Scion of Sorcery, Dimensions of Destiny
Disclaimers: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Review Answers:
Jostanos: Mana, not Maya, but all good points still, my friend;
Sheploo: Ba-dum-bump
Dennisud: Background? Not exactly…more roles that don't put them as Harry's version of Crabbe and Goyle and there every time he doesn't need them to be;
WhiteElfElder: Some he'll be able to ignore, but someone is definitely going to tickle the sleeping dragon – no prizes for guessing who;
At the same time, Harry's body seemed to glow with this ethereal golden light that enveloped all four Houses in its glow, leaving each and every one of the students trembling, shuddering and whimpering as what could only be described as pure magic rushed through them, almost as though some deity or divine force had entered the school.
At the same time, the Sorting Hat opened its rim before it let out a cry that set the stage for the future of Hogwarts and, indeed, magic itself. Not that any of them knew it at the time as, instead, they all watched with awe, wonder and shock as the hat made a strange remark.
"The future has taken root in the present…"
While Harry wasn't alone in wondering, and silently dreading, what the hat meant by that cryptic choice of words, the Sorting Hat itself seemed to snap its attention back to the aforementioned present as, taking a slow, shaky breath, it composed itself long enough to make its decision:
"SLYTHERIN!"
Phase One: Potter-Strange?
Chapter 6: I'm An Agent of Chaos
Following Harry's sorting into Slytherin, the response seemed a little one-sided as some people eyed him curiously while many others looked at him as though he was a dead cert for the next Dark Lord.
If he was being brutally honest, their looks of fear, disbelief, doubt and shock made Harry feel sick to his stomach, even though he knew this was a choice made by Magic itself rather than traits, attributes or personal choice. He'd felt it when the Sorting Hat had been put on his head; he'd sensed all that raw, untapped magical energy surging through the room, each pulse of said energy emanating from Harry himself.
SoS
While everyone else had been scared, awed and curious by the apparent display, if not the mysterious presence of such powerful magic, Harry felt this ancient force wrapping itself around him like wings of pure, primal mystic energy. Enshrouded in those wings, Harry felt this force giving him strength, understanding and a feeling of determination that told him why he was at Hogwarts in the first place.
Then that same force decided his destiny; not because it was where he would be best suited, but because it was the ideal place for Harry to be the very thing he had become.
And that was an agent, though probably not an Agent of SHIELD – not yet, anyway.
No, Harry was to become an agent of change, whether they wanted it or him to be such a thing or not, now present as a member of this biased, magic-disgracing environment that was supposed to be the finest school of witchcraft and wizardry in the world.
Still, though, there was one thing about the choice that made Harry uneasy, though he tried not to let it show on his face.
The future has taken root in the present…
'What did that mean?'
SoS
With the declaration made and while most of the school seemed to be content looking at him with different emotions and thoughts running through their minds, Harry removed the Sorting Hat from his head and made his way towards the Slytherin Table.
As he did so, he stopped and, looking back to the High Table, Harry met the eyes of Headmaster Dumbledore, who seemed somewhere between shocked and terrified. Seeing the look, Harry gave the old man a thin, kind smile before he shrugged and, without a word, he made his way to the Slytherin Table, taking a seat next to Daphne, who seemed amused by what had just happened.
As the Sorting continued with Dean Thomas going to Gryffindor, Harry felt Daphne nudge him before she asked in a whisper, "I suppose it's a good thing you chose to take your real name rather than the one they know you by, right? I mean, imagine the barbs heading your way if they knew."
"I don't need to imagine what could happen had I chosen to keep my adoptive name, Miss Greengrass," argued Harry, watching with the rest of the students as a red-haired boy named Ronald Weasley was sent to Gryffindor, "I know of the infamous reputation of Slytherin House well enough because of many of its former students and the ophidian monster most of them chose to serve, but no matter what the past, it is the present and the future that matters most to me."
The future has taken root in the present…
Trying to ignore the dread that wormed its way into his heart as he once again thought about those words, and while Daphne looked stunned by Harry's response, the Sorting ended with a dark-skinned boy named Blaise Zabini joining Harry and the rest of the Slytherins; as he sat down on Harry's other side, giving the Strange Heir a curt nod as he, along with the rest of the students, waited for the next event to take place.
Up on the High Table, Headmaster Dumbledore rose from his seat, his eyes scanning the room intently before, taking a breath, the old man raised his hands as he announced, "Let the feast begin."
"And on that note, excuse me, ladies and germs," said Harry, silently applauding himself for emulating one of his favourite uncles with his words before, to the shock of the Slytherins, he rose from his seat and, without any explanation or an apology for what he was about to do, he walked to the Gryffindor Table, Mana at his heels where both of them took a seat between Neville and a brown-haired girl with unfortunate-sized teeth and brown eyes that looked at Harry in horror as she saw him join them.
