Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter, or Iron Man, or The Avengers. As a result, I am making no money off of this-which is a shame, really, because another source of income would be awesome :/

Author's Note: I turned on the t.v. one night and Iron Man was on. I'd been kicking this story idea around for a little while before I saw the movie (I saw The Avengers with a friend), but, well, I already had my notebook out, and was trying to deal with a few plot-related issues with my other story, The Madman with a Box, and, well...this happened. I plan on at least one other chapter, maybe more if I can find the time/energy and get my hands on a copy of Iron Man and watch it again. We'll have to see how things go.

It's worth noting, I've never read the comics. This is based solely off the movies. Also, if any of my Madman readers find their way here and wonder why I've posted this instead of Chapter Three: I'm just waiting for Ash to give me her feedback. I anticipate posting the next chapter by the end of the week.

Update 11/11/12: Welcome to So Much For Staying Out of Trouble Chapter One version 2.0! I still have the original version saved, if it turns out you guys prefer that one more, but I personally felt that it-and all the other chapters I've written so far-needed some more work, especially in light of the fact I appear to be taking this story seriously now. So here you go, hope you enjoy :D

Chapter One: The Bet

It was supposed to have been an easy assignment. Magical items were turning up in Muggle secondhand shops. Not enchanted Muggle items—that would've been the Misuse of Muggle Artefacts office's problem—but actual magical items, like Snitches. Some of the items had Dark enchantments, and the public has always felt safer when The-Boy-Who-Lived-Twice deals with those cases.

So Harry and Ron had started visiting the shops and tracing the items back to their sources…and promptly been attacked by a crazy old hag who thought they were Grindlewald's men come to finish her off. And when they'd started firing spells back at her—mostly just Expelliarmus and the Full Body Bind, she was old and confused and they didn't want to hurt her—her house's defences had activated, and they'd had to call for back-up.

Harry had gotten away mostly unscathed; Ron had not. Which was why the dark-haired wizard currently found himself lurking in the shadows of St. Mungo's reception area, trying to make it to Ron's room without being noticed.

In theory, it wouldn't be too hard to manage; St. Mungo's seemed to be pretty busy. There was a man with what looked like Augurey feathers in place of hair on his head, sitting next to an older woman with colour-changing spots covering her skin. A teenager whose skin had turned green, and who was hovering a few inches above the ground, was resolutely ignoring his furiously whispering parents in one corner, while in another, a harassed-looking woman with her arm in a sling was desperately clutching a shuddering, clanging metal cage with a thick blanket covering it. There were a few other people with much more common conditions scattered throughout the room, and a handful of Healers running around as well.

In practice, though, it was never that easy. No matter where he went, people always seemed to notice him, and would stop him and ask for his autograph, or tell him what a great job he was doing as an Auror, or try to flirt with him, and as intrusive and unwelcome as he found it all, he could never find it in him to tell them to bugger off.

Harry Disillusioned himself and started making his way along the edge of the crowd. It was slow going, and there was a bit of an awkward moment when he forgot no one could see him and asked a Healer for directions, but eventually he found himself in a private room on the fourth floor. Ron was alone, though Hermione's coat and purse were lying on the windowsill. A number of cards and sweets sat on the table beside the bed.

"All right there, Harry?" Ron greeted him as he sat down. "How's the leg?"

"All right. Susan took care of it for me while I was reporting to Kingsley. How are you holding up?

Ron snorted. "I've got scales, mate. On my face. And a tail! And don't forget the cracked ribs. Nothing they try is doing any good. I don't think I've been this far from 'all right' since our little Horcrux hunt a few years ago."

"At least this time there weren't any Death Eaters. Or Voldemort."

"You think that makes it any better? When I end up in St. Mungo's, I want it to be because I was doing something dangerous and heroic, not because a cranky old hag got in a lucky shot."

"Fair enough," Harry grinned, leaning back in his chair and propping his legs up on the edge of the bed. "At least it wasn't as boring as we'd thought it'd be."

