Mighty Little Mage
Disclaimer/Plot/Author's Note: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Recommended Reads: The Rise of the Last Potter by HPfanfictioner66, Proud Parents, Harry Crow and More Important Things by RobSt, Harry Potter and the Methods of Rationality by Less Wrong, Partially Kissed Hero by Perfect Lionheart, Harry Potter and the Daft Morons and Angry Harry and the Seven by Sinyk, Harry Potter and the Prince of Slytherin by The Sinister Man, Harry Potter and the Rune Stone Path by Temporal Knight and A Study in Magic and A Study in Magic: The Application by Books of Change
Key Pairing: Eventual Harmony
Other Pairings: To be determined
Normal Speech
'Thoughts'
/Parseltongue/
Review Answers:
JemPyorStarheart: As you'll see in this chapter, going after old Snake Face is the last thing on Harrison's mind;
Potter Abducted by Penguins: Hey, I agree with you, friend: unfortunately, JK had other plans; fortunately, some genius invented fanfiction, so we can make that mistake right;
Mighty Little Mage
ALSO: A WARNING TO ALL READERS! (Especially all the nitpicking whiners whose negative attitudes led to me scrapping the old idea for this new one in the first place)
In the original, Harrison's arrogance, self-superiority and flat-out attitude annoyed and displeased a lot of readers.
THAT IS HOW I CHOOSE TO WRITE HIM AND IT WILL NOT BE CHANGING FOR THIS STORY! YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED!
When you go to argue against the point, remember this: he's basically had to look after himself, had his heart and soul broken twice by so-called family members and relied on knowledge and learning to be his sanctuary.
Yes, he has a sarcastic, even insulting nature, but, to him, he's just being himself.
(Just think of Walter O'Brien from the TV show Scorpion, Patrick Jane from TV's The Mentalist, Tony Stark from Marvel – more RDJ's portrayal of him than the comics – and, of course, Sheldon from BBT/Young Sheldon – both old and young versions – and put them all together and you'll get a good idea)
So, before anyone gets as far as I hope this story gets compared to the original and THEN makes a chapter out of whining about Harrison's attitude, I'll say it now…
HARRISON IS GOING TO STAY THAT WAY IN THIS STORY AND, IF YOU DON'T LIKE THAT SORT OF THING, DON'T READ ANY FURTHER INTO THIS STORY!
Now…on with the next chapter…
Mighty Little Mage
Although he didn't admit it, there was a part of Harrison that couldn't help but think, 'Please let it be true…because it's a whole new world to explore, new knowledge to claim and new levels of greatness to reach.'
Another part of him, however, couldn't help but also think, 'Ha, ha, very funny; my name's Bugs Bunny…and I say: come on then, show me exactly what's up, Doc!'
Chapter 2: Extraordinary Claims
Several Years Ago
"Uncle?"
A low growl escaped Vernon Dursley's lips as, not for the first time did he wonder what he was doing bringing this freak along with his family on a holiday to Blackpool.
However, when he turned to see the little freeloading show-off fidgeting nervously, clutching his crotch area with a hint of fear and desperation on his face, Vernon's piggy eyes lit up as, not only did he remember why he'd allowed the freak to come with them, but, at the same time, he saw the perfect opportunity to go ahead with his plan.
And, thanks to Dudley's love for the Red Devils, the city of Manchester also gave them the perfect opportunity to make sure nobody said anything.
"What's wrong? Need the loo, do you?"
Six-year-old Harry James Potter nodded in desperation, earning a mockingly-sweet smile from Vernon as he took his nephew by the hand before he added, "Come on, then; little tyke. Honestly, anyone would think you couldn't go to the bathroom on your own like a big boy."
Mighty Little Mage
Ten minutes, and an empty bladder later, Harry walked out of the bathroom, having washed his hands and cleaned himself up like a good boy.
When he did so, however, his eyes widened in alarm when he saw his Uncle wasn't waiting for him.
"Uncle Vernon?"
