"There is literally nothing here. Whose bright idea was it to come to America," Ron scrunched his nose that just in the last three minutes gained another freckle, "and not even a nice part? Like a bar, or maybe a beach and palms, but…here."
Harry and Hermione, mostly out of sheer boredom fallowed his hand that perfectly encompassed the idea of 'here'. New Mexico was, to put it kindly, hot as devil's perky behind, unsurprising since it happened to lay in the middle of dusty scorching hell.
"Dumbledore's." Answered Hermione, as it was her annoying habit.
"I know that Dumbledore was like 'the guy', but why do we listen to a whacky portrait? Isn't the guy like...dead?"
"Six feet under," admitted Harry, like he personally dug the grave, "kicked the bucket and it spilled over."
They nodded, knowing exactly who took the brunt of this unfortunate accident."
"So why for ever loving hell do we listen?"
Boys looked at Hermione, clearly expecting logical answer.
"He is Dumbledore." They nodded again, this time sagely and in understanding.
"So, what did he say we will find here?" Harry turned around in small circle, taking in the hard rocky ground and few shadowy shapes circling above their heads, sincerely doubting that he would find anything bar heatstroke, death and maybe a pretty rock his godson whined about in those gods' abandoned grounds.
"Something that will bring us joy." Ron shook off small scorpion from his shoe and squinted at a shape that grew larger with every second. The loud wail of engine came closer, soon fallowed by whoops of glee and shouts. The pickup truck rode past them, half naked man with a firm beer muscles waved in their direction, screaming in something they assumed was once English and threw a can out of the window. Harry caught it and saluted. "Well, you found yours, where is mine?"
"You can have this one. I say we fallow them, they looked plenty happy to me. " Harry passed him the beer and walked toward wheel tracks like he was about to take a leisury stroll in the park.
"You are the idea guy." Toasted Ron sipping his cold one and striding toward Harry who was amusing himself by fallowing car's rather wavy patch. Hermione spluttered, saying a lot of things aloud, maybe even important ones as she attached herself to Harry's arm trying to keep up with two pairs of longer legs. As walking goes it was not the worst, except maybe for too many snakes trying to sass Harry out and Ron thirsting for another beer. Thankfully it seemed that they arrived somewhere and it was quite a party.
"I counted twenty seven safety regulation breaches," said Hermione in breathy scandalized voice as she observed a man cracking eggs on the mask of an old SUV where they sizzled happily under the desert sun. Ron patted her shoulder and led them toward a buffet of grilled sandwiches, working his way into community like only a man with too many brothers can. It took them a moment to realize that they've lost Harry.
It was not unusual thing to happen, Harry often lost and found himself all on his own, appearing whenever he wanted, but Ron felt his friendship bond tingle and that meant Harry found trouble. When they found him in the middle of the valley he looked surprisingly not in trouble, which was as perplexing as the hammer stuck on the ground with a thick chain wrapped around the unproportionally large head, head Harry kept poking with his finger every now and then.
Large man with a tremendously good beard game wrapped his hands around the hilt and pulled up, and up and up, face growing red then blue then a bit green and then he fell backward, before being replaced by another one bearing similar features.
"I don't get it. It's not even a nice hammer. Look at it. I could buy better at Ikea. What you could do with it? It's light as foam." Stated Harry, taking the handle and picking it up, waving it around. The sky rumbled. In the moment all eyes turned up, meeting only clear undisturbed blue. "Okaaaay…I'm sorry I called you ugly?"
The hammer zinged. Harry untangled the chains and scratched it affectionately on the underside. Hermione started making a choking cat noises and Ron patted her back munching on the sausage.
"This one sparks joy!" Proclaimed Harry, still dutifully scratching the metal, where it did unusual singsong sounds. "And look, it likes me! We can go home."
"Ow, man…gosh." Brown haired cousin of Yeti slammed his hand on the nearby rock cracking it in half, but acknowledging the world-wide ancient tradition among all men 'you got it first, you keep it'. "Take it man, treat your lady."
