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Chapter Text

Ex-excuse me? Prince Thor Odinson of Asgard?" The question rang out in the air, eliciting the attention of the rest of the Avengers away from the aftermath of their latest adventure that was currently blocking the streets of New York. Just another classic Tuesday involving some human who decided to mess with the powers that be to gain their own power and inadvertently wrecked part of the city in the process before ultimately being stopped by the Avengers. The team collectively glanced over in the direction of the speaker, taking in their form as they mentally labeled the person as a non-threat before most of them turned away to continue the relief efforts of moving the debris that littered the streets.

"I am he." Thor loudly stated as he walked toward the voice. He certainly couldn't stop his belated reaction or minor flinch at the approaching figure once he actually looked at the person, who was slowly making their way over to him, being mindful of the broken asphalt on the ground and random carnage in the street. A tiny young woman, demure in stature even in Midgardian standards, was wearing the coziest-looking wool sweater and a pair of jeans, looking entirely innocent and young, and was making her way toward him.

Normally, not one that would incite such a reaction from him but it was her face, however, with her long, black hair pulled up in a loose bun with a few delicate strands falling in her eyes, which were a beautiful shining green that Thor could only remember seeing one other face carry that always tugged on his heart when he thought of him. It was in her cheekbones, the tilt of her nose, the shape of her jaw, the set of her eyes. As if Loki had made a clone of himself while female and left it behind on Midgard. He distantly could hear Tony's curse of surprise underneath the roaring that seemed to echo in his ears. He didn’t know how to react, wanted to call this person out for daring to steal his brother’s face and mock him. It felt like a personal kind of torture to witness his face again after his death.

"My name is Hariel Potter, your Highness, and, due to some recent personal events, I've run into a problem that I hope you could point me in the right direction in how I can solve it." She explained, hands clasped in front of her, looking as innocent as her appearance would suggest.

Thor could barely find himself able to answer the girl for one of the first times in his life. Here was a child, a girl, who looked so very similar to his brother in every way and who had an air of innocence and purity that Loki could never hope to pull off, though he had tried many a time, Loki just had always had a spot of mischief in his eyes that belayed his true identity. One of the most telling signs that this wasn't Loki, happened to be the rune, his own marking, and symbol of Sowilo, carved onto her forehead that emanated pure love and protection, and power with a blessing that went soul-deep. Not even Loki would play with the magicks of old to carve a rune when it would carry over to his usual image. No, it was not something that could not be made easily, and usually required the strongest sacrifice one could give, the life of a parent for their child. And this child, this girl had the marking of his rune with both of her parent’s sacrifices blended in it. Whoever this girl was, and Thor was starting to have some big questions and suspicions, she had been blessed by the nords and that thought had him answering back after a moment's pause.

"How can I help you?" He asked, eyes finally locking onto her familiar, greengreengreen eyes.

"You see, several months ago I died, again. And there have been several incidents since and it seems I may possibly have immortality." She explained.

"Wait, what?" Tony asked, budging forward. "First of all, Loki-clone, how old are you?"

She looked startled, her shoulders hunch up around her ears and she seems to shrink into herself as if by making herself smaller, she will go by unnoticed. She glanced at the billionaire in surprise behind the gold wire-rimmed glasses that seemed to eat up quite a bit of her face from view. Thor couldn't decide if he liked it or not. Green eyes shouldn’t be hidden, should never be caged - he had learned that the hard way and it was a lesson he wouldn’t soon forget. "Um, I'm seventeen. But, um, excuse me, mister, not to be terribly rude and all but I'm really hoping His Highness will be able to tell me if I am or not, being a God and all, so I can go back home."

"Where is home?" Natasha asked casually, sliding forward to stand off to the side with Clint while the rest of the eased forward on the sidewalk and towards the pair. It seemed that the others had caught the uncanny resemblance between his brother and the girl and were having their own suspicious conclusions being drawn. Banner stood off in the back, wary beyond measure while the archer fingered his bow ready to draw and fire immediately.

To her credit, the young girl looked bewildered for a moment at the question and the insertion of another person in the conversation before answering, "Well, Great Britain. I mean technically, Scotland as that's where I've gone to school the last couple of years but I'm a citizen of England."

"And you came all the way to New York to ask if you were immortal," Tony said skeptically. It did seem odd, for someone to come so far just to ask.

"Well yes, after waking back up after the third assassination attempt, I promised 'Mione and Ron I'd ask the only immortal to visit Earth in the recent public eye if he could let me know." She explained, her hands twisting together nervously in front of her.

"Assassination attempt?" Natasha clarified, eyes narrowing slightly.

