Chapter 1
FANDOMS:
- Marvel Cinematic Universe.
- DC Universe.
- Teen Wolf.
- Harry Potter.
RELATIONSHIPS (Due to limited tags):
- Jason Todd and Harry Potter.
- Stiles Stilinski and Derek Hale.
- Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd.
- Isaac Lahey and Tim Drake.
- Allison Argent and Scott McCall.
- Peter Hale and Severus Snape.
- Lily Evans and Christopher Argent.
- James Potter and Bruce Wayne.
- John Stilinski and Claudia Stilinski.
- Molly Weasley and Arthur Weasley.
- Ron Weasley and Hermione Granger.
- Ginny Weasley and Luna Lovegood.
- Fred Weasley and George Weasley and Draco Malfoy.
- Tony Stark and Loki.
- Fleur Delacour and Bill Weasley.
- Sirius Black and Remus Lupin.
- Dick Grayson and Charlie Weasley.
- Damian Wayne and Peter Parker.
- Bucky Barnes and Steve Rodgers.
- Bruce Banner and Stephen Strange.
- Pepper Potts and James Rhodes.
- Happy Hogan and May Parker.
- Shuri and MJ.
- Martha Wayne and Thomas Wayne.
- John Grayson and Mary Grayson.
- Euphemia Potter and Fleamont Potter.
- Phil Coulson and Clint Barton.
- Pepper Potts and Natasha Romanov.
Chapter 1
When Harry comes too, he’s tied up to a post, much like one of those used in movies and books as a self-scarifying act. A ritual. All in all, something that Harry doesn’t want to be a part of. Blinking away the dizziness in his gaze, Harry stares around the warehouse they’re shackled in, taking note of the others tied down to posts near to him. they’re still a sizeable distance away, so even if their legs weren’t tied down, they wouldn’t be able to kick at each other to wake them up.
Watching in amusement as the others sleep on, he takes to committing their features down in his brain, trying to remember if he’s seen them somewhere, so that he knows who they’re dealing with on the other side. There’s only one familiar face and that’s Hermione Granger. The others he knows vaguely and just about barely remembers their names—there’s only one that he doesn’t know. This one has black hair with a white streak running down his fringe. His features are masculine, sharp, and strong.
Moving on from the handsome male, Harry logs Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin down in his brain. Possible people that could want them was the people that knew about the supernatural. Then there’s Peter Parker and Pepper Potts, two people close to billionaire Tony Stark, one of which is the esteemed Spiderman. Villains from the Avengers past maybe. After that, there’s Dick Grayson, who Harry knows has a day job of a policemen in Bludhaven and a night job as Nightwing, previously the first Robin. Anyone to do with Batman could want him.
Sighing softly, Harry lets his head thump back against the stump. He takes to waiting for the others to wake up, looking around the warehouse to see if there are any exits or entrances that he can see. When he only sees two; two big double doors leading into the warehouse and what looks like a fire exit for emergencies near the back corner where there are boxes stacked high.
Someone groans. Harry glances over at Stiles, watching him wake up, blinking blearily around the place they’re held. Sniffing dismissively when the others begin to stir, he turns to stare at Hermione, willing her to wake up, but to no avail. All the others are awake, the handsome male and Dick Grayson struggling to get out of the bonds for a long moment before they ultimately give up, all signs of unconsciousness out of their eyes, replaced with awareness and alarm. Hermione’s the last to wake, heartbeat increasing, breathing picking up as her eyes dart around the warehouse, tugging at the bonds tying her to the stump.
“What the—?” Hermione whispers, falling still, eyeing the others before her gaze fell onto Harry. “Harry!” She says in relief. Harry cracks a smile. “Where are we? Do you know these other people?”
“Vaguely.” Harry nods before pausing. “I know everyone’s names except his.” Harry jerks his head to the handsome male, who’s staring right at him, head tilted to the side. His eyes are a teal colour, pretty and bright. His lips thin for a moment.
“Jason Todd.” He introduces himself. Hermione inhales gently.
“Bruce Wayne’s ward.” She whispers, eyes going to Dick. “And you too. Dick Grayson.”
