"You know, seeing it on TV is one thing, but seeing it with my own eyes ..." Hermione trailed off, shaking her head.

Currently, she and Harry were standing at the edge of the roof above Harry's apartment looking down on the destruction. Even though the battle had happened a few days ago, the clean-up crew was still working away at the edges. From what little they could see, it seemed that something big, most likely a bulldozer, had pushed their way through towards the centre of the area, leaving huge piles of cars, masonry and other debris piled up on the side of the road. Their best guess was that that way, emergency services to make it in to any trapped or injured people still in the zone.

"I still can't believe that it survived intact," Harry happily said, not for the first time since the two had arrived there.

After leaving the trial and the building that housed the Magical Congress of the United States, the pair had managed to slip away from Harry's lawyer, Matt, into an abandoned alley. Then, after secreting themselves behind a convenient dumpster, had apparated home or at least to the roof of Harry's home.

"Some of the glass panes look a little singed in that corner, though, so it may have only taken a glancing shot at worst," Harry continued as he examined his greenhouse in minute detail.

"Come on, Harry, let's get inside," Hermione said, having finally turned away from the mesmerising view of what was left of the city.

Giving a nod, he crossed to the door and gave it a tap with his wand, magically unsealing it before the two were able to enter the stairwell. Instead of stopping in his apartment, though, Harry led the way down to the Den, after all, the last time that he'd seen it, it had been filled with a whole bunch of people. And while said people were heroes, that didn't mean that Harry trusted them to lock up after themselves or even to clean up the mess that they'd made.

The sight of the café looking the way that it was supposed to, threw him at first. The two tables that had been pushed together for the Avengers were back in their places, their chairs neatly placed around them. Not a dirty dish or cup was to be seen anywhere. His eagle eye could even tell that the lock on the door had been engaged.

Leaving Hermione behind, Harry strode across the room and pushed open the nearest swinging door to the kitchen. Just like the main section of the café, in here was in pristine condition as well. Every pot, every pan, every cup and plate and utensil had been washed and put away. The benches had even been wiped down.

Harry had no idea who'd done it all, but he was incredibly grateful to said unknown person. They'd just saved him hours of work; the very thought of having to clean some of those pans after them being left to sit for days had been enough to give him nightmares.

"Harry?" Hermione called. "I think these are for you."

Instantly, Harry backed out of the doorway and crossed to where Hermione was examining a small pile of notes in her hand.

"They were on the bench," she said, handing them over.

Had my people tidy up the joint for you. We'll be in touch. Fury.

"Well, that explains that," Harry murmured as he shuffled the first note to the back.

Party. My place. 7pm. The day after you get released from prison. Don't worry, I'll know when. Bring a guest, if you want. And your lawyer. Tony.

"Huh," Harry grunted. "Want to go to a party at Stark Tower?"

Hermione beamed at him. "And get a chance to meet some superheroes? Try and keep me away."

The last note answered a question that had been bugging Harry since the aurors had arrived to arrest him.

Harry, I've put your cloak in the bottom cupboard on the very left in the kitchen. Figured you wouldn't want it left out for others to see. Steve.

"That was thoughtful of him," Hermione said, reading over his shoulder. "I assume Steve is Captain Steve Rogers?"

"Yeah, otherwise known as Captain America," Harry replied. "He's been in here quite a few times, not that I knew who he was then."

"Well, at least you can thank him tomorrow night," Hermione pointed out.

"Yeah," he replied, then, "come on, let's head up and I'll make us some dinner."

ooo00ooo

Harry and Hermione had barely seated themselves for said dinner, a simple steak and salad, when there was a knock at the door. For a brief moment, their eyes connected and it was easy to see that both had a look of mild annoyance in their eyes, not to mention some curiosity at who could have made it through the mess that was New York City to call on them.

Harry had only made it half-way across the room before the knock came again. Lengthening his strides, he reached the door seconds later.

"Yes," he asked as he opened the door. The blonde-haired woman in the black jumpsuit looked vaguely familiar. It wasn't until he noticed the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo that her uniform sported that the memory clicked. "I know you! You were in the Den the other day with Fury."

"Agent Barbara Morse," she introduced herself with an affirming nod. "May I come it?"

