I am not JK Rowling, and my last name is not Disney, so I do not own Harry Potter or the Marvel Cinematic Universe (MCU), although I do play in their sandboxes. This not-too-serious story will most likely be updated on and off as the muse hits me or as I sit and watch the Marvel Universes stories I have missed.
For those who like Norse mythology and the quicky Marvel lore, enjoy
Everyone still had a tiny part deep inside the human psyche that allowed us to survive the ancient African savannah, including the exalted members stationed on one of SHIELD's premier Helicarrier. That psychological fight-flight response kicked off with a vengeance when a black portal suddenly opened on the bridge, dropping the temperature by thirty degrees.
Like a dear caught in the headlight of an oncoming car, everyone stopped moving. Many could hardly breathe as they felt something was coming, primordial and terrifying.
"Come on, Haraldur, let's find father and tell him the good news." A definite female voice called out unexpectedly from inside the portal.
"One moment, luv, alright, let's go," a deep male voice replied.
Two beings stepped through the portal. The woman wearing a dusky mantle trimmed in red came through first. An ethereal beauty whose bright blue eyes burned with an inner fire
Pushing her stark white hair out of her face, members of SHIELD witnessed half of the beautiful woman turn into a decaying and grotesque corpse. It was only for a moment, but it sent chills down every mortal's spine.
The second figure could hardly be seen, cloaked in darkness, but his presence was felt. When asked later, only a few were able to give a description of a young man with messy black hair and glowing green eyes.
"Why must mortals involve themselves with things that should be left alone," the man sighed, looking up the stairs.
"Haraldur?"
Although many in the room didn't see it, the one called Haraldur once called Harry Potter, gave his companion a warm smile. "Seems we have to pick up something before talking with your wayward father."
Hel, the Norse goddess of death, returned the smile and raised her arm for him to take, which he did so happily.
"Oh, didn't expect someone to be playing video games." Harry chuckled, looking over at one screen.
"Shall we be on our way, Haraldur?"
"Of course," turning to those on the bridge, the Master of Death announced cheerfully, "Carry on."
Harry Potter of old would have stared in wonder at the technology surrounding him, but that little boy who once slept under the stairs had long disappeared. After the defeat of the Dark Lord Voldemort, life went on as expected. Or so he hoped.
Working as an Auror and getting married to his childhood sweetheart were all within his grasp. That was until a young man who lost his parents to Death Eaters decided it had been Harry's fault for not defeating Voldemort quickly enough.
He and his girlfriend had been eating lunch at Hogsmeade Village when a green spell hit him in the back of the head. The people in the pub were quick to subdue the wizard who cast the killing curse. What they didn't expect was for their savior to sit back up.
It seemed as if the magical world had turned on him again, much as it had done throughout his school years. Eventually, it became too much when even his friends appeared uncomfortable around him.
Those who witnessed the murder inside the Three Broomsticks felt as if something had changed in the room when those green eyes opened again. Something dark and cold, and it scared them.
Cries of Harry being the next Dark Lord, to whatever woke up on the floor was someone else appeared in the newspapers. Deciding to leave England, he traveled the world, visiting ancient sites and studying magic. He soaked up knowledge like fish to water, from ancient Mayan magic in the Americas to rituals taught by African shamans and even Onmyōdō magic in Japan.
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When Harry returned home, he found that his friends had moved on. But one thing that he did not do was age. Glamours worked for a while, but eventually, he was found out, and once again, cries of him being a Dark Lord followed him everywhere.
He had enough.
Apparating into the Ministry took no effort, and the Master of Death took a familiar path to the Department of Mysteries. However, a few brave Aurors confronted him, but their spells failed. Even one he once called a friend, his red hair standing out, stood in his way. But he had no time for them. Those who crossed his path felt that death was judging them, and most fled in panic.
"Are you alright, my love?" Hel said softly as the pair continued to make their way toward where Loki was kept.
"Old memories reminding me that mortals fear what they do not understand."