“Bruce Wayne’s wards.” Harry agrees, looking at the others. “And the others, close to Tony Stark, the red-head elder female and teenager. Pepper Potts and Peter Parker. The younger red-head and the one next to her, Lydia Martin, and Stiles Stilinski. Close to Derek Hale.” Hermione’s eyes shoot to Harry’s, widening with fear.
“Harry, you don’t think …” She stops, seeing Harry’s grim face. Her head hangs low for a long moment. “The war was supposed to be over. Over. Done. Finished.” Hermione looks up, tears dripping down her face. “Haven’t we suffered enough? I have a seven month year old daughter, Harry.”
“And she won’t get hurt.” Harry promises wiggling a little in his binds. “Can you get free?”
“No, they’ve added some sort of dampener on the ropes. I can feel it draining my magical core.” Hermione’s tired, wet eyes go up to the ceiling. Then she pauses. “Can’t you feel it?”
“Not really.” Harry admits.
Hermione snorts a little. “Of course. You’re much more powerful than I am. A magical core dampener on me would drain me. You, it would barely affect. See if you can burn through your bindings. Get yourself free.” Harry closes his eyes, focusing on that spot in his gut and just beneath his heart that housed the fiery core of his magic, raging and fighting to get free. He opens to door and feels it build and build until it unleashes, the smell of burning fabric greeting his nose. He pulls his magic back, sealing the lid on his core, stumbling a little on numb legs. “Yes.” Hermione giggles happily.
Harry grins back, lurching towards Hermione, only to shout in pain as a whispered voice hisses from the shadows. “Diffindo.” Blood drips from his leg, running in rivets towards the floor. Harry inhales sharply, grasping at his injury, head snapping to the side to see someone step out of the safety of darkness, black eyes staring straight into Harry’s.
“Harry Potter. We meet again.” Rodoloph Lestrange takes another step forward, blasting Harry back with another cutting curse that cuts into his shoulder. He goes down, gasping wetly, blood welling in his mouth from a bite to his cheek.
“Lestrange.” Harry spits out the taste of blood from his mouth, getting to his feet, grabbing some of his burnt rope, winding it around his leg, wrapping and tightening around it until it hurts. Lestrange watches him as he does it, mirth sparkling in his eyes. “Why have you taken us?”
“You see,” Lestrange steps forward once more, eyes sparkling, “you may not know it, but all these people have relations to you. Hermione Granger, one of your best friends from school, through thick and thin you two managed to stay friends. Pepper Potts and Peter Parker, ex-girlfriend, and honorary son to Tony Stark, who is—can you believe it?—half-brother to James Potter, your father.”
“What?” Harry breathes.
Lestrange snickers at his wide eyes. “Then there’s Stiles Stilinski and Lydia Martin, both packmates to Derek Hale, Cora Hale and Peter Hale, the last living Hale’s alive. Werewolves.” He scoffs in disgust, expression tightening. “Your father, James was the Alpha of what they called the Marauder pack, where they spent over a year with the Hale’s before they went into hiding with you after my Lord got wind of the prophecy and he made it his mission to hunt you down and kill you at one and a half years old.” He smirks at the gasps rushing through the warehouse. “Peter Hale got close to Remus Lupin and Sirius Black, whereas Lily Evans got close to a hunter Christopher Argent, who’s daughter is Allison Argent, packmate of the Hale’s. Derek Hale got close to you, little one year old Harry who would always magic himself into Derek’s arm. You became like brothers. Pack mates.”
“You’re lying.” Harry whispers. “Remus nor Sirius ever talked about the Hales.”
Lestrange ignores him in his entirety. “And then there’s Jason Todd and Dick Grayson, eldest’s of Bruce Wayne’s wards, one of which he’s nicknamed Batman due to his nightly job. However, you see, after finishing Hogwarts, James Potter travelled to Gotham to mingle there, along with his pack. That’s where Potter met Bruce Wayne, and they got to talking. A year later, James left Gotham, pregnant … with you. You see, Lily Evans isn’t your mother. James Potter isn’t your sire but your bearer. Your sire is Bruce Wayne. You’re his eldest biological son. You’re half brother is Damian Wayne, son of Bruce Wayne and Talia al Ghul.”
