Disclaimer: Oh, time for this thing. Alright, I do not own anything that is referenced in this work of fanfiction that hence follows in this chapter or any other chapter, this includes the work's of Harry Potter and various Marvel works (and related materials such as the movie's that have been spawned by said works). It may include other items in vague or explicit terms that have been created by other copyright holders, though none of those exist in this chapter.

Quick Author Note: Minor change made to chapter one in form of the day.

Chapter 2: A change in the Wind Says I.

The man was large, larger than he was, was what Vernon Dursley thought as he looked up at the now obvious Russian man. The man was dressed in mostly non-descript clothing of the darker variety which hid large portions of his skin. Though not particularly paying attention, he noticed that the man's arms had a number of tattoos on them. He could even see a tattoo or two peaking out of his clothing around his neck. Of course, all this told Vernon was that this man was not so respectable as no normal man would be so tattooed. This though was forcefully brought to the front of his brain when the man's fist reared back for another strike. At the moment, all he could think was the word oh.

The man struck time after time, always avoiding spots that would permanently damage the body and targeting area that would inflict a great deal of pain. He only stopped when he heard a groan of pain emerge from the small body of the girl. Throwing on more punch, this one aimed at the head which kept Vernon on the ground, the man turned to the girl taking in her condition.

His eyes softened a bit, noticing that the girl was out of it, possibly suffering from a concussion. He gently pried her eyes open, looking at the pupils for any sign of such. They reacted normally enough but without proper lighting it would be hard to tell. However, he was not about to leave the alley and call the police. He'd most likely end up in prison with his record and the girl returned to an abusive home from what he had garnered from overhearing the overweight man.

No, he wouldn't do that. He knew enough about the human body to treat the girl and go from there. She could go to the British consulate or something once she was healed and tell her story then. Or if she wanted to stay he'd let her. He didn't know how to raise a child but he wasn't about to send on back into the same situation he'd grown up in. After all, Ivan Vanko was many things but he'd never abuse a child as he'd been by his father.

He picked up the young girl, glancing at the man on the ground who had apparently been her guardian. Though he had apparently been abandoning her, he felt that he'd make sure that the police didn't come after him for taking her, "Best if you forgot everything pig. The girl is with me now."

Ivan gave a small smirk when he saw the older man faint from the pain. Perhaps he'd forget everything. There was however a small part of him that wanted to rob the man blind but that would leave prints for the police to follow. It would be best if he just let the rest of the nightlife handle that. He left the alley without another word, carefully holding the small girl to his body.

Considering the time, Ivan had little difficultly in returning to his home even though it was in one of the seedier parts of Moscow. He was careful with the girl, holding her tightly to his chest and maintaining a soft but solid grip on her head. There was a chance she might have a concussion and he did not want to make it worse by having her head wipe around as he carried her. The hallways of the housing complex were empty when Ivan moved through them, a plus should the police look for the girl and he was able to enter his home without any issues.

He carefully balance the girls head on his shoulder while he unlocked the door and stepped inside taking the girl into his bed room eager to avoid the aging couch in the living room. His bed was newer and had less of a chance of stabbing the young girl with a spring. It was a bit cold in the home as weather had been a bit lower than normal[S1] and he made a mental note to kick on the heat as he laid the girl down. Pulling himself away from the girl, he realized that his jacket was slightly damp and muddy. Looking at the girl, her own jacket was in a far worse state. She had most likely fallen onto the remains of a puddle when the man had knocked her down and unconscious. Ivan carefully stripped the oversized garment from the girl and tucked her in the bed.

The first stop on his list was the den where he kept most of his computer equipment that he used in his line of work. From the room he grabbed the makeshift first aid kit and a small flashlight. After that he stopped in the kitchen, grabbing a bowl and filling it with lukewarm water before grabbing a towel and washcloth from the pantry. Though he was no doctor, Ivan Vanko had lived in a prison for nearly fifteen years of his life and had played the part of a cell doctor many times. He was quite familiar with the type of injuries the girl had and how to treat them. His first priority was to check to see if the girl had a concussion.

