Murphys law: Anything that can go wrong, will go wrong

Harry hated travelling by magical means.

There was no doubt about it anymore; how could he keep ignoring it? The fact was staring him right in his face! It almost made Harry laugh, and he would have done just that if his mouth were not firmly shut, keeping the vile bile that was rebelling against him down in his stomach.

He could honestly say that he hated it with a burning passion from Helheim itself – this method included - as like every other type of magical transportation, this one left him feeling sick and unsteady. If he had to compare the feeling to something, then world-walking was quite similar to how being thrown in a washing machine and then wrung out to dry on a racket probably felt. Combine that lovely feeling, with the sensation of being dropped from 10 000ft in between the washing and drying sessions, and the entire ordeal became so much worse.

Yeah, he could certainly say that he hated it.

The moment his feet had touched the bathroom floor, as he stumbled out of the portal, gravity had tripped him over, and he ended up kissing the ground. Harry held back the giggling sound that threatened to come out, as the notion of success invaded him amidst his other strange feelings. Walking on the pathway was almost like stepping on some kind of foam. His feet had been steadily moving forward, but at the same time, it felt like they were made of sponges. It was a bizarre experience, especially considering that he only had to take two steps through the opening before landing on the floor in what he believed was a New York airport.

Harry's whole world spun, and he forced his head between his legs in a weak attempt to ground himself. Yep, this was it. He should have expected the dizzying sickness that now overtook him. Harry would kill Loki when he got his hands on him; there was no way that the trickster would have forgotten to tell him that little detail. But on the bright side, now Harry knew that magic transport in any of its forms, didn't, and probably would never, agree with him.

When his head finally stopped spinning, Harry felt that he once again had a steady grip on reality. He swallowed the horrible taste that had infested his mouth, before rising to his feet and exhaling. Harry closed his eyes. He could feel the difference in the energy swirling around him, clashing against his senses like waves on a beach. It was foreign, yet still had that same tingling feeling that it had in England.

Did this same energy connect the world? If he wanted to travel to another realm, could he do it using this? It was said that there was a grimoire, the Book of Mimers, that explained the connection in more detail. But from what Harry could dig out from Harald's memories, he knew that, thanks to the Yggdrasil, there were only two known types of connections between the nine realms.

One was a direct connection, like a teleportation method with one door that could open and close at will, allowing the opener to travel to any place they wanted. The user needed to know how to open up the portal and direct the energy to where it was supposed to go. It was

probably this connection that Loki had stumbled upon in his youth. Loki had called it a 'shortcut,' but in reality, it was more like an unstable bridge between realms.

Harry remembered vaguely that it had something to do with the world's ley lines and the energy in question. Both Harald and Loki had been creatures of magic so they could tap into that kind of power. The question was if any Æsir could tap into the energy with training, or was it perhaps a trait that only Seiðr could inherit? He had never heard of any others doing this, not even the all-mother, who was seen as one of the most skilled Seiðr Harald had known at that time.

Both Harald and Loki could do it apparently without a problem; perhaps it was a Seiðmann thing. Although there weren't many of them to begin with, and there weren't many scholars that could see it as a benefit to try and find the long lost grimoire of Mimers. Especially not when practicing magic was seen as a feminine trait and considered unmanly. However, that

had never stopped Harald's parents from loving him or made them shun him for it, yet, sadly, the same could not be said for Loki's position back on Asgard. Reminded of what he was thinking about, Harry remembered the other functional path, the second way to use the pathways, a more indirect energy connection.

The Bifrost.

It had only one permanent foci point that could open a temporary portal to any destination of the guardian's choosing. Once the portal had faded, usually within seconds of arrival, it could not be summoned directly, and it required a cool-down period.

But, there was a catch. If the permanent connection lost its stability and foci point, only dark magic could reactivate the link. And the more time between arrival and departure, the more dark magic required to open it back up at the same origin if the foci were not there, directing

it. There was a reason why dark magic was forbidden. However, not even Loki knew what the fallout of using that kind of magic would be. Besides, only the Allfather was known to have the power needed to control the amount of dark magic necessary to force the connection open.

Not that this was anything Harry had to worry about in the near future. The Bifrost was not going to break, and the Asgardians would continue to find excuses to throw banquets and drink. Nevertheless, if Heimdall were watching over the nine realms, why hadn't Asgard done anything to stop Loki or sent Thor to stop him before this whole thing got out of hand.

