The comms crackled in my ear, and I tapped it like I actually knew what I was doing. Spoiler alert: I didn't. Still, I tried my best to sound like a composed, confident leader, which is super hard when Robin's going to give you a lecture no matter what you say.
"Shadowflame to Robin," I said, attempting my best "mysterious hero voice." Instead, it came out sounding like a teenager trying to imitate Batman. Which, let's be real, is like trying to cosplay a tank—you just can't pull it off.
Robin's voice came through the comms, calm and just a little judgmental. "What's up, Harry? Did you break another one of Bruce's toys, or is this an actual crisis?"
Okay. First of all, rude. Second of all, he wasn't wrong. "For your information," I said, holding onto my last shred of dignity, "this is a legitimate crisis. Someone hacked into our system, and they're good. Like, 'probably-watched-every-season-of-Mr.-Robot-twice' good."
Robin sighed, the kind of sigh that said, I'll handle it because I have to, not because I want to. "Fine. I'm on my way. Don't touch anything until I get there."
"Already touching everything," I muttered under my breath as I cut the line. Was that a smart move? Probably not. Was it worth it? Absolutely.
Next up: Kid Flash. I tapped the comm again. "Shadowflame to Wally. You there?"
Static. Then— "Yo, Harry! What's up? Need me to grab snacks? Because I just found this bakery in Keystone that sells donuts so good they could end wars."
"Not a snack run," I said quickly, because once Wally gets going, he's like a hyperactive auctioneer. "We've got a hacker situation. Lee says it's some next-level Matrix stuff, and your speedy fingers might actually save the day."
There was a pause. Then, with way too much enthusiasm: "Oh, hacking! Why didn't you say so? Be there in a sec."
The line went dead, which meant Wally was probably already halfway here. I turned back to the command center, where Lee was hunched over his keyboard, muttering things like, "Oh, you think you're clever? Watch this," while typing at a speed that made it look like his fingers were about to catch fire.
Deedee, perched on a console like a cat deciding whether or not to shred your curtains, twirled a screwdriver lazily. "So, what's the plan, fearless leader? Let the hacker have their fun while Lee has a meltdown, or...?"
"Reinforcements are on the way," I said, gesturing at Lee, who was too busy glaring at his monitor to notice. "Remus, any thoughts?"
Remus Lupin—aka Mr. Cool, Calm, and Collected—was leaning against the wall like he had all the time in the world. Honestly, the man could make a tea break look heroic. "The real question," he said in his smooth, professor who knows everything tone, "is whether we should be more concerned about the hacker... or the fact that Lee seems to be enjoying this."
Lee spun around, his face a mix of outrage and caffeine-fueled indignation. "Enjoying it? Remus, this is a personal attack. It's like they're trying to out-pizza the Hut!"
"And here I thought you liked a good challenge," Remus said, smiling like he knew exactly how to poke the bear.
"Oh, I'm winning," Lee said, spinning back to his keyboard. "I just want them to know they lost because they challenged me."
Deedee rolled her eyes. "Alright, Neo, let us know when you've saved the Matrix."
Before Lee could fire back, the door whooshed open, and Robin walked in, looking like he'd been born to command. He surveyed the room—the glowing screens, Lee's furious typing, Deedee's I'm so over this attitude—and raised an eyebrow. "This is the emergency? It looks like Lee drank too much coffee and decided to audition for a spy movie."
"Hey!" Lee pointed a finger at him, looking personally offended. "This is serious. Someone's hacking us, and they're better than me."
Robin blinked. "Better than you?"
"Barely," Lee said, spinning back to his screen. "It's like trying to track someone in a hall of mirrors. But I'll crack it."
Robin didn't even blink. He just pulled out some high-tech Bat-gadget (because of course he did) and plugged it into the system. "Deedee, run a diagnostic on our hardware. Let's make sure this isn't an inside job."
Deedee gave him a mock salute. "Aye-aye, Captain Broody."
Then, in a gust of wind that smelled vaguely like sugar, Wally appeared, holding a half-eaten donut in one hand and a laptop in the other. "Alright, what's the sitch? Also, anyone want a bite? It's maple bacon, and it's life-changing."
Deedee stared at him like she was trying to decide if murder was worth the paperwork. "Wally. Focus. We're trying to stop a hacker, not plan brunch."
"Fine, fine," Wally said, plopping into a chair. "But if we solve this by lunch, you're all coming to Keystone for donuts."
"Deal," I said, because at this point, I'd sell my soul for a break.
