Author's Note: Harry Potter and Detective Comics (DC) are owned by their respective companies, writers, publishers, etc. I'm simply blending story elements in an attempt to entertain. I make no money from this.

Chapter One: The Powder Keg and the Blasting Curse

I grumbled as Eve fastened my tie around my neck, shooting me an amused look, her pale skin rosy with a light dusting of makeup and her blue eyes glinting in amusement. "Mighty Magus," she teased, "one of the strongest mortal magic-users on Earth laid low by a party with old friends."

"It's not the old friends I have an issue with," I said, "it's the politicians. Ninety percent of them are leeches. In the three months since The Spectre I've been hounded by owls day and night as you know. I've thought about moving into our HQ－I'd like to see one of those bloody birds reach me at Dan's."

Eve rolled her eyes. "You're ridiculous."

"Don't mince words, Love, tell me how you really feel."

She tightened my tie a little too much and I sucked in a harsh breath as I reached up to adjust it. "If you gave a statement it'd satisfy them," she said simply, "like it or not, Magic-Man, you're a public figure and people care about your opinion－though I don't know why, you surly hermit."

I shrugged, checking my dress robes for lint. "I've been wondering why people put me on that pedestal since I was eleven so your guess is as good as mine."

"Remind me to ask the Justice League for a public relations person," she said, moving over to the full-length mirror in the corner of her bedroom to adjust her black, slinky knee-length dress that showed her slim body and gentle curves before grabbing her conical hat and setting it atop her head and adjusting the brim, "we need someone for the 'Pact in general and you in particular."

I moved behind her and laid a light kiss on her cheek. "Good idea," I murmured, "I'll put Detective Chimp on the hiring process. He needs something to do or he's going to relapse back into his alcoholism."

Eve snorted and grabbed my wrist, checking my watch. "We need to move or we'll be late."

I held in my sigh. "I'm ready. Got your pearls and handbag?"

The elbow buried into my gut doubled me over as Eve's hands emitted their dark power and a portal into the Realm of Nightshades opened before us.

-0-

Ever since the Spectre's rampage against all things magical and the formation of The Shadowpact, I had been working in the public eye as Magus, the leader of the team who beat him after the 'death' of Nightmaster and an adviser to the Justice League on all things spooky. With the damage to the flow of the Earth's magic, enchantments that relied upon the leylines of natural power that wrapped around the planet like a cocoon had started going 'wonky' as my best mate, Ron Weasley, had said. This had been bad as places like Diagon Alley had literally been ejected onto Charing Cross Road in London while the Ministry building itself had threatened to destroy Westminster from underneath Whitehall. Luckily that hadn't happened yet, with Unspeakables working night and day to study this new magical landscape and adjust the enchantments keeping things stable.

As it was, it had taken two weeks to settle the Alley back into place under a new set of space-expansion spells and set that chunk of Charing Cross Road to rights－all on the Ministry of Magic's coin, of course, the cost apparently so extreme that everyone from the interns to department heads had taken a pay cut for the next two years to balance the books.

Ron, as Head Auror, had his hands full policing the Wizarding World on a reduced budget while Hermione had been driving herself spare in her work liaising with different groups of magical 'creatures' like goblins and centaurs to keep the peace in her own way.

Historically, tumultuous times like these were when goblins were wont to rebel, something in their makeup urging them to strike while their opponent was weak.

The party had actually been Hermione's idea as a way to show that wizard-kind stood stronger than ever, which was why, for the first time in over six-hundred years, muggles and wizards would mix and socialize at the highest levels of society.

And as the one of the most high-profile wizards in the world my attendance was mandatory, according to my friends.

I knew that Hermione had worked with her brother in law, Percy Weasley, to ensure both muggle and magical press coverage, a fact that only increased my nerves.

Normally, Eve's portals were wonderful in that while it took 'time' for us to travel the Realm of Nightshades we disappeared and arrived at our locations near 'instantly'. However when you were trying to put something off, like a party you didn't want to be at, the lack of travel time was really annoying. As it was, Eve's portal spit us out at the gates of Buckingham Palace with no issue. Out of instinct, I checked for threats and muggles, my wand appearing in my hand from my new wrist-mounted holster before I remembered that memory charms were far less important nowadays with magic's unveiling.

