Dyslexia: Language disability, here be spelling mistakes, missing words, and grammar issues.

Summary: Parallel universe time travel? Natasha Romanoff has done it. Killed lots and lots of people? Done it. Been killed herself? Done it. But meeting Death himself and being introduced to a universe where it isn't alien invasions but baby's who stop dark lords? Now that's a new one. And who is she to refuse when Death hands her an orphan whose being hunted by terrorists? Simply put, she might need little Harry as much as he needs her.

Crossover Disclaimer: Marvel's Black Widow into the Potterverse. Natasha mother figure. The Wizarding World has never met anyone quite like this genetically modified assassin. I own neither.

AN: I know, I know, I have a lot of fics to finish, but until I finish grad school, a month from now, I'm just trying to keep my head above water. So please enjoy the product of my over-stressed muses.

Prologue - When Two Deaths Meet

It started as any cross-dimensional meeting started, with a death. Or in this case the eve of three deaths, and one who thought the destination of souls was more a guideline than a rule.

"I can see it all," the Death with knobbly fingers and a contempt for wizards said.

"Why did they have to discover time travel?" the Death with a scythe and a contempt for Avengers asked. She put a skeletal hand to her hooded temple. "They're giving me a headache."

"Rewriting the future," he growled, "Escaping death." He made a rude sound.

"As if anyone can just play with fate," she agreed.

They each drank from a goblet whose liquid was known as the Kiss of Death that could kill any mortal, semi or otherwise.

"So, what's your latest?"

The Death with the penchant for reaping the souls of aliens sighed, "Nothing much, just people dying before they are supposed to. How about you?"

"These kids keep trying to save their grandparents, but that's only recently. For years I've had a mad man who proclaims himself to be the 'Flight of Death' as if he could ever outrun me."

Death laughed, her voice sultry, "Silly name, sounds more like what I would call a killing spree."

The other Death sighed, "That's what he does mainly. He also got it into his head to kill a baby, which of course, enabled the prophecy he was trying to prevent."

She made a gagging noise, "Why do they believe in those damn prophets? It isn't as if they provide any useful information. No matter what they do, it fulfils the prophecy or it wasn't a 'true' prophecy."

"Humans, always thinking they can play God."

They both drank.

Then Death got an idea, that is the Death who has the most experience with perpetually dying mutants. "What if we tried?"

"Excuse me?"

"What if we meddled? We have the power to do so."

The other Death who dealt primarily with mortals and the odd dragon said, "Because there are rules."

"Rules are made to be broken."

He took another swallow from his drink, "This could go badly."

Death smiled, "Tell me more about this baby?"

Chapter 1 - The Secrets of Death

Some part of Natasha had believed death wouldn't hurt, but of course, it did hurt, because why should death be any different than life?

She landed on her back, on a carpeted floor. She turned her head to see a woman with long red hair, lying beside her.

Her emerald eyes stared right through Natasha, unseeing were the eyes of the dead.

Sitting up, Natasha found that none of the injuries that had killed her remained. All her equipment remained with her but for her technology, such as her coms and her guns. She found that she was in a room on the second floor, where a bomb had apparently gone off.

"Mama?" a small plaintive voice called.

She spun to find a baby in a crib. He must have been a year or so old because he was standing, his green eyes told her that the 'Mama' he was calling to was beyond helping.

"I'm sorry, little one," she said softly, to the child with a fresh lightning bolt scar.

"Take him," a voice said from behind her.

She pivoted to face that voice, blade drawn, "Who the hell are you?"

The figure floated above the hole, seeming to blend into the blackened wood. "I am Death."

"Great, how did I get here?"

"You were brought here for him."

"Why?"

"He has no one, and because you messed with the time stream. Did you think that wouldn't have consequences?"

"This child doesn't need an assassin."

"On the contrary, a Dark Lord seeks his death."

She felt the child reach for her braid, and call again, "Mama?"

Natasha looked down at the woman on the floor, "What if I say no?"

"Then the child will be given to people who will lock him in a closet, near starve him, and work him as a servant. He will be murdered before he graduates from school."

"And you think I can prevent this?" she asked.

Death said nothing.

Natasha turned to the child, who reached both arms upward to be picked up.