Soon in Harry's hand landed a beer, small yapping dog and two grilled sandwiches. He kept the last as all this wandering was tiring business, offered the dog to still mewing Hermione (maybe she needed hospitalization?) and Ron thankfully relived him from the beer's weight. Waving his goodbyes they went on their way, leaving a rather lively afterparty that chanted Harry's name to the skies.
"We should stop in the city." Said finally Hermione, letting the ball of yapping fluff down and grabbing hold of the leash.
"There is a city? Good, I need a drink, all this beer need to be chased down."
Harry didn't have an opinion one way or another, continuing to slowly swirl the hammer around on his hand by the short leather strap.
City was…They were in houses bigger then what passed for a city. But it had coffee and a place that was cooler in the inside then on the outside, so all important points on the list. Harry was calmly slurping the black life-giving sludge and spearing tiny cherry tomato on feeble plastic fork when tubal growl resounded too close to his ear.
"Brother! What have you done!" And then a large hand landed on his shoulder and took him from his seat.
"Whoa! Hey, does that angry brute belongs to you?" Harry waved his free hand at a confused Connan doppelganger looking over at two women, one of which kept taking photos while the other hanged from the same arm that kept him standing on his toes. It would be impressive if he wasn't so pissed, the nerve of this guy, and right in front of his salad, too!
"Thor! Let him go!"
"Thor…Thor…Hey, were you named after that beer? " Asked Ron conversationally over his drink. He frowned thoughtfully." Come to think about it, it tasted like sweet piss…"
"How came you by this hammer, you fiend!?" Harry stabbed him. Hard. With his plastic fork. The guy gave out surprised 'eek' and let him go, suddenly blinking at the finger that suddenly found itself close to his nose.
"Listen buddy, I picked it fair and square. You shouldn't do house repairs under influence...on the desert."
"It's Mjölnir!"
"I told you!" Exclaimed Hermione pointing at Harry like he had been the bad one instead of that rage baby who didn't keep an eye on his work tools. And she didn't say anything…Wait.
"Oh Merlin, I thought you were having an episode. " Small dog barked and taking the opportunity of her shock it jumped on Hermione's lap, biting into her soggy toast savagely. Harry turned to hulking blond." Look, you pick it, it's yours, otherwise I'm taking it home."
"Tis fair." Said Thor and strode arrogantly to the seat Mjölnir rested on. He wrapped his hand around it and pulled. It didn't stir. The rather small Cafe was thus exposed to unseemly sight of a large guy bowed over a bar stool, that survived funky seventies, looking like a middle - age crisis caught him with his pants down. Harry, feeling bad, plucked the hammer from the seat, hiding it behind his back, and with small gestures showed his friends the escape route.
Breathing in the scorching hot air Harry petted the warm metal.
"I knew you liked me better."
Mjölnir zinged.
@@@
Man dressed fully in black stood staring in the space, like he modeled for Google Earth.
"Sir. One of the locals." Phil Coulson looked at bleary eyed individual that saluted by touching beer can to his baseball cap. Three others, sensing a great moment to shine swayed closer.
"You saw what happened to POSER?"
"What poser? The redhead?" Phil had a firm orders to not disclosure any information about Pretty Outsidery Shiny no - Earth Rock and he was the best in his field, no civilian would sneakily extract this from him.
"That's Classified. Tell us in your own words what happened."
"Not much, hammer fell from the sky, maybe like that frozen shit from airplanes, you know. Then three kids came, two looked like they got tickled by the lightening and there was redhead. Man, he ate like he was born munching on grilled bacon and drank like old Joe. "The beer can moved toward the man snoring under the truck." The other guy just picked the hammer and the girl chittered like a hamster. Maybe she has condition or something… Then they went."
"Where?" Three pairs of hands showed three different directions. The last guy, eyes dead and empty, tipped forward looking at Phil.
"Sunday." He nodded regally, before waving his hand." Beer?"