While the fight in Gotham was going on, Harry Potter was sleeping in his bed at Number 4 Pivet Drive. It was an uneasy sleep. Like every night he relived again and again how Wormtail had killed Cedric, how Voldemort had risen from the dead, and how he barely escaped him once again. But then, out of nowhere, a jolt of pain and anger flooded through Harry. He didn't know what it was or meant, but suddenly he sat upright in his bed. His scar burnt. Somehow he once again felt like he had a connection to Voldemort. And Voldemort was angry. At what he didn't know, but the longer the feeling lingered, the hotter became the pain, the more obvious it became that Voldemort, right now, was going towards reaching a for Harry unknown level of blind rage. It began to hurt so much that Harry nearly began to cry, and then, out of nowhere, the pain was gone. Harry fell down on his bed again, trying to fall asleep once more, but the sleep didn't wanna come. It didn't help that it was still midsummer and that the sun was about to come out soon. After rolling around in his bed for several minutes, Harry finally decided to get up. He walked over to his window and looked outside on the street. Was Voldemort near? Were his Death Eaters? Harry had asked himself these questions for over four weeks now, since he had been back with the Dursleys. He had tried to get information about what was going on in the wizarding world from nearly everybody by now, but nobody seemed to be willing to give him a straight answer. Frustrated Harry continued to stare out of the window, not knowing that Voldemort had just made a very powerful and resourceful enemy, who he would underrate even more than he did Harry.

Back in Gotham City, some time had pasted since the confrontation in the museum. Batman and Robin were just returning to the Batcave, where Alfred was already waiting for them. "I've copied and downloaded the recordings of the security cameras of the museum as you wanted, Master Bruce," he told them as they left their vehicles.

"Thank you Alfred," replied Bruce, while taking of his mask. He then approached the Batcomputer and started playing the recording of what happened at room 3 of the 6th floor.

Alfred was especially surprised about what he saw, since Tim had already seen some the tricks the theft had up his sleeve. "Very unusual," he remarked.

"Very unusual indeed," agreed Bruce. "I haven't seen anything like this in quiet awhile."

This comment took Tim aback. "Moment, does that mean, you've seen people like this before," he unbelievingly asked his mentor while pointing at the noseless freak on the computer monitor.

"Not like this, no," Bruce admitted before going silent and simply staring at the screen until the recording was over. "I need a analogue copy of this," he told Alfred, who bowed and immediately began working on it. Bruce then turned to his protégé. "Go to bed, Tim," he told him. Tim was about to protest but Bruce held up his right hand to stop him. "I know what you are going to say, but I promise I'll explain everything in the morning," he said just as Alfred approached him with a disk in his hand.

"The copy, Master Wayne," he said, pointing out the obvious.

"Thank you," replied Bruce once again, like he had to do so often with his ever faithful butler. He then turned back to the teenager next to him. "'til later," he said, before ordering Alfred to make sure that Tim would go to bed.

"Where are you going," Tim called after the man who basically had become his father.

"Following up on a lead," was the only answer he got.

Tim wanted to ask another question, but he didn't got the chance. Bruce had already put his Batman mask back on, climbed into the Batmobil and closed the door. "I wanna come too," he said more to himself than to anybody else. Bruce started the engines of the Batmobil and drove out of the cave at once. Tim looked longingly after him. "It's not fair," he said to Alfred.

"It rarely is, Master Drake," the butler replied. "Now, we should go upstairs."

"Why?"

"Because there's nothing we can do down here," Alfred reasoned. "And I wanna go to bed," he then added while going up the stairs to Wayne Manor.

"But I don't wanna go to bed," Tim countered in a smug way, which was a little bit too smug for Alfred's liking.

The butler turned around on the stairs, staring at the young man still standing in the cave. Sometimes he reminded him of a young Bruce, which filled Alfred's heart with warmth, but in moments like this, he reminded him more of young master Grayson, which wasn't necessarily a bad thing since Alfred and the young Dick also had a pretty good relationship with one another, but they never had and never would form such a strong relationship as the old butler had with his actual employer. Also, Alfred remembered, that Dick was responsible for way more headaches than Bruce had been when he had been a teenager.

