For a moment, Carol had thought that everything had gone perfectly, or nearly so. She had looked from face to hopeful face, each time encouraged that they had been successful. But there was one ace missing, and his was the one that she longed to see the most. "Where's Harry?"
"He's gone." The words, just barely choked out by Natasha before she broke tears, shattered her. "Someone needed to die, in exchange for the stone." She sobbed "And he- he…" Clint was instantly at Nat's side, and she curled into him. It was shocking to see her weep so openly, even for her teammates who had known her longest. "I loved him, Clint." She murmured.
"I know, I know Nat." He said "But we've got the stones. We'll honor his memory by saving everyone."
Stark, Rogers, Thor, Banner, hell, even Nebula were deeply affected, they all mourned. But there was no one to comfort Carol. She didn't have years of trust and friendship built up with these people. She had only become genuinely close to Natasha… and Harry.
Nevertheless, Clint's words had taken root in her mind. She knew what she needed to do.
-----
"Are you sure about this, Danvers?" Rogers asked.
"You all know that I'm the best person to do it." She said "And yes, I'm sure."
Stark had created an Infinity Gauntlet of their own and had painstakingly placed the stones into it. After everything, they were so close. The entire team had gathered, waiting… waiting on her.
From the very start of planning, she had insisted that it be her who wore the gauntlet. Thor had offered himself for the job, and had Harry… been alive, she would have deferred to him. She had logical arguments, of course. She had been empowered by one of the stones, after all, and she was one of the most durable members of the team. But it was far more than that, and everyone knew it. This was her chance, her one chance to make things right, to ease the guilt on her soul. She needed this, and no one had the heart to deny her.
There was one… other reason she wanted the gauntlet. She wanted to try to bring Harry back. She knew it was a longshot, that it seemed like a loophole that the stones wouldn't allow, but she had to try. "Is everyone ready?" She asked.
"Let's lock it down." Stark said. Somehow, she doubted that the metal plating that slid into place around their room would protect anything if things went wrong. She felt a sliver of unease. Even one infinity stone could destroy a planet if misused. It was madness to bring them all together, yet here they were. "Ready when you are."
She cast one last look at Natasha, who nodded in reassurance. Then she turned back to the gauntlet and picked it up. She couldn't fail. She wouldn't. In one swift move, she jammed her hand into the gauntlet, and her world electrified. "FUCK!" She shouted, falling to her knees as unimaginable power coursed through her. It was nearly impossible to focus, but she had to push through. She channeled her power, and her body lit up, but still the energy from the gauntlet ate at her. She needed to do this now.
She dug deep, bringing every last bit of herself to bear. She screamed. Within, her mantra was- bring everyone back. Bring Harry back. Please.
Snap.
------
Harry was not surprised to see her waiting for him. Who else would it be? He remembered her now, their brief confrontation all those years ago. She was exactly as she was back then – skin that was white like bone, a dress that was as dark as the night, sleek black hair and black eyes that seemed to go on forever. She had been terrifying then, but Harry tried to reassure himself that his world- his worlds- were safe. That was what mattered. Whatever horrors awaited him, he would have no choice but to accept, but he could at least take comfort that he had protected the people that he loved.
"Back again." She said "I've been waiting for this. Normally, I'm patient. But you, Harry Potter, have made that difficult." She moved with the grace of an assassin as she approached, and he felt a wave of cold wash over him.
"Well, now you have me." He said. He knew this was true, he had essentially sold his soul to her in exchange for the soul stone, if he had understood the guardian correctly- a soul for a soul. Now she owned him, quite literally.
She continued as if he'd never spoken "I just couldn't stop thinking about you, Harry. Do you know how few people have managed to defy me?" She asked, and Harry wisely recognized the question as rhetorical. "And you did, a mortal man. So, while it's unfortunate that I won't be venturing onto the mortal plane, I suppose I'll take you as a consolation prize."
She touched his shoulder, and his suit turned to ash, sloughing off his body. Harry, shuddered, and not just from the cold touch of her hand. "What do you mean? What do you want from me?" He tried to hold back his fear. There was no point in being afraid. He'd walked into this with clear eyes. But all those rationalizations couldn't stop the bile rising in his throat. He felt horribly exposed, especially as she examined him. She didn't like the way she looked at him, her eyes held a little too much interest, even fascination, for his comfort. "I mean, you're a… what, goddess? Force of nature? What could I possibly give you?"
