Author: Black Dragon on the Rocks
Pairing: None so far, mentions of past Harry/Ginny and Steve/Peggy
Summary: Steve never thought being a good samaritan would reveal he had someone to anchor him, give him a purpose, and help him fit in the new world he had to live in. He had a son, a special 7 year old son, who was practically a mini him.
Warnings: NOT SLASH, AU for both Avengers and Harry Potter, Violence, Master of Death Harry, mentions of child abuse, child neglect, and mentions of sexual abuse of a minor (nothing descriptive), Parent Steve, De-Aged Harry, Molly bashing, Ron bashing, Ginny bashing, Magical Steve
Author's Notes: OMG! OMG! I can't believe the response this story had with just one chapter (at ff.net). It was so unexpected! This began as a plot bunny while I was writing The Hidden Life of Steve Rogers, and was a fic which I hesitated to post because it was more of an experiment than anything else. From what I've read so far I think I'm moving into uncharted territory.
The chapter is much longer than the previous one, but it probably won't be the norm. I tend to write in one continuous block of text/dialogues, and breaking it in chapters usually leaves a few longer than others because of the place where I break them.
This chapter is early, because I really was over the moon with the response the first one got. But I probably won't update as often as I do with The Hidden Life of Steve Rogers. I will try though. Unfortunately Real Life is making it difficult to have time to write.
VladimiraSayyidLokidottir (at ff.net): This is set in the two weeks and two days between the time Steve regained consciousness, and the day he goes on board of the helicarrier in the Avengers movies. Once again I'm using the timeline in the Marvel Cinematic Universe which can be found on Wikia for reference.
Silvermane1 (at ff.net): I'm happy to see you here as well, as to your questions, you'll have to wait a bit longer. Don't worry, they will be addressed in future chapters.
Thanks to all who reviewed, you really made this author very happy. Reviews and comments are welcome, since it lets me know how I am doing.
Total Word Count: 4946 (without notes)
Being hit by a small truck hurt, but he had done worse to his body during the war, and even before. He had been beaten by bullies often enough while growing up, but surprisingly nothing was broken this time, and thanks to the serum the bruising was almost gone.
It had been three days since he came across the child. His child. SHIELD doctors had confirmed it. They performed something called a DNA test. Steve had not understood the explanation, but it came to the fact the child was 100% his simply because there was no one else in the world with those genes and the Super Soldier Serum. The boy had both.
It did not matter he had been frozen and lost in the artic when the boy was conceived. Steve was a father, and he had not even gotten laid to produce the kid; which truth be told he would not have minded. The people from SHIELD told him he was in no way responsible for the child, but frankly after they had investigated the boy's practically non existent background Steve decided to take his chances at fatherhood.
There were no birth records, school records, or medical records for the boy. He had simply appeared in the system six months ago when social services had picked him up and sent him into foster care. The child told the social workers his name was Steven, and provided no last name.
The psychologist who evaluated him was sure the kid was lying. More than once they found him reacting to the name Harry, as that was the name of one of the social workers. They also discovered he had a genius level IQ, and while he tried to fool them with what he knew, it was shocking to discover the child was probably as advanced as a High School graduate or perhaps even more.
Social Services sent him to a foster home, and the child had complained he was being abused there as well as starved, but medical checks found no sign of abuse. They now knew why, he healed much faster than any normal person; much like Steve did. By the time the social workers checked on the child any sign of abuse was long gone. The boy had escaped the same foster home at least six times since he was sent there.
The system was not equiped to deal with a child like the one currently unconscious on the bed. Neither was Steve, he was a soldier who grew up without a father or siblings, and frankly he knew nothing about this world after doing a Rip Van Winkle. He had just 'awoken' sixty-six years into the future.
SHIELD (Director Fury actually) promised to help him both adapt to the new world, as well as deal with taking care of his son should he choose to get involved. Which Steve had decided to accept after spending three days, with their respective nights, by the boy's bedside in SHIELD's medical facility.
