Shadowflame

Now, if you could zoom out from the sinister grin of Lex Luthor, you'd see a scene almost too perfect for the cover of Supervillains Monthly. Sunlight cascaded through the tallest windows in all of Metropolis, framing Lex in the golden glow of late afternoon like he was some kind of dark prince in a high-rise castle. He was in his custom-built, ultra-modern office, the kind that makes the words "power" and "money" feel like they need a rebranding. You'd half expect a pet tiger to stroll by or maybe an ominous thunderstorm to roll in on cue. Instead, it was Lex, lounging in a chair that probably cost more than the average Metropolis brownstone.

The soft clicking of heels signaled the arrival of Miss Tessmacher, his right-hand woman. She crossed the vast expanse of polished floor, carrying a small metal case like it contained a world-altering secret—which, frankly, it did. Lex straightened ever so slightly as she approached, his gaze riveted on that case, which held the prize he'd been waiting for: a few drops of Supergirl's blood. Thanks to Lex's habit of having "friends" in low places, his people in Happy Harbor had managed to collect those precious drops after the dust-up between Supergirl, Superman, Starfire, Wonder Woman, Shadowflame, and Lobo himself.

"Miss Tessmacher," he said, his voice a low purr that could only mean he was about to pull something wildly unethical—and love every second of it. "Did everything proceed… as planned?"

Miss Tessmacher nodded, setting the case down in front of him. She kept her expression professional, though you could practically see the question in her eyes: What, exactly, is he planning to do with Supergirl's blood? But she was smart enough not to ask.

"Yes, Mr. Luthor," she replied, barely suppressing a small smile of her own. "The sample is exactly as you requested."

Lex's fingers stretched toward the case like a miser reaching for a gold coin. A predatory smile played across his face as he opened it, revealing the vials inside. Perfect, he thought. This was the key to Project Galatea, his audacious plan to create a super-powered being in a lab—a creature with all the strength of a Kryptonian but programmed with loyalty only to him. If Superman and Supergirl wanted a monopoly on planet-saving powers, Lex was ready to rewrite the rulebook. And the best part? His creation wouldn't be bogged down by pesky things like morals.

But even Project Galatea was just one piece of the puzzle. Project Kr was coming along as well, another secret weapon in his arsenal. Lex never did anything halfway, and his vision for Metropolis (and the world, eventually) wasn't about to be limited by Kryptonians with soft spots for humanity. No, in Lex's world, humanity would be on top—his humanity.

In his mind, he wasn't just some business mogul or corrupt politician. He was an architect of a new era, the ultimate humanist who'd save humanity from its own weakness—if he had to bend the definition of "saving" a little in the process. And this little case in his hands? It was his ticket to ensuring that future went according to his vision.

Lex closed the case with a click, looking over at Miss Tessmacher with that same dangerous smirk. "Thank you, Miss Tessmacher. You've done a fine job," he said, dismissing her with a nod.

Once the door closed behind her, Lex steepled his fingers again, thinking about the next steps. The lab, the scientists, the… volunteers… all were in place. Project Galatea and Project Kr would soon be ready. The world would come to realize that if you wanted something done right, you didn't rely on aliens with conflicting loyalties and inconvenient compassion. You trusted Lex Luthor.

In the reflection of his office window, he saw the Metropolis skyline stretching out before him, unaware of the storm brewing in Lex's tower. And if everything went to plan, that skyline would soon reflect a world that Lex Luthor controlled from the shadows. One super-soldier, one plan, one brilliant act of "heroism" at a time.

—

I was trying to enjoy a quiet lunch at Mount Justice, surrounded by friends and girlfriends (yes, plural, and yes, I'm still figuring out how to navigate that whole "dating two awesome women" thing), when I got pulled into a conversation with Sirius, Remus, and Talia. The food was good—okay, maybe not great, but I wasn't about to complain in front of Kori or Kara, because they'd both give me that look. You know, the one where they make me feel like a complete idiot for whining about minor things.

Anyway, Sirius starts talking with that half-smile of his—the one that's somehow both reassuring and terrifying at the same time.

"So, about Nyssa…" he starts, and I immediately sit up straighter, because if there's one thing I've learned, it's that when Sirius uses that tone of voice, it's time to listen.

