Three Months Earlier

To celebrate the summer solstice, actually, for no real reason at all, the richest man in Gotham decided to throw a party in his swanky penthouse. Security was tightened, overseen by management and Bruce Wayne himself, after that frightening encounter with the Joker last year. The party was a rousing success, as the patrons were either too self absorbed to notice or were too apathetic to care about the release on appeal of a mass flood of career criminals. Sal Maroni was dead as the result of an insane Harvey Dent(no mention was made of his insistence on being called "Two-Face"), as well as several others which included police officers. Bruce Wayne looked to be in good spirits, he was seen talking with Coleman Reese, the man whose life was ransomed by the Joker on live TV, who laimed he knew the identity of the Batman, and may be the witness of a federal inquiry concerning which.

Bruce had had this party actually to test its resistance to further intrusion. When the last freeloader left, Bruce and his butler, almost surrogate father, Alfred Pennyworth, swept the penthouse for any signs of surveillance. Nothing was found, not even with the DARPA quality sensors all around the premises.

"What should I do with this bottle of Taittinger Brut, sir?"

"I suppose I could give it to Lucius."

"Yes sir. So you will be attending a meeting with him and Mister Mittal?"

"I wouldn't be so gracious to Lakshmi, but yes, I guess I'll have to attend. Then I'll be at another summer movie premiere."

"Master Wayne, I can see you are still upset over Ms. Ramirez."

"No, I'm bothered by the…consequences, but of course I can't blame her."

"Yes, there is too much efficiency in this day and age for Mister Dents image not to go unabated for long."

Bruce shook his head. He was deep in thought; he always was despite him hiding it well.

Bruce gave his goodbyes to Alfred, and then he went inside the helicopter waiting outside which traveled to the airport.

Bruce flew the jet himself and landed in Heathrow in good time. He hopped into his classic Hispano Suiza, and headed to another vapid party(the meeting was rescheduled for the next day). It was quite enjoyable to be among some people whom he considered his friends, but as with anyone who has the weight of the world on their shoulders, he still felt a sense of isolation, a feeling which he couldn't shake since his parents were murdered right in front of him. Witty conversation here, excessive intake of substances there (Bruce tried his best to mitigate these undesirable variables in his life whenever possible). Many people sense an air of mystery around Bruce Wayne, but that too is mitigated when they actually get to know the man. He is generous, compassionate, friendly, but without a hint of pretentiousness either, which is good.

Bruce almost choked when he met Christopher Nolan, who he heard wanted to direct a movie based on the Batman. He asked Chris, "Where do you get your source material from?"

"Oh, mostly from the newspaper articles I read and the expose they did on the Joker, I try not to read the fanboy blogs. I hope Scorsese doesn't get it, the source material is right up his alley. He grew up in Gotham too you know."

Bruce laughed, "I'm surprised that Batman isn't a comic book superhero. His costume is menacing enough."

"Actually, it is funny because there was supposed to be a character just like that by some bloke, oh what was his name, Bob Kane. You know, the guy who invented The Immortal? He and Bill Finger had a superhero almost EXACTLY like Batman, but then he was sued for being too much in likeness to The Shadow."

Bruce gulped. "Yeah, I heard of him. His origin was a millionaire who took the law into his own hands.

"Yup". Chris looked at him quizzically. "Hey, you'd fit the bill, you even look a little like Christian Bale."

"So I'm told." He said the resemblance was uncanny. I could see him being Batman."

Suddenly Chris was pushed to be interviewed by some people, maybe "The Times", maybe TMZ for all Bruce knew. "See ya later Bruce!"

Bruce waved his goodbye, and walked through the crowd.

How ironic, the party Bruce was at was the London premiere of "Luke Cage". It was a solid and agreeable effort, despite the absence of Iron Fist. An invitation to another party was taken up, and Bruce also had an enjoyable time, but he could not stomach the vapidness of this lifestyle. He was compelled to leave. It was 2 AM, and he found his Hispano Suiza exactly where he left it. He was going to go to his London home in Wimbledon Village. On the way there, something entirely out of the ordinary happened.

"Hello Bruce."

If it was any other person, they would of crashed the car, but this was Bruce Wayne who frightens even the hardest of criminals, and he merely stalled a little bit. Lucius Fox had suddenly appeared in the passengers seat.

"How did you do that?" Bruce was concerned, but he hid it well.

"It's easy when you're a wizard." Lucius laughed. "I didn't realize how bad this country has gotten over the last decade. Relax, I'll tell you everything when you get inside, if I may be invited of course."

Bruce immediately noticed the wand in Lucius' hand. If he could appear and disappear at will then he likely would have other powers as well. Lucius Fox was a genius, he wouldn't just appear without some sort of ace up his sleeve.

Bruce parked near the curb and the village was still somewhat busy.

"Ah, the weather is nice this time of night", said Lucius, enjoying the breeze.

"So, you were hiding things from me as well."

"Well, yeah, but not for the same reasons." His face suddenly became more concerned. "If you will", Lucius said as he nudged his shoulder towards the door.

"You really have a nice home, but a little humble for Bruce Wayne I'd say."

"The extravagances are just a cover, friend. So tell me all about actual magic."

"Well I think you should take a seat for this one. Oh, and thanks for the champagne."

"Don't mention it", said Bruce as he sat on a comfortable couch.

Lucius grabbed a stool from the adjacent bar and sat parallel to Bruce.

