Jericho Potter
Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Dedication: I would like to dedicate this story to everyone who encouraged me to stay strong during these dark times: my recommended reads are Saviour of Magic by Colt01, Silver King, Trickshot and Damaged Raven by JustBored21, The Mind Arts by Wu Gang, The Power Of Love And Family by llst40, Harry Potter and the Tribe of Mystics and Harold Peverell and the Order of Snow Leopard by Lord of mystics, Dark Lord Peverell by Callisto Blackridge, Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man and When the Thunder Breaks by WeLonelyOldSouls
Key Pairing: Eventual Harry/Luna
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mind Speech'
/Parseltongue/
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INSTEAD: See the bottom of this chapter for a note on the pairing and the overall result
'Oh, trust me, old man,' said a young, cold-toned voice, the sound of which made Dumbledore blanch when he looked up to Harry's face again.
When he did so, however, he gasped when he heard the voice again…
And yet, Harry Potter's lips never moved a muscle.
'Merlin has absolutely nothing to do with this.'
Chapter 2: Meeting of the Minds
Harry Potter was coming to Hogwarts.
In any other situation, those six words would have been as much of a cause for celebration for Albus Dumbledore as it was for every other man, woman and child in Magical Britain: for one thing, it meant that he had been right in doing what he had done and now, the future of the magical world was set in stone.
However, in this instance, Dumbledore didn't know whether to be alarmed, excited, curious or horrified at the prospect of Harry Potter coming to Hogwarts, especially with this latest development concerning the young man in question.
'What's wrong, Albus?' asked the mentally-projected voice of the Magical World's Saviour, the sound and existence of which Dumbledore still couldn't believe was even possible, much less at a young age and even less by someone who'd been raised like Harry had been. 'Didn't you hear me? I said I'm coming to Hogwarts. That's what you want, isn't it?'
"H-H-Harry…" whispered Albus, a note of pain and fear echoing in his own voice as he asked, "I…I don't understand…"
'What else is new?' drawled Harry, earning a shocked look from Dumbledore while Harry smiled with a cocky, confident air as he lifted a hand and spun his chair around without much effort, before he sat back down in said chair, linking his fingers together in a regal, confident manner as he smiled up at the Headmaster as he indicated to said elder.
'Won't you sit down, Professor? At your age, I imagine a comfortable chair would be something of a godsend. Oh, and if you want to conjure one, go right ahead: as long as I can keep it afterwards. Like you, I do love a comfortable seat when I'm maxing and relaxing.'
Even as Albus moved to do as Harry had kindly suggested, he also watched as the white canine – which he realised, with a jolt of shock, was actually a wolf and not a dog as he'd first thought – next to Harry moved to rest her furry head in her master's lap, earning a soft chuckle – mentally of course – from Harry as he looked down and petted her softly. 'I know, I spoil you, girl.'
Having conjured a comfortable red-coloured armchair of his own, Albus slowly sat down before he cleared his throat as he looked up at Harry with a questionable air, which echoed in his voice as he asked, "So, Harry…can I ask…"
'You can, but that doesn't mean I have to answer,' said Harry, still petting his canine companion – Lupa, if Albus remembered rightly: it was a name that he found oddly comforting, if only for the boy before him: it was, after all, the name of a Roman deity who'd helped raise two orphaned boys of her own, Romulus and Remus – as he looked up to Dumbledore before he added, 'Before we get started, however, I have a gift for you, Albus.'
"You know, I prefer Professor Dumbledore when my students talk to me."
'And I prefer Master or Mr Potter when someone who isn't a friend speaks to me, ALBUS,' Said Harry, giving the old man a sly, cheeky wink that, to Dumbledore's shock, reminded him of another boy with a mischievous streak as long as his arm.
'Oh,' said Harry suddenly, earning a surprised look from Dumbledore as Harry cocked an eyebrow before he asked, 'I remind you of my godfather, Sirius Black, do I? Well, if I ever meet the guy, I'm sure he'll take it as a compliment…well, once he gets out of Azkaban, anyway.'
"Harry, how did you…" Dumbledore began, but before he could finish, the door opened, revealing Petunia, who was carrying two large glasses of lemonade, as well as a tray of cakes and, curiously – at least, to Dumbledore, it was – a small pile of bacon rashers: as he looked at the bacon, however, Albus saw Harry reach forwards before he dropped the meat in front of his wolf companion, who began chomping on it happily.
