A huge thank you to Rosaamarilla (ao3) for looking over this chapter

Also, thank you all so much for all your comments, kudos, general support for this fic.

Some parts of the text in this chapter have been taken from HP& the Chamber of Secrets, HP& the Prisoner of Azkaban, and the 'The Avengers' (2012) film

CHAPTER 6

"The trouble is, the other side can do magic too, Prime Minister." - Harry Potter and the Half Blood Prince

His ears were ringing.

His whole head was ringing. It felt as if he had been hit by several bludgers, one after the other; the Slytherin beaters and Dobby the Elf sending the bludgers relentlessly after him.

It took several moments —several attempts, for Harry to open his eyes...

Only to find himself staring at a continuous, impossible, grey abyss...

It took a few more achingly long blinks to remember where he was... staring at the laboratory ceiling, on the SHIELD flying military ship.

Everything was muffled... as if the whole of the world had been submerged. The most that Harry could properly hear was the sound of his own breathing...

A shadow slid overhead; the small amount of daylight blocked. 'Thor, son of Odinson' loomed over him, peering down at him. His lips were moving, clearly saying something. But whatever it was, only garbled echoes reached Harry's ears...

The ringing eased slowly... to make way for music...

Harry tilted his head ever so slightly, regretting the action almost instantly; pain pierced straight through his skull.

Still, he couldn't help but feel relief in the next moment as his eyes landed on Fawkes' bright red-and-gold plumage; an 'ever-beacon of light' indeed.

Thor spoke again, calling Harry's attention back to the huge man-god. While he still couldn't make out Thor's words, they did seem to be getting clearer, less muted than before...

"—ou hear me? Are you well Young Harrý?"

Harry let out a long groan, "'m... fine..." though his words were betrayed by his wince in the next moment when he tried to lift his upper body from the floor. Thor's large hand pressed gently but firmly against his shoulder, interrupting any further ascension.

With a small huff, Harry propped himself up by his shoulder and arms, only lifting his head the smallest amount. He glanced at Thor, preparing to ask what had happened... The lab was in absolute chaos. There was broken glass and parts from various machines scattered everywhere. One of the machines actually smoked-and-fizzed before its blinking lights flickered out entirely. The walls were marked by an explosion, shrapnel embedded within them.

The only thing that appeared to have survived unscathed was the staff, although it was now on the floor rather than on the main table. Not that Harry had any intention of getting any closer to it or picking it up...

Though looking at it reminded him of the discussion with the Hat... that talk felt like it had happened a lifetime ago... Harry let out a heavy sigh; he had never managed to warn the others about the staff, and now this had happened —was happening—

Another voice grabbed Harry's attention. He turned his head — and there was Director Fury, the only other adult who he could still see around, speaking into his earpiece... for him to exit the room with only a brief glance to Thor and Harry.

Harry peeked back at Thor. Even the Norse god looked grim, his eyes trailing from where Fury had disappeared back down to where Harry lay.

Harry opened his mouth, ready to reaffirm he was fine... And yet, somehow, he ended up asking, "W'ere's Mjöln-r... —w'ere's your 'ammer?" (Something he might have been thinking about ever since the god had introduced himself...)

At least the question erased some of the sombreness etched into Thor's face. With a small smile, he promised, "When this matter is resolved I will show Mjölnir to you. But first, I need to make sure my brother does not—"

—A huge roar resonated through the whole space. Tremors reverberated through the floor beneath him, doing worse than nothing to alleviate the ringing still going on in Harry's head… black pulsated across his vision in time with the ringing in his ears and the beating of his heart, until black was all that he could see.

Belatedly, he realized that his eyes were closed once more...

He cracked open his eyes and was witness to Thor looking very much like the regal god of thunder, ready to smite whatever foe came his way... —and who also happened to glance down at Harry, a worried frown once more etched into his face...

"'O... G-o help, I will b' fine."

The god didn't need telling twice. Harry felt the floor shake, daylight returning to his pupils. The next time he opened his eyes, Thor was gone.

