Disclaimer: Although somewhere within the vast Multi-verse, a variant of myself might own Harry Potter and the MCU, this variant, unfortunately, does not.
Author's note: If I had to honest, I'd have to admit, I didn't think this would get more then ten follows. So thank you to everyone who's followed and/or favored this story thus far.
Suggestions and ideas are definitely accepted. (Though some reviews would be nice.) Enjoy!
The dark shadows of the vast age-old library, cast Steven Strange's face in darkness as his eye's betray his confusion. "I'm sorry", he asks, his eye's glistening in the artificial white hues provided by the elder wand. "Do I know you?
The let question linger in the air for moment, before coming to a response. "I would suppose not", I say at last. "At least not this version of you, at any rate".
His black haired brows arc in a curious surprise. "Other versions", he asks incredulously, his crimson cape flapping oddly, as it were blown by some unseen wind. "So you've met other variants of me"?
"Well, I wouldn't quite put it as met but yes".
"What do you mean by that?"
"Well, I don't think that a unannounced imperious curse and and memory removal would really classify as met".
"And why, if I may, did you do that"?
"Well only because you were tampering with spells that would have brought on a incursion". "You were drawing different realities from the Multi-verse to replicate it into that Multi-verse".
Stange nods sagely. "Like the ruins of Kamatage and Hai-at. They seem to do that".
I shrug. "I wouldn't know. But in any case, I hope that you aren't as foolish as he was — well, is — I think he should still be alive".
"But anyhow", I prompt, levitating the book I'd taken off the floating goldplated bookholder into Stange's view. "Who's this Dormommu guy"?
Strange floats over to me (so apparently he can fly — or levitate at any rate) and looks at the book. "The Cagliostro . A book of dark dimensional spells and rituals".
"That page. The one to your left", he points. "That was brought back from time. A zealot betrayer, Kaecidus, stole it".
I scan the page's contents. A ritual to tap into Dormommu's power and to bring the dark dimension into earth.
Well, shit! I conclude. Just keeping this planet from extinction is gonna be a hassle. Just what I needed.
"So he plans on bringing Dormommu into earth", I state with finality. "But what would he gain from it"?
Motive is always the starting point.
Strange snorts. "He wants what everyone wants. Eternal life and power".
I arc a brow. "And he will manage to accomplish this how?"
Strange shrugs. "Pretty simple actually. He plans on bringing Dormommu's dark dimension to earth, which of course, is out of, and beyond time".
Nope, I conclude. Not weird at all.
"So where's this guy now", I ask. Strange floats around in a small semi-circle. "Right now we're not sure. But he can only hide for so long. We'll find him".
"Okay", I say, levitating the book back to its original residence. "But I want in on this when you guy's get a read on him".
Strange nods in ascent. "I'll notify you as soon we get one".
I turn around and place the book in its place, latching the gold hook over the chains. "So what is the purpose of this place", I ask, falling into stride alongside a floating Strange.
We pass about a dozen shadowed aisles full of books before he garners a response. "We protect the world from the unnoticed mystical threats", he explains. "From the unknown dimensions, the underworld, from beings like Dormommu, all of that sort".
"Sounds quite interesting ", I remark, staring ahead at the massive iron doors. Strange snorts. "I'll remind you that when you meet a Kai that's trying to kill you".
I shrug indifferently as we reach the book filled desk. "So how many people are in training here", I inquire, making the minor detour around it.
Strange halts momentarily and pulls out a single book from beneath a larger stash. "About two hundred, plus the Masters".
Then with a wave of a hand the doors slowly swing open. "So what are your plans for now", he prompts as we stroll into the firelit hallway.
I dull the 'Lumos' and store my wand back in its holster. "For now I'll keep look on my multi-versal tracker".
Catching a look of confusion flickering across his face, as we slowly head back in the direction of my room, I explain.
"It shows me all the multi-versal breakoffs from this verse. If one of them have a steep incline, meaning it has taken a far alternate route just by a single incident, then it might because one of us will suffer either an apocalypse or incursion".
"Fascinating", Strange remarks, ascending the stone staircase alongside me. "Where'd you get it?" "A friend", I answer, not wanting to be more forthcoming with anything more concrete.
"Well, you must have friends in high places", he quips. Inwardly, I smirk. "Yes, I do", I aver. You have no inkling how close you were to the truth.
We stroll down the dimly glowing corridor in a stilled silence, until we reach my room. "So I'll see you tomorrow", I say. "I'll give you a heads up if I leave".
He nods in affirmative, before doing the two fingered circular motion with his hands, and as before, a small circular portal opens in a shower of glowing orange sparks.
