Wow a lot of positive reviews for the first chapter. I hope I can keep this up. My main goal was just to make a fic that was original as possible. This chapter is going to skip ahead five years to when he first starts throwing arrows. Seeing as how the real green arrow spent five years on his little island hell. Now the reason Harry will have no ability to use most of his magic in battle will be explained soon. You can thank a reviewer by the name of Naruchan84 for giving me the idea of magical arrows along with his trick ones. It's basically how I'm going to get over his handicap. Now I am going to admit a serious flaw in my writing skills. I cannot describe a person for the life of me. I am decent with made up characters but the pre-established ones escape me. Thus for any character like Bruce Wayne of Lucius Fox is mentioned in this story. They will be the incarnations in the dark knight series. Let's face it there is not a living sole they could have casted better for anyone in those movies. So when I introduce them I won't go into that much of a description sadly. Just imagine those actors. Sorry for that but honestly I don't think I can do them justice.
Lastly I had so many ideas on were to take this story. My first was that he would just skip to being the Arrow with no real explanation. Right down to a list of major rouges and allies from the JLA and Avengers to back him up. Then some mojo with the goblet would transport him to compete in the tournament, with all the craziness of his parents and countless manipulators all around. Then I saw the new arrow series and the dark knight movies and knew this was not the way to go. So it took me awhile but I finally figured out where to take this. So I hope you all enjoy the story.
Five years since the fateful announcement by Dumbledore.
Five years, it had been five long years since they had learned their son Harry was alive. Taken by the man they had trusted with their very lives once. Now they would kill him if he ever showed his face to them again. Since they learned he was alive they had spent the past five years searching for their son. Beginning at the very place Dumbledore had left him on a doorstep in the middle of the night. To their horror and shock the Dursleys had gone right to dumping their child in a dumpster. Only to be apprehended and sent to prison with no mercy. In the following months authorities had sought them to confirm the story of them leaving their son on the Dursley's doorstep. The only clue that his name was even Harry was the short note that had been pinned on his blanket. Telling the Dursleys to keep little Harry humble by any means necessary. That they would be forgiven for anything they did as long as it meant keeping little Harry humble. But the couple at the time did not exist in the muggle world. The last trace of Lily in any form had been when she had stopped going to mundane schools and gone to Hogwarts. James had never been registered in any form with the government as well. The last Potter formally registered with the government as a citizen had been his great grandfather who fought in the First World War. Thus it was impossible to contact them at the time. So Harry had been put in the adoption program. The police assuming Vernon had just snatched the child randomly and sought to abandon him out of fear of being caught. The so called note was then considered a forgery and thrown out of court. He was given a random name and sent on his way. The fact that Petunia and Vernon Dursley were in prison for the next twenty odd years for trying to murder their son brought little comfort to them, it had only made Dumbledore's reputation take another blow. For these were the kind of people he left an infant on the doorstep of. To their dismay Harry had been sent over to America due to a surge in orphanages being destroyed from Voldemort's attacks. Attacks that had been blamed on a growing group of people called the Brotherhood of mutants. He had been lost in the system and they had spent all their time trying to track him down, all the while dealing with the further betrayals that had been discovered in their search for their son, betrayals that had shaken the two to their very souls. But they would solder on and find their son. No matter how long it took no matter how far they had to go. They would not stop till they found their son.
At first they had tried magical means to locate their son. Only to learn Dumbledore had placed highly illegal and dangerous blood magic bindings on his magic, rendering him nothing short of a mortal human. The bindings also made detecting him with any spell all but impossible unless he was within close range of the spell. Only the fact the potters had given Dumbledore the blood for the ritual to be used for the wards of the former home kept him out of prison. A loophole in the ancient law that was swiftly fixed soon after it had saved the old fool from prison. It was only the fact he needed to be out of prison himself to find their son that the couple hadn't killed the man when he tried to act ashamed of their reaction to his protection of Harry. Claiming that his immense magic had to be bound for his own good or he may become dark. He had then gone on to try and claim all guardianship rights to their son then and there, only for the old manipulator to be all but thrown out of the courtroom by the tribunal judges. But still he tried to get the couple to sign over their rights to their missing son. Claiming their reaction was unfit for parents of the now sought after Boy who lived. The words they said to him after that would forever haunt those that had been in earshot. Along with burning any bridge that may still remain with the former chief warlock. With no magical means to locate their son they had to swiftly learn the hell that was red tape and lunacy that was the mundane government. The first and hardest part was to prove not only that they existed but that they were even British citizens. A full year later they had been told what had happened to their son and were allowed to seek him out. It was slow and tedious but they were making progress, for their search had finally born genuine fruit as they found their best clue yet on their son's location.
