In this story, I will explore various aspects of friendships even under extreme duress. Also, I absolutely love the fatherly relationship between Peter Parker and Tony Stark, which I will try to replicate to the best of my ability. Banner's complex 'power' also intrigues me.



Repetitive spell-casting in the heat of battle was addictive, at least this was what his godfather had told him once during their last Christmas together. He had heard his uncle, who had been in the RAF, discussing the same topic in muggle terms with his old army buddies. And now he was experiencing it himself: adrenaline consumed his body and a sort of foreign sense of calm overtook his mind, allowing him to execute magic that he had previously thought impossible from a fifth year Hogwarts student. He was barely casting spells any longer, now using his will more than anything. Even Sirius was giving him impressed looks as they battled Death-Eater after Death-Eater.

They had partnered up early in the battle; their styles synced easily and worked as a powerful tandem. As Harry bested the latest in a long line of Death-Eaters, another one instantly stepped forth. And even though he wore his mask and a hooded, black cloak, his long, blond hair instantly betrayed him. Sirius managed to down his current opponent as well, and a female figure stepped up to take his place. She was dressed in a very vulgar fashion and had chosen to abandon her mask early on in the battle.

"Potter," Lucius Malfoy said with a sneer as he waved his wand and dispelled the mask.

"Oh, cousin dearest!" Bellatrix exclaimed as she turned on said man, her new opponent. Sirius didn't say a word as he directed his wand at her. He and Harry exchanged a glance, to make sure that the other was ready.

"Aw, Potter and Black, didn't think I'd see that combination again," Bellatrix continued in a taunting tone.

"What is it with bad guys and monologuing?" Sirius taunted back, falling into her trap and succumbing to his emotions.

A goading smile spread over her lips; Sirius had lowered his wand, as he instinctively threatened her with his physical form instead of with magic. This was exactly what Bellatrix had expected so that when she cast her first spell, it hit Sirius square in the chest. An Avada Kedavra.

"Sirius!" Harry cried, throwing himself in front of his godfather, just a few seconds too late. Instantly, the two Death-Eaters began throwing spells at him and with a cry of desperation Harry was forced to cast a magnificent defensive shield.

It held up by his will alone as he turned away from the Dark wizards and dropped to his knees at Sirius' side. His wand dropped from his hand, right beside his feet. He felt his magic straining to keep the two expert Death-Eaters at bay, but perhaps in this moment it was this enhanced emotional state that bolstered it to new heights of power.

For Sirius lay in front of him, mouth propped open in a snarl and yet his eyes stared unseeingly into the distance, dead.

"Sirius… S-Sirius!" Harry cried again, shaking the man's body. It was still warm and felt much like a live body: but the heart was silent, so were his lungs.

Harry's defensive shield was starting to flake off, like old paint, and he was forced to let Sirius' head drop to the ground so that he could fight for his life, which his rational side was urging him to do. It took much physical and emotional strain to get to his feet and turn back to the two Death-Eaters.

He fuelled his magic with all the anger that had been building up all year, the frustration, and the desperation that he felt at seeing Sirius die, willing it to destroy. His shield dropped, and yet his magical aura flared around him causing any spell that came in his vicinity to dissipate out of existence. This was the first time that Harry saw true fear in the eyes of Lucius Malfoy and Bellatrix Lestrange.

With a burst of pure will, Harry blast them away, eyes flaming with hatred. His father, dead. His mother, sacrificed. His godfather, murdered. How many more was he to lose before enough was enough?

In an instant, both Death-Eaters were back on their feet and were running straight at him. It was only now that Harry realised that his wand lay next to Sirius' body and that he had been casting all this magic without it. However, the battle didn't allow him much time to muse on such things because suddenly Bellatrix and Lucius were giving all they had to fight him off.

With fury, he fought them back; magic coursed through his body so easily that it made him wonder whether it was him casting it at all.

"Potter… what—" Bellatrix was physically straining: a sheen of sweat had broken out on her forehead. In the next instant, however, Harry managed to nick her with a bolt of pure energy. Her shoulder was jerked back in a brilliant burst of muscle, sinew, and blood. She cried out: her face turned pale and she collapsed to the ground, clutching her appendage.

Worry entered Lucius' countenance. Harry's maliciousness became itself known when with a harsh movement of his arm, commanded his magic to slash open Lucius' chest. Layer of robes and skin ripped open, exposing the ribcage. The Death-Eater gasped and dropped to his knees. His wand tumbled out of his hand, landing on the butt of the handle and then rolling off into the darkness.

This battle momentarily done with, Harry spun around, intending to get to Sirius' side, but found that during his skirmish with Lucius, they had battled around the Veil, to its other side. Harry walked around the archway: the air in it rippled like water and he was almost certain that he could hear whispers emerging from within it. He gingerly walked around it, staring at it with awe, and only then began running over to his godfather.

Quickly he found, that he wasn't moving. Around him battles continued to take place, and he continued to hear screams of pain as joints popped out of their sockets, scars were created, and people were murdered. But he was frozen on the spot, as though he were running on a treadmill. Something was pulling him back.

He gasped out a cry, trying to get Lupin's attention — he was fighting Dolohov — but the man seemed to take no notice of him. The force trying to hold him back was getting stronger; whatever it was it was literally dragging him towards the Veil. He grabbed hold of one of the archway's columns, holding on to it for dear life, even as his legs were pulled into the current. In mere seconds, he was parallel to the ground.

Harry's hearing was starting to get worse. His vision was staring to blur. His fingers were slipping form the cold stone, nails scratching at it as he shouted for help. He felt like a little boy, screaming his throat raw.

"Lupin… HERMIONE! Someone! HELP!"

No one answered his screams of help. The world was dead to him.

Seconds later, he slipped past the archway and disappeared into nothingness and he became dead to the world.


And then he woke up in Central Park.