“Al Ghul?” Harry whispers, taking a step back, hand snapping to his injury. The children of Bruce Wayne are breathing loudly, eyes darting between the duo. Lestrange snickers.
“You know the name.” Lestrange nods in acknowledgement. “Because wasn’t it you that battled against the Al Ghul clan and won when you heard of the mistreatment of children going through the League of Assassins? Wasn’t it you that put a knife through Ra Al Ghul’s heart?”
“Ra Al Ghul was a heartless bastard that deserved to die.” Harry lifts his chin, glaring at Lestrange, ignoring the gasps from the vigilantes. Lestrange hums.
“Funny you should say that.” Lestrange takes another step forward. “Did you know that Lily Evans and James Potter’s bodies where never found? Their wills weren’t open? In fact, Gringotts said they couldn’t open them and that normally doesn’t happen unless the wills they’re trying to open aren’t unlocked because the people that wrote them and gave their blood aren’tdead. And who was the person that told everyone you vanquished the Dark Lord and said that Lily Evans and James Potter were your parents? Who left you at Lily Evan’s muggle hating sisters house?” Lestrange grins, sharp and evil. “Oh yes, Dumbledore.”
“Dumbledore kidnapped James Potter and Lily Evans. They’re detained somewhere. It was found out that Pettigrew was a spy, a double spy … for Dumbledore. He betrayed the Dark Lord and betrayed James Potter. You were kidnapped from your bearer and handed to someone you have no blood relation to so there were no blood wards on Privet Drive. You died for nothing. Were raised to fight someone all your life for nothing. You see, we examined the prophecy and found it was a fake, so you were hunted for nothing.” Lestrange shakes his head, tutting a little.
“Harry … Harry, it makes sense.” Hermione whispers, eyes wide. “Trelawney always struck me as a fake, a fraud, unlike her sister who actually was a seer. It makes sense. False prophecy, false problem for him to win, for him to keep his name. People were starting to doubt him. Your grandparents were starting to doubt him then they died mysteriously from dragon pox in a year before you were conceived. That’s probably why your bearer went to Gotham, to get far away from Britain, away from where his parents died, the war, the chaos. Harry, it makes sense.”
“But everyone always says I have my mothers eyes.” Harry whispers, eyes going to Hermione. Her face softens.
“Harry, Euphemia Potter, your grandmother had pale green eyes. Bruce Wayne’s mother, Martha Wayne, she had emerald green eyes. It may have skipped James Potter and Bruce Wayne, but it resurfaced in you. You don’t have your mothers eyes because you don’t have a mother—you have your grandmother’s eyes.” Hermione smiles reassuringly at him. “This is why we couldn’t find a marriage report for the two when we went looking through official records to learn more about your families history, nor a bonding report. Your grandparents, great-grandparents, aunts, uncle, all of your ancestors had one except your parents.”
“Because James Potter and Lily Evans were never married in the first place. They were never together.” Harry realises, eyes darting to Lestrange, who is now smirking.
“Exactly. Now,” Lestrange shoots a spell that stitches up his injury and then another that binds him to the stump he was previously at, “we just have to wait for the others to arrive. Then, our show can begin.” With another flick, the ropes strengthens. Harry cries out, head lolling to the side when the suck of his magic leeches onto his core. A furrow begins between his eyebrows, thinning his mouth as sweat drips from his temple down his face. When he looks up, Lestrange is gone, and the warehouse is utterly silent.
“So we’re here as a plot to get back at you who’s … related to one of the people we love—who you have no idea who they were and how they’re related to you. During which they want a confrontation with the people related to you.” Pepper says, humming, chuckling softly, if a little maniacally. “God and I thought that dating Tony could get exciting at times. I dread for the person that gets involved with you.” She muses. Hermione wets her lips, hesitating for a long moment as Harry grimaces, the ropes binding him draining him dry.