In the south end of London was a simple Loft style apartment. Easily able to fit six people it was home to only two people the Potters. They had moved here after their home in Godric's Hollow had been all but destroyed. The ruins and their new home had been placed under every ward and protective charm known to magic. The memories too great to stand living there they had moved into a completely muggle area. The nearest wizard was more than twenty miles away. In the time since they had learned of their son's survival they had turned an entire room into a makeshift war room. Every scrap and clue about him was kept there. Every lead and clue painstakingly organized. Not even the smallest hint or possible aide was left out. At first glance it looked like chaotic messes pinned to the wall. But on closer glance one could see the order the pattern in it all. It was in this room that James Potter sat at his desk in deep thought. The massive desk had been covered in news articles about the Dursley's arrest and trial, along with clippings about the major events of the last five years. Starting with the fallout of Dumbledore from his positions to the arrest of known Death eaters searching for his son it was all there. No longer would they stand by and just let the world pass them by. Or let the greedy and the corrupt use their names to hurt the innocent. Too late they learned of the many laws passed due to their so called support that they had never heard of until they had been made law, many of them laws made by the master manipulator himself to forward his own demented vision of the magical world. Resting back into the chair James looked tired and worn. His hair was going prematurely grey as small wrinkles could be seen around his eyes. His trademark glasses were resting on an article about his former brother in all but blood Sirius Black. Like the rest of the wizarding world he had believed he had betrayed them to Voldemort. The grief and pain of losing his son had blinded him to the possibility that he had been innocent. He had known Sirius was not the secret keeper but had believed Dumbledore when he said Sirius had sold them out. Never again would he trust a thing that monster said to him. Last year he had broken out of Azkaban prison and proven his innocence, by walking strait into the ministry with a stunned Peter Pettigrew in his wake. Said rat had been hiding with the Weasley family all these years. Knowing full well his feud with them would prevent him from seeing him in his animagus form. Upon his arrival Dumbledore had tried to have Peter fried and released without a single explanation. Only a small slip of the tongue revealed he had known the death eater had been hiding in his school for years. The fact it had been Dumbledore that tried to have his retrial stopped only made his innocence all the clearer. All his attempts to contact his oldest friend and explain why he had failed to help him had proven fruitless. The man had seemingly disappeared from the face of the earth. He feared what the prison had done to his friend and what he had become. If he was still the man that would have died to protect him or would he become a man who would gladly drive the knife in his back.
It was that event that had cost the headmaster his last position as headmaster of Hogwarts. For he had knowingly allowed a dangerous Death eater into the school filled with unsuspecting children. His only defense was that Peter had said he had seen the error of his ways and was sorry for what he did. The court took this into account when the rat escaped by killing several Aurors and taken a young woman and her daughter hostage. The young woman was found tortured to death two weeks later. Her daughter Luna would never be the same again. There was now a kill on sight order out for the rat of a man. It had been the final in a long series of blows to the former headmaster. Who was now wanted as well for endangering countless citizens with his delusions of grandeur. Now the man was officially powerless but still trying to find his son. The grand manipulator and sociopath had many supporters who still believed he was the greatest hope for the world, people who would gladly do the man's dirty work to make him seem spotless. He knew it was a race and if Dumbledore found him first it would be a disaster. He may somehow use his son to reclaim all his old positions. Make the people forget it was his fault his boy was lost in who knows where. Sad as he was to admit this the people of wizarding Britain were indeed gullible enough to believe it. With a tired sigh he went back to work trying to piece together the clues to his son's location. So far he had tracked him down to three possible orphanages all three were in the most notorious city in the world Gotham. The fact even he had heard of Gotham made him hope for a miracle and his son was safe and happy. Yet it may have been his father's intuition that told him he was in for a shock when he found his boy.
