Young Justice: Marauders

by dextron11

When Sirius falls through the Veil, Lupin is too slow to stop Harry from following. Now, stranded on a new Earth, Harry must build a new life with new friends. Naturally, all his friends happen to be superheroes. Did he really think his life was crazy before? With new enemies deadlier than he's ever faced, Harry must work with his new Team to survive and maybe even save the world.

6. Chapter 6

This is not an April Fools' joke. I really have managed to turn out another chapter for this story in less than a week. Inspiration struck, so I gave a big middle finger to self-care and churned out over 7000 words in two days. My fingers hurt and my brain feels like a deflated basketball, but it was worth it. Just don't expect a repeat performance too often. I occasionally have to take in sustenance.

Everyone seems supportive of the delay in reaching the show's timeline, so thank you all for your patience. The current plan is to spend a chapter or two on meeting the Justice League and some more training, then a single arc of hero work, and then into the show. That should happen in either chapter 12 or 13, to give you an idea of the time frame.

Several of you messaged me asking if Harry would become an animagus in this story. The answer is yes, he absolutely will. I already have a solid idea for his form and name, but if you want to send in suggestions or guesses, that would be welcome.

Please donate whatever you can to support Ukraine and its people. Every piece helps. Thank you.

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Chapter 6

The next morning, Sirius showed up just as he'd promised. He looked, paradoxically, both more tired than ever and as energized as Harry had seen him. Energized to the point of restlessness. Not even when he'd been trapped in Grimauld Place, slowly going stir crazy, had Harry seen his godfather so twitchy and tense. He paced back and forth, barely saying a word, cane rapping on the linoleum of the hospital floor. Whenever Harry tried to draw him back into their conversation from the previous night, he refused to budge.

"We'll talk in the car," he said finally, when Harry started to get heated. "Not here."

That was enough to divert Harry's rising temper. He hadn't even known Sirius owned a car. He just assumed the man got around much the same way wizards back home did; Apparition, portkeys, maybe portals. He said as much and Sirius actually laughed. A genuine laugh, too, not a wry bark or a resigned huff.

"Mostly, sure, but there's plenty of times it's useful to blend in with normal people. Besides, I used to take a vacation every once in a while, and it's hard to go on road trips without a car."

Harry wasn't sure what to say to that, so he said nothing. They waited in silence until the doctors officially discharged him and they were out of the hospital. When Harry saw what could only be Sirius' car, though, he couldn't hold in a shocked laugh.

"You call this 'blending in'?" He asked. The car was some sort of 1960s Jaguar, painted Gryffindor scarlet, complete with golden brass trim where chrome should have been. It was quite the most ostentatious vehicle Harry had ever seen, and that included the Beauxbaton's carriage. "You paid money for that?"

Sirius sniffed indignantly, and for a moment things were normal again. "I'm a grown man," he said. "And there is nothing wrong with my choice of car."

Exactly none of that was true, but as they got in, Harry didn't say as much. The silence returned, even more awkward than before, and continued until they'd been on the road for several minutes. When it broke, it was because they both tried talking at once.

"Harry, I-"

"What are you-"

Harry looked at Sirius' face and let him go first. His godfather cleared his throat and spoke slowly, obviously choosing his words with care.

"I owe you an apology. Last night I was… harsh with you. It was uncalled for, and I'm sorry. I shouldn't have made you think I was so angry at you."

Harry said nothing, not sure if he was even supposed to. It sounded as if Sirius had more to say, and interrupting seemed like a poor idea.

"Don't mistake me. I was angry that you put yourself in danger. Still am. But mostly I was scared." His knuckles whitened on the steering wheel and his voice cracked as spoke. "Seeing you there, with Faust about to- Merlin, boy, but that scared me."

"Sirius, who is Felix Faust?" Harry asked. It seemed a safe topic for now. Safer than what he really wanted to discuss, at least. "Why did he attack you? And what was he trying to do to me?"

Sirius let out a long, low breath, his expression dark. For a second, Harry thought he wouldn't answer, but when he did, his voice was clinical. Detached, even.

"Felix Faust is an immortal sorcerer. 5000 years ago, he tried to usurp the rule of his home kingdom in Africa. He lost, and his spirit wound up trapped in a tomb until 1921, when a poor madman by the name of Dekan Drache stumbled upon his tomb and freed him." He spoke as if reciting a passage in a book, but the look in his eyes betrayed his true feelings. There was anger there, and a seething hatred Harry hadn't thought Sirius capable of. "He killed Dekan and possessed his body, but most of his power was gone. He was little more than a novice. I'm not sure exactly what he did in those first years, but I think he made deals with various demons to regain much of his old strength. Between that and a collection of magical artifacts and grimoires, by the late 20s he emerged as a serious threat. Serious enough to draw Dr. Fate's attention."

