Mind Over Magic
Disclaimer: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Review Answers:
SGM84: I can only try, friend; all I can do is promise to try;
Guest: Chapter 2 coming right up, piping hot;
Zamia: I even have a much better explanation for Harrison that will allow me to keep up the story and change what many thought was a down moment for the old version;
BillBrink: It needed cleaning up and, thankfully, taking a well-earned break – or what I thought was my end of writing – helped me find it;
Jostanos: How the world wept when she joined the angels in heaven;
Alix33: Nice to hear your reviews again, old friend: always appreciate your unofficial beta-reading advice;
Vampireking40: And Zoe Wannamaker, who, ironically, was a bad character – ironic cause Umbridge's actress was a good person;
Luiz4200: I put in a little titbit in this chapter explaining that miss;
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ALSO: To the reviewers who keep leaving queries about turning it into art forms, my answer is NO!
I appreciate your compliments, but my work is text only and I have no desire to make any artwork or commission it either, so, again, NO!
Now, on with the story…
How could Lily and James' son not believe in magic?
How could he call Hogwarts a fake?
Why did he seem so…different from the little boy she'd seen delivered to those damn Muggles?
Chapter 2: We Are Not Amused (But I Am Bored!)
July 31st.
Time was, it had been a date that Harrison had been reliably informed, and soon came to recognise as the anniversary of his birth, not that it meant much of anything else to him.
In the orphanage, such a day meant the usual things for the kids: a little tea party with a cheap, sickly-sweet cake, low-budget finger buffet and silly, juvenile party games for prizes nobody wanted, least of all the birthday boy or girl in question. Oh, and then there were the presents, of course, but in all his time at the home, Harrison had only ever treasured one gift and that was because he'd secretly bought it himself and addressed it from an anonymous benefactor and that was his David Copperfield book.
Other than that, the clothes, games, sports equipment or even birthday money he got as a gift was received with his usual apathetic expression.
Oh, he pretended to show gratitude to the matron and her staff for their kindness; and he did his best to enjoy the trip that usually followed to a local theme park or the cinema, but, on the inside, his gratitude level was as dead as dead could be.
After all, these people had let him be sent back to the Millers, only to become a prisoner and a forced object of selfish, egotistical pride.
So why, exactly, would he ever thank them and mean it after that had happened?
Even so, when the day of his 11th birthday dawned, Harrison seemed to show a brief modicum of excitement and anticipation, though only he knew why he felt such things.
After all, if the joke turned out to be a joke, he anticipated the fun he was going to have responding to it afterwards.
And if the joke wasn't a joke, he was excited about the prospect of a plethora of wisdom, knowledge and skills available to him.
Anything else was just dull to him…
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"An…orphanage? Lily Potter's son is in an…orphanage?"
This was the reaction given by one Professor Filius Flitwick as he stood with his friend and colleague, Minerva McGonagall, the two of them equally lost for words as they stood outside the gates to St Christopher's, having gone through one Merlin of a wild goose chase in tracking and confirming Harry Potter's home address.
From trying and failing to track down the Muggles – whom they'd learned were persona non grata in Little Whinging – to the local authorities, or the police as Minerva had recalled some Muggle-borns learning, to a member of said force who, when they asked about Harry and his involvement in some scandalous crime about embezzlement or some other unknown Muggle weirdness, had needed some convincing to explain how the two of them represented Harry's birth family before he'd given up the details.
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At the same time, Minerva was left alarmed by the fact that she hadn't even noticed the boy's letter being sent to an orphanage in the first place.
Like her boss, and a certain colleague of hers, she'd just naturally assumed Harry was still living with the Muggles.
But now, as Minerva stood in front of the gates next to Filius, she couldn't help but share his disbelief and outrage, both of which showed in her Scottish brogue as she exclaimed, "I told Albus they were no good for him, but you know him, Filius: he just doesn't listen!"
"How Lily even wanted Harry to live anywhere near Petunia, willingly or otherwise, is also a complete mystery, Minerva," argued Filius, his voice edged by a note of disbelief and suspicion, "I don't know about you, but I can't count the number of times I had Lily come to me for advice on keeping away from her family during the holidays, even though her dear parents cared greatly for her and accepted she was a witch."
"From what I heard, Petunia was jealous of the fact that Lily was at Hogwarts while she was turned away because she wasn't one of us," replied Minerva, earning a scoff from Filius before she sighed deeply, "Whatever the truth may be, it's neither here nor there, Filius: as I said before, we are here to…to reassure Mr Potter of his rightful heritage."
