Harry, Wanda, and Fleur enjoyed a lovely day as tourists. They traveled all over New York, making liberal use of the city's famed taxis to keep the girls from having to tax their shaky legs too hard. They visited the Empire State Building, the Statue of Liberty, Central Park, and various smaller attractions in between.
It was a pleasant day. Harry always liked spending time outside of British wizarding circles where he wouldn't be subjected to celebrity treatment. Walking around New York, the only reason he was turning heads was his handsome face, rather than the mythos attached to his name. It wasn't quite anonymity but he could happily accept this state of affairs.
Instead of a reservation, they checked in for the night at the hotel that looked the best to them after traveling the city all day. It wasn't a busy time of year, so they found a room in an ultramodern building full of glass walls that was only a ten minute walk away from Dr. Strange's sanctum.
Getting to sleep was quite easy once they made it to the evening, since their bodies were five hours ahead. Fleur, Harry, and Wanda ended up sharing one bed, even though there were two in the room. They didn't mess around and got straight to sleep, too jetlagged for any funny business. Harry was in the middle, his arms extended, while Wanda and Fleur used his sizable biceps for pillows.
Wanda was the first one awake the following morning. Naturally an early riser, Harry woke up at six in the morning to find that Wanda was already completely dressed.
She had squeezed into the blouse and skirt combo that they purchased at Sugar and Spice. Harry sat up while Fleur, still passed out, groaned and groped the pillow searching for his missing warmth.
Perched at the edge of the bed, Harry rested his chin on his fist and admired Wanda's body. When she went one way, he could see her pretty face with its scrunched up frown, and when she turned back and went the other way, he could see that lovely arse making her skirt curve.
"Nervous?" Harry asked.
"How can I not be?" Wanda asked. "The Dark Hold is gone… We're telling the truth about that. What if they bring up Westview? What if they decide, after everything, that I'm too dangerous to be allowed to be free? I don't know if I could disagree."
"Well, I could," Harry said. "Westview was your fault, and it's a good thing you aren't running from it. But you saved the WORLD, Wanda. You were on the frontlines against Thanos. You can do so much more good if you're not locked away because a few old wizards got scared."
Wanda stopped pacing. "If that's what they decide, they can say I'm guilty. Steven arguing for me doesn't guarantee that I'll win this case. It's out of our hands."
Harry snorted.
"They're welcome to try and arrest you," Harry said. "A small part of me hopes that they do. I've always wanted to banish some of those pretentious fucks into a wall. Sure, I need a wand, like they're always making fun of my kind for… Wait until they see what that wand can do."
"Don't fight for me," Wanda said. "I'm not worth it."
"Respectfully? I fucking disagree," Harry said. He wasn't a big curser; he typically reserved it for special occasions, like this one, where his thoughts needed something extra in order to properly convey them. "Like I said, I'm making my own choices here. It shouldn't even come to that in the first place. If they do their job like they're supposed to and that "Sorcerer Supreme" isn't all talk, you'll be a free woman again by this afternoon."
Wanda nodded to psych herself up. Despite this and Harry's pep talk, she was soon pacing again. When Fleur sat up, stretching in a way that accentuated her massive breasts in her nightshirt, she looked at Wanda and blinked sleepily.
"Nervous?" Fleur queried, pointing at Wanda.
"Yeah," Harry said.
Fleur sighed and smiled in a forgiving way. She crawled to the edge of the bed, bearing her cleavage and showing, to Harry who was behind her, that she was wearing no shorts, just a big shirt with panties underneath. He could spot her cameltoe.
"Come 'ere!" Fleur cried.
She pounced on Wanda like a cougar. Wanda cried out with surprise, her eyes glowing red for a second before she realized it was just Fleur. The part-veela's leaping tackle took both of them to the ground.
"Fleur!" Wanda said. "My appearance!"
Fleur had managed to pin and straddle Wanda. At the moment she was shamelessly groping Wanda's breasts.
"Yes… You look VERY nice," Fleur said. "So nice that I ought to eat you up."
Fleur got her mouth to Wanda's neck and started leaving hickeys, squeezing Wanda's tits through her blouse.
"Nhn!" Wanda moaned. "I mean, wait!"
She pushed Fleur up, who pouted fiercely at being denied her snack.
"I have to look nice for my trial!" Wanda said. "It will help their impression of me!"
It was something they had all collectively agreed upon. When Wanda did her hair, dressed stylishly, and had exquisite makeup on, it helped her look like the hero version of herself, rather than a broken woman laboring under the Darkhold's influence.
Fleur, however, was intent on getting her lips on her.
"Wanda, your trait eez not for many 'ours. Play with me, instead of worrying about such things!" Fleur said.
Her persistence to nip Wanda's body paid off, with the ex-Avenger giving in and letting Fleur ravish her. Harry watched Fleur rub Wanda's crotch with her knee and kiss the woman on the lips and cheeks.
"I'm going to go out for coffee," Harry said dryly. "I'll be back soon."
His only answer was a bunch of moans coming from the floor. Harry shook his head, smiling at their antics. Usually, he would have joined in, but the time difference was doing a number on his head and he needed caffeine.
The humid air meant that it was already quite hot when he stepped outside. Harry found a pleasant coffee shop and tried not to hold up the line too much as he counted out American, Muggle money. It was definitely not his strong suit. He stepped onto the street and sipped from his coffee, immediately feeling invigorated. He sighed happily, smiling from the taste and its effect on him.
