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:
Thunderofdeath97: Yeah, but, like Ross, she's delusional and pathetically-independent on her own opinion over anyone else's, so…
WhiteElfElder: Oh, if only you knew how close you are to getting that wish, my friend;
Nagiten: Come on, old friend, it should be so bleeding obvious: no? Well, just keep reading to find out, because the 'friend' will be making their presence felt soon enough and, don't worry, the fun is just beginning;
Maybe it was his confidence or his thunderbird familiar or even the fact that, for reasons unknown to her, he'd chosen to not answer to the name that he'd been adopted into, but something about Harry Strange told Daphne that he wasn't wrong.
Neither was he being cocky in saying he could hold his own.
Something about him told Daphne that he could easily do that and, if necessary, he could even do more!
Chapter 5: Class Is In Session
By the end of the first week, Harry honestly couldn't decide on which emotion he felt more:
Bored, exasperated, amused, disbelievingly-bewildered or just, plain, but also seriously annoyed.
After his power play in Slytherin – although none of the Snakes, not even those in the higher-year classes, could figure out how he'd done it – Harry was a little relieved to notice how he was left to spend most of his time alone in the dorms, not that he minded too much.
Nine times out of ten, his isolation in his Spartan-like Slytherin Dormitory often helped him focus his mind, calm the raging storm inside of him and harness his strength, readying him for whatever trial would come next.
Of course, if he ever wanted to leave the dorm, preferably without anyone knowing where he was going or what he was doing, Harry slipped into the Astral Plane or used his Sling Ring Portals to get around, which confused some people when they considered they hadn't seen him enter or leave the Common Room, much less his dormitory.
Of course, their confusion only amused Harry, because he knew they would only call what he could do Dark Magic, anyway, if they did figure it out.
That was just how fickle-minded 80% of Magical Britain's so-called elites, not to mention the rest of them, were.
In Slytherin itself, Harry's placement was a mystery because, try as they might to find out anything about him, none of the Slytherins discovered anything about the boy with the green eyes, the unusual sense of right and wrong and the neutral, even accepting attitude towards all forms and users of magic and how he was rocking the boat at Hogwarts.
His only friend in Slytherin – if he could call her such a thing, since he'd only really spent time with her in lessons – was Daphne Greengrass, who seemed to take it upon herself to be Harry's partner in lessons, but when he demonstrated a prodigy-esque level of skill with said lessons that put even the most-experienced of first-years to shame, she instead offered herself as someone Harry could talk to and come to if he had questions.
In a way, Daphne became a silent companion for Harry in the library or the Slytherin Common Room, both of them usually seen working on one piece of homework or another, with a level of mutual respect for the other's privacy that just didn't happen in Slytherin.
The Snakes – though Harry saw a lot of them more like vultures circling or hyenas picking the meat off the bones – always had to know what was going on in their dormitory and believed in a hierarchy that someone like Strange was better off at the bottom of.
And yet, even though Harry knew how easy it would be to muzzle the hyenas and ground the vultures, his thoughts and ideas of doing such a thing were dashed when, to his relief, he found that he and Daphne were also left alone as word of Parkinson's episode on the first night seemed to have spread through the House like wildfire, bringing speculation, curiosity, intimidation and no small amount of suspicion from the older years while even the most-curious of first-years, such as the blond, Draco Malfoy, realised that Harry's warning was enough of a reason to keep your distance.
Not that he did such a thing at first, mind you.
In fact, on the first morning, the blond Slytherin crossed the path of his raven-haired counterpart.
Scion
Once he was washed and dressed in his now-official Slytherin robes, Harry made his way out of the dormitory where, as he stood in the doorway, he looked back inside before he asked, "Are you going to be okay here on your own, girl?"
'I will be fine, little one,' answered Mana, looking at Harry from her place at the foot of his bed as she added, 'If I need to leave, I can assure you that I will be able to find a way. You just go; enjoy yourself and see what's so special about this so-called greatest school.'
Chuckling at the air of sarcasm that laced his familiar's last words, Harry nodded before he turned and walked out of the passageway and into the Common Room, his only new accessory for the day being his Sling Ring, which rested comfortably on the fingers of his left hand.
As for the rings of his family, given the reception he'd received in Slytherin from the previous night, Harry decided to keep them safe and secure in his trunk until he was sure that he needed to reveal them by putting them on. After all, thanks to the information given to him by Master Rameses, Harry knew that doing so would infuse him with the Family Magic of the Most Ancient and Noble House of Potter as well as the Most Ancient and Most Noble House of Peverell.
However, unlike the infusion that had taken place when he'd released his magic thanks to his Mother's gift to him, this one would truly mark him as a member of the family of Potter/Peverell and, whether he liked it or not, the traditionalists of this backwards world would call him such a thing, no matter what he said in argument.
