A/N: OOOHHHMYYYGOODDD, I AM SOO EXCITED FOR THIS! I FEEL LIKE THAT LITTLE GIRL FROM "DESPICABLE ME" WHEN SHE GETS THE STUFFED UNICORN!
This is my first fanfiction, so please be gentle with me while I try to figure out all of the magic that is !
I would like to thank SlyLittleLuna1234, who's story "Blackhawk Potter" inspired this story, for graciously allowing me to play around with her idea!
Now, lets get to the good stuff!
Disclaimer: Sadly, I don't own, nor will I ever own, Harry Potter or Marvel's The Avengers. If I did, Harry Potter would be close to exactly the same, except I wouldn't kill Fred or Dobby, even at gunpoint. The Avengers, however, would be a big smutfest, because some of those characters are fine pieces of ass!
In a spacious nursery somewhere in New York City, six unlikely people gathered around a crib.
"Good Lord, can you believe she's already a month old?" Natasha said to no one in particular.
"I'm still upset you didn't name her after me," replied Tony indignantly, "Charlotte Nikola? Really?"
That earned him a dangerous glare from Natasha.
"You're jonesing for a thigh choke there, Stark," Clint snorted before casting his eyes down to the sleeping baby. "Besides we've told you several times. We're naming her after my mother, and you should be grateful you even get to be godfather."
"Everyone in here is going to be a godfather!" Tony said, his voice rising, "I'm-"
"Shh!" Steve shushed the billionaire.
"You'll wake the young Lady Barton," Thor chastised in an uncharacteristically quiet moment.
Bruce nodded in agreement, but said nothing.
"Like I was saying," Tony continued in a much quieter tone, "I should be held in a higher position than godfather because I am responsible for the Hawkbaby's existence. Who do you think told you guys to get your heads out of your asses and acknowledge the sexual tension between you two?"
Natasha raised an eyebrow. "Did you spend twelve straight hours pushing her out of your vagina?"
Steve turned beet red at the thought. You could take the guy out of the 40's, but you couldn't take the 40's out of the guy.
"No, no, no, Nat," Clint cut in. "Stark can give himself twelve percent of the credit."
The whole group dissolved into silent laughter as Tony glared.
"That joke is NOT funny anymore!"
"On the contrary, Man of Iron," Thor replied, wiping tears from his eyes. "That joke is ALWAYS funny."
Their attention turned back to the baby, who stirred, but didn't wake.
They were silent for a moment until Steve asked, "Is it weird that she still seems so small?"
"She's supposed to be small, Capsicle, she's a baby. But, just wait until she's like, seventeen, with Natasha's body and-"
"No, Stark!" Clint whisper-yelled, "No boys! Ever!"
"Even if it means getting to crack a few skulls and shis kebob some idiots with arrows?"
"NO!"
"It's a good thing we don't have to worry about that for-" Bruce started to say, but before he could finish, a white flash erupted in the room, knocking them all away from the crib.
Natasha found herself slammed into a wall, while Steve and Thor actually went through it. Bruce hit the door hard enough to splinter it, and was working on not Hulking out, and Clint and Tony were immediately knocked out upon hitting the wall opposite Natasha.
The noises had woken Charlotte, and she immediately began to wail.
Natasha forced her eyes open painfully, and scrambled to her feet, ignoring the urge to bend over and throw up. Upon seeing a stranger standing over her daughters crib, she pulled a pistol out of her thigh holster.
"If you know what's good for you," said Natasha in a deadly tone, pointing the gun at the strangers back, "You will move away from my daughter. Far, far away."
"And risk hitting your child?" the stranger asked in a British accent, waving his hand.
Natasha fired a shot at the strangers head, but an invisible force hit her, slamming her back hard against the wall, causing her shot to fly into the ceiling.
A dull pounding and moving dots took over in Natasha's head, and the last thing she remembered before her vision went black was the excruciating sight of the stranger picking her wailing daughter up and disappearing into thin air.
