Chapter Text
An army stands ready
A General has been procured to lead them
The General shall come before the leader of Earth’s Shield,
To make declarations of war
The Shield will fail, the ground will crumble,
But the beacon and her knights will come to the fore
To stand at the side of the Shield and their heroes
Together they shall see us prevail
Thousands of voices howled out the words on the winds of the blizzard which filled Harriet’s version with white with a barricade of snow that kept her from seeing clearly. While the cold may not have bothered her the winds were working diligently to push her back. The pain they caused her eyes made her wish to close them and turn away. The force on her body provided a similar effect, insisting that she should reverse her course, leave her quest behind.
“Mistress,” Nagini hissed unhappily.
Harriet reached up a hand to stroke Tom’s familiar through her robes where the snake was coiled around Harriet’s neck, torso and waist.
Nagini could feel the intention of the storm just as Harriet could. They were being urged quite violently away from what was ahead. Had Harriet been a normal human Seer she would have already been expelled from her vision, left shivering and with a throbbing head but Harriet was not all together human. Resisting the magic that tried to block her from Seeing Harriet left her eyes open while plowing ahead through the manifested environment around her until finally there was abruptly an end to the snow.
Hidden safely in the eye of the blizzard stood the familiar statue of Harriet’s sire, the man she suspected was the General to come. Up above were the golden skies of her unconscious with a large hole cut through the fabric of space . Lining this portal stood the army, peering down bellow with spaceships and blackness and stars behind them. Determined Harriet tried to get closer, to search out the answers they needed but the whipping winds fought harder still to keep her from proceeding. With invisible hands it seemed to reach out to pull her back. Utilizing all her strength Harriet resisted but as she made to lift her foot for her next step the ground began to shake causing her to loose her balance.
The wind grabbed at her.
Harriet fell.
Unable to fight it she was pulled out of the clearing and back into the blizzard.
Vertigo overcame her making it impossible to tell what was up or down as Harriet continued to fall through the blizzard with the voices of prophets all howling the same prediction at her. No matter how she flailed or where she turned Harriet only continued to fall and tumble at the mercy of the storm.
“Master,” Nagini called out in distress.
With a start Harriet returned to consciousness her body trying to flail but instead she was trapped.
Harriet couldn’t move. She couldn’t move! With the emotions of the vision still coursing through her panic overtook any chance she had at rationality. She didn’t understand what was happening and was too stirred up to calmly work it out. Instead she lashed out with magic at whatever was restraining her. She wanted to be able to move. She needed to get free. She needed to warn the others. But the instinctual use of a Jotunn’s cursed cold did nothing to help free her.
Suddenly the encasement that kept her still lost strength. The ice around Harriet’s body began to crack into smaller and smaller shards as a pair of blue arms reached in to retrieve her form the tub.
As Harriet broke the surface she gasped for air while Voldemort continued pulling her up to his chest where he cradled her close, offering comfort.
“It’s alright. You’re safe. You slipped into a vision,” he told her as she clung to him, lost in the animalistic nature of panic. Undeterred Voldemort continued his assurances in a soothing tone. “You’re safe. You’re in the bathroom at home. I’ve got you.”
“Nagini,” Harriet asked vaguely worried but with the panic retreating she could sense that she shouldn’t be.
“Safe on her perch. Her mind traveled with you but her body was and is secure just as you are,” Voldemort assured while rubbing circles on Harriet’s back.
Shakily Harriet nodded but she felt compelled to open her inner eye to take in the house around them, seeing through the walls to assure herself that all was as it should be. They were home. She was standing in her tub with Voldemort helping to hold her up and Nagini on her perch in the bedroom. No other living soul was around for miles.
After her overly long day Harriet had thought to take a soak. Word that the Wakandans were choosing to stay so they might take her up on her offer of a tour was a pleasant surprise but meant putting in overtime to cement arrangements and make certain everyone was on the right page. All the while she was nagged by her natural curiosity over why the Wakandans had decided to stay. Some quick attempts at divining answers were blocked however Harriet had her suspicions over the sudden change and those suspicions almost entirely lead back to the most cunning person she knew, Voldemort.