Harry's eyes met Fawkes' instead. Impossibly black eyes bore straight into him, seeming to pierce his very soul and lay bare his hurts. The phoenix let out a soft quavering trill that went through the whole of Harry —only for the music to be rudely interrupted by another roar invading the whole of the laboratory (and possibly even the whole of the ship).

Fawkes gave a cry as he turned to where the roar had come from, his wings puffing in agitation.

Eyes back on the phoenix, Harry mumbled, "you should go too, Fawkes. They will need you —you can help." Honestly, he wondered if he should also do something to help with whatever was happening. He had helped the director in the secret lab after all.

Fawkes let out several affronted coos — before a third deafening bellow yet again interrupted any possible further protest from the phoenix.

And yet, Fawkes was still hesitant, letting out a small, uncertain trill.

"I'll be fine... besides, the Hat is with me," Harry reassured him.

Fawkes gave him a final note - one that went straight through him - then spread his wings wide... and he took off, his tail ever so softly brushing against Harry's cheek.

Harry followed him with his eyes, until the phoenix disappeared from view... and a few beats more...

Maybe he should—

'There is no need to put yourself in an unnecessary amount of danger, Harry. The ship is full of men and women whose job it is to deal with outside threats: who deal with this sort of situation for a living.'

Harry let his head drop back down. He took several long, deep breaths, staring back up at the ceiling, making no move to get up, as if to prove his compliance... Still, he doubted they had ever come across a situation quite like this one before...

Half of those in the room hadn't even known about the Krees, and the Flerkens, and the Skrulls...

And the only one who appeared to possibly know anything about Loki was Thor... Even if he seemed to think the other god was his brother for some reason.

'Something to ask him when you next see him', was the Hat's only reply.

Harry's eyes opened slowly.

There was barely any sound around him. Despite all of the wreckage indicating a loud past, the laboratory was shrouded in an eerie calm now... even as cries - sounds of guns - sounds of explosions - continued from further away...

He wasn't sure how long he had stayed there; just laying on the floor surrounded by debris. At least the ringing in his ears had all but disappeared—

'Do not move.'

Body stiffening, Harry realised what had called his attention, what had made him open his eyes: the Hat. The Hat had whispered his name, calling him...

A shadow moved in the corner of his eye, and the Hat whispered another warning to stay as still as possible...

...

... Several l beats passed in utter silence, not a breath taken...

...

... Soft scrapes echoed against the cluttered floor...

...

... And the shadow glided back out of the room...

...

Harry shifted ever so slightly... his gaze locked on the retreating form.

It was Loki.

Though his back was to Harry, and his form more incorporeal than solid, Harry was certain it was the other god (the outfit was a dead giveaway).

And the most damning evidence of all: the just-as-translucent staff in his hand.

Dread pooled through Harry at the sight —along with resolve. He wasn't sure what he should do - what he could do - but he had to do something.

'Your cloak Harry.'

At least the Hat wasn't trying to dissuade him for a second time —or perhaps he knew there was nothing he could say that would change Harry's mind.

Harry straightened himself, brushing off the pieces of glass and metal that clung to his robes - thankfully few - and quickly pulled out his cloak from the Hat. With a practiced ease, it wrapped around his shoulders, the soft material's weight comforting...

... And off he went, in the direction Loki had gone.

'Have care, Harry; The element of surprise is your greatest ally, but once used it is lost.'

Catching up to the god proved easy. It helped that Loki didn't seem to be in a hurry, nor rushed for time in any way. The god appeared to be sauntering —gliding, unperturbed by the wreckage wrought even in the hallways... the cries and explosions echoing around them...

Still, heeding to the Hat's warning, Harry made sure to remain several steps behind him. He avoided any and all broken pieces of glass or metal, keeping his clasp on the cloak secure with his left hand, while his right held his wand at the ready...

...

... Until finally, they seemed to have reached their destination...

Voices could be heard from within, not loud... or agitated — but rather... calm and controlled...

There was something about the voice…

A cry rang through the space —and a second voice spoke: Agent Coulson...