It was worrisome that the girl was still out after hitting the ground but that didn't mean that she had a concussion. Picking up the small flash light, he flicked it on before opening one of the girls' eyes to check for standard reflexes to the light. He flicked the high powered beam so it hit her eye and watched carefully for the pupils' dilation and repeated the process. Thankfully the pupils weren't overly dilated to begin with and reacted as expected when exposed to light. He checked her nose and ears for signs of blood, both of which seemed clear for the moment. His left hand pulled the girls right hand out from under the blanket before his fingers carefully found the veins on her wrist and counted the beats.

Her heart beat was slow but steady and certainly not too weak to be found which along with the other lack of symptoms pointed to the girl being okay. Still, he wasn't one to take chances. Dipping the washcloth in the bowl of water, he dabbed the girl's forehead lightly cleaning of the dirt and grime that had ended up on her face. He refused not to help this girl who'd been abused like his father had abused him years ago. Ivan Vanko would sit next to the bed tending to the young girl for nearly an hour before she woke up though not before he would notice dozens of small scars and the like, one that were similar to his own.

Around Six AM, August 9th on the outskirts of Moscow

The world was cold and wet for Vernon Dursley as he woke with a pained groan in one of Moscow's dirty back alley. The slightest movement of his body caused him pain and his memory of why he hurt was a bit blurry. There was something about the girl and the rental car swimming around in his mind but his memory refused to solidify. What did it matter though, he thought as he sat up causing a new round of pain to hit his head. Tipping forward slightly, he caught his weight on right hand as the world swayed. There was pain everywhere, his arms, legs, chest, even his head hurt. It was almost like a group of people had worked him over and then left him to die.

His brain, while good at managing a factory floor, didn't like to work well in the reasoning department. As such, it decided that the single man that knocked him down was in fact part of a larger group of men. Men that must have hidden themselves and then attacked him from behind. This of course was not the truth but rather the rather feeble brain of the man attempting to come to terms with the events of the night before. All in all, it was just another day for Vernon Dursley even if he was in a good deal of pain.

Deciding that the cold and wet ground was rather disgusting, the large man attempted to stand up with the aid of the mirror on the car door. Given the weight of the man and the amount of work his muscles weren't doing, the mirror on the car door gave way and came off with a loud thunk. As did the man who had been holding onto it sending his body back to the ground once again. Luckily for Vernon, he managed to land on his rear, preventing a return to unconsciousness.

It did however produce a snapping noise that echoed around the area and out onto the street where two passing officers heard the noise. Given the nature of the noise, the two officers almost ignored the sound from the alley as it could have been something falling but the senior officer of the pair decided to check it out. As such the two officers of the law found their way to one Vernon Dursley muttering curses under his breath and kicking the tire of the vehicle with a Russian plate. Not one to jump to conclusions, the older officer moved to tap the corpulent man on his shoulder. He was almost caught flatfooted by the man spinning around and throwing a punch at him though.

Though they weren't the best trained police officers in the world the punch thrown by an irritated Vernon Dursley brought about an immediate response. While the older officer jumped back, hand reaching for the Makarov on his belt the younger officer pulled out a different device from his own belt. That device was a telescoping baton which the younger officer flicked out and smacked into the thigh of Vernon. It was a standard tactic to hit the nerve cluster in the leg there causing the leg to collapse and collapse it did bringing the heavy man to the ground. Painful as it was, it did not cause Vernon to pass out though the bruises on the soft tissue of his body made him wish he had. Instead it only incited him a bit more.

He attempted to stand back up as the younger officer knelt down on his back, responding to the situation as he had been trained this time by cuffing the man's hands behind his back while face down on the ground. The young officer adjusted the placed of his knee to the floating rib in Vernon's back causing him to squirm a bit more but give up on getting up allowing the officer to cuff him. Once at least some reasoning returned to Vernon's though processes as the cold metal snapped around his wrists, he shouted out the first thing that came to mind.

"Don't you know who I am, I'm British you idiots!"

The two officers did have a passing knowledge of certain English phrases, some from television and others from their work. As such, they now knew the man was British and not a particularly bright one considering most people understood the word idiot no matter what the language. Still, the man had thrown a punch at one of them and potentially vandalized a car so he was going into the station after they informed him of his crime and his right to remain silent[S2] . They'd let an interpreter deal with the man. Still the younger one cursed when the senior officer pulled rank to take the man back to the station before the end of the shift, leaving him to deal with the car and most of the paper work.