Talia, of course, looks perfectly composed, but I can tell she's been ruminating on this. "She came to our office in New York," she says, her eyes narrowing just a bit. "A meeting with us, under the guise of diplomacy. I think she wants to unsettle us."

"Unsettle?" I repeat, taking a bite of my sandwich like it's no big deal. "Why?"

"Because that's how Nyssa works," Remus jumps in, with his usual calmness. "She's a master of making people second-guess everything. And we don't know what her agenda is yet."

"Great, so we're already on edge. Just what I needed," I mutter, though not without some humor. If I'd learned anything from hanging out with wizards and heroes, it was that paranoia was practically a full-time job.

"And then there's the little matter of our ongoing project," Sirius adds, eyeing me with that fatherly-but-also-who-are-you kid vibe. "Talia's plan to take over the League of Assassins."

That's when my sandwich almost becomes an involuntary projectile. "Wait—what?"

Talia gives me a flat stare. "You knew that was coming. And yes, the plan is for you to take the reins, Shadowflame." She says it like it's the most casual thing in the world, like she's asking me to pass the salt.

"Yeah, no problem. Just add it to my to-do list next to 'learn to control my supernova powers' and 'train as a magical wizard-hero.'" I roll my eyes but know she's right. As if being part-Amazonian and part-wizard isn't already complicated enough, now I'm expected to take down the most dangerous assassination organization in the world.

"Once the League is under your control, you'll keep it out of the hands of people like Deathstroke," Talia adds, her voice steady. "And Nyssa."

I just stare at her. "Oh, well, that sounds easy. Totally."

There's a long pause. Remus's eyebrows lift in that way that means he's about to throw in some sage advice. "You know that we've been training a lot of your friends to help with this, right?"

"Yeah, pretty much everyone who isn't already a super-powered freak like me," I reply, tapping the side of my head. "They're all pretty great with magic, and Talia has been showing them some of the basics of combat, stealth, and strategy. They'll be solid backup."

Sirius grins. "It's always nice to have a few magic-wielding friends at your back."

I lean back in my chair, rubbing my temples. "If by 'solid' you mean 'wildly unpredictable and prone to making the situation worse,' then yeah. You could say that." I mean, it's true. With Fred and George, nothing is ever easy.

"Right, and now we have another bit of business to discuss," Talia continues, leaning forward slightly. "This weekend, you're meeting with Doctor Fate, correct?"

The words hit me like a bucket of cold water. I nearly choke on my drink. "Yup!"

Sirius and Remus look at me blankly, so I take a deep breath and launch into an explanation. "Okay, so Doctor Fate is this ridiculously powerful magic user—he's, like, the equivalent of a walking ancient artifact. The whole 'Doctor Fate' thing is more of a title than a name, though. It's passed down through a magical helmet that chooses its wearer. Think of him as kind of a mystical superhero."

Remus raises an eyebrow. "And you're meeting with him… Why?"

"Because Wonder Woman, uh, wants me to," I say, wincing at the irony of that sentence. "Apparently, Doctor Fate wants to teach me his version of magic. I mean, the Mystic Arts are a little different from the magic back home, but I guess learning from the best can't hurt." I pause, adding with a smirk, "Plus, I've heard rumors that the dude has a super impressive helmet. I'm hoping to get a look at it."

Sirius and Remus exchange glances, neither of them quite understanding, but I can tell they're both trying their best to follow along. "Just… be careful, Harry," Sirius says after a beat. "You don't want to get in over your head."

I give him a crooked smile. "Don't worry. I've got a few things in mind. Plus, I've survived a few apocalyptic scenarios already. How hard could learning new magic be?"

Remus chuckles, but there's a serious edge to his voice. "Trust us, kid. It's the learning curve that always gets you."

And with that, I settle back in my chair, wondering how this weekend with Doctor Fate is going to go. If I've learned one thing in this crazy, mixed-up life of mine, it's that nothing is ever as simple as it sounds. And considering the people involved, this meeting was probably going to make a supernova look like a light show.

—

Deep within the hallowed halls of Mount Justice, in a room that looks less like a lab and more like the inside of a wizard's attic after a wild night out with a few too many experimental potions, Fred and George Weasley were hard at work. Mad scientists might have had a little more organization; the twins? Well, let's just say their "creative chaos" had reached new heights. Bits of tech and magic mingled freely, forming a landscape that would make even the most seasoned inventor scratch their head in confusion—and probably duck for cover.

