Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

“Well, well, well, look what we have here. It's Kahlen Potter. She's all bright, and shiny, and new again, just in time for the Dark Lord.”

“Your parents were meddlesome fools too. Mark my words, Potter. One day soon... you are going to meet the same sticky end.”

“Kahlen Potter. The Girl Who Lived… come to die.”

Kahlen shot up in her bed. The hissed words were echoing in her head and grabbing hold of her mind, choking her, making it impossible to breathe. When she finally managed to gasp enough air to recognize where she was, she sighed, swinging her legs over the edge of the bed and placing her feet into her charmed slippers. The immediate warmth radiating up her body helped a little, but not enough. Never enough.

Shaking the last of the whispers from her thoughts, Kahlen glanced at the clock. Her eyes widened. She sprang from her bed, skidding around the corner to her closet to throw on the first outfit she saw. With the simple blue dress barely over her frame, she gave her long black hair a quick brush and apparated to the door of the Leaky Cauldron.

Before entering, Kahlen cast a glamouring charm over her scars, attempting to forgo any recognition. Since the Battle of Hogwarts took place only a month prior her celebrity status wasn’t wearing off any time soon, so she opted to hide from prying eyes as often as she could, covering her biggest identifier from all but those who truly looked.

As she walked briskly down the streets of Diagon Alley, she watched three children chasing each other around the fountain with sticks in place of the wands they so anxiously awaited. The littlest one, a girl no older than six, slipped on one of the puddles her elder brothers made, scraping her knee on the aged stones. At the sound of her cries, the little witch's parents ran over to her, enveloped her in a hug, and healed the injury. The scrape was gone before it could even start bleeding. Kahlen wondered if that was what her life could have been like. Running carefree through the streets of the magical town with parents right behind her to heal any cuts or bruises she got along the way. Never worrying about burning breakfast or leaving behind a spec of dust, nor the beatings that followed. Pushing the thoughts out of her head, Kahlen walked into the little cafe and spotted Hermione at their table by the window, already sipping tea with a newspaper in her hand and biscuits on the table.

“Hey, sorry I’m late,” Kahlen huffed, still trying to catch her breath. Hermione glanced up from the Daily Prophet before returning to her reading. “Oh come on, you’re not mad at me, are you ‘Mione? It was only a few minutes!”

Hermione sighed, lowering the paper. “This is only the fourth Friday lunch we’ve had, and yet, I don’t see you ever being on time.” She smirked over her teacup as she took a long, loud sip.

“You roomed with me for six years, I would hope you know me well enough to understand that punctuality has never, and will never be my strongest asset,” Kahlen deadpanned, eliciting a laugh from Hermione.

While Kahlen’s tea was being steeped, she asked, “How’s Ron? I haven’t seen him for almost two weeks, and he barely returns my calls anymore.” She said it with a chuckle, but she was worried. Ron was one of her best friends, she wanted to make sure she hadn’t done anything to upset him.

“Ron’s just busy,” Hermione responded, removing the weight that had rested on Kahlen’s shoulders. “Kingsley’s got him in full time Auror training, he hardly has time for anyone, myself included. I mean, honestly, what’s the point of living together if we’re never really together?”

“‘Mione, I love you, and I love Ron, and I am happier than anyone that he finally wisened up and asked you out, but I do not need the details of what you two do behind closed doors.” Kahlen gagged as she watched Hermione’s face redden.

“Kahlen!” She exclaimed, “That is obviously not what I meant, you wicked girl.” Kahlen just snickered. “I just mean that Ronald is often tired when he returns from the Ministry, he doesn’t have the energy for-”

“Sex?”

“Kahlen!”

“Relax, Hermione, I’m just pulling your leg.” Hermione’s scowl slowly dissipated, leaving behind a slightly amused smile. “Seriously though, is everything going well with you two?”

Hermione’s smile widened. “Everything is splendid. Better than I had thought, really, given the silly squabbles we were prone to at school.”

“You don’t fight anymore? Like, at all? That seems entirely impossible to me.”

“Oh no, we fight. Only now, we have a much simpler way of resolving things.” Hermione’s wink and satisfied grin said everything she didn’t, prompting a more real gag from Kahlen which evolved into a laugh. A few moments of silence passed between the two before Hermione warily spoke. “Seriously Kallie, how are you doing? I know it can’t be easy, living alone so soon after… everything. Why don’t you just stay with Ron and I for a few weeks? We have plenty of room. It can be just like old times, we can-”

Kahlen cut her off, having heard this particular speech several times in the past four weeks. “Thanks ‘Mione, really, but I need to be alone for a bit. And I want you and Ron to have this time to yourselves. I’m not the only one who’s suffered from the war.”

“No, but you’ve suffered more than most. We’re just worried about you,” Hermione said, reaching her hand across the table to gently hold one of Kahlen’s, bringing a smile to her face.

“I know. And I love you for it,” Kahlen told her, squeezing her hand back. “But I’m really ok. I’ll try to come by more often, I promise.” Hermione gave her a sceptical look, then gave in, nodding her head. It wasn’t a perfect solution, didn’t put her mind completely at ease, but it would do, for now.

An hour later, both girls were full of tea and caught up on the other's adventures throughout the week. They sat in silence, enjoying each other's company and watching the three siblings from the window, where they continued to run and laugh, splashing water in each others faces.

Neither spoke, but both the women were thinking the same thing: how lucky these children were, to grow up in a time where they can be accepted no matter their lineage, where they can live with little fear of persecution. Where they can laugh and play, and enjoy being children for as long as they can, a luxury the older witches hadn’t gotten.

The young ones in the courtyard reminded Kahlen of one of the only good things to come from the war. She turned from the window, facing Hermione, watching her adoring face as it followed the kids for a few moments before interrupting her thoughts.

“I think it’s time I visit my godson.”

— — —

Kahlen apparated to Lupin Cottage, just outside the edge of the spelled barrier she helped create.

Remus and Tonks had tried to reenter the war after Teddy was born, but everyone had insisted they lay low with their son and keep him and themselves safe. Kahlen had threatened to send them to another continent, so they gave in, allowing her to add protective wards to their obscure property.

When they heard about the Battle of Hogwarts they were furious to have been left out of it—Tonks’ hair had been ruby red for a week—but Kahlen was forgiven pretty quickly. After all, it’s hard to stay mad at a girl who died and came back to life.

Kahlen climbed the worn stone steps to the door, banging the brass knocker against the old wood, and heard a shouted reply of, “It’s open!” from within. She pushed the door open, gently closing it behind her and making her way through the front hall.

She walked by several paintings of Lupin ancestors, frowning as she passed Remus’s father. The man had always irked Kahlen, his ignorance towards his son’s condition inexcusable as the one who had caused it. Lyall Lupin worked at the Ministry, tasked with controlling ‘dark’ creatures, such as vampires and werewolves. His work attracted the attention of Fenrir Greyback—a werewolf notorious for spreading the disease and amassing a large pack—Greyback sought revenge for his felled pack-mates and targeted Remus, infecting him when he was just a boy. Lyall turned his back on his son, and Kahlen had never forgiven him for it. The only decent thing the man had done for Remus was giving him Lupin Cottage, though he surely wouldn’t have had he not had a larger residence in London.

Kahlen stepped into the small kitchen, taking in the scene before her. Tonks and Teddy were sitting on the carpet of their living room, Teddy clutching a toy wand which he waved around. Every swish of the piece of wood had Tonks changing her hair a new colour, sending the little boy into a fit of giggles. Remus watched his mate and son play, preparing a tea set with a huge grin on his face as he turned to see Kahlen in the doorway.

“Kahlen,” he said, setting the tea kettle off the burner and making his way over to hug her. “It’s great to see you. Care for a cup?”

“No thanks Moony.” Kahlen had taken to calling the man by his marauder name after she learned his true identity. It never failed to bring a smile to his face, which it did now. “I’ve just had lunch with ‘Mione. Can’t say I’m already needing another. How are you? How’s my perfect little godson?”

“Too perfect, I’m afraid,” he told her with a grin, turning back to see the blue-haired boy. “Hardly five months old and already crawling, grabbing and laughing like you wouldn’t believe.”

“Isn’t that really early for a baby?” The concern was evident in her voice, fearing anything being wrong with the laughing boy in the next room.

Remus was quick to set her mind at ease. “A little,” he said with a chuckle. “We think it’s a combination of the werewolf and metamorphmagus in him. It’s nothing to be worried about, the paediatrician said some children just pick things up better.”

The two of them made their way to the living room. As they came into view Teddy spotted Kahlen and squealed, making grabby hands at her. Kahlen, of course, complied, picking up her godson and swinging him around, earning another little squeal and a round of giggling. Settling the child on her hip, Kahlen turned her attention to Tonks who was now standing and kissing her boyfriend.

“Not in front of the child,” she gasped, fixing them with a fake glare, no heat behind it. “His eyes are too innocent for this kind of display! How could you expose him to this level of crass PDA? Oh, the horror–”

“Shut up, Kahlen.” Tonks made her way over to the girl with a laugh, but turned around to shamelessly stare at Remus, licking her lips and bringing a deep blush to his cheeks.

“Ok gross. Seriously, there is a child in the room.”

Tonks laughed once again and hugged Kahlen, who responded with one arm, her other still occupied with her child. The four of them made their way to the back patio, the tea set up for the couple while Kahlen played with the baby, all making small talk and enjoying each other's company.

“So,” Kahlen started, “when do you plan to tie the knot? Surely you don’t plan to live in sin forever.” She grinned, but it turned to a frown as she watched both Remus and Tonks avoid her gaze, disappointment and anger written all over their faces. “What? What is it, what’s happened?” The couple shared a look, Remus giving his head a little shake and Tonks responding with a nod as she stood, gently taking Teddy from Kahlen’s arms and mumbling something about milk. “Moony?”

Remus sighed, then met her eyes. “We can’t get married.” Kahlen’s look of confusion and accompanying silence forced the man to continue. “The Ministry,” he said bitterly, the anger building as he spoke, “seems to believe that werewolves are so subhuman that they don’t deserve basic rights. As such, I am unable to marry my mate, the woman of my dreams, without risking myself or even her being arrested for breaking the law.”

Silence settled over them as his words sunk in. The more she understood what he was saying, the angrier Kahlen got, her eyes starting to glow white and hair starting to crackle with energy as she slowly lost control of her magic and let the anger consume her. Just before she let the energy go she heard a little cry emanating from the house, bringing her back to herself.

“What can I do?” Her voice was dangerously calm, her magic held in with great difficulty.

Remus sighed. “There’s nothing to do, Kallie. The Wizengamot makes the laws and we follow them. No one cares about how unfair they are to werewolves.” With no visible way to fight he had given up hope.

“I refuse to believe that,” Kahlen said. She shoved her chair back and stood, pacing around the little verandah as she tried to think of a solution. Suddenly, like a strike of lightning, it hit her, halting her where she stood. “You said the Wizengamot made this law?”

“This and every other law.” He nodded, confusion marred his features as she started to smile.

Kahlen turned to face him, placing her palms on the table with a conspiratorial grin. “Well then,” she said, her tone nearing smug, “I think the Potter seat has been vacant long enough.”

— — —

The Ministry of Magic was just as opulent and useless as she remembered.

As she waited in line to speak to one of the minister’s receptionists, Kahlen watched people bustling about, carrying paperwork and chatting with coworkers. She couldn’t help but scoff, imagining how proud they must be of their government, how blissfully unaware most of them are to the world outside these walls that suffers while they ignore the cries for change.

Thankfully, change may actually be on the table. With Voldemort defeated, the people needed a new Minister for Magic, one that was strong and had their best interests in mind.

“Miss Potter,” Kingsley called from the door of his office. “Come on in.”

Kahlen looked up and followed him into the room, sitting at the chair across the table from him. When both had settled, Kingsley offered her a diplomatic smile.

“What can I do for you Miss Potter?”

“Kings, we’ve known each other for years, you’ve saved my life, I’ve saved yours a few times. How many more times do I have to ask you to call me Kahlen?” She grinned, bringing a genuine smile to his face.

“Sorry, old habits die hard I guess,” he replied. “What can I do for you, Kahlen?”

“Well, Minister Shacklebolt,” she said, her voice full of false importance but her smile still making its way through, “I would like to take my seat on the Wizengamot.” Kingsley’s smile started to fall.

“‘Seat’? Singular? Don’t you want both?”

“I have two?”

“Of course. You have the Potter seat from your parents, and the Black seat, left to you by Sirius.”

Kahlen was shocked. Sirius had left her everything, of course. As his goddaughter she inherited his money, his estates, everything of value that belonged to him, but how did that translate into her having a claim on the Black seat on the Wizengamot?

“Pardon?” She asked, still unable to gain her composure.

“Do you know much about magical bonds?” She shook her head. “There are a few kinds, for example, the bond between a werewolf and their mate. The most common type of bond is the familial bond, between a witch or wizard and their family members. Parents, siblings, spouses, children, and in some cases… godparents,” Kingsley said, shooting her a look as her eyes lit up in understanding.

“Mary,” he called, waiting for his receptionist to enter the room. “Could you please retrieve the necessary forms for filling the Potter and Black seats on the Wizengamot?” Mary nodded, closing the door behind her.

“So, you’re saying that I’m… the heir to the House of Black?” Kahlen asked, still digesting the information given to her a few moments prior.

Kingsley sent a gentle smile her way. “Yes, Kahlen, that’s what I’m saying. Ah, Mary, perfect, thank you.” Mary set the forms down on Kingsley’s desk, then made her exit. “Ok, let's see…” Kingsley flipped through the forms, assuring that everything was in order, then stopped on the last page. Looking up from the papers, he hesitantly spoke, “It appears that a witch or wizard under the age of 25 requires a parental signature to join the Wizengamot.”

Kahlen frowned. “Well that’s not fair,” she said, doing the math in her head. “You mean I have to wait over seven years because my parents are dead? Is there no way around it?”

“Unfortunately no. The forms are charmed, without the required components there is no way to file them.” The disappointment started taking hold of Kahlen while Kingsley looked over the page again. Kahlen’s thoughts were far away, on the family she had to inform of her failure, the remaining marauder and last link to her parents, when Kingsley gasped.

“Kahlen…” he started, the shock pouring out in his voice, “You… you have a living parent.” She froze.

“What? That’s impossible, my parents died almost sixteen years ago.” She wouldn’t let any hope sneak it’s way into her head, too used to having it snatched away.

“Lily and James Potter are dead, yes, but… It looks like your biological father was, in fact, not James,” he told her, all the gentleness in the world unable to soften the blow of this bomb.

Her throat felt dry, her hands growing clammy. It didn’t make any sense. There was no way, no chance. James Potter was her father, she was sure of it. “He… no, that can’t be right,” she rasped, trying to gain control of her thoughts that were spinning out of control. “Everyone who knew my father…” she paused. “Who knew James said I look just like him, that I act a lot like him, too.”

“Familial bonds can exist between adoptive parents and their children, too.” He looked down at the forms again. “It appears as though James adopted you immediately after your birth. It’s possible the bond between you allowed you to adapt to some of his mannerisms. As for your physical similarities… perhaps your birth father happened to have similar colouring.”

“I… I don’t know what to say.” Her head was spinning. She was growing nauseous, the biscuits she had with Hermione threatening to make a reappearance. Taking a few minutes to regain control, Kahlen tried to make sense of what she’d learned and what she still needed to do.

Remus was being kept from marrying his mate. Kahlen can help change that if she joins the Wizengamot. She has two seats waiting for her, giving her extra power and influence among the old wizards. To join the Wizengamot, she needs a parental signature. James and Lily Potter are dead, but James… James was not her father.

Taking a deep breath, she remembered the most important piece of information. Her birth father is alive. He can sign the forms, she can join the Wizengamot, and then Remus can marry Tonks. All she needs is the signature.

“Who is he?”

Kingsley didn’t need anything more to know what she was asking, searching through his forms once more and coming to a stop when he found it.

“His name is Anthony Edward Stark.”

Chapter Text

Kahlen paced the floor of the drawing room in Lupin Cottage, eight pairs of concerned eyes following her (nine, if you included the baby).

She’d called everyone to an emergency meeting after she left the Ministry; Hermione, Ron, George, Luna, Neville and Draco, with Remus and Tonks (and Teddy) offering their home. They’d been there for fifteen minutes, sitting in silence while Kahlen paced, occasionally muttering to herself, clenching her hands into fists and then releasing them.

“Potter,” Draco spoke, breaking the tense silence and shocking Kahlen out of her pacing. “Some of us actually have things to do, could we hurry this along?” His tone was bored, but she knew he was just as concerned as everyone else.

Draco had terrorized her when they were children, but the war changed everything. They stopped being children with petty rivalries and found themselves in the middle of a bloody war, with sides divided more deeply than ever before. Draco was forced into Voldemort’s ranks by his parents, while Kahlen, Ron and Hermione had become the faces of the side of light, sleeping in a tent and fighting for their lives. When the trio were captured and brought to Malfoy Manor for Draco to identify them, and sign their death warrants, he made his choice: he denied it. Draco swore he had never seen them in his life, that Kahlen Potter was much uglier (her face was covered in spots and lumps, so that was quite the insult to the girl). At the Battle of Hogwarts, Draco passed Kahlen a wand when she revealed herself to be alive, and it was that wand that brought an end to the dark lord. They settled their differences after that, and Draco found himself with three new friends that wouldn’t leave him alone (they knew he loved it).

“Right,” Kahlen mumbled, turning to face the group. “Of course. Yes…”

“Kals?” George prompted. 

“James Potter wasn’t my father!” The words burst from her—unable to be contained any longer— and sent the entire group into stunned silence. And then the questions started.

“What do you mean?”

“How could that be possible?”

“Who told you that?”

“Are you okay?”

“Holy hell!” Ron’s shocked response earned a smack from Hermione.

Kahlen sighed, taking a moment, and then began from the beginning. “I went to the Ministry to see Kings, to see if he could help me take the Potter seat on the Wizengamot. Turns out, I also have the right to the Black seat.” This gained widened eyes from many of the group, but Kahlen pushed on. “However, because I am under the age of 25, I need a parent’s signature giving permission to join the Wizengamot.”

“But… your parents are dead.” Neville was never known for his tact.

“I thought so too,” Kahlen nodded, “but it turns out, James Potter was not my father. My biological father is still alive.”

Everyone was quiet again, digesting this. Minutes passed with no words being said, Kahlen’s anxious energy growing as she waited for someone to weigh in.

“So…” Hermione seemed to hesitate. “Who is he?”

“His name is Anthony Edward Stark,” Kahlen told them. “He’s 46, he lives in New York City in America, and… he’s a muggle.”

This gained a loud response from everyone, the lot of them surprised that The Girl Who Lived, the one who defeated the Dark Lord, was actually the daughter of a muggle and a muggleborn.

“You’re extraordinarily powerful for a half-blood,” Luna chimed in, in her gentle, lilting voice. Kahlen sent a grateful smile her way, glad to have someone so calm in the room.

Eventually everyone settled down, plunging them back into a tense silence. Kahlen looked to Remus, who hadn’t said a word the whole time, choosing instead to stay quiet. He appeared to be contemplating something, which added extra anxiety onto Kahlen. “Moony?” The word was barely audible, but he heard it and locked eyes with hers, noticing the trepidation within them. “What do you think… about all this?”

Remus watched her a moment longer, took a deep breath, then his face broke into a huge smile. “I think it’s great, Kallie.” She was amazed by this answer, it was so far from what she expected. Her confusion must have been clear on her face, because Remus continued. “I mean, James was still your father. Nothing changes that, not even blood. But now… now you have a chance to have a father, your father, in your life. And I think you should meet him.” She started to protest, but he cut her off, needing her to hear him. “You should go to America. Not for me. Not for Tonks, or Teddy. But for you. You deserve a stable parent in your life. Meet him, spend some time with him, and with a little luck, you’ll have a solid foundation for a relationship.”

Kahlen thought this over for a second, then shook her head a little. “I don’t want a relationship with him. I just want to help you have the life you deserve.”

“And what about what you deserve? You deserve a family.”

“I have a family,” she frowned. “You’re my family. All of you.”

“We know. And you’re ours. But this… this man… he’s your chance to have everything your parents wanted for you.”

“I’m going to America.” Kahlen raised her hand, halting any cheers for her possible father-daughter relationship coming to fruition. “ Not to build a relationship, but to get these damn papers signed. I made you a promise Moony, and I intend to follow through.” They stared each other down for a minute, waiting to see if the other would break. Finally, Remus looked down with a sigh.

“Just… keep an open mind. Please? Don’t write him off before you’ve even met him.” Kahlen considered him for a moment, then gave a little nod. Just one.

— — —

Alone in her room, Kahlen started throwing clothes haphazardly into a bag. She didn’t really look at what she grabbed, still trying to wrap her head around the day’s events. It didn’t matter much what she brought anyway, she only planned to be there for a day or two.

Her portkey had been prepared for the next morning. She’d thought it might be better to get the whole thing over with. Time brings thinking, thinking allows for overthinking, and overthinking leads to bad decisions. At least, it does in Kahlen’s life.

When she left Lupin Cottage everyone wished her good luck and told her they’d text her (that old idea that technology and magic don’t mix? Myth, completely made up by old purebloods that are scared of progression of any kind). She told them that wasn’t necessary; she was only going to be gone a few days. But they all just shared a knowing look and let it go.

With her bag packed—including the invisibility cloak, because she never knows when she might need it—Kahlen laid down on her bed, hair strewn across the sheets. With nothing better to do, Kahlen was overcome with the need to do a little research, urged by a voice in her head that sounded strangely like Hermione.

Opening her laptop, Kahlen typed in ‘Anthony Edward Stark New York City’, hoping against hope there would be something, some face to attach to the name. Imagine her surprise when she not only found something, but in fact, she found everything.

TONY STARK: MERCHANT OF DEATH TURNED MAN OF IRON

Here we go, she thought, preparing to dive down the rabbit hole.

— — —

Three hours later she was aware of Tony Stark’s every mistake and triumph, and felt an overwhelming joy at the fact that wizards didn’t really use the internet. She had no interest in knowing what a person could find out about her with just a few clicks. 

Satisfied with her abundance of knowledge, Kahlen shut her laptop and went to sleep, images of metal men, glowing blue cubes and a magnificent tower still fresh in her mind.

She woke up early the next day, grabbed her bag and apparated to the travel point her portkey was set to arrive at. Anxiously shuffling from foot to foot, she thought about how she might go about getting the signature.

Telling him the truth was out of the question. He would think she wanted his money, which no, she was very well off, thank you very much. And on the off chance he believed her, how would she get him to sign the forms without telling him she was a witch? She couldn’t. And telling him was absolutely out of the question. So no, the truth would not be the way to go.

She thought about transfiguring the forms, making them look like a picture she wanted autographed, just another face in the crowds he would never truly see. But no, that wouldn’t work. Legal documents that were signed with transfiguration would immediately burn up. The same goes for forged signatures, so that was out, too.

Kahlen sighed, noting the lack of options at her disposal. Finally, the portkey appeared. The old running shoe in front of her brought her back to the Quidditch World Cup, the old boot portkey that brought them there. That was where she met Cedric for the first time. 

Hoping to avoid a complete breakdown, Kahlen pushed thoughts of the brunette boy away and grabbed hold of the shoe, letting it carry her halfway across the world to meet her father.

— — —

When Kahlen let go of the portkey she found herself in the alleyway of a busy street in Manhattan. Her face scrunched up at the smell of the city around her, overwhelmed by the scent of urine that she hoped was from some stray cat.

Walking out onto the sidewalk, bag in hand, she set off to find a place to stay, a hotel close to the tower which sported a big lit up A on the side of it. With a little help from her phone, Kahlen found a place rather quickly. No more than an hour had passed since she released the running shoe that Kahlen found herself in her room of a four-star hotel, a fifteen minute walk from the tower. Truly, the internet was a wonderful thing.

She used it again to find something to eat for dinner, having spent most of the afternoon looking for more information on the so called ‘Avengers’, so engrossed that she’d forgotten about lunch. Settling on a pizza joint two blocks south, Kahlen opted for in-store pickup, hoping to stretch her legs and maybe glimpse the tower that held her last living relative.

However, of course, she had zero luck. The tower was obscured by a big ugly building, built from crumbing brown bricks the shade of a mandrake, with all its rolls of fat. The pizza was good though. Small victories, I guess. Kahlen thought as she made her way back to the hotel.

With the pizza done and the Tower-viewing a no-go, Kahlen went back to her laptop, looking for anything that might help her coax that signature out of the billionaire she so desperately wished to avoid. And though she may have been out of luck when it came to the tower, she was suddenly graced with its presence.

According to an article Kahlen found to be quite resourceful, Stark Industries was finalising a merger with some other company, Gunderson Tech. A merger this big needed signatures. Lots of them. And based on her research, Tony Stark did not seem like the type of person to look before he signed.

Chapter Text

Waking up the next morning, Kahlen found herself feeling a lot of things, all of them contradicting. She was annoyed at having to be in America when she could be home in England, with the people she loved. She was nervous to come face-to-face with her father, who had no idea she existed. And oddly enough, she felt excitement, too. She was excited, not because she wanted to meet Tony Stark, no.

But because she wanted to trick him.

Her plan was simple: she would make her way to Stark’s floor in the tower, find the man, and tell him she was Pepper Potts’ assistant, sent to have him sign some forms for the Gunderson Tech. merger. With a bit of luck he’d sign it without looking too closely and she would go home, leaving him none the wiser.

It wasn’t foolproof, of course, but it was better than nothing.

The real issue would be bypassing the security. Kahlen had spent the night before trying to familiarize herself with every defence in the entire tower, as well as what spells might come in handy for getting past them.

She thought about using the invisibility cloak, but with all the advanced technology filling the walls of the tower she couldn’t be sure they wouldn’t know she was there anyway. Besides, if no one was around to open a door she was screwed, so the cloak was staying safely tucked in her bag.

As the clock on the wall chimed 10:00am, Kahlen glamoured her scars and walked out the door with the form in hand, dressed in black leggings and a simple but professional red shirt. She hoped that looking the part of the unimportant assistant would sway Stark into believing her deception.

By the time she made it to the tower her hands were sweaty, her chest starting to feel tight as she passed the threshold. Slowly, she approached the receptionist desk, trying to calm her erratic heartbeat.

“Hi there,” she said with a plastered smile and the most professional tone she could come up with. Having never worked in an office she wasn’t really sure what was normal, but the receptionist returned her smile, so she clearly did something right.

“What can I do for you today?” The receptionist—Alison, her name tag told her—responded, giving Kahlen her full attention. It was polite, of course, but it provided very little help in Kahlen’s attempt to appear calm and at ease.

“I’m looking for Mr. Stark? I have some paperwork from Ms. Potts, she needs them signed right away.”

Alison appeared to suspect nothing, but Kahlen apparently was not convincing enough. “Unfortunately, Mr. Stark is unable to be reached by anyone without access to the Gold Level floors at this time. If you want, you can leave them here and I can send them up?”

That definitely wouldn't work. “No, that’s alright. Ms. Potts asked that I keep these under wraps. I’ll come back later, then. Thank you for your help Alison.”

The girl, no older than 25, beamed at the use of her name. “It was my pleasure. Sorry I couldn’t do more.” She turned her attention back to her computer, then added, “I love your accent, by the way.”

Kahlen walked a way, a small but genuine smile gracing her lips despite the horrific failure she just endured. Plan B it was, then.

She made her way to the elevator, moving with the confidence belonging to someone who owned the building she stood in rather than someone who was trying to infiltrate it. Amazingly, it worked, getting her past security with a non-verbal Confundo. She got in the metal box, feeling relief: the hard part was over.

The universe decided it had different plans for her.

“Hello.” Kahlen jumped. The voice came from the ceiling, and though it sounded like a real woman (it even had an Irish accent) Kahlen knew that voice could not have come from a person. “May I see your badge? You don’t seem to have it visible on your person, and I am unable to grant any request until I know your clearance level.” The voice didn’t sound hostile, it merely sounded like it wanted to help to its fullest extent.

“Um…” Kahlen wasn’t sure what to do. She hadn’t planned for an AI in the building. “I just need to see Mr. Stark. I, uh… I have a few forms for him to sign.”

“I’m sorry, but I am unable to grant any request until I know your clearance level.” Okay, talking her way around an AI was going to be impossible. It was time for plan C: improvise.

“Look,” she said, searching the compartment for any cameras and finding two, “you seem to know what you’re doing, I won't deny you that, nor do I blame you for it.” Kahlen shut down both cameras with a single thought, then focused her attention on the AI, on feeling out the system within the walls. “But I came here with an important task,” she listened to the slight, almost nonexistent beeping coming from her left, and blasted it with magic. “There are people counting on me. And I won't be letting them down.”

And with that, she cast Wingardium Leviosa and sent the elevator to the penthouse, which she assumed would house the egotistical billionaire.

Walking out onto the floor, Kahlen noticed that the room looked like a huge kitchen/living room/dining room all rolled into one. It was clear that Stark didn’t live on this floor by the absence of bedrooms, but it was definitely used for socializing of some kind. She was bound to find Stark here eventually, so she settled for waiting him out.

She glanced around the room, noting the dark stone of the floors and the white marble of the island countertop. Walking toward said island, she passed by the living room, which consisted of numerous couches and chairs as well as what looked to be roughly a 90 inch flat screen TV mounted on the wall. Kahlen sat herself on one of the stools tucked under the island, quickly running her eyes over the elegant wood of the cabinets and the sophistication of every appliance before swivelling her chair to face the dining room. The table was a huge piece of thick glass, with six chairs on either side. The entire place screamed wealth, but there was also a sense of… homeliness. Of comfort and relaxation.

Kahlen was just starting to allow that relaxation to take hold when the elevator chimed, releasing one Tony Stark into the room, his head bent as he texted someone.

Kahlen froze. Here she was, saviour of the wizarding world, defeater of Voldemort, and she froze at the sight of this man. And he wasn’t even wearing the armour. 

But he was her father. She still couldn’t quite wrap her head around it. Her father, who was not James Potter, who was not dead, but was a superhero. Tony Stark, who was standing right in front of her, was her father. 

She couldn’t do this. She wasn’t ready. Why hadn’t she thought this through more? Her palms were sweating worse than before, her head pounding and making it impossible to think. She was honestly contemplating apparating right in front of him, secrecy laws be damned, just to escape his presence. But, of course, he chose that moment to look up and finally notice her there, her eyes still wide with fear.

— — —

Tony was having a shit day. 

Pepper was hounding him about the next big thing for SI after the Gunderson merger, Happy was texting him non-stop about ‘security breaches’, and Rhodey was out of town, so he was down one perfectly good drinking buddy. 

He’d been in his lab all morning, trying to ignore everyone else, but between Pepper, Happy and FRIDAY, he barely had a moment to himself. In an attempt to get just that, he went up to the Avengers common room, knowing it would be empty. All of the other active Avengers were currently on a mission; he had the place to himself.

So what in the hell is this random girl doing here?

She looked petrified—clutching a set of papers to her chest—though Tony assumed that was just from being in the presence of the great Tony Stark.

He eyed her for a moment, sizing her up, before deciding she wasn’t a threat and continuing to the bar to pour himself a drink. As he popped the top off the decanter holding his favourite scotch, he heard the girl—really, she couldn’t be older than 19— get up from her stool and stand for a moment. He then heard the footsteps as she walked in his direction, coming to a stop a few feet to his left and sounding much more confident than she had appeared to him moments earlier.

“Mr. Stark?” She looked him in the eye, not a hint of her earlier fear evident on her face, and spoke with an assured tone, as if this was a regular occurrence for her.

“Obviously.” She frowned a little at that, then soldiered on.

“I’m Ms. Potts’ newest assistant. She sent me to have you sign some paperwork for the Gunderson merger, so if you have a moment…” she trailed off as Tony turned to face her. 

There was something familiar about her, though he was sure he’d never seen her before. And then it hit him.

The hair was all wrong, dark brown instead of a white blonde. The skin tone was a bit off, too, and there was a smattering of freckles over her nose, hardly visible unless you looked hard enough. But the eyes… it may have been the alcohol affecting his memory, but Tony could have sworn this girls eyes were identical to his mothers. 

The realization knocked the wind out of him a little before he managed to regain his composure, brushing past what must be an alcohol induced hallucination. He resolved to get rid of the girl as soon as possible, so his eyes couldn’t play any more tricks on him.

“Give them here,” he demanded, a gruff quality lacing his words from the scotch. She handed him the papers and a pen, too. It seemed this girl was just as eager to get out of the room as he was to have her gone.

— — —

Come on, Kahlen thought, watching the man set his glass down, filled with what she assumed to be scotch based on the amber colouring of the liquid. Just sign the damn thing.

She didn’t like the way Stark stared at her, as though he knew her, knew who she was. She just needed the stupid signature and she’d be out of the building before he could think twice. It shouldn’t be too difficult, what with the alcohol in Stark’s system clouding his judgement. 

Kahlen also added a heavy glamour to the forms, not enough that they would burn when signed, but enough that Stark wouldn’t really be able to focus on any particular words. All he needed to do was write his name. It would be that easy.

Of course, it was never that easy. Not for her.

Just as the pen touched the paper, Stark stopped, then placed the pen gently on it’s side. Kahlen swallowed back the panic starting to build as he turned back to her, a dangerous glint in his eye.

“The Gunderson Tech. merger was finalized last night.” Crap. “Pepper would never hire a new assistant; her current one is amazing at her job.” Double crap. “No one should be able to come into this floor except Avengers and close friends.” Yeah, she was screwed.

Tony had walked towards her, slowly, step by step, forcing her to retreat. How she ended up backed into a corner of the massive room, she had no idea, and yet, there they were.

Kahlen’s mind was racing, trying to find a way out of the situation she’d fallen into, when a piece of metal came flying from the door to her far right. It attached to Stark's right hand, its glowing centre thrumming with energy and pointed right at her.

There was no other way. She’d never get the signature now, not unless she did the one thing she dreaded most. But for Remus… for Remus, she would do it.

“Who are you?” Stark asked, the anger and air of danger increasing with every passing second. Kahlen’s hands were shaking, her palms sweating, her heart pounding. Here goes nothing.

“I’m your daughter."

Chapter Text

Well that could've gone better.

Kahlen was currently sitting in an interrogation room; grey cement floor, walls and ceiling, and an ugly metal table to top it off. Pretty standard. 

Her arm was being fitted with a state-of-the-art lie detector test by a man in a black uniform. She’d tried making him laugh while he took some of her blood—for a paternity test, she assumed— but the man seemed to be unbreakable, so she eventually gave up.

After her confession, Kahlen and Tony had stood still, not a word uttered between the two of them, for almost 15 minutes. Stark seemed to be in shock, his arm never lowering the gauntlet from it’s offensive position, but it had gone slack. He wasn’t threatening anymore, merely unable to move. 

Luckily for them, the tense silence was broken by a small army of security sent by the AI, who had apparently been listening the whole time and decided Kahlen to be a liar. The security guards approached Kahlen, prepared to escort her off the premises however necessary, but Tony stopped them. His voice hoarse, he demanded they leave her untouched and retrieved his phone, stating that he had to make a phone call. 

He returned 20 minutes later to find Kahlen still in the same position he left her, but now with a smug smirk on her face and the security guards avoiding eye contact, one of whom was wearing a pained expression.

Did she kick one of them right between the legs for getting a little too close? Yes. Yes she did. And she’d do it again.

Tony chose to leave the circumstances he found the group in to them, and they returned to an uncomfortable silence for another half hour, the air almost suffocating with the lack of words. Kahlen contemplated saying something numerous times, but she couldn’t bring herself to do it. She still couldn’t figure out how he felt about what she’d said; did he think she was a lair? Probably. But she needed him to sign those papers, for Remus. She couldn’t afford any more mistakes.

At last, a team of men and women in sleek black uniforms exited the elevator and escorted the two of them to the basement, where they were now. Kahlen was sitting at the metal table and Stark, she presumed, was behind the pane of glass embedded in the wall to her left, watching Agent No Name get her set up for her interrogation. 

Kahlen wasn’t worried. She knew how lie detector tests worked, and more importantly, she knew how to fool them. She wouldn’t push her luck by lying on every question, but should she need to bend the truth to maintain her narrative, she could control her heartbeat enough to do so.

No Name finished, checking with the man behind the glass and the woman watching the screen connected to Kahlen's arm for any discrepancies. He settled into the chair across from Kahlen, watched her for a minute in a ridiculous attempt at establishing dominance, and then spoke.

“Let’s begin.”

— — —

Tony watched the girl being set up by a SHIELD agent from behind the one way glass.

He still couldn’t believe it. He had a daughter. 

When he told Pepper to meet him in the basement and caught her up on what had happened, she’d told him it was possible the young girl was lying. There was a lot to gain from being affiliated with Tony Stark.

But he was sure. This girl, the one with eyes exactly like those of Maria Stark, was his daughter. He didn’t need a lie detector test or a paternity test to tell him that, but Fury had insisted, stating in his cold manner that a threat to Iron Man is a threat to SHIELD, and until she was confirmed as his blood relative, that was all she was to him.

Pepper stood beside Tony now, her hand holding his, providing him an anchor to keep his wandering mind on Earth. Nick stood a few feet behind them, checking with his agents that everything was in order and giving the green light to the man inside the room, who took a moment after sitting to try—and fail, it seemed—to intimidate the girl who just smiled sweetly at him.

“Let’s begin,” the agent started, flipping through a few files and pages of questions, then turning his attention back to the girl, all business. “What’s your name?”

“Kahlen Potter.” Kahlen. His daughter’s name was Kahlen. It was a beautiful name, it suited her well, and he felt relieved that he had something to call her other than ‘the girl’.

“How old are you, Kahlen?” The agent—who Tony had decided to call Tough Guy, based on the act he was putting on—asked.

“Seventeen,” she replied. Tony did the math in his head, trying to figure out in what time frame he’d gotten her mom pregnant.

“Who are your parents?”

“My mother is Lily Potter nee Evans, my adopted father is James Potter, and my biological father is Anthony Stark.” Her use of his full name made Tony cringe, but not as much as the fact that he had no idea who Lily Potter was. Really, he ought to have kept some kind of record.

“Where do you live?” Tough Guy continued.

“Surrey, England.” 

Tough Guy leaned across the table a little, then asked, slowly, “And why, Ms. Potter, are you here?”

“In this room? I wasn’t exactly asked.” Kahlen smirked at the frown she brought to Tough Guy’s face, finding great joy in breaking him down. His glare caused her to sigh, and then she answered: “I’m here to get Mr. Stark to sign documents for the termination of parental rights.” You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed her announcement.

