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07 Missing Her
🕑 Added 2024-07-16 18:15:01 +0000 UTCThe Rustic Heart was bustling with energy and joy. The sounds of music, laughter, and lively chatter spilled out into the streets, creating a vibrant atmosphere that could be heard from a mile away. For anyone visiting Hereford, the Rustic Heart was the embodiment of the town's spirit, a warm and welcoming pub nestled at the end of the commercial district.
Tonight, the pub was particularly animated, it's rustic wooden beams and cosy interiors glowing under the soft, warm lights. The open mic night, a weekly event, had drawn in a crowd eager to simply enjoy the performances. The clinking of glasses, the hum of conversation, and the occasional burst of applause filled the air, creating a symphony of happiness that resonated throughout the space. Bright decorations adorned the walls, and the stage was set with an array of instruments, inviting musicians and poets alike to take their turn in the spotlight.
“Thank you, Mr. Cunningham, for your unique rendition of 'Rocket Man',” the host for the night, a charming middle-aged blonde woman, announced with a playful smile as the latest performer staggered off the stage. Her words were met with a raucous roar of laughter from the crowd.
“He can’t hold a tune when he’s sober, but when he’s drunk, he sings worse than a crying pig!” shouted a patron from the front row, his voice thick with amusement. The comment was met with even louder laughter and good-natured ribbing from the audience.
It might have sounded rude to an outsider, but this was the essence of the open mic sessions at the Rustic Heart. It wasn’t about perfect performances or professional singing; it was about the camaraderie, the bravery of stepping into the spotlight, and the sheer joy of participating in the community's cherished tradition. The patrons cheered and jested, their laughter and applause creating an atmosphere of infectious joy. Friends clinked glasses, families leaned into one another, and strangers became friends in the shared experience of watching the night's entertainment unfold.
The open mic night was a celebration of imperfection, where liquid courage fueled bold attempts at stardom and where every misstep was met with encouragement rather than criticism. The Rustic Heart was a place where the pressure of daily life melted away, replaced by a sense of unity and unrestrained fun.
“Alright, next up, we have our very own Captain Harry Potter, who will be performing 'She’s Always a Woman' by Billy Joel!” The announcement elicited a cheer of approval from the audience, their applause and whistles filling the air.
Harry stood up, a smirk playing on his lips, though it didn't quite reach his eyes. The hint of nervousness that danced in his gaze betrayed the calm facade he wore. As he climbed up onto the stage, the cheerful encouragement from the crowd contrasted sharply with the turmoil inside him. He greeted the band with a nod, his movements smooth and confident, yet those who knew him well might have sensed the heaviness that weighed on his heart.
Harry took a deep breath, gripping the microphone as he prepared to sing. The vibrant energy of the Rustic Heart seemed almost overwhelming, a stark contrast to the emotions he kept tightly bottled up inside. He scanned the crowd, seeing familiar faces filled with anticipation, their joyous expressions a poignant reminder of the inner conflict he struggled to hide.
The piano melody marks the start of the performance and Harry takes an audible long breath of air. Closing his eyes he remembers the face of the enigmatic woman that had occupied his consciousness utterly and completely.
She can kill with a smile, she can wound with her eyes
He remembered the elegant face graced with a casual smile, her blue eyes dancing with mischief
And she can ruin your faith with her casual lies
He missed the debates that they had, and how she would manipulate facts and figures to make sure that she always won.
And she only reveals what she wants you to see
He still had no idea about this enigmatic woman. Who she was, what she did, where she came from, nothing unless she tells you herself.
She hides like a child but she's always a woman to me.
The tempo of the song picks up and the feelings in his heart swell up, the feeling of affection blooming like a flower in response to the melody
She can lead you to love, she can take you or leave you
Ever since he had arrived in this new world, the grief caused by the separation had caused his heart to harden. However, that enigmatic woman had crawled into his heart. Doing whatever she wants. Coming in and out of his life whenever it pleased her.
She can ask for the truth but she'll never believe you
No matter what you said or did, she always looked at you with a questioning gaze, always doubting what your actions were.
And she'll take what you give her as long as it's free
However, he felt her gratefulness for everything that he had done for her.
Yeah, she steals like a thief, but she's always a woman to me
She had sunk into his life, stole his heart and did whatever she liked with it. But he couldn’t fault her. She affected him like no other and he was helpless against her.
Oh, she takes care of herself, she can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
How could he not fall for her spell? She was independent, ambitious and highly skilled. If she set her mind to it, she could achieve anything.
Oh, and she never gives out and she never gives in
She just changes her mind
She was resilient, and stubborn as a bull when she needed to be. She is never at fault for anything nor is she ever wrong. Or that is what she would like you to believe. She is never corrected but just changes her mind. Harry chuckled remembering her antics.
