The last of the SHIELD helicopters disappeared over the Manhattan skyline like mechanical ravens returning to their roost, leaving behind only the acrid smell of jet fuel and the lingering tension of bureaucratic overreach. Harry Potter—six feet two inches of devastatingly handsome British perfection who somehow managed to look like classical sculpture given life and an excellent tailor—watched their departure with the kind of satisfied expression usually reserved for watching particularly deserving enemies get their comeuppance.
"Right then," he announced with that devastating combination of upper-class British authority and casual confidence that made grown women weak in the knees, "shall we adjourn to somewhere more civilized? I believe we've provided quite enough free entertainment for government surveillance satellites for one afternoon."
*Plus I could really use a proper cup of tea,* Daphne observed through their mental link, her aristocratic voice carrying that particular combination of elegant disdain and genuine need that came from years of refined breeding. *All this cosmic intervention is exhausting, and American coffee is barely fit for industrial purposes.*
*Speak for yourself,* Tonks replied with characteristic irreverence, her violet hair shifting to a more relaxed purple as she stretched like a contented cat. *I could go for something stronger than tea. Fighting cosmic battles works up a proper thirst.*
*Perhaps we should accept Mr. Stark's earlier invitation?* Hermione suggested with scholarly practicality, her brilliant mind already cataloging the strategic advantages of establishing a base of operations in the tower. *The facilities appear quite sophisticated, and it would provide an opportunity for more detailed introductions.*
*Plus the man's got excellent taste in interior design,* Susan added with warm appreciation, her gentle voice carrying undertones of genuine aesthetic pleasure. *That living room alone probably cost more than most people's houses.*
*And the threads of destiny suggest some rather interesting conversations in our immediate future,* Luna said dreamily, her silvery eyes showing glimpses of potential timelines where cosmic secrets were shared and alliances forged. *Very harmonious energies, actually.*
Tony Stark, his Iron Man armor retracting with mechanical precision to reveal sharp brown eyes and the kind of perfectly maintained goatee that suggested significant attention to personal grooming, gestured toward the tower's interior with theatrical flair.
"Ladies, gentlemen, cosmic entities of indeterminate classification," Tony announced with that particular combination of genius intellect and showman's instincts that had made him famous across multiple industries, "welcome to Stark Tower. Home of the best scotch in Manhattan, the most advanced technology on the planet, and what I'm told is a fairly impressive view of the city you just helped save."
"Don't forget the ego," Natasha added dryly, though her green eyes held traces of fond amusement as she surveyed their host. "The ego is definitely impressive."
"The ego is proportional to the accomplishments," Tony replied with wounded dignity that fooled absolutely no one. "It's called accurate self-assessment."
Thor, meanwhile, had been engaged in increasingly heated negotiations with Agent Hill regarding the custody of their theatrical prisoner. Loki sat bound in the corner like some malevolent scarecrow, his pale features set in lines of aristocratic disdain despite the magical restraints that kept him both immobilized and mercifully silent.
"Deputy Director Hill, I must insist," Thor said with divine authority that somehow managed to sound both respectful and absolutely immovable, "no Midgardian prison can possibly hold the God of Mischief. His magical abilities far exceed your technology's capacity to contain."
Hill's expression suggested she was rapidly developing a headache from dealing with cosmic jurisdiction issues that weren't covered in any manual she'd ever read. "Prince Thor, SHIELD has experience with enhanced individuals. Our containment facilities—"
"Have never dealt with someone who can reshape reality with a thought, phase through solid matter at will, and possesses centuries of experience in escaping from theoretically inescapable prisons," Harry interrupted politely, his Soul Stone perception reading Loki's spiritual signature like an open book of mischief and barely contained magical chaos. "With respect, Deputy Director, your facilities are designed for enhanced humans, not cosmic entities with delusions of grandeur and daddy issues."