"Oi, Lee! Pass me that bottle, will ya?" Fred called out, gesturing with the vague confidence of someone who knew exactly where everything was in the mess. Probably.

Lee Jordan, dodging a precarious pile of half-melted cauldrons and sparking gadgets, grabbed a bottle from the shelf labeled in big, ominous letters: Definitely Not Poisonous. He raised an eyebrow as he passed it over. "You're telling me this concoction isn't lethal? Because, mate, it's glowing."

Fred grinned, accepting the bottle with the care of a kid handed a new toy. "Glowing is just a side effect. Shows it's working. Plus, can you imagine handing this to Ron? He'll finally get that 'superhero' look he's been working on."

The three burst into laughter, but George was already moving on, pulling a device from his pocket that looked like a pocket watch crossed with a firecracker and a little too much ambition. He held it up, proudly presenting it like an art piece. "This, gentlemen, is the world's first Sticky Smoke Bomb. Toss it, and it'll stick right where you need it—wall, floor, ceiling, you name it—and explode into a cloud thick enough to give any unlucky fool a serious case of disorientation."

Fred wagged a finger at Lee, clearly proud of their latest invention. "Or let's say you're outnumbered by the kind of bad guys who couldn't care less about personal space. Throw this, and poof! Instant ghost act."

Lee's grin was starting to look almost conspiratorial. "You two are putting together a full-blown hero arsenal, aren't you?"

Fred and George exchanged glances, grinning with the kind of mischief only they could conjure. "More than that, Lee," George replied, pulling out a jar filled with neon green dust that practically vibrated with energy. "This here's Stun-Powder. Just a pinch of it in the face, and even the toughest villain will be wobbling around like they're three butterbeers deep. It's harmless, but enough of it and they'll be seeing stars for hours."

"And it's foolproof," Fred added with a smirk. "Ever see Neville go full blunder in potions class? He could trip over his own wand, toss this in the air by accident, and it'd still be effective. It's idiot-proof."

"And the boots!" George exclaimed, grabbing what appeared to be an old pair of sneakers covered in blinking charms and doodads. "We call them Anti-Gravity Boots. Limited charge, lasts about fifteen minutes, but they'll give you that extra 'oomph' for a quick exit or if you need to get a look from up top."

Fred leaned in, lowering his voice in mock seriousness. "For the 'heroes' who don't know the Leviosa part of Wingardium Leviosa."

"Or," George added, "for Ginny when she needs a bit more 'style' for her next big hex battle."

The trio cackled, practically tasting the chaos these boots would unleash.

Then Fred, with a showman's flourish, held up the pièce de résistance—a rubber chicken. Not just any rubber chicken. This one glowed faintly, and its beady little eyes seemed far too aware of its impending role in mayhem. "Meet Squawker the Distraction Chicken. An excellent addition for anyone needing a quick, feathered diversion. Squeeze it, toss it, and watch every eye in the room fix on the feathered terror."

Lee choked out a laugh. "You're really giving your friends… a rubber chicken?"

"Oh, absolutely," Fred replied, deadly serious. "Nothing says 'urgent distraction' quite like a screaming rubber chicken. The bad guys will never see it coming."

"Just imagine," George added, painting the scene. "Hermione needs a second to recite some intense spell, but all eyes are on her. So—bam! Out comes the chicken. Who could ignore that?"

Lee shook his head, both in amusement and admiration. "You two are seriously going to get everyone banned from polite society."

Fred shrugged, unbothered. "Look, polite society has had it easy for too long. And besides, Harry's already out there in a cape, fighting the good fight. It's only a matter of time before the rest of us get called in."

George nodded. "And when we do, our friends will be ready. With sticky bombs, stun powder, distraction chickens, and anti-gravity boots. Everything you need for your friendly neighborhood wizard-hero team."

Lee scanned the room one more time, noting the half-finished inventions, glowing potions, and scattered plans that looked more like a prankster's dream blueprint than any serious arsenal. But looking at Fred and George, their faces practically glowing with pride and trouble, he knew they weren't kidding. These two might be mad, but in that brilliant, dangerous way that actually had some promise.

