"LILY, TAKE HARRY UPSTAIRS!" The urgency in James's voice reverberated through Lily Potter's ears, sending shivers down her spine. Gripping her infant boy tightly, she dashed up the stairs, her heart pounding in her chest. She had always known this day would come, the day when Voldemort, the dark wizard they had fought against, would seek revenge on those who dared defy him and his loyal Death Eaters.
The once serene halls of their family home now echoed with chaos and fear. The Order of the Phoenix had warned them about the impending attack, but nothing could have prepared Lily for the raw terror that gripped her soul. She knew that every second counted, that their lives hung in the balance.
As she reached the nursery at the top of the stairs, Lily's mind raced with thoughts of protection. She had to shield Harry from the imminent danger, even if it meant sacrificing her own life. Love radiated through her veins as she gazed into her son's bright green eyes, his tiny fingers clutching at her robe.
Lily's resolve hardened. She would do whatever it took to keep Harry safe. Instinctively, she drew her wand from the folds of her cloak, ready to defend her family against the darkness that threatened to consume them.
A thunderous crash resonated from downstairs, followed by menacing laughter that chilled Lily's very bones. Voldemort had arrived. With a trembling hand, she cast protective enchantments on the nursery, layering spells upon spells, creating a fortress of love and magic to shield her precious child.
"Please, Harry," Lily whispered, her voice laced with tears. "You must survive. You are the light that will guide us through this darkness. You are the hope we desperately need."
Outside the nursery door, Lily could hear the thundering footsteps of Death Eaters drawing closer. She knew her time was running out. With a final, longing look at her son, she placed him in his crib, wrapping him in a soft, emerald-green blanket. She gently kissed his forehead, her love pouring into him like a sacred vow.
"Be strong, my little warrior," she whispered, her voice trembling but resolute. "Mommy loves you more than words can express."
Taking a deep breath, Lily squared her shoulders and turned to face the imminent threat. She knew her sacrifice might be in vain, but she refused to let fear dictate her actions. With unwavering courage, she stepped out of the nursery, her wand at the ready.
As the door slammed shut behind her, Lily Potter's eyes met those of the approaching Death Eaters. Determination burned in her gaze, a fierce fire that refused to be extinguished. She would fight to the last breath, not just for her son, but for a world where love triumphed over hate.
The battle ensued, a clash of spells and wills, as Lily courageously defended her family and all that they held dear. The sound of screams and explosions filled the air, but through it all, Lily's thoughts never wavered from the child she had left behind.
In the end, it was a sacrifice that would echo through the ages. Lily's love for her son created an impenetrable shield, a love so powerful that it rebounded the Killing Curse on Voldemort himself.
As the room fell silent, drowned only by the echoes of baby Harry's cries, a sudden tire screech sliced through the night. The nursery door swung open with a bang, revealing a disheveled and weary Sirius Black, the Potters' loyal friend and Harry's godfather.
His breath came in ragged gasps as he rushed into the room, his eyes wide with a mix of relief and fear. His heart sank at the sight of Lily's empty arms and the faint whispers of battle that still lingered in the air. He had arrived too late, unable to save his best friends from the clutches of Voldemort's wrath.
Fighting back tears, Sirius hurried to the crib, scooping up baby Harry with trembling hands. The infant's cries softened as he found solace in the arms of his godfather, sensing a familiar presence. Sirius looked down at the innocent face of the boy who was now the only link to his lost friends.
"Harry," Sirius murmured, his voice laden with a potent mix of sorrow and steel. "I swear on my life, I'll move mountains to keep you safe. Your parents' sacrifice won't be in vain, not while I'm breathing." His memory sparked a surge of burning rage. "But there's something I must do first, something that'll set things right. I'll take you to a bloke who's as loyal as they come, someone your parents trusted like no other. With him by your side, Harry, you'll be bloody well protected."
With a fierce determination burning in his eyes, Sirius tenderly scooped up little Harry, enveloping him in yet another layer of soft blankets, shielding him from the biting winds that whipped through the darkened streets of Britain. In his heart, he clung to the unwavering belief that amidst the storm of vengeance he sought, there was one man he could rely on to safeguard his cherished godson: Charles Xavier. It was during their eventful sojourn to the Americas that Sirius and the Potters had crossed paths with Xavier, witnessing first hand his unwavering strength and unwavering loyalty. Now, with a plan forming in Sirius's mind, he knew that while he embarked on his quest for retribution, Harry would find solace and protection in the watchful care of Charles Xavier.
