Death's Knight: Revisited
Disclaimer: This is a work of fanfiction and constitutes no claim on the personalities or ideas incorporated in the Harry Potter series or those of the DC Universe contained within.
A/N: The following AU story is best understood if you are familiar with the mainstream comics of the DC Universe as well as the story of Harry Potter. If you aren't a fan of DC, or dislike comics, this probably isn't the story for you. Ideas being used come from Green Lantern, Sandman, World's Finest (The New 52 Universe, and the mind of Heather Sinclair. This universe differs greatly from the one you may be used to, be it the comics, movies or animated features. This story begins a year after the inception of the New 52, and merges with the post Voldemort world of Harry Potter.
This tale is inspired by Heather Sinclair's wonderful Death's Knight Story, and is being retold with her permission
Chapter 3 –
The hero's fist smashed into my nose, breaking it.
That was the moment I learned that Dudley never really learned to punch. Blood gushed from my ruined nose, and the rooftop rushed up to meet me.
I'd never really understood the saying that no good deed goes unpunished before. In that moment, the meaning became crystal clear to me.
oooOOOooo
Thursday 30 September, 1999
Four months earlier:
Power Ring flight simply cannot be described. My first flight on a school broom had been a freedom I'd never experienced. Flying on my Nimbus amplified that feeling beyond my understanding. Banking into that first turn on my Firebolt had shown me that I'd never really flown before.
High in the sky over Scotland flying by no more than the application of my will and the power of Death's Ring proved that I had been blind before. There was absolutely no comparison between Power Ring flight and riding a broom.
Still, I realized as Hogwarts came into sight, responsibility came before recreation. I landed at the gates to the School, Death's cloak shifting from the black and silver 'uniform' that it defaulted to when I was actively using the ring to a set of robes.
The gates were closed and locked. Breaching the gate (and the wards) would require no effort at all on my part, but in as much as I was here for a meeting, and that bit of rudeness would likely not be appreciated.
I ended up waiting for three minutes outside the gates, wondering just who would be letting me onto the grounds. So very much had changed, would Hagrid still be here?
The answer to that question had to wait, as the old man himself suddenly appeared in a sheet of flame courtesy of his phoenix… who did not appear to be Fawkes.
"Mr. Potter," Dumbledore said in way of greeting as he opened the gates. "So good to see you."
"And you, Headmaster," I responded. "You didn't need to come out yourself to greet me."
"Again, beings of great power," he said, his eyes twinkling, "suddenly appearing near Hogwarts always receive my immediate attention. Even if they appear to arrive through flight."
"Flight?" I echoed. I wondered if the Dumbledore of my world had been as on the ball as this one was. He did have the reputation, but I had never seen this level of sheer competence.
"I notice that you do not appear to have a broom, Mr. Potter," the old man noted.
"A broom?" I echoed. "No, not for a while now. I had an old favorite broom damaged beyond repair in an accident, and haven't been able to bring myself to replace it."
"Hmm, how peculiar," he spent a few seconds staring at me before continuing. "Let us away to the castle, shall we? We have our meeting to get out of the way, after all."
I had made a mistake. I had presented myself to Albus Dumbledore as something of a puzzle. One never presented a puzzle to Albus Dumbledore if one didn't want his undivided attention.
oooOOOooo
Forty minutes later, and the Potter Scholarship for Muggleborn, Half Bloods, Magical Creatures and Really Skint Pure Bloods was established and funded for the upcoming school year. Dismissed by the Headmaster, I was following the Head Girl through the halls of Hogwarts while pretending to not know the way.
Evidently, there was a certain novelty to escorting a stranger through the school, because Miss Cooper was leading me on the most roundabout route possible, clearly wanting to know who I was and what I was doing at the school, but unwilling to ask.
For some reason I found that hilarious. But I did my best not to show it, concentrating instead on trying to remember if there had been a version of this girl in the original universe. I tried to recall the Ravenclaws from the year behind Luna but was coming up empty. In all honesty, unless they played Quidditch, or were friends with Luna or Hermione, I didn't know many of the Ravenclaws or Hufflepuffs from my time at the school.
That, I found to be a bit pathetic, and resolved to do better. I resolved to grow a pair and reconnect with Hermione and Ron. And Maybe Luna, if she exists. Of all the people I knew, Luna is the one who would accept my story without question.