The Loki-look-alike flushed softly under the attention, somehow looking even more adorable and delicate. "Yes, well, I did just stop a fascist regime six months ago. There's bound to be some retaliation." That response had the Captain giving her his undivided attention, whereas before he had been politely pretending the conversation hadn’t been happening.

"Wait, hold up." Tony pinched the bridge of his nose. "Fascist regime?"

She looked momentarily contrite as well as confused, "Yes, Voldemort and his merry band of Death Eaters. I, I," she pauses, eyes taking in the blank looks and no reaction to the name, "You are aware of the magical world, yes? The President assured me that Prince Thor Odinson and his retinue, the Avengers, had the clearance for our meeting. I made sure I spoke with him before I came to America and attempted to find you. He assured me that it wasn't a big deal and that I could speak with you." Her eyes grew impossibly wider, "Oh Merlin, you don't know. No one has mentioned anything to you. Oh, I've Fudged this up." She looked more distraught as she spoke, her hands coming up to cover her mouth as fear began spreading across her face.

"Do not fear, little witch, I know of the magic users here on this planet," Thor explained, for once not shouting as loudly as he normally spoke, instead he dropped the tone of his voice to one that was soft, soothing, meant to reassure a timid and scared little animal. He knelt down on one knee, so that he could have eye contact with the witch and ignored the startled looks his teammates gave him at his change. "May I place my hand on you to check, little one? I swear to not dig deeper than I need to check upon you." He asked softly, ignoring the squawking of his teammates behind them. He knew that they didn't understand the magic of Asgard, didn't know that the blessing upon her soul was so, so much more than just a scar on her face. They didn’t know that someone, two people in fact, had paid the ultimate sacrifice for her safety, her life. The honor bestowed upon her was beyond their comprehension. She was a sacrifice and magic and love and protection all bundled up in one small little package, like a gift with a bow on top.

The girl gave a short nod, eyes focused on him and Thor couldn't help but soften at the trust she displayed. To bare one's true self was an act of trust towards the other, to show another their innermost self was asking for a lot from a stranger, and Thor couldn’t help but feel so honored by the privilege that this girl was offering upon him. He had a feeling that she had never willingly offered this to another. He solemnly swore to himself that regardless of the outcome - but oh, oh he hoped and he prayed to the Nords now for what he was beginning to suspect to be true - he would not judge this girl for her parentage, but offer her the best guidance that he could. He would take her under his wing and offer her the protection of the Gods.

It wasn't often that he was able to see young magic wielders like this, as they were taken to be trained by his Lady Mother Frigga and her apprentices immediately upon being sent to the palace and he usually had more important things to do than visiting with the apprentices. Thor gently rested his finger on her forehead, right on the runic scarring and immediately he noticed the vast protection spell began to grow visible as a soft, golden glow began illuminating her skin. His eyes closed at the same time as hers, as he noticed how it caressed her in a loving embrace. A mix of Loki's magic and one unfamiliar to him that he had a feeling belonged to her mother. A bit of both parents wrapped together, formed with love, to produce her.

Underneath the protection spell, her very soul seemed to be deeply scarred, as if tragedy upon tragedy had ripped and torn and hurt her over, and over, and over. His heart ached for the no doubt painful constant ache she must be in, for there was no quick fix, no easy healing that could help the pain in the soul. It didn’t help at all, that she seemed to be in the middle of a transformation process that Thor could only guess at how uncomfortable she must feel in her own skin. The change from mortal to immortal was rough, he had heard from the few that walked the halls of Asgard. It had made them feel as if their skin was too tight on their body, like nothing quite fit anymore where it used to but as if they wanted to crawl out of their own skin because it felt wrong.

He opened his eyes, slowly removing his finger from her forehead, and noticed the golden glow slowly settle back under her skin, a soft shimmer that wasn't there before barely detectable to human eyes. Thor couldn't help but lean forward, pressing a soft kiss to his own rune and whispering a blessing, "May you find the rest your soul deserves." He could feel the blessing settling into her heart and soul and the sweet sigh of relief that escaped her lips. He leaned back, giving her some space before asking, "What names have been given to you?"

She slowly blinked her eyes open, staring disoriented at him for only a moment as her magic settled again before her sharp focus was back on him. "I am Lady Hariel Lilian Potter, Lady of the House of Potter and Black, Lord of the House of Slytherin by Conquest, The Girl-Who-Lived, Defender of Hogwarts, Slayer of Basilisk, Friend to House Elves, Hedwig’s Human, TriWizard Tournament Winner, and The Woman-Who-Conquered." Her back straightened, shoulders pushed back, chin raised, her features settling for a neutral and pointed expression, one that had all the trademarks of Loki in it. She did not like all of her titles, hard-won that he had no doubt they were, but still, her soul called out one more, one that she hadn’t spoken of yet.