"Either term is fine." She said "And while its true that I am powerful, and vast beyond what your little mortal mind can comprehend-" She tapped him on the forehead "Its also true that I'm… limited. I can arrange someone's death with a thought, but I must let the deed be done by another's hand. I can weave the greatest artifacts in existence, but I cannot wield them myself. I can see everything, but I cannot touch. I'm privy to people's greatest secrets, but I cannot speak with anyone except when they're on the brink of death. Everyone knows my name, everyone fears me, but no one knows that I exist. No one begs for mercy from me, no one praises me for destroying their enemies, no one thanks me for sparing them and letting them make something of their lives."
In her rage, the scene- King's Cross- melted around them. The ground turned to a rough gravel. They were atop a mountain overlooking a rugged landscape of clips, valleys, and hills. Above Harry was a sky of unfamiliar stars and a nebula that stretched in ghostly strands from horizon to horizon. It cast the landscape in a soft pink light.
It was beautiful.
"What about Hela?" Harry forced himself to ask. "She calls herself the Goddess of Death."
Death took a breath and spoke more calmly "I suppose you're correct. There are few, seldom few who know of my existence. Hela of Asgard is… a disciple of sorts, she can tap into a small portion of my power, but she cannot talk to me directly." She shook her head "You're the second person I've touched in a century. I've never felt a living being die against my hands. I've never laid with a man. I am a shadow."
And he'd effectively trapped her in that living hell. Given how sadistic she seemed… shit. Still, there was one other pressing concern. "Laid with a man?" Harry croaked.
Death smiled. In this darkness, her pale skin seemed luminescent. Her hand trailed down his torso and took his cock. Harry gasped, icy fire spearing through his shaft with a splintering pain. Her fingers stroked him gently, so gently that despite the biting cold there was an awful pleasure to it too. Somehow, his cock grew hard in obedience to the goddess who commanded it. Her fingers released him, and despite himself his cock twitched in the cold air.
"I want everything the world has to offer- the depths of pain and pleasure, the love and the lust, the torment and the grief. Unfortunately, I do not have the world to work with. You will have to take its place. So, what will it be first, Harry. Pain or pleasure?"
Harry wheezed, realizing the full depths of his condition. He was the plaything of a malevolent goddess who was just as eager to torture him as she was to fuck him. That would be his existence, for eternity, and there was no speeding train to throw himself in front of this time. There was no way out, and she was reaching for him again.
"DON'T TOUCH HIM!" His mother's voice screeched "DON'T FUCKING TOUCH HIM EVER AGAIN!"
There she was, Lily Potter in full incandescent fury, and suddenly Harry didn't feel so cold.
"The realm of the dead of sent a representative." Death remarked dully. Lily interposed herself between her and Harry, but Death demonstrated the futility of this gesture by waving a hand through her form. "We cannot interact, sadly, or else I wouldn't be in this position." Lily's glare didn't let up. "Fine." Death said "What is your petition?"
"Release Harry. Either to let him pass on or to return to the physical world." Lily said. "You cannot keep him at the edge of life and death."
"Denied." She smirked "Now go. I need to introduce your son to the remainder of his existence."
"That wasn't a request." Lily spat. "You have no choice."
Death laughed, it was cold and biting "You're ordering me?"
"Not me. This is above your head." Lily held out her hand and produced a small orb. Harry had last seen the like of it when he was fifteen.
Sibyl Trelawney's voice echoed through the wind. 'The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies....'
"Since you refuse to let Harry die, Voldemort has not killed him. Since you refuse to let him live, he cannot kill Voldemort. Not even you can circumvent fate."
There was a moment of silence as Death's face twisted in rage. "FINE!" She spat "I will send you back to your ruined, broken world. Riddle's gone on a bit of a killing spree while you were gone, all the people you love are dead." She said all of this in a rush of fury.
Lily met Harry's eyes. "Fight like hell."
Death swept past her, and Lily's image dissolved into mist. "And don't worry Harry, you will be seeing me again, and when you do, I will claim you. Your soul is still mine." The she surged forward and kissed him like he'd never been kissed before. The force of her presence was immense, and Harry was never more aware of just how far beyond him she was. It felt like he could fall into her depths forever. The world faded away.
-----
The word reformed around him, Harry sucked in a breath feeling new warmth coursing through his limbs. He was laying on a cold tiled floor, the room was cast in a green light, cabinets stocked with time turners lined the walls…
Wait, time turners?