"What? Harry?" asked Neville, earning a smile from his friend as he asked, "What…what do you…"
"Why so surprised, brother-mine? After all, it doesn't say anywhere in the rules or the guidebook to this place that we can't share feasts with other Houses, much less close, personal friends and neighbours, am I right?" asked Harry, earning a stunned look from Neville as, although he didn't say it out loud, he knew Harry was right.
Sirius had said many times that there were occasions where certain students spent some of their free, social time with those who'd come from other Houses and, although it had never been done before at a feast – let alone the Welcoming Feast – it still wasn't against the rules.
However, while Harry seemed to understand that very loophole, there were others who didn't.
Before Harry managed to serve himself some food, the voice of Professor McGonagall cut through the Hall, "Mr Strange, return to your House now: five points from Slytherin for disrupting the feast."
"Um…sorry, but how, exactly, do I, in your words, disrupt the feast by choosing to spend it with my friends?" asked Harry curiously, looking to the Deputy Head with a mixture of mocking pity and false confusion as he asked, "So…what? Is there a cardinal ruling that says friends can't spend feasts as well as lessons with friends and allies who come from other Houses? I don't think so!"
His singsong way of finishing his little tirade earned more outraged and amused looks – mostly from two redheads who decided there and then that, snake crest aside, they loved the Gobstones on this kid, and the kid himself, if he was willing to become a rulebreaker and loophole-finder who may as well thrive on chaos – while Harry cleared his throat as he shrugged dismissively.
"Besides, if there is such a rule, feel free to show me where it is written, but only if you're willing to confess that such a rule goes against everything Lords Gryffindor and Slytherin as well as Ladies Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw wanted for our beautiful citadel of a school when they made it."
To his amusement, Harry saw McGonagall close her mouth before Dumbledore cleared his throat, trying to play peacekeeper before things got too far out of hand, "An astute observation, Mr Strange, and true as well: therefore, consider your lost points reinstated. And then, take another five for showing inter-house cooperation: however, in future, I think your Head of House would appreciate a little forewarning about your decision to spend the feast with friends."
"So, what you're saying is that I need the permission of the guards and wardens to be with those friends, do I, Headmaster?" asked Harry, earning a shocked gasp from the girl next to him as well as many others as Harry frowned, "Funny, I don't recall that rule being in the book either…"
"The rules of Hogwarts are not yours to dictate as they are for teachers and the Headmaster to tell you," argued the brunette, earning a curious look from Harry, "And you shouldn't be so cheeky towards them either; not unless you want to be expelled."
"And even if I did, what business is it of yours, Miss?" asked Harry, rolling his eyes as he scratched Mana's feathers, while he spoke in a loud, clear voice, either as though he hoped people would hear him talking to his familiar, or he was still voicing his opinions without a care in the world for the consequences to what he was going to say.
Whatever the truth, Harry still continued speaking, "Honestly, is there any privacy or even a sense of respect given in this world? By Odin, I knew I should have accepted a place at Ilvermorny: at least there, the only apparent segregation between peers is because of House Points and not the inbred, personal, blood-purist, biased beliefs based on the thoughts and ideals of a snake-faced monster who couldn't even die right!"
As Harry had expected, his slander earned him several cries of outrage from the Slytherins, some of whom gave him looks that made Harry wonder how long it would be before he had to rely on his own magical advantages to look after himself.
At the same time, a greasy-haired professor seated at the High Table snapped, "Detention, Mr Strange: tomorrow night, my office!"
"Okay, Professor Severus Tobias Snape, aka my Head of House and Potions Master, among other things," replied Harry, his voice hardening a little with the last words as he looked right at the man before he smiled, "What time should I grace you with my presence, sir?"
As Severus went to answer, his voice failed him while, down the table, Dumbledore's expression turned pitiful and remorseful as he, along with the rest of the staff, saw Harry's eyes glowing like fire, the colour in them so vibrant that it showed the boy's magic for what it was.
However, to everyone that saw it, they also knew those eyes for the colour while one or two – namely Dumbledore as well as a stout Professor whom Harry later learned to be Filius Flitwick – knew it for the power behind those eyes.
Even so, the recognition was clear on Severus' face.
"Potter?"
"Um…no…Strange, weren't you listening?" corrected Harry, smiling thinly as he knew his mind game would work.
SoS
Given what he'd heard about his birth Mother thanks to information shared with his Father, Harry had known he would have to deal with Professor Snape given the rocky history that the man shared with Lily Potter, then known as Lily Evans.