"So," he said, rubbing his hands together with a grin, "what's next?"

Fred and George just exchanged a look, practically buzzing with excitement.

"We'll let you know," George said, with a wink. "After all, a hero's work is never done."

—

In a quiet nook of Mount Justice, Susan Bones, Hermione Granger, Daphne Greengrass, Hannah Abbott, and Tracey Davis were huddled together, surrounded by mountains of parchment, rune charts, and magical artifacts that, at any other time, might have triggered some sort of museum alarm. If Fred and George ran the equivalent of a magical DIY lab, this corner was like the nerdiest, most intense study group in history—with just a little extra "Don't mess with us" vibe.

Hermione tapped her quill against a particularly intense-looking rune diagram, eyebrows scrunched up. "Okay, hear me out: if we put these protective sigils right here—" she pointed at what looked suspiciously like a suit of armor blueprint—"then we get a magical early-warning system. It'll activate if anyone even thinks about attacking."

Daphne gave an approving nod, tracing a finger over the symbols like she was mapping out some high-stakes heist. "Not bad, Granger, but unless the shield is linked to the wearer's magical signature, we're going to end up with a very touchy suit of armor. Can you imagine? Achoo!—Boom! Defensive spell on overdrive."

Hannah's eyes widened as she leaned back, almost like she'd been hit with an invisibility cloak to the face. "Great. No pressure, right? Nothing like a suit that might blast us to pieces if we sneeze too hard."

Tracey smirked. "Hey, we didn't sign up for a simple, sit-back-and-knit-scarves kind of life, did we? Harry's out there playing hero, and I don't know about you guys, but I'd rather be prepared for anything—even if it means a magical mishap or two along the way."

Susan leaned forward, tapping her parchment thoughtfully. "What if we add a binding rune?" she suggested. "Not just to make sure the magic sticks to us—but to kick back at anyone who tries to swipe our gear."

Hermione's eyes lit up, like a kid on Christmas morning in the restricted section. "Yes! An anti-theft rune, but super-charged. If anyone so much as touches our stuff, it'll... well, let's just say they'll be experiencing extreme regret."

Daphne raised an eyebrow. "You mean we hex them into next week?"

Susan shrugged, with a nonchalance that was, honestly, a little terrifying. "If they deserve it."

Hannah clapped her hands, her face lighting up as if they were discussing decorating ideas instead of potentially dangerous enchantments. "If we're going all out, then why not add a few enhancements? You know, something for strength, agility—maybe even speed?"

Hermione flipped through her notes, muttering to herself. "We could adapt the Ehwaz rune for speed… or Uruz for strength. Though, knowing us, we might end up with the magical equivalent of a rocket suit." She glanced up, looking half-excited and half-mortified at the thought.

Tracey gave a theatrical sigh. "Who would've thought that a bunch of Hogwarts girls would end up here? Plotting rune-based super-suits in a Justice League base."

Daphne rolled her eyes. "Definitely not Professor McGonagall. I'm pretty sure if she knew, she'd be frantically rewriting the school curriculum right about now."

The five shared a laugh, then dove back into their work with the kind of focus you'd only see in people who'd read way too much about curses, protective spells, and the likelihood of getting ambushed by dark wizards. Hermione and Susan talked through a few rune combinations to boost strength without turning them into magical human pancakes, while Daphne took on the task of making everything look discreet. Because, obviously, a magical battle-suit wouldn't be cool if it clashed with the rest of their wardrobes.

They got so deep into their work that they barely realized what they were building. This was more than just a set of defenses—they were forging a bond, each rune and sigil one step closer to the team they were destined to be.

—

Meanwhile, in one of the Mount Justice training rooms, Raven took a deep breath and cast a quick glance around, letting the weight of… well, everything roll off her shoulders for a moment. After weeks of keeping to herself, wrestling with her demons—literally and figuratively—she'd finally decided it was time to shake off the isolation. And if that meant a little sparring session to get her back in the swing of things, then bring it on.

Across the room, Kara and Kori were getting ready, already looking like two forces of nature just waiting for a reason to let loose. Kara, freshly healed from her last battle with Lobo, stretched her arms, grinning as she cracked her knuckles. "You sure you want to do this, Raven?" she asked, raising an eyebrow. "Because I've been dying to hit something all day."

