AN: Sorry It took so long to update. I have no excuse. But regardless I am now updating two of my three stories today. I'm working on that last one I promise. I learned something today: It's hard to write Young Justice in a serious style. Any tips regarding that will be highly appreciated. Once again thank's for reading my story. PLEASE REVIEW! Contrary to popular practice, I do enjoy criticism so don't be shy if you would like to address a problem, but please be polite. I will not feed a troll.

Also I forgot my disclaimer last time so for last chapter, this chapter, and all to come: I DO NOT OWN HARRY POTTER OR YOUNG JUSTICE!


Despite being the headquarters for a team of young superheroes and the former headquarters of the justice league itself, Mount Justice usually maintained some -though admittedly far from ordinary- semblance of normality. For example, it was normal to arrive at the cave and find yourself immediately thrust into the middle of the battle between two team members that may or may not have started out as a friendly spar. It was also just as normal to walk through the kitchen and find cakes literally baking themselves as cookbooks, bowls filled with mixed and unmixed ingredients, as well as kitchen utensils flew across the room spewing their contents across the tile followed closely behind by an unaccompanied mop cleaning messes as they were created. It was normal to find kids draped upside-down on a large support beam that nobody knew existed, (Robin was no longer told to "get down from there this instant," because he would often do so) and it was normal to have your perfectly organized stack of papers fly into your face as a speedster passed you in a hallway.

It could also be considered normal to find various birds lounging about the cave; however, it was not normal for those birds to be fully feathered, flying, poop-dropping, screeching, beak and all, living breathing animals. Mount justice catered solely to the costumed variety of the flock. So, when the zeta beam announced, "Flash 04," and the sound of small flapping wings and birds screeching mixed with high speed curses erupted through the nearly empty halls of Mount Justice, Robin and Kid Flash (who had been entertaining their boredom by trolling the many forms of social media) knew that today was certainly not going to be normal.

"WALLY!" The Flash's voice pierced through the chaotic squawks. Wally paled.

Robin mouthed an "What did you do?" in amusement to which his best friend could only shrug. The redhead seemed frozen to the couch, unable to release his death grip on the pillows. The two young boys shared a look of confusion and concern and Robin made to get up from the couch. The action was unwarranted; however, as the elder speedster came to them. The "fastest man in the world" stared at the boys -well, Wally in particular- with the apparent intent if incinerating them where they stood. Batman would have been jealous. Flash's normally pristine red suit was covered in bird droppings, and Robin vaguely recalled something about bird droppings being good luck; if that was the case then Barry had plenty of luck to spare. The birds who had assumedly made the droppings flew into the living area less than a second behind the hero. They began to flock around The Flash screeching and pecking at his fingers. Instantly more droppings were added to the cave floor. Robin sighed; someone would have to clean that up and it sure as hell wasn't going to be Wally.

The birds appeared to be owls, and each one was a different species. Robin thought he recognized a common barn owl, a snowy owl, and possibly an Eurasian Eagle Owl pulling on the lightning bolts of the speedster's cowl. Remarkably, all the owls seemed to be European in origin. Curious, but not necessarily important. Some of the owls had small pieces of paper tied to their legs and most were nocturnal species; and the way they continued to pester Wally's uncle was very unnatural indeed.

"Wallace West!" Barry screamed removing his cowl allowing the full intensity of his gaze to shine directly at his nephew. That was all of the screaming lecture Robin could decipher. The hero had begun to speak at an inhuman speed and his words bleed together and rise in pitch.

Robin turned to his best friend. What's this about? he mentally questioned There was no mind link, but Robin really didn't think it was necessary in this situation.

"Something about Owl Central and magical shooting zeta beams." Wally responded, finally finding his feet and rising from the couch. "I only heard about every fifth word or so."

Barry's face became as red as his suit his jaw clenched. Then, the hero sighed dramatically and shoved an envelope in his nephew's face. "Just read this.I believe it's addressed to you."

Wally tore open the envelope slowly holding it as one would a bad report card, and read it's content fast. The speedster paused, brought the paper closer to his face, read it again, looked up at his uncle -still dripping in owl poop and tapping his foot impatiently-, and then back at the paper. Wally laughed. He didn't stop laughing when Robin plucked the paper from Wally's hands and began to skim the content.

The content turned out to be a letter, a completely handwritten letter. "It's addressed to you?" Robin directed the question at Wally, but the letter could have been addressed to Barry -the wording was quite ambiguous.

"Actually," Wally managed though fits of laughter. "I think it's addressed to both of us." Wally had graduated from laughing standing up to acting like one of The Joker's victims and rolling on the floor.

Robin re-examined the letter:

Dear Young Boy or Whoever It May Concern,

This is the twenty-third attempt at correspondence made by our office. Reply is requested immediately upon the reception of this letter. Please be reminded that failure to do so is a punishable offence.

We have received intelligence on behalf of Dolores Jane Umbridge, Senior Undersecretary to the Minister of Magic, that on the evening of June 27, 2011 you (description given as young, red-headed, and -at the time of incident- wearing a suit of red and yellow) and your raven-haired compatriot demonstrated the following magical abilities in a Muggle-inhabited area and in the presence of a muggle:

Magical abilities of accelerated speed of unknown origin

Magical abilities of aided acrobatics of unknown origin

Wandless blast spells of unknown origin

possible instances of apparation and umbrekenisis

The severity of this breach of the International Statute of Wizarding Secrecy has resulted in the omission of the allotted official warning for a first offence. We regret to inform you that the presence of both yourself and your companion is required at the rescheduled disciplinary hearing at the Ministry of Magic at 10 A.M. on August 12th whereupon Ministry representatives will claim and destroy your wand.

