GotSIS Ch.34: The Hammer Drops

13th December 2008

Harry’s Home, New York

The chime of the doorbell rang through the flat, and Harry hurriedly did the last buttons of his shirt as he walked across his Hall and opened his front door.

“Hey. Morning.” Harry smiled at Sharon, who stood on the other side, a pile of files tucked under one arm and a Starbucks coffee in the other. “Come in.”

“Thanks. Close the door, and if you can, secure this place with some sort of magic,” Sharon said, and Harry blinked. “Don’t worry, it is just a part of standard procedure. An O-8-4 and any information pertaining to it has to be treated with utmost caution. Technically, I shouldn’t even be briefing you outside of a secure SHIELD facility.”

Harry flicked his finger, and the door closed, a muffilto charm spreading around them at the same time. “Fair enough. Go on.” 

“This is for you, since we woke you up and gave you practically no notice,” she said, handing him the Starbucks cup and a thin file before she walked to the couch and sat down. “The file I gave you is for you to get to a covert SHIELD facility in New Mexico. There are photos to go with it for a small room, which is usually empty, so you can teleport there. There’s a list of access codes on it and a map, which will allow you to get to the place where you need to go without drawing attention.” 

“Why all the secrecy if it is your own base?” Harry asked. “And why can’t I go to the site directly?”

“Too many people and we can’t have you getting lost in the desert,” Sharon said. “As for the map and stuff, it is a covert base. The people there are prickly if a normal SHIELD agent shows up unannounced. You’re going to appear in the middle of their base, on the day an O-8-4 is found near them without any procedural papers. So it is better if you go in and out quietly.” 

“Interesting.” Harry took a sip of the coffee, feeling the hot sweetness of caramel and the slight bitterness of the coffee warm his throat. “Nice coffee. So what am I to do there?”

“The base is just a pass-through point, so nothing much,” Sharon replied. “You’ll be picked up by a special agent who is arriving on the base himself, as we speak, and then proceed with him straight to the site in a chopper, where the O-8-4 is.” 

Harry nodded. “Who’s this agent?”

“He goes by the name Hawkeye,” Sharon said. “He’s on this case too, and is being briefed vaguely about you. He’ll take you straight to Coulson, though he doesn’t know much about you apart from the fact that you’re an arcane expert and an enhanced with classified abilities. You can choose what to or what not to tell him.”

Harry frowned. “You’re leaving all that up to me? I told Stark one small thing, and Coulson was upset about it.”

“Yeah, Stark’s a nosy civilian while the guy you’re meeting today is a senior SHIELD agent and a Level Seven Special Agent to boot.” Sharon switched on her tablet, typing an access code to unlock it. “He’s done enough classified missions that most normal agents can’t access his file any more than they can access yours. He was under Coulson once, just like I’m now. And Coulson chooses his proteges with care, so I feel that most are trustworthy. ”

“Like the Black Widow?”

Sharon’s head snapped toward him so fast that he feared she might’ve gotten a whiplash. “The— yes. Just like her, more or less anyway.” She took a deep breath. “All you need to know is that he’s a senior agent and adept at keeping secrets if that’s what you’re worried about.” 

“You seem rather startled by me name-dropping Widow,” Harry noted. “Any reason why?”

Sharon snorted. “You mean the one agent who strolled out of nowhere, looking like a Victoria’s Secret Model and waltzed right into Level Six by blowing through a dozen academy records in less than a week? The woman who only takes on missions that most would either kill for or run away from? Yes, I was startled that you knew about her.”

“I suppose.” Harry chuckled. “Coulson runs quite the company within SHIELD, no?” Harry mused. “I mean, I have worked with you, Agent May, and heard of a few others who are on his team, and to me, all of them seem rather impressive.”

Sharon gave him a small smile. “Thanks. And yes, to get assigned under Coulson is like finding a goldmine for any SHIELD agent. He’s the head of Special Operations, and he’s Fury’s left hand and next in line to be the Deputy Director, if not the Director of SHIELD. He handpicks his proteges and puts them through his own unique training program so we can undertake some of the most unique operations. The only one some covet more than his is Agent Hand’s detail.”