Harry, meanwhile, dismissed Petunia with a wave of his hand before, indicating the tray set between them on a coffee table – though Albus didn't know where it had come from since he was sure there hadn't been a coffee table in the room when he'd first walked in – Harry addressed Albus once more.
'Help yourself, Albus: I'm sorry it's lemonade and not lemon drops, but I never really had a love for them: they tended to get stuck in my teeth when I crunched them up.'
'How does he know about my preference for offering lemon drops?' asked Dumbledore, but when he did so, he heard another mentally-projected chuckle before he saw Harry lift his right hand to his temple, tapping it slowly as he looked right into Dumbledore's eyes.
'I told you I was giving you a gift, Albus, so let's match the psychic power of Harry Potter, Boy-Who-Lived against the famous Albus Dumbledore.'
Suddenly, the truth of Harry's knowledge hit Dumbledore like he'd just been tackled by a rampaging dragon. "You…you can read my mind?"
'I can read anyone's mind, old man,' replied Harry, lowering his hand as he indicated the door before he added, 'And that's not all I can do, as I'm sure you've come to figure out by now.'
Looking to the door, Dumbledore's eyes widened again as he remembered the eerily-calm, apathetic, hypnotised manner with which Petunia and Vernon had spoken, as well as how calm and controlled their son had seemed despite the fact he'd had a wolf biting him and promised that she could eat him later if she wanted to.
"You…you can control people with your mind?"
'My mind, my magic, same difference, really, isn't it?' asked Harry, lowering his hand from the side of his head before he helped himself to one of the glasses between them, even as he continued as though it was a normal conversation, 'I won't deny it: it was strange, at first…scary, even. But over time, and with a little help and patience, I learned to control it and make it my own…so, again, like I said, it's sort of both mind and magic, wouldn't you agree, Albus?'
"You…you're using Legilimency to control the Muggles?"
'I prefer to call it Telepathy, like the Muggles do, actually,' said Harry, lowering his glass, which Albus was surprised to see was now empty, even though there had to have been the equivalent of a full pint in that glass, before he continued, 'And, like I said, it was strange, at first: I mean, I could hear things that little old me couldn't understand. Sounds, images, sensations and emotions that weren't my own: all the while, I was screaming inside my own head because…well, let me show you since I know you're curious anyway.'
With that, Harry blinked once before he opened his mouth, but, when he did so, Albus' eyes widened when, as Harry's lips moved, no sound came out, not even a whisper of a voice.
"Harry…" gasped Dumbledore, his eyes wide with pain, fear and a whole new sensation of guilt and disbelief as he asked, "You…you're…"
'Mute,' said Harry, closing his mouth as he tapped the scar on his throat before he added, 'Thanks to this, Albus Dumbledore: of course, it wasn't until I started to develop this power of mine that I learned about it. I mean, you knew about how much my favourite puppets hated magic, as well as hating my Mother, my Father and everything magical, right?'
"I…I thought…"
'You thought some small scrap of familial love would blossom into something more because Mum was dead and there were blood wards around the home keeping me here and keeping trouble out,' said Harry, earning another alarmed look from Dumbledore before the headmaster's expression softened slightly as he looked into Harry's eyes.
"Can you please not read my mind, Harry?"
'Why not? You were planning on doing it to me and the Dursleys to see why I wasn't coming to Hogwarts at first.'
Albus couldn't deny it – vocally or mentally – Harry was right.
He had intended to use Legilimency to figure out a way to bring Harry to his senses and help him understand that he belonged at Hogwarts.
'No need for that now, is there?'
"Harry…" groaned Dumbledore, a part of him wondering if this was what it felt like when he showed knowledge and power over others because he'd been able to read their minds and use what he had found to his advantage.
'Probably.'
Setting down his own glass, having taken a drink to try and gather his senses, Dumbledore looked up at Harry before, heaving a sigh of his own, the aged headmaster asked, "So, what is this gift you wish to give me, Harry?"
'Can't you figure it out?' asked Harry, tapping his head again in a rhythmic manner.
It took Dumbledore only a moment to put the pieces together, "You…you're going to let me read your mind."
'No, old man,' said Harry, smiling in an amused manner as he waggled a finger at Dumbledore, almost as though he was the Professor and the old man was nothing more than a naughty child being scolded for their insolence.
'I'm going to let you try!'
Albus remembered an age-old saying about throwing down the gauntlet.
Well, Harry was definitely doing that.
Still, if it meant he might get some insight into what could have possibly happened to the boy in front of him to make him so cold, cavalier and callous about controlling others and discovering secrets better-kept-hidden, with or without the permission of the secret keeper, then he wasn't about to turn away from this.