*Plus the magical restraints I've put on him are specifically attuned to Asgardian physiology,* he added through the mental link with characteristic British understatement. *SHIELD's technology couldn't maintain them for more than a few hours before he figures out a workaround.*
*And then we'd have an escaped god of mischief loose in a government facility,* Hermione added with scholarly concern, her Mind Stone consciousness already calculating the potential security breaches and collateral damage. *The political implications alone would be spectacular.*
*Spectacularly entertaining, you mean,* Tonks corrected with obvious anticipation. *I'd pay good money to watch Loki tear through a government black site like a magical tornado of aristocratic fury.*
*Focus, love,* Susan chided gently, though her own thoughts carried traces of amusement at the mental image. *We're trying to prevent international incidents, not encourage them.*
Hill looked between Thor's divine authority and Harry's casual confidence, clearly recognizing that she was dealing with forces well beyond her pay grade and possibly beyond the pay grade of everyone she knew.
"Prince Thor, if your brother is that dangerous, perhaps—" she began diplomatically.
"He returns to Asgard to face judgment before the Allfather," Thor said with absolute finality, his blue eyes holding the weight of royal responsibility and family obligation. "It is our way, and our burden to bear. I give you my word that he will trouble Midgard no more."
*At least not for a few centuries,* Luna added dreamily, her Time Stone showing her glimpses of potential futures where Loki's character development followed predictably dramatic arcs. *The threads of destiny suggest he's learned his lesson. Mostly.*
*Mostly?* Harry asked with raised eyebrows.
*Well, he is the God of Mischief,* Luna replied with serene logic. *Some level of dramatic flair is simply inevitable. But nothing approaching this level of cosmic threat again. He's been thoroughly educated about the consequences of megalomania.*
Hill clearly wanted to argue further, but one look at the combined authority of Thor's divine bearing and Harry's cosmic confidence convinced her that this was a battle she couldn't win without causing significantly more problems than it would solve.
"Very well," she said with professional resignation. "But I want detailed reports on Asgardian security measures for cosmic prisoners, and I want them filed with SHIELD intelligence for future reference."
"Agreed," Thor said with diplomatic relief. "Heimdall will provide your organization with appropriate documentation regarding our containment protocols."
*Assuming Heimdall doesn't get distracted by cosmic poetry again,* Tony muttered through the mental link with fond exasperation. *Norse gods have the strangest administrative procedures.*
As the SHIELD teams completed their final withdrawal—a process that involved considerably more nervous glancing and whispered conversations than was probably outlined in standard operating procedures—the combined group finally made their way into Stark Tower's luxurious interior.
The moment they crossed the threshold into Tony's personal living space, the Death Dealers' armor began to shift and flow like liquid shadow, the cosmic-enhanced material responding to their unconscious desires for comfort and social appropriateness.
Harry's draconic armor dissolved away to reveal a perfectly tailored charcoal grey suit that somehow managed to make him look like a cover model for Gentleman's Quarterly rather than merely well-dressed. The fabric moved with him like it had been sewn by angels, emphasizing his broad shoulders and lean build in ways that made all his wives want to forget about cosmic responsibilities entirely.
*Oh, that's just unfair,* Daphne thought with obvious appreciation, her ice-blue eyes tracking the way the suit jacket emphasized his physique. *He looks like he stepped off a magazine cover. How does he manage to be that attractive by accident?*
*Practice,* Hermione replied with fond exasperation, though her own thoughts were running along distinctly appreciative lines. *Years and years of completely inadvertent practice.*
Daphne's own armor flowed into an elegant cocktail dress in midnight blue that somehow managed to be both sophisticated and subtly sensual, the fabric clinging to her curves in ways that suggested excellent taste and significant disposable income. Her platinum blonde hair fell in perfect waves over one shoulder, and she looked like aristocratic perfection given form.
Hermione's armor transformed into a professional ensemble that somehow made scholarly achievement look devastatingly attractive—a fitted blazer in deep burgundy over a silk blouse that emphasized her petite curves, paired with a pencil skirt that made her legs look miles long. Her wild curls were tamed into an elegant updo that revealed the graceful line of her neck.
Susan's armor became a flowing sundress in warm coral that complemented her strawberry blonde hair and freckled complexion perfectly, the fabric moving around her like captured sunlight. She looked like warmth and kindness given physical form, with just a hint of hidden strength beneath the gentle exterior.