"OK, here it goes. There is a society of witches and wizards who have an entirely separate society from "muggles", that is a slur for non magical folk. Magic is all around us, there are creatures, plants and, institutions and literature. Through enchantments, they are hidden from peoples eyes, and no one knows these wizards exist, and if they do, their memory is wiped of the encounter."

Bruce wondered if his memory had ever been wiped.

"I'm a wizard, and so is most of my family. I didn't appreciate all the blatant prejudice against muggles though. Clearly we didn't have to deal with racism like most people in those days, but I saw it, and encountered it, there aren't that many wizards mind you so we are scattered, especially in the United States. We are more individualistic than anybody. So I got up and left when I turned 17 and entered real society."

"So you just whipped up some false records and went to MIT that way."

"Exactly. I haven't used magic in 40 years mind you, but tonight something happened that made me change my mind. I was inspired by you Mister Wayne." Lucius smiled warmly.

"I'm listening." Bruce's mind worked on an entirely different level than most peoples, he was certifiably a genius by even the harshest of standards. He already had a good idea of wizarding culture and how it worked.

"There are a group of wizards and witches who I would consider terrorists, they are run by a VERY evil man. I can't actually say his name, it is literally cursed. Saying it will draw attention to here, but the group he leads are called the Death Eaters. Tonight I was accosted by one of them."

"Is this why the meeting with Lakshmi Mittal was cancelled?"

Lucius nodded.

"Yes, I was having breakfast at a place in East London, trust me, it is worth going to, and afterwards I decided to take a walk. I'm a wizard, what should I be afraid of? Then I saw a pair of Death Eaters, I could see the signifying mark that Death Eaters have on them, they were about to rape this young woman, probably a muggle, when I shot a protego charm at them. That puts a defensive bubble between them and the woman, so she could get away. I got into a duel with them, but I sent a beacon call becase I'm damn old (laughter), but then the authorities came. Lucky me, it was my brother, who is an auror. They are the closest thing to a wizard James Bond you will get."

Bruce nodded.

"So this, dictator, only has a presence around Britain?"

"Yes, but only because so many people oppose him. He is THE most powerful wizard in history, so powerful in fact that he is an immortal."

"How did he attain it?", asked a mystified Bruce

"Through horcruxes. They are objects you can store a piece of your soul after you murder someone. Mister V, that's as far as I'll go, he has one left, but he used to have six. So he literally had seven lives. An you handle a story? Alright, about 12 years ago, there was a boy named Harry Potter who was destined through a prophecy to battle him. When Harry was just a baby, well let's just call him what he wants to be called, "The Dark Lord", for semantics sake. The Dark Lord was going to murder Harry because he heard of the prophecy. Harrys father was killed quickly, but his mother defended Harry until The Dark Lord had "no choice" but to kill her too. The compassion of his parents "triggered" a magical barrier around Harry from harm, this barrier comes from people who sacrifice themselves for others, and when the Dark Lord tried to kill him, the curse rebounded. He wasn't defeated, but he became a kind of vapor, and stayed in hising until Harry was 11. Harry had a piece of the Dark Lords soul inside him, so Harry was an accidental horcrux. So the only way for the Dark Lord to die was for Harry to die. So Harry was drawn to die, but instead he was kidnapped, and he was put under a spell so he can never die, or retaliate, and also, the Dark Lord cannot die."

Bruce absorbed this mouthful. Not a very superstitious man, his entire world was turned upside down with the fact that he now knew that magic was real.

"Has anyone ever found Harry Potter?"

"No, and Britain is all the worst because of it. People die every day just to keep the Death Eaters in check. The magical world is in a Civil War to be frank about it."

"Can magic be attained?" Bruce wondered, it would never hurt to have contingincies for all possible situations.

"I'm afraid not, at least not use it. But "muggles" can learn to make magical potions. It is an entire science and art form in itself, and I know you like to keep busy. With potions, you could get your job done much faster."

"Why didn't you tell me?"

"Would you have believed me?"

"I'm trusting you on one sole act of magical relocation."

"Well I haven't met a single magical person since I have lived in Gotham, I am from Tennessee. "

"I would like to learn about potions, and wand lore. I bet there is a lot to learn about the consistency of wands."

Lucius smiled again. "That's the ticket."

Bruce was shocked at what he had heard tonight, but he accepted this reality as fact.

The next three months, in addition to hi responsibilities as Bruce Wayne and also as The Dark Knight, were devoted to magical potions and wizard education.

Lucius could apparate wherever he wanted to, and he also had a flying motorcycle.

"The Albertus Magnus Institute, my old alma mater. Bruce was passed off as a "squib", a non magical person in a wizarding family.

"I'm an orphan", Bruce said to the suspicious Dean of the school. "And I had amnesia."

"Old text books." Lucius drew out every potion making book and magical academic text in the vast library of the academy. At Bruce's secret bunker in Gotham, magical plants, animals, roots and otherwise were imported for his personal use. Befitting America, there was no law such as the one in Britain where muggle heads of state must be notified of such things. Bruce doubted the current president. would understand the basic concepts of potion making anyway. Bruce was driven. The tale of Harry Potter sounded so similar to his own, and the more he read about him for various sources, reputable or not, the more he wanted him to be rescued.

"Hey Al, this is my friend Bruce Wayne, he wants to wrestle your erkling. He needs some of its earwax!"