What If… Harry Potter Wasn't Harry Potter?
Disclaimer: SEE FIRST CHAPTER
Review Answer:
Jostanos: First, thanks for being my ONLY reviewer to this new idea…and second…tell me…scared yet? (Evil laugh)
In this world, from what very little he recalled of those dismal tales, there was one saving grace for him that would allow him time to plan;
After all, who would ever believe that the Boy-Who-Lived was really a reincarnated soul with the power to shatter the Multiverse?
2nd Thing: Stranger In A Strange Land
Ten years passed.
For someone who had lived two lives like Stephen Strange – or, as everyone else in this new world knew him, Harry Potter – such a length of time may as well have been a drop in the vast ocean of the unknown. However, at the same time, such a long timespan gave the Sinister-slash-Strange Supreme time to build up his arsenal and inspect this new world for himself.
What he found, in ten years, was both hilarious and a little impossible to believe.
WIHP
First and foremost, this world had no Avengers, no X-Men, mutants, Masters of the Mystic Arts or even superheroes and supervillains…
Well, except for those who'd been created by some oddly-familiar-looking-and-sounding old guy named Stan Lee and turned into comics, laughable animated series and, according to word on the grapevine, were even being considered for movies.
On another point, those comics weren't the only ones; there were also a bunch of superhero, antihero and supervillain comics created DC, who were something of a rival to Stan Lee's Marvel Universe and had a much darker outlook too, including many deaths, violent scenes and dark themes in a side-universe created by someone called Neil Gaiman.
However, the point was, there were no heroes.
Just the uniformed services and armed forces.
But none of them would be able to hold a candle to Strange Supreme.
'Great Agamotto's Ghost,' thought the dark sorcerer, a glint of amusement shining in his eyes.
'It's like they're practically begging me to become the one, true power in their world; all the easier to make them kneel at the feet of their betters.'
WIHP
On top of that amusing disappointment, Stephen was also amazed to discover – thanks to him absorbing the corpses and knowledge of his new life's fallen parents – that the magical world wasn't even part of the main world at all.
Instead, they chose to hide behind a bunch of stupidly-outdated rules, including wiping memories and, on rare occasions, even taking magical children from what they called Muggle households, all so the so-called Statute of Secrecy wasn't breached.
And why was such a thing necessary?
Because of fears brought out by the Puritan days of the Salem Witch Trials from centuries ago, and the vast number of so-called proofs of the existence of magic users, including burnings, dunkings and other torture methods. If they were meant to be so superior, why did they fear such pathetic and, ninety-nine percent of the time, failed attempts to identify witches and wizards, all brought out by religious persecution and the idea that God was superior, while magic users were agents of the Devil.
'Yeah…Jesus did what when he was alive? Water to wine, walking on water, healing with a touch, supposedly rising from the dead…well, I can agree with that last one, but still…hmm…what would you call that? I know there's a word: starts with M, sounds like tragic?'
WIHP
Finally, and most-amusing of all on the list of things that really tickled Stephen about his new life, was the whole pureblood dogma rubbish that most of the magical world seemed to adhere to.
According to the dogma – again, thanks to his absorbed knowledge – in this new magical world order, it was Purebloods who were superior, while below them were half-bloods – one magical, one non-magical parent – who were either necessary, marginally-welcomed by society, most-likely because of their bloodlines, or traitors to the cause. And, last but by no means least were Muggle-borns – children of magic born to two non-magical parents – who were considered to be the lowest-ranked on the totem pole; little more than scum.
As hilarious as that was, there was also the idea that Squibs – non-magicals born to magical parents – were a curse and a blight on the world while Muggles – aka non-magical beings – were to be enslaved, wiped out or used for sport.
'Hang on,' Stephen thought to himself when he considered the rules of Purism, 'If Squibs don't have magic and Muggles don't have magic, doesn't that make them one and the same thing, regardless of who their parents are or were?'
Add in the prejudice against those who were also dubbed half-breeds – as in the mating result of a human breeding with a magical creature, some of which had images in Stephen's head that probably would have given him nightmares – and yet, because they weren't human, they weren't even worth the time of so-called humans.
