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Mystique Soldier

"Hail, Hydra." The Emerald-eyed boy intoned, cold and emotionless. Just like a perfect soldier should. They'd done their best to turn him into an unstoppable force. Their uprising was sure to be swift and smooth. Unfortunately for Hydra, another power has already dug it's claw into the boy. A power higher than even gods. The power of a Gamer. Cold/Unstable Harry, Gamer Harry, Alive!Potters, Alive Voldemort, Smut?

Robs511 · Movies
Not enough ratings
50 Chs

Chapter 39

AN: Sedition beta'd at the last moment, a massive thnx to him!

My discord: discord .gg/9wpfysDGsz to discuss fics and chill.

My Pat reon: www. Pat reon com/ Robs511 (No spaces and a dot before com) for anyone who wants to read upto the next three chaps of all my fics.

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With a tired sigh and a long popping stretch, Steve Rogers plopped his butt down on the sofa, absently dropping a massive file on a nearby stool.

People generally considered his work as Director of S.H.I.E.L.D. to simply be one of ordering everyone else around...and usually they would be right—his work was relatively popcorns compared to some truly demanding work.

But some days...some days made him wish to be back in the forefronts, grinding down mission after mission to actively put some effort in making the world a safer place; to actually go out there on the field, and make a real difference.

Sadly, that would most likely never come to pass again, and he would have to make do with being bogged down by the latest list of mission approval applications, along with grim news that he wouldn't mind delaying dealing with for another decade or so.

'At least Harry's letter is a huge relief.'

It was surprising, really. Steve had expected the boy to empty his S.H.I.E.L.D account of all his money, burn down all the contacts, and disappear away in the world like the next day's gust of wind, never to be seen again.

And if he was seen again, it would probably be as the leader of some gang dealing in illegal business.

Steve had feared a day where he would've had to admit that he'd made a mistake with letting the boy go, and confront him personally to gain absolution from his mistakes.

Ares wasn't truly a God-fearing man, but he'd still given a swift prayer of thanks to the almighty when he received Harry's letter. Although why the boy felt the need to contact him through a letter was a little bit of a mystery to him..

'Probably some magical tradition.'

Shaking his head, Steve leaned forward and brought the heavy file to his lap, intending to finish today's work before going to bed.

The first order of business was a pleasant one, shooing away some of his misery as he held onto the invitation card of Melinda May's upcoming wedding. It was supposed to be a small ceremony, with only a few close friends invited to the occasion. Though he did feel a little sad at rejecting her request for Harry's presence.

Apart from him and Kara Palamas, May was the closest to Harry.

Unfortunately, he no longer held any sort of authority over the boy. From the time he'd spent with him, Steve knew Harry was a mercenary through and through. To bring him back here, he would need to promise a reward that surpasses what one of the most famous magical schools in the world could provide.

And Steve wasn't too confident about being able to do that.

Releasing a deep sigh, he moved onto his next assignment.

"...No sign of Hulk for the last two months..." Steve muttered, eyes quickly flickering through the text—and growing more and more irritated by the second.

"Require immediate action? What the hell am I supposed to do...arm wrestle the beast into submission?..."

His opinion of the US Army had soured a lot in the last few decades. It wasn't simply the general incompetence and the failure to deal with things on their own, it was the rampant corruption and politics that should never have touched the Army that plummeted his opinion of them into the ground.

Yawning, he wiped a tear from his watery eyes and squinted at the next subject—also the one that had kept him awake late at night for the past week or so.

It was the final document that needed his approval for the Budapest operation. Once done, the mission would go live officially.

Yet, the document had remained unsigned for the past week, for he found himself... hesitant.

Steve knew that every mission above a certain level contained a degree of lethal threat. In their line of work, it was impossible to avoid casualties, and beating himself up over every dead agent wasn't something Ares was supposed to do.

But that did not mean they couldn't reduce the chances of it happening in the first place. With proper planning, accurate intelligence, and the general competence of the agents, any mission could have greatly reduced chances of casualties.

But the Budapest mission was a shot in the dark. Their information was limited, and limited information meant inaccurate planning. No matter how competent his agents were, there was a very high risk of death…unless he arranged for some precautions.

It had all started when Natasha Romanoff and Clint Barton managed to track down a supply of red dust—something Steve had been researching about for the past decade—in Morocco.