“Why? What does he head?”

“She,” Sharon corrected. “Hand leads a multi-specialty strike team and exclusively recruits from the military, specifically from their special forces.” She shrugged. “The detail is famous with all those who have served, though that’s not the concern right now.” 

Harry inclined his head. “The O-8-4.”

“Exactly. A large hammer-like object has appeared out of nowhere, which no one can move or lift and has left a crater about three-quarters of a mile wide in the middle of the desert.”

She flipped her tablet, and Harry’s eyebrows rose at the image of a large crater taken from above, something relatively tiny in its center. Sharon swiped the image, and Harry’s breath caught in his throat as the image of a silver hammer appeared, runes carved on its surface.

A rather familiar hammer, one he had seen before.

“You know what that is?” Sharon asked, noting his expression.

“I do. At least, I think I do,” Harry answered. “I’d like to check it out before I arrive at any conclusions.” He held up his hand, and his invisibility cloak flew out from the bedroom into his hand. In a flash of golden sparks, the cloak appeared on him as if he had worn it all along, the silver fabric perfectly pressed and crisp. “Anything else I should know?”

She nodded hastily, removing a card from her pocket. “This is an access card and badge. If any SHIELD asks you who you are, show them this and continue. They’ll know you’re a special agent and won’t question you much. Coulson’s assigned you a callsign already, which you are to use instead of your real name.”

“What’s that?”

“Emrys.”

Harry blinked. “Like Myrddin Emrys, as in Merlin?”

“Yes.” Sharon’s lips twitched. “Agent Coulson brought his sense of humor to work. I mean, you’re a wizard and British. It seems fitting for you to be associated with Merlin. Minus the beard and stuff, you know? And it is like, obscure enough that no one would make an immediate connection unless they know.”

Harry raised an eyebrow. “Did I tell him that Merlin was a real person and a former Sorcerer Supreme? ‘Cause he was.”

She shrugged. “If you did, that would’ve encouraged him more as the name would mean something to you.”

“I suppose that’s true. Emrys, hmm.” Harry ran a hand through his hair, rolling the word over his tongue. “Sounds nice. So if anyone asks, I’m Emrys, special agent.”

“Yes. Coulson is following the standard Asset-identity protection protocol so that people can't directly look you up without specific clearance in case they see you do any magic.” Sharon added. “So, don’t give your full name to anyone, okay? We’re trying to keep you a secret for as long as we can.”

Harry inclined his head. “I won’t.”

“Coulson actually set this up post the Bahrain mission, but activated it today because you might need to go in the field.” She stared at him imploringly. “You never know who might take an interest in an O-8-4 and cause trouble. We’ll have two strike teams there for protection alongside Hawkeye, who’s rather very capable on his own, but you never know.”

“I see. Why’s everyone so twitchy?” Harry asked. “I mean, sure, it is something you’ve never seen before, but isn’t all this a little over the top?”

Sharon grimaced. “I… don’t know, honestly. It’s standard at this point, and everyone gets scared when O-8-4s come into play, especially ones that seem to display powers or outright weird stuff. I think some mission might’ve gone south one of the times it happened. But that’s just my guess.” Sharon’s jaw twitched. “Coulson might tell you more, but chances are that it’d be classified enough that he won’t tell even if he wanted to.”

“Huh.” Harry picked up the coffee Sharon had bought him. “Well, I'd better see what all this fuss is about then. And the hammer, well, if it is what I think it is, precautions might be the best way to go.”

“Why?”

“You remember when I told you about the gods and aliens? This is the former.” Harry glanced at the photo in the file before shoving it into his expanded pouch.

“A hammer… god?” Sharon’s eyes widened. “Wait, godly weapon? You mean like Poseidon’s trident and stuff? This is something like that?”

“Less Greek, more Norse, if I’m right,” Harry replied, spinning his fingers to open a portal into a small storage room he had seen in the file. “Close the door behind you properly, okay?” He stepped through and gave her a last smile. “Good day and thanks for the coffee.”

