A/n: This story makes use of one of the more popular fan theories out there. Of the second interpretation of Sybill Trelawney's prophecy, of how one can only die at the hand of the other.

It takes place in New York slightly after the second Avengers movie. If you've not watched the movie, I apologize if there are any spoilers, I tried to avoid those at least until the second chapter.

The story would revolve around both the relationship between Harry and the Avengers cast, and the growing evils that sought to enter their world. A potential romantic pairing between Harry and Wanda because, it's bloody brillant! A Wizard and a Witch!

Chapter 1: The Scarlet Witch.

Either must die at the hand of the other, for neither can live while the other survives.

What if Sybill Trelawney's prophecy was a little bit more literal? That the only way for either one of them to truly die, was to be by the hand of the other. And by killing Voldemort, Harry Potter made the ultimate sacrifice, as the other no longer lives, he could no longer die.

Immortality, unwillingly bestowed upon him.

What if the boy who lived, lived forever.

ooOoooOoo

Magic, raw and unbridled coursed through his very essence, threatening to tear him asunder. Visions, of past events and futures passed. He saw landscapes and battles, of towering buildings and derelict cottages, of children born and of elders passed. Of laughter and joy, of cries and feeble whimpers, of screams and desperate gasps. He could see, could hear everything in existence. Overwhelmingly so, it blinded him, deafened him, they ripped at his very being, tearing at his humanity, slicing unto the edges of his haunted soul.

He saw the millions that lived before him and millions that would, he saw past families and friends, of enemies and lovers, and in that moment itself, he saw himself. A skinny little boy, feeble in all its definition, whose birth would shake the foundations of the magical world and whose immortality would henceforth reshape it to his will. He saw himself, through his own darkened memories, stretching from his own birth to time beyond his own immortality.

He used his own harnessed magic to shift himself out of actuality, allowing magic to writhe through his broken frame, contorting him to their unrestrained strength. Agony coursed through what remained of him, twisting, warping him through the monstrous maelstrom of power he held within him, churning as they threatened to pry him apart from the inside.

Violent flashes of magic tore overhead, more pure than any conjured. It held no goodwill, yet it was without malevolence, grey magic, as raw and uncurbed as can be. It encased him in a tiny cocoon, condensing with each passing moment, shrinking as his own body constricted, restructured in order to remain. His bones were twisted, his flesh torn, his mouth opened to scream, only to be engulfed by the circling magic.

And as the world around him disintegrated into nothingness, the boy who lived, yet lived. In a tiny magical shell, till the very end of time.

ooOoooOoo

She sat at a corner table by the highly recommended shawarma restaurant, a book in one hand and a cup of coffee in the other. Even though she and her older brother were both invited to the Avengers program only mere weeks ago, things were not as hectic nor as unaccommodating as she once thought. If anything else, the rest of the Avengers were more than welcoming, treating them both not just as equals, but of family as well.

While their core group mostly dealt with the aftermath of Ultron's rampage, mostly on both the cleanups and on the political ends, the two of them were given ample time to explore New York, to adjust to the unfamiliarity of an entirely new continent. Having never left her small town of Sokovia, the new yet unaccustomed sights were truly something to behold.

From the dirtied streets she grew up in, the tiny brick houses they lived in to polished floors and glass buildings as high as the eye could see, it all amazed her. Between walking through its endlessly walkable streets, she found herself spending hours indulging in the many different coffee shops that she had grown to love.

While her brother was a little bit more interested in the New York nightlife and the plenty of entertainment a city like this provided, she found the given time instead permitting her to travel, to study more about the country she would now live in. She read a ton, visibly astounded at her first visit to their library, at how wide their collections, their materials were. She further improved her English as well, though she was already with a strong grasp of that language.

It did not take long for her to notice the change in her older brother, tiny little things that only she as a younger sibling could see, from the way he smiled to the way his eyes shone. He seemed so different from the past, he was almost glowing now, full of radiance. He loved his new life and in return, it made her happy as well, unbelievably so.

Looking at the bustling scenery around her, Wanda Maximoff smiled lightly to herself, perhaps, just perhaps, the Scarlet Witch had a place right here with the Avengers.

oOOoooOOo

Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, once the illustrious epitome of magical education and learning, a majestic castle that sprawled across one of Scotland's many enchanting sites. A castle that overlooked the Black Lake, ran by only the most achieved and prestigious of professors, the school itself was not only renowned for its learning, but also for the might of its Wizards and Witches. It was practically impenetrable.

Yet now, it was nothing but a ruined grave. Collapsed wreckage remained of its once great walls. Dozens of raucous creatures flew by overhead, dragons as they sniffed through the rubble for remaining survivors. They were not likely to succeed in finding anything more than corpses. Hooded men stood by the powerful creatures, holding onto their mounted straps like masters to a pet, their whips at the ready.