Termination of parental rights ?

No, Tony thought. No, that can’t be right. I just met her, how can she already want me out of her life? His breaths started coming in quicker, reacting with the panic that was starting to rise, but Pepper—being the most amazing woman ever, as always—noticed and gave his hand a little squeeze, bringing him back to the scene before him.

Tough Guy seemed sceptical of Kahlen’s answer, based on the look he was giving her. He looked to the woman watching the machine and received a slight nod, indicating that Kahlen was telling the truth, which only served to add to his scepticism.

“Are you sure you’re not here for his money? For fame? Mr. Stark is a very important man, tying yourself to him would have a lot of benefits.” Tough Guy asked the questions like he already knew the answers, like he knew everything about the girl sitting across from him despite having met her twenty minutes prior.

Kahlen rolled her eyes. “No, I’m not here for his money. I have plenty of my own, thank you very much.” This confused Tony. How could a seventeen year old have enough money that she didn’t even bother asking a billionaire for a couple thousand? Was she in a gang? Oh god, was she a stripper? Not that there’s anything wrong with a woman being comfortable with her body, Tony thought that was great, power to them and all that. But his daughter–

Another squeeze from Pepper brought an end to his internal debate. Tony refocused on the conversation being had.

“And I don’t want to be affiliated with Mr. Stark in any way,” Kahlen continued. The words stung Tony a little, making him cringe, but he had to accept the fact that not everyone wanted to be famous. And, of course, his daughter happens to be one of those people.

He couldn’t find it in himself to blame her. Being a Stark is never easy, never allows for any privacy. How could he be upset with her for wanting no part in the life he often found himself despising?

Tough Guy looked at Kahlen, still disbelieving, but letting it go for now. “You said you wanted to file for a termination of Mr. Stark’s parental rights?” Kahlen nodded. “What about your parents?” This struck a nerve with Kahlen. The humour vanished from her eyes, her expression hardened.

“They’re dead,” She said, no emotion in her voice.

Tony heard Pepper gasp beside him, saw her raise her hand to cover her mouth from the corner of his eye, and found himself feeling like he wanted to do the same. He couldn’t, though. He couldn’t even move.

“I’m sorry for your loss.” Tough Guy at least had the decency to sound a little sorry, but whether he was sorry about her parents or sorry he’d asked, Tony couldn’t be sure. “Can you tell me what happened? How long ago was this?” And Tony was back to wanting to punch him in the face.

“Car accident. Almost sixteen years ago.” Sixteen years? Sixteen years his daughter had been alone? An orphan at the age of one , and where was he? Enjoying his wealth, his privilege, having one-night-stands every other night. He couldn’t have been more disgusted in himself.

“And who was your guardian?” Yes, who took care of Tony’s daughter when he didn’t? When he should’ve.

“My maternal aunt and her husband.” Tony frowned. She sounded almost… disdainful? It seemed like she disliked her aunt and uncle, but why?

This interrogation was giving Tony more questions than it was answering.

“And what about them? Why do you need Mr. Stark to sign these papers now?”

“They’re moving. And I have no interest in moving with them. My godfather offered to adopt me so I don’t have to.” Kahlen seemed to get caught on the word ‘godfather’, just for a split second, but Tony noticed. He filed that information away to look at later, when his brain stopped screaming at him with every new thing he learned.

“I see. That’s very generous of him.” Kahlen seemed to have regained her composure, the smirk back on her face. Tough Guy saw this, lost a little more of his will to live, and continued. “Moving on, how did you get into one of Mr. Stark’s private floors?”

“What’s your name?”

Tough Guy sighed.

“Is it Jimmy?”

“Miss—“

“It’s Jimmy, isn’t it?”

“Miss please—“

“Because I feel like it’s Jimmy.”

“Just answer the question.”

“Well, you see Jimmy,” Kahlen leaned back in her chair, grinning, “I used this magic box called an elevator. Quite amazing really, all shiny and metal and it just–” she made an upwards gesture with her hands, “goes right up at the press of a button. Brilliant invention.” Jimmy scowled, which made Tony and Kahlen both smile at his distaste.

Fury took a few steps forward, a signature frown on his face. “Well, she’s got the Stark charm, that’s for sure,” he said. “Or rather, the lack thereof.” Tony smiled wider.

“The system is very advanced, how do you explain your bypassing the most intelligent AI in the world?” It was a valid question, of course, but Tony frowned at it anyway. He didn’t like how Jimmy asked it, like he expected Kahlen to be a mastermind who planned for months just to get into the tower. Then again, why would she have come up to the penthouse and lied about the documents she needed him to sign? It wasn’t adding up.

Kahlen didn’t seem to like the question either. Her smile slowly dripped away, replaced by a slight frown at what Jimmy was insinuating. “I didn’t notice any AI. Maybe there was a malfunction.”

Tony felt insulted. FRIDAY was the most sophisticated piece of technology in the world, she wouldn’t be malfunctioning. He would know, he’d coded her, and he had done so to make her perfect.

Jimmy didn’t believe her either, based on the look he gave the agent watching Kahlen’s heartbeat. But, once again, the test showed she was telling the truth.

“So you’re telling me you flew halfway across the world to find one of the richest and most prominent men in our society, completely bypassing the most advanced piece of technology in the world that powers and controls Mr. Stark's entire tower, just to ask him to release any legal obligations he may have for you?” It did sound ridiculous when put that way, but Kahlen was undeterred.

“Yes, Jimmy. That’s correct. Well done.” Her voice was condescending. Kahlen was fully grinning now.

“Alright then. I guess I have no further questions for you,” Jimmy sighed, packing his papers away into a file. “It’s up to Stark now what he wants to do with you.” 

Yeah, Tony was going to punch him.

Jimmy stood and started unhooking Kahlen from the wires connecting her to the test. With the interrogation over—and no real incriminating evidence against Kahlen—Tony allowed himself a breath. He turned to face Pepper, who was watching him, her concern evident by the way she scrutinized his every movement. Her hand was still holding tight to his.

“Sir,” another agent spoke, walking into the room and headed for Fury, handing him an envelope. “The paternity tests came back.”

The entire room held their breaths, awaiting the results as Fury tore the envelope open at a glacial pace.

“Congratulations Stark,” Fury drawled. “It’s positive. Looks like you’re a dad.”

It felt like all the air was sucked out of the room. Tony had known, of course. He’d felt it in his bones, felt that the girl in the other room was his daughter. But feeling it and having it confirmed… Those were two entirely different things.

Pepper watched Tony process the news, searching his expression for whatever emotions the announcement might’ve brought on, but Tony couldn’t even tell for himself, not really.

“What are you thinking?” She asked him with more gentleness than he’d ever heard, which was saying a lot.

Tony took another deep breath. “I’m thinking… I’m thinking that I have a daughter.” He allowed himself a little smile before another thought hit him. “And… I’m thinking she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

Pepper gripped his hand tighter, if that was even possible. Her sympathy was pouring out in waves.

“What am I going to do, Pep?” Tony brought a hand up to pinch the bridge of his nose, a migraine from the earlier alcohol and added stress making itself known.

The question was only slightly rhetorical, and Pepper considered it for a moment until she could find the right answer. “Tony,” she began, “how badly do you want to be in your daughter’s life?”

It was a silly question, Tony thought, but he answered it anyway. “More than anything.” He stood up straighter to make his level of resolve clear to her, though Pepper knew by now that Tony Stark never said anything he didn’t mean.

“Then you do whatever it takes."

Chapter Text

When Kahlen was finally unhooked from the lie detector test she was told she was free to go. She made her way to the door, turned at the last second and said, “Thanks, Jimmy. We should do it again some time.” Then she winked as he turned to her with a scowl and made her way out of the room.

“Oh!” She exclaimed, surprised to find Stark standing right in front of her, a smile that she’d seen him use in many pictures taken by the paparazzi directed at her. “Um… hi?”

“Hi.” Kahlen raised her eyebrow, letting her confusion show. “We never properly met. I’m Tony.” 

He extended a hand toward her, which she took after a moment and shook, hesitantly.

“Kahlen,” she said, frowning at his clearly fake smile. She’d been famous for as long as she’d known she was a witch, she knew a celebrity's fake smile when she saw it. She had her own, for Merlin’s sake.

The two of them fell into an awkward silence. Kahlen refused to speak first, she wouldn’t utter a word until she knew how he felt about the circumstances of their relationship.

Tony spoke, trying to force the discomfort coming from them both out of the air.

“So… where did you go to school?” Kahlen almost smiled. The question was ridiculous, given everything that had happened in the past three hours. She managed to keep the neutral expression on her face by sheer force of will.

“Um… St. Minerva Academy, it’s a, uh, a boarding school. In Scotland.” She was stuttering, a result of the nerves she felt around the man, but her head was clear enough to give an answer. 

St. Minerva Academy was what Hogwarts students had been told to tell muggles, to keep the secrecy of the school intact. There was even a website with a few fake pictures to try to sell the lie, but Kahlen found it counter affective. The website had almost no information on it. If anything, it was more suspicious than there being no online information whatsoever.

“Scotland?” His eyebrows raised in surprise. “Wow, I bet it was beautiful there.” 

It wasn’t really a question, but Kahlen nodded anyway.

“You, uh… you said you have a godfather who wants to adopt you? Who is he?” Kahlen frowned a little. 

The question wasn’t personal, not really, but even the word godfather sometimes upset her, bringing her back to a place she never wanted to be again.

“His name is Remus Lupin,” she told him, a hint of defensiveness and suspicion coming out in the words.

Tony opened his mouth—presumably to ask another question Kahlen would find pointless—but Kahlen cut him off.

“Look, Mr. Stark–”

“Please, call me Tony.”

“Mr. Stark,” she said a bit more forcefully. “Are you going to sign the papers or not?”

Tony sighed. The question wasn’t unexpected, or even unfair in any way, but he was still upset that she’d asked it.

“Look kid,” Kahlen frowned at being called a kid, but Tony continued as if he hadn’t seen it, “I just found out you existed. I get that I haven’t been there for you, when you needed me most–”

“I didn’t need you.” 

Maybe it was a little harsh, but Kahlen couldn’t stand by while this man who knew nothing about what she’d been through told her what she’d needed. She felt a little guilty as he took on a hurt look, so she tried to be a little gentler. “I had my godfather, and a lot of really good friends. They were more than enough.”

She’d thought this clarification might make him feel better, but he just became confused.

“Not your aunt and uncle?”

Oh shit. She forgot, not everyone knew what terrible people the Dursleys were. She tried her best to backtrack and cover up her mistake.

“Of course, my aunt and uncle. I thought that was implied,” she replied, but her tight voice and sour expression didn’t seem to fool him. If anything, he became more suspicious.

“Right… Anyway,” he pushed through, sincerity colouring his every word. “I didn’t know about you. And I’m sorry I wasn’t there.” Kahlen tried to interrupt again, but he put his hand up, his eyes pleading for her to listen, so she complied. “I know what it’s like to not have your father in your life, believe me. A crappy dad is not the kind of thing a person should want to be, and I don’t. I don’t want to be to you what my dad was to me.”

Kahlen was surprised. Based on what she’d read online—and her experience with muggle adults— she’d expected him to want her out of his life. And not only was he defying this expectation by actually wanting to be her father, he was talking about his own dad. That was a big deal, she assumed, considering the fact that he never talked about his father. Not to anyone who would write about it, anyway.

“Please let me be the father figure you should’ve had your whole life.”

Damn. He had been doing pretty well, but now he’d hit a sore spot of Kahlen’s, and she found herself losing more of what little filter she had.

“Listen,” she said plainly, “I’ve had plenty of father figures. Every one of them has let me down. And no offence, but I don’t really see this ending any other way. So if you could just sign those papers, I’ll be on my way, and we can forget this ever happened.”

Kahlen hoped this would be enough to persuade him, maybe even upset him enough that he never wanted to talk to her again, but his resolve just seemed to double.

“I’m your father. Despite what you think, as your father I have an obligation to you.” He said it with so much emotion, she almost believed him. Almost.

Kahlen rolled her eyes. “I’m seventeen. I’ll be eighteen in a few months, and then I’ll be a legal adult. Besides, I’ve taken care of myself well enough for a long time.”

Tony’s frown deepened, which she hadn’t thought was possible. A bit of anger joined his features, his brows furrowing.

“I just want to get to know you.”

“And I don’t. So will you sign the papers or not?” She’d laid it out, clear and simple. It was up to him now, out of her hands.

“Just… give me a little time to build a relationship. I want to be in your life.” 

The anger was gone now, replaced with desperation. He was letting her see just how badly he wanted this, and though she’d never admit it, Kahlen’s resolve was beginning to waver. Not enough to give in, but enough to plant a little seed of doubt in her mind.

“Look,” she started, sighing as she tried to think of a way to let him down again. “I don't–”

“What if I made you an offer?” Tony interrupted, his eyes lit up with excitement in stark contrast to how down they’d appeared seconds before. His excitement made Kahlen nervous.

“What kind of offer?” She asked hesitantly, almost wishing he wouldn’t tell her.

“You live with me for three months—until the end of the summer—and, if you still want to be adopted by this Lupin guy, I’ll sign the papers.” 

Kahlen eyed him as she considered the offer. Three months was a long time to spend in another country, away from everyone she knows, with a man she just met. But he was offering her what she wanted. It was the only way to get what she needed, what Remus needed.

“Three months? And then you’ll sign the papers? You’ll leave me alone?”

Despite her last question, Tony’s smile grew, emboldened by the acceptance he could feel coming.

“If that’s what you want at that time, then yes. I’ll sign the papers.” He put his hand out again, awaiting her decision. “What do you say?”

Kahlen stared at his hand, wondering just what she was getting herself into, and then she took it.

“Deal.”

Chapter Text

“So, this is the common room.” Tony gave a wide gesture with his arms, smiling as Kahlen took it all in. “Although, you already know that, I guess,” he said with a grin. Kahlen allowed herself to look a little sheepish.

She didn’t regret what she’d done. She regretted it not working, but not that she’d tried it. She did, however, regret that that was how she met her father the first time, now that she had to live with him.

“I’m just messing with you.” He put his hand on her shoulder but she cringed away. He took on a hurt look, which made her feel a little guilty, forcing her gaze to the ground.

She still couldn’t get past her aversion to muggle adults. The Dursleys were truly terrible, and as she’d had minimal contact with any adults in her early life aside from the Dursley’s friends, in her mind they were all the same.

Tony may have seemed alright, but she couldn’t be sure, and from her experience it was better to be safe than sorry in these scenarios.

Tony pushed them past the awkward moment, bringing a forced smile onto his face.

He walked around the room, Kahlen following hesitantly a few steps behind. “Um… the, uh, the top ten floors of Avengers Towers are our residence. They’re Gold Level, which means only Avengers, family and friends can enter them.” He eyed her with a bit of suspicion as he said this, clearly implying that he knew Kahlen shouldn’t have been able to come up to the penthouse, but she avoided his gaze, pretending to be engrossed in the floor to ceiling windows. He could tell she wouldn’t be revealing her secrets anytime soon, so he continued with his tour, leading them to the floor below the common room.

“This floor is where Pepper and I stay, and where you’ll be staying, too.” 

Kahlen marvelled at the sleek design of the living room. There was a kitchen off to the side, and although it was much smaller than the one in the common room it was just as modern and expensive looking. The living room had a wide hallway leading away from the stairs and elevator, where she assumed the bedrooms and bathrooms were.

“Below us is Steve and Clint’s floor. Below them is Wanda and Nat, then Bruce and Sam, and then there’s a floor for Thor and Loki, but they live off-world most of the time.”

The names of the other Avengers brought little recognition to Kahlen, just images here and there from her internet sleuthing, but she turned her full attention to him at the mention of Loki, her interest piqued. 

Loki was well known amongst wizards; as the God of mischief and magic, many believed he was the father of magic on Earth. No one in the magical world believed he was behind the attack on New York in 2012, they could sense the dark magic controlling him from beyond the planet. They all loved the god; Fred and George used to pray to him before every prank, for Merlin’s sake.

Tony took her mild interest to mean that he was getting through to her, so he continued talking about his teammates.

“Most of the team are away on a mission right now, but they didn’t need my special skills. Lucky for us.” He drew a smile out of her, though it was half pity for his misunderstanding of the reason for her interest.

“After that, there’s the gym, fully equipped with machines that are designed to train super soldiers, as well as an incredible sparring ring. That’s where we all train together, team bonding and all that. Or at least, that’s what Spangles says.” His ridiculous nickname for Captain America made her snort unexpectedly, encouraging his belief that their relationship was getting stronger by the minute.

“Then there’s my lab, where I spend the majority of my time, upgrading gear and inventing new things. After that is Bruce’s lab, which is mostly chemistry experiments. That’s his specialty. And last but definitely least, the conference rooms. That’s where we hold meetings, debriefs and press conferences.” With all the floors explained in full, they lapsed into silence again. Tony snapped his fingers a few times, trying to dispel the discomfort between them, but it only served to make it worse.

“Um… your room is that way,” he said, pointing down the hall. “Just before mine and Pepper’s.” He started walking down the hallway, glancing behind him to ensure she was following. When she started walking he turned back around, leading the way.

When they arrived in the doorway, Kahlen saw it had a big queen sized bed, a sitting area, and a massive mirror, almost reaching the ceiling. 

“That’s the bathroom,” Tony told her, pointing out the door on the left side of the room. She couldn’t see it, but she was sure it was just as elegant, if not more so, than the bedroom. “And that door there is the closet.”

Kahlen approached the double doors to the right of the mirror, opening them simultaneously. 

Her jaw dropped.

The closet was almost as big as the room it was attached to. She stepped through the doors, staring in awe at the rows of clothes ranging from sweats to evening gowns. Every one of them was different but equally expensive looking. Upon touching them, she found some of the pieces made from silk, softer than anything she’d ever felt. There was even an entire shelf of shoes!

She turned back around, eyes wide in wonder as she saw Tony standing in the doorway, watching her. He smiled like making her happy was his only goal in life. 

— — —

Tony left to let her get settled, telling her that dinner was at 6:00pm in the common room. 

Apparently the individual floors had smaller kitchens for a reason: the Avengers preferred to eat their meal in the common room, like a family. It surprised Kahlen to learn this, as she’d thought the team was just that: a team, business associates. But the more she learned, the more she doubted the truth in that thought.

Kahlen didn’t have much to unpack, she hadn’t brought very much with her as she’d only expected to be gone a few days. It was lucky that Tony had thought to buy her some things, but the entire wardrobe was unnecessary. Appreciated, sure, but still unnecessary.

When she finished putting her meager belongings into where they would reside for the next three months she pulled out her phone and pressed on a contact, calling the number. It rang for a few seconds, then the person on the other end answered.

“Hello?”

“‘Mione, hi, how are you?”

“Kahlen? What are you doing calling me, I thought you’d only be gone a few days?” She said it in a way that made it clear she was teasing, that she’d expected Kahlen to be gone longer when the girl hadn’t even known herself.

“Yeah, about that… I might be gone a little longer.”

“What’s happened?” Hermione’s voice was full of concern, determining that Kahlen was not really happy about whatever caused her delayed return.

That’s why Kahlen loved her best friend. She may have wanted Kahlen to connect with her father, but she would never want her to be unhappy for that to happen.

“I… may have tried to trick him into signing the papers, and he might’ve… sort of… caught me?” She winced, anticipating the scolding coming her way. 

“Kahlen,” Hermione said, her voice calm. Oh god, calm is way worse than yelling. Kahlen would take a howler over this tone. “Why would you do that?”

“I was… scared, I don’t know. I just–” She tried weakly to defend herself but was cut off by Hermione with a much angrier voice.

“Kahlen Potter, you better do better than ‘scared’ or I will come down there and wallop you myself.”

Bring back the calm voice, please god, bring back the calm voice.

“It doesn’t matter anyway, Hermione.” Kahlen sighed, took a deep breath and continued. “I told him the truth. We did a paternity test to prove it, so he believes me. And I told him the forms were for the termination of parental rights, for me to be adopted by Remus.” She rushed out the last sentence and pinched the bridge of her nose, expecting the headache that would follow Hermione’s reaction.

“Kahlen!” The high pitch of her exclamation made Kahlen wince.

“I know, but that’s not even the worst part.” Kahlen almost wished she would interrupt again, but Hermione waited patiently for the rest. “He wouldn’t sign them unless I live with him until the end of the summer. So… I guess I’ll be away for a while.” She chuckled humorlessly, still coming to terms with her fate.

“Oh Kallie… are you okay?” Hermione’s voice now held nothing but concern, the earlier anger vanished.

“No… not really.” She exhaled. “But I have to be. For Remus.”

Hermione pondered this for a minute. “I know you say this is for Remus, but… maybe things will work out for the best this way. Just… just try to give him a chance.”

“Yeah,” Kahlen said. “I’ll try.”

“Promise?”

“Promise.”

— — —

Kahlen made her way upstairs to the common room to make dinner. Tony hadn’t told her to do it, of course, but she assumed that was why he told her when dinner was to be ready, and though she had no interest in getting to know Mr. Stark, she didn’t exactly want to start these three months by disappointing him and making him resent her.

There was plenty of time for that. No reason to rush the end result.

She looked around the kitchen, trying to figure out what to make with what was there. It was a little bare, but her experience in the Dursley’s household made her an expert at making something from nothing.

She pulled items from the cabinets, boiling water in a pot as she gathered her ingredients when an idea suddenly occurred to her.

“Um, robot…lady?” 

She was talking to the ceiling. God, she felt like an idiot.

Luckily, the ceiling talked back.

“What can I do for you, Miss Potter?” The voice was calm, it had a relaxing effect on her.

“Where… where is Mr. Stark from?”

Despite her poor wording, the AI understood what she was asking. “Boss’s mother was Italian.”

Italian. That would be easy enough, she knew how to make lots of Italian food.

“Thanks,” she said earnestly.

“Of course. If you need any assistance in the future, you can call for me.”

Kahlen furrowed her eyebrows. “How?” What would she call to get an AI’s attention? She certainly wouldn’t be calling for the ‘robot lady’ again.

“My name is FRIDAY. You may call me that, if you’d like.”

“Friday?” Kahlen snorted. “Why Friday?”

“FRIDAY stands for Female Replacement Intelligent Digital Assistant Youth,” she said, then added: “Boss loves acronyms.”

Kahlen smiled at the fact that Stark had taken the time to come up with an acronym for his AI.

“Thanks, Friday.”

She returned to cooking, getting into a rhythm as old as she could remember. There was about two hours to dinner, so she settled on a dish quickly and started on making bread from scratch for a side dish, as well as hand made pasta. Forty-five minutes later, the bread was in the oven and she was working on shaping the pasta into her desired shape, taking comfort in the monotony that was cooking. Even though she had been forced to do it at the Dursley's, Kahlen had always enjoyed cooking. She didn't even realize she was humming, some tune from the back of her mind, a lullaby.She was really starting to relax when she turned, and froze.

That’s happens when you find Captain America, Hawkeye and the Black Widow in full uniform,  pointing their weapons at you and glaring with a murderous rage.

“Who are you?”

She was really getting tired of people asking her that.

Chapter Text

When they came back from a mission to secure a Hydra base, Steve, Clint and Nat had expected the common room to be empty. Their other team members were unloading the Quinjet, while Tony would be in his lab, of course. He didn’t know they were back yet, so he wouldn't have left his lab for dinner unless Pepper dragged him out by the ear.

They rode the elevator in silence, still exhausted from the mission and planning on a quick dinner before an early bed, but instead they found a stranger standing in the kitchen and… humming?

What the hell?

Adrenaline still coursing through them, the three shared a grim look and a nod, back into business mode. They creeped up behind the island to avoid detection, prepared their weapons for a fight, and then she turned around.

The girl—maybe 20 years old—completely froze in shock to find them standing there. She didn’t seem like a threat, but in their line of work they could never be sure, so they kept their arms raised and steady.

Steve, as the leader of their group, spoke for them.

“Who are you?”

— — —

“I’m not going to ask you again. Who the hell are you?” 

The three Avengers continued to stare Kahlen down, their weapons poised and ready to fire… or be thrown, in the Captain’s case. 

She looked the group up and down, taking in their costumes (who thought the red white and blue was a good idea?), eyeing the gun, arrow and shield prepared to do her harm if her answer wasn’t the right one. It was a very intimidating image, really, quite terrifying for a normal person.

Unfortunately for them, Kahlen Potter was not a normal person. She’d faced far worse than three muggles in silly outfits with non magical weapons. And honestly, when you’ve walked into a forest filled with dark creatures and magical Nazi’s during a war, fully intending to be killed? Not much scares a person after that.

She turned back to the dinner, continuing to roll and shape the pasta with her back to her potential attackers.

This, apparently, was not what they were expecting.

A quick look at the reflective surface of the oven fan showed the heroes still staring at her, but now with shock, their weapons less sure of their target.

Kahlen smirked a little to herself, grabbing a candy she’d found in a jar on the counter and popping it in her mouth, sucking on it and bringing an incredulous look to the faces behind her.

Maybe three months here wouldn’t be so bad afterall.

— — —

Steve watched the girl roll out some dough onto the counter, dumbfounded.

Was she… ignoring them?

He didn’t think he was above anyone, no matter his status. In fact, he preferred people to treat him like everybody else, just another stranger, and he was pretty certain the spies on either side of him felt the same way. But when someone ignores three Avengers–who are actively threatening that person, by the way–and they just… turn around? It was insulting, is what it was.

He shared a look with Clint, who looked just as shocked as he felt. Natasha had always been better at hiding her emotions than the rest of them, having been raised in the Red Room, but she looked about as surprised as Steve had ever seen her, with a bit of anger mixed in.

The Black Widow did not like to be ignored, not unless she intended to be.

They did their best to regain their composure, some of Nat’s anger rubbing off on the other two. They aimed their weapons again, preparing to fire if need be. This girl may look harmless, but in Steve’s experience the only type of people who feel comfortable while being threatened are up to something.

Clint and Nat walked slowly to either side of the island, surrounding the girl, their weapons never leaving the target.

“I’m going to give you to the count of three,” Steve snarled, his voice low and dangerous, “to tell us who you are and why you’re here.” She continued to ignore him.

“One.” She rolled the pasta, seeming completely at ease and pissing off the super-soldiers and assassins even more.

“Two.” Clint and Nat took another step closer. Steve gripped his shield, readying it—and himself—for a fight.

“Thr–”

“Stop!” Tony came bursting through the doors that led to the stairs on their right, fully clad in his armour and flying at a dangerous speed in such an enclosed space. He came to a stop between the girl and his teammates, gasping for breath as he raised his arms and aimed them at his friends. “Don’t–” he gasped again, trying to get a hold of his breathing. “Don’t shoot.”

The other three Avengers watched him in confusion, but didn’t lower their weapons, still unsure of the invader who continued to cook as if she wasn’t in a life or death situation. 

“She's my daughter.”

Steve’s jaw dropped in shock. His daughter? Tony Stark had a daughter? Why did none of them know?

Clint was in the same state at Steve—complete and utter disbelief—but Nat seemed to digest the absolute bomb of information delivered to them.

She holstered her gun at her thigh, then turned to Tony. “How long have you known?” She asked him, her interrogation voice working its way out, trying to glean every piece of useful information from the billionaire.

Tony hesitated, like he didn’t want to answer. Finally, he sighed. “Since this morning.”

Steve saw Clint wince from the corner of his eye. The man was a father, too. He was probably the only one who could come close to understanding what Tony was going through, and from the looks of his reaction, it was rough. Steve could only guess what finding out you have an adult child would do to a person, but Tony seemed to be taking it alright.

The room was silent for a minute, broken only by the sound of many small things hitting glass, like marbles.

The Avengers all turned back to the girl—having forgotten she was there altogether—to see her bringing another candy to her mouth. When she noticed all the eyes on her, she looked back at them.

“...what?” She appeared confused, but also guilty, almost like she thought she was in trouble but couldn’t figure out why.

Tony— who seemed to have realized just how bad the situation could have been if he hadn’t gotten there in time—shot her an incredulous look. Then he sighed, though it looked like he’d aged years since Steve had last seen him mere days ago.

“Kahlen, this is Steve, Nat and Clint.” He pointed out each person as he said their name, Clint giving the girl—Kahlen—a little wave, accompanied by a smile. “Guys, this is Kahlen, my daughter.” Steve watched her frown at that, but he had no idea what had upset her.

“It’s nice to meet you, Kahlen,” Clint said with a grin. He lowered his bow and arrow and set them on the counter, stepping forward to extend a hand to her. Kahlen took it after staring at him for a few seconds, though she seemed sceptical. She didn’t speak, though, and the room grew awkward in the silence.

“Kahlen,” Tony bit out. “Why didn’t you tell them who you are? They could have shot you!”

They all looked to her, awaiting her response to this and expecting her to be remorseful or guilty for causing her father stress. Steve thought that maybe she’d finally understand how dangerous it was to have ignored them.

But Kahlen just shrugged.

And then she went back to cooking.

None of them could quite hide their incredulity at her audacity, not even Nat. They watched her for a second before Tony managed to shake himself free, noticing for the first time what Kahlen had been doing in the common room.

“Why are you cooking dinner?” 

— — —

Kahlen stopped what she was doing, turning slowly with a baffled expression. He didn’t seem mad, per se, just genuinely confused, but she couldn’t help feeling apprehensive.

“What do you mean?” She asked eventually, her nonchalant act disappearing and being replaced with confusion.

“I was going to order in, that’s what I always do when these guys are out of the tower. So why did you decide to cook?” She considered this, wondering if maybe Stark just didn’t want his friends to think he was a bad parent, or perhaps he planned to restock the kitchen before making her cook so whatever meal she made wouldn’t taste like garbage. At least, that was always Uncle Vernon’s complaint.

“I’m used to it,” she said quietly, realizing only a second too late that this was the worst possible answer she could’ve given them.

All of them stared at her in confusion and concern, even the three who were threatening her not ten minutes ago. She tried to backtrack and cover her mistake before they could really understand what she’d meant.

“I- I mean, I like cooking. I find it relaxing, and since I’m in a foreign country I thought it might help me feel… at home.” She added the last bit with a touch of shyness, hoping to divert their attention away from her screw up and make her seem like a frightened young girl in a new country. Which would be true, if she was actually afraid of any of the people in that room.

It worked. Steve and Natasha both relaxed, while Clint and Stark’s expressions changed to the physical embodiment of ‘awww’, like they were watching a puppy hide from the big dogs.

“Oh,” Tony sighed, his relief evident. “Yeah, of course, that’s fine. You’re allowed to do whatever you want here.” Kahlen doubted that, but she kept her mouth shut. “Alright, uh… we’ll just… leave you to it, I guess. Unless you want any help?” She shook her head vehemently. He deflated a little bit, disappointed, but brushed past it. “Ok then. I think we have to have an Avengers meeting anyway, what with the recent mission and all. Besides, it’s probably best to let everyone else know who you are so we don’t get a repeat of… this.” He gestured to the three still in uniform, who had the good sense to look guilty. 

Kahlen nodded slowly, returning once again to her cooking and breathing a sigh of relief once they were all gone.

— — —

The four superheroes made their way down to the briefing room, asking FRIDAY to have the remaining Avengers called to the meeting on their way. Within ten minutes they were all gathered. 

Tony paced the front of the room, Steve closest to him sitting on one side of the table, followed by Clint, Sam and Wanda. The latter two were watching the man at the front with concern, having been tasked with unloading the Quinjet and therefore completely missing the series of events that had transpired in the common room. Next to Tony’s seat, which sat empty across from Steve, was Rhodey, Nat, then finally Bruce, who’d arrived just in time from a science conference to watch his fellow science bro have what appeared to be a complete mental breakdown.

It was the scientist who finally broke the tense silence, his concern outweighing his lack of social skills.

“Tony…” Bruce said, his voice gentle as he tried to break his friend out of his reverie. “What’s going on?”

He thought he wouldn’t get an answer, as Tony just continued to pace. But after a minute, he stopped, sighed, and sat down.

“I have a daughter.” 

A beat of silence passed, followed by a consistent stream of questions from the Avengers who’d missed the interaction upstairs. Tony allowed the verbal assault until it was out of their system, awaiting the blissful silence that would allow him to actually explain. When it finally arrived, he continued as if he’d not heard any of them.

“Her name is Kahlen Potter. She’s seventeen years old.” Steve’s eyebrows raised in surprise, having pinned her as about twenty. “She’s from England. I had no idea she existed until today.” He’d stated each piece of information as a fact, trying to avoid questions from his colleagues, but the last part caused him to break and allowed a swell of emotion into his tone. “She– she came to find me this morning, to ask for… for me to sign away my parental rights.” His confession was followed by nothing but silence and suffocating pity.

“Why now?” Nat asked, her tone tender, her rough exterior falling away in the presence of the people she considered family. “If she’s seventeen, why wait until now to terminate your rights? Does she have a stepfather?”

“She did.” Everyone tensed, hoping that what he was implying was wrong. “He died, along with her mom, in a car accident when she was one.” His voice broke on the last word, still unable to comprehend that his daughter had been an orphan all these years and he’d had no idea.

The group tried to contain their reactions to the tragedy, for Tony’s sake, but failed. 

Steve, Nat and Sam looked down at the table, their training allowing them a better hold on the horror they felt inside. 

Wanda gasped, her hand covering her mouth and her eyes watering for the girl she didn’t know, but who she felt connected to through their unfortunate histories. At least Wanda had had ten years with her parents; this girl probably held no memories of her own.

Rhodey and Bruce continued to watch Tony in pity and concern, the former of the two reaching out to take his best friend's hand. He’d seen his friend go through a lot, but he’d never seen him more devastated than he was now.

Clint’s reaction was the strongest of them all, the closest to Tony’s. He put on his uniform and walked into danger on a regular basis, yet he couldn’t imagine his children being left without their father. And if, god forbid, they should have to face that terrible fate, they had Laura. Their mother, his perfect wife, would make sure they were loved and cared for, as would his teammates sitting around the table. But Kahlen… the girl had lost both her parents in one go, orphaned before she knew her own name. Clint allowed a tear to fall for the young woman who was so unlucky as to have lost so much at such a young age. 

When Tony managed to recover his strength, he pushed on, determined to tell them everything without breaking down again.

“She, uh… was raised by her aunt and uncle, but they’re moving.” He swallowed back the last of his anguish, mentally preparing himself to deliver the last and second most difficult thing he knew about his daughter. “She wants to be adopted by her godfather. So she’d asked to have my parental rights legally terminated, so she can do that. She… she doesn’t want anything to do with me.”

He’d thought that he would prefer silence over the pitying replies of his friends, but when no words were said Tony couldn’t stand it. He kept going.

“A lot of things seem off though. The school she said she went to? I only found one website with any information, and it was so bare I’m honestly concerned for her education. And the godfather, the one she wants to be adopted by? His name’s Remus Lupin, which seems fake, and may very well be, because I couldn’t find anything about him. No social media, no address, and the most bare government file I’ve ever seen.”

“Hold on,” Sam interrupted and sent a look Tony's way. “Do you mean to tell us that you hacked into the British Government’s secure files to research this guy?”

“Of course,” Tony said, the ‘ well, duh ’ going unsaid but very heard by them all. “And for good reason. I’m worried Kahlen has gotten herself into something dangerous. I want to be able to help her, but I can’t do that until I know what I’m dealing with.”

They all watched him warily. His voice was becoming frantic, almost begging them to agree with him. He took a deep breath and closed his eyes, and when he opened them again he appeared calmer.

“I told her I would sign the papers if she stayed with me for three months. Here. In the tower.” Half the team was shocked by this, the other half remembering the quiet but audacious girl they’d met and imagining spending three months living with her. “She’s upstairs as we speak.”

“Tony–” Rhodey began, his voice calm but reprimanding as he pictured his friend blackmailing the girl into staying with him.

“I know Rhodey, it’s not ideal. But I couldn’t just sign those papers and let her leave without trying to build a relationship with her.” Rhodey tried to speak again, but Tony barely even noticed, his voice rising. “She wants nothing to do with me, but I can’t live my life knowing that I have a daughter and I didn’t even bother trying to get to know her! The version of my life without Kahlen in it is over. It has to be, because I refuse to let her go without doing everything in my power to know her. To be a part of her life.” The sadness was gone now, only angry assurance remaining, colouring his tone and dropping the volume at which he spoke. “I may not have been there for the first seventeen years, but you can be damn sure I’ll be there for the rest of them, until the day I die. I will not be like my father, Rhodey. I can’t. And if that means making a deal to make her stay with me, then that is what I will do.”

They sat still, stunned by his resolve. Tony was breathing heavily, but his gaze was determined, meeting all of their eyes. The other Avengers looked at one another, coming to a decision.

“What can we do to help?” Steve asked, interpreting their silent conversation.

Tony smiled at his friends, his appreciation for their support growing by the second. “For starters, you can help me learn more about her. I think there’s a lovely dinner waiting for us upstairs. Perhaps we ask a few questions while we eat.”

Chapter Text

The silence was suffocating. Ten chewing mouths were doing little to dispel the tension brewing between Tony and Kahlen.

It was a totally different atmosphere than most dinners in the common room. Normally the group would be talking non-stop, shouting over each other just to get a word in, laughing at nothing and everything. 

But not today. Today they ate in silence, sending furtive glances at Kahlen from the corner of their eyes while she pretended not to notice. They tried to discern how she would fit into their dynamic, but her disinterest made it virtually impossible.

Bruce watched Kahlen raise another forkfull to her mouth, quickly as she tried to empty her plate and be rid of them as soon as possible. He then saw Tony staring at his plate with disdain, as if it was the root of all his problems and not an inanimate object. Seeing his friend who would regularly never shut up sitting in silence, Bruce decided he’d had enough.

“This is delicious,” he began, barely above a whisper but he might as well have been screaming for the reactions he got from around the table. Bruce gulped, but he pushed through the awkwardness. “What is it?” He didn’t really direct the question at anyone, but he hoped the others would understand what he was trying to do. 

Thankfully, it worked. No one spoke for a long time, but eventually Kahlen realized she would have to answer.

“Penne Alfredo. And garlic bread.” Kahlen refused to speak more than she had to. She may have agreed to live here for three months, but she hoped to be such a terrible houseguest that Stark would just give up and sign the papers just to be rid of her.

Bruce waited for her to say more, but the way she spoke made it clear that she had no intention of doing so, so he tried to fight back against the tension that already started to creep back in. “Is it homemade?”

“Yes.” Really, she was not working with him at all.

“Well it’s amazing, thank you.” The rest of the Avengers murmured their own gratitudes which were met with a small, infinitesimally slow nod.

