Scion of Sorcery: The Avenger of Hogwarts
Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Notes: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Dedication: I'd like to dedicate this story to everyone who enjoyed the original version of this story: my recommended reads are Trickshot, Reborn, Raven, Widow's Vengeance and Wands and Claws by JustBored21, Man of Iron, Child of Magic and Child of Iron, Goblet of Fire by Zathara001, Master Potter of Kamar-Taj by Ryuko monogatari, Child of the Storm and Ghosts of the Past by Nimbus Llewelyn, Harry Potter: Wizard of Kamar-Taj by Trace Carter, The Rise of the Last Potter by HPfanfictioner66, Harry Potter and the Lightning Lord and Saviour of Magic by Colt01, Knight Errant and Harry Potter and the Shadow of the Demon by ArlyssTolero, Harry Potter The Protector of Magic by TigerSwarm9122, Two Sides to Every Galleon by GJWickham and Magical Origins by Dante 2K-25
Key Pairings: Harry/Daphne; Stephen/Christine;
Other Pairings: Tony/Pepper; Thor/Jane; Others TBD
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
'Mental Speech'
/Parseltongue/
Review Answers:
WhiteElfElder: Doubt it: remember the original? He was good in that story and he's good in this one too;
Nagiten: Ha, even I never noticed that mistake, but, just to clarify, she has blue eyes; I went back and changed it;
A-gods-flame: Obviously, though one might surprise you who won't be bashed – for once;
"If you have all this power, what are you doing back here where they'll try and suppress it?" asked Neville, earning a cocky snigger from Harry.
"The key word there, brother-mine," drawled Harry, his eyes shining while his magic seemed to fill the air as he smiled like the cat that ate the canary, his voice ringing with amusement and purpose as he looked to his honorary sibling.
"Is try!"
Chapter 2: Your House Is Like Your Family
Sometime later, while Neville seemed content passing the time with a book on Herbology and Harry simply chose to enjoy the scenery that rolled past the window of their compartment, the calm mood of the two travellers was interrupted by the sound of clattering from outside the door.
As both boys looked to the door, it opened, revealing a kind lady who gave them a friendly smile as she asked, "Anything off the trolley, dears?"
"Yes please. What about you, Harry?" asked Neville, earning a polite decline from Harry, whom Neville then noticed reached into his pocket before he withdrew a small piece of parchment, before the Longbottom Heir rose from his seat and, walking to the door, he said, "Pumpkin Pasty, please."
After paying the woman and returning with his treat, Neville closed the door to their compartment once again before he sat down while the trolley lady left them alone.
As he picked at the pastry in his hands, Neville looked up to Harry before he asked, "You not hungry?"
"Not really," admitted Harry, his eyes now on the parchment in his hands as he added, "But don't you worry, Neville: if I need anything, let's just say I've got the means to get it."
"I might not know what that means, and yet, somehow, I have no trouble believing that," chuckled Neville, taking a bite out of his pasty before he looked from his friend to the parchment in his hand. "So…do you mind if I ask what's got you looking so troubled, Harry?"
"It's nothing, really," replied Harry, letting out a small sigh as he held up said parchment before he explained, "It's just…this is the last thing my Mum ever wrote to me…you know…before that night?"
Neville's ears turned red with shame as he gulped down the bite he was eating before, clearing his throat, he quickly said, "Oh, I…I'm sorry; I didn't realise…um…listen, if…if you want some time alone…"
"No, it's okay," replied Harry, chuckling softly as he looked up to Neville. "I already know what's written on here; I just kept it because…well, let's just say it helped me make a pretty big decision about my future."
"What decision?"
"What I want to do with my life, and my time here in the UK," replied Harry, before, to Neville's surprise, the young sorcerer unfolded the parchment.
"Hey! It's okay," insisted Neville, a part of him still embarrassed at having intruded on such a personal moment for Harry, "You…you don't have to…"
"No, but I want to," said Harry, petting Mana, who let out a chirp of curiosity, even as Harry added, "I mean, for one thing, it's going to tell you how I even knew your last name in the first place. And, for another thing…well, I hope it'll help you understand a bit more about what…what makes me so different, because you will notice it, pal."
Neville couldn't resist blushing, even as Harry cleared his throat before, looking down at the parchment, he began reading the message;
My beautiful boy,
If your Father has done as I have asked him to, then this letter will have been given to you on the day that you officially become a man: maybe not physically, but inside, where it matters, you are now a man. For this is the day where your life begins and, despite what your Dad's told me about this agreement with Archmage Wulfgarden, I hope you choose the path you wish to take, no matter what.
As Harry read that last part, he saw Neville's eyes widen at the mention of the Archmage, but, unlike many others might have done, Neville kept his peace as Harry kept reading.
For you, my baby, are a very powerful sorcerer, and not just because your Father is the Sorcerer Supreme: neither James nor I could explain it, but when I was pregnant with you, there were magical events happening that could be traced to you, performing feats while you were still waiting to be brought into the world.
