Hello, and welcome to I May Fall. SO, a few things I wanted to clear up before we begin. Firstly, while this may be in the Avengers/Harry Potter crossover fic, it will also be including several other stories and their canons. This story was, in fact, inspired by another story, Child of the Storm, and I will be trying to do something similar to that, albeit with my own personal twists. If you haven't read said story, the basics are that I will be attempting something wildly different from my usual works in that I won't simply be creating a specific plot with a specific story and goal to work towards. Instead, I will essentially be crafting a universe, in which anything and everything could happen and the heroes face threats on a daily basis. There will be no happily ever after, no resting on their laurels. It is a daily war against the forces of evil, and there is no end to the threats against the world.

Secondly, this fic is, unlike its inspiration, set on the basis of a female Harry-Hariel, to be exact- who is the daughter of Loki. The details are in the story, but you should probably understand that before reading.

Thirdly, well... emjoy, I guess. This is going to be a massive undedrtaking for me, one I don't know if I will be able to complete. As many of you who read my other works will know, I have a bit of difficulty sticking with certain ideas to their fruition, so I will need the help of each and every one of you to help me continue this. One of the main ways you can do that is by leaving reviews, and I don't mean just "good job" or "Keep up the good work." My imagination thrives on conversation and discussion over ideas and the story, so please, offer your thoughts, you concerns, anything and everything that might push me to write more and more. Otherwise, I hope you all enjoyed this offering of mine, and I will look forward to seeing your responses. Take care.

XXX

Stories of heroes can take many forms. THe innocent, neighborhood hero, who saves a kitten from the tree it has climbed, unwittingly trapping itself. Then there are those with great destinies, an epic battle to push the darkness back into its holes, its nooks and crannies in the shadowed corners of the universe. After, they celebrate, laugh, and move on with their lives, content in the knowledge that they have won, that the day is saved, and they can live happily ever after. But there is another kind of hero, I have found, one who puts all others to shame. These are not the men and women who triumph, who break the darkness's back and move on with their lives. Instead, they stand in evil's path, day by day, a bastion of eternal defense in the never ending war for survival. They suffer, they live and they laugh, and time and again they are called to battle. Time and again, they answer. In shadow and in light, in glory and in anonymity, they guard the weak, defend the helpless, and shed blood till it flows in great rivers, crimson and raging. These, I believe, are the true heroes. These, are the world's mightiest. And this, scribed by one who has stood and fought beside them, is their story.

XXX

Hariel Potter was not having a good day. she wasn't having a good year at all, really. From giant fire-breathing dragons trying to eat her, to braving the Black Lake and all its dangers, to a sentient maze bent on devouring her whole and the creatures patrolling its dark paths, the Triwizard Tournament had been nothing more than one giant clusterfuck, determined to break her will and body both. She had endured, however as she always did, with her wand, her guts, and just a hint of insanity.

Now, she wasn't determined, she wasn't enduring. As she watched, from her vantage point atop Tom Riddle Senior's grave, the traitorous rat's hand falling into the iron pot with an almost innocent plop, a wave of agony and fire swept through her, boiling blood and charring bone, and she screamed.

XXX

There was a loud crack as porcelain met steel floor, and the heads of several Avengers shot up to stare at their newest member. He paid them no mind, however, staring himself at the shattered remains of his coffee cup.

"Loki?" Thor's voice, surprised, snapped the dark-haired asgardian's attention to him, green eyes sharp with a similar emotion. "Are you well, Brother?" There was a moment of silence as Loki glanced down to the pile of porcelain, only the tiniest shift of his mouth showing that the slip had been anything but purposeful.

"I… thought I heard a scream." came the reply, quiet and thoughtful, bringing a much more noticeable frown to Thor's own face.

"There was no scream, brother," He said, and even as Loki shook his head as if to push away some unwanted thought, their audience finally turned away. In the months since Loki's return from Asgard, mind freed of whatever dark influence had tainted it, they had learned it was best to leave these things to Thor. It was none of their business, and they had all suffered similar occurrences. They were used to it by now. Loki wasn't the only one haunted by his past, after all.

Finally the tension broke between the two siblings, undiminished by the ignorance of their teammates, as Loki gave his head a final shake, offering a somewhat sad smile to his brother. "Never mind. It must have been nothing."