And the tension Bruce practically beat back with a sledgehammer settled around them all again, choking a little more life out of the invincible scientist.

It took a few more minutes before another had the courage to speak, but Rhodey tried to make it seem like no time had passed at all.

“Where did you learn to cook like this Kahlen?” She flinched at the use of her name from someone she hadn’t formally met. Despite her hope to stay quiet, her experiences with the Dursleys refused to allow her to ignore a direct question.

“I took a cooking class in school,” she lied, and though normally lying came to her like a second nature, this one fell flat based on the disbelieving looks she received–and ignored, of course.

Clint decided to keep the ball rolling. “Did you ever cook with your aunt and uncle?” He’d thought the question would be a safe one, simple even. The murderous glare Tony gave him told him he was wrong, and this was, in fact, the worst possible thing he could have asked.

Kahlen cleared her throat, doing her best to keep her voice calm and her body relaxed. “Yes,” she replied with an air of ease she didn’t feel, but hoped would be believable. 

Sam noticed the way she seemed to clam up at the question of her aunt and uncle and decided to steer the conversation away from them, hoping for Kahlen to become a more active participant.

“Where did you go to school Kahlen?” He’d remembered Tony’s distress over what little information he had on her education, and while he assumed this to be an easier topic for the girl, he also wanted to know more about this school and maybe find any holes in her story.

“St. Minerva’s Academy. It’s a boarding school in Scotland.” Well Sam already knew that.

He wanted to get just a smidge more out of her, but he didn’t want to freak her out, so he went with something safer. “Any friends there?”

She responded a little better to this, her eyes lighting up and spine relaxing into the chair. 

It had only been a couple of days, but Kahlen missed her friends. The opportunity to talk about them, to feel like they were near her, was too enticing to pass up. Still, she didn’t want Stark to know too much about her, so she stuck to the basics.

“A few. There’s my best mates, Hermione and Ron. I’ve known them since I was eleven.” We fought a mountain troll together. “Hermione is bloody brilliant, and Ron is the most generous person I know. And Ginny, too. She’s Ron’s sister, but we’re pretty close, the same with Ron’s brother George.” I was close with Fred, too, but he’s dead. “And then there’s Luna and Neville. They’re all brilliant, the best friends I could’ve asked for.” She smiled down at her plate as she spoke, twirling her fork around her plate, her mind far away, residing in an ancient castle resting atop a hill. 

When she looked up Kahlen was surprised to find everyone looking at her with their full attention and bright smiles covering their faces. Tony’s was the brightest of all, practically blinding in its brilliance. She felt a blush spread across her cheeks and reprimanded herself.

Silly, Kahlen. You don’t want these people to know you.

Upon realizing she’d noticed his attention Tony blushed, matching her own in its deep scarlet colour. Maybe it’s hereditary, she thought to herself.

She was still beating herself up for the details she’d provided when Sam asked another question. Given that she was stuck in her own messed up head, she didn’t hear a word of it, so she was forced to ask “what?” like an imbecile. 

“I asked; what was your school like?” Kahlen presumed his being forced to repeat the question would give his words a tinge of bitterness and resentment, but Sam just smiled kindly, urging her to take her time.

“Different,” she rushed out. She still couldn’t believe she’d told them so much. She started to panic, her mind screaming at her that it was all too much, that she shouldn’t let them get close to her or they would get hurt, just like everyone else in her life. One would think that she would take into account the abilities of each Avenger, but given that logic had decided to make a sudden disappearance, all she could see behind her eyes were the still faces of Fred, and of Dobby. Sirius’s blank expression as he faded through the Veil. The still, bloody body of Cedric as Voldemort stood over him, laughing, hissing at Kahlen that it was all her fault—

She pushed her seat back abruptly, standing as she struggled to control her breathing but still managing to wrangle her calm facade for the sake of the people around her. “May I be excused?”

Even when on the verge of a panic attack, Kahlen knew better than to assume she was allowed to do anything. The Dursleys had beaten that into her brain.

Tony watched her in surprise, but nodded his assent, so she grabbed her plate from the table and walked as quickly as she could manage into the kitchen. Then she made her way to her room, taking the stairwell at the back of the building to avoid the curious stares of her new housemates.

— — —

Steve and Nat waited until they heard the footsteps disappear to the next floor. When the super soldiers were sure that Kahlen would be out of earshot, they nodded to the others at the table that it was safe to discuss.

“I’ve got to be honest, Stark, she’s the complete opposite of you,” Clint said, drawing all eyes and ears to him as they assumed he’d picked up something that they themselves had not. After waiting a moment to build suspense, Clint broke out in a mischievous grin. “She’s quiet. You never shut up.”

Even Clint knew that he may have fucked up, that maybe it was too soon to be joking, but any debate was settled by the rage simmering in Tony’s eyes. Yeah, he thought. I’m dead.

“You!” Tony hissed.

Clint had the good sense to be a little afraid. Tell the kids I love them, Laura.

“Why the hell did you ask about her aunt and uncle? I told you that was a sore spot!” Clint winced, but still tried to defend himself. Really, the man had no self preservation.

“I forgot! Besides, I didn’t think it was that sore.” He really should have just shut up.

Tony was prepared to tear him a new one, but Sam, ever the therapist, intervened.

“It was a pretty adverse reaction, though, all things considered,” he voiced his thoughts, his forehead clenched as though he were solving an impossible riddle. “I mean, these people raised her. There’s not a lot of options of what they could’ve done to make her resent them so much.” The implications of what he didn’t say were deafening, roaring in Tony’s ears and making them ring with one repeating phrase, looping like a broken record.

She was abused, she was abused, oh god she was ABUSED—

Sam kept going, trying to break Tony from the well of guilt he’d dug himself into. “And did anyone else notice that she hardly ate anything? Or the way she lied about where she learned to cook? It’s all painting a rather depressing picture in my mind.” Tony realized he was right, Kahlen had barely eaten half her plate before she left. 

Wait, no. She didn’t just leave, she asked to leave. It could’ve been some British politeness—she was technically a guest, Tony tried to reason. But even he didn’t believe his own lie.

“You were right about the school, Tony,” Bruce said, turning to the other man and only barely catching the flash of nausea the comment brought to his complexion. “It’s definitely sketchy.”

“Good for me,” Tony sighed sarcastically, his self-deprecating tendencies deciding that now was a good time to show up.

Bruce continued as if he hadn’t heard him. “It seems like she has mixed feelings about it, too. Almost like she never wants to see it again, but would also give anything to be there right now.”

“Maybe she’d give anything to be anywhere I’m not,” Tony grumbled, a bit of anger lacing his words.

“I don’t think that’s it,” Rhodey chimed in, pausing the genius’s train of thought for a moment. “The way she spoke about her friends, I have to assume she enjoyed some of her time at her school, but she definitely had some bad experiences there, too.”

Everyone contemplated this, then returned to their meals in silence once more to mull over the conversation, trying to extract every bit of information from it. 

Steve and Nat had kept quiet the whole time, choosing instead to listen, but now they shared a grim look. And in less than a second, Steve knew that the other soldier had seen the same thing in Kahlen that he had: a veteran. A person–no, a child. A child who had been through hell and came out the other side, maybe not better off but with a hell of a lot more burns and scars. A child who was forced to grow up way too fast, who had seen things and maybe even done things no child should. A young woman who had lost far too much, who understood loss on a level deeper than most others.

With a single look, they knew that Kahlen was not a normal girl. And that she had far too many similarities to the traumatized heroes sitting around the table.

Chapter Text

The next morning, Kahlen found herself awake before the sun made its appearance on the horizon. Although, to be fair she never really slept. It was hard to find rest when all she could see were dead bodies littering the lawn of the school she once called home.

It was hard to do anything these days without triggering some sort of trauma she had. Seven years of fighting a war before learning to drive could do that to you.

She sighed, then forced herself to get up and get dressed. Sleep wasn’t an option so she might as well do something useful. She made her way upstairs, turning to the kitchen only to find someone else already there, a massive breakfast already underway.

The young woman turned from the stove and found Kahlen staring at her. Instead of the scowl she expected, Kahlen was met with a soft smile.

“Hi. We didn’t meet properly yesterday. I’m Wanda.” Her voice had a raspy quality. It was a deeper, throaty sound, probably European. Kahlen found herself at ease because of it, the tension receding a bit from her shoulders.

“Kahlen.” Wanda motioned to the stools behind the island, so Kahlen sat, eyeing the other girl warily. It was odd for her to be on this side of the kitchen, with nothing to do. She felt out of place.

“I know,” Wanda chuckled. “What are you doing up so early?”

She was up because she was haunted by dozens of faces that died for her, plagued by the nightmares that never let her escape unscathed. Of course, she couldn’t say any of that to this perfect stranger, probably wouldn’t even say it to a close friend, so instead she just shrugged. 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Kahlen said simply. “What about you?”

“Same as you, I’m afraid.” Wanda flipped a whole batch of pancakes on the biggest griddle Kahlen had ever seen, then poured two dozen more that sizzled from the heat. The older witch spied the younger eyeing the mountain of pancakes and smiled again. 

“We have a cooking rotation since we all eat together. It’s my day, but super soldiers eat a lot, so I always make way more than necessary. I would’ve started later, but, as we’ve already established, I couldn’t sleep.” She flipped the pancakes, then moved to the island and set out some butter, maple syrup and lemon juice. “Nightmares. I find that cooking relaxes me.”

“Me too,” Kahlen murmured without thinking. When it actually processed, her eyes widened. 

Shit! She just admitted to having nightmares. She never did that. 

She watched for Wanda’s reaction, but the other girl just kept smiling and making pancakes like she hadn’t a care in the world. Kahlen almost would’ve believed she hadn’t heard her reply, but she knew better.

A few minutes passed in a comfortable silence, the most comfortable Kahlen had been in days. Wanda turned to look at her, considered her still wary expression for a moment, and then took a breath.

“We all get nightmares, you know.”

Damn. Kahlen had nearly let herself believe she hadn’t been heard.

“Everyone in the tower does. But we all deal with it differently. Steve, Sam and Nat workout, make their bodies work so their minds can’t. Tony and Bruce are the opposite. They overwork their minds in their labs, occupy their thoughts with everything except what they’re afraid of. Clint makes very good use of his sleepless nights by bothering the rest of us.” The two shared a laugh. Kahlen may not have known these people long, but Wanda had, and her descriptions seemed pretty apt. “And, of course, I cook.”

“What do you have nightmares about?” The question was out of Kahlen’s mouth before she could really think about it. Immediately, she covered her mouth, shock colouring her features.

She hadn’t meant to pry. Merlin knows how upset she would be at someone for asking her that very same question. But for some reason, Wanda put her at ease. And it wasn’t her powers—which Hermione’s extensive research had broken down for her—because Kahlen would've felt the foreign magic trying to take hold. It was just Wanda, her calming smile and gentle voice lulling Kahlen into relaxation.

Kahlen tried to backtrack, not wanting to ruin what little relationship she had with the young woman. “I’m sorry, that was rude. I shouldn’t have asked.”

She expected Wanda to be upset, maybe demand that she leave, but instead she just gave a good natured laugh and waved off the apology.

“It’s not a problem, really. I don’t mind.” Kahlen was still sceptical of this reaction, but she settled in for the story Wanda was clearly preparing to tell. “Did you know I was born in Sokovia? It’s this little country in the middle of Europe, not very important to anyone but those who live there. 

“My parents had me and my twin brother, Pietro. We didn’t have much, but we were happy, my little family and I.” Wanda took on a sad smile, her eyes unfocusing a little as she remembered everything she’d been through. “And then, when I was ten our village was bombed. One shell hit our apartment, and my parents… I lost them.” 

Kahlen noticed the similarities in their histories, and felt sorry that this kind girl had been through something similar. Losing both parents at once should never happen to anyone, especially not someone as open and giving as Wanda seemed to be.

“Pietro and I were terrified. We crawled under our bed when the second shell hit, blinking and beeping inches from our faces. But it never went off. Two days later, we were found. They tried to take us to orphanages, but they were going to separate us. So we ran. We stole what we could, scavenged whatever we could find. It was hard, but… we had each other.”

Kahlen could sense that this was not the end of her story. That something much worse was coming, and she almost wished Wanda wouldn’t tell her. But of course, she did.

“We were seventeen when Hydra found us.”

Kahlen almost growled. She’d read everything there was online about Hydra, learned all she could, and she was enraged that anyone could take part in those horrors. She couldn’t imagine what they’d wanted with seventeen year old twins.

“They told us that we could change the world. That they could give us the tools to take revenge on those who had orphaned us. We were naive, and young, and stupid. And we believed them.” Wanda returned to herself again, still supporting her solemn smile despite the story she was telling. “I won’t bore you with the specifics, but they ran some experiments and we were blessed with abilities.” Kahlen could tell there was a lot more to these ‘experiments’, but she was distracted by a sudden flash of red erupting from Wanda’s fingertips. 

The wisps danced around the girl, following her every direction. Kahlen had seen many beautiful things since learning about the wizarding world, but nothing compared to Wanda’s magic. It wasn’t artificial beauty, made to distract or to harm. It was raw, and it was powerful, and it was real. Kahlen was amazed by it, longed for it when Wanda let it fall away.

“I was given telekinesis, telepathy, matter manipulation… I don’t really know the extent of my gifts.” She shrugged, a small smile dancing on her lips. “I used to resent them. I thought myself a freak, thought my powers were a curse, a burden. But they’re a part of me. And at some point, I decided that I would not allow fear to control me. So I embraced them.

“Pietro’s ability was easier: he was given speed. He was faster than anyone, than anything. Nothing could beat him." Wanda's eyes teared up, swallowing back the sadness welling up inside her. "But he wasn’t fast enough.”

Kahlen held her breath, hoping that her implications were wrong, that Wanda hadn’t lost the only thing she cared about.

“We realized that Hydra was not who we wanted to be aligned with. We made some mistakes. Some pretty big mistakes, actually. But after many bad decisions, we finally made a good one: we joined the Avengers. We helped them defeat Ultron. But Pietro… Pietro died.” Kahlen gasped, overwhelmed with sympathy. “He gave his life for a little boy. I couldn’t be prouder of him.” 

Wanda teared up then, still awed by her brother's selflessness. He’d always protected her, their whole lives. But he’d left her to give a young boy a chance to live. And she forgave him, because she knew he was still with her.

She choked back the tears, trying to finish her story. “I was lost for a while. But the Avengers were there for me, all of them. They’re my family now. And I love them.” She reached across the island to take Kahlen’s hand. Kahlen almost flinched away, but she allowed herself to be touched, still feeling relaxed around this very special human being.

“My parents, my brother… they meant the world to me. And I will always love them. It took a while, but I realized that they would want me to be happy. They loved me enough to want that for me.” She squeezed Kahlen’s hand a little, making her crystal intentions even clearer. “They would want me to live my life. For myself, and for them.” With that, Wanda went back to her pancakes, allowing Kahlen some time to digest what she’d heard.

She knew that the girl had been through a lot (it seemed like a requirement to join the superhero team), but Kahlen never could have imagined the whole story. She was amazed by Wanda’s strength, at the way she lived her life despite what she’d been through, and Kahlen found herself wondering, What’s wrong with me?

What was it about her that forced her to stay stuck in grief and guilt while everyone else could move on? Why couldn’t she learn to let go?

“What do you remember about your parents?” Wanda interrupted her internal struggle with the question, seemingly for no reason. “I don’t mean to be nosy, but I just wonder what parts of them have stuck with you.”

Kahlen considered this for a moment, and was surprised to find that she didn’t mind being asked the question. Not by Wanda.

“I don’t remember much. Nothing specific. Just… flashes. Images, barely even memories. I remember… the colour of my mother’s hair shimmering in the sunlight. And the sound of my father’s laughter.” 

The girls thought of their own lives, of the unusual connections they shared through their unfortunate experiences.

“I know we’re not your family,” Wanda said, her voice barely rising above a whisper, her accent growing thicker. “But we would like to get to know you, if you’ll let us.” She smiled again, far brighter than someone who’d endured so much tragedy should be able to. Kahlen smiled back, grateful for the bit of guidance and sense of familiarity that Wanda had provided.

With that, Wanda stood and walked away, taking the elevator and leaving Kahlen in lonely silence.

She’d planned to ignore everyone as much as possible, maybe annoy them into kicking her out so she could get her forms signed. But three months was a long time to be away from her loved ones with little social interaction. Maybe it wouldn’t hurt to let these heroes in a little.

Kahlen smirked. 

It was time to let her silent act fall away.

Chapter Text

Steve made his way through Central Park, his feet pounding the paved trails, ignoring the awed looks he received from other joggers.

Since thawing out a few years earlier, he’d made a habit of his morning run, to give him a sense of familiarity. The cold morning air, the dim light of dawn, the beating of his heart and heaviness of his breaths all merged together, bringing him back to Camp Lehigh. He could practically hear the drill sergeant, his shrill voice commanding they run until they drop.

It wasn’t a better time, exactly. There were a lot of things he enjoyed about his life now, and a lot of things he didn’t miss from 1942. But back then he hadn’t been alone.

He’d had Peggy. A woman as beautiful as she was brilliant and brave, more selfless than anyone he’d ever met. She hadn’t taken shit from anyone, and he’d always admired her for it. He missed her now, though he cherished his time with her, was grateful for the chance he was given to see her again, to tell her he survived and to find closure with her. His last conversation with her still ran through his mind from time to time.

“I’ve lived a long life Steve,” she said. “Had a husband, children. True happiness. My only regret is that you didn’t get the same.”

Steve smiled, his strong hands encircling her withered ones, their feeble strength slipping away by the minute. “I am happy, Peg. I’m happy that I got to see you again.”

“I can see it in your eyes,” she contradicted him, her small hands patting his arm. “You’re stuck in the past.” He tried to speak, to tell her she was wrong, but Peggy silenced him with a look. She always had that ability with him; decades under the ice did nothing to change that. “You think you’ve lost everything. That your life ended when that plane went down. But your sadness, your longing for the past… it’s blinded you to all the things you have. Don’t take them for granted.” 

She hauled herself up to a sitting position, her breaths unsteady. Steve reached out to help her, which she refused with a piercing glare, earning a chuckle from the man. When she managed to meet his eye level, she pulled him close.

“You’ve been given a second chance, Steve. Take it. Live your life. Be happy.”

Two months ago, he lost her again. And he’d been trying to follow her instructions ever since.

Shortly after, he’d found Bucky. The real Bucky. The one that stayed with him when he was sick and took care of him after his mom died. The Bucky who got him out of more fights than he could remember, who had fought with him during the war.

Only he was accused of attacking the UN.

Steve had rushed to his aid, while Tony had tried bringing them in, his guilt pressuring him to force restrictions on the team. It had taken a lot of arguing —and a particularly difficult fight at an airport— for them to come to an agreement on the Sokovia Accords. And despite The Winter Soldier’s role in the death of Tony’s parents, he had understood that it wasn’t Bucky’s fault, and had ended up as Bucky’s strongest advocator, forcing the UN to allow Bucky treatment in Wakanda as opposed to imprisonment. 

Steve was grateful for Tony’s help, and they agreed that the accords were not the way to go. Surprisingly, there was no tension between them, their apologies both given and accepted and their energies being put toward strengthening their team rather than dividing it.

Steve made it back to the tower, sweat rolling down his back as he greeted the familiar faces on his way to the elevator.

“Common room, please, Fri,” he requested, feeling the elevator beneath his feet, just the smallest movement, barely detectable. He was still awed by the technology in every square inch of the tower, baffled by the fact that he got to live here when he spent his childhood in a decrepit little home, sick every other week with not a penny to his name. Tony’s generosity never failed to amaze him.

When he arrived at the right floor he stepped out of the elevator, pulling his sweaty shirt over his head. It was still early, the sun was barely peeking out behind the buildings, so he didn’t expect anyone to be awake, much less in the common room. He walked to the kitchen, mentally locating the things he’d need for a smoothie and cereal —he’d never been the most experienced cook— but froze, finally noticing the other presence in the room.

“H-hey, uh… hey Kahlen,” Steve stuttered, blushing as he noticed his naked torso and hurrying to put his shirt back on, sweat be damned.

He watched her swivel around on a stool, her long hair falling over her shoulder in loose curls. He hadn’t noticed the night before how rich the chocolate waves were, having mistaken them for black in the dim light.

“Hey Cap.” Kahlen smirked at his chastity, deepening the soldiers' blush further. “Nice shirt. It’s nice to know all those muscles are put to good use,” she added, laughing at Steve’s shocked expression.

“What, uh… what are you doing here?” Steve tried to pull himself together, just realizing how early it was for Kahlen to be awake, seemingly for no reason.

She seemed confused, her head tilted slightly down and her emerald eyes peeking up at him from underneath her furrowed brows. “What do you mean? Mr. Stark said I could stay here. Did… did he kick me out?” She frowned, pouting a little as her eyes began to well up.

“No!” Steve’s eyes widened. Had he somehow ruined Tony’s chance to know his daughter? “No, of course not, that’s not what I– oh, god–” he stopped when he noticed Kahlen dissolving into a fit of laughter.

Oh. She was toying with him.

Steve would’ve been more mad, but he found it impossible while watching her smile. It was radiant, lighting up her entire face, her eyes alight with pure joy and a little mischief. He found himself smiling with her, wanting to keep the smile on her face for as long as possible. All too soon, it was gone, replaced with a smirk. Still beautiful, but not as raw as before.

“So, uh… how long have you been alone?” Steve thought it was an easy conversation starter, but Kahlen rolled her eyes at it.

“I’m not five, Captain. I can be left alone for a few minutes without endangering myself.” Her words should’ve been sniping, but Steve could tell there was a playful quality in the words. 

He couldn’t help but admire her accent. It was gentle, more airy than Wanda’s accent, and the way she used it made all who heard it helpless but to listen. He found that he didn’t mind.

“Of course not,” Steve responded, finally relaxing a little. He smiled at her. “So what are you doing up so early?” He frowned at the pile of pancakes behind her. “Did you make breakfast? We have a system, you know.”

Kahlen chuckled at his accusing tone. “I know. But I didn’t make this, Wanda did.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond, enjoying the flow of their conversation, but he was cut off by Clint strutting into the room. When he saw the pancakes his eyes lit up like a kid on Christmas and he brushed past Steve and Kahlen like they weren’t even there. Satisfied with the many pancakes on his plate drowning in maple syrup, he looked up to find he had an audience.

“Oh. Hey.” He looked down at the pancakes then back at Kahlen. “Did you make this? Because we have a system, we don’t need you messing it up,” he said, pointing his fork at her accusingly, mouth still full of the offending food.

Steve cringed, expecting a negative reaction from the girl, but she just looked at Clint.

“I know. I have been informed several times, but don’t worry. Wanda made it, I’m just enjoying it.”

Clint choked on his food, hardly expecting a response with so much sass behind it. He gave her an incredulous look then broke out in a grin.

“She speaks!” He laughed, then put his plate on the island and swung his arm over Kahlen’s shoulder. Steve frowned at the motion, unsure of the emotion bubbling up inside him. “Tell me Kahlen, any plans for today?"

“Obviously not,” she snorted, “I wasn’t planning on being in town for more than a day or two.” Despite the circumstances of her extended stay, Kahlen didn’t seem too upset about it.

“Great. We’re going sightseeing,” Clint declared.

“Sure. I’ve never been to America before. Well, not really.” She didn’t think camping in obscure locations while looking for the shredded soul of an evil wizard counted as visiting.

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, brows furrowed. Kahlen just shrugged, so Clint continued.

“Okay, meet here in fifteen minutes. Cap, you in?”

“Sure,” Steve nodded. “I’ve never actually seen any tourist attractions in New York.” Clint’s jaw dropped, appalled by his answer.

“You are the embodiment of the American way, and you’ve never seen New York?!” Clint yelled with fake outrage. “New plan, be ready in ten minutes because we need to rectify this immediately!” 

— — —

Six hours later the trio had seen Rockefeller Centre, the Met and the Empire State Building, and were on their way back from the Museum of Natural History. Kahlen had a cone of vanilla ice cream in her hand, Steve was sporting chocolate, and Clint had decided to be a maniac and order mint.

“Y’know,” Clint started, “I’m surprised they let us leave with one of the artifacts.” Steve spun on him, thinking that Clint had somehow swiped a fossil or something and was already dreading the PR issues when he noticed Kahlen laughing. She saw his confused expression and leaned close.

“He means you,” she stage-whispered, followed by another laugh at his expense. Steve smiled at her despite being laughed at. He’d known her less than a day, yet he knew she wasn’t laughing out of malice. She was just enjoying herself, which seemed like a rarity for her, so Steve cherished the laughter.

— — —

They walked back to the tower with an easy conversation flowing between the three of them, no serious topics brought into the mix. Kahlen had enjoyed her day, surprised by how much she liked spending time with these people. Of course, the universe could never let her have a day where nothing goes wrong.

Seconds from entering the tower they were met with a woman and her daughter, about six years old. Steve and Clint were a little exasperated, having been able to go the whole day without being recognized, but the little girl was looking up at Kahlen with wonder, a pen and paper clutched to her chest.

“E-excuse me?” The little girl asked, her voice quiet with a touch of a lisp. “Are you Kahlen Potter?”

Shit. Kahlen internally groaned, but smiled for the kid. The men behind her shared an incredulous look, completely baffled by the direction the encounter was going.

It was obvious that the girl and her mother were witches. Only those with magic could see her scar when she had it glamoured, and even then it took a keen eye.

Kahlen knelt down to the little girl’s eye level. She may hate being famous, but she would never hurt a child’s feelings by snuffing them.

“Yes I am. What can I do for you, miss…?”

“Oakley. Stacy Oakley,” she giggled. “I’m a huge fan.Would you sign this for me please? If it’s not too much trouble, of course.”

Kahlen smiled at Stacy’s politeness, nodding and reaching for the paper and pen, all while ignoring the very confused looks she knew she was receiving from the men behind her.

While she wrote, Stacy leaned closer. “I really like your scar,” she whispered, in the way that a child does; with way too much volume.

Kahlen winced, praying that Steve and Clint hadn’t heard her but knowing that was impossible.

“Thanks Stacy,” she whispered back. She finished with the paper and handed it back, smiling at the bubbly excitement exuding from the girl. “Have a good day,” she said, directed at both the girl and her mother, who also looked a little starstruck.

“Thank you so much,” the woman said, echoed by Stacy as Kahlen made her way into the tower, followed closely by a very concerned Steve and Clint. They held their questions for all of two seconds before they stopped Kahlen by the arm and spun her around.

“Okay, what the hell was that?” Clint asked, his eyes wide and unable to comprehend what just happened. Steve had a similar expression, though he seemed to be a little suspicious. Of what, Kahlen couldn’t be sure.

“What was what?” She decided to play innocent, using the same look she’d used on Steve earlier and smirking as she entered the elevator. The men considered her answer for a minute, but decided to drop it when it became clear she wouldn’t be telling them.

They made their ascent in silence, but Clint couldn’t handle that.

“Next time,” he said as the elevator doors opened, “we’ll take the Staten Island Ferry to see the Statue of Liberty.” Steve and Kahlen chuckled, the latter just grateful to have the attention off of her.

They stepped out of the elevator only to find a livid Tony in their path, arms crossed and glaring.

“I think next time will have to wait a while.”

Chapter Text

“What the hell were you thinking! Are you out of your minds?!” Tony berated the three of them, though more so his teammates than his newfound daughter. Still, the shouted words made Kahlen flinch, anticipating a hit that would never come.

“She needed some air Tony,” Clint rebutted, his tone matching Tony’s but at a lower volume for now. “Besides, she’d never been to New York before, so we–”

“That doesn’t matter!” Tony fixed Clint with a murderous glare, advancing on him slowly. “Anyone could have seen you, since you weren’t wearing disguises. And what happens when they start rumours about Kahlen? That is the last thing we need! The press all over us, hounding the tower and demanding to know who she is. I will not let her be forced to tell the world who she is!”

Clint held his ground. “I get that you’re trying to protect her, Tony, but she can’t just stay here for the next three months!” His voice was starting to raise, the tense atmosphere feeding into his emotions.

As Tony made his rebuke, Steve sighed. They may be a family, but fighting was pretty normal around the tower. This, however, was a step above the petty anger of “Who ate my M&M’s?!”

He turned to Kahlen only to find her hunched in on herself, her deathly pale face staring miserably at her feet, like she was trying to be as small and insignificant as possible to avoid detection. She couldn’t look further from the happy confident girl she’d been just minutes ago.

It broke his heart, because he knew that stance. The small form of someone trying desperately to be passed over by angry people. Someone who is afraid of raised voices because those same voices have caused them pain. Steve knew what that was like. 

He noticed her start to shake a little, which she tried to hide by crossing her arms over her stomach, but it only served to break his heart even more.

It seemed that Tony and Clint weren’t going to stop any time soon —in fact they were just getting warmed up— so Steve nudged Kahlen gently with his elbow. On the third try, her wide, panicked eyes shot to the side to find his. When he had her attention he nodded his head to the door leading to the stairwell. She gave him a questioning look, like she thought they would get in trouble for slipping out, but his eyes asked her to trust him. And she did.

They quietly made their way to the door and slipped out of the room. Kahlen started toward the stairs going down but he caught her arm with barely any pressure so she knew he wasn’t restraining her, and led her up to the roof.

— — —

Steve opened the door for Kahlen, allowing her to step through and marvel at the view.

It was spectacular. The buildings reaching for the sky, filled with people going about their everyday lives. The midday sun beating down on them from its place high in the sky, giving life to all who bask in its glory. The throngs of people littering the streets, moving like a well oiled machine, everyone with their own destinations.

It made her feel insignificant. To most that would be a depressing thought, but to her, insignificant was the best thing to be. Significance; that was the real disease.

Kahlen’s feet found the edge of the roof, her hands grasping at the guard rails as she took it all in. She sighed the remaining tension out of her body, allowing the cool fresh air to wash away the last remnants of memories she’d been drowning in. She took in a deep breath, closing her eyes and reminding herself of where she was.

You’re in America. You’re not with the Dursleys. 

You’re safe.

She let the breath back out.

When she opened her eyes, a small smile made its way onto her face. She heard the footsteps at the same time she remembered why she was on the roof in the first place.

“Are you alright?” Steve walked slowly to stand beside her, his arms resting on the rails to match hers. Kahlen turned to her left and found him looking down at her with concern.

“I’m fine,” she lied. Had she put more effort into it he might’ve believed her, but as it was he eyed her with suspicion. Regardless, he did nothing when she turned back to face the city. She could feel him watching her for a minute, but she ignored him so he turned his gaze outwards instead.

They stood in comfortable silence as hundreds of cars passed below.

“Did you know I was always sick as a kid?”

The question threw Kahlen off.

“You? I find that hard to believe, with all your…” she trailed off but gestured to his biceps, making them both smile.

“It’s true. Before the serum I was a scrawny little kid, always bedridden.” The smile on his face disappeared, much to Kahlen’s concern. “My father… he was not a good man. He was angry that I wasn’t healthy, and, uh… he took it out on my mom.”

He took a minute to gather his thoughts, then continued.

“He blamed her. For my illness. Thought it was her fault, that she’d cheated on him, because he never could have fathered such a disappointment.” He spoke of his father with disdain, though Kahlen couldn't blame him for it. She understood adults that let you down.

“He would get drunk at the pubs, spending money we didn’t have. And then he’d come home to his sick son and he would be angry. So, so angry.” Steve sucked in a shaky breath. “I still remember sitting in my room, desperately trying to hold in the coughs that I knew would make him angrier to hear. I was so afraid I used to hide under my bed when he started yelling outside my room. And then… he would hit her. My mom.” Kahlen dropped her gaze to his hands as they began to shake. She reached out and took them, trying to provide him the support she wished he didn’t need. His face showed no recognition of her action, but his hand squeezed hers. “She never fought back. Knew that if she did he would just move on to me, and she wouldn’t let that happen.” Kahlen had obviously never met Mrs. Rogers, but god damn did she love the woman.

“Eventually, he left for the pub. And he never came back.” He seemed to shake out of his bad memories. 

“I never missed him. Everyone says a boy needs a father, but… I didn’t. I had my mom.” He smiled down at their entwined hands. “She raised me. She taught me how to be a man, to be better than my father. She showed me how to fight for the little guy.”

His confession moved Kahlen, made her feel a connection to the man out of time. As minutes of quiet ticked by, she felt compelled to make him feel comfortable, for him to know he wasn’t alone. Somehow, the lock she kept on her past traumas unlocked for him.

“My aunt and uncle were bad people,” she rushed out, using what little confidence she could find to keep herself from chickening out. Steve looked at her, his silence giving her the space to continue if that’s what she wanted. She sighed, then tried to filter the real story so she didn’t scare him away.

“They were always yelling at me, gave me a lot of chores and made me cook most of their meals. They liked to make me well aware that I was not wanted, never talked to me about my parents except to tell me they were screw ups. They blamed my parents for dying, because it stuck them with me.” She rolled her eyes to dispel the unease she felt, but dropped them back to the streets, unable to meet Steve’s eyes. She worried he would be angry at her for not fighting back, or worse, think she deserved it.

“When I left for school,” she continued, clearing her throat, “it felt like I was free for the first time. It was my safe place, my real home. It wasn’t perfect, but at least no one there was banging on my cupboard door at 6 in the morning to make breakfast,” she joked, laughing a little in the awkward silence that followed.

Realizing that Steve didn’t laugh with her, she turned to look at him. She found him looking back at her, face contorted with a fierce rage burning behind his eyes that could rival Hermione’s. His reaction confused her.

What did I say? She thought with a frown. Is he upset that I got away from them? Does he think I deserved living with the Dursleys? The thought saddened her, but she found herself unable to be surprised.

It figured that she would end up living with more people that hated her.

When he opened his mouth she prepared herself to be yelled at, to be told she was worthless. She almost wished that was the case when she heard him speak.

“What do you mean your cupboard?” He seethed, his hands tightening on hers.

Oh.

Oh.

Fuck.

Chapter Text

“I… I-I mean– I didn't–” Kahlen tried to backtrack, her mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. 

Honestly, she’d rather be the fish.

Her lack of an answer only aggravated Steve more, his hands continuing to tighten around hers. She winced, causing a look of guilt to flash across his face as he released her hands, having not known he’d been hurting her. Still, the rage was twisting his features, forcing an answer out of her.

Could she have used magic? Yes. She probably could have, and would have if it had been almost anyone else. But it felt wrong to mess with Steve’s mind; he’d shared his difficult past with her, opened up to a virtual stranger to show that he trusted her. Didn’t he deserve the same from her?

She sighed, resigning herself to the corner she’d backed herself into.

“Until I was twelve, my bedroom was actually a cupboard under the stairs,” she murmured, half hoping he wouldn’t hear her. Of course, he did hear her, and he got even angrier.

Seriously, make up your mind. Do you want the truth or not?

“Who knows?” He bit out, jaw clenching furiously.

“No one here,” she said, continuing before he could protest like he so clearly wanted to. “And you can’t tell anyone, least of all Tony.”

“He’s your father, he deserved to know you’ve been abus–”

“No! He deserves nothing! Least of all the right to be angry on my behalf for things that happened before he even met me.” She was angry too now, but did her best to reign it in at Steve’s displeased and irritated reaction.

“Look,” she said slowly. “Tony is a very powerful man. I don’t doubt that he would want to make  my ex-guardians pay for their actions. But I will not condone violence on my behalf, regardless of what they’ve done.”

“He could control himself. Bring them to justice legally,” Steve rebuked, though his voice was unsure. Even he didn’t believe that, but Kahlen tried to humour him.

“Maybe. But I’m not willing to risk it. So please, just… promise me you’ll keep this to yourself.” He started to protest, so Kahlen revised her request. “Just until I’m ready to tell him myself.”

He still seemed on the fence, his loyalty to his friend warring with his wanting Kahlen to trust him.

“Please,” she added quietly, reaching slowly for his hand again but he pulled it away. It hurt Kahlen’s feelings, but she didn’t hold it against him. She knew he probably wanted nothing to do with someone so messed up.

“Fine,” he said finally, though he was clearly still upset at her resolute silence shrouding her past from the others.

She breathed a sigh of relief. Thank god, she thought. Merlin knows what Stark would do to the Dursleys if he ever found out.

“I need to go,” Steve said, turning on his heel and stalking to the stairs. “I have to punch something,” he added quietly, though Kahlen heard him anyway.

When the door shut loudly behind him she groaned into her hands.

How was it that she could ruin just about anything? It seemed to be her specialty.

— — —

Kahlen skipped dinner that night, hoping to avoid Steve for as long as possible. Logically, she knew avoidance was never the answer, but at the moment she didn’t care. Logic was worthless in the face of mortification.

She spent about an hour just laying on her bed before the boredom overwhelmed her. Casting a silencio charm around her, Kahlen sat up and pulled her phone out, her fingers finding Hermione’s contact. It rang so long she almost thought her friend wouldn’t pick up, but eventually her face smiled through the screen.

“Hey Kahlen!” Hermione waved a little, sitting next to Ron who wore an equally large smile.

The sight of her friends she’d already been missing more than she could bear, sitting up against each other with their hands intertwined, brought a huge smile to her face. They’d only been together a few months but already Kahlen knew they would end up together. Hell, she knew since fourth year, when Ron was being a fucking git and made Hermione cry at the Yule Ball.

Kahlen had given him shit for it of course, but she knew then that they were perfect for each other, if they would just figure it out for themselves.

Since the Battle of Hogwarts, Kahlen had never seen them happier. It was one of the only bright spots in her life.

“Hey guys,” Kahlen chuckled. “How are you? What have I missed?”

“Not much,” Ron shrugged, but Hermione elbowed him in the ribs, eliciting a yelp of pain from Ron and a grin from Kahlen.

“Don’t be an arse, Ronald.” Hermione rolled her eyes, but her smile never left her face. She turned back to the phone, excitement exuding from her. “George asked Angelina out!”

Kahlen’s mouth fell open. “You’re kidding! He finally did it? What did she say?”

George was the closest thing Kahlen had to a brother, besides Ron of course. He’d been crushed after they lost Fred, and none of them remotely blamed him. Still, they were all hoping he would find solace with the woman he hadn’t shut up about for three years.

“She said yes, and then she smacked him for waiting so long.” They all laughed, knowing just how strong willed the former chaser could be.

“Bloody hell, I can’t believe I missed that,” Kahlen said laughingly, but the truth of the statement erased the smile from her face. “I feel so far away from you guys.”

“Aw Kallie, we understand. This is important for you.” Ron’s statement was accompanied by a sympathetic nod from Hermione.