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13th December 2008

Puente Antiguo, New Mexico

Thor breathed in the Midgard air, looking at himself up and down in the mirror in the small house where the Midgardians who had sheltered him lived. A part of him mused it was still better than the healer’s station, where he had been restrained.

Restrains, very much and weak, yet ones he couldn’t rip through. Had it not been for his beloved brother teaching him to slip out of restraints, he would’ve still been there and never found the kind mortals.

He flexed his fingers, feeling his skin, and felt a pain slice through his heart, sharper than the swords of Sif. He could no longer find the thunder that ran through him ever since he was a boy. The thunder that was a part of him as much as his arms and legs was.

His father had snatched away the very power of Ygddrassil from him. The power that made him the god of thunder. The power that made him… him.

No longer did he have his strength that had earned him the moniker of The Mighty Thor. No longer could he feel the clouds, the sky, and the air as he always had. He couldn’t sense Asgard anymore, or the power that ran through the realms, nor could he call on Heimdall to summon to Bifrost.

And above all, he couldn’t feel his connection to Mjolnir, his hammer, which he had wielded since he was a mere boy. The Hammer that had chosen him and only him. The hammer that made him special amongst all of Asgard. The weapon that had made him worthy to be king.

A part of him wanted to laugh. He had gone from nearly being crowned the King of the Nine Realms to being banished to Midgard. He had gone from nearly becoming the All-Father to being a powerless mortal, whose body couldn’t even rip through simple restraints. A body that couldn’t even get grazed by a small, moving metal ship without going down.

Just a day ago, he would’ve ripped apart a ship a hundred times the size without blinking.

“You know? For a crazy homeless person, he’s pretty cut,” Thor heard the woman, who had sent lightning up his veins from the small weapon, say, and he turned. “Hey, sorry I tased you.”

The pretty woman paced behind her, a tome held in her hand, and Thor nearly smiled at her tousled hair and furrowed expression. He drifted toward her, glancing around until a small device caught his eye, and he curiously picked it up.

“Excuse me, excuse me.” The pretty woman rushed toward him and snatched the thing out of his hand. She kept it away, glancing at his torso, her cheeks flaming red. “Um…”

Thor unfurled the strange Midgardian robe she had handed him. “What is this?”

“Oh,” she muttered, quickly tearing off a piece of parchment struck on the strange robe. “My ex. Good with patients, bad with relationships. Uh, they were the only clothes I had that’d fit you.”

Thor frowned. That was not what he had asked.

“They’d suffice,” he said, pulling the robe over his head.

“You’re welcome,” she whispered. 

He felt a pang tear through his stomach and cleared his throat, turning to the elder who sat at the table. “This mortal form has grown weak. I need sustenance.”

They shared a look but said nothing as Thor looked between them.

“I think he means food,” the other woman muttered, and he beamed at her.

“Yes, food would be good.”

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13th December 2008

Covert SHIELD Base, New Mexico

Hushed chatter swept past Harry as he snuck past the agents on the base, careful not to bump into anyone while invisible under his cloak. He quietly made his way across the base, the map Sharon had given him in his hand. 

The base seemed to be some sort of massive engineering lab, one with stuff he hadn’t even seen in Tony Stark’s lab. Though he mused, the one he had seen was Tony’s home lab, and he had brought equipment to build a particle accelerator right in his basement and created a new element in hours, alongside a new type of reactor.

He paused as an agent walked past him and through a door, and Harry spotted an observation room with a window overlooking a huge space below where a massive ship was being built.

‘Maybe SHIELD is making a warship for a naval base.’ Harry moved away as the door swung closed and locked on its own. ‘Didn’t know SHIELD has its own navy too.’ 

Harry shrugged to himself and continued down the corridor, turning right around the bend and walking down a set of steps, before pushing open a set of gray doors.

Dunes of desert sand greeted him, the sun scorching down from the clear sky above, where vultures soared. The heat on the tarmac below bled to the soles of his boots as he stepped out, glancing at the agents who were looking around quizzically, checking around the door.

Harry hurried away, placing a confundous charm on the two of them. Covering his face with his hand to avoid breathing in the desert sand, he made his way to the Helipad as the map showed, the sound of the blades already audible. 