XXX

Hariel-or Harry, as she was known to her friends- smiled slightly when the Raven landed beside her, cawing quietly to announce its presence. Such a gesture was unneeded of course, the nigh-on-fifteen year old girl having learned easily in the past few weeks to recognize it, and even spot a few of its hiding places. This didn't stop her from happily reaching out a hand and petting its feathers, earning a semi-baleful glare and ruffling of wings, a reaction that always made her laugh.

Some might find the scene strange, a young girl petting and laughing at a bird, not to mention the creature's allowance of such actions, but Harry had been witness to far stranger things in the last four years, primarily during her attendance of the Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. An intelligent raven was little more than a curiosity in her world, and so when it had shown up just a few days after summer began, she barely batted an eyelid. Even as it continued to follow her around, sometimes in plain view and sometimes from the shadows, she paid it little attention, until the incident which had brought them into direct contact.

The day, almost exactly after a week after her Raven first appeared, hadn't been anything special. Really, the only thing which had marked it out was that it was the first day Dudley, her whale of a cousin, had decided to start any of his usual business that summer. She supposed it could be marked as somewhat of a record; Normally the games of 'Harry Hunting' and insults appeared within the first few days of summer. She had just begun to think it might perhaps be a sign that the bastard was growing up some, but evidently, he had merely been too distracted stuffing his face with food to notice her return. Or at least, that's what Harry was assuming he had been doing. Merlin knows it couldn't have been any sort of actual productive activity.

Regardless of the circumstances, however, Dudley had seen fit to gather a few of his friends and corner Hariel down a dead-end alley. Before the fat boy could throw the first punch, however, Harry's raven appeared out of nowhere, flying into Dudley's face and beating at his head with its wings. This, of course, while not overly threatening or harmful, sent the coward running and crying, yelling at the top of his lungs about how the freak had a demon bird to protect her.

Harry smiled at the memory. Her Raven had been careful not to leave any marks, so Dudley was left with no proof to his claims. Even Petunia, always ready to blame her for any sort of freakishness, found it hard to believe that Hariel would be capable of setting a bird on Dudley. Or perhaps it was more a belief that nothing could possibly want to protect a freakish little monster such as her. Either way, Hariel was glad to escape punishment.

"Oy, freak!" Harry glanced up suddenly from the swing she was sitting in, grimacing as she saw Dudley approaching. He was surrounded by members of the his gang, and a shard of fear shot through her as she noticed their cruel smiles and popping knuckles. This would not end well.

"What is it, Dudley?" The ravenette asked, rising from her seat slightly. Out of the corner of her eye, she noticed the bird fly away, taking up position in a nearby tree. Her attention was drawn from it, however, as Dudley moved into her personal space, forcing the smaller girl to take a step back. Her eyes were wary as they flicked from side to side, widening minutely when the goons started to slowly surround them. What was this?

"I just thought I'd come say hi, cousin," said Dudley, and Hariel frowned at his patronizing tone. "You looked lonely." Harry's leaf green eyes hardened when the boys laughed, as if their leader had just made some great joke. The idiot was angling for something, she could tell. The only question was, what?

"I'm fine, Dudley. We both know you don't give a damn about me." she relied, tone sharp and cold. She started to turn, intent on walking away so she wouldn't have to deal with this mess, but she had barely moved before she felt something scrape against her ass, making her jump in surprise.

"Aww, don't worry, baby, we just wanna keep you company." Hariel froze , true fear spiking into her veins as several of Dudley's friends leered at her, while their leader watched with a smug smile.

"Shove off, you smarmy gits," She growled, before dodging another swipe. From afar, she heard a loud caw, piercing and angry, but the raven-haired girl barely noticed, her attention too focused on trying to slap the wandering hands away.

"Don't worry, they'll be gentle." Said Dudley, and Harry's leaf-green eyes snapped to his. "Better than Cedric, I'll bet." Hariel stilled as the name slipped off her cousin's tongue, so blaise and disrespectful. When the next swipe came, she didn't even react, and the owner of the hand laughed as he gave her ass a firm squeeze. For just a second, Dudley joined in, mirth in his eyes as he threw back his head, thinking he had won, that Harry had given up. He was wrong.

The next instant, DUdley's head snapped back down, expression morphing into one of terror as he felt the thin stick of wood that had appeared in Harry's hand pressing into his throat. His dull brown eyes widened with fear, and Hariel felt a surge of satisfaction break through the burning anger consuming her. "Where did you hear that name?" The question was quiet, her voice cool and calm as she asked, but it carried a sharp edge that instantly quieted the riotous laughter around them. For a moment, Harry felt the world contract, until it was just her and Dudley, her cousin's goons retreating a step back unconsciously. Their leader had warned them abo0ut her 'stick', as he called it, a tool for her utter freakishness. Most had been sceptical at the time, but after that freak bird attack… scepticism had turned into quite understandable caution.