“But I have a feeling something else is the reason for the ugly frown on your face,” Hermione shot her a knowing look.

“Ouch, ‘Mione,” Kahlen laughed again, “you know just where to hit me.” Neither of her friends filled the following silence, so Kahlen sighed. “It’s just… I hate lying,” she admitted.

“You know you can tell him, right? He is your father, the Ministry allows muggle parents to know,” Ron informed her, as if she wasn’t already aware.

“I know, but I don’t want to. I just want to get those papers signed, so I can come home. And I’d like to do it without having to tell Stark anything.” Her friends frowned. They often knew her better than she knew herself, but she hoped they would respect her wishes.

Of course, they didn’t, because what good friend would?

“Kallie, he won’t be like the Dursleys.” And there it was. The truth behind her distaste towards Stark. Even she hadn’t quite figured it out yet, but when Hermione said it everything clicked into place. 

“I didn’t say—” Kahlen tried to defend herself, but Ron was having none of it.

“You didn’t have to say it Kahlen, it’s written all over your face.” He sounded exasperated, though Kahlen supposed that was normal, since he was always dealing with her drama. “But ‘Mione is right. I know we’ll never really know what you went through with them,” he said, making Kahlen look away. She loathed being different from everyone she’d ever met. “But Tony Stark is not Vernon Dursley. Who knows, maybe you’d actually like him, if you gave him a chance.”

Before Kahlen could respond there was a faint knock on her door. She removed the silencing charm, calling out, “Yes?”

“Can I talk to you?” Stark’s muffled voice came from the other side of the expensive wood. She had no idea why he’d asked —he literally owned the building— but she called out the affirmative anyways, saying a quick goodbye to her friends and hanging up.

“Hey,” Tony spoke quietly, pushing the door open and closing it gently behind him. “You okay? We missed you at dinner.”

“Wasn’t hungry,” she shrugged. She watched him take a deep breath, waiting for him to break the silence. She was still wary of him, since the whole ‘leaving the tower’ debacle.

“Look,” Stark sighed, taking a few steps into the room to close the physical distance between them, though it did nothing for the emotional distance. “I’m sorry. About earlier. I shouldn’t have yelled at you, at any of you.” Kahlen was taken aback. He was apologizing? “I was just worried, I didn’t– I don’t want you to be known as my daughter until you decide to be. I was in the spotlight my whole life, and I don’t want that for you.” It was too late for that. 

It’s the thought that counts, I guess.

“Thank you,” Kahlen said. She didn’t know what else there was to say. 

Tony pointed to the end of her bed, raising his eyebrow in a silent question. Kahlen considered denying him, but she didn’t want to make things worse, so she nodded slowly and pulled her legs up to her chest to make room. He accepted the invitation, sitting on the edge of her bed.

“Do you… Would you consider spending some time with me?” He seemed nervous to ask, like he expected to be immediately turned down. Kahlen was a little stunned, allowing Tony’s nerves to keep him talking. “You don’t have to, of course, I just thought maybe you would want to… I don’t know, spend time in my lab? Or if that doesn’t interest you we could see a movie, or go sightseeing, or—” 

“Your lab sounds fun,” Kahlen cut him off, smiling softly. Something about the way he seemed determined to leave it up to her made her want to accept his offer even more. If she had any doubt about her decision, Tony’s relieved grin dispelled it immediately. “Technology isn’t my strong suit, but I’d like to see what you do.”

“Okay! Great! I’ll, uh… I’ll see you tomorrow?” He got to his feet, stepping lighter than when he’d arrived. Kahlen nodded, more eagerly than she thought she was, but finding that she truly was excited to learn what Tony did all day.

“Yeah,” she said. “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Chapter Text

It had been a week since Kahlen had last spoken to Steve. Surprisingly though, she wasn’t the one doing the avoiding. Every time she walked into a room Steve would make a hasty retreat, muttering a quiet “Hello”. He may be snubbing her, but Merlin he was polite.

She couldn’t say it didn’t hurt, because of course it did. But to be honest, she really didn’t have a huge desire to speak to him either. She liked how they had been that day they went sightseeing, laughing together, each with their own personal, private traumas. But the minute they shared, it all went to shit. She knew they would probably never have that easy going conversation and relaxation around each other again, and that was fine, she could handle that.

What she couldn’t handle was the pity she was sure to receive if Steve ever got over his mood.

So for the sake of her dignity, she chose to forget about Steve.

Instead, she spent her time with Wanda or in Tony’s lab while he worked. It was a bit rocky at first, since both of them were nervous to find out whether they actually got along, but the atmosphere of his lab seemed to relax Tony. He showed her around the large expanse of technology and mechanics, excitedly moving from one project to the next and trying to dumb down the science of it for Kahlen to understand. She barely understood any of it, but she appreciated his efforts anyway.

Most of their time in the lab after that was spent in silence, her reading while Tony worked on some project. It was a comfortable quietness, enjoying each other's company while doing their own things. Occasionally Tony would walk over to where she sat, reading some books on charms and transfiguration that Hermione had packed for her and insisted she read, because, in her words, “You cannot ignore your studies just because you refuse to go back for your seventh year!”

Kahlen had no interest in incurring her wrath, so she read the books. 

The issue was that the books were written in dead languages. Latin, ancient Greek, Sanskrit; wizards were not the best with progression. She’d learned these languages in school, so it wasn’t reading that was the problem. It was that Tony would surely be suspicious if he saw her reading thousand year old leather bound books written in a dead language.

Luckily, she happened to be quite proficient at glamouring charms. To Tony, she just appeared to be reading romance novels, which sent him back to his work in record time.

The two were enjoying each others company —Kahlen on her stool by the door reading about healing charms and Tony behind a wall of machinery that he claimed “just need a bit of tweaking”— when a boy came bounding into the room unannounced, a mop of curly brown hair bouncing with his excitement.

“Mr. Stark, you’re never going to believe this.” Kahlen looked up from her book, startled. The boy couldn’t be older than fifteen, though even that seemed unlikely, and he had access to Tony Stark’s personal lab? “I was working on a miniature Iron Man suit for Robotics Club, and I think I figured out how… to…” The boy trailed off, having just noticed Kahlen was sitting there. 

“Um… hi,” he said, giving her a little wave, his head tilted a little like a curious puppy with a cautious smile on his face. “I’m Peter.”

“Peter?” Tony came out from behind his mountain of technology, wiping his grease covered hands on a towel. “What are you doing here, buddy?”

The boy —Peter, she reminded herself— broke into a grin at the sight of the man. “It’s a lab day Mr. Stark,” he laughed. Tony pulled the kid into a quick hug, then ruffled his hair, causing him to swat at the scientist's hands. He fixed his hair with an attempted scowl on his face, but it was about as threatening as an angry bunny.

Kahlen watched the exchange, a soft smile on her face. It was nice to see Tony so relaxed.

Tony released the kid with a wide grin on his face, then froze, noticing Kahlen watching them. 

“Oh. Um… sorry. Kahlen, this is Peter Parker.” Peter waved again, though this time he was much more enthusiastic. Tony’s calmness at Kahlen’s presence seemed to put him at ease. “Peter, this is Kahlen, my… uh–”

“I’m his daughter,” Kahlen supplied, reaching her hand out to take Peter's. Instead, she received a dropped jaw, followed by the most intense contained excitement she’d ever seen. Tony’s reaction was surprisingly similar; a look of pure shock and then one beaming with pride and elation, which she did her best to ignore.

“No way! That’s awesome!” The barely contained glee from Peter burst through, allowing him to speak faster than Kahlen thought possible. “Mr. Stark, why didn’t you tell me?” A guilty Tony tried to answer but Peter gave him no opportunity. “Are you staying at the tower? And wait, who’s the mom? I mean, who’s your mom? Where is she?”

Kahlen noticed Tony tensing, anticipating a bad reaction on her part from all the questioning, but she just gave a good natured laugh. The kid reminded her of Hermione, the way he asked questions without waiting for an answer and talked so fast no one could understand what he was saying. She liked him immediately.

“Yes I’m staying at the tower, he didn’t tell you because neither of us knew, and my mom was Lily Potter, and she and my adopted father are buried in England.” She answered the questions that same way she would Hermione’s, somehow managing to widen Peter’s already impossibly wide smile further. It started to fall, though, when he thought about what she’d said. 

“I’m sorry for your loss.”

Funny. Normally she’d clobber anyone who tried to offer her sympathies when they didn’t even know who she was mourning, but from Peter it seemed genuine. She appreciated it, which surprised her more than she expected.

“Thank you, but it was a long time ago.” She always tried to downplay her loss. She didn’t like the pity that accompanied the truth.

“Doesn’t mean it doesn’t still hurt,” Peter said with a shrug. “I lost my parents when I was six, but I still miss them sometimes. I had my aunt and uncle though, and then my uncle died, but my aunt is amazing, she always knows what I need,” he rambled. “Did you have someone like that? Someone who took care of you?”

It was such an innocent question. There was so much hope in his eyes, like he believed that everyone deserved the support he’d had, that it’s just a given. Obviously Peter was a smart kid —that much was clear— but he chose to believe in people, to believe they’re good. And who was Kahlen to destroy that belief?

Her smile became less genuine but never left her face. “I stayed with my aunt and uncle, too. And I had a lot of really good friends at my school.”

Tony grimaced at the mention of Kahlen’s guardians. “Hey Underoos, why don’t you tell me about that project you’re working on. You said it’s a mini Iron Man suit?” His masterful topic change worked like a charm, starting the kid on a tangent he would not be distracted from for a second time. Tony guided Peter deeper into the lab, sending a smile Kahlen’s way as he went and receiving one back.

As Kahlen watched the two interacting, she had to wonder about their relationship. Tony clearly wasn’t Peter’s father; Peter had said as much, when he told her about his parents. And by the same token, he wasn’t the kids' guardian either. But something about the way they spoke and laughed, the easygoing manner with which they interacted, it all suggested a more meaningful relationship than the mentor/mentee dynamic one would expect.

— — —

Kahlen left the geniuses to their lab time after another hour of reading and listening to them talk about things she couldn’t begin to understand. Rather than shatter her mind, she chose to slip out of the room and made her way to the common room to start making dinner.

After being told —repeatedly— that they had a very precarious schedule that was not to be messed with, Kahlen had insisted she be added to it. There were protests, but she was adamant, and they eventually agreed. Tonight was her responsibility, and she wanted to make something a bit ambitious. 

A half hour of brainstorming, researching and revising, Kahlen had decided on a meal with a bit of a theme; American Cuisine. She decided to make burgers, hot dogs, Philly cheese steaks, nachos and Chicago pizza, for a bit of variety.

It wasn’t until she was placing the finishing touches on the dishes that she realized her choice may have been influenced by the man who was currently avoiding her, but by then it was too late. Besides, that wasn’t why. Definitely not.

Almost as if he was summoned, Steve walked into the common room, clad in sweaty gym clothes and wiping a towel over his face. He walked towards the kitchen but stopped when he saw Kahlen cleaning pans in the sink, averting his eyes to the ground and mumbling something unintelligible while making a quick 180° turn and a hasty retreat. Before he could escape, however, Kahlen’s temper did what it so rarely does; it got the better of her.

She dropped —or rather, threw from a very short distance— the pan she was holding into the sink, resulting in a resounding clatter that made Steve flinch and duck for cover, spinning around for the source. When he realized there was no threat he raised an eyebrow at her, but the fire in her eyes was going nowhere.

“Why are you avoiding me?” She seethed, her hand resting on her hip to keep from throwing more things.

Steve sighed. “I’m not—”

“Yes you are! You’ve been avoiding me all week!” Should she have cut him off? Probably not. Should she have raised her voice? Again, not the greatest idea. But she could not and would not have him gaslight her into thinking she was imagining things.

She’d been there, done that, and it was not pleasant.

Steve just looked tired. His lack of reaction bothered her; she wanted him to be angry, so she could assure herself later that she was right in not trusting him. It seemed he would not be prone to fighting on his own, so she went for a cheap shot.

“If you didn't want to know about my past then you shouldn’t have manipulated me into telling you!”

And there it was. The self righteous, just-smelled-something-foul, completely insulted look made its way onto his face.

“I never manipulated anyone! I wouldn’t dream of it, I’ve been raised better than that. And you’re not the only one who shared something personal on the roof.” He strode a couple heavy steps toward where she stood fuming, not enough to intimidate but enough to reveal how angry he really was. “You think that was easy for me? Talking about the man I despise more than anyone, the man who has been dead for years and still has this hold over me?”

He stood just on the other side of the island now, his hands on the marble as he leaned toward her, their faces less than a foot away. Both of them were furious now, jaws clenched and brows furrowed over eyes brimming with pure rage.

Kahlen felt the hold on her magic starting to slip, fighting to break free to account for the emotions that threatened to overwhelm her. Luckily for Steve —and for her secret— the elevator chimed, spilling Avengers into the common room.

The arrival of his teammates managed to shake Steve partially out of his anger, though only enough to allow him to pull away from the counter and pretend nothing was wrong. Kahlen forced herself to take a few deep breaths while she placed the food on the table, responding to thanks with a nod and ignoring the occasional questioning look. Above all, she kept her gaze from Steve, knowing just how quickly she could ruin everything if she lost control.

When everyone sat down —Peter included— the food was passed around and conversations began all around the table. Peter chatted away, telling Bruce about what he and Tony had been doing in the lab that day, while Tony looked between Steve and Kahlen, sensing something was wrong with them but unsure of what. He opened his mouth to work the answer out of them but he was cut off by his beloved AI.

“Boss, there’s an attack on 32nd street.”

And dinner was forgotten.

Chapter Text

Kahlen watched the Avengers rush around their massive training gym, preparing their weapons and suiting up. It was chaotic, but there was a method to it as well, like a well oiled machine, every part with a purpose and carrying it out without being in the way.

Kahlen, of course, was completely in the way, standing in the middle of the room and turning all around to try and make sense of what she was seeing.

Nat and Clint were loading up on guns and arrows, strapping them to their thighs and back, covered head to toe in the black suits she’d seen them wear from some news coverage of their other battles. Standing nearby was Sam, strapping his mechanical wings to his back and grabbing a few guns while he was there.

Wanda sat off to the side dressed in scarlet red, her hair down but held in place by some sort of headpiece. Her hands were clasped together and her eyes were closed as her lips moved softly and quietly, mumbling prayers in Sokovian. 

Bruce had run up to his lab the second he heard the alert. Apparently his lab had a control room he used to assess threats and attacks from the tower, to keep damage from the Hulk to a minimum.

Making his way to where Nat and Clint were loading up, Steve continued to avoid Kahlen’s gaze. Which was fine by her. If he wanted to stay angry then so would she.

Emboldened by her temper, Kahlen managed to move from her place and strode over to Tony and Rhodey. The two were talking in low voices over a tablet showing a live feed from 32nd street, devising a strategy. Rhodey was already in his suit, the metal whirring with his movements, while Tony remained in his casual clothes with a suit nearby that he was adjusting the blasters for. Her arrival was met with curious looks, not inviting but not closed off either.

“I want to help,” she stated, meaning to leave no room for argument. Instead she received a gentle sigh from Tony. He and Rhodey shared a look, after which the latter walked off to share strategies with the other military men. “People are getting hurt, I should help them.” Kahlen crossed her arms, refusing to back down.

While she really did want to help people, the bigger reason for her wanting to be involved was that she just didn’t want to lose any of these people before she really got to know them. It seemed unfair, to finally meet people who can relate a bit better to what she’s been through (whether they know that or not) and then lose them soon after.

“It’s too dangerous,” Tony replied, pleading with his eyes for her to listen. She opened her mouth to argue but his gaze grew hard, making it clear he wouldn’t discuss this with her. She honestly debated telling him how qualified she really was, how much of an asset she could be with her power, but before she could decide she found Peter beside her, grinning in a red and blue spandex suit.

Now that’s something Kahlen hadn’t guessed.

“You’re Spider-man?!” Peter looked sheepish, but his grin remained.

Tony took advantage of her shock and made his escape, meeting with Pepper across the room and speaking in low voices. Before she knew it, the heroes were out the door and heading into danger, leaving her and Pepper alone in their gym. The woman put her arm over Kahlen’s shoulder and gave her a gentle squeeze.

“You’ll get used to it,” she sighed.

“What?”

“Waiting for them to come back. And hoping they’re in one piece when they do.”

Kahlen had no plans to wait.

— — —

Taking the stairs two at a time, Kahlen made it to her room in no time and made directly for her desk. She opened a drawer that appeared empty and reached her hand out, wrapping around the cloak and pulling it out to reveal her wand below.

Since becoming the Mistress of Death, she hadn’t really needed her wand much. Wand-less and silent magic came almost as easily to her, and it was almost as powerful, too. But today was too important for her to be cocky, so she held the familiar wood and allowed her magic to become reacquainted with it. 

She felt a rush of power go through her and shut the drawer, the invisibility cloak still wrapped around her shoulders. With one last look around the room, she cast a spell to trick FRIDAY’s sensors into thinking she was in her room, apparated to 32nd street.

— — —

When she reappeared, Kahlen found herself in an empty alleyway, the sounds of explosions bleeding around the corner. She threw the cloak over her head, ensuring she was completely covered, and tentatively peeked her head around the corner.

She was immediately met with some mechanical thing whizzing past her head. She pulled back, adrenaline starting to take over, and tried to figure out what was happening in front of her.

The entire area was overrun with weird looking robots, some the size of a person armed with samurai swords and others like some sort of metal squid, cutting through the air and crowding the skys. At the epicentre of the offensive was a man; well, she assumed it was a man. He wore a green cloak and a mask made of solid metal, his hands extended as though controlling the robots every movement. Thinking back to her research, Kahlen remembered this to be Dr. Doom, which would make the attackers his Doom bots.

Thankfully, the block appeared to be evacuated, leaving only Doom, the fighting Avengers, and herself. The team seemed to be holding their own, each covering a different area to keep the threat contained. 

Kahlen had thought the way they prepared for a fight was awe inspiring, but it was nothing compared to seeing them in action. Even though they had earpieces coordinating their attacks, the way they moved was nothing short of amazing. Every person had a role, and they knew how to do it, never having to worry where their teammates were because they just seemed to know instinctually.

Still, they could use some help. There were a lot of Doom bots.

Kahlen got to work, casting every protective charm she could think of over each Avenger. She even used spells that were probably redundant, protecting them from everything (whether it was a current threat or not). When everyone was as protected as she could manage, Kahlen started on the bots themselves, casting a Bombarda here and there. She tried to avoid any in the Avengers line of sight, but occasionally one of them would get overwhelmed and she tried to help them out.

She could feel herself tiring, her magic severely depleted. A quick break was quickly interrupted when she spotted Tony facing off with Dr. Doom. Alone. Like an idiot.

He was handling himself well, but Kahlen could see a samurai Doom bot approaching from behind. She thought Tony would notice but he was busy with the source of the threat and had no idea he was in any danger. Just as the bot raised its menacingly sharp sword and started to bring it down, Kahlen let out a blast of wordless, wand-less magic.

It wasn’t a spell, just pure adrenaline and desperation given form. It destroyed everything between her and Tony, obliterating the attacking bot and alerting Tony to its presence. While Tony was distracted, Dr. Doom raised his hand to attack but Kahlen sent a Confundo his way before he could do anything. With the bots mostly destroyed and the main offender thoroughly neutralized, Kahlen apparated back to the tower.

— — —

The Avengers sat around the conference room table, slumped down in their chairs as the last of their adrenaline ceased. Fury had left a few minutes earlier, after an attempted debriefing that yielded disappointing results. He walked out in a huff, leaving the team to pick themselves up. Before any of them could go find rest, however, Tony pulled himself up and asked them to stay for a minute.

They waited to hear what he had to say but Tony just stared at the table in confusion. “Did anyone notice anything… strange? About the fight, I mean.” He thought he might’ve been mistaken, but something about it all seemed off.

“I know what you mean,” Clint nodded. “I would be fighting off Doom bots and I’d string an explosive arrow,” he explained, miming the actions as he spoke. “But before I could shoot it the bot combusted all on its own. And I don’t think there were any other explosives at play.”

“There were no outside ballistic missiles involved in the fight,” FRIDAY confirmed.

“Maybe there’s a new superhuman in town,” Bruce said. He turned his body to face the witch at the table. “Wanda, do you think a telekinetic could’ve done that much damage?”

She contemplated the question before answering. “I don’t think so. My own attacks proved much less successful. It took multiple tries for anything near that result.” They tried to think of another solution to their question, but there was nothing.

“I noticed something as well,” Steve added, somewhat tentatively. “A few times a bot would get close enough to land a hit, but it just… bounced off me? I don’t know, it was weird.” He shook his head, still unsure of what had happened.

“That happened to me, too,” Nat confirmed. A few others nodded along as well. “They would hit me and I would brace for the pain, but it never came. One of them even got me with a sword.” She received concerned looks, some of them even looking for a wound but she waved them off. “I’m fine. That’s my point, it just bounced off of me. I should’ve been severely injured, but I didn’t even get a scratch.”

Again, there was no viable answer to their unasked questions. 

“That’s not the only thing,” Tony said. “When I was fighting Doom, I was so focused on parrying his attacks that I didn’t notice one of those big ugly bots sneaking up behind me. It would’ve had me too, but it completely disintegrated with no provocation, along with everything behind it. There was no one on the other side of the destruction to have done it, either. And when I turned back to the demented doctor he seemed… confused.” Tony furrowed his brows, rubbing his chin. “He could’ve finished me when I was distracted, but he just looked around like he had no idea where he was or how he got there.”

There wasn’t much to say after that. No one had any explanations for the strange things they’d seen, so they retreated to their respective rooms to rest. After all, it wasn’t every day you have your mind as exhausted as your body.

Chapter Text

“Get out of here you two!” Sirius shouts, his words echoing around the expansive room. All around them Death Eaters and members of the Order are locked in battle, duelling spell after spell. Flashes of green and red and white surround them, some hitting their targets and others falling short.

“You come with us!” Kahlen replies over the noise, pleading with him to listen. 

“You’re the important one now, Kahlen,” Sirius says, smiling at her and cupping her chin in his hand. She leans in, a tear falling from her eye and onto his rough, prison-worn hand. “I have to help the Order.”

So brave. So stupidly, annoyingly brave.

“I’ll always be here for you, Kahlen.” His expression betrays no fear, despite everything going on around them. She allows her hands to release from their death-grip on his robes, slowly, so slowly she hopes he stops her. But he doesn’t. 

“Now go!”

She tries to obey him, to escape and live to fight another day, but chaos erupts with the arrival of Bellatrix. And of course, Sirius decides to take her on alone.

They circle each other, hurling spells and taunts alike, trying to trip the other up. But both are unbreakable; Sirius because he knows no fear, Bellatrix because she’s so crazy she can’t feel anything. The barrage of magic continues, picking up pace. Kahlen tries to intervene, to help Sirius somehow, but before she can even move he’s struck by a spell.

She watches his smile fade first, and then the rest of him follows, slipping into the Veil, never to return.

A guttural cry wrenches itself from her throat, formed deep inside her, her grief so intolerable she thinks she may just drop dead right there. Kahlen tries to follow Sirius, to rescue him somehow or even accompany him into death, but Remus holds her in place, his arms encircling her and protecting her from herself.

“Sirius!” She shouts after him, tears streaming down her face.

“Kahlen! Kahlen! He’s gone… there’s nothing you can do…” Remus sounds heartbroken, like a piece of him died with his best friend, but in that moment Kahlen feels betrayed.

“Sirius!”

“SIRIUS!”

“SIRIUS!”

Kahlen shot up in her bed, finding herself wrapped in a pair of arms that rocked her back and forth, slowly, gently, so as not to scare her. The feeling of being embraced reminded her of Remus, of how he restrained her and saved her life. The sensation made it more difficult for Kahlen to remove herself from her nightmare, her mind still trapped in the worst day of her life.

“He’s dead…” she whispered hysterically, shuddering as the dam burst and her body was wracked with sobs. “He’s dead. He’s dead. They’re all dead, oh god, he’s dead.” She continued to repeat the phrase, feeling every part of her grief as fresh as when it first happened. 

Another hand appeared, tracing slow patterns on her arm. The repetition of the motion helped break her from her downward spiral, coaxing her back to the present, where she found herself with Tony on one side, and Steve on the other.

— — —

The first relatively peaceful sleep Tony had had in weeks was disturbed by an Earth-shattering scream. It pierced the quiet air of the entire floor, forcing him into an upright position as he tried to make sense of what he was hearing. 

A split-second later he threw the covers away, jumping out of his bed and sprinting down the hall to Kahlen’s room. He nearly lost his balance on the turns, but it didn’t matter. When he spotted his daughter curled into a tight, shaking ball with tears running down her face, nothing else mattered to Tony.

He walked closer to her, cautiously. He didn’t want to wake her, knowing just how terrible it felt being jarred from a nightmare. Standing next to her bed, he could hear her cries and whimpers of anguish, and to say it broke his heart would be an understatement. 

Tony settled beside her, pulling her close and holding her against his chest to try to provide some comfort. Her cries quieted for a minute, but his hope was short lived as she started screaming again. She was growing more upset, thrashing in his arms, and then suddenly she was awake— sort of.

“SIRIUS!”

Her eyes were wide and terrified, but she stopped fighting against his hold and allowed herself to be comforted. Tony could tell she wasn’t fully aware of her surroundings, because she kept mumbling through her tears, saying “he’s dead, he’s dead” over and over, rocking back and forth with unfocussed eyes.

They stayed that way for about a minute longer before Steve found them, his breathing heavy and his body alert, ready for a fight.

— — —

Steve drove his fist into the punching bag, sending it flying off the hook and into the wall. He took a deep breath, feeling the sweat running down his back, and turned around to grab another punching bag to take his anger out on.

Being awake at an ungodly hour was nothing new to Steve, but the reason for his insomnia was a recent development. Ever since his conversation on the roof with Kahlen, he hadn’t been able to shake this guilt he was feeling. Keeping a secret like that from Tony was killing him; he knew it was wrong, and that Tony deserved to know, but he also knew that it wasn’t his secret to tell.

Instead, he’d avoided both of them. But it only served to make him feel more guilty.

When another punching bag was put out of commission, Steve decided to give the workout a rest. He took the elevator to his floor, which he had all to himself; Clint was on a covert mission with Natasha, leaving the space empty and lonely.

Freshly showered, Steve had just pulled a shirt over his head when he heard the screaming. It came from the floor above him, putting him on alert. It took only a second for him to put two and two together.

“Kahlen,” he muttered under his breath, his worry increasing tenfold as he took off towards the stairs.

It only occurred to him that he should have grabbed a weapon when he was a few strides from where the screams had come from: Kahlen’s room. It didn’t matter, though, because anyone who would cause that kind of sound to come from her was already dead, weapon or not.

Entering the room, he realized that he was entirely wrong in his assumptions. Kahlen was indeed the one who had been screaming, he was sure of that, but the way that she was wrapped in Tony’s arms, quivering and mumbling with tears falling from bloodshot eyes, it was pretty clear that the one responsible was not a person, but a nightmare. Steve only hoped it was born from fantasy rather than memory.

“Is she okay?” he huffed, catching his breath while waiting for Tony’s answer, but he only looked up, shrugged helplessly, and returned to the terrified girl at his side.

Steve stood watching, no idea how to help but wanting to do nothing else. Eventually, he settled for approaching cautiously on Kahlen’s other side, sitting with one leg hanging over the mattress, and rubbing her arm, gently brushing up and down in lazy, random patterns. He didn’t know if he was helping, but he did it anyway, and ever so slowly, Kahlen’s breathing slowed. Her shaking form relaxed, and her eyes focused on her father and friend.

She blushed when she noticed their closeness, but made no effort to pull away. Tony didn’t let her go either, and Steve kept tracing on her arm.

Minutes passed, the three of them unconsciously pulling closer in the silence. Unfortunately, Tony’s worry got the better of him.

“Do you want to talk about it?” He asked carefully. Despite his effort to keep things comfortable for her, Kahlen tensed up. She was still pretty shaken from the nightmare, it seemed. All she could manage was a fervent shake of her head.

The motion pushed the hair away from her sweat-covered forehead, revealing a shockingly prominent scar. Steve’s breath caught in his throat, his eyes finding Tony’s equally astonished expression. 

How had they not seen it before? 

It was hard to miss, its colour vastly different from her skin tone, despite the fact that it was clearly quite old. The shape was strange, unnatural: like a lightning bolt, spanning the length of her forehead. Steve felt himself longing to brush his fingers over the mark, to feel the raised skin for himself. He barely managed to restrain himself, his wonder growing stronger by the second, but he wouldn’t bother her about it tonight. Her strength was busy quieting her mind. The settled line of Tony’s lips showed that he was thinking the same thing.

Another ten minutes passed quickly, leaving Kahlen more grounded but still unsettled.

“I don’t think I’ll be going back to sleep,” she admitted. She was worried they might leave her to her own devices, maybe call her weak, but they didn’t waver, so she asked her question, remaining fear and nerves giving her voice a tremble. “Can we go to the lab?”

Her words were barely audible, but both men nodded and started rising, helping her up along with them.

The last hours of night were spent in Tony’s lab, playing around with gadgets, making up games to pass the time, and laughing in the quiet comfort they created for themselves.

It was only as they were parting ways that Steve and Tony noticed the missing scar on Kahlen’s forehead, perfectly smooth skin in its place.

Chapter Text

It had been five days since she had woken Tony and Steve up with her nightmare, and Kahlen was still reprimanding herself.

First of all, she forgot to put up a silencing charm around her bedroom, which was stupid because nightmares are not an uncommon occurrence for her. 

She also forgot to lock her door with a charm, which was stupid because manual locks can be easily overridden by the robot in the walls (or FRIDAY, as she keeps insisting to be called).

Then , she forgot to glamour her scars when the boys came in… okay, that one wasn’t really her fault, she couldn’t think straight through the fear. But still! It was a silly, stupid mistake to make. Luckily they didn’t notice her hand with the jagged words carved into the back —that would’ve brought up a lot of questions she was not ready to answer— but she was pretty sure they saw her lightning bolt scar. It was invisible to them by the time they reached the lab, but the situation could’ve turned so much worse.

All of this meant one thing: Kahlen was getting too comfortable. And the worst part? She wasn’t sure she really minded. She didn’t want to unload all of her trauma —because that would take years, and really, no one has that kind of time— but she was starting to notice the little things that made her stick out in the wizarding world almost… fit? Belonged? She wasn’t sure, but it was a nice feeling to not be the oddest one in a group (she might still be the oddest, but they didn’t know that).

Plus, she had to admit that Wanda and Nat could make a brilliant braid. Kahlen would often sit on the floor in the common room and have one of them braid her hair while they had something going on the monstrous television ( I mean really Tony, could you have bought a bigger one?). It was nice to let her guard down around them a little, to enjoy time with people who didn’t know everything about her.

Still, she missed her friends more than she thought possible.

Kahlen was thinking about some of the more carefree moments of her childhood while Nat pulled her hair into an intricate braid at the back of her head when the elevator chimed. She tucked in the last hair just in time, because when Kahlen saw who was exiting the elevator, she was on her feet and sprinting away, a huge grin splitting her face.

— — —

The sight of the quiet —albeit snarky— young woman squealing as she ran across the common room pulled everyone’s attention to her destination.

Leaving the elevator was a group of five young adults with matching expressions of glee at seeing their friend and awe at the technology in front of them. They were led by a girl with curly brown hair, as she seemed the least surprised at the elevator that carried them hundreds of feet into the air. Behind her was a blonde girl, wearing an odd combination of colours and unusual jewelry to frame her face. She seemed almost too relaxed, giving a few of the Avengers the idea that she took one too many sedatives on her flight. Trailing behind were three kids with striking red hair and complete bafflement adorning their features, though those were gone by the time they spotted Kahlen, replaced with smiles so similar they had to be siblings.

“Kahlen!” They all said it at the same time, but they didn’t have much time to orient themselves because Kahlen started throwing herself into their arms. The pure joy radiating from the group pulled the heroes closer, giving them some space but enjoying the happiness exuding from the newest member of their family.

She hugged the brunette and the shorter ginger boy first, then widened the circle to include the mousy blonde and confident ginger woman. 

“Georgie!” Kahlen clearly hadn’t seen the other ginger boy, because when she did she threw her arms around his neck and her legs around his waist. The display left an uneasy feeling in the pit of Steve’s stomach, the familiarity shared between the two leaving a bad taste in his mouth, though he forced a smile on his face. He refused to be the one to ruin this for Kahlen; she deserved this happiness.

A few more minutes of hugging, laughing, and a little crying later, Kahlen finally turned to the bystanders with a blinding smile.

“Everyone,” she began excitedly, “these are my friends from school. This is Hermione, Ron, Ginny, Luna and George.” She pointed out each of them as she spoke, and despite the fact that they were meeting the Avengers, they seemed completely at ease, waving and smiling at them all. 

A thought seemed to strike Kahlen suddenly, bringing her attention back to the other kids. “Wait, how are you here right now?” Before any of them could answer, Tony cut in.

“I invited them.” His statement shocked her a little, so he continued. “I noticed you’ve been a little homesick, so I thought I would bring a little home to you. I didn’t do too much, I jus—” he was cut off by the crushing hug of his daughter. His surprise passed quickly, and he took the opportunity to hug her back.

“Thank you,” she whispered genuinely, a few unshed tears resting on her eyelashes. She brushed them away with a little laugh, and pulled away to face her mostly confused friends— the bushy haired brunette appeared to be confused by nothing. Tony thought now would be as good a time as any to introduce himself, but he realized he didn’t think it all the way through as he spoke.

“I’m Tony,” he said, reaching his hand out to greet the guests he’d invited. “I’m Kahlen’s… well, I’m her—'' He didn't know quite what to say. He didn’t know how much they knew, or how comfortable she was with being known to be related to him, but thankfully she took over for him.

“He’s my dad.” It was a simple fact, one that everyone in the room was aware of, but the ease with which Kahlen said it shocked everyone in the room. The first to break from the odd spell the words had put them under was Tony, his smile growing impossibly wider, pride practically radiating from him.

As the rest of them shook back to the present, Kahlen continued with the introductions. “Guys, this is Nat, Wanda, Sam, Clint, Rhodey, and Steve.” They took the opportunity to come closer, merging the previously separated pieces of Kahlen’s life together. While saying hello, Steve may have squeezed George’s hand a little tighter —by accident, of course— which earned a laugh from the boy and a protective glare from Nat that he chose to ignore.

When everyone was better acquainted, Tony offered to show them to the guest rooms, Kahlen tagging along to catch up on anything she’d missed. The remaining Avengers were left watching the elevator curiously for a moment before Clint —as he always seemed to be doing— spoke.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen so many gingers at once in my life,” he said seriously. His humour was hardly missed while he was ‘on a mission’ (everyone knew that he was visiting his family for his birthday, but they understood his caution). The others rolled their eyes but agreed nonetheless.

“They seem nice,” Sam responded, but he paused for a minute, his forehead pinched as he tried to work something out in his head.

“Does anyone know what a Nargle is?”

Chapter Text

After a few hours of catching up, the wizards rejoined the common room for the most chaotic dinner any of them had ever experienced, including at the Burrow (Molly managed to force some British etiquette on her kids, but only a little). They shouted over each other, laughing until they almost cried, and smiled more than they had in ages. When the eating was completely turned to talking, Tony decided to propose the idea that had been brewing all week in his genius mind.

“So, Kahlen,” he started loudly, gaining the attention of the others at the table. “You haven’t been here very long, but you should know we have a monthly tradition.” He expected her to roll her eyes, the way his teammates did. Her wariness and the protective glances her friends sent were not the reaction he expected, so he decided to continue before any assumptions could go too far. “We have a monthly game night in the tower,” he explained, allowing the younger members of the group to relax and bring smiles back to their faces, “and it happens to be tonight, so… are you all in?”

Surprisingly, the first to respond was Luna. Her flighty way of moving and wispy voice gave the impression that she was shy (or high, take your pick), but she never seemed nervous when she spoke.

“I think that’s a lovely idea,” she hummed. “Shall we play veritaserum or drink?” The question was followed by confusion from the Avengers and nervous laughter from the guests.

“What’s veritaserum or drink?” Bruce asked, a little concerned at the idea of these teenagers playing drinking games.

“It’s nothing,” George answered, waving his hand in the air as if brushing the question away. “It’s basically like truth or drink. Veritaserum is a British drink that… well, I suppose it lowers inhibitions? Yeah, that’s it.” His proud smile at his quick thinking earned him a disappointed look from Hermione, to which he shrugged. 

“I don’t know if we should promote underage drinking,” Steve said cautiously. Did he follow laws, like, ever? No. But he had a reputation to keep, so he hid his smirk behind a disapproving look.

“Relax, half of us are legal in the UK and the other half are no strangers to alcohol,” Kahlen assured, rolling her eyes with a good-natured smile. Steve accepted the smile, glad to be back on good terms with one of the most fascinating women he’d ever met.

“Well, we don’t have ‘veritaserum’, or whatever, but I think we have a game,” Tony announced with a grin. After all, what better way was there for them to learn more about Kahlen?

— — —

“The game is simple,” Ginny explained, setting down some more drinks in the middle of the circle created by sitting superheroes and wizards. “You ask someone a question, and they can either answer it or take a drink. The more embarrassing the question, the better. Any questions? No? Good.” She sat down and completed the circle, leaving no room for any questions.

“I’ll start,” Nat volunteered, turning to Clint with a mischievous smile and making his eyes widen in fear. “What happened in Berlin, January 13th, 2006?” The question was so specific that it had to have a good answer, so the group became excited when Clint just sighed and started to talk rather than reach for a shot.

“We got really drunk after a successful mission and I may have ended up running through the streets of Berlin, naked, in the middle of winter.” He shrugged, clearly not upset about losing this secret. They all laughed at his little story, but no harm was really done, and that was the beauty of the game.

“I’ll go,” Ginny grinned, the ones who knew her growing anxious. After all, Ginerva Weasley knew everything. “Ron,” she started and he groaned, “why don’t you tell us what you did with Lavender Brown after your first Quidditch match?” Ron blushed and glared at his sister as he reached for a drink. His friends laughed at his misery, especially when Hermione smacked him upside the head.

The muggles tried to ask what Quidditch was, but the game continued before they had a chance.

“Kahlen,” George turned to her, and her laughter stopped immediately, a warning being given in her eyes that he completely ignored. “Help me out, I always seem to forget. What was it you did in the summer after your fifth year?” She scowled at him while her friends tried to contain their giggles.