If I dared tell it.
Finally, we arrived at the library. The young Miss Cooper held the door open for me, and I was almost laughing again. I was only two years older than she was, why was I thinking of her as being 'young'?
"Miss Abbott?"
I looked around wondering what had happened to Madam Pince when I found myself looking Hannah Abbott right in the eye.
"Well, hello," she said in that quiet tone of a librarian.
"Miss Abbott," Miss Cooper said in a happy positive tone, "This is Mr. Potter, the Headmaster asked that I escort him here to introduce Mr. Potter to you and Mr. Filch."
Filch? The mention of the school's caretaker took me by surprise. I wondered why Dumbledore had thought I wanted to meet that miserable old bastard?
"Who are you?" the unmistakable voice of Argus Filch rang out. "And what are you doing in my library?"
I don't think I'll ever forget the shock of discovering Argus Filch was the Hogwarts librarian.
With rules. Oh, Merlin, so many rules.
oooOOOooo
Wednesday 6 October, 1999
It appeared that the Ring had been right. The North Atlantic harvester construct was surrounded by a full dozen armored warriors.
So much for my 'nothing will bother it two miles down' theory.
The soldiers turned away from the construct to face a of pair new arrivals. One was wearing a form of armor as well, but not the same as the others. Where the original dozen warriors were clad head to toe in a blue-ish almost crustacean-like armor, the tall blond newcomer was wearing some sort of golden chainmail on his upper body and dark green trousers and gauntlets. In one hand he held a golden trident that was taller than he was. The second newcomer was short and pudgy, wearing some kind of robe that actually flowed in the currents.
The truly amazing thing was that neither of them were wearing any sort of breathing apparatus. Two miles beneath the surface. Well neither was I, but I had a Power Ring, while they did not.
To say that this was odd would be something of an understatement. Strangely distorted sounds started reaching me reminding me of the merfolk's song from the Egg during the Triwizard, and I realized that these strange beings were talking.
"Ring, provide translation," I subvocalized.
COMPLIANCE:
"… seem to be doing anything," the tall blond was saying. "Vulko, what do you make of it?"
"I have no idea what this… construct is doing, My King," the chubby advisor responded, "but it is doing something. Water is entering the structure at the top and exiting here," he said with a gesture. "I can detect no meaningful differences between the input and the output, the construct is not changing the temperature of the water around it, nor the salinity. I am at a loss as to what it does."
Well, if nothing else, that was my cue.
"Ring, full translation, make sure they can understand me." I ordered.
COMPLIANCE:
"Greetings," I called out. "The construct is mine, I can explain its function is you would like. May I approach?"
As one, the warriors and their king pivoted to face me, while the chubby one, Vulko, who I took to be some kind of advisor reacted in shock that someone would be so close undetected. I kept my arms out from my body with my hands open, showing that I held no weapons.
If they turned out to be aggressively hostile and didn't recognize my Ring as a weapon, well, that would hardly be my fault, would it?
"Identify yourself," the sea King demanded.
"My name is Harry Potter," I answered. "My apologies, your Majesty, I had no idea that your kingdom was nearby when I setup my collector. I can move it if you like."
"The oceans of the entire world are my domain," the blond responded. "By what right do you pollute my waters with your machine?"
"Might I approach," I asked, "or are we going to continue to shout at each other over the distance?"
"You may approach, Harry Potter," the big man said.
I did as I was instructed, coming to within two meters of the blond king before stopping. As a side note, walking underwater was an odd experience.
Have I mentioned that I never learned to swim?
Once I stopped, the Sea King's troops surrounded us, their weapons at the ready. Unbidden, the Ring filled my mind with tactical options for dealing with them.
I was really starting to love the Ring. If only I'd had it when I was fighting Tommy and his boys.
"In all honesty," I said calmly, "I find the concept of anyone claiming dominion over the entire world Sea to be a bit… odd. Has this claim been adjudicated anywhere, or is it simply a traditional claim?"
"You are a surface dweller," the King noted. "Your hair, your clothing are… dry. How?"
"Ring, identify this person," I instructed silently.