Gingerly stepping through it, he turns around to me. "Good night", he wishes. "You too", I return. And with that, Strange's figure disappears from view, leaving just the few glowing sparks behind as reminisce.
With a sigh, I step into my room, closing the material curtain behind me. Languidly, I make my way to the heavy wooden bed and place my wand on the small wooden table and reach for the mochpouch that lies on the bedcovers.
'Sleep clothes', I think, and after a short moment a set of soft cotton fabrics feel in my hands. I pull it out and spread it out on my bed. A blue muggle T-shirt and matching shorts.
With a grunt, fighting against my aching limbs and joints, I wrestle my shirt off, shortly followed by my under shirt. Attempting to assess my chest wound, I slowly drop my gaze down to my chest. What I find both confuses and astounds me.
A deep pink scar in the shape of the Deathly Hallows.
Well, I decide, if was ever going to get another scar, this would be as good as any. It's a looker, that's for sure. Aaand — added bonus — it's not plastered to my forehead like Voldemort's soul so conveniently did.
Tracing the soft raw skin of the scar, my pointer finger trailing around the triangular shape, I momentarily contemplate where the resurrection stone has disappeared to. But then I decide that I'd probably rather off being ignorant to its whereabouts.
I do, however, wonder what Uatu's ritual did. I don't feel any different. At least not physically, mentally or even magically.
An escaping yawn brings me back to my present fatigue, and groggily, I slip the T-shirt on and quickly change my pants.
My hands reach into the mochpouch once again, (bloody useful they are,) and I call upon a laundry bag. Pulling it out, I place my collection of laundry into it and return it back from whence it came.
Another long, scruffy yawn suddenly escapes my mouth, prompting me to slip into the bed and under its covers. My body instantly relaxes, and with a myriad of echoing questions and dilemmas floating across my mind, I slip into a fatigued slumber.
It's at least late noon when wakefulness finally dawns upon me. I sit up, sliding my feet off the bed, and stretch my hands out over my head, comfortably stretching out my ligaments.
Bringing my hands back down, I habitually reach over to the table for my glasses. Emptiness greets my grasping hand, triggering the remembrance of the fact that I haven't worn it since Uatu had rectified my vision.
In its stead, I take the mochpouch from the table and call upon a set of clothes. I pull it out, placing the pouch back on the table, and still numb from sleep, fight my limbs into submission, undressing myself and switching my sleep clothes with a set of more representable ones.
My feet slip into a pair of black and grey drangonhide boots and I take out my wand holster out of the mochpouch and return my sleep clothes to it. Then, with clean and neaten charms and wave of the elder wand, the bedcovers, pillows and sheets all fall into a perfect, spiffy neatness.
I replace the elder wand back into the muggle-repelling charmed holster that is suspended by my waist, and I turn away and stride toward the doorway.
I walk through the curtain into the wide-berthed, now sunbathed corridor. For a moment, I halt, reflecting on how different it looks with the light.
Moldings of various artifacts and battle scenes that plaster the ceiling are now visible, as are vivid paintings of Celtic cities, runes and markings, and at the center of the smooth stone floor, a large painting of an eye. It's similarity to the eye of Strange's necklace is undeniable.
A distant soft, feminine lecture-like tone prompts out of the thought and leads me to over to a opened window. I lean over the grey-stoned window pane, and peer downward.
In a open cobblestone courtyard, stands what is about fifty men and women, all similarly attired in variously coloured robes, aligned in a large square shape, each standing no more then five feet from the next.
Most have the orange sparking portals in front of them. Other's seem to be less successful at it, attaining just small glowing sparks that sputter in front of them. But they show a certain amount of resilience and go at it again, drawing another circular motion with their hands.
"Believe that you can do it, and you will", a yellow robed woman intones, walking around the group, observing their progress. The ancient one, I remember, as I observe her stride coming to a halt at a struggling man,
For a moment I expect sharp criticism, but she only grasps his hand and motions it, saying something to him in a much too low tone for my hearing to pick up.
A sudden rumble from within my belly has me deciding that I've stood here long enough. With a grunt, I lean back in and turn back down the corridor in the direction I had gone yesterday.
Now alight, the corridor seems shorter then it had yesterday, and I reach the stairs relatively quickly. A district echo reverberates through the closed area as I descend the stairs and reach ground.
I continue on through the high-domed, glass encased ceiling that allows a flood of sunlight to bathe the long hallway in bright sunshine, until a sudden voice behind me, prompts my stride to a pause.
