Not My Magical World

Chapter 2

Callisto opened her eyes, starting as she found herself staring at an unfamiliar view. Sitting upright, she discovered she was in the center of a four-poster bed.

She sniffed the air, and unfamiliar scents assaulted her, "No one I know is nearby and an unknown owns this place."

She shifted, and dark blue blankets fell off her, revealing a white tank top and grey sweatpants, clothes she knew she didn't have on the last time she was conscious.

Flipping out of bed with feline grace, she landed on the hardwood floor in a crouch with a soft thump. Standing up straight, she eyed the room she was in, finding a dresser directly in front of her. A red high-back chair sat beside a window to her left.

Moving over to the window, she stared at an unfamiliar forest, "Where am I?" Moving to the dresser in front of the bed, she pulled it open. She found it half full of male clothes, and there were also feminine clothes in her size, "That's kind of creepy."

She moved to the nightstand and pulled the drawer open but found it empty. Sitting on the side of the bed, she crossed her ankles and thought over her situation. "Alright, I'm in unfamiliar places, with clothes my size," she ran her hands down her body, "I don't seem to be hurt."

Returning to the dresser, she grabbed a red hoodie, a pair of jeans, and the rest of the clothes provided before moving to the four-poster bed and pulling the curtains.

Ten minutes later, she was dressed in her new clothes and made her way to the door. Stopping before the door, she knelt and placed her hand on the ground. Allowing her eyes to drift closed, she stilled.

In her mind, ripples spread out from her fingertips, scanning the room and beyond the door.

'No listening devices or cameras. Either the person who owns this place is very confident or doesn't need them.'

–XX –

Exiting the room, she stepped into a kitchen. To her left was a door leading outside, and to her right was a white fridge. A white oven with black burners sat in the center of the room, with a bar built around it.

Moving forward, her hand drifted to a butcher's block sitting on the counter in the center of the room. She wrapped her hand around one of the black plastic handles and slowly pulled it free, her blue eye flicking from side to side.

Knife in hand, she grabbed the towel draped over the sink and wrapped it around the blade before tucking it into the front of her sweatshirt.

Glancing at the door, she stepped toward it only to jump back as a bright flash appeared on the other side of the counter. Spinning to face it, she slipped her hand into her sweatshirt and pulled the blade, flicking the towel off with a practiced movement.

A twenty-four-year-old male stood before her. He was 5'11" tall, with a square-jawed face, Emerald eyes, and Brown hair. He was dressed in a red plaid shirt, a Brown leather jacket with a white wool lining, and jeans. Well-worn Brown boots covered his feet.

In his hands was a Styrofoam cup holder with two steaming cups.

His eyes widened as he caught sight of her before a smile stretched across his face, "Good, you're awake," he raised the cups, "coffee?"

In answer, Callisto raised the knife, pointing it at his face, "Who are you, and where am I?"

Unconcerned with the knife in his face, the stranger placed the coffee down and gestured to a sitting room.

Callisto stared at him as he moved over and sat on a well-worn gray couch.

Tightening her grip around the handle of her knife, Callisto moved forward, her blue eyes never leaving the teleporter. Sitting in a dark blue chair, she dangled the hand holding a knife over the arm, "So, who are you? Where am I?"

"First of all, my name is Harry Potter," the now-named Harry curled his fingers, pulling the coffee through the air to settle on a small round table between them. "As for where we are, we are near Adirondack Park in a cabin owned by a friend of mine."

Leaning forward, Harry grabbed a cup of coffee and took a sip. He stared at her over the lid, waiting for her next question.

Callisto grabbed the remaining coffee cup, never taking her eye off Harry. Okay, Harry, how did I get here? The last thing I remember was fighting."

Masque betrayed you in your battle with Carver, using a sedative given to him by the people that captured you.

Callisto tensed, the blade in her hand moving ever so slightly, "And how do you know that?"

Harry raised his shoulders in a shrug, "That's easy. I read your mind; I had to make sure you weren't some psycho before I rescued you," he glanced off to the side, "come to think of it, I probably shouldn't have rescued Carver."

Callisto took a sip of the coffee, letting her enhanced senses decipher the ingredients. Finding nothing that wasn't supposed to be there, she took another sip. "You said I was captured, by who, and why would you rescue me?"

Harry tapped his temple, "I felt your mental anguish at being betrayed. I followed it to a group of four individuals looking for particular mutants to create a particular version of the mutant growth hormone to enhance the military's abilities."

Sitting his empty coffee cup down, Harry Interlaced his fingers before continuing, "Once I arrived there, I dealt with three of the four individuals, sent Carver back to the tunnels, and brought you here."