“Harry … if what Lestrange has said is true and James Potter is really truly alive …”
“My father’s dead, Mione.” Harry whispers tiredly, voice rough and crackling. Hermione flinches back before steeling herself.
“If it’s true then you’re not an orphan … you have two parents out there—”
“One of which doesn’t know I exist because he doesn’t know about magic and sure as hell doesn’t know that he got a fucking man pregnant!” Harry says, voice rising incredulously, eyes snapping to Hermione. “The other in which is probably tied up somewhere, malnourished, probably half-insane, not knowing how long has passed, still thinking I’m that one year old toddler he last saw. Face it, Mione, I’m better off as an orphan.” Harry’s head thumps against the stump. “I haven’t needed parents for seventeen year … I don’t need them now.”
“But there’s still a chance—”
“Hermione, just leave it, okay?” Harry snaps, glaring at her for a moment. She concedes, sighing through her nose, turning to face the door when five minutes pass and it’s thrown open. Lestrange glides in, others in black robes, white ebony masks over their faces following, all behind a person who they’re holding at gun point.
“Ron!” Hermione calls, grinning in relief. “Where’s Rosie?”
“At my mum’s.” Ron replies, nodding to Harry. “Got yourself into another problem, huh, Har?”
“You have no idea.” Harry says tiredly, head falling back, lolling to the side as he takes a look at the others standing near to Ron; the others that have come for the other hostages. Derek Hale’s there, along with Peter and Cora Hale and Scott McCall and Allison Argent, McCall’s mate, and girlfriend. Tony Stark’s come with James “Bucky” Barnes, Steve Rodgers, and the others from his Avengers team intuitive thing he’s a part of. Bruce Wayne’s come with Damian Wayne and Tim Drake, the other of his wards, Alfred Pennyworth, their butler and someone close to the Bat family, and someone else he recognises, though why she’s there he has no idea.
“Potter, what’re you doing here?”
“Just hanging around you know, Kyle?” Selina’s lips tick up into a smirk.
“Got yourself into a jiffy, huh?”
“Looks like it.” Harry snickers a little, wincing, eyes going to the other red-head standing next to Rogers, then the bowman. “Hello, Romanova, Barton.”
“Potter.” Natasha greets whilst Clint merely smiles, nodding in acknowledgement before his face returns to that grim line as he focuses on Peter Parker tied up. They must’ve had a dampener like with the wizard and witches magic otherwise Parker’s spider power-strength would’ve easily been able to break it.
“Do you just know every agent?” Grayson demands incredulously.
“Only the people that I’ve kicked their ass. I was on an assignment with Romanova and Barton. Selina … she tried to steal something from one of my estates—let’s just say she didn’t get too far.”
“Yeah, cause this brutes materialises from the shadows like Batsy and flips me, kicking me in the gut and taking the breath from my lungs. Next thing I know, I’m tied to a chair and spilling my life story to Potter before he sends me on my merry way back to Gotham. It was quite impressive.” Selina nods, smirk widening when Harry does nothing but roll his eyes.
“I have a lot of enemies.” Is all he says. Ron snorts a little.
“You’ve got that right.” Harry glares a little at him, narrowing his gaze when the ginger does nothing but snicker harder.
“Enough.” Lestrange snaps, glowering at Harry as he glides forward. With a flick of his wand, Harry’s binds disappear, and he falls to the floor, groaning a little as his magic slowly returns, his core sore and low. Another flick and Hermione’s loose, falling to the floor as well. “Let’s see if you’ve still got that saviour complex, Potter.” Lestrange sends a Diffindo at Hermione, who looks up, eyes wide in fear and alarm. Ron shouts, lurching forward, only to be stilled by the male holding him at wand point.
Harry neatly slides between them, standing strong in front of Hermione. The hex hits him in the stomach and he gasps, hand snapping to his gut, where there’s a long gash, blood beginning to seep into his white shirt. “Harry.” Hermione whispers. Ron shouts his name, intending to go forward again but he’s once more stilled by the male at his back.
