Mind Over Magic

Disclaimer: SEE FIRST CHAPTER

Review Answers:

Blcoachmac: I've got a couple of ideas, especially with the BIG revelation made in this chapter…enjoy;

Dennisud: Here's hoping all comes out well in the end;

Alix33: I just love writing small titbits like that; I mean, Harry had to have had some fun before Tom went and ruined everything, right?

"It's strange: most things with magic just come to me, as do most things I've read and experimented with…"

"Intuition," said Hermione, earning a hum from Harrison.

"But working on my Mind Palace, forging it and being able to focus my mind enough to make it how I want it…it seems to evade me somehow, like it's a skill I'm either not ready for…or there's something inside me that…that's stopping me from accessing that potential. I don't know what it may be; and you both know how much I hate saying those words, but whatever it is, it only spurs me on to discover more before I lose control, not just of my own mind, but my own magic as well."

"So, in other words, it's experimenting time," laughed Hermione, earning a groan from Harrison even as the train started slowing down, indicating that the journey back to Hogwarts was nearing its end.

And the new and improved future of the Hogwarts Trio was about to begin.

"Hermione, surely even you remember me telling Master Flitwick not to tempt me with that word…but also…yeah!"

Chapter 14: I Desire Nothing But The Truth

For the first few days, Harrison seemed to get back to whatever passed for normal with him, which involved him using his natural talents to keep hold of his place as one of the top students of his year, as well as spending a fair amount of time in the Chamber of Pride with both friends and mentors alike – mostly Filius and, in their Potions lessons, Doctor Crane – and, aside from the occasional conversation with his classmates, he was found spending most of his time in the company of Neville or Hermione.

As much as she wanted to believe her friend was all right, however, Hermione felt uneasy.

She'd known Harrison's demeanour long enough, in a manner of speaking, to know there was something bothering him.

When he wasn't spending time with them or their classmates, he was shut up in his room, the door locked to everyone, but him and, even when Neville and Hermione went into the Common Room, they found themselves unable to reach Harrison.

Personally, this worried Hermione.

Yes, Harrison had really come out of his shell over the holidays and started to accept he could be a regular, normal kid, but now they were back at Hogwarts, it was like he'd done like a turtle and retreated back into his shell, closing every door to him and hiding all the world from him, which was a cheesy thought because it made Hermione think of a certain musical.

Still, that didn't stop her from worrying.

MoM

One evening, not long after they'd returned to school, Hermione was in the Chamber studying quietly on her own while Neville had gone to look up information for Herbology homework. As for Harrison, he was where he was usually be found; in his room, behind a locked door without any means of getting through to him.

As Hermione read through another page in her copy of the Mystica, however, her eyes widened when she heard the lock on Harrison's door open before her best friend stepped out, dressed in his Hogwarts robes and wearing what had to be the biggest smile on his face since…ever.

"Harrison?" asked Hermione, earning a curious look from Harrison, though he didn't stop smiling, which made Hermione just as curious, but also secretly-relieved, if not content to see that her friend could look normal. "What's wrong? You look like you lost a penny and found a goldmine."

"Oh, I've found more than a goldmine, Hermione; nice euphemism, by the way," added Harrison, earning another curious look from Hermione as he sounded genuinely pleased, not to mention friendly in terms of his attitude.

Before she could ask him what he was thinking, or what he'd found out, however, Hermione let out a gasp as Harrison actually vaulted over the back of the sofa she was sitting on, parking himself next to her while he rubbed his hands together with childish glee as he added, "Compared to a goldmine, what I've found might as well be El Dorado itself!"

"What do you mean?"

Looking up at his friend, Harrison's smile seemed to widen while his green eyes shone brighter than ever as he answered, "I think…I'm pretty sure I've finally found the answer to a dilemma about my skills, which has been bothering me since day one, but even moreso since Halloween!"

Again, Hermione gasped while, as Harrison's smile was all she saw, she turned her head suddenly when she heard the portrait hole opening, but she needn't have bothered looking. Apart from her and the master of the dorm, meaning Harrison, there were only two others who could make their way into the Chamber of Pride willingly and without being stopped by whatever magic kept unwelcome visitors out.

One was Professor Flitwick and the other was the young man who, on this occasion, was the one to walk through the portrait hole, a look of relief on his face that turned into abject disbelief as he gulped before he asked, "Hermione…is it my imagination or is Harrison…is he…smiling?"

"Like the Cheshire Cat," replied Harrison, gesturing to a nearby chair, "Come and sit down, Neville; you might as well be a part of this conversation too. Oh, this is brilliant! I can't believe the answer was right in front of me the whole time; gods, I swear to Rowena and all other deities of wisdom; for such a smart guy, I can be such a blind idiot sometimes, but if you tell anyone I said that, I'll deny it."

"All right, calm down," said Hermione, though she couldn't help but smile at the excitable, normal-kid nature of her best friend; neither could Neville, who sat down on the nearest chair to his two friends while Hermione risked putting a hand on Harrison's shoulder, though when he didn't react, she heaved a sigh of relief as she asked, "Why don't you start at the beginning, Harrison?"

"Well, first, I think it would be ideal for you to let me repeat myself for Neville's sake," argued Harrison, looking from a bemused Hermione to a curious, but still-bewildered Neville, "It's taken me as much free time as I can manage, for which I can only apologise if either of you have been worried I relapsed into my dark and broody side."

"What can we say? After putting up with it for this long, we've grown used to it," drawled Neville, earning a scoff from Harrison.

"Cute, but, anyway, that's not the point," continued the excitable young sorcerer, once again rubbing his hands together, "No, the point is that, after weeks of wondering, more theories than you can wave a wand at and silent moments of thought and exploration, I think I finally have a strong belief that I have finally found out exactly how I've never had any Accidental Magic outbursts…and have such a natural affinity with non-verbal magic, as I do from what we all saw in my bout with Draco."

This time, Neville was the one who gasped, his eyes as wide as saucers while, as Harrison let out an amused, if not slightly-crazed laugh, both Neville and Hermione couldn't help but think to the day in question…

Flashback Start

"Is that the best you can do?"