With a gesture, my wand was sheathed and I noticed that the famous Queen's Guard watching us relaxed slightly, though their eyes followed each wizard and witch they could see from under their tall, furry hats.

It was apparent that magicals weren't the only ones struggling with things.

The thought was both distressing, and comforting and I could only hope that no one bumped the improperly mixed cauldron that was society.

We approached the gates and I handed over our VIP invitations and we were waved in and directed to a side entrance where we could be declared like we were a pair of nobles in King Henry's court or that one time I had been dragged to the Bones family Christmas ball.

How gross…

Hermione owed me big for this. I was all for fighting in the open to prove that wizard-kind weren't all evil storybook sorcerers and whatnot, but this whole situation had my teeth on edge.

We entered the palace and were escorted to an anteroom where we saw many other wizards and witches as well as prolific muggles I recognized from TV. They were mostly politicians but I also saw Gwenog Jones, the former Chaser and Captain of the all-witch Holyhead Harpies and now the coach for the England National Team along with Ginny Weasley, my former girlfriend and England's star Chaser…

Merlin preserve me.

I felt Eve stiffen beside me and I knew she had seen her as well.

I contemplated using magic to hide us, especially when Ginny turned, looked directly at us, and frowned heavily, but Gwenog pulled her along when they were called.

I rubbed Eve's forearm and she leaned into my side a bit. "Bitch," she grumbled, eyeing the door the pair had left through, "why is she here－is Gwenog gay?"

I snorted. "I'm sure it's platonic, Love. Gwenog is much older than Ginny. Besides, Ginny has never even hinted at being into women, although the thought of what went on in the Holyhead locker room had kept many a fan up at night, I'm sure."

Eve looked away, stifling her laugh. "Pig," she said.

I grinned. "I never said I had those thoughts. You shouldn't lump all men into one category. Sexism is never attractive."

"Oh no," said Eve, now openly chuckling, "you don't get to defend yourself－not after those magazines with the moving pictures I pulled out from under your bed."

I shot her a wounded look and she smirked.

"I was holding those for Rory!"

"Harry Potter and Eve Eden!"

Eve sighed and I offered her my forearm as we moved over to the entrance of the ballroom.

-0-

The ballroom had been obviously expanded magically, though I didn't really know what to make of it. Were the enchantments done by the Ministry or had the muggle government hired freelance wizards? On one hand it bode well for magical integration into normal society, but if there were any future conflicts the muggles having access to wizards would negate any fighting chance my people would have against the much more numerous muggles.

I shook my head slightly, trying to put such thoughts from my head for the night at least, though I resolved to discuss them with Kingsley, Hermione, and Ron when I could.

Bleh.

At the base of the stairs I shook hands with a few highly placed muggles in suits while their plus-ones made small talk with Eve, and I held in a grimace when they looked at my finely cut acromantula silk dress robes in barely masked confusion.

I knew I should've gotten a tux.

We made it through them, though, and I relaxed slightly when Eve gave my hand a squeeze. "Keep it up, Magic-Man," she said lowly, "two handshakes down and about four-hundred more to go."

Deep breaths, Harry.

-0-

We worked our way deeper into the party and I took in the decorations where I could pick up little touches that screamed Hermione's personal oversight. As it was, some of the tapestries hanging from the ceiling that detailed wizarding history in enchanted embroidery were on loan from Hogwarts and part of me wondered if Headmistress McGonagall was in attendance. Music flowed around us mixed in with the chatter of at least seven-hundred guests.

I hoped there would be no dancing. I had been terrible at the Yule Ball as a teenager and I would be just as bad now and I didn't think Eve would appreciate needing to ice her toes when we got back to her place later that night.

"Harry!"