Someone downstairs ran into the house shouting, "James! James! Oh, Merlin, no, James… Lily! Lily are you here!? Harry! Harry?"

Natasha jolted when she felt the wraith whispered in her ear, "I would run if I were you."

Death's breath smelled like the wintry winds on the top of mountain peaks.

The child, who she assumed must be 'Harry' wrapped his arms around her neck as she reached for him. In that moment, that little boy laid claim to Natasha's heart.

She was out the window with the baby and escaping down the street before the man reached the top step.

Death and Death floated shoulder to shoulder watching the spec that was Natasha Romanoff with baby Harry Potter disappear into the night.

They chatted idly, invisible to mortal gaze, as Sirius Black barged into the room, falling to his knees beside the body of Lily Potter.

"No, Lily," he murmured, staggering to his feet, he pulled himself up to look into the crib, the empty crib.

"Harry!?" He shouted, panic clear in his voice, "Harry!"

"Perhaps, we changed too much," Death said out of mortal hearing.

"Or not enough," the other Death said, shouldering her scythe, then brought her hands together in one resounding clap.

Lily Potter took in a gasping breath, sitting up and coughing.

Sirius Black nearly jumped out of his skin. "Lily!?" he exclaimed, "Lily? You're alive, but you…"

Death turned to his alternate universe counterpart, "That wasn't a part of the plan!"

The woman shook her head, her orange flame hair spilling over her shoulders, "Harry…" she said thickly, "Where's Harry?"

Sirius shook his head, "He's not here, Lils." He held out his hand to help her to feet.

Heavy footfalls thundered up the steps.

"James!?" Sirius cried out in disbelief.

Death turned to his scythed friend, "What do you think you're doing?"

James Potter embraced his wife, and asked, "Where's Harry?"

Death smiled. "Playing God," she said wickedly.

Natasha found this world was not hers, beyond going back in time to the eighties, no one she knew existed. Months had passed and she hadn't found anything of the people she had once known. The major event seemed to hold, like the great wars, but it was all slightly off, slightly different.

Steve Rodger and the Starks, did not exist.

So she had decided that the name Natalia belonged to her birth world, belonged to Clint and his children who called her Auntie Nat. Natasha Alianovna Romanoff, and since she didn't know Harry's middle name or surname, she gave him hers, Harry Nathaniel Romanoff.

"Mama!" Harry demanded from his highchair.

Natasha shook off her thoughts, and opened the applesauce, "Say please," she chided.

"Peasseeeeeeee," the toddler dragged out.

She sat in the chair beside him, placing the cup down on the table. He reached for the spoon with his small hand, and she gave him an expected look.

"Tank you," he said, and she handed him the soft-edged spoon.

"You're welcome," she said, kissing his temple.

She had never thought she would be good at this but… Harry was pretty good at telling her what he wanted, when he was hungry he asked for food, when he was sleepy he slept, when he wanted to play he would tug on her hand and ask, "Magi?"

She was still trying to figure out what 'Magi' meant, so far she had interpreted it as sock puppets, toy cars, and blocks. This seemed to appease him, though she always had this suspicion that she was disappointing him.

"Mama?" Harry asked, "Why you sad?"

She smiled at him, "I'm not sad, Harry, I have you."

He smiled at her and repeated, "I have you."

A part of her sighed at his cuteness, with his dark raven hair and big green eyes he would be a knock out when he was older.

Which worked in her favour because though they looked nothing alike but for the paleness of their skin and their green eyes, people still tended to believe that beautiful people were related to one another.

She sighed, they had lived in this apartment for awhile now and she was growing restless. This wasn't a home, this was a disguise. Perhaps she should save up and go find a country home, maybe move back to the United States. But a large part of her wanted to return to Russia. She wouldn't risk it, of course, but as none of the people she had known existed in this world, perhaps she hadn't either. Perhaps the KGB didn't have her on their radar.

What would it be like to be just another citizen? Even a tourist? To walk the city streets talking in her mother tongue in full view of cameras and not worry?

Harry finished his applesauce and asked, "More?" pause. "Pease?"

Just then she heard people approaching their apartment door.

She had Harry out of his height chair before he could say another word, "Can you be quiet for me, Harry?" she asked, holding a finger to her lips.

He held his finger to his lips and said, "Shhhhhh."