You had a strong magical core that seemed to be able to harness the power of magic at its core and make it do whatever you wish: such acts and such powers have not been seen in our world for centuries, not since the days of the Founders, Merlin and before then.
Even your Dad's surprised by what you can do, but this is why I know you will be safe with him.
I suspect that, as you read this letter, I'm no longer there with you, but please don't be sad, Harry: for I will always be with you in a place where no magic, not even the powers of the Sorcerer Supreme, can take me from you.
In your heart and in your dreams.
As Harry remembered doing when he'd read that part, Neville was now shedding tears, while he was also smiling as Harry shared this personal, but very interesting and informative final communication between Mother and Son with him.
After this day, if you're reading this letter on your birthday, your life will change and, while I too would like it very much for you to go and make new friends, reunite with old family friends and find yourself at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, I know in my heart that even I cannot make you do something you do not wish to do.
No-one can!
So, instead, I leave you with the one thing that is yours: enclosed with this letter is a blue stone, infused with the ancient family magic from your adopted Father, James, and a special enchantment from your Dad, Doctor Stephen Strange. Once activated, the magic will grant you the power that you have inside you, including the strength and abilities you showed to us when you were just a baby growing inside me.
I know, or rather, I suspect that by the time you read this letter, you will have already shown true power in the art of sorcery, but, as I'm sure your Dad knows, there's a big difference between our world and theirs.
To that end, I leave you with some advice.
First, never let anyone dictate the terms of magic to you, Harry.
There is no good or evil with magic's grace: there is only the will and intent of the one who wields it.
Second: if you choose to return to Britain and attend Hogwarts, know that you'll have friends and allies waiting for you, such as your godfather, Sirius Black, your 'magical' brother, Neville Longbottom – born on the same day as you – and, unless he's decided, for some reason, to disgrace himself and turn on the vow he made James, you'll also have the support and protection of Albus Dumbledore, a man who has something that rightfully belongs to you.
If he does not return it, use your power and claim it: trust me, Harry, it will serve you and you alone.
"You…you said I was like a brother," whispered Neville, earning a slow nod from Harry, while Neville blushed again, "Sorry, Harry; please, go on."
With a supportive smile that showed how he understood Neville's interruption, Harry did as he suggested as he continued reading to the end of the letter, his voice soft, but clear as he read his Mother's last words.
As for the stone, use your blood to trigger the release spells and give you what is rightfully yours: I cannot keep you from your true destiny any longer than I already have. And neither can nor should anyone else; all I can say is the same thing I said to you every night as you sleep.
Be safe, be strong and know that you are loved.
And now, in the words of old magic, I wish you well, my baby;
Blessed be.
Love, Mum
As Harry finished reading the letter, Neville quickly wiped more tears from his eyes before, sniffing softly, he looked up to Harry as he asked, "What did she mean by a stone?"
"I already used it," replied Harry, remembering the memories of his unborn and early-stages magic that he had regained, if not unlocked, thanks to his Mother's last gift. "My Father explained it to me; he gave Mum the stone shortly before Voldemort killed her and James Potter. When he gave it to her, it had an incantation that, in a manner of speaking, cocooned my magical core, putting what you might call a limit on the power I could tap into. You see, Neville, both as Doctor Strange's son and the last scion of the Potters, my core is exceptionally-matured, if not powerful, for one so young. Even Master Rameses said that my power was unlike any child he's ever met, and he's older than Dumbledore."
"Wow!"
"And that's not even taking into account my magical maturity when I turn seventeen," explained Harry, indicating the Sling Ring around his neck as he continued, "Just in sorcery alone, I'm as powerful as my Dad, but add in wizardry and, again, according to my Master, I could be the next Emrys, if not something much stronger, so you can imagine why my Mum felt she had to limit, if not bind some of my powers as a baby?"
Neville just nodded dumbly, while Harry looked down at Mana as he explained, "But it's okay, because Dad also says that Mana came from that power; you see, you won't believe me, Neville, but something did happen the night Voldemort was vanquished. Something that was, quite possibly, one of the most-powerful mystical events to happen on this planet since the coming of Thor Odinson and the short-lived battle of Hong Kong that saw my Dad and his allies going up against the Dark Zealot Kaecilius."
"Who?"
"Oh," said Harry, nodding once as he added, "Right, sorry; I forgot that your world's not quite as caught up to the rest of the world as everyone else. Long-story short, Kaecilius and his Master were like Voldemort, but much worse and more-dangerous, while Thor Odinson, aka the Thunderer and Crown Prince of Asgard, is one of Earth's Mightiest Heroes and, personally-speaking, a pretty good friend, if not one of my favourite honorary uncles in this world."
To Harry's amusement, Neville still looked confused, but Harry just shook his head, "Ah, don't worry about it, Neville; if you like, one day, I'll show you who I mean because I'll introduce you…and hopefully not because he's had to come and help me deal with a problem."