"You fought him," Harry whispered.

Sirius nodded. "Mm-hmm. I won, too, but he was slippery. Got away, and when he came back, he was twice as strong. His power fluctuates depending on what trinkets he has and which demon he owes at any one time. Sometimes he could challenge gods. Other times, he could barely set a building on fire. Don't underestimate his intelligence, though. He's as crafty as they come."

"But why do you hate him so much?" Harry asked. "You do, I can see it. What did he do?"

Sirius growled low in his throat, a dog's growl, angry and vicious. His voice was tight with fury now. "Back in the 30s, I took on an apprentice. A young American by the name of Kent Nelson. He was brilliant, powerful, and he believed in Doctor Fate and his mission. I thought he might take the Helmet from me, one day."

It didn't take a genius to see where the story was going. "Faust killed him, didn't he?"

"Yes." Just one word, but it carried the weight of mountains. "Faust is obsessed with regaining his old power and with getting revenge on those who wrong him. In Kent, he saw a chance to do both. He tried to consume Kent's soul and possess his body just as he did with Dekan."

The breath caught in Harry's throat. "That's… horrible."

Sirius continued as if he hadn't heard him. Perhaps he hadn't. "Kent was a smart one, though. He figured out what Faust was trying to do and stopped it. Blew himself to pieces with his own magic, and nearly took Faust with him, too. It was one of the bravest things I've ever seen a man do."

He turned in his seat, heedless of the road. Harry noticed out of the corner of his eye the car steering itself. The rest of his focus was locked onto Sirius and that piercing, haunted gaze. "That was what he meant to do to you, Harry. It's why he attacked. I don't know how he learned about you, but that was his goal. He was going to eat your soul and wear your corpse like a suit. If I'd been just one minute later…"

Harry swallowed and tried hard to keep his voice from trembling. "W-what happened? After I passed out, I mean?"

"He ran like a scared rabbit," Sirius scoffed. "I told you he was slippery. I took his arm and I think his eyes, too, but he'll have new ones by now. I've ripped him limb from limb before, but he always puts himself back together soon enough." He sighed. "Anyway, that's why I was so scared. It's why I was dead set against you wanting to be a hero. Part of it, anyway."

"And now?" Harry asked, cautious but determined. He understood why Sirius had been so frantic, and it was deeply touching that the man cared for him so much. However, it hadn't changed his mind. Quite the opposite, in fact. Faust was as evil a monster as any Harry had heard of, and Sirius had said he was only a little fish in the grand scheme of things. He wouldn't, couldn't, just sit by and watch as people like that preyed on those they saw as lesser. Not while he had the power to do something about it.

Sirius sighed again, more tired this time. "I didn't want this for you. I love you like you were one of my own sons, and I've only ever wanted what was best for you. You don't know what you're getting yourself into, but I don't suppose it would matter even if you did?"

"Nope," Harry said, trying to ignore the prickling in his eyes when Sirius called him his son.

"That's what I thought." Sirius sighed again. "Dammit. You're the only person I've met more stubborn than your mother. And more foolhardy than your father at your age, which I wouldn't have thought possible. You're really set on this?"

Harry just nodded, not trusting himself to speak. For a long while, Sirius sat and stared blankly at the road. A minute passed, then ten, then thirty. Finally, just when Harry thought maybe the old wizard would stay silent the rest of the trip, he spoke. His voice was quiet and raspy, but sure.

"If this is the path you want to take, I suppose I don't have the right to stop you. But you'll do this my way." He looked up, and his face was a mask of determination. "No more of this running off on your own, half-cocked. You'll learn what I teach and do as I say. If, and only if, I give the word, will you fight so much as a crooked street magician, understood?"

"Understood." Harry could scarcely believe what he was hearing. He hadn't truly thought Sirius would say yes. Not yet, at least. In his experience, it usually took days or weeks of effort to get an adult to bend on something as big as this. He wasn't about to jeopardize his good fortune by asking questions, though.

When they finally got back to the Tower, which sprouted a garage door with an air of what Harry swore was sullen resignation, they both ate a quick meal before Sirius ordered him to follow and stalked off. It had been an order, too, no doubt about it. Harry hadn't heard that tone from his godfather before, but he knew it well enough from the likes of Moody. Hastily stuffing the last of his pasty into his mouth, he got up and followed.