With this deal going through meaning so much to her Harriet suspected that he would give her every chance to make it work before stepping in to force the matter if her efforts proved to fail. Rather than confronting him she was trusting he knew better than to resort to any methods too extreme or diabolical. She was also trusting that he hadn’t included her in his plans for good reason.
Staying out of things was not Harriet’s natural way. This fault had only gotten worse in the last decade or so. She’d grown accustomed to being a chess master influencing the movements on the board guided by her sight and the vast trove of intelligence she’d gathered on the pieces. Most people Harriet couldn’t stand to have making moves without her oversight. Even Voldemort, her most trusted companion working in secrecy left her agitated.
With the days work done and another long day waiting for her Harriet thought to allow herself a good long soak before bed. Sealed away in the quiet of her bathroom she slipped bellow the water’s surface with her thoughts wondering to the prophecy. Led by her desire for answers Harriet’s Sight cast out to find them. Unfortunately the protections being used by this General and his army fought against her efforts. Reacting to what her consciousness was perceiving to be happening her magic reached out, freezing the bathwater around her in order to create a protective casing around her body.
Panting Harriet closed her Sight and eyes so she might focus on settling herself.
“What did you see,” Voldemort asked.
“I think he’s coming. I think he’s coming soon. As in, imminently.”
Opening her eyes again Harriet took a deep fortifying breath. Lightly she hit Voldemort’s chest as a signal she was ready to be let go. Obligingly he left her to stand under her own volition. On steady feet Harriet stepped out of the tub while Voldemort reached to collect her wand and hand it over to her. With a flick she was dry and striding out into her bedroom with Voldemort trailing behind.
“While I’m getting dressed would you fetch a tea set,” she requested.
Nodding he headed for the kitchen.
Up on her habitat Nagini was watching them anxiously. Diverting from her path Harriet headed to the familiar to offer her some comfort before continuing to her clothes. Rather than Harriet-at-home or her Harriet Potter-leader-of-the-light ware she went for something very different. A small section of her wardrobe was purposely very distinguishable from the rest. Everything in this section was made well but basic. Utilitarian in nature the pieces were constructed of sturdy fabrics mostly in navy blue with the occasional piece in black and a few white button downs thrown in. With military efficiency Harriet went about dressing herself. Enchanting the clothes into helping her was not an option as the materials were chosen in part for their magic resistant qualities.
By the time Voldemort returned Harriet was dressed. Not a hint of skin showed from half way up her neck on down with her high collared long jacket doing most of the work to cover her with her boots, trousers, and gloves taking care of the rest. Setting the tea service down on the bed Voldemort sent a spell at Harriet’s hair making it braid itself into one neat plait before that twisted up into a tight bun on the top of her head while Harriet went about serving them both a cup. After handing his over Harriet drank her own down like a shot before looking inside.
Her cup spoke of important decisions ahead of her. Something that was as common as it was unhelpful. Setting it down dismissively, she held out her other hand for Voldemort’s emptied cup.
“What do you see,” he asked.
“Strain.” She saw strain to his resolve. With Voldemort that was a worrying sign as about the only thing he was resolved to was keeping Harriet happy and safe. The worse thing he could do to upset Harriet was over indulging in his selfish or malicious tendencies.
“I’m going on ahead. Get Nagini settled with the elves then catch up,” Harriet said, her tone and manor transforming as she began slipping into a different mindset.
“I’ll join you as quickly as I can,” Voldemort promised.
“Be safe Mistress,” Nagini hissed out with concern.
Lingering for a moment to hold the snake’s head to her own, Harriet promised, “I’ll do my best.”