He checked around before dropping his invisibility and walked out, watching as a big, black chopper with the SHIELD logo landed on the tarmac, and he hurried toward it. An agent moved in his way, but he flashed the access card Sharon had given him and brushed past him, toward the chopper, whose door, painted with a S.H.I.E.L.D logo, slid open.

A man with sandy blonde hair poked his head out, peering at him through his purple shades.

‘Clint Barton, son of Edith.’ The soul stone whispered in his ear.

“You the Emrys guy?” Clint yelled over the roar of the blades, and Harry nodded stiffly, waving the card in his hand. “Then get in!”

Harry climbed into the chopper as the man helped him up and directed him to a seat while the noise of the blades rang in his ears. Harry shoved his fingers in to block the noise as Clint closed the doors, which did nothing to lessen the sound. 

Clint frowned at him before pointing at the headphones next to Harry. With a grimace, Harry swiped the headphones up and put them on, the roar cutting instantly to silence.

“Whoa,” he muttered.

“Never sat in a helicopter before, have you?” Clint’s voice rang through the headphones, and Harry looked up at him sharply. “Don’t blame you. It’s always more than a bit of a surprise when you realize how loud they actually are, even inside.”

Harry looked down and adjusted the mic before clearing his throat.“No, I haven’t. God, the sound is deafening,” he said. “And wow, it has gone quiet now.”

“Noise-cancelling headphones. Now, you’re the specialist for the O-8-4, aren’t you?” Clint asked, and Harry nodded. “Great. I’m Hawkeye, but you can call me Clint. Any idea what that thing is that led to these guys rousing me out of my very comfortable bed while I was on my first real vacation in eleven months?”

“I’ve a fair idea, but I’d like to confirm it in person before revealing anything,” Harry replied evasively, glancing out of the window to see dunes of sand flying past them below. “If it makes you feel any better, I was also fast asleep when Coulson called me. He barely gave me fifteen minutes to get dressed.”

Clint snorted. “Sucks, doesn’t it? Maybe both of us can hang him upside down once we get there.”

“Yeah, I’m not doing that.” Harry’s lips twitched. “He may have woken us up, but I don’t think the poor guy has slept at all. I was with him last evening in Los Angeles, from where he rushed here directly, as far as I know.”

“City of Angels to the land of enchantment. Superb.” Clint folded his arms and scowled. “It still sucks. This is the second time they’ve pushed my vacation back this month. At least this is just for a day.” He paused. “Unless everything goes south again and I’m stuck on the assignment for longer. Again.”

Harry winced. “I’ll put in a word to Coulson. Maybe he can get someone else.”

“If you identify it fast enough, it would no longer be an O-8-4, and I could go home for Christmas.” He leaned back in his seat. “If you do it by the afternoon, I owe you a beer.”

“I promise to get to the bottom of it as fast as I can,” Harry said, glancing at his watch. “I might need to make a few calls if I turn out to be right about it. I’ve to assess the situation first, but if luck’s in your favor, you’ll get to go home today itself. If not, I’ll see if Coulson can do something about it. He’s a friend.”

Clint nodded appreciatively. “Great. You haven’t told me your name, though.”

Harry’s lips twitched into a smirk. “Emrys.” 

“Your real name, genius. I know your codename.” Clint scoffed, and Harry gave him the bland smile that he had seen Coulson give to people when he wished to be evasive. “I'm very much up the food chain at SHIELD. I can find your name out easily, so save us both the trouble.”

“Something tells me you won’t find it easily. But you can call me Harry.”

“Is that your real name, or are you just making it up?” He asked suspiciously. “Because, seriously, I hadn’t even heard of you before today, and you’ve enough clearance that I would know. So, what’s your deal?” 

Harry folded a leg atop the other and leaned back. “That would be telling, now, won’t it?” 

“So you’re one of the cagey fellas.” Clint’s eyes looked over him over the purple shades, lingering on his robes. “You’re British but have been living in the States for some time. You’re definitely a special agent, but not the kind most SHIELD personnel are, cause you’re neither a scientist nor military. I’m guessing you’ve seen combat, though. Cop or a gang?” 