The fact that Harrison managed to say that without flinching, stuttering from the pain or gasping with the strain on his lungs after the slashing curse had hit him left more than half the Great Hall speechless, while many more, including Draco and Snape, looked alarmed as they saw Harrison lift his head, his green eyes just as devoid of emotion as before as he asked, "Is that how you're going to make me yield? A little paper cut?"

Then, to the alarm of the students, and the horror of both Draco and Severus, Harrison took a step forwards, his blood still dripping down his chest and body while his hand tightened its hold on his wand.

"Stop!" exclaimed Severus, his smugness now a look of abject disbelief, if not terror, as he noticed the rate of the blood flow from Harrison's wounds increasing with each step, "Your body can't handle it, Potter: just stop; just yield!"

"What? To you?" asked Harrison, shaking his head as he added, "For what? If you think this is pain, you have no idea what you're doing, not that you ever do, Snape. Nice spell, by the way; one of your own design, I imagine?"

Severus was left alarmed as Harrison lifted a hand and, to the shock – and slight embarrassment – of several students, including his only female friend, Harrison ripped what was left of his robe from his chest, letting it fall, leaving him bare-chested, though they could all see the wounds bleeding freely as Harrison sighed.

"Do you know something? I think that was my favourite robe."

"You…you're insane!" snapped Severus, watching as Harrison looked up at him.

"No, I'm not," argued Harrison, flicking his wand once before he added, "I'm a wizard, Snape; a real, genuine, only wizard whose name is Harrison, while my middle name is James and my surname is Potter. And do you know what else I am?"

Suddenly, a powerful blast of magic flew from Harrison's wand, sending Draco flying back as the spell's power hit him.

"Pissed!"

However, while the blonde fell to the ground, just short of his Head of House, Harrison kept coming; his eyes never left Draco's as he lifted his wand again, its tip glowing with a terrifyingly-familiar green glow as he aimed it at Draco.

However, before anyone could say anything, Lucius got there first.

Drawing his wand, he exclaimed, "YIELD! House Malfoy yields, Potter! Do you hear me? We yield!"

"Oh no, Malfoy Senior; as are the terms of combat between this little boy and yours truly, he has to say it!" said Harrison before everyone gasped as, instead of the deadly-fatal green flash they'd all expected, what looked like a long, thick whip of green magic emerged from Harrison's wand, slithering forwards like a serpent before, to the shock of the students, Harrison lashed the whip, cracking it against the ground.

"Say it!"

"Ne…AHHHH!" Screamed Draco as the whip lashed his cheek, but instead of shedding blood or leaving a burn mark, the crack of the whip seemed to electrify Draco, causing his blond hair to stand on end while his eyes widened with horror.

"How…how's he doing this?" demanded Snape, looking now to Dumbledore as he exclaimed, "No first-year, especially not Potter should be this strong! How's he still standing?"

"To the second, it's easy when you've endured what I have," argued Harrison, cracking the whip again as he added, "And as to the first, as I thought would be obvious to even your lowly attempts to call yourself a professional, Snape, unlike your one-trick pony, broken record brat, some of us have spent time studying, honing our skills and discovering things that are surprising, but intriguing. For example, did you know we Potters have quite the strong affinity with wandless and non-verbal magic, particularly anything of the elemental variety?"

As though proving his point, Harrison snapped his wand across Draco, cutting a hole in the blond's perfected Slytherin robe, while Draco bawled like a baby as his opponent went on, "According to Master Flitwick, my Father, the much-better wizard of his generation, certainly better than any, as one of my peers in Gryffindor would put it, greasy slimy snake, was quite adept at Earth-based magic, especially when it came to Duelling and Transfiguration; did you know that, Professor McGonagall?"

Minerva could only nod in reply, while Harrison cracked the whip again, this time causing Draco to squeal as the emerald-eyed scion caught him on his rear, while Draco tried and failed to crawl away.

"Well, going on that skill, I looked into my own strengths and…would you believe it? Like this none-too-flattering scar on my brow, I have quite the affinity with lightning-based magic; now whether that means fire, air or even plasma, I don't yet know, but, realising this, I asked my mentor to give me a list of appropriate spells I could use to…hmm…tame a dragon?"

A few titters filled the room, while Harrison scoffed, "Godric forgive me, I think I just actually made a joke; oh well, it's a special occasion."

"Stop this!" cried Severus, earning a shake of the head from Harry. "Look at yourself, Potter: if you don't stop, you'll bleed to death!"

"After being hit with your curse, you mean?" asked Harrison, earning a horrified gasp from the staff and many of the students while the Gryffindors started booing and jeering again, crying out for punishments and retribution even as Harrison went on, "I saw your expression, Snivellus! I know you were the one responsible for that curse and Draco knowing it. You'd do anything to silence me, and to be able to polish your ego so well it shines like the sun, but guess what?"

Here, he cracked the whip again, causing Draco to scream as another volt of lightning hit him courtesy of the magic empowering said whip while Harrison roared like the tickled dragon woken, "You LOSE! And since you wanted to tickle the sleeping dragon, despite all arguments insisting you let it go and get over your impotent pissing contest with a dead man, here's my answer…another from the better teacher."

Looking down at Draco, Harrison's eyes actually seemed to harden in their glare, his voice low and ominous as he growled, "You spend all that time trying to make me believe we should be…friends…Malfoy?"

Neville and Hermione shared worried looks as Harrison used the word they knew he still hated, much less against someone who wasn't even as close to Harrison as they were – meaning as peers, if not companions.

Harrison, meanwhile, smiled.

A cold, viciously-driven, shark-like smile that, combined with his scarred, bloody chest, only made the situation worse, for Draco.

"Why don't you…prove it?"

A shiver passed through the hall as Harrison lifted his wand and, twirling it in a motion that only one person in the hall recognised, he gave the command for his final spell.

"Protego Diabolica."

