Hello folks, this is my first crossover story. Also it's a work in progress, so I'm quite excited to see where it all leads myself :D

Also note that English is not my first language, so if you find any errors, tell me. I'm always happy for a chance to improve.

Well then I don't wanna stall any longer, on with the story :)

Chapter 1

Harry was home for the holidays. Not that he would call this place home. Not really. To be honest Harry had never known what home really meant. Sure he lived in a house and had lived here since he'd been 15 months old, with people who were related to him. But the Dursleys, his Aunt, Uncle and Cousin absolutly loathed disrupted their perfect little lives. You see, Harry was not a normal boy, he was a wizard, an honest to God broom riding and wand waving wizard.

Maybe his relatives were afraid of him, maybe they just couldn't understand this power inside him, and maybe the rift between Petunia Dursley and her Sister, Lily Potter, nee Evans, had over the years grown to great to overcome for one little boy in need of a Family. What ever the reason, the fact remained, that Petunia couldn't love her nephew. Neither could Vernon, her husband, or her son Dudley.

For them Harry wasn't normal, and they let him know that. Harry had never heard a kind word towards him in this household. He was stuffed in the cupboard under the stairs, to be forgotten about, unless he was needed for all the chores around the house.

Of course the situation changed slightly after Harry got his invitation letter to Hogwarts, his magical school. He had gotten the smallest bedroom, but it was a bedroom at last. Most of the year Harry was away at his bording school in Scotland. When he was back at the Dursleys, they tried to forget about him.

They never outright hit him, but it wasn't beneath them to occasionally smack him, when they did see him in the hall or kitchen.

So for Harry, this was definetly not home. The closest thing he had to a home was Hogwarts.

For Harry this was one of the hardest summers ever. Only days before he had been witness to the murder of one of his classmates. Cedric was a fellow Champion in the Triwizard tournament, that was held at Hogwarts.

They should have won together. A joined win for Hogwarts. Harry couldn't stop thinking about this night and how it had gone downhill so fast. Cedric died for no other reason than being there and no matter how many times his friends, Ron and Hermione, told him it wasn't his fault, Harry couldn't accept that there was nothing he could have done.

Rationally he knew, that it was Wormtail who killed Cedric, and it was Voldemort who gave the order to. But grief is rarly rational. The „What ifs" where haunting Harry and he just couldn't shake them. At night it was he was trapped in his nightmares he could hear the laments of the dead. And they were blaming him. For not being better, for not being more clever. He was even afraid of going to sleep, but his traiterous body would eventually always succumb to sleep.

It was after just a few days back in his personal hell, that Harry was ordered to clean the attic. In the Summer it was always hot and stuffy up there. But Harry was glad for the distraction.

After hours of sorting through old stuff, cleaning and dusting Harry came about a small wooden box with Lily flowers painted on top of it. He reverently smoothed an hand over the box, freeing it from decades old layers of dust and catching on a splinter so he spread a drop of blood.

Of course it could just be a box of his aunts, but somehow he knew, that this once belonged to his mother.

Upon opening it, he found an old book, that looked like a diary, some faded photgraphs and strangely a broken arrowtip in its depths.

The photographs were of his mother with a guy Harry had never seen before, not even in the Album, Hagrid had given him. Some where apparently made while they where having fun, eating ice cream and exploring cities, so it would seem. But there was one Photgraph, Harry wasn't sure what to make of. The guy had on combat clothes and a tactical vest. And even his mother was wearing a similar outfit. They both had smudges on their faces. The photo was so old, Harry couldn't discertain, if it was blood or just simply dirt. Both faces wearing grim smiles.

Puzzled Harry opened the diary in hopes of learning who the strange man would have been and began to read.

Dear diary,

gosh that sounds pathetic. as if I'm some school girl ranting about my latest crush. But no, my purpose for writing this is much darker I'm afraid. I live in dark times where one can never be sure who to trust. Horrible things happen every day. Friends gone missing and killed. Things one has to deal with ... somehow. I found it easier writing everything down to process.

After my schooldays I decided I wouldn't be a sitting duck. I will not only defend myself, I'll try to help as many as I can. I signed up for the Auror program and after 3 years I'm now a fully trained Auror about to leave on my first mission.

Because I am a muggleborn witch and have therefore experience in the muggle world I am going to function as a liasion between our Aurors and a global secret organisation dedicated to saving human lives, named SHIELD. My partner will be a Muggle, named Clint Barton. We'll see how it will work out. This is the first attempt at a joined operation between Muggles and Wizards and witches. I'm really excited and hope to make a difference one day.