Scion
More to the point, however, Harry would become visible in the Game of Thrones that this world played where its so-called politics and beliefs in right and wrong, justice and law as well as allies and enemies were concerned.
And, as Harry had learned from a close family friend, playing the game of nobility and being an important businessman with a legacy to uphold was a right royal pain in the ass – and he was quoting directly there.
Still, even the wise words of Tony Stark couldn't sway Harry's opinion on the thought of what might or might not happen when he put the rings on, allowing himself to feel the true strength and the wisdom of the ages thanks to all the witches and wizards before him coursing through his veins.
However, such thoughts and the idea of such an event left Harry feeling troubled: when it was all over, what would become of him?
Would he be changed?
Would he become something other than the Sorcerer Supreme's Son and Heir?
Would he even remember he was just that as he embraced the bloodline he was adopted into rather than the one he was born into?
It was a young child's worry, Harry knew that, but it was enough for him to try and hold off on officially taking his place as Lord Potter, Lord Peverell or whatever crazy new title the act would give him.
After all he already had a title he'd never asked for – The Boy-Who-Lived – and because of that, he'd chosen to be Strange and not Potter, but once the Family Magic accepted him, then he'd be known and that would mean trouble, mostly from the sea of nuisances and more pains in the ass than Hawkeye's arrows being fired all at once.
Scion
As Harry entered the Common Room, he was a little surprised to find that he wasn't the only early-riser; there, sat in one of the leather sofas that took up the space in the centre of the Common Room, was the blond-haired Draco Malfoy, the same boy who'd approached Harry the day before, only to realise that he wasn't dealing with some meek individual.
As Harry walked over to one of the chairs where Draco sat, he smirked amusingly as he asked, "So I'm not the only one used to getting up early enough, I see? But something tells me that you're actually here waiting for me, am I right, Mr Malfoy?"
"You are," said Draco, lifting himself up from his relaxed position, his hands linked together as he eyed Harry before, clearing his throat, he continued in a soft, but clear voice, "I wanted to tell you something: it's only been one night, but you've made a real impact around here, Strange. First with your brash decisions to sit with our enemies, and then your vicious slur against a man whom many of the Slytherins stand with, not that they'll admit it if anyone said otherwise."
"Well, duh! Of course you wouldn't admit it," drawled Harry, smirking in amusement at Draco's blanched expression at how cavalier the Strange Heir sounded, as he added, "Oh, come on, give me some credit for observation, Malfoy. We've got snakes on our robes for a reason: because, like a venomous serpent, we hide in secret, never letting our enemies know we're there until we're sinking our fangs into their throats, poisoning them with our venom…at least that's how the rest of the school sees you and I, not to mention everyone else in the fetching green outfits."
"And…you?" asked Draco, his shock making Harry smile as he seemed to have underestimated the blond, which wasn't something he was prone to doing all that often.
"Me? Well, I mean I'm one of us, whether the rest of you admit it or not, but, if you want my personal opinion, then I'll tell you."
While Draco seemed content to sit back down, even as Harry rested himself on the arm of the chair he was sitting in, the Junior Supreme folded his arms as he stared deep into the fireplace before he went on, "I see Slytherin House for who you…who we really are: gifted, maybe even prodigy-level magi whom are also as sly as foxes and as cunning as the greatest of strategists. A true Slytherin, and I don't mean one who worships the feet of a mass murdering psychopath. No, a true Slytherin sees everything and, thanks to this gift, they can usually plan twelve different outcomes to any kind of dilemma before breakfast, after which they'd then pick the best one available to them for the purpose of the task at hand."
Draco looked positively thunderstruck, but Harry just smiled as he looked back to the blond, shrugging ruefully as he added, "Basically, you're capable of seeing all opportunities and then picking the one that's best for you, which is good, but only as long as you know it's the right solution."
"Like the Sorting?" asked Draco, earning a nod from Harry before the blond seemed to go on and explain his point, "The hat puts us where it feels we're best suited for the future we have at Hogwarts, but because of the reputation of the House, many of the Dark families wound up here."
"Precisely," said Harry, before an amused look flashed across his face as he looked back to the low-burning hearth as he asked his Housemate, "Malfoy, could you explain something for me?"
"If…if I can," said Draco.
"You call them Dark Families, Light Families and…and what Parkinson called them," said Harry, earning a nod from Draco, which Harry took as his cue to go on, "But in life…real life, I can tell you this much. In my experience, magic is not something that judges blood or allows itself to be classed as Light, Dark, Good, Evil or anywhere in-between: it is what it is."
"I'm not hearing a question," argued Draco, earning a scoff from Harry.