—
Scene Break
A day after the incident in Godric's Hollow
—
In a quaint café nestled near Heathrow Airport, Charles Xavier stood alongside his trusted companions, Ororo Munroe and Logan. As soon as Sirius Black relayed the devastating news of the Potters' tragic fate, Xavier sprang into action, hastily arranging a flight to London. The weight of sorrow settled heavily upon his heart, for he had grown fond of the Potters during their brief encounter, recognizing kindred spirits who fought a similar battle under contrasting circumstances.
Having been enlightened about the magical civil war by the Potters themselves, Xavier burned with a fervent desire to lend his aid. However, he knew all too well that such intervention would flout countless rules within the wizarding world, posing not only a threat to himself and his own people, but also jeopardizing the safety of the Potters—a risk he simply couldn't afford to take.
The sound of a roaring motorcycle engine reverberated through the air, drawing the attention of the trio. They gazed out of the café windows to witness the arrival of a rugged man, his untamed black hair cascading around his weary face. Clad in exhaustion, he carried a child snugly nestled against his chest. His searching eyes scanned the room until they locked onto Charles and his companions, prompting him to make his way towards them.
"Charles... he... he got them... he got my friends," Sirius whispered, his voice choked with sorrow, a lone tear tracing a path down his cheek. Ororo moved to console him, but Sirius raised a hand, warding off her sympathy. "I don't need your pity... It was my fault, I... I-"
"Sirius, whatever transpired, I am certain you are not solely to blame for this tragedy. I comprehend that your battle persists—"
"Nah, it's done now. We came out on top, all thanks to this little fella and his folks, ain't that right, Harry?" Sirius's gaze shifted downward, his attention directed at the child nestled against him. The three mutants finally turned their focus towards the young boy.
"This must be their son. Lily mentioned his birth. It's a heartbreaking circumstance for you, little one, to have lost your parents so prematurely," Charles tenderly caressed the boy's head, eliciting a soft coo from Harry as he turned to face the professor. "Ah, I see you've inherited your mother's captivating eyes." A warm smile graced Charles's lips, and little Harry attempted to mimic the expression, his innocent face mirroring the professor's affectionate regard.
"Charles... I know this is a lot to ask, but I need you to take Harry back to the institute for a while," Sirius implored, a mix of urgency and desperation in his voice.
Charles regarded him with a puzzled expression. "I am more than willing to provide a safe haven for this child within my mansion, but I must ask, why?"
Sirius clenched his fists, his eyes ablaze with an unbridled rage that Logan recognized all too well, having experienced it himself. "I know exactly who gave their location to Voldemort... And I plan on hunting down that rat and ending him. But now, since most folks assumed I was their secret keeper and revealed their whereabouts, the entire wizarding world is hunting me down."
Although Charles couldn't fully comprehend the role of a secret keeper, he understood its gravity in the wizarding world. "Listen, Charles, I know revenge and taking lives ain't your style, but I've got my path set in stone, and nothin' can stop me," Sirius declared with unwavering determination. "You take little Harry with you, and make sure he knows every damn story 'bout his parents. I trust you with that."
Charles nodded, recognizing the resolute determination in Sirius's eyes. "I will provide a safe haven for Harry, and I'll ensure he learns about the incredible legacy his parents left behind. We'll give you the time to say your goodbyes, Sirius. Ororo, Logan, let's head outside."
Sirius nodded back, his gaze fixed on Harry, who stared back with wide eyes. "You're goin' with Uncle Charles now, Harry," Sirius said, his voice tinged with a mix of sorrow and hope. "I'm sorry I won't be there to see you grow up, but mark my words, I'll find my way back to you. I'm Sirius Black, and nothin' can keep me away from you, kiddo."
After a tender moment, Sirius finally stepped outside, joining Ororo and Logan. He handed Harry and a bag of supplies to Charles. "You'll need all this, Chuck. Good luck with the little tyke. He's bound to be a chip off the old block, but I hope he takes after his mother's good sense," Sirius quipped, offering a faint smile. He turned to Ororo and Logan, his eyes filled with a mix of gratitude and determination. "I'm counting on both of you to help raise Harry. I want him to grow into a strong, stand-up man someday." He looked back at Harry one last time, pressing a kiss to his forehead. "I love you, Harry. I'm sorry," he whispered, his voice filled with both regret and resolve. After bidding a final farewell to the trio, Sirius set off on his journey to track down the rat, disappearing into the unknown with a steadfast resolve in his heart.