"Nuh-nuh-nowhere." Dudley managed to stutter out, and Harry smirked as she watched him go cross-eyed trying to look at her wand. On impulse, she gave a little jab, not enough to to damage but it certainly got Dudley's attention as the tip poked into his throat.

"You're lying," She said, eyes narrowed. "I don't like liars." Dudley gulped finally, his eyes rising slowly to meet Hariel's, and she exulted in the fear she saw there. On any other day,. With any other person, the girl might have felt a little bit guilty about causing such an emotion, she thought. In fact, she had spent a great deal of the last few years trying not to scare the people around her. But these last few weeks, returning to the Dursley's to suffer once again under the yoke of their oppression. Something in Harry had changed. An anger, slowly smoldering, had been building up inside of her, stoked both by the lack of news from her friends and by her treatment at the hands of Dudley and his ilk. Something had awoken inside Hariel this summer, and now, that anger exploded, righteous fury rolling off her in a wave of pure magic.

Dudley's entire gang were thrown backwards suddenly, skidding along the hard ground for a good ten meters outwards, leaving only Harry and their leader standing, the latter still held at wand point. She grinned then, a wicked thing that loosened its target's bowels and set his legs shaking, and drew back, the words of a rather nasty curse on the edge of her tongue. She didn't particularly care about the statute of secrecy at that moment. If anything, she felt it perfectly within her rights to defend herself, and the Ministry be damned. What little of her brain was left functioning normally had already half-formulated plans to find Sirius if such proved necessary, and join him in hiding.

Before Hariel could deliver her curse however, she stopped, as a wave of cold struck her. The anger was washed away in an instant, replaced by bone-chilling fear. She knew that cold, that wet, clammy feeling and the edge of despair worming its way into her mind. She looked up into the sky, forgetting for a moment the boy in front of her, and her eyes widened when she saw the tell-tale clouds forming, and night falling far quicker than it naturally should. Oh shit.

"Run." The word slipped out, quiet and fearful, and Hariel focused back on her cousin, who was staring at her with wide, terrified eyes. "Run!" She said again, this time a shout, and thankfully it was enough. Dudley turned and fled without a second thought, Harry following right behind, only pausing to throw a glance at the goons still groaning on the ground. She pushed them out of her mind, however; More than likely, the dementors were after her, and none of them appeared to injured to make a break for it if necessary.

By the time they reached the underground tunnel, Dudley was heaving and huffing, clearly out of breath. Hariel, surprisingly, was not. In fact, she felt far better than she should, a strange warmth in her chest warding off the usual chill that accompanied a dementor's presence, and a thrumming energy coursing through her entire body, leaving the girl practically bouncing on her feet. It didn't stop the dread, however, and she came to a cold freeze as they entered the tunnel, terror flooding her at the sight awaiting them.

"Wait, stop!" She cried, hand shooting out in an effort to grab dudley's arm, but it was a vain attempt. The much larger boy shrugged off her warding hand, continuing to move forward. Hariel could only watch helplessly as the wraiths, waiting for them with their long black cloaks billowing behind, turned to face Dudley. There were two of them, a small part of her mind noted, only two. She had faced far worse. That didn't help dudley though, and before she could react, one of the monstrous creatures shot forward, a single clammy hand grasping his throat and shoving him into the wall.

Hariel's wand slid out of her sleeve and into her hand, but before she could move to save Dudley, the other dementor moved, flying with unholy speed to intercept.

"Expecto Patronum!" Harry reacted on instinct, throwing her magic into the spell that had become easy as breathing to her. The familiar white stag, proud and majestic, appeared in an instant, catching the dementor on its horns. It bucked, throwing the monster down the tunnel where it released an unearthly screech. Harry paid it little attention, however, turning her attention-and the patronus- towards the demon that held her cousin in its grasp. She cared little for Dudley, sure, but he was still an innocent in the loosest terms, and he didn't exactly deserve to have his very soul devoured by a creature like the dementor. So, with just the barest hint of reluctance, The stag crashed into the dementor, throwing it away and allowing Dudley to drop to the floor like a sack of bones.

