Chapter 14 - Vulture

"Whoa, sorry dude." Harry apologized after nearly driving into someone before he continued skateboarding in between the sea of people in front of him.

Harry was currently wearing blue and red trainers along with blue jeans and a grey shirt under an open white hoodie with black stripes going down the arms. Harry currently had a pair of headphones on his head and was listening to music as he skated his way over to the shops. He was rather glad he had gotten his super senses under control, otherwise this music would be making him feel like someone was splitting his head open.

Once Harry got to the shop he hopped off his skateboard and picked it up before walking to the entrance where he saw Gwen and Peter waiting for him. Peter wearing white trainers, brown trousers and a green checkered shirt while Gwen wore shin-high brown boots, a blue skirt that descended down to just above her knees and a white t-shirt along with a blue hair band.

"What's up peasants?" Harry asked jokingly in the form of a greeting as he took his headphones off and allowed them to hang around his neck.

"Oh look, the rich prince has descended down from the heavens to greet us mere commoners." Gwen mock-gasped in fake disbelief.

"I've never felt luckier in my life." Peter wiped away some fake tears from his eyes.

"Yeah, well, Olympus got bored of me," Harry shrugged before gesturing to the clothes shop on his right. "Come on then."

"I really need to buy some new shoes," Gwen commented as they walked in.

"Sure, I'm just going to look around and see what catches my eye,"

Harry replied.

"You two love your clothes," Peter said, shaking his head slightly.

As far as Peter was concerned, a lot of clothes were unnecessary.

He had a bunch of clothes at home and was perfectly happy wearing the same ones each and every day for as long as he could.

He understood why girls loved clothes, they were girls, and it was an actual stereotype for them to love clothes. Though he wasn't entirely sure why Harry showed the same amount of appreciation for clothes as Gwen did.

"There's nothing wrong with liking clothes." Gwen gave Peter a mock glare.

"Yeah," Harry agreed. "How you see yourself and how other people see you always start with your appearance," Harry told him as they began looking through the shop, thinking about his previous life. In his last life he was forced to wear whatever the Dursleys were 'kind enough to gift him with', and those clothes were pretty much just his cousin's second-hand clothes. Something that had gotten people to make fun of Harry quite a lot in the past, something that he had always been very self-conscious about. Though this time he had the money and parental figures necessary to wear whatever he wanted and he was happily enjoying that fact.

"Harry," Gwen said a couple of minutes later as she held up a pair of knee-length black boots. "Do you think this would look good on me?" She asked.

"Yeah, but I wouldn't get these particular ones," Harry frowned as he left the shirts he was looking at to walk over to her. "The quality doesn't look that great on these ones," He said as he took the shoes and put them back. "Try this pair," He told her as he handed her a pair of brown knee-high shoes. "They're more comfortable and cheaper and they'll look good with that skirt you brought last

month.

"Huh," Gwen examined the shoes. "you're right," She said, earning a grin from Harry.

"Naturally," He replied just before his phone rang. "Excuse me a sec," He took his phone out and pressed it against his ear after pressing it. "Hey, Dad, what's up?" Harry asked.

"Who were you talking to?" Peter asked as he walked up to the two after he finished taking a look around and had seen Harry hang up his phone. Harry put it in his pocket before he answered Peter's question.

"It was my dad," Harry explained. "He was doing some business nearby and wanted to check up on me, he said he's coming over and will drop us off home."

"In his limo?" Peter grinned. "I love that limo."

" love this limo." Peter breathed out as he relaxed into the comfortable white seats.

"I'm glad you like it," Norman said in an amused voice as he sat opposite the trio, one leg crossed over the other and his fingers crossed together while his hands rested on top of his knee. "So, how is school going?" He asked in an interested tone.

"Really well, Mr Osborn," Gwen answered first.

"We're still at the top of our classes," Harry added.

"Apart from sports, I'm not really that good at that subject." Peter frowned.

"Hmm," Norman hummed, ignoring that last part. "That's good, have any of you suffered from any more problems from that boy?

What's his name again? remember it being something ridiculous.

Fish?"

"No," Harry replied just as Gwen let out an amused smile while

Peter snorted with laughter and covered his mouth to stop himself from laughing louder. "He goes by 'Flash'."

"Did his parents not love him?" Norman frowned.

"Not that we can tell," Harry answered without missing a beat.

"Anyway, he mouths off but doesn't really do more than that."

"Though Harry makes sure to keep him in line if he ever tries to do something." Gwen couldn't help but add.

"Excellent!" Norman smiled proudly at Harry who blushed slightly.

"Atta-boy, Harry, don't take any nonsense from anybody."

"I don't," Harry replied.

"You shouldn't," Norman continued. "You should know that..."

Whatever Norman was about to say became lost as the car suddenly swerved and nearly ended up hitting oncoming traffic.

" what in the blazes...

." Norman trailed off and banged on the

black glass behind him. "Can't you drive?!" He demanded.

"It's not my fault, Mr Osborn!" Arnold, the family driver, protested.

"The car suddenly started moving and..." Arnold's voice was suddenly cut off as the car seemed to have actually jumped for a second. A second later all the passengers jumped back in their seats as they saw a sharp green blade pierce through the car's roof, a few seconds later a big part of the car's roof was ripped off to reveal a man standing on top of the car.

