A Hero in the Shadows

The Houses Competition

Hufflepuff, HoH

Standard

Prompt: [Speech] "I'm gonna die, and I don't even know your name."

WC: 1992, per GDocs

AN: Indulge me here. I saw this prompt and just knew it was begging for a Superhero!AU. While I'm at it, I'm going to change a few things about canon that I didn't like and aren't integral to any of the canon plot (meaning that, unlike JKR, I refuse to kill off Fred or Dobby for no good reason). I also utilize the occasional Notice-Me-Not Charm, which is totally not canon but should be. In my world, it simply keeps people from seeing you if they aren't specifically looking for you, so that's how you should read it here. Finally, I'm going to toss in a little "Lord Potter-Black" and exorbitant wealth for the hell of it. If it was good for Batman, it stands to reason that it'll be good for my Harry.

So here we are: a post-war canon-divergent semi-Superhero!AU in which neither Fred nor Dobby dies and Harry decides to actually use the vast wealth his parents and Sirius left him. I had a blast writing it. Hope you enjoy!

AN2: Tom Snyder was the host of "The Late Late Show" through 1999. Just so you know!

"Lord Potter-Black, if you would just come down and let us register a new power reading," Unspeakable Croaker begged. "You're the first living person to have been possessed by a Horcrux for most of your life and then survive the separation. As you know, this should theoretically increase your magical power exponentially, and we have reports that this is likely true in your case. Our department would greatly appreciate it if you would—"

"For the thousandth time, no!" Harry bellowed. "I refuse to be your lab-rat. And besides, all the Ministry wants that reading for is evidence to get me locked away for being too powerful."

Realizing his defeat, Croaker stiffened. "Very well. If you won't do this the easy way, then I suppose we'll have to do it the hard way."

The old man whipped out his wand and sent a Stunner at Harry—or, rather, where Harry had been. Harry was too paranoid and too fast to let the Unspeakable get the drop on him. He'd moved away at the first movement of Croaker's wand arm.

"There is no easy way, and there is no hard way. There is only my way," Harry intoned. He then cast a charm to fill the office with a heavy mist.

Croaker shot another Stunner at him, but this time Harry rolled to the ground in front of the desk and tossed his invisibility cloak over himself. At the same time, he threw a Muggle "popper" to where he once stood. When timed perfectly, it appeared he'd managed to Apparate out of the Department of Mysteries, which the wards wouldn't usually allow. It wasn't the first time he'd used that trick, but it was the first time in the Ministry. Merlin, he loved messing with the Ministry.

Clearing the mist, Croaker shrieked, "Get the Aurors outside! He's powerful enough to Apparate through the wards. Shit!"

Harry held in a chuckle. He waited a few minutes before, still covered by the cloak, striding out of the office, taking the lifts to the atrium, and Flooing back to the Burrow.

The entire Weasley family was waiting for him, gathered around their well-worn kitchen table to listen to Harry tell them everything about his most recent encounter with the Ministry. He launched into his tale and finished with a long-suffering sigh.

"Harry, dear, what will you do? You can't keep dodging the Ministry forever," Molly fretted.

Arthur nodded. "They'll never give up, you know. The Ministry wants you kept under lock and key more than they ever wanted Voldemort taken down."

"That's because Harry's an even greater threat," Charlie said.

"Harry would never go dark!" Ron exclaimed.

"But he doesn't bend to the Ministry's will," Hermione explained. "And being the one who actually defeated Voldemort gives him a huge support base within the general public. If ever he wanted to take over the Ministry, Harry would likely have the support of most every ordinary witch and wizard."

"Wicked," the twins said, their eyes gleaming mischievously.

Ginny shook her head. "But Harry wouldn't do that. Would you?"

"Of course not. As far as I'm concerned, the Ministry can go screw itself," Harry assured her. "But I'm worried about what they're going to do to you lot when they've finally had enough of me. They know how close we are."

"Whatever it is, we can handle it," Bill promised. Fleur nodded with him.

Suddenly, Percy's Patronus danced into the room. The silvery beagle seemed to howl, 'Ministry is coming. Send him away or hide him.'

"That's my cue to leave," Harry sighed. "I don't know when it'll be safe for me to come back, but know that I love you all and appreciate everything you've ever done for me."

Molly squeezed him once more before thrusting him toward the back door.

Harry grabbed Hermione in a tight hug. "Promise you won't look for me. Stay safe."

"I won't promise that," she threatened. "I'll always try to keep you safe. Merlin knows someone needs to."

Harry simply shook his head at her and then leapt out the back door into the falling darkness.

Once hidden in the nearest copse of trees, Harry Apparated to a half dozen different places before heading back to Number 12 Grimmauld Place. Hiding the magical signature of his Apparation trail was a pain, but it had to be done. Shortly after the war, he'd cleaned up the house and recast the Fidelius with a trusted ally the Ministry was unlikely to ever consider as his Secret-Keeper. No one else, not even Ron and Hermione, knew the secret. He'd meant to keep it as a bolthole in case the fame got to be too much. Harry never really thought he'd have to hide from the Ministry. That seemed foolish now—a power would always abhor those more powerful than itself.

But what to do now? Harry mused. All this time and money and nothing to do with it…

"Would Master Lord Potter-Black likes one of Dobby's grilled-cheesy sandwiches?"

Harry whipped around and nearly blasted Dobby's head off in shock. "Merlin, Dobby, you scared the hell out of me. What are you doing here? And how many times do I have to tell you, it's just Harry."