Harry bolted upright, his vision swimming as he steadied himself. He patted himself down, and realized he had been stripped of his clothes, and had nothing at all on him, except for the Invisibility Cloak- he wondered if that was Death's doing. He was in the Time Room of the Department of Mysteries, except the floor in the center of the room had been excavated out, and he was in the center of a red circle inscribed with carefully painted runes. It was blood. Sitting there along with him were a cluster of objects- a locket, a diadem, a… ring…
Fuck.
Harry looked up. Propped up against the wall was Bellatrix Lestrange's corpse, her chest had been ripped open, the front of her robes were caked with blood and gore. And beside her…
It had been a decade since he'd seen Voldemort in person, but throughout the years he'd featured in more than enough nightmares. He was a specter that always haunted him, their confrontation, and indeed the prophecy, had never been resolved, a loose thread that always dangled and occasionally reminded Harry that he had something unfinished. But he was here, now, somehow brought back to this world to decide the prophecy once and for all.
Voldemort was on his knees, panting for breath, in one had was clutched the remains Lestrange's heart, and in the other, he held the Eye of Agamotto. He turned his head up, and met Harry's eyes. "You!" He hissed "What are you doing here?"
Harry was befuddled by the accusation "You were the one who sent me here!" He snapped, hoping that this argument would give him time to think, to come up with a plan.
Voldemort sneered "Apparently. The ritual must have been flawed. I meant only to retrieve my destroyed Horcruxes. Its fitting that your penchant for getting in the way has reasserted itself."
Ah, that explained it. If Riddle had repaired his Horcruxes- with an Infinity Stone no less- it would make sense that he'd get pulled along for the ride. It was hard to think of a worse situation for him to land in, Voldemort had an Infinity Stone and a wand (the Elder Wand, Harry reminded himself). Harry had no magical focus to speak of, which left him with a distinctly limited repertoire. To complicate matters, under no circumstances could all three Deathly Hallows be wielded by one person, the Cloak was on him, and the Resurrection was in the Gaunt ring. Fuck. Two lifetimes of memories were coalescing and reconciling, they both somehow felt fresh and raw. He'd have to have his mental breakdown later, but at the moment Voldemort was still taking him in. Harry didn't have a wand on him, so the archwizard no doubt believed he was helpless. Harry's only advantage, then, was the element of surprise.
Harry cast his Invisibility Cloak aside and clapped both his hands to the ground, pushing his magic through the floor. The stunning spell traveled as glimmering ripple. It would only be noticeable if one knew what they were looking for. The spell collided with an invisible shield, sending it flickering with a faint glow in the air around Voldemort. Shit. Nagini snapped at him, but Harry, running on instincts beaten into him for years by Nat, rolled out of the way and used a banishing charm to blast the snake into the wall. In that time, Voldemort had recovered from his shock and drew his wand from its holster. "Foolish boy! You will get nowhere with schoolyard spells." He spat "Avada Kedavra!"
If Voldemort were hoping for a quick, easy kill, he would be disappointed. Harry levitated the Gaunt ring up to intercept the spell, which when struck tumbled innocuously back to the floor, but his eyes were on the Eye of Agamoto. He needed to get that away from him. Going off of a hunch, he sent a blasting curse, not at Voldemort, but at the cabinet next to him.
The cabinet exploded in a shower of splinters and shards, the time turners withing shattering. His eyes could barely make sense of what was happening, the space the cabinet just occupied was a blur of overlapping and contradictory shapes- an upright cabinet, a shatter cabinet, a pair of unspeakables, a second, different cabinet, a tree, and a pile of sand. For a moment the conflicting possibilities seemed to phase in and out of existence as if struggling with each other for dominance, until they all substantiated at once. This resulted in a massive explosion as far too much material was crammed in a tiny space- chunks of stone, wood, gore, glass, sand, and other debris sprayed outwards.
Voldemort, even with his shield, was thrown back, and the Eye of Agamoto was ripped from his hands. The sudden temporal disturbance seemed to propel the artifact, sending bouncing across the room like a weightless pinball. Nagini made another move against Harry, who neutralized her by sending her to the ceiling and casting a sticking charm. Voldemort surged to his feet, winded by no worse for wear, and sent another killing curse streaked towards him. Harry dove away from the resulting explosion, shielding himself from the shrapnel with one hand while sending a sectumsemprar at Voldemort- just to keep him occupied. His curse ricocheted off of Voldemort's shield, crashing into another cabinet on the far side of the room. Another detonation, and the Eye of Agamotto accelerated, pinging off the walls, floor and ceiling until it struck the Bell Jar of Time. In that bell jar, a hummingbird lived in an endless loop, eternally hatching from its egg, aging, dying, only to hatch again. The Eye of Agamotto pierced the jar, coming to a sudden halt in its center.
