Now, this was the chapter that required some of the most remastering, because as some have rightly remarked, it comes off as a childish revenge fantasy. And in many ways, at the time it was. Being rather older and somewhat wiser, I'm now trying to fix it up a bit.

Thor had received what seemed to be a lecture of dos (emphasise memory loss and the fact that he's staying with her) and don'ts (talk too much about Lily, not unless Jane asks) when talking to Jane, and the same for Harry (again, emphasise memory loss, also emphasise that he loved Lily and does not love either her or him any less. Ease him into the idea), while the rest gave suggestions. Most were helpful. Even Tony's suggestions were helpful, surprisingly enough.

But the conversation soon moved back to more political matters.

"You're going to need to talk to Director Fury," Natasha said to Thor.

"I will," Thor said. He smiled slightly. "I know Nicholas Joseph Fury better than you think."

Tony nearly choked on his scotch. "His middle name is Joseph?!"

"It is," Thor said. "He was a close friend of my mother and father in law," he explained. "And the closest thing Lily had to an older brother." He laughed. "Oh, it is an irony. He was very nearly Harry's godfather, and he always was very good with him. He was particularly good at doing the voices for bedtime stories. Why, I think Harry once called him 'Unca Nick'."

There was a thump and a sound of shattering glass. Thor looked around. Tony had fainted.

Clint's jaw had dropped. Natasha's eyebrows had both risen. Bruce and Pepper looked amused. Steve looked surprised.

"Really?" Steve asked.

"Yeah… he was a lot younger, back then," Thor said. "He had both eyes. And he smiled more, much more. However serious he looked, Lily could always make him laugh."

"How did they know each other?" Bruce asked curiously.

"Lily's parents, Michael and Emily Evans, worked in the Security Services, and they took Nick under their wing when he was posted to Britain, as SHIELD's liaison to the Order of the Phoenix, the group I fought with," Thor said. "Or at least, that's what I heard."

"They worked for SHIELD," Natasha said. "A good half of the exemplar missions on the SHIELD training courses were based on some of their missions."

"And they were pretty much the best out there," Fury said, striding into the room, displaying the sort of impeccable timing that was either a requirement of being the Director of SHIELD, or a perk of the job. "So. Thor. Or is it James?"

"Whichever suits you, Nick," Thor said. "I take it you heard?"

"Most of it," Fury said. "I lost my eye avenging you two, you know," he said. "It's a bit odd having you as part of my team, now," he said wryly.

"Who took it?" Thor asked. "I can bump them up the list of people to smite." He chuckled. "And odd does not even begin to cover it."

"That's true enough. It was Lucius Malfoy," Fury said. He smiled a dark smile. "And I am the reason he is on his second wand and walks with a cane."

"Consider him smote," Thor murmured.

"No," Fury said. "When Lucius Malfoy dies… I am going to be the one to do it."

"Well, this is delightfully morbid," Tony commented from the floor. "So, Nick, what bedtime stories did you read little Harry?" he asked, smirking.

Fury gave Tony an evil look. "James," he said. "I am going to get you for telling him that."

Thor laughed. "Good luck with that." He sobered. "How did you hold up?"

"About as well as might be expected," Fury sighed. "I tried for custody of Harry, but that went about as well you might expect, considering I had no direct tie to him. Remus tried as well, but as a werewolf, he'd have had a better chance of becoming Minister. And Wanda's job meant that her taking Harry would be like signing his damn death warrant." He paced. "I knew Sirius was innocent, but only the Order of the Phoenix would even consider taking me at my word, and the politicians had found their scapegoat."

"So you were never going to be listened to, not in a million years," Thor said, nodding.

"Exactly," Fury said sourly. "I was lucky not to be obliviated."

"I wonder how the kid's doing," Steve said thoughtfully. "I mean, I've had previous with revelations like this being dropped on your head and they can be… a little disorienting."

"That is a good question," Thor said quietly. "I'll drop in on him again. But first, I have business with the Ministry."


"So," Harry said, grinning like all his Christmases had come at once. "Run this by me again."

"Your dad basically told Snape that he controls every thunderstorm in the world and threatened to fry him if he upset you ever again," Fred said, also grinning.

"My dad is awesome," Harry said.

"Can't deny it, young Harry," George said. "Why, Gred, I'd say –"

"That he's pretty much a god of awesome? Yes, Forge, I think I agree. Of course the god of badassery is our new Master –"


"And that was just after Loki basically dared a bunch of students to kill him."

"Why did they want to kill him?" Harry asked.