Yet for some reason, that recognition was not a comfort. Instead, it made Harry's hair stand on end and his shoulders tense...

Moving from behind Loki and into the space, he turned the corner... and was granted a clear view of Thor in some sort of huge glass tank, like those in zoos.

But the god was paying no mind to the incorporeal Loki. His attention was focused solely on Agent Coulson, whose back faced Loki and Harry, pointing a huge gun at... —another Loki.

Harry tensed, adrenaline dousing through him. Something was about to happen, and he needed to be ready. .

Somewhere in the back of his mind, the Hat was whispering something about 'an illusion of himself', 'trickery for the mundane agents', as Harry's eyes went from the 'solid Loki' facing Agent Coulson, his hands raised in submission... to the transparent one holding the staff. It was then that he noticed the subtle aura(?) of the other Loki: his 'edges' were not as fine — as crisp... like a photograph that hadn't been properly taken, or properly developed...

The illusion (if that's what it was) was definitely serving its purpose: Agent Coulson was oblivious to the Loki coming up behind him...

...

Harry knew what was going to happen next —even before Loki started raising the staff. His own hand rose quickly (thankfully Loki wasn't in any kind of rush to stab the agent) and —"Experliarmus!"

Unlike what had happened to Lockhart and his wand though, the staff failed to fly out of Loki's grip. It only loosened... Just enough to be diverted from its intended target, to pierce Agent Coulson in the side rather than back — the stab all the more evident by the agent's gasp of pain... —and echoed by a cry from Thor.

The agent fell to the ground with a heavy thud; the staff left with a streak of red on its blade.

Not that Harry could pay Agent Coulson much attention. His cloak was probably the only thing that protected him from Loki unleashing his wrath — and staff — on him. Even now, Loki swerved round, searching for the caster...

Harry quickly but quietly moved to the right of where Loki was looking, taking a tiny breath... and pointing his wand at the ready... —'Petrificus Totalus!' crying out the spell with as much muster as he could manage.

While Loki's arms didn't snap to the side of his body nor did he fall, as Neville had last year, Loki did freeze mid-stride...

Harry eyed the motionless form warily...

He waited for a long breath, ready for something to happen...

For Loki to move...

'It will not hold him for so long... possibly even less so with whatever influence the staff possesses...', the Hat warned, speaking the words Harry had just figured out for himself.

He moved closer, and uttered a second disarming charm.

With no small amount of relief, the staff flew from Loki's frozen grip to land not several inches from Harry's feet.

However close it was though, Harry dared not touch it. Instead he thought it best to send a second body-bind curse on the still stationary god of mischief. While his body still didn't snap together, Harry was sure it stiffened further, Loki looking even more like a living statue. He could only hope this meant the spell would hold for a while. (Hermione's spell on Neville had apparently held most of the night… Up until Percy had come down to the common room and found Neville lying on the floor. The prefect had quickly released him from the spell, all while thinking it had been the result of a nasty prank from the twins. His following talk with Hermione - and Harry and Ron - about casting dangers and responsibilities had been the worst part of the Leaving Feast.)

Only then, with a heavy sigh, did Harry dare to look back to the staff. Still wary of touching it, he pointed his wand at it, "Wingardium Leviosa!" (making sure to make the 'gar' nice and long, Hermione's voice in his ear).

The staff rose... and rose... and Harry guided it with his wand, willing it to rise even higher, as he moved it to hover over the large glass cylinder holding Thor...

Only once fully on top of the cylinder did Harry let go of his hold. The staff fell with it, a clank resonating through the space...

A groan, quickly followed by a sputter had Harry's head snapping to the right —to where Agent Coulson was; half-sitting, half-slumped against the wall.

Harry rushed over, slipping the cloak off of his head.

He all but ignored the agent's own widening stare and soft gasp... or the cry of surprise from the glass tank... —or the heavy stare on his back...

The staff had definitely still cut a deep gash, altered trajectory or not. Agent Coulson had removed his jacket to press it against the wound, but a pool of red still covered a good portion of the lower left of his shirt along with the jacket...