A few people gave Harry curious, if not saddened looks as they saw him looking around nervously, fearfully and with no small amount of confusion as he made his way back into the main body of the Trafford Centre, his eyes filled with tears of pain and loss as he cried, "Hello? Uncle Vernon? Aunt Petunia? Dudley? Where are you? I'm sorry I took so long; please, where are you?"
"Are you alright there, son?"
Turning, Harry saw a policeman – as was evident by his uniform and the hat, radio and badge on his uniform – looking at him in suspicion and a hint of alarm at seeing a small boy, dressed in clothes that looked way too big for him, wandering around the busy Manchester shopping arcade.
"Um…" said Harry nervously, remembering all the warnings his Uncle had given about talking to strangers and getting people to feel sorry for him.
However, at the same time, the fact of the matter was that he was a six-year-old boy, lost and alone and frightened, in one of the biggest cities in the UK, with no idea what he was meant to do, where his family had gone or why they'd just decided to up and leave him while he'd been answering the call of nature.
"Can you help me, Mister? I…I can't find my family…"
Mighty Little Mage
Present Day
Snapping his eyes open, Harrison scowled as he not only felt the memories of his loss of family crossing his mind – a small part of him wondering why such thoughts were even bothering him now, after so many years of accepting the fact that, in a nutshell, the Dursleys hadn't wanted him in the first place – but, with the sight of the morning sun shining through his window, he was also reminded of the date.
July thirty-first.
In years gone by, it had been a date Harrison had come to recognise as the anniversary of his birth, but only because he never forgot anything, which meant he remembered his former family writing it on the forms for school before they'd lost him. After that day, however, the date became just another unimportant occasion for him; in the orphanage, a birthday meant a reason to go through the motions with all the usual things: a little tea party with a cheap cake, finger buffet and silly party games for prizes nobody wanted.
Oh, and the presents, of course, but, like the party, they were so cheap and impersonal that, to be perfectly honest, Harrison had only ever really treasured one gift and that was because he'd secretly bought it himself and addressed it from an anonymous benefactor.
And that was his David Copperfield book, which he'd bought and presented to himself on his tenth birthday as a celebration of his move against the people who'd basically smashed up his childhood and reminded him of the painful truth.
The only one Harrison could rely on was himself!
But other than that, the odd clothes or birthday money – meaning a 'reward' for good behaviour from the care workers – he received was received with his usual apathetic expression. Oh, he pretended to show gratitude to the staff for their kindness, and he did his best to enjoy the trip that usually followed to a local theme park or the cinema, but, on the inside, his gratitude level was as dead as dead could be.
After all, these people had let him be sent back to the Millers, only to become a prisoner and a forced object of selfish, egotistical pride, so why, exactly, would he ever thank them and mean it after that had happened?
Even so, as he slowly began to realise that it was now the day of his eleventh birthday dawned, Harrison seemed to show a brief modicum of excitement and anticipation, though only he knew why he risked breaking tradition and letting an infinitesimal fraction of the kid he used to be show through his practiced mask of apathy and cold indifference.
After all, if the joke he'd heard some time ago turned out to be a joke, he anticipated the fun he was going to have responding to it afterwards.
And if the joke wasn't a joke, he was excited about the prospect of a plethora of wisdom, knowledge and skills available to him.
Anything else was just dull to him.
And, besides, this humour moment would also give Harrison the chance to ask about something else he'd been remembering since that letter.
Mighty Little Mage
"An…orphanage? Lily Potter's son is in an…orphanage?"
Shock.
Horror.
Alarm.
Disbelief.
Rage.
Disappointment.
On top of several other emotions, these particular sensations made up most of the reaction given by Filius Flitwick as he stood alongside his old, dear friend and colleague, Minerva McGonagall, as the two of them stood together outside the gates to St Christopher's.
