chapter 4

"Tony Stark."

"Yes, sir. We just retrieved word from army contacts: Stark and our Harry were picked up about four hours ago, and stepped on a plane almost immediately – Stark's private jet, as is to be expected." Agent Triers turned, shrugging. "I'm just relaying what I received, I don't have to make sense of it. Two months of slouching around Afghanistan, then this."

"So he's with the Tony Stark?" Director Nick Fury shook his head in incredulity. "Well, I suppose when it comes to this sort of thing, I should be expecting the incredible."

"You don't suppose he's got anything to do with Stark's disappearance?" Triers wondered, frowning. "He vanished right around the time that Agent Romanoff started observations, didn't he? From what I understand, Stark was exhausted and had some wounds, but was generally in good health. He was pretty lucky."

"I doubt Mr. Stark would willingly share a ride with his kidnapper, so I doubt that our guy's complicit. At least, not directly." Fury stared at the picture on screen; it showed Harry as he stepped into a helicopter at Stark's urging. "For now, let's not jump to conclusions. It is perfectly possible that these two met by coincidence. Unlikely, but possible."

"Do you want me to have him stopped at the airport? He's currently still in the company of Mr. Stark, so pickup would be easy, there." Triers hands flew across his keyboard as a video feed enlarged to fill up most of the screen: an internal camera on one of the helicopters, pointed inward. Besides a bandaged-up Tony Stark who seemed to be dozing off sat their target, the elusive Harry. Even after several more searches through every database S.H.I.E.L.D. could get its hands on, no matching face had been found, only partial hits, and poor ones at that. Whoever this was – the security footage was the first time that anyone had ever seen him.

"Leave him be, for now. He has a habit of vanishing when someone's following him too closely, so I doubt we'd be able to keep up with him even if we tried. If we're taking him in at all, the assault would need to rely on surprise and right now our target's about as alert as you can get." Fury frowned at the sharp gaze that the man possessed; he was keeping an eye on all the military personnel and the possible exits; a soldier, perhaps? "Try to get another bug on him, a working one this time. I don't want a screw-up again."

"Yes, sir."

Harry had been quite the headache over the last few months: ever since he'd been spotted on security footage from Scotland, he had a constant observer assigned to him and still he managed to slip away from every single one. In Agent Romanoff's case it was perhaps understandable; she needed to keep her distance during the day to avoid raising too much suspicion, and there were some lacunas in observation. Things had only gotten worse after she'd finally been reassigned in the wake of the realization that Harry wasn't interesting in sharing any more than he had.

Seven different agents, all previously stationed in Afghanistan, had been tasked to keep an eye on Harry at all times. They'd all been highly trained and were quite capable and yet they might as well be amateurs to this guy. Several reported that they'd been spotted while undercover or hiding, but there was never a reaction from their target; the mystery man returned to his hotel room and appeared unconcerned by being observed, occasionally letting them know he was still aware of their presence. Fury theorized the man was so casual about it since nobody could manage to even keep up with him; half a dozen times every week he would walk into town and just vanish. He'd turn into a blind alley or an abandoned house, duck behind a wall to tie a shoe and before the assigned S.H.I.E.L.D. agent could get a better view, he'd gone. It was infuriating.

Teleportation: that's what the tech-heads had called the man's ability. They only had a single shot of it, and it was poor in quality and frame-rate, but it was most definitely something they hadn't seen before, and that was a worrisome prospect. Superhuman feats weren't unheard of, but experience had shown that almost every time something like it popped up, someonehad been mucking with the most potentially dangerous of sciences; genetics, proteomics, gamma radiation. Who then was responsible for Harry?

"Call Agents Romanoff and Barton to my office," He said sharply to Triers, straightening his jacket. Triers was one of a handful of people who had first identified the peculiar security footage as a matter that S.H.I.E.L.D. should investigate, which also meant he was now one of the few that was even allowed to know about it. It was lucky in that regard that he'd already had a high security clearance, or he might've ended up locked up. "I want to be kept updated on this – this Tony Stark business."

"Understood, Sir."

"You look... quite uncomfortable."