"That's because you're not listening," argued the young sorcerer, heaving a dramatic sigh of inevitability before he added, "But since you're a bit behind the times, I'll indulge you: what is it, exactly that makes someone Light or Dark or deserving of titles like the one I never want to hear again, especially from anyone in this pit of vipers who might see themselves as a future companion or even a friend to someone like me?"
As Draco opened his mouth to respond, Harry cut him off with a raised hand, "Before you answer, consider the fact that what you say will decide, if not confirm whether or not you're actually worth calling a real friend and not just someone who parrots the horse shit he's been fed since the crib."
Again, the sound of Harry's cavalier attitude left Draco's eyes widening with alarm and bewildered confusion.
Seeing the lost look on his young companion's face, Harry lowered his hand before he smiled softly as he added, "And, just in case you think I'm just another snake blowing smoke where there's meant to be venom, let me offer a friendly word of advice, even though you didn't ask for it."
With that, Harry turned his green eyes on Draco, who shuddered as the magical pressure from the night before now filled the space between the two of them, providing a truly-intimidating air to Harry's next words as he addressed the shell-shocked blond.
"If you're not a friend, Draco, then who's to say you truly understand what it is I am trying to achieve being in Slytherin? After all, I'll say it here and now: as far as your world's ideas of magic would be concerned, I would be Dark, even though I can say with one million percent certainty that I do not come from a Dark Family, but, last night, you called me the very name I loathe, just because I challenged you and, more importantly, because you didn't know me."
A light blush spread across Draco's cheeks as Harry went on, "But then I got into Slytherin and, when your peers made the same mistake, you got a taste of what I do to those who annoy me, so ask yourself this before you answer my question. What would I do to an enemy?"
Then, while Draco was left in a world of confusion, shock, awe and even intimidation at the sense of magic that seemed to lace each word that Harry spoke, Harry rose up from his seat before he brushed down his robes as he added, "Think on your answer, Draco Malfoy, and when you think you have the right sort of explanation, come and find me: until then, I'm hungry, so I'll see you in the Great Hall."
Then he was gone.
After what seemed like an eternity, Draco released a breath that he hadn't noticed he'd been holding in, his grey eyes still filled with awe as he looked to where the young sorcerer had vanished.
And as he looked at where Harry had gone, Draco gulped before he whispered, "I…I can't answer that question…"
At least not in a way that wouldn't result in him making an enemy of that incredibly-powerful, Slytherin-worthy, sharp-minded sorcerer of a student.
So, the only thing Draco could ask himself was: what could he do?
Scion
After playing a pretty interesting mind game on Draco, using it as both a test of the boy's beliefs as well as the chance to help him do what he was sent to do, Harry noticed the blond kept his distance in the days that followed, but he also seemed civil enough to show an air of courtesy and respect whenever they saw each other.
Unlike many others, Draco also respected how Harry had his secrets and desired his privacy, which being a lone wolf in the Snake Pit gave him, especially when, despite the best efforts of the loud-mouthed Prefect, the bossy brunette and the scowling redheaded youth, Harry still spent his feasts in the company of Neville in Gryffindor, although he did make sure to inform Professor McGonagall or the Headmaster.
After all, he didn't want to have to deal with a headache that came with costing his House some of their precious points, just because he wanted to spend time with his friends.
However, there was one proverbial black sheep in the flock who seemed intent on opposing Harry: the Head of Slytherin, Professor Snape.
Whether in feasts or just in passing, he would usually glare at Harry with seething hatred, but, to the growing ire of the greasy man-child, the raven-haired sorcerer didn't bother paying any attention to him. Instead, he did the best that he could to get to know his fellow classmates, which resulted in him gaining a foothold with Neville that, by the end of the week, resulted in the two cementing their friendship.
As for the other Gryffindor who'd shown courtesy to Harry, Dean Thomas, Harry noticed how the boy tended to stick close to Neville, the two of them standing shoulder-to-shoulder against the raging sea of red that came their way because they were not only friends with a Slytherin, but also willing to accept the boy as one of their own despite protests from the others.
And yet, for all their complaining, Harry was amused to notice how none of the Gryffindors seemed to be in too much of a hurry to cross swords with him or his friends, which made him wonder if the Slytherins had leaked word of what happened if/when you pissed Harry off to the other Houses.
If so, it was a good thing because it meant Harry didn't have to waste perfectly good magic on trivial things like schoolyard squabbles.
Not that Hogwarts had schoolyards, unless you counted the courtyards, but that wasn't the point.
Scion
Speaking of magic, outside of feast times and the odd moments in Slytherin, Harry really made an impact in his classes right from the word go.
His first lesson was Transfiguration, which, ironically, was with the Gryffindors and, when the lesson began, Harry knew right from the start that there was going to be a moment where someone would make a mountain out of the molehill that was his talents.
He just didn't expect it to be the Head of Gryffindor herself.