However, as Minerva stood in front of the gates next to Filius, she couldn't help but share his disbelief and outrage as she insisted, "Damnit! I told Albus those Muggles were no good for him, but you know him, Filius: he just doesn't listen! I can't believe I didn't even notice until after I had asked you to join me. Had I known…had any of us known…"
"More to the point, how Lily even wanted Harry anywhere near Petunia is a mystery," argued Filius, his voice edged by a note of firm disbelief and suspicion as he told her, "I can't count the number of times I had Lily come to me, seeking help and advice on keeping away from her family during the holidays, even though her dear parents cared greatly for her and accepted she was a witch."
"I heard Petunia was jealous that Lily was at Hogwarts and, when she contacted the school for a chance to attend, she was turned away," replied Minerva, earning a scoff from Filius before she sighed deeply as she added, "But that's neither here nor there, Filius: we are here to…to reassure Mr Potter of his rightful heritage."
"I still find it hard to believe he doesn't know what he has," argued Filius, earning a nod from Minerva before he watched as she lifted a hand and pressed on a single button next to the gate.
A few minutes, and a long-winded, but interesting conversation about their quarry, later, the two Professors found themselves walking up a single flight of stairs and along a hallway, led by a charming, but wary young man whom seemed hesitant to let them be anywhere near Harry at all.
He also seemed to be trying his hardest to avoid talking about said boy, as though there was something off with him.
Minerva just hoped he was wrong!
Mighty Little Mage
'Hmm…nearly lunchtime and still no sign of any visitors…well, I guess it was inevitable.'
Even as he thought about the fact that there was still no sign of his supposed future-mentors, Harrison scoffed to himself as he considered his thoughts about how un-amused he was about having his time wasted and the stupid, fantastical idea about something as trivial as so-called magic being brought out of him, as though he was a child who was supposed to be entertained by floating balloons and disappearing handkerchiefs.
Mighty Little Mage
True, he might have shown an interest in prestidigitation at the time, but, as he was reminded of his abandonment, Harrison also found himself reminded of the same thing his neglectful relations had said time and time again.
"THERE'S NO SUCH THING AS MAGIC!"
Because of this headache-inducing reminder – as Harrison also remembered his Aunt having a level of pitch that could make dogs howl while his Uncle could have put a locomotive to shame with how loud his bellowing roar was – Harrison had briefly questioned the fact that any of this was true, let alone possible.
But, because he had, for now, played along with the ruse and invited the messenger to meet with him, he'd held onto an iota of hope.
An iota that was now dashed as Harrison realised how pathetically-childish he must have been believing in such fantasies.
Mighty Little Mage
Pulling himself away from where he'd been waiting by his bedroom window, Harrison walked to the door of his room, a part of him inevitably deciding that if he wasn't going to get excited about the prospect of magic, he might as well go through the motions and fill his belly with party food.
Couldn't continue down the path to whatever he decided was his future prospect on an empty stomach, now, could he?
As he opened the door, however, his eyes narrowed curiously when he found Roger Bailey, one of the care workers at the orphanage, standing outside the door, his hand raised as though he was about to knock.
'Spooky, or just sheer dumb luck,' thought Harrison, sticking his hands in his pockets as he looked from Roger to the two people with him: one of them looked like a really weird person, with how she was dressed in clothes that wouldn't have looked out of style in some olden-days periodical drama, including a very unnecessarily-large hat. The woman wore a long black coat that seemed to cover most of her body while, in one arm, she carried what looked like an ordinary-looking carpet bag, which would have reminded Harrison of a certain magical nanny, if such banal musicals didn't bore him stupid.
Except for Les Mis, of course; the epic tale and dark themes of the music, songs and storyline gripped Harrison every time.
But, in the context of the woman before him, the reminder of musicals was just nauseating.
Her companion, on the other hand, seemed to have tried to appear somewhat normal, even though his short stature also made Harrison take notice immediately, the young man's observational abilities helping him to guess that the gentleman either had to possess some form of dwarfism or, very possibly, even be some kind of magical-creature half-breed.