This, Natasha knew, was a scene that would haunt her until her dying day.
Professor Albus Dumbledore breezed into the Order meeting. As always, he commanded the attention in the sitting room at Grimmauld Place, so it wasn't long before the focus in the room had turned to the child he held.
"Ummm, Albus?" Lily Potter née Evans asked tentatively.
"Yes, Lily?" Albus replied, turning his gaze to her.
"Well…" she said, her eyes cutting to the sleeping infant. "Why is there…should that…whose child…"
"Bloody hell," Sirius Black muttered under his breath before speaking up for Lily in an exasperated tone. "Why is there a baby here?"
Dumbledore's eyes twinkled, although no one was really sure why. "I found her abandoned on the doorstep of a Muggle orphanage-"
"You were in a Muggle orphanage for what reason?" Remus asked skeptically, raising an eyebrow.
"I found myself craving Muggle chocolate," Dumbledore replied simply, as if it explained everything.
The room was dead quiet, and upon realizing that his explanation did not suffice, Dumbledore continued, "I Apparated to an alley in Muggle London, near which is an orphanage. Upon my return from the candy store, I heard crying, and went to investigate. I happened upon a basket which held the child and this note. Would you mind, Lily?"
He handed the baby off to Lily, who cooed at the sleeping infant. Dumbledore pulled out a piece of folded paper, unfolded it and began to read, "'Charlotte Nikola, born August 12th of this year, 1994. We cannot take care of her, but we do love her with all of our hearts.'"
No sooner had Dumbledore finished reading than Frank Longbottom stood, grabbing the paper out of his hands. Frank's eyes scanned the note angrily as he cried, "Are you mad, Albus? Bringing an infant Muggle into our midst? What were you thinking?"
The rest of the Order looked up at Dumbledore expectantly.
Dumbledore sighed, before conjuring a chair for himself and sitting in it. "I sense a great deal of power within this child," he said quietly, gazing at the child in Lily's arms. "With the right guidance, she could be our savior. All we need is someone to care for her."
James and Lily glanced at each other. So many emotions passed through that one look, that when James said, "We'll take her," he didn't even look at Dumbledore.
Albus nodded, smiling.
This was all going perfectly to plan.
1 YEAR LATER
Lily Potter gripped thirteen-month old Charlotte Potter in her arms as spun as hard as she could.
Nothing happened.
"Oh, God," she whimpered, her voice breaking. "Please don't let this be happening! Please! OH-"
She screamed as the door was blown off its hinges, causing Charlotte to look up at her in blatant alarm.
Why, oh why did she have to leave her wand downstairs?
As gently as she could with shaking hands, Lily set Charlotte in her crib and turned to face the hooded figure that had swept into the room.
"Give me the girl!" a high-pitched voice hissed.
"No!" Lily cried, pressing her body against the crib. "Please, don't do this, I'll do anything, please-"
"Step aside, Mudblood. Your blood-traitor husband is already dead, defeated even with a wand. What can you expect to do without one? Step aside, Lily Potter, and you may be spared."
Tears poured down Lily's cheeks as she shook her head violently. "N-n-no, take me, please," she begged, "Just let my Charlotte live, please, I beg of you, please."
The hooded figure gave a cold, hollow laugh. "As you wish, Mudblood. Avada Kedavra!"
A bright green flash, and Lily Potter was dead before she hit the floor, green eyes open, yet unseeing.
The figure stepped carelessly over Lily's body to the crib where Charlotte Nikola Potter had watched the whole scene without so much as a whimper.
The figure raised his wand once more, as Charlotte Potter stared at him curiously.
"Avada Kedavra!"
A bright green flash, but this time it was not the intended target who fell.
The hooded figure fell to his knees, letting out an inhuman scream of agony as his body disintegrated into naught but a pile of dust.
In her crib, Charlotte Nikola Potter sat back on her bum and began to cry as a faint, but definite, lightning shaped scar appeared on her forehead.
A/N: Please feed me reviews!