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Thank Rao I'm a Hot Chick With Superpowers

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Summary: Buffy's father isn't what you might call a local boy. He's not illegal, but he's definitely an alien.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
DC Universe > Justice LeagueThePunisherFR15621,0061919039,0157 Dec 0916 Aug 10No

Chapter 6

Disclaimer: I own none of these things. Not BtVS (JW), not JLA (WB), and not HP (JKR).

AN: Thought you'd gotten rid of this, didn'tcha? It won't die that easily!

... Okay, that was a little much, even for me. *apologetic bow*

AN 2: Credit goes to Rorschach's Blot for a fair bit of this chapter. The original is located in his collection, "Odd Ideas", chapter 101: the Sands of Time.

Just so there's no more confusion, this is what happened to 'The Boy' before his run-in with Joker.

AN 3: Oh, and BarbarossaRotbart? I did my research. The term 'Homo Magi' can refer to anyone with magic-based powers, from Zatanna to Captain Marvel to Solomon frickin' Grundy.

You do not want to get into an otaku war with me, buddy. The Wiki is my ally. And a powerful ally it is.

Chapter 6

Earth 309, London, Three Days Before Buffy's Arrival in Metropolis

Harry Potter watched in shock as his godfather flew towards the veil. If only he had more time, if only…. Harry watched in shock as Sirius jerked to a halt before collapsing on the floor. Shortly after that, a curse came from nowhere and turned Bellatrix’s head into a fine pink mist. Several more hexes ended the careers of several more Death Eaters.

“Who dares?!” Voldemort screamed. The snake-like man backed up slowly. “Show yourself, show y-oof!” An unseen force hit the Dark Lord and pushed him into the veil.

Seeing that their numbers were greatly reduced and that their Lord and master had been defeated, the remaining Death Eaters dropped their wands and raised their hands.

“What just happened?” a member of the Order of the Phoenix muttered in shock.

“No body move,” Amelia Bones screamed as she led in a group of Aurors. “Bloody hell,” she said after she’d taken in the carnage. “What happened here?”

“Voldemort and his followers were attempting to retrieve an… item from the Department,” Professor Dumbledore replied, “we arrived to stop them.”

“It never occurred to you to call the Aurors?” Amelia asked with a frown. “Don’t think I don’t see a few of mine with your lot.”

“I…” Dumbledore gaped, he was speechless for the first time in many years.

“Is it safe to come in, Amelia?” Fudge’s whiny voice asked.

“Come in, Minister,” Amelia agreed.

“My word,” Fudge gasped, “what has happened here?”

“Dumbledore says that Voldemort attacked,” Amelia reported, “suppose it would explain all the Death Eaters.”

“That can’t be true!” Fudge said loudly. “The Dark Thingy is not back! Dumbledore must be lying again to…”

“I’m afraid that he’s right,” one of the Death Eaters said smoothly. “Mind if I remove my mask?”

“Slowly,” Amelia growled.

The Death Eater removed his mask to reveal the smiling face of Lucius Malfoy.

“Lucius?” Fudge gasped. “But what, what’s going on?”

“The Dark Lord returned,” Lucius explained, “and put us under the Imperius curse again. I suspect that the Dark Mark makes it impossible to resist,” he added absently.

“The Dark Thingy?” Fudge squeaked. “Here?”

“And gone again,” Lucius agreed, “thrown into the Veil.”

“So he’s gone for good?” Fudge asked hopefully.

“So I think we’d better make sure this time,” Lucius corrected. He’d rather liked the years he’d spent out from under the Dark Lord’s thumb and he had no intention of putting his collar back on, not when freedom was in sight. “Don’t you agree?”

“Of course,” Fudge said nervously, “whatever you think is best, Lucius.”

“Where’s Harry?” Sirius said suddenly.

“My word,” Fudge squeaked, “Sirius Black.”

“I’m innocent,” Sirius said automatically. “Harry,” he called out, “Harry are you here?”


Harry had slipped out shortly after the Aurors arrived. A few minutes of searching rewarded him with an unbroken time turner and a few turns took him several hours into the past.

“Invisibility cloak,” Harry mumbled to himself. “Better go back a little further, just to be sure I have enough time to find one.” As he turned the small hourglass, he fumbled it accidentally. Thankfully, it didn’t break. He found himself in a time when the corridor he was occupying was utterly empty.