"I still find it hard to believe he doesn't know…much less accept what he has inside of him," argued Filius, earning a stiff nod from Minerva before he watched as she lifted a hand and pressed on a single button next to the gate.
A few minutes, and a long-winded, but interesting conversation about their quarry, later, the two Professors found themselves walking up a single flight of stairs and along a hallway, led by a charming, but wary young man whom seemed hesitant to let them be anywhere near Harry at all.
He also seemed to be trying his hardest to avoid talking about said boy, as though there was something off with him.
Minerva just hoped he was wrong!
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At the same time, the Head of Gryffindor made a mental note to speak with the aforementioned boss about this change in circumstances.
And this time, she wouldn't take no for an answer…
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'Hmm…nearly lunchtime and still no sign of any visitors…well, I guess it was inevitable.'
Even as he thought about how long this was all taking, Harrison scoffed to himself as he considered his thoughts about how un-amused he was about having his time wasted and the stupid, fantastical idea about some apparent fantastical feat known as magic being brought out of him, as though he was a child who was supposed to be entertained by floating balloons and disappearing handkerchiefs.
Pulling himself away from where he'd been waiting by his bedroom window, Harrison walked to the door of his room, deciding that if he wasn't going to get excited, he might as well go through the motions and fill his belly with party food.
As he opened the door, however, his eyes narrowed when he found Roger Wilkes – or Roger, Wilco, Over and Out as some of the kids joked when they thought he couldn't hear them; although after the first time, the joke got stale for Harrison – one of the care workers at the orphanage, standing outside the door, his hand raised as though he was about to knock.
However, it was the sight of the two people with him that caught Harrison's attention, which was saying something because one of them looked like a really weird person.
She was dressed in clothes that wouldn't have looked out of style in some olden-days periodical drama, including a very unnecessarily-large hat that seemed to give anyone else the impression she was about to host High Tea or some other hoity-toity function. The woman wore a long black coat that seemed to cover most of her body while, in one arm, she carried what looked like an ordinary-looking carpet-style handbag, which would have reminded Harrison of a certain magical nanny, if such banal musicals didn't bore him stupid.
However, her companion seemed to have tried better to present an air of apparent normalcy, if not pride in his presentation.
He was dressed in a rather fetching tuxedo, which was made complete with a short, sleek walking cane that he didn't seem to need, but, if Harrison had to guess, he would have assumed the man brought it for appearances' sake. He was also stout in his features; unyielding, but wise with an air of danger that even made his short height look anything but hilarious.
In fact, Harrison found himself dimly reminded of a certain green creature in a certain science fiction movie franchise and, when he looked at the small gentleman, he got that same feeling.
Wisdom.
Power.
Respect.
All these things were both demanded by the man's presence, but also offered to all who stood in his presence, such as the stone-faced youth.
As the shorter man looked at Harrison, the young boy saw his eyes widen briefly, almost as though he couldn't believe what he was seeing before, as the man went to speak, Roger cut him off with his gruff, forced-formal tone, "Oh, Harrison: I wondered if you'd be up yet…"
"At nearly midday; what sort of layabout do you think I am?" asked Harrison coolly, though Roger only gave a twitch of his eyebrow as a hint that he had heard the boy, before he nodded stiffly.
"Yes…I suppose you are a creature of habit, aren't you? Anyway, it seems you have a visitor…well, two of them in point of fact!" insisted Roger, again shifting back into that fake, formal posh-totty's voice that would have made anyone else think of a certain bucket woman as he indicated his companions, both of whom still seemed to have been left speechless at the sight of Harrison.
"This is a Mrs Minerva McGonagall and a…colleague of hers, a Mr Philip Flitwick."
"Actually, it's Filius," corrected the small man, earning a curt nod from Harrison, who'd seen and heard the tension, if not the disdain shown by Roger when he spoke about the fearsome-looking gentleman, his dislike of anyone who was…different all too well-known.
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Such was one of the reasons there weren't any orphans in the house whose origins might have come from a foreign country, not to mention why there wasn't even a wheelchair-bound orphan, or any who might have been called special by some more-tolerant people.
Curiously, though, Roger had always entertained Harrison's quirks and tics, though the emerald-eyed youth had a feeling that the belief of how he might know something about the two million gone missing from the Millers might have something to do with it.