In answer, Harry stepped to the side and gestured that she do so.

"I'm sorry, we've not long gotten home and have just begun dinner," Harry apologised. "I can get you something if you like."

"Thank you, no, I ate before I came," Agent Morse replied.

Harry noted her sharp blue eyes fix on Hermione before she turned back to him. "Don't let me keep you from your meal."

With a nod, Harry led the way across to the table where they both sat.

"Hermione Granger," Hermione said, reaching across to shake the Agent's hand.

"Bobbi Morse, of S.H.I.E.L.D." she replied.

"What can we do for you, Agent?" Harry asked.

"I'm here to debrief you, Mister Potter," she stated, opening the briefcase that she'd carried in to extract a file and a pen.

"Debrief me?" Harry asked, sharing a look with Hermione.

"Indeed. After your actions with the Avengers, the world has taken note of you. We at S.H.I.E.L.D. would like to help you with that," Agent Morse stated.

"O-kay," Harry said slowly. "Exactly how do you intend on doing that? From what Matt and Hermione have told me, no one knows who I am or the extent of what I can do. I'm sure that I can look after myself."

"Perhaps in the magical world," she replied, then, after the startled look that Harry and Hermione shared, "I have been cleared to know about the magical world."

"How did you get such clearance?" Hermione asked intently. "I was under the impression that only Director Fury had such clearance within your organisation."

"Ordinarily that would be true, but as the newly appointed liaison between S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers, of which, you, Mister Potter, have become a part, I was given the necessary clearance. And as your liaison, I report back to Director Fury who will be running ... interference for S.H.I.E.L.D. and the Avengers if the MACUSA try to stick their noses in where they're not wanted or needed."

Harry shook his head. "Look. I fought alongside that group once, mostly on the periphery, trying to help the ordinary people who were getting hurt and killed, and I met them once. How does that make me one of them?"

"In simple terms, the fact that you fought for the world alongside the rest of the Avengers meant that you were de facto labelled as a part of the team. The fact that Tony Stark, who seems to have become the spokesman for the Avengers, has stated that you're one of them, cemented that fact. The world has seen the footage of you working alongside them, fighting together and for them. You are an Avenger. How much of an involvement you have with the team is up to you. Unless, of course, you tell me right here and now that even if the need was there, that you'd stay away from the fight."

Hermione snorted and Harry gave her a sour look.

"Harry? Stay away from the action?" Hermione said, laughter clear in her voice. "Agent Morse, there's no way that you could keep him away. He's always had a 'saving-people thing'. It's an integral part of who he is."

"Fine. So apparently, I'm an Avenger, whatever in Merlin's name that means," Harry groused. "So what do you need from me?"

"As your liaison, it is in our best interest that we know as much about you as possible so that if you ever need help, resources or training, that we can provide it."

"Makes sense, Harry," Hermione said, laying a hand on his arm.

At her touch, he sighed and nodded. "Ask away, Agent Morse."

"This is a simple personnel file. We get this filled out now and that'll be it for today," she said, tapping her folder before opening it.

"Your name is Harry James Potter, correct?" she asked and quickly received a nod. "Have you ever been known by any other names? This includes personal names, alias', nicknames or titles."

Once again, Hermione snorted, causing him to narrow his eyes at her.

"Yes," he replied shortly.

"This will go a lot quicker if you answer the questions properly, Mister Potter," Agent Morse stated.

"Fine. The-Boy-Who-Lived. TriWizard Champion. The Chosen One. The-Man-Who-Conquered," he replied with a barely suppressed growl.

"They're titles within the wizarding world," Hemione explained, "specifically within magical Britain, although they are known throughout the rest of the magical world as well. They almost all relate to a magical civil war that engulfed magical Britain in the eighties and nineties until Harry stopped the Dark Wizard responsible for it all."

"I may want to visit that topic some more another time," Agent Morse stated, making copious amounts of notes on her form. "Next relates to family and very close friends."

"Why do you need to know that?" Harry asked, his eyes narrowed.

"So that we can keep them safe if the need arises," Agent Morse replied. "For example, in the recent crisis, as soon as S.H.I.E.L.D. learned that Loki was involved, we had an astrophysicist by the name of Jane Foster moved to a safe, secure location simply because she is a very close friend of Thor's."