By the time he caught up, Sirius was tapping his foot impatiently. "Hurry up. If I'm going to train you, I'm going to do it properly. No more taking it easy."

That stole his attention from the remains of his meal, and an icy trickle of dread dripped down his spine. If the last few months had been "taking it easy" then he didn't want to know what working hard would look like.

Sirius made an instant beeline for the library. Harry followed, not sure what to expect. The Tower library made the Hogwarts library look like a small index catalog. Harry wasn't sure how big it was, or what all it contained, but Sirius had been quite adamant that he stick to the "explored" sections. He claimed wandering the shelves could be dangerous. Harry had thought he was joking until he watched him go on a book search armed with a broadsword and a miniature flamethrower. Both had returned well used. Given what they'd just discussed, Harry felt he should be prepared for anything.

They didn't stop at any of the shelves, though. Not even the ones that looked more like bomb shelters and had faint scorch marks on their steel walls. Instead, they wound up before a plain, dark wooden door Harry had never seen before.

"I had planned to hold off on this lesson for a while, yet," Sirius said. "But I think, given everything, it would be more useful now."

He pushed open the door and ushered Harry in. The room was as bare as could be. Four walls of unadorned stone surrounded an unmarked wood floor. An iron chandelier hung from the domed ceiling, and dozens of candles flared to life within it, illuminating the space. When they were both inside, Sirius shut the door with a click that echoed off the walls.

"This is one of the most well shielded places in the entire Tower," he began abruptly. "Nothing that happens inside this room will affect anything beyond the walls, and nothing outside will affect what we do here. Normally, it's meant for testing new or forgotten magics, hence why it's in the library. For now, though, it's the best place for what I'm about to teach you." His eyes pinned Harry in place like a butterfly to a corkboard. "What I'm about to teach you can be extremely dangerous, both to you and those around you. Until I say otherwise, you will only practice in this room and with my supervision. Am I clear?"

Harry nodded, wondering what could need such precautions. "I understand. What are you going to teach me?"

Sirius chuckled mirthlessly. "The basics. The real basics, now. It's time you learned what magic is."

"I know what magic is," Harry said automatically. He'd passed his OWLs after all. At least, he thought he had. He'd never learned his final scores.

"Ha. That's what I said when my predecessor first took me here. You know what spells are, sure, but not what magic is. What it really is." He clapped his hands, and the candles winked out, plunging them into pitch darkness. "You know how to use spells to cast magic. Simple. Limited. Useful, but it's like drawing with a stencil compared to painting a masterpiece. Magic is so, so much more than just that."

Light appeared, slowly at first, but it built until Harry could see as well as if they were outside at noon. It didn't have any visible origin or direction, though. The darkness just became steadily less obscure. What showed through, though, was not the bare stone room they'd been in earlier. Swirling gray and blue mists surrounded them on all sides. Even the floor was gone, though its solidity remained.

"Magic is the raw essence from which all of creation sprang," Sirius said. "In many ways, it is reality."

He waved a hand, and the mists condensed into stars. The stars exploded, re-condensed, and exploded again. Planets formed around some of them, little specks of solid matter whizzing about like mad. Galaxies clumped together by general consensus and danced about the cosmos. Beneath all of it, there was… something. A web? A sea? A skein of wondrous potential and awful power wrapping around every object, every event, every last moment of the universe. It shimmered invisibly in a thousand nameless colors and chimed a silent symphony with a thousand soundless bells. Harry stared at it, lost in its complexity. He felt he could look at it forever and never grow tired of the sight. It was the most beautiful and the most terrifying thing he'd ever seen.

"This is the power we touch. This is what you would defend." Sirius' voice was a distant echo, now on the very edge of his attention. "Look at it. One day, you may touch and shape it as you would clay, and reality along with it. Look at it."

Harry looked. He never wanted to stop looking. It consumed him and filled him and wrapped around his soul. Then, in the blink of an eye, it was gone. The barren room was back. He let out a breath he hadn't known he was holding. His body felt shaky and heavy, like something he wasn't used to. A sense of loss filled him, like some precious part of him had fled just out of sight. He sagged and gasped for breath, trying to remember what was going on.

"Look," Sirius said, "But not too much. That power is dangerous for mortals. It will be years before you can touch magic in that way and not lose yourself."

"Wha- what was that?" Harry gasped. "We were- that was-"

"It was a look at the world between worlds," Sirius said. "A sort of behind-the-scenes glimpse of the universe. What did you see?"