Steve had taken the time to seriously consider what his actions should be with regards to the boy; and seeing how small and vulnerable he looked, convinced Steve taking in the kid was the right thing to do; even if he was not sure he was ready to be a parent.
He had wanted children, but it was something part of a vague future, for after the war, and if he and Peggy ended together. At the time they had been nothing more than friends, although the intention for more had been there, but his trip into the ice put a stop to them.
The child's injuries had been very serious, and any other would have at the very least ended paralized and with severe brain damage. The Super Soldier Serum had taken care of healing everything while the doctors had kept the child in a coma for three days. They had deemed him healed enough, and the boy should be waking up any minute.
A soft groan alerted him to his… son regaining consciousness. The monitors hooked to him had changed slightly, and while he did not understand exactly how, or what they were monitoring, Steve was told those changes would let him know the boy was conscious. Steve observed him curiously, he was not reacting like he expected a kid to.
The boy did not open his eyes right away, he was clearly assessing his own condition, and then his surroundings. A soldier would act like that, Steve did it practically by instinct, and he had not been a soldier for more than two years. Unlike some of the people he had known before he crashed the plane. He frowned not liking his son's reaction. No child should find himself needing to act in such a way.
The boy's heart monitor started beeping faster, probably when he realized he was in a hospital, but it went back down. The doctor who was in charge of the child raised his eyebrows in shock. Clearly a kid was not supposed to be able to control his reactions like that.
“We know you're awake Steven,” Steve decided it was enough of pretending. The boy opened his vivid emerald green eyes and turned to look at him.
“Steve Rogers died in 1945, and he had no family. So… are you a clone or something?” Harry blurted out, and Older-Harry mentally face palmed and groaned.
Kid-Harry had control, that was just so… fucked up. They were both stubborn as hell being the same person, albeit at different ages, and Kid-Harry was known to out stubborn him on occasion. Though that was probably because Older-Harry was the 'supposedly' mature one, and knew which battles he could win. Unfortunately the kid version of him was not one to relinquish control unless he clearly saw danger.
The Captain America look alike smiled, as did the doctor… Healer. The man was a wizard, Harry could feel his magic. Then he did a double take when he looked at the Captain. Harry could also feel some magic coming from Rogers, which was puzzling. He had done as thorough a research as posible when he found out the man was his biological father. There had never been information about the man being magical at all.
Perhaps the Accidental Magical Shield had not been his doing after all. Harry thought it was, but since he became the Master of Death his magic was not detectable, and if there was a wizard in the room someone had clearly noticed there was magic at work. A shield like the one which protected them was not visible after all.
“Actually I ended frozen when the plane crashed, and the Super Soldier Serum kept me… asleep but alive,” Steve chose to reply. “I was found and rescued from the ice less than a week ago.”
Harry stared at the young man as his mind processed the fact it indeed was the real Steven Grant Rogers sitting there. He could sense Rogers was not lying. His biological father was alive, and to his shock the man was actually younger than he was; well, than Older-Harry should have been.
This year Harry was supposed to turn thirty-two, but he was De-Aged to a seven year old with no way to get back to his rightful age except for growing up again. Harry was so screwed. The potion used to De-Age him was forbidden for a reason. Not that those bastards had cared about the secondary effects, only that it did what they wanted.
“Blimey, and I thought I was Fate's favorite bitch!” He exclaimed, his mouth having run off without engaging with his brain, as was usual for Kid-Harry.
The kid had probably been paying close attention to his rants again. Older-Harry needed to have a few words with the kid about not repeating all he said. The 'Do as I say, and not as I do' had never worked on him when he was growing up; he doubted it would work on his younger self. Older-Harry had to try though.
Kid-Harry's words had shocked both older men, his father in particular. Older-Harry could not blame them, had it been Teddy he would have probably not been happy. He had used a Mouth Soaping Spell on his godson for less than that.
Harry had not been one for much swearing, lately though his vocabulary left much to be desired. But really, if they knew all that had happened to him in his life they might actually agree with him.
