As you can see, this is a Harry Potter/Justice League crossover. The format of Justice League it will primarily follow will be the cartoon from the early 2000s, because that was how I was introduced to the source material. It, in part, is a remake of my old fic The Chaotic Nature of Life. I left this site shortly after beginning that fic, but I still believe it was a sound idea so here's a more fleshed out version. There are differences, primarily in that the episode-to-episode plot will be less consistent/formulaic and instead will depend on how well this (OOC) Harry would fit into the plot. Other than that, the Universe and Characters will be explored, sometimes in original-ish plots, sometimes in comic-born plots. One in particular will stand out to most people as it was quite recently made into an animated film (even it was a tad disappointing given how good most of DC's animated stuff is) but that won't be for a few chapters yet.
There's a decent amount written for this fic, so updates should be relatively frequent for the next month or two. After that, I can't say for sure: I work full time, and am working on original written work on top of that so my free time is somewhat scarce.
And, just as a warning, this will most likely be a Multi-pairing fic. Harry will probably be with a few girls (eventually) at the same time. At some point I intend to post my reasoning for that on my Author's page but, in short, there is a place for Multi Pairings, and that place is here. Authors on this site are not paid for what they do, so why should they have to compromise what they wish to write so long as the story will not (necessarily) suffer for it? I'm writing this (partially) to show my appreciation for the characters in the DC universe, and don't particularly want to choose which of them to pair Harry with. That being said, I fully intend to flesh out these relationships when I get to that part, because I do not want any part of my work to be (for lack of a better word) cheap.
I hope you enjoy this story. I own nothing of either Harry Potter or the DC Universe. Know that Authors' notes of any length, let alone this bulk, will be a rarity.
The wild eyed ancient man, in a youthful body, wiped the blood from his mouth as the heart raced in his chest. Adrenaline coursed through his system, and he would have to wait for it to leave before he could make a decision more complex than fight or flight. Neither of them would be ideal to resolve his current problem, as the fallen King's people stared up at his killer.
As Harry's body slowly calmed, his eyes moved over the crowd. Some of the people had expressions of gratitude, bordering on reverence, for the man who had freed them from a tyrant,. But others did not. The soldiers he had fought for the past months, in particular, looked furious at what he had done, and more than a few had their weapons already in hand.
Harry, standing above them, felt his magic respond to the perceived threat by flowing fast through his veins. It was well and truly ready to spring forth and wreak havoc amongst those who would hurt him, and that was an option Harry was considering. With the amount of blood coating his hands after the previous months, what difference would another handful of lives make?
His first move was reactive, rather than one born of intent. He felt the air shift behind him, and the exhalation of a soldier as he took a third step and threw his spear into the air. Harry turned, his hand rising, and the spear stopped in mid air. With a thought, his green eyes burned bright, and fire leapt onto the head of the weapon as the soldier turned on his heel and shoved a middle-aged woman out of his way. The man was intelligent enough to realise the folly of his mistake. Even if it had occurred to him too late to make a difference.
The spear shot through the air, and a streak of orange hung in the air behind it as it found its mark.
The soldier, a young man in the customary green overalls of Harry's enemy, fell to his knees as his torso was punctured. He died quickly, and fell forwards. The spear's fire was snuffed out along with the life of the man it had killed, and with that pandemonium broke loose.
Harry leapt into the air from the platform on which the King had been making his speech, and landed with his foot on the back of a soldier. His heel rose and fell, grinding the man's ribs to dust, as Harry conjured and tossed a blade into the crowd. It found his target, and the uniformed man's sprint carried him forwards with a knife in his throat and no light in his eyes. The sword in his hand cut a long, shallow wound into an old man who had not been fast enough to get out of the dead man's way, and a shout greeted the wound as the old man stumbled away and into the path of another soldier, who shoved him aside and to the ground.