But that was just another reason that he had chosen to take the Strange name rather than answer to the name of Potter.
Yes, he was Harry James Strange-Potter, but hyphenating was so olden days that it was pathetic to have to answer to it so often.
Also, there was how Harry Potter was famous for something he never asked to be famous for while, at the same time, he was only Potter's adopted son while he was the blood-son and heir of Doctor Stephen Strange, who, as far as these pureblood, biased bigots were concerned, was nobody.
Well, that wasn't entirely true, but since it was only Britain that thought of his Father as the magical version of Red Skull, he didn't acknowledge it.
No, as far as all were concerned, Harry Strange was someone with a clean slate who could follow any path he chose, even if that path went against the plans for his other namesake.
And that was why Harry had really let himself come back to Magical Britain after all these years: to be exactly what he was born to be…
Himself.
And if you didn't like it?
Tough!
SoS
Despite the curiosities and the surprises that had come from the Sorting, there seemed to be an air of uneasy calm that settled over the Great Hall as, at long last, the Welcoming Feast was allowed to begin.
Seated on the Gryffindor Table with his friend, as well as his familiar, Harry felt a smile touch his face as he briefly glanced over at the Ravenclaw Table, looking to Su Li, who shook her head in amusement at her honorary brother's antics. When she caught him looking, however, she quickly shook her head before gesturing to her Housemates, indicating that, unlike the mini-Loki-slash-Stark now wearing green, she was happy keeping her head down and associating with none bar the Eagles.
Given what he knew of her Grandfather, Harry decided to let her have her own choices, since he was perfectly content doing the same for him.
Though he did not promise not to keep a seat free for Su if she ever chose to embrace courage and join him, thereby completing what might as well be a Chimera-like trio – part lion, part snake, part eagle – between the three students of three houses.
He also silently vowed to find a way to complete the set and bring a badger into the mix, just to really PO the students, and the staff too.
SoS
Meanwhile, apparently content with what was going on, Harry looked to Neville, helping himself to some meat as he asked in a genuinely-curious voice, "So, Neville, what's your story? I mean, what was Malfoy talking about when he said that you and Sirius were poisoning the bloodline?"
"Well," replied Neville, noticing a few others watching them warily, if not with dark suspicions, though he guessed that was primarily because a Gryffindor was willing to befriend a Slytherin, but also because of the suspicion that lingered thanks to Snape's outburst.
Doing his best to ignore them, Neville went on, "Like I said, Sirius raised me since the night Mum was tortured to death and Dad was put under the curse. In that time, he's taught me a lot about magic and been like the Dad I never had, but, because he has no children, there are people who think he's going to make me the heir of his bloodline."
Here, he nodded to the Slytherin Table, and a certain blond who was switching between enjoying the feast and watching Harry curiously, if not with what appeared to be an impressed air, which actually betrayed the stuck-up git persona he'd shown out in the Great Hall.
Neville, meanwhile, kept going with his explanation as he told Harry, "Now Malfoy, whose Mother is also born of Black Family blood, sees that potential future as a threat to him because, as the single male scion of the Blacks through his Mother, he believes that, if Sirius dies before he can give birth to a real son and heir, everything would pass to him or, worse, his Father, Lucius Malfoy to be held in proxy until Draco turned seventeen."
"But?" asked Harry, taking a drink from his goblet.
"But," said Neville, tugging at his collar for a moment, "Well, ever since I knew him as my guardian and not just as Uncle Sirius, which is what I always called him, I've always known, or rather I suspected that he was saving that honour for someone else…"
Here, he lowered his voice to a whisper, "You."
"Because I'm his godson," said Harry, earning a nod from Neville before Harry sniggered, pausing to take another drink before he looked up at his friend with a calm air about him. "Neville, like one or two others in this Hall, you know my real identity, or rather, you know the one that was given to me when I was adopted by the man that risked his own life to save my Mother and me from Voldemort's forces."
As Neville nodded in response, Harry continued, "Now, don't get me wrong, even though I'm a Slytherin, I plan on doing what I can to honour that man as well as the woman who also risked her life for my own, but I will do it in my own way, as the boy I was born to be: Harry Strange."
"And what if people try to use your…other name to call out to you or address you as that?" asked Neville, earning a scoff from Harry.
"Then I'll have to remind them, like Dad used to when he first met people who wouldn't understand he was and still is more than just Mr Strange," answered Harry, putting a hand to his heart, "I'm not afraid of my other name, but it's just that, Neville: my other name, given through adoption, then stolen from me when that monster took my adoptive Father from me. Cards on the table: if he'd survived and if I'd been raised as the heir he wanted me to be, then maybe I'd answer to my other name, but I wasn't, so I won't."
