Reincarnation is a tricky business.

Souls (humans, gods, aliens, it doesn't matter), are things of comfort. They like to stick together in groups that had offered comfort in life. Siblings, best friends, lovers all tend to stick together. The bond of love is a powerful thing.

At the same time, the souls normally stay in one universe. Souls from a universe of ninjas wouldn't be reborn into a world of pirates, for instance. Too different, and the souls wouldn't survive. However, there are certain things that can change that rule. One way to change it, for example, would to include a god or two in the group of souls getting reincarnated.

Asgardians would normally get reborn on Asgard, though because of their long lives it happens even less then it does on Earth. But with these two particular gods so close to so many Earthlings, they would have to be reborn on Earth with them. However, for them to be in the same universe as their still living family, but not on the same planet would cause massive tips in the balance of the universe.

So, the group of souls would have to be sent to somewhere else. But it would have to be a universe that was very close to their home one.

Which is why 7 souls from a world of superheroes were reborn in a world of magic.


-Steve and Tony-

If you asked Harry Potter to discribe himself, he would tell you that he was... well, he was just Harry. It was always an easy answer and one that didn't get him in trouble with his realives.

However, if you asked him what he wanted to be, then he would tell you in hushed tones as if it was a secret that he wanted to be a hero.

"I may not be much," He would say, a slight grin coming on his face. "But if people would just give me a chance, I know I can be one!..."

But he knew he would never be one. His Aunt and Uncle wouldn't keep telling him how bad he was unless they had a sliver of truth. But in his dreams... In his dreams, he was a hero. He rescued people in everyone. He saved the world in a few. He even had friends! People he knew he could trust, even if he could never see their faces correctly.

In the past few weeks, leading up to his eleventh birthday, he had been having one dream in particular, though he never seemed to finish it.

He was fighting something. He didn't even know what, though he was pretty sure they were monsters by the way they were shaped. But he was getting tired. He wouldn't be able to do this forever. Suddenly, the only girl that constantly showed up in his dreams, Black Widow was the only name that ever showed up, voice come through him comm.

"I can shut down the portal!" She yelled. "I can shut it down! Does anybody read?"

"Do it!" He yelled back. "Do it now!"

"No wait!" One of his friends, Iron Man is what he called him the most, come over the comm. "Don't do it yet!"

"-!" He yelled the man's name. He never could hear the teams actual names in his dreams. He was pretty sure he was Captain. "We need to shut that thing down! We're not gonna stop these things with it open!"

"I have a nuke coming in fast! And I know just where to put it..."

He felt his stomach sink. He knew what Iron Man was talking about, and he didn't like thought. "-, you know thats a one way trip..."

"I know, but I don't have a choice."

He could only stand there and watch as his friend flew the nuke through the portal.

Thats where he always woke up. He always had to just lay there until his aunt got on to him for being lazy, waiting for the horrible feeling of helplessness to calm down, just like he was doing now. He shook his head as his aunt pounded on his door again. He knew he was getting to attached to the people in his dreams. Was this what crazy people felt like? He knew they weren't real, but seeing one of them die was just... bad.

Really, it wasn't until he met a boy named Draco did the dream change.

"Please tell me nobody kissed me."

"We won!"

"Ok, whoo! Lets just... Lets just not come in tomorrow. Lets just take a day. Do you guys want some thing to eat? I passed this Shrawama place earlier and I never had it."

Harry woke up smiling. Finally, a dream where Iron Man survived.


Draco Malfoy listened to his father way to much.

Or, at least, that what he thinks. But there are times when he forgets. There are times when he just starts reciting the things that his father tell him, though later, when he realizes that he did he would feel bad. He never knew why he thought this way of course. It was his father. Of course he should listen to him! But when he did, and just told other people what his father thinks... it just leaves him with a bad feeling.

It wasn't always this way. When he was younger, he would gladly recite his father's words. It wasn't until his 6th birthday that he realized something about them was wrong. It was after his part and his Uncle Severus was giving him his present in his room.

"Why didn't you give me this at the party?" He asked, tilting his head as he sat on his bed. His uncle smiled and just handed him the box.

"I'm afraid that your father and mother wouldn't like it." Severus said. Draco blinked and looked down at the box. What would be so important that his uncle went behind his father's back? He shrugged and opened the box. It was a box full of wires and thin square pieces of metal, along with some tools like a screwdriver and a wrench. Draco looked at his uncle with a raised eyebrow.

"Look, Draco, you're a prodigy. You know that, yes?" His uncle began to answer his unasked question. Draco nodded. "Well, the things you do the best at that I noticed were puzzle like things. And I just have a hunch." His uncle stood up and smiled again. "Just... mess with it for a week. If you don't like it, just give it back. I'll be back next Saturday." He turned to leave but paused in the doorway.

"And... those are muggle items. Your parents wouldn't be happy to have that in their home, so lets just keep this between us, alright?"