Harry didn't notice what became of the old man next, as another blade appeared in his hand and flew to greet the approaching soldier. Landing in the man's shoulder, the effect was not so instantaneous as those delivered to any of the previous enemies Harry had dealt with. The man gave an infuriated roar, as he raised the sword to prepare a blow to the committer of regicide. It was followed by another yell, this one of agony, as electricity coursed through his body.
As the smell of singed meat reached him, Harry was moving past the electrocuted man with a third knife in hand. Nothing special, an entirely disposable blade. Another yell announced the presence of an enemy, and Harry stepped aside as the young man, barely more than a boy, tried to run him through. He seized the wrist, and his knife ran along the sleeve covering his forearm, through the tendons below. The green material turned red, and Harry flung the boy aside. He felt a spark of mild surprise as a sword hacked into the young soldier's neck, and put it aside as he sent a bolt of white energy into the face of another soldier. The man fell asleep, never to awaken again, and Harry planted a foot in his chest to send the still-standing body into four others.
He followed, and his sharp blade opened the first man's throat with a single, quick motion. Harry left the knife in the second man's skull, and his knuckles glowed a pale white with the banishing charm as they connected with the third's temple. He was flung onto the fourth man, and the sword in his hand. The man who had just killed his ally, and was now under the dying man, kicked his friend off and tried to rise to his feet.
A piercing curse found the centre of his forehead, and the man's body fell limp as Harry created another knife and caught an approaching soldier in an imitation of an embrace, with the blade buried in the man's gut.
Harry made no move on the next man to make an attempt on him, as the soldier's legs were swept from under him. The girl who had done as much imitated the yell that many of the men gave in an effort to intimidate, and the falsetto sound stood out amongst the clamour of battle as she plunged a spear into the downed man's chest. It was a flaw that Harry had noted many times, that they wore vests made to combat gunshots when they fought singularly with medieval weaponry. He had seen a handful only a handful of guns in his time here, and plate armour would have done more against swords and spears and knives by far.
The girl screamed again, as she charged another soldier. Unfortunately, this one was prepared, and avoided the blow easily. As his sword cut into the girl's shoulder, a cutting curse opened his back and severed the man's spine. Blood hit the floor moments before its owner.
Harry caught his next attacker by both wrists, mentally applauding the fact that the man held two swords in an attempt to catch him off guard. Harry pulled the man towards him, and caught the man's throat in his teeth. Tearing a chunk away, he drew back and headbutted the man. When the wizard released the wrists in his grasp, the man let his blades fall to the mud, clutching his throat instead, and dropped to the ground himself. His foot crushed the man's skull, and Harry conjured a larger blade as he fell into a crouch and swung the machete.
The soldier in a more ornate uniform, representing that he was of higher rank, screamed as the blade passed through his ankle with virtually no resistance. It was sharper than could be achieved by natural means, and the second foot was likewise removed from the main body of the general. He seemed to hang in the air for a moment before falling to the earth next to his still-stood lower legs. The man kept a hold of his sword, though, in order to put up a defiant fight against the wizard before dying.
Even as Harry leapt on the man, a severing charm removed the hand from his wrist and the sword from consideration.
Blood bubbled through the man's lips as Harry drove the blade into his lung. And then again, into his gut, and again and again until the man was long dead. Harry snarled, as he let the blade, slick from blood, remain buried in the general's gut. He stood, and found nobody else attacking, much to his surprise.
Then, the magical with a mane of black hair, matted with blood, looked at the area around him. By now, all of the soldiers should have converged on him. And there were hundreds of them present for their leader's speech.
Instead, they seemed to have found opposition in the form of the thousands of regular civilians in the area. And in some of their own that had turned against those they had previously fought with side by side.
The King had been a sadist and tyrant, and Harry's actions had given them the courage to stand against the soldiers who had been equally responsible for the pain that had plagued this land.
Harry felt a rope, invisible to the human eye, and his as well, wrap around his chest and under his armpits. He dropped a newly summoned knife, and prepared himself. The curse word was closer to a growl, and Harry closed his eyes.
The deity on the other end of this rope tugged, and Harry was pulled from the world he had been confined to for the past half-year.