The Boy Who Lived and the Last Lantern

Disclaimer: I don't own Harry Potter or DC Comics.

Chapter 1: Best Laid Plans

December 25, 1984 Just after Dinner
Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, Scotland, Great Britain

Humming a nameless ditty to himself a very full and sleepy Albus Dumbledore walked the halls of Hogwarts after sharing Christmas dinner with the few staff members and students to stay at the castle during the holidays. Smiling, he made a mental note to thank the house elves for the wonderful meal. Arriving at his office he walked over to pet Fawkes, his phoenix familiar. "Oh Fawkes, I hope your burning day comes soon," Dumbledore worried. Graying feathers collected at the bottom of his perch. This, along with the progressive slump of his posture, was a sign of his impending death.

As the Headmaster started settle down for the night a loud keening noise shattered the silence of his office. Eyes wide, he looked towards his silver instruments, heart wrenching so very much like that day in Godric's Hollow over a century and a half ago. The table of sensors was rattling violently and Albus saw the cause. The instrument he had charmed that Halloween night, the small trinket that measured the status of the blood wards and the health of the orphan named Harry James Potter was on the verge of combusting. Breaking through his shock he ran to the floo and screamed, "Minerva!"

A few seconds later a stern looking woman stepped out of the floo, wary of the now panicked looking Headmaster. "Albus, what is wrong? What is that noise?" she asked. Minerva wondered what could possibly rattle him.

"I will explain when we arrive, for time is of the essence," Albus replied. "We must depart." He reached into his robes for his permanent portkey, holding out the pair of spectacles that had once belonged to Percival Dumbledore. They disappeared in whirl of sound and magic.

December 25, 1984 Just after Dinner
Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

They appeared in front of the rather unremarkable #4 Privet Drive, gripping their light cloaks tighter to their bodies in an attempt to escape the cold. Recognizing the house, only one thought crossed Minerva's mind, 'Harry?' Oh Merlin, please let him be alright.' Their sudden need to be here coupled with the unfamiliar look on her friend's face only served to compound her worry. As they reached the house the wizard didn't break stride as he vanished the door, revealing a dark hallway.

Minerva rounded on Albus and asked in an angry voice. "Where are they?" Looking around she saw all the lights off and felt the telling chill of the turned-off heating system. There was no Yuletide trimming, no tree, no presents and no people in this home. Whatever had occurred the family was obviously not present for it. 'Thank Merlin.'

"Albus, I think they left for the holidays, you must have been mistaken."

Looking around the wizard said, "No, the monitors are never wrong; they are tied into his blood, to his very magic. Search this floor; I will attend to the upstairs. Leave nothing unturned Minerva, I fear Harry is in mortal peril."

Minerva gasped and watched him take the stairs at an incredible speed for someone of his advanced age, even for a wizard. Her mind started running through all of the most terrible scenarios. All of which starred little Harry shivering and alone in the dark. Shouting, "Harry! Harry!" she raced through the various doors, searching in fear, hoping to spot her raven-haired godson.

Upstairs, Albus started flicking proximity charms at every room. The charm was designed to find life in the immediate area. He felt no response, nothing to indicate that they were not alone in the house. There was also an offsetting feeling to the bedrooms. He identified the master bedroom as the room for Vernon and Petunia Dursley and the next biggest bedroom as belonging to their son. He could tell by the pictures that were placed around the rooms. He passed the open door to what looked like a guest room and walked into the last bedroom, which was used for storage. Piles of broken toys and discarded books lay within. No sign of Harry's room.

Minerva, having finished searching downstairs without finding Harry, felt torn between relief and anxiety. She was sure that they had vacationed for the holidays but she couldn't shake the doubts at the back of her mind. With her task complete and her worry somewhat suppressed, she started to examine the pictures on the mantle of the living room. Some were of the Dursleys as a family but most featured just their rotund offspring. 'My word, he is absolutely garish. Do they ever stop feeding the boy? He is rounder than he is tall! Where are the pictures of Harry?' she thought.

"He is not up there and I don't think he has a room in this house." The Headmaster's voice pulled her from her thoughts. He was now at the bottom of the stairs. Minerva could feel the worry in his words.