"You have forgotten one, haven't you? It is one you haven't said out loud yet, but you know it in your soul." He asked, pushing for an answer even if his tone was still soft. He knew that it would be something hard to admit, something soul-deep that she might not be ready for, but that she ultimately needed to acknowledge out loud. He had felt the mark, the brand of possession upon her soul, it was not one that she could escape.

Her expression shuttered, body trembling for a moment, eyes wide before she took a deep breath and whispered for only his ears to hear, "Master of Death."

"Aye." He nodded sagely, "If you would like, I am happy to take you to Asgard. There, you can seek counsel with my Lady Mother Frigga and we can see what we can do."

"There is something else, isn't there, something you aren't saying." She said, eyes sharp upon his face with her expression set in a stubborn way that was so reminiscent of Loki when he wanted to get his own way.

Amusement crinkled in his face, glad for once to not be on her end of the situation. "I know your father, Hariel Lokidottir and I can take you to where he is."

Hariel's expression blanked in pure surprise for a moment, as the shock emanated from her eyes before she let out a surprising snarl that was too like Loki to be a coincidence. He saw out of the corner of his eyes as his team flinched and readied themselves to attack. He didn’t acknowledge their response, giving the girl all of his attention. Everything he had seen before only convinced him more, she held too many characteristics of his brother to be anything less than his daughter. His brother did the same thing when he was upset and wanted to hide it, usually before trying to stab him. Ahhh, good times. "My father is James Potter and he died so I could live. I will not have you spit on his memory!" She was righteous in her fury and Thor was reminded so fiercely of his brother, whose loyalty, once had, was eternal and as furious as the sun itself.

“Perhaps, we should see for ourselves, yes? If I am wrong, I will apologize for my disservice to you and your father.” Thor offered, smiling at the girl who slowly changed from disgruntled and upset to mildly cautious.

“Do you swear it?” She asked, head tilted to the side.

“I swear upon my honor as Prince Thor Odinson, that I will not allow harm to come to you while you are under my protection nor do I speak a lie, Hariel Lokidottir.” He raised up to stand, hand stretched out in the typical Asgardian way of making a promise.

“So mote it be.” She clasped his hand tightly and Thor was delighted to feel her magic pulse between them before settling around their skin in honor of the bond of truth.

Thor laughed, loudly, happily, as he bent down to pick her up in his arms and spin her around in circles. “Asgard will be delighted to have their Princess visit them! The feasts we shall eat will be legendary for millennia to come!”

The shocked, semi-horrified expression on her face as she was spun around before being placed back on the ground would have cheered him up if he hadn’t already felt bursting at the seams over his niece. The snickers his team released would have had him chuckling harder if he wasn’t already beaming from ear to ear. “Heimdall!” He called out to the sky, hand raising with the hammer to point above him, “Bring us home!” A bright flash of light fills the sky before the duo disappears from view, leaving the Avengers blinking in surprise at their sudden diseappearence.

Chapter Text

Being kidnapped again wasn’t exactly how Harry had planned this whole thing going when she had headed to America to find out the truth from the only known God to visit Earth in decades about her own mortality. She just knew that Mione was going to lecture her so hard once she found out. She was going to get teased so hard about The Harry Effect again, she just knew it.

The scattered light finally dissipated around them, letting Harry blink away the brightness affecting her vision to one of the most wonderful sights she had ever seen - disregarding the first boat trip when she was eleven and saw Hogwarts in all her splendor. The golden glow of the bridge under their feet caught her attention first, and by the time she had managed to draw her eyes up - she witnessed the magnificent sight of Asgard in it’s most extravagant splendor.

The skies above Asgard were a brilliant expanse of gold and azure, the air crisp and filled with the hum of ancient magic. Hariel "Harry" Potter, still disoriented from the abrupt journey, stood on the grand entryway of a palace that seemed to stretch endlessly into the heavens. The scene before her was nothing short of breathtaking, but it did little to calm the storm of thoughts raging within her.

Just weeks ago, she had sacrificed herself to end the Wizarding War, stepping into death’s embrace to destroy the final piece of Voldemort’s soul. She had expected to find peace, to perhaps reunite with those she had lost, but instead, she had returned—alive, whole, and more confused than ever. The notion of being immortal had gnawed at her, and she had set out to find the truth.

But this—being pulled to Asgard, meeting Thor, and learning that Loki was her father—was beyond anything she could have imagined.
Thor, towering and regal in his armor, watched her closely, a soft smile on his lips as he saw her taking in the splendor of his home. “Beautiful, isn’t it? Asgard has always been a place of wonder.”