COMPLIANCE: KING ORIN OF ATLANTIS, the Ring responded. BIRTH NAME: ARTHUR CURRY. SPECIES: ATLANTEAN-HUMAN HYBRID. META-HUMAN POWERS: SUPERHUMAN STRENGTH, STAMINA, ENDURANCE, DURABILITY, REFLEXES, AGILITY, SENSES, AND HEALING ALL ATTRIBUTABLE TO THE SUBJECT'S ATLANTEAN HERITAGE. THE SUBJECT ALSO EXHIBITS BROADSPECTRUM MULTISPECIES TELEPATHY WHICH APPEARS TO BE A META ABILTIY. THE TRIDENT HE CARRIES IS AN OBJECT OF GREAT ARCANE POWER. FOUNDING MEMBER OF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE.
I twisted my raised left hand to display Death's Ring. "As several reputable commentators have noted, Power Rings are awesome."
Curry's eyes widened and he took a step back from me. "A Black Lantern!" he hissed.
"Nope," I said, spreading the fingers of both my hands, palm open. "Black Power Ring, not a Black Lantern. I can see how you might make that mistake, but beyond having a black Power Ring, I have nothing in common with the Black Lanterns. I'm alive for one thing, and I have no desire for universal conquest for another."
Curry narrowed his eyes now that the shock of seeing my ring had passed, "Why are you here, Harry Potter, and why did you place this… machine in my domain?"
"I'm here because your people tripped a proximity alarm on my harvester," I explained.
"Harvester?" Vulko interrupted. "What is it harvesting?"
"Gold."
"Gold?" Vulko asked. "There is no gold here."
"That's where you're wrong," Harry grinned. "There is gold everywhere around us. The seawater contains on average one milligram of gold per tonne of seawater."
"You're talking about dissolved solids?" Vulko asked.
"Why would you bother constructing your machine for such a tiny amount of gold?" Curry interrupted.
"Ah, it's a tiny amount per tonne, but by running constantly, this harvester will produce 400 kilograms today," I pointed out, inordinately pleased that I wasn't the only one who hadn't known about gold being dissolved in seawater.
The Sea King looked to his advisor, confusion clear in his expression. Vulko appeared to be doing some calculations in his head before nodding in affirmation of what I had said.
"Why?" Curry asked.
"I was given this Ring and a mission by a higher power," I explained. "It's an important mission that evidently only I can do, and it badly needs to be done, but in the meantime, the job doesn't exactly come with a pay check. This is my solution. The first day's harvest set me up for the foreseeable future, so the harvesters are just sort of ticking over now."
"Harvesters?" Curry asked sharply. "More than one?"
"Six," I said, "spread evenly through the world sea. You know it seems to me that we could make a deal."
"A deal?" Curry asked.
"Call it a lease if you like. It occurs to me that I only need to run my harvesters for my needs for a day every year or so. Looking at your soldiers' armor, and comparing it to your own, it seems that your society might be a little metal poor."
"What are you saying?" Vulko asked.
"It wouldn't be difficult for me to adjust my harvesters to produce the metals you need… iron, titanium, aluminium, zinc…"
"What kind of quantities are we talking about?" Vulko interrupted.
"Perhaps," Curry interjected, "we should move these discussions to a more… controlled environment."
oooOOOooo
Friday 8 October, 1999
I came away from my negotiations with the Atlanteans with two realizations. The first being that I liked making a deal more than I like fighting. I could tell that Arthur Curry really didn't want my harvesters in the ocean, but he wanted the metals I offered more.
The second thing I realized was that I needed to practice more with the ring. Asking it to how to do something had been working for me so far, but wouldn't work in a fight. I had no illusions that the Black Lanterns would be as open to negotiation as King Arthur (Ha!) had been.
Then I started wondering if this underwater civilization was related to the Atlantis that I had been taught was the source of magic in anyway.
That wasn't something I was ever likely to figure out, being in a whole new universe and all.
Practicing with the Ring was what brought me to an old overgrown manor house. The Beaudesert in Staffordshire. I had been sitting in the Hogwarts Library, finding myself distracted from my studies by memories of seeing Hermione with what could possibly be the very book I was taking notes from and wishing I could share these old texts with her like we used to, when I recalled a lesson from Little Whinging Primary.
