Harry Potter Returns
A Harry Potter/Superman Returns Crossover
Chapter Twenty-Five
Crisis
Updated August 19, 2011
"I wondered when you would get around to me," Harry folded his arms across his chest. "I've been thinking about your demand to have your powers back, and I'm not sure I'm ready to give them up."
Superman stepped forward, moving closer to him. Even though Harry was taller than he'd been when they first met, the Man of Steel stood 6-feet 4-inches, towering over Harry. "Are you going back on your promise, Potter?"
"To be honest," Harry retorted, "I'm not too sure I should have promised anything to you in the first place."
"What makes you say that?" Kara interjected.
Harry looked at her, but didn't respond. "It's irrelevant, anyway," Superman snapped. "They are my powers, not yours, human."
"They've been my powers for almost a year now," Harry snapped in reply. "And you haven't had a problem with that until after you got back from the Dark Dimension. I wonder why that is?" he asked, pointedly.
"You're imagining things," Superman said, dismissively. "I have long considered the problem of restoring my powers."
"You never mentioned anything like that to me," Kara objected. "You even told me months ago that you were happy Harry had some of your powers, that he'd been very helpful to you in the past!"
"This is pointless," Superman said. He extended a hand toward Harry, who suddenly felt himself frozen in place. His hand next moved toward Kara, but she whisked away at super-speed. Good girl, Harry thought. He'd been afraid that Kara would try to stop Superman herself, whereas Harry was quite sure that her powers weren't up to stopping the Man of Steel's magical powers. He was now able to concentrate on freeing himself. He tried a couple of ward-breaking spells, neither of which worked on the Petrifaction Charm Superman had placed on him. He finally applied a powerful magical negation spell, which freed him just as Superman reached for him. Harry Teleported away, appearing at the edge of the Kent farm. He expected Superman to follow him, to continue the fight, but nothing happened for several seconds. A moment later Kara landed beside him.
"Where's he at?" she asked. Harry shook his head.
"I'll check the house," Kara said, then breathed, "Oh, Rao — he's got Mrs. Kent!"
"Damn!" Harry gritted. "What's wrong with him? He's using his own mother against us!"
"That's not the Clark I know," Kara said, shaking her head.
"I think that's it," Harry muttered. He looked at Kara. "I think something happened to Clark while he was in the Dark Dimension, something that's making him act this way."
"That could be it," Kara agreed. "But what do we do about that?" She pointed to Mrs. Kent, who was being held by Superman, looking utterly terrified, as he stood watching them from their vantage point several hundred yards away, just as they were watching him.
"We rescue her," Harry replied, grimly. He glanced at Kara, who nodded, then Teleported into the Kent house, appearing before Superman and Mrs. Kent.
"You're back," Superman said, in a mocking tone. "I was beginning to think you didn't care what happened to my mother."
"More than you care, apparently," Harry replied, in a sneering tone. "Who are you, really?" he wanted to know. "You're obviously not really the Man of Steel, if you're threatening Clark Kent's mother."
"Took you long enough to figure that out, boy," Superman replied, grinning maliciously. "You'll find out who I am soon enough, when my plans to take over this world come to fruition."
"You have to be from the Dark Dimension," Harry speculated. "Superman was there for some time, trying to save me. I think you somehow possessed him. You could be Clea, taking revenge on him for his defeat of you." Another idea suddenly occurred to Harry. "Or — you might be Dormammu. That would explain why you never moved against Clea — you were planning to possess Superman all along!"
Superman let go of Martha Kent's arm long enough to clap in derisive acknowledgement of Harry's deduction. "Correct, but for the wrong reason," he said. "I had actually possessed the demon S'ym, in demonic Limbo, with plans to take over that dimension from its Sorcerer Supreme, Illyana Rasputin, until Superman came along. I transferred to him, giving him enough power to defeat Clea and take over the Dark Dimension, which is rightfully mine, as is Earth!
"With the magical might I possess added to this puppet's body," Dormammu went on. "No one on Earth — not Doctor Strange, nor Doctor Fate, nor even you, Harry Potter, can stop me from imposing my will over this universe, beginning with this paltry planet."
"You wouldn't blame me if I at least tried?" Harry suggested.
"I welcome it," Dormammu said. His arm shot out at super-speed, casting a spell at Harry, who managed to deflect and dodge it at super-speed as well. The spell blasted a hole in the wall behind him. Harry threw a combination Impediment and Banishing Charm at Dormammu, who slid back several feet but was otherwise unharmed.
At that moment, however Kara, moving at super-speed, flew into the house and grabbed Martha Kent, then disappeared with her just as fast. Harry left the house at super-speed as well, rejoining Kara and Mrs. Kent several hundred yards away, where the three of them Teleported away.
As Harry, Kara and Mrs. Kent reappeared, hundreds of miles away, Harry quickly erected wards designed to hide them from magical detection. "Dormammu might break through these eventually, but I think he's too focused on his desire to take over Earth to worry about us for now."
"I wonder what he thinks of us rescuing Mrs. Kent," Kara mused.
Harry got a faraway look in his eyes for a moment. "He's not too happy," he said. He looked at Martha, who was still in shock from what she'd just gone through, then at Kara, who had a questioning look in her eyes. "I'll tell you later," he said, softly. "For now, I think we need to get Mrs. Kent to a safe place. And the safest place I know, other than Hogwarts itself, is the Burrow." At Kara's nod, Harry Teleported them all away, to Devon in England.
=ooo=
After introducing Mrs. Kent to Mr. and Mrs. Weasley, who were only too happy to have "a friend of Harry's" stay at their home, Harry and Kara Teleported directly to the door outside Professor Dumbledore's study, bypassing the stone gargoyle and the moving staircase. Harry knocked anxiously on the door; they had to discuss the situation with the professor as soon as possible.
"Come in," Dumbledore's voice spoke, and Harry and Kara stepped inside. "Ah, Harry," Dumbledore said, as soon as he saw him. "Welcome, and to your friend as well. To what do I owe the honor of this visit?"
"A problem," Harry replied. "A big one." Dumbledore's expression grew more and more serious as Harry described the situation that had developed over the past half-hour.
When Harry finished, Dumbledore nodded. "This is indeed serious," he agreed. From what I understand from Dr. Strange, Dormammu is extremely powerful and dangerous. If he has possessed the body of Superman, his power may well-nigh exceed that of all the wizards and sorcerers on Earth, including those of Drs. Strange and Fate."
"I've been thinking of bringing them in on this," Harry suggested. "We need all the help we can get, if we're going to stop Dormammu and save Superman."