"In reality, you're Harry Strange, but inside, where no-one can take it from you, you're…You-Know-Who," whispered Neville, earning a nod from Harry, "So are you saying you choose to be Strange because it helps you remember what you still have rather than what you lost?"
"Exactly," agreed Harry, silently glad that someone inside Hogwarts understood his reasoning. "I'm still here, I'm still standing and I'm still breathing: I can honour them, but that doesn't mean I have to be a shadow of them: as a boy with my adoptive Father's name, people have expectations and, if they learn it, they probably still would be like that, but I don't care."
"Because no-one expects anything from Harry Strange other than the enigma he is," said Neville, earning another nod from Harry before the young boy asked, "So what about Sirius? Can…can I tell him that I've met you or…"
"Tell him," answered Harry, taking a deep breath before he nodded once, "And then tell him this from me: I don't want his title, but I would welcome the chance to know him again. So, if he wants to do something for me, then give you the title as everyone states he would."
Neville's eyes widened in disbelief while Harry smiled, "Then, when he does, let's both show the world what happens to those who people think they can just give idle titles and disgrace the memories of in their own way…if you're in?"
Smiling in response, Neville let out a laugh as he told Harry, "I never admitted it until now, but I think it's going to be fun getting to know you, Harry."
"Likewise, brother-mine," chuckled Harry, patting Neville's shoulder, "So…what lessons are you looking forwards to most of all?"
Talk soon turned to the sort of thing that normal students would look forwards to, though Neville never forgot the courage shown by one who wasn't even one of the Lions, but, instead, a Snake.
On that day, the first person in Hogwarts in an eternity realised that you didn't have to have the crest to be what that House embodied.
And thus, the agent of change claimed his first supporter…and his first victory.
SoS
When the feast ended, Harry still didn't return to the Slytherin Table, choosing to remain next to Neville while he enjoyed what passed for a decent meal at Hogwarts, especially since there seemed to be very little in the way of healthy options including the gut-rotting, sugared desserts appeared after the main meal.
Other than his honorary brother, Harry also tried his best to get to know the rest of Gryffindor, but the only one who seemed the least bit interested in what he had to say was Dean Thomas, who was sat across from Neville and gladly indulged in conversations with Harry.
As for the rest of the House, whenever Harry tried to talk to them, he was either cut off by the loud, bossy brunette next to him or worse, he was the target of undeserved murmurs from the redhead Ronald Weasley and an older student who seemed to warn everyone off speaking with Harry.
When Harry asked Neville for information, he explained the older boy was a prefect and, from what he knew of the boy, the one named Ronald was as anti-Slytherin as it was possible to get because of the ties Harry had spoken out against earlier that evening, which probably meant he'd become an annoyance very quickly for the junior Sorcerer Supreme.
As for the Prefect, he looked like a relative of Weasley and, despite the fact that Harry had approval to stay at Gryffindor's Table with his friends, he seemed as insistent as his relative on making Harry's experience of his birth Mother's House as painful as possible.
'Makes me wonder how they'd all react if I did go by my adopted name,' thought Harry, though only Mana heard him, the thunderbird nuzzling her friend's hand in a show of support.
Of course, she was another reason for questions and slurs from some of the Gryffindors, especially the brunette whom Harry eventually learned was called Hermione Granger. She rabbited on about rules, laws and restrictions as though Harry was meant to give a damn and, when he asked to keep her nose out of his business, she turned said nose up at him as though he'd just declared himself king of the sewers or something just as vile.
Given she was Muggle-born, as Harry learned, he wondered if she knew of the Strange name, much less why it was the cause for such a strong reaction from many of the Muggle-borns and Half-Bloods in the school, but, despite her egotistical thought that she knew better than everyone else, Granger didn't seem too concerned with Harry's true identity.
However, despite the annoyances, the attempts to intimidate him into leaving their table and the awkwardness of the situation, Harry and the rest of the students reached the end of the feast where, as Harry massaged his full stomach, trying and failing to get the foul taste of pumpkin juice out of his mouth as well as the obscenely-sweetened treats called dessert, he noticed Dumbledore rise from his seat.
For a moment, the eyes of the Headmaster met Harry's and, as they did so, the young sorcerer saw a thin smile flit across the old man's features before he addressed the hall, "Now that we are all fed and watered, there are just a few little start-of-term notices to give out; the first years please note that the Dark Forest is strictly-forbidden to all students, although I do wish some of our older years would remember that."
From where he was sat, Harry saw two other redheads sharing amused looks, their identical looks and the synchronicity of their reactions helping him to figure out that they had to be twins and, from the looks of them, they were related to Ronald and the Prefect.
