4 Chapter 4

Coulson walked into the director's office following a polite knock. Fury looked up from the screen he had been looking at. He'd received some information about a possible remnant of Hydra being active in South America. It was word-of-mouth, at best, but he filed the information away for further study later, anyway. It's not the first time he'd received such a report and he doubted it would be the last.

"Coulson. What can you tell me?" he asked focussing his one eye on one of the only people he could truly trust his life with.

"I'm afraid I wasn't able to get much. Our techs are looking over the fried equipment found in his quarters. Most of which we couldn't even find. We know nothing about the technology he's using to disable the bugs." Coulson reported, knowing exactly what Fury was after.

"And has he gotten in contact with his people? I'm still waiting for you to tell me who he works for." Fury said. He was not in the mood for a jurisdictional pissing contest. If foreign powers were on his soil, he needed to know what they knew and then find out how they knew to send an operative at that specific time and to that specific place.

"We've yet to find out how he's contacting whomever he's in contact with. He's assured me that he's been in contact with them, not that we picked up any cellular, radio or other communications signals from his room. He's not even touched the hotel's phone line. Whoever he is, whoever he works for seems to be using some unidentified form of communication we've either not heard of or can't be traced by our means." Coulson reported again. He knew this was only adding to Fury's ire. Shield is supposed to have all the best technology. To have some foreigner waltz in, seemingly better informed with better tech was going to drive Fury up the walls until he gets some solid answers.

Fury's vein started pulsing in his temple as he strained to control his temper. "What information DO you have for me? You don't expect me to believe that we've got nothing and our one lead is claiming diplomatic immunity by means of an unknown agency?!"

"We have had some preliminary reports coming in from the techs at the beach. Apparently they found some residual energy that resembles the energy signature we picked up, close to that patch of melted sand. No markings in the ground this time. It's safe to assume whatever happened, the source was different than the bifrost.

"The melted patch itself seems to have a different signature altogether, however. Whatever happened there, must have been hot and probably loud as I've been informed the glass created shows signs of having been created almost instantly, yet there are no signs of an accelerant on the scene at all. I'm afraid we might have a first contact situation gone wrong, but we have no way of confirming this as there are too many unknown variables. It seems our best and, possibly, only source of information is the man waiting for contact from his superiors at the hotel." Coulson said.

"What can you tell me about him?" Fury asked. "I know you've got a good eye for people. Is he a threat?"

"Whatever training he's had, he must be one of the best I've ever seen. He shows up with no luggage, equipment or weapons that I could see. He's been elusive about specifics, but seems to want to stay on our good side. I don't think he's working against us. He gives me a feeling of being tired above all else. He's quiet and contemplative,his gait reminds me of a deep sea that is co-operative and forthcoming as possible, but can turn into a fierce tsunami in a second. He has not requested us to pick up any of his equipment or luggage…" here Coulson trailed off.

"What?" Fury asked.

"Well, the thing is, when I met him on the beach, he was wearing some kind of leather gear. Presumably protective body armour. Nothing I've seen before, either. He showed up with only that and when I arrived at his door this afternoon he was wearing different clothes. And he had a different jacket just lying on the couch. At the time I had thought he organized a drop-off or something, but thinking about it now, I've received no reports of him leaving his room and nobody entering either. I'm not sure how, but it seems he must have had something delivered by other means. Is it possible someone's been working on something similar to Jane Foster's research?" Coulson asked. If someone else was working on bifrost technology, Fury would certainly know.

At this Fury's eyebrows rose and he got a contemplative look. "It is possible, but unlikely. If they had such capabilities, why leave their agent behind, when they can use it to deliver clothes of all things? Why haven't we detected any other transmissions of the sort? Whoever this 'Harry' is, we cannot afford to lose him. Get in contact with Widow. We might need her to help extract information. Keep her at the ready, but don't send her in just yet."

"Yes, sir." Coulson said. "Oh, he did give me one piece of information. His full name is Harry Potter. The facial recognition is still running and with a name to look for we might just get lucky."

Fury looked at Coulson and replied, "We do not rely on luck at Shield. Get me that information."

"Of course, sir." Coulson replied with his patented blank smile. He then turned and left the office, leaving Fury to contemplate. 'Just you wait Harry Potter, we'll get in your head .' Fury thought.

In a hotel across town, an instrument set up to monitor energy readings from Harry's room from across the road lit up, sending technicians to their feet and agents out the door.

Harry had decided to make a quick trip to the nearest magical enclave that he knew of, all the way on the other side of the country. New York. He had no evidence that everything was the same, but seeing as how he was in Malibu, he thought it likely the layout of the country was the same as where he was from.

He made his way to the bedroom, certain that he was being watched in the other rooms. He made himself invisible, as he had discovered he could do once the Hallows disappeared, having somehow fused with his being. Once he was certain of his destination, and knowing he didn't have a lot of time, he disapparated.

Thankfully arriving at his destination, in an alley across the road from where the American Ministry had been where he was from, he moved to where the secret entrance should have been, between two buildings, where they met. An opening should appear, like Sirius's house had appeared all those years ago. He waited, but nothing happened. Frustrated, he waved his hand, releasing his magic to try and coax out any signs of magic from the location he was sure was supposed to be the entrance.

He felt nothing. Not even the smallest trace of residual magic could be found in the area he was scanning. Not giving up hope yet, he decided to do a larger sweep around him, moving his hand slowly as he turned.

There! He brushed over something. It was feint. The smallest tendril, leading off into the heart of New York. Letting his magic follow the strand he soon felt what might be source. He did not know what it was, but knew there was power there. Confirming that he was still invisible he apparated close to the source of the power. What he found was an old building, three stories high with a large, circular shaped, dome-like window on the front of the building.

As he walked up to the door, intending to inspect the magic for any signs of a trap, it was opened by an elderly fellow in what seemed to be Tibetan Monk robes. Strangely, the man seemed to be looking directly at him. Harry was certain that the apparent monk could not actually see him, but had the feeling he was sensing him using a method other than his eyes.

The man then nodded and took a step back, apparently inviting him inside. With only a moment's hesitation, Harry had moved to and through the doorway in a rush. Feeling a strange sensation pass over him as he moved through a ward of some sort. His senses told him that there was power here, magical power, or at least something very like it. He looked around to the man who had let him in, only to see him walk away, not even looking back. Like he had something else to do.

Unsure if he needed to follow, he dropped the invisibility and started walking in the same direction, when he heard a voice to his left and up the staircase. The one he had barely managed to observe when he first rushed in through the door.

"Traveller, welcome to the Sanctum Sanctorum."