He shook his head and rolled his eyes. "If you wanna stay here, fine, but the TV is still standing upstairs," were Alfred's last comments before finally ascending the staircase.

Tim wanted to reply with something clever, but he couldn't really think of anything. After continuing to stand in the cave for a few minutes, he finally decided to change into his normal clothes and to go upstairs as well. He hated to admit it, but Alfred had been right – the TV sets were all upstairs. And the best one was to be found in the living room. Tim had no idea if he was going to watch a video or the normal programme, but he knew that he wouldn't really be able to sleep until he got some answers. So he saddled down on the big couch in the centre of the room and turned on the television, flipping through the channels, hoping to find something that could keep his attention until Bruce came back from wherever he had gone.

It didn't even take an hour for Batman to travel from Gotham to his destination: An old apartment building at the Broadway in Camden, very close to the border of New Jersey with Philadelphia. He entered the apartment of his informant through the previously closed bedroom window, just fast enough in order for Elli McCoy to be woken up by the breeze coming into her room.

Elli was a woman in her early 40s, but she looked as if she was about ten years younger. She had long brown-blond hair, green eyes and a nice tan, at least in that very moment. Startled by the sudden breeze, she sat up, got out her wand and used it to close her window, before muttering "lumos". Looking around in her room, it took her awhile until she discovered Batman. "You," she annoyingly moaned. "I had hoped not to have to see you again."

"I know," Batman replied in his signature deep voice. "I need information from you."

Elli raised one of her eyebrows in a sarcastic manner, before asking; "When did you ever come to me out of another reason?" Batman didn't react, he just continue to stand like a statue in the back corner of her room, causing Elli to roll her eyes and finally getting up. "Okay, what do you want to know?"

Batman got out the tape that Alfred made for him. "I need to know who the man on the tape is," he said. "He broke into the Gotham Museum of Antiquities a few hours ago and stole an antic vase from ancient Greek, dated to the later years of the younger half of the ninth century before Christ," he explained while handing the tape over to Elli.

"Why come to me with this?"

"Because the man had a wand and could apparate. Last time I checked, only wizards could do that," answered Batman in a matter-of-fact tone.

Elli had nothing to argue against, since everything Batman had said, was true. "Anything that might help me identify him?"

"He had a British accent and a face like a snake," was the reply and shock was written all over Elli's face at once. "What is it," Batman asked, concerned.

Elli manage to collect herself pretty quickly, considering the shock she just went through. "Nothing, it's nothing really. The description would only fit a criminal that died fourteen years ago," she explained.

Batman fixated her with a piercing look through his goggle-lenses. And like always, somehow, the person opposite knew and felt it, even though they could never see the eyes. Elli had to swallow hard, but she managed to keep her composure despite Batman's icy stare. "Okay," he finally said. "I'll be back tomorrow." And with those words he was gone, leaving Elli alone to pander her thoughts.

When Tim woke up the next morning he wasn't laying on the couch in the living room anymore, the last place he could remember being, but instead he lay in his way more comfortable king-sized bed. He tried to figure out how he got there, concluding that the only reasonable explanation was, that he had fallen asleep in the living room, against his own will and prediction, and had then been carried upstairs by Bruce after he had gotten home.

A bit mad with himself for not managing to stay awake and with Bruce for not waking him up, Tim got out of bed and dozily walked into his bathroom in order to start his morning routine to get fresh for the upcoming day. When he went downstairs to the dining room, he could already hear Bruce and Alfred while he was still on the staircase. Like every morning Bruce wanted to convince Alfred to take break from pampering him and instead eat and drink something by himself.

"Alfred, I got this," Bruce argued, taking a plate right out of his butler's hands and put it down on the table before him. "You outdid yourself once again with this breakfast," he added as a compliment, which was followed by a tight "thank you" by Alfred. "Now, why don't you sit down and eat yourself before Tim comes...," Bruce stopped himself, sensing Tim's presence. "Too late," he then said with a lazy smile and looked up through the doorway into the entrance hall, where Tim was still standing on the staircase. "Care to join us," Bruce shouted out, before turning back to his breakfast.