What should've been a simple locate and retrieve mission turned out to be an extended battle that ended with them gaining a new Black Widow—Oksana—Natasha discovering her former best friend's alive status, the said friend stealing the crate of Red Dust, and the chilling fact that there's an army of Black Widows at large in the world finally coming to light.

All in all, it had proved to be just as much of a headache as Steve had imagined it to be.

A couple of weeks later, S.H.I.E.L.D managed to track down Natasha's former friend in Budapest—hiding in a safe house and waiting for them to arrive, with instructions for Romanoff to come alone if she wanted the 'truth'.

But Steve wasn't convinced. While he would like to trust in Romanoff's judgment, the entire thing came off as a trap to his senses; and that's where his hesitation came from.

They were blundering into this blindly, and while Natasha and Clint were highly competent agents, they wouldn't last long in front of an army of Black Widows.

He'd thought about joining them personally, but doubted their target would stick around if she got even a wisp of his presence.

The next plan was to send Ghost, but she was simply too young and inexperienced for such a mission.

Hiring a random wizard would not work either. The second article of the 1954 peace pact made sure that he would need to inform the American Ministry about the mission before even thinking about hiring one of them.

Which was a complication he was unwilling to create.

Releasing a deep breath, Steve closed the file, throwing it back upon the stool.

Times like these made him wonder how easier things could've been, if he had someone like Harry to deploy.

Someone young enough to be underestimated by even the more experienced of agents, and strong enough to punish such false assumptions.

While he did not like the idea of sending a young child into danger, Steve had to admit Harry was the perfect field agent anyone could ask for.

And at other times, he would simply harden his heart and leave the decision upon the young boy's shoulders. After all—child or not—he was still a contracted agent, and it was Steve's duty to update him of any suitable missions.

But one thing stopped him short, making him hesitant about this course of action...a piece of news Counsellor Hawley had relayed to him recently.

Harry Dursley's true name...Potter.

Harry Potter.

Steve hadn't registered the name the first time he was informed about it. But the thorough research he'd recently done into the subject revealed everything he wished to know and more.

To think the savior of the magical world would turn into a Hydra agent, before eventually defecting to S.H.I.E.L.D...and all this before the age of nine...

It simply did not make sense, even within his own mind. He knew wizards, had met and worked with several of them, so the idea that they would carelessly let their own savior be kidnapped spoke of the type of incompetence he cannot accept from them.

'Still, hesitating about this isn't going to do anything.'

He would have to write a letter anyway. Perhaps he could subtly inform him of the mission...

But before that, he would first need to arrange a meeting with the British Minister of Magic, Albus Dumbledore.

A good thing then that they were companions once...over half a century ago, that is.

'….Hopefully the old warlock still recognizes me.'

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The Room of Requirement was said to be the greatest thing to happen to Hogwarts for the past decade. A Room that changed according to its user's wishes, a room that could provide one with everything they'd ever dreamt of…

And, as Nymphadora Tonks liked to believe, a room that could transform a talented dueler into a brilliant one.

She wasn't the only one either. May it be dueling, learning, or simply wanting comfort, to the heavier tasks of spell-creation, potion-creation, or magical researching…the room could provide any wizard or witch with exactly what they may need, or imagined they need.

Which was why it was no surprise that dueling has become as important in Hogwarts as quidditch.

Ever since the former Headmaster—now Minister—first revealed the existence of the Room, and created these bi-annual dueling tournaments to win a chance of using it, the students and staff of Hogwarts had started pouring no small amount of effort in bettering themselves—or their students—in the arts of dueling.

Luckily for Tonks, she'd always wanted to be an Auror, so when the tournaments had started back in her second year, she'd been much more ready than the rest of her classmates, quickly finding herself fighting within the big leagues alongside Bill and Charlie Weasley.

But it was in her fourth year that their team finally managed to win for the first time. Just one day inside the Room, and Tonks knew how crucial it could be for her career. Her fifth year had seen her progressing in the arts of Dueling at a breathtaking speed, as she used the Room's excellent features to the very extreme.

Not for long though.

Bill Weasley left that very year, and Charlie became more interested in beasts than dueling. Before she knew it, she became the team leader of a team missing two of its core members.

Naturally, they didn't win that year. Or the next year. Or the year after that. Each year she would start with grand hopes of reclaiming the Room, and each year she would fail.