Ignoring his dilemma at the fact that two who seemed interesting were related to two who weren't, Harry listened as Dumbledore continued, "Also, our caretaker, Mr Filch, has asked me to remind you that the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to anyone who does not wish to die a most-painful death."
'Yeah, because that's not at all tempting! Putting a forbidden area in front of kids, what could possibly go wrong?' thought Harry, earning a trill of agreement from Mana before he smiled, 'Still, I wonder what's so potentially-fatally-dangerous about that place. Maybe I could use my Astral Form to find out, what do you think, Mana?'
'Sounds interesting,' agreed Mana, earning a knowing snigger from Harry, 'Your Father did say it was all right for you to continue your training. And, more than anything, your skill in the Astral Plane and the use of the Mirror Dimension might just serve you well enough that you can find a way to get around the hate of these hypocritical wizards!'
Harry didn't say anything in response to that, but he did agree with Mana's suggestion about trying to find a way to bring together others who, like him, could be capable of learning to harness the mystical powers of the arcane and become future Masters of the Mystic Arts.
Maybe he could even form his own band of sorcerers who could look at him as the other junior apprentices looked at Master Hamir, Wong and Dr Strange. A group such as that could be useful for whatever purposes Harry needed to plan in order to survive in this place.
As he drove himself out of his thoughts, Harry heard Dumbledore speak again, "And finally, first-years please note Quidditch practice and try-outs are not for anyone in your year, so please do not try and find a way to bend those rules. If any student in the first-year class is found in possession of a broomstick, which is against the rules as printed on your welcome letters, the item will be confiscated and the student in question disciplined."
"And yet they have Flying lessons for the first years where we ride clearly-outdated brooms," muttered Neville, earning a curious look from Harry before, smirking, the young sorcerer leaned in close to his friend.
"Not everyone needs brooms to fly, Neville," whispered Harry, earning a shocked look from his friend before Harry put a finger to his lips, "And not everyone needs to know that either, but it's something worth remembering."
While Neville looked on in shock, Harry smiled again before he rose from his seat and, taking a deep breath, he added, "All-righty-then; I guess I'd better slither my scaly self's way back into the Snake Pit where a poison-fanged monster such as I belong: but don't worry, little lion cubs with no manes yet. Maybe I'll join you again tomorrow at breakfast, what do you say, Neville? Dean?"
"Sounds like fun, Strange," replied Dean, earning an eye-roll from Neville, though that was more because of the sarcastic way Harry had shown he was pandering to peoples' idea of what he was – aka the idea that, if you were a Slytherin, you had to be a real poisonous snake, while if you were a Gryffindor, you had to be a brave little lion…and probably the same for Hufflepuff and Ravenclaw, Neville wouldn't be surprised.
However, as quickly as day turned into night, so too did the Prefect snap, "You will sit with your housemates tomorrow and in every feast from now on, Strange. Any attempt to cause an infraction of this rule will result in detention! If you continue, I will see you expelled, do I make myself clear?"
In response, Harry frowned before he put a finger in his ear and, making a gesture as though cleaning it out, he asked, "Hey; did anyone else hear a rude fly buzzing where it's not welcome? For such a clean, magical place, I swear: this school's got a pretty bad bug problem."
The Prefect was left fuming while, at the same time, Harry was spared any further lectures or complaints as the students filed out of the Great Hall, Harry easily returning to the Slytherin fold since they went down to the dungeons while the rest of the school's student body went up and off to their respective dormitories.
As Harry walked with the rest of his housemates, he felt someone tap his shoulder before a familiar voice whispered, "I'd watch myself if I were you, Strange: not everyone in Slytherin accepted your slander towards You-Know-Who or your choice to sit with the mortal enemy of Slytherin House."
Smiling in response, Harry looked over his shoulder where he saw the eyes of Daphne Greengrass looking at him, "Believe me, Miss Greengrass, it's them who should watch themselves if they think they can intimidate me."
"I'm just saying," retorted Daphne, but even as she did so, she couldn't help but return the smile.
Maybe it was his confidence or his thunderbird familiar or even the fact that, for reasons unknown to her, he'd chosen to not answer to the name that he'd been adopted into, but something about Harry Strange told Daphne that he wasn't wrong.
Something about him told Daphne that he could easily do that and, if necessary, he could even do more!
Still, he couldn't say she didn't warn him…
SoS
The Slytherin Dormitory was located in the dungeons of Hogwarts behind a wall that looked just as normal as any other, which made Harry smile to himself as he sensed this was a way for the Slytherins to live up to the cunning mindset that the House was famous for.