That made Harry pause; why hadn't Asgard done something about this mess? He looked up at his reflection in the dirty mirror, watching how his pupils dilated, and an odd feeling appeared in his chest as another question emerged. Why and how had Thanos got his hand on Loki in the first place, and how could he control him? Loki was a prince of Asgard, for Merlin's sake. There was no way someone could walk into the halls and poison Loki's mind without anyone noticing and then deem him a mad man without any proof.

Harry stared at his reflection as the fact sunk in; he gritted his teeth harshly as a slow, simmering anger started to boil beneath his skin. Dark feelings begun to slip into his mind like snakes that slithered over his memories, and brought with them cold and hatred. Harry

suddenly felt the emotions snap; the sound of the shattering shards of the mirror evaded his senses as it splintered into a hundred small pieces.

Pain spread through him, pulling his consciousness right back, and he cradled his now bleeding hand closer to his chest as he stared at the broken mirror. The feeling that had invaded him was not his own. Whatever this darkness was, it came from the connection, from Loki.

Harry hissed and cast a silent 'reparo' on the mirror, watching as it mended itself, then he looked down at his bleeding hand and decided to let it be. He needed the raw feeling of pain to ground him at the moment. Whatever was going on with Loki right now was making the connection flare, and it was almost like it was trying to drag him away from his mind.

To not raise any questions over the blood that was dripping down his hand, Harry at least made the wounds coagulate, and looked over the raw cuts, checking that there was no glass in them. When he found none, he turned around and walked out of the bathroom.

There was nothing he could do here, and besides, he had a shit-ton of things on his to-do list before Ron and Hermione were due. He pulled a hand through his hair, which had now been completely released from prison. The midnight black hair framed his face as he tied it up in a messy bun, his hands trembling as he did.

Whoever it was that was messing with Loki, Thanos, or anyone else, would not be spared if he had anything to say about it. There was nothing, nothing, that could be done to make him forgive whoever had corrupted his mate's mind; he would get his revenge. But one thing at a time, first, he needed to find that trickster god, then he could go off on his crusade for vengeance.

Harry looked around as he noticed more people walking in a hurry and talking loudly to each other. He could see a big screen above his head telling everyone when particular planes would land and take off, so he noticed the flight that Ron and Hermione were on would not be here anytime soon, just as he thought. Harry went over to the nearest information point, picked up a free brochure and a map, and began to look them over.

Honestly, Harry had always wanted to travel around and do some sight-seeing. America had always been at the top of his list. Everyone had talked about the big country over the sea and said that you had to visit it at least once in your life. But after all of this, perhaps he could go elsewhere. Bring Loki with him so that they could...talk things out… Maybe Los Angeles, or Nova Scotia? He heard that it was a beautiful place at this time of the year.

Harry stared down at the map. He had so many things he needed to do, yet he had no idea where to start. It would take Ron and Hermione around 10 hours or so to get here, and if there was one thing Harry knew, it was that there was no way in the nine realms he could stay put for that long. Harry nibbled on his thumb as his head was filled with all kinds of different possibilities and thoughts.

He needed to figure out what to do right now. What if something more had happened to Loki than the darkness that was leaking through their connection? What if this invasion occurred

before they had a chance to stop him? What if he wasn't strong enough to help Loki? Harry immediately shook his head at that thought; even if he weren't, he would do everything he could.

One thing was for sure; he wouldn't be able to wait here. Harry had never been someone to sit and do nothing; if his body couldn't work, then his brain would take over. And the last thing he wanted was to be left alone with only his thoughts and memories for company.

Harry mentally snorted at his thinking as he walked among the muggles. It wasn't a bad thing honestly; he could suddenly process a lot of information simultaneously. It was as if his brain had upgraded to a Harry 2.0 version or something, probably after his 'awakening', but then again, it didn't matter. There were still too many 'what ifs' for his liking. It was like opening a box of Bertie Bott's Every Flavour Beans. You never knew what you were going to get before you chewed on it, and then it was too late to do anything about it.

He rubbed his neck as he suddenly felt a glace directed at him. Harry let his viridian-green eyes sweep over the crowd of muggles. His gaze landed on a group of women, who, as soon as he looked at them, turned away with low gasps and looked at each other, tittering. Harry frowned a little awkwardly and withdrew, the feeling of someone looking at him sweeping over him yet again as he did. Maybe he should put on a disguise? What if someone had recognized him already and was on their way to report it to the government?

In the end, Harry decided against it and only used a simple notice-me-not. Suddenly, his magic started to tingle without warning, and soon after, there was a pull on the connection that made him jerk to the side in both surprise and pain. It was like Loki was there one second and then gone the next, and it was sending his core into a frenzied fit. Like Loki was calling on him, and then second-guessed himself and slammed the connection shut again.