Callisto's eyes narrowed, "Why would you bring me here?"

"Honestly, I had no idea what to do with you; I'm just glad my friend's wife's clothes fit."

"So, what now?"

"That's up to you, but I want you to let me heal your eye."

Callisto's hand drifted to her eye. She'd lost it shortly after discovering her mutant abilities and took it as a sign of leaving her old life behind, "Why?"

"It's a distinguishing feature. If I heal your eye and you grow your hair out, you could blend in more."

"I don't want to blend in!" Callisto snapped, "I will not hide what I am."

Harry cocked his head to the side, "how does fixing your eye equate to you hiding? Even if it was, if you are less noticeable and stay out of sight, you can help more mutants, especially with your abilities. Plus, I imagine improved depth perception would be helpful."

Callisto shook her head, "Even if you fixed my eye and removed the scars, I'm too well known to the government. They would be on the lookout for me."

Harry glanced up at the ceiling, looking through some of the memories he had taken from Andromeda, "There is a place where I can get you a new identity."

"Why would you do something like that for me?"

Images of running through a forest and arrows whizzing by his ears while the heat of flames warmed his back flashed through Harry's mind, "I have helped people escape unjust persecution for as long as I can remember, and from what I've seen from your memories, you offer a home to mutants who would otherwise have no place to go."

He leaned forward, staring into her eyes, "So, what do you say?"

–XX –

An hour later, they walked along the busy New York streets, cars and taxicabs zooming by on the road while people jostled one another on the sidewalk.

Callisto moved beside Harry, running her hand down her face over her healed right eye and cheek.

"You may want to stop doing that," Harry murmured, "people may stare."

With effort, Callisto moved her hand into the pocket of her sweatshirt. "So, you know a lot about me, but I don't know anything about you. You mentioned before that you've helped people start new lives; what did you mean by that."

Harry's eyes flashed a pale purple as he directed people's attention elsewhere. Callisto watched people's eyes slide away from them and begin moving around them without touching them.

"My parents helped mutants find a safe place for as long as I can remember. To ensure I was always ready to defend myself, they taught me particular skills I never thought I would have to use, but apparently, life had other plans."

Callisto stared at him, "That was vague and informative," she said dryly. Her gaze flicked over the buildings that seemed to become more worn with each step, "Where is this mutant haven?"

Harry glanced over boarded-up windows and graffiti-covered buildings. People in warm clothes stared at them with hungry eyes from the mouths of alleys.

Roofs of buildings collapsed, sending dust clouds into the sky and opening their interiors to the elements.

"Far from here."

Catching the eyes on them, Callisto slipped her hand into her sweatshirt, gripping the handle of her knife, "Are you sure we're heading in the right direction?"

"Definitely."

Entering the mouth of an alley, Harry stepped forward, a flame appearing above his pointer finger. Following Andromeda's memories, he drew a door onto the back wall.

Filth bubbled as a black line appeared in the wake of Harry's flame on the brick surface.

"What are you doing?"

"Just watch."

As he finished the doorknob, he drew his hand back before reaching forward; the wall rippled as an iron doorknob came out of the wall. With a twist of the knob, ripples of force came from the door, and the world seemed to spin.

When it stopped, they were at the beginning of the street again, but the view had changed.

Callisto's eyes widened as Harry gestured forward, "Welcome to Mirage Alley."

They stood at the mouth of the street. Single-story brick buildings with large glass windows in the front stretched out before them. Farther down the alley, the buildings became taller, going from a single story to two.

Those buildings eventually became three and stretched higher as you journeyed further. People filled the streets, going from building to building, with shopping bags, briefcases, or tools for a variety of jobs in their hands.

She glanced at Harry, "How is this possible?"

From what I've learned, the doorway I used overlapped this part of the city with a pocket dimension, giving us temporary access.

Andromeda didn't know much about this particular space, having visited other such places around the city, but upon her first visit to one, she was given a paper with the ways to access the others."

Callisto moved over to Harry, "Where are we going?"

"Gnome and sons."

"Gnome and sons," Callisto repeated.

"Yeah, they work with integrating new magicals into society, so this," he gestured around him, "isn't discovered."

"Did you use them?"

"No, I only found out about them recently."

"But you trust them."

Harry glanced at her, taking note of the tension in her shoulders, "They're a business; I doubt they'd screw you over; they wouldn't stay in business long if they did, especially in such an insulated world, but I will be scanning their minds before we talk with them and I'll make them forget they ever did business with you."

"Why?"

"It's what I've done for as long as I can remember; I don't know what else to do with myself."

"So, you will move on to the next mutant after me?"

Harry shook his head, "It's not going to be that easy. mutants here are too divided."

