Seeing the tables all but empty, Harry decided to take advantage of it. He was the lone staff member in the Den today – David, his chef, having needed to take the day off to look after his sick fiancé and it still being too early for Gwen and his other High School staff to have arrived yet.
Grapping up a tray and throwing a cloth over his shoulder, he began buzzing about the tables, collecting empty plates and cups, wiping down the tables and replacing the small menu card and condiments in the little racks that he'd fashioned for the centre of the tables. Meanwhile, he kept an eye on the two couples and three lone individuals finishing their late lunches or their coffees. He also kept an ear out for the tingling of a bell, the sound that would announce someone entering the Den.
For now, the café was near empty, but he knew that in an hour or two it would be almost filled to overflowing with the afternoon crowd and especially with the teens from Midtown High who'd seemed to decide that the Den was the place to be.
It was when he was just over half-way through his task that a distant sound made him pause. He half-straightened and almost unconsciously turned towards the door, a slight frown on his face.
It came again, the distant sound of an explosion, only this one sounded louder. He was more than familiar with that sound – he'd gone to school with Seamus Finnegan, after all, not to mention that he'd fought in a war.
When a set of explosions went off in concussion, a small rumble of the ground accompanying it, he dropped the rag to the table and quick-stepped to the door.
The instant that he opened the door, the sounds of explosions multiplied. Screams of terror and cries of pain drew his eyes left. What he saw caused his wand to instantly drop into his hand.
People were running, tears of terror and screams of pain coming from every which way, even as dozens of flying things zipped past just above the nearby buildings, shooting bright blue bursts of energy into the people and buildings below, destroying everything in their path.
A dozen arms raised, pointing far up overhead had Harry looking up. What he saw there was beyond his comprehension. There appeared to be a … hole in the sky. A hole through which the inky blackness of space could be seen. And a hole from which hundreds more of the weird flying bike-like things were appearing.
"Aliens! Aliens!" a terrified woman screeched as she huddled behind a nearby car, her hands on her face in her disbelief and panic.
The sight of small explosions happening far above, all emanating from a speck of red and gold, told Harry that Tony Stark's Iron Man was fighting back.
Harry's eyes darted between the hero fighting way above the city and the people down below being shot at, injured and killed. He'd made his decision in an instant.
Racing back inside, he slammed the doors open, instantly gaining the attention of his few customers.
"New York's under attack!" he blurted. "Aliens! From the sky. Iron Man's fighting them but we're in danger down here. You need to get out of here and somewhere safe. There's a subway entrance around the corner and down a couple of hundred feet. Get there and stay safe. The streets aren't safe."
The flicker of the television in the corner flashing in with breaking news showing the beginnings of the destruction emphasised his point, accompanied by the real-life sounds of explosions drawing closer had his customers deserting the Den within seconds
A tap of the door to his apartment unlocked it and Harry wrenched it open, only to simply point his wand up the stairs. A couple of seconds later, the blue-grey cloak made from the hide of a Swedish Short-Snout shot down the stairs towards him. Swinging it around his shoulders, he snapped the clasp near his throat closed and pulled up the hood.
It wasn't much, but he thought that the cloak should be enough to protect him – the dragon hide from whatever those aliens were shooting and the hood to hide his face when he broke every one of the International Statute of Secrets laws.
ooo00ooo
Finding people to protect had been easy; actually doing the protecting and helping, that had been hard.
Harry flung himself at the fleeing people, slid to a halt with him between them and the three flying bikes, which he now realised were more designed like a chariot and raised his wand.
"Protego!" he yelled, just as the first of the bolts of energy raced towards him.
The impact caused his arm to buck but the shield charm at least held, the energy splashing harmlessly against it. A quick glance behind him assured him that the people had kept going.
Shielding, though, he realised, wasn't going to be enough.
The instant that the energy beam let up, Harry dropped his shield and cast, his arm a flurry of movement.
"Bombarda!" That took out the middle chariot, dropping it from the sky in an erratic pattern that had it slamming into the side of a nearby building.
"Sectumsempra!" The driver of the chariot to his left lost his arm.
"Protego!" starved off the attack from the last chariot, before with a quick twirl of his wand, "Incarcerous!" put that last chariot out of action.
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