Harry rolled his eyes, stretching out in his comfortable chair. Unlike the cramped and noisy plane he'd taken to get to Afghanistan, Tony's ride was obscenely luxurious, decked out with televisions and a considerable collection of expensive wines. The chairs were probably real leather and they felt great. Still, even a great seat couldn't erase a day's worth of constantly being ordered back and forth, following the orders of people you didn't even knew. He had seriously been rethinking going with Tony any further when the billionaire finally vouched for him and the incessant requests for documents and explanations halted.

"Unlike you, I've actually consciously experienced the last day," he finally answered, glaring at Tony. "I figured after your three-day nap you'd be done but no, there you went, snoring all the way to Germany. I knew nobody, you must realize. The only reason they'd even let me on the plane in the first place was because someone remembered you'd mentioned me." He shook his head. "It was lucky you woke up before we left, I'd probably have been left in Germany."

"I thought you didn't care where you were going?""Well, sure – but Germany?" Harry pulled a face. "Last time I was there, someone saw fit to try and throw me out a window. I suppose once doesn't make a trend, but I'd like to avoid future defenestration if at all possible."

Tony chuckled, bending over the laptop he'd procured in Germany. Very expensive and very sleek, probably the latest model, though Harry barely knew where the button was to turn it on. He'd never even considered buying one – If they were anything like mobiles, that was probably the safest choice. Harry hoped for Tony that it was water-proof as the man was sloppily sipping from a glass while typing with his other hand. Tony caught his gaze and tapped the screen. "Hope you don't mind me working a little on the side – had some ideas, and they bounce around till I write them down; it's quite aggravating. Ah, the perils of being a genius."

"Well, your ego's in fine working condition, at least," Harry mused. "I was wondering… you seemed pretty close with the guy that picked us up with the helicopters. Road-something?"

Tony nodded, pouring himself another glass. "Rhodey. Well, Lieutenant Colonel James Rhodes if you want to be all accurate about it; we go way back. He's the military's chief liaison with Stark Industries when it comes to weapons, though that's just official business. Mostly I just invite him over for a beer whenever I feel like it."

Harry smiled, thinking of his own best friend and, more recently, co-worker at the Ministry of Magic; looking back on things, he could scarcely imagine himself become an Auror (or working for the Ministry, by the end of his Hogwarts years) but they'd both managed to gain that illustrious profession, and Ron was still active. With Hermione employed by the Department for Law Enforcement as well, they'd had a few remarkable years reforming the entire crime system. Harry thought Hermione probably deserves most of the credit, as she'd actually done the heavy lifting: literally, when it came to her obscenely huge books on Wizarding Law.

Tony closed his laptop, shoving it to one side. "So, I'm curious, how did you find me out there? I checked military satellite images of the cave I thoroughly blew up – you picked me up nearly a hundred miles from that town I woke up in." He leaned over, narrowing his eyes. "Unless you're a remarkably quick jogger with the back muscles of a gorilla, you didn't carry me that distance on foot."

Harry gulped, reaching for a plausible excuse. The first thing that came to the forefront of his mind was that night he'd spent alone under the stars, when he'd been awoken by... well, it was worth a shot, at least. "I had donkeys."

"...Donkeys." Tony just stared for a few moments.

"Pretty quick ones, too. I tied them up near one of those little crevices along the mountains, that's where we were headed." He tried not to blush; he'd never really gotten the hang of straight-faced lying. "It's where I kept the rest of my supplies, too – figured it wouldn't be too smart to take them into the wilderness with me."

Tony looked highly sceptical and Harry had to struggle not to look away. After a few moments the man nodded. "Donkeys it is, then. Perhaps I should consider giving your reward to a few of those noble animals. I suppose it's lucky for them I wasn't still wearing - well…"

"I don't want a reward," Harry answered shortly. He gazed out the window and smiled as he saw the distant ocean; it was easy to forget he was even airborne without the wind rushing through his hair. "I'm already in your plane. I'd think that was enough."

"Perhaps that'd be enough for saving a life, yes, but in this case, we're talking about my life. You'll have to undergo at the very least the tender mercies of my assistant before I let you off the hook for that one." He winked. "She's a bit of a looker, but let's keep that between you and me. Seriously though, Obi will want to thank you, the sentimental old coot."

"Obi?"