Roger was as magpie-minded, and tight-fisted, as they came when it came to money, not to mention being a degenerate gambler – who hosted friends only meetings every Tuesday, Thursday and Saturday nights in the old shed out the back of the orphanage, and always snapped at the kids when the horses were running the National, often leaving Roger disappearing into a bottle when his dead-cert lost out.
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Right now, however, Roger continued over Filius' explanations as though as he hadn't heard the correction, "…they are here to discuss your enrolment into some private school your birth parents attended."
"Well I hardly thought they were selling cookies at the door, Roger," argued Harrison dryly, his sarcastic barb and the cavalier way that he used it making Minerva and Filius' eyes widen before Harrison sighed as he said, "Of course, I have been expecting their visit, so, since they made the effort to come here in person, I suppose I can spare an hour or two. At least then, my birthday won't have been a complete waste of time...so why don't you both come in?"
With that, Harrison turned and walked back to his window, where he perched himself on the sill in his preferred position with his back against the window frame's edge and one leg curled to his chest while he also watched the two newcomers walk into the room.
To his bemusement, he saw the man named Flitwick easily climb onto Harrison's bed while McGonagall remained standing, eyeing Harrison's room with interest and a hint of something akin to surprise, if not pain or disbelief.
Once Roger left Harrison to the meeting with his guests –finally, in Harrison's opinion – the young boy looked to McGonagall before he asked, "So, given Roger's xenophobically-driven introduction, I assume I am speaking to one Deputy Headmistress McGonagall of the crudely-named Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry?"
"I am and you are," said Minerva, her thick Scottish brogue earning her a curious look and a small smirk from Harrison as he realised why else Roger had looked so uncomfortable with the two newcomers – after all, he loathed Scots as much as he did Welshmen and Irish, not to mention anyone who didn't speak the Queen's English or use a normal tone of voice in their accent.
"And I must admit myself surprised, both by your location and your rather informal, if, I may say, disrespectful response to your letter, Mr Potter."
"Really?" asked Harrison curiously, a look of feigned shock on his face, "Personally, I thought it sounded rather witty and precise, but if I caused any offence towards you or yours, I apologise, Madam. Now, since you're here with this fierce-looking gentleman, who I assume is a colleague of yours, I gather you're here to give me the extraordinary evidence I requested?"
Minerva blanched in response to Harrison's demeanour, hearing a firm, mature tone that didn't betray his feelings, but neither did it make him sound like what one might call a normal kid.
While she did so, however, Filius cleared his throat before he asked, "You're very well-spoken, Harry Potter…"
"Apologies for my interrupting you, Mister Flitwick, but the name is Harrison," corrected the emerald-eyed youth, earning a curious look from both elders as he explained, "I always hated Harry: so common, so meek and so easy to fool that he even fooled himself into thinking he could be with a family who loved him for who he was and not what he had…"
Here, Minerva visibly shivered while Filius looked on with renewed interest as well as a hint of amusement courtesy of the goblin in him when they heard Harrison chuckle to himself, "Insects! They learned everything has a price…and in the case of betraying my trust and abandoning their true calling, it was a price I graciously accepted, not that anybody else knows that, of course."
"Do you know something? I think even Severus would struggle to both love and hate you, Harrison," retorted Filius, though Harrison seemed to ignore the last part while the goblin teacher went on. "You not only have a strong sense of independent thought; you also do not suffer fools lightly and have a plan in mind for the means to exact revenge without anyone knowing it was you…definitely traits worthy of a Slytherin."
"Slither In?" asked Harrison, sounding out the name with a look of disbelief, "Is that meant to mean something, Flitwick? Also, could you not use my first name as though we're casual acquaintances or, dare I say it, friends?"
This time, Harrison shuddered in a manner that was almost exactly like anyone who said the name Voldemort might shudder as he said the last part before, clearing his throat, he continued, "Sorry, but I really find that word a bitter pill to swallow; anyway, we are not…what I said, so if you'd be so kind, Sir and Madam, it's Mr Potter or, if you must be formal, you may even call me Master Potter."
"Master?" asked Minerva, earning a shrug from Harry.
"What? That's the typical address for an unmarried, pre-adolescent man. Or is that just in whatever century you're from, Countess Crawley?" asked Harrison calmly, though his eyes seemed to have diverted their gaze to the window and the dark view beyond, which meant he didn't see Minerva's eyes widen in rage and shock at his cavalier tone, even when he sounded like he was mocking her.