“I swear to Merlin, George, I will blow your other ear off,” she mumbled, just low enough that the non-super soldiers couldn’t hear, but Steve and Nat shared a confused look. Everyone watched her expectantly, so she sighed. “I broke into a government office,” she said glumly, her arms crossed like a child who hadn’t done many, many illegal things.

“WHAT?!” Her answer began a barrage of questions, through which Kahlen stayed silent but stared a very pleased George down. As they got louder, she tried to defend herself.

“Ron, Hermione, Luna and Ginny were all there, too!” She shouted, silencing the questions and eliciting offended sounds from the accused. “If I’m going down, you’re all going down with me.”

No one quite knew what to say to that. Honestly, most of them were just baffled that the intelligent, responsible Hermione helped break into a government office, but none of the kids seemed the least bit guilty, so they decided to let it go for now.

“So Steve,” Sam said slowly. “What happened when you kissed a receptionist in the army in front of Peggy Carter?” The wizards jumped on the topic change, but Steve looked less than thrilled.

“I told you that in confidence,” he grumbled from behind his shot glass.

Sam seemed to forget how the game worked, because he told them anyway. “Peggy shot at him with a gun!” Steve glared at him but he smiled when he noticed Kahlen smiling along with her friends.

“Hey Tony,” Rhodey said, looking over at his friend.

“Oh god.”

“Do you remember—”

“No.”

“—what you did—”

“Don’t you fucking dare, Honeybear.”

“—in the winter of 2013?”

The two locked eyes for a minute, Tony glaring and Rhodey downright gleeful.

“I will fight you, and I will win, and you will die,” Tony stated, somewhat calmly and mostly joking. “Just like when you ruined my birthday party and I had to kick your ass.”

“Ok first, I kicked your ass—”

“I let you win.”

“—and don’t change the subject. You gonna drink, or fess up?” Tony pouted but sighed in defeat.

“I may have threatened a terrorist who blew up my house… with me inside,” he muttered, taking a shot anyway, hoping to hide the last part behind the alcohol.

“Ha!” Kahlen barked out, covering her mouth in surprise at the unexpected sound, but dissolving into a fit of giggles. “See? You’re no better than me.”

“I’ve never broken into the government!” Tony responded, appalled by the comparison.

“I mean, you’ve been hacking into the government since you were fourteen, isn’t that kind of the same thing?” Rhodey asked, knowing the answer and exactly what Tony thought of that answer.

“No it is not the same thing,” he replied. “And who’s side are you on anyway?” Rhodey raised his hands in surrender, knowing his work was done.

“It’s totally the same thing,” Nat stage-whispered to Clint, who nodded with mock seriousness. 

“Like father, like daughter.” Clint’s words brought the room to a standstill, a bit of awkwardness mingling with the easy banter they’d been enjoying moments earlier. Clint realized his mistake and quickly continued with the game. 

“So Kahlen,” he started nervously, “have you ever been in love?”

The question Clint meant to use to dispel the tension only made it a thousand times worse. The wizards in the room all froze, sucking in sharp breaths and glancing apprehensively at Kahlen. 

She had adopted a smile, but not like the happy one she wore minutes ago. This one was sad, full of grief and anger and fear and desperation. The intensity of her sorrow hit them like a truck, bringing tears to their eyes before any words were even spoken.

“Yes.” She said simply, her voice watery and strong at the same time. “Once. His name was… Cedric Diggory.” She paused at the name, no tears falling but somehow her intangible anguish doubled. The sheer force of her turmoil made each Avenger wish to help her somehow, though none of them knew how.

Wanda had had experience with grief, more than she thought any one person should go through. In her experience, speaking about it —keeping their memory alive, even if they weren’t— was the only way to grow and move forward. So she pulled herself together enough to say just one word.

“Was?”

Hermione reached over and held Kahlen’s hand, gently, like she would a baby bird, but Kahlen’s sad smile never diminished.

“He died,” she confirmed, giving her best friend’s hand a little squeeze, to thank her for the support she didn’t know she needed until just then. “Over three years ago.”

She didn’t go into any details —couldn’t without giving everything away— but the heroes understood her grief, had felt similar feelings in their own experiences. And though Kahlen would never wish her pain on another soul, she was grateful to be surrounded by so many people who understood. Wizards —veterans, really— and superheroes alike, connected by their suffering.

They all made their way to bed after that. There wasn’t much left to say.

Chapter Text

It seemed Steve was not the only one who enjoyed an early morning.

He’d just returned from his run, his attempt to force the hardest revelation of the night before having been completely unsuccessful. Apparently none of his plans would pan out today, because he’d hoped to make a quick breakfast of lightly burned toast (cooking was not his specialty— at all) and then retreat to his room, but the mess of curly brown hair sitting at the island made this impossible.

Sometimes his 1940’s manners exhausted him, but he applied a kind smile to his face anyway.

“Morning,” he said, making his way to the cabinets. His greeting barely registered with the girl whose head was bent over the table, a book resting on the marble. Her eyes ran over the pages so quickly Steve thought she might not even be reading, but her lack of response implied that she was fully immersed in whatever the book depicted.

He assumed that she may just be tired or that she didn’t want to be interrupted, so he continued his poor cooking in silence. It didn’t stay that way for long, though, because somehow Hermione finished the book in the time it took his toast to begin smoking.

“Oh!”, Hermione exclaimed looking up, her breathy accent revealing her surprise. “Steve. I didn’t see you there… How long have you been here?” She asked sheepishly, a light blush spreading over her face. 

Steve smiled. It seemed she often read so intensely she missed a conversation.

“Not long,” he promised, “I just got back, actually.” She relaxed at that.

“I’m glad. I’d feel simply awful if you thought I was ignoring you.” She slid her book carefully to the left, as though it would crumble beneath her fingertips, to make herself appear open to speaking. “How are you?”

“Not too bad. What about you? What has you up so early?”

“Couldn’t sleep,” she replied, averting her eyes. She waved off his oncoming concern. “It’s no problem, I’ve never been a big sleeper. Besides, my book was calling to me.”

Hermione grinned, and Steve found himself grinning along with her.

“Yeah, I hear The Incomplete History of Great Witches is a great read,” he laughed. Of course, there was no such thing as witches, not really. Wanda’s ‘magic’ was a product of experimentation, they all knew that. Steve assumed the book was some sort of fiction, a fantasy guide, but when the blood drained from her face, he was quick to explain. “Sorry, I didn’t know it was private. Super sight just sort of… happens sometimes.”

Again, she relaxed, then tried to laugh away the slight chill in the room.

“It’s alright. It’s just a story, though I hope you don’t think me silly for reading it.”

“I couldn’t think of you as anything less than brilliant,” he promised. She blushed, because sometimes compliments are exactly what you need to hear, and Steve was always happy to provide them to someone deserving.

Clearing her throat, Hermione spoke. “Was there something you needed?” She eyed the uneaten black hunk of toast, which was nearly cold now.

He almost replied in the negative, but caught himself just in time. “Actually, I do have a question. It’s about Kahlen.” Hermione raised an eyebrow, asking him to continue.

“Have you ever seen a scar? On her forehead, I mean. Kind of big, shaped a little like a lightning bolt? I thought I saw it one night, but it was dark and late and I haven’t seen it since…” He trailed off, distracted by her baffled reaction.

“You can’t see… of course not,” she admonished under her breath, unaware that he could hear every word. Taking a deep breath, she answered him with such boredom and enough annoyance in her tone that he was sure she must’ve repeated the same story a thousand times over. “No, I’ve never seen a scar. Perhaps it was a trick of the light, or a flicker in your eye.” Steve’s eyes were quite literally perfect, and he assumed Hermione knew as much. Her explanation only made him more suspicious.

Before he could follow up with more questions, Hermione stood abruptly.

“Apologies, but I must be off,” she said, scooping her book into her arms and walking away, quickly, so as to not be followed.”I have to speak to someone about secrets.”

Steve was almost positive that wasn’t meant for his stupid, perfect ears.

— — —

Tony hadn’t seen his daughter all day, though he wasn’t entirely surprised. She would probably spend every second she could with her friends until they had to leave, and he expected nothing less of her after seeing her reaction to their surprise visit. He did, however, need to make sure she ate. He worried she may be just a little too much like him, and his eating habits were not something he’d hoped to give his child.

He looked for her first in the common room, then the lab, before heading up to their floor to check her room. His hand reached for the doorknob, the words “what do you want for dinner?” prepared to come from his lips, when he overheard three voices talking lowly.

“You really shouldn’t keep so much from them.” That was Hermione, Tony acknowledged. 

What is she keeping from us? He frowned.

“You know why I can’t tell them,” Kahlen said, exasperated, as though she’d had this argument many times before.

“You can though.” The male voice belonged to Ron. “The Ministry allows muggle parents to know, and I’m sure you could argue that the rest of the Avengers are considered family.”

“I’m not talking about the Ministry. I just… I don’t want them to look at me the way everyone else does.” Kahlen sounded small, like a child trying to explain why they shouldn’t have to go to bed, though Tony was sure whatever reasoning she had would be more valid than a child’s.

“They could help you,” Hermione tried to persuade her. “I don’t believe them knowing the truth would make them think badly of you. If anything, I think they’d understand.”

Why would they understand? What could she have been through that made Hermione so sure a group of emotionally unstable, trauma-filled superheroes would understand? Tony forced himself to keep listening, refusing to follow that line of thought for too long.

“I know.” He heard Kahlen sigh, imagined her knees pulled tight to her chest. “I’ll tell them,” she promised, “just… not yet.”

There was a pause.

“Fine,” Hermione conceded.

“But if we find out you haven’t told them you have to help Charlie clean the dragon dung next Christmas,” Ron threatened. There was a little laughter from the three of them, and the conversation was left behind them.

Tony shook himself off, ready to walk into the room like he’d heard nothing, but a few words caught him before he could even touch the metal.

“How’s Remus?”

Ah. Remus. The mysterious godfather that Kahlen was so hellbent on living with. He couldn't lie, the man’s name was enough to make Tony frown, imagining some evil man trying to take his daughter away. It’s not that he didn’t trust Kahlen’s judgement, but brainwashing happens all the time to impressionable teens, and it didn’t sit well with him that he, a genius billionaire with unlimited resources, could find next to nothing on the man.

“And Tonks,” Kahlen continued, oblivious to the man working himself into a fit on the other side of her door. “And Teddy, of course. I miss my perfect little godson.”

This was new. Tony had never heard of any ‘Tonks’, and he had no idea Kahlen was a godmother. Maybe these are the “secrets” she’s been keeping, he hoped. He held tight to this sliver of possibility, the alternative being too painful to bear.

“They’re all well, though missing you like crazy, of course,” Hermione said. “Teddy’s growing wicked fast, much to his parent’s chagrin. He’s found Remus’s old broom, nearly gave Tonks a heart attack.” They chuckled, then didn’t speak. There seemed to be some unspoken truth between them that they didn’t want to say out loud, but Tony had no clue what it could be. Luckily for him, Ron gave in.

“They’re happy Kahlen,” he said softly. “They are. You… I know you want to do this for them, but they don’t need you to get that signature.”

Tony was completely lost now, but he listened for Kahlen’s answer anyway. He hoped she would assure them that the signature wasn’t the only reason she was still here, but he never really believed that himself.

“I don’t want to do this for them,” she said confidently, “I need to do this for them.” Then, with much less confidence than she’d just had, she added, “Remus is all I have to connect me to my parents. He’s all I have.”

Tony didn’t want to listen anymore. He knocked on the door, came in when bid and plastered a smile on his face to ask about their food preferences, never once betraying the anguish he felt.

— — —

Lounging in the common room the next day, Tony was still bummed by last night's revelation. He had to admit, it hurt hearing Kahlen say her parents were gone when he was right there. He couldn’t blame her, she didn’t know he was there, and for most of her life she thought she was an orphan. But it hurt all the same.

Some of the team had gone on a mission, namely Sam, Clint and Rhodey. Kahlen and her guests decided to tour around the city that day, leaving the remaining Avengers without the company of the lively teens. As a result, they’d migrated to the common room, some comedy show playing on the tv and a game of chess being played by Bruce and Wanda on the coffee table.

No one had said much that afternoon, their minds otherwise occupied. At some point, Steve decided that what occupied his mind was better spoken than left unsaid.

“Do you guys remember how we said we’d be on the lookout for anything suspicious about Kahlen?” He asked out of the blue, gaining the attention of his friends. “Well I’ve noticed some things, and I can’t seem to make it make sense.”

“What have you noticed?” Bruce loved puzzles, and this one had been bothering him for weeks. Maybe if he had a few more pieces he could see the bigger picture.

“Well for starters, that day Clint and I took her around the city?” Steve pretended not to notice the glare Tony sent his way. “This little girl came up to us to ask for an autograph.”

“We’re superheroes Steve,” Nat deadpanned, “people ask for autographs. It’s pretty normal”

Steve shook his head. “That’s the thing. She didn’t want our autographs. She wanted Kahlen’s.” The shocked expressions they all now wore showed that they had no idea what to make of this. Steve allowed them a few seconds to process, then plowed on. “I thought it was a mistake, that the girl had mistaken Kahlen for someone else, but Kahlen wasn’t even fazed by it. Just took the pen and paper from the little girl and ignored how starstruck she seemed, her and her mom.”

Wanda tried to find an explanation for her new friend's behaviour, but it made no sense. When she’d first become an Avenger it had taken months to get used to the celebrity status that came with it. The only way for Kahlen to have not been surprised is if this was a common occurrence for her. The only question was why? 

“There’s more,” Steve added, almost reluctantly. He still couldn’t figure out if this part was real or not, but he had to tell someone. “About a week ago she had a nightmare.” Tony sucked in a breath, remembering that night and hating that it had happened. “She was screaming, so Tony and I went to check on her. I won't divulge the details of what she said before she was fully conscious, I don’t know what she considers private. But what I will tell you is that she had a scar. And not a little scar, like when a kid burns themself on the stove. It was big, and it was right on her forehead.” They were sceptical, as Steve knew they would be. How could he suggest that their newest housemate had a very visible scar that none of them had seen?

“I saw it too.” And just like that, in as few as four words from Tony, they all believed. It wasn’t that they didn’t trust Steve. That was far from the truth, they trusted him with their lives on a regular basis. But Tony would never agree with someone who he didn’t believe was right.

“Why have we never seen it then, if it’s so obvious?” Nat couldn’t understand how her impossibly perceptive eyes could’ve missed something so huge.

“I don’t know,” Tony admitted. It was a rare admission coming from him, and it caused almost as much shock as the things they’d heard from Steve. “I haven’t seen it since, and I assume you haven’t either?” He directed the question at Steve, who shook his head. “Maybe she covers it with makeup?” It wasn’t likely, but it was the only solution any of them could think of.

“I think we need to keep a closer eye on her,” Steve suggested. He cut off any protests about privacy before they could begin. “Not in a creepy way. Just be on the lookout for anything weird, and don’t dismiss things that don’t make sense. Agreed?”

They nodded, determined to solve the puzzle that was Kahlen Potter.

Chapter Text

Kahlen was bored. She was sitting in the common room, a room designed with technology and entertainment in mind, and she was bored. That’s not to say she didn’t know those things were there. She just had no one to do them with.

Her friends had all left two days prior. They were needed back in England, and she understood that, though she hated to see them go. Still, she couldn’t get over how thoughtful it was for Tony to invite them in the first place.

Tony wasn’t in the tower either. He and most of the Avengers —minus Wanda, who was handling some covert operation somewhere in Eastern Europe— had to attend to an emergency mission across the country. Something about an alien invasion, though that must have been a regular occurrence given the responses from the team. They were serious, and concerned for the general public of course, but they didn’t seem too worried about going into battle against some ugly blue monsters. Kahlen wished she could’ve helped them, but she knew they had it handled, and she didn’t exactly want to expose herself. Instead, she watched them board the Quinjet and returned to the tower, alone.

To make a long story short: she was bored.

She’d been lounging on the couch flipping through channels in leggings and a tank top (why did Tony set the common room to be so hot?) to see if anything caught her interest when she heard a horrified gasp behind her. Whipping her head around, she was met with Wanda’s fierce wrath, mixed with a healthy dose of sadness, sympathy and homicidal rage. Her eyes flickered between hazel and glowing red, revealing just how angry she was. If Kahlen could just figure out what it was exactly she’d done to make her friend so upset, she’d be in great shape.

When Wanda eventually spoke, it was slow and deliberate, her control still wavering slightly. “Kahlen,” she began, cold fury lacing her words, “where did you get that scar?”

Oh shit.

Oh shit.

She’d forgotten. How could she have forgotten?

Because when she glanced down at her left shoulder, sure enough she found an ugly, splotchy red scar covering the whole of her upper arm, trailing partway down her back. 

“I… I-It’s not what it looks like,” Kahlen stuttered out, her eyes wide with shock and a little fear, anticipating how poorly this conversation was going to go.

“Was it your aunt and uncle?” Another flash of ruby red lit up Wanda’s eyes, lasting a little longer than she thought the hero intended.

“No, no they didn—”

“Was it Remus?” The thought horrified Kahlen, and she was quick to dissuade that line of thinking immediately.

“No! He would never—”

“Did something happen at your school?” So many things. A snake and dragons and blood and death and… was it getting harder to breathe?

“I-I… I don’t—” Yep, there was definitely less air in the room now than there was a minute ago. Her breaths were coming in gulps, though Wanda didn’t notice, so blinded by her anger.

“Then what happened? ” 

The room spun, then went black.

The last thing she saw was a blinding glow of scarlet before she was lost to the past.

— — —

The first thing Wanda noticed was the lack of lighting. She was surrounded by inky blackness on all sides, nothing to tell her where she was. It was so dark she could barely see two feet from her face. She waited a moment, trying to recall the last thing she remembered, when she noticed something in the distance. Just a spec at first, but as it moved towards her Wanda was able to get a closer look at it. It was white, brilliantly bright, shimmering despite the lack of light. It danced through the shadows, a tendril of light fighting back the darkness. It drifted up over her head, and a light broke out above her. Tilting her chin up to examine the glow, she recognized it as a street lamp. To her right, another burned into life. Then one on her left. Several more followed, showering her in a dim glow and revealing a bit more of her surroundings. 

Her feet were planted firmly on a cobblestone road, its condition poor but indicative of a historical significance. In front of her stood a charming cottage with vines covering the exterior and the gentle glow of candlelights radiating from the windows.

Despite the allure of the home before her, Wanda had her guard up, her defences ready. She had no idea how she’d gotten here, or where here was. The last thing she remembered was…

Huh, Wanda thought with a frown. Why can’t I remember?

She wracked her brain, trying to come up with a solution. It was on the tip of her tongue, just out of her reach when the cottage door opened, inviting her in. She would have rather stayed outside, endless nothingness on either side, but the lights started going out one by one. Whether the house was a trap or not, she readied her power and stepped through the threshold.

If it was a trap it was a very carefully laid one.The moment she was inside Wanda felt calmer, at home. She tried to fight it, but the pull was powerful. It distracted her long enough that she didn’t notice the woman resting on the carpet with a giggling baby girl in her arms, her vivid red hair sprawled around her, floating in pieces by means Wanda could not figure out. The woman raised a portion of hair, then let it fall to her shoulders only to lift it once more. Each release elicited a slightly strangled laugh from the baby, her eyes widening in wonder.

Coming back to herself, Wanda realized she’d been watching the two for several minutes and they hadn’t even glanced at her, the intruder in their home. She tried to enter the woman’s mind but could find no presence where she should have been.

Before she could question it too much, a man entered the room. His hair was dark and a complete mess, his eyes hidden behind an ugly pair of spectacles, but when he smiled down at his wife and child Wanda could see what the red-headed woman found so charming about him. His smile was captivating, drawing you in, forcing you to question just how a person could look so filled with joy and peace and love.

He joined the two on the floor and brought a wooden stick from his waistband, pointing it at the pair who continued to laugh at each drop of long red hair. Wanda almost dove to protect them, but he didn’t attack. He simply raised the wood and twirled it around, his wife’s hair following suit into a crazy updo that never would have held under normal conditions. The baby squealed in delight, reaching up to grab her mother’s newly knotted hair.

Wanda had no idea what was happening, what the stick was for, or how her hair was defying every law of gravity. Still, it all seemed so… domestic. Homey. Love practically radiated from every crevice of the place, pooling through the walls and covering them in a warm glow Wanda hadn’t felt since that shell collapsed her apartment. She missed her parents, missed her brother. She missed her old life, poor as they had been. But it wasn’t all bad. She had the Avengers now, and the glow was still there, just… different.

Somehow her thoughts trailing to the Avengers kickstarted Wanda’s memory. She sucked in a breath, recalling her conversation with Kahlen over the massive scar on her back. She remembered being angry, and Kahlen was nervous, and then nothing. It just stopped after that, no clues as to how she got to be where she was.

She assumed, dejectedly, that her powers had gone haywire and did this, though that didn’t explain the odd scene in front of her or the suspicious lack of her friend who had been not ten feet away from her.

She wasn’t given any more time to think on it. There was a crash from outside, followed by a resounding boom that shook the house. The couple shared a look of dread, then sprung into action, the woman grabbing the now crying baby and the man clutching his stick, staring down the door with a fierce determination. It seemed they’d already coordinated what to do in case of an attack such as this, but Wanda was out of the loop. She tried to read the man's mind but again, her powers couldn’t detect him. It was as if he didn’t exist. 

It occurred to Wanda for the first time that this may be a memory of sorts, the origin of which she had no idea. With that clarification in mind she knew what she had to do: wait. Whatever happened now had already happened, and there was nothing she could do to change it. If her powers brought her here then it must be important for her to know, so Wanda tried to relax her heart that jumped at every crash from outside.

Finally, the door opened. Or rather, it flew off its hinges and slammed against the wall behind her. From the doorway, in walked a man— no, scratch that, a monster — wearing black fabric draped along his body. His skin was pale, translucent even. His head was completely smooth, the highly visible veins in his head providing his only cover. His eyes were slits, like a snake’s, and Wanda figured he couldn’t be that distantly related. What was worse, though, was the big empty space in the middle of his face where his nose should’ve been. It was grotesque, the pale skin stretched over an oddly shaped lump, the nostrils vertical and thin, similar to his eyes. One thing was for sure: this was not a person to be trifled with.

His eyes found the man in the room. His arm rose, carrying a piece of wood similar to the one the younger man held steadily, pointed straight at the snake-man. From his stick came a flash of red, parried and returned by the snake-man in a blaze of green, forcing him to roll to the side. They continued back and forth several more times, Wanda’s anxiety growing with every near miss, but the man with the glasses was just not fast enough. The green light struck his chest, and he was dead before his body ever hit the ground. Wanda didn’t know him, but she mourned the loss of such a brave and selfless man.

Stepping over his body, the snake-man made his way to the stairs, excruciatingly slowly, as if he had all the time in the world. Wanda followed hesitantly, hoping against hope that the woman had escaped with her child somehow. Her hopes were torn to shreds as the snake-man knocked down another door, behind which stood the red head, covering a bassinet from the blast with her body.

“Move.” The hiss sounded exactly as Wanda expected, and yet so much more horrifying than she could ever imagine. It occurred to her that the man downstairs had never been asked to stand down. 

Obviously, the option made no difference. The woman shook her head, standing proudly as the emerald blast came for her too. Tears sprang to Wanda’s eyes as she heard the gut wrenching scream that came before the utter silence.

The snake-man looked once at the woman with no hint of regret, then raised his stick at the crying child who’d just watched both her parents die.

“NO!” Wanda tried to run forward, knowing she could do nothing to help and ignoring that fact all the same, but her feet felt glued to the floor. She could do nothing as a final bolt of green sliced through the air.

Instead of falling lifeless as her parents had done, the child remained standing, her eyes now dry. On her forehead now sat a glowing scar in the shape of a lightning bolt. The glow grew, building until it pushed every bit of darkness from the room. When it finally settled, the snake-man was gone, replaced by ashes, and the child had once again started crying, the cut on her forehead now red.

Wanda watched as the room began to fade back into nothingness, the wispy white light making itself known as it led her somewhere new. 

Her surroundings began to take shape. She saw stairs first, then a hallway with a kitchen just beyond. Under the stairs was a door with a sliding lock keeping it closed. She wondered what was so important in that cupboard that it warranted a lock, but a moment later she wished she hadn’t asked.

A woman with short black hair and a permanent scowl came from the kitchen wearing an apron. She rapped on the door and undid the lock, and to Wanda’s horror, out came a little girl, no older than six, rubbing sleep from her eyes. Wanda studied the kid; her long, messy brown hair, fair complexion, slight build and hazel eyes that seemed to shift from so bright they were almost green and a dark chocolate brown. If not for the scar on her forehead, she would look exactly like—

Wanda froze.

No. It couldn’t be…

She looked again, hoping to see something different, but all she could see was the sad little face that matched Kahlen’s perfectly.

Her mind was reeling. Kahlen had said her parents died in a car accident, but this… Wanda didn’t even know how to describe how horrible the murder of her friend’s parents had been. And she’d seen it. She may not remember it, but that kind of thing could mess a kid up. If anyone knew that, it was Wanda.

Mini-Kahlen looked up at the woman with big eyes. She wasn’t as good at hiding her emotions as her older self. Her gaze was filled with sadness, an innocence that only a child could have, longing for the love that she thought she wasn’t worth. Seeing that look in someone so young and defenceless brought tears to Wanda’s eyes, but they immediately dried in anger at the woman who stared down at the girl.

“What are you waiting for,” she snapped, bringing her hand up and slashing the back of it against her little cheek, still holding onto baby fat. Her eyes quickly filled with tears, spilling over the bruise already forming. “Get in that kitchen and cook the eggs.”

Wanda wanted to kill her. How an adult could be so cruel to a child under their care, she would never know. 

“Yes, aunt Petunia,” Kahlen muttered, her eyes on the ground as she hurried down the hall. Now vacant, Wanda could see into the cupboard, and she couldn’t help the hand that came to cover her mouth. 

It was Kahlen’s bedroom. There was a bed taking up most of the space and a couple of shelves by the head of the bed, scattered with a couple of figurines of knights in shining armour riding into the sunset with their rescued princesses. Wanda could only imagine the amount of times Kahlen wished to be the girl in the pretty dress that got taken away from her dungeon.

The room didn’t change, but the scene did. An older Kahlen, about 8 years old, came walking back from the kitchen, followed by a large man with a grimace that twisted his already ugly features into something worse. Behind them came the sounds of laughter, a party in full swing just out of Wanda’s view. Kahlen opened the door to the cupboard —to her bedroom — and sat down, barely flinching when the door slammed behind her, and the lock was put into place. Wanda forced herself to come closer, to peek through the slats of the vent in the door. Inside, Kahlen sat with her legs curled up to her chest, tears streaming down her face now that she was alone. Her sobs were completely silent, not a sound leaving her little, shaking body to disrupt the adults in the other room.

Wanda backed away a few steps. Had Kahlen ever cried in the tower, alone in the night when no one could see or hear? She’d gotten better at hiding the loneliness obvious in young Kahlen’s face, but those feelings were hard to let go of.

She stepped back up to the door only to find it empty. Walking through the doorway to the kitchen, she saw Kahlen —about 9 now— flipping pancakes, rolling dough into cinnamon rolls and making finger sandwiches. The movements were flawless, the girl zipping around the room with ease and the most comfortable expression she’d worn in this house thus far. When all the food was prepared on trays she took a moment to settle herself, and a few deep breaths later she carried it all outside, setting the trays on the coffee table then hurrying back inside only to run headfirst into a woman. She was large, larger than Kahlen’s uncle whom she presumed to be the crude woman’s brother.

“Watch where you’re going girl!” She whacked Kahlen on the side of her head. The girl made no noise, hardly reacted aside from the sour face she now wore. Clearly she didn’t like this woman, and for good reason. 

“Sorry Marge,” she muttered dispassionately. 

“And watch your tone,” Marge seethed, grabbing Kahlen’s ear harshly and tugging her down the hall, forcing a cry from the girl. She was shoved into her cupboard, the door closed with such force that it flew back open. Kahlen laughed, which only enraged Marge further. She pulled the girl up only to slap her back down and shut the door only slightly less hard, locking it behind her.

All of a sudden, Kahlen appeared and disappeared all around the house, at different ages and surrounded by different people; her aunt, her uncle, Marge, even a rotund boy about the same age as her. In every scenario she was pushed, slapped, backhanded, punched, kicked, even burned by oil on one occasion. And in every scenario, she made no sound, never protested, hardly cried.

Wanda couldn’t believe the strength she’d had even at such a young age. She just wanted to carry the little child away from this hellhole and take her somewhere safe, away from these horrible people.

The scene faded again, the inky white wisp building a new room. It was darker, with flashes of lightning coming through the old slats of wood. To her left was a staircase that looked like it would collapse with the slightest pressure. To her right, a couch housing the sleeping boy Wanda had seen push Kahlen on many occasions, her cousin, she presumed. The girl in question laid on the floor beside him, a threadbare blanket providing little warmth. Kahlen sat up on her elbows, eyeing the watch on her cousin’s wrist hanging over the side of the couch. The watch beeped loudly, and Kahlen turned to look at the dusty floor in front of her. Wanda couldn’t see what she was looking at, so she walked around the couch to get a better look.

“Make a wish Kahlen.” She blew out in front of her, kicking the dust up into a flurry and ruining the drawn birthday cake.

A pound on the door lined up perfectly with a bolt of lightning, waking everyone in the building. Despite its terrible condition, the door held out for a few more thuds, allowing the older Dursleys to come barreling down the stairs, rifle in hand. Finally, the door’s hinges gave out, and in came a beast of a man. He was easily over 8 feet tall, with long hair then transitioned into a scraggly beard. Everyone watched the giant man, waiting to see what he would do, expecting something terrible.

“Sorry about that,” he said genuinely, picking up the heavy door with ease and putting it back in place.

Wanda watched the man —Hagrid, he’d said— interact with the family, bending the gun with little effort and treating Kahlen with more kindness than she’d previously been shown from any other adult. The conversation they were having was filled with a lot of confusion on both of their parts, so Hagrid decided to lay it all out in the open.

“You’re a witch, Kahlen.”

A… a witch? What did he mean by witch? People called Wanda a witch because her magic was unnatural to them, but real witches? With the pointy hats and cauldrons and whatnot?

Suddenly the scene from the cottage made sense. The floating hair, seemingly defying gravity. The sticks that produced glowing colours, that killed Kahlen’s parents. They weren’t sticks at all; they were wands, casting spells.

Clearly Kahlen was skeptical, too.

“I… I can’t be a– a witch. I’m just… Kahlen. Just Kahlen!”

“Well, just Kahlen. Have you ever made anything happen? Anything you couldn't explain when you were angry or scared?” Kahlen's eyes relaxed, understanding.

Kahlen opened a letter Hagrid gave her, her eyes lighting up as she read it aloud. Her aunt and uncle got angry, but they were quickly shut down by the anger of the giant. He defended Kahlen’s parents, made it clear that Kahlen would be leaving with him, and gave her cousin a pig tail. Wanda was really starting to like this man.

The next few scenes happened in rapid-fire. 

Kahlen and Hagrid walking down a long road, shops lining both sides filled with moving things and brooms and owls and books and cauldrons.

Kahlen sitting in a train car with a familiar red-headed boy, stuffing their faces with candy while a bushy-haired brunette watched from the doorway.

Kahlen in a castle, sitting at a table filled with food, walking down ancient corridors, laughing with her new friends.

Kahlen, a little older, standing beneath a willow tree holding hands with a handsome boy with brown hair and a gentle smile, both leaning forward to share their first kiss.

Then they started to get a bit darker.

Kahlen running down wet corridors, a sword in hand and a fifty foot snake slithering behind her, trying to trap her in its jaws.

Kahlen by a lake in the middle of the night, covering the nearly dead body of a man in prisoner's clothes, black-cloaked demons wrenching something white from her body while she screamed in agony.

Kahlen on a broomstick, flying through the air with an angry dragon hot on her heels, ducking and swerving to avoid the fire.

Kahlen in a graveyard, trapped by a statue, her arm dripping blood and her face contorted in pain as the same snake-like man placed his thumb on the scar he gave her.

Kahlen in the same clothes, her sobbing body draped over the unmoving body of the boy she’d loved while all around there was music and laughter and cheers of congratulations.

Kahlen in a large room, screaming in an older man's arms as the man she’d fought to protect from the soul-sucking demons slipped through a veil of mist, disappearing from sight.

Kahlen watching a man with white hair and a long white beard fall off a balcony to the hard ground below.

Kahlen on a forest’s floor, Hermione pouring different vials of liquid onto a gaping wound in her shoulder, exactly where Wanda had seen the scar earlier, as Kahlen struggled to take in even the smallest breath.

Kahlen in a dingy basement cell, Hermione’s piercing wails echoing off the chamber while she stood powerless to help.

And finally, Kahlen back at the castle that had had so many happy memories, now strewn with dead bodies, littered with people fighting on all sides. Kahlen sprinting into the forest to meet the man that had killed her parents and doing nothing as he used the same spell on her. Kahlen pulling him off a cliff, duelling with him, stealing his wand and watching him dissolve into nothingness.

When it was all said and done, the white wisp returned to clear the images away, revealing the real Kahlen huddled in the corner of the common room, gasping for air through the sobs that wracked her body. Still trying to wrap her head around everything she’d just seen, Wanda knelt down and wrapped her arms around the young woman who was so much more courageous than any of the Avengers could have possibly imagined.

— — —

She’d tried to stop it, honestly she had. As much as Kahlen was a terrible occlumens, she was a very good legilimens. Unfortunately that power sometimes went crazy with her emotions, and this time she’d accidentally latched on to Wanda’s powers and forced her to see all the PTSD flashbacks Kahlen saw every time she thought too much about her past. Once the floodgates opened she couldn’t fight it, so she sat there and endured the replay of every terrible thing that had happened to her, focusing all her energy into forcing air in and out of her lungs.

By the end of it she had lost all connection to reality. She barely felt Wanda’s arms holding her together, didn’t really notice her hands moving gently through her dishevelled hair. Faintly, she could hear someone saying breathe, over and over, at the same pace as the chest pressed against her side rose and fell. As the foggy panic in her head started to clear she began to hear other things as well.

You’re alright.

I’m right here.

You’re not alone.

And for the first time since coming to the tower, Kahlen really believed it.

When she finally regained her composure Kahlen looked up at the older witch who now knew more than she’d ever intended to tell. The compassion and acceptance in her gaze had Kahlen breaking down again, her tears coming slower, out of both sadness and relief as opposed to panic.

“I’m so tired,” she sobbed into her friend's chest. “I’m so tired of lying.”

And so she told the truth. She told Wanda everything, all the pain and suffering, all the responsibility she’d been given before she was ready for it, all the loss and grief. She told her about all the good things too, the happy moments, the laughter, the wonder of a new world where she hoped to finally belong. She told her how scared she was to tell the others, and how she worried she might never be ready to really let them in. But Wanda shook her head.

“Kahlen, if what I’ve just seen is only a fraction of what you’ve really been through, I have no doubt you’re strong enough for this. Until you feel the time is right, I won’t say a word. But if you ever need someone to lean on, I’ll be here.” Kahlen knew that she meant it. She knew it as they went up the elevator, as they walked into her room, as Wanda helped her get into her bed and sat by her side to stave away the monsters that clawed at her mind, night after night.

And for the first time in ages, Kahlen slept free from the nightmares that plagued her. They cowered away from the strong-willed woman at her side, her scarlet magic forcing them back to the past where they belonged.

Chapter Text

When the team returned to the tower a few days later they were surprised to find Kahlen’s normally snarky nature had turned sullen. The girl walked from room to room making barely a sound, thoroughly worrying her friends. The only one who didn’t seem particularly worried was Wanda, her eyes trailing after the cloudy eyed young woman with sadness but no distress. Finally, after many failed attempts at conversation, the Avengers had had enough.

“Ok Wanda, spill.” Tony eyed the red head with suspicion, Steve to his left and Nat on his right. Wanda sighed, setting her book in her lap to look at them, unimpressed.

“Spill what?” She asked innocently. Tony narrowed his eyes at her.

“You know what. My daughter has been depressed since we’ve gotten back, and I know it’s not just because her friends left,” he said. “So, spill.”

Wanda sighed. “She’s fine, Stark. She just… she had a nightmare, that’s all.”

“A nightmare?” Tony was not convinced. “A nightmare has had her moping around for days?”

“It was… bad. Really bad.” She grimaced at the memory, the abuses Kahlen had suffered had been replaying in her mind since she first saw them.

Steve raised his eyebrows in surprise. “She told you about it? She wouldn’t tell us anything when she woke up screaming,” he grumbled. Tony hated to admit it, but he felt jealous as well. He was her father, why would she talk to Wanda and not him?

“Actually, it makes sense,” Nat reasoned. Tony shot her an incredulous look —she was supposed to be on their side!— but she ignored him. “Whatever Kahlen has nightmares about is probably related to her childhood, right?” Wanda reluctantly nodded. “So Wanda, who has no previous ties to Kahlen’s life, would be a better option to open up to than the father she just learned she had,” she stated calmly. Tony blushed, but accepted the explanation easily enough. Steve, on the other hand, furrowed his brows.

“What about me? I’m not connected to her past, and she still didn’t tell me.” He hated to admit it, but he felt snuffed.

“Probably because you were with Tony,” Wanda said quickly, trying to jump on the excuse Nat had given her.

“I guess,” Steve muttered.

“It’s not about who she trusts more,” Wanda insisted.

“Then what’s it about?” If there was a way for Tony to get Kahlen to open up to him, he had to know.

“Timing,” Wanda said. “I was here when she needed to talk.” She hadn’t meant to shame Tony. It wasn’t his fault that he was needed on a mission. They both knew that, and so did Kahlen. But the words hurt him anyway.

Wanda stood, and placed her hand on his shoulder. “Tony,” she said softly, waiting for him to look up. “She’ll tell you when she’s ready.”

He didn’t know how much longer he could wait.

— — —

Steve found Kahlen that night, absentmindedly kneading some dough in the empty common room.  He almost backed away before she could see him, but he managed to steel his resolve.

“Hey Kahlen,” he said as nonchalantly as possible. She glanced over at him, surprised, then smiled.

“Hey Steve,” she responded, somehow sensing none of his nerves. “What’s up?”

“Not much.” This was going badly. “So, um… well, I actually wanted to… uh… you see, the thing is—”

“Steve,” she stopped him, smiling dubiously as the blush spread across his cheeks. “Breathe. Try again.” They both chuckled. It wasn’t often that Captain America got tongue-tied.