Harry blinked hard and shook his head, trying to rid himself of the memory of that… of that. That music and those colors and that grand linking ocean of magic. That web woven of light more solid than stone. It lingered in the back of his thoughts, beckoning and warning all at once.

"It was- I don't even know how to describe it." He tried to find words to put to what he'd experienced, but they all fell short. "I saw magic. I was magic. It was everywhere, inside everything and I could feel it."

Sirius looked taken aback for a moment, before his face smoothed into calm once more. "It took me months of practice to perceive that much. You've got a lot of potential, Harry. Maybe more than anyone I've ever taught."

In any other circumstance, Harry might have basked in the praise from his godfather. Now, though, he barely took notice. "What was all that about? Why show me… that?"

"A couple of reasons," Sirius said, as though he'd been expecting the question. "Like I said earlier, the spells you know are essentially shortcuts. They don't even scratch the surface of what magic can do. That's an oversimplification, and there's a spectrum to these things, but the point stands. What you learned at Hogwarts was a bunch of shortcuts. That said, they're damn useful shortcuts. You already know a good number of spells, and I plan to teach you a good number more. Even glimpsing the larger picture of what magic is can help you understand spellcraft better."

Harry nodded, but then he frowned. "I thought you said you'd teach me how to use-" he waved his hands to encompass the vastness of what he'd seen.

Sirius nodded. "I will. Don't get too excited, though. It takes years to learn how to manipulate the fundamental forces of the universe, and even then, don't expect to rearrange creation with a thought. Gods can do that sort of thing. Puny mortals like us have to tread with a bit more care." He pursed his lips and grimaced. "That's another reason I showed you this. I wanted to give you a concrete goal to strive towards. Trust me, you'll need it."

Harry looked at him quizzically.

"Learning magic, real magic, isn't always a pleasant experience," Sirius answered his silent question. His voice had gone grim. "I love you, but when I'm teaching you, I can't be your godfather. I can't afford to handle you with mittens anymore. Not if you want to learn enough to fight things like Faust."

Harry winced. 'Merlin, he's been going easy on me? It sure didn't feel like it.'

"I'm not trying to scare you," Sirius said. "And I'm probably making things sound worse than they'll actually be. I just want you to go into this with your eyes open."

"You know I'm not planning to go after someone like Faust right away, right?" Harry snapped. "I'm not stupid."

"I know you're not, so kindly watch your tone. You're plenty smart, but you're also the biggest trouble magnet I've ever seen. You could probably turn catching a mugger into infiltrating Intergang. I don't even want to think what'll happen the first time you face another practitioner."

"I'm not-" Harry started, but broke off with a grumble. Yes, he really was that bad. It wasn't his fault things just happened to him, but there was no denying they did happen. He wasn't sure what an 'Intergang' was, but now that he'd heard of it, no doubt it would try to kill him eventually.

'Wow, I really need to stop being so pessimistic,' he thought. 'Of course, that would be a lot easier if this and every other universe didn't seem to enjoy pissing in my cereal for laughs.'

"Alright, fine," he muttered. "I might, might, get in over my head sometimes. But that's all the more reason for you to teach me as much as you can."

Sirius rolled his eyes. "We'll see if you're still so eager when you start on polycyclical arithmancy. Still, time enough for that later. For now, I'm going to give you your first lesson in being a hero."

He waved his hand, and a golden portal opened beneath them. Harry dropped through with a yelp and wound up sprawled on his back, looking up at the sky. The smell of smoke hung heavy in the air, and when he got up to look around, he recognized Churchill. At least, he recognized the bits that were still standing. The rest barely even resembled a town at all. Between the smoke, the darkness, and the swarming demons, he hadn't realized the other night just how extensive the damage was. Now, in the unforgiving light of day, it looked like the set of a disaster movie. Where there had once been a bustling hive of shops and restaurants, there was now a pile after pile of scorched rubble. Here and there a facade still stood, but they were just cruel reminders of what once had been. Fires still smoldered in many of the buildings, and as he looked around, he saw the skeleton of the theater collapse into scrap. A haze of smoke clung to everything like mold. The damage looked worst on Main Street. Further from the center of town, there were more and more buildings left standing. A few had even escaped unscathed.

Worse than any property damage, though, were the corpses. Not many, thankfully. Harry counted only a dozen amongst all the destruction. Whatever Sirius had done to transport the citizens to safety, it worked fast. From the sheer number of imps Faust had summoned, it must have been less than thirty seconds before the people vanished, or else there would be more bodies. The ones there were, though, were bad enough. Bodies was a generous label. Offal was closer to the truth. The imps had ripped their victims to shreds. Flies were already gathering on the bloody piles of flesh. The smell was horrendous. It coated the tongue and throat like poisonous mud. Harry only just won the battle with his stomach to keep his lunch from making a reappearance. His hands clenched into fists at the sight.