Her brow furrowed. "What do you mean he doesn't have a room in this house. I thought you explained to them the need for caution in his case. They should know he couldn't be allowed to live anywhere else, Albus. He is not down here either and we have searched every room in this house."

Dumbledore let loose a relieved breath, praying silently that his instruments had malfunctioned. 'Maybe the family went somewhere warm for the holiday on a vacation,' he thought somewhat optimistically. "I fear this a false alarm Minerva. I am sorry to have worried you. I think that Harry is somewhere-" He stopped suddenly, a faint pulse of power interrupting his thoughts.

Narrowing his eyes he turned toward the door under the stairs. The Transfiguration Mistress watched him, confused. "Albus, that door does not lead to a room, it is just a cupboard. Muggles use them to store cleaning supplies, you really need to leave the castle more," said Minerva exasperatedly. Ignoring her he spotted a piece of paper sticking out slightly from under the door. Picking it up he spied a letter scrawled in green crayon, the handwriting shaky. It read:

Deer Santa, plis bring me fud an a blanket. I am very col an very hungy. I will be a gud boy. Thak you Santa.

hary poter.

Albus stared at the paper, dazed. Minerva wiped tears from her eyes. "Oh where is he!" Minerva cried in frustration, and with nothing left to do she opened the door to the cupboard under the stairs hoping to discover more letters hidden inside. She found more and far worse than she ever dreamed.

'No! Not my Harry! Not my Harry,' she screamed in her mind. She fell to the floor, her mouth open and a sound of horror forming in her throat. Albus looked inside; and never in his almost two centuries of living, of fighting through wars, had he ever seen a more sickening sight. Dumbledore stared at Harry's body, bile rising in his throat. He did this. The image of the little frozen body would haunt him forever.

The tiny four-year-old body of Harry James Potter was curled into itself over a thin dirty mattress, his lips blue and his green eyes open and already starting to glaze over. Painfully thin, he wore only a large threadbare shirt and a pair of cavernous dirt brown pants. Several more letters written on brown paper littered the floor. They were his last thoughts captured before death. His desperate pleas for food and warmth would be imprinted on them forever. Minerva sobbed harshly, Harry Potter was dead. She would never again hear his voice, his laugh…watch his eyes light up. She had failed James and Lily in her vow to make sure their son was safe.

And it was this sight that brought Albus Dumbledore to his knees. Sitting on his heels, arms slack at his sides and eyes locked on the frozen body, he was the picture of despair. This had been his ward. He felt the crushing guilt that had come from playing a major part in the atrocity that had been Harry Potter's life. Years later, it would be this moment that he would look back on and say that, "the greater good," came at too high a price. Staring at the horrid consequences of his actions, Albus vowed to protect the lives of others as if they were his own. And then he wept. He wept for the young life he had lost. He wept for the poor boy he had failed.

Struggling through the grief, Minerva needed to take action. Her Harry was gone. Their decision to leave him in a family that had not known and had not wanted him burned in her memory. His once ever-twinkling eyes, permanently extinguished, stared blankly at what was left of Harry. Touching her lips to the cold forehead of her late godson, she gathered her resolve. Hearing Albus' broken whispers of, 'Harry,' she hurried to Arabella's house to use the floo and summon the aurors.

It would take thirty minutes to explain what had happened through the sobs.

December 26, 1984 Just Past Midnight
Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

The front lawn of #4 Privet Drive was filled past capacity with aurors and politicians who had heard what had befallen the Boy Who Lived. Red-eyed aurors stood grim faced, corralling reporters in their attempt to gather facts. For the first time, magical people around the world were of one mind.

They thought of only a name.

Dursley.

The holiday cheer of 1984 was nonexistent, as wizards and witches everywhere, from England to as far as the United States and Japan, paid tribute to little Harry Potter. And unlike that Halloween night long ago, where the toasts were repeated with celebration, these were done with heavy hearts and choked tears. Everywhere glasses were raised in honor of Harry Potter.

"Al chico que vivió!"

"Au garçon qui a vécu!"

"Al ragazzo che ha vissuto!"

"生きた少年に"

"به اين پسر كه زندگي"

"To Little Harry Potter. To the Boy Who Lived!"