Lestrange tuts. “I’d thought for sure you’d given up that pesky hero complex. She’s a mudblood, Potter. A no good—” Lestrange lurching back when Harry throws himself at him, getting a punch around the face before he’s kicked in his injury, forced to the floor on his knees. Wiping at the blood that drips from his nose, Lestrange stares with darkened eyes at Harry. “Your father—Bruce Wayne—” someone gasps in the warehouse but Harry’s too busy clutching at his injury, panting through the pain, “—didn’t know that when James Potter left Gotham, he was pregnant with you. He didn’t know he had a son. Two years after you were born, he took in Dick Grayson, heir to the Flying Grayson’s … Sirius Black was distantly related to them but by then he was already in Azkaban, wrongfully convicted of a murder that hadn’t even happened.”
Harry coughs, blood splattering the floor. He bares bloody teeth at Lestrange. “If you’re going to kill me, Lestrange, just get it over and down with. Save the monologuing speech, I’ve went through enough bad guys to know they’re all the same. This one’s no different.”
“You’re not going to die, Potter.” Lestrange rolls his eyes. He flicks his wand and Harry’s wound stitches up beneath his shirt. “If I wanted you dead, you’d be dead.”
“Then what the bloody hell do you fucking want, Lestrange?” Harry snarls, glaring darkly up at the Death Eater.
“For your world—your perfectly golden world—to crumble beneath you until nothing you’ve thought true feels real anymore.” Lestrange circles Harry slowly, gliding along the concrete. He stops behind Harry, stare going to Tony Stark. “Your father had a half-brother, only one, named Tony Stark.” Stark’s eyes widen. “It was not Howard Stark who sired you, but Fleamont Potter, father of James who had a child with Maria Stark nee Carbonell. Just like Bruce Wayne, Fleamont Potter was unaware he had a child, a squib one no less.” Lestrange scoffs in disgust.
“So what?” Harry breathes. “You out information I didn’t know? Relations I had no clue existed? What do you get out of that? I get going after me—but what have the others done to you? What’s in it for you to drag them all down here?”
“Smart, Potter.” Lestrange hums. “I have third parties that have paid a decent sum of money to get certain individuals down here that need to die. After I send their heads to my contractor, and I’ve finished outing your life and secrets, then I’ll hunt down your godson, Edward “Teddy” Regulus Lupin-Black and kill him. I heard you adopted him after Nymphadora Tonks was killed and Remus Lupin went missing, body unfound. He’s with his grandmother now, hmm, Andromeda Tonks nee Black, my sister in law. How old is dear Teddy now? Two? Three?”
“You touch him, and I swear Lestrange, they won’t even recognise your body after I’m through with you.” Harry hisses, grinding his teeth together when Lestrange does nothing but laugh.
“You and what army, Potter? There’s no one here for you to lead. Not like you lead the winning side of the war. A wizarding world’s own Captain America.” Lestrange glances at Steve Rogers, who’s lips are thinned into a dark frown. Stark’s still staring at Harry, taking his face in, trying to note down his half-brother’s son, his estranged nephew. “Well, Potter, let’s see how strong you really are. I have some people I’d like to introduce you too once more.” He snaps his fingers twice in rapid procession. “Bring them in.”
Four unkempt, dirty figures are dragged into the room. One is Remus Lupin, who’s eyes are flashing amber and his normal brown, fangs elongated. It’s unlike any of the normal transformations Harry has ever seen. One is Sirius Black, long hair that was once luscious and long is cut shoulder length, choppy and messy. His dark eyes are bright and face gaunt. The other two are people that punch the breath from his lungs.
James Potter and Lily Evans stare around the warehouse, faces thin but eyes determined, not having lost their spark despite how long they’ve been captive. Their clothes are baggy and dirty, filled with grime. Lily’s hair is matted and red colour so unwashed it look like a dark brown colour. James’s glassy are sooty but uncracked, miracle as it were.
James’s eyes focus onto Harry, widening, mouth parting around his son’s name. “Harry. Morgana, you’re so big.” His voice cracks with emotion. Tears well in Harry’s eyes, dripping down his face.
