Harry Potter: Syndicate of Heroes

Harry still wasn't sure about the large screen television that he'd mounted in the corner of the Den. Sure, it was out of the way and unobtrusive and he kept the volume mostly on mute, but still, he was sure that it took something away from the atmosphere of the place. The fact that it'd been one of the most requested things in the suggestion box that he'd placed on the end of the bar for close to two months meant that he'd finally caved and bought the thing.

Unfortunately, he'd installed the thing three days before the start of the big Stark Expo that was taking place over in Flushing Meadows.

Initially, Harry'd had no interest in the thing – magic and technology didn't exactly get along too well unless you were one of the Japanese technomages or knew someone who could teach you enough runes to dampen the magic like he'd learnt during his couple of months in Japan. But then, due to, once again, popular demand, Harry'd started watching the all Stark Expo channel over the last couple of days and was now starting to reconsider.

Obviously, he'd make sure to keep his wand holstered, but judging by what he'd heard that some of the technology that was being shown and developed in the various pavilions could do, it sounded like it could be interesting.

Just as long as he managed to avoid Stark himself. The man was such a showboat. How anyone could crave the constant media attention the way Stark did was beyond Harry's comprehension. Harry'd had that before and it was one of the reasons why he'd left Britain in the first place.

"Hey, could you turn that up?" a guy at one the tables asked, a forkful of Sheppard's pie in one hand as he gestured to the television with the other.

Harry paused where he was and looked over at the TV. In blaring letters across the screen, were the words 'Breaking News'. Curious, Harry complied.

"… DiFilipo has been replaced by Tony Stark," the announcer was saying. "Judging by his reaction, DiFilipo is less than impressed, but as the owner, Tony Stark has the right to choose his own driver for the Historic Grand Prix of Monaco."

Harry shook his head in wonder. Granted, he didn't know much about racecar driving, but pulling out your main driver for something that sounded so prestigious sounded like benching your number one seeker in a World Cup match. The guy was an egotistical maniac. But when you've got that much money and you're Iron Man and can take on pretty much anyone in the world, Harry guessed that he could get away with it. Didn't make him any less of a prat, though.

It was sometime later that Harry finally tuned in again. And that was more in response to his customers than anything else. Disbelief and horror in their voices, combined with the fact that every single person there was engrossed in what the TV was showing had him looking up.

And what he saw amazed him.

A man with some type of contraption strapped to him and long, thick cords crackling with energy at the end of his hands was throwing Iron Man about. Half destroyed cars and flaming wreckage surrounded the two. Iron Man's suit was burnt in paces and it seemed that it wasn't in full working condition.

Finally, Iron Man seemed to catch a second wind and began winding one of the energy whips about his body, nullifying its potential to do damage. One final punch knocked the pretender down before Iron Man ripped out the source of the man's energy.

Harry may never have had that great of an impression of Tony Stark, but Iron Man, that was a different story. He could recognise something in the suited hero – a grim determination to get the job done and to stand up to bullies, no matter what it took.

ooo00ooo

Neville would be ashamed, Harry decided.

Walking into his rooftop greenhouse, he'd stopped to take note of the wilting plants or the ones that were beginning to outgrow their pots. Everything in here needed a lot of TLC.

If he'd been wearing a long-sleeved shirt, Harry would have pushed the sleeves up, prepared for a long few hours in a desperate attempt to right the wrongs that he'd done to these plants.

Really, it was his own fault. Too many long hours every day was wearing him thin. Yes, every new business required it to make sure that it survived the first encounter with the public, or at least, that's what the business management books that he'd scoured seemed to say. And while hiring some help had lessened some of the workload, Harry knew that he was putting in far too much time to be healthy in the long run.

And as for his plans to do some travelling around the continent, he didn't actually think he'd gone any further than a couple of blocks since he'd opened the Den. No, something had to be done and soon. It wasn't like he couldn't afford to hire more staff, there was still plenty of gold in the bank, after all.