"Their parents died in the Battle of New York," George explained.

"Oh," Harry said quietly, being sharply reminded that his new uncle was a reformed evil overlord.

"Yeah," Fred said, slightly sober. "Still, he did offer them the chance to kill him if they wanted to and did apologise for it."

"In my own defence, I was insane at the time," Loki said. All three of them jumped.

"Blimey –"

"Uh –"

"Master –"

"We didn't –"

"See you –"


Loki chuckled. "You weren't meant to. And Loki will suffice, unless I am actually teaching you," he said. "Those students had every right to take my life in recompense for their loss. I humbly requested they let me atone for my actions," he continued. "And they accepted."

He sighed. "Every time I close my eyes, I see one of the fallen. People I condemned to death, either directly or indirectly. Such is the price I have paid," he said. "But I would not have it any other way. They remind me of what I was. Never forget. Never repeat. All I can do is use them as a spur to do good, to protect those who need protecting. Power comes with responsibility, one I forgot." His expression was determined. "Never again."

He smiled slightly. "Now, what is this I hear about my brother intimidating that vile Snape creature?" He wrinkled his nose. "Honestly, if he were the first mortal I had encountered when I tried to rule this earth, I would have given the lot of you up as a bad cause. A ruler should have subjects who understand the concept of washing every now and then."

The three snickered.

"Yeah," Harry said. "Snape… I'm honestly surprised most people can't smell him coming."

"I can," Loki said and shuddered slightly. "It is not a pleasant experience." He conjured a chair and sat down, ignoring the incredulous stares of the Weasley twins. Wandless conjuration with that much ease was generally held to be impossible. Of course, Loki lived and breathed the impossible. He smiled slightly. "And God of Badassery… that is a new title, I must say. I like it." He leaned forward, and looked at the three. "Now, tell me about this intimidation. In full."

The twins shared a look and began to talk.


Tony watched as Thor flew off. "So," he said. "The big guy has a kid. Who'd a thought it?"

"Well, he is over a thousand years old, Tony, and it's a safe bet that a royal warrior god would have got around," Bruce pointed out. "I'm only surprised that the kid is so young."

Tony inclined his head. "Good point," he admitted. He cracked his knuckles. "This kid has abusive guardians. Not for much longer," he said, tone determined. "JARVIS, bring up all files relevant to Harry Potter. I don't care what you have to hack – just do it."

Fury coughed. Tony rolled his eyes. "Fine. Hack everything but SHIELD files." He paused. "You do realise I hack your databases when I get bored, right?"

"Which means roughly four times a week," Pepper said.

"I was going to say that I could provide the old hard copy files of Michael and Emily Evans," Fury said. "They haven't been digitised."

"Cool, thanks," Tony said, already distracted.

"Oh, and Stark?" Fury said. "I'll handle their physical hell. You handle the mental hell. I expect them on the front page of every paper in Britain."

Tony grinned. "Sounds like fun," he said, typing away.

Natasha glanced at Clint. "I think we have a few suggestions to make," she said.

"I'm open," Tony said. "What about you two?" he asked Bruce and Steve.

Steve shook his head. "Just make 'em pay," he said quietly.

Bruce looked thoughtful. "Make them out to be freakish abnormal monsters," he suggested. "I can't think of anything that could hurt them more."

"Gotcha," Tony said. "One reputation destroying revenge, coming right up."

He began to type as Fury left. He had a plane to catch. He turned on his phone. "Wisdom?" He said. "I need a favour…"


Thor walked through the Ministry. The hammer at his hip earned him a few odd looks, and people who recognised his appearance whispered to each other, but nothing more. People seemed to instinctively know to get out of his way, the same way animals hide when they hear the sound of thunder. A storm was coming.

"CROUCH!" Thor bellowed, striding into the Department of International Magical Cooperation.

The man himself walked out of his office and stopped. His jaw dropped.

"James Potter," he said faintly. "You're dead."

"I was disembodied. I was returned to my true self. I am James Potter, and I am also Thor Odinson, the God of Thunder," Thor stated, striding over to the other man. Though he was in his James Potter form and wearing standard wizard robes – save for Mjolnir on his belt – he managed to give off the same looming and intimidating air as he did as Thor. Since James Potter had not been the world's smallest man, it was not that hard. He grabbed Crouch by the throat and slammed him against the wall. "And I want to know why Sirius Black never got a trial."

Crouch's eyes bulged and he began to turn red. Thor held him there for a few long moments as a crowd grew, then dropped him and smoothly drew his wand, which had been provided by Dumbledore.

