Chapter Text
It might have been just another long, boring night. Nod along to this man, plaster a smile here, fake a laugh there; the usual schmoozing that a high profile figure like himself would be familiar with.
Not that any of these muggles actually knew who he was.
Harry knew how to walk the walk and talk the talk (German, even. Death transcended language, so there was not even the worry of standing out as a Brit here). None of these high class people gave a second thought to the unknown man floating between conversations. He just needed to go unnoticed long enough for the arrival of—
Him, actually.
Prowling down the grand stair, long coattails billowing, hair slicked back, and a giant stature that just exuded confidence and power. It was the cane, however, clasped in hand, absolutely glowing with magic, that let Harry know that this was the one, this was the being that Death told him to look for. The alien god that Thanos was using to retrieve the Space Stone, to create general mayhem and murder in the process of subjugating Earth.
And also the father of one of Death’s Lieutenants. That made it personal.
Speaking of mayhem and murder – ouch – death by eye gouging. That looks like a slow and painful way to go. (He hopes he never has to experience dying that way, but who knows, really. That’s not something he can control most of the time.)
While most of the guests stampede out, running and screaming like frightened children, Harry throws on his invisibility cloak, stepping out of the stream of people and keeping an eye on his target through the masses.
Harry follows when the god moves outside and watches the scene, tense and ready to divert large scale attacks should they occur. But the longer the god rants, the more relieved Harry becomes. The alien was purposefully stalling. He was waiting for the American heroes to arrive, and it looks like he was saving the actual violence for then. Sure, he was putting on a brilliant show of being a mad god, but the only physical strike by the alien thus far had been for the eye, and that had been necessary for the god’s plot. It meant the alien was not entirely controlled. He still had some of his mind to himself and was able to play Thanos a little, make it seem like he was cooperating, but also limiting deaths where possible. Throwing off Thanos’ control of the god should be that much easier if he was consciously capable of assisting Harry’s endeavor to help him.
An elderly man, foolishly Gryffindor in his defiance, could not be ignored however. Harry cursed the man—despite how he himself used to act much the same—and waited with bated breath for how the god will respond, for he has to respond; it wouldn’t follow his act otherwise.
He needn’t have worried, of course. A metal shield – a patriotic metal shield, held by an equally patriotic man, protected the elderly citizen at the last second. The god probably planned it to be so, but still, thank Merlin for heroes arriving in the nick of time, even if Harry would appreciate a little less heart strain overall. (Not that it would actually affect him, but still, it was the principle of the matter.)
A brawl ensued, and Harry passively watched as the Americans, with not much teamwork between them, managed to bring in the god when he gave up. That was interesting, as Thanos would have noticed that. So there was a plan that required the god’s (presumably) temporary capture? Well then, it looked like Harry definitely needed to get in that plane with the heroes. (Was it even a plane? It took off vertically like a helicopter. Who knows? He’ll ask later.)
* * *
It might have been that Harry hadn’t had much experience with muggles or non-Earth beings, but he wasn’t of high opinion of either.
What was that? There’s something large on the roof of our small plane thing? (Seriously, what is this machine called?) Let’s open the door and let the unknown waltz in to steal our dangerous charge from under our noses!
What’s this? These pesky humans have my murderous brother chained up and confined in a small space? That won’t do! Here, let me take him out into the dark, uninhabited forest where it’s so much easier for him to escape!
And instead of any attempt at diplomacy, the two sides just brawl each other, leaving the mad god sitting unattended.
But the god didn’t move. Not a single twitch towards escape. He definitely needs inside the heroes’ base.
* * *
It might have been that once Harry had followed the mad god and the ragtag band of heroes into their base (yet another stupid special flying machine that he doesn’t know what to call), he wasn’t quite sure how to reveal himself to so many armed and dangerous people. He shrugged to himself, oh well, rip it off like a band-aid and hopefully if he’s killed it’ll be quick.
So once all the heroes were seated, he uncloaked himself, cleared his throat, and was promptly faced with more weapons than he could count and a thick tension in the air.