His letters written on half sheet brown pad paper from school were hung inside his cupboard, his childish writing enough to make the hardest man cry. A plaque was placed beside the door, and a preservation charm was cast inside the cupboard to preserve the surroundings of the boy who lived, so people might know how cruel life could be. The plaque read:

#4 Privet Drive

Here on December the 25th 1984, four-year-old Harry James Potter died. He left this world alone, suffering through the cold of winter and weak from the lack of food. Forgotten, he suffered in this cupboard-under-the-stairs, where he resided after defeating He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named when he was just fifteen months old. He spent his last hours pleading for help. The wizarding world mourns the death of its lost hero, and vows that this tragedy will never happen again.

The British Ministry of Magic decreed #4 Privet Drive a national memorial in honor of the Boy Who Lived. Minister Bagnold ordered the property warded and placed under official protection from all beings, magical and muggle.

And then there was only one thing left to do.

December 31, 1984 Lunch Time
Beach, Grand Cayman, Cayman Islands

On a warm tropical island Vernon Dursley grumbled through the sand with his wife Petunia, both watching their son Dudley knock over sandcastles and run over blankets set down by other beach goers. Ignoring the complaints of people his son had offended, he thought, 'little tyke, going to be just like his father. Go ahead Dud, show'em whose boss'.

"Dudley is headed towards the water Vernon, get him he doesn't know how to swim!" Petunia worried for her little Duddikins.

"C'mon Dud, not in the water!" Vernon yelled. Watching his son dash up the beach, he appreciated the fine young man he knew the fruit of his loins would turn out to be. Seeing a chance to catch his breath, he stood there thinking about going home and being around hard working folk who didn't have time for beach vacations, like himself. 'Goddamn Petunia, we could have just driven to the coast and saved the trouble'. Those were his last thoughts before he felt a sharp pain in his chest.

Petunia Dursley watched confused as her husband fell face first into the sand, hoping it was just a terrible joke.

The Caribbean Ministry of Magic's Voodoo Department was glad to do its part for the late, "Boy Who Lived".

December 25, 1984 Time Unknown
Sector 2814, Orbiting only moon of Planet Earth

'Acceptance. Yes, that is the word. And what a good word it is, much better than resignation.' This is what the last surviving guardian thought as it felt its life fade. They had lost and now the Universe would suffer for their failure. They would feel the misery of lawlessness and chaos. Its thoughts turned somber as it remembered the deaths of its brothers and the Green Lanterns that carried their banner. Repeating the oath he had pledged his life to was the only thing that gave him the strength to continue on.

'In brightest day, in blackest night...'

December 25, 1984 Just Before Dinner Time
Cupboard under Stairs, #4 Privet Drive, Little Whinging, Surrey

Harry shivered, trying to get as much of his body as possible into the large shirt he wore. Earlier that week Harry had learned to write in the day school that his relatives had enrolled him and Dudley in. And the teacher made every child bring a whole pad of paper home to practice with. He was so excited that he forgot that the Dursleys were leaving on vacation and didn't remember to get some food into his cupboard before they left. As usual they locked him in, 3 nights ago, without bothering to leave him as much as a cup of water or piece of bread.

And now, this is where he was. Cold and alone. Using the pad of paper and a lone green crayon, he wrote to Santa. He heard from his classmates that Santa gave you what you asked for if you were good. After finishing his letter, he struggled to fall asleep, shivering and hungry. He woke up eagerly looking around to see if Santa Claus had come during the night, imagining a piece of freshly baked bread or a nice cup of water. Finding nothing, he would write another note and force himself to sleep despite the cold and aches in his stomach. Little Harry Potter kept this up for 3 days, repeating the cycle of writing and forcing himself to sleep, hoping the latest letter would be answered.

Sometimes his letter varied; wishing for a blanket as the temperatures plummeted or a cup of fresh hot water to warm himself. Others asked for someone to spend Christmas with, someone that would like having him around. Not once did it look like his letters were ever disturbed but he would try again and again, sometimes pleading desperately with whoever was listening. To pass the time he arranged his letters neatly on his small cupboard floor so that Santa could read through them easily when he finally arrived. He never gave up hope and continued writing even as his green crayon whittled down or the once thick pad of brown paper gave way to its last pages. Fortunately for him, there was someone that did take notice.

