A different point of view
In the American Ministry of Magic, a group of people sat in a conference room. Director Fury was one of them and looked at the people around him. A man with long black hair and a hooked nose. That must be the potions dude. A man with platinum blond hair and an eye mask. He couldn’t tell who that was. He chuckled inwardly at the eyepatch. Seemed like even in the magical world, eyes could not be saved. He wondered how the man lost his eye. Next was a woman with a huge head of frizzy hair and beside her, sat the man who started this whole mess... Tom Riddle. The Dark Lord Voldemort. At first glance, a normal guy, but after all the years Fury was in charge of an intelligence agency, he knew that the most normal-looking people were often the most dangerous.
So this was the man who had murdered Potter's parents. Who had used the girl to get a body again. He didn't look like the girl had described him. Dark hair, stylishly cut. Brown eyes, straight nose, handsome guy though. Potter had described him as a snake like, creepy dude, with no nose, bald, arms and legs too long.
His colleague, DuCastra, the head of the American Aurors, was a man who, like Fury, was a seasoned veteran. Son of a wizard and a muggle woman. He had been to Ilvermorny and then served in the US Navy. After a few years, he had had enough and with the rank of commander, he retired from the navy and went to work in the magical community.
Fury had come into contact with DuCastra after Alexis's outburst, who introduced him to the secret society that lived among the Muggles. The American Ministry of Magic, like the Muggle counterpart, also operated from Washington, and the Aurors' main office was located in the FBI office. Wizards in America were also more modern than British wizards, who according to DuCastra still lived in the Stone Age, with parchment and quill to write with.
While Fury was watching everything, Hermione looked over at him. She beckoned him to the side of the room and he decided to listen to her.
‘I'm sorry about earlier sir, my uhm... enthusiasm,’ she began. ‘I went to school with Alexis and I disappointed her like many others and I just want to know how she is.’ Her tone was serious, with a pleading undertone. She seemed genuine.
Fury looked at her. ‘And yet I wonder, miss Granger,’ he started. ‘You are together with the man who murdered her parents. Or am I wrong? You are together, aren't you?’ His tone was neutral, with and accusing undertone. Two could play that game.
Hermione blushed. ‘He's changed, it wasn't even really his fault. Didn't they tell you that he and I don't know how many others were victims of Albus Dumbledore?’ Her voice rose. ‘That huge...bastard manipulated everyone and played with people's lives. Tom is not innocent, but he is not the one responsible for the deaths of James and Lily Potter.’
The room was silent after that outburst. The man with the black curtain of hair looked pained and Riddle shook his head, stood up, and walked over to Hermione. ‘That is not entirely true love. Whether I was under compulsion or not...I killed her parents and I will answer for that to her.’ He took her hand and kissed her on the temple.
Fury looked to DuCastra, who nodded. ‘Take a seat, I will tell you what I can.’ Everyone took their seats, except Fury, who stood there for a moment. He took a device Tony had developed from his pocket and shone it on the white wall opposite the table.
On the wall appeared Steve Rogers. ‘This is Steve Rogers, better known as Captain America. First successful super soldier...’
On the other side of the city, in Stark Tower, also known as the headquarters of The Avengers, Neville Longbottom stood at the door. At his side were two Aurors. ‘I think I can handle it, thank you.’
‘We are waiting for you here, sir.’ Neville nodded and entered the building. A modern look, white colors, marble, white benches. It was luxurious. At the reception sat a lady with red hair and a dark jacket with a business card. Jeannie, it read.
‘Hello ma'am, I understood that I had to be here for Alexis Potter. Could you let her know that I am here, I would like to talk to her.’ The woman gave him a look, that reminded him of Minerva. ‘Just a moment.’
She picked up the phone and asked something to a certain Jarvis.
‘You are being picked up. You can wait at the elevator.’ Neville nodded kindly, thanked her, and walked to the elevator, next to the reception.
When the elevator doors opened, a man stepped out, who was at least a head taller than Neville. He was enormous, with arms like tree trunks, blond long hair, and he wore some kind of armor with a red cape. In his hand, he held a hammer. He looked at Neville grimly.
‘I have been asked to escort you to Lady Potter but I warn you, warlock, if you come here with evil intentions, you will regret it.’
Even his voice was thunderous and Neville realized that this must be Thor, God of Thunder. The brother of the man who had destroyed half of New York a few years ago. However, Neville was a Gryffindor and no longer the timid boy who was afraid of his own shadow. He looked at Thor with a broad smile and stepped into the elevator. He swallowed his nerves and held out his hand. ‘Lord Neville Longbottom, what a pleasure to meet you.’ Thor clearly hadn't expected this by he look on his face. He looked a bit sheepishly at the outstretched hand. He looked p at Neville’s face and after a few seconds, he also extended his hand and shook Neville's.
The elevator jolted and there was a ping, indicating that they had arrived. The men let go of each other and when the doors opened, Neville looked into a room that looked like a laboratory.
He looked straight ahead and saw Alexis. Black hair, pale face, Avada Kedavra green eyes, without glasses. She wasn't as thin anymore and looked at him with a questioning look. Before he could say anything himself, she asked him what had come out of the closet during Professor Lupin's class, in their third year.
He couldn't help himself and burst out laughing. ‘Ah yes, that was Professor Snape in my grandmother's clothes. I don't think he'll ever forgive me for that.’