“Dad. Siri. Remy. Lily.” He breathes. James brings his head back, slamming his head into his captives nose, breaking it instantly. Blood falls as he curses, pressing his hands to his face as James slips free, stumbling on shaky legs over to his son. The male lurches forward to grab him but Lestrange clears his throat, shaking his head, watching with intense eyes as James sinks beside his son, collecting him in his arms. Harry sags forward, burying his face in his father neck, shaky breaths wafting on his father’s skin.
“My sweet baby boy.” James whispers, pressing a kiss to Harry’s hair. His magic, drained as it were, feels warm to the touch and though strange, motherly. It wraps him up like a warm blanket, the feeling of home and safety taking over, causing more tears to flow in rivets down his cheeks.
“Potter—”
“Speak to my son again, Lestrange and I’ll cut your balls off and string you up by your cock, watching as you bleed out and become nothing but a husk of the human you were. Trust me, I don’t need a fucking wand to kill you. And I will, I swear on magic itself.” Lestrange falters as Sirius starts to wheeze out laughter.
“Damn, Jamie, you haven’t changed at all.” Sirius coughs roughly. Remus whines, only to growl as he gets kicked in the knee, leg giving way.
“Touch my beta and you’re dead!” James snarls, glaring at the male, who takes a physical step back at the look on his face. Sirius grabs onto Remus, pulling him up and into his arms, growling at the others who make to break them apart. “I wouldn’t. Sirius is very protective over his mate.” James smirks, pressing another kiss to Harry’s temple when he looks up and towards the mated pair. His eyes dart to the others in the warehouse, stopping on the Hale’s. “Oh, hello, Peter … Derek? Cora? God, you’re even bigger than my Prongslet.” He sends them a perplexed look, glancing at the others, only to stop on Bruce.
“I … oh … hello, Bruce.” James cheeks go red. Bruce chuckles.
“Hello, James.” Bruce’s eyebrow arches. “It seems like you have some explaining to do. Like how you gave birth to our son despite having no uterus for it. I’m positive that I was sleeping with a man when we were going out.”
“Ew.” Dick grumbles, still tied to the post. Jason and Damian both roll their eyes whilst Tim makes a noise of agreement.
“I agree. Ew.”
Bruce sends them a glance. “Enough.” Tim pouts. Dick sticks his tongue out.
“Shit.” James whispers, glancing down at Harry, who’s already staring up at him with wide green eyes. James’s hand shakes as he reaches for Harry’s face, caressing his cheek gently, choking back a sob. “You look just like your grandmother.” James blinks rapidly, the tears that’d been lingering on his lash line tumbling down his face. Harry’s smile is strained and vulnerable.
“I do?” James nods, lump in his throat. He reaches for Harry’s glasses, adjusting them a little.
“Though you’ve got the Potter’s terrible eyesight. Sorry ‘bout that.” James jokes. Lestrange glares at them.
“Enough!” His voice is loud and shrill. His eyes are manic. “Move out the way, Potter senior. If this whole plot isn’t going to work then I’m going to kill Potter junior for what happened to my wife. Bella didn’t deserve what happened to her—it was all his fault! She’s dead and you’re going to die too! I’m going to be the one to kill you!” When James refuses to move, staring up at him with steely determined eyes, Lestrange growls. “Move out the way!”
“You won’t touch my son.” James hisses, eyes practically glowing.
“Fine. I’ll just have to kill you both. Sectumsempra!”
“No!” Sirius screams, making to rush forward, stumbling on weak legs. Harry squeezes his eyes shut, waiting for the curse to hit him when nothing comes, the sound of someone’s body hitting the floor. Wet gasping greets his ears. He peels his eyes open, seeing dirty brown-red hair splayed about on the concrete, Lily Evan’s eyes staring up at the ceiling before darting to where James is staring at her with wide eyes.
“Evans … why …?”
“All you’ve—” Lily coughs a little, blood staining her teeth. “—all you’ve talked about is your son, Potter. About getting back to your child, reuniting with him. There’s someone waiting for you on the other side, someone who missed you whilst you were gone. Me?” She coughs once more, chest making strange, aborted motions that makes tears drip down her face. “My parents died. My sister hates me. They already think I’m dead. Might as well make it that way. I’m not strong like you are, James. I gave up a long time ago.”