Once known as Ganthet, the last Guardian now floated just outside the Earth's atmosphere. And even on the verge of death, he could feel Harry's pain.

He sensed that the child possessed the most unique ability in the universe. Harry Potter could do what no other child, magical or muggle could. He had the ability to absorb the raw power that had once fueled every Green Lantern ring, into his tiny body. Realizing the young boy's potential and sensing his own imminent departure from this life, he used his wisdom to pool all of the near infinite cosmic power into a green glowing sphere and willed it to merge with the young boy. An amazing feat, the likes of which the villains Sinestro and Parallax could only dream of doing.

'Destiny,' he mused to itself. There was no other explanation for it. What force in the universe could allow for such an occurrence in the Oan's darkest hour? 'An heir to us all brothers! May you use it well little one and may it protect you. All that we once were now resides in you Harry Potter, make us proud.'

Ganthet felt joy that regardless of what happened to his body, willpower would live on in the universe; a beacon of light would remain, keeping the power and ideals of the now extinct Green Lantern Corps alive.

The Guardian, surrounded by a green energy field reached Harry Potter. Ganthet knew after giving him the collective power he still needed someone to care for and guide the boy, so with a burst of energy he sent a message to closest living being he could trust; John Stewart, a former Green Lantern. The guardian dropped in front of Harry Potter, relinquishing its power to what had become the future of hope and law.

Harry Potter arched his back, mouth open in a silent scream as the power entered his chest. His scar disappeared and his body mended itself inside the glowing green sphere. He fell into what appeared to be a coma, more exhausted than before. Exercising his own willpower, he sent the boy out of the house, soaring upwards into the sky wrapped in a protective green bubble.

As Ganthet lay dying, he used what remained of his life force to prepare for his last sleep. His final thoughts were on protecting the child that now carried with it the power to carry on the fight against evil. He knew Harry Potter would be hunted if he disappeared without a trace, so with the last bit of his reserves, his face and body slowly morphed until he was an exact replica of the child.

His purpose fulfilled, he fell to the mattress, dead.

December 25, 1985 After Dinner
Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth

On a holiday like Christmas, only the founders were on duty. With the rest of the members on call, it was a quiet Christmas night on the Watchtower. That was until alien energy was detected.

Alarms blared.

Followed by the Flash and Wonder Woman, John Stewart rushed to the dock bay and initialized the airlock in time to see the green sphere enter the Watchtower. Through the glare of green Lantern energy he could see the outline of a child-sized body. As the airlock was sealed, the green sphere vanished and the child fell, hitting the floor with a loud, resounding thud. Jarred by the crash, the small, dark-haired boy loosened his grip and let loose a small sheet of paper and a green crayon. Wonder Woman knelt and checked his vitals. "By Hera! John, he is not waking up!" she gasped.

"Let me carry him," Flash said. Tucking the child in his arms he streaked his way towards the medical bay.

Having already summoned the other founding members of the League, Diana picked up the note and, with John, set off after the Flash. The medical staff instantly went to work, trying to determine what was wrong with the otherwise healthy looking boy. The seven members of the founding council gathered in the observation theatre and watched the doctors work. Smoothing out the paper, Diana felt Batman at her side reading over her shoulder. Batman frowned and without a backward glance stalked towards the command center.

"What's got his cape in a twist?" Wally asked, as he and John appeared beside Diana.

"This," Diana said, holding the small paper. She, Wally, and John read what had infuriated Batman. The letter was written in green crayon, barely legible through the shakiness of the writer. It read:

Deer Santa, I am riting for tree days now in my cupburd, and you donot answer. I no I am a bad freak and you have to visit the good boys firs, but plis can you give me some bread? I am very hungy now and aunt petunia locked my cupburd I cant not cook in the kiten. I am very hungy and col, plis send me a blanket, it dont hav to be like dudleys red one. I am getting really slepy and tired now, and my nails keep turnig blue. I will wait for you. My stomach hurts alot now. maybe hot water too? to help warm me... hungy col... mery kristmas Santa

hary poter

Tears dropped onto the letter from Diana's face and she wrapped her arms around herself as she sobbed. She could not believe one so young and innocent could be treated so poorly in 'Man's world'. The letter was passed among the council, extinguishing the festive holiday mood.