Association is an odd thing. One of the teachers had been a devotee of the old manor houses of the aristocracy. She told us of the nation's collection of Ancestral homes, and how many of them had fallen onto hard times with the end of the Victorian era, with many of them being involved in catastrophic fires.
It had taken the ring most of an hour to find a suitable candidate. The Ring had informed me that this particular house was almost as old as Hogwarts, starting as a monastery in the 1100s, before becoming a hunting lodge for the local bishop. Then when Henry VII turned away from Catholicism, the land was confiscated and the manor house was built. The manor was ultimately lost to a fire in 1909.
Among the items listed as lost on the tax records was a massive library of 'antique books' which is what brought me to the site. Here, I could practice with the ring, workout with my magic, and build an excuse to make contact with the Hermione Granger of this new reality.
I played the beam emanating from Death's Ring over the remains of the ancient house willing it to find the remains of books. It took less than three minutes for the first sign of bindings were detected.
Then I started the hard part. Combining the power of Death's Ring and my magic. The black beam encapsulated all of the remains of a single tome that remained after almost a century of being exposed to the elements after the fire that destroyed the house, lifting it from where it had lain all these years.
I gripped the Elder Wand in my right hand and aimed it down the beam, casting Reparo with everything I had, while instructing the ring to fill in the missing parts as needed.
I couldn't help but smile when an old book began to assemble itself before my eyes.
oooOOOooo
Monday 11 October, 1999
"Excuse me, Miss?" I said.
Hermione Granger looked up from the book she was cataloging, without the slightest sign of recognition in her eyes. That broke my heart a little bit.
"Can I help you?"
"I hope so," I said with a grin. "My gran passed last year and left me some books. I think they're kind of old, and was wondering if they might be worth anything."
The young woman wearing the face of my best friend smiled kindly. The sort of smile one offered someone who thinks last year's mass market best seller might be worth something. She accepted the folio from me and opened it to gently remove the contents.
Upon seeing the volumes the folio contained, her eyes widened and she paled.
"Mr. Seevers?" She called out hesitantly.
"Yes, Hermione?" the Bookseller answered from what I assumed to be his office.
"I think you might want to see this," she said nervously.
"Is there a problem Miss?" I asked innocently.
"Something special Hermio…" Chester Seevers, a balding man in his mid 70s, left his office, coming into the shop proper and spotting the tome Hermione cradled in her hands. "Atlas Novus?" the old man gasped, removing the book from Hermione's hands and placing it delicately onto the counter. "sine tabulae geographica." He looked up to meet my gaze. "The 1736 edition. Where did you find this?"
"My Gran passed last year," I repeated. "She left me her books because I'm the only reader in the family. These three didn't seem to be the kind of book you just have around to read, so I thought I'd see if they're worth anything."
"Three?" the bookseller echoed, looking to the folio and gently removing the black spined book. "An 1898 Wisden?" he gasped. "The spine is perfect, the bindings, intact… the covers…" he looked up in awe. "This is an amazing find."
"Really?" I asked. "I knew it was old, but I never thought that a 'Cricketer's almanac', whatever that is, would be valuable."
The third book clearly took Seever's breath away.
oooOOOooo
"Never heard of him," Neville said over the beat of the music as he pushed the bowl of peanuts across the table toward me. "This Shakespeare bloke is a big deal then?"
"You might say that," I laughed. "Some people say that he is the root of all English literature. His First Folio from 1622 was a great find."
"1622? That's not even four hundred years old," Neville pointed out taking a long pull from his pint. "The library back at Longbottom Lodge had piles of books older than that."
"I don't think you could get away with selling books about magic to the Muggles, Nev," I pointed out. "The Bookseller has taken all three books on consignment, if recent prices stand up, I'm looking at something like two million for my cut."
"Pounds or Galleons?" Neville asked with a raised eyebrow.
"Pounds," I grinned.
"Eh, cash is cash," he shrugged. "I guess that means you're paying tonight, since you're so flush."
The song ended and the dancer made her way off the stage. The first notes of a new song blasted from the club's sound system. I recognized the song as the Eagles' Witchy Woman, and a new dancer was strutting her way toward the pole.
"This is the girl I was telling you about," Neville shouted.
I looked up and was shocked to see Daphne Greengrass, dressed in a stereotypical Witches' costume, looking directly at me and offering me a wink before starting her dance routine.