The officer lead Vernon to the police car parked in the middle of the street, exactly where they left it for the neighborhood foot patrol. The car was left as a visible reminder that there was a police presence in the neighborhood though all it did was remind the criminals that frequented the area to stay hidden for a time. He grabbed the radio off the dashboard calling into the dispatch for his section of the city.

"Dispatch, Sergeant Yerzov, car twenty, sending traffic."

It took a second but the office farther in the city responded. "This is dispatch, go ahead car twenty."

"We have arrested a possible British national who took a swing at us while we investigated a load noise in an alleyway. He was standing near a damaged car with Moscow tags, mirror in hand. He was agitated and attacked when tapped on shoulder. Private Mashir is investigating the car and will await pick up to impound the vehicle." He sent to the downtown office.

"Understood, will an interpreter be needed for the arrestee?"

Looking in the back seat of the car at the muttering man who was still going on about being good, upstanding English citizen in-between curses at the idiocy of the reds, he nodded to himself. "Yes, I believe so. He doesn't seem to understand our language at all."

"Understood, over and out."

Meanwhile at Ivan Vanko's residence, early in the morning of August 9th, of the year 1996

Ivan Vanko was not the type of man that people looked at and thought that he would be a tender caring man. In fact, he looked quite the opposite with his weather beaten look, tattoos and muscles built by hard labor. Thus he looked out of place as he sat vigil by the young abused girl, dabbing her forehead with a warm wet cloth. He had replaced the water twice already, spending most of the water to clean the young girl's arms and face off. Her skin was far paler then his own and littered with smaller scars, except for a single on her forehead. There weren't many bruises on her body that he could see except for those forming from the events of the night though he imagined it would be hard to explain those to airport security if they saw them.

Still, the girl was cute underneath the grim and he could not see a reason for the treatment of the young girl. There was the possibility that she was one of the mutants that whispers had been going on about in the seedier corners of the world, the so called next stage of evolution. Still, she was a child and not at fault for the genes her parents had gifted her if that was a case. No one ever earned abuse for any reason, especially a child. He sat the bowl down on the night table next to the bed before standing up and checking on the girl's jacket that he'd rinsed out the last time he'd gotten clean water. It was spread out on the back of a chair near the heater for the room and was still slightly damp despite the wringing out he gave it.

He was about to leave the room for a minute to grab a glass of water and to use the bathroom when he heard a small moan escape the lips of the girl on the bed. A hand came up to brush the short black hair way from her eyes as she opened them for the first time in an hour. She immediately realized that she was in a bed, something that was very strange for her to be in given that she normally lived in the cupboard under the stairs. In fact, she'd only rested in a true bed for first time on this trip. Shooting up in the bed and opening her eyes she realized that she wasn't in the hotel room her uncle had rented. It also wasn't a hospital either.

There was a man standing near the doorway to the room, a stranger she'd never seen before. All and all, he looked like the type of man that her aunt and uncle always told her cousin to avoid. Never her though, still she'd overheard them and she clutched the blanket that lay on top of her and moved to hide behind it.

This didn't stop the man from coming toward her nor did it stop him from pulling the chair with her jacket on it to the edge of the bed. He made no move toward her but just looked her in the eyes that peeked from behind the frayed edge of the blanket.

"I stopped him," he told her solemnly. "He won't do it again."

It took Serenity a second to comprehend the statement; the man must be talking about what her uncle had done. The punch to her stomach, the slap to her face. However, it held the question of when did he stop it. She certainly didn't remember it, just her uncle hitting her harder than he'd ever done in the past. It didn't stop her first statement to the man though.

"It's what all little freaks like me deserve."

[S1]Aug 9 High of 16C and a low of 9.8c Historically

[S2]Looked for but not really able to find a reliable source to see if Russia had a Miranda type warning. Though I imagine that they have something similar. Hence, the crime and right to remain silent. Now, also you must remember they only suspect his nationality at this point, so they are arresting.

Ending Author's Note: Now for an explanation to the lack of work on this story. It's actually quite simple; I lost the will to write this for sometime due to the worsening condition and eventual death of my grandmother. At the time of the original posting of the chapter, I was quite gun-ho over writing this story and had quite a bit worked out but shortly after that my grandma was admitted to the hospital. While she was out shortly after that, she needed someone watching her constantly as she often forgot where, when and who she was not to mention others.