“I… Do you want to go see the Statue of Liberty with me tomorrow?” He blurted, blushing deeper. Kahlen’s mouth dropped open in surprise.

“I…” she struggled to find the words. “I don’t know if that’s a good idea.”

He deflated a little, but his resolve didn’t waver. He needed to get Kahlen out of the house. Staying here would just make her feel more down, he was sure of it. She needed to roam a little.

“It’ll be fun,” he promised. She started to protest again but he could tell she was breaking. “Please? You did say we would go another day, remember?” Her shocked look was met with a grin.

“Are you trying to manipulate me?” She asked, laughing. “Cheeky bugger.” He wiggled his eyebrows, making her laugh again. “Alright, fine. 10:00am. Don’t be late.” Her dough was rolled properly by now, so she placed it in the oven. When she turned around, Steve had the breath knocked from his chest. The smile that she gave him, the one he’d not seen for too many days, was blinding. It lit up her face, and for the first time Steve allowed himself to really appreciate just how gorgeous she was. He’d always stopped any thoughts like that, afraid that they would be obvious in his face. He was terrified that Tony would notice how often his eyes lingered on her lips or got lost in her eyes, such a strange combination of green and brown. He looked into them now, and he forced himself to swallow the swell of emotions that filled him. 

“10:00am, you got it,” he said eagerly. With that, he turned away with a skip in his step.

— — —

At precisely 9:55 the next morning, Steve stood in the lobby of Avengers Tower, tapping his feet against the sparkling tiles anxiously and checking his watch every few seconds. He hadn’t wanted to overdo it with his outfit, so he wore blue jeans and a simple T-shirt, with a Stark Industries hat and glasses for good measure. 

Just after his thirty-second check of his watch, Steve saw Kahlen step out of the private elevator. She wore a light blue sundress with a pattern of yellow and white flowers, her strappy white sandals with little heels clicking as she walked. Her hair was gently curled, cascading over her shoulders. When her eyes found his, that smile once again graced her face, and Steve couldn’t imagine anything he would rather see than her happiness, knowing he was the reason for it.

“Hey,” she breathed through her smile. “That disguise is terrible, by the way.”

“It fooled you,” he grinned.

Kahlen rolled her eyes. “Hardly. Your baby blues are too identifiable, even hiding behind the glasses.” They laughed, making their way out of the building and going from a taxi to the Staten Island Ferry.

Once on the island, the two of them just spent the day exploring; walking the trails, watching the penguins at the zoo, eating shitty food truck hot dogs just for the experience, completely surprised when they tasted good. They waited in a lineup for over an hour just to get up to the crown of the Statue of Liberty. Steve knew he could’ve taken his disguise off and they might’ve treated him differently, but he didn’t care. It wasn’t about the sightseeing, it was about who he was seeing it with. They talked the entire day, somehow not running out of things to say, just laughing and enjoying each other’s company. 

By the time the sun was setting, lighting the sky in brilliant shades of orange and yellow, the two of them were on the ferry ride back to Manhattan. For the first time since their trip started, they were quiet, watching the sun inch closer to the horizon. When Kahlen’s head settled gently on his shoulder his heart skipped a beat. He looked down at her, admiring the serenity in her expression. Turning back to the view, he tried to scrape together the confidence to speak.

“Kahlen,” he said softly, heart pounding. “I have to be honest. There’s a reason I wanted to spend the day with you.” He took in a shaky breath, then pushed on.

“I like you,” he confessed. “I really, really like you. And I know that there’s an age difference, and I don’t know all that much about you, and Tony would definitely kill me, but… god, just seeing you smile is enough to make me happy, and I—”

He cut himself off.

Resting against his shoulder, Kahlen had fallen into a deep, peaceful sleep. She looked so calm, so vulnerable, the ghost of a smile still twinging her face. What was there to do, really, other than let her enjoy whatever rest she could, nestled up against him?

He checked his watch once more, noting the date. 

July 4th, he thought. He smiled at Kahlen once again.

Happy birthday, Steve.

— — —

He’s upset with me. I’ve done something wrong. I’ve done something to make him angry with me.

The thoughts played over and over in her head, ever since she woke up to find Steve avoiding her gaze. It wasn't her imagination, she was sure of that; he was deliberately turning his head away from her whenever she tried to find his eyes, his cheeks slightly red. It took her a few minutes to figure it out, but then it hit her.

She’d fallen asleep.

On his shoulder.

After spending the entire day together.

Obviously he was embarrassed for her. He probably thought she was being forward, and though she wouldn’t deny that everything about Steve drew her in, falling asleep had been an accident.

Once they were back at the tower she tried to break out of the elevator as quickly as possible, trying to outrun her humiliation and just get to the safety of her room, but Steve caught her hand. Finally, his eyes met hers, and they were serious. Calm. Sexy.

Sexy? She thought with surprise. Had she just called him sexy?

God, this day was messing with her mind. He was just trying to be friendly to his coworker’s daughter, why did she have to make such a big deal of it?

But… It was nice to be important to someone who didn’t want her to fulfill some prophecy. Someone who just wanted to be around her for her.

He tugged her hand with a little pressure, silently asking her to stay, and she did. Leaning across her, he pressed the button for the topmost floor, his eyes leaving hers only briefly. The doors opened to the roof, revealing the dark sky with a surprising amount of stars twinkling back at them.

“Wow,” Kahlen gasped, awed at the sight before her. Steve studied her face, trying to read her emotions but she couldn’t even figure them out for herself. Regardless, whatever he saw in the wide eyed expression she wore, it made him smile. He pulled them forward, slowly, allowing her to take it all in. Then she spotted Orion’s belt, and it was her pulling him instead, rushing over to the guardrails to get a better look.

“Look! You can see Orion!” She pointed the stars out excitedly, connecting them for Steve when he insisted they made no sense. “You see those three stars clustered close right there? That’s Orion’s Belt,” she explained. “My godfather taught me all about the stars. He said they told the stories of the people that came before us.”

“That little zig-zag is Cassiopeia. She was a queen, but she said she was more beautiful than the Nereids, the sea nymphs. She angered Poseidon, so he punished her for her vanity.” She recited the story like Sirius had told her one night. “And that one there is Centaurus, the father of the centaurs. Just there, with the arms and the legs.” She stared up at the sky, looking for every star, every constellation, whether she knew it or not.

“Beautiful, isn’t it?” She asked breathlessly.

“Gorgeous.” Maybe it was the way he said it slowly, or the husk in his tone, but something in Steve’s voice made her turn away from the stars to find him looking directly at her. Now she was breathless for an entirely different reason.

The way he watched her was like he was trying to make up for every second on the ferry, in the taxi, on the elevator avoiding her gaze. It was intense, the heat behind it palpable. Her eyes flicked down to look at his lips without her permission, but once she did there was no going back.

He stepped closer, reaching one hand up to trace along her cheek and down to the base of her neck. The other hand found hers, rubbing gently on the back of her hand. The touch made her shiver. Any embarrassment she’d had about misreading signals were thrown out the window as he pulled her in and leaned down.

At first, it was just a light brush against her lips. Even that was enough for the sparks to fire, and both of them closed their eyes. Kahlen melted into him, her lips moving in tandem with his. She was surprised at how soft they were. When she pulled away, she rested her forehead against his, eyes closed and gasping slightly for breath. Her tongue flicked out to taste what was left of him on her lips. 

Strawberry, she recognized.

“Kahlen?” She distantly heard Steve call her name, still working her way down from the high of their kiss. The stars behind her closed eyes were almost as bright as the ones Steve had shared with her. 

“Hmm?” She replied absentmindedly. 

“What the hell is this scar on your hand?”

Chapter Text

Kahlen’s eyes shot open to find Steve no longer looking at her face but glaring at her hand, the trails he’d been tracing stopped because something got in the way.

I will not tell lies.

Her eyes widened, cheeks turning red. The glamour must have faded. She hadn’t even noticed, so wrapped up in stargazing.

“It’s nothing!” She squeaked, trying to pull her hand free and hide it but Steve just tightened his grip.

“That’s not nothing,” he seethed. He took a few deep breaths, then spoke again. “Does anyone else know?” He asked, his voice measured and tight.

She shook her head slightly.

“Jesus,” he muttered under his breath, analyzing the jagged red markings of her hand. “How the hell have you managed to hide it for this long?” His anger grew, his voice rising with every word he spoke. “And why? Why wouldn’t you tell us, why—” 

He cut himself off, eyes blazing in a fury Kahlen never thought she’d see on his face. She followed his gaze to the scar on her shoulder, and then the lightning bolt on her forehead. Apparently, that was his tipping point.

He gripped her arm and pulled her back into the tower, setting a breakneck pace as she stumbled behind him. She tried several times to pull her arm away, to ask where he was taking her, but he didn’t slow down, didn’t seem to notice. He was on a mission, and nothing would deter him.

She thought about glamouring the scars now, but he hadn't just glimpsed them. He’d stared at them, analyzed them. If they disappeared now it would just be more suspicious.

By the time they reached the common room her arm had started aching and her frustration was through the roof. They slowed to a stop, his grip loosening enough that she was able to rip her arm free and glare at the supersoldier. She tried to make it clear just how much she did not appreciate his manhandling, but by his matching glare she guessed he didn’t care.

“What, uh… What’s going on you guys?” Tony asked, both curious and cautious. Steve’s stomping had brought everyone’s attention onto them, and unfortunately for Kahlen the entire team was lounging or cooking or eating. They had an audience. Great.

“Show them.” Steve was demanding, not requesting, but she shook her head anyway.

“ No,” she spat. He narrowed his eyes but she made no move to make her hand visible to them, so he did it for her. He went to grab her hand again but she pulled it away, hiding it behind her back. Instead of giving up like she knew he wouldn't, Steve reached around her, his arm encircling her in an odd kind of embrace before he managed to grasp her scarred hand.

“Woah, hey!” Tony jumped up from his seat, prepared to help his daughter get out of an uncomfortable situation but he stopped short, spotting the red puckered skin on the back of her hand that Steve held forward. “What…” he said slowly, unable to process what he was seeing. 

The others had gotten up by then, coming close enough to see it, too. Kahlens face burned from all the pitying and angry stares. Only slightly over their shock, they all started to step closer as if the scar were a magnet, drawing them in. She tried to back away but they were all around her, circling her. The closer they got and the longer they looked, the more scars they found and the angrier they became.

“Where did that come from?”

“Why haven’t you shown us?”

“Who did this?”

“How did we miss this?”

“What does it mean, ‘I will not tell lies’?”

Wanda tried to redirect them, tugging on sleeves and telling them to give Kahlen some space but nothing worked. They cared about her, more than she knew, and when someone you care about is hurt you want to protect them. What they didn’t realize was that their crowding was just making her panic, her breaths becoming shorter and her magic beginning to add electricity to the air.

“Why didn’t you tell us?” Tony implored with more outrage than she thought he meant to show.

“It’s none of your business,” she snapped, still trying to control the hysteria growing in her head. 

“It is my business! You’re my business!” Tony shouted furiously. “I know you’ve been through a lot, we all know that, but we can’t help you if you won’t open up to us!”

“You have no idea what I’ve been through,” she hissed.

“So tell us!” He was practically begging now, the rest of the Avengers nodding along. “We’ve all had hard lives, and the only way to keep living is to let other people in! For god’s sake, you went through the trouble of covering up all these scars, and for what? So that we wouldn’t see them? We all have scars, and they all have some traumatic origin. I know what it feels like to want to hide the nastier parts of your life away, we all do. But sharing it with the people that care about you makes it easier, I promise. And we care about you, Kahlen! So please, just tell us the truth!”

She snapped.

“I never asked for you to care about me!” She exploded. She stalked towards Tony, each slow step punctuated by her rage. “I never wanted you to know I existed! My life is an absolute mess, I never asked for any of you to be a part of it. I did everything in my power to prevent that, but you pushed your way in, all of you did!” She was crying now, but she could hardly feel the tears. “And now you’re going to leave me, too! Like my parents, like Cedric, like Sirius. None of this would have happened if you had just signed the goddamn papers!”

Everything stopped. As Kahlen’s fury simmered down she realized why.

While blind with anger, her magic had built, and built, until it shattered what little restraint she had on it. It flew out of her, knocking her friends —were they even friends anymore?— back a few steps. They stared at her; at her long hair floating of its own will, filled with static that crackled and snapped in the air; at her eyes glowing from the accidental magic; at her hands letting off sparks every few seconds, her magic itching to be used. Their eyes were filled with fear and distrust, all but Wanda who just looked sad.

Kahlen looked back at them, mortified.

They hate me.

They’re scared of me.

They’re going to hurt me.

She couldn’t tell if she was imagining the cold hatred in their eyes, but it didn’t matter. They would never want her around after this, so she did what she knew would be best for everyone involved.

She apparated away, leaving behind confused, angry and heartbroken Avengers in her wake.

Chapter Text

You could hear a pin drop in the silence that followed Kahlen’s disappearance. Questions ran through everyone’s minds, none of them with plausible answers.

Tony stared at the spot his daughter had stood mere seconds ago, his brain completely shutting down. All the tension in the room had vanished with her, leaving behind air that felt like it was clogging his throat.

Or maybe it was just him.

“You should have let her tell you when she was ready,” Wanda sighed, her accent heavy with anger.

Tony’s brain short-circuited. He had thought all of his frustration had left with Kahlen, but apparently there was some left.

“You knew!” He raged at her, advancing on the young woman 26 years his junior but she stood her ground, chin raised in the air in defiance.

“Yes, I did,” she stated calmly.

“And you didn’t think to tell us? She’s my daughter!”

“And she’s my friend!” Her eyes flashed dangerously. “She deserves her privacy! How would any of you have felt being forced to share before you were ready?” They looked to their feet in shame.

“We just wanted to help,” Steve weakly defended.

“If you’d really wanted to help you wouldn’t have pushed her!” Wanda’s eyes flashed once again. She took several deep breaths, willing her powers into submission. “She’s had a hard life,” she explained quietly, “harder than any of you could imagine. So excuse her if she didn’t feel quite ready to share.” With that, she turned on her heel and walked away, leaving the others to wonder what Kahlen had been through that even they wouldn’t be able to understand.

— — —

He was an idiot. He was such an idiot.

Steve stood in place for a solid ten minutes after Wanda stormed out before making his way to the elevator in a daze. He had no idea how he ended up in the gym but before he knew it his hands were pounding into a punching bag. The skin of his knuckles split open, blood seeping from the wounds, but he felt nothing. Nothing but guilt, shame, and anger.

He shouldn’t have exposed Kahlen like that. You don’t do that to the people you love. Whatever gave her those scars must have left her with a truckload of trauma, and if anyone should be able to understand that it was the Avengers.

He scoffed. Some heroes we are.

His fist found the sand-filled bag again.

If he had just listened to her, given her a chance to explain— 

He paused.

No. She didn’t need to explain anything to him. Her past was difficult, he knew that much, and if she wasn’t ready to share then he shouldn’t have pushed her. 

Steve glared down at his bloodied hands, then stumbled back to the elevator, his mind filled to the brim with apologies no one was around to receive.

— — —

Hours later, Wanda intended to leave her room to quickly grab some food, still not wanting to be around the people that drove away her friend, only to find them sitting scattered around the common room. Each of their expressions were blank, their thoughts occupied. The TV was off, and none of them spoke.

She was still angry, but she was sympathetic, too. She tried to imagine what she would’ve done after she saw Kahlen’s scars had she not been pulled into her traumatic past. She wanted to believe she would have handled it better, but truthfully she could understand why Steve had done what he’d done. For this reason, she decided to take pity on them.

“She’s a witch.” That got their attention. They stared at Wanda blankly, not understanding.

“I thought you were friends?” Bruce frowned at the girl. Friends or not, he didn’t like the idea of someone insulting his fellow Science Bro’s daughter.

“No, I didn’t mean—”

“Yeah, what’s this about? Kahlen’s a nice kid,” Clint added. Laura always says he picks up stray kids like there’s no tomorrow, and he supposed she was right. He cared about Kahlen enough to defend her but also cared enough about Wanda to believe she wouldn’t say something so crass.

“That’s not—” Wanda sighed in frustration. “She’s an actual witch. Like, a spell-casting, cauldron-brewing, broomstick-flying witch.”

“A… a witch?” Nat asked.

“I thought you were a witch,” Sam questioned. Wanda had magic, or at least that’s what they called her telekinetic and telepathic abilities, for lack of a better term. But real witches? They were fairy tales. He could tell by the looks on everyone’s faces that they agreed.

“Not really,” Wanda replied. She tried to think of the best way to explain it to them. “You know how everyone always says magic is just science we don’t yet understand?” They nodded. “Well, that’s the kind of magic I use. We don’t yet know why or how I can do what I do, but we do know it’s the result of scientific experiments. But Kahlen… the magic she uses is a part of her, it has been from the minute she was born. It’s not science, not for us to dissect and understand. It just… is. And there’s a whole secret world out there, with the same magic she has.”

“So… witches?” Nat still struggled, even after the explanation.

“And wizards, yes,” Wanda confirmed.

“And her friends that visited from England, they were…” Steve trailed off, unsure of what answer he was hoping for.

“Witches and wizards,” she nodded. “They all went to a magical school, too. That’s where they met.”

“That’s why Tony couldn’t find anything on her education,” Rhodey realized. “That school name she gave us probably doesn’t even exist.” He looked over to his friend but the man had hardly reacted, just furrowed his brows in concentration, his eyes glued to the wall.

“Exactly.” Wanda sighed with relief. They’re getting it. “But that’s not all. Her magic… even among her own kind she’s powerful, really powerful. A few years back they were in the middle of a war—”

“A war? There was a war and we didn’t even know?” Sam found that hard to believe.

“Yes, keep up.” Wanda shot him a glare and he put his hands up in surrender, urging her to continue. “Anyway, the man behind this war, they called him the Dark Lord. He was… evil, in the truest sense of the word, to his very core. He was the reason Kahlen’s parents died.” She didn’t want to give too much away, wasn’t sure how much Kahlen would hate her for sharing. “At the end of the war, Kahlen was the one to kill the Dark Lord. She’s sort of famous in their world.”

Steve turned to Clint. “That explains the little girl that wanted her autograph,” he said. A look of realization crossed Clint’s face and he pointed back at Steve, agreeing.

“What are you saying?” Everyone turned to Tony who had finally decided to speak up. He looked angry, but more than that he looked confused. “That my daughter has powers, that she’s a war veteran?” He didn’t want to believe it. If what Wanda was saying was true, then that would mean she was fighting for her life and he’d had no idea. He didn’t even know she existed. She could have died before he even knew he had a daughter, and he would’ve lived the rest of his life none the wiser. 

Wanda simply shrugged. “You’ll have to ask Kahlen for more details if she comes back.” And with that, she left again.

Nobody missed her use of the word if.

Chapter Text

It had been six days since Kahlen left the tower, and she had no intention of going back. She knew they probably hated her now, or at the very least they would be afraid. She didn’t blame them. Still, she wished things had turned out differently.

After leaving the Avengers, she had apparated back to England. Most witches and wizards could only manage short distances, but being the Mistress of Death had its perks. She’d appeared directly into the main hall of Potter Manor before breaking down on the floor.

When the war ended, Kahlen had been looking for a place to stay. The Dursleys were out of the question on account of them being the worst, and she didn’t want to be a burden on her friends. She’d considered using her vast funds to buy her own place but anyone selling would spread the word that the Chosen One was living in their old house. Luckily, Remus had had a better option for her.

“Why don’t you just stay at Potter manor?” He asked.

Kahlen looked at him. “...what?”

“Potter Manor? Your ancestral house?”

“I have an ancestral house?” She couldn’t fathom it.

“You have several, actually, but this is the most used one. It’s where your grandparents lived, where your father grew up. You didn’t know?”

She looked at him, silently asking ‘are you serious?’.

Remus blushed. “Right, of course. My apologies, how were you to know.” Kahlen laughed, letting him off the hook. “Well, after James’ parents died the ownership passed to him, but he and Lily had to go into hiding and the Order thought a smaller house would be less conspicuous, so they stayed at the cottage in Godric’s Hollow, another Potter property. After their… passing, the deed to the estate fell to you.”

Kahlen was still reeling from the fact that she had multiple homes under her name. She knew she was wealthy, but growing up living under the stairs really did a number on her.

“So… I have a house?” She asked tentatively.

Remus chuckled. “You have a mansion on an estate, as well as a summer home, three penthouse apartments, two houses and several cottages.”

Kahlen’s jaw dropped.

“Bloody hell,” she breathed.

Thankfully, the magical bonds of the wizarding world did not discriminate between blood as much as some pure-bloods wished to believe. Despite the fact that she had no blood relation to the Potter House, as James’ adopted daughter she was the only heir. Unfortunately, the houses were not the only thing she assumed ownership of.

Remus gave Kahlen the address (more like the coordinates, but same difference), and Kahlen packed up her things from the Burrow as quickly as she could. For once she was thankful to not have many belongings.

Apparating to the front courtyard, Kahlen was shocked. The place was huge! Even Malfoy Manor was nowhere near the size of this behemoth. It was like a palace, with several wings and at least four floors from what she could see. The walls were an elegant white stone, the turrets covered with ivy that just enhanced their beauty. The front walkway and courtyard were lined by perfectly trimmed bushes and rows of manicured flower beds. Upon entering the house through the opulent front doors that spanned over twice her height, Kahlen got her first glimpse of the interior.

The entire thing screamed elegance, magnificence dripping from every crevice. The chandelier far above her head was at least six feet wide, glittering with grandeur. Under her feet was a rug that she was positive cost more than she’d ever cost the Dursley’s over her many years with them. In front of her was a double staircase leading to the next floor, lined with paintings and portraits, though not the moving kind.

Before she could explore any further, Kahlen found her path blocked by a petite house-elf, her odd little face split open by the happiest smile she’d ever seen, tears streaming down her face.

“Mistress! Ditty is so happy to have you home again!”

Wait… what?!

“M-Mistress? I’m not your mistress!”

“Of course you are,” Ditty giggled, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “You are James Potter’s daughter, heir to the Good and Virtuous House of Potter, and Ditty is the house-elf belonging to the House of Potter. You are Ditty's Mistress!”

Kahlen was going to throw up. Owning a house-elf went against everything she believed in. She set Dobby free for that exact reason!

“Oh, Ditty is so happy! Ditty hasn’t seen Mistress since she was a baby!” Ditty wrapped her arms around Kehlen’s legs, squeezing tight.

“Look… Ditty, you don’t need to be a servant anymore. I’ll set you free, you can travel and—” she stopped abruptly when the two-and-a-half foot tall house-elf simply turned and walked away from her.

“No,” she said calmly.

“Wait! I’m trying to free you Ditty, I don’t want you to serve me—”

“Too bad,” Ditty shrugged. 

“You… you don’t want to be freed?” Ditty shook her head vehemently. “Why not?”

“Potter Manor is Ditty's home,” she explained. “It is Ditty's duty and right to serve the House of Potter.” 

“But—”

“Mistress's family has been good to Ditty. Please, allow Ditty to continue serving you as she should have been doing your whole life.”

She wouldn’t be deterred, so Kahlen let her be. She’d tried over the next few weeks to present Ditty with clothes, but everytime she refused. It was evident that Kahlen’s ancestors had treated her well, because Ditty didn’t fear her at all. It was better that way, though. Ditty was more of an overbearing friend to her than a servant.

No one could say she didn’t do a good job, either. As the only Potter house-elf it was her responsibility to take care of the estate, which she’d done amazingly. Kahlen gazed out over the vast expanse of land, acre after acre that now belonged to her, every tree with its leaves in place, every bush trimmed and the grass freshly mowed.

As if summoned —which Kahlen was quite sure she hadn’t done— Ditty appeared next to her with a pop.

“Tea and Biscuits, Mistress?” The platter she held in her little hands was filled with all sorts of cookies and an old china teapot and teacup.

“Ditty, what have we talked about?” She rolled her eyes with a smile.

“Apologies, Mistress Kahlen,” Ditty smirked, offering a filled cup that Kahlen took gratefully.

“Ditty, enough with the Mistress, please,” she laughed. “It makes me feel a million years old.”

“Mistress Kahlen is the best you’ll get from Ditty,” she replied with a grin and a shrug. Kahlen pulled a second chair closer to the one she sat on and patted the cushion, asking Ditty to sit. She did so without hesitation, setting the platter on the table between them. They sat in companionable silence, the sun beating down on them.

“Ditty… how would one forge a signature on a legal document?” The house-elf was not amused.

“Ditty doesn’t know that it is possible, Mistress. Ditty has never heard it done before in her many years of service.” She stressed the time, implying that if anyone were to know a way it would be someone who had served generations of powerful wizards. “Perhaps Mistress’s friends could provide more information?”

Kahlen wasn’t sure they could, but even she could admit she needed some social interaction.

“Very well, Ditty,” Kahlen sighed, sitting up. “I’ll be back in a couple hours.”

Once alone, Ditty smiled to herself and took a bite from a biscuit. Mistress will be gone much longer than that.

— — —

Kahlen apparated to the border of Lupin Cottage’s protective wards. She almost stepped through, almost alerted the family to her presence, when she caught sight of them outside in the meadow behind their home. 

Remus crouched in the tall grass, his arms outstretched to little Teddy who toddled away from his mother. The three of them shared beautifully big smiles, happy with nothing but each other.

Kahlen’s smile was sad, dampened by her tears.

All it took was seeing this happiness for her to realize what she’d missed. She didn’t go to New York for Remus. As much as she wanted his happiness, she knew that he would be happy with or without a marriage certificate. 

She went because, deep down, she wanted to meet her father. She wanted to know the man that helped create her, the last living relative she had.

For that reason, Kahlen knew what she had to do. She had to return to the tower, had to come clean. She hoped that honesty would get her that signature, because Remus still deserved the option of marrying his mate, all werewolves did, and there were other rights that they deserved as well, rights that she could help them achieve. But more than that, she was going back because she wanted to have a relationship with her father, one built on trust and honesty rather than lies.

With that in mind, Kahlen apparated back to Avengers Tower, ready to make things right.

Chapter Text

Kahlen appeared directly in her bedroom at the tower, needing a moment to herself before the others were alerted to her presence. She took a few deep breaths, trying to prepare herself for what she was about to do.

“Friday?” She called out, voice shaking slightly. “Could you please ask everyone to meet in the conference room?”

“Peter and colonel Rhodes are visiting the tower. Would you like them to be in attendance as well?” Her voice was as calm as ever, giving no indication as to whether the AI had noticed Kahlen’s absence. Maybe none of them had noticed, she thought dejectedly. 

“Y-yes, please. Thank you Fri.” 

“Of course.” She paused. “It’s great to have you back, miss Potter.”

Kahlen smiled to herself. “Thanks Friday.” She sighed. “It’s good to be back.” And it was true. Despite the dread she felt for what was about to happen, being back at the tower brought her a sense of comfort. She saw the doors to her closet that was filled with clothes Tony had bought her, just so she’d have something of her own in this new place. On her dresser sat a little American flag from her day around New York with Steve and Clint; beside it was a foam crown resembling the one worn by the statue of liberty. She turned to see her side table, scattered with hair elastics from her braiding sessions with Nat and Wanda. 

She turned her back on the room and headed to the elevator, stepping out into the floor housing the conference rooms. Standing outside the doors of the main conference room, she took one last deep breath, then opened the doors.

Inside the room, the Avengers sat around the table. Most looked up at her, confirming she was real. Peter smiled widely at her, his knowledge of the situation more limited than the rest of them. Tony stood up to meet her, his face betraying his nerves. He stood in front of her, awkward, mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water.

“Kahlen, I… I’m so—” she cut off his apology by raising her hand.

“Don’t.” His face fell, and she was quick to explain herself. She didn’t want him thinking she was angry when in truth she was just as nervous as he was. “Just… listen first. Please.” She pleaded with her eyes and he relented reluctantly, sitting back in his seat. She kept walking to the end of the table, locking eyes with Wanda on the way. Her friend just nodded, conveying her silent support, to which Kahlen smiled. Beside Wanda sat Steve, who hadn’t looked up once since she entered the room, his head hung low, eyes on the expensive wooden table.

At the head on the table, Kahlen looked out over the confused faces, steeling her resolve.

“Hey,” she said, dispelling her nerves. “Let’s just cut to the chase: I’m going to tell you the truth. All of it. And at the end of my story we can come to a decision.” Clint raised his hand. “You don’t have to do that Clint,” she chuckled softly, and he smiled.

“Right, sorry,” he laughed. “Um… what decision are we making?”

She sucked in a breath. “The decision of whether I can stay at the tower or not.” All at once they began to protest but she silenced them with her hand. “Please. Just listen.” They quieted, but each of them seemed determined to prove that she would stay with them.

“Um, Kahlen…” Wanda spoke up sheepishly. “I may have already filled them in a bit.” Her cheeks reddened, but Kahlen just smirked at her.

“I figured you might’ve,” she admitted. “So what do you know already?” She directed the question at the whole group who looked ashamed, with the exception of Peter who was still in the dark.

“We know you’re a witch,” Sam blurted out. “And that you were involved in a war against the guy that killed your parents,” he added. Kahlen nodded, satisfied by how little information Wanda had revealed on her behalf.

“Woah, you’re a witch?!” Peter gaped at her, his ever present smile bright as always. “That’s sick! Do you do, like, magic and stuff? And make potions? I read this article about the witch hunts, and some people thought that witches were actually using potions to make other people appear magical so that they would be killed, which is just crazy cool if you think about it, I mean, how did—”

“Pete.” Peter looked at Tony questioningly. “Maybe let her answer?”

“Oh. Right.” He blushed. “Sorry.”

Kahlen laughed. “Yes, Peter. I do magic and make potions.” She held out her hand with her palm facing up and from it came thousands of specs of golden light, filling the room and shimmering as they moved. The group watched in awe, many tried to reach out and touch them, sending them spinning in all different directions. “These are called ‘fabula aruspices’. Story tellers. I’ve imbued my magic into them so they can give you a clearer picture as I tell my story.” She waved her hand, directing the fabula aruspices over the table. They began to take shape as she spoke, following her wordless direction. 

“Many years ago, a dark wizard began to rise to power. His name was Voldemort.” The name sent a shiver through them, the fabula aruspices showing a snake-like man with no nose and eyes with slits, his skin pale and veiny. “He had many pure-blood followers, wizards who believed those with one or more non-magical parents, or muggles, did not deserve a place in the magical world. Then came the prophecy.” The picture changed into an orb, swirling clouds glowing as it began to speak.

“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 her as his equal, but she 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.”

Their widened eyes were fixed on Kahlen who stared straight ahead, glaring at the sphere. “My parents were a part of a resistance group called the Order of the Phoenix. They fought his followers, his Death Eaters, three times, and each time they emerged victorious.” Kahlen found herself looking at her parents, young and brave, their wands raised and faces set in pure determination. 

“Voldemort found the prophecy, decided it was about me, and forced my parents into hiding.” The cottage began to take shape. “We stayed in hiding for over a year before they found us.” This part of the story was too difficult for Kahlen to explain, so she let the fabula aruspices tell it for her. Wanda averted her eyes, unable to watch the horrible scene again.

The door burst open. The brunette man fell. The red headed woman screamed. The snake-man evaporated. And the baby cried, a lightning-shaped scar fresh on her forehead.

Tears fell from the heroes’ eyes. They may not have understood exactly what took place, or where Voldemort had gone, but they got the gist. The crying baby Kahlen was enough to make them feel her pain.

“My mother…” Kahlen explained, swallowing the lump in her throat. “My mother sacrificed herself for me, and in doing so left a magical protection over me. When Voldemort tried to end my life, this magic forced his killing curse back on himself, and the world believed him to be dead.” She raised her hand hesitantly to her forehead and removed the glamour over her scar, voluntarily revealing it to them for the first time.

Tony looked at Kahlen as though seeing her for the first time. This was not the tragic car crash that Kahlen had told them about. This… this was so much worse. His heart ached for his daughter, and he mourned the parents she never got a chance to know. In that moment, he vowed to spend the rest of his life trying to be there for Kahlen, to honour the people who hadn’t been able to raise her.

The fabula aruspices shifted, becoming the prim little house on Privet Drive. Wanda growled under her breath, immediately making the others wary of whatever happened in this building.

“I was sent to live with my aunt and uncle, and my cousin, Dudley. They were, for lack of a better term, arseholes. Until I was twelve, my bedroom was the cupboard under their stairs. I was essentially their servant; I made their meals, cleaned up after them. It was… horrible.” She could see the fire burning behind everyone’s eyes, the green tinge to Bruce’s neck, so she quickly moved on before any of them could go on a murderous rampage. “On my eleventh birthday we were visited by a half-giant named Hagrid. He informed me of my magical roots and took me away, introducing me to the wizarding world.” The image became a magnificent castle atop cliffs with choppy seas below, an inky lake to one side and a vast, ominous forest on the other.

“I began attending Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, where I met Ron and Hermione and the others.” Young Kahlen walked the halls of the castle with her friends, a genuine smile on her face for the first time. In the conference room, an older Kahlen had a matching smile, though there was sadness in it as well. “I learned about all sorts of magic, and I was happy. But I wasn’t safe.

“By the end of my first year I was attacked by a teacher who’d made a deal with a loose piece of Voldemort’s soul that attached itself to the back of his head.” The gruesome image made the group cringe, but Kahlen paid them no mind. “Thankfully my mother’s protection remained a part of me. The touch of my skin burned him, and he turned to ash, releasing Voldemort’s soul back into the world.

“In my second year, Hogwarts was plagued by the Heir of Slytherin, who turned out to be another piece of Voldemort’s soul trapped in a diary kept when he was young and attending Hogwarts as Tom Riddle, long before he became the dark lord. He used a creature called a Basilisk to do his bidding, a fifty-foot snake that roamed the castle through the pipes and petrified students. Many believed I was the Heir of Slytherin. They were afraid of me.” She closed her eyes briefly, remembering the loneliness she felt that year. Ron and Hermione never wavered, but the kind of social outcasting she’d experienced was difficult for a twelve-year-old to bear. “When Ginny was taken by the monster into the Chamber of Secrets, Ron and I went after her. I got separated from him, and with the help of Headmaster Dumbledore’s pet phoenix who blinded the basilisk to protect me from its power of petrification, I managed to slay the beast and destroy Tom Riddle, saving Ginny in the process.” The fabula aruspices played the whole fight; running through the sewers, tricking the blinded beast, standing on the great stone head and running the sword through the giant snake’s head. She made sure to avoid showing the basilisk fang piercing her arm, nearly killing her, though she did reveal the scar quietly. 

Despite the terrifying scenes she showed, Kahlen smiled. That was the day she and Ginny truly became friends. They’d become so much closer, especially when she started spending the summers with the Weasleys. That fight had been traumatizing, but she’d do it over and over again to save her friend.

“The next year I was given a break from Voldemort. Instead, I had an escaped murderer after me. Sirius Black.” Tony and Steve swung their heads to look at her in shock. They recognized the name. She’d screamed it in her sleep, begging him not to leave her. Surely it couldn’t be the same man? To their surprise, Kahlen nodded, confirming their suspicions. “Yes, that Sirius. He was my parents’ best friend, and my godfather. He was imprisoned after killing 12 muggles and his friend, Peter Pettigrew.” She spat the name, like it burned her. “This was after he betrayed my parents and allowed Voldemort to find them.” Again the superheroes were overcome with anger, but Kahlen was calm. “Only, that isn’t what happened.

“Remus Lupin, another one of my parents' closest friends, explained it to me the night Sirius attacked us. It was Pettigrew that betrayed my parents. He joined Voldemort, and framed Sirius to have him locked away, and spent the next twelve years as a pet rat to the Weasleys. Remus and Sirius tried to kill him but I convinced them to let him be punished by the government, only for him to escape,” she seethed. “I should’ve let them blast that little rat to bits.”

They’d never seen her with this kind of anger, the kind that simmered constantly in the back of your mind.

“My fourth year,” she continued, “was long and terrible. Hogwarts hosted an event called the Triwizard Tournament, where three wizards from three different magical schools competed for the Triwizard Cup. It was only for students seventeen and older, but sure enough, after the three champions were selected, the bloody cup spit out my name.” They watched the glowing specs show the highlights of the tournament. Kahlen battled a dragon, fought off grotesque mermaids to save her friends, and ran for her life in a deadly maze.

“The only good thing to come from that year was Cedric Diggory, the true Hogwarts champion. He was my competition, but he was… so much more than that.” Snapshots of the two of them flashed by. Sitting under a tree, solving the riddle in their golden eggs, kissing under the light of the moon. “He was sweet, and brave, and self-less. And though he made me happy in the hell that was that year, it didn’t last.” Again, she was overcome by grief and emotion, so she allowed the fabula aruspices to tell the story for her.

The cup. The graveyard. The curse on the ‘spare’. The stolen blood. The return of the Dark Lord. The clashing of magic, red and green. The escape. And, of course, the tears.

Similar tears dropped down her face now, watching it all happen again. She’d never really gotten over what happened to Cedric in that graveyard. His death wasn’t necessary; it was personal. For that alone, she’d promised herself that Voldemort would die, and his death would come at her hand.

Once she got a hold on her tears, she continued.

“Voldemort returned that day, for good. He was no longer a weak soul floating around, but a powerful Dark Lord once again. I tried to tell everyone, to warn them, but no one believed me. Dumbledore ignored me for the majority of that year, and the Ministry of Magic sent a horrible woman by the name of Dolores Umbridge to teach us defence, which she insisted we didn’t need, because Voldemort was dead.” Kahlen rubbed the spot on the back of her hand, then after a moment of hesitation, she removed the glamour over her most hated scar. “She’s the one who gave me this. In detention, which I received for ‘spreading lies and instilling fear’ in my classmates.” Kahlen scoffed and rolled her eyes. “But I didn’t scare them. Not totally. Instead, I taught them. My friends and I started a secret club to teach students the defensive and offensive spells we would need for the war that seemed imminent.”

“So, you created an illegal club to teach other people your age how to defend themselves because your government was in denial?” Sam questioned. “Does that about sum it up?”

Kahlen considered this. “Pretty much.”

Nat whistled. “Badass.” Kahlen felt her face burn at the praise.

Hermione had tried to tell her how brave and amazing she was, Ron backing her up the whole time, but she’d never believed them. To her, Dumbledore’s Army was a necessity, and if no one else was willing to take the responsibility of leading them then she would. It had seemed simple, but from then on people had seen her as a leader in her own right. She was no longer The Girl Who Lived. She was Kahlen Potter, a name people respected because of the things she’d done to save others. Still, she didn’t like people looking up to her, it made her feel like she couldn’t measure up to the version of her they believed her to be.