Charles, Ororo, and Logan stood in the wake of Sirius's departure, their eyes settling on the slumbering baby in Charles's arms. Charles bent down, his voice gentle as he addressed the child. "Come, little Harry, Uncle Logan, Aunt Ororo, and I will take you to your new home."
The trio embarked on a plane journey, returning to their familiar abode. With combined effort, they prepared a room tailored specifically for young Harry. It was a pleasant space, adorned in neutral tones, offering Harry the freedom to decorate it to his heart's desire once he grew older. Charles was cautious not to spoil the child excessively, understanding that the Potters wouldn't wish for their son to become entitled or spoiled.
—
Scene Break
17 years later
—
It is the year 2000, Harry had long since found a home in the mansion, and those years had been filled with significant milestones. At the age of five, Harry began to exhibit signs of his inherent magical abilities. While still lacking a deep understanding of magic, Charles instinctively reached out for assistance from the one person he knew could guide him—the esteemed Doctor Strange, renowned as one of the greatest wizards and the master of the mystic arts.
During that period, the institute experienced an influx of mutant students as the global mutant population surged. Among the early arrivals was Jean Grey, who grappled with her burgeoning telekinetic powers while facing a lack of support from her parents. Recognizing her struggles, Harry extended an invitation for Jean to join him at the mansion, and with her parents' consent, she became a part of their unique family. From the moment they met, Harry and Jean formed an instant connection, bringing much-needed positivity into each other's lives.
Now, Harry and Jean found themselves seated side by side on a tree, nestled in the backyard of the mansion. They observed their friend Scott Summers and the other children joyfully playing in the sprawling field below.
Harry sported a tank top underneath a striking leather jacket, paired with well-fitted black jeans. He wore headphones, plugged into his mp3 player, which played his favorite tunes, allowing him to immerse himself in the rhythm of the music. Jean, on the other hand, donned a comfortable long-sleeved shirt and loose-fitting pants. She delved into a book about vampires, finding amusement in its poorly written but captivating narrative.
Jean's laughter bubbled up as she nudged Harry, prompting him to remove his headphones and glance at her with a curious expression. "What's so funny?" he inquired, his interest piqued.
Jean composed herself, pointing at a particular dialogue in the book she was reading. "Read this line right here," she requested, a mischievous glimmer in her eyes, struggling to stifle her laughter.
"'No, Jason! Your love is far too immense, too overwhelming for a mere mortal like myself to bear!' good lord why do you keep reading these books, they're absolutely terrible" Harry cringed and shook his head.
Jean couldn't help but burst into laughter at Harry's reaction. "That's the whole point," she chuckled, her eyes sparkling mischievously. "I read them because of how unbelievably bad they are. There's a certain charm in terribly written books, you know? It's like when you and Scott go on a mission to find the absolute worst movies out there."
Harry grinned, his own laughter joining hers. He leaned comfortably against the tree trunk, enjoying the light-hearted banter. ""Ah, the quest for the ultimate cinematic disaster," he chuckled along with her. "I guess we all have our guilty pleasures."
"Hey, guys, you aren't joining us?!" Scott's voice echoed across the field, reaching Jean and Harry perched on the tree. "We're about to hit the basketball court," he called out, his excitement evident. The two friends exchanged a glance, shaking their heads simultaneously, causing a tinge of disappointment to wash over Scott. "Alright then," he responded, his enthusiasm waning slightly.
Both Jean and Harry possessed athletic abilities, but basketball wasn't exactly Jean's strong suit. They once attempted a game with Harry teaching her, but it didn't go so well—Jean struggled to grasp the intricacies of the sport. On the other hand, Harry, despite being part of the Bayville High basketball team, simply wasn't in the mood to play at that particular moment. It was the holiday season, and he intended to savor every remaining second, relishing in the joy and relaxation it brought.