"It's short for Obadiah, a bit of a mentor of mine, if you wish. I'll introduce you to him later." Tony turned back to his laptop but stopped. "I wonder if he'll hug me for returning or strangle me for getting caught in the first place."

Harry snorted. "Well, I suppose meeting them will be a refreshing experience: it's been ages since I've had to deal with the 'elite', shall we say. You're definitely not in that category. Old families are the worst; old money, old prejudices. If anything, you'd probably be considered the new kid on the block for some of the people I recall."

"I'm sure it'll be great fun," Tony said with smirk. "Now, there is – one thing you might want to clear up, before we go through all that… who exactly are you? I noticed your little trick with never showing anyone your passport - pretty swift fingers, by the way – and I don't think you've even given me a last name."

Harry sighed; he knew it'd come up eventually. If he'd been on his own, he'd just charm his way past the clerk and move along. He probably couldn't get away with that while surrounded by Muggles. "You're not the first to inquire," Harry answered diplomatically, already preparing with some regrets to obliviate the man again. "If it's a problem, I'll just leave the moment we land, no strings attached."

"No, nothing so drastic." Tony noted with a frown. "I know you saved my life and all, but you're kind of giving me suspicious vibes; just want to make sure we're clear on that." Tony leaned back casually, hardly seeming bothered by the whole affair. "It's not the first time I've brought a person whose name I didn't know and with questionable status as a citizen into my house. Well, I suppose you're a bit different than those girls…"Harry groaned, running a hand through his hair. "I can promise you I'm no threat, but you'd probably doubt that too."

"I think you're too bad at lying to actually cover up any malice," Tony commented idly. He opened his laptop again, glancing at his guest. "Want to help me out with tracing your background? I think it'd go quicker that way."

Harry smiled cheekily. "You know, you're not like I expected. I hadn't really anticipated running into any multi-billionaires so I can't say what exactly I thought they'd be like, though." He looked over his glasses, narrowing his eyes. "You're definitely not it."

Tony shrugged apologetically. "That is probably why I'm not the one running the day-to-day stuff. I like to tinker on things, invent new stuff, live a little. I leave all the boring stuff to other people." He smiled widely as he stretched out in his seat. "It's one of the luxuries of being me. I do what I like and I get paid for it, too!"

Harry snorted. "I know what kind of business you run. I'm not sure if the guy inventing all those missiles and other tools of destruction really should be commended, given what those things are used for; I paid attention, back in Germany. I suppose I can at least give you credit for style."

Tony didn't answer for a while, staring out the window blankly, humming under his breath. Finally he turned with a sigh, eying his drink. "We'll have to discuss that some other time. Meanwhile I'll have to call someone about you. If you want to avoid getting thrown in prison the moment you arrive, you need some kind of I.D. Luckily I know someone who can help with that. Thank me later." Before Harry could ask or even comment, Tony had pulled a sophisticated mobile from his pocket and speed dialed a number. "Yes, Jarvis? Could you – "

Harry sat back, ignoring the one-sided conversation as he thought about his future plans, in as far as he had any immediate ones. He'd taken Tony's offer simply because it was given – it fell into his lap. Soon he'd be on the streets of the U.S.A. – he knew little more than general landmarks, and he wasn't quite sure where the capital was, again. In the Northwest, wasn't it? Well, at least it beat his knowledge of Afghanistan before he'd arrived.

Leaving that nation had been long overdue as it didn't look like Natasha was coming back, and he really had no reason left to stick around. Besides that, if he was correct about the people keeping tabs on him, they'd probably follow him anyway, if they could find him.

"Daydreaming?"

Harry frowned. "Just thinking. I figured after I see the sights and meet the people you'd like me to, I'll need a new destination."

"There's a little more to do in the States than the hole in the ground you just crawled out of," Tony observed dryly. "For one, it has a lot more entertainment, and it's better, too. Trust me, I'd know, I've sampled most of it."

"I don't go to places just for entertainment," Harry protested. "I haven't really been around. I've seen glimpses of different countries, but I've never lived anywhere but back in the UK. Travelling around the world, seeing strange places: I like it, and I'll probably keep it up."

Tony shrugged. "If you enjoyed the hellhole you just came from, I'm sure my abode will be closest to heaven you've ever been."

