Matt Murdock walked up the last flight of stairs with ease, a feat that not many blind people could accomplish. One would think that his lack of using his cane at this particular staircase could be due to familiarity, and in some way, that was true. The fact that he had enhanced senses, was more correct, though. Every sense, bar sight, worked for him far beyond the human norm.

Thus, upon entering his penthouse apartment, he was instantly aware that he wasn't alone.

The sound of breathing was nearly indistinguishable, but it was there. Turning slowly, Matt placed his briefcase on the floor and faced the lounge.

The intruder was absolutely still, making it hard to tell much about them. The one thing that he was able to determine was the fact that they were seated in the right-hand single chair.

"Might I ask what you are doing in my apartment?" he asked.

"Seeing how long it would take you to notice me," a deep male voice replied, just a hint of amusement in it.

"And?" Matt asked.

"Just as fast as I expected, perhaps even a bit quicker," the man answered.

"That still doesn't answer why you've broken in to my apartment," Matt said. "And believe me, doing so to a lawyer isn't your best move – they tend to know all the laws to charge you with."

"Are you threatening me?" the man asked, that amusement back.

"If I need to. Now, leave," Matt ordered.

"I came here to hire a lawyer," the man stated.

"The offices of Nelson and Murdock are open between nine and five. I can even give you the address if you need it," Matt said.

"Don't worry, I know where you work. I'm good that way. I like to keep my eye on extraordinary people," the man said.

Matt stiffened slightly. If that wasn't a directed barb, then he didn't know what was.

"Are you in some kind of trouble?" Matt asked. "I presume that that is why you're in need of a lawyer."

"Not me, someone else, someone just as extraordinary as you are. Perhaps introductions are in order. My name is Nick Fury and I am the Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. I, of course, know who you are, both when you're a lawyer and when you're not."

Matt walked forward with ease, slipping past his furniture until he was directly across from Fury, the coffee table between them.

"If you know who I am, then you know not to antagonise me," Matt near growled.

Fury gave a low chuckle. "Oh, I definitely know that. That's something that you need to learn that we have in common. As I was saying ..."

"S.H.I.E.L.D., yes. I've heard of it," Matt interrupted. "What does a secret spy organisation want with me."

"Ordinarily, nothing. While your methods are unorthodox, we can't fault your results. Doesn't mean that we won't keep a close eye on you, though, just in case," Fury stated. "But that's not why I'm here. As I said, I'm in need of a good lawyer."

"What's the case and why me?" Matt asked, taking a seat.

"Tell me, Mister Murdock, do you believe in magic?" Fury asked.

ooo00ooo

Matt stood to one side of the foyer of the Woolworth Building in Broadway, New York. Currently, his hands were folded atop his cane, his briefcase on the floor beside him and his head slightly lowered.

He was certain that this was the place. He'd detected a person disappear into a door mere metres from where he stood, a door that had his senses screaming, indicating that there was something unusual about it. A passer-by had confirmed that there was indeed a carving of an owl above the door that he was looking to enter.

His problem now was finding a way through that door; after all, his new client was somewhere on the other side of it.

His head shifted slightly as the outside door opened and a woman entered. Her long hair bounced around her head and there was a faint scent of apple in the air, most likely from her shampoo. Her steps paused briefly as though she was looking for something before she resumed walking, this time on a course for the very door that Matt was waiting to enter. Noting that her hand twitched slightly against her sleeve, he knew that he'd found exactly what he needed.

Picking up his briefcase, Matt took the necessary strides to intercept her, deliberately tapping his cane a touch harder than necessary.

"Excuse me, Miss, I was wondering if you could help me?" he asked.

"I'll try," she replied, in a British accent, "but I'm not from around here."

"That's okay, I think that you have the information that I need," he leaned in then, lowering his voice so that none but her could hear. "I'm looking for the entrance to the Magical Congress of the United States."

He noted her start. She knew exactly what he was talking about.

"I'm sorry?" she asked.

"I'm a lawyer who needs to see his client," Matt explained. "And I can't do that until I locate his whereabouts."

The woman was silent for a long few seconds and Matt could feel her gaze focussed upon him.