“Neither.”

“You aren’t going to elaborate?” Clint asked. “Come on, most say something at this point.”

“I did.” Harry felt the Soul stone thrum on his chest and glanced through the window, spotting a massive crater in the middle of the dunes, where several tiny figures milled around. “Looks like we’re here, Clint. So let’s get to work.”

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13th December 2008

Crater Site, New Mexico

Coulson’s face was creased with worry as Harry and Clint approached, Harry’s robe billowing in the desert wind, his feet sinking into the sand below. His eyes trailed upon the faint burn marks in the moving sand that were being meticulously photographed by some of the agents, before he turned to Coulson.

“So, this is what the fuss is all about?” Clint narrowed his eyes at the small rock in the distance, from where Harry could see something silver glint. Around it, a structure was being rapidly built as dozens of men and women worked on it. “That looks like a hammer. It has these weird symbols, which I do not recognize.” Clint continued, and Harry’s eyebrows rose at the fact that the man could see the inscriptions from such a length, when he couldn’t even see the hammer. “It is either that or a weird satellite. Maybe an alien satellite, if, you know, aliens were real.”

Harry and Coulson shared a look before Coulson cleared his throat.

“It definitely isn’t a satellite or anything we know of. As far as we know, it isn’t even made of any metal on the periodic table. That includes the one that’s going to be added in a few days.”

“The name’s not yet decided,” Harry said. “Badassium, though, is apparently on the table.”

Clint looked quizzically between them. “They discovered a new element? And why do you two know about that?”

“We were there when it was created yesterday,” Harry said. “Well, I was anyway, and Coulson was keeping tabs, so we know. I kinda helped create it.”

“I thought you were an expert on arcane and mythical things. Not a scientist,” Clint said.

“That is true,” Harry said, waving him off. “Anything else I should know?”

“No one can lift the O-8-4 or even move it,” Coulson replied, before turning to Clint. “Get into your gear and coordinate the perimeter building. Secure the site and ensure there’s no one around but us. You’re probably the senior-most SHIELD member here after me, and I cannot do everything. So, you’re on security.” 

“Yes, boss.”

“And one of the data team and scientist grapevines has sprouted something about an Erik Selvig and a Jane Foster,” Coulson continued. “I want you to look into them and get back to me about what you find. See if they’ve found something which we haven’t. They’re both Astrophysicists.”

Clint nodded, glancing in the distance. “Got it. I’ll look after all of that and, um, also send the scientist squad in. There are already half a dozen of them waiting out there on the side, dressed in Hazmat. Didn’t a bunch of civilians find it first? We don’t need to get into quarantine protocol for the whole of New Mexico, do we?” 

“We’re taking all the precautions we can. And no one in SHIELD touches that thing unless Agent Emrys clears it,” Coulson stated. 

“And he won’t need the Hazmat?”

“Don’t worry. I can handle myself, mate,” Harry told him. “Coulson, now, shall we? I’m interested to see the O-8-4 in person.”

“Yes, of course.” Coulson nodded, his eyes flicking to Clint. “And Barton, unless Emrys clears it to be scientific or safe in nature, all contact with the O-8-4 happens through me or him. Not even the science team goes near it without our say so.”

Harry gave Coulson a surprised look while Clint frowned. “I suppose. I’ll get into gear and coordinate the perimeter security and look into those guys.”

“See to it that you do.”

Clint jogged off into the distance, yelling to someone, and Harry quirked an eyebrow at Coulson as they made their way toward the center of the crater. 

“Could he really read the inscription on the hammer from here, or did he just see the photos?” Harry asked.

“Barton? Oh, I’ve no doubt he can see it,” Coulson said. “We call him Hawkeye for a reason. Best marksman and archer in the world, barring none. I’ve seen him take a shot from a mile and a half away, hitting dead center on a target’s head with an arrow.”

“Wow. That’s… something,” Harry breathed. “Mile and a half?”