Either way, he impressed Harrison with his attempt at normality: he was dressed in a rather fetching tuxedo complete with a walking cane that he didn't seem to need, but, if Harrison had to guess, he would have assumed the man brought it for appearances' sake. As was previously-noted, he was also stout in his features, but he didn't seem to let his small size faze him as there was something about the second figure that made Harrison not only take notice, but advise caution to himself.
Something about this man was giving off an air that made him seem to possess an unyielding spirit, but the gentleman himself also seemed wise beyond his years, merged with an air of danger that even made his short height look anything but hilarious.
'You laugh, you die,' thought Harrison, imagining this was precisely the sort of presence the short man gave to anyone stupid enough to cross him.
Fortunately, Harrison was neither stupid nor in a hurry to cross anyone, especially not since he now had the chance for the answers he'd been waiting for, since the day that letter had come to St Christopher's.
As the man looked at Harrison, seemingly locked in gaze with the young boy as the two of them assessed each other's first impressions, Harrison also noticed the gentleman's eyes widen before, as the man went to speak, Roger suddenly cut him off. "Oh, Harrison: I wondered if you'd be up. It seems you have a visitor…well, two of them: this is a Mrs McGonagall and a…a colleague of hers, Mr Flitwick…"
Not to Harrison's surprise, Roger's expression darkened slightly as he mentioned how Mr Flitwick was a colleague.
Mighty Little Mage
After all, it had been Roger who'd helped send Harrison back to the Millers in the first place, partially for the idea of such wealthy influencers being associated with the home and partially because the Millers had been straight-edged, borderline-Aryan in their looks and ideals.
British, white and proud; sadly, even the fact he was responsible for children didn't stop Roger's somewhat-archaic attitudes towards anyone that wasn't any of these things showing from time to time.
And he really didn't have any kind of tolerance, let alone patience with anyone whom might be handicapped, either physically or mentally, as was evident by how Harrison remembered little Jenny Walker finding out the hard way when she'd asked for help because of how Roger ignored her needs – namely the fact she was in a wheelchair – by putting her in a room on the top floor.
How Roger had gotten away with it, Harrison didn't know, but he had a pretty good idea.
Mighty Little Mage
If he was being honest, Harrison wasn't too surprised to see the care worker tense up around Flitwick, even as he continued, "They say they are here to discuss your enrolment into some private school your birth parents attended."
"Well I hardly thought they were here selling double glazing, Roger," argued Harrison, his sarcastic barb, as well as the aggressive, but cavalier way that he addressed his so-called carer making both Minerva and Filius' eyes widen.
Of course, neither one of them knew that Harrison had never respected Roger because of the role he'd played in Harrison's return to Hell, while, at the same time, his attitude towards his charges had basically told Harrison that he wasn't someone to respect, but, instead, he would do whatever he could to make sure the xenophobic prat was forced to quit and soon.
In the meantime, whilst Roger fumed at the boy's disrespectful tone, Harrison sighed as he said, "But, since they made the effort to come here in person, I suppose I can spare an hour. At least then, my birthday won't have been a complete waste of time...so why don't you both come in?"
With that, Harrison turned and walked back to his window, perching himself on the sill in his preferred position – resting his back against the window frame's edge while he had one leg curled to his chest – while he also watched the two newcomers walk into the room. To his bemusement, he saw the man named Flitwick easily climb onto Harrison's bed while McGonagall remained standing, eyeing Harrison's room with interest and a hint of something akin to surprise, if not pain or disbelief.
Once Roger left – finally, in Harrison's opinion, though he also suspected his chores for the week were about to double, whilst whatever birthday money he was set to receive was about to mysteriously vanish from his card – the young boy looked to McGonagall before he asked, "So, just so we're on the same page, let me check: you would be Deputy Headmistress McGonagall?"
"I am," said Minerva, her Scottish brogue earning her a curious look and a small smirk from Harrison as he listened to her. "And I must admit myself surprised, both by your location and your rather informal, if, I may say, disrespectful response to your letter, Mr Potter."