Harry would not have time to contemplate this. Voldemort brought the ceiling down on him, and though his combat training again saved him, allowing him to dodge most of the rubble, his leg was nevertheless trapped beneath a small stone chunk. If only he was still wearing one of the suits Tony had designed for him, he would have brushed this off, and hardly would have felt the pain. He didn't have time to levitate the boulder off him. Gritting his teeth through the pain, Harry channeled a blasting curse through the hand that held the Gaunt Ring, crushing the artifact. He let the pulverized material slip through his fingers, revealing the Soul Stone. "Avada Kedavra!" The spell streaked towards him, and Harry held up the stone. The green bolt hung in the air.
Voldemort gaped with an expression of utter horror that Harry would treasure for the rest of his life.
Harry and Thanos had struggled bitterly over their fates in this exact situation, and Thanos had ultimately beaten him, but Voldemort was not Thanos. Harry had matched wills with him at Little Hangleton and won. Harry pushed his magic relentlessly, and the curse jerked backwards towards its caster in sudden lurches. Voldemort's desperation was rising, but there was little he could do- he was alone and facing his death, for surely once he had been disembodied Harry would again dispatch his horcruxes.
Neither wizard paid any mind to the bell jar, where the Eye of Agamotto vibrated erratically. The hummingbird whirled through its lifecycle in reverse, faster and faster, until it was just a blur. The casing around the time stone shattered as the gem broke free, spinning so fast it appeared as a formless orb. Neither did either man act on the discordant shattering sound that gonged beneath them, or how the floor shook in its wake.
Voldemort staggered backwards until he was pressed to the wall, and still the curse pursued him. "No! No! No! NO!" He screamed, knowing that there was no escape for him. The room filled with a high pitched whirring noise, but Harry pressed on, he couldn't let himself be distracted, like he had against Thanos. With a final, herculean push, Voldemort's killing curse struck him, and the Dark Lord's body fell over dead. Harry, panting, levitated the rock off his leg and staggered to his feet. It was then that he realized he still wasn't alone.
"Well, that was entertaining." Hela said, sliding the silvery material of the Invisibility Cloak through her fingers. "But now I'll have to kill you."
Harry reeled in shock "How are you here?"
"One of your kind trapped me here." She sneered "Me. How long has it been, how long have I been away from my people?" She demanded, and how the hell should he know?
"It doesn't matter." She concluded "I'll kill you, claim the Deathly Hallows, and purge your kind from this world." She slipped on the cloak, and it was as if it had been made for her. The material hugged her body seamlessly. Harry sent a flurry of spells where he'd just seen her, but he knew it was futile. Every spell missed, and he saw the faintest ripple out of the corner of his eye that told him of her approach. He pulled up a shield, but Hela's summoned blade cut through it like butter, and then cut through his arm just as easily.
Harry screamed, crumbling to the ground as his severed arm plopped uselessly in front of him, the soul stone still clenched in the fist. Hela appeared again, judging that Harry was no longer a threat and knelt to take the gem.
Harry choked off his screaming, gritting his teeth through the pain and trying to focus. If Hela got the Hallows... Death would have free reign on this world after all. He couldn't let that happen. He remembered his mum's words 'fight like hell'. He remembered how he'd found another option when confronted by Death at King's Cross. At every turn he'd found a way, if not always to win then to survive, to not give up. There was a way, he just needed to find it.
His eyes landed on the bell jar, cracks were spreading out from the whirling mass that was the time stone, then he looked to the shelves of time turners. When in doubt, sow chaos. By the time that Hela had noticed the cavalcade of time turners converging on the bell jar, it was too late.
The hourglasses crumpled into the center, like they were collapsing under the force of intense gravity, but they didn't break so much as phase together. The whirring noise turned into a shrill shriek, and a crack pierced through the room, widening as it went and continuing beyond the walls. It appeared almost like a mirror, except it didn't show a reflection. Opposite the crack, a group of Unspeakables were huddled together in discussion, then they jumped and stared back.
"What have you done?" Hela screeched "You're going to destroy us all!" Another fissure lanced out, imposing a barrier between Harry and Hela. Through it, Harry saw… himself, and Neville and Hermione at fifteen in a battle with death eaters. His breath caught; it had been so long since he'd seen them.
