Harry Potter the Spider-Man Burglar.

Spider-Man's robberies.

Underneath his mask, Harry was torn between anger, envy, and impatience.

Anger because his time was being wasted; the people in this house were slowing him down which only served to make him as impatient as he was angry, making him think, perhaps, he should be changing his MO when it came to robbery. Envy because this family had two children, the mother was in tears with her arms wrapped tightly around her two children while Harry covered them with the gun he had acquired from a gun club.

At first, the family had not really taken him seriously when he had broken into their home until he had fired a few bullet holes into the wall, and had carefully fired a shot, grazing the father's right arm.

Yeah, he really did need to change his MO.

Gun crime was not really his thing, it just caused more trouble than it was worth.

"I am really starting to lose my patience with you," he snapped under his mask, gazing at the father while he covered the family threateningly; from where he was standing he was able to cover them while speaking to the so-called man of the house, and keep out of arms reach. "Give me what I want."

"Why are you doing this?" Harry closed his eyes for a moment when he heard the father try to play for time; he had done this three times already, and each time Harry had been dangerously pushed to the edge. Why couldn't this idiot just do as he was told when he knew he had a very angry robber in his midst?

When he had come up with the plan to change his MO since he had gotten tired of being a burglar, Harry had opted to go into armed robbery/home invasion. It had seemed like a good idea at the time, but since this was still the early days of his changeover, Harry was willing to be optimistic. But he wouldn't be optimistic for long if there were situations like this. And it had started out so well, too; not only had he managed to fight his way inside this house, taking the family inside hostage which wasn't hard. All he'd needed to do was to just simply point the gun he'd stolen a few days ago at them and prove it was genuine, and as soon as they realised he was serious about what he planned to do, they should have given him what he'd wanted and he'd be out of that door with no doubt in his head they'd be on to the Old Bill.

At least that was what he had thought would happen when he first rang the bell and forced his way inside.

Why did this idiot not see he was serious?

What was the point of the idiot/father/husband digging in his heels while he knew there was a robber with a gun right in front of him? Surely he was taking this seriously?

Apparently not. It seemed this idiot had a death wish, and every second he wasted while his family looked on - the wife/mother (he wished he had a better name for the woman and her idiot husband) looked at her hubby with annoyance. It looked like his antics were driving her insane as well as scaring her and the kids.

"You're just a kid, why are you-?" The father suddenly screamed in pain as Harry shot him twice in the left leg out of rage and impatience, sending the man to the ground where he clapped his hand to the wound; blood started to well up in the wound while he applied pressure to the gunshot while his horrified and stunned family looked on; clearly and somehow beyond Harry's comprehension, they had assumed he was only threatening them, somehow they had gotten the impression he would not actually shoot them.

Well, he had just proven them wrong although how they'd gotten that thought in their heads while he had been threatening them with a real-life gun, he did not know and frankly did not care. All he was right now was impatient and angry; he had been in this house for too long, and someone was bound to have heard those screams unless the neighbours living nearby were as oblivious and as stupid as the ones on Privet Drive.

Harry gazed at them in annoyance - his mask stopped his features from being seen, so they couldn't see the anger in his eyes, but they could hear it in his voice - and he wondered if the husband/father/idiot/breadwinner (?) realised this could have been avoided if he had been brighter, but he doubted it. The husband had proven he was not highly gifted with intellect when he had started off trying to plea with an armed robber.

"Don't presume to tell me you know about my age; it's irrelevant. But in answer to your question… everyone's got to make a living, my way is more fun than most. Now, give me what I want, or I begin shooting your family," Harry hissed, knowing that to them, even with his voice muffled by his mask, they would have a good idea that he was a kid, and only just slightly older than the kids in this family.

The threat seemed to have worked. The man's pale and shocked face brought about by the unexpected gunshot suddenly became more pallid if it was possible due to the threat.

