Author's Note: So, this is my first Harry/Avengers cross over, but not my first Harry Potter cross over. I'll try and keep as real as possible with all scientific theories, but please bear with me; I have very little experience in any scientific field! I ask that all comments be constructive and helpful. I'm really interested in what my readers like, so if you have any suggestions or something you feel should happen please send a PM or post a review. I'm highly dyslexic, so there will be spelling errors, I'm telling you this now to get it out of the way. And hopefully bring a bit of understanding! Anyway, on to the story! Thanks for clicking and taking a look! Prologue will be short, but my chapters range from 1.4k to around 4.6k words. Just so I can keep it short and update more often. – CJG

Summary: After the war Harry Potter simply wanted to get away, after being marked a "dark wizard" and having the wizarding world attempt to take his magic, Harry flees with Remus Lupin, and his Son Teddy in hopes of raising his Godson in peace. Of course Harry never gets what he wants, he finds himself in the middle of New York while aliens are raining from the sky. But really who would have thought he would find a new home in such a place? Follow Harrison, Teddy, and Remus on an adventure of love, home, faith, and Avengers.

Warning: This story contains homosexual relations, violence, foul language, extremely light sexual content, and slight self-harm.

Disclaimer: I don't own anything to do with the Avengers, or Harry Potter, I'm simply borrowing characters in hopes to make a relatively good fiction.

I will only say this once: This isn't stolen from WyrdSmith's story "Food for Thought" (even though I love that story, and the author), but if that isn't good enough for you all. I have permission from WyrdSmith to use part of their idea.


There was a steady drip of liquid dripping from the ceiling. Thunder could be heard roaring overhead, and the crash of water against rock seemed to envelope the entirety of the prison. The scent of putrid filth, the strong scent of body odor, and the painfully horrific scent of the slop they served for food seemed to outweigh the oxygen. Moans and cries for help could be heard from time to time, when the surf and the rainstorm calmed momentarily.

There he stayed in the last cell in the lowest ring of the tallest tower suspended in air like a skeleton on Halloween. His senses were clear, but his mind was dulled by the countless torture, they were trying to take it from him. In ways, muggle ways dark horrific ways using earth magik, using the darkest of unforgivable spells. They knew what they were doing was wrong, but what could he do about it? His arms were extended above his head by force of shackles leaving him dangling almost lifelessly from the bars in the roof of his cell. All the while his wrists raw, bloodied, and smelling harshly of infection and rot. His shoulders had long since been dislocated, his spine stretched out harshly. He didn't know how long he had been innocently locked away, but he knew that it was far too long.

Harry Potter was an innocent man, but they didn't think so, apparently he possessed "dangerous powers" that were "unsafe for public", "Turning in to the next Dark Lord", and he was "to knowledgeable" for his own good on secrets that the Wizarding world. They had kidnapped him from his home, lying to the public and swearing he had committed a murder, and tossed him into Azkaban with no trial. He suddenly understood how Sirius felt, it all made sense now.

The betrayal, the hatred, and the abandonment one felt were heartbreaking. Harry knew he had one ally, but he hadn't an idea where Remus was. A life sentence, doomed to rot away until he was nothing. He had already dropped so much weight, in the two years he had been in the prison he had dropped somewhere around ninety pounds. His body had grown taller from the suspension, gaining somewhere around a head and a half in height. He was sure that if he walked around awhile it would shrink a bit, but he had no idea how to test the theory seeing as he had been hanging there for the entirety of his stay.

He had tried to find humor in his stay, in the reasoning for this wrong doing. But in all honesty all he could muster was the complete and utter hatred he found locked away. He often found himself raging in a wild storm of magic, contained in his small box which he called home. He would snarl things in parseltongue, in English, in any language he could possibly swear in.

He often cursed them, cursing them for betraying him, for more than likely harming Remus Lupin, and for throwing him. He once cursed them, and considered calling Voldemort from the grave to slaughter them and their pettiness. He cursed them for carving tattoos into his skin, for carving his prison number into any space that they didn't ink runes of protection and botched attempts of binding runes. Harry Potter didn't exist, in Azkaban he was simply listed as; Kenaz, Tiwaz, 7, 4, 3 the first two being Nordic runes meaning Kenaz being the rune of fire and Tiwaz being the warrior's rune.

Even through the room was full of wards to ensure his lack of magic, he didn't have a wand, and his magic was no longer used with a focus. His body allowed wild magic to flow through his veins, magic of fire, and magic of the earth. He could feel the magic crackling around him. He could feel the fire crackling in his numb fingers; he could practically feel the supposedly unbreakable metal melting under the heat alone.

The screams seemed to be picking up again, as the dementors caught up with a creature that they had elected their prey. He stayed, quietly fuming, eyes unfailing as he gazed soullessly at the small door that was the only entrance into his cell. He would get out, and then he would leave fire in his wake before he vanished. He would take Remus and his cub with him, and they would wonder where their savior was.