The Avengers and the Strange Case of the Peculiar People of the Potter Sort

A series of one-shots and little drabbles about the Avengers and their People of the Potter Sort, respectively. They've all got at least one. And it's all in this one chapter. Complete ;}

Chapter One: Steve Rogers

He should've expected it, really. What part of his life was normal, after all?

He was a kid turned super soldier, weakling turned tough-guy, and American hero extraordinaire.

He shouldn't have had any problem with learning that magic was real, after all, as the witch who'd decided to help the army would forever be someone he would always love.

Her name had been Dorea Potter. A rather strange name for an even stranger young woman.

Married at nineteen out of a betrothal contract with a man, Charlus Potter, for Black had been her maiden name.

He'd loved that woman with all of his heart, mind and soul. A rather peculiar woman she'd been, but he had a thing for all things peculiar, why should his type be any different?

She'd had wildly curly dark auburn hair, with bright hazel eyes that always seemed to twinkle with mirth, even when times were tough.

She'd been the last one he'd been thinking about when he'd gone down in the ice.

She'd never gotten around to telling him that she was pregnant out of wedlock, and that she'd given birth to a metamorphmagus son whom she'd named James Steven Potter.

Thor Odinson, that was someone who was not easily perturbed by the foolish games of mortals. He did not usually busy himself in their petty affairs. After all, he was a god, and therefor, he was above them and all their pettiness.

His father, though, had long since decided to teach him a lesson, and had sent him for a yearlong stay on Earth in a place called Great Britain, where there were sorcerers much like his own brother, Loki.

He'd been cold, tired, and hungry, with no place to stay, and a woman with wild red hair and kind, mischievous hazel eyes had taken one look at him and ushered him into her grand home, where he'd been greeted just as kindly by a man with tousled raven black hair and dark blue eyes. Charlus, son of Potter, and Dorea, daughter of Black. Those were their names.

They'd had a son, then, a very hyper, very mischievous little boy named James Steven, son of Charlus. At least, that's what the couple told him, but Thor, being himself, could tell deep in his soul that James was no Charlusson. But maybe the couple didn't know that. He wouldn't ruin their happiness by any means, they'd been too kind to him.

Thor remembered quite fondly the little bouncing boy with tousled black hair and sparkling, mischievous hazel eyes so like his mother's, who had been quick to latch on to the leg of 'Blond Giant', as he referred to Thor, and babble on about a game called 'Quidditch', and how he was going to be the best player ever, one day.

A boy who'd already had an affinity for trouble at four years old, and loved to prank his parents and 'Blond Giant' mercilessly, and whom had cried himself to sleep for several weeks once Thor had gone.

The God of Thunder had almost forgotten about the family until he'd been sent back to Earth once more, this time to the lovely Jane Foster, and couldn't find his friends the Potters at all.

He'd often wondered what had happened to them.

Natasha Romanoff was by no means soft, thank you very much. She was cold, cruel, unforgiving, and always got the job done, whether she wanted to or not, it was just her job, and she lived with it, because you couldn't just walk away from the life of a spy/assassin once you'd joined the field.

She was frighteningly talented at hiding her emotions away, and almost never lost composure, especially not when she was on a mission.

She was forever frozen at twenty-nine years old, which would've been a dream for most women, but Natasha Romanoff was no normal woman. For her, it just meant life in the field until she died, or lost her use as a weapon.

She's been in Great Britain, and was taking a well deserved break after tailing a man for several weeks before finally offing him, and was now strolling in a park in Surrey.

The bush next to her rustled, and she was immediately on the defense, but relaxed when a young boy - who was small enough to only be six years old - tumbled out, but concern bubbled its way to her heart when she saw the state he was in. His clothes were tattered, his glasses broken on his nose, emerald green eyes shining with hurt, and blood trickling down his knees and his back.

His eyes widened at the sight of her, and almost made to run away again, but she stopped him.