Oh, and then there was the group of so-called purist zealots who went around dressed like the KKK, eradicating magic users who didn't agree with their weak-minded Master's doctrines.
Including purebloods, Stephen didn't hesitate to add.
They weren't purist: they were hypocrites!
The so-called Dark Lord of the Pureblood Cause – leader of the pathetically-named Death Eaters – wasn't even a pureblood for Magic's sake, but, apparently, that didn't matter because, according to many of the pureblood egomaniacs who sought to cleanse the world and put themselves as Master of All, their all-powerful Lord Voldemort shat gold, pissed rainbows and his every word was laced with the secrets of the universe.
'They think being superior like that half-blood means they're great wizards?'
Stephen chuckled to himself as he found himself quoting a movie from the so-called rival franchise;
"Wait until they get a load of me…"
WIHP
On September First, on the day this story starts, having received a dull, boring invitation to attend a school for these lowbrow magic users, Stephen found his way from a grungy little village known as Little Whinging to the centre of London, where he easily slipped through the crowds and passed straight through the barrier onto Platform Nine-and-Three-Quarters.
'Pocket universes hiding in plain sight,' mused Stephen as he gazed upon the Hogwarts Express. 'Okay, so maybe they're not completely useless and without the potential to make themselves better. At least it helps keep those with real power from those who go about day-to-day deluding themselves into thinking they have power.'
Ignoring the sea of whispers, excitable conversations and last-minute panic attacks from the ill-prepared, Stephen made his way onto the train where, within a matter of seconds, he'd found an empty compartment, sat down in it and, crossing his legs and steepling his fingers, he assumed a calm, casual look that allowed him to do what he'd been doing best for nigh-on ten years.
Brood.
WIHP
Obviously, from what he had heard on the magical grapevine, his new life would be the central focus for many weaklings, narrow-minded nobodies and, more than likely – given what he'd found in London several weeks ago – possibly even the odd magpie-minded idealist who would look at him and think of him as nothing, but a naïve, pig-ignorant first-year.
'Hmm,' thought Stephen, his lips twitching amusingly as he considered one such fool. 'I wonder if that idealism is why the old buzzard with the lack of subtlety left me on that doorstep ten years ago? After all, according to my dearly-departed parents' wishes, the family I have lived with, those lovely Dursley people, were never even supposed to be my caregivers in the first place.'
Still, as he reasoned to himself, had they not been his guardians, he wouldn't have found three lovely new slaves to screw around with.
Even now, Stephen could hear the old fool's words from that fated night;
"They are the only family he has…he's far better off growing up away from all of that…until he is ready…"
'Oh, I'm definitely ready, old man…but are you?'
A low, sinister chuckle escaped Stephen as he assumed his position and waited patiently for the start of what he could already tell would be a dull, monotonous and definitely unproductive train ride straight to Hogwarts.
Oh well.
As another wise man once said.
Let the games begin…
WIHP
At the same time, while Stephen was content waiting for the start of his journey, in the office of the aforementioned old fool, the man himself felt a very cold chill run down his spine, which left him feeling like he was missing the bleeding obvious – and not for the first time – as he made final plans to set wheels in motion and lead his quarry towards the destiny that he had set out for them.
Namely, the one that ended in their death for the Greater Good.
But that was impossible.
He was Albus Dumbledore.
He missed nothing!
Oh, what fool that mortal be…
So, a short aftermath chapter that leads us to the main event, but now that Strange Supreme is on his way to the greatest school in the world, he asks a good question: are they ready for him? (I very much doubt it)
Also, with a real arsenal under his belt, and no so-called heroes with skill enough to stop him, how long might it take Strange to rule and claim the power he so desires? 7 Days? 7 Weeks? 7 Months? 7 Years?
Keep Reading to Find Out
Next Chapter: Strange leaves a lasting impact on a certain overcompensating nightmare, leading them down a path that will make things very interesting, and funny, for him;
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