"N-no," he gasped through the pain, and he staggered to his feet, wincing and hissing with the effort and the pain of his injuries, "it's okay. I'll get what you want…"

Harry narrowed his eyes. "Fine, but I'm coming with you. I don't trust you enough not to make some stupid mistake which might get you killed."

Before he followed the father, he went over to the telephone after seeing the way the wife and mother of this little family had been eying it and slowly edging their way closer to it slowly but he had seen it, and he tore its cable out and he picked the whole thing up and threw it into the fireplace where it smashed into pieces of plastic and electronic circuits.

"Move," Harry instructed.

The father hobbled his way out of the sitting room and into an office while Harry stood back and watched as he emptied the draws of any money. More than once, Harry watched as the adult eyed the second phone in the room, but Harry let him do it. In a few moments, he would be out of this house. But when he left and returned home, he would rethink his current robbing strategy. If he was going to be forced to remain in a single place for such a length of time then he would need something better without needing to waste his time threatening others.

Harry watched as the father made another subtle glance at the phone, and he mentally considered what he could do about it. From where he was standing in the room, the patriarch of this family was quite close to the phone but Harry had positioned himself in a good place in the office where he could see the corridor and still have enough of a view to keep the father underwater.

"Don't even think about it," Harry snapped when he caught the patriarch moving subtly - or what he believed was a subtle way - towards the phone. "Wait until I'm gone."

"Why are you doing this?"

"This again?" Harry sneered under his mask. "Do you really think I care about what you think? I'm doing what you're doing in here," he waved a hand to encompass the office, "making a living to support myself. I'm just more…direct about it."

"But what about your family, are they forcing you into this-?'

That was it.

Harry snapped. He fired the gun madly at the walls, making the man cry and jump out of the way when small showers of plaster exploded out of the wall. "I have no family!" Harry shouted before he took a deep breath and calmed him quickly. "Just give me the money," he went on in a tightly controlled voice, determined to go back home and take a good, hard and long view at his tactics. This simply was not working. He was taking too long, and there was nothing to stop the cunts downstairs going out and raising the alarm, making escape impossible.

Frightened and now realising what he was dealing with, the man hurriedly gave him the money. "Take it! Take it!"

Harry snatched it gladly. "Go out first."

They had barely made it out when Harry stopped, his ears catching something from downstairs. "What was that?"

"What was what?" The man countered.

Harry growled and kicked him violently in the wound, making him cry out and collapse to the ground. "You are in no position to play games with me, but its all you've done for the past hour, and I'm tired of it! What has your wife doing?"

The man was huddled on the ground, clutching his wound and had his eyes closed. "I don't know," he whispered hoarsely.

Harry believed him. He had made sure to take the father out of the room, and now it seemed that was his biggest mistake. He should have made sure the family couldn't have done anything. He heard another sound; it sounded like a door being opened and people whispering downstairs. Harry closed his eyes as he considered his options.

He knew he could fight his way out, but he had a finite amount of ammunition and he couldn't keep up a fight for long. Even worse, just because he had destroyed the phone downstairs did not mean the neighbours wouldn't have the means of calling the police, and… oh, great, the police were coming. He could hear their sirens in the distance. Damn.

But… there was a way out.

Harry looked down at the man, and he hissed with anger. This damn family had held him back, they had kept him here for an hour, and now because of his lack of experience as a robber, he could very well be caught.

Except he wasn't a normal robber.

Still hissing with anger, Harry rushed back into the office, quickly closing and locking the door, and he ran to the window and he began to examine it. The window of the office was fortunately large enough for what he wanted to do, but it was blocked off by a desk. He grabbed the desk and with a burst of anger augmented magical strength, he hurled it aside and Harry got to the window. Harry waved his hand over the window, using his magic to manipulate the lock and he had the window open in a second. Harry quickly jumped onto the window ledge and looked down. It was a sheer wall right underneath the window, but it was good enough for his purposes.