"Really?" asked Harrison curiously, a look of feigned shock on his face as he drawled, "Personally, I thought it sounded rather witty, not to mention precise. Simple, easy to remember; what better way to communicate with someone who obviously wants to get a laugh out of me?"
Here, Harrison turned his gaze on the elders once more before he drawled, "Ha. Ha. There you go…two laughs."
"Mr Potter!"
"However," continued Harrison, ignoring the disbelieving, as well as rageful look that Minerva gave him, as he lifted a hand before he continued in a softer tone, "If I caused any offence towards you or your colleagues, I apologise. That was not my intention: I simply wished to get your attention as you sought to get mine, so, either way, we won."
"Clever," said Filius, earning a curt nod from Harrison.
"Thank you, sir. Now, since you're both here, I gather you're here to give me the evidence I requested?"
Once again, Minerva blanched at how easily, if not suddenly Harrison's demeanour changed, but while she could only stare in abject disbelief, Filius cleared his throat, drawing Harrison's attention back to him as he asked, "I must say, you're very well-spoken for such a young man, Harry Potter…"
"Harrison," corrected the emerald-eyed youth, earning a curious look from both elders as he explained, "Apologies…again. It's just, ever since I was six, I've always come to hate being called Harry: it makes me sound so common, so meek and so easy to fool. So much so that the boy formerly known as Harry even fooled himself into thinking he could be with a family who loved him for who he was and not what he had…"
Here, Minerva visibly shivered while Filius looked on with renewed interest as well as a small hint of mutual amusement – courtesy of the goblin in him sensing something dangerous, but also humorously-interesting in the young wizard's spirit – when they heard Harrison chuckle to himself before he drawled, "But, in the end, the guilty parties learned that everything has a price…and in the case of betraying my trust and abandoning their true calling, it was a price I graciously accepted, not that anybody else knows that, of course."
"Do you know what? I might be forgiven for thinking that even Severus would both love and hate you, Harrison," retorted Filius, though Harrison seemed to ignore the last part while the goblin teacher went on. "You not only have a strong sense of independent thought; you also do not suffer fools lightly and have a plan in mind for the means to exact revenge without anyone knowing it was you…definitely traits worthy of a Slytherin."
"I'm sorry? Did you say Slither In?" asked Harrison, sounding out the name with a look of disbelief as he asked, "Is that meant to mean something to me, Mr Flitwick? Also, could you not use my first name as though we're casual acquaintances or, dare I say it, friends?"
This time, Harrison himself shuddered, much like anyone who said the name Voldemort might shudder, as he said the last part before, clearing his throat, he continued, "Sorry, but I really find that word a bitter pill to swallow; anyway, we are not…what I said, so if you'd be so kind, Professors, it's Mr Potter or, if you must be formal, you may even call me Master Potter."
"Master?" asked Minerva, earning a shrug from Harry.
"What? That's the typical address for an unmarried, pre-adolescent man in whatever century you're from, right, Countess Crawley?" asked Harrison calmly, though his eyes seemed to have diverted their gaze to the window and the dark view beyond as he continued, "In any case, I think it shows a very bad sense of intimacy when those meant to be teachers are so informal with their students. People might wind up getting the wrong idea, wouldn't you agree, Professors?"
"I…I daresay he makes a good point," replied Filius, clearing his throat before he added, "My apologies, Mr Potter; now, if we might get back to the matter at hand, we are here in response to your letter to prove that you have…magic."
Here, Harrison gestured before he turned when Minerva, drawing her wand, took a breath to calm herself before she exclaimed, "Lumos!"
A white light lit up the end of her wand, but instead of looking impressed, Harrison hummed before he rose from the sill and, walking to a desk next to his bed, he drawled, "Oh, wow, making light; that's real magic…here, I can do that too, watch: Abracadabra!"
With that, he tapped the base of a lamp that was stood next to his bed, causing it to light up before, tapping it twice, Harrison increased the glow while making overdramatic spooky gestures with his hands as he drawled, "Whoo, look, no hands and no strings…what magic is this, ladies and gentlemen? Oh wait…my mistake, it's not magic…it's electricity."