"What's the name of this client?" she asked suspiciously.

"Harry James Potter," Matt replied and her sharp intake of breath confirmed his suspicion that she knew who his client was.

"You know Harry?" she asked.

"Not yet. But we can change that quite easily if you help me," Matt pointed out.

"And you're his lawyer? Is Harry expecting you? Who hired you?" she asked.

"I am. No. Mutual acquaintances," Matt replied.

He could almost see her eyes narrowing at the way he'd answered her questions and he smiled slightly.

"Right. I'm Hermione Granger. I'm Harry's best friend and if you're here to help him, then we best get you to him," she stated forcefully.

She reached for his elbow but a simple sway was enough to keep her hands away.

"I can make my own way, as long as you're able to get us in," Matt told her.

"I suspect that physical contact will make the passage easier," Hermione counted.

A slight nod of his head allowed her to take his elbow and walk them the last few metres to the door that he'd been staking out. Her hand rose and something, a stick he thought – her wand? – appeared briefly before disappearing and they stepped forward.

There was a sensation that they were spinning in place, the door revolving around them almost too fast to comprehend, before they stumbled forward, out the other side into a place that was far too large for what the Woolworth Building should be able to accommodate.

"Why magicals insist on the most unpleasant methods of travel is beyond me," Hermione muttered, obviously a long-held resentment that she held.

Once again, Hermione made to grasp his elbow and he evaded her with a small sway.

"Lead the way, I'll be right behind you," Matt said.

He could feel her looking before she shrugged and took a moment to look around the great hall before striding off to their left. Instantly, Matt moved with her, allowing her, as the magical, to be half a step in front.

"Good morning," Hermione said to the man behind a large counter.

The man appeared to be slightly higher than they were, even though he was sitting, leading Matt to believe that he was on an elevated platform.

"Can I help you?" the man asked.

"We're here to see Harry Potter," Hermione replied. "I believe that he's being held here by the Department of Magical Law Enforcement."

"Sorry, Miss, no one gets to see the prisoner," the man replied.

"What about his lawyer?" Matt asked, stepping forward.

"Lawyer?" the man repeated, the sound of his clothes moving, followed by the swish of hair and the scratch of skin telling the story of the man's movements. "I haven't been told about any lawyer."

"My name is Matthew Murdock, from Nelson and Murdock Law Offices. I have been retained as Mister Potter's lawyer," Matt stated.

"And I'm his assistant, Hermione Granger. I'm from the British Ministry of Magic," she said.

Matt raised a single eyebrow at that, however, for now, he didn't question it.

"Well, I guess everyone's entitled to a lawyer," the man mused. "Right, let me see your wands so that I can register them, then I'll give you a pass to go down to the DMLE."

Matt waited patiently as Hermione handed over her stick (so, he was right).

When the man turned to him expectantly, Matt answered the unasked question.

"I don't have a wand; I'm non-magical."

"You're a nomaj? Well, I never. How'd you get in here, then?" the man asked suspiciously.

"I escorted Mister Murdock," Hermione replied. "Unless you'd prefer to bring Harry out to the foyer of the Woolworth Building?"

"No, no, can't have that," the man backtracked. "Right, put these on and follow the signs to the DMLE. It's on Floor Seven. They'll assist you from there."

A deft hand was required to snatch the badge from the man before Hermione could take it and attempt to pin it to him. Not that there was a pin, he found, nor anything sticky on the back. However, when Matt attempted to copy his new partner's motions by holding the badge to his jacket, he found that it stuck there by itself automatically.

Magic, he grunted silently. Guess I'm going to have to get used to that pretty quickly.

ooo00ooo

Harry barely managed to stand before a brown-haired missile impacted his chest, strong arms squeezing around his middle.

"Hi, Hermione," he said, "what are you doing here?"

Instead of replying, she pulled back, looked him in the eye and smacked his shoulder.

"You and your saving people thing!" she accused. "You could have been killed."

"Hey, I'm good. Fine, even. Not a scratch on me," Harry protested.

"Thanks to Charlie Weasley," she countered.

