Chapter Text
He had never seen anything like her, her mass of wild black hair and sharp green eyes. She appeared young but the look in her eyes told him she had seen much in her lifetime.
They called her Death.
He wasn’t quite sure what that meant. What she the personification of death? Was she a messenger? Alternatively, was she something more?
Loki was right terrified of her and Thor looked at her with something more than respect. He treated all the avengers as equals, but her—he gazed at her with something that was a mixture of anxiety, fear and reverence. It was almost as if he didn’t know what to do with himself in her presence. This would be fitting of course, if she were Death. However, there wasn’t anything that absolutely confirmed her identity either. She certainly hadn’t.
She had introduced herself as Harry Potter and she decidedly looked annoyed.
“Let me get this straight,” she paced around the room restlessly, stopping only to glare at Fury. “You summoned me from my own universe for what? To drag me into your own war and make me a pawn of your game in the name of the greater good?” At this, she paused staring at the ground with nothing but contempt in her eyes. “Not only that, you then proceed to tell me that you might not even be able to send me back.” Her eyes flared something otherworldly. The room trembled under her power.
“Lady Death,” Thor started in a calming tone. She whipped her head around to give Thor an unimpressed look. Thor back peddled and held his hands up defensively. “My father and the other guardians of Asgard may be able to aid you in your quest for home.”
Death sighed and tucked a strand of that unruly hair of hers behind her ear.
“Thank you,” she said and then probably more to herself then rest, “My family is probably worried. Ron and Hermione are going to kill me.”
He wanted to laugh. Someone kill the avatar of Death? How dreadfully ironic.
“However, you’ve all made me curious,” Harry surveyed the room with a cautious eye. “What exactly did you hope to accomplish by summoning Death’s master?"
Ah, there it was. Funny how hearing it from her did not make it any less frightening.
Fury looked annoyed.
“‘Hope to accomplish,’ she says,” Fury snorted. “We summoned you because we thought you could make a difference. Even the odds.”
Harry chuckled. “Against who? You have a Norse god, a super solider, the jolly green giant, a man in robotics—the list goes on. Point is—why do you need me to fight for you? I’ve done my part, fought my own battles. I have no need for yours.”
“Even if the fate of the world is on the line?” Fury’s expression hardened.
Harry’s eyes flashed. “You seem to forget one small detail. This is your world not mine.”
The Captain shook his head, determined and disapproving. “That shouldn’t matter. If you have the power to save lives, you should.”
He watched as the girl’s shoulders slumped in what looked like defeat. “No. I’m sorry. It’s as I said—I’m done. There is peace in my world—a hard earned peace that did not come without price. This, whatever it this is, is not my problem. You shouldn’t have summoned me.”
This girl—Death, was not what he expected. She was not hungry for destruction nor was she a true pacifist. He didn’t know how to place her.
However, Fury was having none of that. “Well we can’t just have you roaming the streets. You are an Omega Threat—we knew that when we summoned you. We do not take that kind of threat too lightly. If you are not willing to help humanity, we have to assume the worst. I’m sorry, but you’ll have to be taken in for containment.”
Omega level—shit. He had never met anyone above Alpha level.
He suppressed a shudder as the tension in the room rose and the lights started to flicker. He swore he could actually feel the anger that was coming off her in waves. Was she some sort of psychic mutant like Xavier? The air around the girl seemed charged with what—he didn’t know. He could hardly explain it…it was like magic.
“I will not be caged like some sort of animal.” She snapped her fingers and a smooth pale piece of wood appeared in her hands.
“Don’t!” someone yelled.
“Disarm her!” Fury swore.
Suddenly those around him took fire as she waved the wooden stick in her hand experimentally. With a flick of her wrist, she disappeared. Bullets fell limply to the ground where she once stood. They hadn’t even touched her.
Fury looked around. “Well?” he snapped. “Find someone to track her.”