Harrison, meanwhile, sniffed once before he continued in that calm, dry tone of his, "In any case, I think it shows a very bad sense of intimacy when those who are meant to be teachers are free and willing to act so casual and informal with their students. People might wind up getting the wrong idea of the depths of our relationship, or what you might want with me, wouldn't you agree?"
"I…I daresay he makes a good point," replied Filius, clearing his throat before he added, "My apologies, Mr Potter; now, if we might get back to the matter at hand, we are here in response to your letter to prove that you have…magic."
Here, Harrison gestured for them to continue before he turned when Minerva, drawing her wand, took a breath to calm herself.
"Lumos!"
A white light lit up the end of her wand, but instead of looking impressed, Harrison hummed before he rose from the sill and, walking to a desk next to his bed, he scoffed once as he drawled, "Oh, wow, making light; that's real magic…here, I can do that too, watch: Abracadabra!"
With that, he tapped the base of a lamp that was stood next to his bed, causing it to light up before, tapping it twice, Harrison increased the strength of the glow while making overdramatically-spooky gestures with his hands, "Whoo, look: Great Scott: no hands? No strings? What magic is this, lady and gentlemen? Oh wait…my mistake, it's not magic…it's electricity."
Tapping the lamp once more, Harrison extinguished the light before he turned, "What else have you got?"
"Wingardium Leviosa," replied Filius, having drawn his own wand before he used it to levitate Harrison's favourite book off its spot on the shelf on the far side of the bedroom.
"That's…pretty impressive," agreed Harrison before he reached into his desk drawer and, pulling out a piece of paper, he added, "Now watch as I make this single piece of paper fly in the air: Shazam!"
Here, he blew on the paper, making it hover in the air for as long as he was blowing it up, though he was dimly-aware of Filius chuckling to himself while Minerva seemed to be turning redder and redder with each passing second.
Once Harrison ran out of puff, he drew in a breath before he coughed as he said, "What? No rapturous applause? I guess that wasn't magic either; a simple biological example of the effects of oxygen and carbon dioxide in the lungs being switched around and expelled in the form of a single breath that caused the thermal updraft against the paper…oh, and served as a reminder for me to brush my teeth, so thanks for that, Professor."
"Fine!" snapped Minerva, deciding she'd already had enough with Harrison mocking her – and considering she'd put up with James Potter's hijinks for seven years and the Weasley Twins for two-going-on-three, that was saying something – before, as Harrison turned to her, he raised a single eyebrow when the woman transformed into the form of her feline Animagus.
"Hmm…" remarked Harrison, clicking his tongue, "That's as good as evidence gets today…oh, and you can change at will too? Impressive…"
Minerva did indeed shift back while Harrison was responding to her latest trick.
Once he was done and she was human again, however, the young boy heaved a sigh before he returned to the bedroom window and, perching himself on it again, he clicked his tongue a second time as he looked to the two elders.
"All right, you've got my attention."
"Thank you, Mr Potter," said Filius, earning a curt nod from Harrison, "Can we be sure you'll listen, though? No more mocking remarks or sarcastic barbs? You'll let us explain everything we can about what we're here for?"
"To quote the Bard," replied Harrison, waving his hand in a dramatic, though encouraging gesture, "I am tame, sir. Pronounce."
Clearing her throat in a bid to avoid losing her temper again, as she sensed the faintest hint of mockery in his words, Minerva took a breath before she asked, "Well, to fully help you understand what's going to happen, Mr Potter, I have to ask: have you ever made anything happen? Perhaps when your emotions were in a heightened state like being angry or scared?"
However, if Minerva thought Harrison was going to give her a surprised, stuttered answer, she was in for a shock;
"No."
Minerva was speechless.
Filius was surprised.
Harrison was…bored!
"I'm sorry: is that meant to be a bad thing?" asked Harrison coolly, turning his gaze away from the two professors, "Your starts suggest I should have used magic for some accidental purpose in my childhood, but when I say no, you look like I've just declared you dead on arrival. What's so wrong about not having experienced Accidental Magic in the first place, if that's what you'd call it?"
"It…it is," replied Filius, his shock still evident on his face and the air of surprise in his voice as he explained, "As…as you said, Mr Potter, when they're younger, many witches and wizards…"
"I call them…well, you, Wixen, sir; less chances of being accused of sexism," argued Harrison, earning a faint titter from Filius.