Hiding in plain sight was a good move, but then again, it tested the Slytherins because the entrance looked as normal as any other and, according to their Prefect, the password to the house changed on the first of every month with the new password posted on the noticeboard for one day at the end of the previous month.
Learn it, remember it or lose out.
With the first password given, Harry followed the rest of the Slytherins into the Common Room where, as he entered the room, he had to admit that the place was worthy of a rest and leisure area for future magic users.
The dark-leather chairs and low-burning fireplace decorated with serpentine motifs definitely looked comfortable while, off to one side, there was a second room that looked like a study area/mini-library for the Slytherins, which showed Harry why the House was known for cunning. Sharpen your mind with individual learning and independent study.
This was one of many lessons that Masters of the Mystic Arts taught their students, including Stephen, who'd worked hard to teach Harry the finer points of independent study.
"There's nothing wrong with being clever," he'd said to Harry during one of their lessons, "Knowledge is power, but don't allow yourself to believe you are the same as others. Everyone has their strengths and their weaknesses and the best part about learning to master these traits individually is that you feel a sense of accomplishment doing it alone."
As Harry pulled himself out of his thoughts, he noticed that the rest of the first-year group, save Daphne and the Zabini boy, were looking at him with expressions of mistrust, loathing and a disbelieving sense of personal betrayal.
Seeing the aggressive air with which they presented themselves, Harry sighed deeply before, clicking his tongue, he lowered a hand to Mana, who was snarling threateningly, her body crackling with static as she sensed the danger to her friend and partner. However, with Harry's touch and his reassuring shushes to her, the thunderbird fell silent while, as she looked up at Harry, she saw him smile before he winked, his eyes shining in the same way that usually heralded the power of the Eyes of Horus.
Stepping back, Mana chuckled in understanding while Harry looked to his housemates, "So, who gets to take the first shot?"
"You traitor, Strange!" hissed Millicent Bulstrode, her glare filled with venom, "You don't deserve to be one of us: get out!"
"No, I don't think I will, Miss Bulstrode, but thanks for volunteering," drawled Harry, folding his arms in a confident, defensive manner, "Next?"
"How dare you sit with blood traitors, Mudbloods and filth!" spat Pansy Parkinson, her appearance and her brutish tone reminding Harry of a barking pug as she spat at him like a rabid mutt, "You are, apparently, a Slytherin, Strange! And Slytherins do not break bread with unwelcome mongrels like those Muggle-loving freaks, but you dare to say otherwise and then slander the name of…of…"
"Lord Voldemort?" asked Harry, earning shivers from the rest of the group, which only made him tut with mocking disapproval, "What's with the jump scare, everyone? Have you not heard the expression: dead people don't want anything? It's one of the perks of being dead, not that I'd give that snake-faced monster from beyond the Dark Realms as much as a second of my respect, so, while you all deal with your Volde-phobia, why don't you be a good girl, Parkinson, and stop wasting your breath on matters that have absolutely nothing to do with me or you."
A flurry of movement suddenly caught Harry's eye.
However, these wizards had no idea who they were dealing with.
A fact Harry proved when, without bothering to consider his earlier points about secrecy and keeping to the rule of appearing to be a normal wizard, choosing instead to be exactly what he'd said he would be…
Himself.
Before the source of the movement could get a word out, Harry conjured an Eldritch Whip and lashed out at the opposing force, wrapping around the wand hand of a pale, weedy-looking boy with dark eyes and a real look of hate in his eyes, though that look turned into one of alarm when he saw the whip tighten its hold, the gold light of the whip burning against his skin warningly.
As for the rest of Slytherin, they stared in shock as Harry held the whip tight before he asked, "So…did you think I wouldn't be able to defend myself if provoked into doing so against you so-called best of the best?"
Pulling on the whip, Harry watched as the boy, Theo Nott, fell to his knees from the heat of the pressure on his wrists, before Harry scowled darkly as he shook his head, "You snakes have no idea what I'm capable of, but, consider this an example of how, if you decide to challenge me, least of all because of your pathetically-outdated idea of supposed superiority, I'll be more than happy to show you what happens…which reminds me…"
Here, he surprised the rest of the Slytherins as he conjured a second whip, which he lashed at Pansy Parkinson, who gasped as Harry not only wrapped up her wrists with his whip, but he also pulled her close enough so that she could see the fire burning in his green eyes.
With that fire burning so brightly, it seemed to consume every other piece in her line of sight, Pansy saw and heard Harry as he hissed in a cold, warning voice, "If I ever hear that disgusting cuss word again about any first-generation magic user, I assure you, Doggie: I will feel no shame whatsoever in enacting swift retribution on the offending party!"