Raven rolled her eyes under her hood. "Please. You think a Kryptonian and a Tamaranean are going to intimidate me? I grew up with Trigon, remember?" She let a wry smile play at the corner of her mouth.

Kori's eyes lit up, blazing with that signature Tamaranean excitement. "Perfect! I, too, have been in need of… how do you say it… a good outlet." She practically bounced on her heels, fists igniting with radiant energy. Kori's excitement was infectious; her enthusiasm was a solar flare ready to explode, and today, she was ready to burn.

Raven extended her hands, a faint hum of dark magic sparking around her fingers. "All right. But let's keep it controlled—I'd rather not have to fish any of you out of another dimension because things got a little too heated."

Kara snickered, already floating a few inches above the floor as she got into position. "Sure thing, but don't blame me if you can't keep up."

Raven's smile turned into a full-on smirk. "Oh, I can handle it. Question is… can you?"

Kori wasted no time. She lunged forward, her hands blazing with starbolts. Raven braced herself, deflecting Kori's fire with a sweep of her hands, dark magic swirling around her as it absorbed the impact. Kara zipped around the edge of the room, circling like a bird of prey waiting for an opening. There was an ease and fluidity to their movements—a strange synchronicity that only happened when you trusted the people you fought with. For Raven, it was something rare and… oddly comforting. No demons whispering in her head, no Trigon looming over her. Just her, her magic, and her teammates.

Kara darted in next, her fists glowing as she aimed a punch directly at Raven's barrier. The impact echoed through the room, like a mini sonic boom. Raven held her ground, letting the hit ripple harmlessly against her shield before teleporting behind Kara. In one swift motion, she extended her hand, summoning a series of dark tendrils that wrapped around Kara's arms.

Kara just grinned, shrugging off the energy like it was a light breeze. "Gonna have to do better than that."

Raven's eyes narrowed, her smirk widening. "I was hoping you'd say that."

Kara pulled back, breaking free and taking to the air just as Kori came in low, her hands trailing twin streams of fire. Raven reacted instantly, sweeping one arm out to throw up a shadow wall, blocking Kori's approach while her other hand directed a burst of dark energy at Kara. It was a delicate balance, juggling between the two of them—Kara with her powerhouse strength and speed, Kori with her precise, fiery strikes. But Raven was steady, her focus razor-sharp, her movements smooth and precise. This wasn't the stumbling, uncertain magic she'd once feared might control her. This was her power, honed and wielded exactly as she wanted.

They continued, falling into a natural rhythm—Kara diving in with brute force, Kori weaving in and out with graceful, fiery precision, and Raven meeting each attack with calculated defenses, like a choreographed dance. Each movement was a counterpoint to the others, each attack balanced with a defense, and for a few minutes, it was just the three of them, the hum of the training room, and the thrill of battle. It wasn't just sparring. It was a test of trust, of boundaries, of limits pushed and met.

At one point, Kara landed a punch that just skimmed the edge of Raven's shield, enough to throw her back a few feet. Raven steadied herself, wiping a bead of sweat from her brow, and shot Kara a look. "You know, if that had hit, I'd be in another zip code right now."

Kara chuckled, crossing her arms. "You're tougher than you look. Besides, I could always fly you back."

Kori floated over, smiling. "Indeed, Raven. You are… impressive. I could feel the strength in every strike you defended."

Raven let herself smile, genuinely this time. "Yeah… I guess I've still got it."

And for the first time in a long time, she knew it wasn't just talk. No Trigon, no darkness waiting to overtake her—just her, her friends, and the knowledge that she could handle whatever came next.

—

Alright, let me set the scene. I'm standing in the middle of the training room at Mount Justice—no pressure, right? Just me, trying to tap into a freakin' solar flare of power like it's something I can just turn on with the flick of a switch. And honestly? I'm pretty sure I've got no clue what I'm doing.

Remember when I fought Lobo? Yeah, me too. Hard to forget the part where he snapped Kara's arm like a dry twig and I went Supernova. And by Supernova, I mean the part where I really lost my temper, turned into a walking furnace, and nearly vaporized the whole room. That was fun. Almost as much fun as getting hit by a truck. So yeah, I figured maybe I could repeat that little stunt. Easy, right?

