I don't own Harry Potter or X-Men.
DZ2's Weather Wizard Challenge.
Plot: When the stormclouds gathered before the Dementors' arrival, it wasn't the Dementors making it happen: it was Harry!
Harry James Potter swayed back and forth, the rusty chains of the swing set creaking ominously in the night.
If someone where to look at his face, they'd probably say he was lost in thought. But if they were able to see into his mind itself, they'd see that he was actually so lost that it was like he had gotten turned around in the woods and somehow ended up in the middle of the Arctic.
The topic that he was so lost in, was both a simple one, and the most complicated topic he'd ever imagined.
War… Or more specifically, the lack of war.
The Dark Lord Voldemort had returned at the end of last year, and even though the Ministry's official stance was 'Deny, Deny, Deny', there was a surprising lack of anything in either the Muggle or Magical news. The Magical news was overrun with a smear campaign against both Harry and Albus Dumbledore, while the Muggle news was finding itself so out of interesting news that they're covering old ladies who named their cats after the seven dwarves.
It was almost like Voldemort was in hiding. Which honestly, Harry could understand, it made some kind of sense to stay under the radar for as long as one could while everyone else covered their ears in denial. If Harry wasn't so certain that Fudge was just so stupid and cowardly, then he'd be suspicious that the man was on Voldemort's side.
The sound of thunder pulled his mind back to the present, making him glance up into the sky to eye the black clouds he could see approaching in the distance. He needed to leave now, if he didn't beat Dudley back to Privet Drive then Vernon would probably lock him out all night again. And unfortunately, the brewing thunderstorm would only make his obese cousin waddle home faster, lessening the amount of time Harry had to get back.
Standing and letting his feet walk a familiar path on their own, Harry's mind faded into the background again as he returned to his thoughts.
And thinking about taking sides during this war. What side was Dumbledore on exactly? Harry had long since accepted that when Voldemort returned, (When, not if), that he'd be a 'high-profile' target considering the Dark Lord's obsession with him. Harry himself had also been the one 'lucky' enough to take part in the ritual that resurrected Voldemort. And not only that, but Harry had fought the Dark Lord and won four times.
And yet where was Harry? Where was the only person other than Dumbledore to fight Voldemort and win? He was stuck in Privet Drive with his abusive 'family', while his best friends acted like he didn't exist!
Well screw them, he decided. If they were going to treat him like this then he could return the favour.
Ron was already on Harry's shit list, after almost getting him killed by a nesting bloody dragon over sheer jealousy, there was no way that Harry was going to forgive or trust him ever again.
And while Harry had originally trusted Hermione with everything, that she refused to respond to his begging wasn't sitting well with him. She didn't even answer his questions about homework, instead choosing to owl-nap his familiar when he sent Hedwig for news. Admittedly, if she apologized and had a good enough reason then he would forgive her in the snap of his fingers, but that still wouldn't bring back his trust in her.
A rolling crash above his head made Harry start violently, hands raising to shield himself even as he flinched away from the thunder roaring through the sky. Shaking off the nervousness that gripped his stomach, Harry glanced up at the black storm clouds, faltering slightly as he realised they were above his head already. Licking his lips nervously at the sight, Harry started walking faster, part of him wondering if there was a magic reason behind the storm.
Cutting down the alleyway between Magnolia and Wisteria, a wisp of icy-white mist erupting from his mouth made him freeze. Exhaling slowly again and watching as his breath iced over, Harry raised his hands to pat at flushed cheeks and rub over warm arms.
Why was his breath icing over when he was so warm? Despite his cold breath, Harry himself wasn't at all cold, feeling rather toasty dressed in jeans and a t-shirt. Raising a hand to his boiling forehead, Harry frowned, wondering if his body temperature was just the result of the fever that he might have. Not wanting to be locked out all night if he had a fever, Harry started down the alleyway, only making it halfway before the street lamps on either side of the alley suddenly went dead.
Shifting slowly on his feet, Harry's hand crept towards his back pocket, suspicion and nervousness flooding him as he caught sight of the street lamps down the street flickering on and off as if in response to magic. A faint cracking sound echoed from near his feet, making him glance down quickly as he lifted his foot, his eyebrows furrowing in confusion as he saw the sheen of broken ice where he'd been standing. Setting his foot back down, Harry watched in growing shock as the ice was instantly mended, two circles of ice slowly spreading out from his frozen sneakers.