"Potter", Strange's deep voice calls out from behind me. I turn around, just as his crimson caped figure catches up to me. "How's it going", I quip.
"Fine enough", he answers. "Quite a sleep you put in there". I nod, a smile coming to face. "Traveling across the Multi-verse really does knock you out". "I bet it does", Strange agrees.
"Did anyone leave food by your room?" I shake my head. "No". "Probably didn't want to disturb you", he observes. I'll fetch you something".
He opens a portal that seemingly leads to some sort of kitchen and steps through it, leaving behind just the usual orange glowing dust.
I'm kept just a few short minutes before he portals back with a small plate of food. "There's not much right now, but the red pudding — it's not all that great in taste, but it'll fill you".
I accept the plate, not even bothering to look its contents and begin eating as Strange leads me passed the library and takes a right turn into a equally high domed corridor.
"The Sorcerer Supreme is leading a exercise in the courtyard", Strange says, turning into a doorway that leads to a narrow flight of stairs. I knowingly nod, hastily swallowing a mouthful. "I saw them from the window upstairs".
"So the portal magic is something of starter's magic", I ask, trekking down the rather prolonged flight of stairs. "Not strictly speaking, no. But we do it first — even master's in the early mornings —to stimulate your visualization. It's vital for most spellwork".
We reach the end of the extensive stairwell and stroll through a short corridor before coming upon a cobblestone archway that leads into the far corner of the courtyard.
The odd magical energy radiating in air, flows eloquently, entwined in the passing breeze, carrying a certain serenitive vibrance that instantly has my mind relaxed.
A sudden inordinate chime sounds from an odd sounding distance, and everyone closes their portals, apparently having commenced the practice.
"Soku, a word please", the Ancient One requests as the crowd disperses into the indoors through the various entrances throughout the courtyard.
A man of a shortish, meaty stature hesitantly makes his way to the center of the courtyard, where the cobblestones align in a designed circular shape. I quickly recognize him as the earlier man she'd spoken to.
"Come on", Strange beckons to me, making his way over to the rendezvous. I comply and follow him to the circled center where the ancient one stands alongside a wizened looking man; balded and white bearded, dressed to the more colorful fashion of robes, eye's alight with an acute brightness.
Noticing my presence the Ancient One gives me a curt, acknowledging nod, before averting her attention to the addressed man. "You are resisting too much, Soku", she admonishes, her tone demanding. "You don't believe in yourself".
"It's my eye's", he explains exasperatedly. I can't do it if I can't see well".
The Ancient One nods to the wizened man standing aside her. "This is Master Yu, he's been a Master with us for nearly two decades".
She casts another small nod at him, and he rolls up his right sleeve. I cringe inwardly. Nothing but a half of a stump of an arm reveals itself.
Unflinching, with a series of hand maneuver's, he conjures a orange glowing runelike shield that glows with power and with a curt gesture of his half-hand, quickly dissipates it.
"You see, it's not your physical attributes that dictate what you are capable of, Soku", the Ancient One lectures. "It's your will and dedication to what you set yourself to".
Soku nods, still taken aback at the Master's ailment. "I expect better from you", the Ancient One says in finality, dismissing him . "Okay", Soku agrees, and still awed, walks off toward an entrance to the left of us.
"Any progress", the Ancient One prompts, her eye's still fixed at her pupil as she watches him walk off. I shake my head in the negative, acutely aware of the presence of the Master. She trusts him, I decide. I guess I could too.
"I don't think this'll be an easy errand. I'm not yet aware a method of detecting a multiplying incursion that seems to have no apparent connection".
The Ancient One turns to me as her pupil finally enters the Sanctum's indoors. "Well, then how did you it is here that carries the key to preventing it?"
I frown, not wanting to give up too much information. "Let's just say I've got a good source for that". "Like a person", Strange asks, "Or like a ritual or something?" I look at him. "Just trust me on this, alright? If we're going to work this together your going to need to trust me".
"Of course", the Ancient One agrees, eyeing the half full plate I still hold in my hand.
"But in any case, I've had just a short amount of time to begin the book of Saruka, but there seems to be no mention of a large occurrence of incursions".
"Would've been too easy", I remark as I notice one of the earlier pupil's hurriedly making his way toward us. "It'll probably take some time before we can make any conclusions".
The pupil reaches us and hesitantly speaks up. "New York's Sanctum is under attack", he relates exasperatedly.
Strange looks at me and nods his head, before the Ancient One draws a portal open. "Gather a small force in Hon Kong", she instructs the messenger. Then she steps through portal, closely followed by Strange and myself.