Discovering this Lily had gone ahead to prepare for their search. She was at the moment flying across the Atlantic to meet with child welfare agents and begin searching the records. He would soon follow after he finished packing everything they would need. Along with destroying anything that may fall into the hands of Dumbledore or his still loyal followers that believed he was the next merlin. James would be damned if it was a scrap of paper he left that gave him the key to divining his location. As he worked he had no idea he was being watched by none other than the rat king of traitors himself. Said rat was currently in a medium air duct watching the man he had sold out years ago. His plan was to use the information he gathered here and get back into the graces of his so called masters. The cowardly rat had dedicated his life to being the yes man of the most powerful for protection. He started in school by following James potter, the so called prince of Hogwarts around like a lost puppy. It had worked so well that the man genuinely thought he was a friend. Then he had moved onto the real big fish Dumbledore and Voldemort. He did things for both men that would have him executed on the spot. The latest was the interrogation of the recently deceased Gwen Lovegood, cousin to the werewolf Fenrir Greyback himself. The ministry thought it was a simple hostage taking but Dumbledore had wanted to know about her research into curing werewolves. The former headmaster had feared she had made a breakthrough that could forever end the werewolf oppression. Sadly she had held strong long enough for her to break and died from her injuries and he couldn't deliver the information to get back into his good graces. But in his sorrow he had found a new hope for his rat hide. Already he had overheard enough to give both his masters a good lead on the wayward Potter. But first he had to find out just were his second master was. The rat was no fool he was there that night and saw his master survive as a wraith. All he had to do was find him and get back into his good graces. A simple matter with all the dirt on Dumbledore he had. He had heard the rumors and decided to head to Albania. He just hoped his masters would protect him from the Potters wrath once he found them.
Gotham City Wayne enterprises Building the next day.
Riding in an elevator to the top floor of the world famous Wayne tower was a young man of sixteen. His name was Oliver Queen adopted son of the late William and Margaret Queen. His parents had been murdered right in front of him five years prior and his life had never been the same since. He had dedicated his whole life to avenging not only them but every innocent hurt and murdered in Gotham city by the rich and corrupt. In his quest he had learned multiple martial arts and trained his body to its peak. Standing at just over five feet tall he was a sight to behold. Large yet lean muscle showed under his simple black t shirt jeans. The man was clearly not someone to pick a fight with, for he radiated an aura of power that was hard to explain. Oliver knew he was faster and much stronger than the average person. The secret to the cause of his super human physique was one he kept as secret as possible. Not to protect himself but the person he owns his guidance and life to. He had sworn never to become like the people who bled the people of the city dry. He would only ware expensive clothes if it meant putting food in people's homes. His black hair was cut short showing off his blazing green eyes. His scar had been surgically removed a year ago. Officially it was a simple cosmetic choice. Unofficially it was to remove a potential mark if someone saw him on his mission. Leaving his brow completely unmarred. At the same time he trained his mind for any possible event he would face in his upcoming war on crime. A war he was planning to start soon enough. It was a plan the young man had been working on for years and he had no intention of stopping anytime soon. With focused determined eyes he waited for the elevator to reach the top floor. There he would meet with his godfather who had taken him in when his parents died Bruce Wayne, head of the only remaining company in Gotham that truly helped the people without any sinister motive. When his parents had been murdered Bruce had been given control of Queen Industries in his parents will. On the sole condition that every last charity and organization be left intact. The stocks went to their son Oliver along with all their possessions. It was with his father's legacy he would arm himself for his war. But first he had to get it, thus his meeting with his godfather. The ride up took four long minutes in an express elevator. As he waited he thought back to when his path came across the person who would guide him to his destiny. It may have only been two years but it felt like a lifetime.
