life?"

Harry nodded. "I'm not giving up my job Hermione... I think that's been over for a while. Like I said to Tash, sooner or later the world's going to have to learn to get by without me. And I'd really like that to be through my choice, not because I caught the wrong end of someone's hex, and ended up another name on the Ministry's Wall of Remembrance. I know it's all happened really quickly - but what could we do?. It would have been lovely to have the luxury of taking things slowly, getting to know each other over months rather than days and weeks, but she was always going back to New York, and I guess it just put an urgency into things. I just know... there was something there you know, and I've got to follow it up. If it doesn't work out... well so be it. But I have to find out. I'm so tired of going through life wondering what might have happened if..."

Slowly, Hermione nodded. "I get it Harry, I do. It's just... it's such a long way away. Are you... are you still angry with me?"

He shook his head, wrapping an arm around her shoulders to pull her close enough for him to drop a kiss on her head. "With you... no, although I wish you'd told me earlier... hadn't lied about her not being in the cave. But with Kingsley..." his expression darkened. "It's a good thing I can't get into the staff areas of the Ministry anymore, or I might be seriously tempted to break his fucking neck."

Hermione leaned against him, suddenly tired. She hadn't slept the previous night, dreading this confrontation, but knowing it couldn't be avoided. "Why do you think I left it so late...? If I'm taking a portkey I'd rather it was to the Big Apple, not Azkaban."

"You'll visit?"

"Of course we'll visit"

Harry smiled at the "we".

"That might be a good idea. I think Draco would rather be on hand when I finally get to introduce you to Captain America"

Yes, that was definitely a fangirl squeal..."Harry Potter!"

ooo0ooo

SHIELD Headquarters. Four weeks later.

The receptionist ended the call on her all but invisible wireless headpiece and smiled brightly. "Would you mind taking a seat please, someone will be coming to take you up in a few minutes. Can I offer you a drink while you're waiting?"

The tall man in the immaculately cut grey suit declined politely, and moved quietly away from the reception desk to allow others to come forward. Taking a deep breath, nervously checking his tie, he looked appreciatively around the sleek modern atrium, where marble, chrome and black leather were softened by lush planting and clever lighting. Between the gleaming elevator doors his eye was caught by a row of large photographs. Wandering over to the picture of a pale, black haired man in green and gold armour, his eyes widened and a soft chuckle escaped him.

"Good Lord, Tash wasn't joking was she…."

"Checking out our 'Most Wanted' Mr Potter?"

Harry took a last look at the close up of the thin faced man in the horned helmet, before turning away. To his amusement the owner of the voice, an imposing one eyed man in black leather started visibly, clearly seeing the same resemblance that Natasha had. Recovering himself quickly, he offered his hand.

"I'm Director Nick Fury. Stark said you'd be joining us…"

Harry raised his eyebrows. "Director Fury… I wasn't expecting you to come and meet me in person."

Fury shook his head. "I just came in from another meeting. They said you were waiting…." He led Harry to one of the many elevators, scanning his one good eye to obtain access. "Welcome to Washington. How long have you been here?"

"I flew in this morning on Tony's private jet. My luggage should already be at Avengers Tower, I sent it on ahead two days ago. I was hoping to fly into New York and check that everything arrived safely, but our take-off was delayed by fog, and I didn't want to be late." It would have been much easier to take an international Portkey, thought Harry, but this was a muggle world that he was living and working in now. Having proper muggle records of his movements made life much easier, and a transatlantic flight on a Starkjet was really no hardship at all.

Fury's eyebrows flew up. "At the Tower? Is that a permanent arrangement?"

Harry shrugged, refusing to be drawn. In truth it depended a great deal on the small vial, safely secured in his luggage, and on the next few weeks with Natasha.

"Harry - you have to be careful, you can't just give those memories back without talking to her first." Harry thought back to his final conversation with Hermione, in a fog-bound airport, while Draco went to get coffee. "Remember - I've seen those memories, I've seen what that bastard did to her. She may not want them back. It might be easier simply to start afresh..."

"I have no idea Director. It's a little early to say. Tony has been very kind, putting a whole floor and a research lab at my disposal and we will probably be working together on a number of projects, so living in the same building will be very convenient." It would also put him in closer contact with Natasha, but that was none of Fury's business.

With a ping, the elevator stopped, and Fury led him through into a large boardroom, sleek and modern like the rest of the building with windows all down one side, giving spectacular views across the city. Seeing them enter, Tony Stark, wearing the sharpest suit Harry had ever seen, left the huddle around the coffee machine and strode over to greet him... his smile and personality filling the room as always.

Harry made a mental note to find out the name of his tailor. Clearly the guy was a wizard...

"Harry. Great to actually meet you at last. Welcome to the US of A. Let me introduce you to the team." Extracted deftly from Fury's clutches, Harry tried very hard not to look starstruck as he was introduced to some of the most famous faces in the world as "Harry Potter - all the way from England. My new Magical Consultant."

But there was no sign of Natasha.

Harry hoped that he didn't look as horribly disappointed as he felt as he sipped some excellent coffee and chatted with Steve Rogers and Bruce Banner. Rogers was every bit what he'd expected - if a little too much like Percy Weasley in his devotion to rules and regulations for Harry's liking. The softly spoken Banner, with the dry twinkle in his eye however, seemed like he may well become a friend given a little time. Clint Barton on the other hand, watched him silently from the other side of the room, his eyes watchful and suspicious. Knowing a little of his story, Harry wasn't surprised. Barton's previous experiences with magic had not been good ones.

Fury called the meeting to order, confirmed that Harry had met everyone, then got down to business. They had been discussing the recent problems that they'd been having with Dr Doom for about ten minutes, Rogers was in full flow, and Stark was looking bored already, when Harry heard a door entering behind him and a light familiar step.

"Sorry I'm late, I only just got into town, and I couldn't get a cab from the airport. In the end I called Happy, Tony and he sent someone over to pick me up I hope that's ..."

Harry had risen to greet her. Seeing him she stopped mid sentence...

Thoroughly briefed by Harry and with his usual faultless timing, Tony Stark stepped up smiling broadly.

"Harry, I'd like you to meet Natasha Romanoff, the Black Widow..."

And here we are at last... the end.

Well maybe the end of the beginning... because there will of course, be a little more to this story. Probably a three shot, following up on Harry and Natasha in New York. This will be a rather different story, and I really need a bit of a break before I tackle it, because this has been, without a doubt, the toughest thing I've written so far. It's also been the first story I've ever considered abandoning... but there are no abandoned stories on my profile and I'm not about to start now.

There are still bits of the story I'm not happy with... yes OK I made a right mess of the ambush in the garden, and I will eventually go and put it right.

But not yet.

My thanks to all of you lovely people that have stuck with me to the end, and apologies for all those reviewers that I never got back to. I did try, but if I'd replied to everyone I never would have had time to write any more of the story. So to them, a special thank you, particularly to those who sent some wonderful, and well thought out comments - thank you for your time, your trouble and your patience.

Until next time.

Merrick x