While Neville couldn't resist looking a little intimidated, but still confused, the dark-haired boy cleared his throat before he changed topics, "So…I never asked you before, Harry, but where's your trunk? I mean, you've got a carry case, which I can guess is meant to be for Mana when you're in the Mug…sorry, No-Maj world…"
He quickly changed his words, when Harry looked over at him, a look of displeasure on the boy's face as he quickly said, "Hey, don't worry. You go ahead and call it what you want, Neville, I don't mind the cultural difference: personally-speaking, and not just because I've spent a lot of time over in the States, but I prefer to use the term of No-Maj because Muggle sounds just as degrading to them as Squib and Muggle-born, which is also why I consider Muggle-borns as First Generation, or First-Gen for short, but I'm not going to try and force my ways on others."
"Why?" asked Neville, earning a look from Harry before he went on, "I mean why do you think it degrades them? Your Mum…"
"Was a First-Gen. Yes, I know," said Harry, linking his fingers together while he crossed his legs, shifting Mana gently, so that she was now sitting on the seat next to him, as he explained, "But that doesn't mean I have to like the term. I just appreciate, if not honour and respect the memory of the lady who was willing to pay the ultimate price to save my life from that snake-faced monster, Lord Voldemort."
Not for the first time – since Harry had said the name several times already, but he'd ignored the expected reaction – Neville let out a gasp of shock, if not partial-fear, but, like all the times before, Harry didn't seem to notice as he went on in a cavalier tone.
"Personally, I think even calling them anything less than witch or wizard, is degrading because it makes it seem like we think they're beneath us, but look at the evidence you just gave, Neville. A First-Gen was the one to stand up to Voldemort, not to mention she's also known to your lot as one of the brightest witches of the past century despite being what she was; add in how dangerous certain First-Gens can be when pushed, which is why creatures like Obscurials exist and, really, they're no less than anyone else."
Here, Harry leaned forwards as he explained, "That's why I prefer to call them what they really are: First-Gen, as in first generations, or, if I really want to, I call them new-bloods because, despite the purity-driven beliefs of places like the UK, at the end of the day, they have the same magic as any other witch or wizard; they just don't have the legacy to match it, which, between you and me, Neville, is more than just annoying, it's downright pathetic to think that blood makes anyone better or worse than anyone else."
"Says the son of the Sorcerer Supreme," sniggered Neville, earning a smile from Harry as he held up his hands.
"Okay, so maybe I'm biased in saying that my blood and my larger, more-matured magical core, not to mention my skills do give me an advantage, but it's not one I'll flaunt like many purebloods here will do," argued Harry, earning a stunned look from Neville, whom was starting to feel a new, greater sense of respect for his friend and, apparently, brother-in-arms.
Harry, however, scoffed in amusement as he quickly added, "All right, so maybe flaunt is the wrong word to use, because, if there's one thing I do promise, if not assure you of, Neville, it's that I am going to proudly, happily and, sure, maybe even humorously show off what I can do because I can. But, what I should probably say is that I won't go around expecting people to bow down, worship the ground I walk on and think I'm better than them because their blood or their parentage is different. But as for my abilities, I can, will and am going to have as much fun with it as I wish and if you lot don't like it, you can lump it."
Neville couldn't resist sharing Harry's amusement as the young sorcerer then tapped his heart as he explained, "Because, you see, unlike what a lot of people are going to believe about it, my magical ability is great because I learned how to use it. I've been training and studying the ways of the Mystic Arts, as well as Wizard Magic, since I was about seven years old. I trained every day, with breaks and occasional fun and games, studying like one possessed until I was absolutely sure I could control their energies. And, unlike many witches and wizards, especially here on Avalon's shores, Masters like me and mine don't have such blind notions of Good and Evil, with the possibility of the forbidden arts, which only one person has the right to access."
"Your Dad," said Neville, earning a slow nod from Harry before he asked, "Does he?"
"Only if he has no other choice, and, even then, he's very careful in using them, especially magic surrounding the forces that touch the worst of the forbidden elements, such as the powers over Life and Death," answered Harry, remembering the many debates he'd had with his Father, Master Hamir, Wong and even Master Rameses about the way that his power was so similar to Kaecilius, the Ancient One and the zealots who'd given themselves to Dormammu.
"Of course, what isn't so well known about Dad is that he has one of the worst kinds of magic contained within the power of his personal relic," said Harry, earning a curious look from Neville, though not before Harry shivered as he also remembered the many times he'd felt such great and terrible power coming from inside his Father's Eye of Agamotto.
At one point, he'd accidentally overheard Wong talk about something called an Infinity Stone, but because he didn't know how they'd react to the fact that he knew of such thing, Harry had forgotten about it and let the matter pass him by.
But that didn't stop him wondering, and feeling a great and terrible swell of dread when he thought about it.
"Harry?"
Suddenly, Harry was snapped out of his thoughts when he heard Neville speaking to him.
Looking up as he was brought back to reality, Harry coughed once before he asked, "Sorry, what were you saying?"
"You zoned out after saying that your Dad had a dangerous relic, but what did you mean by that? And…are you all right? You look a bit troubled by something…maybe something you said?" asked Neville.