That's another thing Harry had to figure out. What had happened to split their connection like this? What had held them together from the beginning? If he was the reincarnation of Harald, why was it all happening right now and not before? And why were his memories like they were? Coming and going as they wanted. Even now, Harry could feel how broken his mind was, how it almost felt like his soul still wasn't whole. Not his to use.

His magic itched all over his body, and he could not get rid of the feeling of danger that was rising inside of him. Harry turned towards the exit; he could easily get back before their plane landed. And besides, maybe he could search for useful information and see if he could find any clues about what was happening.

With a determined smile, he let his feet take him out of there, and as soon as the automatic glass doors closed behind him, a whole new world opened up to him. At least that was how it felt for him. After staying away from people and significant places in general after the war, London was the only 'big city' he had had any experience with before New York.

So there was absolutely nothing that could prepare him for the sight that met him outside the airport's protective doors. As soon as he was out, he started to walk. The sound of engines was everywhere. People argued and shouted at each other, and others held up their hands to call over taxis.

Harry decided he could start his search more quickly if he took the bus into the big city. Yet, as he stared at the transportation, he could not help but hesitate for just a second. He wasn't stupid, he knew how it worked, but there was a difference between knowing the theoretical aspect of something and the hands-on life experience. All his knowledge about buses, as the Dursleys had never given him any money to ride one before, was based on the knight bus. And that particular form of magical transportation, had not made a great impression; it had been quite a bumpy ride.

Inside, the bus was full of muggles, and the air was almost suffocating with an odd smell that made his already rebellious stomach cringle. He swept his eyes over the masses before sitting down in an empty seat.

Harry felt a cold shiver slide down his spine, his eyes narrowing as the shiver travelled through him. He fixed his gaze on the outside world as he tried to sense anything else, but he could only register a slight flicker of magic that licked his skin the wrong way. However, perhaps it was not him feeling it. He had been feeling the broken connection he had with Loki open and close all afternoon, and he could still feel that sucking feeling behind his navel even now. What the hell was Loki doing?

As the bus rolled away, Harry felt the feeling - dimmed, but not unnoticeable - of being watched yet again. Once the bus crossed a large bridge, he could see how the city grew in front of him, and the feeling of being watched disappeared entirely, like it never had been there; Harry would be lying if he said it didn't almost make him freak out. It was better to feel something than the numbness that was setting in.

Muggles littered the sidewalks as they went about their day, motor vehicles pressed together like sardines in a box. He could see people shouting at each other and making crude hand gestures when someone forced themselves into a tight spot.

Still, he would not let his guard down, and he could not enjoy his first glimpse of the large high-rise buildings that welcomed him. The more central the bus went, the bigger the billboards and neon signs became. Muggles adorned every little road on their way to and from their destinations. Harry followed the stream of people with his gaze before pushing himself against the window and trying to see the top of the large high-rise buildings with a small smile.

Suddenly, he could feel a cold sweat break out on the nape of his neck, and he instinctively stiffened. They had been traveling without stopping for a while now, and he knew that this was not his anxiety talking, and this time, there was no reaction from Loki. So it had to be his instincts, warning him about an immediate danger.

The question was who, or what was making his magic go on high alert. Harry's hand came to rest on his wand, his skin had now started to crawl, and his muscles shivered. Harry stared down at his arms and frowned at his behavior. It was like his senses knew something he didn't and were trying to warn him.

Harry looked up with his gaze again. He couldn't stay on the bus; here, he would be a sitting

duck if anything happened. Not only that, all the muggles would get in the way. So at the next stop, he jumped off and quickly joined the stream of people without another thought. The smell of greasy food hit his now heightened senses, and exhaust fumes and perfume stood out in the crowd as he cast a new wandless notice-me-not.

Harry could feel the intensity of his magic increase and swore lowly. He pushed past people, and some shouted angrily after him but were ignored. Was it perhaps MACUSA? Harry shot down that thought fast; it couldn't be them. He hadn't used his wand here, and it was the wand magic the government usually tracked. And, as he didn't take an international portkey, there was no chance of him having popped up on their radar.

But still, the fact was that someone was following him.

Harry could feel a headache start to build behind his eyes as his senses were beginning to overload, but he needed to do this if he wanted to have a chance to catch whoever was following him. Could he apparate? No, that was far too dangerous in an area like this; he would surely draw attention to him after that. And if MACUSA weren't aware that he was here now, they would be then.

Harry's breathing became rough as he slowly inhaled and exhaled, trying to find out what the hell was going on. He put a hand on his chest and pressed it hard into the fabric, it was like his body had a mind of its own, and his mind had lost control. He couldn't continue like this.