Tapping the lamp once more, Harrison extinguished the light before he turned as he asked, "What else have you got?"
"Wingardium Leviosa," replied Filius, having drawn his own wand before he used it to levitate Harrison's favourite book off its spot on the shelf on the far side of the bedroom.
"That's…pretty impressive," agreed Harrison before he reached into his desk drawer and, pulling out a single piece of paper, he added, "Now watch this as I make this single piece of paper fly in the air: Shazam!"
Here, he blew on the paper, making it hover in the air for as long as he was blowing it up, though he was dimly-aware of Filius chuckling to himself while Minerva seemed to be turning redder and redder with each passing second.
Once Harrison ran out of puff, he drew in a breath before he said, "What? No rapturous applause? Ah well, I guess that wasn't really magic either; a simple biological example of the effects of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the lungs being switched around and expelled in the form of a single, weak breath that caused the thermal updraft against the paper…oh, and served as a reminder for me to brush my teeth, so thanks for that, Professor."
"Fine!" snapped Minerva, deciding she'd already had enough with Harrison mocking her – and considering she'd put up with James Potter's hijinks for seven years and the Weasley Twins for going on three years, that was saying something – before, as Harrison turned to her, he raised a single eyebrow when the woman transformed into the form of her feline Animagus.
"Hmm…" remarked Harrison, clicking his tongue before he drawled, "All right, I admit; that's as good as any sort of extraordinary evidence is going to get today…oh, and you can change back too? Impressive…most impressive."
Minerva did indeed shift back while Harrison was responding to her latest trick.
Once he was done and she was human again, however, the young boy heaved a sigh before he returned to the bedroom window and, perching himself on it again, he clicked his tongue a second time as he looked to the two elders. "All right, consider my attention yours."
"Thank you, Mr Potter," said Filius, earning a curt nod from Harrison as he asked, "Can we be sure you'll listen, though? No more mocking remarks or sarcastic barbs? You'll let us explain everything we can about what we're here for?"
"To quote the Bard," replied Harrison, waving his hand in a dramatic, though encouraging gesture as he told him, "I am tame, sir. Pronounce."
Clearing her throat in a bid to avoid losing her temper again, as she sensed the faintest hint of mockery in his words, Minerva took a breath before she asked, "Well, to fully help you understand what's going to happen, Mr Potter, I have to ask: have you ever made anything happen? Perhaps when your emotions were in a heightened state like being angry or scared?"
However, if Minerva thought Harrison was going to give her a surprised, stuttered answer, she was in for a shock;
"No."
Minerva was speechless.
Filius was surprised.
Harrison was…bored!
"I'm sorry, Professors: I don't understand. Is that meant to be a bad thing?" asked Harrison coolly, turning his eyes away from the two professors while he explained, "Your exclaimed starts suggest I should have somehow used what you call magic for some variety of accidental purposes in my childhood. But, when I say no, you look like I've just declared you both dead on arrival. So, I suppose that begs the question of what's so wrong about not having experienced any bouts of Accidental Magic in the first place, if that's what you'd call it?"
"It…it is," replied Filius, his shock still evident on his face and the air of surprise in his voice as he explained, "As…as you said, Mr Potter, when they're younger, many witches and wizards experience moments of magical outbursts, mainly whenever they are angry or scared. And, if I may be so bold, knowing the magical strength of your parents as we did, both Professor McGonagall and I are surprised to hear you've never had a single outburst. Unless, could it be possible that you blanked it out?"
"Highly improbable," drawled Harry, tapping the side of his head as he explained, "Since you showed me yours, I'll show you mine, sir. For one thing, I have a pretty powerful, eidetic memory, perhaps even on a scale you might call panmnesia: this means I can remember everything about my life; from the day my loving family decided their satisfaction was more important than a child's welfare to the day my foster family learned the hard way not to underestimate me or what I'm capable of. And that didn't require magic, Professors; simple science added to computerised data and a nice little revenge scheme that involved everything they forced me to learn about covering my tracks and technological interfacing."