When Harry walked into the Transfiguration classroom on the day of his first lesson, his first thought was one of amusement as, instead of stacks of books, examples of the art they were going to learn or even a sign of their professor, the only thing that was there was a bedraggled, scruffy-looking tabby cat who proceeded to clean her paws as she sat at the front of the class.
Narrowing his eyes as he looked at the cat, a part of him knowing it wasn't too unusual to see such a creature since students were permitted owls, cats and/or toads, so obviously there'd be one or two around the school, Harry narrowed his eyes as he examined the cat's features before, as though figuring out an ungiven riddle, he smiled slyly.
Then, without a concern for what might happen because of what he did next, Harry lifted his hands and, opening a Sling Portal, he reached through the hole and, when he removed it again, Harry held a small bottle of fresh milk.
A second portal allowed him to retrieve a bowl, which he filled with the milk and, walking forwards, he offered it to the cat, a coy smile on his face as he said, "There you go, you beautiful creature; such a shame that age has made you look so…worn in places, but you're still a lovely little kitty cat, aren't you? Would you like a little scratch behind the ears?"
To his amusement, the cat hissed and yowled in enraged response, her hackles raised at him while Harry just scoffed as he leaned in close as he whispered, "Please, Professor: I've seen a man turn into a not-so-jolly green giant and another man become a real giant and the size of a pin: trust me, this is child's play compared to real magic. But nice touch with the hiding in plain sight thing: it'll certainly surprise everyone who isn't aware of your true skill as what I can guess is an Animagus; really, Professor, bravo."
Then, without another word, Harry sat down at his desk, idly drumming his fingers on the desk before, seconds later, he sniggered in amusement as the cat lapped at the milk and mewed thankfully, earning a curt nod from Harry, "You're welcome: tell you what, next time I have to come and meet you when it's just the two of us, I'll bring a nice bottle of Scotch."
This time, the cat growled warningly, but Harry just raised his hands defensively as he added, "Whoa…easy! I meant as a gift, professor; by the Odinforce, you don't actually think I intend for a teacher to get drunk around students? Just because I learned how to be a fun guy from Tony Stark, it doesn't mean I'm completely without tact: I mean, who do you think I am, McGonagall? James Potter?"
Suddenly, the cat's hackles were raised again as she eyed Harry, but this time in alarm, as she, like Harry had done, seemed to take in everything that she saw in the young man before her.
As though he knew she had realised what only one other staff member should have been aware of – since, obviously, Snape didn't count; heck, he probably saw James Potter in the eyes of every child in the world, even a No-Maj orphan, but Harry digressed – Harry tapped his lips with a finger as he smiled at the stunned-looking, alerted animal. "You want the Scotch? You keep my secret, at least until I decide the time is right for it to be revealed to the rest of these butt-backwards-minded sheep: although, personally, I'd have expected the Head of Gryffindor to figure it out sooner, especially since she had Sirius Black's ward as a friend of the enigma that is me."
Before the cat could make another reaction, the door opened, admitting the other students, all of whom filed into the classroom and quickly found their seats.
At the front of the class, Neville took a seat next to Harry, his eyes filled with curiosity as he asked, "What's with you? You look like the cat that ate the canary."
"Ooh, there's an idea," sniggered Harry, earning another yowl from the cat on the desk, who caught the attention of the other students.
"Where's McGonagall?" asked Draco, scoffing as he muttered, "Professor Snape would never keep us waiting like this."
"No; he'd probably swoop in from the back of the class with an attention-catching lecture about the lesson, Draco," argued Harry, still drumming his fingers on the desk as he added, "And in three…two…one…"
Then, to the surprise of the whole class, save Harry, Professor McGonagall appeared where the cat had been, shifting her body from animal to human faster than any of them could recall. As she stood at the head of the class, her eyes met Harry's, who just smiled appreciatively as he watched her eye the class before she cleared her throat.
"Transfiguration is some of the most-complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."
Then, as everyone watched, McGonagall drew her wand from her robe and flicked it once at her desk, changing it into a large boar before, with another flick, she changed it back. Seeing the magic at work made a lot of people excited, but Harry just rolled his eyes.
Showmanship was one thing, but these were first-years, so it was pretty hard for him to imagine they'd be doing something on that scale this early in the game. In any other school, perhaps they'd be guided through it step-by-step, but as was previously noted, Hogwarts was stuck in the Dark Ages as was the Magical Community of Great Britain and Ireland, so Harry wouldn't have been surprised to learn they were starting off small.
He was soon proven right.
Once she was done showing them the extent of the art they were here to learn, McGonagall handed each student a matchstick and told them to transfigure it into a needle. Soon, the room was filled with people trying and failing to get the spell right while, when Harry looked up, he saw McGonagall had reverted to her feline form to watch over the class.
