Written in response to the Quidditch League Fan fiction Competition

Round 3

Position: Beater 2

Challenge: a human caused disaster

Challenge response: 9/11

I do not claim any part of the Harry Potter Universe. As an American Citizen 9/11 had a very big impact on me. Please be aware that reading this may bring up painful or traumatic memories.

Man made disasters fall into two categories: Terrorism, which is a deliberate criminal act and accidental disasters involving hazardous material and transportation accidents.- wikipedia

Harry Potter sat nursing a cup of coffee as he surveyed the busy street in front of him. He had moved to New York City a little more than a year ago, having had enough of the demands and expectations at home. He wasn't doing bad either he mentally reminded himself. He had eked out a good living for himself. He had a nice apartment in a great part of town and a satisfying job tutoring a couple of engaging kids.

Yes he was alone but never lonely. He received plenty of letters and surprise visits from friends and family as often as they could make it. And the city he had chosen as his home had plenty to entertain him, a plus considering his rather unique sleeping habits.

By far his favorite thing to do was people watch. He engaged in the activity for hours at a time, picking a spot as he had this morning and settling in to watch the circus unfold.

They came in a variety of sizes and shapes, colors and shades. Some walked fast, their eyes focused while others wondered slowly with expressions of wonder and amazement.

There were the street performers, musicians, and artists. Theatrical groups whose skits always made him laugh. His favorite though were those individuals who painted themselves up and posed as various statues. Some were poor attempts but most did a passable job. A few even looked so real he was hard pressed not to give them a poke

The seedier side of life had its share of characters in attendance. Pickpockets and hustlers took advantage of the seemingly innocent tourists while the homeless begged for coins.

As much as the people were different the city itself changed. There was downtown with its flashing lights and alarming crowds next to Broadway were spontaneous rehearsals took place in the street. Uptown had its big mansions and lush parks while Tribeca was full of quirky lofts and even quirkier people.

Today he'd planted himself in the financial district, enjoying the sight of men in suits rushing back and forth. Some juggled multiple cups of coffee while others yelled angrily or urgently into their phones.

He knew once the lunch hour hit the restaurants would fill with those same men wooing clients with expensive meals. Others would bring paperwork with them and eat while scribbling furiously. The lunch carts and food trucks would roll in and line up along the street, offering the quick and convenient for those who only had a moment to spare.

Harry was chuckling at one particularly over excited man when it happened. A whinging, almost pinging sound followed by a boom that had him swinging around in his chair.

He stared in shock as one of the two towers that stood out amongst the cities souring skyline burst into flame.

He didn't register the screams, the running people, or the screech of horns. He stood still in the middle of the chaos, his mind five years in the past. The final battle was again occurring at Hogwarts. Brightly colored bursts of light flashed all around him as family and friend fell. Above it all the top if the astronomy tower burned bright.

He was pulled out of his memories as someone pushed into him from behind. His return to the here and now was greeted by noise and darkness. He stared blankly into the sky, not comprehending that the black smoke pouring from the top of the building was blocking out the sun. Ash and paper floated down until it covered every surface.

"Look out man." Someone screamed behind him. He stumbled forward at the sharp shove to his back, heart leaping into his throat as a piece of metal embedded itself in the ground where he'd been standing.

He peered through the gloom noticing other pieces of metal and large debris were smashing through everything in sight. Small fires were breaking out adding to the confusion.

The screams around him increased in volume, drawing him to look up. More objects, too numerous to count, were falling from the upper floors. He was unable to make out details through the grime coating his glasses. Something he was grateful for as he took in the expressions of those around him.

Suddenly all sound seemed to cease as everyone on the street watched a plane take out the upper floors of the second tower.

Harry's feet started to move, faster and faster until he was running. He pushed and shoved his way through the dazed crowd, his heart beating in time with the sirens now filling the air.

He soon reached the hastily erected police barrier being manned by pale shaky officers.

"Get back." They were yelling as they looked over their shoulder at the destruction. "Get back, it's not safe."

"I need to go in, I can help." Harry insisted as one of the officers pushed him back.

"Sorry son, trained personal only."

"I can help." He pressed. "I've been in situations like this before."

The officer have him a long look before lifting the barrier. "Your decision. God help them but they need all the help they can get."

He headed into the building directly in front of him, grabbing the first person he saw and carrying them out. He handed her off to a group of people seemingly waiting to receive her before heading back in.

Sometime during one of his many trips someone tied a bandanna over his face, diminishing some of the ash that was searing his lungs.

He didn't stop even when the tower collapsed on top of them. He merely climbed out of the rubble that had piled over him and continued to pull people out. Mostly just bodies now but he carried them out with as much care as he had those injured.

He didn't notice the flares of magic. A shield here or there to protect from falling debris or a levitation charm to lift a pile of rock. He was numb and working on instinct alone.

An occasional bottle of water was thrust at him, a cookie or sandwich pushed into his hand. And still he worked going back time and again until finally sometime the next day he was pulled out and told to stay out.

"There's no hope kid. There's no one else in there we can save."

He nodded as he sank onto the curb, too exhausted to argue. He looked out at the sea o faces, people watching as he'd done everyday since coming to the city. Only now everyone looked the same. One color, one shade, one emotion.