“But … Chris and Ally …” James sobs. Lily hums, eyelashes fluttering.
“I doubt the Argent family remembers me. It was a long time ago that we stayed with the Hale’s. Nearly twenty years ago. Ally-cat was only tiny. Only one years old.” Lily seizes, once, twice before falling still. Harry starts to cry before a scream of rage rips from his throat, burning a pathway up his mouth, much like bile, echoing on the warehouse walls. Windows break and the building shakes as Harry expresses his rage at the world, eyes snapping to Lestrange, who’s stumbled back, slamming into the wall, staring at Harry with wide, fearful eyes. Then, his eyes dart away, to where a shadow has started to move, a skeleton figure gliding out of the safety of darkness, grinning darkly.
“I heard you call, Master.” He says.
Lestrange gasps with fear. “Death.” Death’s chilling laughter echoes around the warehouse as everyone’s neck hairs stand on end. Harry’s stands slowly, shakily as Death stops just behind him. “And you—you—you’re …”
“You called for me, Master?”
Harry glances at him. “I want Lily Evans soul back from the Underworld and into the Living Realm.”
“You know the cost, Master, a—”
“A life for a life. I know.” Harry nods, chancing a glance at Lily Evan’s face, expression tranquil and calm, staring with unseeing eyes up at the ceiling. Death hums. Lestrange chokes.
“You’d give your life for hers? You don’t fear Death?” His voice is hushed.
Harry smiles mirthlessly. “I greeted Death like an old friend a long time ago. No, I don’t fear him.” Harry pauses, expression pulling in a fierce grin, showing his teeth in a snarling way. “And what makes you think that I’m the life being forcefully taken?” Harry only gives Lestrange a moment to allow his words to sink in before he’s speaking once more. “Say hello to your wife for me, Lestrange. Tell her Harry Potter, Master of Death, sends his regards.”
Lestrange screams as Death takes a step forward, swinging his scythe in a downward arc. As soon as it connects, Lestrange disappearing in smoke, Lily Evans arches, gasping her first breath after a minutes of being dead. Harry’s eyes shoot to her as she stares, gasping his name. James is crying, thanking her over and over again as he collects her close, scolding her. The others that’re with Lestrange stumble back and towards the exit but Harry thrusts his hands forward, watching the warehouse doors slam shut.
“Master?” Death grins creepily for a long moment.
Harry smirks back. “They’re all yours. Give them hell for me, will ya’?”
“For you, Master? Always.” Death glides over to them, taking their lives and souls in seconds, leaving only terror and fear in their eyes, scream building on their lips. Sirius lurches over to him, tackling him in a hug, spinning in around in circles, crowing in delight.
“That’s my godson!” Sirius screeches, dragging Remus into the hug, then latching onto Hermione and Ron, who’ve crept closer, eyeing them in amusement. “Ron, Hermione! Oh, how glad I am to see you! Though no offense, Ronnikins, but boy am I glad your mother isn’t here.”
“No offense taken. Mum can get overbearing at times.” Ron nods in agreement.
“Where even are we?” Remus asks, glancing around the warehouse.
“A warehouse in America, New Jersey. Welcome to Gotham.” Death says, nodding to Harry. “I shall see you soon, Master.”
“Till we meet again, Death.” Harry replies, watching him melt into the shadows once more before a thought comes to him. “Wait!” The shadows stop condensing for a long moment. “The Hale’s. What happened to them?” The three Hale’s stiffen at the question on what happened to their family. Death’s skeletal face surfaces, ebony white face contorting strangely.
“The Hale’s met their demise in 2006, after a hunter by the name of Kate Argent wrapped their house in mountain ash and mistletoe before setting fire to the residence. Eleven people died. Four children. Seven adults. Why, Master?”
“You took twenty-one souls just now, not including Lestrange. If I ask it of you, will you bring them back? A life for a life?” For there had been one guard to every person they’d carted into the warehouse, each held at either gunpoint or wand point.
“And Laura Hale? She did not die in the fire but was killed by a feral wolf.”