This one soft moment of care Harriet allowed herself before pulling back and locking her emotions away. A stern cool facade took over her being and with it came a change to her appearance. Through the joint working of illusion and transfiguration her body was transformed. A shaving of her height was lost while the rest of her grew becoming slightly more shapely as well as acquiring some bulkier muscle mass. The features of her face shifted along with her body aging to place her firmly as being viewed as middle-aged but still relatively young by the standards of the magical world. Her skin transformed from a warm to a cool tone. Her eyes lightened becoming a piercing blue. Her hair too lightened to blonde strands which were mostly straight and styled in a short cut which was brushed directly back from her face.
Over all the change could have been more drastic. Harriet could have done much more to make this disguise different from the look she was born with, but most people would suppose that in crafting a new persona for herself Harriet would make it as different from her true identity as possible. Which is precisely why she hadn’t.
With the transformation complete Harriet fell into the mindset and mannerisms of ‘Madam Smith,’ the ICW’s Head of Investigations and Enforcement. The Enforcement part had never really been all that prevalent before the groups public ‘founding’ upon Harriet’s becoming head. Before that the ICW’s Investigators had been one of the Wizarding World’s best kept secrets. At the time made up exclusively by those blessed with reliable Sight this handful of individuals was tasked mostly with seeing to it that muggles who weren’t meant to know about magic weren’t secretly aware.
Madam ‘Smith’ was the first Head free of grey hairs to ever be given the post. Few in the know argued against her appointment. Some did however work hard to argue against the many changes she worked to enact. Sometimes they got their way. Mostly what Harriet wanted won out. That her predecessor was willing to get the ball rolling during his tenure helped immensely.
Using her Sling Ring Harriet left the arctic to travel through seven locations before using the portkey that was waiting at the seventh to take her to the Headquarters for the European based Investigators. She shouldn’t have been able to reach the portkey if she wasn’t herself but as a last measure of security she cast a series of spells on arrival to show she was who she presented herself to be. The agents who were present on her arrival cast their own spell series to assure her of their own identities. They used to be less cautious but one too many times Harriet had been stabbed in the back when people assumed that someone wearing the right face meant they were who they appeared to be.
With precautions out of the way the guards stood at attention.
“Ma’am,” welcomed ‘Martin’ who in his life outside of the ICW was Damian Oldicast.
As an added layer to her disguise Harriet spoke with a twisted American accent. A voice which hinted to travel and was hard to nail down. “Send out an alert to all priority five and above contacts. Intelligence has been given which suggests fulfillment of the prophecy is about to begin. They should be preparing for the possibility of invasion, possibly via portal, as early as within the next twenty-four hours. All commanders and trainees for the Convergence are to go on call.”
“Ma’am,” Martin repeated this time in confusion.
“They may not have been expecting to be put to use for some time yet but we can consider this a vital test run. If there is an attack, whether by portal or not, we are going to have concerns about containment, evacuation, and contamination. They are the only ones with training to handle this on such short notice with the global reach to compensate for the fact that we don’t know where the threat will be coming from.”
“Yes, ma’am,” Martin replied with a nod. Leaving him to give out the orders necessary to see it done Harriet headed down the hall to her private communications room. With the call going out there were some very important people who would be looking to talk to her. Surrounded by private communication mirrors she stood at rest stoically waiting for the calls to come in. It didn’t take long.
Unsurprisingly it was those for whom it was not the middle of the night that were the first to ring. With strained patience Harriet dealt with those who were frazzled or in denial of the news she was sending their way. Those who despite their concerns responded with competence and professionalism Harriet worked with gratefully. Thankfully by the time one particular mirror blinked to life Blaise had arrive ‘in uniform’ and was waiting at Harriet’s back, ready to take over fielding the calls.
Declaring her need to step out to those she was in conversation with Harriet handed matters over to Blaise while taking the waiting mirror off to her office.
Setting the mirror on her desk Harriet answered the call.
Taking the reflections place a familiar face materialized.
“Madam Smith,” the caller greeted with a nod.
“Councilwoman Carter,” Harriet greeted with a nod of her own for the former agent and co-founder of S.H.I.E.L.D.