Robin, still staring at the screen, muttered, "Wally, monitor the incoming signals. Lee, isolate the source. And Deedee? Maybe don't blow anything up."
"No promises," Deedee said, grinning like she absolutely planned to blow something up.
As they all got to work, I leaned back and tried to look like a composed leader while silently praying we didn't all get fried by some evil mastermind. So far, this day was shaping up to be exactly the kind of chaotic nonsense that made me question my life choices. But hey—at least it wasn't boring. Yet.
—
Lee was hunched over his laptop like it owed him money, typing so fast I thought his fingers might catch fire. His face was lit up by the glow of his screen, which, as far as I could tell, displayed pure gibberish. Numbers, letters, symbols—it was like someone spilled an algebra textbook onto a computer. Every so often, he'd mutter something to himself. "They just rerouted through Singapore. Nope, now it's Estonia. Is this a hack or a virtual world tour?"
"Classic misdirection," Robin said, leaning over Lee's shoulder with all the focus of a guy solving a Rubik's cube blindfolded. "Can you backtrace their subnet mask and force a proxy loop?"
Lee didn't even look up. "Do you want me to backtrace their subnet mask or invent time travel while I'm at it? Because I could do both, but I'd need coffee."
I stood by the wall, trying to look useful and failing spectacularly. "Subnet mask? Proxy loop? Are you guys just making stuff up now?"
"Harry," Robin said in his classic no-nonsense tone, "just… let the professionals work."
Meanwhile, Kid Flash was at another workstation, moving so fast that I couldn't tell if he was typing or summoning a demon. His screen was just as incomprehensible, but judging by the grin on his face, he was either winning a really intense game of Minesweeper or actually contributing to the mission. "Alright," Wally said, his words flying out as fast as his hands. "So their IP trail is basically a breadcrumb path. Except instead of breadcrumbs, it's like… ninja stars. And lasers. And—oh, I don't know—angry geese."
I blinked. "Angry geese?"
"Don't knock it," Wally said, still typing. "Geese are terrifying. Long necks, dead eyes, no soul. Basically, they're the apex predators of the bird world."
"Focus, Wally," Robin said, though even he sounded amused.
"I am focused!" Wally shot back. "Look, see this data trail? It spikes like a heartbeat every thirty seconds. If I time it right, I can hitch a ride on their next signal."
"Be careful," Robin warned. "One wrong move and they'll know we're onto them."
"Relax, Boy Wonder," Wally said, leaning back like he was sunbathing. "I'm Kid Flash. Timing is literally my whole deal."
Lee snorted without looking up. "Yeah, until you mess it up and I have to clean up the fallout. Again."
"Excuse me, Mr. Third Energy Drink," Wally shot back, pointing to the can in Lee's hand. "How's your precision going?"
"For your information," Lee replied, holding up the can like it was a trophy, "this is my fourth energy drink. And my precision is flawless."
"Oh, boys, boys," came Deedee's voice through the comms, dripping with sarcasm. "Please keep it down. Your combined testosterone levels might crash the system."
I couldn't help but smirk. "Glad someone else is enjoying this circus."
"Still clean on my end," she continued, sounding way too casual for someone in the middle of a crisis. "No tampering with the hardware. I'd say this is an external hack. Probably some greasy teenager in a basement trying to impress their hacker friends."
"Or it's Harry," Wally said without missing a beat.
"Yes, clearly I hacked my own team just for fun," I said, crossing my arms. "You caught me. Brilliant deduction, Sherlock."
Deedee chuckled. "Wouldn't put it past you, honestly."
Before I could retort, Lee slammed his keyboard with the dramatic flair of someone cracking a safe in a spy movie. "Gotcha!" he announced, grinning like he'd just hacked into the Pentagon. "I found their entry point. It's bouncing through a server farm in Amsterdam."
"Can you block them?" Robin asked, stepping closer.
"Not yet," Lee said, his fingers back to flying. "But I can trap them. If they try to push further, I'll lock them in a loop so tight they'll be spinning for weeks."
"Do it," Robin said, all business.
"Meanwhile," Wally interrupted, "guess what? They're sending out another signal right now. Hitching a ride in three, two, one…" His screen lit up like a Christmas tree, and for a second, even Lee looked impressed.
"You actually did it," Lee said begrudgingly.
"Of course I did," Wally said, flashing a smug grin. "I'm me. Failure isn't an option."
"Unless it's on a math test," Lee muttered.