Calling upon his magic and moving with practiced ease, Harry gently pressed the palms of his hands against the wall and he grinned when he felt the sticking charms take hold - he had been doing this for a long time, practicing his moves for a long time, but he still felt a jolt of excitement go through him each time he did climb walls. But ever since he had gained access to magical knowledge from Diagon Alley and he had discovered a number of spells that could do the same job, only better, as well as a spell specifically designed to allow for wall-crawling and was much better than the spell he had originally used on instinct in the past and was several times more versatile, Harry's excitement had definitely stepped up a notch. Once he was out of the window with his hands and feet adhered to the walls, Harry climbed down as fast as he could; there was little doubt in his head the stupid fool he had left huddled in that corridor outside the office would have told whoever was inside the house by now where he was, and they'd have likely gone around the house to where he was.

When he got to the bottom of the wall, Harry jogged as fast as he could away from the house across the garden towards the back fence. He was relieved he had done his research before he had gone into this robbery, it was about the only good thing that had happened. From behind, Harry could hear the sounds of people shouting, but as he snuck away and he found a quiet place he quickly cast a notice-me-not spell wandlessly before he slipped off his mask and he headed home.

Overall, he mused, aside from the stupid family constantly slowing him down, the robbery had gone according to plan. He would need to change his approach.

X

Detective Inspector Bill Craddock sighed as he half sat on a desk and studied the wall dominated by photographs and sheets of paper containing crime scene reports and witness statements. For the past two months, a robber had begun invading homes everywhere in London. On the first robbery, he had forced a family to give over their money and whatever else he felt he could sell at gunpoint. But then he had changed his MO. He had begun to knock on unsuspecting victims doors. They opened their front doors, and he slapped something to their faces to make them fall asleep. Once they were overpowered, the robber would then be free to rob the house.

Occasionally he would encounter some house which was inhabited by more than one person, but Craddock had come to see this robber did not have a problem although once or twice there were signs of violent fights, and the witness statements reported a violet incident where the robber rushed at them to make them fall asleep.

Usually, Craddock and some of the other senior inspectors would wait for a robber to commit a home invasion and they'd hopefully find they'd made a mistake which would make it easier to find; a broken window with glass scattered everywhere with a trace of blood so forensics could better find their DNA, showing their face and making it easy for the police to identify them, or something like that. But Craddock was starting to lose hope with this one, but he remained optimistic they'd find something.

The robberies first began when a family found themselves held at gunpoint by what appeared to be a kid. Craddock had no idea how a child got hold of a gun and was serious enough to use it as an adult robber would, but it made the situation more dangerous. And then the new home invasions started. At the time Craddock and his team had merely expected the two robberies to be different. But then they had found CCTV evidence thanks to a set of cameras trained on that area, and they had seen a small individual with a hood up; cameras closer had made it clear it was a kid, and Inspector Craddock had reached out to Michael Mckenzie, the original victim of the robbery where he was injured. Craddock had brought Mckenzie into the station to take a look at the footage to see if the kid who'd walked down the street to the second victims' home was identical to the one who'd broken into his house - it was hard for Mckenzie to make a positive ID check with the hood up, but he had positively identified the kid moved, by his posture alone.

Yes, Craddock knew it was slim to depend on that, but in truth, the news gave him something to go on.

But what did they really know about this burglar?

For a start, the robber was a kid and it was a boy, and according to Mckenzie, he was very touchy about family. That opened a lot of possibilities into looking into his past; he could be an orphan or a runaway who had gotten tired of his family who had abused him? Craddock did not know, but he'd been a copper long enough to know it was no good coming up with speculations without more facts. He was armed, resourceful enough to put people to sleep. He was fast, he was capable of getting in and out of places without trouble. On the subject of the first robbery, Craddock could see the kid was intelligent; Mckenzie's statement and that of his wife had told of a robber who'd been pressed for time, and yet instead of just doing what any sane person would have done, the Mckenzie's had slowed him down, antagonised him which was stupid in itself since the kid was armed. The kid had changed his approach, seeing it was useless and he had gone for an approach that was more faster and did not involve interacting with people full stop.