"It…it's nothing," said Harry, rubbing his arms before he reached down and stroked Mana's feathers as he explained, "I was just…well, let's just say that if the power my Dad truly wields was known to your lot, they'd either try and steal it from him or claim it the darkest of so-called Dark Magics. So, for now, let's just put a pin in that topic, what do you say?"
"Oh…okay," said Neville, before he looked out of the window, just in time to see the skies darkening, as he asked, "Hey, I've just noticed; we're almost there, but nobody's come to disturb us or ask to join us. Is…was that you too?"
"The rune," said Harry, earning a surprised look from Neville, while Harry smiled as he explained, "It's a Privacy Rune, remember? Not only does it keep the talk between the two of us in here, it also projects a sort of cautionary aura out there that stops anyone getting too curious."
"Wow…now that's magic."
"No, dear brother," chuckled Harry, giving Mana another pet along her feathers before he winked at Neville.
"That's sorcery. Now, what do you say we get changed into our Hogwarts robes, since we're nearly there?"
Scion
When Harry, together with Neville and Mana, left the Hogwarts Express at the other end of the journey, the first thing the young sorcerer noticed was that it was getting dark by the time they'd reached the station, a cool, but mildly-discomforting chill blowing across the platform as Harry stepped down off the train.
Next to him, Neville shivered slightly while Mana let out a low trill of discomfort as the eyes of many more students looked in the direction of her and her young friend.
'Ignore them,' Harry told her, petting her soft feathers while he also noticed many of the students eyeing Mana curiously, some even looking at her in awe and disbelief. 'Remember, no-one can or will take you from me, girl. You are my familiar and, no matter what, they can't keep us apart.'
'I know, little one,' agreed Mana, nuzzling Harry's hand as she explained, 'I just wish they wouldn't stare: it should be obvious to them that everyone is different at this place. More than that, however, I am uncomfortable because I sense many of them wanting to try and use me for their own ends.'
'That's just because thunderbirds are magical creatures with unknown powers and many different possibilities in magical application,' Harry reminded her, but before he could say anything else, he was cut off both verbally and mentally when a loud voice boomed in their direction, drawing the first years away from the rest of the group.
As Harry looked towards the source, his eyes widened as he saw a man who could have honestly rivalled a certain not-so-jolly green giant he knew and both loved and feared with his size and stature: he was a broad figure whose face seemed to be hidden beneath a wild nest of dark hair that only allowed the man's dark eyes to be seen, but when Harry looked into those eyes, he felt a semblance of warmth run through him.
The man was dressed in a very large overcoat that seemed to be nothing but pockets while, in one hand, he carried a lantern that looked as though it had been lit magically. As the students reached him, however, Harry gasped while he also felt slightly amused when the man let out a gasp.
"Blimey, who does that little beauty belong to?"
'I think I like him,' commented Mana, earning a snigger from Harry.
'Of course you do; everyone likes flattery,' retorted Harry, though he was content to let Mana step forwards proudly, showing herself off to the large man, who almost seemed close to tears as she walked right up to him.
At the same time, Harry noticed many more of the students watching the spectacle in awe, even some of the older years before they disappeared to wherever they went to get to the school, unlike the first years, who all saw the large man gently stroking Mana's feathers, his soft touch and his gentle movements betraying his giant size.
"She's mine," said Harry, just as proudly as Mana looked, earning a look of surprise, as well as amazement from the large man as he added, "And you just made a friend for life, sir."
"The name's Hagrid," said the large man, earning a nod from Harry while Neville's eyes widened as he explained, "Keeper of Keys and Grounds at Hogwarts: and I 'ope yeh don't mind me askin', but I'd like ter see 'er a little more; would tha' be a'right?"
"Of course," answered Harry, watching as Mana walked back to his side while Hagrid, wiping what looked like a stray tear from his eye, turned on his heel and led the students away from the station and along a narrow pathway.
As they followed Hagrid, Harry looked down at Mana before he asked, 'I think you made a friend, girl: so, what do you think? Would you be okay visiting Mr Hagrid from time to time, Mana?'
'I suppose it would mean I'd have somewhere safe to stay if they don't let me stay with you in your room, Harry,' argued Mana, earning a nod of agreement from Harry before she added, 'But, even so, I like him: he's soft, gentle and reminds me of…'
'If you're going to say The Hulk, don't bother, because if he ever finds out, the Other Guy will probably smash me into pâté,' drawled Harry, earning a laugh from Mana before he chuckled himself as he added, 'Mind you, when I first saw him, I thought about Uncle Bruce's not-so-jolly-green-giant other half too, but like I said, just don't tell him that.'
'My beak is sealed,' sniggered Mana before she, along with Harry, let out a gasp of awe as they, along with their future classmates, got a first glimpse of Hogwarts as they made their way towards a small fleet of boats at the edge of a lake.
Staring up at the amazing spectacle, Harry felt like he could actually feel the air of magic that the dark castle with its lit towers and ominous, but awe-inspiring scenery let off.
Everything about the school screamed magic and, even as Harry reached the edge of the lake with the rest of the students, he couldn't help but shiver as the same feeling brushed over him.