"I will contact Phineas immediately," Dumbledore replied. "He will be able to send Dr. Strange and Chloe Sullivan to us, and may well journey here himself." The headmaster took out his wand and pointed it toward the window of his study. A bright light burst from the tip and shot off through the window. "I've dispatched my Patronus to Phineas; it should be there in seconds. Phineas will respond as quickly, using his own method of communication."
But over a minute passed, without result, before Dumbledore frowned and said, "It seems Phineas is otherwise engaged, or unable to reply at this time."
"Could something have happened to him?" Harry asked, anxiously. "Could Dormammu have gotten to him already?"
"I do not know," the headmaster replied, soberly. "He usually replies well before this —" A sudden flash of light distracted them as a familiar blue-cloaked figure appeared in Dumbledore's office.
"Professor Potter said you needed to speak to me," Dr. Strange said. "I came as quickly as I could. What is this about?"
"It concerns a being known to you as Dormammu," Dumbledore explained. "It appears that he possessed the body of Superman and was thus able to travel to Earth's dimension when Superman returned. Since Superman became Sorcerer Supreme of both Earth and the Dark Dimension by defeating Clea, he now wields almost irresistible power."
Dr. Strange looked very unsettled by this news. "This is very bad. I had wondered why he delayed to return the Eye and Orb of Agamotto to me — it seems we now know the answer to that question."
"What can we do to stop him?" Harry asked.
"Without more help, very little, I'm afraid," Strange conceded. "I need to contact Dr. Fate."
"Wasn't she with you, at the Academy?" Harry was surprised for a moment before the connection clicked for him. "Oh no — Chloe and Superman were seeing a lot of each other after we returned from the Dark Dimension. He may have done something to her…"
Strange closed his eyes, seeming to concentrate deeply for several seconds. "I do not find her anywhere on Earth," he said at last, in a grave tone. "That does not mean Fate is in Dormammu's hands, but it is unsettling."
There was a rustling at the window of Dumbledore's study. He gestured toward the window, and it swung open. An owl flew in, settling on the desk in front of the headmaster, offering the letter tied to its leg toward him. Dumbledore removed the letter and opened it, sparing a moment to place an owl treat in front of the owl, who hooted gratefully, swallowed the treat, and flew out the window.
"This is a letter from the Ministry," Dumbledore said after a short pause while he scanned the letter. "It is addressed to me, but I think all of you should hear it."
Professor Dumbledore,
At 1302 Greenwich Mean Time today, the Ministry was visited by an image of the Muggle superhero known as Superman. The image informed us that the Ministry had 5 hours, until 1800 GMT, to cede all authority in Wizarding Britain to him.
Failure to comply with this demand, we were told, would result in the destruction of the Ministry of Magic and everyone inside.
Shortly after we were given this ultimatum, we received messages from the United States, Canada, and several South American Wizarding governments that they had been similarly threatened.
We do not understand how or why this Muggle superhero is making such demands. The United States Wizarding government informed the U.S. Muggle President of the situation; they were advised to comply for now, to minimize bloodshed. The U.S. Wizarding President suspects duplicity between Superman and the Muggle government. We wish to know your views on this matter. Please reply with all haste.
Rufus Scrimgeor
Minister of Magic, British goverment
Kara was shaking her head in disbelief. "He must be going mad," she breathed.
"Dormammu is beginning his conquest of Earth," Dr. Strange declared. "He plans to take over the Wizarding governments of the world, making witches and wizards all over the world subject to him. From there, he will begin to make the non-magical governments bow to him as well."
"So how do we stop him?" Harry asked, tensely. "He had enough magical power to beat Clea, back in the Dark Dimension. I don't know if we can pull that much power together, with Dr. Fate missing and the Wizarding governments across the world in crisis."
Dumbledore was silent for a moment. Then, "Do you know of any weaknesses he has, Harry? I presume that you are aware of them, as much for your own sake as for his."
"Well, he was vulnerable to magic," Harry answered. "But that was before he got magical powers of his own, before Dormammu possessed him. He's also vulnerable to kryptonite, but his magic isn't affected, so he can use magic to neutralize the kryptonite before it completely disables him."
"Anything else you can think of?" Dumbledore asked, calmly.
Harry was scanning through his memories for the accumulated knowledge of all things Kryptonian that he'd learned from Clark over the past ten months. Just as he opened his mouth to respond, though, Kara beat him to it. "Red solar radiation," she said. "Kryptonians lose their super-powers under a red sun!"
Harry nodded in agreement, but still looked worried. "The only problem is, obviously, that we have a yellow sun, not a red one."
"What if he were to be transported to a system where the sun was red?" Dumbledore inquired. Harry stared at him in disbelief.
"You can't teleport someone that far!" he objected. "Even a Portkey probably wouldn't reach as far as the Earth's moon! The nearest red star is over four light-years away!"
"Our magic is incapable of such a feat," Dumbledore agreed. "But you now have knowledge of magic far more sophisticated that wand-based wizardry, Harry. Surely there is a way to exploit one or more of Superman's weaknesses to defeat him."
Harry looked away, then back at Dumbledore. "I'll try to find it," he said, slowly. "But it would be best to have a couple of plans in place, just in case the first one doesn't work."
"An eminently practical suggestion, Harry," the headmaster agreed. "I suggest you begin working on one or more of those plans, while I contact Professor Potter and several other experts of magical use to help us in our quest to defeat this Dormammu."
Harry nodded and stepped close to Kara. The two of them disappeared, to brainstorm a strategy they could use against a possessed, super-powered Kryptonian with mad magical powers. "No pressure," Harry muttered, just as they vanished. Dumbledore smiled slightly in spite of himself and the graveness of the situation.
=ooo=
Aboard the Alexandria once again, Lex Luthor leaned back in his easy chair, enjoying a snifter of brandy and a fine cigar. The yacht was making its way back to the United States after picking him up near the southwest coast of England. He'd made his way out of Wiltshire after fleeing the Malfoy estate, feeling lucky for once — Harry Potter hadn't caught him after removing Voldemort from the estate. Lex counted himself as fortunate since Potter must have realized who supplied Voldemort and his Death Eaters with kryptonite.
If their luck held out, the yacht would make it back to the United States in a week or so, and Lex's makeshift lab aboard the vessel was already processing the raw meteors to extract kryptonite from them, meteors that his crew had "found" over the course of the preceding weeks, while he was in the Dark Lord's clutches. At least he was no longer in Azkaban — Lex felt a shudder go through him, contemplating his chances of breaking out of the wizard's prison if Voldemort hadn't done it for him.