“Two thousand seven hundred and twenty yards away to be exact,” Coulson confirmed. “It was an open field, and then through a window. A good sniper could’ve made the shot, but I doubt they could do it without a scope or with an arrow, like he did.”

Harry hummed. “Why does he use arrows? Medieval weaponry against guns is… nothing.”

“He uses modified ones, which allows him a degree of versatility that guns don’t.” Coulson took out a pair of sunglasses and put them on. “Some of the arrows he uses were designed by your friend, Tony Stark, on a special order a few years back.”

“Ah. Which means those arrows probably have more engineering than any gun on the planet,” Harry deduced. 

“Yes. Until Tony shut the weapons division down, Stark Industries was one of our primary weapons contractors. The Helicopter you were in? That was Stark Industries’ Blackblade Helicopter.” He glanced at the retreating helicopter in the distance. “Stark’s genius kept us a step ahead in the weapons game since SHIELD was founded. Now, we’re falling behind, but we’ll manage.”

“Avengers initiative?”

“More like a big ship,” Coulson replied. “What do you have on the hammer? Any idea what it is?”

“Pretty good one, actually. I’m pretty certain it’s the Mjolnir.”

Coulson’s forehead creased. “I’ve heard that name before, but I can’t place it.”

“Probably in Norse mythology. It’s the hammer of the god of thunder, Thor, the son of Odin. And the last time I checked, soon to be King of Asgard. Actually, he should’ve already become king as of yesterday, if I’m not wrong.” Harry said. “Which is what worries me.”

“If he’s the King, what is his hammer doing here?” Coulson’s lips thinned as they neared the hammer, and Harry got a good look at it. “What is the threat level of this hammer? And this situation?”

“I don’t know the situation, but if Thor has been killed on the first day as King, I’ll have to get to work right now. If it’s something else, it depends.” Harry walked around the hammer, studying its designs, feeling the magic thrumming within it, shining to him like the sun in the desert. “As for this hammer, yes, it is what I think it is. And in itself, per your rating, it’d be Omega class.”

Coulson’s eyebrows shot up. “Omega?”

“Far as I know, it is one of the most powerful and versatile weapons in the Nine Realms. Definitely one of the most powerful artefacts on Earth. Easily top five.”

“Top five? What are the other four?”

“You won’t know most of them except the Excalibur.” Harry snorted. “And no, just because you gave me the name Emrys, doesn’t mean I’m bringing the sword on missions or something.”

“But you can?” He asked hopefully. “If you needed to?”

Harry shrugged. “Maybe. Excalibur is reserved as a relic for the Sorcerer Supreme. If I really need it, she might let me borrow it, that is, if the sword itself allows me to wield it.”

“If it doesn’t?”

“I won’t be able to lift it,” Harry replied. “And even if I did, it’d be no more than a normal sword for me if I am not worthy of its powers. Of course, it is one of the ‘good’ relics, so it won’t curse me or something, but you never know.”

Coulson glanced at the Mjolnir. “No one can lift this either. Could it be the same thing? Being worthy?”

“Likely. The dwarves of Nidavellir are known to create things no one else can, so it won’t surprise me. I can find out a lot more, but that’d require me to do magic. Visible magic.”

“That can be arranged for,” Coulson said, glancing at the structure around them. “Cooper! Drop the covers for the inner perimeter and get back. Secure it properly later.”

A man in a suit nodded and barked orders, and Harry watched as white curtains dropped from atop the structure, covering the area around them.

“This is how we usually protect against radiation or biological weapons,” Coulson told Harry. “Well, more secure and airtight, but you get the idea.”

“Well, you all sure work fast.” Harry tugged onto the power in the air, drawing it into a golden runic circle that shone around the hammer, sinking into it, and Harry felt the taste of ozone flood his tongue. “Definitely divine. And very electric. Even its presence is affecting the weather around here. You can expect rain soon.”

“Explains yesterday’s storm, which, it turns out, is magic now.” Coulson inclined his head, and Harry winced. “Can you find or contact this Thor through the hammer?”

“I can try.” Harry flexed his fingers, taking a deep breath.