December 25, 1984 9 PM
Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth

The Founders' Council found themselves in the conference room to discuss the story and situation of the mysterious Harry Potter. Superman paced behind his seat, he couldn't trust himself to stay still. After reading the letter to Santa Claus he had crushed a metal rail in his grip.

John Stewart started the meeting. "A few hours before the boy arrived I received a mental pulse only used by the Guardians of Oa, who we had all thought extinct. All that was mentioned was that someone needed immediate help. Even I was surprised when the boy passed through space enveloped with Lantern energy. And even though the bubble is gone I can still feel the Lantern energy around him. Not unusual when something is exposed to the Lantern energy. No other transmissions or messages have been sent."

"Yes, the energy that the child puts off is a mystery we have yet to resolve," J'onn J'onzz said. "But who is he and where will he go?"

None of them knew how to access the appropriate channels to look for the identity of the boy, or even what the appropriate channels were.

No one except for Batman.

"The boy's name is Harry James Potter. Son of the late Earl James Charlus Potter of Kent and Lily Potter nee Evans of England," Batman said, his voice flat. "Orphaned at fifteen months, all records indicate that he was sent to live with his maternal aunt and her family. Vernon and Petunia Dursley nee Evans who reside in Surrey, England."

"His family did this to him!" Diana surged up from her seat.

"Diana, enough!" Superman said, taking control of the meeting. Hands clasped behind him, he thought of a way to proceed. "First things first, he needs to get better before we can do anything. We will keep him here while we try to work out some sort of living situation for him."

"I will adopt him," Batman said from the corner. "The obvious living situation at his home rules out any return. And there is no information on any other family to claim him. He will be well taken care of and out of all of us here, my alternative identity is the only one capable of handling the attention of the sudden appearance of a mysterious orphaned boy."

While Batman protected his alter-ego fanatically for fear of retaliation, he had shared that secret with the Founders' Council long ago. And the fact that Bruce Wayne wanted to adopt a fellow orphan was not lost on them.

"Earl, huh? Guess that makes him royalty." The Flash wondered out loud.

"Nobility. He would have to be at least a duke to be considered royalty," Batman answered without taking his eyes of the image conjured up on the infirmary camera.

Diana's heart warmed at the thought that the stoic and aloof Batman would help a defenseless child and catching his attention she sent Bruce a beaming gaze, causing him to look away. Looking around and seeing nods of agreement from the others Superman said, "Agreed."

Meanwhile in the medical bay, seven-year-old Kara Zor-El snuck quickly into Harry's room. Tall for her age, she wore jeans and a t-shirt Wally had given her on her first day on Earth, some band that she didn't know on its front. Her golden blonde hair was pulled back in a braid Diana helped her with so she could play. She slowly made her way to Harry, careful not to make any noise. New to this planet, she was often the center of attention and didn't take kindly to someone stealing the spotlight. And that was exactly what this newcomer had done upon arriving earlier that day. Pulling herself onto the bed she stared down at the sleeping boy.

He was so small. And her cousin Kal-El told her that the humans were not as strong as her. Fragile he said. So she had to be careful when playing with the others, especially children like herself.

"Wake up. C'mon, wake up!" Kara was getting bored, and fast. Making sure to be gentle she started poking the sleeping boy's face and pulling back his eyelids, hoping for some reaction that would keep her entertained. But nothing happened. His breathing stayed even and relaxed.

After losing interest, she started to climb off the bed, not noticing Harry blinking his eyes open. A quick whispered, "Hi," was all it took to send Kara tumbling. A yelped, "Eeep," escaped her lips as she fell off the bed in a rather graceless fashion. Pulling herself up, she glared at the boy who had already fallen back asleep.

December 29, 1984 11:15 AM
Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth

Harry woke up, feeling rested and warm for the first time that he could remember. He didn't want to get out of bed. Santa must have read his letters and had come for him. Opening his eyes, everything seemed blurry, 'Hmm, I wonder where my glasses are.' Reaching up to his face he felt them on his nose. Carefully taking them off he was shocked. He could see well without his glasses. Grinning widely he tossed them on the bed. No one was around to notice his eyes pulse a with very faint green light when he smiled.