Most robbers who got a taste for the thrill usually went out every day to commit their crimes, but not this kid. No, he usually left the thefts a good week or two apart before he did it again. He was smart; Craddock knew this robber was intelligent enough to see his former MO was awful so he changed it, and he had a feeling that same intelligence was being put on display once more. The robber knew if he carried out home invasions every single day, he was bound to make a stupid mistake.

Anyway, the robber had struck again last night; same MO and if there was one thing Craddock had made sure his superiors and colleagues never did was speak to the press about how the robber worked in case a copycat started up. As he thought about that, Craddock wondered if perhaps they should release the information, just so then they could see what the original robber did, but he knew it was not worth the risk.

"Bill."

Craddock turned and he twisted around and mentally sighed when he saw Simon Patterson, his super. "Hi, Simon."

Simon nodded, his eyes darting between the DI and the board. "Any luck?" He asked.

Craddock shook his head. "He struck again last night. But now he'd have gone to ground," he twisted around, wincing at the feeling in his back.

Simon walked over and sat down next to him. "The Commissioner's under heavy pressure to stop these crimes, Bill," he said bluntly but tactfully, something Craddock was grateful for; if there was one thing he was grateful for, it was having Simon Patterson as a Super, the others were political bastards who were blind to everything but targets and politics. "And he's putting pressure on me."

"I hope you're not gonna put pressure on me, Simon, because I'm not in the mood," Craddock twisted his head around to look his friend square in the face. "I've been trying to find this robber for the last two months. In any case, what can I do? Look, this kid leaves no forensic which is bad enough, and aside from one or two shots from CCTV dotted around different places, including inside the houses he breaks in and out, he isn't too fussy about anyone knowing about his age since he's always masked. He also hasn't sold anything from his robberies, and aside from the first break-in, he concentrates on cash. Somehow he knows where his victims hide it. One of the victims had hidden his money behind a number of books on a shelf, and it was the only place he looked."

Patterson listened. He had gone over all of this with the Commissioner, who understood the problems only too well, but the pressure was beginning to mount up. Oh, that reminded him… "Oh yeah, I've just remembered something, and you're not going to like it….The Commissioner suggested we release a statement to the Press."

Craddock was beside himself. "And what would it say? Simon, if we put the word out, and I was only just thinking about this before you came in, we could create a wave of copycats, and what do you think will happen if everyone finds out about the kid is, well, a kid?"

Simon looked down. "It would be a nightmare; people would be looking at the kids out there who are homeless even though we both know that this kid isn't one of them. By the way, one of the Commissioner's aides suggested putting DCI Selway in charge of this investigation but I stopped it by saying it was unlikely she'd make any headway, and I raised the argument by pointing out if she used the media to look for information there was a chance we wouldn't find him."

"Sian Selway?" Craddock snorted in disdain and looked away. "You should have told them to go ahead."

DCI Sian Selway was one of the few police officers in London whom Craddock had learnt to just ignore and view with disdain. Selway was one of those coppers who was overly ambitious and was a highflier, and she had the expertise and the brilliance to at least win some of his respect. But the problem was Selway was one of those coppers who loved publicity for some reason Craddock had never understood.

"I know you don't like her, Bill, but-."

"Do you know why?" Craddock was in no mood for political pandering. "I don't like her because she loves seeing her name in the papers. I don't like how she cares for her own image. I've logged in dozens of hours on this case, Simon. You know that. But I also know others think I'm useless. Wrong. I've worked dozens of things about this kid, Simon. He's come from a rotten background, he's possibly a runaway who fell in with a bad crowd or he decided being a good guy is not for him. How did I get that? From learning about what happened with the first break-in. He's changed his MO, meaning he's intelligent, and he experiments. He's done this several times so we can hardly keep up with him. He commits robberies so they appear to happen at random once every few weeks so he does not make any of the normal mistakes a criminal like that makes. Aside from the first robbery, he leaves no forensic. Nobody sees him, not counting CCTV footage. He takes bits and pieces, he concentrates on what he can sell, but he concentrates on cash mostly or things he can sell. He doesn't seem to have a fence, or he does but they aren't in this city although I don't know how he managed to do that since he's just a kid. If Sian wants to take over or work with me, then fine. I could use all the help I can get," Craddock just shook his head, "I'm starting to think this is one robber we're not going to get. In fact… do you remember that Spider-Man burglar?"