Hel stopped, looking very serious, and said, "Well, I am scared of you, terrified even."
Harry laughed, then kissed his betrothed on the nose. "I'm sure."
Those who knew her would be shocked when the goddess of death giggled and snuggled up to her beloved—someone who also understood betrayal and loneliness.
"Ahh, this must be the place," Harry stopped before a door.
Thor, the god of lightning and storms, had almost stumbled when the portal opened on the bridge. Now, he could feel anger and disappointment but mainly power approaching the room where he and his companions had been arguing moments before.
A wave of fridge-cold swirled around them as he watched as a young woman entered and stood before him.
"Uncle, good to see you."
"Niece," he looked down, shocked, not expecting to find his brother's daughter out of death's grim, frozen lands. "Why, how are you here?"
"My betrothed Haraldur knew of my desire to leave Niflheim, even only for a little while, so I thought it would be splendid time to visit father."
"Betrothed?" Thor said before stepping back when something else entered the room.
The being garbed in shadows greeted Thor warmly before reaching for Loki's staff that Brue Banner currently held.
"Sorry, mate, I'll be taking that from you. Not something you should be playing with." Harry smiled at the others. "Pleasure meeting all of you."
Hel nodded regally, then closed the door behind them.
Only Thor could truly see through the veil surrounding the cosmic entity her niece called Haraldur; however, the others in the room saw something else.
"I think I remember him from Afghanistan." Tony Stark looked like he had seen a ghost. With a frown, he turned toward the others.
"Hürtgen Forest," Captain American murmured, then shook his head. "No, he was in the plane with me before I went into the ice."
"The Red Room," Natalia Alianovna Romanov, the Black Widow, whispered before collapsing against a wall, hugging herself. "He was always in the Red Room with us."
Bruce Banner, also known as the Hulk, stood perfectly still; he could feel his other half retreating into his mind. He was terrified of the being who disappeared with Loki's staff.
One would expect the two to be confronted at some point, but they continued to pass through the hallways unmolested.
"These mortals should know that my father is exactly where he wants to be," Hel commented as they took another flight of stairs downwards.
"One does wonder." Harry then shrugged. "Then again, people believe what they want to believe. Once we're done here, let's take a quick trip to New York."
"The other stone?"
Harry nodded.
"Don't forget we said we would meet mother for dinner."
"I remember, New York shouldn't take up too much time. We'll even drag your father along." Harry grinned. "Sigyn will appreciate the gift."
Hel's laughter filled the hallway.
Grabbing the end of the Chitauri Scepter, Harry gave it a twist breaking off the glowing blue stone before pocking it. Vanishing the rest of the staff, he opened the door leading to Loki's prison location.
The god in question stood quietly, confused, slowly moving towards the back of the glass prison. Much like his brother, the god of mischief felt the portal open and thought that letting himself be captured by SHIELD might not have been the brightest idea.
"Well, father, you're looking good," Hel warmly greeted the prisoner, stepping out of the shadows.
Then frowned, waving her hand. "Haraldur, can you please do something about this? That's not my father."
Harry waved his hand, and suddenly Loki's eyes went from blue to green.
"Daughter, how did you get here?" The god of mischief looked suddenly confused. "How did you leave Niflheim?"
It was then he noticed the other person in the room. "Oh."
"Father, let me introduce my betrothed, Haraldur," Hel announced happily.
"Greetings, Loki Odinson. I hadn't really thought that this was where we would meet for the first time. However, I came across eighty very unhappy souls that had a fascinating story."
"Eighty souls, you say," Loki, son of Fárbauti, stumbled away from the entity with glowing green eyes when the glass in front of him vanished.
"Oh, we're having dinner with mother." Hel hadn't stopped grinning. " By the way, she also has a few questions."
"Ah, my Lord, then by your leave." Turning towards Harry, Loki said affably, "I'll just wait until you come back to have our discussion."
Harry rolled his eyes, grabbing his soon-to-be father-in-law with one hand and his girlfriend with the other before disappearing, leaving Thor to answer any questions.