"I understand that you want surveillance, but I figured that spying on people was more… her territory." He nodded towards Natasha Romanoff who stood beside him.

"Here's why." Fury brought up a video-feed; it showed Tony Stark and Harry in Germany. "Our target is heading towards the U.S. right now, and he's a wildcard. Nobody knows who he is, who he works for, even his name." He tapped on the screen and a large photograph appeared of the man standing soberly at the edge of a dance-floor, his face clearly visible, his hair swept aside just enough to show a thin scar, shaped like a lightning bolt. "What we do know so far is that he's unusual and that means unpredictable. Even assuming he can only use his trick for purposes of escape, we're dealing with someone that no average agent could ever catch. We need a little more."

Barton nodded tiredly. "How do you believe my presence will change matters? I am quite good at doing exactly the things you don't want, here- taking him in or taking him out."

"We're not doing that – yet. Truth is that this target has not shown any hostile intentions to anyone, and we've not been able to tie his presence with any particular events that happened in Afghanistan, aside from his rescue of Mr. Stark. Though we might prefer so, teleportation is not illegal."

"It's not supposed to be real," Barton muttered.

"I've considered the repercussions of what our actions might lead to and concluded the best way forward we have right now is to avoid antagonizing him until we have a better idea of what we're dealing with." Fury grimaced. "One can only imagine what an enemy of ours might do with something as potent as instant transportation."

Barton sighed, glancing at Natasha. "I didn't say I wouldn't take this assignment, but I'd better get a half-decent mission to make up for it afterwards. I'm not much for babysitting."

"You'll do as ordered and nothing less." Fury tapped the screen before him, bringing up the map – at that moment a bright green dot was slowly inching its way across the Atlantic towards the East Coast. "If you can shoot arrows, you can shoot pictures. He's heading for Los Angeles, so that should give you plenty of high ground. Report any and all anomalies immediately. If Harry endangers anyone, you can take him down. I know you have non-lethals in your collection."

"Hmmm," Barton sniffed. "He'll never know what hit him."Fury turned to Natasha, next. "As for you, Agent Romanoff- you'll be working with Miss Hill for the remainder of the month. I've received word of a potential mission that suits your skills, and I'd prefer it if you were at hand when it goes through.

"Yes, sir."

Fury shook his head tiredly as Barton and Romanoff left, gazing at the frozen picture on his screen. He didn't like mysteries, much, that's why he solved the things, and here was a walking one. A living and breathing example of the impossible.

Striding back onto the bridge, Fury focused on the tasks before him; S.H.I.E.L.D. had far more active projects than just the one he'd been looking into, and some of them were nearly as peculiar. There was Banner, for one; he dearly hoped that particular file would remain as dormant as it had been for some time, now.

"Director? I think you might want to see this."

Fury quickly strode over to the balding researcher that had called out. "What is it?"

The man hesitated, glancing nervously at Triers, who was two seats over. "We just got a hit, sir… a bunch of them, actually. Passports, driver's license, even permits for a tanning salon. They just… appeared. Wait – yes, there was another hit just now; something called 'Trembling Th-'"

"Understood." Fury frowned at the screen, noting the forged files popping up one after another; whoever was busy providing their unknown with a backstory was thorough, but probably hadn't counted on the fact that people had already expressed an interest. "Take note: there is a highly capable hacker in league with our Harry. I want their identity traced, right now."

Magic. It had to be.

Harry had noticed the slightly glowing circle under Tony's shirt before – back in the dirty excuse for a hotel they'd been staying at, but he'd identified it as something highly technological and stayed well away from it, given the way things tended to violently stop functioning when he was around them for too long. Yet it wasn't some nifty piece of technology. At the very least, it wasn't just technology.

He couldn't quite pinpoint what had tipped him off; perhaps it was that when he'd passed Tony on the way to the plane's ridiculously luxurious bathroom, the man's laptop had flickered for a split second, while the shining circle had remained a constant. Perhaps it'd been that strange feeling, reminiscent of the tingling he felt when he cast detection charms, which seemed to be constantly present, like a hum on the edge of hearing. Once he'd noticed, he couldn't stop thinking about it.

