+5 against Nazis
“So, Harry, you just co-won the Wizard’s Cup,” the ESPN reporter said. “What are you going to do next?”
“Just this,” Harry said, running over to the copy of their Dark Arts techer. He reached up and pulled off his polyjuice disguise as if it were a rubber mask. “Golly Gee Mister! It’s old man Barty Junior all along!”
“Yes, I was the one who put your name in the hat. I was the same one who cast the imperius curse on Krum. I did it all to arrange the resurrection of the Dark Lord!” The death eater, revealed on live television, decked the young wizard in the face and started running away, about fifty cameras following him. “And it would have worked, too, if it weren’t for you meddlesome kids!”
As they turned the corner, Harry reached up dramatically from the ground, as if to call out to them. “Don’t let him reach the TARDIS!”
Barty Crouch was not able to escape, but did give several exclusive interviews before a dementor gave him a kiss.
“So Pixie, what are you planning on doing with your winnings?”
“I thought I might sell the gold and take a tour,” she said. “I’ve always wanted to see Florida and Brazil.”
“No Skrull Empire tours? No visits to the moon while standing on your head?”
“Oh, of course not, Harry’s the crazy one.”
“So this Rodent of Death is a bad guy?” Harry asked as he munched on a tortilla chip while in the staff room.
“Yes!” said Snape grumpily.
“And he’s the one that killed my biological parents?”
“YES!” McGonagall snapped.
“And now he’s back?”
“YOU JUST TOLD US THAT!” bellowed all the professors in unison.
“Right, so do you know where his hangout is?”
That stopped them short. “Harry, why would you want to know that?” Dumbledore asked slowly in a worried tone.
“I just need to know,” he replied.
“You’re not going to assault his compound alone are you?”
Harry was positively mortified. “No! Of course not! I’m insane, not stupid!”
No one could really argue with that.
“Yes, Harry, we do know where his hideout is,” Dumbledore said slowly. “You see, Professor Snape has been a spy in their organization for a very long time.”
“Great!” Harry said with a winning smile. “Just give me the address and my two plans will take care of everything!”
“Don’t worry, they’re nothing bad.”
Snape wrote down the address and handed it to the boy.
“Great, just hold on a sec. Accio
Doom’s Credit Card!” A black card flew into his hand a moment before Harry pulled out his mobile and started dialing. “Hi, is this The House of Pizza? Thanks, well, I’m in kind of a bind, you see I’ve got some friends that are having a big party and I can’t be there at the last minute. I promised I’d bring pizza, but I won’t be there. This is going to be a big order and I was hoping to use my credit card…so you don’t need to actually see it? ... Great! … My name? Doctor Victor Von Doom. Let’s see, that’s 4400…”
After it was over the professors looked at him blankly.
“You just bought him pizza? That was your plan?” Snape demanded angrily.
“Did I say I was done? No!” Harry said, before dialing a different number. “Hello, Doctor Doom?”
“YES, THIS IS DOOM! WHO DARES CALL ON DOOM’S PRIVATE NUMBER?”
“Great, I’m from the Credit Card investigative service and we just got a suspicious hit on your card.”
“WHERE IS IT?”
Harry gave him the address of the Rodent of Death.
“YOU HAVE DONE WELL, AND SHALL BE REWARDED FOR YOUR SERVICE!”
“Thank you, good Doctor! Have a nice day!” Harry said warmly. He snapped his mobile shut and look back up at the Hogwarts staff. “That was my plan.”
“Harry, I do hope you haven’t doomed that poor man to torture and death,” Dumbledore cautioned.
“Oh, trust me, Vic can take care of himself, and he isn’t doomed. He is
DOOM,” Harry assured the Headmaster. “Now to enact my other plan. Just so happens that his is a perfect opportunity to use the teleporter my Wonder-Mutant-Dad gave me for my upcoming birthday.”
And with that, Harry teleported out of Hogwarts, something no one was supposed to be able to do.