'This place is old,' commented Mana, earning a nod of agreement from Harry as, together with Neville, he made his way to one of the boats while Mana explained, 'Filled with mystery…and wonder…the very air sings with magic; do you feel it, little one?'
'Some sort of protective warding,' agreed Harry, his eyes narrowed as he added, 'Much like the concealment wards that keep Kamar-Taj away from the eyes of the No-Maj who work in the city. But there's also something else: an ancient power lies in the warding, but also within the school. I…I can sense it; the power…it makes me think of…'
'The Sorcerer Supreme,' added Mana, earning a nod from Harry before she asked, 'Could this place have some sort of connection to him? Or possibly even someone else, perhaps the Ancient One?'
'If it does, then it's my duty as his son and heir to find it and either contain it, master whatever mystery it presents or return it to him at Kamar-Taj or the Sanctum to be dealt with there,' said Harry, earning a trill of agreement from Mana before he shushed her as he sat down in the boat.
At the same time, Neville looked to Harry as he asked, "Hey, are you all right there, Harry? You still look a bit dazed."
"Sorry," replied Harry, running a hand through his dark hair as he admitted, "Because of my advantage, I can actually feel the magic of the school and, although I've been raised around magic, even my Dad's strength doesn't compare to the awe I feel because of the school."
"Sirius told me that there's a rumour that says the school is sentient," agreed Neville, watching as two more students joined them in the boat.
One was a blonde-haired young woman who had an air of danger about her that reminded Harry of another on-again-off-again companion of his Father's named Natasha Romanov, also known as the Black Widow. Her skin was smooth in appearance while her eyes were a cold, piercing shade of blue that made Harry think of ice: despite this, the girl looked pretty attractive in a certain light while, like them, she was already dressed in her school robes, though she wore hers with an air of pride and nobility that made Harry curious about her and wary at the same time.
The other companion was a dark-skinned boy with short, dark hair and a slightly-rounded face; he seemed to be in awe of Mana as he climbed into the boat while, at the same time, he gave a courteous nod of greeting to Harry and Neville, both of whom returned the gesture in kind before Harry, deciding to be the one to break the proverbial ice, extended a friendly hand to the boy.
"My name's Harrison Strange, but my friends call me Harry," explained the son of the Sorcerer Supreme, his name earning a curious look from the boy while the girl eyed him with mystery and a look that almost seemed to try and read Harry's language or his presentation.
At the same time, the boy returned the hand with his own as he replied, "Nice to meet you, Harrison, I'm Dean Thomas…and you are?"
"Neville Longbottom," answered Neville, shaking hands with Dean before he explained to Harry, "And I can tell you who this is, Harry: her name's Heiress Daphne Greengrass. I've met her at a few parties over the years, but never had the pleasure of talking to her."
"Then, on behalf of us both, may I say what an honour it is to make your acquaintance, Heiress Greengrass," said Harry before, to Dean's surprise and Neville's amusement, he didn't just take Daphne's hand; he also kissed the back of it like a gentleman, earning a mocking, but good-natured wolf-whistle from Dean, while Neville shook his head in amusement.
Harry, meanwhile, shrugged ruefully as he looked to Daphne before he added, "As far as Heirs and Heiresses go, I guess you could call me Heir Strange, but it makes it sound like the word estranged, so, if you want, just call me Harrison…or Harry, since that's my less-formal name."
"Or, I could just call you strange," remarked Daphne, earning a laugh from Neville at the wordplay, while Harry inclined his head, a part of him then agreeing with his earlier statement that the girl was someone to be wary of.
Her voice was as smooth as her looks, but she had this cold air about her that was indifferent and on alert almost every minute of every day; like he'd thought, she just like Miss Romanov when she was either on assignment for her boss or her allies or whenever she entered a new situation around people she didn't know or didn't trust.
"If you like, Greengrass," drawled Harry, earning a raised eyebrow from the girl at how calmly he replied to her dig, even as Harry added, "I was just trying to respect your ways of addressing those from old families. But, if you'd rather be informal and on a last-name basis, that's fine; how about you, Thomas?"
"Hey, Dean's just fine with me, Harry," laughed the boy, earning a smile and a nod from Harry before he indicated Mana as he asked, "And what about her? Your friend made quite the impression on Mr Hagrid back there."
"I'll say," laughed Harry, stroking Mana's feathers while he explained, "Her name's Mana and, to answer the question you probably want to ask, yes, she's my familiar, which is why she's here."
"Mind you, that might not last very long," argued Daphne, earning a shrug from Harry just as they reached the other side of the lake.
While Neville and Dean clambered off the boat, Harry kept to the role of a gentleman as he offered a hand to Daphne, helping her off the boat.
As he did so, however, Harry was a little surprised when Daphne tripped slightly and fell against Harry's chest, earning a few looks from others who saw them; however, as the girl pulled herself up, clearing her throat as though trying to rid herself of the awkward feeling, she looked into Harry's eyes before, to his amusement, she smiled and, giving him a sly wink, she addressed him in a very soft voice.