Hemione’s soft smile and Ron’s uproarious laughter rang in his ears as warmth flooded down his arms from the Soul Stone, curving at his fingertips and thrumming in his bones. His fingers wrapped around the hammer.

Images flashed in his mind like a bolt of lightning through the dark sky. 

A great forge burned, the molten metal shaping into the form of a hammer as power cracked around it while a middle-aged man in golden armor watched. In the next moment, the image shifted to a young girl in dark robes, who barely looked fifteen, as she lifted the hammer. In a flash, the image crumbled, and she stood in front of an army, a dark crown on her head, as the hammer tore through several frost giants around her.

Blood dripped from the hammer as she roared in triumph, lightning flashing above her as armies fell. 

The image shifted again to show the hammer being summoned back into the man’s grasp, his eyes burning with furious golden power that roared down the hammer, hitting the girl, who was now a grown woman, pushing her through a portal.

As the golden light cleared, the laughter reached his ears, and a young boy, barely five, wearing a red cape, ran toward the hammer and lifted it, while his mother and brother watched wide-eyed, thunder booming in the sky.

‘Thor,’ Harry deduced as more images flashed past him as Thor grew, Mjolnir in hand as they fought, lightning and thunder rumbling in the sky above them.

Then the image turned to a cold, desolate wasteland, where Thor stood, alongside Sif, Volstagg, and two others Harry didn’t recognize. His hammer smashed through the ice as frost giants charged toward them, while they fled. A flash later, Harry stood in the Bifrost observatory, next to Thor, whose armor crumbled as Mjolnir was snatched from his hand.

“In the name of my father and his father before, I, ODIN ALL-FATHER, CAST YOU OUT!” Odin roared, and Thor was thrown into the Bifrost, just before Odin brought the hammer close to him. “Whosoever holds this hammer, if he be worthy, shall possess the power of Thor.”

An arc of lightning shot up Harry’s arm, and his eyes widened.

‘Worthy? Not worthy?’ A young voice whispered in his ears as the Soul Stone thrummed on his chest, the protective magic of the Eye of Agamotto flaring around him. ‘Noble. Hero. Warrior.’

Harry’s breath hitched as the warmth of the Soul Stone flowed down his arm, into the hammer.

‘Soldier?’ The hammer questioned. ‘Leader? King?’ Harry felt the lightning wrap around his wrist. ‘Worthy, yet not worthy enough.’

The Soul Stone seemed to protest, and Harry felt the hammer tremble between his fingers as the Soul Stone’s power allowed him to shift it. A moment later, electricity flooded his veins, and a rune flashed in his mind.

‘Mjolnir shall not be yours, yet you may call upon its might.’ A far more powerful voice rumbled. ‘Let the Might of Mjolnir be yours.’ 

Lightning sank into his hands, and he felt the tingle shoot through his body as he stumbled back, feeling the magic settle back.

“Are you alright?” Coulson shook him, and Harry blinked. “You went rigid for a moment, and I saw a bit of electricity spark from the hammer. What happened?”

Harry took a calming breath. “Nothing to worry about. The hammer just reacted to my magic.”

“So, you can move it? I saw the hammer shift.” Coulson asked. 

“I don’t think so.” Harry tried to move the hammer, which didn’t budge, not responding to him. “But something did happen.”

Coulson tilted his head. “What?”

“I think the hammer gifted me a spell.”

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AND… DONE! Hope you all liked the chapter!

So, yes, we're deep into Thor 1 now. Harry's kinda worthy of the Mjolnir but not enough. The Stone's kinda possessive and as we know, very powerful (and essentially bullied Mjolnir into giving Harry the spell.) Oh, and Mjolnir doesn't do this speaking stuff, but the Stone gave it a voice.

Why was Harry rejected? Because he's less of a leader than Mjolnir wants him to be, which is essentially King/Queen standards. I see him more as a hero than a leader and even the Ancient One has said it before that he lacks certain qualities like taking the hard decision to cut off an arm to save the body. Harry would rather find a way to save both than sacrifice one.

In other aspects like nobility and heroism, he surpasses Thor while warrior is debatable between the two of them.

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HPfanfictioner66