Instead, for the past three years, the same team had dominated the tournament over and over again, maintaining their tight grasp over the room. How can a team with as rubbish a name as 'The Greatest Team Ever' win three bloody times back to back? Tonks didn't know.

'Probably something to do with that horrid Snyde girl.' Thank Merlin she was gone.

Now exactly two months had passed since Tonks took the decision of staying back at Hogwarts for another year; there was simply no way she could leave the school without entering the Room of Requirement once again.

This year was supposed to be hers. She'd planned it all out—Percy, Penelope, Eleanor, Tamsin, and herself...add a couple of talented third years and boom! The cup was theirs!

Sadly it all came falling down when that git Weasley and his little girlfriend Clearwater suddenly broke off and went on to make their own team. And this too after she'd informed them of her decision!

'The nerve!'

And now she was left fuming as she witnessed the git and his stupid girlfriend congratulate the Diggory boy with welcoming arms.

Cedric Diggory was the exact thing their team needed right now, but considering how familiar the boy acted with Weasley, she doubted she'd have any chance of stealing him away.

So now here she was, desperately looking for any talented duelist to recruit. She doubted anyone would join though; most of the potential team members were usually buttered up since their second year.

Which—infuriatingly—meant that Weasley had been planning to break away for more than a year now, and all without even warning her!

"Calm down," Beside her, Eleanor patted her shoulders comfortingly. "I'm sure we'll find someone."

Tonks stared at her with helpless eyes. "You don't really believe that, do you? We need someone like Diggory. And right now! I'll take Flint anytime, you could hold Farley, Tamsin can be trained up to match Pucey. But Bole? Warrington? Who will take them without Percy or Penelope? We're lucky Higgs and Snyde left, or that stupid team would've earned their name by this year. Can you imagine Snyde's smug face?"

Eleanor giggled. "You know, I can see why Charlie said you looked cute all bothered up."

"Don't you dare get me started on that prick! Why couldn't he come back for a year? It's not like dragons are going to vanish suddenly."

Up ahead, Diggory finally managed to pierce through Montague's defense, a stray Depulso pushing the boy out of bounds.

"Another point to Cedric Diggory!" Lupin announced and the match concluded with a 2-0 for Cedric.

"What about Graham?" Eleanor asked idly, as the next match between Lee Jordan and Katie Bell was announced.

"Didn't you see him getting his arse whooped just now?"

"Yeah, but he held his own quite well for the first round. And we can't afford to be picky, Tonks. We still have four more spots to fill."

Tonks thought about it for a second before shaking her head. "Even with a few months of training, I just don't see him taking Warrington, let alone Bole."

"Maybe not. But remember, T-G-T-E also needs two more members. If we don't, they'll probably take him in."

"Montague is a Slytherin, Eli." Tonks sighed. "Even if we wanted him, he'll probably join the enemy before us."

"Oh. Well…that's a bummer."

This time the match ahead was much closer and balanced. Katie Bell was a talented duelist that would no doubt become a central part of any team in a few years.

Unfortunately for her, she was lacking the experience needed to duel a third year like Jordan.

The match ended with a score of 2-1 when Jordan managed to finally cinch a win in the third round. Tonks thought about recruiting the boy, or even the girl, but the Gryffindor Quidditch team was suddenly pulling them in their group. And considering how agreeable both of them looked, Tonks doubted they'd want to join her.

"The next contestants, please arrive on stage!" Lupin announced. "Harry Potter and Roger Davies!"

"Aww, poor Boy-Who-Lived." Eleanor tutted. "That's bad luck if I've ever seen it. Getting a third year in the first round? What a shame. I'd have loved to see him progress more in the tournament."

Tonks leaned forward in interest. The-Boy-Who-Lived was a famous topic to discuss in Hogwarts. Especially when the teachers praised him so much. Getting correct transfiguration in his first class, learning spells at an absurd pace...

"We should probably ask him to join, you know?" Eleanor continued, voicing her own thoughts. "He might just be the second coming of Merlin like everyone's been saying. Who knows…he might get to around Diggory's level in a year or two."

Tonks tsked. "I don't have that much time. I can't repeat the year again without getting a dark mark on my record."

"We'll just have to see if he's any good now."