Tim continued his way downstairs and entered the dinning room. "Morning," he greeted the two older men.

"What can I offer you, Master Drake," Alfred asked dutifully.

"Just some crispy toast with some bacon and a soda please," answered Tim before sitting down next to Bruce, looking at this mentor with a questioning look on his face. Bruce seemed to ignore him and instead continued reading his newspaper and eating his breakfast. After Alfred had served Tim his meal, the butler excused himself and left the dinning room. Tim continued to stare at his foster father, hoping for a reaction.

It took minutes till he finally got one. "What do you think he was," Bruce asked his roughly twenty years younger protégé.

"I don't know," Tim answered hesitantly. "A freak, that's for sure."

Bruce give a brief nod in agreement. "He certainly is," he mumbled in agreement, before finally laying down his newspaper and setting aside his cup of morning coffee, finally looking directly at Tim. "Would you believe if I told you, that magic is a real thing," he asked.

Tim's eyes widened, his mouth fell open and his facial expressions screamed "you gotta be kidding me" at first, but then he managed to regain his composer and reminded himself of the fact, that there were many strang things and people living in Gotham. Hell he had already met an alien who had nearly god-like powers and a demi-goddess who claimed to be the daughter of Zeus, so maybe the revelation that magic and wizards were real things shouldn't have come as such a surprise to Tim. "So, the man was a wizard," he finally asked.

Bruce nodded. "I think so. He used a wand and could apparate," he explained.

"Apparate?"

"Apparation is a meaning of magical travelling. A skilled wizard can, by sheer willpower, teleport himself from one place to another. Only that I've never seen it happen without a sound nor being conducted in an closed space. According to my knowledge the latter is supposed to be extremely dangerous."

"So, what do you reckon," Tim wanted to know.

Bruce slightly raised his eyebrows and broke eye contact as if he wanted to say "I don't know", but he answered anyway. "That whoever he was, he's a very powerful wizard. And a dangerous one as well."

"You don't have to tell me that he's dangerous," Tim snarled, finally turning his attention to his breakfast.

Bruce shook his head. "He isn't just dangerous because he's powerful," he said, causing Tim to look up again, even though Bruce was staring at the table in front of him. "My informant got scared, really scared, when I mentioned that he was probably from England and had the face of a snake," he explained, looking up at Tim again.

"Why?"

Bruce shrugged. "I have no idea. But whoever he is, he's dangerous, really dangerous," he repeated.

The two then finished their breakfast in silence. Once they were finished they put away their dishes for Alfred to clean up later. Afterwards Bruce went upstairs again to make himself ready for work. While he as owner and president of Wayne Enterprises didn't actually had anything to do at his own company, since Lucius Fox was running everything as chairman and CEO, but Bruce always claimed that his daily presence showed at least some dedication of him to his family's company.

"I'm going to meet Diana for lunch. Maybe she can tell me something about the vase," he told Tim and Alfred as he left the house, leaving the two to themselves.

After they heard the garage gate close, Tim turned to Alfred. "You still owe me a revenge in Destruction Derby," he teased.

Alfred raised his eyebrows in a snobby fashion. "As you wish, Master Drake," he replied with a drooling voice. "But don't complain when you lose again," he added and confidently strode past the younger man toward the living room, leaving behind an open-mouthed Tim.

After several remarkably boring conversations and meetings with board members and even more boring and annoying phone conferences with some stock holders, Bruce was more than happy to leave Wayne Tower and to meet Diana in a lovely little café not that far away from there at midday. Diana was already waiting for him there when he finally showed up. They greeted each other with an embrace and pecks on their cheeks before sitting down. "Hard day at the office," quipped Diana, noticing Bruce's boring and nerved attitude.

Bruce let out a small laugh. "Yeah, this is the highlight of my day up until now, so thanks for coming."

"No problem," Diana replied smiling. "You said something about a Greek vase?"