Hariel surveyed the scene as her patronus returned to her side, snorting two dementors, surprisingly, hadn't run. Instead they hovered at just outside the range of her patronus, seeming almost to glare at she could think of a way to get rid of them, however, she heard a flap of wings, and turning her head to the side slightly, saw a dark form go shooting past her shoulder. Her jaw dropped as she watched the raven, her raven, land in front of her, cawing in anger at the dementors. Harry took a step forward, determined to rescue the idiotic bird before the dementors swatted it aside like nothing more than an irritating fly, but then stopped, eyes widening in shock.

Smoother than even Sirius's transformations, the raven grew turning from bird to man in the blink of an eye. He was handsome, Hariel couldn't stop herself from thinking, with sharp, aristocratic features and piercing green eyes just a few shades darker than her own. His hair, as well, was black like hers, though far neater, once again aristocratically composed. He seemed vaguely familiar, she thought, as the man stepped forward, a vicious fire burning in his eyes. That thought was pushed aside, however, as her jaw dropped at his next action.

With a silent gesture, There was a pulse of power, stronger than almost any Hariel had felt before, and the dementors were sent careening down the tunnel, screeching as they went. They crashed into the far wall, the force of the impact shaking the earth around them. Hariel opened her mouth to say something, perhaps even a warning to be careful, but the words died in her throat as the man's hands, outstretched from the spell, twisted, and the wraiths came flying back, before halting directly in front of him. A savage grin twisted his lips them, predatory and dangerous, and he snapped his was a flash of light, Hariel's eyes snapping closed to protect them, and by the time she opened them again, the dementors were ravenette shivered as the remnants of that last spell washed over her. Holy shit. She hadn't even known dementors could be destroyed. Whoever this man was, he was dangerous. Very dangerous.

As Hariel struggled to comprehend what she had just seen, the man in question turned, green eyes narrowing on her. Surprisingly, however, they were no longer angry; in fact, she would even say they carried an edge of concern, something supported by the frown that had claimed his face. He took a few steps forward, until he was right in front of her, and in a movement that seemed almost unconscious, his hand reached up to touch her cheek. Hariel, still in shock from what she had just seen and extremely wary of the power this man held, just barely managed to hold back a flinch. What the hell?

"Who are you?" the question fell past her lips unbidden, and the man paused mid-stroke, the sudden tenderness that had appeared in his eyes turning to surprise. A second later, it shifted again, this time into thoughtfulness, and the hand dropped as he shifted backwards a step. His head tilted, a questioning expression on his face as he regarded her for a second, before it smoothed out, the hint of a smile tugging at his lips.

"I am your father."

XXX

Hariel stared at the man in front of her, struggling to comprehend the words he had just spoken. Her father? What in the name of Morgana's tits was he talking about?

"You're joking." She said, the only real words that came to mind. She almost regretted them, when she saw a flash of anger cross the man's face, but it disappeared a second later, replaced by dry amusement.

"I assure you, I am not." Harry's brow furrowed as he replied, a tiny part of her marveling at the soft silkiness of his voice. The other, much larger part, however, was in turmoil, confusion waging war with surprise and anger.

"My father's dead." She said, leaf-green eyes suddenly narrowing as they met the man's emerald. A wave of annoyance swept over her as the hint of a smile he had been wearing stretched, becoming much more solid.

"James Potter, the man you thought was your father is, yes. You have been misinformed, however." The words struck Hariel like a tidal wave, setting her rocking back on her heels. Dear Morgana, he was serious. Before she could say anything else, however, the man looked away, eyes flickering over Dudley in the corner and the spot where the dementors had once been. "I shall explain later, however. We must leave before any more of those… creatures, come. Take my hand, I shall take you somewhere safe."He spoke with such confidence, Harry almost actually listened, her hand rising unconsciously for a second before she noticed and stilled. She opened her mouth to say no, but then stopped, hesitating. He did have a point, regardless of whether the man was batshit insane. Dementors, in Hariel's experience, traveled in packs. Where there was one or two, there was always more. And as much as she would like to write this man claiming to be her father off as crazy, he had enough power to actually destroy a dementor. Perhaps it would be safer for the moment to stay with him. There was something else, however.

"What about Dudley? We can't just leave him here." At her question, the man threw another glance over the boy, who was still moaning in the corner, disgust evident in his expression. Another look at Harry, however, revealed only determination, and finally he sighed.