A green colored skull reigned chillingly in the clouded skies above them, casting an unnatural green hue over the fallen castle. Centuries passed since the mark of the dark lord was last seen, but it had not lost its bloodcurdling flair. The lakes beneath started to brew into a frenzy, a green mist quickly shrouding across its untouched surface, sending torrential waves upon the other, as the casted curse threatened all life beneath its murky depths.

Life soon ceased to exist within the Black lake, and the ones intelligent enough to escape were quickly dispatched of the moment they left the waters, as flashes of green accompanied the hundreds of falling bodies.

Like shrouded demons guarding the doors to hell itself, a legion of hooded figures stood motionless by the Great Hall's entrance. They took a step back as the armored figure approached, a black tower of fluttering robes that were caught by the breeze created by his own sheer size and stride. His arms were as though they could split even a dragon's skull by themselves.

The figure standing by the rear moved towards the approaching figure, kneeling down in front of him as he spoke from behind a twisted mask, "they are down to one. He locked himself inside of the hall."

The hulking figure barely acknowledge the other as he pushed apart the ivory doors, entering where the Great Hall once stood. His blood red eyes hungrily searched the devastated landscape, "show yourself!" He shouted, his voice a deep boom across the otherwise empty halls, his arms were raised into the air as a challenge, the momentum sending his hood backwards, revealing the face of a scarred warrior.

Darkened hair ran down the back of his neck, as do marked wounds down his face. Some were from older days, others newer, unhealed, fresh. "I have your children," he laughed as he swung his wand in random directions, sending blasts of energy towards where he saw fit, as explosions shook the once famous halls, leaving nothing but destruction in its wake.

"I will kill them. One by one, until you tell me where is Harr-"

He smiled before he finished the sentence, lifting his wand just as a crackling ball of electricity shot towards him. The sphere grew stronger in its path, menacingly as it broke off into a dozen different shards of fatal energy, all converging upon his location. Yet the intruding figure barely moved, a slight flick of his wrists as a force field of sorts erected around him. They absorbed the incoming magic as though they were harmless before diminishing into nothingness.

"You are no longer fighting to disarm," he said as a matter-of-factly, his voice filled with amusement, "you and your kind should have fought to kill from the very start of this war, not with those useless ancient disarming spells."

The hidden attacker did not reply, but instead a flux could be felt in the air, the gathering of magic before the unleashment of a powerful spell. The entire hall rumbled in response, the grounds beneath the two shaking as remaining pillars and monuments fell around them both, as cracks appeared in the walls that still stood, as rocks fell from the ceilings above.

The hulking figure's smile only grew wider. "That's it…" He laughed depravedly, his voice filled with thrill, with excitement unlike one should have in his dire situation. For a moment, the room was stilled. And in the next, the floor exploded. Waves of torrential strength shot forth from the dungeons below, destroying all that stood in its path, splitting away rubble and fallen structures like they were nothing. The vast whirlpool grew in its size, climbing higher towards the unending ceilings, sending chunks of stone and discarded furnitures in all direction.

"Come on!" The taunting man shouted, looking small in comparison to the controlled fury that grew in this room. "

"Do it!"

He heard the murmuring of magical words right as the makeshift ocean tore towards him in tremendous magnitude. Bigger than even the most colossal of Basilisks, the whirlpools shot towards the man, sweeping over everything in its path. The great hall vanished in that instance, engulfed by the growing tide.

The figure roared as it grew closer, merrily so as his wand shot towards the space in front of him. Darkened energy crackled at its base, emerging from the many rings that encased his grip. Each contained the horocrux of a powerful wizard, none willingly so. He forcefully ripped the souls of those he deemed worthy and powerful, trapping them inside rings forged with the bones of the first Dark Lord. It allowed him to draw strength from the fallen Wizards, creating for himself a wand more powerful than anything else imaginable.

The nine rings pulsated in response, each reacting to the first, strengthening the unnatural magic, focusing it onto a single point before a single beam of black shot forth. It sliced through the descending tsunami with a deafening roar, evaporating the entirety of it from the point of impact, reducing the ocean to nothingness as the spell continued forward. It flew in the direction of where he last heard the casted spell and before the darkened bolt impacted against the stone walls, it curved behind the rubble, smashing right into the center mass of the hidden Wizard.

The screaming soon began.

There was a brief shimmer as the caster apparated, a twist in reality before he found himself standing before the fallen figure. A middle aged man, in the midst of consumption by the black ooze attached to his chest. He watched as his former colleague tore at the growing darkness, his nails drawing blood, digging into his own skin in futility.

In some way, he respected the fallen Wizard, a strong opponent worthy of his pity. He knew of the torment that his spell would bring, the ooze that would seek out all forms of moisture. In this case, human blood, absorbing it into more of its own, soon leaving the body drained of red, leaving an empty carcass of nothing but bones wrapped in a black cocoon. It would eat him from the inside out, excruciatingly so.