Two years ago suicide slums.
In the city of Gotham there was one place consisting of thirty square city blocks that was considered a no man's land. A place the cops never go and the criminals rule. It had earned the nick name suicide slums from mob boss Victor the wolf Howlett. The first true mob boss of Gotham he ruled the old slums for thirty years before his second in command Rupert Thorne killed him. He had been heard telling a cop that entering those slums was suicide. From that day on it had earned the nickname Suicide slums. The buildings were in deceptively good condition as many housed drug labs and other illegal operations. It was here that many criminals came to learn the crafts that would make them kings in this city of crime and greed. The many hard working poor families that had no choice but to call this place home were the prisoners of the mob bosses. For if the police tried to make a move it would be a massacre for all those involved. It was here that violence and blood was the currency. It was in these cruel unforgiving streets that a young man dressed as one of the countless homeless was on the hunt. Said young man was well known threw out the city as Oliver Queen the son of the late Queens. Since that terrible day he had sworn to avenge his parents and punish the criminals of this city. He had trained and prepared himself and his youthful pride and anger led him to believe he was ready. Thus he had snuck out of Wayne manor to begin his war on the criminals of the city.
The moon was just beginning to rise as the ruthless and the vile of the city began their prowls for prey and entertainment. It was in one of these alleys that Oliver was getting ready. Dressed in hand me down rags he had found in the gutter. The rags did well to hide his appearance. Along with hiding who he was it also hid his weapons from view. A pair of brass knuckles on each hand and a large knife tucked into his jacket. He was smart enough to know gunfire was like announcing your position and he was confident he could beat down anyone that came across his path. It was that arrogance that would soon be his undoing. Ducking threw alleyways and streets that were all but deserted he sought out anyone at all. Even a mugger would do to sate the hunger for revenge that coursed through his veins. It was this fury and rage that had consumed him since the first shot was fired right in front of him. Dashing threw the street he saw a young woman run into an alley. Following after her was three men with the look of a predator in their eyes. Knowing the woman was in trouble he ran after them his brass knuckles ready to earn their keep.
Halfway down the alleyway a young woman appearing no older than eighteen was in the fetal position in clear pain. Her raven black hair greatly contrasted her pale almost chalk white skin. She was dressed in all black clothes that made her seemingly blend into the night itself. Along with hiding a figure that could be considered flawless and well endowed. Her youthful face was flawless and stunning if not contorted into a scream of silent agony. The source of her silent agony was the three men standing above her. Dressed in odd leather with a crimson ting to it the three men were chuckling amused at the woman at their feet. In each of their hands was a wand showing that they were in fact wizards. The three laughed as she tried to fight off the torture curse they had struck her with, only for her attempts to fail as they put more magic into their spells. With a British accent the leader of the group laughed and said tauntingly. "Well well well the infamous bitch with the ten thousand galleon bounty finally made the wrong move. Don't worry baby this is only going to hurt a" Whatever he was about to say was cut off as Oliver's fist impacted the side of his head. In the confusion the three lost their hold on the spell over the woman. As Oliver didn't let up his assault as he tried to go for the next one. Only for the man to be much faster as he said with a snarl. "Filthy muggle swine!" A sweep of his wand sent the young man flying into the wall at the end of the alley. Furious he had been blindsided the man he had punched stormed over to him. With every step he sent a hex at the boy. Only for the spell to burst and vanish just as it would have hit him. Not noticing his spells had no real effect or that the woman was recovering the leader roared out in fury to a dazed Oliver, who was swiftly losing consciousness. "You think you can hit me ME! You filthy degenerate muggle trash it's time to show you just who the superior race truly is AVADA." Just as the word left his lips the woman's hands grabbed his hair and shoulder. Pulling his head to the side she let out a feral hiss as she bared large fangs. Sinking them into his neck he tried and failed to fight her off. His last word before passing out was a hate filled and vulgar. "Bitch" With no care she tossed the man aside as he fell limp and near death. But before she could relish the victory she had to deal with the young man who saved her.