'Very well." He snapped his fingers, and once again Harry's jaw dropped as her cousin disappeared, leaving only the displaced dust in his wake. "The boy has been returned to his home, perfectly safe. He will not be in the best of shape, but will recover, eventually. May we leave now?"Hariel smiled at the hint of exasperation spilling into the man's tone. It sounded almost familiar, like she herself would sound when trying to drag Ron or Hermione from the table or library, respectively, and she couldn't help the small laugh that escaped her when she saw his expression.

"I suppose." She said, after a cursory glance over the tunnel to fortify herself. Perhaps Hermione did have a point; she always said Hariel was far too reckless for her own good. What could possibly be more reckless than running away with a strange man who claimed to be your father?

The man smiled as he took her hand, a real, true smile, and Harry found herself gasping at the sight of it. Truly, he was a different man in that moment. During the short time she had known him, excluding the period where she thought him nothing more than an intelligent raven, there had been an edge to him, a sort of quiet power in his every word or action that screamed 'Dangerous'. With his smile, however, that edge was washed away, replaced with a sparkle in his emerald eyes and the slightest softening in the angles of his face. The actual difference wasn't all that much, but the effect was immense, and Hariel found herself wondering just how often he smiled like that.

Harry found herself forgetting all about smiles an instant later when the man snapped his fingers. For an instant, the young woman felt like she was floating, the very earth pulled out from under as hung weightless in the air. Then, like a train slamming into a brick wall, reality came rushing back, and she stumbled, falling to her hands and knees. Harry shook her head, fighting to regain her bearings. Only when she had did she realize that the ground underneath her was not the dirty earth, as it had been mere moments before, but cracked concrete, sun-beaten and thought kicked in all her other senses, and once again Hariel's senses were swimming as she was assaulted by the sounds and smells of a bustling city.

"Careful. The first time can be somewhat disorienting." She looked up to see the man, green eyes filled with mirth, watching her as she struggled to stand, an offered hand waiting before her. For a second, she was tempted to deny the help, pride warring with sensibility, but finally she took it, allowing him to pull her up with surprising strength for his slim wobbled a bit at first, but it only took a moment before she was feeling at ease once again, and another before she was perfectly steady on her feet.

"Let's… not do that again, yeah?" She said, offering a wry smile at the man's answering chuckle.

"Do not worry. It gets easier with time and practice."Hariel nodded, though she silently doubted. Right, because getting ripped out of reality and then shoved back in is ever easy. At least, that was what she assumed happened. It certainly felt that way at least.

"So, where are we, exactly?" She asked, pushing her musings on their method of travel aside as she glanced around. It seemed to be a city of some sort, with lots of skyscrapers and fancy building…

"New York City." Not to far from the Avenger's tower, our eventual destination." Harry's eyes flicked to the man, wide with surprise, but he seemed perfectly nonchalant about going to see some of the most famous people in the world.

"Why?' She asked, blushing slightly when the question came out as a high-pitched squeak. The blush became even more pronounced as he turned to look at her, eyes dancing with amusement.

"I live there." He said simply, before chuckling when her jaw hit the floor for what was probably the millionth time in ten minutes. Then, without warning, it suddenly snapped up, and her eyes narrowed, before Harry took a step closer, invading his personal space. She studied him for a second, before lurching back, eyes wide with shock.

"You're fucking Loki!" She shouted, scrabbling backwards until she was pressed up against the the brick wall of the alley they were currently in. Loki, for it was certainly him, winced as a few passersby noticed the shout, looking up to gaze at them swiftly, he grabbed Hariel's arm and pulled her deeper into the alley, casting a minor illusion to direct attention away from them.

"I would appreciate it, if you didn't go yelling my name like that." He hissed into her ear, before releasing his grip. She stumbled away, spinning to face him with wide eyes and her wand in her hand.

"I'm sorry," She spat, rage and defiance shining in her eyes as she faced him. "It's not every day a super villain shows up claiming to be your dad." She glared at him, her blood boiling in anger. When she met his eyes, however, that anger froze. The emerald depths were clouded with pain, a sorrow so deep it took her breath away. Slowly, the death-grip she had on her wand loosened, and for just a moment, Harry found herself wanting to hug the man.