"Kro… Kronnos…" The man pleaded as the darkness constricted around his neck, squeezing as his pupils started to turn black. "P-Please… Y- You're once a teacher. Wh-" He gasped a final time, his body no longer functioning, his lungs a barren core. His eyes trembled as the blackened tentacles crawled up his face, searching, pleading for mercy.

"Tell me, Professor Lundix," The large figure approached the last surviving Hogwarts professor, "where he is."

"Tell me where Harry Potter is, and I will grant you the sweet mercy of death."

ooOOooOOoo

It was then she realized that she could no longer breathe. The book she once held clattered heavily onto the ground beside her, the coffee spilt as she heavily gasped, her own constricting chest denying her of precious oxygen. She noticed approaching figures, men and women in the same store as she was. Harmless civilians, ones that sought only to help a seemingly choking female. She could see them crowding beside her, but their words appeared hollow, echoing off from a distance as they asked if she was alright.

She saw one reaching out for her, a woman's hand as it lightly patted against her back. And upon contact, her entire body stilled, her eyes widened as she was sucked into a void of indistinguishable memories. Scenes flashed through her mind like photographic images, of a tiny child clamoring at her mother's feet, of a growing teenage girl, of a young woman sobbing alone in a tiny bathroom. The same young female in the delivery room, then she was beside a younger girl, with similar features. She looked so proud, beaming with happiness. The sensation engulfed her with europhia, she could feel the same joy that the woman felt, right before it was ripped violently away from her, replaced by a growing despair. Then suffering, as she watched the little girl's body crumpled lifelessly onto the ground.

Anger, as the drunk driver sped away without care.

It overwhelmed over, as memories and emotions of all the ones that touched her exploded within her mind, engulfing it in an erupting wave. Men, women, young and old. She screamed as she pushed away from the crowd, trying to distance herself away from the booming sensations when suddenly… quietness.

She opened her eyes only to see the entire world at a still, nothing in her vicinity moved. It was dauntingly silent, beyond any she had experienced. She wondered if it was what her brother felt when he moved through the world at super speed, then she realized that she was not moving faster, but that the entire world had stopped.

It was only until she walked out of the café did she realize the magnitude of it all. She stood in the center of New York City's busiest district, and yet nothing moved. Humans were in mid movement, as birds were stuck unmoving in the skies above. Cars were held still in busy roads, as though someone hit pause on a television screen.

She reached out towards the closest person beside her yet before they touched, she was again pulled in another direction, in all directions as she felt her body forcefully warped into another realm.

She landed, her boots pressing into hardened stone. The air was thick with… magic, though she did not know how she knew. Intoxicatingly so. She felt them being drawn towards her, wrapping around her fingertips. She could feel the unseen forces pulling onto her, dragging her away from where she stood. She followed quickly, running as the world shook around her. She climbed across a small hill of sorts and saw two figures standing alone in an opened clearing.

They stood on opposite ends, as waves of energy met in the middle, each casted from the stick-like object they held in their arms. She recognized one of them from her previous visions, the hulking figure… She remembered his name, Kronnos. The other stood impasse, seemingly unafraid of the monster twice his size. He looked almost human, a headful of darkened hair, gentle features, she gauged him as someone in his mid-twenties, around her own age.

Something felt very wrong. She could feel it, the energies in the air were crackling, as though they were being poisoned, dying. One of them shouted, she could see the hulking man waver, as his arm trembled with each passing second. She could see the rings around his wand starting to crack, and as one did, the rest shattered in a blinding light. She felt the explosion consume everything around them, she felt the withering of life, the millions that were lost in the ensuring discharge. She felt the destruction of this world as she screamed from its loss.

Then, there was nothing. Darkened space remained where life was once abundant. She flowed through the desolated cosmos, the emptiness consuming her. She tried to fight the growing darkness, but it was like the professor she watched die. It constricted around her, binding her, suffocating her, it expanded into every orifice, choking, killing. She struggled, clawed desperately at the growing blackness, she thought of her hexes, her abilities, but nothing seemed to appear.

Suddenly, a brief flash of light burned the darkness off her, disintegrating them into fiery ashes as she looked towards her savior. A tiny ball of light, floating in an otherwise empty space. She felt drawn towards it, the warmness it provided contrasting the coldness of space. She floated towards it, the light so tiny she could wrap her palm around it. And as she did, she heard the sounds of traffic, of a busy New York afternoon.

She heard the sound… of a single heartbeat. She pulled towards them all, like a blinded ship guided towards port by a lighthouse in the midst of a powerful storm.

As her fingers clasped around the orb, in that single moment, she felt herself being abruptly pulled through the eons, across hundreds of dimensions before she felt the familiar sensation of warm concrete beneath her palms. She looked up at the blinding noon sky, felt the sweltering New York heat.

She opened her palm, a tiny orb laid in her hand. It wasn't a vision, nor a dream.

What exactly the hell happened?