And she'll promise you more than the Garden of Eden
When she agreed to give this relationship a chance, he had never felt happier in his life.
Then she'll carelessly cut you and laugh while you're bleeding
He gave her hope but without saying a word she disappeared from his life again leaving his heart ache on the separation.
But she'll bring out the best and the worst you can be
When she was with him, he felt like he was in could 9 but after she left, he wanted to burn the people responsible for taking her away from him. It took him a lot of restraint to not cast a charm to find her and destroy the spy organisation that she works for.
Blame it all on yourself 'cause she's always a woman to me
However, he knew that he can't let his emotions control him.
Mmm-mmm, mmm-mmm
Mmm-mmm, mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm
As he hums the song, the band feels reinvigorated by his performance. It had been a while since they had felt such an emotionally charged performance. They did not want to be left behind so they too intensified their performance pouring their souls into the music they were playing.
Oh, she takes care of herself, she can wait if she wants
She's ahead of her time
Oh, and she never gives out and she never gives in
She just changes her mind
As he sings the chorus again, the audience could feel the raw emotions from Harry, their hearts swelled with him as they also feel the love and pain that he is going through.
She is frequently kind and she's suddenly cruel
She had always been appreciative and kind to him but when she left him, the pain that he felt was worse than when he and Ginny separated at the end of his sixth year.
But she can do as she pleases, she's nobody's fool
However, she was not someone that could be controlled. Not by him, not by anyone else.
And she can't be convicted, she's earned her degree
Even if you try to cage her, she will always slip away. He knew that.
And the most she will do is throw shadows at you
She may be dangerous to the whole world but he knew that she wont hurt him or use him intentionally.
But she's always a woman to me
He would give her the time and space to do her thing. Each minute may feel like a new knife cut in his heart but he would be patient for her return.
Mmm-mmm, mmm-mmm
Mmm-mmm, mmm-mmm-mmm-mmm
As Harry concluded his heartfelt rendition of 'She's Always a Woman', the room erupted into applause that echoed off the rustic wooden beams and lively ambiance of the pub. The audience, captivated by the raw emotion in Harry's voice and the sincerity of his performance, rose to their feet, clapping enthusiastically.
Some patrons whistled and cheered, their voices blending with the applause in a cacophony of appreciation. A few wiped away tears, moved by the poignant lyrics that resonated with universal themes of love, longing, and heartbreak.
The host took the stage again amidst the applause. She beamed at Harry, her voice carrying over the din. "Let's hear it once more for Captain Harry Potter! What a performance!"
Harry, slightly overwhelmed by the response, acknowledged the crowd with a modest smile and a nod of gratitude before stepping down from the stage. As he made his way through the buzzing pub, patrons approached him, offering words of praise and heartfelt thanks for sharing such a touching moment.
The atmosphere remained charged with the lingering emotions of the song, the pub abuzz with animated conversations about the performance that had touched so many hearts that evening.
Harry noticed that a man in a sharp suit, standing out conspicuously, awaited him with a casual smile.
“A tough break-up?” The man, bearing the unmistakable air of a secret service officer straight out of the movies, quipped stoically yet with underlying humour.
Harry smirked in response. “At least a break-up would offer closure, but it seems I’m not allowed that reprieve,” he replied wryly. “However, I don’t think you’re here to compliment my singing.”
“What gave me away?” The man retorted, eliciting a chuckle from Harry. “Is there a place where we can talk?”
Harry led the man, whose stoic demeanour contrasted sharply with the vibrant pub atmosphere, to a small, dimly lit office tucked away at the back. They settled into worn chairs, the clinking of bottles punctuating the silence that followed. Harry, attempting to diffuse the tension with a casual gesture, placed two bottles of beer and a bowl of chips on the table between them.
“I am sorry to disturb you so late in the evening, Captain Potter,” began the man, his voice crisp and professional. “I am on a tight schedule, so I wanted to meet with you as soon as possible before my schedule fills up.”
Harry nodded, his curiosity piqued but guarded. “I don’t mind the disturbance, but I am at a loss as to who you are, though?”
“Ah, where are my manners,” the man said, a faint smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “My name is Phil Coulson, and I represent the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. An extra-governmental counter-terrorism and intelligence agency tasked with maintaining global security.”
Harry’s pulse quickened slightly at the mention of such a formidable organization. He couldn’t help but recall Natasha and her mysterious connections, wondering if this encounter was somehow related. Despite his unease, Harry managed a wry chuckle. “That’s a mouthful. Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement, and Logistics Division. Sounds like someone was desperate to make your organization’s acronym SHIELD.”
A ghost of a smile flickered across Coulson’s face, his eyes reflecting a genuine earnestness.
“So, Agent Coulson from the Strategic Homeland Intervention, Enforcement and Logistics Division. Why are you looking for little old me?”