“Might have gone a bit too far,” Harry chuckled to himself. His eye fell on the rack full of unbroken time turners. “Be a shame not to rescue a couple of them,” he mumbled to himself, grabbing several of the valuable devices.

“Now if I were an invisibility cloak, where would I be?”

Harry soon found out that the evidence storage room was a bust. Not that it wasn’t full of several useful items that Harry happily appropriated, just no Invisibility cloaks. The rest of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement was similarly a wash in terms of cloaks, Harry figured that they were probably stored in one of the locked cabinets. Happily, there were plenty of things that were not stored in the locked cabinets that Harry cheerfully added to his growing collection. Never knew what might come in handy and he did plan to return everything after he dealt with the Death Eaters and saved his godfather.

Harry spent several hours ransacking the Ministry in search of an Invisibility Cloak until finally, he had the good fortune of finding the warehouse where the Department of Mysteries stored the majority of their un-cursed items.

Harry flipped through the catalog until he found an entry for an experimental invisibility suit. The experimental part worried him until he found a notation explaining that the suit worked exceptionally well, just not quite well enough to justify the expense of replacing the existing cloaks. Harry grabbed several more items that looked interesting and useful before going off to find a place to hide until he was needed.

Harry checked the clock again, nearly ten hours until he had to save Sirius. Maybe it hadn’t been such a good idea to go back so far? Harry eyed one of the Auror combat manual he’d picked up earlier, and grinned. However was he going to pass the time?


An explosion woke Harry with a start. This was it, he carefully loaded his collection of borrowed items into the bag of holding that he’d found the night before and set off to complete his self assigned mission.

Harry carefully snuck past the fight to the spot he’d chosen the night before. It was out of the way, offered a clear view of the field of battle, and above all had a giant stone pillar to hide behind.

“Accio, Sirius,” Harry whispered. While the spell wasn’t powerful enough to summon the wizard, it was more then powerful enough to save him from going through the veil. “Reductio, sepelio, flatus, trunco, adustum, suscito.” A grin bloomed on Harry’s face as he watched Voldemort helplessly scream at his defeated foe. With a sudden flash of insight, Harry realized what he had to do. Harry took a deep breath and ran towards the Dark Lord, building up enough momentum until.

“Yoof!” The air rushed out of Voldemort’s lungs as Harry tackled him, sending them both through the veil.


It took several hours for the forensics team to piece together what had happened to the Dark Lord from the ward data reluctantly provided by the Department of Mysteries.

“So that’s it,” one of the techs said as the watched the spectral figure of Harry Potter vanish through the Veil. “Harry Potter saved us again, just . . .”

“Just gonna have to change the name,” another interjected, “since ‘boy-who-lived’ doesn’t quite fit anymore.”


The news spread like wildfire through the Ministry, prompting the majority of the employees to take the remainder of the day off to be alone with their grief.

The only person who welcomed the news was Minister Fudge, but then he’d always been of the opinion that a dead hero was much easier to manage then a live one.


Arthur took several deep calming breaths before he opened the door to his house. You have to be strong for Molly, he told himself. You can’t break down, you have to be her rock. He squeezed his eyes shut and slowly counted to ten.

“Molly,” he called out as he walked into the house, “where are you?”

“In the kitchen, dear.”

He put his hands on her shoulders and carefully guided her into one of the chairs.

“What’s wrong?” Molly asked nervously. “Arthur, tell me what’s wrong?” Her eyes automatically flicked to something over her husband’s shoulder.

“It’s Harry,” Arthur said sadly, “I’m afraid that he didn’t survive his last duel with Voldemort.”

“Who told you that?” Molly demanded.

“It’s all over the office,” Arthur said slowly.

“Well I thought you had better sense then to listen to stupid rumors,” Molly said with a sniff. “Imagine, letting yourself be taken in by something so silly.”

“Molly, it’s true I . . .”

“Look at the clock,” Molly demanded.


“The clock!” Molly barked. “Look at it.”

Arthur slowly turned his head to stare dully at the Weasley family clock for several seconds, until he realized what his wife was trying to impart.

“If Harry’s dead, then why does it say that he’s traveling right now?” Molly asked sweetly. “And why did it say that he was at lunch earlier?”