"Harrison Strange, are you? Not with those eyes."
"Well, that's who I've been for the past several years," replied Harry, indicating the area around them before he added, "But by all means, Miss Greengrass, tell them who I really am…or rather, who I once was: I'm not ashamed of it and I'm not afraid to start a collection for every time I have to correct them because, despite that being my other name, I choose to be Harrison Harry Strange as well as the boy formerly known as…as You-Know-Who."
Once again, Daphne's eyes widened in surprise at Harry's comeback.
Admittedly, her tripping had been intentional since she'd needed a closer look at Harry's face after seeing the green fire in his eyes that was infamous amongst many of the witches and wizards.
But when she'd begun to ask about his true name, part of her wondering if he feared it or chose to loathe it for some reason, it had been the Slytherin in her sensing an opportunity. And yet Harry had thrown it back at her with the logic of a Ravenclaw, the bravery of a Gryffindor, the personal loyalty of a Hufflepuff and the sly sense of cunning and covering all bases necessary for him that a Slytherin would possess.
Even though she knew this was the boy known as the supposedly-lost Heir Harry James Potter, Daphne was stunned because this wasn't the boy of legend she'd heard so much about.
This was someone that knew how to play the game very well indeed.
Clearing her throat again, Daphne gave Harry a thin smile as she told him, "Well whoever you are, it's nice to meet you and I can't wait to see where you get sorted in a few minutes' time, Mr Strange."
"Likewise, Miss Greengrass," answered Harry, gesturing for Daphne to take the lead as they followed the rest of the first-years up to the top of the stairs where most of the group had vanished through a set of large oak doors.
Following the group inside the building, Harry and Daphne found themselves standing on another stairway with the rest of the stragglers while, at the front of the group, a stern-looking witch with her hair done up in a bun and dark robes that seemed to cover every inch of her body eyed them curiously as she addressed the group as a whole.
The speech that she gave, Harry thought, seemed to be pretty well-rehearsed, but he paid attention nonetheless, which meant he noticed the air of emotion that the witch showed when she mentioned Slytherin House and the sense of pride and warning that she gave off when she talked about the point system and the House Cup.
Then, once she was done, the witch, who Harry learned was named Professor McGonagall, left the students to tidy themselves up a bit, which, for Harry, meant checking on himself, making sure that Mana was ready and comfortable – the presence of whom he was also surprised to notice that McGonagall hadn't said anything – and keeping an eye on the group as a whole.
As the group fidgeted nervously and whispers started to rise, Harry smiled as he saw Neville make his way back over to them as he asked, "What kept you? We were already through the door before I noticed you were gone."
"Miss Greengrass and I just had an interesting chat about our true identities," said Harry, nodding once as he then added in a lower voice, "She knows who I really am, Neville: apparently, my eyes make me pretty recognisable to some people."
"Given they're so eerily-similar to your Mum's, can you blame them?" asked Neville, earning a shrug from Harry.
Before he could say anything else, however, Harry saw Neville's expression turn sour when a drawling voice cut through the peace shared between the two friends.
"Well, well, well; look what the Kneazle dragged in."
"Oh great," scowled Neville, turning to face the owner of the voice while Harry's eyes flicked upwards as he saw a blond-haired boy moving through the crowd, flanked by two people who looked more like mini-Hulks than human beings.
The boy seemed to be as proud-looking and noble as Daphne, but as Harry looked at him, he didn't get the feeling of possible friendship from this one. Instead, alarm bells started ringing as the boy addressed them, or rather, as he addressed Neville.
"If it isn't my blood traitor cousin's little charity case: so, tell me, Longbottom, has he decided to poison our blood further by making you his heir?"
"That right is saved for…someone else, Malfoy," scowled Neville, trying not to look in Harry's direction as he added, "And even if he did, it'd be because Sirius thought I deserved it, not because some Death Eater forced him to make his choice: how is your Dad? Still kissing Fudge's boots and lining his pockets to stay out of Azkaban like your demented Aunt?"
"Watch your mouth!" snapped Malfoy, earning a snigger from Harry that had him looking at the emerald-eyed scion in curiosity, though, when he did so, he actually seemed to change tack, earning a roll of the eyes from Harry at the piss-poor attempt to seem civil, if not neutral, as he addressed the Strange Heir. "Ah, you're the one the Thunderbird belongs to: this makes you someone with real strength; of course, if you don't learn to realise some families are better than others, you'll wind up making friends with the wrong sort."
"Then I suppose it's a good thing we're not friends then, isn't it, Malfoy?" asked Harry before, to Neville's amusement and Malfoy's alarm, the young sorcerer tapped into his magic, which caused him to levitate a few inches off the ground much like his Father would do with his Cloak.
This brought him eye-to-eye with the blond while Harry explained, "Also, for the record, even if I wanted to be friends with you, it'd be because, like this title you say Neville should have, you've earned it, not because of some belief that you're someone because Daddy's friends with the Minister."
"Choose your enemies carefully, you filthy little Mudblood," snarled Malfoy, earning a hardened look from both Harry and Neville while, at the same time, Mana let out a cry of warning, her body crackling with lightning at the insinuation towards her little one.