"You are right." He breathed, his voice little more than a whisper, but still Harry heard it. "I committed many crimes in my madness, and there is a great deal of blood on my hands." He looked down at said hands, closing his eyes for a second as Harry watched the pain and regret sweep over his face. Her throat went dry. This.. this was not what she was expecting. Before she could say anything, however, his eyes suddenly snapped open, and their focus sharpened as they met Harry's, a desperate fire burning within. "But I am trying to make up for my past mistakes. I am trying to atone. So please, just… give me a chance. That is all I ask." Hariel drew in a harsh breath as his words hit her, and the true scope of their meaning. He meant more than just the destruction caused by the battle of New York, which he instigated. Loki, the prince of lies, was asking her to trust him, trust his claim that she was her father. And looking at him now, searching his eyes and through them into his very soul, Harry could find nothing to suggest that it was a lie. Loki truly believed he was her father, as insane as the thought might be. Carefully, she released the breath she had been holding, then gave him a silent, solemn nod.

"Alright. I'll trust you."

XXX

As they walked through the bustling city of New York, Loki found himself in a rather unprecedented situation for him; Namely, he was incredibly, mind-shatteringly nervous. If he had been told a mere month ago that one day he would be walking side-by-side with his daughter, his actual, flesh and blood daughter, he would have laughed, and then promptly passed them onto the not-so-tender mercies of the asgardian healers who had already worked a miracle in rescuing his own mind from the madness of Thanos. Now, however…

Loki's eyes flicked to his side, a rush of anticipation and surprise warming him just as it had the first time he laid eyes on Hariel Potter. Leaf-green eyes, bright and vibrant as a living flame, were wide as they took in the city around them, just like her mother's. Lily Potter, the only mortal woman to catch Loki's eye in over a century, had been utterly and unequivocally beautiful, and the same could easily be said of her daughter. Lily's high, arched features, reminiscent of the ancient fey, melded perfectly with Loki's own classically aristocratic planes and angles to create the image of wild and untamed beauty. Her long, raven-black hair as well, was a perfect mix between the two, a tangled mess that cascaded down to her waist in a truly chaotic fashion, and her leaf-green eyes, while the perfect shape and color of her mother's, possessed the sharp, deadly edge of intellect that could only be wholly Loki's. Even her clothes, a simple white blouse that had certainly seen better days and faded jeans with small, ragged holes scattered up and down their length, did little to detract from her beauty, and even in some respects enhanced it.

Loki sighed at the memory of how he had first found the girl, in that abominable place she called a home. Despite his claim to Thor several days previous, he knew without a doubt that the scream he heard had most certainly been real, as was the violent wave of magic accompanying it. Extraordinarily powerful, and brimming with agony and hatred, the shock of it had been what caused him to lose his grip on the coffee cup, something no simple hallucination could have managed. For a short moment while his brother questioned him, Loki had considered explaining, but something stopped him. The magic, as swiftly as it had passed, possessed some hint of familiarity to it, and that piqued his interest. So he waved the occurrence away, and when the eyes of the Avengers were no longer focused on him, he set about searching for the source. Thanks to no small amount of foresight, he managed to save a shard of the broken cup, psychically embedded with the magic which had contributed to its destruction. Most sorcerer's would not even think to look for such a thing, and even if they did, could do little with it. Loki, however, was one of the most powerful magicians to grace Asgard in millenia, second only to his father, and only due to a lack of experience. It was child's play for him to extract the magical signature and use it as a homing device.

The search took much longer than he expected, nearly a week from the original incident. Imagine his surprise, however, when he finally arrived in a small british suburb, taking raven form to remain inconspicuous, only to find the daughter of a woman he had long since forgotten, whose magic shared enough similarities to his own as to almost certainly be his child as well. The realization and its implications had him almost falling out of the tree he had landed upon, something that hadn't happened since he first learned to transform.

For weeks, the Asgardian prince had watched Hariel, desperate to ensure his guess was correct, while also fearing the same outcome. Loki had many enemies, both old and new, and if this child truly was his, she would almost certainly be thrown into the middle of every last one of those conflicts. And every day, every minute he spent watching Harry, scrutinizing her every feature, action, and magical nuance, those fears only grew, as it became more and more clear that she truly was his daughter. When it became obvious that he could deny it no more, he despaired.

It was almost ironic, really, that those vile creatures had attacked that day of all days. It had, in fact, been the day he planned to finally reveal himself, though certainly not in such a spectacular fashion; but then, he thought ruefully, such was life when you were an Avenger. Nothing was ever as easy as it seemed. And now here he was, escorting the girl, his daughter, to meet the rest, an act that would almost certainly put her in just as much danger as if he had left her alone. The only difference was, now she would be surrounded by some of the most powerful beings on the planet. He tried to take some small measure of hope from that, at least.