Coulson leaned forward, his voice measured but impassioned. “The world is changing, Captain Potter. The geopolitical divides between nations are thinning, and so too are the boundaries for crime. Businesses operate globally now, and so do criminal organizations. We face terrorist groups with resources that rival some small nations. Local governments are finding it increasingly difficult to maintain control. That’s where organizations like S.H.I.E.L.D. come in—to safeguard global security.”
Harry nodded thoughtfully, though scepticism lingered in his eyes. “Agent Coulson, I’ve served in the army. I’ve seen firsthand what you’re describing, and I’ve advocated for closer collaboration between military forces and intelligence agencies to combat these threats. Why come to me?”
Coulson’s gaze softened, his tone earnest. “Because, Captain Potter, S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t just looking for soldiers. We’re looking for individuals with your unique blend of skills, experiences, and—most importantly—integrity. You’ve shown dedication and courage on the battlefield, qualities that transcend military service. We believe you have the potential to make a difference on a global scale. The world needs people like you who aren’t afraid to act, who understand the gravity of the threats we face.”
Harry considered Coulson’s words carefully, feeling a swell of unexpected pride at the recognition of his capabilities beyond the battlefield. Yet, doubts lingered about the secretive nature of S.H.I.E.L.D. and what this invitation might entail.
“I appreciate the vote of confidence, Agent Coulson,” Harry replied, his voice steady. “But I’ve only just begun to find my footing after leaving the army. Joining S.H.I.E.L.D.—it’s a big commitment, and I’m not sure I’m ready to jump back into that world.”
Harry was taken aback by the unexpected offer laid before him. A mixture of surprise and relief washed over him—relief that this encounter wasn't about Natasha, but rather something entirely different. As he processed Coulson's words, he couldn't help but release a sigh, not of weariness, but of the tension that had gripped him since Coulson's arrival. To Harry, it was a breath that momentarily lifted the weight of uncertainty from his shoulders, offering him a different path, a new possibility beyond the concerns that had preoccupied his thoughts. Yet, unbeknownst to Harry, Coulson interpreted the exhale as a sign of weariness, mistaking its true nature.
"Did you know, Agent Coulson, that I came dangerously close to being court-martialed for insubordination?" Harry's voice held a hint of bitterness, tinged with the weight of past decisions that still haunted him.
"I didn't know that, Captain," Coulson replied evenly, his demeanour unchanged.
"We had pinpointed a major Taliban commander in a village about 100 kilometres from Kabul," Harry continued, his gaze distant as he recounted the harrowing memory. "The mission was textbook until the final moments." He paused, a heavy sigh escaping him. "Hamdi Al Khalaifi, the leader we targeted, emerged from his hideout with five children—none older than ten—strapped with explosives. He used them as human shields. The snipers were poised, ready to take the shot, but we couldn't risk a detonation that would endanger my team."
Coulson nodded, his expression betraying no emotion as Harry's words settled between them.
"You can guess the rest," Harry said quietly.
"You let him leave," Coulson affirmed, his voice measured.
After a pregnant pause, Harry continued. "I left the military not because I lost my nerve for fieldwork. Even now, I believe I can contribute more by being in the thick of it," Harry explained, his tone resolute. "But I can't blindly follow orders or a chain of command if it contradicts my principles."
In that moment, the weight of that decision, the lives spared but also the turmoil of letting a known threat escape, resonated in Harry's voice. The memory etched deep lines of conflict and regret on his face, reminding him why he struggled within the structured confines of military command. Coulson leaned forward, his expression earnest. "You've seen firsthand how threats transcend borders, Captain Potter. S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't just about following orders; it's about making a real difference on a global scale."
Harry glanced down at the scar on his hand, a reminder of battles fought and lives lost. "I get that. But I've had my fill of structured commands and bureaucracy."
"S.H.I.E.L.D. isn't your typical military outfit," Coulson continued. "We value initiative and independence. Your experience in the field could be invaluable."
Harry hesitated memories of chaos and camaraderie surfacing. "I appreciate the offer, Agent Coulson. It's just... I'm not sure I fit the mould anymore."
"Sometimes, it's those who don't quite fit who bring about the most change," Coulson said softly, his gaze steady on Harry. "Captain, your goal of protecting your men is commendable. But those who sign up, do so knowing the risks. They understand what they're sacrificing for," Coulson reiterated, his voice calm and measured. "You shouldn't let guilt consume you for this."
He paused, letting the weight of his words settle between them. "In our line of work, the boundaries are often blurred. What matters is the outcome—the lives saved, the threats neutralized. You have the skills and the determination. S.H.I.E.L.D. could provide a platform where your principles align with action."
Harry listened, contemplating Coulson's words. He had always struggled with the decisions that compromised his values, yet here was an opportunity to make a difference on a global scale. "I've seen too much unnecessary sacrifice," he finally admitted, his voice edged with frustration.