Harry nodded his understanding. "I have an aunt and uncle that I haven't seen in over a decade and have no desire to, either. My cousin, Dudley Dursley, and I get on alright, I guess. He lives in Penzance, Cornwall. Other than that, it's just Hermione and her parents, I guess. There's a few others, but they're safely hidden away in the wizarding world."

"Very well. I will need to get details for both yourself and your parents, Miss Granger," Agent Morse stated. "Next is education and jobs."

"I finished at Hogwarts ... er, magic school, in ninety-nine," Harry began.

"That seems a bit late, given your age," Agent Morse commented.

"Yeah, well, I should have finished in ninety-eight, but there was a war on and I wasn't able to go to school that last year," Harry explained. "And then it took half a year to repair the school and in some parts, rebuilt the castle before we could all go back."

Agent Morse nodded and made additional notes on her form. "And after that?"

"After that I went into auror training."

"Auror? I'm sorry, I don't know that term," Agent Morse said, shaking her head.

"'Auror' is the name for magical police; actually, it's a little more than that," Hermione explained. "Think of it more as a combination of policework and special forces."

"Okay. And how long did this training last?" she asked.

"Three years," Harry replied. "And then I did the job for nearly another three years before it got too much – the fame thing is atrocious over there, people always gawking at me and wanting to shake my hand and expecting more and more and greater and greater things from me. Made doing the job near impossible. So, I got out. The only other job I've had is here, owning and running the Marauder's Den."

"If my maths is right, that leaves a gap of five, nearly six years," Agent Morse pointed out.

"Yes," Hermione said sourly. "Harry decided that it'd be nice to leave everything and everyone behind and go on a world tour."

"Hey! I asked you to go with me!" an indignant Harry protested.

"And you know why I couldn't," she retorted.

"So you travelled the world before settling down here?" Agent Morse neatly cut off the impending argument.

"Yeah, that's about the gist of it," Harry replied.

"Abilities. We'll leave that as simply 'magic' for now, unless you have something else?" Agent Morse asked.

Harry's slight pause was enough to have Hermione narrowing her eyes at him. "No, nothing else."

"Have you got a suit? Obviously, that blue-grey cloak would be a part of it, but something specific to go under it?" Agent Morse asked.

"A suit?" Harry asked flatly.

"Indeed. Having an outfit will help identify you as an Avenger. The cloak is a good start, but something more would be good."

Harry's eyes flicked towards his bedroom.

"I might have something. Let me think on it," he answered.

"And obviously, your code-name is 'Mage'," Agent Morse stated.

"Code-name? Mage? What?" Harry blustered.

"Ah, yes, you've been held incommunicado from the media the last few days," Agent Morse realised. "The public with, we suspect, input from Stark, have decided that you are 'Mage', obviously because of your magic. All of the Avengers have one: Iron Man, Thor, Captain America, Hulk, Hawkeye and Black Widow."

"Aren't those last two S.H.I.E.L.D. agents? Do all agents get a code-name?" Harry asked.

"Not all, just the best of us," Agent Morse smiled.

"I take it you have one?" Hermione asked.

"Mockingbird," she replied. "Because of the way I like to 'play' with my opponents by mocking them. But it is only used in combat situations. It helps keep our identities secret."

"Fine. I can see the benefits in it then. Guess I'm now 'Mage'. Great, another silly name to go with all the rest," Harry groused.

Agent Morse pulled out a black business card and passed it over. If it was held in just the right angle, the S.H.I.E.L.D. logo could be seen on it. On the back was a single phone number.

"If you ever need me, ring that. Better yet, put that number into your phone and destroy the card," Agent Morse stated.

"Will do," Harry nodded. "And if you need me?"

"We'll be in touch," Agent Morse smiled secretively as she stood. "Thank you for your time, Mister Potter, Miss Granger."

"It was nice meeting you," Hermione called as Harry escorted her to the door.

Then, after one last nod at each other, Harry closed the door behind her.

"Well, that was interesting," Harry said sarcastically.