Oh. Yeah, that’s a thing. The Hulk is definitely a thing. That Harry forgot to account for. Whoops.
Luckily, the good doctor just looks a little green around the gills… and eyes. But no worry, the man’s control is absolutely astounding; Harry might have to take a peek in that mind later to see just how the he does it. Absolutely phenomenal.
“Harry Potter?!?” came the incredulous voice of a man wearing too much leather and an eyepatch. The eyepatch reminded Harry of that poor man back in Germany…
Harry quirked an eyebrow, “You know me?”
“What the fuck!?!” the man so eloquently replied.
Harry’s other eyebrow rose. How unprofessional.
“Well I suppose you knowing who I am helps me out.”
The billionaire broke in, “Uh, hello? Mind informing the rest of who you are? Cause I for one am at a loss. Anyone else?”
Harry’s eyes flicked over to the interrupter, then back to the cyclops.
“What do you want?” the man growled, also ignoring the billionaire.
Harry sat in one of the chairs at the table, frowning when he realized how terribly uncomfortable they were. Maybe secret government agencies were spending so much money on unnamable flying contraptions that they couldn’t afford comfortable furniture to fill them with. Shame. They needed to get their priorities in order.
“Well,” Harry drawled, still perfectly aware of how on edge the entire room was, “I came to offer assistance with your little god problem,”
The man’s eye narrowed, “I was under the impression that your people kept to their own issues.”
“Your people?” came another interruption, this time from the big blond man with a plan, but also ignored.
Harry’s eyebrows climbed again. They were getting quite the workout today. “Well this issue involves our entire planet, and as you are at a loss when it comes to understanding magic, it seems sensible that at least one of my people assists you.”
“I wasn’t aware that your people were in contact with you,” the man in too much leather interrogated.
“They’re not, they’re probably not even aware of this situation,” Harry shrugged. Things were… weird between him and the Wizarding World once it came out that he was immortal. He just wanted to be left alone, so alerting the wizards that there might be an alien invasion was not high on his priority list (not to mention that they probably wouldn’t believe him anyways).
“Then what the fuck are you doing here? How the fuck did you get your intel?” The director seemed to be even less trusting now.
“Death told me,” Harry stated calmly.
…
Silence.
“Wait, wait wait—what do you mean ‘death’ told you? And who even are you? How did you get in here?” the genius asked again.
“Magic,” was the simple reply.
“Magic?” was the incredulous response.
“Yes,” Harry answered, “My name is Harry Potter and I’m a wizard. I come from the Wizarding World; a collection of magic communities hidden throughout Earth,” Well, no one ever accused him of being tactful. Bluntness, you are thy name.
Most of the heroes didn’t know what to do with that. Maybe they wouldn’t be as helpful as he had first assumed.
“Are you even human?” the super soldier finally asked.
“Yes, just... with a little genetic quirk, if you will.”
“They don’t have the clearance to know this!”
Harry shot the director down quick, “Too bad.”
“Fury said that you’re not it contact with the Wizarding World?” the redhead finally spoke up.
Harry leaned back in his uncomfortable chair, crossing his arms behind his head and making a noise in the back of his throat, “That might be because I’m mistakenly known as the Master of Death.”
“There is no being greater than Death,” the thunder god stated indignantly.
“Correct, that’s why I said ‘mistakenly known as’.”
“Are you one of her Lieutenants, then?” the prince inquired.
Harry shrugged, “Not really, it’s... complicated.”
“Then were you sent due to Loki’s status as father of a Lieutenant?” the fellow immortal questioned further, curiosity knotting his brow.
(“Loki’s a dad?” muttered by the genius was once again ignored.)
“No. That made it personal, but no. I would be here regardless. I was sent to help you free your brother of the control Thanos has on his mind,” Harry proclaimed.
He was met with a wall of confusion.
“Really? None of you see it? Not even you, his brother of a millennia?” Harry asked, turning towards the thunder god, who ducked his head in embarrassment, even while his eyes went wide with fear and hope. Harry sighed. “You brother’s not just mind controlling people, he is mind controlled.”