So I worked and watched over her for the next five months before she was admitted into a hospice center where she eventually passed away one week later. Considering the path that this fic was going to take (the death of Ivan's father) it hit a bit too close to home to work on for quite some time. By the time I got back to writing and working, my mind had moved on a bit to Stargate and Mass Effect, which lead to a fanfic that I'm working on.

Here's to those that are watching this fic though, I'll try to get another chapter out in the coming months but I'm not too sure when it would be. Below though will be a bit of a teaser for the SG-1/Mass Effect cross that has been distracting me.

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Disclaimer: I don't own SG-1/Mass Effect. See above disclaimer for a more refined answer.

Snippet takes place during Season Six, may or may not be in final story. Just a teaser type thing. FYI, Revan and Seven are the same person.

Oh look a lightsaber - (III[0]III]=================

"I cannot stand by idly while my friends die. Daniel may not be able to descend but I can." The being known by the ascended name Revan told her 'friend'.

Across the room, though the term was used loosely considering the higher plane of existence, stood another such being known as Morgan le Fay. "I understand and believe it or not, many agree with you to a point. Your speech did provoke thought and as such we will not stop you from returning to mortal form to stop the plague from beginning anew."

Revan cracked a smile, "As if you could stop me anyway."

Morgan just shook her head at the other woman's comment. "Oh we could have but the question is how long before you forced us to descend you."

"Exactly." She responded with a smirk.

"Still, we'd prefer that you maintain your current plans to work with the Asgard and restrict your access to your ascended knowledge."

Revan was pulling on a pair of socks, metaphysically anyway. "Of course, I have no want to burn out my brain. I'll be limiting myself to something close to what I was before the incident that forced me to ascend."

Morgan's eyebrow raised itself in doubt but the other woman saw it. "Oh come on, you really didn't expect me not to take a few things with me. You know it's only a matter of time before someone does something that gets the attention of the Ori."

"I expected as much. I will see you again. After all…" Morgan began.

"Many paths cross along the great journey." She finished.

Descending was nothing if not odd, Seven decided as the darkest of the clouds broke apart above her. She was aware of so much more now but at the same time much of what she once was stayed just out of reach. At least Oma and Morgan had been allowed to help her descend, thankfully with clothes. The cold weather of Antarctica was something she didn't want to face naked. As it was, she was wishing that she had at least a regular hard-suit if not a type two environmental one.

They were decent and provided some warmth as well as cover for her body including her face so she supposed it was good enough for a short walk across the ice and snow. Near her lay one of the doctors that had been manning the base and finding the carrier of the plague. Calling upon a fraction of the energy she could draw from, she placed a hand on the man's head and channeled energy into his body. Picking up the prone body of the doctor that had collapsed while attempting to return to the SGC's Antarctic research base, Seven begin the trek toward the base in the distance guided by the man's gps.

As luck would have it the metal shutter gate for the base raised up as she reached the base, exposing the slightly warmer vehicle bay. Despite the snow blowing, she could see two snowmobiles inside as well as several people. Two were dressed for the colder weather and sitting on the snowmobiles, while Sam and the Kelownan man, Jonas if she was right, stood close by.

The first man looked up as he lowered the shield for the helmet, she could see and hear that he gasped. Wither or not it was because of the man she was carrying or if it was herself she did not know. No matter what, the Kelownan man ran to the shutter control and hit the button required to close it. Underneath the snow covered mask, Seven smiled as Sam radioed Janet and motioned for her to lay the man down on the emergency stretcher attached to one of the snowmobiles. She did so gingerly, knowing that the man while she had healed the man of his infection, there could be some other damage from frostbite.

Grabbing an edge of the stretcher, she motioned for the others to do the same. The Kelownan man as well as the two men in snow gear grabbed an edge to carry it. Janet arrived just in time for her to see the four of them lift the stretcher. Not losing anytime she motioned for them to carry the man into the main area of the small lab and out of the cold vehicle shed. The four of them lifted the stretcher easily and carried into the lab where Janet could work. She worked as fast as she could to check the man over, having Jonas remove the man's boots, while she and Sam removed his face coverings and gloves respectively. Surprisingly enough the man's extremities were just slightly frostbitten rather than third or fourth degree frostbite she was expecting.