"HARRY! FOR THE LOVE OF MERLIN, SHOW HIM SOME MERCY! THINK ABOUT WHAT YOUR PARENTS WOULD SAY!"

Harrison didn't even bother to make the automatic reply to Dumbledore's cry, much less respond to the barb aimed at his family.

Instead, he watched with what could have been described as being a much-colder, more-predatory thousand-yard-stare than he normally showed as emerald-green flames – ironically the same colour as Harrison's lightning whip and the curse that had made him famous in the first place – flew from Harrison's wand, where they slithered around the cowering, wounded blond, who gasped in terror as those flames encircled him, cutting off any and all access to his Father, his godfather or even the ability to flee.

"The Flames of the Soul," said Harrison, lowering his wand as he explained, "Once made infamous by Gellert Grindelwald himself, but also both a test and a protection against one's enemies. If you can walk through the fire, it proves your intentions are pure and you are a friend and ally to the caster, but if not…well then, you're an enemy and, as some very misguided, money-grubbing, egotistical Muggles learned years ago, there is only one fate I have for my enemies…"

"So," said Harrison, gesturing to the ring of fire, "You want, so badly, to have me think of you as someone I can call…that word…and be as close up your derriere as the rest of your sheep, do you, Draco? Here's your chance to prove it: walk through the fire, show me that Draco Malfoy is someone I should call my associate and someone out for my wellbeing…show me my power is nothing compared to you…if you reach me, walking through the fire, I'll throw down my wand and hand you the victory…if not? Well…it is Halloween…"

Another shudder filled the room as Harrison shrugged dismissively, not even bothering to care about what Draco, or anyone else, had to say.

But, since he'd already declared that every spell, bar the Unforgivables – which, as even Malfoy Senior knew, Protego Diabolica was not one of them, and not even his influences would mean anything after this – was accepted in this duel, it was also clear he was playing for keeps.

"Come on, dragon…" growled Harrison, lifting his wand before he added, "Need a little help? Here!"

The flick of his wand caused the circle to close in, earning horrified cries from the crowd.

However, over their cries, one voice screamed like a Banshee wailing in the cold, dark stillness of the night.

"YIELD!" Screamed Draco as Harrison, throwing his wand over the top of the ring of fire for emphasis as he cried, "Hear me? I yield, Potter: you win! Please…no more…please, I…I beg you! Just…just please lower the fire! You…you've won! I won't bother you again: I swear it on the honour of my House…on my magic…please!"

"Listen to him, Harrison," said Filius, his voice still amplified while he also wondered where and how his student could still be standing, much less how and why he could go to such a dark place following such a cruel attempt to knock him down in the first place.

When Harrison's eyes looked to his mentor, Filius held his hands up as he explained, "The duel is over: Mr Malfoy has surrendered to you. You've won the bout! Your honour is appeased, your legacy is untainted and your soul burns as brightly as these flames; now…my friend…my student; let the fire burn out and then allow us to tend to your wounds…just let it go…let go…"

"Finite Totalum," whispered Harrison, dowsing the fire with a wave of his wand, before he took a deep breath as he looked to Snape.

"He was no dragon...fire cannot kill a dragon," muttered Harrison, earning a few shudders at the cool, apathetic air he once again used as he said those words before, clearing his throat, he then looked to Snape.

"Next time, come at me yourself, Snape; at least you are someone I can kill if you drive me to it…but don't ever think you've beaten me. Compared to what I've had to endure in ten years, a pathetic little baby like you isn't even worth any more of my time…"

Then, as a gold light surrounded Harrison, as though magic had declared him the victor with Filius' decree, the emerald-eyed scion hit the floor, his blood now pooling around him, while his wand smoked from the fury of the magic wielded by its master.

Flashback End

While Hermione shuddered with dread, courtesy of the memory of the duel in question, Neville swallowed hard as he asked, "So…how did you manage to figure out the truth behind it, Harrison?"

"By doing the one thing I've avoided doing since discovering my magical nature," replied Harrison, taking a long, deep breath while he looked up to Neville with a much-calmer air about him, "I looked back."

"Huh?" asked Neville.

Hermione, however, let out a gasp, "Your memories? You keep saying you never forget anything…so…are you saying you actually used that gift and revisited some of your memories from the past?"

"Not literally," answered Harrison, looking from a stunned Neville to a curious and surprised Hermione as he explained, "Such feats require the aid of a Pensieve or the aid of a Master Legilimens, neither of which I possess despite the strength of my mind. But you're on the right track, Hermione: I did consider some of my memories…in fact, I considered one memory in particular."

Suddenly, a dark look crossed Neville's face, but rather than show concern for it, Harrison nodded slowly as he added, "Yes, Neville: that memory."

"Which one?" asked Hermione, looking from one boy to the other.

"The night his parents died," answered Neville, earning a shocked, if not horrified gasp from Hermione as Neville cleared his throat as he looked back to Harrison, "You always denied yourself the right to look back because you refused to be a mere shadow of them, but now…I mean, is it because you remember me? Or is it because of the gift that Hagrid sent you for Christmas?"

"In a way, it's both," replied Harrison coolly, linking his hands together while he stared deep into the hearth, "But, at the same time, despite all our theories and speculations, it wasn't until I saw those pictures and received the generous gift from Daniel and Emma that I asked myself a question none of us have ever done."

Suddenly, the Knut dropped for Hermione while Neville took a little longer, though when Hermione voiced the thought, he got it too.

"Have you ever tapped into that power before?"

Snapping his fingers in Hermione's direction in a way that showed she was bang-on, Harrison's lips twitched in amusement as he went on, "So, I let myself finally wonder about my past, especially since, back when I first met them, Professors McGonagall and Flitwick asked me if I'd ever had an Accidental Magical outburst and, when I answered no, they looked like they'd just been told I was dead!"

"That's because the majority of magical children do have Accidental Magic outbursts at one time or another," insisted Neville, earning a slow nod from Harrison before Neville swallowed hard, "It's how most even know their kids have magic in the first place and, sometimes, the ways they get them to reveal it can be…pretty barbaric, if not borderline-traumatic at times."