“I need to contact the Department of Mysteries right now!” Arthur called over his shoulder as he rushed to the floo.


A week later, a meeting was held by the top agents of the DOM.

“Well,” the lead unspeakable said with a frown, “this just doesn’t make sense. We know that the Veil rips out a beings soul when they go through so it shouldn’t be possible for the Potter boy to have survived.”

“Not unless he was running around with an extra soul fragment or something anyway,” another joked. This set off a round of laughs.

“Maybe it was because the Dark Lord was in a construct body?” Another suggested. “So the soul was ripped out of that and Harry, ah . . .”

“Flew in under the radar?”

“Sure, why not?”

“Just as likely that it’s part of the whole ‘boy-who-lived’ jazz or something to do with surviving the killing curse.”

“Opens up new avenues of research anyway.”

“That it does.”


Earth 619, Gotham City

Upon waking, the first thing Harry was aware of was the blinding pain right behind his eye. Yes, that was painful. Note to self: never go through the Veil again. Bad Idea.

Slowly, the young wizard sat up. He was in an alley, still dressed in the invisibility suit, and was apparently alone. Not that it would have mattered, considering no one could actually see him.

Seeing that his new bag of holding was still clutched in his hand, he ducked behind a dumpster, and changed into his school uniform, minus the robe and sweater. He could get away with the rest of it, even in Muggle areas. He also slipped one of the time-turners around his neck, just in case.

A quick exploration proved that Harry had no idea where he was. This city, while large and impressive, was not London, nor anywhere in Scotland he was aware of. Judging by the accents of the people around him, he was fairly certain he was in the States.

Well damn,’ Harry thought. ‘This won’t do. I need to find a way out of here. Only problem is, I didn’t exactly get here through official channels. I understand that most governments frown on that sort of thing. I suppose I could just cast a bit of magic, get the Underage Sorcery office to pick me up, but that seems a bit drastic…

Harry's train of thought came to a halt as he passed by an electronics store. Several televisions were displaying a man. This man was dressed, head to toe, in green. He was also flying.

And fighting a large tentacle monster.

Harry stared for several seconds before he managed to speak again. “What the fuck?!

“I know,” another passerby said. “You’d think these things would know better than to mess with the Justice League.”

Harry didn’t respond. He’d never heard of a ‘Justice League’, but supposed it could just be an American thing. He’d lived a rather sheltered existence, after all. But at the same time, it didn’t seem likely that the rest of the Wizard community would just let the Americans show their magic off like this.

This was a serious fracture of the Statute of Secrecy. Or at least a bad bruising.

“To hell with it,” Harry muttered. “I’m getting myself caught, right now.” Pulling his wand from his pocket, he cast a simple leg-locker curse at a random pedestrian, followed quickly by the counter-curse.

Drawing on his experience with this kind of thing, Harry estimated that he’d have to wait no more than three minutes before an owl found him with a ministry letter. So, he settled onto a nearby bench, and waited.

And waited.

Aaaaaaand waited.

Any minute now….


Many miles away in a tall stone tower, a blue-and-gold clad man turned his head, as if to focus on something in the distance.

“Is something wrong, dear?” a woman, dressed in more conservative tan colors, asked.

“Perhaps,” the man said. “I have not yet decided. However, there is definitely something new on this plane. I shall have to observe it a while longer.”

“I see,” the woman smiled knowingly. “Good luck then, Husband.”

“Thank you, Inza.”


Harry looked at his watch. It had been half-an-hour since casting his spell, and no one, owl, wizard, or otherwise, had approached him.

“Hey, kid!”

Harry perked up, and looked around. It was about time. Even allowing for the distance between America and the U.K., this was getting…. Wait. Was that a bobby?

Indeed, it was just a Muggle policeman. He walked up to Harry, a stern expression on his face. “Shouldn’t you be in school, kid?”

Yeah, actually, but it’s not as if I can get to Hogwarts from here,’ Harry thought. Out loud he said, “No sir. I’m not actually from here.”

The cop grunted. “I see. Well, don’t loiter around. Park Row isn’t a place for kids.”

Harry looked around. He could see the officer’s point. This didn’t look like the nicest place. Not as bad as Knockturn Alley, perhaps, but all the same….