He gave the agent a look, really not wanting him to use his energy on useless talk about Harry's cloak... or his magic in general. Thankfully the agent seemed to be able and willing to hold all the questions clear in the gleam of his eyes for later...

Harry crouched down closer, the Hat there and at the ready, 'Take a deep breath Harry. There are two spells that you should be able to cast that should help until he can be properly looked over...'

Harry took a deep breath - and gave a nod...

The sounds around him seemed to switch off as the Hat started talking once more:

'Deep breaths Harry... First, I want you to point your wand at the wound and say 'Tergeo' in a slow but precise motion, following the whole length of the wound... Your wand doesn't need to touch the wound, but you will need to get close to it...'

As he listened to the Hat, Harry moved closer to the agent, pointing his wand at the gash-

'This is a cleaning charm. It will remove any possible residue from the blade; magical artefacts are in general all the more dangerous to the mundane, as they have nothing to combat any possible lingering magic. Whatever adverse affects the staff could have - if any - this spell should hopefully keep at bay the most pressing of risks...'

Harry indicated to Agent Coulson to move his hand...

'Slow breath... and then 'Tergeo': Ter-ge-oooh... Slow but steady...'

Harry repeated the spell out loud, and the Hat gave him the go-ahead...

He pointed his wand pointing at the top of the wound... Willing his hand not to shake, Harry half-cried out, half-sang, "Ter-ge-ooo" as he followed the whole length of the wound, just as the Hat had instructed...

... The blood slowly disappeared as he went... from both the wound and the clothes...

... Agent Coulson sat frozen, his hand still holding the jacket he had moved out of the way, his mouth closed. If not for his eyes - his eyes moving between the wound, Harry, and his wand; trying to catch every detail of what Harry was doing - you would have thought Harry had cast the body-bind curse on him as well...

… Once the spell was completed, the Hat insisted Harry repeat the charm a second time in order to completely rid the area of any blood stains and debris...

The Hat gave brief but heartfelt praise, and Harry found himself letting out the long breath he hadn't even realised he was holding...

And then, with only that brief respite, the Hat was already calling to him once more, ready to instruct the second part: 'the bandage charm'. It was apparently - thankfully - supposed to be easier.

Once more the Hat repeated both spell and movement to Harry a couple times, all while reassuring he was doing great. And then, the Hat was guiding him and, as he had been instructed, Harry imagined clean, pure-white bandages all while he once more followed the length of the wound, crying out 'Ferula' (the spell more a sharp order than a song) —

Bandages suddenly appeared out of nowhere, to envelop most of Coulson's torso tightly...

The relief was short-lived as the next moment the Hat yelled a warning, and Harry felt a shadow slide over him, blocking out the artificial light. He knew he didn't have a chance to react in time —

—Boom!

Harry looked up —

And instinctively pulled back;

Agent Coulson was holding the large gun... which was still smoking...

Eyes wide, incredulous and apprehensive, Harry followed its trajectory to the other half of the room...

Or really: what was left of the other side of the room.

Just like in the lab, the gun's explosive detonation had left devastation in its wake: the control table all but destroyed, pieces of metal embedded in the floors and walls... But the focus was the large hole on in the walls facing them...

A grunt came from it.

Only then did Harry realise Loki's frozen form was no longer where he had left it.

There was a clank and a small groan from his right; the gun proving too heavy, Agent Coulson had dropped it by his side. The agent definitely looked like he had seen better days, but at least the bandages seemed to be holding... if for a bit of red slowly dampening the pristine white...

Harry quickly got to his feet, his wand pointing once more to the hole, where he could hear shifting— bang!

His head snapped to his left: Thor... with Mjölnir.

A small crack was visible on the inside of the glass, where he had already clearly swung the hammer (probably more than once) against the tank, trying to break it.

Keeping aware of the noises coming from the hole in the wall, Harry pointed his wand at the fissure Thor had already made, but on the other side of the glass, "diffindo!"