"Start talking or I start hexing. Since I'm a little out of practice with this thing, who knows what will happen," Thor said ominously.

"All the evidence… was against… Black," Crouch wheezed.

"So you threw him into the worst prison in the world without a trial?" Thor demanded. He turned to the crowd. "Sirius Black is innocent of betraying I and my family. He was not our Secret Keeper. I do not doubt that he is innocent of the other charges against him as well."

"Then who betrayed you?" Crouch asked.

"Pettigrew. Who, being a rat animagus, probably faked his death," Thor said grimly.

"You have proof of this?"

"I will testify under veritaserum, provided that I see the questions first. You can find me either at Hogwarts or by contacting me through Professor Dumbledore," Thor replied, turning to go. He paused. "Consider this: if Peter was the one doing the cornering, why was it him who was backing away into a corner, according to witness statements? Why was it Sirius who was asking him questions before Peter asked him the question, and why did Sirius do it quietly when Peter did it openly? If Sirius was really an insane murderous Death Eater, how did he keep up the 'act' for so long?"

He paused. "Oh, and Crouch? I expect him to be exonerated. Or the fact that you threw him in Azkaban for popularity might find its way into the Prophet. If it isn't already on its way."

"Justice isn't my department anymore," Crouch said.

"I don't care. Do it. Or I guarantee you'll be jumping in terror every time you hear the crack of thunder for the rest of your miserable life," Thor growled.

"How can we contact you?" one secretary, braver than the rest, asked.

"Ask Dumbledore," Thor said curtly.

He stalked out, hurling some floo powder into a nearby fire and barking, "Hogwarts!" as he stepped into it.

He stepped out of the flame into the Headmaster's office, and looked at Loki, who was waiting. Dumbledore was out and Fawkes trilled a greeting.

"Hello Fawkes," Thor greeted, then looked back at Loki. "Brother, has Tony called?"

Loki nodded. "He's ready. I spoke with the Queen, and she has passed on a message to the Prime Minister and his cabinet, to formalise Harry returning to your custody."

"Since when do you know the Queen?" Thor asked.

Loki looked a little shifty. "We got… acquainted."

"Loki, you didn't…" Thor said, laughing. "When?"

"It was over sixty years ago, Thor, during the Second World War," Loki said. "We keep in amicable contact."

"How did you meet?" Thor asked, vaguely fascinated. He had been away that his brother had intermittently visited Midgard during their general estrangement from that realm, but only in the context of his habit of wandering through the other realms as well, exploring the nooks and crannies of Yggdrasil. In other words, he was generally short on details.

"She was helping out after a bombing raid, and unlike her fellows, seemed most unperturbed by someone falling out of the sky. She had a calm and presence that marked her out as special, even among kings and queens," Loki said calmly. He smiled. "Dear Lizzie. I respected her even when I was going through my 'Midgardians are ants' phase."

Thor shook his head, smiling slightly. "After all these years, brother, you are still full of surprises," he said.

"I would be boring if I wasn't," Loki retorted. He smiled. "She was one of the first people to contact me when I returned to Midgard, the day it hit the news." He winced slightly. "Mother could have taken lessons from the scolding she gave me. Age has neither dimmed her infinite majesty nor diminished her ability to give a tongue lashing that would send Surtur running."

"I did wonder why you were looking terrified and holding a telephone away from your ear," Thor observed, amused.

"Yes," Loki said slowly. "Harry wants to talk to you some more."


"Yes. He said that he wants to get to know his father," Loki said.

Thor's smile could have lit up London. Then, it faded. There were darker things to be handled first.


Vernon opened the door cautiously, in response to the brisk knocking. He had heard the strange noises outside, and devoutly hoped that it wasn't one of… those people. Besides, the brat was still at that freak school. Vernon hoped he hadn't been expelled. After that incident with Marge he quailed at the thought of an angry young wizard in his house looking for twelve years' worth of revenge. Then, however, he had received a letter informing him that the freak was safely in the care of his fellow freaks. Now, though, and entirely unbeknownst to him, those twelve years of revenge he had been worried about were coming to his door. With added interest.

He opened the door, and his jaw dropped. It was none other than Tony Stark, Iron Man. Vernon's opinion on heroes was less than flattering due to their freaky powers, though he did concede their uses. But Iron Man was an achievement of science, not freakish magic, and a successful businessman to boot, so he was to be admired. He was also standing in his suit on the doorstep. Well. That explained the noises.