Eve and I turned and saw Ron approaching. He was taller than I was at nearly five inches over six feet and his ginger hair was long and tied back in an aristocratic tail, much like the style his eldest brother preferred, while his dress robes were a coal gray with a long black cloak with silver fastenings. Over the years, Ron had come into his own and now looked like the leader of men he was supposed to be, considering that as the youngest Head Auror in the Ministry's history, Ron commanded nearly one-hundred and fifty of Great Britain's most accomplished magical warriors, a special forces company that could topple a government overnight and be back in time for breakfast.

He was also my best mate, which was far more important to me.

"Ron," I greeted, pulling him into a back-slapping half-hug, "how's everything?"

Ron turned and greeted Eve with a more subdued hug, smiling at her in that disarming way he naturally possessed. "Alright," he said, addressing us both, but I had known him since I was eleven and I could see the weariness in his light blue eyes and hear it in his voice, as his soft Devonshire burr was a bit more pronounced than usual.

I made a disbelieving noise and he grimaced.

"Really," he said, "it could've been far worse than it has been. The public has been great about toeing the Ministry's line since this all started. Hopefully this shindig Hermione and Percy threw together eases things even more."

"Yeah," I agreed, murmuring my thanks as Eve grabbed three flutes of champagne from a nearby waiter and passed them out, "I've been trying to help in the court of public opinion while helping the muggle heroes, as you know, but I'm just a single guy and I don't have my finger to the pulse of the people like the Ministry does so it's sometimes hard to tell what everyone thinks on a larger scale."

"People were bloody scared, mate," said Ron, taking a sip of champagne, and I had to grin when he made a face, knowing that Ron by far preferred dark beers served slightly below room temperature or Old Ogden's Firewhiskey straight. "I've had to up patrol frequency but we don't have the funds available to pay my Aurors to do it. They surprised me, though, by volunteering for it. The wizarding world seems to have pulled together. I know Percy's put together a report on things if you want to get more examples, and it does mention you a few times. Working to fight those two freaks a bit ago helped your public image as much as the War back when we were kids so when they see or hear about you in the news it raises morale."

I sighed, feeling my cheeks heat up and I took a sip of bubbly to cover it. "We both know how quickly the news can turn on us," I said, lowering my flute and trying to keep the bitterness from my tone.

Ron grimaced. "Yeah, but it helps when the government's press secretary is working in your favor and not actively trying to sabotage you."

I huffed a laugh. "I suppose."

"Where's Hermione," asked Eve suddenly, "I would've figured she'd be in the thick of things with you two."

"The thick of things?" asked Ron.

I rolled my eyes. "Eve is of the opinion that we can't get together without something horrible happening and that Hermione's been taking care of us for so long that she's developed a sixth sense about it."

Ron goggled for a moment before he laughed. "She's around here somewhere. She was talking with Kingsley and some big wig muggle politician last I saw her."

Eve smirked wagged a finger at him. "Don't let your boss or Kingsley hear you use the M-Word. It's not PC, you know."

Ron wrinkled his nose and I was wont to join him. Magicals had been calling muggles the 'M-Word' for over a thousand years. It wasn't something that was going to change in a few months because the BBC did an exposé on wizarding customs and someone on the internet found the term mildly insulting.

Besides, the new 'M-Word', Mundanes, seemed somehow even worse, but that was what the Justice League called non-enhanced people and that was what most civilians were used to.

"Speaking of your boss," I grinned, "we should go find Hermione."

The fact that Ron wanted make a rude gesture but couldn't, considering the setting, was like a balm to my soul.

-0-

Hermione was shaking hands with a woman in a smart pantsuit when we approached. She was wearing dress robes that looked almost like a muggle evening gown except for a few bits of flair that screamed wizarding fashion and I supposed that was just one more way that my muggleborn friend was trying to bridge the gap between magic and mundane.

"Hello, Darling," whispered Ron, leaning in to speak into his wife's ear before he nodded towards us, "look who's shown up."

Hermione glanced towards us and smiled before she directed the woman's attention our way. "Ms. Lane, I would like to introduce you to Ronald, my husband and our good friends, Harry Potter and Eve Eden."