Robin ignored the banter, eyes glued to the monitors as the data unraveled. Suddenly, an emblem popped up on Lee's screen—a sleek, metallic serpent coiled into a deadly-looking design. The room went silent.
"Okay, not to state the obvious," I said, breaking the tension, "but that looks exactly like the kind of logo you'd find on a villain's secret lair. Evil vibes. Major evil vibes."
"Evil vibes confirmed," Deedee said through the comms. "So, what's the plan, fearless leader?"
Robin frowned, his mind already working ten steps ahead. "First, we find out who they are. Then, we stop them."
"And if they're, like, supervillains?" I asked.
Robin's lips quirked in a half-smile. "Then we stop them harder."
"Great," I muttered. "Sounds totally manageable. Let's go fight some evil hackers with serpent logos. What could possibly go wrong?"
—
The Overwatch logo—yeah, the one with a stylized serpent wrapped around a pair of crossed keyboards—glared at us from Lee's screen like it was actively judging our life choices. I swear, if logos could judge you, this one was scathing. Wally's jaw practically hit the floor, Robin narrowed his eyes to a suspicious slit, and I just stood there like someone had turned my brain into a scrambled mess of confusion and disbelief.
"Overwatch?" Lee muttered, rubbing his temples. "Of course it's them. Great. Just what we needed today."
"Care to elaborate?" I asked, raising an eyebrow. "Are these guys, like, supervillains? A group of rogue AI? A bunch of disgruntled pizza delivery drivers who decided to hack the government instead of delivering toppings?"
"Worse," Lee said, deadpan, as he turned back to his keyboard. "Hacktivists."
"Hacktivists?" Wally echoed, his voice dripping with disbelief. "You mean like those weirdos who only come out of their basement after a twelve-hour caffeine binge, complaining about how society is rigged?"
"Exactly," Lee confirmed, his face pulled into a smirk. "If Anonymous and Tumblr had a baby, these guys would be the result. They do this for the thrill of showing they can break into anything—corporations, governments, and now, apparently, superhero networks."
"Wait, wait," Robin said, stepping forward. "So they're just... doing this to prove they're smart? This doesn't sound like much of a threat."
"Oh, trust me," Lee said, rolling his eyes. "You haven't met these geniuses. Their whole thing is about 'exposing flaws'—and not just any flaws. They go after the big ones. The ones you don't want anyone to know about."
"So," I began, raising a hand. "We're talking about a group of college kids with too much time and even more ambition?"
"Yep," Lee confirmed, typing faster now. "And, bonus, they probably think they're on the verge of some kind of 'digital revolution.'"
Wally cracked his knuckles, eyes gleaming. "So... what, we're going to beat up a bunch of nerds and take their lunch money?"
"Focus," Robin shot back, his voice firm. "What's our move? Storm their dorm room? Call for a tech support squad?"
"Better," Lee said, his grin wide and almost too pleased. "I've got their location. MIT. Alcibiades Hall. Room 213."
Wally raised an eyebrow. "MIT? Seriously? We got hacked by MIT nerds? This is... this is almost embarrassing."
I nodded in agreement. "Yeah, who knew college students had this kind of time on their hands?"
Before anyone could chime in, Deedee's voice crackled through the comms. "Hey, guys, better have some good news 'cause I just spent my last dollar on a snack machine, and I'm about five seconds away from starting an international crisis over it."
"Deedee, do you know what MIT is?" I asked, barely hiding my amusement.
"Oh my god, you've got to be kidding me," she groaned. "I haven't been able to get a snack break for two hours, and now I have to fight tech geniuses? Are you serious?"
"Trust us," Lee said, laughing. "They're not just any geniuses. They're hacktivists. Three college kids who've basically made hacking into superhero networks their personal hobby."
"Of course they are," Deedee muttered, the sarcasm dripping. "Because nothing screams 'dangerous terrorists' like a trio of sleep-deprived nerds with ten too many Red Bulls."
"We're heading to MIT now," Robin said, already on his feet, heading toward the exit. "Deedee, you're on hardware duty when we get there."
"On my way," she replied. "But if they have snacks, I'm taking some. Consider it payment for my time."
---
MIT Dorms, Alcibiades Hall, Room 213
The hall smelled like a mix of stale pizza and half-baked ambition. Posters of obscure indie bands I'm pretty sure I'd never heard of covered the walls, along with sarcastic slogans like "My Other Computer Is A Time Machine." The sound of tapping keys, buzzing routers, and the occasional microwave beep was oddly comforting—it was like I'd just walked into a hacker's version of Hogwarts, if Hogwarts had been built inside a dorm.