Meanwhile, Jack had stripped off his helmet and gloves to get some answers out of the person who had recovered the missing doctor. He hadn't really taken a good look at them in the bay considering that Doctor Woods's life had been in danger at the time. Giving the person a quick once over, he determined that she was a she and did not appear to carry weapons. The woman in question though was dressed somewhat oddly considering her location, though something in his mind felt like there was something familiar about her. Her clothing looked very light for the extremely cold weather at the South Pole and was off. It didn't look… local. There was also the fact that her face and hands were covered and he could only really see her glowing violet eyes.

It took only a second for the observation to go through his mind, glowing violet eyes. Only one person he'd met had eyes like that. But it couldn't be her; she had been exposed to the radiation like Daniel and had ascended to survive. Right?

He took a chance, trusting his gut was right. "Seven?"

The woman in question nodded before pulling the facemask that had been protecting her from the extreme cold. Though a bit rosy in the cheeks the former ascended being looked little worse for the wear. "Salve, Jack."

"Salve?" Jack questioned as he grabbed the woman in a bear hug that lifted her off the ground. "Ah, I don't care! What are you doing here?"

Given the size of the lab, it wasn't surprising that Jack's exclamation drew the attention of almost everyone in the room including Ayiana. Though Janet only spared a glance as she checked Dr. Woods's vitals. Of all the reactions, Sam's was the most extreme as she pushed Jack out of the way and grabbed Seven's face before giving her a deep kiss. There was a general averting of the eyes as she did so, though Jonas watched the two with wide eyes.

Parting slightly, foreheads touching, Seven gazed into Sam's blue eyes. As such she was slightly surprised when she was pushed away slightly and smacked across the face. Head turned slightly to the side, Seven nodded her head.

"Yeah I supposed I deserved that. Forgive me Sam?" She asked as she straightened back up. The look in Sam's eyes said it all. Don't do it ever again. Sam let her head drop slightly as she let Jolinar take over. "Hey Jol, thanks for taking care of Sam for me."

"I will let Samantha's greeting suffice for the two of us. Though I do believe I speak for both of us when I say, do not do it again. We have missed you greatly these past weeks." Jolinar told the woman leaning in slightly to allow their foreheads to touch before backing away.

With that Seven stepped forward and clasped Teal'c's arm like any Jaffa would, bowing her head slightly toward the man as she did so. Stoic as ever, the man returned the greeting though they all knew he was just as happy as the others to her return.

"And that brings me to this young man since Janet's busy. I'm Seven Shepard; I believe we met briefly on Langara." She told the Kelownan man as she stuck her arm out in greeting.

Reaching out and taking her hand, he shook it once before responding. "Jonas Quinn."

"A pleasure though I wish this meeting was under better circumstances." Seeing that Janet was finishing up her examination of the doctor, she took a quick walk over to the only other person in the room, the plague carrier.

It was likely that the woman had no memory of her time on Earth before frozen all those years ago. It was also doubtful even with her Alteran genetics that she would recover that information. Still she had to try.

Looking pointedly at the woman she spoke in an older dialect of the Alteran language, "Lle rangwa amin?"

There was a small flicker of something but it turned quickly to confusion. That confirmed it; there was little hope that she remembered much. While she was still recovering, her memory had most likely faded while in stasis. However, there was always something new to learn and that was something an Alteran mind was very capable of. Still there was the matter of the plague.

She reached out and took the woman's hand in her own, looking into her eyes as she did so. Letting her energy out slightly she touched the energy of the woman and communicated her intentions. Though a bit surprised, Ayiana nodded her consent as the energy flowed forward and into her body, purging the contagion from her body. Once it was done, the energy was withdrawn with the whole process taking only a few seconds.

Janet had finished her exam of the doctor, who was in decent shape all things considered and turned to face the new arrival. There was a moment where the doctors' eyes scanned up and down the body as if to determine any health issues before the good doctor stepped forward to engulf the woman in a hug.

"It's good to see you again Seven, we missed you."

AN: And there's that snippet end. Well see ya around.

End of Line.