Callisto took note of the words, mutants here, but didn't say anything.

They fell silent after that, and Harry glanced around the alley, taking note of an apothecary and an investment firm. 'I'll have to come back here later; those could prove useful.'

"Here it is," Callisto said, bringing Harry out of his thoughts.

They stopped before a three-story building; a pole jutted from its brick surface. Dangling from the pole was a wooden sign with Gnome and Sons burned into it.

Stepping forward, Harry pushed one of the glass double doors open. Stepping back, he tucked one arm over his stomach and smiled, "After you."

–XX –

As they entered the lobby, their footsteps echoed as they made their way across the white tile floor. Harry cleared his throat as they stopped before a desk in the center of the space.

A woman, 5'4" tall, slender, with a small bust, pale blonde hair, and light, almost clear blue eyes, sat behind the desk, dressed in a dark blue business suit. Her pale pink lips pressed into a thin line as she took in the two of them, "How may I help you today, sir, ma'am?"

While Harry talked to the woman, Callisto looked around the space. They were in a large room, and the secretaries desk sat in the center with a black rug leading up to it.

Three doors surrounded the walls on either side of the woman's desk, leading to a pair of elevators.

Harry smiled at the woman, glancing at the nameplate on her desk, "Hello, Penelope, my friend and I are here to see Mr. Newman."

Penelope glanced down at her papers, "Name?"

"Harry Potter and Callisto Jones."

Slender fingers danced across a stack of papers before finding one; pulling it out, Penelope looked it over, "Here you are, Mr. Potter, Ms. Jones," a small smile spread across her face, and approval shone in her pale blue eyes, "your early, good. Mr. Newman's office is on the second floor, door sixteen."

Nodding, the two made their way across the lobby toward the bronze-colored doors of the elevator. Callisto leaned against the railing wrapping around its interior as they stepped inside and looked at Harry, "Jones?"

"You had to have a last name, and for whatever reason, you're keeping your former identity hidden so deep within your mind no telepath could find it."

Callisto raised her hand to her face, feeling the smooth skin beneath her right eye, "My injury may be healed, but I am no longer that woman."

"Fair enough, but you should know the guy we're going to see can track down your original identity; he's going to have to do so to wipe your record clean."

"Good," then Callisto, she paused at the next part, "Jones can become who I am now."

The elevator slid to a stop with a slight jolt, and the doors opened smoothly, revealing a short hallway with three doors on either side. Each entry held a pane of frosted glass with a polished number in the center.

Callisto stepped onto the linoleum floor and gave it a hard stomp, "You know this is more modern than I expected."

Harry's lips curled, "And what were you expecting?"

Callisto glanced at the fluorescent lights stretched across the roof, hidden by a rectangular pane of glass, "I don't know," she flicked her hands up towards the ceiling, "something that violated the laws of physics."

"Not that long ago, you saw an entire street transform," Harry began dryly, "and you're disappointed the construction isn't magical enough," he shook his head.

They moved down the hallway, eyes flicking from door to door as they took in each number, "What can I say? Disney left an impression on me."

They stopped before a door at the far end of the hallway, and Callisto glanced back, "Do you think it's significant that his office is at the end of the hallway?"

"I don't know; I hope not because his services would be more expensive." Harry knocked on the door, careful not to hit the glass in its center.

"Come in," a quiet voice called.

Glancing at each other, Harry and Callisto nodded before Harry grabbed the polished golden doorknob and twisted it.

–XX –

They entered a medium-sized office. A desk sat in the center of the room in front of a large window. Bookshelves lined the walls around the desk. High-back leather chairs sat in a circle around the small table before a fireplace and a small bar with a variety of alcohol set beside the door.

Behind the desk sat the oddest humanoid Callisto had ever seen. He was 3'4" tall with bright green eyes and blonde hair combed to one side. Small hands blurred before him as he signed paperwork at a glance.

As they entered, he glanced at a clock on the corner of his desk, "Good," he said in a high-pitched voice, "you're early."

Harry stepped forward, "Hello, Mr. Newman…."

The man cut him off with a raised hand, "Call me Norman."

Harry cleared his throat, "Hello, Norman, my name is Harry Potter," he gestured to Callisto, "and this is Callisto Cassandra Jones."

Norman shook his head. "That is not her name, but it will suffice for this meeting." He crossed his arms on the desk and leaned forward. "What can I do for you today?"

"I would like Callisto's records cleaned," Harry began, "and to establish records for myself."

Norman gestured to two chairs before his desk, "Sit, and we will discuss this."

Once they were both seated, he glanced between them before his gaze settled on Harry, "you have no records at all, which leads me to believe that you are a dimensional traveler. It also raises the question of how you know about my services."