Everything in this entire world up to now had suggested Muggle. He'd visited every magical site he knew in all of Britain; there was no Diagon Alley, no Burrow, and no Hogwarts: nothing. He'd tried to find magical items as he knew quite a few that had been stored in Muggle museums in his own world and later retrieved by wizards: once more, nothing. The few times he actually found what he was looking for the object in question was decidedly mundane.

Then suddenly there was a little glowing circle of light had thrown that for a loop. There was magic.

Harry shifted in his seat and Tony suddenly jerked upright, blinking furiously. The man turned to Harry lazily, wiping his eyes. "Again? Well, it seems that sleep's becoming a bit of a habit. I should probably wean myself off it again as it is veryunproductive."

Harry smiled, glancing at the object that had caught his attention. "Since you're back with us in the land of the living; I noticed that light display of yours…"

"Ah, that's an Arc Reactor," Tony answered. "This one's my own creation; it got a couple of people real upset, in Germany. Irresponsible witch-doctoring is what they called it, I believe. I don't really care: the thing's saved my life." He tapped it. "I think a few of my competitors would sell their arm and leg to get a hand on this puppy… "

He'd made it? Harry wondered for a moment if he should comment, but finally decided not to, settling for gazing out the window as he pondered this. He'd anticipated magic as he knew it, when he first stepped through: that hadn't panned out. The world being all-Muggle; that made some amount of sense. Magic existing but not being magic? Well, that was just weird. "What does it do?"

"Well… it's a reactor," Tony answered, slowly. At Harry's blank look he rolled his eyes. "Electricity: it generates a lot of it.""Ah, right." Harry shook his head bemusedly; he should've realized that – of course, since he hadn't used electricity in ages, it was easy to forget how Muggle technology really worked. Half the time he was convinced some contraption was just enchanted to do what it did, and he gained some measure of understanding for the likes of Arthur Weasley who hadn't even grown up with Muggle technology. Not that his own meagre knowledge of those days were of any help in modern day, it seemed: Hermione was really the one who kept up with that sort of thing.

Tony gave him a strange look, and then typed something into his computer. "We'll be landing in about an hour. If you want to catch a bit of shut-eye, now's probably the best time to be doing it. I've had enough of it to last me a week."

Harry shrugged, eyes wandering back to the windows; he couldn't quite see the coast yet, but it wouldn't be long now, he suspected. "I thought it was unproductive?"

"You don't seem to care much for productivity, I've noticed."

"Well, it is supposed to be my vacation, you know…" Harry answered with a shrug.

"Ah, how could I have forgotten? You're the person that spends his free time lounging in Afghanistan."

Arriving over land at last, Harry stretched his legs. He wondered idly how long he'd stay around here; he'd never been to the U.S. before, never mind Los Angeles, so he knew little of what to expect. He only really remembered the impressive skyline that he'd seen on the Dursleys' television, the few times he'd actually gotten the chance to watch and that wasn't going to be a lot of help. Nicely decorated as it was, sitting around in a big flying metal box could actually get a bit tedious.

Tony seemed mildly amused at his impatience, straightening the suit and tie that he'd procured in Germany while Harry haphazardly tried to make do with the clothes he had on when they first met (though he'd finally had them washed.) One unfortunate side-effect of having a miniscule pouch with all your stuff was that you could never use it when Muggles were around.

"Well, welcome to a new continent," Tony quipped as the plane touched the ground. "I could really go for a local delicacy right about now, to wash that awful desert flavour out of my mouth... What do you say? Want to get a cheeseburger?"

Harry rolled his eyes. "It's your money."

"Well, yes, but I don't think I'll go broke from getting the munchies." Tony answered airily. It took a few minutes before they'd rolled to a stop and towards a huge hall; a primly-dressed gentleman opened the plane's door and the two quickly stepped past him, heading down the long flexible tunnel that led to the airport proper. "Oh, and Harry…?"

Harry turned to him just as they made their way around the corner and the first flashes started.

"Well, I meant to tell you, what with travelling with me on my plane, that anonymity thing you were so fond of might be a bit of a problem."

Harry groaned as he looked out into the arrival hall: dozens of reporters with photo cameras large and small were aimed at the two of them and a few television cameras. Even if he had the kind of power to obliviate such a crowd (perhaps he could, with the Elder Wand) it was too late now. His face would be on the news.

"…Bollocks."