Luthor expected to process a couple of pounds of kryptonite from the meteor rocks. He was going to have to come up with a foolproof method of delivering it to his targets, Harry Potter and Superman. Potter, it seemed, could somehow neutralize the green K magically, and Luthor had to assume that Superman could do the same.
He poured himself another snifter of brandy, inhaling and enjoying the aroma of the fine liquor before taking a sip. Delicious! He filled his lungs with fine Cuban cigar smoke, letting it give him a mellow buzz — it had been months since he'd enjoyed a truly fine cigar. Most wizards either smoked pipes, using some very strange tobacco blends, or didn't indulge at all. Apparently they hadn't discovered cigarettes in the Wizarding world, Luthor mused.
The door to his study opened and Stanford, the most scientifically gifted of his henchmen, stepped into the room. Luthor smiled at his use of the term "henchmen" — it seemed such a quaint but apt word, almost anachronistic; it was better suited to gangster movies or light comedies than an actual description of someone.
"Hi, boss," Stanford said as he stopped next to Luthor's easy chair. "How much longer do you want us to cook the meteor rocks? They've been in the kiln for almost a day now."
"That should be enough to melt off the meteor material," Luthor decided. "You've had them in there at 300 degrees, correct?"
Stanford looked nonplussed. "Um," he said, after a moment. "I thought you said 3000 degrees."
Luthor bolted upright. "What?" he shouted. "Of course I said three hundred, not three thousand!" He leaped out of his chair. "Come on!" He and Stanford raced down to the room they were using as a lab. Luthor had a high-temperature kiln installed, on that would let him melt materials in a controlled fashion. He glanced into the kiln, then pointed angrily to it. "Get it out of there, now!"
Stanford hurriedly donned protective goggles and gloves, then took a long tongs and slid the cup holding the meteor material out of the kiln. The rock had vaporized under the extreme heat, leaving only the kryptonite. But the kryptonite itself was changed — it was charred black instead of its familiar green color.
"What did you do?" Luthor growled at his protégé. Stanford shook his head helplessly. "Get the radiation meter," Luthor ordered, and the Indian henchman scrambled to comply, handing the probe to his boss.
Luthor passed the probe over the blackened kryptonite, expecting to find no useful radiation coming from it. But he was surprised to note that the radiation was as strong as usual, though it was giving off different types of radiation than before.
"Interesting," Luthor muttered. "We may have stumbled onto a new kind of kryptonite. The radiation signature is similar to, but different from, green kryptonite."
"Excellent!" Stanford was secretly pleased by the development — perhaps Lex wouldn't be so hard on him because of this. "How do you think it will affect Superman?" he asked.
"I have no idea," Luthor responded. "But I think we'll want to find out." He walked over to the intercom, punched the button for the bridge.
"Brutus here, boss," the lead henchman answered. "What's up?"
"Turn us around," Luthor commanded. "We're going back to England."
=ooo=
Rufus Scrimgeour was at his desk, silently fuming over the developments of the past several hours. They were minutes away from having to cede the authority of Wizarding Britain over to super-powered Muggle or risk potential destruction. The Muggle and Wizarding governments of the United States had been no help — they were urging Britain to capitulate for now, to avoid bloodshed. But there was no telling what this Superman would do once he held the reins of Wizarding government. And Dumbledore still hadn't responded to him!
Scrimgeour stood suddenly, moving to the door of his office, where he snapped to his assistant. "Have Weasley and Shacklebolt come up here at once — I have some questions for them."
Within a minute both men entered the Minister's office. "You sent for us, Minister?" Shacklebolt asked, in his deep, slow voice. "What does this concern?"
"What do you think?" Scrimgeour snapped. "You do recall we are in the middle of a crisis, do you not, Kingsley?"
"Of course, Minister," Kingsley responded, calmly. "I meant, specifically."
"Specifically, then — why hasn't Dumbledore responded to my owl? I sent it to him hours ago! We need to know what to do about this Superman business."
"I'm sure he's giving it due consideration, Minister," Arthur Weasley spoke up. "There are a lot of things to consider, I'm sure."
"Oh, I expect there are, Weasley," Scrimgeour sneered. "A super-powered Muggle madman threatens all the western Wizarding governments — and I've heard that he's continued that trend with the mid-East and far Eastern governments as well, making his demands worldwide — with destruction unless they capitulate to his demands to hand over authority to him. He appears to have magical powers, something that was not known about him when he was last seen on Earth, almost six years ago. No one knows where he is or what he's doing right now, and we have no way of contacting him before the time limit is up. Does that about cover things, in your estimation?"
"It seems to," Arthur admitted, not acknowledging the Minister's obvious sarcasm. "But I'm sure Dumbledore will respond before the time limit is up."
"You Order types all stick together, don't you?" Scrimgeour sneered once again. When Arthur and Kingsley both began to object, the Minister held up a hand for silence. "You needn't bother denying it, we've known of your loyalty to Dumbledore for some time, now. It's been convenient to keep both of you on here at the Ministry, to keep an eye on you.
"But soon," Scrimgeour pointed out, "it will be time for you to choose where your primary loyalties lie — with the Ministry or with Dumbledore and his Order. You cannot serve both equally."
"We have done so thus far," Kingsley objected, but Scrimgeour shook his red-maned head.
"Not by my estimation, Shacklebolt," he disagreed. "You have provided Ministry information to the Order in direct violation of confidentiality guidelines."
"Who accuses us of this?" Kingsley demanded.
"That's confidential," Scrimgeour grinned at the consternation on their faces. His mole was a veritable treasure-trove of information about the workings of the Order — he had no plans to give that up, now. It would probably be good for a bit of internal strife as Dumbledore and the others tried to sort out which of their members was informing on them. If they did figure it out — well, it was good while it lasted.
A small paper airplane suddenly flitted about Scrimgeour's head. Annoyed at the interruption, he snatched it out of the air, opened and read it. A smile came across his lips. "Well," he said, looking up at the two men standing before him. "Your leader is here in person," he said. He scrawled "Send him in" on a piece of parchment, then tapped it with his wand. The parchment folded itself into a paper airplane and flittered into the air, disappearing through a small hole near the ceiling. "He'll be in shortly," Scrimgeour continued, "and we'll get this business sorted out, once and for all."
Dumbledore entered a few moments later, nodding cordially to Scrimgeour as he noted the presence of Arthur and Kingsley. "Good afternoon, Minister. I trust you, Mr. Weasley and Auror Shacklebolt were having a pleasant conversation before I arrived."