Kahlen cleared her throat. “That summer,” she continued, ignoring the respect she was receiving from literal superheroes, “I had a vision while I slept. It was Sirius, in the Ministry of Magic, being tortured by Death Eaters. I didn’t know it at the time, but Voldemort was using a connection between us that I was unaware of to plant things in my head, to make me believe things that were not true.”

“So… Sirius was safe?” Peter was merely searching for clarification, his innocent eyes wide with hope, but his question was like a knife to the gut. Sirius had been safe, hiding out at Grimmauld Place. And then she’d made a stupid mistake that he’d come to fix, and it had cost him his life. It was her fault. She blamed herself, and no amount of assurances from her friends would change that.

“Yes,” she confirmed, the sadness in her voice contradictory to her answer. “But, silly git I am, I believed Voldemort’s deception. My friends and I broke into the Ministry in an attempt to rescue him, and it turned out… badly.” The shimmering image began to show the Ministry Battle, curses thrown in all directions, injuries sustained on both sides. When the wide circular room appeared, the wide arch of the Veil standing tall in the centre of the fight, Kahlen’s breath caught in her throat. “We were outmatched, the Death Eaters had us beaten, and the Order came to our rescue, led by Sirius himself.” She smiled sadly, watching her godfather cast spell after spell, an ear-splitting grin on his face. “We were winning, and then… Bellatrix Lestrange showed up.”

The Avengers watched Kahlen’s expression turn from love to pure hatred. It was at that moment they knew they should hope to never see themselves on Kahlen’s bad side, for if that were the case they would know their days were numbered.

“She used Sirius’ distraction against him, forced him back until he fell through the Veil.” The tears sprang to her eyes, watching the closest thing she’d had to a father disappear once again. “We didn’t even get to bury him,” she whispered, a single tear trailing her cheek. “I-I was so… so angry. At Bellatrix, at Voldemort, at the world. I just wanted to cause pain, so I went after Bellatrix as she tried to flee.” She was shaking now, the memory of Voldemort’s fury coursing through her surfacing. “My connection to Voldemort made me especially susceptible to anger. I saw the woman who’d killed Sirius, and I used an Unforgivable Curse on her. It wasn’t even hard.” 

She turned her eyes to the ground, taking deep breaths to push down the rage and shame she felt.

“Thankfully, Dumbledore got there in time. He stopped me, helped me return to myself, to see what Voldemort was doing to my mind. He fought him off, and the Minister saw. He was forced to admit Voldemort’s return. Things should've gotten easier then, but they just got worse.

“By the end of my sixth year, Professor Snape had murdered Dumbledore and revealed himself to be a double agent.” Her friends took in the news in varying degrees, but their shock was evident. 

“Before his death, Dumbledore had revealed how Voldemort continued to return. He used Horcruxes, items used to store pieces of a wizard’s soul. It could only occur at the use of the Killing Curse, when the soul is split. Somehow, Voldemort had managed to create seven known Horcruxes. Two were destroyed; the diary from my second year and a ring that Dumbledore destroyed, poisoning himself in the process. Ron, Hermione and I decided to skip our seventh year and hunt down the rest of the Horcruxes so that Voldemort could be killed, once and for all. 

“We were on the run. Anyone who recognized us would have turned us in or killed us on sight. That’s when I got this scar,” she explained, removing the glamour from her shoulder. “We apparated, sort of like teleporting, and it went wrong. Some of me didn’t reappear with the rest of my body, but Hermione healed me. This scar is all that remains from such a deep injury.” The explanation set most of their minds at ease, though the injury behind it sounded deadly. They were amazed that Kahlen could talk about it so casually.

“At one point during our little quest, we were captured and brought to Malfoy Manor.” This caused several confused faces.

“I thought you said you were friends with Malfoy,” Bruce said.

“With Draco Malfoy. Lucius Malfoy, Draco’s father, was Voldemort’s right-hand man. We were brought to him to be identified by Draco, who’d been pressured by his father to join Voldemort. He lied, tried to protect us, but Bellatrix was there and she called him on his bluff. We managed to escape with the help of a friend; a house-elf named Dobby. He’d been a slave to the Malfoy’s before I set him free, and he felt he owed me a debt. He came to save us, but Bellatrix got him, too.” Kahlen didn’t want to show the weak little elf in his final moments, so instead she manipulated the fabula aruspices to show Dobby when he was happy: being freed, standing up to Lucius, proudly announcing himself to be a free elf. And then the little grave she’d dug for her friend, just over the hill from the beach where he’d died.

She forced herself to continue, trying not to notice the pitying looks of her friends around the table. “It took months, but we found two more Horcruxes before the war came to a head at the Battle of Hogwarts.”

Once again, the fabula aruspices shifted, showing snippets of the final fight. The monsters fighting for both sides, the bodies dropping left and right.

“It was… a bloodbath,” she breathed out. “We lost a lot of good witches and wizards. And Fred…” she took a shuddering breath, allowing the image to become the family of red-heads grieving over a young man, identical to the one they’d met who appeared sobbing over the body. “George’s twin brother, Fred, was killed. He was a good man, he deserved better.” Then, quietly, she added, “They all did.”

The piles of dead bodies, the loved ones broken by the loss of their family and friends, it was all her fault. She would carry the weight of their deaths for the rest of her life, living each day in hopes that their lives would not have been lost for nothing.

“While the others fought, I located another Horcrux while Ron and Hermione destroyed the remaining one we’d found on our hunt, leaving only one, Voldemort’s prized snake, and Voldemort himself. Neville killed the snake, and finally I was able to destroy the last of Voldemort’s soul.” Wanda narrowed her eyes, noticing Kahlen’s omission of her sacrifice and sort-of dying, as well as her return from death to defeat the Dark Lord. Kahlen caught her eyes briefly, silently begging her to keep that part of the story to herself. She’d learned from Steve’s mistake, so Wanda simply gave a nearly imperceptible nod, receiving a slight sigh of relief in return.

“The war was long and brutal, and so many were killed, but Voldemort is gone.” With her story finished, the room was plunged into silence. Kahlen busied herself with waving the fabula aruspices out of the air, unable to meet anyone’s gaze, nervous to see their reactions. Would they cast her out? Blame her for all the death that occurred in her name? Accuse her of lying? She didn’t know, but she was afraid to find out.

She was forced out of her internal anxiety by the sound of Tony’s chair scraping against the floor as he stood, excruciatingly slowly, his expression inscrutable. Before she could work herself into a panic, Tony made his way around the table to his daughter and enveloped her in a hug, the first of many if he had anything to do with it.

“So… I can stay?” Kahlen asked nervously.

Tony chuckled, pulling back to look her in her eyes, those same eyes that he’d recognized when she first came to the tower. “Of course you can stay. I am honoured to call you my daughter, Kahlen Potter.”

This time it was Kahlen pulling him closer. She held onto her father and relaxed into his hold, finally allowing the tears she’d been holding back all her life to fall.

Chapter Text

After several minutes of crying, laughing, and hugging the members of her father’s chosen family, Kahlen finally sat at the head of the table and wiped away the remaining tears from her face, smiling as she did so.

“Ok,” she giggled, “I know that was a lot to take in. If you have any questions I’d be happy to answer them now.”

Nat wasted no time in taking her up on her offer.

“Why did you really need Tony’s signature?” She asked. “You said it was for you to be adopted by your godfather, Remus, but evidently he is not your godfather, nor do you need a guardian. So, spill.”

“Remus is a werewolf,” Kahlen explained. She had expected this question, but she still felt bad for betraying her friend’s trust. The blank stares she received from the group was almost worth it though. “It’s true,” she laughed. “He was bitten as a child and has suffered ever since. The wizarding world has a lot of backwards laws, many of which refuse werewolves basic rights. Remus isn’t allowed to marry his mate, and I’m tired of seeing him and others like him oppressed for an illness they can’t control.”

“That’s great, Kahlen,” Sam said cautiously, “but how do adoption papers change any of that?”

Kahlen shook her head. “They weren’t adoption papers. We have this cabinet of government officials from old, powerful pureblood families. It’s called the Wizengamot. The Potters and the Blacks happen to be two of the most influential families in our world, and as the heir to both I am entitled to take up those seats, where I can make real change. But until I reach the age of 25, I need parental permission to be on the Wizengamot.”

“How are you the heir to the Potter and Black houses? You’re not related to either of them, are you?” Peter questioned, always asking the questions no one else knew needed answering.

“Not by blood, no,” Kahlen responded, smiling at the boy. “But the wizarding world recognizes bonds over blood. I have a familial bond to James Potter through his adoption of me as a baby, and one to Sirius Black through our legal and emotional connections, which allowed him to leave his house to me in his will.”

Clint raised his hand. Kahlen stared at him. Clint slowly lowered his hand.

“How rich are you?” He blurted out, only to be smacked upside the head by Nat, followed by an indignant, “Ow!”

“Nat, it’s fine,” Kahlen laughed. “The assets from the Potter and Black families have all been left to me. Wizarding money is different, more valuable than muggle money, but I’d guess I have… around $3 billion US, give or take a few estates and properties.” Everyone’s jaws dropped, leaving Kahlen with a smug smirk. It was less than a quarter of Tony’s fortune, but still an incredible sum, especially for someone so young. After digesting the number for a few minutes, Steve spoke, for the first time since Kahlen had returned.

“Can you… elaborate on house-elves?” He asked slowly, a self-righteous frown on his face. “Are they all enslaved?”

“House-elves live to serve their masters, but they can be freed. I freed Dobby from the Malfoy’s, and he remained loyal to me, as my friend. Unfortunately, many house elves belonging to pureblood families are mistreated and abused. That’s another thing I would hope to correct once I’m on the Wizengamot.” The whole time she spoke, Kahlen forced herself to look directly at Steve. She refused to let herself feel ashamed of how he’d revealed her secret, but she wasn’t angry at him anymore, either. Of course, she believed she deserved a heart-felt apology, but she could wait until they had a minute alone.

“So your relatives never had a house elf?” He continued questioning her, and she could see what he was doing. She narrowed her eyes, but answered honestly.

“No, they have. The Blacks had many, though the only one passed to me after Sirius’s passing was Kreacher. He’s a grouchy old thing, I let him go as soon as I could. He was grateful, the Blacks were cruel to him, so he offered me a life debt should I ever need his help.” 

“What about the Potters?” He just wouldn’t give up, would he?

“My parents, grandparents and great grandparents were all served by one house elf. I tried to set her free when I realised she belonged to me upon my parents’ passing but she won’t let me.” As she expected, Steve’s eyebrows shot up his forehead, his disgust written clearly on his face.

“You own a house-elf?” He said, using his Captain America voice. “That isn’t right. All beings deserve to have free will!” Kahlen wouldn’t rise to the bait, calmly staring the man down until he relaxed a little.

“I agree. Would you like to tell her that yourself?” Steve’s expression became one of confusion. “Ditty!” Kahlen called out, causing several of the Avengers to look at one another, questioning her sanity, probably. They didn’t have long to question, however, because before long Ditty appeared in the middle of the table with a resounding POP, startling most of the heroes at the table.

“Yes, Mistress? You has need of Ditty so soon after visiting your friends?” Ditty asked knowingly, a pleased grin on her face.

Kahlen rolled her eyes. “Yes, yes, Ditty, you were right. Big surprise.” She smiled at the little elf. “Everyone, this is Ditty. Ditty, everyone.” They all waved awkwardly, unsure what to think. Ditty bowed to them, making them squirm in their seats and eliciting a laugh from Kahlen. “Ditty, quit toying with them.”

Ditty grinned, and the Avengers relaxed into their seats.

“What does Mistress need from Ditty?” She asked innocently.

“Well, Ditty, Steve here seems to believe you would be better off if I set you free. Would you care to weigh in on that?” Kahlen could see the moment Ditty’s vision turned red, her mouth settling into a determined line. She raised an eyebrow at Kahlen, who understood the silent question and pointed Steve out among the group, laughing silently as his eyes widened to find a two-and-a-half foot tall creature staring him down, two inches from his face.

“How dare you tell Mistress to set Ditty free! Ditty is a good house-elf, does her job properly, yes she does. Mistress needs Ditty, Ditty would never let her Mistress fend for herself! If Ditty hears you tellin’ her Mistress to set Ditty free, Ditty will hunt you down and decorate the walls of Potter Manor with your worthless hide. Is you understanding Ditty?” Throat dry and eyes wide from shock, a frantic nod was all Steve could manage. Ditty gave one decisive nod at him. “Good.”

The others all watched the scene with similar expressions of shock at how much authority this “enslaved” creature could command over Captain America. Kahlen just laughed, trying to cover it with coughs and a raised hand but doing a poor job.

Ditty walked away from the blond man, looking extremely proud of herself. “Ditty will fetch Mistress and her friends some tea.” And before Kahlen could protest she vanished. Once Ditty was out of the room, Kahlen was doubled over, laughter wracking her body as she gasped for breath. Moving past their shock, the others joined in, cackling at their friend’s misery.

Steve blushed, and Kahlen felt a little sympathy for the man. “Don’t be embarrassed,” she said to him, “she was the same way when I first met her and tried to set her free. Let’s just say that Ditty is a force of nature. She is not to be trifled with,” Kahlen chuckled, and Steve sent her a grateful smile that she returned.

“I have a question,” Wanda voiced. “How does your magic work?” She knew that her magic was not the same, that they were very different types of witches, but she wondered if understanding Kahlen’s magic might help her control her own powers.

“In many ways. Most people use wands and spells, as that has the most powerful result. Some people train in wandless magic, others in non verbal magic. Regardless, a person has to be born with magic and has to train in it to be any good. That’s why we have wizarding schools.” She tried to be vague about her own abilities, and thankfully it seemed to work.

“How many wizarding schools are there?” Bruce asked. He knew there were at least three, as they had a Triwizard tournament, but he doubted wizards were only in Europe.

Kahlen furrowed her brows. “I’m not sure, really. But they’re all over the world. Europe, the Americas, Asia, Africa, Australia. I think there may even be one in antarctica.” She shrugged. She’d never thought about it too much, most magic users originated in Western Europe, the rest had mostly emigrated over the last few centuries.

“I have another one,” Clint stated. “The Doctor Doom attack. We all came out of that fight remarkably unscathed. Was that you?”

Kahlen’s cheeks turned crimson. “Yeah?” She said it as a question, embarrassed at having been noticed. She decided to play it off. “I didn’t do much. Just a few protection spells and the occasional bombarda.” 

“Bombarda?”

She could’ve explained it, but what was the fun in that?

On the other end of the room a pitcher of water exploded, glass shattering as the superheroes all went into fighting mode, searching for a threat before realizing what had happened.

“Thank you,” Tony said sincerely, “for saving my life. With the Doombot,” he clarified. Kahlen blushed further, waving off his praise.

“It was nothing,” she insisted.

“I do have one question though,” Tony said slowly. He hesitated, then sucked in a breath for courage. “Why didn’t you tell us the truth sooner?”

He didn’t judge her for keeping secrets. Knowing the truth now, he understood why she’d felt the need to hide her past from them. Still, he needed to hear it from her.

“Would you have believed me?” She asked shyly. “Besides, I’ve had a lot of adults let me down. I guess I thought if I didn’t let you get close to me, you couldn’t abandon me and I couldn’t get you killed. But I want to try now. For real. If you’re willing to give me another chance, I want to get to know you as the real me.” She used what little bravery she had left and looked at her father, awaiting his response and prepared to accept whatever answer he gave her.

“I’d really like that, Kahlen,” he said, his smile wide and bright. They each searched the other for any hint of unease, but both were on the same page. This time it would be different. This time, they were both in it for the long run.

“Oh god,” Clint groaned. “How are we going to survive a magical Stark?”

— — —

That night the team ate dinner together as usual, and Kahlen enjoyed every minute with them. She’d missed this little family while she was away, missed Sam and Clint’s bickering, Wanda’s gentle accent, Peter’s bubbly excitement. But being back felt different, too. The first time felt like being on an alien planet, but this time… this time she had come home.

She couldn’t help but feel a little stung by the way Steve avoided her eyes the whole night. She wondered if maybe he was scared of her now, or maybe he blamed her for all the deaths she’d caused. She wouldn’t blame him, but it just didn’t seem like Steve. None of it made sense, but she’d decided that if he didn’t want to talk to her then she wouldn’t bother with him.

Apparently he did want to talk to her, though. As she finished cleaning the dishes in the sink —insisting that she make up for her turn she’d missed while away— she heard him enter the room on light feet, leaning against the wall. She didn’t turn to face him, but she could feel his eyes watching her.

“Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she suggested, tone dripping with sarcasm. She turned to see Steve blushing, his eyes dropping to the ground. His hair was wet from a shower, and Kahlen had to force her face into a casual smile.

“Sorry,” Steve said, though his expression told her otherwise. “Can… Can we talk?”

“Sure. What about?” Kahlen said dryly. Steve winced.

“Look, I just… I wanted to apologize for how I reacted last week.” He sighed, running his fingers through his damp hair, completely oblivious to the way Kahlen bit her lip at the movement. “I shouldn’t have done that, it wasn’t right. You deserve your privacy, I never should have forced you to show everyone your scars.”

“Steve, it’s okay—”

“No, it’s not okay. I’ve thought of nothing else for the past seven days, and I need you to know that I should’ve trusted you. That I do trust you. You deserve so much better than you’ve been treated, and I will make it up to you. I promise.” Steve met her eyes, his gaze intense. Then he turned and walked out of the room, leaving Kahlen standing there alone, breathing heavily and an odd fluttering in her stomach.

Chapter Text

The next couple of days in the tower passed as though nothing had changed. The team ate meals together, watched movies in the common room, and Kahlen spent time with Tony in his lab, with Peter, too, now that school was out. The three of them meshed well together, Peter talking non-stop, Tony with his occasional one-liner, and Kahlen just enjoying each moment of peace, reading her books that she left visible to the others. The only difference in her life with the Avengers was that now she would get the odd question about magic or the wizarding world, never anything to make her feel different. She knew they just hoped to understand her better and they were fascinated by her power, so she answered every question with a smile. No one loved to question her more than Peter.

“How do the wands work?” He asked, his head bent over a circuit board Tony had him working on, brows furrowed in concentration. “I mean, are they magical, too? Or are they just conduits that take magic from inside you and make it more precise? I feel like it’s the latter, but then does it also make the spells more powerful? And if so, why would anyone want to learn wandless magic, if magic cast with a wand is so much more effective? And that just raises the question of wordless magic: does the magic come from the incantation or from the person? There’s so many variables, how do—”

Kahlen cut off his questioning with a chuckle. “Petey, if you want an answer you’re going to have to breathe and let me answer.”

“Right,” he muttered, a tinge of red settling over his face. “Sorry.”

“It’s fine. I’m afraid I don't know exactly how the wands work. I know they have their own power based on a unique combination of wood, length and core material, but the wand chooses the wizard, so I suppose the more powerful wands choose the witches or wizards with more potential power.” The conversation reminded her of one she’d had with Ollivander months prior, when she was trying to defeat Voldemort. It had been really interesting to learn about, and she’d hoped to research it a bit more after the war but it had slipped her mind.

“As for wandless magic,” she continued, “it’s a valuable skill to learn, especially during times of unrest. One never knows when they might need to make something happen without carrying a stick. The same goes for wordless magic as well: it comes in handy when surrounded by muggles, not needing to utter a word. However, both are difficult skills to learn, much less to master.” She turned her attention back to the book in her lap, only to be interrupted once more. And really, she’d be mad, but how could anyone be upset with someone as happy as Peter Parker?

“What about in the conference room?” he asked, his head tilted to the side like a confused puppy.

“What?”

“With the glass of water? You just—” he imitated an intense stare at nothing, “and then it just—” and his hands made the shape of a mushroom cloud, with Peter making sound effects. “It was awesome! And you didn’t speak, and I didn’t see a wand,” he pointed out.

“Oh, that,” Kahlen sighed. “I picked up a few things during the war,” she supplied vaguely, though Peter kept his full attention on her, waiting for more details. “It took a lot of practice, but yes, I can do both wandless and wordless magic, to an extent.” The confession felt like bragging, and she didn’t like it. She’d never liked appearing better than her peers, because she knew she wasn’t. She was just a girl who’d been forced into a war from the moment she’d been born.

“Awesome,” Peter sighed.

“Petey,” Kahlen deadpanned. “You can climb on walls and stick to the ceiling, not to mention swinging around skyscrapers using a compound of your own invention.”

“Well, yeah,” he agreed, as though that were normal activities for a 15-year-old. Kahlen rolled her eyes, a smile directed at the clueless boy. 

After a few minutes of nonsense passed between the billionaire and his protege regarding the little experiment, Clint walked into the room as though he owned the place— which Tony had reminded him countless times, he did not.

“What’s up Stark,” he nodded to Tony who just glared at his invasion. Clint ignored him, nodding to Peter next. “Mini Stark.” Peter grinned. Rounding on Kahlen, who’d been hiding behind her book in hopes he wouldn’t see her, Clint grinned conspiratorially. “Stark 2.0.”

Tony’s jaw dropped. Kahlen returned the archer’s grin.

“That's… actually not bad,” she conceded. “How long did it take you to come up with that?”

“Two days,” Clint stated proudly. “The next best option was ‘nicer Stark’, but then I thought about it, and—” Kahlen threw her book at his head. “Ow! Way to prove my point,” he grumbled, rubbing his forehead.

“I am very nice, you prat,” she scowled.

“Clearly,” Clint drawled, unconvinced.

“What are you doing here, Barton?” Tony finally asked.

Clint’s eyes widened at him. “It’s team-bonding training time. Cap sent me to —and I’m quoting— ‘get those lab junkies out of their hole and bring their asses to the sparring ring’.”

Tony rolled his eyes. “Tell Spangles we’re busy.” Peter pouted.

“No can do,” Clint said seriously. “Cap says if you’re not there in five minutes he’s picking a silent film for our next movie night.” Groans all around.

“Fine, fine, we’ll be there in a minute.” Peter bounced up and down, excited to train with his heroes despite how many times he’d done so in the past.

“What about you?” Clint turned to Kahlen, who had been mildly enjoying the little interaction.

“What about me?”

“Are you coming,” he said slowly, as though he wasn’t sure why she wasn’t understanding.

Kahlen snorted. “Pretty sure I’m not considered a ‘lab junky’. Besides, I’m not an Avenger.”

“Neither is Peter—”

“Hey!” Peter scowled, his teenage pride insulted. Clint ignored him.

“But he can keep up with us, so he gets to join,” Clint explained. “Unless, of course, you don’t think you could keep up with us?” He asked innocently, barely concealing a smirk.

Kahlen frowned at him. “You’re trying to manipulate me,” she stated it as a fact, but Clint answered regardless.

“Yep,” he replied, popping the ‘p’. “Is it working?”

“No,” she said, though she stood up and started walking to the elevator. “But the fact that I can beat you into the ground with no consequences? That makes this an easy decision.” She grinned dangerously at the man over twice her age, and he had the good sense to look terrified.

— — —

It was only upon entering the room that Kahlen realized she’d never been in the Avenger’s gym. It was huge, as all things were in the tower. Half of the room was taken up by an elaborate sparring ring, the rest of the space housing different machines and racks of weapons. At the other end of the room was a door labelled: ‘SPA’.

She’d changed quickly before meeting the others in the gym. A little out of her element, she’d decided on biker shorts and a red tank top. Thankfully the others were dressed similarly, most of them in shorts and tank tops.

Kahlen spotted Nat stretching in a corner alone and decided that would be a safe place to warm herself up, still unsure of what a ‘team-building training’ would consist of. Settling onto the floor to stretch, Kahlen smiled at Nat, receiving a warm one from the assassin in return. After several minutes of silent companionship, Nat spoke quietly.

“How do you cover your scars?” She asked it so nonchalantly, as though asking for the time. It shocked Kahlen for only a moment before she remembered who she was dealing with.

“A spell,” she replied dumbly. Nat raised an eyebrow, silently requesting her to elaborate. “A glamouring spell,” she added. “I hide the three big ones —hand, shoulder and, of course, forehead— every morning, so only those who really look notice anything amiss.”

“Why do you hide them?” Nat’s eyes bored into her soul, giving the impression that she could see Kahlen’s every thought. It made Kahlen flush, feeling ashamed for reasons she wasn’t quite sure.

“Well, the lightning-bolt scar makes it easy for wizards to identify me, so I prefer to hide it when I’m in public to avoid attention. It doesn’t completely hide it though, if someone with magical blood cares enough to look then they’ll see it,” she explained. The conversation made her feel self-conscious, her hand rubbing the scar on her forehead subconsciously as she spoke. “The other two are just so big and distracting. I just… I don’t really like to see them,” she admitted. “I don’t like thinking about how I got them.” Her eyes were glued to the ground.

“I understand,” Nat said gently. Kahlen’s eyes snapped up to meet the former assassin’s, her surprise evident. Nat only smirked at her response. “I have scars, too, and I’m not proud of how I got most of them. It’s taken some time, but I’ve learned to let it go. I had to. If you spend all your time thinking about the past, you’ll never really be able to enjoy the present.”

The words reminded her of something similar she’d been told years ago.

It does not do to dwell on dreams and forget to live.

Dreams, Kahlen scoffed. More like nightmares.

Still, she couldn’t deny the truth behind what she’d been told, both by Dumbledore and by Nat. She was so tired of letting the war control her, even after Voldemort was dead and buried. It was like each scar tied her to a particularly awful memory, haunting her with the pain of her past.

As if she could read her mind, Nat spoke once again.

“I know you’ve been through a lot in your life, and I’m sure the story you told us was at least a little filtered,” she shot Kahlen a knowing look, causing the girl to blush and confirm her suspicions, “so your trauma would be larger than most. But you’re around family now. Whenever you’re ready to let that stuff go, we’ll be here for you. Because from what I’ve heard, those scars are not something to be embarrassed about. They’re something to be proud of.” At some point she had taken Kahlen’s hand in her own, which the girl found herself grateful for when she felt the tears prick her eyes.

Her magical friends may have fought with her when she received these scars, but her family would help her heal.

The two of them sat in a companionable silence, hand in hand, before they were interrupted by Cap calling everyone over to the sparring ring. When everyone had gathered just outside the ring, some with equipment like Peter with his web-shooters or Tony with his gauntlets, others with nothing to bring to the fight but their body and an excited grin. 

“Alright,” Steve said, authority colouring his tone. “First match: Nat and Clint.” The group grinned at the pairing, none more than the two spies who stepped into the ring.

Kahlen watched the two of them fight in what seemed like a choreographed dance. Having been aware of each other's fighting styles, the two seemed to sense each attack before it came and knew just how to avoid the hit. Eventually, after a few landed hits on either side Nat was able to strike Clint’s leg, forcing him to one knee before incapacitating him, holding him in an uncomfortable position until the sharpshooter had to tap out.

“Well done,” Steve congratulated them, patting Clint on the back as he left the ring. “You lasted longer than last time, Clint.” The man in question scowled at the laughter that came from the group. “Next up: Tony and Peter.” The two grinned at each other and stepped into the ring.

The afternoon continued that way, with two teammates entering the ring and fighting until a victor emerged. Kahlen watched the fights with interest, trying to analyze the fighting styles that everyone else knew like the backs of their own hands. When most of the group had had a turn, she stepped into the ring to find herself facing Steve, shield in hand.

“You ready for this?” He asked, but Kahlen only snorted at his concern.

“Come on, old man. Just throw your glorified frisbee.” She grinned at him, noticing the mischievous glint sparkling in his eyes. She felt her magic come to attention, ready to be used at the slightest provocation. She’d opted to not use a wand, not wanting to actually cause any harm to anyone. Besides, if she really needed it to be her wandless magic could be just as strong as magic cast with a wand, albeit less controlled.

Steve took a slow step to his left which Kahlen mirrored, spurring them into a calculated circling of each other. Raising her arms in a defensive stance, Kahlen tried to find an opening, eventually settling for a quick jab to Steve’s shoulder that he blocked easily.

“You can do better than that,” he commented, head tilted in mock disappointment. “Show me what you’ve got, little witch.” The endearment did not have Steve’s desired effect, instead causing her to feel fluttering in her stomach and her breath to catch. Or maybe that was his desired effect; but was it a distraction or something more? His grin suggested a simple method of diversion, but his eyes were focussed entirely on her, his intensity stirring her abdomen like molten lava.

Focus Kahlen.

She took a deep breath to clear away her distracted thoughts, barely in time to catch his right hook. Only just stepping out of his reach with a millisecond to spare, Kahlen didn’t have enough time to readjust before Steve crouched down to swipe her legs. She landed hard on her back, the wind knocked from her lungs, and he took the opportunity to pin her to the ground, kneeling over her and holding her wrists to the floor above her head. His face was inches away from hers, a bright smile over his victory splitting his face.

Oh look at that, she thought to herself, her eyes locked on his and gasping for breath, my stomach is on fire and my lungs have shrunken.

“I win!” Steve grinned, totally oblivious to her loss of control over her body. He leaned closer to her ear, speaking softly so that only she could hear him. “So I guess that means you lost, little witch.” She shivered, his breath hot against her cheek. It was a moment she would relive later, she was sure. She almost hated to ruin it. Pushing her body’s betrayal to the back of her mind, Kahlen simply gave Steve a confused look. 

“Are you sure?” She asked, voice dripping with innocence. Immediately the smile on Steve’s face disappeared, worry overtaking his mind. Before he could give himself an aneurysm worrying over what she meant, Kahlen grinned. Casting a non-verbal levicorpus, she threw Steve off of her, hardly moving a muscle. While she held him suspended ten feet off the ground, Kahlen took her time standing, making a show of dusting herself off and being completely relaxed while Captain America struggled, held up by nothing and with no way to get down.

When there was not a speck of dust on her, Kahlen turned to face her opponent, who looked an odd mixture of shock, nerves and pride. Using more magic to pull him closer and keeping him still with a gentle petrificus totalus, she watched in amusement as he ended up floating on air, inches away once again, and completely unable to fight back. The only movement he could manage was a slight struggle. 

Leaning close as he’d done with her, Kahlen practically purred the words Steve had perfectly set up for her.

“Who’s losing now?” Her voice was low, and calm despite the glee that was clear as day from her expression. Now it was Steve’s turn to squirm a little, and sweet Merlin, did she enjoy it. They stayed like that for a solid ten seconds before she decided to take her triumph to the next level.

She gently lowered him to the ground, releasing the body binding spell and allowing the man to stand for himself. With a sportsmanlike smile on her face, Kahlen extended a hand to him, which he took with a little suspicion.

For good reason, too.

One minute he was standing, head held high despite his defeat, and all of a sudden Kahlen’s leg was behind his, forcing him out of balance and allowing her to flip him and pin him to the mat. Letting herself bask in her win for a moment, Kahlen turned to face the group of shocked spectators, jaws practically on the floor, with a shit-eating grin.

“Who’s next?”

Chapter Text

Two hours later Kahlen stood alone in the ring, having faced every member of the team one on one. She’d won every single match, some with relative ease while others gave her a run for her money. She was certain that none of them went easy on her, either, though it was possible that the variety of her magic gave her the element of surprise.

Tony stood at one end of the ring grumbling to Rhodey, something about “betrayed by my own daughter! ”

Steve, Sam, Nat and Clint were a few paces away talking in low voices, which made Kahlen slightly nervous, though Peter happily swinging from wall to wall distracted her. As he moved Wanda sent pieces of equipment flying towards him, exercising his spidey-sense.

“Alright Miss Potter,” Sam said, walking toward the ring with the others behind him, his arms crossed and exuding confidence. “Clearly, you can hold your own in a fight, and against an Avenger no less.”

“It was nothing,” Kahlen replied, though she knew he wasn’t finished.

“If it was too easy for you, let’s see how you do against all of us.” Peter and Wanda landed behind a now grinning Sam, the whole team ready to go.

Maybe it was foolish to accept. They had been fighting and training together for years, and knew each other's fighting styles. They could communicate almost wordlessly. All that aside, it was also 1 vs. 8, nearly impossible odds.

So, of course, her immediate response was, “Sure. I could use a workout, I haven’t even broken a sweat.” She watched their jaws tighten.

Clever. Very clever Kahlen, make them even more motivated to pulverize you.

Oh well, the damage was done.

“Fri, be a dear and lower the ring.” The floor beneath her feet immediately sank, the ropes going with it and leaving a wide floorspace. Tony smirked. “We’re going to need a bit more space.”

Kahlen shrugged. “Fine by me. It seems only polite to allow you space to run.” Yeah, they were going to kill her. 

She began readying her magic, the amused smile never leaving her face despite the anticipation she felt. It was only as Nat, Steve and Clint came at her from three different angles that she realized they’d been strategizing earlier.

The first three attackers approached before she could fully work out her strategy, going for a series of punches, jabs and kicks that had to be rehearsed. It took most of her concentration to block them but whatever remaining focus she had was locked on the seamless way the team fought together.

After one or two jabs had landed, and one kick to the ribs left her with less air than she’d had before (thanks a lot Nat), Kahlen gave up on hand to hand and threw them halfway across the room with a controlled Wingardium Leviosa. It wasn’t enough to really injure them, just to keep them out of the fight as the next round approached.

Tony, Rhodey and Sam came at her from the air, faces set in determination. Honestly, that was a poor choice on their part. All it took was a little Petrificus Totalis and they were out of commission, suits malfunctioning and keeping them grounded and frozen in shock.

Too encompassed by her pride at taking them down so easily, Kahlen forgot about the two youngest and most powerful Avengers. Peter, being the sweet boy he is, helped her to remember by swiping her legs out from under her as he swung by.

"Sorry, Kahlen!" He laughed, still on the move as she started to stand only to find Wanda holding her down, swirls of red mist weighing down on her back.

“It’s nothing personal,” Peter continued, looping back to the two young women. “But the old guys—”

“Watch it Underoos!” With her focus elsewhere, Kahlen’s previous spells had become weak, and Tony had just started getting up with the others not far behind.

“Sorry Mr. Stark!” Peter shot strands of sticky white webs at Kahlen while she remained weighed down. “As I was saying, the super young and super handsome guys—”

“Thanks, kid,” Clint said.

“—and Clint—”

“Hey!”

“—keep insisting I’m too young to be an Avenger, but clearly their judgement is clouded, since Wanda and I were the only ones to beat you,” he said smugly.

Kahlen was now fully trapped in the webbing, Wanda and Peter stepping back to admire their handiwork as the rest of the team started to gather. She let them revel in their victory for a moment, even going as far as to squirm a little just to see Peter smile proudly. Then she cut herself free with a wordless charm, on her feet just in time for all eight Avengers to come at her.

“Unfair you guys,” Kahlen huffed between spells, finding this more challenging than she’d expected. She was sure she could win pretty easily except that would require her to use more damaging spells, and she didn’t want to actually hurt anyone. Finally, in hopes of ending the match with as little damage as possible, Kahlen focused on her happiest memories.

Her, Ron and Hermione reunited at the end of her second year.

Being in Cedric’s arms under a willow tree.

Holding Teddy in her arms for the first time, vowing to protect him with her life.

Standing on the roof of Avengers Tower, stars over her head and Steve’s lips on hers.

Tony holding her tight to him, accepting her as she was.

Without a wand to direct it, the memories collected in her chest, bursting out as a huge snowy owl made of the brightest white she’d ever seen. The majestic creature caught everyone’s attention, even its maker.

It was at least six feet across, its power radiating and pulling all focus as it flew around the room, wings moving slowly, like a stingray in water.

Using the distraction to catch her breath, Kahlen saw everyone watching in awe of the wispy figment. Seizing her opportunity, she stunned the lot of them, allowing the beautiful creature to dissipate.

— — —

“All I’m saying is that it was cheating,” Tony defended. The group was winding down from their training session, gathering water bottles and towels.

“Oh, please,” Nat scoffed. “She won fair and square, you’re just a sore loser.”

“In what world does ‘fair and square’ mean distracting your opponents with a dinosaur sized owl! ”

Sam shot the billionaire an incredulous look.

“The same world where your daughter is a witch.”

Tony paused.

“Fair point, but I still don’t think it was legal.” He pouted, then frowned to find Clint’s arm around his shoulders.

“Face it Money Man,” Clint sighed, “your daughter is a badass.”

Tony watched Kahlen laughing with Wanda and Peter, the three of them trying to stretch Peter’s webs as far as they could go.

“Yeah,” he stated with a smile. “She is.”

— — —

Kahlen got into the elevator, ready to hop in the shower and go to bed. After the exercise she’d just had, both physically and magically, she was about ready to pass out.

Just as the doors started to close she heard Tony calling, “Kahlen! Hey, wait up!” Just in time she managed to stick a foot between the closing doors, forcing them back open to let Tony in.

“Thanks,” he huffed. “Didn’t feel like waiting.”

“You know there are stairs, right?” She laughed at his insulted look.

“I designed this building, of course I know there are stairs!”

She continued to stare at him, questioning until he sighed.

“My knee hurts,” he grumbled.

“I’m sorry, what was that?” She asked innocently, enjoying the scowl he sent her way.

“My. Knee. Hurts.” He bit out. “Because someone, who shall remain nameless, electrocuted it after she cheated!” 

“Ok first, it was a stunning charm, I didn’t electrocute you,” she laughed, noticing Tony’s smile as he rolled his eyes. “And second, I didn’t cheat. There were no rules, therefore no way to cheat.”

“Weak excuse,” He continued as they walked off the elevator and into their living room. He sat on the couch and shrugged, and now it was Kahlen’s turn to roll her eyes. “Besides, I think a massive glowing owl constitutes cheating, and also a safety hazard I bet.”

“Oh relax, it wasn’t an actual owl.” She found herself sitting with him, shower and sleep momentarily forgotten.

“What was it then? Because it blew us all back a few feet, so it wasn’t an illusion.”

“No,” Kahlen agreed. “It was a Patronus. The physical embodiment of my happiness.”

“It was… bright,” Tony said cautiously.

“Yeah,” Kahlen laughed, “It’s never been that bright, or that big really.” She watched him take on a look of pride before realizing she’d basically just said she’d never been happier.

And surprisingly, it was true. She hadn’t realized how much she enjoyed being in the tower with these people. She missed her friends, sure, but ever since the war ended she’d been feeling stuck, like their lives were moving on while she remained in the past. She knew her friends were there for her, but none of them truly understood what it meant to be singled out, to be harassed and abused and attacked all your life by people who were angry for things you hadn’t done, for things you couldn’t change.

But the Avengers understood. They’d felt the same way. Everyone’s stories were different but somehow they just… knew. They knew what she was going through, and they accepted her anyway. 