Tonks' armor shifted into leather pants and a fitted top in deep purple that somehow managed to look both punk rock and elegantly sophisticated, her hair settling into waves of violet that caught the light like spun gemstones. She looked like trouble wrapped in designer clothing—which, Harry reflected, was probably accurate.
Luna's armor became a flowing dress in silvery grey that seemed to shimmer and shift in the light like captured moonbeams, her long hair flowing free around her shoulders. She looked ethereal and otherworldly, like a fairy tale princess who had wandered into the modern world and decided to stay.
Tony Stark, who had been in the middle of pouring himself a scotch, nearly dropped the bottle as he watched reality-altering cosmic technology casually transform into what appeared to be perfectly normal haute couture.
"Okay, hold on just one goddamn minute," Tony said, his voice carrying that particular combination of fascination and frustration that came from encountering technology that exceeded his understanding, "what the hell just happened to your armor? Because that was not nanotechnology, that was not holographic projection, and it sure as shit wasn't quick-change artistry. That was matter restructuring at the molecular level in defiance of several fundamental laws of physics."
*Language,* Steve said automatically, though his own blue eyes were wide with amazement at the casual display of advanced technology.
*The man has a point,* Bruce Banner observed quietly, his scientific mind clearly struggling to process what he'd witnessed. *The energy requirements alone for real-time molecular reconstruction should be enormous. Not to mention the computational power needed for accurate pattern storage and reproduction.*
"Magic," Harry said with that devastatingly charming grin that had been getting him out of trouble since his Hogwarts days, accepting a crystal tumbler of what appeared to be extremely expensive whiskey from their host.
Tony's carefully maintained expression of sophisticated amusement cracked like thin ice. "Magic. You're telling me that advanced molecular reconstruction technology that would revolutionize every industry on the planet is 'magic.'"
"Yep," Tonks said cheerfully, settling into one of the tower's obscenely comfortable armchairs with obvious satisfaction. "Good old-fashioned magic. Wave a wand, mutter some Latin, reality does what you tell it to. Simple as that."
*Not entirely accurate,* Hermione noted with scholarly precision, though her mental voice carried fond amusement at Tonks' deliberate oversimplification. *But close enough for present purposes.*
Tony's eye twitched slightly as his engineering brain tried and failed to process this explanation. "Magic. Right. And I suppose these 'Infinity Stones' you mentioned are also magic?"
"Cosmic artifacts that predate the universe and grant dominion over fundamental forces of reality," Luna said dreamily, accepting her own glass of what appeared to be white wine with serene contentment. "So yes, magic. Very impressive magic, but still magic."
"Cosmic artifacts," Tony repeated slowly, his voice carrying the tone of a man whose worldview was being systematically demolished. "That predate the universe. And grant dominion over fundamental forces."
"The Mind Stone grants mastery over thought and consciousness," Hermione explained with academic precision, settling gracefully into the chair beside Tonks. "The Space Stone provides control over distance and dimensional barriers. The Reality Stone allows manipulation of matter and energy at the subatomic level. The Power Stone offers raw cosmic force beyond mortal comprehension. The Time Stone enables temporal manipulation and precognitive awareness. And the Soul Stone grants dominion over the essence of life itself."
She delivered this explanation with the same tone she might use to describe the periodic table, as though universe-altering artifacts were perfectly normal subjects for polite conversation.
Tony's perfectly maintained goatee began to twitch as he processed these implications. "Universe-altering artifacts. That you're carrying around like cosmic jewelry. While having casual conversations about their capabilities as though they were... were..."
"Magical accessories?" Daphne suggested with aristocratic amusement, her cut-glass accent somehow making cosmic understatement sound elegant. "Because that's essentially what they are, Mr. Stark. Though I do appreciate your technological perspective."
*He's having an existential crisis,* Susan observed with gentle sympathy, her Reality Stone perception showing her the fundamental challenge this represented to Tony's worldview. *Poor man. His entire understanding of physics is being rewritten in real time.*
*Plus he's probably calculating the patent implications,* Harry added with fond amusement, his Soul Stone perception reading the complex mixture of fascination, frustration, and entrepreneurial excitement in Tony's consciousness.