Moments later Snape would be informed that the Rodent’s Evil Headquarters needed a new location as the previous one was covered by killer robots in green cloaks.
He made his way through the streets of London until he found a married couple’s dentist’s practice. He burst in with excessive drama to where their daughter was busy studying for her Fifth year at that magic school. Harry couldn’t remember the name. It wasn’t like it was important.
“Harry?” Hermione asked in surprise at the overly dramatic entrance.
“I have a plan!” Harry said. “Hermione Granger! You have been Chosen!”
Later, Harry burst into the Burrow to where the Weasleys were having their midday meal (except for those who were at work, of course). Harry opened the door wearing an eyepatch and smoking a rubber cigar. He’d even put a bit of flour in his hair above each ear for the finishing touches.
“Ronald Weasley! You have been Chosen!”
Harry, still wearing his best Nick Fury costume, kicked in the door to the dilapidated Malfoy Mansion. He pointed a doorknob at Draco and grinned.
“Draco Malfoy! You have been Chosen!”
Cedric Diggory was sitting in his room making plays for the upcoming Quidditch season at Hogwarts. There was a flash of light, and suddenly the instigator of the Rebellion was before him.
“Cedric Diggory! You have been Chosen!”
“For the Revolution!”
Harry teleported to his final choice with a thunder clap.
“Rita Skeeter! You have been Chosen!”
“What the hell?”
Far away, in a separate realm all together, Wise and Powerful Odin sat on his chair, observing Midgard below.
“Yes,” he said stroking his beard. “I see.”
He turned to one of his ravens and whispered something in his ear.
The raven flew off, soaring above the clouds, flying past hill and dale, until it came to rest on the shoulder Neville Longbottom, the Aesir trained Wizard, who was currently lost somewhere in the wilds of downtown New York City.
The raven whispered Odin’s message in the Viking Wizard’s ear. Neville nodded, causing three women to faint with glee at the English Adonis. “Aye, most verily, Thought, I shalt do as the All Father commands.”
And with that, he threw his sword into the sky, holding onto the strap and flew in the general direction of the British Isles. Hours later he landed along the Scotland/England border where a number of other familiar faces had gathered.
“Great! Everybody’s here,” Harry Potter said. “Let’s begin.”
“Why are we here?” Hermione Granger asked.
“Because we’re going to be the Magic Avengers,” Harry said, as if it explained everything.
“Why’s he here?” both Draco and Ron asked, each pointing at the other.
“Because Draco is going to be Aluminum-Lad and Ron's Captain Hogwarts,” Harry said, once again as if it explained everything.
“Who?” both asked.
“Why am I here?” Skeeter asked.
“Because you’re the Beetle,” Harry responded.
“Me?” Hermione asked, almost dreading the reason.
“The Crimson Witch,” Harry said. He gestured to Pixie, who waved. “And the lovely, beautiful Pixie will be our obligatory mutant with stabby implement.”
“What about Conan there?” Hermione asked, pointing a thumb at the black haired muscley Viking who looked like he crawled out of Playgirl.
“I don’t have a name, but he’s quite clearly our Thor alligator,” Harry said.
“Don’t you mean allegory?” Pixie asked.
“Yes, that’s exactly what I mean.”
“What is this supposed to be, I still don’t understand?” Skeeter asked once more.
“We are going to be Earth’s Greatest Magical Heroes,” Harry said.
“Wait, so I get it,” Hermione said. “I’m supposed to be based off the Scarlet Witch?”
“Yep and once I find a robot for you to fall in love with and have imaginary babies with it will be complete,” Harry said. They boggled at him, but the Gryffindor brushed it off.
“And Ron is based off Captain America,” Hermione continued.
“Who?” asked Ron. She ignored him.
“And Draco is Iron-Man?”
“Yep, at least until his self-destructive alcoholism Slash racism causes us to break up on world television,” Harry said. “But you’ll have a part in that when you go insane and try to kill everybody. I also need to find you a really fast brother.”
“But who is the reporter?”