"I know, you think it's the same guy."

"Not think," Craddock corrected. "They are the same guy. That guy was confirmed as being short, around the size of a midget, or a kid. The first time this robber appeared Simon, he sealed himself away in a room, and he disappeared. The window was open. I know it's not proof but it fits.

X

Melissa Indigo was an actress, but she wasn't one Harry was concerned about because he genuinely did not know enough about her to rate her as an actress; he had watched one of her movies, and he couldn't stand her one-dimensional character, although he was positive the writing was mostly to blame for that. But truthfully Harry was just not bothered about her as a person, he was more interested in what she had in her home.

Finding her address wasn't difficult. She was one of those actors who lived in London, which made it rather easy for him to find. After his last robbery, Harry had gone without theft for over three weeks. He had been preparing for this one. He had been studying this part of London even before the last robbery, and he was more than ready.

He had it all sorted out.

Walking up to the front door while he kept his hood up, Harry reached out for the doorbell and with his magic, he pressed down hard on it while he hid quietly.

The door opened. "Yes?" Miss Indigo called.

Harry stayed quiet and hidden. The actress decided no-one was out there, so she went back inside and closed the door. Harry smirked as he magically touched the doorbell and pressed it, delivering a much longer blast.

The door opened again. "Who's there, is someone messing about?" The actress sounded edgy. Harry reached into his pocket and pulled out a stone and chucked it at the woman's car parked in the drive. The stone smacked into the car's mirror, making a loud noise.

"Who's there?" Miss Indigo demanded, striding angrily towards the car to check for damage. Deep down the actress was getting scared that there was somebody nearby, waiting for her out here, so she swept her gaze in every direction. But there was nobody around as far as she could see. And there was no sign of any neighbours sticking their heads out the door to see what the fuss was all about, but she was still worried. When she saw the car wasn't that seriously damaged although she made a mental note to take the car to the garage for a check.

She cast another look around, but aside from the illuminated areas lit up by the streetlights there was no sign of any kind of movement. Melissa Indigo shivered, and so she went back inside the house. As she closed the door and turned around, Melissa felt something soft but soaking wet clamp itself to her face even as the short figure dressed in dark colours gently held it to her face while the world blackened…

X

"Yeah, it was definitely him," DI Craddock sighed as he made his way into Patterson's office to deliver his report. The police had received a call from the actress Melissa Indigo she had been attacked. The actress had explained in great detail despite her panic and terror about what happened, describing how the intruder had rung her doorbell and how she'd found nobody there before she'd tried to get back to cooking her dinner before the doorbell rang again, and something hit her car mirror.

The actress proved she had some sense by taking precautions like looking around, but Craddock believed the woman's mistake was keeping the door open. It was clear to him the robber had made sure to create a large enough disturbance by throwing something at the mirror of her car so he could sneak into her home, and then wait for her to come in.

When she did….

"His MO's changed again, slightly. Before he just rang the doorbell a few times, hid, and then waited for someone to come out of the house so he could slap chloroform on them and then get into the house. This is the first time he's used tactics like these," he went on.

Patterson sighed, knowing the Commissioner and his immediate supervisors were not going to like any of this. If the worst came to the worst, they'd take Craddock off of the case although he knew it would do little good. By now the robber, the kid, had gone into hiding and he wouldn't come out until later. "How's Miss Indigo?"

"How do you think? She's terrified and she likely won't get to sleep tonight. God, what a mess."