"What are we doing here?" He growled. "If this supposed to scare me-"

"That's not what I'm trying to do," Sirius snapped. "Now shut up and listen, kid. I'm going to teach you something important here."

Harry winced and shut his mouth, but he didn't apologize. Their fight back in the hospital was still too fresh for that. Sirius frowned at him, but must have decided it was all he was going to get because he moved on without further delay.

"Being a hero isn't all about fighting. There's more to it than stopping bad guys like Faust. That's the part that makes the news, but your biggest duty will just be to help people." He gestured at the surrounding devastation. "A lot of the time, that means fixing stuff like this. Maybe it'll be natural disasters, maybe the aftermath of a big fight, maybe something else altogether. It doesn't matter. If you can't do more than fight bad guys, you're not a hero. You're just a vigilante."

"So… we're going to fix the town?" Harry asked. "What about all the people?"

"We're going to fix the town," Sirius confirmed. "As for the people, they're in limbo. My spell suspended them outside of normal time and space. I've already got the League explaining what happened here to the media and the government. They'll leave us out of it. Zatara will get most of the credit. He'd be here later to help with cleanup, but I thought this was a good opportunity for you to learn. Once we're done, I'll put everyone back. Now, let's get on with it. We'll start with the fires."

Putting the town back together proved even more exhausting than fighting the imps had been. There were a thousand and one things that needed doing, from extinguishing the remaining fires to regrading the warped landscape to sealing the cracks in the sewers. Sirius seemed content to let him handle most of the spellwork, with his own contributions mainly in the form of advice and guidance. Once in a while he'd demonstrate a particular spell or correct Harry's form, but he only stepped in to actually help with the bigger tasks, like reassembling the buildings. Not all of them were salvageable, unfortunately. Neither he nor Sirius were structural engineers, and several of the buildings had foundations too damaged for them to safely restore. Others simply resisted any attempts at repair, even when the damage appeared less severe.

"It's the dark magic Faust and those imps use," Sirius explained. "It disrupts patterns and leaves a kind of residue. Once something's been destroyed with dark enough magic, you can't fix it. Only rebuild it from scratch."

It took the rest of the day and a good part of the next, but in the end they got a little over half of the buildings restored fully. Most of the others would need more mundane repairs to replace lost materials. A few remained as rubble, though. Harry supposed it would be too easy for a battle with someone like Faust to leave no lasting mark. As for the bodies, Sirius gathered what remains he could and set them aside for the police to identify later. Harry was more than happy to leave that grim task to his godfather.

Finally, just as the afternoon was flirting with the evening, Sirius declared they'd done as much as they could, and released his spell. The people didn't so much reappear as they slotted neatly back into spaces Harry hadn't even noticed. One moment they were absent, the next they had never not been there. It was a disorienting experience and yet another reminder of the gulf in skill between himself and his godfather. He watched from where he was leaning against a tree, too exhausted to even stand, as throngs of confused townsfolk wandered around, embracing each other and wondering at the state of their town. More than a few tears fell as people beheld the remnants of their homes or livelihood. Harry winced at the sight of a father and son weeping over the ashes of their family home before Sirius helped him to his feet.

"We should have done more," he wheezed. Sirius followed his gaze and sighed.

"We did what we could, Harry. You can't make everything perfect for everyone. When monsters like Faust come crawling out of their holes, there's always going to be casualties. But look at it another way." He pointed at one group after another marveling over their restored homes and businesses, and others comforting the less fortunate and gently shepherding them to those houses still intact. "We made things better. That's all you can do, sometimes. I know it doesn't feel like it, but trust me, it's enough. If you just do that often enough, for enough people, then those monsters can't ever win."

Harry wasn't sure if he had the energy to speak, so he just nodded. Sirius smiled and squeezed his shoulder.

"You did good work, Harry. Now let's get back to the Tower. We both need rest. Tomorrow, the hard stuff starts."

"This… wasn't… the hard stuff?" Harry asked, eyes wide. Sirius just threw back his head and cackled.

Harry wanted to moan, wanted to cringe and complain that his godfather was a madman and a sadist, but he couldn't. Despite the sweat pouring down his face and the tremors wracking his legs, he was smiling from ear to ear. For the first time since he'd arrived in this strange new world, he had a path.