"Harry, please come to my office when you can. Dr. Strange is here for your training"
Professor X's voice resonated in Harry's mind, prompting a sigh of slight annoyance to escape his lips. The sound caught Jean's attention, and she cast a questioning look his way. Harry groaned, expressing his frustration. "It's the usual. Strange is here to teach me. Damn, I can't even enjoy a peaceful day," he grumbled while getting to his feet, handing his MP3 player and headphones to Jean, who took them without a word.
Understanding his frustration, Jean offered a glimmer of optimism. "I get it, but hey, look on the bright side. Mr. Strange is really helping you gain control over your powers... unlike me," she muttered the last part quietly, her gaze falling upon her own hands. Unbeknownst to her, Harry caught every word she said, crouching down to meet her eyes and taking her hands gently in his.
"Hey, we'll make it through, okay? You're not alone, Jean. We both possess incredible powers beyond our control. It's up to us whether we choose to work hard and master them. I'll be right by your side, just as you would be for me," he assured her, offering a warm smile while squeezing her hands.
"Thank you, Harry," Jean whispered, her smile softening as she pulled him into a hug. To outsiders, it might appear as though they were lovers, but in truth, they had explored a romantic relationship in the past only to discover that their love for each other was more akin to that of siblings.
They released each other from the embrace, and Harry bid farewell to Jean, asking her to inform Scott of his whereabouts if he inquired. Jean nodded in understanding. Harry made his way inside the mansion, passing Ororo, Logan, and Professor Hank McCoy along the way. The latter would visit occasionally, adding to the dynamic of the mansion's inhabitants. As he walked, Harry's pace slowed, contemplating what kind of training session Dr. Strange had in store for him that day. Finally, he reached the office door, raising his hand to knock, but before he could make contact, Charles's voice resonated from inside the room. Harry couldn't help but chuckle at his forgetfulness, realizing that the old man always seemed to know his location even without being informed.
Twisting the doorknob, Harry entered the room and was greeted by the sight of Professor Xavier and Dr. Strange engaged in a conversation over a cup of tea.
"Ahh, there he is. Alright, Harry? I hope I didn't interrupt anything," Stephen asked in his usual good-natured manner. The wizard had always been amiable towards Harry since their first meeting. However, during their training sessions, Stephen's personality would shift dramatically, transforming into a serious, no-nonsense wizard who fully embodied his title as the Master of the Mystic Arts.
"Yeah, I'm alright, Mr. Strange. How's your summer been?" Harry replied, a friendly tone in his voice.
Stephen chuckled, shaking his head. "What did I tell you about calling me Mister? We've known each other long enough, Harry. You can call me Stephen," he insisted, a warm smile on his face. "As for my summer, well, I've been doing fine. A bit bored, actually, since there's not much else to do in the Sanctum, you know."
Harry grinned back. "I can imagine. But hey, at least you have all that mystical stuff to keep you occupied. I wish we had half of the stuff you have in the sanctum, so I could learn faster."
Stephen's smirk widened at Harry's response, but he quickly shifted his attention to Charles as he shook his head in disagreement. "It would be dangerous to have Dr. Strange's magical equipment in a house full of kids learning to control their powers," Charles explained, concern evident in his voice.
Harry let out a disappointed sigh, understanding the reasoning behind Charles' decision. "I guess I see your point," he reluctantly admitted. "Well, Stephen, what's today's lesson then?"
With a confident smile, Stephen stood up and waved his hand, causing the tea cups to vanish into thin air. "Today, we're going somewhere important to your wizarding culture," he announced, excitement gleaming in his eyes.
Harry's face lit up with curiosity and anticipation. "Really? Where are we going? Is it Hogwarts? Diagon Alley?" he asked, his mind filled with images of the magical world he had only heard stories about.
"You're right on that one, we'll be going to Diagon Alley to claim your inheritance since you have become of age. You're 17 now, right?" Stephen informed Harry, his eyes sparkling with anticipation.
Harry nodded, feeling a mix of excitement and nervousness. "Um, actually, next month I'll be 17," he replied, his voice slightly uncertain.
Stephen waved his hand dismissively. "Close enough. Time flies, doesn't it? Come on, we'll be teleporting there. We'll see you soon, Charles," he called out to the Professor, bidding him farewell.
"Bye, Uncle Charles," Harry said, giving a small wave before leaving the room to join Stephen outside.
As Harry made his way down the hallway, Charles was left alone in his office. He let out a sigh, his thoughts swirling with a mix of concern and hope. "I do hope he knows what he's doing, bringing Harry back there," Charles mused, rubbing his temple wearily.