Oliver himself was fading out fast. The blow to the head was severe and he was about to pass out. But what he saw before he did was unbelievable. With their attention diverted to him she had moved in a blur. Throwing the first two like ragdolls clear out of the alley. The woman then took out the leader like a vampire. Biting his neck and sucking his blood like an animal. When the man fell seemingly dead he tensed as she ran over to him. Blood dripping from her chin the last thing he registered was her picking him up with no show of effort. With superhuman strength she carried him out of the alley and to safety. It was this meeting that would forever alter the destiny of Gotham forever. His memories were broken as the elevator dinged and the doors opened. Shaking the memories away for later he walked out to begin his first steps towards his destiny.
Bruce Wayne was the cliché billionaire playboy who lived to party and have fun, a man who lived for the moment but knew how to plan seven moves ahead and an extra three just in case. He had been raised by loving parents who had moved out of Gotham and now resided in Hawaii. A well-earned retirement in his opinion after all the things they had bailed him out of in his youth. The one that came to mind most was his affair with a woman named Selena Kyle. She could have been the one, until she found him in bed with two other women on their anniversary. He would be dealing with the fallout of that relationship for the rest of his life. They had of course left the families trusted butler Alfred to keep an eye on him. But there were times he could be serious and mature. The deaths of his childhood friend William had been one of those times. When the Queen's had adopted little Oliver he had personally thrown them a party that many said lasted a full week. When he had been made his godfather it was one of the proudest moments in his life. Sadly his work and his lifestyle had made it hard to be there as Ollie grew up. That was something he sought to change after his friend died. He had gotten the best to make sure the man who killed him paid for his crime. Already word had gone out that judge Carlos Darkstone was going to let him walk on a technicality. Simply because the man had never liked how the Queen's stood up against his partners in crime. It had taken bribes and blackmail but he had done it.
Now his godson had asked to see him about something and he was more than willing to clear up his schedule, postponing a ribbon cutting at a green fuels plant in a town called Smallville for later. As he watched him walk into his office he couldn't help but frown at the hard look he had in his eyes. He knew he had little friends and spent most of his time learning to fight. But he hoped it was just a phase and he would soon start smiling again. He wanted nothing more than to see the child that wanted nothing more than to play and laugh back before him. Deep down Bruce knew he was still there somewhere deep inside the boy. As Oliver walked into the room he instinctively scanned for any threats and weapons. A habit he was working on and getting better at all the time. He almost didn't notice the security cameras hidden in plain sight. Shaking his hand Bruce smiled and said warmly. "Hey Ollie how's school?" Shaking his hand Oliver nodded and said bluntly. "The same all as and staying out of everyone's radar." With a weak smile Bruce asked him while walking over to a large bar on the side of the office. "Can I get you a drink? We got everything from Soda to the hard stuff. Though I'm pretty sure you still not ready for the hard stuff." Not wanting to offend him he nodded and said calmly. "Mountain dew if you got it." With a growing smile Bruce handed him a can of the soda and said more relaxed with the ice broken. "You said on the phone you wanted to ask me something."