Harry nodded absently, her mind still trying to wrap itself around the enormity of what he had told her as well as the distance that they had just traveled in mere moments. “You said Loki… is my father?” Her voice was quiet, laced with disbelief.

Thor’s smile widened, his eyes gleaming with warmth. “Yes, Hariel. The resemblance is unmistakable, and the magic within you… it is Asgardian. You are my niece, and that makes you a part of this realm, whether you knew it or not.”

Harry turned to face him fully, searching his face for any hint that this might be some elaborate trick or misunderstanding. But Thor’s expression was sincere, his gaze filled with a strange combination of pride and affection. It was hard to believe, and yet, deep down, something in her resonated with his words.

“Why now?” she asked, her voice stronger. “Why didn’t I know before?”

Thor’s expression softened, and he walked over to her, placing a gentle hand on her shoulder. “The circumstances of your birth are… complicated, and not even Loki knew of your existence. But now that you are here, it is time you met him, and learned the truth of who you are.”

Harry took a deep breath, trying to calm the whirlwind of emotions inside her. She had faced dark lords, fought battles that no one her age should ever have to fight, but this—this was different. This was personal in a way that nothing else had ever been.

Thor, sensing her unease, gave her a reassuring smile. “Come, Hariel. I know this is overwhelming, but you have nothing to fear here. You are family, and Asgard welcomes you with open arms.”

As they began to walk through the grand corridors of the palace, Harry couldn’t help but notice the way the Asgardians they passed would glance at her with a mix of curiosity and respect. It was as if they could sense something different about her, something that set her apart even in a place as extraordinary as Asgard.

They walked in companionable silence for a while, until Thor’s booming voice broke the quiet. “So, my niece, tell me about your adventures on Midgard. I’ve heard tales of a great battle, of a dark wizard you vanquished. I’d like to hear it from you.”

Harry hesitated for a moment before nodding. “It’s a long story… but I suppose it started with a prophecy…”

As she recounted her tale, Thor listened intently, his expressions ranging from admiration to sorrow as she described the trials she had faced. He was particularly intrigued by her battles, the way she had outsmarted her enemies, and the sheer determination she had shown in the face of overwhelming odds.

“You are truly remarkable, Hariel,” Thor said with a grin, his eyes shining with pride. “To have faced so much, and yet to stand here with such strength… It is a testament to your spirit, and to the blood that runs in your veins.”

Harry offered him a small smile, though her thoughts were still focused on what lay ahead. The prospect of meeting Loki, of facing the man who was her father, filled her with a nervous anticipation. She had never known her parents, had only the memories of others or photos to hold onto, but now she was about to meet a parent for the first time—a parent who had never known she existed, according to Thor at least.

Finally, they reached a set of grand doors, intricately carved with scenes of Asgard’s history. Thor pushed them open with ease, revealing a vast room bathed in golden light.
The doors to the throne room loomed ahead, massive and intricately carved with depictions of Asgard’s storied past. Thor pushed them open with ease, and Harry felt a wave of magic wash over her as she stepped into the grand hall.

The room was filled with light, the golden hues reflecting off the polished marble floors and towering columns. At the far end, on an elevated dais, sat Odin, the Allfather, with Frigga by his side. To the left stood the Warriors Three—Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun—alongside Lady Sif, each a formidable figure in their own right. But Harry’s gaze was drawn immediately to the figure standing slightly apart from the others—Loki.

Loki’s presence was magnetic, his eyes sharp and calculating as they locked onto hers. Harry could see the flicker of recognition, the shock of realizing who she was. He stood tall and regal, his dark hair falling in soft waves around his face, but there was an air of uncertainty about him, as though he wasn’t sure how to react to the news Thor had brought to the court.

Thor, ever the showman, raised his arms in a grand gesture as he addressed the court. “People of Asgard! I bring before you someone who has long been lost to us—a warrior of Midgard who has achieved great feats, and who now stands among us as family.” He turned to Harry, his smile warm and inviting. “This is Hariel Potter, daughter of Loki, and my niece.”

A murmur ran through the court, expressions ranging from surprise to curiosity. Odin’s one eye seemed to pierce through Harry as he examined her, while Frigga’s face softened into a gentle smile, her eyes filled with understanding.

“Welcome to Asgard, Hariel,” Odin said, his voice carrying the weight of centuries. “It seems you have much to tell us.”

Harry felt a lump form in her throat, the reality of the situation finally sinking in. She was standing in the presence of gods, of beings who had seen more than she could ever comprehend, and they were looking at her as if she were something special. It was a feeling she wasn’t quite sure she knew how to handle.