The woman looked us up and down and I noted a sharp intelligence in her eyes that rivaled Hermione's as well as a cunning that set off alarm bells in my head.

Oh shit, she was a reporter.

I repressed my shudder as Ron greeted her before I shook her hand, Eve following along moments later

"Ron is the Head of the Ministry of Magic's Auror Force," said Hermione and even when she was trying to appear professional it was clear the amount of pride she held for her husband, and considering Ron's back noticeably straightened it was clear just how much her pride meant to him.

Ah my dorky, adorable best friends.

Lane pulled a small notebook from her suit jacket as well as a pen. "An Auror is like the Magical Police force, yes?"

Hermione smiled. "More like a Mundane commando unit mixed with Scotland Yard. The Ministry employs law enforcement officers but Aurors rank higher and are better trained. An Auror will act as a small unit leader for normal law enforcement teams as well as plan and execute secret missions in high-profile cases."

"Impressive," said Lane.

Hermione smiled. "Harry, however, doesn't work for the Ministry, per se," she said, "but he advises the Minister and acts in our best interests as a free lancer."

Lane raised an eyebrow and eyed me up more thoroughly.

"The specifics of which are, regrettably, classified," I said affecting my most contrite smile.

Apparently, it hadn't been contrite enough as Hermione shot me an intense look from behind Lois Lane.

"I can say that I work deeply within the ICW in a role similar to an Auror," I said, "but I am literally compelled through powerful magic to keep my silence about anything else."

Of course, I had broken those compulsions ages ago with a lovely bit of magic called the Litany of Adralla that nicely countered 'control' effects but no one needed to know that.

"Eve," said Hermione, a question for my girlfriend in her eyes, "works…"

"For the American government," interrupted Eve smoothly, "and like Harry, the specifics are very classified."

Lois smiled as if butter would not melt in her mouth. "So I'm surrounded by war heroes and super magical spies?"

I stiffened, and next to me I could feel Eve doing so as well.

"W-well, some people have called Harry a Hero for his efforts in the last Wizarding War against the Dark Lord Voldemort," hedged Hermione.

"But it's bupkis," I said, "loads of wizards and witches fought against Voldemort. I just got lucky enough to finish him off at the end of things."

Lane raised an eyebrow. "You know, to the best of my knowledge, this relatively recent wizarding conflict hasn't been covered by any reputable news outlet. Would you all be willing to answer a few questions later?"

"Of course so long as I can get a list of questions you want to ask ahead of time," said Hermione, doing her level best to appear warm and inviting but to me her stiffness was apparent, "I'll have my secretary set something up if you leave me your contact information. How long will you be in England?"

"I'll be flying out in two days," said Lane, handing Hermione a business card.

"Wonderful," smiled Hermione, stuffing the slip of card stock into her handbag.

Lane nodded, made excuses, and left to go talk to another guest.

I breathed a sigh of relief.

"Does she know?" asked Ron lowly, and I felt Hermione's magic settle around us as she discreetly cast a privacy spell.

I shrugged. "She might. Back during the Spectre thing I didn't have a costume and I appeared in Metropolis along with the rest of the Shadowpact and considering Eve's uniquely pale skin tone and hair…"

"It wouldn't take much to piece it all together and from what I know Lane covers a lot of Superman stuff and other Meta-human articles," continued Eve.

"Bloody hell," muttered Ron, shaking his head, "how is your costume, by the way? I can get more of that material from the Department of Mysteries if you need Fred and George to make alterations."

I grinned. "Works great, though I haven't taken it into live combat, yet－only sparing amongst the 'Pact so far."

"Makes your ass look good, too," snarked Eve, smirking as Ron laughed and Hermione giggled, "I spent an hour bouncing quarters off of it."

I shook my head, my cheeks red, and I looked skywards for help from the Higher Authority.

I received nothing.

Figures.

Suddenly, I felt something splash against my magical senses and I frowned, tuning out my friends and girlfriend.

My eyes widened.

"Get down!" I yelled, knocking the three of them to the floor and using my wand to cover us in a thick shield as an explosion washed over us, my ears popping as some strange magic managed to strip away most of the power in my spell.