He looked out upon the muggles again and willed his heart to slow down, forcing his body to relax, to breathe. He could hear talking and laughing; someone was arguing nearby and he could hear snippets of news anchors talking about a team of superheroes in Germany.

The stalker was close.

Harry swore softly and went out into the crowd of muggles again; he had to get the hell out of here, and fast. He started to walk with more force, ignoring if he bumped into more people by doing so. He turned into a larger opening between the buildings and walked into a large indoor shopping center.

This was not what he had planned when he set out to find information. Damn his Potter luck; this was the last thing he needed. Why did fate hate him so? Harry walked as fast as he could to get through it all when a sudden shock went through him, and he spun around quickly with wide, open eyes. His hand rapidly pulled out his wand, ready to protect himself from the danger that had suddenly appeared right behind him.

Murphy proved himself right yet again, as his law rang true even to this moment; what could go wrong, would. In his case, the whole situation was spiraling fast. He felt how his magic boiled underneath his skin, and it was a wonder that he hadn't lost control over it yet.

Harry clenched his jaw hard as his eyes landed on the only person sticking out like a sore thumb amongst the other muggles. He could feel the dark energy pour out of her, enveloping

her, and making the areas around her lithe body much colder and darker.

The woman was wearing an elegant and most-definitely expensive, black pencil skirt that matched her curvy body shape. A white blouse was elegantly tucked into the waistband, and a black jacket, that was only buttoned under her breasts, hung around her shoulders. Her hair was tightly set in a bun, and around her neck hung a beautiful piece of gold jewellery. She was what one might call an exotic beauty, and Harry had no idea who she was. But, this was the source that had been following him and making his magic go haywire. Light-blue eyes now stared straight into his own and a smile spread on her blood-red lips, making Harry's blood freeze in his veins.

The pain inside his brain suddenly spiked, and Harry could feel dread invade his very soul. He -knew- this woman; he knew exactly who she was and why his instincts had warned him about her.

The realization made his tongue swell in his mouth, and not a single sound managed to leave his vocal cords. He closed his eyes when he felt how his magic was being thrown out of him. TV screens in shop windows began to flicker, people looked at their phones in annoyance when they stopped working all of a sudden, and glass panes began to shake.

Suddenly, it was like everything around him was too loud. Harry could hear every freaking thing, and the light was almost blinding as his magic spiked, making everything around them explode. People started to scream in fright, feet were running away from the impact, and the sparking of the electronics' fried circuits made a dramatic conclusion to the chaos around them.

Harry tried to get air into his lungs, but it felt like they had turned to stone together with his body that refused to move even an inch. He could only stare at the woman who was now studying him with a curious look that soon turned into a darker one, like all the color had drained from them and amusement had turned cold. There was no doubt about it; his instincts and magic had recognized the threat she posed to him without Harry himself realizing it.

"Well, would you look at that." The woman's voice was smooth and had an undertone that Harry could only compare to small bells. If he didn't had such bad history with her, he would indeed have found it pleasant.

Now, it only sent painful flashes along his nerves.

"I knew you were alive; how could I not?" The woman continued, not having noticed the state her appearance had left Harry in. She took a step forward, and Harry felt how his body suddenly, automatically, moved back to put more distance between them.

"I felt your magic come from Loki hours ago, I'm still surprised that it had leaked through him, but I'm glad that it did."

Harry could taste his fear on the tip of his tongue, and he had never felt this kind of dread before. It was like his heart was trying to explode inside his chest; not even when he walked

to his death at Voldemort's hand had he felt like this. This was a completely different type of fear. It was more profound; it was rooted in his very soul.

The woman stopped, and the smile suddenly showed a row of perfect, white teeth as she took in his reaction and chuckled.

"What is this? Are you afraid of little old me?" She tilted her head to the side and put a finger to her chin as if she were thinking about something.

"You are a hard one to kill, aren't you, my dear Harald? You are like one of those Midgardian animals, a cockroach? Yes, a cockroach, you would stay still and be crushed." She shook her head, hair bouncing as she did, "you should have stayed dead; it would have been so much better for you. But then again, I know that my master was very impressed with your.... trick." She made a face as if she had eaten something vile.

Harry tried to open his mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out of his vocal cords. He could feel the walls closing in on him. The tingling in his limbs was increasing; it felt like a thousand needles stuck into his skin, every little nerve agitated, and an unnatural wind began to circle him. His eyes had assumed an almost neon green hue, and suddenly his magic pulsed outward more strongly than ever before.

"If it were up to me, you would be dead before your pretty head could even understand what happened," she spoke as if nothing had happened and Harry's magic wasn't going out of control right in front of her.