There was the expected beam of light — a sharp 'crunch' sound... Harry couldn't help but feel deflated when he noticed how small his own splinter was in the thick glass wall. It was definitely a lot smaller as he had been expecting (hoping)...

Not that he had a chance to cast a second one. There was a series of groans, a shifting and scraping against the floor, and Harry diverted his attention once more to the hole.

'The glass is too thick, and has most likely been strengthened by something. Even with the both of you working together, I wouldn't chance you having enough time before Loki comes through,' the Hat stated, voicing Harry's worries.

He tightened his grip on his wand, pointing it fully toward the hole, and wondered what he should do...

'Your cloak,' the Hat reminded him.

Harry quickly covered himself once more in the cloak, suppressing a curse.

The Hat continued, '...you cannot do this alone Harry.'

'What do you suggest?!' Harry couldn't help but think in frustrated panic—

Another 'bong!' echoed through the room from Thor swinging his hammer at the crack, still trying to get out.

And Fawkes was Merlin knows where, helping somewhere else — where the huge roars had come from...

'Mr Malfoy's spell from the duel: 'Serpensortia'.'

'What?' Harry blinked. His mind went to the duel and the snake Malfoy had summoned...

'It's not too complex 'Mr Slytherin'; you merely move your wand in the motion of an uppercase 'S', while thinking of a snake; The more precise the image, the better. It is a spell partial to parselmouths, which can only be good for you.'

But Harry's mind had left the duel, Malfoy, and the black snake… and moved to the basilisk Tom Riddle had set on him...

'Are - are you sure?'

'Any offensive spell you cast directly will give away your position almost instantly. It is best to divide his attention as much as possible...'

Harry gave a nod, and cried out, 'Serpensortia!'

And then, just like in the duel, a snake shot out of Harry's wand. It was far from the basilisk, but it was definitely larger than the one Malfoy had summoned... If anything, it was comparable to the boa Harry had freed in the zoo.

'I believe this one is a ball python rather than a boa constrictor,' the Hat supplied, as the snake -python- hissed, rearing back and ready to attack... — only to pause in the next moment as it failed to sense any nearby threat.

The python swerved, somehow knowing where Harry stood, hidden beneath his cloak... and shot a questioning look up at Harry.

~~Umm, there - there's a man... through the hole in the wall...~~

The snake hissed, turned back, looked to the hole and flicked out his forked tongue, smelling the air — just as Loki stepped out of it.

He was much less put together than before; his eyes glanced around... and fixated on the snake-python...

But instead of doing anything to it, or even having the decency to look threatened by it, Loki just smiled with his teeth... Even as the python (at least three feet) started slithering closer, hissing threateningly...

Eyes tracking the span of the room, he called out, "You are the youth who arrived through the portal before I did — with a Hábrók." His eyes went round the room a second time, as if searching for Fawkes.

"Allow me to speculate... He went to aid with the monster. I do sense a certain... lack of mayhem and destruction... I will give credit, where credit is due: your skills are nothing to scoff at —impressive even, especially for one so young... What are you eleven... twelve...?"

He let the question drag, waiting for a reply...

"... But you still have much to learn. — I could teach you; make you great... You are not from this back-water realm. You owe these mortals nothing. Why don't you put down your small wooden staff... and pull off your shroud. You and I both know you have no hope of winning against me..." His eyes roamed for a third time across the span of the room, before looking back down to the snake once more. He gave a small chuckle, "As remarkable as your illusion is, near life-like, do you really think it is a matc—Ahhh!"

Loki had swung his hand forward, as if to cancel the illusion. And yet, with the motion, he had brought his hand closer to the snake, too close to the snake —and it struck, fangs sinking into the palm of his hand.

A sense of satisfaction ran through Harry—

Only for Loki to quickly get over his surprise. He grabbed the three foot snake with ease —and hurled it across the room. The snake hit the wall with a deafening thud.

Harry's heart stopped...

A small sense of grateful relief ran through him not two beats later, as a string of soft angry hisses came from the fallen form; bruised and defeated, but at least the snake was still alive.

As for Loki, only a sharp red mark that covered most of his palm was proof of where the snake had bit, as if it was but a scratch.