"Quite an interesting one, Dumbledore," Scrimgeour replied, letting the sarcasm in his voice come through. "But that can wait for another time. What can you tell me about the demands this Superman is making?"
"Only a little," Dumbledore admitted. "He is not really Superman, but an extradimensional being called Dormammu, who has possessed Superman's body in order to enter our universe and bend it to his will."
"Extradimensional?" Scrimgeour looked perplexed. "I don't understand. Is our universe not the only one in existence?"
"There are many parallel universes, Minister," Dumbledore explained. "Normally, it requires powerful magic to breach the dimensional barriers to these universes, magic that is beyond anything the Ministry controls. There are beings, however, that can do so."
"Can you?" Scrimgeour asked him.
"No, I cannot," Dumbledore replied.
"Alright, then," Scrimgeour took a deep breath. "What does this mean, exactly, for the Ministry? This Superman — or Dormammu, whoever — has given us an ultimatum that is due within the hour, to cede authority from the Ministry to him or face whatever consequences he plans to visit upon us. I've already had word that the United States Wizarding government has decided to cede authority to him, and several Latin and South American countries are following suit. So what kind of plan do we have?"
"I have been in touch with someone who is working on the problem, even as we speak," Dumbledore replied. He gestured toward the door. "He will be here within seconds, to brief you."
A moment later the door opened and Harry Potter stepped into the room. Scrimgeour took one look at him and scowled. "Potter? You again? I thought you had run away to America!"
"Sorry to disappoint you, Minister," Harry retorted, coldness in his voice for the Minister; Harry had decided that Scrimgeour was not much of an improvement over Fudge, who had serious biases against him, especially when he believed Harry and Dumbledore were colluding to seize the Ministry's power. "I've been back for several months now."
Scrimgeour rounded on Dumbledore. "You told me that Potter wasn't taking classes at Hogwarts! Granger and the two youngest Weasleys returned to classes in January, you told me, but not Potter!"
"That information is technically correct, Minister," Dumbledore replied, mildly. "Harry has not returned to classes — he has been involved in 'special studies' at Hogwarts, however."
"Still splitting hairs as finely as possible, eh?" Scrimgeour growled. "Sometimes I wonder if I ever get the whole truth from you, Dumbledore."
"As much of it as you need to know, Minister," the headmaster replied, with a twinkle in his eye. "Is that not how the Ministry prefers to parcel out its information?"
"That's different," Scrimgeour argued. "We're not —"
"Excuse me," Harry interjected. "Do you want to hear about Dormammu or do you want to argue petty Ministry politics?"
Scrimgeour frowned furiously at Harry, but after a moment he gestured impatiently for Harry to go ahead.
"We have several possible ways to weaken Superman's body, and therefore potentially render it useless to Dormammu. Kryptonite will weaken Superman's super-powers, but it will not affect his (or Dormammu's) magical abilities unless I'm able to surprise him and render him incapable of neutralizing the kryptonite."
"You, Potter?" Scrimgeour asked, skeptically. "Are you saying you have the power to stop this Dormammu?"
"Not necessarily," Harry shook his head. "His power probably exceeds my own — he was able to stop the Sorceress Supreme of the Dark Dimension in her own domain, and claim the title for himself. We believe it is because he added Superman's magical abilities to his own when he possessed Superman."
Scrimgeour was looking blankly at him. "I don't understand any of that 'Dark Dimension' or 'Sorceress Supreme' stuff," he admitted. "Does this have to do with these other 'dimensions' Dumbledore mentioned?
"Yes," Harry nodded. "There is a Sorcerer Supreme in each universe or dimension. Until recently the Sorcerer Supreme of Earth was Dr. Stephen Strange, but he gave up his title to Clea in order for her to protect her own domain, the Dark Dimension, from Dormammu. But she wanted to take additional measures to protect herself, and she kidnapped me and took me to her domain, to train me in more powerful magic and have me help her protect it. I was there for two years of subjective time, even though only four or five days passed on Earth.
"When Superman and some other magical folks came to the Dark Dimension to rescue me, Superman had a run-in with a demon named S'ym, in Otherplace, who was possessed by Dormammu in preparation of taking it over from Magik, its Sorceress Supreme. He saw an opportunity to return to the Dark Dimension, however, and possessed Superman, adding his magical abilities to Superman's to make him more powerful than Clea."
"Okay, I understood about a tenth of what you just said," Scrimgeour said, plaintively. "But never mind any of that for now. Just tell me, where did Superman get magical abilities in the first place? He was never listed as a magical adept in any of our intelligence about him."
"Well," Harry spoke reluctantly. "He actually got his magical ability from — me." There was no use keeping this from Scrimgeour, given what was at stake with the threat from Dormammu.
"You?" Scrimgeour's tone was incredulous. "How could you have given him magical powers?"
"There was an accident," Harry explained. "I found his ship when he returned to Earth. He was weakened by a piece of kryptonite embedded in the hull of his ship. When I tried to move him clear of it, a bolt of lightning struck his ship, passing through him and me. When I woke up, I found that some of my magic had passed to him and that some of his super-powers had flowed into me."
"So you're saying you have super-powers now?" Scrimgeour said, slowly. Harry nodded. "How strong are you, compared to him?"
"Superman has about three-fourths of his original strength," Harry replied. "I have about half. I know that doesn't add up, but the union of magic and super-powers seems to mutually amplify them. I don't have enough power, either way, to defeat him on my own, however."
"Well who does?" Scrimgeour practically shouted, his frustration coming to a peak.
"Unfortunately, we do not know," Dumbledore spoke up once again. "I have contacted Professor Phineas Potter —"
"What?" Scrimgeour looked outraged. "That old fraud? He doesn't even teach proper magic —"
"It's more powerful magic than you think," Harry broke in. "I know the Ministry doesn't approve of him, because he teaches wandless magic that's more powerful than anything the Ministry allows. But between the Academy and my time in the Dark Dimension, my magical ability has grown exponentially from what it was a year ago."
"And yet you're still unable to stop this Dormammu," Scrimgeour retorted pointedly. "What good does that do us?"
"There are other things we can do to weaken him," Harry replied. He reached in a pocket, taking out a round mirror about four inches in diameter. "I've created this solar reflector," he said, handing it to Scrimgeour for inspection. It will absorb yellow sun radiation, converting it to red solar radiation and beaming it at whomever I point it at."
"And that means what, exactly," Scrimgeour asked. "What does red solar radiation do to Dormammu?"