Oh of course I won't leave all this classified Info laying around for just anyone to see. I have a box ready with protections woven in it. Only people with my blood will be able to open this box and seeing the contents. Should anybody else try to get acces, the box will destroy itself.

So whoever is reading this, you must be of my blood. I hope it's not Tuney, for she will hate me even more for looking for danger. And if it is a child of mine, I hope the world is a different one now, so you would never know the constant fear, someone you love will not be beside you anymore come tomorrow. It is for you that I will fight.

Slowly Harry smoothed a hand over the script. The words, his mother had written, all those years ago. She was full of hope and courage. Idealistic enough to try to make the world a better place to live. Harry couldn't help but smile and be proud of the woman, that would become his mother.

Eager to learn more about his mother he read on. About the live his mother build for her self. About battles she fought against deatheaters, but also against Muggle criminals, it was a joined task force after all. About James and his friends, who also became Aurors. So far his parents weren't together yet but friends.

Harry had deduced that the man in the photos was Clint Barton. The man Lily was teamed up with. But so far they were just colleagues and good friends, as far as Harry could tell. Till finally, he came to an entry where it all changed.

Dear diary,

yesterday had been hard. I still can't comprehend this. It's as if I'm in a daze and watching another Lily... So many children dead. The deatheaters raided an orphanage. All this blood, and so so many corpses. I'm no stranger to corpses and blood. In my career that's a given. But I never expected to see something like this. And Clint neither although he was an Angent of SHIELD long before I even started.

I think we both needed an outlet. There is no eloquent way to say this, but we got smashed. Completly and utterly drunk and then we slept together. Awkward doesn't even begin to cover it. Also I must say that I am finding him attractive and that I can't regret it entirely. I just hope that it doesn't effect our work relationship. I trust him with my life, and partners like this are hard to come by.

After that there were many entries, where Lily detailed how her relationship with Clint Barton evolved from a drunken one night stand over a tentativ romance to an engagement. Harry couldn't believe it. He was rereading passages in hope of having misread. But there it was, faded blue ink on yellowing pages. His mother loved another man. A man who wasn't his father. And given the dates his mother wrote to her entries she would soon be pregnant, but who would be the father of Harry? He forced himself to read the last entry.

Dear diary,

this is both the worst and the best day of my life. I am pregnant, but Clint is missing, presumed dead. I knew it was a bad idea to let him go on a solo mission. But we had them all the time and we always came back. But now I'm alone and expecting a child. I don't know if Clint is even still alive and I don't know if I can do this alone. To bring a child in this troubled world. Could I even protect it all alone?

James has been a great help to me. Over the past 2 years we've all been working together we got really close and I even came to appreciate his joking manner. He was a good friend of Clint too. He too is grieving, but he tries to be strong for me, to help me where he can.

He was with me when I found out about the baby. He proposed to me. Not out of love, but to protect me and the child. So I don't have to do it alone. I am so grateful to him. And if Clint isn't found within the next month, I will marry James for my unborn child. He can protect it with the century old Potter wards.

But I will always love Clint and as long as I live, I will never forget him.

Harry was sitting dumbstruck in the dusty attic at his relatives. He found out that his father isn't who he thought it was, but he still might be dead. I felt as if hours or maybe just seconds passed by, then Harry apruptly stood up. He had to find out. He had to find out for certain, if his father was dead.

Going back to his room, he took out parchment and a quill and wrote to a Nick Fury. The man his mother mentioned in her diary as the head of SHIELD. Harry hoped this was still true. After all nearly 15 years has passed since then.

Dear Mr. Fury,

I hope you are still director of SHIELD. This may sound crazy and you don't know me, but you may have known my mother, Lily Evans, later Potter.

I recently stumbled about old belongings of my mother. I'm not sure you know this, but she and James Potter died in October 2001. Since then I have been living with the sister of my mother and her family.

In a diary my mother wrote, I found out, that James Potter isn't my real father. He just stepped in to protect my mother and me. My father is Clint Barton. My mother wrote he was missing and later presumed dead before she found out that she was pregnant.

I would like to know if my father was ever found and if he might still be alive.

Enclosed I have a picture of her and Clint Barton my mother kept.

Harry Potter

This he took to his owl, who could find anyone on this planet not under wards. „Take this to a Mr. Nick Fury. He should be aware of owls used for mailing, after all he worked in a joined operation with magicians."

With a soothing hoot to her master Hedwig took off into the sky, leaving Harry staring after her. Not sure if he should dare to hope. For the first time since the third task, he wasn't thinking about Voldemot and the death of Cedric.

Well guys, I hoped you liked it.

More is coming soon. I hope to update regularly.

Bye till next chapter ;)