"It's never boring when you're around, mate," Ron mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate. "Remember that time we went for coffee and stumbled upon that smuggling ring?"

"Hard to forget accidentally giving yourself wings. You make it sound like that sort of thing happens all the time, though."

"It does, mate. But just when you're around. I've gone for coffee by myself dozens of times and never found smugglers or foiled a robbery or ended up kidnapped by a witch who wanted to have my babies. You, on the other hand, can't even go to the loo without tripping over a rabid Crup."

"That happened once!" Harry protested, sitting up straight in his chair and dropping his feet to the ground. "It's not like I trip over Crups every time I go to the loo!"

"Has anyone else ever?"

That made Harry pause. "I can too stay out of trouble," he eventually muttered, stealing a Chocolate Frog and biting into it with more force than was strictly necessary.

Ron snorted. "Wanna bet on it, mate?"

"You know what? Yeah, I do," Harry shot back. "I've been put on leave for a bit—seems Kingsley agrees with you that I'm trouble, and he needs a break from me. Two weeks. I bet you 10 Galleons I will have the most boring, uneventful two weeks of my entire life."

"You're on, mate. You're on."

~o~o~

Harry found himself plagued with problems almost from the moment he made the bet with Ron. Hermione, scandalized by how neither of them seemed at all concerned about their injuries or the case, had an apoplectic fit when she heard about the bet. She saw Harry's inability to stay out of trouble not just as a personal problem for him, but a potential disaster for the entire nation.

Privately, Harry couldn't help but agree; the things that bothered him did have an alarming tendency to bother Britain as well.

It took him awhile to settle on a destination—there were so many remote places to choose from—but eventually he decided on the Afghan desert. He'd heard the Muggles were still fighting in Afghanistan, but since a Google search showed that the war had been declared over and done with, he thought he could get away with picking a nice, remote part of the country, away from the areas where there was still fighting, and stay out of it.

There were supposedly a lot of scarcely populated areas in Africa, too, but Harry had never seriously considered going there. For one thing, there were a lot of Dark wizards running around, and though Harry was all in favor of defeating Dark Lord wannabes, he didn't want to lose his bet to do it. Africa could wait, he was sure to be sent there on assignment sooner or later.

Greenland was out, too, after what the Prophet had taken to calling The Polar Bear Incident.

The International Floo Network went offline for routine maintenance at about the same time Harry was ready to leave. Apparition was out, too; without a clear idea of exactly where you're going, you're liable to end up part of a rock or a tree or something. With Portkey and broom travel also off the table, for different reasons, that left Muggle transportation.

The flight from London to Dubai experienced engine trouble and had to turn back for emergency repairs. That caused him to miss his connecting flight to Kabul, and since he didn't want to wait another eight hours for the next one, he was forced to fly from Dubai to Kolkata (a Squib stewardess recognized him and just would not leave him alone) and then from Kolkata to Kabul (stuck between two screaming toddlers).

If he was being honest, Harry would admit that he'd thought about throwing in the towel right then and there. Only the thought of Ron's smug attitude—and the lecture Hermione would throw at him if he gave into temptation and punched his friend—kept him from giving up.

After he'd found a nice patch of desolate desert and settled in, things quieted down—so much so that he began to relax and seriously think he could win. The Wizarding tent he'd bought to camp out in was kept magically cool during the day, and warmer at night when the temperature dropped. He'd made sure the kitchen was well-stocked before leaving, so he wouldn't have to find somewhere to buy things and risk getting into trouble. He had all of the medical supplies he thought he might reasonably need, books (though not too many of those), a Wizarding Wireless, various puzzles and games, his broom, and a practice Snitch. He'd brought everything he thought he could possibly need.

He spent a lot of time outdoors, exploring the area and practicing his spellwork. Getting away from the Ministry for a while proved to be more enjoyable than he'd thought it would be, and he was really enjoying the peace and quiet.

And then, a little less than a week after he arrived in Afghanistan, a pillar of smoke appeared on the horizon.