"Hard to believe she's a Hogwarts graduate," Neville laughed, stroking his porn-stache and signaling the waitress for a refill. "Would you look at those tits?"
It was hard to look at anything else.
"If I'd had a clue what she was hiding under her robes, I'd have been all over her," Neville continued as Daphne abandoned her dancing and mounted the pole.
I had never been so jealous of an inanimate object in my entire life. Daphne shed pieces of her costume as she revolved about the pole.
"Why would a witch decide to be a stripper?" I asked Neville, never taking my eyes off the girl.
"Same reason most girls decide to be strippers," Neville laughed. "Money. She makes more here in a night than she would in a month working at her father's business."
I looked to my left to stare at Neville incredulously, but my response was stifled by the bra that arced through the air to land on my face.
I badly needed to find a girlfriend.
oooOOOooo
Wednesday 8 December, 1999
"A moment of your time, Mr. Potter?"
I stopped on the stairs and made sure the Ring was defending my mind before turning to face Dumbledore. "What can I do for you Headmaster?"
"I was hoping for a chance to review your progress," he said, the ever-present twinkle in his eye as he put a hand in the small of my back, guiding me in the direction of his office. "And perhaps discuss our hobbies. I've recently taken an interest in jewelry for example…"
Yep… I'd made myself a puzzle for Albus Dumbledore.
oooOOOooo
Saturday 1 January, 2000
I woke to find a naked woman on top of me, kissing my neck. Correction: A naked Hannah Abbott on top of me, kissing my neck.
It had started simply enough. Hannah had been quite helpful in my research of the spell work I was anticipating needing on my impending quest, and all the hype for the New Year celebration for the 'Millennium' had been building for a while (even though I could always hear Hermione in my head protesting that the millennium wouldn't end for another year yet), so I invited Hannah out for dinner and drinks to celebrate.
Dinner was fun, drinking got the evening started, then we were dancing, then came midnight, and we kissed on the dancefloor in celebration of the achievement of being alive at that particular moment.
And then the party really got going.
It was four am by the time we got back to my flat. Hannah didn't blink when I hailed a cab, rather she decided to take full advantage of the room a London cab offered. She straddled me, and spent the entire ride grinding against me to the unending amusement of the cabbie.
We left a trail of clothing between my flat's door and my bed. Then the details got a bit fuzzy until I woke up.
"Oh, good," Hannah said when she came up for air, "You're awake."
Before I could say anything, she pulled her wand from beneath her pillow, stuck the tip between my lips and murmured a spell. Instantly my mouth no longer tasted like an uncleaned cat box. "Are you up to another go?" she asked.
"Anything for the lady," I grinned, cupping her arse. "Since she's asking so nicely, I mean."
"Will you, you know," she whispered nuzzling her lips next to my right ear, "do that thing again?"
"Thing again?" I asked.
"It was like you were vibrating," she shivered at the memory.
"Ring," I subvocalized, "did you do anything to me to improve my sexual technique?"
CONFIRMATION: the Ring responded. RINGBEARER WISHED TO PERFORM OPTIMALLY AND DIRECTED THIS UNIT TO ASSIST. I PROVIDED ASSISTANCE IN ASSURING OPTIMAL FEMALE ORGASM IN ORDER TO ENSURE FERTILIZATION.
"Fertilization?" I asked. "Is she…"
NEGATIVE, the Ring answered, IT IS THE WRONG PERIOD OF THE FEMALE'S CYCLE. THIS UNIT TOOK THE SESSION TO BE PRACTICE.
"I think," I said out loud that I might be able to do 'that thing' again…"
"Ring," I instructed. "Time to practice."
COMPLIANCE:
oooOOOooo
Tuesday 11 January, 2000
ALERT: BLACK RINGS DETECTED.
I looked up from my notes on elemental transmutation when the Ring made its report. "How many Ring Users, and Where are they?" I subvocalized.
SIX DISTINCT RING BEARERS HAVE ENTERED TERRA'S ATMOSPHERE AND ARE DESCENDING UPON NORTH AMERICA. The Ring responded. MOST LIKELY DESTINATION: METROPOLIS.
I began to gather my notes. Metropolis. That meant I was likely going to come into contact with Superman. Not the one who tried to kill me, of course, the younger one. The one from this Universe.