Before Parkinson could get a word in edgewise, Harry proved his point when, to the horror of the pug girl, his eyes flashed for a moment before he threw her down, pulling both his whips from the bound wrists of both students with a tell-tale snapping sound before he folded his arms, looking down his nose at Parkinson as she began looking around in alarm and disbelief.
As everyone stared in curiosity at what had happened, they all gasped when Pansy suddenly grabbed at her clothes, ripping them off while she gasped as though she was desperately trying to cool off, "Help…it…it's so hot. Someone…please…water…help…I can't…can't breathe…please!"
By the time the girl was down to her underwear, only one being in the room saw Harry's eyes flash again, a ripple of magic passing between him and the being in question as he finished his work, leaving Pansy scrabbling at the ground for only a moment before, realising where she was and what was happening, the girl screamed and fled, her face redder than red.
Harry, however, took a deep breath before he told the Slytherins, "Consider that my only warning about using that disgusting word around me!"
Then, without another word, Harry headed for the Slytherin dormitories where, to his relief, he found the students all had individual rooms that were marked with plaques holding the name of the appropriate student. Opening the door, Harry smiled as he found a style of décor that could have been described as Spartan in comparison to what he'd actually expected of Slytherin House and the students who occupied the house.
There was a single bed with no signs of luxury other than the silk, emerald-green duvet and pillow that covered it; next to the bed was a single chest of drawers and a one-door wardrobe that looked big enough for a few clothes and a pair of shoes. A second door led to a magical shower area while, as Harry took a look around the room, he smiled as he knew that this was just another part of the individual creed of Slytherin House.
Stand on your own two feet with your own achievements and your own ideals being the way forwards.
Looking to Mana, who watched him with curiosity, Harry smiled as he asked, "What do you think?"
'I think it's perfect,' answered Mana, looking to the room before she added, 'Reminds me of Kamar-Taj.'
"That it does," agreed Harry, sniffing once before he rubbed his hand against his fingers, "Speaking of home, I still can't wrap my head around why the barrier between this world and the No-Maj world took my Sling Ring from me."
'You'll figure it out, little one,' replied Mana, earning a snigger from Harry as he saw the thunderbird make her way to the end of his bed, looking at the spot, 'What are you going to do about your possessions? Your intention was to bring them here with your ring, but that's been taken.'
To Harry's amusement, the words were no sooner out of her mouth before, to his surprise and relief, he saw a Sling portal appear in his room.
From the other side, a look of delight and warmth filled Harry's heart as he saw his Father, Dr Strange, walk through the portal, carrying a black trunk decorated with the same symbols as the Tao Mandalas that could be used as weapons all over it, the initials HJS engraved over the lock, which was enchanted so that only Harry could open it.
As Stephen put the trunk at the end of the bed, he reached into his pocket and, to Harry's delight, he tossed the boy his Ring, earning a relieved nod of thanks from Harry.
"Whatever they might think, you shouldn't have to ignore your power, son. I've had a word with Rameses about the barrier and he said he'll send a team to investigate since it's not something that should have happened."
"Thanks Dad," smiled Harry, sliding his Sling Ring onto his fingers before, seeing his Father eyeing their surroundings with his usual cool stare, the young apprentice swallowed nervously as he asked, "So…um…what do you think?"
"Slytherin…" mused Stephen, earning another gulp from Harry as he heard a note of discomfort in his Father's words, almost as though the idea of his son being in a supposedly-Dark-affiliated House was a mockery of his teachings.
Seconds later, however, his worry turned to relief when the Sorcerer Supreme nodded, a smile now crossing his face as he remarked, "Appropriate, I suppose: you're different from them, in possession of certain magical gifts that would make them all see you as a Dark Wizard, so the Fates put you in the same place, but not for darkness."
"For change," agreed Harry, stretching up as he sighed with relief, glad that he'd earned his Father's approval, as he often did. "Dad, could it be possible that anyone before me came here as a future Master?"
"I don't know," answered Stephen, narrowing his eyes, "What makes you say that, Harry?"
"When the Sorting Hat was put on my head, there was this…this shockwave," explained Harry, putting a hand to his heart, "I can't…I don't really know where it came from, exactly, but when it touched me, I felt…I felt as strong as when I unlocked my magical core, if not more."
"Hmm," said Stephen, pursing his lips together as he eyed their surroundings, "I'll check with Wong: see if there are any records of Wixen before your time coming to Kamar-Taj. However, at the same time, I want you to remember: you are my son and you have the gifts of Lily and James in you, including James' ancestral blood, so there are bound to be some differences in terms of magical strength and ability."