Spoiler alert: It's not easy.

I stand there, fists clenched, eyes closed, and think, Okay, Harry, this is it. Just channel your inner solar god, pretend Lobo's being an annoying jerk again, and—BAM—power surge. Easy.

…Nothing.

It's like trying to summon a fire-breathing dragon by thinking really hard. Zero results.

I open my eyes and glance around the room. Kara and Kori are sparring with Raven on the other side, looking like they're ready to save the world and have brunch afterward. No sweat. Meanwhile, here I am, in the middle of a battle with my own body, trying to find a way to light up the sky like a neon sign without setting myself on fire. Again.

"Alright, let's break this down," I mutter. "What triggered it last time? Kara getting her arm snapped? Fury. Anger. Protectiveness. Yeah, that makes sense, right? Maybe I need to—"

I get halfway through my "epic mental battle strategy" when I realize I'm just talking to myself like some kind of crazy person. The power's not coming from some deep speech, I know that much. I close my eyes again, willing myself to focus. Think of Lobo being his smug, irritating self. Think of Kara looking like a broken doll.

That fury—it was like a spark, something big and out of nowhere. I could feel it flicker in the back of my mind, like the feeling you get when you're about to make a really bad decision. And then—bam, I felt it, a surge of heat racing up my arms. For half a second, I knew I could burn a hole in the wall or maybe just burn the whole place down. But then? It fizzled out. Just like that.

"Great. Just great," I say aloud to no one in particular, taking a deep breath. "Let's add 'Supernova Fail' to the list of things I'm bad at. Right under 'not dying' and 'keeping my magic in check.'"

A few steps away, Kara laughs, probably overhearing me. "You sure you're ready for this, Harry?" she calls. "I don't think anyone's ready to go full nuclear just yet."

"Thanks for the encouragement, Supergirl," I reply, glaring at her. "I'm just trying not to melt the room this time."

Kori, who is way too excited for someone who's probably more fire than person, skips over. "Harry! You must embrace the flame within! Think of it like… a very large and dangerous birthday cake that you must light without burning the house down."

"Right. Sure. A birthday cake. That's a metaphor I can get behind." I roll my eyes, but I can't help the grin that cracks through. I'm not going to lie—I really want to figure this out. I need to.

I close my eyes once more, trying to summon up that feeling, like I did before. The heat, the power, the control. I focus hard, imagining the anger, the frustration, the need to protect my girlfriend from the jerk who hurt her.

And—wait for it—here it comes. That flicker of heat again. Only this time, it's stronger. I let out a breath, and for a second, I think, Maybe this is it. Maybe I'm finally about to turn into a walking sunbeam.

Then, without warning, it's gone again.

"Okay, we're not there yet," I say, rubbing my face in frustration. "Maybe tomorrow. Or next year."

Kara grins at me, hovering a few feet off the ground like it's no big deal. "You're close, Harry. I can feel it."

Kori nods sagely, which is hard to take seriously when you're wearing what amounts to an outfit made of glitter and also have the personality of a fireworks show. "Soon, you will be a great sun god, Harry. But for now…" She looks me up and down with a mock serious expression. "Try not to blow up anything important."

"Thanks, guys. Real supportive."

And with that, I resolve to try again tomorrow. Maybe with less "birthday cake" and more "don't burn the building down" next time.

—

Ginny Weasley wasn't exactly nervous about flying on the Firebolt. She had seriously been practicing this for years, sneaking into the broom cupboard at the Burrow since she was six, borrowing any broom her older brothers had left carelessly unattended, and taking off into the skies like she owned the place. Sure, they always caught her, but that just made it more fun.

Now, perched on the Firebolt, she was in her element. The broom hummed under her like a trusty steed, and she soared into the air without so much as a second thought. The wind tugged at her hair, the sea breeze mixing with the salt of the ocean below. This was her happy place.

She'd been wanting this moment for weeks, ever since arriving in this new world of superheroes, where everyone seemed to have some cool power or insane ability. Ginny was determined to keep up. She didn't just want to watch from the sidelines; she wanted in. So, she figured she'd start with something familiar—flying—and then maybe, just maybe, figure out how to do the whole "saving the world" thing.