I didn't really hold the actions of his dimensional doppelganger against him. At least not much. But in my exercises with learning to use the Ring, I'd avoided travelling to the U. S. specifically to avoid coming into contact with the Kryptonian. It looked like that was no longer an option. I might be on 'vacation' but the elimination of the Black Lanterns was my first responsibility.
"Leaving us already?" Hannah asked innocently. She had been so very attentive since we had begun to date.
"I just remembered an appointment," I explained quietly as I moved to reshelf the books I had been using.
"See you tonight?" she asked, reaching out to assist me in finding the correct place on the shelf.
"I honestly don't know when I'll be done," I answered, my hand lightly brushing against hers, "but I'll try."
As I exited the Library, earning a look of loathing from Filch, the Ring offered an update.
CONFIRMATION: DEATH RING BEARERS HAVE CONVERGED ON METROPOLIS AND ARE CURRENTLY CONFRONTING KRYPTONIAN DESIGNATED SUPERMAN.
That did not bode well. One on one, Superman could offer any of the Black Lanterns a fair fight. Six on one… well, at least they couldn't generate any more rings.
I made my way out of the Castle, weaving my way through the students in the halls since classes were out for the day. After all this time, my presence in the school was subject of many rumors, the latest being that I was 'Miss Abbott's' lover.
Which I suppose I was.
ALERT: KRYPTONIAN DESIGNATED SUPERMAN HAS BEEN JOINED IN THE BATTLE AGAINST THE BLACK LANTERNS BY METAHUMAN ORGANIZATION DESIGNATED JUSTICE LEAGUE.
That was fast I mused. It had been less than three minutes since I had received the initial alert. "How did they arrive so quickly?" I asked the ring.
MATTER TRANSFER FROM THE ORBITAL HEADQUARTERS DESIGNATED WATCHTOWER.
Matter transfer? I wondered if the heroes of my original universe had Star Trek transporters like that. Putting that thought aside, I exited the castle, only to find more students out on the grounds enjoying each other's company and the sun set. The sun sets early in Scotland in October, but there were always those willing to be out of doors as long as the weather allowed it.
This forced me to make my way to the gates. Simply disappearing where I might be seen was a bad idea. I rushed to the gates without running, moving as quickly as possible, covertly shoving the items I carried into the Ring's subspace storage.
Finally reaching the gates, I passed through them, utterly unsurprised when they closed behind me. With a thought, Death's Cloak warped from the illusion of wizards robes to the black formfitting outfit Death had originally gifted me with, her silver Ankh shining on my chest… or it would be if I hadn't gone invisible with the shift.
A lot of time and practice had gone into making shifting from the cloak's Robes mode to uniform mode look like apparation. Since attracting Dumbledore's attention it only seemed prudent. It seemed that I had made the right decision, for as soon as I vanished from sight, the Headmaster stepped from behind an illusion near the gates, a thoughtful look on his face.
Something to worry about later, I decided as I had the Ring fold space and time to place me over the fight taking place in Metropolis.
oooOOOooo
"Ring," I directed, "identify combatants."
COMPLIANCE: the Ring responded.
DESIGNATION MEMBERS OF THE JUSTICE LEAGUE
SUPERMAN: the man in red and blue grappling with an alien Black Lantern highlighted in my vision. SPECIES: KRYPTONIAN. SOLAR POWERED, EXTREMELY STRONG, EXTREMELY FAST, EXTREMELY RESILIANT. BROAD RANGE OF META POWERS. VULNERABILITIES: SOLAR RADIATION IN THE RED GIANT BAND. KRYPONITE RADIATION. MAGIC.
THREAT LEVEL: HIGH.
CYBORG: the machine man spraying what the Ring's heads up display identified as an 'Ultrasound projector' at a humanoid Black Lantern lit up.
SPECIES: HUMAN/MACHINE HYBRID. EXTREMELY STRONG, FAST, SOMEWHAT RESILIANT. CAPABLE OF SUBBORNING ALMOST ANY MACHINE. VULERABILITES: KINETIC IMPACT, EXTREME TEMPERATURES, MAGIC.
THREAT LEVEL: HIGH.
WONDERWOMAN: the sole woman among the heroes highlighted in my vision. She was actually parrying a Power Ring's beam with her bracelets, somehow redirecting it back at the amorphous Black Lantern she was fighting.
