Disclaimer: I do not own Harry Potter or DC Comics.

It's a Snitch, It's a Broom, It's…

A Harry Potter/DC Comics crossover


The sun was shining high above Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry and there was not a single dark cloud in the cerulean sky. A light breeze was blowing from the north—not too cold, but just perfect for balancing the heat. All in all, it was a perfect day for Quidditch. This was actually rather fortuitous, as it was the day of the Quidditch Cup finals between Slytherin and Gryffindor.

Raucous cheering filled the stadium as the students screamed, cheered, and sang chants for their chosen team. The score was tied at seventy-even, and Marcus Flint, the Slytherin captain, was worried. If it came to a match between seekers, well, Potter's record spoke for itself. Barring a surprise visit by a horde of Dementors, Flint had little hope that Malfoy could win on his own. He signaled the green-clad beaters to focus on the Gryffindor seeker.

Perched atop his Firebolt, Harry flew high above the stadium. His scarlet robes billowed behind him as he twisted and spiraled in lazy circles. With the sunlight at his back, he looked down on the players below like a sun god watching over his dominion. From the stands, the golden "S" on his chest, for "seeker", was barely visible.

Hermione screamed, but her single voice couldn't be heard over the cacophony of the four houses.

Harry never saw the bludger coming. He did, however, turn at the exact right moment for the iron ball to slam directly into his face.

Cries of surprise and upset rang out across the stadium, but within moments an eerie quiet had settled over the grounds. Harry blinked in shock, his hand tentatively coming up to gently prod his nose.


He hadn't even been unseated from his broom.

The only thing broken was his glasses, and he was amazed to find that he could actually see better without them. For months now he'd just assumed that he needed an update on his prescription.

With surprisingly clear vision, he peered down at the ground below and then at his surroundings. Everyone, including the other players, was watching him. Madam Hooch's whistle cut through the silence and Harry shrugged as he flew down to land beside her. A few feet away, a knot of teachers stood around something on the ground. The Quidditch captains soon joined them.

Snape was the first to speak. Well, shout really.

"Potter is obviously cheating! I call for a forfeit from Gryffindor."

"Now wait just a minute…"

But McGonagall was cut off when Dumbledore signaled for silence. Harry inched closer to see what the ruckus was all about.

Lying on the ground was a bludger, cracked neatly in two. Harry squinted, getting a closer look at it. Was that…an imprint of his nose?

Dumbledore looked at Harry expectantly, but he only shrugged, just as confused as everyone else. As Snape was about to start shouting again, both Dumbledore and Madam Hooch drew their wands and began scanning Harry for any illegal charms.

Of course, he came up clean. Just as he knew he would.

Within minutes, a replacement bludger was found and the two teams were back in the air. Once again the seekers were scouring the pitch, looking for any hint of the golden snitch. But this time Malfoy seemed leery of Harry and tried to stay as far away from him as possible.

The Gryfindor was hovering above the Slytherin goals when he saw Malfoy suddenly dive. Harry's eyes, which seemed to glow an unearthly green now that they were no longer hidden by his glasses, searched for his intended target. There, a mere three feet above the ground, he saw a glint of the golden snitch. He flattened himself along his broom and pushed his Firebolt to its maximum speed.

Unfortunately, the snitch was across the field and Malfoy was only meters from it. Even with his Firebolt, Harry knew he'd never make it in time. Out of sheer desire to win—and perhaps a hint of desperation to keep Malfoy from doing the same—he thought to himself, I need to go faster.

As though the thought itself was the key, a massive boom echoed throughout the stadium, leaving cries of shock and fear in its wake. For a split second, the world went out of focus as colors and objects blurred around him. Harry panicked and with another mental shout screamed for everything to stop. With a sudden snap, the world was in focus once more.

Harry looked down to find himself hovering high above Black Lake.

Hovering without a broom.

Tentatively, Harry tried moving forward and backward, up and down. The sensation was nothing like flying on his broomstick. In fact, the Firebolt was downright cumbersome in comparison. Now, he felt weightless and free. Harry rocketed back toward the stadium, luckily without the sonic boom that accompanied his first burst of speed. He paid no attention to the stunned audience as he flew laps of the pitch, winding between players and gliding low over the grass before climbing skyward and plummeting down once more. In a moment of pure, unadulterated joy, Harry threw back his head and shouted to the onlookers below.


His words were enough to shatter the silence, and soon both Snape and Malfoy were screaming once again.


Author's Note: Being a DC fan first and a Harry Potter fan second, I simply cannot help it that every time I see a story labeled as "Super!Harry", this is the mental image I get. Nine times out of ten, it's enough to start me giggling, too. It's the comic book geek in me, I suppose.

Also, I agonized over whether to have Harry shout out "brilliant", "awesome", or "so cool" at the end of the fic. So a warm thank you to the guys at livejournal's hp_britglish community for all their help and opinions. You guys rock!