Chapter 8: Afternoon Brunch of Justice

[Harry Potter]

Harry Potter awoke, for approximately the four hundredth time his life, in a hospital bed.

A nurse did not rush in and tell Harry that he shouldn't be sitting up, because Harry was something of a professional hospital-attendee, and so he did not immediately try to sit up when he awoke. Instead, Harry gazed at the well lit ceiling and listened to people talk about him.

"He is perhaps the most popular protagonist in history," came Vision's strange android voice. "He is also a Prime of tremendous natural power, with the inherent natural desire for good. It is written into his code, as surely as it is mine."

Harry reflected on the novels based on his life widely available at bookstores across Costa Del Sol. He had read them, and they were certainly much more than biographies, as they explained his innermost turmoil in truthful ways. Harry had grown concerned that he was a fictional character, and so consulted his spiritual adviser, the buddhist warforged Cheese Doodle. Cheese Doodle had said he found it more likely that Harry's mind was channeled by an individual in another universe. Harry liked that explanation better.

"Doesn't look too tough to me," came an unfamiliar, rough voice. "He's from a kids book? Has a magic wand and pulls rabbits out of hats? Doesn't sound like Avenger material to me."

"Well," came the exceptionally caucasian voice of Captain America. "I can't deny I think he's a good fit, but he might be a hard sell. He just saw a lot of the dark side of this game, he might not wanna step up to the plate anytime soon. Besides, he doesn't have a bat."

Harry, understanding the cricket metaphor, patted his robe pockets, and then felt a deep sinking in stomach as he touched the splintered remains of his holly and phoenix feather wand.

"Can't you make him a new one?" Marcus asked.

"Possibly," came the voice of Vision. "But it would take a significant OM investment, and it might be easier to actually pluck a feather from the tail of a live phoenix. The replacement I could give him would certainly not match his expectations."

"What about the one you got from the Wicked Witch?" the Captain asked.

"I must study it more, but somehow I doubt Harry would want to use it," Vision replied. "As a matter of fact, I have quite a few pressing matters that demand my attention. And as it seems Jarvis is nearly here with brunch, and as Mr Potter is quite awake, perhaps I might attend them while you and Marcus answer his many burning questions."

Harry sat up, eye the three Avengers across the room.

The green and yellow android he had already met.

The moody stranger with the hard face must have been the unfamiliar voice.

Harry was pretty sure he remembered the man in the star-spangled leotard as well.

"I don't think I have any questions, at least not about you," Harry said in his bizarre accent. "You are a group of a powerful primes who go around the Omniverse righting wrongs and policing the actions of your fellow Primes."

Vision smiled, and walked away. Captain America and Marcus looked at each other for a moment. Then Steve Rogers flashed a dazzling smile and walked confidently over to Harry. He sat down next to his bed and clapped a hand on Harry's shoulder.

"Got it in one, Bucko!" said the Captain, clearly impressed at Harry's deductive reasoning. Behind him, Marcus simply stared. The Captain grinned as he tousled Harry's hair. "My name is Captain America, and I'd like to personally extend you an invitation to the Avengers!"

"Thank you for liberating me," Harry said as he gazed at the star-spangled man. "But I'm afraid I don't have any oil."

Marcus chuckled as Captain America stopped his tousling.

"I only have one question," asked Harry Potter, the man who lived. "Are my friends ok?"

"Just fine!" replied Captain American jauntily. "Yeah, we got some pretty sharp docs around here. Your wookie friends won't be waking up for a little while, he lost a lot of blood, and that Marla, she's staying with him."

Harry nodded, and let himself relax a little.

"And I can't join your, uh, club," Harry added as he removed his splintered wand from his robe pocket. "I can't step up to the plate without a bat."

Captain America looked uncomfortable."You see son-"

"If you're man enough to be an Avenger, you don't need no magic wand," interjected Marcus from behind the Captain. His arms were folded over his chest. Harry stared back from behind his glasses unflinchingly. Captain America coughed.

"Can't you summon a new one?" he asked. Marcus cocked his head, interested as well.

"No," said Harry shortly. Then, "The wand chooses the wizard. I can make another wand, but then it's the wizard choosing the wand. It won't work RIGHT."

The Captain nodded solemnly. Marcus snorted.

"I don't know what the hell you just said, but I know an excuse when I hear one," Marcus said stonily.

Harry glared back. "Even if I could repair my wand, it will just get snapped again."