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If Harry had thought his lessons had been hard before, they were nothing compared to now. Not even studying for the OWLs could compare to this, and he'd had Hermione Granger as a study partner. He didn't know if Sirius was trying to wear him down to where he gave up on his goal, or if he was simply determined to teach him everything there was to know as quickly as possible. If it was the former, then his godfather would be in for a disappointment. Every day spent learning about the difference between thaumaturgic, evocative, and ritual magic, every hour spent working out arcane formulae or practicing his Latin and Greek, every headache-inducing minute spent improving his Occlumency was just another day, another hour, another minute closer to the day he made his new dream a reality.

Sirius had been right about progress being slow, though. It took him a week of practice just to light a candle flame purely through manipulating energy rather than casting a proper spell. Reaching for magic without a wand felt like trying to fly a broom with his lips. Sirius was a relentless and uncompromising teacher though, and not a single lesson went by but that Harry could perform to his satisfaction. Grueling though it may have been, it was paying off. Even when he cast the spells he'd learned at Hogwarts, they felt different. Easier. More controllable. More flexible.

"You're learning the true limits of your spells," Sirius had told him when he mentioned it. "They're rigid, but not wholly inflexible. With enough time, you'll find a happy medium between the style Hogwarts taught and pure, intuitive manipulation. For now, though, why is my candle still not lit?"

On top of the ever more exhausting magical learning, Sirius refused to let him slack off on his muggle education. History, maths, science, grammar, literature, Latin, Greek all took up room in his already cramped schedule. He sometimes felt as if his brain were about to melt, but Occlumency came to his aid. He couldn't yet defend his mind against a determined attacker, at least not one with any skill or power, but the mental discipline that formed the basis of the practice served in academics as well as psychic combat.

It was a hard won mental discipline, though. He'd never thought meditation could be difficult, but Sirius had proved him wrong. Of course, he wasn't sure it could still be called meditation when he was solving quadratic equations while having to ignore sitting in a blizzard. Or in pouring rain. Or in the depths of a volcano. Sirius' creativity knew no bounds. When he tried to call him on it, though, his godfather just looked at him with the utmost seriousness and told him they'd barely even scratched the surface of his training.

"Even the most run-of-the-mill wizard needs extraordinary self-discipline and fortitude," he said. "As for what you're planning… You'll need to walk barefoot through hell if you want to pull this off." Harry gulped and returned to ignoring the blazing desert sun overhead as he copied out the Fibonacci sequence backwards from memory.

Despite the downright frenetic pace of his lessons, every few days Sirius would take him on a trip out of the Tower to get what he called "practical experience". The exact nature of the field trips varied, but they always involved putting what Sirius had taught him to use as a hero. One time, Sirius had Harry divert a flash flood in Arizona away from a crowded campground. Another time, he helped find and rescue a fishing boat that had gotten caught in a storm on Lake Michigan. A third time, Harry had to track down a murderer using the blood he'd left on his knife. As a reward for performing the tracking spell in record time, Sirius had even let him capture the man and deliver him to the police. Sure, it had only involved a Stunner to the back of the head from the cover of the Cloak, but the exhilaration of catching his first real criminal wasn't something Harry thought he'd ever forget.

For all the new lessons, the excursions, the increased training, and the general business of their lives, one thing didn't change. He may have been an unforgiving slave driver of a teacher, but Sirius still made time for them to be family. After three weeks of the most intense mental labor he'd ever gone through, it was a relief when Sirius finally broached a topic at lunch that wasn't a new lesson. In celebration of him catching and banishing a particularly mean-spirited gremlin from Heathrow, Sirius had taken him to a diner in town. Between bites of delicious cheeseburger and even more delicious steak fries, Harry almost missed what his godfather was saying.

"Huh?" He asked.

Sirius rolled his eyes. "You'd think I don't feed you, the way you're cramming that down your gullet."

Harry snorted and threw a fry at his face. Sirius caught it out of the air like a dog and practically inhaled it. "Mmm. Those are good."

"Do you do tricks, too?" Harry asked in a deadpan and then ducked to avoid the wadded up napkin flying towards his head.

"Cheeky brat. Pay attention. This is serious." His godfather raised a warning finger when he went to open his mouth. "Don't even try it. That's my joke. No one else gets to make it but me."

Now it was Harry's turn to roll his eyes. Sirius had no right whatsoever to dictate good humor. The man was a walking collection of terrible puns and worse pop culture references. That said, he wasn't joking now, and the look on his face was enough to make Harry pay close attention.