Robin knocked on the door with the kind of authority you only get from years of being trained as Batman's sidekick. No response.
Wally grinned and flexed his fingers. "Want me to vibrate through the lock, just for fun?"
Robin gave him a look that would have melted metal. "No."
"Just asking," Wally shrugged. "Besides, we could totally pull off a Mission: Impossible vibe. Just say the word."
I stepped forward, rolling my eyes. "Yeah, sure. Why not add a little drama to our very not dramatic mission?"
Robin knocked again, louder this time. A beat later, the door creaked open, revealing a lanky guy with messy brown hair and glasses so thick he could've used them as a shield.
"Can I help you?" he asked, blinking at us as if we were some kind of bad dream he wasn't sure he wanted to wake up from.
"Cooper Seldon?" Robin asked, his voice sharp and cold, like a knife through butter.
Cooper's eyes widened. "Uh... maybe?"
Before he could slam the door in our faces, Wally zipped forward, casually leaning against the doorframe like he owned the place. "Whoa, whoa. Chill out, Coop. We're not here to arrest you. Yet."
There was a shuffle from inside, and then two more figures appeared. One was a wiry guy with an undercut and an eyebrow piercing—Myron Forest, according to Lee's intel. The other was... well, imagine every goth chick cliché you've ever seen and turn it up to eleven. Felicity Smoak, in all her college goth glory. Ripped fishnets, dark lipstick, and a shirt that said, "Tech is my religion." I swear she'd walked straight out of a Tumblr post.
"So," Felicity drawled, leaning against the doorframe like she owned it. "This is a surprise. What brings the Justice Babies to our humble abode?"
"We're here about your little 'project,'" Robin said, stepping forward. His calm tone contrasted with the burning intensity in his eyes.
"Oh, you mean the little network hack?" Myron said, smirking like he'd just won the world's weirdest bet. "Sorry about that. Just a test run. You know, for fun. No hard feelings?"
"No hard feelings?" Lee repeated, stepping up next to Robin, his eyes flashing with irritation. "You hacked into our network, put our identities at risk, and nearly exposed everything. And now, you're acting like it's no big deal?"
Felicity raised an eyebrow. "And you stopped us. So... congrats? Gold star?"
"Consider yourselves lucky we're not pressing charges," Robin said, voice like steel, his fists clenched by his side. "This ends today. No more hacking, no more games. Understood?"
Felicity's smirk faltered, replaced by a rare flicker of regret. "Yeah. Got it."
Cooper shifted nervously, his shoulders hunched. "Look, we didn't mean to cause trouble. We just... wanted to prove we could. It's not like we were planning world domination or anything."
Robin gave him a long, hard look, then softened, just a fraction. "Then prove you can use your skills for good. You're smart—don't waste it."
The trio exchanged glances, and then, almost as if by unspoken agreement, nodded.
"Deal," Felicity said, her voice no longer laced with mockery. "But just for the record?" She paused, raising a finger. "You guys need way better firewalls."
"I'll take that as constructive criticism," Lee said with a smirk, and for a second, I thought he might actually agree with her.
I turned to Wally, who was already scanning the room with his usual impatience. "So, now what?"
"We go back to the base," Robin said, his voice already switching back into 'mission mode'. "And maybe next time, we keep the hackers off the radar before they think we're a challenge."
"I still want to know what their snack situation is like," Deedee grumbled from the comms.
"Deedee, we just saved the day," I said, rolling my eyes. "Are you really worried about snacks?"
She sighed dramatically. "Hey, heroes need fuel too."
—
Back at Mount Justice, after we'd wrapped up the whole "saving the day" thing—again—I ducked into a quiet corner, hoping to finally catch a break. Well, at least for a few minutes. As Wally and Lee began their age-old debate over which energy drink was the superior choice (spoiler: it's none of them), I pulled out my secure phone. I wasn't about to let any of this "saving the world" nonsense stop me from handling some business.
I dialed the number I knew by heart—Talia Tate's. CEO of Peverell Industries, reigning queen of the corporate world, and my personal version of a "get things done" contact. The call connected after a single ring, and I swear I could hear the polished elegance in her voice before she even said anything.
"Harry," she greeted, calm and controlled as always. There's something about her tone that feels like she's holding a dagger under the surface, but it's perfectly hidden in a velvet glove. "I assume this is not a social call?"
"Not exactly," I said, glancing over my shoulder to make sure no one was listening. I wasn't in the mood for a lecture on the ethics of multitasking from Wally. "I need you to keep an eye on a group of MIT students. They go by the name Overwatch."