Bruce Banner, meanwhile, had been unusually quiet during this exchange, his massive form somehow managing to look both intellectually curious and slightly concerned.
"The Hulk," he said quietly, his voice carrying the precision of someone choosing his words very carefully, "remembers you. Remembers... power. Different kind of power than anything we've encountered before."
*The big green fellow has interesting perceptions,* Luna noted with dreamy fascination, her Time Stone showing her glimpses of the complex relationship between Banner and his alter ego. *His rage grants him certain cosmic sensitivities. Very useful, actually.*
"The Hulk recognizes forces that transcend normal reality," Harry said with genuine respect for the gamma-enhanced physicist. "Cosmic awareness isn't limited to those who carry Infinity Stones. Sometimes pure, primal force can touch the same fundamental truths."
Bruce nodded slowly, his dark eyes thoughtful. "He kept saying... 'magic friends. Good magic friends.' Which is not exactly his usual vocabulary."
*That's rather sweet, actually,* Hermione noted with warm appreciation. *Cosmic recognition across species and psychological barriers.*
Steve Rogers, who had been listening to this exchange with the expression of a man rapidly expanding his definition of 'enhanced individuals,' cleared his throat diplomatically.
"Perhaps we should start with more basic introductions," he suggested with military practicality. "We know you're Harry Potter and the... Death Dealers." His slight pause suggested he was still processing the implications of that particular team name. "But beyond that, we don't know much about your background or your intentions."
*Actually, we know quite a lot about all of you,* Hermione thought with scholarly satisfaction, her Mind Stone consciousness having accessed extensive files on each Avenger during the battle. *But they know essentially nothing about us beyond what they've witnessed directly.*
"Fair point, Captain," Harry said with that charming grin that made diplomacy look effortless. "Though I should mention that thanks to Hermione's enhanced awareness, we actually know quite a lot about all of you already. Steven Grant Rogers, born 1918, enhanced with super soldier serum, spent seventy years in ice, leads through moral authority and tactical precision. Excellent work with the shield, by the way—the physics alone should be impossible."
Steve's blue eyes widened slightly at the casual recitation of classified information.
"Dr. Bruce Banner," Harry continued with the same conversational ease, "brilliant scientist, unfortunate encounter with gamma radiation that resulted in a rather impressive alter ego. The psychological integration challenges must be fascinating from a therapeutic perspective."
Bruce's expression suggested he wasn't entirely comfortable with having his personal struggles analyzed by cosmic entities, though he nodded acknowledgment.
"Anthony Edward Stark," Harry went on, his voice carrying warm appreciation, "genius inventor, philanthropist, recovered alcoholic with enough personal charm to make weapons dealing look philanthropic. The arc reactor technology is genuinely impressive—you've essentially created a miniaturized fusion reactor that shouldn't be possible with current materials science."
Tony's expression shifted from technological frustration to pleased surprise. "Finally, someone who appreciates the engineering challenges. Do you know how many laws of physics I had to creatively interpret to make that thing work?"
"Natasha Romanoff," Harry continued, his tone growing more respectful, "former Soviet operative, master spy, currently wrestling with questions of personal identity and moral alignment. The psychological strength required to overcome that level of conditioning is remarkable."
Natasha's green eyes sharpened slightly, though she showed no other reaction to having her personal history casually revealed.
"Clinton Francis Barton," Harry concluded, "master archer with accuracy that borders on supernatural, family man with the psychological resilience to maintain civilian relationships despite a career that would traumatize most people. The mental compartmentalization skills alone are impressive."
Clint lowered his bow slightly, clearly reassessing the scope of their guests' intelligence gathering capabilities.
"Thor Odinson," Harry finished, turning to the Norse god with genuine respect, "Prince of Asgard, god of thunder, currently wrestling with the responsibilities of leadership and the complexities of family relationships across cosmic scales. The hammer's worthiness enchantments are fascinating—consciousness-based security measures on a cosmic artifact."
Thor's blue eyes held a mixture of surprise and pleased recognition at being understood rather than simply categorized.