"Hey, it's okay, I'm not going to hurt you." He froze, and she slowly inched her way towards the green-eyed, black-haired boy. "My name's Natasha, what's yours?" His bright green eyes blinked up at her, still very much in a guarded stance.

"Harry." He finally answered. "Harry Potter."

"How'd you get hurt?" He looked down sheepishly at his horribly tattered shoes that appeared several sized too big.

"My cousin Dudley an' 'is friend's decided to go Harry Hunting. They think its loads of fun, but I don't like it very much." He froze as if he'd said something deplorable. "You won't tell Uncle Vernon I said that, will you?"

Natasha, as angry as she was on the inside, shook her head, pretending she was locking her lips and throwing away the key.

"I won't tell a soul."

The look on his face was priceless, you could practically feel the relief leaving his small body.

"BOY!" the call rang out, and Harry's eyes widened.

"Gotta go-" he paused before scampering off. "By, Miss 'Tasha!"

He'd been the only one she'd ever let get away with calling her that.

Bruce Banner had been used to peculiar people.

Heck, he was the most peculiar person he knew.

Until now, at least.

"Did you know you turn into a big green rage monster?" Those had been the first words out of the little boy's mouth. He had wide brown eyes and messy black hair. James Potter the Second, that'd been his name.

He'd been rescued by a family vacationing in the forest of Dean, the Potters. Harry, Ginny, James, Albus, Lily, and another baby on the way.

Somehow, they'd calmed down the big guy.

One of his biggest regrets was not staying long enough to ask how they'd done it, instead having run away to keep them safe.

Clint Barton and Tony Stark had their Potter encounter together, while they were at a bar, celebrating the defeat of Loki, when they'd seen them.

Two sisters had walked in, chatting amiably with one another. The taller one had long, wavy auburn hair and bright emerald green eyes. The younger one had long, straight black hair and dark blue eyes.

The Potter sisters. Lily and Natasha had been their names, and Clint and Tony'd found it rather funny that one of the very attractive British girls shared a name with one of their teammates.

They'd flirted quite shamelessly, yes they had, but it was a guy thing, really, and the girls had just brushed them off completely and ignored them.

But no one forgets a Potter.

Not ever.

Nick Fury threw a folder at the Avengers, and Steve caught it easily.

"What's this?" asked Tony, gazing at a picture of a woman with curly red hair and hazel eyes. Steve sucked in a sharp breath. Thor looked excited.

"Dorea Potter, married to Charlus Potter. Died in 1980." He threw another folder, and this time, Thor caught it.

"James Steven Potter, borne out of wedlock, son of Dorea Potter and Steve Rogers." The Avengers were gaping, Steve included, at the picture of the boy with messy black hair that shifted to blond, then back to black, with twinkling hazel eyes. "Died on Halloween, 1981, at 21 years old." He pushed forward another folder. This one showed two pictures, one of a young boy smiling brightly at the camera with messy black hair and bright emerald eyes framed with glasses, and another of the boy when he was a man. This time Natasha sucked in.

"Harry James Potter. Born to Lily and James Potter, surviving a gas explosion that killed his two parents. Raised by his aunt and uncle. Lost in action three months ago, assumed to be dead." Natasha looked mournful, remembering the small little boy she'd seen in the park all those many years ago.

Fury gave them one last file, that contained a photo of four siblings, all grinning at the camera. Bruce bit the insides of his cheeks, and Tony and Clint just stared shamelessly.

"James Sirius Potter-" the one with messy black hair and brown eyes. "-Albus Severus Potter-" the boy with messy black hair and green eyes who looked like a carbon copy of his own father. "-Lily Luna Potter-" the girl with long auburn hair and green eyes. "-and Natasha Ginevra Potter." Natasha's eyes widened as she gazed at the girl with long black hair and dark blue eyes. Harry hadn't forgotten her, not after all this time.

"They're all missing," said Fury. "And I want you to find them."

The Avengers, for once, were already ready for this mission, because they all owed something to the Potters.

Because no one can ever forget the peculiar people of the Potter sort.