"Nothing," Harry replied, "but it removes a Kryptonian's super-powers. I think, with those powers removed, it will weaken his magical ability some as well."
"How did you work that out?" Scrimgeour demanded.
"I tested it on myself," Harry replied. "Under the red solar radiation, I loar my super-powers and my magical ability dropped sharply. I was still capable of some wandless magic, but much of what I learned in the Dark Dimension and in reading the Academy and Hogwarts Libraries was no longer accessible to me, probably because my memory became normal again. It should affect Superman and Dormammu the same way, although Dormammu knows a lot of magic in his own right — he may not be weakened as much as I was."
"We have less than 30 minutes before this Dormammu is supposed to appear, to hear our decision," Scrimgeour said, looking at the clock on his desk. "So far, you've come up with nothing that's guaranteed to stop him. I don't want to cede authority over to him, but we may have no choice if we are to survive."
"I plan on a multi-pronged attack," Harry explained. "We'll hit him with the kryptonite — if he neutralizes it, we have the red solar mirror to use against him, and I will try to overcome him while he's dealing with that."
"And if you fail?" Scrimgeour suggested. "Then what?"
"Then, I'll have Magik teleport us to Limbo," Harry replied. "I think there I can manage to keep him there for as long as necessary."
"You can keep him there?" Dumbledore repeated. "Harry, you're not thinking of remaining there with him, are you?"
"It's the only way I can ensure he remains there, sir," Harry replied, diffidently. "It's a small price to pay, really."
"But what about — er, You-Know-Who?" Scrimgeour asked. "What will we do about him if you're no longer around?"
"Oh," Harry chuckled softly. "I suppose I forgot to mention—Voldemort's already taken care of. I left him in Limbo with a bunch of demons guarding him." Dumbledore, Kingsley, Arthur and Scrimgeour were all staring at him in frank surprise.
"You mean," Scrimgeour said slowly, unbelievingly, "you rid Britain of its most powerful Dark Wizard, and you forgot to mention it to us?"
"Sorry," Harry shrugged. "Shit happens, I guess."
At that moment another paper airplane fluttered by Scrimgeour's head. Snatching it from the air, he read it, then shook his head. "It certainly seems to," he agreed, looking up from the scrap of parchment. "Guess who's in the Atrium at this moment, waiting to talk to me?"
"Probably not Dormammu," Harry answered. "I doubt if he'd need to stop in the Atrium for permission."
"You're right," Scrimgeour said, handing the parchment to Dumbledore, who raised an eyebrow as he read it.
"Interesting," Dumbledore remarked softly. "Why would he be here, now?"
"Well, who is it?" Harry asked, deciding not to read the parchment magically.
"It is Lex Luthor," Dumbledore said. "He was sentenced to Azkaban some months ago, as you may recall, Harry, but was freed in January by Voldemort. We suspected he was at Malfoy Manor, but several searches turned up nothing. The remarkable thing about this breakout was that Voldemort actually freed a Muggle, though he detests them."
"Luthor's pretty smart, or so Superman told me," Harry said. "But it seems pretty stupid of him to show up here, now. Doesn't he think we'll just throw him back into Azkaban?"
Scrimgeour had sat down and taken out another scrap of parchment and was writing on it. "I'm having him sent up here," he said as he wrote. "We'll get to the bottom of this."
"Don't bother," Harry said. "I'll get him." He vanished, appearing moments later with Luthor in tow.
"Hi, everyone," Luthor said, looking around the room at the faces staring grimly at him. "How's everybody doing?"
"Cut the banter, Luthor," Harry snapped, pushing him into a nearby chair. "What are you here for?"
"Well," Luthor said, airily, "according to information I've received, you're in the middle of a crisis involving some powerful being wanting to take over the Wizarding communities across the globe."
"How could you know that?" Scrimgeour demanded. "No news agency, Muggle or Wizarding, has been made privy to that information!"
"Well, I'm not a criminal genius for nothing," Luthor sneered. "My information-gathering network is very sophisticated. Am I wrong?"
Scrimgeour took a deep breath before shaking his head. "So," he went on, after a moment. "What do you want?"
"I want to help," Luthor said, immediately. "After all, if the Wizarding communities of the world fall, the Muggle governments will certainly be targeted next. I doubt whether I could hide effectively under those conditions."
"How are you going to help?" Harry asked, exasperated. "Did you make some more kryptonite or something, to use against us?"
"It never hurts to be prepared," Luthor pointed out. "But actually, I have something new…" he reached into his suit pocket, removing a small lead box. "Inside this box is black kryptonite."
"Black kryptonite?" Harry shook his head. "I never heard of such a substance."
"Well, as I said," Luthor smiled. "It's new. So new, in fact, that I'm not sure what it'll do to Superman — or you, for that matter."
"Then why bring it to us?" Scrimgeour wanted to know. "Surely you realize we consider you a wanted fugitive. What's to keep us from locking you up again?"
Luthor looked hurt. "I bring you a potentially useful weapon against this being — who, by the way, you seem to have no other defenses against — and you're unwilling to strike a deal with me?" He shook his head sadly. "Law enforcement just isn't what it once was."
"Cut the crap," Harry snapped. "If we find this black kryptonite useful, I'm sure the Ministry will strike a deal with you. But first we have to find out exactly what it does to a Kryptonian."
Luthor nodded. "I'm sure you'll be able to find a volunteer — say, that little lady who's been flying around England and Europe lately, the one calling herself 'Supergirl.'"
Harry smiled grimly. "Yeah, that's not going to happen," he said. "Besides, I have a better way to find out what your black kryptonite does, Luthor."
"Planning on testing it on yourself?" Luthor asked, blandly.
"No," Harry replied, scowling at Luthor. "I'm taking your sample of black K down to the Department of Mysteries, to perform some detection spells on it. They should tell me what this stuff will do when a Kryptonian is subjected to its radiation."
"We don't have much time," Scrimgeour pointed out, anxiously. "Less than a half-hour before Dormammu is supposed to show up."
"That should be more than enough time," Harry said, taking the lead box from Luthor. "Everything else is in place."
"I hope you know what you're doing, Potter," Scrimgeour said, a warning tone in his voice. "We can't afford for you to muck this up."
"Don't worry, Minister," Harry said, examining the lead box he'd just taken from Luthor. "My days of mucking things up are long gone." He disappeared.
"I hope he's right," Arthur said, nervously. "There's a lot riding on Harry seeing this through."
"I have every confidence he will succeed," Dumbledore said, gesturing with his right hand. Both Arthur and Kingsley noticed that the hand no longer looked burnt or shriveled, though they kept silent in front of Scrimgeour and Luthor. If Harry had actually healed the curse that was in Dumbledore's hand, what else was he capable of?
