When Steve walks into the communal area on movie night, it’s to a scene of complete chaos.
The usual sofas and armchairs have disappeared, replaced by four tables lined parallel to each other.
“Wha-” he starts, only to be cut off abruptly by booming, “Friend Steven! Come take your place at the table of the brave!”
Steve looks around and realises that while Tony’s standing with his arms crossed in the centre of the room, surveying every action with a smug grin on his face, the other Avengers are all seated, Natasha and Bruce silent and calm while Clint fiddles with a piece of paper, his chair tilted back on two legs and his feet propped up on the table.
“Stark, get your ass over here,” Natasha calls, and Clint ever-so-helpfully flicks a paper ball at his head.
Tony pouts, shooting a mock glare in Clint’s direction before grudgingly making his way to Natasha’s table.
“J,” he calls. “Cue Program Movie Night.”
Haunting music begins playing throughout the room, and holographic candles appear, prohmjected in midair. The lights dim and each table begins glowing slightly, the one Steve’s seated at with Thor glowing red, Bruce’s blue, Clint’s yellow and Tony’s and Natasha’s green.
Words begin scrolling down his tabletop, and Steve scans through the writing, frowning in confusion.
“You might belong in Gryffindor,” the words read, and Steve’s eyebrows draw together even as Thor lets out an appreciative chuckle. “Where dwell the brave at heart. Their daring, nerve and chivalry set Gryffindors apart.”
Beside him, Bruce’s table begins glowing slightly brighter and words begin unfurling across his table. Their tables are close enough that Steve can see the words that appear, and sees the wry grin that manifests on the scientist’s face, said scientist mouthing the words as they appear.
“Perhaps in wise old Ravenclaw, if you’ve a ready mind. Where those of wit and learning, will always find their kind.”
Clint’s table is next, on the other side of Bruce’s, and while it’s too far for him to read, Clint’s mumbling is just loud enough for his enhanced hearing to pick up.
“You might belong in Hufflepuff, where they are just and loyal. Those Hufflepuffs are true, and unafraid of toil.”
Then comes Tony’s and Natasha’s table, and there’s an abruot change in the lighting before a pedestal rises from the centre of the table, shrouded in mist. Perched atop the pedestal is a man in black robes and a hood, both lined in green. Words begin scrawling across the sides of the pedestal and the man recites them as they appear.
“Perhaps in Slytherin you’ll make your true friends. Those cunning folk use any means to achieve their ends.”
Clint stares at the dramatic events unfolding before him before pouting. “No fair, I want the special effects too!”
The hooded man ignores him and jumps down from the pedestal, flipping his hood back and revealing that he is, in fact, Tony.
“By the way,” Tony calls, drawing two sets of robes out and tossing them to Bruce and Clint. “Catch.”
Bruce and Clint snatch the fabric out of midair and shake them out, pulling them over their heads and exchanging grins.
Then Tony throws a set of robes at Thor, Natasha and Steve, and Natasha smiles slightly before donning them, while Thor pulls them over his head and laughs, his voice an appreciative rumble.
Steve stares down at the cloth in his hands, noticing that all the robes were almost exact copies of each other, save that Bruce’s is lined in blue, Clint’s in yellow, Natasha’s in green and his and Thor’s in red.
The soldier shoots the other Avengers a befuddled look, but all he receives in reply is Clint going, “Just put them on.”
Steve’s lips twist in confusion, but he dons the robes anyway, slipping them over his head just as the screen lights up and the movie of the night begins. Onscreen, clouds part on a dark night and words begin to appear, the title of the movie in sharp relief.
Tony grins.
“Welcome to the Wizarding World of Harry Potter, Cap.”