"And that's just from basic intelligence gathering," Hermione added with scholarly satisfaction. "We haven't even begun to explore the psychological profiles or tactical assessments."
*Show-offs,* Daphne observed with aristocratic amusement, though her mental voice carried warm pride in her family's competence.
Tony, meanwhile, was staring at them with the expression of a man whose understanding of privacy and security had just been completely recalibrated.
"Okay, that's either really impressive intelligence work, or cosmic awareness that makes government surveillance look like amateur hour," he said with grudging admiration. "I'm hoping it's the former, because the latter has some seriously disturbing implications for personal privacy."
"Both, actually," Luna said with dreamy honesty, her silvery eyes showing glimpses of the vast information networks that cosmic consciousness could access. "But we're not interested in your browser history or personal secrets. Just the information relevant to cosmic threats and planetary defense."
*Though your browser history is quite entertaining,* Tonks added through the mental link with obvious amusement, making Tony shift uncomfortably.
*Behave,* Harry chided with fond exasperation.
*I said entertaining, not disturbing,* Tonks replied innocently. *The man has excellent taste in recreational activities.*
"Right then," Steve said with military authority, clearly deciding to focus on practical matters before the conversation wandered into areas covered by privacy laws, "your turn. Who are you really, and what brings cosmic entities to Earth?"
Harry settled back in his chair with fluid grace, the perfectly tailored suit somehow making the gesture look like a magazine photo shoot.
"Harry James Potter," he began with that charming combination of confidence and slight self-deprecation, "formerly the Boy-Who-Lived, the Chosen One, and several other dramatically inappropriate titles. Currently husband to five remarkable women, Master of Death, and apparently cosmic champion of universal balance."
*Don't forget 'devastatingly handsome,* Daphne added through the mental link with aristocratic precision. *That's definitely one of your more important qualifications.*
*And 'criminally modest about his own accomplishments,'* Hermione added with fond exasperation.
"Born in 1980, orphaned as an infant when my parents were murdered by a magical terrorist calling himself Lord Voldemort," Harry continued with the casual tone of someone discussing the weather rather than personal tragedy. "Raised by my mother's sister and her husband, who were... less than ideal guardians. Attended Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I had the singular misfortune of being marked as the prophesied defeater of aforementioned magical terrorist."
The Avengers exchanged glances that clearly said 'and we thought our origin stories were complicated.'
"Spent my teenage years accumulating trauma, collecting loyal friends, and repeatedly failing to die despite numerous attempts by various dark wizards," Harry went on with British understatement that made genocide sound like a minor inconvenience. "Eventually defeated Voldemort through a combination of cosmic artifacts, loyal friends, and what my wife Hermione insists was 'careful planning' but which I maintain was mostly luck and stubbornness."
*It was definitely careful planning,* Hermione protested through the mental link with scholarly indignation. *And strategic thinking. And extensive research.*
*Plus a healthy dose of Gryffindor stupidity,* Tonks added cheerfully. *Don't forget the Gryffindor stupidity. That was crucial.*
*The stupidity was tactical,* Harry defended himself with wounded dignity.
"After defeating the dark lord," he continued aloud, "I married these five remarkable women, settled into what I thought would be a peaceful retirement, and then our entire universe ended in nuclear fire because humanity couldn't manage basic diplomatic relations for more than a few decades."
*That's a rather pessimistic assessment,* Susan observed with gentle reproof, though her voice carried underlying sadness at the memory. *They managed almost thirty years of relative peace.*
*Thirty years is barely a blink in cosmic terms,* Luna added dreamily. *Like measuring a heartbeat in geological time.*
"At which point," Harry concluded, "Death herself recruited us as cosmic champions to prevent a purple megalomaniac named Thanos from courting her through systematic universal genocide. Which brings us to the present moment, sitting in your excellent tower, drinking your impressive whiskey, and having philosophical conversations about cosmic responsibility."
Tony's eye was twitching again as he processed this casual recitation of apocalyptic events.
"Your entire universe ended," he said slowly, "and Death—capital-D Death, the cosmic force of entropy itself—personally recruited you to prevent universal genocide in our reality."
