Magister Potter

Disclaimer: /I do not own Harry Potter (and in turn own JK Rowling), nor do I own Negima (and in turn Ken Akamatsu)./

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Magical folk in Wales were somewhat different than those in britain and the rest of Wizarding Europe. For one, many used staffs rather than wands. Another might be that they mingled with muggles who see them as a sort of modern mystics who stuck to an old pagan religion. The muggles here were predominantly christian, but welcomed these people into their community, and in return found that they had prospered. Another difference was that they [magical folk] had incorporated technology into their lives. The average wizard here had at least a laptop with him, enchanted and enhanced with mystical additions. Perhaps the most mind-boggling difference is that some muggles are taught how to use magic. This is not a known fact amongst the wizarding communities within Magical Europe. The first two facts of mingling with non-magic folk and using and/or learning their ways are enough to turn the head of most wizards and witches.

In other rather obscure parts of the world rarely bothered to be mentioned by the Magical World, existed an ancient branch of of wizards who wielded no great internal magic of their own, instead taking Mother Nature's own divine and subtle external forces and channeling them through themselves to match the warlocks of Europe, Africa, and Asia. The most prominent of these pagans were known as Magisters, powerful and respected magicians who are sworn to protect and help the world until the end of their lives. Their title of Magister combines the words Magic and Minister, to that of Minister of Magic; much to the the gnashing of teeth of the Ministry.

Various schools and academies dotted those areas, each headed by a Magus, a magician selected for their age, accomplishments, and wisdom over the course of their lives. Upon taking up the mantle of headmaster, they shed their original names and the school itself would bond with them. Each of these schools were the center of the small hidden cities in the obscure parts of the world, each town or city holding as many as two hundred thousand at the most. Many of those citizens were muggles, the minority the friendly magical folk who married and mingled with their neighbors.

If any haughty, ancient, arrogant Pureblood from mainland Europe was ever asked about them, they would give you an evil-eye and scowl. Only the wealthiest and most ancient pureblood lines knew of the Magi, pagans who held the might of magic around them. Their consortion with muggles aside, they too would send their children to their schools, but if it were not for the fact muggles also attended the schools to learn and use magic...Gods forbid if their pureblood child was contaminated!

Wale's Merdiana Magic Academy was built sometime within the late twelve-hundreds during a minor conflict between the primary magic users and the offshoots who now live on Earth. Approxmiately seven hundred live within the misty hills of Wales, many of them magic-wielding muggles and a sprinkling of mages for flavor. The school itself had an entire side of a hill to itself, with many towers and buildings overlooking the sea of clouds below. The school's artitechiure was slightly gothic and church-like, it even had a massive cathedral that served as a main hall. Dozens of gardens, spires, bridges and arches, dormatories and courtyards were scattered about throughout the complex. Over two hundred were students from ages six to ten, eleven to seventeen. Elderly men smoked pipes and spoke in undertone about philosophies and the weather. Couple strolled through the white and majestic halls, hand in hand. Chidlren of all sizes, shape, and taste swarmed with books and training wands in hand.

All greeted their Magus with a shout, a handshake, or a smile.

The Magus seemed to move through the endless hallways and cooridors, courtyards and bridges to his rooms within the Northern Central Towers. Setting down his sleeping charge onto a prepared crib, he clambered to a handsome dark oak desk and touched a gnarled old hand to a phone set, "Mr. Takahata. This is Merdiana, bring Stan with you, I have job for you two."

Quietly, he waited, his old gray eyes flicking to little baby Harry's sleeping form every now and then as he doodled on some rather unimportant paperwork.

Answering a knock with a call to come in, he settled down as smiled openly to the two friends who had entered.

An old Magister Magi with a small ancient gnarled redwood staff with a long bent nose in shorts and hawaiian vacation clothes grumbled under his breath as he ploped down into a chair, "I hope you have a good reason for calling me away from Hawaii." Stan was a small man, wrinkled with age and years of cynicalism. Under his bright pale blue eyes was a shock of a wild white moustahce and beard.

"Headmaster," greeted the young man in the suit, his face stressed, hair gelled back, and his chin with unshaved stubble, "You called?"

"Indeed I did Takamichi," nodding the Magus motioned for him to take a seat next to Stan. As soon as they were seated, the Magus finally spoke, "I'll get straight to the point. You've heard of the downfall of the wizard 'Lord Voldemort'?"

Stan stiffened and sent the Magus a calculating glare, "What of him? We don't usually deal with Wizarding Matters. Those wand waver's problems don't concern us."

"They would if we had an obligation to them," interjected Takamichi, "We've been helping some technophobic locals in Hawaii, so forgive us if we aren't up to date on the events. When and how did Voldemort get defeated?"

"The answer lies on a crib in the next room," replied the Magus tiredly. He simply nodded his head in the direction of the next room. Looking utterly perplexed and confused, the two summoned went inside and came back.

"Theres a baby inside the crib," growled Stan unimpressed, "What about the kid?"

"Thats the boy who defeated Voldemort," replied the Magus, who seemed to have expected this reaction from the short wizard, "Harry James Potter was the only survivor of the attack. His parents, our allies James and Lily Potter were killed by the Killing Curse."

"Sir," said Takamichi haltingly, "Surely you don't mean Voldemort casted the Avada Kedavra on that child and...?"

"Oh hold that load of bull-crockery!" roared the magister, "No way a kid would be able to deflect a Killing Curse and simultaneously survive it!"

"That is what happened," replied the Magus with conviction, "Voldemort attacked the Potters because of a Prophecy. The same Prophecy stated that young Harry here will be the one to defeat Voldemort. He has, and done it. Albus Dumbledore took it upon himself to put the boy within his relatives, only at my intervention did he follow the Will to the letter. The prophesy, however, has not been completed. It is possible that some form of Voldemort has survived the Killing Curse that had rebounded upon him."

"I thought the Fidelus Charm was impossible to break?" piped up Stan irritably, "Unless that Black character gave it up?"

"I doubt it," sighed Takamichi, "Black would never betray the Potters."

"So why are we here, Magus?" asked Stan still more irritated, "You have the boy, where do we come in?"

The Magus seemed to brace himself for something. After a moments silence he spoke, "I want you and Takamichi to take care of-"

"NO. I will not do any of the sort," shouted the magister waving his arms in the air, "No way! Never! Ever ever ever!!"

"It is just for a short period of time," pleaded the Magus calmly, "Just for a few months until I find a proper guardian!"

"The answer is no," growled Stan with a note of finality, "Give the task to Takamichi. The kid can handle the little monster soiling itself and screaming itself hoarse."

"You liked Negi well enough."

"What d'you say?"

Takamichi gave an unconvincing expression of innocence, complete with whistling. He smiled openly to the headmaster, "I'm sure I can handle this, sir. How hard could it possibly be?"

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Three and a half weeks later he would be eating those words.

Sorry for the short chapter fellow readers, but this is just a sign this fic isn't going to die just yet! More work shall be made in the following February. That is, if college life does not interfere!