Luckily the charm barely held and I looked up to see a room of panicking people as well as unmoving party-goers laying on the ground. Dust hung in the air and my magical senses were going haywire.

I shook my head and rolled off of my friends with a harsh scowl, my off-hand aglow with eldritch energies as I stood, followed by Eve and Ron, the man helping Hermione to her feet even as he drew his own pale willow-wood wand from a sheath at his waist.

He was yelling something but it was muted underneath the hollow ringing in my ears and I had to bring my wand to my ears and mutter a healing spell to return my hearing.

"－ing Hell, what's happening?"

"We're under attack!"

I heard sharp popping sounds as gunfire erupted into the crowd from a new hole in the wall and a red-robed Auror threw up a shield to stop the bullets, which should've worked but the spell lasted only long enough to neutralize a few rounds, the rest of the hail shredding the man into gory ribbons even as the crowd of attendees were trampling each other to get away, many dying or falling to the floor injured.

"Shields," yelled Ron, trying to rally his Aurors who were apparating in only to immediately duck for what little cover was available as he pushed Hermione behind himself and armed men wearing military-like gear stormed though the hole in the wall.

"Ron they can cancel magic, somehow!" I shouted, jabbing my wand into the floor, the tip sinking in as though the tile were made of water. "Transfigure physical barriers!"

I didn't have time to use a proper spell, but adrenaline and sheer power brute-forced the proper effect and a fifty foot long, chest-high wall of three foot thick stone burst upwards, intercepting more shots.

All over the ballroom Aurors were copying the move with some taking the opportunity to fire back upon the men with guns, but the jets of light their spells produced washed off their bodies like water off a freshly waxed car bonnet and I threw myself against the stone wall. I waved my wand and conjured a wave of daggers, which floated before me, and with a sharp jerk I sent them flying over the wall, smiling grimly when I heard several of the attackers cry out in pain.

"Now would be a good time to change into your working clothes, Magus," said Eve, and I looked over to see her ripping her dress from her body, leaving her in just her lingerie but before I could say anything she wrapped herself in her Darkstuff, producing an impromptu form-fitted armor, including a mask.

I nodded and vanished my robes, leaving me in my boxer shorts, and brought up my wrist, fiddling with my watch before pressing a button as a streams of black material flowed out and covered nearly my entire body like a layer of ink, leaving only my head free. I channeled a bit of magical energy through the suit itself and runes and mystical sigils glowing the the same purple as my eldritch powers burst into life along my collar and chest as well as my forearms and shins.

My heroing costume was made of a new material produced in small quantities by the Department of Mysteries that had an extreme natural durability, despite being so thin, high flexibility, and was self-repairing. It also took enchantments well, the runes that tied mine and Hermione's spell-work to the suit were as strong as I had ever seen increasing the material's attributes several times as well as adding a few extras.

The costume was, in essence, a suit of magical super armor, greater than the finest dragon hide, and there was only one of them in existence.

I took a large piece of Nightshade's former dress and transfigured it into a long strip of black fabric, throwing it over my head and wrapping it around my shoulders to hang down my back in long, twin tails, forming a hood of sorts. Then I waved my wand over my face and used a spell to obscure my identity, much like I had used before at the tail end of the Spectre's rampage.

I turned to Ron, who was arguing with Hermione, trying to get her to leave while the walls were blocking the attackers peppering them with gunfire.

I scowled and grabbed another chunk of dress, tapped it with my wand behind Hermione's back, and incanted, "Portus," the dress fabric glowed blue and I tossed it over my stubborn friend's head, muttering the activation phrase and watching as she disappeared off to her and Ron's home in Oxford in a swirl of colored lights.

Ron gaped at me for a second before he squared his shoulders and moved off to rally his men.

Hermione would kill me later, but I was okay with that－I'd watch the kids for a weekend and let her and Ron have some private time or something to make up for it.

I turned to Nightshade and she nodded, Darkstuff forming around her palms, and together we leaped over the wall and into the fray.