Harry gave her a confused look. "Charlie? What does he have to do with anything?"

"I saw you on TV, Harry; you were wearing the dragon-hide cloak that Charlie gave you," she replied.

"Huh," he grunted, "so I was. I was on TV?"

"The whole invasion and battle was," she replied.

"You know that you didn't have to come all the way over here just because I got arrested on some stupid charges. You know as well as I do that I have a legitimate defence," Harry said.

"I didn't come here because of that," she replied. "I didn't find out that you had been arrested until I arrived in America. I came because I was worried about you and that I had no idea how badly you were hurt – or even if in fact you had been hurt – and there was no way to contact you."

"I'm glad to hear that you believe you have a defence for your situation," the man that Harry had barely noticed entering with Hermione said.

Harry gently pushed Hermione to his side so that he could see the man properly. He was taller than Harry and he had the impression of a lot of strength hidden under his business suit. The man also carried a walking stick, which, when combined with his dark glasses, told Harry that he was blind.

"Harry Potter," he said, automatically sticking out his hand and instantly feeling foolish for doing so.

Surprisingly, though, the man clasped his hand unerringly.

"Matt Murdock. I'm your lawyer," the man introduced himself.

"Lawyer?" Harry echoed. He looked at Hermione for an explanation.

"Don't look at me, I only just met Mister Murdock in the foyer of the building," she said. "He'd been hired for you before then."

"O-kay," Harry said slowly. "Mind telling me who hired you to be my lawyer?"

"Nick Fury on behalf of S.H.I.E.L.D.," Matt replied. "And I've actually got to thank you. S.H.I.E.L.D.'s put me on retainer, a nice big fat retainer at that."

"No problem?" Harry replied, not quite sure how he was supposed to respond to that. "I mean, I only met Fury the once, just before the aurors turned up, and that was only for a few minutes. I don't quite understand why he'd go to all that trouble for me."

"You, Mister Potter, are now known to the world as one of the Avengers, the group of extraordinary people responsible for saving the world," Matt smiled.

"The world knows who I am?" Harry asked panickily. "I mean, I know I screwed up leaving my cloak out for the Avengers to find, but I honestly thought that the whole neighbourhood was deserted. I never pegged them for telling the world who I am."

"The world does not know your true identity," Matt reassured him, "just that someone was there with extraordinary powers wearing a very distinctive cloak. The press seems to be having a field day trying to find information about you, information that your fellow Avengers are being very careful with. Don't be surprised if the press or the public have given you a moniker by the time we get the charges dropped. Speaking of, I take it that you are aware of the charges against you and you even have the basics of a defence in mind?"

"Well, obviously, Harry's been charged with breaking the International Statute of Secrecy," Hermione began, a fact that Harry nodded his agreement with.

"Stop," Matt commanded, holding up one hand. "I haven't had time to learn the laws of the Wizarding World. Miss Granger, you've just been hired as my assistant. Now, tell me the basics of this Statute so that I know what we're dealing with."

"The Statute has been in effect since sixteen ninety-two and decrees that all aspects of the wizarding world – our magic, the way we dress, magical plants and creatures – must be hidden from the non-magical world at all costs," Hermione replied.

"Okay, basically everything to make sure that your world and culture stay hidden," Matt mused. "I can understand how breaking it would be a big deal. I can also see how Harry's actions would have blown that right out of the water. Tell me about the defence that you believe would work in this instance."

"Clause Seven," Harry stated. "I'm sure that Hermione knows the exact wording, but it basically says that magic may be used in front of mugg... er, non-magicals if there is an imminent threat to life."

"Which I would think an alien invasion definitely qualifies as," Matt nodded. "The fact that the world does not know your identity or where your abilities came from, plus the fact that you were working in conjunction with others with superhuman abilities, will also be useful to us."

Matt moved unerringly to the table and took a seat, laying his briefcase on the table.

"Let's get to work," he said. "The first thing that I'm going to need is the exact wording of the laws – the Statute and any relevant Clauses."

ooo00ooo

"Alright, Jarvis, what have you got for me?" Tony asked as he entered the great glass room filled with every scientific device imaginable.