“Must run in the family or something,” Kid-Harry said still running at the mouth. Older-Harry mentally sighed, there was no stopping the kid now, he was on a roll. “It must have sucked big time to find yourself sixty-six years in the future. I'd have probably freaked out.”
“If I used such language at your age my Ma would have chewed me out, washed my mouth with soap, and tanned my hide,” Steve reprimanded the kid, who shrugged.
“I've had worse from the relatives who raised me just for breathing, and from the bloody bastards social services left me with, so a hide tanning and a mouthful of soap aren't going to kill me,” he told them non plussed. Older-Harry had dealt with the abuse he suffered in his childhood, and it had helped the younger one immensely.
“You know it's not your fault, don't you child? That it is the adults who did wrong, and that there are laws to protect you now?” The Healer told him while his biological father stared sadly and rather angry, as well as surprised at hearing there were laws now to protect children from abusive adults. Harry supposed there had not been any back in his days. “We need their names so they can pay for hurting you.”
“Yeah, I know,” he said with a shrug. “My relatives are dead, they crashed.” It was easier to explain it that way than saying both died a few years ago. Longer than he was supposed to be alive. “My Mum and my adoptive Dad died when I was one, they crashed too. That's why I ended with the psychos in the first place.
“As to the foster home, well you already know my name is Steven, so you know where I was sent to. Are you going to do something about the other kids there because some have been there longer than me, and had it worse than I did?” He wanted to help the children living with those monsters, who made the Dursley seem normal.
“Those people will be arrested,” the Healer reassured him, “the authorities are now gathering evidence against them. So they should be brought up on charges soon.”
“Good,” Harry said with a nod and sounding pleased. Hopefully those kids would have better luck than he did.
“Now, we know your name is not Steven, at least not your first name. You are a clever boy, and for someone your age you did a good job, but you slipped.” The Healer pointed out.
“Hmm… Really?” Mentally Older-Harry sighed, while Kid-Harry began to get nervous.
Kid-Harry probably did slip. He had been kidnapped, been turned into a kid, found out there were now two of them living in the same scrawny body, and on top of everything they had been molested by the psycho bitch (Ginevra Weasley). The icing on the cake came when he realized the Glamours his mother cast to hide his true parentage had started to fade.
Kreacher rescued him at a great cost to the ancient house-elf, he died leaving Harry alone in another country and in the mundane world. Kreacher left him alone as well as at the mercy of social services, although both Harrys agreed it was probably not what the ancient house-elf intended.
At the time they were also dealing with a way for an older and younger version of him to co-exist in the same mind and body, without going insane, or murdering each other. So it had not been the best scenario for a flawless performance.
“Really Harry,” the doctor said and Kid-Harry could not help the fear in his expression, even if it was only a moment before he hid it. He had experience from dealing with the Dursley.
|Calm down kid, panicking won't help us.| Older-Harry soothed giving his younger self a hug. They shared a mental plane where they could both be together. Odd as it was, he was parenting himself.
Harry had some parenting experience with Teddy, before Andromeda decided to move away from the British Wizarding World. Andromeda Black and her grandchild moved to an English speaking Wizarding town in Canada. Neither of them had been safe in the British Wizarding World because of him, and her family's reputation.
Teddy was Voldemort's Vanquisher's Godchild after all, and the son of a known werewolf (even if he did not have the Lycanthropy). To make things worse Andromeda looked too much like her sister Bellatrix, and more than half the British Wizarding World hated the psycho witch.
Andromeda never told him where the town they moved to was located, and as much as it hurt him, Older-Harry respected her choice. They were be safer without him, and away from the British Wizarding World.
|But what if they send us back to the British Wizarding World? To… to… THEM!| Harry shuddered starting to feel terrified. |I don't want HER to do that to us again, or for her to make us… Do things…| He shuddered again, and the men noticed.
|They won't send us back. Our father is alive, and even if he does not take us, he won't let them harm us if we ask for help. He was known for doing the right thing, and protecting people. I guess that's where we get the 'saving-people-thing' that has come to drive me nuts.|
“My name is Steven, not Harry,” the boy stated firmly not listening to Old-Harry. The older one sighed, nothing unusual there.