"My guess is you're speaking from experience," said Harrison, earning a shrug from Neville while Harrison sniffed, "My point is, Neville, I never had any Accidental Magic outbursts when I was a kid and yet, as we've seen, not to blow my own trumpet, but I do have quite the arsenal under my belt when it comes to power…and yet, not one time, not even with…them…did I ever have an outburst."

Suddenly, Harrison's head snapped up as he stated in a flat, but fiercely-determined tone, "Not one I remember!"

"So…why go back to that night?" asked Neville.

Looking to Neville, Harrison took a deep breath before he licked his lips nervously as he explained, "Because, while I do remember the flash of the Avada Kedavra and my Mother's death at the hands of Lord Voldemort, it wasn't until I revisited that particular memory, by going into a trance and meditating for a good long while…"

"That's why you locked the door," realised Hermione, earning a nod from Harrison, "Why didn't you tell us? If we'd known you were meditating, we wouldn't have tried to disturb you, Harrison."

"Given what he was focusing on remembering, can you blame him?" asked Neville, earning a blush from Hermione before Harrison cleared his throat, reminding the other two he was still talking. "Sorry, Harrison: you were saying."

"Although I remembered him killing her, her last words to me and the Avada Kedavra," explained Harrison, swallowing hard himself while his face suddenly gained a smile that was both surprising and a little scary as he looked to his friends. "I realised that I had no memory of what happened when the curse hit me…or what happened before I remember Hagrid retrieving me from my parents' home in Godric's Hollow."

While both Gryffindors were stunned into absolute silence, Neville opened his mouth to speak, but when the words failed him, he closed his mouth again, frowning in confusion before, to his relief, Hermione asked what he was thinking.

"And that makes you act like a kid hopped up on caffeine and as crazed as a laughing hyena…why, Harrison?"

"It's a clue," said Harrison, looking to Hermione, "Like I said, I believe I've found the answer, but to be sure of it, I have to find a way to unlock those lost memories, to find out why I can't remember that moment…or if there were any others like it. Because then, if I can find out the truth…"

"You can begin to control that power."

Looking up suddenly, Harrison's eyes widened while Hermione gasped when she saw Professor Flitwick standing there, a look of awe in his eyes while he held up his hands, "My apologies for not announcing my presence, Mr Potter, but I couldn't help but overhear the end of your conversation. And, although you may decline it, if I could offer one small piece of advice to you."

"Of course, Master," said Harrison.

"Be sure you want to know what is lost," replied Filius, a note of caution in his voice, "If you really cannot remember that tragic night, be prepared for anything. So, before you pursue this course of action, be absolutely certain that you're ready for what you may find because, for one with a mind as sharp as yours, what is remembered cannot be so easily forgotten again."

As Harrison stared blankly, he took a breath before he asked, "So…is there something we can help you with, sir?"

"Actually, I was coming to have a meeting between Head of House and student regarding your worries and dilemmas as of late, Harrison," replied Filius, earning a curt nod from the young boy before the Ravenclaw/Harrison's Head of House waved his hand dismissively as he went on. "But now I know what your mind has been focused on, I see no reason for such a discussion. However, if I might be so bold, it is nice to see you opening up more to your friends, young man."

"After what they helped me realise and do, how can I not, sir?" asked Harrison calmly, sniffing once before he rose from his seat, "Now, if you'll excuse me, I'm going to see if I can clear my head before this evening's feast: see you two down there?"

When Hermione and Neville nodded in response, Harrison made his way out the portrait hole, leaving the other two alone with Professor Flitwick.

After only a moment, however, the goblin-blooded teacher looked to Hermione before, offering her a friendly smile, he explained, "I don't know what happened this Christmas, Miss Granger, and until he is ready to share, I don't want to know. But whatever you and Mr Longbottom did, thank you."

"We were there for him," said Hermione calmly, her mind still reeling from Harrison's revelation as she told him, "Also, he probably wouldn't want me saying this, but my parents have offered to open their home to him so that…so he doesn't have to go back where he was over the summer."

"Good," replied Filius, nodding as he looked to Hermione, "I'll be sure to have any mail for him sent to your address, Miss Granger, but if you can do one thing for an old soul…then please, keep a close eye on him."

"Always," said Neville, though Hermione also nodded in agreement.

Though not before she also frowned as she looked to the entrance as a realisation hit her.

MoM

Harrison had given them a clue as to why he'd been so closed off lately.

But he hadn't said exactly what it was that he'd found.

Did that mean he was still looking?

Or did it mean he was worried what they'd think if and when he decided to open up and share it with them?

MoM

The answers were there…they were practically within his grasp…at last, he would understand what happened and what he was really capable of.

Even though emotions weren't really all that common to him, Harrison couldn't help but feel as giddy as a schoolboy as he made his way through the ever-amazing halls of Hogwarts. He walked with such a skip in his step that he almost seemed to leap from one step to the next while he felt like he actually had a great weight lifted off of his shoulders.

Once he had the answers, he would finally know his own greatest secret and then…then…well, okay, so maybe he didn't know what was going to happen next, but after waiting so long for answers, who cares?

If what he'd read…if what he'd seen…if what he had been able to perceive in that never-ending sea of memories deep within his subconscious had been right; if what he'd read was truth and that had anything to do with what he was capable of.

Merlin help them…especially Him…

'If this is right,' thought Harrison, clenching his fists as he mused, 'I'm going to make sure that, next time, I'm ready for you…Voldemort! Then, maybe, at last, I can finally have some peace in my life without people trying to make me something I'm not.'

As Harrison smiled at the thought of finally having answers that had eluded him long before he'd become a wizard, let alone a member of Hogwarts student body, he stopped suddenly when a reflection of light caught his eyes.

Looking in the direction of the light, Harrison was slightly bemused to find a door that was ajar, but just beyond the gap in the door, standing at the end of what seemed to be an empty, random classroom or storage room was an ornate-looking mirror. Doubling back, Harrison looked around, making sure he wasn't being watched, before he slipped inside and examined the mirror.