"Gods above and below; there's an expression I've not heard in an age," remarked the goblin professor, again earning a curt nod from Harrison, who suspected he'd scored some more points with the interesting, if not intimidating man.
Filius, meanwhile, continued his explanation as he told the apparently-listening youth, "As I said, many…Wixen experience moments of magical outbursts, mainly whenever they are angry or scared. And, if I may be so bold, knowing the magical strengths of your parents as we did, Professor McGonagall and I are surprised to hear you've never had a single outburst…unless it's possible you blanked it out?"
"Highly improbable, Mister Flitwick," drawled Harry, tapping the side of his head, "I remember everything from the day my loving family decided their satisfaction was more important than a child's welfare to the day my foster family learned the hard way not to underestimate me or what I'm capable of. And that didn't require magic, Professors; simple science added to computerised data and a nice little revenge scheme that involved everything they forced me to learn about covering my tracks and technological interfacing."
Minerva looked like a fish out of water while Filius just looked surprised, his eyes as wide as saucers as, although he didn't understand some of those terms, he did understand enough to realise one thing.
Harrison Potter was clever…perhaps even a genius!
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Forget Slytherin and whatever Severus might have to say.
Speaking as their Head of House, Filius suspected that there would be many Ravenclaws who'd honour and worship him for generations stretching forever and a day once he left Hogwarts with the knowledge he had. His mind must be sharp indeed to have such observational mnemonic skills, not to mention his surprising way with understanding things that he probably wouldn't have had to learn about until he was well into his teenage, if not adult years.
Filius also suspected his siblings in the goblin nation would love Harrison for his keen mind and financial skills, not to mention his intelligence and lack of childish notions when it came to things like wealth, power or respect. He was an individual, a solitary icon in a world of cliques and clichés and someone with a very strong sense of independent thought and solitary confinement to the point where there were only three people Harrison would completely trust.
He, himself and his.
Though, judging by the respectful tone he seemed to show Filius when he spoke to him, the Head of Ravenclaw thought – if not hoped – he might have been added to that very short list of trustees.
Not that he was trying to actually get in with the boy.
Like might attract like, but if what Filius saw was anything to go on, he'd let Harrison make the choices himself.
Only a fool would try and strong-arm him into anything he might not want to be part of.
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Clearing his throat in a bid to try and return himself to the here and now, Filius looked to Harrison before he asked, "So…given what you just said, I…I apologise, but I feel I must ask: do you also remember your toddler years, Mr Potter? Like say…Halloween night, ten years ago?"
"You mean one of the strangest memories I had concerning a green flash, a weird, ominous sensation on my forehead and the whispering voice of my Mother telling me to be safe, strong and know I was loved?" asked Harrison curiously, earning another surprised look from Filius – one that did its best to mask the hurt he felt when Harrison described Lily's last words to her now-orphaned son – while Minerva's eyes darkened as she too was reminded of that dark night.
Harrison, however, took a breath, not even showing a hint of his own feelings about that ill-fated night as his voice stayed cool, calm and collected as he let out a grunt of amusement, "Huh…so you're saying that actually happened; I always wondered if it was real. I mean…really? Remembering a flying motorbike? A giant of a man who looked like something out of Dahl and a green flash that kills on impact? Ludicrous…but now you've told me otherwise, so…you're saying…that was another form of this…magic?"
"Y-y-yes," replied Minerva, her voice wavering with fear as she suddenly realised how cold Harrison sounded about that night.
He sounded so cold that it was like he didn't even care his Mother had died that night, let alone what he'd done himself.
"I see," replied Harrison, lifting himself from the window sill before he looked again to Minerva, "And that flash, what was it?"
"It's known as Avada Kedavra. More-commonly referred to as the Killing Curse," answered Filius, earning a curious look from Harrison while Minerva paled as the goblin teacher explained, "It's a spell so Dark in origin that it is labelled Unforgivable in terms of law and magical class."
"And what, exactly, makes it Dark?" asked Harrison curiously, earning another frightened look from Minerva while Filius' eyes narrowed in genuine interest as Harrison went on, "After all, surely a spell that kills could be used for good as well as evil, can't it? I mean, I assume your world knows what euthanasia is, don't you, Mister Flitwick? Or perhaps you know about the merciful act of putting a long-term-suffering victim out of their misery rather than having to endure pain any further?"