It was him? He was the source of the magic? Could it be his magical majority? Sirius had explained that to him, that around his sixteenth birthday he'd start experiencing fluctuations in his magic as it grew in preparation for his coming of age.
No, it couldn't be. He was fifteen. And as different as Harry bloody Potter always was, there was no way that he could possibly be going through his magical majority an entire year too early.
Thunder made Harry freeze, glancing up to where he could see the black clouds, swirling around straight above his head. As the wind picked up, whipping at Harry's hair and clothes, he watched as lightning arced between the clouds. Something was definitely wrong, Harry had neither the knowledge nor the power required to create a storm like this. And no matter what was happening to his magic, he knew that the alien presence he could somehow sense within the storm wasn't related to him at all.
Footsteps made him stiffen, his hand snapping back to draw his wand, holding it against his leg as he turned to face the source of the footsteps. Moments later, the shambling hulking silhouette of his cousin appeared at the mouth of the alley as the teenager started down it, his attention completely occupied by the bar of chocolate he was gnawing on.
Something tickling his ankle made him glance down to see the ice coating his sneakers was slowly spreading up his foot. "What are you doing here Freak?" his cousin's voice demanded, making him slowly glance back up to watch Dudley who was watching him - and his wand - with fear even as he continued eating.
"Hey Big D" Harry began slowly, not going to lay down and let his cousin walk all over him when he was in this mood. "Beat up another ten-year old?"
"This one deserved it" Dudley spat, coming to a stop just outside arm's reach from Harry. "He cheeked me, he did".
"Really?" Harry drawled slowly, faking surprise. "Did he say you looked like a pig that's been taught to walk? Cause that's not cheek, oh Duddykins, that's true" he taunted innocently.
Satisfaction flooded Harry as he caught the way his cousin's fleshy jaw twitched and his face flushed in anger. While he could raise his wand and hex his cousin, he could always relieve his stress by insulting Dudley since the fat boy was too slow to catch the youngest Seeker in a century.
"Think you're a big man carrying that thing do you?" Dudley sneered, raising his hand to gesture at Harry's wand even as he snapped it up at the first sign of movement. "Don't have the guts to take me on without it do you?"
"As opposed to you" Harry countered, lowering his wand to gesture at Dudley's stomach with it, "You're pretty much all gut aren't you?"
"At least I'm not afraid of my pillow" Dudley began, an explosion of glass behind him making him squeal like a pig and cower as Harry's wand moved to aim at the shattered lamppost. "You're- you're not allowed to do that out of that Freak school you go to" he stuttered out nervously.
"That wasn't me" Harry corrected slowly, figuring he should at least warn his cousin, even if he only does it once. "We're not alone. I can feel the magic behind the storm, someone conjured it" he explained, ignoring his cousin's whimper at the word 'magic'.
"You know what Dudley" he ground out coldly, "You call me a Freak. And yet you're the one whose a fat, lazy, good-for-nothing loser that's never going to move out of his parent's place" he spat. "So while you're stuck selling drugs and beating up children in ten years time, I want you to remember that this Freak has been famous since he was fifteen months old, and has so much money that he'll never have to work a day in his life".
Easily sidestepping his cousin as Dudley let out a roar of anger and charged at him, Harry raised his wand to warn off the fat boy, pausing as something white drifting down in front of his face caught his attention. Blinking at confusion at the small white thing dancing across the air, Harry glanced up at his cousin who was captivated by a second feather-like object, both of them staring at each other for a moment before tilting their heads up to the sky.
The storm was gone…there was no more thunder, no more black clouds.
There was just howling winds and a flurry of snow.
"There's no way I could do this" Harry exhaled, more for his own benefit than for Dudley's as they both watched the blizzard raging above Surrey during the middle of a British Summer.
Dudley let out another whimper and Harry followed his line of sight, a whimper of his own slipping past his lips as he watched the actual wall of snow moving towards them. "Dudley… Dudley run!" Harry ordered, darting forward to grab his cousin's arm, trying to pull the shocked boy away from the snow and towards Privet Drive so they weren't stuck outside when the storm hit.