“Why are you afraid of using your real name Harry?” Steve asked. He had noticed the kid was really terrified, but hid it well. “You said your relatives are dead.”
“They are, and I'm not afraid.” But his voice betrayed him, as did the light tremors running down his body. He did not want the red headed psycho fan girl to find them, and her back stabbing, child beating brother.
“Then why don't you tell us your full name to begin with? You're old enough to know it.” The Healer insisted.
Older-Harry debated whether to tell the men his real name, or another one. Calling himself Steven Granger to honour his best friend and sister in all but blood would be a good option… If he chose to go that route, which Kid-Harry seemed to believe was the best chance they had. Henry was not so sure, too many things could go wrong when using too many lies.
He could honor Hermione in other ways. By studying hard and excelling at what he did. She had always believed in him; she was also the only one who knew he was smarter than he let on. Hermione had helped him keep up with his muggle education, and to hide his intelligence at Hogwarts. No one expected, or wanted, Harry to be smart. Specially not Dumbledore.
She had been the first victim of the unholy trio (as he called those three traitorous Weasleys) seven years ago. Hermione had been the kind of wife Molly wanted for her youngest son. She convinced Ron the bushy haired witch would make a great Weasley, it did not hurt that Hermione actually grew into a beautiful woman.
The Weasley matriarch had wanted powerful, smart grandchildren, and new muggle born blood, specially Hermione's, would provide the family with them. His bushy haired sister was not only very intelligent, she was also one very powerful witch.
Amortencia was used to get his sister to marry Ron, and her life was lost the moment the ceremony ended. Hermione's body had died giving birth to her second son, after she had lost six. The bastard practically kept her pregnant all the time, he did not give her body a chance to fully recover from all the miscarriages.
Hermione's spirit had died a few years before that, victim of her husband's narrow mind, misogynistic tendencies, greed, and jealousy. Bloody Ronald Weasley was an abusive bastard who hated his wife was smarter, and his best mate was richer than him.
|Let me take over Harry.| In their shared mind the younger responded to Harry, and the Older to Henry. It was their real name after all. |I think I can get us some help and protection. Besides, you know we can get access to our vaults without those traitorous Weasels finding out we have a guardian.|
|OK, but… What if they do not believe us?| Kid-Harry had no experience with adults being helpful. In his young life, adults tended to ignore him at best, and hurt him at worst.
|Then we leave. No Wards can stop the Master of Death, you know that. Life on the streets until we're eighteen is not an apealing prospect. I want a better life for you, but we'll make do if we have to go that route.| Harry agreed, and let him take over.
The first thing Henry did as soon as he had control of the body was to magically check the room for bugs. There were several, mics and cameras, which he disabled. He was surprised to notice Rogers, his father, had sensed the use of magic, but not the Healer; and the man was a fairly powerful wizard.
“The problem is not whether I am old enough to know it or not. The problem is whether I can trust you not to reveal it without my approval and consent. I rather the Wizarding World did not find out about what happened to me just yet… or at all. Will you give me a Wand Oath on your magic Healer?”
“Just me?” The Healer had narrowed his eyes suspiciously, why not the captain? “How did you know I was a wizard anyway.”
“Yes, just you for the time being. Captain Rogers is indeed my blood, and I will go off on a limb and trust him for the moment. As to the magical part, I can sense it.” The other wizard gasped.
Being able to sense who had magic, and who did not was a very rare and sought after talent. Less than 1% of the world's magical humans were capable of it. The talent came paired with the added ability to see and detect magic on everything else, which was why those who had it had to be registered. It was too easy for them to go around Warded areas. The best Curse Breakers and Warders of the world had the second ability as it was not as rare as sensing who had magical cores, and who did not, as well as their power levels.
The Healer froze, clearly thinking hard, and recognition flooded his mind. There were only very few known witches and wizards capable of sensing who was magical around the globe, and only one, Harry James Potter, was unaccounted for.
