Heroes Assemble!

Human And Proud

"We need to find who did this," Harry stated angrily.

"And in the meantime, help the injured," Clint stated.

Daisy's sudden movement beside him, her hands shooting upwards, had Harry twisting his head to see what had caught her attention. An enormous steel beam had shifted and begun to fall, directly towards a group of four people lying prone on the ground. Only Daisy's quake powers was keeping it aloft.

Quickly, Harry summoned each of the four, shifting them along the floor about two metres and away from danger. Once the area was clear, Daisy gradually lowered the beam, making sure that it was secure and wouldn't fall any further before releasing her 'hold' on it.

"Kurt, Logan, Scott. Two men to the east, just outside the blast radius," Charles called. "I'm holding them in place."

Looking around, Harry saw a blue mutant with a tail race across, join up with the other two before he wrapped his arms around them and the three vanished in a puff of blue smoke.

Seeing the Wakandan man leaning over King T'Chaka, desperately feeling for a pulse, Harry raced to his side, dropping to his knees and waving his wand over him. The King's usually black skin was almost white with dust as he lay amongst the debris from the bombing. Unfortunately, there was nothing that Harry could do. His injuries were simply too severe; most likely, he'd been killed instantly.

"I'm sorry," Harry said, laying a hand on the man's back.

"Thank you for trying," he replied his head bowed and resting on his King's chest.

"Are you injured at all?" Harry asked.

"No. No, I am fine," the man replied.

Not trusting the man's words in his grief, Harry quickly ran his wand over him. Three cracked ribs and numerous cuts and bruises; nothing life-threatening. A series of episky's was enough to heal the cuts. Three bone-knitting spells sealed the bones back into place.

With the Wakandan seen to, Harry moved off towards the closest of the injured to check them over. He had a belt full of potions and spells ready to do what he could. Unfortunately, he was down to his last dozen drops of phoenix tears and made a mental note to acquire some more – after today, he was sure that he'd be completely out.

Harry wasn't the only one doing what they could for the injured. Jean Grey was a doctor and apparently Crystal had healer training as well. Many of the others had at least some triage experience, something that Daphne had insisted that they all attend a course in after Lagos.

The first man that Harry came across was the delegate from South Africa. He was moaning, holding his shoulder where blood was oozing out between his fingers. Gently, he pried the man's hand away, only to find that he'd been impaled by a rather large piece of sharp glass.

"Drink this," Harry ordered, holding a vial to the man's mouth.

"What is it?" he asked.

"It's a potion to restore the blood that you've lost," Harry explained. "As soon as you've drunk it, I can do something about your wound."

He was forced to tilt the man's head back slightly and hold his nose to keep him swallowing the vile potion but, in the end, Harry got it into him. A diagnostic charm showed that the glass hadn't hit anything vital. Holding his hand ready alongside his wand, Harry quickly, wandlessly, vanished the glass before healing the cut. He watched as the skin knitted itself back together.

"You'll be alright now," Harry assured him. "Just rest here until the Doctors can double check you over."

As Harry began to get up to go to the next person, the South African grabbed his arm.