=ooo=
Kara landed soundlessly behind some bushes just beyond the perimeter of the Academy's front entrance. Since the American Wizarding government had surrender to Dormammu a short time ago, the former (and now current) ruler of the Dark Dimension had asserted his authority over American witches and wizards, making them subservient to his will. Kara wasn't sure whether that applied to the students at the Academy, which operated autonomously, without approval from the American Department of Magic, but it never hurt to be cautious. She was here to see Illyana, to ask her help once again.
Before heading to the front entrance, Kara pulled out the item Harry had loaned to her for making her way through the Academy to Illyana's room: his Cloak of Invisibility. It was a light, silvery cloak that rendered the wearer completely invisible. Kara was quite impressed with it, especially when she watched Harry demonstrate it for her, disappearing from view as he donned it. She pulled it out of a pouch sewn into the lining of her cape and threw it over herself, disappearing from view. Now, as long as she remained silent, she couldn't be detected unless someone cast a revealment spell directly at her. Animals seemed to be able to detect people under the Cloak as well, but not many students here kept pets, unlike at Hogwarts, where almost everyone seemed to have a pet of some kind.
Kara moved silently toward the front entrance. At the door she paused for a moment, trying to see inside with her X-ray vision. Nothing. As Harry had pointed out, the one disadvantage to using the Cloak was that it rendered the wearer transparent to all solar radiation, so she couldn't absorb energy from the sun while wearing it, nor could her vision powers be used while within the Cloak, even though normal eyesight was unaffected. But she could still hear all the noises within the Academy walls, so she listened carefully to see if anyone was in the foyer. It seemed quiet, so Kara opened the door quietly and slipped inside.
She moved carefully down the hallways of the school, avoiding students who were bustling between classes. Since the Academy was six hours behind Britain, it was just coming up on lunch here; Kara hoped she would find Illyana in her office or personal quarters. It would make things simpler than explaining her presence to students and staff.
She was almost to Kara's office when classes dismissed for lunch, and the corridors filled with students hurrying to eat. Kara quickly slid into Illyana's office, closing the door quietly behind her.
"Well, that was cute," Illyana's voice spoke before Kara had turned around. "Harry, is that you beneath your Cloak?"
Kara removed the hood; her head floated in the air, seemingly unconnected to her body. "No, it's me," she said. "I didn't want anyone knowing I was coming here to see you."
Illyana nodded grimly. "I can guess why, with all the crap that's going on in Washington. The idiots at the Department of Magic just handed the Wizarding government of America over to Dormammu."
"I know," Kara nodded. "But I wasn't sure how that affected you here at the Academy."
"So far we're immune to Dormammu's control," Illyana said. "But eventually he'll root out any dissenters to his power." She shook her head, an expression of anger on her face. "I'm still pissed at that creep for hiding out in Otherplace and planning to snatch it away from me. But it explains why S'ym was so 'uppity' when Supes and I were here — he was possessed by Dormammu. So what're you here for, girlfriend — need some help?"
"Harry needs your help again," Kara explained. "He plans on trying to stop Dormammu when he appears at the Ministry of Magic. If Harry can disorient him enough, he wants you to teleport him and Dormammu to Limbo, where he believes he can hold him there, keeping Earth safe."
Illyana digested that information, but looked unsettled. "How's Harry getting out once Dormamu's in Limbo? I don't think my magic is enough to hold him there, even though I wield a lot more power in Limbo than I do, say, here on Earth."
Kara's expression was anguished. "I think he plans on staying there himself, using his own magic to keep Dormammu from escaping. It's either that or destroy Dormammu's vessel and him along with it."
"Not good," Illyana shook her head. "He's inside Superman — nobody wants Supes dead. Too bad we couldn't get him to possess someone else once he's in Limbo — I wouldn't have too much problem getting rid of N'Astirh or even S'ym, if it would destroy Dormammu as well."
"I don't think Harry wants you to kill someone, just for that," Kara muttered, reluctantly. If truth be told, she wouldn't mind the death of some demon to get Harry back, but his code of honor, like Clark's (at least, the Clark she knew) prevented either of them from taking another's life.
"Well, I'm not letting Harry waste away in Limbo," Illyana retorted, stubbornly. "But we can burn that bridge when we get to it. What's the plan?"
"I'll explain on the way there," Kara answered. "Harry has several ideas on putting Dormammu off-balance. When he's sufficiently distracted, Harry will want you to teleport him and Dormammu into Limbo. Until then, we're going to keep you under wraps so Dormammu won't deduct what we're planning."
"What has Harry got that'll weaken Dormammu?" Illyana asked, as she stepped up beside Kara. "He's a pretty powerful sorcerer — and he's not even human, he's some kind of energy being, able to take over the bodies of corporeal beings."
"While he's inside Superman's body, he's at least somewhat susceptible to the same things Superman is," Kara explained. "Kryptonite, red solar radiation, and even magic, to a lesser extent now that he's magical himself."
"Harry's going to have to throw a lot of crap at him at once, and hope some of it sticks," Illyana theorized. "That's a pretty tall order, even for Harry." She shrugged. "But what the hell, I'm game. I still owe the bastard for what he did in Limbo. So where are we headed — I'll drive."
Kara looked confused for a moment until she sorted out the idiom. "Oh — the Atrium of the Ministry of Magic," she said, throwing the Invisibility Cloak over Illyana's shoulders. "We're to keep out of sight until Harry contacts us with instructions." She glanced at the watch on her wrist. "Dormammu said he'd appear at the Ministry exactly five hours after he sent his ultimatum — it's almost six o'clock there now. He's supposed to appear at 6:02 GMT."
"We'd better be on our way, then," Illyana smiled grimly. She and Kara adjusted the Invisibility Cloak so it covered both of them, then Illyana activated one of her teleport discs. She and Kara disappeared from her office.
=ooo=
In the Minister of Magic's office, Rufus Scrimgeour sat at his desk, his stony exterior masking a feeling of apprehension. Would Potter's plan work? Scrimgeour was not even clear on what the young Gryffindor planned to do, much less how it would work out. Standing beside Scrimgeour was Kingsley Shacklebolt, secretary to the Muggle Prime Minister, who was here in order to relay Scrimgeour's decision to the Muggle government.