With a heavy heart, he turned his attention back to his work, trusting that Harry's journey with Stephen would lead him to the discoveries and growth he needed, even if it meant facing the challenges and dangers of the wizarding world.
Harry and Dr. Strange stood in the front yard of the mansion, preparing for their teleportation. Stephen addressed Harry, emphasizing the need for caution. "Okay, Harry, I trust your teleportation abilities, but I don't think you're ready to travel to another country just yet. You'll be coming with me to ensure your safety. I don't want to risk any accidental teleportations to unwanted places. Besides, your magical core is still developing, and such long-distance teleportation would leave you exhausted. Understand?"
Harry let out a resigned sigh. "Yeah, I understand. So, where should I hold on?"
Stephen grinned and spread his arms wide. "My waist."
Harry deadpanned. "No."
Stephen chuckled, realizing Harry wasn't amused by the joke. "I was kidding," he reassured him. Moving closer, he placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. "Get ready, take a deep breath."
Harry followed the instructions, feeling a sudden pull as the teleportation magic took hold. In the blink of an eye, they landed on solid ground. Opening his eyes, Harry found himself in England, standing outside a pub. The sign above it read "The Leaky Cauldron."
"Come on, Harry," Stephen beckoned, leading the way into the pub. As they entered, Harry couldn't help but notice the peculiar and curious looks they received from the patrons. Stephen kept a firm grip on Harry's shoulder as they made their way to a back room, his expression wary. Whispering to Harry, he warned, "Be careful around them. I believe they know who you are."
Harry furrowed his brow, full of questions, but he respected Stephen's request to save them for later. With a nod, he followed Stephen into the back where it leads to a brick wall.
"I can't believe I'm using this," Stephen sighed, conjuring a wand seemingly out of thin air. He tapped the bricks in a specific pattern, causing them to shift and reveal a hidden passage. Harry's eyes widened in surprise as he followed Stephen's lead. "Welcome to Diagon Alley," Stephen announced, gesturing towards the bustling street ahead. "Do you see that grand white building over there?" He pointed towards the end of the alley where a majestic structure stood tall. "That's Gringotts. We'll be heading there to claim your inheritance, establish your lordship, and maybe look into your family's history."
Harry's mind whirled with astonishment. Lordship? He hadn't the faintest idea about the responsibilities of being a lord, but what intrigued him more was the prospect of uncovering his family's past. Perhaps through this he could learn more about his parents beyond the stories he had heard from Charles.
As they approached the grand white building of Gringotts, Harry couldn't help but notice the sudden shift in attention from the people around them. All eyes seemed to be fixated on him, and it made him increasingly uncomfortable. He quickened his pace, hoping to evade the curious gazes that followed his every move. Stephen kept up with him, matching his stride from behind, perhaps sensing Harry's unease.
The whispers and hushed conversations only intensified as they moved through the bustling street. Harry's heart raced, and he couldn't shake the feeling that these people knew something about him, something he himself was yet to discover. He focused his gaze straight ahead, determined to reach the Gringotts and find answers to the burning questions within him.
The goblin's sharp eyes scrutinized Harry for a moment before his thin lips curled into a slight smile, revealing a row of pointed teeth. He began typing something on a small, ancient-looking device, his long, nimble fingers moving with precision.
"Ah, Mr. Harry Potter," the goblin mumbled, his voice still gruff. "A visit to claim your inheritance, I presume?" he asked, his tone laced with a hint of curiosity.
Harry nodded nervously, his palms becoming slightly clammy. He didn't know what to expect, but the mention of his inheritance made him both anxious and hopeful. The goblin glanced at Stephen, who seemed unperturbed by the intimidating atmosphere, and then focused his attention back on Harry.
"Very well, Mr. Potter," the goblin continued. "Follow me, and we shall retrieve your family vault." With that, he rose from his seat and beckoned them to follow him, leading them through a series of winding corridors within the bank. The heavy presence of security became even more apparent as they passed by heavily armed guards, their eyes trained on the visitors with a mixture of caution and suspicion.
"Stephen reassured from his side, 'Don't be overly fearful of them; as long as they abide by their rules, they won't take any action against you.'"
Harry inquired, "Um, yeah, but how are we going to reach there? Are we supposed to use this cart?" They proceeded to approach the cart.