Hoping you are doing well,

Yours sincerely,

Mafalda Hopkirk

Improper use of Magic Office

Ministry of Magic

Robin also had to bite back laughter as he finished reading the letter. The entire concept was absurd, and the writing was awkward as if the sender was completely baffled by the task. The phrases "raven-haired compatriot," and "muggle" (whatever that meant) "inhabited area" had especially tickled his humor. Robin, mimicking his friend's earlier actions, peeked over the letter at the birds still tormenting the elder hero. He couldn't suppress the small giggle that arose when he watched as a very small owl clamped itself onto The Flash's shoulder and nipped at the hero's hand when he tried to brush the bird off.

"You think this is funny?" The Flash flailed his arms like a child throwing a tantrum. "Well take a look at this!" The hero then produced a small stack of envelopes, each made of the same material, and bearing the same seal as the one currently in Robin's possession.

Robin accepted the letters and opened one cautiously. It contained the same message - Improper use of magic, destruction of wands, rescheduled disciplinary hearing- only this letter was labeled the nineteenth attempt. the next letter was the twelfth attempt with a different, but still rescheduled, hearing date. In his hand Robin held ten letters accusing Wally and him of using magic on June 27th. If Robin was correct, there were at least thirteen more letters unaccounted for. The amusement drained from his face.

"June 27th? June 27th." Robin tilted his head in concentration. "Wally, what were we doing on June 27th?"

"Oh, come on Rob, don't tell me you're taking this seriously. This is obviously a prank. Magic doesn't exist. I bet it's Zatanna; yah, that's it: this is Zatanna's way of getting back at me for the whole bunny in her hat prank." Wally responded from the floor. The continued laughing had started to cause his face to turn blue from a lack of oxygen.

Robin again looked at the letter, at the owls, at The Flash, at Wally. No, something wasn't right. Ignoring Wally's protests and Barry's resumed ranting Robin activated the holographic computer concealed in his glove. June. June. Where was he in June? He initiated the long-term memory GPS system Batman had installed after the Bialya incident last year. He found the file labeled "June" and opened it. June 27th. On June 27th he was in...England. European Owls. The letter only mentioned him and KF which ruled out a team mission, and the only other time the two had fought together was, "Klarion." He sated out loud.

"Um, dude, no offence, but I doubt Klarion would prank us. At least not without endangering millions of innocent civilians." Wally teased.

"No. We were fighting Klarion. Remember a few months ago, when we went to London..."

"...you mean the time where we snuck out of the country without permission?"

"And we took a detour to that one isolated farm town because you liked the food there..."

"...and didn't tell our parents?"

"Remember, Klarion appeared and we had to save the town."

"You know one of those oblivious parental figures is standing right over there..."

"... Someone in the crowd..."

"...can hear everything you're saying and is already more than slightly angry..."

"Wally! This is serious." Robin scolded. "Look, Whoever wrote this letter described our powers to a tee, but they couldn't recall our names. If this was a prank, you would think they'd at least know the names of their victims, right? But they didn't. They don't know us: personally or otherwise. Most everyone in the U.S. would recognize me," Robin ignored the Wally's indignant "hey," "So it's probably a foreign incident, which suggests the battle with Klarion. I don't know about the birds though."

"They," Barry interjected with annoyance. His anger seemed to have subdued slightly after Robin's speech. "Came with the letters."

"Right," Robin continued his analysis, "The owls must have followed Barry because in costume your description is similar to his, Wally."

"So, you think that there is a secret society of magic that -without knowing who we are, mind you- is trying to pin us for illegal magic?" Wally scoffed with a dismissive wave of his hand.

"No," Robin corrected, "I think that there is a magical society who believes we exposed the secret of magic to an entire town and is attempting to prosecute us to the full extent of their law for the crime."

"But everyone knows about magic. There's Zatanna, Zatara, Dr. Fate, Klarion, and those are just the people We know personally."

"I know," Robin lost himself in thought again. "I think we need to call Batman."

"I'm on it!" Barry Pulled the cowl over his now owl dropping encrusted hair, "Maybe I can loose these damn birds! I'll be back in a Flash!"

With that statement, the hero was off, speeding through the cave and out the door towards Happy Harbor. The owls sped off after the hero. They themselves looked like blurs as they easily matched Flash's speed. Wally's mouth fell to the floor at the scene, and Robin smirked. Magic Indeed.

One small owl -an European Pygmy owl if Robin was correct- perched on Robin's shoulder. The grip was tight, but the padded fabric of his uniform kept the talons from digging into his skin. The owl looked expectantly at Robin and then at the papers in his hand, as if asking him to do something. Robin sighed placing the stack of summons on the couch behind him. Wally had collapsed onto the couch as well and seemed torn between picking up the letters or the game controller. Knowing that there was a secret society after you was a start, and it helped if you also knew what they could do. But there was one question that had to be answered before any well thought-out plan of action could be made.

Robin met the little owl's gaze. "Who." It said softly.

Robin chuckled, yes that, but also: Who are the "good guys?"