Yeah, babies weren't the best at secret agent work.

The door banged open with a flash of light.

What the hell?

She put Harry in the bathtub, knowing there wasn't enough time to run. Making one last sign to be quiet, she shut the door, and re-entered the main room to greet their 'guests.'

Three cloaked figures stood in the room, the two men wore masks, the crazy-eyed woman did not.

"Where's lil-Potty?" the woman crooned.

Natasha cocked her hip, "Black cloaks and masks," she taunted, ignoring the woman's question, "Are you terrorists or going to a Halloween rave?"

The woman smiled, "Oh, my dear putrid muggle, you will beg for death."

Natasha smiled back, "You think so?"

"Enough of this," one of the others said, and pointed a stick at her, "Avada Kedavra."

Natasha rolled out of the way of a green streak that missed her, and yet, did no damage to the floor.

Looks like I've found the aliens.

Grabbing a chair, Natasha wielded it like a baseball bat, running at the intruders. She hit the woman first, who went down with a shriek, then Natasha jerked the chair up and hit the man who had attacked with the stick. He grunted falling to the ground with an oomph.

They went down easy, she thought. Human it is then.

Standing on the chair whose legs rested on the woman's abdomen, she kicked the second masked man in the head with a roundhouse. There was that sharp crack of bone breaking, and he dropped like a rock.

"Don't you people have any training?" she asked, almost certain she had broken the man's neck, she hadn't felt any resistance from the muscle that protected most thugs from dropping from a single blow.

"Avada Ka-"

Natasha kicked the stick out of the shorter man's hand.

He pulled up his mask, revealing himself to just be a young kid, "Please, lady, I don't want to die."

She jabbed him in the face with the heel of her palm, and this time he stayed down.

Knocking the chair off the woman, Natasha grabbed her by her collar, "Who are you? And what do you want with my son?"

The woman looked at her like a bird of prey and said in a sing-song voice, "You killed my husband, you killed my husband."

Natasha slammed the crazy woman against the wall, "Who are you?"

She smiled, even as blood coloured her mouth, "Bellatrix Lestrange," then paused and whispered in a low voice, "Bellatrix Black."

In a swift motion, Natasha caught the woman's rising hand and snapped her wrist. She caught the stick before it fell and put it in her back pocket. The woman screamed but it pittered off into a laugh.

God, she needed to get a gun.

The woman laughed again.

"What are you?" Natasha asked.

The woman's laughter continued, high and cackling, then said in a foreboding tone, "A witch."

Natasha caught the look she shot behind her, and without thinking, pulled the stick from her back pocket and said the magic words.

"Avada Kedavra."

A cloaked form that had been coming up the stairs fell backwards when the streak of green light hit him, his lifeless body tumbling down the stairs.

A tingling sensation went through Natasha's body.

When she turned back to 'Bellatrix Black' her brown hooded eyes had gone wide.

Natasha jabbed the stick against her throat, "Tell me what you want from Harry."

"His death," Bellatrix said absently.

"Why?" Natasha ground out, twisting Bellatrix's arm until it was at the verge of popping out of its socket. "Why do you want him dead?" she repeated.

She shook her head, her dark hair tumbling around her, "I serve the Dark Lord, and he will return. I will not betray my Master."

Inpatient, Natasha used the side of her hand to drop the woman.

Repocketing the magical gun that could kill people without damaging objects or making sound, just creating a charge of green light, she went back to the bathroom to get Harry.

Their bags were already packed, and she thanked herself for that particular habit. Resting Harry on the bed, she pulled on her backpack, and shouldered Harry's bag. Grabbing his stroller on her way out the door, Harry asked as Natasha stepped over the downed bodies, "Who dat?"

"Witches, apparently," Natasha answered, "Now how would you like to go to Gothenburg for a few weeks? I hear it's lovely this time of year."

The toddler nodded seriously and spent the next ten minutes trying to pronounce the word 'lovely' correctly.

Natasha admitted to herself that not only could she not have a normal life, neither could Harry. She would teach Harry all she knew so he could protect himself, and she would keep them moving, never in the same place for too long.

No one would be able to find them again. No one.

AN: And that is my latest concerned bunny. Comments, thoughts, reactions, and hopes, please?