Just as people started to get into the exercise, however, the door to the classroom flew open again.
To Harry's amusement, the redhead named Ronald Weasley raced into the room, accompanied by Hermione Granger, who was actually chastising him as she puffed and panted. "How…how can you…you get us…us lost on our…our first day? Can you imagine how much trouble we would have gotten into if our teacher was here?"
"Oh, I don't think you'll have to imagine it," muttered Harry, holding back the urge to laugh as McGonagall repeated her earlier performance by leaping off the table and shifting in mid-air so that she wound up walking to the two students, both of whom stared in awe and, in Granger's case, disbelieving desire, almost as though she actually believed she was here to learn that skill.
"That was bloody brilliant!" gasped Weasley, earning a few sniggers from the Slytherins as Granger chastised him for his language.
McGonagall, meanwhile, feigned an amused look as she said, "Well, thank you for that assessment, Mr Weasley. Perhaps it'd be more useful if I were to transfigure Miss Granger and yourself into a pocket watch? That way, one of you might be on time."
"We…we're sorry, Miss, we…we got lost," said Granger, blushing furiously while McGonagall continued.
"Then perhaps a map? I trust you don't need one to find your seats!"
'What do you know? She does have a sense of humour,' thought Harry, silently sniggering at the thought of what his Uncle Tony, or even his Dad, might say if they saw and heard such an amusing remark from a stern-faced lady like Minerva McGonagall. 'Hmm, maybe I underestimated her.'
While Granger and Weasley were left at the mercy of their peers' laughter, McGonagall made her way forwards before, stopping next to Harry, she eyed his desk as she asked, "Mr Strange, where is your wand?"
"I don't have it, Professor," said Harry, earning a snigger from Weasley while Neville eyed Harry in shock, almost as though he'd only just noticed that Harry didn't have a wand on him.
"Then kindly take it out of your robe," said Minerva, but Harry held up his hands.
"No, Professor, I'm afraid you misunderstand me: you see, I don't have it…I haven't got a wand, period." Repeated Harry, earning a horrified gasp from Granger while Neville watched in curiosity.
McGonagall, however, glared at Harry with outrage as she asked, "What do you mean you don't have it? Every student knows that they have to have a wand, to cast their spells and perform in class and in life, Strange: how on earth do you expect to complete your assignments without one?"
"Well," said Harry, trying not to laugh as, truth was, he'd expected this ever since he'd learned about the power he wielded with magic.
Power that this world would never believe existed and yet it was the true name of the arcane power they manipulated through foolish wand-waving and silly incantations in their classes.
Looking at the matchstick in front of him, Harry sniffed once, keeping up the façade of feigning confusion as he said, "Maybe I should just…I don't know…click my fingers?"
To his amusement, disbelieving gales of belly laughs rose up with his apparently-absurd remark, but, seconds later, the hyenas' laughter soon died down when Harry, doing exactly as he'd suggested, snapped his fingers.
To the shock of McGonagall, Neville and those who could see his desk, Harry's matchstick changed into a perfectly-forged, sharp silver needle.
"That…that…that…" McGonagall gasped, her eyes as wide as saucers while, as she looked from the needle to Harry, who didn't even seem fazed by the kindergarten-level magic, she gulped as she asked him, "How…how did you…what did you do?"
"Dark Magic!" spat Weasley, but this time, it was McGonagall that cut him off as she seemed to regain herself.
"That, Mr Weasley, is five points from Gryffindor for shouting out in class," said McGonagall, looking now to Harry as she added, "And for those who may be thinking along Mr Weasley's line, what I have just witnessed is not Dark Magic, but rather, it is an exceptional feat of wandless, nonverbal magic, which is something only seen in older wizards, such as, but not limited to people like myself, Professor Dumbledore and even the Founders of Hogwarts themselves."
"But that's impossible!" exclaimed Granger, jabbing her finger accusingly at Harry as she insisted, "No-one could learn to do that at such a young age: there aren't any books on it and no-one's even heard of Strange, so it's not like he learned it from someone. How did you do it? I have to know: tell me!"
"Um, how about no?" asked Harry, turning to Granger with an apathetic look in his eyes, "But I'll gladly show you…just so you know it wasn't just a fluke thing, Thunderbolt Granger."
Then, before McGonagall or anyone else could stop him – and while Granger's face reddened with outrage as she sensed another mocking remark aimed at her closest supporter and favourite family member – Harry snapped his fingers again, causing the matchsticks on Granger and Weasley's desk to change into copper needles, which again surprised McGonagall.
Harry, however, lowered his hands before he asked, "So, is there anything else, Professor Granger? Tin? Iron? Silver? Perhaps even solid gold?"
"Yeah," laughed Malfoy, watching with everyone else as Harry did just that before he added, "There you go, Weasley: some gold for you to get some decent robes and a better class of friends."