Harry was standing out of the way, drinking his drink, when he spotted someone running. Harry squinted at her. As it turned out, it was a girl dressed in dark purple spandex that clung to her body. It looked like she was a little bit younger than Harry, with a very pretty face and an athletic thick body. Harry's eyes settled on the bow she was carrying. Not only was this girl running, she was doing it down the middle of the road.
"Away!" She threw her hand out for Harry and anyone else who was watching her. "Run away!"
The ground shook a little bit. Harry frowned. He might've thought he imagined it, if his coffee didn't ripple.
"RUN!" Bow Girl screamed.
Someone honked at her for blocking traffic. Nobody listened… Until the eldritch horror came around the corner.
It ran like a spider on massive tentacles that could have belonged to a squid. In the middle of its body was an enormous red eye that darted rapidly, hunting for something. Bow Girl turned in a half circle and shot an arrow.
Her aim was perfect. If the monster's pupil were turned into an olympic target, the shot would've been worth ten points. The monster proved itself to be faster than arrows, though, when it slapped it away with one of its tentacles. Harry wasn't sure an arrow would pierce this thing's body, even if it hit the eye. Whatever he was looking at was a total monstrosity.
NOW everyone ran. They should've listened to Bow Girl. Since they all ran at the same time, too late, they stampeded each other and knocked others over. Lots of people tripped. Harry's arm was jostled and his coffee spilled. He scowled, drawing his wand.
"I have a trial that I'm supposed to be thinking about," Harry said. "You should really fuck off!"
Like he said, he saved the cuss words for when it was really time for them.
Bow Girl was still shooting arrows. They weren't doing much good but Harry respected that she was trying. Based on her outfit, it seemed like she was some kind of superhero. He'd heard about an Avenger like that. His name was… Hawkeye?
She was successfully getting the monster's attention. It thrashed a tentacle down, forcing her to dive away. It hit a taxi cab that was sitting with its doors open, the driver and occupants having abandoned it to run. The car was crushed by the monster, spraying glass.
Harry apparated in front of Bow Girl. His magical appearance and the noise that accompanied it made her train her bow on him. Harry hoped she wouldn't shoot. He was busy.
"Protego Maxima!" Harry said.
He didn't take chances and made a powerful shield over the two of them. Three tentacles started beating on it, failing to break through. Harry eyed the force of each impact with a bit of caution. While not enough to rupture his shield spells, it would clearly kill him if it hit his body.
It was apparently time to bring out the kinds of spells he hadn't needed for a while.
Before Harry could launch a magical assault, the beast staggered. There had been a war cry and a heavy impact. Harry spotted a hispanic girl next to its main body. She'd taken a running leap and landed a punch that was as powerful as the monster's attacks. Clearly, this was a metahuman.
"Quit following me!" the girl screamed.
She tried to bury her arm in the monster's eye. When she jumped to do it the monster, ready for her this time, grabbed her with two tentacles, one getting her arms while the other got her legs.
"Ngh! Ngh!" the hispanic girl said, thrashing against its grip.
The tentacles slithered as they wrapped around her body over and over. The point tips started to run over her clothes, causing tears.
Bow Girl ducked out from behind the shield Harry made.
"Wait!" Harry said.
Protecting her had been his main challenge. If he canceled his shield, the tentacles would smash her into paste. He'd been planning to apparate her away with him to a safe distance, then he could save the other girl by attacking the monster without needing to defend.
That plan was ruined by Bow Girl's overly eager charge.
She was snapped up by tentacles the same way the latina had been. Bow Girl's tight suit was torn over her stomach and received a gash across her cleavage at the same time. Harry growled.
"Now it's on!" he said.
One way or another, he no longer had to defend. He apparated by himself to get into the monster's blind spot. His most powerful cutting curse came to his lips, ready to sever some tentacles for the world's largest calamari.
By the time he reappeared, just seconds later, the girls he was fighting alongside were gone.
The tentacles that had been holding them were empty. A look around the street showed why. Everyone the creature touched disappeared. There was a puff of something like smoke and they just vanished, teleporting somewhere else as if they'd been touched by a portkey.
Harry experienced a deep feeling of regret.
"Sorry, Wanda," he said. "I'll solve this as fast as I can… But I might be a little bit late."
He turned his wand on the monster squid. A glistening golden arch came out of his wand and hit two tentacles. Both of them were instantly severed, the wounds cauterizing in seconds. The Sun's Bite was the nickname of that spell. It came from Egypt; a cutting curse that was said to be as sharp as the sun above the desert.
Harry's next spell was South American in nature. It made vines explode out of the urban cement. There were so many vines that they were able to hold the monster down. No matter how many tendrils it managed to snap, more grew to tie the squid up.
It had eight legs total. Six, now that Harry cut two off. He quickly set about reducing that number.
Five. Four. Three. Two. ONE. Harry looked the monster in its lone eye, now that it was reduced to a torso and a single leg, tied up in vines. Its eye was mostly closed with pain. Harry held his arms out.
"If you don't want a twenty foot spike through your eye, send me where you sent them," Harry said. "You can even keep your last leg as part of the deal."
Although it likely didn't understand English, it grasped his intent. A single tentacle slowly and obediently extended toward him. The monster was taking no chances with offending Harry.
It poked his chest and Harry was sent hurtling through space—or maybe something less knowable—until he arrived at his destination.
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