Looking over his cousin's shoulder, Harry felt a fear that he hadn't felt before latching onto his chest at the sight of two dementors racing the snowstorm to reach them. "DUDLEY MOVE!" he screamed, raising his wand and jabbing it into the fat of Dudley's side, causing his cousin to let out a startled roar and start swinging at him. Jumping back, Harry let the enraged Dudley down the alleyway, keeping an eye on the rapidly approaching dementors.
They wouldn't be able to outrun them. He'd have to stop and hit them with a Patronus just to give Dudley a chance to get behind the 'blood wards' that were supposed to be protecting #4 Privet Drive. Would the blood wards work though? According to Dumbledore they're supposed to protect him from Death Eaters and Voldemort, would they even make two dementors pause before moving on to suck out their souls? What the hell were two dementors doing in Little Whinging anyway? And how did they create a bloody blizzard?
A loud humming filled the air and Harry looked forward, seeing something large and invisible flying above the street, only the snow he could see giving way for it revealing it was even there. Harry skidded to a halt as the thing appeared with a shimmer, revealing a huge sleek jet hovering in the middle of the street. Dudley shot past him and tripped, sliding through the snow as the jet landed and a ramp descended right in front of his face, causing the boy to faint face-first onto the concrete.
His instincts screaming at him made him spin around, his wand raising automatically as the dementor burst through the mouth of the alleyway and dove for him. Only for a beam of red energy to fire straight over his shoulder to hit the dark creature in the chest. Jaw dropping as he watched the dementor go flying, Harry watched as another continuous beam of light struck the it, the black wraith letting out a pain filled shriek before exploding into black particles.
A hand grabbing his shoulder made him jump, whipping around to see a tall brown-haired man trying to pull him back towards the jet, a hand resting on the strange red glasses on his face. Moving obediently, Harry stumbled towards the jet where two women were waiting for him, one with brilliant red hair and the other with almost ethereal white hair.
"Harry you need to promise me you'll relax" the red-head blurted, grabbing his arm and pulling him over without hesitation, both women placing a hand on his cheek before doing the same to the other. "You're very powerful Harry" she continued as he watched the white-haired woman's eyes going pure white, "But you're emotional right now and your powers are reacting to that and manifesting".
As a soothing wave rolled through his body, Harry felt tension he didn't know he felt washing out after it. "Harry… we're here to help" the white-haired woman whispered, "Just relax. Release the blizzard, let me help you".
He felt something nudging its way through his mind, but before he could rise up to try push it out, another calming wave surged through his body and he just went limp and let it do what it wanted. Absently hearing the buzzing sound of that red spell blasting away behind him, something redirected his thoughts back to the blizzard, back to the rolling mass of power he could almost feel beneath his skin.
"It's okay… you're okay… nothing is going to hurt you now" the red-head's voice whispered, "Go to sleep Harry… you're exhausted. Everything is going to be okay. Now sleep".
As Harry went limp in her arms, Jean struggled to keep the connection open between her and Ororo without dragging them into sleep with him.
"I'm almost there" Ororo half-whispered and half-thought, the roaring wind fading away seconds later as the setting sun appeared suddenly. "Got it!" she declared loudly, relief filling her voice as she lowered her hands from their faces.
"Jean? 'Ro?" Scott asked from the street, making Jean glance up at her lover. "Are those things gone?" he asked cautiously.
"They are" Ororo confirmed after a quick glance around, making Jean sigh in relief as she released the connection between their minds, her partner no longer needing to be able to see what Ororo saw. "Are you okay?"
"That was exhausting" Jean admitted simply, smiling awkwardly as she watched Scott nudging at the unconscious fat boy with his boot.
"You're telling me" Ororo snorted, "That boy is one powerful mutant, if you hadn't put him under I doubt I could have released the blizzard before it reached us".
"Well then let's get this one back home" Scott decided, nudging at the fat boy (Dudley, she thought) with his foot again. "Then we can talk to his parents" he continued gesturing at Harry, "And talk them into bringing Harry to the Mansion for training".
"I don't think that's going to be a problem" Jean mumbled as she recalled what she had seen while in both boy's minds. "They're cousins. And Harry's Aunt and Uncle are apparently going to be glad to get rid of him, if Harry's mind is any indication. I just don't think that the training is going to be that easy" she confessed, "He's one just giant mass of emotional pain" she explained with a grimace.
"Well then" Ororo murmured, gently brushing Harry's hair from his face to reveal a lightning bolt scar, "Then it's a good thing that the Professor did that decree in psychology isn't it?"