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Harry observed the celebrating Gryffindor group with a frown. It was clear to conclude that he wouldn't be needed in the team this year. And if he was, he would simply be on the reserve…unless he did something about it.

Then again, it doesn't matter if one team was full. According to the twins' explanation, there were supposed to be multiple senior teams looking for members today.

Harry simply needed to be good enough to catch the best one's eye. 'Piece of cake.'

Quest [A Terror with Wand II] in Progress!

Defeat your opponent and Qualify for the next round ( )

Defeat your opponent with a score of 2-0 ( )

Defeat your opponent without losing Health ( )

Reward:

200 XP

200 XP

200 XP

Soon, he found himself climbing upon the stage to stand beside Remus, observing his opponent with a tilted head.

The smirking Davies was flexing his arms like a kid imitating professional bodybuilders, trying to look bigger and meaner than he actually was.

His attempts to look physically intimidating just seemed pathetic, considering they were almost the same height. His friends seemed to think so too, as a series of sarcastic catcalls showered upon the boy from Ravenclaw section, leaving Davies slightly bashful…and thankfully, straight again.

Still, he didn't seem affected for too long.

"Scared Potter?" The boy smirked, cracking his neck and stretching his scrawny body. "Don't worry, we've all been there."

"I'm sure you have." Harry's lips puckered up in mild distaste. "But you should not assume that your cowardice is shared by everyone."

The boy gaped at him, staring with widened eyes as if seeing an inanimate object suddenly grow a mouth and speak.

Laughter broke out amongst the audience, while Davies' classmates yelled out mock encouragement at him. 'Show him how big and bad you are, Rogers!', 'Would you just let him take the piss out of you like that, Rog!?'

Harry snorted, enjoying the response. He was beginning to realize that he quite liked winning these verbal fights. Being able to leave your opponents floundering and embarrassed by a scant choice words….it was a different kind of fight, damaging the enemies in a different way, but can be as painful as a bullet wound if properly mastered.

The best thing? It was completely legal, as far as he knew.

Annoyance now clear on his face, Rogers turned to Remus with a scowl, urging him to start.

"Very well, let's begin." Remus held up his wand, and the crowd quietened down quickly. "Contestants, wands up."

They both followed suit.

"Bow of respect."

Then bowed slightly.

"Aaaand….start!"

Harry's battle plan was simple. Limit his physical advantage to dodging, and let his magic do the work.

So the moment Remus bellowed the words, Harry burst into motion, his eyes fixed upon his opponent.

Magic travelled from within his chest up to his arms, his will and wand movements guiding it to take form upon the tip of his Holly wood…before finally came the turn of incantation—which was supposed to turn magic into another element of the user's choice.

Two voices intoned upon the dueling stage at the same time; a calm 'Stupefy' and a loud 'Expelliarmus!'

Both the spells leapt out before they'd even finished the incantations, racing towards each other in sparks of red.

This fight was supposed to teach Harry how an older wizard—who was in the same league as him—fought: the way an older student may select their spells, the way they would cast, and where they would aim…

Harry wasn't here simply to win or dominate, but to observe his opponents in hopes of learning something.

That hope, however, came to a quick and sudden end when his opponent sprawled down upon the stage in the next second.

Harry had just side-stepped the disarming spell, his eyes focusing on his opponent to see how he would deal with it…

And it turned out; by widening his eyes and hastily trying to correct his form in panic, only to fail completely and take a stunner to the chest, bringing an end to the duel.

Harry sighed. 'Well…one can learn from others' failures as well I guess.'

Perhaps he should also restrict the stunner?

Actually, if all of his fights were fated to proceed like such, it would be better to restrict himself to only use the spells that he'd learned after coming to Hogwarts.

"One point to Harry Potter!" Remus exclaimed, his face still holding onto some incredulity. "I have to admit, that was quick work."

"Indeed, Mr. Potter!" Flitwick squeaked. "A fabulous performance! Take ten points for beating an opponent two years your senior!"

Harry nodded, waiting patiently as the tiny professor proceeded to cast Rennervate on the downed boy.

When the two opponents faced off again—this time with a much more cautious Davies—the crowd finally quietened enough for Remus to retake the reins.

"Contestants, ready yourselves for the second round."

Harry knew this one wouldn't end as quickly. Davies was alert and steady, almost standing on the balls of his feet, his eyes focused and promising vengeance.