SPECIES: MAGICAL CONSTRUCT.
DIANA OF THEMYSCIRA. HEIR TO QUEEN HIPPOLYTA OF THE AMAZONS.
EXTREME STRENGTH, SPEED, AGILITY, DURABILITY, ENDURANCE AND REFLEXES, LONGEVITY, FLIGHT, HAND-TO-HAND COMBATANT WITHOUT PARALLEL. UTILIZES INDESTRUCTIBLE AMAZONIAN BRACELETS AND THE LASSO OF TRUTH
VULERABILITES: KINETIC IMPACT, EXTREME TEMPERATURES, MAGIC. ALSO BINDING HER LIMBS INHIBITS ALL OF HER POWERS.
THREAT LEVEL: EXTREMELY HIGH.
GREEN LANTERN: now it was the man with the green Power Ring wearing the aura. His green beam seemed to cancel out his opponent's black beam utterly. Something to consider.
SPECIES: HUMAN.
UTILIZES A GREEN POWER RING OF OA. WILL BASED CONSTRUCTS.
VULERABILITES: WILL CONSTRUCTS VULERALBLE TO FEAR CONSTRUCTS AND THE COLOR YELLOW, MAGIC.
THREAT LEVEL: EXTREMELY MODERATE.
FLASH: This hero was moving too quickly for the ring to highlight, so an image of him appeared before me. The hero was battering the Black Lantern he was facing too quickly for the entity to respond. It was only the massive size of the Ring Bearer that kept it in the fight.
SPECIES: HUMAN.
EXTREME SPEED, AGILITY, DURABILITY, ENDURANCE AND REFLEXES
VULERABILITES: FEW. SUBJECT'S REACTION TIME RENDER MOST ATTACKS AGAINST HIM POINTLESS. ONLY POSSIBLE ATTACK WOULD BE COMBINED WITH DISTRACTION.
THREAT LEVEL: EXTREME.
BATMAN: A man in a bat themed costume highlighted in my vision. He appeared to be throwing small objects from his belt at the female humanoid Black Lantern who was advancing on him steadily. Her Ring and environmental shield dealing with every weapon he used.
SPECIES: HUMAN.
HIGHLY SKILLED IN HAND-TO-HAND COMBATANT. UTILIZES A WIDE VARIETY OF WEAPONS AND TOOLS.
VULERABILITES: NORMAL HUMAN.
THREAT LEVEL: MINIMAL.
I blinked. "Ring, confirm, the Batman has no meta powers or cosmic weapons?"
A stat screen appeared before my eyes, outlining the skillset of the man in the costume.
CONFIRMED: the Ring replied. BASELINE HUMAN.
Bloody hell! What the hell was he doing as a member of the Justice League? "Ring, retrieve Black Rings."
COMPLIANCE:
I watched as inky tendrils snaked from Death's Ring toward the Black Lanterns. Then I noticed that the Female Black Lantern facing the all too human Batman had him pinned against a brick wall and had manifested a blade of black energy to disembowel him.
Without thought I launched myself toward the doomed man, placing my body between the pair. Her blade splashed ineffectually against my environmental shield as I grasped her right wrist in my left hand, looked into her eyes, and recognized the emptiness of death that I saw in Hermione, Ron, and the rest of the Weasley family the day all of this started.
On my silent command, the Ring sliced through the Black Lantern's wrist, separating the ring from her body and freeing the woman's soul to once again find its next adventure.
The no longer animated body collapsed at my feet, while the ring tried to fight me from its place on the severed hand. A tendril from Death's Ring encapsulated Necron's proxie and ended the Black Lantern Ring's existence, absorbing the black energy into itself.
Five more rings flew to me, and each was absorbed in turn, reducing the rings themselves to vapor.
My obligation to Death completed for the moment, I turned to the Hero in the fixation on bats.
"Are you alright, Batman?" I extended my hand to help the man to his feet.
The hero's fist smashed into my nose, breaking it.
That was the moment I learned that Dudley never really learned to punch. Blood gushed from my ruined nose, and the rooftop rushed up to meet me.