Before she could respond, Thor clapped a hand on her shoulder, his smile as broad as ever. “Hariel has been through much in her short life, but she has emerged victorious. She ended a war, defeated a dark lord, and has proven herself worthy of the legacy she carries.”

Loki, who had remained silent up until now, finally spoke, his voice smooth and laced with a mixture of curiosity and wariness. “Is it true, then? Are you truly my daughter?”
Harry met his gaze, seeing in his eyes the same uncertainty she felt. “That’s what Thor told me,” she replied, her voice steady. “I didn’t know until now, but… it makes sense.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed slightly, as if he were weighing her words, testing their truth before whatever he saw in her had him opening up to the possibility. His eyes flickered with a multitude of emotions—shock, wonder, regret, and something like hope. Loki’s gaze remained fixed on Harry, his expression a mixture of surprise and something deeper, something that made Harry’s heart skip a beat. Slowly, he approached, his movements graceful yet hesitant, as if he were afraid that she might vanish if he got too close.

When he finally stood before her, the resemblance between them was undeniable—the same sharp features, the same intensity in their eyes. Loki’s expression softened as he looked at her, a small, almost incredulous smile tugging at the corners of his lips. The God of Mischief reached out hesitantly, his fingers barely grazing her cheek, as if still unsure whether this was real.

“You… you look just like your mother,” Loki whispered, his voice thick with emotion. “I never knew… I never imagined…”

Harry swallowed hard, feeling the weight of his words settle deep within her. “I didn’t know either, not until now.”

Thor, sensing the need for privacy but choosing to ignore it, clapped Loki on the back, drawing his attention. “She’s extraordinary, brother. You should hear the tales of her bravery, her battles. She’s every bit a warrior as any in Asgard.”

Loki’s gaze never left Harry’s face, his eyes filled with a mix of pride and something else—something deeper, more personal. “I would like to hear them,” he said softly, his voice steadying as he spoke. “But first… I’d like to know more about you, Hariel. About everything.”

Harry felt a warmth spread through her at his words, a sense of belonging that she had never quite felt before. She wasn’t just the Girl Who Lived anymore. She was Hariel, daughter of Loki, niece of Thor, a part of something far greater than she had ever imagined.

Frigga rose from her seat, her movements graceful as she approached Harry. “You are most welcome here, my dear,” she said warmly, taking Harry’s hands in her own. “You’ve had a difficult journey, but know that you are among family now. You are safe.”

The warmth in Frigga’s words eased some of the tension in Harry’s shoulders, and she nodded gratefully. “Thank you,” she murmured, feeling a sense of relief she hadn’t realized she needed.

The Warriors Three and Lady Sif approached next, each offering their greetings and expressing their curiosity about the battles Harry had fought. Volstagg, ever the jovial one, seemed particularly eager to hear about her exploits, while Fandral’s eyes sparkled with admiration. Hogun was more reserved, but there was a respect in his gaze that made Harry feel like she had already earned a place among them.

Lady Sif regarded her with a mix of curiosity and respect. “It is not often that we hear of such deeds from one so young,” she said, her voice steady and strong. “You must be quite the warrior.”

Harry offered a small smile, still feeling slightly overwhelmed by all the attention. “I’ve had to be,” she replied simply.

Thor, ever the proud uncle, couldn’t help but boast on her behalf. “She is indeed, Sif. You should have seen her in battle—taking on enemies far more powerful than herself and emerging victorious every time.”

As the introductions continued, Harry found herself gradually relaxing, the initial shock giving way to a tentative sense of belonging. These people—these gods—were treating her with a respect and warmth she had never quite experienced before. And though it was all still new and overwhelming, there was a part of her that felt at home in a way she hadn’t expected.

Finally, Odin spoke again, his voice resonating with authority. “Hariel, daughter of Loki, you have faced great challenges and have proven yourself worthy of the blood that runs in your veins. Asgard welcomes you, and we look forward to hearing more of your tales.”

Harry nodded, feeling the weight of his words settle over her. She was no longer just the Girl Who Lived, no longer just the warrior who had ended the Wizarding War. She was Hariel, daughter of Loki, niece of Thor, and a part of Asgard’s legacy.

And as she looked around the grand hall, at the faces of the people who had welcomed her so openly, she realized that her journey was far from over. There were new challenges ahead, new battles to be fought, and a new family to learn about and protect.

But for now, she was content to simply be—Hariel, daughter of two worlds, standing at the threshold of a new chapter in her life. As they began to talk, sharing stories and learning about each other, the golden halls of Asgard seemed to glow just a little brighter, as if welcoming Harry home at last.