Eyes narrowed, the god once more scanned around the room... At least he didn't look as cool and unbothered as before. A win was a win, no matter how insignificant.

Not to mention, the continued banging every so often coming from the tank was surely a reminder that help was close —only a glass wall away. Harry was even tempted to send another diffindo to the glass. Only to remind himself (along with the Hat) that it would do more bad than good, giving away his position...

"Who are you?... You are not one of the Aesir." — as he spoke his visage seemed to flutter - quiver... and Loki split in two... one still in front of Harry, while the other - a similar ghost-like form to the one who had retrieved the staff - went towards the tank — towards the staff...

—"Diffindo!"

The two Lokis merged back into one, as the god was jerked back with a sharp cry... yet still very much on his feet.

All the more agitated, he swerved round, an angry red cut prominent on his right cheek; yet he was looking in Harry's direction, though thankfully not quite...

As Harry carefully moved to the side, Loki started looking around once more... his movements not as wide as before —

"Who are you?" His voice was angrier — demanding. "You carry the marks of Baldr and Ullr - yet you are neither from Asgard or Álfheimr. My father would have had you training with the Einherjar as soon as you were walking and talking—"

"Óðinn is not your father!" Harry couldn't help but retort —for him to tense realising his mistake; Loki was staring straight at him, cloak or not, his voice having revealed his location—

"Wait! - You're half-Jötunn!"

This second exclamation caught Loki off guard - just enough time for Harry to cry out 'Incendio' and for flames to streak out of his wand, heading straight for Loki—

Although the god gave out a second cry of surprise, he was able to swiftly avoid the worst of the conjured flames —

Harry tried the body-bind once more... for it to fizzle in as Loki waved his hand at it, all while moving closer—

Harry sent another diffindo to him —

"Your tricks won't work a second time — they only did so the first time by pure luck. I assure you it will not happen again. — Now; Who are you?" The question coming out more as a demand, clearly he was used to being answered when asking anything, as he easily manoeuvred out of the spell's way...

And then Loki was right there in front of him — ripping the cloak off Harry's head and growling, "Who - are - you?" — He slapped his palm flat against Harry's forehead —

—there was a man's voice, shouting, panicking —

"Lily, take Harry and go! It's him! Go! Run! I'll hold him off —"

The sounds of someone stumbling from a room — a door bursting open — a cackle of high-pitched laughter —

And then he heard it... Someone was screaming... a woman...

"Not Harry, not Harry, please not Harry!"

"Stand aside, you silly girl... stand aside, now..."

"Not Harry, please no, take me, kill me instead —"

"Not Harry! Please... have mercy... have mercy..."

A shrill voice was laughing — the woman was screaming —

And Harry knew no more.

"NOOooooo!" Thor yelled for the thousandth time that morning, his throat going raw, as he watched the youth — Harrý[2] - fall.

He swung Mjölnir once more, willing it to break this glass prison, to reach both boy and Loki...

Loki who was blinking down at the fallen child, face uncomprehending, "... A seidr," the whisper so low Thor nearly missed it.

"WHAT?" He couldn't help but growl, having misheard. Loki always had the art for pulling you in...

But Loki ignored him. His eyes continued to fix on the youth... a smile broke across his face, "Now this has just gotten interesting; a seidr."

Thor's arm halted mid-motion.

He had not misheard.

Only then did Loki look up to stare straight at him through the glass, his grin only widening further, "who would have thought..."

He took a step forward... and another…

His fingers trailed the crack Harrý had made on the outside of the cage, "And the tales said the seidrs had all died gruesome deaths. It seems the AllFather didn't kill all of them... nor was he the only one hunting them down. Well... just another lie from the AllFather I suppose."

Thor could only watch as he reached up overhead... retrieving the staff —

Thor sung Mjölnir, doubling down in his effort to break the glass — hitting it over and over again —even as Loki slung the child over his shoulder — and picked up Harrý's own wooden staff — and covered the shroud over both the boy and himself...

(No Notes for this chapter :) )