Harry Potter: Syndicate of Heroes

"I still don't get why you're doing this," Doreen stated after turning in a complete circle inside the bedroom that she'd just been told was hers for the foreseeable future.

Harry sighed from where he leant against the doorframe, his arms folded across his chest.

"No, I don't suppose you would," he said. "Really, only Hermione would." He waved off her question as to who this mysterious 'Hermione' was in favour of giving an answer. "Hermione calls it my 'saving people thing'. It's something I've always had. If I see someone or something in trouble and there's something that I can do to help, I do it, often without even considering the consequences."

"So, you're a good Samaritan," Doreen asked slowly.

"Huh," Harry grunted. "As good a description as any. And it's not like it's forever, only until you get on your feet."

"That's right," Doreen stated emphatically, thinking of the deal that they'd struck.

It'd taken the two of them, with some input from that waitress, Gwen, nearly an hour to hash out the details of their deal. Harry would provide room, meals and a job; and she would work for him as well as go to school. At least she'd have someone she'd know at her new school once she'd enrolled, even if Gwen was in the year level above her.

Gwen had even hinted that there was a possibility that her parents might take her in. Which would mean that she wouldn't have to live with Harry, no matter how nice he appeared to be. Taking an extra look around the room, she knew that as bizarre as this was, it was infinitely better than living in the park, especially with how cold it was becoming each night.

"There is … one other thing," Doreen said.

She still hadn't put her backpack down, saving that for after this particular conversation. Harry's raised eyebrow was enough to keep her talking.

"I have a pet," she said in a rush.

"A pet?" Harry asked. "May I ask why you haven't mentioned this before?"

"He's not your usual type of pet," Doreen hedged.

"Well, I used to have an owl for a pet and I have a mate who had a toad when he was younger, so I can't imagine whatever pet you have as being too unusual," Harry assured her.

Doreen stared at him. A toad wasn't too unusual, she supposed. But an owl?

"Monkey Joe's a squirrel," she said.

It seemed that this time it was Harry's turn to stare.

"A squirrel?" he repeated. "Well, I suppose that's not so bad. Is he housebroken, at least?"

"Monkey Joe knows how to behave himself," Doreen stated indignantly.

"Well, fair enough, but if Monkey Joe makes any mess, it's your responsibility to clean up after him," Harry said.

"Agreed," Doreen said quickly.

"I'll leave you to get settled in," Harry said. "Dinner's at seven but the rest of the day is yours."

"Thanks, Harry," Doreen replied.

Harry merely nodded and left, closing the door behind him.

Finally alone, Doreen took off her pack before shucking out of her old bomber jacket and flopping onto the bed. She'd unpack later, for now she was enjoying the feeling of laying on a proper mattress for the first time in what felt like forever.

ooo00ooo

"What do we know about our potential client?" Matt Murdock asked.

From the chair immediately to his left, the sound of rustling papers could be heard where his best friend and partner, Foggy Nelson of Nelson and Murdock Law Firm, was shuffling through the file that they were given by Sergeant Mahoney as they entered the police interview room.

"Right, the basics," Foggy began. "Felicia Hardy. Twenty. Born in Queens. Currently a freshman at Empire State."

"A freshman?" Matt questioned.

"Yeah, seems a little older than normal," Foggy agreed. "Oh, wait, looks like she's only just re-enrolled. She actually started University two years ago, before dropping out in her first semester."

The sound of more rustling paper filled the room.

"Here we go. Oh, man, this says that she was raped," Foggy near groaned. "By her boyfriend no less. The dude was killed in a car crash before he could be brought to trial. Other than that, her file's clean."

"Any known associates?" Matt asked, wanting to cover all bases.

"Let's see," Foggy mused. "Just the one – her father, Walter Hardy. He's a world class cat burglar, currently serving time upstate."

The door opening interrupted any further exchange of information.

Matt's head shifted as he used his extraordinary senses to get an idea of who had entered. The police officer he dismissed immediately. No, it was the girl he focused on. Her tread was light and he assumed that her clothes were form-fitting as he couldn't detect any hint of their movement as she walked. In fact, the only real sound that she gave off was the slight swish of her hair, obviously long. And there was a hint of perfume on her, a flowery scent that he was unfamiliar with.

"You two are my lawyers?" the girl, Felicia, asked as she took the seat opposite them.

"We are; assuming that we agree to take your case," Matt said, taking the lead. "My name is Matthew Murdock, this is my partner, Foggy Nelson. We're told that you've been charged with murder."

"I didn't do it! I didn't kill anyone!" Felicia stated forcefully, by the sound of it leaning forward in her intensity.

Matt cocked his head slightly as he listened to her heartrate and breathing.

"Why don't you tell us what happened, Miss Hardy," he said.

"I'll admit, I wasn't supposed to be there," Felicia began.

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