"Or maybe crystal? Let's really push the boat out, shall we?" asked Harry, snapping his fingers again before he held up a perfectly-crystallised needle, which looked like a blade of purest diamond, from his desk, his eyes shining with amusement as he asked, "Any more requests? Or shall we all just accept that there are actually some people that are better than others and that not everything needs to be in black and white in order for it to be real: hello? We do currently live in a magical school that can't be seen by the No-Maj where we make the impossible possible."
Weasley was turning redder than his hair while Granger stared at Harry with envy practically smeared across her face.
McGonagall, however, cleared her throat as she asked, "Mr Strange?"
"Professor?"
As Harry turned to her, he was genuinely-surprised by her next words.
"Detention for a week for showing off and disrupting the class: also, you will spend the first detention going to Diagon Alley for a proper wand and you will not show off anymore, understand?"
"If that is what you wish, Ma'am," sighed Harry, surprising both Minerva and the Gryffindors with his civil tongue, before he waved his hand, once again surprising his peers as he caused all the needles to revert to matchstick form, even the ones he hadn't transformed before, licking his lips, he picked up his crystal needle as he asked, "But can I keep this one? I might show it to my Father: I think he would definitely appreciate knowing my magic continues to grow stronger, which is what we're here to learn, isn't it?"
"Get out!" cried McGonagall, her face so red that she rivalled the colour of her House as she spat, "And don't come back until you learn to show respect for your peers, your teachers and the craft you are here to learn, not show off like a monkey at the zoo."
"All right, I'm going," sighed Harry, sniffing once before he walked out.
As he reached the door, however, he added, "Don't cough up a hairball."
Gasps spread around the room as Harry walked to the door, though not before he turned back as he added, "It's funny; I thought I was a wizard, not a dog at obedience school. Maybe I should have accepted that place at Ilvermorny. I happen to know that Principal Morrigan not only appreciates my unique skill, but she even has me set up in an advanced, personal studies class that sees me learning alongside some of the other prodigies who master wandless magic at such a young age…what? You Brits don't have that? Ah well, culture shock and all that jazz."
"OUT!"
"Fine…but I'm still not going for a wand I have no need for," drawled Harry, before he left without another word, leaving a furious McGonagall, a shocked Neville, Draco and Daphne, an awed bunch of Gryffindors and Slytherins and an envious, disbelieving Granger in his wake.
Each and every one of them asking the same question, albeit with different intentions;
'How in Merlin's name did he do that?'
Scion
After the surprises in McGonagall's class, word soon spread among the first-years about how Harry had not only shown an incredibly-unique magical feat, but also how he'd shown up McGonagall about the way things were. Of course, the Slytherins weren't too pleased when Harry didn't even bother explaining to those who asked – read: demanded – for explanations from him as to how he'd done what he'd done, let alone where he'd learned to accomplish such powerful magical feats at age eleven.
As for others, especially Harry's friends in Gryffindor and Slytherin – meaning Daphne and a possible one in Draco – they were actually impressed by the way that Harry had stood his ground against someone whom was infamously-known for being someone you did not cross willingly if you had any ideas of seeing tomorrow at Hogwarts.
Of course, only Daphne and Neville knew the truth about their friend and, although he didn't say it, even to Harry, Neville was amused because his friend's attitude and the strength with which he'd stood his ground would have made his adopted Father – as Neville had to remind himself – proud.
He also wondered how Sirius might take it if he knew what sort of wizard Harry had become; however, since pretty much everyone knew him as Harry Strange and not Harry Potter, he knew he'd need Harry's permission to tell Sirius the truth about the young Slytherin's prowess, which would be something that he'd need to be careful about since learning that Harry was a Slytherin would grind Sirius' gears because of how James Potter had been a bit of a celebrity in Gryffindor.
All right, so Harry had said Neville could tell Sirius he'd met Harry, but as for the magical talents and the attitude, not to mention the Slytherinness of his demeanour and his Sorting, they were things Neville couldn't help but worry about.
As for Daphne, she was amused because, if anything, the conflict had proven that Harry definitely had to have some stones to be able to cheek off someone in authority and not give a damn, but when she also found him studying quietly instead of attending his detention, which resulted in a twenty-point deduction from Slytherin the next morning, she wondered what might be going through his mind.
Given that they were yet to attend a lesson with Professor Snape, Head of Slytherin House and someone who suspected the truth about Harry after what had happened at the Welcome Feast, she was worried.
After all, Daphne wasn't alone in knowing how the man was an avid hater of Harry Potter and he was clearly someone with an agenda of his own given how he always glared at Harry in feasts and, worryingly, didn't say anything about the boy missing his detentions.
She didn't know what Harry's special talent was, but if it was something that happened in Potions, then there was only one thing Daphne could see;
Trouble.