Settling into his chair, Albus looked right into Harry's eyes as he told him, "Very well, but I warn you: this will be unpleasant."
'For whom?'
Doing his best to ignore the jibe, Albus unleashed every ounce of his Legilimency right into the eyes of the Boy-Who-Lived.
As soon as he did so, however, Dumbledore had only a moment to gasp before he felt his mind being pulled, rather-forcibly, away from the rest of his body, leaving him feeling weightless and without sensation of anything, any direction, any time or place or anyone or anything.
All he knew was the voice that spoke to him, its mocking cockiness more evident than anything his Father could have come up with.
'Thank you for letting me in.'
Jericho
"Albus? Albus? ALBUS!"
Hearing the loud voice call out to him, Dumbledore jerked awake with a gasping start, though when he did so, he was surprised to find he was no longer sitting on his armchair in the living room of Number Four.
Instead, he was sitting at a desk, almost like the desks that his students sat at during lessons at Hogwarts.
In fact, as he looked around, Dumbledore's eyes widened when he realised this was a classroom at Hogwarts: the Defence Against the Dark Arts Classroom to be precise. The walls were covered with strange cartoony images of people and creatures that Albus didn't recognise while, as he looked back to the front of the class, Albus' eyes widened again when he saw the figure standing at the top of the stairs outside the door to the teacher's office.
Harry James Potter, now dressed in long, black robes that were embroidered with an eerie blue-coloured trim and a badge-like crest that was shaped like a letter X in a circular-shaped perimeter. This Harry also looked older, if only a few years while, as Dumbledore looked up at him, he saw Harry smile knowingly before he waggled his finger in a mocking manner.
"Tut-tut, Mr Dumbledore; falling asleep in class: that'll be 10 points from Gryffindor."
When Dumbledore looked down, he gasped as he saw he was indeed dressed in aa Gryffindor uniform, just like the one he used to wear back when he was a student. In fact, his whole body looked like it had done when he was at school: a much-younger Dumbledore with no stresses or strains of what the future would bring, including, but not limited to the battles with Tom and Gellert.
Looking back up at the elder-Harry walking down the stairs, Dumbledore cleared his throat as he asked, "Harry, what is this? Where have you brought us? How are we…how am I…how are you…"
"Talking?" asked Harry, actually moving his lips while he smiled as he explained, "Well, Mr Dumbledore, first I'll forgive you for being so informal with your professors: second, I'll take another 5 points for being such a dunderhead seeing as how it should be obvious how this is all happening."
"But…but it feels so real," gasped Dumbledore, looking up to Harry as he asked, "If…if we're in your head, how…"
"Of course we're in my head," agreed Harry, pointing a finger at Dumbledore as he wondered, "But why shouldn't that mean it isn't real? Oh, and that's a point back to Gryffindor for getting the answer half-right."
"I…I don't understand."
"Of course you don't," agreed Harry, moving towards the end of the table where Dumbledore sat while he went on, "You never understand: you just go ahead and do what you think is for the Greater Good. That's why you never realised the wound I'd sustained when I was just a baby: that's why you let yourself believe you were doing the right thing when, for all you knew, you might have been creating another Tom Riddle, albeit one that doesn't need an orphanage and a war to make him the next Dark Lord."
"Harry…" said Albus, though when he did so, he saw Harry raise a finger, again scolding him, which caused Dumbledore to sigh as he decided he would play along, "Professor Potter."
"Yes, Mr Dumbledore?"
"How do you know all these things?" asked Dumbledore, looking up at Harry as he asked, "If we're in your head, how is it you know so much about Tom, about what happened that night and about my…my belief in the Greater Good?"
"You mean your obsession," argued Harry, leaning back against the desk while he folded his arms as he explained, "Well, like I said, you got the question half-right: let me fill in the blank for you regarding the other half. Question, Mr Dumbledore: what was the last thing you heard before you decided my classroom was an ideal bedroom?"
Dumbledore needed a moment to think on it, but by the time the moment had passed, he swallowed hard as he looked back into Harry's emerald-green eyes as he answered him.
"Thank you for letting me in."
"Another point to Gryffindor," said Harry, nodding in amused approval as he asked, "Bonus question: what do you think that means?"
Looking around the room again, Albus cleared his throat before, returning his attention to Harry, he asked, "This…this isn't your head?"
"Not exactly."
Lifting a hand to his own head, Albus gulped hard as he whispered, "It's mine."