As she banked a hard left, skimming over the water, she saw Harry standing on the shore, arms crossed, watching her like she was some kind of circus performer. He's probably wondering if I'm going to crash into the ocean any minute, she thought, grinning.

She called back, "You know, I could probably teach you a few tricks. But, uh, no promises on not accidentally flying into a tree."

Harry waved his hand in a "no thanks" gesture. "Yeah, I think I'll pass on the tree thing. You've got this. Just don't start a fire or something. I'm still recovering from that whole 'Supernova Harry' incident."

Ginny rolled her eyes. "Pfft. Fire? You're thinking of you, not me." She made a loop in the air, throwing in a couple of quick, sharp twists just to show off a little. "If I catch fire, you'll be the first to know. Trust me."

But Ginny knew she didn't need to worry about that. Her flying wasn't just decent—it was awesome. She'd been practicing in secret for years. If her brothers had known, they would've probably freaked out and tried to stop her. But now, as she zoomed through the air, she felt like she could do anything.

She swerved toward the water, narrowly missing a seagull that squawked indignantly as it flapped away. "I swear, it's like every bird on this planet has a vendetta against me," she muttered, banking back up into the sky.

Harry's voice drifted up to her from the beach. "You've got some serious moves up there. Are you sure you're not secretly a superhero already?"

Ginny grinned. "Well, if saving the world involves flying a broomstick at breakneck speed and almost plowing into the ocean, then yes, I'm already halfway there."

She pulled a smooth, controlled loop-the-loop, feeling the adrenaline surge through her veins. This was the life she was meant to lead. No more hiding behind the Burrow's walls. No more being the youngest, the "girl," the one always stuck on the sidelines. She was Ginny Weasley, and in this new world, she was going to make sure she carved out her own place.

Finally, she landed softly on the sand, kicking up a small cloud of dust. Harry was looking at her with that half-impressed, half-mocking expression he got whenever she did something cool but refused to admit it.

"Well?" she asked, hands on her hips. "Was that a solid landing or what?"

Harry shrugged but couldn't suppress the grin. "It was decent. I guess I'll have to make sure no one else tries to join the 'Flying Weasley' club, huh?"

Ginny stuck out her tongue. "You'll be lucky if I let you join. You might just slow me down."

Harry raised an eyebrow. "Oh, I'm sure I'd slow you down just fine with my perfect no broom flying skills. You know, just saying."

Ginny gave him a playful shove. "Right. Keep dreaming, hero. We'll see who's faster when I start throwing punches."

Harry raised his hands in mock surrender. "Okay, okay. I'm out. You're the better flier. Just try not to break anything, okay?"

Ginny gave him a cheeky wink, then spun the Firebolt in her hand. "Don't worry. I'll be too busy saving the world to break anything. You should be so lucky."

With that, she kicked off again, zooming back toward the horizon, feeling the wind rush through her hair and the fire of ambition burning in her chest. Today, she wasn't just Ginny Weasley from the Burrow—she was a superhero in the making. And she was ready to take on the world.

---

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I hope you're enjoying the fanfiction so far! I'd love to hear your thoughts on it. Whether you loved it, hated it, or have some constructive criticism, your feedback is super important to me. Feel free to drop a comment or send me a message with your thoughts. Can't wait to hear from you!

If you're passionate about fanfiction and love discussing stories, characters, and plot twists, then you're in the right place! I've created a Discord server dedicated to diving deep into the world of fanfiction, especially my own stories. Whether you're a reader, a writer, or just someone who enjoys a good tale, I welcome you to join us for lively discussions, feedback sessions, and maybe even some sneak peeks into upcoming chapters, along with artwork related to the stories. Let's nerd out together over our favorite fandoms and explore the endless possibilities of storytelling!

Click the link below to join the conversation:

https://discord.com/invite/HHHwRsB6wd

Can't wait to see you there!

If you appreciate my work and want to support me, consider buying me a cup of coffee. Your support helps me keep writing and bringing more stories to you. You can do so via PayPal here:

https://www.paypal.me/VikrantUtekar007

Or through my Buy Me a Coffee page:

https://www.buymeacoffee.com/vikired001s

Thank you for your support!