He had loved it. He had used the supplies in the box up withing a week, making a half done processes(though he didn't know it at the time). His uncle had then taken him out to the library and checked him out some books on the subject, since he didn't know much about muggles. Then he got him some more supplies. And Draco had always made sure to hide them from his parents.

Of course, he still tried to get his father's attention, to get his praise. He did the best he could at his wizard studies, and he was a prodigy. He could learn and understand the theory behind the magic within half the time it took Blaise, or Pansy, or Tracey. And it always got his father to look at him with a slight smile, a pat on the head, and a "Good job son. Malfoys are always the best."

That had, of course, been happening less and less as he was getting closer and closer to Hogwarts age. So he drove deeper into the land of technology. His uncle had told him that technology wouldn't work at Hogwarts because of the large area of magic, so he set on fixing that. But he soon learned that he wouldn't be able to much without magic of his own, so he was just going to have to wait until September.


"Hello," said Draco said the the boy that just walked in, "Hogwarts, too?"

"Yes," said the boy.

"My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands," said Draco, though he really didn't care. He was just bored from just standing there. "Then I'm going to drag them off to took at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow. Have you got your own broom?"

"No," said the boy. Draco supposed that was fine. Maybe his parents were overprotective.

"Play Quidditch at all?"

"No," the boy said again, giving him a confused look then a sheepish smile. "I'm sorry, but I don't know what that is."

"Oh," Draco said, tone growing darker and sneering. He may like muggle technology but years of slander on muggleborns doesn't just go away. "So you're a muggleborn."

"Muggleborn?" the boy asked, confused, before getting an understanding look. "No. Both my parents were wizards."

"Oh." Draco said again, blinking in surprise. The dark look was gone as quickly as it appeared. He didn't know if he should feel bad or not. "Then how do you not know about Quidditch?"

"Sorry," the boy repeated, shrugging his shoulders the best he could. "I was raised as a muggle because my parents died." He paused and debated if he should give his name. After the scene at the Leaky Calderon, he decided he wouldn't give his last name unless asked. "I'm Harry, by the way."

"I'm Draco. Draco Malfoy." Draco said, looking at him closely, as debating if he should continue talking or not. Would that count? He wasn't sure, but Harry seemed nice enough. His father said that Muggleborns were annoying, always getting in the way of their culture. But if Harry was from a pureblood family maybe there was home. "What... What was your parents last name?"

"My own." Harry said with a small smile. "My name didn't get changed. My last name is... promise me you won't treat me any different."

"What?" Draco asked, blinking. What could be so important? He was so confused, but he nodded anyway. "Alright. Whats your name then? I'm way to curious now."

"...Potter. I'm Harry Potter."

Draco's eyes widened and he sucked in a breath. Harry Potter? The Harry Potter?! He was about to ask a million questions, before remembering what he had promised. He slowly released his breath, only just stopping himself from asking. "Alright then. Now I understand. So... you don't know much about the wizarding world do you?" Harry shook his head. "Ok, so Hogwarts has four houses. No one really knows until they get there, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been - imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?" He was rambling, but he didn't know what else to do. Harry, thankfully, cut him off.

"What do the houses mean?" Harry asked.

"Right..." Draco paused before starting again. He should of started with that. "Slytherin is the house of Cunning, the best house my father said, Gryffindor is the house of the brave, or the house of the reckless my father said, Ravenclaw is the house of the smart, or the house of the know-it-alls my father said, and Hufflepuff is the house of the loyal, or the house of the duffers my-"

"-father said." Harry finished. He sighed. "Do you always repeat what your father says? I don't mean to by impolite, but I don't want to be friends with someone living perfectly fine in the shadow of their father."

Draco looked visibly pained at this and Harry looked worried. What did he say what did he say?! Before he could start apologizing, however, Draco swallowed and nodded.

Oh jeez. He was doing it again. But this time... for some reason, the bad feeling that he usually got was doubled. Why had this boy, even if he was Harry Potter, caused him to feel worse about his habit? He caught Harry's worried look and decided he would think about this later. He swallowed so he could speak and nodded.

"Ya... I need to stop that. Sorry."

But before Harry could answer, Madam Malkin said, "That's you done, my dear," and Harry, casting one last look at him, hopped down from the footstool.

"Well, I'll see you at Hogwarts, I suppose," said Draco, and just for a moment, as Harry walked away, Draco saw a tall man with blond hair waving bye.

"See ya, Draco." Harry said as he walked away

Draco blinked, and Harry turned back to normal. What. Just. Happened?


-Thor, Loki, and Bruce-

Ron Weasley always been closest to his sister.

He didn't know why, of course, especially since they rarely got along without an argument. But it just felt... right. Maybe it was because he just liked arguing. Maybe it was because she was the closest to his age. Maybe it was because the feeling of having his older siblings look down on him was... not good, and he was the older brother with Ginny. Who knows?

But he has always been closest to his sister.