There was a slight pause on the other end—just long enough for her to process the name. "The hacktivists?" she asked, her voice not quite questioning, more like a statement of fact. Like she already knew they were trouble.
"Bingo," I said. "Three of them. Cooper Seldon, Myron Forest, and Felicity Smoak. But, here's the kicker: Felicity's the one you need to keep an eye on. She's the one pulling the strings. The brains behind their whole operation."
"Felicity Smoak," Talia repeated, as if she was mentally filing the name away in one of her endless databases. "I'm familiar with her. Highly intelligent. Dangerous, if underestimated."
"You're not wrong," I said, smirking just a little. "Look, here's the thing: I don't want to take them out. I want them on our side. Felicity especially. So, here's what I need: I want you to monitor them—track their movements, their progress, when they graduate, all of it. And as soon as they're out of MIT, I want a generous job offer on the table for them. I'm talking Peverell Industries level opportunity. I want her, specifically, working for us."
"Ah," she said, her voice turning colder than a mountain breeze. "And if they refuse your offer?"
I couldn't help but grin at her bluntness. "Well, if they refuse... I'll have you 'make sure' their other options are less appealing. Make it clear that life outside our little circle isn't all that it's cracked up to be."
There was a beat of silence on the other end. I could almost picture her thinking it through, calculating. Talia always made her moves carefully, and when she spoke again, her voice was smooth, yet somehow more dangerous than before.
"Understood. I'll initiate surveillance immediately. Consider it done. I'll ensure they know the offer is genuine—and that their options will quickly disappear if they choose wrong."
I felt a little thrill at the thought of having someone like Felicity working on my side. Sure, it was a little sneaky, but honestly, who wouldn't want a hacker genius like that on the team?
"Good," I said, feeling a bit of relief. "And if anything else pops up—any signs of trouble or unexpected moves—let me know. I'm not exactly interested in getting blindsided by hacktivist revolutionaries."
"Of course, Harry," Talia replied, the edge to her voice softening, though I could still feel the steel beneath it. "You will be the first to know. Expect an update shortly."
"Thanks, Talia," I said, about to hang up. "And... let's keep this between us for now. No need to cause a stir, right?"
"Always," she said, and I could almost hear her smile. "Take care, Harry."
I ended the call and leaned back against the wall, letting out a long breath. Just another day, right? I was probably about to recruit a bunch of college hackers, turn them into corporate assets, and solve world problems while I was at it. No big deal.
Wally, meanwhile, was still arguing about which energy drink was the most "life-changing," and Lee was pretending not to listen while strategically scrolling through his phone. Honestly, between the hacktivists and my extremely competent team, I wasn't sure which one made my life more chaotic.
"Hey, Harry," Wally called out as I started to walk away. "We're doing a taste test of these energy drinks. You in?"
I shot him a grin, the kind that meant I was very much not in the mood. "Sure, Wally. Just let me know when you've figured out which one might actually keep you from crashing at 3 AM."
I turned, ready to get back to business—real business this time. If all went well, in a couple of months, I'd have Felicity Smoak on my side, ready to take down any digital fortress that got in our way. But, of course, that was assuming things didn't go completely sideways between now and then.
Because, let's face it, in my line of work, that was always a real possibility.
—
I walk into my room at Mount Justice, expecting a quiet night of peace and solitude. Maybe I'd finally get some sleep after all the crazy stuff that's been happening lately.
I was wrong. So wrong.
There, sitting on my bed, were Megan (Miss Martian) and Zatanna. And, let's just say, they weren't exactly dressed for a strategy meeting or planning a team mission. No, they were in their nightwear. And not the kind of nightwear you wear when you're just going to bed after a long day of superheroing. No, this was scandalous nightwear—the kind that says, "I have magic powers, and I'm about to use them all on you."
Megan's face was a walking, talking advertisement for why blushing should be a crime. Seriously, she was practically glowing, her green skin doing nothing to hide the redness that spread across her cheeks. It was like watching a tomato try to melt into a green screen. I almost wanted to give her an invisibility cloak just to help her out.
Zatanna, on the other hand, was exactly as you'd expect her to be in this scenario. Zatanna—but extra. She was oozing confidence like it was a superpower. If I didn't know better, I'd say she was straight out of an action movie with one of those "I'm trouble, and I know it" grins.
I froze in the doorway. "Uh, hey," I stammered, immediately regretting not knocking. Oh gods, I should've knocked. What is wrong with me?