“Wasp,” Harry said honestly. “I was going to find her an abusive, psychotic, drug addicted husband to round out the roster, but Pixie reminded me that wasn’t a good idea.”
“Who are you Pixie?”
“Wolverine,” Pixie said. “I told him Laura was a better choice, but she doesn’t know any magic.”
“Why are you doing this?” Draco said. “What reason do I have to do this?”
“Other than that I used the same ability that the guy who put my name in a burning cup to add all your names to a magically binding contract,” Harry said, “no there isn’t any reason. I suppose you could quit, but it will cost you your magic.”
Harry just shrugged innocently. “Magically binding contract. Hey, I had to do something to make you obey.”
Hermione grabbed him by the shirt and picked him up off the ground in a fit of rage fueled strength. “What exactly did this contract involve?”
“You can’t reveal your secret identity except to people who already know it.”
“You are required to take extraordinary measures to make sure people forget or don’t believe you are who you say you are if they do find out your identity. Especially your significant others.”
“And you can self monologue and other people can’t hear it. You get this really cool, half mask thing going on when you do it, too.”
“And you are required to wear really awesome and stylish costumes in primary colors.”
"And you have to be Super-Heroes."
“That’s about it,” Harry said.
“About?” she said threateningly.
“No clauses about how we’re forced to follow the same fate as the originals?”
“No, Pixie made sure that didn’t happen.”
“Will you put me down now?”
“I’ll think about it,” Hermione said a moment before she whipped out her wand and levitated him onto a tree branch. “Who are you supposed to be?”
“Oh, I’m the Hulk, obviously,” Harry said. “You’re all gonna band up when I go on a rampage caused by Loki and be called together by my plucky sidekick to save me, even if you all think I’m at fault.”
“YOU ARE AT FAULT!” Everyone except Pixie and Neville said.
“Nay, ‘tis a most noble cause ye hath taken part in,” the Aesir trained wizard said. “’Twould be most righteous to join.”
“Thanks Neville,” Harry said. Everyone whipped their heads around to look at the Viking-esque warrior.
“Neville Longbottom? Really?” Ron asked. Hermione, Rita and Draco looked at him like he was a piece of meat. And then Draco realized there were others present and sneered.
“Aye, ‘tis true,” Neville said.
“What happened?” Ron asked.
“Mine Friend Harry didst grant me his wand and I ‘twas transported to the great city of Aesgard, Where I did learn much from the Norse Gods. Heimdall didst grant me his favor and now I doth fight in his honor.”
“Riiiight…” they said in unison.
“And now, If I mightst be excused, I hath a Dwarven Draught to grant to mine parents,” he said a moment before flying off.
“What powers do I have?” Ron asked Harry.
“None yet, you’ll get them once I get down,” Harrry replied. The boy let him down off the tree branch and struck a pose. “Okay, now strap yourself into this conveniently placed chair and let me stab you with this ridiculously huge syringe.”
Ron screamed like a defenestrated puppy and ran away.
“If you run you’ll never get the Super Wizard Serum!”
“You also get a really cool shield. I made it myself; It’s Nazi-Bane and it’s got a +5 against Nazis.”
Ron turned around. He didn’t know what that meant, but it sounded cool.
“You get to wear chainmail.”
Ron started walking back. Chainmail was always cool, maybe he could be like one of those Wizarding Knights of old.
Then he saw the SIZE
of the syringe and ran away again.
At this point, Rita Skeeter looked at her notes and realized that they just said “I am a banana” over and over and over again.
“What am I doing here?” Cedric Diggory asked once Harry had chased down Ron and stabbed him repeatedly with the Super Wizard Serum Syringe.
“Oh, since you’re the only natural blond here, you get to be Mr. Marvel and have awesome cosmic powers,” Harry answered. I haven’t figured out how to do that yet, but I will. There’s only a fifty percent chance of you getting cancer.”
“Oh, no, I’m a Libra,” Cedric said. He glanced down at the gibbering mass that once was Ron Weasley. “Is he supposed to be bleeding like that?”