Malfoy, however, just scoffed before he added, "You think I'm scared of you because of that weakling creature? Well, just wait until my Father hears about this."
"Then contact him, Malfoy, because, when you do, you can tell him that he'll have to contend with my very good friend of the family, Archmage Rameses Wulfgarden," drawled Harry, earning another shocked gasp from Neville, an awestruck look from Daphne and a horrified look from Malfoy as Harry, dropping to the ground again, smiled smugly as he added, "Never forget the first law of nature, Malfoy: there's always a bigger fish and, as big as your Father is because he's friends with the Minister, I'd like to see him stand up to the one, true power in the world."
Only Neville seemed to notice the way Harry said world and not magical world, which made him wonder if Harry was talking about the power that he'd told Neville about on the train.
Meanwhile, as Harry had partially expected – given the nature of these Brits and their way of kissing up to those with the biggest wands, or bank accounts – Malfoy closed his mouth as quickly as he'd opened it before, clearing his throat, he nodded curtly, almost like he'd expected some sort of forgiveness, as he said, "I…it seems I spoke out of turn, friend: on behalf of the House of Malfoy, I apologise."
"And on behalf of my Father, my bloodline and my legacy, in the name of the House of Strange, I accept your apology," said Harry, smiling before, deciding to stick the wound in deeper, he extended a hand as he added, "I never got your first name."
"Draco," said the Malfoy boy, accepting the hand before he asked, "And you?"
"Harrison Strange," answered Harry.
Lowering his hand, Harry stroked Mana's feathers while he also noticed McGonagall returning; without another word, Harry, Neville, Mana and a stunned Daphne walked into the Great Hall with the rest of their classmates. As soon as Harry got his first look at the Hogwarts Great Hall, he felt a surge of awed wonder rise up in him.
Here, standing in a place that felt like they were standing in the heart of the school, with lights burning from enchanted candles while the air above, around and even the ground below them seemed to ripple with magic, Harry felt like he could understand what it was that made Hogwarts so revered as a school, even though her teachings were somewhat outdated.
Four House Tables filled the room, each one running vertically from the head of the room to the doors where the new group of first-years walked in, each of them occupied by two rows of students spread out randomly down the tables, each of the students dressed in robes that were highlighted by one of four colours: red, blue, yellow and green.
'This is disgusting,' commented Mana, her place at Harry's side earning a few whispers from some of the students, not that Harry noticed this nor did Mana as they made their way forwards with the rest of the students.
As he walked with her, Harry shushed his friend before he asked, 'What's disgusting, girl?'
'The format of this so-called educational institute,' answered Mana, 'Look at them, little one: they segregate themselves between these so-called Houses and don't even seem to respect or appreciate each other. The ones in green even feel malefic towards the others while the blues don't hold any respect for the old ways of knowledge as Master Wulfgarden told us. How they can call themselves wizards, much less children of my Mistress, is beyond me!'
'Well then, I guess we'll have to do as my favourite metal-clad uncle might do and introduce a little disorderly conduct into their lives, won't we, my dear friend?' asked Harry, sniggering under his breath as he reached the front with the rest of the group.
As he looked up at the head of the room, Harry saw a fifth table that was occupied by a number of adults, each of whom watched the group with interest and curiosity in their eyes. However, as soon as Harry looked up, his eyes were drawn to the centre of the fifth table where an elderly gentleman dressed in red robes with a white beard that trailed down his chest was seated in a throne-like chair that looked as though it had been forged from solid gold.
As soon as their eyes met, Harry felt a modicum of familiarity pass from him to the old man and back again before, to his bemusement, the man inclined his head to Harry, who politely returned the gesture as he mentally whispered, 'Mana…I think that's him…the one Mum said I had to see…'
'He feels almost as powerful as you and your Father, little one,' replied Mana, dipping her own head in recognition of the old man before she explained, 'Remember you were supposed to claim something that rightfully belongs to you from this one, but, when you do, you should be wary as you should also remember how this disgrace of a magical community sees your powers and the name of your Father.'
'Don't worry, I won't forget that in a hurry,' muttered Harry, tearing his eyes away from the old man where he saw Professor McGonagall holding a roll of parchment, her eyes scanning the crowd as she called out from a list of what Harry assumed were names of the new students.
Out of Harry's group, the mysterious enigma that was Miss Daphne Greengrass was the first called up and, when she sat beneath an old, raggedy hat that looked like it had survived the test of time, a moment seemed to pass before the hat declared her a Slytherin, which surprised Harry.
Given what Mana had told him about the students dressed in green – which was the table that Daphne walked towards – they weren't exactly the sort who preferred the company of neutral elements, much less those who didn't give off the air of malice or immorality that Harry's Thunderbird familiar had sensed.
Pulling himself off his train of thought for the time being, Harry saw Neville make his way forwards and, like Daphne, he too sat beneath the hat, though it was only for a moment before the hat declared him a new member of Gryffindor House, which had a smile forming on Neville's face and, as he walked past Harry, he gave him a curt nod as if to say see you soon.