Zatanna tilted her head, that smile of hers widening like she'd just won some kind of magical lottery. "Harry, darling," she purred, her voice as smooth as melted chocolate. "We need to talk."
I could already feel my brain doing the mental equivalent of a headstand. Keep it together, Harry, I told myself. You've fought alien invaders, had face-offs with supervillains, and dodged entire armies of magic users. This? This should be nothing.
But it wasn't. It was everything. And I'm pretty sure my heart was trying to run a marathon inside my chest.
Megan was sitting on the edge of my bed, hands folded nervously in her lap, looking about two seconds away from disappearing into the floor. She was doing that thing where you can see she's trying really hard not to do something embarrassing, but it's just not working. She looked like she could teleport away at any moment—if only she could think about it long enough to make it happen.
"Uh, Harry," Megan mumbled, her voice so quiet it was almost lost in the air. "We... we just wanted to talk to you about something... really important?"
I blinked twice. "Okay, what's going on here? Because I feel like I've walked into a scene I wasn't meant to be in."
Zatanna leaned forward just a little, like she was getting ready to drop a bomb. Her eyes sparkled with mischief—honestly, I could see how magic was her thing, because the way she looked at me could probably charm a dragon into submission. She didn't even bother with the preamble. "Well, Harry, you see, by the mutual consent of all your girlfriends—Kara, Kori, Deedee, Tia, Mareena, Zatanna, and Megan—today is... our day."
I blinked. Twice again. And then I did something I probably shouldn't have. I looked at Megan for confirmation, my eyebrows shooting up. "Wait... what?"
Megan, bless her heart, nodded. Like really nodded, like it was the most natural thing in the world. "We've all agreed on a... um... schedule, Harry," she said, her voice barely audible. She shot Zatanna a quick look, like she was waiting for some kind of approval.
I stared at her. Then at Zatanna. Then back at Megan. "Hold up. A schedule?"
Zatanna gave a little shrug like this was the most obvious thing in the world. "Yep. Every girlfriend gets a day, Harry. And today?" She stepped forward with all the grace of a magician preparing to cast a spell. "Today it's our turn to share your bed."
I was pretty sure I blinked so many times in a row I was about to start seeing things. "Wait... wait, wait. Hold up. You've all been scheduling when you get to share a bed with me?"
Megan bit her lip so hard it was like she was trying to hide inside herself. I swear, if she could've teleported out of existence, she would've by now. But she didn't. Instead, she nodded, her green skin glowing brighter than a traffic light. "Well, yeah. But... it's not just about sleeping, Harry. We all just... want some cuddle time, you know? And, uh... other things." Her voice was barely more than a whisper by the end, like she wasn't sure whether to be mortified or totally okay with it.
Zatanna's grin turned into one of those "I'm about to make everything really complicated and fun" smirks. She moved a little closer, her eyes never leaving mine. "Let's just say we've all got plans for tonight. Special plans. But don't worry," she said, her voice lowering, "you'll enjoy every minute."
I could feel my brain doing the equivalent of short-circuiting. I just... couldn't process this. "Wait. So, you've all been planning this, and now... today is your turn?"
Zatanna stepped closer, tilting her head just enough to make it clear that she wasn't asking me for permission—she was telling me what was about to happen. "Exactly. And trust me, Harry. You won't regret it. We've been waiting for this." Her smile had a mix of seduction and something else—something almost dangerous.
Megan glanced at Zatanna and then at me, looking like she was still trying to come to terms with the situation. "Uh, if... if you're okay with it?" she asked softly. "We don't want to... I mean, it's just... we've been kind of... planning, and—"
"Yeah, yeah, I got it," I said, swallowing hard. "Why not? It's just... a schedule after all, right?"
Megan sighed in relief, but Zatanna? She flashed that grin again. "Perfect," she purred. "We'll start with a little magic, Harry. Just to set the mood."
She raised her hand, and I felt the temperature in the room shift. There was this... charge in the air, like static electricity but way more intense. Magic, of course. Zatanna couldn't let something this important happen without a little flair.
Megan's blush turned three shades darker. She gave me this soft smile, still unsure, still trying to navigate what was clearly way outside her comfort zone. "Just... go easy on us, okay?" she whispered, clearly worried this was going to be even more awkward than she was prepared for.
But before I could say anything else, the air thickened, Zatanna's magic began to hum, and well...
I could safely say this night was going to be one I'd never forget.
At least I could count on one thing—never being bored around here.
---
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