Stephen chuckled softly, noticing Harry's apprehension. "Don't worry, Harry. This cart may seem a bit rough, but it's perfectly safe. The goblins have been using them for ages to navigate through the vaults efficiently." He placed a reassuring hand on Harry's shoulder.
As the cart sped through the narrow passageways, Harry couldn't help but feel a mix of excitement and unease. The dimly lit tunnels whizzed past them, lined with countless doors leading to various vaults. The sound of clinking coins and distant voices echoed through the underground chamber, creating an eerie ambiance.
After what felt like an eternity, the cart finally came to a halt in front of a heavily guarded vault door. The goblin teller hopped off the cart and approached the door with a key in hand. With a series of intricate movements, he unlocked the door, revealing a vast chamber filled with towering stacks of gold, silver, and various other valuable treasures.
"Behold, Mr. Potter, the Potter family vault," the goblin announced with a hint of pride in his voice. He gestured for Harry and Stephen to step inside, giving them a moment to take in the sight before them.
Harry's eyes widened at the sheer magnitude of wealth and history contained within the vault. He couldn't help but feel a mix of awe and responsibility wash over him. This was his family's legacy, and he was determined to honor it in the best way possible.
A/N Just gonna skip this part cause it'll be the usual stuff you see everywhere, i just felt it necessary to put it in instead of dismissing it all together.
"So my... parents sacrificed their lives for mine... I... I don't know how to feel," Harry looked down, feeling his eyes begin to well up with tears, the threat of them spilling over.
Stephen placed a comforting hand on Harry's shoulder, understanding the weight of the emotions the young wizard was experiencing. "Harry, what your parents did was an act of immense love and sacrifice. It's natural to feel a mix of emotions right now, and it's okay to let yourself process those feelings."
He paused for a moment, searching for the right words to offer solace to Harry. "Your parents' actions were a testament to their unwavering love for you. They wanted to ensure your safety and give you a chance at life, even if it meant giving up their own. It's a powerful and selfless act that shows just how much they cared for you."
Stephen's voice softened as he continued, "Remember, Harry, their love for you lives on. You carry their legacy within you. And now, as you stand here in this vault, you have the opportunity to honor their memory and create a path of your own. They would want you to live a life filled with love, courage, and happiness."
He gave Harry a moment to collect himself, allowing him the space to process the overwhelming emotions. Sometimes, words alone couldn't heal the wounds, but having someone there to lend support and understanding could provide the comfort needed to begin the healing process.
"Thank you, Stephen, I appreciate it," Harry said, taking a deep breath to calm himself. He then proceeded to scan his family vault, searching for something of value to bring home. As he reached a bookshelf, his gaze wandered over the titles on the covers, engrossed in his search. One particular book caught his attention—the Potter family grimoire. "This looks interesting," he mused, carefully pulling it out and examining it.
"You should definitely take that. It might be useful for you to read at home, since I can't really lend you my books," Stephen remarked, approaching Harry and peering over his shoulder to read. "Let me see that. You keep exploring and see if you find more things to take with you." Harry handed the book to Stephen with caution and resumed his exploration of the vault.
Harry nodded and continued exploring the vault, searching for other items that held sentimental or practical value. He found a small box filled with old family photographs, capturing moments of his parents' lives that he had never seen before. Carefully, he picked up the box, feeling a mixture of curiosity and nostalgia.
As he sifted through the photographs, a bittersweet smile formed on his face. He saw images of his parents, their smiles radiating joy and love, as well as pictures of him as a baby, held in their arms. Each photo told a story, a glimpse into a past he had only heard little about but never truly experienced.
Feeling a sense of connection and belonging, Harry decided to take the box of photographs with him. They would serve as a reminder of the love he had received and the family he had lost, but also as a source of strength and inspiration to carry forward.
Meanwhile, Stephen had delved into the Potter family grimoire, perusing its ancient pages and studying the magical knowledge within. He couldn't help but be fascinated by the centuries of wisdom and spells contained within the book. The intricate rituals and enchantments described in the grimoire held immense power, waiting to be harnessed by someone worthy.
Carefully closing the book, Stephen handed it back to Harry with a smile. "This is a precious artifact, Harry. It contains the magical heritage and wisdom of your family. I'm glad you've chosen to take it. Treat it with respect and delve into its secrets when you're ready. It will be a valuable resource in your journey of mastering your own powers."