“Yes sir. Um… I am a bit lost, though. Could you point me in the direction of…” Harry’s eyes fell on a newspaper headline, “… Wayne Enterprises? I’m staying with my uncle, you see, and he works there.”

“At Wayne Enterprises?” the officer asked suspiciously.

“In the mailroom,” Harry said, hoping that would be convincing enough.

Thankfully, it seemed to work. “Alright. Come with me, and I’ll get you onto the Railway. Quickest way to get to the Heights.”

Harry let out a sigh of relief.


A few hours later, Harry was sighing again, but for a very different reason. He was hungry. Normally, he would have fixed this problem with all haste, but there was another problem: he had no Muggle money. Oh, he was certain that the gold, silver, and bronze coins he was carrying were more than valuable enough, but he wasn’t comfortable letting people know he had such things.

“Oy,” he muttered. “What I wouldn’t give for some of Hogwarts’ mashed potatoes right now. What the hell am I supposed to do? All I have is this bloody bag…” Harry’s eyes widened, then slammed shut as he realized what he was holding. A bag stocked to the brim with odds and ends from the Department of Mysteries.

Ducking into a small restaurant, Harry went into the restroom, hiding in one of the stalls. He opened the bag as far as it would go, and started going through its contents. An emergency wand-making kit, a few Auror manuals, a standard Muggle survival pack…

Wait. That had possibilities.

Opening the small metal case, Harry found a plethora of things that would prove more than handy. Taking a peek at the users’ manual, Harry identified them.

First, identification. By providing a few basic facts, name, age, etc, the ID set would create a full identity, including a paper trail, records in the Muggle computer networks, passport, driver’s license, hunter’s license, and even Law Enforcement or Military records, if needed.

Second, a wallet. Beyond the obvious mundane uses, it came with an enchantment that would transfigure paper-like material into cash. The spell would need to be strengthened ever so often, but that definitely solved several immediate problems.

There were also a few other things, including a guide to dressing properly (Robes-B-Gone! By George Malkin), but nothing else immediately useful. Now, all he needed was paper.

And he just happened to have two rolls of it right next to him. Perfect.

Walking back out into the restaurant, Harry waited to be seated.


Two Weeks Later

Harry paced around his small apartment, the air around him nearly visible from his anxiety. Wherever he was, it was not Kansas, and he didn’t even have Toto to keep him company.

Though, there was a Kansas in this weird place. It had some of the strangest towns in it. Smallville, Grandville, so on and so forth. Oh, and New York state had a city named Metropolis, of all the ridiculous things. As far as Harry knew, ‘Metropolis’ was just another word for city. Why someone would name a city ‘City’ was beyond him.

But that wasn’t the worst part. Oh, no. The worst part was, everyone in this place seemed to know about magic. Everyone. Oh, they didn’t necessarily call it ‘magic’. There were a few beings known as ‘meta-humans’ running around, and a few others that had been classified as aliens, but Harry had his doubts. To him, it all looked like magic.

And if magic wasn’t a secret, that meant there was no ministry to keep it that way. Which meant, by extension, that there were no Wizards.

No one to arrest him for using magic. No one to teach him said magic. None of his friends. They were all somewhere else, somewhere he couldn’t get to. He was stuck here, wherever it was.

He still had a bit of hope, of course. That veil had been in the DoM for a reason. Obviously, they were studying it. Surely they would be looking for a way to get him back.

How hard could it possibly be?

“This won’t do,” he said quietly. “I have to keep myself busy. Dumbledore won’t leave me here to rot. He and the others will find a way. Until then, I just need to find some way to occupy my time.”

As he spoke, he noticed the mail being pushed through the slot in his door. Despite himself, he grinned. That ID kit had been very thorough. So much so that he now received junk mail.

Shaking his head, he went to collect it. Chain letter, chain letter, pizza coupons, chain letter… flyer for a new Egyptian exhibit at the Gotham Museum. Harry grinned. Now, that could be fun. Making sure he was properly equipped, the young wizard headed out.


The museum hadn’t been disappointing. Mountains of gold and jewels, all from one tomb or another, had been put on display. ‘Hope this place has good security,’ he thought. ‘Otherwise, this place’ll get ripped off in no time.