Minerva looked like a fish out of water while Filius just looked surprised, his eyes as wide as saucers as, although he didn't understand some of those terms, he did understand enough to realise one thing.
Harrison Potter was clever…perhaps even a genius!
Forget Slytherin; Ravenclaws would probably honour and even worship him for generations stretching out forever and a day once he left Hogwarts with the knowledge he had.
His mind must be sharp indeed to have such observational and mnemonic skills, not to mention his surprising way with understanding things that he probably wouldn't have had to learn about until he was well into his teenage, if not adult years. Filius also suspected his siblings in the goblin nation would love Harrison for his keen mind and financial skills, not to mention his intelligence and lack of childish notions when it came to things like wealth, power or even respect.
He was an individual, a solitary icon in a world of cliques and clichés and someone with a very strong sense of independent thought and solitary confinement to the point where there were only three people Harrison would completely trust.
He, himself and his.
Clearing his throat in a bid to try and return himself to the here and now, Filius looked to Harrison before he asked him, "So…do you also remember your toddler years, Mr Potter? Like say…Halloween night, ten years ago?"
"You mean one of the strangest memories I ever had concerning a green flash, a weird, ominous sensation on my forehead and the whispering voice of my Mother telling me to be safe, strong and know that I was loved?" asked Harrison curiously, earning another surprised look from Filius while Minerva's eyes darkened as she too was reminded of that dark night.
Harrison, however, took a breath before he said, "Huh, so you're saying that actually happened? To be honest, I always thought of it as a really weird dream, albeit one I've been having a lot more often lately, but I digress. The point is, I always wondered if it could be real. I mean, a flying motorbike, a giant of a man who looked like something out of Dahl and a green flash that kills on impact…so…that was magic?"
"Y-y-yes," replied Minerva, her voice wavering with fear as she suddenly realised how cold Harrison sounded about that night.
He sounded so cold that it was like he didn't even care his Mother had died that night, let alone what he'd done himself.
Filius, meanwhile, could see the boy's green eyes shining with tears that he flat-out refused to shed, let alone around company, while his right hand was now hidden behind his curled-up leg.
However, in the reflection from the window glass, Filius could see Harrison's hand was clenched into a tight fist and even seemed to be trembling, while his voice seemed to grow colder-still as he addressed the professors again. "I see…and that flash…what was it?"
"It's the magical colour of a curse's magic so powerful, it's known as the Killing Curse," answered Filius, earning a sideways look from Harrison, who didn't seem to want to leave his preferred seat on the window sill whilst his emotions were going to war inside of him.
Giving the boy a curt nod, to show he understood his desire for his own circle of comfort, Filius licked his lips slowly as he explained, "It is cast with a spell so Dark in origin that it is labelled Unforgivable in terms of law and magical class."
"And what, exactly, makes it Dark?" asked Harrison curiously, earning another blanched look from Minerva while Filius' eyes narrowed in genuine interest as Harrison looked back to his own reflection in the glass as he went on, "What I mean is, if you think about it logically, Professors: a spell that kills could be used for good as well as evil; I mean, I assume your world knows what euthanasia is, don't you? Or perhaps the mercy killing of putting a suffering victim out of their misery rather than having to endure pain any further?"
"Mr Potter!" exclaimed Minerva, a note of sheer horror in her words as she asked, "Do you even know what you're saying?"
"Careful, Minerva," whispered Filius, even as Minerva continued.
"That curse murdered your parents; no-one survived it…no-one…"
"Except me, apparently," drawled Harrison, earning a surprised look from Minerva and Filius as he went on. "I told you I remember the green flash and the feeling on my forehead and, between you and me, I always speculated that my scar came from the same place as that odd memory, but I could never prove it. So, this Killing Curse was cast at an innocent baby with about as much threat to anyone as a piece of paper?"
