Hawkeye/Harry Potter - Harry Potter/Avengers
Hell Entry #2
Welcome back, Traveler.
This next scroll was found smoldering in the corner. It is but a fragment, a piece. A single paragraph scribbled in a fugue state and taped into a burrito wrapper.
The rest?
A plot bunny with blood on its paws.
It's still forming, still twitching.
But be warned: this one is tangled in red string and arrows...
Enjoy
Summary:
After the Department of Mysteries, Harry is lost, angry, drowning in grief. With Sirius gone, the Dursley's grow bolder, until someone answers Harry's desperate call.
Someone loud, violent, and armed.
Years later, the war is over, and Harry is finally free of the shackles that bound his fate.
But a phone number still haunts his steps.
So he moves to New York, searching for the mysterious mercenary who helped when he needed it most.
Along the way, he meets a deadly archer with perfect aim.
And Harry is about to learn that sometimes the arrow you were chasing... was pointed straight at you all along.
Preservation Note:
This entry, unlike the first, is but a mere fragment, preserved in its raw, cursed form.
One paragraph. One concept.
It deserves to fester exactly as it is.
Shot in the Dark
(working title, subject to change)
Harry slumbered away, unaware that below his feet, his uncle was in the process of choking to death. Of course, his death was definitely helped along by the admittedly stacked mercenary currently squeezing his throat.
The Plot Bunny
henceforth to be called
Spark Bunny
Harry is fifteen and has just lost his godfather at the ministry. His summer with the Dursley's becomes worse without the threat of Sirius hanging over them.
One morning, he goes to the library, desperate for any thread of help. In the process, he locates a mysterious number signed only:
-W.W.
Years later, still haunted, still searching for W.W., Harry moves to New York.
He stumbles, entirely by accident, into the orbit of the Avengers. Tripping head first into found family, chaos, and a bow wielding man who can't seem to stay out of air vents.
Maybe, just maybe, Harry's finally found where he belongs.
A final note from the Crypt Keeper
A so another entry is carved into stone, laid forever at rest within the halls of Drabble Hell.
Short, sharp, and suspiciously burrito-adjacent.
Somewhere in the void, a Dursley is dead, a phone is still ringing, and Harry Potter is sleeping through the beginning of a crisis.
This tale may be brief, but don't be fooled. There is blood in its teeth and arrows in its shadow.
More will come.
The mercenary always returns.
And the archer? He's already watching.
Stay cursed, stay curious...
And also, if you ever find a number signed "-W.W."... maybe don't call it.
-𝓣𝓱𝓮 𝓒𝓻𝔂𝓹𝓽 𝓚𝓮𝓮𝓹𝓮𝓻
(Guardian of Fragments. Smuggler of Spark Bunnies. Operator of Untraceable Hotlines.)