Hermione jumped as she noticed the crack, and peered at him "Harry?" She asked, her voice confused and tentative. Whatever either of them might have said next was drowned out by an awful groaning sound. Another fissure, this time revealing Harry carrying Skye as he took her away from that damned veil. A spiderweb of cracks formed around the room, and he could see a kaleidoscope of images – a starry sky, a rainforest canopy, a smoke choked inferno. Hela had tried to vault over to him, but had been pierced by a newly formed crack. She hung in the air in suspended animation, her mouth frozen open in surprise.
This… might actually be worse than whatever Death had planned for the world. Everything was falling apart, and it seemed like his other world was getting sucked into it too. He needed to stop this.
So Harry did something very reckless. "Accio."
The ball of pure convulsing time tore through the air, leaving a path of broken space in its wake. It collided with Harry's remaining hand, and it burned, like his entire body had been infused with tiny shards of glass. Through the pain, Harry focused on one thing.
Please, put everything together.
The world- everything- imploded inward, all racing towards him too fast for him to comprehend, then everything exploded into light.
-----
The plan had worked. After Carol had snapped her fingers, everything had gone back to as it was before the moment that Thanos had killed half of all life. As far as anyone knew, the snap, and all the grief, trauma, chaos, and destruction that had come with it never happened. The only people who remembered that horrible month of despair were the Avengers.
It was better that way. They'd made an announcement as to how Thanos (who, according to those who had reappeared on Asgard, had vanished in a puff of smoke) had been defeated. Harry had become more than a hero, he was a martyr and a savior. There had been processions for him, lines of weeping mourners left flowers, statues were being commissioned in his honor, tributes of his life played on news programs, streets and schools were being renamed for him, people all over the world honored him. Harry would have hated it- Steve had often thought. He had his pleasures (notably, the carnal ones, his weakness, the Avengers had joked, was a powerful woman) but glory and fame had never been among them.
Now the job was almost done. All that was left was to return the stones, and then… then he'd do what Harry never got the chance to, go home. He was going to go back to Peggy and live a life with her, it'd spare them both the heartbreak of separation. He'd find Bucky and spare him the decades of servitude to Hydra, he'd squash that nascent organization before it could fester inside Shield. He'd try to convince Howard to spend more time with his family. He'd live the life that he never could. He knew that Harry would have considered it a far better tribute to his life than any number of parades, memorials, and statues. He just needed to tie up the loose ends.
Stephen Strange had used the Time Stone to return the other infinity stones to their original, contained states. The Ether was back in Asgard, the Tesseract at Fort Bragg, and after a very awkward encounter with Red Skull, the Soul Stone had been returned to its proper place. He'd just slipped Loki's Staff to the Hydra agents in New York, and now it was time for the Time Stone. This one, at least, would require no subterfuge.
"You've kept your word." The Ancient One said "I assume that you succeeded?"
"Yes." Steve said as he tossed the stone to her. "All according to plan, surprisingly."
"In a hurry?" She accepted the stone, returning it to its place within the amulet.
"Well…" Steve grinned "I have a date."
"I see, well-" Crack!
It sounded like glass shattering, but deeper, more resonant. Steve whirled around and sucked in a breath. A massive rift had opened in the sky, like a jagged maw in space. "Oh dear." The Ancient One said.
"What's happening? Is this because of us?"'
"I'm not sure." She hummed "The timelines are confused. I'll need to-" She activated the Time Stone and descended into a trance. More rifts arced through the sky, with smaller cracks spreading from them in a lattice. By now, even the battle had stopped in its tracks, humans chitauri alike descending into chaos. Steve could only stand, rooted in place. Whatever this was, it was beyond him. Even if he had several Infinity Stones, he didn't even know what was happening, let alone how to fix it.
The Ancient One snapped back to attention. "You need to leave, now!" She said urgently.
"Where, when?" Steve asked, not doubting her for a moment, it looked like the world was falling apart.
"It doesn't matter! Leave!"
"But what's happen-"
"NOW!" She shouted. Steve punched in his next destination and jumped. He descended into the quantum realm, his navigator automatically guiding him through the tunnels and curvature of the world. When he came back up, there was… nothing. He should have been on the planet Morag, where Peter Quill had found the Power Stone, but there was nothing, only weightless, formless blackness. Unease churned in his gut, but Steve punched in another set of coordinates, this time for his starting point- Earth, 2018.
Nothing. There was nothing.
End of Part 1