Harry tensed as Norman spoke, a pale purple glow filling his pupils.

Norman raised his hands placatingly, "Calm down, calm down. I'm just telling you what I see."

Harry forced himself to relax in his chair, but the glow in his eyes did not diminish, "Right, so will you help us?"

"Wait a minute, wait a minute wait a minute," Callisto said, standing to her feet, "I do not understand what is going on at all."

"I woke up this morning in a strange place, with the last thing I remember being my closest friends betraying me. Some stranger," she gestured to Harry, "gives me coffee and then brings me to a magical alley. Now you're talking about cleaning and creating records."

"How is that possible?"

Norman looked at Harry, "You didn't explain anything."

"She was betrayed by her closest friends and unconscious for three months…."

"Three months," Callisto exclaimed, rounding on Harry, "why didn't you tell me?"

"When we first met, you pulled a knife on me, and I thought getting the relevant information out of the way first was better. Given your situation, I didn't think how long you had been unconscious would be important." He turned back to Norman, "they were using her blood to create drugs. I got your name and private occupation from a disgraced pureblood's mind."

Norman nodded, gesturing to Callisto's seat, "Please sit down."

"In the magical world, most human magic users are descended from a race called the blood, a sub-race of humanity that is longer lived than normal humans and can manipulate the natural rivers of magic throughout the universe without calling upon an outside source. Another aspect of the blood is that they each have a unique ability." He looked at Callisto, "not unlike mutants."

"Other humanoids are descended from gods of Otherworld…."

Callisto and Norman looked at Harry as he flinched.

"Sorry," he said with a smile while rubbing his leg, "cramp."

Callisto turned back to Norman, "But you are not human, are you?"

Norman shook his head, "No, most of the people in this office and I are gnomes. Most of the magical species in this world integrated from other realms before the sorcerer supreme set up his barrier eons ago," he shook his head, "but we're getting off topic."

"Over time, magic changed the species on earth that could use it, and we each developed a unique talent. Mine is to remember and manipulate records; I can remember and manipulate anything written or recorded, no matter the distance. Most of the time, I use this for accounting purposes, but every once in a while, someone not from around here arrives on earth and needs an identity, or someone wrongly accused will need help setting things right, so I use my ability to do that."

He focused on Callisto, "Now, while I normally wouldn't help you given your criminal activities…" Callisto opened her mouth, but Norman raised a hand forestalling her response. "I am inclined to do so today given the persecution your species suffer at the hands of humans," his eyes narrowed, "but if you get yourself into trouble again, I will not wipe the slate clean."

Callisto closed her mouth. While she wanted to defend her actions, she didn't think it would help her case. A part of her didn't want to leave the life of a Morlock behind. However, she knew with the recent betrayal, it would be unsafe for her to return to the tunnels, and maybe she could do more good outside the underground.

Eventually, she nodded, "Fine."

Nodding, Norman opened his desk drawer and pulled out a crystal ball and a small pillow. He placed the cushion on his desk before setting the crystal ball on top of it.

Callisto raised an eyebrow, "A crystal ball, really?"

Norman shrugged, "It channels my power better than anything else." Placing his hands on either side of the ball, he closed his eyes.

A dim light began to build within the orb, and as Callisto watched, papers, video imaging, photos, and what looked like computer files appeared around the light. Slowly, they shimmered, some changing subtly, others looking entirely different, and more disappearing altogether.

Norman locked eyes with her, "I take it Callisto Cassandra Jones will be your new name."

Callisto didn't like having a full name. She had been Callisto for so long that she had nearly forgotten her actual name, but knew in certain circumstances she would need one, "That's fine."

"Done," Norman withdrew his hands from the crystal orb. "All records of you have been altered or cleaned," he leaned back in his chair, "I can't do anything about memories, though."

Harry cleared his throat, "I'll take care of that once I get some supplies."

Norman looked intrigued but didn't say anything, "For her," he gestured to Callisto, "it will be 50,000. For you, it will be sixty and require some work."

Callisto choked at the price tag, but Harry nodded, wincing internally since that would take most of the money he stole from Andromeda and her people. 'I shouldn't have given Andromeda that stack of cash, me and my bleeding heart.'

"What do you need from me?"

Norman pulled out another drawer on his desk, and Harry raised an eyebrow as the drawer extended farther than it should have. With a click, the drawer came loose, and Norman grunted as he lifted it onto his desk.

The drawer was a good 25 feet long and packed with paper.

"I need you to fill all of these out. It's not everything a person would fill out in their lives, but it will give me a base to work from."

Harry glanced from Norman to the drawer and back again before sighing, "Do you have a table I could use?"