"So, do you stalk all your children, or am I just special?" The crack of Loki's neck was almost audible as he looked up from his inner musings to meet Hariel's eyes, the leafy green orbs sparkling with a surprising amount of amusement.

"You seem to be taking this very well." He commented, brow furrowing as her question finally registered. Stalking?

"It's what I do." She replied with a shrug and a slightly wistful smile. "If there's an idea I'm having difficulty wrapping my head around, I try talking about it until it feels natural. Better than breaking down into a gibbering mess as I try and fail to comprehend it." She shrugged again, the small, nonchalant movement earning an amused snort from Loki. That was certainly a viable tactic, he supposed.

"Then the answer would be no, I wasn't stalking you. Merely… keeping watch." Hariel arched an eyebrow at the answer, something that sent a pang through Loki's heart as he recognized it. The same expression had looked out at him from a mirror far too many times for him to count.

"If you say so. I was under the impression that watching under-age girls sleep counted as stalking, but I must have heard wrong." Loki blinked, then blinked again. Did she just…

"I didn't watch you sleep." He said, then mentally berated himself for sounding like a petulant child. Hariel, however, merely rolled her eyes, a small smile pulling at her lips.

"Of course you didn't, Dad." Her tone was as dry as a desert, the sarcasm Loki had always prided himself on so obvious it was painful, but somehow the asgardian found himself incapable of registering it. Rather, he was more focused on the fact that she had called him Dad. That… that made him feel very strange indeed.

"Exactly." He somehow managed to respond, scrambling to regather his train of thought from where it had gone careening wildly off the rails. He was pathetically unprepared for that comment, spoken with such unconcern that for an instant, Loki wondered if Hariel had even realised what she was saying. A swift glance, however, told him that this was likely the case. Judging from the slight hint of anxiety in her features as she looked at him, eyes sharp as a hawk to read his expression, she had wanted to test his reaction to the word. "I am not a… a stalker."

Hariel's eyes flickered for a moment, amusement cutting through her focus. Then she seemed to be satisfied with what she found, finally looking away, just in time for the pair to come to a stop in front of their destination. Avenger's tower, it could be said, was quite the intimidating building. Rising above the New York skyline, it was a beacon of the new age, white and silver outline glinting in the morning sun. For a long second, Hariel found herself simply staring at the sight, awe and surprise warring within her.

"Come. We should not dawdle." Loki moved towards the entrance, mentally fortifying himself for the coming encounter as he went, but stopped when he felt a light touch on his arm. Looking back, the asgardian saw Hariel standing in the same place, suddenly looking just as nervous as he felt, chewing her lip thoroughly.

"Wait," She said, her voice small and scared. "I uh, need to ask you something. Before we go inside, I mean." Loki cocked his head, confused. What was this about?

"Speak." He commanded softly, turning to face her fully. Hariel flushed for a second, obviously embarrassed. Finally, however, she managed to look up from the ground and meet his eyes, her own clouded with a storm of emotions.

"Why… Why now?" She asked, before hesitating a second. When it became obvious Loki didn't understand, she drew in a deep breath, appearing to fortify herself, before continuing, the words coming out in a sudden rush. "I mean, why did you wait so long until coming to find me? I'm fourteen, almost fifteen now, and.. And I've been living at the Dursley's all that time, and you never came and… and… did you not…" DId you not want me? Hariel stopped then, trailing off suddenly as she stared at Loki with pleading eyes, desperate for an answer. It was in that moment that the dark-haired asgardian was struck by just how young the girl was. She had spoken to him almost as an equal, with a maturity and intelligence he would normally have expected from other adults, not a fourteen year old. Obviously she had much more experience than most of her peers, that was clear, but now, looking at Hariel, she seemed like such a child. ALmost without thinking, Loki found himself reaching out to grasp her shoulders, before pulling the young woman into a tight hug, even as he ignored her gasp of surprise.

Loki… was not a man who touched easily. Even before Thanos and the madness which had consumed him, he rarely showed his affection physically, more often than not expressing it in words and looks rather than touch. This girl, however, looking so lost and confused and alone, awakened some fatherly instinct in him that he had nearly forgotten in the long centuries, the desire to hold your child close and protect them from the pains of the world.