Needing to word it carefully Oliver took a sip of soda as he planned out what to say calmly. With a deep breath he took the first step in his plans. "When you acquired Queen Industries my father had a department that was all R and D. All prototypes he had designed and tested nothing that made it to market unfortunately. I was wondering if you saved the prototypes and if I could use them." With a raised eyebrow Bruce knew something was up. He knew exactly what department he was talking about and a lot of that stuff was military based designs. No major weapons just armor and none lethal gear. It was why he had all of it put in cold storage in the subbasement. If Oliver was going to sell any of it or do something reckless he would never forgive himself. "Oh and just what are you going to use them for?" It was at this point that Oliver truly hated this part of his plan. He knew if he told him the truth he would have him locked down for life. But he had to make sure his plan worked. Gotham needed to be shaken from its apathy and corruption. If something wasn't done soon the city would explode both figuratively and literally. Looking up at him he sighed and said. "My father was one of the greatest inventors in the world. Not even the Starks matched his mind. I really want to know what my dad was like and this may help. I want to see if anything he was working on can be used to help people. Anything that was over looked that can help the people in Gotham live better lives. Maybe it'll even help me connect with him somehow." With a sincere look Bruce knew he couldn't say no. Truth was he was afraid Ollie would start to forget just how much Willy cared about people. Walking over to his desk he opened a drawer. Reaching in he pulled out his backup keycard. Granting him unrestricted access to the entire building. As he held out the card he knew this could very well bite him in the ass. "Here this will grant you access to the subbasement. Go to sub level five the cold storage floor for all the projects we couldn't turn a profit on." With a genuine smile Oliver took the card and thanked him. "Thanks Bruce you have no idea what this means to me." As he left to see what he could use Bruce felt hope that he was finally starting to see the old Ollie again. Unaware that he had just given the final key to the start of a young hero.
Wasting no time Oliver headed straight for the subbasement of Wayne tower. Built in the early days of Gotham the subbasement was originally designed as a subway station that was going to unite all of Gotham's subway systems under one central hub. It had been a joint project between Wayne and Queen Industries. However due to lack of funds and permits the project was scrapped. Leaving over a dozen tunnels and chambers left unfinished or abandoned. While there was still a massive network of subway tunnels no commercial ones led into the former station. It was now used for storage and whatever other uses one could imagine. One of these uses was cold storage for surplus items. It was in this massive nearly football field sized chamber that Oliver entered with quite resolve. Exiting the elevator his eyes scanned over the massive room. Thousands upon thousands of boxes filled every possible space. Some were only small cases others were larger than some vehicles. It was as he looked around he found a small computer terminal. It was the registry and catalog for every last item in this storehouse. Heading over he was about to begin his search when a calm almost wise voice stopped him in his tracks. "I was wondering when you would come through here mister Queen." Stepping back his eyes were like a hawks scanning for the source of the voice. Only to watch as an old man of around seventy walked around a large crate. With short grey hair and a short neatly trimmed beard the man was dressed in casual clothes and radiated a sense of kindness that was growing rarer in Gotham. A warm smile was on his face as he set a clipboard on the nearest crate. Walking up to Oliver he held his hand out and introduced himself.
"It's great to meet you mister Queen my name is Lucius Fox." Shaking his hand Oliver faintly remembered the name. It was with a raised eyebrow that he said questioningly. "You worked for my Father?" Chuckling he nodded his head hand replied amused. "You bet in fact I worked for your grandfather to when he founded Queen Industries. Back when it was a small part manufacturing company that not even the Starks would notice. Now I work here in what's left of my final project." It took a full second to realize what he meant when he did Oliver asked curiously. "You designed the network?" Looking around Lucius said with pride. "You bet I helped design the whole system. From the tunnels to the basic power supply this station was my baby. Though to be fair it was your Father and Thomas Wayne's idea. They wanted to make a mass cheap means of safe transportation throughout Gotham. Those two were concerned with smog and pollution long before any other company. Sadly it fell through before completion. But I like to stay and imagine what could have been. Plus take care of your old man's work." Seeing the young man was interested Lucius decided to give him the grand tour. Without losing his smile he looked at him and said. "How about I show you around?"