"Let the round...begin!"

This time, Harry let the boy take the initiative of the fight….and he didn't disappoint.

"Expelliarmus–Diffindo–Totalus!"

His spells were quick and practiced, better than any other dueler Harry had seen today save for Diggory. The speed of his casting was a smidge faster as well, though not what Harry himself could manage if he started throwing the unforgivables….

He guessed the level of his spells to be between early to mid-twenties.

Without using his older skills, Harry couldn't match the boy's speed and was forced to dance around the stage as he slipped between the spells, not letting himself be boxed in.

Yet, never at any point did he feel the slightest bit of pressure. The boy may cast fast, but Harry could move faster. And when he finally did decide to attack, the match turned out like last time once again.

"Diffindo–Flippendo–Incendio!"

The three spells headed towards his opponent, who couldn't change from attacking to defending quickly enough, and was knocked back out of the stage, coincidentally avoiding the powerful gust of flames that set fire to the floor where he'd just stood.

Quest [A Terror with Wand II] Completed!

Defeat your opponent and Qualify for the next round (X)

Defeat your opponent with a score of 2-0 (X)

Defeat your opponent without losing Health (X)

Reward:

200 XP

200 XP

200 XP

"And that's done! Put your wand down! The round is over!" Lupin called out, his own wand pointing at the spreading flames even as Snape ran some damage control.

Harry complied, his wand pointing down.

Now calm, Lupin quickly approached the stage.

"Another point to Harry Potter." He announced. "That concludes the match; Harry Potter wins with the score of two-nil"

A loud 'Yay!' broke through the spectators, and Harry waited beside Lupin as he noted his name down.

"That was a good fight, Harry." The man said, eyes still on his register. "I'll admit I was worried when your name was matched with Davies. He is a skilled dueler…for a third year. You should be proud of yourself."

Harry hummed. "I simply wish to join a team."

"Oh? Already aiming for the senior league?" Remus chuckled, before his eyes flicked to the side. "Well, I guess you won't have a problem with that. Good luck for the rest of the tournament."

Harry nodded and made for his seat.

"Wotcher, Harry!" A voice as cheerful as his sister's came from behind him, stopping him in his tracks.

Harry turned around to see a pink-haired girl joining him, a cheerful smile stuck upon her heart-shaped face— sporting two noticeable dimples that made her as cute as a puppy.

"You are?" He asked with a raised eyebrow.

"Oh, Sorry! My name is Tonks. Yep, just Tonks, nothing else. It's my first and last name. So you can call me Tonks Tonks if you wish."

'Observe'

Nymphadora Tonks

Age: 18

Level: 49

"...Right. And what can I do for you?"

"I," She started, suddenly grim and serious. "Have a proposition."

Harry shrugged. "Go ahead."

"Join me, young apprentice." She suddenly whipped out a small scarf. On it were carved two initials; TT. "To walk the path of greatness...by becoming a member of the glorious team; Tonks' Team!"

Someone loudly cleared their throat behind Tonks, elbowing the girl.

"Team Tonks, Dora." The new bad-throat girl whispered.

"Oh yeah! Team Tonks!" Tonks chuckled sheepishly. "Anyway, join the team, get glory and greatness, and all that jazz. How about it?"

"Not interested." He replied drily.

"Wha—!? Why not!?"

"In glory and greatness. What else can you offer?"

The girl got serious once again, though this time it looked genuine.

Well….nearly.

"Our team is going to win the tournament this year." She declared, absolutely no doubt in her voice. "You, Harry Potter, can be a part of that."

Then she whipped out a brown box from her pocket. "And we have cookies!"

His eyes took in the two girls in front of him skeptically. Tonks was almost certainly a failure, considering her age. Either that, or her birthday was in the first two weeks of September. Should he truly throw in his lot with them? Surely he could do better...

But Tonks was also level 49. More than twice Diggory's level. Harry wouldn't be surprised if she turned out to be the highest leveled student in Hogwarts currently. How can a powerful witch like her fail? Perhaps he was missing something here.

Whatever the case, this was an opportunity he may or may not get again. Joining might just prove advantageous in the future. And he had to admit, her excitable personality that reminded him of his midget twin was just an added bonus that might be playing a role in his decision.

Still, he wasn't going to make this decision without some concrete merits.

"Tell me everything."