"Oh, you listening now? I said, seeing as you're making such excellent progress, I thought it was time I introduced you to the people you want to work with." There was a touch of pain in his eyes when he mentioned Harry was doing well in his training, but more even pride.

Harry stared at him for a moment while he tried to figure out who Sirius was talking about. There was only one group of his godfather's friends he could think of that he would work with in the future, but- no. Surely not? It couldn't be, could it?

"Wait, are you talking about the Justice League?" Sirius nodded with a mouthful of stew and Harry's eyes bulged. "The actual Justice League? But… why do they want to meet me? How do they even know about me?"

He'd heard of the Justice League, of course. There probably wasn't anyone in the world who hadn't. He'd even followed their various battles on the news. It had been part of what inspired him to take up the fight himself. Sirius had mostly worked with their predecessors, the JSA, but he'd still shared plenty of stories of the various members of the modern League. Harry had listened with no small amount of awe, and he hadn't been able to help but wonder how different his own world might have been if a few more people had been willing to sidestep the Ministry and work together for the common good.

"Not the whole League, but yes, a few of them want to meet you. Don't forget, you've already met one of them," Sirius said. "Red told them about you, and half of them have been on my arse about meeting you ever since." He smirked when he saw Harry's stunned expression. "Remember, I've been doing this longer than any of them, retired or not. They know me, and when I told them about your… decision, they started pestering me worse than ever. I figured it would be best to arrange a meeting before they try to invade the Tower. Besides, you spend too much time here with just me. It'll be good for you to meet some new people."

"So- I- but-" Harry couldn't find the words. He wasn't sure how he felt about this. It was good, it was, but at the same time… He just didn't know. Naturally, from the chaotic mess of his thoughts, his brain picked the dumbest thing it could have and shuttled it into his mouth.

"I know plenty of people."

Sirius snorted. "Pull the other one, kid. You're practically a hermit. Ever since you arrived, you've barely spoken to anyone other than me. It's not good for you."

There was nothing he could really say against that, which just made it all the more irritating. He knew he was isolating himself. He knew he was avoiding making new friends. He knew it was unhealthy. He just couldn't bring himself to care. Making new friends meant admitting to himself Ron and Hermione were gone, and he couldn't do that. It would hurt too much. Admitting that to himself was hard enough, though. There was no way in any hell he was having this conversation with Sirius right now. So, in the fine traditions of teenagers everywhere, he tried to change the subject. In the fine tradition of the Marauders, he did so by flinging another fry at his godfather. Just as with the last one, Sirius caught it in his mouth. This time, though, he didn't get the delicious taste of salty potato.

"Errrggghh," he groaned with a full body shudder. "Wha' di' 'ou- de na'kin?"

Harry grinned. Casting a glamour on the wadded napkin without Sirius noticing hadn't been easy, but the look on his face when he bit into a crumpled bit of greasy paper had been priceless.

"Serves you right, old man."

Sirius spluttered around a mouthful of paper mush. "Fow wha'?"

Harry shrugged. "Oh, I'm sure there's something."

Sirius finally managed to spit out the remains of the napkin and smacked his lips dramatically. "Just for that, you'll be showing me how much progress you've made with your shield spells. And you're still meeting the League. No weaseling out of it. I've let you stay cooped up for too long already. Time to rejoin the world. Since you won't talk to normal people, you may as well spend time with that bunch of lunatics. You'll fit right in."

Harry just nodded and went back to his burger. What was the point in trying to argue with the truth?

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

September 12, 09:28

Hall of Justice, Washington D.C.

Harry had seen the Hall of Justice countless times, both on the news and in the papers. It was as iconic a building in America as the White House or the Capitol. There was a big difference between pictures and real life, though. Unfortunately, he wouldn't be seeing the famous Hall from the outside today. Sirius technically had access to the building as a former JSA member, but neither of them were about to marching in the front door. Instead, Sirius met him in the parlor with a bag of familiar green powder in his hands.

"Floo powder?" He asked. "There's a Floo network here?"

"Set it up myself," Sirius said with a proud nod. "It's not very big, mind. Maybe a dozen fireplaces. It's convenient, though, and more secure than teleporting or portals. I also made it a bit more comfortable than the one back home."

Harry raised an eyebrow at that. Magical travel back home had been, almost without exception, deeply unpleasant. Though he'd never Apparated until he'd come to this world, Fred and George had regaled him with tales of how uncomfortable it had been. Flop travel had been better than Portkeys, but still far from pleasant. If Sirius had actually managed to remedy that, he would get the man a present. A small one, though. Sirius hadn't gone easy when he'd put his shields to the test, and parts of him still ached from the lesson. It had taken him an hour to regrow his eyebrows.