"Shhh," He hushed, stroking Hariel's hair softly as she pressed her face into his shoulder. Hariel, as well, was being overwhelmed by a rush of emotion, lost in the feeling of Loki's strong shoulder, and his arms around her. As she leaned into the sudden hug, a small part of her, chained and forgotten in the corner of her mind, seemed to sit up suddenly, freed as it hadn't been for almost fourteen years. Ever since she had been left on the Dursley's doorstep, Hariel was denied even the most basic of human interactions and needs, the attentions of a parent to their all those feelings, that sense of complete and unconditional love and acceptance she had shoved into her subconscious came flowing back like a great river whose dam had been burst, threatening to drown her under their weight.

"Why?" She mumbled again into Loki's shoulder, her voice so small and afraid that the man winced. Slowly, carefully so that she didn't think he was angry, Loki pulled her away, face softening when he saw her eyes, shimmering with tears. He lowered them both down carefully as he winced, and the parent and child sat on the small step in front of Avenger's Tower. For a second he just stared at her face, wallowing in the pain it caused him. He deserved it, he thought. Another part of the penance for his crimes.

"I…" He tried to start but then sighed, struggling to put his thoughts in order. HAriel waited with surprising patience, keeping her gaze on his face until, finally, he looked up and met her eyes again, a small fire of determination burning in his own. "I am ashamed to say that the I failed to rescue you from those abominable people not out of any lack of desire to keep you, but rather that I was unaware you existed." Harry's eyes dried instantly as his words struck her, shock overwhelming everything else for a moment.

"What?" she asked, earning a sad smile.

"I was not in love with your mother, Hariel." He answered simply, ignoring her flinch before continuing. "Oh, I could have been, very easily, but I wasn't. My affair with Lily Potter was a short-lived thing, lasting a few days at most. She and your supposed father, James Potter, had … been on a break, I believe you mortals call it. I, as was my wont every decade or so, happened to be visiting Midgard, and she caught my eye with her fiery passion and exquisite beauty." He paused then, eyes losing focus as he lost himself in the memories.

"I used every skill I had, every ounce of charm to woo her, your mother, and even now I am convinced that I only barely succeeded. LIly was a goddess. In all my centuries, never have I come across a woman so intriguing, so very alive, as your mother. I cuold have loved her, had I been allowed. But then she left. I never knew what it was that caused it, but one day, she was just gone. Returned to her husband, I assume. Now, I don't wonder if it had anything to do with you." Hariel shivered as her father turned his eyes to her, pain shing clearly in them. He truly was sorry, she realised. Sorry that he hadn't been there for her, sorry that he hadn't kept tabs on Lily Potter after she left. It was then, staring at a man so broken by the mistakes of his past, and desperate to make up for them, that Hariel decided something, A simple choice that would change her life. She decided that she believed him.

Carefully, Hariel leaned into Loki's side, almost flinching away as he stiffened. She didn't, however, refusing to be afraid, and a second later she had leaned her head on his shoulder, sighing as she felt the tight, powerful muscles. There was something reassuring about that, the thought that this man was her father. She felt safe, sitting there with him, like nothing in the world could harm her.

It took a bit, but after a few minutes, Loki finally relaxed some, and for a time, they stayed there on that curb, appearing as nothing more than a father and daughter, watching the bustle of the city. It was peaceful, he realised, as Hariel let out a content sigh. And for one small second, he allowed himself to forget all the troubles they faced, all the pain and anger he knew still lay there under the surface. For just a moment, he allowed himself to forget, and simply revel in the moment. Until, as a voice crackled over the intercom, that peace was destroyed.

"Uh, hey Reindeer Games? Jarvis says you're sitting on the steps looking all melancholy. And you have a girl with you? Please tell me you didn't finally break and have regret sex with an underager. That would be kinda messed up, even for you." Loki sighed as Hariel jumped almost a foot in the air, mentally cursing Tony Stark. The man was utterly incorrigible.

"Wha-what was that?" Hariel's voice cut through Loki's fantasy's of strangling the Iron Man in his sleep, and he turned a bemused expression to his daughter, lips quirking as he found her looking around wildly in fear and surprise.

"That, daughter, would be a child in a man's body making terrible jokes." harry stopped her frantic search and looked at him, confusion clouding her expression.

"What are you talking about?" Once again, Loki sighed, before taking her hand and starting to move towards the door.

"Come, I shall explain inside." Hariel followed reluctantly, but she still followed, and Loki allowed himself a small smile. Once more unto the breach, it seemed. He could only hope this ended well.