Windows exploded outwards; people continued screaming out in the street and running around from the new, invisible threat. The light above them blew out with a simple pulse of his magic, and the woman laughed, delighted by the show that was happening in front of her.

She was thriving in his fears.

"What is this? You have always been one for dramatics, but has a cat got your tongue?" She looked at him in amusement, ignoring the chaos around them. "Are you not even going to say anything to me, sweetie?"

Harry forced himself to take a deeper breath; his head felt like it was miles away from his body. However, he finally started to get a grip of himself; he was not the same as before. He was no longer Harald; he was Harry, the boy who lived, who had been in a war and come out on top of it. He could handle a simple, psychopathic woman he once called family; he would not let her win.

"Even that husband of yours was more fun to look at as he struggled with his insanity." Harry blinked. What?

"Oh? a reaction!" The woman grinned delightedly. "Yes, yes, of course! You both are so tightly bonded to each other." Her smile turned more deadly. "I remember how he pleaded

for you each night as he was plagued with nightmares. Begging you not to leave him, to stay," she sighed, "you broke his fragile, little heart."

"What... have you done?" Harry forced out, but his words were ignored.

"I have to thank you though, without your so-called sacrifice, I would never have had the chance to sew the seed of insanity in him."

It felt like the air inside his lungs had now also turned to ice. Each breath was forced out, raw and painful. He could not let her words get to him. Loki was alive; they could fix this. Whatever she had done, they could fix it.

Probably.

Harry took another slow, deep breath; his gaze, filled with panic a moment ago, was now full of determination.

"Tell me where Loki is, Sigrud," he heard himself say, like they weren't his own words. He moistened his dry lips. He could handle this. Everything was different this time; he was no longer the same.

Sigrud laughed at his words, "and pray tell, why would I do that?" She asked, crossing her arms under her breasts. "You are not going to get to him either way."

Harry felt his head starting to come back more, as he gained control over his mind and body. "No more games," his wand was now held in front of him, ready to blast her into oblivion,

The smile slowly disappeared from the lips of the black-haired beauty but stopped before it disappeared completely. "I never play games," Sigrud said with a shrug, "I only make an observation, and you, are in a dire position." They were now alone in the mall; sirens could be heard outside the broken window but were ignored by them both.

"Says who? I'm no longer the person I was before," Harry shot back, the words came more freely now, and he no longer was stuck inside his fears. He could do this; he had to.

"Oh, I can see that." Sigrud held out her hand, and Harry could see a spell forming on her lips. He was ready to start the fight.

"But it matters little. You are still going to die by my hand after I get what I need." Sigrud's smile deepened into a disgusting sneer.

Harry was ready to get over with this whole damn thing and get Loki back from wherever he was. And when he did, he would give that demi-god a piece of his mind for all the trouble he had found him in. But before Harry could even think of a spell or even what action to take, his head started to throb in pain and the sucking sensation he had been feeling for a while now, built up inside his stomach.

His whole world was suddenly turned upside down and inside out simultaneously as he felt a

second heart beating in his chest, and all the air left his lungs as the attack from Sigrud came towards him fast. Harry made his body dodge it but, at that moment, lost his footing and tumbled away. He could feel how Loki's magic enveloped him. It called to him like nothing before ever had, and he now recognized the warning that the feeling gave him about what would happen.

Harry's eyes widened in shock at the bad timing, no, no, no, this could not be happening right now.

Harry took a staggering step back and brought a hand up to his head to try to prevent what he knew was coming. Loki could not be serious; he could not do it right now. Harry tried to hold his wand in front of him and tried to fire a spell to duel his aunt as she now had started to shoot at him again.

He tried to ignore the soul calling his mate was doing. He felt terrible for doing it, but this was possibly the worst possible moment to go soul searching for Loki or whatever it was called. But Harry had never felt this powerful attraction before, this painful plea for stability, for something to hold on to, to make him whole again. It was a mental pain that made his stomach turn inside out.

Harry could not remember if he was vomiting or not, but the taste invaded his tongue in any case, and his vision darkened. It was like his magic was screaming at him for something that could remove this pain that was pulsating through his tired body. Another flash of pain, and this time his vision went white. Harry took a step back, his body feeling lighter, and with a shaky sigh, he tried to focus on the danger in front of him, but the pull was getting harder and harder to resist.

Before Harry knew it, he had fallen to the ground, and the last thing he saw was a pair of red, high-heeled shoes walking towards him, and a mischievous laugh echoed in his ears. The final thought he had was how Hermione would kill him if he survived this situation, then the darkness closed in around him, and he fell into the connection of his soul mate.