It was pretty big in terms of size and looked as old as the hills; the frame was as ornate as the age suggested, though as Harrison took in the intricate detailing in the framework, his eyes narrowed when he noticed some unusual writing engraved above the mirror's top.

Erised stra ehru oyt ube cafru oyt on wohsi

"That's interesting," mused Harrison, eyeing the writing as though it was a new piece of a puzzle that needed solving, "What language is that?"

Suddenly, it was like the letters had leapt off the framework and were hovering in front of Harrison's eyes. In a weird, but funny way, he felt like he could reach out and rearrange them in any way he so wished, allowing him to identify their source, their language of origin and comparing them to known expressions or images. (1)

As he worked through the possibilities, however, Harrison's eyes narrowed suddenly, "Hold on…these letters…dear Godric; could it be so simple?"

Spinning his hands around, he flipped the words around in his mind's eye until, letting out an amused snort, Harrison dismissed the pretend image of the words with a wave of his hand.

"I show not your face, but your heart's desire? Intriguing to say the least."

Looking down from the mirror's frame, Harrison stared into the mirror itself, but as soon as he did so, his eyes widened and his heart stopped dead in its tracks when he saw the image in the mirror change right before his eyes.

Where once, there'd been just him, now, Harrison saw himself as a much-older wizard, draped in robes of finery, but he wasn't alone. With him was a small cluster of shrouded, slightly-blurred images, save for one whom was standing proudly at his side whom Harrison recognised even though she looked as old as he did.

Hermione Granger, his best friend and his inspiration to let himself be a kid, was standing right there next to him.

Looking back to his older self, Harrison's eyes narrowed, "What are you trying to show me? My heart's desire is…what? A future? Companionship? To be the greatest and have the world follow me and walk in my shadow?"

As he looked at the images, Harrison smirked before he rolled his eyes, "What a joke…if it was so easy to obtain my heart's desire, I'd have done it years ago when I sent my enemies to their own ruin…"

As he said the last bit, Harrison's head snapped up as he thought he heard something creak behind him.

Without turning, the young boy smiled, "But then again, maybe this is exactly what I need to see to be the real me and not just who I think I am."

Turning away from the mirror, Harrison folded his arms as he looked at the source of what he'd thought he had heard behind him.

"At least, that's what you want me to realise, isn't that right, Headmaster?"

Albus Dumbledore looked like he'd been shot point-blank through the heart, though as he looked into Harrison's eyes, the aged Headmaster let out a sigh before he looked to the mirror and back to his young student.

"Harrison, I think it's time we have that talk now."

For a long moment, which seemed to drag out into an hour and more, Harrison was silent, stone-faced and remarkably-calm, even though he'd just been told it was time for him to know what he wanted to know about for a long time now…and he wasn't just talking about since the day he'd first had the honour of meeting Dumbledore himself.

Taking a slow breath, Harrison looked back to the mirror before, sniffing once, he said, "You put this here."

"I did."

"Why?" asked Harrison, looking at his reflection while, at the same time, doing what he could to ignore the tempting and very interesting revelations held in his reflection. "Is it a trap?"

"It is."

"For me?"

"No."

At that last response, Harrison turned back to Dumbledore, one eyebrow raised in curiosity, "Did you mean for me to find it?"

"Yes…and no," replied Dumbledore, looking past Harrison for a moment. "In order to explain such things, you'll answer me one question, Harrison."

"If I can."

Moving to stand next to his student and charge, Dumbledore took a breath before he looked into the mirror, "Do you realise what this mirror does?"

"It shows one their heart's desire," replied Harrison calmly, looking to the mirror before he took a breath as he continued with a response that even Dumbledore would later admit was well thought-out.

"But to suggest such a thing is possible; that's an oxymoron because, for example, the happiest person in the world could look into the mirror and only see themselves exactly as they are. Therefore, what it really shows us is the deepest, most desperate of desires in our hearts, either in a bid to encourage, disgust or, possibly, drive one insane with the thought of obtaining said desire, whatever the cost."

"Five points to Gryffindor," replied Dumbledore, a note of amusement in his voice, "And, you're right: this mirror offers neither knowledge nor truth and, as you said, men have wasted away staring at it…even gone mad. However, this brings me to the question you raised, regarding a trap."

"One not meant for me, according to you," said Harrison, earning a nod from Dumbledore, "So does that mean you are my ally as you claimed to be when you gave me what was rightfully mine to begin with, even though you went and claimed it was a gift, which is, again, wrong, because it was a gift meant to be given to the original owner…or rather, his heir, meaning yours truly?"

"I am, and I did mean every word," replied Dumbledore, taking a breath before, removing his spectacles, he rubbed at his nose before returning his glasses to his face. "I can understand your scepticism given the mistakes I have made in the past, as well as the lack of trust I have earned from you; and I suppose, given your cautionary nature, you've also had your cloak checked for…hidden surprises?"

"Yup…but you needn't worry: Master Flitwick returned it to me within forty-eight hours, saying it was clean," said Harrison, earning an amused chuckle from the Headmaster while Harrison's lips twitched in amusement, "Of course, if I had found any surprises, you can bet your pension that I would have made sure you knew what me disappointed looked like, you do realise that, don't you, Headmaster?"

"I do and I would not have blamed you for seeking retribution," agreed Dumbledore, a note of humour in his words while he cleared his throat as he went on, "However, contrary to what you assume, my boy, I am not here to be your enemy or lead you down a path you do not wish to walk. Not just because of the circumstances with your Sorting or the skill you demonstrated on Halloween Night, which I assume you've been looking into."

"And found a few theories, but nothing concrete, yes," finished Harrison, folding his arms before, turning away from the mirror, he walked across the room towards the back wall where, placing a hand against the cool, stone, he sniffed once, "But that's not what I want to talk about, Headmaster: you said it's time for the talk, which, as you know, is the only topic I want to discuss: my former place of residence with magic-hating relatives and everything else that happened to me since then."