He jumped off the bed and looked around the weird white room, careful not to touch the beeping equipment. He saw buttons on the wall and wondered if it was a lift, pressing the first one he jumped back when a wall slid to the side, revealing a long corridor. He looked around curiously then padded silently into the hallway, barefoot and wearing only the white pajamas he assumed that Santa must have given him. He smiled, his clothes actually fit for once.

"I'm in Santa's house!" Little Harry yelled with glee until a green man phased through the wall. "HOLLLEEE," Harry yelped out before he fell flat on his bum.

"I knew you were awake," the bald green man said with a smile.

Harry just sat there wide eyed, unmoving. He wasn't sure if he was having a dream or a nightmare.

J'onn just watched him, quietly waiting so as not to scare him off.

"You're a…" Harry stuttered out, confused. Then he got it. He remembered a show on the television about aliens. "A Martian! You're a Martian right?"

"Yes," J'onn J'onzz said, amused.

"Oh, wow," Harry replied. Then he said. "Hi, I'm Harry Potter sir." Holding out a hand for the large green man to shake like he had seen his Uncle Vernon do.

"Hello Harry, you can call me J'onn, like the rest of my friends." This caused Harry to beam at him; he had never had any friends.

"Now I'm sure you're hungry, let's go back to the medical wing so the doctors can feed you. Then maybe I will introduce you to Kara," J'onn replied.

Harry scrunched up his nose, thinking seriously, before he glanced up at the Green Martian and said in a solemn small voice, "Thank you." J'onn nodded, and he was surprised when the small boy grabbed his hand as they walked. They started their walk back to the medical bay.

A panicked looking Amazonian princess ran from one of the rooms, and seeing Harry breathed a sigh of relief. "Harry! Never do that again! You made us worry!" Diana said. Not realizing that her voice was a bit loud, she instantly regretted it when she saw how Harry reacted. He froze, face paling as he thought he was in trouble.

"I'm sorry miss. I didn't know I was supposed to stay in there. I'll go back now." He slowly stepped out from behind J'onn's legs.

"Sorry Mister J'onn, I can't eat anything right now. I have to go back to my room," Harry said, talking to his feet.

J'onn felt the fear and sorrow flow from the boy. It seemed that Harry was certain he wasn't going to eat today. The years of torment and discipline had conditioned him to expect this sort of treatment from adults.

Teary-eyed, Harry quickly ran into his room, careful to avoid any swings from behind.

"You must be careful how you treat the little one Diana. He has lived a life full of pain. He thinks it will come from everyone because of his family," J'onn gently reminded her.

Diana just watched the door that Harry had rushed through. Even without J'onn's telepathic powers, she could make out the fear of being struck as he walked away. And she knew she had caused that fear to awaken in him.

December 29, 1984 12:30 PM
Justice League Watchtower, Orbiting the Planet Earth

Harry Potter could not believe it. In all of his life, he could never remember it happening to him. He had seen it happening to other children, usually when they were sick or hurt, and wishing it were him. But it had never happened and now that it was he didn't want it to stop.

For the first time that he could remember, Harry was being carried.

After Diana had come into his room and explained that she wasn't mad, just worried that when she came looking for him he was gone. She told him that this place was big and she did not want him to get lost or for anything to happen to him.

And this was where he found himself. He leaned back from the very tall woman. She had long flowing black hair, pulled back to leave her face bare. Harry thought she was the prettiest woman he had ever seen. So taken in by her kindness towards him and shocked that he was on her hip, he didn't pay attention to where she was taking him.

He was still lost in a daze when they entered the dining hall. There was only tables, chairs and a long counter separating three employed cooks from the high-powered heroes they served. It was at this time that Harry was introduced to the Justice League's Founding Council.

Feeling her stop Harry cast a look around, unblinking and mouth agape, he stared. Even a four-year-old living in England who was not allowed to watch TV recognized these people. He instinctively burrowed his head in Diana's neck.

Seeing that the boy was not going introduce himself, Diana spoke first.

"Everyone, this is Harry. He is being a little shy right now so don't overwhelm him. Let's all introduce ourselves, ok?

