Harry Potter: Syndicate of Heroes

The hotel that the little Indian taxi driver - Manish, according to the little plastic card that Harry'd taken care to memorise so that he'd know the name of his potential killer, a likely outcome with the way the man seemed to ignore even the most basic of road rules - had taken him to was mediocre at best. Harry'd definitely stayed in a lot worse places, though. It had its own bathroom, which was a plus, as well as a bed that was only marginally lumpy in places. The fact that the woman behind the counter when he checked in was Indian explained exactly why he'd been brought there.

Harry, though, wasn't overly concerned; he had no intention of staying there long.

And thus, he was out exploring the area, learning about this new city that he'd found himself in.

New York City, Harry quickly realised, was very aptly named. The 'City That Never Sleeps', was a hive of millions of people and cars, all hustling and bustling every which way in their important lives. In terms of people, it reminded him a lot of the largest cities that he'd experienced in India and China. But in terms of buildings, it was more comparable to Tokyo. Skyscrapers towered above him, each vying to be the biggest, the tallest, the most ostentatious.

The Empire State Building was clearly one of the most impressive, even if it was no longer the tallest. Oscorp Tower was another that stuck out against the skyline. The Chrysler Building was amazing. And then there were the older buildings, the ones built with more charm than glass, like the Baxter building.

As Harry wandered from street to street, he found that even more towers were planned for the mega city. The ground was still in the process of being cleared for one called Stark Tower. Idly, he wondered what distinctiveness it would bring to the New York skyline - would it be impressively tall or designed more artistically; would it be filled with glass windows or perhaps even a helicopter landing pad on the roof?

The further that he walked, the more that Harry was forced to dodge and weave his way through the crowds. It seemed that no matter which way he decided to go, it was always against the crowd. More times than he cared to count, he was bumped and jostled, sometimes even into poles or signs on the sidewalk.

Deciding that he'd had enough of fighting the crowds, Harry took the next right, sighing in relief as he found himself on a less populated street. Here, the buildings seemed slightly smaller, only standing between three and six stories tall. They also had a slightly older feel to them, as though the technological advances of the past decade or so had left them behind.

Even the very sight of these buildings felt more welcoming. Instead of concrete, steel and glass, almost all were made of old red brick. Here and there, if one cared to look closely enough, wood trim on some of the buildings enhanced the old-world feel.

Feeling some of the tension that had begun to build in his back and neck begin to ease, Harry slowed his pace.

This.

This was an area that he felt comfortable in, a neighbourhood that he felt that he could settle in, at least for however long he decided to stay in North America, which, judging by how long he'd spent in the other continents, could easily be a year. But, then, he realised, if he had a base to come back to instead of simply wandering from place to place, that one year could very easily stretch to several. It wasn't as though he was in a hurry to get anywhere.

The smell of fresh bread hit his nostrils and he turned, following the urging of his growling stomach.

The bakery was small, with a counter near the back wall and several tables and chairs set just inside the door. A flash of movement from the corner of his eye drew his attention to the T.V. in the corner, the newscaster on the screen droning on about something that Harry had no idea about.

A chocolate scroll and cappuccino were quickly ordered and given to him. He was just about to leave when the flash of multiple explosions on the television caught his attention.

Harry moved to the side and absently leant against the wall as the amazing images continued to roll. Most of them were tiny and blurry, obviously shot from a long way away. But others ... they were the ones that really caught his attention. There seemed to be two metal ... men. One, the smaller of the two, was Gryffindor to a tee, all shiny red and gold. The other was a flat grey and seemed the more powerful of the two.

The cameras had caught some kind of fight between the two, one where cars, buses and buildings alike were demolished in great numbers. At the end, after a massive explosion at some place called 'Stark Industries', the images shifted to show a newsroom.

"And now we cross live to where Tony Stark himself will be giving a statement about the incident between Iron Man and the Iron Monger," the young news reporter stated.