Malfoy was next, but this time, it was Harry who was amused as the hat had barely touched his head before it sent him to Slytherin, which was a decision that Harry thought suited the guy given everything he'd seen and heard since being introduced to the blond.
After Malfoy, there were a few more students whom were called up before, to Harry's chagrin, Professor McGonagall called, "Harry Potter?"
As soon as the name left the woman's lips, whispers, pointing gestures, questions and looks of surprise, disbelief and wonder filled the Great Hall.
'She called your name, little one,' said Mana, but Harry didn't move, not even when the eyes of the old man looked right at him while others looked around, as though scanning the sea of faces for the familiar signs of the hero of the magical world.
'That's not my name anymore,' argued Harry, standing his ground as he told her, 'I've told everyone who's met me so far that my name is Harry Strange, not Harry Potter. Potter was my adoptive Father and, while he died protecting me and my birth Mother, the fact remains that my blood, my magic and my strength is that of Stephen Strange, Sorcerer Supreme, so that is whose name I have taken since the day he confirmed for me that he is my Dad.'
Here, Harry's eyes shone with an air of power usually reserved for intense training, if not emotional moments, as he added, 'And no-one, not this medieval world, not Master Rameses, not even Merlin himself will make me take that back!'
"Harry Potter!" exclaimed McGonagall, almost as though she'd asked for Harry to come forwards several times.
In retort, more whispers followed her words, but Harry still didn't move; instead, he looked right into the eyes of the old man, the headmaster of Hogwarts, Albus Dumbledore, and, slowly but surely, he shook his head as he mouthed, "That's not my name anymore."
To his surprise, the old man gave a temporary look of shock before he nodded once, almost as though he accepted this.
Then, as Harry watched, Dumbledore leaned forwards before he whispered something unintelligible in McGonagall's ear.
Once he was done, the old woman seemed to look saddened, but she too nodded in understanding before, turning back to the crowd, she asked.
"Harry Strange?"
'That's more like it,' thought Harry, moving forwards, the sound of the name earning a few more curious and even alarmed looks from several of the students as he sat underneath the Sorting Hat before, at long last, the old item was lowered over Harry's eyes, concealing the faces of the school's occupants from his view.
As soon as he did so, however, Harry gasped aloud when a feeling of incredible, overwhelming magic surged through him, causing his whole body to tense up while, at the same time, unseen by him, but not by anyone else, the enchanted ceiling of the Great Hall suddenly lit up with a level of fury worthy of something equivalent to a thousand thunderstorms going off at once.
In the corner of the Great Hall, the House Point counters lit up like red, blue, yellow and green stars, each of their emblems shining just as brightly as the storm hit its crescendo while the torches grew large and wild in their brackets, alarming many of the students.
At the same time, Harry's entire body seemed to glow with this ethereal golden light that enveloped all four Houses in its glow, each of the students trembling, shuddering and even whimpering as what could only be described as pure magic rushed through them, almost as though some deity or divine force had entered the school.
Behind the glowing boy, Albus Dumbledore's eyes widened in genuine surprise, if not wonder, while, down the table, the goblin-blooded Professor Filius Flitwick crossed his arms over his chest and bowed his head, his goblin warrior's blood recognising the magic for what it was.
Raw power!
The kind that, time was, many different races, including, but not limited to the goblins, the centaurs and the elves had respected and shown due homage to in the name of Magic herself.
And now that power had come to Hogwarts; for what purpose, Filius didn't know, but, deep inside his spirit, he knew he couldn't wait to find out.
As the storm passed, the glow around the new student faded away and the remaining students were calmed by assurances from Professor McGonagall and the headmaster, there wasn't a single member of Hogwarts, staff or student, who would forget the event too quickly.
Of course, many would actually choose to believe that what had happened was a sign of Dark Magic, like the bigoted idiots they were, while others would actually try and figure out the mystery, as though they believed it was their right, but, for the boy in question, he was just curious about what was going to happen next.
At the same time, the Sorting Hat opened its rim before it let out a cry that set the stage for the future of Hogwarts and, indeed, magic itself;
Not that any of them knew it at the time as, instead, they all watched with awe, wonder and shock as the hat made its decision:
"SLYTHERIN!"
Chapter 2 and Harry seems to have really made an impact on the staff and students, but what could the strange surge of magic really mean, especially for the Son and Heir of the Sorcerer Supreme?
Also, do you think it's too late for Harry to want to start a 'swear jar' for every time he has to correct someone who might realise/believe that he's Harry Potter, whilst not accepting he is now Harry Strange?
Also, how many will seek to cause trouble because of his Dad's 'infamy?'
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harry's made a pretty strong first impression, but now he's about to rock the boat and show everyone he might be one of them, but he's not going to be one of them!
Please Read and Review
AN: Portrayal
Daphne Greengrass: Dove Cameron
(I KNOW she had a role in Agents of SHIELD in the MCU TV Universe, but this is who I often imagine when I think of Daphne)