This wasn't Tony's first choice of places to hang out and work, but Malibu was too far away and his main workshop in the Tower was partially still under construction and the parts that had been ready had been damaged in the battle.

"New York is a warzone, Sir," the cultured voice replied. "Every building within a five-block radius of Stark Tower has been damaged in some way, many will need to be demolished and rebuilt. The streets within that zone have also been heavily damaged keeping emergency services from even entering. There is a lot of debris, both of Earth origin and Chitauri origin, throughout this zone.

"Damage is much more limited between blocks six and eleven, once again using the Tower as an epicentre. There is no report of damage further out than that."

"Well, that's something," Tony deadpanned. "Who's cleaning up the mess?"

"The army and S.H.I.E.L.D. are both on site, each claiming jurisdiction for the alien technology," Jarvis replied. "Emergency services are doing what they can and building contractors, including those from Stark Industries, have begun the clean-up effort."

"Good. Good. Now, the important bit. What about the Avengers?" Tony asked, his hands busy as he flicked through holographic displays showing footage of not just the battle, but the clean-up work as well.

"As instructed, I have made sure that that name has been spread widely throughout social media and with the press," Jarvis stated.

"Excellent, can't have the press coming up with their own names," Tony commented. "Their choices would be sure to be atrocious. I mean, Iron Man is kinda cool, not terribly accurate, but cool. What about the others?"

"The alias' of Miss Romanov and Mister Barton have been made known. Thor retains his name. The presence of Captain America has caused some wide-spread interest. And Mister Banner's nickname of the 'Hulk' was decided upon during his last outing in Harlem," Jarvis replied.

"What about our new friend; Potter?" Tony asked, seeking out news articles related to the magical one.

"The press has yet to decide upon a name for Mister Potter," Jarvis replied.

"Hit me," Tony ordered.

"His magical status has been speculated upon," Jarvis replied, "leading to such names as Wizard ...

"Boring," Tony decided.

"Sorcerer ..."

"Eh, too normal," Tony stated, cocking up his nose.

"Magician ..."

"Pass."

"Mage ..."

"Stop! That one has potential. Mage," Tony mused rolling the word around his tongue and brain for a minute. "Right. That's the one. Run with it. You know what to do."

"Indeed, Sir," Jarvis replied.

ooo00ooo

"All rise!"

Matt stood behind the desk that he'd been provided, his assistant beside him doing the same, as the five-person panel of judges filed in from a door to the right.

His heightened senses told him that the large oval room was filled to capacity with observers. The sound of popping cameras and the smell of unknown chemicals told him that there were dozens of reporters also present. Both of these facts were unsurprising given the extreme nature of the case within the magical world.

"Please be seated," the magical bailiff stated. "This session of the Magical Congress of the United States of America is called to session. There is one item on today's docket, the trial of the Magical United States of America on behalf of the International Confederation of Wizards against one Harry James Potter. Bring in the prisoner."

Movement from a door to the left heralded Harry arriving and being placed in a chair inside of a magical dome. Hermione had told him that the dome would allow sound to travel into and out of it, but magical spells couldn't be performed from inside it, nor would they pass through the barrier. The sound of dozens of cameras popping away accompanied every step that Harry made.

"If it pleases the court, I bring a petition," a man spoke up from just the other side of the barrier between the court proper and the observer's seating area.

"Your name, Sir?" the middle judge asked.

"Peter Silverbrush," the man replied. "I'm here on behalf of the British Ministry of Magic, Office of the Minister for Magic."

Beside him, Matt felt Hermione stiffen. There was surprise in her posture; she obviously knew nothing about this petition.

"What is this petition?" the same judge asked.

"The Minister for Magic requests that, as Mister Potter is a British citizen, that he be handed over to us for trial and judgement," Silverbrush said.

Matt felt Hermione lean closer to him.

"Harry's shaking his head," she whispered.

Instantly, Matt was on his feet.

"Your honours, Mister Matthew Murdock. Counsel for the Defence. We wish to state that we are happy for Mister Potter's alleged crimes to be judged here and today by yourselves."

The five judges conferred briefly before the lead