"Hey, Vernon Dursley, right?" Stark said, flipping up his visor.

Vernon nodded dumbly, still in shock.

"Can I come in?" Tony asked.

"Of course," Vernon said, rather confused. "Come in, make yourself at home. But… why are you here?"

"I'm an industrialist. You work for a drilling company. Why do you think I'm here?" Stark said, smirking to remove most of the bite from the words. But there was something about the eyes. Stark's eyes were calculating, eyeing him and weighing him. For all the man's less than respectable reputation as a playboy and an eccentric, he was a genius and a brilliant businessman, one who did not trust easily, so Vernon suspected he was judging him as a potential business partner. He brightened up.

After all, why else would the man be here? It was hardly as if they had any mutual acquaintances. It was a little puzzling that Stark chose to meet him here, but that could be explained by the man's eccentricity. He led the way towards the kitchen, then turned as a clatter heralded Stark stumbling. A hand had brushed against the cupboard under the stairs, which hung open.

"Sorry, I'm not used to walking in this thing in confined spaces," Stark said apologetically, though his eyes told a different story. They were looking inside the cupboard, scanning the interior. Vernon realised with a thrill of fear that Stark had meant to fall over. He had meant to knock open the cupboard door. The visor snapped down and Stark scanned the room more closely.

"Prime Minister, your majesty, members of the Cabinet and Nicky boy? Are you getting this?" Stark said. A reply – Stark must have turned on the speakers, Vernon thought, as a wave of horror swamped him – came, metallically distorted like Stark's own voice. But less so, leaving the voices recognisable.

"Loud and clear, Mr Stark, we can see and hear everything," the Prime Minister said calmly. Vernon nearly fainted, while the small part of him that wasn't in total panic mode wondered at why the Prime Minister was involved in this. "To confirm, we can see and hear everything. And Director Fury would like to register his displeasure at being called 'Nicky Boy'."

"I'm sure he would. This doesn't look like it's been used in several years, but JARVIS says that according to his scans, it was used almost constantly for at least ten years. If I had to guess, Harry was moved out when he got to Hogwarts age," Stark said. His voice was cold, clinical, even warped by the suit. "If I had to guess further, I'd say that the precise addressing of the Hogwarts letter frightened these people into giving him a better room. They probably thought retribution for the crimes was coming and hoped to cut it off. I've pulled some files relating to Harry and it says that any attempt to intervene was cut off by bribery or influence. The money's coming from two sources, as the files that should be appearing on your screen now will show. One's the Dursley family account and the other is unknown. I can follow it if you want."

"Thank you Mr Stark. Since you have shown on repeated occasions that her Majesty's government cannot keep you out of its personal files and that you can run rings around all our computer experts, your help would be much appreciated," the Prime Minister replied dryly. "I think we have enough evidence to show that Harry is being mistreated, and the question of blood wards is somewhat moot when young master Potter can spend his summers in Asgard or the Avengers Tower. Ladies and Gentlemen of the Cabinet, Colonel Fury, James Potter – do you prefer Thor? James it is then -, your Majesty, the only question that remains is whether the Dursleys face Asgardian justice, or British justice. After all, it was one of Asgard's citizens that was harmed, and I think we could make a case for extradition."

"Asgard's citizens? The freak's a wizard, not a god! I would know, I knew his parents," Vernon said, before he could stop himself. The temperature dropped, then a very familiar voice came over the intercom.

"Did that useless fat arse just call my son a freak?" James Potter said slowly, sounding as if he was beyond rage and into the oceans of calm, calculated fury beyond. "Sorry your majesty."

"No offence is taken by your language, Thor," her majesty replied. "We understand what it is like to want to protect one's children."

"Mr Potter, I understand your anger –" the Prime Minister said, then there was a loud crash. "Bugger. He's gone. Stark, I'm willing to bet the next election that he's coming your way."

"Oh Christ," Stark said. "Yeah, you're right, he's coming this way. He'll be here in about sixty seconds."

Vernon heard thunder outside, and when he looked out the window, he saw ominous dark grey storm clouds gathering at an unnatural rate.

"Oh, you've pissed him off now," Stark said, sounding gleeful. "Mistreating the son of the God of Thunder is a bad idea."

"What is he going to do to us?" Vernon asked.

"Well, put it this way. The only reason this house hasn't yet been hit by a thunderbolt the size of the Empire State building is because I'm in here," Stark said lazily.

Vernon whimpered.

