Chapter 18

Harry said nothing in response as he breathed and went over to the bench to grab a bottle of water to drink from.

"Kid, you're ready. I really don't have anything left to teach you. Go, make your mark in the world." Ducard said after a moment.

"You sure I'm ready?" Harry asked as he turned to look at his mentor.

"More than sure. Just don't forget to retrain if you feel yourself slipping. The only danger you have is getting overconfident. Other than that, you ready to take on the world. Just make sure S.H.I.E.L.D. doesn't know what you're doing."

"What about your payment?" Harry asked, feelings a little mixed.

Ducard raised his hand up to stop Harry before he could start.

"No payment is necessary. I won't have any need for it anyway. You just do what you do best. That's payment enough for me." The man said, a small smirk tugging on one side of his mouth.

Harry simply nodded his head, knowing that any more would not be appreciated by the stoic man who'd become his first real father-figure.

"Need a ride to get back into town?" he asked.

"No, I'm good. I can get back on my own." Harry said as he turned to walk away. Several miles of walking later, disapparated back into one of the alleyways near his place. Upon arriving, he immediately headed towards his apartment. Without a word, he walked right past the doorman and straight into the elevator.

Once inside, Harry heads to his bag and digs out his school books from Hogwarts. It was about time he looked them over and figured out the spells and charms he would be able to use in this world.

One of the first things on the agenda was to make his home "bug"-proof. If he'd picked up anything from Hermione, it was that the magic of Hogwarts made electronics go haywire. He also knew that the more delicate the electronics, the more susceptible they were to the magical interference. He needed to find the rune scheme with the right balance that would allow his own electronics to work while frying any unauthorized ones. Luckily, as far as Ducard had been able to impart to him, surveillance bugs tended to be on the high end of delicate. He didn't look forward to the idea of trying to figure out how the Ministry, St. Mungo's, and Diagon Alley contained their magic from the outside world.

Harry dove into his books to find out as much as he could. He became so engrossed in his reading, time passed without acknowledgement. He probably would've read straight through to the next day if a 'caw' hadn't surprised him out of his tunnel-vision. He was shocked to look up through his window and see a raven, no the same raven as that morning, standing on the handrail of his balcony.

"Did you follow me?" Harry asked in amazement as he got up and slid the door open to approach the raven.

The raven blinked and turned its head as it looked at Harry.

Harry wondered if this was a sign of some sorts. He knew superstition believed it was unlucky if a raven crossed your path. He was sure Professor Trelawney would have made a big scene over the fact he had a death omen following him, much like that time when he had a grim in his tea cup.

The raven took off, drawing Harry's attention to the city beyond his balcony. There was so much in his life he'd ignored due to wallowing in his own grief. One thing, however, had stuck with him from childhood. His experiences with Dudley and Uncle Vernon had instilled an almost pathological hatred of bullies. He'd tried, over the years, to be someone who stood up to bullies. It was about time he did so again. He had to be careful, though, lest he become what he hated.

He wasn't going to be a Robin Hood, robbing from the rich and giving to the poor. He wasn't out to overthrow the government and install himself as a benevolent dictator, whether covertly or overtly. He had absolutely no desire to rule. He merely wanted to protect people, but he knew that even that would make him enemies. Not only villains or other Enhances would be after him, but also governments. After all, governments didn't have the best track record in dealing with things outside of their control. They would either try to control him, or experiment on him to see if they could make their own, fanatically loyal, version of him. That thought was enough to send a shiver down his spine. Thank Merlin, Voldemort had never tried to go that route. Either way, all of this led up to the fact that it was vital that he keep his identity hidden.

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