Harry sighed, so much for keeping his disappearance from the British Wizarding World a secret. The Weasels had probably demanded Kingsley start a world wide search for him pretending to be concerned for his well being.
With Hermione long gone, there was no one to remind the imbecilic sheep he had not been on good terms with the Weasleys since long before Hermione's death. Unfortunately those three had still been reaping the benefits and fame of being close to him during his school years. More than anything his real looks would be what protected him the most, as well as remaining in the non-magical world.
“Harry James Potter, the-boy-who-lived and Voldemort's-Vanquisher. The whole world is looking for you. Your closest friends are very worried,” the Healer told him.
“Well, they can keep looking, because I'm not going back, and those back stabbing, traitorous thieves have not been my friends for over seven years,” Henry practically growled. “Oath now, or Obliviation Healer. Let me assure you my magic is as strong as it was before I ended this tiny, and I don't need a wand to use it.”
“What is going on? Why are you so suddenly speaking like an adult and not a child?” Steve was beyond confused and concerned about how defensive his kid was, as well as the change in demeanour and attitude.
As to the magic, well he knew about it since his war, so it was not really a surprise. Steve felt magic being cast moments before the boy started speaking like an adult. It was something he could sense since he was a kid. The serum had amplified that sensitivity.
Then during the war he had worked with wizards, and a young one named Charlus Ignatius Potter had even been a member of the Howling Commandos, albeit one who never was mentioned on official channels.
Some of HYDRA's facilities had been heavily Warded, and Charlus (he had been barely nineteen then) was an incredibly talented Ward Breaker, who had also adapted easily to work with non magical weapons. His membership had been kept secret because they could not reveal magic to the masses, or even some of the higher ups. Few had had clearance enough to know about the Wizarding World.
He had told no one about his sensitivity to magic, but Charlus had noticed. Steve was actually better at sensing Warded areas than Charlus was. The young wizard theorized Steve was probably a Squib, or decended from Squibs and had not been told by his mother.
In Ireland (where his parents were born and raised), and the United Kingdom, those born without magic were shunned at best, and killed at worst. Many had migrated to America since it was not as bad, but neither was it all good for Squibs at the time.
“You're not surprised about the magic then? Just why I'm no longer acting like a kid?” Henry was surprised. He thought he would have to explain magic to his biological father, and was glad he did not have to. He was never good at it.
“One of my Commandos was a British wizard who operated in the background, so I'm well aware of the Wizarding World,” Steve explained.
The Healer looked at him shocked, and the boy seemed surprised, but not overly so. The Healer did have reason to be shocked since they (meaning SHIELD) had omitted mentioning magic had been at play. Steve had known though, but said nothing because of the International Statute of Secrecy, and the Oaths he swore when he was informed of the existence of witches and wizards. Besides, he had sensed magic had been used before the small truck hit them. He knew some kind of shield had protected them from the small truck and the fall.
“As to your behavior, I do deserve an explanation. I just found out I'm a parent, of a child who clearly is not truly one. So Healer Yates, please make the Wand Oath.” It was an order, even if it was not phrased like one.
“I, Kevin Yates, do swear on my magic to keep what Harry…” the Healer began.
Kevin Yates knew, as well as the rest of the Wizarding World, just how powerful Harry Potter was. He had been one of the best Aurors the British Magical Law Enforcement Department had for a short time, then he became a Technomancer of reknown, and a recluse. But several idiots through the years had learnt the hard way not to wake the sleeping dragon Harry James Potter had become.
“It's Henry actually,” he corrected. Healer Yates began again and gave him the Wand Oath. Satisfied Harry spoke. “Have you heard of the potion known as Melchiades Youth Elixir?” The Healer gasped, but his father only looked clueless. The potion was relatively new, so there was no chance his father knew about it.
“The potion De-Ages the subject to a specified age. It was created with the intention to help patients of severe emotional trauma to relive their lives. Unfortunately there are terrible side effects which made it unusable. One of them is acute schizophrenia…” he began. The man-child before him should have been acting like a raving lunatic.