Scion
Throughout the rest of the week, Harry's mood shifted depending on the lesson or the situation he was forced to experience.
Firstly, after missing out on a detention, he was deducted points by McGonagall and then given another week's detention just because he'd chosen, once again, to join his friends at the Gryffindor Table, where he was put under the microscope by Granger as she watched him like a vulture circling her prey, clearly trying to intimidate him into telling her the truth of his gifts.
'Given I've met the Prince of Asgard himself and seen Dad in a bad mood, not to mention watching what happens when Uncle Bruce wakes up on the wrong side of the bed, she's sorely mistaken if she thinks she can intimidate me,' thought Harry, but he was loathed to notice the girl's stalker-like observations didn't stop.
However, his emotions took a turn for the better when, in his first Charms lesson, when Professor Flitwick – a professor whom Harry suspected had goblin blood or some other noble, magical creature lineage in him due to his fierce, but gentle looks, which said nothing about his size either – gave them a first day test to practice any charm they'd read about without consulting the books.
Some went for the Lumos charm while others attempted Alohomora, Wingardium Leviosa or some other charm; when it came to Harry's turn to demonstrate his skill, however, the young boy fixed Filius with his most-innocent, but also-curious expression.
"Are you sure you want to see what I know, Professor? I don't know if you've heard, sir, but I have a very bad habit of showing off like a monkey at the zoo. So, I ask again: are you sure?"
Receiving a positive response was all the permission Harry needed, though not before he silently thanked whatever Fate had put such a neutral force on his radar as a teacher, as he let his magic loose on the room.
Like in the Transfiguration Class, the students and Professor Flitwick were left speechless as they watched Harry's power cause books to levitate, whilst quills flew around the room like a murmur of starlings; at the same time, Harry's charmcasting caused papers to fold into a wide variety of lifelike birds, frogs and other animals who paraded around the room like Noah's Ark and, as if that wasn't enough, Harry even demonstrated the ability to undo his own work as he returned the room to its former state with a powerful raising of his hands before he commanded one word.
"DISPERSE!"
Out of all the Muggle-borns in the room, Harry wasn't surprised to see Granger was the only one who didn't laugh at the apparent shout-out to a classic Disney reference – even if, in the classic musical-animated movie, the wizard never actually says disperse, but the joke was still there – but she did fix him with an even-more-obsessed, borderline-foaming-at-the-mouth glare as she saw just how happy he was, as was their mentor, at the incredible display of magical power.
Suffice to say, the twenty points he'd lost because of McGonagall were no longer an issue as Flitwick gave him one hundred points, and excused him from homework for the rest of the month for such an exciting, creative, masterful and definitely-impressive display of Charms work.
On top of that, Harry actually thought he heard Granger choke on her own sputum when the goblin-blooded professor also encouraged Harry to continue experimenting with his new powers and, if he ever came across any developments that he either struggled with or wanted to offer as counsel for his peers, he was to let Filius know immediately as the goblin professor would not squander Harry's potential.
After the lesson, however, Harry was surprised when the professor asked him to stay behind…
Scion
Once the last student left the room, Harry looked up from his seat before, meeting the eyes of the professor, he politely inclined his head as he asked, "Is there a problem, Master Flitwick? I thought you said I did good in the lesson."
"Oh, don't worry: this isn't about your talent in the lesson, Mr Strange," said Filius, before, to Harry's surprise, the goblin smiled slyly as he looked right into Harry's eyes, almost making the boy feel like an ant under a microscope as he spoke again.
"Or is it Mr Potter?"
For a brief moment, Harry was surprised that the goblin teacher had figured it out, but, at the same time, he kept his expression as neutral as Filius himself as he replied, "It's Mr Strange, or Harry to my friends, sir. I guess someone neutral was going to figure it out eventually and, from what I've heard of you, sir, I'm honoured to know it's you…so, let me guess how you knew: my eyes?"
"Lily's eyes…and yet not," answered Filius, a note of sadness in his words as he explained, "And, as you might have heard, Master Strange, I knew her as both a student and a dear friend. One whom I am not ashamed to admit I even saw as the daughter I never had: she was as much of a prodigy as I see in you, young Sorcerer."
"Thank you, sir," said Harry, licking his lips slowly while he took a moment to wipe tears from his eyes at how calm and friendly this conversation was, especially after all the madness of Hogwarts thus far. "So, you knew her well, sir?"
"Well enough to mourn her passing and yet not so well enough that I was aware of her having a child with…with your Father; Doctor Strange."
Surprise flitted across Harry's face as he looked up again before he asked, "You know my Father, sir?"