"That's a remarkably accurate summary," Harry confirmed with obvious approval. "Though you forgot the part about the universe-altering artifacts and the ridiculously attractive wives."
*Ridiculously attractive?* Daphne repeated with aristocratic amusement. *Such modesty, darling.*
*We are rather gorgeous,* Tonks added with characteristic lack of false humility. *Cosmic enhancement does wonders for the complexion.*
Bruce was staring at them with the expression of a scientist whose understanding of scale had just been fundamentally recalibrated.
"You're saying that somewhere out there, there's a being powerful enough to threaten entire realities, and you're here to stop him," he said quietly. "Using artifacts that predate the universe itself."
"The Infinity Stones," Hermione clarified with academic precision. "Six cosmic artifacts that collectively grant dominion over the fundamental forces of reality. Space, Time, Mind, Soul, Reality, and Power. We currently possess two of them, with four more scattered across the galaxy awaiting collection."
"And this Thanos character wants all six," Natasha observed with professional assessment. "For what purpose?"
"Universal balance through systematic genocide," Luna said with dreamy matter-of-factness that made the concept sound like a gardening technique. "He believes that eliminating half of all life will reduce resource competition and create sustainable prosperity. It's quite romantic, in a psychopathic sort of way."
*Only Luna could make cosmic genocide sound like misguided environmental policy,* Harry thought with fond amusement.
"So essentially," Clint said with the tone of a man whose definition of 'unusual threats' had just expanded significantly, "we're dealing with a cosmic-level Hitler with a environmental engineering degree and universe-destroying weapons."
*That's... actually quite accurate,* Hermione observed with scholarly approval. *Simple, direct, and strategically relevant.*
"Pretty much," Tonks agreed cheerfully. "Except this one's purple, significantly more powerful, and has the attention span to follow through on galactic-scale plans instead of getting distracted by art school rejections."
Thor's expression had grown increasingly grave throughout this explanation, his blue eyes holding the weight of cosmic responsibility and family obligations.
"I have heard whispers of this Thanos across the Nine Realms," he said quietly. "A being of terrible power who commands armies that have laid waste to entire star systems. If what you say is true about the Infinity Stones..."
"It is," Harry said with absolute certainty, his Soul Stone perception confirming the vast cosmic threat represented by the Mad Titan. "Which is why we're here. Death herself has decided that cosmic genocide is bad for business and recruited champions to handle the problem permanently."
Steve leaned forward in his chair with military interest, his tactical mind clearly processing the strategic implications.
"What's your plan?" he asked directly. "How do you stop something like that?"
*Good question,* Daphne thought with aristocratic pragmatism. *We've been rather focused on artifact collection without discussing the specific techniques for cosmic deicide.*
"Collect the remaining Stones before he can get his oversized purple hands on them," Harry said with casual confidence that made universe-threatening tasks sound like grocery shopping. "Use their combined power to either defeat him permanently or convince him that his philosophical approach needs significant revision."
*Preferably defeat him permanently,* Tonks added through the mental link with obvious anticipation. *I'm not really interested in rehabilitation programs for cosmic genociders.*
"The psychological profile suggests that reasoned discussion is unlikely to be effective," Hermione noted with scholarly assessment. "Megalomaniacs of his caliber typically respond only to superior force or complete strategic defeat."
*Plus he's had centuries to develop his worldview,* Susan added with gentle pragmatism. *That level of ideological commitment doesn't yield to logical arguments.*
Tony's expression had shifted from technological frustration to strategic calculation, his genius intellect clearly running scenarios and probability assessments.
"Six cosmic artifacts, one purple megalomaniac, infinite stakes," he summarized with characteristic directness. "Sounds like Tuesday in the superhero business. Though I have to ask—why not just keep the Stones separated? Make it impossible for anyone to collect them all?"