Ginny was incredibly smart, catching on the bases of magic that their mother used around the house before she had them explained to her. Ron was never far off, but he always missed that one key detail to make it make sense that Ginny always seemed to get. She was also mischievous, more so then anyone in their family, even the twins. Maybe thats why he was so close to her. She was different.

He was also close to Ginny's friend Luna, though nowhere as much as he was with Ginny. Luna was an odd girl, always on with the weird creatures her father and mother tell her about, and strangely, Ron and Ginny almost always believe her. At the same time, she was oddly interested in muggle science. He didn't really know why, as he wasn't sure where she had even learned of muggle science, but it was fine... until she started sprouting off terms that he couldn't hope to comprehend.

At a young age, they also learned that a Luna preforming accidental magic scared or mad was... a violent Luna.

"Then my dad told me about a bilgesnipe. They-" Luna started, happily rambling to them as they sat outside by a tree as the older Weasleys' played on their brooms.

"-are repulsive beasts with scales and giant antlers." Ron finished for her without thinking. Luna blinked and looked at him.

"Brother, how did you know that?" Ginny asked, eyebrow raised. Ron blinked, and he realized what he said.

"I... I dunno." He shrugged. "It just seemed normal..."

Luna blinked then smiled brighter and continued to ramble, soon trying to explain what gamma rays were. Ginny sat there, seeming to understand after awhile, but Ron started to tune her out after a bit. They seemed to realize that the topic lost him because they changed the different conversation rather quickly. Soon, however, it was time for dinner then Luna to go home right after. Once the blond girl was gone, Ron found Ginny sitting on the porch.

"Something wrong, sister?" He asked. She looked up and sighed as he sat down next to her.

"You'll be leaving for Hogwarts soon." She said. "I'll be the only kid in the house..."

"It's only for a few months. I'll be back before you know it." Ron said. "Then it's your turn to come with us."

"Ya..." Ginny was silent for a moment before smirking. "Are you nervous?"

"Nervous?" Ron huffed. "Since when am I nervous?"

"I seem to remember that time when we broke mum's vase and you were too nervous to do any accidental magic to fix it." Ginny said, laughing.

"Hey! I wasn't nervous, I was terrified of mum!" Ron said. "How do you think I survived that incident?"

"I seem to remember that I was the one that fixed the vase before she found out..." Ginny said before pausing. "And how did you being terrified help you survive?"

"You know its healthy to be afraid of mum."

"True." Ginny smiled and looked fully at him. "You know, this might be the only alone time we gunna get in the next two months, so let me tell you this now."


"I may be a brat sometimes," She said. "But never doubt I love you."

Ron blinked and froze, a ghost voice coming from nowhere.

"I may be envious sometimes, but never doubt I love you."

"Ron?" Ginny's voice broke through the ghost voice, making it go away and Ron blink. He shook his head and smiled.

"Sorry, that just sounded familiar."

"What? Me telling you I love you?" Ginny raised an eyebrow, though Ron could tell she was teasing. "I should hope so. Or is your mind so small that you can't remember these past 10 years?"

"Shut it." Ron said laughing. They shared a smile before Ginny decided to lean in with a smirk.

"Now give me a kiss."

Ron pushed her away, laughing. "Stop it!" Ginny just takled hugged him.



There was times when Hermione Granger's body acts with her thinking.

True, most people had that- the muscle memory. But her's was different.

She never had a martial art lesson, so why should her body automatically preform a kick and flip when those muggers attacked her and her mom?

She got enrolled in a class for that.

She never shot a gun, or even tries to aim at anything, so why was it so easy and natural when she panicked and shot that snake with her grandpa's gun?

She got shooting lessons that as well.

Sometimes she wondered why her body had this... pre-programed muscle memory, but she never stayed on the subject long. She supposed that it was just how she was and got back to her books.

Though, when she started to beg her parents for the small handsome hawk before she went to Hogwarts, it came so out of nowhere, she wondered if that had something to do with it.



Neville Longbottom didn't like his family.

Now, that doesn't mean he didn't love his family, he just... couldn't bring himself to fill in that gape between disinterest and love. It got worse sometimes, where he might not even love them so much. Mostly when his Uncle tried to threaten his life for his magic or his Grandmother compared him to his father.

During these times, he climbed up to the roof and just sat there. For awhile he would stare at distance. He even made up a game of how many plants he could identfy from far off. But, for the life of him, could never calm down until he closed his eyes and breathed in deeply. When he did that, he was somewhere else, though he never knew where because as soon as he opened his eyes, he would be back home.

But, this other place changed everytime, and he loved it. One time, he felt like he was falling, and had something in his hands, that he quickly let go of one side.

A bow, he figured out later, something he had in his hands alot.

Afterwords, he would just go inside and never talk about that it happened.

Today, he was just sitting there, like on the roof, but the feeling of tile under his hand turned into grass on one side and a hand on the other. He didn't need to see to know someone was with him. He smiled as the wind hit him.

He thinks he likes this one.