Sirius took a handful of the coarse powder and tossed it into the crackling fireplace. Instantly, the fire flared green. "After you."

Harry stepped into the emerald fire and, careful not to inhale any ash this time, called out his destination.

"Hall of Justice."

Sirius hadn't been joking. He really had made it, if not comfortable, then at least bearable. Harry felt as if he were moving backwards at tremendous speed, but there was none of the awful spinning and flickering lights he'd come to expect from Floo travel. There was nothing around him except green fire and the roar of wind in his ears. It was more akin to flying on a broom than anything else. He really did owe Sirius a present.

As quickly as it had begun, his journey ended. The rush of travel slowed to a stop, the green flames vanished, and he was standing in a different fireplace. Past the brickwork, he could see a large, well lit, modern looking room. It was the occupants of the room that captured his attention, though. He'd seen all of them before, of course. Their pictures made the news almost every day. Superman, Batman, Wonder Woman, Aquaman, and Zatara were just as impressive in real life as on TV. More impressive, in fact, largely due to how they were all glaring right at him, fists and weapons raised, obviously ready to fight.

"Hold, intruder," Aquaman said. The weight of his command hit Harry like a brick. It was the command of someone used to instant and unquestioning obedience. "Identify yourself."

Harry raised his hands in surrender and tried to stammer out an explanation. "I- uh-"

Whatever he'd been about to say vanished when the fire flared again. Instinctively, he stepped forward, but it was too late. Sirius slammed into his back and sent both of them sprawling. All the air left his lungs in a rush, and he suddenly knew exactly what the floor of the Hall of Justice tasted like.

"What in the blazes- Harry? Clear the way, why don't you?"

"Sirius?" Harry couldn't see who spoke from his position face down on the floor, but it sounded like Wonder Woman. A second later, his godfather's weight vanished from his back and he turned over, gasping for air. A powerful hand grabbed his shoulder and hauled him to his feet.

"Wha-"

"Sorry about that," Sirius said sheepishly as he took in the wary heroes. "I may have… accidentally… forgot to tell the League I hooked the Hall up to the Floo network."

Harry rounded on the man, eyes wide. "You what?"

Sirius shrugged. "My bad?"

That did it. He didn't deserve a gift. No, Harry was going to set his godfather's hair on fire. "You prat! How could you be so-"

"Ahem." A woman's cough interrupted his bidding rant, and he turned to find Wonder Woman herself looking at them with barely concealed amusement. "Perhaps you could forbear from giving Sirius the thrashing he so richly deserves. We would greet you."

He blinked dumbly. His tongue felt glued to the roof of his mouth. Words. What were words? He swallowed hard and forced his mouth to make noises. "I- er. That is, I'm Harry Potter. Nice to meet you."

She smiled a little wider and clapped him on the shoulder. "Well met, Harry Potter. I am Diana of Themyscira, known best in man's world as Wonder Woman. Sirius has spoken of you many times. Welcome to the Hall of Justice."

OoOoOoOoOoOoO

First, to those of you who were hoping to see Kent Nelson appear in this story, I'm sorry to disappoint you. He's very dead, and he won't be coming back. I liked his character in the show, but with Sirius taking the role of wise(ish) old mentor and former Doctor Fate, there was just no place for him.

As for the Sirius showing Harry the "backstage" of the multiverse, I'm trying to reconcile DC's insane magic systems. You have characters like John Constantine and Felix Faust, who use spells and ingredients to cast magic. Then you have characters like Doctor Fate and the Phantom Stranger, who do it as an act of will. Then, just to muddy the waters, you have the likes of Zatanna and Circe, who can do both. That's not even mentioning Alan Scott and the monkey wrench his backstory throws in the works, or whatever the hell Raven's powers should count as. That all works fine for characters with separate comic runs who barely ever interact, but it won't do for this story. As such, if you think I'm not being faithful to certain characters' power levels or power mechanics, it's probably intentional. The magical side of DC is going to be central to a lot of this story, so I have to bend those characters into a consistent power scale, all without making the rest of DC irrelevant.

I went back and forth on whether or not Harry should meet the League before the 4th of July. Ultimately, I decided he should. YJ has a sense of superhero community no other show has captured. Right from the start, the heroes know each other and have a history. Given that Sirius has been in the hero game for over a century, he would know most if not all the League members. Given that he is adorably proud of his godson, he would have bragged about him at every opportunity. It made sense to me that at least some Leaguers would want to meet Harry. There's more to it than that, but you'll find out what in the next chapter.