"Don't worry, I'll persuade him not to smite you. If only because what is actually going to happen is more painful, protracted and satisfying," Stark said, as Thor landed outside the house and strode in, wearing his James Potter form and his Asgardian armour. Vernon whimpered again.

"Dursley," Thor snarled, drawing back his fist. Petunia had come through by this time, and shrieked.

"Vernon, what is happening?" she asked, as a truly enormous storm brewed outside.

"Justice," Thor spat. "Justice, Petunia Evans, at least a decade overdue!"

"You! James Potter," she whispered, blood draining from her face.

"I go by Thor these days," Thor said coldly as Vernon cowered. Petunia shrieked, as their son, Dudley hid behind her. Since he was a good deal wider than his mother, the effect was much like an elephant trying to hide behind a stick, but he was making a valiant effort.

"Thor, smiting them will be less fun," Stark said, restraining Thor. "Remember the plan. Be reasonable!"

"I am not the God of Reason and Understanding! I am the God of Thunder and Lightning!" Thor roared. A lightning bolt gouged a ten foot long trench in the Dursley's lawn to underscore this.

"Yeah we get it big guy, but save the smiting," Stark said. "You're meant to be setting an example for Harry, remember?"

Thor calmed down. "Thank you, Tony." He looked once more at the Dursleys, glancing distastefully at the wet patch on Vernon's trousers. "There will be a reckoning, Vernon, Petunia. You want to count on one thing? Count on that." Then he strode out and flew off.

"He's probably gone to hit something," Stark said. "Now, I've always wanted to do this: Vernon Dursley, Petunia Dursley and Dudley Dursley, you are all under arrest in the name of the Crown. Come quietly or I'll bounce you off the walls until you do."

They came quietly, much to Tony's voluble disappointment ("Why do I never get to hit people? It's always Thor, Bruce or Natasha."), and were bundled into a police car.

And all Vernon could think about was that those twelve years of revenge had come. With interest.


Meanwhile, Petunia was thinking about her predicament. One moment, the Dursleys had been a prosperous, well respected family, and above all, thoroughly normal. The next, Tony Stark had exposed their most shameful secret.

The freak that was, not their treatment of him, which he deserved, no matter what anyone else thought, like cousin Elaine, her husband John and their freak daughter Jean. If it wasn't for the shocking revelation that her good for nothing and very dead freak of a brother-in-law was in fact, not dead and the Norse God of Thunder, she'd have thought it was them or some other freak sympathiser that was behind this.

She looked at Vernon. He looked like he'd gone into shock and he was deathly pale.

"I can't believe it," he whispered.

"Neither can I, dear," she said.

They were silent for the rest of the car ride. When they got out, outside a non-descript concrete building, they were surrounded by police, black suited men and women who looked like chartered accountants, but could probably kill you with their pinky finger, and men and women in tight uniforms who looked like they could probably kill you with their pinky finger, but could probably work as chartered accountants.

"Mummy," Dudley said suddenly. "Are they going to kill us?"

Before Petunia could answer, a voice she never thought she'd hear again spoke up. "Oh no, Mister Dursley," Nicholas Fury said, stepping into view. "We aren't going to kill any of you. You are going into care, while your parents are on a one way route to jail."

"We have rights!" Vernon suddenly said. "You can't do this!"

"Yes, Mister Dursley, I can. And I can do a lot worse if you piss me off even more than you have already. For now, just count yourself lucky that we persuaded Thor to let you face human justice. Otherwise you and your wife would be in the not very tender care of Loki right now," Fury said. "And between you and me, all that's really changed about him is which side he fights for. And you abused his nephew, so I think you should realise that you are luckier than you deserve to be."

"You," Petunia whispered, finding her voice.

"Yes. Me, Petunia," Fury said, single eye glinting. "I am very angry with you, young lady. When you were younger, I thought you would be fortunate if you were half the woman your sister was, magic aside. Now… you aren't fit to lick her shoes. Your parents would be ashamed of you."

Petunia sneered. "They supported my freak of a sister, they always did. They preferred her. I don't care what they would think."

"Since you were a total bitch from after Lily got her letter, I wouldn't be surprised if they did," Fury retorted. "As it was, they loved you both equally, even if you made it damn difficult for them not to prefer Lily. And frankly, if you don't care about what they would have thought, you're even more of a hopeless cause than I thought."

"Petunia dear," Vernon muttered. "Do you know this man?"

"Yes," she spat. "I do. He's Agent Fury of SHIELD. He worked for my parents."

"It's Director Fury now. I run SHIELD," Fury said.

"Lost an eye, I see," Petunia said haughtily.