Also, incongruously, off to one side was seated Lex Luthor, the Muggle criminal genius who'd had several run-ins with Superman over the past decade. He was seated casually on the leather divan, smiling insufferably to himself. Scrimgeour really wished he could clap Luthor back in Azkaban when this ordeal was over — assuming there was a Wizarding government after smoke cleared. Scrimgeour was coming to believe there wouldn't be.
"What time is it?" Luthor asked, his tone light.
Scrimgeour glared at him, but answered, "It's six o'clock straight up. Now be quiet, Luthor — I'm not even sure why you're here, much less what you've got to do with this decision."
Luthor shrugged. "Just here to see history in the making, Minister."
Scrimgeour turned to Kingsley. "Where's Potter?" he demanded, in a curt tone. "Isn't he supposed to be here when this Dormammu arrives?"
"Harry went down to the Atrium, Minister," Kingsley said, softly, presumably so Luthor couldn't hear. "He should be back shortly, unless he was held up for some reason."
Scrimgeour pinched the bridge of his nose in frustration. "That kid is never where he's supposed to be," he growled. "He runs off to America. He comes running back, hiding at Hogwarts like it's some kind of refuge for him. And now he's pulled this mess down on our heads —"
Scrimgeour stopped talking, and everyone in the room stared as a pinpoint of light suddenly appeared in the Minister's office. Brighter and brighter it grew, expanding until the glare was nearly intolerable, then suddenly forming itself into a human shape and coalescing into the figure of Superman.
Luthor studied the Man of Steel with an appraising eye. His face was harder than he remembered it — it was almost stony, as the Kryptonian gazed at the three men in the room with him. He also noticed that Superman seemed much more muscular than when they last met, in Superman's Fortress of Solitude. He also seemed to fairly radiate power—no doubt the result of his takeover of the United States Wizarding community as well as numerous Latin and South American communities. How much more powerful would he become if he took over Britain as well?
"It is time," Superman intoned, in a voice much colder than his normal speech. "Minister, will you willingly grant me authority over the wizarding subjects of Britain? Or must I take them by force?"
Scrimgeour was silent for a long moment. He glanced at Kingsley, who nodded fractionally, then reached in his desk drawer, removing a piece of parchment with the official Ministry seal upon it. "No," he said, with resignation in his voice. "I will sign over my authority to you — but only to avoid needless bloodshed." He wrote on the parchment,
This 14th day of April, 1997, I, Rufus Scrimgeour hereby cedes, abdicates, and grants all power he holds as Minister of Magic for Britain to the being known as Dormammu.
(signed)
Rufus Scrimgeour
Scrimgeour handed the parchment to Kingsley, who read it, then stepped around the desk to hand it to Dormammu. Before he could approach, however, Dormammu held out a hand, and the parchment was snatched from Kingsley's grip, flying into the Man of Steel's grasp. He glanced over it, nodding as he read, then smiled grimly at the two Ministry officials.
"You will find, gentlemen, that in the long run this will be much more beneficial to your people than resistance or rebellion. I can be quite reasonable when I am dealt with in good faith —" His eyes fell on Luthor once again; Dormammu finally seemed to realize just who he was.
"Lex Luthor," he said, recognizing him. "You were the sworn enemy of Superman. You were thrown into Azkaban Prison for crimes against the British state and its citizens. Interesting that you should be here at this time."
"Well," Luthor smiled, with an airy toss of one hand. "I just wanted to watch history in the making. Again."
"No other motive?" Dormammu inquired, skeptically. He pointed a finger at Luthor, who rose into the air, struggling against the invisible forces holding him against his will. "I think there must be some other reason you are here. Explain yourself to me!" A flash of light exploded around Luthor's head.
Luthor shook his head, trying to resist, but after a moment he stopped struggling. "This…is a…trick," he said, slowly, as if in a trance. "They do… not plan to…transfer authority to you…but to trap you…"
Dormammu laughed. "It is too late for that!" He sneered. "They have already transferred authority to me!" His expression suddenly changed. "Unless…" he glanced at the parchment Scrimgeour had written. "Something is wrong — I do not feel the magical power of Wizarding Britain flowing through me! Yet I have the magical document assigning it to me from the Minister of Magic!"
Luthor shook his head painfully. "Scrimgeour is…not…the current Minister of Magic — the Wizengamot…elected a new Minister of Magic…a few minutes before…you arrived."
"Trickery!" Dormammu raged. He turned to Scrimgeour, releasing Luthor, who fell onto the divan. "Speak!" he demanded, as Scrimgeour rose painfully into the air. "Who is your Minister of Magic now!"
Scrimgeour shook his head weakly. "I — I do not know," he gasped. "I was not made privy to the Wizengamot's decision."
"Tell me or suffer a most painful death, wizard," Dormammu warned. He began applying pressure around Scrimgeour's neck, cutting off his air supply. When Kingsley reached to help him, Dormammu froze him solid. Both men began gasping for breath.
Luthor suddenly stepped forward. "Stop!" he said. "You don't need to kill them," he said, then steeled himself and added, "I was made Minister of Magic."
Dormammu released both Scrimgeour and Kingsley, staring at Luthor in frank surprise. "You, a non-magical, elected to the highest office in Wizarding Britain? It sounds ludicrous, yet I see why they would choose you. I would never have suspected you had been made Minister.
"Yet it seems pointless," Dormammu went on. "You had no leverage to use against me, human. What did you hope to gain?"
Luthor was straightening up his clothes, "Time," he admitted. "We were trying to buy time, hoping to find a way to stop you. Unfortunately, none of your vulnerabilities could be adequately exploited enough to stop you." He reached into his jacket pocket, pulling out a folded piece of parchment. "I have the official transfer of authority document here, in case we were unsuccessful in our attempt to stop you. It appears we failed."
Dormammu held out his hand, and the parchment flew from Luthor's grip to him. Before he read it, however, he passed a hand over it, saying, "T
his time, I will be sure this is the genuine document — what?"
The document had transformed in his hand, into a lump of glowing black metallic crystal. Dormammu released the lump, but it stuck to his hand. He began to blur, his features becoming indistinct, as his body started glowing. "What is this magic?" he demanded, clawing at the lump of rock in his hand, unable to release it, until it finally fell away of its own accord.
Dormammu screamed as his body seemed to expand, then split and coalesce into the two distinct beings — one, the Man of Steel, looking more normal than when he first entered the room; and two, a large, muscular being with whose face was weirdly amorphous, glowing red with shining yellow eyes. Both of them reeled unsteadily, weakened by the effects of the black kryptonite on them.