"Yes," said Harry, before he shrugged ruefully as he added, "And no; this place we're in is a sort of crossing point between our two minds: the astral plane, if you like. I mean, that's what it's often called in the comic books."
Here, he indicated the cartoon images on the walls as he added, "I told you I had help: this is how. Stories, fiction, Muggle comic books: I used them as a guide; weird? Maybe, but it worked: now, you could say I'm like Charles Xavier and Jean Grey combined with The Shadow King and Emma Frost, all rolled into one handsome, emerald-green-eyed package. I even found my own alias in these books: would you like to know it?"
"If…if you wouldn't mind, Professor," replied Dumbledore, earning a small smile from Harry as he stood up from the desk.
When he did so, Albus was surprised to notice his own younger body had, somehow, returned to his older visage while, when he looked up at Harry, he saw the young, stylishly-dressed boy from Privet Drive now standing opposite him, even as Harry went on.
"I chose to call myself…JERICHO!"
"Jericho?" asked Dumbledore, earning a nod from Harry while the old man frowned as he asked, "Why?"
"Why would any kid pick a nickname, Albus? Because it sounds cool," said Harry, folding his arms again as he leaned against the rail leading up to the Defence Professor's office as he went on, "And because, like the city, I was someone people tried to build walls around to keep me out of the way, but, thanks to my powers, I've learned to break the walls down and now…well, you've seen the results for yourself."
"But then," Albus asked, rising from his own seat as he asked, "If…if you have this power, Harry, why…why do you use it to make…slaves of the people who would care about you?"
"Care about me?" asked Harry, letting out a dry laugh as he asked, "Is that really what you think they'd do, Albus? Do you even understand why I have made the entire street my puppets' theatre?"
Here, Harry scoffed as he threw his arms up before he indicated Dumbledore as he drawled, "Look at who I'm talking to; of course you don't understand. How could you? You just left me here with a letter, on a cold doorstep, like the milkman delivering a fresh pint, which, ironically, is how Petunia found me the next morning…"
As he said the last part, Harry snapped his head up as he smiled with a mixture of sinister amusement and revelation as he looked to Albus before he went on, "Hey, do you know what, Albus? I'm in the mood for a little field trip: care to join me?"
Before Dumbledore could answer, Harry lifted his hand and snapped his fingers, causing the whole classroom to shatter into a bazillion pieces, leaving the old man flailing in the air as he looked up at a smug-looking Harry, who hovered there like he was Superman flying through the skies.
"Harry, what are you doing?"
"What?" asked Harry, pointing downwards before he added, "You're the one who wants to know why I am what I am…well, hold on tight, make sure your seats and tray-tables are in the upright position and, in the event of trouble, stick your head between your knees and kiss your ass goodbye."
With that, he snapped his fingers again, causing both of them to plummet, even as Harry's voice echoed through the strange mental domain he seemed to have gained some sort of mastery over.
"We thank you for flying Air Jericho, not that you have a choice, and hope you enjoy your flight."
Chapter 2 and I daresay Dumbledore may be right when he says Sirius would love this Harry: jokey, sly, cunning and not afraid to tell it like it is, but just how did he become this?
Also, is Harry right about how close he could have come to being like Tom Riddle without the orphanage and, if so, can he be saved from that fate now? What about when he meets whoever or whatever did this to him to begin with?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry takes Albus on a trip down memory lane, revealing quite a bit about the true upbringing of the boy who likes to call himself Jericho, but when it's all over, will the walls really come crumbling down? And I don't mean Harry's walls;
Please Read and Review
AN: Pairing Result
A Huge thank you to everyone for offering their opinions on the pairing.
While I was a little conflicted about the Slash suggestions, the popular one seemed to be more or less unanimous and, to be perfectly honest, I'm surprised I needed anyone to give me the suggestion.
Our favourite blonde-haired eccentric with the possibility of gifts of her own is PERFECT for this Harry, and so, we now have a Harry/Luna pairing coming up later-on in the story, but that doesn't mean our hero – or is it anti-hero? Not sure yet – won't have a real impact made on him right from the word go.
I might even bring Luna up a year and have her sorted in the same year as Harry: thoughts?
AN2: Albus
So, before anyone asks, in Harry's 'astral plane' Dumbledore looks like his much-younger self from DH and Fantastic Beasts – not Jude Law, but the younger version portrayed by Toby Regbo;
As for older Dumbledore, just in case you're wondering, I actually see an aged Jude Law as this Dumbledore: what can I say? FB 2's Dumbledore is actually my favourite, followed by Harris and then Gambon;