“Her too.” Harry nods, hesitating, glancing at Bruce Wayne, his father, his sire. Apparently he has one of those now. “A-And I want you to bring back Thomas and Martha Wayne.” Bruce and Alfred gasp. “In fact, both sets of my grandparents. So, Fleamont and Euphemia Potter too.” James chokes on a sob, realising that he might have the chance to see his parents once more.
“There are five slots left, Master. Choose carefully.” Death warns.
“I …” Harry gets a flash of people, a young boy being affectionately nick named Robin, inspiration from the original Batman’s side kick, Dick Grayson who’s now named as Nightwing. Of two bodies flipping through the air, of a cut cord snapping, the thump of bodies hitting to floor. Of a man creeping back into the shadows and a boy screaming for his parents as the crowd started to panic. “John and Mary Grayson.”
“Murdered by Tony Zucco. A wrongful death indeed.” Death nods as Dick Grayson chokes on a startled cry. “That’s three slots, Master.”
Another flash. Of laughter, of a woman calling for a young boy called Mischief, eyes a bright amber. Then illness, of being poisoned, made to look like a shrinkage of the brain, of the woman trying to kill the little boy. Hospital bills, tears and the oncoming beeping of the heart monitor failing, a young boy’s hand clutched in the bony hand of the woman.
“Claudia Stilinski.” Harry says, straightening a little. Stiles inhales sharply.
“Poisoned by a dark druid by the name Alan Deaton. He also had a hand in the cutting of the Nementon, of the wrongful death of the original Hale pack.”
Stiles gasps. “W-What?”
“Bastard.” Peter Hale snarls.
“Two slots left, Master.” Death reminds him gently.
Natasha steps forward when Harry hesitates. “Phil Coulson?” Death tilts his head to the side.
“He has not yet entered the Underworld; he is still among the land of the living. His soul was close when Loki’s sceptre pierced him, but he managed to survive as it was not his time. Nick Fury hides it from you all, even now.” Death says, causing the Avengers eyes to widen, Natasha taking a physical step back.
“No, Fury … Fury wouldn’t—he wouldn’t lie to us like that. Not to me and certainly not to Clint …”
“Yes, he would.” Tony says quietly. Natasha glances at him, seeing his solemn look, eyes going through complicated emotions before she nods, standing next to Clint once more, avoiding the others eyes. The warehouse is silent as Harry ponders. Death turns back his way.
“Two slots, Master.”
“Yes, I’m aware.” Harry whispers, eyes growing distant as more wrongful deaths come his way. Of a dark-skinned male being lowered on Derek Hale’s claws, the agonised look in the Alpha’s eyes as the male choked on his own blood, dying by Derek’s hands. Echoes of grieved howls. Then, of blonde hair curling and swinging in the wind at a desperate attempt to escape what looks like an underground vault. Of pained screams as she’s mauled to death.
“Erica Reyes and Vernon Boyd.” Harry says finally. Derek sags, eyes wide as Cora claps a hand to her mouth, eyes filling with tears.
“Very well, Master. I shall see you soon.” Death snaps his fingers. “They shall appear one by one, or in pairs. Only after everything has been explained to each other them will another come.” Death disappears into the shadows after a parting nod to Harry, who nods back, grimacing a little.
“Alright, now that that’s done will someone please fucking let us down?” Jason Todd snaps, glowering at them. Damian Wayne makes a nose, moving towards them, pulling a sword out of nowhere and cutting everyone’s binds.
“Tt, Todd, must you whine so much?” Damian heads over to Dick after he’s cut everyone free, glowering at him as Dick drags him into a hug. Peter Parker rushes over to Tony, smashing into him, clutching at him tightly. Stiles and Lydia are being embraced by their pack in seconds as Jason heads over to Bruce and his pseudo brothers. He waves away Alfred’s fussing.
Harry, feeling the day start to catch up with him, sways to the side dangerously. Someone shouts his name, but Harry’s eyelids are already fluttering close. His vision goes black before he hits the floor. It’s too late for anyone to catch him and soften his fall. He hits the ground hard and doesn’t waken for a long while.