You're Not a Horse, Harry!

Number 18

Number 18

Harry had slept in, still getting used to the time difference, taken a long shower and fried himself a few eggs and some bacon for breakfast, when Jarvis told him he was expected in the communal living room. Harry ate the last few bites of food, dumped his plate in the sink, downed his tea and hurried towards the living room, curious what was going on.

All of the Avengers were gathered, plus lots of extra people. It reminded Harry of that time they’d wanted to know about his scar.

“Er…” Harry looked around in confusion and shuffled towards his mother who waved him over. Apparently, Loki had saved him a seat on the couch, so Harry sank down beside him and clasped his hands in his lap.

“It is paramount that we know of any threats that exist so that we can figure out how to best deal with them,” Mr Eyepatch said, who Harry now knew was called Nick Fury, director of SHIELD, the organization who worked with the Avengers. As far as Harry understood it, something bad had happened with SHIELD that involved Bucky, Steve, Sam and Natasha, but after a brief time of violence the bad guys had been found out and SHIELD had reformed and continued to work to keep the world safe. Or something. “This includes threats originating in the wizarding world. Is there something you’d like to tell us, Harry?”

Harry looked up, unsure what Fury was getting at, though he was starting to have a very strong suspicion what this was all about. “I’m good,” Harry said with a shrug, realizing that every eye in the room was on him.

“Natasha,” Fury said, stepping back so Natasha could come forward. She stood in front of them with her arms crossed and a narrowed gaze.

“For the last few months, I have been infiltrating the wizarding world,” Natasha said, and at once Harry wondered if she’d made it into Hogwarts, like Bucky had. “The Dark Lord Harry told us killed his parents has returned. He was never dead, just without a body for over a decade. And Harry was aware of this fact, since he was an unwilling participant in Voldemort’s resurrection at the end of the previous school year.”

Harry swallowed, breathing speeding up as he remembered a flash of green light, Cedric’s dead body falling onto the grass, Voldemort rising from the cauldron and the excruciating pain of the cruciatus curse.

“Haraldr,” Loki whispered, stroking a hand up and down Harry’s back. “Breathe, child.”

“Not a good experience, huh?” Tony said from the other side of Loki. “Hey, we’ve all been there, kid. Take your time.”

For some bizarre reason a lump formed in Harry’s throat and he had to swallow a fair few times to get rid of it. “What do you want from me? You already know he’s back,” Harry finally managed to whisper, glancing up at Natasha from under his fringe as he kept his head bowed.

Natasha’s expression was carefully neutral. “We need every detail you can give us, Harry. Describe every encounter you’ve had with him, because I have heard rumours that you’ve seen him before last year.”

“Fine,” Harry said, heart still pounding in his chest. “In my first year, Voldemort was possessing Quirrell, our Defence Against the Dark Arts professor. Dumbledore was hiding the philosopher’s stone at Hogwarts and Voldemort was trying to steal it, so we, that is Ron, Hermione and me, stopped him. I’m not actually quite sure how,” Harry added with a frown. “I kind of turned Quirrell to ash and then Voldemort fled as a wraith and I woke up in the hospital wing.”