"Dobby is sorry for scaring Master Harry, but Dobby sensed that Master Harry sir wouldn't be returning to his old flat. Dobby could feel his new home, so he Apparated here. And he brought all Master Harry's things with him, he did!"

Harry scratched his head for a moment and then sagged a bit—he would never really understand how house elves could be so powerful and wise and yet so… enthusiastic.

"Uh, that would be great, Dobby. Thanks for all that," he replied.

Harry trudged up the stairs to the study. He sat at the heavy wooden desk and idly rubbed its smooth finish, thinking deeply about what he was going to do with his life for the foreseeable future. Any job in the wizarding world was out—the price on his head was too great for anyone to resist. And, thanks to Hogwarts, he was completely unqualified for nearly every job in the Muggle world.

It stood to reason that Option C was to create his own job. It would have to be in the Muggle world, but he would need to use his magic as well as the logic he learned from Muggles in order to keep his identity hidden. Harry also wanted to make a tangible difference, to do something that would make life better for ordinary people.

He jotted the ideas down and stared pensively at them. When he'd read through the list of requirements several times, understanding washed over Harry, and he dropped his head to the desk.

He wanted to be a superhero.

Despite sending his internal cliché-meter off the charts, Harry dove into his superhero preparation wholeheartedly. He and Dobby brainstormed all the possible skills he would need to brush up on, and he did so with ease. Healing, fighting, shielding, transfiguration — all of it was so much easier with the power he could finally access without the Horcrux in his head.

Harry's first outing was simple. He was dressed in black from head to toe and wearing a mild Notice-Me-Not Charm. He walked through a seedier part of London and quickly came upon a mugging.

A man slipped up behind an elderly gentleman and stuck a knife against his back. "Give me your wallet, and I won't gut you where you stand," he threatened.

Harry silently conjured a balaclava and slipped it over his head. "You won't do it anyway. Put the knife down and no one gets hurt."

The mugger pulled the knife away and pointed it toward Harry. "Who the hell are you? Because whoever you are, you're about to be a dead one. Now give me that—" The mugger stopped when he saw the old man had escaped.

"You were saying?" Harry taunted.

"You're a dead man," the mugger growled, and he lunged at Harry.

Harry swung a fist that only almost connected with the man's jaw. What did hit the guy was the wandless Stunner coming from Harry's other hand. All that sleight of hand practice with Dudley's third slice of toast, Harry chuckled internally.

When he had tied the man up and pinned a note for the police to his chest, Harry slipped into a payphone and dialed 999 to report an attempted mugging. Before the bobbies could arrive, he slipped into the shadows and Apparated away.

Harry's next dozen outings followed a similar pattern—find a problem by stumbling onto it or hearing it on a police scanner, fix it, slip into the shadows, and Apparate home. But staying hidden was difficult. After being sighted by police several times, the media had latched onto his "identity" and purpose. One morning's news headline read "Vigilante 'Shadow' Saves Three, Busts Drug Ring."

It was nice to be appreciated without being feared or bombarded with other responsibilities. Harry easily could pop out, save a few people, and be home in time to catch Snyder on "The Late Late Show." But, at times, it was incredibly lonely.

Two months after his first "operation", as he'd begun to think of them, Harry heard the most frightening call yet come over the scanner. Gunmen were holding hostages in a Tube station, and Harry immediately headed out to help. He popped down a side street near the station and pushed his way up to the police barricade, trying to hear more about what was going on. It was no use—the noise of the crowd, the sirens, and the radio static made it impossible to get any information. He'd just have to go in blind.

Harry slipped back to the alley, donned his mask, and Apparated down into the station. For safety's sake, he applied a Disillusionment Charm. He crept down onto the platform and surveyed the situation.

There were two gunmen, each dressed in gray and armed with a pair of pistols. The first had a gun trained on the quivering hostages, and the other was aiming at the police officers bottlenecked on the stairs. A hostage was slumped against the wall with what appeared to be a bloodied jumper tied over her thigh. Hermione had a Weasley sweater exactly that color. The thought made Harry shudder. But she was safe – either at the Burrow or her cottage in Hogsmeade.

Just as Harry revealed himself, the police officers started yelling, the gunmen yelled back, and the police opened fire. As the gunmen dove behind concrete columns, Harry threw up his strongest shield in front of the hostages and ran toward them. As the bullets continued to fly, he directed the hostages up the other flight of stairs and off the platform. He reached down to help the wounded hostage, and Harry's heart fell to his shoes. Hermione didn't just have a sweater that color—it was Hermione's sweater.

"I'm dying," she chuckled darkly. "The bullet had to have nicked my femoral artery. No use in trying to save me now, Shadow, or whatever you're called. I don't know who you are, even though I've been desperately trying to figure it out."

"My name's not Shadow, and you're not dying. Not on my watch," Harry said gruffly.

Hermione snorted faintly. "No, I'm really gonna die, even though the masked superhero has come to save me. Shame real life doesn't work like the cinema. At least those people get to find out who saved them."

"Shut up," he muttered.

"I'm gonna die, and I don't even know your name. Please, tell me your name," she whispered.

"You've always known my name, Hermione," he said, tugging back his mask.

Hermione gasped and then smiled faintly. "I should've known it was you. It's always you."

She went limp in his arms, and Harry, doing the only thing he knew, crept into the shadows and popped her back to Grimmauld Place.