Harry Potter: Syndicate of Heroes

The ringing of the phone brought Harry out of the library. As he passed the guest room, an unusual sound had him glancing in the half-open door. There on her bed was Doreen, sitting cross-legged in front of her pet squirrel and it sounded as though she was talking to the animal or at least attempting to mimic the sounds that the animal was making. It was almost like how everyone always described him of being when he was speaking parseltongue.

The insistent ringing of the phone, though, pulled him onwards.

"Hello? Harry speaking," he said, silencing the phone by picking it up.

"Sparrowhawk!"

"Tony?" Harry asked, before continuing in a rush. "Are you okay? Where are you?"

"Hey, calm down. I'm fine," Tony replied. "Pepper said you'd been a worry-wort. Now I see what she meant."

"What happened?" Harry demanded.

"Hey, you know. Got involved with some bad guys that I probably shouldn't have. But they learnt their lesson and won't do it again," Tony replied, giving Harry no useful details.

"And you're alright?" Harry insisted.

"Yeah. A bit banged up and bruised. Pepper's going to need some medical help, but I'll have her put right in a couple of days, tops," Tony replied.

"Pepper was hurt?" Harry asked anxiously. "How?"

"Those bad guys I mentioned. Captured her thinking that they could use her to get to me. I showed them the error of their ways, though," Tony said vaguely. "Anyway, that's not why I called."

Harry sighed. It seemed that if he wanted the whole story, then he'd have to go see Pepper. Which sounded like a good idea anyway.

"So, why did you call then?" Harry asked.

"Mostly to stop you being a worry-wizard. But also to tell you that me and Pepper are moving to the Tower. It's all but done. Party in two weeks. We'll get the gang back together, have a few drinks, a few laughs, the whole enchilada," Tony said.

"The Tower's nearly finished? About time. And a party sounds good, Tony, or at least, seeing everyone again. Let me know when and where," Harry said.

"I'll send an invite or you can just use your magical voodoo to work out when all by yourself," Tony replied. "Better run. Looks like Pepper's waking up."

"Thanks, Tony. Take care of yourself. And Pepper, too," Harry said.

"You know Tony Stark?" a voice behind him asked as he put the phone down.

Harry turned to see a wide-eyed Doreen staring at him, Monkey Joe perched on her shoulder like he often was.

"We've met a few times," Harry replied nonchalantly.

"That is sooo cool!" Doreen nearly squealed. "You have to introduce me."

"Well, Tony is moving to New York soon. I'll see what I can do, but no promises," Harry temporised.

Doreen nodded her head eagerly, her brown eyes shining with excitement.

ooo00ooo

The marvel of computers that talked was an amazing blessing to a blind person. And especially to a blind lawyer.

"Work history of James Broadshaw," Matt instructed the computer on his desk. "List in reverse order."

"Searching. Results found. Current employer: Eastwell Mining. Time of employment: six years."

Matt frowned, despite the good news. This was another point that could be used to vindicate Felicia Hardy of the crime of murdering Mister Broadshaw. Apart from the 'ex-boyfriend of my friend' connection, there was nothing to link the two together. And with nothing to link them and only circumstantial evidence, it looked to be an easy case to win.

That didn't mean that Matt's curiosity bone wasn't itching, though. And he was sure that it would be something that the Prosecutor would be questioning his client about as well: why was Miss Hardy in Mister Broadshaw's apartment in the first place? Her reasoning seemed rather slim.

And when Matt had questioned said friend, he detected the lie. The two had dated at one time. Briefly. But there had never been anything of the young woman's left at Mister Broadshaw's apartment, regardless of what Miss Hardy claimed that she believed.

"So why were you there, Miss Hardy?" Matt asked.

"Search for location of Miss Hardy?" the computer queried.

Matt's hand shot out, intending to shut the computer down but a fraction of an inch from the button, he paused.

That might not actually be a bad idea, he mused.

Whatever reason that she had for being there, she hadn't achieved it. And odds were that she may attempt to go back. Most people did, at least the ones that thought that they could get away with it. And Miss Hardy's father was a renowned cat burglar; who knew what sorts of skills she'd picked up from him?

A shift of his head let the sunlight fall on Matt's face telling him that it was getting late in the day. It was almost time to go home. And then, once night had fallen, his real work could begin.

ooo00ooo

Harry'd learnt very early into their first patrol and search that trying to talk to Spider-man while he was web-slinging was incredibly frustrating. With Harry on his lightning bolt broom flying at a constant height and Spider-man using his webs to get around, they were never on the same level long enough to hold a conversation.

That didn't stop the web-head from trying, though. Every time they were close to the same height, he'd spurt out a few words, maybe even a phrase. But then he'd either continue his swing up or be swinging down and away.

After the first hour of it, Harry'd finally had enough and simply stopped responding. They could talk when they were resting on the top of a rooftop, surveying the city below. And talk they did. Spider-man was full of questions: how did Harry become the Mage? What was it like in Britain growing up? Is magic a genetic ability?

And then, after Harry'd let slip something of the war, the questions altered slightly to more understand what it was like having that sort of responsibility thrust upon his shoulders. The two had gotten quite philosophical at times, debating the merits of doing what was right over what was easy and the mistakes that they'd made by doing the wrong thing, even if it was for what they'd thought was a good reason or with good intentions at the time.

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