Harry accepted the grimoire, feeling a newfound sense of responsibility and purpose. He knew that he held within his hands not just a book, but a connection to his ancestors and a source of knowledge that would guide him in his magical journey.
With their chosen items in hand, Harry and Stephen exited the vault, leaving behind the memories and treasures of the past. As they made their way back through the winding corridors of Gringotts, Harry couldn't help but feel a renewed sense of determination. He was ready to embrace his magical heritage and forge his own path.
—
Scene Break
With Jean
—
After Harry left, she put on his headphones and scrolled through the extensive collection of songs. Eventually, she found one that suited her taste. It had become a habit for her to ask Harry to include songs she enjoyed so she could borrow the headphones whenever he wasn't using them. Humming along to ABBA's "Gimme Gimme," she continued reading her book.
Every line from the book was cringe-inducing, and she contemplated setting it aside to read later. As she looked up, Scott approached her with a questioning expression. "Harry's with Dr. Strange," she informed him before he even had a chance to ask, as if Scott had just read her mind.
"I see. Poor guy can't even catch a break," Scott sighed, taking a seat next to Jean. He noticed the book lying on the ground. "How's the book?" he asked, picking it up.
"Terrible," Jean shook her head. As Scott skimmed through the first chapter, she watched his expression change from neutral to one of disgust, resembling someone who had just bitten into a sour lemon. This made her chuckle. "I told you. Give me that," she said, snatching the book from his hands and standing up. She placed the headphones around her neck. "I'm going to take a shower," she announced, wrinkling her nose after sniffing the air. "You should probably do the same," she added, covering her nose with her hand to block out the scent.
Scott raised his arm and took a whiff of himself, chuckling because she was right. He was reeking of sweat. "Yeah, I better take a shower."
The two teenagers entered the mansion and went their separate ways to their respective rooms. Like everyone else, Jean, Scott, and Harry had their own rooms in the mansion. Charles had allocated individual rooms for each mutant since there were plenty of vacant spaces, as he hadn't discovered and recruited many mutants to join the program yet.
Jean entered her room, a comfortable space that reflected her personality. The walls were adorned with artwork and posters of her favorite bands and artists. A small bookshelf displayed a collection of novels and comic books, showcasing her love for storytelling. A desk with a laptop stood in one corner, where she often worked on her school assignments and pursued her interests in research and writing.
In addition to her love for storytelling and writing, she was an active participant in physical activities. During her time at Bayville High, Jean showcased her athletic prowess by playing soccer and even being part of the cheerleading team. Her involvement in these sports allowed her to express her team spirit and stay physically active. Whether it was on the field or cheering on her fellow students, Jean's energetic and enthusiastic nature shone through, making her a well-rounded member of the school community.
Taking a moment to settle in, Jean changed into comfortable loungewear and decided to relax on her bed for a while.
Meanwhile, Scott entered his own room, which was tidy and organized. His passion for engineering and mechanics was evident in the tools and gadgets neatly arranged on shelves. A large whiteboard displayed complex diagrams and calculations, evidence of his ongoing projects and problem-solving endeavors.
After quickly changing into fresh clothes, Scott sat at his desk, contemplating whether to continue working on one of his inventions or take a well-deserved break. He knew he had training sessions and responsibilities to attend to, but he also understood the importance of relaxation and self-care. Deciding to strike a balance, he opted for a short break before diving back into his projects.
While the two took a moment to rest, later that night Harry finally arrived home with Stephen, who soon departed after their arrival. Stephen offered advice to Harry, urging him to delve into his family's books and make the most of the possessions he had acquired from the family vault.
Harry entered his room with a sense of gratitude for having a place to call his own. It had been a long day filled with revelations and emotions, and he needed a moment to process everything. His room was simple but comfortable, adorned with a few personal mementos and a small collection of books and vinyl records.
He changed into more comfortable clothes and flopped onto his bed, his mind buzzing once more with thoughts about his newfound heritage and the responsibility that came with it. He knew he had much to learn and explore, but for now, he allowed himself a moment of rest and reflection. Closing his eyes, he took a deep breath and let the weight of the day slowly dissipate.
A/N Let me know if you have any critiques, i'd really appreciate it, and for the people who are following A Wizard In Kombat, don't worry i'm also working on that one.