Marcus grinned. "So learn to fight like a man."

[Marcus Wright]

The training area was more of a traditional boxing like rink, one you’d see in most old time movies. But unlike old time movies, this rink was the Avengers own personal one. The former criminal had only seen these at times when he was passing by, but never really used one when he was alive.

There were weights near the area, and even a punching bag for those aspiring fighters out there. Before the training session, Blair was hanging on the ropes watching her boyfriend throw some punchs.

“Hey, I’ll be watching, Marcus don’t let me down.”

“Sure, Blair… I won’t beat up Harry too bad.”

Blair moved her eyes toward Harry Potter and then back at Marcus “Or at least don’t let him beat you too bad, just go easy on the boy, ok?”

‘Go easy?! I don’t … Go easy, Blair.”

“Sure, i’ve seen your softer sides, Marcus.

The terminator groaned while at least stopping for a second “I don’t like mentioning those “tender sides” in front of the guys.

Blair chuckled “Why not?” “You boys got to have your tender sides, you know.”

“But you do want things to happen later, right?”

Everytime she said that, Marcus tensed and groaned “Yes, of course I do.”
"Just go sit, ok Blair.

Blair snuck a kiss on Marcus's cheek and he smirked "Sure, later we can do something else, ok?"

[Harry Potter]

Harry James Potter spat out his two front teeth.

"Oh my god!" screamed Blair, her ringing voice barely penetrating through the fuzzy feeling in Harry's head.

"He'll grow them back," Marcus said casually as he cracked his neck. The cyborg stood shirtless above Harry, with little flecks of Harry's blood on his hands and chest. Harry groaned and managed to rise up on wobbly feet. Marcus laughed.

"Attaboy!" Captain America called encouragingly from Harry's corner. Harry looked to see his coach grinning broadly, next to a dispassionate Vision. "You got heart!"

"A heart isn't going to win a fight," Marcus called back to the captain as he put up his guard. Harry moved forward cautiously, keeping his legs together, his shoulders loose, just like Cap told him. He lurched forward with a wild jab, but Marcus smirked and sidestepped the blow. Harry roared furiously as he through a right cross, but Marcus simply stood perfectly still, feeling Harry's amateur fist crumple against Marcus's temple. Just as the pain registered in Harry's face, Marcus delivered a backhanded that drove him to the floor.

Harry Potter lay in a pool of his own blood, an ugly cut over his right eye leaking wildly.

"He's done," the Captain said firmly.

"Don't touch him," Marcus warned. "He's still got some fight in him, don't you?"

"I said he's done," the Captain repeated sharply.

"I believe that is Harry's decision," said Vision quietly to Captain America. The android simply watched Harry closely.

Slowly, painfully, Harry staggered to his feet, facing Marcus through a bloody red film.

"That's right," Marcus whispered, as he cracked his neck. Harry attacked again, aiming a soccer kick at Marcus' crotch, but the cyborg simply blocked it with his shin and laughed in Harry's face. Harry aimed a right hook for Marcus head, but the cyborg lazily deflected the blow and smashed his forehead into Harry's nose.

Everything was black. There was a ringing in Harry's ears, through which he could just discern the faint hysterical screams of Blair. Harry tried to breath, letting his senses come back to him.

"Heart don't win fights, fighting wins fights," Marcus says dismissively as he looms over Harry. He crouches down and grabs Harry by the back of his hair, lifting his head up to whisper in Harry's ear. "If you break here, now, you'll break every time out there, and you'll be no good to anyone."

Marcus's words penetrated through the thick fog cloudy Harry's mind, and then he felt something stir within him. Harry got to his feet, blood streaming down his face, but no longer on wobbly legs.

Marcus grinned as he saw the physical effects of Harry converting a massive amount of Omnillium.

He had a feeling this would hurt.

"Stupefy!" Harry roared as he aimed a right cross at Marcus's chin. Marus's eyes widened as Harry's fist glowed a bright red. When it connected with the cyborgs chin, the magical Stunning Spell imbued in Harry's fist discharged directly into his face, sending Marcus flying backwards.

Blair gasped.

Captain America gasped as well, but in a decidedly more masculine fashion.

Vision smiled.

Marcus chuckled as he got back to his feet. The artificial akin around his left cheek had been blasted off, and a blinking circuit board could be seen beneath his skin.

Harry stared defiantly back, breathing hard, leaking blood.

"Still think you need a bat?" Marcus asked.