"Harry, like I already told you, my name is Diana. But some people on Earth call me Wonder Woman." This caused Harry to whip his head around from where he was staring at Superman. 'Wonder Woman!' He was in the arms of Wonder Woman. He had no idea.

"Over there is J'onn but you already met him. You know that he is from Mars right?" She watched him nod and turn to J'onn to wave.

"Ok, that is John Stewart. He used to be known as the Green Lantern. Now he is the analyst for all of our missions."

"Hello, Mr. Stewart. Nice to meet you." John smiled back at him.

The Flash walked up to Harry before he could be introduced and bowed deeply. "Your Majesty, the Flash at your service," he drawled in a terrible imitation of a British accent.

Then Superman walked up and smacked him in the back of the head, causing Harry to giggle. Diana let him down to stand in front of everyone.

"This is Superman." And Harry could not stop staring. Superman was everything Harry wished he could be, strong, brave, loved by all. To be honest Harry would have just settled for the last.

"And the last…is…" She tried to see if the last member was somewhere behind the others but he couldn't be found.

"Here." Harry turned from smiling at everyone to see the scariest sight he had ever seen.

A demon was standing behind Wonder Woman. Cloaked in black, its eyes were white slits. He stood there frozen, eyes wide. Diana took pity on him, knowing that seeing the Batman the first time could scare anyone.

"This is Batman Harry." The only response from the boy was to take a step back. He had heard of the Batman. He hadn't seen pictures of him like he had of the rest of the Justice League but stories were even passed around by preschoolers. How Batman would swoop down from out of the shadows and snatch the bad people. Needless to say he was scared.

Seeing the reaction, Batman knelt down and looked back at him. Eye to eye, Batman extended his hand causing Harry's eyes to pop to a dangerous point.

Harry, in keeping with his reaction to seeing the Dark Knight for the first time, pitched backwards and fainted. Wonder Woman barely caught him as she rolled her eyes at Batman's need for the cloak and shadow routine.

"Nice job Bats," Flash snickered. "He is the first person you've killed just by being you." Then he winced when he felt a Kryptonian hand smack his head again.

Superman called everyone to order. "Ok, let's all get back to our responsibilities. Bruce has a great deal to explain to Harry and we should give them the space to do it." Nods were the only reaction, and they all filed out. All except Diana.

Batman looked at her expectantly. Her reaction was to raise an eyebrow and say, "You couldn't talk to him for two minutes without him fainting from fear. What exactly makes you think that I would leave you alone for this?" That caused him to pause.

Seeing she had made her point Diana gently shook the boy awake. Watching the most remarkable green eyes she had seen come into focus, she was glad she had stayed. The boy immediately tensed at sight of Batman.

"Bruce, if this is going to work then you have to show him you are not a monster." She looked at him like a teacher would look at a student who was too stubborn to admit he was wrong.

With a sigh, Batman pulled back his cowl revealing his face to the boy.

When Harry realized that he was just a man in a mask it wasn't so scary. Though Harry didn't realize it, there was a passing resemblance between them.

"Harry, my name is Bruce Wayne." Seeing no reaction he thought, 'guess I'm not as famous as I thought'. He continued, "I live in Gotham City, in America. You know where that is right?" A confused nod was all he was given in reply. Harry did not know why he was being told this.

"Well I wanted to know whether you wanted to come to my home and stay for a while." This made the small boy's brow furrow.

"Why?" Harry whispered.

"I know how your relatives treated you Harry." The boy tensed again and gripped tightly onto Wonder Woman's hand. "If you let me I will make sure you are taken care of like you deserve."

"Really?" He looked to Diana to confirm the truthfulness of the offer. Seeing her nod he worried. "Will I get to see Miss Diana again?"

Wonder Woman laughed, "Of course Harry I will come over every chance I get. Won't I Bruce?" she asked with a teasing smile.

Narrowing his eyes at her Bruce said, "Yes Harry, Diana and the rest of the league will be able to visit you. And they come over quite a lot. So if you want," Bruce said rising to his feet, he replaced his cowl and offered his hand, "we can go now and I can introduce you to the man that raised me." Harry took his hand with complete trust that only a small child could give.

"Where are we going Mr. Bruce?"

"Home Harry. I'm going to take you home."

Beta'd by AntHil