"Yeah, avenging the sister you didn't damn well deserve," Fury confirmed coldly. "Besides, I only need one eye to see you for what you are: a jealous little girl who turned into a bitter middle aged woman who married a man who puts the ass in jackass. You didn't grow up, Petunia. You just got older."

"How dare you speak that way to my wife!" Vernon demanded, going purple, having apparently forgotten that he was very badly outnumbered and outmatched.

"Very easily. Now, shut the fuck up, or I will personally shove your undersized head up your oversized ass," Fury said, glaring.

Vernon shut up.

"Mummy," Dudley whined. "I'm hungry. I want to go home."

"You don't have a home, kid," Fury said bluntly. "And you're going to be hungry for quite a long time. In case you were wondering, your rights went out the window a long time ago." He looked grimly triumphant. An agent handed him some newspapers.

"Ah. Tomorrow's papers, early," Fury said. "'A nation's shame: Shocking child abuse case in Surrey'," he read aloud. "Yesterday – that's today, by the way – Britain discovered that it had been playing host to the lost child of Thor, Norse God of Thunder and an Avenger. Details are naturally kept under wraps, but it is believed that the child was born to a human woman while Thor was undergoing a period of exile on Earth to learn humility, under the enforced belief that he was human, something enforced by his spirit inhabiting a human body from that body's birth. Both he and his wife worked for the Intelligence Services. The family was consequently targeted by a terrorist called Tom Riddle, and his followers, who were known as the Death Eaters, and on Halloween twelve years ago, they were attacked. Both parents and Riddle were killed – though it is rumoured that Riddle still survives. Thor was apparently returned to Asgard by his body's death, where the trauma caused him to repress the memories of his life on Earth. The child, unaware of his true heritage, was given into the care of relatives. When he started manifesting abilities that derived from his inhuman heritage, they started mistreating him, calling him a 'freak' and keeping him in an understairs cupboard while an upstairs bedroom went begging. A culture of silence surrounded the local middle class community, which did not comment on the mistreatment. Any and all inquiries by Child Services were redirected or stymied by an unknown factor.'"

He flipped through the paper. "Yeah, they go on for a while, but it ends with this: 'undoubtedly this is a tragedy and a case that should make any reader ashamed to be human, let alone to ashamed to be British. All we can do is be thankful that Thor's son is now in his father's care and that Asgard holds only the perpetrators responsible.'"

Fury flipped the paper round. "And look. Photos of you all, with named captions. And information on your former place of work, Mister Dursley, which has hurriedly denied that it had any knowledge of your abuse, indeed, any knowledge that you had a nephew at all." He glanced at the papers again. "Kinda like how the papers and politicians both local and national, are pretty much all falling over themselves to disavow you as British citizens."

Vernon whimpered.

"You see," Fury said. "What you're getting now is a taste of how Harry felt all those years. He was hated, reviled because of who he was, at the mercy of others who might just hurt him because they felt like it. Welcome, Dursleys, to Harry's former life. Welcome to hell."

The Dursleys simultaneously whimpered. Fury smiled. It was not a nice smile. "I hope you survive the experience," he said. He glanced at a darkly handsome black suited man who, Petunia noted absently, bore a striking resemblance to one of Lily's freak friends, with an eye patch. "Take 'em away, Wisdom," Fury said.

The man nodded, and a couple of burly agents dragged the Dursleys into the building. Vernon and Petunia were never seen again, save for a few court appearances. Dudley went into care, where he was bullied for his weight. The name Dursley became, for a period, only marginally less reviled than Hitler as the papers whipped up a storm, eager to focus the blame on someone. Analysts noted that the names 'Vernon', 'Petunia' and 'Dudley' all but dropped out of usage over the following years. They went down as one of the most hated families in modern history, thanks to imaginative manipulation of the internet and the papers by Tony Stark.

This would not be the last that was seen of them, of course. And these acts, as cathartic as they might have been, were not without consequences. But for the time being, at least, the revenge was complete.

And that is the long awaited revenge, tweaked a little. Why are various government figures involved? Because an angry god on a mission of vengeance is the sort of thing you organise crisis committees for, and Britain has one in the form of COBRA (alas, not half as cool as it sounds and evidence that an obsession with cool acronyms is not limited to fiction), and her Majesty is there because why not. As for the rest, Fury has a personal stake in it.

Oh, and the 'God of Badassery' line? I borrowed that from the awesome Twitter user 'GodOfBadassery', whose tweets are very in character for Loki and well worth checking out.