"Mr Potter!" exclaimed Minerva, a note of sheer horror in her words as she asked, "Do you know what you're saying? That curse murdered your parents; no-one survived it…no-one…"
"Except me," drawled Harrison, earning a surprised look from Minerva and Filius. "I told you I remember the green flash and a dark, ominous feeling on my forehead and, between you and me, I always speculated that my scar came from the same place as that memory, but I could never prove it. So, this Killing Curse was cast at an innocent baby who was about as much threat to anyone as a piece of wet tissue paper?"
"That…that sums it up," said Filius, though he was still surprised by Harrison's argument about the nature of Good and Evil as well as the calm demeanour he spoke with when he talked about something that feared, awed and even confounded many people since that day.
"Well," remarked Harrison, shrugging ruefully, "I'd think anyone crazy enough to do that without good reason would need a very long stay in a padded cell, if not a premature meeting with the Reaper, though I hope I wouldn't meet such a figure. After all, I have no desires for revenge and I definitely have no desire to either institute or nurture a death wish, so I'll leave the execution of the world's most dangerous Wixen to the police."
"In our world, they are known as Aurors," said Filius.
"Whatever," drawled Harrison, turning away from the teachers before he added, "As long as they're dead and I'm alive, I don't care what name you give the forces that do the deed. So, now we've established ironclad proof, courtesy of my memories and Professor McGonagall's impressive act of shapeshifting, what happens next, teachers?"
"A-a-actually, you…you and your peers c-c-call us P-Professors," said Minerva, though her voice wavered as she said it, still intimidated and in a state of alarm at the way Harrison talked so calmly and without care for the consequences of his argument.
"We…that is, if you're certain of accepting your place at Hogwarts," explained Filius, speaking up for both of them since he could see Minerva was still struggling to come to terms with what Harrison said. "Then our next port of call would be Diagon Alley, where you will be able to retrieve your possessions for school and we will also help you figure out anything else you'd like to know about Hogwarts or magic."
"Then I suggest you and I go to this alley, Professor Flitwick," insisted Harrison, turning to the goblin before he explained, "Professor McGonagall looks like she might collapse if I give her any more shocks today, so I think it would suit us all for her to return to the school and you and I will go on our little shopping trip. However, if I might offer one bit of advice, Deputy Headmistress?"
"Y-Y-Yes, Mr Potter?" asked McGonagall shakily.
"I recommend soothing herbal tea and scented candles," drawled Harrison, earning a surprised look from Minerva as he told her, "It'll help calm you and keep you centred long enough to deal with the stress of your job. After all, at your age, you want to watch that old heart of yours, otherwise you'll also be on your way to a meeting with the Grim One."
While Minerva looked shocked at the boy's generous, yet sarcastic remark, her eyes narrowed as Harrison looked to them before he continued.
"However, let's get one thing perfectly clear: I'm not coming to Hogwarts for the magic or because of my Mother and Father, because it's physically impossible to want to do anything to make the dead proud or disappoint them."
Filius' eyes widened as he heard this, but Harrison wasn't done.
"And I'm not coming to be some kind of guinea pig to figure out how I did what nobody else did or to be part of any clique or pathetic idea of friendship. I'm not even coming for the knowledge I'll gain from your world."
"Then…why are you coming, Mr Potter?" asked Minerva curiously, earning a cold, un-caring smile from Harrison that didn't even look like he was joking around; instead, it looked more like the smile of a shark smelling blood in the water, especially when his green eyes also shone with the look as he answered the Deputy.
"I'm coming to Hogwarts because, in all honesty, I'm bored!"
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Not for the first time that day was Minerva questioning who, exactly, she was looking at in this strange place.
And not for the first time did she wish she'd never let Albus leave Harry Potter with the Dursleys.
Sorry…she meant to say Harrison Potter!
The revamped second chapter and now Harrison has chosen to go, but for the weirdest reason: question is…is that the reason or does our cryptically-minded Sherlock-like youth have his own agenda?
Also, with Minerva – who loved Lily and James like her own family – and Filius – who saw Lily as his apprentice, if not successor before that dark night – are shocked, how might others, especially any haters of the Potter name, handle this Harrison?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: The obligatory Diagon Alley trip and Harrison makes waves, an impact and an ominous outlook, which comes more for Filius from one who has seen it all and done it all…or so he thinks until he gets a good look at the so-called Boy-Who-Lived
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