"And we aim to minimize that, Captain," Coulson assured him. "We need people like you, who understand the human cost but are willing to push forward for the greater good." Harry nodded slowly, his gaze distant as he recalled a painful memory.
"I had a pair of twins under my command," he began quietly. "They were inseparable, always up to some prank or another. Life of the party, those two. I grew close to their family, too—a warm, loving household with seven kids. But in the line of duty, one of the twins... he didn't make it."
Coulson listened attentively, his expression thoughtful.
"They knew the risks," Harry continued, his voice tinged with sorrow. "But it still hurt. The look in the surviving twin's eyes... haunted me. It made me realize that behind every soldier on the battlefield, there's a life. A family waiting, hoping, praying every day for their safe return." Harry's voice caught slightly, emotions raw and palpable.
"Since then, I've made it my mission to bring every man and woman under my command home safely," Harry concluded, his tone firm with resolve.
Coulson nodded in understanding. "The battlefield is rarely what people imagine it to be," he acknowledged quietly, his own experiences colouring his understanding of Harry's words.
In that quiet exchange, the weight of sacrifice, loss, and the human cost of duty hung heavy in the air between them.
“If you change your mind and want to fight for a cause, please contact me,” Coulson replied, offering his card to Harry.
Coulson felt a sense of respect for the young man sitting across from him. Harry's sincerity and depth of character had left an impression. He saw in Harry a person of integrity, someone who had faced tough decisions and carried burdens that weighed heavily on his heart.
Harry accepted it with a nod. "I'll keep that in mind," he said thoughtfully, tucking the card into his pocket. "But for now, let's put this dramatic conversation behind us. How about a few drinks and some old folks singing? It's open mic night, after all."
Coulson's lips quirked into a faint smile at Harry's invitation to enjoy the jovial atmosphere of the open mic night. "I'd love to, but I'm due in London tonight," Coulson explained regretfully, his tone reflecting genuine disappointment. "However, I'll be around for a couple of weeks. Perhaps when I'm back, we can meet up, and swap some war stories over a pint."
Harry's genuine smile in return warmed Coulson's heart. It was rare to meet someone like Harry Potter—someone who, despite his own struggles, still had a compassionate spirit and a willingness to connect with others.
"That sounds like a plan," Harry agreed warmly. "Safe travels to London, Agent Coulson."
With a nod and a handshake, Coulson bid Harry farewell, his thoughts lingering on the young man who had impressed him with his integrity and resilience. As he left the pub, Coulson couldn't help but feel hopeful that Harry might consider SHIELD's offer in the future.
As Harry bid Agent Coulson farewell in the pub's parking lot, he was greeted by his adoptive mother, Dorea, who wore a concerned expression.
"Do you have to leave tomorrow, Harry?" she asked, her voice tinged with worry. "Why don't you stay for a while longer?"
Harry smiled warmly at Dorea and gave her a quick peck on the cheek. "I've been away from London for some time now, Dorea. It's time for me to start looking for a job and get back on my feet. But thank you for worrying about me. I really am doing well."
Dorea's brow furrowed slightly as she continued, her concern shifting to another matter close to her heart. "And what about Natalie? Is everything okay between the two of you? It's been months since you've seen her. It worries me."
Harry hesitated for a moment, his gaze dropping briefly before meeting his mother's eyes again with a reassuring smile. "Everything's fine, Dorea," he said softly. "Natalie is traveling for work at the moment. She sends me postcards from wherever she is. Currently, she's on a project in Budapest."
"In Budapest?" Dorea gasped softly. "Wasn't there a recent terrorist attack there? They blew up a five-story building just a few days ago."
Harry nodded solemnly, keeping up the facade to spare Dorea any unnecessary concern. "I haven't been able to get in touch with her recently, but I'm sure she'll reach out soon."
"If you say so," Dorea replied softly, her worry etched on her face. She gently guided Harry back into the warmth of the pub, wanting to distract him from the weight on his shoulders and offer him solace in familiar surroundings.
Inside, as Harry and Dorea settled into a quiet corner, the hubbub of the open mic night continued around them. Dorea reached out and took Harry's hand in hers, a silent gesture of love and support between mother and son.
"Harry," she began softly, her voice filled with maternal warmth, "you know you can talk to me about anything, right? I may not always understand your world, but I'll always be here for you."
Harry squeezed her hand gratefully, feeling the comfort of her presence and the unconditional love she offered. "I know," he replied, his voice tinged with emotion. "Thank you."
They sat together in companionable silence, the music and laughter of the pub wrapping around them like a warm blanket. In that moment, Harry felt a sense of peace amidst the turmoil of his thoughts, knowing that no matter what challenges lay ahead, he had the Richards' unwavering support and love to guide him through.