"That…that about sums it up," said Filius, though he was still surprised by Harrison's argument about the nature of Good and Evil as well as the same calm demeanour he spoke with when he talked about something that feared, awed and even confounded many people since that day.
Maybe the Slytherins would love him, if he was so blasé about such topics; he certainly had a tongue worthy of many influencers in the Ministry.
"Well," remarked Harrison, shrugging ruefully as he continued, "I'd think anyone crazy enough to do that without good reason would need a very long stay in a padded cell, if not a premature meeting with the Reaper, although I hope I wouldn't be the one to meet such a figure. After all, I have no desires for revenge and I definitely have no desire to indulge some kind of childish adrenaline-fuelled death wish, so I'll leave the execution of the world's most dangerous to the police."
"Aurors," said Filius.
"Whatever," drawled Harrison, "As long as they're dead and I'm alive, I don't care what name you give the forces that do the deed. So, now we've established ironclad proof, courtesy of my memories and Professor McGonagall's impressive act of shapeshifting, what happens next, Professors?"
"We…that is, if you're certain of accepting your place at Hogwarts," explained Filius, speaking up for both of them since he could see Minerva was still struggling to come to terms with what Harrison said about the one responsible and how he didn't want anything to do with the actual execution himself – again, speaking so callously about it that he might as well have been discussing the weather – while he went on.
"Then our next port of call would be Diagon Alley, where you will be able to retrieve your possessions for school and we will also help you figure out anything else you'd like to know about Hogwarts or magic."
"Then I suggest you and I go to this Dragon Alley place, Professor Flitwick," insisted Harrison, turning to the goblin professor before he took a very deep breath, seemingly using it to dismiss the last of the demons plaguing his emotions as he explained in his usual apathetic manner, "Professor McGonagall looks like she might collapse if I give her any more shocks today, so I think it would suit us all for her to return to the school and you and I will go on our little shopping trip. However, if I might offer one bit of advice, Deputy Headmistress?"
"Y-Y-Yes, Mr Potter?" asked McGonagall shakily.
"I might recommend some soothing herbal tea and scented candles," drawled Harrison, earning a surprised look from Minerva as he told her, "It'll help calm you and keep you centred long enough to deal with the stresses of your job. After all, at your age, you might want to watch that old heart of yours, otherwise you'll also be on your way to a meeting with the Grim One."
While Minerva looked shocked at the boy's generous, yet sarcasm-laced remark, her eyes narrowed as Harrison looked to them both before he continued, "However, let's get one thing perfectly clear here and now. I'm not coming to Hogwarts for the magic, or because of my Mother and Father, because it's physically impossible to want to do anything to make the dead proud or disappoint them."
Filius' eyes widened as he heard this, but Harrison wasn't done, "And I'm not coming to be some kind of guinea pig to figure out how I did what nobody else did or to become part of any clique or pathetic idea of friendship. I'm not even coming for the knowledge I'll gain from your world."
"Then…why are you coming, Mr Potter?" asked Minerva curiously, earning a cold, un-caring smile from Harrison that didn't even look like he was joking around.
Instead, it looked more like the smile of a shark smelling blood in the water, especially when his green eyes also shone with the look as he answered the Deputy.
"I'm coming to Hogwarts because, in all honesty, I'm bored!"
Chapter 2 and it looks like Harrison has made a bit of an impact on his future mentors, which kind of makes you wonder how he'll deal with those who will flat-out ignore his 'suggestion' and look at Harrison Potter and see James, doesn't it?
Also, now Harrison seems to have found out the dark truth about something he thought of as a dream, you have to wonder: how is it he has never had any bouts of Accidental Magic, let alone anything to suggest any sort of power outside of his mind's strength?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Harrison goes to Diagon Alley and acquires some interesting tools for the future, whilst he also makes a dangerous move against the sort of people you don't want to cross, unless you do have a death wish;
Please Read and Review
AN: Portrayal
Roger Bailey: Mitch Pileggi
AN2: Poll
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