*Because Thanos has resources we haven't fully assessed,* Luna said dreamily, her Time Stone showing her glimpses of potential futures where separated Stones became vulnerabilities rather than advantages. *The threads of destiny suggest that passive defense leads to inevitable defeat. Active offense is our only viable strategy.*
"Plus," Harry added with that devastating grin that made complex tactical decisions look like personal amusement, "we're not just here to prevent him from getting the Stones. We're here to end the threat permanently. Which means we need all six artifacts to ensure we have sufficient power to handle whatever cosmic forces he can bring to bear."
*And to make sure he can never try this again,* Hermione thought with scholarly determination that carried distinctly vengeful undertones.
The Avengers exchanged glances that clearly communicated complex tactical assessments and strategic concerns without requiring verbal communication—the kind of nonverbal coordination that came from extensive combat experience and mutual trust.
"All right," Steve said with military decision-making authority, "that brings us to the obvious question. What do you need from us, and what can we do to help?"
*Practical, direct, focused on actionable outcomes,* Harry observed with genuine respect for the super soldier's leadership capabilities. *I like him.*
"Actually," Tony said with obvious enthusiasm, his entrepreneurial instincts clearly engaging with the strategic possibilities, "I've got a better question. Want to join the Avengers?"
The question hung in the air like smoke from a discharged weapon, and Harry could feel his wives' immediate reactions through their soul-bonds—surprise, interest, amusement, and in Tonks' case, obvious delight at the prospect of official superhero status.
*That's... actually not a terrible idea,* Daphne observed with aristocratic consideration. *Official status would provide operational legitimacy and resource access.*
*Plus it would be rather fun,* Hermione added with uncharacteristic frivolity. *I've always wondered what it would be like to be part of an actual superhero team.*
*As opposed to our usual approach of 'stumble into cosmic threats and hope for the best,'* Susan said with warm amusement.
*Hey, that approach has an excellent success rate,* Harry defended himself with wounded dignity. *We've saved multiple universes using stumbling and hoping.*
*The statistical sample size is admittedly small,* Hermione conceded with scholarly fairness.
Steve was nodding thoughtfully, his tactical mind clearly working through the implications.
"It makes sense from a strategic standpoint," he said with military precision. "Cosmic threats require cosmic responses. Having team members with that level of capability would significantly enhance our operational effectiveness."
*Plus we could teach them about proper magical tactics,* Tonks added with obvious anticipation. *Imagine what these people could accomplish with basic combat magic training.*
"Though there is one issue we should address first," Natasha said with the tone of someone about to point out an uncomfortable truth, "and that's your team name."
*Uh oh,* Harry thought with sudden apprehension.
"The Death Dealers," Clint said with obvious amusement, "sounds like a motorcycle gang with delusions of grandeur. No offense, but if you're going to be official Avengers, you need something with more... I don't know, heroic appeal?"
*Here it comes,* Harry thought with resignation.
"Actually," Hermione said with the tone of someone about to throw a family member under several buses simultaneously, "Harry chose that name entirely on his own. We wanted something more... professional."
*Et tu, Hermione?* Harry thought with wounded betrayal.
"The Death Dealers was all Harry," Daphne added with aristocratic satisfaction, her ice-blue eyes sparkling with obvious amusement at his discomfort. "We suggested alternatives, but he was quite insistent on something 'intimidating and cosmic.'"
*Traitors,* Harry thought with fond exasperation. *My own wives, selling me out to Americans for social approval.*
"We recommended the Infinity Champions," Susan said with gentle reproach directed at her husband's naming choices. "Much more appropriate for cosmic heroes."
"Or the Eternity Corps," Luna added dreamily, though her mental voice carried obvious amusement at Harry's mounting embarrassment. "But he wanted something that sounded more... dramatic."
*I'm surrounded by traitors and social climbers,* Harry observed with wounded dignity. *In my own mental link.*
"The Death Dealers," Tony repeated with obvious delight, "was Harry's idea. And you all told him it was terrible, and he ignored you."
*Why is everyone so entertained by this?* Harry wondered with growing exasperation.
"We did try to explain the branding implications," Tonks said with cheerful lack of loyalty, her violet hair shifting through rainbow colors as she struggled not to laugh openly. "But he was quite convinced it sounded intimidating."