Dormammu recovered first, and stretched out a glowing red hand toward the black kryptonite, now on the floor before him, but Luthor pointed at it first and the rock flew into his hand. At the same moment, from behind Kingsley, Kara suddenly appeared from beneath the Invisibility Cloak, pointing the solar radiation mirror at Superman, who fell over, robbed of his super-powers. Dormammu growled in frustration and rage, then thrust a hand toward Luthor, who was suddenly pulled toward him. But before he could wrest the chunk of black K from Luthor's grip, there was a flash of light around them as Illyana appeared on a stepping disc, and the three of them disappeared.
Scrimgeour, rubbing his sore neck, looked at Kingsley. "I can't believe it," he said. "Potter's plan actually worked."
"You give him too little credit, Minister," Kingsley said in his slow, deep voice, almost chidingly. "Harry has come quite a long way in the past year."
Kara had put away the solar mirror and was helping her cousin to his feet. Superman looked disoriented and confused. "What happened to me?" he asked her. "The last thing I remember was having a talk with some demon in Magik's Limbo dimension."
"There's quite a bit to fill you in on, Kal," she replied. "And it's not over yet — I hope they can deal with Dormammu in Limbo."
"Dormammu?" Superman repeated. "He was the being Harry was supposed to help Clea fight in the Dark Dimension, wasn't he? How did he get here?"
"That's a long story," Kara said. She nodded toward Scrimgeour and Kingsley in gratitude, then walked Superman out of the Minister's office.
=ooo=
Three figures materialized in the bleak starless twilight of Limbo: Illyana, the domain's Sorceress Supreme, the figure of Lex Luthor, and the amorphous figure of Dormammu, who was already beginning to revert to his energy form.
"Foolish humans!" Dormammu screamed. "Did you forget I thrived here, possessing demons and bending them to my will! I will do so again — you will see me as ruler of this pitiful little domain before so much as a day passes on Earth!"
"Not likely," Luthor said, tossing the black kryptonite to Illyana who caught it and conjured a lead box around it. "The best you could do here was possess someone who was leaving this domain — you don't have the power here to free yourself from Limbo, much less rule it."
"Right," Illyana concurred. "Dormie, you don't have a snowball's chance in Hell — or Limbo, for that matter, of getting out of here. We thought Harry was going to have to hold you here, but I realized that you couldn't leave this place without help. It would be interesting to know just how you ended up here in the first place."
Dormammu was forcing himself to maintain corporeal integrity. "You will never keep me here," he rasped. "I will escape!"
Luthor smirked. "You shouldn't tell lies," he sneered. "One of my teachers told me that. Too bad she was such a liar herself." He passed a hand across his face, cancelling the effects of the Polyjuice Potion he'd drunk almost 30 minutes earlier. Within moments, he'd returned to his original form of Harry Potter.
Dormammu was nearly a wisp of vapor now, unable to hold his form. "I guess you're going to be here longer than you thought, Dormie," Illyana said, teasingly. "Don't worry — you'll be in good company. I've got some interesting characters here to keep you company."
Hollow laughter rang out all around them. Illyana frowned. "That's a little creepy," she muttered to Harry. "This Dormammu doesn't know when to quit, does he?"
"Apparently not," Harry said. "Well, I'm glad that's the end of him, anyway —" Harry's words cut off as the vaporous form of Dormammu suddenly converged on him, fusing his energy self with Harry's body.
Caught off-guard, Harry's mind was assaulted from all sides by Dormammu's energy. It was like the Imperius Curse, but magnified a thousand times. Harry fell to the ground, holding his head and writhing as he engaged in mental contact with the renegade Faltine. Dormammu's power inside him was overwhelming — Harry now understood that a corporeal body gave Dormammu much more power here in Limbo than in his energy form alone. Harry could resist the Imperius Curse — in his present magical state, it was simplicity itself — but Dormammu's mental control was much, much stronger. Harry felt himself slipping further and further under the Faltine's control…
Illyana threw the black kryptonite at Harry, but one of his hands gestured and the lump of crystalline metal vanished. "That won't work anymore," Dormammu laughed mockingly. "I now control Potter — soon, I will use his considerable magical prowess to take control of Limbo from you!"
"In a pig's eye," Illyana retorted. She moved toward Harry's writhing figure, one arm held out to her side. As she approached, a bright light shone from her palm, extending itself and materializing as a gleaming silver sword. She slashed the sword through Harry's body — as it struck, there was a blinding flash of golden light from Harry's body and Dormammu's form drew away, shrieking in pain.
"Bitch!" Dormammu shouted at Illyana, who pointed the sword — her Soulsword — at him, keeping the Faltine from approaching her or Harry again.
"Yeah, sticks and stones, asshole." Illyana waved the sword menacingly at the now-solid Dormammu, who had recovered a measure of corporeal integrity in possessing Harry.
Harry himself was examining his body for cuts from the sword. "That's a hell of a sword you've got there," he told Illyana. "What did you do?"
"This is my Soulsword," Illyana explained, still pointing it at the fuming Dormammu. "I created it a long time ago, when I first lived in Limbo; it was made from eldritch energies created within my own body. With it I can disrupt spells and extradimensional beings; and, as you saw, I can use it to split possessed beings into their individual parts, as with you and Dormammu." She waggled the tip at Dormammu's fiery red face. "So don't get any ideas about trying to possess me or Harry again — try it, and I won't just separate you from whoever you're possessing, I'll cut you up into pieces."
Dormammu moved away from Harry and Illyana. "You haven't seen the last of me," he warned them, as he faded into the foggy atmosphere of Limbo.
The Soulsword vanished. "I wouldn't bet on that," Illyana muttered, then turned to Harry. "Jeez, what a pain in the ass that guy was!"
"I'm not too sure about letting him roam free in Limbo," Harry said, sounding worried.
"I've got him under control," Illyana said confidently. "I've already given the other demons orders to keep him in line. And they've got permission to torture anyone possessed by Dormammu mercilessly until he leaves the body."
"That's a bit harsh, don't you think?" Harry asked.
Illyana appeared to mull that over for a few seconds. "Not really," she said at last.
Harry shrugged. "Works for me, then."
"I guess we should get back," Illyana suggested. "We should see how Supes is doing. And, there's the matter of the artifacts of Agamotto, which Dormammu was holding onto to boost his power in Earth's dimension."
"Yeah," Harry agreed. "We also have to let the Wizarding governments that surrendered to Dormammu know that they are no longer subject to his dominion over them."
"Busy day today," Illyana chuckled. "And I've still got homework to grade back at the Academy!"
With a flash of light, Harry and Illyana both disappeared.
A/N: I appreciate all reviews, both laudatory and critical.