As Dumbledore nodded, he cleared his throat, "Then, if I might offer a comforting suggestion, Harrison: perhaps we could adjourn to my office? If you wish Filius or your friends there, I will send them a message and they can meet us."

"I'd appreciate that," replied Harrison honestly, though he didn't sound like it.

Then again, it was Harrison, so such attitudes were normal, especially around anyone he didn't trust.

MoM

Ten minutes later, a solemn, but curious-looking Harrison, as well as Neville, Hermione and a curious, but also-relieved Professor Flitwick gathered in the office of Albus Dumbledore, the familiar sights, sounds and smells – as Harrison noted when he smelled burning that indicated Dumbledore's phoenix had just gone through a Burning Day – helping relax Harrison, but not enough that he dropped his guard.

Instead, looking away from the Headmaster while he examined the small, mottled-looking chick, "Well, Headmaster? Where do you want to start?"

"Before I start," replied Dumbledore, looking away from Harrison as he directed his next words at the three others with them. "I must ask that you each give me your word, without magic involved that you will not speak of what I'm about to reveal to anyone. Not your friends, family members or even your peers; what is said in this room stays between the five of us…and yes, Filius, I am also asking you as Harrison's mentor and Master."

"Then, as you should be aware, as Harrison's Master, I am bound by confidentiality vows anyway, Albus, but, regardless, if it will put your mind at ease and give us all some more neutral airs in here, you have my word," said Filius, looking once to his student, "However, if you ever need to discuss what we're about to learn, Harrison, my door will be open to you."

"Thank you, sir," said Harrison; when Neville and Hermione also gave their words and added that Harrison could also come to them if he needed to talk, the young sorcerer finally pulled himself away from the chick to return to his friends and the old man with them.

As he did so, Harrison looked to Filius as he added, "Also, if this goes the way I think it does, Master, I think the time will also be right for me to start my full apprenticeship under you, sir. But, for now, just know your trust is appreciated, as is your honour.

Filius quickly wiped a tear from his eye, while Harrison took a seat, which put him between his friends before he asked, "So where do we start|?"

"Where all good explanations, start, Harrison, at the beginning," replied Dumbledore, drawing his wand from his robe before, flicking it, he conjured a tray of treats and drinks for everyone, "And while we talk, help yourselves to nibbles and refreshments: after all, you're here, so you're missing dinner and I'd hate to deny growing boys and girls of their food."

While the trio thanked the Headmaster for his generosity, Harrison reminded Dumbledore to keep on topic as he cleared his throat before he took a breath as he asked in a cool tone, "Tell you what, Headmaster: how about we do it like this as a sort of compromise between us? I'll ask you what I want to know and you give me answers. However, if I suspect you're holding back, I'm out that door and you will never get an olive branch extended to you again, deal?"

Nodding once, Dumbledore wiped a stray tear from his eye, a part of him wondering exactly how someone as sweet and innocent as Harrison used to be when he was a baby could be so like Tom, but not Tom at the same time – as was evident by the warmth and trust shown between friends, teachers and, even if only cautiously, if not reluctantly, Albus Dumbledore himself – before he replied, "You have a deal, Harrison. Of course, after today, if I pass your test, if there is anything more you would like to know about, you may ask me and send your lovely owl my way."

Harrison just hummed in response before, clicking his tongue once, he asked, "Okay, so we'll start with the big one: why did my parents die?"

Even Neville looked surprised by Harrison's frankness while, at the same time, Hermione's skin paled in fear and worry.

At the same time, Albus looked somewhere between troubled and with an expression similar to one who'd known something like that would be first on the young man's list of queries. Still, he was reminded that he had promised to tell the truth and tell Harrison what he wanted to know and, small though it was right now, Albus knew he needed to find a way to open the door so he could try and redeem the mistakes of the past by helping Harrison achieve his ideal future.

Especially if the boy had figured out what Albus' own, private, investigations into Harrison James Potter's potential had also discovered.

Biting his lower lip, the old man cleared his throat before he spoke, "First, and I advise you to listen very carefully when I tell you this, dear children: what you are about to learn is not common knowledge. Nor is it the sort of thing I would expect to burden eleven-and-twelve-year-old minds with so early in their development…however, Harrison, you have asked for the truth and I will give it."

Here, Dumbledore indicated a surprised-looking Neville, "At the same time, I confess that it is both fortunate and unfortunate that you are one of the few he trusts, Mr Longbottom, because, and I am sorry to admit this now, but what I have to tell Harrison also concerns you…in a small way."

Suddenly, Neville's expression could have matched the dark look Harrison had at Christmas.

One of dread, dislike and memories he would much rather forget if he could, while his voice was low and edged by nervousness and suspicion.

"My…my parents' attacks?"

"Exactly," said Albus, linking his hands together while he cleared his throat again, tugging at his collar like there was a lump lodged there, "You see, shortly before the two of you were born, I was interviewing candidates for the role of Professor in one of the electives you can opt to take as OWL and NEWT subjects in your third year: Divination."

"Which sounds as silly as one believing their heart's desire is so easily-achieved as turning a mouse into a matchbox, Headmaster, with all due respect," argued Harrison coolly, shrugging before he explained, "I might not know much about the subject in question, but the art of Divination, revolving around fortunes, fate and the idea of Seers and the Gift could only really be taught to those born into such things…right?"

"I suppose," agreed Dumbledore, looking now to Harrison, "However, at the moment in time where this explanation takes place, I was interviewing a…shall we say…shady character who didn't appear to possess much in the way of The Gift. However, she is a direct descendant of one of the most-powerful and most world-renowned Seers in history, so I was tempted to give her a chance; unfortunately, as you suspect, she didn't seem too keen to demonstrate her talents, so I was prepared to let her go."

Here, Dumbledore's eyes darkened with pain and sorrow, "That was when it happened: as I was about to deliver the sad news, this applicant…our own Professor Sybil Trelawney went into a trance. She seemed to be pitching a fit and, at the same time, there was this intense magical air about her that drew me in again…and that was when she said it."

Pausing to take a long draught from a goblet of lemon juice, Dumbledore cleared his throat before he took a deep breath as he recited the very thing Harrison wanted to hear.