This man wore a black full-body suit with green metal boots that travelled up his leg and connected to the green kneepads he was wearing. On his upper body, he wore green chest armour that covered everything from his stomach to his shoulders. His arms were covered from the hands to the elbow in another bit of green armour, but that was far from the only weird thing about this man.

The most noticeable thing was the big green, metal wings that were attached to the man's back, the upper metal feathers connected to his arms. On the man's head, he wore a metal green and black mask that covered everything from his nose down to his neck and was shaped like a bird's beak.

"Hello Osborn," The man hissed.

"Toomes?!" Norman blurted out in shock, recognising the man easily.

"It's been a while," Toomes glared at him.

"What are you doing?!" Norman demanded, ignoring the urge to point out that he had talked to Toomes only a couple of days ago.

"What's your game, Toomes?!"

"Vengeance," Toomes spat out, staring hatefully at Norman. "Don't call me Toomes, Osborn. I am now what you called me before, am 'Vulture'!"

"You're deranged," Harry spoke up.

"Ah, Osborn junior?" Toomes, now apparently Vulture, laughed.

"What do you hope to accomplish here?!" Norman shouted, directing Vulture's attention back to himself.

"I had warned you, Osborn!" Toomes raised his right arm and in doing so raised his right-wing. "I had warned you that...aargh!" Vulture fell back and off the car after a wine bottle had hit his head.

"Sorry about throwing your expensive wine, Mr Osborn!" Gwen apologised quickly, looking panicked.

"Forgiven," Norman dryly replied before banging on the black glass again, it lowered to reveal Arnold. "Get us out of here and fast!" He ordered.

"Yes, Sir." Arnold had barely managed to get out before Peter spoke up.

"Um…..guys, a creepy old dude at six o'clock." Peter pointed and the group turned to see Vulture actually flying behind them. Vulture got closer to the car and two blades popped out of his feet, he slammed the blades into the car before trying to pull it to a stop.

"You don't have a machine gun in here, do you?" Peter asked hopefully

"I got one idea," Harry said before rushing to the driver's side of the limo. "Arnold, pass me your lighter, now!" Harry ordered,

Arnold quickly did as Harry said whilst doing his best to not crash into anything. Harry grabbed the lighter and rushed towards the door on the right and reached into the small storage hole near the bottom where he knew his mother kept some emergency hair products. "Love you, Mum." Harry barely got out before Vulture's feet smashed through the back window and grabbed onto the passenger seats.

"I will not be denied my vengeance by a bunch of snotty-nosed brats!" Yelled Vulture. "I will...aargh!" Vulture let out a scream when

Harry shot some hair spray through the lighter, turning it into flames that had very nearly burned him.

"This car ain't cheap, asshole!" Harry yelled before sending more flames at Vulture's way, causing him to let go of the seat and fly a safe distance back.

"You miserable little brats!" Vulture roared before swinging his arm, sending a trio of metal spikes from his arm. One spike pierced the boot of the car while the second narrowly avoided hitting a car tyre and a third shot through the hole in the window and travelled between Norman's legs and pierced the seat.

"Fuck!" Norman cursed as he realised how lucky he was that the spike hadn't gone a bit higher and struck his Osborn maker.

"He nearly got my siblings!" Harry gasped before glaring at Vulture.

Vulture let out an angry roar and was about to send another bunch of spikes at them when suddenly a shoe box hit him in the head, causing him to get distracted enough to crash into a lampost.

"I just brought those shoes!" Gwen hissed at Peter.

"I'm sorry! I wanted to contribute!" He yelled at her just before the car turned left and drove into an underground car park.

"Contact the police immediately..." Harry began but trailed off when he saw his father had gotten his phone out and was already doing that.

"I can't believe that happened," Peter spoke over the phone to Harry that night.

"Tell me about it," Harry sighed, rubbing his eyes. "Mum was properly worried when we got home, crying her eyes out and everything.

"That sucks," Peter replied. "How's your father doing?"

"Honestly, he's more pissed than anything else, not that I blame him," Harry answered honestly as he paced up and down his room. Truthfully, he was handling the situation a lot more like his father than his mother. Harry had years of experience with his own life being threatened by some person or the other, usually Voldemort. Truth be told, after a certain point, he saw the threats to himself to be more like major annoyances than anything. But the threats to his family were something that filled Harry with anger quicker than any insult ever could. Harry got his family in this world and he had no intention of losing them. " swear, if I ever see that old buzzard again then I'm going to rip his wings off."

"You probably could you know," Peter responded. "Aunt May was really worried when I got back, looked at me like I was a ghost or something before she pulled me into a hug, I think she might have broken a rib or two." Peter half-heartedly joked.

"And what about your uncle?" Harry asked, not really in the mood to make jokes about Peter's aunt.

"Better than her, but he's worried too," Peter answered. "They're worried about you as well, they want us both to be as careful as possible since the old buzzard is still out there. Have you talked to Gwen yet?" He asked.

"Not today," Harry let out a deep breath. "I'm going to try tomorrow, I don't know how her dad is going to be handling this.

But it's quite possible that the supercop will put her under house arrest for her safety or something

"Maybe," Peter hummed. "Either way, if I was you, I'd be a lot more careful from now on.

"Don't worry," Harry said as he walked over to his desk and picked up his webshooters. "Next time, I'll be ready."