*I am never living this down,* Harry realized with resignation. *This is going to follow me across multiple universes.*
Steve was trying very hard not to smile, though his blue eyes were dancing with amusement.
"So you're saying the cosmic champions of Death herself chose their team name the same way teenage boys choose gamertags?" he asked with barely contained laughter.
*That's... actually quite accurate,* Hermione admitted with scholarly honesty that made Harry want to hide under the furniture.
"It seemed appropriately intimidating at the time," Harry said with what remained of his dignity, which wasn't much. "Death's chosen champions, wielding universe-altering power in service to cosmic balance. The Death Dealers seemed... thematically appropriate."
The Avengers exchanged glances that clearly communicated shared amusement at the revelation that cosmic entities could have the same naming sense as particularly dramatic teenagers.
"Right," Tony said with obvious satisfaction, "first order of business if you join the team—with the new callsigns you chose earlier"
*I like those names,* Daphne said with aristocratic approval. *Much better than letting Harry's dramatic instincts run wild.*
*You know I can hear every thought you're having, right?* Harry asked with wounded dignity.
*We're counting on it, love,* Susan replied with gentle amusement. *Character building through public embarrassment.*
Bruce, who had been quietly observing this byplay with obvious amusement, cleared his throat diplomatically.
"Before we get too far into naming conventions," he said with scientific precision, "shouldn't we actually vote on membership? This is a significant expansion of team capabilities and responsibilities."
*Good point,* Harry thought with relief at the change of subject. *Let's focus on practical matters instead of my allegedly poor naming choices.*
"All in favor of extending Avengers membership to Harry Potter and his associates?" Steve asked with formal military protocol.
Six hands rose immediately—Steve, Tony, Bruce, Natasha, Clint, and Thor all clearly recognizing the strategic value of having cosmic-level allies.
"Unanimous," Tony announced with satisfaction. "Welcome to the Avengers, ladies and gentleman. Try not to accidentally destroy the universe while you're getting used to official superhero status."
*Official superheroes,* Tonks thought with obvious delight. *I wish my parents could hear about this. Their daughter, an official American superhero.*
*We can always talk to Death about organising a meeting with the dearly departed,* Hermione noted with practical concern.
*One cosmic problem at a time, love,* Harry said with fond amusement, feeling genuinely warmed by their acceptance into what was clearly a family as much as a tactical team.
*Though we should probably discuss those individual callsigns before I'm stuck with something embarrassing,* he added with sudden concern.
*Too late,* Daphne observed with aristocratic satisfaction. *I can see the wheels turning in Mr. Stark's head. You're doomed, darling.*
*Completely doomed,* Tony confirmed cheerfully, his mind already running through possibilities with obvious entrepreneurial delight. *This is going to be so much fun.*
Somewhere in the cold dark between stars, Thanos was making plans based on increasingly outdated intelligence. He had no idea that Earth's defenses had just expanded to include six cosmic entities with universe-altering powers, official superhero status, and a genuinely embarrassing team name that they were all eager to forget.
The universe was about to become a much more interesting place.
And in a Manhattan tower, twelve heroes began planning for a war that would determine the fate of reality itself—though they spent an embarrassingly long time discussing whether "The Seidr" was an appropriate superhero name or just another example of Harry's dramatic tendencies.
*It's definitely dramatic,* Hermione observed with scholarly assessment.
*But appropriately intimidating,* Daphne added with aristocratic approval.
*And it sounds better than "The Death Dealer,"* Susan concluded with warm amusement.
Harry Potter, Master of Death, cosmic champion of universal balance, and officially the worst team name creator in multiversal history, could only sigh with fond resignation as his wives and new teammates began planning his heroic rebranding.
*At least they love me,* he thought with philosophical acceptance.
*We do,* came the immediate chorus from five beloved minds. *Even if you have terrible taste in dramatic names.*
*Especially because of that,* Tony added with obvious delight. *Character flaws make for better team dynamics.*
The Avengers had just gained six new members, the universe had gained its first real chance against
---
Hey fellow fanfic enthusiasts!
I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!
If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord (HHHwRsB6wd) server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!
Can't wait to see you there!