The truth…

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches.

Born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies.

And the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not.

And either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives.

The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies.

As he finished his recitation, Dumbledore looked up in time to see Harrison had gone very still, his posture was tense while his green eyes had a glow about them that had never been there before, not even when he'd fought with Draco. Next to him, however, Neville appeared to have gone a sickly shade of pale, his eyes wide and his pupils like black dots in his face as he took in what the Headmaster had just told them.

After only a moment, however, Harrison was the first to break the silence

"Voldemort…he came after them…because of this…"

"Yes," said Dumbledore sadly, a part of him aware of a troubled, terrified look in the eyes of Miss Hermione Granger while Filius looked somewhere between angry and saddened, though he seemed more concerned by the state of mind his protégé was in.

As Harrison drew in a slow, surprisingly-calm breath, however, he looked once to Neville, "Your birthday…it's the same time as mine."

"The day before," said Dumbledore, earning another suspicious look from Harrison while Neville was still white, though his expression looked like he was switching between rage, pain, sorrow and hatred as he glared daggers at Dumbledore. "You, on the other hand, Harrison, were born at seven minutes to midnight on July thirty-first, nearly twelve years ago now. Your parents had also confronted and survived Voldemort's wrath on three separate occasions, including an attempt to coerce them into siding with him and an attempt on your Mother's life while she was pregnant with you."

"Marked as his equal…" whispered Harrison, a note of amusement in his voice, "That wouldn't be the scar on my brow, would it?"

"It's possible," replied Dumbledore, a note of worry in his voice as he took a shaky breath, "However, as you've likely figured out by now, Harrison, this prophecy was leaked to Voldemort, who decided, as we have speculated, that you were his target. As a result, your parents were forced into hiding, using a complex and very powerful charm known as the Fidelius Charm."

"Albus!" hissed Filius suddenly, his voice edged by a note of sheer disbelief and horror, "Are you seriously telling me you put the fates of Lily and James in the hands of one person when even I know the wards at the ancestral homestead of the Potters could have kept a nest of rampaging dragons out, let alone him! Are you honestly telling me that?"

"I am…and I am saddened to admit it, Harrison, but this was but the first of the mistakes I made to cause you…whatever traumas have led to you being the way you are today," replied Dumbledore, a lone tear rolling down his cheek while he took a breath as he went on.

"You see, at the time, we had many candidates for the Secret Keeper, but not a lot of time to decide, given the fact that Lord Voldemort had stepped up his assaults, resulting in the deaths of the Bones family, save young Susan, whom is a Hufflepuff and niece to Director Bones of the DMLE in the Ministry. There was also an attack on the Prewitt Family, whom young Mr Weasley, his twin and Prefect siblings in Gryffindor were related to via their Mother…and, as a final jest to your family, Voldemort captured, tortured and left your grandparents, Charles and Dorea, for dead…but not before James found them."

Suddenly, Harrison's chair flew back in a fit of rage while the young wizard himself leapt out of his seat, his eyes filled with rage, fury and no small amount of hurt, which also caused his hair to rise up, as though magic had gained a static cling.

"This…Secret Keeper…name him!"

"Peter Pettigrew," replied Albus, a note of pain in his voice, "Though I am ashamed to admit I did not admit this myself, Harrison; you see, in a bid to protect the Potters and believe in the old friendship between your Father and said man, I let a rumour be leaked out saying that Sirius Black, whom was your Father's closest friend, was the Secret Keeper instead."

"But Black's in Azkaban, isn't he?" asked Neville suddenly, earning an alarmed look from Harrison while Dumbledore nodded.

"Indeed, he is, Mr Longbottom, and many believe it was for betraying Lily and James to Voldemort; however, his crimes stretch further than that. For when he was apprehended, he was laughing like a madman in the middle of a destroyed Muggle street in Coventry, having apparently murdered twelve Muggles and young Pettigrew too."

While Harrison's eyes widened to new levels, Dumbledore held up a single finger, "A finger was all that remained and, given Black's mental state, he was sentenced to Azkaban by Bartemius Crouch Senior, the former Director of the DMLE."

"Without a trial?" asked Harrison, earning a shake of the head from Dumbledore. "Didn't anyone try anything to get to the truth? What about you, Headmaster? Aren't you meant to be some high-ranked authority all your own?"

"I was and still am Chief Warlock of the Wizengamot, yes," replied Dumbledore, earning another enraged glare from Harrison.

This time, however, Albus also saw what looked like sparks crackling against the boy's body as the Headmaster went on, "However, you must understand, Harrison: this was an age of fear, terror and suspicion and, given the fallout from your parents' deaths due to the betrayal of their best friend and the evidence stacked against him…"

"You could have said something!" hissed Harrison, though as he did so, his eyes widened suddenly, "Hang on…this Black person, he wouldn't happen to own a…a flying motorbike and sidecar, would he?"

"He was given it as a gift by Lily, yes," replied Dumbledore, his eyes narrowing as he asked, "But how do you know that, Harrison?"

"I remember it, you senile old fool!" hissed Harrison, his sharp, furious tone surprising Hermione while Neville looked just as troubled by this news as Harrison himself, "I remember a bike taking me away from Godric's Hollow by your gamekeeper, Hagrid…but just before I remember that bike, I remember someone demanding Hagrid give me to them…was that Sirius?"

"I…I would imagine so, but I had given Hagrid strict instructions…"

Suddenly, even Hermione jumped while Filius looked alarmed when Harrison's magic was let loose again: this time, however, the strength of said magic broke clean through the tray Dumbledore had conjured, as well as the table underneath; as for the treats, they were now splayed out across the floor, the liquid bubbling and frothing while the cakes, treats and sandwiches seemed to melt away, as though they'd been eaten by acid.

As for Harrison, his breath was slow, shaky and edged by tearful rage and pain as he hissed, "So…so it was you…you who left…left me with them!"