It was then he realized he shouldn’t have gone down that train of thought. Fate knows all, and doesn’t need something to be voiced in order for you to jinx it.

The windows exploded and a group of heavily armed clowns rushed in. Harry supposed it was just going to be one of those days. Well, he’d learned his lesson, no going to museums if you didn’t want to come face to face with a homicidal madman.

Harry froze as an uncomfortable fact made itself known, make that no learning without coming face to face with a homicidal madman. If four years of Hogwarts had taught him anything… Harry frowned. If all of his life experiences had taught him anything, it was that there was always someone out to kill, maim, or otherwise inconvenience Harry Potter. It was like he was the universes’ spittoon or something.

He came back to his senses just in time to see the lead clown pointing a pair of comically large revolvers at a group of school children

Lightning fast, he darted in the path of the massive weapons, catching a bullet in the chest. To his surprise, not to mention relief, it seemed to be made out of foam. Stung like hell, and would probably leave a bruise, but not actually fatal.

“Oh my,” the clown said, chuckling maniacally the whole time. “A new one! Might I have the name of Gotham’s new punisher?”

It took Harry a moment, but he realized this guy must think he was someone along the lines of that Bat weirdo Harry had seen on the telly.

“No heroes here,” Harry said quickly. “I’m allergic to spandex. I’m just a guy on vacation.” Granted it wasn’t a vacation he’d taken by choice, but those words had just seemed so right.

The clown seemed disappointed for a moment, but his mad grin returned without much delay. “Well, I bet you didn’t expect your little trip to turn out like this! Here! Have a souvenir!”

Harry’s hands reached out reflexively to catch the tossed object. It looked like a jack-in-the-box, but Harry doubted that was all. It began to crank itself, playing the familiar ‘Pop Goes the Weasel’ tune.

Da-dum da-dum da-da-da-da-dum, da-dum da-da-da-da-dum, da-dum da-dum da-da-da-da-dum… DA da-da-da-dum.

As the last note played, a clown’s head popped out of the box. Harry blinked. Somehow, he’d expected more.

Suddenly, green gas spewed out of the clown’s wide teeth, spraying Harry in the face. He coughed as the noxious fumes went into his lungs.

For a few seconds, nothing else happened. Then, Harry felt something inside him… shift.


It’s a well-known fact that Wizard biology is nearly identical to that of normal humans. The only real difference is something commonly referred to as the ‘Magical Core’. It is located in the center of the body, near the adrenaline glands. Magical scans can’t get deep enough to really look at it, because of the high amount of energy it produces. Most wizards and witches simply assume that it is a concentrated orb of magic, connected to one’s soul.

A rather romantic view. This is not, however, the case.

The ‘Core’ is, in fact, a gland connected to the endocrine system. However, since no one has ever examined the gland, or the hormone it produces, or even discovered that they exist, they have no proper names.

The hormone enters the bloodstream regularly from birth. It slowly builds up in the wizard or witch’s system, reaching critical concentration at about ten or eleven years of age. A side-effect of this hormone is that it alters human brain chemistry, allowing a person to control and direct the energy known as ‘magic’. Whether this has any other effects on one’s mind is unknown, though it is certainly possible.

‘Magic’ is created when the hormone mixes with blood, adrenaline, and endorphins, creating a unique chemical reaction. As with the ‘Core’, the energy is so intense that the hormone remains undetected in the bloodstream. The energy is largely uncontrolled, and even with the alterations to the brain, a focus totem is usually required, hence the wizards’ invention of wands.

A lesser-known but still important fact, is that Joker Gas, known to the community at large as ‘Smilex’, works by affecting two things. First, the victim’s facial muscles. It renders them extremely loose for about half-a-minute, then freezes them. Second: the endocrine system, pumping up adrenaline and endorphin levels to prompt hysterical laughter.

Obviously, Joker had never used this on a wizard before. The results were, to say the least, peculiar.

As soon as the Smilex toxin hit the blood, Harry began to scream. And scream. And scream. Out of pure reflex, not to mention more magic than he was used to, the young man vanished, leaving only a puff of smoke behind.

Joker was caught, and the whole thing was put out of the public’s mind.

The End?

You have reached the end of "Thank Rao I'm a Hot Chick With Superpowers" – so far. This story is incomplete and the last chapter was posted on 16 Aug 10.

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