Chapter 2

A.N.: Hey guys I'm sorry it's been awhile I've been working a lot this summer. Also i kinda have no idea where this story is going. ALSO if any body wants to help me with betaing… being my beta or something that would be really nice of you. Also did I mention I have no idea where this story is going. I'll try to figure out an actual storyline soon. Promise. Anyway thanks ya'll for reading this and I'm sorry if it's terrible.

This is important! Ok so my dad did something to the internet at my house so I literally cannot get onto Fanfiction at all. However I do have great friends and a 2 hr interval each month so really until I'm 18 there is not going to be a whole lot of updates. Not only that but this is my senior year so I have to focus on scholarships and such so I'm not sure how often I'll update as I said it will be periodically.

Tassiecat: Thank you so much for catching that I'm really bad at written grammar so thank you so much. I'll be honest. I'm not entirely sure where I'm going. This chapter was a test run so now I'll have to make plotline to follow thanks.

ALSO, all ya'll who even care about this story give thanks to AliceHeart13 she made me feel bad for not updating that's the only reason why this got put up.

Thanks ya'll, (p.s. I like reviews and constructive criticism)

Clint listened to the dragging steps of the kid behind him. He clenched his fists as he heard the labored gasps of the kid he struggled to keep up with his quick stride.

"No need to go to the hospital my ass!" Clint growled as he remembered the smug bastards smirks as they left the room. His jaw clenched as he remembered those departing words, "Take good. . . care of my son will you? After all a broken weapon is a useless weapon." A growl forced it's way out of his throat. Those nasty humans, no Monsters, deserved to die in the slowest most agonizing way possible.

Clint sighed in relief as they stopped in front of the kids be room. Turning around he but his tongue. The boy had blood dripping onto the floor, Clint glanced down the hallway. He tasted blood as he saw the small trail of red leading to the kid.

"Kid. . ." Clint said. Trailing off as he stared pointedly at his blood covered hand.

The kid ignored him, "Is this my room?"

"Yeah, but kid you need to get to the hospital."

Clint jumped back surprised. A deep growl came from the boys crimson covered lips.

"I do not believe that is in anyway your concern."

Clint watched speechless as the kid quickly strode into his room The door sliding closed behind him with a hiss.

Clint ground his teeth as he stalked towards Fury's office

"'Not my problem'" Clint spat, "I'll show you 'not my problem' you stupid, injured, stubborn child!" Clint stopped in front of Fury's door. Taking a deep, breath, he knocked.

Harry Sighed in relief as he sank onto the cold, hard floor. Gasps of pain spilling from his lips as the man's footsteps clicked down the hallway.

Slowly Harry lowered his body onto the frigid floor moaning in relief as his burning body was being cooled.

"Finally I'm done with those Bastard's." Harry hissed, glaring at the plain white ceiling above him. Taking a deep breath Harry slowly sat up.

"Hopefully," Harry grit out, wincing as he aggravated his injuries, "It'll be better here." Sighing Harry let his focus turn inward, tearing down the many remaining walls forced around his magical core. It was pitiful at how much of his magic they let him use, barely enough to numb his body.

Harry grunted in pain as all of his magic rushed through his body from the ends of his hair to the the very tips of of his toes. Harry let out a relieved sigh as the major wounds on his body healed, leaving only a few bruises and scratches.

Groaning Harry stood up and got to work warding his room. The next few hours passed slowly with only a few movements from Harry.

Finally Harry had finished. Taking a deep breath Harry collapsed onto his new bed. Groaning in satisfaction as his sore body slowly relaxed back into the soft bed below him, if he was honest with himself it was the softest bed he had ever laid in, usually he just got the hard cold floor.

Harry started in determination at the blank ceiling above him, "It's going to be better here." Harry whispered, eyes cold as he thought over his past. He would do anything, anything to make sure of that.

Clint paced furiously in Fury's office. Anger rolling off of him in waves. How dare those sick Bastard's do something like that! Torturing a kid for God's sake!

"How were those men able to do those things?" Natasha questioned. Staring as the surveillance footage replayed over, and over again.

Clint stopped pacing. That was another thing these wounds were literally showing up all over the kid's body with no visible source except for the polished sticks the men were waving around.

Fury stared at them, his dark eyes, well eye, seemed to gaze into their very soul. Finally he looked away, seeming to deem them worthy of what he was about to tell them.

"Agent Weapon is a part of a special group of people." Clint scowled at the kids codename, scowling harder as Fury continued. "This, certain group of people have the ability to control a type of power that they call magic."

Recently they were involved in a little, civil world between their so called "Light side" and "Dark side". Unfortunately there was very little difference between the two sides. Hell, their government refused to acknowledge the fact that the "Dark side's" leader, Voldemort, even existed."

"What happened?" Natasha asked, very well aware of what could happen with a corrupt government.

"They did the only thing they knew how to do. They found a scapegoat."

The room fell silent.

"What did they do to the kid?" Clint whispered, feelings of dread filling him as images of the kids wounded body filled his mind.

Fury stared at him. Sighing he closed his eyes, in that moment he seemed more human and less like the cold man he portrayed.

"A prophecy was spoken about a child who was going to be powerful enough to stop their "Dark Lord." Unfortunately a spy of this Dark Lord heard the, so called prophecy and informed his master of exactly what he had heard."

"What did he do?" Natasha asked, knowing full well what he had done.

"He went after one of the children the prophecy had spoken of and attempted to kill him. Fortunately he failed, destroying himself when the killing curse backfired. As the Wizarding world was rejoicing, the old fool, Dumbledore realized that Voldemort wasn't quite as dead as they liked to believe."

"What do you me he wasn't dead?" Coulson asked shocked, and slightly confused, "I may not be a wizard but "killing curse backfiring" seems pretty straight forward."

"It seems that the man had gone through, extreme measures to ensure his lasting existence. He had torn his Soul into pieces and stuck them in objects, giving him the ability to revive himself." Fury said disgust ringing through his words.

"And?" Clint asked. "That doesn't tell me jackshit about what they did to him!" He yelled, slamming his hands down on the desk in front of him. Staring at the horrible images still playing on the screen in front of him.

"Dumbledore went to the family of the child and asked to train him, raise him to destroy their not quite dead "Dark Lord." Harry, or Weapon as you know him, was that child. They raised him as a weapon to use against Voldemort, and they succeeded. The kid killed the Dark Lord, his soul pieces, and all of his followers."

"Those bastards!" Clint spat, anger pooling in stomach, "Has that kid ever had a chance to even be a kid!" Clint raged, thinking of his own unfortunate childhood. "You don't . . . you can't. . . " Clint ran his hand through his hair. Clint sighed, shoulders slumped. That kid had gone through worse things than him. God, he hoped those bastards burned in Hell for what they did.

"What will our next mission be?" Natasha asked calmly.

"Natasha!" Clint hissed glaring, "That stupid kid of a partner we have, who, by the way, refuses to go the the medical center, is still injured!" Clint yelled. "We can't possibly go on another mission this soon!"

"Your next mission is critical to the very existence of S.H.I.E.L.D Agent Hawkeye, so you will be being going on another mission." Fury said, glaring at his agent.

Hawkeye grit his teeth. "Yes sir."

"Coulson will debrief you on your next mission." Fury said sitting back down in his chair dismissing them.

Angrily Clint marched out of Fury's office. As the door hissed closed, Clint whipped around staring angrily at his Handler. "What is our 'oh so important' mission, sir."

A smirk overtook Phil's lips. "Agent Hawkeye, Agent Widow our new mission is to help Agent Weapon adapt to life here in America and help him adjust to living freely."