Bruce nodded and got out a picture of the stolen vase. Diana's face was branded with shock. "So you do know it then," he deduced.

The Amazonian princess nodded numbly. Diana had the feeling that her stomach had just turned upside down. This couldn't be true. "When was this photo taken?"

"A few weeks ago, before the exhibition about the Greek Dark Ages started."

"And where is the vase now?"

Bruce noticed that Diana's voice sounded agitated and that she somehow didn't manage to get back into her normally very controlled and clam public persona. "I don't know," he admitted, causing Diana to stare at him with an completely empty expression of shock in her eyes. "It got stolen last night. I nearly got the thief, but he managed to escape."

"How," breathed Diana, still in shock.

"It was a wizard," was Bruce's simple answer.

Diana wanted to say something about this remark, but then the waitress approached them to take their orders. After they ordered their meals and drinks and having nobody in direct hearing range anymore, they continued their conversation in hushed voices. "Okay, what do you know about this wizard," asked Diana.

"Nothing, besides the fact, that he's from England due to his accent," explained Bruce.

"That's not much to go on," Diana stated.

Bruce nodded. "I already asked for help from somebody working for the American Department of Magic..."

He didn't manage to say more, since Diana interrupted him. "The what," she asked a little too loud for Bruce's liking.

"I always thought you might know more about the magical world than I do," Bruce observed. "Nice to see that I was wrong," he then added with a smile.

Diana gave him a wicked glare as a response. "Only because I'm an Amazon doesn't mean I know everything about the world of magic, especially outside of my home, since I only lived in the non-magical side of the mortal world for the last 50 years," she explained.

Bruce held up both of hands in defensive position. "Hey, hey, don't be angry with me," he joked. "Anyway, I hope that I'll know whoever the thief was in a few hours." Silence. Bruce tried to get Diana to explain her previous outburst of shock with the help of an interrogating glare, but Diana on the other hand didn't want to give him the satisfaction of breaking and simply telling him – she wanted him to actually ask. But before it could come to it, their drinks arrived. They thanked the waitress and Bruce waited until she was gone, to finally ask the question burning the most on his mind in the moment. "What is the secret of this vase?"

Diana averted her eyes and began to stare at the ground, thinking about how to explain it. "It's a powerful artefact – created by Athena about 3,000 years ago to imprison a demon that escaped from the Hades, whose master wasn't able or willing to recapture at the time," she explained, looking back up again.

"So the demon is imprisoned in the vase?"

Diana shook her head. "No... Not really, no," she answered slowly. "I mean the demon's soul was split and entrapped in two different, nearly identical vases," she began explaining.

"And let me guess; if these two vases are brought together the demon will be released," Bruce finished, causing Diana to nod. "How powerful was this demon?"

Diana shrugged. "Back then I was still living on..." she had to stop once more, since their food was arriving. Once it had all been put in place and the waitress was gone again, she continued; "Well, I was still living on Themyscira and didn't know what was really going on in the outside world, besides whatever rumours got to our little island via the world of the gods. So I don't really know how powerful his demon was, but if Athena had to step in and lay a trap, that must mean it's extremely powerful."

"In other words, we should do everything we can do to keep the other vase out of the theft's hands," Bruce concluded.

His opposite nodded. "And we should try to get the other one back as well."

"I know, and I'm already on that one," Bruce argued before taking a sip of his drink. "And I hope you are going to try to locate the other vase, making sure it is safe," he then added.

"I think, I should help you with finding this vase," Diana tried to argue, but Bruce shook his head.

"No, it would be best if we split the resources. One vase was already stolen and we can't risk the other one landing in the same hands as well. And I think, you would be better suited finding the other vase than I am."

"Oh, has the great detective just admitted that he might couldn't solve a mystery," Diana teased, bringing a bit humour into their dry and serious conversation.

Bruce smiled. "Maybe," was all he said, before he began eating. For the rest of their lunch they talked about other things like business and their personal lives, taking their minds off the case for now. But the meeting had given Bruce enough to think about for the rest of the day.