The Great Hall of Hogwarts was alive with the usual buzz of chatter and clinking silverware. Floating candles shimmered above the four long tables, and the enchanted ceiling reflected the soft twilight of the Scottish sky. Laughter drifted through the air, mingling with the smell of roasted chicken and treacle tart.

At the Gryffindor table, Lilly sat halfway through her shepherd’s pie, chatting animatedly with Hermione Granger about their latest Defense Against the Dark Arts essay.

“I still think Umbridge is going to lose her mind if we hand in anything that actually makes sense,” Lilly said dryly, earning a laugh from Hermione.

“Maybe that’s the plan,” Hermione replied with a knowing smile, quill already scratching across parchment even as she ate.

A few seats away, Harry Potter and Ron Weasley were deep in their own conversation — something about Quidditch and the likelihood of Slytherin trying to cheat again. The four of them had settled into the easy rhythm of friendship that made Hogwarts feel like home.

Then, without warning, the massive double doors at the end of the hall slammed open.

The sound echoed like thunder. Every head in the room turned.

Eight figures strode into the Great Hall — not in wizard robes, but in strange, gleaming armor and battle-worn suits.

Tony Stark was first, arc reactor glowing faintly through his shirt beneath a half-deployed Iron Man suit. Behind him came Steve Rogers, shield raised instinctively, every muscle taut with readiness. Natasha Romanoff’s sharp eyes swept across the room, hand resting near her holstered pistols, while Clint Barton’s bow was already drawn, an arrow nocked and ready.

Thor, taller and broader than any wizard in the hall, carried Mjölnir as if it weighed nothing at all, his red cape dragging across the stone floor. Bruce Banner lingered just behind him, tension coiled tight — calm now, but dangerous if pushed.

And then came Loki.

The room seemed to chill as he entered, a sly smile curling across his lips. His green and gold armor gleamed in the candlelight, and his eyes locked onto Lilly with unnerving familiarity — as though he already knew her.

Two more figures followed: Wanda Maximoff, her crimson energy flickering faintly at her fingertips, and her twin brother, Pietro, who vibrated with restless speed even standing still.

The professors at the head table were already rising — McGonagall’s lips pressed into a thin line, Snape’s eyes narrowing suspiciously, and Dumbledore standing serenely, though his gaze was sharp as ever.

“Can I help you, gentlemen?” Dumbledore asked, his calm voice carrying effortlessly through the hall.

Tony Stark scanned the room, clearly unimpressed by the floating candles and robed teenagers. “Well,” he said dryly, “this definitely isn’t New York.”

“Midgard,” Thor corrected, brow furrowing. “Though… not as we know it.”

Steve’s voice was steady, but cautious. “We’re looking for someone.”

The students whispered among themselves. Harry leaned closer to Lilly. “Who are they?” he hissed.

Lilly didn’t answer. Her heart was pounding. She could feel Loki’s eyes on her — not curious, but knowing. Like he’d found something he hadn’t meant to lose.

Hermione’s hand brushed her sleeve. “Lilly… do you know them?” she whispered.

Lilly hesitated — just for a second — and that was all the answer Hermione needed.

Loki smirked, tilting his head. “Found you,” he said softly.

And suddenly, Hogwarts didn’t feel so safe anymore.

The Avengers hadn’t come to Hogwarts by accident. Loki had traced a surge of old Asgardian magic to the castle—magic that shouldn’t exist on Midgard. It led them straight to Lilly, the girl who’d once fought beside gods and vanished without a trace. Now she was hidden among wizards, her memories sealed, her power buried. And Loki wasn’t about to let her forget who she really was.