Seemingly walking through the massive chamber Lucius knew were every last item was and what it was. Half the items he had helped to design. Others well they were down here for a reason. Seemingly walking up to a random large metal case that was almost as tall as he was Lucius grinned as he opened the case to reveal a sheet of what appeared to be blue leather, with the texture of reptile skin. "You'll get a kick out of this. Your old man made this out of a mesh of synthetic spider silk and carbon fibers. All pressed into high density Kevlar nodes, its bullet proof tear resistant and fire resistant we called it dragon hide." Impressed Oliver lifted up the sheet to find it was almost identical in feel to worn leather. Wondering why it was here he looked up and asked calmly. "Why didn't it sell?" With a chuckle his reply was simply. "Because the joint chiefs thought the armed forces wouldn't be taken too seriously dressed like a bunch of bikers." As he closed the case Oliver knew this was not a problem for him. In fact some elements of his future gear were drawn up from the idea. Making a mental note where the case was he followed after the man as he showed off more and more gadgets and inventions. Some had potential others were just plan sad. It was as Lucius was showing him a grapple gun that he looked at him curious and said calmly. "So tell me mister Queen why the sudden interest in all this. Most of these items are just junk with the stuff Wayne and Stark are producing." Not losing his cool Oliver looked at him calmly and said. "I'm sort of working on a project." Now even more interested Lucius grinned and replied. "A project?" Nodding Oliver continued his explanation. "Yeah I've had this idea on how to help Gotham and I may need some of this stuff." Lucius just looked at him amused as if he didn't believe him. Trying to convince him he said almost blurting it out. "I'll bring what I don't use back." With a soft chuckle Lucius looked at him and said calmly. "Mister Queen in my personal opinion all this stuff" A slight pause made what he said all the more dramatic. "Belongs to you anyway. Do whatever you want just lock up when you leave." On his way out Oliver stopped to stare at the front end of what appeared to be a hybrid between a sports car and a tank, only to continue on his way to take stock on what he could use in the area.
One week later Suicide slums.
The slums had changed little over the two years since that fateful night. The only real difference was the new dealers and cops paid off to avoid the area. It was these labs and drug dens that would be the first target of his master plan to return hope to the city. First he would build the legend. Make the grunts and the workers fear him. Then that fear would rise up the ranks to the big men in charge. That was when he would strike at the heart of the crime in this city. This though was the night it would all begin. The moon was high and the criminals were doing what they did best. Unaware that on a rooftop a young man was taking his first steps in his personal war on their world. Walking across the roof of a building overlooking a drug lab he was a true sight to behold.
Standing tall Oliver queen was in an outfit meant to inspire fear in his enemies and hope in those he protected. The suit was made from mostly the dragon hide leather shown to him by Lucius a week prior. It was mostly black for stealth with dark green trimming along the edges and interior. The pants were baggy and lose. Both for freedom of movement and to hide further body armor underneath it. His knees had metal plated black knee pads to both protect his knees and make a harder blow when he hit. His boots were simple steel toed combat boots. Around his waist was a utility belt with medium sized pouches. Each one held various tools and gear that would aide him. On the back of the belt was a grapple gun. His torso and arms were protected by a sleek hooded jacket. The jacket was clearly padded with vest pockets and the hood hid most of his face from view. On the back of the jacket was a green arrowhead with neon green edges. On the arrowhead itself was a black lightning bolt. His hands were covered in sleek dark green gloves. That did not hinder his dexterity in the least. In his right hand he held a simple black bow. Slightly smaller than a regular bow the material it was made out of made it have a stronger draw strength than even the most advance compound bows on the market. When he had first used the bow he had put an arrow through three walls and only stopped when it hit a metal plate. On his back was a compact quiver with two dozen arrows tightly packed together. Reaching the edge of the building he looked up at the moon. Revealing the top half of his face had been painted a dark green to help disguise himself. Gazing at the moon he said with a slightly distorted voice. "It's time for the arrow to take flight." His eyes then locked on to the window across the street. He could see the four men laughing as they made poison that would be given to the innocent of the city. In a blur his left hand drew an arrow and notched it in the bow. Drawing it with ease he took perfect aim. With the release of that one arrow the lives of millions would be forever altered.
Well here was chapter two of the story. Now there are some things you may be wondering. Yes the mob boss had the same last name as Wolverine. This was intentional because let's face it there has to be other Howletts in the world. He can't have been the only one. Now the mysterious woman will be revealed in the next chapter in another flashback. I got the idea from the series. Basically every chapter will show another part in his journey to become the Arrow. Now the woman is from the Harry potter series. The next chapter will also reveal the cause of the feud between the Weasleys and the Potters. Let's just say it was bad. Dumbledore will also make an appearance and Oliver's master plan to restore the city will be revealed.