“Yes, the potion does De-Age the victim physically, and the mental age is reduced in accordance to the body,” Henry began in what Hermione had once called his lecture tone. “What no one has noticed is that in actuality the potion creates two mental versions of the patient, or victim depending on how it is used. A child one, and an adult one.
“What people believe is schizophrenia, is actually the two versions trying to co-exist in the same body and mind, which is very difficult without proper training. I am a master of the Mind Arts, and Occlumency in particular.” He had learnt them, and potions, as his way to honor Snape. “It helped me to work on a balance and protect my younger self from memories that would harm him.
“My childhood was not a good one to begin with. I fought in a terrible war in the British Wizarding World from age eleven to seventeen, and was an Auror for a short while. I have seen death, and killed as well. Those are not things a little boy of seven should experience, so I keep the memories locked to protect Harry, to give us both a better childhood.
“I am also a Potions Master and know better than most there is no way to counter this potion's effects. It is because of this I have accepted to let my younger self be the dominant personality, to let him be the child I was not allowed to be. For this reason I only come out when our safety is threatened.”
“So you are in danger at the moment,” Steve asked, his voice filled with concern. He could not wrap his mind about the fact his son was mistreated as a child, or a boy had been allowed to fight in a war.
“Yes, I fear for our life. This is why we were in the non-magical world. Those people who pretend to be my closest friends and family, are actually the ones who kidnapped me and gave me the potion.
“There are archaic laws in the British Wizarding World, which would allow these people full control of me, and in consequence my money. I had no living relatives that I knew of who could challenge their claim to me.”
“I take it then that you are quite wealthy,” Steve deducted, “these people… De-Aged?” he asked for confirmation and got a nod from both wizards, “you just for money?”
“Mostly,” Henry confirmed, “while I have tried to maintain a neutral political position in our government, the fact is my name still carries a lot of weight, and I inherited several seats in the Wizengamot… they are a bit like your congress,” he explained.
“There's also the fact one of them is an obsessive fan girl, who just wants to marry the-boy-who-lived and Voldemort's Vanquisher no matter what age. She's… a sick peadophile,” he shuddered. “To make matters worse, I still have enemies dating as far back as the war.”
“You no longer look like you did Mister Potter, far from it actually,” Yates pointed out. Only the emerald green eyes remained the same, and even their shape was slightly different. “No one who knew you, or has seen photos of you can connect Voldemort's Vanquisher with the boy you are now.”
Yates filed into his mind the now child had been molested. They would need to find a way to bring the witch to justice. Magicals considered that type of abuse an abomination, as did most mundanes. The Healer also noted Captain Rogers did not react to the word, the man probably did not know what it meant, and he would inform him once he had some time alone with the Captain.
“Your changed looks, and even your De-Aging are to your advantage, and I am sure Director Fury can add to your protection. But care to explain why you have Captain Rogers DNA?”
“IVF, plain and simple,” was his response.
Henry went on to explain about his great grandmother, Margaret Carter, someone he could see his father had cared very much about, probably even loved. Captain Rogers was not very happy to discover someone from the Strategic Scientific Reserve had dared to take samples from him without his consent. Ones that he would have actually never agreed to give in the first place.
Steve was grateful Peggy Carter had stolen them, and his anger at them being used abated. He could not blame her for wanting something of him to remain in the world, he would have probably done the same in her place. Steve also did not object the use she made of his samples. Peggy had been doing a good deed, she had known any resulting child would have been loved by her granddaughter, and not turned into a soldier or lab rat.
Lately I got into a binge of reading Avengers, Captain America, Harry Potter, and Crossovers of either of them (but none including any other fandom like X-Men, Deadpool, or Supernatural because I know nothing about them). I noticed there were none exploring the concept of a magical Steve, or any other Avenger for that matter. This was when a HUGE and rabid Plot Bunny bit me, and would not let go.
I know there are at least a couple (I think) of The Avengers transplanted to Hogwarts, but this was not what I have in mind. I'm thinking of moving magic to the MCU; I hope the idea makes you all curious and you stick around to find how I plan to handle it.