I'd never really understood the saying that no good deed goes unpunished before. In that moment, the meaning became crystal clear to me.
oooOOOooo
"You fucking bastard," I gasped through the pain and blood, "you broke my fucking nose! Fuck you! See if I save your sorry arse again you ungrateful bastard!"
Somewhere deep in the back of my mind, I could hear Hermione huffing about my language, but I didn't care. That fucking hurt!
I saw Batman's eyes widen when the Elder Wand appeared in my right hand, but didn't really care. "Episkey," I chanted, pointing the wand at my face. A split second of excruciating pain as the nose reassumed its normal shape, and then my nose was suddenly very hot, followed by the sensation of extreme cold. I raised my left hand and touched my nose oh so gingerly. It still hurt, but the bleeding had stopped and I could breathe through it again.
"What the fucking hell is wrong with you?" I demanded, as the Ring informed me that the assembled Justice Leaguers had surrounded me. In response to this, my environmental shield bloomed back into being, and the Ring's tactical suggestions filled my mind. "I save your life and you break my nose."
"You healed yourself easily enough," Wonderwoman noted.
"And so would you if the bloody wanker popped you one without warning," I pointed out. "And if your reputation is in any way accurate you'd show your displeasure by getting all stabby."
"You killed those people," The Green Lantern pointed out, "all to absorb their rings."
"Is this some sort of power struggle among the Black Lanterns?" Flash asked.
"Okay," I said. "First of all, I didn't kill anyone, all of those beings were dead, and reanimated by their Power Rings. When I removed their Rings, I freed their souls. Second, I am not a Black Lantern."
"Black Ring, Black Uniform, and you're not a Black Lantern," The Greenie scoffed. "Pull the other one."
"Look mate," I snarled. These arsehole's attitudes were really getting to me. "The Guardians of Oa don't own green, and Bloody Necron doesn't own black."
"How can you claim those beings were dead?" Superman asked. "The dead don't just get up and walk around."
"Of course they do," I protested. "You're the bloke with all the super senses. Were they breathing? Did their hearts beat? Did they perspire during effort?"
"Who do you work for if not Necron?" Batman demanded.
"I work for Death herself. This isn't a Black Ring," I said holding up my left hand. "It's Death's Ring. She tasked me with ridding the universe of the Black Lanterns and returning the power that Necron stole from her."
"You expect us to believe you are working for some kind of Death god?" Superman asked.
"Oh, for…" I ran my left hand through my hair. "Don't any of you remember fighting the Black Lanterns?" I turned to face Wonderwoman. "You tell him."
"Why should I tell him?" She asked.
"You're Diana of Themyscira," I pointed out. "You've met Hades and been to his realm. You've met and spoken with the animated dead. If there is anyone who should know about Death Gods and the Animated Dead, it's you."
"Greek dead," she said, clearly not believing her own words.
"Oh, for fuck's sake," I said exasperated beyond all belief. These people were clearly not going to be reasonable. I set the ring to setting non-fatal, non-injurious, countermeasures against them.
The Leaguers exchanged looks before nodding. "It's an interesting story you weave, but you've killed people, the only place you're going is to prison," the Batman growled.
The Ring activated its countermeasures as the man tried to move, anchoring them all to the rooftop as I shot skyward. The trap wouldn't hold any of the powered individuals long, but long enough.
"I'm not sure what it is about my life that I always seem to be surrounded by overly officious idiots, but it seems the trend continues," I said from my vantage point. "Let us be clear, if I meant you harm, you would be harmed. Let this be an object lesson."
A simple switching charm moved their various costumes to another member until each of them was wearing a costume that rightfully belonged to someone else.
Hilariously, Batman ended up in Wonderwoman's enchanted armored swimsuit… and it turned out the man was so paranoid that under his mask, which had been switched to the Green Lantern, was another mask. I hoped that metal swimsuit chaffed, as my nose still hurt.
Wonderwoman was drowning in Superman's outfit, looking like she wanted to kill me, the Flash was buried under a mound of metal from Cyborg, and Superman, now overstuffed into the Flash's red outfit heaved himself free of the ring construct anchoring him in place, just as I folded time and space to return to London.
The look on his face was priceless.
In retrospect, I probably shouldn't have done the costume switch on them. It was immature, it was cruel, it was abusive, and it was antagonistic…
But Merlin knows, it was funny.