"All goblins know the Sorcerer Supreme and the magical beings whom he calls his friends and allies," answered Filius, a note of raw pride and homage in his voice as he explained, "And although I am only a half-goblin, I still hold the man in the same high regard as my brothers and clan chief, which means I know and fully understand why you choose to call yourself what you do. This is also how I applaud your magical control, which is something that, even when I last saw Lily, I never truly believed was possible."
"How do you mean?"
Levitating his stack of books to where Harry was sitting, Filius looked the boy in the eyes before he answered his question, "Years ago, after she left me as a student leaves their mentor, Harry, I told your Mother the reason that I'd always believed in her was because of her eyes: their green colour was unlike any I had seen before or since…until today."
"I…I don't understand," muttered Harry, feeling his heart ache with this story being told of his Mother's potential.
"The eyes of a wizard," explained Filius, indicating Harry's eyes as he went on, "They're more than just simple genetics or chance DNA passed from parent to child: with our kind, Harry, the brighter the glare in a wizard's eyes, the stronger their magic is. And, as many people will tell you when you choose to share the truth of your legacy, your Mother had eyes so bright and full of hope and love that she was like an angel."
Another tear rolled down Harry's cheek as he heard this while Filius, putting a gentle hand on Harry's, continued, "I apologise if this hurts to hear it, dear boy, but this is how and why I know you have every right to use your power as you desire. You see, your eyes are so much like Lily's because their greenery is similar, but the difference is yours possesses this Light that burns brighter than the sun itself and, although some may not know why that is, I see now that it is the power of your Father, the power of the Sorcerer Supreme that gives you this light."
Here, Filius surprised Harry as he bowed respectfully to the boy before he went on, "And it is a power I'm honoured to be able to assist in its growth, no matter what that may mean for you, Harry Strange. So yes, unlike my somewhat-misguided colleague, whom I know is still a little unhappy with your desire to flaunt your gifts without thoughts for the feelings and even the abilities of others, but I digress. Unlike her, I want you to flaunt it, use it to accomplish feats of magic that show everyone why your last name is Strange and, if you ever need an ally, an advocate or even a friend, you will find one in my office…and in my House."
Harry blinked in surprise before Filius smiled as he added, "However, at the same time, I hope you will at least remember a famous saying, Harry."
"Let me guess," laughed Harry, rolling his eyes as he drawled, "With great power comes great responsibility?"
"Well, I was going to say you shouldn't be in a hurry to grow up, but…yes, I suppose that's a good one too," laughed Filius, wiping a stray tear from his eyes, while Harry smiled, a part of him wondering how his Mother might have reacted had she been able to see him being so courteous and warm-hearted with her magical father figure and dear friend.
Meanwhile, Filius cleared his throat as he explained, "You see, my young friend, I don't suppose you have noticed this, but, lately, you seem to be showing a level of maturity that scares some people, but then you act like you did in Minerva's class and, because they see you as the mature man of a spirit you choose to show to equals, they see your actions as juvenile, so, if you must be someone with a bad habit for making a wide variety of amusing anecdotes and a devil-may-care attitude, then be that person."
"Yes sir," nodded Harry, smiling once before, inclining his head, he asked, "Sir, might I ask you one last question?"
"Of course."
"My…my adopted Father, James Potter," said Harry, his eyes filled with curiosity as he asked, "Is it true that he was a bit…well…juvenile at times? I've heard rumours about him, that's all, and…well, I remember this moment from when I was an infant and…and I can't help but wonder about him."
"Oh, make no mistake, dear boy: if James could see you now, he would be proud and beyond amused to see you causing your own brand of chaos here at Hogwarts," laughed Filius, his eyes filled with mirth and amusement as he added, "Of course, if you want more stories, I would have a quiet word with Mr Longbottom's guardian: of course, you might have to deal with him holding it against you that you're a Slytherin."
"I'm not Harry Potter, sir," argued Harry, smiling proudly as he added, "Thank you for the talk…and for your discretion."
"Good luck, Master Strange," said Filius, earning another smile from Harry as he left the class, leaving the goblin professor curiously-interested at the prospects of what the future could hold for this talented young man.
Whatever it was, woe betide anyone who chose to stand in his way.
A long and intense Chapter 5 and, wow, talk about two sides of a coin: one that wants Harry to hold back – McGonagall – and another that wants him to fly free – Filius – but how will Harry adapt to his mentor's sound advice?
Also, with two elements down, what about the so-called Big Bad Wolf who wants to make Little Red Riding Hood cower and flinch every time he walks in the room?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: It's the one you've all been waiting for: Harrison Strange, Junior Sorcerer Supreme, defends his name, his honour and his mantle against the Selfishly-Pathetic Death Eater Man-Child, Snivellus Snape! So, ladies and gentlemen, boys and girls…LLLLLLLLLLLL-LETS GET READY TO RUMBLLLLLLLLLLLLLEEEEE! (Sorry, couldn't resist)
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