As shocked as he was by the boy's power, especially since he vaguely recalled Minerva saying how Harrison had never had an Accidental Magic outburst, Dumbledore still tried to maintain his look of pain, regret and remorse, "Yes…but Harrison, please, you must understand; they were your only family…I thought…I hoped…"

"They abandoned me!" thundered Harrison, slamming his hands down on the cracked table, "In the middle of London, Headmaster: they left me and lost me and when the Muggles tried to help, they…they'd run away! Left me to…to the mercies of an orphanage that was more than willing to hand me over to adoptive parents who abused me, broke my heart, shattered my will, took my trust and left it in a pile of dragon shit!"

"The Millers!" gasped Hermione suddenly, earning a cold, scathing glare from Harrison.

"Don't even speak their name!" snarled Harrison darkly, looking back to Dumbledore, "All that happened…all I suffered…all my pain and…and even turning away friendship…happiness…a NORMAL CHILDHOOD!"

Suddenly, a nearby cabinet smashed while Harrison's voice was more like thunder than ever as he boomed, "IT'S YOUR FAULT!"

"Yes I…" Dumbledore began, but before he could finish, he gasped in alarm and fear, his hand quickly moving towards his wand while Neville, Filius and Hermione let out mutual cries of alarm as what could only be described as a shockwave of pure, emerald-green magic flew out of Harrison, turning the old man's office into a warzone – or the aftermath of one – while even the images in the portraits fled in terror.

At the centre of it, however, Harrison was numb to it all, blind and deaf to the cries of his friends, mentors and the man who claimed he was an ally.

All he knew was the sound of his own scream of rage as the shockwave tore out of him, accompanied by a sound akin to that of a crack of thunder.

The sheer force of the wave, as well as the cry of the one who unleashed it, resonated throughout Hogwarts like the explosion of the world itself, making many people worried, if not alarmed by the sound.

In the Headmaster's office, however, Harrison could do nothing but scream before, to the surprise of the others – all of whom were protected by a shield Dumbledore had barely managed to get up in time – his shockwave receded, his scream died down and, right there and then, he did the only thing he seemed able to do.

He stared deep into Dumbledore's eyes, his voice edged by pain, hatred and loss as he whispered softly.

"You did this to me…"

Then, to Hermione's horror, Harrison fell to the floor, narrowly missing the jagged edge of Dumbledore's desk as he fell, his body now as limp as a ragdoll while his eyes rolled into the back of his head as the blackness of unconsciousness came for him.

MoM

As Harrison fell and his friends and mentors rushed to check on him, however, none of them were aware of just how powerful the wave Harrison had unleashed had become.

Unbeknownst to said boy, not to mention those in the Great Hall whom were enjoying the evening meal, in an office meant for a certain kind of teacher, Professor Quirinus Quirrell suddenly felt his whole body burning up, though the cause of it was unknown to him.

Him or his disembodied master, who let out a primal scream all his own as he exclaimed, "What is this ma…"

Before the shade of Lord Voldemort could finish, however, his host body exploded in a shower of blood, gore and ashes made up of magical origins the likes of which even he had never experienced.

All that remained was a bloodbath, a pile of burned-up robes and a single black mark on the back wall of the man's office.

A mark shaped like a bolt of lightning.

MoM

At the same time, Filius' head snapped up when he heard his boss speaking with fear, if not dread, in his voice.

Though the words he used were not what Filius expected to hear.

"Rackham…it's true…he is one of them…dear Merlin! What have I done?"

Filius would have said something about the name spoken by Dumbledore, but, at that moment, he was more concerned with his apprentice, as well as the other two young charges, both of whom were steadying Harrison as they laid him on top of Neville's folded robe, while Hermione kept her hand tightly clasped in Harrison's.

Filius, meanwhile, looked to Dumbledore, a dark, ominous look in his eyes that, when Dumbledore noticed it, reminded the old man exactly who this was before him, namely the battle-hardened warrior, Duel Champion and surrogate Father figure to both the brightest witch of her age and the young prodigy laid out on the Headmaster's floor.

As he stared into Filius' eyes, Albus saw the goblin teacher shake his head before he growled softly at his supposed boss;

"Pray he wakes up and is okay, Albus…because if you're right…I remember the last and he nearly went to a place that could have made him…"

"Something that Tom and Gellert combined could not stop," finished Albus, remembering Garrick's words, earning a stiff nod from Filius.

"And if there's someone who knows the darker side of that power, you senile, misguided, self-deluded old coot, it is an Ollivander; after all, look what happened to Garrick's grandfather!"

So, the edited version is over and done with – all that follows this chapter is new content – and, BLOODY HELLFIRE AND BRIMSTONE!

Harrison has a real sleeping dragon inside of him, but now it's been tickled, what will happen to our hero?

Also…Rackham?

As in…Oh…Godric's Heart: if Harrison is capable of wielding…that magic, will he become a greater hero than Dumbledore?

Or a darker wizard than Voldemort and Grindelwald combined?

Keep Reading to Find Out

Next Chapter: Hogwarts discovers something terrible, but in the darkness, a sliver of light shines through as Harrison awakens to a new adventure with some very old legends attached to it, as well as a power even he may know not…well, not yet anyway;

Please Read and Review

NUMBERED ANNOTATIONS: (1)

The 'spinning around' of the words was kind of inspired by Sherlock's Mind Palace and Tony Stark's interactive screens in their respective fandoms; weird? Maybe, but it was fun to slip in there

AN: New Stuff

So, TADAH!

Yes, it's true, my friends; rather than the very weird, blocking idea I originally lost with this story's old version, I decided to revamp it and turn it into a crossover with the brilliant, and addictively-repetitive and amazing game of HOGWARTS LEGACY – well, a crossover of sorts; I mean, it is still Harry Potter/Wizarding World, so is it really a crossover if it's the same fandom?

(It's for that reason that I didn't label this a crossover, as well as keep the secret of my surprise twist to myself until…well, now)

If you've played the game, kudos to you – and special kudos to anyone who might tell me what House you played it in when you played the game – while, at the same time, get ready for fun and games abound, and not just for our young prodigy;