VIRIDI INVIDIA | harry potter | avengers

prologue

Avengers tower, shining in all its glory, stands tall over New York. Basically a beacon of what some could consider protection. Others not so much.

It could also stand to be a glaring reminder of the pure devastation that was wrought upon the once peaceful city.

Loki.

Yes, that Loki.

The very same Loki who rained hell upon the city, destroying the centuries worth of history teeming through each brick in the architecture.

Well now he's an Avenger too. He wouldn't be if United Nations had any say.

He stands on the quinjet landing pad. Armour traded in for a black suit; with matching shoes that shine in the fading sunlight. In his right hand he twirls a dagger with deadly precision; in his left he holds another's hand.

The girl is short, seemingly around ten. The raven hair upon her head mirror's Loki's almost perfectly. Except she has barely noticable auburn streaks weaved through it. She wears green. Not an obnoxious lime green you often see on the streets of sny major city, no this is a deep forest green.

Her dress sways in the wind as she gazes up at Loki. To most this would seem to be an unnvering sight; the world's first alien invader holding hands with an innocent young girl. All the while playing with knives on the other side.

The two are picturesque, however. No one can deny that. Particularily not Natasha Romanoff, who stands behind them watching with a smile.

Her trained eye allows her to see the subtle way he places himself closer to the edge of the quinjet pad, knife hand pointed outwards. The young girl is talking animatedly about something, although Natasha can't hear it over the wind, she can see the genuine glee on the girl's face.

While to everyone else, Loki's expression would seem stoic and uncaring. But the girl can see the softness behind his eyes, and had Natasha been closer she would have been able to as well.

The Black Widow approaches them quietly, eventually coming to a stop on the girl's left side. Loki glances to her, smirks, and returns his gaze to the horizon as if he's waiting for something.

"What are looking for?"

Loki looks back to her before looking down at the young girl again, who hides a yawn behind her hand. He smiles, albeit softly and responds.

"I promised Chas fireworks, did I not?" Natasha smiles and takes hold of the girls other hand.

Chas, formally known as Chastity, gazes up at the assassin and smiles widely.

"Mom?" Natasha's heart skips a beat, she loves it when she calls her that.

"Yes, baby?"

"You love me, right?" The red-head's smile falls and she lets go of her hand. She crouches down to eye level of Chastity.

"Of course I do! Why wouldn't I?" Loki looks down at the two in concern for a moment, once again catching Natasha's gaze, also concerned.

"Because I'm not your daughter? Because my mother didn't want me and so now you have to take care of me because you're with my Dad?" Loki, now established as Chastity's father, furrows his brow, awaiting Natasha's answer.

"You моето малко цвете, are the best thing that's ever happened to me. It's like you are a gift from the gods to me, my darling." Loki smirks and looks back toward the dying sunlight.

"I love you мамо " Natasha smiles and takes Loki's offered hand to help her stand.

Chastity settles between her father and new mother with a gentle smile on her face.

"Well done, my love." The assassin smirks over at her boyfriend, soon to be fiancée if the ring box in Loki's pocket is anything to go by, and leans over Chas to deliver a feverish kiss.

"Ew!"

They break apart and laugh.

Yes they are an odd family, but, nothing could ever come between them.

"The longer I watch then together the more I think, 'yeah, this is normal'". Thor, who stands in the window watching his younger brother's family, turns toward Tony Stark, who appeared next to him. "Then I remember that he's a god, she's an assassin and Chas is a powerhouse of magic that could level New York city."
Thor lets out a booming laugh and claps Tony on the shoulder.

"Perhaps it's good then that the 'powehouse' is on our side." He begins to walk away from the scene, followed by an annoyed Stark.

"What was Loki thinking? Hecate, greek goddess of magic, and him. A trickster who likes to play with peoples minds. What did they think they were going to produce? A figure skater?"

○○○○

The good thing about Hogwarts, to Harry Potter anyway, is that he has his own bed. In a room that, although shared, is considerably more favourable than the cupboard he usually found himself in as a young child.

No ridiculous chores, ludicrous work conditions (bar Snape's impending icy glare), and most importantly--no Dursleys.

As he sits at the welcome feast of his fourth year he feels complestely at ease. His two best friends by his side and his spot secure on the Quidditch team until graduation, he feels as though this year will finally be something the celebrate. Perhaps for once there won't be anything to ruin it or make it "interesting".

But you can always count on Dumbledore to make things slightly more chaotic than necessary.

"Attention students! Before we begin the sorting ceremony, I have a few announcements. Firstly, quidditch this year will be cancelled-" an uproar of angry team members errupts from each table, effectively cutting off the headmaster. "Because... Hogwarts has been selected to host the highly sought after tri-wizard tournament!" There's a pause before a slow applause begins amongst the students.

Harry glances to Hermoine, who as always, seems to know exactly what's going on. She goes to explain, but is ironically, intereupted by Dumbledore.

"More on that in a moment, but right now, we are welcoming a new student!" Yes, Dumbledore. As they do every year.

"Joining our fourth years in their studies, will be Miss Chastity Romanoff." The fourteen-year-old steps up from the crowd of first years, which Harry should have noticed her in.

She says nothing, only sitting down on the stool in a silent stupor. The hat is quickly placed on her head, preventing Harry from getting a good glimpse at her face. But judging on the awestruck look of the students around him, excluding Ron, who is too busy stuffung his face., she must be a sight to behold.

The hat murmurs to her for a moment, and in return she shrugs her shoulders, as if she doesn't care what house she is placed into.

"Better be... Slytherin!"

Well, there goes Harry's thoughts of ever getting to know her.