For the first time in her life, she was really, truly happy.

“So…” Tony said, interrupting her thoughts. “Why the owl?”

Kahlen chuckled. “It used to be a stag, actually. The same as James.”

“Why did it change?” He looked at her curiously.

“I had a pet owl. Hedwig. She was… beautiful. And loyal, and smart, and my only friend when I went home for the summers.” She smiled fondly, remembering the bird pecking at her hair and nuzzling her chin. “She died a year ago, protecting me, and with her went my childhood. I think… I think my patronus changed to become just that. The collection of every happy childhood memory.”

They fell into silence, honouring the bird that had meant so much to her.

Chapter Text

Kahlen was relaxing at the spa with Nat and Wanda when the hair on the back of her neck stood, shocking her out of her dream-like state. She knew what it meant; there was magic in the air. Strong magic, based on the goosebumps that flooded her body.

Her first thought was Voldemort, but she was quick to dismiss it.

He’s dead, she reminded herself. You killed him. He’s not coming back.

It took only a split second longer for her to realize that someone powerful was here, which could very well mean her friends were in danger.

With no explanation to the other women, Kahlen quickly got dressed and rushed upstairs, following the source of the magic until she arrived in the common room. She expected to see some evil witch or wizard standing over the others as they screamed in agony, so imagine her surprise when instead she found them laughing and hugging two men she’d never met before.

“Oh! Kahlen, come say hi,” Tony said, ushering her forward. She walked, albeit cautiously, toward the group, noting the bigger of the two looking at her with distrust.

“And who is this?” The man stated, his long blond hair swivelling as he looked between Tony and Kahlen.

“Thor, this is Kahlen, my daughter,” Tony explained. Immediately the distrust in the muscled man’s expression was replaced by one of pure and unadulterated joy.

“A daughter! How wonderful Tony, you must be so proud!” The man, Thor, clapped Tony on the back. He didn’t seem to care how his friend had a teenage daughter, the smile on his friend’s face was enough of an explanation for the god.

“I am,” Tony replied, and Kahlen blushed at the praise. “Oh, I’m being rude. Kahlen, these are our friends, Thor and—”

“Loki!” Kahlen gasped, any threat of danger vanishing. A huge, involuntary grin split her face as she looked at the god with long dark hair and an impeccable sense of style.

Everyone else in the room watched on, shocked by her excitement at meeting the trickster god.

“Oh Merlin, I can’t believe I’m meeting you!”

“Um… what?” Clint asked in complete disbelief. “I’m confused. You were just introduced to Thor but you’re fangirling over… Loki?”

“Oh hush,” she hissed, “I’m not fangirling! Loki is a legend among wizards! He’s the father of magic on earth, the creator of spells and master of trickery. It’s an honour to meet you,” she said earnestly, sticking out her hand which he accepted with a grin.

“Ok, this is bizarre,” Sam said, Rhodey nodding in agreement.

“I know you as well, Mistress of Death.” Loki revelled in the shock that reverberated around the room. 

Kahlen was too amazed that the God of Mischief knew of her to be upset at him for using the nickname she hoped her family would never learn the reason behind.

“I’m sorry,” Tony started, mind reeling. “Mistress of what ?”

“It’s nothing,” Kahlen hurriedly insisted, then before anyone could ask more questions she spoke to Loki once again, this time in parseltongue. Apparently that was one thing Voldemort had left behind.

“It really is an honour to meet you,” Kahlen hissed out, watching from the corner of her eye as everyone else looked utterly confused. “I can’t believe you know me.”

“Of course,” Loki responded in kind, effectively making it a private conversation. The rest of the group looked at the two magical beings, not a clue as to what was being said right in front of them. “In fact, I’m excited to be meeting you. Slayer of the Salazar Basilisk, vanquisher of the Dark Lord, saviour of the Wizarding World.” The way he spoke was captivating, smooth and low and oh my god I’m talking to Loki—

After a moment she registered his comment, cheeks colouring at the awe she detected in his voice. She saw Loki glance to his right and smirk. Following his gaze she found Steve watching them with the same confusion as the rest of them, but his expression was coloured with something more; anger, perhaps even jealousy.

“I do believe,” Loki spoke, just over a whisper despite the fact that none of their onlookers could understand his words, “you have an admirer, Miss Potter.” The red pallor of her cheeks darkened but she laughed.

“Yes, well, it’s bound to happen when you’re this perfect,” she sighed, flipping her hair over her shoulder dramatically.

Loki chuckled. “Don’t forget your humility.”

“Oh, of course, I am the most humble person to ever walk the planet,” she stated haughtily, breaking character in a fit of giggles.

“You really are amazingly like your father.” He watched her with a fond smile.

“Please,” she scoffed, “Tony could never be this gorgeous.”

“Actually, I was talking about James.”

Kahlen froze.

“Oh,” she said. Then she processed what he’d said. “ Oh. You knew my father?” The hope in her voice couldn’t be concealed. She’d lost James and LIly so early, any information to help focus her images of them was exciting.

“I knew of him,” Loki explained, a soft smile gracing his face. “He and his friends, I believe they had a nickname for themselves—”

“The Marauders,” Kahlen supplied, barely above a whisper. Loki grinned.

“The Marauders. My most devoted followers. Such fine tricksters… aside from the rodent-like boy,” Loki scowled. “He was a waste of magic.”

For obvious reasons, Kahlen agreed.

“Could you…” she hesitated. “Could you tell me about them? What were they like?” 

He thought over her request for a moment, then nodded. “Very well.”

She lit up, her excitement palpable even to those in the room who’d been left out of the conversation.

“On one condition,” he continued, his face very serious. Pausing, Kahlen wracked her brain, searching for what he could possibly want.

Loki offered her his arm which she took after a moment's consideration, then grinned.

“You must tell me what it was like to meet death and return victorious!”

And with that, they left the stunned Avengers staring after closed elevator doors.

— — —

After several hours of sharing war stories, Kahlen and Loki had found their way back to the common room only to find the rest of the residents of the Tower doing the very same thing. 

“So… you peed in the suit?” Clint asked, disgust written all over his face.

“No, look, it—Rhodey, stop laughing—it wasn’t that simple!” Tony glared at his friend who’d fallen to the floor, tears streaming from his eyes as his laughter continued.

“Wait, what?” Kahlen took a seat on the couch next to Clint, taking in the scene and piecing together the topic of conversation. “You peed in your suit? Why?”

“It wasn’t that simple!” Tony insisted, Rhodey still unable to produce a single word.

“Oh, please,” Nat scoffed, “it was exactly that simple.” She winked in Kahlen’s direction, then took a swig of her drink only to find it empty. “Barton, would you be a dear and get me another drink?” Nat smiled sweetly at the man but was met with a scowl.

“The world class assassin can’t get her own drink?”

“She can, but then she would have to tell everyone what happened in Ecuador three years ago.” Her once-sweet smile became a victorious smirk as she watched Clint stomp toward the bar. 

Thor chuckled, sitting down with his hammer between him and the young witch as they shared an amused smile.

“I’m sorry, could we return to the subject of Stark urinating in one of his metal monstrosities?” The mischievous grin sported by Loki was rivalled only by Tony’s murderous glare.

“I was dying!” Tony seethed. “Besides, I’ve never tried to destroy New York City! ”

Loki shrugged.

Tony’s hands clenched, as though he was imagining a particular brunette god’s neck being crushed between them.

The whole display was so ridiculous that Kahlen couldn’t help but laugh, and the others weren’t far behind. She’d never expected to find a place where she’d feel so at home, where she’d feel so comfortable being just Kahlen. Not The Girl Who Lived, not the chosen one, not even the Mistress of Death. Just… Kahlen.

“Thor, could you please move your stupid mew-mew?” Clint pouted at the god with a drink in either hand, the offending hammer sitting innocently next to Kahlen.

Thor chuckled. “You’ve been speaking to Miss Lewis, I presume?” Thor met the sharp-shooter’s gaze, but made no move to move the hammer.

Kahlen watched the silent stand-off. Eventually, she rolled her eyes and grabbed the hammer. She’d planned to move it to the floor or pass it to Thor, but the astonished looks she received from the rest of the room had her freeze, the hammer in her hand pointed to the ceiling.

After far too much silence, Kahlen began to blush.

“What? What have I done wrong?”

“That…” Sam cleared his throat, “Kahlen, Mjolnir is enchanted. Only those who it deems worthy are able to lift it. To anyone else, it’s as good as welded to the floor.”

The easier explanation for Kahlen to comprehend was that this was all a prank, which is why she merely scoffed a little and replied, “Worthy, sure.” In the following silence, she realized they weren’t pranking her. “Wait, really?”

Everyone nodded, beginning to come out of their stupor and grinning at her.

“ Ohmygod ,” Peter exclaimed, practically jumping out of his skin, “think of all the pranks!”

Kahlen turned to Thor and tried to hand him the hammer, holding it out as if it were diseased. “I’m so sorry, I had no idea!”

“It’s all right,” he grinned, waving her off. “The hammer chooses who may wield it, only those who it considers worthy. And I think it’s chosen well.”

The hammer glowed slightly, warmth radiating from where Kahlen gripped it and flowing throughout her body. She adjusted her grip, feeling the well-balanced weight of the weapon in her hand, though it felt hardly heavier than a TV remote to her. How could it be immovable to the others in the room? To Earth’s mightiest heroes? Why would the weapon of a god find her more worthy than the Avengers? Thinking about it hurt her brain, but it also filled her with a sense of pride, barely noticeable beneath the doubt but there nonetheless.

Chapter Text

For most people, having no one celebrate you on your birthday is depressing. For Kahlen, however, it was the ideal way to spend the day, which is why she wasn’t too upset to hear her friends tell her they wouldn’t be able to make it.

“We’re really sorry, Kallie,” Hermione explained, “but with Ron’s training he hardly has any time to himself, and Kingsley’s asked me to handle the muggle division of the ministry, which is a complete mess, and Ginny is practicing all the time for quidditch tryouts, and George is running his shop, and it’s all just—”

“A lot?” Kahlen suggested, smiling at her exasperated friend. “It’s fine, Hermione, really. I’m happy for all of you, you’re all doing amazing things.” She tried not to think about how she wasn’t doing amazing things, focusing instead on the wonderful changes in her friend’s lives. “So, the muggle division?”

Hermione blushed. “Yes. Apparently half the department were death eaters, so there’s a lot to be done, or rather, un done.”

“That’s fantastic, ‘Mione. I’m so proud of you.” She stared at the ceiling of her bedroom, her phone silent beside her head. “So I suppose you’re not going back to Hogwarts then?”

“You haven’t heard? They’ve given the three of us honorary completion of our seventh year, since we couldn’t attend last year.” Ron sounded smug, which was hardly a surprise. He’d never been a fan of schoolwork.

“Anyway,” Hermione continued, “we really are sorry we can’t be there. We’ve sent owls with our gifts, and we’ll celebrate the minute you’re back on British soil, alright?”

“Sounds perfect.” Kahlen smiled sadly to herself. “I really miss you guys.”

“We miss you too. When will you be back?”

After thinking that same question for days, Kahlen still had no answer. 

“I suppose the end of the summer, right?” It sounded more like a question than she’d intended, but she waited for an answer regardless.

“It’s up to you,” Ron replied. “There’s no rush, if you’re enjoying yourself.”

They fell into silence, but Kahlen wasn’t sure what to say. She was definitely enjoying herself. She was beginning to realize just how much these people meant to her, she wasn’t ready to leave them. But she missed her friends in England too. 

And then there was Steve to think about. She wasn’t sure where they were at the moment. It wasn’t awkward between them, but it wasn’t comfortable either. There was something unspoken between them, and the longer it stayed silent the more tense their conversations became. Nevertheless, he’d been keeping to his promise, doing little things to try to earn back her trust. Saving her food when she was late to dinner, leaving her gifts and trinkets. She eyed the miniature witch’s hat he’d given her several days ago, thinking of how shy he’d seemed. How could she just go back to England after all that’s happened? And what about all that’s yet to happen?

“So what’ll you do on your birthday, then?” Hermione cut into her thoughts.

“Ah, yes. My birthday…” 

Kahlen grimaced, feeling Hermione glowering at her through the phone.

“You haven’t told anyone, have you.”

“Um… no.” Kahlen continued before Hermione could protest. “You know I don’t like celebrating my birthday, it feels… wrong somehow. Besides, everyone is busy with their own thing tomorrow, there’s no need to make them feel guilty for not knowing.”

Either Hermione recognized the logic in her argument or had just given up on convincing Kahlen she deserved to be celebrated. Whatever the reason, she let it go, much to Kahlen’s relief.

“I should probably go, it’s my night to cook dinner. I’ll visit soon, yeah?” They said their goodbyes and Kahlen made her way to the common room, flipping through recipes in her mind.

She’d settled on a creamy tomato soup, spaghetti and meatballs, and breadsticks, which was already underway when Steve walked in. He seemed nervous, shifting from foot to foot, fiddling with his hands as though he didn’t know where they should be. After several moments of her pretending not to notice him, Kahlen spoke.

“Hey Steve. How was your sparring match with Rhodey?” This seemed to confuse him.

“How… how do you know about that?”

Kahlen turned to face him, smirking as she revealed the monitor displaying the gym. “How’s your arm? That looked like a solid blow.” Steve blushed.

“Ah… it’s fine, thanks.” He shifted again, eyes fixed on the floor.

Kahlen frowned. It was unlike Steve to be so anxious. He was usually so calm and collected, but right now he seemed… off.

“Steve?” She waited until he met her gaze. “Is everything okay?”

“Would you like to have dinner with me?” He blurted out, his face beet red.

Kahlen looked between Steve and the meal she was currently making, reddening his face further.

“Tomorrow,” he clarified. “Would you like to have dinner with me tomorrow?”

Kahlen smiled. “I would love to.” 

Steve breathed a sigh of relief, a huge grin replacing his earlier grimace. “Great! Awesome, so I’ll… see you tomorrow?”

She giggled. “Are you not coming to dinner tonight?”

“Oh. Right.” He laughed. “I’ll see you later then.”

She laughed with him, turning back to the food. “Bye Steve.”

This is brilliant, she thought. Dinner with Steve and avoiding my birthday in one fell swoop.

— — —

Dinner with Steve was not quite what Kahlen had expected. His gentlemanly manners? Sure. The butterflies in her stomach? Not surprising. Outstanding food? A definite perk. But she hadn’t expected this feeling . The feeling that everything was suddenly right in the world, that nothing could touch her, that things finally made sense. This feeling of safety that no one had perfected quite like Steve. It took her breath away, just how relaxed she could be with someone she’d only known for two months.

“It’s strange,” Steve said. They’d been enjoying a companionable silence, finishing the last of their meals at the restaurant Steve had chosen.

“What is?” She folded her hands under her chin, waiting for an answer.

Steve smiled. “No one has recognized us. We’ve been out for hours, and yet… nothing. It's so quiet.”

“Yeah, um…” Kahlen released her hands and looked down, embarrassed. “I may have glamoured us. I’m sorry, I should’ve asked, I just thought it might be nice to be… normal.”

His hand rested on top of hers, prompting her to look back at his grinning face.

“Are you kidding? It’s amazing. I haven’t felt this normal in years. Thank you.”

They decided to take the long way back to the tower, strolling through Central Park. It was a quiet night, hardly any New Yorkers on the trail they took. The trees canopied above them, the moon and stars peaking through the branches and lighting the path where the lamps didn’t reach. They came to an open space, the night sky clear above them and yet very few stars looking down at them. Kahlen found herself staring at the nearly blank sky.

“The view from the rooftop is so much better,” she stated softly. She felt Steve tense beside her.

“Have you…” he paused. “Have you been back up there since… since we, um—”

“Since we kissed?” He blushed. “Or since you dragged me away by my arm,” she laughed.

“Kahlen, I am so—”

“Sorry, I know,” she laughed again. “It’s fine Steve, honestly. I’ve forgiven you. It had to happen at some point, I’m just sorry it had to happen that way.”

“Still,” he persisted, “it wasn’t right, I should never have forced you to show everyone—”

“Steve—”

“—it wasn’t my place, and I—”

“Steve, stop, really—”

“—I should’ve talked to you first, heard you out, but I just—”

Her lips against his cut off his train of thought, all apologies forgotten. It was different from their last kiss; where their first kiss had been slow and delicate, this one was fast and powerful. Before he’d held her like a piece of fine china, but this time he pulled her into himself, his hands wrapped around her waist. While his hands were low, hers went high, going around his neck and into his hair, stroking the soft blond strands. His tongue traced her bottom lip, eliciting a gasp from the young witch as she let the scent of strawberries wash over her again. Merlin, how I’ve missed that, she thought to herself, though even that much of a coherent thought was nearly impossible to focus on. 

After several minutes, and much to Kahlen’s disappointment, Steve pulled away slightly, only to rest his forehead against hers once again. They stayed that way, breaths heavy, eyes searching the other for any hint of regret. When they found none, both broke into smiles, wider than either thought they were capable of after everything they’d been through.

With the matter of their past mistakes settled, Steve led Kahlen back to the Tower, his hand never leaving hers.

Chapter Text

After such a wonderful dinner, Kahlen couldn’t imagine anything making her birthday better. The pair had enjoyed each other's company until the elevator came to a stop, at which point they were bombarded with a chorus of “SURPRISE!” which startled them, pushing away from their previously close position.

“Wh-what— um… huh?” Kahlen stuttered, eyes wide as she saw what was in front of her.

The Avengers had decorated the common room with banners and streamers, each of them sporting a colourful party hat. What was more surprising, however, were the party hats worn by Hermione, Luna, Neville, Draco, Remus, Tonks, and baby Teddy, along with all the Weasleys.

“What are you guys doing here?” Kahlen rushed from Steve to her friends, a growing smile on her face. 

“We wanted to surprise you!” Hermione enveloped her in a crushing hug, but she had no desire to be anywhere else.

Over her friend's shoulder she noticed Tony looking confused and a little angry at something behind her. Turning around, all she saw was Steve watching her interact with her friends, a soft smile gracing his lips. Unfortunately, thinking about his lips had her red in the face, which only seemed to upset Tony further.

“So!” Kahlen said loudly, trying to break the tension before anyone acted on it. “Have you all been introduced?”

“Yes, we’ve had the pleasure of conversing with your, ah… companions,” Draco muttered, making Kahlen giggle.

“Oh I have missed you, Draco,” she laughed.

“Yes, well, your absence has been… noted,” She playfully glared at the white-haired boy, causing him to sigh. “Fine. I’ve missed you Potter. Happy now?”

“Very much so.”

“He’s been insufferable, really,” Ginny chimed in. “Always whining, ‘oh Kahlen, wherefore art thou Kahlen’.” She sighed dramatically, the back of her hand against her head as if she were on the verge of collapse.

“Please,” Draco scoffed, “You wish I’d troubled you with my thoughts. Maybe then your impressions would be more accurate, eh, Weasley?” Kahlen laughed once again, ecstatic to have all her favourite people in one room.

“Remus!” Making her way over to the young Lupin couple, Kahlen took Teddy into her arms, grunting with false effort. “My, but you have grown!”

Tonks chuckled. “Try having him on your hip 16 hours a day. Nearly 7 months old and heavy as a full grown mandrake.”

“Only much cuter!” Kahlen cooed, holding her godson at eye level and making faces until she heard his perfect little laugh. The sound brought smiles to his parents, the happy couple standing together, Tonks wrapped in her werewolf’s arms. They seemed serene, perfectly content with not a care in the world. Kahlen saw their eyes fixed on their son, love and adoration shining through.

“How are you? How’s life at Lupin Cottage?” She tried to be nonchalant, but she needed to hear them confirm what she believed to be true: that they were completely happy together, enjoying time with their son.

“It’s good,” Remus answered, a knowing smile directed her way. Then, softly, he added, “We’re good Kahlen. We’re happier than ever.” Despite Tonks smiling in agreement, Kahlen still looked guilty. “We appreciate what you’ve been trying to do for us, truly. But you don’t need to get that signature for us.”

“We’ve already done everything you’re not supposed to do out of wedlock. Fat lot of good a marriage certificate will do now.” Tonks winked, causing Remus to roll his eyes, a faint blush adorning his face.

Kahlen smiled at the couple.

“I’m glad you’re happy, but there are so many others who suffer from the ridiculous injustices of the grouchy old racists in the ministry. I can change that. I have a responsibility to change that, and for once it’s a responsibility I’m all too happy to bear.” She smiled again, bouncing the baby on her hip as their focus shifted to more pleasant affairs, never noticing Tony listening from a few paces away while he pretended to listen to Ginny explain how Quidditch works. He frowned, finally understanding just how important his signature was to his daughter, and apparently to the rest of wizarding Britain, too. He felt only a little guilty though, finding it hard to feel badly for wanting a relationship with her. He knew he’d do it again if he had to, though knowing what he now knew he might’ve handled some things differently. For starters, he would’ve asked a few dozen more questions about her upbringing with the Dursleys. Filing that thought under ‘People to destroy’ , he focused his attention back on the redhead, trying to wrap his head around bludgers.

— — —

After several hours of getting to know each other, the group stood around the massive dinner table with Kahlen in the middle, eyes closed and curiosity piqued. Wanda had said she had a surprise but it couldn’t be wrapped so she needed to close her eyes, but the suspense was killing her.

She heard Wanda fiddling with something in front of her, but her friend made no move to explain what was happening to the witch.

“Wanda!” She whined, bouncing impatiently and earning several laughs from those around her.

Wanda hummed. “Patience,” she said slowly. Kahlen couldn’t tell if it was from her concentration or just plain cruelty, but if it was the latter she was sure her friend would have been in Slytherin.

“Okay… open!”

Kahlen opened her eyes to find a cake several layers tall and so wide she couldn’t have wrapped her arms around the base. Amazingly, the size of the behemoth dessert was not the most incredible thing about it.

The layers were all decorated differently, images melding together to create a patchwork of stories. Kahlen spotted a basilisk, the Deathly Hallows, a prophecy, a wand, a dragon, a cup, a castle, and many other designs that brought back a slew of memories.

“I…” She gaped at the sight, eyes wide. “I don’t understand. Why…?”

Wanda sent a gentle smile her way, taking her hand.

“You’ve had many tragedies in your young life, Kahlen. But these images, these stories… They represent the bad and the good, the hard and the happy. These aren’t sad things, but memories of adventures you’ve had with your friends.” Kahlen met her best friend's eyes, noting the smiles and unshed tears that matched hers. “These experiences made you who you are, and we’re so very glad to have such an extraordinary young woman as a part of our family.”

Wanda waited for a reaction. Laughing, crying, screaming, she couldn’t be sure what would happen next, but she hoped the cake had been a good idea. Her nerves were put to rest when Kahlen tackled her in a hug, squeezing her so tightly she felt her lungs might collapse.

“It’s perfect,” Kahlen whispered, tears rolling down her cheeks and landing on her smiling lips. “Thank you.” Wanda returned her hug with a sigh of relief.

— — —

Around 1am, the older Weasleys had gone home, wishing Kahlen a happy birthday and leaving behind Ron, Ginny, and George. Pepper and Peter had to leave, having work and school (respectively) the next morning, and Neville and Luna opted to return home early. Remus and Tonks followed shortly after, though after much begging on Kahlen’s part they left Teddy in her care, taking her up on her offer of free babysitting for a day or two. By the look on Tonks’ face as they left, Kahlen had to wonder if Teddy might have a sibling sometime in the near future.

With the little boy sound asleep in a cradle Kahlen had transfigured and Ditty watching over him, the remaining party sat down for a game of Veritaserum or Drink, actually knowing what the game was this time.

“Okay, the game is simple.” Ginny poured everyone a shot of firewhiskey, rationing the correct amount of veritaserum to the bottle. “You’re asked a question, and you can either choose to take a shot and not answer or take a swig from the bottle. One swig is just enough veritaserum to ensure one question is answered honestly. Got it?” Everyone nodded.

“I’ll start!” George eagerly volunteered, turning his awestruck gaze to the God of Mischief. “Is it true you once transformed into a snake and stabbed Thor in the thigh?”

Loki took a drink from the veritaserum. “No.” George deflated. “It was in his abdomen,” Loki grinned, watching the redhead literally jump with glee.

Ginny rolled her eyes at her brother’s antics.

“I’ll go next.” The witches and wizards groaned. “Ron.” He paled. “What happened in your first year with the Devil’s Snare?”

Ron took the veritaserum, puffing his chest out. “I didn’t panic and Hermione, brilliant as ever, helped us get out.”

Hermione scoffed, taking the veritaserum despite not having been asked a question.

“You flipped out and screamed like a little girl, and you would have died had I not paid attention in herbology.” Kahlen laughed, watching Ron’s face turn a similar shade to his hair.

“Sam.” Steve called attention to himself, smirking at his friend. “How many times did I lap you when we ran in DC?”

Sam slowly reached for the shot, murderous glare directed at the super soldier.

“Hermione,” Kahlen sing-songed, much to her friend’s displeasure.

“Yes Kahlen, my dearest friend in the entire world?”

“Exactly how far did you get with Viktor Krum, Quidditch extraordinaire?” 

Hermione fixed her glare on Kahlen as she reached for a shot, but after years of seeing the same look for everything from procrastinating assignments to breaking into the ministry, it did little to make her feel guilty now.

Eyes wide, Ron watched his girlfriend take a shot, her cheeks ruby red.

“Bloody hell Hermione, he couldn’t even say your name!”

“I’m aware Ronald. Words were hardly necessary for what we did.” Kahlen had to hold her hand over her mouth to stifle her giggles. Ron pouted, averting his eyes from Hermione, to which she scoffed. 

“Kahlen Maria Potter, I blame you entirely.” The two women laughed, then noticed how everyone had turned to look at Tony. The man looked gobsmacked.

“You…” He struggled to find the words. “Your… Your middle name is Maria?”

Brows furrowed, Kahlen responded. “Yeah, why?”

Tony grinned from ear to ear. “My mother’s name was Maria Stark.”

Now understanding, Kahlen smiled softly.

“Well, she must have been an amazing woman for Lily Potter to have honoured her name.”

The group was all smiles as the game continued.

“Wanda, where did you get your rings? I have a cousin who would love them.” Clint leaned forward to get a closer look as she reached for the bottle.

“They’re family heirlooms,” she explained, amused to see Clint pout. “Clint… did you really want them for yourself?”

A moment of silence passed before Clint quietly reached for a shot, everyone laughing at his expense.

“George,” Hermione began. “In your opinion, what is the best movie ever made?”

“ The Godfather, of course,” he insisted, his cheeks turning crimson. “What a silly question, everyone knows that’s my favourite movie.”

“Then take the veritaserum,” Ginny suggested, grinning.

George glared at the bottle, contemplating before quickly taking a swig and muttering something unintelligible.

“Sorry, what was that?” Kahlen asked, acting innocent. “We couldn’t quite hear you.”

George scowled.

“It’s The Notebook, okay!”

Everyone laughed, seeing the man’s expression turn from one of anger to one of sadness.

“It’s just so beautiful! He read to her, everyday, reminding her of who he was, and then… then they died in each other’s arms!” He was on the verge of hysterics, tears in his eyes. The wizards rolled their eyes and turned back to the circle, used to George’s passion for his favourite movie.

Ignoring George’s faint “He built her a house, RON! A HOUSE!” Nat asked the next question.

“Thor, how did you meet your girlfriend?”

The god smiled with genuine excitement, reaching for the bottle and taking a swig.

“The lovely Jane Foster hit me with her car,” he says proudly. “Twice.”

After a moment to let that digest, Draco turned to the Gryffindors.

“Which of you have snuck into the Slytherin common room?”

Not a single one of them looked the least bit guilty, passing the bottle around.

“I haven’t,” Ginny answered.

“Me neither,” Hermione added, though her cheeks coloured a bit, reminding Kahlen of another great question to ask her friend.

“I have,” she and Ron said.

“When?” Draco’s frown was so amusing they almost didn’t answer.

“Second year.”

“How?”

“Polyjuice potion.”

“Who?”

“What is this, twenty questions?” Kahlen laughed. “We became Crabbe and Goyle, followed you into the common room and listened to you bitch about me for twenty minutes before we started to change back.”

Draco’s eyes widened. “That was you?!”

“Oh, piss off Draco, it was like five years ago and you were being a prat.” Kahlen rolled her eyes at the scowl on the Slytherin’s face, looking back at Hermione.

“‘Mione, what happened when you tried the polyjuice potion?” She was sure her friend could tell that Kahlen would tell the story regardless of her decision, so she sucked it up and took the veritaserum.

“I turned into a cat,” she mumbled, cheeks red at the howling laughter that followed her admission. Eager to turn the focus from herself, she fixed her glare on George.

“You never answered Malfoy’s question,” she pointed out.

George grinned. “Freddie and I snuck in several times to test our latest inventions.”

“The exploded dungbomb in the toilets?” Draco seemed unimpressed.

“Among other things,” George confirmed. “Do you remember the muggle posters that covered every inch of green and black in the dungeons?”

“You dickhead! They were stuck for three weeks!” Draco was seething, but George was preening as if he were complimented.

“Sticky Silk, sold only at Weasley’s Wizard Wheezes.”

“I think the two of us should talk later,” Clint said. “About something totally unrelated, of course.” The residents of the tower looked nervous, wondering just what pranks the two could think of together.

“Anyway,” Clint continued, “I have a question for our lovely Kahlen.” She raised an eyebrow in question. “Did you go to see the Statue of Liberty without me?” His light glare earned an eye roll from the witch as she reached for the bottle.

“Steve and I went a few weeks ago,” she admitted, avoiding Steve’s eyes she could feel on her for fear of blushing in front of everyone.

“I knew it! You betrayed me!”

Kahlen shrugged.

“I have a question,” Tony said, suddenly serious as he turned to face Steve. “Do you have a thing for my daughter?”

Kahlen, blood rushing to her cheeks and veritaserum still on her tongue, exclaimed “Dad!” before realizing what she said. Everyone froze as Tony fixed his shocked expression on Kahlen. Slowly, he began to smile, surprised and ecstatic at the same time. Steve forgotten for the moment, Tony enveloped his daughter in a bear hug, smiling wider as he felt her wrap her arms around him. Before it could get really awkward, since everyone was just watching them with soft smiles, they pulled apart.

“It’s getting late,” Kahlen pointed out. “I don’t want to waste time with my godson being hungover, so I think I’ll head to bed.”

“Don’t you have some magical solution?” Sam asked.

“Well, duh,” Kahlen responded as though it were obvious. “It’s just an expression. We use sober-up potions.”

“I love magic,” Clint sighed, making the group laugh as everyone began to disperse to their rooms, or guest rooms for the wizards and witches. Tony and Steve stayed behind, cleaning the common room of drinks, cake, and streamers. They worked in silence, neither awkward nor comfortable. Both could feel the unanswered question that ended the game, though neither wanted to bring it up first. Finally, Tony broke the silence.

“You never answered my question,” he said quietly. It wasn’t accusatory, but Steve’s heartbeat sped regardless. He swallowed, turning to face his friend.

“Yes,” he admitted. “I have a thing for your daughter.” He kept his expression neutral, trying to gauge Tony’s reaction. The billionaire crossed his arms, his gaze narrow. They remained that way for a minute before Tony released his stance with a sigh.

“I don’t like it,” he said slowly. “But I won’t interfere. You’re both adults… barely,” he added under his breath, but, of course, Steve heard. Taking another deep breath, he continued. “This decision is yours. But if you ever make her unhappy,” he said with a fierce glare, “I will pick up where we left off on that mountain in Siberia. Capiche?”

“Tony,” Steve said, completely genuine, “If I don’t treat her like the goddamn goddess she is, you’d better throw my ass down that mountain.”

Tony smirked.

“Language, Cap.”

Chapter Text

The day after her birthday, Kahlen stood in the kitchen on their private floor heating up a bottle of milk, Teddy on her hip. The little boy was watching her intently, his hair a similar curly dark brown to hers and his eyes shifting from green to brown. She smiled down at him, the need to protect and love him overwhelming her. She understood now how Sirius had felt about her. She wasn’t just his best friend’s kid, he’d loved her as his own. She would do anything to keep Teddy safe and happy, and she knew that Sirius had felt the same. If Teddy were in the situation she’d been in at the end of fifth year, she would do exactly what Sirius had done. It helped to have this new perspective; she’d begun to realize that Sirius’ sacrifice was not something to regret, but something to appreciate and respect. He’d made his choices, and Kahlen realized now that he wouldn’t have regretted them had he known the outcome.

So caught up in her thoughts, she hardly noticed when Tony entered the room, shifting from foot to foot with a hand behind his back. He cleared his throat to gain her attention.

“Hey Tony,” she greeted him, smiling. He frowned a bit at the use of his name, but it disappeared quickly. They’d only known each other for a couple months, they had plenty of time to get to the ‘dad' stage.

“H-hey,” he stuttered a bit, cursing himself as a look of confusion came over her. He took a deep breath. “I have a late birthday gift for you.”

Kahlen giggled. “I think the bracelet, earrings, new phone, clothes, and hologram projector were plenty.” He chuckled, though made no move to apologize for spoiling her. Giving people gifts was one of the ways he showed them he cared about them. If anything, he didn’t get her enough.

“This one is something you’ve been wanting for a while,” he explained. He brought his hand from behind his back, placing familiar papers on the table in front of her. Kahlen gasped, recognizing the Wizengamot forms immediately, Tony’s neat signature on the bottom of the page.

“But… our agreement was until the end of the summer,” she insisted, panicking slightly. She’d just begun to feel comfortable, she didn’t want to leave yet. 

“And you’re welcome to stay if you want, for however long you want,” Tony insisted. “But I realize now how important these forms are, and I couldn’t hold that over you. It wouldn’t be right. Besides, I want to spend time with you because you want to spend time with me, not because you feel forced.”

“I’ve never felt forced,” Kahlen said, waiting until he met her eyes to make sure he knew she was being honest. “Maybe into staying at the tower, but never into spending time with you. Every dinner, every lab hangout, every training session… I’ve wanted to spend time with you, to get to know you. And I’m glad I did.” She smiled at him, but her gaze was pulled back to the forms like a magnet.

She contemplated staying at the tower. Training with everyone, enjoying dinners together, braiding sessions with Nat and Wanda, movie nights and game nights and…

Steve. 

How could she leave when there was so much left unsaid between them? There was so much she didn’t know about him, so much she wanted to learn. She hadn’t felt this way in years, not since she lost Cedric to the war. She wanted to see what could happen, see what he could be to her. How could she do that from halfway across the world?

And Tony. She finally felt like she was getting to know him. She’d never done this before; her other parental figures were either dead or had families of their own, and while she loved them with all her heart, with Tony it was different. She wasn’t just tagging along in someone else's family, she was joining one of her own. Hermione, the Weasleys, the Lupins… they were her family too, but the Avengers were hers. 

She wanted to stay. But looking at the little boy in her arms, she knew she couldn’t abandon the Wizengamot. There were too many still suffering. If she had the power to change that, she had to do it. 

Tony must have seen the resolve take hold of her, because he gave her a sad smile, pride in his eyes.

“Do what you’ve got to do,” he told her. No judgement, no influencing her one way or the other. Just trust.

“I have to go back,” she said sadly. “I have to. But I meant what I said: I’m not giving up. On any of you.” She took his hand with her free one. “I’ll come back as soon as I can, and I’ll call and I’ll visit. This is just something I have to do.”

He nodded in understanding, prouder than ever to call her his daughter.

— — —

By noon the next day Kahlen was packed and her portkey was waiting for her. She didn’t want to drag out her leaving, too afraid of changing her mind. She’d already said goodbye to most of the Avengers, crying no less than 3 times. Wanda in particular was difficult to talk to. In the short time they’d known each other, the witches had become incredibly close, so saying goodbye was practically torture. And seeing as both had actually been tortured, that said something about just how much they would be missed.

The only one she’d yet to speak to was Steve. She’d left him for last on purpose, needing to get her wits about her. She wasn’t sure where they were at, but if nothing else they were friends, and she would miss him. She checked his floor but found it empty. The gym was similarly vacant, leaving her at a loss.

“Friday,” she called, confusion lacing her words.

“Yes Miss Potter.”

“Where is Steve?”

“Captain Spangles is currently on the roof.”

Kahlen smiled at the nickname, then smiled wider as she processed what the AI had said.

“Thanks Fri.”

She took the elevator up to the roof, finding Steve standing at the edge, relaxed and leaning on the railing. She took advantage of the fact that he hadn’t noticed her arrival, admiring him from behind for a minute before walking to join him.

“Y’know,” she started, looking out over the city, “we don’t have the best track record with the roof.” Steve chuckled.

“There’ve been some good moments,” he defended, both of them thinking of a starry sky and a delicate kiss. They looked out at the bustling roads, falling into a calm quiet.

“Thank you,” Kahlen spoke softly. She felt his questioning eyes on her. “For the best birthday I’ve ever had,” she explained, “long before I knew there would be a party with all my favourite people.”

Steve grinned. “I could thank you for the same thing,” he responded. At her furrowed brows, he continued. “Our Staten Island trip… it was on July 4th, my birthday.” He realized his mistake as she began to smile, groaning at his misfortune.

“Captain America’s birthday is July 4th?! Are you kidding?” They laughed together. “You really are Mr. America, I guess. Maybe there’s another great American holiday we can celebrate sometime,” she suggested, earning a smile from the man.

“I’ll be waiting.”

— — —

With all her bags packed and goodbye’s finished, there was nothing left to do. Kahlen and Steve made their way down to the common room, finding everyone else waiting for them. Clint handed Kahlen Teddy, watching in fascination as his hair shifted from honey blond to dark brown. Kahlen took the boy gladly, settling him in a harness to keep him safe during portkey travel. She eyed the portkey nervously: the pen she’d tried to trick Tony into signing with.

She looked up at her father, expecting him to be angry with her for leaving, but all she found was a soft smile. He pulled her into a tight hug, careful of the baby strapped to her. They stayed that way for several minutes, neither wanting to break away.

“Thank you for proving me wrong,” Kahlen finally whispered. She’d thought he would let her down or leave her, but he’d done more than just prove her wrong. He did everything he could to prove that he would be a good dad, and she believed with all her heart that they would only become closer.

“Thank you for finding me,” he responded, pulling back to look her in the eyes. “Promise to do it again?” Kahlen giggled through her tears.

“I promise.”

She looked around, the smiling faces of her family looking back. She didn’t know how to put into words how glad she was to have met them and how excited she was to return, so she tried to put all her love in her eyes. Somehow, she knew they understood.

She took one last look and grabbed the pen, already thinking of the time when she would come back home.