"Oh, I don't know, 'Mage', I'd say that the 'interesting' is just getting started," Hermione replied with a mischievous smile.

ooo00ooo

An insistent knocking on his door had Harry stumbling out of bed the next morning. In his still half-asleep mode, somehow, he managed to snag his bathrobe as he left his bedroom, although getting said robe on was a whole other cauldron of potion and took until he was finally standing in front of his door to accomplish.

Just as the infernal knocking started again, Harry yanked the door open to find a startled Gwen Stacy standing there, one hand still raised in the act of knocking.

"Gwen? What are you doing here? Do you have any idea what time it is?" Harry asked.

"Eight o'clock," she replied easily. "Ordinarily we'd be opening up about now."

Harry shook his head at her. "We're not going to open today; not much point really." Which led Harry's brain to start thinking a bit clearer. "Hang on, how'd you get here, anyway? I wouldn't think it was exactly safe crossing through everything out on the streets at the moment."

"Dad brought me," Gwen answered easily as she entered the apartment at Harry's gesture. "The police have set up roadblocks all around the area so that only construction crews and official people are allowed in. Luckily for me, my dad's one of those official people."

"Is he waiting downstairs?" Harry asked, half expecting to the police captain standing in his doorway when he looked.

"No, he'll be back in a bit, he's doing a drive around to make sure no one's snuck in to do some looting or something," Gwen replied.

"Okay. Now, are you going to tell me what you're doing here?" Harry asked.

"Well, there's a number of reasons, really," Gwen replied. "Firstly, I had to see for myself whether the Den had been damaged or not; wanted to make sure that I'd still have a job to come back to when the streets reopen."

"You'll always have a job here, Gwen, as long as you want it. There's no way I'm letting my best employee go," Harry smiled.

Gwen ducked her head slightly, her bright blue eyes shining and her cheeks gaining a dash of pink.

"I also wanted to check that you were okay. This place isn't too far from Stark Tower and that's where the heaviest stuff happened. And when I hadn't heard from you, well ... I checked with Dad and your name hadn't come up on any lists of injured or ... or dead that he'd seen," she explained.

This time it was Harry's turn to duck his head.

"Sorry about that, I should have thought of letting you and the others know that the Den and I are alright," Harry said.

"Yes, you should have. I had to come all the way from England to find that out," a voice stated from behind him. "Hi, I'm Hermione."

"Gwen Stacy," the younger girl said as they shook hands.

"Gwen was my first and best employee," Harry explained.

"I know, Harry, you've told me about her before, remember?" Hermione smiled.

"About that," Gwen interrupted, "I also wanted to tell you that I may have to reduce my hours here somewhat."

"Oh?" Harry asked, not sure that it mattered all that much at the moment with the café being closed, but later, it would.

"Yes," she said and a massive smile slowly formed on her face. "I got the internship!"

"You did! That's great, Gwen. I know how much you've wanted it," Harry said, happy for her.

"Internship?" Hermione asked.

"It's with Oscorp. I'm going to be working in their research department, most likely with Doctor Curtis Connors. He's a brilliant scientist, specialising in cross-species genetics."

"Sounds amazing!" Hermione replied. "Congratulations."

"Thank you. I start next week," Gwen said. "As soon as I know my schedule, I'll let you know, Harry."

"Don't worry about it," Harry replied. "We'll work around your schedule."

"Gwen?" a deep male voice asked from the door.

"Here, Dad," she called.

"Captain Stacy," Harry nodded to the uniformed man.

"Good to see you in one piece," Captain Stacy said. "And your building made it through as well, which is incredibly remarkable."

"We were lucky," Harry shrugged.

"You ready, Gwen?" Captain Stacy asked.

"Yes, Dad. See you later, Harry. Nice to meet you Hermione," Gwen said as she crossed to the door.

"She's nice," Hermione said once the Stacys had left.

"Yeah, she's a good kid," Harry agreed. "And I suspect that that internship is going to be brilliant for her, she's going to meet people and do things that we've never imagined before."

"Well, you, maybe, Harry, but my amazing mind can imagine quite a bit you know," Hermione laughed.

ooo00ooo

"Gentlemen. Thank you for coming," their leader stated. "The events of the past week have not been of our making, nor of our choosing. We need to