"Right," agreed Harry, before he smiled, "So, the magic of the school can't keep Sling Portals out; does this mean I can see you again?"
"If necessary," answered Stephen, although his expression turned into one of hardened determination as he explained, "On that note, when the time comes for you to go and meet Albus Dumbledore, open a portal to me and I'll come: I have a few things to say about what's going to happen. Until then, don't be afraid to be who you really are, all right?"
"Oh, don't worry, Dad," replied Harry, smiling as he explained, "I've already had one moment tonight where I've done just that."
Stephen just smiled, before he watched as Harry sat down on his bed with an ominous look that made Stephen's own expression darken.
"Something wrong?"
"Well," admitted Harry, rubbing his hands together nervously as he explained, "Not…not wrong, exactly, but…but as well as the magic I told you about, before…before it declared me a Slytherin, the…the hat. It…it said something."
"What?" asked Stephen.
In response, Harry looked up to his Father before, swallowing hard, he recited what he'd heard.
"The future has taken root in the present…any idea what it means?"
Stephen's face paled in horror as he heard the words leave his son's lips.
Unfortunately, Harry noticed, "Dad?"
"I have to go," answered Stephen.
Before Harry could ask what he meant, Stephen opened a Sling Portal and vanished, leaving Harry alone with a confused Mana, and more dark thoughts running through his mind.
'What do you think that was about?' asked Mana.
Harry just shook his head…
SoS
"Still trying to defy the inevitable…such fire in you…hmm…shame that fire may one day go out, eh, Strange? This is not where we say goodbye, dear Doctor…let's just call it…until our next appointment, where I sense a prescription of pure terror even greater than either Dormammu or I waits for you, Stephen…ta-ta now!"
Stephen's heart raced as he heard the ghostly words from nearly twelve years ago echoing through his mind, the ghostly laughter of the Nightmare King making his blood run cold.
Harry's words…Nightmare's ominous final jest…
Meeting, and impregnating, Lily…And the vision…
Clasping the Eye of Agamotto in his hands, Stephen's eyes watered softly, pain and dread now filling his heart as he looked down at the casing for one of the six most-powerful creations in the entire known Universe.
'It…it had to be a dream…' thought Stephen, screwing his eyes tightly shut as, for the first time in a few years, he heard his own ghostly voice echo.
"Harry? What have you…wait! Stop! HARRY!"
Then, he heard another voice.
One he now knew as that of his own son…
"WHAT…WHAT'S HAPPENING? WHY…WHY'S EVERYTHING HURTING? PLEASE…SOMEONE…MUM…DAD…SOMEONE, HELP ME!"
Snapping his eyes open, the only thing the Sorcerer Supreme felt was terror flooding his spirit as he remembered the screams, the fire, the air of raw death…or perhaps worse…
No…He had to know!
Opening the Eye, Stephen drew out the power of the Time Stone before he growled, "Show me…I have to know…was it…"
A wall of blue flames suddenly sprang up around him, earning a horrified scream from Stephen before, as quickly as they'd appeared, they soon disappeared, leaving him laid flat in his Master Chamber, his eyes wider than wide and his blood colder than cold.
"No…what…why couldn't I…"
"Naughty, naughty…"
Stephen's eyes widened again as he looked down, seeing only the shadows of his chamber…
And a pair of greenish-golden eyes that stared out at the Sorcerer Supreme with mocking amusement before the owner of those eyes laughed;
"No spoilers for you…Strange…doctor's orders!"
"NIGHTMARE?" Screamed Stephen.
The darkness became flooded with blue fire…
SoS
And Stephen's eyes snapped open again, sitting bolt upright on what he saw, to his relief and surprise, was his own bed.
When he sat upright, Stephen also alarmed Christine, who grabbed her husband as she asked, "Stephen? What happened? Wong found you passed out in your chambers; he said you'd tapped into the Eye's power, but…but he couldn't wake you! What happened?"
"Oh Chrissie," sighed Stephen, tears of pain, as well as mind-numbing fear, flowing freely down his cheeks as he looked up at his loving wife.
"What have I done?"
Uh-oh, talk about an emotional beginning to the first days of the rest of Harry Strange's life, but now he's sent a message, can he make sure others know the cost of their ignorance and stupidity?
Also…NIGHTMARE IS BACK?
Or…was it all a dream?
What did he mean no spoilers?
What does Stephen's vision, Harry's warning, and the weird set of coincidences surrounding our heroes of two worlds have to do with it?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Lessons, if you can call them that, begin, and Harry has more critics, as well as hypocrites, to face, including the biggest hypocrite there, who should learn not to see things through his rose-coloured glasses…and learn fast!
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